#straight up i met him for the first time in game and went
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jarofstyles · 16 hours ago
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I don’t know if you’d want to write this but I’ve been reading some stuff with primal play and I feel like you’d do a good job with it! Or something with that vibe. Anything with that, I’d love to see!
Omg I’d love to do that! I’ll try and do something with Wolfrry and that at some point as a whole one shot but I’ve whipped up an enemies/lovers little thing for you. Thank you for the suggestion!
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Warnings- primal play, cum play, edging, a bit of degrading, exhibitionism, Dom!Harry, finger sucking, daddy kink if you squint
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He had her where he had been waiting to get her. Pretty, perky, perfect Y/N knelt on the floor, the filthy bathroom floor of the club, looking like the slut she was- the girl he had been chasing for months now, being met with resistance, a cat and mouse game that made him want her even more.
Her hair was a mess from his fingers, her face flushed, and her lips swollen from kissing, the unusual unkempt appearance making his cock throb. It was obvious she had her hair done tonight, perfectly pin straight and pretty as it had flowed over her shoulder- now ruined from his hands. He took it as a stroke to the ego, making the only girl he ever knew to be so put together into a disheveled mess.
He’d gotten her where they both knew she wanted to be, holding one of his digits in her mouth, sucking gently as she gazed up at him with wide, adoring eyes, mouth hot and her tongue unbelievably soft as she ran it over the underside of the digit. Brushing over the ring at his knuckle even as she pulled back to the tip, he watched her clenched hands squeeze together as they rested on her thighs, waiting for her next command.
This sweet little thing sullying herself by sucking his finger like it was his cock, showing him exactly what he could expect, it only spurred him on. The impatience was starting to show by the minute, just letting her do this. Watching her get more and more desperate. Her tongue swirled around the digit, teasing the tip before taking it deeper, mimicking what he really needed around his dick. “D’you want something, baby?” He feigned innocence as his other hand palmed over his cock through his pants. “Hm?”
He chuckled darkly as she let out a hum. Still stubborn. Slowly, he withdrew his finger, letting it out with an obscene pop from between her swollen lips. Her eyes fluttered as she gazed up at him, a string of saliva connecting her lips to his fingertip that he promptly wiped over her perfectly made up cheek. "Tell me what you want, angel. Use your words. Thought you were running your mouth tonight about how you can’t stand me, and now y’can’t even pull your mouth off my fingers t’tell me what you want?" His voice low and teasing. The hand palming his cock squeezed gently as he waited for her request, knowing damn well what she craved.
“I..” She didn’t want to admit it. Harry won this game most of the time, but he had her in the sweet spot. Incredibly horny and desperate for approval. This was always the hardest part of it. Getting past her pride. Somehow, she always gave in. “I want to suck you off. Please.”
A wicked grin spread across his face at her words, his eyes glinting with satisfaction. It was one of his favorite parts, watching her unravel like she hadn’t been scoffing at him earlier. Like he didn’t know she’d end up on her knees saying ‘please, Daddy’ while begging for his cock. They both knew how this went. It was just a question as to who would break first every time they saw each other. How long it would take for him to catch her.
He unzipped his pants slowly, revealing his cock. Y/N hated how much she loved it, how thick it was, how obvious it was that their back and forth and the thrill of the chase had the tip ruddy and wet. He was leaking and she had been the one to do it. There wasn’t an ounce of embarrassment on his face as he took it into his hand, stepping closer to her kneeling form. "Come here then. Show me how badly you want it." He gripped his cock, stroking it slowly as he watched her with a hungry gaze. "Pout those pretty lips like you did before. I want t’see that again."
She did as he asked, letting her bottom lip poke out as she looked up at him in slight confusion- before he brought the tip over to her mouth. “Keep that pout.” He instructed when she went to open it, gripping her hair in his fingers as he dragged the tip over her bottom lip. Tracing over each one, he let out a soft hum as he painted her lips with his own arousal, watching his precum slick over her lower lip. Repeating the process again, he watched her lips glisten in the shitty light of the stall. Somehow, he hadn’t seen anything better in his life- Her pouted lips, glossy with the evidence of how much she worked him up.
“There we go. Made me so hard, looking the way you do. Y’look so pretty on your knees for me, but I think you needed that touch up.” Rubbing the top back and forth over the seam of her lips, he let out a groan as she pursed them. “Think you like it too. Filthy little thing. Pretending y’havent been gagging for it.. Runnin’ from me like we both don’t know you’re gonna get caught and you’re gonna get on your knees or bend over f’me after you talk all that shit to your friends about what an asshole I am… Leading me to places you shouldn’t be just to get a taste.”
She clenched her thighs together unconsciously, trying to ignore the throbbing ache between them- the one he always put there. When he finally pulled away, she couldn't help but lick her lips, tasting the trace him. Her eyes lulled as the salty-sweet flavor hit her tongue, and a soft, involuntary moan escaped her. Her gaze darted up to meet his, embarrassment and arousal warring in her expression- smugness on his own.
She hated how much she loved it.
“Yeah, I know.” He cooed. “Y’love to taste me. Daddy’s good little whore.” Her expression turned to confusion as he slipped himself back in his trousers, zipping them back up. She was ready and on the floor, hands on her knees- and he was putting it away?
Harry caught the look, a patronizing smile on his face as he reached down to cup her chin. “What? Did you think you could run ‘round, acting like a brat this whole time n’I was just going to give you what you want?” Clicking his tongue, he shook his head. Giving her chin a squeeze he motioned for her to get back up on her shaky feet.
“Not getting an inch of my cock in here. You’re goin’ to go back out there with all your little friends, act like you weren’t jus’ on your knees on this filthy bathroom floor for me.. Complain about me watching you like it doesn’t make that cunt soak whatever panties you’ve got on. S’alright, baby. I know the drill.” Squeezing her cheeks, he watched her face morph into irritation despite his grip. Just how he wanted her. “All you’re getting is the taste of me on that smart mouth. When you’re done, meet me in the hallway. If I get a lick of attitude from you, you aren’t getting anything else.”
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sloaneispunk · 2 days ago
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“flowers in your hair”
frontman!in-ho x you (season one)
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when the cheeky, happy-go-lucky girl in-ho had met in the games, takes every opportunity to get close to him, he can’t resist her charm.
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in-ho slipped out from his bunk, silently observing as all the other players stood around in confusion. he turned around and looked up, looking straight into the camera above him.
“hey, what are you staring at, old man?”
he whipped his head around, eyes landing on you. there you were, a young girl, head resting on your palms as you looked down at him with doe eyes, a big grin on your face. who were you?
“i’m sorry, who are you?” he questioned, making you climb down the top bunk, stopping right in front of in-ho.
“i’m y/n.” you said cheerfully, extending your hand.
in-ho gave you a skeptical look before he took your hand. “i’m young-il.”
“nice to meet you!”
and just like that you were gone, striding to join the others, leaving him baffled and stunned. he stared as you grew further and further away from him, he was mesmerised. never in his years of being frontman had he met someone like you. so cheerful, so mischievous yet so enthralling.
as the announcements were made, in-ho grew bored. his eyes wandered around the room, eyes roaming around the different variations of players. then, he spotted you again. as if on cue, you turned around, giving him a small wave before turning your attention back to the guards who were speaking. in-ho didn’t have the chance to regain his composure before you looked away, he was stunned.
when the first game started, ‘red light, green light’, he was calm. when the first shot rang and a player dropped dead, he stayed in place, watching from his peripheral vision as chaos insued. however, he noticed a still player not too far from where he was at. it was you. somehow you had gotten the gist of the game faster than anyone else in the room. by now, he would’ve expected such a free spirited girl like you to have been eliminated, but you were doing wuite the opposite.
as the game continue, he continued to make him way slowly but surely to the finish line. it was around a minute left on the clock when panic started to set in. he was a few feet away from the finish line. was he really going to fail at his own game?
then, as he got closer and when the doll had turned, he felt a hand grab the collar of his jacket, pulling him right into the finish line before he could bother moving.
“that was close.” he heard a familiar voice say. that’s when he realized, it was you who saved him. “you okay?” you asked looking at him with worried eyes.
“i-i’m okay.” he replied, catching his breath as the timer went down to zero and the remaining players were eliminated.
walking back to the gameroom, in-ho felt a presence trailing behind him. just as he was about to give the person a piece of his mind, he came face to face with you once more. almost immediately, he calmed down, fists unclenching and jaw unlocking.
“i didn’t get to thank you for earlier.” he said, making you catch up to him.
“it was my pleasure, couldn’t let someone like you get shot down like the rest.”
what did that mean? were you flirting with him?
during mealtime, he sat with you, approaching you without question. “why are you so bubbly? this place is depressing.” he asked, watching you enjoy your food.
“what’s not to love? everything here’s better than the shit hole outside.” you shrugged.
in-ho could feel his heart ache as he thought of how your life was like outside the games. something in him thought that you’d at least be better off somewhere with him where you could be like this all the time.
“i like your hair.” he complimented, taking you by surprise as your hand flew to your hair, touching the little flowers you had carefully put in.
“thank you! although, i didn’t take you for the compliment type.” you joked, making him smile. “and he smiles too?!”
in-ho chuckled, you were really something else.
that night when it was time to rest, he watched you from his bottom bunk. you slept so peacefully, he swore he could even see a subtle smile on your face as you turned subconsciously to face. he found himself feeling warm inside when he caught even a glimpse of you. you brought so much joy and bliss to him in a god forsaken place like this.
the next day, he awoke to the sound of classical music blasting through the speakers. but to his surprise, you were already up, putting your hair into a braid, carefully putting the flowers back in your hair. ‘unbelievable’ he thought to himself.
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“what do you think the next game will be?” you asked as the both of you hobbled down the stairs to the next venue.
“i don’t know, y/n… but i’m sure you’ll be fine.”
you gave him a smile, nodding.
when you entered the room, you were met with four different shapes. square, circle, star and umbrella.
“how strange.” you mumbled under your breath, only loud enough for in-ho who stood beside you to hear. “which one should we go with?”
in-ho gulped. he knew that he should choose circle, and leave you to be doomed by your fate, but he couldn’t.
“i think i’ll go with umbrella.”
“no.”
you gave him a strange look. “what?”
“come with me, y/n.” he simply said, taking your hand and leading you to the circle. you followed wordlessly, liking how much he cared about you even thought you’ve only met a day ago.
when everyone had picked a shape, the game was announced.
‘dalgona’
“how’d you know to pick circle? it seems like the easiest.” you asked, gazing up at the older man as he only smiled.
“lucky guess.”
as the game began, you and in-ho sat quietly in a far corner of the room, both concentrating on carving the shape out. you had your tongue poked out in focus, eyes squinted and eyebrows frowned, making in-ho choke up a laugh.
“what? are you laughing at me?”
“no. just saw something.” he tried to cover it up.
“whatever, young-il. i’m done so have fun with your dalgona.”
in-ho looked up, seeing you hold out a perfect circle.
“that was fast.” he commented, going back to his dalgona. “why don’t you head out first? i’ll join you as soon as i’m done.”
“and leave you alone? yeah, not a chance.”
his heart fluttered in his chest. he tried his best to suppress his blush by looking down but as he looked at you, sitting with your back against the wall, quietly observing his actions, he blushed harder.
a while later, he was finally done. both of you headed to the exit while the others were struggling to finish the game.
“look at that guy, he’s licking it.” you said, face scrunched up in disgust as you pointed to a man, player 456, who was bent over, licking the dalgona rapidly.
“thanks to me, we don’t have to do that.” he joked, making you smack his arm.
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the next day, it was ‘tug of war’. in-ho took notice as you sat in front of him, how silent you became. the enthusiastic, charming aura that floated all around you had vanished.
he had asked you many times if you were okay but the only response you gave him was a nod. not a smile, not a snarky remark. it made him worry.
when it was your teams turn, you stood silently in the corner of the elevator, playing with your fingers. only in-ho noticed how much your hands were shaking, how your breath hitched with even the slightest crank of the elevator. there wasn’f much to be said, he could only take your hand in his, placing a gentle kiss on it, reassuring you.
the team carried out the strategy that sang-woo had came up with-hold out for the first few seconds. when the opposing team had lost their momentum, that’s when you would strike.
luckily for in-ho you were positioned not too far from him. close enough for him to still be able to lay his eyes on you.
when the game started, things got serious quickly. eveyone used every ounce of strength they had. but the plan had faltered and you were losing.
