#Traveler-focused bookings

[hulkthor88]

cheQin.ai: إقامة أذكى وتوفير أذكى

التحول الكبير القادم في صناعة السفر — هل أنت مستعد؟

كان حجز الفنادق في الماضي عملية صارم��، إما أن تقبلها أو ترفضها. كان المسافرون يتصفحون منصات متعددة، ويقارنون الأسعار، ويظلون يتساءلون عما إذا كان بإمكانهم الحصول على صفقة أفضل. وفي الوقت نفسه، كانت الفنادق تكافح لتحسين الأسعار في حين تتنافس مع وكالات السفر عبر الإنترنت التي تعتمد على العمولات.

cheQin.ai

لماذا يعد cheQin.ai أداة تغيير قواعد اللعبة التي يحتاجها المسافرون

1. وداعًا للإقامات باهظة الثمن — حدد السعر المناسب لك!

مع cheQin.ai ، لم يعد المسافرون مضطرين إلى الاكتفاء بأسعار ثابتة. بل يمكنهم بدلاً من ذلك تحديد ميزانيتهم والدخول في مفاوضات مباشرة ومشاهدة الفنادق وهي تخفض أسعارها للفوز بالحجز.

ميزة “الصفقة الآن” المبتكرة على خلق منافسة في الأسعار في الوقت الفعلي بين الفنادق، مما يضمن قيام الضيوف بالحجز دائمًا بأقل سعر متاح.

2. 100% بدون عمولة — الفنادق تنقل لك المدخرات

تأخذ منصات الحجز التقليدية عمولة تتراوح بين 15% إلى 30% لكل حجز ، مما يجبر الفنادق على زيادة الأسعار. تعمل cheQin.ai على إلغاء العمولات تمامًا ، مما يسمح للفنادق بتمرير هذه المدخرات مباشرة إلى المسافرين في شكل أسعار أفضل.

إنه وضع مربح للجانبين: تدفع أقل، وتكسب الفنادق أكثر.

3. إقامات مخصصة، وليس مجرد حجوزات قياسية

تدرك cheQin.ai أن المسافرين لا ينتمون جميعًا إلى فئة واحدة. ولهذا السبب تقدم المنصة خيارات إقامة مرنة ، بما في ذلك:

حجوزات الاستخدام اليومي للمسافرين بغرض العمل أو الإقامات القصيرة الأمد.

حجوزات اللحظة الأخيرة للرحلات العفوية.

إقامات ممتدة للبدو الرقميين والزوار طويلي الأمد.

تختلف احتياجات كل مسافر، وتجعل cheQin.ai من الممكن التفاوض على كل التفاصيل.

4. التأكيد في الوقت الفعلي — لا توجد ألعاب انتظار

هل سئمت من الانتظار لساعات (أو أيام) للحصول على رسائل البريد الإلكتروني للتأكيد؟ مع cheQin.ai، يتم تأكيد الحجوزات على الفور. يتلقى المسافرون عروضًا متعددة في غضون ثوانٍ ، ويقارنون خياراتهم، ويؤكدون أفضل صفقة في الوقت الفعلي.

لا مزيد من عدم اليقين، لا مزيد من التوتر.

للفنادق: زيادة الإيرادات وتقليل المتاعب

cheQin.ai ليس مخصصًا للمسافرين فحسب، بل إنه أداة قوية للفنادق التي تتطلع إلى تعزيز معدلات الإشغال والتحكم في الأسعار دون تدخل طرف ثالث.

كيف تساعد cheQin.ai الفنادق على الازدهار:

التسعير الديناميكي — تقوم الفنادق بتعديل الأسعار في الوقت الفعلي بناءً على الطلب وتفضيلات الضيوف.

زيادة الحجوزات المباشرة — إن عدم وجود عمولات يعني أن الفنادق يمكنها تقديم عروض أفضل مباشرة للضيوف.

قوائم الغرف المرنة — يمكن للفنادق تسويق الغرف للإقامات القصيرة، أو الحجوزات الجماعية، أو العروض المخصصة لجذب جمهور أوسع.

ومن خلال الاستغناء عن الوسطاء، تحتفظ الفنادق بالإيرادات الكاملة من كل حجز بينما يضمن المسافرون صفقات أفضل.

cheQin.ai

ضجة الصناعة — cheQin.ai يحدث تغييرًا جذريًا في عالم السفر

“إن cheQin.ai ليست مجرد منصة حجز أخرى، بل إنها ثورة في تسعير الفنادق تعتمد على الذكاء الاصطناعي. ومن خلال القضاء على الزيادات القائمة على العمولة، تخلق المنصة سوقًا عادلة وشفافة لكل من المسافرين والفنادق.” — Venu G, مؤسس ورئيس تنفيذي لشركة cheQin.ai

مع تواجد متزايد في جميع أنحاء سنغافورة والهند وسريلانكا والإمارات العربية المتحدة وأوروبا وتايلاند، تعمل cheQin.ai على إعادة تعريف كيفية تفاعل الفنادق والمسافرين. وقد ظهرت المنصة في صحيفة Times of India ، وهي معروفة بنموذج التسعير في الوقت الفعلي الذي يعمل بالذكاء الاصطناعي.

ما هو التالي لـ cheQin.ai؟

تتوسع شركة cheQin.ai بسرعة، حيث تدمج المزيد من الميزات لجعل حجز الفنادق أمرًا سهلاً وبأسعار معقولة في جميع أنحاء العالم. تتعاون الشركة بنشاط مع سلاسل الفنادق الرائدة والعقارات المستقلة لخلق تحول عالمي نحو الحجوزات التي تعتمد على الذكاء الاصطناعي والخالية من العمولات.

في المستقبل، لن يضطر المسافرون أبدًا إلى قبول سعر ثابت مرة أخرى. وسوف تصبح المساومة هي القاعدة، وتتولى شركة cheQin.ai زمام المبادرة في هذا المجال.

إقامتك القادمة — أذكى، وأرخص، وأفضل

لماذا تدفع أكثر عندما لا يكون عليك دفعها؟ مع cheQin.ai، أنت دائمًا المتحكم.

تفاوض على السعر المناسب لك.

احصل على عروض فورية.

احجز بأقل سعر في كل مرة.

قم بتنزيل cheQin.ai اليوم واستمتع بمستقبل حجوزات الفنادق!

[catyuy]

Bridgerton time travel to just before season one.

Anthony immediately breaks up with Sienna and starts arraigning things for Kate's family arrival. Before being reminded by his mother and Benedict that he is Viscount Bridgerton first and others can help the Sharma's get settled in England.

Kate tells Mary that they are going to England now and tells Edwina to forget all that she told her about marriage, and she'll help her find a love match. Once she gets married to Anthony, after a decent engagement period, she starts helping Daphne, Lady Danbury and Violet with items that require a lighter touch then her husband's.

Benedict finds Sophie and gets her out of Araminta's clutches. Then he helps Anthony with various legal/financial matters to support all of their family and friends in the future. He also continues his art because he loves it.

Daphne helps Sophie find employment in the meantime and works with her mother to set up other social matters that will help them in the future.

Sophie is using this opportunity to help Posy get away from her mother as well. Lady Danbury eventually offers her room and board as a Governess for her grandson Gareth.

Colin starts to publicly court Penelope. She insists that he still travel and start his journals, and they can have a long engagemnet. He of course brings back gifts for everyone, even people who aren't legally in his family yet. He also takes Albion and Harry under his wing and has them hang out with the rest of the Bridgerton men.

Penelope takes this chance to improve her spy network Whistledown sources. She also makes sure to set up her sister's with their future husbands and warns her mother that her father is in worse trouble then she suspects. She and Eloise bring Madame Delacroix into their spy network inner circle. She uses her new excess funds to help various friends that are or will be in need.

Simon immediately courts Daphne and secretly finances the Sharma's ship passage. Then he gets roped into helping Lady Danbury and her various "charity cases" (she swats him for that).

Lady Danbury does her best for her various family members. Improving her relationship with her brother, arraigning outings with Gareth and the younger Bridgerton siblings. While keeping an eye on her nephews James and Marcus. She also takes every chance to invite Posy but not Araminta or Rosamund over to her house. As do the Bridgertons and eventually the Featheringtons. She also takes an interest in a young Lucy Abernathy.

Eloise does her best to support all of her siblings and their soon to be spouses. Meanwhile she's helping Penelope with her spy network Whistledown. She's also subtly trying to get Cressida to be nicer and convince her to set her hat on Lord Debling when he returns. She also talks about her new penpal Mr. Crane and his love of plants.

Philip Crane makes it look like George and Marina got secretly married before he left for war. That way her children are legitimate, and they don't have to marry. He and Eloise start up a correspondence again.

Francesca Bridgerton worries about choosing between John and Michaela but they both reassure her that they love her and are fine with whatever she chooses. They all spend as much time together as they can knowing John's time is short.

Gregory and Hyacinth are frustrated by being children again but decide to use it to their advantage and get even more info for Whistledown. After, of course, making sure that they have regular outings with Gareth and Lucy. They might have to wait to be married but they are going to be around their loves as much is proper until they are all of age.

Lady Bridgerton is delighted all of her children are in love and working to better the lives of their friends. She works with Daphne on subtly bettering things in the Ton. And is open to meeting with Lord Anderson when he is in town. But she makes sure all of her children are being "proper" before marriage to avoid any scandals. She decides to make Portia an actual friend and help her with her husband wrangling. (she often assigns her sons or her sons in laws to keep an eye on him at various locations). Mary joins them when she comes to town. They all get tipsy at Agatha's on occasion to let off steam.

I'm sure they're all getting up too much more mischief, but I can't think of anything else to add. Or who else they are forcefully adopting helping.

If somehow Queen Charlotte traveled as well, she's getting her sons to marry their wives sooner and letting her children know she loves them. She is spending more time with her granddaughter. She hopes that things will be different but knows her death cannot be changed. She also engages Penelope in a long-distance chess match, with Agatha having go between to inform the other of their next moves. When he's having a good day she's having family meals with George and their family. She still picks her Diamonds but its not as fun when she knows the Bridgertons have the whole Ton rigged now. However, they do know how to get things done and she can appreciate that.

[comediakaidanovsky]

jesus christ these audiences for roh/aew what the fuck. like i get that it's hard to sort structural things out when the company is in a tailspin but man do they need to do something drastic. however many monitors tk was hit with it was not enough

[wedontburnbookshere]

☆☆☆

I ended up a little disappointed in the pace around Part 3 onwards, but I also am aware that if I'd read this when I was thirteen or fourteen, I would have given this book five stars. I'd first picked it up, because the premise made me think of an old OC I'd made when I was twelve -- a vampire-witch hybrid who'd been put into hiding, because vampires and witches hated each other. It was also a Rapunzel retelling, which ticked off yet another love of mine.

So I really wanted to love this book.

I enjoyed it. The world-building was good, and I liked how the tenuous "peace" between the Erlanis Empire and Saren in the current day of the book's setting helps give background on the main characters Ava and Kaye. The former is Sarenian, her parents moving to the Erlanis Empire and the latter mixed. Kaye has always felt like an outsider, and she works hard, needing to prove that she belongs.

She is constantly under scrutiny, not only due to her mixed heritage but due to her mom being seen as a traitor. Kaye's mom, before she died in a vampire attack, had been heard empathizing with a vampires, saying that there must be another way than just killing them outright. Kaye constantly feels her mom's shadow over her, working hard to prove her loyalty and constantly feeling a mixture of grief and shame and confusion but trying to focus only on revenge.

I loved seeing her slowly open up, her walls cracking as the hard truths she knows about the world crumbling under her feet.

In contrast, Ava starts out meek, wanting a shadow to hide under. She's trapped in her room in the attic, the handle on her door pure silver so that she can't touch it without painfully burning herself. Turned into a vampire by her own mother at the age of fifteen, her witch powers were still strong enough to carry through so that she still has them even when undead. Her mother now keeps her locked up to siphon her magic, so she can keep pretending she's human while plotting the empire's downfall.

When her mother is away, Ava is tortured by her vampire-obsessed stepfather, who uses her for experiments to test a vampire's limits for healing. Any time she tries to tell her mother, she doesn't believe her, and Ava is left with only one option: to escape.

A big part of Ava's journey is a power fantasy, which is a reason why I think I would have loved it in my early teens, and I would recommend this book for those aged 12 to 16. She starts out powerless but grows into the most powerful vampire at the end of the book.

I found most of it fun or interesting to read, and the relationship between Ava and Kaye was sweet. Friends turned to enemies due to circumstances and prejudice and then betrayal, and as they grow, they grow closer again. It was a relationship I wish I could have read when I was younger, but I'm very happy it's here now for kids and young teenagers who feel like outsiders and wanting to feel powerful and loved.

[delta-chan]

When I was in elementary school I read one (1) depressing book (Mama Let's Dance, I believe the title was) because I was sick of being forced to real The Boxcar Kids and legit went up to the librarian and said "do you have any more books where people die"

[idontmindifuforgetme]

We will NOT be stressing over people in 2024 when we could be studying and absorbing so much knowledge, learning the piano, taking up horseback riding, upgrading our skincare routines, reading so many more books, spending so much more time off our phones, giving the love rejected by some people to others who want it and return it in kind, learning music theory, taking up a language (French for me), saving up to travel, developing financial literacy, focusing on our goals, revamping our fashion sense, getting good at photography, carrying a camera everywhere w us, expanding our music knowledge, working out more consistently, and learning so many more recipes

[thebluester2020]

Blue... Blue.... Alex and the squirting farmer did something.... Can i ask for the other male's reactions to that :3 pwease

SDV Bachelors x Farmer Who Squirts

Summary: How the bachelors react to a farmer who squirts for the first time. Warning(s): S M U T, Sam being a bit of a horndog / perv, Munch Elliot and Sebastion (it's my favorite headcanons of them and I'm dying on that hill), Shane being a bit of a dom, Harvey being a slight sub. Side note(s): I love it when y'all have big-brained ideas 💙

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

Elliot

Oddly confident?

I imagine he has a diverse collection of books. Erotica is definitely on his bookshelf somewhere so mentions of a girl (or guy) squirting aren't uncommon to him. In his mind? You squirting is a sign that he's doing something good and he would take pride in it.

So follow the vision, the two of you have been dating for a while and you finally work up the nerve to stay over at his cabin for the night just to spend some more time with him, as well as hear the waves at night.

One moment Elliot was reading to you, steadily getting to a particular spicy scene in the novel, and the next?

His head was in between your thighs slurping and sucking at your clit.

♡ - In the silence of Elliot's cabin, lewd squelching and feverous moaning could be heard.

What started as a simple visit. Elliot had sent you a letter that he had received a new book in the mail and wished to read it with you, a simple and impromptu date night that steadily turned more sensual as your lover continued to read.

Mentions of the woman in the novel being touched by her lover...his fingers slowly trailing up her legs until they reached her twitching sex before the man's fingers teased her folds, whispering sweet nothings into her ear as he fingered her to orgasm. You hadn't realized you were panting like a bitch in heat until Elliot teasingly mentioned the redness in your cheeks, questioning if you wanted to recreate the scene.

You couldn't imagine a scenario where you said no.

"Ah~! Elliot, oh fuck..." You moaned, your hands gripping onto Elliot's hair for dear life as he sucked and kissed at your clit, hums of appreciation escaping his glistening lips as his fingers teased your entrance.

Alone, his tongue proved his skill in pleasuring you. The whispered words of his love told to none other than your pussy as if it were capable of talking back to him, but, you oh so desperately wanted him to touch and scratch that itch inside of you. "You're twitching so much my love..." Elliot said, pressing one more kiss to your bud before he kissed up your thigh until he reached your calf.

"Elliot..." You whispered, teary-eyed and begging much to his amusement.

He leaned forward with a smirk, caging you in with his body as his free hand traveled back down to your pussy. "Yes~?" He smirked.

"N-Need you..."

"You already have me dear, what more can I give you."

Your blush only increased as your eyes looked away from his from both embarrassment and to gesture to the hand that was touching you everywhere but where you needed your lover the most. "T-There..."

"Your pussy? Aren't I already doing that?"

You pouted. "N-Need you...inside..." When his brown rose with that slow rising smile of his, your sex-dazed brain quickly remembered its manners as you whispered a shy 'Please' to him. And, without further convincing, Elliot's fingers plunged into your pussy, tearing a moan from the confines of your throat as your hands gripped the pillow behind you.

Elliot pressed sensual kisses all over your face, eventually focusing on nipping the shell of your ear as he felt your sex begin to clamp around your fingers. Your hands eventually left the pillow and moved to wrap around Elliot's neck as your moans suddenly increased in volume and frequency. "E-Elliot!" You keened. "S Something...oh fuck! C-Cumming!"

Without warning, there was a gushing noise, Elliot's attention swiping from your face to your sex before his eyes widened at the sight of a clear liquid spurting from your pussy and your legs shaking ferociously. His mouth fell open at the arousing sight, his cock twitching in its confines at the gorgeous sight before he looked back to you.

Your eyes were unfocused and cloudy, unshed tears brimming the edges of your eyes as your chest heaved up and down.

"My love..." He whispered. "Care to give me such a show again~?"

Sebastion

Flustered (his cock literally gets as hard as a diamond)

I like to believe that Sebastion is a virgin but he isn't stupid.

He knows of people being able to squirt, but he doesn't have experience due to him being a shut-in and never being intimate with anyone. When the two of you started dating though, his mind shifted as y'all got more handsy with one another.

The feeling of you cumming around his cock, the taste of your pussy. It all drove him nuts and eventually awakened something in him that screamed "Can they do more?".

And one night, when his family was out and you and him were getting hot n' heavy in his bedroom. Your body tucked into Sebastion's front as he looked over your shoulder as he fingered your lewd pussy, he got his answer.

♡ - He couldn't tear his eyes away from you.

And by "you", he meant your pussy that was clamping so tightly over his fingers if it feared of letting go of him! Such a lewd sight was a rarity- nay, an impossible scene for him to fathom for a shut-in like himself unless he watched porn or used his imagination. Of course, this was all before he got to know you.

Now? As you whined and moaned so prettily for him, your arms looped around his head in a subconscious way of trying to ground yourself while you practically fucked yourself on his fingers...his cheeks were so red that he felt as if he were on fire, he hadn't the slightest clue how he hadn't cum in his pants yet.

Sebastion pressed a sensual kiss to the corner of your lips. "You're so pretty Y/N...y'know that?" Sebastion whispered before his eyes went back to the scene before him as his fingers steadily grew more and more coated with your slick.

However, it was when a keen escaped your lips that he knew there was something different about the way your pussy twitched around his fingers then. How your hand raced to try and stop his hand and you began to whisper and beg for a break.

"Huh?" He said almost like a confused puppy. "You've never asked for a break before..." Cruelly, the thrusts of his fingers sped up as a smile cracked onto his flustered features at the sound of your moans increasing in volume.

"S-Sebby...!" You whined as your legs started to thrash and your cunt got sloppier, wetness started to coat his hand more and more as Sebastion's eyes were glued to the unfolding scene before him.

