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m00nsbaby · 10 months

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Sleepwalking. (Already over II)

Steven Grant ( + Marc Spector) x F! Reader.

First part: Already Over.

Next part: Clumsy.

Tags & warnings. Angst, like, just angst. Steven hurts his hand at the beggining so there's blood involved, Marc is kind of a... jerk.

Word count. 3.8k

Summary.

What a shame, what a shame, what a shame, It's all fun and games 'til you don't wanna play now. Run away, run away, run away, It's easy to say but it's harder to say now. You're onto something else, I'm a picture left on your shelf. The dream's a lie I tell myself Feel like I'm sleepwalking when you're gone.

The moment the bomb detonated was more horrible than Marc had imagined. Not only because of Steven, who in his mind was the worst of his problems, but because the moment you closed the door behind you, it felt as if you had taken his heart with you.

Marc collapsed on the floor, unable to cry, even if he wanted to. He wasn't like Steven; he couldn't just let it flow, but at this moment, it seemed more like he was in shock.

He wondered, did that really happen or am I just dreaming?

His body tensed for a few seconds; he closed his eyes tightly, and before he could protest, Steven had taken control of the body. He had struggled so hard to keep him in the shadows that his body felt exhausted, with a horrible burning sensation in his muscles.

"Marc?" he questioned out loud, still on the floor. "Marc? What did you do?"

There was no response, and he could only swallow hard as if it would help wash away the bad taste in his mouth.

"What did you do, Marc?" Sometimes the best part of having Steven was having a way to express his pain. By the third time he asked, his voice was already broken, his vision blurred by the tears that threatened to come out at any moment.

Finally, the other one had the courage to respond.

"L-Layla knows," was the only thing that sounded in the headspace.

"How am I going to fix this, Marc?" Memories of what happened just a few minutes ago came to him in flashes; he didn't have the whole conversation because Marc had forced him to stay in the shadows.

The mere image of your heartbroken gaze was enough to cause nightmares for the rest of his life, whether he managed to fix Marc's mistake or not.

"I don't care; I don't care about her!" He sobbed with anger coursing through him from head to toe. At this point, his pain seemed more physical than emotional. He felt exactly like that time when he was impaled multiple times in Cairo.

But worse. At that time, he had a suit to protect him. How would he deal with this now without anything to shield him?

"You can't go on like this, Steven, we can't…"

As if his body moved automatically, he headed for the nearest mirror, the one where you had sought him out for help. His hands stopped on the edge of the sink, and he stared fixedly at himself in the mirror.

Tears flowed freely, seeking to heal a wound the size of his chest.

"I hate you," he whispered with a voice shattered, Marc looked back at him trying to maintain his composure. The pain of a broken heart combined with his constant battle with pride; he would never admit that he might be wrong. "You ruined it, Marc, you ruined everything."

"I did? I ruined everything?" Marc's ironic laughter made his blood boil. "I told you a damn million times, Steven!" The screams made him startle, but he was determined to hide his weakness. He was finally ready to face him. "I told you to stay away from her; was it fair to snatch away the one thing I have?"

Steven's fist went straight to the mirror. He didn't break it, but he shattered the reflection of Marc into many small pieces, and his knuckles were bleeding in a matter of seconds.

"My life is made to support yours." When Steven's fixed gaze met his, Marc had time to question how they had come to this after supposedly fixing things. Was this also his entire fault? "And I understood it, I swear to God I did." Sometimes he had to pause to sniff through his nose. "All I've done is give everything for you, and you took away everything I had."

There was only silence from the other side of the mirror.

"You took her away from me, Marc." His voice gradually lowered; suddenly, he reverted to the old Steven, with a broken heart and his guard down. The one that made him think so much of his younger brother. "What do I have in life if it's not her?"

More silence. Of course, Steven was in the same predicament as him, clinging to something that brought them happiness.

The difference was that for him, it wasn't exactly Layla.

"We were happy with Layla." His broken voice was barely perceptible.

"You were happy." He looked at his fingers, as the blood continued to run through them. "You were happy with stability, happy hiding from problems with stupid adventures that make you forget how bad your life is outside of there."

The amount of resentment in his voice was terrifying. Painful.

"You were happy pretending to be someone you're not." He closed his eyes, letting the tears flow freely. "You were happy pretending I didn't exist."

"S-Steven, I, I, don't…"

There was no more conversation at that moment. Not for the rest of the day. Or the night. Marc was a silent witness to how Steven cried until his throat was raw, how his entire body trembled, and how an nauseating knot formed in his stomach, paralyzing all his muscles.

The next day was a nightmare worse than the previous one. For the first time in a long while, Steven was able to sleep the hours that a normal human needed to function, but the problem was that, of course, these hours had been filled with nightmares and dreams where only you were present. Waking up to the reality where everything was worse was an emotional burden that filled his eyes with tears in the first minutes of regaining consciousness.

Well, he had to start trying. He picked up his phone, the one you always teased him about because it was the oldest phone you had ever seen.

First call, first voicemail.

"Love? Could you answer the calls? I really need to talk to you, I'm so sorry for the things Marc said yesterday."

Second call, second voicemail.

"I'm so sorry, really, please, please answer, okay? I need you."

Third call, third voicemail.

"It was never my intention to hurt you," and yes, for a change, Steven was taking responsibility for Marc's mistakes. "And I know it wasn't his either, he's just… damaged and scared. Please, love, please, let's talk."

Fourth call, fourth voicemail.

"We can't throw away all our plans, love." He didn't fear that you could hear his sobs or the way he struggled for breath between sentences. "I want to be with you. I want to be with you until the last day of my life, please, please."

The fifth call didn't go through. It seemed like you had turned off your phone. Fifth voicemail.

"I know you don't want to see me right now." He had to clear his throat before speaking again. "I just want to talk to you. It's all I'm asking for, it doesn't have to be now, just give me a sign that I can come closer, I'm begging you."

He didn't give up. If it were up to his anxiety, his love, or his fear of abandonment, he would have called you a total of 20 times per hour. But he knew you wanted and needed space. All that was left was to pray that you would hear his messages and give him the slightest sign of life.

In the end, he returned to bed, laying face down, and closed his eyes for just a few seconds.

"Steven?"

"What?"

"The body."

"Huh?"

"Give me the body."

"What do you mean…?"

"I need to go talk to Layla."

"You must be kidding." Steven barely lifted his head to see the mirror resting on one of the furniture next to his bed.

The one he never touched because it had a lipstick mark from you in one corner. A perfectly formed kiss. There was Marc.

"Tell me you're joking."

"Give me the body or I will take it from you."

Steven had no strength to fight, he relented and hoped for a little peace in the darkness of his mind.

That afternoon, Marc apologized tirelessly, and yes, he preferred a million times to falsely accept that he had had an affair than to confess Steven's existence.

"Forgive me, okay? I made a mistake." His hands cradled Layla's face between them. Of course, he had made a mistake, although he didn't specify what kind.

"You're an idiot, Marc." And he couldn't help but think that yes, indeed, he was. There weren't many more words exchanged between them, but unfortunately, this relationship was an imbalanced scale.

It was about two people who simply didn't know how to deal with their emotions, didn't know how to communicate with each other, and undoubtedly had never dealt with their emotional baggage separately to understand that they needed to work to become better.

He couldn't help but notice the parallel. He doesn't remember the romantic part of your relationship with Steven because Steven himself took great care to hide it perfectly, but Marc is aware of every aspect of what your friendship was.

He remembers every argument, if they could even be called that. You two never raised your voices, never.

And you, as the apparent best friend, knew Marc's story inside out, you were never one to raise your voice, but you were always careful not to trigger a bad memory in Steven.

On his part, Steven was incredible at listening. He listened attentively, didn't interrupt, and when you finished talking, he would explain his perspective. You didn't always reach an agreement, that was obvious, but you always knew that you both were much more important to each other than any silly disagreement.

Marc thought about how he would have liked to be as honest as Steven was when Layla's lips were on him. When his way of clarifying things was to have the grossest sex of both their lives.

Usually, the best part of spending these kinds of nights with her was that it meant a mental break with you in exactly two days. Although Steven never understood why you refused to see him the next day, Marc always knew why you felt disgusted. In fact, he understood perfectly, but he never had the courage to tell you that he was sorry.

Thinking that not only were you in love with Steven but that you were also a couple fueled his self-disgust even more.

"I love you, Marc." That was the last thing he heard before leaving his wife's house, which at every moment felt more like a stranger to him.

He didn't respond, and like everyone else around him, she settled for it because everyone always accommodates themselves to Marc Spector's wishes.

Each passing hour, you were crumbling in a worse way. Probably "dead inside" was one of the best ways to describe your current state.

The stages of grief were starting to attack you, very slowly, but you didn't want to be rational because calling it "grief" would mean that you had lost Steven forever.

And you had, but you didn't want to think about that. After all, you were still in the first stage, denial.

It took you a few hours to decide to listen to his voicemails.

"My baby." You whispered to yourself as your arms clung to one of the many garments you had stolen from him. His navy blue sweater that was too long on the sleeves.

You felt ridiculous.

You sobbed forcefully, your cheek had been tingling for a while from the warmth and moisture of your tears on the pillow. Did the breakup hurt? Of course, it hurt to the core, but after hearing his broken voice on the other end of the line, what was probably hurting you the most was knowing that Steven was suffering.

It felt like they were being forcibly torn apart, although it had felt that way from the moment their relationship began. The rope had been tightening around each of you, pulling you apart at the cost of permanently hurting them.

You were sure you would never love anyone the way you loved and still love Steven. Steven would rather vanish than even imagine a life with someone else.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." You whispered as the fabric of his sweater covered part of your face, with the sole purpose of sniffing and recapturing a bit of his scent. The garment had been in your possession for so long that you could barely perceive Steven in it anymore.

You apologized for not being more discreet, for, in your opinion, ruining your perfect relationship, maybe for not knowing how to keep your distance when there was still time. You apologized for being so deeply in love that you felt like you couldn't live without him, for choosing to look out for yourself instead of running into his arms, and for any inconveniences you might have caused Marc one day.

Steven and you were on autopilot. Barely eating, barely breathing, barely existing.

You somehow managed to get up and shower after receiving the call from the pet adoption center confirming that the form you and Steven had filled out had been approved, and now you just had to go for 3 days, 2 hours to visit your future pet.

A part of you momentarily thought about ignoring the call, you were so broken that the mere thought of that visit together ended up squeezing your heart painfully, not to mention that the whole plan from the beginning was for the cat to belong to both of you.

Your rational side was always stronger than you, you couldn't leave the little one without a home. Besides, maybe you needed the company.

Perhaps he would do you good, and you would do everything possible to do right by him.

Needless to say, on the first day of bonding, you cried until your lungs hurt, with the little kitten in your arms. He was so affectionate, providing excellent comfort, but you didn't stop crying for a single moment during the 2 hours.

Then you cried more on the way back home because you had to say goodbye to him.

On the second day, you only cried half of the visit because when the cat started playing in front of you, it drew a small laugh from you for the way he twirled around.

On the last day, you found him waiting for you, ready to settle on your lap. It was as if he understood that you were exhausted, and his purring felt like receiving a hug. You were a perfect match.

Meanwhile, Marc was living days that were going from bad to worse. Steven refused to speak to him more than necessary, but everything hurt twice as much when the breakdowns started coming back. As he took another sip of his whiskey, he realized that this time he had nowhere to go, that he would probably never hear you say "I'm here" again to keep him sane, that your arms wouldn't surround him, and you wouldn't leave him a space in your bed that was a million times more comfortable than his. Accepting that he missed you churned his stomach. Because, of course, it wasn't the first time he had thought of you since you left, but it was the first time he lowered his guard enough to digest that all of this was his fault. That he had hurt you in a permanent way while you had only given him peace whenever you could. Steven understood that both of them were fucked up when he finally saw Marc cry. When Marc finally cracked.

Steven almost had a heart attack when he received a message from you. There was no text, just a photo of the kitten he recognized perfectly.

He wasn't aware of the smile that appeared on his face. One, he could see that the background of the photo was your apartment, which meant the kitten was already with you. Two, perhaps this meant that not everything was lost.

"Can I come see him?" He was biting his nails while waiting for your response. "Sure."

Steven left his apartment so quickly that his curls were still damp from the shower he took in a matter of seconds. He didn't care about being on the most crowded bus if it meant getting to your apartment faster.

Exactly 22 minutes after your message, he was standing at your door.

The smile on his face vanished when you opened the door. Both of you looked like a mess, in pain, and by this point, you had accepted that your eyes would be swollen and irritated for the rest of your days.

You didn't approach him for a hug like he thought would happen. You also took a few seconds to analyze him from head to toe.

He was as beautiful as ever. His messy curls made him look even more adorable. A meow echoed behind you, snapping you back to the present.

"Do you want to come in?"

"Please."

Everything was so… awkward. You stepped aside to let him in and closed the door behind him.

"Sekhmet?"

"Yes."

"I told you that's the name of a goddess, not a god," he said as he crouched down to pet the kitten, who seemed to recognize Steven. The little one rubbed against him, purring loudly, audible to both of you.

"And I told you I didn't care."

A nostalgic laugh escaped both of you. Why was all of this so difficult?

"Hello, Sekhmet." His pronunciation was perfect. You couldn't believe you had the love of your life in front of you after everything that happened.

And worse, you couldn't believe you were about to let him go, for the second time.

"He likes you." You whispered, watching them get to know each other with a lump in your throat. This was nothing like what you had imagined at first; this wasn't how things were supposed to go.

Everything was wrong.

"Steven?"

"Yes, love?" It rolled so casually off his tongue. You didn't remember Steven calling you by your name much, it was always "love" or "lovey" for him, and you were content with that.

This time, you felt a pang in your heart when he used the nickname.

"We have to do this." Your voice broke, and when he noticed your teary eyes, he understood the purpose of the visit. There was no way out of this.

"No, please." He looked up at you from the floor, still on his knees because the kitten refused to leave him. "Please, don't do this."

He broke down quickly too.

"I love you, Steven." Your hand went to his chin, holding him in a way that he couldn't look away from you. "And because I love you, it's only fair that we do this, you and I. Okay?"

He kept denying and denying. Ignoring the insistent meows, he stood up. Now you were the one who had to look up due to the difference in height.

Your heart rate increased with the closeness between you two.

"I don't want to say goodbye." The lump in his throat could be heard in his voice. "I don't want to be alone. I can't do it without you." You couldn't bear to tell him otherwise when you knew you were in the same position.

You stood on tiptoes and, without letting him continue, kissed his lips.

Even his kisses tasted like pain. They were desperate, almost violent in the way he clung to your waist and you to his neck.

You remained like that for a few minutes, tasting each other's tears on your lips until your lungs gave up. It felt like an eternity during which you exchanged kisses and embraced each other between sobs. It genuinely felt like you were tearing a part of yourselves away.

An eternity was not enough for either of you.

"Steven." Your hands on his chest pulled him away just a few centimeters from you to face him. His forehead rested against yours while he hiccuped from crying.

He was your little one. He always had been. Your sweet, sweet Steven. He deserved more than everything life was giving him, and in some way, you and Marc knew it.

"You have to go, okay?" He didn't respond, you just felt his fingers tighten their grip on your waist. "You will be fine, I know you will be." Your fingers roamed through his curls, messing them up even more, and you enjoyed their softness one last time.

"I won't be able to. L-Lovey, I w-won't…"

"Shhh. You will be able to, okay?" The tip of your nose gently brushed against his in an affectionate and intimate gesture. "You will get through this, and you will have the beautiful life that I've always known you deserve."

"I don't want it if it's not with you." His fingers crumpled your clothes from the force of holding onto you.

You lowered your hands to his and slowly made him let go, he shook his head again.

"You have to do this for Marc, okay?" You swallowed hard when his hands finally relented and let go of your waist. "And maybe, if it's meant to be, fate will let us know in the future. Okay?"

Bullshit.

You wanted to be with him now, and he wanted to be with you now, but you were grasping at every possible resource to try to make him understand.

"I need to be alone, okay?" You knew he wouldn't leave unless you hinted that you were uncomfortable with the situation.

Always so respectful, he took a step back and nodded, even though his hands were trembling. He didn't say anything, just looked at you as he stepped back again.

"I love you," you whispered, wiping your tears with the back of your hand.

"I love you." It was the only thing he could say. He was about to leave when his legs gave an awkward twitch.

Marc.

Steven looked down, frowning slightly at the momentary loss of control over his body. If Marc was going to object, now was the perfect time because Steven knew he was the only one who could fix this.

His stubbornness was the only obstacle preventing you from being happy.

And yes, Marc wanted to talk. But when he saw you, he knew he would never find the words to fix what he did.

His fear of change hit him again. Why was he regretting this when apparently this was what he wanted from the beginning?

