#need to push and pull him around in the air like he’s yo-yo on a string

[innieseong]

“𝐂𝐨𝐳𝐲 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭” - 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐

✧꡴ - 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 - 𝐛𝐟!𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐛𝐢𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

✧꡴ - 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄 - 𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐓 (𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟 @ 𝐞𝐧𝐝)

✧꡴ - 𝐂𝐀𝐒𝐓 - 𝐒𝐞𝐨 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐛𝐢𝐧 (😍)

✧꡴ - 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 - 𝟏.𝟗𝐊

✧꡴ - 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 - 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭, (𝐬𝐚𝐝𝐥𝐲 𝐧𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐱), 𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲, 𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐃𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐊, 𝐎𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝, 𝐎𝐫𝐚𝐥 (𝐟 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠), 𝐌 𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐅 (😩), 𝐂𝐮𝐦 𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 (𝐟), 𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞, 𝐌!𝐝𝐨𝐦 (𝐢𝐧𝐚 𝐰𝐚𝐲)

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 - 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐁𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞. 𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐰𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐮𝐩 𝐭𝐨 𝐚 𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐲, 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐲 𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐞.

✢ - 𝟏𝟖+, 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝; 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐃𝐍𝐈

✢ - 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐏𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐦.

✢ - @innieseong

✧꡴ - 𝐒𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐩𝐢𝐯 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐈 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐩 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐞𝐰𝐰𝐰𝐰 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠, 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐭 :/ 𝐀𝐧𝐲𝐰𝐡𝐨, 𝐄𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲. (𝐅𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐑𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐝 :𝟑)

You stir from your sleep, a pleasant warmth enveloping your body as the familiar scent of Changbins cologne fills your nostrils. Soft lips brush against the sensitive skin of your neck, sending shivers down your spine. You can feel the heat of his breath on your skin, his soft stubble lightly grazing your delicate flesh.

Slowly, you blink open your eyes, squinting against the dim light of his lamp. As your vision clears, you find yourself staring up into Binnies mischievous brown eyes, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Welcome back, sleepyhead," he murmurs, his voice a low rumble that vibrates against your neck. His hands slide up your sides, pushing your shirt up to expose your bare stomach.

You can feel his body pressed against yours, his weight settled comfortably between your legs. One of his hands continues its journey upward, cupping your breast through the thin fabric of your bra. His thumb teases your nipple, rolling the hardened bud between his fingers until you let out a soft gasp.

"I missed you," He whispers, his lips trailing along your jawline before capturing yours in a searing kiss. His lips move with a possessive hunger, claiming yours in a desperate kiss as his tongue explores the inside of your mouth. His fingers glide along your body, mapping out every contour and curve with an urgency that leaves you breathless with desire. The heat between you builds, each touch igniting a spark of sensation that spreads throughout your body like wildfire. His hands grip your hips, pulling you closer until there is barely any space between you, the need for air suddenly insignificant in the face of this consuming desire.

When he finally breaks the kiss, you're both breathless and flushed, desire coursing through your veins. His eyes are dark with lust as he gazes down at you, his intentions clear.

"Now, where were we before I got interrupted?" he asks, a wicked glint in his eye as his fingers trail teasingly along your inner thigh, brushing against the damp fabric of your panties. He smiles as he feels how wet you are, his fingers easily slipping beneath the fabric to caress your slick folds.

The moment his fingers make contact with your slick heat, you let out a soft moan, arching your back to press yourself more fully against his hand. His touch is confident and skilled, his fingers already knowing exactly how to drive you wild.

"Right here," he murmurs, “Teasing this cute little pussy of yours." He starts by stroking your outer lips, teasing your sensitive flesh until you're writhing beneath him. Then, without warning, His thumb finds your clit, rubbing slow circles around the sensitive nub. You feel your arousal coating his fingers, your hips bucking involuntarily as you seek more friction.

"You're so fucking wet," he groans, his fingers glistening with your arousal. "Were you touching yourself while I was gone? Hm?” You turn your gaze away from him.

He got his answer.

With his other hand, Changbin tugs your shirt up and over your head, tossing it carelessly to the side. His eyes rake over your exposed body, drinking in the sight of your hardened nipples.

"Fuck, you're beautiful," he breathes, “And all mine."

Unable to resist, he leans down and takes one nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud before sucking hard. The dual sensations of his fingers working your clit and his mouth on your breast send jolts of pleasure racing through your body.

Binnies fingers dip lower, sliding through your wetness before he pushes one finger inside your tight heat, slowly pumping in and out. Your walls clench around the intrusion, welcoming him deeper. Suddenly, he adds a second finger, stretching you open as he curls them just right to hit that sweet spot inside. "Fuck, you're so tight," he groans against your breast, the vibrations from his voice adding to the overwhelming sensations.

His thumb presses down on your clit, rubbing firm circles as he continues to thrust his fingers in and out of your dripping cunt.

His fingers speed up their rhythm, plunging in and out of your soaked pussy. Obscene wet noises fill the room as he fucks you with his hand, your juices coating his digits. He slides a third finger in, stretching you to the limit as he pounds into your G-spot mercilessly.

His gaze is intense as he watches your reaction, drinking in every twitch and shiver as his fingers continue their relentless assault on your G-spot. Just as your climax builds to a peak, he suddenly withdraws, bringing them to his lips. He licks them clean, savoring your taste as he gazes down at you with hooded eyes. "Delicious," he murmurs to himself.

He smirks at your frustrated noise, a wicked gleam in his eyes. Changbin gets off the bed and strips off his clothes, revealing his toned physique. He leaves his dress pants on, a tent in them as he crawls back onto the bed, settling between your spread thighs.

Without warning, he buries his face in your pussy, licking a long, broad stripe up your slit. Your hips buck off the bed at the sudden contact, a gasp escaping your lips. He groans against your sensitive flesh, the vibrations sending shockwaves through you.

He drags the flat of his tongue through your slick slit, lapping up your essence like a man starved. He focuses on your clit, circling the swollen bud with firm strokes as his nose bumps against your entrance.

He focuses on your clit, circling the sensitive bundle of nerves with the tip of his tongue. He sucks it into his mouth, flicking it rapidly as he slides two fingers back inside your slick heat. He pumps them in time with the movements of his mouth, driving you wild with pleasure.

You writhe beneath him, your hands fisting in his hair as you grind against his face. Changbin holds you steadily, his grip firm and unyielding as he devours you. He alternates between long, slow licks and quick, teasing flicks, keeping you on the edge of ecstasy.

When his tongue dips inside, fucking you in time with his fingers, you nearly scream. The dual sensations are too much, pushing you closer to the brink. Changbin doubles his efforts, sucking your clit hard as he curls his fingers just right, massaging your G-spot with expert precision.

Through the haze of pleasure, you notice his free hand drifting downwards. With a deft movement, he undoes his zipper, freeing his hard cock from the confines of his pants. You watch, transfixed, as he begins to stroke himself, his fingers gliding up and down his impressive length.

The visual adds an extra layer of eroticism to the scene, heightening your arousal. He seems to sense your interest, angling his body so you have a better view of his hand working over his shaft. The obscene sound of his hand pumping his cock mingles with your moans and the wet noises of his oral attentions.

Your walls flutter around his fingers, signaling your impending release. He doubles down, sucking your clit hard as he curls his fingers just right. His stroking hand moves faster over his cock.

With a final, powerful thrust of his fingers and a sharp suck on your clit, you come on his face. Your pussy clenches around him as you gush into his mouth, your body convulsing with the force of your orgasm. Changbin works you through it expertly, prolonging your pleasure until you're a panting, boneless and satiated mess.

He releases your clit with a soft pop, licking his lips as he sits back on his heels. His cock stands proudly from his open pants, the tip glistening with precum, beading on the swollen head. He grips himself tightly, pumping his shaft in a steady rhythm as he watches you intently.

His hand moves up and down his thick shaft, his fingers gripping the base firmly. Slow, deliberate strokes bring him closer to release, his heavy balls drawing up tight against his body. Precum dribbles from the swollen head, coating his fingers and making the glide easier.

His eyes remain locked on you, drinking in the sight of your flushed, satisfied expression. Your chest heaves with each labored breath, nipples hard and peaked from his earlier attentions. The scent of your arousal hangs heavy in the air, mixing with the musk of his cologne.

As his hand speeds up, the wet sounds of skin on skin fill the room, accompanied by his grunts of pleasure. His muscles tense, abs clenching as he nears his peak. With a final, harsh tug, He brings himself over the edge, spilling his seed onto your stomach and breasts in thick, white ropes.

He milks himself through the orgasm, painting your skin with his release until you're marked by him, claimed in the most primal way. When he's finally spent, Changbin releases his softening cock, watching with satisfaction as his cum drips down your curves.

"Look at the mess you made," he teases, scooping up some of the sticky fluid with his fingers and bringing it to your lips. He watches with hooded eyes as you open your mouth, wrapping your lips around his fingers and licking them clean. "So fucking sexy, baby. I love seeing you covered in my cum."

He leans down, capturing your lips in a filthy kiss, sharing the taste of his release with you. His tongue delves into your mouth, dominating and possessive, marking you inside and out as his.

Changbin grabs a handful of tissues from the box on the nightstand, wetting them slightly to clean up the mess he's made. He gently wipes the cum from your skin, taking his time to ensure no trace of his release is left behind. His touch is tender as he cares for you, a stark contrast to the rough, possessive way he claimed you moments ago.

