#(one of the few good things i say about this man before i go back to dragging him)

[stardustquills]

thinking about husband!nanami being obsessed with the idea of getting you pregnant. 18+ mdni. wc; 1.7k

-

you’ve lost track of how many times he’d made you come - how many time he’s come in you. even now, hours later, it seems like there’s no end.

not that you were complaining anyway.

“oh, baby,” he dragged, voice an octave lower than it usually was. kento had just come in you for the nth time, marking your walls with his white ropes.

he pulled out, leaning his head down to take a glance at his art. “what a pretty pussy. my pretty pussy.” your lips were swollen and puffy, blushed as his seed escaped your cunt, trickling down onto the bed.

he tsked, taking two fingers and scooping up your combined juices before shoving it back in.

you folded with a sob, biting on his shoulder. You head moved into the crook of his neck, taking in his natural scent mixed with his earthy cologne.

“h-ha, ken,” you managed to whimper, your hands weakly clawing at his shoulders. you were overstimulated and tired, unsure of how much longer you could handle him and his insane sex drive.

“doing so good f’me, honey,” he cooed softly, giving you a moment to recover before the next round. his free hand combed through your hair, a soothing motion he knew you loved. when he spoke again, it was like he was speaking to a baby. voice all sweet and gentle, one you couldn’t find yourself saying no to. “think you can go another round?”

he wasn’t really asking - he’d make you go another round.

he slipped his fingers out, causing a soft mewl to escape your throat. your hole hopelessly clenched around nothing as he brought his fingers up to his mouth, cleaning them off. he hummed contently, his fingers moving out of his mouth with a pop!

“we taste good together,”

what a filthy, filthy man your husband was.

“k-kento,” you looked up at him, a pout on your lips with dried tear stains. you hands moved from his shoulders to his neck, your fingers fiddling thing the hairs on the nape.

he looked down at you as you called his name - his heart softened at the sight. his precious wife pouting and looking up at him with doe eyes. your body trembled and shook, goosebumps rising as he trailed a hand down your arm. “yes, darling?”

“‘m tired,” you started, voice quiet and barely audible. “can’t-“

“ah ah,” he cut you off, “yes you can. c’mon honey, just one more round, please?”

how could deny him after he asked so sweetly? but you didn’t know what had gotten into him, why he was so hellbent on getting you pregnant. having kids wasn’t a new topic in your marriage, it’s been something that’s been discussed numerous times, but now you think you’re ready for it.

ever since you told kento “let’s have some kids,” (which was earlier today), he’s been pounding into you like a bitch in heat.

it’s just that he thinks you’d look so beautiful pregnant with his kids. it’s something he’s been thinking about for ages. kento knew you’d be the mother of his kids just a few months into dating.

and now he finally gets to live it.

he can’t wait to see you all round and glowing, growing his kids in your womb. he just knows that you’d be an amazing mother, it’s something you’ve been talking about, and it fills with him so much happiness.

fuck, he’s hard again.

“mmh-“ you whine into his neck as he takes your hand and it helps it wrap around his cock. his hand is around yours, helping you pump because your hands feel that much better than his.

and the whimpers of your name that leave his lips are so delicious, so delicate and full of the love he has for you. “just one more round, baby, please?” he repeats, voice breathy as you both pumped that veiny cock. “wanna get you pregnant so bad. last round, i promise.”

his hand left yours as he helped you on top of him, your legs straddling his as you hand continued moving up and down, torturously slow. kento looked up at you, his hand swiping a strand of hair behind your ear, a soft smile adorning his lips.

“so pretty,” he pulled your face closer to his, placing a kiss on your forehead. “so beautiful,” he kissed your eyelids, “so perfect,” the tip of your nose, “all mine,” before kissing your lips.

you swallowed up his whimpers and moans, you hand still resuming that unhurried pace. his lips fell open and you continued pecking them, a girlish giggle leaving you as a particularly needy moan of your name left your husband.

“just one more round, yeah?” he pulled his face away from yours, his eyes falling to where your hand tugged on his cock. the tip was an angry red from being so used and aroused, and when you swiped your thumb over his slit he thought he’d come right then and there.

“nghh, b-baby,” his hand grabbed your wrist, stopping your movements, “fuck, gonna make me come,” his voice was deep and gravelly, and you could feel the fresh pool of arousal at your cunt. “gotta come in you, honey, gotta give you some babies,”

kento’s hands moved to your hips, lifting them with a mumble (“lift your hips for me, sweetheart. there you go.”) as he let you line him up with your cunt. your cunt that was drooling with his come, making a mess on his thighs. but he didn’t care - the sight only turned him on even more.

you let yourself lower onto him, a desperate moan ripping through your throat, one that matched your husband’s.

“kenn,” you panted, already squirming, just from him bottoming out. the pleasure was too much for you and your overstimulated pussy. your head fell into the crook of his neck once more, using his scent to ground yourself.

“shh, you’re doing so good, mrs. nanami,” and there it was, his favourite nickname for you, “last round, sweetheart, you can take it,”

you had a feeling this wouldn’t be the last round.

but oh he was being so sweet, so nurturing and careful as his hands helped you roll your hips against his. your thighs shook already, goosebumps rising all over your skin as he did all the work even though you were on top. he doesn’t even bother to rub hearts on your clit; he knows you’ll come just from the penetration alone.

his heart is full of so much love and lust, breathless gasps leaving his plump lips as he feels himself hitting your cervix. so much love for his wonderful wife - his wife that lets him use her body over and over again without any complaints.

he bucked his hips up, a moan of ecstasy leaving him as a gasp of surprise left you. his strong arms now wrapped around your waist, pinning you against him as he bucked his hips up into you again, not letting you escape.

you took it like the good girl you were and it drove him mad.

“so good to me, sweetheart,” he leans his head down to your hair, inhaling the sweet, floral scent of your shampoo. kento closed his eyes, letting himself thrust into you faster and faster. he’s so pussy drunk he can’t think straight; he’s only focused on giving his wife some babies. “mmm-aah, mrs. nanami!”

each thrust brushed against your g-spot, a breathless pant leaving you every time it happened. you couldn’t think straight. you wanted it to stop, the sensation was tiptoeing the fine line between pain and pleasure, but fuck kento’s noises were like music to your ears. you’re so cock drunk, strands of incoherent babbles leaving your lips as he dragged his cock in and out of you.

you could feel yourself clench around him, a distinct whine leaving your lips as you felt that familiar coil in your stomach.

“gonna come again, love?” kento grunted, a singular ha! leaving him as his dick kept ramming into you. “it’s only been a few minutes, darling,”

“too much, ken, ‘s too much,” you sobbed, seeing a fresh batch of tears blurring your vision.

“you’re fine,” he decided, thrusting into you with a newfound fervour. “you can take it, honey, i know you can.”

and you do. because who are you to disappoint your loving husband? if he says you can take it, you can take it.

“that’s it, such a good girl,” your head spins with how proud he sounds. you could smell the salty sweat mixed with his earthy cologne. god, everything about him drove you nuts.

“it’s okay, baby, you can come,” he encourages you, one hand petting your hair, the other still wrapped around your waist. kento could feel like way your walls have been fluttering around him, one of the signs you were close. not to mention the way your body quivered and spasmed.

a few more thrusts and you were coming undone, your noises of pleasure being muffled against his neck. your chest heaved with each deep breath, doing everything you can to try and reduce your heart rate.

kento came soon after, his arms tightening around you as an attractive moan left him. thick, white ropes of his seed shot into your womb again, and he kept thrusting until he was sure his come was in you as deep as it could go.

“i love you,” kento whispered, kissing your hair since you kept your face in his neck. he bucked his hips into you again, testing the waters, and chuckled when a high-pitched whine left you.

“love you too,” you kissed his neck, still breathing heavily.

he didn’t pull out, not wanting his waste any of his come. instead, thrusted into you again, slowly, sloppily, his pussy drunk mind taking control of his body.

“k-kento,” you pleaded, dragging your nails down his chest as his pace gained momentum. “you said that was the last round-“

“i know, sweetheart,” fuck, his voice was so needy - your overstimulated walls fluttered around him madly. “but you just feel so good, and i wanna get you pregnant so bad, and h-hahh,” he moaned, cutting himself off.

and it’ll continue, night after night after night, until he knows you’re pregnant - and even then, it might happen after that, too. because kento is so in love with his marvellous wife, he only wants to make her feel good.

[luveline]

Can we perhaps have more of Hotch and Spencer's Shy older sister???

hotch knows he shouldn’t flirt but he can’t really help himself! fem, 1.3k

Aaron’s used to rushing around. He has so little time and so much to do, he spends the majority of his life trying to cram it to capacity. But the half an hour of therapy he forced himself to sit through with the BAU psychologist did unfortunately shed some light on what this is doing to his head —he’s more prone to panicking now than he was ten years ago. He keeps his head at work because he has to, but the fact of the matter is that there will be moments where he can’t choose if he doesn’t look after himself better. 

So. Today Aaron is looking for clothes. Some for himself and some for Jack, and it’s alright if it takes him four hours. All he has to do is get them some summer shorts and get Jack some new underclothes now he’s growing again, and afterwards he’ll go to the butchers for some fresh beef to grind, so he and Jack can make burgers when he’s home from his Aunt Jess’. 

Unfortunately, Aaron is bored out of his mind. He has a basket full of all the things he’d needed, having found what he needed methodically, and now he’s remembered he’s supposed to be relaxing as he's perusing the aisles. There isn’t much relaxing about department stores. A baby cries in a stroller across the room, a clerk slides hangers over a squeaking rail, and an annoying gentleman flirts over loud somewhere to the right. 

“Let me take you out for coffee.” 

Aaron turns the price tag on a sweatshirt and glares at it. Why should a plain black sweatshirt cost forty seven dollars? Jack will only have it for the year. It has about twenty good wears in it. 

“What do you say, sweetheart? Can we go for coffee?” 

Aaron lifts his head before you’ve opened your mouth to speak. He’s surprised to see it’s you, a Reid, nervously disposed as your brother, shifting from one foot onto another. “It’s a nice offer–”

You’re spoken over. “What do you like, matcha? Ice coffee?” 

Your lips are turning down. “I’m sorry, I–” Aaron can feel your panic, poor shy girl. He’s met you a handful of times with your brother in company, and each time you’ve melted under the attention, flustered, and somehow Aaron can tell this is different. “I’m married.” 

It’s obvious that you’re not being truthful. Your tone is high-strung, and it doesn’t perturb the unnamed man one bit. “Are you sure?” he asks with a laugh. “You don’t sound sure.” 

Aaron can’t confess to liking that. 

If a woman doesn’t want you to flirt with her, you shouldn’t. If she says she has a boyfriend, whether that seems true or untrue, you leave her alone. These are basic rules, easily followed, and easier still not to laugh at you. No, you won’t be laughed at. 

Aaron clears his throat, cutting the man’s laugh short, and worsening your panic for the few seconds where you don’t know who he is. You tip your head to him and there, he can see the thread of recognition. There’s pleasure to be found in the relief in your eyes, but Aaron puts it out of his mind. “She’s sure,” he says simply. 

“Aaron,” you say. 

“Found it,” Aaron says, presenting you with the forty-seven dollar sweatshirt, proud when you take it. “He’ll grow out of it by Christmas, but Mrs. Lundy can finally leave us alone about him having clothes for soft play.”

You play your part, inspecting the sweatshirt with a narrowed brow. “It seems a bit short for Jack?” 

Aaron gives your flirting man a look. Sorry buddy, it says, though he isn’t sorry at all. You’re firmly taken. 

“Well, I tried,” he says. 

Aaron snorts. 

You wait for the man to leave before letting your shoulders drop, rubbing your forehead with the back of your hand. “Ah, I’m sorry,” you say. “I’m so bad at saying no.”

“Do you really think that’s too short for Jack?” he asks. 

You raise your gaze. “Well, when I last saw him he was at my hip. That looks like it’d fit him and all, but not when he raises his arms? I don’t know, though, I’m not a mom.” 

You could be, thinking about the arm raising. It’s something he should’ve thought about himself. “I didn’t want to pay for it, anyhow,” he says, sliding it onto a random rack with a small apology in mind for whoever has to put it back. “I hope my intrusion was warranted.” 

“You probably think I’m a bad person. I should’ve been honest.” 

“For lying? You can be married if you want. It’s not really his business.” 

You seem to remember then that you’re intimidated by him, no matter how hard Aaron might try to put you at ease (though, to be fair to you, the last time you’d met Aaron had been flirting) (only because you’d had a crush on him all those years ago when Spencer settled into his new job and you’d came into Virginia to make sure of it). Your hand drifts to your neck and you look pointedly away from the women’s underwear behind you. 

“Uh, so– so how are you?” you ask. 

“I’m good, honey,” he says, entrenched in a fondness for you that’s far more endeared than pitying. “I thought I better come and get Jack some summer clothes without him hanging off of my arm. How are you? How are you settling in?” 

You’d finally made the move to be with Spencer a few months ago. You have your own apartment near his in Washington D.C, and Aaron hasn’t had any opportunity to see you beyond a few lunchtime visits. “It’s good to see you,” he says, giving you little time to answer his questions. 

Your answer is quiet, but not without genuineness. “It’s good to see you too, Aaron.” 

“And you’re alright?” 

“I’m fine.” You offer a smile that melts him to the bone, has him thinking oh, maybe I’m in more trouble than I first thought. “I start my new job on Monday.”

“Really? Where are you working?” 

Before he’s realised, you and Aaron have spent a half an hour standing in one place. Not the kind of chatter you can’t get away from: he is delighting in making you smile, and then laugh. If you weren’t Spencer’s sister, if he hadn’t just saved you from an untimely suitor, Aaron believes he’s grown enough to ask you out, making his intentions and affections clear, because you’re very cute. But you are Spencer’s sister, and you’d already found yourself trapped today by somebody who couldn’t take a hint. 

“Sorry,” you’re saying, “I’ve kept you,” and you’re still flustered, but it’s more of a glow now than a frazzled halo, beaming delight at holding his attention. If you only knew. “I’ll leave you to finish your shopping.” 

“It’s alright, I kept you too.” 

“Do you have a busy day?” you ask. 

“Not really. I have to pick Jack up later… But nothing else.” 

You both seem to teeter on the edge of the question, the possibility of what he could ask you, or what you could ask him if you weren’t so shy. He knows you won’t be able to. 

You let the quiet settle for just long enough for Aaron to know what you want. Spencer’s sister and invented marriage included. You aren’t making conversation and neither is he, because… 

“Would you want to grab a coffee?” he asks, chipper, to mask his nerves. 

You smile shyly. Your eyes dart to his hands, reminding him suddenly of the you he’d met years ago, timid sweetheart just a few years older than her genius brother and used to hiding in his shadow regardless, Gideon’s reluctantly amused observation: She’s sweet on you?

You aren’t as all-consumingly timid now. Still shy. Still sweet on him, it seems. “Yes,” you say, meeting his eyes from under lashes he’d like to feel beneath his fingertip, “I want to.” 

[powderpinkprincess]

Curls [Lando Norris x reader]

Description: Lando doesn’t like his hair as much as you do. Warnings: language

Lando wasn’t the type of person to complain a lot. Or at least not when cameras or microphones were involved. Social media often didn’t understand that despite being fortunate enough to race in Formula 1, he still had his own problems, just like everyone else did.

For starters, he wasn’t the most chill guy when he was under significant pressure, and race weekends definitely weren’t relaxing for him. He could barely eat, he often forgot to drink until he got a headache, and everything annoyed him.

When you found him, he was fixing his hair in the reflection of something on the wall that wasn’t even a mirror.

 “Looking good, baby,” you commented with a smile as you approached him, holding a bottle of water.

He just rolled his eyes. “Yeah. My hair is so fucking annoying again.”

 “Why are you saying that? I love your curls,” you pouted immediately.

 “I know that,” he glared at his reflection. “It’s a damn curse though, there is never a weather that won’t make it look like a disaster. It’s just fucking everywhere, man.”

You held out the water bottle before he could continue. He was probably dehydrated again.

 “Thanks,” he sighed. He took a small sip and placed the cap back on the bottle.

 “Are you serious? It’s melting hot out there, and you’ll be driving within an hour,” you scolded him. “Drink it up before you get dizzy again.”

You knew he didn’t like being babied, but sometimes there was no other way to get him to do whatever was good for him. He was too focused on being the best between the best.

He just sighed, and his glance wandered to his reflection again. “Damn it, seriously.”

 "It looks fine," you spoke again, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

He was still examining his hair with his eyes. “Yeah? I don’t think so. I look like a freaking sheep.”

 “I love sheep.”

He just gave you an exasperated look before turning back to the bottle in his hand, opening it again to take another, much longer, sip.

 “I look like a muppet,” he mumbled after a moment of silence, just when you thought he was finally over it.

 "Lando," you raised your voice a little. "Quit it. You look fine. Everyone thinks you look fine. And you'll wear a helmet in not even an hour."

 "I mean, but the helmet also ruins my hair, and then I won't be looking fine anymore," he responded, taking a few steps forward, so he was standing right in front of you.

 “Oh my god,” you sighed.

 “Can I have that?” he asked, and he was ready to take the McLaren cap off your head, but you quickly caught his hand.

 “What are you doing?” you argued immediately.

 “I just need that for, like, five minutes,” he tried to justify as trying to wriggle his hand out of your grip.

 "No way, it's mine," you shook your head. "Go get your own, you have so many."

 “But I need one now,” he protested, his glance falling from your cap to your eyes.

 “But why?”

 “I can't go around the paddock without a cap,” he responded as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Your eyes widened in disbelief. "You just did though. You didn't wear one all morning!"

 “Yeah, and now I do. I just need it.” He finally managed to twist out of your grip, and the next moment, he already had the cap in his hand, about to put it on.

You just watched him and gave up. You shook your head, but you couldn't help the small smirk on your lips. "You're unbelievable."

He put the cap on his head with a satisfied smile, adjusting it a little before he looked back at you. "And yet you're still here."

Of course, you were.

You took a step closer and kissed him the way you knew he liked it. As he wrapped his hands around your waist, you took the opportunity and quickly snatched the cap off.

Before he could protest, you ran your fingers through his hair and smiled. "I love your curls. Really."

 “Oh, come on,” he mumbled, but he didn’t put up too much of a fight. He secretly enjoyed your touch.

You placed the cap back on his head and gave another peck on his lips. "There you go."

 “Thank you. I look better in it anyway,” he teased, and you automatically rolled your eyes.

 “You know how to ruin a romantic moment, Norris,” you laughed as you stepped back a little. “Go, destroy the others out there. And don’t forget to drink. And if you throw my cap into the crowd, I will find you.”

His smile widened into a grin and he blew you a kiss before he walked away.

[luvhughes43]

celebrity crush | luke hughes

[luvhughes43 masterlist🌙]

face claim: 1x grammy winning artist tyla

note: i also found this in my drafts from last year😭 apologies for the grammar mistakes ive grown since writing this i swear

summary: luke has a celebrity crush... who may just like him back

ever since luke saw the videos and pictures of you winning your first grammy he was hooked. you were insanely gorgeous, and your singing was just out of this world. he couldn't lie and say that he hadn't watched your water music video on repeat, he was drawn to you in a way he had never been with anyone before.

his whole family knew about his poorly-hidden crush. every time one of your songs would come on the radio jack would smirk and say some stupid comment, and quinn would send luke links to your instagram posts with comments like "your gf just posted!". his parents were kind about it, but they weren't immune to the "she's gorgeous! you should message her!" comments.

if he could he would, he just knew that there was no way you would ever go for him. you were just too damn good.

ynuser

liked by lhughes_06, victoriamonet, and 167 438 others

ynuser some exciting things are coming soon<3

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victoriamonet stunning🤎

user01 why'd luke hughes like this? 😭

user02 because shes hot af and hes a man ?

user03 luke liking this? ohhh i got his tea

user04 love u sm yn!!! youre so insanely talented

now you couldn't lie, after seeing all the comments about luke hughes left on your insta post, you googled him! the first search that popped up was a questions video posted by his nhl team.

"who's your celebrity crush?" the girl behind the camera asks. there were a bunch of different answers, margot robbie, megan fox, jenna ortega... but then the curly hair boy walked into frame.

"who's your celebrity crush?" the girl repeats, and luke blushes before answering, "okay, i'll answer this one"

"my celebrity crush is for sure y/n," he responds with a grin on his face and somebody who must know him really well playfully rolls their eyes as they stride up beside him.

when your screen goes black you pause and take in what you just saw. you replay the video, this time skipping to lukes part, and assess. he was hot and just your type.

while feeling bold, you search luke on instagram and send him a short message: saw your video. im in nj next week for a show, wanna meet up?

ynuser

liked by jackhughes, lhughes_06, victoriamonet, and 108 935 others

ynuser thank u nyc u were a dream! see u next week nj✨

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user05 STUNNING

user06 prettiest girl in the world

user07 both luke and jack liking this? tf is going on🤨

luke wakes up early for practice, something he always likes to do. jack was always loud in the morning and so by waking up early he had some peace and quietly run though his routine.

luke blindly feels around his night stand for his phone as he did all mornings. he scrolls through his notifications, nothing catching his immediate attention. snapchats from friends, instagram tags, a few text messages... nothing out of the ordinary.

he checks instagram first as he likes to do his daily scroll through his feed. he likes a few posts from various sports accounts, before deciding to look through his dms for fun. there were two types of dms, girls tagging him in their stories, or random brands asking for partnerships.

ynuser sent you a message request

luke blinks before slowly tapping accept on the request.

yn: saw your video. im in nj next week for a show, wanna meet up?

...

"what the fuck??" luke shouts, and a second later jack is barging through his door.

"what! what are you screaming about?" hes on edge, sending quick glances around lukes bedroom to try and find the danger.

"she messaged me!"

jack pauses, slowly bringing his gaze back to his brother. "you screamed because a girl... messaged you?"

"yn dmed me!" he replies, and jack immediately perks up.

"theres no way! show me," jack says enthusiastically as he walks over and stares at lukes phone. "she saw the question video? thats insane luck,"

luke just stares at the dm, completely overwhelmed but also at a loss for words. like, of course he wants to meet yn but how does he respond in a cool way? especially when he was freaking out so much.

"what do i say?"

jack stares again, confused as to how luke has no game. "tell her yes?"

"right, okay," luke nods his head. he doesnt start typing right away, and just looks at him blankly. "i cant text back with u standing right there,"

jack laughs before waving his little brother off. "thanks for waking me up,"

"youre welcome! shut the door," luke jokes distractedly. there is no way this is real life.

ynuser

liked by lhughes_06, sabrinacarpenter, and 126 034 others

ynuser nj you guys are incredible ❤️‍🔥

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user08 luke liking again...

user09 can u blame him? look at her shes so pretty

user10 YOU WERE INSANEEEE ILY

obviously, luke messaged you back and the two of you decided to meet after your first show. you gave him the details of how to meet you backstage, and he had no issues getting through security.

"hey! it's nice to meet you," luke greets you easily. he's a little nervous but he hides it well. there was no way he was going to mess up this introduction.

"hey! i'm y/n," you introduce yourself even though you know luke already knows who you are. "i hope you liked the show!"

"it was - yah it was great," luke responds, and your chest fills with excitement. "i loved it all really, you have such a good voice,"

"thank youuu," youre giggly. gosh he was so cute... his curls look well taken care of, and he's dressed in a clean quarter-zip sweater and a nice pair of jeans. "uh, did you wanna go out to eat or something?" you ask, absolutely starving from your show. you had a break from touring after tonight, so you were free to spend as much time with luke as you wanted.

you were surprised by how quick you got along with luke. you spent most of the night talking over fries and milkshakes, before he took you around the city to show you his favourite spots - most of which were closed at this hour.