“on my count release!” sang-woo shouted, causing an uproar of discontent from everyone. but what choice did you have. and so you did. the team stumbled forward, half of you hanging off the ledge as you watched the opposing team fall back onto their asses, losing their grip completely.
then, you pulled hard. catching them off guard, slowly but surely dragging them closer and closer towards the edge as one by one, they all fell. soon, the rope was cut off, leaving everyone laying flat on the ledge, lost for words.
when you were headed back towards the main room, you felt an arm snake around your waist, it was in-ho.
“you did so well, y/n.” he said, hoping to get that same cheeky smile from you again, but it never came.
when you failed to reply, he halted, holding you back as the rest of the team went ahead.
“talk to me.” in-ho said in a gentle, almost loving voice. he hands found their way to your face, cupping it gently, trying to give you some sense of comfort.
“i-i’m scared, young-il. i d-don’t want to play anymore.” you admitted, tears springing to your eyes as you spoke.
“oh, sweet girl, don’t cry.” he shushed, pulling you into his arms, kissing your forehead.
“i c-can’t be happy anymore, i-i need to get out of this place, young-il. i don’t w-want to die.” you cried muffled by his jacket.
“i know…let it out, i’m here, baby.” he comforted, stroking your hair.
in-ho hated it. he hated how this place had broke you. stripping away his sun and joy of this place, all he wanted at that moment was for him to be able to hear your laughter again.
then, as if on impulse, he pulled away, bending down slightly to meet your lips. it was soft, gentle, almost innocent. he kissed your lips with so much passion and affection. there was no need for any words, everything he needed to say melted right into the kiss.
when he pulled away, he could hear a small giggle. he opened his eyes to be met with the most beautiful sight he swore he had ever seen. your eyes half teary, hair messy and lips swollen from his kiss.
“thank you.” you said softly, looking up at him.
“anytime, y/n.”
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astrocassette · 1 year ago
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oop! gotta be careful with that chiton, boss!
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depresseddepot · 2 months ago
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SO THERE'S THIS GREY WARDEN NAMED ALISTAIR...........
#he's growing on me in such a bizarre wat#*way#he gave me frat boy energy at first so i wasn't interested but after the big fight he sort of turned into a wet sad dog#and THAT i like lmao#also the way morrigan is constantly belittling him is so funny to me#but the part that Got Me was when morrigan was like ''arent YOU the senior grey warden? why are we following someone new''#and he was like ''what do you want me to say? that i prefer to follow? because i do.''#that paired with the bow paired with the templar manners paired with the changed by grief motif was an arrow straight thru me#i still prefer cullen. cullen was whipped in ways alistair is not (at least not yet)#and i also havent met zevran yet and i anticipate i will like him (his type of character can be a toss up tho)#but i can't romance cullen in this game so i will settle for alistair! i hope he gets even more desperate :)#kicking my feet cheerfully i love a man that is so in love he makes a fool of himself#im also AT WORK. AND UNABLE TO KEEP PLAYINH#but the good news is i have 6 (SIX) DAYS OFF SOON IN A ROWWWWWW and thats NOT including the holidays#IM SO EXCITEDDDD i havent had that many days off in a row literally 3 years#im thinking about doing something Different. like last time i had 4 days off in a row i went to the movies by myself#(scary at first but i LOVE it now)#so now i might go to a museum alone? maybe? if i can find a cool one that isnt stupidly far away#and maybe......maybe i might try eating alone at a restaurant#that makes me want to kms though so maybe im not ready for that LMFAO#anyway. i cant believe i didnt play dragon age until just now i am so obssessed#EDIT: I MIGHT BE ABLE TO STOMACH GETTING SUSHI BY MYSELF?? OMG#PLANS MADE.#i want to learn how to eat alone at places people typically go with groups soooo badly#because i dont have a group!! i have friends i could ask but theyre usually busy#and as much as i love them i am still Performing around them and thats not what i want#i want to try new things withiut having to perform in public#and maybe if i learn how to do THAT i can learn how to relax when i AM with other people#plans made. omg
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thecoochiefairy · 20 days ago
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nola. onyankopon.
𑄽𑄺 warnings 𑄽𑄺 18.0K word count. blackfem!character, college football coded! onyankopon, grumpy! onyankopon, sweet!onyankopon, third person omniscient, dominant!onyankopon, friends to lovers trope, sandbox love, black woman, vaginal penetration, lil bit of sweet talkin’, hair pulling, creaming, oral [f] [m], choking, praising, LOTS of dirty talk, squirting, riding, backshots, condomless sex, kissing, spanking, minors aren’t welcome!
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━━ 𝒄𝙤𝒐𝙘𝒉𝙞𝒆𝙛𝒂𝙞𝒓𝙮 𝙩𝒉𝙤𝒖𝙜𝒉𝙩𝒔 .ᐟ so, i know i was been supposed to give y’all an official onyankopon fic. i’m sorry it took so long. i changed the entire idea i had, and honestly? i enjoyed writing this one so much better. haven’t been able to dip my toe into strictly black characters since my actual book new salem, and i missed pure nigga-try! also, thank y’all for 3K followers. i love every single one of you. enjoy! 🫶🏽
visual. visual. visual.
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BENEATH THE LIGHTS WAS WHERE SHE BELONGED. The squeaking of her feet scuffled along the shined mahogany wood as she tuned out the many voices—from cheering, to the coach calling out plays, or pure enjoyment from the game. This was her element. 
Scrimmages were just as important to her, the bleachers filling with college students as if it were a regular game. Eyes watched the most valuable player move across the court with a choreography more beautiful than a dancer—their point guard.
The ball was like metal—a magnet in her fingers as she passed it to the next player, awaiting for it to somehow appear back in her palms. But she couldn’t stop her eyes from traveling up to the bleachers. She always searched for his figure to be seated in between his friend group, watching her just as much as she waited for him. 
Black leather varsity jacket with yellow embroidery, his name and number on the back like a symbol—‘ONYANKOPON.’ 
Golden grills shone beneath the light of his full goatee and dark pink lips, bone straight smile more flattering than the devils. His durag tied into a knot along the back of his head, his outfit more relaxed as he’d just come from practice—He’d never miss her games. 
He sat there amongst the many of his own teammates. His gaze was focused on her, following her movements as they were almost seductive. 
It never failed that she’d eventually look in his direction. It was always a battle between who would look away first—This time, it was her. Her eyes glanced over him every so often, her heart racing whenever their gazes met. But the game was as vital as the air that filled her nostrils, and no amount of admiring him could pull her from it.
Her fingers grip the basketball that’s thrown back into her palms, having to quickly regain control before it went straight into the opposing team’s hands. She was like the cherry on top, gliding through bodies along the court as she made her way closer to the edge, her low height more  powerful than the taller women as she tossed the ball towards the hoop.
The crowd was watching poetry in the making, the way her legs pushed against the floor and the ball leaving her fingers in an effortless arc that sailed through the basket. Flawless. 
The suppression of her smile finally shined through her bratz shaped lips, listening to the crowd cheer as her team had won the scrimmage. Her eyes move over as she watches that varsity jacket beginning to stand from the bleachers, following behind his group of friends as they begin exiting the building. Something in her feels dejected.
But as the swarm of her other teammates come crowding her in an excited hug, she’s pulled back into the reality of her win—she could deal with that later.
She stands in the locker room as she’d just gotten out of the shower, kneeling her body against the bench as she searches her pale pink NIKE bag for her sweatshirt. She can feel a presence appear next to her, eyes turning up to her teammate—who was also her cousin and roommate—Peanut, smirking down at her.
“If you’ coming over here to talk shit, please find somebody else to play with.”
“I didn’t even say anything,” Peanut hides her smirk, “What? You’ all mad that your man didn’t stay until the end of the game?”
“You know that’s not my man,” she mutters, “I’m good. Why you’ in my business right now?”
“I’m in your business ‘cause I know you,” Peanut rolled her eyes, chocolate brown skin shining under the lights as she crossed her arms, “You wanna say that’s not your nigga while you’re over here moping cause he didn’t stay behind. Please.”
She begins pulling the black sweatshirt over her head, XAVIER UNIVERSITY OF LOUISIANA labeled in bold yellow beneath the material. Her curls are drenched from the shower, eyes tired as she looks to her cousin, “Are you done? Don’t you have somewhere else to be other than in my ass?”
“Not my fault you’re always so interesting,” Peanut teased, her body leaning against the locker next to her, “You’ve been playing basketball all day and still have the energy to be mean?”
“You’ right, I should be tired from carrying your plays. That’s why you have so much energy to come talk hot shit, none of that was focused on the court,” she zips up her bag, throwing it along her shoulder as she slips on her soft pink New Balances 9060 sneakers.
“I’d say that’s a little disrespectful,” Peanut grins, crossing her arms across her chest, “You only have the energy to play so well ‘cause I let you. Coach was paying attention to you, though. Did you see?”
She sighs, “I want her to pay enough attention that she has a scout come watch our games, Peanut. This shit is starting to feel like high school.”
Peanut scoffed, “I heard you got offers from LSU, Bama, and Howard, yet you chose to stay in New Orleans,” she said, “This? Ain’t high school.”
“I just wanted to be close to my mom,” she reminds her, “You know that.” 
“Or did you wanna be close to that childhood crush of yours?”
Her eyes narrow into a glare, closing her locker as she warns, “Don’t start again, Peanut.”
Yet, it was true. Her and Onyankopon had grown up together due to their families both being from 9th Ward. It was to her dismay that she was in love with him. 
Peanut put her hands up in surrender, “Chill. Chill,” she warns, “I’m just saying. Why’d he leave anyways? Doesn't he stay after?”
She could admit to herself that she wanted to hear how she looked on the court. Maybe she just wanted to hear it from someone’s opinion she always trusted—his.
She sighs, running her fingers through her hair as she replies, “I don’t know. Prolly’ still fuckin’ that big booty bitch on the Majorette team.”
“Oh girl, Ashleigh? Yeah—nah.” 
She raised an eyebrow, “You’ got tea?”
This childhood crush of hers was stereotypically wandering with his eyes, able to accept the advances of any woman that came his way. His current flavor of the month was a brown skinned, extremely curvaceous girl on the college's Majorette team, swinging her hips at all of his games. 
Peanut smirked, grabbing her own bag and began walking out of the locker room with her. A group of other girls on the team passed, waving goodbye to the two cousins. 
“Tea?” She echoed, “I got a whole story on that nigga. Apparently him and Ashleigh off again—he pissed her off, so she threatened to fuck one of his friends.”
That caused her to softly laugh, following beside Peanut as they began walking towards the dorms, “Whatever he did, he probably deserved to be threatened.”
“I love when I get you to actually laugh. You’re too serious these days.” 
They walked past the main library of the school which was always packed with students, the yellow and white building gleaming in the night. Their dorm was just past it. 
“Why don’t you wanna fuck him again? The boy is 90s fine.” 
“Cause I’m not big booty Ashleigh,” she retorts, “To deal with him and his flock of hoes? I’d kill that nigga before he ever played with me.”
“I’d kill him too, I ain’t judging,” Peanut said, “But I’ll tell you what, you’re not big booty Ashleigh—you’re just a big booty, and that’s why he actually looks at you. You know those flocks of hoes are just a front, right? Those girls don’t mean anything to him,”  She looked over at her again, “You do.”
“Here you go—talking again,” she mutters, “You’ watch too many of them’ K-Dramas.”
“This ain’t no K-Drama—it’s real life!” Peanut protested, her hand waving in the air, “You’re the only one he doesn’t treat like a passing phase. He’s been ‘round you for what? Fifteen years?”
“Because he knows our family, Peanut. My uncle—your father—would shoot his ass on sight if he played with me the way he plays with girls on campus. I’m good on that. I got WNBA to get into,” she shrugs, circling her body around, childishly throwing an air ball into the sky.
“Yeah, Yeah—All that is cool. Is that what’s holding you back from liking a nigga?”
“I’d fuck a ball before I fucked him,” she finalizes, “I wanna go ice my ankle. You’ cooking tonight?”
