#unsure if will continue but like the idea and wanted to get it down | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dannyriccsystem · 2 months ago

Note

i swear im in love w your posts and your account 😭 the way you write the drivers feels rly accurate, i had an idea for an au after i saw that video w the papaya boys looking down at the camera w their helmets on so maybe something about reader telling the drivers to 'sleep' w them only wearing their helmets 🙂‍↕️hehe no pressure 🧡

THE HELMET STAYS ON.

FORMULA ONE DRIVERS X READER

Summary: Begging the drivers to nail you with their helmet on. And they do.

Warnings: Pure smut, Y/N usage, P in V, foreplay, reader has a tongue piercing in one of them, hair pulling, blowjob, the whole nine yards. Basically really filthy. Also not proofread because it was embarrassing enough just writing this.

Featuring: MV1, DR3, LN4, CL16, CS55, OP81

This video. Oh my days. I have nothing appropriate to say.

One more before I sleep. I’m kind of scared to post this, this is my first super out there post.

(Do feel free to request risqué stuff idm!)

MAX VERSTAPPEN - MV1

“Let me get this straight,” Your boyfriend stood in front of you as you sat, prettily perched on the edge of the bed with an innocent smile, despite what you just asked. “You,” He pointed to you. “Want me,” and then to himself. “To fuck you. With the helmet on.” He raised both of his brows.

You looked off to the side, and then back at him, nodding. “Sounds about right, yeah.” You confirmed. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing, but with a sigh… He reluctantly gave in. Anything for his beloved girlfriend, I guess.

“M-ahhh-x,” You groaned out his name, nails desperately clawing at his bare back for some sort of leverage. Your legs were quivering as he slowly thrusted into you, his hips moving in such a hypnotic way. Even off the track, his pace was consistent, apparently.

All of his skin was exposed, every last inch, except for his face. It was covered by his iconic helmet design, the visor pulled down to conceal the expression in his eyes. You were certain they were darkened with lust, but had no proof of it.

His hands gripped your waist, hoisting you up to get an even deeper angle. Your legs wrapped around him weakly, trying to pull him in closer. At this point, you could barely move them.

He brought his helmeted face down closer to your ear, the sound of his voice deliciously muffled by the soft casing surrounding his head, “You asked for this, lieverd.” You whined out at his typical pet name, which sounded so dirty now. You were unsure if you’d ever be able to see your boyfriend in an innocent light ever again.

Your hands grabbed both sides of his helmet, mouth drawn open in an ‘O’ as you weakly moaned for him. The sweet sounds motivated him further, allowing him to draw out his final thrusts. He pulled out, hands stroking his length as you pressed soft kisses to the surface of his helmet.

He came on your stomach. With one hand, Max lifted the visor while the other gentle traced a heart onto your cum-coated belly.

—

DANIEL RICCIARDO - DR3

“Danny?” You came out of his bedroom one day, finding him relaxed on the couch. He leaned his head over to look at you, motioning for you to continue. In your hands was the cause of confusion— His old racing helmet. The last one he ever wore, to be exact.

It was a black helmet with a sparkly flame that shined different colors depending on the lighting. You remembered him wearing it in Singapore, the last race he ever competed in. It probably held a lot of special memories. “Do you use your old helmets for anything? I see you have a few in our room.”

“Hmm, nah. Mostly just decoration.” He shrugs and turns to sit with one leg folded underneath him, the other hanging over the edge of the couch. His elbows were propped on the back as he stared at you. “Why?” He smirked almost like he could see the gears turning.

“Wanna have sex with one on?” The answer was always yes.

It wasn’t quite what you were expecting, in the best way possible. Nothing could have prepared you for the animal that your boyfriend would become upon exploding this new area of your sex lives.

He had one of your legs pushed in the air, resting over his shoulder, which allowed him more space to thrust experimentally. The other laid on the side of his thigh, your hips held up by his free hand to get a better angle. You propped yourself up on your elbows, head slightly angled down while you stared through damp lashes.

“Fuck, Danny…” You whined, your hips twitching with a little gasp. He groaned, his head falling forward until the helmet was carefully pressed against your forehead. His grip on your raised thigh was tight, practically digging into your skin to keep himself from going feral.

“Feel that?” He muttered, his voice enveloped in the cushy walls of his helmet. The hand that held you up at the waist circled around, palm pressing down on your stomach to emphasize the slight bulge. He cursed under his breath, his hips stuttering and his dick twitching. “Shit.”

He leg your leg fall against the mattress as he carefully slipped out. One hand massaged your sore folds, bringing you to your peak just as he reached his. You both climaxed together, your thighs painted with his arousal.

He carefully lifted the helmet, still panting as he looked down at the mess he made. “Satisfied?” He asked, voice hoarse. You grinned, eyes droopy.

“Very.”

—

LANDO NORRIS - LN4

There was something special about Lando in his signature green helmet. The helmet itself was bland, but it was his staple. When he wore it, it was unimaginably attractive to you.

You tried to ignore it, but during one of his week long breaks, you decided to address the issue upfront. It was a hard topic to approach, so you figured now was a good time to be as blunt as possible.

“I want to fuck you while you wear your helmet.” Literally. As blunt as possible.

He looked taken aback, and rightfully so. His eyes widened, and his mouth fell open. “What?”

“You heard me.”

“Why…” He asked next. It was hard to discern what sort of face that was supposed to be. Confusion? Disgust? Arousal? All three at once?

“Because it’s hot.”

He fell silent, and then pulled you into his room where the helmet in question sat, like it was ready for this moment.

“Not so confident now, are you?” His husky voice murmured in your ear. You were currently bent over with your hands against his bedroom door to support yourself, your ass stuck out against him. All while your legs trembled. If one of his hands wasn’t supporting you under your stomach, you’d have collapsed by now.

Strong hands gripped your hair, tugging your head backwards to get a good look at your fucked out expression, and your stretched neck that was littered with deep purple marks. All you could do was softly cry out in pleasure as a reply to his question, which earned a dark chuckle from your boyfriend.

“Regretting your choice yet?” You shook your head with teary eyes. You couldn’t see his face, cloaked beneath the secrecy of a bright green racing helmet, but you knew for a fact he was smirking. Every thrust was carried out confidently, sending a resounding smack through the room. The sounds were sticky from the buildup of arousal.

“Laan,” You drawled out his name, eyes twitching as you struggled to keep them open. You could feel another orgasm approaching— Just one of many for the night. “P-Please—”

“Please what?” Another tug of the hair, making you whimper. “Use your words, pretty.”

“Let me cum,” You whined, your voice trembling. He continued silently for another thrust or two before the hand on your stomach traveled down to massage your clit, sending you over the edge. You squealed out, lurching forward to rest against the door.

He pulled his throbbing length out, releasing onto your back. With a heavy, satisfied sigh, Lando scooped you up and gently laid you on his mattress, littering your aching body with kisses upon the removal of his helmet.

“You did so good for me.”

—

CHARLES LECLERC - CL16

Charles and you had been together for a while, and it was safe to say you knew your way around each other’s bodies. However, neither of you quite knew the other’s mind.

It was hard to pinpoint the specific kinks and such. If you were both paying attention you could figure out the little things you liked— For example, Charles liked kitten licks on the tip, and he loved you in red lingerie. And you liked sensual sex with romance and eye contact.

However, there was something you had never been able to admit until now. “Can you keep the helmet on for tonight?” He blinked at your question, already half naked and hovering over you, who was… Entirely naked.

“Keep the helmet on?”

“Yeah. Just to try it out.”

It didn’t take much convincing.

The entire experience changed when the helmet came on. Maybe you were expecting him to take a dominant stance, but it seemed as soon as the mask came on he was a whining and stuttering mess.

Charles was propped up on his elbows as you straddled his hips, grinding yourself further onto his impaled cock. He couldn’t even form a sentence, just desperately grip your hips and occasionally involuntarily thrust up into your tight heat. He was thankful for the helmet, actually. That way you couldn’t see his pathetic expression.

“Feels good,” You praised, your voice like honey. He squeezed the fat of your hips tighter, both of his index fingers anxiously tapping against your skin. He wasn’t normally so… Submissive like this.

You reached out, lifting the visor of his helmet to unveil his eyes. Just his eyes, that’s all you could see, but they told you exactly what you needed to know. With furrowed brows and a watery gaze, he made direct eye contact with you.

His hands traveled to find yours, squeezing them tight while you rode him. He could barely ground himself, but your steady presence certainly helped. “Y/N-” He finally managed to splutter out, his legs twitching and his hips jerking.

“Shh, you’re okay,” You whispered, moving your hips faster. “You got it, you’re doing great.” At your praise, he seemed to lose it, spilling deep inside you.

His body collapsed against the mattress, leaving you to carefully lift his helmet and brush his damp hair away from his eyes.

—

CARLOS SAINZ - CS55

You came home from a stressful day to your boyfriend standing in the dining room, examining his racing helmet under the light. “What are you doing?” You questioned softly as you set your things down on the table.

Her flinched, but relaxed as soon as he realized it was just you, and there was no need to be worried. “Just thinking.” You raised your brow as if asking ‘about?’ He showed you the helmet, and you just shrugged with a lack of understanding. “I want to fuck you with it on.”

You blinked at his forwardness, your gaze shifting from the helmet, and then to him. “If you’re comfortable with it, I don’t mind.”

Sex with Carlos was typically slow and sensual, just what you needed after a long day.

Not this time.

He had you folded in ways you didn’t even know were possible. Your knees were pressed to your chest, hands gripping the sheets as he fucked into you in your folded position. He hovered over you, one hand on the headboard and the other on the curve of your ass.

He grunted, but most of the noise was coming from you. “C-… Carlos!” You yelped, surprised by the change in tone. Your eyes twitched, threatening to roll back into your skull. You tried to swallow your moans, but it was impossible to keep silent.

He suddenly grabbed both of your hands, bringing them up to hold your own legs back. He busied his digits with your hole. Two fingers circled your needy clit, making your legs ache and shake. The other two slid right in with his cock, plunging in and out in a rhythmic manner.

“Feel good?” He questioned in that thick accent, ensuring your comfort over all. You couldn’t form a coherent response, leaving you to just nod a silent yes.

It seemed like ages he toyed with your poor hole, but finally he pulled free and let himself release onto your stomach. You let your legs fall to the mattress, twitching occasionally. Both of you panted as he removed the helmet, sweat dripping from his forehead. His hair was beautifully messy.

“That was…” He trailed off.

“Hot,” You finished for him.

—

OSCAR PIASTRI - OP81

You had been giggling to yourself all day as you stared at your phone. It was beginning to make Oscar anxious as he automatically assumed the worst. With sudden steeled courage, he decided to confront you.

“What have you been looking at? You haven’t stopped laughing at your phone.” His tone was calm, but inside he was slightly panicked. That is, until you turned the phone around to show him an edit. Of himself.

He had seen a few of them. Ever since him and Lando filmed that video showing off their helmets, the fans had been going crazy. “What about it?” He tilted his head, not unlike the way he did in said video. Your ovaries basically exploded.

“Do you have your helmet?” He nodded. “Put it on.”

Well, you didn’t have to tell him twice.

This… Wasn’t exactly what Oscar had been expecting. He knew you had something filthy in mind, but to suck him off while he was wearing nothing but his helmet was a little absurd, even for you.

Thankfully, he accepted the freak in you.

Your tongue darted out to give his tip a little lick, the cold metal of your tongue piercing making him twitch. He shuddered, a deep groan leaving his lips. Without even thinking, his hands grabbed the back of your head. However, he relaxed before making any sharp movements, and let it rest there for now.

You experimented further, plump lips encasing his whole tip, cheeks hollowing experimentally. He groaned, head tilted back momentarily. You looked at him through your lashes, giggling around his length when he peered back down, the movement unbearably attractive in your eyes.

You placed your hands on his thighs to balance yourself, and slowly took more of him in. He tried to keep quiet, but he could only bite back so many groans before they started to flood out. As your pace increased, his grip on the back of your head did, too.

Eventually, you weren’t even moving anymore. He was just full on face fucking you to get himself off, and you didn’t care. You let your mouth be used by your boyfriend, whose hips were jerking in and out in a spontaneous rhythm.

He finally came to a stop, his length twitching as he pulled it out. Half of his seed was shot onto your face, while the rest was expertly aimed for your mouth.

He was breathing heavily as he lifted the helmet, peering down at you with a heaving chest. “Holy shit.”

That was by far the most emotion anyone had ever gotten out of him.

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mwphisto · 2 months ago

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I’m not worth it - Rafayel

Rafayel is genuinely appalled when you tell him that he could find a partner so much more worthy of his love. Not only is he appalled that those words left your lips, he’s utterly appalled that you said them with 100% sincerity.

Better than you? Better than the woman he waited 800 years for? Better than the woman he gave up his entire world for? Better than the woman who owns his heart? Seriously? Do you even hear yourself when you talk?

The anger that flashes across Rafayel’s face has you shrinking back, heart pounding because you realize you are in a world of trouble for saying such a thing. Not just because of the fear, but because he is responding so fiercely to your self deprecating proclamation.

“What?” It’s nothing short of a hiss, a look of genuine disgust on his face. Not at you, but at the heinous idea you dared to utter. “I said I—“ but he cuts you off, a noise of pure anger leaving the artist’s lips.

“I heard you the first time, and I most definitely do not want to hear those words again.”

Then, he’s moving towards you, lithe hands coming up to cup your heated cheeks. The intensity in his gaze urging you to break eye contact but you don’t dare to. “Who do I have to kill?” And you blink, unsure of how to proceed.

“Who do I need to kill?” Again, leaving you lost. “WHO put those god awful thoughts in your pretty little head, cutie? WHO do I need to kill for ever making you doubt your worth of my love and affection.”

And your throat is drying up, because if you give him the honest answer he’d have to kill— “m-me.”

“You?” Rafayel is holding you a little tighter, heart thumping in agony that the creature who could conjure up such evil ideas was none other than yourself.

“What have I done to make you feel like this?” Because clearly he’s done something wrong along the way. Was he too bratty? Too dramatic? Did he make one too many sarcastic comments? Did he act some sort of way that made you question his feelings? He’s spiraling.

“You did nothing! God no, Raf. You’ve done nothing it’s just… me I guess. Self conscious. I-imposter syndrome even! Just… got too lost in my own head and…”

You’re spiraling too, and he can see it just as you picked up on the way he began to lose it. And you still have the audacity to think he wouldn’t burn the world for you? To be able to pick up so easily on his derailing train of thought.

“My love, my entire heart…” he’s coming down, coaching himself mentally to take deep breathes because nothing will get solved if he loses it like he usually does. “… I would destroy the entire world if it meant keeping you happy.”

“I would do whatever you asked me too with no hesitation. You mean everything to me, more than everything. Why would you ever deem yourself unworthy of my love?”

Tears leaked down your cheeks now, not because of your own insecurities but because of how fiercely he was loving you. The way he always had, maybe that was part of the reason you had begun to feel so unsure.

“I think I just…” you sniffle, leaning into Rafayel’s touch as he thumbed away the tears on your cheeks. “…I guess I got so overwhelmed with your love. That… part of me felt undeserving. You’re so handsome, talented, you have a kind soul even though you try to hide it. I’m just… me.”

“Exactly. You’re just you. Perfect in every way. So beautiful, so strong, brave, equally as talented.” His eyes search yours before continuing. “You’re equal amounts of loving and sweet. You put up with my antics like nobody else, you have time for me when nobody ever has.”

“I may not be the easiest lover. I may be dramatic, I may carry my own emotional baggage that I struggle to open up about. But there is one thing I am certain about, one thing I will proudly proclaim with my whole heart. And it’s the fact that I love you more than anything. More than my art, more than my career, more than Lemuira.”

You’re crying hard now, hands holding his wrists. The warmth seeping into his skin as your tears leak down and collect on his palms. He hasn’t let go of your face, he doesn’t think he’ll be able to either. “Please, cutie. My love, my heart, my beautiful girl… the next time you’re feeling like this. Tell me before it becomes unbearable.”

You can only manage a nod, hiccuping as he tugs you close to place kisses all over your face. “I would lay down my life and die for you, so don’t you ever think that you are unworthy of my love. You’re perfect for me, the only woman I could ever want. I waited 800 years for you to return to me, and now that you have, I’m never letting go.”

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thecoochiefairy · 1 month ago

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cybersex. onyankopon.

𑄽𑄺 warnings 𑄽𑄺 8.2K word count. camgirl!blackfemreader, original!blackfemreader, contentcreatorcoded! onyankopon, sweet!onyankopon, dominant!onyankopon, size kink, black woman, vaginal penetration, lil bit of sweet talkin’, aggressive talk, creaming, oral [f], choking, praising, LOTS of dirty talk, squirting, riding, missionary, stand n’ carry fucking, condomless sex, kissing, spanking, multiple orgasms, minors aren’t welcome!

━━ 𝒄𝙤𝒐𝙘𝒉𝙞𝒆𝙛𝒂𝙞𝒓𝙮 𝙩𝒉𝙤𝒖𝙜𝒉𝙩𝒔 .ᐟ reference to the title, this song did inspire this fic. teehee—nasty, okay? that’s all i can say about this one. just nasty. might be one of my faves, idk.

visual. visual. visual. visual.

THE PINK PLUSH OF YOUR DUVET SOFTENS BENEATH YOUR TOES AS YOU LAY ATOP OF IT, curved nails wrapping around the cherry sunken between your heart shaped lips. You didn’t think this would be as hard as it was, but you were now on hour three of scrolling in between OnlyFans and Twitter—you’d found nothing.

Your job wasn’t something anyone expected of you. You were quiet, reserved, introverted—But being in front of a camera? Well, that was different.

A Cam Girl, to be exact. You’d only been in the industry for about a year and a half, but the money you made versus working as a bartender was tenfold— your experience with people was all in the making of your success. Your smile, those slender eyes combative in getting what they wanted, dark curls framing the doll shape of your caramel face.

You leaned into the camera every other night to show off the multitude of lingerie you’d bought, twisting your fingers against the satin bow between your large breasts, comments flooding as your customers waited for an accidental slip to show. Your legs spread open, teeth digging into the plush of your lip as you fucked yourself, moaning blasphemies into the camera—or, a couple scandalous pictures posted if you were working overnight at the bar.

Your customers would ask, Are we ever gonna see a collab?

