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deathbxnny · 2 months ago

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Maybe a part 2 of the arcane characters saying things they regret, but they're apologizing because I can't live after reading a angst 🫠

Making up with Arcane characters after a bad argument. | Vi, Caitlyn, Jinx, Ekko, Sevika x Gn!Reader

(Previous part)

Fine, fine, here is a happy part two guys. Take it as an apology for the tears and pain I've caused.✨️

Content: Swearing, accusations of cheating, slight angst, making up, fluff, potential spoilers for season 2, established romantic relationships, sfw

Reader has no set pronouns!

((Not proofread))

》VI

She knew that she had fucked up. There was no way to deny or refute it either. And your absence was further proof of that.

You were always there for her, even when things got bad and she became even worse. No matter how much she yelled or drank, you were there afterward to nurture her back to health. It was so unfair of her to expect it still, after all she had said to you. She hated herself. She hated how weak and pathetic she had become. How she can't even stand straight anymore from the alcohol and couldn't win a single game since she had lost you.

And instead of Caitlyn haunting her like she used to, it was only you now. But you were crying every time. Asking her why she hated you so much. Why she couldn't care for you the way you cared for her. Why you were always the second choice despite having been there since the start.

Why, why, why.

Gritting her teeth against the headache, she made her way through the dark, familiar lanes to your small home that you once shared together. She had to talk to you. She really, really had to. Even if it's far too late now after a week of silence in-between the two of you. She had taken the time to reflect and think about everything, especially about your relationship. And it made her realise that nothing in this world was losing you too.

Knocking on your door, she nervously waited as she heard your footsteps quickly approaching her from inside. You opened the door carefully, ironically just how she had taught you, before freezing at the sight of her. She gave you a weak smile, attempting to look calm and friendly, but it still scared you off. "Hey cupca-" You tried slamming the door into her face mid greeting, but her foot was faster to jam itself in the way.

"H-Hey! Wait, please hear me out!" "Fuck off, Vi. I'm not in the mood to hear more of your bullshit. Go back to Caitlyn since I know how badly you want that!" You never cursed, and every word you spoke made her flinch. She, for some reason, didn't expect you to be this mad. But it hurt, and she deserved it. Another thing she underestimated was, unfortunately, your strength since you somehow managed to push her away and shut the door again. "Come on! Please! I... I didn't mean what I said. I just... have been losing my shit ever since what happened. The guilt is killing me, and I know it's not an excuse! You're right, I have to stop this shit! You're right, I need to stop treating your love for granted!"

She didn't know if you were even listening to her anymore, but it didn't stop the tears that burned in her eyes. "I don't give a damn about Caitlyn like that! I never did! It always you for me. You... you cared for me when no one else ever wanted to, and I was such an idiot for not appreciating it more." Her hand slammed against the wood in defeat, her head coming to rest against it as her body trembled. She was so scared of losing you. This can't be the end. "Please. Please just give me another chance to prove myself. I know I'm a fuck up but I swear I'll do better now."

Vi nearly fell right through your house entrance when you opened the door wide with a teary huff. "God, you're such an idiot... get in already before the neighbors complain." You didn't let her reply as you simply dragged her inside and locked the door again. The pitfighter watched you do so with a gentle gaze, one that felt so familiar to you. "... Fine, I'll give you another chance... but no drinking or fighting anymore. Please." You whisper to her, and she nods quickly before engulfing you in a warm hug.

She knows that she isn't fully forgiven yet, but she'll do everything in her power to prove herself worthy of your love again.

》CAITLYN

"You're still up." Caitlyn's voice was calm and gentle now, so different from the stern and cold tone it had before. You ignored her, however, knowing better than to fall for this again. She always got like this when she knew she had screwed up and was trying to crawl back into your good graces. But this time around, you didn't allow it that easily. You refused to speak to her if she hadn't come back to apologize. And yet... you couldn't help but allow yourself at least one sharp dig at her. "And you're late to bed once again. But I suppose Officer Nolan's 'report' was just that interesting, no?" You were perhaps the only person in all auf Pultover that could ever accuse her of something so scandalous as adultery and get away with it.

It certainly would have been amusing if Caitlyn didn't feel so sick at the thought of you believing that.

Sighing, she placed her hat onto a clothing hanger, her jacket following suit. You were facing away from her on the bed, trying to read a book and rest, despite the pain in your heart. It was hard being angry at her when you loved her so deeply. But her insults had struck much deeper than that.

The bed dipped behind you, and soon enough, you felt her strong arms surrounding your body and her nose tickling your cheek. "I'm sorry, my love. I really am. I... have lost my cool, and that was wrong of me." You scoffed at her words, finding them too shallow for the pain she had caused earlier. Yet you struggled to get out of her strong grasp on you. It felt desperate. And you hated the warmth and security that it made you feel. "If that is all you have to say, then you can leave." You hissed out weakly but couldn't find any malice in it. Just heartbreak, that solidified in more tears burning in your eyes. "Because how... how could you ever say that I could betray you? Do you know how that makes me feel? Do you care?"

Caitlyn hummed against the nape of your neck soothingly, a way to acknowledge the plight she had caused you without revealing her own tears. The grief had made her into a monster. A monster that hurt its friends, family, and most importantly, you. It was unforgivable, and yet she wanted to prove herself worthy of you anyway. She wanted to show you that she hadn't changed deep down like everyone claimed. She was still yours.

"... I will find a way to end this war and resolve it peacefully as soon as I can. I swear it to you." She began, her voice low and gentle, as she listened to the sound of your hiccups and sniffling. This wasn't what she wanted. "And I apologize, truly, for what I called you... I know that you are loyal and trustworthy. Much more than I ever could be... I'm still your Caitlyn." The last part was whispered quietly, as she tried everyone in her power to not break down in front of you like this.

She hated what she had become deep down. She knew it was wrong and that her mother must've been turning in her grave at the sight of what she had done. But what she couldn't handle at all was you hating and leaving her.

There was a moment of silence before you turned to face her and immideatly hugged her impossibly close as you cried into her arms. She rubbed your back lovingly, understanding that this was your way of accepting her apology. But forgiveness will still be a long journey she was willing to take.

For now, she'd rest in your embrace thankfully.

》JINX

Deep down, you knew that she didn't mean what she said. She never would do anything to hurt you. Silco's death was just killing her more than anyone could have expected, and it was hard for everyone to deal with. But you just couldn't take the pain and hurt she caused you anymore. You've been there since day one. You were always at her side. You always took care of her when no one else wanted to. And you understood her better than she did herself. But it was ultimately just not enough. Or so you thought.

The young girl that was now dragging you through the lanes reminded you of her too. She didn't speak a word to you, and for some reason, you didn't have it in you to protest against her odd actions either. She somehow seemed to recognize you the second you bumped into her. And that was enough for her to take your hand and lead you to a very familiar hideout. Perhaps it was fate that brought you here again when you needed Jinx the most.

"Hey kid, who's our little guest-?" The rest of the young woman's words died on her tongue, and it left you simply staring at each other. There was a familiar haze in her eyes, one that you often saw when the voices were taking over. She once mentioned that you sometimes became a part of her hallucinations during longer absences, and that reminder alone made your heart ache. You shouldn't have run away that day. But what other choice did you have? She didn't trust you anymore. She didn't think you should be together anymore. Why were you even here?

"S-sorry... I'm just going to leave..." You muttered as your ears rung and that familiar burning in your eyes made your sight blurry. You felt suffocated and somehow also angry, wishing she could just see how much you loved and cared for her. But just as you were turning away to run again, her strong hand was quicker and held you back by your arm. "Wait. Let's just... talk, alright? Like we always do?" That was your thing. Whenever things got bad, you'd sit down and talk calmly to her about it. She used to scoff at it every time... yet she was the one who suggested now for once. Something about it shook you so hard that it made the first tears finally spill at the recognition she had given you for all the work you've put into her.

Jinx panicked a little at that, unsure of how to comfort you, yet at Isha's stern frown and cross of her small arms, she just hugged you for the first time in a while. And god, did she miss it.

Perhaps it was good to show the little girl a picture of you after all.

"I'm sorry. I'm really sorry, I swear, sweetie! I... I won't ever say stuff like that again. Just don't leave me. Please don't leave me. I just, I was just-" You hushed her by just hugging her tighter and shaking your head. "It's okay... just hold me for a while. We can talk later... I missed you so much." You whispered, voice breaking into sobs. Jinx hummed weakly and sighed against your hair, the familiar scent making her relax and feel better at last.

Isha grinned to herself behind you before quickly sneaking off to let you talk things out.

》EKKO

To say that the entire firelight hideout was pissed at him would be an understatement. Absolutely everyone disagreed with the way he treated you, and the side eyes he got very much confirmed this. But the worst part of it all was definitely you avoiding him like the plague.

Every time he entered a room, you were the first one to leave in a hurry. Every time he tried speaking to you, you either ignored him or found an excuse to get away. Every time someone even mentioned his name to you, your mood seemed to dampen. And that hurt so much that it killed him. This isn't how he wanted you to feel about him. He was your boyfriend, damnit it. Yet he acknowledged that he was failing at his job way more than he should've allowed himself to. He had to fix this somehow.

Ekko couldn't just lose you over his own foolishness. You were the one person who motivated him to keep going even on his worst days. You were the light he fought for. The person he battled to come home to every day. He couldn't handle your absence any longer, especially at night when he laid wide awake in your empty bed without you.

And so, he finally had enough and cornered you one night up in the tree during a patrol you had together. One, he definitely didn't pull the strings for to happen. And ever the one to abide by his orders despite your current dismay, you were now avoiding his gaze whilst you watched your sleeping home below. It was peaceful and calm, but the pain lingered between you two too much to enjoy the moment. He didn't know how to break the deafening silence, and it made him think of backing out on his initial plan... until you surprised him by speaking up first.

"I'm... sorry for avoiding you. I didn't mean for this to become your last resort. I just... didn't want to be a burden anymore." "Wait, wait, wait... who said that you were a burden, I... I should be the one apologizing right now. Because I was wrong about every fucking thing I said to you." The words spilled out in panic at the mere thought of you blaming yourself. He never wanted you to feel like this. It made him feel even worse about himself. This wasn't right. "You're not useless. You do so much for us, for me, and I take it all for granted like the asshole I am! And I fully acknowledge that now... I shouldn't have snapped at you like that. There is no excuse for it." He shook his head in disappointment at himself, wondering if this was it now. He'd understand if you broke up with him now... but instead, you seemed to be in the mood to surprise him alot today.

"Did you... like the food I made you?" He blinked at your question in confusion, yet answered honestly. "Best thing I had all week." "Then I guess I'll forgive you... just don't do that again." Ekko chuckled weakly at your words, relief filling his senses whilst he pulled you close to press a kiss to your head. "Would never dream of it... wanna ditch patrol and fly around town?" You mirrored his sly smile, glad he had the same thing on his mind as you did. "Sure thing. But let's make it a race."

He let you win.

》SEVIKA

She took some time to cool off after your argument and returned later into the night with a clearer mind. Sevika had actually reflected on what you had said to her, and she knew you were ultimately right. She was extremely overprotective and stubborn, two things that didn't mesh well and often ended in her thinking you couldn't take care of yourself. Even if she knew better than to actually believe that.

You were strong, especially mentally. It's what drew her into you to begin with. But with the fall of Silco and a war being on the verge of breaking out against Piltover, she had no choice but to make sure that you never left her sight. And if you did, then you had to be somewhere she knew was safe and away from all the chaos she dealt with daily. It helped her focus and stay calm to know that you're okay. Yet despite how much she cared, she still fucked it all up for herself again.

And now she had to fix it, something she was never good at.

She felt awfully guilty at the sight of the things you've lovingly prepared for her, now laying forgotten and cold on the kitchen counter. She truly didn't deserve someone as kind as you. And yet she considered herself too selfish to let you go.

Slowly approaching the bedroom door, she paused to hear if you were awake or not. Unfortunately, you were, but she only knew this from the faintest sound of your sniffling and sobbing that drifted through the wooden door. Sighing to herself, she knocked once, deciding to just rake things slow and as calmly as possible. You had sustained an injury after all, and her mind was reeling at the thought of it getting worse without any proper care. "What do you want?!" Your weak voice yelled at her, and it made her frown. Yeah, you were definitely beyond pissed.

"I want to talk." Her gruff voice said, and it may have sounded like a demand if the underlying care and worry didn't overshadow it so clearly. Your silence made her initially think you were ignoring her until the door slowly opened and revealed your disheveled form. "... well, go ahead." You muttered, one hand cradling the side of your hip that was clumsily bandaged up by you. You were never good at stuff like that.

"Let me take care of the wound whilst we're at it. Can't have ya dying on me because of an infection." She sighed out before simply dragging you to your shared bed and pulling out your medkit. You didn't protest or complain and let her do as she pleased, whilst you carefully listened to her speak with an unreadable expression.

"Listen. I... get it. I really do. The way I treat you isn't right, and I know you're grown enough to take care of yourself, but... I can't risk losing you too now. It drives me crazy to think about. Even if that ain't much of an excuse, and I get that too." She was never this honest before. Usually, she simply deflected or blamed someone else. But here she was, for once admitting openly to being the problem. "Just... be more careful out there. That's all I ask of you. I won't comment on it otherwise anymore though, unless you're in serious danger. I promise." Finishing the last of her bandaging, she hummed at it now looking much securer. This way, you are sure to recover much faster.

Taking a deep breath, you nodded your head at her words, deciding to give her another chance to prove herself. You understood where she was coming from after all. "Okay, fine. I'll accept your apology... if you help me cook." She grinned at that slightly with a casual shrug. "Fine by me, if I get a taste of your heavenly cooking, sweetheart."

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munsster · 6 months ago

Text

fixer upper

A/N: IM ACTUALLY SO EMBARASSED TO ADMIT THIS IS BASED ON ‘FIXER UPPER’ FROM FROZEN 💀💀💀 does that mean it counts as a song fic…….. (gif creds: @buckysbarnes)

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader (Season 3)

Summary: The kids aren’t saying you can change him, per se. They’re only saying that love’s a force that’s powerful and strange. 2.8k words

Warnings: fluff, babygirl steve, cursing, mentions of toxic (?) relationship, hopeless pining, pet names (sweetheart), shameless flirting

Steve can barely see through his rose-tinted daydream, but he's sure he recognizes your smile as soon as you enter the food court. And you lead a trail of whiny teenagers right to his register. This is the fourth time this week you've heard about Steve's lusturous hair and dazzling eyes. You have to hand it to them, they're not bad salesmen, just a tad young to elicit ethos. What the hell do they know about love anyway.

That's what happens when you're licensed and free on a Friday afternoon: babysitting duty. Now, in the event that Steve had been the one saddled with the party on his day off, he would've argued that they're not really babies and they should be self-sufficient. Knowing Dustin, however, this argument proves to be false almost every time.

But it wasn't Steve, it was you. Steve doesn't think he's heard you complain about one thing in your life.

Not even your deadbeat boyfriend called Brad. Who, as Dustin and Max and Robin love to remind him, is utterly replaceable and on thin ice every other week. Steve knows better than to get his hopes up after three months of having them crushed, though. He's learned to live with the strong sense of yearning he feels whenever you're within thirty feet of him.

Take now, for example: you're coralling half a dozen brats into a somewhat single-file line without even having to raise your voice. He should think it's impressive, but he's too distracted by your lip gloss and your voice and the way you did your hair today.

"I hope you give discounts to distressed young women," you tease, brows knitting when you look up at him. This is the part where he's supposed to respond with something charming. Sexy and charismatic, maybe.

"Oh, uh," he chuckles, "No, I mean, yeah. Sure"—Oh, but you smile at him and all that pent up charisma flies out the neon-framed sliding doors. They chatter out their orders at lightning speed, and he can barely catch half of what they're saying when you look at him like that. You finally make it to the register and pay half price. And your cone is always on the house, of course.

"Isn't he such a gentleman?" Max says unenthusiastically. Lucas elbows her side before retreating with Dustin.

"He's also a great driver!" Will chirps, shuffling away to one of the booths with Mike and El who giggle the whole way there. You turn back to Steve who stares off at them incredulously.

"You see what I have to deal with?" you say with some degree of affection for the chaos.

"Aw, come on," Steve says, tilting his head with a shrug, "you love it."

"I think they keep forgetting I already have a boyfriend."

Not much of a boyfriend if you ask me, he thinks.

But what he says: "Ah, yes. The elusive Brad."

You roll your eyes and grin at him. You know Steve has a crush on you. Or else the kids and Robin wouldn't be so adamant on marketing him to you. It's sweet, really. And honestly, you don't think Steve's unfit to play boyfriend or anything, but you're also not disloyal.

Your scoop melts down the side of the cone between your fingers. Steve nearly hurls himself across the counter handing you a thick stack of napkins.

"Shit, thanks," you huff, lapping at the stream of sticky ice cream. His stomach churns as his face screws into a sickly smile.

"Yeah. No problem."

"No, really"—you wrap a napkin around the cone, shoving the rest into your pocket—"I don't know what I'd do if I had to pay the entire bill everytime one of them had a craving."

"Really, it's not a problem," he shrugs it off like it doesn't come out of his paycheck. "I like helping out pretty girls when I can."

You giggle and tilt your head. "Steve Harrington, you're my hero."

He's almost embarassed at how fast his face flushes red hot and frantic. He reaches for the back of his neck on impulse, and any attempt he makes at seeming suave is foiled by Robin patting him on the shoulder.

"If you think that's heroic, there was this one time he singlehandedly saved Hawkins with this sick baseball bat with nails—"

He huffs, "Robin—"

"No, seriously! Don't be so modest, Steve, you're selling yourself short!"

"I'm not trying to sell myself at all!" he says, turning her around and guiding her towards the door to the back room.

"Great seeing you!" she hollers over her shoulder just before disappearing behind the swinging door. You wave with a chuckle. Steve tuts, fixing his sailor hat and shaking his head.

"Did you really do all that? Save Hawkins, I mean?" you ask. And you seem genuinely interested which is why it guts him. The one girl who actually gives a shit is coincidentally unavailable.

"Yeah," he says, shrugging, "but only to clear my conscience. It's like penance, or whatever."

You giggle, not sure if he's being truthful or playing it off. He meets your eyes and he's sure his heart stops dead in his chest for a beat. Nobody pulls off mall lighting like you.

The kids come skipping back to the counter, declaring they've all got different wants and needs around the mall for the next few hours.

"Okay, hold on, I promised I'd have you guys back before my date," you say, Steve overseeing the conversation from over your shoulder.

"Well," he interjects, "when's your date?" All the attention shifts to Steve, and he suddenly wishes he could swallow up the words and take them back for good.

"Two hours from now. Across town," you say, looking a little guilty knowing he's about to make the kindest offer of the year.

"I'm off at five, so I can just"—stop talking—"take them home after my shift."

"Steve, really, you don't have to—"

El grins, eyes wide as she whispers in Max's ear.

Steve shakes his head, "Sweetheart, believe me, I want to. Besides, you've already been through enough with the rascals. Go have fun."

You turn to the kids, almost pleading with them to accept Steve's generosity.

"Is that okay with you guys? I don't wanna leave you stranded," you admit.

They nod in agreement, throwing out a couple yes's and sure's. They're bright-eyed and bushy-tailed as ever, but you still feel bad dumping them on Steve like this.

Dustin interrupts: "This really just goes to show how Steve is a great candidate for marriage and other domestic relations. He can be odd at times and he might care too much about his hair, but you can tell by his actions that he would be a very reliable husband, a generous life partner, and—"

"And a great friend," you giggle, trying not to let Dustin get too carried away. You have sat through enough of his speeches for one day. "Now, quit trying to set us up!"

Steve rolls his eyes at the boy. "Seriously, at least wait 'til she's single. Then she can reject me for me."

You whip back to face him with a sour look on your face.

"Steven! That's not—that's rude to yourself," you huff, "Say three nice things."

He chuckles, crossing his arms over his chest and squinting at you.

