#otp: under my skin
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
isagrimorie · 2 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Agatha All Along 1x04 - Agatha storming off in a huff
323 notes · View notes
hollygl125 · 10 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
“If I be waspish, best beware my sting.”
55 notes · View notes
herebecritters · 2 years ago
Text
Tumblr media
Happy pride, here’s a reminder that non-binary Flaky is incredibly important to me
212 notes · View notes
dramatictrajectory · 4 days ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
I got you and you got me.
8 notes · View notes
poetfades2black · 1 year ago
Text
Tumblr media
16 notes · View notes
wistfulwatcher · 2 years ago
Note
if you write any yellowjackets (literally about anyone) I'll give you my firstborn . ❤️
I'm assuming you mean fic? if so, and I cannot believe I'm saying this after a seven year dry spell, but:
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Misty/Nat hit me hard. I'm about two thirds of the way done, and I'm not letting myself watch today's ep until it's finished!
Thank you for the interest/compliment! I hope I don't disappoint ❤️
16 notes · View notes
khozmoh1 · 2 years ago
Text
new tag dump .
.     otp .     ›     all  roads  lead  to  you  ─  cassia  &  cosmo .
.     otp .     ›     take  my  hand  &  come  back  to  the  land  ─  allie  &  cosmo .
.     otp .     ›     eyes  are  the  windows to the soul  ─  mo  &  cosmo .
.     otp .     ›     i've  got  you  under  my  skin  ─  brett  &  cosmo .
3 notes · View notes
emotionoitme · 1 month ago
Text
i didn’t know
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
i didn't know - skinshape
final part of don’t call my name
warnings: some fighting at the beginning, but it’s mostly just one big love and fuckfest, mommy issues, slight mention of disordered eating, carmy is a PERV!! unprotected sex throughout but what else did you expect, shower sex (water off for SAFETY), teasing, play fighting (like shoving), brat/brat tamer themes, f receiving oral, fingering, major voyeurism (while otp with richie because i have a crush on him), spanking (and mention of skin being red), slight dacryphilia, sexy pictures, face fucking (m receiving oral), he spits in her mouth, kind of rough handling (thank u dom carmy), but it’s sweet and sappy too, breeding kink oop, bittersweet ending, pls let me know if i missed any warnings my brain is fried from looking at this for so long.
wc: 21k - but tumblr has a 1k "block limit" so this chapter is broken into two posts
a/n: sorry that took me so long i took a grippy sock vacation lol. wow i am so excited for all of you to read this. and the only way i can apologize is with 21k words of the nastiest smut i’ve ever written. LET THERE BE LIGHT!!! (part two of this chapter will be linked at the bottom! no more waiting i promise!!)
playlist
knock knock 
he calls her name. 
she rolls her eyes, brushing out the tangles in her hair. “i need to talk to you.” his voice comes sternly.
she cracks the door, continuing to detangle. the plan was to ignore him, yet she can’t help but seethe at the fact that she had to deal with claire again.
“go talk to your girlfriend” her retort comes sharply.
“can you not start this shit?” his face scrunches.
“i’m not starting anything,” she defends, “you’re the one who keeps inviting that girl over here.” 
“she forgot her scarf,” he states, “she just came to pick it up. that’s it.”
the girl scoffs. 
“i’m sure she wanted a lot more than her scarf from you, carm.” 
“you-,” he rubs his forehead, sighing, “i told her that we’re together, okay?” his eyebrow twitches from the argument.
“you only told her that because she saw me in your shirt,” the girl argues stubbornly, “if i didn’t walk behind you, you wouldn’t have said anything.” she turns the shower on.
“yes i would have,” he contests, “and even if she didn’t see you, i’ve got these fuckin’ things all over my neck,” pointing to the dark purple hickeys that lay on his skin, “thanks for those, by the way. gotta go into work tomorrow like this.” 
she bites her lip to hide a smirk. 
he catches it and raises his eyebrows in response. 
“payback.”
“what?” he stutters, shaking his head. 
“those are nothing compared to what you gave me.”  
he scoffs and crosses his arms. tries to push away how roused he becomes when they bicker like this. 
“i didn’t hear any complaints while i was giving you them,” he counters. 
she rolls her eyes.
“can you get out? i need to shower.” 
“m’not done talking to you,” his eyes lock on her face. 
she puts her hand on her hip and scoffs, staring at him for a moment, studying his features. cursing how her body tingled from the argument. deliberating. 
“fine,” she concedes, threading her fingers under the hem of the borrowed shirt, lifting it up over her head to reveal her nudity. if he won’t leave, she’ll just shower anyways. 
carmen fights a groan at the sight, instead forcefully exhaling through his nose. 
she was right, the marks on his neck were nothing compared to the bruises littering her skin, trailing from her neck all the way down to her chest, ranging from red to purple to brown.
the girl turns to open the glass door of the shower, stepping in, watching as the man shamelessly admires her figure. she goes about her business as if he’s not there, submerging her head under the stream of water, carding her fingers through her hair to scrub her scalp. 
he’s not done talking to her, yet he can’t seem to remember what he even wanted to say, transfixed by her nude, wet body just feet away. she begins to hum a tune and lather up her hair with shampoo. 
carmen approaches the glass. 
“hey,” he tries with a knock, eyebrow twitching. something else twitching, too. 
she glances at him, suds dripping down the side of her face, sliding down her breasts. she smirks knowingly at the sight of his flustered face, pushing her chest out slightly before drenching her face underneath the water again. 
he knocks on the glass door again, jaw tightly clenched. she rubs the water out of her eye and turns to him, cracking the door of the shower open. 
“hm?” she questions, gazing up at him. 
“we gonna finish talking?” he asks. he looks angry, but she knows better. the way his chest puffs out. the way his jaw clenches in that certain way. he looks hungry, and she’s tempted to keep pushing.
“i can’t. i’m in the shower,” she bites down on her lip to refrain from smirking. 
“why-” a sigh, running his fingers through his hair, “why you being such a brat today, huh?” he strains, giving great effort to keep his gaze from trailing down. 
“because i want you to myself,” she bites, “i’m tired of sharing with claire.”
“will you knock that shit off? y’not sharing me with anyone.” 
“uh, i beg to differ,” her eyebrows scrunch, “you’ve been fucking around with her since i moved in.” 
“fucking around?” he scoffs, “she was getting her scarf.”
“there was the other time, too, carm,” she reminds him. 
“that’s because-” he lets out a sigh of exasperation, hand carding through his hair. “listen. she’s the last person i wanna be with. we just…weren't good together.”
“why not?” she presses 
“there just wasn’t…i dunno, sparks? it was like dating a friend.” 
“okay.” she’s still mad, but she likes the words that come from his mouth. because if she has one thing with carmen, it’s definitely sparks. 
“yeah?” he tries, leaning to see her face, “you know i’m yours, right?” 
“yeah. whatever.” she doesn’t want to concede, too fired up about claire coming back over. “you should’ve told me.”
“i knew it’d make you mad,” he defends. 
“not as mad as it makes me thinking that you invited her,” she scoffs, “fucking hate seeing that girl bat her eyelashes at you.” she lathers shampoo between her hands and begins to wash her hair. 
“yeah?” he raises his eyebrows, “feeling jealous?” 
“shut up.” she can sense the stupid smirk on his face. 
carmy’s concentration breaks, and his gaze flits down to her sudsy chest. fuck. he clears his throat before speaking. 
“didn’t know girls like you could get jealous.”
“girls like m-what? what is that supposed to mean?” she cracks an eye open. 
“means you’re too fuckin’ pretty to worry about that shit. so just lose the attitude.”
his answer catches her off guard. the pulsing between her legs catches her off guard too. so she just turns away from him, scrubbing her scalp with her soapy fingers and shutting her eyes tightly. 
he chides her name and pushes the glass door open further. 
she ignores him, soaking her hair under the stream of water, muffling his voice. her eyebrow twitches. 
carmy steps partially in and turns off the water, getting his shirt wet in the process. the girl’s eyes shoot open and she whips around to face him.
“what the fuck, carmy?!” 
“i need you to fuckin’ hear me.” his comes louder than he anticipated. “i don’t. want. claire.” 
she doesn’t even care anymore. his lips look so inviting, she thinks. his white shirt clings to his chest in the spot that got wet. 
she just looks at him for a moment. studies his frenetic expression. looks at his lips again. 
“are you gonna keep fucking fighting with me or are you gonna take that wet shirt off?” 
it takes him a half second of firm deliberation before he’s yanking his shirt over his head and pushing his sweatpants off. she grins as he roughly grabs her face and slams his lips against hers. 
he kisses her with a hungry frenzy, like he has something to prove.  
and they apologize to each other with their bodies yet again, as carmen lifts her against the cold tile and fucks her, coaxing and kissing and thrusting an orgasm out of her. 
he fucks her until it feels like all the hurting is gone. until she gets lovey and desperate for him. until he gets so worked up he groans promises about finding her in california and giving her a ring. 
by the time they finish, the water is cold and the girl begins to shiver. so the two quickly finish washing up and carmy wraps her in a towel. 
he retrieves one of his sweatshirts for her to wear, smoothing his hands over her arms to help warm her up. 
without many words exchanged, they decide to cuddle up on the couch and watch a movie together. she lays her head on his lap and he cards his fingers through her hair absentmindedly. exchanging tenderness to help mend the argument. forgetting feelings of jealousy and shortcoming and guilt. 
they cozy up in carmen’s bed that night, taking a moment before falling asleep to just lay staring at each other. joking softly, touching each other sweetly.
he asks her about california, and watches with fascination as she lights up telling him about the beach she grew up next to. tells him about how when things would get bad at home she would sneak out her window and spend hours swimming in the salty water. letting the waves lap at her skin. letting the sun kiss her better. how it seems so dangerous looking back at it, but as kid nothing ever seemed that dangerous. it felt like nothing could hurt you. 
carmy enthusiastically agrees with her. follows her memory with his own anecdote of when donna took him, mikey, and nat to lake michigan and little carmy got separated from everyone. how he would have otherwise panicked and ran around and made the situation worse, but it was such a beautiful evening. so he decided to just sit on a rock and watch the waves roll in. 
a big smile grows on the girl's face as he recounts the moment when his mom found him. how she threw her arms around him and cried. how he was too young to understand why she was so scared when it was such a lovely evening. 
she wraps her arms around his shoulders and their chests press flush together. she kisses his neck, and they stay quiet for a moment. 
“i wish i didn’t have to go back,” she whispers her admission.
“me too.” he keeps playing with her hair.
it’s quiet for a moment. there’s a heaviness that fills the room. 
“how long you gonna have to end up staying?” carmy asks softly, leaning away from her to study her eyes. her face. trying to memorize every detail. he doesn’t miss the way her expression falters at his question. 
the girl doesn’t answer, and her eyes become glossy. 
“shit,” he breathes. her eyes dart to his. “you’re not coming back, are you?” 
“my whole family is there,” she whispers, “my friends. there’s nothing for me here.” 
“really?” he scoffs, “nothing at all?” 
“don’t start, carm.”
“y’know i fuckin’ love you,” he harshly whispers. she flinches slightly at the word. it feels so much heavier without the haze of lust. 
“all we ever do is fuck and fight.” 
“that’s not true,” he argues. 
“it is.” 
the man lets out a sigh of frustration, studying her eyes. her face. her lips. 
“it just…it feels right with you,” his tone softens. 
she doesn’t say anything for a moment, and fantasizes about leaving everything behind and building something in chicago, no matter how much she had grown to hate the weather. she fantasizes about the man in front of her. how she wants to build a life with him. how makes her feel like no other man ever has.
it’s hard to verbalize as her mind racks back and forth, so instead she just leans forward and kisses him softly, fingers threading through the hair at the nape of his neck. 
carmy reciprocates hesitantly, mind racing with the things he wants to tell her. how he doesn’t care about the distance. how he’ll call her every night. how he’ll keep her room vacant incase she wants to come back. he softly groans into the kiss when she slips her tongue into his mouth, feeling her press her chest flush against his. it feels so good, but he knows it’s wrong to keep pushing the hard conversations away with more sex. 
the girl finds his hand and softly guides it under the hem of her shirt. carmen lets her, fingertips finding the softness of her skin. but when she tries to pull his hand up to her breast, he stops the attempt, fingers firmly pressing against her ribs. 
the girl whines against his lips, moving closer. 
carmy indulges in the taste of her for only a moment more before pulling back and saying her name. she ignores him, chasing his lips, hand moving to grasp his strong bicep. 
“hey,” he turns his head and her kisses land messily along his jaw, “c’mon.” 
she ignores him, knowing he’ll want to keep talking about california, pressing herself closer, wanting to indulge in the feeling of him without thinking about the end. 
he calls her name again, voice coming out strained. she can feel his erection pressing against her, and keeps peppering kisses along his jaw and face. 
“just make me feel good,” she begs against his skin, “please.”
carmen feels himself throb against her, wanting nothing more than to give in. knowing it won’t fix anything. knowing it’ll only complicate things more. 
“thought you said all we do is fuck and fight?” his fingers grip into her, jaw tightening, feeling his resolve begin to crumble beneath her lips. 
“mhm,” she breathes into his skin, “so fuck me again,” trailing her hand down his bare abdomen.
he grips her wrist before she can move any further down. her eyes come up to meet his, taking in the stern look on his face. 
“i know you wanna,” she breathes, a small smile tugging at the edge of her lips, “can feel you throbbing against me.” 
carmen harshly exhales, trying to keep his mind focused. she’s completely right, he thinks, he’s stiff as wood. but he has to stay strong, prove to himself he has control around her.  
“stop fucking around. i wanna talk to you.” his voice comes more sharply than he means. 
the girl stiffens at his tone, pulling away to sit up and retreat. he doesn’t release her wrist. 
“let me go,” she tells him. 
“no. we’re gonna fuckin’ finish this,” his eyebrows furrow, “i didn’t even know you weren’t coming back until now.”
“i don’t wanna talk about it anymore.” her throat feels tight. 
“no? just want me to make you feel better? that all this is to you?” he can’t help the harshness of his tone. 
“carm, i-”
“y’know i’ve never fuckin’ felt this way about anyone? never said ‘i love you’ to anyone but you?” his nose scrunches, eyes appearing glossy. 
“we’ve only known each other for a few weeks.” her tone comes hushed as her chest painfully tightens. 
“yeah, well, i know you enough to know that this is real. that i don’t even-” a sigh, “ i don’t want anybody else but you.” 
“everything you’re saying is just gonna make it harder when i leave.” her voice breaks. 
his furrowed brows soften at the sound, releasing her wrist. she says seated on the bed, trying to take deep breaths and stave off the hot tears that threaten to form. 
“fuck, i-” he pauses, harshly rubs his hand over his face, taking a moment before meeting her eyes again and saying her name. “i like you. a lot.” 
“i know. i like you too, carm.” she rubs the tears away harshly.
“so why can’t we just…enjoy it? while you’re still here? go all out on this?” 
she stares at him blankly for a second as a cue to elaborate. 
the man exhales and shakes his head, trying to piece together what to say. he can’t seem to find the words. she thankfully cuts in. 
“go all out on this?” she asks.
he nods. 
“like, you wanna be my fuckin’…. boyfriend?” 
carmen can’t help the small smile that flashes across his face at the title. he tries to turn his head to hide it but she catches it, playfully shoving his arm. his smile turns to a chuckle. 
“shut up,” she grins, wiping the last stray tear away, “you so wanna be my boyfriend.”
he bring his arms to rest behind his head, staring up at the girl with a lazy smile. he studies her smile. her pretty face. they way in which she’s leaned in closer. 
“fuck yeah, i do. you kidding me?” 
her eyebrows raise at how assertively he says it. her head falls back, and she begins to laugh. partially out of joy and partially out of disbelief. the sound is hearty and sweet, and carmy finds himself wishing he’d make her laugh more. 
the girl leans over him, smile still gracing her face, and she plants a tender kiss against his lips. 
carmen gazes dreamily at her as she sits back up and tucks her hair behind her ears. her face is flushed, and she’s wearing an expression he can’t quite read. they keep staring at each other silently. 
“this is gonna be a bad idea, huh?” she asks after a moment. 
“why?” 
“why wouldn’t it be?” her eyes take in his handsome face. she thinks about how hard it’s gonna be to leave. 
“well…i like you,” he clears his throat, “a lot. actually i’m kind of fuckin’ crazy about you.” 
her gaze softens at this. he continues. 
“and i’m very attracted to you. and we, uh… we have great sex…”
“yeah, we do,” she concedes, “these are all good points.”
“so then, you’re my girlfriend.” 
“carmy…” she sighs, pausing. thinking of what to say. “i don’t like it here. i’ve felt homesick for the past year. i’m really not coming back.” her voice is quiet.
“yeah.” he nods, clearing his throat, “i know you’re not.” he knows, but it’s still hard to be reminded of. 
“so, you’re gonna be okay with that?” 
“i mean…i’m not okay with it, but i’ll deal with it if it means we get to spend these next few weeks together.”
she thinks for a moment, studying his genuine expression.
“okay…but if we do this, we have to promise each other that we’re not gonna get too attached. i really don’t want this to be messy. i like you too much.”
“it won’t be,” he assures, although it feels more like a prayer than a fact. 
“okay,” she whispers, “then you’re my boyfriend i guess.”
his eyes light up a bit at this, and a boyish grin breaks his face.  
“nice.” 
“you’re stupid.” she laughs at his response, lightly shoving his chest again. 
he reaches up and shoves her shoulder back playfully. 
“you are.” 
she scoffs and goes to shove him again, harder this time. he catches her wrist and pulls her forward so she can’t. the girl lets out a yelp of surprise, splaying out over him, face inches from his. 
the simple display of dominance makes her feel dizzy, placing her free hand on his firm chest to center herself. 
“why you like fighting so much, hm?” he asks, his breath ghosting over her lips, “you’re always testing.” 
she tries to pull her wrist away, but his grip is firm. 
“cause you’re…sexy when you’re mad,” she admits, eyes drooping to his lips. 
“i’m sexy when i’m mad?” he has a slight mocking tone. 
“mhm.” she can’t keep her eyes off his lips. “if i worked at your restaurant, i’d probably mess shit up on purpose just so you’d yell at me.”
“jesus,” he lets out a laugh, rubbing his free hand over his face, “what, you like when i get a little rough you?”
“n-no,” she blurts out. the way she averts her eyes immediately reveals her lie.