It’s not that the thought never crossed your mind. But to anyone’s surprise, you’d only known the pleasures of exploring your own body. You’d had sexual partners, but none that ever satisfied you the way you could yourself. Your customers enjoyed watching you indulge yourself, but just like them, something in you might’ve wanted something—different.

So here you were—continuously scrolling through male content creator’s to possibly do a collab with—you just were unsure how comfortable you were with the entire idea. To make matters worse, you couldn’t find anyone that piqued your interest.

You leaned your jaw against your palm as you fell deeper into the bed, a soft sigh parting your lips as your finger flicked the mouse pad down your timeline. Your eyes were practically immune to the nastier side of Twitter. But then—you stopped.

Onyankopon.

Licensed massage therapist. Top .015% on OnlyFans.

His profile picture might’ve gotten your attention. It was simple, but enough. You could tell that he might’ve had a head full of hair, as it was braided to the back in cornrows, clear beads hanging at the end of them. His brown skin almost carried a red undertone beneath the lights, tattoos and silver jewelry complimenting the bistre of his complexion. His lips—full, the perfect shape, coated by the sable of his facial hair. Tattoos scattered all over his body—neck, arms, crawling all the way up to his face—the cross along his cheek twinkling next to the silver stud in his nose. He was pretty.

But as you continued to scroll down…pretty isn't the word you’d use for him. Your eyes nearly widen at the sight of his di—

It’s big. Huge, even. Veins protrude throughout it, the tip as flush as his lips. It nearly reaches his mid thigh. The sculpt of his body was insane, and you felt your mouth watering. You’d never had this reaction before— But your body seems to react worse as you keep scrolling. Videos of him and other women, the darkness of the rooms are curated in candles and roses, lights blaring colors for a sensual environment. Each girl smiles sultrily as they all start the same—he talks with them, has them become comfortable as they sit along the massage table. He touches them in an almost innocent way, keeping their attention—Then, his touches become less innocent, and to see the way he handles them—the squeals, screams, orgasms are like no other. They cum in raptures, squirt all over him—his voice grunts, praises in satisfaction. They made your jaw drop, glasses tipping over your nose.

They might’ve had you squeezing your thighs together, too. So you did what you didn’t expect yourself—You messaged him.

bimbopiscesprincess: hey, um. do you happen to live in new orleans?

You received a response almost immediately. You can see the typing bubble, making your heart skip at how fast he’d seen your message.

onyo: hey. yeah, i do. why?

Before you could even type out your next message, another notification pops up at the corner of your screen.

onyo: user is typing…

And then—

onyo: hollon’. i know you.

Your eyes blink at that. You showed your body to the world on a regular basis, so why did that sentence make your face go warm?

bimbopiscesprincess: oh. you do?

onyo: yeah. the bartender down on canal at the blue bayou. saw you behind the bar a couple of times.

It’s hard to contain the way your heart rate picks up— Your stomach is flipping at the idea. You type back immediately.

bimbopiscesprincess: i guess that’s better than saying you’ve seen my videos, lol.

onyo: i guess i should’ve clarified. i’ve seen your videos. yo’ pussy pretty as hell, face too.

Your eyes go wide. You can’t help but bite the corner of your lip, a light feeling in your chest as your fingers press against the keys.

bimbopiscesprincess: well um—thank you, lol. sorry, i’m a lil’ different when the camera isn’t on.

onyo: don’t gotta apologize, girl. you’ cute regardless.

He types a couple minutes after.

onyo: so what’d you hit me up for? i ain’t tryna’ stop talkin’ to you, just curious.

You stare at the screen, eyes flickering up and down his messages. Did you really want to do this? Could you? The man made you nervous through text.

bimbopiscesprincess: i don’t mean to be forward, i was just curious on how this whole collab thing works? i mean, that’s even if you were interested.

onyo: you don’t gotta be shy. we can call and talk

‘bout it if you’d like.

You go to reach for another cherry, but your fingers can’t seem to find the bowl. Your heart was beating.

bimbopiscesprincess: right now?

He’d messaged you a number, which you assumed was his. Your fingers seemed to dial it on their own, nerves beginning to eat at you as the ringer went off.

Ring. Ring. Ring.

And then he answered, voice heavy and smooth.

“Hey, mama. How you’ doin’?”

Your voice is breathless, “Hi. I’m um—I’m fine. I hope I didn’t wake you?”

He lets out a chuckle. It’s low, deep and gravelly.

“You’ good. I was just scrollin’ on my computer when you decided to hit me up. Glad you did.”

He pauses, “You born and raised in the boot?”

“Uptown,” you hum, “Graduated from Xavier. You?”

“You’ smart, I like that shit. But yeah— I grew up on the Westbank. Did college out in Baton Rouge, came back to work with my momma before I started doing content. She owns a couple shops down here.”

Even when he was just talking, his voice was like velvet, thick, and raspy. It had you unconsciously squeezing your thighs together.

On top of that, you didn’t necessarily expect all this dialogue with him.

You say it before you think, “Are you usually this open in conversation with the girls you collaborate with?”

He chuckles again, the sound vibrating against your ear through the receiver, “Not really, nah. But it’s not hard to have a conversation.”

He lets out a sigh, almost like he’s stretching, “You asked how the collabs worked, right? We ain’t even get to that part.”

“Right,” your voice is soft, “So—you wanna explain it to me? I mean—it’s probably simple, but—I just—“ you stop yourself with an awkward giggle, “Sorry, Go ahead.”

“You good, baby. It’s how it sounds, so I promise you ain’t off with the idea. We’ll just plan out a date and time, you’ll come to mines, and—“ He exhales, like he just realized he was getting off track, “Let me not bore you with extra shit—it all depends what you’ comfortable with, first.”

Your eyebrows raise at that, “What I’m comfortable with? So—it doesn’t necessarily have to be sex? I mean—sorry, that’s a dumb question. I just see that you’re specialized in massaging, so—yeah.”

“You ain’t gotta keep apolgizin’ to a nigga. I swear, you’ good. Sex brings in a bigger payout for the both of us, but I got all types of ways I can service you if you’ not comfortable with that. Just say what it is.”

You think to yourself—this is your line of work. You didn’t have to be nervous or scared. This could bring in more attention to your page, and you could get a new experience out of it.

Your voice is a bit softer as you reply, “I’m open to anything.”

Another chuckle. It’s heavier this time.

“You sure?”

You nod your head, “I’m sure. I’ll see you then, Onyankopon.”

Then was sooner than you’d expected it to be. Two weeks had gone by, officially making a date after you’d both gotten tested. Your eyes flicked up to the high rise condos glowing into the starry night of the sky, coaxing you into the entrance. You almost couldn’t feel your legs from the moment you stepped into the lobby to show your ID to the receptionist, your lower body numb as you stood outside the door to his apartment. 888 was his door number. Figures.

With a small breath, your fingers tightened along your baby pink Telfar tote, other hand raising up to the door as you knocked. You waited.

When the door opened, you couldn’t even think to prepare yourself.

He was tall, even taller than on videos. But it was in a more muscular, wider way. He wore a fitted black tee that showed the extent of his broad shoulders, with a pair of sweatpants. It was casual, but he looked like he’d just rolled out of a photoshoot, durag shining in the light as he towered over you.

“Hey, baby.”

His voice was deeper in person, something you didn’t expect, your fingers tightening around the handles of your bag.

You’d always been confident in yourself. In your body, your shape— Your hips were as full as a woman who’d given birth, ass and thighs almost preposterous in curves. It showed under the BODYBYRAVEN teal set you wear—the yoga pants and jacket hugging your frame, your curls draping over your body in lazy waves, black furry boots covering your feet. You were cute to him, but in a way that had him glaring at the sight of you.

“Hi,” you gently greet back, “I hope I didn’t knock too loud,” your fingers tug a curl behind your ear.

“I told yo’ ass about allat’ apologizing. Come on.”

He moves to the side, the aroma of his body oil wafting through your nose—something sweet, musky and spicy. You felt yourself almost wanting to taste him, your stomach fluttering by the time you’d made it inside.

The condo is large, high-end, yet it carries a homey touch to it. A large glass window overlooks the view of the river and city. You weren’t that nervous—until you saw the maple wood of the massage table, the plush material atop for comfort making your heart pound in your chest—and then, the blaring sight of the professional lights tilting directly onto the furniture, camera stands holding the perfect angle of the scenery.

You drop your bag beside the sofa, running your fingers through your hair as you ask, “You were um—setting up?”

“Wanted to get it out the way ‘cause I knew it’d take yo’ ass a while to get here,” he pokes fun, “You’ hungry? A nigga been cravin’ pasta like a muhfucka’.”

You can’t help the way your face flushes—his voice was just as sweet as it was heavy. You didn’t expect him to be so—real?

The question was genuine, as if he’d sensed your nervousness. It reminded you that you needed to answer.

“You don’t have to do that,” you shake your head, “I don’t wanna’ impose or—make you feel like you have to make me comfortable.”

“Why you bein’ like this, huh? I stink or sum’?”

He goes to sniff under his arms, and it makes you giggle a bit at the sight.

You sigh, “No, no. I’m—I’m sorry, okay? You’re being very sweet— I’m being weird, aren’t I?”

You lean against the counter, “I just haven’t done this before, Onyankopon. That’s all.”

“Ony. You can call me that.”

His jaw shifts, “Come here. You’ nervous for no reason.”

Your lips part a bit, but you don’t move forward.

“I guess I just didn’t expect you to be so—normal.”

“Normal,” he repeats, a light chuckle rumbling in his throat. It was deep, chest vibrating within your ear, “I can’t be nothin’ else. You ain’t gotta be different either.”

You nod your head, taking in his words. Your eyes fall behind him as you notice the array of snacks in his open pantry, eyebrow raising as you flick your vision back to him, “Oatmeal Cream Pies? Really?”

“You judgin’ me, huh?” he grins down at you, “What, I gotta’ be all high end ‘cause I do what I do?”

“Nah. I’m judging ‘cause they’re nasty,” you retorted back, finding a seat on one of the stools, “Just a lil’ surprised is all.”

“I could say the same about you, girl— Actin’ all shy in person when you be goin’ crazy on camera.”

Your eyebrows raise, your face flushed once again, “How bout’ you focus on that pasta you supposed to be makin’ me? ‘Cause you just wanna talk!”

“A nigga must’ve hit a nerve,” he chuckles, but steps away to rummage further into the kitchen.

"What I do, what you do—same difference."

His voice is muffled under the sound of the stove, but he continues, "You gon’ tell me it’s not?”

“It’s not. Self pleasure versus connecting with someone else is two completely different things,” you point out, leaning your head in your palms as you watch him move around the kitchen, back flexing in return.

He looks down at you with a smirk, hand reaching up to grab two plates from the cabinet above with ease. Something about that made you tug at your lip.

“What? You ain’t gon’ argue back with me?” You question.

“Nah,” he shrugs.

”Don’t gotta’ argue what I know is right.”

“I think I’d like it better if a man didn’t argue anyways,” you confess, another small giggle falling from your lips.

You can hear the smile in his voice, “You like a nigga that’s gon’ tell you sum’. Ion’ believe that.”

“If that was the case, I might’ve done a collab a long time ago. So wrong. Feed me, now?”

“See. You ain’t that shy. Lyin’ ass.”

This man couldn’t have been good at everything. You had to keep your reactions to yourself as the pasta melted in your mouth, warm and just the right amount of flavor. The minute you placed your fork on the plate, you sighed, “Now I’m gonna’ be bloated on camera.”

“You got a pretty ass shape, girl. Niggas gon’ kill to see you in any state.”

He picks a noodle from his plate, leaning over to you. His eyes are hooded, brown and pretty. He nudged the fork to your lips, “Open.”

That compliment—it throws you off a bit. A part of you almost had to remember this was a part of a job, and nowhere near a date.

So your voice is soft as you lean back, “I should probably get dressed.”

Your lashes are fluttering in a way that’s returning to nervousness, so he steps back.

“You’ right. But if you need anythin’, let me know—You got a preferred kind of music you want? Imma’ go start settin’ up.”

“PARTYNEXTDOOR is always good,” you hum, “I’ll be back.”

You should’ve had a glass of wine to cure your nerves. You make your way into your bag, sifting through the contents to find the perfect lingerie set. But then you thought—you had to push yourself in some way.

So you retouch your makeup, fix your hair, and slip on the deep blue of a satin robe you owned. The material was short, nearly teasing the cheeks of your ass, your body completely bare as your breasts loosely moved beneath the top. Your honey freckles appear lighter under the complexion of your robe, and you exhale, feet paddling along the floor as you make your way back into the living room.

You slow down as you see him—now shirtless, and as your eyes continue to travel down, you can also see the bulge pushing through his sweats as he adjusts the lights against the table.

“Need any help?”

He looks up at you, brown eyes narrowing the moment he catches your appearance. You were pretty, pretty in a way that felt different from anyone else.

“I’m good. C’mere, though.”

His voice—heavy and dark, beckoned you over to him. He was like a dog under your gaze.

You move the moment he asks you to. You come forward, somehow keeping your face away from the camera as you hide your expression with your hair, “Should I change?”

He steps into your space, the scent of you making him move in closer—it’s milky, musky—fingers brush under your chin with ease to capture your attention. Tilting your face upwards, Onyankopon’s eyes lower into yours. It felt invasive, in a way that made your stomach twist.

“Ain’t no words to compare how fuckin’ pretty you’ look. You’ ready?”

You nod, sitting yourself along the massage table, the tip of your toes just barely reaching the floor as you keep your eyes on him. It’s a scene you’d seen before—the rose petals, the candles, the music almost has your shoulders hike up. The plush of your lips pressed together, your breasts spilling slightly from the soft fabric.

“Do I look nervous?” you try to whisper, the chuckle he gives in return making you release a light giggle.

He moves to sit against the end of the table, his back still to you as he reaches for one of the cabinets, picking a few oils out before placing them beside the massage bed.

“You can be nervous. You wanna tell me why?”

It’s all he questions, his gaze still on the items in front of him. You felt your heart rate pick up a bit when he looked behind him, eyes peering over you.

“…I’ve never had a man—well, anyone, make me—you know,” you admit to him, “I’m nervous about that, I guess.”

“That ain’t a bad thing, Mama. Ain’t gotta’ be embarrassed about nothin’ with me.”

You can feel his presence now towering over you from behind, his voice vibrating through the music fading within the background as he finds a clasp of your curls, gently pulling you enough for your eyes to meet his.

“Imma’ take care of you. You’d like that?”

The question itself, you’re unsure why, but it instantly makes you horny. To make matters worse, he brings his face lower, looming his lips above yours. The moment feels heavy, and it makes your chest rise a bit, your lips patting a soft exhale as you hear him say, “Gotta let me know if I can touch you, baby. C’mon.”

You nod, “You can touch me, Ony…”

He moves to the front of you, sliding your lower body off of the table as he holds you by the arch of your foot. His thumbs dig into the muscle, and the feeling rushes along your entire body, making a chill graze down your spine. It makes your hips visibly tense. The warmth from the oil makes it no better.

“Sorry,” you mindlessly part from your lips, an awkward giggle after.

You see that he muses at the reaction, eyes flickering with that sensuality you couldn’t place.

“What you’ apologizin’ for?”

His hands move up the leg he holds, palms gripping, large and strong. He’s deliberate in every move he makes. Every touch.

As his hands travel farther up your left thigh, he places it along his shoulder, the arch of your toes directly besides his ear. A pressure begins to develop at your inner thigh. When he stretches your leg even farther, his bulge presses right against your clit—the warmth has your nails digging into his bicep.

“You flexin’. That feels good for you, huh? Want me to stay here?”

When you go to find your words, Onyankopon presses a sweet kiss to the side of your foot—Then, his tongue is grazing the flesh, lips wrapping along your toes, sucking.

This was one of your spots.

You nearly jump out of his hold, your thighs trembling as your eyes flutter shut. You gasp, “O—Ony…”

“There we fuckin’ go. How’ you holdin’ up, baby?”

He’s soothing you, still sucking your toes.

It makes you reach up for his shoulder, pulling him closer by the nape of his neck. You’re bad at saying what you want, so you rub your lips against his, breath shuddering in return. They were soft.

“Nuh-uh,” he mumbles against you, pulling back enough for him to give you a look, “Gotta’ ask for it. I wanna’ hear you.”

Your slender eyes flicker up, lips pouting for him to take yours.

“Wanna kiss, Ony.”

“Yeah? Where? Here?”

Onyankopon tugs you, gripping you by your jaw so he could give you a taste of his lips, a smacking sound swelling as he quickly pulls his mouth away.

He repeats it along your throat, your head knocking down as you pant, sticking your tongue out as you whimper, “My mouth.”

His lips press against your collarbone, then your shoulder—slower this time, almost teasing you along the stretch of your neck before he gives you that taste of his lips again—it’s all you’ve been waiting for. His tongue dips in and out of your mouth, nearly dragging against your lips—he’s sinful in his kisses.

After minutes of him devouring you, he pulls away, a string of spit bridging you both together as his dark gaze finds your eyes. You’re drooling.

“Imma’ need that pussy droolin’ on my mouth next. You gon’ let me eat her?”

His lips are sucking the skin of your stomach into his mouth, trailing lower—you squeak as he tugs you further off the table, your legs in the perfect angle above his shoulders to see everything within the camera.

He’s bringing it closer, and your face flushes as you whimper, “Ony—I’ve never—“

“I know. Just need you to keep talkin’ to me.”

When he speaks, you can feel his words caress your folds—they glisten under the lights of the camera, his hands gripping the soft of your thighs as his eyes find yours. His face is handsome, yet so different from this angle. Your lips part to speak, but his thumbs rubbing along your inner thighs—your words turn into a soft mewl.

That’s when you feel it—his tongue drags along the entirety of your pussy, his groan muffled, “Knew this shit was gon’ taste good as fuck. You finna’ be a problem.”

Your fingers are knotted in the braids of his hair, legs quivering at the first contact.

You hate yourself for it, but you turn your head away from the camera as you whimper again, knocking your eyes down as you stutter, “Ohmygo-Ony.”

He groans at the sight of you hiding from the lens, his mouth kissing at your clit, “You cute as hell,” his full lips wrapping against the pink bud, vibrating as it’s being sucked up by his mouth. Slurps fill your ears, and your thighs are back to trembling.

“You doin’ good, baby. Shit.”

He pulls your legs wider apart, giving the camera an unobstructed view of your body. You whimper even more, mortified, but he doesn't relent. With a swift motion, he raises his palm against your folds, massaging your pelvic, fingers splayed on your pussy—he’s rubbing, teasing.