"i'm really having fun," you laugh at one of lukes jokes. you can't remember the last time you just wandered around a city and hung out. lately, your life was filled with recording sessions, photoshoots, promotion, and now of course your tour. you wouldnt trade your job for the world but sometimes having your career be your whole life, was a lot.

"i'm having a lot of fun too," luke replies, and the two of you giggle awkwardly as you continue cruising in his car.

when the night reluctantly ends and luke drops you off at your hotel, you insist on exchanging numbers.

ynuser

liked by lhughes_06, _quinnhughes, arianagrande, and 159 025 others

ynuser beach girl

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user11 PRETTIEST GIRL IN THE WORLD!!

user12 luke liking less than a minute after u posted... hes not even trying to hide his crush!

you and luke stayed in touch, never going more than a few days without texting each other. somehow, both of your busy schedules worked out in your favours and you were surprisingly able to relate to each other on a lot of levels.

you guys hung out whenever you were in the same cities, and when your tour was over and luke was heading into the off-season, you two made plans to hang out during the summer as friends.

lhughes_06

liked by _quinnhughes, jackhughes, dylanduke25, and 98 126 others

lhughes_06 Who knew one little video would lead us here?❤️

tagged: ynuser

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trevorzegras didnt know u had it in you

jackhughes worlds most insane pull

_quinnhughes congrats guys!

dylanduke25 respectfully when can i meet her?

user13 YN AND LUKE????

user14 lukes dating yn??? the girl who sang water... the grammy winning artist... the prettiest girl there is... omfg

user15 OMFG??????

user16 shes jawdroppingly gorgeous omfg

user17 need a bf to take pics of me like this so bad

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[sherewrytes]

WHAT THESE BITCHES WANT FROM A NIGGA

Cause i missed writting for Ony outside of Love and Gunshots

here is a lil fic inspired by me listening to way to much DMX songs

this def gonna have a part two

The studio was alive with energy. The faint hum of a beat looped through the speakers, low enough to talk over but loud enough to keep the vibe right. Smoke curled through the air, the scent of something strong lingering as laughter bounced between the walls.

Eren sat at the mixing board, lazily twisting a knob as he leaned back in his chair, watching the session unfold. Armin stood nearby, scrolling through his phone, probably looking at projections or some business report none of them cared to hear about right now.

Connie was perched on the couch, a blunt tucked behind his ear, grinning as he scrolled through his notifications. He tapped his screen, shaking his head. "Man, they got Twitter goin' crazy right now. They swear me and Ony got a track droppin’."

Onyankopon sat in the corner, quiet but listening, one hand draped over his knee while the other nursed a bottle of water. He wasn’t much for social media, but he already knew what they were saying. His name stayed in people’s mouths—sometimes for music, sometimes for… other things.

“Let ’em talk,” Ony muttered. “Ain’t nobody confirm nothin’.”

Connie smirked. “Yeah, but you know how this industry work. Rumors turn into facts real quick.”

Eren chuckled. “Ain’t that the truth.” He nudged Armin. “Yo, business man, how we capitalizing off this?”

Armin didn’t look up from his phone. “By actually finishing the song, maybe?”

That got a laugh out of everyone except Ony, who only shook his head.

Then Mikasa spoke up, cutting through the noise like she always did. “Speaking of rumors,” she said, arms crossed, “you got an interview tomorrow, Ony.”

Ony’s face stayed unreadable, but his response was instant. “Nah, I ain’t doin’ all that.”

Mikasa barely blinked. “It’s already booked.”

“So? Cancel it.”

“Not happening.”

Ony exhaled through his nose, irritation creeping into his voice. “What for? I already know what they gon’ ask me. Same bullshit—‘What’s the album about?’ ‘What’s your process?’ ‘How many women you really got on rotation?’” He shook his head. “Tired of that shit.”

Mikasa stared him down, unmoved. “Then maybe you should be more careful about what you let people say about you.”

A sharp silence filled the room. Even Eren glanced up at that.

Ony ran a hand over his face, about to argue again, when Mikasa tilted her head and added—

“It’s with Y/N L/N.”

Everything stopped for a beat.

Ony didn’t say anything at first, but the slight hesitation—the way his fingers curled just a little tighter around his water bottle—didn’t go unnoticed.

Connie definitely noticed.

His eyes flicked to Ony, then back to Mikasa, and a slow grin stretched across his face. “Ohhh.” He dragged the word out, leaning forward with too much interest. “Now that’s interesting.”

Eren smirked. “Damn, bro. That name mean somethin’ to you?”

Ony scoffed, shaking his head. “Nah. Ain’t even like that.”

But the way he avoided looking at anybody said otherwise.

Mikasa, as usual, wasn’t here for the games. “Good,” she said flatly. “Then you won’t have a problem showing up.”

Ony didn’t respond right away. He just leaned back, tapping his fingers against his knee, thoughts running deeper than he let on.

Connie, watching him closely, only grinned wider. “Yeah… this gon’ be real interesting.”

The room settled back into a familiar rhythm, but there was a shift now—something hanging in the air that hadn’t been there before.

Ony leaned back, his jaw tight, tapping a slow rhythm against his knee while Connie watched him like he had the biggest secret in the world.

Eren, never one to let a moment slip by, chuckled as he twisted a few knobs on the soundboard. “Damn, I ain’t never seen you this quiet before, bro.”

Ony shot him a look. “Man, shut up.”

That only made Connie laugh harder. “Nah, ‘cause now I’m real curious. You of all people ain’t tryna do an interview? And with her?” He whistled low, shaking his head. “Secrets must be somethin’ serious.”

Ony exhaled sharply but didn’t take the bait. Instead, he stood up, rolling his shoulders like he was shaking something off. “Man, let’s just work.”

Eren smirked, already cuing up the beat. “Yeah, yeah. Time to put in work, big dog.”

The opening bassline hit, vibrating through the speakers, heavy and raw. The track was built for Ony—gritty, aggressive, something that hit you straight in the chest. And then Connie’s smooth, melodic touch came in, making the whole thing feel effortless.

Ony grabbed the headphones off the stand and adjusted the mic. He didn’t need the lyrics in front of him—he’d already been running the bars through his head all day.

Eren gave a nod from behind the glass. “Aight, run it from the top.”

The track kicked in fully, the instrumental pulsing. Connie stepped up first, his voice sliding in smooth:

🎶 "Uh… yeah." 🎶

He grinned, letting the words stretch out as he found the groove.

🎶 "What these women want from a nigga? Everybody askin’…" 🎶

Eren bobbed his head, already feeling it. Armin leaned back, watching with his usual calculating gaze, while Mikasa stayed posted by the door, arms crossed, as if mentally balancing business with personal bullshit.

Then Ony came in.

🎶 "What these women want from a nigga? Shit, I been tryna figure that out myself." 🎶

His voice was low, raspy—commanding. He wasn’t just rapping, he was telling a story.

🎶 "What these women want from a nigga? They love the name, but they don’t know the life." 🎶

The way he delivered it was cold, almost detached—like a man laying out facts, no sugarcoating. Connie picked up his cue, adding another layer to the track, his voice dripping with the kind of confidence that made women weak.

🎶 "Break ‘em off somethin’… Oh yeah, and by the way, it’s the N-Tity!" 🎶

Connie hit that perfect balance of cocky and smooth, grinning as he leaned back from the mic.

Eren let the beat ride for a second before cutting the track. The room sat in silence for a beat before Armin finally spoke.

“Yeah,” he nodded, impressed. “That’s gonna be a problem.”

Connie snickered. “You mean a hit?”

“Same thing.”

Ony pulled the headphones off, setting them back on the stand. The energy was right, the track was solid—but his mind was already somewhere else.

And Connie knew it.

He waited a moment before casually saying, “You know, I bet Y/N gon’ have a lot of questions about this one.”

Ony stilled for half a second. Then he shook his head, grabbing his water bottle. “Man, shut the hell up.”

Connie just grinned, stretching back on the couch. “Nah, I’m just sayin’… interviews get real personal sometimes.”

Eren chuckled under his breath. Armin smirked. Even Mikasa looked like she was holding back a comment.

Ony exhaled, rubbing his jaw. This interview was already getting on his nerves—and it hadn’t even happened yet.

Ony cracked his neck, rolling his shoulders like he was shaking something off. “Run it back.”

Eren didn’t even question it. He just reset the track, the bass creeping in again, that same grimy, no-nonsense energy filling the room.

Ony stepped up to the mic, gripping it like he had something to prove—not to them, but to himself.

🎶 "Come on, ma, you know I got a wife, And even though that pussy tight, I'm not gon' jeopardize my life—AIGHT?" 🎶

His voice hit harder this time, more raw, like he was talking directly to somebody.

🎶 "So what is it you want from a nigga?" 🎶

Connie, still chilling on the couch, let out a low “What?” in the background, matching Ony’s tone.

🎶 "I gave you; you gave me—" 🎶

Then Ony snapped, voice sharper—

🎶 "BITCH!" 🎶

Eren raised an eyebrow but said nothing, nodding along.

🎶 "I blazed you, you blazed me—COME ON!" 🎶

Connie grinned, chiming in smooth, “Yeah, yeah…”

Ony’s delivery was cold, every bar landing like a warning.

🎶 "Nothin’ more, nothin’ less, But you at my door willing to confess—" 🎶

Connie, right on cue: “Yeah, yeah…”

🎶 "That it’s the best you ever tested—" 🎶

🎶 "Aight!"—Connie crooned, voice buttery smooth.

Ony smirked a little, but his tone stayed ruthless.

🎶 "Better than all the rest, I'm like, 'Aight, girlfriend, hold up—'"

Connie jumped in again, sliding in that signature R&B swag—

🎶 "Tell me…"

And Ony closed it out, dropping the last line like a hammer—

🎶 "I gave you what you gave me, boo—a NUT!" 🎶

Eren cut the beat again, sitting back with a low whistle. “Sheesh.”

Armin smirked, clearly amused. “Well… that was direct.”

Connie laughed, throwing his arm over the back of the couch. “Nah, that shit was real.” He turned to Ony, smirking. “Yo, you think Y/N gon’ bring this up in the interview?”

Ony exhaled, rubbing his jaw. “Man, shut the hell up.”

That only made Connie laugh harder. “What? You know she gon’ ask you what these women really want.”

Eren smirked. “Hope you got a good answer ready.”

Ony didn’t respond, just grabbed his water bottle and took a slow sip, trying to act unbothered.

But everybody in the room knew better.

Mikasa, arms still crossed, gave Ony and Connie a sharp nod. “Run the chorus and the next verse for me.”

She wasn’t asking.

Eren smirked, pressing a button on the board. “Aight, y’all heard the boss lady.”

Connie rolled his shoulders, stepping back up to the mic. Ony exhaled through his nose, adjusting his stance.

The track restarted.

This time, the energy was locked in.

🎶 "What these bitches want from a nigga?" 🎶

Ony’s voice was rough, carrying that weight, that grit.

🎶 "What you want? (What you want?) What these bitches want from a nigga?" 🎶

Connie’s voice slipped in smooth, bouncing off Ony’s rawness, giving the chorus its perfect contrast.

🎶 "Really want… What these bitches want from a nigga? Shawty, I keep you up on it, Bling-blingin', all that jewelry, girl, I bought it—" 🎶

His voice dipped into a slick melody, smooth enough to make anybody believe every word.

🎶 "What these bitches want from a nigga? Ayo, tell me what you want from me… Baby, tell me what you want from me (so what you want?)” 🎶

The chorus hit hard, the beat knocking heavy behind their voices.

And just like that—Ony slid into his verse, zero hesitation.

🎶 "There was Brenda, Latisha (uh), Linda, Felicia (okay), Dawn, LeShaun, Ines, and Alicia (ooh)—" 🎶

Armin let out a low whistle under his breath.

🎶 "Teresa, Monica, Sharon, Nicki (uh-huh), Lisa, Veronica, Karen, Vicky —" 🎶

Connie couldn’t help but react. “Damn.”

🎶 "Cookie, well, I met her in a ice cream parlor (right), Tonya, Diane, Lori, and Carla (okay)—" 🎶

Mikasa’s expression stayed unreadable, but Eren was grinning behind the glass.

🎶 "Marina (uh), Selena (uh), Katrina (uh), Sabrina (uh), About three Kims (what?), LaToya and Tina—" 🎶

Connie leaned in, adding his smooth “Woo~” to the track.

🎶 "Shelley, Bridget, Cathy, Rasheeda (uh-huh), Kelly, Nicole, Angel, Juanita—" 🎶

🎶 “Damn.”—Connie again, his voice dripping with amusement.

🎶 "Stacy, Tracie, Rohna, and Ronda (what?), Donna, Yolanda (what?), Tawana, and Wanda (what?)—" 🎶

Ony’s voice was relentless, pushing each name out with weight, like a roll call of his past.

🎶 "Were all treated fairly, but yet and still, Bitches is on some other shit now that I'm fuckin' with Dru Hill—" 🎶

🎶 "But I'ma keep it real (what?), What the fuck you want from a nigga? What the fuck you want from a nigga? (Yeah!)" 🎶

Silence.

Then—

Armin smirked, shaking his head. “This is definitely gonna stir up some shit.”

Connie let out a loud laugh, clapping his hands together. “Oh yeah, bro.”

Eren leaned back in his chair, smirking. “Matter fact, This shit gonna be a hit.”

Ony stayed quiet for a second, his jaw clenching just slightly.

Then, with all the calm in the world, he grabbed his water bottle, twisted the cap, and took a slow sip.

“Man,” he muttered, voice low, “y’all talk too much.”

The beat faded out.

Eren leaned back, nodding to himself. “That’s a wrap.”

Ony pulled the headphones off, tossing them onto the stand. “We done?”

Mikasa, arms crossed, nodded. “For now.” She glanced down at her phone. “I pushed back the interview until the song drops.”

Ony gave her a look. “For what?”

“So you actually have something to promote.”

Ony scoffed, shaking his head. “Man, I ain’t polishing shit. It stays as is.”

Armin, still lounging in the chair by the console, shrugged. “It’s fine.”

Mikasa rolled her eyes but didn’t argue. She already knew how this went. Ony was stubborn, but so was she—so if anything needed tweaking, he’d come around eventually.

For now, the session was over.

Everybody started to relax, stretching out after being locked in the booth for hours. Connie, already making himself comfortable, sprawled out on the couch, phone in hand. “Yo, I ordered food. Should be here in like twenty.”

“Bet,” Eren muttered, lighting a blunt.

Armin was already on his laptop, typing away, probably lining up the rollout for the track. Mikasa was texting, handling business as usual.

Ony sat back in his chair, exhaling.

That should’ve been the end of it.

But then—he noticed how Connie was smirking at his phone, thumbs moving fast.

“Who you texting?” Ony asked, side-eyeing him.

Connie didn’t even look up. “Nobody.”

Ony lifted his chin. “Lyin’ ass.”

Eren chuckled, passing him the blunt. “If he grinnin’ like that, it’s either money… or a woman.”

Ony took a slow pull, watching Connie. “Yeah. So which one is it?”

Connie finally looked up, mischief all over his face. Then, with zero hesitation—

“Y/N.”

Ony exhaled, smoke curling past his lips. His grip on the blunt tightened just a little.

Connie grinned. “She asked how the session went.”

Ony didn’t say a word at first. Just took another slow drag, the blunt burning between his fingers.

But Connie? Connie was watching him real close.

Then, just like that—

He burst out laughing.

“Ayo—” Connie wiped a fake tear from his eye. “Ain’t no way you just made that face.”

Ony side-eyed him. “Man, shut the fuck up.”

“Nah, nah, nah—” Connie was still grinning, way too amused. “You was lookin’ real sick for a second there.”

Eren smirked but kept quiet. Armin glanced up from his laptop, peeping the shift in energy. Even Mikasa glanced up from her phone, side-eyeing them.

But Connie? He was still on Ony’s head.

“Ain’t my fault you let the game pull you from the chick you loved.”

Silence.

Ony exhaled through his nose, tapping the blunt against the tray, knocking the ash loose. Then, low as hell—barely above a mumble—

“Love.”

Connie’s smirk faltered for a split second.

Ony took another pull, jaw tight.

That was all he said.

But Connie caught it.

And for once, he didn’t joke.

Instead, he just went back to his phone, replying to Y/N.

Text Conversation: Connie & Y/N 📱 Y/N: Yo. How’d the session go?

📱 Connie: Shit was fire, as expected.

📱 Connie: Ya boy Ony was in his bag lmfao.

📱 Y/N: Oh? 👀

📱 Connie: Yeah, you gon’ have a LOT to ask about in that interview, trust.

📱 Y/N: Lmao don’t play w/ me.

📱 Y/N: That bad??

📱 Connie: Let’s just say… a WHOLE lotta names got mentioned tonight.

📱 Y/N: Names?

📱 Y/N: …Wait. Like, WOMEN’S names?

📱 Connie: 👀

📱 Connie: I mean, yeah. A whole roll call.

📱 Y/N: …Lemme find out Ony still on that type of time.

📱 Connie: Lmaooo. Ayo, you sound a lil mad. You good?

📱 Y/N: Boy, bye. 🙄

📱 Connie: Nah nah nah, that was hella quick. You sure you ain’t a lil heated?

📱 Y/N: AINT NOBODY WORRIED ABOUT THAT MAN.

📱 Connie: Mhm. Keep tellin’ yourself that.

📱 Y/N: I hope his player ass got media trained bc I’m asking everything.

📱 Connie: Oh, I KNOW. 😭

📱 Connie: Matter fact…

📱 Connie: I lowkey wish I could see his face when you do.

📱 Y/N: Lmao, be serious.

📱 Connie: I am serious. This man paused for a whole five seconds when Mikasa said your name.

📱 Y/N: Stop lying.

📱 Connie: I’d never lie to you, ma. 😇

📱 Y/N: Boy, you a whole menace.

📱 Connie: And yet, you still texting me. Interesting. 🤔

📱 Y/N: Bye.

📱 Connie: Lmaoooo.

YN POV

Y/N stared at her phone, Connie’s last message still sitting there.

I’d never lie to you, ma. 😇

Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, debating if she even wanted to reply.

Five seconds? Ony paused for five whole seconds when he heard her name?

That was not normal.

And the fact that Connie clocked it immediately meant he knew it wasn’t normal either.

Y/N sucked her teeth, flopping back against her couch. She didn’t know why she was letting this get to her. She was over that whole situation. Ony was a memory, an old chapter she’d already closed.

…Right?

She sighed, running a hand down her face.

She should’ve known Connie was gonna be messy.

But then again…

Maybe this was karma.

After all, she was about to interview Ony about his player reputation.

And if anyone knew the truth behind that rep?

It was her.

Because she was there before the fame.

Before the rumors.

Before the women whose names he just rapped in the booth like they were nothing.

Flashback: Back When It Was Just “O” and Y/N

Years ago—before the money, before the music, before the world knew Ony’s name—he was just “O” to her.

And back then?

She swore she was the only girl that mattered to him.

They weren’t official—not really. They never put a title on it. But she was his, and he was hers, in the way that counted.

Or at least… that’s what she thought.

She still remembered the way he looked at her, like she was the only thing worth seeing. The way his voice softened when it was just the two of them. The way he held her like he was scared to let go.

But then…

He let go.

And she never really understood why.

One day, it was all good. The next? He was distant. Late replies. Excuses. Promises he didn’t keep.

Then the rumors started.

And when she finally asked him about it—when she looked him dead in his eyes and asked if the whispers were true—

All she got was a long pause.

And silence said everything.

That’s when she walked away.

And Ony?

He let her.

Back in the Present

Y/N blinked back into reality, jaw tight.

Yeah.

She had a lot of questions for Ony.

And come interview day?

He was gonna answer every single one.

Ony took another pull from his blunt, letting the smoke burn slow in his chest. The studio session was done, but his mind was still running. Not on the track. Not on the rollout.

On her.

Y/N.

Hearing her name after all this time? That was the last thing he expected.

And pausing for five seconds? Yeah, that was a slip-up.

Connie caught that shit fast, too.

That’s why he laughed like it was funny. Like it wasn’t real. Like Ony wasn’t still thinking about the last time he saw Y/N—the last time he let himself look at her.

Like he wasn’t the one who let her go.

He knew exactly what he lost. And if he was being honest?

He lost her on purpose.

Flashback: When Ony Walked Away

Y/N always knew how to get to him. Always knew how to make him feel like he could be more than what the world saw him as.

And for a minute, he let himself believe it.

That they could work. That he could have her and still chase this dream.

But the bigger he got, the more the streets started talking. And Ony had been in the game long enough to know one thing:

Loyalty doesn’t mean shit in this industry.

He wasn’t reckless, wasn’t running around like people said. But he knew how the whispers sounded. How they’d make Y/N look at him different, whether they were true or not.

And instead of waiting for her to see him like that—

He made the call first.

“Yo, I just think we need space,” he told her one night, his voice steady, even though his chest was tight as hell.

Y/N’s face twisted. “Space? Since when?”

He exhaled slow. “Since now.”

That should’ve been it.

But it was Y/N.

And she didn’t just let things go.

“Nah, don’t do that,” she said, stepping closer. “You think I don’t see through that bullshit? What’s really going on, O?”

He swallowed hard, jaw locking. “Nothing.”

“Nothing?” she repeated, eyes searching his. “So you just—what? You just woke up and decided we’re done?”

“Somethin’ like that.”

Y/N scoffed, stepping back like she finally understood.

“Wow,” she muttered, shaking her head. “You’re really doing this.”

He didn’t say anything.

Because what the fuck was he supposed to say?

That he was scared? That he didn’t want her caught up in the mess his life was turning into? That he cared too much to let her stick around?

She deserved better than that.

Better than him.

So he let her go.

And Y/N?

She didn’t chase him.

She just left.

And now, years later, she was about to walk back into his life.

And for the first time in a long time—

Ony didn’t know if he was ready.

Y/N

Y/N stabbed her straw through her drink, her foot bouncing under the table. Across from her, Sasha was grinning like she just won a bet.

“You nervous?” Sasha asked, sipping her lemonade.

Y/N scoffed. “Nervous? For what?”

Sasha shrugged. “Dunno. Maybe ‘cause you’re about to see the man who broke your heart?”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “He didn’t break my heart.”

Sasha lifted a brow. “So if I text Connie right now and ask what Ony’s reaction was when he heard your name, what you think he gon’ say?”

Y/N went silent.

Sasha smirked. “Yeah. That’s what I thought.”

Y/N sighed, leaning back in her chair. “It’s not even like that.”

“Then what’s it like?”

“It’s… history,” Y/N muttered. “It’s old. And it doesn’t matter anymore.”

Sasha gave her a look. “Mhm. So that’s why you over here stirring your drink like it personally offended you?”

Y/N stopped moving.

Sasha laughed. “Babe. If you really didn’t care, you wouldn’t be acting like this.”

Y/N opened her mouth, then shut it again.

Because the truth?

Sasha was right.

She did care.

And that was exactly the problem.

The booth was hot, filled with the lingering scent of smoke and whatever cologne Ony had thrown on that morning. The speakers were thumping, bass rattling the walls as Armin adjusted levels on the mix.

It was supposed to be just another studio session. Another day in the life.

But Connie?

He had other plans.

Ony was posted up on the couch, blunt in one hand, phone in the other, scrolling like he wasn’t paying attention. Mikasa was flipping through notes, probably planning shit out for the next rollout.

Eren leaned back in his chair, dragging a hand down his face. “We tryna work or we just chillin’?”

Connie grinned, stretching his arms behind his head. “Damn, my bad, big boss. Didn’t know we was on the clock.”

Eren shot him a look. “ Bro please, we always on the clock.”

