#his body is packed full of love for everyone
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sa1808fi · 5 months ago
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@archetypalheart you're so right
This is Rex.
Personally though, I feel like Emmet/Rex would edge more into the Pan side of the spectrum instead of Bi.
This is mostly because the dude has so much love in his body that he would not give a shit about what your gender is, he loves everyone.
But this is my personal opinion, you're free to headcanon him however you want :)
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fireinmoonshot · 3 months ago
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surprise | tyler owens x reader
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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.” 
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catscidr · 6 months ago
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// taking care of your dogboy (hsr edition!) //
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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
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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?
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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.
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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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shadow4-1 · 7 months ago
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I'm just imagining an a/b/o dynamic where the entire 141, including you, are all Alphas. Except, after a few years of such close contact something starts to shift.
You start to become an Omega.
"Why is this happening to me?" You all but wail. It hurts to breathe, everything feels like it's on fire. Your stomach twists again, painful cramps shooting white hot lighting up your spine. "Why does it hurt so bad?"
Your pack is all around you, trying to soothe you in anyway they can but it's not working. Everything hurts, your teeth feel like they're going to crack from how tight you have them gritted. The wave of pain ebbs for a few gracious seconds before starting up all over again. You whine and sob and reach out for any of your team.
"Whats going on?" Price huffs, his cool hand cupping at your face. His touch is the barest relief even as he drags down one of your lower eyelids. He tuts in an intense concern. "Simon, have you seen this before?"
The larger male drops to one knee. He gives you a quick once over before dipping his head towards yours. He presses the front of his mask to the crown of your head. Through your labored panting you barely hear him take in a deep inhale of scent.
He coughs and stands back up too quickly. Judging by his flighty gaze, something is seriously wrong. Another tremor of pain wracks your body. You open mouth squeal. It's getting so much worse.
"Simon!" Soap growls, trying to bring his fellow alpha back from whatever memory he'd fallen into. "What's wrong wit' 'er?"
"She's turning into an Omega."
Everyone in the room turned their gazes towards Ghost, even you, despite your pain. You? An Omega? But you've always been and Alpha. It was part of the necessary requirements to be a part of the 141. You'd been genetically tested, hormonally tested, and aptitude tested. You were a full blooded Alpha coming from generations of Alphas.
"There's...ngh...no way." You hiccup out, tears blurring your vision.
"That doesn't make any sense. That can't happen." Gaz adds. He rubs at your back. His cool touch soothes even more of your pain into a dull throb, but it isn't enough.
"M' n' Alpha!" You cry out in anguish, the first of many tears finally dripping down your cheeks.
Something about Ghost's words hurt worse than any pain your body was making you go through. Try as you may to deny it, he was right. You could feel your body changing, altering, breaking and bending.
"Why is this happening to me?" You wail.
"There's too many of us." Ghost huffs, he glances around at your pack.
"Why does that matter?" Soap grumbles, scooping an arm around your center to pull you up into a sitting position. "We're a pack."
"That's just it." Ghost sighs tiredly.
"I've never heard of this being 'n issue." Price butts in. He grabs your face again and brushes the tears off your cheeks. "Task Forces are fully Alpha run. They 'ave been for years."
"If what Ghost is saying is right, it's biological, Captain." Gaz huffs, his thoughts visibly racing. "Too many Alphas, not enough Omegas. It means we'd go extinct."
"But why didn't she change earlier?" Johnny asks. You teeter in his hold but he keeps you upright. He lets you lean against his chest. He smells more comforting than usual.
"It's hormonal. She's been with us almost three years now, it takes time." Ghost says. Price nods in agreement.
"I'm an Alpha!" You sob, trying wrench yourself free from the multiple men around you. "I- I don't want to be bred. I don't want to be claimed! I'm an Alpha!"
"We're know you are, Love." Price breathes softly. He continued to wipe tears away from your face with a tenderness that only makes your despair swell further. "But this is happening, and we can't stop it."
"Take me to sick bay, please. They'll...they'll put me on blockers or something! Please, anything but this! I don't want to be an Omega."
The pack looks toward Ghost but he shakes his head.
"This is you first heat. The blockers will kill you."
You scream in pain, fear, and frustration. Another wave of excruciating pain washes over you. You wrench out of Soap's grip and fall against the floor. The tile is cool against your flushed skin.
As much as you hate him for it, Ghost is right.
This is your first heat.
Your back arches off the floor. Your toes curl and you squeal, shaking, gasping, panting hot breaths. You can feel yourself start to sweat. There's a sudden gush of wetness between your thighs. Embarrassment floods you. You try to curl into a ball but your body keeps being wracked with tremors.
"H-help me..." You cry out weakly, sobbing into the tile.
Your pack seems to finally get a whiff of your fluctuating scent. All around you, you watch as one by one each of their gazes grow more and more pointed. All of you know what must be done. After all, you're an Omega now.
...and there's no going back.
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waves-against-a-cliff · 2 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
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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.
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"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.
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Hehe I'm gonna have fun writing this
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I do not give any permissions to repost my work, use it in AI, translate my work or any other thing. All rights reserved with me.
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7seas-of-ryy · 4 months ago
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I Need You | Part 1
Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8
Author’s Note: I want this to be multiple parts because I have a storyline that would feel crammed if I did it in one part! Not sure exactly how long I'll make it! Angst AND fluff!!
Summary: You've been in love with Azriel for as long as you can remember but it seems he always wants what he can't have. You want him to be happy with Elain but what will it cost you?
Pairing: Azriel x Reader
Warnings: Nightmares, let me know if I need to add any others :)
You were running as fast as you could and it wasn't fast enough. The creature was catching up to you and the second it got you, you knew you'd be gone forever. Sweat poured down your body, fear was coursing through you as you heard the monster start to... laugh behind you? It was truly enjoying the chase. Suddenly shadows started to appear, starting at your ankles then wrapping around your body until they were covering you entirely.
Azriel. He was here to save you and the relief you felt was sweet. You knew the shadows would protect you. Until, as quickly as they appeared, they began to fade away. What? No, this can't be happening. You're cover is entirely gone and the creature jumps at you. You struggle against it and scream for the shadowsinger but its no use. It sinks it's teeth right into your neck and right as you're about to die...
You jolt awake. Immediately grabbing for your neck to make sure there are no marks and convince your brain there was no actual monster.
The immediate dread of putting on a smile for the rest of the day hit you. Everyone in the IC had their own problems and nightmares, you didn't need to burden any of them with your own.
So, you got yourself ready for the day, put on a happy face, and headed down for breakfast. Only Cassian, Feyre, and Rhys were down and eating already.
"Good morning sunshine" Cass spoke with a mouth full of food.
You smiled at him and sat down with a cup of coffee, not in the mood to fill your stomach after that horrible dream.
"How did you sleep?" Feyre asked, her kind eyes watching you
"Good" You forced out and Feyre's eyebrows rose at the clipped word. Rhys and Cass were now watching you as well.
"Uh I was thinking of going out today, maybe try out the new bakery that opened up." You said quickly, hoping they wouldn't notice you trying to change the subject.
"Oh! Azriel was just telling us he wanted to try it out! He'll definitely want to go with you!" Feyre spoke
As if speaking his name had summoned him, he walked in with Elain at his side.
"Did I hear my name?" The shadowsinger asked
"Our dear friend here was just telling us she was going to try that new bakery today and we knew you wanted to as well." Cass said while throwing an arm around you with a big smirk
Azriel's eyes lit up ever so slightly. "Ah yes, I did want to try that. I'm afraid I'll be busy for a while. Would you like to go tonight instead?"
You nodded your head with a shy smile, "Yes that would be nice. I'll meet you there"
He tilted his head in acknowledgment at you and went back to his conversation with Elain.
You had been crushing on Azriel for so long, maybe too long. For a while you'd hoped he felt the same, but it seemed his attention was always elsewhere. He's been too busy with Elain all the time so you barely got to hang out with him anymore. To say you were excited to finally get some time with him was an understatement.
You went up to your room, packed your bag for the day and left for the city. Even though you had a rough start, maybe today would be a good day... Maybe.
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dokries · 3 months ago
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sunshine
pairing: yoon jeonghan x gender neutral reader
genre: fluff, established relationship
word count: 1.1k
warnings: mentions of bruising (reader gets hurt), passing mention of alcohol (no one drinks), a kiss on the forehead, jeonghan gets called a loser lovingly, pet names (babe/baby, sunshine)
author note: this was requested by an anon! thank you so much for requesting once again, and i’m sorry that my work isn’t exactly what you asked for. i still hope you enjoy this though <3 lots of love!!
masterlist
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you probably should’ve taken up jeonghan’s offer when he texted you earlier, asking if you wanted to dropped off before he went to a group dinner with his friends.
of course, you had said no, assuming that it would be the normal amount of traffic when leaving work. to your luck, it turned out the elevators stopped working right before it was time for you to go home and you risked going down the stairwell with everyone else—no one wanted to be stuck in the plain office building any longer, that’s for sure.
however, that also meant that there were some people rushing and elbowing others aside, despite it being…you know, a somewhat steep stairwell that was already crammed with others walking down it. sadly, you were one of the victims of a particularly brutal shover and pushed towards the railing and the cold metal had dug into your body multiple times, which is exactly why your legs ache as you sit down onto the couch slowly.
you take a peek at the back of your forearm and sigh seeing the small red marks leading up to the hem of your shirt sleeve.
you contemplate changing into a shirt with longer sleeves so you don’t worry your boyfriend but decide against it, knowing that he won’t be back for a while; when it’s the whole group of thirteen, they usually stop around one am at the earliest.
you grab an ice pack from the kitchen before stumbling back to the comfortable couch once more with a sigh, turning on the tv to a random channel as you wince at the feeling of the pack touching your tender skin. you keep treating your new bruises gently, with most of your attention on the screen in front of you—it turns out you put on a random reality show and there is drama that’s way too interesting to not watch.
it’s a little after eleven pm when the door unlocks and jeonghan lets himself in, carding a finger through his long hair before he places his motorcycle helmet and keys down, his lip ring glinting in the dimly lit room—he didn’t get to drink anyway since some of the guys had to cancel, and went bowling instead with mingyu and seokmin.
he hums the song that kept playing at the bowling alley as he looks up at you with a mischievous grin. “hey, babe.”
“hey, jeonghan!” you chirp, your voice unusually high as you hurriedly hide the ice pack behind you.
he raises an eyebrow at your cheerfulness this late at night but doesn’t press it, not yet noticing your bruises—that are on full display, even though they are starting to look better—as he goes to hang his leather jacket on the hanger specially designated for it.
your boyfriend turns and walks over to where you’re sitting, placing a small kiss on your forehead as he slumps down on the couch beside you, dangerously close to the biggest bruise you have.
jeonghan smirks at the way the two women on the screen argue with each other. “wow, over a man? he doesn’t even seem to be all that.”
you nod and he smiles, leaning his head against your shoulder as the guy cuts in, taking one woman’s side.
as jeonghan nuzzles his face into your arm, getting bored of what’s on the tv, his lip ring digs into one of the red spots you had gotten earlier and he can feel the way you tense. he frowns at your furrowed brows before looking down at your arm and sighing, his face freezing. “what’s this?”
when you don’t answer, he sighs. “what happened.” he phrases it like a statement instead of a question and you roll your eyes, already knowing he would be like this.
“hannie, nothing happened, i promise,” you say and jeonghan stares at you until you begrudgingly continue. “fine, fine. the elevators stopped working so i went down the stairs when work ended and people kept pushing me off to the side ‘cause they were in a rush. that’s all.”
your boyfriend scoffs, looking out at the window before back at you, his eyes hard. “are you serious? that’s not nothing at all.”
he grabs your hands gently, making sure he doesn’t touch any sore spots and speaks softly. “i’m sorry you had to go through that, baby. next time, i’ll make sure to just pick you up and not ask in case there are jerks like that again. in fact, i’ll be dropping you off and picking you up until the stupid elevators get fixed. i’m not about to take any risks when it comes to you.”
“this really isn’t helping your ‘bad boy’ agenda, you know that, right?” you smile teasingly, squeezing your boyfriend’s hand.
jeonghan looks at you in confusion. “what do you mean by that?”
you smirk. “come on, hannie. you have the whole package: a motorcycle, your leather jackets, the whole package—even your lip ring!” you pause, sighing. “all my coworkers talk about how you seem so brooding and like a lone wolf. it’s like they think you’re the coolest person ever when really, you’re just a loser.”
“hey, i’m not a loser!” jeonghan scoffs before reaching for the ice pack behind you and putting it to the bruises he can see.
“what?” he says when you raise an eyebrow and look down at the pack in his hands. “oh, this? i knew it was behind your back since earlier. you’re not very good at hiding things.”
you roll your eyes before leaning on his shoulder. “see what i mean? loser.”
jeonghan’s eyes soften as he looks at your big grin next to his face and places a kiss on your knuckle. “there’s my sunshine.”
“hey, that’s part of the ‘bad boy’ agenda too!” you chuckle, moving away from him slightly to hit his arm lightly. “besides, i told you not to call me that it’s so cringey!”
“what, sunshine? i’ll never stop calling you that because it’s true.” your boyfriend sticks his tongue out at you before smirking when you roll your eyes again.
jeonghan then pauses before winking, his head making its way onto your shoulder once more with a content sigh. “either way, i need to make sure i keep up my reputation with your coworkers, am i right?”
593 notes · View notes
crushmeeren · 6 months ago
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Bakugou/Fem Reader/Kirishima
☠ Master List Link
Warnings; some mild descriptions of fighting/being in pain, brief mentions of blood, cursing, praise/reader is called a good girl, oral sex, mating press
☠ Everyone involved is 18+/aged up
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It’s boiling.
Fucking sweltering.
Your eyes snap open, the stifling heat stirring you into a reluctant form of consciousness. As you glance down you’re met with a face full of damp red hair that could only belong to your boyfriend Eijirou.
Who apparently has taken it upon himself to use your shoulder as a pillow.
The man is a goddamn furnace.
Of course, you’re privy as to why he’s so feverish. It’s the same burning itch that lurks just below the surface of your own skin. This past week you’ve been counting down the days until the full moon — and there’s only one left.
Plus, it’s only Eijirou’s third time dealing with his shift, so his control over his body is shaky at best. Katsuki being the pack leader, has much more experience and insight dealing with the shift than you, which is why you’ve all made sure he’ll be home tomorrow night to ensure it goes smoothly.
Groaning, you unstick yourself from the entirely too sweaty body clinging to you, nose scrunching in discomfort as you unwind the hefty weight of Eijirou’s arm from your waist and untangle your legs.
You shove at Eijirou’s shoulder, mumbling for him to get his heavy ass off, but man doesn’t stir. He softly sighs and turns over to face the wall. Your limbs are sluggish with sleep as you push up onto your elbows, then up until you’re sitting on your butt. You kick off the suffocating covers and lean backwards onto the headboard in hopes for better airflow to cool off.