Yet before even he had a chance to predict what might happen, his hand was soon coated with the warmth of your gushing juices. His eyes widened in both shock and arousal as your legs shook and seized, the very scene stealing the very breath from his lungs as he struggled to not cum in his pants and save his load for when he was fucking you.

"Yoba..." He whispered as he brought his hand up to his face.

"Sorry..." You whispered, barely even coherent as you tried to will the energy to look at him.

He scoffed as he licked your slick off from his fingers. "Sorry?" He scoffed.

"Don't be~ let's do that again, but on my cock this time."

Sam

Excited (my favorite lil' perv)

I'm going to stick to my own personal theme of Sam being a bit fo a pervert and say that you squirting has been on his mind for a while now, along with the other nasty ideas floating around inside his head.

Some nights, when he's fisting his cock to the thought of you in a sundress or that time when he visited your farm and found you bent over to pick something up. He'd think about the 'What if?' moments of where he's behind you.

Beads of sweat dripping down your skin from the summer heat as he plunged into you repeatedly, his hand coming down to rub circles onto your clit as he got drunk off of your moans and begs for release.

Up until, much to his surprise, he felt a wetness splash onto him and drip down his thighs, your thighs quivering as he had to hold you up to keep you from collapsing.

Poor you, now you had to go at least three more rounds with him!

♡ - A pornographic moan escaped his lips when you squirted for the first time.

As sweat dripped from Sam's forehead as his cock dragged against your warm walls, he couldn't help the delirious moans that left his kiss-swollen lips. Almost as if he were the one who just squirted and not you. "B-Babe?" He said, lazily wiping the sweat from his eyes with the back of his arm before he leaned forward. "Can you do that again...? Fuck...you have to do that again" He begged, needy whines leaving his lisp as his thrusts picked up speed with a fervor more ardent than moments previously.

He couldn't even begin to explain how long he'd been waiting for this moment!

Since the first time he slipped into your pussy all those months ago!

When his imagination finally became reality.

From then on, he felt like a dog in heat. From a brief whiff of your perfume, to those rare-spotted moments where you bended forward in front of him. Your pussy was far too addicting for him to let go so easily, his aching cock always hard and at attention when he was around you as the thoughts of what he wanted to do next, what he wanted to experience next with you plagued his every waking thought!

But...now that he's seen you squirt? All the times he's had sex with you prior seemed to pale in comparison as the memory replayed again and again in his mind.

"S-Sam...!" You gasped. "S-Slow down- Ah!"

He pouted. "I can't..." He whined in your ear. "I just can't, fuuuuckkk, your pussy feels too good." He said, watery blue orbs looking into yours as a dopey grin slowly crawled its way onto his blushing features.

"You'll squirt on my dick again, right Y/N? Oh pleaassee say that you will..." To accentuate his begging, the side of his face dug into the valley between your bouncing breasts as he moaned at the feeling of your pussy clamping down on his dick and the sound of your fucked-dumb pleas of 'More' or 'Go faster' rang in his ears.

"Don't worry Y/N..." Sam chuckled as his grip on your love handles tightened to the point you knew in the back of your head that you'd have some bruises there in the morning, his balls slapping against your sex echoing throughout his room. "I'll make sure that you feel really good."

Harvey

Similar to Sebastion, he's flustered but like way more.

You were taking control for the night and were fucking yourself onto his dick. Yet, the deeper angle pressed into a delicious ache inside of your cunt and caused you to become a little more...greedier than you typically were.

To the point, you were unconsciously overstimulating your poor lover as he was too fucked-dumb to even still you how you were fucking him too good. How, like yourself, were beginning to feel strange as his balls tightened up at his oncoming unexpected release.

But by the time you got off his cock, that last feeling of friction suddenly made him squirt just as, if not more than you had.

He was squirting allllll over his stomach.

♡ - When you squirted on Harvey's dick, your warm wetness splashing against his thighs as you threw your head back to let out a keen of sheer ecstasy. He felt like he was in pure heaven.

Yet as you slowly came down from your high, the aftershocks from your orgasm still washing over you as your pussy clenched and unclenched around Harvey's cock. When your gaze finally settled back onto your lover, you could've sworn you saw hearts start to appear in Harvey's eyes as you steadily began to roll your hips on his still-hard cock.

"Harvey?" You spoke breathily. "You okay?"

He was more than fine.

But, it took a long minute for the doctor to express that as he lazily looked up at you as if you hung the very moon and stars just for him. After all, he was far too focused on how your hips were rubbing against him oh so perfectly. How your sloppy pussy was so warm and so tight even after the countless times that the both of you had been together...so much so that he was slipping further and further into the fogginess that his pleasure-ridden brain provided.

"Harveeyyy~" You said his name like a siren as you caressed his cheek. "Feelin' good?" You purred, giggling when Harvey answered honestly with an eager nod and an 'Uh huh'.

At his honesty, you began to speed up your hip rolls, a choked-up whine just barely escaping Harvey's throat as his grip upon your hips tightened as he ground up into you in search of more friction. Yet, you knew your lover, although he was more vocal than your previous partners. This time? He was a lot more vocal than he typically was (not that you were complaining).

You almost wanted to be concerned.

But the sight of Harvey's eyes starting to roll into the back of his head?

It was far too delectable for you to give up on.

"So cute f' me baby~" You praised as you pressed your hands onto Harvey's chest, your hips falling and rising more rapidly onto your lover as more and more unashamed moans left his lips. "You should be this shameless more often." You giggled.

"I love how shy you are but I think I like this side of you a lot more." You giggled before you quickly snapped back to Harvey's face as his moans and occasional whines began to increase in pitch.

"Oh....shit, Y/N. H-Honey, I feel weird...please don't stop!"

"I think something- Oh fuck, d-don't stop...!"

"Yoba! Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck-"

Quickly, you dismounted your lover before finishing him off with your hands, wanting to see the amount of his spend before you were met with the unexpected scene of him squirting. The white liquid sprayed all over his stomach and just underneath his chest as Harvey's screamed to the point you feared he'd wake your animals. Your eyes were as wide as saucers, yet...as your gasping lover struggled to catch his breath.

A part of you begged to see him do it again.

Shane

RIP to your pussy

He's definitely fucking you harder after that little display.

But how he reacts in other ways definitely depends on the location. If you two are having sex at your place? I like to imagine that he'll get really kinky with it and try to make you scream as loud as possible, making sure that everyone within a ten-minute radius of your farmstead knows who made you squirt.

If you're fucking at Marnie's house, however? That'll be the time you find out just how good (and sexy) slow sex with Shane can be.

Ultimately though, when you squirt, Shane is in the business of making sure that you continue the party alllllll night long until he's satisfied or you passed out.

♡ - Ohohoho...he's been waiting for this moment since the second he had access to your tight little cunt.

"Shit farmer...didn't know you could squirt~" Shane groaned as he pressed a hand into the middle of your back, forcing you to arch even more as he drilled his cock further into your sloppy cunt. "How many other secrets are you holdin' out on me, eh?" He continued to interrogate you even though he fully understood you were incapable of answering in a complete sentence, much less uttering a single word aside from the breathless moans that escaped your hoarse mouth.

Yet as the local drunk fucked pussy, his full balls slapping against your cunt as the noises filled your otherwise quiet bedroom.

He couldn't help but remember the fact that he used to be so rude to you before he actually stopped and got to know you.

Suddenly, your face appeared in the forefront of his mind and as he became more drunk off how your walls squeezed his cock, the enveloping warmth began to make his hips stutter as he felt his release close in on him. All he could think about was making you his cute little farmer wife.

The two of you could raise allll the chickens you wanted.

But most importantly? And the most special little bonus that he and only he would get unlike the other people in this town who possibly had a crush on you? He'd have 24/7 access to your squirting little cunt, your moans that shamelessly told him to keep going despite your overstimulation.

He uttered out a guttural 'Fuck' at the idea. "Fuck pretty...we should get married after this, huh?" He smirked. "Ain't no way I'm losing this tight pussy, especially after figuring out what you can do tonight."

[angelicgirlmj]

an angels guide: what to pack in your bag

hey angels! whether you’re going out with friends, going to school/uni or just looking for some tips on what to keep in your every day bag, this is the list for you. i adore being that one girl who has everything in her bag - helping my friends and loved ones makes me feel really special and positive. plus i know that regardless of what’s going on or happening to me ill have it in my bag! enjoy and i hope you find this helpful.

beauty products ꒰ঌ ᡣ𐭩 ໒꒱

lip balm

spf

perfume or body spray

hydration spray

lotion

hand cream

nail polish

small essential makeup kit (e.g lipstick, blush, concealer)

setting spray

deodorant

hairspray

makeup wipes/cleanser

compact mirror

hairbrush

eyedrops

health/wellness ꒰ঌ ᡣ𐭩 ໒꒱

painkillers/paracetamol

tampons, pads, period cup etc

tissues

cough sweets

plasters

aloe vera or burn cream

hand sanitiser

wet wipes

gum and mints

extra underwear

snacks - especially if you have low blood sugar or iron!

floss/tooth picks

any medication you take throughout the day/may need

face mask

pleasure ꒰ঌ ᡣ𐭩 ໒꒱

a book

headphones

pack of cards

journal

a magazine

digital camera

essentials ꒰ঌ ᡣ𐭩 ໒꒱

wireless phone charger

charging cable

id

student id (discounts in shops etc)

travel cards/passes

wallet

change

house keys

water/some kind of drink

extra layer or room to remove extra layer

claw clip, hair ties

stain remover wipes

pen and small notepad

coin pouch

random ꒰ঌ ᡣ𐭩 ໒꒱

mini umbrella

sunglasses

nail file and scissors

tea bags

hair pins

mini fan

crystals/lucky charms

thank you for reading angels! if youd be interested in a more school/uni focused what to keep in your bag feel free to let me know!

love, m.

[thecoochiefairy]

nola. onyankopon.

𑄽𑄺 warnings 𑄽𑄺 18.0K word count. blackfem!character, college football coded! onyankopon, grumpy! onyankopon, sweet!onyankopon, third person omniscient, dominant!onyankopon, friends to lovers trope, sandbox love, black woman, vaginal penetration, lil bit of sweet talkin’, hair pulling, creaming, oral [f] [m], choking, praising, LOTS of dirty talk, squirting, riding, backshots, condomless sex, kissing, spanking, minors aren’t welcome!

━━ 𝒄𝙤𝒐𝙘𝒉𝙞𝒆𝙛𝒂𝙞𝒓𝙮 𝙩𝒉𝙤𝒖𝙜𝒉𝙩𝒔 .ᐟ so, i know i was been supposed to give y’all an official onyankopon fic. i’m sorry it took so long. i changed the entire idea i had, and honestly? i enjoyed writing this one so much better. haven’t been able to dip my toe into strictly black characters since my actual book new salem, and i missed pure nigga-try! also, thank y’all for 3K followers. i love every single one of you. enjoy! 🫶🏽

visual. visual. visual.

BENEATH THE LIGHTS WAS WHERE SHE BELONGED. The squeaking of her feet scuffled along the shined mahogany wood as she tuned out the many voices—from cheering, to the coach calling out plays, or pure enjoyment from the game. This was her element. 

Scrimmages were just as important to her, the bleachers filling with college students as if it were a regular game. Eyes watched the most valuable player move across the court with a choreography more beautiful than a dancer—their point guard.

The ball was like metal—a magnet in her fingers as she passed it to the next player, awaiting for it to somehow appear back in her palms. But she couldn’t stop her eyes from traveling up to the bleachers. She always searched for his figure to be seated in between his friend group, watching her just as much as she waited for him. 

Black leather varsity jacket with yellow embroidery, his name and number on the back like a symbol—‘ONYANKOPON.’ 

Golden grills shone beneath the light of his full goatee and dark pink lips, bone straight smile more flattering than the devils. His durag tied into a knot along the back of his head, his outfit more relaxed as he’d just come from practice—He’d never miss her games. 

He sat there amongst the many of his own teammates. His gaze was focused on her, following her movements as they were almost seductive. 

It never failed that she’d eventually look in his direction. It was always a battle between who would look away first—This time, it was her. Her eyes glanced over him every so often, her heart racing whenever their gazes met. But the game was as vital as the air that filled her nostrils, and no amount of admiring him could pull her from it.

Her fingers grip the basketball that’s thrown back into her palms, having to quickly regain control before it went straight into the opposing team’s hands. She was like the cherry on top, gliding through bodies along the court as she made her way closer to the edge, her low height more  powerful than the taller women as she tossed the ball towards the hoop.

The crowd was watching poetry in the making, the way her legs pushed against the floor and the ball leaving her fingers in an effortless arc that sailed through the basket. Flawless. 

The suppression of her smile finally shined through her bratz shaped lips, listening to the crowd cheer as her team had won the scrimmage. Her eyes move over as she watches that varsity jacket beginning to stand from the bleachers, following behind his group of friends as they begin exiting the building. Something in her feels dejected.

But as the swarm of her other teammates come crowding her in an excited hug, she’s pulled back into the reality of her win—she could deal with that later.

She stands in the locker room as she’d just gotten out of the shower, kneeling her body against the bench as she searches her pale pink NIKE bag for her sweatshirt. She can feel a presence appear next to her, eyes turning up to her teammate—who was also her cousin and roommate—Peanut, smirking down at her.

“If you’ coming over here to talk shit, please find somebody else to play with.”

“I didn’t even say anything,” Peanut hides her smirk, “What? You’ all mad that your man didn’t stay until the end of the game?”

“You know that’s not my man,” she mutters, “I’m good. Why you’ in my business right now?”

“I’m in your business ‘cause I know you,” Peanut rolled her eyes, chocolate brown skin shining under the lights as she crossed her arms, “You wanna say that’s not your nigga while you’re over here moping cause he didn’t stay behind. Please.”

She begins pulling the black sweatshirt over her head, XAVIER UNIVERSITY OF LOUISIANA labeled in bold yellow beneath the material. Her curls are drenched from the shower, eyes tired as she looks to her cousin, “Are you done? Don’t you have somewhere else to be other than in my ass?”

“Not my fault you’re always so interesting,” Peanut teased, her body leaning against the locker next to her, “You’ve been playing basketball all day and still have the energy to be mean?”

“You’ right, I should be tired from carrying your plays. That’s why you have so much energy to come talk hot shit, none of that was focused on the court,” she zips up her bag, throwing it along her shoulder as she slips on her soft pink New Balances 9060 sneakers.

“I’d say that’s a little disrespectful,” Peanut grins, crossing her arms across her chest, “You only have the energy to play so well ‘cause I let you. Coach was paying attention to you, though. Did you see?”

She sighs, “I want her to pay enough attention that she has a scout come watch our games, Peanut. This shit is starting to feel like high school.”

Peanut scoffed, “I heard you got offers from LSU, Bama, and Howard, yet you chose to stay in New Orleans,” she said, “This? Ain’t high school.”

“I just wanted to be close to my mom,” she reminds her, “You know that.” 

“Or did you wanna be close to that childhood crush of yours?”

Her eyes narrow into a glare, closing her locker as she warns, “Don’t start again, Peanut.”

Yet, it was true. Her and Onyankopon had grown up together due to their families both being from 9th Ward. It was to her dismay that she was in love with him. 

Peanut put her hands up in surrender, “Chill. Chill,” she warns, “I’m just saying. Why’d he leave anyways? Doesn't he stay after?”

She could admit to herself that she wanted to hear how she looked on the court. Maybe she just wanted to hear it from someone’s opinion she always trusted—his.

She sighs, running her fingers through her hair as she replies, “I don’t know. Prolly’ still fuckin’ that big booty bitch on the Majorette team.”

“Oh girl, Ashleigh? Yeah—nah.” 

She raised an eyebrow, “You’ got tea?”

This childhood crush of hers was stereotypically wandering with his eyes, able to accept the advances of any woman that came his way. His current flavor of the month was a brown skinned, extremely curvaceous girl on the college's Majorette team, swinging her hips at all of his games. 

Peanut smirked, grabbing her own bag and began walking out of the locker room with her. A group of other girls on the team passed, waving goodbye to the two cousins. 

“Tea?” She echoed, “I got a whole story on that nigga. Apparently him and Ashleigh off again—he pissed her off, so she threatened to fuck one of his friends.”

That caused her to softly laugh, following beside Peanut as they began walking towards the dorms, “Whatever he did, he probably deserved to be threatened.”

“I love when I get you to actually laugh. You’re too serious these days.” 

They walked past the main library of the school which was always packed with students, the yellow and white building gleaming in the night. Their dorm was just past it. 

“Why don’t you wanna fuck him again? The boy is 90s fine.” 

“Cause I’m not big booty Ashleigh,” she retorts, “To deal with him and his flock of hoes? I’d kill that nigga before he ever played with me.”

“I’d kill him too, I ain’t judging,” Peanut said, “But I’ll tell you what, you’re not big booty Ashleigh—you’re just a big booty, and that’s why he actually looks at you. You know those flocks of hoes are just a front, right? Those girls don’t mean anything to him,”  She looked over at her again, “You do.”

“Here you go—talking again,” she mutters, “You’ watch too many of them’ K-Dramas.”

“This ain’t no K-Drama—it’s real life!” Peanut protested, her hand waving in the air, “You’re the only one he doesn’t treat like a passing phase. He’s been ‘round you for what? Fifteen years?”

“Because he knows our family, Peanut. My uncle—your father—would shoot his ass on sight if he played with me the way he plays with girls on campus. I’m good on that. I got WNBA to get into,” she shrugs, circling her body around, childishly throwing an air ball into the sky.

“Yeah, Yeah—All that is cool. Is that what’s holding you back from liking a nigga?”

“I’d fuck a ball before I fucked him,” she finalizes, “I wanna go ice my ankle. You’ cooking tonight?”

“Sorry, cousin. I’m actually going over to my niggas house,” she playfully mocks the air ball she threw, beginning to back her way towards the other dorms, “Gon’ head and order something for me, though!”

She frowns, a bit bummed since this was her cousin's third night being out of their dorm, leaving her to either study, or watch K-Dramas by herself. She could admit that she was a bit lonely. 

“You ain’t getting shit!” She called back, “Have your nigga feed you!”

“You have a nigga feed you, lonely ass!” She yelled back, causing a few students to glance towards them, “Don’t be mad ‘cause you don’t know what a relationship feels like!” 

Peanut continued to walk away, tossing a hand over her shoulder to wave, “Love you, Sweetpea!”

She’s suffocated by that nickname, following her from elementary school to college. This was her senior year, and she still couldn’t get away from it. Her shoulders fall a bit as she waves back to her, acrylic nails glittering under the streetlights hovered over the dorms, her tattooed fingers and emerald golden ring glinting with it.

 Her eyes turn as she sees a familiar figure walking towards the dorms with his friends—he was finer up close. The yellow embroidery on his varsity jacket went well with his brown skin, facial hair, grills partnering with his sharp jawline. The tattoos along his face should’ve been intimidating, but made him scarily more attractive. He was tall, always slouching to make her more comfortable. She tries to turn as if she didn’t see him, beginning to make her way towards the stairs of the dorm. 

“For real? You’ finna’ ignore a nigga?”