You’re holding your breath, slender eyes flickering down to watch his palm graze your clit each time his fingers move. His voice is low, “Keep them’ muscles relaxed, baby. That’s how we finna’ get you to cum.”

Then, he’s taking his index and middle finger—it’s rubbing directly on your clit, and instead of tensing up, you moan softly. He’s continuously grinding his fingers around your clit, slowly, your breath steady as you softly whimper, “Okay.”

You can see him directly into the camera—his beard begins to glisten as he lowers his mouth back down—he’s making out with your pussy, tongue wagging as if he’s lapping to drink you. His eyes find yours, grunting at the sight of your face screwed up.

Slurps echo through the room louder as Onyankopon dives deeper between your thighs, his tongue flattening against your clit, lapping in long strokes. His free hand comes to grip your hip as he eats you out, groaning in appreciation of your flavor .When he glances back up at you, his eyes are dark with lust, and he grins, showing you the wetness coating his beard.

"You' taste so fuckin’ good, baby," he growls, “Like you' been savin’ this shit just for me."

Your eyes roll, your back arching up from the table as you squeeze his hair under your fingers. You give a low whine, “O—Ooh.”

It’s as if your every reaction makes him go more, and you can feel the flesh of your thighs becoming drenched in your own arousal. It’s when he sucks your clit up into his mouth, shaking his head side to side into your folds, the schlick of your pussy nearly making music against his mouth. That’s when you really tremble, your thighs vibrating on their own as you whimper, “Ooh-oohshit.”

Onyankopon’s tongue continues to stroke on your clit, the pulse intensifying with each passing second. His grip tightens on your hip, fingers digging in as he uses his other hand to spread your pussy open for him, exposing more of your slick flesh to his eager mouth.

“Gimme’ this shit," he grunts, fucking your clit with his tongue in a rapid, filthy rhythm. Up and down, up and down.

He’s nothing you’ve ever dealt with before. Onyankopon raises his mouth, drooling saliva onto your pussy and letting it drip in between your folds, coating the increasing slick of your pussy. You’re already shuddering, but that just made it worse.

“A nigga need you gushin’ on his fingers.”

Onyankopon brings his forehead up to yours— not before sucking your perked nipples into his mouth roughly, then taking his fingers as he grazes them back up your folds, continuously rubbing—he’s rubbing.

You could’ve blacked out. Your palm clings onto his jaw the moment his fingers nudge in between your folds, sinking in so easily that you barely feel them. But when you do, they’re deep, and your eyes roll as you clutch the nape of his neck—you messily whine, “Ohfuck—O—Ony…”

He gives a sharp grunt through his nose as he feels your walls tighten around his fingers,"Come on, baby," he murmurs, slowly pumping them in and out of your soaking folds, “Let it happen. I know you cum so muhfuckin’ pretty.”

The sound of squelching flesh fills the room as he works you over. Your eyes shut, holding him so tight as if to gain some control in your body. Your eyes roll as you cry a moan—Onyankopon groans, “Shit, you tremblin’."

He watches your face contort with pleasure, claiming your lips in a dominating kiss, tongue plundering your mouth as he fucks you harder with his fingers. Onyankopon breaks the kiss, looking down at where he's buried to the knuckle inside you.

“Look how muhfuckin’ wet you are. Pretty lil’ bitch— you finna’ milk my fingers.”

It just happens—your stomach coils the deepest groan, your entire body trembling as the vibration flows to your lips—tears lightly puncture your eyes as you lean yourself farther into his forehead, a whine shakily gasping from your lips as you squeal, “Onnnnyyy-fuckkk.”

You’re squirting, the arousal drowning his fingers as your lower body convulses onto his palm.

“Ohmygoddd.”

You tense, Onyankopon’s other hand tugging up at the back of your neck as he holds you up more into the camera.

You don’t stop—it’s everywhere, the groans releasing from your lips whiney as he’s practically milking your squirt, his voice rumbling with approval, “Thereee’ you go. You soakin' my fuckin' hand. Look at that shit."

His mouth is back on your pussy, nodding up and down into your folds, tongue fucking your opening, coaxing more gush from your between your legs.

Your fingers grip onto his shoulders as you whimper, “O—Onyyyy…fuck, baby.”

You're shaking, tears streaming down your face—Onyankopon laps his tongue once more against your clit as you coat his mouth and chin. His thrusts become irregular, shallow, lazily curling inside you—he’s like a demon. But finally, he stops.

Your legs are still over his shoulders, panting, your palms sliding along the swell of your breasts as you just breathe.

“You aight, baby?”

Your eyes are shut. You move your palm up to your face, covering yourself along the camera as you nod your head.

He doesn’t mean to. But he chuckles, fingers sliding up along your stomach to help you breathe, “Yeah? You wanna take a lil’ break?”

You nod your head again. You’re dazed.

“Yeah. I—I need a minute,” you mutter.

He’s already helping you straighten up, sliding your legs off his shoulders as he asks you softly, “Want some water? Tea? I know it’s too late for coffee, but we got another hour of filmin’.”

You want to answer. You really do, but your body is still trembling a bit, your legs buzzing—you lean your forehead into his chest, a flushed giggle releasing from your lips as you whisper, “Tea, please.”

He chuckles in return, hand caressing along your shoulder—it’s the first time you noticed the rosary tattooed on it, complimenting his brown skin.

“Aight. You’ want it sweet? Sugar—“

Before you can answer, you feel something press into your neck—his forehead. He leans against you, almost in a cuddling manner, lowering his height for you to relax.

“You gon’ be good while I go make it? Not gon’ fall asleep?”

“Camera is still rolling, Ony. I’m fine,” you promise, “I like my tea sweet, yeah. Thank you.”

He gives you a soft tap on the chin, his eyes lowering along your form before he makes his way into the kitchen. You find yourself fixing your hair, adjusting the robe along your body before you exhale—You were still shaky, but it didn’t make your heart race the way it did before.

Your eyes follow him over to the kitchen, watching the way his muscles flex with every movement he makes. The silence is comforting, but you somehow still feel awkward around him.

Your voice is soft as you ask, “How come you never left New Orleans?”

He leans over the counter to turn the stove on, the candles in the room making his eyes look darker.

“I wanna’ protect it. Not only my family—but my people. When it got rough, my brothers moved to Texas for better opportunities, started their careers—I was cool makin’ a name for myself here.”

When he turns back around, his face is a bit softer, almost innocent. He moves his shoulders a bit.

“Why’ you ask that?”

You press the fullness of your lips together, “You just—seem like you have it all together. A huge fanbase, and there aren't many of us who reside here. L.A or Houston is more on the nose—I just figured maybe you’d fit in there too.”

“My manager been pushin’ for it, but the people in L.A are superficial as hell—I got fans here, and that’s enough. Ain’t always about the money.”

He looks back at you.

“And what about you? You want a bigger fanbase?”

You think about that question.

“Well—don’t get me wrong—I love being in front of the camera, but my dream has always been to get my life together and move to Tokyo,” you giggle a bit, “Sounds silly, I know. Plus—I’m close to thirty, and I don’t know how okay my future husband is gonna be with me showing myself online for money.”

He chuckles when you giggle, coming over to hand you the tea before he takes a seat next to you. When you move to sit beside him, you still feel vulnerable—but at ease.

“It’s doable—All in how you plan. You’ want the family, the white picket fence too—allat’?”

You hold the mug in your palms, letting it warm up your hands for a moment. You then look up at him, nodding your head.

“I do. The way you’re talking— I guess it’s safe to assume that’s not what you have in mind?”

“It’s the end goal, but nah. I got a long while ‘til that,” he responds, reaching his hand out to caress your shoulder when he sees you shiver.

When you’re quiet for a moment, he clears his throat.

“You gotta’ nigga?”

Your eyebrow raises, “That’s a serious question?”

“It can’t be?”

His gaze is musing on you, eyes flickering to the way you press your body closer to his palm.

“If you do, this shit could get you into some trouble with yo’ nigga.”

It’s a teasing tone, but it holds a little weight. He wanted a direct answer.

You throw it back to him, “Do you got a bitch?”

“If I say yes, you gone’ be mad?”

“I’m not, I’d actually feel bad for her—cause I’d lose my mind if you was doin’ shit the way you do on camera—and I’m sitting at home—yeah, hell no.”

“So you’ the jealous type. Interesting,” He responds, lifting his own mug of tea to his lips.

“I don’t,” he then confirms, “You still ain’t answering my question, girl.”

“My nigga would either be doing this with me as a couples content channel, or I wouldn’t be doing it at all. So no,” you shrug, “And I’m not jealous. But I’d kill a man if he was eating my pussy the way you did and then doing it to every other bitch across the state for a couple dollars,” you sip your coffee, “Jealous? I guess.”

His lips are smiling against the rim of his mug, giving you a look from the corner of his eye, “Sounds like you tryna’ be a nigga ole’ lady.”

That’s how you were making it sound. Dammit.

You play it off, “Maybe you want me to be your ole’ lady, and this is reverse psychology, hm? Right. And even if I was sayin’ that, it looks like you gon’ have to clear all them’ messages in your phone first.”

His laugh is loud, like music to your ears. It makes that tingly feeling in your stomach tighten the more you hear it. It’s different from the ones you hear in his other videos. He seems more genuine, more personal with you.

He reaches a hand out to nudge you with his shoulder, “You gon’ be mean to me like this now? Ion’ like that shi’, girl.”

“You laughin’, but I’m serious.”

“I heard you, Mama. Chill.”

You take the final sip of your tea, placing it down on the table behind the camera. You question, “You’ ready to massage me now?”

“You ain’t ready,” he shoots back, “Gon’ head and take that robe off—Need you naked as fuck.”

The command makes your body thrum—you’re surprised, but after he makes you smile, it somehow makes it so easy to listen to him. Maybe hornier than before.

The moment he takes both mugs into the kitchen to wash off, you press your body into the soft material of the massage table, kneeling yourself on your knees as you slowly drag the silk of your robe off your shoulders.

You dig your teeth into the plush of your lip as you question, “Like that?” more playful, a giggle sounding through your mouth as you purr directly into the camera.

You can hear him hum his approval, placing the mugs down in the sink before turning around to watch you get in position— His footsteps grow closer as he heads into the living room, the camera now following his footsteps to stand by your side as he admires your form.

“You’ a good ass girl.”

Maybe it’s the sugar rush—but your toes point as you sit further on your knees, coming closer to him as you run your tongue over your lips, “I like that. Say that again,” you giggle sultrily.

His fingers move forward to slide against the sides of your neck, his thumbs digging slightly along the bone as he tugs you closer, face stopping just before your own, eyes flickering along your lips.

“You a good ass girl,” His voice is raspy with his words this time, his lips grazing yours.

That’s all you needed.

He’s putting you in different positions as he stretches you, your body relaxing in each way your limbs fold. You’re now flat on your stomach, your back arching, a huff passing your lips as he holds your lower body up by his hands, thumbs digging into your back.

His words were heavy, “How’ you doin’?”

Your lips part the sound of a deep exhale, a soft “Good,” passing your lips as you feel his fingers trail along your spine. His hands were strong, large, long—talented.

“You lyin’?” he mumbles, “Or I’m that good for you?”

Another giggle—but it’s more shy this time.

“You smell so sweet, Mama.”

You sigh when you feel him lower your pelvic back down to meet the table, taking your ankles as he folds them, allowing the balls of your feet to meet with the back of your thighs. The warmth of the oil on your body makes you tingle, and every touch keeps you shivering at this point.

His hands were now slow, his touches a mixture of pressure from his fingertips and the strength of his palms—it had your eyes flickering shut, head lowering a bit more as you found your hands gripping the table.

“Don’t tense up,” he warns, “You got it.”

It felt heavier than it looked from pictures—his tip felt weighted, the dark pink of it flushing against your puffy folds, slapping against your pussy.

You suck in a breath.

A long lick along your back—your jaw kisses the material of the table as you tug your bottom lip again. He’s groaning, “Keep yo’ back like that,” another lick.

Onyankopon’s fingers are still folding the balls of your feet as you lay on your stomach—but it’s a distraction—a new pressure overwhelms your lower body, it has your mouth slightly drop, unexpected of his tip stretching your folds open. Your back fully arches, fingers digging into the table as you frown, a whirlwind of pleasure and pain throwing you into overdrive. One of your hands goes to immediately reach back, a whimper dropping from your lips as you feel Onyankopon gently trap your arm behind your back.

“You got a pretty ass back, baby. You know that?”

You know the question is another distraction, Onyankopon reaching for the back of your neck, beginning to leave the gentlest kisses there. You��re still lost within the feeling, your lips releasing a pant as you then tremble a soft whine, “Ohmygod…Ony…”

Your free hand finds a hold of him as he’s close, holding him by the side of his ear from below. Your eyes roll.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, his voice raspy, “That’s it.”

His head was in the crook of your neck, kissing in an almost slow, lazy way, yet there was a ferocity to them.

“Good girl,” he hums, hands moving lower along your neck, “Yo’ shit opening up for me. I can feel her.”

“N—Onyankopon…”

His nose nudges along your ear, his whisper deep, “Let it out.”

Your pussy gushes out air, making the loudest sound each time he slowly fucks himself back into you. It’s like he wants you to listen.

“Ohshit,” your voice warns, “Shit,” you tremble. You could feel every. Single. Thing.

“Hold my hands.”

When you find his hands, your arms are now pulled behind yourself, chest inches above the table. Your eyes flicker towards the camera—it makes your body arch more for him, a pleasured pout pulling at your lips as you murmur to yourself, “U—Uhn…”

“You sound pretty, Mama.”

Onyankopon’s voice—it makes your brain so jumbled, so messy, that you can’t find the words to respond.

“You want me to stay like this? This shit deep enough for you?”

“S—stay just like this…”

Your hips slowly begin to move, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you allow him to use you, dropping you up and down onto his abdomen from behind. The specific angle hits your spot, one that you could only reach while filming yourself. But you felt it now, and you can feel your eyes watering with how good it feels.

“Ughn,” you whine louder, “Shit.”

His hands are strong, and they’re now holding you by your hair, pulling back—it makes you frown a little more, “Your balls feel so good hittin’ my pussy, baby.”

It’s hard to talk with him moving behind you, his hips snapping to the bounce of your ass, a soft clap that sounds in the room.

He grunts, “You’ a nasty ass bitch— pussy talkin’ to a nigga. They’ hittin’ yo’ clit, huh?”

“Yeah,” you whine in return.

“Mmh,” he softly groans, “Look at that pussy. She’ so pretty and creamy.”

The soft clap of your skin resounds as he slows himself, almost giving you a deeper, more intense wave of strokes. You gasp, reaching for the side of his hip, pulling him in as you whimper, “Right there…”

“This yo’ world, Mama. You want me to stay right here?” he keeps himself angled, hitting exactly where you leaned him towards.

You give him a breathless squeal, “Yes, baby.”

“You been waitin’ all day to feel me, huh?” he asks, the corner of his lips moving in a teasing grin. He knew.

Your nod is thoughtless. Your eyes are watery, and you’re almost in a state of confusion on how your body responds in a way it never has.

Your voice tells him, “Itfeelssoogood,” whiney as ever.

“C’mere,” he mumbles, turning your face behind, his lips smacking against yours.

He lets out a small grunt, “This some good muhfuckin’ pussy.”

With every smack of his lips that meets yours, he’s sucking at the same time, and when your mouth pulls for air, it stays directly against his, trembling against it, “Ohhhmygod, Ony. Ony…”

You don’t realize—but you’re cumming again through his movements, your brain muddled as your eyes roll, teeth sinking into your lip as you moan, drenching his abdomen with that pretty cream he’d been looking for.

“Yeah,” his grunt is smug, “That’s it, girl. You got it.”

But it didn’t stop there.

He was gonna be the death of you. You knew that, because you’d been more turned on then you’d ever been before. So much that Onyankopon was now beneath you, back flat along the table as you loomed above him. The camera had the perfect angle—your ass jiggles above him, feet flat against the sides of his thighs as you’re bouncing atop of dick.

Your eyes roll, skin clapping together—you’re moaning, eyes lowering over your shoulder to stare into camera, “Oh my god.”

He’s watching you with a glare. The camera could only hear his voice as he asked, “You know who’s dick you’ takin’ right now?”

You were lost.

“Onyankopon, Ony,” you stutter, the words breaking between your breath, the back of your thighs slapping with his. Your cream is beginning to create strings between the flesh of your thighs, splattering down with your movements.

He gives a smirk, “Good fuckin’ job, baby.”

You’re breathless, low whimpers as your curls fall along your face.

“Keep that ass bouncin’. Shit lookin’ pretty on my dick.”

A smack from his palm, like an added punctuation.

You listen.

You press your palms along his chest, your eyes still to the camera to watch yourself from behind—You’re dropping, riding, every exhale breathily pushing out another moan in return.

“You like how you look, huh?”

You found yourself slowly nodding your head, grinding as you came down. Your voice is a whimpering mess,“You’re so big, Daddy. Fuck.”

“My shit curvin’ inside you, I know. Keep goin’,” the sound of your skin meeting his is loud, as if it were a melody. A piece of music his other hand keeps composing.

You knew you were gone—Your head dropping, your eyes lowering in a pleasured face. Your thighs tremble as you’re squirting for a second time, but you keep going, your eyes rolling as your thighs collide down to his hips— the squelch, squelch, squelch, deafening in your ears.

You look directly into the camera, watching as you drown his pelvic area, his dick shining into the lens—your eyes roll heavily as your head falls back, “Oooooohshiiittt.”

“Fuck, girl.”

He groans as his breath starts to hiss, “Just like that. Yo’ pussy so—“

You hear him moan, so softly it’s nearly inaudible, as if he wasn’t used to doing that on video. You watch as his eyes narrow at you from below, smacking your ass assertively. To gain his control back.

And he does—Onyankopon now stands inches away from the table, your legs held up by his arms as he’s carrying you, lifting you up, dropping you back down onto his dick. Your arms wrap around his shoulders, pouting as your eyes roll at his deep strokes he forces onto you.

You’re practically being tugged down onto his dick, he’s strong. The strength of him makes your brain fuzzier, your mind nearly gone. You’re groaning, a slurping sound creating as his tongue curls with yours in a hungry kiss.

”You got another one in you?”

You mewl in response— shaking your head, your brain nearly short circuits at this point.

“You can.”

