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lovscb97 · 3 months ago

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— stray kids links [hyung line]

tags: hyung line!stray kids x fem!reader, established relationship, rough sex, unprotected sex (plz wrap it before u tap it), creampie, breeding kink, daddy kink, mild dacryphilia, begging, use of collars/leashes, spanking, strength kink, oral sex (f. receiving), squirting, car sex, slight exhibitionism, slight choking, use of nicknames (baby, princess, angel, kitten, etc), degradation (slut, whore, etc), dirty talk, edging, overstimulation, etc

wc: 2.73k

add. notes: hai …. sorry i made this post instead of giving u guys nerd!chan pt. 2 I FUCKIN SWEAR IT��S COMING but it’s just taking the piss out of me n i needed this out for a new post. anyways plz dni if u r a minor like i mean that w my whole chest n also lmk if some of the links stop working or if u can’t see them idk what i can do abt that . but at least i will be aware LMFAOOOOO yea anyways enjoy :3

maknae line ver.

. . .

⥽ … BANG CHAN:

link one.

chan is packing. he is absolutely packing to the point you felt like he was going to tear your womb apart when you first got intimate with him, his thick cock stretching you out past your limits as fresh sobs fell from your mouth. since then, he's trained you to take him with enough prep, always making sure to milk at least two orgasms from you before he even thinks about letting his dick near your pussy regardless of how hard it might be throbbing. that wait becomes worthwhile though when he finally sinks inside of you, dirty words and throaty groans rambled in your ear as he releases himself deep inside once he's reached his peak. he loves the feeling of your warm walls sucking him in, never leaving you alone until he's dumped his load empty.

"fuck, baby. how are you so tight?" chan hisses incredulously, wet thumb still circling your clit as you shake in his hold. you're extremely sensitive at this point, twitching from the slightest touch after having cum for the third time, but the only thing in your mind right now is your boyfriend breeding you, the request made obvious with how you tighten your legs around his waist to pull him in. "cum in me, daddy. please!" you plead, teary eyes blinking up at chan whose orbs roll to the back of his head at your keen expression. it only takes a few more thrusts before he's shooting ropes of hot cum inside you, gripping himself to ensure he stays in place. you sigh in content at the warm liquid flooding you, and chan just smiles tiredly, leaning in to sweetly kiss you. "i love you, precious girl." he whispers, resting his body on top of you to keep you plugged up for the rest of the night.

link two.

you're chan's favourite destress toy, that much is obvious. every time he comes home from a long day at work, he knows it'll be worthwhile because you'll be there waiting with open arms and your wet hole longing to be filled up. he'll even take you right then and there in the living room sometimes, making sure everyone around you two knows exactly whose name you're screaming. certain days when he's had it particularly bad though, he'll collar you up and attach a leash to it that he can pull back on, bending you over with your ass up in the air as he slams himself into you repeatedly. it gives him immense pride to have that sense of control over you, to be able to manoeuvre you into whatever position he desires. if he's feeling especially mean, he'll edge you until you're crying into the sheets, cooing at how fucked out you look, knowing he's the only one who can make you feel that way.

"please.. i wan' cum, please." you slur out mindlessly, drool dripping down your mouth as chan slowly drags his cock in and out of you, its mushroom tip pressing deliciously against that spot inside. your boyfriend just chuckles from behind you, his hand yanking on the leash that's tied to your collar which makes you lean back in an instant. his hand sneaks down to grip himself as he pulls out for the nth time, and you whine at the loss of fullness in you, bottom lip jutting out as he slaps the head of his cock against your clit. "yeah, princess? you wanna cum? wanna cum all over daddy's dick?" he mocks you, laughing sadistically when you desperately nod your head. he continues to rub up your little nub, and you're soon about to fall over the edge, gratitude on your lips when he suddenly stops. "oh, baby, you're not cumming that easily tonight." chan growls, causing you to shiver under his hold as he pushes you back onto the bed. it looks like you're in for a long night.

⥽ … LEE MINHO:

link one.

you love pissing minho off. it's one of the little things in life that gives you so much pleasure, aside from when your boyfriend fucks you, of course. minho, on the other hand, doesn't take lightly to your teasing at all. on days where you're acting out by wearing revealing clothes in front of his friends or sitting too close to one of them for his liking, he'll drag you out with some lame excuse and a clenched jaw, mumbling something about how you're both going home now. he doesn't even care that you're probably smug by the end of it, because that feeling of triumph soon dissipates when he has you bent over his lap, veiny hands kneading the plush of your ass before he's landing a harsh smack on it. he'll spank you and make you count your punishment, and if you lose track, he'll just have to start all over again.

"fucking slut." minho tsk's, cold fingers running themselves against the bruised skin of your butt. he takes a moment to admire his work, tracing the red imprints of his hand on your ass and even the outline of your white panties, which are absolutely soaked by now. "min, please! 'm sorry, it won't happen again." you cry out, and he scoffs, rolling his eyes although you can't see it. another series of repeated spanks land on you, and you yelp in response, legs kicking up from the stinging impact. your body burns by now, every touch minho provides it leaving behind a searing sensation, but you know your boyfriend is far from done with you. "we both know that's a damn lie." he clicks his tongue. "you're always acting out, so it seems like i gotta really start putting you in your place, hm?" you're about to protest when he smacks again, drawing a sob from you; the sound goes straight to his core. he licks his lips, a smirk stretched across them as he readies his palm once more. "now, stop crying and start counting, whore."

link two.

it's no secret that minho is a certified ass man. he loves you, but god does he love your ass just as much. everything about it sends him reeling, from the way it's accentuated in the clothes you wear, to the plump flesh of it that jiggles every time he's got you on your hands and knees. you'd argue he puts you in this position at least once every time you two fuck because knowing your boyfriend, he just wants to watch the way you push back on him when he's bottomed out inside you. he'll give you a few smacks here and there on it too, kneading the skin in his palms before he's snapping his hips into yours. most of the time, he'll refuse to cum inside of you, instead pulling out just before he tips over the edge to release all over your behind and back. you're not complaining though, you love the feeling of his seed dripping over it just as much as he does.

"mm, shit, you look so good right now, kitten." minho groans from behind you, cockhead practically battering your cervix with the way he's shoving himself in and out of you. your whines are high in pitch with how he's fucking you, and you stutter to speak when you try and respond. "y-you say that every time." you eventually manage to heave out, and minho chuckles breathlessly, fingers gripping the flesh of your ass in them as he bites his lip, moaning lowly at the way it bounces back against his dick. "can't help it. you're too hot." he grunts, pistoning his hips at a frenzied pace that knocks the breath out of your lungs. it only takes a matter of minutes before you're both cumming, loud noises filling the room as minho pulls out just in time so he can splatter his release all over your backside. his thumb dips into the seed that now decorates your ass, and he swipes to collect it, pushing it into your mouth. a grin decorates his face as you suck on it. "atta girl."

⥽ … SEO CHANGBIN:

link one.

changbin is a gym fanatic through and through, and with his rigorous work out routine eventually came his well-built physique, chiselled and bulked up to the point you think you would barely recognise his past self. it refects in the way he walks, talks and holds himself; he loves his strength and he loves showing it off, especially to you. that's why every time you're both entangled in his sheets, it results in him urging you to stand up before hoisting you in his arms. some days he'll hold you in them and bounce you up and down his cock, relishing in the way your cries echo through the room alongside the slapping of skin. other days, he'll toss you around and headlock you as he pounds you from behind, groaning filth in your ear as he pushes you to the edge of tipping. either way, you love what he does, and you wouldn't have it any other way.

"hng, so strong, binnie!" you wail, hands clutching your boyfriend's broad back and shoulders as your nails dig into his soft skin, sure to leave marks the next day. changbin just grunts at your sounds of pleasure, too immersed in fucking you onto his cock in your current position. he's got you clinging onto him for dear life as he enters you repeatedly, pride blooming in his chest when you acknowledge how hot it is that he can pick you up so effortlessly. "y-yeah, pretty? like when binnie fucks you like this?" he stutters slightly, too wrapped up in how your pussy clings to his girth. you nod your head rapidly, babbling about how close you are and how hard you're going to cum, spraying all over your boyfriend in due time when he slams into that spot hidden inside you. you're not even given a chance to recover afterwards, changbin manhandling you onto the bed on your stomach before he's sinking back inside. "just a little more, baby. binnie's gotta cum too, okay?" he's whining, and you keen despite the sting of overstimulation rushing through, not knowing you're going to end up letting him use you for another hour.

link two.

you've always known changbin is a romantic at heart, his soft-spoken nature despite the daunting aura he gives off due to his frame often sending your brain spiralling. it gives you whiplash, the way he treats you. some days he'll fuck you like he hates you, growling dirty comments to your face and spitting in your mouth as you shake through an orgasm. other days, however, he'll craddle you in his arms, caging your body underneath him as he rocks his hips against yours in deep, fluid motions. one of his favourite things to do during these instances is hold your hand. he loves the feeling of your fingers lacing through his, holding onto him as he delivers sharp strokes inside of you. something about it feels so raw, like both your souls are intertwined in one big hug. he'll kiss you dizzy, burying his face into your neck as you both whimper 'i love you's' to each other.

"baby.. fuck, baby." changbin moans, his breath fanning hot against the sticky skin of your shoulder from where he's nosed himself in. his hand clings to yours amidst his movements, and you mewl loudly when he thrusts particularly deep inside of you. "i love you. love you so much, my baby. my pretty, perfect angel." your boyfriend pants, head moving to bring his lips to yours in a messy meeting. it's filled with so much love and care, your mouths moulding perfectly against one another's as you exchange kisses. your stomach feels like it's filled with butterflies, but you're not sure if that's because of how fucking in love you are with him or because of changbin rocking his hips into you. either way, you pull apart from him, trying to say it back in the middle of your noises of pleasure. "l-love you so much, binnie. fuck, you always give it to me so good." you praise, and changbin visibly shivers, burying his face back where it was between your neck to continue making love to you until at last, you're both coming undone together.

⥽ … HWANG HYUNJIN:

link one.

one thing you adore about your precious lover boy is his mouth. his pretty, plump lips that kiss your tears away, or his dangerously addictive tongue that's always finding it's way between your thighs when he feels like it, which is basically all the time. hyunjin can't help that you taste so sweet, or how you're always so perfectly wet for him by the time he's journeyed down to your legs where you truly need him. he'll spend hours buried between them, parting you with his slender fingers and holding you open for him to lick into. he finds extreme satisfaction in the way you push back against his body when he's having a go at you, too weak to move him in your futile efforts of running away from his mouth once he's had you cum twice without stopping. he'll continue anyways though, because to him, there's no better treat after a long day.

"hyunie, s-slow down." you whimper, the lewd suckling sounds of your clit being wrapped in your boyfriend's mouth resonating through the room as he messily eats you out. his movements are filled with fervour and desperation, something you'll never get used to experiencing despite how long you've been together. each time almost always feels like you're starring in some obscene porno with the way hyunjin always drawls out the most nasty sounds from you. this instance is no different either, because before you can even react, you're spraying droplets of clear liquid on his face, your boyfriend groaning into you at the feeling of you squirting on him. he cleans it all up with great pleasure, breathing heavily as he finally rises from his position to slot himself between your legs. his lips find yours in a dirty kiss, and you can taste yourself on his tongue. "you're insatiable." you murmur when he pulls away, and hyunjin chuckles, mouth hovering over your jaw as you tremble at his next words. "not my fault my baby's got the tastiest cunt in the world."

link two.

hyunjin is a freak through and through. you've known for a while that he gets off on all sorts of things, and one of them is primarily the risk of being sneaky in public, regardless if it's planned or not. there have been one too many occasions of the latter where you've both been out on a date together with you looking a little too good, too good to the point that the waiter starts flirting with you and leaving hyunjin seething. it's only high time after that until he's dragging you out of the restaurant and into his backseat, too lazy to even undress properly before he's sinking inside of you to fuck you as he sees red. he'll get so possessive too, groaning how you're his and his only whilst pulling you back by your hair. it's true that your boyfriend is a big lover, but when times come down to this, he'll drill into you like he absolutely loathes you.

"dirty slut, letting me fuck you where anyone can see. you'd even let that server find you like this, wouldn't you?" hyunjin grits out, his sweat dripping onto your back as he shoves his long length in you. you're sure the windows are fogged up by now, his car rocking with his movements, but neither of you care about that. "n-no, only want you to see. just you, hyune." you whimper, eyes rolling to the back of your head at the way his cock slams in you with each thrust. your boyfriend lets out a low moan at your words, yanking you back by your hair to lick at your neck. "that's right, princess. only i get to look at this pussy, hm? only i can f-fuck it right, yeah?" he grunts, slender fingers coming up to wrap around your throat as you nod shakily, taking a deep breath as hyunjin squeezes slightly. "gonna cum in this cunt and fill you up with my babies so everyone knows who you belong to. then, i'm taking you straight home to fuck you full again. got that?"

. . .

comments and reblogs are always appreciated! <3

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beloveds-embrace · 12 days ago

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I miss designationless reader so here’s a throwaway thought that has indeed been talked about before:

John wasn’t expecting it.

You’d been curled up against him on the couch, his arm wrapped around your shoulders, his fingers absentmindedly rubbing soothing circles along your back. It was nothing out of the ordinary- just another evening where he took care of you. He was warm, steady, protective. It was second nature.

And then, with a sleepy sigh, you murmured. “You’re such a good Alpha, John.”

His body locked up. His chest rumbled with a deep, involuntary purr, the praise settling over him like a heavy, addictive drug. His arms tightened around you, pulling you impossibly closer as if he could absorb the words into his very being.

“Yeah?” His voice was rough, deeper than usual, tinged with something dark and so very pleased. “That right, love?”

You nodded drowsily, your own eyes closed and unaware of the way his pupils had dilated.

His jaw clenched. He swallowed hard, forcing himself to take a slow breath, to keep his instincts in check. But fuck, hearing that from you- from his scentless darling who didn’t even understand what it meant- was dangerous.

He nuzzled into your hair, inhaling the faintest traces of warmth and home and the nest that clung to your skin. His lips brushed against your temple, voice thick and quiet when he spoke quietly. “That’s right, sweetheart. I’m your Alpha. Always.”

It didn’t end at just John, of course. You had no idea what you were doing to Ghost, either.

He had you pinned against the training mats, his forearm braced beside your head, his weight hovering just enough to keep you trapped without crushing you. Your chest rose and fell in quick little breaths, your limbs trembling from exhaustion after he’d spent the last two hours running you through drills.

He was just about to push himself up, about to offer you a hand and call it a day-

But then you exhaled, all soft and warm beneath him now, and huffed. “You’re such a good Alpha, Simon. And a good sparring partner.��

He froze.

For a full five seconds, he didn’t move, didn’t breathe. A deep, wrecked sound rumbled from his chest, his pupils blown wide. His fingers twitched against the mat, and it took everything in him not to sink down, not to press himself into you and take what his instincts so desperately wanted.

His head dipped, nose brushing against your jaw, and his voice came out hoarse. “Say that again.”

You blinked up at him, lips parted in confusion. “Huh?”

His breath hitched. Fuck. You didn’t even realize.

His body was vibrating, his muscles locked in place as he forced himself to lift away from you, to put space between you before he did something stupid. He barely managed a rough, “Nothing,” before pulling you to your feet and all but shoving you out of the gym.

He needed to calm the fuck down.

And then for Soap, it happened in the middle of a mission.

You were perched on a rooftop with him, lying low as he set up the overwatch position. The others were moving in, and he watched their backs.

His focus was sharp, fingers steady as he adjusted his scope, tracking movement below. He was good at this- at spotting danger before it could reach his pack, at keeping them safe. It was instinct.

And then your voice, quiet, cut through the tense silence. Would his reaction be like Simon and John’s, you wondered?

“You’re such a good Beta, Johnny.”

His breath caught. His hands tightened around the rifle. Heat crawled up the back of his neck, spreading to the tips of his ears, and he had to blink rapidly to keep himself from losing focus.

A slow, giddy grin crept across his face. “Aye, lass? Y’think so?”

You hummed. “Mhm. You always watch out for everyone. It’s nice.”

His chest ached. His heart pounded so hard he was sure the others could hear it through comms. His fingers flexed against the rifle as a shiver ran down his spine.

“Fuck’s sake.” He muttered under his breath, shaking his head with a helpless laugh.

He and his pack were never letting you go.

Lastly- Gaz.

It was late, and the two of you were alone. The others had already gone to bed, but you and Gaz had stayed up, quietly chatting as he helped you patch up a few scrapes from training.

He was careful, his touch gentle as he smoothed ointment over your skin and wrapped the bandages with practiced ease. His brow furrowed in concentration, lips slightly parted as he focused.

You watched him for a moment, something warm blooming in your chest. Maybe…

“You’re such a good Omega, Kyle. Thank you for taking care of me.”

He stilled, much like Ghost had done.

His fingers faltered against your arm, breath hitching sharply. His eyes snapped up to yours, wide and dark, and for a moment, he just stared at you, as if trying to decipher whether you meant to say that.

And then, very slowly, a shaky exhale left his lips. His head dipped, his nose brushing against the side of your throat, and a low, satisfied purr rumbled from deep within his chest.

“God,” he groaned, thick and hoarse. “You can’t just say things like that, dove.”

You blinked, hiding your grin. “Why not?”

His grip on your wrist tightened, just a little. He took a slow breath, scenting you out of pure instinct, even though you had no scent to take in. “Because,” he murmured, pressing a lingering kiss to your temple, “it makes me wanna keep you all to myself. Come on, up- we are going to the nest.”

Omegaverse masterlist

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wetpussyju1ce · 27 days ago

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Awkward Alpha könig x Omega fem reader (smaller than König)

+18. mdni

big awkward Alpha König with the prettiest Omega in town as his girlfriend. he didn't even ask her out. she's the one who decided he'd be the perfect boyfriend and told him he should take her out. and he was too stunned to say anything so he nodded and that's how it went down.

he's not sure how he ended up with her. everyone is convinced he somehow blackmailed or threatened her to date him. considering their worrying size difference. I mean, it's not that she's the size of a doll, she's of an okay height, it's him that's fucking massive for no apparent reason. how his mum even pushed him out is scary to think about sometimes. but his gf doesn't give a shit that he's giant looking. all she cares about is that he's happy with her and that she's happy with him.

he does anything and everything she tells him to. he cleans things, fixes things, cooks whatever she asks if he has time and energy. and it's not like she treats him as a servant. she's just so in tune with him that's she quickly realised that he really likes doing things for her. it makes him feel useful. and she also realised that he really likes it when she praises him for it. gives him rewards for doing what she asked. it may be taking him out on a date somewhere and wearing a dress she knows makes him feral. she bakes him sweet treats, packs him an extra special lunch when he goes to work, and does this thing where she dedicates a special day and special time when they're both free to dote and coddle on him. and he loves it.

she kisses him all over, runs him a bath, washes and brushes his hair, applies skincare on him while pretending she's running a spa resort, and honestly, König sometimes is convinced she likes this more than he does. treating him like a doll or a kitten. but he doesn't give a rat's ass because this shit feels good. really good.

König's a good listener as well, she found out, he remembers things very well and is detail oriented, he cares and keeps things in mind. he does things exactly as she wants, none of that weaponised incompetence shit in sight.

but the only time where he's allowed not to listen, to do whatever he pleases is when she gives him permission to go to town on her pussy. and he does. with everything he's got.

König is no longer her soft and gentle giant. instead he fucks her with his whole weight, makes her really feel their sheer size difference. he bites and squeezes and licks and sucks, leaving marks all over her soft skin. He enjoys making a mess out of her. Enjoys battering her pussy so much that when he's done, he likes to admire his hard work, how her cunt is all red and puffy, how slippery and shiny her lips are and how stretched out her hole is, and his favourite part is the mess of cum leaking out of her, that's smudged between her thighs as she shakes on the bed, worn out.

then he hovers his body overs hers, grips his massive cock and taps it on her pussy, slapping it and watching the cum web and connect the tip of his cock and her pussy. he hums and shoves his thumb in her hole, pulling to the side and she sobs. König blinks at the mess between her legs and decides he's not had enough, and shoves his already hard cock inside her, so slowly not because he needs to stretch her out, but just because he wants to make sure she feels it all. She moves her arms to push him away, cheeks wet with tears, "Kö-- Baby, please, stop--"

König leans down and smacks a wet kiss to her warm cheek, humming, "Stay still, Alpha's not done with you yet, it's the least you could do for me, hm?" He grabs her wrists in one hand and holds them down above her chest, easily pinning her as her pussy throbs around him, hot and slippery. "I do so much for my sweet Omega, I give you so much, so give me this, all I want is to stuff your pussy full of me, knot you up until you're begging me to use your ass just to give your pussy a break,"

König knows he's just dirty talking, he knows that probably won't happen, that they do have safe words set in place just in case things get too intense. But that doesn't mean he can't get creative with his dirty talk, not when she's hysterical under him, leaking like a faucet and crying and heaving under him, "König-- Alpha, please, come in my pussy-- please,"

König snarls and starts slamming his hips, his balls slapping her with each thrust, with one hand over her chest, pinning her in place and the other near her head, holding him up, he's driving in her pussy with the sole intent of filling her up, like they both want. and when she's riding up the bed by the force of his thrusts, he gets annoyed that she's getting further from him, so he drags her back by the waist and turns her around, flips her on her stomach and wraps an arm under her, pinning her against his front. He's practically holding her whole body up against him, driving her hips to meet his, she's not even doing anything but wailing and drooling as he uses her body like a fleshlight.

König loves his girl, his sweet Omega, he's so grateful that he gets to fuck her nasty like she was nothing but a tight hole to him, but also wake up to her next to him in bed, that she loves him for his kindness and sweetness, and not just because of the fact that she claimed his dick is the best thing she's ever experienced. even if it is true.

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couldeatthatgirlforlunch · 2 months ago

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To Your Love That Smells Like Crazy

Synopsis: Damian presented as an alpha, to everyone's despair. He announced he found a mate, to everyone's skepticism. You're the perfect omega, to everyone's delight.

Pairing: Yandere!Alpha!Batboys X Gn!AFAB!Omega!Reader

Tw: 18+ pwp; noncon/dubcon smut; noncon drugging; creepy batfamily members feeling attracted to Reader when they were still 15, but nothing sexual or romantic between them happens until they're 18; this chapter is mostly Damian x Reader; ABO, Reader is an omega, all the batboys are alphas; Heat symptoms; Damian and Reader are 15 at first, when the smut happens they're 18, Tim is three years older than them, Jason is five years older, Dick is 10 years older and Bruce is on his 40s; Implied future gangbang? They want to share Reader (polyamory) but right now the real action is just between Damian and Reader; Loss of virginity on both parts; Implied that Damian is also inexperienced on kissing and Reader knows a little more about that; Fingering!R receiving; Slight schoolgirl/boy/person!Reader; Reader wears lipgloss, nail polish and earrings; Omegas breasts produce milk during heat; Some breastfeeding; Breeding kink; Handcuffs; The word ‘rape’ is used twice; Lots of crying; Nipple play; Dirty talk; Slight voyeurism; Unprotected sex; Negative and selfdeprecating thoughts; Claiming ownership (biting); English isn't my first language.

Word count: 4,7k

Requested? No.

Extra notes: Planning on making one pwp chapter for each batboy, and then a last one with no smut. Also, I think I'm gonna start posting on AO3 since the tw are getting worse...

General masterlist | To Your Love That Smells Like Crazy - Series masterlist

Damian was territorial, dominant and temperamental since the family had known him. Maybe he was born like that, maybe he wasn't, they couldn't know, so, what they most hoped for was that those were just personality traits, maybe coping mechanisms, and the puppy would present as an omega or beta one day, and then maybe the hormones would make him calm down. It was a small possibility, but one could only dream, right?!

Well, those hopes were crushed when, at his fifteenth birthday, Damian woke up growling at the mix of strong alpha scents stinking his room, his territory, and started pacing inside there, not allowing anyone but the old beta Alfred to come in.

He calmed down after a couple of hours, came out of his room to eat breakfast, assessed and scented the rest of his territory (everyone's territory, really, the manor was the family’s home), and maybe humor his inner alpha by subjugating the rest of the pack. It didn't work, obviously, they were all mature alphas who went through puberty already and knew how to (mostly) manage conflict with a newly-turned alpha who still smelt like milk and was just overwhelmed with hormones.

After a full belly, it was decided he shouldn't have to go to school for the first few days (something the teenager was happy with), to learn to control his mood and impulses, visit a specialized doctor to be sure what kind of suppressants were better suited for his organism, and so he could go through his first rut in peace.

A few days later, Damian went back to school, nose itching from some not-so-pleasant alpha scents, some weak beta scents, some sugary omega scents, and a lot of milky scents coming from most students, especially unpresented puppies.

He wondered how adults live like this, if he would just get used to it, and it wouldn't bother him so much one day. One thing was to feel the smell of flowers or food, another thing was to feel people’s pheromones. But his train of thoughts were halted when he felt you.

Not even inside the classroom yet, but he could sniff you out and find you if he wanted to. Strong, yet suave, soft. Strawberries. And milk. It made his whole body shudder and tremble. Now he knew why his family occasionally asked where the delicious scent stuck to his clothes came from. Now he knew why alphas turned their heads and stared at you so much when you both were walking around. It was all you. His best friend.

Damian stared openly and unconsciously, while you made your way to him none the wiser and sat down at his side, and he almost got annoyed when, at first, you didn't seem to notice his new presentation, as if you didn't even acknowledge him as an alpha yet. But then you turned and stared at him strangely.

— Dude, why’re you staring so mu- Oh. — You blinked, finally having realized where the new musky scent was coming from. — You're lucky you smell good. My neighbor smells like feet.

When he came home, he announced he had an omega.

Obviously, that left everyone bewildered as to what he meant by that, it was impossible for during his first day back outside as an alpha, he already had a mate. But he didn't have to explain much for them to understand, the scent on his clothes was enough proof as to why he wanted you for himself.

After that, Damian invited you to hang out with him at the manor for the first time. It caused a reaction in everyone, and all of them were home, of course they were, Damian wanted to show off his future mate, and you had to meet the family, since he single-handedly decided you were going to join their pack already.

As you walked past each door on the way to Damian's room, everyone had a reaction.

The old beta and grandfather, Alfred, was very polite and nice, he smelt like tea. He smiled more freely with how sweet you were, amused by Damian's clear crush.

Next, you passed Dick by the gym, he smelt spicy, and his door was open, so he could peek better to satiate his curiosity when Damian's crush arrived, yet, he didn't expect to almost fall from his stretching position when he finally took a whiff from your sweet scent for the first time, instead of just the faint and weak thing that occasionally got stuck on Damian's clothes and hair. He managed to look mostly presentable even though he almost sprinted to the corridor to meet you. Dick was even more pleased to see you were beautiful, even in your modest school uniform. He forced himself to hold back and stay in the gym when Damian decided the interaction took long enough, and pulled you to keep walking.

Jason was next, he was in the library. His scent was thick. Woody. He coughed around his drink when he felt your scent, and Damian rolled his eyes at him. Jason’s whole body froze when he saw how soft you looked, clearly an omega. He noted that you looked older than fifteen, but Jason knew you were just a couple of months older than Damian, and you still smelled like milk. His attraction to you bothered him because he couldn't ignore your still-milky scent, and he was already imagining how you would smell like when you fully reached maturity. Your hair was shiny and looked soft, like clouds and cotton-candy. He wanted to stick his nose there and hug you. You looked the perfect company for a nap (and more). Damian quickly steered you away to keep walking.

Next was Tim, he was in his room, and he smelt like peppermint. He always kept the door closed, but during your visit, it was open wide, due to his curiosity to meet you, everyone knew that. Tim snapped his eyes away from his computer when he felt you, and stared at you wide-eyed when you appeared. You didn't even come inside, Damian didn't want to feel your scent coming off of Tim's room to haunt him every time he walked past that door for the next days. It would definitely make him want to kill his brother. Tim tried to burn your image to his brain to the smallest details. He noted the color of your nail polish, your earrings, the thing dangling from your backpack, the shine and rosiness of your lip gloss. Tim specially liked your soft-spoken voice, and it bothered him how polite, neutral and distant it was, because clearly you both didn't now each other, you were just there as Damian's friend, meeting his older brother for the first time, and just wanted to go hole up inside Damian's room as soon as possible to avoid the weird interaction.

Soon, your wishes came through, and you spent the next few hours there with Damian basically teaching you everything and doing your homework. It was a new behavior, he never did that out of instinct before, some people asking him for help would annoy him, others, like you, he would calmly help out of the hidden kindness in his heart, but he never took initiative before. You brushed it off as just new alpha behavior and just used his either gentlemanly or condescending behavior, if it meant you could gain things out of it and be lazy.

At dinner, you finally met his father. Bruce Wayne was the alpha of a pack full of alphas and a beta. His himbo and playboy persona gave you the impression that he wasn't the most dominant alpha around, but you were proven wrong when you felt his sandalwood aroma and saw his towering frame. His personality was the same you saw on the TV, though, pleasant like a TV host or just a popular guy. On the inside, he was fixated with you, ignoring your milky childish scent and your school uniform. He wanted you around the house more. God knows how much a bit more of softness could help the family’s dynamic. Maybe that was what was missing, an omega around the place. Like you. Actually, it could be you. He thought about convincing Damian to stick to living in the manor even after you were both married adults. Or you could be Bruce’s when you were of age. Wait, how old were you?

Alfred drove you and Damian to your place after everything was done, all the alphas with a heavy heart, bothered that you had to go, that you couldn't spend the night with them yet. Even if you were already theirs.

It took a lot to convince Damian to share you, but eventually, he begrudgingly agreed, they were a pack, after all, not just a family, they stick together, take care of each other and of each other's interests. Having something that wasn't just vigilantism in common would be good bonding for them, and the closer a pack could get, the better. That he knew. A pack sharing someone wasn't exactly unheard of either.

After that, Damian started inviting you to the manor more often. Almost every week you were there. Your parents started saying that Damian probably was interested in you, but you laughed it off, never thinking an alpha like him would be interested in an omega like you.

The family made the best of that time to get you used to them, to their dynamic, and to make you feel at home, safe, trustful. They also wanted your scent to get stuck everywhere. To get to know you. To learn everything about you. To make plans.

When Damian's 18 birthday came, you were already legally an adult too, and they invited you over, saying it was a birthday party. When you got there, the party consisted in only you and the family.

The conversation was nice.

They put drugs on your piece of cake that simulated an out of cycle heat.

It started with fatigue.

Then fever.

Your eyes got blurred.

You thought you were getting sick, and just planned on taking cold medicine when you got home.

The alphas were slowly coming closer and circling you, unnoticed.

You felt weird in your intimate parts, maybe you needed to pee.

You stood up, but your knees were weak, and you almost fell, if it wasn't for Dick, who caught you mid-air.

All scents became clearer when your eyes locked. You wondered what the look on his face meant, confused.

You felt their excitement, and arousal. And you felt something poking your thigh.

You felt your own underwear getting wet.

You asked them to take you home, but they denied. That made you feel antsy, so you tried searching for your phone to call your parents to pick you up, but you couldn't find it. It got especially hard when Damian picked you up and started walking up the stairs with you.