She tongues the inside of her cheek, turning back as she eyes him up and down. She then says, “Just tryna’ get inside and start on this homework.”

His eyes followed every movement of hers, the way the dim light of the evening casted a hazy hue across her caramel skin, her onyx hair swaying along her body as she turned towards him.

“Homework, huh?” He echoed, walking up the last of the stairs to meet her at the top, “I been waiting to see you all day, you ain’t even gon’ say wassup?” 

“Wrong,” she corrects, “If you wanted to see me, you would’ve waited until the game was over, Onyankopon.”

“My lil’ grumpy ass Sweetpea…” He chided, a smirk playing on his full lips as he stepped in front of her, “Don’t act like I wasn’t in the bleachers for the whole game. Coach called for a meeting.”

She narrows her eyes, “Uh-huh. Why don’t you go back to your friends?”

“Ain’t never see you so eager to get rid of me,” He said through a deep chuckle, “You mad for real?” 

She doesn’t want to admit why she’s actually upset. But if she doesn’t, he’s gonna pry it out of her anyways. Her voice is still rough around the edges as she states, “You didn’t tell me how I played today. That’s why I wanted you there after.”

“You played good as fuck like you always do,” He began, taking another step into her personal space, “Them’ other girls ain’t shit. You ain’t need me to tell you that, though.”

She tightens her fingers around her duffle as she releases a breath, “You mean that? Good enough for a scout?”

“Girl, ain’t no question about that,” He smacks his lips, “You’ so good they’d be stupid not to sign you. Them’ bitches were tryna’ play catch-up the whole time. WNBA can’t wait for your ass to drop.”

“Ony,” she warns his language as he refers to the other girls. She takes his words to heart as she always did—he was the one person that she valued in their opinion. 

“My fault. But you know I’d never bullshit you,” he murmured, his other hand coming forward to grab the nape of her neck, “You finna’ go far.”

A pressure in her chest appears at his large palm against her neck—it feels warm. Good. 

Sweetpea smacks her lips as she pulls his arm down, “Where yo’ lil’ girlfriend at, Onyankopon?”

He raises an eyebrow, “You keepin’ tabs on me now?” He questioned, a smirk forming, “Thought you were just focused on the court and your homework. Why you worried about who I got?”

“You’ think I’m worried about a hoe ass nigga? ‘Forget I asked,” she scrunches her nose, returning to making her way fully up the steps.

“Nah nah, you brought it up,” He followed a step behind her, “Why’ you even wanna know ‘bout me and whoever I’m talkin to?”

She pushes the entrance to her dorm, looking back to his group of friends that begin walking away as she changes the subject, “Your friends are leaving, Onyankopon. Can I go inside?”

“You got questions about me and other girls—now you tryna’ run inside,” He pointed out, “Can’t you just say that you missed me?”

“Girls?” She repeats, “Huh. I don’t need my question answered then.” 

The minute she passes by a couple of people with a polite wave, she’s unable to escape the large arm that traps her along the wall just before she can make it to her room door. He places it against the wall, stopping her from walking which makes her back press against it. His cologne hovers over her body as he leans down towards her, making Sweetpea somehow back herself into the wall she was already against.

“Why you always runnin’ away?” He asked, his voice deep, “You think you got a nigga all figured out?” 

He chuckled, the low noise filling her ears. He moved forward, the heat of his body close enough for her to feel it against his own, “Or you don’t like bein’ reminded that you care what I do?”

She can’t admit to him that she’s…the least bit curious for her own entertainment. It wasn’t because of anything else. 

….It wasn’t.

She blinks, “I actually don’t care. Peanut told me your lil’ big booty girl threatened to fuck one of your friends. What’d you do to piss her off?” She raises an eyebrow.

“Damn Peanut,” He muttered,, “I knew I shouldn’t’ve let her know I hooked up with Ashleigh.” 

He rolled his tongue out his mouth,“You wanna know why she was mad at me?”

“Answer the question or I go inside. I’m getting impatient,” she reminds, placing her weight along her feet as she prepares to move his arm, watching as he places his palm right beside her head now. She lets out a heavy sigh.

“She’ mad I’m not acting like her nigga,” He smirked at the way her face scrunched up slightly in frustration, “She’s too obsessed with me.”

“Oh? The world is still Onyankopon Land in that head of yours?” She raises an eyebrow, sarcastically smiling at him.

He looked down with a smile, finding her scowl endearing somehow. 

“I get it now. I know you don’t like me havin’ girlfriends'. My bad, Mama.”

That nickname. And that sentence. It makes a chill rush down her spine. But instead, she pushes out a laugh with her eyebrows raised, pushing past his arm as she begins unlocking her door, “Boy, go home. You’re playing bad as fuck right now.”

His eyes move as she opens her door and steps in, preparing to close it as he then places a sneaker in between the opening before suddenly asking, “Your’ ankle hurt?”

She doesn’t expect the question as she frowns, “Is that your way of asking to come inside? I’m good,” she attempts to close the door.

“It’s a way of sayin’ a nigga worried ‘bout you,” he frowned back, “You can’t blame me after I saw you limp on that ankle during the game.”

She flutters her lashes up, searching around his face as she reads the more serious tone of his expression. Her ankle had been a little weak with all the practices and games, but it was nothing she worried too much about. 

She slides her fingers against the door as she repeats more softly, “I’m fine, Ony. For real.”

“Lemme look at it,” He said, “I can see how swollen it’s gettin’.”

The tone of his voice was soft, but there was also a sternness to it. This nigga was worried about her ankle, forreal.

She glances around her empty apartment before she exhales, opening the door wider to let him in. She places her bag against the kitchen island as she grabs her Hello Kitty ice packet, making her way towards the sofa to sit.

He follows her inside, hands stuffed into the pockets of his varsity jacket. He sits down on the sofa beside her, the soft cushion dipping under his large frame as he eyes her ankle.

“C’mon,” he gruffs, motioning for her to place her leg on his lap.

She places her leg against his lap, beginning to feel the curls of her hair drying up, blowing a tendril out of her face as she fully plopped down next to him. She says, “I think I was just moving too fast.”

He gently holds onto her ankle as she rests it across his lap, his large palm wrapping completely around it. His dark lashes lowered over his eyes as he examined the ankle, his expression neutral. 

“You been doin’ a lot lately,” he lightly touched certain areas on her foot, “The coach got you runnin’ too many drills or somethin’?”

“I just wanna be ready for the game coming up. Coach might bring scouts, you know?” She brings her eyes up to him, “I can take a lil’ pain in that case.”

“And if that pain turns into a damn injury ‘cause your dumbass wanna push too hard,” He challenged, “Then what?”

She gives him a deadpan look, “Now you sound like Peanut.” 

When he twists the ankle around, something in her body alarms itself in a sharp pain, which makes her inhale a breath, attempting to jerk her leg back from him as she piercingly inhales. 

“Nah, don’t do that,” he said with a grunt, his thumb and index finger feeling around for the source of her wince, “What’d ‘you just feel?”

“You’re making it hurt,” pushing his hand away, she tried to stop herself from panicking at the small pain.

He ignored her hand as he continued to hold her ankle, looking up at her face with a serious tone, “Chill out. I need you to tell me exactly where the pain is. You can’t just be playin’ with your fuckin’ ankle.”

As much as he clowned around, she wasn’t the one to bite when he got serious. She points towards the back of her ankle as she softly replies, “Here.”

“You know you gotta ice that more,” he scolded, “Bein’ stubborn all the time ain’t gonna’ get you ‘round the court faster.“

“I know,” she nods, relaxing more as she allows him to lightly massage the area. Her toes nearly curled as it felt so good, she had to dig her fingers in her thigh a bit not to react. 

She tries to bring up the subject again, “You’ really like Ashleigh?”

His fingers paused as she asked the question, his honey eyes looking up at her. 

“You still worried ‘bout that?” He shook his head before he began massaging the area again, “She a lil’ too extra.”

“Maybe you should be nicer to her. That way she isn’t always screaming at you,” Sweetpea suggests, “You’ be having them girls losing their minds. I too would crash out on you.”

Despite what she might think of him, he could tell she was actually being serious. He was used to all the jokes, the sarcasm, and the usual smartass replies she always fired back with. 

He rolled his tongue along his lower lip again with a smirk, “You’d crash out over me, huh?”

“I’m serious, Ony.”

She ignores the way her face goes warm, “You’ve had your attention on her for more than a month now—which is longer than your attentiveness with any girl. So don’t mess that up by…being you.”

A low chuckle slips from his full lips, “You tellin’ me to stop bein’ too cool for my own good? Since when you’ start liking Ashleigh?” 

“I ain’t saying I like her—I’m just saying.”

He leans back a little more on the sofa, his hands pausing their working on her ankle. He raises an eyebrow at her, a smile on his face, “You worried about me, huh?”

“You say me playing around on the court won’t get me anywhere but an injury, I could say the same for you. Quit playing with that girl's heart if you don’t actually like her. Somebody’s gonna come along that you might actually like, and when they pull a you on you,  it’s gonna hurt.”

He kept his eyes on her ankle, silently nodding as she lectured him. This would be the one time he didn’t want to fire back with a smart remark as the seriousness in her voice made him feel a bit scolded. 

“You ever think you were made for some sorta advice hotline?” he finally mumbled, “You tryna’ be my life coach now?”

She rolled her eyes, giving a soft giggle as she replied, “Being a good person is free as fuck.”

He let out another low chuckle, his expression softening a bit at the sound of her laugh. 

“You ain’t wrong,” he says quietly, his large fingers continuing to massage her ankle, “But she knew I didn’t want nothin’ serious with her from the jump. Not my fault if she got it twisted somewhere in the process. She just started saying I was her nigga.”

“Well, did you make her feel like you were?” She raises an eyebrow, “Did you say no when she called you that?”

He shrugged his shoulders indifferently, a nonchalant look on his face, “I don’t take it seriously when a girl calls me they’ boyfriend. Probably be fuckin’ them too good.”

She tilts her head, “Boy, bye. You ain’t giving bitches that type of dick—And maybe you should clarify you’re not their boyfriend? Don’t leave the door revolving, otherwise it causes miscommunication.”

“Shiiidd, I be havin’ them like—Oooohshit, Daddy,” he mockingly moans, tickling her ankle which makes her giggle again. 

She shakes her head, “I didn’t need to know all that. But I meant what I said—if  you don’t want them seriously, tell them that, Ony. That’s all.”

“You done preachin’ to me now?”

“No, I’m not. Since you’ so worried about my health, have you been going to physical therapy Mr. I almost tore my ACL last year? Is it giving you any issues on the field?” 

“It happened more than a year and a half ago,” he glares, “Why you’ bringing that up?”

“Cause I know how much it scares you to be without football,” she points out, “And if you can admit to loving something, football is that.”

He didn’t respond for a moment, his dark eyes staring down at her ankle as he massaged it. He didn’t realize that she had known him that well. 

He finally sighs, “I go to my physical therapy. I’ve been taking rest days and shit. Happy?”

She could tell he wanted to leave it there. So, she does. When she nods her head, that cocky grin appears back on his face as he asks, “You’ coming to my game tomorrow?”

“I’d never miss it. You know that.”

“Damn right you ain’t,” he responded, the smirk remaining on his lips, “You’ betta’ be in the stands cheerin’ like hell for me.”

“Let’s not say all that,” she laughs, “But I’ll be there.” 

His smile widened at the sound of her laugh, his eyes staring at the expression on her face—how her nose would scrunch up a bit when she giggled.

“Damn right you will,” he repeated, suddenly lifting her leg up and placing it back onto his lap, “You can get some special VIP access to my locker room after. I’ll need you to give me some physical therapy.”

“Onyankopon. I will kill you.”

“You’ already got my heart, Mama. Last time I checked, I’m dead.” 

“Onyankopon?”

“Huh?” 

“Get out.”

                                            𝓐ᥫ᭡

THE EXCITEMENT OF THE NEXT DAY ROLLED INTO THE NIGHT. The sun was beginning to set, lighting a fire amongst the entire campus as it was their favorite time—the football game. Everyone was geared up in their school's attire, or spun the colors within their own style, prideful in representing their HBCU’s team. The bleachers were filled with bodies, a sense of young adult spirit filling the entire stadium. Scents of nachos, pizza and beignets filled Sweetpea’s nostrils, almost more distracting than the thrum in her chest from the band performing loudly, the majorette team equally matching with their performance.

The team all stood in the locker room, many of them pacing while the coach gave his final speech about how he expected them to play. A few guys huddled together in the far corner as they discussed and strategized their plays.

All, except one. 

Onyankopon sat on a wooden bench in the corner, his dark eyes staring down at the floor. While everyone else was still gearing up for the game, he was fully dressed in his jersey—his muscular silhouette visible underneath. He always needed this time to himself. To pray, to run the plays within his mind, to think.

The crowd cheered as the team began running out onto the field, Sweetpea standing as she cheered next to Peanut, clapping as cleats sunk into the synthetic grass. Her eyes went straight to the last player that entered, the crowd somehow becoming louder at the entrance of the quarterback. 

His blacked out protective gear made him look even bigger, shadows of his tattoos beneath the material of the long-sleeve he wore under his jersey, holding his helmet beneath the bright yellow gloves on his large palms. A chill ran over her body as his teammates hyped themselves up, his arm raising to flex the muscles within, tongue sticking out arrogantly to symbolize his power. She didn’t think he’d actually notice her in the crowd—but she was hard to miss. 

Her dark hair was sprawled around her face in soft waves, sheer yellow and black top clinging to her waist, showing the midriff of her belly piercing and stomach. Dark grey wash shorts that showed the harsh poke of her hips and ass that created a Coke bottle silhouette, thin silver heels strapped against her ankles. Her fox eyes were slender with fluffy lashes, brown freckles sprucing along her caramel face, lips outlined with brown liner. 

He rarely saw her out of her basketball attire, but when he did, he couldn’t stop looking. She gave him a sweet wave, unaware of how impure she truly looked.

He couldn’t help the smirk that pulled through his full lips, raising his arm to give her a wink before bringing his focus back to the coach, running a few extra laps to warm up. 

The XULA football team always played as if they were in  the NFL, Onyankopon leading them in ways no one else could. He ran across the field like nothing, a similarity between him and Sweetpea as they had control of the ball at a constant. Touchdown after touchdown, they were whooping the opposing team effortlessly.

Onyankopon ran down the field, achieving another touchdown before making his way over to the sideline, pulling off his helmet as he reached the water table. He grabbed a towel with one hand, dumping water over the other and running it through his tatted face as he looked up, scanning the crowd. 

His dark eyes immediately found hers again.

Her cousin was too wrapped up in the attention of her boyfriend to see how they stared at one another. Sweetpea had been around Onyankopon enough to allow her school girl crush to falter, but each time he gave her that look, it’s like all of her emotions appeared again.

 The minute she tried to give him another wave, she brought her hand down as she saw his attention on none other than Ashleigh, who was performing within her majorette team on the field. She swung her hips with the choreography, blowing him a kiss as she bent down with her baton. She was every man’s fantasy on campus—silky dark hair, dark grey eyes, chocolate brown skin, body perfect in her yellow one piece, sparkly black headband against her forehead as she danced.

Of course he would be looking at her. 

Ashleigh gave him an exaggerated wink as she twirled around the field. It seemed like she made it her priority to give him the most attention whenever she saw him. 

Onyankopon finally looked away and brought the towel to his face as a grin tugged at his lips again, his mind drifting. Typical.

“You’ good?” Peanut noticed her cousins’ face, slowing down on the attention of her nachos.

“Yeah, I’m good,” Sweetpea murmured, leaving her thoughts to herself, focusing back on the game itself. She was fine.

Their football team had successfully won in their home field, cheering wildly at their additional victory. With their win, they celebrated as they usually did—a party within a frat house off campus.

 It was closer to downtown New Orleans, only blocks away from Bourbon street. It was a city that never slept, a thrive somewhere other than New York could produce. Music blared throughout the mansion—songs like Back That Azz Up by Juvenile, to BOP by Big Boogie— bodies moved to the beat, talking and laughing amongst each other in a happy radiance.

Onyankopon was right in the middle of it all, his team crowded around as they celebrated with him, all the girls at the party practically glued to their hips, Ashleigh being attached to him.

Sweetpea entered the party, clasping the hand of her cousin when she immediately found the eyes of Onyankopon. He had one arm wrapped around the waist of Ashleigh—who was currently wearing his varsity jacket—her hand gently caressing his broad chest as she whispered in his ear. His other hand was around a beer, taking a long drink as his dark eyes scanned the crowd. She pressed her lips together, giving a weak smile as she waved again, before being pulled towards her own group of friends.

He caught sight of her, his eyes glued on her frame as she moved through the crowded mansion. It made him clutch his beer as her hips twisted with each movement, ass shaking beneath her shorts. 

“Onyankopon?” Ashleigh whined, pouting her big lips as they curved downwards.

“Huh?” 

“You want another beer?” she asks, pulling his mouth down to meet hers.

“Fasho,” he murmurs against her lips, “‘Preciate it, Love.” 

Ashleigh wrapped herself tighter against his side, looking up at him as she tried to grab his attention. She then stood up, giving him one more kiss as she was making her way towards the table of drinks, seeing as Sweetpea stood there, trying to mix vanilla Coke with Crown for a richer taste.

Sweetpea glances at the girl, seeing her wearing a short skirt and crop top, body perfectly snug in her outfit under the jacket. Her hair was in curls now, and she looked as pretty as she always did. Pretty enough to always have Onyankopon’s attention. 

Ashleigh wasn’t a mean girl—that’d be too typical. However, she was a girl that did…notice the relationship between this girl and her man. She just wanted to check Sweetpea’s temperature. 

“Hey, Sweetpea!”

She has to pull back the roll in her eyes, giving her a smile as she greets, “Wassup, Ashleigh?”

“Not much,” Ashleigh makes a point to run a hand over Onyankopon’s jacket, “Grabbing a beer for my man, just saw you and figured I’d say hey!” 

Sweetpea instantly notices the movement, clearing her throat as she exhales, “Y’all just got here?”

“Nope. Been here a good twenty minutes,” she responded, watching her closely as she continued to rub her hand against the material. 

“Onyankopon is still pretty fired up from the game,” she giggles, “He’s all high and mighty after a win, can’t keep his damn hands off me. But I’m sure you know that.”

Sweetpea gives a small laugh to kill the awkwardness she feels, bringing the drink to her lips in hopes that would help this conversation, “Yeah…he’s uh—something else.”

“But girl, let’s talk about you! I never saw you outside of that basketball jersey. You’re actually passing for a bad bitch tonight!”

She could feel the passive aggression in her tone. She didn’t have to question it. One thing about that nickname of hers, it definitely was a representation of how she presented herself—sweet, not much to say. Just like now. 

Her attention is pulled by Onyankopon wrapping an arm over Ashleigh’s shoulders, teasing voice as he questions, “You’ bullying her?”

“Of course not, Daddy. I’m just having a chit chat with my friend,” she responds, giving a flutter of her eyelashes, “But speaking of, I’m finna’ go check on my girls!” 