It would be unbelievably helpful to have Todoroki’s quirk right now.
You decide to study the room to distract yourself, admiring the way the moonlight has bled in. It playfully illuminates certain shapes as you bask in the peaceful stillness of the night. It’s a good thing the darkness doesn’t hinder you either way, seeing as your eyesight is just as sharp in the night.
What with your…..condition.
Using the back of your hand to wipe the sweat off of your forehead your thoughts trail to Katsuki, curious as to how his patrol is fairing. You lean over and tap the screen of your phone where it rests on your side table. The light from the screen is on the edge of blinding, making you wince and partially shield your eyes.
Why the fuck do I keep it so bright?
You fumble to put it in dark mode, reading the last vague and aggressive message Katsuki sent.
Katsuki 🧡
“I’d rather chew off my own motherfucking arm than be on patrol with icy hot right now.”
A startled bark of laughter pushes past your lips. Eijirou shifts restlessly behind you, but you pay him no mind. He tosses and turns frequently in his sleep this close to shifting.
You read over the text again, knowing Katsuki doesn’t mean that. He and Todoroki are fairly decent friends these days, much to Katsuki vehement denial. It takes not time at all for you type out a reply.
After setting your phone down and scooting underneath the blankets, you promptly flop onto your back in an attempt to get comfortable. You debate whether or not to cuddle up to Eijirou, but decide against it. Waking up drenched in sweat does not appeal to you.
As you start to drift off, the rhythmic lull of crickets outside your window helps your mind quiet once again. Your lids start drooping as your breathing begins to even out.
Crack.
You blink a few times in rapid succession, instantly on guard. You stay completely still, ears twitching and listening for the familiar sound.
Crack.
A blistering chill rushes through your blood as you recognize the unwanted tell tale sound of bones breaking.
Crack. Snap!
Your pulse jackrabbits so violently your heart may bruise your rib cage.
Please for the love of God don’t let this be what I think it is. The full moon isn’t until tomorrow night!
Eijirou suddenly cries out. A keening, wounded noise that’s wrenched from the pits of his chest.
Before you can register it, you’re sitting up straight, spine stiffening as you turn and watch Eijirou with mounting horror.
It’s not unlike witnessing twin snakes slithering, shifting urgently as Eijirou’s own spine breaks and rearranges for a body that’s far less human.
“Ei,” you whisper frantically, by his side in an instant. Your chest squeezes, adrenaline forcing the hair on your arms to stand on end. You shake his shoulder roughly, brushing the hair that’s sticking to his forehead away with your free hand. “Eijirou.”
He whines a jumbled version of your name before going stock still and you freeze alongside him, hyper aware of your shuddering exhales. A sickening dread settles over you, stomach dropping as you listen to Eijirou’s newly forming claws rip and shred the sheet next to him.
A low rumble starts up in his chest, slowly clawing its way up to emanate from his throat. Your stomach knots up realizing it’s too late for you to help him keep even a sliver of coherence through this.
Your fingers unwillingly twitch where they’re tangled in Eijirou’s hair. His growl intensifies, a stiff warning embedded in it. Your hands shake as you carefully shift your gaze down to his side profile, catching the untamed fury twisting his features.
It’s abhorrent and unnatural the way it replaces his normal cheerfulness.
The sudden fierce instinctive urge to fight Eijirou knocks around inside your mind so roughly you get lightheaded. Eijirou’s already side eyeing you menacingly, his iris glowing a pale yellow rather than the cherry red it usually is.
There’s a few seconds of silence, tension suffocating as you weigh your only two options.
Fight or flight?
With no hesitation, you lunge towards the side table closest to you and barely manage to grab your phone as you start launching to your feet to get away.
Eijirou’s claws sink in brutally, taking a decent chunk from your outer thigh as you skirt out of his deadly range. The explosive searing sensation of your flesh ripping wrenches all the air from your lungs, crimson spraying all over the otherwise pristine sheets as you stagger upright to your feet.
You whip around with a snarl that bounces off your bedroom walls, fury making your entire body flash white hot. The instinctual pulse to return the favor and give Eijirou a nasty scar is all consuming and you know your own eyes are flashing yellow.
Eijirou leaps towards you without missing a beat and you all but sprint through the door, slamming it shut and twisting the lock right as the redhead rams into it.
It locks from the outside for a reason.
You stumble forward, struggling to ignore the borderline unbearable pain lancing through your leg and place a hand on the couch to steady yourself. Your mind races, warm liquid trailing from your wound down your leg and pooling between your toes. You want to gag.
You can’t fucking think straight.
You squeeze your eyes shut as you take a singular fortifying breath as you clench your phone in a fist. The sides start to give and it reminds you not to obliterate the thing, as well as why you snagged it in the first place — to text Katsuki so you have a chance in hell of coming out this night alive.
With trembling hands you text the blonde a short yet urgent message.
Eijirou is shifting. 911. Hurry.
A deafening bang makes you jump a foot into the air, nails automatically sharpening into points. You chance a peak at the door, fear prickling at the base of your skull as the behemoth on the other side splinters it down the middle.
You briefly recall when Eijirou turned 21, shifting for the first time. It was only a mere three months ago. He was the last one out of the three of you to do so, but he wasn’t as violent as he is now.
It was messy and there were a lot of tears, but you’d trade this scenario for that one in a heartbeat. Shifting is always erratic in the beginning, but you were sure Eijirou would be the more laid back type.
Apparently not.
You shake your head to clear the unhelpful memories when Eijirou’s frustrated howl cuts through them. You glance at the front door with a scowl deciding you can’t very well go outside and take a half shifted, out of control werewolf into the neighborhood.
You’re not even wearing any damn pants.
You veto the forest as an option as well. Mainly because Katsuki will inevitably find you and Eijirou torn to pieces before the sun rises.
Steeling your resolve, you submit to the fact that you’ll have to put up as much of a fight against Eijirou as you’re able to until Katsuki saves you.
The deep gashes in your thigh scream in protest when you shuffle behind the coffee table, placing the couch and it between you and the door. You preemptively mourn the loss of your phone and toss it aside, bracing yourself in a defensive stance.
Bam! Bam! Bam!
Any second now.
The door is on its last legs.
One more heave and it splits entirely, debris flying in all directions. Eijirou forces his body through the opening, face distorted, half shifted with claws and fangs to match.
He snarls furiously when his gaze lands on your defensive form. You return the sentiment, making him aware you’re challenging him.
The icy sensation of fear continues to rush through your limbs, mixing dangerously with a barely suppressed fury that you’re unable to ignore.
You curse any and everything known to mankind and pray you’re able to keep him contained until Katsuki arrives. You bite the bullet and take a running start towards Eijirou, sidestepping the coffee table. You’re hell bent on getting the first punch in.
His reflexes mirror yours.
He uses the backrest of the couch to jump and propel himself at you like a shot and the collision is excruciating. One of your ribs has cracked from the force — you’re sure of it.
Eijirou’s got enough weight on you that the impact sends you both careening backwards, slamming onto the coffee table before rolling off with a thump as you connect with the ground. Eijirou crushes you when you land and you shove a palm into his cheek and wrench his head to the side.
You desperately sink your teeth into the muscle where Eijirou’s neck meets his shoulder, hoping the pain will allow him to snap out of it. He wails, the sound distorted from mutating vocal chords and thrashes in your grip. You tear yourself away and shred his flesh in the process.
The metallic scent chokes you. There’s blood splattered everywhere, and your brain is starting to get fuzzy a long the edges as you lose yourself to the wolf.
Somehow, you’re able to tuck your feet under Eijirou’s stomach, pressing into the firm muscle there and sending him flying. You scramble to your feet, crouching low. Your upper lip raises to bare your teeth, aiming a violent snarl at Eijirou and the red head is on his hands and knees in an instant.
You’re royally pissed — and simultaneously terrified.
You don’t want to endure this atrocious situation any longer than absolutely necessary. So, you suck much needed air back into your lung, chest heaving and eyes fluttering shut before refocusing on Eijirou with intensity.
Like a mantra, you repeat to yourself just survive until Katsuki is here. Just survive until Katsuki is here.
You and Eijirou once again morph into a mess of blood and punches and viscious bites, hanging onto your consciousness by a thread.
✃ ✃ ✃ ✃ ✃ ✃
Your head pounds. It wickedly throbs in time with your heartbeat, and your brain seems to stick to the insides of your skull.The wind whistles softly around you, tickling your skin and you realize you’re outside. Naked.
Peeling your eyes open, the cloudless blue sky burns as it peaks through the tree tops. You blink a few times to clear your blurry vision, shifting slightly on your back.
You’re positive you must’ve been run over by a truck. The all over bone deep ache is proof by itself.
Sighing, you concede to the soreness that begs you to keep lounging on the ground. Your joints creak when you bend your elbow, you brush over the close to healed claw marks on your thigh. The wound smarts, a searing heat flaring down your leg.
Fuck Eijirou, you really did a number on me.
You go limp, melting into the soft grass and damp top layer of soil for a bit longer. Bits and pieces of your memory spring to the forefront as you contemplate the utter bullshit you had to deal with the night before.
Katsuki appearing like a bat out of hell when he burst through the door and rescued you from certain doom. Eijirou completing his shift and settling into the form of a beautiful russet colored wolf. Katsuki’s carmine eyes aglow as he and Eijirou duked it out — until he was able to corral the other down into the basement.
Katsuki had locked the door with finality, and you knew you wouldn’t see either of them for hours.
You remember shivering with rage, bloody and damn near beaten to a pulp, pulling splinters from way too many sensitive areas. You had taken off into the woods right after, bearing the excruciating shift and running for miles as the wolf.
Now, here you are.
Naked and internally debating with yourself to get the hell up and make the horrendous trek back to your home. Honestly, you don’t want to see either of them right now. Eijirou will be distraught with guilt and it’s just —
You’re still irate about the entire ordeal.
You curse aloud, pushing to your feet at a snails pace, gently stretching and taking note of the new bruises you’re sporting.
There’s a lot of dried blood.
A lot.
✃ ✃ ✃ ✃ ✃ ✃
Once you make it back into your living room, you’re not at all shocked to see the mess from the night before had miraculously disappeared.
The pathetic remains of the bedroom door have been taken away. All the blood has been cleaned.
At least your coffee table survived the battle.
You sigh in relief. Thank God for Katsuki, he would never dream of leaving a crime scene behind. You tentatively sniff the air, the familiar scents of your partners have gone stale. They must not have wanted to linger, opting to give you some space.
You’re grateful, as it allows you time to shower and sleep.
You scrub your skin under the spray of hot water, collecting your thoughts as you comb the birds nest that has become your hair. You wince each time you press too hard on a bruise or soap stings your wounds.
Hopefully you’ll be mostly healed by the time you wake up.
A soft warmth blooms in your chest when you reach your bed. Eijirou has left you one of his T-shirts to wear and Katsuki’s favorite blanket is tangled in with the others. And one of them had found your missing phone, placing it on the charger and letting it rest on the side table.
You’re a zombie slipping into Eijirou’s too large shirt. The thinning, worn, and soft material brushes your thighs. When you lay down, you bring the collar of Eijirou’s shirt to your nose, inhaling deeply and letting the scent of fresh rainfall wash over you.
You pull Katsuki’s blanket up over your shoulders. The sweet smell of orange and cinnamon fills your senses, relaxing you entirely.
You’re out like a light before you know it.
✃ ✃ ✃ ✃ ✃ ✃
They come home late into the afternoon. Obnoxiously loud and cheerful — at least on Eijirou’s part.
Your stomach clenches as their voices grow closer.
You’ve been resting as much as possible, cuddled up and barely paying attention to the movie flickering across the screen.
You’d taken the past few hours to reflect. As you cooled off you knew it wasn’t really Eijirou’s fault, that he was just as petrified as you had been.
It’s not as if you’d never gone off the deep end in the beginning, and Eijirou was there for you. With no hesitation.
You made up your mind that reconciling with Eijirou was your first priority when they returned. Eijirou passes through the makeshift curtain door first, eyes growing comically large and footsteps halting when he spots you.
The short silence is unpleasant, and Eijirou shifts his weight nervously from foot to foot, unsure of what he should do next. You offer him an awkward, tight lipped smile, along with a small wave and his tense composure disintegrates.
Within the second he’s making haste to crawl up on the bed and get to you. All the built up frustration bubbles to the surface, stinging the backs of your eyes as you fist the blanket.
“Baby,” Eijirou breathes, voice cracking as you sit up and slip your arms around his neck when he reaches you. He tugs you close, clinging to your waist with one arm and cradling the base of your skull with his free hand to keep you in place.
You swallow a lump, inhaling against the skin of his throat deeply as he manages to make you feel safe and relieved.
“I’m so sorry baby, I’m so fucking sorry,” he croaks. You’re concerned he may start crying.
You nod jerkily, gripping him tighter. You hate the way his voice shakes as he apologizes. This wasn’t his fault and you’re determined to make sure he knows that.
“It’s okay Ei. I know baby, I know. This isn’t on you, okay?” You reassure him, voice watery with emotion. Eijirou chokes out an acknowledgement, sniffling.
Katsuki then takes a seat on the bed behind you, rubbing a warm palm back and forth between your shoulder blades in comfort. He places a soft kiss to the back of your neck.
The three of you sit there and hash out the night before, spending a good half hour at least, talking through everything. Brainstorming ways to prevent this from occurring again.
The conversation eventually trails off into a comfortable silence before Katsuki opens his mouth.
“You take off into the woods last night?” Katsuki asks somberly.
“Yeah.” Your response gets muffled by Eijirou’s shirt and Katsuki snorts.
“Well, you sure as hell look like it,” he jokes, trying to lighten the mood. It works.
You whip your head around to glare daggers at Katsuki but he’s giving you a teasing smile, nudging you playfully. You punch his stomach halfheartedly, unable to stop your lips from turning upwards.
“Whatever, dickpunch.”
Eijirou laughs, causing Katsuki to roll his eyes and chuckle at your childish insult. You study Eijirou rubbing his cheek as you recline into Katsuki’s chest, his soothing warmth seeping through both your shirts.
“So are you really okay?” Eijirou prods, scratching the side of his nose and looking away with a frown.
“I’m fine Ei,” you murmur tenderly. You stretch your leg out, showing him the side of your thigh where the marks have mostly faded. “See? It’s just a scar now, which will go away soon.” You poke his ribs with your toes.
Eijirou’s expression spells relief as he brushes the pads of his fingertips feather light over the raised pinkish skin. You shiver from the ticklish sensation, a flash of arousal burning your lower belly. Eijirou’s eyes are warm when they meet yours, lids drooping a bit when he notices your shiver.
The blonde must have picked up on the new charge in the atmosphere, because Katsuki leans in close to whisper something sultry in your ear, making you jolt.
“What do you think baby?” Katsuki hums, securing an arm around your waist. “Eijirou’s been so fucking bad, we should punish him. Don’t you think?” He suggests enticingly, acting as the devil on your shoulder.