When he's finished, He tosses the used tissues in the trash and crawls back onto the bed, pulling you into his arms. He wraps you up in the soft blanket, your head resting on his chest as he holds you close. The steady beat of his heart beneath your ear is a soothing rhythm, lulling you into a state of relaxation.

His fingers trace idle patterns on your arm as he reaches for the remote, turning on the TV and navigating to the movie they were watching earlier. The opening credits roll, the volume low enough to not disturb the peaceful atmosphere.

He presses a gentle kiss to the top of your head, his lips lingering on your hair. The scent of his cologne mixed with a hint of sweat surrounds you, a comforting smell that feels like home.

As the movie plays, Changbin occasionally steals glances at you, his eyes soft and filled with affection. He seems content just to hold you, to bask in the afterglow of your slight lovemaking. His hand absently strokes your back, the touch soothing and relaxing.

When a particularly jumpy scene comes on, Changbin tightens his hold on you, pulling you even closer. His heart rate increases, thumping rapidly under your cheek. A small, amused smile plays on his lips as he watches you jump at the loud noises, finding your reactions adorable.

The movie continues, the two of you lost in the world of fiction, wrapped up in each other's arms, forgetting about the outside world for a little while. In this moment, everything is perfect, just the two of you cocooned in love and contentment

✧꡴

✧꡴

[hyunpic]

HYUNJIN for ESQUIRE KOREA & CARTIER

[latimeria-fell-from-heaven]

dr ratio seems like the type to piss you off just to make you manhandle him and have your way with him, after all he'd rather die than admit he fantasizes about you fucking him until he's nothing but a dumb little slut <3

dr ratio is a haughty, know-it-all asshole that sees himself as above these carnal desires. he's far better than the idiots who throw themselves into meaningless relationships just because of a few sloppy orgasms and getting inebriated on dopamine, endorphins, and oxytocin. he prattled on and on about the idiocracy of those around him, and you're his new favorite target, it seems. everything you do, he finds a new way to patronize and look down upon you for doing it "incorrectly" as he put it. even if you solved a math formula with a different method but ultimately got the correct answer, he'd snottily chastise you—it was unfair, he never did this to anybody else but you! it isn't until dr ratio corners you in an unused room, that you decide he needs to learn to stay in his lane and shut his mouth for once.

"don't—hic—i-i can't take—" he stops babbling when you push yourself further into his ass, mouth hung open in a silent scream as you continue to press his oversensitive walls in all the right ways. enough to snap dr ratio from his stupefied daze to suck in a sharp intake of air and start moaning like a dumb little slut. he's loud, moans rising in their pitch—nearly to the degree where you knew he was getting off being manhandled like some cheap toy. with a hand tangled in his soft locks and pulling hard—he cries louder when you do that and wiggles his hips in that cute needy way. his head's spinning, but it feels so good. he's being utterly violated by you like a whore, but it feels so incredible. he shrieks when he feels the stinging slap of your palm against his bouncing ass, and even more blood somehow rushes to his dick. he's losing his fucking mind right now, the nerve of you—! "you, i-i'll get yo—oh! right there, right thererightthererightthere..!♡" dr ratio feels his soul leaving his body as he cums with a loud shriek of your name, thick load being shot out so fast that the aftershocks feel painful. he can't think, he can't think about anything at all. he can only think about the thick weight of you inside his walls, and that he needs to fucked until he's a dumb little slut. just, just one more round wouldn't hurt...♡

[tired-biscuit]

thinking about a dumb jock boy again.

specifically a dumb jock boy who you help with studying in the library sometimes. i’m talking about pushing your heads together as you go over your notes. his side pressing into yours as he reaches out to take the pen from your hand. him asking you for your number so that he can hit you up if he has ‘any more questions’. the whole shebang.

and you, well… you don’t mind giving it to him. he’s big and strong and surprisingly kind-hearted — at least way more than you’d initially thought — and he always smells like men’s body wash because he usually comes to see you after he’s done hitting the showers after practice. he’s nice. simple. the broad shoulders and easy-going attitude are just an added bonus.

sometimes, if he’s in a rush, he comes to the library with his cheeks flushed red and his hair still damp. you watch, hiding your gaze underneath your lashes, as his hair slowly upturns and frizzes at the ends because of the water, and can’t help but find it cute. can’t help but find him cute. it’s a realisation that startles you at first, but you make no effort to push it away. he seems to know it, too.

weeks pass and you eventually grow closer. he texts you just for fun sometimes now, not only to arrange the time for your next study session. you went out on a little coffee date that neither of you called an actual date once or twice, even if he doesn’t drink coffee and you’d opted for a hot chocolate instead.

fleeting glances turn into familiarity and slightly awkward waves turn into quick hugs goodbye. he greets you with excitement whenever you bump into each other on campus; not caring that his group of friends give him confused looks when he chooses to come running up to you.

“yo, guess what; i passed!” he says, his smile stretching from ear to ear when he reaches you. he pulls the crumpled exam paper from his backpack and shoves it into your chest with puppy-like enthusiasm that almost knocks you off your feet. “but imma still need some help with the one that’s on tuesday… so you’re down to study with me again, right? you gonna swing by?”

what a silly question, of course you will! he’s your friend now and it’s a nice friendship you’ve got going on here, so why wouldn’t you pay a short visit to his dorm so that you can go over the material together?

and you do — you do go over the material together. you help him study and quiz him, and then when he tells you that he can’t possibly fit any more information into his brain tonight, you order takeout and watch a movie together.

however, besides that, you also end up with your skirt hiked up and with your thighs wrapped around his head; threatening to squeeze all that air out of his dumb skull each time he brings you closer to your climax. you end up with two thick fingers pumping into your pussy at a steady, perhaps just a liiittle impatient pace, and with a warm tongue pressed tightly against your clit. you end up cumming with your own hand clamped over your mouth so that you can stifle the moans that are threatening to spill out, and that become sort of muffled when he dips down to kiss you.

it’s just his way of saying thanks… maybe he can teach you a thing or two as well.

[strangled-slytherin]

Buried in Books

Summary: Theo finds you asleep on your books in the library after a long night of studying and insists on taking care of you.

Pairing: Theo Nott x Reader

Word Count: 1.1k

Trigger Warnings: None

It was late, well past curfew, but the library was still and quiet, save for the soft sound of Theo’s footsteps as he wandered through the rows of dusty bookshelves. He had been looking for you for the past hour, mildly annoyed but mostly concerned. You’d promised to meet him in the common room to go over notes for Potions, but when you didn’t show up, Theo knew exactly where you’d be—buried in a pile of books, probably lost in your studies.

As he turned the corner into one of the smaller study alcoves, his suspicions were confirmed. There you were, seated at a small table, surrounded by textbooks, parchment, and ink bottles. But you weren’t reading. Your head was resting on your folded arms, face turned to the side as soft breaths escaped your lips. You had fallen asleep, completely knocked out after what must have been hours of hard studying.

Theo paused in the doorway, taking in the scene. The corners of his mouth twitched in amusement, his initial annoyance fading as he watched you sleep so peacefully amidst the chaos of your schoolwork. He shook his head, a fond smile pulling at his lips despite himself. You always did this—pushed yourself too hard, determined to get every detail just right, to master every spell and every potion. But sometimes, you didn’t know when to stop.

He approached quietly, his movements careful not to disturb you just yet. He could see the faint smudges of ink on your fingers and even a light streak on your cheek from where you’d likely brushed your hand across your face at some point. Your hair was slightly mussed, and the way you were slumped over the table looked far from comfortable.

Theo’s gaze softened as he knelt down beside you, his eyes taking in the sight of you, your peaceful expression as you slept, completely unaware of the world around you. He sighed quietly, feeling a mixture of fondness and exasperation. You always worked so hard, and he admired that about you—but Merlin, did you need to take better care of yourself.

Gently, he reached out and moved a stray strand of hair from your face, his fingers light and careful, not wanting to wake you just yet. The simple action felt oddly intimate, and Theo hesitated for a moment, his hand hovering in the air before he pulled it back, clearing his throat softly.

"Y/N," he whispered, leaning in closer so that only you could hear him. "Come on, love, you can’t sleep like this. You’re going to wake up with a stiff neck."

You stirred slightly at the sound of his voice, your brow furrowing in your sleep, but you didn’t wake. Theo chuckled quietly under his breath, shaking his head. Typical. He wasn’t sure how you could sleep so deeply on such an uncomfortable surface, but somehow you managed.

"Alright," he muttered to himself, pushing the books aside carefully to make room for you. He stood up and gently slipped his arm under your shoulders, lifting you up just enough to coax you out of your awkward sleeping position. "Let’s get you somewhere a bit more comfortable."

You blinked groggily, starting to wake up as you felt yourself being moved. "Theo?" you mumbled, your voice thick with sleep as you rubbed your eyes, looking up at him in confusion. "What… what time is it?"

"It’s late," Theo replied, his tone soft but teasing. "Late enough that you shouldn’t be here, passed out on your textbooks like this. Come on, let’s get you back to the common room."

You blinked again, still disoriented and not fully awake. "I was just… studying," you mumbled, your head lolling back toward the table as if you were ready to fall asleep again.