"You're pretty, I like your shoes, and you smell nice."

"About you!"

"Ohh," he feigns surprise, "No." But you reach across the counter to whack him on the arm with a shocking amount of force. The kids chuckle from behind you. Steve can't help but smile when you raise your brows proudly. "Fine! I am deserving of love, I am great company, and my hair looks particularly shiny today."

"Good," you nod, "I agree. And I have to go, see ya!"

"With which one?" he says, watching you jog out of the store waving. "Wait! Sweetheart? Agree with which one??"

Steve sighs sharply, hands perched decidedly on his hips as his gaze falls flat on the militia of pre teens staring him down.

"What do you want?" he says.

"You're hopeless," Max says, mouth pressed in a hard line before she wanders off, arm-in-arm with El.

"Yeah, dude. And kinda desperate," Mike shrugs.

"Hey," he grumbles. Who knew such harsh words could come from such little humans. You'd think they'd be harmless at this age. You'd be wrong.

"You're a total virgin," Dustin says, very matter-of-factly.

Steve cocks a brow, honestly trying not to laugh at the severity of Dustin's demeanor when he says it. "I don't even think you know what that means."

Dustin blinks. "Well, I think you haven't had sex in long enough that you qualify as one."

"Shit."

...

Much to Steve’s surprise, it only takes butthead Brad two more weeks to absolutely shatter your heart. No one knows the complete details other than it happened at a frat party and you had to walk back to the dorms alone. But Steve doesn’t need complete details to know he wants to shatter Brad’s jaw with his fist.

But he also vowed to use means other than violence to get his point across. He should be awarded for the amount of restraint it took to see your bloodshot eyes and not speed immediately off towards Asshole University like a Brad-seeking atomic missile.

Of course, he’s thankful you felt comfortable enough to call him. In fact, he was the first one you rang. And he knows this fact because you told him while you were sniffling away tears a week and a half after the break up.

Now, you’re sitting in the passenger seat of his beemer, curled into your sweater, and listening to late night soft rock radio while he focuses on the dark highway ahead of him. You hadn’t wanted to do anything else but sit in his car and think. His heart clenches everytime you wipe away a tear with your soggy sleeve.

He pulls off the highway during an ad break, finding a secluded diner surrounded by nothing but trees and gas stations. He pulls into a parking spot near the back of the lot where the overhead lights aren’t blinding, but you aren’t completely in the dark. He leaves the car on so the cold doesn’t seep in, engine still purring softly from under the hood.

“Who needs ‘em,” he says in attempt to lighten the mood. “Being single is way cooler. Take it from me. You get a bed all to yourself and you can fart whenever you want.”

You’re frowning, but you know he means well. You just can’t help the fat tears rolling down your cheeks.

“Oh, come here,” he whispers, leaning over the center console and dipping his hands over your shoulder and around your waist. His arms feel so strong and so warm where they envelop you entirely. Steve always was the best hug you ever receieved.

You can’t help but chuckle wetly into his collar after a moment.

“God, he was such an asshole, wasn’t he?”

“Uh, duh! Doesn’t take a genius to…” Steve laughs, pausing and brushing the hair away from your damp cheeks. “I know, sweetheart, and you deserve heaps better. You were always way too cool for that loser.”

You blink up at him in the low light. There’s a kind of twinkle in your eye that makes the tips of his ears hot. This time, you reach for him, weaving your arms beneath his jacket with a deep sigh. Your breathing slows against his neck, and he rubs your back while your arms tighten a little around his waist.

He can’t help but wonder what you’re thinking whenever you look at him with your doe eyes, seemingly sweet and far too inquisitive. He knows you’re probably just looking, maybe thinking of something else. But the hopeless romantic in him rattles his rib cage and shouts you might actually consider him this time.

“Wanna go get shakes? On me,” he whispers. You sniffle, wiping your aching nose on the cuff of your sleeve.

“I can pay for myself,” you tease, popping open the car door when he cuts the engine.

“Nope! Sorry, I don’t let girls pay, remember? Super sexist, I know. Plus the whole pretty privilege thing. Honestly, I should just be paying you at this point,” he says, hooking his arm around your back and feeling yours reach for his shoulder as you march towards the diner.

“I agree, rich boy,” you chuckle, “Reparations are in order for wrongdoings on behalf of your sex.”

He chuckles. He’s absolutely head over heels.

The waitress seats you at a cozy booth in the corner and makes a casual comment about the cute couple, asking how long you two have been together. Steve flounders at the question, flustered and pink in the face.

“Oh, we’re actually… not together,” you say, laughing awkwardly when she pouts and, again, remarks on how cute you’d be together. You order shakes for the both of you before perching your chin in your hand. Steve’s still reeling when the waitress walks away.

“Funny. We can’t even escape the third-degree from complete strangers,” you tease, winking at him from just a few feet away. Jesus, he’d think you were trying to kill him if you didn’t seem so lighthearted and playful.

“Yeah, pretty funny,” he sighs. And he’s probably being so obvious. Or maybe that’s how he is all of the time, so his heart eyes seem subtle. Or it’s obvious all of the time.

The waitress slides the shakes in front of you, and the bright red cherries sink further into the whipped cream.

“You know,” you murmur between sips, “I always thought you were pretty cute.”

He nearly chokes on his mouthful of chocolate malt, clearing his throat and trying not to crumble in on himself.

“Oh. Yeah, I get that a lot,” he huffs, “Mostly from little old ladies, but—Hey!”

You flick him and say, “Really! I know it’s not couth considering… Brad and all, but…”

“You’re being facetious,” Steve accuses.

“No—”

“Sarcastic!”

“Steve—”

“Ironic?”

“Try serious!” you hum, “I’m just saying, you’re very handsome. I was shocked to learn you were single when we first met.”

Steve’s blushing and puffing trying to maintain eye contact.

“What can I say? I’m just,” he huffs, “I’m not really worried about it.”

You tilt your head. “You’re not?”

“Nah. I know the right girl will find me in the end. Even if it takes a while. I don’t mind waiting for the right one.”

You settle back in the padded seat, wincing when it squeals beneath you. It makes you feel a little dejected, but you suppose he’s right. Especially because he seems so confident. So sure. It’s admirable. You want to be that sure of soulmates and love and the future.

“I feel the same way,” you whisper. He finishes off the rest of his glass with a smile.

“Though, it doesn’t exactly help having a bunch of little shitheads telling you to go get laid all the time,” he laughs.

“Oh, yeah, tell me about it” you lean in, “Just break up with him, steve is so much nicer. Dump that loser. Steve has a big crush on you.”

“They said that?” Steve’s not dumb, he’s sure you know by now, but he thought it was all conjecture. They will be hearing about this next time they want free ice cream.

“Yeah, that was like their main point. But I know with all the love in my heart they’re all full of shit.”

You shrug, and he chuckles dryly. He can’t decide whether you knowing is for better or for worse.

“Yeah,” he sighs.

Steve drives you home. You fall asleep in the car, and he keeps the radio low so as not to wake you. By the time he pulls into your driveway, he doesn’t care about the time or the fact that he lives far. He does, however, care about the way you smile lazily and peck his cheek in thanks.

“Anytime, sweetheart.”

He says it but he wants to tell you what he’s feeling. He wants to ask if you’re over Brad. He knows you’re not and that’s okay, but he wants to ask if he can hold your hand to keep it warm. He wants to ask what kind of flowers you like and if it would be okay for him to drop them off on your doorstep tomorrow. He has so much he wants to say and do, but he doesn’t want to suffocate you.

He doesn’t know that you wouldn’t mind him asking.

more like this

masterlist

#the babygirlification of steve harrington #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things #x reader #fluff #stranger things x reader #x fem!reader #friends to lovers #stranger things season three #scoops ahoy

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dwaekkicidal · 5 months ago

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"Heats" with Puppy!Seungmin

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ summary: Day 4 of my Bboki-Dwae collab with @bbokicidal <3

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ word count: ~800

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ warnings: fem!reader, lots of marking (bites+hickeys), spanking, rough sex mentions, light(?) manhandling, breeding, some cumplay, like 1 overstim mention, i mightve missed one

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ notes: wish i could have made this longer but i've been so busy :((

DO NOT republish or translate+post my work!

❥ Jealous. Jealous. Jealous. J e a l o u s.

❥ These mating season fits tend to get him very aggressive and standoffish. To everyone.

❥ One simple glance at you from any person in the vicinity will send him into a fit of rage. But, thankfully for you, he doesn’t act on this in public! That’s saved for the bedroom, where you’re held down in his favorite position- downward doggy, for hours at a time.

❥ Does not care about any excuses anybody has to give. The second he notices that somebody is too close to you or even “looking at you for too long”, you’re getting dragged home to be shown your place

❥ Expect to be absolutely covered in bite marks and hickeys, ones that he “tries” to keep in spots where they won’t be seen. But, let's be real... We all know he gets a hard-on and a huge ego boost when they’re in obvious places and you just so happen to be out in public

❥ Looooves to leave deep bite marks on your neck and shoulders (some may or may not even have little holes from where his sharp canines dig into your skin hehe)

❥ He loses his mind when he sees these marks on your tummy and thighs from the prior night, him having completely forgotten that he even left them. Obviously, nobody will see them. But knowing that you’re fully marked up in the “most important” areas will get him instantly ready to go again

❥ Usually will be very apologetic about the bites that have wounds from his teeth but, if he’s particularly aggravated, he will start doing it on purpose.

❥ He gets real mean when he’s like that; a deep frown on his face and a low growl bubbling up in his throat as he pins you to the bed and berates you over things you had no control over. You both know that, but that won’t stop him from using it to fuck you nice and rough. And it surely won’t stop you from enjoying each and every time his hips slam into yours.

❥ Has such an obnoxious knot!!!!! You can’t tell if it’s all in your head, but when he’s extra cranky and giving in to his instincts to breed you, his knot feels like it's double the size.

❥ And he’s always so mean about it :( he’s a little shit and likes to tug his hips away from yours right after his knot fully expands, testing the limits of how far it will actually plug you (spoiler: it does not come out)

❥ If he’s rather eager, his knot can last up to half an hour. Which, may or may not be to your demise, usually ends in him reaching over into your nightstand, grabbing his favorite toy so he can overstimulate you out of boredom while you cockwarm him <3

❥ Breeds you until your stomach hurts from the number of times he’s came deep inside <3 Tells you that it better take or else he’ll just have to fuck you over and over and over again, which leads to you drooling from overstimulation and dripping cum all over the sheets

❥ Surprisingly he’s not one to get upset about you “wasting” his seed. In fact, it’s the only mess that he actually likes.

❥ To the point where he will pull out after knotting you just to sit there, tapping his dick on your messy folds with a big dopey smile on his face

❥ Absolutely loves the wet plap noises your cunt makes when he slaps his cock against you. So much so that it’s subconscious as he keeps himself occupied during downtime, usually the few minutes you get between rounds before he’s re-entering you, ready to breed you again and again.

❥ Is big on wrapping a hand around your neck, be it on your nape or on the front of your neck, and holding you down. It lets him force you to take everything he has to give while limiting how much you wiggle around

❥ Pairs this with stinging slaps to your ass cheeks, and a comment about how you’re his and how nobody else will ever have you like this, in order to get your pretty pussy even wetter around him

“I should fuck a litter into you. Then maybe people will stop fucking looking at what’s mine.”

“You’re gonna be such a hot mother for my pups. Shit- Gonna keep you nice and full of my offspring.”

“Stop fucking moving, I need to mark you.”

“Take this fucking knot, puppy. Yeah? Fuck yeah~”

“Such a pretty pussy. All nice n’ messy from my cum.” As he rubs his tip through your folds, sometimes poking your clit to watch you shake ><

“I have to keep us entertained until my knot goes down, so you’ll let me play with you a bit- right, Jagi?”

Taglist:

@valkyriexo @lunearta @jabmastersupriseee @rylea08

@yaorzu-blog @amararosesblog @jiminssluttyminx @clemissleepy

@miss-daisy04 @kittyxnoa @dwaekkiiracha @bubblerizz

@mariteez

#bbokidwae collab #sian’s writing #stray kids smut #stray kids drabbles #stray kids x reader #skz smut #skz drabbles #skz x reader #seungmin smut #seungmin x reader #seungmin drabbles #stray kids imagines #skz x reader smut #seungmin x reader smut #stray kids x reader smut

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iamred-iamyellow · 2 months ago

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⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ Tis The Damn Season

♥ masterlist | request rules | 12 days of ficmas

♥ pairing: lando norris x fem!driver!reader

♥ synopsis: lando’s certainly feeling the pressure of gift giving this holiday season. he wanted to give you something to show you he truly cares and turns to the grid for help.

♥ wc: 1.1k - as always none of the pictures are mine

♥ warnings: swearing and fluffy fluff fluff !!!

♥ a/n: first day of ficmas with some platonic norstappen <3

Grill the Grid Secret Santa was a video all the fans looked forward to. It was a cute tradition—but everyone always ended up with a bunch of random crap they didn’t know what to do with. But after pulling your name this year, Lando had to make sure the gift was perfect

“I don’t see why you’re taking this so seriously,” Max laughed. “Charles cut out pictures of his own face for me a few years ago.”

“How romantic,” Lando replied, drawing an eye roll from Max. “I just don’t know what to get her.”

Max took a swig of beer, “And you think I do?”

Lando sighed, “I don’t know… I just—I don’t want to get her some random shit object that she’s gonna throw away. I want it to be important.”

“And when I asked you if you were into this girl you said no,” Max smirked.

“Shut up,” Lando said with a playful eye roll.

Lando

what the fuck do i actually get y/n for secret santa

Charles

You’re not supposed to tell us who you got :(

Carlos

Get her a jumper

Lando

I’m not getting her a lame ass jumper

Pierre

…i got carlos a jumper one year

Lando

I’m aware

Lando sighed and clicked off his phone, the only light source in his room. He switched on his bedside lamp and wandered around his bedroom looking for ideas.

He stepped towards a shelf, a few helmets and tchotchkes on display along with a framed picture of the two of you from your karting days. Sitting beside it was a few broken shards of china.

-2023 Hungarian Grand Prix-

Despite the cheering in the grand stands, you could hear the cracking of your first trophy as clear as day. The beautiful hand painted porcelain hit the ground hard, breaking in three different places after Lando popped the champagne.

It wasn't his fault of course. Accidents happen all the time. It was still a shame though. The first woman to win an F1 Grand Prix and her trophy breaks?

"This is misogyny, actually," your PR manager Morgan said, eliciting a laugh from you and a few drivers.

"I'm so sorry Y/n, I had no idea that would happen," Lando apologized profusely, a look of sincerity in his eyes.

"No, no, don't be sorry. It's okay," you promised.

"Congratulations, seriously. You had an amazing drive," Max praised you while wiping the sweat off the back of his neck.

You adjusted your cap, pulling your ponytail through the space between the clasp and fabric.

"'Thank you," you say breathlessly, gulping down a cold bottle of water.

"Alright, post race interviews for everyone and I'll find out about your new trophy Y/n," Morgan said, setting the broken pieces of porcelain on a table.

Your head spun with ideas what was going to happen to the broken ceramic. Whatever you had in mind never came close to what actually did happen with it.

Lando thought, "Maybe I could try finding the rest of the pieces and rebuild it?"

Absolutely not. Give her own fucking trophy to her as a gift? How lame.

He played with the jewelry on his veiny hands anxiously, caring way too much about the impression his future gift would give you.

Within seconds of this he was struck with the most perfect idea. He tucked the pieces of your trophy into his pocket and quickly made it out the front door, ready to begin a perfect Secret Santa.

“Alright,” an interviewer handed you a small box that was wrapped with colorful paper and a bow. “We need you to guess who this is from.”

You shook it carefully, noticing some rounded ridges that stuck out. You gently slipped the ribbon off with a single pull, used the tip of your nail to slice through some clear tape, and unwrapped the gift.

From the moment you pulled it out, everyone knew it was a ring box. The black velvet encapsulating it said everything.

“Wow am I getting proposed to on grill the grid?” you joked, stirring a laugh from the filming crew.

You opened the case to reveal a ring front and center. It wasn’t just any kind of ring though. There was gold rimming around the band and the purple-ish pink design that stood out perfectly on the white porcelain.

Along with that was a folded up picture of you and Lando. The one from karting. The same one he had in his bedroom.

Your heart completely melted, remembering the days where you two were so close.

“Well, this is clearly from Lando,” you smiled with a soft laugh, putting a hand over your heart.

“May I see the ring?” the woman interviewing you asked.

“Mhm,” you nodded, handing her over the glossy object.

She squinted to get a good look at the design.

“This looks like the hungary trophies you know,” she said, looking back up to you.

“It does,” a crew member agreed.

You held your hand out for the small object back and inspected it yourself. It couldn't possibly be...?

It was.

You placed the folded picture back into the box and kept the ring in your palm.

“Hang on,” you pulled out your phone and called Lando as the cameras kept rolling.

“Can you come over here? We’re by Ferrari hospitality.”

Within minutes Lando made his way to you alongside Max.

“Is this from my trophy in Hungary?” you held up the ring with two fingers.

“Yeah,” Lando nodded.

“Did you fucking steal my trophy?” you laughed.

“Only like a few pieces,” he held his hands up in surrender with a playful smile. “There were some on the floor that I stashed in my pocket to figure out what to do with later. Maybe ask an FIA person but we all know I didn't get around to that. What do you know? They were in my pockets at the end of the day and i just kept them on a shelf.”

“Well good thing you did,” you looked at the ring and slipped it on your finger. You walked over to him slowly and threw your arms around his shoulders, pulling him in for a tight hug.

“It was one of the most, if not the most important moment in F1 history,” he mumbled against your shoulder. “I want you to always have a piece of that podium with you.”

You pulled away and wiped a tear from your eye with a laugh. With the memory of that day, the ring, and the picture of you and Lando as kids, all the emotions were starting to flood back.

“Fuck you for making me cry,” you laughed, using the sleeve on your sweater to wipe your face. You softly kissed his cheek and squeezed Lando’s hand before they cut the clip.

You’ll never live down that video. It’s mentioned probably a thousand times a day by fans alone shipping the two of you. But eventually, that first ring Lando ever gave you will sit on your finger right next to the wedding band he proposed to you with.

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

taglist; @sainzzreputaticn @theseerbetweenus @yawn-zi

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burreauxsworld · 3 months ago

Text

Ours To Keep (5) | Joe Burrow

Major Angst, Fluff

Summary: Joe’s words hang heavy over you. So much that you haven’t spoken to him in a week unless it was work related. Joe is on a mission to make it up to you.

You sat at your desk in your office typing away, answering email after email. The Bengals had their second pre season game yesterday against the Falcons, although Joe didn’t play yesterday, it was still a long day for you. Jake Browning’s assistant ended up getting covid, so you took on that role for the day. Mostly just to piss Joe off, which you succeeded in doing. Between that and losing the game, Joe was on a warpath.

He’d tried for several days to reach out to you, or corner you at work, or even show up to your house unannounced. But you always pretended you weren’t home. He feels terrible for what he said and he knows you’re hurting. But you’ve completely shut him out. He hadn’t heard anything about the baby, or if the baby was even okay. He deserved it, he knew that, but he thought the two of you would have talked it out by now.

Which is why he didn’t give you a choice when he burst into your office and slammed the door. You looked up instantly and let out a sigh, rolling your eyes and looking back down at your laptop. “What do you want Burrow?”

“Burrow? That’s where we are now?” It’s his turn to roll his eyes as he stands in front of your desk with his bulging arms crossed over his chest. “I’m busy” you say, not looking up. His large hand pushes the top of the laptop closed. “Not anymore.”

“I don’t want to talk to you.” You say. “Too bad. We’re having a baby together. You have to deal with me for 18 years” he retorts and you let out a dry laugh. “A baby that you don’t even want” you mumble. “I never said that I didn’t want the baby. I was just frustrated and you-“

“Are you really trying to justify how you treated me last week by saying that you were upset?!” You exclaim. “Joe, I can’t do this anymore. I can’t be your emotional punching bag whenever you lose a game or when you’re mad at the world. We’ve been together exclusively for all of 2 weeks and I spent one of them questioning everything” you rant, tears filling your eyes. “If this is how it’s going to be now, what’s it going to be like when she gets here?”