“yeah, i think you do,” he grins. 
she goes to defend herself again, but shuts her mouth when she can’t think of anything to say. it is kind of true, anyways.
“shut up,” she pushes his face away from her gently, “or else i’ll break up with you.”
this makes him fully laugh. it’s a really nice sound. she watches the way his face crinkles with the big smile. when his laugh fades, he reaches for her chin and pulls her into a gentle kiss. she sighs into the feeling, settling her body closer to his. 
“m’tired,” she mutters into his lips, “you exhaust me.”
carmy rolls his eyes at this. “c’mere.” he says, pulling the sheets back for her. 
the girl slips in next to him and presses her back against his chest, resting her head on his bicep. 
carmy reaches behind him to turn off the lamp, then wraps his arm securely around her. he plants a kiss on her neck and nuzzles his nose into her hair. 
boyfriend. 
he could get used to the title. 
-
carmen gets home late from work on a cold night, late into november, crashing down onto the couch and basking in the silence of the apartment. 
it was a long day in the kitchen, followed by meeting with a contracting crew to update some structural components after hours. 
he had finally taken off after being there for almost 12 hours straight, begrudgingly leaving the renovations to be overseen by richie after having snapped at the crew for the third time. 
he hears soft footsteps padding down the hall, and opens his eyes to see his girlfriend. his sweet, perfect, sexy fucking girlfriend. and it’s like a breath of fresh air, especially after not having seen her the past few days. and she’s wearing a tiny pair of shorts with a crop top that barely covers the curve of her breasts. 
it’s like a reward, he thinks to himself, for all the bullshit he put up with today at the restaurant. 
“welcome home,” she greets, walking past the couch and into the kitchen. 
“hey,” he returns, eyes following her, gaze raking down her backside as she gets herself a glass of water. 
“how was work?” she’s oblivious to the way he’s hungrily looking at her, oblivious to how pent up he feels. 
“long,” he responds, eyes trailing up the length of her legs. 
she lets out a hum of acknowledgement, turning to face him and taking a long sip of water. she catches him watching her intently, his arm stretched out over the back of the couch and neck craned. 
“enjoying the view?” comes her tease.
“y’look good,” he defends. 
“yeah?” 
“mhm.” 
the girl sets her glass down and begins to saunter to the couch. carmen’s eyes follow her closely. 
“how good?” she stops in front of him. 
“good enough to eat.” a small smile twitches the edge of his lip. 
“yeah? wanna taste?” her hands come to her hips, and she pushes her chest out slightly. 
fuck. he shamelessly looks her up and down. this was getting to be dangerous territory. 
“do you wanna go to out to dinner this week?” he changes course, watching her brain stutter for a second. 
“wh-dinner?” 
he nods, resting his head against his hand. she pauses for a moment, studying his face. 
“where?” 
“wherever you want.”
“like…a date?” 
“mhm,” a smirk tugs at the edge of his lips, “cause you’re, uh…my girlfriend now.” 
a grin breaks her face. she thinks for a moment. 
“can we go to your restaurant?” 
“uh…yeah, i guess we can.”
“you guess?” she asks. 
“yeah, we can go. but you’re probably gonna get a lot of, uh…attention.” he admits hesitantly. 
“from who? your staff?” 
he nods. they would probably lose their shit seeing him bring in a girl to eat dinner with. not to mention a girl that looks like her. 
“okay,” she nods, “i’ll dress cute. you can help me pick.”
“yeah?” he likes the sound of that. 
“mhm. whatever you want.” 
carmen rubs his hand over his face then locks his eyes on her again. this girl is going to be the death of him. 
“c’mere,” he beckons.
the girl gently steps forward, standing in between his spread legs. his hand comes to the back of her thigh as he sits forward, gazing up at her with those big blue eyes. he looks so handsome, and she can’t help but place her hands on his face and lean in to kiss him. 
it’s gentle and sweet, and it only makes him want more, tightening his grip on her leg as she pulls away. 
“you taste minty,” she says softly, still leaning over him, stroking her thumb across his face. 
“you sure?” he’s fixated on her lips, “might wanna check again.” he definitely is minty from the nicorette gum he’d been chewing. but it’s worth a shot.
this makes her smile. and she does check again. decides it’s spearmint she tastes. 
before she can pull back, carmy pulls her forward to straddle him. she makes a sound of surprise, but leans into it, wrapping her arms around his neck and continuing to kiss him.
“missed you today,” he slips in between kisses.
“liar,” she smiles against his lips. 
his hands come to her hips, pulling her against him. 
“nah, it’s true,” another kiss, “couldn’t stop fuckin’ thinking about you.” 
“prove it.” she grinds against his bulge, making him tighten his grip. 
“lay down,” he growls, pulling away. there’s a dark gleam in his eyes. 
“or else what?” she challenges 
he grabs both sides of her thighs and stands up with her still straddling his waist, turning and dropping her back onto the couch. 
okay, he’s not in the mood for arguing anymore. good to know. 
carmen cages her with his arms and kisses her deeply before trailing his lips down her jaw, neck, collarbones, only being stopped by the neckline of her shirt. he glances up at her, and she eagerly takes it off. he smiles at the silent act of obedience and continues kissing down her body, barely giving any attention to her breasts before his lips come to her stomach. the girl huffs at this, and he pretends to not notice. 
“what are you doing?” she strains, watching as his lips come to rest just above the waistband of her shorts. 
“m’getting my taste,” he replies casually 
“carmy,” she chides, face becoming red and hot. 
“what?” his fingers hook her waistband, “you embarrassed or something?” another kiss on her hipbone. 
she is, inexplicably. and vulnerable and exposed and horny all at the same time. she hides her face in her arms instead of responding, feeling him slide the shorts down her legs, left clad only in a thin pair of panties. 
carmy hooks his arms around her legs and pulls her closer to his mouth, pressing slow, firm kisses to her covered mound.
the girl lets out a labored breath at the heat of his lips against her clit as he begins to place wet, open mouthed kisses on her covered pussy. her cotton underwear becomes damp with his tongue, and she arches into the feeling with a sharp breath in. 
carmy nuzzles the fabric and deeply inhales, letting out a low groan.
“ah- don’t do that!” the girl tries to clamp her legs shut out of embarrassment, but he holds them firmly in place and presses his face closer to her core, continuing to kiss and suck her through the fabric. 
“you smell good,” carmy defends. “and these are cute,” he snaps the band of her panties. 
she can hardly even process the statement before he starts sliding them down her thighs, bunching up the fabric and putting it in his pocket. 
“hey, you can’t have those,” she strains. 
there’s a delay in carmen’s response—too busy studying her soft pussy up close, lips gleaming with wetness, bundle of nerves twitching under his gaze. 
“i’ll, uh…make it up to you,” his eyes stay fixed on the glorious sight upon him. 
he leans in, flattens his tongue against her clit, and begins to gently lick. 
the girl gasps, and her hands fly down to grab his hair as she releases a whine of pleasure. 
the tantalizing licks to her clit are gentle. almost not enough. she tugs on his hair and tries to scoot forward, so he eases his tongue back. 
when his eyes flicker to her face. her skin is flushed, lip clamped between her teeth, and she’s looking at him hungrily. 
“y’so pretty,” he presses a kiss to her clit, “taste so fuckin’ good.” 
her head falls back and she breathes out sharply. it’s too much to keep making eye contact with him. the slow, teasing licks are the only thing she can concentrate on. 
“you gonna say thank you?” it’s more of a demand than a question, as he glides his finger over her entrance, collecting her syrupy wetness. 
“n-no,” she struggles, face hot and red. 
thank you, really? how embarrassing. 
his tongue flicks over her clit repeatedly, his finger dips inside of her opening ever so slightly. 
“no?” his lips close around her clit and he sucks, cherishing the sound of the first moan she allows to slip out. 
“mmm,” she whines in response, beginning to pant at the feeling of his mouth. 
“c’mon, be a good girl for me?” unlikely, but he asks anyways
“i am,” she argues, pulling his head towards her needy heat. he scoffs at this and continues to swirl his tongue around her clit.
“then say thank you.”
“carm, i’m not saying-ah thank you!” she cuts herself off with a moan as he sinks his finger inside of her. “y’welcome” he replies lowly, a smirk fighting to break his face. 
“shut up. i didn’t-mmh! …mean it like that.”
she sits up onto her forearms, watching him curl his digit upwards inside of her, trying to keep it together. 
“you’re so fuckin’ cute.” he growls, then dives forward to taste her again. his fingers curl rhythmically, tongue lightly swirling her sensitive clit, giving her barely enough stimulation to get by. 
“more,” she whines, bucking her hips up slightly. he gives her a disapproving glance, so she adds a “please”. 
“yeah?” he kisses her clit. 
she frantically nods her head, trying to scoot closer to the man, trying to buck her hips against his hand. 
carmen speeds up the pace of his fingers, sucking her clit into his mouth, free hand gripping onto her thigh. 
“yeah,” she moans, “fuck, you’re so good at that.”
he preens at the praise and swirls her clit with his tongue, beginning to lap at her pussy. when he adds a second finger she cries out his name.
the view above him in combination with how sweet she sounds leaves his cock pulsing beneath his denim. he reaches down with his free hand, undoing his belt buckle and unzipping his pants. he just needs a little something to keep him from fucking her into the couch. 
as he goes to wrap his fingers around his cock, he’s interrupted by the harsh buzz of his phone on the table.
the girl startles at this, and both of their eyes dart to the contact tag. 
fucking richie. 
he doesn’t stop the movement of his fingers, and leans back in to taste her again, ignoring the loud vibrations. he begins to softly stroke himself, groaning into her pussy. 
“do you need to-ah… to get that?
“no,” he replies sharply, “y’taste too fuckin’ good to stop.”
the girl whimpers at the sound of his voice. at how low and raspy and hungry it sounds. 
“let me taste,” her plead comes breathily. 
carmen nearly groans at her request, more than willing to happily oblige. he licks a long stripe up her pussy, collecting her slick on his tongue, then leans over for a kiss. the girl eagerly (and messily) accepts his lips, swirling her tongue around his own, tasting her juices. she tasted herself before off his fingers, but it’s so much better off his tongue. she moans appreciatively and holds the sides of his face, pulling him in for deeper, sloppier, wetter kisses. the vibration of the phone stops, and his fingers continue their pace, curling into her heat, beginning to produce a squelching sound from the slick of her arousal. 
“yes!” she cries into his lips, eyes nearly rolling back into her head. 
“so perfect, y’know that?” he punctuates his words with the thrust of his fingers, gently biting at the girl’s bottom lip. 
she’s only able to muster a moan in response, trailing her hand down her stomach to circle her neglected clit, babbling out a string of “yes yes yes yes.”
the phone vibrates harshly atop the edge of the table again, falling to the floor with a loud thud. 
“fuck!” carmen exclaims, ripping his hand out of his pants. he stops curling his fingers inside of her and leans down to angrily grab his phone. the girl lets out a cry of protest. 
“carmy m’so close, please,” she begs pathetically. grabbing at his arm. 
“be quiet,” he hushes her, scooting back down to his previous position between her legs, “can y’do that for me?” 
she nods eagerly, biting down on her lip. 
carmen answers the call with a harsh “what?” and rolls his eyes at the voice that blares through the other line. 
his fingers remain engulfed in her heat, and he begins to slowly curl them again. the girl lets out a sharp breath and he shoots her a warning look, mouthing a stern “quiet.”
he puts the call on speakerphone, then places it on her stomach, leaning down to softly lick her clit. the girls eyes widen in surprise. a loud voice begins to come through the phone. 
“-that he was going to do it anyways, but i said ‘no way, carmy would have a fuckin’ bitch fit if we didn’t ask!’ so don’t answer the phone all fuckin’ mad, it’s not my fault,” the voice at the other line loudly rambles. carmy lifts his mouth from her pussy to respond
“jesus, richie, just look at the fucking floor plan.” 
“you don’t think we tried that? the vents aren’t lining up with the floor pla- what is that sound?” 
carmy curls his fingers a bit faster, pressing his tongue flat against her clit instead of answering. the girl gasps, convinced her lip is going to start bleeding from how hard she’s biting down on it. 
his eyes flicker up to her, and she mouths a “what the fuck?” 
like an asshole, he just grins in response. 
“hello?? earth to asshole,” richie’s voice cuts in loudly, “what the fuck are you doing over there?” 
carmen pulls away from her pussy with wet lips. he looks pretty, she thinks, like he has lipgloss on or something. 
“m’eating dessert,” he responds truthfully. the girl’s faces grows incredibly hot. 
“you wh- dessert? what is it, is it good?”
“fuck, richie, you-” he sighs, “forget about the vents,” he begins to rub gentle circles around her clit, “just have them do the pipes and go home. and stop fucking calling me.” 
“you think i wanted to call you, you fuckin’ baby? it’s gonna be an extra $200 for them to come back tomorrow and…” he continues to ramble on. meanwhile the girl holds onto carmy’s shoulder, digging her nails in, trying to anchor herself. the feeling of his fingers plunging into her is incredible, and there’s an unexpected rush at the risk of being listened to. of being caught.
carmen laps at her pussy, then closes his lips around her clit and sucks gently. he keeps doing this rhythmically, curling his fingers up into her core, continually switching between gentle licks and slurping and sucking. it’s a particularly deep thrust of his fingers that make her release her lip from her teeth and cry out loudly.
“ah-!” 
carmy’s eyes dart upwards at the moan, watching as she claps a hand over her mouth in shock. 
“what the fuck was that?” richie’s voice sounds after a pause. 
carmen, without a care that they could be caught, continues eating the girl out, giving her a look that says “you are so getting it.”
“hello?? are you watching porn or something, you fuckin’ weirdo?”
he rolls his eyes at the accustation, why would he be watching porn while on the phone? 
“no, i’m not watching fucking porn, richie. finish the vents tomorrow, i’m not arguing about this anymore. goodnight.” he grows increasingly impatient, and it reflects in the quickened pace of his fingers. 
“wait, wait, one more thing-”
“fuck, what?!” carmen snaps. 
the girl lets out a sound of exasperation, coming up on a perpetual orgasm then being denied every time he removes his mouth. the pressure is growing to be unbearable, and she softly whines a “carmyy.”
“i know, baby, i got you,” he whispers back, barely loud enough for her to hear. he brings his mouth to suck on her clit again while richie continues yapping about the fucking vents. fuck the vents. 
carmy just watches the girl’s face, tuning out the voice from the phone. he studies how flushed she is—from her cheeks all the way down to her chest. how she seems like she’s barely holding on. how her legs begin to tremble. how she tries desperately to keep from making noise, pressing her lips together firmly, eyes screwed shut, breathing ragged. 
the wet, squelching sound from her pussy begins to sound again, juices flooding down his fingers, soaking his hand. it feels unbelievable and she begins to lose patience. 
“carm, hang up,” she cries, much louder than she means to. richie’s voice stops in its tracks. 
“are you f-what the hell are you doing?” he asks, “who is that?”  
“none of your fuckin’ buisness,” carmy snaps, “the central vent is the one that’s the most fucked up, so get it sealed and go the fuck home. and don’t fucking call me again.” 
“yeah, yeah, whatever. you have fun over there, assh-” carmy hangs up the phone and tosses it onto the floor. 
“what the fuck, carm?” she asks exasperatedly, face fully flushed. 
“you’re not very good at staying quiet.” 
“you were- ah!” she loses her sentence as he dips back down to swirl her clit with his tongue. 
“i was what?” he mutters into her wetness, slipping his free hand back into his pants. 
“you were doing that!” she cries, tangling her fingers in his curls.
“it feel good?” he laps at her cunt, rhythmically curling his fingers. 
“yeah,” she cries, “please don’t stop again. please.” 
a small smirk breaks on his face at how nicely she’s able to ask, even after being tormented with interruptions moments ago. he rewards her by continuing his steady pace, keeping everything constant, coaxing an orgasm out of her. 
he squeezes the head of his cock, stroking the length of it faster now. she tastes so good, and the sounds she’s making are so pretty, it’s easy to lose himself in the pleasure. 
she bucks her hips against his face, getting his nose wet. her grip on his hair tightens. her body feels hotter, hotter, hotter and-
“carm-!” she gasps, “fuck, baby, that’s so good. m’gonna cum. please keep doing that pleasepleasepleasebabyyesyesyes,” she babbles, grinding her hips against his face, practically riding his fingers which curl so deliciously inside of her. the man has to force himself to not stop and make a snarky comment about how cute she sounds when she’s all fucked out like this . 
with a final few curls of his fingers and another swirl of his tongue, she’s coming completely undone. her head falls back and she rides out the orgasm shakily. 
he bucks his hips into his hand with fervor, groaning into her pussy as he feels himself approaching an embarrassingly easy climax. 
she clenches around his fingers, and he wriggles them as deeply as he can, swirling her clit with his tongue. 
the girl lets out a cry, feeling herself be pushed far past her peak, hand flying down to grab his wrist. 
“ah-carm, s’too much.” 
“you can take it, yeah?” he growls, rutting into his hand. he’s so close. just needs to taste her for a little longer. there’s a hot pulse surging throughout his body. 
the girl’s breathing becomes loud, a rapid inhale exhale inhale exhale. 
at the labored sound, he takes some mercy on her and stops moving his fingers, focusing solely on lapping at her throbbing clit. his cock twitches in his hand, and with a few final frenzied pumps, he cums into his palm.
“fuck,” he groans, resting his head on her pelvis for a moment. the two of them bask in the post-orgasm high, catching their breaths. carmen’s jaw aches a bit. he plants one last kiss on her oversensitive clit, then pulls away, easing his fingers out slowly.
“kiss me,” she pleads breathily, feeling slightly dizzy from the orgasm. 
“yeah? wanna taste yourself again?” his voice is low, kind of raspy. 
she nods eagerly.
he leans over and, to her surprise, shoves his fingers in her mouth, swirling them around her tongue, making sure she gets every drop she left behind. the girl enthusiastically cleans his fingers, taking them deeply into her mouth. 
the moment he eases them out, he dives into her lips hungrily, shoving his tongue in her mouth, tasting the heavenly mix of her saliva and arousal. 
she grabs his face and licks her cum from the side of his lips, from his chin, gathering it before kissing him frantically again. 
“mm, thank you,” she mutters against his lips sweetly. 
“y’welcome.” he loves how she thanks him. 
the taste is intoxicating, and he’s tempted to lick her pussy again just so the both of them can continue to indulge. but there’s a sticky mess on his hand and the inside of his boxers, so he pulls away from her lips, and grabs a tissue from the box on the coffee table. 
the girl’s eyes widen in surprise as he eases his cum-covered hand out of his boxers.