He lays you back against the table, his body hovering atop of yours now—he’s rotating his hips, mouth sucking the skin of your neck that has your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“Mmh,” he softly grunts, his eyes flickering up to the camera as his expression is a smirk.

“Yeah,” he mumbles, the word soft, yet commanding with every roll he gives, “That’s my baby.”

Your voice squeaks, “Ony.”

“You’ so shy,“ he huffs, pressing a kiss to the inside of your mouth, your legs tightening around his hips, “Yo’ pussy keep on talkin’ to me. She tellin’ me sum’.”

Your lips part open as you reach down for the side of his thigh, gripping the flesh as you rock him in the angle you feel the most pleasure.

You tremble, “Don’t stop…”

His hand was on the table, steadying himself against it before his head leans against yours, “Yeah?” he repeats, his voice a deep groan, “You need my shit in yo’ stomach?”

“Please,” you whimper, your nails dragging into the skin of his lower back, tugging his body towards your own.

He goes deeper, and the change had you grunting. Your mouth is parted, your ankles meeting at the sides of his head, the sight of this position in the camera's eye makes it all the more erotic—you shout a moan.

He let it out—a deep sound of another snarl, pushing in you even deeper, hands digging into the back of your hair as he held you steady. His lips met yours in a kiss that was hot, heavy—You could feel the way he sucked at your tongue, the wet sound of your lips echoing in the room.

You sob, “I’m gonna cum, Ony. Don’t move. I need you.”

“This the best shit I ever had,” he admits, grunting out every word, “Imma’ kill a nigga ‘bout this shit. You ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

Your eyes widen a bit, but you’re so distracted from the waves of pleasure that rushes across your entire body, you can’t respond properly. Onyankopon groans in your ear, and you clasp him closer, your entire body shaking as you both moan against each other's lips.

You whimper, “You don’t mean that.”

His eyes flicker up to yours. Onyankopon’s fingers find the back of your neck, tugging you closer for him to leave a kiss along your shoulder, “I swear on my momma, you ain’t. You mine now,” he mumbles.

You’re gasping in his ear.

“You was a problem from the moment I seen you—but now?”

He’s fucking you with every word.

“Imma’ need this shit all the muhfuckin’ time. Imma’ need you.”

That made you weaken.

“I’m’ cumming.”

You hold him.

“Ony, you got me.”

“I know.”

It’s like that music from earlier— a symphony, the camera nearly shaking at how hard he’s fucking you, how deep he’s fucking you. You sob—you’re squirting for a final time, your body shaking so much that you had to find his arm to ground you. The warmth of his cum mixtures within your folds, the sight pretty, Onyankopon pulling his dick out as he smacks it along the creamy mess you’ve both made.

And as you look at each other, lips inches apart, a thrum of emotions sitting between two strangers, it happens—you both laugh.

And that’s when he asks—

“So, how Tokyo soundin’?”

#onyankopon x black y/n #ony x black reader #onyankopon fluff #onyankopon x black reader smut #onyankopon x you #ony smut #onyakapon #onyankapon #onyankopon x reader #aot onyankopon #aot x black reader #aot oneshots #aot smut #aot fanfiction #aot

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rottingghosty · 4 months ago

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The Ghostling of Space | DC X DP

i’m working on the next part of the realms pr au trust me i am but i got this tiktok my fyp and suddenly i’m thinking of a NEW au for dc x dp. video is at the end i came up with this at 2am (like usual) so there will be errors

prompt: Danny’s the Ancient of Space, he spends most of his time floating around space because he’s on a vacation by his council to enjoy his life as a baby ghostling and a young prince since he’s still too young to rule so he has someone as a regent (not sure who yet). So he’s just going around, passing various planets and solar system. He’s essentially swimming around because he looks more like a mer than a human.

Danny should’ve realized that someone was going to notice him at some point, he didn’t realize it’d be a few years after Clockwork had spat him out in this universe. He’d been enjoying his time witnessing the birth of stars, of nebulas being born and the death of a solar system. The universe he was in made his core thrum with life, he’s gotten to feed it heavily that it puts his main obsession on the back burner. He skims his finger tips through the stardust of a star that had been born, molding and shaping it until it joins its brethren to form a constellation for the planet he was curled around.

The planet had no life yet but he knew that would change one day, he could feel its core yawning and turning. It’d get its push once Life had the opportunity to focus on it and breathe into the core. He was balance, his essence seeping into the planet’s core as he does his part of aiding the formation of a baby solar system. His body twists as he swims languidly through the vaccum as he does flips and turns. Moving through space with his newly formed tail felt like he was in the ocean, the movement so naturally and freeing.

It’d been when he finally drifted away from it and towards the Earth that was so similar to his back in his own universe he could never return that someone picked up his presence.

It’d been when he finally shrunk from his rather large size to something relatively smaller as he curled around a moon near Uranus. Away from any prying eyes as he allows himself to drift off into sleep.

It’d take someone to had been looking at one of Uranus’ moons to realize that something was curled around one, something large and green.

Captain Marvel could only stare in awe at the figure that curled around one of the moon’s of Uranus. The figure was beautiful, pale green skin that seemed to glow before dimming and brightening again. They seemed eel like if the way they seemed to move their body to curl around the moon of Titania. Where legs would have started, instead goes into an void of darkness, with a green glow that was a sickeningly shade of bright green that dimmed and brightened.

It was beautiful as it was eerie. The glow seemed to start from the hips and continued down its sides and tail, the fins flaring every time the creature seemed to breathe. A fin from at the top of the spine and continued down the entire back until it reached a stop before the end of its tail.

Captain Marvel knew that the other members in the Justice League were in awe just as he is, something about this being screamed otherworldly. It screamed magic and it made him very being thrum with energy he’s never felt before. He wanted to say something, to speak about what would be the best course of action to take to see if this being was a friendly or a hostile. Before he could even say a word, Constantine released a curse.

“Why is there a bloody baby ghost of the Infinite Realms here?”

TLDR: danny is very much a baby ghost prince living his life watching everything in space and making new things. he’s basically the equivalent of a baby god playing toys (planets and solar systems) and has no idea that he’s giving the JL and JLD a heart attack because oh my god that’s a baby ghost. but also OH MY GOD THAT’S THE BABY GHOST OF THE HIGH KING. still unsure who takes on the role for danny, pandora? cw? frostbite? a random oc? i know people use jazz as a regent but shes like a teen and deserves to live her life without having to deal with ghostly duties.

now danny’s got these people wanting to care for him cause he’s just out in the open in space and they don’t want the high king to get upset if their son is hurt.

(clockwork finds it very funny because if anything, they have to worry about upsetting anyone who danny deems as his)

#dc x dp #dc x dp au #dc x dp prompt #dc x dp crossover #dc comics #dc universe #dcu #danny fenton #danny phantom #ancient of space danny #baby ghost danny #the siren of space au #ghost prince danny #infinite realms #mer danny phantom(?)#justice league dark #justice league #captain marvel #john constantine

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paperbackribs · 2 months ago

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What i f I told Tommy to fuck off?

"Hey," Steve's head lolls onto Eddie's lap with a thump, "what do you think if I told Tommy to fuck off?"

Eddie thinks he might dance a jig, take a shot of tequila, and then blow Steve if he'd let him near him. But that's not in the cards. They've been roommates for four years now, the two years they'd lived in and out of the Harrington House and the Munson Trailer before then notwithstanding.

"I think that you're full of shit," Eddie retorts, ignoring the warmth of Steve's head in his lap. Ignoring how easily his stupid head turns to lustful images of shoving his palm against Steve's cheeks and turning him face-down to use his mouth in a way that Eddie can only dream of on the most holy of nights.

"No, really," Steve insists, hazel eyes earnest and staring up at Eddie. "You keep telling me that I'm worth more--"

"More than a bastard that fucks everthing that walks and then comes begging back to you? Yeah, sure. I have some standards."

Steve scowls up at him, eyes squinted, "I have standards."

Eddie stares right back, unwilling to back down, "Sure you do, sweetheart." He sinks enough scorn into the last word to push Steve away but Steve continues to squint back. He stares at Eddie with such unwavering certitude that it's Eddie who wavers.

"Robin told me something," Steve says calmly. Head still in Eddie's goddamn lap.

Eddie hums, looking away from the intent gaze. Ignoring it. Ignoring every moment he thought was more over the past six years.

"She told me that I'm not imagining things. That I'm not stupid--"

Eddie interrupts, exasperated after all this time that Steve still thinks so low of himself, "Of course you're not stupid. You have to stop listening to Tommy - he's full of shit and talks you down so that he's bigger. But you're bigger, Steve. You're a whole shitting statue looming above the teeny tiny human he pretends that he is. Just forget him for Christ's sake."

"Not that you will," Eddie mutters even as he's annoyed that he had spoken so candidly.

"So you're saying that I should trust my instincts?" Steve asks, eyes burning and frame oddly taut against Eddie's legs. The television flickers in the background, casting blue shadows against the planes of Steve's face and all Eddie can hopelessly think is how desperately he wants to lick the sharp lines of it.

Before he can sink into the moroseness of it all, Steve scrambles up and Eddie grunts at the unexpected force as elbows poke at sensitive parts only for Steve's sweet, sincere face to be hovering over his.

Eddie stares up, lacking understanding and any idea of what to do next. The beautiful eyes staring back down at him are captivating, the pretty marks against the canvas of his skin enthralling and, in that very moment, Eddie's head is so blank that he can't be counted on to make a decision or recall one past decisive thought.

"Kiss me," Steve demands and an arrow pierces Eddie's chest so cleanly that he thinks he'll never breathe easily again.

"What?" he wheezes, but Steve simply nods resolutely.

"Kiss me if you feel anything for me."

Steve's jaw is clenched, Eddie can see, in the way he does when vulnerable and sad. It makes something in Eddie's gut tighten in sympathy. Because all he has wanted for years is for Steve to kiss him. To want to kiss him. But here Steve is, looking for all the world like he expects Eddie to push him away.

He'd never.

Palm raising shakily, Eddie cups Steve's jaw, bringing their lips together in a union that is soft and unsure.

Just as shakily, Steve exhales, brow furrowed and lips pursing in distress. "That's it?" he sighs heavily, sadly. Looking away and nodding to himself as if he understands a terrible truth, "I get it. And I'm sorry, I shouldn't have forced you to--"

Consumed by a sudden fierceness, Eddie surges forward, taking Steve's beautiful face in his hands and his lips in a passionate fusion. Their lips merge in a slick embrace while breaths combine, becoming one.

Drawing back with a wet schlick, a translucent ribbon connects their mouths before snapping away. Steve looks as dazed as Eddie, the both of them reminiscent of cartoon characters whacked over the head with rolling pins.

"I should..." Steve stutters.

The whole of Eddie's body softens, sure in that this is the moment. This is his moment and it's Steve's too. It's their moment to make a future worthwhile.

"You should tell Tommy to fuck off," Eddie says, hoping against all hope that Steve will meet him beat for beat.

Steve licks his lips, a smirk spreading across his delectable face, "Because you feel something for me."

Confidence fills Eddie and he smirks right back, "Because I feel everything, sweetheart." Steve's face brightens as Eddie repeats, "Everything."

#steddie #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #paperbackribs writing

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mmegwrld · 3 months ago

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ꪆৎ ೃ࿔* INTO YOU + jeon jungkook

you get assigned to tutor the meanest guy you’ve ever met, jeon jungkook. he pushes away, not accepting your help. until he finally gives in.

word count : 3.7k

genre : angst! happy ending :-)

warnings : guys i’m sorry it’s so angsty AGAIN WTF, hurt.. comfort, mean boy jk + sweetheart reader! crying,, JK IS AN ASSHOLE!! LIKE THE WHOLEEEE TIME!! i was listening to just one day the whole time while writing so 💪 can you guys tell i like ariana by the titles 😭😭

a/n : guys IK… IM KIND OF LATE ON MY UPLOADING OOPPSSSS!! i lowkey hate this but i have no other ideas in mind 🏋🏽‍♀️💤💐🌞 and THIS IS NOT PROOFREAD!!

masterlist

you walk into professor kim’s lecture room, smiling at him as you walk up, “good afternoon, miss (last name). i would like you to tutor one of your classmates,” he says.

you nod, “who?” professor kim looks behind you, “jeon jungkook, you’ll be getting tutored with (name), twice a week. no exceptions,” his voice booms. you turn around, seeing a boy in the seat with his legs up and hood up. like he owned the place.

he doesn’t even look up before muttering a small, “cool.” you blink, “we can meet at the library tomorrow!” you say sweetly. jungkook looks up at you, “okay.”

“we should exchange numbers! just in case you need to skip one,” you whisper the last part. jungkook shrugs, “okay. give me your phone,” he puts out his hand. you unlock your phone and hand it to him.

about two seconds later, he hands the phone back. he looks back at his phone, “don’t waste your time,” he mutters. you tilt your head, “what?” you ask, unsure if you heard him correctly. jungkook glances to you, “i’m not showing up to that. so, don’t waste your time.”

he was serious. it was tuesday afternoon, 4:15pm and an empty library table. you checked the clock at 3. than 3:30. than 4. you sigh no sign of jungkook. this was your third session, the second one he missed. he’s only went to the first one so far, which he showed up 30 minutes late too, didn’t bring his books and spent the entire time on his phone.

just like usual, you were patient. you texted him after the missed session.

hey, missed you today! :-) hope everything’s good. wanna reschedule again? read.

you sigh and get up, packing your books. you walk out of the library.

the next day, you wait for him outside of his classroom. you thought you were doing right by seeing if anything is wrong with him.

the hallways buzz with voices and backpacks zipping. you look down at your shoes as jungkook walks out. your eyes follow him, “jungkook!”

he doesn’t spot walking, he doesn’t even look at you. you catch up to his pace, “hey! you okay? we need to talk,” you smile up at him.

he continues to walk, “no we don’t,” he mutters. you pout and sigh softly, “you’ve missed almost every session, i’ve texted you and—“ jungkook looks at you finally with a dry laugh.

“yeah, i seen. real persistent, aren’t you?” he asks, like a mean boy. you blink again, “is that supposed to be funny?” jungkook stops walking, turning to you fully now.

“look. you don’t need to play your little sweet girl act with me. i’m not some charity case you get extra credit for helping,” he says. you face fell, like truly. you shake your head, “no! no! i didn’t mean it like that. that’s not what this is about.”

“than what is it?” he snaps. you stare up at him with a small frown, “you don’t even know me. you’re wasting your time chasing after somebody who doesn’t want to be fixed.”

you look around, “it-it’s just tutoring sessions.. i didn’t— jungkook—“ you take a deep breath, looking down at your twisted hands. “i never said you needed fixing, i’m just trying to help you with your grade.”

“yeah? than why are you bothering me so much about it?” his voice lowers. you stay silent as he scoffs and walks away. you stare at him.

what? why is he so mad? it’s only tutoring sessions.

jungkook shakes his head as he walks away from you. who the fuck do you think you are? the perfect sweet girl of your grade?

jimin catches up with jungkook, staring at him with raised brows. jungkook looks at him, “what?” jimin sighs, “you don’t have to be so mean to (name). you’re such an asshole sometimes.”

jungkook pauses, irritated already, “what are you talking about?” jimin shrugs, “(name). you’re being mean to her… it’s just tutoring sessions.”

“i’m not some charity case so she can stick up to mr kim. she keeps texting me like i need help… like i’m some type of project,” he shakes his head.

“she’s just trying to help you with school work! why do you hate her so much? she’s being nice to you,” jimin scoffs. jungkook clenches his jaw, “i don’t need her pity, jimin.”

“it’s not pity, it’s being a selfless person. you think your grades are gonna go up if you’re being a jerk to your tutor?” jimin adds. jungkook stays quiet, “whatever…” he mumbles.

can’t come today, helping my mom.

jungkook said he would show up. he told you to meet at the library at 5. you groan, feeling truly irritated for the first time in ages. you shove your stuff into your bag again. you sigh deeply as you walk out of the library.

you take a shortcut to your dorm, walking past the cafe. you turn your head, freezing. you see jungkook with a girl. a pretty girl, sitting across from him laughing.

he didn’t see you, but you saw everything. the way he was smiling at her, that stupid fucking sideways smile. leaning in whenever she said something. he was enjoying himself. he didn’t look cold, detached, the jungkook who speaks to you.

your heart twists, you now felt defeated.

you shake your head, quickly walking to your dorm. helping his mom? are you serious?

the week after, you sat in the library. it wasn’t a day to tutor jungkook so you were alone. you write down your essay, listening to old ariana grande as you puff out your hot cheeks.

you feel a presence in front of you. you glance up seeing jungkook. you don’t say anything, still writing your essay. he huffs, “hey.”

you hum, “hi.” he furrows his brows, “so? it’s our day—“

“it’s not actually. so you can leave if you want to,” you cut him off. jungkook scoffs, like always. “so the one day i show up with my shit you don’t wanna teach me?”

you slam the pencil, “oh.. i’m sorry— you told me you were busy helping your mom,” you said. he shakes his head, “what? i was.” you fake smile, “oh really? because i saw you… with that girl.”

the guilt hit him like a punch to the gut. he opens his mouth, “and?”

“and? you told me… you couldn’t come to the session. because of your mom.” you say again.

“why did you lie to me? why would you even agree with professor kim to get a tutor?” you stare at him. he stares back, “i don’t owe you an explanation, (name). you’re not my girlfriend. i don’t have to tell you anything,” he shrugs.

you narrow your eyes, “you’re such a fucking asshole, do you know that? why are you so fucking mean to me?! i have done nothing but be nice to you. i don’t even fucking talk to you.”

“don’t act like you’re an innocent victim.”

“i’m not acting like a victim, jungkook. you keep blowing me off, keep pushing me around—“

“you think you’re special?” he leans closer to you. your head spins, “i told you not to waste your time. you wanna know why i hate you (name)? you’re such an angel and it makes me want to throw up. i hate the way you make me feel vulnerable, small— less than you. you have always— always tried to help me. for what?”

you stare at him with sad furrowed brows, your lip quivering a bit. he continues to talk, “every time you try to help me, it reminds me how i can’t be. i will never be good for anybody and the one time i found somebody— you— somebody to fucking help me… i don’t want them near me.”