“She?” Joe asks, confused.

“The ultrasound. The one that you were too mad at the world to go to. We’re having a girl. By the way, I’m due February 11th if you even care” you spit. His face softens and he takes a step toward you, and you take a step back. “Baby-“

“No. Immediately no. You don’t get to come in here and do that. You said some really hurtful shit to me and you don’t get to act like it didn’t happen just because you’re saying sorry,” you rant. He opens his mouth to speak but you beat him to it. “I can’t be you punching bag Joe. I get it, your pissed because the team isn’t off to great start. You’re mad at the world, and that’s fine. But you don’t get to treat me like shit because you feel like shit. We’re a team, Joe. Now more than ever” you continue, tears brimming your eyes.

“When you didn’t show up to the ultrasound, I was more hurt than angry. You promised me you’d be at every single appointment, and that I wouldn’t feel like I was doing this alone. This week showed me a different side of you and I’m not sure how I feel about it. You aren’t my boss anymore, Joe. You’re my boyfriend. The father of my child. So if that’s not what you want, you need to tell me now. I’m tired of the back and forth and feeling like I’m just wanted for sex-“

“Hold on. I’ve never just wanted you for sex. You know that” he says defensively. “Lately it feels like if we’re not fucking, we’re fighting” you respond, your voice cracking. “Joe, I love you with my whole heart. I want to be with you more than I want the air in my lungs, but I’m not going to tolerate you being an ass to me every time you lose a game” you tell him, not breaking eye contact. You notice his eyes are brimmed with tears too.

“So if you want out, please just say the word-“

“I don’t want out. I don’t want to go anywhere” Joe says, stepping toward you. This time you don’t move. You let him wrap you in his arms and you start to sob into his chest. “I’m not going anywhere. Non now, not ever” Joe says, kissing the top of your head. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I have a lot of things I need to work on. Treating you better is at the top of my list. I’ve started going to therapy-“

You pull your head back and look up at him. “What?”

“I’ve been trying to reach out to you all week to tell you. I know that there’s no amount of apologies that can make up for what I said to you. I made you feel like I didn’t want you or this baby and that couldn’t be farther from the truth. Y/N, you’re my best friend. You’ve stuck by me at my worst. I’ve lost my mind. But all I’m asking is that you try to forgive me. I’m not asking for right away. I just want you by my side without hating me-“

“I don’t hate you Joe. I’m still very hurt, though. It’s going to take some time” you tell him. “In the mean time, I have sonogram pictures. Do you want to see our little girl?” You ask him, a smile forming on your face. “Uh, yeah. Is that even a question?”

•••

Joe headed back out to practice after looking at the sonogram pictures. You were still really hurt, but seeing his smile while looking at the small pictures made you happy. Before he left he gave you a kiss, and after a week of not speaking to him, it had your hormones soaring. You lean back in your desk chair and place a hand on your growing bump.

It’s only a matter of time before people start to figure it out. Wearing hoodies and baggy clothes is only going to work for so long. It was a relief that Gabby knows though, you didn’t have to wear a hoodie in your office and your desk hid your bump if anyone besides Joe or Ja’Marr came in. Speaking of Gabby.

“Hey, girlie. Brought you lunch. You and baby need to eat” Gabby says, placing a bag in front of you. You groaned at the smell of the food. You didn’t realize how hungry you were until now. “Subway? How did you know I’ve been craving a chicken bacon ranch”

Gabby laughs. “You’ve only been talking about it for 3 days”

“I saw Joe coming out of here a few minutes ago. How did that go?” She asks while taking a seat at her desk. “It was okay. He apologized profusely and we looked at sonogram pictures” you tell her as you start to literally devour your sandwich. “He understands that I’m still hurt and it’s going to take a little while before we’re back to normal” you add. “Good. He can’t treat you that way just because we lost a stupid game” Gabby says.

“And speaking of sonogram pics, did you find out what your having yet?” Gabby asks excitedly. You look up at her with a smirk on your face and she jumps to her feet. “Y/N! Oh my god!” She squeals. “We’re having a girl” you tell her, and she squeals even louder. You suddenly stand to your feet with urgency.

“Sorry to cut this short but this baby is sitting right on my bladder and I have to pee”

•••

You find yourself walking up the driveway of Joe’s house after work. After not being here for a week, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss sleeping in his bed. Since the beginning of your pregnancy, you’ve slept better if he was there. So when he called and asked you to come over after work, you agreed.

You open the door using you key that he gave you and walk in to a delicious smell of food cooking. You walk toward the kitchen where Joe stands in front of the stove stirring some kind of sauce. “Hey,” you say, and he turns around with a soft smile. “Hey gorgeous”

“What are you making?” You ask as you wrap your arms around him from behind. “Cajun shrimp Alfredo. Your fav” he says, and you smile. “You’re really trying to butter me up, aren’t you?” You tease and he lets out a laugh. “I think I’ve buttered you up enough, hence the baby bump pressing into my back” he jokes, and you both laugh. “You filled me up, not buttered”

“Y/N!” Joe calls out surprised while you let out a loud laugh. “My god, what am I gonna do with you” he jokes, turning around in your arms. “Um…” you tap your chin pretending to think. “You can start by bending me over this counter,” you tell him, giving him what he calls the bedroom eyes. He smirks. “Oh yeah? Then what?” He asks, walking you back until your back is pressed against the counters edge. “Then you can fuck me until I see stars” you whisper, before he smashed his lips onto yours.

The kiss is filled with passion, and pent up sexual frustration. Joe’s hands land on your ass, giving both cheeks a firm squeeze, while your hands move along his biceps. His kisses start to move down your neck and you crane your head to the side to give him better access. The growling of your stomach causes him to laugh against your neck before pulling away. “As much as I want to do this, let’s get some food in you and then we can talk about sex” he says. As he’s playing the food, he looks deep in thought.

“You okay? You look a little lost” you say with a slight laugh. “Yeah, I’m good. There’s just something I want to talk to you about,” he turns toward you and he sets the glass plate in front of you on the kitchen island, and stands across from you. “You can totally say no. But I was wondering if you wanted to move in here? With me” he says, his voice quaking from nervousness. “I just figured it might be easier once the baby comes, and you’re here all the time anyway-“

“Joey, I would love to move in with you” you say, reaching over to place your hand on top of his with a soft smile on your face. “There’s also something I’ve been meaning to bring up to you” you start, and let out a sigh. “I think you should stop paying me” you say, looking up to meet his eyes. “Why wouldn’t I pay you? You work hard, and on top of everything else you’re still my assistant” he says, confused. “We’re dating now, Joe. I’m sleeping with you. I’m not a prostitute” you say with a laugh. “But I’m not paying you for that. I’m paying you for all the shit you have to put up with because of me” he argues.

“Joe-“

“Not to mention game days. I put you through hell on game days” he rambles, before taking a deep breath. “You done?” You ask him. “I don’t want you to pay me anymore, baby. If I’m going to be living here I’ll be fine. I only had you pay me before because I needed to make rent money. Now, I’m not saying you’ll be responsible for everything financially. I’ve found a remote job that all I have to do is log onto a computer. I’m going to do that, while still being your assistant because whether you want to admit it or not, you need the help” you joke, and he scoffs.

“You’re not wrong.” He says and you laugh.

After that, the two of you eat in silence. But not an uncomfortable silence, just enjoying each other company. Once finished you walk your and Joe’s plates over to the sink, as he leans against the island watching you. When you turn toward him he smiles and opens his arms for a hug, but you have other ideas.

“Now I wanna do something that I’ve been thinking about all week,” you say, as you drop to your knees in front of him. He has a smirk on his face as he looks down at you. “Go to town, baby”

#joe burrow #cincinnati bengals #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow smut

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theemporium · 6 months ago

Note

congrats again on 10k! can i order a you're mai tai number 31 with norstappen?

-🌠

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

31. doing a pinky swear

“I am too old for this shit.”

“Babe—”

“My heart can only take so much! It’s like you two want to kill me.”

“Schat—”

“Do not try to be cute with me, Verstappen,” you shot the boy a glare, quickly silencing him. And when you heard some snickers coming from the other boy, your glare shifted to him too. “You too, Norris. I’m angry at both of you.”

“We were racing, baby,” Lando said with a small shrug of his shoulders. “It happens.”

“Yeah, not like that though!” You argued, crossing your arms over your chest before either boy could try to reach for you. “You both were reckless, pulling stupid moves and you’re both lucky neither one of you got hurt.”

Max’s eyes softened a little. “I know you’re worried but we are fine. Everything is okay.”

“But it’s not,” you huffed, your bottom lip tucked between your teeth, now bitten red and raw. “It was fucking terrifying to watch. And then you both wouldn’t even talk to each other—”

“Emotions were high,” Lando murmured with blushing cheeks.

“—and then people kept making stupid edits and just,” you took a pause to breathe. “I love you both. And you’re amazing drivers. But you cannot pull shit like that for the rest of the season if you’re both competing for the championship.”

And you didn’t want to sound bitchy. You knew they knew what they were doing, you trusted them behind those wheels because they understood racing far better than you ever could. But you were worried and Austria gave you a glimpse into a possible future where things don’t work out nicely and you didn’t like it.

You don’t want either boy to get hurt. You don’t want to see either boy hurt each other. And you certainly didn’t want repeats of Sunday night in Austria where neither boy wanted to talk to you or each other.

“We know,” Max murmured softly as he reached for you, as you finally gave in as he tugged you close until you were standing between him and Lando. “We can’t promise something won’t happen again because we can’t always control that.”

“But we promise we won’t do it when we can avoid it,” Lando finished, slotting in behind you with his hands resting on your waist. “We want to race each other, fair and square.”

“Promise?” You murmured, looking between the boys with a hopeful expression.

“Promise,” both boys nodded in unison.

But you lifted your hands, offering a pinky to each of them with a serious expression on your face. “Pinky swear?”

Max snorted but joined Lando in hooking his pinky around yours. “We swear.”

“I double swear,” Lando added, cheeky and playful and yelping when Max reached over to punch him.

“Good,” you sighed, shoulders dropping in relief and a smile taking over your face. “But that stunt in Austria was still bullshit and I’m still annoyed you both ignored me after the race so no blowjobs for a week.”

Max’s lips parted in surprise whilst Lando squawked. “What? No! Why a week?”

You shrugged, grinning. “Have fun entertaining each other, boys.”

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rafescvntyclubgf · 5 months ago

Text

𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘 ℙ𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝟚 – 𝕋𝕨𝕚𝕟 ℝ𝕒𝕗𝕖 𝔽𝕚𝕔

+18 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓸𝓻 𝓓𝓝𝓘

𝙲𝚞𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗𝙱𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝙱𝚞𝚣𝚣𝙲𝚞𝚝!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝙶𝙵!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

Warning: Language, drug usage, drinking, name calling, choking, pet names, sharing kink, ownership kink, fingering, unprotected p in v, choking, cuckolding, rough sex, anal sex, oral male receiving, oral female receiving, threesome, degradation, hair pulling, pussy slapping, female oral stim from the back, the twins talk about the reader in an explicit manner without her.

📖 After meeting Rafe's (CurtainBangs!) twin brother Cam (BuzzCut!) for the first time, Rafe gives you a proposal you can't help but accept: sharing you.

❕❕𝚝𝚑𝚎 ��𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚡 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚌𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚣𝚎𝚛𝚘 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛. 𝙸𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚍𝚘 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚙𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗❕❕

Rafe’s POV:

“Too bad you’re not coming in two weeks,” I drone as I relax on the couch, kicking my feet up on the coffee table. I run my fingers through my hair, turning my hat backward as I shift my attention to the bathroom, watching Y/n’s shadow moves underneath it. Baby girl…

“What’s goin’ on then?” Cam asks, mindlessly flipping through the TV; pulling up Netflix.

“MacLaren’s comin’ to town for a soccer game.”

“No shit,” Cam grins. “Aunt Connie and Uncle Matt comin’ too?”

“I don’t know. Probably,” I shrug.

“He bringin’ Zoey?”

“Hope not,” I sough. “Girl’s a dud.”

Cam snickers as he lifts his White Claw to his lips, draining the can. “She’s no, Y/n. That’s for sure. You sure this is okay, buddy?” Cam asks as he reaches behind his ear, fishing out a joint.

“Dude…” I scoff, narrowing my eyes on his as he blazes up. “Season ain’t over for me.”

“That’s a shame, brother,” Cam chuckles cruelly before popping it between his lips. “This is good shit. Remember, you ended my season, dickhead. I deserve this shit,” he gripes, his voice already gravelly from the weed. He relaxes his head on the back of the couch, blowing a thick cloud of smoke to the ceiling. “Your girl is stunning. Fuck. She’s somethin’ special,” Cam rolls his head to the side, matching my eyes.

“What did I tell ya?” I gloat as I extend my fingers, reaching for the joint. “Just one hit.”

“Rafey… I dunno,” he mocks, eyeing it as he rolls it between his fingers. “The season ain’t over.”

“Shut the fuck up,” I clip before snatching it from his hands, ripping the joint between my lips. The sticky smoke swirls in my lungs, quenching a fraction of my thirst. “Fuck,” I groan through my exhale, passing it back to his reluctantly. “Take this shit before I smoke it all.”

“Ya didn’t answer my question, dumbfuck,” Cam mumbles, joint dangling from his lips. “You sure you’re okay with this?” I look toward the closed bathroom door, listening for y/n. Her little heels click across the tile, causing my excitement to build even more.

Goddamn. I love watchin’ my girls get fucked. She’s it. She’s that forever type of love. This high is gonna hit different. ‘Course I share. It’s like watchin’ porn, but I’m the star. I’m cuckolding myself… I don’t look at Cam. I’m not a perv like that. But, watching the woman I love get railed by a man who looks like me is a fuckin’ trip. And two of me versus one of them, holy shit, that’s ecstasy.

I’m not jealous of Cam. It also helps that I’m bigger than him. Longer… I got that curve that she loves. The one that makes my neighbors leave nasty little notes on my door after a great night. She never came from a cock before she had me. Always fakin’ it.

Sure, my brother’s thicker, but my stroke game’s better. It always has been. I like to see him try to outdo me. Hasn’t happened yet.

“Please say ‘yes,’ Rafe. Jesus fuckin’ Christ.” Cam snaps me out of my daze, blowing a stream of weed smoke in my face. “Also, can you pull your head out of your ass? This is important shit.”

“Of course, it’s okay, bitch. This isn’t our first rodeo. Twenty bucks says I can make her cum faster,” I taunt as I cock my eyebrow, making him do the same.

“We countin’ the club… What was that, couple minutes tops? The shit was quick.”

“Nah. I helped. That ain’t fair,” I mock. “I’ll even let you go first. You might stand a chance.”

“You’re a cocky little fuck,” Cam sighs weakly, rubbing his hands over his tight buzz cut. “Rules? She’s your girl. What am I workin’ with?”

“Anythin’ you want. I get her ass. I get her last.”

“Fair. Rather rude that you won’t let me take her in the ass, man… I am a guest in your home.”

“That makes no fuckin’ sense,” I chuckle, crossing my arms across my chest; giving him a side-eye.

“Yeah? That’s ‘cause you have no manners, Country Club,” Cam taunts.

“Yeah, Yacht Club? ‘N you do? Oh, by the way, I like your buzz cut, Cami. You finally look like a real man.”

“I like your curtain bangs, Rafey. You look like a fuckin’, princess.”

Bitch. I move fast, punching him roughly in the arm, making him wince. “Good choice,” I bully as I wiggle my eyebrows.

“Yeah. Yeah. ‘You’re the only one standin’ in between me and your girl’s pussy. Yadda. Yadda’.” He mocks my voice, knowing what I was aiming to say. And he’s right. I could end this shit any time I wanted. Y/n is mine.

I sit in my chair, eyes trail up Y/n’s body. Ugh… Those legs, those thighs– my eyes double, mouth falling open as she drops her little robe for Cam. A bright pink garter belt hugs her skin. Fuck me. I follow the strap higher, my eyes following the curve of her ass. Ugh… I feel helpless. I wanna peel that ruffly little thong right off her body; unfasten the hooks of her pink bra one by one. Her skin is just begging to be touched, her lips kissed, body fucked senseless.

Cam’s moving slower than expected. Taking his time where he’d typically rush. His hands trail her body, skimming her curves, taking it all into memory.

Shit. I’d take her right there. Push her to her knees… Shove my cock down her throat. She gives the best fuckin’ blowjobs, not afraid to get messy for me. Daddy’s perfect little slut. But damn, does she look good bent over my dresser. Her knee thrown up on the top. My hands holding her hips as I watch her take all of me from the back, catching her beautiful face in the reflection of the mirror. But there’s always the bed. I’d spread her out and dick her down, devour her, anything and everything she ever wanted. ‘Rafe’. I can hear her moans and picture her climax perfectly. That face is forever etched into my mind.

“Fuck baby,” Cam chuckles lustfully. Pulling me out of my daze. He takes a haul off his joint, pressing his lips against her mouth, sharing his smoke. Her hands rest on his chest, just like she does to mine. My ring shines on her finger, just a casual reminder that she’s mine. Cam ashes out the joint on my bedframe before returning his attention to Y/n. He cups her lace-clad tits in his large hands. I lift my whiskey to my lips, taking a sip. Cam’s hands work down Y/n’s back, landing on her ass. He works his hands slowly over her soft skin, giving her a little spank making Y/n moan in response.

“Fuck me,” I huff, adjusting myself in my seat. Cam pushes her to sit. Y/n looks up at him hungrily. She spreads her legs wide as Cam moves to his knees. Reaching up, Cam takes hold of the straps of Y/n’s bra, pulling each side down making her breasts bounce out.

He releases a hungry moan at the sight of her, making her blush and smile. Cam’s mouth meets Y/n skin, sucking on her nipple while his hand works on the other side, pinching and rolling her blushed skin between his fingers. Y/n throws her head back, moaning loudly, pleasure coursing straight to my cock. “Holy fuck, baby,” I groan as I hold back the temptation to join… Just gotta give ‘em a minute. Cam slides her panties to the side, lowering his mouth to her pussy. I flick my wrist, fixing my watch, catching the time.

“Fuck, Cam,” y/n whines as his tongue meets her heat. There it is… Shit. I down the rest of my drink. God, it’s like snortin’ a line. That high of hearing a woman moan like that’s too fuckin good. Cam licks a line up to her clit, his hand working higher on her legs, disappearing between my girl’s thighs.

I can hear Cam’s fingers darting quickly, driving in and out rapidly. Y/n grips the back of his buzzed head, forcing him closer. He slows his pace, making her lift her head off the pillow. She looks down at him desperately, still too unfamiliar to plead with him to speed up. I know what my girl likes. She would have already been grippin’ the sheets. Callin’ out for me. Rookie mistake.

I rise from my chair, walking toward her slowly as Cam continues to play. Y/n looks at me; lashes fluttering as he changes his approach, curling his thick fingers in her pussy. I mount the bed, moving toward her slowly. Y/n reaches for me before I can even get at her, pulling me to her lips. Her sweet tongue rolls with mine, plush lips brushing as I catch her soft moans. “Tell him what you want, princess. C’mon,” I mumble against her lips.

“Faster,” she whimpers against my lips.

“Louder.”

“Faster,” Y/n moans loudly, the sounds of her pleasure making me feel like I could bust right then and there.

“Atta girl.” Cam works her pussy quicker, the wet squelching of her cunt fills the room as her back starts to arch off the bed. “Mmm… Like that?”

“Just like that,” she cries.

“You gonna cum, baby?” I ask.

“Mmpf… Y-Yeah. I’m gonna cum.” Her voice cracks, already hoarse from her cries. “Fuck, Cam.” She bucks her hips, but my brother doesn’t let up, holding her in place, working her through her orgasm as Y/n moans and cries.