She raises her lips up to give him a peck on the chin, giving Sweetpea another wave as she dismisses, “See you, girl! Watch my man for me!”

Sweetpea gives her an equally fake wave, waiting until she’s away from them before she glances back to Onyankopon, “She’s lovely, isn’t she?”

He shakes his head as he watches Ashleigh’s curvy figure walk over to her own friends. She always knew how to get under someone’s skin. 

“Ain’t you finna’ ask me all my stats for the game?” he mutters, smirking down at her as he crosses his arms, leaning over the table beside them.

She tilts her head a bit, the flow of her hair wafting his nose of jasmine and vanilla as she sighs, “Hmm, no. But I bet you’re gonna tell me.”

Her scent makes him want to growl like an animal, but he assumes it’s the beer. It has to be. 

“Two-hundred and forty passing yards, three-hundred and fifteen total yards. Four touchdowns, zero turnovers.”

She leans along the table as well, giving him a small smile as she corrects, “Five touchdowns—they tried to foul you, and you almost smacked the referee.”

He smiles like a giddy child, “So you’ was’ watching me.”

“If I say you’re the only reason I come to the games, your ego might put you in cardiac arrest,” she rolls her eyes, “I watch you just as much as you be on my ass during my games. Just returning the favor.”

“Mhm. You look good as fuck tonight.”

She feels her face become a bit warm, taking another sip of her drink, beginning to feel the buzz as she smacks her lips, “Save all that for Ms. Big Booty in your varsity jacket.”

“You’ just as thick,” he responds in a low tone, “Be makin’ the ground shake at every game. You’ can barely fit them shorts.”

That gets her to actually giggle, punching his arm as she says, “Shut the fuck up, and quit staring at my ass. You’ got a whole lil’ girlfriend to be diligent with.”

He chuckles as she hits him, “Who says I be starin’ at your ass? I was starin’ at them thighs, mothafucka’s is colossal.” 

“Only thing colossal is that big ass head of yours. If we put you under a satellite, the wifi cranking up in here!” She snaps back, “Yeah, that was good, huh?” She chuckles at his full on laugh. It was deep, genuine. Maybe even sexy.

“Yo’ ass so stupid,” he shakes his head, “Got the nerve to call me the comedian?”

He pauses, his eyes raking over her frame again. He was always looking at her. But this time, he sees her. Her brown freckles, the scrunch she made when she glanced around the room, the way she glowed beneath the dark purple lighting of the party. 

“Damn, you really are fine as hell when you don’t have an attitude.”

She rolls her eyes, trying to push away the feeling of her heart fluttering, “There you go talking again.”

“And there you go rolling them’ eyes…” He responds, raising his hand and using his thumb and index finger to tap her chin, “It’s cute.”

She pushes his hand away, “You want another reason for Ashleigh to burn that expensive ass varsity jacket of yours?”

“That girl will find a way to get mad at me even if I look at my shadow,” he smacks his lips, “Maybe I should’ve had you wearing it. You’ the one remembering all my plays.”

His skin equally glows beneath the lights, chains and grills shining against his black shirt, clung to his muscular frame in a way that compliments him, the colorful ink on his body, all of him—she sees him as well. There it was—those emotions returning to her. 

Maybe it was time to admit them. 

She swallows, holding her cup between her fingers as she whispers, “Ony—“

“Aye, fine shit.” 

Her eyes pull back to one of Onyankopon’s friends, a light skinned dreadhead all too familiar on campus. His bright pink lips, full goatee, brown eyes seemingly mischievous.

“Oh, um—hey, Rashaud,” she greets with a weak smile, pushing down everything she wanted to say.

“Come dance with me,” he tells her.

“Me?” She blinks.

Rashaud stands next to Sweetpea, his eyes roaming over her figure for a brief moment before he glances at his friend. 

“Yeah, you. You’ the only fine ass honey not on the floor with me,” he responds, his eyes lingering on the smooth tone of her thighs as she shifts them. He looks her up and down again, “Or you gon’ let a bunch of other niggas’ grind all over you?” 

Onyankopon’s eyes narrowed at him, a small frown pulling at his brow as he watched the interaction. He was irked.

She’s not used to having someone flirt with her like this. She blinks, “Um—“

“Girl, come dance! My song is on!”

Peanut comes swooping in as well, pulling her towards the crowd as Bring It Back by Travis Porter has everyone swarming towards the dance floor. Sweetpea gives Onyankopon an apologetic look as she’s being pulled away by her cousin and his friend. 

Even with Sweetpea’s shy demeanor at times, she knew how to have a good time. Bodies flood around her as she dances with Rashuad, ass pressed up against his hips as she grinds to the beat, eyes low, body intoxicated as he has a grip on her hair, tugging her down to meet his rhythm.

Onyankopon’s eyes narrowed even more, cooling his blood that warms beneath his skin as he takes a sip of his beer. 

…Why did he feel some type of way?  

His eyes locked onto her hair grasped between Rashaud’s large fingers, her body grinding against him slowly, looking him straight in the eye. Something in his jaw tightened, and maybe his dick jumped. 

His attention is pulled away as he feels arms wrap around his waist, Ashleigh interrupting him as she questions, “You’ gon give me some attention or keep watching Sweetpea bounce her ass on Rashaud?”

“I’m focused on you, girl. You’ the one I came with.” 

It wasn’t a whole lie, he did come with her. But a sudden  possession came over him when he thought about Sweetpea— and it was nothing like a brother, or a friend.

He’s back to glancing down as he hears Ashleigh smack her lips, pulling her arms back as she says, “Yeah, whatever nigga. I’m finna’ fuck around and find somebody else to dance with.”

She doesn’t give him the opportunity to respond as she left him, Onyankopon now actually irritated. But instead of doing anything, he takes another sip of his beer, preparing to grab for another one.

Sweetpea spent the rest of her night accompanied by Rashaud, although he was becoming a bit suffocating. She enjoyed the dance she’d given him, but that’s all she really wanted. 

When people begin making their way out the door, his dreads hover over her face as he questions, “You’ finna’ come to my dorm?” 

She gives him a light laugh, “Nah, I got a game tomorrow. Need all the rest I can get.”

A frown pulled at his lips, “Aww, really? You gon’ be up by yo’ self when you could be gettin’ company from me? Damn, Mami. You’ heartless.”

She laughs softly, “I’m sure you can find someone else to accompany you. Didn’t Onyankopon ride with you anyways?”

“He did. But I don’t know where that’ nigga at. If you see him, tell him I’m leaving. Otherwise a bitch finna’ be in the passenger,” he dismisses, Sweetpea chuckling, “Noted,” as he walks off.

She pushes her way through the bodies as she finds Ashleigh before Peanut, not wanting to speak to her, but her parental mode is beginning to switch on—where the hell was he? 

“Yo’, you’ seen Onyankopon?”

Ashleigh glances at Sweetpea, the irritation clearly present on her face as she answers, “I don’t know. He’ got me tight as hell, left me to talk to some other niggas and never answered my calls or texts when I was looking for him. I assumed he was with you,” she gives her an up and down, still glaring.

“Rashaud says he’s not getting a ride back to his car if he doesn’t leave now,” Sweetpea ignores Ashleigh’s attitude, “Are you taking him home?”

“Tuh! He got legs, he can make it,” she answers, rolling her eyes, “He chose to leave my ass, that’ nigga can find his way home. Matter of fact, you can take him, imma’ ask Rashaud to take me home.”

And with that, she’s already making her way to the exit, lightly bumping Sweetpea on the way out. She raises her eyebrows at the encounter, feeling her cousin come beside her as she mutters, “Ain’t she lovely?”

“Mhm,” Sweetpea murmurs, Peanut adding, “You gon’ be good to get Onyankopon home?” 

“If I find him.” 

“His ass’ too big to be lost,” Peanut says, shaking her head as she wasn’t surprised.

She spots several of his friends during her search, but no sign of him at all. She does one more search inside the fraternity as she goes upstairs, about to leave when she halts. 

She spots him leaned against one of the game rooms couches, snoring like a bear. She has to hold back her laugh—he was like an infant, sleeping anywhere he could. 

She sighs, leaning down as she smacks his forehead, “C’mon, boy. I’d like to go home.”

He groans loudly, his eyebrows furrowing as she interrupts his sleep. She’s pretty, even if his vision is blurry. 

“Damn, why you smackin’ me?”

“Cause you’ve somehow managed to piss off all the people who would’ve taken you back to your car tonight, and now I have to be a chauffeur for your drunk ass. Get up,” she tugs at his shirt, the action no effort to his weight.

“Ain’t nobody drunk, girl. I’m just sleepy.”

Another trait of his sleepiness—the grumpiness that also consumed it. She knows him.

 She exhales a bit as she then asks, “Want tacos?” 

He perks up, one eye opening fully as the word leaves her lips, “You buyin’?”

“Yes—“

He shoots up, leaning on her smaller frame to balance himself, almost toppling the both of them over that it causes Sweetpea to squeak. 

She places his arm over her shoulders as she helps him walk, “You’re a mess.”

“You’re tiny,” he responds, letting her bear the majority of his weight against her smaller frame, “I ain’t even that heavy—how they’ let your lil’ ass play ball?” 

It takes her ten minutes to make it to the taco stand, there to sober up drunk college students like the man sitting in her passenger seat. She could tell his headache was coming on as he covered his face with his hand, Sweetpea giving a kind smile to the worker as she took to-go boxes within her palms, climbing back into the car and placing the styrofoam on his lap.

“I got your birria tacos. And there’s someTylenol packets I grabbed from the corner store. Take those first,” she orders, reaching in her backseat for a bottle of water.

Once he managed to gain control of his headache, he opened his tacos up, the heavenly aroma of birria filling the car as he began eating them immediately. He’s already halfway finished while she hadn’t even pulled away from the stand. 

He was a greedy drunk.

She drives down the road back towards her dorm, holding back her giggle as she tells him, “Please don’t suffocate because you’re not swallowing your food.”

“If I die, know that these are good ass tacos.”

He’d practically eaten two, reaching in the container for another one before glancing at her, “How come you ain’t eat none?”

“I’ll eat later. I just didn’t want you to be hungover,” she glances at him, “Your lil’ Ashleigh didn’t seem to care where you ended up tonight. How’d you manage to piss her off again?”

“She got mad when me and Rashaud went to smoke. ‘Thought I was out there with some bitch, had a tantrum and started blowing my shit up, so I had to put my phone on DND.”

He stuffed another bite in his mouth before continuing to talk again.

“Girl gets on all my nerves.”

“You like her,” Sweetpea shrugs, “But next time, at least be nice to her before you gotta leave a party? You’ got my gas tank low because I have to go move your car to make sure you don’t get towed.”

“Aye— she was the one who got upset, not me. I wasn’t rude— just ignored that ass,” his head was still pounding, a reminder that he was still pretty wasted, “I can move my own car and fill up your tank. My bad, shawty.”

“You think I’m letting you drive? You’ve been drinking,” she shakes her head, “It’s fine.”

“Don’t act like you ain’t been drinkin’ too. I saw you, bouncing your ass all over Rashaud.”

She could hear the sharpness in his words, raising an eyebrow as she turned the corner, “It was just a dance.”

When he doesn’t respond and glances down at his phone, the both of them go quiet. Onyankopon’s tipsy ears began  hearing a familiar instrumental on the radio—Can We Talk by Tevin Campbell—turning up the song as he howled, “Oooh, that’s that shit!”

Sweetpea rolls her eyes, giggling softly as she watches him drunkenly sing along, swinging his arms, clutching her legs to the music.

 She smacks him away as she continues, “Anyways, Rashaud just wants somebody to hump on. I want a nigga who’s gonna sing outside my window. Some stupid, cheesy, romantic shit. Not some hookup after a party. However, some head would be nice at the moment,” she shrugs.

He eyes her for a moment, eyes darkening at her words, “You want a simp ass nigga,” he confirms, the word leaving his lips with a slight hint of disdain, “Who gon’ do all that corny, lame bullshit.”

To think that she wanted to confess her feelings to him earlier that night, his tone now irritates her. She parks in front of his shiny black Charger, turning towards him as she narrows her eyes, “Call it what you want. If I dealt with the bullshit you play with Ashleigh, I’d turn your ass every way fuckin’ loose on this campus. I’d never let a nigga play with me. You’ wanna keep fishin’ for pussy, that’s cool. You’ll feel empty later.”

She raises her hand, “Give me your keys.”

He’s silent for a moment, his brain slowly processing her words before he finally realizes what she’s actually upset about. But he couldn’t respond—didn’t really know how to. So instead, his hand reached in his pocket to fish out his keys, placing them in her palm in silence.

She hates that it’s now awkward, but she was annoyed with him. She didn’t need him to like her back. But with a mentality like that, it was telling her everything she needed to know before she got the chance to express herself. 

She parked his car in her lot, pulling her Coach purse over her shoulder as they began making their way into her dorm. She was quiet, pushing open the door as she knew Peanut wasn’t home. 

He feels guilty. He could try cracking a joke—but he knew her better than that. 

She tosses her keys as she makes her way to the sofa, now feeling the ache of her feet in these heels as she bends down to begin untying them. Her light groan fills the room as he soles throb by the second.

When he hears her groan of pain from her sore feet, he can’t help himself. He’s taking a seat on the other side of the sofa, reaching for her foot that she was struggling with. 

“C’mere.”

“I’m fine,” she murmurs, beginning to untie them faster, the ribbon becoming more tangled as she does this in frustration.

“Don’t start being stubborn now, shawty,” his large hand grabbing her ankle and tugging her towards him, “I said c’mere. Just lemme help you.”

She rolls her eyes, stopping the fight she wants to give as she allows him to help her. She leans herself on the elbow dug into the sofa’s material, blowing her hair out of her face as a habit. She was the one for silent treatment, but she didn’t have time for that at this moment. 

“You’ really meant what you said in the car?”

“What I said about you wantin’ a simp ass nigga?” 

He starts massaging the arch of her foot, working his thumb into the  tight muscle. The feeling makes her foot twitch, the alcohol in her system making this massage a little too good. She nods her head, adjusting herself as she feels her body throb in lower places.

“You deserve better than a nigga who’s gonna people-please his way into some pussy.” 

“I’m not asking for a doormat, Ony. I was just saying I don’t want that bullshit you play on all these girls. Arguing, miscommunication, confusion. It’s too much,” she admits with a shrug, “I don’t know how you do it.”

“I do it cause it’s fun,” he admits, watching his fingers work on massaging her foot, “Ain’t none of my relationships serious. You on the other hand…ain’t never been in a relationship. How you’ know you want all that?”

“How do you know what you’ve never experienced?” She turns the question on him, “Have you ever been in love with someone to know that something serious feels just as good as what you call fun?”

Now that was a question. 

“I have been in love with someone, yeah.”

She doesn’t expect that answer. She sighs a bit, leaning herself more on her hand as she says, “I think that being soft isn’t the worst thing in the world. I know I can be…a lil’ rough around the edges. Someone to remind me that it’s okay to be all girly, lovey, corny, wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.” 

Her eyes fall to her lap, playing with her fingers at her admission.

“Don’t say that, man. Ain’t no nigga out here would see you as the rough type,” he shakes his head, “You’re the sweetest person I know. You just got’ no filter and you don’t take bullshit. That’s different.”

A soft laugh pulls from her at that, eyes closing as she hums from his hands loosening the tense muscles on her feet. She sighs, “You’re saying that to be nice. You’re a sweetie when you massage my feet.”

“I’m serious. You ain’t rough at all—just my pretty ass girl who plays ball.”

Her eyes come open a bit as she repeats, “My?”

He realizes his mistake, freezing in place before he quickly clarifies, “You know what I meant.”

Another air of silence between them. It’s like a tension is building, and she’s not sure where it’s coming from. They’d been alone many times before, but this was different. 

She pulls her leg back a bit as she groans, “Fuckin’ feet still hurt. Maybe I need a shower.”

She goes to stand, when she’s suddenly captured by large arms, cuffed under her ass as she’s lifted within the air. She shrieks, “Onyankopon!”, stifling out a shocked giggle as he travels into her bedroom, flopping them down onto the bed. 

“The only thing you need to be doing right now is laying down and lettin’ me take care of yo’ ass for once,” he responds, landing right on top of her, pinning her underneath his body in the process. 

She tilts her head a bit, the intoxication of the night's previous drink suddenly catching up to her. She’s floaty as she giggles, “You’re drunk, you can’t take care of me.”

“You think I can’t?” he smacks his lips, “Better than any simp ass nigga ever could.”

“So you wanna take place of my metaphorical nigga?” She blinks, giggling even more. 

“No, I’m gon’ be your very literal nigga.”

Fuck, here it was again. That tension she questioned earlier. Their eyes are pouring into another’s, and she can’t help herself at this point. 

Sweetpea does it before she thinks—she leans her head up as she gently presses her lips to his, kissing him.

Oh.

He’s caught off guard by this, his brain frozen from processing the small kiss—But the sweetness of her lips are intoxicating. Within seconds, his brain starts to function again and he’s kissing her back, lips moving with hers in a slow, passionate rhythm.

It was nothing like she’d expected. When she feels his tongue in her mouth, heavy, is when she realizes she kissed him. 

She pulls back, one hand against the side of his neck as she presses her other fingers to her mouth, warmth against her face as she says softly, “…I’m sorry.”

He’s still hovering over her, his head spinning from the intense kiss. When she pulled away, it was almost like a bucket of ice water was thrown on him, mind racing over what had just happened. 

“You don’t gotta—I ain’t mad you did that, Mama,” he responds, trying his best to keep his voice even, “You don’t gotta apologize.”

“I didn’t—“ she pulls herself up a bit, “I’m sorry. I just thought—fuck, I’m stupid. I’m sorry,” she can’t stop apologizing.

“Cut that out,” he grunts, moving one of his arms to take hold of her chin, making her look at him, “Talk to me. Why are you apologizing?”

“Kissing means a lot more to me than what it means to you, Onyankopon,” she narrows her eyes, “I need to go shower, and you’re still drunk.”

Those words sting. A lot. 

“You think that meant nothin’ to me?” The grip on her chin becoming tighter, “Like I’m some nigga for shits and giggles?”

She’s full on glaring at him now,  “That’s what you make yourself to be. I’m not tryna’ get in your crossfire.”

“You know that’s bullshit. I’m not that nigga I make myself out to be—Not with you.”

“That’s supposed to make me feel better? That everything’s suddenly so different with me? If you felt like that, why are you only saying it cause I kissed you?” 

She runs her fingers through her hair, sighing with a humorless laugh, “This is stupid.” 

“Why’d you do it, then? Huh? Why’d you kiss me if you didn’t want shit to change?”

“We’ve both been drinking.”

He smacks his lips, “I ain’t even drunk no more—be for real with me. I wouldn’t be mad if you felt something for me. If you want me.” 

“It doesn’t matter whether I want you—You don’t have to want me because that’s what I’m looking for.” 

She’s being deceptive, but it’s better than getting herself hurt.

“You think I don’t want you? You think that I don’t have feelings for you?”

She’s feeling her throat becoming tight, looking him up and down as her voice becomes soft, “…I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” He’s leaning down so he’s eye level with her, “Damn near twenty years of knowin’ each other and you don’t know?”