“i don’t want you to speak to me ever again. i don’t want your fucking tutor sessions— i don’t want your fucking help with anything! seeing you try so hard makes me so fucking mad. you make me feel pitied and that pisses me off more than anything.”

you watch him walk away, your hands trembling. is that how you made people felt? you didn’t mean to.

your intentions are good, you know that. why couldn’t he just— a choked sob comes out your throat. you thank God that you’re in the back of the library so nobody can see you crying.

you fidget with your nails as tears spill down your eyes. you grab your stuff and walk out the library.

it’s been weeks since you and jungkook have last spoke and it was horrible. you stopped talking much, you didn’t want others to be a burden. what if somebody really does feel like that?

it was halloween night, almost midnight when your phone rang. unknown number? you groan softly.

“hello?” you say softly. it was silent for a moment. a slurred voice spoke, “(name)? angel?”

your chest tightens, “jungkook?” you ask. you felt your head start to hurt, “you picked up.”

you heard music, talking, wind. he was at the party, obviously. you sigh, “didn’t think you would…” he slurs. you stay quiet before speaking up again, “are you okay?”

he didn’t answer instead he laughs softly— sad, kind of bitter. “you’ve always… i hate how fucking sweet you are. i don’t hate it. i love your sweetness. i love the way you say my name. i love the way you talk, laugh.”

you sit on your bed, staring at your covers. you were shocked… a little mad, sad.

“jung—“

“you’re different like why did you pick up? i don’t know what your deal is like i’m a dick to you but you pick up my drunk calls! i blow you off and act like a dick. but you’re so nice to me, everytime.”

you bite the inside of your cheek, “i know you’re not mean though,” you mumble softly. there was another pause, “that’s what scares me.”

you stand by your window, looking at the moon, “what scares you?” “you see me while i can’t even see myself,” his voice slows down, still slurred but more serious.

“and i don’t know how to talk to you. you’re so soft and light. i dunno how to be around that,” he frowns to himself. your heart cracks open a little, “you don’t have to be anything around me.”

“i think about you… all the time. i cannot believe i talked to you like that. i’m such an asshole… i made you fucking cry,” he shakes his head.

“you’re drunk,” you say gently. “doesn’t make it less true.”

you grab your hoodie, “where are you?”

“i’m at blake’s party. i left it so im actually on some bench in the quad. i hated it… everybody’s so fake… besides jimin… jin… suga… hobi… tae… joon… and you. i don’t wanna be with them though— i wanna be around you.”

you sigh, “im coming.”

you hug your hoodie tight as you walk around the quad. and then— there he was. slumped on a bench under a glow of the streetlight, head tilted, hoodie slipping off. his legs were stretched out, tapping his food against the pavement like he was trying to stay awake.

you walk up, “jungkook?” you say quietly. his head lolls to the side. his eyes were glassy, unfocused. but when they landed on you, they had a flash of something. shame. surprise. relief.

“you actually came,” he said, like it shocked him more then the cold air. you sit next to him, “why wouldn’t i?” his eyes follow your figure. he stares at you like you aren’t real.

“let’s go back, okay?” you help him up. he doesn’t argue, finally. he leans against you, the smell of alcohol clinging onto him. as you two walk to your dorm, he mumbles something you almost didn’t understand.

“i don’t get you,” his heavy slurred words. “you’re not like… everybody.”

you lay him on the bed. you make a face. his outside clothes on the bed. you sigh as you make your way to the couch.

the morning after, jungkook woke up in a… girl’s room?! oh hell no— did he fuck somebody? you walk in, your hoodie hanging right above your levi jeans.

you glance at him, “morning,” you smile softly. he stares at you, “what happened?” he croaks. you give him a bottle of water and some advil. you sit on the bed, “you called me. drunk… at midnight.”

he blinks, “right. sorry.”

you watch his expression for a second. he was finally more soft. “you said some stuff… and it makes me feel a certain way now.”

he looks at you, “i know.. im sorry.”

you bite your tongue, “i have class. text me again if you wanna try again. with tutoring.”

you grab your keys and began to walk out. jungkook calls out for you.

you turn around, “hm?” “thank you for picking up..” he says softly. you smile, “anytime.”

it’s been three days since the drunk call. he hasn’t texted… so you didn’t either. it was the friday before spring break and you walk into the library to study for a exam. you walk to your usual table, seeing him. hoodie on. headphones off. a pen between his fingers, flipping it anxiously.

you froze in the aisle, just looking at him. he didn’t notice you at first— his eyes were hooked on some drawing. than he looks up.

“hey,” he says quietly. you sat down, “you’re here?” he nods, “i— i figured i can try today.” you didn’t reply, silence filled the conversation.

you hum, “kay.”

silence again.

he broke it, “i remember what i said that night.” he looks at you, those fucking boba eyes. your heart thumps, “okay.” he sighs.

he stares at you, like really. no irritation, pushing… just scared. he shakes his head, “i didn’t mean to dump that all on you.. i was so drunk. but not wrong.” you stay still, giving him time to say what he needs to.

“you’re right by the way,” he adds. “i do care but i don’t know how to without ruining it.” you exhale, the tension loosening in your chest, “you don’t have to figure it all out at once.”

he swallows hard, “do.. is it too late?”

“for what?”

“for a redo.”

your voice comes out soft, “no.. but if you wanna get tutored. show up and show up for real.” jungkook nods slowly, “i will. i just don’t know how to accept help like that.”

“we’ll figure it out,” you reply. he nods again, “i wanna take you on a date. tomorrow.” he blurts out. you wide your eyes, “oh! will you show up?” you laugh softly. he nods with a sideways smile, “i’ll be there.”

“okay. date tomorrow it is than.”

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infinite-orangepeel · 25 days ago

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steve & eddie hate sex in which they continue to try to piss each other off by spitefully leaving as many obvious marks as possible.

eddie sinks his teeth into the fleshiest parts of steve’s muscled thighs—reveling in the idea that he’ll have no way to hide those pretty bruises under his tiny basketball shorts at practice. reveling even more in the way steve gorgeously writhes & gasps each time he bites down.

in retaliation, steve sucks as many hickeys as he can right beneath eddie’s ears, below his chin, & on the sides of his neck until it looks like someone’s painted his pale skin with a palette of overripe berries.

eddie groans beneath steve—twisting & turning at the beautiful ache, “fuck you, harrington. i’m not wearing a scarf in the middle of the goddamn summer. i’m gonna start telling people it was you—i’m not fucking around anymore. i’m not hiding.”

eddie figures it would be steve’s worst nightmare to have people find out he’s been falling into bed with the town freak night after night. what if they all thought steve wanted eddie for real—that this wasn’t just something they did to deal with how fucking detestable they find each other? what if they thought steve actually had real feelings for him?

“tell them,” steve yanks eddie’s hair—which feels all too many types of good (though, he’d never admit that), “i dare you,” he tugs on his earlobe with his teeth—bitchy, as usual, “see what happens.”

eddie’s not expecting this response.

he thought steve would cuss him out or threaten him with crueler words.

this strays from their routine. causes eddie to question if he understands the true nature of what’s really going on here—in this bed, in this world they’ve created for themselves.

unsure of what to do, he flips steve over—bites a path down his chest, meanly snapping the waistband of his underwear when he gets there so the skin shines red, “fine—i’m gonna tell them you’re obsessed with me,” he sinks his teeth into the spot where steve’s hip meets his side, “i’m gonna tell them you won’t stop begging me to make you mine. i’m gonna tell them you love me. how’s that, harrington?”

steve stops what he’s doing immediately.

the only sound left in the room is the record spinning on eddie’s nightstand & the shallow breaths shared between them.

“go ahead,” steve’s eyes are glistening, “i want you to.”

eddie swallows, his face hot, his limbs trembling, the marks on steve’s body looking more & more like a secret language only the two of them could ever possibly understand.

eddie cautiously kisses steve on the corner of his mouth, whispering, “you should know better than to tempt me with something like that,” he pins his wrists down—gently stroking the place where he can feel steve’s pulse, “you sure? i might just ruin your perfect little reputation.”

steve leans up to suck at eddie’s collar bone until it turns a nice raspberry shade—proof of something greater than the both of them, “you’ve already ruined me,” he gestures to the marks on his thighs, his chest, his abdomen, “do you think i’d really let you do all this if i was worried about my reputation?”

the next day, they show up hand in hand at school & no one can quite figure out what transpired—seemingly overnight—between these two sworn enemies, but they figure the multitude of hickeys & bite marks peeking out from under their clothes might have a little something to do with it.

#i’ve missed writing them so much #just happy to be here #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #stranger things #eddie x steve #steddie fic #steddie fanfiction #steddie blurb #steddie headcanon #steve/eddie #eddie/steve

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harrysfolklore · 9 months ago

Note

can we have a little honorary wag blurb where she’s freaking out about meeting charles’s entire friend group but when she does , she gets along with them really well and baby chiara ADORES her 🥹

thank you for sending this request, i really missed writing about these babiesss 🥺🥺 i hope you like thisss

READ THE HONORARY WAG HERE

A few weeks had passed since Kika and Pierre’s wedding, and life had settled into a pleasant routine for you and Charles. It was a lazy Sunday afternoon, and you were sprawled on the couch in Charles’ living room, a cozy blanket wrapped around you as you watched TV.

Charles was in the kitchen, making coffee. You could hear him humming to himself, a soft, contented sound that made you smile. The past few weeks had been a whirlwind, but you were finally finding your rhythm together, and it felt perfect.

Being his girlfriend felt perfect.

“Do you want anything with your coffee, mon coeur?” Charles called out, his voice carrying into the living room.

“Just some cookies, if we have any,” you replied, stretching out and snuggling deeper into the blanket.

Charles appeared a few minutes later, balancing two mugs of coffee and a plate of cookies. He handed you your mug and placed the plate on the coffee table before sitting down beside you.

“Thanks,” you said, taking a sip of the coffee. It was perfect, just the way you liked it.

Charles smiled and wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. “I could get used to this,” he said, his voice soft and full of warmth.

You leaned into him, feeling a sense of contentment. “Me too. It’s nice to have some time to just relax and be together.”

He kissed the top of your head, his lips lingering for a moment. “So, I've bee thinking."

You turned to look at him, curiosity piqued by his tone. "Oh? About what?"

Charles took a sip of his coffee before continuing, "Well, we've been together for almost a month now, and things have been going really well…"

"They have," you agreed, smiling up at him.

"And I was thinking," he continued, his fingers absently playing with a strand of your hair, "maybe it's time for you to meet my friends. My whole friend group, I mean."

You felt a small flutter of nervousness in your stomach. You'd met some of Charles' friends in passing, of course, but the idea of meeting his entire friend group felt significant.

"Your whole friend group?" you repeated, trying to keep your voice casual.

Charles nodded, his eyes searching your face. "Yeah. Joris, who you've already met a few times, Riccardo and Marta, and a few others. They're really important to me, and… well, you're really important to me too. I'd love for you all to get to know each other better."

You almost melted at his words, his green eyes looking at you with a tenderness that made you regret not looking at them for so long.

It wasn’t just the idea of meeting his friends—it was the way he phrased it, making you feel special, like you were becoming an integral part of his life. But at the same time, your nerves fluttered in your stomach.

“Charles, that sounds… great,” you said, trying to sound confident, but the slight edge in your voice gave you away.

He narrowed his eyes at you, gently setting his coffee cup down on the table. “But?”

“I don’t know. I guess I’m just a little nervous," you sighed, shifting so you could look at him fully, "They’ve known you for so long, and I don’t want to feel like the odd one out, you know? What if I don’t fit in?”

“Mon amour, you’re not an outsider," Charles’ expression softened even more as he reached for your hand, interlocking your fingers with his, "You’re my girlfriend, and that means you’re already part of my world.”

You bit your lip, still feeling a little unsure. It was a lot of pressure—meeting the people who had been with Charles through thick and thin, who knew sides of him that you were still discovering.

“I’m sure they’re great,” you said, leaning into him a little, “but it’s still kind of intimidating. I mean, Riccardo and Marta have a baby. What if I’m awkward around Chiara?”

Charles let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “Chiara’s a baby. All she cares about is who makes her laugh and who gives her food. And knowing you, you’ll have her wrapped around your finger in no time.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at that, imagining a tiny baby giggling in your arms. “You think so?”

“I know so,” Charles replied, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “Look, I get it. Meeting new people, especially people who are important to me, can be overwhelming. But I promise, they’re going to love you. And more importantly, I’ll be there with you the whole time.”

His words calmed the nervous buzzing in your mind, and you found yourself nodding slowly. “Okay. Let’s do it. I’ll meet them.”

Charles’ face lit up with that boyish grin you adored, and he kissed you softly on the lips. “That’s my girl. I’ll talk to them, and we’ll make a plan for next weekend.”

You smiled against his lips before pulling back. “Next weekend, huh? No pressure, right?”

He winked, squeezing your hand, “None at all. Just you, me, and my crazy friends.”

The following weekend came quicker than you expected, and before you knew it, you and Charles were standing outside Riccardo and Marta’s house, your heart beating a little faster than usual. The sounds of laughter and conversation drifted out from the backyard, and you could already hear Chiara’s high-pitched giggles.

“You okay?” Charles squeezed your hand as you stood at the front door.

“Yeah, just…" you took a deep breath, nodding, "You know, trying to remember how to be a functioning human.”

"Mon coeur, it's fine!" Charles gave you a huge grin, "Just think bout the first time you came to a race with Kika and met everyone. You were a natural."

You chuckled at the memory. "Yeah, and from that moment, I thought you disliked me for the longest time."

"Baby, we've talked about this," Charles raised his eyebrows in mock surprise. "I was just... reserved," he said, his tone teasing but with a hint of sincerity.

You nudged him playfully. "You were cold! Barely even smiled at me. I thought, 'Great, Pierre’s friend is grumpy and doesn’t like me at all.’"

"And now, look at me," Charles laughed, pulling you closer, "Head over heels for you. Who would've thought?"

You felt a warmth bloom in your chest at his words. His eyes softened, and before you could respond, he leaned in, brushing his lips against yours in a gentle kiss.

When you finally pulled away, Charles rested his forehead against yours. "I promise, they’ll love you. Just be yourself, like you always are."

You nodded, a small smile on your lips. "Okay, I’m ready."

With that, Charles opened the door, and the two of you stepped inside, the lively sounds of his friends filling the space around you. The air was warm, the atmosphere welcoming, and as soon as you stepped through, Joris waved at you from across the room, and Marta smiled brightly, holding little Chiara.

"Well, well, if it isn't the girl who used to roll her eyes every time Charles spoke," Joris teased, approaching you and pulling you into a friendly hug.

You laugh, feeling some of your nervousness dissipate. "What can I say? He grew on me."

"Like a fungus, I'm sure," Joris winked, earning a playful shove from Charles.

Marta spotted you both and beamed, making her way over with Chiara balanced on her hip. Riccardo followed closely behind her, grinning widely.

"Ah, there he is," Riccardo greeted, pulling Charles into a hug before turning to you with a bright smile. "And this must be YN. It’s so great to finally meet you."

Charles stepped to the side, his hand still holding yours as he made the introductions. "Riccardo, Marta, this is YN, my girlfriend. YN, these are two of my closest friends in the world."

You smiled nervously but warmly, offering your hand to Riccardo, who brushed it aside to pull you into a friendly hug. "We do hugs around here," he said with a wink.

Marta followed suit, hugging you carefully while balancing Chiara in her arms. "It’s so nice to meet you, YN," she said, her smile warm and welcoming. "Charles has told us all about you. It’s about time we finally get to meet the girl who’s got him smiling all the time."

You chuckled nervously, your cheeks flushing a little. "He exaggerates."

"I don’t think so," Charles teased, his arm slipping around your waist again as he beamed at you.

Another one of Charles' friends raised his glass from where he was standing. "And here she is—the woman who tolerates Charles better than any of us."

You laughed at that, feeling some of the tension slip away as everyone welcomed you with open arms. The introductions continued as more of Charles’ friends trickled into the conversation, each one greeting you warmly, making you feel like part of the group in no time. It was clear that Charles’ friends were just as kind and friendly as he had promised.

“I’m so glad you could come," Marta said as she sat down next to you, little Chiara still in her arms.

“Thank you for having me,” you replied warmly, already feeling more at ease with her friendly demeanor.

Baby Chiara’s curious eyes darted toward you. You waved at her with a soft smile, and to your surprise, Chiara giggled, her little hands reaching out toward you.

“She’s been so excited all day,” Marta said with a chuckle, adjusting Chiara on her lap. “I think she knew we were having company. You want to hold her?”

You hesitated for a moment, but before you could even reply, Chiara was practically leaning over to get closer to you. You couldn't help but laugh, your heart melting at the sight of her small, chubby hands reaching out.

“I think she’s made up her mind,” you said, taking Chiara from Marta. The little girl settled in your lap immediately, looking up at you with wide, innocent eyes before giving you a sweet, toothy grin.

Charles, who had been chatting with Riccardo and Joris nearby, turned around just in time to catch the scene. His expression softened as he watched you interact with Chiara, his heart clearly in his eyes as he leaned against the counter, completely mesmerized.

“She loves you already,” Marta said softly, watching the way Chiara kept reaching for your face, fascinated by your hair and earrings.

“She’s adorable,” you said, your voice equally soft as you gently played with the little girl’s hands. Chiara giggled again, her laughter filling the room, and you couldn’t help but beam at her.

Charles crossed the room, his eyes still glued to the two of you. "She’s not the only one," he teased, placing a hand on your shoulder as he bent down to kiss your temple. "She’s got good taste."

"You're such a sap," Joris called out from where he sat, grinning as he popped another cookie into his mouth. "Look at you, all gooey and soft."

“Careful, Joris,” Charles replied, smirking at him. “Don’t make me start telling embarrassing stories about you."

“Oh, I’d love to hear those,” Marta chimed in, clearly enjoying the playful banter.

“Hey, I’m not the one who once locked himself out of the house without pants,” Joris shot back, earning a chorus of laughter from everyone around the room.

Amidst the laughter, Marta leaned closer to you, her voice just above a whisper. “You know,” she said, glancing at Charles, who was still gazing at you and Chiara with that adoring smile, “I’ve never seen him like this. I can tell he’s really happy with you.”

Her words made your heart skip a beat. You glanced up at Charles, feeling a warmth spread through you as you caught his eye. He winked at you, completely oblivious to Marta’s words, but it only made the moment more special.

"Thank you," you replied quietly, feeling a bit shy under her knowing gaze. "That means a lot coming from you."

Marta smiled, patting your hand. "I'm really glad he found someone special. You fit right in."