— It's okay, omega. You're okay with us. I’m going to take care of you… — Your hands trembled when he purred the word ‘omega’, mumbled those words, and nuzzled the side of your head with his nose, taking a deep breath from your sweet strawberry scent, and faint sex smell, due to the wetness between your thighs. No longer any hint of milk anymore, since you already reached maturity just a couple of months before him, and now he also didn't smell like puppy anymore.

— N-No… D-Dami… W-Where are you taking me? What a-are you gonna do? … I wanna go home… I’m not feeling good… — You whimpered and tried to weakly move out of his hold, it didn't work.

— You are home, beloved. And I’m going to help you feel better… With my knot. — Your eyes widened. — I will fuck you real good and fill you with my semen. I know it is your first time, it is mine too. But do not worry, your heat will make it painless and you will be satisfied with me. — You whimpered higher, your omega was preening, crying for a knot, your pussy squeezing hard, but your mind knew it was wrong. Clearly something was wrong. Why was no one helping? Couldn't they see you were caught by surprise with your heat and were saying no to him? Why were they looking at you like that? A cough coming from somewhere seemed to snap Damian out of it, like he remembered something. — Ah, right. And then, you will receive father’s, and my siblings' knots. I will go first since it’s my birthday and I claimed you first. — Damian blushed, despite his smug tone.

You cried for help, at first, it came out weak, as your omega didn't want to make something the alphas would disapprove of, but the closer you got to the room they designated for the moment, the reality of what was coming was overtaking your instincts. Especially after your belly started to hurt at being empty of seed.

The alphas only shushed you, and you helplessly watched as Tim handcuffed one of your hands to the bedpost as soon as Damian laid you down on the nest they made for you, and Dick and Jason each started taking your sneakers off. Bruce was standing a few feet away from the bed, Alfred at his side. The oldest alpha’s eyes were glued to your laid down figure, hungry and serious. Darker than you had ever seen. You've never been more scared of him before. He occasionally commented something to Alfred, that you vaguely registered as instructions, that also started being given to his children.

You weakly tugged at the handcuff and tried to sit up at the same time, but Damian pushed himself between your legs, and held you down by the waist. Dick and Jason held your legs open to accommodate him better, and your overwhelmed brain barely noticed their hands also rubbing your ankles and thighs. You've never felt more aroused and more scared your whole life.

Alfred exited the room to start doing Bruce's orders, and he kept watching. Tim, who had disappeared out of your line of sight for a second, came back holding a long, shiny and glinting pair of scissors. You tugged harder at the restraints and tried to push your body up to get away, thinking he was going to hurt you, but he just purred at you to calm you down, unfortunately, it worked, and your pussy tightened when Damian hissed at feeling your center pressing against his hard cock, when you pushed your hips up and against his. You could feel him poking your underthigh, only the clothes separating you.

— It's okay, omega, I’m just cutting off your clothes, it's gonna be easier to strip you that way. — Tim said soothingly, while purring and almost cooing at you. Your eyes widened when he said that, and actually started cutting your shirt open, until Dick was able to pull the ruined fabric off from under you.

All three alphas started purring at seeing your braless torso, chest already swelling with milk and nipples darkened. Omegas body produced milk when they had a puppy to feed, or during heats, and ruts, when an alpha was in a rut, and the omega was helping them, because the body understood it was a rough period, where a lot of energy was spent and not much nutrition came, since both were too busy procreating and too weak to go searching for food, so the milk was a lot helpful in those moments. There were even historical moments where that skill was useful in other contests, when the economy got so bad that most packs were starving, and the omegas of the pack helped them survive with milk.

Damian bit his lips and brought his right hand up to your left breast, squeezing it softly. Everyone was entranced, watching a single drop of milk come out, the breast not full yet. You arched your back, it felt good, so good that for a moment you forgot why you wanted to get away. Damian also didn't help your train of thought when his thumb started rubbing your stiff nipple, sending ripples of pleasure through your body and forcing your eyes closed. You forced yourself not to make a sound.

You snapped out of it when you felt Tim cutting your pants and underwear off. Your eyes widened at the feeling of being exposed and the almost cold air that made your hair stand. Your legs trembled and you felt Dick and Jason's hands working, uncoordinated pads of fingers dancing across the inside of your thighs.

Your arousal’s scent freely infastated the room now, and half of them growled, in exception of Bruce and Tim, who were keeping themselves more calm and collected.

— It's time to go now, let Damian and (Y/N) have their moment. — Bruce announced and you watched as Damian smirked, then you hid your face, sobbing against the pillow. He cooed at you while his other hand went down between your legs and started rubbing slow circles while pressing against your clit.

Dick sighed.

— Take care of them, Dami. Have fun and enjoy. — Dick patted Damian's shoulder, but you weren't sure the alpha above even noticed you, too busy gazing at you and your body, enjoying how warm and wet you were.

— Yeah, remember to do what we taught you, baby bird. — Damian only hummed at Jason's comment, and leaned down, pressing his chest to yours. He brought his mouth to the juncture of your neck and shoulder, and started leaving a trail of kisses up your neck, and under your jaw.

It was your first time feeling someone doing this, when you read fanfics and books, you never thought this could feel good like the writing always described, but it actually did, and you hated that you liked it, crying harder against the pillow and hoping his lips weren't moving closer to your face because he wanted to kiss you. You felt his nose sniffing your scent gland.

Tim hummed.

— Be careful with them, and don't take too long, everyone wants their turn. — Tim warned softly and was the last to exit the room, closing the door, but not locking it.

Damian’s warm breath huffed against your neck.

— Finally alone… — Damian whispered with a hoarse voice that made your hair stand. You whimpered and squeezed your eyes harder.

— Please, let me go… You don't have to do this, I won't tell anyone- — Your sentence was cut short when one of Damian's long and thick fingers invaded your entrance delicately. Your mouth opened on a silent scream, and the alpha watched you with lust in his eyes.

— Beloved… Omega… You will come to like this, I promise you that… — He sucked a faint hickey on your scent gland. His right hand started exploring the rest of your body, fumbling and squeezing the softer parts he found out he liked the most. You couldn't control your panting and small moans when his finger curled upwards inside you, touching your sweet spot.

— D-Dam-... A-Alpha… — You arched your back when he started fingering you faster, your sensitive walls milking a single finger, crying for a thick knot, thirsty for his seed, your womb empty of puppies.

— See… — He kissed your cheek. — We barely started, and yet… — Another kiss, closer to your mouth. — You're already dripping and earning for my knot… — Your lips met, it didn't seem like he had much experience, maybe it was his first kiss? Either way, you knew a little more about what you were doing, and he quickly learned. In just a few minutes, he was dominating your mouth. The younger alpha gave a slow bite to your lips when a second finger joined the first in fucking you, wet noises eccoing around the room.

You gained some clearance after a few moments, when he took his fingers off. You whined, not knowing if it was to plead him not to rape you, or because you wanted his cock stuffing you as soon as possible. You tried to force your head away from his, and he relented, pausing the kiss, but only to start taking his own clothes off. If your face wasn't already hot from the fever and arousal, you knew it would be now, feeling shy with everything new that was happening and his naked body, and surprised that you never once noticed his muscles before.

While afraid, you peeked down and saw his hard and bobbing dick, it was thick and above average, but not too much. Not too much for someone who wasn't a virgin like you were, that is.

You tried to sit up, to get away from him in a bolt of strength you didn't have until now, fighting your omega with as much as you could. But it proved to be no help, as it punished you by making your belly tug and hurt twice more. Your torso fell down on the bed again, powerless by pain, numbness, and the restraint around your wrist.

Damian only cooed, still kneeling above you and between your legs. You cried. You didn't feel his calloused hands holding and caressing your hips, but you felt the blunt wet tip against your entrance. You were ruined.

Your parents would hate you. They would say it was your fault for ignoring their warnings and shoving yourself inside a home full of alphas with no omega. They would kick you out of the pack. And if the Wayne's did good on their word of raping you one after the other, you would probably get pregnant, as you weren't on birth control. That is, if they didn't kill you or kept you hostage in their basement. And even if your pack wanted to, they wouldn't be able to do anything to get justice for you, as the Wayne's were much more influential and rich. You were only going to the same school as Damian because your parents worked as teachers there, for god's sake. You were doomed. And if they decided to mark you…

You cried harder, ashamed of being so aroused now and so dumb all along. For the first time, you hated being an omega.

But all those self-deprecating thoughts were muffled when he finally invaded you. It was slow, gentle, testing how things felt. Damian heaved a breath and buried his face on your neck, breathing your scent deep. It felt amazing, for the both of you. You were so deep in your heat that of course it wasn't going to hurt at all, silly you. Those alphas were right, they are always right. They can take care of you.

— … More… Please, I want more… — You moaned and tried moving your hips against his, forcing his cock to push against your walls faster. Damian's head snapped up, looking at you with interest and lust. You were already cockdrunk, as he was pussydrunk, and he wasn't even halfway inside yet.

He bottomed out with more hurry, after pulling in and out twice to test if you really weren't in pain. He moaned deep against your face before shoving his lips against yours again, while he thrusted his hips. The alpha found the perfect rhythm while pulling almost all the way in and out, in a steady dance. Your moans got louder by the second, your inner omega happy with all the attention you were receiving.

Your free hand shot up to rest on his back, nails digging his scarred skin, not knowing what to do. Damian's hips gradually grew in force, until the bed was shaking and softly hitting the wall. The sound of your hips colliding and your wetness clear as day didn't bother you, as you only started begging for the alpha. To be owned. To be knotted. To be breeded.

— See how I take care of you… — He kissed down your collarbone, murmuring against your skin. — Make you feel good… — One of his hands slid down to grip your thigh, pulling your leg up, purposefully looking for a deeper angle to ravish you. You gasped as he found it, and his thrusts got harder. You mumbled a bunch of agreements to whatever he was saying, you just wanted his knot! — You're my omega now, our omega now… — He softly bit your pouting nipple, being considerate as to not hurt the sensitive and swelling area. Your hand trembled on his back and shot up to pull his hair in an overwhelming wave of pleasure. He pulled weakly at your nipple with his teeth scraping the nerves on the area, until he let it go. — We will stuff you full of cum everyday and every hour… — His lips trailed down your ribs, but the position didn't allow him to go further down. He wanted to leave kisses on your whole body, and now he could do that, because now you weren't escaping them. He growled, resigning himself to traill his lips up through the space between your breasts. Your body trembled with the sound. — Fuck you real good… You will never have to beg, omega, we will spoil you with everything you need, everything you want… — His huge hands trailed up your body until they reached your chest. He squished them for a moment, enjoying how soft they were, and how pliant you were, looking straight into your dazed cockdrunk eyes. Imagining how your perfect pups will look like. Milk started coming out in small drops, so silent that he only noticed when it was dripping down his hand. His eyes shot down to assess the view and his knot started growing at the sight of your swelling breasts and darkened nipples, giving up milk for him, for him, so soft his fingers were digging and moulding the flesh, all while they were dancing up and down, bouncing, seducing him. You were seducing him. You were stunning, ravishing, perfect without even trying. He was happy his pack was the one tying you down to them, he wanted to kill someone just for thinking that someone else could have you like this. — … And you will give us everything we want…

He tentatively, almost hypnotized, leaned down and sucked your stiff nipple between his soft lips, sucking a small amount of milk inside, letting It rest on his tongue for a moment, savouring the taste, before swallowing.

You were sensitive, with a dull ache, but his suckling helped with the pain and sent waves of flickering pleasure against your body. You could feel him forcing his knot with each thrust to fit inside you as it gradually grew, and gasped, whimpering pleas for more. Begging him to keep going and stuff you full. You were both getting close to orgasm. Damian shut his eyes hard, overstimulated with the growing pleasure. He let go of your breast when he started feeling his canines getting more protruded, itching to bite your neck and claim you, his eyes also getting brighter, his inner alpha waiting to take ownership over you. Strip you off the life you had before. Forcing you to subjugate, until the smallest cells in your body knew who you belonged to.

He didn't hold himself, of course, and your first mark soon made home above your collarbone, your souls locking together and the intimacy going to an extraordinary level when you reached the peak of pleasure in tandem, while his knot swelled and made you stuck together, stopping any drop of cum from going to waste.

Every single drop was forced to stay inside of you, and Damian lifted your almost limp head, you both drunk, still coming down from the waves of pleasure, and forced your lips against his neck, his scent gland, and you, whose omega and heat had taken over since the moment his cock invaded you, didn't hesitate to mark him back, locking the bond completely.

— Good omega, good omega…

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waves-against-a-cliff · 5 months ago

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After the end - Post-apocalypse Omegaverse AU

Summary - You won't be cornered in your territory and that's final. You begin to make little presents for your trespassers should they dare to enter your woods. Meanwhile, the four alphas find something very interesting...

Tags - Omegaverse (duh), alpha/beta/omega dynamics, non traditional dynamics, all of the 141 are alphas, you're an omega. Eventual smut, dub-con, knotting, mating press, polyamory, alphas love alphas. 141 x reader. The reader is officially a bad ass

Prologue

You stared down at the nest you had created and suddenly felt disgusted and angry. These alphas have stepped onto your territory and made you react like this. Three years of near bliss, despite the struggles, gone. The anger rolled over you in waves, it boiled your blood to the point you felt hot all over your body.

No. You weren't about to cower in your cabin and let some stupid alphas wander all over your territory. You were going to do something about it. You marched back towards your living room and opened one of the closets on the side of the hallway. You grabbed the bag full of supplies and swung it over your shoulder then looked at the shotgun leaned against the wall.

You hesitated only for a moment before you grabbed it too. Even in the times before the world ended you hadn't been one for conventionality. You preferred to be alone on your own property living your own life. And no alpha or beta, whether back then or now, was going to take this from you. You shoved the extra ammunition into your pockets and unbarred your door.

The cold winter air nipped at your skin and distantly you could still smell their combined scents. You pulled stuffing from a torn apart pillow and stuffed it up your nose. Happy hunting indeed, you thought as you stepped off into your piece heaven that would become their hell.

"Hey captain," Gaz said as they wandered through the very small town. It had likely been abandoned for ages. The first thing Gaz had noticed was that the windows were smashed in but the doors boarded up. Then he noticed the marks, spray paint in different symbols meaning something or another. "I think this place has been completely stripped bare."

Price hummed thoughtfully and turned to look around at the other buildings. All of them in similar states of disrepair but all with symbols sprayed onto them. He turned to his team, and contemplated their next steps. "Do you think they might still be around?" Ghost spoke up finally.

Price glanced at his lieutenant. They had stuck together when the entire world had completely gone down. First the electricity and then a disease. It apparently didn't take much else to throw the world into chaos. People killed people all the time before but not even Ghost had been prepared for the level of depravity some people dove to. Kidnapping local omegas, killing betas or hunting alphas for sport. Blowing up buildings and ransacking stores.

They had all stuck together as a pack since that was what they had always done. They wandered from place to place and it had taken them a little over a year to make it back to the UK. Bonds grew stronger and their ruts continued. They were all each other's support. Price considered the facts in front of them.

"Negative. I don't think whoever did this is still around," Price said as he eyed the pharmacy. The only building not having been closed off or marked with an 'x'. "Soap, Gaz, go investigate the pharmacy, me and Ghost will try to find any other buildings not marked."

They wandered around the town for a bit with Gaz and Soap meeting back up not long after they had departed. "Over tae counter medicine like Advil but nae much else," Soap tossed Ghost the bottle who looked over it.

"Not expired yet. Good find."

"Wait," Gaz suddenly said and sniffed the air. Everyone paused, Gaz had the best nose of them all. Able to sniff out any scents even days old. He walked over to a telephone pole that had a red smear on it and sniffed with his nose almost on the old blood.

He felt his cock chub up his pants immediately at the scent. At first it smelled like sweat and dirt but underneath that was a tangy, sour then sweet like a granny smith apple or a green grape, scent. An unmistakable smell of omega.

Gaz turned to the three other alphas, "There's an omega around." He grinned.

Hehe I'm gonna have fun writing this

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fireinmoonshot · 6 months ago

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surprise | tyler owens x reader

Pairing: Tyler Owens x Reader Summary: You drive to Oklahoma to surprise Tyler before a chase after he's had a stressful week. Warnings: Tyler calls reader baby. Other than that, I think there's nothing! Word Count: 1.2k A/N: I randomly had this idea after I rewatched Twisters tonight and thought it was so cute so I had to write it. I am also working on some requests you guys have sent in, just have been having a crazy few days at work so I haven't had the chance to finish and post them – but they're coming! For now, enjoy this! 💗

The second that Tyler stops the truck, it’s practically swarmed by tens of fans, all wanting an autograph and a selfie and the chance to see the famous Tornado Wranglers in person. The gas station is packed to the brim full of actual professional storm chasers and amateurs. You would consider yourself to be neither.

From your spot across the parking lot, you watch as Tyler exits the car, yelling his famous catchphrase: “If you feel it…”, the fans finishing it off with “chase it!” You’re leant up against the door of your own car, a smile on your face as you see the smile on Tyler’s. He almost always takes the time to greet everyone that’s come out to see them, signing photos and taking selfies. His stash of pre-signed photos that he keeps in his car always coming in handy.

Dating the one and only Tyler Owens, famous storm chaser, was not something for the weak. You’d known that from the very start. To anyone else, it’d probably bother them, having to wait for him to interact with all of the fans before he could make his way over to you. But for you? You love being able to watch him, see the genuine joy on his face at meeting the people who had changed his life by watching their once little Youtube videos. You wish you got to do it more often.

You know that when Tyler does eventually spot you, it’ll be worth all the waiting, worth the hours of solo driving you’d done alone to get here. Nearly seven hours of driving from your home in Arkansas just to surprise your boyfriend. He’d been stressed lately with the lack of storms across Oklahoma and the neighbouring states along Tornado Alley, wondering what was going to happen to their channel if they couldn’t produce content for it.

But the sight of everyone still taking selfies with the Wranglers proves to you that Tyler has nothing to worry about at all. You can see the Tornado Wranglers have a loyal fanbase.

You watch for a few more minutes, stifling a yawn as you do. You’d stopped after five hours of driving last night and spent the night at a motel which had given you one of the worst nights sleep of your life, and done the last few hours in the morning before arriving at the gas station that Tyler had told you they were headed to today. It was the closest gas station to where storms were predicted today, hence the crowd.

You’re about to start wandering over towards Tyler and the other Wranglers, still making their way through the crowd of fans, when you can see Tyler spot you. He’s just finished taking a selfie with a middle-aged woman when he stops in his tracks, eyes settling on you. Even from your distance, you can tell he’s spotted you.

It’s confirmed when he mutters a quick word to the people around him before he takes off at a run, straight towards you. He kicks up dust and dirt as he runs, trying to get to you as quickly as possible. You can’t keep the smile off your face as he gets closer.

“Baby, what the hell!?” He yells, not long before he reaches you.

Tyler almost knocks the wind out of you as he barrels into you, wrapping his arms around your body and lifting you off the ground. He spins you around in a circle and it’s impossible not to laugh at the feeling, his arms tight around you. He sets you back down on the ground and pulls away, hands still resting on your waist.

“Surprise,” you grin at him.

“You drove all this way just to surprise me?” Tyler looks at you in awe, his eyes both filled with an immense amount of love as well as a tinge of worry. “Baby, that’s a seven hour drive. Didn’t you have a shift yesterday? Please don’t tell me you drove all night.”

You shake your head. “I only drove till midnight, then I stopped at a motel. Promise.”

Tyler moves one of his hands to cup your cheek before he leans in and presses a kiss to your forehead. “You’re insane, y’know that? Drivin’ till midnight after an eight hour shift. You should’ve told me. What if something had happened to you on the road?”

You can see the worry etched on his face so you waste no time in pulling him in for a hug again, burying your face in his chest. Tyler reacts immediately, gently resting one of his hands on the side of your head. You feel him take a deep breath, taking everything in, taking your presence in.

“Ty, nothing happened. I’m here, I’m safe. I’m with you.”

He nods and rubs one of his hands up and down your back. “Thank you for comin’, baby. You have no idea how good it feels to be holdin’ you right now. When I looked over here and I saw you… was like everything felt like it might actually be okay.”

“Cause it will be, Ty,” you assure him. “But I do feel a little bad for tearing you away from the people that didn’t get selfies or autographs with you before you ran off.”

Tyler pulls away from the hug, but he still keeps a hand on you. “You got nothin’ to feel bad about, baby. I promise you that. And they all know who you are, I’m sure they get it.”

You smile up at him and then have to stifle another yawn. Your attempt at hiding it fails spectacularly, though, and Tyler narrows his eyes at you.

“Did you get any sleep last night?” One of his hands rests on your cheek again, a thumb gently stroking back and forth over your cheek.

“A little,” you say. “The motel was kinda dodgy. The mattress was like a rock.”

Tyler gives you one of his best unimpressed looks and shakes his head. “Okay, I’m sending you back to our motel. I’ll give you my room key, it’s in the truck, and you can go and rest up while we try and chase this storm this afternoon.”

“No, no,” you disagree. “I’m comin’ with you, Ty. I didn’t drive all this way just to be cooped up in some motel watching your chase on a computer screen. I gotta steal my seat back from Boone. He’s been gettin’ way too comfortable up there.”

Tyler let out a laugh and leans down to gently peck your lips. “Oh, baby, you know that seat belongs to you. And believe me, Boone knows it too.”

He attempts to step backwards, then, but you’re quick to move, placing one of your hands on the back of his neck and bringing his lips back to yours. Tyler has no objections, wrapping his arms around your waist as he kisses you back. It’s been weeks since he last saw you, weeks since he got to kiss you like this. You’re surprised he managed to hold off on it for so long after reuniting with you.

“Come on,” you say after breaking apart from the kiss. You reach down and grab Tyler’s hand in yours, weaving your fingers through his. “Let’s go give the rest of these people their autographs and selfies and get me my seat back.”

Tyler grins, giving your hand a squeeze. “Lead the way, baby.”

#tyler owens #tyler owens x you #tyler owens x reader #twisters #twisters x reader #twisters x you #twisters 2024 #tyler owens fanfic #twisters fanfic

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penascigarette · 2 months ago

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smooth operator ch 2. this bitch bites

Joel Miller x f!phone sex worker

➴wc: 7k | summary: you accidentally send a picture of yourself to joel which results in a video call

➴warnings: mdni, fxm phone sex, m&f masturbation, dirty talk

➴an: hi! tysm to everyone for all the love on the first part of this silly little series. I've been having so much fun writing and interacting with everyone. y'all are the best. feel free to come scream with me about this or anything <333

masterlist | series masterlist

For the rest of the night, your mind plays your conversation with Joel on repeat.

Elliot is asleep when you barge into his room, itching to share your dirty little secret. His limbs are sprawled like a starfish, his mouth hanging open, a light snore escaping him. He looks so peaceful that you decide against waking him. Instead, you sneak back to your room, feeling as if you'll explode if you don't tell someone soon. You’re a talker, and keeping this bottled up feels like pure torture.

Blowing a breath out, you stare up at the ceiling. How you feel isn’t easy to explain.

Your body is more satisfied than it’s been in a long time, aching for more.

Your heart agrees, thrilled at the thought of a forbidden relationship with this sexy, mysterious man. It hasn’t felt much since your last boyfriend—only pain and disappointment.

Your head, though, is another story. It reminds you how much trouble you could get into. Jane has a strict no-relationships rule between workers and clients, fearing the temptation to give free "sessions" or show favoritism. She’s all business, no play.

Dread swirls in your stomach. What you’ve done is dangerous, even if it was ridiculously mind-blowing. Joel wants a repeat; if you deny him, he could tell Jane.

You could always deny it… say it was just part of the act.

But your heart hates that thought. Even considering letting Joel down makes it ache as if you’ve already done it. How can you feel so much for someone after one phone call?

Because it’s exciting, the bad girl in you whispers.

You’ll get into trouble, your rational side argues, but it’s outnumbered.

Think about how amazing he made you feel, your body chimes in, tingling in remembrance. You came harder than ever, and he didn’t even touch you.

“God,” you groan, pressing your palms into your eyes until they hurt and you see funny lights. “I need sleep.” With no way to figure it out on your own, you know you need Elliot. For now, you push the thoughts away and try to rest.

Before you open your eyes, you know you’ve woken up ridiculously early. Something feels different—a sensation you can’t quite place.

You don’t have the cozy, half-asleep feeling you usually enjoy. The blankets aren’t warm or soft enough, and you’re itching to get up and do something. So, you throw the covers off, get dressed, and spend extra time on your hair and makeup. The effort gives you a bounce in your step, though the knot of unease in your gut remains.

Grabbing your phone, you head to the bathroom, use the toilet, and brush your teeth. There’s no noise from Elliot’s room—you doubt he’ll wake up for another hour. You go downstairs instead.

The kettle is still full from yesterday, so you flick it on and get your coffee ready. You debate making breakfast but decide against it—eating without Elliot feels wrong.

Less than a minute later, the water boils. You pour it into your mug, watching the steam rise before curling up on the sofa.

Being awake this early makes you feel like you could get so much done. Maybe you’ll work out after coffee, or tidy up and throw out the takeaway boxes before more clutter piles up.

But your mind drifts back to Joel. You wonder about his morning routine. Does he put effort into his appearance because he’s good with women? You imagine him with a six-pack… God, you hope he has one.

No, stop, you think, shaking your head. What does it matter? But the thought of him only makes your fantasies steamier.

Your plans are forgotten, and you spend an hour imagining every inch of him. You don’t even notice your coffee going cold until Elliot flops onto the sofa beside you.

“There you are,” he says groggily, rubbing his eyes. “Ooh, you made coffee.” Without asking, he takes your mug, grimacing after a sip. “This is cold. How long have you been sitting here?”

“About an hour,” you admit with a shrug.

“Oh.” His brows lift. “How come, honey?” Concern laces his tone.

“I have something to tell you.” Finally, the words spill out, and you shift to face him.

“Did you finally shave your legs?” he asks, deadpan, taking another sip of coffee.

“Shut up. It hasn’t been that long, okay? This is serious.”

“Fine.” He smirks. “Go on.”

“I had phone sex last night.”

His brow furrows. “Sweetie, phone sex is your job. Are you feeling okay?” He places a hand on your forehead.

You roll your eyes, batting his hand away. “Not like that! I got off with him.”

Elliot’s jaw drops. “You… you flicked your bean to a client?”

Guiltily, you nod. “In my defense, he has the sexiest voice I’ve ever heard. And he’s amazing at talking dirty. Better than me!”

“Really?” Elliot’s skepticism is written all over his face.

You nod, leaning closer. “He said things like… ‘spread yourself open’ and ‘you’re such a good girl for me.’ He even told me to force my clit out of its hood! Most guys don’t even know what a that is!”

Elliot blinks, grabbing a cushion to cover his lap. “I completely understand.”

You laugh, though the thought of getting in trouble dampens your mood.

Elliot waves dismissively. “Just don’t tell anyone. I won’t either. In fact, I expect details from future calls.”

You snort. "I don't know if there will be any more."

He looks at you like you've grown another head. "Why?"

"Because I don't want to get in trouble for this," you admit, biting your lip for a moment. "Even if it was incredible."

"You won't get into trouble." He sounds so sure. "Seriously. I may or may not...have done the same thing. More than once," he mumbles the last part.

"What!?" you exclaim, wondering how the hell you're only just hearing about this. "Why haven't you told me?" You poke your bottom lip out at him. "You're keeping a lot of secrets from me lately."

He pinches your lip between his thumb and forefinger, forcing you to pull it back into your mouth. "I didn't think it was that big of a deal. I don't tell you every time I jack off to porn, now do I? As for my date with Danny, I told you as soon as I had the balls to."

"But it is a huge deal," you argue.

"Yeah, to you, but...you're a bit of a prude."

"I am not. How can you be a prude when you work as a phone sex operator?”

"You are," he teases lightly. "When you had that one-night stand after you and Ben broke up, you cried for three days."

Your shoulders slump, and you mumble, "I was ashamed."

"Well, you shouldn't be," he says firmly. "There's nothing to be ashamed of. Sex is beautiful. And fun."

"That's easy for you to say," you point out. "You're a man. Women get labeled and judged." And oh boy, do you hate being judged. It's why you don't tell people what you do for a living.

He softens at that. "You shouldn't be so worried about what people think of you. You only live once."

"I know," you mumble, not knowing what to say to that. Because it's true—you shouldn't be so concerned about others' thoughts of you—but it's not something you can just switch off. You change the subject. "So tell me about the times you've...you know." You know it’ll make you feel better.

"Well," he licks his lips and puts one hand on the back of the sofa while the other holds his coffee. "The first time, I can't even remember his name. He called when I was in the middle of getting off, and we ended up getting off together with my porno playing."

You both laugh at that.

"The second time," he continues, a certain fondness in his tone. "Was this guy called 'K.' I don't know why. There was just this... attraction, and we did it. Then it just became this thing."

You frown in confusion. "A thing? Does that mean you still do it?"

"Yep," he pops the 'p' with a grin. "He doesn't call very often, though."

"I can't believe..." you break into a breathless chuckle because here you are, worrying your ass off, and it's actually no big deal. Well, as long as Jane doesn't find out. "This is crazy."

"Maybe," Elliot shrugs and then wiggles his eyebrows. "But isn't it so much more fun that way?"

You have to agree.

___________

That night, you find yourself itching for Joel 's call. You’ve even stripped yourself naked in preparation. If that’s not eager, you don’t know what is.

Every time your phone rings, your heart leaps into your throat. It's ridiculous to act like this because of a man you don’t even know, but for some mysterious reason, he's caught your attention, and you're not letting him go anytime soon.

When it turns out it’s not him on the other end of the line, you find yourself entertaining the idea that he lied when he said he’d call again tonight. Maybe he only said it to keep you happy, or he hadn’t known what else to say.

Although he seemed interested. Interested enough to ask for your real name...you’re not counting him out quite yet. The night isn't over.

It takes another two phone calls before his name finally flashes on your screen.

Almost immediately, your stomach twists with excitement, and an ache starts to form between your legs. You're nervous but in a good way. It reminds you of the very first time you had phone sex with a client. When you manage to calm yourself down, you answer the phone, trying to sound as casual as possible.

"Hey, you." Does that sound okay? You hope so.

"Hey," he greets, his voice wobbling just a little. Maybe he feels the same way you do. "How've you been?"

You blink, momentarily stunned. Did he really just ask that? None of your clients ever ask how you’re doing. Not that you’re complaining—it’s nice to be treated like an actual human being instead of just a way to get off.

"I'm great," you say honestly. "What about you?"

"Much better now," he replies, and you bite the corner of your lip to keep a goofy smile from breaking through. "I have to say, I've been thinking about you all damn day. Do you have any idea how hard it is to walk around with a near-constant boner?"

You’re already gushing down below. Squeezing your thighs shut at the image he’s planted in your mind, you reply breathlessly, "Can't say I have, but I know what it's like walking around with a fountain in your panties all day long."

His laugh is dark. "A fountain? Sounds like someone's been thinking naughty thoughts."

"More than one, actually."

"Mm," he hums in approval. You hear rustling in the background as if he’s settling in. "Tell me one of them."

There are so many to choose from, but one stands out. "Okay," you say, licking your lips. "But you can't laugh, okay?"

"I wouldn't dare," he assures, though you can hear the amusement in his voice.

"Right." You take a deep breath. "So... it's a student-teacher fantasy."

"Ah," he responds knowingly.