“Sorry, cousin. I’m actually going over to my niggas house,” she playfully mocks the air ball she threw, beginning to back her way towards the other dorms, “Gon’ head and order something for me, though!”
She frowns, a bit bummed since this was her cousin's third night being out of their dorm, leaving her to either study, or watch K-Dramas by herself. She could admit that she was a bit lonely. 
“You ain’t getting shit!” She called back, “Have your nigga feed you!”
“You have a nigga feed you, lonely ass!” She yelled back, causing a few students to glance towards them, “Don’t be mad ‘cause you don’t know what a relationship feels like!” 
Peanut continued to walk away, tossing a hand over her shoulder to wave, “Love you, Sweetpea!”
She’s suffocated by that nickname, following her from elementary school to college. This was her senior year, and she still couldn’t get away from it. Her shoulders fall a bit as she waves back to her, acrylic nails glittering under the streetlights hovered over the dorms, her tattooed fingers and emerald golden ring glinting with it.
 Her eyes turn as she sees a familiar figure walking towards the dorms with his friends—he was finer up close. The yellow embroidery on his varsity jacket went well with his brown skin, facial hair, grills partnering with his sharp jawline. The tattoos along his face should’ve been intimidating, but made him scarily more attractive. He was tall, always slouching to make her more comfortable. She tries to turn as if she didn’t see him, beginning to make her way towards the stairs of the dorm. 
“For real? You’ finna’ ignore a nigga?”
She tongues the inside of her cheek, turning back as she eyes him up and down. She then says, “Just tryna’ get inside and start on this homework.”
His eyes followed every movement of hers, the way the dim light of the evening casted a hazy hue across her caramel skin, her onyx hair swaying along her body as she turned towards him.
“Homework, huh?” He echoed, walking up the last of the stairs to meet her at the top, “I been waiting to see you all day, you ain’t even gon’ say wassup?” 
“Wrong,” she corrects, “If you wanted to see me, you would’ve waited until the game was over, Onyankopon.”
“My lil’ grumpy ass Sweetpea…” He chided, a smirk playing on his full lips as he stepped in front of her, “Don’t act like I wasn’t in the bleachers for the whole game. Coach called for a meeting.”
She narrows her eyes, “Uh-huh. Why don’t you go back to your friends?”
“Ain’t never see you so eager to get rid of me,” He said through a deep chuckle, “You mad for real?” 
She doesn’t want to admit why she’s actually upset. But if she doesn’t, he’s gonna pry it out of her anyways. Her voice is still rough around the edges as she states, “You didn’t tell me how I played today. That’s why I wanted you there after.”
“You played good as fuck like you always do,” He began, taking another step into her personal space, “Them’ other girls ain’t shit. You ain’t need me to tell you that, though.”
She tightens her fingers around her duffle as she releases a breath, “You mean that? Good enough for a scout?”
“Girl, ain’t no question about that,” He smacks his lips, “You’ so good they’d be stupid not to sign you. Them’ bitches were tryna’ play catch-up the whole time. WNBA can’t wait for your ass to drop.”
“Ony,” she warns his language as he refers to the other girls. She takes his words to heart as she always did—he was the one person that she valued in their opinion. 
“My fault. But you know I’d never bullshit you,” he murmured, his other hand coming forward to grab the nape of her neck, “You finna’ go far.”
A pressure in her chest appears at his large palm against her neck—it feels warm. Good. 
Sweetpea smacks her lips as she pulls his arm down, “Where yo’ lil’ girlfriend at, Onyankopon?”
He raises an eyebrow, “You keepin’ tabs on me now?” He questioned, a smirk forming, “Thought you were just focused on the court and your homework. Why you worried about who I got?”
“You’ think I’m worried about a hoe ass nigga? ‘Forget I asked,” she scrunches her nose, returning to making her way fully up the steps.
“Nah nah, you brought it up,” He followed a step behind her, “Why’ you even wanna know ‘bout me and whoever I’m talkin to?”
She pushes the entrance to her dorm, looking back to his group of friends that begin walking away as she changes the subject, “Your friends are leaving, Onyankopon. Can I go inside?”
“You got questions about me and other girls—now you tryna’ run inside,” He pointed out, “Can’t you just say that you missed me?”
“Girls?” She repeats, “Huh. I don’t need my question answered then.” 
The minute she passes by a couple of people with a polite wave, she’s unable to escape the large arm that traps her along the wall just before she can make it to her room door. He places it against the wall, stopping her from walking which makes her back press against it. His cologne hovers over her body as he leans down towards her, making Sweetpea somehow back herself into the wall she was already against.
“Why you always runnin’ away?” He asked, his voice deep, “You think you got a nigga all figured out?” 
He chuckled, the low noise filling her ears. He moved forward, the heat of his body close enough for her to feel it against his own, “Or you don’t like bein’ reminded that you care what I do?”
She can’t admit to him that she’s…the least bit curious for her own entertainment. It wasn’t because of anything else. 
….It wasn’t.
She blinks, “I actually don’t care. Peanut told me your lil’ big booty girl threatened to fuck one of your friends. What’d you do to piss her off?” She raises an eyebrow.
“Damn Peanut,” He muttered,, “I knew I shouldn’t’ve let her know I hooked up with Ashleigh.” 
He rolled his tongue out his mouth,“You wanna know why she was mad at me?”
“Answer the question or I go inside. I’m getting impatient,” she reminds, placing her weight along her feet as she prepares to move his arm, watching as he places his palm right beside her head now. She lets out a heavy sigh.
“She’ mad I’m not acting like her nigga,” He smirked at the way her face scrunched up slightly in frustration, “She’s too obsessed with me.”
“Oh? The world is still Onyankopon Land in that head of yours?” She raises an eyebrow, sarcastically smiling at him.
He looked down with a smile, finding her scowl endearing somehow. 
“I get it now. I know you don’t like me havin’ girlfriends'. My bad, Mama.”
That nickname. And that sentence. It makes a chill rush down her spine. But instead, she pushes out a laugh with her eyebrows raised, pushing past his arm as she begins unlocking her door, “Boy, go home. You’re playing bad as fuck right now.”
His eyes move as she opens her door and steps in, preparing to close it as he then places a sneaker in between the opening before suddenly asking, “Your’ ankle hurt?”
She doesn’t expect the question as she frowns, “Is that your way of asking to come inside? I’m good,” she attempts to close the door.
“It’s a way of sayin’ a nigga worried ‘bout you,” he frowned back, “You can’t blame me after I saw you limp on that ankle during the game.”
She flutters her lashes up, searching around his face as she reads the more serious tone of his expression. Her ankle had been a little weak with all the practices and games, but it was nothing she worried too much about. 
She slides her fingers against the door as she repeats more softly, “I’m fine, Ony. For real.”
“Lemme look at it,” He said, “I can see how swollen it’s gettin’.”
The tone of his voice was soft, but there was also a sternness to it. This nigga was worried about her ankle, forreal.
She glances around her empty apartment before she exhales, opening the door wider to let him in. She places her bag against the kitchen island as she grabs her Hello Kitty ice packet, making her way towards the sofa to sit.
He follows her inside, hands stuffed into the pockets of his varsity jacket. He sits down on the sofa beside her, the soft cushion dipping under his large frame as he eyes her ankle.
“C’mon,” he gruffs, motioning for her to place her leg on his lap.
She places her leg against his lap, beginning to feel the curls of her hair drying up, blowing a tendril out of her face as she fully plopped down next to him. She says, “I think I was just moving too fast.”
He gently holds onto her ankle as she rests it across his lap, his large palm wrapping completely around it. His dark lashes lowered over his eyes as he examined the ankle, his expression neutral. 
“You been doin’ a lot lately,” he lightly touched certain areas on her foot, “The coach got you runnin’ too many drills or somethin’?”
“I just wanna be ready for the game coming up. Coach might bring scouts, you know?” She brings her eyes up to him, “I can take a lil’ pain in that case.”
“And if that pain turns into a damn injury ‘cause your dumbass wanna push too hard,” He challenged, “Then what?”
She gives him a deadpan look, “Now you sound like Peanut.” 
When he twists the ankle around, something in her body alarms itself in a sharp pain, which makes her inhale a breath, attempting to jerk her leg back from him as she piercingly inhales. 
“Nah, don’t do that,” he said with a grunt, his thumb and index finger feeling around for the source of her wince, “What’d ‘you just feel?”
“You’re making it hurt,” pushing his hand away, she tried to stop herself from panicking at the small pain.
He ignored her hand as he continued to hold her ankle, looking up at her face with a serious tone, “Chill out. I need you to tell me exactly where the pain is. You can’t just be playin’ with your fuckin’ ankle.”
As much as he clowned around, she wasn’t the one to bite when he got serious. She points towards the back of her ankle as she softly replies, “Here.”
“You know you gotta ice that more,” he scolded, “Bein’ stubborn all the time ain’t gonna’ get you ‘round the court faster.“
“I know,” she nods, relaxing more as she allows him to lightly massage the area. Her toes nearly curled as it felt so good, she had to dig her fingers in her thigh a bit not to react. 
She tries to bring up the subject again, “You’ really like Ashleigh?”
His fingers paused as she asked the question, his honey eyes looking up at her. 
“You still worried ‘bout that?” He shook his head before he began massaging the area again, “She a lil’ too extra.”
“Maybe you should be nicer to her. That way she isn’t always screaming at you,” Sweetpea suggests, “You’ be having them girls losing their minds. I too would crash out on you.”
Despite what she might think of him, he could tell she was actually being serious. He was used to all the jokes, the sarcasm, and the usual smartass replies she always fired back with. 
He rolled his tongue along his lower lip again with a smirk, “You’d crash out over me, huh?”
“I’m serious, Ony.”
She ignores the way her face goes warm, “You’ve had your attention on her for more than a month now—which is longer than your attentiveness with any girl. So don’t mess that up by…being you.”
A low chuckle slips from his full lips, “You tellin’ me to stop bein’ too cool for my own good? Since when you’ start liking Ashleigh?” 
“I ain’t saying I like her—I’m just saying.”
He leans back a little more on the sofa, his hands pausing their working on her ankle. He raises an eyebrow at her, a smile on his face, “You worried about me, huh?”
“You say me playing around on the court won’t get me anywhere but an injury, I could say the same for you. Quit playing with that girl's heart if you don’t actually like her. Somebody’s gonna come along that you might actually like, and when they pull a you on you,  it’s gonna hurt.”
He kept his eyes on her ankle, silently nodding as she lectured him. This would be the one time he didn’t want to fire back with a smart remark as the seriousness in her voice made him feel a bit scolded. 
“You ever think you were made for some sorta advice hotline?” he finally mumbled, “You tryna’ be my life coach now?”
She rolled her eyes, giving a soft giggle as she replied, “Being a good person is free as fuck.”
He let out another low chuckle, his expression softening a bit at the sound of her laugh. 
“You ain’t wrong,” he says quietly, his large fingers continuing to massage her ankle, “But she knew I didn’t want nothin’ serious with her from the jump. Not my fault if she got it twisted somewhere in the process. She just started saying I was her nigga.”
“Well, did you make her feel like you were?” She raises an eyebrow, “Did you say no when she called you that?”
He shrugged his shoulders indifferently, a nonchalant look on his face, “I don’t take it seriously when a girl calls me they’ boyfriend. Probably be fuckin’ them too good.”
She tilts her head, “Boy, bye. You ain’t giving bitches that type of dick—And maybe you should clarify you’re not their boyfriend? Don’t leave the door revolving, otherwise it causes miscommunication.”
“Shiiidd, I be havin’ them like—Oooohshit, Daddy,” he mockingly moans, tickling her ankle which makes her giggle again. 
She shakes her head, “I didn’t need to know all that. But I meant what I said—if  you don’t want them seriously, tell them that, Ony. That’s all.”
“You done preachin’ to me now?”
“No, I’m not. Since you’ so worried about my health, have you been going to physical therapy Mr. I almost tore my ACL last year? Is it giving you any issues on the field?” 
“It happened more than a year and a half ago,” he glares, “Why you’ bringing that up?”
“Cause I know how much it scares you to be without football,” she points out, “And if you can admit to loving something, football is that.”
He didn’t respond for a moment, his dark eyes staring down at her ankle as he massaged it. He didn’t realize that she had known him that well. 