He parted his lips and tried to say something that never came out of his throat. He gave up in seconds and basically fled your apartment, closing the probably happiest chapter of his life in a long time.

#jake lockley #marc spector #moon knight #steven grant #jake lockley x reader #marc spector x reader #marc spector x you #moon knight x reader #steven grant x reader #steven grant x you #moon knight x you #moon boys x reader #moon system x reader #oscar isaac x you #oscar isaac x reader

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ghouljams · 6 months

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And of course, Witch does notice him. She probably kind of hates him at first for always disrupting her prayers with his languid, confident footsteps as he enters her house under the guise of asking for a very specific remedy. She hates the way her stomach twists every time she sees his rugged face. She hates the way her mind goes blank for a second when his soft, yet commanding voice echoes in her ears.

And she despises how she can’t help but silently gush at every single one of his gifts. How she always puts them in places she just knows she will always see them, and how comforting their sight is. How she feels her gaze soften even just a little bit when he breathes a sigh of relief as she bandages his wounds an massages his sore muscles. How her shoulders suddenly feel heavy with worry every time he tells her he is about to leave for another expedition, barely managing to steel her voice when she tells him to come back in one piece (after all, it’s always a nightmare to rummage through the heavy northern snow to find the ingredients needed to take care of big injuries). How she immediately goes to ask the Gods to watch over him, her hands clutching the necklace he once gifted her.

And, most of all, she loathes the way she loves him, her mind distracting her with many thoughts of him when she has to tend to her duties. She is down bad, and he is too. It’s only a matter of time before they both crumble in each other’s arms under the delectable tension these feelings weave in between them.

Just a little headcanon. Mii is inspired. We love characters who can fit in multiple AUs.

Mii do you wanna just take over for me because holy shit. I literally sat up and rolled my shoulders let's fucking go, I gotta write some fic, I'm inspired but I don't think I can match that because GOD. The mutual pining.

There are small things you do to prepare for men to come home. There are big things too, of course, you bind winds with your staff, you ask the gods for protection, you bless the wives with their husband's safe return. But the small things... You change out the furs you wear, return the silky pelts to their usual hanging place so you don't seem too fond of the man that gifted them. The same with your buckles, your brooches, your necklace. You twist a thin silver band around your finger, like a branch from a willow tree it always strikes you as too delicate to come from a viking. There's no filigree to it, not stones, no patterns, it's simple and well loved.

You do these small things because you loathe the man they represent. He's a distraction from your duties, he clouds your judgement, pulls the spirits from you. He watches you with such bare affection in his eyes that you wonder how it would be to be his wife. How it would feel to wake up every morning to those hands cradling you. Only to have him leave you, the same way he always does.

The gods whisper to you as you sit in front of their alter. Dissonant, clouded by the spirits that guard their realm. Chills wrack your body, your mind far away, drifting through the different planes searching for some new prophecy or vision that might keep your man somewhere closer. (They come to you in dreams, and tell you of new lands, new people, force you on to the elders and tell them to send out a party. You'll never be free of this awful wanting.)

The spirits pull your head back, arch your back painfully to look at the intruder in your temple. "You're always in such a rush to get back here," They tell him, voices overlapping, "is she really so special to you?"

"Of course," Price breathes, his shoulders heaving to compensate for his run to the temple from the shore. His feet carrying his heavy body to stand behind you, what are a few steps when you're at the end of them? He watches as you jerk forward and spit henbane seeds from your mouth, coughing and sucking in breaths to shake the trance. He crouches, his hands reaching for your shaking form. Völva don't live long if there's no one to care for them. It's the spirits, the elders say, no living creature can hold the dead without joining them a little each time.

Your fingers scrape the floor, nails digging into the wood and furs that surround the alter. Hands touch your back, familiar enough to make you shiver and tip your head to look at the man you always send so far away from you.

"Welcome back," He tells you, his voice so soft it feels like a blow. You look away from him, fix your eyes on the carved wood of Freyja's statue.

"I should be telling you that."

Price hums, his hands leave you. It's freezing without their warmth. You're frozen without his warmth, doomed to this until it takes you the way it takes every völva. Stuck, until Hel calls you home. You hate this man, you shouldn't love him the way you do. He shouldn't entertain your affections the way he does. He shouldn't encourage them.

"I brought you something." His furs rustle behind you as you collect yourself. You hear the leather cord of a pouch open and you sit up with a sigh. When he doesn't follow up or press anything into your hands you turn to ask him what he's brought. He presses a berry against your lips and like a fool you take it. It's a slightly bitter burst on your tongue, crushed gently by your teeth into something almost sweet. You eye the pouch in his hands, the bright red and orange berries inside. You feel yourself soften a little, smiling when you meet his affectionate stare.

"Rowan berries," You half ask, your voice feels lighter, gentler, "Thank you." It sticks like a knife in his chest. Something so simple makes you look at him like that, like coming home. Gods what he wouldn't do for you.

He's never seen you use any of his other gifts, doesn't even know if you've kept them. Price had thought something edible would go over well, easier to make sure you were satisfied with it. You reach for another berry out of the bag, the thin strip of silver around your finger glinting in the firelight. His ring. The first thing he'd gifted you, when he'd been overcome by the need to have any foothold in your life. You look up at him through your lashes, pop another red berry in your mouth with a questioning hum.

"Are you alright?" You ask, deft fingers reaching to inspect him, "You're not injured are you?" The concern in your voice might kill a weaker man, surely no one can hold up under your care. Not when you look at them like that.

"No," Price chokes out, gritting his teeth as your fingers brush his skin, "No injuries to report, we've got a healer now so-"

"You don't need me?" You smile when you say it, like a joke, but there's sorrow in your eyes. Price can't stop himself from cupping your face, your soft skin under his rough hand is intoxicating. It makes his heart clench painfully. Can't you see he's trying to ease your burden? Are you truly so wrapped up in völva that you've lost sight of any other value you might have?

"What would I do without you sweetheart?" He whispers. There's a pain in your eyes he can't name. It hurts to see you turn away from his hand. To see you smooth your hands over your dress as you stand, offer him your hand to help him up. You smile, some mask closing off your eyes from him.

"Well, we might as well go and greet the men," You pull on your duties like a well worn cloak, more völva than person when you pluck your staff from the ground, "do our jobs for the elders."

It's a reminder to both of you. The spirits aren't the only ones that keep their eyes on you. Price nods, and follows you out of the temple, pressing the pouch into your hands as he goes.

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creepzkilla · 1 year

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STAY STILL. .ᵃᵏⁱ ʰᵃʸᵃᵏᵃʷᵃ

(.｡*☆) --synopsis mean!aki despises you, so he decides to shut you up for once

(.｡*☆) --warning fem! reader, mean! aki, kinda dub-con? pressing a lit cigarette on someone's skin, smoke play?, pain kink, hate sex, tough sex, choking, overstim, aki gets hella pissed...

(.｡*☆) --authors note NOT PROOF READ yall need to give my CSM drabbles some more love.. man fuck gojo.. yall hyping up his drabbles too much... aki needs love too tf??? :(((( imma be honest this shit is ass

—(“𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊, 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐏 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆.” Aki sneered, flicking the ash off of his cigarette before taking a long drag. his long and coordinated thrusts became erratic, unpredictable almost. his cock dug deep into you, your gummy walls squeezing tight around him; milking him perfectly as the base of your ass slammed against his stomach.

a harsh slap came down on the meat of your ass, you hissed in pain, your grip on the kitchen counter; tightening. the room was filled with the sound of wet slapping and shrill moans that seemed to almost echo. surely your neighbors were pissed off.

aki’s cock seemed to fit you perfectly. the way his cock filled you up, rubbing up against your ribbed walls that you can’t get enough of. his tip rammed against the entrance of your cervix as your defeaning moans began to silence. your mouth hung open as pathetic whimpers came out— unable to form a full moan.

“God, you’re so fucking annoying,” aki’s cock thrusted into you deep, making you emit a hearty wail, “if I could just have you like this twenty-four- seven, then maybe, you wouldn’t be so frustrating.” his bucking hips slow down to an agonizingly slow pace as his palm strikes the skin of your ass again, forcing a yelp passed your lips. his rough hands grab a chunk of your ass to grip onto as his slow thrusts managed to hit every nerve in your bullied pussy.

“akiii…” you whine, trying to push your ass against his stomach to gain for friction, “pleasee…go faster.” your slurred words were laced with desperation as his cock slide in and out of you at a terribly slow pace.

his palms dug into the meat of your waist—bouncing you on his aching cock. aki watched as your tight walls swallowed his length, over and over again, relishing the sight. his teeth dug into his bottom lip as he attempts to hold back a string of groans.

“shut up already, slut.” aki scoffed, taking a puff of his cigarette, tapping the ash off onto your ass, and burning you in the process. you hiss from the pain, the hot ash digging into your skin.

your head turns to the side, attempting to look at Aki through your peripheral vision, "be more careful, will you? I don't need your cancer stick to fucking burn me." you sneer, staring daggers at the man behind you, who only looked at you in amusement.

"oh really?"

a grin stretched across aki's pink lips, a mischievous one. his slow strokes began picking up speed again, ramming into you at an insatiable pace. aki took another drag from his cigarette, letting the ash burn down to his fingertips before flicking the rest of the ash onto your ass.

you jerk your body as a reaction to the hot embers, making aki's member slip out of your wet hole, the cold of the winter air brushing against your exposed genitals.

you crane your head to the side again, "Aki I'm fucking serious, you do that shit again--" your voice was cut off as aki's hands wrapped around your throat, positioning his cock at your seeping hole, rubbing his angry tip against your arousal. his stomach molded into the arch of your spine, pressing up completely against you as his nails continue to dip into your nape.

"Stay still." he seethed, stuffing his cock back into your needy cunt, feeding deep and fast strokes to your aching core, "You might just get burned again."

his grip on your throat tightens, as he lights another cigarette, his second one tonight. unlike the first one, he doesn't let it burn down to his fingertips, he takes a long drag before turning your head to the side. Using his free hand--keeping his other hand on your throat-- he parts your lips, placing his lips against yours, blowing in the secondhand smoke.

you sputter into a coughing fit, "what," you say in between your heaving," the fuck aki?" he cuts you off with a deep kiss, his teeth biting into your bottom lip as he attempts to keep up with sloppy thrusts leaving you a moaning mess, the knot in your stomach tightening.

the taste of smoke is fresh as he explores your mouth, and your tongues completely developed with each other. this wasn't a meaningful kiss filled with love but a kiss filled with hatred and possessiveness. aki pulls back, sweat sticking to his forehead: breathless. a hateful yet fulfilling kiss.

"Youre. Mine." he groans, ramming into your insides as he takes another hit, letting the ass burn down to the tip of his fingers again, pushing the hot red embers into your skin. you screech, outstretching your fingers as a dark burn mark forms on the backside of your ass.

he presses the cigarette into the meat of your ass again, singeing the skin beneath it. your scream is a mixture of pleasure and pain, your tight hole clamping around him. the pain, just felt so good. the only thing you could do was moan at the burned embers as they dug into your skin.

"fuck," you whimper, barely able to get any words out from his tight grip on your neck, "you." you spat as your eyes rolled into the back of your head. you could barely muster any type of reaction; you were practically speechless.

aki laughed, "I am." his hips, rolled against your tight cunt. his pace slowing down to long and deep strokes that sent you over the edge.

you hate the way your body reacts to him, you hate the way that you'll be on your knees any time he asks. you especially hate the way that he always makes you cream on his cock, without fail.

your pussy gushed around his cock, your arousal dripping down your legs, leaving a thick ring of cream behind on his cock. a barrage of whimpers and screams leave your mouth as your body shakes from your intense orgasm, your grip on the kitchen counter deteriorating completely. your knees buckle from exhaustion as aki picks up your numb legs, flipping so you're now finally facing him.

aki's normal up kept black hair was disheveled, wet with sweat and other bodily fluids from a few minutes before all this. the rising winter sun peaked from through the blinds behind him, illuminating his figure,

fuck, you hate how good he always looks.

aki places you on the counter, his cock still embedded in your womb. his rough hands move to your thighs in an attempt to keep you from falling over. without warning, he rocks his hips into you, kissing the far corner of your cervix.

you whimper from the overstimulation as your eyes focus on his thick cock sliding in and out of you with ease. you couldn't help but throw your head back from the pleasure being too much for you.

aki's heavy breathes grew ragged and short as his cock continued to position in and out of your sloppy cunt. his cock twitched inside of your gummy walls before painting your inside white with his cum. you about came again yourself as his cum filled you up to the brim.

he shudders, pulling out his now limp cock as his cum seeped out of your red hole. you lay there, breathless, as your chest rises and falls rapidly, desperate to catch your breath. you are completely and utterly, fucked out. so you lay there on the counter, watching the man in front of you with hatred.

aki pulls up his clad black boxers from his knees, zipping up his dark blue jeans. he turns to you, his chest heaving from exhaustion, his baby blue eyes starting daggers at you—but for one moment, you see a hint of adoration in them.

“so…how do you feel about shower sex?”

#chainsaw man #chainsaw man imagine #chainsaw man smut #chainsaw man x reader #csm manga #aki x reader #hayakawa aki x reader #aki hayakawa x y/n #csm aki #aki hayakawa x reader #hayakawa aki #aki hayakawa #aki smut #aki drabble #aki smut drabble #aki headcanons

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starcrossedxwriter · 10 months

Text

Wicked Fantasies Part 2 (MBJ x OC)

Warnings: noneeeee

“You fuckin’ idiot!” Alex seethed, the clicks of her heels reverberated throughout Michael’s living room as she stalked, TMZ playing loudly in the background. “What part of ‘cleaning up the image’ was difficult to understand?”

Michael gripped the back of his chair in his office in frustration. It was not just the shitty situation he found himself in when he woke up this morning, it was also his manager’s attitude. However, he did not correct Alex. He had been working with her for most of his career and the reason Alex had lasted this long was that she was unafraid of calling Michael a ‘fucking idiot’ if he was acting like one.

“Why didn’t you just call the ambulance and then wait to leave? Did you need to do the walk of shame across the hotel lobby with her??”

Michael scoffed. “If you think I’m that type of nigga, you really don’t know me. She was unconscious. How was I supposed to know there were fuckin’ cameras in the lobby??”

Alex threw his hands up in the air. “Because it’s 2022 at the fucking St. Regis! There’re cameras every fuckin’ where! Do you think I have you go in back doors and service elevators for fucking fun??? Because it is easier??? Why do you insist on making my job harder?? Do you hate me or something? We’re on the biggest run of your fucking career. And you jeopardize it for some pussy?”

Michael’s fingers massaged his temples. He had not gotten a single break in the last three days. He felt like he was stuck in the deepest circle of hell since he drove off from Raven’s apartment days prior. Every moment of his day was consumed with one thought, one singular person: Raven. What was she doing? How was she healing? Did she come up with the money she needed? Should he write her a check and drop it off anonymously? Would she even accept that or appreciate it? Question after question ran through his brain regardless of how hard he tried to excommunicate her from it. She was stuck to him like super glue. He replayed their one night together over and over again, jerking off on more than one occasion dreaming of the things he wished to do to her body. So many disgusting and filthy things.

This disgusting pining lasted for two days before he gave in, last night, and called Helen to schedule another date with her. And it was not even about the sex. She had a concussion so he would not feel comfortable fucking even if she was up for it. He just wanted to see her, check in on her. And that terrified him. Never had a one-night stand or woman he paid to sleep with captured his mind quite like this. He loved fucking Tasha but he did not pine for her or even really think about her outside when he was horny and needed release. But Raven… she was something he had never experienced before. And he hated it. So in a split second decision, he booked Tasha instead, in hopes that fucking another woman would get her out of his mind once and for all. And it worked for a moment. The few hours of sleep he got after leaving Tasha was the first Raven-free sleep he had gotten until he woke up to his face plastered all over TMZ as he followed the EMTs wheeling her out of the hotel.

The angle of the camera blocked her face, thankfully, but there was no mistaking him. The media ran with their own stories, some neutral and some speculating things Michael would never have dreamed of. It was a PR nightmare, which is why his manager was at his house to do damage control. However, Michael did not particularly care about his own reputation. He just worried if there was another angle with Raven’s face visible. He was used to being in the press, often for being attached to different random women, but Raven did not seem like the type who would enjoy such attention. And he did not even have her number to call and satisfy the small part of him that wanted to check in on her. The part of him he despised.

“Are you even listening to me??” Alex called out, ending her rant to realize Michael’s mind was clearly elsewhere.

Michael straightened up and pushed Raven out of his head for a moment, a true feat.

“My bad. Look, I didn’t jeopardize anything. You can’t even see her face! Besides, no matter what the press says, everyone loves me, we’re good.”