She moves her face back a bit, arms crossed over her chest as she feels that pounding return in her ears. She knew there was a possibility of feelings being reciprocated, but to hear it out loud, it’s as if she’d gone deaf. 

Her breath comes out uneven as his mouth is closer to hers, pressing her hand against his chest as she repeats, “I don’t.” 

“Don’t fuckin’ play with me,” his jaw clenches at her response, leaning even closer as his breath hits her face.

She clutches the material of his shirt as she shudders, “Move, Onyankopon.”

He leans closer, close enough for his lips to almost touch hers. His voice is deep—she can’t think at this point.

 He grunts, “Let me have you. You’ being hardheaded.”

It’s as if she’d run a marathon. She clutches his shirt tighter, unsure if she wanted to pull him just a centimeter closer, or fully push him away. Her breathing is unsteady as her eyes falter shut. 

She nods her head as she begs, “…Kiss me, please.”

He doesn’t waste another second, bringing his hand to cup around the back of her neck as he roughly crushes his lips into hers.

His mouth feels heavy again, Sweetpea breathless against his lips as he tongues her down, eyes rolling back from something as simple as a kiss—She’s spinning. The strength of his lips travel as they drop down to her throat, her fingers sliding down his back with every movement, grazing her nails into the skin as she softly gasps, “…O—Ony…”

He’s leaving hickeys along her neck, biting and sucking the skin as he moves between each spot. Her nails in his flesh makes him groan. 

“You gotta stop digging in my shit like that,” he mutters in between each hickey, licking and soothing the mark he made before sucking another one, “Makes me wanna do sum’ you’ not ready for.”

“I’m—sorry,” she whispers, bringing her fingers to the nape of his neck, pressing him closer to her throat as she embarrassingly pleads, “I…like when you kiss me here…”

He groans again, latching his lips back onto her neck as he sucks on the sensitive skin, leaving hickey after hickey. 

“Yeah? Like that?” He can’t help but lowly chuckle, turning it into a grunt, “Where else you’ like me kissin’ you?”

She could feel a throb beginning to form between her legs. Her back shudders into an arch, Onyankopon’s lips catching her nipples nudging through the thin material of her top, roughly kissing at them as his mouth goes down lower, lower…

Her fingers are against his arm as her head comes up, her heart beating within her chest as her cheeks flush, “I—I don’t k—know,” jerking away from him each time he moves.

“You tellin’ me you don’t know where else you want me kissin’ you?” He’s now looking up at her under the shadows of his lashes, tongue running along his lips as if he were preparing for a meal.

His fingers are like Velcro against her skin, sliding beneath her top, clinging against her chest as his lips suck up pieces of her stomach, spreading her legs in between his body. Her ankles slide along his backside, legs dropping against his shoulders as he puts them there—she feels like her heart might start beating outside of her chest. 

She grips along his arm as she moves with him, trembling under his touch as she exhales, “I—Ony….” She can’t speak.

“You sound good as fuck sayin’ my name like that,” he huffs as he moves lower, “Like you ain’t never said it before…keep that shit up.”

She catches herself over thinking, knowing that she wasn’t nearly as experienced as him—she really didn’t know what she wanted. She hated how shy she felt, but this moment didn’t feel like it existed in her mind, it was like a hazy dream. Blame it on the alcohol. 

With that intoxicated courage, she presses her legs together as she raises her hips, beginning to peel her shorts off her body. Her embarrassment floods the river within her mind as she sees his jaw clench. Pulling him up into a distracting kiss, she closes her eyes to rid the self-consciousness. 

The kiss he returns feels impatient. He’s sucking against her tongue, losing to the temptation he’s holding back to devour her— he just can’t help himself. 

When her legs spread back open, the caramel skin disappears beneath the bubblegum pink of her pussy, glistening from her arousal. It makes him practically famished.

 He pulls himself back, “You’ pretty as fuck, don’t do all that…” placing her legs back over his shoulders, locking his eyes down with an almost awed expression. 

“Damn…”

He’s kissing her thighs, voice low into the crook of her inner skin as he compliments, “Pussy pretty as fuck, I gotta give her a kiss.” 

He lowers his mouth down to come in contact with how wet she already is, nudging his lips in between the folds. He welcomes the nub into his mouth as he gives it a french kiss, tongue tossing her clit that throbs as he makes contact with it. She whimpers, raising her hand onto his head, sliding against the softness of his braids, wanting to jump out of her skin at this very moment. Why did it already feel so good?

That whimper— It’s the most vulnerable he’s heard her. He grunts, “Ain’t never tasted some pussy like this,” swirling his tongue lower to have it sink in between her folds, the mixture of arousal and saliva beginning to collect in his beard. His jaw is dropping up and down in repetitions, opening his mouth wider to catch every single part of her—she’s like candy, a reward after a game, a prize no one else could receive. Her taste explodes across his senses, making him growl low in his throat.

Her lips part, an almost shocked look on her face as she gasps, chest arching up as she brings her eyes down to watch. It’s almost like a torturous tickle, another shuddering whimper plummeting from her mouth as she frowns, “Agh—Ony…” his tongue dragging every which way on her pussy, hovering over her opening to have another make out session with her clit.

This is his alcohol, his drug of choice. He's giving her slow licks, his hot breath causing her muscles to flutter in a way that has him moan, “Ooh shit, pussy gettin’ tight from my mouth…”

He’s smearing her wetness across her folds and inner thighs, hands gripping her ass firmly, kneading the plump cheeks as he gives the skin a spank, Sweetpea full on moaning in response. Onyankopon looks up at her with lust-filled eyes, "Yeah, I wanna hear that. Keep that the fuck up.”

Her head falls back against the bed as she releases tiny moans, hearing her own voice in her ears making her cheeks hot. He’s relentless, slurping her up so that it creates a loud sound within the room, head swiveling side to side, up and down, in circles, her arousal floods the sheets beneath her body. When his tongue drags down to meet her opening with a filthy kiss, it sinks in all at the same time, making her whine out, “Fuck,” trembling as she gasps, pressing her knees to her chest to hold her shaking legs.

Grunting in satisfaction at her reaction, Onyankopon takes it further, licking her entrance before pushing his tongue back inside, curling it up to stroke her inner walls. He pulls back, letting out a deep rumble, "Damn, you taste so fuckin’ good,” his own eyes nearly rolling back, “Fuck…” 

Slurp, slurp, the sounds fill the air in a nasty way, his nose pressed against her swollen lips. He's licking her up and down, from her clit to her entrance, going as deep as possible without pushing back inside, savoring her flavor. She’s clawing at his skin, shaking like a leaf in a way she didn’t expect herself to. He’d never been so fixated on a girl, so enthralled—he couldn't stop himself. 

Onyankopon leans up to capture her lips in a rough kiss, swallowing her cries under his tongue as he thrusts in and out, mimicking the act they both crave.

Her fingers go to touch him, palms trembling so much that she can barely get a grip along his skin, kissing him back in such a consuming muddle.

He chuckles darkly, "Look at you, all fucked up,” lips latching back down to her clit, his free hand reaching up to tangle in her hair, tugging her head back to add more pleasure, yanking her down to meet the aching wait of his mouth.

Pleasure wasn’t even the word at this point. She feels faint, spots within her vision as his other fingers press between her plump lips, pulling her by the bite of her teeth to watch him. 

She muffles in between her whimpers, “O—Ony—” she feels panicked, as if she doesn’t know how this could feel so good, pressing her hand to his arm to slow him down, “S—Stop, I’m gonna p—pee…”

A deep chuckle rumbles through his chest, vibrating against her flesh, “You ain’t finna’ pee, Mama,” he murmurs against her, tongue still flicking rapidly over her clit. He adds more pressure, watching her deep inhales, her exhale dragging out into a small sob, tears brimming her eyes as she finds his hair again.

Her ankles are in the air, the slurp of her pussy, his voice, it’s all too much for her. The tears in her eyes are in between harsh waves of pleasure and embarrassment, unable to stop the pressure of release as she unknowingly squirts in his mouth, her moans broken, whining, squealing as she gushes out. She trembles, “O—Oh my god…” the gasps pulling from her mouth are almost dangerous.

“Why you’ squirting like that,” he groans, never pulling away as he delves his mouth deeper, drinking in her essence as her orgasm hits, taste intensifying with each spasm of her pussy.

She whines, “Ony—stoppp,” crying like a baby, a mess at this point. She hiccups in between, trying to latch her legs closed, whimpering at the painful spank she gets in return, his growl almost evil. He just can’t stop.

“Got a nigga thirsty as fuck.” 

His tongue is interminable, lapping across her sensitive flesh, coaxing forth new surges of ecstasy. He enjoys the way her whole body vibrates beneath him. His face is drenched, beard shampooed as she’s coating him like a splash of water from the sink—she can’t stop cumming.

He’s in between her legs, pleasuring her in a way she’d never been catered to before. Her legs are shaking, her voice is hoarse as she cries for him, the most vulnerable she’d ever been. She practically begs him to stop, teary eyed and body vibrating from the countless releases as he pulls himself up to her, forehead pressing against her own, her heavy breathing gusting along his face like wind. Her tear stained cheeks are warm, eyes closed as she can’t bring herself to look at him.

He kisses her cheeks, gently brushing away the tears. He’s hovering over her, one hand planted by the side of her head, resting his weight on it as the other strokes the side of her face. 

“Open your eyes,” he instructs softly, “Lemme see you.”

After a moment, her wet lashes flutter open. She returns her hand to the back of his neck, noticing the look of amusement on his face. She closes her eyes again, hiding her face somehow as she whimpers, “Don’t laugh.”

There’s a look of almost tenderness on his face as he softly chuckles, taking her wrist to pull it away from her face. 

“I ain’t laughin’,” his voice is low, “I just like seein’ you like this…you look cute this way.”

She rolls her eyes, releasing her own small laugh. Her forehead is still pressed against his as she searches his face, seeing the vulnerability he carries in this moment. 

Her voice is small as she calls, “…Ony?”

“Yeah, Mama?” He’s got his fingers playing with the strands of her hair, eyes staring straight into hers, “What you need?”

“You don’t have to say you like me back if you really don’t…” her voice is soft, “I just—don’t want anything to feel forced…”

It’s almost painful how hesitant she looks in this moment, and he can’t help but narrow his eyes as if insulted. 

“You still deaf as fuck in one ear, huh?” His mouth is back to hovering over her face, lips inches from hers,  “I want you.”

She hears his voice—she listens. Nodding her head, she pulls him back into a gentle kiss, lowering her hand as she tugs at the belt on his jeans. Her mouth pulls back as she feels his fingers intertwine in her palms, pressing her hand back onto the bed.

“Hold up,” he murmurs as he pulls back, “I don’t want it like this—a nigga was just hungry and wanted to make you feel good. Couldn’t help but eat that pretty ass pussy. C’mon,” he gently smacks her ass, “You’ got a game tomorrow.”

She flinches a bit at his words, “Your mouth is bad,” ignoring the flush that returns in her face. She frowns a bit at his rejection, but she can also appreciate the wait. 

She hides the frown as she asks, “…Are you staying here?” 

“You need to ask if I’m stayin’ here? Where else am I gon’ go? A nigga ain’t finna’ leave after what we just did.”

Her vulnerability is still there. She glances around his face before she shakes her head, “Sorry.” 

She pulls him into another soft kiss, “You wanna come shower with me?”

“You gotta stop apologizin’ to me, Sweetpea. Shit is irritating.”

She scrunches her face up, “Okay, nigga. I’m just making sure. Actually, you ain’t gotta shower with me!” 

She stands from the bed with her arms crossed, unable to hide her giggle as he yanks her back towards him. 

“Stop playing,” he gruffly mutters, arms wrapping around her smaller frame, nudging a kiss on her throat, “C’mon. I’ll braid yo’ hair up for the game tomorrow.”

She had to surpass the embarrassment of bathing with him, already beneath the shower head as he removed his clothes. Her eyes trail down to his sculpted frame, the ink on his pelvic, glancing at the monster that slaps along his belly button, hanging between his legs. 

But even in this steamy environment—It’s sweet, a different Onyankopon that she’d never seen. He stands behind her as he sensually washes her body, trailing kisses against her skin, washing her hair in a way that feels loving. From sitting on the floor with him as he braids her hair back for her game the next day, to her face against his chest as he snored above her. She was in love with this man. 

When the next morning comes, her eyes open to find that she was by herself in the bed. She doesn’t know why she becomes a bit worried. But as her eyes find his chain against her dresser, a sticky note beside it reads—

‘COACH CALLED FOR A MEETING. LEFT MY CHAIN SO I HAD A REASON TO COME BACK.’ 

A small smile comes to her lips at that. Her attention is pulled as she hears her door open, her cousin Peanut leaning into the frame with a raised eyebrow. 

Sweetpea scratches her head as she gives an awkward smile, “Uh…hey.” 

“Hey. He’s gone I see,” Peanut crosses her arms over her chest, “You two finally did it, huh?”

“No, no. We didn’t. Um—“

She hesitates a bit, “We just…slept off the alcohol,” she shrugs.

“Right. So, is that why he left his chain on your dresser?”

She glances at the dresser before looking back to her cousin, “Girl, shut up. You’ wanna go hoop for a little?”

Peanut snickers, moving out of the door frame, “You know I do. Come on, it’ll be a fun way to blow off your hangover.”

Onyankopon was grown, but why was she so worried when the entire day almost went by, and she hadn’t heard from him? 

Her and Peanut practiced for a while, got food, even stopped at another teammate's dorm. Nothing. She’d called him twice with no answer, and hadn’t seen him on campus. She walks back towards her dorm with Peanut, sighing as she glances back down to her phone. 

“This nigga better come get his chain before I throw it out,” she mutters in irritation. 

Peanut chuckles, walking beside her as she says, “Clinging onto him already? It’s cute. Y’all my couple goals or whatever!” 

Sweetpea rolls her eyes, “What if everything last night was just in the moment, Peanut? He was just fuckin’ with Ashleigh not too long ago.”

“Ain’t no nigga leaving his chain at your place if he doesn’t like you. Y’all have known each other for years, Pea. He likes you.”

“Yeah, he likes a lot of bitches. Including Ms. Big Booty Hoe,” she reminds.

Peanut shoves her cousin in the shoulder 

as they reach the dorm, pushing her key into the knob as she says, “You really gon’ let your doubt ruin a good thing? Pussy.” 

Sweetpea raises an eyebrow, “Pussy? Rude—”

When she opens the door to their dorm, they both halt. It’s a nightmare if Sweetpea had a word for it. Their eyes come into focus on Onyankopon on the couch, Ashleigh along his lap, his varsity jacket on her shoulders as her lipstick smears against his cheek. The both of them have a look on their face as if they didn’t expect to be caught— but there’s not enough time to process anyone’s expression. 

Onyankopon was already standing to explain himself, while Sweetpea is lunging forward, her body being caught by her cousin who wraps an arm around her chest to stop her. She practically sees red.

His jaw tenses as he sees her ready to swing, “You’ finna hit me?”

She jerks in her cousins hold, “I’ll hit you and your hoe,  nigga! I never gave a fuck— Are you serious?” 

“Who are you calling a hoe?” Ashleigh frowns, stepping forward herself, Onyankopon pulling her back.

“Bitch, you!” 

It took a lot to get Sweetpea out of character. She’s not even listening to what he has to say, ready to throw hands with the girl on the couch, and him.  

“Chill the fuck out, Pea,” he warns,  “It’s not even like that.”

“Not like that? It looks like you was finna’ fuck a bitch in my dorm!” She exclaims, “How the fuck else does it look? I should really smack the shit out of you!”

"I said it ain’t even like that, Pea!” he defends, “I called her to get my jacket. That’s all.”

“So why the bitch on your lap?” She frowns, “You think I’m stupid as fuck? Fuckin’ lipstick on your face and shit,” she mushes his face with her palm, unfazed by his glare, “You got the bitch in my dorm—my dorm!”

She hates that there’s angry tears in her eyes, being held even tighter by her cousin, not even focused on the fact that Ashleigh still stands within the room.

"I swear to fuckin’ god bro—It ain’t what it looks like, but you also not finna’ hit me, Pea,” he warns with a step forward, “You need to calm your ass down and let me explain!”

“Nigga—fuck you!” She mushes his face again, “And this bitch! Y’all fuckin’ deserve each other! I hope you know that she was fuckin’ yo’ friend Rashaud last night after that party while you letting the bitch on your lap!” 

Her words are sharp, angry, but overall hurt. She’d never planned to admit her feelings to Onyankopon in fear that they’d get thrown back in her face—here it was. 

A look comes along his face, as if he was genuinely surprised to hear this information. He has no time to even process that, before he hears Ashleigh go off, “That ain’t your business to be telling, bitch!”

When Sweetpea goes to swing at this girl, Peanut is the one to dismiss the chaos within the room, fully pulling her cousin back to stop this from becoming worse. 

“Y’all need to chill the fuck out before the RA hears this bullshit. Onyankopon, you should’ve never brought Ashleigh to our dorm, no matter what the fuck was going on. And you need to get the fuck out. I don’t have any issue with jumping you in this hoe,” Peanut threatens Ashleigh.

Ashleigh sneers, “Fuck all of y’all,” throwing the jacket on the sofa—but she doesn’t leave before giving Sweetpea the finger, moving quick as the girl continues to struggle under her cousins hold.

When Sweetpea brings her eyes back to Onyankopon, there’s less anger in her face. She pushes out of Peanut’s hold as she shuts her emotions down in that exact moment.

“I have a game later—I don’t have time for this shit.” 

To see her go from that vulnerability he always chased, showing him a completely different side of her—to this. It was like nothing had changed between them. 

“Pea—“

She slams her door, leaving the both of them outside. That was the end of it. At least for now. 

                                        𝓐ᥫ᭡

TWO MINUTES LEFT IN THE GAME. The court was where she belonged, but her mind was elsewhere. Her eyes tried their best to pull away from him as he was in the bleachers, watching her every move like he always did. That would never change. But she wasn’t in her element tonight. She’d been missing plays, dropping the ball, foul after foul. 

It got to the point where seconds were in the last quarter, and as she took the opportunity to throw the ball into the hoop, she watched as it completely missed, her eyes trailing over to the audience that watched with expressionless faces. 

The game ends, her teammates looking at her, Peanut’s expression filled with worry—it was all wrong. As the other team jumped around and cheered for their win, Sweetpea walked over to the bench as she sat herself down, dropping her face into her jersey as she cried. Frustrated with herself, frustrated with this entire day.

Onyankopon watches her shoulders shake beneath her jersey. He wants nothing more than to comfort her, but he knows that will only drive the knife deeper. So he sits there, watching in silence as her teammates pat her on the back, offering their support as their coach talks to them, scolding Sweetpea for her performance. 

He had to fix this.

A couple of days had gone by. Sweetpea had trapped herself within her dorm for the weekend, just wanting to get her mind together for the next week. She wanted her mind to be blank— but all she could think about was how having a childhood crush got her into this entire situation. She sits against her bed with one of her textbooks open, body swallowed under her oversized graphic tee and hair sprawled around her face, just freshly showered from bed rotting. 