Theo smirked, keeping his arm around you as he gently pulled you to your feet. "Yeah, I can see that," he said, amusement lacing his voice as he guided you away from the table. "But you’re not going to learn much if you’re asleep on your notes."

You groaned softly, leaning into him as you rubbed at your eyes. "I didn’t mean to fall asleep," you muttered, half-apologetic and half-embarrassed. "I was just trying to get through the chapter on antidotes…"

Theo rolled his eyes, though his expression was more affectionate than annoyed. "Of course you were," he said, shaking his head. "You work too hard, Y/N. You need to sleep, not drown yourself in textbooks."

You gave him a sleepy smile, though your eyes were still heavy with exhaustion. "But I have to be ready for the exam," you protested weakly, your words slurring slightly as you leaned more heavily into Theo’s side.

"The exam’s still days away," Theo replied, his voice gentler now as he led you through the dimly lit corridors, back toward the Slytherin common room. "You’ll be fine. You always are."

You hummed in response, not really arguing but not entirely agreeing either. You were too tired to put up much of a fight. "Thanks for coming to get me," you murmured, your head resting against his shoulder as you let him guide you.

Theo glanced down at you, his lips quirking into a small smile. "What else would I do? Leave you to drool all over your books?"

You gave him a sleepy laugh, shaking your head. "I wasn’t drooling," you mumbled, though the blush on your cheeks suggested you weren’t entirely sure if that was true or not.

Theo chuckled, his grip on you tightening just slightly as he helped you down the last flight of stairs. "Sure, whatever helps you sleep at night," he teased.

When the two of you finally reached the common room, Theo helped you over to one of the cushioned sofas by the fire. He knelt down in front of you, his hands resting on your knees as he studied your face, making sure you were more comfortable now.

"You’re exhausted," he said softly, his voice losing its teasing edge. "Get some rest. We can go over the Potions notes tomorrow."

You nodded, your eyes already half-closed as you curled up on the sofa, the warmth of the fire making it impossible to stay awake any longer. "Okay," you mumbled, your voice barely above a whisper. "But don’t let me oversleep."

Theo smiled, standing up and grabbing a nearby blanket to drape over you. "I won’t," he promised, his voice soft. He paused for a moment, his eyes lingering on you as you drifted back to sleep, looking far more peaceful than you had back in the library.

As he turned to leave, he glanced over his shoulder one last time, a quiet smile on his face. "Goodnight, Y/N."

And with that, Theo settled into a nearby armchair, pulling out his own books—just in case you needed him when you woke up.

[pucksandpower]

Mad World

Logan Sargeant x Vowles!Reader

Summary: no matter how cruel the rest of the world may seem, Logan will always have a home with you

Logan stares blankly at James Vowles, unable to process the words coming out of his team principal’s mouth.

“I’m … I’m sorry, what?” Logan stammers, his heart pounding. This can’t be happening.

James looks immensely uncomfortable but pushes on. “Alex needs your chassis since his is too damaged and the team does not have a spare. You’ll have to withdraw from the race weekend.”

The room falls into an oppressive silence as the words sink in. Logan can feel his chance at remaining in Formula 1 next year slipping away with each agonizing second. Why is he being punished for a crash that wasn’t his fault? The questions swirl dizzily in his mind.

James regards him with remorseful eyes. “I’m sorry, Logan. There’s no other way ...”

The words hit Logan like a punch to the gut. He stares at James, numb, his mind spinning. After a long silence, he nods mutely and forces out, “I … I need a minute.�� His feet move without conscious thought, carrying him blindly down the corridors as burning tears blur his vision.

Logan’s heart pounds in his chest as he rushes through the hallway, tears streaming down his face. He can barely see where he’s going as he barrels toward his driver’s room. His breaths come in ragged gasps, the weight of James’ words crushing him.

How could they do this to him? After everything?

He fumbles with the handle, finally wrenching the door open and slamming it shut behind him. Logan leans back against it, sliding down until he’s sitting on the floor. Sobs wrack his body as the reality sinks in — he’s out for the weekend because of someone else’s mistake.

It’s not fair. None of this is fair.

His career, his dreams, his entire future flashing before his eyes, slipping away because Williams can’t get their act together. Why did they even re-sign him if they have so little faith? The questions swirl in his mind, only compounded by the hurt and anger burning in his chest.

Logan stays like that for who knows how long, gasping for air between cries that feel like they’re literally tearing him apart from the inside.

He’s so consumed by emotion that he doesn’t hear the tentative knock at first. When it comes again, louder this time, he jolts slightly, raising a hand to wipe uselessly at his tear-streaked face.

With trembling fingers, he pulls open the door, and you’re standing there. The mere sight of you breaks through the haze of devastation, if only for a moment.

You step inside without a word, wrapping your arms around him, and the dam breaks again. Fresh sobs spill out as Logan crumples against your chest, clinging to you like a lifeline while you softly hush him, guiding the two of you to the couch.

You maneuver him gently until his head is cradled in your lap, your fingers combing soothingly through his hair. “I came as soon as I heard,” you murmur, voice thick with shared pain. “I can’t believe they would do this to you because of their own mistakes. It’s not right.”

Logan tries to speak, to voice the turmoil inside him, but all that comes out is a strangled, “Why? I don’t … I don’t understand. It’s not my fault, so why am I being punished?” His words dissolve into hiccuping gasps. “They must not have faith in me at all. This … this is it, isn’t it? The end.”

You shush him again, cupping his face to brush the tears away with your thumbs. “Don’t think like that. The team is the one in the wrong here, not you.”

But the storm won’t be quelled so easily. Logan sits up abruptly, putting distance between you despite how his heart aches at the loss of your touch. “But soon I won’t even be a driver anymore,” he chokes out, meeting your eyes with his own reddened, devastated gaze. “You shouldn’t … you deserve so much better than me, Y/N. Better than someone whose career is over before it even started.”

“Logan Sargeant, don’t you dare say that.” You’re on your feet in an instant, hands on your hips in a stance he knows all too well — the fierce protectiveness that still makes his heart flutter, even now. “I am with you because I love you, every amazing, incredible part of you. Not because you’re an F1 driver, but because of the person you are.”

He can only gape at you, stunned into silence by the intensity of your words, the unwavering certainty in your tone. You step closer, cupping his face again, making him meet the blazing love and conviction in your eyes.

“I don’t care if you never race again, though you know I believe in you with everything I have. I’m not going anywhere, do you understand me? We’re in this together, always, no matter what.” You press your lips to his brow, his cheeks, finally claiming his mouth in a searing kiss that leaves him dizzy. “I love you,” you breathe against his lips. “I love you so much, Logan.”

He’s dumbstruck, overwhelmed by the ferocity of your devotion, even in the face of his lowest moment. How did he get so lucky as to have you in his life? In a heartbeat, Logan is kissing you again, tears of a different kind streaking his cheeks as he murmurs the words over and over. “I love you, I love you, I love you ...”

Eventually, you guide him back until he’s lying down on the couch once more, placing a small pillow under his head. “Get some rest, babe. You’ve been through the ringer today.”

He catches your hand before you can move away fully. “Where are you going?”

The fiery look in your eye makes his stomach flip. “I need to go have a … conversation … with my father.”

Logan lets out a teary laugh at your protective fierceness — one of the many things he loves most about you. “Yes ma’am.”

Leaning down, you brush one last lingering kiss to his forehead. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

As you turn and head for the door, Logan feels his heart swell watching your receding form. For all the hurt today has brought, he knows more than ever that he’s the luckiest man in the world to have you by his side.

As Logan drifts into an exhausted doze, his last conscious thoughts are of you — his forever, his everything — and how lucky he is to have such an amazing love in his life.

No matter what happens next.

[blushpawss]

sneaky & tricky

warning: fluff + pet names — soft!sylus tricking you into kissing him 🩷

main acc: @sushiyuzu

spoon clinking. knife clacking. the noises echoed throughout the room.

there, the moon was rising, casting a warm white glow through the large kitchen windows of sylus’s mansion. the gentle light lingered around the room, highlighting the sleek counters and the delicious aroma of something sweet. you sat at the table, bouncing with excitement, eager to see what sylus had made. the smell of fresh chocolate cake filled the air, making your stomach rumble in anticipation.

sylus appeared from the kitchen, a playful grin on his face. his silver hair glimmered in the moonlight, and his crimson eyes sparkled with mischief. he wore a simple red shirt and dark slacks, but there was something about him that always made your heart flutter. “are you ready for a treat?” he asked, his voice smooth and inviting.

you nodded eagerly while clapping your hands, your eyes wide with excitement. “i can’t wait! what did you make?”

he set a small plate in front of you, revealing a beautifully crafted piece of chocolate cake. it was layered with rich chocolate frosting, topped with fluffy whipped cream and a cherry that seemed to glisten in the light. “this is my special cake,” he announced, puffing out his chest like a proud chef. “but i need your help to make it perfect.”

“hm? my help?” you questioned, tilting your head in confusion, curious about what he meant.