Alex shook her head. “That isn’t the point. You don’t think they won’t try to figure out who this girl is?? Try to piece together some story about something nefarious or terrible that happened? You were seen leaving a hotel with an unconscious woman… there are only a couple ways I can spin this shit that it doesn’t look bad for you. And just so you’re clear, people want to fuck you. They don’t love you. At best, people think you’re neutral and at worst, they think you’re an asshole. The only thing they all agree on is that you’re one of those things with extreme talent, a cute face and award-winning smile. So they ignore that ambiguity because because every woman and some men want to fuck you.”

Michael walked over to his decanter, pouring himself a glass of whiskey. He did not care that it was 10 am, it was 5 pm somewhere in the world, he supposed.

“And now you’re drinking at 10 a.m. Should I add a stint in rehab to my list of things to spin this week?”

Michael chose to ignore that dig. “You made your point, Alexandra. I’m sorry. I’m an ass,” he admitted, which he knew was true. He would never win an award for sweetest personality. “So what can we do? What are the ways we can spin it?”

She shrugged. “Well, the truth would be fine… embarrassing but unproblematic IF she wasn’t a prostitute. I’m all for the girls getting their money but now really isn’t the time in our culture for you to be attached to a prostitute.”

“It’s 2022, who cares if I pay for sex?”

“I think people care if you paid for sex and it was so rough you sent her to the damn hospital, Mike. That’s what people would care about. And then it’s a whole other thing… did she want it that rough, did she know it would be that rough, did she consent to whatever caused the accident? And the answer to all of those could be yes and we could say that but without her word, it’s murky as fuck. And then it begs reporters to ask the question, are there women with sorted tales of rough sex with Hollywood’s favorite movie star that they didn’t want even if this one was consensual? Also I don’t necessarily think it’s a good time to admit to the world that you pay for sex damn near every week.”

“Plenty of men pay for sex, Alex.”

“Sure and that’s fine. But people judge them too. When you’re handsome and could just be in a relationship. Look, I’m not judging but it sends a certain playboy, unattached message. And that shit was fine when you were 30 but we’re pushing 40. And you’re the one that said when Creed 3 comes out next year, you want to take the jump to directing more. Producers, studios need to see you as a serious person to take you seriously as a director. Denzel is serious, George Clooney is serious, John Krasinki is serious, Kevin Costner is serious. And studios trust them with projects because they are serious people! You know what all those men have in common?? They are settled, family men with beautiful wives who are kick ass in their own right and they DON’T frequent prostitutes! Or if they do, we don’t fucking know it because they aren’t plastered on TMZ. Look, I say this with all the love in the world for you… but you’re the definition of an unserious person and I need you to get serious before you’re a fucking 45, washed up actor wasting his incredible talent playin’ the same role in every action movie because no one takes you seriously.”

Michael nodded. “I hear you. And I understand. I promised I’d clean it up and I slipped. But we can fix this… we always do. If the truth works, why don’t we just say that-”

“Did you listen to anything I just said?” Alex immediately started to say before Michael cut her off.

“With a minor lie… We say it was my girlfriend. We were enjoying a night after partying, had sex, fell off the bed, she hit her head, I took her to the hospital out of an abundance of caution. And we turn it back on the media and say they infringed on a private moment between us by turning a health emergency into a public spectacle.”

Alex rubbed her forehead. “Thank God you are attractive,” she muttered to herself. “I mean in theory, that’s the ideal play but there’s one major flaw in that plan, you’re tragically single. Like I’ve known you for a decade and you’ve never even been romantically tied with a woman for more than a night. I can’t sell a girlfriend that doesn’t exist anymore than I can sell magic at Hogwarts. And there’s no woman that we could pass off as this girl in time. ”

“What if we say it’s Raven… the actual girl?” The words slipped out of his mouth before he could stop himself. There were flaws in the plan, he could recognize that. But he wanted to see her again and this might be his only option to do so.

“I’m all for a PR relationship, don’t get me wrong. They can be successful. But it won’t help you if and when one of her old clients comes out later and tells the world she was a prostitute. Then we are back where we started but worse because everyone knows you were in a fake relationship.”

Michael shook his head. “Nah, nah, she’s perfect. I was her first real date so there are no clients to come out to say shit. Helen is hella strict with her girls, no press, so if I had to guess, she’s gonna fire her,” though the thought frustrated him as she did nothing wrong. “So there’ll be no record of her working for an agency. We can say we were tryin’ to keep it under wraps because she isn’t used to the spotlight. I haven’t been seen with a fling in months so we can say it’s fairly new. Besides, if there’s a camera with an angle on her face, it covers our asses.”

Michael did not want to admit why he was fighting so hard to enter into a fake relationship with Raven. Did not want to admit it to Alex or himself. This was a dangerous plan, he knew it. There were so many reasons it was foolish and would fall apart. But he did not care about a single one of those reasons. He reasoned that this was a logical course of action. She was probably the best person to enter a fake relationship with too. She understood how to put on a show and what she was being paid for and knew that no feelings would be involved. This would be a mere business transaction, he would get her and his own feelings out of his system, and everyone would be happy.

“It… could work,” she admitted. “But you’d have to keep up a public relationship with all the fixings for at least six months to sell it. You’d have to do everything I say, NO more visits with Tasha or any other woman. We’d need to get through the premiere of your current film next month, the holidays, the Creed premiere, nominations, and the Oscars in March before you could break it off. Would she even agree to that? Most of these relationships work because it’s mutually beneficial. You know another celebrity who could use the PR bump. What would even be in it for her?”

“Let me worry about that, aight? Just trust me. I messed up, let me fix it this time. My first step as a serious person.” He flashed her his award winning smile, which made Alex laugh.

“You realize I am the only woman on the planet that shit doesn’t work on?”

He shrugged. “You’ve stuck by me this long… I think it works on you too,” he winked at her.

“Barely,” she mumbled. She stared at him for a moment before surrendering to his plan. She did not really have a better one at the moment. “Fine. I can give you 12 hours to convince her. We need to get a statement out tomorrow morning. Fix this, Mike.”

“Consider it already fixed,” he vowed, determined to clean up his own image and get what he wanted in the process.

***

“Helen, please! I need this job!”

“And I can’t have my girls plastered across Page Six and TMZ. Press brings attention I don’t need.”

“You can’t even see my face!” Raven argued. “No one knows it’s me. Please don’t do this.”

She knew Helen could hear her pleas but she also knew the woman did not care. “Honey, the internet will figure out who you are like that,” Raven could hear the faint snap of fingers through her phone. “And I can’t have you on my roster when they do. I told you if it went left, you were out. Gotta cut you loose.”

“B-” The phone cut out as Helen hung up on her, clearly exhausted from arguing when there was no changing her mind.

Raven slid back into bed and tried to keep the tears from falling. Not out of pride this time, she was alone with no one to hear her sobs. But she knew crying would only make the dull pain in her head worse. She tried to hold it in until it became difficult to breath, small gasps filling her quiet bedroom. She grabbed her pillow and forced it over her face to muffle them as they turned into all out sobs.

Helen was right, the internet would realize who she was in no time. And then her life would truly be over. She’d never get a job anywhere ever again, she’d likely lose the day job she had right now. She shuddered to think what her family would say. Likely, it would give her father the excuse he always wanted to toss her out of their lives for good, but part of her felt like that might have been the one silver lining to everything. And before that shoe dropped, she would have to figure out the larger looming financial problems barreling toward her. While her bills were just barely covered with her job and residuals, she had not come up with the rest of the money she promised her family and her only way of making fast cash was gone. .

She just needed a break, a break from the stress of life. The last 18 months had been hell and she just felt like she was dragging around a weight that only got heavier and heavier. But if she stopped or put it down, everything would crumble. She was exhausted and worn out. She curled up in her bed, crying to herself, praying God would send something to help her and fast.

***

Michael knocked at the door of Raven’s apartment. If he hadn’t been there a mere three days prior, he would’ve been convinced his driver took him to the wrong address. He teetered on his heels for a moment or two until the door swung open.

“Hello?” The young woman, a cute curly-haired light skin girl, opened the door. “Oh umm can I help you?”

Michael could tell she recognized him, however, he gave her kudos for not completely melting and losing all common sense like most women do when they saw him.

“Hi, I have the right building but I might have the wrong apartment,” he admitted. “Looking for Raven?”

“Oh yea, she’s in her room. Come in. She’s a bit under the weather though… not sure if she’s up for company,” she gave him an apologetic shrug before calling out for Raven. “Rae!”

Michael glanced around their small apartment. Though the building and neighborhood left a lot to be desired in his opinion, their apartment was a cute two bedroom. Fairly small, he decided, for two people, but it was quaint. His eyes went to the floor to ceiling bookshelf tucked in the corner. It was clear someone had started off extremely meticulous and organized with it, each row perfectly color coordinated. However, the person had acquired too many books to maintain that level of organization, many sat in neat stacks on the floor in front of the bookshelf, growing so tall, they obscured the bottom shelf.

“That girl consumes books like they’re air,” her roommate remarked, following Michael’s line of sight to the bookshelf.

He did not even get to acknowledge her statement when one of the closed doors off the living room opened.

Raven emerged, her eyes red and puffy, all of her curly hair piled on top of her head with a bright colored scarf.

“What’s up Tiff?” Her words were punctured by sniffles, which let Michael know she had been crying.

An inexplicable wave of concern hit him. He could guess what had caused it and immediately felt guilty, an emotion he rarely felt about anything.

“You have a visitor?”

Raven glanced up, almost jumping when she realized Michael B. Jordan was standing in her living room. He watched as she hastily wiped her eyes and glanced down at her disheveled appearance. She still looked insanely beautiful, even in an oversized sweatshirt and leggings.

“Umm.. h-hi. T-thanks, Tiff. W-what are you doing here?”

“You two know each other?”

“Yea we met the other night… at that party…” She shook her head quietly as Michael started to open his mouth. “Umm wanna talk in my room?” She gestured toward her bedroom, Michael nodding as he followed her.

“Nice to meet you,” he threw over his shoulder to Tiffany as he followed Raven back into her room. Her face was neutral as she ushered him inside and shut the door behind him.

She had never been more displeased to see anyone in her life. Her date with him was supposed to be her big break and all it did was send her tumbling back to the bottom again. She was not mad at him, he had done nothing wrong. But between her concussion and the inability to stop thinking about him for the last three days and now losing her job, it was all too much to handle. And she knew he only came down there to talk about the photo and ensure she was not going to say anything to the media.

“What are you doing here? In case you were confused, this counts as creepy stalker shit! Like right up there at the top of the list!”

Michael was not expecting her visceral reaction to him, one of anger. However, he did not let it deter him.

“I needed to talk to you.”

“About the photo?” she rushed out, just wanting to get him out of her room so she could go back to wallowing. “Look, you wasted a trip. I already lost my job so if they figure out it was me, it’ll just look like a one-night stand. And I don’t plan on selling our wild night together to a magazine or anything if that’s what you’re worried about. That wouldn’t be fair to you.” She walked over to her bed and plopped down. “So whatever you came to offer me to keep me quiet about your kinks and what happened, keep it. And if you want me to sign something, whatever, that’s fine. Just hand it over so we can get this over with.”

He wrinkled his nose in offense at the assumption that he was there to pay her off. While he did have a certain “playboy, bad boy” image, he would have hoped he did not give off the vibe that he wanted to buy her silence. He knew it happened but it was not his style.

“That wasn’t what I came by to talk about at all. I do wanna talk about the photo but first, I just wanted to see how you were doing? I didn’t have your number and wanted to check on you. You got a concussion and then the leak… you were already stressed at the hospital, figured this didn’t make shit easier. Thought you could use a friendly face that knows what’s goin’ on?”

Her expression softened. She had not expected that. Nor had she expected him to so accurately determine what she needed. It had been a hard day with this looming secret and no one to talk to without outing herself. Tiffany was a good friend but she would not agree with how Raven chose to make extra money.

“O-Oh… umm… t-thank you. That’s r-really sweet. S-sorry for assuming the worst. I just figured you…” she stopped herself. “Never mind. I’m fine, or at least I will be. Head hurts less. Few more days, I’ll be healed a-and I’ll figure out the rest. Or just wait for my life to implode,” she grimaced.

He stared at her. “You’ve been cryin’.” His eyes scanned the waste basket by the desk, which was overflowing with tissues and the ones that littered her soft rose and cream colored comforter. “A lot for just a few hours. You can be honest with me.”

She rubbed her eyes, trying to stop more from falling. “J-Just been a rough year and a half or so, rough life,” she whispered. “I take a step in the right direction and get knocked five back.” She cleared her throat before shaking her head, her body language telling Michael everything he needed to know. All he saw was exhaustion, exhaustion that clung to the bones and never let go, exhaustion so painful it was difficult to even admit it to yourself for fear of giving into it. “But it’ll turn around. So I’m good, I’m good,” she assured him. He could not tell if those words were more for him or herself.

She stared at him for a few moments, feeling the awkwardness of having a movie star in her small cluttered bedroom. “That it?”

“Um no, actually. I might have a solution to both of our problems… if you’re interested.”

She laughed and shook her head, laying back down on her bed so she could rest her head. He had already seen her in the hospital, she figured he could deal with watching her lay down.

“Unless you have a job for me, I don’t really know how you can help me.”

“Well actually… I do. It’s not a traditional job or some shit but it'll be worth it. Be my girlfriend for the next six months.”

He said the words so casually and easily, Raven would have thought he was asking her to be his dog walker. She immediately sat up, her eyes bugging out of her head.

“What??”

He stuffed his hands in his jacket pockets. “My movie is coming out next month and my directorial debut is next year. The role is already getting buzz for award season. But my team thinks I need to change up my public image ahead of the promo and seem like a more serious person.” She wanted to laugh at his use of air quotes around ‘serious.’ “The photo didn’t really help and if it comes out that you were hired, it just won’t be a good look. So you pretend to be my girl for six months, get me through the premiere, the holidays and award season. Then we can go our separate ways.”

Raven could only stare at him blankly, shocked at the words coming out of his mouth. She thought this sort of thing only happened in tv shows and in the lines of spicy romance novels. But here, a rich man stood trying to “Pretty Woman” her.

What the fuck is my life right now??

At her continued silence, Michael added, “You wouldn’t need to see me every day or anything and I’d pay you your rate with Helen for every date. My stylist would get all your clothes and outfits for the events so you wouldn’t need to worry about that.”

Admittedly, as a new girl, her rate was not as high as Tasha’s, she just got lucky taking a date from her. But even still, she knew that she would make a hefty chunk of change by the time the endeavor was over. Though she found the proposition insane, she would have been a fool not to ponder it. He promised a hell of a lot of money for six months of work. One major question trampled over all the other more logical and logistical ones, falling from her lips without a thought.

“Why me?”

Michael had hoped she would not ask this question. He did not have a good answer. It would’ve been better, likely, to attach himself to an actual celebrity. But Raven was the more authentic choice. However, there was also the underlying reason he even suggested it in the first place and it had nothing to do with logic.

“My team wants to spin the other night as the media infringed on a private moment between me and my girlfriend. It being you is the most plausible option in case someone got a photo of your face.”

Raven studied him for a moment. “That's the only reason?”

“Yea. What else would it be?” He offered, his tone short to avoid any further questioning on the matter. He could tell it did the trick, though it bothered him to see the hurt flash across her face. However, she recovered quickly.

“Of course,” she muttered. “So what would it entail?” She gestured toward the chair at her desk for him to sit.

Her room was incredibly neat for someone who spent the last week in bed. More books were neatly stacked in nooks and crannies across the space but her desk was immaculate. His eyes locked in on a poster above the desk, a Toni Morrison quote written across it.

“If there’s a book that you want to read, but it hasn’t been written yet, then you must write it.” - Toni Morrison

“Damn, how many books you got around here, girl?”

She laughed, “Far too many to count. I have more… a whole collection back home at my dad’s. These are just the ones from my master’s and since I moved here.”

“How many books you read in a year?”

“I average about a book or two a week… some are shorter, some are longer.”

“How do you find the time for that?” Michael was amazed. He had hobbies but he never had time to actually pursue them.

“Reading is my job and my hobby,” she shrugged. “But you didn’t come all this way for that. So playing your girlfriend, what would it entail?” While she appreciated his interest in her hobbies and life, she did not want him to be interested in those things. Questions, trying to get to know her, implied something that she knew could not be there or be true. This was work and she did not need to add anymore fuel to the brewing idea that he cared for her beyond their business transactions.

“We just gotta appear like we’re dating. Dates when I'm in town, I go to an event or two a week but you probably ain’t gotta go to all of them. A couple instagram posts and shit like that to sell it.”

That did not sound terrible. She did not know if she wanted or was interested in the public scrutiny but even she could not deny that he was offering her a damn sweet deal. “Sex? Or would you continue to see Tasha?”