You glance back at the redhead, who’s gone slack jawed, cheeks flushing bubblegum pink. Your eyebrow twitches as you pretend to mull it over. You trail your eyes up and down Eijirou’s figure lazily and he fidgets in place, fingers curling into the hem of his shorts.
You think it’s the perfect way to get things back to normal. You tilt your head, making heated eye contact with Katsuki. A coy grin lights up your face.
“What did you have in mind?”
The mischievous glint in Katsuki’s eye is answer enough.
✃ ✃ ✃ ✃ ✃ ✃
“Fuck! Katsuki, oh god,” you gasp, breath hitching in your throat.
Katsuki’s eagerly pushing his thick cock into your pussy, spitting out a few curses as he does so.
The stretch is delicious, and you squeeze his forearms mercilessly. Your nails create indentations as he teasingly pulls back until just the head remains, rolling his hips and filling you to the brim with one fluid motion.
Your spine arches, skull digging into the mattress below as Katsuki starts thrusting at a leisurely pace, thumb coming up to work slow circles into your clit.
At this angle, you have an upside down view of Eijirou sitting behind you, reclining halfway up against the headboard. Katsuki took it upon himself to spread you out flat on your back between the redhead’s thighs.
He taunted Eijirou with an arrogant smirk, meanly instructing him he isn’t allowed to cum until you and Katsuki do. Katsuki demands Eijirou only touch you if you initiate it first, and you agreed.
So for now, Eijirou’s pouting, settling on wrapping one hand around the base of his cock, stroking slowly as he leers at the scene in front of him. He tried to avoid splitting his lip with razor sharp teeth.
You’re able to meet his hungry gaze briefly, before fingers are gripping your chin and yanking you from the gorgeous view.
“Don’t fucking look at Ei. He’s in trouble, remember?” Katsuki huffs, a bead of sweat trailing from his temple down to his jaw. “Keep those eyes on me,” Katsuki says firmly, voice raspy and low.
You nod stiffly, whimpering when he releases you and pats your cheek just this side of too rough.
“You follow orders so well, what a good girl,” Katsuki praises, leaning back and sitting on his calves.
It’s no surprise his sweet words have your head filled with cotton. You lick your chapped bottom lip as you’re blessed with the view of Katsuki’s lower stomach flexing and his hips tensing as he continues to thrust at a perfect pace.
The blonde shoots Eijirou a nasty grin, making absolutely sure Eijirou can watch everything. Like the way the inner lips of your pussy stretch with Katsuki’s cock every time he thrusts backwards. Or the way you can tell his cock is shiny with your slick each time he pulls out.
Katsuki grips the bottoms of your thighs, effortlessly pushing them towards your chest and bending you in half. You cry out, eyes going wide when Katsuki suddenly nails your sweet spot. The pleasure blisters through your limbs, goosebumps littering your arms.
Blindly, you reach backwards, searching for Eijirou’s hands. The redhead lets out a breathy moan, quickly lacing your fingers together and resting your conjoined hands on his thighs.
“You can only fucking touch her hands Ei. Don’t push it,” Katsuki warns with a surprisingly steady, yet strained voice. Ya know, considering he’s fucking you like he’s trying to make you scream yourself hoarse.
“Yes Katsuki,” Eijirou replies obediently, throat clicking audibly when he swallows.
Katsuki presses closer, pupils dilated and jaw hanging open as he brings you closer to that addictive high. His eyebrows pinch together as he focuses on you.
Shocks of pleasure race up your spine each time he pushes his cock back inside you, the sound of your skin smacking together burning your ears. A coil starts to wind up behind your belly button impossibly tight, pussy clenching around him rhythmically.
You hold Eijirou’s hands in a death grip.
“Kat, I — fuck! I’m gonna cum,” you manage to spit out between gritted teeth, back threatening to lift off the mattress.
“Yeah?” Katsuki coos teasingly. “Fucking cum for me then.”
And you do. Muscles going taught, tension snapping as warmth gushes through you, toes curling. You can’t make out what Eijirou’s mumbling behind you, focused on the way Katsuki’s gasping your name.
The blonde lets out a breathy moan, pulling out and stroking his cock twice before he cums, covering your stomach in sticky white ribbons.
You go lax, unmoving as your legs hit the mattress. You desperately try to catch your breath as Eijirou let’s go of your hands.
“Fuck, please let me cum Katsuki! This isn’t fair!” Eijirou whines, one of his knees knocking you in the shoulder as he shifts his weight around.
You can’t see him but you know he’s pouting.
“Alright Eijirou, you can cum,” Katsuki says nonchalantly. He sits back on his calves, flushed chest heaving.
You flip over onto your belly just as Eijirou takes a hold of himself. He strokes his cock a few times, squirming with relief and you make the choice to help him out.
Eijirou’s close to peaking when you close the distance between you. You duck your head, wrapping your lips around one of his balls and suck it softly into your mouth, flicking it with your tongue. You roll the other one between your fingers.
Eijirou yelps, thighs jumping as he cums instantly, making a mess of his stomach as his breath stutters in his chest. He tilts his head back with a high pitched moan.
Katsuki makes an approving sound from somewhere behind you as you keep mouthing at Eijirou, only backing off when the redhead pushes at your forehead when he gets too sensitive.
Eijirou sinks down the headboard, blushing brightly and panting. You pillow your cheek on his thigh, eyes fluttering shut with a sigh.
Eventually, Katsuki kicks both your asses into gear, getting you off the bed and shuffled into the shower to clean yourselves off. You change the sheets because they’re “fucking gross”, — as Katsuki puts it.
As you’re getting dressed again, Eijirou comes up behind you, slipping his arms around your waist in a sweet hug.
“Everything fucking sorted now?” Katsuki asks with a roll of his eyes, arms crossed over his chest as he leans his hip on the doorframe. He eyes the embrace you’re locked in and raises an eyebrow.
“Course! Everything’s peachy,” Eijirou replies happily, nuzzling the back of your head as a low rumble starts up in his chest. You snicker, patting one of the arms holding you.
“Good, because I don’t feel like getting my ass handed to me again,” you say playfully. Eijirou laughs brightly and Katsuki snorts.
“Don’t worry baby, I’m locking his dumbass in the basement tonight.”
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2hightocare · 10 months ago
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TUTUS AND TIARAS!
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Synopsis— What Iseul says Jungkook does, besides tutus and tiaras are not that bad…
“Did Iseul lose a tooth? Why is Kook dressed as the tooth fairy?”
pairings: dilf!jungkook x fem!oc
genre: found family! married au!
warnings: just super cute fluff, Jungkook literally doing anything Iseul tells him to do, cuss words, mentions of sex.
a/n: I missed writing their lil family :( welcome Jia to the family!! I love them so much… I hope you guys do too🥹
“Let’s be honest, I look sexy as fuck.” Your husband runs his hand over his body; a snort escapes past your lips, which gets glared at in return from Jungkook who’s in a pink tutu and pink tiara he stole from Iseul.
“Not only is he full of himself, but he’s delusional as fuck as well… great.” Ari shakes her head, as you take a picture secretly beside her with Iseul and Ye Joon clapping their hands happily on your lap.
Jungkook’s Calvin Klein boxers are visible to everyone in the room; the only thing barely covering him is the very small pink tutu that his daughter put on him, and she didn’t have to ask twice; everyone knew anything Iseul wanted she got. The small charm necklace lays tightly on his neck like a choker, shirtless, his tattoos in full display, the tiny tiara sits prettily on his messy hair.
“I can a hundred percent see your balls.” Hoseok sighs, as he rubs a hand through his hair. Giving his girlfriend a small tight-lip smile, which might translate as an apology for dragging her into this little family dynamic.
Jia still remembers meeting all of you on Christmas Eve dinner; to say she felt immediately welcomed was somewhat calming to her. She usually took super long to trust someone and open up, but meeting all of you sent her a sense of comfort whenever she was in everyone’s presence.
“Okay, I feel like I need to warn you before opening the door…” Hoseok softly chuckles, which causes steam to come out of his mouth from how cold it was.
Jia raises an eyebrow, “are they that bad?” She asks.
“Nothing to be scared of; they just love really hard…” He smiles at his girlfriend, who only nods in return, slightly feeling nervous since she knew that whoever was behind that door meant so much to the boy she had fallen in love with. “And besides, they are a little crazy too…” he shrugs before clicking on the doorbell to your and Jungkook’s house.
Hoseok moves the container full of chocolate chip cookies cut into cute Christmas decorations to his other hand, then takes Jia’s hand right after squeezing softly.
The door opens as you stand happily behind it; eyes lighting up when you see the couple in the entrance. “Hi! Happy Christmas Eve!” You quickly hug Hoseok, which he returns, wrapping his arms around your frame giving your back a small pat before separating.
“And you must be Jia, you’re prettier in person.” You open your arms before throwing yourself into a hug without thinking. Without a second thought, Jia hugs back.
“Come in; everyone is already here, we’re just waiting for Seokjin and Lora.” You part away from Jia, who’s smiling back at you before following behind you inside.
“Y/n said you had to share!” A boy throws himself onto the raven boy who’s hovering over the last cookie pack; he has been hiding from everyone. “Okay and? This is the last pack!” He shouts back as they both tackle on the couch, the cookie pack flying onto the floor.
“I’ve got a hundred on Kookie; who’s in?” The blonde girl says as she chews on the cookies from the packet that they’re fighting for.
“Done betting on Jungkook after No Nut November, thousand-dollar mistake. Motherfucker couldn’t last twenty-four hours.” Another guy comes in from the back and sighs loudly as the blonde girl nods before passing the pretty girl beside her a cookie.
Jia couldn’t explain how her body and mind instantly relaxed after witnessing the whole situation unfolding in front of her; she saw how you quickly intervened, separating the two boys before giving the raven boy with a tattoo sleeve a swat before snatching the cookie pack from the two girls’ reach and walking back to her.
She watched as the blonde girl passed a hundred bucks to a boy on her right. Before turning their attention to her.
“Hi, I’m Eunbi!” The blonde girl smiled warmly, “Happy Christmas Eve! I’m Ari.” The other girl beside her says, standing up and coming Jia’s way for a hug. “We’re huggers here!” Ari giggles.
“Taehyung,” He goes in for a hug as well, “I’m Jimin!” The boy who was just hovering over Jungkook smiles softly at Jia, going in for a hug as well.
“Jeon Jungkook, extrovert, DILF extraordinaire.” He says standing next to you, wrapping his arm around your waist. “This motherfu…” You groan alongside everyone. “Here he goes again,” “He’s not allowed to introduce himself anymore.” “Can we throw him away?” All of them mutter under their breaths.
“Please ignore him; I’m y/n and I’m stuck with him for the rest of my life.” You roll your eyes as you motion to the guy beside you.
“You sure as hell are.” He puffs,
“Stop looking at my balls!” Jungkook covers his lower part with his hand before shouting, “Tae come out now!”
That’s when everyone gasps loudly, his wife’s jaw dropping to the floor sending Jimin into a fit of laughter. “And I thought Jungkook’s outfit was bad; I can’t! Someone record this shit right now.” Jimin laughs, throwing his head back as he clutches his stomach.
“Sending this to the family group chat ASAP; I need to see what Lora got to say about this.” You laugh as you take a picture of your husband and Taehyung side by side, Jungkook smiling with two thumbs up while Taehyung holds his balls tightly.
Taehyung stands beside your husband in a pair of pink leotards and sheer stockings a little too small for his large figure and has his two hands in front of his private parts. “It’s up my ass I’m afraid…” Taehyung states which sends the group into a large fit of laughter, the kids who suggested the fashion show are currently giggling and clapping their hands non-stop for their daddies.
“Take it off! I can’t breathe..” Ari clutches her stomach as she presses her legs together, as she’s about to pee herself. A loud ding is heard from everyone’s phones, “Lora said, ‘I didn’t know Tae took ballet classes?’ ‘Did Iseul lose a tooth? Why is Kook dressed as the tooth fairy?” You read out loud laughing between words.
“Oh, she’s so real,” Jia says between laughs as she watches Taehyung waddle away with Jungkook running behind him.
“I can’t believe I’m tied to this family for the rest of my life.” Eunbi fake wipes her tears as she sniffles, before snatching Jimin’s last cookie.
“Dada!!” Iseul says loudly when Jungkook comes back running down the stairs with a new cookie packet, “hi my baby” Jungkook’s eyes widened as he picks Iseul up from your lap and showering her cheeks with wet kisses. Iseul giggles in his arms trying to push him away.
“The day when Iseul grows up and doesn’t want Jungkook’s kisses—“ Yoongi tries saying, “I’m not listening, I’m not listening.” Jungkook starts screaming, sending Ye Joon and Iseul into a giggling mess as they both put their hands over their ears, copying him.
You watch with a big smile on your face. You truly had no idea how you ended up sitting on this couch surrounded by the people that you loved more than anything else in the world. You watch your husband with your daughter in his arms as he passes Iseul half of a cookie before going back to arguing with Yoongi about how Iseul will one day grow up, and she’ll be her own person that one day won’t ever listen to her dad ever again.
“In fact, Iseul might grow up before you do,” Taehyung says, patting Jungkook’s back as he walks beside him. The tights and leotard long discarded and replaced with jeans and a shirt before dropping in the middle of you and his wife on the couch, putting his arm around Ari.
“I’m done with all of you! Everyone out!” Jungkook pouts, pointing to the door. “You for real ain’t kicking us out?” Hoseok questions, laughing only to be met with a serious look on Jungkook’s face.
“Out. I’m trying to fuck my wife.” Jungkook says casually, not before covering Iseul’s ears.
And without a second thought, everyone stood up, collected their things, and made their way to the door. “Oh, we’re actually leaving?” Jia asks, confused about why everyone is suddenly in a rush to leave.
“You weren’t here at the time, but Halloween night… let’s just say party, bathroom, Y/N, and Jungkook.” Eunbi shivers from the memory.
And with that, everyone leaves, leaving you on the couch chuckling, and Jungkook locking the door behind them with Iseul in his arms. “Did you just say that so they could leave?” You stand up, making your way to him, wrapping your arms around his neck as he puts Iseul down, and she waddles away with Bam, your guy’s Doberman puppy.
“No, I’m actually trying to fuck,” Jungkook shrugs, leaving a wet kiss on your neck. “Iseul?” You ask, trying to push him away.
“Princess! Nap time!” He untangles himself from you before rushing to get Iseul.
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writing-wh0re · 11 months ago
Note
AAAAH, I just saw you posting your prompts and your requests are open. I don’t know if you write them together or individually, but if you can (or if you can’t but you can write for one of them), could you do Fred and George with a Smutty prompt #3?
All writing will be #writing-wh0re-requests.
George Weasley x Reader x Fred Weasley
Word Count: 6,167 - I had so much fun writing this
Warnings: Smut18+, Unprotected Vaginal Intercourse, Female Performing Oral, Daddy Kink, Slight Choking Kink, Slight Slapping Kink (if you squint), Praise Kink, Slight Degration, Slight Breeding Kink, Spanking Kink. Slight cum kink. Use of pet names.