Cam licks another line up her pussy, swirling his tongue, kissing her clit. He looks up at me, chin glistening with my girl’s slick, a smug smile tugs on his lips. I give him a smirk, tapping on my watch face, completely unimpressed, making him suck his teeth and roll his eyes. His demeanor changes as he crawls toward Y/n, softening completely as he looks into her half-lidded eyes.

She’s so fucking beautiful…

Reader’s POV:

“Come’ere,” Rafe groans, reaching out for you. His eyes roam your curves as you walk his way. “How ya doin’, princess?” He smiles as he wraps his strong arm around your waist. “This okay? You’re not just doin’ it for me. Are ya?” You shake your head. ‘No,’ Rafe responds with a sinful smile. “Take off my shirt, baby.” You pinch the bottom of his white v-neck, drawing it off his muscular body before tossing it to the floor. You wrap yourself up in his arms, taking in the familiar scent of your boyfriend.

Rafe’s lips meet your neck, kissing you roughly, marking you with his lips. He kisses his way to your ear, swirling and tugging on your lobe, breathing soft and slow, making you throb below. ”How are you so sexy?“ Rafe hums, making you moan needily for more. Rafe’s fingers drift into your hair, pulling you even closer. You reach down, stroking your hand over his clothed cock. ”You ready, baby?“ You bite your lip and nod, meeting his beautiful blue eyes. “My girl,” he chuckles lustfully; his praise making your heart pound. “You gonna be a good girl for us?” He hums as he latches onto your skin again, sucking down on your pulse point, feeling your racing heart.

“Yes, daddy,” you moan.

“Good answer… Take care of my brother. Yeah?”

“Yeah-” Before you can even say anymore, you’re whisked away by Cam, his lips colliding with yours in a passionate kiss. You slip the tips of your fingers under the elastic of his boxers, excitement building as you think back to the bar, remembering how it felt as you danced together.

Drawing back slightly, your eyes follow the indentations of his chiseled v-lines to his thick cock. Cam gives you a gentle smile, sensing your nerves. “We’ll go slow. Alright?” His fingers hook under your chin, his thumb rubbing along your jaw. You give him a little nod, returning your focus as you drag the material the rest of the way to the floor. He’s big. Almost as long as Rafe, no curve, thick and veiny: his pink swollen head, leaking at the tip. You grip him in your hand, swirling your tongue around his cock, collecting his prerelease.

“Shit,” you hear Rafe groan, looking back in his direction. He’s relaxed on the chair again, thighs spread wide; nothing left on his body but a smirk. It’s almost impossible to tear your focus away from Rafe as you take him in. He lifts his hand to his rosy lips, spitting on his palm, guiding your attention even lower. Your guide falls from his muscular chest to his tight stomach, his long, heavy cock now resting in his fist. Rafe uses his spit as lube, stroking slowly. His eyes roll back as you echo his movements on Cam. Rafe’s brother moans, tossing his head back to the ceiling. You stand up, continuing to palm his cock.

“I’ll do whatever you want, daddy,” you breathe, watching as a smile spreads on Cam’s lips. He steals the words off your tongue, taking your breath away. Cam reaches for you, drawing you even closer.

”Fuck. Call me daddy again,“ he mumbles between kisses as he peels your thong off your hips.

”Daddy,“ you whisper, scratching your fingers through his hair. Cam moans for you, taking a tighter grip on the plush of your hips.

“Mmm… And you’ll do whatever daddy wants?”

“Anything daddy wants, daddy get…”

”Suck my cock, baby girl.“ Cam wraps his hands around the back of your neck, forehead resting against yours. “Just for a bit… Then, I’m gonna fuck that pretty pussy. Shit. I bet you’re so tight, so fucking wet…” Cam guides two fingers between your thighs, gathering your essence on his fingers; cock twitching as he gets his answer. He brings his lips to his fingers, sucking them clean. ”Fuck. You’re sweet.“

Cam presses you toward the bed, knees buckling when you hit the side of the mattress, falling to your back. You crawl to the headboard as Cam continues to kiss you hungrily, tongue rolling with yours. He wraps his arms tightly around your body, moving you onto his chest.

You lean down, kissing his flushed cheeks. Moving a little lower on the bed, your lips meet his neck, hands gripping his muscular chest. You shift between his thighs, dragging your nails down his body, tracing your fingers around his cock as Rafe watches on with a smirk. Cam runs his tongue along his bottom lip as yours glides along the underside of his length, swirling around the tip, making him release a deep moan, throwing his head onto the pillow.

Cam’s large hands quickly find the back of your head, gathering your hair in a makeshift pony so he can get a better look. You wrap your lips around his thick tip, sucking gently, making his brows furrow, eyes shutting softly. Sinking low, you take as much of him as you can, spit seeping out of the corners of your lips already at his sheer girth.

”Fuckkk…“ He draws out the word, thigh muscles tightening under your hands as you deep throat his cock, choking on his shaft again and again. ”Mmm… Fuck. Rafe’s got you trained, baby. Shit,” he mutters. “Keep doin’ that.” You feel another touch. Rafe… His fingers glide through your hair at the nape as he leans in, lips brushing your ear as you continue to suck.

“We made a little bet, baby girl. Who could get you off the quickest,” Rafe groans. His other hand cracks against your ass, making you release a whiny gasp. “You think I’m gonna win? How well do you think I know this pussy, princess?” His large palms circle the fullness of your ass. “Shit…” He groans, drawing out the word as his hand meets your pussy. His arm reaches further around your hip, fingers skimming your ass, reaching as far as he can, the tips of his fingers swirling your arousal dipping into your entrance outlined.

Rafe reaches down, pushing you where he wants you. He thrusts his hips, rolling his body against yours, his rock-hard cock nestled between your thighs. You can feel the chill of the slick between your legs, making you release an eager whimper. “Need you, Rafe,” you whine, gasping as you come up for air. Cam grabs a mess of your hair, pushing you back down on his cock as Rafe tortures you with a few more hindered thrusts.

“Gonna get you good ‘n ready for my cock, baby girl,” Rafe groans as he takes hold of your curves, spreading your ass cheeks slightly. Rafe draws his hand back, slapping your bum; a satisfying clap cracks through the room. He snares your hips, towing you closer. You relax your body a little more, the sway of your spine deepening. Rafe’s rough fingers meet your clit, making you release a throaty moan onto Cam’s cock. “Such a pretty pussy,” Rafe groans as he works a little further back, toying with your entrance, running his fingers through your sticky folds before slapping your cunt. “Always so wet for me.”

“All from suckin’ my cock,” Cam grunts. You can hear the wavering in Cam’s voice as his thighs start to tremble.

Rafe starts to play with your pussy as Cam watches you put in work on his cock. “You’re gonna swallow my cum,” Cam moans the words, relishing each one. “You gonna let me stretch out your pussy? Fill you up? Hmm?” You answer with a gag, humming and hallowing your cheeks, creating a suction that makes Cam grip your hair tighter. “Gonna cum… Shit. So good at sucking cock. I’m gonna – Fuck-” His cum spurts down your throat as he moans your name, hips jostling, shuddering in overstimulation as you continue to suck. ”Goddamn, Y/n,“ Cam laughs through his panting breaths as you suck off his throbbing dick, cleaning on your lips with your finger before sucking it clean. “Fuck… I’m obsessed with you. You’re so perfect, baby,” he mumbles as he lowers himself on the mattress, one with your lips. ”I always wanted a girl like you, Y/n,“ he whispers. ”So fucking beautiful. Every part of you. Too bad my brother gotcha first.”

“That’s right,” Rafe rasps. His rough palm glides down your body, pressing down on your hip, causing you to widen your thighs. “You’re gonna be okay. A’ight, princess? I’ll go nice and slow.”

“Our girls gonna love it,” Cam mumbles against your lips. His tongue slips through your parted lips as Rafe rubs his thumb over your taut hole using your slick as lube, adding a little more, running a line of spit down, making you release a little gasp. Rafe circles a little quicker before pressing it inside, making you clutch Cam’s biceps.

“Good?” Rafe hums.

“So fucking good,” you moan. Rafe draws his finger out, pulling out a moan from your trembling lips. He presses against you again, his pointer finger replacing his thumb.

“Want me to keep goin’?”

“Yes. Fuck, Rafe… Don’t stop,” you whimper. You watch as Rafe wraps his fist around his dick as well. Your entire body starts to throb, your heart banging in your chest as he pumps his long cock at the same tempo as his finger, working in and out of you. A bead of precum drips from his swollen tip onto the comforter below. You feel heat spread across your already hot skin as he answers your question. His fat cockhead presses against your entrance, making your fingers claw into Cam’s flesh, eyes squeezed as Rafe glides his dick in your pussy. “O-Oh, Rafe. I- Mmm...” Cam grabs your cheeks, drawing you to his lips as Rafe sinks balls deep, the skin of his body pressed against yours, making you cry out. Rafe lets you adjust to his size and the new sensation before rocking into you at a familiar tempo, working his fingers in tandem with his thrusts. “Oh my god,” you gasp in ecstasy as he adds another finger, filling you fuller than before.

“Jesus Christ,” he huffs. Rafe curls his digits inside your ass, pumping both a little quicker, making you tighten around him more. “Feels so good, Y/n… Shit,” he pants between ruts.

“So good,” you cry. Rafe palms the arch of your ass with his other hand, spanking your cheek before gliding it forward, forcing your body a little lower. He feeds off your whines and moans, searching for that perfect angle to send you over the edge.

“Right there,” you cry between kisses.

“Yeah, baby?”

“Faster,” you snivel.

“Fuck, Y/n.”

”Harder,“ you plead through quivering lips. His hand takes a grip on your ass; rough thrusts with his fingers and cock making your body weak. ”Gonna cum.“

”Mmm… Squeezin’ me so tight. S-Shit,“ he stammers. You scream out his name, pussy fluttering around his length as you cum harder than you ever have before. Your toes curl tight, head falling onto the crook of Cam’s neck as you flood Rafe’s cock with your release. Your lashes beat to a close, muscles settling around him as his fingers pull out of your ass. ”Mmm…“ Rafe growls from behind you as his hand rounds your hips. He grinds his cock slowly, just rough enough to make the plush of your ass recoil.

”Felt so good, Rafey,“ you mewl in exhaustion, feeling his hand sail up the bend of your spine, raking into your hair. You gasp as Rafe yanks you off Cam’s chest, pulling you to his.

“Looks like I’m a winner, bitch,” Rafe claps back to Cam.

“No fuckin’ way,” Cam sneers.

“Hey, don’t be a sore loser. I know this pussy like the back of my hand. A’int that right, princess?”

“Yes, daddy,” you pant breathlessly.

“Think you can handle my cock, champ? You’re lookin’ pretty tired… Bet two’s outta the question. Huh?” He teases.

“Fuck that,” Cam chuckles. You release another gasp as Cam’s thumb finds your clit rubbing slow circles on top. “I’m gettin’ this pussy one way or the other.”

“Please, daddy… I want you both so bad,” you plead. Rafe smiles, using his grip on your hair to turn your head, planting a rough kiss on your lips.

“Anything for you, Y/n. Now sit on his cock, baby.”

Cam clasps your hips, hovering you over his dick. You reach between your thighs, taking him in your grasp, swirling him through your sopping folds. The tip of his cock presses against your pussy, making your whole body tremble. Your fingers clunch into your thighs as you sink on the first few inches, pausing to adjust to his size.

“You’re so f-fucking – mmm… You’re squeezing me so tight, baby. Shit,” Cam babbles. Cam pitches his hips, filling you to the brim, causing you to squeal and fall back onto Rafe. “Mmm… Couldn’t help myself, baby. Sorry,” he groans as his large hands hold your waist, not letting you move away.

“S-So big,” you whimper.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” Rafe whispers against your hot skin. “You gonna be a good girl and let me fuck you too, or is it too much?”

“Fuck me.”

Your body shakes in anticipation as he presses his tip against your second hole. “You ready, Y/n?” He hums.

“Yes,” you moan as you drop down slightly on Cam’s cock, inhaling sharply as his head enters you. Cam’s eyes plead with you to keep going, the desperation on his face encouraging you to take him deeper. “Shit. Holy shit!” You whine as you feel Rafe coax himself in as well. There’s a sting of pain, a slight discomfort as you work yourself even lower on Cam. You feel yourself becoming more and more full. Pressure building in your stomach; cries of pleasure free falling from your lips.

“Princess?” Rafe’s voice brings your gaze back to him. “You okay? Does it hurt?” He asks gently, moving closer than before.

“Yeah… But, fuck. J-Just. Fuck. Don’t stop.”

Rafe laughs and shakes his head. “You like that, Y/n? Shit… Our girl’s a little slut for pain, buddy?” He mumbles, lips brushing your shoulder. Your mouth drops open, eyes fluttering shut immediately as you feel both of them bottom you out.

“Gonna move now...” Cam hums. His teeth bite down on his kiss-bitten lip as he begins to thrust up into you. His fingertips dig into your skin as Rafe starts thrusting as well.

“Just a little whore for Cameron cock,” Rafe hisses, making Cam let out a breathless laugh.

”Fucking hell...“ You moan as they both begin to move in tandem, your whines and cries causing them to speed up. Cam fucks you from below as Rafe drives into you from above, both dying to bring you to your climax. Tears fill your eyes as they slam into you again and again.

”You’re taking us so well, baby. So fuckin’ well,“ Rafe praises. You try to speak, but you can’t focus on anything; every part of you numb with pleasure.

”Mmm. She loves us filling her up. She is so dumb on cock she can’t speak. Our poor little baby,” Cam rasps.

“Harder…” You pant breathlessly.

“Oh yeah, baby?” Rafe grunts, pistoning his hips, skin cracking against your ass as Cam drives his heels into the mattress fucking you from below.

“H-Harder!” You wail, nails clawing into the fronts of Rafe’s thighs, making him moan.

“Fuck, Y/n,” Rafe grunts. The two of them moan and groan and pleasure. Your vision blurs as Rafe’s hand clamps down around your throat, making your eyes cross. You hit your crescendo, reaching your highest high as you cry out for the both of them, back to back, one after the other, over and over. You feel Rafe’s body tremble, the warmth of his release filling you as Cam’s fingers brush along your clit.

“Keep doing that,” you whimper.

“Mmm… This?” Cam groans, working his digits a little faster, eyes locked on your pussy, watching as you make a wet mess on his lap. You fall into Cam’s arms, grinding slowly. The two of you move together, thighs sticky with your release. You start to lose your tempo in exhaustion. Rafe catches your hips guiding you as you roll on Cam’s cock, slamming you deep. “Shit… I’m almost there, baby,” Cam breathes. His fingers drift through your hair, tugging hard. “You’re my girl. Yeah? Gonna let me cum inside you?” He pleads, lips brushing against yours.

“Mmm… I’m your girl. Need it. Please.” Cam’s eyes slam shut, mouth falling open as he pins you in place, flooding you with his cum.

“Fuck, Y/n… Oh shit,” he cries. Rafe comes down on top of you, covering your body with his, lips connecting, kissing your neck and your shoulders anywhere and everywhere he can reach.

“I love you,“ he whispers. “Fuck, baby. I love you so much.”

”I love you, Rafey.”

Late that night…

You bite down on your bottom lip, eyes rolling back, toes curling tight as you try to contain the pleasure building inside. A muffled moan slips your lips, causing you to cut off the noise with the palm of your hand as you use the other to grip Rafe’s dirty blonde hair. The bed shifts beside you as Cam sleeps soundly.

Rafe’s finger swirls around your entrance, the buzz of a hum grazing against your clit. You lift the covers as Rafe’s eyes flick to yours, his beautiful face buried between your thighs. His fingers curl, finding your sweet spot, making your mouth fall slack as you let out a choked cry.

A part of you wants to moan a little louder. The greedy girl in you wanting to wake up Cam as well, but you can tell that’s not what Rafe wants. Rafe wants you all to himself. He slows his pace, adding a third finger instead, making your thighs widen, back arching off the bed. You feel a familiar heat building in your core, warmth spreading across your body.

“Fuck, baby. Lemme see your ass,” Rafe groans, nipping at the plush of your inner thigh. He grabs your hips, flipping you on the mattress before lifting your hips in the air. You arch your back a little further, giving him access to your pussy as kisses your ass and thighs.

Rafe starts to eat you out from the back, drowning himself in your wet cunt as you claw the sheets. His tongue plunges into your entrance, causing you to bury your face in your pillow, quieting yourself.

The coil in your stomach starts to tighten along with your pussy around Rafe. His trained fingers rub figure eights on your clit, tongue sweeping your G-spot again and again.

“S-Shit,” you hiss the word out as he pinches your clit, tongue fucking you ruthlessly. You move away in overstimulation, but Rafe pulls you back, keeping you in place. His tongue swirls around your entrance, collecting your arousal, moaning into your cunt; fingers delighting your clit. Your bottom lip quivers as Rafe licks a fat stripe up your pussy. You cry into the pillow, fingers twisting in the fabric, using the textile to dampen your sounds.

“Rafe,” you pant breathily as your orgasm casts through your body. Your muscles clench tight; teeth gritted as you ride the waves of your bliss, pussy, fluttering around his fingers. Your ears ring; everything in the room falls out of earshot. He rolls you to your back, claiming your lips.

“I get you last… I always get you last,” Rafe whispers breathlessly against your kiss.

“Always.”

Rafe clears his throat, his face a mess of emotion as his eyes stare into yours. His rough finger brushes along your cheeks as he struggles to find the words, but they’re hard. “Princess…”

“Baby…”

“I’ve never felt like this before,” he presses out the words.

“Like what, Rafe?” You ask gently as you lean in, kissing his lips, feeling him melt at your touch. He nuzzled in a little closer, pushing his naked body against yours.

“I’m a little jealous,” he whispers weakly.

“Rafe-”

“Wait,” he stops you before you can scold him, shaking his head ‘no.’ “I’m the one that wanted this to happen. And I loved it… Watchin’ you like that, baby… It was a fuckin’ fantasy. A’ight? But, Cam, that fucker was enjoyin’ it a little too much for my liking,” he sneers as he glances over your shoulder at his brother. “I’ve just never felt like this about anyone; loved anyone like I love you, princess.”

“I love you, Rafe,” you answer earnestly, pleading with him to believe you even after tonight. It’s hard to deny the chemistry. You couldn’t lie to Rafe and say that he was wrong about Cam.

“I know, baby. I know you love me,” he mumbles as he rests his forehead against yours.

“We don’t have to do that ever again,” you soothe even though it pained you to say. “I won’t talk to Cam. I-”

“Baby girl,” he whispers. “Not necessary. A’ight? And it is happening again. I just want to make sure you really know who you belong to.” Your heart patters as he confirms what you were hoping he would. He wants this to happen again. The three of you together wasn’t just a one-time thing. You do your best to fix your face, not wanting to act too excited… I mean, he could call it off ultimately.

“I belong to you, Rafe Cameron,” you assure as you lift your leg, wrapping it over his body. Rafe takes hold of your ass, palming your curves as he looks down at you lovingly. “I already talked to Cam. Told him that I didn’t want him talkin’ to you without me.”

“Oh… What did he say?” You whisper.

“He said, ‘We’re cool. He understands. He knows you’re mine and that he never questioned it. Just told me I don’t have anything to worry about. I know that. Got nothin’ to worry about when it comes to you, honey-”

“You don’t, Rafey. M’all yours.”

“And I’m yours, princess.”

One week later…

“Fuck. I’m gonna miss you,” Rafe hums against your lips, arms wrapped lazily around your hips. He paws at your ass, lifting the bottom of his old t-shirt, hands resting on your bare skin.

“You’re gonna do so good, baby.” You rise on your tippy toes, meeting Rafe’s lips. “Can’t wait to watch you play.”

“Mmm… I’ll call you right after. And, if we make it to Nationals, you’re coming with me. A’ight? M’Nothing without my lucky charm.”