"Yeah, so, you're the teacher, and I'm the student." Christ, you can’t believe you’re actually saying this. It feels stupid and embarrassing—so much easier to talk about other people’s fantasies than your own. "I have detention, and it’s just you and me in the classroom. You’re looking over schoolwork, and since you’re distracted, I decide to, you know."

"Say it." It’s a command, and the increase in his breathing tells you this is getting him just as hot as it gets you.

"I play with my pussy," you admit, scraping your teeth along your bottom lip. "I slip my hand down my panties, find my clit, pinch it, and rub it. I hold back my moans because I don’t want you to hear." Without realizing it, your eyes shut, and your hands wander down your body, acting out the fantasy. You’re already wet—so wet it surprises you, soaking your thighs and dampening the sheets.

"Fuck," he draws the word out. "You think you’re being quiet, but you’re not, Princess. And your pussy’s so fucking wet I can smell it from my desk."

"God," you choke out, your breath hitching. "I don’t care that you know. I’m too close—I don’t even care if you see." You’re not lying; you’re so close, but not ready to finish yet. Leaving your clit alone for a moment, you slide two fingers inside yourself—they glide in easily. "In fact, I move further down the chair and spread my legs so you can see what I’m doing."

Both of you are worked up now. You hear him stroking himself hard in the background.

He growls dangerously. "I know exactly what you want, Princess. I come over to you, throw the table out of my way, and sink to my knees. You’re so fucking wet I can see everything through your white panties. It’s clinging to your slit and your poor swollen clit."

"God."

"My whole mouth slots over your creaming cunt, and I suck the sweet juices through your panties."

Your pussy clenches hard around your fingers. "Jesus Christ. You’re so good." Your hand is practically swimming in your own cum.

"Your hard little nub doesn’t stand a chance against my tongue, and I have you gushing into my mouth in under ten seconds."

You have no self-control. You don’t want to come yet, but your hand has a mind of its own. Before you know it, you’re going over the edge.

"Ohmygod, Joel !" you squeak embarrassingly, thighs shaking around your hand as you rock your hips, trying to prolong the sensation.

"Did you come?" he asks, both amused and proud.

"You didn’t give me much choice," you reply weakly, tiny waves of pleasure still coursing through you as your hand lingers.

"Hey, I’m not complaining, trust me," he says. "The sounds you make when you come are heaven, baby."

You blow a stray piece of hair off your face and finally pull your fingers out. "Have you come? Do you want to keep going?" you ask. "I didn’t even get to the part where I give you an epic blowjob."

"Please, by all means, continue."

You grin. "All right. So after that mind-blowing orgasm, I kiss you so I can taste myself on your lips."

"Fuck, that’s hot, Princess." You hear him stroke himself faster.

"And I grab your tie, walking you back to your desk. I make you sit down." The thought of touching him excites you all over again, and you circle a nipple with one finger. "I kneel between your thighs and unzip your pants. Your dick is so hard it’s leaking pre-cum through your underwear." God, you’re desperate to taste it. You tell him that, too.

"Keep going," he orders, his voice strained.

You do. "I lick the fabric, but it’s not enough. I grab your cock and bring it to my lips. God, you’re fucking delicious. I rub the head all over my lips, needing to taste more of your cum." Shamefully, you mean every word.

"I’m so close, Princess," he groans, his pace quickening. "Just a little more."

"I take you into my wet, warm mouth. You’re so big and hard I can barely fit my lips around you. I hollow my cheeks and suck like I would a lollipop, my tongue stroking underneath your shaft. I can feel you getting close because you start pulsing in my mouth. I go faster, wanting to feel you spill down my throat."

He finally releases with a harsh moan. "Damn, Princess."

You blurt out your name correcting him before you can stop yourself.

He’s still catching his breath. "What was that?"

You repeat your name, unsure if this is a good idea but knowing it’s too late to turn back. "It’s my name."

He repeats it smoothly, the name rolling off his tongue. "Pretty name for a pretty girl."

You scoff, rolling your eyes to stop yourself from smiling. "You don’t know if I’m pretty or not."

"I don’t have to see you to know you’re beautiful."

His words touch you, but you doubt he’s worked all this out after just two phone calls. You humor him anyway. "That’s sweet of you to say."

"I better get going. Gotta get up for work in the morning," he says with a genuine yawn.

"Oh?" you ask, curiosity piqued. "What do you do?"

"I’m a fireman."

Your eyes widen, and you instantly regret asking. Now you’ll be up all night fantasizing about him in uniform. "Oh god, that’s sexy," you blurt out.

"I’m glad you think so," he chuckles. "Maybe we can work it into our role-play tomorrow?"

"That’s a fantastic idea," you agree eagerly.

"All right," he laughs. "Seriously, I gotta go. Sweet dreams princess."

"Yeah," you reply, already looking forward to the next conversation. "You too, Joel."

__________________

"Tell me how big you are," you demand lightly, still tingling blissfully from your orgasm. You finally remove your hand from between your legs and use your damp fingers to trace circles around your hard nipples.

Joel laughs, the sound a mixture of arousal and embarrassment. "It's probably going to sound like I'm bullshitting, but... seven and a half inches."

You decide to believe him. Sure, he could very well be lying—lots of guys do. Practically every man you talk to claims to have a big dick. It’s all part of the fantasy. But Joel feels different. "Wow... that's huge."

Your body responds instinctively, a clench of anticipation as you imagine how full he could make you feel.

"Yeah... well, I've had no complaints," he says, sounding both bashful and proud.

"You sure?" you tease. "I bet there have been a few comments about you being too big or going too deep."

He laughs again. "When I was younger, yeah, but I learned pretty quickly that every woman is different. I like to get a feel for her using my fingers first, see how much she can handle."

You can’t help it; a vivid image of his fingers working you over, his muscular arm straining against your thigh as he tests your limits, flashes in your mind. Jesus, you could come again just from that thought. You stumble out a response. "Oh, I, uh... yeah, that’s good of you."

"Only fair. They're lettin' me have sex with them, least I can do is make sure they damn well enjoy it."

What a gentleman, you think. How many men actually care if a woman is enjoying herself? In your experience, they get off without a second thought for you.

"I wish more men were like you," you tell him honestly.

"Well... I wish more women were like you."

That catches you off guard. "Really? In what way?"

"I don’t know... you’re just so open. Sexually, I mean. You’re not afraid to tell me what you like. You’ve got a great laugh, too. And you’re so damn easy to talk to. I feel like I could tell you everything."

The words make your heart flutter. Compliments from clients are nothing new, but they usually run along the lines of, "You’re so good at talking dirty," or, "You made me come so hard." None of them are as sweet or genuine as what Joel just said.

And none of them make you think about how easily you could fall for him.

As soon as the thought enters your mind, you push it away. How ridiculous. There’s no way you should be falling for a man you’ve never met. You don’t even know what he looks like. Having a crush is one thing, but love? God, I’m turning into one of those women who fall for anyone just because they say the right things.

And the saddest part? You’re pretty sure Joel isn’t even trying.

"Princess? You still there?"

His voice pulls you from your spiral. You don’t know how long you’ve been silent, but the realization is both embarrassing and unprofessional. You’re wasting his time—and his money.

"Sorry, Joel," you apologize. "I totally zoned out. I -I’ll refund you for the call."

"Don’t worry about that," he says quickly. "Please, be honest with me. Did I make you uncomfortable? I didn’t mean to overstep—"

Oh, god, he’s so sweet. You cut him off. "No, no! I swear, you didn’t. I was just... surprised, that’s all," you reassure him. "I really appreciate it. And... I feel the same way." You bite your lip. You hadn’t meant to reveal so much, but the words tumble out before you can stop them. "I feel like... I’ve known you forever."

"I’m glad," he says, relief evident in his tone. "Was worried I’d freaked you out."

"Not at all," you reply with a soft smile.

The conversation settles into a comfortable silence. The reality of your situation dawns on you: You’re discussing feelings—real feelings—with a client. A man you’ve never met. You don’t know his last name. It’s been, what, a week?

But you want to know him. Desperately. Maybe you’re crazy. Maybe you’re just lonely. Or maybe you need something deeper than the physical connection you’re used to.

The sound of a beeping line breaks the moment. "Damn it," Joel curses. "They need me at work. I’ve got to go."

Immediately, you feel a pang of guilt. He didn’t even get to finish. "Listen," you say impulsively, "I’m going to text you my personal number, okay? When you have a chance, call me, and we’ll finish what we started."

There’s a pause. "Wow," he says finally. "That would be amazing. I could text you throughout the day, too... only if you want, of course. Don’t wanna cross any boundaries."

If anything, it's you crossing boundaries. “I’d love that." You respond honestly, your heart fluttering and a fuzzy feeling settles in your belly. You really like him, don't you? Crap.

He chuckles, and you can almost hear his grin. "Good."

—-------‐

How'd the baking go? You still alive?

You breathe out a laugh as you open and read Joel's text. It's been about a week since you gave him your number, and you haven't regretted it for a second.

Like shit, I can't have cooked it long enough because it was still gooey in the middle. But we're all still alive...for now.

You send the text before glancing over at the modeling shoot, which is now where your living room used to be. White material hangs from metal frames, creating a backdrop for the pictures. Standing lights are positioned opposite. The photographer your mom hired is here, and your house is his studio.

Elliot is currently looking through the outfits he and your mom spent all of yesterday shopping for, now hung from a clothes rail. Some of them are latex and kinky as hell, others flimsy and revealing.

Your mom is busy pulling on a gray mini skirt. She’s already wearing stockings, a white, revealing blouse, and a tight gray blazer that cuts off at the elbows. You know she has a pair of glasses to complete her sexy secretary look. All she needs is a messy updo, and she’ll be ready to go.

You have to admit, the fake breasts she bought five years ago look fantastic in that shirt. You’re almost jealous. They look better than yours.

Elliot, meanwhile, is shirtless, with a pair of leather pants covering his bottom half. He looks amazing. His hair is messy, like he just had sex, and he’s debating with your mom whether or not he should use some eyeliner to make himself look darker and more mysterious.

You remain firm in your decision to stay out of the photo shoot. Even though you wouldn’t have to be naked, the idea doesn’t sit well with you. People could recognize you—friends from school, old work colleagues, or that bitch who stole your favorite hair clip in swimming class when you were a teen. The thought of any of them knowing—or worse, judging—what you do for a living makes you die a little inside, even though you know in your heart it’s nothing to be ashamed of. You’re just too sensitive, you guess.

Your phone vibrates in your hand, signaling an incoming text, and you glance down at the screen, your attention no longer on the shoot. It’s Joel again.

Ah... remind me to do all the baking if I ever work up the courage to ask you out.

Your lips part in shock before they curve slowly. He wants to ask you out? Wow… you trap your bottom lip between your teeth as you type your response.

Deal. You finding that courage any time soon?

You hesitate, then press send before locking your phone and leaning your elbows on the counter in front of you. Your eyes follow your mother’s movements as she practices poses in front of a large, stand-up mirror. You’re on kitchen duty since you’re neither a model nor a photographer, which means it’s your job to keep their coffee topped up.

“What do you think?” Elliot asks, his question floating to no one in particular as he studies himself in a small pocket-sized mirror. A black eyeliner pencil sits in his other hand.

You tilt your head, examining his eyes. One is framed in sharp black, while the other remains untouched. “Go with the eyeliner,” you say after a moment. “It matches your leather look.” You gesture toward his trousers.

Without looking up, Elliot starts lining his other eye. “Thanks, babe.”

You curl your lips in a faint reply, even though he can’t see it. Your phone buzzes again, and you quickly check the message on the screen.

I'm working on it ;)

Good. I'm looking forward to it ;)

You bite your lip, trying to hide your excitement. You don’t want your mom catching onto your texts; without a doubt, she’d know you’re talking to a guy. Then she’d question you until you gave up the goods.

A ping behind you sounds, reminding you that you were in the process of making another round of coffee. Slipping your phone into your pocket, you decide you’d better get the coffee addicts their fix.

The photo shoot ends up being a success—not that you were expecting anything different. They could have been real models, and it makes you wonder why they didn’t pursue a career in it. They’re honestly naturals.

And oh my god, your mom—you’re laughing now—manages to get a date with the photographer. He has to be about ten years younger than her. Not that it stops him, of course. You and Elliot can’t help but exchange glances and giggle knowingly when it’s your mom’s turn to be photographed. The poor guy can’t take his eyes off her.

You hope it goes well, of course, but you doubt he’ll end up being anything more than a fling. Your mom just isn’t one to settle down. Not since your dad walked out when you were a baby and left her with a broken heart. You think she lost her faith in men after that.

Not that your experience with men is much better. Your ex was an asshole who killed your confidence and then cheated on you with someone you had considered your best friend at the time. Pretty clichéd, you know. But unlike your mom, you still have hope that a Prince Charming will come along and sweep you off your feet.

And just maybe, that Prince could be Joel.

Yes, okay, it was still early days to be thinking like that but sometimes...you just know, you know? There’s a fluttering in your stomach—a warmth, a feeling of pure happiness, safety, and understanding. It’s not the same as those first-date butterflies you had with your ex, when everything was exciting and new. No, this is something different, something deeper. You can’t quite explain how—it just is.

"Hey, you’ve got a package down here!" Elliot sing-songs from downstairs, pulling you out of your thoughts.

A package? What could it—Oh! You remember the top you ordered online and let out an excited squeal. Quickly, you step out of the shower. You were finished in there anyway.

"Coming!" you call down to Elliot, quickly drying yourself off and slipping into your plain black bra and underwear. You rub the towel through your hair, barely giving a thought to your state of undress as you head downstairs. Elliot wouldn’t care, anyway.

As you step into the room, Elliot whistles from the sofa, his legs tucked underneath him and one arm draped along the back. “Looking hot, girl!” he teases, flashing you a playful grin.

“Thanks, babe.” You lean over the back of the sofa and snag the package from his lap. Tearing open the grey plastic bag, you start digging through it eagerly.

“What’d you get?” Elliot asks, his curiosity piqued.

“Remember that top I showed you and Julie? The white one with ‘This Bitch Bites!’ written on the front?” Your fingers brush soft material, and you pull it free with a triumphant grin. Tossing the plastic to the floor, you hold the top up to admire it.

Elliot throws his head back in laughter. “You didn’t!”

“Oh, I did.” You flip the shirt around, showing it off with a dramatic flourish.

Elliot gasps as if it’s the most magnificent thing he’s ever seen. “I fucking love it! Do they have it in my size?” He reaches out to pinch the fabric between his fingers, giving it an approving nod. “Ooh, I like the material, too.”

“Yeah, I think so,” you say, gathering the shirt in your hands and pulling it over your head. You smooth it down and strike a pose, hands on your hips. “What do you think?”

"Your boobs look awesome in that." Elliot nods approvingly. "Oh! Gimme your phone. I'll take a pic, and you can send it to Julie. I bet she'll wanna see it." He holds out his hand, wiggling his fingers expectantly.

You instinctively reach for your pockets, but your fingers brush against bare skin, reminding you that your clothes—and your phone—are upstairs. "I'll go get it," you say, heading off.

After sending the picture, you grab a quick snack before making your way back upstairs. Your hair is still damp from the shower, and you know you need to dry it before it starts frizzing.

You sit at your dresser, plug in your hair dryer, and get ready to turn it on when your phone vibrates with an incoming message. Setting the dryer down, you pick up your phone to check the text.

Damn, I hope she does, was the response, leaving you confused.

Julie doesn’t text like that. You know how she is—always shortening her words until they’re barely readable, leaving you and Elliot to figure out what she actually means. And commas? Forget it. She probably doesn’t even know what one is.

You scrunch your nose, confused, your thumb hovering over the screen to text her back when another message pops up. This time, it’s from Joel.

You're fucking beautiful, by the way.

Okay, so that’s kind of creepy. How the fuck does he know what you look like? That’s when it hits you— the previous text was from Joel, not Julie like you’d assumed.

“Oh no…” you breathe, your fingers scrambling to scroll up through the conversation. And there it is. The picture Elliot took of you. You, wearing nothing but your white this bitch bites! shirt and black panties, your chest pushed forward so the writing stretches smooth across the fabric. And that picture? It’s been sent to Joel. Not Julie.

You growl out loud, “I’m going to kill Elliot,” your heart pounds like crazy. You spring to your feet, panic surging through you as you pace back and forth, trying to form a coherent thought. Did he do it on purpose? No, surely he wouldn’t—okay, yeah, he probably would. You groan loudly, covering your face with your hands before falling backward onto the bed. You land with a bounce.

And just when you think it couldn’t possibly get any worse, the realization hits you. “I’m not even wearing makeup, Elliot!” you shout, your voice full of despair.

You know you should respond to Joel, but you're way too busy freaking the hell out.

He knows what you look like. That’s bad. So very bad. Why exactly it’s bad, you’re not sure. But the black hole churning in your stomach insists it is.

He thinks you’re beautiful, a calmer part of your mind whispers blissfully. Without makeup. That part makes you ridiculously happy. But it’s still bad…right?

Gnawing on your bottom lip, you try to think clearly. So what if he knows what you look like? It’s not like he can track you down with just an image. Sure, okay, he also knows your first name, but you don’t even have social media. Good luck with that, buddy!

...Really? Come on.

You shake your head at yourself. You know Joel wouldn’t do anything like that. You’re just freaking out and thinking irrationally. He’s a good guy, and you trust him. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t have given him your real number.

Breathing in deeply, you lift your phone to your face and read his messages again.

Damn, I hope she does.

You're fucking beautiful, by the way.

This time, you allow yourself to smile, embracing the warmth that fills your stomach at his words. He’s so sweet, with just the right amount of dirty. He hopes you’re a biter... Naughty pictures flood your mind, and you squeeze your thighs together. You’d be a biter for him any day.

Your thumbs hover over the touch-screen keyboard as you consider what to respond to him. Deciding that honesty is the best policy, you go with:

Sorry about that! It was meant for my girl friend but my other friend is a total dick. I don't make a habit of sending half-naked pics to guys. I'm glad you like it though :)

A thought pops into your head, and you quickly type:

Since you've got a pic of me...maybe you'll be open to sharing one of you?

You nibble at your fingernail as you wait for his response. You hope you didn't make him uncomfortable by asking for a picture, but you honestly do want one of him. You're curious about what he could look like. You have an image of him in your head, but you dare say it wouldn't look anything like him. A few seconds later, you get a reply.

Ah, that makes sense. I did think it was a bit odd since you never mentioned anything about us exchanging pictures. I'm glad it happened, though. Maybe I should be thanking your friend ;)

Your lips curl as you get ready to send him a response when another text comes through.

Sure, you can have one of me as long as you'll excuse my appearance. It's It’s been a rough day at work, and I haven’t had a chance to shower yet.

Again, you start typing your reply, your heart jumping into your throat at the thought of finally seeing his face when yet another text comes through. But this time, it isn’t words; it’s a picture. The picture you’ve been waiting for.

Your lips part and your heart falls back into your chest, doing a funny little dance. A slow breath escapes you as you can't tear your eyes away from the selfie he sent you.

Gorgeous doesn't even begin to describe him. whiskey-colored eyes, lips so full it almost looks like he's pouting. A day or two's worth of stubble covers his lower face.

He looks tired but still manages a small, lopsided smile for you. His hair is a mess as if he's spent a good portion of the day running his fingers through it. Full lips and dark eyes. The picture is taken directly in front, and you can see his large Adam’s apple and broad shoulders. His shirt, from what you can make out, is completely white.

“Oh my god,” you mutter in astonishment. Honestly… the guy looks like a model. You find it hard to believe someone like him needs a sex operator to get off. He must have women falling all over him. He's a firefighter for fuck’s sake. It's like every girl’s wet dream.

It makes you wonder if he's telling the truth, or if he's been lying all along and knows exactly how to draw a girl in.

Worried and paranoid, you bite your bottom lip and finally text him back.

Is that really you? Or are you screwing with me?

His reply doesn't come in the shape of a text. Instead, you get a notification about an incoming video call.

Your eyes widen, and your first instinct is to reject it. Having just gotten out of the shower, your hair is wet, and your face is make-up-free. You don’t want him to see you this way, but then you remember that he’s already seen the picture you—well, Elliot—sent him. So, you accept it. It can’t have put him off that much since he's still talking to you.

It takes a moment for the call to connect, and you bite your lip harder.

And then there he is, looking just like he did in his photo. This proves that he'd definitely just taken it moments before, and it was definitely him. You feel guilty for doubting him.

"Wow." His full lips twist into a big smile. "Hey there, beautiful."

Your butterflies return with a vengeance, and you grin back so hard your cheeks hurt. "Hey, handsome." You know your face is burning but you don't even care. You're nervous and aren't afraid to admit it. This is a big step for both of you. Who wouldn't have some kind of nerves? The hand holding your phone up shakes slightly.

He chuckles, rubbing his fingers over his lips. "I can't believe I'm actually looking at you. It's crazy. You're so gorgeous. You're perfect."

Your entire body buzzes at his words, warmth filling you. "Coming from you? You're so fucking sexy I thought you'd sent me a fake picture!"

You both laugh, the sound full of excitement, anxiety, and amazement. "No, no. I would never do that. I'm glad you approve though, I was worried I wouldn't be your type."

You splutter, "Dude...you have to be everyone's type." The nervous laughter continues. Neither of you really knows what to say or how to react, but you can't stop looking at each other with goofy expressions. "How was your day?" you finally decide to ask, figuring that maybe a more casual conversation might help you both get over the shock.

"My day?" He was grinning still, shaking his head. "My day...this has got to be the best day of my damned life."

It’s so sweet you could almost cry. Almost sobbing with tears in your eyes, you respond, “I know the feeling.”

You’re both too overwhelmed to have a normal conversation. You stay on the phone for hours, mostly admiring each other, smiling like idiots, and commenting on your disbelief of the situation. You’re in awe of each other, that much is obvious. Time quickly flies by, and you notice Joel starts to grow more tired by the second.

"Why don’t you get some sleep?" you suggest softly, one hand tucked under your cheek as you lay on your side, snuggled up underneath your duvet. You continue to hold the phone in front of you.

He groans and rubs his eye with his knuckles. It’s adorable to see. "I should...I really, really should." His hand drops, and he focuses on the phone, flashing you a sleepy smile. "But that means hanging up...and I don’t think I’m ready to leave you yet."

You giggle quietly, feeling genuinely happy. "I know the feeling," you say. "But it's getting late, and you have work in the morning. I promise we'll talk again tomorrow night. Plus, I'll be texting you all day, you know that."

He chuckles. "Damn, I just can't get rid of you, can I?" He teases.

"Nope." You pop the 'p', grinning back. "You're stuck with me now."

He sighs dramatically. "What have I gotten myself into?" You both laugh once more. "I'm joking, of course. Who'd wanna get rid of a gorgeous girl like you?"

You hide your face in your shoulder. "Stop, you'll make me go all giddy," you warn him, half serious.

He grins. "That's not gonna make me stop, princess. You're too cute when you're all giddy."

"Oh, Joel ," you sigh lovingly before you realize what you're doing. You can't help it though. He makes you feel so good. So joyful. You can't ever remember having this feeling. It’s as if you're on top of the world.

"Darlin," he purrs back, and your belly flutters. You fall into a small silence, and for a moment, just smile at each other. It’s actually pretty cheesy.

"We should go," you whisper reluctantly.

He nods. "Yeah, you're probably right."

"Good night, handsome." Moving the hand tucked under your cheek to your mouth, you blow him a kiss.

He chuckles and acts as if he grabs it before placing it onto his lips and blowing one back to you. "Goodnight, pretty girl."

Taglist: @pedrito-is-punk7 @bitchytimetravelqueen @wh0reforbucknasty @joelsrose @justajoelsreader

@guelyury @bbyanarchist @untamedheart81 @ro-nahime-things @peepawispunk

#joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fanfiction

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bloatedandalone04 · 1 month ago

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Ugly (Matching) Christmas Sweaters

➪the one where you and drew throw a christmas party, complete with matching sweaters, and as the night goes on, the two of you manage to sneak away from the madness to indulge in a private party of your own.

Warnings: swearing, fluff, smut, unprotected sex, dirty talk, semi-public sex ig, you and drew being that couple, it is never too late for a christmas fic, right?

Word Count: 2.5k

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

Ever since you and Drew got together, a whole three years ago, Christmas parties became a yearly thing.

Every December for the past two years, since you moved in together, your house was opened up to both yours and Drew’s family and friends, and you hosted a party to celebrate Christmas; one that included games, drinking, and music. This year was no exception.

Well, except for the fact that you made this year’s party a little different. It was an ugly Christmas sweater party, with all the booze and games and music the last party had, but with the addition of showing up in a colorful, hideous sweater.

Of course, you and Drew were matching, with your sweater being bright red and his being bright green. On the back of yours, it read ‘Starkey’ in big, white letters, and on the back of his, it read your last name in the same font, and you both were kinda obsessed with them, even if they made you both look like something straight out of a circus.

The best part was what it said on the front, though. On yours, it said, ‘I’m so nice, I made Santa come twice’, and on his, it simply read, ‘Santa’.

Oh yeah, you were that couple.

The house was packed with both yours and Drew’s families and friends, with Christmas music softly playing from the TV speakers. The string lights you made him put up everywhere were making the rooms flash with a multitude of different colors, and almost everyone here was on their second drink as the stress of the upcoming holiday weighed down on their shoulders.

But Drew wasn’t stressed at all as he leaned back against the wall beside the fireplace, careful to not set his sweater on fire as he sipped on a beer. Rudy was on the couch a few feet away, going on about something that happened this morning, and Drew was listening for the most part.

Then you walked into the living room, and his eyes landed on you almost immediately. You were talking to Madelyn, and Drew leaned more against the wall as he subtly watched you.

When you turned your head and looked at him, he smirked, no longer listening to Rudy as he crossed his arms and sipped his beer. You smiled back, lifting your hand up in a quick wave of your fingers as Madelyn went on about her inability to shop for Christmas without stressing herself into an early grave.

Your gaze was soft as you looked over at him, your eyes full of love and adoration as you blew him a couple kisses before turning back to Madelyn and giving her a hug before she walked away.

Drew let out a quiet laugh, feeling his heart swell a bit in his chest. You looked so cute. Your sweater looked ridiculously hot on you, and he knew he’d feel this way about you for the rest of his life.

When you looked over at him again, he subtly nodded towards the hallway that leads to the bedrooms, and he hoped you understood the silent invitation. He needed a break, even if it was a brief one, and he needed to be near you. He wanted to pull you into his arms and lose himself in your additive perfume and warm body, because this was his and your house, and he had barely seen you tonight.

You raised a brow, clearly getting the hint like he hoped you would, and you pressed your lips together as you tugged your sweater down a bit before making your way through the slightly crowded living room towards the hallway.

As soon as you disappeared down the hall, Drew stood up straight and followed after you, tossing his empty bottle into one of the recycling bins you placed around the house as he went. He found you leaning against the wall by the guest room, a teasing grin on your face as you looked over at him, and Drew’s eyes roamed over your figure as he stepped towards you.

“Need a break from the madness too?” he asked, his voice low in the empty hallway as he moved closer and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you right up against his body. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, his lips brushing against your skin as one of his hands slid down to grope your ass, and he gave it a gentle squeeze. “I missed you.”

You laughed quietly, your hands finding home in his hair as you bit your lip. “You missed me?” you questioned, gently massaging his scalp with your fingers as you leaned in and pressed your cheek against his shoulder. You closed your eyes as you inhaled his intoxicating scent, the one that was uniquely his, and the one you loved so much. “You live with me, how could you possibly miss me?”

Drew laughed too, the deep sound vibrating against your cheek. “That’s true, but you know I miss you all the time,” he murmured, his lips trailing kisses along your jawline as his hands roamed all over your body. “You’re always on my mind, baby.”

“Yeah?” you whispered softly as he touched you all over, and your fingers tightened in his hair as you leaned against him. “You’re always on my mind too.” you said back, glancing to your left as the party continued on just down the hall.

Drew’s big hands found your backside again, and he pulled you against him a bit harder. “We don’t have to go back,” he said, his voice deep and dripping with invitation and temptation. “We can have our own party, just the two of us.”

You leaned back against the wall, looking up at him with wide, unguarded eyes, and he held back a groan as he slipped his leg between yours, pushing them apart slightly as he ground his thigh against your core.

He kissed you deeply, his tongue sliding along the seam of your mouth before brushing against yours. He kissed you like a man starved, like he’d been deprived of you for way too long for his liking, and the soft sounds you were making against his lips only made him want you more. “Tell me to stop and I will,” he muttered when he broke the kiss and pulled away, resting his forehead against yours.

You grinned, glancing down towards the end of the hallway again before looking up at him with a subtle smirk. “Has that word ever left my mouth when it comes to you?” you asked, taking his hands in yours as you tugged him further down the hall towards yours and his bedroom. “If I ever say no to you, something is seriously wrong.”

Drew smirked as you pulled him along, and he kicked the bedroom door shut behind him once you both were inside, effectively drowning out any noise from the party. “Good to know,” he mumbled, his eyes dark with lust as he leaned down and lifted you up onto the edge of the bed. He stepped between your spread legs, his big hands gripping your hips as he pulled you even closer.

Leaning down, he pressed his lips to yours in a hungry kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth as he ground his hips against yours. The rough denim of his jeans rubbed against your thin leggings, creating a delicious friction that had both of you moaning into each other’s mouths.

“Baby,” you mumbled, your hands reaching up to grip his sweater. You fisted the green fabric tightly, the friction of his jean clad hips against yours making your head feel fuzzy. “We need to be quick. We’re hosting right now. Our house is literally full of people…and are we really about to fuck while wearing these fucking ugly sweaters?”

Drew laughed against your lips, his hands sliding under the red fabric that covered your top half to caress the warm skin of your back. “Oh, I’m not against taking off a few layers,” he murmured, his hands moving down to the waistline of your leggings. “But if we’re in a hurry, maybe we should focus on the parts that matter the most.”

He tugged the black material down your legs, along with your damp panties, and tossed them aside carelessly, his attention solely focused on you and the way you always responded to him. Drew leaned back slightly, taking in the sight of your bare lower half with needy eyes as he bit his lip.

“Fuck, you’re so gorgeous,” he breathed, his voice thick with desire and lust as he ran his hands up and down your thighs.

A blush took over your face as you shifted higher up on the bed, already so turned on for him. “You’re only saying that because I’m wearing your name on my back,” you teased, running your toes up his denim covered thighs as your gaze lingered on the way his cock was straining against his jeans.

A smug grin took over his face as he glanced down at your sweater. “Maybe. But it doesn’t change the fact that you’re the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” he rasped, settling between your thighs as he began to pepper kisses along your collarbone and neck.

When you reached out and palmed him through his jeans, Drew groaned against your skin before he pulled down his zipper and freed his throbbing cock. He notched the tip against your entrance, teasing you with shallow thrusts as he leaned down to kiss you, and he reveled in the sweet sounds you were making for him.

He pulled back to look down at you as he slowly pushed into you, a low groan escaping his throat as he felt your tight walls clench around him. “You always feel so damn good, baby,” he grunted, his voice strained a bit as he paused for a few seconds to let you adjust.

Then he started moving, setting a deep, relentless pace that had your back arching off the bed. You were so wet and warm, and he was so big and hard, the two of you fit so perfectly together. Nothing had ever felt better.