“yes, sweetheart. i need you to taste it,” he said, his voice turning more serious as he leaned in slightly, making you feel like you were sharing a secret. “but first, i need you to take a bite from my fork. it’s the only way to do it right.”

you giggled at his seriousness, finding it adorably silly. “okay, i’ll do it!” you replied, leaning forward in your chair, excited for this playful moment.

he held the fork in front of you, the piece of cake perfectly balanced and ready to be eaten. “lean in closer,” he instructed, his voice soft and smooth, almost like a gentle whisper that sent shivers down your spine. you leaned forward, your heart racing with anticipation as you prepared to take a bite.

just as you were about to open your mouth, sylus leaned forward too. in one swift motion, he caught your lips with his, surprising you completely. your eyes widened, and for a moment, you were frozen in shock. the surprise took your breath away, and you felt your cheeks heat up as you realized what had just happened.

he pulled back, a smug smile plastered on his face, leaving your mouth agape in both shock and disbelief. “gotcha,” he teased, his eyes twinkling with delight.

you couldn’t help but burst into laughter, the warmth of his kiss still lingering on your lips. “you sneaky crow! you tricked me!” you exclaimed, playfully pushing him away, though your smile betrayed your enjoyment of the moment.

“it was a perfect plan,” he said, leaning back in his chair, clearly pleased with himself. he crossed his arms, a playful challenge in his eyes. “and now you have to admit that kissing me was the best part.”

“maybe,” you replied, still giggling, your heart fluttering at the thought. “but what about the cake? you promised me dessert!”

sylus picked up the fork again, taking a bite of the cake himself. “delicious,” he said, savoring the rich flavor as he closed his eyes for a moment. “but i think it tastes better when shared.”

“how do you mean?” you asked, intrigued by his playful tone.

“like this,” he said, holding the fork in front of you once more. but this time, he leaned closer, his lips just inches away from yours. “if you lean in, we can taste it together.”

you couldn’t help but laugh, feeling your heart race again. this time, you knew what to expect. you leaned in, ready to take a bite of the cake. as you opened your mouth, sylus brought the fork to you, letting you take a bite. the rich chocolate melted in your mouth, and you savored the sweetness.

“mm, this is amazing!” you exclaimed, your eyes lighting up with joy. “you really outdid yourself!”

“i aim to please,” he replied, his voice playful. he leaned in closer, the moment feeling electric between you. “but we can’t forget the best part.”

before you could respond, he leaned in again, capturing your lips with his once more. this kiss was softer, more lingering, and your heart swelled with happiness. you melted into the moment, feeling giddy and light, as if you were floating.

when you pulled back, both of you were breathless, laughter bubbling up between you. “next time, i won’t let you trick me,” you said, trying to sound serious but failing miserably.

“oh, but where’s the fun in that?” he replied, his eyes sparkling with mischief. he leaned back, his confidence shining through. “i’ll always find a way to surprise you, kitten.”

you couldn’t help but smile at the nickname he always used for you. it made you feel special and cherished. “just wait until i get you back,” you challenged playfully, narrowing your eyes at him. “i’ll think of something really clever!”

“i’m looking forward to it,” he said with a grin. “but until then, we have cake to enjoy.”

the kitchen was filled with happy laughter as you and sylus stood side by side, sharing the sweet dessert. sylus smiled playfully as he held a fork with a piece of cake, bringing it up to your lips. “here, take a bite, kitten,” he said softly.

you leaned in, tasting the rich chocolate and soft whipped cream. it was delicious, but what made it even sweeter was the way sylus was watching you with that warm, teasing look in his eyes. “mm, so good,” you said, smiling back at him. “your turn.”

you took the fork and carefully picked up a piece for him. as you held it up, sylus leaned closer, taking the bite, his lips brushing your fingers just a little. your heart raced, and you couldn't help but smile at how close he was. “you’re good at this,” you teased.

“maybe i’m just enjoying it more because you're here,” sylus replied with a soft chuckle.

you both kept taking turns feeding each other, the playful energy making everything feel light and fun. every time sylus brought the fork near your lips, he’d grin, as if he was planning something. you laughed each time, loving the way he made everything feel so easy and happy.

“you know,” sylus said after another bite, “we’re making a lot of good memories with this cake.”

“mhm,” you agreed, feeling warmth spread in your chest. “i’ll never forget this.”

each bite became a little slower, as if neither of you wanted the moment to end. the dessert was good, but it was the way you and sylus were together, laughing and sharing, that made it special. the kitchen, the cake, and the sweet connection between you—it was all perfect.

[chxrryhansen]

4.   rafe finding reader's toys she has and using them all on her at once because his ego is all like “I’m not good enough or something? Fine!”

-💎

i’m so sorry i literally just realised you asked for him to use them all on her after, i didn’t see it until i was just about to post, sorry if i disappointed <3

₊♡₊˚ 🎀・₊✧

you stood from the couch in shock as rafe burst through the living room door, his messy bangs sticking to his forehead and his face red with fury and a medium size box in his hands, the rage in his eyes clear.

“rafe wha-“

he threw the box into your lap, his hands settling on his hips as he stared you down with his dark blues.

“what. the. fuck. is. this?” his tone calmer than usual which immediately put you on edge, and causing an eery feeling to rise in your stomach.

looking down at the box you stilled, a bright pink 7 inch dildo staring straight back at you, along side your pretty purple vibrator. swallowing heavily you looked up at him through your lashes, rafe sneered.

“what the fuck is this shit huh? what yo-you think that im not good enough or somethn’ ? hiding that shit from me, did you really think i wouldn’t find out? huh? you thought that i- that i wouldn’t find out that my own girlfriends a-a needy fuckin’ cock whore?”

his anger was visible through his clenched fists as he rambled, pacing back and forth in-front of you.

“rafe i-i swear i haven’t used them since i met you, i don’t even need them anymo-”

he scoffed, throwing his hands in the air in mock understanding before swiftly moving to grip your jaw in a tight grip. you hated when he got like this, when his jealousy and insecurity took over there was no grounding rafe cameron. you should’ve known there was no point in trying to argue with him, he always wins. every single time.

“you’re a fuckin’ liar. you’re a lying fuckin’ whore. this dick not good enough for you, hmm? i’ll fuckin’ show you.” he murmured. you held his hand in your own, planting your feet and making a move to stand on shaky legs.

not on his watch.

rafe gripped your shoulders, roughly throwing you back down onto the couch, face down, before pulling up your skirt and tearing your panties in half. you keened, gasping at the sensation of cool air hitting your bare cunt.

your gasp quickly turned to a scream as rafe pummelled his cock into your pussy, no warning, no preparation, nothing. with one thrust he was balls deep, bottoming out into your cervix and sending tears streaming down your flushed cheeks. “fuck rafe!” you cried, the pain overwhelming.

he didn’t care. in his mind you deserved it. i mean, how dare you use his hole without permission? thoughtlessly shoving another cock in his cunt.

“shut the fuck up, you dumb bitch. i really gotta’ teach you the basics all over again, huh? this is my pussy, y’hear me? mine. say it, tell me who’s pussy this is.” he growled, his hips slamming into your plump ass from behind, the sound of skin clapping filling the room, his thick hand wrapped around your hair and tugging roughly.

“yours! it’s your pussy. i’m sorry, daddy. i’m so s-” you wailed into the cushion as rafe pushed your head back down into the couch.

“damn right it is, and did i give you permission to put some other cock in my pussy? caus’ i swear i didn’t.” he laughed manically, drowning out your cries. his thrusts becoming heavier, his thick length driving into your cervix with every pump.

“didn’t your ma ever tell you not to touch other peoples toys?”

[beomiracles]

Kai thigh fucking..

I think I’m gonna jump off a bridge with a bomb strapped to my back

��� 𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 ⌝

DREAM RECALL When waking up in the middle of the night, your horny boyfriend can't think of anything more enticing than your soft thighs.

wc -> 1k

PAIRINGS hueningkai x fem!reader WARNINGS somnophilia, dubious consent that turns into consent, pervy/horny kai, thigh fucking !

#serene adds ✎.. DON'T PLAY WITH ME I'LL GET MESSY. anyway, if you've got an extra bomb...lend me it :3 we can jump the two of us, like those angsty movies where the main characters commit together !

this isn't proofread ..

Kai liked watching you sleep. Not in a sick and perverted way of course, more in a loving-like manner. He takes in your slumbering form, lips slightly parted as you take slow and steady breaths. Your hair sticks to your forehead, shielding half of your face from him, he brushes it back gently, tucking some behind your ear. 

His eyes travel down the rest of your body, and perhaps he lingered a little too long by your chest. Biting the inside of his cheek as his gaze gets stuck on the way your perked nipples poke through the thin material of the tank top you’d thrown on a couple of hours earlier. — It wasn’t in a perverted way of course, he simply thought his girlfriend was pretty. 

Gentle fingers trace your side, stopping by your waist as his index and middle finger gently drum against your skin. He gulps as his eyes flicker down to your bare legs, plush thighs squeezed together, the same thighs that would close around his head whenever he ate you out, the thighs he pushed against your chest as he pounded into you, or the thighs that would cage him in whenever you sat on his face. They were so perfect for him to grab, to rest his head on, to litter in kisses, to fuck. 

Okay so maybe he was a little perverted. But it wasn’t Kai’s fault that his love for you made him so incredibly hard. — With a small grunt he shifts on the bed, screwing his eyes shut as he tries to sleep the desire off. He thinks he might succeed, but then you yawn, letting out a soft whine as you squirm on the mattress. And Kai is wide awake again, eyes shooting open as they immediately seize your thighs, the way the soft flesh rubbed together as you got comfortable in your sleep. 