Connie waved him off, turning to Ony instead.

“So… you ever gon’ talk about it?”

Ony exhaled slow. “Talk about what?”

Connie’s grin widened. “You know what.”

Mikasa didn’t even look up. “Leave it alone, Connie.”

“Nah, I just think it’s funny.” Connie sat forward, eyes locked on Ony. “How you been out here, big dog—big Ony—but one name got you stuck?”

Ony’s grip on his phone tightened. “Ain’t nobody stuck.”

Connie chuckled. “Right. That why you got so quiet yesterday?”

Ony didn’t reply. Just took another slow drag, eyes locked on the table in front of him.

Connie leaned back with a smirk. “I mean, if it was me—”

“Good thing it ain’t,” Ony muttered.

Connie threw his hands up. “Damn, my bad! Didn’t know it was a sensitive subject.”

Eren shook his head. “You real messy, you know that?”

Connie just laughed. “Shit, somebody gotta keep it interesting.”

Mikasa sighed. “Can we work now?”

Ony didn’t say anything. Just exhaled smoke, let his head rest against the couch.

He wasn’t stuck.

He was just thinking.

And the more Connie ran his mouth?

The harder it was to stop.

Connie tapped his fingers against his knee, watching Ony with that same smug grin.

“So what you gon’ do when you see her?”

Ony exhaled, slow and steady. “Ain’t gon’ do shit.”

Connie raised a brow. “Oh, word?”

Ony didn’t even look up. “Word.”

Connie snorted. “Man, please. You ain’t even slick. The moment Mikasa said her name, you got real quiet.”

Ony finally glanced up, jaw tight. “You still talkin’?”

Connie shrugged. “I mean, it’s funny. Big Ony, unbothered Ony, the same nigga who don’t let nobody get in his head, but—”

Ony cut him off. “You bored, huh?”

Connie grinned. “A lil’ bit.”

Ony shook his head, smirking just a little. “Niggas get one R&B hit and start feelin’ real bold.”

That made Eren laugh. Even Armin cracked a smile.

But Connie?

He just leaned forward, elbows on his knees.

“Aite, bet,” Connie said, still smirking. “If you don’t choke up when you see Y/N after the rollout for your interview next Thursday, I’ll drop it.”

Ony’s expression stayed neutral. “And if I do?”

Connie grinned wider. “Then I get to talk my shit forever.”

Ony sucked his teeth. “Nigga, you already do that.”

“Yeah, but this time, I’d be right.”

Ony shook his head. “Whatever, man.”

“Nah, say it,” Connie pushed. “We got a deal?”

Ony sighed, flicking ash off his blunt. Then he met Connie’s eyes, voice calm.

“Bet.”

The studio air was thick—weed smoke, bass vibrations, and unspoken shit that sat heavy between Ony and Connie. The bet had been made, and Ony wasn’t the type to back out, but the way Connie was watching him, all smug and knowing, made his blood heat just a little.

Eren twisted in his chair, adjusting the levels on the console. “Aight, we running this from the top?”

Ony pulled the mic stand closer, rolling his shoulders. “Yeah.”

Connie cracked his neck and stepped up beside him. “Try not to get too distracted, big dawg.”

Ony shot him a side glance. “Try not to do too much, R&B ass nigga.”

Connie laughed, stepping back as Eren cued up the beat. The heavy bass dropped, shaking the room, and just like that—they were locked in.

Ony didn’t hesitate when his cue hit, voice sliding into the rhythm, sharp and commanding.

"Come on, ma, you know I got a wife…"

His words hit with weight, the flow raw, guttural. Connie fed off that energy, bouncing on his heels before coming in smooth, vocals slipping through the beat like silk.

The two of them went back and forth, perfect synergy. Connie’s harmonies laced through Ony’s rough delivery like a blade wrapped in velvet. It was effortless—like they had done this in another lifetime.

By the time the chorus hit, Eren was nodding along, Armin tapped his fingers on his knee, and even Mikasa—who hardly reacted to shit—was watching with sharp eyes.

The track faded, and silence took over, but no one spoke at first.

Then Armin leaned forward, pushing his glasses up. “That’s the one.”

Eren smirked. “Yeah. That’s the one.”

Mikasa crossed her arms. “We’re polishing it.”

Ony exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. “Nah. It stays.”

Mikasa gave him a flat look. “It’s not up for discussion.”

Ony was about to argue, but Armin waved a hand. “It’s fine as is.”

Mikasa rolled her eyes but didn’t push further. She was outnumbered, and she knew it.

The session wrapped, but the energy still crackled in the air. Connie leaned back against the couch, scrolling through his phone like he had nothing to do with the chaos he had just started.

Ony side-eyed him, still catching his breath. “You real quiet now.”

Connie didn’t look up. “Just letting you breathe before I start talkin’ my shit.”

Eren laughed, shaking his head. “You don’t stop talkin’ shit.”

Connie grinned. “And y’all love me for it.”

Ony wasn’t amused. He leaned forward, forearms on his knees. “The bet still stands?”

Connie locked his phone and met Ony’s gaze. “Yeah. Next Thursday.”

Ony took a slow drag from his blunt, exhaling smoke toward the ceiling. “Aight.”

Connie’s grin widened. “That means yes, you gon’ choke up.”

Ony turned his head slowly, eyes dark. “Nigga, I will slap the gel out your head.”

Connie cackled, throwing a pillow at Ony’s face. “Bet.”

Y/N’s POV: Late Night Thoughts

The glow of Y/N’s laptop screen cast shadows across her face, but she wasn’t really looking at it. The email sat open, the words blurring together, but her mind was miles away.

Across from her, Sasha was sprawled out on the couch, chewing on a bag of chips like she wasn’t causing Y/N a migraine.

Sasha side-eyed her. “You been staring at that email for way too long.”

Y/N sighed, dragging a hand down her face. “It’s just an interview.”

Sasha raised a brow. “It’s not just an interview.”

Y/N shut her laptop with a snap. “Sasha.”

“What?”

“Don’t start.”

Sasha grinned. “Start what? I didn’t say shit.”

“You’re thinking it.”

Sasha tossed a chip in her mouth, chewing thoughtfully. “Aight, fine. Let’s say I was thinking something. What exactly do you think I was thinking?”

Y/N shot her a dry look.

Sasha snorted. “Oh my God, just say you’re nervous.”

Y/N huffed. “I’m not nervous.”

Sasha pointed at her with a chip. “Then why you actin’ like the deadline itself is Onyankopon?”

Y/N snatched the bag from her hands.

Sasha let out a dramatic gasp. “Damn. That serious?”

Y/N groaned, leaning back against the couch. “I don’t wanna do this right now.”

Sasha smirked. “Right, right. So when is a good time to unpack the fact that the love of your life—”

Y/N threw the bag back at her. “Don’t start that shit.”

Sasha laughed, catching it with ease. “Fine, fine. But you know I’m right.”

Y/N didn’t answer.

Because deep down, Sasha was right.

And that was the problem.

THE DROP DATE

Twitter/X – 10:47 AM

@REALHipHopTalk: 👀 Ony and Connie really snapped on this track. This some real music.

@bitchwholovesrnb: Connie’s vocals??? Ethereal. Ony slid on that beat like it owed him money.

@notyourbabymama: Y’all hear how Ony was talking on this track??? That nigga got history, LMAO. Somebody broke his soul.

@2Trill4U: Nah, the way they used the OG formula but flipped it into something fresh? This gon’ be in rotation all summer.

@ThirstTrapQueen: Me watching Ony growl his way through the verses like a dog in heat 😩🔥 Sir, I will bark back.

TikTok – 11:23 AM

@TrapScholar (stitching the official music video) 🎶 What these bitches want from a nigga? "—NIGGA, WHO HURT YOU?!"

@RnB4L Connie’s little ‘woo’ ad-lib lives in my head rent free.

@HoodPsychologist POV: You listening to Ony’s verse and realizing this nigga is venting.

(Caption: "Somebody call his therapist.")

@MessyMimi The way Ony said, “Bitch” 😭 That wasn’t in the script. That was personal.

Instagram – 12:02 PM

@TheIndustryPlug (Post: Cover art of the track) 🚨 Ony x Connie – What These Bitches Want (2025 Remix) is officially OUT NOW! 🚨

🔗 Stream it everywhere.

💬 Comments:

🔥 @_TheRealOny: Stay out my business. 🔥 @RNBConnie: 🤣🤣🤣🤣 🔥 @MikasaM: 🤦🏾‍♀️

The studio was way quieter than usual. No crazy bet, no heated back-and-forth—just a chill session with the whole crew vibing.

Ony was leaning back on the couch, blunt in hand, scrolling through his phone. He never cared what people thought of his music, but damn, the reaction had him smirking a little.

Connie, as usual, was living for the attention. He had his phone propped up, live on IG, cheesing while reading the comments. “Damn, y’all nosy as hell,” he laughed, shaking his head.

Eren snorted. “they clocked you mid-breath.”

Connie grinned. “That’s star power, baby.”

Mikasa was sitting near the console, arms crossed. “You two are trending.”

Armin, ever the businessman, was already flipping through analytics on his laptop. “Streams are crazy. We got one million in four hours.”

Ony exhaled smoke, barely reacting. “Cool.”

Connie turned toward him. “Bro, ‘cool’?” He pointed at Armin’s screen. “That’s money.”

Ony shrugged. “It’s what we do.”

Connie sucked his teeth. “You kill my vibe.”

“Not my problem.”

Before Connie could throw a pillow at his head, the studio door swung open.

Sasha walked in, hype as hell, phone in hand. “Y’all SEEING this shit?”

Mikasa sighed. “We’re aware.”

Sasha ignored her, hopping onto the couch beside Connie. “No, ‘cause the way people are picking apart Ony’s verse…” She wiggled her eyebrows, looking straight at Ony.

Ony, unfazed, took another drag. “And?”

Sasha grinned. “And they think you wrote it about somebody.”

The room went quiet.

Eren looked up. Armin shut his laptop. Mikasa sighed again. Connie? Grinning like the devil himself.

Ony rolled his jaw, but he didn’t take the bait. “They think a lot of shit.”

Sasha leaned in. “So they wrong?”

Ony didn’t answer. Just took another hit, eyes locked on his screen.

Connie clapped his hands together. “Aite, y’all know what time it is.”

Ony groaned. “Nigga, shut up.”

Connie laughed. “I would—but you just made this way too fun.”

Y/N sat cross-legged on her bed, phone in one hand, scrolling through Twitter with the other. The TL was on fire.

@notyourbabymama: Nah, Ony was talking to somebody specific on that track. WHO GOT THIS MAN IN HIS FEELINGS?

@2Trill4U: The way this man said “Bitch” like she stole his soul??? 😭

@ThirstTrapQueen: Y’all see how Connie hyped Ony up in the background? That’s a real R&B singer right there.

She snorted, shaking her head. Same internet, same mess.

Then, her phone buzzed.

Connie: 👀 Connie: Lemme know what you think, ma. [🔗 Link to “What These Bitches Want” – Ony x Connie]

Y/N sighed. This nigga…

She hesitated for a second before clicking the link. The song started blasting through her headphones—hard-hitting, raw, and cocky as hell. Connie’s vocals were as smooth as ever, but Ony?

Yeah. That man was spitting venom.

Her stomach twisted. The way he rapped… the way certain lyrics hit? It felt personal.

And then, another notification popped up.

Connie is live now!

Y/N clicked in, and sure enough, there was Connie—lounging in the studio, chain glinting, scrolling through the comments while laughing his ass off.

She smirked. Bet.

@ynlovesfries: Boy, answer your phone.

Connie saw it instantly. “Nahhh, why she in here like she not supposed to be calling me first?” He grinned, shaking his head. “What’s up, trouble?”

@ynlovesfries: Who in trouble?

Connie laughed. “You.”

The comments were eating it up.

🔥 Not y’all arguing like siblings. 🔥 Connie, what you do?? 🔥 Y/N, tell us the tea.

@ynlovesfries: What these bitches want, huh?

Connie hollered. “Ayo, chat, get your girl, man.”

@ynlovesfries: Why Ony sound like he was talkin’ to somebody specific?

Connie gave the camera a knowing look. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Y/N rolled her eyes.

@ynlovesfries: I hate you.

Connie smirked. “Nah, you love me.”

🔥 The chemistry is CRAZY. 🔥 Is Y/N the ex? 👀 🔥 Nah, she know something we don’t.

Y/N snorted, shaking her head. This fool gon’ be annoying all day.

And deep down? She knew he wasn’t gonna let this go.

Connie strolled over and plopped down next to Ony, draping an arm across the couch like he owned the place. The camera caught everything—the dim studio lighting, the way Ony’s diamond earrings and bright-ass chain caught every flicker, making him glow like a damn superstar.

“Aye, Ony,” Connie grinned, eyeing the comments scrolling at light speed. “The ladies say they wanna hear you do that bark you be doin’ in songs.”

Ony, mid-blunt rotation, exhaled slow, thick smoke curling in the air. He side-eyed the camera, his expression unreadable.

The chat exploded.

🔥 NOT THE SIDE EYE OMGGGG 🔥 HIS EARRINGS GLISTENING HE KILLIN ME 🔥 Ony I love you pls just one bark 🔥 WHY IS HE SO FINE FOR NO REASON

Without a word, Ony hit the blunt again, passing it off to Eren, who took it off-camera. He exhaled, voice dropping so deep it damn near rumbled through the mic.

“Why you next to me, Connie?”

CHAOS.

🔥 OH HE KNOW HE FINE LMAOOO 🔥 HIS VOICE JUST PUNCHED ME IN THE CHEST WTF 🔥 HE MAKING EYE CONTACT I CANT BREATHE 🔥 Connie move I wanna sit next to him

Connie threw his head back laughing. “Yo, he got y’all in shambles, man.”

Ony smirked—just barely—then leaned back into the couch, unbothered as hell, while the comments continued losing their minds.

The chat was still losing it over Ony’s deep-ass voice when a new comment popped up.

@ynlovesfries: Ony too cool for the bark now?

Connie’s eyes lit up the second he saw it. “Ayo, nahhh.” He grinned, pointing at the screen. “Look who finally decided to pop in.”

Ony, who had been casually slouched, took a slow sip from his cup—but his shoulders tensed. Just for a second. Blink and you’d miss it.

The comments? Oh, they noticed.

🔥 WHY HE STIFFEN LIKE THAT LMAOOO 🔥 Who is @ynlovesfries and why Ony react like that??? 🔥 That was a GUT REACTION, y’all saw that? 🔥 Oh this some HISTORY HISTORY

Connie was grinning like a man who lived for mess. He turned to Ony. “Ayo, big dog, you got a response or…?”

Ony ignored him. Instead, he grabbed his phone and started scrolling mindlessly, acting like he wasn’t paying attention.

The chat went CRAZY.

🔥 NOT HIM PRETENDING TO BE BUSY 🔥 Boy, we see you! 🔥 WHO IS SHEEEE??

Connie just shook his head, laughing. “Aight, bet. We’ll leave that alone… for now.”

But the way Ony’s jaw flexed?

Yeah. Everybody knew this wasn’t over.

Connie was still going back and forth with Y/N in the comments, laughing at whatever slick response she just sent. The energy was playful, messy—exactly what the chat loved.

Then he hit them with:

“Aye, for the record, she ain’t my girl. We just go way back.” He waved a dismissive hand, eyes still glued to the chat. “I don’t want her busted ass.”

The moment the words left his mouth, Ony—who had been sitting back, real quiet, real unbothered—shifted.

“Watch your mouth.”

Silence.

Connie froze.

The chat? In absolute flames.

🔥 NAHHH WHY HE SAY IT LIKE THAT??? 🔥 Ony said RESPECT HER RIGHT NOW. 🔥 Connie blink twice if you okay. 🔥 This man has not spoken in MINUTES and now he wanna regulate?? 🔥 Y’ALL. HISTORY. THERE IS HISTORY.

Connie glanced over at Ony, who wasn’t even looking at him—just hitting his blunt like nothing happened.

That made it worse.

Connie laughed it off—a little too quickly. “Damn, I was joking.” He looked at the chat, then back at Ony. "you good?”

Ony didn’t answer. He just kept smoking, eyes locked on the screen.

The damage was already done.

The chat was going feral.

🔥 YEAH HE GOT A SOFT SPOT IDC IDC 🔥 Connie you fumbled the convo now spill the tea 🔥 Ony’s reaction was too natural, he BEEN like her 🔥 I KNEWWWW ITTTT

Speculation was at an all-time high. And the worst part?

Ony didn’t correct a damn thing.

The chat was still in shambles from Ony’s warning when a new comment popped up.

@ynlovesfries: Now you gotta put respect on my Constance.

The chat lost its mind.

🔥 NAHHH NOT THE FULL FIRST NAME 🔥 SHE SAID “CONSTANCE” LIKE HIS MAMA 😭😭😭 🔥 HE GOT CHECKED BY BOTH OF THEM LMAOOO 🔥 Connie you gon let that slide??

Connie squinted at the screen, dramatic as hell. “Nah. No, she didn’t.”

He pointed at the camera, looking betrayed. “Don’t be out here government-naming me like I’m in trouble.”

Ony, still leaned back, exhaled smoke slow. “You are in trouble.”

The chat? Finished.

🔥 Y/N & Ony tag team is wild 🔥 Connie getting cooked from all angles 🔥 HE AINT EVEN DEFEND HIMSELF FR

Connie sighed, rubbing his temples. “Man, let’s talk about something else. Y’all play too much.”

Connie was still going back and forth with Y/N in the comments, and the chat was eating it up. Meanwhile, Ony had been posted up, saying nothing, just scrolling his phone like he wasn’t even there.

And the chat noticed.

🔥 Ony just here for vibes? 🔥 Bro acting like he on payroll to sit and smoke 🔥 He really “if it don’t involve me, IDGAF” personified 🔥 Ony blink if they forcing you to be here

Even Connie caught on. He turned to Ony, laughing. “Damn, you gon’ say something or just keep sitting there looking pretty?”

Ony, still cool as hell, arched a brow at the camera. Then he spoke.

“Well, ask me questions then.” He exhaled smoke and tapped his blunt on the tray. “Y’all in the chat nosy fr.”

The chat? Exploding.

🔥 OH SO HE WANNA TALK NOW?? 🔥 Not the callout 😭 🔥 SOMEBODY ASK ABOUT Y/N NOW 🔥 Boy you knew what you were doing with that

Connie leaned back, shaking his head. “Aight, bet. Y’all heard him. Go ahead, ask Mr. Nonchalant whatever you want.”

And just like that, the floodgates opened.

🔥 Ony, what’s your body count? → “Wouldn’t you like to know?” 🔥 What type of girls you like? → “The kind that mind their business.” 🔥 You really like ‘em crazy, huh? → Ony just smirked. “Ain’t say all that.” 🔥 Ayo, what’s up with you and Y/N? → Message deleted by Live Owner

Connie side-eyed the camera, scrolling through the comments. “Y’all moving devious in here, damn.” He shook his head, sipping his drink. “Ony, they saying you dodging too much.”

Ony exhaled smoke and tilted his head. “Well, ask me questions then.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Y’all in the chat nosy fr.”

🔥 OH HE WANNA TALK NOW?? 🔥 SOMEBODY ASK ABOUT Y/N RIGHT NOW 🔥 Boy you knew what you were doing with that 🔥 You keep dodging Y/N like she Steph Curry or sum

The next wave of questions came in even faster.

🔥 Be real, you single or just single for the public? → Ony chuckled. “I don’t do labels.” 🔥 Ony, what was the last text you sent? → “‘Bet. Say less.’” 🔥 When was the last time a girl humbled you? → “Never happened.”

🔥 So when you gon’ settle down? → “When I get tired.”

Connie looked over and laughed. “Boy, stop lying.”

The chat ate it up.

🔥 WE NEED TO FIND HIS LAST EX RN 🔥 He said "when I get tired" like he don’t be fighting sleep already 🔥 Nah, we need Ony’s ex to speak UP

And then, right in the middle of the chaos—

Sasha joined the live.

Her little profile popped up on the screen, and before anybody could even say anything, she hit Ony with the kill shot.

“Hey, Ony—how you wanna bet you gon’ choke when you see Y/N on Thursday?”

BOOM.

🔥 SASHA, PLEASE—😭😭😭 🔥 SHE WASTED NO TIME 🔥 OH WE GETTING TO THE REAL QUESTIONS NOW 🔥 Ony, explain yourself IMMEDIATELY.

Connie was gone. He damn near choked on his drink, coughing while trying to hold in a laugh. “Ayo, chill—” He waved his hand, shaking his head. “Man, it’s an interview. Y’all nosy fr.”

🔥 “An interview” LMAOOO NAH IT’S FATE 🔥 INTERVIEW OR DESTINY??? 🔥 Ony so quiet now, huh? 🔥 Sasha knew what she was doing

Ony? He just sat back, dragging a hand down his face like he was choosing his next words carefully. He let out a slow exhale, passing his blunt back to Eren off-camera.

Connie nudged him. “Damn, bro, you stuck?”

Ony side-eyed him but still didn’t answer.

🔥 OH HE SILENT NOWWW 🔥 HE GOT NOTHING TO SAY HUH? 🔥 Ony, blink twice if you need help 🔥 Sasha knew EXACTLY what she was doing LMFAO

Meanwhile, Sasha was just chilling, biting into a sandwich like she didn’t just drop the biggest bomb of the night.

She licked some sauce off her thumb. “What? I’m just saying.”

🔥 "NAH SASHA BEING MESSY LMAOOO" 🔥 "OH SHE KNOWS SOMETHING—" 🔥 "Y/N JOIN THE LIVE, STOP PLAYING!" 🔥 "DROP THE IG @ WE TRYNA INVESTIGATE."

The comments were moving wild fast, but one stuck out on the screen for a second longer than the rest—

@ynlovesfries: Sasha, you being messy now.

Connie immediately saw it and started laughing. “Ayo, she in here—”

Sasha, mid-chew, didn’t even blink. “And?” She shrugged. “She know I ain’t lying.”

🔥 "YOOO SHE RIGHT HERE AHAHAH" 🔥 "Y/N CONFIRM OR DENY??" 🔥 "NOT HER BESTIE EXPOSING HER ON MAIN."

Then, before Y/N could even try to ignore it, Sasha wiped her fingers off and smirked. “Nah, blame your big head-ass bestie for hosting this live.”

🔥 "BESTIE?? SO THEY CLOSE??" 🔥 "CONNIE WHY YOU AIN’T SAY THAT." 🔥 "OH YEAH, THEY BEEN LINKED, I KNEW IT."

The comments went off.

🔥 "Y/N and Ony definitely had a thing back in the day." 🔥 "WAIT, BESTIE? SO YOU TELLING ME SHE AND CONNIE BEEN CLOSE TOO?" 🔥 "OH, WE NEED Y/N ON THIS LIVE RIGHT NOW."

Connie leaned forward, still scrolling through. “Damn, they on your head, ma.” He chuckled. “Y’all got my comments in detective mode.”

🔥 "NAH, CONNIE DON’T DEFLECT, CONFIRM OR DENY??" 🔥 "Y/N, WE NEED ANSWERS, STOP HIDING!" 🔥 "ON Y/N TO FINALLY SAY SOMETHING."

Sasha sat back, sipping her drink, looking at the chat like she wasn’t the one who just stirred the entire pot.

Then someone finally asked the real question.

🔥 "So if Y/N and Connie besties… does that mean she was around Ony back then?"

🔥 "OOOOHHH WAIT A MINUTE." 🔥 "SO THEY DID KNOW EACH OTHER." 🔥 "THIS LIVE GETTING GOOD."

And now? All eyes were on Ony.