You were moaning loudly as one of his hands slid down to grope your ass, his fingers digging into your soft skin as he used his grip to guide your hips against his. “Oh fuck,” you breathed out, your forehead pressed against his as he fucked into you. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he slid in and out of your wet warmth easily, his cock reaching deeper with every thrust. “Fuck yes, Drew.” you whined, your fingers fisting his sweater tightly as you tried to keep your voice down a bit, unwilling to be louder than the Christmas music that was playing in the living room.

The bed was creaking softly, his deep, fast thrusts making your body slide further up the mattress. Drew wrapped his arm around you, holding you tightly against him as he dropped his head onto your shoulder. “God, you’re so tight,” he grunted next to your ear, pulling out nearly all the way before burying himself back inside you. “Feel so good, baby.”

His hands were everywhere, squeezing and kneading any part of you he could as he fucked you into the bed with increasing speed. You were getting louder, and Drew loved it, and while he didn’t care if you and he were heard, he knew you did.

So he leaned down and kissed you deeply as he continued to rock in and out of you. You kissed him back just as desperately and messily, your tongue brushing against his as his hips hit yours over and over again.

“Oh, my fucking God, Drew,” you moaned against his lips, releasing his shirt to reach up and pull on his hair as you arched your back even more and hiked your legs up higher around his waist. “So good…”

He broke the kiss and trailed his lips down your neck, nipping and sucking at the skin peeking out from under your sweater that said his fucking last name on it, his hands gripping your hips tightly. “I know, baby,” he groaned, pressing his forehead against your shoulder again as he felt you clench tightly around him. “Fuck…I know.”

Drew reached down and rubbed messy circles onto your clit, making your body shake a bit as you clung onto his hair. “Oh fuck,” you gasped, your heels digging into his lower back as you squeezed your eyes shut. “Drew…”

He grunted, sucking a mark onto the side of your neck as he let out heavy and harsh pants. “Cum for me, baby,” he rasped, fucking into you harder as he rubbed your clit more firmly. “Fucking cum for me.”

You cried out, your eyes rolling back as you clung onto him desperately. “Drew…oh fuck, fuck,” you moaned, tugging on his hair and making it a mess. “I’m gonna cum…baby, fuck.” you whimpered, and a few seconds later you came hard around him.

“That’s it, baby, cum for me,” he cooed, wrapping his arms around your body as he fucked into you a few more times before he was there too. With a deep grunt, he came deep inside of you, burying his face against the side of your neck to muffle his sounds as he filled you up.

He stilled then collapsed on top of you, cradling your trembling body against his own as he stayed buried inside of you. After a few more seconds of silence, the only sounds being your shared pants, Drew lifted his head and grinned at you.

“Look at us,” he mumbled as he looked down at where you and he were connected. “Best view in the house.”

His fingers stroked your cheek, his thumb running along the curve of your jawline as he slowly pulled out of you, a trail of white dripping out to coat your inner thighs. He rolled onto his side, pulling you close to him as he smoothed out your sweater.

“I love you, babe,” he whispered, pressing his cheek against the top of your head as his breathing finally evened out.

You sighed quietly, a content smile on your face as you snuggled against him. “I love you too,” you mumbled, nuzzling against his chest. “And you look really hot in an ugly Christmas sweater, by the way. One of your best looks by far.”

Drew laughed, his chest vibrating against your ear. “Well thanks, baby. I think this might be the first time an ugly sweater has gotten me laid,” he said and you laughed as he ran his hands up and down your back. “We should clean up and get back to the party…right?”

You grinned and nodded, sitting up a bit as you felt his warmth that was still coating your thighs. “Right,” you agreed, but your voice wasn’t convincing at all, much like his wasn’t either. “And maybe, once they all leave, we’ll see if I can live up to what it says on my shirt.”

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prettiedup · 8 months ago

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prettiest thing cont ❀˖°

pls do excuse any typos !

you would’ve stopped her, honestly. if it wasn’t for her moving at the speed of light and practically teleporting in front of him. you could only watch with wide eyes as your cousin, who’s just as short as you, lifts her hand and punches onyankopon right in his jaw.

a series of gasps escapes not only your throat but others also. you can’t tell if someone paused the music or if you just managed to tune the music out due to shock. your feet feel planted to the ground, you don’t know if you should hold back your cousin or check on him. your ears ring as she begins to swing her arms wildly.

“yo, zi, chill!” someone screams. instantly, people are trying to pull the two apart. more so, zinnia away from ony.

ony isn’t exactly fighting back if anything he’s trying to grab her wrists to detain her.

as the scene unfolded, you felt your chest tighten, and your breathing became short. the room seemed to spin around you, and the voices of your friends and strangers became distant echoes. panic surged through your veins like a tidal wave, threatening to engulf you in its overwhelming grip.

there’s so much going on, you feel sick. the urge to throw up courses through your body.

you clutch at your chest, trying to slow your racing heart, but it only seemed to beat faster. your thoughts spiral out of control, a mixture of fear and uncertainty. you struggle to make sense of what was happening, but the panic consumes you, clouding your mind with irrational thoughts.

then, in a moment of clarity, you recognize the familiar signs. this wasn't just nerves or stress—it was a full-blown panic attack. the realization hit you like a ton of bricks, sending a fresh wave of terror coursing through your veins.

the panic was relentless, its grip tightening with each passing moment. tears stung your eyes as you struggle to hold back the rising tide of emotion.

“yo itty bitty’s trippin’!” someone screams. you feel woozy and uncertain on your feet. everyone is packed so tightly, there’s barely any room to just breathe. you struggle to make sense of anything.

everyone froze in their spots when a sudden series of three shots rung through the air. for a moment no one in the house moved until one girl let out a gruesome scream and bolted towards the front door. and like the domino effect, everyone began rushing towards exits. panic ignites like wildfire, spreading through the room in a frenzy of desperate flight. you couldn’t find zinnia or sasha, not even ony. your legs struggle to keep up with the rapid running and rushing. Panic ignites like wildfire, spreading through the room in a frenzy of desperate flight. you close your eyes and just move with the crowd.

the night air gushes against your face the second you get outside. desperately, your lungs begin sucking in the much-needed air. you’re stumbling around, trying to find your cousin, a friend, an acquaintance, anything.

as you struggle to look around outside, you’re suddenly pushed onto the ground by a strong force. a deafening scream escapes your throat as you fall face first onto the ground. you instantly ball up into a ball and begin sobbing. you regret coming, you should’ve just told zinnia no and stood on that. your face is both burning and aching, you can’t think clearly, and you’re still trying to recover from a panic attack. you began pleading for any god that’s listening to you to give you the strength to get up and walk, but it feels impossible to do so.

you don’t know if seconds or minutes pass but suddenly you’re picked up into strong arms. you continue to squeeze your eyes shut, you refuse to open your eyes and accept that what was happening is your current reality. you try to fight out of the person’s arms, hitting whatever you can.

“chill, mama. ‘s me. it’s your ony.” instantly your eyes are snapping open and you’re looking at the familiar brown eyes you fell in love with. his chocolate brown eyes are laced with concern. “fuck, we needa go.” you can’t tell if he’s talking to you or himself.

a heartfelt sob spews from deep in your chest. it’s so loud and powerful that it makes even ony stumble a bit.

he begins walking, he never once loosens his grip around your body. he speeds walk you to his car, looking behind his direction every other second. truthfully, he’s not worried about his own safety. he wishes someone would pull out a gun on him. it’s your safety he’s stressing about. even though he can try with all of his might to protect you, life is spontaneous, and he doesn’t know what could happen in the next few seconds.

he sets you down in the passenger seat, he would’ve usually made sure you were all the way strapped in your seatbelt but with the uncertainty that you were safe he just closes the door and makes a straight line to the driver’s side. he doesn’t waste time pulling his car away from the house, he speeds down the street, going way over the speed limit.

you’re still crying, with your face burning, you’re hesitant to look at yourself in the mirror. your shaky hand reaches for the mirror but ony quickly stops you by grabbing your hand and mixing his fingers with yours.

“stop. just chill. we’ll worry about that when we get to the crib.” he tells you. his voice is steady, and he hardly looks affected by being punched.

you look down at your entwined hands with widened eyes. it’s been days since you felt any sense of affection from him and it all feels foreign in a way. you don’t know if you want to push his hand off of yours or welcome it with relieved tears.

“jus’ keep breathin’ for me. ‘mma get you straight.” he promises.

you don’t say anything. you plop your head against the headrest. you feel utterly exhausted. along with exhaustion, you feel guilt. you know you’re safe with ony but you have no idea where sasha or zinnia is.

the realization knocks the wind out of your chest, and you perk up instantly.

“i don’t know where they are.” your voice is hoarse.

ony doesn’t need you to clarify who you’re talking about because he already knows. “they’re safe.” he tells you simply.

“how am i supposed to know that?” you snap back.

ony squints his eyes at your attitude. he doesn’t comment on it nor does he respond back to you. the two of you weren’t exactly on good terms and with what just happened he knows you’re talking with emotion and not logic.

even while snapping at him, you don’t let his hand go. if anything, you squeeze it a little tighter as you try to calm your nerves.

minutes later, he’s pulling up to his apartment complex.

“i wanna go home, not here.” you tell him stubbornly.

“your face is fucked up, you really wanna scare your momma by coming home all bloody?” he asks sarcastically. dropping your hand from his. “‘m not gonna touch you. i jus’ wanna make sure your mental is alright.” he tells you before turning his car off and opening the driver’s door.

he helps you out of his car. he makes sure you can actually walk and not stumble. he makes quick work of guiding you through the lobby and into the elevator. you two ignore the worried look the receptionist gives you two. while not knowing the backstory, it does look fucked up from an outside perspective. the two of you are deathly silent as you stand beside each other. there’s a look of irritation on your face while ony looks like he’s barely concealing his stress.

you’ve been to his apartment a plethora of times, so many times that you don’t wait for him to guide you to his doorstep. you walk in front of him, making sure to stomp your feet a little. you make it to his door before he does. you stand in front of it with your arms crossed, a look of impatience is etched onto your bruised face.

while you should be thanking him for picking you up instead of leaving you to die, memories of what he’s been doing and what he’s been putting you through flutter through your mind. days prior, you had daydreamed how you were gonna approach him and apologize, and hopefully get back onto good terms with the male. it all felt good in your head but as you stand beside him you can feel nothing but hate and resentment.

your face is on fire, it still hurts to even frown. you don’t even have to look at it to know it’s bruised. it takes everything in you to not cry again.

ony finally unlocks the door, he allows you to walk in first before following you in.

it’s almost robotic, the way you step out of your shoes and place them beside onyankopon’s expensive shoes. just like you have many times before. the two of you move through his apartment in silence, a hurtful but obvious factor that things aren’t the same. just three weeks ago you were here, laughing and joking with him. just three weeks ago, this apartment was your safe place whenever your parents got too overbearing, just three weeks ago your moans were ringing throughout the rooms as he brought you to mind-buzzing orgasms over and over.

you let out a breath as memories begin hitting you like bricks. you shuffle into his living room, it looks exactly the same it did weeks ago. even down to the lego set you begged him to buy so that you two could build it together. you continue walking through the apartment, there’s no confidence in your steps like previously, only uncertainty. you walk into the bathroom and cut the lights on.

finally, you’re able to get a good look at your face. your heart skips in your chest as you observe the bruises. your entire left eye is swollen and irritated, there’s a bit of skin missing on the tip of your nose, and your lips are bruised with hues of blood still remaining. there’s some skin missing around your lips, and minor scratches littering your face in general. at the sight, you burst into tears. you took your appearance extremely serious and to see something so horrifying on your face一something everyone could see has you feeling sick.

it almost hurts to cry but you can’t stop the pity tears from escaping. what were you going to tell your parents? how could you manage walking out in public looking so bruised? you struggle to catch your breath as self deprecating thoughts flutter inside your head. you can’t stop looking at yourself. you’re almost struggling to accept that this is your face.

onyankopon rushes into the bathroom when he hears your wails. when he sees you looking at yourself he automatically sighs and reaches for you. he takes you into his arms and holds you against his chest. he lets out soft “shhs’” and “i knows’” in an attempt to calm you down. he knows you, he knows that you would have reacted this exact way the second he saw your face at the party.

“i told you to chill, mama.” his voice, devoid of any anger. it carried a tone of genuine empathy rather than resentment. it holds a warmth that seemed to embrace rather than accuse. there was softness to his words.

you can’t respond to him due to how hard you’re crying. whatever he’s saying goes in one ear and out of the other. all you can think about is the current state of your face, and the events that took place before it.

“n-need to make sure zinnia ‘s okay.” you sniffle into his shirt.

“i need you to trust me when i tell you zinnia is safe, a’ight? i watched her with my own two eyes get somewhere safe, baby.” he reassures you.

“what about sasha?”

“she’s with connie.” he responds. he keeps his voice steady and every word he says is full of certainty.

you stay quiet at his responses. knowing that your girls are okay does take a little edge off of your shoulders. your mind feels less clouded and you can breathe just a bit better, now.

he continues to hold you, not letting his grasp go. it feels good to have you in his arms again. it sucks because it’s under unfortunate circumstances, but he’d be lying if he said he hasn’t been needing this一needing you. there’s so much to discuss with you, so much to apologize about, so much to own up to. those things can wait, though. so much has happened to you and he somewhat suspects the adrenaline is still pumping through your veins just a bit.

he wants to fuss at you for coming to the party anyway, but he knows that it wasn’t your idea to come. you’re too much of an anxious person to suggest coming to a party. the likeliness of the two girls dragging you with them to the party is higher than you dragging them. he doesn’t even know if it’s his place to get on you for coming anymore. he hates knowing that you were in a circumstance that a stray bullet could have hit you, and not to mention your face connecting with the ground and bruising you. he doesn’t know if it’s a good thing or not he didn’t see the person that pushed you because he probably would have acted with emotion rather than logic at that very moment.

“let’s put somethin’ on your pretty face, mama.” he’s pulling you from his chest and guiding you to sit down on the toilet seat.

he washes his hands before squatting in front of you. the bathroom becomes silent besides your occasional sniffles. he softly rubs the cream on bruised spots on your face, you bite down on your lip as you examine his face. flawless mocha brown skin, his skin seemed to glow with an inner radiance, as if kissed by the sun itself. his fox shaped eyes, a mesmerizing shade of chocolate-like brown, held a depth that drew you in, they reflected a world of untold stories and hidden emotions. his full, pink lips, delicately glossed from the habitual swipe of his tongue. he looks like he was personally crafted, as if god took his time shaping and mapping every area of him. even just his natural resting face is fierce and attractive.

as his fingertips grazed delicately around your eye, a sudden involuntary twitch rippled through your body, a sharp intake of breath escaped your lips, along with a hiss of discomfort spilling into the air. he withdrew, his gaze flickering with concern as he studied your face intently. lines of worry furrowed his brow.

“can i continue?” he asks after a few seconds of waiting for the pained look to etch off of your face.

you nod your head and he resumes to softly apply it on your face. occasionally, you jolt or let out a soft when he touches a spot that’s still burning. once he finishes doing so, he drops his hand and just takes a moment to look at you. your eyes flutter as the two of you make eye contact. time seems to still as you two wait for the other to do something, anything.

nothing happens. he looks away a few seconds later, and stands up to walk out of the bathroom. he quickly comes back with a towel and two rags for you.

“‘mma set some clothes on you on the sink. they’ll be there before you get out.” he tells you as he turns on the shower head and adjusts it to the temperature that he knows you prefer.

he’s quick to walk out again and you’d be lying if you said a pang in your chest didn’t come to you. usually, he would have undressed the both of you and coaxed you to get into the shower with him. but that's the past, and you have to remind yourself of that.

you undress yourself and step into the shower. your eyes widen when you realize onyankopon kept all of your products inside of his shower. you blink back the tears and instead focus on washing yourself.

it’s a struggle to not think about everything that has happened to you so far. you have never felt so stressed in your life. with you and onyankopon going through an undeclared break up, zinnia punching him, you having a panic attack, and you getting pushed and bruised. you quite frankly feel you’re on the verge of going insane. it feels like bad things keep happening over and over, not giving you the time to recover from what happened previously before something else happens.

you find yourself standing within the confines of the apartment you once envisioned as a sanctuary, now transformed into a box of discomfort and unease. the air feels heavy with unresolved tension, each corner of the room echoing with the weight of unspoken words. every familiar object seems to taunt you with its silent witness to the downfall in your relationship. everything feels different and awkward and it makes you want to scream and pull out your hair. you two keep skipping over the elephant in the room instead of being adults and just discussing what happened.

you lose time on how long you stay in the shower. you scrub your body until it burns. by the time you step out, the water is no longer as hot and your fingertips have wrinkled. just as he promised, there’s clothes sitting on the sink, waiting to be used. you dry yourself off and use the lotion that he keeps on the counter.

once you’re clothed, you step out of the bathroom. you follow the sounds of shuffling and rummaging in the kitchen. ony is standing there, eating something out of a tupperware bowl. when he sees your figure coming closer to him, he looks up from his phone.

“you good?” he asks, observing your face for any signs of uncomfort.

“yeah.” you nod your head as you come closer to the island top. “‘m thirsty.” you comment.

ony is quick to move from his spot and grab a glass cup. he fills it up with cold water before handing you the glass. he watches you as you practically drink it all with three gulps. “wan’ some more?” he asks, an amused smile finds its way on his lips. when you nod your head once more he fills it up and just watches you.

you don’t finish it all like you did previously. you drink a good amount before you’re pushing the glass away. now that you're hydrated and less sweaty, it feels like you can actually think and make sense of things.

“what time is it?” you ask him.

onyankopon looks down at his screen, “12:27.” your eyes widened, you didn’t realize it had gotten so late so quickly. “you hungry?” he asks, gesturing towards his food.

“‘m okay. i wanna sleep.” you tell him. you stand there awkwardly, unsure of where to go. do you sleep on the couch? his bed? maybe he’ll even book you a room.

“i got my bed ready for you.” he goes back to eating his food.

you freeze up in your spot. you weren’t sure if you were ready to share a bed with him at the moment. too much has happened today, also you two are practically broken up. you suppose he could see the discomfort filling your body because he begins explaining his words.

“i’m sleepin’ on the couch.” he explains. “my door has a lock on it too if you feel the need to use it.”

you blink at him. once, twice, three times before you’re nodding your head at his words. “goodnight.” you say. you don’t walk away for a few seconds. you just stare at him, in total disbelief that this is how you’re treating each other now. you have so much to say as well as so much to ask. the words die quickly in your throat just as fast as they ignite.

the second your back touches the soft, black silk sheets that adorn his bed; you immediately relax. your shoulders slack and you can’t stop the little yawn from escaping your mouth.

you look over on his nightstand and you’re surprised to see your phone sitting there charging. you’re quick to pick it up. hundreds of notifications sit on your notification bar, you decide you’ll look deeper into those in the morning. you search for zinnia’s contact and when you finally find it, you press it.

the line rings for a few seconds, you assume she isn’t going to answer until it suddenly picks up.

“snookie.” she says the second it connects. you could hear the relief in her voice.

“it’s me.” you confirm. “you alright?”

“yeah. i just—i fuckin’ blacked out at that party.” she’s chuckling like it’s the most humorous thing in the world. “i bet his ass ain’t never been punched like that.”

you can’t stop the giggle from escaping your throat. zinnia has always been a wild card, especially when she thought with her emotions. that’s how she became known in your city, she was always fighting at one point in middle school and up until her junior year in high school. she had a bad habit of spazzing out whenever someone told her what to do, or when someone messed with someone she loved. while people outside of your family just saw her as a troubled instigator, you and your family knew she was an aggressive person, she’s just big on respect.

“i.. i kinda wish you didn’t punch him.” you admit. you could hear her smack her teeth through the phone. you’re sure she’s also rolling her eyes too. “i don’t want things to be bad blood between you and ony. you guys have known each other for years.”

“snookie, you’re my cousin. you’re basically lil sister. i would never put a nigga before you. and i know how the game goes, i won’t allow some random ass boy to play in your face.” she tells you. her voice is sincere. she wants so much for you. she knows you were sheltered and haven’t had much of a chance to actually spread your wings and fly without someone looking over you. she also knows how possessive ony get, it doesn’t take much to see that he has you wrapped around his finger. it bothers her in a sense. she’s afraid you’ll continue to fail to set boundaries and allow him to do as he pleases.

you bite down on your lip as you listen to her words. “i know. i just—” you’re cut off by her loudly sighing.

“just nothing. i punched that nigga in his shit and i’d do it again if i need to.”

you know how zinnia gets. instead of arguing with her or begging to change her mind, you just accept it. “i hear you.” is all you can say.

the two of you sit in silence for a few seconds. you can’t think of anything to say to keep the conversation going. after such a draining day, you just wanted to sleep for months. your mind goes back to your face, which is still aching a little. you should’ve just told zinnia no, you wished sasha didn’t call and wake up zinnia. if none of that would have happened, there wouldn’t be a wedge between zinnia and ony, and your face wouldn’t be bruised.

“where are you?” she asks.

you hesitate on your answer. she’s going to be pissed when you say your location, you can feel it. you stare at the wall ahead, trying to think of a coverup. when nothing comes to mind, you sigh in defeat.

“onyankopon’s house.” you admit.

“girl.” she practically yells into the phone. “how the hell did you get with him? how-what.. girl. i’m about to come get you.” you could shuffling in the background and the faint sound of the mattress crinkling.

“no! zinnia, no. your voice trembles with urgency, reverberating through the phone. “i’m safe. way safer with him than anywhere else right now.” you try to explain, your breath quickening as you search for the right words. The silence on the other end is heavy before she lets out a breath.

“bullshit. i knew something was up when i asked eren if he saw you. i fuckin’ knew it, he was too calm when he said you’re good.” she begins rambling on how she’s going to punch eren next and onyankopon again.

“z, i was literally having a panic attack when he found me. he’s been patient and careful with me this whole time. it’s just one night and then i’m goin’ right back to my house.”

zinnia sighs as she stops in her tracks. she could hear the begging and sincerity in your voice and it crushes her. you’re grown, she has to remind herself.

“alright. snooks. alright. just.. just stay safe, okay?” zinnia plops back down onto the bed.

“i will.” there was no one safer than ony. even if you guys were going through an unofficial breakup, you’re positive he still wouldn’t let anything happen to you. “where are you?” you ask when you faintly hear a voice in the background.

“eren’s.” she says quietly.

“and you’re mad at me?!” you exclaim with a laugh.

her and eren have been on and off for years now. most of the time their relationship ends because zinnia gets irritated or overwhelmed by eren and calls it quits. there little breakups barely last a week before they’re seeing each other again. this time’s no different.

“i think the line is breaking up. i-oops-bye!” she says before hanging up on you. i stare at your phone in shock, did she really hang up on you? you can’t do anything but laugh to yourself.

you decide to call sasha too, who answers on the first ring.

“about to get dick. i’m safe, are you safe?” she asks hurriedly. you could hear r&b music blaring in the background and the sound of connie’s singing.

“yeah, just was calling to make sure everything was alright.” you explain to her.

“more than alright. i’ll call you tomorrow, snooks. gotta go.” you usher her a quick bye before ending the call.

there’s no one to distract your thoughts, now. you’re forced to look around in the room you lost your virginity in, the room it felt like you were just in. memories of you and onyankopon stumbling through the door, his hands planted on your waist as he guided you to his bed. other times you two would be laughing while carrying a bag from your comfort fast food place. you’d be discussing the new episode of the tv show you two enjoyed watching together. you don’t even realize your eyes were watering until one of your tears ran down your cheek. you let out a huff as you wiped it away only to hiss in pain when you accidentally touch a bruised spot.

there’s no telling how long you lay in bed staring blankly at the walls and ceilings. your thoughts are so loud that you can’t even find it in you to get on your phone. there’s memories of him there too. thankfully, you doze off and the stress from today is something to worry about when you wake up.

₊˚⊹ ♡ ʚ🎀ɞ ♡ ⊹˚

“you sure you're straight?” onyankopon asks. his brown eyes take in your bruised face. even through all of the marks and bruises, you’re still so beautiful. he had made sure you were fed and that he put cream on your face before you two made the journey back to your house.

you stare out of the passenger window. your heart feels heavy, you’re worried that this will be the last time you two officially talk. even though you were so sad and mad at him, you love him. he’s your first everything, and everything he did felt genuine. it was hard to throw something so meaningful behind you. your bottom lip trembles as you try not to cry in front of him.

“i’ll make it.” is all you say. you try to keep up your disdained front, but onyankopon sees through it. he always does.

“i put the cream in your purse.” he tells you. he had made sure to drop it in while you were finishing the breakfast he bought you.

“thanks.” you basically whisper out. you should be screaming at him, you should be telling him you hate him, you should be disrespecting him just as much as he did you at the party. but none of those emotions could be forefront at the moment. you’re sad, scared, and confused. you truly don’t want to lose him but you couldn’t just pretend you didn’t see the video and accept the disrespect.

the two of you sit in silence. after what feels like an eternity, onyankopon lets out a long, weary sigh, breaking the awkward stillness that had settled between you. “i know i fucked up. ‘nd i know we need t’talk some shit out. i got some plays to make today, ‘nd ion wanna rush you t’talk to me if you don’t want to.” he’s careful with his words, he doesn’t want to say anything else that would upset you and make you hate him more. “when you’re ready, call or text me.”

finally, you look over at him. your eyes connect with his instantly and the familiar butterfly feeling returns in your gut. “alright.” you mumble. you pick up your purse and then open the door. you close it and without looking back like you usually would, you walk to your front porch. you could feel his eyes on you as you walked. it took almost all of your willpower to not look back.

you busy yourself with searching in your purse for your house key. he doesn’t pull off until you’re all the way in your eyes and the door is closed behind you. you don’t know how to feel. your relationship could possibly reconcile on your terms. you didn’t know if you wanted to reconcile. you’ve heard zinnia mention many times that she goes to eren’s for closure before they break up permanently, but she never comes back actually single. is that what’s going to happen with you and onyankopon? you’re sure he’s more mature than eren, so what if he decides to end things.

you’re so stuck in your thoughts you don’t realize your mother is calling you until she’s directly in your face. you had meant to rush into your bedroom and show your parents your face hours later. you’re sure your newfound state will be the talk of the house for the rest of the day now. her eyes are wide as she takes in your bruises, without a word her hand grabs your jaw. she assesses how bad things are with sharp eyes. you hold your breath as you wait for her to begin her lecturing.

“daughter.” she says as she drops her hand.

“hm?” you pretend you don’t notice her mood drop or the fact that you can practically feel the anger radiating off of her.

“before i trip the hell out, you’re an adult. and in a very adult manner, without beating around the bush, you’re going to tell me what the hell happened to your face.” she leaves no room for argument, every word spoken is stoic and firm.

“ma, can i tell you later?” you’re sighing with deflated shoulders. “i need to just be alone right now and think.” you try to explain yourself.

“this is why i’m so protective. i let you go out, and this is how you come back! have you seen your face? do you know you have to go out in public like that?!”

“please, ma. not right now.” your voice cracks as you plead with her to relax. the last thing you feel like dealing with is her fretting. “i’ll tell you, i just need some time alone.”

“did that damn boy put his hands on you?! tell me now so we can go to the police!” her accusation has your heart thumping a little faster in your chest.

you quickly grow defensive on onyankopon’s behalf. “he would never! i fell.” you tell her simply. you could tell from the way she rolled her eyes that she didn’t believe you which only irritated you further.

“you think i haven’t heard that before? that’s what girls always say to protect their boyfriend’s. i refuse to allow you to see him if一”

“he didn’t hit me! i fell! i was at a party, a fight broke out, it escalated into something further, and everyone got scared and started pushing. no one hit me, i was pushed and fell face first.” you make sure to leave out the fact that it was zinnia who got into a fight.

your mother’s sharp eyes eye you from head to toe. there’s a frown on her face that screams that she still doesn’t believe you. you feel the urge to cry, you were being truthful and telling her what happened from start to finish, and for her to not believe you made you want to scream.

“you’d tell me if he一no, anyone, put their hands on you. right?” her voice is calmer. you assume she’s trying to piece together your words.

“yes. you know i would. i know how crazy you and dad can get.” you try to slip in a joke to ease the tension that was brewing between the two of you. it seemed to work because a small smile cracked onto her lips as she nodded her head in agreement.

“mhm. everybody know we don’t play about our baby.” she chuckles. she gazes intently at your face for a few more seconds, her eyes searching yours as if looking for something unspoken. finally, she lets out a deep, weary sigh, her shoulders slumping slightly with the weight of unvoiced thoughts. “that’s how i know you’re my daughter. still pretty with scratches and shit on your face.”

you can’t stop the laugh from escaping past your lips. “i learned from the best.”

“your daddy’s upstairs. gone and show him you face so that he can get his shock out the way too.” she tells you.

you groan in annoyance at her words. “ma一”

“gone on.” she repeats firmer.

with hesitant, slow steps you take your time walking up the stairs. you knew your father was going to absolutely lose his shit. and you’re more than positive that he’s going to overreact before you can explain to him what happened. the walk to their bedroom is too short for your liking. you knock twice before you put your hand on the knob and slowly open the door.

“hey babygir一what the hell?! go get the gun!”

a heavy sigh escapes your lips as the realization hits you. you’re going to have to explain everything and soothe his worries, just as you did with your mother. the weight of the impending conversation settles on your shoulders, and you mentally brace yourself for the emotional rollercoaster ahead.

₊˚⊹ ♡ ʚ🎀ɞ ♡ ⊹˚

it’s been a week since you’ve talked to onyankopon. since the, you’ve been forcing yourself to go out more, regardless of what happened to your face. sasha and zinnia have doing wel on keeping you and your mind occupied. the three of you have been going on many nature walks, shopping trips, and road trips. it seems as if love was no longer in the air, as your two ‘sisters’ complained about their failing love life as well.

you three were walking a popular trail in your city. the path was lined with a diverse array of vibrant plants, their leaves rustling gently in the breeze. every so often, a flash of color would catch your eye as various birds and delicate butterflies flew by. all three of you were wearing pink pilates workout sets that you begged them to wear with you.

zinnia wiped off the sweat that formed on her forehead. “shit! it’s hot.”

“i miss my man.” sasha pouts as she lets out a dramatic fake cry.

“bitch, don’t we all.” zinnia rebuttals. she takes a gulps out of her water bottle while sasha begins ranting about connie.

“i didn’t even do shit to him this time! i think he’s on his boy period or something.” sasha groans.

“eren told me, i’m and i quote, ‘too crazy’.” zinnia’s lips tug into a frown “‘m not crazy, just sensual.” she defends herself.

“nah girl, you’re crazy. but eren is crazy too, so y’all are made for each other.” sasha tells zinnia.

“didn’t you chase connie down when you saw another girl in his car?”

you zone the two girls out. even though you’ve been going out more. it would be a lie to say you haven’t been missing ony, it’s gotten to the point where you find yourself tearing up a little and have to quickly mask it. you absolutely love spending time with your girls, the both of them together always make sure to make you laugh. but there were traits of ony that the two of them didn’t carry and couldn’t make you forget.

the urge to text him and possibly reconcile has been begging you to give in. you should hate him, you should absolutely despise him, but for some reason you don’t. you feel the urge to sit down with him, and simply ask him why. you had never done anything to disrespect him, ever, so why did he feel the need to disrespect you?

your mind races with a whirlwind of thoughts, each one pulling you in a different direction. part of you craves the closure that a conversation might bring, the chance to understand his actions and perhaps find some peace. yet, there's an undeniable fear that talking to him could reopen old wounds, making it even harder to move on. you find yourself questioning everything—did you miss the signs, were there red flags you ignored, or was it all just a cruel twist of fate? the uncertainty gnaws at you, leaving you torn between the need for answers and the instinct to protect your heart from further pain.