“is that- did you..?”
he wipes the white substance off his hand, small small teasing the edge of his lips. 
“uh…yeah. that was, um… that was really hot,” he admits.  
“yeah, except the part where you put me on the phone with your employee.”
“nah…” he shakes his head, a smirk on his face, “i think you liked that.”
“wha-no i did not,” her eyes widen, “it was so embarrassing.” it was embarrassing, but it really turned her on—not that he needs to know that.  
“embarrassing?”
“yes, embarrassing! get that dumb grin off your face, it was!” 
this only makes him smile harder, beginning to laugh. 
“yeah? that why you soaked my fuckin’ fingers?” 
she sits up and reaches for her tank top, a bashful expression on her face. 
“no. that’s just because it felt good.” 
“you were squeezing me like crazy trying to stay quiet,” he continues to try and provoke her, liking how feisty she becomes. 
“give me my panties back.” the girl rolls her eyes and ignores his statement. 
“what panties?” he asks cluelessly. 
“carmy.”
“yeah, baby?” 
she scoffs and mutters a “whatever” before standing up and slipping on her shorts. pantiless. there’s a creeping blush on her face as she wonders what he even wants them for. 
“so, tomorrow?” he asks before she can walk away, “for our date?” 
she pauses, then nods. 
“but we’re not going to your restaurant.” 
“why not?” there’s a small smirk on his face. 
she gives him a look that says, because you just ate me out on the phone with the guy that would probably be serving us, dumbass, but stays quiet, beginning to walk to the stairs 
carmen lets out a chuckle, and stands to follow her after cleaning his hand off. he hooks the waistband of her shorts and pulls her back. hands coming to her hips to steady her, his chest flush against her back. 
“c’mon, don’t be like that,” he leans down to kiss her neck. she can feel his smirk against her skin, “you hungry? y’eat yet?” 
she shakes her head no, closing her eyes at the sensation of his kisses. 
“no you didn’t eat or no you’re not hungry?” he asks, nipping the skin below her earlobe. 
“both,” she exhales, leaning back against him, her hands coming overtop his. she suddenly notices how big they are splayed out over her hips.
“you haven’t eaten dinner yet?” he stops kissing her. 
“m’not hungry,” she breathes, “keep kissing me there.”
he removes his hands from her hips and steps back. she lets out a noise of disappointment and turns to face him with a pout. he doesn’t see this, though, already walking to the kitchen and turning on the light to make her something. 
“carmy,” she calls, following him, “it’s late. let’s just go to bed.”
he ignores her, opening their cabinets to retrieve a box of spaghetti. 
“hey,” she grabs his arm, leaning to meet his eyes, “come on. i wanna cuddle.” 
“we will. but i’m gonna make you dinner first.” his voice is firm. he pulls his arm away from her and reaches down to grab a pot. 
he’s so demanding. but the gesture makes her feel incredibly affectionate towards the man, so it’s hard to be mad at.
as he fills the pot with water, the girl snakes her arms around his waist and hugs him from behind, pressing herself flush against his back. 
“thank you,” she mumbles into his shirt, taking a deep breath of their shared laundry detergent. her hand sneaks under his shirt and she drags her fingers into the deep cut of his v line. 
carmen reaches his hand behind him, caressing her hip without saying anything in response. 
she pulls away after a moment and he puts the pot of water on to boil. 
“you eating enough?” 
his question catches her off guard. 
“i- what?” 
“you heard me.” he crosses his arms.
she stares at him for a moment, studying his tightly set jaw. the way it twitches a bit.
“yeah, i am.”  
“yeah?” he looks like he doesn’t believe her. 
and maybe she had been a bit forgetful lately, missing breakfast, oftentimes coming home too tired to make dinner and opting for a snack instead. she didn't think he had been so observant, though. 
“yes.” her tone is quiet. 
he just stares at the girl silently, striking blue eyes boring a hole into her. she crumbles under his gaze. 
“i’ve just been…stressed. i don’t know. haven’t had much of an appetite.”
“what are you stressed about?” 
“going back home i guess,” she admits quietly, shuffling on her feet. 
he doesn’t respond, giving her the opportunity to elaborate without pressure. 
“i just- it’s gonna be hard. y’know when i told you my mom and i have a complicated relationship?” 
he nods, and she continues. 
“yeah, that was like…understatement of the year.” 
he nods, a knowing look on his face. 
“yeah, no. i, uh…i know exactly what you mean.” he really does. 
“and um, she’s sick. like, not entirely there,” she points to her head, “so she gets really mean. but then she can also be the nicest, most motherly person. its just…really unpredictable.” 
it was almost uncanny, the way in which he pictures donna as she gives her description. 
“i, uh…yeah. i get it,” he clears his throat, “i’ve dealt with someone like that my whole life.” he intently locks eyes with her, wishing he could say more to alleviate her dread. 
“how did-how do you deal with it?” she asks quietly, after a moment. 
“i, uh…i don’t really?” he rubs his neck, letting out a sardonic chuckle, “i haven’t talked to her in…months probably.”
“really?” 
“yeah, i’ve, um…been kind of an asshole, actually. my sister is really the only one that deals with her.” 
“you’re not an asshole,” she locks eyes with him, “well, sometimes you are. but not cause of that. that’s more like a…i dunno, a defense response.”
he laughs at her bluntness. 
“so i am an asshole, just not for that?” 
“correct.”
“how am i an asshole?” 
“you’ve been trying to make me jealous since i got here.” 
“not trying. it actually worked very well.” he has a stupid smile on his face when he says that. 
“shut up!” she laughs, shoving her hands against his chest as hard as she can. he barely moves from it, grabbing both her wrists firmly with an amused look on his face. she struggles against his grip, trying to shake the feeling of arousal that comes with how easily he’s able to overpower her. 
“why’re you so fiesty, huh?” he grins, pulling her closer. 
“cause you’re a fucker, that’s why.” she tries again to pull her arms back, but to no avail. her face feels hot, and she becomes hyper aware of the fabric touching her skin, the hair on her neck, the tingle of the rough grip on her wrists. his face is much closer now, and she fights the urge to lean forward and indulge.
“yeah?” 
“mhm,” her response overlaps his. 
“what are you gonna do about it?” he mocks, “huh?”
her eyes flicker down his face. he has a stupid fucking smirk plastered on his lips. fuck, she wants to kiss him. 
an idea pops into her head. 
the girl leans forward, gently ghosting her lips over his own. her tongue darts out and she licks his bottom lip, then sucks it into her mouth and bites softly. then she gives him a soft and gentle barely there kiss. 
she feels his grasp on her wrist loosen, so she splays her hand over his chest. 
her lips hover over his for just a moment more, and then she shoves him. 
carmy stumbles back slightly, less prepared that time, hands coming behind him to steady himself on the counter. when he meets her eyes again he has a dark glint in his eyes. almost like anger, but hungrier.
the next thing she knows, he yanks her into his chest, grabs her hip and roughly bends her over the countertop. 
she just thinks to herself, finally. 
carmen tugs her hips back until her forearms fall to the counter and she arches her spine. until she’s flush with his pelvis and he’s pressing his achingly hard cock against her ass. 
“such a bratty fuckin’ girl,” his tone is rough, strained.  “you know that? fuckin’ had it with you.” 
“i’m n-” she cuts herself off with a gasp as he harshly tugs the waistband of her shorts up, wedging the fabric between her cheeks and giving himself a nice view of the supple skin.
“you’re what?” he smooths his hand over her ass, watching her arch into his touch. watching as she opens her mouth to say something, then close, staying silent and shuffling her hips against his groin. 
carmen lets out a groan—half frustration, half arousal, smoothing his hands over her hamstrings and firmly squeezing the soft flesh before trailing back up to her ass. 
“you doing this on purpose?” both hands grab her ass, kneading, pulling her closer against his hardness. 
no response. she can’t, not without moaning. 
“hmm?” he shoves his hips forward into her, “you trying to get a reaction outta me tonight? or are y’really just that fucking bratty?” the hand gripping her flesh squeezes harder. 
“i-mmh…that-…keep doing that.” she chooses to ignore his question. 
“answer me.”
still nothing. 
“you want me to spank you? cause that’s what’s gonna happen if you keep this shit up.”
his words make her stomach flip. of course she does. she hides her smile in her arms and stays quiet, pushing back into him. hoping he’ll stick to his words. 
carmen raises his hand, and cracks it down on her right cheek, grabbing the flesh immediately after to ease some of the sting. 
“ah-!” she grips the countertop, arching her spine. his hand leaves behind a hot, tingling sensation, flooding through her body like a wave. 
“y’okay?” he tries to sound caring but his tone comes out rough, heavy with arousal. 
“yeah.” better than okay. incredibly horny, actually.  “that hurt?” his hand smooths over the reddening skin. 
“no,” she shakes her head, pushing back against him again, “thought you were gonna spank me.”
she cranes her neck trying to get a look at the man. his pupils are blown, face is rosy, and when she meets his eyes there’s a dangerous glint to them. 
he wedges her shorts up higher, exposing more of her ass, then smacks her in the same spot without warning. harder this time. 
“fuck-!” she gasps sharply. it hurts, but in a way that has her pressing her thighs together desperately to try and get some relief. 
“can you take one more, pretty girl?” 
“yeah,” she whines enthusiastically, shuffling her hips back against his groin. 
“yeah? y’so tough, baby.” his voice has a slight mocking edge to it as he does everything in his power to not yank the shorts down her legs and fuck her into the counter. 
“just…shut up and do it.” she tries to mask her eagerness, but it doesn’t work very well. 
he scoffs, and rubs his large hand over her supple skin. when he feels her relax, he raises it and cracks down on her other cheek. 
she partially muffles the loud cry by biting down on her forearm, feeling a few tears begin to form in her eyes. 
“you have such a cute ass, y’know that?” he squeezes both of her cheeks in tandem, pulling them apart, pushing them together, “can already see the handprints forming.” his voice is low and rough.
“wh-really?” her brain feels fuzzy with desire as she tries to switch gears. 
“you wanna see?” 
she nods her head frantically, butterflies arising at the thought. 
carmen pulls his phone out of his back pocket and holds it over her, snapping a picture with a low groan. 
“look back at me,” he demands softly. 
she does, peering over her right shoulder to see him holding the camera facing her. the embarrassment makes her face feel hot, but she lets him take the picture anyway, looking into the lense with a small pout on her face. 
“so fucking pretty,” he growls, lowering the phone and clicking on the picture he took, admiring it for a moment before turning the phone so she could see. 
it was quite the picture—cherry red handprints over her round ass, shorts wedged up so far they look like underwear, the curves of her body accentuated by the angle. 
carmy swipes to the left and reveals the photo of her looking back at the camera, all flushed cheeks and pouty lips and misty eyes. she knows she should probably feel embarrassed, but seeing herself like that just makes the throbbing between her legs intensify. 
carmen turns off the phone and puts it back in his pocket. he leans over and grabs her face, studying her with furrowed brows before leaning down kissing her firmly. 
“you okay?” another kiss, “really?”
she nods, eagerly reciprocating the kiss, moaning a soft “mhm” against his lips.  
“didn’t hurt too bad?” his brows are furrowed, their movements beginning to quicken. she slips her tongue into his mouth and she begins to kiss him faster, losing herself in his lips. 
carmy reciprocates for a moment before muttering a gentle “hey,” pulling back a bit, “answer me.” his gaze flickers over the sheen on her cheeks, left behind from a few stray tears. 
her eyes flutter open, fighting the urge to not chase his lips. 
“it didn’t hurt,” she affirms hazily, “felt good. can you put it in? please?”
“jesus, christ” he groans, dipping back in for another kiss, “want me to fuck you? needy fuckin’ girl.”
she nods with a small, bashful smile and softly nips at his bottom lip, fighting the urge to bite harder. 
carmen straightens to his previous position behind her and slips his fingers beneath the hem of her bunched up shorts. he pulls them to the side to reveal her glistening pussy, letting out a sharp exhale at the sight. he’s about to reach out and touch her when she gasps.
“carm, the water.”
it angrily bubbles and pours down the sides of the pot, sizzling when it splashes onto the flames. 
“fuck,” he pulls away from her, quickly moving to turn off the burner. “stay right there.” 
and she would’ve, had another fucking phone not started ringing. 
the girl cries out his name frustratedly, just wanting him to come back over and fuck her brains out. 
“it’s not mine this time,” carmy defends, adjusting the tent of his pants. he’s so hard it’s almost painful, increasingly eager to get back behind her. 
she huffs and straightens, readjusting the uncomfortably wedged-up shorts as she follows the sound of the ringer. when she retrieves her phone from between the couch cushions, her heart drops at the contact name. 
mom.
in a single moment it’s like the air gets sucked from her lungs. her skin stops tingling with that warm heat, body stops buzzing with pleasure—all the good feelings flood from her suddenly. 
carmen wipes down the stove, drying the water that had boiled over before refilling the pot and turning the heat back on. his roommate talks in a hushed, urgent tone in the living room, and he tries to refrain from curiously moving closer and eavesdropping. curiosity almost gets the better of him, but a few more moments pass and he hears delicate footsteps approaching. 
he looks up, and catches the sight of her tear-streaked face. her big, sad eyes. a pit forms in his stomach. 
“everything okay?” he’s unable to hide the concern in his tone. 
she doesn’t say anything. she can’t. so she just rushes forward and crashes into him, wrapping her arms around his neck and hugging him tightly. 
“hey,” he soothes, tightly reciprocating the hug, “what happened?” he kisses the side of her head. 
it takes her a minute before she’s able to verbalize, just wanting to nuzzle herself as far into his chest as she can, wishing she could just disappear into him completely. 
he says her name, pulling away slightly to get a look at her sweet, sad face. “what’s goin’ on, huh?” 
“i’m going back next week,” it’s hard to make eye contact with him, so she looks to the side with blurry vision. 
“what?” it’s like a punch in the stomach. 
“i-…my mom,” she sighs exasperatedly, “she’s just getting worse,” at this point the tears stream down her cheeks. 
he cups her face with both hands, wiping them away with his thumbs. he just stares at her, not knowing exactly what to say to make this shitty situation better. 
“i’m-….fuck, i’m sorry.” he puts his forehead on hers, “m’so so sorry.” he doesn’t know exactly what he’s apologizing for—the state of her mother or the dread of her sudden departure. either way, there’s this overwhelming feeling of loss trying to wrap his head around how soon next week really is. 
“m’gonna go to bed,” she mutters, tightly closing her eyes to stop the flow of tears, nose brushing against his. 
“you don’t wanna eat with me?” 
she gives a small shake of her head, having lost her appetite at the news. 
carmy wants to push it. but she just looks so tired and sad, he figures it’s better not to. his hand comes to the back of her neck, and he pulls her into a bear hug, kissing the side of her head. 
“go wait in my bed for me,” another kiss, “i’ll be up in a bit.”
“i need a shower,” she mutters into his neck, “you made me all…sticky.”
he can’t help but let out a humorous exhale, finding a small bit of relief from her words. 
“yeah? sorry about that.” he has a soft, barely there smile on his face. 
“you know i love you, carmy?” 
her quiet confession stops his train of thought. stops the noise of it all. it kind of feels like it even stops his heart, just for a second.
it was something she hadn’t yet said to him without the hazy high of lust. something she had been waiting on until it felt real. 
carmen eases away from the tight hug, getting a good look at her face. she’s entirely genuine, brows furrowed and eyes glossy, searching his expression for reassurance. he dips forward and kisses her softly, hand caressing her cheek. 
“i know,” his thumb traces along her jaw, “i love you too.”
she turns her head to the side and kisses his hand.
“you gonna come to california with me?” she softly bites his thumb. 
“yeah, baby.” he nods. it’s a lie, and they both know that. 
sometimes it’s easier to fantasize about what could be than accept what never will. 
-
it’s far too late into the night by the time carmen has eaten and showered. he blearily trudges down the hall and pushes his door open. and like a breath of fresh air, there she was. cuddled up in his blankets, face buried in his pillow. it feels incredibly domestic, and he finds himself wishing he could come home to this every night of his life. 
carmen eases into bed slowly as to not wake her, shuffling his body against hers. then he just watches her for a bit. 
he watches her chest rise and fall. watches the way her lips slightly part with her heavy breaths. she looks so peaceful unconscious, like there isn’t a worry in the world. 
he thinks about how selfishly he wants to keep that placating expression on her face. wants to keep her to himself. thinks about how selfishly he wishes she didn’t even have a family to return to—how fucked up is that?  it’s almost surreal, staring at her sleeping form, mourning her loss while she’s still in front of him. tangible and soft and beautiful and sleeping right there. 
carmen reaches out and strokes her cheek at the thought, then leans in to press a gentle kiss to her resting lips. it doesn’t make him feel better like he thought it would. 
he turns off the light and pulls her in close. 
-
pt 2 of i didn't know
252 notes · View notes
officialstrawhat · 1 month ago
Text
The Hate We Love To Make
Roronoa Zoro x Fem!Strawhat!Reader
Summary: You and Zoro hate each other but feelings start to change when the captain of the Barto pirates points out what a great couple you two make.
Word Count: 1.3K
Note: Not Edited!
Masterlist
Tumblr media
The grand Colosseum of Dressrosa buzzed with the roars of the crowd. Fighters from all across the grand line had gathered, their minds filled with ambition. Among them stood Bartolomeo, nearly vibrating with excitement. He had just met his hero, Monkey D. Luffy, the future king of the pirates. But now, his attention was completely captivated by the scene unfolding before him. He couldn’t believe it! You and Roronoa Zoro were there standing right there!
Since Bartolomeo’s obsession with the Straw Hats began, he’d held the utmost respect and admiration for each crew member. But your relationship with Zoro held a special place in his heart. He’d heard tales of your synchronized battles, of how you two took down foes with perfect timing, always watching each other’s backs. Now, he watched as the two of you stood so close to each other, sharing what looked like an intimate conversation. 
Oh, how he wished he could hear every word you two were saying to one another…
OoOoOo
“IDIOT!” you hiss as Zoro walks away from you. “You’re going the wrong way!”
Kin’emon, dressed in his disguise, stood nearby with an exasperated look. In his short time knowing you he’d grown accustomed to the daily verbal sparring matches between you two.
Zoro spun around, eye narrowed. Your eyes locked with his, a storm brewing between you. “How would you know that? You’ve never been here either!”