Basically its a very kinky smut and there's actually plot - look at me go.
A/n: Sorry I have been inactive, life am I right? But I'm getting a desk setup completed so I will be more fequent! I hope. I apologise for this being long, but I truly had so much fun writing this request. My love for the twins is reigniting. I will be fixing up my taglist as well / making a library blog for posts. I have written this smut differently to how I have in the past, let me know if you'd like a part 2!
Merry Christmas x
| | | |
Hogwarts was quiet the closer it got to Christmas, snow was gently falling and the gusts of wind were freezing. Most students went home for Christmas but this year was different for you. Your parents had decided to take a trip to get away from the wizarding world for a few months with no real timeline of coming back, it was something that shocked you but also didn’t surprise you. 
Fred and George had decided to not rush home right away, debating on whether or not to ask you to join them at the Weasley house for Christmas, not really sure of what your relationship was, if it was anything other than lust and desire. 
“You can’t sit alone in the common room for weeks, it’s Christmas.” George grumbled slouching down on the couch beside you.
“I’ll be fine, honestly, I have so many books I can read.” You gestured to the pile of books on the table that you had acquired from the library. “You two should head home, I’m almost certain your mum has made your favourite foods.” 
Fred smiles at the mention of his mum and her tradition of making something for everyone to enjoy. 
“You can come with us, we have a spare room and I’m sure mum would be overjoyed to finally meet our best friend.” 
Best friend
Although not untrue the word still seemed to pang your heart with disappointment. An on and off hook up to them doesn’t mean the same thing it does to you and that was something you were coming to terms with. 
Fred and George sensed the hesitation on you after Fred had dropped the best friend title, it was something they were yet to discuss with you, were you just best friends who fooled around? Or were you also wanting something more that you could all figure out together over time. 
“I don’t want to impose, you’ll have such a full house, isn’t Bill in the guest room this year?” 
George smirks, you do listen to every word they say. 
“What Freddie is saying is there will be a spare bed somewhere, we have two in our room and the couch downstairs, I’m sure something can be sorted.” 
“Mum already thinks you’re coming so hurry up and pack your things.” 
Your mouth falls open at Fred’s revelation, your eyes flick to George who smirks. 
“Go on, we leave in fifteen minutes.”
“I feel like there wasn’t much of a choice in this matter.” 
The twins chuckle as you pack your things up and run up to your dorm, searching your room for a bag to pack things into you. 
You quickly rush out of your dorm, running into the twins as you look up at them. Their eyes wander your face, a blush creeping up your neck. 
You look down at the floor, before George places his hand under your chin.
“Everything okay baby?”
Baby. 
You weren't quite sure how a simple nickname could make your stomach flip and your body tingle, but it did, especially coming for George and Fred. 
“Uh, um.” Your mind is foggy, unsure what you were originally rushing for. The twins smirk, sharing a quick look before your face lights up, having remembered what you wanted to ask. 
“How long are we gone for?”
“We will be coming back the week before term starts.”
“But we can come back earlier if you’d like.” 
“So three weeks?”
The twins nod as you spin and walk back into your dorm, them following behind you. You walk back and forth from your closet to your bed, where the twins have decided to lounge while you pack. Finding outfits is easy, finding lingerie works out to be a little harder under the gaze of the men on your bed. 
You quickly open your dresser draw, looking over the various colours of lace and matching sets. Quickly you grab a hand full and shove it into your bag, closing your dresser and zipping the bag closed. 
“Darling, you dropped something.” George whispers, moving past you and bending down to pick up your dark red G-string, blush creeps up your face, your stomach filling with butterflies as George passes the material to Fred who simply places it in your bag and rezips it. 
Your mind continues to rush, a million thoughts racing through your brain as the twins share a smirk before grabbing your bag from the bed. 
“C’mon love.” Fred holds your bag as he walks out of your dorm, George follows closely behind his eyes looking you up and down, sending a swift wink your way before holding his hand out, an invitation to take his. Which you do, almost embarrassingly fast. 
George squeezes your hand and pulls you along with him to follow Fred. 
| | | | 
After a few days at the Weasley home, you started to feel settled and a part of the family. Harry had joined the household on the same day as you, making you feel not so alone in the imposing feeling. No one was surprised to see you, they were excited to have another friend along for the celebration. Molly had made you feel so at home, hugging you when you first arrived, a feeling of warmth and comfort washing over you within her embrace. 
Over the past few days, Molly had shown you how to bake a few of her signature recipes, she had even gone as far as asking what your favourite food was, setting herself a goal of creating it for you come Christmas Eve. 
Being one day out from Christmas, Molly didn’t want to be disturbed in the kitchen, she needed her space and stated that everyone should go outside to play a friendly game of Quidditch, she emphasised the word ‘friendly’ mainly at the twins. 
So you sat on your broom beside Harry, waiting for everyone who was playing to fly into the air. 
“Have you played before?” Harry asks curiously, not knowing much about you, himself being two years younger. 
“Yeah, but I'm definitely not a pro.” You laugh as Harry smiles, looking out at the Weasley family. 
“I think they’re going to kick our ass.” 
“Oh without a doubt.” 
You and Harry share a smile, your eyes wandering to the golden ball, clearly not the shiny golden snitch but definitely close. The quaffle and bludgers fly through the air with a woosh sound, everyone going into game mode. You and Harry nod at each other, both taking the role of seekers before rushing into the air in search of the ‘snitch’. 
Within a matter of seconds the twins are behind you, chasing after you. You fly past the duo, diving down behind Harry who seems to have his eye on the golden ball. You quickly look over your shoulder, the twins hot on your ass. You notice the golden ball dancing between the twins. A smirk dances across your lips as you fly up higher just outside of the quidditch pitch, pulling up on your broom as the twins fly past you. They stop and look back at you as you flash them your bare tits. Both of them go wide eyed as you hold the golden ball between your hands, pulling your sweater back down. 
“Later losers” 
You turn your broom around, wiggling your ass as you dive down to the grass. 
“We won!” You scream, Ginny, Bill and Ron rush down to you, pulling you into a hug and cheering for your team as the rest of the players come to the ground. 
You make brief eye contact with the twins, a darkness in their eyes but clapping for your victory nonetheless. 
“Lunch is ready! C’mon darlings before the storm comes.” Molly gestures for everyone to come inside as you opt to help clean the game up, the twins staying behind with you. 
You bend down to pick up the spare brooms, your ass brushing against George’s crotch, your eyes locking onto Fred and sending him a wink. 
Fred stands in front of you, shielding you from the view of the house, George holding your hips, pulling you against his chest. Fred caresses your cheek, his head shaking. 
“Do that one more time and we’ll fuck you right here in front of everyone.” 
Your breathing hitches, your eyes never leaving Fred as he hooks one finger into the collar of your sweater, looking down at your bare tits. George slips one hand up into your sweater, groping your boob as you whimper, a shiver runs over your body at his cold finger tips. The fear of getting caught creeps up, a slight wetness running to your core. Fred tilts your head to look up at him, his thumb brushing against your bottom lip, your lips parting slightly. 
The twins smirk pulling away from you like nothing happened and begin grabbing the game equipment. 
They walk towards the home, not once turning back to look at you. Thunder rumbles through the sky as you quickly rush inside, not wanting to be left out in the oncoming storm. 
“There you are sweet girl, would you prefer peach or lemon tea?” Molly asks sweetly, smiling at you before worry washes over her. Molly places her hands on your cheeks and a slight frown on her face. 
“Y/n, honey you look flushed, are you okay?”
You heart hammers in your chest, those fucking twins. 
“I’m okay Molly, the wind just gets to me sometimes.” You smile, reassuring her as she pulls you into a warm embrace. You make eye contact with the twins, smug smirks on their face. 
“You tell me if you need anything, now, lemon or peach?” 
You nod at Molly, deciding on lemon tea before squeezing in between Fred and George at the table, conveniently the only spot left. You spin the pasta around the fork, thankful for a warm meal. Your body tenses slightly, feeling both Fred and George place a hand on your thighs. Both of them grab and squeeze the flesh, involuntarily rocking your hips at their touch. You quickly catch yourself, continuing to eat while the twins trace shapes and grip your skin. 
| | | | 
Not much continued to happen yesterday and today had mainly been taken up by Ginny and Molly asking for help with wrapping gifts, a cheeky idea coming into your mind as you pocketed a bit of red ribbon. 
Tonight was the big Christmas Eve feast, Mr Weasley had finished work early and everyone was told, multiple times, that dinner would be served at 7pm, not a minute over. Molly hadn’t made lunch today, wanting everyone to wait with anticipation for her multitude of amazing dishes, a favourite created for everyone in the home, including yourself and Harry. You had simply asked for baked honey carrots, which judging by the smell of honey filling the home, Molly had delivered. 
“Thank you girls, go get comfy while I finish up dinner.” Molly smiled, kissing Ginny’s head before ushering us away from the table so she could set it accordingly. 
“I’m going for a quick shower.” Ginny states rushing up the stairs in front of you. You duck into the twins room, looking over George’s messy bed and Fred’s mattress on the floor, thankful that you could share a room with them but lucky enough to score Fred’s bed. 
“Mum loves you.” I jump slightly at George's words not noticing him behind me. I smile, falling backwards on Fred’s bed. 
“I love her, she feels like home when she hugs you.” I whisper as George hums in agreement. 
Fred walks into the room, his hair dripping and a towel around his waist. I sit up slightly, resting on my elbows, my eyes shamelessly dragging over his toned body. 
“My eyes are here baby.” 
That fucking nickname.
“Oh I’m well aware.” I whisper, looking over at George quickly. “Remind me, do you look like that?” 
George smirks, pulling his shirt over his head, his body just as toned as Fred’s. 
I bite my lip, looking between the two shirtless twins. 
“Noted.” 
Fred locks the door behind him, resting against it. George stands from his bed, nodding at his brother before pulling me closer to the edge by my ankles.
“We’re sick of this game love.” 
“We know you want us.”
“Fuck, we want you.”
“That shit you pulled during the game.”
“Dangerous.”
“Slutty.”
“Showing off what’s ours to the whole family.” 
My breath hitches at their words, looking up at both of them towering over me on the bed. 
“I’m yours?”
The twins smirk, George leans down, his thumb brushing against my lip. 
“Should we remind you?”
“It’s been a long time, baby.”
“We forget what you feel like.”
“Sound like.” 
They emphasise their words by groping at your body. Your body tingles, wetness pooling between your thighs. 
Fred feels your pocket, pulling out the red ribbon with a smile. George smirks, tilting his head at me. 
“Are you our Christmas gift?” 
You open and close your mouth, simply nodding as they chuckle. 
“Don’t be shy, baby.”
“Yes.” You whisper, watching their every move. 
George smiles, leaning down and pulling you up from the bed, your chest against his, your back against Fred’s. 
“How lucky are we Freddie.” 
“Extremely.” Fred whispers, his hands gripping your ass. 
George leans down to your lips, his lips hovering over mine, your breath mixing as my eyes flick from his to his lips. 
“Please.” You whimper. 
George closes the distance between you, your lips moulding against each other. Fred kisses along your neck and shoulder, sucking on your weak spot as you moan into George’s mouth, allowing for his tongue to twirl with yours. 
“Be quiet baby.” George whispers as Fred captures your lips, his kiss just as soft as George, savouring every swipe of your tongue against each other. George’s hands slip under your sweater, a groan falling from his lips at your lack of bra, twisting your nipples. 
“Fuck daddy.” You whisper, both of the twins stopping briefly, as George grabs your hair pulling your face to him. 
“Say that again.”
“Daddy.” You whimper, your lips pouting, Fred moans, his hands spanking your ass.
“We’re going to ruin you.” 
Before anything more can happen you hear Molly shout up the stairs, letting you know dinner is served. 
“Fuck.” The three of you say in unison, the boys pull away from your body. Fred rushes around the room for clothing as George puts his sweater back on. 
George smirks at you, tapping your ass and nodding towards your hair. 
“Might want to fix that baby.”
“Don’t want everyone to know you’re our little slut.” Fred winks, both of them slipping out of the room, their footsteps bouncing down the stairs. 
Your fingers brush against your lips, a slight tingle against the flesh from their kisses. A smirk forming on your face, thankful for the last few minutes, a step in the direction you crave. 
After you fix your hair,you quickly bounce down the stairs, thankful you're not the last one as Harry and Ron rush in behind you.  
“Sit, sit dear.” Molly gestures to the space across from the twins, next to Ginny and Harry. You quickly sit as Molly places the last dish on the table. The house smells amazing, a mix of spices and hints of firewood from the stove. 
“Merry Christmas, I love all of you.” Molly smiles, kissing Arthur. “Including you two.” Molly gestures to Harry and yourself as you knock his shoulder, smiling at him. “Please, eat.” 
No one waits for Molly to say it twice, everyone serving themselves. George serves you a pile of honey carrots and Fred places a few roasted potatoes on your plate before continuing to serve themselves. A soft smile falls on your lips, the simple domestic gesture filling your heart, maybe this could work. 
Everyone is quiet while enjoying Molly’s food, the sound of knives and forks clicking together. You catch Molly’s eye as she enjoys watching her family sharing dinner together, only having this occur a few times within the year. Molly catches your eye and winks at you, scrunching her nose and smiling at you before taking a sip out of her wine glass. You smile back at Molly, a warmth washing over you at the small interaction. Your eyes flick to the twins in front of you, both of them almost finished with their meal. A cheeky thought pops into your mind as you shuffle on your seat slightly, dragging your foot up George’s leg. His eyes lock onto yours, he nudges Fred inconspicuously to get his attention before sitting back in his chair, his legs spreading wider as his older brother looks down at the chair quickly. You press your foot into George’s crotch softly noticing his body tense as Fred shakes his head, grabbing his cup and tipping the liquid into his mouth. You drop your foot from George and move it to Fred, not wanting him to feel left out. Fred grabs his napkin, wiping his mouth as he looks over at George and nods. A wordless conversation shared between the two as George smirks. 
“So Y/n and Harry, what subjects are you looking forward to most next year?” Molly asks, butterflies flip in your stomach, feeling like Molly caught you. You quickly drop your foot from Fred causing him to chuckle slightly, George takes a sip from his glass hiding his smirk at your reaction. 
“Defence against the dark arts, I’m sure I don’t have to explain why.” Harry states, causing a small chuckle to fill the air. 
“And Y/n?” Molly smiles. 
“Potions, I’m excited to create a few remedies for different conditions but also to help these two-” You quickly gesture to Fred and George who go wide eyed, you know Molly and Arthur don’t know about their ‘jokes’ yet but why not keep them on their toes. “With passing the subject. You know they don’t stir their cauldrons, they just expect it to work when you throw things into it.” 
Molly and Arthur chuckle, a smug smirk on your face at the panic you just gave the twins. 