Before you could respond, Chiara began fussing slightly in your lap, clearly looking for something. Charles noticed immediately and knelt down beside you, offering the small toy she had dropped earlier. As soon as you handed it to her, Chiara calmed down, grabbing the toy and happily gnawing on it.

"I told you she'd love you," Charles grinned as he watched the two of you.

"You're right," you replied with a smile, gently bouncing Chiara in your lap. "She's perfect."

The rest of the evening passed in a blur of laughter and easy conversation. You found yourself quickly settling into the group, enjoying the way everyone seemed so at ease with one another. Joris and Riccardo were relentless in teasing Charles, often making jokes about how smitten he was, while Marta continued to shoot you knowing glances, clearly pleased with how everything was going.

At one point, as the evening wound down, Chiara started to get sleepy. She nestled into your arms, her little fingers curling around your shirt as her eyes fluttered closed.

Charles, who had been watching the whole time, leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head. "You’re amazing with her," he whispered, his voice filled with warmth.

"She’s the sweetest," you whispered back, glancing down at the tiny girl fast asleep in your arms.

Charles’ gaze lingered on you for a moment longer, his heart completely full. He had never imagined that watching you with Chiara would have such an effect on him, but here he was, absolutely melting at the sight.

As the night drew to a close, Riccardo and Marta thanked you both for coming. “Next time, we’ll have to do it at your place, Charles,” Riccardo joked, clapping him on the back.

“Sure, as long as you bring Chiara,” Charles replied with a grin, his arm wrapped securely around your waist as you stood by his side.

Marta gave you a quick hug before you left. "Seriously," she whispered in your ear, "We're really glad you're in his life."

You smiled at her, feeling the warmth and sincerity behind her words. "Me too."

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loveanddeepthroat · 10 months ago

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can i mc reader and sylus where mc ends up in hospital after a mission gone wrong and sylus shows up but she wants him to leave in case someone sees him there

Careless

Pairing - Sylus x f!MC

Summary - You landed yourself in the hospital overnight after a mix up at HQ had you fighting too many Wanderer’s alone. You’re already bummed about being stuck at Akso, so the feeling of dread when Sylus turns up unexpectedly only adds to your unease.

Word Count - 2.3k

Warnings - Set in a hospital. Angst and fluff.

The incessant beeping of medical machinery echoing throughout the ward was getting to your sore head.

Akso Hospital was rammed full of casualties and emergencies, seeing as it was a Friday night. You felt a bit out of place amongst the partygoers and adventurous folk who had taken their fun a little too far.

In your opinion, you didn’t really need to be here. The eggplant coloured bruise on the right side of your forehead definitely looked a lot worse than it felt, but the doctors weren’t buying your claims that you weren’t in any pain.

Likely because you were wincing when you’d said it.

A night under their watch was what the doctor ordered, and it wasn’t up for discussion. You were just relieved that Doctor Zayne was working away for a week. He’d have checked you in indefinitely and scheduled an hour long lecture on why you needed to be more careful.

A mix up at HQ had the system only requesting that you attend a spontaneous Wanderer attack in Linkon Library. Just one had been reported, but seven of the ruthless bastards had accosted you the minute you stepped foot in the evacuated building.

Confident that you could handle them, you didn’t bother calling in for more Hunters. As it turned out, that confidence was misplaced, and the last thing you remembered before blacking out was a loud screeching sound. You had no idea what it was, but it hadn’t been important in your unconscious state.

When you eventually awoke in the hospital, Jenna had been hanging over you, immediately giving you the third degree for continuing alone. You should’ve known that the alert for only your assistance had been a mistake in the system, and you should’ve insisted that someone accompany you no matter what it had said.

She made sure to drill that into your head more than once.

Admittedly, you were glad to see the back of her once she had finally left. Your head was starting to throb with the volume of her voice, and all you wanted was the bliss of being unconscious again.

It was late now, and you were exhausted. Sleep was looking to be impossible tonight, however. There were several other patients on the same ward, all admitted with varying ailments. The injured man opposite you had done nothing but stare coldly from the moment he was wheeled in in a full leg cast.

You tried to speak to him. You offered him a polite smile, which was met with a sneer. Whatever his problem with you was, it was beginning to get on your nerves.

You just wanted to go home.

“Miss,” a softly spoken nurse greeted as she approached your bed. “There’s a visitor here to see you.”

You frowned, wondering if you heard her correctly over the hustle and bustle of the ward. It was well past visiting hours, and you couldn’t think of anyone other than your colleagues who knew that you were even at the hospital.

The man with the broken leg frowned, too. “What? She gets special treatment because she’s a so-called hero? I should get visiting rights, too!”

“Would you like me to let him in?” The nurse asked, ignoring the grumbling patient.

Him. That didn’t exactly narrow things down.

“Uhh,” you faltered, a little unsure. You didn’t want to cause any issues with the other patients. “Are you sure?”

The nurse nodded and smiled, though it looked a bit forced. It almost seemed like she was desperate for you to say yes to your mystery visitor.

“Okay,” you finally agreed.

The look of relief on her face was not lost on you. She quickly hurried away to retrieve whoever came to see you, leaving you to endure the displeasure from the man opposite.

“I used to be a mailman, you know? If it weren’t for me, people wouldn’t have had their mail. Do I get special treatment, though? No, of course not. You Hunters get all the glory and adoration. And I’ll tell you another thing—”

“You’ve told her plenty.”

Prominent footsteps sounded from the doorway, the atmosphere immediately becoming heavy and tense. You almost choked on absolutely nothing at the sight of him.

Sylus.

Your eyes flared, heart hammering against your ribcage like a drum. He couldn’t be here. The risk was far too great.

“I wasn’t talking to you,” the grumpy man sneered back, looking him up and down, “…vampire.”

It was a colourful insult, and one that made your unwelcome companion chuckle. “If you’ll excuse us,” he began, the swirling red vines of his Evol appearing to drag the man’s cubicle curtain to a close at a leisurely pace. “Mailman.”

To your relief, there was no backlash from the irritated patient across the room. Although that did make you wonder if he wasn’t retaliating by his own choice, or if Sylus had silenced him somehow. The latter wouldn’t have surprised you.

“What on earth are you doing here?!” you hissed quietly. “You can’t be here, Sylus.”

Crimson eyes didn’t meet yours, his cold gaze set only on the bandages around your head as he approached your bedside, closing your curtain behind him. He didn’t quite look like himself. His hands were balled into fists at his sides, green and blue veins prominently making an appearance.

“I’ll think twice before taking advice from a woman who was very recently knocked unconscious amidst a 7v1 Wanderer fight,” he rebuked monotonously.

You scoffed. “I’m fine, if that��s why you came. Feel free to go back to—”

“Fine?” His face quickly turned from emotionless to severely unamused as he cut you off sharply. “That’s quite the contradiction, sweetie.”

You raised an eyebrow barely high enough for him to see your questioning expression. The gesture hurt, which wasn’t helping your case. “To what?”

He dragged a plastic chair towards your bed before sitting down, his ankles crossed in front of him. You couldn’t really read his demeanour. He almost seemed cross with you.

“To what I saw from Mephisto,” he responded tightly.

Mephisto.

That explained the screeching you heard before you slipped into unconsciousness. “And what exactly was Mephisto doing there?”

Sylus merely shrugged, offering nothing verbal in response. The lackadaisy gesture did nothing but piss you off. You’ve told him countless times to stop sending Mephisto out to keep tabs on you, and each time it seemed to fall on deaf ears.

He clearly was not pleased with you, but you weren’t stupid. He was here because you had concerned him. Sylus was a busy man, especially at this time of night. He wouldn’t have come just to berate you with words that could’ve been put into a text message.

Not that you knew where your phone was.

The atmosphere between you both fell into silence, only the sounds of medical machinery filling in the lack of conversation. You didn’t really know what to say to him, and he wasn’t typically the type to lose his words. But it was clear to see that he didn’t know what to say, either.

After a long moment, he cleared his throat, his hands flexing in his lap. “I told you those guns of yours were pathetic.”

“There’s nothing wrong with my guns,” you mumbled with a roll of your eyes.

“So it’s a skill issue?”

You glared harshly at him, flinching noticeably as you did. You weren’t sure what was bothering you more, the pain in your head or the mood that Sylus was so clearly in.

His features softened ever so slightly as he recognised your pain. Still, that didn’t stop him from being an asshole. “It’s one or the other, kitten.”

You felt your cheeks heat up. If there was one thing you didn’t want Sylus to think of you as, it was weak. You weren’t sure why you cared so much, but you did.

“I suppose my guns are a little on the outdated side,” you murmured begrudgingly.

He smirked, his hands finally relaxing a little in his lap. The awkward atmosphere was slowly fading, which you were grateful for. You didn’t want to pry into his mind and make things worse again.

You buried your head a little further into the pillow beneath your sore head, letting your eyes fall shut for a moment. Fatigue was starting to settle in your body, almost dragging you into a swift sleep before your chilly hand was captured in a warm embrace.

Your eyes shot open again, finding Sylus out of his seat and leaning over you. His eyes were a bit wider than usual. “Have they checked you for a concussion?”

“Yeah,” you told him gently. The close proximity had you flustered. “I’m a little concussed, but I’m allowed to sleep.”

His brows drew together slightly as he studied you. You’ve both had these strange little moments before, when his mask slips away just enough to see his true feelings.

“I’ll be fine,” you whispered in reassurance. “You should go, Sylus.”

He shook his head, his hand tightening slightly over yours. It looked like an effort, but he managed to smirk at you again. “Trying to get rid of me already?”

Beneath that facade of humour, he was a little bit wounded. You wouldn’t point it out, but you could see it. He was a stubborn bastard who wasn’t going to let you push him away, but he also didn’t like that you were trying to push him away.

It wasn’t as if you wanted him to go. Your relationship with him was…complicated.

Complicated in the sense that you weren’t in a relationship, but he had a habit of establishing a level of intimacy between you both that you weren’t blind to. Good morning and goodnight texts, constant invites to events as his plus one with no other reason than to be beside him, and random gifts left on your doorstep so often that your elderly neighbour recently asked if you were ‘getting some.’

A relationship with him would be very difficult to maintain. You both come from entirely different worlds that just could not merge. No matter how much you desired him, you had to maintain your composure.

“I’m not trying to get rid of you,” you sighed. “I just don’t like how careless you’re being by showing up here. Some people do worry, you know.”

He slowly lowered his loom over you so that his nose was just inches away from yours. You couldn’t help but swallow, feeling his steady breath on your lips as he spoke. It was intimidating and yet so intimate that you didn’t know whether to cower or cut him off with a kiss you never knew you wanted.

“You don’t think I’m worried about you?” he drawled in a rather serious manner.

“That’s not what I—”

“Do you not realise how it looked through Mephisto’s eyes when you were walloped a great distance across a library and crumpled to the floor like a lifeless body.” His teeth were gritted in his mouth, the word ‘body’ coming out tightly like his tongue was rejecting the word. “You’re not the only person who is worried here. Do not brand me incapable of such feelings.”

Your mouth went a little dry, tears threatening to invade your eyes. It wasn’t that you didn’t believe in his worry, and you hadn’t meant for it to come across that way.

“I just don’t want you to risk your freedom for me,” you whispered shakily.

He lifted his hand from where it was holding him up beside your free hand, carefully moving some strands of your hair that had fallen over your bandages.

“I’d risk it all for you.”

He had never said such a thing to you in all the time you’d been acquainted. You knew that he would carry out every need you might have of him. You knew that he would listen to you sit and ramble on and on about anything, never interrupting you. You knew that he cared about you.

But you were still in the dark when it came to the extent of that care.

“Tell me what’s on your mind,” he murmured.

Thankfully, you caught yourself before you were about to shake your sore head. “Just…trying to figure you out.”

A smile slowly spread across his lips. A real smile. It was enough to make your heart flutter, embarrassingly made noticeable by the heart rate monitor you were hooked up to.

“It would require a lot of brainpower to do that, sweetie. Maybe lose the concussion first,” he said in his typically sarcastic tone.

You managed your own small smile, which blossomed into a chuckle. This was the side of Sylus that had you coming back to him whenever he asked for your company.

His real side.

He kept his hand atop your head, avoiding the bandages completely. His thumb swiped gently over the parting of your hair, pulling you off to sleep again. You were pretty sure that he was doing it on purpose to force you into rest, but you were in no position to argue with him. You were officially exhausted.

“Would you really like me to leave, kitten?” he asked in a soft whisper as your eyes fluttered.

The very thought of him leaving made you a little upset. Despite your attempts at convincing the doctors you were fine, you damn well were not. You needed his comfort, and he needed to know that you were safe and on the road to a speedy recovery.

“No,” you whispered, succumbing to the soothing strokes on your scalp.

A soft brush of his lips was the last thing you felt before you finally drifted off, feeling secure enough to do so with his company.

“Good,” he’d whispered back before you fully clocked out. “I’ll always be careless so long as I get to you.”

A/N - Long time no fic post. I apologise, life has been crazy. I haven’t proof read this cause honestly I’m just too tired so I’ll read over it in the morning and edit any mistakes. Hope you’re all doing well! 🖤

3K notes · View notes

bellfilmz · 4 months ago

Text

𝐎𝐮𝐭 𝐎𝐟 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐋𝐞𝐚𝐠𝐮𝐞

𝐑𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Season1!rafe x shy!reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: in which rafe and reader are partnered for a school project and reader is convinced it’s a sick joke.

𝐎𝐫

In which rafe Cameron has a crush on his smart shy partner and sees this as a chance to pursue her.

Masterlist

—

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐎𝐧𝐞

⸻

The moment your name was called alongside Rafe Cameron’s, your stomach dropped.

Your fingers tightened around the edge of your desk as the teacher continued assigning partners, but the words barely registered. Instead, your thoughts spiraled. Rafe Cameron? The Rafe Cameron? The golden boy of the academy? The one who could get away with skipping class but still ace his exams, the one who walked the halls like he owned them, always surrounded by a group of equally privileged friends?

Yeah. You were doomed.

Stealing a glance at him, you saw that infamous lazy smirk on his lips as he leaned back in his chair, completely unfazed. Meanwhile, you felt like you were about to combust. It wasn’t that you didn’t do well in school—you did. But talking to someone like Rafe, working with someone like Rafe? That was a different challenge entirely.

When the bell rang, signaling the end of class, you were already gathering your books, hoping to escape the awkward interaction for now. But a shadow fell over your desk, and you looked up to find Rafe standing there, hands in the pockets of his crisp uniform slacks.

“So, partner,” he drawled, tilting his head. “Guess that means we gotta work together, huh?”

You swallowed hard and nodded. “Y-Yeah.”

He grinned, like he found your nerves amusing. “You free after school? We can start then.”

You hesitated. “Uh, the library?”

Rafe chuckled. “You really think I study in the library?”

You frowned, unsure if he was making fun of you. “It’s quiet. It makes sense.”

He watched you for a beat, then shrugged. “Alright, library it is.”

And with that, he walked off, leaving you more confused than before.

⸻

By the time you got to the library that afternoon, your heart was hammering. You’d spent the last few hours overthinking every possible scenario—what if he didn’t show up? What if he did show up, but he expected you to do all the work? What if this was some kind of elaborate prank?

But then, to your surprise, Rafe actually walked in, scanning the room before spotting you at a corner table.

“Damn,” he said as he sat down, dropping his bag onto the chair beside him. “Didn’t think you’d actually wait for me.”

You blinked. “You—what?”

He smirked. “Thought you’d ditch. Y’know, avoid me or something.”

You didn’t know what to say to that, so you just opened your notebook. “We should probably start,” you mumbled.

For the first few minutes, you worked in silence. You were hyperaware of his presence, the way he leaned back in his chair, twirling a pen between his fingers like this was all some big joke. But then, something unexpected happened.

Rafe… actually helped.

And not just in the half-hearted, ‘I’ll pretend to read this while you do all the work’ way you expected. He asked questions, offered ideas, even listened when you spoke.

It threw you off completely.

“So,” he said after a while, glancing over at you. “You’re, like, crazy smart, huh?”

Your cheeks warmed. “I—um—I guess?”

His lips quirked. “Kinda cute.”

Your head snapped up. “W-What?”

He just grinned, like he hadn’t said anything, and turned back to his notes. Meanwhile, your brain short-circuited.

⸻

Over the next few days, you kept waiting for the joke, for the moment when Rafe would laugh in your face and reveal that he’d just been messing with you. But he didn’t.

Instead, he kept showing up for your study sessions. Kept sitting a little too close, leaning in when he talked, like he wanted your full attention.

At first, you thought you were imagining it. But then little things started happening—like the time he pulled out the chair next to him, motioning for you to sit before anyone else could. Or when he casually mentioned things about you that you didn’t remember telling him, like how you always chewed on the end of your pen when you were thinking.

“You’re staring,” he said one afternoon, catching you mid-thought.

You nearly dropped your book. “I—I wasn’t!”

Rafe laughed, tapping his pencil against the table. “You totally were.”

You felt heat rush to your face. “I just—It’s just weird,” you blurted before you could stop yourself.

His brows lifted. “Weird?”

You hesitated. “You being nice to me.”

His smirk faltered, just slightly, before he leaned in. “Why’s that weird?”

You fiddled with the corner of your notebook. “I don’t know. You don’t… have to, I guess.”

Rafe studied you, then let out a breathy chuckle. “You really think I’d waste my time messing with you?”

You stiffened. “Wouldn’t be the first time someone did.”

His jaw tightened, but before he could respond, a voice called his name from across the library.

“Cameron, let’s go!”

You turned to see Topper and Kelce lingering near the entrance, both smirking knowingly.

Rafe sighed. “Guess that’s my cue.” He stood up, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “See you tomorrow, partner.”

As he walked off, you heard Topper snicker. “Dude, what is this? Are you studying now?”

Kelce laughed. “Nah, man, Rafe’s just got a thing for the quiet ones.”

Your stomach twisted as Rafe shoved them both, muttering something under his breath.

A thing for the quiet ones? That had to be a joke. Right?

⸻

That night, as you reread your notes, your phone buzzed with a text from an unknown number.

𝐔𝐧𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐧: Hey, partner. Don’t stay up too late studying. Can’t have you tired for our session tomorrow.

You stared at the message, your heart picking up speed.

Then, another text came through.

𝐔𝐧𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐧: It’s Rafe, btw.

You hesitated before responding.

𝐘𝐨𝐮: How did you get my number?

𝐑𝐚𝐟𝐞: I have my ways.