“If you don’t want it to be, it doesn’t have to be. I wouldn’t see Tasha unless I can do it discreetly. But my manager would probably kill me. It would be easier on everyone if it was. Less opportunities for anyone to slip up. We had a good time, right? Besides, I still have a few things I wanted to do to you before our night got cut short.” He winked at her.

Raven hated how cocky he was. He knew damn well she had the time of her life with him. But she refused to admit that she had been fiending for him like he was a highly-addictive drug since she last saw him.

“I’d be amenable to that as long as no tables are involved.”

“What if they’re bolted to the ground?” he teased. Though it ended poorly, he still thought about how that position felt, and could still hear her screams of ecstasy in his ears. They would most certainly be doing it again even if he had to bolt every table in his home to the floor himself.

Her lips curled into the first genuine smile since he dropped her off three days prior at his joke.

“I’d be open to that.”

“So we have a deal?”

She watched him, he seemed almost nervous. As if he was worried she would reject him, as if any woman with eyes and a brain had ever done that, she thought to herself. And even though every cell in her brain screamed that this was the worst idea possible and would end horribly, she could not find that reason enough to reject his proposal. Instead, she said, “Y-You know this is crazy right? These fake relationships and shit, people see right through them.”

“Maybe, but it’s worth a try, right?”

“You know I thought this type of shit only happened in books… you’d rather pay me to pretend to love you than actually find a woman who does and build something real with her? I mean don’t you want a serious relationship and love and all that at some point?”

He shook his head. “No, I don’t.” he answered shortly. “And even if I did, I ain’t got time to find it. Look, we both got immediate problems and this is an immediate solution. Besides a few months with me and you’ll make money… influencer shit, find another rich guy, whatever. But if you aren’t interested, all good. I’ll get outta your hair. I just thought we could help each other?”

Raven studied him for a moment before nodding. The reality was he was right. She had immediate problems that his money could solve. And regardless of what she thought of his choice to go down this path, it was a job and no different than what she did three nights prior.

“We… have a deal. There are worse jobs, I suppose.”

***

“No! Absolutely not. I’m not moving out of my place.”

Michael scoffed, confused as to why Raven was insistent on fighting him on this specific point when he thought it was the most generous part of the deal. She had agreed to literally everything else with ease but the apartment was the first time he heard her pushback in the last hour. “You know most women in your position wouldn’t argue with a nigga tryin’ to give them a free spot for six months. Besides, I looked up the crime statistics in that neighborhood -”

“You know you aren’t really disputing the stalker allegations at all, right?” She did not understand why he would even care where she lived.

“Just doing my due diligence,” he offered lamely. “And it’s dangerous as fuck. Why you even live there? Someone like you ain’t built for those neighborhoods.”

She sucked her teeth in annoyance. “It’s a true community, one of the last left in LA I imagine. Far more of a community than what you have with your neighbors in this high rise,” she gestured around him at his condo downtown where they were meeting, “Or in your mansion in the valley. It’s affordable and just because it doesn’t look the best or bad shit happens - which happens everywhere in LA - doesn’t mean it’s a bad neighborhood. I know every family on my block and almost every single one in the neighborhood. And everyone knows me and everyone helps each other out. Besides, it’s close to work.”

He let out a chuckle. “None of Helen’s clients live or would step foot in that neighborhood.”

She rolled her eyes. “I have a day job… I work at the library a couple streets from my place.”

He raised an eyebrow. He supposed it was not that shocking even the mini library of books she had at her apartment. However, he had not stepped foot in a library since he was a kid. And none of the librarians in Newark looked like her.

“Maybe I would’ve stayed in school longer if the librarians looked like you.” His voice was playful and teasing. “That can’t pay a lot?”

“It's a public service so of course not. Hence my very cheap rent and moonlighting job as a prostitute.” She grabbed her glass of water from the coffee table and leaned back into the couch. “But it’s fun. And gives me a lot of time to read and write on my shifts when things are quiet. And I started some fun initiatives and stuff since I started last year. Anyway, the point is, I don’t need a new fancy apartment down here. I like my space. Why do you even care?"

This part was harder than she thought, ironing out the logistics of their new arrangement. Michael had invited her to his spot downtown, a condo he stayed in when he had late nights in the city. She just figured they would be going with the flow of things. But here they were, debating how many events a week she would need to accompany him to and where she would stay. He kept offering her extravagant things that she quickly turned down.

“I don't," he answered shortly. Or least, he knew he shouldn't. He tried to cover it up, but even he knew his cover stories were lame. "My manager just thought it would look more legit. But if you don't wanna move, fine. You should stay here a couple nights a week then. There's always cameras around here, they need to see you comin' and goin' like a girlfriend would. This can be where we stay after dates and shit. My team will fill the spare closet with new clothes.”

“Fine. And new clothes? What’s wrong with my clothes?”

He sighed. “There’s nothing wrong with your clothes as an everyday thing but you should look like your boyfriend is… well, me. And that means an… elevated take on your current style.”

She rolled her eyes. “As long as I don’t have to change my whole style, fine. And look, everything you’re offering is nice but feels excessive. All I care about is keeping my life and reputation and stacking enough money to put myself in a better position. If there’s an event you need me to come to or something you need me to do to sell it, just text me and I’ll do it. You’re paying me to do a job so I don’t really need anything else from you, whether it’s an apartment or a closet full of designer clothes. I’m not trying to milk this arrangement for all it’s worth or steal from you. You’re paying for my time on dates and for sex, that’s all I expect.”

Michael studied her for a moment. He was hoping she would have arrived at this meeting with demands and extravagant desires but she did not seem to care. She was willing to do everything he asked and wanted nothing but the money he promised in return. No extras, no frills, no anything. It was the exact opposite of what he expected from her. And he knew it should’ve made him happy. This would be the most straight-forward business deal he negotiated in years. However, something about it bothered him. He knew it shouldn't. He knew the words about to leave his mouth were dangerous. After all what business partner cared if the other person was short changing themselves when it benefited them? He knew he should not care but here he was… going against all the voices in his head that screamed that at him.

“Are you always this amenable? To everyone?”

She wrinkled her nose. “I’m just not selfish. You act like it’s a bad thing?”

“It is if you let people run all over you. Being amenable is why you paid some portion of $10k to bail someone out of jail when it was clear you didn’t have it.”

She cut her eyes, sending him a glare that was so unlike her, it was unnerving. “That is none of your business.” He had never heard such sharpness in her voice, quickly realizing he had struck a chord and not a good one.

“My bad,” he raised his hands in surrender. “I just… it isn’t selfish to demand what you want too, to ensure a situation favors you just as much as the other person. So if down the road, you realize there’s something you want out of this, aside from the money, just name it. Business transactions are not about just getting the bare minimum of what you need… you’re allowed to get the things you just want too.”

Her heart somehow both inflated and sagged at his words. There he was again, seemingly caring about her beyond the parameters of their relationship. And she could not deny that she liked it, the idea that someone cared about what she wanted, not what she could do for them. But she did not let herself bask in it for too long. Because there was so much Raven wanted in this life, so much she wanted from Michael, but she knew she could not have any of those things and he could not give them to her.

“Last thing, sex.”

She stared at him, confused. “I thought we agreed that we were having it?”

He laughed. “Yea we did. We can keep it to nights when you’re already working so it’s easier. And any other nights, I’ll pay you so don’t worry about that. But if we’re gonna keep doing what we did the other night, I’d like to make sure we have ground rules.”

“Ground rules?”

“Like what are your hard limits? Lines I shouldn’t cross?”

“You spanked me and called me names… hardly need rules for that.” She waved her hand to dismiss him. “We’re good. Just do what you want.”

Michael merely laughed and stood up. He continued chewing on the toothpick he had between his teeth while he stretched one hand out for her to take.

“Come with me.”

He led her through the apartment, down the hall to the largest bedroom. She took the quick journey to study the apartment, shocked at how sterile it felt. It could’ve been an AirBnB, furnishings as generic as the ones she could pick up from Target. Though she knew his were far more expensive. She wondered what his other home looked like, this was clearly just a bachelor pad. But she had not spotted a single family photo or anything of note in the entire place. It was beautiful, just… cold.

Michael turned on the light and led her to the middle of the room. He stood behind her and used his hand to move her kinks to the other side of her neck before resting his hands on her hips.

“That bed has about six different ways for me to restrain you. The different configurations allow me to put you in any position I want and you can’t move. So much shit I can do with that.. My favorite thing is,” he lowered his voice and leaned in to whisper in her ear, not shocked at how her body stiffened slightly and her breathing skipped. “To tie your arms and legs to the bed and leave you there with a vibrator. See how long it takes you to beg me to cum. Most don’t last long.”

“Have you ever heard of shibari?”

She nodded. At his silence, she immediately corrected herself.

“Y-Yes.”

“Good girl. Ever tried it?”

“No but I’d be open to it.”

“I learned on my first trip to Japan, been studying ever since. Gotten pretty good at it.” A single finger traced intricate patterns across her skin as if he were envisioning exactly where those ropes would go on her skin. He had barely touched her and her panties were already soaked. “This ceiling fixture,” he gestured up to it above their heads. “Is rigged to hold 300 pounds. I can already imagine you suspended from there while I fuck you. You’d like that?” He stepped around to face her, smiling at the way her eyes darkened and her nipples pebbled beneath her thin shirt.

“I-I think so,” she whispered. His fingers returned to her body, now lazily grazing the bare skin of her thighs, inching the fabric of her skirt higher and higher.

“That bench,” he jerked his head to the side, her eyes falling on a nondescript black cushioned bench at the foot of the bed. It was tall, taller than the average bench, which let her know it was not made for sitting. “Is the perfect height for me to spank you if you disobey me, which judging from the other night, I’m sure will be often. I already know you’d like that though, right?”

His hand squeezed her ass as he leaned in and sucked on her neck. Her body fell forward and rested against his, giving into the tantalizing pleasure he was providing. She was embarrassed by the breathy moan she let out but could do nothing to stop it.

“I asked you a question,” he reminded her.

However, Raven felt as if she no longer had a voice let alone coherent thoughts to offer him and answer his questions. She did not understand how he had this effect on her, how she was so willing to surrender to his every whim. But she was, everything he said ignited the most impure and wicked fantasies in her mind. She pictured his words and more so clearly, they might as well have been watching a porno.

“Y-Yes, I w-would,” she offered through gritted teeth, desperate to hold onto some amount of decency.

“And that chaise is perfect for any and every position I could ever want you in. And the mirror lets you watch yourself while I fuck you. Oh and I’m gettin’ a swing installed next week. Perfecting timing. And that chest over there,” her eyes went to the last thing of note in the room besides his other standard furniture. “Well, I’m waiting for everything to come in but by Friday, it’ll be filled with brand new floggers, nipple clamps, gags, vibrators, plugs, and a leash since you enjoyed crawling to me so much.”

If it were possible, her face would have flushed with red at his words.

“How do you know I enjoyed it?” She tried to sound defiant but she knew it was weak.

He smirked. “Cause if I told you to drop to your knees and follow me around this apartment for hours, I’d bet my life you’d do it without a second thought.”

She was thankful he did not phrase it as a question so she was not forced to answer him. The truth was, she would. She would do anything he told her.

“So, I have a lot more than some colorful names and a spanking in mind if sex is part of this arrangement. This really ain’t the thing you want to be amenable to without thought. Tell me what you want and don’t want. Because when we step in here, I expect you to surrender. And that requires trust that I know your limits and won’t cross them.”

He took a step back from her, his body reeling from how badly he wanted to fuck her. And how badly she clearly wanted him to. But as badly as he wanted her, he vowed that he would only see their time together as a transaction. They went on a date and had sex, he paid her. And that meant, he could not give into his every sexual whim or thought. Otherwise, he would be fucking her every day and they’d never leave this room. And there was no way he’d survive the six months like that.

“You also don’t have to tell me today, either. Just think about it.”

She nodded, she really did not want to think about it. Not because he was wrong but because she did not want to think or admit all the things she desperately wanted him to do to her.

Her phone buzzing pulled her out of the trance he had her in. Thank God, she thought to herself as she read the alarm on her phone. “Oh shoot, I better head home. I… host a book club on Wednesday evenings at the library.”

“I’ll walk you out.”

Raven was thankful to escape his bedroom, it was a danger zone for her and her thoughts.

“So um… you have my number w-when you’re ready for a date. J-just give me advanced notice, if you can? You know if I need to adjust my work hours or something.”

“How about Saturday evening? My team released the statement this morning and it's getting good play apparently so it’ll be good for us to post a picture or be seen out and about this weekend. We can start small with dinner, ease you into the spotlight.”

“Sounds good. Just text me what I need to wear.”

“Don’t worry about that. They’ll pull an outfit and send it over to you.”

“You sure? You really don’t have to,” she started to say before he cut her off.

“It’s easier cause they’ll coordinate the look and make sure it looks good for photos. Don’t worry about it.”

She made her way to the private elevator and hit the lobby button.

Michael reached in and hit the P button. “Elevator will take you straight to the car, driver will meet you in the garage.”

“Have him meet me out front. You said there’s always a paparazzi or two lurking around. Maybe they’ll catch me leaving?”

He raised an eyebrow, impressed. “You sure this is your first fake relationship? Already acting like a pro.”

She laughed and shook her head. “No, I just want to make sure you get all the bang for your buck. I like to excel at every job I have… would hate for you to leave me a bad review with the fake girlfriend's business bureau.”

“Don’t see that happenin’ at all.”

She thought the smolder was merely something actors did in movies. But here he was, smoldering and it made her want to rip her clothes off in the middle of his elevator and demand he fuck her. But she couldn’t. Self control. This was a transaction and she could not give into her desires outside the realm of payment. That would be dangerous.

She cleared her throat, forcing her feet to take a step back into the elevator. “Ok, see you Saturday,” she offered awkwardly.

However, before the doors fully closed, she stopped them.

“Tying up is fine, just want a nonverbal cue if you’re gonna gag me and I can’t speak. I like pain but my pain tolerance isn’t that high so there’s a limit on what I can take. So if you’re like a sadist or something, we can go ahead and dead this. Oh and no bodily fluids aside from the ones that are naturally involved in sex, don’t make me explain what I mean… the stories I’ve heard,” she shuddered, causing Michael to laugh. “No hitting except spanking, of course. Choking is fine. And no threesomes or other people. Oh and I’m fine with no condoms, if we’re exclusive and you get tested for STIs and bring the results with you on Saturday. I will get one too. Oh and make sure the collar is padded or lined with something for my neck,” she clarified. “That’s all I can think of. I am willing to try anything else once and I’ll use the safe word if I don’t like it. How do those rules sound to you?”

“That’s it?” Her list was perfect, aligned to his own personal limits fairly well. He would’ve expected more for someone so green.

Raven seemed to pick up on his shock causing her to laugh. “I know the vibe I give off,” she admitted. “And I am all those things… innocent and straight laced. But you aren’t the only one with fantasies. You told me to get what I needed and I wanted. … I need the money and I want an escape from my reality, total surrender and escape with someone I trust to explore those fantasies with. And right now, that’s you.”

He did a small double take at her words. “You trust me already? You don’t even know me.”

She shrugged, for some reason, she felt as if that was not true. On some level, she did know him. Or at least, a piece of him. And that felt like enough… at least for now.

“I think I know enough. See you Saturday,” she smiled with a small wave, the elevator doors finally closing to take her to the lobby.

Michael stood there in his living room, slightly dumbfounded.

“This girl…” he whispered. He was already cursing himself for this ill conceived plan. He knew, at that very moment, he did not have the willpower to keep his feelings at bay for six months. The only question now was, how long would he last?

Tag List: @readinghere2023 @blackerthings @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @physicxal @purplehairgawdess @miyuhpapayuh @rueruesclues @geemamii @certifiedlesbianbaddie @pipsqueak-98 @nyifly22 @twocentaur @gopaperless @musicisme333 @roguekiki @majesticbrownjawn @taurusqueen83

***

A/N: So we are in the thick of ittttttt. The babes are pining and entering in a fake relationship…. what could go wrong LOL the smut returns next chapter, promise! And we get their first real date.

Drop a comment and let me know what you think or if you want to be tagged! Thanks for reading!

#black writers #michael b jordan #michael b jordan x oc #mbjordanedit #michael b jordan x reader #creed 3 #black panther #michael b jordan fanfic #adonis creed #creed iii

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shojizbae · 3 months

Text

Peeping Tom

Tamakixreader x mirio

Word count: 4K

Warnings: smut, voyeurism, oral (m&f receiving) jerking off, safe sex practices

Mirio didn’t mean to. He really didn’t. UA had very recently moved into the dorms when it happened. It was a Friday night, and he just finished a shower after getting home from his work study. Apparently, the walls were a little thinner than he expected.

Sometime around 8:30, he heard it. It started slow at first, talking. A movie played, but it changed so often that he couldn’t figure out which one. He had only a pair of sweatpants as he toweled off his hair when he heard it.