“Oh that explains why their grades for positions are so high, we have you to thank.” Arthur chuckles as you nod, smiling at him. Little does he know, you have them to thank for your grades. 
You pick up your glass, taking a sip of the cinnamon eggnog, freshly made as Molly questions her kids about what they’re most looking forward to. You only half listen, your mind occupied by the pair of redheads in front of you, your mind filled with ideas on what you want to do to them and them to you. Thankfully for such a great break. 
| | | | 
The night flew by, Molly handed out one gift to her kids, including yourself and Harry. Molly stated it was something to wear for Christmas day breakfast and to not fuss over opening one present early. She asked everyone to open them at the sametime, to which you did and found yourself with a handmade sweater with your first initial on the front, everyone had one. You held the fabric close to yourself, knowing you would hold onto this for the rest of your life. 
Fred and George hadn’t spoken to you since dinner, opting to hangout with their brothers and Harry while you and Ginny gossiped on the couch. Ginny was confiding in you about her crush on Harry and how Dean had been sending her letters since he left for break. You hadn’t noticed when the room dwindled down to just yourself, Ginny and Harry. Upon noticing and remembering what Ginny had said, you excused yourself, leaving the two of them alone which caused Ginny’s cheeks to heat with a rosy blush. 
You quickly went up the staircase, noticing how much quieter the house was the further you climbed. You slip into the twins room, hearing soft snores, noticing Fred’s asleep on the spare mattress on the floor. You look to George’s bed and see it's empty. You can hear the faint running of water, a small idea popping into your head. You walk over to the bathroom, your hand resting on the handle, hoping to god it’s George. You contemplate this gamble for a few seconds, bouncing on your heels slightly before the devil on your shoulder simply says ‘fuck it’ and you turn the handle to the bathroom. 
“Hey, knock-” George pulls the shower curtain across, cutting himself off when he sees you leaning against the now closed bathroom door. A smirk forms on his face as pulls the shower curtain open a little for you, simply waiting. The steam flows outside of the curtain, the mirror foggy and walls wet. You quickly slip out of your clothes, untying your hair and letting it fall. A shiver runs over your body in the damp air and you hurry into the shower, wanting the warm water to cascade over your body. 
George has his head tipped under the shower, leaving his body open to your eyes. You drink in his figure, his toned chest and arms, his semi hard cock and strong legs. The water streams down his skin, small sprinkles covering your body. Wetness slips past your folds, your heart beat picking up, this almost feels wrong without his counterpart. But you know they will talk and you know Fred will be jealous. 
George faces you, dragging his hand down his face to wipe away the water, his eyes linger on your body, his tongue dragging along his bottom lip. 
“What’s Freddie going to say?” 
The mention of his name has butterflies erupting in your stomach. 
“Why don’t you tell him and find out.” 
George smirks at your response, stepping closer to you and pushing you against the side shower wall, the cold tiles resting against your skin as a hiss leaves your lips.
“You’re a cock hungry whore, aren’t you baby?”
Your lips part at his words, simply nodding and leaning up to capture his lips. George pulls away from you tutting as he holds your chin between his fingers. 
“You answer daddy when he asks a question.” 
“Only for you daddy.” 
George chuckles, tilting your face up to his. Small droplets of water fall from his hair and onto your skin. 
“Liar.” He whispers, licking along your bottom lip and taking it between his teeth and pulling the flesh. “You’re a slut for Freddie, and fuck it makes me hard, but tonight you’re mine.” 
You nod your head, a whispered ‘Yes Daddy’ slipping from your lips, your eyes staring into his. His lips lock with yours, his wet hand moving from your chin and tangling in your hair, pulling on the strands. A moan falls into your kiss, your tongues swirling against each other, his free hand holding your hip, pulling your dry body against his. 
“You’ve gotta be quiet baby.” George whispers, his lips kissing down your neck, tongue tracing a line to your boobs. You softly whimper as he takes your nipple into his mouth, his teeth grazing against the hardened bud. He pulls from your breast with a pop, alternating to the other side, your fingers tracing through his hair, pulling when he bites your nipple. The warm shower water sprinkling your body, the steam filling your lungs as your gasp.
“You’re so beautiful and these tits.” George whispers, grabbing your boobs in his large hands and jiggling the flesh. He sucks on the skin of your cleavage, leaving a red and purple hickey on each one, definitely something to rile up Fred. 
George presses against you, your boobs slip against his wet chest. His lips brush against your ear as you feel his hard cock against you skin. 
“This is all for you.” 
Your moan in response, causing George to place a hand over your mouth. Tutting at you as he shakes his head. He drags his fingertips up and down your thighs, softly tapping against your folds before slipping one finger past. He sucks in a breath at your wetness, pressing his fingers against your clit and looking into your eyes. 
“You’re so good for me, so wet and warm.” 
You nod against his hand that’s still pressed against your lips. His finger starts to swirl around your clit in small circles. Your eyes roll back, a moan vibrating against his hand. 
“I’ve missed this pussy baby.” 
He picks up the pace of his finger on your clit, your legs tense at the feeling of pleasure flowing through you at his actions. George pulls his finger from your clit, placing the digit against his tongue and rubbing it side to side, before his lips encase it. 
“So sweet.” 
If he wasn’t covering your mouth, it would be open in shock. 
“Please.” You beg, whispering against his hand, it is barely audible, he wouldn’t have noticed if he didn’t feel your lips move against his skin. 
“Are you begging for me to fuck you against the wall baby?���
His words cause more wetness to flow between your legs. He moves his hand from your lips allowing for you to answer. 
“Please daddy, I’ve missed your cock.” 
George smirks, placing his hand under your right knee and lifting your leg up, his other hand resting under your left arm. 
“I bet you’d say the same fucking thing to Freddie.” 
It’s your time to smirk at his words, nodding softly before you reach down and wrap your hand around his hard cock, tip red and beading with precum. 
“I would, because I’m a whore for you and a slut for him.” You whisper, slowly pumping your hand up and down his dick. George bites his lip, looking down at your hand. You place his cock against your folds, the tip brushes your wet clit causing him to hiss at the contact. You guide him lower to your entrance, angling your hips to allow for him to slide into your velvet walls. 
Both of you sigh in unison at the contact. George keeps his hips still, his lips capturing yours, savouring in the feeling of your walls around his cock. You rock your hips up slightly, a silent beg for movement as he smiles against your lips, pulling his cock from your pussy before plunging deep inside of you. Your nails dig into his shoulder as he finds his rhythm, his cock slips in and out of you, your wetness growing the deeper he thrusts inside of you. His lips are resting against your ear, his low whispered moans and groans echoing in your head. 
“So tight and wet for me.”
“Such a good girl for daddy.” 
Hearing him refer to himself as Daddy has your pussy tightening around him, his praise sending tingles through your body. 
The water of the shower continues to run, it ever so slightly sprinkling you both with droplets. The steam continues to fill the room, the water pressure dropping from being on for so long. 
“Touch your clit for me baby, I’m close and want you to cum first.” 
You slip your hand between your bodies, a moan falling from your lips as you circle your clit, the wetness causing it to slip against your finger. You add another, two now circling your clit and fast to help you reach your high. 
“Look at you, such a whore.” 
You whimper at his words, your pussy tightening causing George to hiss, tilting his head back, his wet hair sticking to his skin as he continues to rock in and out of you. 
“D-don’t stop.” 
Your legs tense, your fingers rubbing your clit faster and George’s lips fall to your neck, kissing the skin and whispering for you to cum. 
“Cover my cock baby.”
Your heart beat picks up, your breath hitching and your eyes squeezing shut as you cum. Your legs tingle and untense; George’s cock continues to slide in and out of you, his pace picking up as he moans in your ear. His mouth falls to your shoulder and bits skin to muffle his moan as his cum spurts, warmth pooling inside of you. 
George pulls away from you, watching his cock pull in and out, covered in a mix of cum. He gently places your leg down, slipping out of your pussy with a hiss. 
“C’mere.” George whispers, pulling you to his chest and kissing your hair. He spins you around, softly placing the warm running water against your cold back, his fingers tracing in your hair. He places a kiss on your forehead, his hands now holding your hips. 
“Let’s get you ready for bed.” 
| | | | 
You wake up in the morning, a dull ache in your legs from last night. The memory of last night floods your mind, you lift your shirt looking at your boobs beautifully covered in hickeys. 
“I hear you had fun last night.” 
You look over at Fred leaning against the doorway. Your face fills with blush, your eyes quickly flicking to George’s bed as you hear Fred chuckle. 
“George is out with everyone else, mum insisted they hand deliver Christmas cards to the neighbours.” Fred states, closing the door and moving closer to the bed. “And I insisted on letting you rest because you were up late last night and had to make sure you didn’t wake up alone.” 
“Freddie.”
“Nuh-uh, what’s my name baby girl.” 
Your stomach fills with butterflies, watching the eldest twin sit on the bed beside you, his fingers caressing your face. 
“Daddy.”
Fred nods, his hand tilting your chin up, before settling around your throat. Bending down to your lips and whispering against them. 
“That’s better, I bet you called George daddy and I bet you fucking loved it.” 
“I did.” 
You want Fred to be rough, you want him to compete against his brother, you want to be filled with his cum. 
“I hear you’re a slut for me, is that correct?” 
His hand tightens around your throat before releasing softly, dragging his hand down your body and resting it on your boob. 
“Yes daddy, whatever you want me to be.” 
Fred smirks, chuckling at your response. 
“So submissive for me, you wanted to make me jealous didn't you baby?”
He grips your breast, pinching your nipple and dragging his hand down your body, cupping your pussy through your thin pyjama pants.
“You want me to fuck you better than George.”
“Please.” You whimper, your hips rocking up against his hand. 
Fred slaps your pussy through your pants as your hips stop. 
“He was right, you’re a slut for me.” 
You simply nod in response. Fred leans down, his lips ghosting yours. 
“Get on your knees and show me what you want.” 
Within a second he’s pulled away for you, leaning back on the bed and resting against his elbows. You scramble off the bed, falling to your knees in front of him, the wooden floor hard and cold. 
You loop your fingers into Fred’s pants, tugging them down his body along with his underwear. His cock springs free, hitting against his lower stomach. Your mind floods with comparison to George, the thickness and length comparable, a vein running from the base to the tip. You run your tongue along the vein, flattening your tongue against the head of his cock before slipping it past your lips. 
“Fuck.” Fred moans, falling back on the bed, his hands dragging down his face. 
You wrap your hand around the base of his dick, meeting your lips half way, your tongue flicking side to side around his cock. Fred’s fingers lace in your hair, assisting you with bobbing your head up and down, his hips thrusting into your throat. Your eyes water, a few gags filling the air and drool leaking from your mouth. 
“Such a messy baby.” 
Your eyes roll back, moaning around his cock. 
“You didn’t- fuck- suck George’s dick, did you baby.” You shake your head, popping his cock from your lips. 
“Just for you daddy.”
“Mm, just what I wanted to hear.” Fred grabs your face between his hands, kissing your lips sloppily, his tongue rubbing against yours. Your lips are puffy and glistening with spit, his teeth pull at your bottom lip pulling away from you. 
“On the bed baby, ass up for daddy.”
Within an instant you’re standing in front of him, stripping your clothes. Fred stops you before you can lay across the bed, noticing the hickies covering your boobs. 
“Cocky fucker.” Fred groans, spanking your ass in encouragement to get on the bed. 
You lay with your ass in the air, feeling Fred kiss down your back. He reaches your ass, spanking the plump skin, soothing it with a soft kiss to your cheek. His teeth graze the skin, biting and sucking, leaving his mark on your ass. You squeak as he spanks you, his cock dragging up and down your slit, bumping against your clit, your moans filling the air. 
“No one’s home baby, be loud for me.” 
Fred slides deep inside of you, the angle allows for him to brush against your g-spot a moan pulling from your throat. 
“Fuck, I should just stay inside of you, that would drive you crazy, wouldn’t it baby?” 
“Yes daddy, please fuck me.” 
“Mm, what would George say?”
“Fuck, please, fuck me.” 
You push your hips back against his cock, a low groan falling from his lips. 
“Fuck yourself on my cock baby.” Fred encourages, your hips rock back and forth on his cock, wiggling them against him. You pull forward just far enough to leave the tip inside of you before pushing back allowing for him to slip deep inside of you. This causes Fred to grip your hips, starting his own rhythm and thrusting in and out of you. 
“This is exactly what you wanted, isn't it baby?”
You nod against the comforter, your hands gripping the material. 
Fred spanks your ass, his fingers looping your hair around his palm and pulling you up. 
“Answer me.”
“Yes daddy, wanted you to fuck me.” 
“Wanted me to fuck you better than George.” 
You moan at his words, his pace picking up. Both of your moans and heavy breathing fill the air, his grip still tight on your hair. Fred uses his grip to pull you up against his chest, his arm wrapping across your boobs as he bounces you on his cock. 
His lips fall to your ear, using his free hand to rub your clit. 
“Fuck, Freddie.”
Fred chuckles against your ear, his warm breath fanning your neck.
“Scream my name louder baby, I want George to hear.” He pinches your clit, your body jumping in response before he rubs fast circles around the bundle of nerves. You rest your head against his shoulder, lips parted with moans pouring from them. Your pussy tightens around his cock as his dick twitches. 
“You can cum for me baby, I’ve got you.” 
Fred’s grip on your body tightens, his hips rocking into you faster. 
“Daddy, so good.”
He kisses the side of your head, his pace picking up on your clit. He feels you clamp around his cock and your body tense. Your toes curl and your body shivers, cumming around Fred.
“Good girl, good fucking girl.” Fred whispers, the sound of your wetness filling the air as he continues to pound into you. He pushes your torso back onto the bed, holding your ass in his hands and chasing his high. Fred curses and you feel his load shoot inside of you, a few more thrusts and Fred gingerly pulls out of you. 
“Look at you baby.” He whispers, softly caressing your skin. 
You gently roll over onto your back, attempting to catch your breath as Fred rushes around for clothing before disappearing. You hear the front door to the Weasley’s home open close and a chatter fill the air. You heart rate picks up slightly, your body aching and mind blissed out to cover yourself. 
Fred reappears in the bedroom with a warm towel between his hands. Within a moment later George is sliding through the door. His eyes darkening when they land on you, legs spread and pussy dripping with his brother's cum. The twins share a look as Fred throws the towel to George who stalks over to you. 
“Such a pretty baby, our little cum slut.” George whispers, his eyes fixated on your pussy. A gasp falls from your lips at the feeling of George slipping his fingers inside of you. George pulls his fingers from you, a mix of cum sticking to his flesh. You grab George’s wrist, pulling his hand to your mouth, dragging your tongue up his fingers, sucking the mix of cum, your moan vibrating around his fingers. Your eyes lock with the younger twin, a smile present on both of their faces. 
“We’re so lucky Freddie.”
| | | |
Let me know if you'd like a part 2 with both of them.