Ony, who was still sitting back, still looking unbothered—except for the fact that he hadn’t said shit.

Connie saw the silence and smirked. “Damn, why he quiet now?”

🔥 "ONYANKOPON, EXPLAIN YOURSELF NOW." 🔥 "Y/N, JUST JOIN THE LIVE AND END THIS MYSTERY." 🔥 "NAH, HE AVOIDING EYE CONTACT AHAHAH."

Sasha side-eyed the screen. “Mm.” She popped another fry in her mouth. “He shook.”

As soon as Y/N’s name popped up on the live screen, the comments went crazy.

🔥 "SHE REALLY JOINED??" 🔥 "OH IT’S ABOUT TO GET GOOD." 🔥 "CONNIE, DON’T FOLD NOW."

The split screen loaded, and there she was—Y/N, sitting back in her room, hoodie on, bonnet secured, looking unbothered.

"Y’all really begged me to get on here," she deadpanned, adjusting her camera.

Connie cracked up immediately. "Nah, don’t act like you wasn’t watching the whole time."

"And?" She raised a brow. "I could’ve stayed lurking."

🔥 "LMAO SHE A LURKER FR." 🔥 "NAH, SHE BEEN HERE, JUST WAITING."

Ony, still laid back, exhaled slow through his nose. He passed the blunt off to Eren and finally spoke.

"Y’all don’t got nothing better to do on this live, huh?" His voice was deep, a little raspy, dragging with that same slow, laid-back energy that made people hang on every word.

🔥 "ONYANKOPON HAS SPOKEN." 🔥 "WHY HE SOUND LIKE THAT THOUGH." 🔥 "NAH, MY KNEES WEAK WTF."

And then, out of nowhere—

@dreamdoll_23: "I'm not Cinderella, but I know it fits 😏."

🔥 "WAIT, WHAT??" 🔥 "OH SHE SHOOTING HER SHOT." 🔥 "NAH, GET HER ON THIS LIVE TOO."

Ony paused mid-blunt pass. His dark eyes flicked down at the screen, squinting slightly.

"Ayo, who said that?" He shifted, leaning in closer. "Tell her hit me up."

🔥 "OH HE BOLD—" 🔥 "NO WAY HE JUST SAID THAT." 🔥 "ONYANKOPONYOU GOTTA RELAX."

Y/N? Dead silent.

She side-eyed the camera, clicked the 'leave' button, and was gone before anyone could say a damn thing.

🔥 "LMAOO SHE LEFT—" 🔥 "OH SHE MAD AHAHA." 🔥 "WHY SHE DODGE LIKE THAT??"

Connie? Cackling.

Sasha? Shaking her head.

Ony? Just smirked. "Aight, aight ." Then he took another drag, like he ain’t just set the chat on fire.

As soon as Y/N dipped from the live, the chat lost its mind.

🔥 "NAH SHE REALLY LEFT—" 🔥 "SHE DIPPED SO FAST LMAOO." 🔥 "ONYANKOPON YOU IN TROUBLE."

Connie was still laughing, shaking his head while sipping from his cup. “Damn, she really ain’t wanna stick around for that.”

Ony? Unbothered.

He stretched, flexing just a little as he leaned back into the couch, scrolling through the comments. Then his gaze flicked back to @dreamdoll_23, the one who said she wasn’t Cinderella but knew it fit.

"Ayo, shorty, you still in here?" He smirked, reaching for his phone.

🔥 "OMG NOT HIM LOOKING FOR HER." 🔥 "HE REALLY BOUT TO FLIRT??" 🔥 "Y/N BOUT TO THROW HANDS LMAOO."

@dreamdoll_23 commented: "I’m here, what's up? 👀"

Ony grinned, licking his bottom lip. "Aight, bet. Drop your IG real quick."

The chat went insane.

🔥 "ONYANKOPON YOU A MENACE." 🔥 "Y/N LEFT TWO SECONDS AGO AND YOU ALREADY MOVING??" 🔥 "BRO GOT NO CHILL."

Connie, watching from the side, shook his head and muttered, "Nah, this man different."

Once @dreamdoll_23 dropped her IG, Ony clicked over to her page right there on live. The screen dimmed slightly as he scrolled through her pictures.

"Oh, you look good, ma." His voice was smooth, deep, dragging in that slow, syrupy way that made the chat explode.

🔥 "NOT HIM DOING THIS IN FRONT OF US." 🔥 "HE REALLY SCROLLING THROUGH HER PICS??" 🔥 "Y/N AIN’T GON LIKE THIS."

Ony smirked, tapping on one of her photos. “Damn, where you from?”

@dreamdoll_23: "NYC, why? You trying to fly me out? 👀"

Connie lost it, nearly spitting out his drink. "Oh hell nah," he wheezed.

Sasha popped back into the chat. "LMAOO not Ony with the bottle girl rizz on IG live."

Ony, still scrolling through her page, chuckled. "I might. You tryna get flewed out?"

🔥 "NOT FLEWED OUT—" 🔥 "OH HE IN HIS BAG NOW." 🔥 "Y/N GONNA BE HOT WHEN SHE SEES THIS."

Someone in the chat: "She look good, but she not Y/N tho."

The whole vibe shifted for a second.

🔥 "LMAOOOOOOO YALL PETTY." 🔥 "WHO SAID THAT." 🔥 "NO ONE CAN ESCAPE Y/N'S SHADOW I SWEAR."

Ony? Still scrolling, still cool. "Y’all love bringing up old shit," he muttered, but there was the tiniest flicker of something in his expression.

Connie? Watching like a hawk.

Sasha? Not letting up.

"Ayo, Ony, you can flirt all you want, but bet money you still gon' freeze up when you see Y/N next week."

🔥 "OHHHHH SHIT." 🔥 "SHE NOT WRONG THO." 🔥 "ONYNKOPON, BE HONEST—YOU SHOOK?"

Ony chuckled, shaking his head. He took another slow drag from his blunt, exhaled thick smoke, and said,

"Man, y’all really think I'm worried? Aight, bet. We’ll see."

a next girl shot her shot saying they say shooters shot hey Onyankopon Carter what up with you.

The moment that comment hit the chat, the whole live went stupid.

🔥 "NAH SHE ATE THAT." 🔥 "SHE SAID WHAT SHE SAID." 🔥 "Y/N COME BACK IMMEDIATELY."

Onyankopon grinned, flashing his grillz as he leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. “Aight, who said that?” He scrolled back up, eyes flicking over the flood of reactions. @bigfine94—her profile pic was cute, lips glossy, nails done.

“Ayo, @bigfine94, I see you,” Ony said, his voice dropping a little.

🔥 "LMAO NOT HIM ACKNOWLEDGING IT." 🔥 "SHE REALLY BOLD FOR THAT ONE." 🔥 "SOMEONE GET Y/N ON THE LINE."

@bigfine94: "Yeah, yeah, you see me. But what’s up with you?"

Ony chuckled, shaking his head. “I’m chillin’, ma. You out here tryna make me risk it all on live?”

🔥 "NOT RISK IT ALL—" 🔥 "Y/N GONNA HAVE TO CLOCK IN." 🔥 "THIS MAN TOO SMOOTH WTF."

@bigfine94: "I mean… that smile would look even better when I’m looking back at you. 👀"

THE WHOLE CHAT LOST IT.

🔥 "NAH SHE WON." 🔥 "SHE REALLY SHOT FROM HALF-COURT." 🔥 "Y/N WHERE YOU AT BABY??"

Connie fell out laughing, slapping his knee. “Yo, I like her! She got bars!”

Even Eren, off-camera, let out a low whistle. “Damn.”

Ony? Grinning, licking his bottom lip. "Oh, you bold, bold."

@bigfine94: "Gotta be when it comes to you. 😘"

🔥 "SHE WANT HIM FR." 🔥 "Y/N CHECK YOUR PHONE NOW." 🔥 "ONYANKOPON SMILING TOO HARD."

Ony leaned back, rubbing his jaw. “Aight, @bigfine94, I’ma remember you.”

Connie shook his head, still laughing. “Yeah, you gon’ remember when Y/N cusses your ass out.”

🔥 "CONNIE KNOWS THE TRUTH." 🔥 "THIS GON BE A PROBLEM." 🔥 "Y/N GOTTA SEE THIS."

And just like that, the chat had a new mission—tagging Y/N everywhere.

The chat was already in shambles, but the second Y/N’s name popped up again, things escalated.

🔥 "NAH WHERE Y/N AT??" 🔥 "SHE GOTTA SEE THIS." 🔥 "THAT GIRL REALLY TOOK HER SHOT AND HE SMILING TOO HARD LMAOO."

Sasha, who had been kicking back, watching the chaos unfold, finally spoke up on the live. She adjusted her camera and squinted at the chat.

“Ayo, y’all messy as hell.” She shook her head, laughing. “Why y’all keep bringing Y/N into this? She don’t know Ony like that.”

🔥 "SASHA, BABY, WHY YOU LYIN'??" 🔥 "👀👀👀 SHE SAID WHAT NOW??" 🔥 "NAH WE GOT RECEIPTS."

And just like that, someone in the chat decided to be a full-blown detective.

@deepdiver56: "NAH NAH. You a liar. If y’all scroll all the way down Ony's IG, there’s a pic of them together looking real cozy."

🔥 "WAIT, WAIT, WAIT—" 🔥 "SAY YOU SWEAR." 🔥 "SOMEBODY PULL UP THE LINK IMMEDIATELY."

Ony, who had been laughing, smirking, and playing along this whole time—froze.

Not for long. Just a split-second hesitation. But it was long enough for the chat to notice.

🔥 "GOT HIM." 🔥 "HE FROZE UP LMAOOO." 🔥 "NAH NOW WE NEED ANSWERS."

Connie caught that too, and this man WAS LOVING IT. He leaned into the camera, grinning.

“Damn, Ony, why you stop laughing?” He tilted his head. “You ain’t got nothing to say?”

🔥 "CONNIE A MENACE." 🔥 "HE POKIN’ THE BEAR LMAO." 🔥 "ONY STIFF AS HELL RN."

Ony exhaled slowly, licking his bottom lip before sitting back and picking up his blunt. He took a deep pull, the ember glowing as the chat waited on his response.

“Niggas be bringing up ancient history,” he muttered, voice smooth, heavy. He passed the blunt to Eren off-camera, not looking at the phone.

🔥 "OH HE SICK." 🔥 "‘ANCIENT HISTORY’ MY ASS." 🔥 "Y/N NEEDS TO WAKE UP RN."

Sasha, seeing how cornered Ony looked, tried to smooth things over. “Look, all I’m saying is y’all reading too deep into shit.”

The chat wasn’t hearing it.

@pullupreceipts: "NOOOO CUZ LOOK—"

And before Ony could even shut it down, someone had dropped the link to the old post.

🔥 "YALL MOVE TOO FAST WTF." 🔥 "OH NAH, THIS PIC KINDA INTIMATE??" 🔥 "ONY, BE SO FR RIGHT NOW."

Connie grabbed his phone, clicked the link, and busted out laughing. “Oh yeah,” he said, spinning his phone to Ony’s face. “Bro, you can’t tell me this don’t look like something.”

Ony glanced at it, jaw tensing slightly. The pic wasn’t even that bad—just an old shot from way back. Him and Y/N at some house party, shoulder to shoulder, his arm resting behind her on the couch, a red cup in his other hand.

But the way he was looking at her?

🔥 "NAH. HE LOOKS WHIPPED." 🔥 "HE CAN'T EVEN DENY IT." 🔥 "Y/N BETTER TAP IN REAL QUICK."

Ony sucked his teeth and waved Connie off, voice gruff. “Man, get that out my face.”

🔥 "HE MAD." 🔥 "NAH THIS LIVE TOO GOOD." 🔥 "Y/N WE NEED A RESPONSE ASAP."

And just like that, the entire chat was blowing up her notifications.

Some raggedy tea page said they were gonna record the live

The chat exploded at that statement, and things took a sharp turn.

🔥 "NAH THEY REALLY ABOUT TO MAKE A VIDEO OUTTA THIS??" 🔥 "I CAN'T WAIT TO SEE THIS ON YOUTUBE." 🔥 "SOMEONE SCREENSHOT THIS. I NEED TO KNOW WHAT THEY GONNA SAY ABOUT THIS LIVE."

Connie, ever the instigator, couldn't help but laugh at the drama unfolding. “Yo, they really gonna make content outta this? I might as well sell my clips to ‘em at this point.”

🔥 "CONNIE A MESS." 🔥 "HE TOO COMFORTABLE WITH THE CHAOS." 🔥 "IF THIS GETS PUT ON YOUTUBE, YALL KNOW IT’S GOING VIRAL."

Sasha rolled her eyes from the side, shaking her head. “Man, y’all wild.” But even she couldn’t deny the entertainment value of the situation.

Then, the tea page made their mark:

@TeaTimeWithTash: “I’m recording this entire live. I’m dissecting every second for my YouTube, y’all better believe that. Stay tuned.”

🔥 "SHE'S DOING GOD'S WORK." 🔥 "I'M FINNA BE IN THE COMMENTS." 🔥 "THEY GONNA EXPOSE EVERYTHING."

Ony sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, looking done. “Y’all really finna turn this into a whole show, huh?” he muttered under his breath. He looked straight into the camera, his eyes narrowing. “Fine. Keep playing. Just wait ‘til the real interview drops. Then we’ll see who really has the story.”

🔥 "OOOOOH, TALK YOUR TALK." 🔥 "HE READY TO DROP THE TRUTH." 🔥 "MAN SAID THE REAL STORY."

Connie leaned back and shrugged, pretending to be nonchalant. “Shit, let ‘em have their fun. The reception is already wild.”

Sasha, realizing just how deep the mess was getting, tried to get things back on track. “Aight, aight, that’s enough for today. Y’all are really out here making mikasa's job harder.”

But the chat was relentless. Everyone had their eyes glued to the screen.

🔥 "YALL KNOW THIS ABOUT TO GO CRAZY ON THE INTERNET." 🔥 "SASHA, YOU KNOW YOU CAN’T STOP THE STORM." 🔥 "SO WHAT ABOUT THAT PIC??"

The chaos finally calmed down, but only slightly. Connie, still lounging comfortably in the chair, leaned back and checked his phone. His smile faltered when he saw his notifications blowing up—from Y/N.

He rolled his eyes, his lips curling into a grin as he swiped open his messages. Y/N’s texts were coming in fast and furious, each one more fiery than the last:

Y/N: "I swear, you really out here causing trouble? What’s this nonsense you got me involved in?" Y/N: "Why you acting like I’m some kind of side chick?"

Connie bit back a laugh, knowing exactly what he was doing. He wasn’t about to let this slide. His fingers tapped out a quick reply:

Connie: "C’mon Ma, it ain't like that. Chill, we all know it’s just some fun."

But before he could finish typing, his phone started blowing up again—this time with voice notes from Y/N. He looked over at Ony, who was still quietly smoking, smirking at the chaos and still watching people go off on the live. The fans in the comments had noticed Connie’s sudden activity on his other phone and took it the wrong way.

🔥 "Connie out here texting some girl while on live??" 🔥 "We see you, Connie. Don’t act like we don’t know." 🔥 "I swear Connie’s always got some new girl on the side."

Meanwhile, Connie was trying to hold it together, though his attention was clearly split. He didn’t care much about the comments—he was more focused on Y/N’s voice notes.

He pressed play on the first one:

Y/N’s voice: “Don’t even try to play me right now. You really out here acting like we cool with this? I’m not one of your damn groupies.”

Connie couldn't help but chuckle. "I know she’s mad… but damn, she sound good." He quickly hit reply:

Connie: "You know I ain't like that. Stop trippin', it’s just a lil’ live to mess with the fans."

The next voice note came through, and it was longer this time.

Y/N’s voice: “Man, don’t play with me. You know what you’re doing. You can’t keep me out here looking dumb for a bunch of randoms who think they know us. I ain’t some prop you can use for content, Connie. Stop it.”

Connie looked at the screen, grinning mischievously. He knew he had to play it cool.

Connie: "C’mon, ma. You know I got love for you. It’s just for the live. Ain’t nobody here serious, and you know that. But you gonna make me pull up on you again, huh?"

He clicked send and leaned back, glancing at Ony who was now chuckling under his breath. The reactions on the live had already taken a life of their own, with people speculating left and right.

🔥 "Y’all peepin’ Connie’s texts?" 🔥 "He gotta be texting some girl. Ain’t no way he not." 🔥 "Yo, why y’all making this mess, Connie?"

Connie just smiled to himself. “Nah, don’t worry. This ain't what they think.”

But the situation was spiraling in ways no one could’ve predicted. Connie was getting his inbox blown up with messages from fans who thought it was all about him texting a new girl.

🔥 "Connie, you got a new shorty or nah?" 🔥 "Y’all gotta put some respect on Y/N's name tho, why she getting dragged into this mess?"

As the notifications kept popping up, Connie got a quick idea. He typed out another message to Y/N:

Connie: "Let me call you. I ain't finna let the fans get this twisted. Let's talk it out."

He hit send, then quickly switched back to the live screen. The fans were still commenting, but now their focus was split. Some of them were more intrigued about the mystery woman, while others were invested in whether Connie and Y/N would finally clear things up.

The live ended after a few more minutes, but Connie wasn't done just yet. He called Y/N directly, hoping she’d answer—knowing the game wasn’t over until they both had their say.

Y/N’s POV:

The second I left that damn live, I felt relief—but it was short-lived. The chaos I had just stepped away from continued to churn in the background like a storm. I pulled my phone out of my pocket, fingers hovering over the screen for a moment as I took a deep breath.

I knew I had to check.

I opened my spam account, because this was definitely the kind of mess that needed to be observed with a little distance. The comments section was on fire, and I couldn’t even blink without something new popping up. People were dissecting every word I said, every movement, and the way Ony reacted to me. Honestly? I wasn’t surprised. They’d been on our necks since day one, trying to piece together a puzzle we weren't even sure of ourselves.

I scrolled through the live recap and watched it all unfold again:

Ony still sitting there, looking like he was unbothered, but I knew deep down it was all just an act. The way he was flirting with those girls, dropping bars like it was nothing, and the way he casually slipped into his player role. It made my stomach churn in a way I couldn’t quite explain. I shouldn’t be mad—I mean, that was Ony after all—but for some reason, today hit different.

He wasn’t even trying to hide it, really. He kept calling out the girls, knowing full well the camera was on him, reading off the comments. He wasn’t even sparing me a second of attention… until they started mentioning my name.

The comments flooded in:

🔥 "I heard Y/N and Ony used to be close, anyone else see that old pic of them together?" 🔥 "Y’all think they linked up again?" 🔥 "Yo, anyone else notice Ony stiffen when they said her name?"

I saw Connie’s comment too, cracking jokes, calling me out for being messy, and every time I saw his face, I wanted to scream. He was egging everything on. He knew exactly what he was doing. And I was over here, stuck in my head, trying to figure out why the hell I ever thought we’d have a chance at being something real.

But as I kept watching, something caught my eye. Ony—he was still flirting, but there was that moment… That moment when someone had mentioned my name again. He froze, and it was almost unnoticeable. The way his body stiffened, how his eyes flickered for just a second. He’d seen me, right? He had to have.

My chest tightened, the whole situation getting way more personal than it had any right to. And then, out of nowhere, the screen filled with this one comment that I wasn’t ready for:

🔥 "Ayo, if y’all scroll down Ony's IG, there's a pic of him and Y/N looking mad cozy. Bet they used to mess with each other for real."

It felt like my breath caught in my throat as I immediately pulled up his Instagram, my thumb moving on its own. The pic was there, the one we tried to forget. Me and Ony, our arms draped around each other, looking like we were in our own little world. The comments exploded with speculation, and it didn’t help that Ony froze in the live when it was brought up.

That was the part I had been trying to avoid. The truth I had been running from.

I was just about to back out when Sasha’s voice broke through my thoughts. She was on the live too, teasing Ony and Connie about us. I was already feeling awkward enough but hearing Sasha say, “Sasha you being messy now, they don’t even know Ony like that,” just made it worse. It was clear that everyone knew something was going on, even if no one had the full story.

And then came the comment that made me sigh.

🔥 "Nah nah, u a liar. If y’all scroll all the way down, Ony’s IG got pics of him and Y/N from back in the day looking real cozy!"

That moment was the one where everything changed. The floodgates opened. The speculations were no longer rumors. They were facts now, and I couldn’t deny it. My phone was buzzing like crazy, Connie was probably texting me again, and I didn’t even know how to respond.

I needed space.

I needed time to think about it all. But all I wanted to do was shut down. So I turned my phone off for a second, letting out a long breath. What the hell was I doing? What was this really all about?

The minute I swiped my phone back on, I could feel the weight of it all. Connie had probably texted me again, and I knew damn well that Ony was probably still trying to keep up the same front in the live. The world seemed to be spinning faster than I could keep up. I could feel the drama building, and I wasn’t sure if I was ready for whatever came next.

But before I could process it, my phone buzzed again. This time, it was a new message:

“You up?”

It was from Connie.

I took a deep breath, knowing this was the moment where everything could either get better… or even worse.

I stared at my phone, the screen lighting up with Connie’s name flashing across my notifications. Text after text and a voice note popping up right after. My fingers hovered over the screen as I debated whether to even listen to his damn voice notes. I couldn’t shake the feeling that he was probably laughing his ass off on the other side, thinking this whole mess was some kind of game.

But I wasn’t playing.

I wasn’t sure if it was the live still replaying in my mind or the fact that the whole world seemed to be speculating about my past with Ony, but I couldn’t take it anymore.

I tapped on the first message.

Connie: “Ayo, you see what’s going on in the live? You know the fans always digging for something, but you’re making it worse by not even acknowledging it. Come on, we just having fun!”

I rolled my eyes. Fun? Really? This wasn’t fun. This was messy, and I didn’t sign up for this shit. I typed a reply, my fingers typing faster than my brain could process.

Y/N: “Messy?? You think this is funny? You’re encouraging this chaos, and I’m over here trying to move on, and now all of a sudden my entire past with Ony’s getting dragged up. You think that’s a joke?!”

I stared at the screen for a second, feeling my pulse quicken. His next voice note buzzed through.

Connie's Voice Note: "C'mon, Y/N. I get it, you're not into all this public drama, but look, they love to speculate, and that's what they do. Just let it ride, fam. Ony ain't trippin', you shouldn’t either. You already know how the game goes. No need to act like you ain't got a little fun in you. You good, I promise.”

His voice was calm, but that didn’t make me feel any better. If anything, it pissed me off more. I took a moment to breathe, then replied, feeling the heat rise in my chest.

Y/N: “Nah, I don’t care if we’re best friends, this shit ain’t funny, Connie. You’re out here hyping it up like it’s a damn game. I’m over it. I didn’t ask for any of this. I’m not some side character in y’all’s reality show, and I’m done letting people drag me into this mess.”

I hit send, then threw my phone on the couch, running my hands through my hair. This whole situation had gone from annoying to straight-up frustrating. I wasn’t a part of their drama—not anymore—and if they couldn’t see that, I didn’t know what to do.

Then the phone buzzed again, almost instantly.

Connie’s Text: "Alright, alright. My bad, I feel you. But you know how these lives go. Don’t stress it. You know me better than anyone, and I got your back."

I stared at the message for a long moment, trying to process it. He wasn’t wrong about one thing: I did know him better than anyone. But that didn’t make it any easier to ignore what had happened in the live. Ony was in there, putting on his usual show, acting like everything was just business as usual.

But this wasn’t business as usual to me.

Ony and I had a past. That wasn’t something that could be erased just because people were speculating. And the way he just sat there, flirting with those fans while I was being dragged through the mud, made me question a lot of things.