“Fucking hell”, he mutters, reaching a tentative hand down his sweats as he palms his stiff cock through his briefs. It’s okay, he tells himself, he’ll just have to be a little quiet, no harm done right? With that gameplan in mind, Kai ventures beneath his boxers to grab ahold of his weeping dick, muffling a groan as he bites onto his free hand. 

He watches you, the way your chest moves as you inhale and exhale, the way your nose scrunches occasionally. And even though he tries to not give in, his eyes unwillingly drift back to your thighs, feeling his jaw go slack as he imagines the way they would feel around him. — No, he won’t. But it’s almost torture, to have you in front of him like this, your body so pliantly waiting to be used. 

His desperate whine echoes out onto the pillow as he buries his face against it, determined to not catch another glimpse of you. — Kai, of course, fails, and it’s not long before he lifts his head from the comforter in need of fresh air, gaze almost immediately falling on your exposed legs. “Fuck me”, he curses, feeling his last of bit of self restraint evaporate as he pulls himself from his sweats, shifting in order to get closer to your sleeping figure. 

“M’sorry”, he whispers as his large hands caress your soft thighs, hooking his fingers under your knee as he lifts one of your legs. Kai almost whimpers as he slides his hard cock between your plush thighs, his already wet shaft making it easy for him to squeeze between the plump flesh. His head falls to your shoulder, teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he fights to stay somewhat composed. 

His hips jerk forward, cock easily slipping in and out of your shut legs as he coats you in his arousal. The guilt and the shame slowly subsides as he becomes overridden by pleasure, hand grasping at your hip as he keeps you in place. — You mumble something under your breath, the sound coming out as a small moan and Kai twitches between your thighs. 

And he’s so drunk on the way you feel, the way your body unknowingly invites him in, urges him on even further, that he completely misses the way you stir against him, only able to feel the way you shift against his aching cock. — He thinks he might come any second now, his high within an arm's reach as he ruts into your thighs. 

“K-Kai..?”

Your voice is laced with sleep, but it’s still loud enough for him to hear and he thinks he might actually just die on the spot. Immediately stilling, Kai lets out a small whine-like sound as he sought  to come up with any kind of explanation. Ridden with shame, he buries his face deeper in the crook of your neck. This was it, this was when you would break up with him, tell him that he’s a sick weirdo and that you wanted nothing more to do with him. 

But you don’t. Instead you reach a tired hand behind your back, fingers quickly finding the tip of his cock, protruding through your shut legs and Kai groans against your skin. “You close?” You wonder in a groggy tone and he nods, breathing out a small “yes”, barely loud enough for you to catch. You hum, fingers teasing his slit and Kai’s hips desperately jerk forward as he slips further in between your thighs. 

Your free hand is in his hair, gently tugging at the longer locks and he swears he saw a shooting star. — And when he does finally finish between your legs, his teeth graze the skin of your neck as he cries out. Continuing to fuck himself dumb against you as pathetic “thank you’s” and “sorry’s” leave his blabbering lips. It’s not until the high has fully subsided that reality slowly seems to set in for him and he pulls back with a sheepish look on his flushed face. 

He finds you already looking at him with a sleep dazed expression as you slowly blink. “You woke me up.” You calmly state and Kai opens his mouth to apologize once more but you cut him off. “Make up for it, will you?” — Not having to be told twice, he immediately slides down between your legs as he tugs your panties off.

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[bbunnyyy]

Desire

/dɪˈzʌɪə/ noun A strong feeling of wanting to have something or wishing for something to happen.

!! WARNING !! smutty themes f!reader x aizawa.

☁︎ Aizawa's touch felt like a fresh breath, your bodies flush against each other. ☁︎

Summary: You and Aizawa end up getting stuck in one of the storage rooms in the left wing- not frequently visited. The tension in the air and the lack of space result in something...more.

A/N: hehe :3

A song to enjoy while reading this: if u think i'm pretty ⚬ Artemas

Your eyes fixated on Aizawa's back as his shoulders moved slightly with each step he took. He wasn't in that same old hero attire for once, since there was a press event today. You admired his chiselled figure that was poking through the white shirt and tight pants he was wearing. You swallowed, noticing how much bigger he was than you. The classrooms were running low on paper, which made Aizawa sigh and beckon you to follow him to the storage rooms to grab a few boxes of materials he needed.

Biting your bottom lip, you thought about how the last few weeks with Aizawa had been. Each moment was so warm, yet strangely sensual. It came so easily between you two. Lost in thought, you bumped into a wall- the wall making an 'oof' sound. Since when did walls make those kinds of sounds? Turns out, what you thought was a wall wasn't a wall at all.

"Still sore from yesterday, L/N?" He said smirking, referencing your sparring session. "Maybe." You said dryly, pouting while looking away. Aizawa responded by resting his hand on the small of your back. Your eyes made contact with his inky ones. He maintained the contact, tilting his head as if asking you if something was wrong. Swallowing, he turned away and continued walking in silence.

Aizawa switched on the light, commenting on how dusty it was In there. "Hold the door open for me, need space to get the boxes out," he mumbled, moving to the racks stacked with various boxes labelled with markers in bold lettering. You held the weighted grey door open, waiting for him to grab the materials he needed. Aizawa walked right into a rack, making the boxes tumble.

"Aizawa!" You exclaimed as you lunged forward in an attempt to pull him away. His body stumbled into yours. "I could have taken care of myself, L/N." Aizawa stated, just as a soft click was heard behind you two. You looked at him, whose mouth was slightly open out of shock. Well, this was awkward. You laughed nervously- "Oops?"

"I hope you do remember neither of us have the keys to open this door?" Aizawa stated, rolling his eyes. He tried moving around, your body now facing the door. Aizawa grit his teeth, throwing his head back in frustration. All this moving wasn't helping. The air felt stiff and heavy, the smell of cardboard boxes filling the air. Your chest pressed against the door, and his body clung to yours from behind- no space to move around now. Looking at the floor, you breathed out trying to think while tapping your heels on the floor anxiously.

The tension in the air could be cut with a knife. Aizawa breathed heavily into your ear, bringing you back to the present situation. "Stop moving." He commanded, his voice deeper than usual. You tried looking back to take a look at his face, but his fingers dug into the flesh on your hips. "I told you to stop moving." Aizawa breathed out, punctuating each word with a firm silence. He sounded like he was...out of breath? You didn't understand why, opening your mouth to say something sarcastic when you felt something poke your bottom half.

Aizawa pushed you forward, using his body. You pressed your hands on the shut door, trying to support yourself. He pushed into you, almost out of instinct, a moan slipping out of his mouth, smooth like honey. "I'm- sorry." Aizawa said, his hard-on pressed firm into your ass. "There's no space to mo-"

"You don't sound very sorry." You stated, trying to sound confident but just as nervous if not more than Aizawa. "L/NNhh-" Aizawa breathed into your ear, feeling around your pockets for your phone. "I think we're past last names now," you stated, out of breath yourself- unable to believe this was actually happening. Aizawa hummed, his hips pressed into yours as his hands patted your pockets. His breath was hot and heavy, the moment felt so intimate despite the awkwardness and lack of professionalism. Pulling your phone out, you rested your head against his chest as he switched on your phone. "Fuck." There's no signal here.

"I guess we're stuck here for a while then, aren't we?" You joked, pushing back at him.

[crypticminx]

lowkey need subby Nate being embarrassed but he can’t help it

LOVE SEEING THIS MAN FALL TO HIS KNEES- here you go my darling enjoy!! Smutttt ahead xoxo

𐙚₊˚⊹ᡣ𐭩 𐙚₊˚⊹ᡣ𐭩 𐙚₊˚⊹ᡣ𐭩 𐙚₊˚⊹ᡣ𐭩 𐙚₊˚⊹ᡣ𐭩 𐙚₊˚⊹ᡣ𐭩 𐙚₊˚⊹ᡣ𐭩 𐙚₊˚⊹ᡣ𐭩

It’s nate who can’t believe you’re the one who’s made him utterly head over heels for you. It’s a burning sensation, the one you provide him, and he’s unable to shift away from it. He desires you more than anything, he’s devoted to you and hell, he’d do absolutely anything for you, even if it costs the very preserved man to feel embarrassed—something he wasn’t used to feeling, especially from a girl like you.

When the two of you are intimate, he’s begging for you to let him have a taste, the sight of your naked body on display for him is like art, the beauty of your busty breasts and your wet little pussy sprawled in front of him like it’s nothing, makes him feel so drawn with hunger for you.

You act like you’re not interested in him, like he’s a second fucking choice from a long list of unworthy boys you can pick from and it drives him insane.

“Fuck,” he groans, the feeling of his dick growing hard with pressure makes him crack. He’s weak for you and needs to have you, but you’re not letting him get you that easy.

You’re the one in charge, you give him demanding orders, stating very carefully that if he wants to have you—if he wants to savour you with all his might, he’s gonna have to work for it.

“Play with yourself,” your soft voices purrs, your eyes growing wide with pleasure seeing the man stunned that he can’t wither his way into you as hes done many times with various girls.

He’s flustered, he can feel his throat grow thick and he tries to hide away the radiating stains of red on his cheeks, but it’s no good. He stammers with his words, trying to reason why he can’t just fuck you right then and there.