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feeder86 · 7 months ago
Text
The 1%
It had been such a thrill, finding that the scouts had picked him; those same experts who had signed up the likes of Harley Hawkinson and Carl Williams. Did they really see the same potential in Nicko as they had done in those superstar football players? It all felt so surreal as he got off the plane to Oklahoma and entered the training facility. 
Nicko knew it wouldn’t be easy to prove himself. He looked around the large sports hall, filled with over one hundred large, athletic college guys, all hoping for the same dream of a professional sports contract: to play the game that they loved and get paid handsomely for it.
“As you all know, the modern game of football is dominated by guys who are more muscular than we have ever seen before,” an older guy explained to them from the staging area during this first welcome meeting. “In the last three years, we have seen the average weight of a professional football player increase by 30lbs. And that number looks set to continue to increase.”
Looking around at the other guys, Nicko couldn’t help but understand why he was saying this. Sure, the guys around him were full of talent. How else would they have got here otherwise? But put them on a field with the professionals out there these days, and they would get trampled down in seconds. They all knew it. None of them had the muscle and the bulk that was needed to survive in a big league game.
“Our training scheme and medical support can give you that last hope of achieving your dreams,” the man on stage went on; selling the scheme which each of them had already signed up for. They all knew this was their only real shot at success. These days, no professional football player got anywhere without the experimental drugs offered in places like this; not that anyone would ever admit it outside of these walls. “So, my advice to you is, train hard and work with us… Now I’m going to hand you over to someone you will all be very familiar with. We’re so proud of him and delighted that he has given up his time to be with us today. Boys, please may I introduce you to… the one and only… Carl Williams!” he beamed, as the large room of excited college athletes roared into life.
An enormous, hulking mass of man began strutting from the door and onto the stage. He lifted his arm up, accepting all the applause and smiling from ear to ear. Every muscle on his body was pumped and full. Even his forearms looked incredibly developed. Nicko could hardly believe his eyes! His biggest celebrity crush, right here in the same room with him! Carl was known for playing rough and dirty on the field and, in Nicko’s wildest fantasies, he was much the same in the bedroom. Not to mention the fact that, in terms of celebrity bulges, Carl was off the charts. Every gay site he visited had picked up on the fact Carl was packing something absolutely enormous between those giant thighs. 
The man didn’t speak to them for long, but soon had everyone up on their feet, chanting his name. He stuck around too, and was there that evening as they sat down to their first meal together.
“They say he has some sort of sixth sense about which guys will go on to do well here,” Nicko’s new friend, Steve, whispered to him; both of them looking with jealousy at the six young guys who had been invited to sit on Carl’s table.
Nicko shook his head sceptically. “Nah, they’re just the loud ones who know how to sell themselves,” he scoffed, having met a couple of them and deciding that they were not the type of guys he would want to hang around with here; so pumped full of arrogance and self-importance. “We’ve just got to train hard, that’s all.”
Steve exhaled and raised his eyebrows. “I wish that was true,” he mumbled. “But we both know the only thing that sets this training academy apart from the rest is the drugs they use. You can train as hard as you like, but if the drugs disagree with you, that’s the end of the line. Career over.”
Nicko rubbed the spot where he’d had his first injection earlier that day; straight into the muscle at the top of his right butt cheek. ‘Please work!’ he thought silently. There was nothing more he wanted in life than to be up on that top table with Carl Williams.
During the first three weeks, some guys started to stand out remarkably well. Shoulders began to widen, whilst larger glutes and thighs made the training sessions more intense and physical than ever before. Nicko could see the changes in his roommate, Steve, each time he came out of the shower: his biceps bulging and his pecs pumped.
As for Nicko, he had seen only minor changes in his muscle mass, and he was yet to make any impression on the trainers. But as certain guys began to bulk faster, hit harder and dominate on the field, it became more and more of a challenge to stand out, or even stay on your feet.
Egos were beginning to run riot at the camp. Those guys who had quickly responded to the treatments began to strut about with more confidence and ownership of the place than any of them had expected. The larger guys hung out with each other more, sitting together at meal times and excluding those they obviously found inferior.
“Don’t worry,” Steve whispered to him as it was obvious that everything was getting to Nicko. “You’ll respond more to the drugs soon. You’ve just got to focus on the training. That’s the important part.”
Nicko nodded, knowing that Steve didn’t believe a word of what he was saying. In two weeks, they were making their first eliminations, and Steve knew he was heading straight home.
During the assessment, Steve very quickly got a sense of how badly it was going. He was weighed, prodded and poked to within an inch of his life; seeing the same grim faces on the medical professionals all around him. In the end, he was simply sent to a small room and told to wait there for someone to come and speak to him. The afternoon training session was to begin in thirty minutes, but no-one was in a rush to ensure he would make it. The reason for that was obvious: he wasn’t coming back. 
It was no shock to Nicko that he was in this position. The last week in particular had been especially hard. He’d been thrown around by the larger guys in training, beginning to understand how the nerds must have felt back in high school. At twenty-one years old, Nicko was in a place that was little better than a kindergarten playground.
Without warning, and making Nicko jump with surprise, the door suddenly opened and an enormous muscular man entered. It took a couple of seconds for Nicko to focus and recognise the person who was now filling the tiny room they were in, but when he did, he shot to his feet and held his arm out, desperate to shake the guy’s hand. “Carl Williams!” he blasted. “I can’t believe you’re here.”
Carl looked across at him with a smirk; his eyes travelling up and down Nicko’s body as he reached out his hand for him to shake. “So you’re Nicko, huh?” he asked, as if trying to hold back a laugh.
Nicko nodded, hardly believing that this meeting was even happening. Carl was even more insanely huge and attractive up close like this.
“Sit down, Nicko,” Carl ordered, grabbing a chair himself. “I need to break something to you.”
“I’m being kicked out, aren’t I?” Nicko shot back, not wanting to draw this out and ruin his one-on-one time with his biggest celebrity crush.
“Oh, of course you are,” Carl chuckled, seeming surprised that Nicko had only just figured it out. “But one of the boys told me you had a bit of a crush on me, so I thought I would come in here to soften the blow.”
Carl gazed at Nicko with a sly grin on his face. He knew that he had embarrassed him and he was enjoying the period of time when Nicko was squirming and desperately thinking of how to respond.
“Um, so… how come I’m going home?” he asked, trying to fill the cringing silence.
“Because you’ve not responded to the drugs the same as everyone else,” Carl shot back, looking at him as though he was stupid for not being able to see that for himself. 
“But there are a few guys who aren’t packing on muscle all that fast either,” Nicko protested.
“Oh, you’re right about that,” Carl nodded. “But you’ve not gained any muscle mass at all,” he stated harshly. “In fact, you’re part of the less than 1% who actually lose muscle mass on this treatment.”
“That’s not true,” Nicko protested. “I have gained weight since I’ve been here.”
“Don’t be stupid,” Carl laughed. “You’ve only gained fat since you started.” He pointed at the slight paunch that always popped out whenever Nicko was on a bulking diet. “All the guys can see that. I hear they’ve been giving you a rough time this week? The medical team spotted a nice collection of bruises on your body this morning.”
“Not too bad,” Nicko lied, not wanting to look pathetic in front of his idol.
Carl simply laughed as if he knew differently. “Sure, sure,” he nodded patronisingly. “Those guys are just learning; being on a football team is like being part of a pack of wolves. So when you see a little piggy on the field with you, you’ve got to go for them.”
Nicko’s eyes bulged at Carl’s rudeness. But the professional athlete simply smiled at him, as if daring him to call him out on his comments. Then, when Nicko kept quiet, the big man nodded in approval.
“I like you,” Carl grinned wickedly. “You’ve got the right attitude and you don’t live too far from where I play, do you?” he asked, having clearly studied Nicko’s notes before coming in. “I’d love to grab a few beers with you sometime in the coming months.”
Nicko nodded his head frantically.
“Good,” Carl smiled, reaching his large hand out to stroke Nicko’s thigh. “Play your cards right and I might even let you suck me off,” he teased, before standing and heading straight out of the room.
Despite the daring, unbelievably hot fantasy Carl had dangled in front of Nicko’s nose: home still beckoned. He had lost. The dream of sporting success and insane riches was now over.
With a mediocre college degree, Nicko settled into an equally mediocre office job, close to home so that he could move back in with his parents. He’d suffered from a great sense of failure after the training scheme had gone so badly. No one wanted to be the first one sent home; he hadn’t even had a chance to say even a quick goodbye to his friends. He’d got himself into quite the slump, finding that no matter what he did, he simply couldn’t shake off the little arching paunch he had developed in Oklahoma. In fact, despite all his careful eating and gym work, it actually seemed to be increasing in size more than anything. 
The same could be said for the rest of his body, with Nicko’s underwear pinching uncomfortably as his tight glutes began to pack on some extra, softening mass. Was he really developing love handles at this age, even after all this exercise? It just didn’t seem physically possible. His date, the weekend before, had even called him out on his extra pounds. Perhaps he had even been right to do so; his profile pictures really were a little out of date these days. It meant that when he got the call from someone on Carl Williams’ staff, trying to set up a date for their beers, Nicko went immediately into panic mode. There was nothing in his closet that was suitable for drinks with a football superstar; at least, nothing that fitted!
“Well, well, well…” Carl smirked as Nicko entered the very private VIP room at the back of the noisy, exclusive club in the city. The enormous 335lb football player looked sexier than ever, all dressed up as he was for a night out. “Let me get a look at you,” he demanded, ruthlessly kicking away the table in front of him with his feet and making space for Nicko.
Having travelled for an hour to get here and arguing with the security outside for twenty minutes that he was a guest of Carl’s, Nicko wanted nothing more than to just sit and have a drink. However, when Carl clicked his fingers and pointed again to where he was being summoned, Nicko only did as he was told.
Immediately, Carl reached forwards, slapping one hand on Nicko’s larger butt and the other on the furthest extent that his paunch was now sticking out. He smiled, bouncing both lightly and seeming to appreciate the new width across the middle of Nicko’s body. “Look at you!” he growled with disgust. “You wouldn't last two minutes on the football field now. My boys would rip you to pieces!”
“I’m trying this new diet…” Nicko began explaining, not knowing what else to say.
Carl winced and shook his head impatiently. “Shh! I don’t want to hear about shit like that.” He leaned right back, then tapped his outstretched thigh, silently telling Nicko to sit on it.
Again, Nicko did as he was old, unable to comprehend that he was getting so close to his football idol. He heard Carl growl in appreciation as Nicko’s torso slipped so easily into his reach. Then, without a word, he began unbuttoning Nicko’s shirt from the very top.
“Wait!” Nicko jumped. “Don’t people come in here?”
“Yes,” Carl replied, unperturbed as he reached the fourth button down.
“What if someone comes in and sees me like this?”
“Then they will see…” Carl smiled, finally reaching the end of the buttons and now splaying the shirt material to the sides, “...THIS!”
Nicko tensed as his fleshy torso was revealed to the one person he had been carefully dressing to conceal it from.
“Fuck!” Carl blasted. “Even the tits are coming in!” he laughed loudly, reaching up and bouncing one of Nicko’s nipples.
Nicko got up, feeling embarrassed. He felt Carl’s strong hand clasp the back of his pants and pull him back over his knee so that Nicko actually fell into the space on the couch beside the football superstar. From there, the enormous man seemed to envelope him, his arm over his body and his face so deliciously close.
“Don’t be shy,” Carl whispered teasingly. “This happens to all the boys at the training camp eventually. Well…” he grinned, raising his arm to show off his incredible bicep, “...almost all.”
“Weight gain?” Nicko asked, feeling his stomach rolling over his belt as he sat, half on his back, with the enormous athlete looming over him.
Carl nodded. “A fat belly, jiggly tits, a giant, doughy butt… you know how it goes,” he laughed; his lips devastatingly near. “But the one percent, well, that boy is always very special.”
Niko nodded, remembering Carl referring to the muscle stimulant medication having an opposite outcome for one percent of the people who used it. Which, in Nicko’s group, had been him. “I’m special?” he asked, aroused by all this attention he was getting.
“Very much so,” Carl grinned, rubbing Nicko’s cheek with an outstretched finger. “The one percent packs on fat faster than anyone else. In less than a year, he can go from a chiselled athlete to a full grown superchub!”
“That can’t be true,” Nicko replied. “They’d never allow something like that.”
“And yet…” Carl laughed, grabbing the roll of fat hanging over Nicko’s belt: his point made. “You really have no concept of how much money there is to be made in football, do you? How vital things like this are for the economy? Fatties like you are just… collateral damage… a necessary evil on the way to creating superstars like me.”
“How do I stop this?” Niko asked, watching the athlete getting up and unbuckling his pants.
“Sucking on this should help,” Carl lied, pulling his monstrously large erection out and slapping it into the palm of his hand. It was even bigger than Nicko had ever imagined, gazing at pictures and videos of the guy’s bulge over the years
Overcome with lust, Nicko slipped his mouth over as much of it as he could, just as he was directed. Everything that had happened since entering this room had been like a dream. Whatever weird things were happening in his life right now, here he was, pleasuring a football champion!
“Oh, yeah! That’s good!” Carl moaned. “Yes! Work that tongue, One Percent! Take as much of me in as you can!”
In those moments, Nicko did not care what was happening to him. He was the luckiest guy in the world, feeling ecstatic as he brought the enormous man to a full climax, simply by using his mouth.
Clearly impressed, a sweaty Carl buckled his belt back up and sat himself down again. “Keep that up and you’ll go far with me,” he sighed in appreciation.
As Carl fixed his clothing, Nicko tried to do the same, beginning to refasten his shirt buttons. However, Carl was still having none of it; placing his large hand very decidedly over Nicko’s and saying ‘no’ in a very strict manner; as if training a puppy.
“Have you ever thought about moving to the city?” Carl asked next.
Nicko shook his head. “I couldn’t afford it. Plus, I don’t know anyone here.”
“Good. That means you wouldn’t go wandering,” Carl shot back bluntly. “I can get you somewhere by next weekend. You can live there, and then you’re close by for me to pop in whenever I want. I keep a few guys that way.”
“Why would you do that for me?” Nicko asked, confused by what he felt were a rush of mixed messages.
“At a game, the front row seats are always the best,” Carl simply replied, leaning across once more and flicking the fat roll that fell over Nicko’s belt. “And this is a show I have no intention of missing…”
It was a couple of months later. Nicko stood at the large picture window of his apartment, still unable to comprehend the amazing view he had over the cityscape. Fully furnished and decorated by professional interior designers, Nicko was living a life he could have only ever imagined in his very wildest of dreams. He was even paid a salary each month and had new bank accounts set up entirely by Carl’s people. And all it took was the signing of several non-disclosure agreements from the athlete’s numerous lawyers.
“It’s time to put that pizza down, Fat Boy!” Carl called out, striding in unannounced, as usual.
Nicko chuckled. He hadn’t been eating any pizza, although you would never have guessed that from looking at him. Upon Carl’s insistence, he wore only his underwear around the apartment, catching glimpses of his increasingly lardy reflection in the many, many mirrors that Carl had insisted was part of the interior design.