I leaned back, shaking my head. He had a way of making everything seem effortless, like nothing ever mattered. But maybe that was the problem.

Maybe it never mattered to him.

I closed my eyes for a second, letting the thoughts settle. The buzz of my phone pulled me back to reality. Another text, this time from Connie.

Connie: "Y/N, seriously. I’m just trying to lighten the mood. Look, Ony will handle it. The live's over, and the smoke will clear. You’ll see."

I didn’t reply right away. Instead, I felt my frustration bubble up again. If only it were that easy. But nothing with Ony was ever easy.

I grabbed my phone, hit Connie's number, and let it ring through, hoping he'd answer. He picked up on the third ring.

“Y/N, I know you're mad, but—”

I didn’t let him finish. “Connie, this isn’t about you or me. It’s about the fact that I’m not playing this game. I don’t care if you think it’s fun. I’m tired of being caught in the middle of this shit. It’s messy. I didn’t sign up for it, and I’m done being your entertainment.”

There was silence on the other end for a second. “I get it,” he finally said, voice softer. “I really do. But, Y/N, you know better than anyone, the game never stops. People love the drama, and they love the what-if stories. Hell, we all do.”

I sighed, feeling the weight of everything. “Not this time,” I muttered, before hanging up.

I wasn’t looking for drama. I wasn’t here to be part of a show. I was done with that life.

But somehow, I couldn’t stop thinking about the one person who was always in the background of it all—Ony. And I wasn’t sure I could ever really move past it.

I heard Connie chuckle on the other end of the line, and I immediately knew where this was going.

“I know what this is about,” he said, a playful tone in his voice. “It’s about Ony flirting with those IG baddies on the live, isn’t it? That’s what’s got you all stressed out like this.”

My stomach dropped. He wasn’t wrong, but hearing him say it out loud just made everything feel more real, more exposed. I rubbed my temple, letting out a frustrated sigh.

“Connie,” I said, my voice low. “Don’t act like I’m the only one who saw that. You think I don’t know how this looks? I’m over here, trying to handle everything, and he’s out there, acting like he didn’t just ruin everything. Flirting with those girls, and I’m supposed to just let it slide?”

There was a brief silence on the other end, and I could almost hear Connie processing my words. Then he finally spoke up again, his tone quieter this time.

“Look, Y/N, I’m not saying you’re wrong for feeling like this. But I’m telling you, Ony’s not like that. He’s always been this way. You know him better than anyone else, and you know how he plays the game.”

“I get that, Connie, but that doesn’t make it easier,” I snapped, my patience wearing thin. “I can’t keep pretending like it’s all just for show. When it’s me, it’s real. So what the hell am I supposed to think when he’s out there laughing it off?”

Connie let out a deep breath. “I get it. You want him to be real with you, but he’s… well, he’s Ony. You know how he is. He keeps his distance. That’s his thing. He doesn’t let people in.”

“Yeah, well,” I muttered, my frustration bubbling back to the surface, “I used to think I was someone he let in.”

“Y/N, come on,” Connie said softly, a little more serious now. “You know he’s always had a way of keeping things complicated. But you were always more than just another girl to him. If you think otherwise, you’ve got it twisted.”

I felt a lump form in my throat at his words. Connie always knew how to hit me where it hurt, even when he wasn’t trying to. It was too easy for him to say things like that, to remind me that I wasn’t just a part of the game.

But that didn’t change the fact that Ony had chosen to let me walk away. He could’ve stopped me. He didn’t.

And now, it was too late.

I swallowed hard, trying to keep myself composed. “I’m not going to be a part of his little publicity stunt just to make him look good,” I said firmly. “This isn’t some reality TV show. It’s my life.”

Connie paused before answering, his voice a little more hesitant. “I feel you. But, look, Ony’s not trying to hurt you. He’s just… doing his thing. You just gotta trust that he knows what he’s doing. When you see him Thursday, you’ll see it.”

“You think so?” I asked, the words heavy with doubt.

“Yeah. I do.” There was a moment of silence between us before Connie added, “And if you need to talk before Thursday, you know where to find me.”

I didn’t respond right away, taking a few seconds to breathe before I finally said, “Yeah. Thanks, Connie. I’ll think about it.”

After a beat, I hung up.

My mind was racing. What was I even supposed to think about all this?

I tossed my phone back down onto the couch, staring at the ceiling as the weight of everything pressed down on me. Ony was out there, doing his thing, while I was over here, trying to make sense of it all. But was I really going to let him walk all over me again? Just because he wanted to keep up the player image?

I wasn’t sure I could keep up with this anymore. And the hardest part was that I didn’t know whether I even wanted to try.

But one thing was for sure—I wasn’t just going to sit back and let him get away with it. Not this time.

[lightlycareless]

not sure if this is a sequel of this other piece, but they are related so enjoy :)

warnings: detailed smut. infidelity on your part. ex-husband!naoya is obsessed with you. mentions of y/nxnanami. MINORS DNI.

“—this—this is wrong Naoya!” you gasp, vocally demeaning your actions but your hips have yet to halt their movements against Naoya’s, permitting his hot, hard cock to continuously enter deeper and deeper into your throbbing cunt, filling you to the brim of his desire while in chase of that intoxicating pleasure that will soon have you ignoring your so-called moral standing.

“Yeah?” He smirks, hands snaking up from your hips and onto your soft breasts, taking ahold of them to cruelly pinch them, earning him endearing whines before pulling you closer to his chest, his mouth near your ear to profess the words that make you shudder. “If it’s so bad, then why does it feel so good, hmm?”

You never liked how he always needed to have the last word. To be right.

But what you absolutely hated the most was how you agreed with him. How your cunt relished being stretched, plummeted against that one sensitive spot that always made your eyes roll back and see stars, tightly clenching your embrace around him as he cruelly rammed deep inside you—

Instinctively keeping him close as your numbing orgasm finally washed around your body, the tight coil in your stomach snapping as you come undone, deeply sighing while Naoya filled you with his warm, sticky seed.

A sensation so vile that, as much you wished to refuse, couldn’t help but keep in place as he continued to pump you with his desire, letting him relax against the crook of your neck and place his arms around your body as he takes in your warmth, your softness—the way you gently squeeze your walls ever so often, getting him a quiet moan before inhaling deeply and raising his eyes towards yours.

The intimacy found in this moment makes both your hearts quicken yet, relax into each other’s embrace. Naoya would follow by placing his lips over yours, taking them into a soft, sweet kiss solely reserved to lovers. Soulmates.

It’s a gesture that you reciprocate almost immediately against your claims, hands carefully grasping for the back of his head as in fear you’d lose him once he peels away…

But at the same time, cut short—because this wasn’t supposed to happen in the first place.

Last time was supposed to be the last time, and yet… here you were again. Answering his nightly call while your partner worked. Demanding your presence for important matters regarding your child, agreeing with the excuse that whatever transpired between the two would solely pertain your custody’s agreement and nothing more.

So much for keeping up promises, huh?

“This—this isn’t right.” you whisper, trying your best to avoid his kisses, managing to avoid the few intended to your lips, but not so lucky when it came to the rest of your face. “I… I can’t be here.”

“That again, princess?” he murmurs, a sly smirk parting his lips as he continues to kiss you. “Come on, mochi… surely you don’t think it’s grown a bit redundant to keep complaining, considering all we’ve done?”

“It doesn’t make it any better…”

Naoya sighs—his reaction is filled with a sense of exasperation that instinctively makes you prod further.

Please him.

“What?”

“When are you going to stop playing house with that salary man and come back home?” He adds. “I’ve been indulging enough by sharing what’s mine, but it’s time for you to return.”

“Naoya—” you breathe, baffled by his words. “That’s not—you can’t say that!”

“And why not?” he chuckles. “Besides, the true victim out of this silly arrangement is our daughter; torn between her parents… we ought to do better.”

You don’t respond, for Naoya knew well that Naomi was—is— your ultimate priority. Whatever necessary for her happiness, you’ll do it.

Yes, even this.

“I was thinking—how about we make it up to her? I know one thing that might remove her disappointment towards us. She’s been pestering me about it, actually.”

“She has? What is it?” you urge, always ready to please your daughter

“How about Naomi a little brother? I think we owe it to her after all the anguish we’ve given her.”

“What?” you caution, it’s the first time you’ve ever heard about it. But the moment you discard your pity towards her, realize how grave his demands were yet again. “How—do you realize what you’re saying?!”

“It’s not surprising she hasn’t told you; it’s not a conversation you could have with someone that isn’t her father.”

“Don’t say that! Kento loves our daughter as if she were his own—”

“Care to say that again?” And he doesn’t need to insists for you to take his warning seriously. Just that was enough for you to remember the overprotectiveness he often burdened towards you, worsening when Naomi came along…

Perhaps the real mystery of all this is how you managed to get away from him in the first place. How you managed to date and settle down with someone else.

Nonetheless, because of its shocking existence, it was important for you to maintain that distance and never let go. There’s a reason why the two went their separate ways—why this… felt bittersweet, instead of deserving.

It was just never meant to be.

And no matter how much you tried, the idealized version of this relationship would never occur. Maybe to never improve, either.

It broke your heart to think so, but… you couldn’t afford such selfishness. Right now, all that mattered was Naomi’s wellbeing. Her happiness, as well as respect the man that loved your daughter like she was his own blood.

And above all, loved you too, even with your faults; your baggage. Perhaps much more than you him, but… that’s ok. It’s what you needed now.

“We can’t see each other anymore.” You declare, moving away from him to clean up and leave this affair once and for all. “…We won’t see each other anymore.”

“Y/N—you—”

“We had a good run, but… it’s over. It didn’t work; and it’s best for the two of us to move on.”

“Have you gone crazy, now??”

“For Naomi too.” You add. “This is not good for her.”

“Surely you don’t— stop saying that nonsense and return to me, now!”

“No.” you resist. “It’s… unfair for Naomi; unfair for Kento.”

“Unfair? You want to talk about unfair?!”

You wouldn’t give him the chance.

Yet, that didn’t mean Naoya would let things go. If anything, her persuasion to finally bring you back grew exponentially after that.

He really care less about your so-called boyfriend’s wellbeing, all that he had mind for was reuniting his family, how it was always meant to be: you, his daughter, and himself. No silly little flings, or attempts of maturity when he knew you were just as fixated on him as he was on you.

But to achieve just that, he needed to remove Nanami from the pedestal you seemed to have placed him upon, and make you realize that was his deserving, rightful spot.

Understand, once and for all, that he was much better than that salaryman could ever hope to be.

So, as he watches you leave, your ex-husband wonders what could finally break you out of trance.

What could possibly tempt Nanami away from you, if he couldn’t do so with you?

No man is perfect, that much he knows well; everyone had a price.

It was just a matter of finding Kento’s.

ugh naoya please don't do this to us.

[onlyangel4]

picking up the broken pieces. seth rollins. roman reigns. part two.

cheater!seth rollins x reader. roman reigns x reader.

synopsis: after your world turns upside down overnight, roman is there to help you put the pieces back together.

faceclaim: eiza gonzález

part one // part two // part three

series taglist: @tinyxrose @daemyratwst

authors note: no hate at all to seth and becky i love them so much this is just for the plot. this is going to be quite a few parts. do comment if you want to be tagged in this series.

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

showing up at charlotte flair's house uninvited probably was not the best decision that roman had ever made in his life but he needed to see you. he needed to be there for you. you had been for him before, in the smallest of ways.

he could remember a time after a particularly difficult match you had swung by his dressing room with a bottle of water and a cookie that you had baked at the home you shared with seth. it was a smile action on your behalf but it had pulled roman out of his head and brought him back down to earth. he had been incredibly grateful for you.

he wasn't even sure if you would consider him a friend but he saw you in that light. he cared about you even if you did not talk often. he had always thought that you could do way better than seth but you had been happy with him and that was enough for roman.

when roman arrived at charlotte's house he could see your car parked in the drive and a sigh of relief left his lips. you were here and that meant that you were safe, that was what meant the most to roman. he parked his own car before walking to the front door knocking on it.

a stunned charlotte opened the door looking at him with a furrowed brow, "roman, what are you doing here?", she spoke keeping her voice hushed.

"is she here?"

charlotte didn't even need to ask who he was talking about. she simply stepped out of her front door shutting it behind her before turning to face him, "she is upstairs, asleep. she got here at 6am", charlotte explained, failing to notice you wrapped in a blanket peering out of the window.

"how is she?"

charlotte let out a humourless laugh, "about as good as a girl whose boyfriend cheated on her with her best friend could ever be"

"has he tried to see her?"

"becky and him were calling her so much that she threw her phone at the wall and smashed it, things fucked"

"i just needed to know that she is okay, we don't talk much but i was worried"

"i know, she has this energy, like sunshine and the idea of him ruining that has made me so angry", charlotte spoke and roman nodded in agreement.

roman was about to thank charlotte for looking after you and leave but the faint sound of the doorhandle rattling caused his eyes to shoot to the doorway.

and there you were wrapped up in a blanket, hair a mess, eyes red and puffy from the countless tears that had fallen from them and as soon as he saw you roman felt a deep anger in his soul, how could someone do this to you?

you didn't say anything as you stepped towards him, he instinctively opened his arms and you collided into his chest recieving the tighest hug from the man, more tears fell from your eyes and onto his shirt. his large hand rubbed your back, "i don't know what i did wrong"

"nothing, you did nothing wrong y/n", he whispered softly. he waited for you to pull away from the hug before looking down at you, "you are going to be okay. you have me and charlotte. we will make sure you are okay. we are here for you", he spoke the words like a vow.

y/ninsta

liked by charlottewwe, romanreigns, paulheyman and 682,982 others

tagged: charlotteflair

y/ninsta: the rumours are not true. i am not leaving the wwe and that is all thanks to this woman (and a couple others) who have been my support system at this time. thank you to everyone who has been there for me, especially you charlotte. i don't know what i would've done without you.

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y/ninsta posted a story

written: back on raw tonight, missed y'all

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in the middle of everything you did contemplate moving companies, just to get away from it but that felt like a major coward move in your opinion. you would be running away from everything that had happened instead of facing it face on in order to get proper closure.

today was going to be an easy one, cut a promo that you are back and better than ever, get interrupted by liv morgan, have an argument in the middle of the ring, setting up a singles match between the two of you, no actual fighting just a way for you to ease yourself in without pushing yourself too far.

you had been walking backstage of the arena looking for a quiet place to prepare yourself when your eyes landed on a pacing roman.

when his eyes landed on you, his pacing immediately stopped. as he turned his head to give you a smile. you and roman had text and called quite a bit after that day at charlotte's house but with his busy schedule this was your first time seeing him in person.

"you look good", he said, his voice a little lower than usual.

"well i was a mess the last time you saw me so anything is better than that", you said with a small laugh.

"you look good when your crying too", he chuckled and you just shook your head at him with a smile.

he opened his mouth to say something else something about how proud he was, how strong you’d been but he knew you didn’t need to hear that right now. instead, he took a step closer.

"you sure you’re ready for this?"

"i have to be, everyone needs to know i'm not just going to disappear because of what happened" you said quietly, the edge of nerves creeping into your tone.

"then go out there and remind them who the hell you are."

that comment made you smile softly, "thank you for your support roman", you said honestly, "are you sticking about?"

"i'm not missing this"

he ended up walking you right to where you were entering from and when your music hit you gave him a wink and then walked out into the arena, the cheers from the crowd swallowing you whole.

you climbed through the ropes of the ring grabbing the microphone that was handed to you, "you know i've been away for a while", you started and the crowd began chanting 'we missed you'

"i missed you too" you started again, "i just needed sometime to sort some stuff out, and you know at one point there i wasn't sure if i was actually ever going to come back", the crowd went silent.

"but i realised something. when everything felt like it was falling apart, the world crumbling around me, this ring still felt like home. no matter everything life threw at me, i was still dreaming of the day i got to come back here and come back to you lovely people to do what i love the most.", the crowd cheered again.

"so anyone back there that thinks that they can break my soul, you are going to have to try a lot harder because i belong here. in this ring"

you were confused, liv's music should be playing by now that was the plan but instead you felt a strong impact on your back. a chair shot. they were easy to to take when you expected them but this was unexpected and hard. you fell down onto the mat dropping the mic.

a mic the assailant picked up, "you talk too much", becky's voice rang in your ears before she walked out of the ring leaving you there dumbfounded.

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roman was quick to come looking for you after what had happened. you had not told him that the plan was to have becky interrupt you, he could have sworn liv was supposed to be the one to call you out.

his suspicions were confirmed when he heard your voice down the hall and he began to follow it.

"what the fuck happened out there!", you were shouting

and when roman entered the room he realised you were shouting at adam pearce.

"she told me she spoke to you, decided that it was best for business"

"what is best for business?", you spoke not shouting now but still rage in your system.

"she wants a match against you at wrestlemania"

"oh fuck that", you spoke shaking your head. roman gently reached a hand out placing it on your shoulder, in an effort to help calm you down from your heightened emotional state.

"it would have a lot of public interest", adam continued, people love your story.

"it isn't a story it actually happened", you retorted.

"think about it y/n it would be good for the company"

"no i'm not-"

"make it a mixed tag match", roman interrupted and your head whipped round to look at him.

"becky and seth, you and me"

"you want me to go against my ex boyfriend and ex best friend"

"you said you wanted closure"

"there is no way they would let us win", you spoke.

"then we are going to have to win properly, not rely on them to sell moves"

your eyes looked at adam, "could we do that?"

"i'd have to talk to them but it would work"

"oh so you will tell them about that but not me about becky", you spoke still salty from earlier

"wait", roman interrupted, "let me tell seth, next week. i won't play dirty, won't lay a hand on him i just want to be the one to tell him"

adam paused for a moment weighing up his options in his mind.

"you really won't touch him"

"i promise"

"okay you can tell him next week"

and with that adam left the room leaving you and roman alone.

"are we really doing this?"

"not only are we doing this, we are going to win this", roman spoke tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

and you began to believe him.

[soleilapproves]

catalyst - chapter 7

Life has many twists and turns- yours included getting rejected from med school and ending up as a manager for your burnt-out pro boxer ex. (sukuna x reader)

fanfic masterlist

You wake up in flashes, chasing after sleep every hour or so. The pearlescent moon hangs high enough for its light to dimly light up the long window sill in Sukuna’s bedroom. If you squint hard enough, you can probably see the craters on it–similar to little scars around Sukuna’s arms and chest. Probably the result of amateur underground fighting with little to no safety gear.

This is when you really see him, though. When awake, he’s a tornado, a wuthering storm crashing into everything around him. Like your eyes, your hands are magnetized, and the tips of your fingers can’t help but glide along the harsh black lines on his face like they were guiding you in memorizing his face (not that you needed to.)

You start at his angular chin, tracing the smooth skin till you reach his cheekbones. The lines on his face are strategically drawn—the artist’s vision only brought out more of his rugged handsomeness. All chiseled edges and razor-sharp teeth, no room for softness besides in his loving gaze.

You traced the slim, jagged eye tattoo on his cheekbone, which looked similar to Yuuji’s scar. Knowing Sukuna, he never got tattoos for aesthetics. Whatever the black strokes on his face and body meant was deep to him.

“Can’t get enough of me, can you?” he grumbled out in a sleepy haze as you left a kiss where your finger previously was.

“Possibly,” you answered with a lovesick, Cheshire smile. “I’m just familiarizing myself with your tattoos. Why’d you get them?”

With his eyes still closed, Sukuna shifts so that you’re laying on top of him, chest-to-chest, bare bodies still warm from your activities a couple of hours ago.

“Yuuji was very self-conscious about the scars on his face. Felt like people were staring at him everywhere he went. I decided to get these tattoos to help him cope better. You know, take the attention off of him.”

Sukuna’s reasoning reminded you of why you fell in love with him in the first place. Sure, he was a hard-headed oaf most of the time, but when he truly loved someone, he was deeply invested, looking out for them more than himself.

A surprisingly selfless man, given his attitude to many things in life.

You brush your lips on his and see him immediately fight back a sleepy grin. “Go to sleep,” he murmured before tightening his arms around you and leaving a light peck on your lips.

You ignored his command. “You softie,” you giggled.

Your comment made Sukuna immediately open his eyes. He was still sleepy, but his gaze was energetically accusatory. “I’m a grown man. Don’t call me that,” he snarked. “I’m anything but a softie.”

You stamped a kiss on his cheek and grinned at him. “You’re right, grown men like you aren’t softies. Softies don’t like being held in their sleep,” you say as you try to get out of his grasp, but he tuts and rolls you back down on the bed so your body is trapped underneath his hard and muscled one.

“Don’t play with me, woman,” he playfully chided as he nipped your naked shoulder. “I can show you the difference between hard and soft right now.”

The hunger in his gaze from a few hours ago had returned once more. You licked your swollen lips and gulped for what was to come.

“Sukuna, I’m still sore from earlier,” you whine as his kisses trail from your shoulder to your neck, revisiting the places he made blotchy purple marks on before. His tongue traces along the path of hickeys, going all the way down to the curve of your breast.

“I’ve let you rest enough,” he mumbled against your dewy skin. “You’ve been resting for the past two years anyway, right? Waiting to be touched by me again.”

Even if Sukuna cannot see your embarrassed gaze, he senses your trembling heart when your hand unconsciously squeezes his shoulder. He knows he has to reassure you, or your mind will begin reeling as usual. “Good, me too,” he says before kissing your pert nipple, relishing the sound of your gasp when his warm tongue brushes against it. “There wasn’t one day where I didn’t think of you. Should’ve locked you down with a ring on your finger when I had the chance.”

You giggle at the thought of him proposing to you with nothing to back him up but dreams of being a professional boxer and a little brother who thought the world of him. The ring would probably have been a silver sterling for the time being–Sukuna made promises he fulfilled, so it would eventually turn into a diamond one.

“Are you asking me to marry you?” you pull him up to face you, and you need to take a moment to hold your breath because you had never seen him look at you or anyone with so much love. Eyes half-lidded, lips apart, and rubicund cheeks.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he playfully retorts before leaving a quick kiss on your lips. “If I’m gonna propose to you, then it’s gonna be perfect–when we’re both ready. With a ring and everything.” He kisses you again, taking more time to savor the taste of your tongue.

There’s a certain satisfying ache you feel when you realize that you have your arms wrapped around the love of your life–disbelief.

Disbelief that you could ever be happy and get what you want. Everything was slowly falling into place, and it was beginning to feel real; from visualizing your dreams to materializing them in front of you. Medical school didn’t seem so far away anymore. Achieving your dreams and getting your happily ever after was concrete–set in stone. Ubiquitous. 

– 

The following weeks were blissful.

The differences in Sukuna’s personality were surprising but welcoming. He had become better at communicating and was diligent when it came to following his treatment regime.

You quickly learned that he obeyed better when you rewarded him after he did supposedly annoying things like his physiotherapy sessions, meeting his psychologist, and eating the meals his nutritionist had provided for him. He was finally starting to get better. So quickly, you started feeling like you were being paid to be a stay-at-home girlfriend.

“I don’t know, I just–I don’t see the point of getting paid if you’re basically driving yourself to all your appointments and doing everything yourself. I feel like I’m taking advantage of you,” you said while sitting on the kitchen counter, watching Sukuna shuffle around, preparing dinner for you. 

“Let me at least set the table–” he interrupted you by placing a piece of bread in your mouth. 

“No.”

“Why not?” you garbled out.

“Sukuna Ryomen’s girlfriend does not service others.”

You swallow the piece of bread before speaking. “I am literally going to be a healthcare worker. My whole drive is to help those who need it.” 

Sukuna scoffs at your answer and backs away, outstretching his muscular and tatted arms. “Does this man seem like he needs help?” he asks with a cocked brow.