But it’s hot.

You’re so damn hot, he doesn’t even dare to question it.

As you tilt your head as you lay across his bed, watching the scene in front of you unfold, you know you have full control over him.

He pulls down his pants, you’ve seen that his dick is already twitching to puncture your insides. He spits on his hand, he knows you like it when he does unruly things like that. And slowly but surely, his damp palm strokes his cock up and down. Thick strokes make his dark doe eyes feel hazy with lust.

His motions turn rapid once he sees you begin to touch your breasts, the slight bounce of your boobs as your hard nipples peak through your fingers make him wish he could wrap his tongue around them. Sucking them until you beg him to stop. However, that wasn’t going to happen.

“Y/n,” it sounds like a whimper—a desperate plea, he’s so close to cuming but he doesn’t want to do it until he can be in you and so once you’ve had enough of watching Nate jerk himself off, you allow him to join you on the bed.

His large frame towers over you and just as he’s about to settle his position of being on top, you stop him.

“No no no, Nate,” you grin wide with a sinful smile, “I’m on top, baby.”

He chuckles, his forehead is sweaty and he can feel tiny bits of precum exit himself, but he can’t afford to let a single drop go to waste.

You push him down as he falls with grace into the scattered pillows behind him, holding your body as you sit with ease on his cock. Your warm lips glide on his throbbing cock, easily making the two of you wet as he finally can let himself go.

You stir back and forth, aggressively riding him as you let out an angelic moan. His tight grip of your arms let go and you place your hands on his chest, furthering yourself deeper until he hits the right spot.

He wants to cum so bad, he’s dying for it, but he’s not going to do so until he hears his girl let him.

“Baby,” he begs again, such a strong man whining for your command makes you feel even more wet. The pressure in the air feels lust worthy and you arch your head beg as you clutch your hands with his, interlocking deeply as you can feel the eagerness of his cock ready to pulse.

He’s amazed that the two of you aren’t using protection, he’d always been so careful before. You liked to take risks and so did he.

“Fuck, I can’t-“ he groans, watching your eyes slowly roll back, your hair messily flowing as you bounce on him.

“Cum in me,” you finally let him and your wish is his command.

He happily releases himself as he’s got you overstimulated. He loves watch you get lost in the moment that’s making sweet love to you.

After all, there wasn’t anything he loved more than you.

[minminbunny]

ABO AU - Alpha! Hwang Hyunjin/Omega! Gender Neutral Reader

💕Drabble Masterlist

❤️Ultimate Masterlist

"I'm going to be late," you whined, grabbing your art supplies as you sprinted to the studio. Hyunjin hummed, setting up the object models while he waited. You barged into the studio, "Sorry!" you exclaimed, catching your breath. Hyunjin chuckled, handing you a towel, "Relax. We have all day, pup," he said, ruffling your hair. You exhaled deeply, wiping the sweat off your skin. Hyunjin took your supplies and set them up, "There's water by the table, take a sip and we can start," he said, priming his canvas. You did as told and drank the water, "What's our model this time?" you asked, taking a seat next to him. Hyunjin hummed, "The Clematis flower, it's the symbol for beauty of the heart," he said, painting the background of his canvas. You nodded, "That's quite the meaning," you said, slowly feeling yourself get attached to the project. "Right? It would be interesting to see how we interpret it in our styles," he said, making gentles strokes with his brush. You did the same, letting the flow of the moment guide you when your neck get warm, "Shit," you murmured, trying to rub off your scent.

Hyunjin perked up, his nose flooded with the scent of thick jasmine and mint. You pulled up your hood, "Sorry, Hyun. I forgot my suppressor," you said, tightening the string into a bow. Hyunjin shook his head, "It's alright, pup. I can handle it," he said, crossing his legs to hide his obvious bulge. You beamed, "Thank you, Jinnie," you said, continuing your painting. Hyunjin gulped, his adam's apple bobbing hard against his throat, 'Think gross things, a stinky sock, Gymracha after a workout, fuck, fuck, I can't do this,' he thought, clenching his jaw. He gripped his paintbrush tight and gently placed it down so it doesn't spook you, "I think I need some fresh air, puppy," Hyunjin said, standing up. You nodded, "Oh, okay. I'll just be here," you said, cleaning your brush.

NSFW BELOW CUT

Hyunjin fauxed a smile and waddled his way to the upstairs. He pushed the door open and slumped himself against the wall, "Holy shit, their scent is everywhere," he whined, tugging down his sweatpants. Hyunjin hissed, instantly wrapping his slender fingers around his lengthy cock. His cockhead leaked down his shaft, slicking up his palm with precum. "Hah, puppy. So sweet and warm," he gasped, stroking his cock in a relentless pace. His knot throbbed at the neglect, aching to fill up an Omega's tight ribbed hole but his fist would have to do. You raised an eyebrows, wondering what's taking Hyunjin so long, "Hyun?" you called out, making your way up the stairs but no reply. Hyunjin pumped his cock, his head tossed back against the wall without a care of being caught. You pushed out the door, shivers went down your spine at the strong scent of musk and skin slapping rang through your ears. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, puppy. Please suck my cock," he babbled to himself not realizing you were right there.

You gulped, kneeling between his legs, the tip of his cock begging to releasing. 'Should I do this?' You thought, hesitant of succumbing to the lust. Hyunjin groaned out your name, his eyes shut tight as his back arched. 'Fuck it,' you thought, wrapping your lips around his messy cockhead. "Hah, ah, ah?" he gasped, staring down at you with hooded eyes. You grabbed the base of his cock and bobbed your head up and down his shaft. Hyunjin gritted his teeth, "Fuck!" he cried out, wrapping his fingers through your hair as he began thrusting up your throat. You exhaled through your nose, taking as much as his cock down your throat. "Good puppy, so fucking tight," he growled, using your throat like a flesh light. You felt your head spin, your lips barely grazing the growing knot. "Deep breaths, love," he grit, pushing your head down his cock. Your whined around his shaft, your cheeks stretched to accommodate his pulsing knot. Hyunjin growled, his flared cockhead breaching your throat with a squelchy pop, "That's it, good puppy. So good," he whispered, stroking your hair when he came. You swallowed as much as you could, his knot had your jaw locked in position and it was slowly getting sore. Hyunjin hummed, stroking your jaw, "I know, little omega. I know. It'll swell down soon, Alpha promise," he reassured, pampering kisses all over your messy face.

[magpiepills]

Downward Dog

Rating: EXPLICIT 18+ MDNI

Pairing: Joel Miller x f reader

Word count: 1.1k

Summary: Joel’s back in the window again.

Warnings: SMUT, voyeurism, creepy perv behavior, dirty talk, male masturbation, PWP, little sprinkle of daddy cause I love you.

A word from the author: 🤷‍♀️ idk, man. You tell me.

Read Part 1 Here 🧘‍♀️

Read Part 3 Here

Masterlist

For six days Joel watched you. Every afternoon at one o’clock your husband drove off and shortly after you’d saunter out to the yard in some skin tight little get-up and bend and twist your body in ways that were just between you and him. The sound of your husband’s truck became a Pavlovian bell, and Joel’s cock would rush with blood when he heard it.

Today he was ready and waiting when you made your appearance. He had switched off the light, dragged his two step stool into position, and sat perched in an old tshirt, shorts and boxers draped over the stair rail, and lube warming in the bottle between his big, paddle-like hands.

He had the perfect vantage point and a trusty routine.

Joel ignores his erection until you’re ready. He waits with anticipation prickling up his neck, silently urging you to get a move on.

It’s hot out and your yard doesn’t have much shade like Joel’s does. He wishes you’d come do your workout by his pool. Maybe he should mention it, he thinks.

Slowly you begin, as you often do, arms up, tits out. He likes that part. He likes it better when you bend forward onto your knees, hands outstretched and ass up. Joel imagines taking you from behind while you stay just like that. Naked and bouncing back onto his cock, crying out for him.

Joel pulls lazily at his cock as he watches you with interest. He can’t remember being so hard before. He isn’t a young man anymore, but your little display is like Viagra. He’s long and thick, never had any complaints from the ladies. Not about his cock, at least.

As you push your hips up into what looks like an upside down letter V, Joel reaches for the little bottle of lube that normally lives in his bedside drawer, but lately just sits on the bookshelf by the stairs.

Those big hands are good for a lot of things, but being good with small objects isn’t one of them. He fumbles the bottle and it rolls onto the stairs.

“Fuck,” he breathes, and tries to quickly weigh the pros and cons of tearing his eyes away from you to go after it.

He sighs, frustrated and impatient, but goes to get his lube. It’s easier to pretend his fist is your tight cunt with the added wetness.

Back in his seat, Joel quickly finds you again.

“Fuck me,” he complains, blinking.

His eyes must be deceiving him. He must be having a stroke, he thinks, it’s what he deserves.

He blinks hard and squints, cursing himself for not getting the binoculars so he can watch even more closely as you look around shyly at your empty, privacy fence-enclosed back yard, left to the Smith’s house, then right to his, never noticing your secret admirer. Apparently satisfied that you’re alone and hidden, you gather the fabric of your top and lift it over your head.