“I’m your lucky charm?” You smile, your cheeks burning from your smile as Rafe lifts you to his level, standing straight.

“‘Course you are. I’m gonna be missing my pregame ritual, my post-game ritual… What am I gonna do without you,” he mumbles, face buried in your neck.

“Rafey,” you chuckle lightly, drawing his beautiful blues to yours before brushing his dirty blonde bangs back. “Call me when you get back to the hotel, and we can FaceTime…”

“Yeah?” He chuckles giddily as he smushes his lips against yours.

“Mhmm… Then, we can pick a movie and not watch it like we usually do.

“Shittt, baby,” he groans as he tosses his head back slightly. “I love the sound of that.” Rafe turns over his shoulder, looking toward the door as one of his teammates blares his car horn. He lets out a little annoyed grumble, returning his attention to you. “Wish me luck?”

“Mmm…” You kiss him against, lips lingering with his. “Good luck, baby.”

“My girl… This bus ride is long as shit. Phone on. A’ight? I’m gonna be bored as fuck,” he bitches as he tugs on his team jacket before looping his duffle bag over his shoulder.

“Promise,” you smile, holding the door as he passes through. Rafe steals three more kisses before bounding toward the Wrangler. You stand at the doorframe, watching as he hops in the passenger’s seat. Your phone buzzes in your pocket already, making you smile.

Your cheeks blush as you look at the little thumbnail on your screen, Rafe’s ring-adorned hand wrapped tightly around your neck. You look up toward the car, watching as it pulls out of the driveway. Rafe gives you a smile and a wink before peeling out onto the main road.

The notification at the top of your phone catches your attention, making your heart stop.

Fuck.

#rafeyscurtainbangs library 📚#rafe cameron #outer banks #rafe #obx #rafe cameron smut #rafe smut #rafe x fem!reader #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe x reader smut #rafe x Reader #rafe cameron one shot #rafe fanfiction

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emo-batboy · 1 year ago

Text

Things Battinson Totally Did During His First Year of University

Using Unhinged or Odd Things I Also Did as a College Freshman :D

Note: for this list, let’s believe Bruce was living in an (admittedly expensive and swanky) dorm because it is required for first-years, especially those entering at a young age, and Alfred told him he needed to make friends. Also yes I did every single thing on this list. I never claimed to be a role model

Bruce, to his TA: I’m so sorry I’m late to class. I gave blood a few hours ago and almost fainted on the way here, but it won’t happen again.

Signs up for a class called “Age of Dinosaurs” despite it not being required whatsoever and proceeds to work his entire schedule around it

Bruce: Your mental health is super important. If you think you should see the on-campus therapist, go see them. Friend: Fine. I’ll sign up for therapy if you sign up for therapy too. Bruce: Hold on-

Finds a loophole in his housing contract that allows him to get a pet frog, calls him kermit :)

Gets a second frog because Kermit was lonely, names it Constantine after Muppets Most Wanted, then realizes that they’re gay for each other. Wonders if the rainbow-colored rocks he got them triggered anything

Swings dramatically between calling Alfred every single day and ghosting him for weeks, cries when he realizes what he did

“Accidentally” joins the student body council, doesn’t know what he’s doing, gets re-elected anyway

Molds a dragon out of Laffy Taffy instead of doing his work

Bruce: *joins Honors, gets all A’s, takes the max amount of classes, has several minors, overachieves* Also Bruce: I’m a failure.

Breaks into a building after hours to study because NO ONE KNOWS HOW TO SHUT THE FUCK UP AT THE LIBRARY

Bruce: I will not get seasonal depression this year. Bruce: *gets real and seasonal depression that year*

Meticulously schedules his day with a color-coded planner because if he sits down for too long, the thoughts will consume him

Gives a presentation to his rhetoric class on how much he likes Spider-Man: Into the Spiderverse (it is 20 minutes long)

Successfully allocates funding from the student body council to pay for free feminine products in the dorms OUT OF SPITE because someone said it couldn't be done. fuck you, Andrew

Bruce: It is not an all-nighter if I go to sleep before my first class. Friend: It is 7:30am, the sun is in the sky, and your first class is at 12:30. Bruce: But I am getting sleep.

Refuses to go anywhere without his backpack because what if he needs three notebooks at once

Loses over 20 pounds because ✨stress✨ and scares the shit out of Alfred when he comes home for Thanksgiving

Argues with his TA over the one (1) question he got wrong on his Dinosaur exam

Bruce, calling Alfred: Hello father figure. How do I do taxes? Do I have to do them myself? Also, I think I’m having a panic attack.

Joins in on a charity arts-and-crafts project that gives kids books with matching activities made by volunteers, proceeds to commandeer the project because “it’s not color-blind friendly” and rewrites the instructions for everyone

Makes a murder wall

Goes to one (1) sports game and proceeds to leave in the first ten minutes because it’s way too loud wtf is wrong with people

Professor, addressing the lecture hall: I dare you to write an essay about these two sentences. Bruce: *writes an essay about six words, gets a 100, never even read the book*

Crawls into the ceiling for some alone time

Ghosts someone after a date because he’s too scared to tell them he didn’t know it was a date in the first place and now he feels bad

Classmate: How tf does he walk across campus that fast? I go in the same direction he does on my bike, and he’s always ahead of me. Bruce: *is gay sprinting to Dinosaur class*

Refuses to let others use his Favorite Pen TM

Constantly gets mistaken for a Grad Student because he is “so wise and mature” (bestie, that’s the autism)

Alfred: *casually mentions he got into a car accident through text* Bruce: *replies with a meme while hyperventilating because he doesn’t know what to do with that information??!*

Wears a suit to one of his finals

Regularly eats non-organic food for the first time in his life, proceeds to learn about several allergies Alfred forgot to mention he has

Writes “What is a Hot Pocket?” in calligraphy and proceeds to laugh his ass off alone in his dorm because he is so exhausted he’s reached the point of delusion

Locks himself out of his dorm right before class, frantically asks the floor group chat if someone can help, proceeds to tell the nice gay man on the floor who saved him “I love you” because his social skills have hit rock bottom

Makes a little music album display next to his desk for his favorite band (Nirvana) His friends call it a shrine, and they are technically correct

Has a blacklist of people he refuses to interact with because Reasons

Counselor: What do you want to do when you graduate? Bruce: *gestures vaguely*

Refuses to take the bus because there are people in there and he doesn’t like those

Loses one of his frogs, how tf did he do that, they’re fully aquatic, oh fuck, this is probably why they got rid of that loophole a year later because unbeknownst to Bruce, he accidentally started a frog revolution in the dorms, btw he SWEARS he did not mean to do that

Has two trash cans in his room: one for the Good Garbage, and one for the Bad Garbage. Only Bruce knows which is which

Bruce: *writes a creative piece about a ship’s final thoughts as it sinks, bringing its passengers down with it* TA: Absolutely lovely, Bruce, but are you okay?

Goes on Night Walks, keeps himself safe by maintaining a level 12 resting bitch face at all times

Earns the nickname “8th floor cryptid” after pacing the halls at 3am when it’s too cold for Night Walks (honestly tho how tf didn’t he get the nickname earlier?)

Bruce: Do you think a depressed person could do this? Bruce: *has a manic episode*

Okay that's all love you BYE

#cryptid Bruce Wayne #college au #does this count if op is the au #fully nocturnal unhinged madman Bruce but make him like 17 and full of crippling separation anxiety and autism #bruce would rather die than inconvenience a professor but hE KNOWS HIS DINOSAURS #Dino class was my fav one in uni hands down #yes i am insane thank you for asking #originally this was just going to be a normal list but I kept taking from my own experience then said “fuck it I'm the captain now”#one of these was a lie tho...the murder wall was third year :/#battinson #bruce wayne #batman #the batman 2022 #batman 2022 #the batman #battinson needs a hug #dc universe #gotham #autistic bruce wayne

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paracosmic-murdock · 1 year ago

Text

these colors fade for you only ; benedict bridgerton x reader (part i)

pairing: benedict bridgerton x fem!reader

summary: one thing worse than seeing your enemy often was living under the same roof, certainly, and you and benedict suffered from that unfortunate condition. not even the eleven years you've slept separated by a thin wall only helped you overcome that hatred, you would always hate each other. or not really, because it's too definite to say something as such when a few hours could change the meaning of until the end of time.

warnings/tags: enemies to lovers, sexual tension, very inappropriate behavior for the 1810s, colin bridgerton being a little shit, two people who hate each other locked in a room, what could possibly go wrong?, nude paintings, implied smut, song: sunlight (hozier)

word count: 3.2K

❁ part ii

❁ mila's anthology (main masterlist)

One thing about Benedict Bridgerton is how you could ruin even the best of days for him.

One thing about you is how much you loved to make him mad and see the frustration on his face.

Another thing about Benedict Bridgerton is how pathetically obsessed he was with insulting you in any chance he gets.

Another thing about you is how you were willing to do absolutely anything to bother him or tease him.

You acted like children: always arguing, always making fun of each other, always making everyone at Bridgerton House completely insane with your bickering the entire day.

One thing was having to see your enemy often. One way worse was living under the same roof.

Eleven years ago, your parents had an accident, and you have lived with the Bridgertons ever since, as your mother was Violet Bridgerton's best friend since childhood.

Devastated for years, you accompanied the Bridgertons in their grief for Edmund, which was what ultimately gave you strength to go on with your life. All of you.

But that was the very same thing that ignited your rivalry with the second Bridgerton: your enthusiasm would collide with his mourning and harsh words coming out of his mouth you had no will to tolerate.

It began with his insults to you, though you knew he didn't mean to be rude, and it was all his grief doing the talk. When you couldn't tolerate it anymore, you started insulting him back.

Then, Benedict would play pranks that went too far, and you would burn his sketches in the chimney.

Benedict started sabotaging any chance you could get to find a suitor and you would spread silly rumors about his performance in the bedroom with his friends from the Academy.

Thanks to his efforts, not even being named Diamond of the Season was enough for you to find a husband, which was already making you feel like a failure, not to mention a burden to the Bridgertons. Benedict's fault also.

“Anthony, has he come back?”

He gave you a pitiful look. “I am sorry, Y/N, but I spoke to Lord Raeken to ask him his intentions, and he said he was not interested in marrying you.”

“What?” You gasped. “But everything was going so well! He- he invited us for dinner last week! His mother and Aunt Violet befriended each other even!”

“You will not like what I am going to say.” Anthony anticipated, and you already knew whose fault it was.

“It was Benedict?! Again?!”

Anthony nodded. “I talked to him… It was a threat. He said he would fix it, and I promise you that Lord Raeken will propose to you. If not, he is not worthy of you, and that is all.”

“Nobody is worthy of me, then? He… ruined it with the Duke of Sussex, with Lord Leclerc, with the Count-, I… Why does he keep doing this, Anthony?” You whimpered. You didn't even notice when you started crying, but before anything happened, he hugged you tightly. “Has he not tormented me enough already?”

The eldest Bridgerton knew all too well of your inner motives to hate each other, but decided not to meddle in your war anymore unless it was a case as delicate as this.

“Promise me you will not ruin his latest painting, Y/N,” he begged. “I am trying to work on a peace accord between the two of you, so as long as you stop doing things to him, he will stop messing with you.”

You sighed. “If I do not marry this season, I will have no other choice but to find a job as a governess.”

“Why do you even say that?” He frowned.

“Because it has been eleven years of you sponsoring me, and I believe that it is too much time.”

“You think you are a burden for us?” Anthony asked, and your silence answered. “The day you leave us will be one of the saddest for us Bridgertons, Y/N. You are like our sister, and we love you and care about you as such. Perhaps it has not worked before, but do you really believe that a man that loves you will let none other than Benedict intimidate him?”

“Gregory is more threatening than him,” you noted. “And those dimples could melt the coldest of hearts!”

Anthony smiled. “Do not think too much of it. We shall find you a husband before the season ends.”

“Alright.”

“Now go, I believe Colin is expecting you, and I have many things to do.”

“Sure thing.” you replied.

Once you were out of his office, you gathered the baby blue skirt and ran to Benedict's studio. There, you saw the painting Anthony begged you not to ruin.

It was a woman's naked figure, quite a graceful one. And it was beautifully portrayed.

It would be a shame for it to be ruined. Thank God you did not promise Anthony a thing.

It was still wet, so it was not difficult to use other colors and mix them with the paint so it would look different. You also spilled droplets of red and signed your name on the painting where he had his.

Then, you cleaned your hands and ran to the door.

“Colin!” you exclaimed, and he turned around. “We are going to find Benedict right now.”

He frowned, annoyed. “What happened now?”

“Lord Raeken won't marry me for something Benedict did. Now I must speak to him.”

“It is getting late. We will not get to the tailor in time if we go to Benedict first.”

“Please?” You begged Colin. “I can get on my knees if you wish, but please…”

Colin rolled his eyes. “Alright, let's- oh, there he is!”

You looked in the same direction as him and noticed Benedict getting home. He seemed mad, and your face lost all its life when you thought of what could happen when he saw his painting ruined by you.

“Let's get out of here, Colin…” you muttered once Benedict passed you without even saying hello.

“Why? Benedict is here if you wish to talk to him.”

“It might not be a great time right now…”

“Why?”

“Y/N, I swear to God!”

“Because…” You gave Colin a sheepish look at Benedict's scream.

“What did you do?”

“He started it!”

Colin rolled his eyes. “Did you-”

“Come inside right now!” Benedict yelled once he reached the door. “I am dead serious.”

You sighed, walking next to Colin. “He is going to kill me, Colin.”

“You do not know that.”

“I did something bad.”

“So did he.”

You pursed your lips. “Tell Daphne that only Francesca is a good fit to replace me as Auggie's godmother once I die.”

“Do not say that.”

“What on Earth were you thinking?!”

“What on Earth were you thinking?!” You mimicked him, anger coming to surface again as you reached his studio.

“This was an assignment for tomorrow morning!”

“Well, Lord Raeken was my whole future, Benedict!” you yelled back.

“Look at it! It is ruined!”

Colin was annoyed enough of your fights, and seeing the keys was enough for him to know there was only one solution.

So he did it and thought that you would either kill each other or make amends.

The third Bridgerton exited the room quietly and thanked your bickering for being distracting enough so you did not notice when he closed the door and locked it from outside.

“What are you doing?” Anthony asked when he saw Colin lock the door.

“Forcing those two to reconcile.”

The eldest brother chuckled. “Best of luck with that.”

“I know they will get over it,” he said, sitting on the floor next to the door. “I shall stay here even if it takes me the whole night.”

Anthony joined him. “This should be fun.”

“I do not care if it is ruined, Benedict… you can ruin my future but you draw a line at ruined paintings?!”

“Do you not know how important my career is for me?! You can find another suitor anytime!”

You groaned. “This is my third season, and I have not found a husband! I was the Diamond of my first Season, Benedict! And you have been ruining all of them for me!”

“I have not ruined anything. They simply are not a good fit for the family!”

“I am done listening to you.” You walked away from him and tried, in vain, to open the door.

After looking around, you noticed Colin was supposed to be in the room with you but he wasn't.

“Colin Bridgerton, open this door right now!” You banged the door, making him flinch. “Someone, open the door! We are locked in here!”

Benedict believed you simply weren't strong enough to open it, so he joined you trying to open it but couldn't while his brothers hid their laughter. He looked for the keys but couldn't find them either.

“Colin must have taken the keys,” he noted.

You sighed tiredly. “Somebody open the door! Please, we are trapped!”

“Open the door! Colin!”

“They will not let us out.” you told him.

“Perhaps we should just say we made amends and they will open the door.”

“Do you think he is an idiot? Only a fool would believe you and I could reach an agreement overnight, let alone the ten minutes we have been here.”

He groaned, giving up on escaping the room and returning to the conflict. “How are you so blind, Y/N? How can you fail to see that they are not right for the family?”

“I beg your pardon?! You do not even know them!”

“Is that so?” he questioned, getting closer to you. “Lord Leclerc, a widower who had lovers left and right while his late wife was terribly ill, the Duke of Sussex is a dull rat, and the Count had three illegitimate children by the time he set foot on Mayfair. They are not good people for us.”

“If that is what worries you so, I can leave forever after I marry!”

“Do you truly think this family will survive a week without seeing you? Mother is devastated at Daphne's absence… yours would kill her.”

You rolled your eyes. “We are not even a real family, are we? I am not related to you, I am a mere burden, so why do you not take any of them as your chance to get rid of me?”

“I did not mean that. Stop bringing it to the table each time it suits your purpose to manipulate me.”

“I could seriously kill you with my bare hands right now, Benedict…” you spoke, outraged. “What is it that I did for you to hate me so much?!”

“It is not worth talking about that now.”

“Why are you like this with me, Benedict? At this point, I would marry just about any man who could take me away from you.”

His heart skipped a beat. “We can't just let you marry anyone, alright?”

“Why do you even care?!”

“Because I cannot let you go with someone I do not trust…”

“What will it even take for you to trust any of them?”

“I could never trust them, Y/N, because I can't trust in someone who does not love you devotedly and absolutely.”

Your lips formed a line of disdain at his words. “How would you even know they don't if you do not give them the chance to truly get to me?”

“Because no one does.”

“Wow,” you laughed bitterly. “Thanks for reminding me how unlovable I am.”

“You do not understand, Y/N.”

“Explain it to me, then!” You asked, you begged him.

“No one does it like I do, my goodness!” he screamed, and you were sure it echoed through the whole floor.

You choked on your own spit at his confession, and at the other side of the door, Colin and Anthony looked at each other completely flabbergasted.

“We should leave.” Anthony whispered. “Unlock the door.”

Colin nodded. “I agree, we should let them out.”

Anthony nodded and left, but Colin was determined.

He certainly did not unlock the door.

“What?” you asked in almost a whisper.

Benedict seemed surprised at his own words, as if he had spoken from ignorance because… it couldn't be real, could it? He couldn't be in love with you.

“I…”

“Benedict…”

“You are my family,” he ‘corrected’ himself. “Conflict in families is not uncommon. It is fine. I care about you, and I… we do not want you to be the wife of a man that does not deserve you, Y/N. You are sunlight, and they are nothing but a gray sky.”

You breathed out shakily, looking at his blue eyes deeply, feeling like you had never seen such blue in your entire life. “I am sorry about your painting.”

“It is alright, I will try to fix it; maybe if Colin lets us out, I can go back to the Academy before it is too late. Find a model-”

“Is that what you need? A model?”

Benedict cleared his throat, guessing where it was going, though scared of it. “Yes, but it should not be difficult to find one at the Academy.”

“We will not be let out,” you reminded him and gave it all a careful thought.

You were aware it wasn't right. He was a man, and you were a woman who was not married to him. He must not see you naked under any circumstances, but again… he saved you from those men who weren't worth it, and you paid him by ruining his artwork. It was not fair, so you owed him.

You could break the rules a little. After all, you were locked in a room for God only knows how long.

So you nodded and started undressing. “I could model for you if that is what you need.”

“What? Do not, I-”

“What is the difference between that woman and I?”

Benedict's brain told him to stop you. It was definitely not right for a lady like you to be seen naked before marriage. Worse than that, be painted.

“Y/N…”

“Am I not interesting enough to paint, Benedict?” you questioned as your dress reached the floor. “I just wish to make up for what I did.”

You started undoing your corset under his careful eyes.

“If what worries you is my identity, I believe you could use the other model's face,” you added once the corset was discarded and your bosom fully exposed to him. “It is intact in your painting.”

“I am afraid your grace cannot be compared.”

You exhaled nervously when your shaking hands reached the beginning of your underpants. “Then make justice to it.”

Finally, you stood completely naked before him and didn't dare to be modest about it.

“Paint me.”

You walked to the couch and laid in a similar position as the model in his painting.

“I cannot ask that of you.” He tried one last time, gathering all the strength in his body… You were a lady, and he was a gentleman; no matter how rare that would be of him to stop you. It was not right, but what a sight he had before him.

“Then it is good that I offered.” you refuted.