“With his ego, yeah,” you quip as you get off the counter, making your way to the clean dishes by the sink.

“Oh, no, you don’t.” Sukuna grabs you by your waist before you can walk over to your destination and places you back on the counter, locking your legs around his waist so you don’t leave again.

“What is wrong with you?” you groan as you pinch the bridge of your nose.

“Don’t make me repeat myself,” he warned you as he gathered your face in his large hands. “You should start preparing for more important things like the next application cycle. It’s my turn to support you.”

“Sukuna, I’d much rather you focus on your career right now,” you answered. 

“And I’d much rather support you as you do me.” He was adamant, gaze undeterred from your face as he leaned his forehead against yours. You didn’t miss how his chest started rising and falling quicker, proximity having similar effects on you two.

“This isn’t like the past. We’re one now. You and me forever, which means all your good and bad moments are mine too. Got it?”

You bite your lip before letting out a deep breath from your nose. “I understand,” you mumble.

“Good girl. Now, gimme a kiss to seal the deal,” he said through a smirk. His large paws moved from your thighs to your waist, pulling your center closer to his. You gasp at the light bump of his semi-hardness to your core. You lean in, lips barely brushing against his as you breathe him in, pine and sandal after shower after returning from his physio session. Your groan rattles you to your core as you kiss him deeply. He tastes fresh, possibly from the smoothie he drank earlier. You can’t help but suck his tongue and wrap your legs around his waist, lightly grinding your cunt against him.

The friction is too much for him because he hardens up completely and paws on your shirt. “Mmm…dinner’s gonna get cold,” you mumbled through kisses.

“We can heat it later. I’m in the mood for some dessert first,” he replies before licking into your mouth, hands massaging the bare skin of your waist beneath your shirt.

You're shapeless with him, body melting against his hold like warm butter on toast. He kisses you in a way that’s blissful, warm, and hearty yet sensual at the same time.

The sudden ringing of his phone jolts you out of your romantic daze. The phone rings about three times till you tap Sukuna on his bicep, who’s still busy kissing you. “You gonna get that?” you ask once he begins to move down your neck, licking and sucking your skin.

He ignores you until you pinch his arm, which makes him bite your neck in retaliation. “It could be important. Go pick it up, or there’s no dessert after dinner,” you reprimand him. 

He groans before he pulls out his phone out of his pocket. “Just when things were getting fun.”

His facial expression changes when he sees the caller ID. When he picks up, his face hardens.

“Hey...now?....I–yeah, okay, I’ll be there.”

You kick your legs in the air out of anticipation. He places his phone on the counter and sighs, staring at it with his hands on his hips. If the circumstances were less tense, you would’ve called him sexy.

“Everything okay?” you ask, pulling his arm to focus on you. He doesn’t look back at you but holds your hand to acknowledge your efforts.

“Coach Yaga wants me to go the gym. He says that he wants to talk to me about my comeback.”

Sukuna’s loss was still a sensitive topic for him. He never said it aloud, but he went from being a champion to simply losing because burnout had been eating him up from the inside, often questioning his passion for the sport.

“Do you wanna go?” you asked as you rubbed up his arm. “You don’t have to if it’s too soon. It’s your call.”

There’s a sad smile on his face when he turns to look at you. His thick arms wrap around you as he settles a bit of his weight on your body, face resting on your shoulder.

“I’m not gonna lie; I’ve thought about retiring a lot quite recently. I only got into boxing to help earn some extra cash on the side. I never genuinely liked it.” Considering how prideful and guarded he was about his inner thoughts, you knew it took a lot for him to open up to you like this. Pity was never something he wanted from you–only acknowledgment and support. So that’s what you did–you sat silently and scratched his scalp.

“But if I’m gonna retire, I won’t do it so abruptly. I’m gonna do it with a win. I need you to watch me fight at least once,” he says as he pulls away. He lifts you off the counter with no effort and pulls you close by your waist.

“Will you come with me to see Coach Yaga?”

“Of course.”

–

The gym where Sukuna trains for his fights is high-end, a place meant for actual athletes. The walls and floor are black, drawing attention to the bright spotlights that shine down on the large boxing ring in the middle, where a few trainers are practicing. Some athletes are assessing their form while looking into a large floor-to-ceiling mirror. Black punching bags hang from the ceiling in another corner. The entire gymnasium smells like leather and sweat.

Some of the fighters at the gym recognize Sukuna and wave at him. Some yell that it’s great to see him.

True to his personality, Sukuna only nods in acknowledgment. He guides you to Yaga’s office with his arm around your shoulder, guarding you from the leery stares of other men.

“So possessive,” you giggle when he glares at yet another man whose eyes are following you two.

“Fuck’s sake,” he groans.

“I think they’re just surprised you have a girlfriend,” you try to reason when you notice his arms flexing. Jealousy was a good color on him.

“Yeah, right. Totally not because you happen to be hot,” he sarcastically quipped.

You peck his cheek to cool him off before he’s about to meet his boss.

The door to Coach Yaga’s office looks daunting even though the only thing displayed on it is his name. Sukuna sighs and opens the door before you can stop him and ask him to let you go.

“Hey, hope you don’t mind if my girlfriend’s here.” Ever so crass, Sukuna only lets you go when you hit his arm. It surprised you how he was so lax with his coach around.

“Hello, Coach Yaga,” you said through an awkward smile.

“Nice to see you again. Have a seat,” he said as he pointed to the chair across his desk. He didn’t bother asking Sukuna to do the same. 

Coach Yaga brushed past your discomfort by immediately diverting his attention to Sukuna. “I’ve been in touch with your physiotherapist–they say you’re as healthy as a horse. Sure look like it too with her by your side,”

Sukuna only chuckles at his coach’s words, and you bashfully choose to look out the window.

“Yeah, well, I guess a break was what I really needed. And I’ve been thinking…I wanna retire with a final match.” The lack of hesitance in Sukuna’s voice convinced Yaga that this was a decision he must’ve thought a lot over. A coach always knows when his athlete has given his all and is ready to move on to the next stage of life. Like you, Yaga knew Sukuna didn’t have a true passion for the sport.

“Are you sure? You can’t go back on your word.”

“More than I’ll ever be. I just want to win one last match.”

You know you couldn’t hear it, but you could tell what he meant with how he stared at you.

He wanted to win his last match for you.

——

taglist: @7haze @sukubusss@kyo-kyo1 @kensqueent @totallygyomeiswife@missthatgirl@iluv-ace@emoedgylord@miakxn@sunasgf1@lolilewenk@clp-84@sodapop182@therealjustpeachesback@msanimeotaku181@aerareads@rebels-rewrite@emochosoluvr @justlia110 @thejujvtsupost

[yunwangja]

unrecognized, part 2

kenma kozume x fem!reader

read part 1 here. after kenma catches you off guard with a casual confession, he acts like nothing happened - which leaves you frustrated, and end up doing something you were never good at.

genre: fluff, slow burn, lighthearted romance

tags: kenma x fem!reader, univ setting, fluffy, pining!! yearning!!!

notes: this is now less introspective and more just some fluffy fluff and my bestie theme, pining <3 we're just exploring how yn and kenma will develop their rs teehee i hope you guys like it! I HOPE I CARRIED AHHHH

you think you’re going crazy. no—scratch that. you are out of your mind.

why are you doing this? sitting here, fumbling with controls, trying to play a game you know absolutely nothing about? and for what?

“how do you… do this…” you mutter, squinting at the screen. you move your character forward—only to be eliminated again.

the screen fades to black. game over.

you groan and throw yourself onto the couch. “why am i even doing this?”

laughter erupts from the call.

“yn, you’ve never cared about games before,” one of your friends says, amused. “why the sudden interest?”

you scramble for an excuse. “just… thought i’d learn something new.”

a lie.

the real reason is too embarrassing to say aloud. because ever since that night—since kenma casually dropped those words, you haven’t been able to stop thinking about him.

not that you’ve actually spoken to him since. no, after that moment, he went right back to being his quiet, unreadable self. like nothing even happened.

it’s fine that he wasn’t talking to you, though. you were to scared to talk to him again, fearing that he would say another thing that would take you off guard.

but—why wasn’t he talking to you?

you hate how it bothers you. now, you notice everything about him. everything he does, how he moves, how he speaks.

the way he stretches his neck when he’s listening to music, how his fingers tap against his leg when he’s focused, how his smirks are the closest thing to a laugh when someone cracks a joke.

god. and this man thinks you’re pretty.

it’s driving you crazy. you hate it. why.

then, last night, at a hangout, you saw him playing a game with some of your friends—headset on, gaze locked onto the screen, completely immersed.

and for some reason, that led you here. fumbling with controls, losing every round, questioning every life decision that brought you to this moment.

you really didn’t know why you decided to do this. really.

“yeah, right,” your friend teases. “you totally just had fomo when we played the other night.”

you open your mouth to argue when someone suddenly says—

“oh, wait, kenma’s joining.”

your stomach drops.

what.

you sit up, gripping your keyboard like it’s a lifeline. no, no, no— you are not ready for this.

“are you guys already playing?” kenma’s voice comes through your headset.

you hear rustling as if he’s adjusting his mic.

you panic. “uh—i mean, i can go—”

“no, of course not,” your friend cuts in. “play with us.”

you curse internally. there’s no escape.

a few seconds later, a new player joins the squad. it's him, you assume. then—

“hey.”

kenma’s voice is smooth, casual.

“oh, yn’s here?” he realizes.

you let out a nervous laugh. “yeah. um. sorry, i wanted to try it out.”

he chuckles. and god, you wish you didn’t notice how nice it sounded. “i see. that’s cute.”

your brain short-circuits.

you are so done.

the game starts, and as expected—you are a complete disaster.

this game is fast. too fast. there are bullets flying, enemies flanking, and you can barely aim without accidentally looking at the sky.

meanwhile, kenma is a menace. his movements are calculated, precise—he barely speaks, but he doesn’t need to. he takes down enemies effortlessly, revives teammates without hesitation, and somehow keeps the whole team afloat.

you, on the other hand, are a burden.

by some miracle (or kenma hard-carrying), you win.

but you don’t feel like celebrating. you bury your face in shame. “i’m so bad at this.”

kenma hums. “good round.” you bet he’s just saying that. “another one?” he asks.

before you can respond, your friend stretches with a yawn. “ah, sorry, i’ve been playing all day. i’m worn out.”

relief floods you—until they add, “but you can play with yn, kenma. she says she wants to learn.”

betrayal.

pure, utter betrayal.

you sit there, eyes wide, screaming internally. no. do not leave me here.

“uh—no, it’s fine! i can just play again next ti—”

“sure,” kenma interrupts smoothly. “let’s go, yn. i can guide you through.”

you slam your face into your hands. why is this happening.

but you have no choice. your friends leave the call, and the next match loads.

and, well—you are still terrible.

kenma is patient, though. he keeps his voice calm, telling you where to go, when to shoot. sometimes he makes small sounds—an approving hum when you survive longer than expected, a soft chuckle when you mess up in a way that’s too bad to ignore.

you still die. a lot.

“where are you?” he asks.

“i—i don’t know—”

“turn left.”

you turn right.

“no, other left.”

you die. again.

by the end of the round, you let out a groan, collapsing onto your desk. “i hate this game.”

kenma laughs. laughs. he never does that. well, at least for as long as you knew him.

“don’t worry, you’ll get the hang of it.”

you sigh dramatically. “i’m deleting it later.”

he chuckles. “please don’t. but why’d you want to play in the first place, anyway?” asking the same thing your friend did earlier.

you freeze.

“nothing,” you mumble. “just wanted to play, too.”

kenma hums, unconvinced. “i doubt it. from your perspective, this game would look difficult.” a pause. then, teasingly, “you couldn’t even do roblox parkour.”

your mouth falls open. “you know about that?!”

he laughs again. “of course. i like you, remember?”

your heart stops.

you grip your keyboard mouse tighter. stop being like this, kenma kozume.

you take a shaky breath. “well, erase that from your memory.”

“mm. no can do.”

oh.

oh, hell.

why did he say it like that? he has no idea what he’s doing to you. no idea.

or worse, he does.

but then, his voice softens. “i still don’t believe you, though. tell me why you really wanted to play.”

he nudges you, but you hesitate. your grip tightens.

“…well. fine.”

he waits. you squeeze your eyes shut, embracing yourself for what you were about to say.

“youweren’ttalkingtome.”

kenma blinks. “what?”

you exhale sharply. “you weren’t talking to me.”

thank god it was just the two of you on the call. if anyone else had been here, you’d never live this down.

silence. then—

“oh.” a pause. then, suddenly— “wait, what?”

he bursts into laughter.

“you did all of this… just to talk to me?”

“you weren’t doing anything!” you blurt, hating how defensive you sound. “it’s not fair that we had that conversation and you just pretended that nothing happened.”

kenma hums in amusement. “so you missed me?” why can you feel him smirking from across the screen?

you wish you could throw something at him.

“shut up.”

he laughs again, soft but exasperated. “oh god, yn,” he says. “what am i going to do with you…”

“what?” you snap, a little too quick, a little too defensive.

he chuckles, “where are you right now?”

“what? why?”

“just answer.”

you hesitate before answering. “…my dorm. why?”

“can i come over?”

your heart nearly stops.

your breath catches, pulse hammering in your ears. “w-what?”

“let me rephrase that,” kenma says, tone gentle. “do you want me to come over?”

you swallow thickly.

your fingers tremble. fuck it.

“hurry, then."

[m4rv3l-girl]

Hi.

Warnings: Copious amounts of fluff.

Bucky Barnes just wanted a quiet morning.

The café on the corner of Brooklyn’s Montague Street was one of the few places he could sit and just be. No one stared, no one whispered, and most importantly - no one recognized him. A small mercy in a world still debating whether the Winter Soldier was a war hero or a war crime waiting to happen.

So, there he was, sitting in the corner, nursing a black coffee that had long since gone cold, lost in his thoughts.

And then, a tiny human plopped into the chair opposite him.

Bucky blinked. The kid couldn’t have been more than three, maybe four. He had an head full of dark hair and big, inquisitive eyes, the kind of expressive face that hadn’t yet learned the art of masking emotions.

“Hi,” the kid said, swinging his legs under the table.

Bucky glanced around. Surely, this tiny person had an owner? But there was no frantic adult in sight.

“…Hi?” Bucky tried.

The kid squinted at him. “You look sad.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow. “That so?”

“Uh-huh. My mommy says people who look sad need cookies.”

Bucky huffed out a short laugh. “Smart lady.”

“She is smart,” the boy agreed, nodding solemnly. Then he pointed to Bucky’s metal hand, which was resting on the table. “What’s that?”

Bucky tensed. He wasn’t exactly in the habit of letting people, let alone kids, gawk at the thing Hydra had left him with. But the boy just stared, curiosity untainted by fear.

“It’s my arm,” Bucky answered simply.

“Why’s it all shiny?”

Bucky glanced down at the vibranium limb. “It’s… special.”

The kid considered this, then, as if arriving at a grand conclusion, nodded. “Like Iron Man.”

Bucky fought the urge to grimace. “Not exactly.”

“I like Iron Man.”

“Yeah,” Bucky muttered. “Lot of people do.”

The kid leaned forward, whispering like it was a secret. “I like Captain America more.”

Bucky smirked. “Good choice.”

The kid beamed, clearly pleased with himself. “I’m Leo.”

Bucky hesitated before answering, but there was something about the unwavering trust in Leo’s eyes that made him cave. “Bucky.”

Leo’s face scrunched up in deep concentration. “That’s a funny name.”

Bucky snorted. “Yeah, well, I was born a long time ago.”

Leo’s eyes went wide. “How long? Are you a grandpa?!”

Bucky choked on his coffee.

Before he could respond, a frantic voice called out, “Leo?!”

Bucky turned just as a woman - young, maybe early twenties - came rushing over, looking half panicked and half relieved. She had the same dark hair as the kid, her cheeks flushed as she scooped Leo up.

“There you are! You can’t just run off like that, baby.”

Leo giggled, unfazed. “Was talkin’ to Bucky.”

The woman finally looked at Bucky, and he swore his brain short-circuited for a second. She was stunning.

“Uh - sorry,” she said, adjusting Leo on her hip. “He does this. Just picks people and befriends them.”

Bucky shrugged. “He’s got good taste.”

She exhaled, rubbing her forehead. “I was about to call in an Amber Alert.”

Leo patted her cheek. “It’s okay, Mommy. Bucky’s nice.”

Her expression softened as she looked at Bucky again. “Thanks for not..uh, being a serial killer, I guess?”

Bucky chuckled. “No problem.”

She hesitated, then smiled. “I’m Y/N.”

Bucky didn’t know what possessed him, but he held out his hand. She shook it, her palm warm against his.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N,” he said, feeling a strange warmth spread through his chest. “Your son’s got a good heart.”

“Yeah,” she said, her smile lingering. “He’s something else.” Their eyes met and held for a beat too long. The air between them crackled with something unspoken.

“Well, we should probably let you get back to your - whatever you were doing,” she said, her voice a little shaky. Bucky nodded, his hand still hovering in the space where their palms had met. “Yeah, I should go.”

But he didn’t move. He couldn’t. Not yet. “Do you come here often?” she asked, breaking the silence. Bucky shrugged. “I come and go. Try to keep to myself mostly.”

Leo squirmed in her arms. “Can we sit with Bucky, Mommy? Pleeeease?” Y/N bit her lip, looking torn. “I don’t want to bother you. I know you probably—“

“It’s fine,” he said, surprising himself. “Stay. I don’t bite. Unless it’s necessary.”

Leo giggled at his joke, and Y/N couldn’t help but laugh. The sound was like music to Bucky’s ears - sweet, genuine, and not bothered by the horrors of the world. He found himself smiling back at them, feeling something he hadn’t felt in a very long time. They sat down, Y/N ordering a mint tea and Leo getting a chocolate milkshake.

Leo chattered away, asking questions about everything from Bucky’s favorite color (which was, apparently, blue) to what he did for fun (which was, admittedly, not much). Y/N listened, sipping her tea, her eyes never leaving Bucky’s face. He found himself opening up, telling them about the old movies he liked and the books he read in his solitary apartment. It was a simple conversation, but it felt like a lifeline in a sea of chaos. As the minutes ticked by, Bucky realized that for the first time in a while, he didn’t feel like a ghost of the past, haunting the present. He felt alive. Human. Y/N’s eyes searched his, and he wondered if she saw the same thing he did - the potential for something more.

But the moment was fleeting. The café door slammed open, and a gust of wind sent the napkins flying. A group of teenagers piled in, one of them wearing a Captain America T-shirt. Leo squealed with excitement, pointing and asking if Bucky knew the man on the shirt. Bucky’s smile faded.

He was the Winter Soldier again, a relic of a bygone era, a legend come to life. But here, in this café with Leo and Y/N, he was just Bucky. A man with a story, a history, and a metal arm. The weight of his past suddenly seemed a little less burdensome under the lightness of their company.

Leo’s questions didn’t stop, and Bucky found himself enjoying the simplicity of them. They were a stark contrast to the complex interrogations he often faced from S.H.I.E.L.D. and his own inner demons. The kid’s enthusiasm was contagious, and soon enough, Y/N was joining in, her laughter binding up his soul.

The teenagers at the counter caught sight of them and whispered among themselves. Bucky’s eyes narrowed, anticipating the usual reaction of fear or suspicion.

But Y/N didn’t flinch. Instead, she leaned in closer, her voice low. “You knew Captain America, didn’t you?” she asked, a spark of mischief in her eyes.

Bucky’s jaw tightened, his pulse spiking. How did she—? But before he could protest, she was already playing along, turning to Leo with a conspiratorial wink. “You know, I think Bucky here might be able to tell us some stories about Captain America that aren’t in the comics. What do you say, Bucky? Can you tell us a secret?” Her eyes met Bucky’s, almost non-verbally communicating that he could just make something up to humor Leo.

He took a deep breath, feeling a twinge of something that felt suspiciously like hope. He could do this. He could be part of a normal conversation, share a piece of himself without the burden of his past weighing him down. “Well, Leo, Cap and I used to have a secret handshake, but I can’t tell you that. It’s top secret, you know?”

Leo’s eyes went wide with excitement. “That’s so cool!”

The teenagers’ whispers grew louder, and Bucky felt their gazes boring into him. He was about to stand up, to leave this false sense of belonging behind when Y/N placed a hand on his shoulder. Her touch was gentle, reassuring. “They’re just being nosy, Hun.” The name slipped out like a habit, being used to handing out affection.

Bucky nodded, his heart rate slow.ing. He took another sip of his now lukewarm coffee and told them a fabricated story about him and Captain America stopping a pie thief. Y/N’s laughter was the sweetest sound he had heard in a long time, and Leo’s eyes sparkled with wonder.

Leo leaned in, his small hand reaching for Bucky’s metal one. “Can you tell me another real story?” Bucky’s chest tightened, his mind racing through a lifetime of memories, some too painful, others too classified.

But then, a memory of Steve, of them as kids, sneaking into a carnival after hours to ride the Ferris wheel, slipped through the cracks of his guarded psyche. He told Leo about that night, about the taste of illicit cotton candy and the way Steve’s laughter had echoed through the deserted park. He talked about the stars above them, so numerous it was like they were part of a constellation themselves.

Y/N’s hand didn’t leave his shoulder, and her grip tightened slightly as he spoke, as if she could feel the weight of his memories. Her eyes searched his, filled with a soft understanding that Bucky hadn’t expected. It was a look that didn’t demand explanations, didn’t ask for anything but to listen.

Leo’s eyes grew sleepy as the story wound down, his head drooping onto Y/N’s shoulder. She whispered something into his ear, and his eyes fluttered closed. Carefully, she placed him into the stroller she had left by the side of the table, his chubby cheek resting against the plush padding.

“Thank you, Bucky,” she said softly, her voice filled with a warmth that seemed to seep into his bones. “That was… really nice. He loves superheroes - says he wants to be one when he’s older.”

Bucky’s throat tightened. The thought of Leo, with all his innocence and wonder, growing up in a world that could so easily shatter his dreams, was too much to bear. He swallowed hard. “You’re welcome, Y/N.”

They sat in silence for a moment, the hum of the café a gentle backdrop to their shared quiet. Then Y/N spoke up, her voice barely above a whisper. “I think we’re gonna head off. Can I, uh…give you my number? Or something.”

Bucky’s heart skipped a beat. “Why?”

Y/N shrugged, a hint of pink coloring her cheeks. “Oh, I..sorry…”

Bucky stilled, his mind racing with possibilities. It had been a long time since someone had offered him something other than suspicion or pity. “Why not?” He found himself saying. Y/N’s smile grew back, and she pulled out a napkin, scribbling her number with a pen she produced from her pocket.

“Call me if you ever need anything,” she said, passing it to him. “Or if you just want to…tell us more stories?”

Bucky took the napkin, feeling the warmth of her hand as it left his. He glanced at the number, then back at her. “Thanks. I’ll keep it safe.”

Y/N nodded, her eyes holding his for a moment longer before she stood, gently rocking the sleeping Leo in his stroller. She reached for her purse to pay for the drinks and Bucky stopped her hand.

She smiled. “See ya around, Bucky.”

Bucky watched them leave, his hand lingering on the napkin. He didn’t know what had just happened, but it felt significant.

As he sat there, the café's chatter washed over him like a comforting blanket, the aroma of freshly baked muffins and the clinking of spoons against porcelain mugs grounding him in the present. He hadn’t felt this at ease in years. Maybe it was Leo’s unbridled enthusiasm or Y/N’s easy acceptance that had allowed him to breathe again.

He took out his phone and sent a quick text to Sam, his newfound friend and the man who had taken over the mantle of Captain America.