Joel thinks his heart may have stopped. He watches the bounce of your bare breasts as they drop from the tight fabric. Despite the warmth of the day and the sweat shimmering on your skin already, your nipples pebble when touched by the air. He wants so badly to take them in his hands, his mouth.

Joel’s mouth waters. He should look away, but his hand is already twisting up and down his shaft.

“Fuck baby. Yeah, get 'em out for me,” he mutters through clenched teeth.

You fan yourself with your hand, no match for the Austin heat, and flow through two more deep stretches. You’re moving slowly, and Joel matches the jerk of his fist to your pace, humming and groaning as he talks you through his fantasy.

“That’s it, spread those knees for daddy. Let me see that little pussy. Show daddy where you need his cock.”

He grunts, heavy breaths between ragged moans of your name and each new vulgar thought.

“You gonna take it all? You sure you can handle it? Suck it. Come on. Come on, show me how bad you want this big dick,” he speaks for no one to hear.

Joel knows how to get himself off. He knows how to edge himself just to the point of losing control then backing off to make the pleasure last. He breathes deeply and strokes gently around the thick base of his cock, cradling his balls.

It’s during this shift in momentum when Joel loses the battle. He can no longer be the good man he told himself he was. Not when you stand and shimmy out of your leggings, leaving nothing more to his imagination or his decency.

You’re barely into your lunge when his post is abandoned and he’s pulling his shorts on to dash down the stairs and opening the patio door as quietly as he can. He ducks down, skulking through his own yard to crouch down next to the fence, knees in the dirt, amongst the ornamental grass and the azaleas he planted for his ex wife.

Joel is hyper aware of every sound, every move he makes. He struggles to control his breathing as he leans his forehead against the fence, one crazed, lust-blackened eye peering between the slats to get a glimpse of you, barely ten feet away now.

Painfully hard, and smearing lube inside his shorts, he watches you. He will let himself feel guilt and shame later, right now all he wants to feel is the soft lips of your pussy dragging over his nose and mouth and chin. He wants you gushing over his face. You’re so close he swears he can smell you, sweet and damp, ready to be filled. On his hands and knees like a fucking dog, he thinks for a moment, then pulls his heavy cock back out to resume his torment.

You’re almost done. He can tell by the way you lie back on the mat, arms and legs loose and eyes closed. He can see the rise and fall of your belly with each breath, but his focus is on your cunt. He’s almost done.

His vision is tunneled, his mind is blank and when your hand drifts lazily to cup your pussy, tracing your fingertips up the seam. You lift one knee to open yourself to your own hand and Joel can’t stop the gasp that escaped him as he comes, painting the dirt below him with his spend.

Shame sets in fast, it makes his belly ache as he catches his breath, softening cock against his thigh, mud on his knees. He’s quickly consumed by it, swears to never do this again, this isn’t who he is, he scolds himself.

He wishes he could convince you of the same when you appear suddenly over the fence, eyes wide with understandable alarm at having heard your neighbor groaning as if in pain, and run to his aid only to find him peeking through the fence, dick wet and face flushed.

[prettiedup]

prettiest thing cont ❀˖°

pls do excuse any typos !

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“what about sasha?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“what time is it?” you ask him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“where are you?” she asks.

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

“onyankopon’s house.” you admit. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“eren’s.” she says quietly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

₊˚⊹ ♡ ʚ🎀ɞ ♡ ⊹˚

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“gone on.” she repeats firmer. 

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

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

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

₊˚⊹ ♡ ʚ🎀ɞ ♡ ⊹˚

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“are you ready?” sasha asks you. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 ₊˚⊹ ♡ ʚ🎀ɞ ♡ ⊹˚

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 ₊˚⊹ ♡ ʚ🎀ɞ ♡ ⊹˚

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“he might be onto something.” zinnia comments.

“oh, please!” sasha responds defensively.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“it would be nice.” you giggle shyly.

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

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

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

 ₊˚⊹ ♡ ʚ🎀ɞ ♡ ⊹˚

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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[tojipie]

BABES i love ur writing sm ugh can i request a how prisoner toji met the love of his life? mwah thank you

prison bf series linked here !

content: (p in v smut, car sex, fluff, angst, fem!reader)

you met toji on a weeknight during the short time you worked as a waiter in the city.

the restaurant was empty, save for him at a table in the corner. it was 30 mins before closing time, and the older man showed no signs of leaving. whether that was to your chagrin or your delight was still unclear.

“so that’s the foie gras and the bottle of La Grande Dame?” you ask sleepily, setting the meal down with a shaky hand.

“that’s right.” the raven haired man tells you, pouring himself a glass of the ridiculously pricey wine. “thanks kid.”

to say that you were nervous would be an understatement, you were terrified. the man in front of you was gorgeous, broad with raven hair and a deep scar running the height of his lips. you’d be blushing if it weren’t for the fatigue that’d settled throughout the length of your body. 9 hour shifts were no joke.

toji glances over at you, taking in the tremble of your hands. you’re a sweet little thing, probably new to the college you attend, working past midnight to pay off whatever you still owe from last semester.

“hey.” he whispers, motioning to the table, “sit down for a little.”

you glance around the restaurant in horror, he’s not talking to you right? he can’t be. you slowly let him lead you into the chair that lies opposite to his, sighing at the relief you feel in your thighs and shoulders.

“thank you.” you mumble, laying your head down on the cool wood of table. he chuckles at that, watching you rub the aches from your neck and shoulders. you don’t care who sees, much less if this interaction costs you your job.

“tired?” he teases, pushing his plate towards you.

“have some, pretty girls need to eat.”

“mm no thank you. i don’t like duck.” you mumble, letting the deep bass of his laughter lull you right to sleep.

you were fired within minutes, that much is obvious. doomed to hand in your little name tag and apron while the raven haired man bickers with your manager at the door.

“you call yourself a businessman? you work her like a fucking dog and you think that makes you a pimp or something? i told her to nap. she fucking needed the sleep!”

you tug on the sleeve of his suit jacket, urging him to follow you out the door. toji sighs, running hand through his hair.

“it’s ok.” you tell him, “i was gonna quit before spring break came anyways.”

sleeping on the job at a Michelin star restaurant probably wasn’t the best course of action. though it wasn’t all bad, you did end up receiving the best fuck of your life that same night.

“oh my god—fuck! oh my god.” you pant, digging your fingernails into the driver’s seat headrest. the raven haired man ruts into you from below, wrapping both hands around your waist to use as leverage.

“shit, you’re a nice piece of ass kid.” he mutters, reaching down to rub your little button with the pad of his thumb. you feel your stomach erupt in flames at the crude compliment. why hadn’t you tried fucking customers before?

you hang onto the back of the seat for dear life, wailing as you drip all over his thighs.

“look, that’s all for me?” he asks, pulling your cheeks apart to see where the two of you connect. the older man leans forward to suck on your neck, voice shaky with the force of his impending climax.

“you’re gonna make me fucking cum, you know that? fuck.” the way he holds you so sweetly deeply contrasts the filth he spews right into your skin. you’ve never been this cock-drunk in your life, babbling nonsense in the back of a horrifyingly spacious bmw while a man you met an hour ago pummels your cunt open.

it’s quiet as the two of you drive back to your place. toji’s suit jacket is draped around your shoulders, shielding you from the frigid night air. the windows are cracked to let the cold in, no doubt to try and get all the glass in the car to unfog.

jesus. you just want to go to bed.

“this is me.” you tell him, gathering your bag from the floor to enter your apartment. the raven haired stranger slips you a card with a number on it. you pocket it and thank him, giddy at his implication of seeing you again.

“i had fun tonight.” you tell him shyly, leaning over to peck the scar on his mouth. he groans, pulling you towards him to kiss your forehead.

“you take care of yourself ok? no more dead end jobs.” you nod, kissing him again.

“here.” he says sternly, slipping a rubber-banded roll of cash through the opening in your purse.

you pause, stomach turning sour at the gesture.

“i’m not a hooker, you don’t need to pay me just because we had sex.” you mutter, digging in your bag to give the money back.

“you know that’s not why i gave it to you.” he tells you plainly. tucking a loose strand of your behind your ear.

“do what you need to do, pay off what you need to pay, and then call me so i can take you out on a real date.”

you pause, looking at the ground shyly.

“ok?” he asks.

you nod, reaching to intertwine your fingers.

“ok.”

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@honeybee54321 @m150-50up @kuryoomi @t4naiis @serendippindots @sillyalo @levixbby @powerrwa @tojishugetiddies

[n0tamused]

Hello! If requests are open, I would love yo request something

Would you be willing to write about Ratio comforting his s/o who's mental health is not the greatest (by which I mean awful)

Head canons, a little drabble, whatever you're most comfortable with

- 🦐

Contents: Dr. Ratio x GN reader, angst, turns to fluff, overworked and stressed reader, depression. Hope you enjoy this shrimp anon!<3

Words: 2275

Rises of the moon

‘I will not come in today, I’m sorry. I am still not well enough for work, but hopefully tomorrow I will be.’ 

You stared at the message yet to be sent, the phone feeling like a brick instead with the weight of it pulling you down into the ground and into the abyss. Talking was exhausting, yet sending the message seemed like an even more arduous task to complete. Your reputation waited, and you’d throw it away simply because you couldn’t type out a sentence good enough to send, a sentence that could save you some questioning and some dignity? 