He doubted for longer than he is willing to admit, but ultimately approached you with hesitant steps.

“Allow me,” he whispered as he reached you. You nodded, and he accommodated your head so you would be looking up at the ceiling and your hands to cover what could be seen of your face to his art's convenience delicately. His touch, hot, caused goosebumps on your skin. A gasp left your lips. “You truly are beautiful.”

“Thank you.” you mumbled.

Benedict returned to the canvas, telling himself he could do this.

He shouldn't.

But if your face wouldn't be seen, it would do no harm. Only you and him would know it's you.

A few hours had passed and the night had fallen. It was difficult to paint with the growing darkness hiding your features, so he left his piece for a second to find some candles.

Before he returned to the canvas, you spoke. “Am I doing it well?”

“You certainly are,” he praised you. “A natural indeed.”

You had goosebumps once again.

What is wrong with me?, you asked yourself.

How could Benedict, of all people, make you feel like this? How could he control the speed of your heartbeat with mere words? How could he turn your skin into a burning mess that acted as if it was freezing? How could he make your hands sweat each time he got closer? How could he make you forget how much you despised him after he said he loved you?

How did he love you? He said you were family, but he did not dare to call you a sister like his siblings always do. No, this was a different kind of love: the kind of love you read about in the romance novels you have stolen from his library, because that is the way you were feeling near his presence, under his stare, at his touch.

“Come here,” you commanded long before you thought what you would say. He complied, flying to you like a moth to a flame, but you were sunlight: billions of times more powerful, and you could consume him long before he dared to reach you. He felt like a moth with wigs made of wax, melting with each step that brought him close to you. Gladly. “How do you love me, Benedict?”

“What?”

It was unbelievable that a man of words like him could act so clueless, but there he was. Oblivious to your passion, not to mention his.

“I have always been your Mama's daughter and your brothers and sisters' sister. But I have never been yours,” you mentioned. “Why, if you love me so?”

“Y/N…” His hand caressed your face, and you took the other to put it on your left breast where he could feel your heart beating.

“Kiss me if what my beating heart says about your love is true.” It was an order, and that heart of yours was certainly right.

And right then, he knew he was careless of his own insignificance. He would fly as high as the melting wax allowed him to and fall as deep into the ocean as his own weight imposed.

He could drown and disappear, live and die for this moment. For all the frustration that has haunted him all those years of loathing and yearning. For his sunlight, for you.

He kissed you, and you returned the kiss as if your lips had ever touched others before.

They haven't.

They shouldn't.

But they are now.

It was an angry kiss. Wet, carnal, breathless, hot, feral, everything.

His lips did not caress yours or danced with yours, no; they fought and devoured yours, and you gave in.

It was exquisite but depraved in a way you couldn't bring yourself to explain, and you absolutely loved it.

Once the kiss ended, you were the first to talk. “Take it all off.”

He breathed out, nerves he does not recall to have ever felt scared his determination away.

He felt as pathetic as those men he threatened to ruin if they were to set foot in the same room as you ever again, and he took off his clothes with the urgency of a task set by the scary educator of his childhood.

You looked at him, took it all in, and gave him space to lay beside you.

“It's just us, Benedict…” you let out, your breath blending with his. “You can love me now.”

His cue.

#benedict bridgerton #bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton x reader #bridgerton #benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton smut #benedict bridgerton imagine #bridgerton imagine

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ab4eva · 1 month ago

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‘The Three of Us: ‘Tis The Damn Season’

Fully co-authored with mon petite chou @therealslimshakespeare 🩷 (& all credit to her for this gorgeous new moodboard!)

Notes: Happy new year babes! Our endless thanks and appreciation to all of you who have kept the love for these three alive with screams and reads and notes and who have inspired us to churn out some of the horniest shit imaginable. We hope you love this installment and please come and scream to us about it.

Warnings: All the sex, 18+ only

Word count: 8k

The Three of Us

The Three of Us: Brat Behavior

The past few months have been grand but far too busy. Or at least for Austin, workaholic that he is. You knew that he was dedicated and in a very crucial stage of establishing himself as one of the most respected and in demand actors of his generation but, the fact of it is, the holidays find you about as worrisomely detached from his hectic set-life as Callum is from the both of you an ocean away. There is FaceTime and the group chat and gifts sent back and forth and avid interest for each other’s success and fits of glumness, but the long stretch between last time all together has begun to wear, it’s a melancholy sort of missing of both of them and you long for the closeness. The easy way everything is so right when together.

Your mother and your girl friends are making proclamations these days, general platitudes about how a man who was serious about you would make this something more official after a year and a half of “casual” dating. And they’re right, if that’s what was still happening. To be fair, dating doesn’t seem to be what you’re doing anymore, you and Austin are so far beyond that despite the recent distance and added to it, Callum is as solidly a part of that seriousness that your head spins with what sort of talk is even needed to solidify something so utterly unorthodox and yet so crucial for your world to make sense. No one can know, not beyond the occasional snicker over espresso martinis about “the boys” and double innuendos about sharing that you can always laugh off in the sobriety of the morning after.

In this funk -which would be no funk at all if the ones you loved were simply near and life didn’t move too fast and work too slow- you find yourself in London in December. A work trip, but it’s left you feeling indulgent and more than a little mopey at the prospect of another fairy-light, snow-dusted, early December spent alone despite ostensibly being able to claim a boyfriend; and so you decide to stay over. You museum stroll, enjoy your favorite tea houses, explore the garden exhibitions, try your hand at photography on the various bridges. A text from Callum startles you out of your melancholy, asking if you “really came to London, stayed a few days, posted it on your Insta stories and ‘didn’t say shit’ to him about it.”

Chastened, and no longer deterred by the three avatar bubbles denoting each member of the group chat, you fire back apologies - a string of demure and pitiful emojis and inquiries as to how to make this slight better. There’s barely five seconds of typing ellipses before your sentence is read and responded to, Callum’s trademark eagerness coming through the phone so unequivocally that a wave of longing hits you out of nowhere and blooms bright in your chest.

Coffee and baguettes at Burhams, 4:00, Mumford and Sons playing at the Carlton at 7:00, so wear something sexy under the coat. But do bring a coat, it’s going to be frigid. He’ll schedule an uber if you give him your hotel address. And why the fuck aren’t you staying at his? See you tonight. Xx

To your credit, between the giddy smile on your face in anticipation of seeing him and the butterflies in your belly of having an evening that’ll finally match the jollity of everyone around your sad little self, you feel a tiny slither of doubt. You thumbs up his message, biting your lip in worry over how to reply, not that you don’t know what you want to say to him and how enthusiastically you intend to agree with his hijacking of your evening, but rather, an uneasy awareness of Austin’s presence in the chat. That very same presence that erases all the guilt of such a conversation, not that there should be any anyway, you’re all friends, but you find your fingers stall when you go to gush in approval of the plan as warmly as you intend.

Five whole minutes go by. Just your solitary and very unappreciative 👍 lingering there. It’s making it weird, you’re making it weird. This is how you’ve been all this season and you’re sick of it. Then another row of little dots appear, texting in progress. You hold your breath, melancholy and fond in expectation of Callum’s predictable ribbing over your moderation. But it’s under Austin’s name when the grey chat box slides into delivered. It’s simple, easy, a pink cheeks smile emoji at the end.

“Yeah, and wear tights with that coat, I know you. Tights can be sexy. Pneumonia isn’t ☺️.”

God you miss him. And it seems you’re going out with Callum tonight. You should overthink the pulsing bravery and excitement that takes over then, but you don’t. Because that’s a thing to be left behind with the loneliness at Christmastime when you’ve got people to love you.

“Look what the cat finally dragged in.” Callum’s familiar, husky drawl assaults you from behind and you can actually hear the smirk in his voice. You turn, a smile on your face that quickly fades when you see the wounded look of hurt in his eyes he’s desperately trying to hide with all of his casual bravado, and you realize all is not exactly forgiven yet. Lord, you’ve forgotten just how big he actually is. Has he always been this tall, this broad? Hands in his pockets now, he doesn’t immediately reach for you and your heart squeezes with the notion you’ve hurt him simply by being too in your feels about things lately. You should have called him the moment you landed and the guilt sits heavy as a stone in the pit of your stomach. This is Cal, your Cal! Not some random guy but your own lovely Englishman who means more to you and Austin than probably any other person on earth. Or close to it.

“Oh Cal…I…,” you falter, taking a deep breath and one step closer to him. You’re starting to shiver in this London chill and despite wearing tights like Austin told you to, you *also* wore something sexy (and short and not very warm at all), like Callum told you to. An arms length still separates you but you’re close enough now to feel the warmth radiating off his hulking form and you shiver again, crossing your arms over your body, as much for warmth as to fortify your strength. You’re half hoping he’ll jump in with his trademark ease, teasingly let you off the hook. Because how can you tell him all the reasons why you didn’t call. That he’s been on your mind day and night since you got here and you’ve been sleepwalking through London, half heartedly hoping to run into him at Camden Market or a museum or his favorite pub. And how can you tell him that you’re pretty sure you’re in love with him too, but how would that even work? It makes your brain hurt just thinking about it. What if he doesn’t feel the same? And Austin, oh god Austin, you love him so much it hurts and what would he think about it all? These cloudy thoughts swirl and clamor in your head, begging to be let out. But all you can do is stare at the grown man in front of you who looks for all the world like a little lost puppy.

Callum just stands there, blue eyes cold and distant, looking just over your shoulder, refusing to look at you. The hell with this, you can’t take another second of whatever this is. You close the gap between you in a flash, catching him off guard with your near tackle hug. He stumbles backwards with a little “oof” breathed out somewhere above your head as you snake your arms around his middle, laying your cheek on that big, broad chest. Warm, he’s so deliciously warm and you take a deep breath for the first time all day, maybe for the first time all month. He smells just like you remember - warm vanilla spice and cigarette smoke. He stiffens for a moment, hands still balled into fists in that damn jacket pocket.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, squeezing him tight as you feel a pinch in your nose and the pinprick of tears threatening to fall. No, that won’t do, Cal’s the injured party here, so you sniff discreetly and snuggle closer into him, shivering again. That does it, he’s too much of a gentleman to leave you in the cold for too long. You hear him sigh, and his arms wrap around you at long last, chin coming down to rest on the top of your head, and his body relaxes into yours. “I’m so sorry.”

“Just…never do that again, alright? If you’re in town, you call…fucks sake. Got it?” His voice is rough with emotion and you can tell there’s more he wants to say, questions left unanswered but you can both leave those for another time. You nod, still glued to him like a sexy starfish.

“Promise.” A simple word, falling from your lips. But you mean it. He grabs your coat from the back and hauls you away from him, the better to look you in the eyes for the first time in months. Fixing you with an intense, searching look he seems to find whatever he’s looking for in your eyes because he nods, once. He knows this is a promise you’ll keep.

It’s with relief you notice his smile gets crinklier the more tipsy you become as the night progresses. You cling to his arm for stability while unabashedly sipping down the remains of your fifth gin and tonic with what you hope is endearing gusto. His smile stays, it’s a good sign. You know Callum dislikes stilted companionship more than anything, and if you’ve become a little messy in your attempt to shake off the awkwardness -well, he’s taken it in stride, it’s better than your seasonal blues, your clinging is preferred to your previous neglect. His arm is so large and his hand so huge, you lean against him like a child tired out at a carnival and watch the dwindling order of the party swirl into chaos around you, his leather jacket sticky against your cheek, your little back corner a place of observation after hours spent in the throng, bopping to the beat with the best of them. It’s dizzying and bright looking on it now, your heels feel like they’re wobbling beneath your unmoving feet and it makes you drop your gaze downwards.

Cal is wearing slacks. Pinstripe slacks. The inseams of which are god’s strongest little soldiers. How is the thread not ripping? What’s he so big for? You miss the feeling of them crushing your cheeks, muffling your ears, jumping under your hands.

“Jesus babe,” he interrupts your train of thought, sounding like he’s getting fallacio at that very moment.

“What?” You lift your puzzled face from the crook of his arm and search his own very near, very flushed, very hungry face. Oh, maybe you’d said some of that aloud.

“Babe, you’re fookin’ sloshed.” He isn’t gentlemanly enough to call it tipsy, or maybe you’re way past tipsy. You try to punch his arm but merely end up slipping further into him, holding onto his waist with both hands, tonic glass caught by his reflexes somewhere along the way.

“Thanks’ou,” you mutter, smelling cologne and sweat and feeling the bulky barrel chest beneath your fingers, well and truly as solid and sweet as it was with his first hug this afternoon, “I feel good.” You realize it’s been such a while since you could say that.

His wry smile softens and it creases under his chin as he stares down at you, you feel fingers under your chin, the gesture making your eyes flutter closed. “Good.” His voice is so deep you think you feel it down to the soles of your feet. “Better get you home and tuck you in ‘fore the carriage turns back into a pumpkin.”

You pout, feeling like melting into him, quite sure you’re not physically capable of doing anything under your own steam, not wanting to, in fact wanting very much to let yourself be pampered, be a little spoiled.

So you pout.

“God,” you hear him mutter, he sounds like his voice is coming from the pits, he sounds drunk, he sounds turned on.

“You sloshed too?” You are obscenely hopeful and your hand proves it by sliding down his middle, intent on finding pinstripes and tracing them too.

“I- maybe- maybe more than I thou- holy shit babe, just hold on…I’m gonna get us a cab.”

You’re in public, being indecent. With a man who is not your publicized boyfriend. It strikes you as a delightful change of pace and nothing more. Your bubbly enjoyment of it is only further punctuated by the charming feeling of being lifted in the air and bodily carried through the miasma of tables in the raucous little venue, princess style in Cal’s big arms, out into the little flurries swirling in the late London air. You later assume a large man in an expensive jacket holding a pissed drunk girl wearing a skimpy sequined two piece cradled in his arms was probably perfect taxi bait on that sidewalk. You don’t really recall the wait, just the blast of cold and the feeling of being carried and the positively romantic swirl of lights and snowflakes above your topsy turvy vision, overshadowed by his big old nose.

You think you booped it.

You remember him almost banging your head on the tip of the taxi door as he stumbled in, the way it made you realize he too was sloshed. The way you spilled out onto the seat, giggling, and he had to pick up your legs to slide in beside you. The way he’d not bothered to buckle and simply gave out his address with a tacked on “thanks mate” before proceeding to desecrate the cabbies back seat with the foggiest kiss a London fare had ever witnessed.

Tongue in, mouth wide and devouring, hands in your hair. You were undone by it instantly, the forgiveness and the essential element of being missed; the slight edge of frustration that worked its way into each clack of your teeth and tilt of his jaw. You were being smothered to death in that backseat and you craved it, clung to him and kissed him back, exulted in being wanted and crushed. You felt his thighs under you own, so sturdy and warm, a flush of heat taking over at memories of what was between them, at the way he hurt you and had you coming back for more because he was so lovely about it. The way you couldn’t forget you’d been with him even days after; you needed that badly, a testament that you weren’t always lonely.

“Need you to make me feel it,” you slurred this sentiment aloud, fractured and too loud for decency, the feeling of the seat vibrating under your back and the lights of the city strobing through the droplet-specked windows. “Deep inside,” you insisted, obsessed with it.

“Gotta be quiet, now,” he begged with his forehead pressed to yours, face buzzing from the rough road, sounding gratifyingly hoarse, “almost there.”

Cal would likely tip the poor cabbie for your whining mouth.

“M’so’fucking horny,” you felt the need to impress upon him.

“No shit,” Cal mumbled against your mouth and you didn’t even have time to process the fact he slipped his hand inside your pantyhose until you felt the cold clinking of his watch against your lower belly, then the very electric touch of his finger between your sopping wet petals. He swirled them up and down your slit, once, twice, thrice, gathering a truly incriminating amount of slick. Then he stabbed in, entirely unlike his usual teasing and gentle build. He fucked in, two large fingers at once to the hilt and you let out a entirely involuntary little cry at the much desired and entirely unexpected relief.

“Fuuuuck,” you whined up at him, lips trembling and more than a little pathetic in your drunken state but you were being roughly finger fucked in the backseat of a cab after having been dismally celibate for over a month and it was really too much to expect from a girl not to curse over the happy burn of Callum Turner’s large fingers slamming home. “I can feel your stupid ring,” you managed, realizing it was the one he was always wearing, like some relic from another age, a signet ring sorta thing you’d teased him about. It kept bumping your clit, a cold metal shock, each time he slammed inside.

“You’re gushing.” He sounded like he was almost accusing you.

“Feels s’good,” you defended, about ready to come from this alone. “Been so closed up,” you pouted further, self pity in full bloom now you had a sympathetically horny ear. “Cal you gotta fuck me. You’re gonna fuck me, right? Please, Cally honey, please baby. Need to feel you deep.”

It’s all you can think of as you come on his fingers, the way he’s gonna ruin you if he takes you tonight. The way you’ll not have any room for blues or worries or anything, just being here in the present with the challenge of taking him all the way. It will consume you, turn you into a little cockslave with no schedules or requirements or holiday demands. You’ll have one job and it’s to let Callum bottom out where you can feel those plump and hairy balls against your ass and nothing more. You’d kill for it right now. You’d certainly let him finger fuck you in the back of the cab about it. Proved that already. Who’s acting too distant now? Now that your walls are clamped around his fingers like a vice, soaking his wrist with your orgasm, crying into the palm of his hand held right against your mouth.

“Fuckin’ mouth on you tonight, luv.” He sounds as strangled as you feel. “Whatever you want, whatever you want, baby girl. Beggin’ for my cock…missed me that bad, huh? I know you remember how to take me but it’s been a little while…sure you feel like having that pretty little pussy ruined tonight?”

Your eyes roll back again at his filthy goading. The truth is, it’s been too long and it’s always a challenge with him anyway. A sore point occasionally between the three of you but it is as it is, and your state of mind has you longing for an entirely preventable limp tomorrow.

“I’ll take it, I’ll be good,” you swear, grinding your hips up on his own, trying to feel the throbbing monster in question, impeded in your quest by the stupid pantyhose Austin wanted your wear. “All of you, I promise, won’t even make you go slow. Want you to break me.”

Cal tips the driver exorbitantly, after having wiped his sticky hand off on those pinstripes. The feeling of your wet warmth makes him so hungry to be inside you he forgets his basic maths. It doesn’t matter, he errs on the side of too generous and rolls himself out of the ride. He then pulls you out after him like you’re a bit of slinky play dough. You are recovered enough to walk you find, once your feet meet cement, and it’s something, it’s good enough to hold onto his hand and let him lead you up the four stairs leading to his brick townhouse with its wrought iron railing and navy blue door. You’ve never been inside, only seen pictures. The novelty is thrilling; Callum’s got the door swinging wide before the poor misused cab has even disappeared down the street.

There’s a pleasant foyer right inside, warmer in palette and decor than most renovated homes these days, with a polished wood floor and powder blue walls and a chandelier overhead, gold to match the giant gold mirror hanging above an antique side table holding the keys to what you assume is his car and a stray bag of dog treats fresh from Tesco. It’s instantly charming and intriguing, and so very like him that your heart melts in endearment. Then picks up in a shocked tempo when you feel his huge hands on your waist, pushing more than guiding you over the threshold. He spins you effortlessly and you’re bent bodily over the pretty antique side table before you can even help.

Horizontally you watch his hand, the one that had just been inside you minutes ago, swipe off the dog treats and the fancy little silver tray holding his keys. They clatter to the wood floor and you shake at the reminder he’s as keyed up as you are or worse, not having gotten relief in the cab like you did. You remember your stupidity, you raving and saying you wouldn’t make him go slow. Your mouth dries out and jitters pulse through you now, a war between sparkling arousal at every dominant action he takes and downright terror at your big, drunk mouth over promising your cock taking abilities.