“Jeez! Look at you!” Carl laughed, undressing himself at the door, as he always did, and watching as his secret project came waddling into view. He pulled his erection out and stipped even his boxers, standing there as the perfect masculine specimen. “Your tits just won’t quit growing, will they?” he laughed. “And look at this fat butt!” he marvelled, dropping Nicko’s underwear and slapping the oversized glutes which had been filling up at a faster rate since Carl had been sending over take-out most nights. Nicko could tell from the way that Carl was handling them, exactly how the big man wanted to fuck him that evening.
The big mirror in the hallway was always Carl’s favourite spot. He could bend Nicko over the sturdy little desk and watch their reflections as he powerfully bombarded his boy’s chubby’s rear with blow after blow.
“You played well last night,” Nicko offered afterwards as a naked Carl lounged on his sofa for a rest afterwards..
“Yeah, yeah,” Carl sighed, rolling his eyes. He had people blowing smoke up his ass all day long. This wasn’t what he kept Nicko for.
“I felt so proud, I decided to finish all those doughnuts you sent me,” he explained, hoping to please his lover.
“Good,” Carl nodded. “It’s about time you stopped resisting the ways I’m trying to help you fatten faster.” He beckoned Nicko closer, just as the chubby boy had hoped. “So, tell me, how did it make you feel, eating all that for me?”
Still fully loaded and, as yet, unsatisfied, Nicko gasped in excitement as he felt Carl’s hand moving onto his thigh, ready to pleasure him if only he said the right things. “It felt incredible,” he replied, exaggerating. “It made me want to eat even more food and please you so much more,” he continued, feeling his erection having a gentle stroke; so subtle and yet so precise.
“Go on,” Carl demanded, not letting Nicko stop. “Tell me more.”
Nicko gasped, always climaxing pathetically quickly whenever Carl was the one touching him. “It made me so excited to get heavier for you…” he offered.
“Oh, no. That’s not the right word now, is it?” Carl sighed with disappointment. “You’re not just getting heavier, are you? Tell me what’s really happening, One Percent.”
Nicko gave another gasp of arousal, his jaw slackening as the pleasure built. “I’m getting fatter for you,” he replied diligently.
“What else?” Carl demanded again, having found a small crack in Nicko’s defences and prizing it open in any way that he could.
“I’m getting lazier. I don’t exercise. And I eat like a pig,” Nicko whispered, just as he had been trained.
“You are a pig,” Carl shot back at him, spiking Nicko’s arousal even more. The shock he felt over the word was now gone, given how many times Carl had whispered it into his ear whenever he came. Now the word had become a key for unlocking Nicko’s arousal. 
Nicko nodded, gazing submissively into the big man’s eyes. His breathing was heavy and his entire body twitched as the orgasm built.
“Piggy, Piggy, Piggy!” Carl sang teasingly, forcing Nicko’s hardess to erupt explosively yet again.
“My goodness! What on earth have you been eating?” asked Nicko’s mother a few weeks later as he called home for a quick visit.
Nicko could feel his face flushing. “It’s nothing,” he mumbled, trying to conceal his stout gut that had quickly formed and dominated his torso. It was all his family wanted to talk about, demanding explanations from Nicko about exactly what he was doing to gain so much weight so quickly. Didn’t he have any regard for his health? His appearance? His ability to find someone nice to settle down with? Just what was this city life doing to him? 
“She’s only thinking of you, Son,” Nicko’s dad offered later that afternoon, as the pair retreated into the TV room to watch the football. 
“I know, I know,” Nicko huffed, trying to concentrate on the game to see how Carl was playing. Then he winced as Carl went in for a big tackle, destroying the opposition.
“Ouch!” Nicko’s dad hooted. “He’s a nasty piece of work, that Carl Williams! Look at him getting up like nothing’s happened. That poor guy will be out for weeks after that tackle.”
“So?,” Nicko replied defensively. “It wasn’t an illegal tackle. He’s not broken any rules.”
“No, just another guy’s shoulder by the looks of things. Third one this season by my count.”
They both watched the screen as Carl strutted about on the pitch, waiting for the medical team to finish up so that play could resume. Nicko knew the football player well enough to know when he was trying to suppress a proud smile.
“A man that big has no place on the football field,” Nicko’s dad continued. “Look at him! His arms are bigger than my thighs! The game has gone ridiculous!”
But Nicko definitely was watching, feeling blood pumping into his groin. He rubbed his fat tummy, just as Carl would have, suddenly knowing that he wanted to gorge himself stupid on fast food on the way home.
“I weighed myself this morning,” Nicko explained, lying on his front, naked on the bed after a particularly boisterous session with Carl. “Three hundred and forty one pounds,” he smiled, rolling a little and grabbing a wedge of belly fat.
“You have to start eating more then, won’t you?” Carl replied, unimpressed. “You’re only just a little heavier than me.”
Nicko laughed. Whilst the fact was true, his and Carl’s bodies were complete polar opposites in terms of composition.
“I mean it,” Carl stated seriously. “Three fifty by next weekend. Make it happen.”
“Am I the fattest of the guys you keep?” Nicko asked, knowing how Carl supported lots of secret lovers all over the city.
“Not even close!” Carl laughed.
“Do you think I could be, one day?”
Carl looked at him seriously, studying his face in a way that he did not usually. Then his answer, when it came, was actually a lot more considered than anything else that usually came out his mouth. “Why? Do you want to be?”
The feeling of having Carl’s attention was a drug that Nicko could never wean himself off. “For you,” he smiled, “I’d do anything.”
With Nicko’s new enthusiasm and commitment, he felt himself rising up the ranks in Carl’s mind. The athlete came over a lot more and took a very active interest in ensuring that Nicko continued to grow as he’d promised he would. One such perk was having free seats to any of Carl’s games; often getting himself on camera as he gorged on corn dogs in the stands.  
“Steve?” Nicko asked as he recognised the man standing by the rest rooms after the game. “How’re you doing, buddy? I can’t believe I’m bumping into you!”
The young man Nicko had met and made friends with in the training camp failed to recognise him until Nicko introduced himself once more. His jaw dropped and he spluttered and mumbled his way through the conversation, clearly not quite believing that they had once been roommates a little over one year ago.
“How did the training camp work out for you in the end?” Nicko asked. “I didn’t even get to say goodbye to anyone.”
“Yeah, we got used to that,” Steve nodded. “We’d see guys at breakfast and then… gone. Kicked out. I got down to the final thirty or so. But it got so toxic in the end,” he grumbled, reeling off the names of the guys both he and Nicko had despised: the ones who were now making names for themselves in the professional game. “In the end, I was quite happy to leave.”
Nicko looked down to Steve’s body, noticing a stout little stomach under his pumped pecs. 
Steve noticed him looking and he sucked in hids stomach slightly, clearly feeling a little awkward. “I’ve been trying to keep up the training,” he rambled on, clearly used to making excuses for his appearance. “It’s just hard to balance now I’m working full time as well.”
“It’s much easier when you give into it,” Nicko smiled knowingly. 
“Yeah, well…” Steve smiled awkwardly. “I’m not quite ready for that.”
Nicko wondered whether he should tell his old friend that the weight gain wasn’t going to stop; that just like him, Steve was heading on a path to enormous obesity as a result of their time in the training camp. However, he resisted, giving his old friend the goodbye hug he had never been allowed at the camp, and watching the guy’s meaty, round glutes and stubborn love handles as he walked back to his girlfriend who was now out of the restrooms. If only she knew the body her boyfriend would soon inhabit: another victim of his own lust for sporting success.
It was only now that Nicko realised just how involved Carl had been from the beginning, having invested millions in the training camp they had attended, and reaping fifty times as much in return. It was what he loved most in the entire world; never missing a single event day they held, and personally seeing to it that more and more naive college boys were signed up each year.
“You’re such a good pig these days,” Carl grinned, watching Nicko nibbling on the specially made giant doughnuts that fitted perfectly around Carl’s thick erection. “Just seeing you without your clothes on now… you’re so disgustingly obese, and yet… look at you eat!”
Nicko nibbled and licked the remaining bits up quickly and sat up so that Carl could touch and jiggle his enormous body, laughing as the waves of pure fat travelled in such interesting ways through his entire body. 
“How about we get you somewhere nicer to live than this dump?” he asked, scorning as he looked around the plush, luxury apartment. “Somewhere a lot more superchub friendly.”
Nicko nodded, happy to live wherever Carl thought was best. As he had grown, the wage that was deposited into his account each month had been increasing more and more. Carl had always been great at incentives. In a couple more months, he would even be able to buy his own place, should he so wish.
“I’m looking for somewhere very exclusive for my original piggy to live in,” Carl explained, bouncing up and pushing Nicko onto his back on the bed. “I’d like it to be somewhere for you both to live together,” he smiled, picking up another cream filled doughnut and pushing it into Nicko’s submissive mouth.
Chewing quickly and swallowing as much as he could, Nicko nodded with interest. “This is the guy you first went on the training course with? Your fattest boy so far?”
“You wait until you see him!” Carl grinned excitedly. “Mountains and mountains of pure blubber!” he chuckled, stuffing yet another doughnut into Nicko’s mouth and watching as the greedy boy swallowed it down for him “But he’s not always obedient, like you. He still tries to push against my rules on occasion,” he sneered in irritation. “The pig’s almost one hundred pounds heavier than you are,” Carl explained, having never actually given Nicko any insight into the differences between him and the other fatties he kept. “Yet, he still thinks he can defy me at times.”
Nicko looked up at the gorgeous, hulking monster above him. “Don’t worry. I’ll sort him out for you,” he stated with certainty.
Carl threw his head back and laughed. “My disgusting fatty is setting himself a mission, is he?” he mocked. “Well, you do that then, One Percent,” he nodded approvingly. “Turn him into a good piggy, just like you.”
Nicko smiled, delighted to be trusted with such a task. He rolled over, feeling Carl’s large hand smacking an entire palmful of lubricant into his crack. Then he pulled his heavy, fat-filled glutes wide apart to demonstrate that he was ready to be fucked again. Nicko didn’t know exactly when he had stopped caring about anything else in his life; devoting himself entirely to Carl’s wants and needs. He knew that the guy was wicked and manipulative; throwing his money around and flaunting his good looks to get whatever he wanted. He knew as well that the guy could get bored of him and drop him in a flash. But whilst he was here, basking in the limelight, he would enjoy every second of it. 
He would be the very best piggy.  
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prettiedup · 5 months ago
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prettiest thing cont ❀˖°
pls do excuse any typos !
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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. 
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bonny-kookoo · 28 days ago
Text
Jungkook
Clingy [Part 9]
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This is what he's always wanted.
Tags/Warnings: Hybrid AU, Wolf hybrid!Jungkook, Otter hybrid!Reader, Angst, strangers to lovers, adult content, ♥️
Length: 1.3k words
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When Jungkook wakes up, he needs some time to adjust to the real world- because it doesn’t feel real to him.
It takes him a good moment to realize that yes, this is no longer just your place but his as well- some boxes still packed in the corner of your bedroom, because you both haven’t found time nor a place for his things yet. It’s only been a couple of days yet, but he already feels himself familiarizing his mind with your apartment. He already knows where to step at night even when he can barely see through his sleep-fogged eyes. He knows where your cutlery is in the kitchen, where you store your laundry detergent, how you like to sleep in bed.
And he especially has become familiar with the way you cling to him at night, arms and legs around him, one hand always holding his.
It’s surreal to him that he’s truly in this situation- living with you, a person so understanding and kind, in a small apartment in the city. No longer is he just a body to be rented out, no more does he have to adjust to someone else- he’s your person now, can be the version of himself he deems truly his own, and he knows you accept him like that.
You had a small argument last night, but you talked it through. It didnt even last long- but for a fraction of a second, he had been scared that his little dream would fade over nothing but a silly little fight.
But that’s not the truth. Truth was, and is right now, that you talked about it, communicated your sides to one another, and worked it out.
How serene.
Especially serene is the sight of you sleeping so close to him, bathed in the early morning sun seeping into the room through the cracks of the curtains not fully pulled close. It must be very early in the morning, and he’s not even sure why he’s awake- but he still enjoys this. The moment of seeing you vulnerable next to him, completely trust placed in his palms.
He knows it’s not wasted. Not if he can prevent that.
A kiss placed on your head is enough to wake you, sleepy gaze finding his, and even in your still hazy state, you smile so warm and kindly at him. You make him feel like a person worth loving, like he’s never been who he’s been in the past. It’s like he’s been given a second chance to not only change, but take full control over his life- and he’s eager to take it.
Deep down, he’s accepted that his love language is simply physical touch- not just because that’s all he knows he’s good at, but because he enjoys intimacy with you. It’s not just sex he thinks about when picturing you in a more sensual way in his mind- it’s a need to prove to you physically how much you occupy his mind. How you fill his soul to the brim with adoration for you, how much he wants to mark your skin for everyone to see. He’s never been possessive over things in his life because that wasn’t what was fitting for his role in the world- but now, he’s free.
He’s allowed to be a little selfish.
You’ve planted actual hunger back into his body, seeds that sprout desire for you, roots spreading all throughout his limbs until he can no longer take the ache of it all. The moment he leans over you to kiss you, he’s falling again- in love, into your arms, into what he knows are safe hands that will never hurt him.
You’re sleepy, and yet you happily respond to his very clear hints at his intentions- offering yourself to him in a way that makes him stir to life. There’s a strange feeling that starts to grow in his mind from just the simple sight of you so easily willing to give your body into his care- a feeling similar to pride, but less burdening. It more so makes him eager to prove his worth, hands beneath the covers pulling down your underwear for him so he can begin his journey at the first step.
His hand between your legs works you up effortlessly. He knows exactly what to do to get you restless beneath him, the sigh of your breathing becoming deeper and more desperate enough of a reward. It’s the way you squirm the more he plays you that makes his lips twist into a soft smile, while you whine in complaint.
„What is it?“ He wonders, teasingly- and you frown, before you look at him.
„I want you.“ You complain to him, and he leans his head to the side a little in fake innocence.
„Huh?“ He wonders, removing his hand. „But you have me, right here.“
„Not like that.!“ You huff impatiently, and he can’t help but laugh. Even in moments like these you manage to make his heart swell- well, that, and something else entirely.
He knows you’re taking preventative measures. He knows there’s nothing holding him back. This time, he can do whatever he sees fit. Whatever he desires.
The thought alone is enough to help make him stir alive, his own underwear pushed down to reveal his ready length to you for just a second as you watch him guide himself right where you want him most. Your mind isn’t clouded by your heat this time, so it is like your first time together, basically- but without the added fear of something being awkward.
You trust him, after all.
Pushed inside you he sighs, leaning in for a desperate kiss as he fails to go slow in any capacity. His need for you is simply too big to control, hips moving without much of his control as he gives up trying to be someone he’s not in this situation. He wants you, wants to see you utterly ruined between his body, and it looks like it won’t take much to do so. Only now, amongst eager breaths and closed eyes does he spot the way you’re holding hands- like second nature, an instinct followed, and it makes him gasp out a bit at the absolute absurdity.