“Because I’m not a moron!” You jabbed a finger in his direction, inching closer. It was infuriating how much Zoro seemed to get under your skin. 
Ever since you joined the crew, Zoro had an uncanny knack for getting in your way. You tried not to let it bother you but every time you were about to defeat an opponent, Zoro would swoop in and take them down first. It drove you insane. So you started doing the same to him, knowing it drove him mad with similar fury. Since then, you’d made it a habit to pick on him with Sanji, drink his alcohol, and “accidentally” wake him up from naps.
“If you’re so concerned about which way we’re going, then leave.” He pointed in the opposite direction with a sharp flick of his wrist. “Go that way.”
Kin’emon’s voice cut through the tension. “Please, there’s no need to argue—”
But neither of you heard him as you stepped forward. Your fists clenched as heat surged through your veins.  Your face was now very close to his,  “I hate you. I hope you get lost and don’t come back.”
Zoro’s lip curled, his head tilting in a mocking grin. “Big words coming from a meek woman!”
“Meek?” you repeated, eyes blazing. “You son of a b—”
A loud, high-pitched squeal erupted nearby. “Oh. My. God. It’s Mister Roronoa Zoro and Miss Y/N!” Bartolomeo’s eyes were wide with admiration, his hands clutched to his chest as if his heart might burst.
Your scowl turned to panic. “Um—no, no. I think you have us confused,” you blurted out, shifting awkwardly as Zoro gave you a look.
“Yeah, we’re just regular citizens of Dressrosa,” he added, voice dripping with sarcasm.
Bartolomeo was undeterred, bouncing with excitement. “May I just say you two are so cute together! The power couple of the Pirate Era!”
The world seemed to pause as you and Zoro exchanged glances, the fierce tension shifting to something strange and unspoken. You watched his eyes soften, only for a moment before hardening again. 
“Oh- No, we’re not a couple,” you protested.
“But you two are my OTP!” Bartolomeo exclaimed, looking devastated. 
“Listen, pal, I don’t know what that means, but she hates me,” Zoro huffed, gesturing toward you.”
“But… you defend each other in battle! Finish off each other’s foes!” Bartolomeo exclaimed. “And according to the Straw Hat fan club newsletter, it says and I quote: Zoro and Y/N’s secret love is a thing of beauty in this rough worl—”
“Yeah, hate to break it to you,” you interrupted, “but we have not, nor will we ever, be a thing.”
Bartolomeo’s face fell, and he broke out into exaggerated tears. “Oh, this is a tragedy! How could I be so wrong!”
Zoro exhaled, breaking eye contact. “Come on. We don’t have time for this.”
A small smile crept onto your lips as you followed him, muttering, “You’re still going the wrong way.”
OoOoOo
Kin’emon directed the two of you to a narrow alley, muttering something about searching for his friend and promising to return soon. As the sounds of the bustling street faded, silence settled between you and Zoro, thick with an awkward tension neither of you knew how to break. You found yourself overthinking the fanatics' odd assumption—why would he (and others apparently) think that you and the green-haired swordsman made a good match? You stole a glance at him. Sure, you didn’t want to admit it, but the scarred man was ruggedly handsome. But he had such an infuriating personality. With his brooding silences, those ridiculous earrings, and his rippling muscles—wait, what!?
The silence dragged on until, finally, Zoro broke it, pulling you out of your spiraling thoughts. “Tch, don’t listen to that weird guy. He’s got no clue what he’s saying.”
You let out a dry chuckle, “Yeah, seriously. I mean, can you imagine? You and me?”
Zoro smirked, his sharp gaze flicking over to you. “Yeah, right. Total disaster.”
“One of epic proportions,” you agreed, crossing your arms and leaning back against the wall. You turned your head, pretending to be absorbed by the junk lying around, “The world couldn’t handle it.”
A glint of something unguarded flickered in Zoro’s eyes as he stepped closer, his presence shifting from casual to something more intense. “And yet,” he said, his voice a low, teasing rumble, “you’re still here. You haven’t walked away.”
You raised an eyebrow, turning to meet his gaze. “Maybe I just don’t trust you not to get yourself into trouble the second I turn my back.”
He huffed a short laugh, taking another step that brought him close enough for you to feel the heat radiating off his body. “You think I need you to babysit me?”
“Need? No.” Your voice dropped, matching his tone. “But I know for a fact if it wasn’t for me you’d be neck-deep in trouble twice as often.”
A grin curled at the edge of his lips, his eyes flicking down to your lips and then back to your eyes, lingering for just a second too long. “Guess I’d better keep you close then, huh?” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.
Your heart skipped a beat, the atmosphere between you shifting, the sharp tension morphing into something far more dangerous. The unspoken heat you’d tried so hard to ignore suddenly flared, like a fuse catching fire. For a moment, neither of you moved, as if testing how far this would go. But then, something snapped—years of friction, half-buried glances, and barely-concealed bickering finally erupted. He surged forward, and before you could second-guess it, your lips crashed into his.
The kiss was intense, more battle than embrace, a raw clash of defiance and need. Your hands found his broad shoulders, fingers digging into them as his calloused hands cupped the back of your neck, then tangling in your hair. Everything else faded: the noise of the marketplace, the distant shouts of vendors, even the thought of Kin’emon returning. For this moment, it was just the two of you, like fire meeting spilled oil—volatile, explosive, and inevitable.
When you broke apart, both of you were panting, your breaths mingling in the space between you. Zoro’s lips curved into a smirk, his eyes darkened with something that made your pulse race. “You still hate me?” he asked, his voice a husky drawl.
“With a passion,” you growled, trying to steady your breathing.
“Good.” He chuckled, his hand sliding down to grip your ass possessively. With a rough shove, he pinned you harder against the wall, his lips ghosting the shell of your ear. “Wouldn’t want it any other way.” 
Your retort was lost as his lips found yours again, the world outside that narrow alley slipping into oblivion.
273 notes · View notes
too-deviant · 9 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
jackie and wilson.
previous | next masterlist.
pairing: luke castellan x unclaimed!reader
summary: you haven't been given a quest, but you have made it your personal mission to make luke castellan smile
word count: 6.2k
content: very juicy chapter. is all im gonnna say.
notes: i cant stay mad at my otps i fear
PART IV — better yet, she wouldn’t care 
“If I have to hear one more handjob joke, I’m gonna lose it. So please tell me you have good news.” 
Lee Fletcher’s dark blue eyes flitted up to yours, his lashes tickling just under his eyebrow when he did. His hands were fiddling with the bandage that wrapped around your hand, but they slowed when you spoke, “Bare with me, newbie.”
You sighed deeply, fighting the urge to fall back onto the cot that you were sitting on — you’d had the stupid bandage wrapped around your hand and wrist for what felt like eternity, but was really only five days. You should be thankful, really, since the last time you’d broken your wrist you’d been walking around with a thick blue cast on for a month, but you couldn’t help but be a little peeved. Capture the flag was today, and you hadn’t trained nearly as much as the others had due to your injury — when you probably should’ve been training twice as much, only because you were new and unfamiliar with the game. 
It was their fault for hyping it up; if they had just shut up about it, you wouldn’t have been as excited about taking part, broken wrist or not. But alas, demigods were barbarians — barbarians who thirsted to beat each other up in a controlled battle. Barbarians who didn’t have any regard for the new camper when they were climbing all over each other to see the freshly posted team setup, and trampled all over their perfectly good wrist. 
“Maybe you shouldn’t have been standing right in front of the notice board.” Luke had been saying all week. 
“Maybe you shouldn’t have asked me to accompany you there, then.” You replied every time. 
Lee narrowed his gaze, flipping your hand around carefully in his, kneading at curtain parts of your skin while checking you for reactions. When you showcased nothing but annoyance at your own shit luck, he leaned back with a cheeky smile, “Well, it’s looking good. I don’t think you need this anymore.” 
He lifted up the knot of bandage he’d removed from your hand and threw it with perfect precision into the trash can on the other side of the room, before turning and grinning at you. You couldn’t help but grin back, “You’re the best.” 
“I’m told.” He shrugged, feigning a humble demeanour. You stood, and he did so with you, looking at you pointedly, “But you should still take it easy today. It’s your first game, and you’ve been here for a week. Nobody is gonna judge you for stepping back today.” 
You scoffed, rolling your newly healed wrist around with a small smile, “I’m not stepping back for shit, Fletcher. I’m beating the hell out of Chris Rodriguez.”
“He’s on your team.” 
“I don’t care.” You rebutted. Lee rolled his eyes, but ultimately let you off with a wave. “See you later!” 
The past five days had been fairly tame. When the team setup was posted on Sunday afternoon, everyone went immediately into prep mode for the game. You knew they took it seriously, but you didn’t realise how seriously they did until you found yourself being pulled out of your sleeping bag at five in the morning so you could get a headstart on training with Luke. Although you didn’t see the relevance — after you’d broken your wrist, the boy hadn’t even let you look at a spear, so you woke up at the asscrack of dawn to…sit around and watch him train. 
Thankfully, Hermes had paired up with Ares for once, and Clarisse wasn’t letting you off easily. Whenever she could, she was dragging you to the arena and teaching you how to fight one-handed. So you were more than ready, skipping down the infirmary steps with an easy smile. 
“I think I see you here more than I see you anywhere else.” 
You paused, looking up and spotting Evan, leaning gently on the porch railing. You rounded the steps and stopped in front of him, “Hey. I’ve only been here twice.”
“In…” He checked his imaginary watch, “One week. That’s gotta be a record.”
You narrowed your eyes jokingly, “Okay. I’m still learning, leave me alone.” 
“We’ll see how much you’ve learnt later today.” He quipped, running a hand through his hair. He smirked at you, “Good luck.” 
“Thanks.” You slid out, sarcasm evident in your tone. He laughed, and you smiled, rolling your eyes. 
“Come on, clumsy. Let’s get to training.” He began to walk off, and you followed, presumably to where the Hermes team were gathering for last minute preparations. 
For this game, they’d paired up with Ares and Athena, Apollo taking lead for the blue team with Hephaestus and Aphrodite. Red team also had Demeter, and the boys of cabin twelve were on the blue team. It seemed like a pretty good split; or at least you thought it was, judging by the reactions of everyone when they read the pamphlet. You might have been reading it wrong, though. After all, you were crying out in pain and cradling a shattered wrist when it happened. 
Athena was always a good cabin to pair up with, was what Evie had told you when she was taking your measurements for armour. You presumed so, goddess of war and all. But you were a little wary about the Cabin Ten girls — Aphrodite was also a warrior goddess, after all. 
Evan led you around the back of the pegasi stables and through a mudded path. The only reason you hadn’t taken off running in fear that he was leading you to your imminent death was because the wood nymphs were out and about, milling around like bodyguards. They eyed you up at first, but a few of them recognised you from your impromptu baseball session with Luke last week and told them to back off. 
“Here she is, the woman of the hour!” Clarisse exclaimed when she saw you break through the trees. A few people glanced back and smiled at you politely, a sentiment you returned as Evan led you to the front of the crowd where she stood. 
Luke was beside her, and only nodded at you. You nodded back, a glimmer in your eyes that made his hands twitch. 
“Okay, now that our whole team is in attendance, we can begin.” The Ares girl said, conviction prominent in her voice. She was made to lead, that much was obvious. “You all know the deal. I won’t repeat it, not with the blue team so close by, but…” She sent a meaningful look around the whole crew, “You know where to go. We’ve been practising this, and in a couple of hours it’ll be time to bring home yet another win.”
“It’s pretty much all in the cards for us.” Luke cropped himself into the speech, “Cabin Nine have their special machinery but we’ve got wit, power and numbers. We’ll be fine.” 
“Speaking of cabin nine.” Clarisse hopped down from the wooden crate she was standing on, “I grabbed this from them just before the teams went up. Had to make sure they didn’t sabotage it.”
She pulled a long spear out from behind some other boxes, and let it shimmer in the light. It was beautiful, and you couldn’t keep your eyes away from it. Despite it being made from celestial bronze, the forger had clearly done something to make it shine a mesmerising silver. You could see your reflection in it as it glistened under the sun. It was double ended and if you squinted, you could see tiny spikes coiling around the first ten or so inches of each end. The shaft was smooth and engraved with something you could only make out when she walked over and handed it to you. 
“Wait.” You took it out of instinct, weighing it in both hands but giving a shocked look to Clarisse, “This is mine?” 
“You’re damn right.” She smirked, “Jake was having a field day making that thing, couldn’t stop talking about it. Especially when he added these,” She poked one of the spikes that coiled around the shaft and rubbed the tips of her fingers together with a wince, “They’re lethal. You’ll be unbeatable out there with this thing.” 
“Cool.” You gave it an experimental swing, and everyone in your vicinity took a long step back. You shrugged, smiling anyway, “Whoops.” 
You felt very powerful with your new weapon, and now that you had it in your hands, you could marvel at the engravings. They were images, battles fought — a lot of them recognisable. There was Perseus killing Phineus and Polydectes with Medusa’s head, Heracles and the Nemean Lion. There was even an engraving of Tantalus stealing the ambrosia and nectar from Olympus, for some reason. You’d have to ask Jake about that later. 
“We have two hours until we need to gather at the pavilion, so we won’t bore you with details.” A young girl who you’d seen around camp before stood up and addressed the crowd. She was very little, but she exuded authority even at her young age. “But if I see you lazing around, I’ll put my dagger through your foot.”
There was a chorus of nods and murmured agreement, so the little girl stepped back and nodded at Luke, who told them all to go get ready. The crowd dispersed, but you stayed firmly put as the boy made his way over to you, the little girl following behind him. 
“Sunny.” He tried not to smile, but you saw his lips twitch. He gestured to the girl beside him, “This is my little sister Annabeth. Newly appointed Counselor of Athena.”
You raised a brow, impressed, before looking down at the girl with a smile, “Hey, Annabeth.” You introduced yourself, trying not to show her how kind of scared you were for her to not like you. 
Luckily she nodded, “Hi. You better be good with that spear.”
“I’d like to think I am.” You joked. She didn’t laugh, simply telling Luke she was going to brainstorm and left you both alone in the clearing you’d been gathered in. You raised your brows at him, “I think she gets her stoic indifference from you.” 
He cracked a smile then, grabbing your spear from you and weighing it in his own hands, “Yeah. She’s a firecracker.” He looked at you firmly, “Think you’ll be good for this game? It’s not too late to back out.”
You snatched the weapon right back from him, rubbing his finger prints from the shaft with your sleeve and sending him a half-glare, “You just want an excuse to use this instead of me. I’m fine, JoJo.”
He raised a single brow, “Fine. But if you end up back in the infirmary, I’m not gonna kiss your wounds better.”
You smirked, backing away and pointing your free finger at him daringly, “You wouldn’t be able to hold back.”
He laughed, hand on heart, “Right.” 
You were quick to retreat to the Arena where you knew Clarisse was waiting for you. A good chance to break in the new armoury and swing a spear around that wasn’t made of styrofoam or rotten wood. You caught yourself a good sweat in an hour and a half, and Clarisse was covered in bloody dots from those spikes. Even if you were injured, they still didn’t stand a chance against those. It was a comforting thought. 
You would’ve practised the whole time had it not started raining — something that confused you greatly since the camp had a controlled climate. Clarisse just rolled her eyes, though, claiming that Chiron was upping the dramatics for the game. You were unsure that the centaur could just…make it rain, but you went along with it. You’d only been a demigod for a week after all. 
Not wanting to be completely soaked by the time the game started, you retreated back to the Hermes cabin, shortening your spear down with a click and tucking it into your belt loop before you sat down. You were still on the floor, still next to the six year-old who almost always rolled on top of you in the night — you had now perfected your rollover technique to get him off you without waking him up. 
You were re-lacing your combat boots when two shadows loomed over either side of you. Without so much as a glance away from your foot, you said plainly, “Stolls. What do you want?”
A twin pair of scoffs sounded and you just rolled your eyes. The one on the left spoke first, and you thought it might have been Travis, “Bold to assume we want anything.” 
“I mean, we do.” Connor added from your right, and the indisputable sound of a hard slap came right after. “Ow! Asshole.”
“Cut to it.” You moved onto your other shoe now that the left one was wound tight. You were always pretty speedy at tying laces, a fairly random skill but a skill nonetheless. 
“Well…” Connor started. 
“Luke put us on second offence.” Travis continued. 
“But we sorta hate doing second offence.” 
“Yeah, it’s way too much work.”
Connor leaned over your shoulder so his stupid grin was visible in your peripheral vision, “And we heard that you are on side offence. Which has a much lower maiming risk.”
“So you wanna swap spots?” You deducted, looking up from your feet and giving them a blank glance. They nodded, and you sighed, “Ok, first of all, there’s two of you and one of me. You’ll have to find someone else to swap with too.”
“Already done.” Travis nodded, “Sabine loves second offence.”
“Second of all,” You sent them firm looks, “Luke isn’t going to let you change the layout right before the game. Neither is Clarisse and neither is Annabeth.”
“Which is why we aren’t telling them.” Connor said like it was obvious, holding out his hands like he’d presented you with the best idea ever conjured, “Luke and Clarisse are on first offence and Annabeth is on last defence, right by the flag. No one will know.”
“Plus,” Travis sang, wiggling his eyebrows, “This is a perfect opportunity to prove to everyone how badass you are.”
“Yeah, Luke’s had you on a leash since you hurt your wrist.” Connor raised a teasing brow, “Why not show him what you’re made of?” 
You looked between them, and the silence that stretched seemed to serve as an answer because they were smirking at you and pushing themselves up and out of the door before you could utter a word. 
The rain hadn’t settled — Chiron and his dramatics, although it appeared Mr D wasn’t too much of a fan. God or not, he still got wet with the rest of them. You stood between Luke and Clarisse, the former shielding both your heads with his black jacket — Annabeth ended up squeezing between the two of you when she couldn’t keep up with her I’m too good to hide from the rain facade. You took it as a win, she was warming up to you! 
“Welcome to our first capture the flag of the summer!” Chiron bellowed, pausing for the cheers that resounded. “The usual rules are enforced. Magic weapons are permitted, the flag must be prominently presented with no more than two guards no less than ten yards from the flag! No killing or maiming, and no gagging or bounding of prisoners. Let the games begin!” 
There was a loud echo of cheers and battle cries as the first conch sounded — they only had twenty minutes to get into position and then they would be permitted to cross the creek into enemy territory. Annabeth was quick to gather up the flag guards and send them off to their agreed location with nothing but a sharp eye before she was pulling together the defensive lines and sending them off too.