“(Y/n), woah!” It was the voice of his best friend and neighbor, Tamaki. His shy, elvish friend had finally confessed to his now girlfriend three months ago. (Y/n), a kind but rambunctious girl who had been dropping not-so-subtle hints for almost two years was one of Mirio’s favorites in the class.

Since getting together with Tamaki, she had drawn him out of his shell. It seemed tonight she would drag him out a little more complicated.

“What ‘woah’?” She gently placated

Now, Mirio, of all things, was not a snoop, but he was curious. Luckily, he wasn’t a cat, so he pressed his ear to their shared wall.

“W-we were just watching a movie. I didn’t expect you to get all handsy.” He said, and even through the wall, he could hear his best friend tucking his chin into his chest in embarrassment. So, they were finally gonna have sex?

Two weeks ago, Tamaki came to Mirio and Nejire with this concern. (Y/n) had very nonchalantly asked if he was ready or could consider getting physical with her. After about twenty minutes of gently calming him down, as he seemed to begin hyperventilating, he managed to say something he wanted meanly. Although his anxiety could try your patience occasionally, you were proud of the semi he was sprouting at the mention.

After that conversation, he went to Mirio, who coincidentally was with his girlfriend. He knocked at the door open (Y/n). Want to have sex with me!” He proclaimed in the closest voice he could muster. Unfortunately, he entered a scene from a magazine in the back of the store.

Nejire was in her school skirt and bra, her hair was disheveled but tucked to the side, and she was lying/ straddling Mirio's lap. Mirio was only in some checkered boxers and had one hand on her boobs and the other on her ass below her skirt. He managed a squeak before he spun around and slammed the door shut behind him.

His friends dressed quickly and chased him down, finding him with his head shoved deep into the dorm refrigerator.

“Uhh, Tamaki?” Mirio scratched his cheek but couldn’t hide his smile and his friend's antics

“Yeah, M-mirio?”

“Whatcha doing, man?”

“Uh, just getting a tea?”

“Yeah?” Nejire confirmed, “I thought Yaobara took the last ginseng one. And you hate the matcha ones?” Hado placated

“No, I think I see a Yuzu one back here.” He reached in and pulled out a can of lemonade and cracked the can open. He toon a sip just for show although not bringing himself to make eye contact “mmm refreshing. Well gotta get back to my dorm!” He tried to breeze past the couple until one of Mirio’s giant hands pushed him back by his chest.

“Slow down there, partner! What was this you said about you and (Y/n) having sex?”

“Mirio, not so loud!” Amajiki exclaimed

“Yeah, babe, why don’t we take this back to your dorm?”

“Right,” Mirio looked at his girlfriend with smitten eyes, then at Tamaki’s cherry-red eyes. “Why not yours?” He offered. Tamaki hung his head and pathetically followed the couple to Hado’s dorm room to discuss what this meant.

That was two weeks ago.

Ever since Togata had been anxiously waiting for some kind of sign that (Y/n) had gotten Tamaki into the sac. He felt like some religious fanatic awaiting a divine character, and here it was. Giggles and sighs, and the TV in Tamaki’s bedroom turned up a considerable few clicks.

He kept his ear pressed to the wall, but his curiosity was getting too powerful for him. Accidentally or subconsciously, he slipped through the wall, so his head and left should be passing ghostly through the barrier.- Now his head was in Tamaki’s dim closet where he always left his doors cracked for a long-standing fear of monsters. From his angle, he saw a scene that was downright painting-worthy.

You were sprawled over Tamaki’s lap with both hand tangled into the hair at the base of his neck. Tamaki had one hand up the back of your cardigan which was slipping down your right shoulder. It seemed he was fumbling with your bra clasp which frustrated Mirio because they had spent a considerable amount of time teaching him all about bras.

Frustratedly, you sat up and whipped your cardigan to the side, unclipping your bra and pulling it out of the front of your camisole slowly to tease your boyfriend. With the news he could see, Tamaki looked downright disfigured. His tie hung off his bedside lamp, the top three buttons of his school shirt had been hastily undone, and a speckling of hickies already decorated his neck and chest. Mirio heard him whimper below you as he braced his hands on your thighs.

“You’re beautiful (Y/n).” Tamaki proclaimed, which shocked both who’d heard it

“You don’t need to butter me up, babe, I’m already so wet for you.” You purred as you sunk back to his lips. Tamaki did his best to keep up with you, but the overwhelming barrage of kisses and the constant figure eight of your hips against his was becoming too much for him. Mirio watched in delight as you climbed. His best friend was like a hungry cougar. You gently placed your hands in each of his collarbones, pushed him back onto the plush pillows, and placed a gentle peck on his lips before shimmying down his thighs.

You landed softly on the carpet on your knees with your hands braced on his thighs.

“Uhh (Y/n), what are you…?”

“Shhh, babe, I want this to be special for you.” You held your pointer finger up to your lips in a hushing motion. Then you dug at his belt and enjoyed the iconic sound of a metal clacking against metal.

“(Y/n), You really don’t have to.” He anxiously pleads

“But, Ama, I want to.” That made something in Mirio’s stomach do Olympic gymnastics. There was a pleading glint in your eyes as you begged him silently. He closed his mouth and eyes and gave the subtlest nod known to man, and you dove back in. You tucked some hair behind your ear and undid the button and zipper of Tamaki’s green trousers.

“Take off your shirt, babe.” You ordered, and he obeyed happily as you tugged his boxers. He wriggled around and tossed his shirt into oblivion, and you fished his dick out of his briefs. “Woah, babe, you have such a pretty cock.” You stated proudly.

Mirio had to agree. Of course, he had accidentally caught glances in the locker room, but he was seldom hard in those situations. He could tell from this distance that your statement wasn’t just flattery. It was above average in length with a plump cockhead and perfectly flushed pink. Mirio watched as you took a lick from base to tip, and Amajiki warbled beneath your touch. You took his balls in your left hand and played with them.

Amajiki was notoriously neat, so he wasn’t shocked to see his friend had done some manscaping.

“(Y/n)~” he drawled the final syllable as you slowly sucked on his tip. Mirio could see his friend's abs flexing and twisting as he struggled under your mouth. “(Y/n)!” He groaned. Suddenly, he touched your shoulder and pulled off with an almost cartoon pop.

“Why are we stopping? Is it bad?” You added anxiously

“No! No, it’s. He wiped his eyes and tried to collect his thoughts. “It’s really, uhuh, really good. I don’t think I’ll last one second if you keep going.” He wiped his sweaty brow

“Aww,” you gave a downward smile, proud of yourself for being a natural. You started climbing up him again and gave him a long, searing kiss so he could taste his own precum on your lips. You started reaching behind you for the zipper of your skirt, but Tamaki caught your wrist before you could retake the lead.

“I’ll be taking care of that.” He stated as a wave of confidence overtook him. He held under your armpits and spun the both of you around, so he landed with a giggle in the tangle of his blankets. Often, you forget how strong your boyfriend is. Partly because he rarely wore tight or revealing clothing that showed off his sexy, lean muscles. They didn’t exude the confidence typical of people as powerful as him.

As he stood, he tucked himself back into his boxers but shucked off his pants and folded them at the waist before tossing them to the side. You laughed at his continued clean behaviors, and Mirio just enjoyed it. He claimed back over your abdomen to kiss your lips and your forehead.

Sensing his tiredness, Mirio returned his whole body to his bedroom and got some water. He brought his fist toward his chest in victory and recapped some water. He’s seen plenty more than what is appropriate, right? There should be no need to keep snooping? Right?

Mirio checked the lock on his door, relieved that he remembered to lock it while changing. Although it’s not as if everyone in the class hadn’t seen some part of him during training. He took another sip from his water bottle and plunged his head back into his ‘peephole.’

What he saw was miraculous.

Amajiki was laying shooter style between your spread legs. He had his right hand stuffed deep in your cunt, and with his left hand, he was holding yours.

“L-like this (Y/n)?” He sought your guidance and received only a high-pitched sigh

“Yeah! Mhmm,” you attempted to clear your throat to gain some composure. “Yeah, just like that, Ama.” You sighed

“Ok, but how’s the pace, or should I do anything else.”

“Y-you c-could play withhh my clit?” You offered. Mirio was gobsmacked. How did his shy, reserved best friend get his girlfriend to stutter like him?

“O-ok.” he unlocked his fingers from yours and started making gentle circles. He tried to find it, but notoriously, it seemed to be the eighth wonder.

“Um, a little higher, baby,” you took your once-connected hands and guided his left hand up to your clit and hiccuped. You found it, and Tamaki's gentle hands lay you out.

“Like this?” He smiled up at your pinked face

“Yeah, just like that, baby.”

“So this is good?”

“Yeah, hun, this is euuh,. This is really good,” you accidentally interrupted yourself. Jeez, Tamaki, Mirio thought you really needed more confidence.

“You know,” Tamaki jumped at the sound of your voice, “nothing's wrong, babe, just if you wanted, you could use your mouth.”

“D-do you want it?”

“Only if yoUU!” Before you could confirm, he placed his mouth right where his left hand was. The squee you let out emboldened both boys witnessing you. Until now, Mirio had been balancing on his knees and his right hand while his left hand pushed against the wall. Now, his left hand slid down to his navel and slipped under his champion sweatpants. There was a considerable pile of pre that had pooled in his pants, and he thanked his twenty-minute earlier self who had chosen to forgo underwear.

Quickly he was able to grab onto his cock as his gaze was fixed on you, the porno in front of him. Amajikis left hand had vacated your clit as his mouth took the promotion. Instead, he was grasping desperately at one of your boobs, and his right did its best to assault your g-spot.

Evidently, his right hand was doing a good job, and you moaned and writhed beneath your boyfriend's ministrations.

“Fuck baby, keep going,” you looked your leg over his shoulder and locked him closer to your pussy. Mirio started to circle his cockhead with his thumb as he heard your moans pitch up.

You sunk your right hand into his hair, which made Tamaki groan a little. Your left hand flew out to grip a nearby pile of comforter.

“Tama, uhh, I’m so close! Please, whatever you do, don’t stop or change anything.” And he obeyed happily, maybe adding to the intensity only emblazoned by your tenacity. Your other leg wrapped around the side of his ribs as you reached climax. All coherency left him as you came a jumble of Tamaki's names and various moans and squeals.

Mirio gripped his dick a little harder, and you squirmed and relished the first orgasm someone had provided you. Tamaki sat on his knees and wiped his mouth as he admired how wrecked you looked. Your hair was spread in a million directions, and your tank top was ridden up so he could see your belly as it rose and fell. Your skirt was flipped up, and your panties hung off one of your knees. Even your socks seemed to be slipping if your body as your boyfriend devoured the sight of you.

He had watched many a dirty movie, but nothing compared to how sexy you looked right now. Sweating, shaking, and your face was completely red.

Tamaki was doing much better. He, too, was out of breath and slightly damp, but most noticeable was his cock dancing and straining against his navy blue briefs.

“Aww baby, that looks like it hurts,” you reached for his waistband and tugged him so you were both sitting on the bed, “why don’t we take care of you.” You sat his back against the wall and almost tore his boxers off him. You stood up and pulled your camisole over your head, and brandished it to the side. You gave him a smile as his eyes locked onto your breasts. You saw him swallow and, for the show, fanned himself like a lady at church with his hand.

Boldly, you pulled the zipper of your skirt down and let the green pleats free fall, and you stepped out of it. Despite being buried in your pussy just a minute before, the sight of you completely naked and on display for him was golden. His cock stood at attention, painfully awaiting you.

You climbed back onto your boyfriend's and kissed him sweetly to reassure him. His confidence broke briefly as he awaited your insight.

“Here, hold onto my hips.” You place your hand over his and guide them to the fat of your hips. You rose slowly on your knees and used your right hand to guide his cock to your awaiting pussy. You paused right as you made contact.

“Fuck! I forgot condoms!” You put your forehead on his collarbones in defeat.

“That’s okay, baby,” he secured a hand on the small of your back and leaned the two of you forward. He slowly opened the drawer and pulled out a box of condoms, pulling out the roll and ripping one off.

“How did you?”

“After that night, I went out and bought some. I-I had to call Mirio for help.” He admitted, ashamed.

“Aww, baby.” Mirio stopped his hand as he smiled at the memory. It was nine at night when he got the call. It took ten minutes to calm down a very overwhelmed Tamaki and explain that most of the scented or rubbed condoms were not a good choice and that he should go with latex unless he knew you were allergic to latex. You weren’t, so he got some pretty generic-looking lubricated condoms with a little doctor-recommended check. He didn’t make eye contact with the cashier; he only handed her enough cash to pay and grabbed the box before she could give him change.

You both settled back into position and he ripped the foil open with his teeth. Your knees buckled a little at the sight and you helped guide the condom down his dick. As you slid him down your folds you paused right at your pussy and looked in his eyes.

“Mhmmm,” he managed to grit out, and you slowly sunk his head in. Both of you seemed to moan and were keen on the contact. Your hands flew up to grip his shoulders, and he sunk into the small of your waist. Mirio gripped his cock reignited by the double loss of virginity. Slowly you eased down his cock and experimentally brought yourself up and down once. You shuddered in his lap.

Tamaki slid his hands down your waist to your hips, and you picked up the pace, bouncing up and down his lap with more confidence. With his help, you rode him with a passionate curiosity.

Mirio picked up the pace as you two seemed to find a groove. The purple-ette enjoying the sight of you taking him for his pleasure and the satisfying squelch of your pussy around him. Every lift and drop of your hips forces his eyes to shut a little, but every time, he forces them back open to allow himself to soak you in.

You’re not doing much better. Already sensitive from cumming minutes earlier, the excitement of finally getting to fuck Tamaki swirled into a greater pleasure than you could imagine. Unfortunately, it was interrupted by the ghost of cowgirls.

“Ow ow ow!” You settled your hips

“What? What is it, baby?” He clamped his hand on the side of your face.

“Foot cramp.” You shook it and winced

“D-do you wanna switch?”

“Mhmm,” you nodded, and he kept his hold on the side of your face but gave you a gentle peck. Then he slid his hands under your legs and picked you, only to slam you down on the mattress. You bounced and laughed as you held his face for another kiss. You tucked some stray hair out of his face as he guided himself back into your sweet, warm pussy.

You made eye contact as a slight gasp slipped from your mouth. Tamaki leaned over you and placed your arms around his neck. He placed both hands by your ears and started up a slow and gentle pace. Before he realized your eyes were going the same rolling back/ force open pattern.

From this position Amajiki was hitting all the best angles. Mirio thought he was spoiled for getting the pleasure of witnessing this. Every grunt and every sigh even the squeak of the mattress beneath Tamaki’s knees was only fuel for his fist. He brought his hand up to his mouth so he could collect a weight bead of spit which he spread over his throbbing cock. He could feel his balls keening with the need to release but he was trying to time it with the movie he was witnessing.

On your side of the wall was bliss. You kept your arms around his neck but still wove your fingers through the thick hair at his nape. When you gave a particularly strong tug Tamaki crooned into you touch. He moaned a little harder as you tugged on him.

“D’yo like that, Ama?”

“Y-yes,” he managed to plead.

“Y’want me to do it again?”

“Yes-fuck, please!” You were shocked to hear your typically formal boyfriend swear at you. It was hot, so you pulled harder in his gorgeous silky hair. You only pulled more erotic sounds out of his lips, which were coated in a thin layer of saliva from chewing on them.

“Fuck again! I-I’m gonna cum!”

“T-Tama!” You nearly started laughing in surprise at his foul mouth. But the obsessive rhythm of his hips was bringing you closer to the edge again. “Just keep going. I’m ughh,” you groaned against your will as he teased your G-spot.

“Deeper Tama!” You begged. He grabbed each of your ankles at your request and brought them up by his ears. He leaned down on you and landed a searing kiss on your forehead and then brought his pace a little faster, lingering at the depression of his thrust.

“Ahh, right there! Please don’t stop!” But he was sputtering out from exhaustion and being on the precipice of an orgasm

“I can’t- I’m not gonna!” He sounded absolutely pathetic

“It’s fine, baby. Just keep going.”

“Do you want me to pull out?”

“Why would you wear a condom? Inside please” At that, any scrap of reserve fell away as he pounded into you, desperate to cum.

“(Y/n)! Uh, I’m gonna!” He parked his hips deep in your pussy as he came with a whimper. Your eyes rolled so far back that he was nervous; they might not return. As he came to, he felt like he was strangled by your pussy, clamping down and spasming around his cock. You raked your hands down Amajiki's back, desperate to cling onto something for fear you might float away.

If he were to look back on it, Mirio would say that the noises you made as you came sent him hurtling over the edge. In a split-second decision, he permeated his other hand through the wall to bite so he could damper his sounds. He shuddered, and his ear rang after he came. A nasty white matter on the wall was evidence of his Tom peeping.