Like a trap door your mind opened beneath you, your worst critic and the source of the distress. You felt like you were falling endlessly and hitting rock bottom all at once, making days and hours converge together until nothing but dust blinded you alongside your tears. 

‘I will not come in today. I am still not well enough for work, hopefully tomorrow I will be.’

The letters stared back at you.

‘Good morning, I will not be coming in this morning either, my health is not yet improved for the work environment. With kind regards- (Y/n)(L/n)’

Send, just send it, send. 

Before you can look at the message once more your hand grips the phone hard enough to press into the button at the side, making the screen go dark and after that you don't try to turn it on. Instead, you curled up on your side, your bed feeling like spare traces of comfort you could still grasp on with your phone getting lost amidst the blankets and pillows you hoarded up around you. Sleep had evaded you this night as well, overtaken by more important tasks of weeping over imperfect papers and reports. It’s been three days, today is the fourth. How much longer will they take that sorry excuse before they bring your integrity into question? You didn’t want to know.

Tomorrow, you told yourself. Tomorrow will be better (I’ll pretend).

After what felt like hours of laying in your bed, hoping to outlive the rumbling of your stomach, you finally dragged yourself out and roamed your home for some more, glancing at the trash can full of crumpled papers and the broken glass cup you accidentally pushed off the table the night before. Opening your fridge you could only relish in the cold breeze that licked up your neck and face, but the food held within looked no more appetizing than the night before. You stood there for a while longer, waiting if suddenly, by some chance, you may get a craving for a slice of cheese or perhaps a pepper instead.

Around half an hour later your ears were grated by the sudden ring of the bell, which snapped you out of whatever damp thought you had at the time. You weren’t expecting anyone - matter of fact, you told your close ones you needed space and time to heal from the ‘fever’ you told them about. 

Yet when your heavy feet delivered you to the door, you couldn’t say you were surprised by who was behind them. Greeted by the sight of damp purple hair and coral eyes, heavy with intent to get dry, you could only clear your throat before Veritas spoke up for you.

“I got your messages this morning. Quite late to send such notices for work, wouldn’t you say?”

“..What?” you blinked owlishly at him, completely lost for words. 

“Hm, what? You sent me messages you were feeling unwell, multiple of the same as well.. I thought it would do us both well to check in on you” Veritas stood looking down at you, letting all the cool air in as you remained glued to the door like a statue, heavy lidded eyes and ears struggling to process what he had said. You were sending the messages to your boss - but in your anguished stupor you have sent them all to him instead. The malicious feeling came back underneath your ribs and stabbed right up, and you could see Veritas’ eyes widen upon seeing your face morph into a frown-pout. 

“Here, let me in, will you? You don’t want to get even more sick, or get me sick as well?” he tried to urge as gently as he could, walking in when you stepped aside and putting down a grocery bag for just enough that it took him to take off his shoes. His umbrella was put in the corner, sopping wet and letting you know it was still raining. You stood stiff in the hall, shoulders wanting to push up to your cheeks while your hands crossed at the wrists down in front of you. You sighed quietly, watching him as he straightened up, looking over at you.

With a step he closed the distance between you, his hand reaching up already as he said “Come here..” and his palm pushed gently against your forehead. His touch was warm, and from how close he stood you could smell the damp smell of rain and autumn leaves. It was refreshing.

It was a quiet moment as he assessed you in the entry hallway. “Doesn’t appear you have a heightened temperature at all, but we’ll confirm that in a bit with a thermometer, just to be sure. Hmm.. you do look pale though. Have you had breakfast yet?”

“Not yet, I was just about to make something” You smoothly lied, not wishing to bring more shame by allowing him to look sad or worried or angry at you if you told the truth.

“Good. I’ll make you something. Now, don’t just stand in the hallway, come inside. You act more of a guest in your home than I do..” he motioned with his hand while taking a step to the side to let you through, urging you to come by, and when you did his hand found its spot at your lower back as if to guide you in. He hummed something softly in his throat, no certain melody but it was a small sign of his focus, and perhaps the liberty he found in your home. “Would you like to sit down here, or be with me in the kitchen?” he asked and you can’t help but gawk a little with the way he addressed you so gently, warmly, all while you felt slimy and ready to crawl out of your skin.

“With you, I’d like to be with you in the kitchen”

He nodded, his eyes mellowing further as he motioned for you to come with him, his grocery bag rustling as he lifted it up to set it on the counter. You slipped into a high chair at the kitchen island, watching as he pulled out a whole chicken, celery, onions and carrots. In his orderly fashion he sorted them out in a line before him, and by now he was quite familiar with the placements of things within your home and had no trouble finding the plates, the cutting boards and the rest of the ingredients. He washed his hands before handling the ingredients directly. 

“Can I do something to help?” you muttered after the lump in your throat felt so huge, nearly about to pop out of your mouth. Sitting idle did more harm than good, it showed in your shoulders and eyes. Veritas looked your way and shook his head, coming a bit closer until he could lean down and plant his lips to your forehead warmly, letting his lips linger a moment longer. 

“You can sit there and relax, I got this” he told you in a softened tone, going back to his cutting board. 

Veritas was no fool, he never  was, and especially not with you. He knew this was no fever, even if he did end up making you stay still as he handed you the thermometer to check again after he let the chicken cook in a pot along with the vegetables and herbs, standing next to you until that fateful beep sounded over the simmering and bubbling water.  No fever.

While the chicken was cooking, making the smell waft in the air in delicious waves, Veritas opened you up to conservation, small talk mostly until you relaxed further, distracted by the endless flow of words. He told you about what happened in the time of your absence, and what he has been up to with the Guild and what shenanigans his student did too. The last topic got a giggle out of you, and Veritas seemed to glow at the sound. He smiled too, along with you.

Hunger seemed more natural and welcome now as a bit more life returned to your joints and you rose from your seat to pace around the kitchen, still tired but more.. alive, just that - alive. Alive and comfortable. You would occasionally glance into the pot, narrowly missing the gust of steam that jumped up from the pot. 

“Should be done about now.. let me see... hmm” Veritas nudged against you over the stove, wearing kitchen mittens and removing the pot off the heat, and you promptly turned it off  and watched what he did. 

Veritas had made this recipe once before, when you really did have a fever. ‘Healing chicken vegetable soup’ - he said it was called, a recipe he seemed to recall from younger years of his childhood. You wanted to learn to make it and try to make it, but it would seem he never got sick or that he let you do it. This dish was his in truth. 

What came of his meticulous work was a delicious plate of soup with cut chicken meat, not a bone in sight. It was soft on the throat, although you ended up adding a bit more seasoning for your own tongue while Veritas dined on the soup as it was. He was slow with it, bent on observing you eat. 

“I assume that it is to your liking?”

You nodded, mouth full to respond. 

“Good. I am glad of it. Sometimes you have to take the back seat to get the joy of life, no matter how long you remain in that station it will be well worth it once you get back into the driver’s seat” He told you, hoping to get to you without addressing the matter directly, knowing it may result in more harm than good and your mood was just beginning to look up.

“Yeah… I know, Veritas. Yet having spent so much time at the head of it all, taking the back seat feels like a punishment” you managed to say after nearly scalding your throat with how eagerly you swallowed your bite, wanting to converse with him.  

“It is not a punishment, especially not when you know you need such a change in perspective. You’re doing yourself a misdeed by rooting yourself to the place that drained you in the first place” 

“Speaking from experience?”

“Pft- now, don’t be so brazen with me after letting me see you so wilted” he bit back quickly, but he held no actual malice, only wasn’t prepared for your rebuttal. He cleared his throat and took a sip of the tea he prepared for you both. Veritas was human too, and you knew of his own trials and errors more than anyone else - of course he felt the same, but you didn’t need to force him to admit it.

You smiled at his jab, scooping up more soup. 

“Wilted? I have to thank you for the nourishment then, I am already feeling more.. revitalized” you told him and your look softened his own when you looked up at him. Color seeps back into your cheeks, and you don't wobble in your step or stumble. Your bones felt like bones again, not air. 

“I will take your thanks properly once you really feel better.. until then, I’d prefer if you ate well and actually took some of the advice I gave you.. I may have not said it but your message did worry me greatly..”

The words made you slow down in your motions and you looked at him in silent apology now, but he once again beat you to speaking. “Imagine - I had to cancel my classes. What will my students think now?”

“They must be thinking it’s the end of the world”

“Hah” His pearly whites show as he grins at your words and you nearly imitate him, but you smile regardless with what energy you got back. He is leaning back in his seat, arms crossed in an almost boyishly fashion, relaxed. “Perhaps, but I can easily make up for a missed class. Let them think what they will.. May this even get their mind spinning a little bit more if my absence is so heatedly understood”. 

By the time you were done sharing jabs and words, you had eaten more than you expected. The warmth of the tea and soup brings sleep to pull at your eyelids, beckoning you to close them. Veritas noticed you nearly nodding off at the table and was quick enough to come up to your side, hand on the opposite shoulder from where he stood. 

“It is time you go get to bed”

Had you had any more strength, you would have said you needed to get to working on those papers, but the memory of the same was lost in the night before, and all you could think of how comfortable the pillow will be when your heads falls onto it, and how warm Veritas’ arms will be when he lays down next to you.

Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

A/n: the recipe is actually a greek recipe ehehhehee, I wanted a little easter egg