“snookie.” zinnia’s voice calls you out of your thoughts. you slightly flinch and look over at her. “you talked to ony recently?” she asks curiously.

“uh, no. we haven’t spoken since he dropped me off last week.” you tell the two. “he told me to call or text him whenever i’m ready.”

“are you ready?” sasha asks you.

you think on your words. you find yourself at a loss of words which causes you to shrug your shoulders unsurely. “i-uhm.. i think i’m kinda ready.” you say hesitantly.

“don’t be in a rush to talk. let him be without your presence for a little.” sasha tells you.

“that’s the thing, we’ve been going without talking for a while. and honestly i miss him, so much, maybe too much.” memories of what he did at the party flashes through your mind which causes you to internally shudder. “i think i might talk to him soon.” you huff.

the girls give each other a look before they give you any sort of vocal response. “you sure?” zinnia asks worrily. “i don’t want him to just sweet talk you and you instantly give in. we know you, snooks.”

you take in her words. what people don’t understand is that he’s your first everything. he holds a place in your heart that no person will ever compare to. regardless of if you end things with him or not, you’ll forever have love for him.

“i don’t know how it’s going to go, honestly. i’m just ready to talk to him and have a final answer.”

“well, just know we support whatever you choose.” sasha tells you while giving you a genuine smile.

₊˚⊹ ♡ ʚ🎀ɞ ♡ ⊹˚

the sound of partynextdoor's voice fills onyankopon's car. the smell of weed and a mixture of his strong cologne fills your smell. it's two merged smells that you've grown to miss. you feel strangely nervous to be around him, as if he wasn't just your boyfriend some weeks ago.

you're nervously typing in the three out of three group chat. you're updating the girls about every minor detail that happens. you were beginning to regret agreeing to meet up with him, you thought you would have been more confident and assured but just a lazy glance from his brown eyes had butterflies floating around inside your stomach.

you look down at the cupholder where his phone rests. that's what started it all. him leaving his phone and you taking it upon yourself to pick it up and go through it. you quickly learned your lesson, you probably will never touch anyone else's phone except yours for the rest of your life.

you wouldn't have had time to do it again, anyway. seconds later, onyankopon is approaching his car with both vanilla sundaes in his tattooed hands. he hands you yours before sitting down and making himself comfortable.

"thank you." the words leave your lips stiffly, lacking the warmth they once held. just weeks ago, you might have added a playful nickname, something intimate that rolled off your tongue with ease. now, the air between you feels thick with unspoken tension, making such casual familiarity feel out of place and awkward.

he mutters out a stilted “you’re welcome” before he’s putting his car in reverse and backing out of the parking lot.

he drives in silence, and you make no attempts to spark up a conversation. you have no clue of what to say to him first. occasionally, words bubble in your mouth and as you’re ready to vocalize them, you stop yourself.

the drive isn’t particularly long. quicker than you expected, ony is pulling into a secluded spot that overlooks the river running through your city. the location is perfect, offering an unobstructed view of the sunset. the sky is awash with warm orange hues, casting a gentle glow over the water, the scene feels almost surreal, the calmness of the view displayed to you wrapping around you like a comforting blanket. it’s short lived when he puts his car into park and turns it off, only the music is running. your heart drops as you realize the inevitable is about to happen.

you focus intently on your sundae, trying to distract yourself. your stomach is doing flips, making it nearly impossible to swallow the sweet, creamy bites. each spoonful feels like an effort, the sugary treat almost too much to handle the turmoil inside you.

“how have you been?” his voice makes you flinch a little. you thought he was going to stay just as quiet as you.

“i’ve been good.” terse and short. you’re not even doing it on purpose, it’s just all you could provide. “how about you?” you add on to seem less rude.

he takes a spoonful of his ice cream before he responds to you. “life has been lifing.” he chuckles but it seems forced.

“oh.” is all you can provide. admittedly, hearing that he’s been going through things and not everything has been peaches and cream for him fulfills some insecure part in your brain.

“snookums.” the nickname he used to call you had your eyes suddenly watering. you pretend to not be affected by his words by inhaling a restricting amount of ice cream. “i’ve never felt like this about anyone, ever. i want us to work, forreal. i don’t think i can continue livin’ my life without you in it. you’re all pink ‘nd glittery ‘nd shit. you deadass walked into my life and brightened shit up. i love it. i love you.” ony finishes off his words with a heavy inhale. the sound of the water clashing against each other fills the silence as you try to collect your words.

tears continue to threaten to spill past your eyes as you stare out of the windshield window. you feel so overwhelmed, there were hundreds—millions of. things you wanted to say to him when you were mad but now that you’re calm and thinking, you have nothing to say. deep down, past your rapidly beating heart, you knew that you didn’t want your relationship to end. but it’s choosing between fighting for your relationship and accepting his wrongdoings or ending things now and keeping some sort of morals.

you don’t even realize tears are dripping down your face until ony’s fingers wipe under your eyes, catching a few stray tears. you turn your head to look at him, his chocolate eyes are only on you. there’s a restless look on his face. was no contact hurting him as much as it was hurting you? you honestly hoped it was.

your words die in your throat every time you try to form a sentence. you could only sniffle and rub at your eyes.

“w-why? just.. why? why’d.. you let her dance on you? why’d you go an-and embarrass me like that?” you barely manage to get everything out without bursting into tears. your voice is wobbly and cracked. you hate feeling like this.

“i was high ‘nd drunk as fuck. but that does not at all excuse my actions. i’m genuinely sorry for my actions and i hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me.” his voice sounds sincere, and the way he's gazing at you, with his eyes practically begging for a second chance, makes it clear how much he means it.

you take a deep breath, feeling the weight of his words. the hurt still lingers, but so does the memory of the good times. now’s the time to be an adult, to communicate thoroughly, to set boundaries and not just go with whatever he says.

"what you did.. really hurt me.” you sigh out before continuing. “and it's going to take time to rebuild that trust. but i can see how sorry you are, a-and i want to believe that you can change. i need to know that this won't happen again." you say quietly, your voice trembling slightly. you look into his eyes, searching for the sincerity you hope is there.

“i swear on everything that this won’t happen ever again, i’ll deactivate what ever account, i’ll stop goin’ to parties, all of it. you matter more than any social media page or party, i’ll forever choose your love.” he tells you sincerely. his voice carries a blend of determination and vulnerability. timidly, he reaches for your left hand, his fingers trembling slightly as he gently lifts it. when you allow him to grasp it, he envelops your smaller hand in his larger, warmer grip, a gesture of his earnest plea for forgiveness.

₊˚⊹ ♡ ʚ🎀ɞ ♡ ⊹˚

“and yeah.. i took him back.” you finish recalling the events that took place to zinnia and sasha. the three of you are lounging on your bed, spiraled in different positions so that all three of you could fit. the two girls were hanging onto every word you said, nosily. “i know i’m stupid or naive but一” you’re cut off by zinnia talking over you.

“none of that, snookie. you’re young and in love. no one knows you better than you know him and if you want to give him another chance then so be it. don’t block yourself from love worrying about what everyone else is going to say or think.” your cousin’s words are firm and she’s looking directly into your face to let you know she’s serious. “it’s your first serious relationship, not everything’s gonna be perfect.”

“literally. have you seen how many times we went back to these damn men? we might not like them right now, but we do love them.” sasha backs up zinnia’s words.

“well, i wouldn’t say i love eren, but he’s real chill y’know? zinnia's voice trails off as both you and sasha exchange an unimpressed glance. sasha raises an eyebrow, and you stifle a sigh, knowing exactly where this conversation is heading. “what?! i’m serious!” ainnia insists, her tone defensive, but her attempt to convince you falls flat. “

your cousin’s a liar, maybe you shouldn’t listen to her advice.” sasha side eyes zinnia some more.

the girls begin bickering while you think back to onyankopon. he has been trying to do better and also get the relationship back to how things were before the argument. he’s constantly checking up on you, making sure you’re still applying cream to your fading bruises, and sending you money whenever you mention the slightest things. the awkwardness that manifests sometimes still lingers between the two of you, but you both try to work around it and adjust.

he’s been having an uproar of clients which means having to stay on the go constantly since he also delivers. he still makes sure to find time to call you and talk about your day and plans. you feel like a giddy teenager having their first crush.

“when’s the last time you and connie talked?” zinnia asks sasha.

“while i was driving over here. i had him on bluetooth, and asked him if he still hates me. he told me i ‘ruined his life’. like okay mr.dramatic.” sasha recounts while rolling her eyes and shrugging her shoulders.

“he might be onto something.” zinnia comments.

“oh, please!” sasha responds defensively.

these two girls have made sure to keep you content and entertained this entire time. they’ve never judged you or made you feel left out and confused. and you’re so grateful for them. you don’t even realize you’re crying until their attention is placed onto you and they’re both gazing at you with confused curiosity.

“snookie, what’s wrong?” sasha asks worrily. “is it cause i brought up connie? his vibe is negative right now but he’s not that bad of a person.”

you huff out a laugh at her words. with the end of your shirt, you use it to dab at your eyes. “no it’s not that. i just一i’m so grateful to have you both. y’all have been so supportive and understanding. and i’m so thankful.” you finish off your words weakly. instead of successfully wiping at your tears you’ve only managed to multiply them.

“awe, snookie! you’re gonna make me cry!” zinnia exclaims while wiping at her eyes. “you’re our lil’ sister why wouldn’t we be here for you?” she sniffles.

“you mean the world to us. and you were going through an extremely vulnerable situation, of course we were going to make sure you stayed level headed.” sasha adds on, her voice filled with empathy and concern.

all three of you find yourselves caught in a chorus of sniffles, a harmony of shared vulnerability while comforting each other. the scene is both comical and beautiful. three women that have each other as a solid support system. all three of your personalities are polar but they still manage to successfully merge and create a beautiful sisterhood.

after the three of you calm down and go back to your usual selves, you decide to spark up the conversation again. “ony wants me to come over his crib tonight.” you tell them nervously.

they both look up from their phones and look at you. zinnia has a look of hesitance while sasha has a smirk on her lips.

“snookie’s trying t’get freaky!” sasha laughs. with a sly smile on your lips, you cover your face in embarrassment. she isn’t exactly wrong. it’s been a while. you went from getting some almost everyday, including multiple times a day, to none. late night when it was just you in your room, you get wandering thoughts and memories that are too extreme to ignore.

“it would be nice.” you giggle shyly.

“don’t think you have to have sex with him, okay? just ‘cus y’all are together again doesn’t mean he needs to be inside you.” zinnia lectures. she really does just want the best for you, and she’s aware that you just want to go out and live. she doesn’t want to be sheltering like your parents, but she does want you to be safe.

“okay.” you nod your head. you’re aware that she just wants the best for you.

“don’t end up having a mini ony.” sasha warns you.

₊˚⊹ ♡ ʚ🎀ɞ ♡ ⊹˚

“ohmygod!” you squeal. your legs are spread open with onyankopon’s broad figure in between them. everything about him is so big, including the fingers that are rubbing at your clit. “baby.” the word escapes from your mouth weakly as your hands clench at the messy covers.

onyankopon busies himself with kissing at your jaw, his full lips leave trails of wet kisses. you felt so full, if you concentrated enough it almost felt like he was going beyond the confines of your walls and into your stomach.

“missed you, baby.” his tone is soft as he continues his trailing. the sound of his lips smacking against your skin and your body’s merging together to create a lustful harmony echo’s through his bedroom.

“missed you too.” you heave out. he’s taking his time to fuck you. his thrusts are articulated and rhythmic, he never skips a beat as he fills you up over and over again. the sound of his heavy balls slapping against your ass almost embarrasses you.

your pussy’s a sputtering mess, gushes of your arousal continue to coat his dick every time he pushes his thick dick into your warm walls. the only time he’s ever fucked you so slow and sincerely is the night he took your virginity. there’s something about the slow pull of his hips that has you going crazy. he’s moving so slow but it’s enough to fill you up and have you muttering words of love.

“you missed getting fucked like this, baby? hm? missed the way i filled you up?” he moves to your ear to whisper sweet little praises. everything he’s muttering to you sounds good. he hasn’t fucked you to the point that you could feel yourself going dumb. instead, you feel an infinite amount of love for him, with the way he’s slowly moving and talking to you, is this what making love feels like? you wonder to yourself.

“yes, ony, missed it so much.” you moan.

“jus’ love you s’much.” ony mumbles to you. his tongue darts out to trace the shell of your ear. he’s going even slower it feels like.

“faster, ony.” you whine. you were absolutely enjoying his slow languid thrusts but you were beginning to grow more needy. you wanted him to fuck you like he usually did. rough, unforgiving, and nasty.

“y’asking or telling, baby?” he taunts. he stops his thrusting all together which draws another whine out of you, this time more frustrated than the other.

“asking.” you’re pouting and grabbing at his shoulders. you look so small under him, it makes him want to be mean. he knows you can take it, you always do.

ony moves back to your lips, he doesn’t rush to connect his lips with yours. instead, he lets his linger by yours while looking deeply into your eyes. even after talking and forgiving him, there’s so much left to be said. he knows it’ll take time to rebuild the trust you had in him and plans on making sure to never put you in a predicament like that again. slowly, he leans into you and presses his lips yours.

you get so caught up in the steamy kiss, you don’t realize he had begun to move his hips again. not until, he gives you a particularly hard thrust that has you pulling away from the kiss so that you could moan freely.

he plows his dick into your aroused cunt causing soft mewls to escape from your mouth. you had begun biting down on your lip, he realizes. ony smacks his teeth and stops once again. wordlessly, he had leaned up and placed one of your legs on his shoulder.

a loud moan frees itself from you when he suddenly starts pounding your pussy. the rough, firm rhythm is back, just faster.

“‘m sorry.” he repeats to you. he’s letting out moans and huffs himself as he loses himself inside your tight, wet pussy.

“mmm!” is all you can groan in response. your brain can’t handle words at the moment. your eyes zero in on where the two of you are connected. there’s a thick white coat around his dick and some splatters on his pubic hair.

“gonna make it up t’you. i love you.” he promises with a desperate whine.

his finger goes back to fondling with your sensitive clit. your back arches up, which only gives a better view at your chest. “love you too—love you more.” you gasp out.

that night, he makes love to you over and over until the two of you are extremely exhausted. he makes sure to apologize, to make promises he guarantees he’s going to fulfill, and to never hurt you like that ever again.

taglist: @conniecherry @ikookiesword @briluvsmoney@shaleiishigh @undevidedattentionsblog @notbeforelong @chunkygirl07 @chericherilady8@romansssrevenge @ejdhsk @jeansspacegirl @imaniitheoneee @aiyaaayei @kenbentenn @prettypink-princesss @severenswife @kirayuki22 @cauqhtz @prettypinkpwrincess @undermypersuasion @onysmamas @whoareyouuuo @lowellsdomain @rosemary-222 @jamies-cumslut @okayiamkassandra @thatblckquietgirl2 @coriewrld @xoxo-shy @iloveoldermenn @jupittterrrrr @katsukis-lilbunnywhore @vayaonair @naj-ay444 @hidd3nbimbo @rintcrous

#prettiedup ♡#prettiedup’s aot fics .ᐟ ony #9k wc #im finally done omfg #aot x black reader #aot onyankopon #onyankapon #ony x black reader #onyankopon x reader #onyankopon smut

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aespabangedbang · 14 days ago

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AE-REVENGE CHAPTER ONE - MY FAMILY

- Karina Smut, Feat Eunha, Cameo Ning.

Writer's Note : "A masterpiece. A densely packed box of sex, drama and filth. A taboo romantic sonet!" That's how I guess some reviewer from big magazine would review this smut. Kekeke, here is the very first chapter of my Aespa Vengeance series. ENJOY IT, MY BEST WRITING TO DATE!

Tag : (FULL CON story), Mention of NON CON, Cheating, EX, Toxic Relationship, Pregnancy, Breeding, Milk Kink, Betrayal, Usual all three holes getting fucked, Degradation, Punishment, Mental and Physical breakdown, Piss Kink, Revenge, Parenthood, Children Exposure to Sex, Family Drama, Ulterior Motive, Cumdump, Abuse, Titfuck, Love and more...

Warning : Pure smut story. Don't ask for morality here to appear like a saint. Saints don't come to read smut kekeke.

Word Count : 8,300 word of nonstop filth.

Next Episode : Going to be about Ningning. But I have no draft about how it's going to be. So you can send your filty ideas on how she should get fucked. Read to the end for understanding the story flow!

A luxurious car stopped in front of my privately owned clinic, it's afternoon past 3 PM. I have made quite a fame and fortune as a young, rising and successful gynecologist. Today my highly esteemed patient has just arrived, waiting for her for an hour despite me having no job coming to my chamber at this hour today. I can see her attractive slim figure swaying from my chamber's window on the 2nd floor, sipping on a big cup of coffee.

Mrs. Park or should I rather introduce herself in her real name Jimin, is coming to visit me according to her appointment. Her milky white body is covered with a luxurious contrasting black Prada outfit, with a low cut neck displaying the canyon of her ample boobs. Her wavy hairs are draping on her shoulder, her hip swaying from her cat walking wearing expensive high heels. A 4 years old boy, named after his father Park Jr aka Little Park grabbing her hand and coming along. Pretty excited, you can tell from the way he is walking.

Soon after my assistant doc Ms Eunha, a sexy and busty young lady showed them to my chamber. I greet them warmly, “Welcome Mrs. Park, I hope you had no trouble coming all the way here to my humble abode. I hope lil Park here and everyone else are doing well at your home.” I show her the chairs to sit on. “How are you doing son? Having any ailments lately?” I ask him playfully, though he doesn't answer. Grabbing his mom’s hand even after sitting on the chair.

“Calling a multi million dollar cutting edge clinic a humble abode is really befitting you.” She scoofs with a smirk, and didn't answer my first question purposely. She is still such a fiesty one! “Hahaha, excuse my poor humor. Working overtime for my patients has left me rather dry inside. I hope I can have some rejuvenating experience today.” I look at her with a spark, her eyes locked on mine. She takes a deep breath.

My sexy assistant comes inside with a press of my bell, her assets bouncing with every step. “Please bring two iced americano and a big mug of chocolate milk for dear lil Park here.” I know the exact drink she would love at this hour. “You are already having coffee, why bring tea then?” She asks knowing the answer, what a tease! “There is no harm keeping my energy bar and fluid level topped, who knows I may have to deplete them both soon!” I tease back, her innocent acting is amusing.

She bites her lower lips then looks outside the window. Her side profile has gotten sharper, more well defined. Her cleavage looks delicious, her big boobs have grown even bigger from lactation. She is still breastfeeding her boy. She is many things but a good mom without any question. The drinks arrive, we start sipping without any exchange. She calms down a little, maybe the old custom has eased her nerves a little bit.

“Itt delis umma!” Little Park says to her excitedly, his baby talk is so adorable. “Slowly, why are you letting the milk drip on your shirt?” With a little scolding but affectionate voice Jimin says to him, her hand busy wiping a few droplets of milk from his shirt. I hand her a tissue, “Use it.” “Thanks,” she takes it without even looking at me. “It's ok son, I used to drop drinks on shirts like you too. It's no wonder you have the same habit.” I assure little Park as lovingly as I can.

Jimin turns her head swiftly, her sharp eyes staring at me as if trying to cut my voice with her gaze. Her lips are locked like a meep, an old habit of hers whenever she gets angry with someone. “O-Oh I am just saying it's a problem a lot of us face, hehe….” I panickingly answer, it would be such a waste if she leaves just for my slip of tongue. She rolls her eyes away from me and starts tending to her son’s shirt. Phew, she is not gonna leave.

Once we are done drinking the americano, she gives me haste, “Let's start the checkup doc. I am not here to see an old friend today, let's get this over with.” Her voice is way too cold, it's clear this line was rehearsed in her mind before. “Sure milady, your wish is my command!” I scoff, this line was something enough to get whatever I wanted once. Good ol days! She stays silent, I stand up and show her to the next door.

I ring the bell again, my assistant comes swaying her busty ass. “Please take care of lil Park while her mom is getting checked up. Go play with Miss here son, she’ll take good care of you.” Lil Park looks at his mom, not wanting to let her go. “Go with her baby, mom'll be back soon!” She pats and shows him off the chamber, my assistant takes him away. Most probably will take him to the canteen for food. “Shall we?” I opened the door for her. She silently enters, I follow behind.

The room is spacious with a Gyno Chair in the middle. That's where I take a satisfying look at my patients’ delicious pussy. If they are ill, I try my best to treat them. If they are completely fine, I still give them my best treatment. A little injection around their pussy and they can't even tell if it's my finger or cock doing the checkup. The little curtain in front of their face really helps. If they don't let me put that, then I put them to sleep and have some satisfying moments with them. Virgin, young, milf, dilf or granny I say no to anyone. “All pussy are equal” that's the unofficial motto of my clinic.

But the pussy in front of me is special, very special. I slap her booty with a loud smack, “Enjoying the good mama act, ain't ya?” “KYAAA, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” She hiss back, “JUST DO IT AND GET IT OVER. I AM NOT HERE FOR THE PLEASURE!” She reminds me, grabbing both of my hands with hers. “But pleasure is all I am here for. The pleasure of getting you back even for a few moments is driving me crazy!”

I overpower both of her hands and keep pushing her toward the wall, then pin both hands above her head with my left. “You are still like a kitten!” I remind my ex what I used to call her back in the day. My right hand gives her milking udders some rough squeeze, she responds with a moan. “Ahhh don't, milk will drench my clothes.” She protests though I knew that already.

My hands go for her crotch, her pussy is already wet, her panty soaking. “Look who is not here for pleasure yet her pussy is ready for all the fun!” I move the panty aside and insert my middle finger up in her pussy, fingering her g spot that I know very well. Cause it was I who found it for her. She bucks her hip backward, her head on my shoulder while my finger is busy pleasuring her with a surgeon’s precision. Once I am satisfied with her lubrication, I pull out.

I put my fingers in her mouth to taste, but she doesn't suck them. So I smear my hand around her tongue before grabbing her neck. I go for a french kiss, tasting her musky pre cum and tea smelling mouth is my forbidden pleasure. I let go of her hands then grab around her waist, my palm busy squeezing her tight butt cheeks. I am kissing her with such lust like I’ll eat her whole like a python. I break free from the kiss, a strand of saliva connecting our mouths drops on her boobs. “S-STOP! JUST FUCK ME ALREADY! ARGH…” She begs me as she doesn't want to get hooked on her past lover.

I start undressing her. “Argh just fuck my pussy and get over it, don't have to undress!” She tries to fight back again. This time I snap. I pull and tear her panty in one go and then force it into her mouth. “If YOU don't stop protesting at everything then I'll tear your Prada dress like a beggar's rag so the world can know the country’s top industrialist Park’s wife is cheating with her ex behind his back!” I threaten her then get back to undress her.

Once her Prada dress is gone and I unhook her bra, her body is out like a sacred diva statue uncovered from a treasure box. Her milky white perfectly petite body hasn't aged. Her 34D busty saggy boobs have grown bigger, taut and plump full of milk. Her abdomen has gotten curvier after pregnancy and a little bit of fat here and there. She is still so stunning, the mommy transformation has only elevated her sexual appeal.

“You know I am not cheating!” She insists but I don't heed the obvious. I dig into her long neck, my soft bite and hungry kisses make horny Jimin grab onto my hair, she has started moaning from full arousal. I go lower on her big mommy boobs, milk spurting out from her saggy udders with each of my squeezes. I start sucking her nipples along areola one after another, while the other tit spurting milk, drenching my doctor attire. Her chest heaving, breath getting shallower.

Her milk is the sweetest thing I have ever drunk. It's the first time I am drinking my Jimin’s milk, my love’s tasty milk right from her udders. I bring both boobs together and start power sucking both nipples, my mouth getting full with sweet milk with every suction. “AH AHHH AH AHH STOP, LEAVE SOME FOR MY SON AHHH….” She is moaning. I suck a little more before letting her go. Her face is completely flushed seeing her past lover enjoying her breast milk.

I restrain myself for lil Park. Don't want the little boy to go hungry. I go lower again, her tummy has become curvier after pregnancy. Still it's well toned and soft like before. I keep kissing, my tongue darting inside her tiny round belly button, the salty taste making me go crazy. I go even lower and bury my face in her crotch. My nose between her wet pussy slit, at the entrance of her baby hole. The musky intoxicating smell of her wet pussy and sweat makes me go crazy.

I put my tongue in, the taste of her sweet pussy juice and salty sweat overwhelm my taste buds. I am slurping and licking her pussy clean like a possessed, my hands busy groping and getting a feel of her tight booty. I shove my finger in her asshole, fingering it to loosen for anal sex. She grabs my head again while grinding her pussy all over my face, smearing my face wet. No matter what act she puts on, once she gets horny she becomes a siren who stops at nothing.

“AHH AH AHHH AH FUCK IT. YOU ARE MAKING ME TOO HOT, F-FUCK! FUCK ME ALREADY YOU SHIT AHHH…..” I pull out my tongue and start fingering her hard and fast, I can see her pussy tightening around my finger. I use another hand to pinch her erected clit until she starts convulsing and cum gushing out, painting my face. I immediately latch on her pussy, a flood of her nectar making it sweet all the way in my food pipe. Be it milk or cum, everything about her is sweet. I suck and lick her pussy clean before french kissing her lower lips once again.

“Mmm, you are still so sweet Jimin. You are still fucking delicious after all this year!” I look at her face, that needy horny expression used to make me crazy back then. Her hands on my shoulder supported her body, still convulsing and knees inward. “I have given you your due Jimin, now pay me back mine!” She flinch, the fact I still followed our custom of making her cum before I can fuck her makes her expression soft, almost sad.

“I don't need your sympathy Jimin.” I say before going behind her swiftly to hide my face between the cave of her bubble butt. The faint smell of shit coming from her asshole. She still doesn't wet wipe her ass. “I-IT'S DIRTY DOWN THERE, S-STOP!” She tries to stop me but like before I replies, “I am enough to make you clean mommy!” Her hands grab my head yet again, caressing my hair almost like she acknowledges the fact I am still down bad for her like I was since day one. With my tongue and big licking I clean her asshole up, if it's Jimin's then I don't care about anything else.

I choke her neck, tight but not painful, then guide her to the Gyno Chair. I promptly made her sit on it, spread her legs apart and put them on the leg rests. Her peach shaped glistening brown labia and pink pussy hole in front of me once again. Remind me how she used to spread her legs for me, every single damn day. I tighten the strap around her legs, making sure she can't move. Then I go for her hands. “Just how many did you fuck on this chair? Your preparation looks quite elaborate.”

“THAT'S THE POINT JIMIN!” I hiss at her, “I have fucked so many bitch on this chair but nobody feel just right like you! You have broken me, you kept fucking me to the point that I can't fuck anyone else like you!” I pull the strap tightly around her wrist before I finish my words, above her head. Now her body properly secured for through fucking. She looks at me with her puppy eyes, lips locked. The anticipation of pussy invasion and lust sparkling in those eyes.

I don't wait anymore. I start rubbing her slits with my 6 inch cock, “Here I go!” and shove it all the way in. Her tummy arch forward but can't move much for the contraption. “AAAHH FUCK, TAKE IT SLOW!” I am all the way in, after 5 years I am back in her pussy, the pussy that rightfully belonged to me before that motherfucking bastard Park stole it. I pull out all the way except leaving the tip in. “SHUT UP YOU BETRAYING CUNT!” I shove with all my might, the tip is hitting her womb for good!

“ARGH, I-I AM NOT HERE F-FOR OLD STORY! W-WE B-BOTH KNOW I-I DIDN'T BETRAY Y-YOU! FUUUCK S-SLOW DOWN AAHH AAAAHH….” I am busy fucking her fast, as if to make up for the 5 years I have spent without her. She is feeling it hard, thanks to her cumming a little while ago. I go in for another kiss, I grab her head with one hand while the other is busy choking her. My tongue is busy tasting my Jimin, our tongue entangling like the very first kiss we shared.

I attack her boobs next, sucking the milk of one while the other is auto lactating, spurting with each of my thrust, drenching both her and me. Her pussy is clenching around my cock, her hands and legs are twisting to get out of the straps. “I-IT'S T-TOO MUCH, NNGG NNGG AUGG STOP G-GO SLOW AAAHH….” She is still protesting, how dare she! I grab and muffle her mouth with both and start slamming her pussy with all my might, bucking my hips like a piston going blurry.

MMPH MMFPH MMF MMP MMPH MPFH

Her muffled scream, milk squirting boobs, squirming body and squeezing pussy makes me so hot after a long time. A few more powerful thrusts and I can't hold back anymore, my balls clench painfully while I thrust as deep as I can to flood her womb with my cum. Making sure most of my cum goes in and coats her egg to make her pregnant once again.

I let go of her mouth, “ARGH ARGUGH HUHH AHH HAH...” She is moaning and gasping painfully from my rough thrusting. I lean on her, my head resting between the milky river of her wet boobs, tired. Getting her back after so long made me too agitated, so I ended up pushing myself into her too hard. My semen leaking out around her pussy, my cock still buried in her. I pull out, cum start gurgling out her lower lips. Blobs after blobs, I have cum so much into her, nothing stopping her from getting pregnant.

We both are busy catching our breaths. My hands auto wander to her face and boobs, getting a feel of my love Jimin. Feeling so satisfied fucking her again. Soon enough she regains her composure and says “O-Ok, we are done. Untie me.” She shakes her hands and legs to get my attention. I look at her like how a hunter looks at its hunt. Her creampied hole, sweaty, sexy naked body and fuck me nervous expression shows how vulnerable she is.

I laugh at her mockingly. I scoop a finger worth of my cum from her pussy and put it into her mouth, she sucks having no other option. “What’s the rush queen? We have just started the party.” I painfully claw her jaw, spit a big lump into her open mouth to give her a hint of what's coming next. “N-NO, you said you will impregnate me, like last time. That's it, I t-told you I am not here for pleasure!” I pinch and pull her nipples painfully, milk drenching my finger, “Shut the fuck up you fucking sow, I’ll fuck you until you can't stand straight. I’ll have my fill for your love tormenting me for the past 5 years!”

Yes, little Park is my bastard son. That prick Park never bred her in the first place. Rather, her family blackmailed him into this strategic marriage. Luring him into a one night stand and then forcing her to marry him for their benefits. I couldn't keep her to me, couldn’t save our love, not when I was nothing but a nameless, middle class, broke medical student. I had no value to her family, she abandoned me for her parents and that damn Park stole her from me. FUCK THESE DAMN HIGH SOCIETY BASTARDS, ALL OF THEM!

Back to the present, she is protesting to have sex any longer, I knew she would say something like that. This heartless bitch fucked me for one last time, making sure she gets pregnant and then got married. Never even broke up with me, but left me broken. Now she is back again, willingly. Why? A quick digging up and I found Park has dozens of mistresses and he actually loves no woman, but only their pussies. He is a cruel, ruthless criminal with an underworld connection.