He didn’t go into details, just a simple message: “I think I just met the woman I want to marry.”

——————————————————————————————————

Hope you enjoyed this little thought of mine! ☺️

[zoloft3]

the man i assume to be god

☆彡hitoshi shinso x gn! reader

tags—> weed use, nickname use (sweetheart), no use of y/n, first person pov (i'm sorry this is unlike me), childhood friends to weird ass situationship to lovers, it's sappy :| don't be mad,

a/n : this is technically a cross post, since i originally posted this on ao3 years ago, but i wanted to rewrite it for a character i like better and relate to more now. i also changed a bunch of the writing to what's more my style nowadays. so if you've seen this before... no you haven't. This is also the start of me officially beginning my tumblr writing career :] so if you like this lmk and i might do more

-------༚☆༚-------

We made a bad habit of falling asleep in the car.

Hitoshi was always calling me late at night to go for a drive. He'd pick me up in the car he spent too much money on and make some mean comment about my sweatpants and 1 AM eye bags, all before smiling like it hadn't been weeks since he texted. I would get in the car, let the scent of him envelope me, and immediately forgive him. He’d been dealing with the weight of a quarter life crisis, and apparently needed me and some weed to take a load off. Being best friends and head over heels in love since high school made it difficult to say no to him.

We’d fallen into a bit of a routine, unfortunately. Driving out till we found a good place to stop, and then rolling down the windows to watch the few stars that were out. By the time I had shot-gunned him a few times, per his request, my eyelids would droop and there'd be that stomach settling feeling. The kind that makes it so easy to sit perfectly still and never move a muscle. Being so close to him was dreamy, and the buzzing smoke inhalation never failed to take it out of me.

The weed didn't do much to curb my mind though. Whatever we were, whatever racing thoughts I would think all day about him, didn't stop at the car door. The whole thing was messy and so fucking complicated. I tried not to think too hard about it. Most of the time I’d just focus on how pretty he was and how lucky I am to be able to love him.

When he says my name, I swear-

I don’t even know what it does, it kills me so badly.

This one saturday night in particular, Hitoshi didn’t seem as interested in lazy, open mouthed kisses. He seemed fixated on looking at me.

“Hey, you okay?” I nudged his shoulder, attempting to stir awake the Hitoshi I knew. The man only I got to see.

He was a famous work of art, but only I got to hang the framed canvas on my wall. Only I could stand close enough to see each and every brush stroke. No post card or photo could ever compare to the real thing. He was mine, even if he wasn't my boyfriend, he was mine.

“Sorry,” He seemed to snap out of whatever trance he was under, “Just doing too much thinking lately.”

“Yeah, I’ve noticed that,” I smirked, tilting my head to get a better angle of his moonlit face.

“You think we could, just, I dunno,” He looked out the open window, lost in the open air and pine trees, “Maybe talk? About this? Us?”

My heart did a 180 in my chest, so, as per usual, I relied on attempted comedy and a smile to take the anxiety away, “Talk about us? I was beginning to think you’d never ask.”

“I’m serious, you know." The look on he gave me dropped the smile off my face. He was serious. This was officially bad. My brain wracked itself for every possible negative outcome.

Until he spoke again.

"I’ve been thinking we should try something.” He shifted his hands off the steering wheel to take another hit, then tap the ash out the window. The whole scene was far more attractive than I’d ever admit. The way he put his lips together as he exhaled the smoke in my direction. It was fantastical. Sweet, sappy memories I’d lick off the floor of this car to remember.

I’d do anything to keep him on my mind.

“Try… what?” I asked, genuinely curious and anxious for his answer.

This seemed to bring him all the way back to himself, there was a sly smirk on his lips, “I dunno, sweetheart, what do you think?”

There was that sinking feeling again and my back was glued to the seat, eyes stuck on his face. My mind knew what was coming, but my heart couldn't accept that the thing I'd been dreaming about since I was fourteen, was really coming true. In this very moment. Oh, lord.

He turned to face me fully, and the spell broke. This definitely wasn't a dream. Both our arms resting on the center console brought our faces incredibly close.

We’ve always been this way, together and apart, near, yet so far.

Noses almost grazing each other, I pushed myself to speak in the presence of the man I assume to be god.

“You want me to guess?” I raised an eyebrow despite my aching, heavy heart, “Or will you just kiss me already.”

One thing I loved about Hitoshi, is one way or another, he always did what I told him to do.

He kissed differently than I expected, not so commanding or competitive but slow and compassionate. I knew only then, that everything would be fine. We were together, finally, as one.

We didn’t fall asleep in the car that night.

-------☆-------

a/n : if it was terrible, don't tell me.

i will walk into the ocean and never come back.

thanks to @saemeret for being such a good little beta (annoying baby talk voice) smooch <3

[doodleimprovement]

Shiz Babysitters AU: An Adventure with Atlases

Premise: Elphaba is asked to 'babysit' Dorothy for a few hours, and the two of them bond in a way that Elphaba in particular didn't expect

Characters: Elphaba, Fiyero, Dorothy

AO3 Link: Read Here!

Author Notes: Woo! First Fiyeraba hint :)c Also some more insight on Dorothy's backstory in this AU

“Pleeeeeease?” 

Elphaba cannot believe what she is dealing with right now - a grown man, giving her “puppy dog” eyes and pleading for her to… babysit

“I have to finish a research project in the library” She flatly responded “I’ll be there all day. I thought you didn’t want her exposed?” 

“Oh, as if anyone bothers you in there!” He pointed out “Plus… I’ll admit she could use the time outside when it isn’t dark” 

Huh. Thoughtful of him. Weird. 

“And why do you need me to watch her again?” Elphaba asked one more time.

“I have to at least pretend to go to class this afternoon.” he lamented “I can’t get kicked out before finding a way to send Dot home - Didn’t you say you’d help me with that? I do recall such a thing coming from you, hm?” 

Well… he had her there. 

Elphaba sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. 

“Well? Can you?” 

“... Fine” 

Fiyero cheered, but stopped himself with a cough and a light laugh “I’ll drop her off to you in the mid-afternoon just before my class” 

Elphaba just huffed “Okay. I’ll be in the back” 

“Excellent! See you then, friend” He gave her one of his disarming smiles, and he turned on his heel down the hall. 

Elphaba just hoped she wouldn’t regret this. 

-

Little Dorothy Gale was a silent sort. At least, that was how it seemed. 

Once Fiyero had dropped her off, the little girl had watched forlornly as the prince left her behind, but thankfully she didn’t seem upset that she was left with Elphaba. Thank Oz. 

“Would you like something to read?” Elphaba offered. She knew that some of the books in this library were simple enough for young children to read, or at the least had some pretty pictures. But when Dorothy gave her a nervous look and a shake of the head, Elphaba didn’t need to read too deeply into what that meant. “Hm… How about..” Elphaba turned, and grabbed a card she kept on her person - with the key for the school library “Do you know what your home country looks like?”

Dorothy nodded, expression plainly curious. She was quite easy to read, thank the unnamed goddess. 

“Hm, then maybe we can make a little headway for Fiyero, hm?” 

Just the idea seemed to make the young girl's eyes sparkle like amber. It was adorable, even if her admiration for the Vinkun prince felt… ill-informed. 

Elphaba looked around the part of the library they were situated in, and motioned for Dorothy to follow her into the bookcases behind them, leading her to where some of the physically largest books in the library were. 

“Here. The Atlas section” She introduced with a wave of her hand past the various books. “Do you know what an atlas is?” 

Dorothy nodded “Mhm” 

“Smart. We’re going to look at a few of these and see if you can spot where you’re from. Is that alright?” Elphaba described her plan. 

Dorothy nodded again, looking at the books whose harcovers were so big they came up to her little shoulders. Elphaba grabbed two books, “THE COMPLETE ATLAS OF OZ AND BEYOND” and “WHAT LIES BEYOND THE GREAT AND TERRIBLE LANDS”. A good start, if nothing else. 

Elphaba took one book, and Dorothy rather valiantly dragged the other as carefully as she could behind her. Something about her determination reminded Elphaba of herself when she was young and eager to learn. 

She helped Dorothy open the first book to its first page of maps, and instructed “Check every map, and let me know if you see your home” Dorothy nodded to her, and gave all of her little 6-year-old focus to the book. 

And so, that was how they’d spent the next hour, until Elphaba heard the sound of the book shutting, and Dorothy letting out a disappointed huff. “No luck?” Elphaba looked over to her with a curious expression. 

Dorothy sighed, and shook her head “... No America in there” 

“America… Is that the name of the country you live in?” Elphaba asked, trying not to bring attention to the fact that this was the most Dorothy had ever said to her at once. 

“Uh-huh” She pushes the book away, looking a little disappointed “I’s really big” 

“Hm, and it wasn’t on any of those maps?” Elphaba questioned. Dorothy shook her head “Hm.. Alright. Try the next one - here-” 

Elphaba helped her open the book, and got her to the first mapped page “How about this? This is called the reaches, it's a rarely traveled to farland - any of this look familiar?” 

Dorothy looked carefully over the map, eyes scanning every latitude and longitude line. “... Mmh-mmh” 

“No?” 

“No..” 

Huh. Maybe Dorothy really didn’t know where on the map she was from. Elphaba turned the page, and Dorothy’s eyes widened “Wh- Laska!!” 

The surprised shout startled Elphaba, who quickly shushed her, and Dorothy shut her mouth “Laska?” 

“Ah-Alaska” Dorothy corrected, pointing to a large mass on the farthest map of the eastern reaches past the HellowLands. “It.. it looks like Alaska…” 

“... That’s very, very far, Dorothy.” Elphaba pointed out with some concern “Is Alaska a part of America?” 

She nodded “Nnnnnnorth… west” 

“Hm…” Mysterious

“... Really far?” The little girl parroted. 

“Yes, really far. Perhaps on the other side of the world” Elphaba explained “Perhaps even beyond it.. You *are* pointing to the BeyondLands, after all” 

“.... Beyond Lands…” 

“Yes, and lucky for you, there are a few atlases with those maps” Elphaba recalled “Are you ready to take another look?” 

Dorothy gave her a firm nod, and helped Elphaba with returning the atlases, carrying one of them as best she possibly could with her six-year-old strength. 

Elphaba - feeling a bit emboldened at how much Dorothy had already spoken, decided to inquire “.. Dorothy, might I ask you a question?” 

“.. Yes?” She looked up at Elphaba with a perfectly polite little expression. 

“Can you read?” 

The girl paused, suddenly looking rather sheepish, like she was keeping a secret. Elphaba stared, waiting for a response as they both sat back at the study table. 

“... A little” she admitted “Papa said I was real smart an’ he wanted me to read, so he started readin’ t’me before I could walk - Tha’s what Mama told me” 

“Oh? So you’re in school in Kansas?” 

She shook her head “If I was in Topeka, I woulda been. But in Butler county you gotta be seven to go to school” 

“Seven?” Elphaba sounded fascinated “That’s pretty old. Here in Oz you start school at 4 years old” 

The girl's eyes went wide “... Auntie Em said schools just to learn the simple stuff so you can help at home… but Mama said somethin’ different” 

Elphaba kept her expression as soft as she could - She knew that Dorothy had lost both of her parents rather recently - she had to walk Fiyero through how not to address the poor girl’s grief, and she was going to be following her own advice. 

“.. Mama said that if you can learn somethin’ new, you always should. She said that I should go t’college, learn everythin’ I can even if I don’t do anythin’ with it. Cause learning is good” Dorothy recited, as if she’d just heard her mother say it to her this morning. “She went to the Lindenwood College for Women up in Missouri, an said she wanted me to go there too” 

“Well, do you want to? Do you like to learn?” 

“I love to learn!!” Dorothy proclaimed, it was the loudest she’d ever been, and this was the most Elphaba had ever heard the girl talk, even if she was starting to look upset

“You don’t have to defend yourself” Elphaba shushed the girl gently “I love to learn too” 

Dorothy looked a little taken aback “.. Really?” 

“Yes, really” Elphaba reassured, trying to give the girl a smile. 

Something in Dorothy’s eyes was telling, and the girl just looked back down at her hands, fiddling with the lace detailing on her little dress. Elphaba could tell he was done speaking for now - she’d tired herself out. 

“... Come here, right next to me” Elphaba invited, pulling out the chair beside her. 

Dorothy gave her a curious look, but pulled herself out of the chair she’d been sitting at on the other side of the table, and walked over, climbing up while continuing to visually question what Elphaba wanted. Elphaba took one of the history books she’d been reading, and flipped back a few pages, starting with one full page illustration of one of the original kings of Oz, before putting her finger just below the first word, pointing 

“To be king of Oz was to rule over so many, it was to be seen as the endeavor of a god.” She started “but our first king taught us rather valiantly that it was actually just an endeavor of great and terrible magic…” 

-

By the time Fiyero rushed back into the library to get Dorothy, the girl was deeply engrossed in the history book that Elphaba had been reading her, and was starting to read long, slow but steady in her understanding 

“But-the-great-king-could-not-han-dle-some-thin’-so… horr-end-ib-lee?” 

“Horrendible” Elphaba corrected

“Oh? Have you brainwashed my dear little Dot?? She’s learning?” Fiyero teased with the biggest grin that Elphaba had ever seen. 

Dorothy looked up, and gave the man a big, excited grin “Yero!” She called out softly, bouncing down from the chair she’d been sitting in to run over to him, and he effortlessly grabbed her and picked her up, resting her on his hip. 

“How was your time with Elphie? Boring as I said?” He asked, pinching her cheek.

Dorothy shook her head “Nuh-uh!” 

“What? Not boring??” 

“She’s a voracious learner” Elphaba explained, her own smile on her face “She’s also very quick. Her reading is very impressive for someone her age.” 

The compliment made the little girl beam with pride, and Fiyero grinned at the child “Hah! You’re turning her into a nerd then?” 

“No need. She already was” Elphaba argued, clearly amused by the back and forth. 

Fiyero playfully looked offended “you’re turning her against me, Elphaba! How could you!” 

Elphaba rolled her eyes, but Dorothy gave him a worried look “Nuh-uh! No!” 

Fiyero laughed “Don’t you worry, Dot. I don't care if you become a nerd or not.” he reassured. 

“You can be a nerd too” She encouraged “Cause learnin’ is fun!” 

“Hah! I’m just fine with having nothing going on in my head, little Dorothy Gale” He teased, before looking over at Elphaba “Thank you again for watching her, Elph. I don’t like leaving her alone in the dorm, you understand” 

Elphaba gave him a slight smile, something knowing there “I do. Dorothy was a delight.” 

“She is, isn’t she?” the Vinkun prince grinned like… Well, Elphaba wasn’t about to say - the last time someone did he’d sputtered and the poor girl looked both confused and uncomfortable. 

“Well, I have to stay here and finish my report for class” Elphaba offered the goodbye, and Fiyero took it

“Ah, yes, and I have to make sure this little black hole gets dinner” He bounced the girl on his hip. “What's a black hole?” Dorothy asked with a curious furrow of her brow

Fiyero coughed awkwardly “Uh, later. I will explain later. Let’s go - say bye to Miss Elphaba!” 

Dorothy looked back over to Elphaba, and gave the woman a wave “Thank you, Missus Elphaba” 

“You’re welcome, Dorothy. Have a good evening. Both of you” 

“G’night, Elph, love ya for this!”

He had already turned around, and didn’t see the shocked and lit up face of Elphaba Thropp… But little Dorothy Gale did. 

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

first kiss - Harry Castillo

900 Followers Milestone Celebration - kissing prompts

bio : This story is part of the 900 Followers Milestone Celebration - kissing prompts.

person ordering: @massivenutpunk

warnings : fluff, evening with friends, strangers to friends (I think), alcohol, some kissing

[my masterlist]

This evening spiraled out of control the moment the colorful cocktails appeared on your table. You should have had more common sense and as a responsible adult you should have known when to say stop. You failed.

“This is a gift from the gentleman at the bar. With best wishes.” You looked in the direction the waiter was pointing and saw a handsome man.

He was wearing dark jeans, a black sweater, and a white T-shirt underneath. He looked really good, although he was definitely in his forties. A prominent nose, brown eyes, and nicely combed hair. He smiled and lightly lifted the glass of amber liquid he was sipping at the bar. You did the same, moving your lips in a silent, “Thank you.”

You decided to spend Friday night with a few friends celebrating your birthday. The bar you chose was really nice. Velvet sofas, dim lighting, and nice music. No drunk guys or squealing young women. You didn't feel like it anymore.

The stranger must have been watching you for some time, and now you were glancing in his direction, feeling the heat rising inside you every time your eyes met. Something drew you to him like a magnet.

This went on for most of the evening. You could feel his gaze glued to you as you walked to the bathroom, but neither of you made the first move. He respected your time with your friends. You, on the other hand, didn't want to make any weird innuendos that would make either of you feel uncomfortable.

When your friends slowly started ordering an Uber around midnight, you politely thanked them, saying you'd come back alone. You lied. As the door closed behind your last friend and you finished your drink, you felt someone sit down next to you on the soft couch.

The pleasant, subtle scent of cologne could only mean one thing.

"Hello, stranger." You greeted the man who had spent the entire evening at the bar only throwing glances your way.

“Hello.” He replied, his voice low and warm. “I wondered if you’d run away before I found out your name.”

“Does it really interest you that much?” You asked, smiling.

He tilted his head, studying you carefully. “You’ve piqued my interest.”

You gave him your name, and he repeated it, tasting it on his tongue.

"My name is Harry. I'm sorry I've been staring at you all evening, but I couldn't resist." He said. You didn't feel embarrassed by it. There was something about him that made you want to play this game. "Didn't that scare you?"

You shook your head. "No. Don't worry about it.”

Harry nodded to the waiter, letting him know you wanted another drink. When the order was delivered, you clinked glasses.

“Let’s have a drink for the birthday girl,” he said, and after taking a sip, he added with a touch of nonchalance: “Won’t your boyfriend worry about you?”

A safe test of the waters, you thought. Clever.

“There is no one like that at the moment,” you replied. Your move. “And your lady?”

"Same here, sweetheart."

It was too easy. He was too charming, too smooth with every gesture and word. You gave in to him with pleasure, feeling that if you simply told him to stop, Harry would. His arm rested on the headboard behind you, his fingers gently tracing symbols on your arm that only he knew. Sweet words he whispered in your ear. His hand found yours, playing with your fingers, intertwining them as if it was completely natural.

You weren't sure what made you more drunk - the cocktail or Harry's presence. Finally, as the place began to empty, you decided to go home.

"I could give you a ride." he suggested as you ordered an Uber on the app.

You smiled. It had been a really nice evening, but you didn't want to take that step after a few drinks. "Maybe another time."

"So there's a next time?" he looked at you with hope in those beautiful brown eyes.

"I'd love to."

Harry moved. He leaned in slightly, his hand resting on your waist. You were sure he wanted to kiss you, his gaze locked on your lips. But before he could do anything else, your Uber pulled up beside you.

"I have to go." you whispered.

"Are you sure?"

You nodded. “It was nice meeting you, Harry. It was a very wonderful evening.”

He pulled a white business card out of his pocket and slipped it into your hand. "I'll be waiting for your call, sweetheart. Good night."

He squeezed your hand gently and walked to the car to open the door for you. You hesitated for a moment. This evening couldn't end like this.

"Harry?"

He looked at you with hope and interest. You seemed even more beautiful to him in the evening light of neon and lamps. When your hand touched the stubble on his cheek, he almost snuggled into it, but you moved your face closer to his.

Warm lips touched his. He felt the sweet taste of your last drink on your lips, then marveled at their softness. He kissed you back, maybe too vigorously, but you just smiled, allowing him to do so. He pulled you closer to him, and you felt his solid body under his clothes. Your senses began to go wild.

"I'll call." You whispered, kissing his lips once more.

"I'll be waiting."

You got in the car and left Harry, hoping that tomorrow would be a really beautiful day. And you knew it would be.

[vitalverstappen]

Man's Best Wingman - C. Leclerc

summary: they say dogs are a man’s best friend, but a certain dachshund may be man’s best wingman

pairing: Charles Leclerc x veterinarian!reader

warnings: none ( i mean use of y/n if you count that)

word count: 2.6k

It was no surprise that Charles Leclerc adored animals, specifically dogs. So, when word spread like wildfire around Monaco that he had adopted Leo, it was only a matter of time before the duo showed up in your clinic. 

You had heard about Leo from the gossip mill - Charles had been spotted walking the dog around the streets of Monte Carlo, and the photos of the two of them quickly made the rounds on social media. The sight of the Formula 1 driver, usually so composed and intense, walking around with an adorable dachshund puppy had the whole city cooing with affection. 

You had been working as a vet for a few years now, as one of the only ones in Monaco, so you were no stranger to having a celebrity walk through your doors. In fact, you had Alex Albon walking through your doors practically every month with the zoo he had. But hearing your techs swoon at the fact Charles was in your clinic, made you question how big this guy really was. 

“Y/n, Leo Leclerc is in room four for you. He’s here for his routine exam. So far everything looks good,” one of your techs said. 

“I bet Charles looks even better,” another one called, overhearing the conversation. 

Your eyes rolled, but you couldn’t help but chuckle at their remarks. “Focus on Leo, not Charles,” you teased, though you knew their excitement was understandable. 

Taking a deep breath to prepare yourself, you grabbed your stethoscope and walked toward room four. You were a professional, after all, and your job was to make sure Leo was in tip-top shape, not to let the celebrity connection distract you. 

As you knocked lightly on the door, you heard a soft voice call from the other side. “Come in!”

You opened the door to find Charles sitting on the exam table, with Leo happily bouncing around at his feet. The little dachshund’s tail wagged furiously as soon as he spotted you, making a beeline for you as though he’d known you for ages. 

“Hey there, Leo,” you said, crouching down to meet the enthusiastic puppy. You pet him for a second before standing back up. “I’m Dr. Y/L/N, but you can call me Y/N. I’ll be your primary veterinarian.”

Leo’s little tail wagged even harder at the mention of his name, and you couldn’t help but to smile at the sight. His big brown eyes stared up at you, full of trust and excitement. 

“It’s nice to meet you, Y/N,” Charles said as he got off of the exam table. His smile was easy, and you noticed how much more approachable he looked when he wasn’t in his racing suit. “I’m glad to see you’re the one handling Leo today.”

You nodded, doing your best to focus on the task at hand, though your heart was pounding into your throat. “He’s a cutie. And I’ve heard a lot about him from the clinic’s gossip mill. Seems like you two are quite the duo.”

Charles chuckled lightly, glancing down at Leo, who was now sitting patiently at his feet, as if sensing the shift in attention. “Yeah, Leo’s been a good distraction for me. Definitely makes my life a bit more fun, and I think he’s a great companion for my downtime.”

You turned to Leo, picking him up and placing him on the exam table, where Charles once sat. “He’s got a lot of energy for a little guy. Looks like he’s been keeping you on your toes.”

Charles shrugged, the slightest hint of amusement in his expression. “He definitely does, but I love having him around. Plus, he’s a great way to relax after a stressful weekend, just walking him around and enjoying the quieter side of things.”

“Sounds perfect,” you replied, settling your stethoscope into place. “Let’s make sure everything is going well with him. I’ll just start with a quick check-up, get his vitals and make sure he’s healthy.”

You focused on Leo, quickly going through the routine exam. His heart rate was normal, his coat was shiny and healthy, and his eyes were bright. After a quick examination, you looked up at Charles. “He’s in great shape, Charles. No issues at all. He’s a happy, healthy little guy.” 

Charles sighed in relief, his smile widening. “I’m glad to hear that. I was worried I might be doing something wrong.”