He pulled himself back through to his room to assess the damage. He would need to change his sweatpants because of a big precum stain on the grey fabric. He laughed at himself and how live-action porn got him so riled up.

“Oh jeez,” he put his clean hand on his forehead. Directly after he had hidden the evidence, a pounding at his door nearly scared him out of his skin.

“Miri! Togata! Why is your door locked?” He zipped over to his door, unlocked it, and gave his girlfriend a kiss on the forehead as she sunk into his chest.

“Long day, baby?” He similarly caged her in

“So long,” she whined

“You want to hear something that will cheer you up?” He pulled back so he could look at her adorable little face

“Always,”

“They finally did it.” He admitted with a downward smile

“YOU SHUT YOUR DAMN MOUTH!” She leaped back, accidentally activating her quirk

“Yeah, I heard it all.” He smirked proudly. “You wanna go over and bust them?”

“Yeah!” She cheered sharing similar smirks and penchants for mischief. Mirio threw on a t-shirt and they crept next door. Stupidly the couple had forgone locking the door. The two bust through the door to reveal what could have been a sweet wholesome moment.

(Y/n) had her head laid on Tamaki’s chest and Tamaki had an arm over her shoulder and was stroking up and down with his finger tips. But as the couple blew threw Tamaki’s door sending the couple flying up and out of their sheets.

(Y/n) grabbed the nearest blanket and held it to her chest to conserve some of her modesty.

“What are you doing get out!” You screeched in embarrassment while poor Tamaki cowered, mortified.

“Ok ok,” Mirio backed out in surrender “did you kids have fun?”

“Out!’l you hollered. The incident did not stop you by any means from continuing your fun. You just remembered to lock the doors. But no padlock could keep out your neighbor of a peeping tom.

#tamaki amajiki #Tamaki Amajikix reader #Mirio Togata #Nejire Hado #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #Tamaki Amajiki x reader smut

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thedoubteriswise · 2 months

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so I get to my shuttle at the airport to go home and it turns out the other group that's supposed to be in my van is really late, so they're putting them on the next time slot and I have this van all to myself. cool, that means the trip home will be relatively short. this was a greater stroke of luck than I could possibly have imagined, as I have been awake for uh. I'm not going to do any math right now but it's been a lot of hours, and this driver is a guy who loves to hear himself talk.

at first this is fine. he starts telling stories about the awful job he used to have working at a piece of shit movie theater in pasadena 13 years ago. it's vaguely concerning that he leads with (while speaking to a woman he just met, with whom he is alone in a van) a story about a frequent flier they used to have who would sneak into movies, sit next to random women, jerk off, and then escape before they could identify him conclusively, but admittedly I do find this story compelling and am not offended, so that's whatever. he proceeds to tell a longer story about how he got fired from this job, and how his manager also later got fired from this place for, seemingly, embezzlement. this also amuses me, even if I'm puzzled by the combination of hatred and admiration he seems to have for this manager. the specific cadence of his speech is ringing some alarm bells, and he seems to find a woman to dislike in every story he tells, and also I was unsure why he needed to specify that The Phantom Masturbator (his title, not mine) was black, but like. okay man proceed with your fascinating narrative I guess.

this is the point where we get into what he was doing in the LA area in the first place, and that was trying to be a TV writer. this didn't work out, but it turns out he had a fairly popular youtube channel for a while. and he asks me.

"so, have you heard of gamergate?"

"uh, sure."

"oh boy. yeah, sorry."

he then runs down his entire involvement in gamergate, because boy was he involved.

well. I say "entire," but he definitely left out some details!

for 50 straight minutes my new best friend does not stop talking. he expresses regrets about some of his past choices and says he's "absolutely a leftist" now, and that he has two daughters, which apparently changed his perspective on things. he has still found a woman to hate in every story he's told me. we finally arrive at my house. I get out of the car and realize that at the beginning of this story he told me where he lives, which is the same town where I live. god help me there is a nonzero chance of me running into this loser in a bar.

#america. beautiful country.#the guy who drives you home from the airport might be a turbo-misogynist #who wants to tell you that someone he knows wrote a book in which they indirectly blame him for trump getting elected

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mirai-desu · 3 months

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On the MSATD News

I didn't have time to post a knee-jerk reaction (which those of you from the Downton days know I was apt to do - thank you to all my long term mutuals of my side blog for sticking with me through those days), as I saw the news as I was getting ready to head out for work and it's been… a bit of a day.

Suffice it to say… I am devastated. And my initial reaction was (well after cursing), that it should have ended with S4, but with a different (happier) conclusion. It's called Miss Scarlet AND THE DUKE for a reason. And after all that happened in S4… it really feels like… what was it all for?? Especially if they knew WHEN FILMING THIS?? "Goodbye for now" is NOT "goodbye forever." They really, really really fumbled this.

There's a lot of theories going around, and I will admit it's too hard for me to listen to Stuart's new interview, but going off what other's have said and the parts of the transcript I did manage to read… I just cannot feel like this was actually his decision unless there's something else going on with him (either in his personal life or maybe he has some secret role he's got, because supposedly he hasn't worked since he did ADR on S4). He's been the captain of the ship, and he has always been enthusiastic with discussing the show and had just great insight into playing William. It doesn't feel like he himself was ready to move onto other things (and that's not even how it's worded - some BS about how the show needed it him to be gone for ~longevity~ of the show), like I've seen with other actors are on shows (e.g. Dan Stevens). He still promoted S3 (which came out in the UK after they filmed S4), he still even promoted S4! He was an executive producer for S4!!! Nothing makes sense!

So if it's due to RN… why keep having the other characters say William was only going to be gone a year? Why bother to have the flashback? why bother to have him stay at at Eliza's to recover?? hell I'm surprised they just didn't keep in the coma then--

But really, why even bother to have Eliza write to him? Or have Ivy say what she said to her?? The time apart was supposed to be them looking at their options. They literally foreshadowed him joining Eliza at her agency upon his return. So… what happened?

If it was actually for personal reasons that Stuart left, he has a right to his privacy. But then they should have rewritten S4 to be the end then, since they knew all this time. I can't believe we are getting the full story on this, one way or the other. The more and more I think about it... I do think it was RN's doing though.

Just two nights ago I drafted up a whole meta extolling how one of the best things this show has done has been how they developed William and how he grew as a character. The progression he made as he not only accepted Eliza having a career but encouraging her. His mentorship of Fitzroy. How he came from nothing, from a teenager living on the streets, to become an inspector at Scotland Yard. But they have chosen to toss that all out the window.

Who knows, maybe S5 ends with Eliza deciding to go to New York. But it doesn't seem like they are handling this like Babington's absence in Sanditon. They will make Eliza quickly fall for someone else, and slap fans in the face who have been following their friends to lovers slow burn for five years (because we had to wait for S2 in the first place thanks to the pandemic). And what sucks is that we still got promo saying they are in love with each other. From Stuart, from Kate, from Rachael New herself. We have still gotten promo promoting the romance. Why not have them have a big fight then or something, idk. They gave us hope. And you know what Fellowes says about false hope.

So I'm just supposed to believe that William gives up on Eliza and doesn't return…? No, I cannot. As much as we hated the deaths on DA when they wrote out actors, at least those characters still died in love with their spouses. And while I'd still be foaming at the mouth in anger if they killed him off… yeah.

William's last lines of the show is a flashback including him saying "is it all worth it?" And the answer is… no it's not.

#yeah I'm risking putting this in the tag #miss scarlet and the duke #msatd spoilers #honestly thinking about every damn scene they ever had #WHAT WAS IT ALL FOR #thought of the jewelry store scene and died #also does this make Arabella right? gross.#also I guess Alibi doesn't give a shit about the ratings for the last two episodes left to air in the UK #also I didn't bring up Theo J*mes because he left after S1 and it was different #if they recast William with Ben Lloyd-Hughes I'd take it #(wouldn't be the same but you know)#but don't make him a new character it doesn't work here with William still alive #I'm tired of men going to America #iykyk

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akunoniwa · 6 months

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Wax & Wane

AN: I read through this a few times so hopefully there aren't too many errors...

Synopsis: In which Dottore thoroughly entertains your suggestion of wax play...

Pairing: Il Dottore x fem!reader

Warnings: MDNI, use of hot wax (probably not depicted in the most safe way, who knows)..., though really mostly just shameless, indulgent, sex

WC: ~4.3k

You managed to bring up your desperately wanting to try out wax play, to which he received with unmatched delight. He is insatiable, it seems, and despite knowing this well, you still had reservations when sharing your desires so blatantly. You were starting to think there was nothing he wouldn’t do if it involved toying with you.

He loved to have a glass of merlot over dinner, and this evening you decided to also partake, finding it an easy wine to lose track of.

He began shaking his head unprompted as he looked to you from across the table, “Your words have been haunting me all day, darling.”

You rolled your eyes playfully over your glass as you sipped. God, you hated how much you continuously wanted him. Truly. Despite his horrendous antics, here you were, dining with him almost only as a foreword. Anticipation blinded you with only visions of him. His body was sculpted so elegantly for whatever reason, and his hands were so soft they almost tickled being that he always wore gloves. His frame was quite broad compared to your own, you loved how he eclipsed your body, a comical oxymoron of safety was found in his treachery.

He liked to make a scene of the sex you had, making sure to wring you out for all you’re supposedly worth. His eccentricities shone particularly when he had his complimentary glass of wine. He made no effort to hide his grin, as he knew you both were not only on the same page but the same syllable. The theatrics were cupped in his upturned hand, his glass reflecting only the candle flames that blinked between you at the center of the table.

“You love playing with me as if you’re not as depraved as I am. As if you’d think I would be surprised that you want me to basically just burn you.” He clicked his tongue, his lips hanging slightly slacked, easily escorting his words to your end of the table, “I will hand it to you… I didn’t think of that one, though.”

“I like to at least pretend I still have morals sometimes. For fun.” You were more than acquainted with your lack of any care for how vile your relationship may appear.

“Just this morning, you asked me, of all people in Teyvat, to drip scalding hot wax on your bare skin. Not only that, you left me with that all day while you were away at work, as if I’d be able to get any work done with that shit on my mind.”

“It’s not my fault you’re such a dog. You always come to me with barbaric ideas, I thought I would contribute.”

He pursed his lips bitterly so as to challenge your name-call, “That’s rich. I love when you realize your power over me, darling… Your foul, little mouth.”

He stood to round the table, not letting you rise to your feet, hardly able to even set down your glass, “Call me a dog when you’re crying, begging for me, as you’ve shown me so many times before.” You may have actually angered him, but that wasn’t anything but a bonus as he’d never hurt you. That is, unless you asked nicely.

He pulled out your chair, making you giggle at his impatience, “Maybe I’d like to clean up the table first.” You goaded.

He ran his fingers through your hair delicately at first from behind as he stood wordlessly. You’ve let him know that you don’t mind him being a bit rough with you, so he took little time to bunch your hair into a makeshift ponytail in his hand, jerking you back slightly, “You love making me wait. I know you get off on that… I bet you’re clenching your cute thighs as we speak.” His voice was so pretty when it was skewed with unyielding heat.

His words being true made something fall inside your abdomen to your center, your sex already throbbing as a result of your day, too, being filled with thoughts of him, “Just making sure you prove that you really need it.”

He pulled you further back, slowly, wishing he could inhale your deviant expression as his gaze dropped heavily into yours, “You’re always what I need, I’d never be able to hide that from you.” His subtle change in tone to a coo was almost manic, making your heart stumble. You were reeling in the discomfort of being pulled back, your neck straining so delightfully in his grasp. His free hand slid over your shoulder to feel up your chest, making your gaze falter at the sensation.

“I love it when you tease me…” He squeezed your left breast firmly, noting your purposeful lack of a bra.

“I know… Yet you complain.” Your hand covered his. Sometimes, you were reminded that being with him like this was like befriending a lion. Fucking a harbinger wasn’t ever something you envisioned… Let alone seemingly requiring it.

He freed you from his grasp, removing himself from you reluctantly, “Fine. If you feel so obligated to waste time, then I’ll wait.” He retreated back to his chair.

Not that it mattered, but clearing the table was usually a team effort between you two, though you used this task to your advantage this time. You downed the rest of your wine, standing leisurely to saunter around the table and retrieve all of the dishes as he watched. He was easily riled with a day’s worth of thoughts of you plaguing him, his slacks no longer as slack as he’d prefer. Even the way you paced to and from the kitchen was driving him up the decadent dining room walls, your nightgown clearly too short. He loved how you looked in that black satin…

His eyes beamed into you, and a ghost of a smile possessed your face as you needlessly taunted him by doing nothing to him at all.

“I never would’ve guessed when I first met you that you’d be so easy to mess with.” You spoke slightly louder from the kitchen, frustration broiling as he heard the sink begin to run. Were you really going to hand-wash them too?

He let a hand shamelessly palm his hardening length as you were angled just enough over the sink to cause the hem of your gown to rise. You noticed he didn’t reply, looking over your shoulder to meet his boring gaze as he nonchalantly touched himself. The sight was delightfully crude, making your insides resonate with need, “You can’t fucking wait? You always scold me for not waiting for you.”

“Come here.” He hardly ever managed to intimidate you, and he knew this. There was an ultimate desire that propelled your obedience. Your eyes rolled a second time as you pushed out an unstable sigh. The sink was off, and after your hands were generously dried, you padded over to him.

You took it upon yourself to replace his hand with yours, bending over to reach, “So good… Already so beyond repair for me.”

His hands reached to encircle your waist, as he stood, “I love it when you try to take control, darling, it’s so sweet.” It was a constant battle of dominance as he belittled you with his words. He lifted you to set you on the table, already planning for this by having the dining room only lit with his favorite stick candles.

He wasted no time in unbuttoning your slip, his expression tightening as you were, in fact, wearing nothing beneath, “Fuck.”

You adored how he seemed to react so breathlessly each time he saw your bare form.

You shimmied yourself out of the armholes, allowing him to toss it aside somewhere as he pinched your rosy nipples. This only lasted a moment before his fingers were abruptly replaced with his mouth, lightly biting occasionally as you held his head in your chest. Your response was reduced to a moan that drifted freely from your mouth as he kissed up your chest.

His lips landed on yours like a fallen leaf, though only briefly, “So describe again what you want.”

You took it upon yourself to turn behind you to grab a candle from the candelabra, “Simple. Just…” You began to tip the candle, only to be stopped by his hand.

He kissed you once more, grabbing the candle from your hand carefully so as not to extinguish it, wanting to have the first drop. He found this idea to be increasingly idiotic, but it made his body feel as if it’d be absorbed into a violent black hole of pleasure at the thought.

His first image was of how delicious it’d look to have your plump breasts glazed with hot wax… How you’d wince, how your cunt would sob just the same. So he did just that.

He watched as the searing liquid overflowed from the top of the tilted candle onto your sensitive breast, your face threading with piercing pleasure. He was in disbelief, hearing you whine with need where you should be writhing in pain. The white liquid dripped salaciously for only a moment, hardening quickly… He knew you well at this point, though this would not prevent welcome disbelief from flooding him.

He laughed at your pleasure, “You’re so divine, I really wish I could just destroy you.” Another drop landed on the top of your right breast, causing you to cry out this time as the pain mounted.

He was entranced. And incredibly aroused. His expression was hard to divert your eyes from, his own the color of a fresh wound. Though at the same time, his aura was too heady to face.

Your head fell back in dejection, “I can barely even look at you, Zandik, fuck.”

“Lay back, then.” He moved further between your legs to lean over you, dripping more onto your flattened stomach, watching the drops glide over your side. You continued to whine, tensing each time a new drop made contact. The wax was, of course, incredibly hot, being that the drops were small in diameter, you were somehow able to adjust to this kind of pain. In addition to this, you were becoming gravely aware of his clothed cock pressing into your core as he hunched over you, supported only by his free hand on the table.

He moved to set the candle down only to reach down and feel up your sopping hole without any warning, “Exactly how you should be.”

You wished you could feel his fingers inside you, though he opted to circle your clit from above, “Open your eyes, darling.”

You knew there’d be a wave of relentless need that would roll over you as you captured his eyes, hesitantly obliging. He looked gorgeous, those same pieces of hair he intentionally styled to frame his face obscured his disastrous gaze. His pace only increased upon finding your pitiful irises.

He lowered over you further yet, talking to you as if you were a child, “What’s wrong?” Sometimes he will remind you of the stranger you were aware of before you got to know him. Frigid and needlessly abominable, all of his wretched deeds would flash before you. His work still revolved around such things… Perhaps you were just as despicable for ignoring reality.

“You’re thinking far harder than I prefer,” He began again, his cyclic assault halting, “I ought to fuck every worthless thought out of your body.” He reprimanded you as he gave your clit a gentle slap, his mood never stood steady.

“I was just thinking about you… And how daft I am for always wanting you so badly.”