“Hey.” Just before you could walk off, Luke grabbed your attention, levelling his eyes with yours as best as he could from under his helmet. He adjusted yours and patted your shoulders, “You got this, Sunny.”
You nodded, “Damn right I do.” 
It was hard to navigate the woods in the rain, which was still pouring almost torrentially over them. The forest floor had grown slippery and wet with the new downpour, but the campers traipsed through it roughly, boots squelching as they moved. You followed the side defence through mud and grass, dodging branches and puddles until you couldn’t hear the chatter of Luke and Clarisse from behind you. Then you stopped, and just ahead of you, Sabine did the same. 
It wasn’t long before Connor and Travis were pushing through the trees and greeting the pair of you with wide grins. Sabine rolled her eyes, “Shove off, punks.”
Then she was storming in the direction they came from, and you had no choice but to follow. It was hard to keep up with her long strides, but whenever you lost her in the fog you just followed the sound of her annoyed mutters. 
“Stupid kids. Can’t be trusted on last offence let alone second. It’s not fair. I punch one kid for cheating and Luke sends me to side defence. Side! Stupid punk has been out of it for too long, needs a reality check.”
You didn’t bother responding — whether you were going to agree or come to Luke’s defence, you had no idea. You just followed her to the edge where the second offence was lined up just past the edge of the shore. Evie and Evan gave you the same confused look. 
“Those Stoll fuckers wanted an easy out.” Sabine spat, pushing a stray curl back under her helmet and heaving her giant club over her shoulder. 
The twins didn’t question or fight the decision, simply shrugging and going back to where they were tracing their own tic tac toe game into the wet sand. You stood idly, hands fiddling with your belt buckle before the second conch sounded. Almost immediately did the first and side offences cross the creek and disappear into the woods, while you pulled your spear from the ground and followed the twins and Sabine across the water moments after they were gone. 
Then it was a waiting game. 
“Fuck Apollo, Marry Athena and Kill Hermes.” 
Evie scoffed, shaking her head, “No. No way. Athena would be way controlling as a wife, you gotta bag Apollo.” 
Sabine hummed, “No. I think Athena and I would be unstoppable together.”
You looked up from your shoes and between the three that stood before you. It had been two hours and the most action you had was seeing one of your own teammates get flung right back over the creek by some cabin nine contraption that you were not too keen on meeting. Your spear rested across the back of your shoulders, your arms swung around the shaft at either side as you contemplated your own answer. 
“No, see —“ You huffed, “I couldn’t marry Athena, but only because she conjures babies with her brain. I could never win an argument, I know that for sure.”
“But we all agree on killing Hermes, right?” Evan butted in with a laugh that was immediately shared by the rest of them. He settled down and squinted for a moment, “Ok. Fuck, Marry, Kill. Iris, Nemesis and…Hypnos.” 
There was immediate discourse, everyone speaking up at once with their own opinions. Sabine thought Hypnos would be a terrible lay — He’d fall asleep halfway through! — but Iris would be overbearing as a wife. Evie said Nemesis would be the best wife, she’d never let anyone hurt you, and you were just about to add on that Iris could let you eavesdrop on other people’s conversations whenever you were bored when a loud crack echoed through the trees. 
Then it was quiet. You all shared silent looks, baring your weapons and facing the enemy side. 
Another crack, a snap of a twig. Then a crash, like something being dropped onto a pile of leaves. 
A scream, and a manic son of Aphrodite breaking through the trees and aiming a large Kopis at Evan, who was quick to defend with his dual wielding swords. His teammates followed, and the rest of you jumped into action — you were only slightly panicked when you realised your opponent was a Hephaestus kid who was nearly double your height. 
You’d seen him around sometimes, he was only a year or so younger than you. Same age as Clarisse, and definitely the same level of skill in battle. What made him even scarier was that he fought with nunchucks…fucking nunchucks! And he was good with them, too. 
But you had been taught well. You were quick to defend your body and use both ends of your spear to deflect each nunchuck from making contact. At one point, he clipped your arm pretty hard, and that was when you realised they were ribbed along the edges making for a harder hit. You bounced back though, swinging every which way and not letting him touch you again. 
Briefly, you could hear your peers’ own battles. There weren’t any shouts of pain, or cries for help, so you put all your focus on the boy before you. He had a height advantage, and swung his weapon down on you fairly often, which left your torso open when you held your spear over your head. But your reflexes were like lightning, and no matter how hard he tried he just couldn’t land that second hit. 
Fuelled by his own frustration, he lunged forward and tried to wrap the chain of his chucks around the shaft of your spear. He attempted to no avail a couple of times, but then he clicked a button on one of the shafts and released a crackle of energy along it. You were shocked momentarily by the reveal of his electric nunchucks that you faltered in your defence and he managed to wrangle your weapon in his own on the third try. You pulled back hard, trying to regain control and prevent his disarm, but he just pressed that damn button again and this time the volts ran through his chain and up the entire length of your spear. 
The crack that resounded was huge. Too huge to have come from those tiny nunchucks.  
Where you were expecting a sudden and painful shock through your hand and arms you instead felt a massive give. You stumbled back, shocked, but regained your footing before you could fall onto the wet ground. Your spear was in your hands, and the nunchucks were still wrapped tightly around the middle. You looked up from them to see their owner crumbled in a heap on the ground, nursing his painfully red hands while the rainfall soaked his clothes even more. 
You’d completely forgotten you weren’t alone until one of his teammates dropped their shield and ran to his aid. You looked up, expecting to meet the dumbstruck eyes of Evie and Evan, only to see their gazes fixed elsewhere. You turned your head. 
There in the grass was a giant streak of black, stretching along the shore for nearly five metres. It took a second for you to realise that it was embers — the ground had been burnt completely from where you stood to where it ended. And standing just before it was Luke and Clarisse — the blue team's flag in hand. They weren’t moving, they were staring at the burn in the floor, at you.
Your chin wobbled a little until the echo of the other team reached your ears. You looked at the pair urgently, “Move!”
And they did. Even when the blue team kids you’d been fighting  before tried to stop them, they were held back and Luke and Clarisse led your team to an easy victory. 
They cheered, and the conch sounded. Chiron emerged through the wood and smiled at them in congratulations — the whole spark debacle was nearly forgotten, campers too busy either cheering or groaning to notice the burn streak on the floor. Chiron did, though, and soon though the short lived celebration quieted down as he asked about it. 
Eyes turned to you. You shrugged, “I don’t…I don’t know what happened, it just —“
But then there were gasps. All around you. And suddenly Chiron wasn’t looking at you, he was looking at the space above your head. And then so was everyone else. 
When you looked up, squinting past the rain, and your eyes fixated on that glowing lighting bolt that floated above your head, the world went quiet. A week of hearing everything about the glory of being claimed — how at ease you would be, how reassured you would end up. None of it was true. Because for some reason, the symbol that hung above your head sent nothing but trepidation running through you. 
You almost missed Chiron's next words,  
“Zeus. Law Maker. Striker of Lightning. King of Olympus. All hail.” He shouted your name, but it didn’t feel right in your ears, “Daughter of the Sky God.”
When you couldn’t stand the sight of it — when it started to make you feel sick, when the picturesque summer camp you were finally finding yourself in started to feel tight and uncomfortable, you looked down. Everyone was kneeling, eyes on the ground. It was comforting that they weren’t staring at you anymore, but when you searched the crowd for those baby brows that held you down, they were fixated firmly on the mud. 
After your claiming, Chiron dismissed everyone sharply. They left, all talk about the capture the flag win long left behind and replaced by canards about you and your family. Your lineage. You were very prepared to stand frozen on the other side of the creek for the rest of the day but the centaur ushered you into his office in the big house just as the rain stopped. 
The next hour was a muffled blur. You felt as if you had just been plunged underwater and all you could hear was your heartbeat in your ears — you vaguely registered Chiron and Mr. D asking you a load of questions about your childhood and whether there were any signs of your parentage along the way. You couldn’t answer that. 
They Iris-Messaged your mother — who was in her office and jumped up startled when the call came through. You might have been in a hazy funk, but you could tell the surprise on her face when Chiron informed her of your claiming was genuine. She’d had no idea. That, out of all things, angered you the most. 
“This new information will have caused quite a stir in Olympus.” Was one of the last things he said, “But you should be fine, since you’re seventeen.”
“Why does me being seventeen mean anything?” 
Zeus’ Cabin was subpar to say the least. Alright if you’re only going in there to worship the guy, not so alright if you’re planning on living there. There weren’t any beds, but there were alcoves lining the walls that you tucked your sleeping bag into so you didn’t have to look at the giant statue of Zeus that stood at the end of the room. For good measure, you chucked a spare blanket over its head — he could smite you for it, you didn’t really care anymore. 
You zoned back into reality when a knock sounded on your door, and you realised it was nightfall. Dinner time. You stood from your perch on one of the many benches that sat in the room — you thought they’d have better use in the pavilion, where Hermes kids were practically falling off the benches there were so little of them — and headed over to the huge double doors, heaving one open and breathing deep at the workout it took just to see who was at the door. 
It was Evie, and for some reason that made a pit of disappointment form in your gut. You sent her a weak smile nonetheless, “Hi.”
She smiled back, full of pity, “Hey. Just thought I’d come check on you, we haven’t seen you in hours.”
“I didn’t like them staring at me.” You said plainly, stepping out into the open air. The rain had stopped now, the sky clear, and you fought the urge to roll your eyes. 
“Yeah, I get that.” Was her heartfelt reply. You felt bad for being so plain with her, but there was really only one person you wanted to see, “But, um, it’s dinner right about now. Wanna…come with?”
You didn’t really wanna, but you were starving and almost certain that nobody would be bringing you any food, so you shrugged, “Sure.” 
The large door shut on its own when you stepped away from it, and Evie jumped at the sound. You folded your arms and walked alongside her in silence until you were forced to part at the pavilion. She tried to say something — maybe a goodbye, a good luck. Maybe a we can’t be friends anymore because you’re forbidden. You didn’t stick around to check, walking over to the empty Zeus table where you unfortunately belonged. 
You filled your plate, hungry from the workout of capture the flag and exhaustion from the day, but your appetite was ruined when you saw Luke walk in and avoid your eyes completely in favour of sitting at his usual spot at the Hermes table. You hadn’t seen him all day, he hadn’t seen you, and yet here he was; ignoring your existence like he used to. It sort of hurt. 
So you dropped your fork, leaned your elbows on the untouched wood and stared at nothing. Only hours earlier were you at the top of your game, happy and ready to use your skills in capture the flag, show your friends what you could do. Now? You were completely alone, completely miserable, and completely ready to go back to Vermont. 
You wanted nothing more than to climb into your bed and cry. 
People started to stand. Heading in the direction of the campfire that you were definitely going to skip. Some Hermes kids stood, Luke included, and started a slow stroll down there too, past your table and down the hill. Chris was talking animatedly to his friends on either side of him, but Luke didn’t look very happy with whatever it was he was saying. Before you could build up the courage to call out for him, beg him to look you in the eyes and still stay your friend, he was shoving Chris roughly, the boy falling into your table with a grunt. 
“What the hell, man?” He sneered, brushing himself off. Luke just glared. He scoffed, “You’ve changed, bro. And not for the better.”
Then he was walking off in a huff, and his friends were following him. Luke met your eyes for half a second before storming off in the opposite direction — and with the influence of the tug on your heart, you followed. 
He was halfway to the Hermes cabin when you caught him, and you were thrown back to the time he got into that…thing with Dean from Ares and you chased him all the way up the hill. This time, it was down, and you were a lot less out of breath when you reached out and tugged on his elbow. 
He turned to you, “What?”
You paused, hand falling to your side. You swallowed, shrugged, “I…uh…”
Luke tightened his jaw, eyes flicking above your head like if he looked at you any longer his facade would break. He took in a deep breath and met your gaze once more, “Go to the campfire.”
“What —?”
“Go to the campfire.” He was backing away, “Entertain your fans, give out autographs. Conjure some more lighting. I don’t know. Do something, but don’t do it here.” 
You weren’t having that. Your gaze hardened, “Hey. You’re not allowed to say that to me after you ignored me all day.”
“I —“ He went for a rebuttal, but came up short, licking his lips in frustration. “You disappeared.”
“I was in the Big House, being interrogated.” You explained, annoyance clear in your tone, “I would’ve liked it if my best friend was waiting for me when I got out but unfortunately he decided he hated me like everyone else and I had to cry alone in my cabin.” 
He paused then, taking slow steps back towards you and meeting your saddened gaze. His brows furrowed, “I’m your best friend?” 
You cracked a tiny smile, “Of course you are, idiot.” 
His nod was barely there, but you saw it. You also saw his smile, small like yours and gone in a flash. “I don’t hate you.” He said, “I don’t care that Zeus is your dad. It’s just…”
“He forgot about me.” 
“What?”
You shrugged, folding your arms. There, standing in the middle of the cabins and staring at Luke Castellan, you admitted out loud what you’d been avoiding since you left the Big House, “Zeus. He forgot about me. That's why I never got attacked by monsters, because my deadbeat father was so busy turning his kid into a tree that he forgot he had another one.” 
Even under the tears brimming in your lids and through the lump on your throat, you saw Luke flinch. A minute movement, but you caught it like you caught all of his other details. The freckle on his eyebrow, the scar on his forehead that other people missed because they were too busy staring at his big one. The flinch when you brought up the tree. Thalia Grace, is what Chiron had called her. 
“I’m sorry for avoiding you.” He said in a low murmur. “Thalia was a friend of mine and Annabeth’s. Brought back some rough memories.” 
“Oh.” You breathed, “Oh, gods. I’m so sorry.” 
You stepped forward and wrapped your arms around his torso before you could think about it. Big bad Luke definitely didn’t like hugs, but there you were; hugging him and staining his camp shirt with your salty tears. You couldn’t help it — you were so full of emotions that a single hug that he hadn't even reciprocated was bringing you to tears. 
Then he hugged you back, and you started bawling. 
Bawling like a baby into his chest while he stood there and held you. Crying about your dad who forgot about you, your sister who died while you lived a happy life, your nonexistent purpose in life because you were over sixteen now and there was nothing for you. Maybe being a forbidden kid was enough, but not really. You weren’t forbidden enough for them, apparently. 
“Sorry for shoving Chris.” He spoke into your hair. You pulled your head back enough to meet his eyes, “He was saying shit about you and Thalia and it pissed me off. I know that you want me to be better, happier or whatever, and I am trying but…”
“I don’t care.”
His lips shut with a smack, “What?”
You let out a sad chuckle, “Be miserable. I don’t care, I like you for who you are. Plus, I get it. Y’know? This isn’t the happiest life.” 
Luke looked at you with an expression so genuine and heavy that it sort of scared you, but you let it burn you. You’d let him burn you forever more. Then he let out a breath, tinged with relief, and relaxed his forehead onto your own. You stayed like that, heads pressed together and arms wrapped around one another, until footsteps bled into your ears. 
You pulled away from each other and spotted Annabeth, who was making her way over very quickly, trudging through the grass that was still wet from earlier. 
“Anna Banana.” Luke squinted, his new way of smiling, “What are ya’ doing over here?”
The girl stopped between the two of you and ignored her brother in favour of looking at you, “So, you’re Zeus’ kid.”
“Yup.”
“I knew your sister. She was my sister, too, for a bit.” She said, and you thought it sounded sad, but the girl hid her emotions well. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.” You shrugged — it wasn’t anyone’s fault but Zeus’. You sent her a kind smile. 
She returned it, glancing at Luke then, “Don’t call me that.” 
He chucked, patting her on the head and yanking on one of her braids. She huffed and smacked his hand away, but smiled nonetheless. Then she looked back at you, “You were good with that spear today. Maybe Athena could pair up with Zeus for the next game.”
“Maybe they could.” You nodded. 
She nodded back, before announcing her departure and heading off. You looked at Luke with a proud grin, “She likes me.” 
He smiled fully, amused, “She does.”
“You like me.”
A little sheepish, “I do.”
“So who cares if daddy dearest doesn’t?” You settled on, tilting your head, “We got each other.” 
Luke nodded, and you admired the way he looked. He was handsome, that you knew, but he seemed particularly beautiful under the moon, alone with you.
🏷️ @katherines-imagines @lovingjasontoddmakemewanttocry @jennapancake @cobaltskiez @loveryoushouldcomeoverr @m00ng4z3r @ma1dita @woodlandwrites @tsireyasgf @theo-notts-doll @iammightsadyall @fennecswife @csifandom @evilwrongdoer @blueberryjune @dancing-inasnowglobe @acidaciruela @solshaven @rosieandthethorns @sofiacblair @obxstiles @lukecastellanirl (comment to be removed/added!) (also sorry if some of these didn’t work idk what’s going on)
408 notes · View notes
honeybeefae · 1 year ago
Text
Shadows of Fire (Azriel x Reader x Eris)
Tumblr media
Summary// You stumbled upon something that you should have never seen, something that would send two courts of Pyrthian into chaos if made public. After a week of trying to forget, the two men cornered you, leaving you nowhere to run even if you wanted. However, deep down inside, did you?
(Azris is like my OTP and writing this was SO fun. I love this idea of a reader sandwich and I cannot lie I have fantasized about this exact scenario multiple times. Enjoy this 4,600 smut fic! I hope you guys like it!)
WARNINGS: Smut, Threesome, Bondage, Edging, Orgasm Denial, MMF, Spitting
By the time you arrived back at your shared apartment, it was late. You weren’t even meant to be there tonight but the date you had planned went up in smoke. He was cocky and rude, staring at your breasts for most of the night while the rest was spent bragging about the women he slept with. 
It shouldn’t have been a surprise to him when you declined his invitation to go home with him but by the look on his face, he seemed shocked his moves hadn’t made you putty in his hands. You had to refrain from rolling your eyes when he sneered at you, storming off like a child.
Good riddance.
Your roommate, Azriel, had plans tonight and you hoped you wouldn’t be interrupted as you unlocked the door quietly. His late-night rendezvous often left at this time so your fingers were crossed that you wouldn’t walk in on something that would make your eyes bleed.
And it wasn’t that you thought he was unattractive. Anyone with two eyes could see that he was, with tan skin and a lean frame. Black tattoos covered his body which only added to his dangerous vibe not even counting the wings. You weren’t stupid enough to deny the attraction.
However, you also weren’t stupid enough to jeopardize a friendship for a fuck that could only end badly. Azriel didn’t “do” relationships and you had heard more than one girl leave angrily when he denied them the night. No matter how badly you might want to have sex with him you were not going to give in to the temptation.