Poor Jimin was afraid to have his baby. Meanwhile she already gave birth to my son, so she called me again all this year later to get bred. So I’ll grant her wish fucking her so much that she will start craving me once again, she must have to. Getting a second chance to have her as mine, I am not going to waste it. She will be mine, she has to be mine, I will make her mine, I will destroy everything if needed for that. I'll have this pussy for me everyday like I always had.

So I set my cock on her entrance again, ready to plunge in the depth of my desire. My eyes lock her, my lips lock her, my hip buck forward, my cock back into where it belongs and the rigorous motion of humping begins once again. Her muffled whisper and short breath encircled by my own mouth matching the rhythm of my cock pumping her pussy full of my seed.

Again and again, her shivering body and whimpering mouth from cumming makes me only hornier. I don't stop, even when she is riding her orgasm, making her eyes go white. Her boobs don't stop drenching both of us in our tight embrace. My cock now pumping out my very own cum out of her pussy. A wet, squelching sound of air escaping her pussy with every thrust engulfed the entirety of the chamber.

After a good 20 min of non stop pussy pumping and turning Jimin into a milk sogging, pussy squirting, body shaking, breath hitching mommy mess; I end up cumming again. I shove my cock ball deep and make sure every single drop of my cum fills her baby hole while her body squirms from overstimulation. I pull out, blob after blobs of my cum coming out of her breathing sore pussy, mixed with her own juice. “You are looking so exquisite! Just like you always did.” I whisper in her powerless ear, she just looking at me with lost eyes.

I open her leg straps, her limp legs just fall down like lead. Same goes for hands, she has zero ounce of energy left to move. I scoop her thoroughly used body in my embrace and safely put her on the bed next to the chair. I flip her over, her milking boob making the bed sheet wet. Her plump white ass invited me for more. Though she doesn't want to accept it. “Please, now let me go. It's getting late!” She begs weakly but I am not the one to listen. I slap both of her booty a few times, leaving a stark red print of hand.

Jimin hides her face against the pillow, muffling herself. “Shut up, I'll have the entirety of you no matter what.” I take some lube I prepared early and start applying it around and inside her asshole with my finger. She moans softly, getting aroused further. Then I smear my cock with a lot of lube to make sure she doesn't get hurt. Then I start rubbing my cock against her pink asshole. After a few moments of anticipation I guide the tip at her entrance and start pushing.

Her ass used to be tight when she was my plaything. But now it's so loose, clearly her delicious booty get fucked often. “What the fuck Jimin, doesn't that shit Park fuck your pussy?” I am now ball deep in her rectum, took a few hard thrust to get here. Jimin doesn't answer, she is biting the pillow now. Her hands going white cause how tightly she has gripped the pillow. “What a waste of this fine ass.” I slap her again, her body shakes from it. “You know it's so hard to get such a fine ass often.”

The furnace hot embrace of her ass makes me hard again. The viagra I took an hour before she arrived working like a charm. I pull mostly leaving my mushroom head in her butt and slam back. “AAACK OH AHH ARGH AHHN NNGH STOP PLEASE STOP THIS ARGGGH…” She cries out while keeping her bite on the pillow. I am having the time of my life claiming her ass once again, but at the price of her agonizing pain. The lube did make it slippery but no amount of lube can make anal fuck painless.

With every thrust her ass is getting stretched to it's limit. My crotch slapping her meaty bouncy ass loudly, the pleasant sound echoing around us. I am driving my hip like possessed, her deep voiced cry is only getting hoarse. I grab her tits and put my torso weight on my forearm, like an endless fountain she has drenched the entire bed under her boobs. My crotch is getting bounced back hitting her elastic butt. Oh how badly I missed pounding my Jimin's ass to oblivion!

After 10 min of nonstop invasion into Jimin's arse I start to feel like cumming again. She has started to feel like back in the days. I have flipped her over, her milking boobs are again making a mess soaking us both. My hand is now choking her neck, forcing a kiss with her whimpering mouth. The sweet smell of mommy milk is hovering in the air. My cock isn't stopping like it has its own mind. Jimin is now pissing herself with every thrust, soaking her and me with her yellow smelly waste.

Her orgasm hits her like a truck as she arches her back in the air, the sweet liquor of her pussy spurt out like a water jet. Milk, piss and cum combined with our sweating body entangled in this skin to skin position have made it such a steamy hot sex. I feel like cumming, but don't want to waste my baby making seeds. So I pull out and once again enter her pussy. I grab behind Jimin's head with both hands, then pull her head up close to my face. She is now sitting on my lap, my cock completely buried in her baby hole.

I am holding her head close to me like how kids hold a barbie doll. Her eyes upturned, mouth agape, breath shallow and hands gone limp again. Her tiny pretty face is now completely under my dominance. Her pussy clenching around my cock with every slow and short upward thrust, she is still orgasming hard. She has completely lost herself in lust and sex, panting from overstimulation. Her messy hair sticking on her sweaty face, I always loved when she looked like this. So lovely, so warm, so wet!

I go in for a kiss, sucking her tongue like a lollipop. Now I am thrusting slowly, trying to prolong this final session as long as I can. If only, if only I could fuck her like this for eternity! I stop sucking, my cock going ever so slowly into her like it's non existent. At last Jimin's eyes are back, looking at me eye to eye so intently. Our hot, short breath is mixing together in a harmony of longing and lust. “YOU ARE LOOKING SO FUCKING BEAUTIFUL!” I don't waste my chance to flirt with her.

I have force fucked hundreds of woman beside her. Being Park's wife she had her fair share of intercourse with many men, being gifted around for his monetary gain. But no women or men can satisfy us the way we can satisfy each other. After this evening, we have both found what we lost 5 years ago. That is we are meant to be each other's, we are far apart now but deep inside we are one! Like now, just how we are together connected with my cock plunged in her pussy.

“FUCKGH! You have bred me so hard!” She gasps for air, her sweaty face making me feel so horny again. “Even after a gangbang I didn't feel this spent, fuck you aaaahh!” She moan softly as she is trembling from getting fucked so hard for so long. “GANGBANG? What the hell Jimin, how many?” I asked her, surprised. I bury my face between her shoulder and face to give her long neck some well earned peck.

“12 honey…” She takes a short break to recally, “Park had a private party a year ago where he gifted me to foreign investors. They fucked me all night… Filled all my holes at the same time, but it still didn't feel as good as yours!” Ironically, her family wanted to give her some queen-like life, blackmailing a man who is richer than them just for their baby girl to get used like a cheap whore. Her parents must be very proud knowing their girl gets gangbanged, legally by the whim of her own husband.

I should be happy though, she is getting punished for her betrayal. But I can't, I am still so soft and caring for her. “Did it hurt too much?” I nudge my nose with hers, my forehead touching her, my hands cupping her face, my cock pistoning smoothly in her pussy. “I couldn't walk around for a week. Can't be helped taking two cocks in my pussy at the same time!” She smirks; it's full of humiliation, pain and a sense of guilt mixed with pleasure. “So you are now a slut huh?” I throw the humiliation to see what's in her mind.

“I am a mom first then a wife. Every moms are fucked somehow, it's just I come in a colorful package thanks to Park.” She is now riding my girth, her hands around my shoulder, her boobs jumping and slapping my face. “What a roundabout way to say you are a whore now!” I grab her ass cheeks and carry her weight, helping her spent body to ride me easily. “Says the doctor who rapes his patients. You have become a monster.” She spit on my face in a poor attempt at fighting back. I chuckle painfully, “We both have gotten corrupted. We lost our way when we lost each other!”

A sigh leaves her, with a lost kitty expression she presses her boobs on my face, sandwiching my nose and eyes between her warm cleavage. It's almost like trying to hide her regrets and pain of losing me. Both of my hands go for the back of her head. I move forward and gently put Jimin on her back. My hands holding her hip as I start pumping my cock with full force into her pussy one last time. She cries out, moaning so loudly like going to make me deaf. I rest my face between her boobs, her milk washing my face with each thrust.

“Give me some milk mommy, my throat got all dry,” I tease Jimin for some hydration with a baby voice. She is just busy moaning and doesn't reply to me but her hands obediently gather both of her nipples and press them together, inviting me to suck both at the same time. I lean forward, grab both boobies and start sucking both nipples at the same time. My mouth is getting overflowed with milks from both udders at the same time, I am literally struggling to gulp down all of it. As a result it's leaking out my mouth and soaking her further.

I have been edging myself for too long. My cock is throbbing too much to release. I let go of her boobs and hold her face, my lips locked in a hungry kiss as my hips go blur once again. “NNGH ANNGH ANGH NNGH AGGH AUGH NNUGH…” Jimin’s muffled struggling moan breaks my prostate dam as the river of my semen starts flooding her baby lake. Her already sticky pussy from previous creampies gets a new layer of cream as her pussy muffin is at last completely creampied. I pull out, cum start leaking out her holes, albeit not as thick as before.

I fell down on her heaving chest. Her sprawled out mommy titis are spurting milk with each and every convulse from her body. She is orgasming again, apparently my enthusiastic or rather crazy humping has pushed her over the edge again. Who knows how long we lied while curling each other. Jimin's head hiding in my chest, my now limp cock resting between her thigh gap. It's Jimin who breaks the silence, “I have to go now. It's getting pretty late. My boy must have gotten hungry.”

“Sigh, a betrayer of a lover, an overused bitch and a caring mom. You are an enigma Jimin.” I reversed our position, now she is on top of me, my cock still getting kissed by her pussy lips. I embrace her tightly, “Yet I don't want to let go of you. Please don't go, don't leave me alone again!” The plea in my voice is clear, I hate to show my weakness yet I can't hide my affection, the eternal longing for my one and only true love. “Don't make it harder for me. I must go.”

Jimin starts smooching my face all over, as if to make up for the absence of her in my life. My eyes, my lip, my nose; she doesn't leave any place empty. My cock, thanks to Viagra, started getting hard again. I am again humping my cock between her thigh, ready to fuck her again. Jimin's mouth go agape with surprise, “WHAT THE FUCK, HOW ARE YOU SO HARD AGAIN?” I smirk, “Let's do it again baby!” I tease her. “NO NO NO NO WAY, my boy waiting for his mom!”

Jimin gets up, wobbly from her breeding session. Her petite frame stumbles as she is struggling to stand still from sore holes. She strides on the floor and goes to collect her dresses and saliva soaked undies from the ground. My cum is visibly dripping out her pussy and going down her thighs. Her milky white cunty body, ample milk filled udders and bouncy supple ass shows why she is the best fuck out there. My sorry cock rise up again, my body want to fuck my Jimin yet again. I stood up and went to help her.

Jimin takes some tissues from the corner and starts wiping herself. She starts with her sweat and saliva filled face, then focuses her milk soaked torso and boobs. I give her a hand, start wiping her pussy and butt hole painted with my cum. Jimin stands patiently, it was one of our old rituals. It was always me who had to wipe her holes clean or else she would not dress up and sit naked with a pout on her face. So I gently cleaned her up, my cock throbbing once again.

“You are all cleaned up Jimin. Now clean me down there!” I point her to my crotch, my cock is still dirty and back to full erection. “I-its getting late, I can't do it anymore!” She begs, her face shows the honest inability of her situation. “Just blow it clean, just a few minutes.” I insist and push her down on her knees. She can hardly resist with her weak, almost limping body. I start rubbing my cock around her lips, a few hits around her face to tease her. “JUST LET ME SUCK ALREADY DAMN!” She gives me a warning glare.

How dare she be bitching with me! Getting angry I shove my cock all in reaching her throat. Forget blowjob, it's about time I facefuck this betrayer. Deepthroating never felt this good as I am making Jimin gag and choke on my length. Forget some cleaning, it's me who shall rearrange her glute with my brute cock. I got deluded from having sex with her after so long, but I really need to punish her for the past 5 years.

My cock fucking her glute now, her long neck bulging under my light grip. Her face is contorted, her breath getting ragged but the final act of her humiliation has to be more agonizing than this. I start choking her throat, making it clench around my invading cock. She tries to pull out, but I start slamming even deeper in her throat. In an attempt to breath she widen her mouth, now it's a sloppy face fuck as saliva and snot dripping on the floor together. Her eyes bulging, hands pushing on my thigh, but to no avail.

“ACK ACKKK AUGHH AGHH ACKGH AGH AGHKK ACK AUUGH SUGH ACK…” The painful sound escaping her mouth only getting hoarser after 5 min of relentless facefuck. I am pulling out to give her some air just to stuff all the way in again. Her boobs are spraying milk as expected, drenching my leg with each agonizing thrust. Her eyes watering and bulging out. Suits her, suits this sweet talking, pretty faced betrayer. “Take it down your lie spouting gullet for fucking around bitch!” I break the silence with my trash talk.

Suddenly the door behind me opens up, I look back over my shoulder and see nobody. I turn further and see our little Park standing there. Poor boy was sucking on a lollipop but now his mouth is open wide, hand going white as he is clenching the stick. He is visibly puzzled seeing how his mommy is busy sucking his daddy or rather doctor uncle’s pee pee while being completely naked. Any other parents would scramble to get dressed or hide their modesty. Unfortunately his dad is a nasty fucker so his mama getting forced to suck daddy cock is something he got to enjoy.

Jimin tries to pull out, her face pleading to stop this shameless orchestra but I press her head completely on my cock, my entire length is now into her throat and gullet. “Umma doin… waat?” Puzzled Park starts walking to his mom who is choking and retching, getting impaled by dad’s cock. “What are you doing here son? Where is your auntie Eunha?” I ask him, my hands keep Jimin’s head stable as I am busy face fucking her head with short but powerful thrusts. “AUGH AGHH ARGH AUGG AUGH AGHHH…” Jimin’s eyes close shut to escape such shame, mouth struggling with gag reflex.

That's good for nothing bitch Eunha, can't even handle a child for a few hours! Whatever, I am not stopping my sex for even my parents so my bastard son can wait. I pull out, letting Jimin answer her son. “AUGHH HAAA AH HAA HA… GO AWAY PARK… Umma is getting a little surgery and my throat hurts so appa I mean doctor uncle is injecting medicine down umma's throat go aw…” In one breathless breath she tries to convince park to go away. But I don't have time for such foolery, so down mommy Jimin’s throat I go!

Little Park is now sucking his lollipop copying the motion of my cock. Imitating how her mommy sucking daddy's lollipop. Jimin’s eyes tearing up seeing her boy losing his innocence, she is slapping my thigh and in her last attempt clench my balls to make me stop. “Ok ok, let's wrap it up.” I assure her and then start choking her neck like before, increasing the pressure around my cock. Then I give some all out all in thrust and end up cumming deep in her mouth. Jimin has no option but to drink all of it. Her eyes lock mine, her mouth obscenely bulged with my cock in it.

Little Park got hungry, him trying to drink mommy's spraying milk shows it clearly. Once I stop the hump, he sits between my legs and latch on mommy’s left areola, suckling like nothing happened. Jimin's hand presses her boy's head on her mommy udder in an attempt to stop him from seeing anything, her eyes locked with mine, pleading to me to do something about it. “If I pull out now then he will ask you to suck him later. Let Eunha come and take him, I am sure she is searching for Park.” I assure Jimin, my hand caressing her abused hoe head that sucked a lot of men so far.

Thinking about it, how my lover is sucking my milk while her son is sucking her milk makes me feel so hot. This is such a twisted family reunion. In my last act of humiliation, I try to open my bladder and try to piss straight down her food pipe, but it's taking an effort as I have just cummed. Jimin's eyes go wild, she is again glaring at me but with a frantic expression. “What? I can't keep it in anymore. Drink all of it or Park getting showered with daddy piss!” And this time I can open my bladder easily. My hot, yellowish, dehydrated from physical activity and smelly piss with semen mixed in it straight going down her food pipe.

Jimin's trying her best to drink my piss despite having a disgusted face. I grab her head and jaw to keep her head steady. Thinking how Park getting showered with piss won't turn out to be good, I am trying to piss slowly. My hip slowly pumps her mouth to enjoy some extra stimulation. Eunha suddenly appears from who knows where and immediately bow down saying, “I am sorry master… sir, an emergency patient came so I left him at my chamber. Came 5 min later and he was gone. I didn't think he would come back for his mom. Sorry for interrupting your intimacy sir!” She quickly pulls Park and lifts him up, “Let's go boy, I’ll let you suck mine,” and immediately leaves the room.

I let go all together, now piss starts gushing out her mouth and nose as she starts coughing violently. I pull out, letting her breath some badly needed air. “Y-YOU BASTARD AUGH AGGH AUGHH…” She tries to vomit but I choke her, “It’s your punishment for betrayal bitch. Throw up and I’ll lock you up for a week and rape you every day!” She looks at me with helpless tearing eyes, her lips trembling with an influx of emotion. I grab a fistful of her hair and yank her head back, “I love you and that's why letting you go. Or else…” I loudly slap her boobs a few times, leaving a few red marks around.

I threw her head back. I didn't notice early but she actually orgasmed and pissed herself when little Park was sucking her, maybe when I started to piss. Now she is sitting on her own piss, helpless and clueless on what to do. First I fucked her badly, tortured her on physical and mental level and now she can't even dress up getting soaked in piss. I collect her limp body and take her to the shower hidden behind this room and tell her to clean up. With a weird look she sees me, unable to understand how I can care for her and want to destroy her so much at the same time!

It takes Jimin 20 min or so to clean herself taking a shower. I mostly use that hidden bath to clean myself after taking special care of my patients. She calmly dresses herself, then goes out to my chamber and puts some light makeup on her face. She brought the hair dryer I had in the bath with her, using it to dry her hair. “Bring little Park here, I am going now.” Her face is cold and voice stoic as if nothing happened. What a drama queen! I lean and try to touch her cheek but she smacks it away. “YOUR CHECKUP IS OVER! Now I am just your patient and nothing else.”

“Heh, look at you acting so tough. Even a moment ago…” I can't finish, she stands and looks at me eyes to eyes, “That's our last. Do you really think I'll be back for more? I can have any number of men as I wish!” She looks stern, but the little tremble in her eyes tells me she doesn't mean it, she doesn't want to mean it. “Come back to me, my love! If you can have my childs, then those childs deserve their dad!” She scoffs, “Come back to YOU? A freaking doctor who rape his senseless patients?”

“You are no better YOU WORTHLESS BITCH!” I shout and squeeze her free hand, it goes white under my pressure. Her eyes tremble further, almost a droplet of water forming at the corner of those beady eyes. “At least I had no choice in anything! You? You do it willingly!” She hisses back with a low deep tone. “You had no choice? Bitch you FUCKING BETRAYED ME! You are getting used like a toy for that. I am… I am just lost without you!” I can't clearly tell her that once I lost her, I had no interest in any more relationships. My patients, my playthings are just a merry distraction!

A distraction from the pain that… that she isn't mine! That I can't see my son, that I could have a loving family… that… that they robbed me off. Now we are both broken! I let go of her hand. She put the dryer on my table and took a glimpse of herself in the decorational mirror I had in one corner. “Jimin, you aren't any better than me. Let's agree on that.” She doesn't look at me, ignoring me on purpose. “Divorce Park, I have connections in high places now. We can have our son's custody. Let's start ov…”

Suddenly Eunha came in as I pressed the bell early to summon her. Little Park holding her hand. His other hand grabbed a small box of candies, chewing one. “I am sorry again for before sir. Here is your… Madame Park's son. Please have a safe trip back home.” Jimin's jaw clenched and eyes burning, she looks at me furiously, “Why don't you broadcast it on TV already? Just ruin everything and everyone!” I answer her nonchalantly, “Eunha is my obedient slave. Don't worry, she doesn't betray like a certain someone.” Jimin rolls her eyes and snatches Park's hand from Eunha.

Before she gets out of my chamber swaying that ample ass and tiny waist, grabbing our son's hand, I ask her, “And your answer?” Jimin stops, stays still for a moment and then shows me her middle finger! How dare she… Then she leaves, my love leaves like how she came a few hours ago. Today is the happiest I have been in the last 5 years. Little Park waved his hand unlike his mom though, even a fucker like me felt happiness seeing his son's small hand waving at him.

I look at them from above, it's evening already, the crimson blue dawn sky whistling the end of the day. A girl wearing a luxurious black designer suit, shorter than Jimin in height, has come in a different car. That's Ning Yizhou, bastard Park's secretary and personal cumdump. That shorty bitch knows Park's every secret and is among the most trusted. Basically like my Eunha here, ready to do anything for her master's whim. Except Ning is tougher, stronger and sharper. With a stern look she opens the car door and asks Jimin to get in. More like an order, Jimin silently obliges. As if Ning has more authority than her.

Ning also looks up at my chamber, though she can't see me through this one sided glass. I lick my lips, Ning do looks fucking delicious! Damn, if anything Park got taste in choosing perfect hoes to fuck. Ning gets in the driver's seat and they leave. I sigh, it's exhausting that I can't keep Jimin to me now. But at least I have got what I wanted. The confirmation that Jimin still loves me, wants me, craves me, dreams about me. I know, her eyes and subtle expressions cleared it all up. And as long as Jimin wants, I can win the upcoming war I am going to wage.

You just wait for it, you damn Park! Everything you own, be it your fortune or your womans, WILL BE MINE! “Your chemistry with madam is so dramatic master. You both care about each other but still act like…” I grab Eunha's mouth and squeeze it, “Why did you let my son come inside?” “I didn't master, trust…” I clench harder, “Drop the act whore! Jimin didn't like it a bit. Why?” Eunha's eyes sparkled with sultriness, “I wanted to come and see how you two were enjoying it master. I felt so horny…” Sigh, while it's true this bitch is my most loyal, it's also a pain that she only understands sex and nothing else.

“Do you want it that bad, you cheap slut? Huh? Should your master just open a glory hole for you in the patient waiting room?” I tease her, my hands are busy slapping her face and busty boobies over her apron. “Yes master, yes, please! A glory hole would help when you are busy with others! This cumdump had a hard time waiting for your cock… You saved so much cum for madame these weeks… I can't wait anymore master! Please, fucking kill me!” Her tongue lolling, asking to get abused like the worthless slut she is!

The Viagra effect in my body still has an hour left of action. I put two fingers in her mouth and my other hand choked her, “Get on your four you onahole. Your master wants some meaty pussy and fatty ass message for his cock.” Eunha doesn't waste time and immediately gets on her four on the sofa at the other side of the room. I lock the door, then get behind her. She can't even touch a dildo without my permission, she is that well trained. She didn't get fucked by anything for a while, poor bitch! So let's end her agony. I bury my cock in her big ass in one go, her painful moan is something that lifts my mood anytime, anywhere.

Half an hour later Eunha is panting, I have dumped my cum on her face, titfucking those big milkers. If only she could produce milk like Jimin… I should have titfuck Jimin when I had the chance. Damn, I shove my cock back in Eunha's meaty pussy once more, humping to get another erection.

Yes, I am going to make Jimin mine. Ning Yizhou, you will spill all of Park's secrets soon. I'll fuck all of it out of you. But for now my trusted slave Eunha should suffice. What an optimistic evening it is!

END... Fuck you until next time 🖕

(And don't forget about Ning's smut idea! What, Where and When Secretary / Cumdump Ning should get fucked?)

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catscidr · 9 months ago

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// taking care of your dogboy (hsr edition!) //

i. note — sry i havent been posting yall i got a job + ive been working on three cosplays at the same time bc my local con is coming up lmao (´ཀ`」 ∠) however the brainrot never stops. it only takes a break. a little break of approximatively. a month. ish. ......... anyways dog hybrid hsr boys brainrot !!! lmk if we want more of this with more boys •ᴗ• comments and asks are appreciated hehe ii. includes — blade, gepard, boothill and gn!reader iii. cw — slice of life stuff turning into smut, possessive behaviour, overstim, slight dom/sub dynamics, real messy stuff, manhandling. use of the word "hole" to keep reader gender neutral iv. wc — 1,9k

blade is a mutt riddled in scars and dirty bandages from living on the streets and fighting to survive.

you think he might be some german shepherd mix, but he refuses to let you swab his teeth n gums for a dna test (last time you tried you narrowly avoided a punch to the face. he apologized in his own way afterwards), so whenever people ask, just say he’s a rescue to avoid revealing that you actually just… don’t really know what breed he is. they usually drop the subject and simply go on their merry way, seeing as he wasn’t the type of pup to appreciate affection from strangers anyways– it’s rare for you to leave the house in the first place, though.

you had to switch to a remote job because blade is just so persistent when it comes to you. although possessive is a much better descriptor, because he doesn’t let anyone near you. whenever you leave to get groceries he ends up practically breathing down your neck from how close he gets— acting as if he were your literal shadow— glaring at everyone that gets too close to you. you’ve made it a habit to always go to self-checkout lane so blade doesn’t scare off the cashiers.

the second you get home he’s all over you, determined to rid you of that outside stench and replace it with his own. you started packing your grocery bags in a way that nothing will break if (read: when) you suddenly drop them on the floor, all because you’re so familiar with blade’s impatience.

he holds you still by engulfing your body with his, knees caging your hips as he grinds into you, shallow and deep. blade’s growls and huffs fill your ears just as much as his cock fills your hole, his knot kissing your tightness from the outside.

“do you like this? like how i have to fuck you every time you decide to go outside again when you could stay here,” with me blade omits, his tail swishing back and forth on the bedsheets behind him, the sound just barely grounding you to reality.

your grocery bags were long forgotten on the foor (as they usually are), your mind too foggy to function. clawing at the sheets, you try to crawl away from blade’s grip— to no avail.

he tuts, craning his head to bite down onto the skin where your shoulder meets your neck. “i might just need to mark you for extra precaution,” he bucks into you, knocking the air out of your lungs. you hear squelching, the constant plap! plap! plap! from his thighs smacking against your ass and whine, broken babbles leaving your kiss-bruised lips.

“b-blade, y’can’t- ah,” he shushes you by plugging you full of his lengthy cock, his knot almost threatening to press inside of you. you whimper, feeling lightheaded from a mix of both nervousness and arousal.

he soothes the hickey he left on your neck, licking it languidly as he stills to bask into the way your hole throbs around him. warm and tight and oh so tempting.

“shit, wanna fill you. wanna… have everyone know they can’t have you. you’re mine, mine to love ‘n mine to fuck,” you’re not lucid enough to process his thinly veiled confession, too busy writhing your ass back against him in a feeble attempt to get him to continue moving.

you might want to invest into some good concealer or into those skin coloured tattoo patches to cover the bruises and bite marks blade’ll leave on you if you want to continue being a functioning member of society. you can’t really be walking around in public as if a dog had just mauled you right before you left the house, can you?

gepard is a golden retriever because of COURSE he is. similarly to blade, he likes to invade your personal space a lot— not because he’s possessive, but because he’s extremely protective of you.

the random bruises you used to randomly notice on your body faded as soon as he came into your life. gepard’s soft, lingering touches healed them; gently placing a hand on your hip before you bump into sharp furniture so it doesn’t hit you, redirecting your head to his shoulder as you nod-off in the train before you bang your head, and so on.

it’s a full-time job and he’s working 24/7, always on the lookout for anything that could possibly hurt you as you saunter off… wherever, without a care in the world— because he took care of everything!

he would clean the apartment for you, cook (though you usually insist you do the cooking; a human doesn’t have the same taste in food as a hybrid), and even act as your own personal alarm clock. gone were the days of being woken up by loud, blaring beeping. gepard woke you up with forehead kisses instead, making your mornings much more pleasant.

but poor geppie, he’s always taking care of you; so take care of him, won’t you?

every so often you’ll sit in his lap to help him get rid of whatever stress he held in his body. your hands will knead at the muscles in his broad shoulders, all while you simultaneously kiss away the strain in his face. his brows are furrowed as you do your best to soothe his muscles; you never forget to smooch his cheek, nose and the corner of his lips.

though the attention and gentle acts of affection always ends with your hands lower than they should be.

“ah ah, no touching, remember?” you murmur in his ear playfully. you had been at it for what felt like hours; gepard’s cock and abdomen was smeared with the remnants of his cum, skin tacky from his previous loads. your hand shows no sign of stopping, not even when he begged oh so sweetly.

“c-come onn. just… jus’ wanna kiss…” and who were you to deny your sweet boy? your lips find his in a heartbeat, his tongue swiping over your own sloppily as he breathes you in like a depraved man.

the only condition you had when you did this was for him to keep his hands to himself— at least until you both decide to move on to something else. until then, his fists clench the sheets beneath the both of you, and his ears stay flat on his fluffy head.

“i’m… i’m close again, g- aah, please, please…!” he begs, cock weeping precum as you continuously jerk him off. you smile, absentmindedly rocking your hips to the rhythm you held him prisoner to— gepard was too engulfed in the warmth of your hand to notice, anyways. “cum whenever you want sweet boy,” you purr, and he keens as he buries his face in your neck, his hips lifting off the bed ever so slightly as they meet your hand and he thrusts, riding the high of his orgasm.

sticky cum coats your hand for the nth time; you relent your grip on his cock for his sake, instead choosing to shower him with chaste kisses all over his face. gepard whines, taking ahold of your waist weakly as he breathes into the crook of your neck.

“geppie, your han-“ he cuts you off, swiftly switching positions so you’re now laying on your back as he hovers over you, chest rising and falling quickly, catching his breath from the intensity of his orgasm. gepard’s tail wags slowly behind him as his hands creep up from your waist to your chest just as slowly- you feel his cock harden against your pelvis, precum spilling from his pinky tip.

“‘ts my turn now,” he huffs, leaning down to nip at your neck.

boothill is the most obnoxious dalmatian hybrid you’ve ever seen (not that you’ve seen many, or at all). but he’s made your life so fun so you can’t be too mad at him

he’s always dragging you out of bed to go do something— could be going to the park nearby or sit in the living room playing video games on your dusty console, it doesn’t matter because he’ll MAKE you step out of your cozy nest!!

you’re glad he’s friendly, because you’re not sure how you would handle such an excited hybrid when you left the house. people come up to the both of you to chat and he indulges their questions, essentially leading the conversation (while you stand there awkwardly, not knowing what to say).

boothill is also great with kids, unexpectedly. 9 times out of 10 when you go to the park he ends up playing with someone’s child, bright smile on his face as he messes up their hair with a rough hand. they’ll throw a frisbee for him to go catch and he’ll do it happily, or he’ll even… teach them how to beat people up.

(you stare mortified as he teaches a little girl how to throw a proper punch only for her to then punch her parent when she leaves boothill’s side. you go up to them and apologize profusely, forcing boothill to bow with you.)

he also loves to help you out, even though he’s not the greatest at household chores— but he definitely tries! though he is a stellar cook, which never fails to surprise you whenever he’s on dinner duty. he just… really sucks at everything else.

it’s… mostly because he just has so much energy. he sweeps the floor? nope, he’s picking off the pieces of the broom off of the floor because he accidentally broke it. he’s fixing your bed? nuh uh, you’re throwing out the ruined bedsheets because he accidentally tore them to shreds somehow.

so, with all of these accidents happening because he’s just brimming with energy 24/7, you started purposely exhausting him. or, rather, gave him the green light to exhaust you until he tires himself out.

“booth-aah, w-wait, you’re being too…!” you fall over on top of his hard chest, keening at the new angle his cock reached inside of you. he repeated his assault on the spot that made you see stars as your jaw gaped, broken moans leaving your lips.