He blinked at you, your words both sour and sweet, “You’ve been with me for over two years and you still find it necessary to say those things out of self-preservation? You’ve wept for me, bruised your dainty little knees for me, and you still hold onto those delusions? You’re sick, darling, as am I. So why not just give in and romanticize it?” He paused to consider for a moment, “If you felt so guilty, I don’t think you’d be so wet for someone like me. That’s precisely why you’re wet, no? You’re obsessed with how criminal this seems,” He mused with his signature, toothy grin, “You wither on my cock over and over, my darling flower.”

He parted from you, stripping himself of his usual, blue button-up, swiftly moving on to remove anything that clouded his form. He rested his length almost proudly on top of your pubic area, teasing you as it served no obvious purpose but making you wait.

“You always cum so beautifully for me when I read your mind to you… I know you. You want me to acknowledge how desperate you are, verbalize your shame until there’s nothing left to expose.” He loves talking to you like this, and it never fails.

His eyes were trying to devour you whole as you lay under the acidic shower of his words, “There’s nothing wrong with me for realizing how twisted you are. I think you’re similar to me… You take pride in being reassured that you’re a malignant man.”

He teased you further, gently grinding his tip through your blushed folds, “Tell me, then. You like being fucked into oblivion by worthless men.” His eyes were shaded by the valances that were his heavy lashes.

“I know that I don’t like waiting to be fucked by said men.”

“That’s too bad.” He jeered, lightly tapping his tip on your pronounced clit, “I thought you just wanted me to braise your skin with wax?” He retrieved the half-burned stick, waiting for your feedback. He would certainly be an evil to be reckoned with should he insist on not giving in to you at this state.

“Anything. Do anything at all.” You wailed, just needing a sense of his completion.

“Stand up for me.”

You sat up as he stepped back to allow you room to stand before him. He turned you with his free hand, and in one fell swoop, you were pushed over the table. Your ass was perched expectantly, much to his pleasure, though he found this only to be more surface area to ruin. He took no time to allow a blazing drop to collide with your mid-back, ensnared by your twitching and recoil. He wanted to find out how tight your pussy would squeeze his raging cock upon each drop. He lubed himself with your slick as he spread through your wetness, though since it was in abundance, this didn’t take but a moment.

He routinely liked to be gradual about his filling you, his receptive tip being all that he’d permit in the beginning. How it’d pop in and out, those carnally wet sounds, he couldn’t help but let you in on his satisfaction from behind. As expected, your elastic heat throbbed around him, bewitching him. In tandem with your hazy moans, his entire physical being felt as if it were inside you, filling you like insulation, molding to your cloying walls.

He decided to push himself into you just a bit further, following your sounds as judgment. You wish his abysmal voice would swallow you whole, each time he’d let out a groan you’d shudder. You both were aptly captivated by one another.

He surprised you with a shallow thrust being paired with another drop, making you damn near scream in earnest, the sensations being so overwhelming.

“Mm,” He laughed through a groan in pure satisfaction, “I like it when you make sounds like that.” His sadistic interests suited him well and naturally, for better or for worse. You knew he wasn’t saying that just for show, he preferred your pleasure to be agonizing.

He hasn’t yet bottomed out in your salivating cunt, savoring your appetite, how you shook.

Another drop, closer to your ass this time, timing it with another push into you, hoping to lure out an orgasm, to feel you tense so hard, he feels everything and nothing all at once.

You felt genuine tears prick, and you weren’t sure if you felt lucky or disappointed that he couldn’t see, but you knew he was holding back. His pace wasn’t enough to blind your senses with friction, acting as a different advantage to feeling his bare, veiny cock inside you. How it’d bow your walls at his dizzying, legato tempo.

He loved how the wax would dry, looking reminiscent of a symbolic load being painted onto your backside. He noticed your sounds were becoming slightly congested, grinning at the thought of the tears you requested raking down your face. How you asked and received.

“As soon as you feel safe with me, you want me to do increasingly concerning things to your precious body…” He set down the candle, content with the work he created on your skin. A rhetorical babble, as his hand being free made it easy to grab the flesh of your hips to finally press the entirety of his strained length into your beckoning void for a hole.

That lovely sound of complete unity fell from both of your lips, a feeling impossible to top, curses following not too long after as he held himself there, “Fuck, I could just fill you right now...”

“Don’t cum yet…” You just found joy in edging him for as long as possible, even if you too were at the brink.

“Or what? What would you do? Lose yourself at the feeling of being full of my cum?” His words were only spoken to be as vulgar as possible, leaning over your bent form. You could feel his hardened abs against your spine, his voice being so close that your neck tingled.

“Don’t you want to cum?” He whispered low, his voice humid against your ear as the questioning tone strung you along. He had nothing more to give, but rutted his hips into you anyway, deeper than deep, “Hmm?”

“Fucking… Yes.” You lost your grip on your words.

Somehow even this quiet, his voice vibrated through you, “You need to cum.” His words were becoming almost hypnotic as he toyed with you, hips pressing into your plush ass. He kissed the cheek that wasn’t flattened against the table, proceeding to lick up from your jaw to the apple of your cheek, tasting salt, “Your tears are heavenly…”

He was so oppressive, everything about him was compressing you into only being worth serving this moment.

“Touch yourself. I’m not moving until you cum on my cock.” He ordered, and you followed his words, forcing your hand between your body and the table to reach for your dripping clit.

He knew exactly when you began, your pussy managing to tighten even more, your body convulsing as your moans were impossible to restrain. He laughed faintly into your ear, delirious, “Useless. You look so useless.” He wasn’t lying his full weight on you, holding a tense plank-like pose to make sure you felt all of him, “I want your cum… I want all you have, give it to me.”

It didn’t take but a few rounds on your clit and the fixation of his cock warming inside you to finally release against him, and as soon as you unraveled, he lifted himself to fuck you without mercy. Your noises were muted in absolute overstimulation as he chased his own orgasm, his cock easily flying in and out of your welcoming hole.

“Over and over, darling. Because I’m just a fucking dog.” His words were finely grated between his teeth. Your comment earlier may have actually benefited you.

“Please.” You vaguely urged him, wanting so desperately to feel that euphoria of being filled with his viscous load.

“I know you know how to use your words, you chose quite the arrangement of them just moments ago.” He dragged you closer to him, causing the runner and everything on it to shift. The slight change in angle makes you grapple for nothing aside from the polished wood of the table that shakes beneath you.

He quickly vacated from you, watching as your stretched hole wept for attention, imprisoned by the lust he felt as your creamy sweet finally dripped over, “You never want true control, darling, but I love playing your games anyway. You want to piss me off, make me seethe until I make you into my dearest doll.”

You felt your cunt constricting on emptiness as he read you once more, “I think I have a certain type of control over you that you don’t prefer to recognize…” It was slightly embarrassing, the amount of effort it took to speak back to him.

He let a hand land forcefully on the right side of your ass, gripping your flesh, “Games, darling. I knew the first time I fucking looked at you, you wanted games. But perhaps…” He made sure to not spare a drop of your delicately flowing wetness, gathering it to push back into you, “You’re right.” He refused to move once more, stroking himself into you so as to give you nothing but false hope, “So tell me, with this so-called control you have, how do you want me to play with you?”

Your inner thighs twitched as you wished he’d simply move, “I know you want to cum, yet you stall anyways.”

“It’s only when I stall that you show me your true requirement of my cock… Why wouldn’t I stall for a performance like that?” He sheathed into you, forcing a moan to reverberate through you from your core finally to your lips, “Fuck…” He swore, sounding so good as he slowly lost his ground.

“I want to hear more of you… Please…” You begged fervently, the pleasure from feeling so full rendering you a peaceful kind of thoughtless.

He reverted back to a steady pace, the kind that still would not numb you beyond feeling the indentations of his cock running against your insides. His voice unraveled into one you never initially imagined would leave his mouth upon seeing him. You were so flooded, so easy to fuck… He couldn’t tear his eyes away from how your cum coated his swollen length. You knew when he finally shut his mouth that he was unable to berate you with his prodding words, only focused on sensations alone.

“You’re close…” You stated to him, observing how only moans spilled onto your back, “Baby, I want you to cum inside me so badly…”

Your words were so sickening to him, though he bottomed out in you once again to stop. From deep within his sweat-glazed chest, a groan of utter completion restrained him, his head falling back as if finding a debauched kind of enlightenment as he took you. You desperately wanted to fuck yourself into him, but there was no space between you two to allow it. He was so good to you, you thought, his venomous touch was narcotic… Or perhaps you were merely too far gone, seeing as he was just holding you against him, cock pulsing as he held onto everything he had.

“How badly…?” His sheer, satin voice veiled you from behind, if your cunt was wound any tighter he’d be unable to stand.

You really couldn’t compose a sentence, rolling your hips for some kind of movement, “Zandik, please… Please.”

He felt so much raw pleasure in this state, he could find this nowhere else… He felt violent, almost strangely suicidal in how he was at such a precipice of contentment and obsession as your words twirled around him like lethal fumes. He heard your plea repeat in his mind as he rolled into you once more, quickly at a merciless engine’s speed, needing his release to disintegrate a piece of him.

Your noises were so delightful, so shameless as he leaned over you at an angle to provide unwavering leverage, “Tell me, please.” He required your words so helplessly, hastily grabbing your arms from your side to cuff your wrists on your back.

“Zandik…!” You only cried his name, all your pride was easily fucked away between his thrusts.

Abruptly, he folded over you with his final pass into you, ensuring you felt his load as deeply as possible, your body arching upwards into him as the sensation of his release pushed you over a second time. His melodic groans of satisfaction sang you through each of your highs as his hips jutted into you so as to spend you entirely.

“Fuck yes…” He sighed heavily, “My little darling.” He squeezed your cuffed wrists in his hand one last time, freeing them as he chased his breath.

You hummed, your forehead resting on the table as your chest heaved… You felt so full as he held you still, forced to feel his cum mingle with yours. He claimed to have a few ‘favorite things’, but watching his cum spill from your wasted cunt may have been number one. He kissed your upper back repeatedly, painting you with his lips as you anticipated his retraction.

Your cunt still waved against him as he pulled dreadfully slow from you, your face contorting with a different, used kind of pleasure.

“Oh, God…” You whined, entirely gone as he let his cock drop lifelessly from your hole, a concoction of your liquids truly pouring out. A feeling so diabolic, irreplaceable, it made your body wilt.

“Fucking gorgeous.” He watched as cum pooled on the hardwood floor below, an image of you licking it up caressed his thoughts, but he ignored it… This time.

#sorry mfs but not really i am so down bad for dottore its nauseating #il dottore #dottore x reader #dottore x fem!reader #genshin x reader #genshin smut #作文

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666herescared · 11 months

Text

Start of Something Awful(ClingPeachesAU)

Okay, so I decided to write another part of this AU. It's fun to write the emotionally volatile Wukong.

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Mk felt awful. He had been living with Wukong for about a week at this point and he hadn’t even tried to leave! Worst part is that the king wasn’t even keeping him there. Mk has the ability to leave but he just- can’t! He’s scared. Not of the sage but of what his friends will think. He stayed that first day because he was in shock, and the second day the king had planned a massive celebration of Mk’s immortality, so it would’ve been rude to not stay!

But after that… Aw, geez. He was terrified! Each day he spent with the Monkey King was another day he spent away from his friends. He thought they would hate him for staying when he could have just gone home. He wanted to go home! But he was too scared to bring it up with Wukong lurking everywhere. Mk hadn’t even managed to get out of monkey form, which delighted the king to no end!

His cub was responding to his chirps in this form, and the boy seemed cheerful too! He was so happy to see the kid being upbeat in his true form! Of course, from Mk’s perspective, he wasn’t glad at all. He forced a smile for the king, but internally, he was terrified! Why couldn’t he get out of that form?!

He just wanted to go back. Back to when he was just a normal noodle delivery boy, with the powers of the Monkey King. He knew he could. Obviously he could! If he just left and went home, he could pretend none of this ever happened! The only difference would be that he and all his friends were ageless now. They would get over any anger at him within a week and Mk was sure they’d eventually forgive Monkey King.

It would be fine, so why couldn’t he leave? His fears were unfounded! He hated himself for staying. He didn’t have to! The king wasn’t holding him captive! He was allowed to leave so why wasn’t he able to? He was waiting for a rescue he didn’t need! He could just go so why can’t he?! It made no sense- “Heya, cub!” The sage’s voice jerked him out of his thoughts.

Yeah. Monkey King was calling him cub now. It had taken the place of ‘bud’ in the king’s vocabulary. “Hi, Monkey King!” The kid said, masking his previous fearful expression with a smile.

The older sat down right next to his cub- ‘Too close! Too close! Too close!’- and wrapped his tail around the younger’s waist. It was clearly meant to be a comforting gesture, so why did it terrify him even more? “Having fun?”

‘Too close! No escape! Can’t run!’ “Yup! I’m fine!” Mk said with a forced grin and shuffled to the side.

The king noticed and grabbed his cub’s shoulder to hold him in place as he moved closer again. “Why you tryin’ ta run then? C’mon kid! You can tell me!” He said, though the message was clear. ‘If you have a problem I will fix it.’ Something that some people might find comfort in, but for Mk, who knew the sage, it was terrifying!

Who knew what this impulsive wreck of a ruler would do to keep his cub safe? What if he decided it was Mk’s friends’ fault and dealt with the problem rather… drastically? Mk couldn’t risk it. “It’s nothing. Really! I’m fine!” He deflected with sweat running down his face.

The king knew though. He always knew when Mk didn’t want him to, yet he was always oblivious to the general fear. “I can tell you’re lying, cub.” He tightened his grip.

Mk let out a sharp gasp that almost sounded like a sob and gave in. He steadied his breath and asked softly, “What would you do if I wanted to leave?” not wanting to anger the sage.

“Hm. Well, I’d be sad, but as long as you keep visiting, I’ll be fine!” Was the ruler’s response. The look on his face made it clear he was telling the truth.

And yet, Mk still couldn’t even manage to want to leave. What was wrong with him?! He wanted to see his friends again, but he felt trapped without anyone trapping him! He was free to walk around and Wukong didn’t have anyone stopping him from leaving! Even though it was scary how the monkeys seemed closer when their king wasn’t near. He hated the thought; the thought that he was trapping himself but there wasn’t any other explanation! Wukong wasn’t keeping him there!

He put on a smile and murmured, “Okay, Monkey King.” before moving his gaze to dodge the king’s.

The grip on his shoulder tightening startled him and caused him to groan. “I hope you at least consider staying longer. The monkeys would miss you so much.” The older said with a threatening tone. Mk could almost hear the horror sting, before the grip loosened again and the ruler pushed him off of the rock. He knew better than to move by now. The king shifted to sit behind him and started grooming him calmly. “Sorry if I startled you, cub. I was just a little nervous. You’re so happy here and I don’t want to ruin that.” The sage stated. Like it was a fact.

The kid started tearing up, the tension getting to him. Maybe he should stop pretending everything is fine. Especially since the king seemed to believe him. Though… as the king wiped his tears he considered; maybe he didn’t have to pretend. The sage wasn’t trying to hurt him. He just wanted to keep him safe, right? Maybe… he could enjoy himself! So he decided to just stop pretending. It was high time he let himself relax!

His first mistake was thinking the king would let him go if he wasn’t happy.

His second was not thinking about how his friends were gonna react.

This was the start of something awful, and everyone was about to learn that. Especially the king’s former mate.

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Part two complete! Any suggestions would be great! Again, feel free to make whatever in this AU and of course,

Have fun, and happy scrolling!

(Also, is there a term for Mk's condition? I don't know and I don't think it's Stockholm syndrome)

#lego monkie kid #Lego monkey kid #dad wukong #Yandere Wukong #Does this count as yandere?#obsessive behavior #ClingPeaches AU #LMK #LMK AU #shadowpeach #Mk needs help

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jessicqvswrld · 8 months

Text

Sleepover ~ Rafe Cameron

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x pogue!reader

Warning: sexual references, age gap, loss of virginity, oral(fem receiving), fingering, p in v, unprotected sex. ends with fluff

Sypnosis: Sarah brings her friend over to spend the night while ward and rose are gone.

Word count: forgot.

A/N: this is my first time doing something like this so I don’t really know what to feel about it and it’s probably really bad, but I hope you enjoy! Also I do not condone or suggest a age gap like one in the story, it’s just simply for the plot<3 also not proofread.

As per usual it was a boiling hot day in the obx so when Sarah offered to just hang at her place for while I didn’t say no. Mostly to take advantage the air conditioned space that was her large room. In this hot sun the memory of her intimidating brother I would usually want to avoid slipped my mind completely..

The fresh breeze of cool air hitting my face in heat like this was nothing short of heavenly when we walked in. “Do you want something to drink Y/N?” Sarah asks.