Deep down, he always dreamed of something like this. Pure love, in its raw form, stripped of all superficial layers.
He adjusts your position a bit, moves one of your legs over his thigh while the other is between his own, making him reach even deeper, giving him the ability to be even closer to you than before. He doesn’t mind the obscene sounds of your wet skin colliding, or the way the blanket falls and exposes your rather sloppy lovemaking- this is what he’s always wanted.
You arch your back in bliss, as his hands grip your hips, guiding you into him with every thrust of his. He can’t help his own body speeding up, eagerly rutting into you while he bites his own lip, drunk off of the sight and sounds and whole moment. It’s pure bliss, his senses high, your end clear by the way you suddenly spasm around him, core clenching his length inside you in a rhythmic manner that can only be described as sinful- all of it enough to make him push himself as far as he can, to spill his seed and claim you as his own.
You’re breathing heavily, before you both break out into smiles, his hands carefully running over the red imprints of his fingers as if to apologize for his grip.
But he’s not sorry.
And he’s not done with you yet, either.
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itsmrshamilton · 19 days ago
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Happy birthday! | LH44
summary: baby hamilton celebrates Roscoe's birthday for the first time
a/n: a fic in celebration of my stepson's 12th🪅
💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌
You rolled the last sock over the chubby foot then slipped the small shoe on and pressed down the velcro strap.
"Okay, you're all dressed. Look at how handsome you look!" You cood at your baby boy. He smiled and kicked his feet in delight.
You lifted him into your arms and walked out of the nursery, bouncing him as you went.
"Dada, dada, dada." He babbled. You smiled at him in pride. Cameron wasn't speaking full sentences yet but was learning words pretty quickly. However, the difference between your accent and Lewis' accent was making it hard for your son to pick up words.
"You want dada, my sweets?" He nodded, big brown eyes looking up at you. "Dada's out picking up Roscoe and his friends, yeah? So we'll stay here and set up for the party."
"Pah- tee." He uttered, chubby cheeks working hard to move around the word. You giggled at his effort and kissed his big forehead.
"Yes! Party. Mummy's going to put you down here so she can get the bowls out." You set him down on his play mat in the living room. He immediately crawled towards his squeaky toys and talking teddies. A true lover of loud noises, like his father. You set about finding dog bowls and filling them with treats, water, and fruits, then organising party packs with chew toys and 'thank you' cards. When you heard the gate roll open, you left the kitchen to go open the front door. Your curious boy abandoned his toys to turn towards the door, eager to see what was going on.
As you opened, 5 energetic dogs frantically pushed their way in, dragging a chuckling Lewis behind them. He was tangled in the mess the leashes made. Cam squealed in delight at the sight before him.
"Oh, my! Look at Dada and all the dogs, sweetie!" You exclaimed. Cam clapped his small hands and grabbed his feet in excitement. You couldn't help but laugh at his antics. Watching this small being react to everything in wonderment and awe was the best part of being a parent.
"Woah, guys. Let's get these leashes off, and then everyone can explore to their hearts' delight, yeah?" Lewis kneeled and let the dogs loose before standing up to kiss you. "Hello, love." You smiled bashfully and wrapped your arms around his neck.
A loud squeal forced you apart, and you turned to see your boy giggling loudly as the dogs sniffed and licked at him. They were all well trained and friendly pups, so you weren't worried about them hurting him. Cam didn't seem worried either as he waved his arms, trying to get the dogs to stop tickling him.
Roscoe managed to push through the crowd of 4-legged baby lovers to get to the center and barked at the others to back off and find other interests in the house. He gently nudged his face into your son's arms for some snuggles and pats.
"Osco!" Yelled your son. He couldn't roll R's yet, so this was the best he could do. The first time he mumbled the bulldog's name, Lewis nearly collapsed from extreme joy. It was Cam's second word after Dada, which stung a little for you but couldn't beat the pride you felt overall. Roscoe was the first member of both of your families to meet your son. He adjusted very quickly and learned to be gentle and quiet around the baby. Refusing to sleep anywhere but the nursery at night, growling at anyone who dared to go near the baby in the first months and barking menacingly at anyone who raised their voice when the baby was asleep. Now that your boy is getting older, Roscoe allows him to use his body to balance when he tries to stand, he carries over his chew toys to share and he promptly cleans up any bits of food thrown off the high chair. They were best friends. The cutest duo you'd ever seen. And now you got to include your son in Roscoe's birthday celebration.
Despite Roscoe being very gentle with him, your baby was still learning to be the same with Roscoe. You watched as Cam lifted Roscoe's ear to put the hairy tip into his mouth. Lewis swooped in quickly and lifted him.
"Hey, buddy. We don't bite Roscoe's ears, okay?"
"Osco!" Came the reply, barely registering his dad and reaching down to his furry sibling.
"Is dada just wasting his breath?" You smiled in amusement at your favourite boys. Side by side, they looked alike a lot. Same big eyes, small lips, and chubby cheeks. Your son had light tufts of hair, but you saw the potential for it to be thick like yours one day.
Lewis began to entertain the guests and his sons, so you went back to the kitchen to prepare human food for lunch.
As the day went on, the human guests arrived bearing gifts and drinks. The party was coming to life. The dogs ran wildly in the large yard, your son was passed around like a trophy and the birthday boy was treated to all the belly rubs and pats he could ask for. As the sun began to set, Lewis brought out the giant cake that was designed to look like Roscoe's favourite food - a watermelon. The cake was vegan friendly and pet friendly. Lewis proudly placed it in front of his firstborn and began the birthday song.
Everyone joined in and took pictures while Roscoe sat proudly and smiled for every camera. He waited til everyone cheered and then dug into the cake. His friends joined in, and together, they did their best to clear the plate. Lewis helped you hand out slices of the cake suitable for humans. As you took a plate for yourself, you realised your boy wasn't where you left him.
"Y/n, do you have Cam?" He turned to ask you but froze when he saw your panicked face.
"No! I thought you might have him." You began to panic some more. You saw Lewis' eyes widen a bit, and he put his plate down to pull you closer. You continued to look around over his shoulder. No one else seemed to notice your baby was gone.
"Don't panic. There's a lot of people, he coul-"
"Bloody hell!" You yelled. "Lewis, look at your son! Cameron!" You pulled out of your husband's grasp to stare in shock. "Cameron!"
Lewis jumped and turned around to see.
Amongst the dogs ravashing the vegan cake was the little boy, seated next to Roscoe and shoving fistfulls into his small mouth. You could feel the grey hairs growing in. Lewis, on the other hand, couldn't be happier to see his best boys bonding.
💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌
I suck at ending stories, man.
Thanks for reading this far. Be sure to interact before you leave! Do not alter, copy or repost my work anywhere else.
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queenpiranhadon · 5 months ago
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As a counter to you sending me a scrumptious request, I SHALT DO THE SAME.
So, there's like a lot of drama going on rn (kinda juicy lols)
How about, Bakugou Katsuki whose best friend, Reader, (who he's secretly in love with) gets confessed to by a handful of people within two weeks' time or something.
Pwetty please? ✋😔
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A/N: AHHH SEO I'M SO SORRY I'VE BEEN SO CAUGHT UP WITH THE WARRIOR SERIES THAT I DIDN'T HAVE TIMEEEE 😭 Here's the masterlist lol
Warning(s): Cursing, kabedon kinda, Bakugou gets kinda possessive, short but sweet, confessions, reader is obliviously in love, just fluff
Pairing(s): Bakugou Katsuki x Reader
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•────•°•❀•°•──── ʟᴏᴄᴋᴇʀꜱ ────•°•☁︎•°•─────•
“I swear to ever loving fuck yer gonna be the death of me.”
You swat Bakugou’s arm, half joking, half serious.
“Bakugou! Don’t swear you idiot. Plus I think it’s sweet.” You chide, returning your gaze to the mess of gifts that lay on your desk. It was your third year- you would all be graduating next week. And over the past week, you were bombarded with love notes wherever you went, finding three in your locker one morning, 4 on your desk, and even one slipped into your gym back when you returned from training.
Bakugou clicks his teeth, and rolls his eyes. “I seriously have no idea what those idiots see in ya. Must need glasses like Four Eyes or somethin’
You snort at that, ignoring the sting you felt in your heart as he said the words. You knew he didn’t mean it, it was just Bakugou being Bakugou, so why did it hurt so much?
Thankfully, Aizawa chose that moment to walk in, sparing you the obligation to respond to Bakugou’s confusion when you went silent. 
***
Class was a drag, per usual, and you were packing up your stuff, planning on heading to your locker, when you were ambushed by yet another secret admirer. 
This person however, was bolder, deciding to give you flowers and a box of chocolates in person. You recognize him, a boy from one of the business courses, in the year below you. 
“L-L/N-san!” he says brightly, thrusting the box and bouquet into your arms, catching you off guard. “I like you a lot, ever since my first year here…! Would you go out with me? Just for one date, I promise you won’t regret it!”
To be honest, you really hadn’t thought about dating much - you were so caught up with school work and work studies that you never really focused on romantic relations. However, Hawks, your work studies mentor, allowed you off for the summer before you’d return to his agency as a sidekick.
You weren’t sure what to say- sure the boy in front of you was sweet and caring, but he wasn’t what you thought of when you thought about an ideal partner. 
But damn did you hate rejecting people.
Luckily, you didn’t have to. 
Bakugou storms in behind you, slamming your locker for full effect, his own way of self restraint. 
“Fuck off.” he growls, and you can tell it’s taking everything in him to not throttle the boy into the ground. 
The latter swallows thickly and throws his hands up, attempting to talk himself out of the situation. 
“Bakugou-san I was just-”
“Fuck. off.”he seethes, and with that the boy bolts down the hall.
You both stand there, not saying anything before you hear Bakugou’s voice again. 
“You.”
“Bakugou…?” you ask warily, and he slams you against the lockers, caging you against it with his body. You can almost feel the rage emanating off of him. 
“Do ya know, how annoyin ya’ve been these past few weeks, huh? Fuckin runnin around gettin love letters left and right.” he grumbles and you feel yourself getting a little angry too. 
“You don’t get to talk to me like that. Plus, I thought ‘you didn’t know what everyone else saw in me’. You can’t call me fucking ugly and then expect me to come trailing after you like a damn puppy.” you snap, and Bakugou’s eyes widen. 
“Goddamnit.” he groans, pulling off of you and his face turns red. 
“I..” he starts, and he groans again. “I fuckin like ya okay?!”
Your eyes widen, and you feel butterflies erupt in your stomach.
He…
You smile, and step closer to him, pressing a small kiss on his cheek.
“C’mon, Blasty. Let’s go back to the dorms.”
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vlrspace · 10 months ago
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you’re too busy focusing on the screen of your phone, blissfully unaware of the pair of violet eyes tracing your every feature. sitting next to you, geto finds himself yet again, completely and fully enamoured by you. it’s not like you are doing anything in particular, wholly invested in your own world as your body is slumped back into the couch, a hand leaning against the backrest as you often brush your manicured nails through your hair.
it really just makes his heart beat a tad faster, warmth bubbling in his chest at the sight of your choice of clothing for the relaxing night in at gojo’s, comfortably chilling in his black hoodie paired with his grey joggers. the black haired male has to admit though, you look adorable in them, the materials all baggy and engulfing your much smaller frame.
geto shouldn’t be surprised, somehow his clothes always find their way to you and you often wear them to university, grocery shopping and anywhere you see it fit. he usually pretends to not see the large bag you carry when you hang out at his flat, never questioning you as you stuff the missing clothes into his laundry basket and then exiting his front door with a few new pieces neatly folded and tucked away in your bag. geto knows it’s weird, but he can’t help himself because after you leave he picks out the clothes you left and sniffs them, the lingering smell of strawberry and peaches leaves him longing for you.
“we are back!” gojo’s voice breaks geto out of his thoughts and watches you drop your phone on the couch, seemingly unaware of geto looking at you for the past few minutes.
“finally, i’m starving” your voice is impatient as you swiftly stand up to help shoko with the pizza boxes, dips and other contents. gojo only flashes his black haired friend a look, before he heads towards the kitchen for plates and cutlery. “sugu, you want the usual?” you turn towards him once gojo is back and geto can’t help the way his heart flutters at the your soft sound calling his name.
“yeah, thanks” he mumbles lowly, a gentle smile grazing his lips as you hand him his plate first, before you join him again on the couch with your own plate. there’s a wide grin on your face as you contently eat away and lean against geto’s broad shoulder when you’re full, offering him the rest of your food as usual. he finished it off for you, just like every other time you eat together, because you can never eat all of your food, but you also don’t want it to go to waste.
after that the four of you watch a movie like usual and tonight is geto’s turn to choose. even though he wants to watch a gruesome horror movie, he’s also aware of how they affect you (he often texts shoko to choose a mild movie when it’s her turn) and as much as he loves the feeling of you curling into him and holding his hand tightly (your hand is so tiny and tender compared to his large, rough ones), he ends up choosing a comedy movie. geto thinks it’s all worth it when he hears you giggling and laughing at the jokes and funny scenes next to him (while your head finds its way back against his shoulder when you calmed down, his arm gently wrapped around you).
sometime during the second movie, a psychological one (chosen by gojo) that geto knows you’ll be thinking of for the next few days, he feels your body slowly leaning against him completely, breathing evened out and face tranquil. he feels two pairs of eyes looking at him smugly and he only rolls his eyes, but can’t help the small smile making its way to his lips.
geto can never find it in himself to wake you up when you fall asleep, so when the second movie ends, everyone quietly starts cleaning up (well, only shoko and gojo). the brown haired girl collects your stuff, while gojo packs you all the left overs. at times like this it comes handy that you and shoko are roommates, shoko puts all of your stuff into geto’s car as he carries you out of gojo’s house in his arms, slowly getting you into the passenger seat and secures the seat around you. they all bid each other good night, sharing a round of hugs and gojo playfully sends a kiss your way to which geto only shakes his head, moving to sit behind the wheel.
once you arrive to your apartment complex, shoko carries your stuff inside first and then comes back to open the doors for geto, who effortlessly carries you through the building. shoko disappears into her room as geto tenderly lays you down and tucks you in, pressing a light kiss on your forehead as he desperately tries to ignore the ache in his chest when you weakly grab at his hoodie to tug him closer to you. shit, geto thinks, it’s getting harder to leave you and not climb into bed next to you, cuddle you till he falls asleep as he softly grabs your hands to move them away from him.
shoko’s in the kitchen by the time he makes his way out of your bedroom, his feelings evident all over his face as he makes eye contact with the girl. shoko only sends him a knowing look before walking him out, exchanging a few words before geto bids farewell.
fuck, geto groans to himself once he’s in bed, all of these acts the two of you do together aren’t what best friends do.
and geto knows he wants more.
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@/vlrspace, 2024
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