Her eyes glance up to her door peeking open as Peanut appears, “You’ gonna be good before I head out?”

“I’m good, Peanut,” she brushes off, “Where you’ going?”

“Just to a party,” she replies from the doorway, “You sure you don’t want to come? Might cheer you up, you know? Get your mind off everything.” 

Peanut's brown eyes move from her cousin towards the floor as she sighs, “…I’m worried about you, Pea.“

“I’m good,” she repeats, “I just…wanna take some time to myself. I got exams to study for—go have fun for me, okay? Send me pictures,” she gives a weak smile, dropping the pen in between her fingers.

She can tell that Sweetpea was lying, but she wasn’t going to force her to go.

“Okay,” she says softly, taking a few steps back, “Call me if you need anything.”

She gives her a wave as she shuts the door. She wasn’t necessarily lying, she did want time to herself— But that didn’t mean the solitude wasn’t lonely. 

Her TV was extremely low within its volume setting as she studied. But as she continued to highlight important sections, her attention was caught by the sound of music coming from outside. It’s a familiar song, loud enough that it’s coming from someone’s car, disturbing her studying. If it was bothering her, it definitely bothered others within the complex. 

She takes a breath as she pushes herself off the bed, fuzzy socks along the ground as she pulls the blinds of the window to peek outside. And when she does—she’s in for something. 

Her eyes watch as Onyankopon is standing on the grass across from her window below, Can We Talk by Tevin Campbell playing loudly with all the windows down on his car, his arms out as he serenades her. Her mouth drops open.

He’s never felt like more of a dumbass than in this moment. Yelling out a love song in the middle of the afternoon just to get a girl to talk to him again. He didn’t care that people were recording him, beginning to open their windows in shock—all he had on his mind was the window to Sweetpea’s dorm.  He just hoped it didn’t take her long to open it.

She panics as she pulls her blinds up, opening the actual window as she leans out, “Onyankopon, what the hell are you doing?!”

“The hell it look like?!” he calls out to her, “You’ been avoiding me! You said you wanted a nigga to serenade you!”

“Onyankopon,” her mouth drops open a bit, “You cannot be serious right now!”

“I’m dead serious!” he snaps back, “You won’t talk to me, won’t answer my texts, and don’t answer when I call!” He points his finger up at the dorm, “Get your ass down here before I start doing choreography like New Edition!”

He’s back to singing, people yelling out from their windows, irritated with the interruption he causes. Her mouth drops even lower at this, and to avoid her RA blaming her for this entire mess, she slips on her house shoes as she darts downstairs, opening the double doors of her dorm to see him now standing across from her.

“Can you stop?!” She throws her arm out, wanting him to cut the music playing out of his car, “If I get reported I’m turning your ass loose on this grass!”

“Now see? That’s all you had to do.” 

His arms lower as he moves around the front of the car, cutting the music off, “You was’ up there studying?”

She crosses her arms over her chest, “Make your point quick as fuck, Onyankopon. Otherwise I’m going back upstairs.”

“Aight, look—You’ been blowing me off because of a dumb ass fight—That ain’t right, Sweetpea. You can’t just ignore a nigga you care about.” 

“Good thing I don’t care, hm?” She raises an eyebrow, attempting to close the door, eyes narrowing as he locks his fingers against the handle.

"Bullshit. I know you better than that, Pea. You’ the type of girl to care.”

“And you the type of nigga to sweeten your way through anything,” she fires back, “Look, man. I gotta finish studying. Are you done?”

“Why you gotta shut me out, Pea? Why ‘you mad at me for caring about you? I know it was my fault, but you didn’t even let me talk to you about it.” 

He’s still gripping onto the door, not letting her close it on him. 

“Why you’ gotta make things difficult for me? Can’t I love your ass without you avoiding me on some bullshit?”

The word love echoes through her mind. She blinks as she’s thrown off a bit, searching his face through the black sweatshirt and Nike sweatpants he wears, his muscular frame silhouettes beneath it. 

Her eyes pull up as she hears a random person from their window, “Talk to that nigga so y’all can stop disturbing the entire complex, niggas is sleep and studying!” 

She brings her eyes back to him, contemplating for a moment. She sighs as she rolls her eyes, opening the door into the hallway of the dorms as she says, “Just hurry up and come in.”

He’s a bit relieved that she finally lets him in, shutting the door gently behind himself as soon as he steps into the girls’ dormitory. It’s weird to feel so awkward with her—he’s never felt so off with someone since he was in grade school.

She closes the door to her bedroom, turning towards him as she states, “You’ got five minutes, Onyankopon. Say what you need to say.”

She looks cute as hell in her fuzzy socks and oversized shirt, her hair sprawled around, falling past her shoulders. He has to make a conscious effort of looking into her eyes instead of staring at the way her shirt hides her curves.

He frowns, “Five minutes? That ain’t enough.”

“And now you have four.”

He takes a seat on the edge of her bed, looking around at the mess of textbooks and papers spread out along with her comforter. He’s quiet for a few seconds as he runs his hands over his face, finally looking up at her with a look of sincerity. 

“I’m sorry.”

“For?” 

“For hurting you.”

He can’t stand that she’s not looking at him as she moves things from the bed, so he stands back up, taking a few steps until he’s standing behind her.

“You ain’t even finna’ look at me?”

She sighs, halting herself as she gives him her undivided attention, “Yeah, okay. You hurt me, Onyankopon. The sky is also still blue. You’ saying shit I’m already aware of.”

“You’ still don’t have anything to say after ignoring me all week? I’d rather you be ready to swing.”

“Swing on you? I only wanted to do that because I was mad. I’m not a bitch who’s gonna keep playing around with you. I’ve known you for years, and you gave me the courage to feel like I could finally admit how I felt about you—How I’ve always felt. But you were too busy worrying about the next bitch, so it was easier to just be cool on you. You then say you feel the same, eat my pussy, and then I catch you with a bitch on your lap the very next day. Tell me, what would you have thought?” She questions, raising an eyebrow.

He can’t deny that she’s right about everything she said, but he never meant to hurt her this much. There was no excuse for what he did, and he’d rather have her scream than give him nothing. 

“You’ right,” he says after a few seconds of silence, “You’ completely right. But it wasn’t like that. I was on the way back to come see you—I asked Ashleigh to come bring my jacket back, and I was gonna end shit with her. She tried to make a move, and y’all walked in as I was tryna put her out.”

She searches his face, seeing that he looked to be telling the truth. He doesn’t add too many excuses or go into detail the way he would if he was lying. 

She then says, “Even if you were just tryna’ end shit with her, you know the bitch doesn't like me like that. You could’ve met her somewhere else on campus. Meet her at your dorm. It wasn’t cool to bring her here. And you’re grown as fuck, it should’ve never got far enough for her to be in your lap.”

“Yeah,” he replies, “Yeah, I know. I wasn’t thinking straight, and I wasn’t thinking about how it would look to you when you saw it. I can’t take it back, but I can apologize for it. For real—Alana, I love you.”

Hearing her government name fully throws her off. She’s visibly taken back as her arms fall from being crossed, pointing out, “You said you loved me earlier before you walked in. I figured you just meant that you liked me a lot.”

“Nah,” he says firmly, stepping even closer until he’s towering over her again, “I do love you. Hell—I think I have since the moment I met you. I was too busy being dumb and running through bitches because I couldn’t accept that I found someone that actually meant something to me. And I kept telling myself it was just a childhood crush that didn’t mean anything. But it ain’t.”

Sweetpea was unfortunately a softy. Her heart did in fact swell at his words, and something in her became extremely happy to confirm it had always been this way between them. She blinks for a couple of seconds, taking a step forward as she places a hand on his jaw, facial hair smooth beneath her fingers. 

“I’m…I’m sorry for overreacting. I just didn’t want to be hurt again. I’ve—loved you for a long time, and I don’t play about my feelings. I wanted them to mean something if I ever admitted them, and at that moment…they didn’t.”

His body visibly relaxes when he sees her softening—especially when he can feel the warmth of her palm against his face.

“Your feelings do mean something. Never think that they didn’t. I promise I’m never gonna hurt you again. I’m done running from you. I’m done being dumb as fuck. I’m yours.” 

The swell of her heart thumps against her chest at his words. It makes her gently tug at his jaw to pull him down, close enough for their lips to touch as she suppresses her smile, “Say it again.”

He can’t help the smirk that appears on his face when he hears her, pulling in even closer to where their noses brush against each other’s. 

“I’m yours, Sweetpea,” he repeats in a deep tone, “A nigga is in love with your mean ass.”

A soft giggle releases from her lips, her face warm at his words. She sighs a bit as his mouth is close, feeling her breath shuddering the same way it did the night before. 

She sighs, “I love you too, Onyankopon.”

His smirk grows even bigger when he hears her finally say the exact words he’d been dying to hear, the feeling of her hot breath against his mouth driving him crazy. He leans himself even closer as she grunts, “I’m missing your mouth bad as fuck.”

This felt like the right moment. 

“So kiss me,” her voice is small, but something equally stirs within her. She wants him just as bad. 

When he leans himself closer, he lets their lips just barely touch, pulling a breathy whimper from her mouth. She couldn’t hide the need she had for him anymore.

He’s tempted to go even slower and draw the moment out, but that sound against his mouth raises a grunt out of him, roughly locking their lips together. She has to bring her arms over his shoulders to balance herself, taking in a sharp breath as his tongue laps within her mouth, effortlessly lifting her feet off of the ground to travel towards the bed.

 When she makes contact with the comforter, her body kneels below him as he stands. She pulls her lips back as her low eyes travel, grazing her fingers down his torso, meeting with the strings of his sweatpants as she pulls at them.

 “…Can I?”

“Go ‘head,” his eyes are equally low, knocking down to watch her.

She can see his bulge from beneath the material as she pulls it down, being met with his dark pink tip, heavy as it slaps along his stomach. Her small fingers wrap around the base of him as her eyes flutter up, adjusting herself as she places her tongue along the tip, giving it a kiss. His spine tingles at that. She’s already wrapping her full lips around him, beginning to gently nudge her head back and forth, steadying her pace to become more comfortable. 

He groans, the sound rumbling deep in his chest as she takes him into her mouth, eyes rolling back slightly at the sensation of her warm, wet tongue gliding along his length. One of his hands comes up to thread through her hair, gripping it lightly as he guides her movements, “Suck that shit however you want to, baby. Just tryna’ help you.”

She feels nervous about her performance. Continuously adjusting her body in a way that makes her hips sway, her back arching as her curls fall around her face and forehead, Sweetpea opens her mouth wider as she drags her head back and forth, allowing his tip to rock against the back of her mouth. Saliva begins to collect at the sides of her reddening lips as she whines softly against him, twisting her head to take him even deeper.

His grip on her hair tightens, guiding her head further down as he thrusts upwards, hitting the back of her throat with a low growl, "Fuck...that's it, Mama." 

He watches her struggle a bit to breathe around him considering his hefty girth, the sight making his dick twitch. She becomes more comfortable by the second, folding her lips more inward as she tightens her mouth, beginning to suck him more towards her throat, creating a wet sound within the room. The walls of her cheeks clamp down against him, coaxing him in each time he pulls halfway out.

"Shit, baby. You’ tryna have me nut in that pretty ass mouth," he says, voice thick with lust. He starts fucking her face harder, holding her head still as he goes in and out, watching her throat constrict around him with each thrust. The wet sounds fill the room, accompanied by her muffled whimpers. 

He reaches forward as he smacks her ass, “Look at you, takin' every inch like a fuckin’ pro. All that fuckin’ mouth, let’s see if you taking dick like that.”

He pulls himself out until his tip hovers along her lips, saliva connected in between the two, her tongue flat against the top as her breath huffs out a sultry giggle. She drags her tongue on the outside of his dick, reaching down as she laps his balls from beneath, eyes still fluttering to stare up at him. She ached for him. 

Something in him becomes irritated at the sight— she looks ethereal, a haunting siren within his mind that dragged him in. He grunts, “You’ nasty as fuck.”

Sweetpea lightly gasps as he turns her the opposite way, pressing her stomach against the sheets while pulling her hands behind her back. Her body jolts as she feels him spank her again, hips arching up as his mouth lowers back down to meet with the entirety of her, sucking her clit in between his lips. She clutches his hand within the fingers he holds, face along the sheets of the bed as she moans softly, beginning to rub her pussy along his face.

He goes in between lapping at her folds while sucking on her clit, flicking it with his tongue as his beard scrapes her sensitive skin. He groans, feeling her juices coating his chin already.

“Needy ass fuckin’ girl,” he spanks her again, “Ride my face slow as fuck. I need a mess in my beard,” He commands, taking his palms against the cheeks of her ass, pacing a torturous rhythm to circle her hips in the air, his mouth catching her pussy back on his tongue.

 That slurping sound returns, her teeth digging into her lip, hair falling over her face as she softly moans and whines against him, arching her hips nonetheless.

His hands slide up her thighs, gripping her waist firmly as he tugs her down onto his face, tongue delving deeper inside as his nose buries into her ass. 

“Need you soakin’ before I go in,” His words are muffled against her flesh, the vibrations sending shivers through her body as he continues to eat her out recklessly. But she’s wet, so wet that she couldn’t have been more ready. He could tell she’s holding back, moans soft, tiny. He needed a symphony.

His tip is nudging in between her folds, feeling heavy even on the outside of her pussy. It makes her adjust her body as he holds her down with one palm, keeping her body arched to perfection. She then knocks her head to the side, eyes locked into his as she watches him—it was like all time had slowed. 

Her wet folds spread apart as her walls began molding around his tip, gripping the flesh and pulling him in inch by inch. Her walls feel swollen, aching as he goes in, fluttering before gripping back around the weight of his girth. She was entirely full, so full that she looked back at him with a pout, whimpering as her back arched through the discomfort, dragging herself forward to pull away. He somehow manages to catch a lock of her hair as he grunts, “Don’t do all that, you better take this fuckin’ dick like you was before,” which makes her deeply gasp, trembling out a whine as his balls slap along her clit, ass clapping along his hips as he’s fully inside. He pulls halfway out before he sinks back in again, a waft of air pushing out her pussy, making a loud squelching sound as her eyes roll to the back of her head, “Oh fuck, Ony…”

“Keep that fuckin’ arch,” he grunts, her inner walls squeezing him like a vice, “I’m stretching your shit, huh? I know, Mama," He taunts, pulling her back again, another gust of air spouting out, her pussy sobbing at this point. 

It’s dripping all against his balls, she’s wetter than she’s ever been. He begins dropping her down onto his dick slowly, but his thrusts are hard, each stroke hitting her g-spot dead-on as he pounds her mercilessly.

Her mouth is parted open yet nothing comes out for a while, just feeling the pained-pleasure that vibrates her entire body. It feels good, so fucking good that she’s practically paralyzed—and they’d only just started. 

She finally has enough oxygen within her chest to be vocal, her hair falling in front of her face with each stroke, pouting even more as she breathily pants, “All in my pussy, baby…” she doesn’t know where that sentence comes from, but it’s needy, as if she meant every word—She did. 

He keeps up that exact pace as her walls tighten second by second, slowly pounding as her needy plea hangs heavy in the air. 

“Yeah?" He coos, slapping her ass to gain her attention—even if he already had it, “You’ feeling that shit, huh?”

She tries to stop her eyes from rolling back each time her skin sticks to his, the sound in the room like a gunshot going off every few seconds. She sinks her teeth back into her lip as she nods her head, the agreement dragging itself in a prolonged harmony, turning into a chaotic moan of, “I feel you, Ony…I feel it…”

Onyankopon grins sexily like the bastard he is at her submission, seeing the raw vulnerability in her expression. He’s pulling almost all the way out before slamming back in, his balls smacking her clit with each brutal thrust. 

He can feel her walls becoming extremely tight, her whines growing louder—he’s starting to learn her body. He releases her hands which allows her to drop them onto the sheets, reaching around to clutch his fingers in between her throat and jaw. He’s picking up the rhythm of his hips, the comparison of gunshots sounding off as if he’d added more magazines, faster, harder.

“Open my pussy up,” he grunts, “You ain’t finna’ cum and be done. Better wait for me.”

But she can’t wait. Between the sound of his voice, the way her ass just drops, drops, drops to meet his dick, her tongue nearly lolls out, drooling as she can feel herself being fucked stupid. Her mind has never been so blank, which makes the words that come out so air-head like, she’s babbling.

“I’m cumming,” she whimpers with a gasp, still being dropped down all the while, turning her head back to face him, tears falling from her eyes in such a rush of pleasure. She has a death grip against the sheets, clawing with her nails as she whines, “I love you, Onyyy… I’m cumming…”

Her walls are fluttering like crazy—Onyankopon’s eyes drop down to see a beautiful coat of white being painted more and more on his dick each time he pulls back out, the arousal splatting against her skin with each stroke. 

“You love me, Mama?” He tightens his fingers on her throat, her orgasm spinning her in circles as she trembles, “Mhmmmm.”

“That’s why you creamin’ on my shit like that? Cause you love me?”

She softly cries, “Cause I love you,” her entire body shuddering, eyes white as they’re in the back of her head.

He tightens his hold on her throat further, cutting off some of her airflow. The pressure causes her climax to prolong, her pussy spasming wildly around his dick.

"Love me so much you drenchin' my dick?" He growls, watching the thick stream of her juices coating his shaft, "You gon’ milk my nut dry?”

“Yeah,” she sniffles, “Yes, baby…”

“Come bounce on this dick. That’s how you’ finna cum again.”

She could’ve collapsed at this moment, her body exhausted—he’s pulling her onto his lap, placing her feet flat against the bed, arching her hips up as he’s already sinking her back down. He intertwines their fingers together to hold her up, rocking his hips up for her to catch the rhythm he wants. She’s a whimpering mess as she complies, swirling her hips down, grinding herself in a sloppy choreography.

He takes advantage of her vulnerable state, gripping her hips tightly as he begins pounding up into her. Each thrust sends her breasts bouncing and her ass jiggling.

"You' cummin' again," He growls, his own release beginning to build, “Keep riding my shit like that.”

He's not wrong, her pussy is clamping down on him like a trap, and her entire body is in complete shambles.

She places her hands along his chest, running her fingers across his tattoos as she leans herself forward, rocking her hips down, bouncing just like he wanted—of course, her curls fall on her face, the annoying habit of having to blow them out the way pulls a low chuckle from Onyankopon.

 She whimpers to him, “Don’t laugh, Ony…”

His chuckle subsides as quickly as it came, his expression turning serious once more. He grips her hips tighter, his strokes becoming harder and faster. She’s louder, attempting to keep up with him. 

"Don't worry 'bout nothin', Mama. Just ride my dick," He commands, his breathing heavy and labored. Seeing her above him, hair cascaded along her freckled face, her soft sounds—she’s so pretty to him.