He finally sighs, “I go to my physical therapy. I’ve been taking rest days and shit. Happy?”
She could tell he wanted to leave it there. So, she does. When she nods her head, that cocky grin appears back on his face as he asks, “You’ coming to my game tomorrow?”
“I’d never miss it. You know that.”
“Damn right you ain’t,” he responded, the smirk remaining on his lips, “You’ betta’ be in the stands cheerin’ like hell for me.”
“Let’s not say all that,” she laughs, “But I’ll be there.” 
His smile widened at the sound of her laugh, his eyes staring at the expression on her face—how her nose would scrunch up a bit when she giggled.
“Damn right you will,” he repeated, suddenly lifting her leg up and placing it back onto his lap, “You can get some special VIP access to my locker room after. I’ll need you to give me some physical therapy.”
“Onyankopon. I will kill you.”
“You’ already got my heart, Mama. Last time I checked, I’m dead.” 
“Onyankopon?”
“Huh?” 
“Get out.”
                                            𝓐ᥫ᭡
THE EXCITEMENT OF THE NEXT DAY ROLLED INTO THE NIGHT. The sun was beginning to set, lighting a fire amongst the entire campus as it was their favorite time—the football game. Everyone was geared up in their school's attire, or spun the colors within their own style, prideful in representing their HBCU’s team. The bleachers were filled with bodies, a sense of young adult spirit filling the entire stadium. Scents of nachos, pizza and beignets filled Sweetpea’s nostrils, almost more distracting than the thrum in her chest from the band performing loudly, the majorette team equally matching with their performance.
The team all stood in the locker room, many of them pacing while the coach gave his final speech about how he expected them to play. A few guys huddled together in the far corner as they discussed and strategized their plays.
All, except one. 
Onyankopon sat on a wooden bench in the corner, his dark eyes staring down at the floor. While everyone else was still gearing up for the game, he was fully dressed in his jersey—his muscular silhouette visible underneath. He always needed this time to himself. To pray, to run the plays within his mind, to think.
The crowd cheered as the team began running out onto the field, Sweetpea standing as she cheered next to Peanut, clapping as cleats sunk into the synthetic grass. Her eyes went straight to the last player that entered, the crowd somehow becoming louder at the entrance of the quarterback. 
His blacked out protective gear made him look even bigger, shadows of his tattoos beneath the material of the long-sleeve he wore under his jersey, holding his helmet beneath the bright yellow gloves on his large palms. A chill ran over her body as his teammates hyped themselves up, his arm raising to flex the muscles within, tongue sticking out arrogantly to symbolize his power. She didn’t think he’d actually notice her in the crowd—but she was hard to miss. 
Her dark hair was sprawled around her face in soft waves, sheer yellow and black top clinging to her waist, showing the midriff of her belly piercing and stomach. Dark grey wash shorts that showed the harsh poke of her hips and ass that created a Coke bottle silhouette, thin silver heels strapped against her ankles. Her fox eyes were slender with fluffy lashes, brown freckles sprucing along her caramel face, lips outlined with brown liner. 
He rarely saw her out of her basketball attire, but when he did, he couldn’t stop looking. She gave him a sweet wave, unaware of how impure she truly looked.
He couldn’t help the smirk that pulled through his full lips, raising his arm to give her a wink before bringing his focus back to the coach, running a few extra laps to warm up. 
The XULA football team always played as if they were in  the NFL, Onyankopon leading them in ways no one else could. He ran across the field like nothing, a similarity between him and Sweetpea as they had control of the ball at a constant. Touchdown after touchdown, they were whooping the opposing team effortlessly.
Onyankopon ran down the field, achieving another touchdown before making his way over to the sideline, pulling off his helmet as he reached the water table. He grabbed a towel with one hand, dumping water over the other and running it through his tatted face as he looked up, scanning the crowd. 
His dark eyes immediately found hers again.
Her cousin was too wrapped up in the attention of her boyfriend to see how they stared at one another. Sweetpea had been around Onyankopon enough to allow her school girl crush to falter, but each time he gave her that look, it’s like all of her emotions appeared again.
 The minute she tried to give him another wave, she brought her hand down as she saw his attention on none other than Ashleigh, who was performing within her majorette team on the field. She swung her hips with the choreography, blowing him a kiss as she bent down with her baton. She was every man’s fantasy on campus—silky dark hair, dark grey eyes, chocolate brown skin, body perfect in her yellow one piece, sparkly black headband against her forehead as she danced.
Of course he would be looking at her. 
Ashleigh gave him an exaggerated wink as she twirled around the field. It seemed like she made it her priority to give him the most attention whenever she saw him. 
Onyankopon finally looked away and brought the towel to his face as a grin tugged at his lips again, his mind drifting. Typical.
“You’ good?” Peanut noticed her cousins’ face, slowing down on the attention of her nachos.
“Yeah, I’m good,” Sweetpea murmured, leaving her thoughts to herself, focusing back on the game itself. She was fine.
Their football team had successfully won in their home field, cheering wildly at their additional victory. With their win, they celebrated as they usually did—a party within a frat house off campus.
 It was closer to downtown New Orleans, only blocks away from Bourbon street. It was a city that never slept, a thrive somewhere other than New York could produce. Music blared throughout the mansion—songs like Back That Azz Up by Juvenile, to BOP by Big Boogie— bodies moved to the beat, talking and laughing amongst each other in a happy radiance.
Onyankopon was right in the middle of it all, his team crowded around as they celebrated with him, all the girls at the party practically glued to their hips, Ashleigh being attached to him.
Sweetpea entered the party, clasping the hand of her cousin when she immediately found the eyes of Onyankopon. He had one arm wrapped around the waist of Ashleigh—who was currently wearing his varsity jacket—her hand gently caressing his broad chest as she whispered in his ear. His other hand was around a beer, taking a long drink as his dark eyes scanned the crowd. She pressed her lips together, giving a weak smile as she waved again, before being pulled towards her own group of friends.
He caught sight of her, his eyes glued on her frame as she moved through the crowded mansion. It made him clutch his beer as her hips twisted with each movement, ass shaking beneath her shorts. 
“Onyankopon?” Ashleigh whined, pouting her big lips as they curved downwards.
“Huh?” 
“You want another beer?” she asks, pulling his mouth down to meet hers.
“Fasho,” he murmurs against her lips, “‘Preciate it, Love.” 
Ashleigh wrapped herself tighter against his side, looking up at him as she tried to grab his attention. She then stood up, giving him one more kiss as she was making her way towards the table of drinks, seeing as Sweetpea stood there, trying to mix vanilla Coke with Crown for a richer taste.
Sweetpea glances at the girl, seeing her wearing a short skirt and crop top, body perfectly snug in her outfit under the jacket. Her hair was in curls now, and she looked as pretty as she always did. Pretty enough to always have Onyankopon’s attention. 
Ashleigh wasn’t a mean girl—that’d be too typical. However, she was a girl that did…notice the relationship between this girl and her man. She just wanted to check Sweetpea’s temperature. 
“Hey, Sweetpea!”
She has to pull back the roll in her eyes, giving her a smile as she greets, “Wassup, Ashleigh?”
“Not much,” Ashleigh makes a point to run a hand over Onyankopon’s jacket, “Grabbing a beer for my man, just saw you and figured I’d say hey!” 
Sweetpea instantly notices the movement, clearing her throat as she exhales, “Y’all just got here?”
“Nope. Been here a good twenty minutes,” she responded, watching her closely as she continued to rub her hand against the material. 
“Onyankopon is still pretty fired up from the game,” she giggles, “He’s all high and mighty after a win, can’t keep his damn hands off me. But I’m sure you know that.”
Sweetpea gives a small laugh to kill the awkwardness she feels, bringing the drink to her lips in hopes that would help this conversation, “Yeah…he’s uh—something else.”
“But girl, let’s talk about you! I never saw you outside of that basketball jersey. You’re actually passing for a bad bitch tonight!”
She could feel the passive aggression in her tone. She didn’t have to question it. One thing about that nickname of hers, it definitely was a representation of how she presented herself—sweet, not much to say. Just like now. 
Her attention is pulled by Onyankopon wrapping an arm over Ashleigh’s shoulders, teasing voice as he questions, “You’ bullying her?”
“Of course not, Daddy. I’m just having a chit chat with my friend,” she responds, giving a flutter of her eyelashes, “But speaking of, I’m finna’ go check on my girls!” 
She raises her lips up to give him a peck on the chin, giving Sweetpea another wave as she dismisses, “See you, girl! Watch my man for me!”
Sweetpea gives her an equally fake wave, waiting until she’s away from them before she glances back to Onyankopon, “She’s lovely, isn’t she?”
He shakes his head as he watches Ashleigh’s curvy figure walk over to her own friends. She always knew how to get under someone’s skin. 
“Ain’t you finna’ ask me all my stats for the game?” he mutters, smirking down at her as he crosses his arms, leaning over the table beside them.
She tilts her head a bit, the flow of her hair wafting his nose of jasmine and vanilla as she sighs, “Hmm, no. But I bet you’re gonna tell me.”
Her scent makes him want to growl like an animal, but he assumes it’s the beer. It has to be. 
“Two-hundred and forty passing yards, three-hundred and fifteen total yards. Four touchdowns, zero turnovers.”
She leans along the table as well, giving him a small smile as she corrects, “Five touchdowns—they tried to foul you, and you almost smacked the referee.”
He smiles like a giddy child, “So you’ was’ watching me.”
“If I say you’re the only reason I come to the games, your ego might put you in cardiac arrest,” she rolls her eyes, “I watch you just as much as you be on my ass during my games. Just returning the favor.”
“Mhm. You look good as fuck tonight.”
She feels her face become a bit warm, taking another sip of her drink, beginning to feel the buzz as she smacks her lips, “Save all that for Ms. Big Booty in your varsity jacket.”
“You’ just as thick,” he responds in a low tone, “Be makin’ the ground shake at every game. You’ can barely fit them shorts.”
That gets her to actually giggle, punching his arm as she says, “Shut the fuck up, and quit staring at my ass. You’ got a whole lil’ girlfriend to be diligent with.”
He chuckles as she hits him, “Who says I be starin’ at your ass? I was starin’ at them thighs, mothafucka’s is colossal.” 
“Only thing colossal is that big ass head of yours. If we put you under a satellite, the wifi cranking up in here!” She snaps back, “Yeah, that was good, huh?” She chuckles at his full on laugh. It was deep, genuine. Maybe even sexy.
“Yo’ ass so stupid,” he shakes his head, “Got the nerve to call me the comedian?”
He pauses, his eyes raking over her frame again. He was always looking at her. But this time, he sees her. Her brown freckles, the scrunch she made when she glanced around the room, the way she glowed beneath the dark purple lighting of the party. 
“Damn, you really are fine as hell when you don’t have an attitude.”
She rolls her eyes, trying to push away the feeling of her heart fluttering, “There you go talking again.”
“And there you go rolling them’ eyes…” He responds, raising his hand and using his thumb and index finger to tap her chin, “It’s cute.”
She pushes his hand away, “You want another reason for Ashleigh to burn that expensive ass varsity jacket of yours?”
“That girl will find a way to get mad at me even if I look at my shadow,” he smacks his lips, “Maybe I should’ve had you wearing it. You’ the one remembering all my plays.”
His skin equally glows beneath the lights, chains and grills shining against his black shirt, clung to his muscular frame in a way that compliments him, the colorful ink on his body, all of him—she sees him as well. There it was—those emotions returning to her. 
Maybe it was time to admit them. 
She swallows, holding her cup between her fingers as she whispers, “Ony—“
“Aye, fine shit.” 
Her eyes pull back to one of Onyankopon’s friends, a light skinned dreadhead all too familiar on campus. His bright pink lips, full goatee, brown eyes seemingly mischievous.
“Oh, um—hey, Rashaud,” she greets with a weak smile, pushing down everything she wanted to say.
“Come dance with me,” he tells her.
“Me?” She blinks.
Rashaud stands next to Sweetpea, his eyes roaming over her figure for a brief moment before he glances at his friend. 
“Yeah, you. You’ the only fine ass honey not on the floor with me,” he responds, his eyes lingering on the smooth tone of her thighs as she shifts them. He looks her up and down again, “Or you gon’ let a bunch of other niggas’ grind all over you?” 