“Not at all,” you assured him, chuckling. “You’re doing everything right. It’s clear you care about him a lot.”

You scooped Leo into your arms and informed Charles you would be taking Leo into the back room to give him his shots. What you didn’t mention was that it was also an opportunity for all of the techs to fawn over the puppy. 

Once you brought Leo back into the exam room, Charles' eyes lit up, though you were unsure if it was at you, or the dog. You gave him a few instructions for Leo’s next few weeks, including a reminder to keep up with his vaccinations. “He’s good to go! Just a few follow-ups, but nothing to worry about.”

You bid goodbye to the driver as you guided him up to the receptionist's desk. There, you gave instructions on the next exam date. 

Charles had the day of the exam circled on his calendar the minute he got home. Sure, he wanted to be a good dog dad and pay attention to Leo’s appointments, but he also couldn’t wait to see you again. 

Unfortunately, he didn’t realize that since Leo had done so well, the follow up appointments that had been scheduled were only with the techs, not with you. He went through with the appointments, but in the back of his mind, he had to find a way to see you again. And thankfully, Leo gave him plenty of excuses. 

It all started when Leo ate a blade of grass. 

Now, Charles knew that eating grass wasn’t going to kill his dog, but he was worried it might make him a little sick… and he wanted to see you again. 

So, he scheduled an appointment.

As soon as you saw Charles and Leo’s names on the schedule, a smile tugged at the corner of your lips. You tried to shake it off, you were just doing your job, but there was something about seeing him that made you feel a little lighter. 

As the time drew nearer, you found yourself making sure everything was in order, the clinic bustling with its usual activity. Your techs were curious no doubt - they’d fawned over the duo when they took care of the dog’s follow up appointments, and definitely talked about the “celebrity dog dad” a little more than they probably should’ve. 

“Y/n, Charles and Leo are in room three for you. He mentioned Leo had eaten some grass earlier today, but so far, everything seems normal,” your tech informed you 

You walked towards the exam room, preparing yourself to see the driver and his dog again. As you entered, you saw Charles sitting on the chair this time, gently scratching behind Leo’s ears. The little dachshund’s tail was wagging, and he immediately perked up when he saw you, jumping down from Charles’ lap. 

“Hey, Leo,” you greeted, crouching down to pet the excited pup. “What’s all this fuss about grass, huh?” 

Charles looked up from his phone and smiled when he saw you. “Hey, Y/N. Yeah, Leo decided to sample some grass this morning, and now I’m just a little paranoid.”

You chuckled, standing up to meet his gaze. “I wouldn’t worry too much about it. Dogs eat grass all the time. Most of the time, it’s harmless. But let’s take a quick look just to be sure.”

You began your routine examination of Leo, checking his belly, feeling for any signs of discomfort, and listening to his heart. Leo seemed perfectly fine, happily squirming and wagging his tail as you worked. 

“See?” you said, glancing up at Charles. “He seems to be in good spirits. No signs of anything bothering him.” 

Charles let out a relieved sigh, but there was still a hint of concern in his eyes. “Yeah, I’ve just been overthinking it. But I’m still getting used to being a dog dad, you know?” 

You smiled warmly, meeting his gaze. “Like I said at our first appointment, you’re going great, Charles. Leo’s in good hands.” 

He looked at you with a soft smile, and for a moment, there was a brief pause in the conversation. It was like neither of you wanted to break the moment, but eventually, Charles cleared his throat and stood up. 

“Thanks again, Y/N. Seriously,” he said, giving you an appreciative look. “I’m glad I came in today, even if it was just for a little blade of grass.” 

“It’s no problem at all,” you replied, trying to keep your composure. “Take care of Leo, and we’ll see you for the next check-up.” 

But you saw him much sooner than the next check-up. 

Only a few weeks after the grass related appointment, your receptionist came into the back area, where you and your techs were prepping for surgery. You had a busy day ahead of you, with having back to back appointments all day, and the only break you got was your thirty minutes of lunch. 

“Mr. Leclerc is on the phone,” your receptionist began, causing a bunch of oooo’s from your staff. “He said that Leo stubbed his toe and wanted to see if you had availability for today.”

You paused for a moment, wiping your hands on your scrubs as you turned toward your receptionist. “Leo stubbed his toe?” you asked, trying to suppress a smile. You could hear the excitement in your staff’s whispers behind you, but you didn’t want to give them the satisfaction of knowing how much Charles’ calls were starting to feel like little breaks from the clinic chaos. 

“Yeah, that’s what he said,” your receptionist replied, her tone amused. “Should I tell him to hold on or that you’re in surgery?” 

You quickly ran through your schedule in your head. It was packed, but a stubbed toe? You could squeeze that in. You didn’t want to seem like you were too eager, but you couldn’t help but feel a little excitement at the thought of seeing Charles again. 

“I can take a shorter lunch,” you said, giving your receptionist a quick nod. “Schedule him for the last twenty minutes of that half hour.” 

Your receptionist raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything as she turned to make the call. As soon as the door closed behind her, your techs immediately leaned in, their eyes sparking with curiosity.

“You know you two aren’t fooling anyone, right?” one of them teased. “You’re excited to see Charles again.

“And he’s got to be wanting to see you if he’s making an appointment over a stubbed toe,” another one chimed in. 

You rolled your eyes, trying to stifle a grin. ‘It’s just a stubbed toe,” you replied, but your voice betrayed you, laced with a hint of amusement. “He’s just a concerned dog dad. Nothing more.” 

Your techs exchanged knowing glances, clearly not buying it. 

“Uh-huh,” one of them smirked. “A ‘concerned dog dad’ who keeps calling in for the tiniest little thing. Sure.”

“Maybe you should get him a frequent flyer card,” another suggested, grinning. 

You shook your head, trying to ignore the warmth growing in your cheeks. “Focus, guys. You have things to do, remember?” 

They held up their hands in mock surrender, but you could still feel their eyes on you as you turned back to finish prepping for the day. 

When the status of Leo’s appointment changed to “arrived” on your computer, it took everything in you to remain calm and composed. The butterflies in your stomach only grew as you heard Leo’s excited barks from down the hall. 

Once your techs informed you that the Leclercs were ready to see you, you made your way to the exam room, trying to keep yourself steady with every step. When you opened the door, Charles was sitting there, looking as relaxed as ever, with Leo perched on his lap. 

“Hey there, you,” you greeted Leo first, just like you always did. “I heard you got a stubbed toe this time around.”

Charles chuckled, giving you a sheepish look. “I know, it’s ridiculous. But he seemed to be limping a little, and I didn’t want to take any chances.”

You nodded, appreciating his concern for his dog. “It’s never ridiculous to take care of our furry friends,” you said, your eyes briefly meeting his. There was a warmth in his gaze, and for a moment, the world seemed to slow down. 

You got Leo up on the exam table, gently checking his paws and making sure everything looked good. As you worked, you noticed Charles’ gaze lingering on you - though this time, it felt different. His smile was softer, more intentional, and there was something in his eyes that made your heart skip a beat. 

Finally, after checking Leo’s paw, you turned to Charles. “Good news. It’s just a little sore, probably from the way he landed. No major damage.”

Charles visibly relaxed, his tension easing as he gave a small sigh of relief. “I’m glad to hear that.” 

As you gave Leo a few gentle pats and wrote down the instructions for recovery, you could feel Charles’ eyes on you again. There was a quiet moment between you two, one that made the air feel just a little thicker, like there was more unsaid than spoken. 

“Thank you for always being so patient with me, and with Leo, and I appreciate you squeezing us in at the last minute,” Charles said, standing up to walk toward the door. He paused for a beat, then glanced back at you with a small but meaningful smile. “Would I be able to squeeze into your schedule again sometime, for coffee or drinks?”

You felt your heart flutter as the words hung in the air. It was the question you’d been waiting for, yet the reality of it still made your breath catch in your throat. For a second, you just looked at him, the familiar warmth in his smile making your pulse quicken. 

You tried to play it cool, but you couldn’t hide the slight blush creeping onto your cheeks. “I think I could make some time for you,” you said, your voice soft but sure. “I’m not usually this free, but for you? I’ll make an exception.”

Charles’s smile widened, and you could see a spark of relief in his eyes. He stepped back into the room, the distance between you narrowing as he moved closer. “Tomorrow? After work?” he asked, his tone a little more tentative, as if waiting for your confirmation. 

You nodded, your heart racing a little faster now. “Tomorrow works. Let’s say, six?” 

He gave a small, excited nod, clearly trying to contain his enthusiasm. “Perfect. I’ll pick you up. I’ll make sure not to keep you waiting.”

You both stood there for a moment, the air thick with anticipation, before he gave a final smile and turned to leave. “See you tomorrow, Y/N.” 

As he exited the room, Leo wagged his tail, clearly eager to follow. You watched him walk out, a mixture of excitement and nervousness bubbling up inside you. You leaned against the exam room table for a second, trying to catch your breath, before shaking yourself out of the daze. You still had a job to do, but you couldn’t help but smile to yourself as the thought of tomorrow played over in your mind.

[dimlylittorch]

i love throwing you guys these little blurbs like an old man feeding the pigeons

18+ drabble MDNI

My Masterlist🌱

John Price x pre-op!transmasc!reader

small synopsis: john price is your older boyfriend.. who isn’t as technologically savvy as you are.

Tonight was going to be a fun night. John was away for the night, handling some business overnight while you sat cozied up in your bed with your favorite drink and a cheesy romance film playing on the tv. You had just done an everything shower, every cream applied and every part of your body scrubbed- you felt perfectly clean and content. And the best part? You even bothered to put on clean, warm sheets. A perfect night through and through.

But what was even better about tonight, was a package came today. A new vibrator that you had ordered, nothing too crazy- accompanied by a small bottle of lube, just to explore a little. You’d only ever used your trusty vibe that you found as a teen, sticking with what worked. But now you were older and you wanted to branch out a little. That’s what other people did, right?

You and John hadn’t been dating for very long, and you hadn’t quite gotten very intimate yet. Make out sessions, a little grinding, a good starting point- but not quite to the big finish. You figured it wouldn’t hurt to try a new toy, especially since the two of you weren’t quite there. You opened the new box, plugged it in and sat on your bed. Waiting. And waiting. These things weren’t exactly quick to charge, you know. You mindlessly fiddled with the hem of your oversized shirt, sighing as you watched the little light flash over and over, signaling it wasn’t done charging yet. It was agony- all you wanted to do was lay back and have a hopefully good orgasm.

Meanwhile John was hunched over his desk at the office, rubbing his eyes so hard he saw spots. He was exhausted, really- just wishing he could stop by your place and spend the night with you. You always knew how to make him feel better, holding onto him like a big teddy bear and playing with his hair, fixing him little snack trays and silly drinks. He adored how you still maintained that little bit of innocence- one he had lost a while ago. Sitting back in his chair, his mind kept straying to you. And eventually? He gave in. Work could wait.

You knew it in your gut- it was almost done charging. It had to be, right? It’s been what- twenty minutes? Surely it was almost-

A knock on your door.

Any semblance of patience you had quickly faded, tossing your covers off and huffing as you walked to your door. Yanking it open and slightly glaring up at John, who seeing your demeanor immediately had an apologetic smile on his face.

“Love?” He asks hesitantly.

“I’m busy.” You say plainly. “Like- really busy.”

He looks over your form with a small smirk, clearly not believing you. “I won’t bother you, lovie. Just let me get a snack, hm?”

You sigh softly. God this man knew how to work you. ‘Just a little snack’ and soon enough he’d be in your bed holding one of your plushies. You step back, leaving the door open for him before turning and walking back to the bedroom.

He chuckles softly, closing and locking the door before taking his coat and shoes off, leaving them by the entrance. He followed you into the bedroom, smiling as he sees you sitting on the edge of the bed, eyes glued to your charging port. He walked over, sitting next to you and his eyes flitted to what you were staring at. A light pink- machine- with the tip of it shaped like a mouth.

“Dove” he muttered faintly, confusion written across his face. “What the bloody hell is that?”

You huff, crossing your arms over your chest as you pout. “My new toy.” You mutter. “It’s taking forever to charge.”

His head tilts a little as he looks at it, before shifting his gaze to you. “A toy?” He murmurs faintly. “Like.. a sex toy?”

You look up at him, your head tilting as well. “..yeah?” You say faintly. “Like- you know. A vibrator.”

He stares at you for a few moments before nodding a little, grunting and shifting his gaze downcast. “Right. Right.” He mutters. “Vibrator.” He repeats to himself, testing the words out on his tongue.

You let out a faint breath as you watch him, your eyes narrowing. “You know what a vibrator is, right?”

He quickly scoffs, playfully bumping your shoulder. “Christ in heaven- of course I know what it is. I just- haven’t exactly seen one in a while. Let alone one that looked like that..”

You laugh, shaking your head with amusement. “Fucking hell- I don’t know what I would’ve done if I had to explain a vibrator to you.” You smile. Looking back at the toy, your smile immediately grows when you see that the light is no longer flickering. “Thank god- it’s done.” You beam as you hop over and grab it. Glancing towards the bed, your eyes pause on John and your smile falls. “Oh.” You whisper. “I can’t.. well. Damn it.” You sigh. “I was gonna.. you know. Try it out.”

John’s cheeks flush slightly and he clears his throat, slowly standing up from the bed. “W-well- I won’t stop you, love.” He says quietly. “I can.. stay in the living room. Out of the way.”

You think about it for a moment, eventually sighing. “I can’t just- kick you out like a cat in the rain.” You murmur. “I mean.. do you just want to- I don’t know. Get off together?”

He coughs slightly at your words, reaching up to rub the back of his neck. “Is that what kids these days do?” He chuckles weakly. “Usually we would just.. you know. The bases. There wasn’t any of that fancy stuff.”

You chuckle, moving to sit on the bed with a smile. “It’ll be fun. Tons of people do it, yeah?” You reassure him. “And if you’re not into it we can just watch a movie.”

It didn’t take long for him to strip down to his boxers, gently slipping into bed next to you. It had been a few years since he’d been so.. open with someone else. It was definitely more nerve wracking than he remembered. Watching you get comfortable, your hand holding your new toy slipping between your thighs- fuck. It was going to be a long night.

[whosscruffylooking]

The Purest Things: Too Good at Goodbyes Part II

Aaron Hotchner x Fem! Reader Word Count: 1.8k Warnings: Murder. Blood. Death. Weapons. Canon typical violence. Everything that makes Criminal Minds, Criminal Minds. The Purest Things Masterlist | Taglist Form

au! november 2009

Bookend: “You can close your eyes to the things you do not want to see, but you cannot close your heart to the things you do not want to feel.” ― Tabitha Suzuma

A few days have passed since Haley’s funeral, and you’ve buried yourself in your work, trying to outrun the discomfort that’s settled deep in your chest. Ever since you said goodnight to Aaron that night, you’ve felt sick. Lovesick. Homesick for him and the team. Sickened by yourself and the guilt that clings to you like a dark cloud.

You’ve spent every waking hour convincing yourself that loving him—a man still drowning in grief, a man who never should’ve been yours to want—is something you can swallow down. But it remains, relentless and unforgiving.

The shrill of your phone startles you from your thoughts. You glance down at the screen — Rossi.

“Dave?” you answer, your voice a little hoarse from disuse.

“Hey, kiddo,” he says, skipping the pleasantries. “Can you do me a favor and meet me somewhere? I’ll send you the location.”

He doesn’t wait for your answer, the text arrives before you can ask what this is about. And when you see the address, your stomach twists.

You know exactly where you’re going.

And you know who’s going to be there.

•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:••:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:••:•.•:•.

Aaron sits forward on the stone bench, his hands clasped tightly between his knees, fingers twisted together as if he’s trying to hold something delicate or perhaps something already lost. The freshly turned earth, still unsettled, marks Haley’s final resting place. He doesn’t take his eyes off her.

Rossi approaches carefully, footsteps softened just enough to allow Aaron the choice of noticing him or not. When Aaron straightens slightly, it’s clear he’s chosen the former. Yet his shoulders remain low, his head still bowed beneath the burden that clings to him. His hands stay locked together, pale-knuckled, as though if he holds tightly enough, he can still feel her fingers wrapped in his.

“I had a feeling I’d find you here,” Rossi says sympathetically.

Aaron says nothing.

“Have you told her yet?” Rossi ventures after a pause.

Aaron’s brow furrows. “Told her what?” His voice sounds strange, and feeble, like it has been scraped hollow by grief.

“That you’re coming back to the team.” Rossi’s voice lowers. “And about…” He hesitates, as if uncertain how much truth Aaron can bear. “About your feelings for Y/N.”

Aaron’s head sinks lower, and he draws in a stuttering breath. Tears gather like beads of glass at the corners of his eyes, refusing to fall. He fixates on Haley’s grave as though she might answer for him. “I don’t have to tell her,” he remarks sorrowfully. “She already knows.”

Rossi doesn’t press him. Instead, he withdraws toward the parking lot, where you stand at a hesitant distance.

“I don’t think I should be here,” you say, your stomach churning with anxiety.

“I think you should,” Rossi counters. “He needs his best friend.”

You shake your head, disagreement inscribed on your face. “Haley was his best friend.”

“You can have more than one,” Rossi observes, his hand resting reassuringly on your shoulder before he strides away.

You take a breath, but it sticks somewhere between your ribs. Each step forward feels like walking through wet sand, heavy and resistant. Aaron sits motionless, his head bent low, his body smaller somehow, as though sorrow has folded him in on himself.

Your eyes drift to the temporary sign marking Haley’s resting place. The ink still looks fresh, unweathered by rain or time. The sight of it strikes you with an almost violent clarity — proof that she’s gone, that you stand here in her shadow, an unwelcome trespasser. Guilt coils around you like a vice, whispering that you should turn back.

You start to retreat, but when you turn, you see Rossi is still there, leaning casually against his car. His expression says all it needs to.

Go on.

So you do.

You gather your courage and step forward.

“Is this seat taken?” you ask, unsure of your own voice.

Aaron startles, his head snapping up as if he’d forgotten he wasn’t alone.  His eyes—painted with that familiar mahogany brown hue—sparkle in the sunlight, exposing a depth of vulnerability that has planted itself within him. Wordlessly, he shifts to the side, making room for you on the bench.

You sit beside him, close enough to feel the faint warmth of his arm beside yours, but far enough to give him space or maybe to give yourself an out if your heart becomes too much to contain.

“We don’t have to talk,” you offer. “We can just sit here… or you can tell me to leave.”

“Don’t go,” Aaron replies, the words leaving him almost before he’s thought them.

He exhales a weary breath. “I think you two would’ve been good friends.”

Your own eyes close against the rush of guilt that surges at his kindness — undeserved, yet given unreservedly. It strikes some fragile place inside you that you’ve spent too long fortifying.

“Aaron,” you murmur, “you don’t have to say that. I know what I’ve done…”

“Stop,” he warns, his tone certain, but considerate. “You have nothing to feel guilty for.”

“I do.” Your gaze returns to Haley’s grave. “When we were at the hospital… after you were hurt…” Your throat tightens. “I looked at her while Jack was hugging me, and I tried to — I don’t know — give her some sign that she could trust me. That I’d protect you… keep you safe. For her and Jack. For them. Not for me.”

“You did,” Aaron insists.

“I didn’t.” Your head shakes, and your eyes find his. Those deep, spirited, brown eyes that have seen you at your worst and still manage to look at you like this. “I was selfish,” you breathe. “I let myself believe I belonged in a life that was never mine to step into. And now…”

“I told her,” Aaron begins, leaning forward like he’s trying to meet you where you’ve fallen. “I told her that once I caught Foyet and once she and Jack were home, I’d spend the rest of my life making it up to her.”

He drags a hand across his brow, fingers pressing hard against his temple as if he could scrub the memory away. “I’ll never get to keep that promise.”

“You can,” you whisper. “You did. You saved Jack, and you’ll keep saving him every day just by being his father.”

He shakes his head, his mouth twisting into a grimace that demonstrates the turmoil he feels within. 

“The only way I can make this right,” you resume, your body tensing as you lay bare what you believe to be the only solution, “is if I stay away. If I let you and Jack heal without me in the way.” 

Aaron’s eyes widen as if you've just uttered the one thing he wasn't prepared to hear, leaving him momentarily unmoored. “You really think that’s what she’d want?" His voice is tinged with disbelief.

“I think it’s what’s fair,” you whisper.

“No,” he opposes, “What’s fair is that Jack has people in his life who love him. And what’s fair is that you don’t have to punish yourself for something you never took.”

It’s something you couldn’t have taken...because it was freely given. Aaron Hotchner willingly gave you his heart.

For a moment, neither of you moves. Neither of you breathes. The world seems to hush around you, the wind stirring only faintly, as though it too is holding its breath.

“I should go,” you manage at last, though your voice exposes your indecisiveness.

Aaron’s hand finds your wrist before you can rise, his fingers curling with gentle insistence. His touch feels like stepping too close to a cliff’s edge, drawn by the dangerous thrill of the fall, echoing the things neither of you has dared to hope for.

You hesitate, your pulse thrumming beneath his fingertips. There’s a part of you, foolish and reckless, that wants to stay. To believe you can hold your ground without losing yourself in him completely. But the rational part of you, the one that has always known better, whispers otherwise.

Staying means sacrificing something, your heart, your sanity, your peace. Loving Aaron Hotchner isn’t something that can exist in quiet corners or casual gestures. It’s the kind of love that demands everything — a fire that devours without mercy.

And yet, isn’t that what love is meant to be? A kind of madness that is beautiful and consuming, that leaves you breathless and bruised, yet still aching to burn a little longer.

Aaron’s gaze drops to where his fingers still rest against your wrist. His thumb traces an absent circle along your skin, slow and steady, as though memorizing the shape of you as if, by touch alone, he might preserve something of you when you go.

“I should,” you murmur, but the words remain unfinished. I should stay. I should go. I should forget what this feels like. None of it seems true enough.

His hand lingers a moment longer, fingers curling slightly before they fall away. The absence is immediate, abrupt as a breath drawn too fast.

“I know,” he yields. “I know you can’t stay.”

The resignation in his voice strikes deeper than you expect, an ache low in your ribs. You almost speak, almost tell him you want to stay, that you’d give anything to carry what he can’t. However, you know that wanting isn’t enough. Not now. Not when his grief is so fresh, when you’ve spent too many nights convincing yourself that love alone can’t mend what’s broken.

“I just…” Aaron exhales, running a hand down his face. “Just don’t disappear. Don’t let this be… final.”

His voice fractures slightly, and for all his measured control, you can hear it — the misery beneath the words.

“I won’t,” you vow. “I couldn’t.”

He nods, but his eyes linger on you, a flicker of doubt dancing in their depths as if he’s not entirely sure he believes you. 

“We just...need time,” you add, just as uncertain. You both know time is a poor solution. Too slow to mend the fractures, too fast to outrun the shadows. “But I’ll be back.”

Aaron’s lips press together, a faint crease forming between his brows. He says nothing, but you know he believes you now.

And so you rise, stepping away before reluctance takes hold. Each step feels more challenging than the last like something tethering you to him is unraveling thread by thread. You pause, glancing back just once.

He’s still watching you, rooted in place, his hand half-raised as if he might still call you back. But he doesn’t. He knows better—understands that you’re not leaving because you want to.

“I love you,” you murmur, scarcely louder than a breath. The words slip from your lips as though they have remained there too long, aching for release. He can't hear you — of that, you are certain — yet somehow the confession feels no less risky.

Still, it spills out as though your heart had grown too full to contain it any longer. What a strange comfort it is, to speak the words aloud, to let them exist beyond the restless confines of your mind. 

And what a cruel relief it is, because, even though your heart swells with the power of it, you know this love can be nothing more than a whispered secret, drifting in silence.

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