Onyankopon’s arms wrap along her lower back as he sits up beneath her, guiding her hips down to connect with his.  She pulls him into a kiss, holding his face to consume his affection, her face splashed with previous pleasured tears,  whispering to him in a tiny gasp, “I—I love you s—somuch, O—Ony…”

His entire body was sensitive to every one of her touches. Feeling like a teenager all over again while they make out, he grunts her name against their mouths, “Alana…” 

He feels how easily she moves her hips, rolling them in sync with his movements to send waves of pleasure through them, groaning between their hot kisses, “I love you…fuck…I do…”

She wraps her arms around his neck as she presses her face into his shoulder, nails digging against his skin as she gasps, “I’m—mmph, I—“ she’s gasping, unable to finish as pleasure raptures her entire body again, all the way down to her feet, muscles aching from the constriction.

She’s tight—he can feel every inch of her warmth as he groans in response to the arch of her back, “Goddamn…” 

His hands travel down her body until they’re both on her hips, guiding them as he bucks up into her, slowly moving her in the same motion, “…Take your time, baby. I’m finna’ bust…You’ cumming?”

She hiccups, nodding her head feverishly as she holds onto him, dragging her fingers up to his head as she grips there, moaning in a high pitched way as she warns, “I’m c—cumming,” closing her eyes as she brings her hips down faster, “O—oh my god—agh…”

Her voice makes his eyes roll back into his head as he holds onto her hips, bucking his own up more to help her reach the peak, “Shit, I ain’ never wanted be nowhere but right here with you. I’m finna’ bust, baby, I—ohhh…f-fuck, Pea…I love you...so much,” his words are broken into short moans as he holds onto her, pulling her as close as they both release together, a symphony of affection turning into an orchestra, filled with emotions they’d had for one another all along.

She keeps her face within his shoulder as she breathes heavily, still holding onto him as her orgasm subsides. The moment her eyes do come up, she can see the last thing she wanted to envision—that damn smirk on his mouth. 

She presses her face into his chest as she grumbles, “Don’t, Onyankopon. I swear to god.”

He grunts as her head presses against him, but a smirk appears all the same, chuckling under his breath as he reaches up to scratch at her scalp. 

“Pussy is good as fuck,” he huffs, Sweetpea jumping as she feels his palm slam down on her ass.

She brings her eyes up, “You could’ve said something romantic—yet that’s what you say.”

“I’ll let you hear them’ three words a thousand more times before the nights over, crybaby.”

She pulls herself off of him as she lays against the bed, pressing herself against the pillow as she feels her eyes becoming heavy. Her hair brushes over her face, uncaring of her body being bare under the night light as she sighs, “Mmm, shut up. Lemme’ sleep.” 

She can hear him shuffling before his weight comes off of the bed, her body not moving as she mutters, “You’ leaving me? Was all that a lie and you really don’t wanna be with me?”

He’s standing over her, watching the way her body just seems to fit against the sheets effortlessly, her curves like an invitation to come back onto the bed with her. 

“Damn, a nigga can’t move without you thinking I’m tryna’ leave? I’m hungry.”

She smacks her lips, turning her face over to meet the wall as she grumbles, “Whatever, lyin’ ass. Get out.”

“I guess that means you don’t want tacos then.”

Her eyes peek open at that. She turns her head a bit as she says, “Them’ birria tacos from the corner?”

“And horchata.”

“Nevermind—You’ cool…or whatever.”

“You gon’ have that ass tooted up for me when I get back?”

“Onyankopon?”

“Huh?”

“Get the fuck out.”

His smirk reappears before he shuts the door behind himself, “Love you too, Mama.”

[lamaery]

Looking for a stormy or colorful summer beach read? @priscellie and Ihad way too much fun creating some romance novel versions of Rhythm of War and Warbreaker. I made the illustrations and Priscillie made them look like actual books – beautifully ridiculous, curly typography, mock-up and all. I hope that there will be more :D

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Image description: (by Priscillie) Photomanipulation of two battered paperback pulp romance novels that look straight out of a thrift store bargain bin in the 1980s. The books are RHYTHM OF WAR and WARBREAKER by Sandra Branderson. RHYTHM OF WAR features an illustration of Navani and Raboniel experimenting with light, Raboniel looming behind Navani and leaning in, their faces almost touching. Raboniel streams voidlight from her image-left hand, which travels like lightning through Navani's tuning fork and into the sphere in Navani's gloved safehand. It's the primary source of light in the scene, and the background is nothing but murky darkness. Raboniel focuses intently, her red eyes alien and unknowable, as she focuses on her work. One of Navani's unkempt locks of hair just brushes the corner of Raboniel's mouth, and I'm not normal about it. Navani looks like she's gone three days without changing clothes and that she's slept in her hairstyle a similar number of nights. The collar of her havah is open, revealing her collarbones. Her expression is a mix of amazement, fear, and exhaustion, her mouth slightly open and her head tilted back slightly. Her face is lit from below by their experiment. The title and author's name are angled at a sharp diagonal, with strong capital letters and the occasional flourish. At the top is the tagline "In the Heart of War... Passion and Honor are Fused!" In one corner is some publication information, with a little logo of a seal and the words "A 'Sealed With a Kiss' Paperback," the fake ISBN 17S-631-1123-1210 (the last two sets of numbers being our birthdays), and prices in America and Canada. The other book is Warbreaker, also by Sandra Branderson. The illustration depicts Susebron and Siri in a ridiculously overblown, windswept Fabio-style cover, with a shirtless Susebron holding Siri so she's half sitting on his chest, one knee up with her thigh along his chest, her legs off to one side, and with her body twisted so she's facing him with her upper body, leaning down to him, a breath away from kissing him. She's wearing a teal dress with a Mesoamerican vibe that reveals her midriff and leaves her shoulders bare, but with a long train that blows off to the side. Her arms are painted in looping gold shapes. Her hair is blonde for most of its length, but it's beginning to change to a vivid red at the scalp. It's wrapped in teal ribbon to match her dress. Susebron has long, sleek black hair caught by the wind, chunky gold earrings and a slim gold cuff at his upper arm, and is wrapped in long white strips of awakened cloth that snake through the image in an energetic explosion of fabric. He gazes at her in handsome adoration and abandon, and she gazes back in love tempered by concern. The title has the same diagonal and italicized design with the same typeface and flourishes, but the title is jazzed up with shimmery, iridescent type. At the top is the tagling "She was forced to marry a god... Then she took his breath away!"

[youryanderedaddy]

tw: female reader, obsessive behavior, captivity, fantasy lore, abuse, murder mention, suggestive (?)

"You seem to be upset."

He's leaning against the window not too far away from you. Not too close as well - just far enough for you to feel at ease.

"Aren't you a mind - reader." You respond under your breath, trying to focus on the book you're currently reading - but the letters are escaping you, and you find yourself re-reading the same paragraph for the third time. He sighs, much like a disappointed father, before stepping towards you. And if you flinch just slightly, he doesn't pretend to notice or care.

"What is wrong, my flower?" The man gestures theatrically, soft velvet voice unbecoming of the monster he is flowing easily into the open air. You don't know what to say, really. It's been two years - or so you think, there is no way to keep track of time in this kingdom, not that time goes the same way in the elfen world as it does in the human, yet the part of you still capable of logical thought seems to think so. Two years, and there is very little you haven't already said. Very little left to be said, so your conversations are mostly rehearsed repetitions of what you already know. What you already fear - that you're going to die here. Or even worse. That you've become incapable of aging, so very consumed by this foreign land you detest that you've given up death for a life of boring, purposeless immortality.

"Don't I shower you with lavish gifts?" The noble moves closer, stalking towards you - observing you as if you're a butterfly pinned to a wooden frame under a microscope. "Don't I buy you the shiniest jewels? Not even the queen herself owns such sparkling emeralds." He scoffs, painfully used to your lack of response. You clear your throat, turning a new page - having little to recall about the last. It's completely meaningless just like all the other pages in all the other books you read. How funny, you think. In that distant, dreamy past of yours you were too busy to read - busy with work, busy with family, busy with friends. Busy with life. Now nothing gets in the way of your reading, you have all the time in the world - but there's no one to share the knowledge with. No one to spoil the ending. No time limits. No goal to it all, no final destination. So you read, and you soak the pages with salty tears not remembering a word.

"I am grateful for all the treasures you give me, my Lord." You answer nonchalantly, keeping your pointer at the end of the paper in a desperate attempt to find the sentence exactly where you left it off. You can feel him move closer to you - and the only indication of your growing fear are the shivers that travel down your spine with the beat of your violently full, thumping heart.

"Don't I provide you with all the entertainment your little human heart could possibly bear?" The duke clicks his long sharp nails together once against the other - an ugly metallic sound echoes deep into the ceiling reminiscent of a dying forest clow. "There has never been a lack of wine or music or dance in my court. I've gifted you more golden dresses than you can wear in this life. I've written you more poems than you can read." He keeps going, describing every little thing he's done for you, despite the fact that you've never asked for any of it.

"I admire your taste for indulgence, my Lord." You repeat almost automatically, the praises sitting on your tongue just waiting to be spilt from parted honey lips. Your eyes are glued to the book, but you've given up on reading long ago. Now you're simply trying not to cry - focusing your eyes at one word at a time and blinking repeatedly, manically, feeling as if the world with end the moment you let him see your weakness. You can't believe you still have so much pain in you - enough to feel loss and anger and, what's even worse, hope. Hope that one day you'll be free again.

"And tell me, flower—" His fist wraps around your low ponytail, forcing you to look up at him and meet his eyes for the first time tonight. What's staring back at you might as well be the bottom of the ocean itself, misty and dark, cold and unknown. Human eyes convey so much affection - so much care that you can never mistake it for anything else. With elves it's different - you can spend centuries looking for a hint of kindness, and you'll only get lost in those beatiful bottomless pits. Shiny and sparkling and completely empty. "Don't I give you love? Don't I embrace you tightly every night?" His voice lowers dangerously, barely above a whisper.

"I don't understand what more you could possibly want. Should I prove myself to you? Should I slay a dragon for you? Perhaps I could tie the heads of your enemies with a pretty bow and give them to you as a wedding gift, hmm?" He's babbling incoherently, nails digging into your scalp with unyealding grip. "Would that finally, finally make you happy, beloved?"

"No, no, please let go." You cry out in agony, wriggling out of his hold - but he's too strong, too massive to move. "I'm happy, I'm—" You sob pitifully, weakly pushing at his chest. "I'm happy with you. Please, you make me so happy, just please let go. And please don't hurt anyone."

He slowly pulls away, chest heaving in and out wildly. The scariest part is always his face. It remains unbothered - cold and defined like a statue of a god, his true feelings hidden by a mask of barely contained rage.

"You're happy with me?" He raises an eyebrow, foot stomping on the ground impatiently. You nod hesitantly, too shaken up to comprehend what you're even agreeing to. "Then prove it. Show me just how happy I make you." He grabs your wrist, pulling you face-first into his hard chest. "Do it, and I might reconsider my other more... inhumane methods of courtship." His lips twist into a cruel smirk. "And may the Gods help you."

As you sink to your knees you try to think of what book to read next - but no title comes to mind.

[naomis-daydream]

her favorite place // paige bueckers

summary: paige goes live as she gets her hair done from her favourite person sat in her favourite place.

warnings: none!

a/n: not my best work but I wanna start writing for her and this is the first time in months i’ve flowed while writing so!

✧

the image looked suggestive, or at the very least, questionable to viewers.

as hundreds joined the huskie’s live, they couldn’t help but notice the comfortable position their favorite player had between a pair of parted thighs.

uconnfan what did i click awn…

user3 facing the wrong way tbh

user8 who is that behind her??!

she smirks slightly as her eyes dart over the flood of comments.

“where am i?” she reads, “my favorite place,” she says, scrunching her nose as she smiles.

she knows what she’s doing, you think from behind her, rolling your eyes at her antics.

as if she could hear your thoughts, she stops taunting her growing audience.

“y’all chillll, i’m just getting my hair done. my favorite spot, aka the hair chair, getting my braids. come on now,” she assures, turning the camera at an angle to show you, eyebrows furrowed as you focused on a braid.

she nudges you with her shoulder, nodding at the camera. “hey live,” you say gently, poking your head out from behind paige with a soft smile. in the bottom corner that the blonde was still visible, her lips curled into a small grin as she watched you speak.

“today we’re switching it up a little bit from her normal two braids. we’re doing three on each side pulled into a slick back.”

paige nodded along as she put herself back into frame. “yup,” she popped her lips, “she’s getting me right.”

a low “mm-hm,” left your lips before you spoke again. “yeah, i gotta treat her right after them cruise braids. poor girl was traumatized.”

she whipped her head around at your comment, truinng to look up at you. “hey, i thought we left that in the past, i got set up.”

you giggle as you take one hand to push her jaw forward. “stop moving. then your hair really is gonna be messed up.”

you hear the smack of her teeth as she refocuses on the live, shaking her head slightly.

as you continued, she spoke with viewers about the upcoming season, plans for summer holiday, and traveling, occasionally reading comments aloud to you.

“‘can y/n do my hair next?’ uhhh no, she’s booked. got her for the whole summer actually. right?” she pans the camera to you.

“sorry guys, p comes first,” you say with a feigned frown.

she turns the phone back, shrugging her shoulder. “i could get kayla for you if you want though, for sure.”

you apply oil to the parts in the braided section then smooth you hand along the middle section. “okay, im done with the braids. can you get the brush and gel so i can do the bun?”

“but i’m on live,” she replies, looking at the screen.

you stop, looking at the back of her head silently. really?

paige slowly turns around, meeting your incredulous expression.

“yes ma’am.”

“thank you,” you smile as she gets up, propping her phone up on the glass table in front of you both.

as she turns the corner to the bathroom you lean forward, reading some of the comments flooding in.

wbbluver period suh!! you tell her

huskie4l “yes ma’am” ohh it’s like that💀💀

ice.bradyy made blondie get up real quick

you laughed at a few, responding as you read. “yeah, because I don’t know who she thought she was talking to.”

said blonde walks back into the living area, gel and brush in hand “what’re you in here giggling about?”

“nothin’” you shake your head, leaning back to give her space back between your legs. “just chattin’ with the people.”

she sits down, folding her legs criss crossed as she passes you the products. “what are you guys saying about me in here, huh?” she asks as you push her head playfully.

“oh hush, we weren’t talking about you.”

she hums quietly as you begin brushing her hair back, smoothing over any fly aways or unarmed tangles before grabbing a scrunchie and tying her locks back. you pull her hair through twice before pulling it halfway through the third time and wrapping the excess hair around the bun.

you place your hands on her shoulders, sighing softly, “okay, you’re all done.”

her eyes light up as she sits up straight, “perfect! ayeee, lemme see.” she looks in the camera, licking her lips before they pull into a smile.

oh lord now she’s feeling herself.

“okayyy, my girl got me right! braids by y/n get at her,” she exclaims before correcting herself, “but like i said, i got first priority, you know this.”

you laugh at her softly, gathering the supplies to take em back to the bathroom before a hand stops you.

“wait you can’t leave without saying bye to the live,” she says, wrapping her free arm around your shoulder.

you smile, waving again, “bye liveee,” you blow a kiss, leading to paige blowing one of her own followed by a wink.

“talk to yall later, peace!”

✧

[yandere-romanticaa]

𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐭.

🎀 Traveling from nation to nation and learning the art of creating the most delicious chocolate has been a passion of yours for ages. However, upon stepping foot into the Nation of Flame, you never could have prepared yourself for the incoming wave of sweetness and obsession which was going to hit you like never before.

A/N: This story is loosely inspired by Joanne Harris' book of the same title, Chocolat. It's a book that I am very fond of and I was inspired to write this once I saw that we were able to make chocolate in Natlan, probably the best thing in the game. I am a massive chocolate enjoyer, so... Also, the fic has some minor nsfw implications, just a bit of a heads up! Apologies if Kinich is not in character, oopsie.

yandere! kinich x fem! reader.

Proud warriors, the scorching hot sun and eternal flames were the first things that came to mind whenever you would think about Natlan. As a humble Mondstadter, it never occurred to you just how rich this nation was, how welcoming the people were going to be and not to mention how this place could help you develop your love for chocolate.

Stirring the pot in front of you was no easy task as the decadent scent of delightful goodness enveloped the entire humble little hut which you occupied, the entire floor littered with pots and pans filled to the brim with your creations and some personal trinkets which you had brought for yourself along for the journey.

One of Natlan's great tribes, the Scions of the Canopy, had graciously taken you under their wing and allowed you the privilege of experiencing the culture firsthand. You let out a wistful sigh as the chocolate bubbled happily before you, the dark liquid almost looking too good to be real.

You always took pride in your skills as a chocolatier, even if you hardly considered yourself the best one in the whole entire world. An endless sky of knowledge was out there waiting for you, the voices of the unknown beckoning you to come forward and seize them with your own two hands.

You were a true Mondstadter at heart. No matter where you were or how far you traversed, the wind was always there to guide you, to show you the right path. And right now, the flow of the wind said to stay in Natlan, to finally stop and smell the roses a little.

And each rose you touched had never been as sweet.

The rose, your rose, had a name and merely thinking of him sent your heart ablaze. Messy dark hair, gorgeous dew eyes and skin so perfectly rough and tender at the same time, it made you wonder how he managed to pull off something so contradictory.

That was Kinich's charm, you supposed. Cheeky little thing, he always looked out for you ever since he saw you. Despite his dry humor and straightforward attitude, there was a certain gentle quality to him which made him so irresistible, as if he was temptation personified. Never once did he leave you alone for the entirety of your trip if it could be helped, which came as a shock to his fellow tribe members.

Looking back on it, you were foolish to not see his intentions, even more so for not paying attention to the longing glimmer in his eye and how he would trail after you like a shadow.

He was shy, at first. Unsure on how he should express his feelings, Kinich merely resorted to doing things for you, because he was simply that kind of man. Actions speak louder than words and there was no word in the dictionary which could describe the way in which his chest would tighten in pain whenever he would make eye contact with you, as if large and thorny vines had sprouted from the ground up and taken root in his soul.

You are sweeter than any chocolate you could possibly make, he whispered into your ear one evening.

A shudder came over you, your cheeks hot at the memory of that night... The moon was high and full, overtaking the pitch black sky as Kinich had pinned you to the ground, his gaze boring deeply in your own, those large eyes focused on you and only you...

Chewing your bottom lip, you stirred the pot harshly as the memory replayed in your head over and over - his grip, which was tighter than any rope imaginable, the feeling of melted chocolate which was caked over your lips and fingers, the sensation of Kinich's tongue as he licked away the sweet goodness off your body...

By the seven, this was too much.

With a huff, you turned off the fire which was lit beneath the pot, your hands shaking with excitement as you felt your entire body growing hotter and hotter, making it harder to concentrate.

Damn that Kinich. Damn him for making you feel so wonderful, so wanted, so perfect. The thought of having to leave this place, it... It bordered on anguish. Sometimes, when you were sure no one was around, you would find a dark little corner and weep quietly to yourself. It was hard to manage the massive hiccups and keep the snot away from staining your clothes at first but you managed. Like always, you would find a way to get everything back in order and all would be well once you got everything out of your system.

You had fallen for Natlan. You had fallen even more so than Kinich. Even so, the wind was picking up once more, demanding that you make your next move.