Onyankopon’s eyes narrowed at him, a small frown pulling at his brow as he watched the interaction. He was irked.
She’s not used to having someone flirt with her like this. She blinks, “Um—“
“Girl, come dance! My song is on!”
Peanut comes swooping in as well, pulling her towards the crowd as Bring It Back by Travis Porter has everyone swarming towards the dance floor. Sweetpea gives Onyankopon an apologetic look as she’s being pulled away by her cousin and his friend. 
Even with Sweetpea’s shy demeanor at times, she knew how to have a good time. Bodies flood around her as she dances with Rashuad, ass pressed up against his hips as she grinds to the beat, eyes low, body intoxicated as he has a grip on her hair, tugging her down to meet his rhythm.
Onyankopon’s eyes narrowed even more, cooling his blood that warms beneath his skin as he takes a sip of his beer. 
…Why did he feel some type of way?  
His eyes locked onto her hair grasped between Rashaud’s large fingers, her body grinding against him slowly, looking him straight in the eye. Something in his jaw tightened, and maybe his dick jumped. 
His attention is pulled away as he feels arms wrap around his waist, Ashleigh interrupting him as she questions, “You’ gon give me some attention or keep watching Sweetpea bounce her ass on Rashaud?”
“I’m focused on you, girl. You’ the one I came with.” 
It wasn’t a whole lie, he did come with her. But a sudden  possession came over him when he thought about Sweetpea— and it was nothing like a brother, or a friend.
He’s back to glancing down as he hears Ashleigh smack her lips, pulling her arms back as she says, “Yeah, whatever nigga. I’m finna’ fuck around and find somebody else to dance with.”
She doesn’t give him the opportunity to respond as she left him, Onyankopon now actually irritated. But instead of doing anything, he takes another sip of his beer, preparing to grab for another one.
Sweetpea spent the rest of her night accompanied by Rashaud, although he was becoming a bit suffocating. She enjoyed the dance she’d given him, but that’s all she really wanted. 
When people begin making their way out the door, his dreads hover over her face as he questions, “You’ finna’ come to my dorm?” 
She gives him a light laugh, “Nah, I got a game tomorrow. Need all the rest I can get.”
A frown pulled at his lips, “Aww, really? You gon’ be up by yo’ self when you could be gettin’ company from me? Damn, Mami. You’ heartless.”
She laughs softly, “I’m sure you can find someone else to accompany you. Didn’t Onyankopon ride with you anyways?”
“He did. But I don’t know where that’ nigga at. If you see him, tell him I’m leaving. Otherwise a bitch finna’ be in the passenger,” he dismisses, Sweetpea chuckling, “Noted,” as he walks off.
She pushes her way through the bodies as she finds Ashleigh before Peanut, not wanting to speak to her, but her parental mode is beginning to switch on—where the hell was he? 
“Yo’, you’ seen Onyankopon?”
Ashleigh glances at Sweetpea, the irritation clearly present on her face as she answers, “I don’t know. He’ got me tight as hell, left me to talk to some other niggas and never answered my calls or texts when I was looking for him. I assumed he was with you,” she gives her an up and down, still glaring.
“Rashaud says he’s not getting a ride back to his car if he doesn’t leave now,” Sweetpea ignores Ashleigh’s attitude, “Are you taking him home?”
“Tuh! He got legs, he can make it,” she answers, rolling her eyes, “He chose to leave my ass, that’ nigga can find his way home. Matter of fact, you can take him, imma’ ask Rashaud to take me home.”
And with that, she’s already making her way to the exit, lightly bumping Sweetpea on the way out. She raises her eyebrows at the encounter, feeling her cousin come beside her as she mutters, “Ain’t she lovely?”
“Mhm,” Sweetpea murmurs, Peanut adding, “You gon’ be good to get Onyankopon home?” 
“If I find him.” 
“His ass’ too big to be lost,” Peanut says, shaking her head as she wasn’t surprised.
She spots several of his friends during her search, but no sign of him at all. She does one more search inside the fraternity as she goes upstairs, about to leave when she halts. 
She spots him leaned against one of the game rooms couches, snoring like a bear. She has to hold back her laugh—he was like an infant, sleeping anywhere he could. 
She sighs, leaning down as she smacks his forehead, “C’mon, boy. I’d like to go home.”
He groans loudly, his eyebrows furrowing as she interrupts his sleep. She’s pretty, even if his vision is blurry. 
“Damn, why you smackin’ me?”
“Cause you’ve somehow managed to piss off all the people who would’ve taken you back to your car tonight, and now I have to be a chauffeur for your drunk ass. Get up,” she tugs at his shirt, the action no effort to his weight.
“Ain’t nobody drunk, girl. I’m just sleepy.”
Another trait of his sleepiness—the grumpiness that also consumed it. She knows him.
 She exhales a bit as she then asks, “Want tacos?” 
He perks up, one eye opening fully as the word leaves her lips, “You buyin’?”
“Yes—“
He shoots up, leaning on her smaller frame to balance himself, almost toppling the both of them over that it causes Sweetpea to squeak. 
She places his arm over her shoulders as she helps him walk, “You’re a mess.”
“You’re tiny,” he responds, letting her bear the majority of his weight against her smaller frame, “I ain’t even that heavy—how they’ let your lil’ ass play ball?” 
It takes her ten minutes to make it to the taco stand, there to sober up drunk college students like the man sitting in her passenger seat. She could tell his headache was coming on as he covered his face with his hand, Sweetpea giving a kind smile to the worker as she took to-go boxes within her palms, climbing back into the car and placing the styrofoam on his lap.
“I got your birria tacos. And there’s someTylenol packets I grabbed from the corner store. Take those first,” she orders, reaching in her backseat for a bottle of water.
Once he managed to gain control of his headache, he opened his tacos up, the heavenly aroma of birria filling the car as he began eating them immediately. He’s already halfway finished while she hadn’t even pulled away from the stand. 
He was a greedy drunk.
She drives down the road back towards her dorm, holding back her giggle as she tells him, “Please don’t suffocate because you’re not swallowing your food.”
“If I die, know that these are good ass tacos.”
He’d practically eaten two, reaching in the container for another one before glancing at her, “How come you ain’t eat none?”
“I’ll eat later. I just didn’t want you to be hungover,” she glances at him, “Your lil’ Ashleigh didn’t seem to care where you ended up tonight. How’d you manage to piss her off again?”
“She got mad when me and Rashaud went to smoke. ‘Thought I was out there with some bitch, had a tantrum and started blowing my shit up, so I had to put my phone on DND.”
He stuffed another bite in his mouth before continuing to talk again.
“Girl gets on all my nerves.”
“You like her,” Sweetpea shrugs, “But next time, at least be nice to her before you gotta leave a party? You’ got my gas tank low because I have to go move your car to make sure you don’t get towed.”
“Aye— she was the one who got upset, not me. I wasn’t rude— just ignored that ass,” his head was still pounding, a reminder that he was still pretty wasted, “I can move my own car and fill up your tank. My bad, shawty.”
“You think I’m letting you drive? You’ve been drinking,” she shakes her head, “It’s fine.”
“Don’t act like you ain’t been drinkin’ too. I saw you, bouncing your ass all over Rashaud.”
She could hear the sharpness in his words, raising an eyebrow as she turned the corner, “It was just a dance.”
When he doesn’t respond and glances down at his phone, the both of them go quiet. Onyankopon’s tipsy ears began  hearing a familiar instrumental on the radio—Can We Talk by Tevin Campbell—turning up the song as he howled, “Oooh, that’s that shit!”
Sweetpea rolls her eyes, giggling softly as she watches him drunkenly sing along, swinging his arms, clutching her legs to the music.
 She smacks him away as she continues, “Anyways, Rashaud just wants somebody to hump on. I want a nigga who’s gonna sing outside my window. Some stupid, cheesy, romantic shit. Not some hookup after a party. However, some head would be nice at the moment,” she shrugs.
He eyes her for a moment, eyes darkening at her words, “You want a simp ass nigga,” he confirms, the word leaving his lips with a slight hint of disdain, “Who gon’ do all that corny, lame bullshit.”
To think that she wanted to confess her feelings to him earlier that night, his tone now irritates her. She parks in front of his shiny black Charger, turning towards him as she narrows her eyes, “Call it what you want. If I dealt with the bullshit you play with Ashleigh, I’d turn your ass every way fuckin’ loose on this campus. I’d never let a nigga play with me. You’ wanna keep fishin’ for pussy, that’s cool. You’ll feel empty later.”
She raises her hand, “Give me your keys.”
He’s silent for a moment, his brain slowly processing her words before he finally realizes what she’s actually upset about. But he couldn’t respond—didn’t really know how to. So instead, his hand reached in his pocket to fish out his keys, placing them in her palm in silence.
She hates that it’s now awkward, but she was annoyed with him. She didn’t need him to like her back. But with a mentality like that, it was telling her everything she needed to know before she got the chance to express herself. 
She parked his car in her lot, pulling her Coach purse over her shoulder as they began making their way into her dorm. She was quiet, pushing open the door as she knew Peanut wasn’t home. 
He feels guilty. He could try cracking a joke—but he knew her better than that. 
She tosses her keys as she makes her way to the sofa, now feeling the ache of her feet in these heels as she bends down to begin untying them. Her light groan fills the room as he soles throb by the second.
When he hears her groan of pain from her sore feet, he can’t help himself. He’s taking a seat on the other side of the sofa, reaching for her foot that she was struggling with. 
“C’mere.”
“I’m fine,” she murmurs, beginning to untie them faster, the ribbon becoming more tangled as she does this in frustration.
“Don’t start being stubborn now, shawty,” his large hand grabbing her ankle and tugging her towards him, “I said c’mere. Just lemme help you.”
She rolls her eyes, stopping the fight she wants to give as she allows him to help her. She leans herself on the elbow dug into the sofa’s material, blowing her hair out of her face as a habit. She was the one for silent treatment, but she didn’t have time for that at this moment. 
“You’ really meant what you said in the car?”
“What I said about you wantin’ a simp ass nigga?” 
He starts massaging the arch of her foot, working his thumb into the  tight muscle. The feeling makes her foot twitch, the alcohol in her system making this massage a little too good. She nods her head, adjusting herself as she feels her body throb in lower places.
“You deserve better than a nigga who’s gonna people-please his way into some pussy.” 
“I’m not asking for a doormat, Ony. I was just saying I don’t want that bullshit you play on all these girls. Arguing, miscommunication, confusion. It’s too much,” she admits with a shrug, “I don’t know how you do it.”
“I do it cause it’s fun,” he admits, watching his fingers work on massaging her foot, “Ain’t none of my relationships serious. You on the other hand…ain’t never been in a relationship. How you’ know you want all that?”
“How do you know what you’ve never experienced?” She turns the question on him, “Have you ever been in love with someone to know that something serious feels just as good as what you call fun?”
Now that was a question. 
“I have been in love with someone, yeah.”
She doesn’t expect that answer. She sighs a bit, leaning herself more on her hand as she says, “I think that being soft isn’t the worst thing in the world. I know I can be…a lil’ rough around the edges. Someone to remind me that it’s okay to be all girly, lovey, corny, wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.” 
Her eyes fall to her lap, playing with her fingers at her admission.
“Don’t say that, man. Ain’t no nigga out here would see you as the rough type,” he shakes his head, “You’re the sweetest person I know. You just got’ no filter and you don’t take bullshit. That’s different.”
A soft laugh pulls from her at that, eyes closing as she hums from his hands loosening the tense muscles on her feet. She sighs, “You’re saying that to be nice. You’re a sweetie when you massage my feet.”
“I’m serious. You ain’t rough at all—just my pretty ass girl who plays ball.”
Her eyes come open a bit as she repeats, “My?”
He realizes his mistake, freezing in place before he quickly clarifies, “You know what I meant.”
Another air of silence between them. It’s like a tension is building, and she’s not sure where it’s coming from. They’d been alone many times before, but this was different. 
She pulls her leg back a bit as she groans, “Fuckin’ feet still hurt. Maybe I need a shower.”
She goes to stand, when she’s suddenly captured by large arms, cuffed under her ass as she’s lifted within the air. She shrieks, “Onyankopon!”, stifling out a shocked giggle as he travels into her bedroom, flopping them down onto the bed. 