The floor creaked under your bare feet as you gingerly walked down the hallway, keeping your eyes ahead as you strained to hear any noises. You cursed under your breath when you heard soft moans and grunts coming from his room, the smell of sex increasing with every step you took.
You picked up your pace and prayed to the Mother they didn’t hear you, not wanting to deal with Azriel’s agitation or god forbid a jealous woman thinking you were here to steal her man. As you beelined for your room beside his you saw the door to his bedroom slightly ajar and you froze when you heard something… unexpected.
“Oh, Az,” A deep, sultry voice moaned loudly. “I always knew you couldn’t resist me.”
That voice…didn’t belong to a woman. It also didn’t belong to just any man, at least not a regular one. Thanks to your emissary duties to the Autumn Court, you knew that voice like the back of your hand. 
That voice belonged to Eris.
Surprise was an understatement for what you were feeling as your feet cemented into the floor, your dark figure looming in the doorway as you saw the two of them. There were a few candles lit around the room, giving just the right amount of light for you to see the two sworn enemies in a very interesting position. 
Azriel had Eris pinned against a wall, his wings tucked in tightly as he bit and sucked at the red-headed male’s neck. Eris had his head thrown back in ecstasy, his hands digging into the Shadowsinger’s hips as he ground down onto his clothed thigh. They were both breathing heavily, their shirtless chests already coated in sweat. You knew you needed to leave, to pretend that you never saw the two of them like this, but something about them was hypnotic.
The way their bodies moved against each other, how Azriel’s shadows caressed the neglected areas of Eris while they shucked off the rest of their clothes. It was like they were the only two in the world. A thrill went down your spine at being such a voyeur to this scene, the taboo couple adding fuel to the fire as you felt yourself grow wet.
“I might put that mouth of yours to better use, prince,” Azriel growled as he grasped Eris’s cock through his boxers, his grin feral at how he melted into his touch. “You’re only good for sucking my cock anyways. Isn’t that right?”
One of your hands flew over your mouth to conceal the moan that wanted to escape as you watched Eris nod submissively, his knees hitting the floor as if it were the most natural thing in the world. It shouldn’t have been as hot as it was.
Azriel fisted Eris’s hair into his hand and guided him to his cock, his nostrils flaring as he got to work. You could only see his head bobbing up and down but your mind was ready to fill in the blanks, your fingers itching to bury themselves in your needy cunt.
“Oh, fuck, Eris,” The Illyrian growled loudly, his hips pistoning in and out as he used him as his fucktoy. You watched Eris palm at his red cock, the candlelight catching the bead of precum on his tip as he readily took everything Azriel gave to him.
Your fingers were teasing the waistband of your panties before you sent them further south, rubbing your clit through your underwear. It was just the right amount of friction that had you biting your tongue to keep quiet as you watched them. 
After only a few seconds of teasing yourself, you couldn’t wait any longer and hastily pushed your panties aside to shove your fingers inside yourself. You knew it wasn’t going to be enough but you kept fucking yourself, matching your thrusts with Azriel's as their moans grew louder. 
Everything was getting too hot, too fast, and you gripped the doorway to steady yourself, freezing when it creaked under your weight.
No, no, no, no…
Both men froze and turned to look where the sound had come from, their gazes full of surprise and what looked like anger as they took in your form, your smell, and your hand down your pants. You blinked once before yanking your fingers out of your still-dripping core and running out the apartment door, slamming into an innocent person who just happened to be walking by.
“Sorry! I’m so sorry!” You spluttered as you kept running, waving a hand behind you while weaving through the streets. The night air was cold on your skin as you looked behind you, making sure you weren’t followed before you finally stopped to lean against a building. “What the fuck have I done?”
Both of your hands went up to grab the sides of your head as you looked up at the stars, shaking your head in disbelief. You had lost yourself in watching them, their passion, and not only intruded on their very personal moment but also fucked yourself while watching.
You had just ruined not one but two relationships for a stupid, lust-driven decision. Azriel would never be able to look you in the eyes again and Eris…mother above, your already shaky relationship with his court has now crumbled completely.
“I am so screwed…I might as well pack my shit up tonight.” You mumbled to yourself, trying to stop your bottom lip from quivering as your anger turned to sadness. 
“Why would you do that?” A raspy voice asked from beside you, making you jump and whip around. Your eyes widened in fear when you saw Azriel leaning casually against the wall, Truthteller twirling in his hands. “Did you see something you weren’t supposed to?”
“Azriel, I-” You tried to explain, taking a nervous step back only to bump into a solid mass. Your throat bobbed as you leaned your head back to find a smirking Eris. “Guys, listen, I am so sorry-”
“Are you though?” Eris tilted his head, grabbing your forearms roughly and spinning you around to face him. “You could have run, you could have gone to bed, but you stood there watching us…”
“With your fingers shoved in your needy little cunt.” Azriel finished for him, pushing himself off the wall to come up behind you. “What you saw tonight…it does not leave your mouth, do you understand?”
You hesitated, your entire body on high alert as you were sandwiched between the two men, and you flinched when you saw Az’s eyes darken. Before you could blink he had his scarred fingers gripping your face painfully, his nose brushing against yours as he bent down and said, “Answer me.”
“I swear on my life.” You promised quickly, eyes flickering between the two of them. “I won’t tell anyone just please let me go, please don’t hurt me.”
He held you for a moment longer before letting go, both of them stepping back as you took in much-needed air with a hand over your chest. Adrenaline was coursing through your body as you started to walk away, resisting the urge to run, until something cool wrapped around your wrist and yanked you back.
Your feet stumbled but you caught your footing before you could faceplant, looking down to see one of Azriel’s shadows holding your arm. You lifted your frantic gaze upwards only to see them both smirking devilishly.
“Do you smell that?” Azriel hummed, raising a brow towards Eris as the redheaded nodded and clicked his tongue.
“I do…it’s the same smell that was in the apartment when Y/N was fucking herself,” Eris replied. You could feel a shift in the air as they watched you with wicked delight. The sound of your heartbeat was roaring in your ears as you struggled against the shadowy binds only to gasp when a rope of fire slithered around your other arm. “Where do you think you’re going, pet?”
“The fun is just starting.” The Spymaster smiled as they both tugged you forward roughly, sending you spiraling towards them until four large hands caught you and straightened you out. “You wanted to watch us so badly. Let us put on a proper show for you.”
“No, I don’t-” You tried to protest only to shudder when you felt a pair of warm lips on the shell of your ear, the heat of the fiery bonds increasing briefly as Eris dragged a hand down the side of your body. It shouldn’t have felt as good as it did and when you looked up you saw Azriel watching you with hooded eyes. 
“Are you sure about that, mouse? Look at how quickly you’re coming apart.” He snickered, cupping your face and running his thumb over your bottom lip. “We’ve barely even touched you and you look like you’re ready to burst.”
Eris continued his lazy exploration of your body while his mouth caressed your neck. Your hands were fisted at your sides as Azriel watched on, licking his lips as he slipped the pad of his thumb into your mouth. “Suck it.”
And despite all the qualms you had about this situation, about the two of them, you found yourself immediately listening to his instructions. You took the large digit and started sucking and swirling your tongue around it, the slight groan from Az’s throat only spurring you on.
“Good girl.” Eris whispered into your ear. 
Another shiver ran down your spine from his words as you closed your eyes to avoid the embarrassment of how much this was turning you on. However, Azriel seemed to want to watch how they were affecting you. Both of their bonds suddenly disappeared as you stumbled back, barely catching yourself against the wall as you glared at them.
“What the hell?” You huffed, crossing your arms before letting out a small shriek as Eris threw you over his shoulder. Your fists banged against his back while your feet kicked around but a loud, hard slap to your ass got you to still momentarily.
“Save your voice for the bedroom, pet. You’re going to need it.” He chuckled with a glance over at Azriel, the two of them nodding before you felt yourself drop into nothingness. Your stomach churned as you winnowed into Azriel’s bedroom, Eris dropping you roughly on the bed as the Spymaster swooped in from the balcony.
“I truly am sorry, more than sorry even, for invading your privacy.” You swallowed thickly, your palms sweaty. “What I did was wrong and perverted and-”
“Mother above, shut her up, Eris.” Azriel rolled his eyes, smiling when your eyes widened as a thick rope of fire tightened around your throat. It wasn’t tight enough to cut off your airway but you knew he could if he wanted. “Spare us the holier than though speech, mouse.”
“I’m just-” You tried to argue only to gasp when the fire grew hotter. Your skin starts to sweat from the heat and you realize that four more binds have wrapped around your wrists and ankles, spreading you open for the two of them. Eris also used the opportunity to burn your clothes to dust, the wind scattering it across the floor as he left you bare for them.
“You just what? You just stood there and watched as I fucked Eris’s mouth? Stood there and touched yourself to the sight of the two of us?” Azriel was now on top of you, his eyes dark and tone seductive. “Admit it, Y/N. Admit it to yourself that you enjoyed watching us. Admit that deep down inside you are nothing but a wanton whore.”
“I’m not!” You denied, frowning, only to thrash and struggle as a cloth was shoved into your mouth. “Mmm! Mphm!”
Azriel clicked his tongue while shaking his head, stepping back onto the floor and turning to Eris. “Shall we continue before we were so rudely interrupted?”
“What about her?” Eris jerked his head towards you as you still struggled against your restraints. He frowned and narrowed his eyes, the flames licking up your skin burning fiercely for a moment until you whimpered in pain. “I must admit, I’ve wanted to taste her from the moment she walked into my court.”
“As soon as she can admit to herself that she loves watching and being treated like this, she can join us. Until then…” Azriel trailed off, grabbing Eris’s hips and pulling him towards him. The redhead grinned and kissed him with a passionate fire you could feel from the bed, their teeth clashing as they hastily removed their clothing.
You bit down on the cloth as their cocks sprang free from the confine of their pants, both of them impossibly large and thick. Azriel had more length while Eris was slightly girthier, though you know what mattered more was how they used it. Wetness began to pool between your thighs once more as you wriggled slightly, trying to gain some friction.
“Knees. Now.” Azriel commanded, his chest rumbling when Eris readily responded and took his cock in his mouth. It was already hard and you moaned loudly when you saw Eris’s throat bob with every inch he took of the Illyrian. 
Your fingers flexed as you watched him swallow Azriel down to the base, the Shadowsinger making a choking sound before grabbing a fistful of red hair and holding him there for several seconds. Tears were welling up in Eris’s eyes as he struggled to breathe but he never fought against Az’s hold. He took everything he was giving him.
“Good boy, good fucking boy,” Azriel grunted, finally letting him come up for air as he turned to look at you. “Look at how wet you’ve made her, Eris. She’s soaking the sheets.”
“Fuck, she looks delicious…” Eris moaned. “Are you ready to submit yet, pet? Ready to show us how good you can be?”
You hesitated, struggling with the moral and immoral thoughts swirling around your brain, and whined when Azriel shrugged his shoulders and turned back to his lover. “Her loss.” He said, using Eris’s hair to guide him back to his throbbing dick. “Eyes on me, prince.”
He had no hesitation as he went back to work on his cock, his hands rubbing where his mouth couldn’t reach. Your mouth went dry as you saw Azriel grow more and more desperate, his hips snapping in time with Eris’s sucking. Every inch of your skin felt as if you were on fire and when you saw Azriel shove him all the way down his throat, spilling inside him, your resolve finally broke.
“Mmmph! Mmm!” You garbled through the makeshift gag, your pussy weeping with how desperate you were. They ignored you, lost in their own euphoria as Eris’s own cock jerked in need of release. 
“Don’t swallow it, greedy prince. Keep my cum warm for me while I check on our little voyeur.” Az smirked, gingerly pulling out of his mouth before strolling towards you. His cock was glistening with Eris’s spit and his own cum, already starting to get hard again as you looked up at him with pleading eyes.
“Something to say, mouse? Do you need something?” He taunted, one of his shadows ghosting over your swollen cunt. It made you buck your hips as you struggled to talk, gasping for air when Azriel yanked the wet gag out of your mouth. “Speak now or forever hold your peace.”
“I like it. I like it and I shouldn’t but I do,” You rambled, chest heaving with each word. “I’m a dirty slut who liked it just please, please fucking touch me. I’m begging you. I need it.”
Azriel mulled over your words, the shadow pressing more firmly on your clit. You knew if he kept going you would cum in no time, your inner walls already clenching as you bit down on your lip to try and control yourself. 
“Was that good enough for you, Eris?” Azriel asked, smirking when he saw him already climbing up the end of the bed. “Or should we make her beg more?”
“No, no, please!” You nearly cried, ignoring the burn from your bonded hands and feet as you tried to get up. “I promise I’ll be good, I promise. I’ll do whatever you want just please touch me.”
You flinched when Azriel’s fingers tilted your head to look at him, his eyes drinking in your tear-stained cheeks and flushed face. He studied you for what felt like forever before bending down until his forehead was touching yours. “You’re ours now, little mouse.”
Eris’s hot, wet tongue licked up your cunt as you were staring at Azriel and it made you cry out in pleasure, taken off guard as he latched onto your clit and started sucking on it roughly.
It was too much sensation at once and with how worked up you were, you already felt yourself teetering on the edge. Azriel seemed to realize as he crawled beside you and pinned your arms to the bed, Eris’s fire disappearing instantly. “Don’t you dare fucking cum, whore. You have to be given permission.” 
“I can’t-” You choked, your hips grinding down as Eris moved down to circle the tip of his tongue over your hole. “I can’t hold it! Please!”
“I said no,” Azriel growled, fingers digging painfully into the soft skin of your arms. “Stuff her full of my cum, prince. Claim her for me.”
Your brows furrowed in confusion until you watched as Eris pulled away from your sopping wet cunt, a small string of saliva following him, and spat Azriel’s cum onto your pussy. The sight of it had your toes curling as Eris gave you a devilish smile, sliding two fingers down your lips, collecting the cum, and then shoving them roughly inside you.
“Oh, fuck!” You yelped as he fucked his lover’s cum into you, his fingers curling with each thrust before he went back to licking and biting your clit. It was the hottest thing you had ever seen and you almost sobbed when Azriel pinned your hips down to keep you still.
All you could do was lay there and take it, desperately trying to fend off your orgasm as Azriel whispered in your ear, “Take it like the dirty slut you are mouse. Feel his thick fingers inside of you, fucking my cum into you.”
“She tastes so fucking, mmph-” Eris growled into your pussy, his amber eyes glowing like embers as he looked up at you. “So fucking good.”
“I bet she does, I can smell how sweet she is,” Azriel said, his fingers dancing down your body until he got to your breasts. “And look at how beautiful these are…just waiting to be marked up.”
He gave your right nipple a harsh smack at the same time Eris sucked your clit again, the pain and pleasure mixing in a toxic wave of lust. They had you seeing stars and they were just getting started. 
“Please, Azriel, Eris, please let me cum,” You begged, your bottom lip quivering as your legs shook with the effort to contain it. “I’ll be good, I’ll be a good girl.”
“You’re so cute when you beg like that, Y/N.” Azriel praised, goosebumps rising on your skin as his breath blew softly onto your neck. “So pretty, such a good whore. Do you think she should cum, Eris?”
Eris pulled back, ignoring your whimpers as he rose to his knees and pulled Azriel into a heated kiss so that he could taste your juices on his tongue. You huffed out angrily, nearly ready to stomp your feet as you felt your orgasm fade into nothing due to the lack of stimulation.
“Is my pet throwing a fit? Did you not already get enough attention?” Eris cooed, turning to watch you as Azriel kissed down his neck and palmed his cock until the High Lord was bucking into his hand. “Are you, ah, are you that needy?”
“Of course she is, look at her.” Azriel mocked, sucking a large hickey onto the column of his throat before he pushed him back roughly. Eris landed beside you, his hair splaying out beautifully as the Illyrian roughly picked you up and had you bending over the edge of the bed. “Suck his cock, mouse. Make him cry for you.”
You did not need to be told twice, your mouth hungrily kissing his inner thighs and trailing up to his dripping member. It was thick and long, the tip red and begging for you to pay it attention. He let out a small groan as you kissed and licked the head of him, swirling your tongue round and round before a sharp smack landed on your ass.
“I said to suck his cock not tease him, little whore.” Azriel ordered, letting another spank hit your clit this time which made you moan. You nodded, eyes focusing on Eris as you took him all the way to his pubic hair. It tickled your nose as you watched the redhead lurch forward, his hands immediately flying to your head to hold you still as he rutted upwards.
“Stars above, that feels amazing,” He moaned, looking over you to Azriel who was stroking himself to the sight. You began to choke and only then did he finally let you go, his thumb reaching out to wipe away the mascara that was now smeared under your eyes. “Again.”
He gave you no time to prepare as he roughly shoved himself down your throat once more, his mouth hanging open in ecstasy as you did your best to breathe through your nose. You cupped his balls in your hand, rolling them around, which only spurred Eris on further. 
“Who knew you were such a good cocksucker, Y/N?” Azriel chimed from behind you, stepping forward to rub his hard cock through your folds. Each time he bumped against your clit it made you lurch back, trying to get him to enter you. “Maybe that should be your new title, hm? Just for us.”
“Only for us.” Eris echoed. “Fuck I’m going to cum.”
“Paint her face. Mark her in your cum.” Azriel growled, savoring the way you were both lost in your own pleasure as Eris suddenly pulled out of your mouth to spurt onto your face. You closed your eyes and took it, loving the way they were being so filthy with you before you moaned when you felt Azriel enter you from behind. 
“So fucking tight,” He gritted out as he fucked you wildly like a beast taking his bitch. Your whole body was jerking forward and all you could do was look at Eris, your eyes heavy-lidded as he swiped some of his cum off your face and held it out for you to taste.
You sucked his finger in greedily, enjoying the salty taste of him as he smirked back at how corrupted you had become. However, as soon as Az hit that spot deep inside you, you let go of his digit to let out a loud, whorish groan. 
“Don’t stop, please don’t stop!” You cried out, looking back to watch him pound into you from behind. With every brush over that spot, you felt your orgasm building once more, your walls clenching tightly around him which made him hiss through his teeth.
“You wanna cum on his cock, pet? Do you deserve it?” Eris teased, placing two fingers under your chin to force you to look at him. “Do you think you deserve to cum on his cock?”
“Yes, mmm, I do,” You pant, moaning into his mouth when he kisses you sloppily. He tasted of warm spices and Azriel, the combination intoxicating as your tongues swirled together. It made your already wet cunt wetter. “I’ve been good.”