“don’t tell me y’re tapping out.. haa, already!” boothill grunts, his grip on your hips tightening. he throws his head back with a loud moan, abs tensing as he nears yet another climax— the 5th one of the night. maybe, maybe not. you lost count after the third one.

you bury your face into the crook of his neck, focusing on the feeling of his cock plugging you full instead of the soreness, the burn in your muscles that came from your knees holding you up on his lap.

watching you riding him will always be his favourite thing in the world, even if he always ends up fucking up into you and taking back control at the end of the night.

“gonna cu-uum…” you whine, clenching around his length almost painfully tightly, hearing his breathing hitch as an orgasm is ripped out of him in consequence to yours. boothill’s fingers dig into your ass, his hips lifting off the bed as he cums deep inside of your sloppy hole again, sticky fluid building up beneath the sheets.

you collapse on top of him fully, chest heaving against his own as you come back to your senses, slowly but surely. boothill’s ears perk up, hearing how your breathing had evening out.

“so… got another round in ya?”

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chrissturnsfav · 1 month ago

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hii! would it be possible for you do to smth with rapper!chris and singer!reader like in an argument? she's being like rlly sassy, and he's not having it.

love your work, xoxo!

⋆.˚✮ rapper!chris gives singer!reader an attitude adjustment

the music pulses through the crowded house, a steady thrum that matches the beat of your heart. lil skies’ party is in full swing, packed with people flaunting their best outfits and vibes.

you stick close to chris at first, your hand looped around his arm as you weave through the crowd. he’s glowing tonight—chain sparkling under the neon lights, his grin wide and easy, and that confident air that draws people in like a magnet.

you try not to notice how the room seems to orbit him. it’s always like this. everyone loves chris.

you’ve had a couple of drinks, and he’s been passing a blunt back and forth with his brothers. the triplets are a force of their own, but chris stands out, as he always does. you watch him throw his head back in laughter at some joke nick cracks.

you love that smile. it’s what hooked you in the first place.

but then you notice her.

across the room, leaning against the kitchen counter, a girl is staring at chris. no—staring through you, her gaze locked on him like you don’t even exist. her lashes flutter as she tilts her head, a coy smile playing on her lips. she’s doing it on purpose, you can tell. her body language screams it: the way she adjusts her skimpy top, showing just a little more skin, the way she sips her drink slowly, almost tauntingly.

you glance at chris. he hasn’t noticed her—he’s too busy talking to matt about something, his hands gesturing animatedly. but it doesn’t matter. her intentions are clear, and they’re pissing you off.

"really?" you mutter under your breath, more to yourself than anyone else. but the irritation simmers, fueled by the alcohol in your system. you can’t stop the thoughts racing through your mind.

chris turns to you, his eyebrows raised. "what’s up?" he asks, that easy smile still on his face.

you bite the inside of your cheek. "nothing," you mumble, even though it’s not nothing.

he gives you a look, the one that says he knows you’re lying. he always knows. "c'mon mama, tell me," he says, leaning closer so you can hear him over the music.

you roll your eyes, crossing your arms. "that girl over there has been eye-fucking you."

chris glances around, confused. "what girl?"

"don’t play dumb, chris," you snap, your voice sharper than you intend. "the one in the kitchen."

his expression shifts, his smile faltering as he scoffs, "ma, i didn’t even notice her," he says, his tone honest yet slightly irritated that you're mad at him for something he can't control. "m'not lookin' at anyone but you."

"that’s not the point!" you whine, your voice rising. "she’s staring at you, and you’re just fucking standing here like you don't give a fuck."

chris runs a hand through his hair, looking frustrated now. "fuck am i supposed to do 'bout that?"

"you could at least act like you care!" you shoot back, your words slurring slightly from the alcohol.

"i do care ma," he says, his voice tight. "but m'not startin' a scene over sum'n i can't even control."

your chest tightens, the mix of jealousy and alcohol clouding your judgment. "you don’t fucking get it, chris. you never do."

his eyes narrow, the easygoing vibe he’s been carrying all night slipping away. "never?" he repeats, his tone sharp now. "really? that’s what y'think?"

you cross your arms tighter, trying to steady yourself. "yeah, i do," you say, the words coming out harsher than you intend. "you fucking act like it’s nothing, like it doesn’t matter, but it does."

chris shakes his head, his jaw tightening as he takes a step back, his frustration plain on his face. "wow," he mutters, running a hand over his face. he scoffs, shaking his head as he looks at the floor, "'y'never do,' she said..."

"don’t you fucking twist this on me," you snap. "i’m not the one acting dumb while some girl—"

before you can finish, chris grabs your arm—not hard, but firm enough to stop you mid-sentence. his eyes are dark, frustration simmering beneath the surface.

you open your mouth to protest, but before you can get a word out, he’s tugging you through the crowd. you stumble slightly, his grip steadying you as he weaves through the sea of drunk celebrities. your heart pounds, both from the lingering anger and the sudden shift in his energy.

he doesn’t say a word as he pulls you down a hallway and pushes open the door to a bathroom, ushering you inside before closing and locking the door behind him. the sound of the lock clicking sends a jolt through you, the tension in the small space almost suffocating.

"what the fuck, chris?" you snap, crossing your arms, though your voice lacks the bite it had moments ago.

he scoffs, a hint of a smirk on his lips as he shakes his head. he sets his drink down on the counter before he pushes you against the door of the bathroom by your waist, his grip tight.

you gasp, caught completely off guard, confusion yet something else swirling in your slightly lidded eyes, "what're you doing?" you ask as you furrow your brows, keeping up your sassy tone.

"y'clearly need an attitude adjustment baby," he mutters, leaning in closer until his lips are a centimeter away from yours.

you don’t respond—can’t respond—because the next thing you know, his mouth is on yours, claiming you with a heat that leaves no room for argument. his hands slide to your hips, pushing you harder against the door, and any protest you had dies in your throat.

every ounce of jealousy and bitterness is gone by the time chris has you bent over the bathroom sink, fucking you with remaining irritation and force. he has one hand squeezing the flesh of your ass while the other holds your face up by your throat, forcing you to watch yourself fall apart for him in the mirror.

"this what y'needed didn't you?" he snickers through a grunt, smirking at your makeup smudged face in the mirror as he fucks into your puffy pussy harder.

when you try to respond, all that comes out is jumbled and incoherent whines, your mind clouded with intoxication and pure bliss, your hands gripping onto the countertop harshly as tears of pleasure prick the corners of your eyes.

chris chuckles darkly, swiping his tongue over his bottom lip as he slaps your ass, making you squeal and gasp, "yeah, that's what i thought. fuckin' sassin' me over shit i can't control ten minutes ago, 'n now look at you," he scoffs, hissing in pleasure with a deep grunt before he finishes his sentence, "fuckin' goin' stupid over my cock like always."

thank you for reading! <3

tags: @sturnobsessedwh0re , @idrk2292 , @mattsbrat , @ribbonlovergirl , @swagalicious260 , @sturnhyyhblog , @matthewsroses , @mattsdemi , @emely9274 , @frankoceanfanpage , @ifwdominicfike , @marrykisskilled , @strnilolover , @cayleeuhithinknott , @forgottxen , @sophand4n4 , @sturnsrecord , @purpledragon222 , @faiyaz555 , @jocelyncsblog , @freakiolos

@chrissturnsfav ™

#ᰔᩚ rapper!chris x singer!reader prompt #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #ᰔᩚ rapper!chris x singer!reader #chrissturnsfav ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀིྀིྀིྀི #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets x reader #christopher sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #sturniolo x you #christopher sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo angst #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo fluff #sturniolo triplets x you

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reignpage · 2 months ago

Text

Vice President!Sukuna

Hanssen: disasters all around

Word count: 5.4k Contents: cursing, violence, alcohol use, general dumbassery at parties, references to sexual assault/harassment, bts of Gojo's '4Justice' party, misuse of ChoCHo

“Why am I here?”

Sukuna inhales deeply, leaning against the dirty brick wall, one foot propped behind him, scuffing his trainers. Between his fingers, he holds a lit cigarette, dangling precariously as he bore a half-smirk, barely there, eyes smouldering when he meets the confused gaze of his cousin.

He scoffs. “Because you owe me a favour.”

The younger man grumbles a complaint but remains squatting on the floor, legs tired from standing for so long. Having been creeping around the side of some frat house for half an hour now, he’s grown restless. Refusing to explain further, Sukuna huffs silently at the pout his accomplice is sporting.

Suddenly, a click jolts the artist awake, eyes darting to the mastermind, who’s tense and jerking his head to signal it’s time to go. Unfolding himself, Choso mimics Sukuna’s position, directly behind a huge hedge, away from street view.

A silhouette steps out from a widening door, yawning loudly as it stretched.

“Fuck, it’s cold,” it yelped, burping loudly before walking away to get into its shitty car.

Sukuna watches the car splutter away, disappearing beyond the curve of the road, and makes his move. He rounds the hedge and climbs up the stairs to feel for the door handle.

Unlocked.

“Dumbass Theta Chis,” he mutters. They never lock their damn doors.

The night is still and both cousins’ shallow but even breaths are the only things that can be heard as they slink inside the house.

Aware that he could have simply paid off one of his family’s goons, Sukuna feels absolutely no regret when, as he switches the light on, he bumps into a vase. It shatters on the ground. Choso winces, feeling bad for said vase, but nonetheless walks in, hiking a duffel bag up; who is he to feel guilty about the destruction of property?

Empty as expected, they eye the place. Sukuna scowls in disgust over the pigsty they’ve walked into; empty beer bottles lay scattered all over the floor, chairs and tables askew, streamers limp over almost every surface, and yeah, in the corner that’s undeniably used condom. The soles of their shoes stick to the floor and neither of them want to make guesses on why that’s so.

Still, they look over at the one unsoiled spot in, likely, the entire house, standing side by side. Sukuna has a smirk, eyes glinting. His cousin on the other hand is wincing again, catching a glimpse of that deranged expression on the ringleader.

How did he let himself get caught up in his theatrics, again?

There, above the grand staircase —not quite as grand Alpha Phi Delta’s, well, most certainly not as grand — hangs an obnoxiously large portrait of the founding fathers of the fraternity.

It’s Theta Chi’s Holy Grail.

But tonight, it’s the cousins’ personal playground.

With a heavy sigh, the sleepy sidekick drops the duffel bag on the floor, the rattling of metal all too familiar to him, and he gets to work. As much as he loves art and creating art, being used by his stupid cousin who sports seniority by less than a year never feels great.

“Don’t rush, Choso,” an excited snarl pierces him, and he dares not look back, already exhausted of his antics, “I want this to be just perfect.”

………………………

At the centre of campus, the night is not so quiet.

Lights are beaming and flashing, blinding the moon itself. There’s a deep thumping rocking the ground and it vibrates through every pole, every cup and every person. The Quad is packed full of people from all years and all practices, with a solid chunk consisting of students from other universities, friends of friends. Anyone who is anyone is here tonight, but who they are doesn’t matter. Everyone moulds into heap of gyrating bodies, swaying and jumping to the beat.

Huge speakers line the perimeter, and drink stations have been practically robbed. Everyone has one thing on their minds tonight and that’s to get totally wasted.

Just a hair’s breadth away from the first blade of glass, there you stand. You’re breathing out, itching at a spot on your wrist subconsciously and it’s turning the skin there red.

Your thoughts are racing. You shouldn’t be here; you’ve got a mountain of paperwork to get through and it’s against the rules and the police could come and so many things could go wrong.,

But when was the last time you went to a party?

Not a charity event or an end of the academic year staff party, but a real party, drank cheap but strong alcohol, and danced to music with no lyrics.

When was the last you had even danced?

You scratch harder.

Most people are passing by you like you’re invisible, but one or two people would smile or wave, in a rush to get into the throngs of thoughtless pleasure. Maybe this was a bad idea — it’s unlikely you’d even enjoy this. You’ve always been a homebody, after all.

A flash of black catches your eye. A figure blanketed in woven darkness is standing around, clearly anxious about the noise, the mess, the consequences. She picks up a random red cup lying on the floor and throws it into a bin.

Is that the Treasurer?

Just as you’re about to take a step towards the girl, a voice reaches you, somehow clear despite the deafening noise of inscrutable music. You whip around and almost stumble at the sight of a person you’ve been trying not to think about the entire night.

He’s in a plain white shirt, jeans hanging low on his hips, flashing a Calvin Klein band, and hooked over his fingers is his varsity jacket strung over his shoulder. Head cocked to the side as he gives you a once over, whistling at the sight of your bare legs.

You suddenly feel cold in your skirt.

“Hey, prez,” he drawls, “been waiting for me?”

Your eye twitches. Then you turn away, facing the writhing mass of bodies surging with energy, fuelled by mixed concoctions and techno beats. You feel even more afraid.

This is definitely not your crowd.

“How was the press conference and everything else?” You don’t even know what you’re saying, just feeling a need to distract yourself with conversation. It’s easy to talk to Sukuna when you’re not looking at him. It hurts to look at him. Somewhere in the back of your mind, there’s a desire to wear that jacket he’s carrying. But you don’t want to ask.

He steps beside you, eyeing the crowd just as you are.

“Nothing special.”

You nod.

Sukuna throws you a side-glance, sensing your nerves, and he thinks it’s hilarious. There’s a chuckle rising from his chest, but he has enough tact to smother it. So, he settles for giving you an elbow nudge, rolling his eyes when you glares at him.

“You gonna stand there all night or you gonna do what you came here for?”

“I’m going home.”

He laughs.

He couldn’t help himself.

The sight of you stomping away is too damn comical to resist the urge to wrap his arm around your waist. Pulling you close, he presses you tight against his chest, and whispers right in your ear, “Don’t leave before I get to see this other side of you, prez.”

You try to wriggle yourself out of it, but he only tightens his hold. Too anxious to fight, shaking like a leaf, you accept it. That’s the reason you feel most satisfied with to justify clutching his forearm, unable to wrap around the thickness of it, and remaining in that position. Sukuna’s so warm, it’s as if winter’s never going to come.

“I’m pretty sure all the alcohol’s gone by now,” you mumble.

There are a few people staring and whispering at the both of you, but he pays no attention to the gossipers. Blinking, you realise you’re swaying. Or rather, he’s swaying you to an imperceptible music, a song only he hears. It’s slow, not at all like the rapid fire of beats that everyone else is feeling running through their bloodstream.

“I’ve got a hidden stash,” he reassures you. “Don’t worry, prez. You’re gonna have fun tonight, one way or another.”

The way he says that sounds like a threat, like he knows something you don’t, and that clears your head. You push off him and snatch his jacket in one go, like it’s yours and he had stolen it from you.

Sukuna doesn’t flinch, simply pockets one hand into his jean pocket, and runs the other through his hair. It looks slightly damp, and you have to gulp to push away the thoughts of him in the shower. His bicep flexes at the movement, shirt rising to reveal a flash of skin, and a trail of hair disappearing into his boxers.

That shouldn’t make your mouth water.

With a slight shake of your head, you adorn the jacket, feeling the material slide against your skin, still warm, absolutely burying you in the fabric. Why is it so big?

“Alright, follow me.”

He’s sauntering off, long legs taking him so far in a blink of an eye. You stumble after him, meandering along the other people jumping and hooting like they have no worries whatsoever.

Sukuna’s taken you to the Life Sciences building, a little further away from the heart of the party, but still feeling the weaker waves with the random people making out against walls, or girls crying into each other’s arm. In a lab room, he opens a locked cabinet with a key hidden under a textbook. Stocked are two bottles of vodka.

You don’t ask why it’s there or how many other stashes he has, though you know you really ought to so you can confiscate them. He places the bottles on the work bench devoid of beakers or test tubes, and without warning, grabs you, the unsuspecting victim, by the waist and lifts you up onto the surface.

Yelping, you smack his shoulder. He ignores that and just lifts himself up to sit beside you. So then, there you sit, legs pressed against each other, sharing a bottle of vodka. The liquid burns your throat, and you hate the smell of nail varnish. It’s like an estranged lover, familiar but it doesn’t know your name. The instant warmth it courses through your body is very much welcomed, however.

Minutes pass in relative silence, you both check your phones here and there and pass the bottle to each other. You try not to think about the fact that you're technically sharing an indirect kiss. That's childish.

“You know,” you begin, “I’m surprised you’re a party person.”

He lifts a brow at that.

It’s quiet here. Sure, you can still hear the distant rumbling of disco and craziness, but where you are, the loudest noise is the dull thrum of the radiators. And your heartbeat, but you hope he can’t hear that. You need him not to hear it.

You continue, “It’s just, I’m pretty sure you don’t like people.”

“Oh, yeah?” He fires back immediately. “You know me so well, prez?”

Shrugging, you take the bottle from him and gulp, “I know you better than you think.”

You’re aware of how vague and ominous that sounds but the alcohol’s making it really easy to not care. If karmic law exists, then you’d be allowed this —these little jabs at his true form whenever you can. You’ve earned it. You know that, so then why does every word leave a bitter taste in your mouth?

Sukuna rubs a hand across his jaw, tasting your words and mulling it over. The lab room is lit up only by one light, just hanging a couple metres away from you. It’s enough to see the flush climbing up your neck.

“What the hell does that even mean?”

You laugh at his petulant tone. It reminds you of the frustration babies face when a square brick doesn’t fit through the triangle hole, try as they may to force it through. Opening your mouth, you’re about to make a retort, but then suddenly, shouting breaks out in the hallway, and you flinch, hand flying to grab his bicep.

Bare skin touching bare skin, it’s a feeling of utter scandal, and like you’ve been burned, you let go just as soon as you grabbed on.

“Relax,” he stares at his phone screen, “just some frat guys fighting.”

Frowning, you ask, “What about?”

The smirk Sukuna has makes your heart clench.

Rolling his piercing between his teeth, he considers his words carefully before deciding on, “Someone’s defaced the portrait in Theta Chi.”

You gasp. “No way. One of the alums on the board went to Theta Chi. They’ll be so upset.” The paperwork will be crazy, is the only thought passing through your mind. There’s a sudden lightness to your head and it pushes a giggle out.

“Weren’t the people who egged my window from Theta Chi?”

Sukuna takes a swig of the vodka, regretting, for a moment, his failure to stash something stronger. Ignoring your question, he jumps down suddenly. You don’t want to wait for him extend a hand out, or worse, grab you anyways. So, you jump as well. With much less grace.

Stumbling, you fall into him, right in his chest, buried between hard muscles. He smells nice. Clean. He really did just take a shower before coming. And once again, you’re picturing him soaked and naked and steaming and —

That’s enough.

You aren’t drunk enough to indulge in thoughts like that.

“Trying to cop a feel, prez?” His voice is gruff despite the amusement lacing his words. “You should know I charge extra for that, although I’m willing to give you a discount.”

Pulling away, you flash him a finger, and he only smirks.

“Seriously, what happened to Theta Chi?” You frowned. “I need to know how pissed the alums will be.”

He glances down at you, a dry expression on his face. “Someone painted some shit about their hazing process. That’s what Gojo’s saying in the group chat, anyways.”

Humming, you wracked your brain for every detail you can recall about the fraternity.

“The previous president mentioned that in passing to me last year, when I was shadowing him. Something about this long tradition of stripping the freshers naked and making them run into the woods? But I thought that was just a rumour.”

The man shrugged, already bored of the conversation.

You glare at him.

“This doesn’t have something to do with our conversation, does it?” It can’t be. “When you said you’d send a message.”

Surely, your vice president would have enough sense to know that a ‘message’ is just a stern talking to, and definitely not whatever the hell is going on. It would be catastrophic if this is linked back to him, and you.

Sukuna’s already walking towards the door, more interested in the commotion than the way your brain is firing at a thousand miles per second, even whilst the vodka begins to fuzz up your clarity.

“Dunno why your first thought is me and not the extremely outspoken vandal we’ve got in our midst, prez.”

That makes sense, and it calms you a little, even if it’ll still be a headache to deal with. But you can’t shake off the feeling that, somehow, he knows more than he’s letting on.

Following Sukuna, you both peek at the hallway where a crowd is forming. There are a bunch of guys wrestling each other onto the ground with uncoordinated swings and kicks. People are egging them on and recording, dodging the violence when it gets too close.

And yeah, you’re so very sure the paperwork’s going to be insane. Especially as two members of the student council will be seen in the background of the dozens of videos being taken. The headache is already developing.

“You fucking dick! Admit you broke in and destroyed our fucking picture!” A guy in a tank top despite the chilly weather yells and you recognise him as a fellow law student. Travis or something. He’s always been nice, quiet, but seeing him now as he trips over his own feet, backwards hat flying off, you realise, maybe he was just too hungover to participate in class.

“I didn’t do shit!”

Another guy throws a punch, missing its target but succeeding in pushing his victim over, but the act also drags him down. Both fall together.

“You’re a fucking liar! You drew over my great-great grandfather’s face with Pac-man!”

Someone from the crowd hollers, “Who the fuck doesn’t love Pac-man?”

“You fucking strip the freshies, you freak, a Pac-man on your ugly grandad is the least you deserve, asshole!” Someone else from the crowd screams.

And they’re collapsing back down, people try to pull them off each other but only end up getting dragged in. It’s one huge uncoordinated Jenga tower crashing down. Sukuna tilts his head, mildly interested. They’re all too drunk to throw a proper swing, one that could do real damage, but if even just one person could slip and crack their head on the floor, that would be enough.

A member of the crowd gets knocked over in the kerfuffle, distracted by something on their phone and skids along the floor with a pig-like squeal. Acting on reflex, you jolt towards the stranger, arms reaching out to pick them back up, but Sukuna grabs the back collar of his varsity jacket, the way one holds a puppy by its scruff.

You’re dragged away, to the other direction, away from the mess of drunkards, too consumed by the alcohol to realise that this is going to hurt in the morning.

“You’re just any other college student,” he scolds once you’re in the clear, “you’re not the president of the student council tonight.”

A pout drags your bottom lip down and you clutch his arm to your chest, it takes Sukuna by surprise, suspicion painted all over his face like you’re strapping a bomb around him.

“But Sukuna,” you peer up at him, “you call me prez.”

He scoffs, a disbelieving amusement wracking his body. You’re trying to kill him. That must be it. There’s no way you’re this much of a lightweight, so much so that you’d quickly abandon your integrity, and go as far as to say his name like ’S’kuna’.

Your eyes have glazed over and there’s an inelegance to your movements, little clumsy jerks and goddamn it if it doesn’t make Sukuna’s chest do that weird thing it always did when he looks at you.

How repulsive.

There’s a part of him that hopes you’ll remember the utterly embarrassing position you’ve placed yourself in, but he also doesn’t want to deal with the avoiding eye-contact and ignoring him thing you do. It’s irritating as hell.

“You’re fucking dangerous when you’re drunk, Jesus,” he snorted.

That makes you giggle. You’ve still got his arm trapped, blanketing it with his own jacket, and it’s warm, warmer than the alcohol your body’s desperately trying to digest, the foreign liquid an enemy.

“Fucking finally!” Someone yells.

It’s Gojo.

He’s marching towards the both of you, hands flailing in anger.

Sukuna rolls his eyes before he pushes you slightly behind him. “What climbed up your ass?”

“Your Treasurer, that’s who!”

And with theatrical movements he reenacts the complaints he’s been hearing, about how she’s preaching safe sex to couples making out in the hallway, shouting at people to pick up their litter, and sending him a finger from down at the Quad to where he stood on a balcony.

The last part seems to upset him more than anything else.

“Why did you bring the freaking fun police?” He directs the question at you. He always assumes you’re the root of all his problems, and well, you won’t deny that. “She’s gonna ruin my rep as the best party-thrower!”

Gojo’s a huge pain in the ass and to see him so frazzled over a different member of the council makes you pleased. You jab a finger at his chest, giggling as you mocked, “Someone needs to arrest you for being so stupid.”

When you hiccup, Gojo looks at you, horrified. His eyes dart comically between you and Sukuna like you’re pranking him, like he’s missing a big joke, instead of making it, for once. Seeing Sukuna only raise a brow in challenge, he groans, rubbing a palm down his face.

“You guys are killing me, I swear!”

And then he stomps away.

You giggle again, his lanky body looks so funny speed walking. You take the bottle from Sukuna and gulp clumsily. Some of the liquid dribbles down your chin, and you don’t care. This is the freest you’ve felt in months, hell, maybe even years. It’s as if chains have been loosened and you can stretch your limbs.

Taking the bottle away from you, he tilts his head back slightly to take a gulp too, except he doesn’t look away whilst he does it. Not a single drop goes to waste, not even as he brushes a thumb over your chin and swipes it over his own lips.

The skin where he touched sizzle.

You clear your throat, “Should we tell her it’s okay?”

Sukuna shakes his head with a devilish smirk and retorts, “You’re not the prez tonight, remember? Let the idiots fix themselves up.”

Slapping his chest and then settling on groping his pec, you slur out, “I’m never not the ‘prez’, idiot.”

“You’re just y/n, tonight,” he insists, encasing your wrist with one large hand, and stilling your movement so you can’t squeeze like a creepy uncle. “Be selfish for once, yeah?”

“Like you?”

Your head is tilted in curiosity, lashes fluttering and he doesn’t answer. Doesn’t even know what the fuck you’re talking about. He won’t deny his habit of putting himself first, and he certainly won’t apologise for it, but the way you put the question to him brings a flash to his head.

Strobe lights, warm bodies and lies.

Sukuna reels back like he’s been slapped.

He gets not a single second to process anything before there’s whooping. People grin at you two, punching the air in an expression of solidarity, chanting ‘fuck Mahito!’ at the top of their lungs. It’s fun to see everyone so friendly when most days people stroll by without so much as even a glance your way.

A guy comes up to you both, in a blue sweater and cargo shorts, doing that weird handshake men do with Sukuna and you sort of want to join. He greets you with one of those half-nods and takes a sweep of your body, a grin on his face.

“Want something?” Sukuna pushes out through gritted teeth.

The guy shakes his head as if to clear his mind before he’s smiling like a little boy again. “Just wanted to talk about our next game. Heard the team’s good but I think their defence is a little weak.”

Hearing the basketball talk, you grow disinterested.

Which Sukuna doesn’t sense until it’s too late. Because your question threw him off and he’s slacked. For perhaps the first time in his life.

So, when he glances down beside him and finds you gone, he’s cursing the heavens and leaving his teammate mid-conversation. He searches for you everywhere, trying to find an oversized purple jacket hanging off your frame, even popping into the girls’ bathrooms, ignoring the crying girls there.

“Flighty fucking woman,” he growled.

There’re still too many things he had planned for your one-night truce, too many things he wants to pull out of you whilst you’re honest. And with you, the surprising lightweight that you are, being drunk off your head, alone, the thought of all the ways things could go wrong is making a muscle tick in his jaw.

He sees Choso, leaning against a bike shed, looking up at a mural with a cigarette between two fingers. It’s half washed off; the scaffolding abandoned for the night. Sukuna couldn’t care less for the sentimental mood his cousin’s in.

“Why do you look mad again?”

Sukuna ignores that, “Seen the prez?”

The younger man tastes the word in his mouth. “The prez? The president of the council?”

Okay, apparently all the usefulness he’s capable of has been maxed out this evening. Without a parting word, Sukuna continues his search. He’s practically running. People are trying to catch his attention. Guys who’ve fallen under the delusion that they’re friends for reasons that elude the pink haired man, and girls who mostly likely wanted to put the rumours of his skills in bed to the test.

He ignores all of them, popping his head into every classroom, growing more and more agitated, and he swears, once he finds you, he’ll tie you up and lock you in a closet so you can’t run off, can’t make his heart clench and his palms sweat.

Eventually, he ends up back at the Quad, there’s too many idiots crowded in one place to see, and he’s certainly not going to attempt to sift through them all. He sees Gojo on a balcony, standing beside two figures, sunglasses pushed up over his head, grinning so brightly, even from where Sukuna’s standing, he can see all his teeth. He’s leaning over the railings, eyes fixed on something at the side. Just as Sukuna makes a step towards his direction, deciding that getting a higher vantage point would be the best strategy, a flash of purple catches his attention.

He found you.

But it’s too late.

You’ve already climbed a table, shoes next to some red solo cups, drawing many people’s attention. No one expected to see the president here, and certainly not with a varsity jacket on. Perhaps, people are worried you’re about to lecture them, to warn them about the rules and trespassing and whatever else.

Resting against a pillar, he sighs and rubs his jaw.

Apparently, drunk you loves attention. Well, he shouldn’t be surprised; you’re a great orator and it just comes naturally to you, even if you are a bundle of nerves sometimes. He decides to stay there, watching your passionate speech, arms raised like you feel the zeal course through you. The music has quietened, the, no doubt ridiculously expensive, DJ a certain frat president hired lowering the volume.

Everyone’s watching you, halting their grinding and jumping to hear you out. You introduce yourself -not that you needed one to begin - and talk about the challenging couple months, the way students turned on each other and staff showed their bias. You saw the girls, other victims, forced to cower, forced to feel dirty, and doubt themselves.

But you also witnessed the love, the support, the community. The sisterhood that carried you all to this point where the truth has made itself clear, justice prevailing because they cannot deny the bravery you’ve all showed.

There are a few people wiping tears from their eyes, guys occasionally shouting in agreement. Despite most people coming just for a good time, it seems like there really was a need for catharsis. Recent events haven’t just taken a toll on you and the girls and the lawyers, but also on the other women on campus.

Sukuna rolls his eyes.

Drunk you is the female reincarnate of Mark Antony, go figure.

Half obscured by shadows and half lit by flashing lights, he stands there, eyes never leaving your figure, jolting every time you stumble on the table, but as infuriating as it is, you’re surrounded by a bunch of guys, ready to catch you.

He’s developed a disliking of parties over the years, hating the bumbling ineptitude of drunk people, and all the drama that comes bursting from the seams of repressed idiots. Still, he attends most of them, never taking part in the chaos but often just watching.

Sukuna hates parties but this one isn’t too bad, he decides.

A notification goes off on his phone and he sees his roommate’s message — a video and a text following it.

the girl of your wet dreams is really getting the waterworks going huh?

Once again, Sukuna rolls his eyes, saving the video and ignoring Toji.

God, he hopes when he brings you back to your dorm room that you won’t throw up all over him. He can deal with carrying your dead weight back to the Northside Halls, and the no-doubt moody and grumpy you that’ll show up the next morning, dragged down by a killer hangover, and even the insults you’ll no doubt hurl his way when you accuse him of enabling you for his own entertainment.

But if you throw up on him, he’ll lose his mind.

You reach a dramatic end, thrusting your fist into the air and people follow suit, just as drunk, if not more so, and easily influenced. They clap, roaring and whooping. The music comes back on and the dancing returns, invigorated by the shift in energy.

Clambering down, feeling satisfied, you’re being shaken by the overly supportive drunk friends you’ve made within the span of the five minutes until Sukuna found you. They slap you on the back, congratulating you and saying other things that aren’t really registering in your mind.

Escaping to a quieter part of the Quad, you skip along, to nowhere in particular, and fall face first into a hard wall. It hurts and you clutch your forehead, cheeks puffed out as you furrow your brows.

Glancing up, you’re met with a stormy gaze, it’s smouldering something unyielding and threatening. But, as you squint through the haze of insobriety, you see the gentle tracing of his eyes over your frame, and then as if he saw what he wanted to see, it hardened to something much more akin to a feasting.