“The only thing you need to be doing right now is laying down and lettin’ me take care of yo’ ass for once,” he responds, landing right on top of her, pinning her underneath his body in the process. 
She tilts her head a bit, the intoxication of the night's previous drink suddenly catching up to her. She’s floaty as she giggles, “You’re drunk, you can’t take care of me.”
“You think I can’t?” he smacks his lips, “Better than any simp ass nigga ever could.”
“So you wanna take place of my metaphorical nigga?” She blinks, giggling even more. 
“No, I’m gon’ be your very literal nigga.”
Fuck, here it was again. That tension she questioned earlier. Their eyes are pouring into another’s, and she can’t help herself at this point. 
Sweetpea does it before she thinks—she leans her head up as she gently presses her lips to his, kissing him.
Oh.
He’s caught off guard by this, his brain frozen from processing the small kiss—But the sweetness of her lips are intoxicating. Within seconds, his brain starts to function again and he’s kissing her back, lips moving with hers in a slow, passionate rhythm.
It was nothing like she’d expected. When she feels his tongue in her mouth, heavy, is when she realizes she kissed him. 
She pulls back, one hand against the side of his neck as she presses her other fingers to her mouth, warmth against her face as she says softly, “…I’m sorry.”
He’s still hovering over her, his head spinning from the intense kiss. When she pulled away, it was almost like a bucket of ice water was thrown on him, mind racing over what had just happened. 
“You don’t gotta—I ain’t mad you did that, Mama,” he responds, trying his best to keep his voice even, “You don’t gotta apologize.”
“I didn’t—“ she pulls herself up a bit, “I’m sorry. I just thought—fuck, I’m stupid. I’m sorry,” she can’t stop apologizing.
“Cut that out,” he grunts, moving one of his arms to take hold of her chin, making her look at him, “Talk to me. Why are you apologizing?”
“Kissing means a lot more to me than what it means to you, Onyankopon,” she narrows her eyes, “I need to go shower, and you’re still drunk.”
Those words sting. A lot. 
“You think that meant nothin’ to me?” The grip on her chin becoming tighter, “Like I’m some nigga for shits and giggles?”
She’s full on glaring at him now,  “That’s what you make yourself to be. I’m not tryna’ get in your crossfire.”
“You know that’s bullshit. I’m not that nigga I make myself out to be—Not with you.”
“That’s supposed to make me feel better? That everything’s suddenly so different with me? If you felt like that, why are you only saying it cause I kissed you?” 
She runs her fingers through her hair, sighing with a humorless laugh, “This is stupid.” 
“Why’d you do it, then? Huh? Why’d you kiss me if you didn’t want shit to change?”
“We’ve both been drinking.”
He smacks his lips, “I ain’t even drunk no more—be for real with me. I wouldn’t be mad if you felt something for me. If you want me.” 
“It doesn’t matter whether I want you—You don’t have to want me because that’s what I’m looking for.” 
She’s being deceptive, but it’s better than getting herself hurt.
“You think I don’t want you? You think that I don’t have feelings for you?”
She’s feeling her throat becoming tight, looking him up and down as her voice becomes soft, “…I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?” He’s leaning down so he’s eye level with her, “Damn near twenty years of knowin’ each other and you don’t know?”
She moves her face back a bit, arms crossed over her chest as she feels that pounding return in her ears. She knew there was a possibility of feelings being reciprocated, but to hear it out loud, it’s as if she’d gone deaf. 
Her breath comes out uneven as his mouth is closer to hers, pressing her hand against his chest as she repeats, “I don’t.” 
“Don’t fuckin’ play with me,” his jaw clenches at her response, leaning even closer as his breath hits her face.
She clutches the material of his shirt as she shudders, “Move, Onyankopon.”
He leans closer, close enough for his lips to almost touch hers. His voice is deep—she can’t think at this point.
 He grunts, “Let me have you. You’ being hardheaded.”
It’s as if she’d run a marathon. She clutches his shirt tighter, unsure if she wanted to pull him just a centimeter closer, or fully push him away. Her breathing is unsteady as her eyes falter shut. 
She nods her head as she begs, “…Kiss me, please.”
He doesn’t waste another second, bringing his hand to cup around the back of her neck as he roughly crushes his lips into hers.
His mouth feels heavy again, Sweetpea breathless against his lips as he tongues her down, eyes rolling back from something as simple as a kiss—She’s spinning. The strength of his lips travel as they drop down to her throat, her fingers sliding down his back with every movement, grazing her nails into the skin as she softly gasps, “…O—Ony…”
He’s leaving hickeys along her neck, biting and sucking the skin as he moves between each spot. Her nails in his flesh makes him groan. 
“You gotta stop digging in my shit like that,” he mutters in between each hickey, licking and soothing the mark he made before sucking another one, “Makes me wanna do sum’ you’ not ready for.”
“I’m—sorry,” she whispers, bringing her fingers to the nape of his neck, pressing him closer to her throat as she embarrassingly pleads, “I…like when you kiss me here…”
He groans again, latching his lips back onto her neck as he sucks on the sensitive skin, leaving hickey after hickey. 
“Yeah? Like that?” He can’t help but lowly chuckle, turning it into a grunt, “Where else you’ like me kissin’ you?”
She could feel a throb beginning to form between her legs. Her back shudders into an arch, Onyankopon’s lips catching her nipples nudging through the thin material of her top, roughly kissing at them as his mouth goes down lower, lower…
Her fingers are against his arm as her head comes up, her heart beating within her chest as her cheeks flush, “I—I don’t k—know,” jerking away from him each time he moves.
“You tellin’ me you don’t know where else you want me kissin’ you?” He’s now looking up at her under the shadows of his lashes, tongue running along his lips as if he were preparing for a meal.
His fingers are like Velcro against her skin, sliding beneath her top, clinging against her chest as his lips suck up pieces of her stomach, spreading her legs in between his body. Her ankles slide along his backside, legs dropping against his shoulders as he puts them there—she feels like her heart might start beating outside of her chest. 
She grips along his arm as she moves with him, trembling under his touch as she exhales, “I—Ony….” She can’t speak.
“You sound good as fuck sayin’ my name like that,” he huffs as he moves lower, “Like you ain’t never said it before…keep that shit up.”
She catches herself over thinking, knowing that she wasn’t nearly as experienced as him—she really didn’t know what she wanted. She hated how shy she felt, but this moment didn’t feel like it existed in her mind, it was like a hazy dream. Blame it on the alcohol. 
With that intoxicated courage, she presses her legs together as she raises her hips, beginning to peel her shorts off her body. Her embarrassment floods the river within her mind as she sees his jaw clench. Pulling him up into a distracting kiss, she closes her eyes to rid the self-consciousness. 
The kiss he returns feels impatient. He’s sucking against her tongue, losing to the temptation he’s holding back to devour her— he just can’t help himself. 
When her legs spread back open, the caramel skin disappears beneath the bubblegum pink of her pussy, glistening from her arousal. It makes him practically famished.
 He pulls himself back, “You’ pretty as fuck, don’t do all that…” placing her legs back over his shoulders, locking his eyes down with an almost awed expression. 
“Damn…”
He’s kissing her thighs, voice low into the crook of her inner skin as he compliments, “Pussy pretty as fuck, I gotta give her a kiss.” 
He lowers his mouth down to come in contact with how wet she already is, nudging his lips in between the folds. He welcomes the nub into his mouth as he gives it a french kiss, tongue tossing her clit that throbs as he makes contact with it. She whimpers, raising her hand onto his head, sliding against the softness of his braids, wanting to jump out of her skin at this very moment. Why did it already feel so good?
That whimper— It’s the most vulnerable he’s heard her. He grunts, “Ain’t never tasted some pussy like this,” swirling his tongue lower to have it sink in between her folds, the mixture of arousal and saliva beginning to collect in his beard. His jaw is dropping up and down in repetitions, opening his mouth wider to catch every single part of her—she’s like candy, a reward after a game, a prize no one else could receive. Her taste explodes across his senses, making him growl low in his throat.
Her lips part, an almost shocked look on her face as she gasps, chest arching up as she brings her eyes down to watch. It’s almost like a torturous tickle, another shuddering whimper plummeting from her mouth as she frowns, “Agh—Ony…” his tongue dragging every which way on her pussy, hovering over her opening to have another make out session with her clit.
This is his alcohol, his drug of choice. He's giving her slow licks, his hot breath causing her muscles to flutter in a way that has him moan, “Ooh shit, pussy gettin’ tight from my mouth…”
He’s smearing her wetness across her folds and inner thighs, hands gripping her ass firmly, kneading the plump cheeks as he gives the skin a spank, Sweetpea full on moaning in response. Onyankopon looks up at her with lust-filled eyes, "Yeah, I wanna hear that. Keep that the fuck up.”
Her head falls back against the bed as she releases tiny moans, hearing her own voice in her ears making her cheeks hot. He’s relentless, slurping her up so that it creates a loud sound within the room, head swiveling side to side, up and down, in circles, her arousal floods the sheets beneath her body. When his tongue drags down to meet her opening with a filthy kiss, it sinks in all at the same time, making her whine out, “Fuck,” trembling as she gasps, pressing her knees to her chest to hold her shaking legs.
Grunting in satisfaction at her reaction, Onyankopon takes it further, licking her entrance before pushing his tongue back inside, curling it up to stroke her inner walls. He pulls back, letting out a deep rumble, "Damn, you taste so fuckin’ good,” his own eyes nearly rolling back, “Fuck…” 
Slurp, slurp, the sounds fill the air in a nasty way, his nose pressed against her swollen lips. He's licking her up and down, from her clit to her entrance, going as deep as possible without pushing back inside, savoring her flavor. She’s clawing at his skin, shaking like a leaf in a way she didn’t expect herself to. He’d never been so fixated on a girl, so enthralled—he couldn't stop himself. 
Onyankopon leans up to capture her lips in a rough kiss, swallowing her cries under his tongue as he thrusts in and out, mimicking the act they both crave.
Her fingers go to touch him, palms trembling so much that she can barely get a grip along his skin, kissing him back in such a consuming muddle.
He chuckles darkly, "Look at you, all fucked up,” lips latching back down to her clit, his free hand reaching up to tangle in her hair, tugging her head back to add more pleasure, yanking her down to meet the aching wait of his mouth.
Pleasure wasn’t even the word at this point. She feels faint, spots within her vision as his other fingers press between her plump lips, pulling her by the bite of her teeth to watch him. 
She muffles in between her whimpers, “O—Ony—” she feels panicked, as if she doesn’t know how this could feel so good, pressing her hand to his arm to slow him down, “S—Stop, I’m gonna p—pee…”
A deep chuckle rumbles through his chest, vibrating against her flesh, “You ain’t finna’ pee, Mama,” he murmurs against her, tongue still flicking rapidly over her clit. He adds more pressure, watching her deep inhales, her exhale dragging out into a small sob, tears brimming her eyes as she finds his hair again.
Her ankles are in the air, the slurp of her pussy, his voice, it’s all too much for her. The tears in her eyes are in between harsh waves of pleasure and embarrassment, unable to stop the pressure of release as she unknowingly squirts in his mouth, her moans broken, whining, squealing as she gushes out. She trembles, “O—Oh my god…” the gasps pulling from her mouth are almost dangerous.
“Why you’ squirting like that,” he groans, never pulling away as he delves his mouth deeper, drinking in her essence as her orgasm hits, taste intensifying with each spasm of her pussy.
She whines, “Ony—stoppp,” crying like a baby, a mess at this point. She hiccups in between, trying to latch her legs closed, whimpering at the painful spank she gets in return, his growl almost evil. He just can’t stop.
“Got a nigga thirsty as fuck.” 
His tongue is interminable, lapping across her sensitive flesh, coaxing forth new surges of ecstasy. He enjoys the way her whole body vibrates beneath him. His face is drenched, beard shampooed as she’s coating him like a splash of water from the sink—she can’t stop cumming.
He’s in between her legs, pleasuring her in a way she’d never been catered to before. Her legs are shaking, her voice is hoarse as she cries for him, the most vulnerable she’d ever been. She practically begs him to stop, teary eyed and body vibrating from the countless releases as he pulls himself up to her, forehead pressing against her own, her heavy breathing gusting along his face like wind. Her tear stained cheeks are warm, eyes closed as she can’t bring herself to look at him.