There was so little time left to enjoy everything you had built here. Therefore, your plan was to make the most of everything you possibly could.

And Kinich was more than ready to assist with that.

He hid high up in a tree as he observed you, his face schooled into that of one of his classical nonchalance and stoicism. The chance of him being spotted by anyone up here was slim but even so, he liked to play it safe.

No one needed to know the pain he was in. No one needed to be aware of his more... dubious thoughts and actions. Kinich always fancied himself as a man of action rather than flowery words. And so, he acted.

Quietly, stealthily... Perhaps even a little lethally at times.

Violence was hardly ever the answer but if anyone got in his way and refused to back down, it was his only solution then.

Kinich had a solid reputation in his tribe - he was trustworthy, he was strong. This granted him access to many things, many useful and convenient things. All he had to do was say the word and most people would keep their mouths shut if they saw him somewhere he should not be. And if his poorly veiled threats were not enough, he was more than ready to take up his weapon and fight.

It really was that easy for him.

Sneaking into your newly built home was its own beast though.

This is wrong, he would chant inside his mind over and over again. The intensity of his actions and his nonchalant persona were always at a clash with one another, constantly fighting a never ending war. He should trust you, he knows you are capable, he has no right to be doing any of this even yet... And yet, he does it anyway.

Because he knows that if he doesn't do something, he will never see you again. Kinich knows that he will lose you to the wind if he lets you slip through his fingers, he will never get to experience what it means to be touched, to be loved.

He wants to adore you in the same way people adore your delectable creations. The various statues made from chocolates, the little cacao bites, the endless sea of pralines which would be devoured so fast by the masses that he could not keep up...

Whenever he had the luxury, he liked to imagine you as one of those pralines. Perfect and oh so easy to devour, you were nothing short of excellent in his eyes. Kinich was no blind fool, he was well aware that you had your flaws as well but he cared very little about that.

He wanted the entire package. He wanted you, wrapped up in a little bow and delivered on his doorstep like the world's most precious package, a package which he could unwrap and enjoy time and time over.

Even in his hazy state of mind, he could still recall how you tasted. Licking his lips, Kinich made sure to double check that he had taken a few things from your hut which could prevent you from finishing your latest project. Yes, that was petty of him.

But he could not be bothered to care.

The wind was cruel. Whenever a gust of it would blow at him, Kinich would scowl as he knew that it meant that you would take it as a sign to leave. His hair would get tousled as he would wrap his arms around his body, the constant yapping of Ajaw did him no good either.

The clock was ticking. There was only so much he could do to keep you here. A plan needed to be formed, fast.

For now, he was going to enjoy you in every way he could. He was going to be greedy and devour you wholly whenever the opportunity arose. As Kinich balanced himself up on the massive tree branch, yet another fresh gust of wind made its way towards him. He saw the way you popped your shoulders, that all too familiar smile on your face.

You loved the wind and the wind loved you. You loved to make chocolate and were quite excellent at it too.

Despite all that, Kinich loved you more. He adored you more than the sun adored the world, he wanted you more than unlike anything else before. He cursed the Anemo Archon underneath his breath, his poor lip bloody and bruised from the amount of times he had bitten it in order to keep himself quiet.

Kinch was a man of countless deeds. And he would find a way to keep you by his side, no matter the cost. Be it Celestia or the Abyss, there was no force in this world which could destroy the endless and raging fire he felt for you.

[i-eat-mold]

just here to say that gertrude robinson is the single funniest character. she is THE character. she dies before the show even starts. shes an old lady that adopted an edgy teen and traveled the world. She is the avatar of one of the fourteen elditch horrors that feed on primordial fears, she had basically infite knowledge of everything and her plan to stop one of the rituals of a cult of another one of said list of eldrich horrors was to blow it up with a bunch of c4. we only find out about this because she stored all of the explosives in a random storage unit and the aforementioned edgy teen with mommy issues (who by the way, is dead, but when he died she sneaked into the morgue to put him inside a book) speaks through the book to the woman's succesor who, by the way, has no idea what the fuck is going on because neither she nor anyone else has bothered to explain shit to him, and tells him that she kept something important in the unit. we only find out about this after 100 episodes of the show. She feeds her subordinates to an all consuming monster/god, but its ok i guess. Later on (earlier on? at the same time? in a different timeline? after?) the literal end of the world and the end of the end of the world shes back and still has to deal with this stupid teenager who at least doesnt spend half his life focused on dyeing his hair and the other half about finding murder books (not as books about murder but as in, books who actively murder). She is a well experienced arsonist despite having no affiliation with the actual official arsonists club that is yet another cult to yet another one of the previously mentioned eldritch horrors. She is, however, metaphysically tied to the Chosen One, the Messiah of said cult, or some shit. She is absolutely terrible at her actual office job (on purpose). She dismembered a guy (who was her assistant) and probably commited several undocumented crimes against humanity. Once again, she has all seeing abilities and barely noticed her favorite assistant was torturing a coworker. She dares her murderous boss to kill her and gets surprised when he does so. When asked what to do about a literal Monster Pig, her advice is to encase it in cement. She was such a bitch. Her plan B was always to set things on fire. Her plan A was often to set things on fire. One of these instances was approved by her boss (the one who killed her). It is canon that the reason she started all this shit in her life was because the fire cult killer her cat. She sacrified another one of her assistants who became an avatar of the literal concept of Insanity but it was just a other thursday for her. She knows on a first name basis pretty much every person and monster affiliated with the eldritch horrors that she tries to keep at bay on the daily. She stopped a ritual for The Lonely by making the place a tourist destination. She has an ebay account. Instead of performing a ritual for the God that she was affiliated with, she wanted to destroy it and planned to 1. blind herself, and 2. set fire (yet again) to her workplace. It didnt work, because and her boss, who was also the one who was going to perform the ritual, finds her right before and kills her after she says he has no balls to do so. Also she is voiced by the mother of the main character's voice actor (who he named with his own, full, legal name) and the series' writer, which are the same person. Shes the worst, shes the best, i love her, we will never get anyone like her again, we need more characters like her.

[heartlilith]

Rising Signs in the Solar Return Chart

Aries Rising: With Aries rising in your solar return chart, an abundance of energy and drive is more apparent this year. You will have the stamina to take on any challenge or goal that you put your mind to. Impulsive decisions along with issues with anger and frustration could arise, but your confidence and enthusiasm should help you push through. If you have an Aries rising in your SRC, this year is perfect for asserting your identity, starting a fitness journey, and pursuing your goals. 

Taurus Rising: Taurus rising in your solar return chart shifts your focus to stability, comfort, and setting the groundwork for the long haul. You’ll seek security in relationships, finances, your career, and your home life. This is also a year that highlights indulgence; whether it be in art, food, or nature. I like to think of it as a year of *beautifying*, where you create a peaceful environment that aligns with who you are.

Gemini Rising: Gemini rising brings a year of curiosity, learning, and mental stimulation. Multitasking is the name of the game here, and although it’ll be chaotic at times, it’ll bring so much growth.  Juggling multiple interests, connections with new people, and soaking up knowledge like a sponge will make for a busy year ahead. Short trips and communication will also be emphasized this year, whether that’s through speaking, writing, teaching, or networking.

Cancer Rising: With Cancer rising in a solar return chart, the focus of the year will be on home, family, and connecting with your emotions. Shifts and transformations can occur in your home and personal life, encouraging you to prioritize self care and take care of people you love most. You may be more of a homebody this year or can have stronger emotions. Lean into yourself and allow yourself to feel how you feel without judgement. 

Leo Rising: Leo rising in your solar return chart makes for a year of confidence, creativity and being placed in the spotlight. Others won’t be able to ignore your sunny and charming presence, including romantic interests, coworkers, bosses, and friends. You’ll be hard to miss this year. Stepping into your confidence and focusing on yourself will be favored, and it will also attract admiration from people around you.

Virgo Rising: Virgo rising, this year will be about self-improvement and simplifying your routine. You’ll be more focused on your goals and it’ll be easier to adjust your day to day, especially in regard to  your health, your job, or just finding more efficient ways to live. You’ll be very productive this year like Gemini rising, but more organized and critical. 

Libra Rising: With a Libra rising in a solar return chart, relationships will be prioritized this year. Harmony in your relationships and friendships as well as finding balance between give and take will be highlighted. Art, beauty, and aesthetics will be important to you this year and a glow up could be on the horizon, since experimenting with your style will more than likely have a great outcome this year.

Scorpio Rising: With Scorpio rising, the year ahead will be filled with growth and transformation in every aspect of life, but especially in your emotional sector. You could enjoy your solitude this year, become more reflective, and value your privacy much more than in past years. This year is great for confronting your fears and running with your passions. 

Sagittarius Rising: Sagittarius rising brings optimism, adventure, and a hunger for new experiences. This is a year to explore and learn, whether through travel, education, or even reading a book! You’ll feel more confident in taking risks but remember to avoid overextending yourself or chasing too many opportunities at once, indulgence isn’t always necessary. 

Capricorn Rising: With Capricorn rising in your solar return chart, the focus shifts to maturity, responsibility, and hard work. At the end of the cycle, you will be more disciplined and mature - especially in regard to your goals and career. Success is within reach for sure, but only if you avoid crumbling under the pressure you put on yourself. Self care is equally as important as reaching your goals. 

Aquarius Rising: Aquarius rising brings a year of thinking outside the box and showing off your uniqueness. You’ll have a hard time with any limits, whether they’re self-imposed or not. Socially, you’ll be popular and recognized for what makes you different. Definitely a trendsetter placement, you may notice a lot of copycats this year. Volunteer work as well as helping others is favored now, but make sure you find balance,  Aquarius is more giving than what people assume. 

Pisces Rising: With Pisces rising, this year will be about tapping into and strengthening your intuition. Hobbies centered around creativity and healing could very well take center stage this year. You’ll be extremely attuned to the emotions and vibes from people around you, maybe even too much. Take time to reflect in solitude and allow yourself to channel your thoughts by journaling, painting, singing, or anything that you genuinely love to do. 

[bbydoll18xx]

She’s Such a Good Girl (Part 6)

Your newfound fascination with Paige's abs leads to some fun.

Paige Bueckers x reader

Masterlist

Word Count: 1.8k

Themes: ab riding, general horniness

A/N: well guys, it only took like idk 4 months and a lot of bullying but here she is! I hope this lives up to your expectations.

I wasn’t planning on doing this but it’s my birthday, and so, here is my gift to you LOL

Let the smut commence ;)

~

“Whatcha thinkin’ ‘bout, babe?” 

Your head whips towards the husky drawl that you had become very familiar with over the last few weeks. Paige’s voice had an effect over your entire body. Your belly would roll in want and your cheeks would heat up, spreading down over your chest and settling into a pool of unbridled want. 

Paige Bueckers had ripped away every single inhibition you had clasped to your entire life, and you were now standing with the shreds of your past life laying at your feet. 

She had come into your life, teasing you first with the edits on your phone and passing glances before slamming you into a delicious fantasy, rivaling those in the romance books you liked to read. 

She had taught you to open yourself up, to learn how to please yourself and her. She had taught you that it was okay to let yourself fall head over heels, and to stop intentionally keeping yourself from happiness to protect yourself from the unknown.

So, here you were, throwing yourself to the wolves, and not giving a single, flying fuck. 

You had never been happier. 

Paige had caught you in another fantasy. It was difficult to not get caught up in her. And even though you had the real deal dancing right in front of your face, the shame of admitting some of your more filthy fantasies was the reason you were keeping your mouth shut.

You clear your throat in an attempt to keep from stuttering, your voice wavering as you try to swallow the lust brewing in your body.

“N-nothing.” 

Fuck.

Paige looks at you suspiciously, grabbing her towel off the bench next to where you were currently daydreaming and wiping off a bead of sweat that was traveling down her toned stomach.

Paige had begged you to come watch her practice, and you had put up a fight, knowing she liked to practice in just a sports bra. Paige’s abs had been at the forefront of your mind for the past two weeks, taking over any rational thoughts.

You were a very focused person, and you always had been. Your grades were phenomenal, but your mind had been hijacked by images of pale, toned flesh. And you did not know how to stop it. 

Your eyes trail to Paige’s stomach, and your tongue peeks out involuntarily, sweeping over your bottom lip in a wanton fashion that did not go unnoticed by the blonde. 

“My eyes are up here,” she teases, sitting down on the bench and leaning into you, bumping her shoulder with yours. “You got that horny look in your eyes again,” she deadpans.

You splutter, desperately trying to find the words to defend yourself against her wildly astute observation. 

She laughs, the sound echoing loudly through the empty gym. 

“I like your abs,” you mumble, unable to keep eye contact from the embarrassment of your confession. 

“You do?” Paige questions, waggling her eyebrows suggestively. 

You look at her with a disbelieving look. “Well, uh, yeah…” you trail. You pick at your fingernails, feeling anxious from the conversation. “I can’t stop thinking about them.”

Paige pulls you into a searing kiss, distracting you from your racing thoughts. She licks into your open mouth, unspoken promises swapping between the two of you as you make out in the empty gym. 

“You could always ride them,” she suggests casually, a glint in her eyes giving away her practiced air of nonchalance. 

“Who’s the horny one now?”

~

You were definitely still the horny one, it seemed, as you laid in bed later that afternoon, panties soaked as you found yourself completely swept up in the idea of riding her. The thought had invaded the more rational side of your brain, and you were now being bombarded with filthy images of your sopping pussy dragging across Paige’s abdomen.

Last month you were a hopeless virgin. And now here you were, wanting to ride Uconn’s most beloved basketball star. 

You had made the decision before it even registered in your love drunk, horny-as-hell brain, and before you could stop yourself, you were marching across the hall to Paige’s apartment to demand that she take off her shirt and let you have your way with her.

Politely, of course. You weren’t an animal. 

You enter, not even bothering to knock, and you head towards Paige’s room. She was sitting at her desk, headphones on, and working on a paper for a class. 

She looks up with a smug smirk as you linger for a moment in the doorway, your reservations slamming back into you. You meet her gaze, your eyes wide and hopeful, mixing deliciously with the want pouring from your pupils. 

Paige swivels in her chair, muscular legs spread dominantly, inviting you to perch primly on her thigh. She pats them, beckoning you to come to her. Your legs pull you towards her, your thoughts clouded with need, and you sit in her lap, curling into her presence. 

She strokes your cheek, her thumb rubbing across your soft skin in a way that has you sighing in pleasure as you sink into her warm embrace.

“You wanna ride me, don’t you?” She whispers against your ear, her breath sending anticipatory tingles down your spine.

“Yes, please,” you whimper, your voice catching as she begins tracing patterns onto your inner thigh close to your dripping pussy. 

“So polite f’me, aren’t you, baby?” Her voice is thick with want and husky. You wanted to drown in her words. 

“Please,” you whine, the word hanging on your tongue in a pathetic lilt. You were too desperate to care, the overwhelming need brewing in your pussy overpowering the anxiety you felt earlier. 

“Get on the bed,” Paige instructs, and you do exactly as she says, scrambling off of her lap and going to sit on the edge of it. She stares at you for a moment, wordlessly contemplating her next move as she runs a hand across her jaw, admiring your blatant display of submission. 

“Such a good girl,” she states, and the praise sends your head spinning. She stands up and walks right up to you, your eyes peering up curiously in a futile attempt to gauge her next move. 

“Clothes off, baby,” she says, and you waste no time pushing your leggings down your thighs and tossing your t-shirt onto the floor, leaving you in a lace bralette and a thong that was obviously soaked from your own arousal.

Paige notices, and as you lay down, she traces the damp spot with her finger, sending a jolt through your body as your swollen clit feels her touch. 

“Who got you this wet?” She questions, wanting you to tell her just how much you needed this. 

“You. Only you,” you reply breathlessly, already squirming under the heat of her touch. 

“Damn right,” she brags, tugging your bra off and leaving you nearly naked. Your nipples get even harder in the cool air of Paige’s bedroom before her warm mouth attaches to your right tit, licking and biting. 

You moan at the contact, your hands finding her stomach as she sucks hickies to the underside of your breasts, your fingers stroking over the flexing muscles underneath you. 

She was wearing too much clothing, and you whine in protest, begging for her to take off her clothes so there’d be less of a stark power imbalance between you. 

Her mouth leaves your skin as she kneels to take off her shirt and sports bra. Your pupils dilate as you get full access to the creamy skin and rippling muscles that you had become so fond of. You pull her down to meet you in a lustful kiss, moans pouring out of both of your mouths and echoing off of the walls in a passionate display. 

The arousal was building up in a way that was almost painful for you. “Please, need you so bad,” you cry, already trying to get on top of her. 

“I gotchu, baby,” she teases, shedding herself of her sweatpants and her boxers and laying down on the bed, head against her large pile of fluffy pillows. 

Your soaked thong gets thrown on the floor with the rest of the discarded clothes, leaving you fully naked. The afternoon sunshine peeking through the sheer curtains highlights your own arousal leaking down and coating your inner thighs in a way that was downright provocative. 

You straddle Paige, who guides your hips with strong hands anchoring you. Your hair is thrown over your shoulder, ass up in the air as you try to find a good position. 

Paige settles you down onto her stomach, immediately flexing. You gasp as you feel the tight abdominal muscles under your pussy, the feeling foreign and naughty. 

You drag your hips up and down, looking down as you see the aftermath of your dripping arousal pooling onto Paige’s skin. 

You were already panting, the erotic act leaving you needy and desperate to cum on top of the blonde girl. 

“C’mon,” she smirks. “Move those hips, ma.” 

And because you’d do absolutely anything Paige requested of you, you got to work creating a steady rhythm, alternating between grinding down onto her taut stomach and dragging your slick pussy up and down the length of it. 

“Feels so good,” you gasp, already nearing the brink of pleasure. “So, so good.” You were babbling, your thoughts clouded from the overwhelming sensations, fucked out and chasing your impending orgasm. 

Paige slaps your ass, one hand still gripping the flesh of your waist, the jolt of pain rushing through you, turning into pleasurable sparks. 

You lean down to connect your lips in another heated, sloppy kiss as you near the edge. Your movements lose the fluidity, and Paige, noticing, grabs your hips with a strong grasp and helps you ride out the final few strokes before you cum with a loud cry of her name on your tongue. 

Your hips stutter as you become overstimulated, your swollen clit begging for a break from the friction. 

Your breaths are ragged as you come down from your high, moving your hair out of your face and meeting Paige’s, who was grinning widely. 

“That was the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen,” she declares, pressing a kiss to your palm.

You giggle, still in shock, and you go to move off of her, your eyes widening as you see the amount of slick you left behind. 

Without thinking, you dip your head and lick a line up her abdomen, tasting the salt of her skin and your own arousal, and Paige’s breath hitches as your tongue traces her abs. 

“Oh, you’re definitely the horny one in this relationship,” she rasps, unsure if you were still the same timid girl she had met last month. 

You reach up to place a sweet kiss on her lips. “I’m okay with that,” you whisper.

~

Please let me know what you think! And as always, my inbox is open for requests or whatever else.

xoxo katy

Taglist:

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