He yanks your pantyhose down unceremoniously and you don’t move, not even when you hear the rip his impatience makes in them, you keep your flushed cheek to the cool wooden table top and try to even out your breathing, try to remember it’s Callum and it’s what you want and he’s gonna impale you bent over this table apparently, like a couple of insatiable sex addicts managing only to get to the first available surface. The sound of his belt shouldn’t make you full body shudder, not after all the times you two have been intimate in other places and other times, but right now everything else seems so quiet. Just two sets of lungs breathing in and out, and the distant hum of his fridge, the muted traffic outside, the grate of his zipper.

Your eyes flick up, remembering the mirror. He’s staring down in its reflection, not at your eyes but at your bare bottom, the sequined skirt puddled around your ankles. You feel his toe nudging at your instep and you spread your legs wider, tabletop digging into your lower belly as you lean forward more, arching your back, giving him a peak of the cleft between your legs.

The slap on your ass jolts your body forward more, your trembling hand reaching out to steady yourself, mussing up the mirror with your greasy print. “Arch it baby, that’s it, throw it back for me.” He presses on your lower back and you tilt as much as you can, feeling cold air hit your petals as Callum’s calloused hand kneads your ass cheek, crudely pulling you apart, thumbing at where you’re glittery and wet. His handspan is sobering. Your heart pounds in your ears louder than the band earlier tonight.

“Stay like tha’, just like tha’,” he commands. “M’gonna fuck the pout off ya.”

The sheer, blunt weight of him pointed up against your little hole feels utterly reckless when it happens. You stare at his face in the mirror and the glazed look of determination on his, the way he’s still staring at where he’s lined himself up, the animal in him fully in control, his tongue peeking out at the corner of his lips.

He doesn’t do you the courtesy of meeting your eyes when he slams inside, it’s just as well really. Your own screw shut as your mouth unhinges in a scream, raw and uncensored, feeling it fully and it’s as much as you remember and he didn’t go slow. And he doesn't even look at your face, not when you squint your tearful eyes open again to beg for reassurance; he’s staring down at where he split you apart, mesmerized and utterly smug. You feel yourself trembling, belly a raw ache immediately.

He’s too deep.

His belly is warm against your ass, curly trail of hair tickling with each heave of his breath. You try to shimmy away, further atop the side table, nose almost smudging the mirror. A warm and solid hand on the back of your neck yanks you back, back down on him fully, back on your feet: you hear your own sob like it belongs to someone else.

“Cal…” you try to beg your way into a dishonorable retreat but the hand stays strong and sure beneath your skull.

“Tell me ya missed me,” he demands, and you’re not sure if it’s what’s required to be let off his cock or for him to slam it home again.

It feels like true, broken, stupidly desperate begging when you comply, no game in it at all, “I did, I did.”

“Say it.” He puts you out of your suspense with a rough thrust and it knocks out your breath. “Say you missed me. Say it.”

“Missed you!” you wail, cheek smushed under the press of his hand.

“And you wa’me to fuck ya,” he insists, hips snapping fast now and you let out unstoppable little grunts of effort as your body accommodates him as best it can, “tell me, tell me, baby.”

In the mirror above you he looks pissed or hurt, probably has been all evening and now he can have this, you can make it better by this. It's such a hot thought. Earning his forgiveness this way. Genuinely a blow to the boss babe mentality wilting inside you, the way he fucks such flattery out of you, the way when cock dumb and bent over in his entry way, you mean it in perfect sincerity: “Missed you so bad Cal, missed the way you fuck me up.”

“I fuck you up?”

“Yes!”

“Only me? Only me, baby? Tell me-”

It’s on the tip of your tongue, it tastes as sincere as all the other jumbled admissions you’ve screamed out face to face with your own reflection here. Except this one isn’t true. And it hits like a bucket of ice water on your raging arousal.

Austin. Oh god, what about- Austin.

You freeze, blood running cold and croak out a meager “Stop!” Callum doesn’t listen, too caught up in the moment to hear and you say it again, louder, more forceful - “Callum! Stop!”

To his credit he does, immediately, concern flooding his pink, sweaty face. “What’s wrong? Did I hurt you? Oh god, did I hurt you for real?” You hear the slight tinge of panic in his voice starting to escalate and the hand that had been pressing you into the table suddenly releases you and helps you struggle upright onto your elbows as you wince. No easy feat as you’re still impaled, and fluttering around him at that. He grunts a little but doesn’t make a move to disentangle you both…yet.

You meet his eyes in the mirror, his face still a jumble of concern and questions and yours suddenly ghostly white. “Austin,” you whisper brokenly, “we-. We forgot about Austin. Fuck. We didn’t even ask him if we could…oh my god, oh my GOD. What have we done?” Now it’s you who begins to panic, hot tears starting to gather in your eyes.

“Hey…shh, calm down, babe. Calm down. You’re totally right, we should have asked ‘im. Here, lemme just…” he trails off and you feel him struggling to reach his phone in the back pocket of his pants, which are still around his thick thighs as he didn’t even bother to pull them all the way down. He grins at you in the mirror, holding up his phone triumphantly. “We should call him.”

Before you can really hear or process that fully…

FaceTime screen. You flinch, realizing what an insanely compromising position you’re currently in, with Callum’s cock buried deep inside you just like you’d asked, no regard or thought for the man you’re currently in a relationship with. Austin doesn't answer - thank god. You’re so relieved. Then suddenly Callum’s talking behind you, voice text memo thingy… “Butler, wake up.”

“We got ourselves into a shituation of sorts and didn’t wanna leave ya out. It’s like eight a.m. there for fuck’s sake, wake up my balls are killin’ me, man.”

You better believe that Austin wakes up then. He’s very suggestible first thing in the morning to Cal’s sex voice. He’s heard it before, of course, but only as solo messages in the group chat. We was mentioned and Austin’s morning wood does the thinking for him when he sees a missed FaceTime call and punches redial. Laying on his belly, cock chafed on the sheets, outraged curiosity on his baby face, “WHAT THE FUCK, GUYS?!”

Calllum’s double chin in view, he’s red, sweaty, high ceiling visible. Austin’s less annoyed about whatever is going on and more about…he just woke up?! He planned on avocado toast and espresso and reading the morning paper in leisurely silence, maybe a warm shower with some self care. But what the actual fuck?

“I realize I’m taking liberties,” Cal starts huffing, sounding strangled and keeping you well out of sight, “but she looked so pretty and I missed you both, and we did get pretty drunk…please tell me I can keep going.”

Austin can’t seem to stop shaking his head and rubbing his sleepy eyes and repeating, “What the fuck?”

“Come on mate, let ya watch!” Cal wheedles, grin growing as Austin doesn’t verbalize any actual qualms. It’s not consent but anything less than a hard no from Austin means Callum can try to use his charm.

“We can talk about all this later, we really need to, actually but, uh, please, lemme.” He pauses, another grin splitting his face as pulls the phone closer to get a better look at the screen. “Fuck, you look so good all sleepy, bet your ass is out too, huh? Austin?”

“What the fuck, Callum? Just…lemme see her. Babe? You there?” You can hear Austin on the other end of the line, and with that, consent is assumed. You start babbling, trying to explain some shit as the phone comes in front of you, Cal’s massive hand obscuring you partly as he tries to prop it up on the mirror’s gilt frame. Austin’s rumpled, blonde bedhead and blue eyes swim into view and your heart skips a beat at the familiar sight. You can tell just by looking at him that he’s worked up, so horny already. You see your slightly horrified face reflected in the tiny screen in the corner, along with your bare ass and Callum clearly attached somewhere lower. He’s leaning over you, his cock stabbing deeper inside you, pressing you harder against the table and squeezing the last bit of your the breath out.

“…didn’t consider your feelings, baby, I’m so sorry if you’re not comfortable…OOOH FUCK CAL!” you gasp. You’re trying not to clench but you can’t help it and he keeps groaning and fucking into you in tiny little thrusts. You lose all thought, all ability to speak as Cal starts up again in earnest. Your face is so close to the camera and Austin can mainly see you - wincing, starting to cry as Cal pummels you from behind. Pretty soon he starts moving too, not even thinking about it. It’s just that the sheets are dragging so well, feeling so good. Watching his girl’s face as she takes his best friend’s cock. Poor you, eyes wide and mouth propped open in a perfect “o”, sweet face looking half-pained most of the time. The breathy way you say Austin’s name is almost pleading - you’re not sure if you want him to save you through the screen or absolve you.

“He too big for you, angel?” he asks without even thinking, eyes all consoling and compassionate. You manage a small whine, nodding as you bite your lip at a particularly hard thrust.

“He doesn’t take no’s well,” Austin reminds you in a sympathetic told ya so way.

“Damn right,” gets huffed in your ear. “He knows you’re a little slut, knows you were sayin’ “yes yes yes” a second ago. Isn’t that right, Butler? Yeah, look at him all sorry for you, he knows I won’t stop, it’s why he’s too chicken to let me try him, huh Aus? ‘Fraid it’d be too much?” You catch Callum’s self-satisfied smirk in the mirror. Austin mumbles a quiet “Shut up” but his eyes are drooping like he’s about to cum.

“Mm hmm, thought so, mate. Better be glad I’m not there right now or that tight little ass of yours would be wrecked,” Callum goads. Austin watches your face contort as you take him, half-imagining himself on the receiving end. It’s a subconscious combo of wanting to put himself in your place, knowing it would hurt for him and also to soothe his slightly-bruised ego that another cock isn’t even better, it’s too big in fact for you.

“Fuck baby, is it so deep? Does it hurt?” He sounds hopeful. “He’s too big isn’t he, awful big British man who doesn’t even know how to tease, my poor baby it hurts, yeah, I can see it hurts. You cry so pretty. You gotta be good though, you gotta take it, gotta keep our mate happy.” Austin licks his lips, sounding strangled, his wavering voice an octave lower than normal. “All the way in Cal, come on go all the way…ooh fuuuuck yeah, you gotta force it don’t you? She’s so tight, isn’t she…oh fuck, my poor baby, don’t stop now.”

“You’re thinking about it, aren’t you Butler? What I’d feel like? You ok, bruv? Wishing this was you? Lookin’ a lil wistful on me, maybe it’s jus’the screen. Naughty…gonna have to shove your face into the pillow just to keep you quiet. I know how loud you can be when you come,” Cal grunts as he pounds into you, keeping his eyes firmly on Austin’s through the screen as he does. Austin starts to flip over onto his back, easier wring himself out that way.

“Ah ah ah, don’t touch yourself, pretty man, we both know you don’t need it - not with this, not with us. Want you to rub it out against the sheets, like the pretty little bitch you are.” Callum meets your stare in the mirror, his eyes glittering with mirth and lust.

That mischief is infectious, combined with Austin’s own almost salacious investment in your penetrated state- it gives you an idea. More like a need.

“Babe.” Austin’s gaze snaps back to your face at the sound of your voice, pupils dilated and lush mouth hanging open. “Be a good boy and open the bedside drawer…yes darling, that one. Grab my favorite vibe, the pink one. That’s it…mmm you’re such a good listener. Now…can you turn it on for me, baby? I want you to put it on your cock.” You watch as he obeys your every command, his forehead dropping to the bed when the vibrations reach their intended destination.

“Butler, move it down,” Cal calls him out on it, smirking and waiting to see if he actually will.

Austin doesn’t even argue, just grits out, “I don’t even have lube.” His sad bunny face reappears briefly as he lifts his head but he’s moving it down anyway, off screen.

“Yeah, neither do we, did we doll? Nah! -s’gonna hurt, Aus.” Callum says this last part, half goad and half encouragement. Austin feels so naughty doing it, even after everything. That's one threshold he hasn’t crossed yet. But for you? For both of you? To be part of the fun? He’d do just about anything you two asked of him.

“That’s it baby, be a good boy, don’t stop, don’t you dare stop, keep going,” you praise his timid but consistent efforts from five thousand miles and an ocean away. “Fuck Austin, you sound so pretty like that.”

You and Callum watch Austin through the tiny phone screen, shifting and coloring and so sure he’s not into it either but his throat is tightening and so are his balls….his whole lower belly is throbbing.

“Is this…fuck…is this how girls feel?” He doesn’t know but god it’s another thing entirely, now that you and Cal are begging and encouraging and swearing he’s got this.

He very much doesn’t “have” shit but…

…If his baby says he does, then he does. He lets out a hoarse scream, like he’s been struck by lightning and he’s too seized up to even get it out of himself if he wants to. Pretty face planted in the pillow, the phone tips over a little and you can see all his golden hair sticking up, a sliver of scalp. He beats the mattress with his fist, and Callum starts laughing inside you. You’re not sure if it’s funny or concerning. But you start laughing. Can't help it. It’s contagious. Callum almost slips out of you and has to grab your hips to stay firmly planted.

“You ok mate? ‘Oh fuck’ for bad or just ‘fuck’ for good. C’mon, talk to us Aus.” He’s still wheezing and laughing. He’s horrible. Austin knows Callum is watching him…it’s making him feel a million odd little things, all of them very dizzy and very warm.

“Oh fuck, no it feels better- worse- like this,” Austin manages through gritted teeth.

“Fix the phone baby, we wanna see you,” you say. When he does there’s a couple of tears leaking out of his eyes - from pleasure? Pain? Both? He’s not sure, but whatever it is makes you and Cal so turned on that things are suddenly not funny anymore in the least. An intense silence fills the room, only heavy breathing and a couple of whimpers can be heard as you all zero in on the same thing - chasing that blacked out sun and exploding stars. Watching y’all go at it distracts Austin just enough to get into it, in a good way, to get on top of that out of control feeling. But it makes him keep clenching down and he lets out a sort of wail, clamping a hand over his mouth - where the fuck did that sound come from? He’s never made that sound before in his life.

Cal starts babbling to you about how pretty he bets Austin looks, spread out on that big white bed, and for a moment Austin forgets you, too busy realizing Callum is watching him squirm from being stimulated in a way he never has been before. He almost loses it right then at the overheard praise.

“Bet his ass is all clenched up.”

“Think his back is sweaty yet?”

“Bet he’s leaking everywhere.”

“Are you really crying, Aus? Fuck, you look so damn sexy like that.”

Pathetic sad groaning, muffled from the pillows where he’s dropped his head again, Austin moans out, “Maybeeee -my assss, oh god. Oh no fuck…I’m gonna cum.”

The panic in his announcement is comical, considering the impending bliss. But it’s no laughing matter anymore, the building feeling deep in his gut, nowhere familiar at all and yet stronger than anything he’s ever known was possible. He thinks when the feeling crests he’s going to be shattered into a million pieces. He can’t quite breathe with the way it’s making him seize up, the little toy tucked inside with its vibrations making his whole body twitch and writhe at unexpected intervals ever more frequently. There’s a nasty puddle of precum under his chafed cock and Austin feels fresh tears of self pity gathering, ready to spill. He’s going to cum and it’s terrifying.

“Baby-you-look-,” your intended compliment gets punched out of you a lá staccato thanks to the bruising your cervix is taking as Callum quite loses his mind from the feel of your gripping walls and the sight of Austin getting off on the buzz of a pink girl-vibe tucked in his peachy little ass. “You-look-so-pretty,” you manage and watch as Austin flings his head up, looking strangled and with every vein in his neck pulsing wildly, and in tandem, it feels, with the beat of Callum’s heartbeat inside you, unless your all-encompassing horny has made you utterly delusional.

Austin cums silently, except for a choked off shriek of shock that heralded his arrival, his beautiful face contorting in exquisite agony, his own brutal pleasure so palpable through the screen it becomes a symbiosis of sorts in your own body and what has been a brutal, mind-numbing fuck for you so far now becomes the instrument of cutting your tether to earth and the next slam of Callum’s hips into yours sends you off, eyes glued to Austin’s bubblegum pink lips and a delighted scream echoing through the flat.

Spent, in the aftermath, you rest your head against the table once more, only the top of your head visible to the FaceTime video, and take what Callum is chasing in his vigor. You feel your recent wetness squelching and running down your thighs as he fucks you through the last of the pleasure and into that burning realm of too much.

“Cal- Callum, please, you gotta-.” It’s not your voice doing the begging though, your ears may be ringing so badly you can hear colors right now but it’s Austin, you’re sure of that. Austin, not you, begging Callum to cum, “-I can’t keep, I can’t stop I, please, please cum -I-”

He can’t stop clenching, cumming, awful little dribbles and spurts of semen milked out of his bobbing cock by each buzz of your vibrator that he’s either forgotten he can willfully remove or else can’t manage to because of how reactionary each shift of his body feels.

“Wan’me to cum? Wan’ me to fill you up?” Callum sounds winded as fuck, slurring and drunk and full-blooded Londoner.

You don’t even think to answer, even though it’s your body he’s using. Your body that’ll be filled up.

“Please,” Austin answers for you, sounding so whimpery you feel yourself shake apart again, a small and involuntary climax in direct correspondence with the audible stimulation from his pathetic state.

When Callum cums it’s so warm and much and plainly obvious, striping your inner walls and soothing the abused ache, that you feel half euphoric and half like a terrible defrauder that you’ve felt this and not Austin. It’s all you can manage though, fucked and wrecked and ruined as was promised on the packaging, you can’t do more than sag further on top the side table and relish the feeling of Callum’s cock beginning to soften inside you, allowing a little breach in the dam for a trickle of cum to drip out.

“Aus, take the fookin’ vibe out ‘fore ya pass out on us.”

Cal’s voice sounds so reassuringly commanding the last little bits of your frazzled self melt away with the dregs of arousal and you lift your head in time to watch Austin face plant for the tenth time while reaching behind himself to obey.

“There’s a good lad,” Callum teases in your ear and you shudder from the secondhand praise, shuddering too from the way Austin looks like a debauched cherub, naked and meek in a sea of white sheets illuminated by a clear New York morning, staring down at the little pink wand he’s just retrieved from his still tingly ass.

“Fuck,” he articulates with swollen lips.

“Show us the puddle, come on mate, ya must’ve milked out a pint goin’ on an’ on like that. Ya lil freak.”

Austin blushes under the coarse praise and shyly points the camera to the desecrated sheets. You hear yourself moan before you can bite it back.

“I wish I could lick it up,” you realize longingly, dazed and used, and maybe you are still drunk.

“Your mouth!”-Cal, “Your mind!” -Austin, comes out from both men simultaneously and it makes you realize you really should’ve been asleep ages ago. You hadn’t meant to say that bit out loud. You blush, actually blush, and after what you all just experienced you really shouldn’t have any embarrassment left. You start to giggle, quickly followed by the boys, until Callum is slipping free from your poor, abused pussy and guffawing until tears are leaking from his eyes and down his cheeks.

“Goddamn,” swears Austin, his giggles finally fizzing out. “You two will be the death of me. Hang up the phone and go to bed already. Call me when you wake up.”

“I love you, Austin.” You grab the phone and hold it close, memorizing every inch of his face in milliseconds, suddenly not wanting him to go. “I miss you, babe. So damn much.”

“Me too, sweetheart…I’ll see you soon, ok? And Cal?” He comes up behind you, wiping his eyes and leans over your shoulder to grin into the phone. “You bastard,” he teases. “Watch yourself, bud.”

“Oh, I’m really scared, mate. Fuck off and go eat your avocado toast, fancy man.” And with that, Callum hangs up the call and you both stumble blindly through his darkened house and into the bathroom for a quick and necessary shower. He tosses you a soft and worn gray t-shirt to sleep in and you’re off to dreamland almost as soon as your head hits the pillow. It seems like you’ve only been asleep a few minutes when you feel a soft squeeze on your toes. You yank your foot away and whine, not ready to wake up.

“Cal…stoppp,” you pout, jerking the covers up over your head and burrowing down.

“Wake up, Grumpy Gus, I brought coffee and croissants.”

That voice. The one you heard from thousands of miles away last night. The one you hear in your dreams. You throw the covers off in one swift motion and rub your eyes. It can’t be. But it is. Standing at the foot of the bed, a gentle smile on his face and a tray of coffee in one hand and a white paper bag in the other.

“Austin?! What are you even doing here?” You scramble out of bed and leap into his arms, squishing his cheeks between your hands and covering his face with kisses. He laughs and stumbles backward, just barely getting the coffee onto the dresser before it spills.