He kisses her cheeks, gently brushing away the tears. He’s hovering over her, one hand planted by the side of her head, resting his weight on it as the other strokes the side of her face. 
“Open your eyes,” he instructs softly, “Lemme see you.”
After a moment, her wet lashes flutter open. She returns her hand to the back of his neck, noticing the look of amusement on his face. She closes her eyes again, hiding her face somehow as she whimpers, “Don’t laugh.”
There’s a look of almost tenderness on his face as he softly chuckles, taking her wrist to pull it away from her face. 
“I ain’t laughin’,” his voice is low, “I just like seein’ you like this…you look cute this way.”
She rolls her eyes, releasing her own small laugh. Her forehead is still pressed against his as she searches his face, seeing the vulnerability he carries in this moment. 
Her voice is small as she calls, “…Ony?”
“Yeah, Mama?” He’s got his fingers playing with the strands of her hair, eyes staring straight into hers, “What you need?”
“You don’t have to say you like me back if you really don’t…” her voice is soft, “I just—don’t want anything to feel forced…”
It’s almost painful how hesitant she looks in this moment, and he can’t help but narrow his eyes as if insulted. 
“You still deaf as fuck in one ear, huh?” His mouth is back to hovering over her face, lips inches from hers,  “I want you.”
She hears his voice—she listens. Nodding her head, she pulls him back into a gentle kiss, lowering her hand as she tugs at the belt on his jeans. Her mouth pulls back as she feels his fingers intertwine in her palms, pressing her hand back onto the bed.
“Hold up,” he murmurs as he pulls back, “I don’t want it like this—a nigga was just hungry and wanted to make you feel good. Couldn’t help but eat that pretty ass pussy. C’mon,” he gently smacks her ass, “You’ got a game tomorrow.”
She flinches a bit at his words, “Your mouth is bad,” ignoring the flush that returns in her face. She frowns a bit at his rejection, but she can also appreciate the wait. 
She hides the frown as she asks, “…Are you staying here?” 
“You need to ask if I’m stayin’ here? Where else am I gon’ go? A nigga ain’t finna’ leave after what we just did.”
Her vulnerability is still there. She glances around his face before she shakes her head, “Sorry.” 
She pulls him into another soft kiss, “You wanna come shower with me?”
“You gotta stop apologizin’ to me, Sweetpea. Shit is irritating.”
She scrunches her face up, “Okay, nigga. I’m just making sure. Actually, you ain’t gotta shower with me!” 
She stands from the bed with her arms crossed, unable to hide her giggle as he yanks her back towards him. 
“Stop playing,” he gruffly mutters, arms wrapping around her smaller frame, nudging a kiss on her throat, “C’mon. I’ll braid yo’ hair up for the game tomorrow.”
She had to surpass the embarrassment of bathing with him, already beneath the shower head as he removed his clothes. Her eyes trail down to his sculpted frame, the ink on his pelvic, glancing at the monster that slaps along his belly button, hanging between his legs. 
But even in this steamy environment—It’s sweet, a different Onyankopon that she’d never seen. He stands behind her as he sensually washes her body, trailing kisses against her skin, washing her hair in a way that feels loving. From sitting on the floor with him as he braids her hair back for her game the next day, to her face against his chest as he snored above her. She was in love with this man. 
When the next morning comes, her eyes open to find that she was by herself in the bed. She doesn’t know why she becomes a bit worried. But as her eyes find his chain against her dresser, a sticky note beside it reads—
‘COACH CALLED FOR A MEETING. LEFT MY CHAIN SO I HAD A REASON TO COME BACK.’ 
A small smile comes to her lips at that. Her attention is pulled as she hears her door open, her cousin Peanut leaning into the frame with a raised eyebrow. 
Sweetpea scratches her head as she gives an awkward smile, “Uh…hey.” 
“Hey. He’s gone I see,” Peanut crosses her arms over her chest, “You two finally did it, huh?”
“No, no. We didn’t. Um—“
She hesitates a bit, “We just…slept off the alcohol,” she shrugs.
“Right. So, is that why he left his chain on your dresser?”
She glances at the dresser before looking back to her cousin, “Girl, shut up. You’ wanna go hoop for a little?”
Peanut snickers, moving out of the door frame, “You know I do. Come on, it’ll be a fun way to blow off your hangover.”
Onyankopon was grown, but why was she so worried when the entire day almost went by, and she hadn’t heard from him? 
Her and Peanut practiced for a while, got food, even stopped at another teammate's dorm. Nothing. She’d called him twice with no answer, and hadn’t seen him on campus. She walks back towards her dorm with Peanut, sighing as she glances back down to her phone. 
“This nigga better come get his chain before I throw it out,” she mutters in irritation. 
Peanut chuckles, walking beside her as she says, “Clinging onto him already? It’s cute. Y’all my couple goals or whatever!” 
Sweetpea rolls her eyes, “What if everything last night was just in the moment, Peanut? He was just fuckin’ with Ashleigh not too long ago.”
“Ain’t no nigga leaving his chain at your place if he doesn’t like you. Y’all have known each other for years, Pea. He likes you.”
“Yeah, he likes a lot of bitches. Including Ms. Big Booty Hoe,” she reminds.
Peanut shoves her cousin in the shoulder 
as they reach the dorm, pushing her key into the knob as she says, “You really gon’ let your doubt ruin a good thing? Pussy.” 
Sweetpea raises an eyebrow, “Pussy? Rude—”
When she opens the door to their dorm, they both halt. It’s a nightmare if Sweetpea had a word for it. Their eyes come into focus on Onyankopon on the couch, Ashleigh along his lap, his varsity jacket on her shoulders as her lipstick smears against his cheek. The both of them have a look on their face as if they didn’t expect to be caught— but there’s not enough time to process anyone’s expression. 
Onyankopon was already standing to explain himself, while Sweetpea is lunging forward, her body being caught by her cousin who wraps an arm around her chest to stop her. She practically sees red.
His jaw tenses as he sees her ready to swing, “You’ finna hit me?”
She jerks in her cousins hold, “I’ll hit you and your hoe,  nigga! I never gave a fuck— Are you serious?” 
“Who are you calling a hoe?” Ashleigh frowns, stepping forward herself, Onyankopon pulling her back.
“Bitch, you!” 
It took a lot to get Sweetpea out of character. She’s not even listening to what he has to say, ready to throw hands with the girl on the couch, and him.  
“Chill the fuck out, Pea,” he warns,  “It’s not even like that.”
“Not like that? It looks like you was finna’ fuck a bitch in my dorm!” She exclaims, “How the fuck else does it look? I should really smack the shit out of you!”
"I said it ain’t even like that, Pea!” he defends, “I called her to get my jacket. That’s all.”
“So why the bitch on your lap?” She frowns, “You think I’m stupid as fuck? Fuckin’ lipstick on your face and shit,” she mushes his face with her palm, unfazed by his glare, “You got the bitch in my dorm—my dorm!”
She hates that there’s angry tears in her eyes, being held even tighter by her cousin, not even focused on the fact that Ashleigh still stands within the room.
"I swear to fuckin’ god bro—It ain’t what it looks like, but you also not finna’ hit me, Pea,” he warns with a step forward, “You need to calm your ass down and let me explain!”
“Nigga—fuck you!” She mushes his face again, “And this bitch! Y’all fuckin’ deserve each other! I hope you know that she was fuckin’ yo’ friend Rashaud last night after that party while you letting the bitch on your lap!” 
Her words are sharp, angry, but overall hurt. She’d never planned to admit her feelings to Onyankopon in fear that they’d get thrown back in her face—here it was. 
A look comes along his face, as if he was genuinely surprised to hear this information. He has no time to even process that, before he hears Ashleigh go off, “That ain’t your business to be telling, bitch!”
When Sweetpea goes to swing at this girl, Peanut is the one to dismiss the chaos within the room, fully pulling her cousin back to stop this from becoming worse. 
“Y’all need to chill the fuck out before the RA hears this bullshit. Onyankopon, you should’ve never brought Ashleigh to our dorm, no matter what the fuck was going on. And you need to get the fuck out. I don’t have any issue with jumping you in this hoe,” Peanut threatens Ashleigh.
Ashleigh sneers, “Fuck all of y’all,” throwing the jacket on the sofa—but she doesn’t leave before giving Sweetpea the finger, moving quick as the girl continues to struggle under her cousins hold.
When Sweetpea brings her eyes back to Onyankopon, there’s less anger in her face. She pushes out of Peanut’s hold as she shuts her emotions down in that exact moment.
“I have a game later—I don’t have time for this shit.” 
To see her go from that vulnerability he always chased, showing him a completely different side of her—to this. It was like nothing had changed between them. 
“Pea—“
She slams her door, leaving the both of them outside. That was the end of it. At least for now. 
                                        𝓐ᥫ᭡
TWO MINUTES LEFT IN THE GAME. The court was where she belonged, but her mind was elsewhere. Her eyes tried their best to pull away from him as he was in the bleachers, watching her every move like he always did. That would never change. But she wasn’t in her element tonight. She’d been missing plays, dropping the ball, foul after foul. 
It got to the point where seconds were in the last quarter, and as she took the opportunity to throw the ball into the hoop, she watched as it completely missed, her eyes trailing over to the audience that watched with expressionless faces. 
The game ends, her teammates looking at her, Peanut’s expression filled with worry—it was all wrong. As the other team jumped around and cheered for their win, Sweetpea walked over to the bench as she sat herself down, dropping her face into her jersey as she cried. Frustrated with herself, frustrated with this entire day.
Onyankopon watches her shoulders shake beneath her jersey. He wants nothing more than to comfort her, but he knows that will only drive the knife deeper. So he sits there, watching in silence as her teammates pat her on the back, offering their support as their coach talks to them, scolding Sweetpea for her performance. 
He had to fix this.
A couple of days had gone by. Sweetpea had trapped herself within her dorm for the weekend, just wanting to get her mind together for the next week. She wanted her mind to be blank— but all she could think about was how having a childhood crush got her into this entire situation. She sits against her bed with one of her textbooks open, body swallowed under her oversized graphic tee and hair sprawled around her face, just freshly showered from bed rotting. 
Her eyes glance up to her door peeking open as Peanut appears, “You’ gonna be good before I head out?”
“I’m good, Peanut,” she brushes off, “Where you’ going?”
“Just to a party,” she replies from the doorway, “You sure you don’t want to come? Might cheer you up, you know? Get your mind off everything.” 
Peanut's brown eyes move from her cousin towards the floor as she sighs, “…I’m worried about you, Pea.“
“I’m good,” she repeats, “I just…wanna take some time to myself. I got exams to study for—go have fun for me, okay? Send me pictures,” she gives a weak smile, dropping the pen in between her fingers.
She can tell that Sweetpea was lying, but she wasn’t going to force her to go.
“Okay,” she says softly, taking a few steps back, “Call me if you need anything.”
She gives her a wave as she shuts the door. She wasn’t necessarily lying, she did want time to herself— But that didn’t mean the solitude wasn’t lonely. 
Her TV was extremely low within its volume setting as she studied. But as she continued to highlight important sections, her attention was caught by the sound of music coming from outside. It’s a familiar song, loud enough that it’s coming from someone’s car, disturbing her studying. If it was bothering her, it definitely bothered others within the complex. 
She takes a breath as she pushes herself off the bed, fuzzy socks along the ground as she pulls the blinds of the window to peek outside. And when she does—she’s in for something. 
Her eyes watch as Onyankopon is standing on the grass across from her window below, Can We Talk by Tevin Campbell playing loudly with all the windows down on his car, his arms out as he serenades her. Her mouth drops open.
He’s never felt like more of a dumbass than in this moment. Yelling out a love song in the middle of the afternoon just to get a girl to talk to him again. He didn’t care that people were recording him, beginning to open their windows in shock—all he had on his mind was the window to Sweetpea’s dorm.  He just hoped it didn’t take her long to open it.
She panics as she pulls her blinds up, opening the actual window as she leans out, “Onyankopon, what the hell are you doing?!”
“The hell it look like?!” he calls out to her, “You’ been avoiding me! You said you wanted a nigga to serenade you!”