“Yea sure” I say while my eyes wandered to a picture of her older brother on the wall, a little backstory on you two.

You were fourteen when you first met Sarah which made her older brother seventeen, You didn’t exactly hate him but he was never really that nice to you mainly for the fact that you were a pogue.

Now you were sixteen and he was nineteen.

Snapping out of your thoughts and slowly walking in the kitchen. She opens her fridge revealing soft drinks and other groceries. “What do you want.. we have water, soda and lemonade?

“Uhh lemonade?”I say feeling a sudden presence emerge from behind me.

“Who’s here?”

I feel my stomach drop and feeling suddenly anxious at the sound of his voice.

“Just me and my friend douchebag” Sarah says pouring my drink.

He emerges from the steep hallway and take a look at my face.

His expression was a bit complex like he didn’t want to show it but he was pleasantly surprised to see me. It was quickly covered by his bold demeanor.

“What did dad tell you about bringing your pogue friends home?”

“it’s not a big deal and he’s not even here so calm down rafe.”

I stand still awkwardly before Sarah walks over to me.

She hands me the drink, “let’s go to my room I have something I need to tell you.”

I take a sip of the sweet lemonade and follow her up the stairs, sneakily taking a glance at his devilish smirk before heading up.

Once we make it to her room sit down and get comfortable on her bed.. before she starts talking about what the tea she’s been dying to tell me all day.

She tells me about how only a few days ago was when she lost her v-card to topper. My eyes widen a bit at the bluntness of the words. “I thought you said you wanted to wait.” I question

“Yea but I mean I got really curious…and horny.

We erupt in laughter.

“What about you Y/N?”

The question I was hoping wouldn’t come up came up.

“Uhh no I-I never done it before?” You say eyes shyly meeting the floor.

Sarah’s expression drops into a more serious look.

“Really?”

“Not trying to be mean but you don’t seem that innocent.”

“Yea well I kinda am” I chuckle at the thought and just laugh it off.

“I never knew that”

Unbeknownst to you and Sarah.. rafe was outside the door eavesdropping your entire conversation.

It was now 7:00 and you had managed to watch a few episodes of some random tv show Sarah was trying to get you on.. wasn’t really that entertaining though. You both started getting hungry and the snacks we had that were left didn’t seem too appetizing anymore.

“We should order pizza and watch a scary movie” Sarah says.

“Yea that sounds good.”

Sarah switches the tv to horror options. Then puts her phone to her ear getting ready to make the order, when there’s a knock on Sarah’s door.

“What?” She yells annoyed.

The door opens and reveals rafe although your too busy polishing your nails to notice.

“Are you guys hungry?” You can see him jerk his head in my peripheral now glaring at you.

She points to the phone, “yea we’re ordering pizza.”

“Oh okay pepperoni right?”

“Yea now get out.” She says throwing a pillow at the door. I can hear his footsteps head downstairs indicating that the coast was clear.

Once she’s done ordering the pizza she grabs the remote and begins to scroll down the horror section on Netflix. She suddenly stops what she’s doing and turns to you.

“So I hate to be the one to point it out but no one else will so.. have you been noticing how weird my brother acts when your here?”

You reply with “what do you mean?”

“Cmon Y/N don’t act oblivious now”

“You seen the way he looks at you right?”

“Not really no”

“Let me tell you something what he just did right now he never comes in here when it’s just me to see if I’m hungry that’s how I know something’s up he always tries to find excuses to come in my room when your here.”

“He definitely has a little crush on you.” She nonchalantly says throwing a chip in her mouth, conversation quickly shifting in her favorite scary movie she wanted me to see and clicking on it.

My eyes falter a bit taking in all the information she had just told me. A bit stunned at the thought of rafe having those type of feelings for me. Also thinking back at the other occurrences of you coming to the Cameron house, mentally searching for any type of odd behavior from him.

I shake my head though denying the tension.

Meanwhile rafe was going crazy at the thought of you being a virgin, it was true rafe had a little thing for Y/N ever since Sarah started bringing her around sophomore year. He didn’t want to like her. why would he? She a pogue.

He also was afraid of any type of rejection, but he couldn’t resist anymore he wanted you so bad..and he had a plan that he hoped would work tonight.

7:34

The fancy doorbell echoed through the house and Sarah paused the movie that was to your surprise actually entertaining.

You follow her downstairs and see her pull out a $20 dollar bill from her wallet and pull open the door to get the pizza, while you went to the kitchen and grabbed a few paper plates from her pantry.

You heard rafe’s door open and close upstairs indicating he’s coming down, then suddenly feeling a nervous rush course through you.

Once he comes downstairs, Sarah had gotten the pizza placing it on the table and opening it.

“ I’m so hungry.” She exaggerates.

Rafe comes around her and makes sudden eye contact with you which caught you off guard. Then he goes behind you and grabs a plate as well.

His presence was oddly intimidating and a bit awkward if you have to admit, but that could just be your lack of social skills talking.

He was certainly attractive but you felt like apart of you was wrong for thinking that because he’s Sarah’s brother.

You snap out of your brief daze to Sarah asking if you wanted soda, to which you stuttered yes.

While she turned around to get the soda which was behind a few things, rafe took this opportunity to sneak something inside of the pocket of your jean shorts. He followed that with a soft booty slap.. making sure it wasn’t loud to which Sarah would notice.

A breath of air escaped your lips as he did so, leaving you which your mouth agape in shock as you looked back to him, he tilted his head and lowered his eyes to you.

Which your sure would make any kook girl fold.

You turned your head back to Sarah who was still had her back faced us pouring orange soda in a red solo cup before turning and handing it to you.

“Thanks” you say awkwardly taking a sip while rafe picked up a slice and dropped it on his plate.

Pretending that nothing had just happened was probably the most hardest thing you could’ve done feeling like your nerves were so erratic that they were gonna make you explode.

Not even the ac was masking the heat that radiated off your body in nervousness.

She filled her cup and then picked up her plate, “cmon let’s finish our movie.” She says leading me upstairs.

“Okay.” you say in a soft tone, picking up your plate and taking a brief glance at rafe in the kitchen to see he returned the gaze and wasn’t taking his eyes off of you.

Your eyes retreated to where they were before, and you went on about your business closing Sarah’s door behind you.

You reached into your pocket and pull out a note that you opened fully and noticed the writing in black sharpie that spelled out..

“meet me in my room at 10:00”

Halfway into eating our pizza’s and enjoying the movie we were watching, Sarah turned to me and asked if you’d mind topper coming over for a bit.

You obviously weren’t all for him coming over since it was supposed to be a girl’s sleepover but it seemed like you had no choice now. After all this was Sarah’s house, so you really had no say.

She had called him and turns out he’s coming over in a while.

you finish your pizza, earlier’s encounter still fresh in you mind. Suddenly Sarah got bored of the horror movie because she got off the bed and opened her closet door.

“So Y/N topper had got me this bottle for my birthday.”

As she pulled out a bottle of Jack Daniel’s from the darkness of her closet.

You look up from your phone eyes pleading with her but the look she gave told you that she was gonna drink and you were gonna drink with her. You weren’t going to tell her no either, you had to take your mind off rafe someway.

Before you know it a good two and a half hours past by and you had about four shots. Currently working on your fifth while topper was swapping saliva with Sarah on her bed, you figured going to the bathroom just to give them some alone time because you weren’t trying to see it, but partially being from the alcohol that entered your system slowly making its way to your bladder.

You get up from Sarah’s large pink bean bag instantly feeling lightheaded standing up so quickly, you drunkenly stumble towards her door and glance in Sarah’s direction now she was layed down on her bed, topper on top of her still kissing. “I’m going to the bathroom.”you say knowing she didn’t really give a fuck in the moment. But being drunk made you silly.

You open the door and drunkenly stumble your way down the hall, once you make in her bathroom you obviously go pee and then wash your face, suddenly remembering the interaction you had with a certain someone earlier, and the note.

You feel a heat in your chest as you dry your face with a clean towel.

You pull your phone from your pocket and read the numbers that read 10:08, it was time. you feel a rush of anxiety course through your body.

You muster up all the courage and open the door making your way down the hall towards rafe’s room.

You are so nervous to even think about what’s gonna happen once you walk inside, you hesitate to turn his door knob feeling overwhelming anxious, but once you do you are welcomed to a dim room lit by a lamp in the corner, and rafe standing in the middle of it.

He’s wearing a grey tank top and tan shorts secured by a black belt. He looks quite delicious if you’ll admit.

His hair looks a bit wet so you assume he got out of the shower a bit ago.

He looks over to you when he hears the door creak open, a pleasant grin slowly creeps on his face.

He softly sighs, “I didn’t think you’d come Sarah seems to be on your ass”

“Topper’s here so” your voice fades.

You didn’t really know what to say to be honest. This whole interaction was just awkward. You still don’t even know why exactly he wanted you to come to his room. You being drunk really didn’t help. Suddenly remembering why you are still standing here.. your voice fills the room again.

“So what did you need?”

He gets a bit shy and nervous you can tell from him fumbling with his fingers, still trying to practice in his head what he was going to say.

He leans on the bed, “nothing I just wanted to talk to you.”

“Okay about what” you say slowly lowering yourself on his mattress.

“I-I heard what you said earlier” he says awkwardly scratching the back of his neck.

“What did I say?” You reply back curiously furrowing your brows.

Y-You know about you being a virgin.

Your eyes wide a bit at the statement.

You let out a irritated sigh and let the silence invade the room for a few seconds, meanwhile he doesn’t even know what reaction to expect from you.

Your lips smack and your eyes squint, “you were listening” you say slowly.

You slowly sober up due to the conversation and the embarrassment you now felt.

“ yea I mean I didn’t really mean to but-

“Okay so then why am I in here rafe, I mean you really did all this to just make fun of me.. are you serious” you say scurrying up from his bed.

You are not understanding why exactly he’s telling you this, you’re just annoyed at the thought of him going out of his way to just push your buttons.

“I-I’m not trying to make fun of you Y/N”

He gets up and grabs your hand keeping you in place as he explains.

“Okay, so what did you need to talk to me about?” You say taking a deep breath to calm you down.

“Look I was just trying to get your attention, I was thinking maybe If you wanted, I could show you a thing or two..”

“You mean like sex?”

“Yea I mean you don’t have to but yea.”

“Are you joking?” You say eyes meeting the floor.

He chuckles, “no not today”

You repeat his words back to him “not today?”

“Look I know it’s kind of embarrassing for girls to lose their virginity late but you don’t have to worry I’ll show you so you at least know what to expect.” He says trying to persuade you.

But if you were being honest you secretly wanted to simply because he was right and you really didn’t want to be a virgin forever.

Being drunk made you very gullible and any thought of Sarah who was probably getting laid in the next room, didn’t seem to cross your mind at the moment.

After a few seconds of you just looking at one another, you break the silence.

“Um yea okay” you nervously stutter.

“Alright then” he stands up taking you in with his eyes.

“Is Sarah asleep?”

“No she’s with topper.”

“okay then” he says probably knowing that she’s distracted.

His hands move to your waist and in one swift motion he sits on the bed pulling you on top of him so now your straddling him.

One of his hands move up to the side of your neck and the gap is filled between you when he smashes his lips against yours.

You melted into the steamy kiss feeling his soft wet lips brush between yours, it was quick but it felt passionate.

He tastes the liquor that stained your tongue, he goes a bit feral at the taste and kisses you harder, his big hands scrunch the fabric of your blouse.

You feel his bulge below your clothed core twitching underneath you. Which makes you instantly wet. You feel his tongue past your lips exploring the entirety of your mouth.

He breaks the kiss to take off your shirt, panting in anticipation.

kissing you again, you briefly jump off of him to take off your shorts. He doesn’t waste anytime to take off his shirt while your at it.

Once his shirt is discarded somewhere in the room he’s revealed to your figure in just panties and a bra.

His bulge grew tighter in his pants, but he knew he had to be patient with you, to only go at your pace.

You jump back on him kissing him then trailing soft kisses below his jaw.

His breaths go weaker, “Y/N” he whispered.

You move your head back to look at him, he pulls you to the bed beside him by your waist onto the bed slowly coming on top of you.

He continues to kiss you, slowly moving them down the on your neck and eventually to your stomach.

He moves his head up to you, “can I?”

“Yea” you whisper.

He pulls your panties off throwing them on the side of the bed, he takes in the sight of your exposed cunt, and his mouth waters.

He grabs the side of your hips and tugs them to lower his head between your legs, his wet tongue meets your wet slick and you jolt a bit.

His eyes meet yours for a moment before he starts sucking, your legs tense as he feels how wet you are tasting your precum.

His tongue circles your wet folds and you start to softly moan.

Your juices slosh in his mouth and he knows he should speed it up a bit, he slowly brings his middle finger inside of you.

“Fuck your so wet” he murmurs.

You gasp at the feeling as he starts to pump his finger back and forth, you groan in pleasure as he continues to suck your clit driving you crazy.

After a good minute of him doing that and your raspy moans filling the room, the tightness in his shorts starts feeling painful.

He stops what he’s doing which you let out a frustrated sigh, you hear him fumbling with his belt and you look down, seeing he managed to quickly take it off, and his pulls his shorts down, boxers following. You take in the sight of his aroused dick which is bigger than you expected.

He spits in his hand slowly rubbing down his shaft keeping eye contact with you.

He lowers himself on top of you and lines his dick with your entrance, you feel his wet tip rub on your soaked clit.

“Tell me when you want me to stop.”

You nod and he pushes in slowly, you let out a sigh. You place your hands on his shoulders to balance yourself.

He puts his hands on your thighs and lifts up your legs to place them around his hips for a better angle, his hands go on each side of your head while he starts rocking his hips into yours.

It was painful, the stretch felt like it was burning.

You wince at the pain and you feel his tongue brush past your lips, he swallows all your moans.

His dick felt so hard you felt like you were being split into two, but he stayed at a steady pace.

But as you adjusted to his size the pain slowly turns into pleasure as he buried his face into the crook of your neck.

You feel his hot breath on your neck making you shudder, “Fuck Y/N your so tight” he whines.

“Mmhh” you moan.

He sucks on your neck leaving a small hickey behind.

Your moans become a bit louder as his thrusts become sloppier.

The only sounds that could be heard was the slapping of your skin, the shaky breaths and the occasional creak of the bed, that filled the silent room.

He traps your head between his strong arms and your rest your hand on his bicep and the other comes around to his back.

His hips roll into yours continuously hitting your g-spot. You breath shudders as you feel your release approaching.

“Fuck I -I’m gonna cum” you gasp.

You lock your ankles around each other and start to pull him deeper into you.

He lets out a deep groan as his thrusts becomes a bit sloppier and his hips softly slam into yours.

You feel the euphoria of your orgasm come over you and pick your head up to lean in it against his neck breath shuddering in his ear.

It was quite a intimate moment.

You both look at each other for a minute both recovering from your orgasms.

You instantly feel like maybe you should head out now, knowing that rafe was probably not used to having girls hang around after sex.

“I should go”

You scurry from underneath him and grab your underwear quickly putting them on.

After all it had been a good 15 minutes since you told Sarah you had to go to the bathroom.

“What-what about topper” he says.

You had totally forgotten about Sarah having her boyfriend over.

“I’ll go check if he’s still here?” You put your shirt on.

“Fine” he says.

You quickly grab your shorts and put them on.

You crept down the dark hallway into Sarah’s room barely taking a peak at the bed to see topper and Sarah under the sheets together asleep..

You swiftly grab you overnight bag and your charger and return to rafe’s room.

You walked in and he had his boxers on now putting on his shirt. You took a look at scrunched up sheets on his bed, the aftermath of your sex.

“She asleep?” He asks.

“Yea you mind if I crash in here tonight?”

“Yea go ahead”

You set down your things on the floor, feeling the aftermath of sex take its toll on your body.

Your tired and sore, you go into your bag to find your toothbrush and some sweatpants, and you go to his bathroom to change while he fixed the bed.

You brushed your teeth and then jumped into your sweatpants quickly splashing your face with water.

You leave the bathroom and see rafe at his dresser and you make your way to the now tidy bed.

Slowly sitting down, “so was it okay?”

He chuckles and looks at you “it was more than okay you were perfect.”

You grin a bit at the statement, he throws a shirt on the bed beside you, “Here wear this.”

You quickly replace your shirt.

He lays down, you sit down on the bed next to him and search though your messages, and answered your moms text that your forgot to send earlier.

He leans over to you and starts kissing your back and shoulder.

“Come to bed”

You put your phone down and climb into bed next to him, instantly feeling the his warmth under the sheets, you hook your leg on his waist, quickly fall into a sleepy daze.

the rest of the night he cuddled you tightly and peppered kisses down your cheek to the valley of your neck.

#outer banks #outerbanks rafe #obx imagine #rafe obx #rafe x reader #rafe smut #fluff #rafe x y/n #rafe cameron

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