You’re drunker than you feel.

“You left,” his tone is calm but there’s an undercurrent of heat there. It’s accusing and scathing, and it teases at your spine.

With a shrug, you reply, “You were boring me.”

You’re a little sweaty, the running away and the standing beneath so many lights had you feeling like you’ve just done a triathlon. And when he swipes a hair off your forehead, you can only splutter in complaint when he smears your own sweat onto your cheek.

“It’s bedtime, prezzy, come on.”

His voice is uncharacteristically soft, a quiet whisper against your head as he clutches you to his chest just as your knees cave in. Your vision is spotty, and your lips are dry.

In a blur, you find yourself in your bed.

When did you get here?

How did you get here?

You’re too tired to tell, eyes drifting close.

Your desk lamp is on, lighting your room enough for you to see the silhouette of a man running his hand along your table, eyeing the piles of papers scattered there. He flips a page over, studying your handwriting and the sticky notes with random faces, some frowning and some with Xs for eyes.

“S’kuna?”

His stare snaps towards yours and it steals your breath away.

“Go back to sleep,” his voice is soft. And even whilst weighed down by the alcohol, you’re aware of how tiny your room is with him in here. It feels wrong to have Sukuna pacing the length, studying the pictures on the wall and the neatly piled laundry waiting to be put away.

You have no idea what he’s thinking, and it scares you. Groggy and still not fully conscious, you croak, “Did you bring me back?”

“No, we teleported,” he fires back, without missing a beat. “Yeah, I brought you back. I didn’t touch you or anything, so just relax.”

“I didn’t think you did,” you admit, the sentence muffled by your comforter.

Sukuna leans against a wall by your door, calculating if everything’s as it should be, and you finally notice he’s just in his white shirt, no jacket in sight.

“Wait,” he cocks his head in question, “it’s cold out. Wear your jacket.”

He laughs, it’s low, just a couple huffs really, but it’s a laugh, nonetheless. It feels like one of those rare victories. “Nah, keep the jacket. You like damn thing more than I do.”

“No. Wear the jacket,” you point to the chair it’s draped over; your arm is heavy and you’re drifting off again.

He narrows his eyes at you, but you don’t see that, breath evening out. “Always so stubborn,” he says this more to himself, walking over to your chair and snatching it with more force than necessary. “I’ll take it, on loan.”

You don’t reply.

But when he stands over you, knuckles brushing a stray hair off your cheek again, you hear him from behind the haze of sleep and exhaustion say, “You always get what you want, don’t you, prez?”

And then he’s leaving, shutting the door much quieter than you ever have. You swear as you take one last inhale, you can still smell his fresh soap and feel the scalding burn of his touch.

Both of you know you’ll barely remember any of this, if anything at all. Despite that, you find yourself hoping that you, at least, remember the feeling of being free and unburdened, even just for one night. You also hope he’ll remember what life could be like if you two got along, so perhaps he’ll ease off a little.

Just as you enter a dream state, you sluggishly respond to something that seems so far away now, the words escaping you like one last exhale before you’re dead to the world.

“I never do.”

#jjk x reader #jjk sukuna ryomen #jjk fluff #jjk crack #jjk angst #sukuna x reader #sukuna fluff #sukuna angst

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withwritersblock · 2 months ago

Text

More Hearts Than Mine - Her Family's Christmas

~More Hearts Than Mine by Ingrid Andress~

Author's Note: Happy holidays! I love you all. I hope you all are enjoying some amazing treats! Summary: Luke spends Christmas Eve with her family Warnings: nothing too bad? Word Count: 5,997 Luke Hughes x fm!reader

Christmas was a huge deal in her family. Last year, she thought it was too soon to have Luke come to her family’s party and he agreed. But this year she decided it would be best to introduce him to her extended family. He’s already briefly met her uncles and her grandparents but nothing like a full family party.

Nothing like all of her aunts and uncles, grandparents, and little cousins all in one house. How fantastic. She loved her family of course, but everyone in one house? How fantastic.

She was anxious that it was going to be a hard holiday. Not that they wouldn’t like Luke, she knew that they were going to love him. But she was worried about the never ending extremely personal questions. Especially the questions about marriage or kids. She has to constantly remind her family that they are twenty-one years old and not everyone wants to get married in their early twenties.

Luke was standing in the bathroom, running his fingers through his hair as he was trying to style it. She walked past him, pulling some drawers open again to see if there were anything else she needed to pack.

He smiled softly as he pulled his hands away from his hair. He turned on the water to rinse his hands of the gel. “Baby?” he asked softly, raising his eyebrows. She hummed as she pushed the drawers shut as she walked away from him. Quickly, he wiped his hands before he followed after her. “Baby?” he asked again. She spun on her heel and met his gaze.

A long huff fell from her lips. “Come ‘ere,” he mumbled as he wrapped his arms around her frame. He pulled her body towards him. Her entire body relaxed in his arms as he ran his hand slowly up and down her back. “It’s only two days,” he mumbled before he pressed his lips to the top of her head.

“There’s just so many of them,” she muttered against his chest. He chuckled as he leaned back slightly, keeping his arms around her. Looking up towards him, her lips fell into a dramatic pout. He leaned down and pressed his lips against hers for a second. Y/N leaned her head against his chest.

“You have me, it’ll be okay,” he expressed as he slowly dipped his hand beneath her shirt to comfort her while delicately gliding his fingertips across her skin.

“What time did we say we would be at my parents?” she asked softly.

“Eight,” he mumbled, “We should probably leave soon.”

Pulling her head back, she looked up towards him. Her lips fell into a pout again. He raised his hand up as he delicately ran his thumb across her bottom lip. “We should leave in–” he trailed off as he glanced towards the clock on the wall, “fifteen minutes,” he mumbled. That’s all the permission she needed. She took a hold of his neck as she pulled him towards her kissing him urgently.

He smiled into the kiss as he reached down and took a hold of her thighs; lifting her up in a swift movement as he guided her towards their bedroom. “God, I’m going to need you to kiss me a lot in the next few days,” she mumbled after she pulled away. Her hands found his hair, she tugged slightly at the curls. Messing up the curls that he perfected for the last ten minutes. He didn’t care.

“Whatever you need, my love,” he mumbled before he urgently pressed his lips against hers again. Her lips parted allowing his tongue to slip into her mouth as Luke delicately placed her down onto their bed.

“I am not kissing you in front of your family though,” he muttered before he pressed his lips against her jawline, lowering his lips towards her neck, carefully not to leave any marks on her body. She giggled as her hands continued to tug at his curls as she tilted her head back. Slowly, she glided her hands across his cheeks, desperate for his lips to meet hers again.

They only had ten minutes left of their car ride and she was singing softly along to the Billie Eilish song playing in the background. Luke was driving as he glided his hand up and down her thigh as they were sitting at a light.

“How’s Jasmine doing since her breakup?” Luke asked as he met Y/N’s gaze. She let out a huff of air.

“I’m just happy that douchebag has nothing to do with Jasmine and EJ anymore. But she’s good I think. She’s not good at sharing any emotions.” she explained as her gaze lowered towards his lips for a second. The light turned green and he drove ahead. His thumb rubbed soothing along the fabric of her jeans.

“Hopefully seeing you will help her,” he said as he turned down the street that led to her childhood house.

“Hopefully,” she mumbled as her attention switched towards the familiar trees of her hometown street. She missed it, a lot more than she would like to admit. “I should also warn you, my mom goes a little nuts with the decorating.” she explained as they pulled up closer to her house. He nodded as his eyes landed on the elaborate light show that was happening outside of the house. There were people standing outside, admiring the lights.

“Oh fuck,” he mumbled, a soft chuckle leaving his lips. Carefully, he parked in the small gravel part of the driveway as his eyes were still admiring the flashing light show. Her own gaze admired the lights, it was the same set up as the past few years but every year she falls in love with it more and more.

He turned the car off as he shifted his gaze towards her. She smiled softly, “Are you ready?” he asked. Taking in a deep breath, she nodded. He reached his hand over, resting it onto her cheek. His thumb glided along the warm skin of her cheek. Leaning towards her, he delicately pressed his lips against hers.

“Now I am,” she mumbled. He nodded as they both climbed out of the car. She smiled towards her former neighbors who were still standing and admiring the lights. Luke loosely wrapped his arm around her waist as they walked towards the trunk to grab their things for the few days. Reaching down, she tried to take a hold of the bags but Luke quickly took both of them before Y/N shut the trunk.

“Thank you,” she mumbled as she led the way towards the house. He smiled softly as he followed after her. She quickly rang the doorbell waiting for someone to let them inside. It didn’t take long for her sister to pull the door open.

“Thank god you’re here,” Jasmine said barely above a whisper before she walked back towards the living room. Y/N frowned slightly as she carefully stepped inside. To her surprise, her parents were sitting on the couch wearing matching red and white pajamas. “You have to tell them this is ridiculous,” she expressed pointing towards the other pajama set.

“Oh my god,” she mumbled as she began to laugh. Her dad was frowning as he was sitting beside her mother but he was happy because she was happy wearing it.

Her mother stood up and excitedly jogged around the couch to hug her eldest daughter. Her father stood up and began to walk towards Luke. He held out his hands to take one of the bags. “How are you doing, kid?” Her dad asked Luke as the pair walked towards the stairs to head up towards her room. Y/N smiled softly as she watched them.

“How’s my girl?” her mother asked her as she kept her arm around her body.

“Good, tired. Been a long day,” Y/N mumbled as she tilted her head against her mother’s shoulder.

“I’ve been wrapping presents all day, I forgot he had a game today! How did that go?” her mother asked. Y/N explained briefly how the afternoon game went before she saw Luke and her father reemerge from the stairs. Luke smiled towards her mother as he offered a hug. She smiled widely as she accepted the hug. “You feeling alright, Luke?” she asked him.

He pulled away and smiled politely towards her. “I’m doing good, thank you for letting me join you guys,” he expressed.

“Oh of course. Your brother is still with his girlfriend’s family right? If he needs a place to visit, he is more than welcome to join us,” she explained. Luke chuckled softly as he glanced towards Y/N.

“He’s all good, thank you Mrs. Y/L/N,” he mumbled as he met EJ’s gaze. He simply nodded before looked back towards his phone; a grin on his lips.

“Uncle Jonathan bought everyone these matching pajamas, so I expect you guys all to be wearing them on Christmas Day,” her mother explained as she pointed a finger towards each of her children, “There’s a set for you too, Luke,” she said as she pointed towards him before she walked passed him towards the kitchen.

Luke’s eyes widened slightly as Y/N walked towards him. Delicately, she rested her hand onto his chest. “Aren’t you happy you joined us?” she mumbled as she pressed her lips against his cheek before she tilted her head against his shoulder. He forced a tight lip smile on his lips as he took a deep breath. He loosely wrapped his arm around her waist.

“Get ready,” her father teased as he raised his eyebrows as he followed his wife towards the kitchen.

“Yeah, what he said,” EJ said while shoving his phone into his pocket, “She goes nuts around Christmas,” EJ elaborated as he shifted his gaze towards the TV showing Santa Paws.

Lifting her head from his shoulder, she glanced towards Luke. “Let’s go get changed,” she mumbled towards him. He nodded as he let her guide him towards the stairs.

After a few seconds, they reached her room. She shut the door behind them and let out a long drawn out breath. His back was pressed against the door as he watched her zip open her back to pull out a pair of shorts and a long sleeve shirt. “Baby,” he let out softly. She only let out a hum as a reply.

He scanned her frame as she took a deep breath as she rested her hands onto her hips. Pressing his lips together, he took a few steps towards her. “Baby,” he let out again as he slowly wrapped his arms around her waist. Luke pulled her back against his chest. He rested his hand onto her shoulder, as she tilted her head back against his chest. “Breathe,” he mumbled as he delicately pressed his lips against her shoulder.

After a few seconds, she took deep breath. “I am breathing,” she mumbled. He smiled softly as he brushed a few pieces of hair away from her neck. Delicately, he pressed his lips against her neck for a second. “Thank you for being here,” she mumbled.

“Always,” he mumbled before he reluctantly stepped away from her to change into something more comfy for the remainder of the night.

After several minutes, they returned to the main level of the house to see her dad and EJ both carrying two pizza boxes each from the front door. “Dad cooked tonight,” EJ said teasingly as they both walked towards the kitchen to place the pizzas onto the counter.

~~~

It was early, they were both used to waking up before the sun comes up because of school and his morning skate. They were laying facing one another, his hand was gliding along the center of her back. His fingertips grazed along her skin in a figure eight pattern. Her hand glided through his hair, twisting a few pieces between her fingers.

“How does this usually go?” he asked softly. Inching towards him, she pouted her lips.

“Everyone starts showing up at noon and then we mingle for several hours until my mother decides that we can start eating,” she explained softly, “And then we play games to entertain the little ones and then they leave to just do it all over again on Christmas Day,”

“Doesn’t sound too bad,” he mumbled as his gaze lowered towards her lips. Her lips curled upward slightly.

“It’s not too bad because we can disappear up here when we need a break,” she mumbled. He smiled as he stifled a laugh. “It’s just loud, all of the time.”

“It’ll be okay,” he mumbled as he leaned towards her, kissing her softly.

A hum fell from her lips as she deepened the kiss as she parted her lips slightly. His hand tightened on her hip as he slowly pushed her down onto her back. Both of her hands took a hold of his cheeks.

“This is going to help me a lot today, thank you,” she let out quickly before she kissed him urgently again. He giggled against her lips as his thumb rubbed against her skin soothingly. Her fingers glided through his hair as he slowly began to kiss her more urgently.

His hand began to glide up her side, her body erupted in goosebumps under his touch. His hands started to toy with the waistband of her shorts, debating on tugging them off of her frame. He waited for her to tell him no, but she didn’t. Instead, he ran his hand up her back.

After a few minutes, Luke reluctantly pulled away, softly pecking her lips as he leaned away. Her lips fell into a pout as she leaned towards him again. “If we don’t stop right now, baby, we’ll regret it later,” he mumbled as he leaned towards her pecking her lips again.

Her lips fell into a pout as she pulled him towards her again. He smiled against her lips as they kissed for a few more seconds.

“You’re right, I love you,” she mumbled against his lips.

He leaned back looking over her features, “I love you,” he whispered before he laid onto his side, pulling her body towards him. His lips delicately pressed against her shoulder. “What time do we need to start getting ready?” he asked barely above a whisper.

“Another hour at the latest,” she mumbled as she shut her eyes. He pressed his lips against her shoulder again as he ran his hand along her side.

“Perfect,” he mumbled as he brushed a few pieces of hair off of her neck. Delicately pressed his lips against her neck, slowly gliding his tongue along the hot skin.

A hum fell from her lips as she rested her hand on top of Luke’s as she glided her hand up and down his arm. Everything was always perfect when it was just them. Her back pressed against his chest and his hands roaming her frame. His lips pressed against her hot skin.

“Careful Lukey,” she mumbled. He hummed against her skin as she reached her hand up and ran her fingers through his hair.

“I’m being careful,” he mumbled against her skin, a smile forming to his lips.

“You’re the one that said we had to stop,” she explained teasingly. Slowly, he continued to kiss the skin of her neck as he slowly pressed wet kisses down; against her shoulder down her arm. He interlocked their fingers as he continued to kiss down her arm. “Lukey,” she mumbled.

Luke began to trail his lips back up her arm. Biting her bottom lip, she slowly slipped away from his grasp. “Hey,” he let out as he watched her stand up from the bed. She adjusted the tanktop and the shorts on her frame as she looked towards him. He was laying on his side, his cheeks were flushed red.

“I need to go shower before–” she trailed off as she admired the abs muscles tensing as he leaned back on his elbows. Taking a deep breath, she dragged her tongue across her bottom lip. The only thing that was on her mind was taking the remainder of her clothes off and his off at the same time. Her breathing quickened as her eyes continued to trail his frame. It never got old the way his body looked. Mouth watering.

“Before we have sex in my childhood bedroom,” she said as her voice got quieter. Luke chuckled as he covered his face with his hands.

Y/N quickly slipped out of the bedroom, leaving Luke alone in her bedroom. Lifting her gaze up she met EJ’s gaze as they nearly bumped into one another. Clearing her throat, she pressed her lips together as her eyes widened.

“It’s weird seeing someone else awake this early,” EJ mumbled as he crossed his arms over his chest. She nodded as she glanced towards the door. EJ’s eyebrows furrowed harshly as he stared towards his older sister. “Oh no, were you guys doing stuff in there?” he asked quietly, his face scrunched up in disgust.

“No!” she whispered loudly.

“We share a wall, Y/N!” he said as he pointed towards the doors.

“We weren’t doing anything! Now I need to shower,” she expressed as she walked towards the bathroom.

“Why’s that? Huh?!” he whispered as he jogged passed her towards the stairs.

“What was so interesting about your phone yesterday, huh?” she whispered loudly towards him. He spun around to meet her gaze.

��Touche,” he said while squinting his eyes slightly before he further climbed down the steps. She chuckled as she stepped into the bathroom.

~~~

It was a little after twelve and they were all waiting for the first collection of her family to arrive. She was sitting beside Luke. He was wearing a tan quarter zip with dark wash jeans. She was wearing a green sweater dress. The Her head was rested onto his shoulder as his hand was rested low on her furthest thigh. He was delicately running his thumb along her skin soothingly.

Y/N watched EJ grin towards his phone as he was typing quickly, obviously texting someone he was interested in. She was planning on bugging him about it later but there was a loud knock against the front door. Before anyone had a chance to go pull the door open, her Uncle Jonathan stepped inside. His wife, Aunt Lola, and their four young children follow quickly in pursuit.

“So it begins,” she mumbled as she leaned towards Luke and pressed her lips against his cheek. He smiled softly as he squeezed her leg. She brought her thumb up and wiped away some of the lipstick left on his cheek.

Slowly, they stood up and she adjusted the dress lower on her frame. He kept his hand on her center back as he looked down and met her gaze. “Breathe,” he mouthed towards her as he widened his eyes. She smirked as she took a dramatic deep breath.

“Oi! Where’s my first niece!” Jonathan shouted from the kitchen. She walked towards the kitchen with Luke by her side. “There she is!” he shouted as he happily stepped towards her.

“Hi Uncle J,” she mumbled as she reached over and hugged him. Looking over towards Lola, she smiled politely. Lola was always much quieter than Jonathan but they blended perfectly.

Her little cousins were already running around, bumping into everyone. Y/N clenched her jaw as she smiled politely towards Jonathan.

“Hey Luke,” Jonathan said as he offered his hand towards him. Luke smiled as he took the handshake. “You guys are killing it this year,” he said, “How’s that shoulder? How’s your brother’s face, that shit didn’t look good.” he conintued while meeting Luke’s gaze.

Luke’s mouth opened and then clamped shut quickly. He chuckled nervously as he wrapped his arm tighter around Y/N. His hand rested onto her hip. “Shoulder’s great, Quinn’s getting better; yeah. We’re good yeah,” he mumbled as he bunched some of the fabric in his hand.

“That’s awesome! I mean yeah, it sucked not having you but how about that new coach of yours–” Jonathan continued but Y/N tuned out the conversation as one of her little cousins shoved against her.

“Y/N! Come play Mario Kart!” her little cousin Benny said as he took a hold of her hand. Her eyes widened as she looked down towards him.

“Later, buddy. See if Jas wants to play!” she encouraged. Without any argument, he ran away in the small house.

Luke tightened his grip on her waist, almost as a call for help, “–That game the other day was tough, man. You were great, Jack–it was so unlucky,” Jonathan was still talking when she turned back into the conversation. Luke was politely nodding along. “Oh man, how long have you two been together? Two years, almost three?”

“Almost two years,” Y/N peeped out.

“Damn, Luke, you’ve stuck around with our Y/N for two years? Wow,” Jonathan said while laughing. He smacked his hand against Luke’s shoulder so hard that Luke nearly fell forward.

“I’m going to scream,” she mumbled. Luke glided his hand up her back trying to be soothing but he understood why she was stressed about it. “Can we disappear?” she asked softly as she took a hold of his chin and forced his gaze towards her. His eyes widened as he scanned her features.

“I don’t think we can,” he let out barely above a whisper. Y/N’s lips fell into a pout as she glided her hand down his chest.

“God, how did I survive this without you for twenty years?” she mumbled before she started walking towards the living room to see her grandparents enter the house. EJ shot up from the couch to help with the food that they were carrying. Y/N pointed towards them, letting Luke know that they should also assist.

“I’ve got these, Elijah. There’s more in the car,” her grandfather said simply as him and her grandmother walked deeper into the small house. EJ quickly jogged out of the house with Y/N and Luke quickly behind them.

It was freezing outside, there was nearly a foot of snow on the ground. But it was the first time she was able to breathe in the last fifteen minutes.

“How are you handling Y/L/N’s Christmas, Lukey?” EJ shouted as he walked towards the trunk of the SUV. Luke chuckled as he let Y/N slip away from his grasp.

“Y/N said loud and she was right, it’s loud.” he said while smiling softly. EJ barked out a laugh.

“We’re still missing Uncle Mark and his seven kids,” EJ mumbled as he took three trays of food. Luke’s eyes widened as his mouth fell open.

“Seven?! You didn’t say seven?” Luke let out while laughing awkwardly.

“By seven he means triplet toddlers.” she explained. Luke took a deep breath.

“You did tell me that,” Luke mumbled as Y/N handed him two trays.

“They’re practically seven children combined, insane little feisty chihuahuas that bite! They bite!” EJ explained as he walked towards the front door of the house that Jasmine was holding open. Luke awkwardly held the trays as he watched her hold one against her chest as she closed the trunk.

“I would definitely keep your hands up high,” Y/N said teasingly as they reemerged into the house. Jasmine shut the door behind them; practically dodging the kids and other adults.

It took another thirty minutes before Mark, his wife, and their three children all showed up. The three toddlers quickly found EJ and began climbing him and asking him to hold them. Luke and Y/N were practically glued to each other’s side.

They were sitting in the living room with a few of her little cousins playing a board game at the center of the room. Jasmine was always good with the young cousins, she was so patient. She was helping them with the game and letting them win.

“Y/N! Can you come help me with this?” her mother shouted loudly from the kitchen. She shifted her gaze towards Luke and he nodded as he glided his hand off of her thigh.

“You’ll be alright?” she asked softly. He nodded encouragingly as she continued walking through the living room towards the kitchen. She smiled towards her Aunt Maggie who was drinking a wine while watching over the living room.

She walked into the kitchen to see that the dinner was still being prepared. “Hey honey, I need you to help me with that,” her mother said as she pointed towards the unmashed potatoes. Y/N’s eyes widened slightly.

“Are you sure?” she asked softly. Her mother laughed.

“Honey, you can’t mess up mashing potatoes, I’ll keep an eye on you,” her mother teased. Y/N smiled softly as she began to mash the potatoes. “Maggie, what do you think of Luke?” her mother asked. Y/N poster straightened as her eyes widened. She continued to mash the potatoes.

“I think he’s a cutie pie, holds on to you for dear life,” Maggie said as she walked over to the kitchen happily. Y/N chuckled nervously as she kept her gaze in front of her. “He seems madly in love with our Y/N, doesn’t he?”

“Oh, he definitely is. She’s going to marry him someday,” her mother said softly.

Y/N felt a grin forming to her lips as her cheeks got hot very quickly. “Mom,” she scolded slightly.

“What?! We adore Luke, he’s perfect. Look at him,” she said pointing towards the living room.

Y/N frowned slightly as she shifted her gaze behind her to see Luke sitting on the couch. Her triplet cousins were surrounding him. He grinned as he was nodding along to the toddler babbles. Luke was bouncing one of the toddlers on his knees as the other one was showing him her shoes. He was smiling widely and replying the best way he could.

Her lips curled upward as she watched him with her youngset cousins. Her heart felt as though it literally swelled as she watched him surrounded by little kids. Her lips fell into a small pout with so much admiration. He wasn’t annoyed, just pure joy surrounded by the children.

Luke shifted his gaze towards her, he smiled widely as he pointed towards the children surrounding him. Mouthing something along the lines of they like me.

Suddenly the thought of him as a father flashed into her mind. Seeing him cuddle their own child. Swaying back and forth, a wide grin on his lips. An image of chasing after their own rambunctious toddler. Her lips quivered slightly as she continued to admire him.

Her mother spun around to look towards her daughter, “Talk about madly in love, Maggie,�� she mumbled towards Maggie as Y/N was still staring towards Luke. “My daughter has never looked like that,” she expressed.

“I don’t think any of us have ever looked like that,” Maggie said as she finished her wine glass.

Y/N pulled herself together as she looked towards Maggie before she looked back towards her mom. “What?” she let out barely above a whisper.

Maggie walked towards Y/N and the bottle of wine beside the giant bowl of potatoes. “You are so in love, my dear. You’re glowing,” she mumbled before she poured more wine into her glass. “You’re oozing happy,”

Y/N giggled as she returned to masahing the potatoes. “I’m not oozing happy,” she mumbled.

After another twenty minutes, she was finally freed from the kitchen towards the living room. Luke was no longer sitting in the living room. Her eyes widened as she panickingly looking around the house trying to find him.

She took a deep breath as she peaked through the window outside towards the front yard. Walking towards the window she saw EJ and Luke having a snow ball fight outside with all of the young cousins outside.

Lola and Bethany were filming their kids enjoying the snow with the older boys. Y/N walked towards the door and stepped outside, rubbing her hands against her arms.

Luke lifted his gaze, held his hands up in a timeout motion as he jogged towards her. “Hey beautiful, wanna join?” he asked with a wide grin on his lips, he was slightly out of breath. His nose was bright red and his cheeks and his ears looked as though they were going to fall off.

“No, no it’s okay. I’m glad you guys are having fun,” she mumbled as she rested her hand onto his arm for a moment. “Do you need a scarf, your nose is really red,” she mumbled while running her hand up and down his arm. He shook his head while laughing.

“Uh no–” he pointed towards Benny who was scooping up another snowball. “Your cousins love hitting my face but I think EJ and I are winning,” Luke said as he placed his hands onto his hips.

“Lukey! I’m getting destroyed over here!” EJ shouted as he jogged away from the six snowballs flying at him.

Luke smirked as he reached towards her. “Luke, no,” she let out while chuckling nervously. He smirked again as he took a hold of her waist, lifting her up from the ground. “I am in a dress! Luke!” she said while laughing, she gripped the ends of her dress.

The kids started giggling as they launched snowballs towards Luke and Y/N. “Luke Hughes!” she began to kick her feet forward. “Lukey, stop!” she let out while laughing as she felt another snowball hit her chest.

Slowly, he delicately placed her down on the ground. He dragged his hands across her sides quickly as she spun around and looked up towards him. Scowling slightly, she stared towards him. He pursed his lips forward as he fought the smile on his lips.

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” she muttered before she walked quickly back towards the front door. He barked out a laugh before he dodged another snowball.

He followed after her, “Are you okay?” he asked softly. She spun around meeting his eye, rolling her eyes playfully.

“I’m wet and cold. You owe me,” she mumbled teasingly as she lowered her gaze towards his lips.

Quickly, she walked back inside, crossing her arms over her chest. His mouth fell open as he bit his bottom lip fighting off a grin. He glanced towards her aunts in teh window before his eyes widened slightly. His smile faltered before he went back to the snowball fight.

~~~

The following morning, they were still exhausted. “I don’t think I physically can handle another day of this,” she mumbled as she continued to trace her fingertips along his body. Her manicured fingertips created goosebumps all along his skin. His hand glided along her back, his hand dipped beneath her shirt, feeling her skin.

“Just have to make it to tonight,” he let out as he pressed his lips to the top of her head. She glided her hand up his chest as she slowly lifted her head up from his chest. She looked down towards him. Her hand rested onto his cheek as she glided her thumb across his cheek. A small smile formed to her lips. “What?” he asked softly, his lips curling upward.

“Everyone loves you,” she whispered. His eyes flickered over her features.

“Yeah?” he let out as his hand glided up into her hair. She hummed as she leaned down kissing him delicately. “Really?” he mumbled against her lips.

“I think my Aunt Maggie’s exact words were ‘He’s a cutie pie, holds on to you for dear life,” she repeated, quietly mocking her aunt’s voice. His mouth fell open as he fought off a laugh.

“I do not hold onto you for dear life,” he let out as he glided his hand lower on her frame. She smirked before she leaned down and kissed him delicately. Luke reached down and took a hold of her thigh, pulling her onto his lap. She giggled against his lips as she adjusted the blanket on her frame.

“They also said I’m madly in love with you,” she explained between kisses. He grinned as he glided his hands along her sides.

“Now that’s true,” he mumbled before taking a hold of her neck and pulling her towards him to kiss her desperately.

“Don’t lie, my love. You do hold onto me for dear life,” she mumbled against his lips. He chuckled as he quickly rolled her onto her back. Luke climbed on top of her as he kissed her urgently. He kept a hold of one of her thighs as he held himself up with his hand beside her head. She giggled loudly as he started peppering kisses along her jawline.

“Maybe I do,” he mumbled as he trailed his lips down her neck.

“Careful, Lukey,” she let out while giggling, her hands running through his hair as he continued to lower his lips down her frame. He pushed the tank top strap off of her shoulder as he continued suck and swirl his tongue along her skin.

“Didn’t you say that I owed you,” he mumbled as he slowly trailed his lips up her neck again. His hand glided up her thigh, toying with the fabric of her shorts. Her breathing quickened as she tilted her head back.

“Lukey,” she let out breathlessly. He hummed against her neck before he lifted his head up to meet her eye. She took a hold of his cheeks as she ran her thumbs across his skin.

He leaned down and kissed her urgently, “This is all I want,” she mumbled against his lips, he hummed as he began to trail his lips down her neck. “But we cannot do this when my little brother is sleeping–” she explained and he instantly rolled onto his back. He chuckled awkwardly as he stared towards the ceiling. “He’s like right over there,” she let out barely above a whisper as she rested her hand onto his chest.

“Baby,” he mumbled while laughing as he met her gaze. “I didn’t need to think about that,” he explained while fighting a grin.

There was a loud knock against her door. “Can I come in here?” EJ shouted from outside the door. Y/N adjusted the tank top on her frame as she ran her fingers through her hair. Looking down she met Luke’s gaze and nodded slightly.

She stood up and ran towards the door and pulled it open. Dramatically, Y/N waved her hand to allow him to step inside. “Can I ask for some advice?” he asked as he began to pace back and forth. Luke sat up slightly, adjusting the blanket on his frame. Y/N nodded as she climbed onto the bed, and draped the blanket over her own lap. Luke rested his hand onto her thigh as he began to glide up and down the inside of her thigh.

“You guys are like the perfect couple, right? I mean you guys are disgustingly perfect,” EJ began, “There’s this girl who’s perfect. She’s gorgeous and funny and smart. She’s literally the most perfect woman I have ever met and she–she likes me. Like she has feelings for me and I’ve never had someone even think about me like that and she likes me. I don’t want to screw this up and I need help on how to not screw this up. Because you two like breathe and know what each other’s thinking and that’s not normal so I need help.” he ranted.

Luke pressed his lips together, fighting off a grin as he shifted his gaze towards Y/N. Luke patted his hand against the mattress. “Listen and learn, EJ,” he expressed somewhat teasingly.

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