Azriel grabbed your hips harshly, making sure to leave bruises on them as he felt his orgasm racing up his spine. His balls started to tighten and he couldn’t stop himself even if he wanted as he spilled into you, your orgasm following swiftly behind as you came and came and came.
Your entire body shook with the force of it as you all but collapsed onto Eris’s thighs, your ass still up in the air as Azriel continued to thrust shallowly into you. He grinned as some of his cum leaked out the side of your union, watching it fall onto the bed. 
“You made such a mess, little mouse,” Azriel noted as he reluctantly pulled out, scooping his oozing cum and shoving it back inside your sensitive hole. You whined, trying to move away but Eris forced you to stay still as the Spymaster continued to toy with your sex. “And you came without permission.”
“I-what? But you-” You mumbled, lifting your head to turn and gaze at him. “Eris said…”
“I only asked the question, pet. I never permitted you.” He said sweetly, brushing the hair out of your eyes as you swallowed in fear. “You should know better.”
“It’s alright, prince.” Azriel smiled, flipping you over forcefully before appearing over you. “We have plenty of time to teach her how to behave.”
The last thing you saw was Azriel’s hazel eyes before his shadows circled your head, blinding you as Eris chuckled into the night air. You sucked in a breath when you felt those fiery bonds return once more, locking you to the bed as they both set to work on your punishment.
884 notes · View notes
redvexillum · 5 days ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
A/N: Listen, I heard the cries of my readers. So, here's some pure smut. Enjoy! Also, Kit, this one is dedicated to you - all your kinks wrapped up in fuzzy cuffs uwu. Save your lying protest for when I come back from my trip.
SUMMARY: Adam’s curiosity spiralled into obsession when he discovered Hell’s array of wicked toys and restraints. He’s been dying to share his sinful finds with you, but patience is a virtue—one he only half possesses. Your protests? Oh, those only make it sweeter as he binds you tight and indulges every sinful fantasy he’s been saving just for you.
TAGS/WARNINGS: f!reader, foxdicker is OTP, sex toys, p♡ssy pumping, dild♡ in a, p in v, bondage, aphrodisiac, pure smut, reader is a fox sinner
Tumblr media
The fuzzy cuffs encircling your wrists felt as though they were crafted from a Christmas wreath—soft, festive, and deceptively gentle against the raw edge of your predicament. They held you fast, tethered to the bedpost above, as your body arched against the relentless pull of gravity and desire. Tears streaked down your flushed cheeks, the sharp sting of them mirrored in the gasp that escaped your lips. Bare feet scrambled against the sheets for purchase, a futile effort thwarted by the cold, unyielding spacer bar forcing your thighs wide apart. 
“F-fuck you,” you rasped, voice trembling with defiance and need. Your head lolled back, surrendering momentarily to the sensations cascading through your body. The suction cup adhered tightly to your slick heat, a relentless device siphoning air and sending blood rushing to your swollen, hypersensitive folds. It was too much—too intense—as if every nerve ending in your core was alight, sparking with unbearable pleasure. 
Adam stood over you, a predator in his element, the cool glass dildo gleaming in his hand. He pressed the toy to the puckered ring of your ass, the contrast of its icy surface against your flushed skin stealing the air from your lungs. Slowly, agonizingly, he pushed it in, the stretch both unfamiliar and electrifying. Every thrust sent waves of sensation crashing through you, your body tightening and trembling in response. 
Your breath hitched as the suction on your lips and clit reached its crescendo. The tingling edge of numbness teetered dangerously close to pleasure so sharp it bordered on pain. You could feel it—your release coiling tighter in your core, threatening to burst free. 
Adam groaned low in his throat, his eyes fixed on you like a man possessed. His gaze roamed over your engorged folds, glistening and flushed, and his lips curled into a wicked grin. With a deliberate slowness, he detached the suction cup, and the sudden absence of pressure made you cry out. Your thighs instinctively fought to close, but the bar denied you even that reprieve, keeping you open and vulnerable. 
“Goddamn,” he muttered, his breath fanning over your sensitive skin, making you shudder violently. “Your cunt looks as juicy as that BLT sandwich I had the other day.” He chuckled darkly, the sound rolling over your quivering form. 
A broken whimper tore from your throat—a high-pitched, keening sound as unbearable sensitivity pulsed through you. Even the faintest touch of air over your trembling folds sent shockwaves straight to your core. Your ass clenched involuntarily around the unyielding glass, and you moaned as your inner walls fluttered, unsure if you were fighting or welcoming the intrusion. 
The pleasure was a tidal wave, dragging you under until the world dissolved into a high, tinny buzz. Your lungs fought for air, your vision blurred, and your lips parted in gasping cries. 
Every nerve seemed connected to the taut pull of the chain. Adam tugged, and the sharp bite of the clamps on your nipples sent a hot bolt of sensation shooting through your body. The exquisite mix of pain and pleasure ignited your senses, the ache blossoming and merging with the overwhelming pleasure surging through you. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” The words tumbled from your lips, raw and desperate, as your body betrayed you. Muscles tightened, walls pulsing rhythmically around the toy, the overwhelming storm of sensation tearing through your composure. Tears spilled freely as your orgasm consumed you, a violent and primal release that ripped a scream from your throat, leaving it raw and sore in its wake. 
Every nerve, every thought, every sensation burned with the force of it. And in its aftermath, you were left trembling and undone, a storm that had spent itself in the most devastating way. 
But the pleasure didn’t end—not even close. Adam’s lips descended upon your trembling heat, his tongue and mouth moving with a torturous expertise. His lips nibbled delicately on your swollen folds, each movement sending electric jolts straight to your core. The groans rumbling from his throat vibrated through your clit, the sensation so intense it made you buck against him involuntarily. 
“Noooo,” you whined, the word drawn out and quivering, torn between protest and surrender. Your hips jittered, trying desperately to escape the overwhelming sensation or at least dull it, but Adam was relentless. His nose nudged against your engorged clit with maddening precision, while his tongue delved deep inside you, curling, stroking, coaxing more pleasure from your already shattered nerves. 
And then he added the glass dildo back into the equation. Its cool, firm length plunged in and out of you, the contrast between its smoothness and the wet heat of your body almost too much to bear. Pressure built to an impossible height before bursting forth in a warm, gushing wave that left you shaking. 
The sensation of release was paradoxically another source of pleasure—liquid heat flowing freely from you only intensified the pulsing throbs that wracked your body. Your jaw fell slack, a soft whimper escaping as drool trickled down your chin. Your chest heaved as your body twitched uncontrollably, shocks of pleasure radiating outward in every direction, leaving you limp and trembling yet achingly needy. 
“Oh, fuck, babe,” Adam muttered, his voice rough with lust. He knelt above you, his cock swollen and flushed an angry red, a black ring wrapped tightly at its base to hold back his release. It stood proud and thick, almost hypnotizing in its intensity. 
Your tongue flicked out instinctively, your mouth watering at the thought of wrapping your lips around him, taking him deep until you gagged on his size. The thought alone sent a new wave of need coursing through you, pooling hot and heavy in your core. 
The bed was a disastrous landscape, strewn with toys and tools from the upturned box of delights. When Adam had said he wanted to give you the best Christmas ever, you hadn’t imagined this—but now you couldn’t imagine wanting anything else. 
Your cunt clenched and trembled, empty and aching, desperate for more. You didn’t care what—his cock, his fingers, anything to stretch you and fill the unbearable void. When Adam finally positioned himself, his cock pressing against your flushed, puffy lips, the heat of him seared your oversensitive skin, and you almost screamed. 
He moved slowly, tortuously, grinding his hips so the head of his cock brushed against your throbbing clit. You sobbed, your voice raw with need. “Fuck, Adam, fuck!” 
“What’s that?” he teased, his voice dripping with amusement. “You want more, babe?” His cock pulled away just enough to leave you gasping, the loss of contact a cruel torment. 
“Please,” you whimpered, need and lust pouring from every fibre of your being. Your mind was a haze, filled with nothing but the craving for him—his cock, his touch, the feeling of being utterly consumed. You wanted to be filled, stretched, claimed, fucked until nothing else existed but the pleasure that threatened to devour you whole. 
A soft sound reached your ears, metallic and familiar, and your breath hitched. The tin. You knew that balm. It was infamous in Hell—a devilish aphrodisiac that lit every nerve on fire, leaving its users delirious with uncontrollable lust. Mortals might have succumbed to its overwhelming effects, but here, where death wasn’t an option, the torment was addicting.
The memory of the last time Adam had used it with you flashed in your mind. A full-day lost in a haze of insatiable hunger, his cock inside you again and again, each thrust a new layer of torment and bliss. The thought alone made your thighs quake, your cunt fluttering with anticipation. 
Adam smirked, his eyes alight with wicked intent. “Ready to really lose your mind, sweetheart?” 
You were beyond ready. You were already his, body and soul, trembling and waiting to be taken to the edge of sanity and beyond. 
Adam pulled out a ribbed string of anal beads, each segment reminiscent of garish Christmas ornaments with its festive, bulbous design. The sight alone made your body tense in anticipation. He took his time, meticulously coating each bead with a thick layer of the slippery cream. The deliberate, methodical strokes of his hands sent shivers coursing through you, every movement a tease of what was to come. 
Your ass clenched involuntarily around the glass dildo still buried deep within you, the sensation heightened by the sticky warmth of your arousal as it slid from you, dripping onto the sheets. The air in the room was thick with heat and the heady scent of sex, and your mind spun as Adam’s sharp grin cut through the haze. That wicked expression promised nothing but pure, unrelenting pleasure. 
Your body thrummed with excitement, vibrating under his gaze like a live wire. Your eyes darted to the array of toys scattered around you, each one a thrilling possibility. Your tail twitched with restless anticipation, and your cunt fluttered, aching for more as a low, needy whimper slipped from your lips. 
With a sudden, fluid motion, Adam pulled the glass dildo from your body, eliciting a decadent, wanton moan that spilled from your throat before you could stop it. The absence was brief, but no reprieve followed. Instead, he pressed the first bulb of the anal beads against your entrance, the cool, rounded shape sliding in with agonizing slowness. The lube-coated beads stretched you deliciously, each one pressing against you in ways that left your toes curling. 
“Ah—hah!” Your moans filled the room, unabashed and raw, as your back arched off the bed. A fine sheen of sweat broke across your skin, trickling down your temple as the fiery effects of the aphrodisiac cream ignited every nerve. Heat coursed through you, burning and buzzing like an electric current. 
“I s-swear to fuck,” you cried, your voice breaking as he pushed another bead into you, “just fuck me already!” 
Adam chuckled darkly, his voice laced with amusement and desire. “Well, since you asked so nicely...” With a firm push, he buried the remaining beads inside, the firm intrusion pressing deliciously against your walls. You felt the fullness of them, unrelenting and perfect. “Fuck, this is gonna feel incredible,” he growled, his cock twitching against the restraint of the ring at its base. 
Reaching for the tin of cream, Adam scooped a generous glob and smeared it along the length of his cock, groaning as the intense heat of it spread through him. His hips jerked involuntarily, thrusting into the air as he hissed, “Shit, this stuff is no joke.” 
His gaze dropped to your trembling form, tied and exposed before him, and the corners of his lips curled into a smug, predatory smile. With the excess cream on his fingers, he reached down and began rubbing your swollen clit in slow, deliberate circles. The touch was pure fire, every nerve under his fingers alive with blistering pleasure. 
Goosebumps erupted across your skin, and your tail stiffened as your body seized under his touch. Your lips quivered, trying and failing to form words, while your screams caught in your throat, leaving you gasping and shaking. The swirling, maddening motion of his fingers sent shockwaves through you, reducing you to a trembling mess of drool and slick arousal. You writhed, tugging futilely against the fuzzy cuffs binding you to the bedpost, but there was no escape from the overwhelming onslaught. 
Your body coiled tighter and tighter until, with a loud, broken sob, you unravelled completely. Pleasure tore through you like a storm, leaving you clenching hard around the thick beads still inside you. The sensation amplified the ecstasy, and you could feel every tremor, every pulse of your body around them. 
Your gaze dropped hazily to your cunt—red, puffy, and trembling as the aftershocks of your orgasm refused to fade. The aphrodisiac prolonged every sensation, forcing you to ride out wave after relentless wave of pleasure. You cried out again as a fresh gush of arousal sprayed from you, soaking the bed and Adam’s thighs. Each involuntary clench only heightened the sensation, locking you in an endless cycle of bliss. 
“Fucking hell,” Adam murmured, his voice filled with awe as he watched you fall apart before him. 
Your mind floated in a sea of hedonistic abandon, your body shuddering and twitching uncontrollably. The intensity blurred the edges of your consciousness, leaving you teetering on the brink of delirium, lost in the pleasure that consumed you entirely. 
Before you could even catch your breath, you felt it—the stretch you had been aching for, the fullness that sent a lance of pleasure straight through you. Adam’s cock plunged into your slick heat, the glide easy from your arousal but no less breathtaking. A guttural groan tore from his lips, his body trembling as he gasped, “Fuck, I’m gonna fucking nut just from this. Fuck!” His voice was raw, his teeth gritted as he fought for control. 
“Y-you idiot,” you choked out, your voice breaking between moans. “Y-you used too m-much!” But even as you scolded him, your hips shifted, rolling against his cock to draw him deeper. The burn of need overwhelmed you, your sharp canines flashing as you growled through your haze of lust. “Untie me, baby,” you demanded, voice low and dangerous, “and I’ll fuck you so good.” 
Your thoughts were a blur, consumed by the all-encompassing desire to be filled, to chase the high of unrelenting pleasure. Adam hesitated only for a moment, his hands fumbling as he released the cuffs binding your wrists and tore away the spacer bar locking your legs apart. 
It was his undoing. 
Instantly, you had him on his back, his startled gasp turning into a guttural moan as you straddled him, pressing him into the mattress. Your palms braced against his stomach as you began to ride him with wild abandon. Each thrust of your hips sent the beads nestled in your ass slapping against his balls, the sharp rhythm driving you both closer to the edge. 
Your thighs burned, the muscles screaming in protest, but you didn’t care. The pain only heightened the pleasure, and each bounce brought your sensitive pussy slamming down onto his cock, forcing it deeper. The chains weighing on your nipples swayed and slapped against your chest, their sting igniting sparks of ecstasy that shot straight to your core. 
Adam’s head fell back, his eyes squeezing shut as he moaned uncontrollably, his hands clutching the sheets beneath him. “Fuck, babe, I can’t—I’m gonna come if you don’t slow down!” His voice cracked, desperate, but you were relentless. 
One, two, three more thrusts, and his cock jerked inside you, the first hot spurt of his release sending you over the edge. “Oh, fuck yes!” you screamed, your walls clenching tightly around him, milking every drop of his climax as you rode out your own. The pleasure was explosive, blinding, and yet your hips refused to stop. 
Adam’s body writhed beneath you, his face contorted with overstimulation as his cock twitched, still buried inside your pulsating heat. His fingers dug into the sheets, his body trembling as he tried to endure the intensity. Even as his cock began to soften, you kept moving, pushing yourself deeper into the haze of pleasure. 
Finally, his cock slipped free, and a warm gush of his seed dripped from you, drenching his inner thighs before dripping on to the sheets. But you weren’t done. Your eyes darted to the array of toys scattered around you, landing on a thick, girthy dildo. Without hesitation, you grabbed it and shoved it into his hand. 
“Don’t stop,” you demanded, straddling his chest and bending forward, your ass presented to him. “Fuck me,” you ordered, your voice a growl as you wiggled your hips. 
Adam groaned but obeyed, gripping the toy tightly as he plunged it into your dripping cunt. Your back arched, a loud, unrestrained moan tearing from your throat as your tongue lolled out, saliva dripping from your lips. Leaning forward, you captured his spent cock in your mouth, licking and sucking him clean, your hunger for him insatiable. 
Time blurred, lost in the unrelenting haze of heat and pleasure. You couldn’t keep track of how many times he came or how many times you screamed his name. The room was filled with the sounds of your bodies colliding, moans, gasps, and the slick, filthy evidence of your shared debauchery. 
When it was over, you lay tangled together, your bodies covered in sweat, fluids, and the unmistakable marks of your animalistic passion. The sheets were soaked, the air heavy with the scent of sex, and yet neither of you moved, content to exist in the aftermath of your primal indulgence. 
When morning finally came, it hit you like a freight train. Your body ached in places you didn’t even know could ache, muscles seizing painfully as you groaned and rolled onto your side. Your head throbbed with the unmistakable weight of a pleasure-induced hangover.
Blinking groggily, your gaze shifted across the room to find Adam sprawled naked on the floor, limbs splayed haphazardly. His cock was still adorned with the cock ring from last night, and you choked on a surprised laugh when your eyes caught the sight of nipple clamps dangling from his chest. At some point, you’d clearly decided to get a little mischievous in your haze of passion. 
“Babe,” you croaked, your voice rough and raw from all the screaming. You winced at the sound, clearing your throat before continuing, “Maybe next time, we just go for a Christmas lunch down at that café?” 
Adam stirred, groaning as he rubbed at his temples. His eyes cracked open, bleary and bloodshot, and he let out a pitiful moan. “Fuck, I’m starving,” he muttered, his voice as ragged as yours, his lips quirking in the faintest grin. 
Despite the sheer chaos of the night before, warmth bloomed in your chest. Your body still buzzed, a delicious ache lingering from every pleasurable moment. For the first time, you truly allowed yourself to reflect—not just on what you’d done, but what it meant. Your eyes dropped to your wrists, where faint marks from the fuzzy cuffs remained, and you turned your hands over, studying them. Not once had you felt fear, not even a flicker of trepidation. 
It hit you then, with the clarity of a sunrise cutting through a foggy morning: you had willingly given Adam your trust. You’d handed over the reins, allowed him to lead you into something so intimate, so vulnerable. And he’d held that trust gently, never crossing the invisible boundaries you hadn’t needed to verbalize. 
Your chest tightened as you thought about your past. In Hell, intimacy was often just another commodity, a currency to buy power or survival. Friends you’d known had been trapped in the sex trade, their autonomy stripped, their bodies used as bargaining chips for shady deals. You’d grown up running, learning to stay two steps ahead, your sly instincts your only defence against a world eager to pull you under. Trust was a luxury you couldn’t afford—until now. 