“I missed you too much so I caught the next flight to London. Couldn’t stand to be away from you for another minute. Happy to see me?” His eyes flick down shyly as he waits for your answer.

You don’t answer. Instead, you press your lips to his, tenderly at first and then hungrily, drinking in all of him. “More than happy, you have no idea,” you whisper when you come up for air.

“The fuck is going on?” a raspy voice calls out from the bed. Callum looks like he’s been hit by a truck - eyes squinty, face creased by sheets and curly hair sticking up at all angles.

“Austin brought coffee. And croissants,” you chirp, all traces of sleepiness gone.

Callum just shakes his head and groans, falling back into the sheets and pulling the covers over his eyes. “He would fly across an ocean just to make sure his girl didn’t like another cock better than his. Show off.”

Tags: @crazymadpassionatelove @stylespresleyhearted @oskea93 @softboo @winniemaywebber @spiderstyles04 @abswifey @thegettingbyp2 @blikebarbie92 @missmaywemeetagain @icedb1ackcoffee @wildfll0wer @dilfelvis @slowsweetlove @thefallofthedamned @cherieaustin @liv-n @denised916 @coureurs-de-bois9 @steph-speaks @jjubilee-fluff

#the three of us #austin butler #callum turner #austin butler fanfiction #austin butler smut #austin butler fic #austin butler imagine #callum turner fanfic #callum turner smut #callum turner fic #callum turner imagine #Marina does it again #written by ab4eva

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jwnzlvr · 7 months ago

Text

just take it

pairing : boxer!nishimura riki x reporter!fem reader

summary : you asks stupid questions, you get very interesting answers! or, riki gets sick of your shit and he definitely lets you know.

wc : 2.4k

warnings : SMUT (mdni), noncon/dubcon themes, p in v, pwp (very light plot tbh), unprotected sex (don’t do that folks!), light edging and overstim, choking, light slapping, squirting, fingering, (slight) degradation, not proofread!, DON’T LIKE, DON’T READ (i will be promptly blocking anyone who doesn’t like and does read.)

notes : everyone say thank you ash (@gyaruoriki go read her fics !) for the idea love ur big sexy brain mmmm !!! i wrote this at midnight while thinking abt this cute guy i saw at work who had just come out of the gym wearing bandages MHMM scrumptious. anyways, yall enjoy <3

seeing riki high off his adrenaline, eyes filled with pure determination and rage did something to you. you’d heard from other sources that riki was competitive and winning his matches was always something important for him. however, you never really understood just how strong this competitiveness was until you saw him in the ring.

sweat mixed with blood dripped down his face. the bruises on his torso were indicators of how well this round was going. not good at all. according to riki, this was all YOUR fault. every time that you were a part of the audience of a match always ended in him losing. it’s been loss after loss for him lately.

‘how important could that stupid article be for her to ruin my fucking matches?’ riki would ask himself. definitely not important enough to cause him yet another loss tonight. his opponent managed to catch him off guard, throwing a punch straight to his gut. the impact made riki fold over, his hand on his stomach and a bit of blood being coughed up.

“fuck this…” he mumbled as he tried to get back up but his body decided to give out on him completely. you watched in disappointment as riki fell to the floor of the ring. the referee counted to ten, officially making riki the loser of this round and the match.

white noise filled riki’s ears and only one thing was on his mind: you. you, the one who seems to be like bad luck to him. you, the one who can’t seem to shut the fuck up. you, who always asks the worst questions at the worst times. like now. because for some reason, you thought it’d be real smart to follow him into the locker room and ask an angry, upset riki “so, how do you feel about this being your fourth loss this season?”

the simple sound of your voice made him want to punch you in the face. or stick his dick into it. he wasn’t too sure yet.

riki stared at you in disbelief. he scoffed before turning to look at anything else but you. “are you serious right now?” he asked, his fatigue dripping into his voice. “well, it’s an actual question i need to make.” you retorted, notepad and pen in your lap.

“it’s an actual question? okay. i’m pissed off. i never lose but it seems ever since you started showing up here, you just ruined shit for me. what are you even writing about on that stupid fucking notepad? are your articles even important? what do you even write about?” his frustration was absolutely evident. you thought for a second before answering him. “illegal boxing. underground boxing. and no, it’s not my fault you’ve been losing. that’s very much your problem. i’m just doing my job. it’s really not my fault you can’t handle a simple loss.”

your words set something off inside of riki. something beyond anger, beyond wanting to rock your shit. something dark. you’d really fucked up by now.

‘fuck it.’ he thought to himself before he grabbed you by the arm. “what are you-“ “shut the fuck up.” he cut you off as he threw you to the floor, immediately caging you between him and the cement under you. you couldn’t even react from how fast everything had happened. one second you were on a chair and the other you were on the floor with riki’s breath against your lips.

being in this position made riki realize how attractive you really were. sure, he hated your guts but he admitted from the start that you were hot. he knew eventually he’d try to get you alone to fuck you but he didn’t think it would be right now. or that it’d be under these circumstances.

you shook under him, you didn’t know from what. fear? shock? one look into his eyes told you everything you needed to know of his intentions with you. they held an eerie darkness to them. it shook you to your core. riki didn’t give you more time to think but hiking up your skirt, revealing your plush thighs to him. he grinned at the sight of your stockings and your panties. how cute.

“fuck, you have no idea how long i’ve been wanting to do this to you… coming into my space just to ruin shit. just made me wanna fuck that stupid smile off your face. want me to do that? actually, who cares what you want. i think i deserve at least this as a reward for you ruining my winning streak.” he smirked as he ripped your stockings off of you along with your panties.

you whimpered at how aggressive he was being. your hands immediately tried to wrap around his forearms. it seemed you forgot riki was probably ten times stronger than you, and he showed this by promptly releasing your grip on him and using one hand to push both your arms above you.

“really? do you actually think you can get me off of you?” riki’s grin widened. you felt a shock of fear down your spine. he was having fun. he was about to do something disgusting, yet he was having fun.

you couldn’t even move around as he was on top of you, his weight holding you down. “what do you want?” your voice came out in a tremble. riki only looked you up and down before answering.

“revenge. and a little fun.”

revenge? for making him lose? this was a new level of petty for you. and the way he was getting his revenge was definitely not your favorite. riki used his hands to pry apart your thighs, immediately getting a negative response from you. you didn’t even get to say anything to him before he reached his hand back up and slapped you across the face.

“don’t fucking complain. just take it.”

his thigh was slotted in between yours, putting some pressure on you with it. you tried your best to not show an expression of pleasure to him. you couldn’t let him know you enjoyed the slight pressure on you. your clit twitched at the feeling of his shorts against you.

he slotted his hand in between where his thigh was and your heat. his fingers traced around for a bit before finding your clit. he smirked as he rolled it between his fingers. he had fun watching you try to not whine at the feeling of him playing around with you.

he gave a dark chuckle at the sight before him. “i know you’re enjoying this, baby. i can feel you getting wet.” and he was right, your pussy beginning to get damp. you refused to give into his actions thought. “fuck you!” you yelled, trying to move but only making it worse for yourself.

riki decided he had enough of your brattiness and pinched your clit as punishment. you yelped at the bit of pain followed by some pleasure. your pleasure was promptly taken away when riki gave another pinch, this time hard enough to make you almost tear up.

“fuck me? gladly.” he gave a fake smile as he took his thigh back from between you. his hand immediately made its way back to between your thighs. you didn’t even get to do or say anything before two of his long fingers slipped inside of you. you couldn’t bite back that moan, letting riki know that felt good to you.

no. no, it shouldn’t feel good. but with each curl of riki’s fingers you felt your defense falling some more. his thumb grazed over your clit occasionally, making you clench on his fingers. riki knew you were starting to enjoy it and it was evident on how his fingers started to thrust in and out of you with more force than you’ve felt.

he watched as you whined, trying to deny it felt good but your body couldn’t lie. you were gushing on him and you knew it. you felt your high getting close. your hips moved on his fingers automatically as you got closer and closer.

you could taste your orgasm coming, just a few more thrusts from riki and you’d come undone. unfortunately for you, riki decided to torture you a bit. he slipped his fingers out of you just as you were about to cum. you let out a pathetic whine at the loss of contact, riki only grinning before sticking his fingers in his mouth to taste you. he hummed at your taste.

“what’s wrong? i thought you didn’t want me to touch you?” his voice dripped of fake sympathy. now he was acting like he gave a damn what you wanted. you shook your head. your head was so hazy, you didn’t even know what you wanted anymore. all you knew is you needed to cum. no matter what.

you whined at his words. “i changed my mind…” you wanted to cry at how he edged you. “just let me cum, please.” you almost begged him. that was more than enough for riki. he finally properly lifted your skirt, getting a good look at you. he then pushed his shorts and boxers down, revealing his hard cock. precum dripped from it, making your pussy clench.

he saw as your hole clenched and grinned ever so bigger. he let his middle finger graze over your wet hole. “you like looking at my dick, baby? want it in you?” he teasingly asked. you could only nod at him. you needed him in you. riki sighed exaggeratedly at your reaction. “well, i guess i can’t leave you hanging… if you’re good for me, i’ll even cum in you. you want that?”

you felt yourself drool at the idea of being stuffed with cum. it was crazy how you went from wanting riki off of you to making him cum inside you. you felt insatiable. “yes, cum in me. want you all in me!” you cried.

he silently gave his cock a few strokes before sliding into you. your jaw dropped at the feeling of you being stretched on his dick. it was so thick with a good length, it felt perfect. he went slowly as to let you feel every inch of him. after what felt like an eternity, you felt his hips press against you.

he let out a low groan at how tight and warm you were. “god, this pussy feels so good. you like having my cock in you, hm?” he moaned at the feeling of you clenching around him. there’s his answer. you let out whimpers at the feeling of him being so deep. his tip was hitting straight into your spot, the slightest movement making you want to scream in pleasure.

his hips began to slowly thrust in and out of you. the drag of his cock in your walls made you see stars and you couldn’t help but grind on him. he felt satisfaction at seeing you be a hot mess for him. “yeah, you like that…” his thrusts gradually got a bit faster, a continuous fap fap fap being heard across the locker room.

“nghh riki…” you whined as his cock was digging into you. it was heaven on earth for you. riki finally let go of your arms after a while. you moved them to wrap around his neck, your hands tugging on his hair. a low groan escaped his throat at your actions. his now free hand made its way to your neck, wrapping around it and giving a small squeeze.

you gasped at his hand around your neck. “you’re such a good girl for me, ya know? can just fuck you whenever i want and how i like. so good…” he praised as his thrusts got harsher. and for the first time that night, he leaned in to give you a kiss. it was so messy, teeth clashing and tongues dancing but it was perfect.

his hand squeezed your throat a bit tighter, making you feel woozy. his other hand went to squeeze your left tit, satisfied at how soft it felt even when you still had your shirt and bra on. the lack of oxygen made you needier and more desperate to cum. riki knew this when you began to clench around him.

“fuck, gonna cum? cum whenever you want, i said i couldn’t leave you hanging.” he gave you a hazy smile. his brain was completely fogged up. he couldn’t formulate a thought other than fucking you. he was just as out of it as you.

you felt your pleasure from before building up, trying to give riki a warning. “cu- ‘m cumming!” your words sounded choked but he knew exactly what you were trying to say. he didn’t give you a verbal response. he only gave your throat the hardest squeeze he could without hurting you. “cum for me, baby.”

that was enough for you to release all over him, your release hitting his thighs. he kept fucking you as you came, watching in awe as you squirted all over him. he finally let go of your throat and let you catch your breath as you came down from your high.

“did i fuck you that good? such a dirty girl f’ me.” he groaned as he felt himself get close to his release. he ignored your cries of overstimulation as he kept fucking you. “since you were so good, you get my cum. are you happy, baby?” he asked.

you gave him an eager nod, trying to ignore how overstimulated you were for him. “so happy, want you to cum in me. please, riki!” you moaned loudly. that was enough for riki to start painting your walls white. his head was thrown back as he released into you. you enjoyed the feeling of riki cumming in you, moaning softly at the sensation. you clenched around him to try and milk him for everything he had.

you laid on the floor with riki flopping next to you, both of you guys’s chests heaving. you were trying to catch your breath but it felt almost impossible. riki finally turned to look at you.

“you make me lose again and i’ll only be meaner to you.” he warned.

you took it as a challenge to distract him in his next match.

#enhypen smut #enha smut #enhypen hard hours #riki smut #riki x reader #enhypen x reader #don’t like don’t read!!#i will keep repeating myself idgaf what u have to say

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srslylini · 3 months ago

Text

season 2 has a structure problem and that makes act 1 flow naturally enough and it sets up the next acts perfectly well, but they wanted to do so much more than what they were

1. setting up

2. capable of doing in 9 episodes

had they just cut a few plot lines everything would've moved far easier. For example

1. cut the Smeech thing entirely. Sevika and Jinx don't need this to find themselves together and start a found family. That scene In Silcos office was so moving and everything I always loved about Arcane, stuff like this is what's needed. In fact move the prison break to act 1 and have them handle that together, Jinx can still make Sevika her arm, and everything could've still moved the same. It would've fit so much better and there also would've been so much more time to develop anything else with the magic system and act 2 wouldn't feel like it was overflowing with anything and everything. Isha is a character that as of in the show can be cut so easily and that's so sad because she'd be so interesting. Everything about her would've worked and SHOULD HAVE worked but she also just felt like Plot and a thing to make Jinx sad over again. Either don't do that or make Isha not a character like this???? I liked her scenes with Jinx so much and the scene with Jinx freaking out after finding out that Isha was taken to prison was genuinely so good, I'm still holding on to the hope that they didn't actually kill her

2. either cut that shit with the tree because let's be so honest that basically only happened so that Heimerdinger, Ekko and Jayce could meet, since we do NOT even really talk about the tree in act 2? that was so weird. Like either actually make it a thing or find different ways to let characters meet naturally. I dont know, the show was so good with that in season 1. And if they truly wanted the tree scene at least make it make sense and don't randomly drop it Idk.

3. I LOVE Mel she is like my favorite character but the plot with the black rose takes so much necessary time away from what we actually need to focus on. I heard they want to make different shows so they are setting this up but it just doesn't work. Mel could've so easily been integrated into the main plot line and it would've also made so much more sense at that. Though I'll just wait on act 3 before I judge too hard. (if they actually DARE to make her pregnant Istg)

4. Making Jinx that hero character for only like, what, a few seconds was so strange. I hope act 3 gets that better but that, first of all, happened mostly out of no where and a few touches to her shoulder after the prison scene was also not??? helping??? either set that up from the very start or don't do it at all. She isn't a hero, she is a tragedy and someone who needs help and room to breathe. The scenes where they tried to make that funny, in my opinion didn't land at all. She doesn't need a hero complex she needs calmness and stable relationships. Let Isha live I swear to GOD.

in fact that leads me into the next point

5. Have Vi realize she doesn't want to be an enforcerer sooner? I actually do like how rushed that part felt don't get me wrong, but if they wanted a reunion between Jinx and Vi don't randomly put it into act 2 with barely any build up. Let Jinx and Vi realize it during the fight, they kinda did do that but??? just didn't move that anywhere. it's so strange. If they had cut the Smeech stuff they could've easily used the third episode to make Jinx and Vi slowly reconcile. Which also means I think Vi would've been such a better "symbol" than Jinx. Vi and Jinx, for me, show what Zaun is made of, and Jinx is quite literally the valid pain, distrust and anger of Zaun, and she as well as Zaun desperately need healing. Like that would've been SO COOL. that's just my opinion though, so there is that.

6. If they had made Vi the symbol the conflict between Caitlyn and Vi would've felt a lot more natural as well. Like??? Also Caitlyn should've had so much more time if they wanted that switch up in the end to work. Cut the black rose stuff and that would've worked perfectly fine.

7. Now do NOT get me wrong, Ambessa's character is so interesting and I feel like exploring her is so cool but she and her plot just doesn't fit into the Piltover/Zaun thing. It makes it too big for what the show is. In fact I (and now this is just my opinion, anyone can have their own just saying lmao) would've either cut out Ambessa's character/plotline or subtly continued Ambessas drama with Mel, which would give Mel, who didn't get taken by the black rose in my version, a lot more to do and way more interesting stuff too. Again this is very much my opinion and doesn't mean anyone needs to share it, but I feel like they could've easily made Heimerdinger be the one who gets Caitlyn to where she was/is with Ambessa. It would've expanded Heimerdingers character and it would've stayed in the setting they already perfectly build up, Piltover and Zaun. Also, Heimerdinger wouldn't just feel like a random joke character anymore.

8. The Pit fight stuff could have been SO interesting and I feel had we not stayed with Viktor Christ so much which was also so weird at times, we could've gotten so much necessary insight on Vi. If we follow my idea it could've been Vi forced to be a symbol because of the person she is. The embodiment of Zauns loyalty, strength and resilience. And then the fights that will come out of that forcing Vi to face so much stuff she shouldn't etc etc (I haven't fleshed that one out yet don't come for me) and that could've ended in her pit fighting era, which should've taken at LEAST an episode and not a random montage that just gets forgotten??? for no reason at all. Really hope act 3 talks about that cause??? I feel with Vi as the leader the healing of Zaun would make so much sense, because Jinx realistically can't do that. The idea of Jinx being in that position IS interesting I just feel it wasn't established/developed enough.

9. I really really liked how from the very beginning Viktor's safe haven did not in fact feel safe. There was always a very uneasy feeling and that's what I love about the show. I was always waiting for the shoe to drop and it happened, that was amazing. Though I would've either established a lot of this way earlier on in the show or made it not so, and now walk with me here Ik its magic, unrealistic. That does sound strange but having Viktor suddenly float in space with white silver flowing hair and his dead assistent next to him was... very very out of no where. It was like a lazy show trying to get away with "yeah well it's magic so of course this works" and I hate that because even magic needs explanation and build up. So yeah. Either cut that shit out or have it established sooner. And while seeing the one person who helped Jayce as a kid did kind of help, it still wasn't enough for THIS, though again MY OPINION. Also we spent way too much time there, it was getting ridiculous. So much time could've easily been lent to stuff that actually needed it. I actually laughed out loud when Viktor started the healing process with Vander because come ON now, and I do not think they wanted me to laugh.

10. The stuff with Vander, Silco and Felicia (while cute) was unnecessary and weird. What I liked the most about Vander taking in Vi and Powder was the feeling that he didn't do it because he necessarily knew them very well but because he knew their mom was dead (that did show he and their mother did kind of know each other but so do like all the people in the lanes that is kind of established) and wanted to PROTECT. This new context sadly makes it feel like "well of course he stopped everything and took them with them and cared for them he knew them since birth, duh" when I always wanted to feel "well Vander is in his heart a good man who saw what terrible stuff this war and fighting did and then took in orphaned children because of course he would do that" if that makes sense? I feel this new thing took away so much from Vander, but again that's maybe just me.

11. So many jokes and scenes didn't land with me. The scene with Jinx trying to show Sevika her middle finger was SO GOOD and so Arcane that seeing the scene were they try to make it funny with Jinx's trousers and that enforcerer felt so out of place? Like what. That scene could have EASILY been cut and nothing would have changed at all. And that's what is the worst because there isn't one scene in season 1 that I feel could've been cut and there are so many of them in season 2.

12. Introducing Maddie in act 1 made me believe she'd be a bigger, even more of a threat to Zaun, character than she was and that's so sad. What I loved about season 1 is that every single character mattered. Even those we saw maybe once. This time around I hardly cared at all for any new character because they didn't feel like a Person anymore, they just felt like Plot. In season 1 episode 1 there is this scene, the first scene Vander gets to speak in. The only reason Huck meets the woman and the man to trait was basically so we get to know how the undercity works and establish Vander as basically its leader and protecter; The one people are loyal to etc. But it doesn't feel that way. It's something that naturally happens and every character in that scene, even the man and the woman we never see again, mattered and felt real.

yeah so those were really just my thoughts. I could very much go on but I also don't want to.

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