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard, unsure how to respond. Before you could decide, another message popped up.

Rafe: Sweet dreams, smart girl.

Your breath caught.

Staring at the screen, you couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe—just maybe—this wasn’t a prank at all.

⸻

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐓𝐰𝐨

⸻

#rafe fic #obx fanfiction #obx fic #obx x reader #outerbanks rafe #rafe blurb #rafe cameron #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x reader #rafe fanfiction #rafe outer banks #rafe fluff #rafe x you #rafe x reader #rafe smut #rafe imagine #dark rafe cameron #rafe obx

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illichillie · 15 days ago

Text

A shadow of him

Lee Donghyuck x reader

summary: you try to summon your own doppelgänger with a spell that seems impossible. Tonight, the unthinkable happens, and you’re shocked to find out you managed to summon the doppelgänger of your boyfriend, Donghyuck, instead of your own. You’re even more shocked when you hear what he wants to do before he returns to his home world…

pairings: boyfriend!Donghyuck x female (afab) witch!reader x doppelgänger!Haechan

genre: smut, supernatural

cw: smut, supernatural, doppelgängers, witchcraft, magic, female reader, dub-con, creampie, p in v, selfcest (kinda), cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, Haechan is a tease lmao, use of petnames: baby, and mommy (jokingly)

this is heavily inspired by seeing double by @smileysuh !! Go read it now it’s incredible!!

english is not my first language so I apologize for any language errors!! MDNI under cut

You sat down in the small summoning circle you had managed to make, taking deep breaths as you opened your spell-book once again. Ever since you started practicing witchcraft, you hadn’t even been able to do a proper spell yet. Of course, you could do simple things, but you weren’t satisfied with that.

You didn’t learn witchcraft to do small, insignificant spells. No, you wanted something more to come out of this. That’s why you didn’t hesitate to flip through the pages until you reached the pages marked with red ink. Those were the most challenging spells in your book, but you knew you could do them.

For the last few days, this spell was the one you had tried your hardest to do. You could still recall the shock on your boyfriend’s face when you told him about your plan. To someone who wasn’t practicing, something like this would seem otherworldly and maybe even wrong, but you knew that this wasn’t frowned upon among other witches.

You had always been intrigued by the idea of doppelgängers. When you first found out they even existed, they became your little hyper-fixation. Creatures who resembled humans, but came from the other side. What was on the other side wasn’t entirely known to you, and it seemed the doppelgängers were the only creatures willing to come in contact with the human world. You beamed in excitement as you thought about getting to actually meet your own doppelgänger.

You watched as your candles magically lit up as your gaze met them, and hummed lowly before finally reading the words on the page. You worked extra hard on keeping your breathing steady, and felt the hairs on your neck raise as you continued reading.

You closed your eyes as you continued, having already memorized the spell from having tried it so many times. The words didn’t feel as foreign on your tongue as before, it was as if they just rolled off without struggle.

As you said the last words, you couldn’t help but feel a slight shift in the air around you. You kept your eyes closed for a few seconds before finally opening them, and your eyes couldn’t help but widen when you finally witnessed…

nothing.

You groaned in frustration. You were sure it was going to work this time. In a fit of anger, you quickly left the room, not even wanting to sit there in the humiliation of your failure.

You walked over to the kitchen, opening the fridge. Anything to try to get over this repeated cycle. You quickly closed the fridge door with an apple in hand, but immediately dropped it with a yelp when you were met with the presence of your boyfriend on the other side of the door.

”Don’t scare me like that H—”

Your eyes met his, and almost immediately, you could sense that something was off. You looked him up and down, but found nothing odd about what he was wearing. It was the same clothes he left in this morning.

He stayed quiet as he slowly walked towards you, his eyes wide and lips curled into an intrigued smirk.

”I didn’t hear you coming in,” you said in a small voice, still unsure of what was going on.

”Oh I didn’t take the front door, baby,” he answered, putting emphasis on the last nickname that your boyfriend loved to use. Your back collided with the kitchen wall as he made his way towards you, like a snake slithering towards its prey.

”Aren’t you the one who summoned me, hm?”

You felt as if your breathing stopped for a second. You watched as he smiled in amusement as you finally understood. ”But, I didn’t- I tried to summon a doppelgänger, and I—”

”You thought it would be one of you, didn’t you?” he asked as if reading your mind, leaning closer to your ear as his arms caged you between him and the wall.

”Seems like you were thinking about your little boyfriend an awful lot when you sat there, in your little makeshift circle.” You looked away in shame as he teased you for your skills, or lack thereof.

”I— didn’t know it worked like that,” you admitted, feeling degraded by his tone, and those sly eyes looking closely at you. You could feel his breath against your cheek, and you would be lying if you said you weren’t at least a little excited by the situation.

”Well now you know,” he said before letting out a light giggle and finally backing away from you. You let out a deep breath, but felt it get caught in your throat once again when you heard the sound of keys unlocking the front door. Without thinking much, you dragged your boyfriend’s doppelgänger into the nearest room, doing what he had just done to you. He looked at you with wide eyes as you pinned him against the wall.

”Ohh, so you can be dominant too, huh?~” he smirked before you finally covered his mouth, rolling your eyes.

”Baby! I’m home!” you heard Donghyuck say from the hall. You had to admit it felt weird to hear your boyfriend’s voice from the hall when you had an exact copy of him right in front of you, who was smiling into your hand, seemingly amused by your distress.

”Just a second!” you yelled through the door, before whispering to the man in front of you. ”Stay here, and don’t make a sound,” you ordered, trying your best to sound stern and tough. You slowly removed your hand from his mouth, seeing that big smile on him remaining. ”You want me to say ’yes mommy’ or something?” he whispered. You couldn’t help but blush at his airy tone, but just stormed off without answering his question.

You shot him a warning glance before finally leaving the room, not knowing how to act with the man who was standing right outside the door.

”Were you saying something?” he asked, furrowing his eyebrows slightly. ”Nope!” you answered way too quickly. You tried to get his mind off of it by wrapping your arms around his neck, going in for a small kiss. He smiled, but kept looking suspiciously at you.

”You seem… on edge,” he said, making you stiffen even more in his hold. ”Well…” you trailed off, but as soon as you noticed where he was going next, you felt the panic creeping up on you. ”Wait!” you managed to say before he opened the door.

You didn’t even have to look at him to know what face he was making, instead, your eyes wandered to the doppelgänger, who stood there with a wide smile. ”Well hello, my other self!”

Your boyfriend slowly angled his head towards you, meeting your gaze with endless confusion. You looked away quickly. ”Alright, I guess I have some explaining to do…”

——————-

You couldn’t help but notice how the doppelgänger’s eyes bore into you as you explained the situation to your boyfriend. Neither could you ignore the feeling of his leg brushing up against yours under the dinner table, as he sat on the shorter side of it, in between you and Donghyuck who faced each other.

”Is this something that happens often?” Donghyuck asked, not directing the question to you. ”Yeah, it’s a common mistake, so don’t worry,” the man bext to you answered. ”However, it’s a little bit inconvenient that it had to happen today…” he trailed off. You gave him a look, waiting for him to continue.

”I have plans for tonight, y’know?” he pouted slightly. You made eye contact with your boyfriend, who seemed to already have grown tired of his look-alike. ”Uh-huh… And what do you want me to do about that? Is there any way for me to like… send you back?” you asked.

Suddenly, a devious smile coated the doppelgänger’s lips, as his eyes travelled between yours and your boyfriend’s.

”Well, you could always do me a favor,” he looked up innocently at Donghyuck, who gave you a confused glance, as if you knew what he was up to, to which you shook your head. ”And what favor would that be?” you asked, making him look back at you.

He hummed. ”Well… to put it simply,” he started, leaning over to sit closer to you, only to avert his attention back to your boyfriend. ”I would like to fuck your girlfriend!” he said in an all too casual tone.

”Excuse me!?” Donghyuck stood up from his chair. You just sat there, frozen, in disbelief. ”Hear me out, please,” the man next to you said, making Donghyuck slowly sit down again.

”She would basically just have sex with two of you! Or two of me, I guess—” he trailed off. ”How come you’re asking him and not me?” you interrupted.

He looked at you with a smirk, leaning in way too close for someone who almost felt like a stranger. ”Because I already know you’ll be up to it.”

”Really?” Donghyuck said. Your eyes widened in shock as you felt your cheeks heat up. ”I- I don’t—” you stuttered.

”She didn’t tell me per se, but reading human body language isn’t exactly hard.” The doppelgänger winked, leaning closer to Donghyuck instead. ”And since she’s the lover of my doppelgänger, it’s like I already know her, I know her body, I know her mind, her soul,” he continued, voice lowering. Donghyuck only looked at him with bewilderment.

”C’mon, you want to please your lovely girlfriend right? Your baby?” he tilted his head, never once breaking eye contact with Donghyuck.

”Well… I guess,” he said. You gasped in surprise. ”Amazing!” you heard the doppelgänger exclaim, standing up and taking both your and Donghyuck’s hands in his. ”Let’s go then!!”

”Hold on!” you said, making him stop in his tracks. ”I just want to talk about this with Donghyuck first,” you said. ”Alone.”

—————-

”Are you sure you’re okay with this? I mean, this feels very sudden to me, I can only imagine what it’s like for you,” you said, cupping Donghyuck’s face in your hands. He put his hands over yours, a smile on his face.

”I admit that it’s sudden but, now that I think about it… I’m not against the idea,” he admitted shyly. ”But are you sure this is okay?” he asked you, making you blush even more.

”Well, I think he’s right about… knowing my mind, and that stuff,” you admitted. ”And honestly, I kind of see him as an extension… of you,” you laughed a little bit at your own words. Donghyuck gave you a long kiss.

”Let’s do this then, he seems more than eager to finally get his hands on you,” he said, making you look away in shame. ”Can’t blame him though,” Donghyuck continued. ”I feel the exact same way.”

You entered your bedroom, the spell-book still lying open on the floor. You saw the doppelgänger look around the room curiously, looking through your crystals and books, a smile coating his lips. ”Ahh finally,” he said as he spotted the two of you. You could sense the hunger in his eyes as he pulled you closer to the bed. While he did look exactly like Donghyuck, there was something so sinister about his gaze, something so dark and alluring about his tone.

He wasted no time, pushing you down into the soft mattress, climbing on top of you. Your eyes searched for your boyfriend, but the man on top of you grabbed your face rather harshly. “You get to look at him every day, so focus on me now, kay?” he said. You nodded slowly. “Oh and also,” he said while slowly caressing your cheek. “Call me Haechan, so we don’t get confused.”

“Really? That nickname that I used to have?” Donghyuck scoffed, earning a side-glance of judgement from Haechan. “Yes, it sounds much cooler than Donghyuck.” You couldn’t help but laugh at the exchange.

You watched as Haechan whispered something in your boyfriend’s ear, making him nod before changing his position. You were slowly put into this position somewhere between sitting and lying down, with Donghyuck holding you in place from behind.

You felt his hot breath in your ear, making you shiver. “Undress her,” Haechan ordered, making you twitch in anticipation. You felt Hyuck’s hands touch your skin delicately as he slowly took off your shirt. Haechan slowly took off his own shirt as well, looking deep into your eyes as he did so.

Haechan’s hands started fiddling with your zipper, eagerly getting your pants off. “Can’t wait to see you, baby,” he said in that whispery tone that you had already learned to love. You squirmed a little bit as the cold air hit your legs, and couldn’t help but feel exposed in only your underwear.

“Bra too,” Haechan ordered Donghyuck, to which he obeyed immediately. “Have you ever seen your boyfriend in such a state, hm?” Haechan asked you, running his hands up and down your bare thighs that you unconsciously tried to close together. “He’s so obedient right now, so submissive,” he whispered. “He’ll do anything I say…”

You looked away from Haechan as Donghyuck finally got your bra off. “Don’t be shy now,” Haechan sang as his fingers slowly reached the waistband of your panties. “I’m going to make sure to see every little part of this body of yours.”

You shivered as he pulled your panties off, closing your legs together. “This doesn’t feel fair,” you groaned slightly, seeing as you were the only one who was completely undressed.

“Who said anything about this being fair?” Haechan teased. You took a shaky breath as he spread your legs apart, looking between them with a smile. “I knew you were turned on but this?” he almost laughed, collecting a little bit of your wetness with his fingers. “This is really dirty, baby,” he tilted his head.

“Keep looking at me,” Haechan said, to which you obliged, watching as he slowly took his fingers into his mouth and licked and sucked. You felt Donghyuck’s fingers playing with your nipples, rubbing slow circles that made you whine in desperation. “Such a good girl,” he whispered in your ear from behind, sending shivers down your spine.

“Hyuck, keep her legs apart for me,” Haechan said after pulling his fingers out of his mouth with a lewd pop. Donghyuck’s legs looped around yours to keep them spread, as he continued touching your nipples, pinching and pulling.

“I’ve been dying to taste you ever since I first saw you,” Haechan said in almost a whine. Contrary to his controlled and dominant actions, you could hear the desperation and yearning in his voice, see the lust in his eyes.

You felt your boyfriend getting hard behind you, pushing up against your back, and you couldn’t help but grow eager yourself.

But no, Haechan was slow, calculated and such a tease, even worse than Donghyuck. His plump lips slowly kissed your stomach, his hands resting on your thighs, way too close to your aching heat for you to ignore it. “Please,” you whined out without even thinking about it. “Hm? Please what?” Haechan separated himself from your skin, making you twitch ever so slightly. “Please Haechan— I need you,” you let out.

Your boyfriend let out an amused hum from behind you. “So desperate,” he whispered. “You like having two of me huh?”

You simply nodded as Haechan’s fingers drew small circles on the skin of your inner thighs. “Be patient,” he said before continuing his slow teasing, a small giggle leaving his mouth as he kissed you. Your eyes met his as he looked up from his spot, and you saw the way he smiled when you let out a whimper as Donghyuck continued pinching your nipples.

You felt your boyfriend’s lips meet your neck, sucking and licking, and that only added to the sensations. Four hands, two mouths and an ache inside you, begging to be satisfied.

When you could swear Haechan had reached where you wanted his lips the most, he instead opted to start kissing your thighs, making your hips buck up slightly. You writhed around, trying to grab his head, but Donghyuck was quick to grab you, giving your sensitive buds a rest to instead hold your hands in his. “Please Haechan,” you said, looking down at him desperately.

He only giggled, continuing his slow work. “You want a little distraction?” Hyuck whispered. You immediately nodded, making him turn your head to kiss you hungrily. You could tell he needed it too, with how handsy he had been, how his hips had slowly moved against you from behind you, and the way he was almost panting in your ear. You felt his tongue against yours, but you were far from distracted, you just wanted more.

As if Haechan could read your mind, that’s when he finally licked a long stripe between your legs, making your breath hitch. Contrary to his previous actions, his tongue moved quickly, flicking over your clit as his hands gripped your thighs.

Donghyuck continued kissing and sucking at your neck as Haechan’s tongue worked wonders between your legs. You tried to hold back your noises, but you couldn’t stop them from leaving your parted lips. “That’s it baby,” you heard your boyfriend praise, caressing your hands that he still held in his.

You gasped when Haechan slowly inserted two of his fingers inside of you, curling them upwards as his tongue moved quickly. You tried to close your legs slightly, the sensations being too much to bear, but Haechan just slapped your thigh and made a noise of disapproval. You felt Donghyuck’s legs hold yours down with greater force, making you throw your head back at the unavoidable pleasure of Haechan’s fingers and mouth.

“Hey,” Donghyuck said, and you could tell he was talking to his doppelgänger, not you. “Don’t get carried away,” he said, sounding almost a little grumpy. “She’s my girlfriend, not yours.”

You could barely focus on their conversation as Haechan’s fingers picked up the pace. “Oh please,” he just said before continuing to lick you. “Can’t you tell— that she loves it?” Haechan said in between licks. Hyuck let out what almost sounded like a growl.

You felt yourself getting close, your hands gripping your boyfriend’s, legs trembling slightly. Hyuck’s teeth grazed your neck slightly as Haechan continued pushing you closer to orgasm.

“There you go baby,” one of them said, you could barely tell who was who in the state you were in, but that was the last thing you heard before pushing over the edge and letting out a loud moan. Your entire body trembled as Haechan continued violently licking and sucking your clit, his fingers still keeping a steady rhythm inside of you.

Right when Hyuck’s hands left yours you were quick to grab a hold of Haechan’s dark locks, pulling slightly to stop the overstimulation that was about to make you cry. He didn’t budge though, he continued his tongues work no matter how sensitive you were, only seeming to get more eager when you pulled his hair, letting out groans and whines.

You had barely noticed your boyfriend moving from his spot behind you, until you saw him, now only wearing his boxers, standing behind Haechan at the end of the bed. He took a hold of the man’s hair, pulling him away from your aching heat, to which Haechan let out a whine of disapproval, looking at Hyuck with an angry pout.

“Greedy, huh?” Donghyuck smirked at him, pushing him to the side of the bed. “Well I’m getting pretty desperate as well,” he said, crawling on top of your form. Your eyes were in the back of your head as you took deep breaths, still recovering from the intense orgasm. They both got fully undressed, throwing all of their clothes on the floor. Haechan almost rushed to kiss you, but someone stopped him from doing it.

“What now!?” Haechan whined at your boyfriend, who once again, chose to pull his hair. “Haven’t you had enough of her already?” Hyuck asked, keeping his hand fisted in his hair. “I’ll allow you to do what I just did. You’re going to have to watch me pleasure her, while you sit there, not being able to do anything about it,” he smiled. You didn’t even recognize this side of Hyuck, but you guessed having another him here brought out his competitive side.

Surprisingly enough, Haechan just nodded, and got behind you, imitating the position your boyfriend had before. “What happened to you being so tough?” you teased him as he got settled behind you. He smirked at your comment, leaning in to talk right into your ear. “I can be a good boy too,” he said. “Can’t I, mommy?”

You twitched at the nickname he already used once earlier today. It wasn’t something you would ever get off on normally, but hearing Haechan say it was something completely new. It was so loaded with yearning, so teasing, and really reminded you of the control he seemed to have over you.

You looked at Donghyuck who carefully spread your legs and put them over his shoulders. You gasped when you felt his length push against you, slowly teasing against your entrance that still felt sensitive after Haechan’s fingers.