You blinked, your lips quirking into a small, almost incredulous smile. Adam had somehow slipped past every wall, and you hadn’t even realized it. You didn’t think twice about letting him in. 
Adam groaned again, dragging himself up from the floor with the grace of a wounded animal. Half-asleep, he crawled onto the bed, collapsing beside you with a contented sigh. His arms snaked around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest. 
“Hey,” you protested weakly, though you couldn’t hide the fondness in your tone. “We should at least shower. We’re disgusting.” 
“Five more minutes,” he mumbled, burying his face in your hair, his voice thick with sleep. 
You rolled your eyes, but your smile lingered. Past you would’ve scoffed at the idea of letting anyone in this close, let alone into your bed and heart. She might’ve been disappointed or maybe even angry that you’d let yourself become vulnerable, weak. 
But as Adam’s steady breaths warmed the back of your neck, his presence grounding you in a way you hadn’t thought possible, you realized something. Maybe you didn’t need her approval. Maybe it was enough to live in this moment, to feel the heat of his body and the comfort of his arms. 
Closing your eyes, you let the thought drift away, the ache in your muscles fading into the background as sleep crept over you again. For now, you let yourself be at peace, safe in the embrace of someone who made you feel like trust wasn’t a gamble, but a gift worth giving.
Tumblr media
Please follow #DRP Smutmas 2024 to get all the latest updates of our stories!
Wanna hang out with me? Come talk to me at Voxtek Server!
61 notes · View notes
sweet-s0rr0w · 19 days ago
Text
Tumblr media
day 7 of @hprecfest - the best of your OTP
What We Pretend We Can't See, by gyzym - M, 131k, 2017
Summary: Seven years out from the war, Harry learns the hard truth of old history: it’s never quite as far behind you as you thought.
Excerpt:
“It’s only,” Ron says, and takes a long swig of his wine, clearly to brace himself. “You — well. You know how you can get, Harry. About Malfoy.”
“What?” Harry says, staring at both of them. “Sorry, what ? No, I don’t know how I can get about Malfoy, what are you even talking about?”
“Oh, Harry,” says Hermione, sounding very pitying.
“Mate,” Ron says, in the same tone. “C’mon. This is a safe space.”
“Also, we were there,” adds Hermione, with a heavy sigh. “Remember in sixth year? When you were so obsessed with him that we weren’t allowed to talk about anything else?”
“He was doing evil,” Harry protests, outraged. “And I was doing my best to thwart evil! That’s not obsessive, that’s — that’s — civic-minded!”
“Civic-minded, was it, to sit up all night watching his name move around the Slytherin common room on the Marauder’s Map?” Ron does not sound convinced. Also, he sounds like maybe he thinks Harry has suffered some sort of traumatic brain injury in the last ten minutes; it’s not a combination Harry enjoys. “I swear, one night we were down in the common room and I said, ‘You coming to bed, Harry?’ and you said — ”
“Oh god, I remember this,” Hermione interrupts, and groans. “You said ‘I won’t rest until Malfoy does!’ Then you threw a paperweight at the wall, and it exploded.”
“I loved that paperweight,” Ron says mournfully. “It died too young.”
&
Modern Love, by @tackytigerfic - E, 61k, 2020
Summary: Harry Potter, of all people, knows that life isn’t always fair. And no one gets to be happy all of the time. But surely there’s something more—something better—than a rubbish Ministry job, and a lonely old house, and that feeling that everyone out there is doing a better job of living than Harry is.
And it really doesn’t seem fair that Draco Malfoy is back in Harry’s life, all of a sudden, and even though he’s wandless, and living with Muggles, and making his mother cry with his lifestyle choices, he’s happy. So what's he doing right, that Harry isn’t?
Because things don’t really change, do they? And if Harry can’t be happy, he’ll settle for a good night’s sleep, some posh antiques, and the opportunity to find out what Malfoy has been up to for all these years.
And that’s what starts it all.
Excerpt:
"This is exactly what I'm talking about, Potter. You think I'm happy without magic. I'm happy despite not having magic, you twat. Sometimes it itches under my skin until I think I'm going to go mad. And you show up like this—" he gestures wildly at Harry's Wizengamot robes "—and you Apparated here, didn't you? I could smell it off you when I opened the door, Potter." He sways closer to Harry, and he looks angry again all of a sudden. "You reek of magic, Potter, and you don't even know it. And it's so hard sometimes, being around that. It's just as well you didn't take me up on the offer of a fuck, I suppose. I’d probably have been able to feel your magic when you were inside me. Pretty hard to go back from that."
Harry, having never been in love properly, wonders if this is what it’s always like—feeling simultaneously pissed off and turned on and, through it all, endlessly fond—but suspects it might be just down to it being him, and Draco, and how they are together.
There are loads of fics I could have picked for this prompt. I considered Heal Thyself by astolat, and of That Old Black Magic, by bixgirl, for example, which are both all-time favourites of mine. I've been trying to rec less popular fics, because to me that's part of the fun and the challenge of recfest, and because I think we're so blessed to be in a fandom with such a wealth of talent going back twenty-odd years. But these fics were the very first two to pop into my mind when I heard the prompt, and I kept on coming back to them both, and it feels only right to rec them - and to rec them together - because I do see them both as the very best of Drarry. Both authors' words feel so truly full of love for the characters, and the world, and the ship, and both authors write Draco and Harry so convincingly and unequivocally as two parts of a whole. WWPWCS, of course, so witty and clever, has the amazing scene above so early on, where Harry's just appalled to learn that anyone might have thought he was at any stage obsessed with Draco Malfoy - and then he proceeds to demonstrate how completely and utterly obsessed he is with Draco Malfoy throughout the entirety of the fic. And then there's ML, such a brilliant, complex, emotional piece, with its Harry who begins to find unexpected joy in the little things as he spends more and more time around this fascinating, self-sufficient Draco. Of course, both fics then have their own excellent OH FUCK moment, the moment the dam bursts and Harry realises what we've known for ages - that he's so completely in love with Draco that there's no way back, and what the hell's he going to do about it now?
Neither fic's a quick read, but both are spectacularly written, with such delicious denouements that they are SO COMPLETELY WORTH IT, and if you're getting to read either of them for the first time - god, I envy you!
If you read them, and if especially you love them, please do let me know! And as always, please do take the time to leave the author a kudos/comment <3
day 1 - first fic you remember reading
day 2 - a fic rated G
day 3 - a fic not on ao3
day 4 - a comfort fic
day 5 - a romantic fic
day 6 - a fic for a ship you don’t normally read
50 notes · View notes
bettysupremacy · 1 year ago
Note
I’m in love with your version of peter already!!!
I would love if you could write maybe r hurting her knees and him kneeling to patch her up. maybe r not having the best experience with people touching her but trusting him:))
I hope you are having a good day/week/month!! and absolutely no pressure to write this
I was literally otp with @formulafics when I found this in my inbox and so excited. So cute!! Thank you for the request!
“It hurts.” You whimper pathetically. Peter watches the way you flinch at his fingers sorrowful.
You sit on the bathroom counter of his small apartment, scraped and bruised from a fall outside the spinning doors. You hadn’t seen the skateboard swish past you, and the owner hadn’t turned his head to check if you were okay. His doorman helped you up, embarrassingly, but Peter seemed to have been down the stairs before you could step off the lobby rug. He leans over you know, hands on the counter, head down inspecting the bloody skin.
“Can I touch it?” He murmurs, looking up at you. You stare at him. “I just want to help.”
Your eyes are puffy, a sight from crying, and your nose aches from the way you rub it. You’re sure it’s not the prettiest sight he’s ever seen, and a small rumble of embarrassment vibrates in your belly. You nod anyways.
“Are you sure?” He pushes. You know he wants verbal consent.
“Uh uh.” You frown, tapping your fingers against your knee. “You can.”
“Ok.”
He bends down onto his knees, eye level with the aching scrapes you adorn. Peter sucks his teeth sharply. “This look like it hurts.”
“It does.” You whisper, and Peter feels stupid for the basic observation.
“Can I clean it?” He looks up at you. “It might sting a little.” He’s honest with you. “But it’ll make them feel better.”
You nod, suddenly embarrassed for the show of emotions, feeling little under his stare like a hurt child.
“I’m not trying to embarrass you.” He frowns, like he can read your mind. Suddenly, he laughs like he knows he’s startled you, groaning as he pushes to stand again.
Peter’s got problems with his knees, they ache and creek like an old man’s, but you don’t know what’s could’ve caused that so early in the boys life. They pop as he fully straightens them and he smiles at you, laughing a quiet “Felt good.”
You swallow a smile at his goofy expression.
“Yeah, you can clean them.” You reiterate out loud.
“Perfect.” He beams at you, dancing out the bathroom to earn your smile. He yells from the other room. “Doctor Parker’s over here!”
You wipe your nose quickly before he shows back up. “You didn’t go to med school!”
You hear his disgruntled scoff from the hallway.
Popping back in the bathroom he delights in your laugh. He pulls his hand from his back like a magician, letting tissue float down over his fingers. “A tissue for the lady.”
“Thank you.” Your small laugh is watery as you take the tissue, dabbing your wet cheeks.
“Don’t mention it.” He quips, dropping back down onto his knees to inspect your knees.
“You can’t keep putting so much pressure on your knees like that.” You murmur.
“I always bounce back.” He smiles. “Let’s see” He glances up at you. “Can I?”
You nod, letting him take the back of your knee into his warm hand. The antiseptic burns, something Peter is very apologetic for, and the bandaid tingles, but you’re happy with the light touches Peter graces your leg.
“All done.” He jumps up, using the hands you give him as leverage. “All better?”
“All better.”
“Are you sure?” He drawls with a smile shining towards you. His fingers wiggle towards your stomach teasingly. “Don't lie to me, baby.”
“I’m not.” You giggle, shoving your fingers in his.
“Okay.” He grins. “You better not be fibbing.”
You laugh out loudly. “I’m not.”
“I’m not.” He mimics, pushing away the hands that his him to kiss your lips. His hands work their way down to hold your waist, bracing you to jump off the counter. “Ready for blastoff?”
Your hands cup over his. “Shut up.”
380 notes · View notes
poetfades2black · 11 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
2 notes · View notes
multiverse--wanderer · 1 month ago
Text
The Hatred Of Love | Ghost x König (Call of Duty) [ENG]
Tumblr media
[One Shot based on the OTP between Ghost and König (Call Of Duty) WARNING: This One Shot contains explicit narratives of intimate relationships.Did you like this One Shot? Remember you can read more like it on my Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/MultiverseWanderer In a lonely apartment, two souls meet again under the promise to never do it again. Will they find redemption in each other's arms or will they succumb to the destructive power of their own desire? They will discover that some temptations are too strong to resist and that the path to the deepest pleasure can also be the most dangerous.* Cover image credits to the author.
...
REMINDER:
This story has been written in Spanish, which is my native language. This story has been translated to the best of my ability, although it is possible that it may have mistakes.
This is just a way to transport my writing to a common language for the rest of fans like me. For a better immersion, I recommend reading the story in its original version.
You can find this story on Wattpad and Archive of Our Own.
Thank you so much for reading me and see you in the stars.
...
-'ღ'-
There's no way to get him out of my mind.
There's no way I can find him in another mouth, in other hips.
The situation is becoming the most frustrating, the most ridiculous thing that has happened to me in my fucking life. Driven by the need to turn off my mind for a while and lose myself in a torrid encounter, I have fallen so low that I no longer find pleasure in a body other than his.
With my pants too tight and overly snug, I headed out into the street, back to my rented apartment in the center. Each step is a struggle against the clinging fabric that seems to want to keep me anchored in the memory of what just happened, still throbbing. The night is dark and heavy, and the rain begins to fall; its cold and persistent drops are the only thing that manages to bring me to my senses for a few seconds, allowing me to think clearly about this whole situation.
As I walk, the water soaks my clothes, sticking them to my skin and cooling the burning I still feel in my body. The city is almost deserted at this hour, and the sound of my footsteps echoes through the empty streets, mingling with the constant rustle of the rain. Every drop that hits my face is a reminder of reality, a call to sanity that seems to fade away as soon as it arises. Meanwhile, I make my way through the wet streets, and my mind returns again and again to his face, to the way his eyes looked at me with a mixture of triumph and desire, to how his mouth, that damned temptation, moved over me with devastating precision.
But Alexander wasn't the protagonist that night, Gérard was.
Deciding to go with that beautiful blue-eyed Frenchman I met at the bar was a terrible decision. The twenty-seven-year-old works as secretary to the Minister of Defense and still knows how to add two plus two. My idea had been to have a few glasses of strong alcohol at the bar at the base and calm the need that had been running through my soul for several days now. For a few moments at first, it seemed to work until the double-edged sword of alcohol attacked me from behind worse than I could have ever imagined.
Gérard had noticed my figure long before I had noticed his. He was the one who approached when the bar was closing and invited me for one last drink. I looked at him, contemplated his erotic half-smile, his defined eyes, and saw his intentions as clear as the dawn. He seemed to see the same thing in my eyes, because he decided to stay, not knowing how dangerous this erotic game with me was.
He tried to find out about me but got nothing. I lied on my behalf, I lied in my job, and I lied in my situation. He, however, told me everything about his life in an attempt to get me to reveal something more.
From one drink, we went on to two more. When the curly blonde got tired of waiting, I could feel his hand sliding in a private caress down my thigh in a clear invitation. I took air through my nose for just a few seconds and slowly released it in the same place. It would have been so easy to pull her hand away and say no to her charms (which I had in abundance), but I decided to jump into the hoops. I decided it was the best thing to do to prove to myself that I wasn't in need of a single man with a first and last name.
"Let's go to my hotel room." He was continually whispering in my ear.
Under the need that my body needed and under the provocations of the pure French worker, I decided to accept.
He kissed and moved well, he knew how to unfold his eroticism in every honeyed word he uttered. He managed to make me believe, on more than one occasion, that perhaps I could reach that long-awaited orgasm with him. He liked rough sex and only asked for more in response to the grips that my firm hands were subjecting to him. I could see his eyes, half-closed and moist with pleasure, flash in a bright blue that he didn't recognize. I searched his orbs for Alexander's tired eyes without realizing it, and it was only when I couldn't find his deep, murky seas did I realize that I couldn't find any kind of excitement in Gérard's.
It was a desperate attempt to fill a void, a pale reflection of what I really wanted.
I turned him around, put him on his back, and he clung to the pillow. He moaned so loudly against it that it reverberated in the hotel room. I saw his body, thin and sculpted in marble-like perfection, which gave me a strange feeling of nausea.
Not because of him, but because of myself.
Every movement felt empty, every moan, a mockery of what had once been a dance of true passion. Gérard's perfection only highlighted the imperfection of what he felt at the time. I missed the warmth, the intensity, the electricity that went through me every time Alexander touched me.
Underneath makeup that concealed my own scars and tattoos so as not to be recognized by anyone, were hidden wars that only one man had licked with desire and tinges of love. My whole world started to fall apart and despite the frustration and drive to keep going, I couldn't do it. I wasn't getting anywhere, and to the shore I was approaching, I refused to anchor myself.
Gérard had already reached orgasm several times. When he reached his third, as scandalous as it was appetizing, I pulled out and moved with disgust in search of my clothes. He turned to look at me and from his trembling voice came a "are you leaving?" that pleaded for more. I didn't answer, it was a question that didn't need an answer.
And now I find myself wandering the sidewalk in the rain, on my way to the sober apartment I had rented for the duration of the mission. I found myself cursing myself for being such an idiot once again. He'd had too many sporadic relationships to know how it worked. The reason I did it was to find an oasis pleasure amidst so much chaos and pain, and lately my only livelihood of feeling something was fading away like sand under salt water.
It's all his fault. Because of him.
When I got inside the apartment, I didn't even turn on the lights. I let the gloom from the window of the high-rise building where the apartment was located decorate the interior with dark and subtle tones. I moved straight to the luxurious bathroom and only turned on one of its many lights.
Over the sink, I took off my soaked dark T-shirt and proceeded to remove all the makeup I had on my torso. I peeled off the thin prosthetics that concealed the larger scars and removed all the makeup that covered the more specific or recognizable marks, like the tattoo on my arm. I left the faucet running and allowed the warm water to do the rest as I rubbed with my hand, unconsciously trying to remove all the remnants of that night and what I had become.
The brown dye I had put in my hair fell in small, weak drops down my neck, washing away its false color to reveal the blonde that defined my appearance. I wiped away the remnants that the rainwater hadn't managed to remove with a towel and threw everything into the laundry basket.
The phone resting on the counter beside the sink I was now cleaning with my hands vibrated, and its screen lit up. An incoming message appeared on the screen, and as if the bastard had known how to read my mind, he wrote to me.
"König: I miss you."
A measly message that managed to completely destroy me. All the barriers I was trying to build, all the distances... Such an everyday message from him and yet the one I needed least at this moment.
I clenched my fists against the marble sink and cursed his figure over and over again. I cursed him, knowing that it wasn't unusual to receive such messages from him, that I was the one who always ignored his private messages, and yet now I needed anything but that.
He no longer wrote me "I need you," which indicated unbridled sex driven by his explicit need. Now he wrote "I miss you." What the hell did that mean? I knew the answer firsthand; I just needed to look at my current situation, I just needed to look in the damn mirror.
Not being able to have a casual relationship with anyone because no one can meet my standards like he does. Looking for him in other lips and finding nothing but sand under my tongue. Everything escalated far beyond a simple "I need you." It escalated to the point where I missed him, missed him so much that any ghost pretending to be him was just a blurred shadow.
And I hated it. I hated him so much for it.
The cumulative anger of the night escalated with every thought, and he was responsible. He was the reason I felt my blood boil with rage. I can't understand why everything is so different with him, why I can't settle for other relationships, and why that damn six-foot-nine kid can't stop drilling into my head for a single second.
It had been more than a month and a half since we had seen each other outside of work. The closer I got to him, the more uphill it became. He sought my gaze like a puppy seeks its owner. He sought crumbs of attention like a hungry dog and received nothing but indifference from me.
Why is he still here?
I picked up the phone and opened his message. I saw all the messages I had from him with no response, and I almost felt guilty. Then I remembered the reason I walked away from him, and I knew it was to spare him all the suffering I was causing him.
He couldn't find happiness by my side because I could only give him pain, and that's the last thing he deserves.
He, who despite everything being darkness in his world, lets all the light that continues to shine within him show when he's with me.
"Ghost: Come to my apartment now."
...
CONTINUE READING THE FULL CHAPTER HERE:
23 notes · View notes