You twitched when Haechan’s mouth started kissing the shell of your ear, small sounds leaving his lips and making you squirm in his hold. It was apparent to you how desperate he was for your attention, both when dominant and submissive. “That feels good? hm?” he said into your ear before letting his lips travel lower down your neck. His mouth was so different from Donghyuck’s, but still so addicting.

Donghyuck quickly grabbed your hands and locked eyes with you. You gave him a small nod before he finally pushed himself inside of you, making your eyes roll back at the feeling.

Hyuck let out a gasp when he fully entered you, and you could feel Haechan shift behind you as he let out a small whimper. You couldn’t help but laugh a little at his sudden change in behavior - all it took was a hand in his hair for him to become like this.

“You feel so good,” Donghyuck said, letting you get used to the feeling of his girth inside of you. You inhaled sharply as he started moving, but your attention was soon turned elsewhere, when Haechan started moving your hand to the side. You heard him moan loudly when he wrapped your hand around his cock, using his own to guide it up and down.

“You really can’t help yourself can you?” Donghyuck said, looking into Haechan’s eyes. “You’re right, I can’t.”

He had no shame about it, bucking into your hand, letting out airy breaths and moans. You noticed his rhythm changing with Donghyuck’s, as if he tried to match it. “You wish you could be inside her too, don’t you?” Hyuck said between groans. You gasped when Hyuck’s fingers found your clit, making slow circles with his fingers.

You felt Haechan’s other hand move towards your nipples. “Can I suck?” he asked shamelessly, still fucking into your hand. You nodded, and he immediately laid you down on the mattress and started licking and sucking your nipple. Your eyes met Hyuck’s, and you could tell he was about to burst deep inside of you from the look in his eye alone.

“You’re really going to cum inside of her without even making her cum too?” Haechan asked, pausing his mouth’s movements. “Oh don’t worry,” Hyuck said, quickening his movements. “I have other plans for that.”

Donghyuck became loud as he finally came deep inside of you, making you arch your back at the full feeling. He kept thrusting a few more times, fucking it deeper into you before pulling out.

“Make him cum too baby,” he ordered in your ear, and you finally let your hand work on its own on Haechan, which immediately made him putty in your hands, throwing his head back and thrusting quickly. It didn’t take much for him to explode in your hands, and as you expected, he was much louder than Donghyuck, high-pitched moans filling the room as he came all over your stomach.

There was a moment where the three of you just lay there, panting and basking in the afterglow, but it didn’t last very long. ”Baby,” Donghyuck said in your ear, to which you responded with a small hum. ”Why don’t you get on top of Haechan?”

You and Haechan glanced at Donghyuck in sync, but while your expression turned into a smirk, Haechan’s became one of confusion.

You quickly climbed on top of Haechan, eager to follow whatever plan your boyfriend had in mind. ”What, but I already came, I—” Haechan stuttered, looking between you and Hyuck. ”You wanted to fuck her, didn’t you?” Donghyuck asked as you slowly repositioned yourself to lower yourself down on his cock.

”Y-yeah but—” Haechan was interrupted by his own gasp when he felt you against his tip, that was still so sensitive. ”Don’t you want to make her cum?” Donghyuck asked, making Haechan nod after a pause, even though he twitched at the sensation of you against him.

You smiled when you heard the loud whine he let out as you let him enter you, noting that he was still hard, even after just cumming all over himself. The wetness of Hyuck’s cum inside of you coated Haechan, even spilling out on the sides of your hole as you moved on top of him.

”Shit, fuck—” Haechan cursed, grabbing your hips. You saw Hyuck’s expression of pure joy as his doppelgänger whimpered loudly in the mix of pain and pleasure.

”She’s going to keep going until she cums too, no matter how long it takes,” Donghyuck informed lowly into Haechan’s ear, earning an eager nod from him.

You closed your eyes in delight, working your hips on the writhing man beneath you, letting yourself use him for your own pleasure. Even though he shivered and dig his nails into your hips, you could tell he was enjoying it too. Those shaky breaths, the way his cock grew larger again inside of you, and the way his hip’s unmistakably bucked up into you constantly, it was obvious that he was pleased with the situation too.

You felt Donghyuck’s presence behind you, his hands roaming your body gently. ”That’s it baby,” he said into your ear, his voice sounding deep in contrast to Haechan’s noises. When you felt his fingers on your clit again, you felt the warm feeling build inside you at a rapid pace, making you grab Donghyuck’s forearm in an attempt to steady yourself.

You had never heard Hyuck even making nearly as much noise as Haechan was right now - with that said, you hadn’t overstimulated him before either - but the sounds made you reach your second high even faster. Haechan’s eyes rolled back into his head as you picked up the pace, your own moans being drowned out by the man beneath you, who now almost dug his nails into your hips. ”Shit— I’m gonna cum too,” Haechan said as he felt you pulse around him.

You heard Donghyuck let out a small giggle behind you, but you couldn’t focus on that when you finally let go in his arms and let yourself let out a loud moan. Haechan spasmed slightly underneath you, gasping as he spurted deep inside of you. You twitched at the warm feeling of cum inside of you before finally allowing yourself to collapse on top of Haechan.

You slowly let him pull out of you, feeling the mix of Donghyuck and Haechan’s cum starting to ooze out from between your legs.

”You did so well,” Donghyuck praised, rubbing a soothing hand over your warm back. You felt the deep rise and fall of Haechan’s chest from under you, before he gently rolled you over to your back. You let out a small sound of confusion when Harchan started making his way out of the bed. Donghyuck quickly laid down next to you instead, pulling the soft blankets over you.

”Leaving so soon?” you asked as Haechan got dressed. ”I’ve got plans tonight, remember?” he reminded you, running a hand through his messy hair. ”Hope one of me’s enough for you,” he smirked, making you roll your eyes dramatically.

”But wait, wasn’t this the compensation for you having to miss out on your plans?” Donghyuck asked. Haechan looked away with a guilty smile. ”Well…” and that was the last thing he said before finally leaving the two of you in your bedroom, closing the door behind him.

”You think he’s going back to his own world now? just like that?” you asked, cuddling up against your boyfriend’s warm frame. ”Hopefully. I’m done with being this jealous anyway,” he admitted. You raised your eyebrow, looking into his half-opened eyes. ”Really? You? Jealous? Of someone who’s basically a clone of yourself?” you questioned, making him scoff.

”Yeah, me, jealous. He’s still another man who just fucked my girlfriend at the end of the day, right?”

You couldn’t help but burst into laughter at his words, having never heard him be this pouty about something like this before. ”You’re so cute when you’re like this,” you poked his cheek. He smiled brightly before leaning in to give you a small kiss on the lips.

”I love you, you know that right?” he said, his breath fanning over your face.

”Of course I know that, silly,” you smiled. ”And you know I love you, right? Even though you’re jealous of your own doppelgänger?”

Donghyuck laughed before kissing you again, even harder this time. ”Yes. Of course I know that.”

I hope you enjoyed this story!!💋

feel free to leave me requests if you have a specific scenario/member/prompt in mind!

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hot-patootiee · 2 months ago

Text

Part 3

part 2 here. I’m writing these like right after my Calc BC exam and I have a killer headache but fuck it we ball. Aka Steve is not the only one to obtain brain damage because of an ex.

Don’t worry about the headache, I’m having a special gummy and chilling.

…

Eddie wakes up to an empty bed. He finds a note on the nightstand.

Had to go to work, see you later

-Steve

An idea forms in his head on what to do to help apologize. Steve’s constant complaints about the big empty house he lived in. How he wished Robin or Eddie could stay forever.

Eddie was still a little unsure. It would be quite an assumption to make. He would probably have to talk to Robin during her break and see if she would also be on board and if she thought it was a good idea.

But, he knew Steve would be ecstatic to have people he cared about close by. Eddie couldn’t help but remember the nights he was woken up from Steve calling to make sure he was alive.

It would suck moving away from Wayne, but Eddie figured that taking the relationship too serious would be better than not taking it serious enough.

Eddie decided that despite just waking up at this unholy hour (11 am), he would go see Robin and brief her on his plan.

When he got to family video, luckily, Steve was working in the back and Robin sat at the desk.

She perked up as soon as she saw him.

“Eddie I messed up.” Robin stumbles out with a groan.

Eddie waits for her to continue.

“I didn’t know that Steve thought you two were dating. He’s been talking about you for weeks and I never noticed.” Robin whines again, head dropping shamefully.

“I have just the thing.” And just like that Robin is up again.

“Really?” Robin exclaimed, jumping on her toes as she leaned against the counter. Eddie personally didn’t think Robin could show this much emotion, but with Steve’s stories, it doesn’t really surprise him.

“Do you think Steve would be on board with us living with him?”

“He’s been asking me to forever, it’s just my parents give me crap for moving in with a single man.” Robin replied plainly, hints of resentment lacing her voice.

“Well you’re 18 and therefore you make your own decisions. Do you want to move in with him?” Eddie probes and Robin smiles at him in return.

She nods hard, making her hair bounce with the stiff jerks of her head.

“I want to do something else too.” Eddie mutters.

Robin seems a little suspicious as she says “Good idea, but why?”

“This is kinda both a burden and a blessing. Steve’s been wanting it for a while, but it ultimately gives him more work to do.” Eddie points ponders slowly. He rolls over potential actions in his mind, seeing how smoothly they work before coming to a conclusion.

“Maybe just a nice night. Steve gets headaches and weed might help him relax. Or He’s been talking about hosting a game night forever, we could take care of everything and just let him relax.” Eddie shrugs, thinking through different dinner options and possibilities of what Steve would like.

“Ask Steve if there’s anything you can do to make his life easier. He’s selfless by nature so there’s probably something you’ve been doing that he doesn’t like.” Robin replies coolly. She then winces. “I should probably stop putting my feet on his dash.” She murmurs in a guilty tone.

“That’s a good idea.” Eddie nods.

“I gotta pack my shit, I’ll help you pack yours, you help with mine?” Robin inquires. The way she bats her eyes might’ve seemed flirty to anyone else, but it was evidently just effective manipulation. Because Eddie knew unless he was throwing all his shit out the window, she would immediately get bored and ditch him for a German dictionary.

News flash: she did.

…

Steve surprisingly did not get impatient as time trudged on. Eddie searched his face for any mark of displeasure, but failed to find any.

But, apparently Eddie just wasn’t the one seeing it. Something about Steve had changed a little bit, instead of backing down when challenged, he just dug his heels in. It reminded Eddie of the Steve in the upside down.

Allegedly Steve had been driving all the kids down to the new diner. Mike had been skeptical about Steve’s directions and had started loudly declaring that he had gone the wrong way.

“It’s not like you’re the intellectual authority on anything Steve.”

The breaks were hit so fast that all the boys jerked forward with the sudden stop.

According to Dustin Steve then yelled “WELL I AM THE AUTHORITY OF THIS GODDAMN CAR, GET OUT IF YOU HAVE AN ISSUE!”

Steve waited a few beats and when nobody moved, put down the parking break and the engine whined slightly as Steve shifted into first a little too violently and pulled out.

Mike was scared so badly that he just sat there petrified for the rest of the ride.

So, Steve was evidently frustrated.

Eddie went to visit Steve immediately after hearing what happened. When he found him, Steve was grumbling on his bed. Obviously still peeved about earlier, every few seconds he would reflexively rub his temples.

Steve nearly jumped out of his skin when he noticed Eddie.

Eddie didn’t say anything, he just pulled out a joint and handed it to Steve, who took it apprehensively.

“It helps with headaches.” Eddie weakly justifies, but it seems to be enough to convince Steve, who then leans forward and sticks his hand in Eddie’s pocket and extracts a lighter.

He lights the joint with little fanfare, like he was just having his third daily cigarette. He breathes it in easily before expelling the smoke through his pursed lips.

“This is a little different.” Steve comments, slightly more relaxed at the promise of a high that the joint brought.

“I swapped seeds with Argyle, I had sativa, he had indica. What you’re smoking, just indica, apparently argyle is trying to get the hybrid strain.” Eddie says in a blasé tone as he climbs into Steve’s bed.

“What’s the difference?” Steve asked before taking another hit, longer this time.

“It’s supposed to relax you more. Less high, but more relaxing.” Eddie loosely explains.

Steve hogs the joint a little, but Eddie honestly thinks he deserves it. When Steve finally plops his head on Eddie’s lap, he gets an idea.

Eddie sinks his fingers into Steve’s hair and slowly begins to massage his head. Steve immediately melted into it, muscles straining occasionally when Eddie dragged his fingers especially hard at a tender spot.

Conversation became less frequent as Eddie pushed his fingers into Steve’s jaw and massaged the tense muscles there. Steve made the occasional noise, a grunt or a strange trill that he seemed to find incredibly funny.

The tension and brewing migraine seemed to have completely melted off Steve, leaving him tired and happy. He giggled through half lidded eyes and smiled impossibly wide when Eddie left and came back with reheated leftover pizza from Steve’s fridge.

Eddie struggled not to focus on Steve’s face, his gaze traced Steve’s wide smile and the sparkle in his dark eyes.

“Kis’me” the words came from Steve with a slight lisp. An unwavering smile still plastered on his face.

Eddie obliged because honestly how could he not?

The movement caused Eddie’s face to feel like firecrackers were going off on his skin. The tingling sensation danced across his skin, warmth blooming from where Steve and him met.

Eddie couldn’t focus, incredibly overwhelmed by the assault on his senses of different textures and pressures. The plushness of Steve’s lips contrasted with the lean muscle Eddie’s fingers dug into.

Eddie pulled away when his lungs went tingly from lack of air. He giggled as Steve and him stayed close, puffing out breaths of air right next to eachother.

“Wish you could stay all the t’me.” Steve yawned out, stretching his back slightly like a cat and dipping further into Eddie’s personal space.

“I can.” Eddie replies firmly.

“Really?” Steve is smiling again, so wide that Eddie was worried it might hurt from pulling his lips.

“How’d you like that? I move in with you, maybe Robin too.”

Steve trills, making soft stringy vocalizations at Eddie’s proposal. Steve nearly seems to glow at the proposition.

“Youu move ‘n tomorrow?” Steve’s muscles jump erratically in excitement, his knees tapping and jerking like he can’t control it.

“If you still want me to in the morning.” Eddie whispered, stroking Steve’s hair.

…

When morning came, Eddie woke gently, the after effects of the high still cradling him and making him relaxed.

Unfortunately it didn’t last long as he heard a shrill whistle and the telltale thump of something falling and Robin’s witchlike giggles. Eddie reluctantly pulled himself out of bed and found the hallway scattered with boxes. He turned the corner and Will and El were both there, but not to make things easier. El had a little whistle she was happily blowing whenever someone passed her. Will seemed conflicted on whether he found it funny or entirely too disrespectful for him to take part in.

Unfortunately, the first time El did this, it scared Robin so badly that she nearly threw a box of her own clothes down the stairs.

And there Robin was, clothes halfway out of the box and engulfing her upper body. Steve was laughing his socks off which promptly led to a fistful of clothes being thrown in his face.

Eddie quickly decided he wanted nothing to do with this and quietly made his way back to Steve’s room.

Best to act like he didn’t know them for a few more hours.

…

When Eddie finally arose at a normal time (11:30am) he found Robin setting up the room across from Steve with her stuff.

“Heya birdie.”

Robin glared at him.

“I talked it over with Steve, he’s apparently thrilled enough to forgive me only after I cook gnocchi.”

Eddie makes a half confused noise.

“Potato pasta.” Robin paused. “And you’re helping.” Robin asserts, making Eddie grumble.

Eddie leaves without seeing Steve, opting to also grab his shit to move to Steve’s house. Luckily, he and Robin had already boxed up a majority of the room.

It was probably a good thing he’s moving, Wayne’s back couldn’t take the couch springs much longer.

He packed his boxes into the van, the summer sun making his sweat so much he was forced to change into one of his sleeveless tops.

When he arrived back at Steve’s the kitchen had been fully commandeered by Robin who was peeling steaming potatoes with her fingers. Eddie didn’t get more of a glance as he began moving his stuff upstairs, abandoning it in the hallway because he was a little unsure what room Steve would want him in.

During one of his trips back down to his van, Steve finally appeared. He was sitting next to the counter and stealing potato bits from Robin as she worked. He looked at home in his own house for the first time in a while. His eyes traced Robin carefully as she worked as if she’d disappear. When Steve noticed Eddie, his eyes immediately flicked over to him.

“Which room should I move my stuff in?” Eddie asked with false casualness.

“Mine.”

Steve made no move to help, which was honestly something Eddie fully expected. Instead Steve bounced his feet on the floor with a smile and stuffed another crumbling bit of potato into his mouth. Eddie had apparently failed to realize the two little gremlins sitting in Steve’s shadow. Will and Eleven similarly shoving potato bits into their mouths.

Eddie couldn’t help but smile at Steve’s happiness.

…

Later that night, with boxes still artfully scattered around the second floor, a train of children entered the house. Each carried either a food item to contribute or a housewarming present.

Max grumbled as she handed Steve the Apple pie that had evidently been made by the Sinclairs, judging by the streak of flower on the back of Lucas’s shirt.

Eddie was setting up ‘a game of things’ which he knew from experience would always wonderfully devolve into Regan jokes and idiocy.

Steve got to sit and relax as Eddie and Robin hosted the party, letting him play with the kids and receive their guilty apologies. Since they were still kids, Steve forgave them. Heck, he was way more self absorbed and dickish at their age.

When Eddie finished, he dropped behind Steve, putting his hands on Steve’s shoulders and beginning to rub into the tense muscles. Steve twitched occasionally when Eddie hit a knot, but otherwise seemed pretty content.

“Your metal music gives me headaches.” Steve says suddenly. “You play it too loud and it hurts.”

“Then I’ll turn down the music. You’ll never get a headache from it again.” Eddie affirms.

Steve just hums.

“I forgive you.”

Steve paused for a moment.

“But that doesn’t mean you can stop massaging me.” Steve snapped, head lolling back until it met Eddie’s arms.

AN: have a head massage while high, it’s the best thing ever.

Also, I just don’t understand grand gestures of love, they never made me feel good. Like thanks for the stuffed animal and candies, kinda doesn’t make up for you being a dick about my dead dog. How about you instead like make something that takes time and actually shows you give a shit or go out of your way to give me a good night. I don’t understand the fall in love fast thing a lot of people do. I cultivate my love by the light of the hearth, not the light of a firecracker.

Ps. If you want me to do a follow up where Nancy and him talk. Just let me know. It’s just I didn’t really see her as central part of this story. Thought it would be better to highlight the kids, Robin, and Eddie.

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