“Onyankopon,” her mouth drops open a bit, “You cannot be serious right now!”
“I’m dead serious!” he snaps back, “You won’t talk to me, won’t answer my texts, and don’t answer when I call!” He points his finger up at the dorm, “Get your ass down here before I start doing choreography like New Edition!”
He’s back to singing, people yelling out from their windows, irritated with the interruption he causes. Her mouth drops even lower at this, and to avoid her RA blaming her for this entire mess, she slips on her house shoes as she darts downstairs, opening the double doors of her dorm to see him now standing across from her.
“Can you stop?!” She throws her arm out, wanting him to cut the music playing out of his car, “If I get reported I’m turning your ass loose on this grass!”
“Now see? That’s all you had to do.” 
His arms lower as he moves around the front of the car, cutting the music off, “You was’ up there studying?”
She crosses her arms over her chest, “Make your point quick as fuck, Onyankopon. Otherwise I’m going back upstairs.”
“Aight, look—You’ been blowing me off because of a dumb ass fight—That ain’t right, Sweetpea. You can’t just ignore a nigga you care about.” 
“Good thing I don’t care, hm?” She raises an eyebrow, attempting to close the door, eyes narrowing as he locks his fingers against the handle.
"Bullshit. I know you better than that, Pea. You’ the type of girl to care.”
“And you the type of nigga to sweeten your way through anything,” she fires back, “Look, man. I gotta finish studying. Are you done?”
“Why you gotta shut me out, Pea? Why ‘you mad at me for caring about you? I know it was my fault, but you didn’t even let me talk to you about it.” 
He’s still gripping onto the door, not letting her close it on him. 
“Why you’ gotta make things difficult for me? Can’t I love your ass without you avoiding me on some bullshit?”
The word love echoes through her mind. She blinks as she’s thrown off a bit, searching his face through the black sweatshirt and Nike sweatpants he wears, his muscular frame silhouettes beneath it. 
Her eyes pull up as she hears a random person from their window, “Talk to that nigga so y’all can stop disturbing the entire complex, niggas is sleep and studying!” 
She brings her eyes back to him, contemplating for a moment. She sighs as she rolls her eyes, opening the door into the hallway of the dorms as she says, “Just hurry up and come in.”
He’s a bit relieved that she finally lets him in, shutting the door gently behind himself as soon as he steps into the girls’ dormitory. It’s weird to feel so awkward with her—he’s never felt so off with someone since he was in grade school.
She closes the door to her bedroom, turning towards him as she states, “You’ got five minutes, Onyankopon. Say what you need to say.”
She looks cute as hell in her fuzzy socks and oversized shirt, her hair sprawled around, falling past her shoulders. He has to make a conscious effort of looking into her eyes instead of staring at the way her shirt hides her curves.
He frowns, “Five minutes? That ain’t enough.”
“And now you have four.”
He takes a seat on the edge of her bed, looking around at the mess of textbooks and papers spread out along with her comforter. He’s quiet for a few seconds as he runs his hands over his face, finally looking up at her with a look of sincerity. 
“I’m sorry.”
“For?” 
“For hurting you.”
He can’t stand that she’s not looking at him as she moves things from the bed, so he stands back up, taking a few steps until he’s standing behind her.
“You ain’t even finna’ look at me?”
She sighs, halting herself as she gives him her undivided attention, “Yeah, okay. You hurt me, Onyankopon. The sky is also still blue. You’ saying shit I’m already aware of.”
“You’ still don’t have anything to say after ignoring me all week? I’d rather you be ready to swing.”
“Swing on you? I only wanted to do that because I was mad. I’m not a bitch who’s gonna keep playing around with you. I’ve known you for years, and you gave me the courage to feel like I could finally admit how I felt about you—How I’ve always felt. But you were too busy worrying about the next bitch, so it was easier to just be cool on you. You then say you feel the same, eat my pussy, and then I catch you with a bitch on your lap the very next day. Tell me, what would you have thought?” She questions, raising an eyebrow.
He can’t deny that she’s right about everything she said, but he never meant to hurt her this much. There was no excuse for what he did, and he’d rather have her scream than give him nothing. 
“You’ right,” he says after a few seconds of silence, “You’ completely right. But it wasn’t like that. I was on the way back to come see you—I asked Ashleigh to come bring my jacket back, and I was gonna end shit with her. She tried to make a move, and y’all walked in as I was tryna put her out.”
She searches his face, seeing that he looked to be telling the truth. He doesn’t add too many excuses or go into detail the way he would if he was lying. 
She then says, “Even if you were just tryna’ end shit with her, you know the bitch doesn't like me like that. You could’ve met her somewhere else on campus. Meet her at your dorm. It wasn’t cool to bring her here. And you’re grown as fuck, it should’ve never got far enough for her to be in your lap.”
“Yeah,” he replies, “Yeah, I know. I wasn’t thinking straight, and I wasn’t thinking about how it would look to you when you saw it. I can’t take it back, but I can apologize for it. For real—Alana, I love you.”
Hearing her government name fully throws her off. She’s visibly taken back as her arms fall from being crossed, pointing out, “You said you loved me earlier before you walked in. I figured you just meant that you liked me a lot.”
“Nah,” he says firmly, stepping even closer until he’s towering over her again, “I do love you. Hell—I think I have since the moment I met you. I was too busy being dumb and running through bitches because I couldn’t accept that I found someone that actually meant something to me. And I kept telling myself it was just a childhood crush that didn’t mean anything. But it ain’t.”
Sweetpea was unfortunately a softy. Her heart did in fact swell at his words, and something in her became extremely happy to confirm it had always been this way between them. She blinks for a couple of seconds, taking a step forward as she places a hand on his jaw, facial hair smooth beneath her fingers. 
“I’m…I’m sorry for overreacting. I just didn’t want to be hurt again. I’ve—loved you for a long time, and I don’t play about my feelings. I wanted them to mean something if I ever admitted them, and at that moment…they didn’t.”
His body visibly relaxes when he sees her softening—especially when he can feel the warmth of her palm against his face.
“Your feelings do mean something. Never think that they didn’t. I promise I’m never gonna hurt you again. I’m done running from you. I’m done being dumb as fuck. I’m yours.” 
The swell of her heart thumps against her chest at his words. It makes her gently tug at his jaw to pull him down, close enough for their lips to touch as she suppresses her smile, “Say it again.”
He can’t help the smirk that appears on his face when he hears her, pulling in even closer to where their noses brush against each other’s. 
“I’m yours, Sweetpea,” he repeats in a deep tone, “A nigga is in love with your mean ass.”
A soft giggle releases from her lips, her face warm at his words. She sighs a bit as his mouth is close, feeling her breath shuddering the same way it did the night before. 
She sighs, “I love you too, Onyankopon.”
His smirk grows even bigger when he hears her finally say the exact words he’d been dying to hear, the feeling of her hot breath against his mouth driving him crazy. He leans himself even closer as she grunts, “I’m missing your mouth bad as fuck.”
This felt like the right moment. 
“So kiss me,” her voice is small, but something equally stirs within her. She wants him just as bad. 
When he leans himself closer, he lets their lips just barely touch, pulling a breathy whimper from her mouth. She couldn’t hide the need she had for him anymore.
He’s tempted to go even slower and draw the moment out, but that sound against his mouth raises a grunt out of him, roughly locking their lips together. She has to bring her arms over his shoulders to balance herself, taking in a sharp breath as his tongue laps within her mouth, effortlessly lifting her feet off of the ground to travel towards the bed.
 When she makes contact with the comforter, her body kneels below him as he stands. She pulls her lips back as her low eyes travel, grazing her fingers down his torso, meeting with the strings of his sweatpants as she pulls at them.
 “…Can I?”
“Go ‘head,” his eyes are equally low, knocking down to watch her.
She can see his bulge from beneath the material as she pulls it down, being met with his dark pink tip, heavy as it slaps along his stomach. Her small fingers wrap around the base of him as her eyes flutter up, adjusting herself as she places her tongue along the tip, giving it a kiss. His spine tingles at that. She’s already wrapping her full lips around him, beginning to gently nudge her head back and forth, steadying her pace to become more comfortable. 
He groans, the sound rumbling deep in his chest as she takes him into her mouth, eyes rolling back slightly at the sensation of her warm, wet tongue gliding along his length. One of his hands comes up to thread through her hair, gripping it lightly as he guides her movements, “Suck that shit however you want to, baby. Just tryna’ help you.”
She feels nervous about her performance. Continuously adjusting her body in a way that makes her hips sway, her back arching as her curls fall around her face and forehead, Sweetpea opens her mouth wider as she drags her head back and forth, allowing his tip to rock against the back of her mouth. Saliva begins to collect at the sides of her reddening lips as she whines softly against him, twisting her head to take him even deeper.
His grip on her hair tightens, guiding her head further down as he thrusts upwards, hitting the back of her throat with a low growl, "Fuck...that's it, Mama." 
He watches her struggle a bit to breathe around him considering his hefty girth, the sight making his dick twitch. She becomes more comfortable by the second, folding her lips more inward as she tightens her mouth, beginning to suck him more towards her throat, creating a wet sound within the room. The walls of her cheeks clamp down against him, coaxing him in each time he pulls halfway out.
"Shit, baby. You’ tryna have me nut in that pretty ass mouth," he says, voice thick with lust. He starts fucking her face harder, holding her head still as he goes in and out, watching her throat constrict around him with each thrust. The wet sounds fill the room, accompanied by her muffled whimpers. 
He reaches forward as he smacks her ass, “Look at you, takin' every inch like a fuckin’ pro. All that fuckin’ mouth, let’s see if you taking dick like that.”
He pulls himself out until his tip hovers along her lips, saliva connected in between the two, her tongue flat against the top as her breath huffs out a sultry giggle. She drags her tongue on the outside of his dick, reaching down as she laps his balls from beneath, eyes still fluttering to stare up at him. She ached for him. 
Something in him becomes irritated at the sight— she looks ethereal, a haunting siren within his mind that dragged him in. He grunts, “You’ nasty as fuck.”
Sweetpea lightly gasps as he turns her the opposite way, pressing her stomach against the sheets while pulling her hands behind her back. Her body jolts as she feels him spank her again, hips arching up as his mouth lowers back down to meet with the entirety of her, sucking her clit in between his lips. She clutches his hand within the fingers he holds, face along the sheets of the bed as she moans softly, beginning to rub her pussy along his face.
He goes in between lapping at her folds while sucking on her clit, flicking it with his tongue as his beard scrapes her sensitive skin. He groans, feeling her juices coating his chin already.
“Needy ass fuckin’ girl,” he spanks her again, “Ride my face slow as fuck. I need a mess in my beard,” He commands, taking his palms against the cheeks of her ass, pacing a torturous rhythm to circle her hips in the air, his mouth catching her pussy back on his tongue.
 That slurping sound returns, her teeth digging into her lip, hair falling over her face as she softly moans and whines against him, arching her hips nonetheless.
His hands slide up her thighs, gripping her waist firmly as he tugs her down onto his face, tongue delving deeper inside as his nose buries into her ass. 
“Need you soakin’ before I go in,” His words are muffled against her flesh, the vibrations sending shivers through her body as he continues to eat her out recklessly. But she’s wet, so wet that she couldn’t have been more ready. He could tell she’s holding back, moans soft, tiny. He needed a symphony.
His tip is nudging in between her folds, feeling heavy even on the outside of her pussy. It makes her adjust her body as he holds her down with one palm, keeping her body arched to perfection. She then knocks her head to the side, eyes locked into his as she watches him—it was like all time had slowed. 
Her wet folds spread apart as her walls began molding around his tip, gripping the flesh and pulling him in inch by inch. Her walls feel swollen, aching as he goes in, fluttering before gripping back around the weight of his girth. She was entirely full, so full that she looked back at him with a pout, whimpering as her back arched through the discomfort, dragging herself forward to pull away. He somehow manages to catch a lock of her hair as he grunts, “Don’t do all that, you better take this fuckin’ dick like you was before,” which makes her deeply gasp, trembling out a whine as his balls slap along her clit, ass clapping along his hips as he’s fully inside. He pulls halfway out before he sinks back in again, a waft of air pushing out her pussy, making a loud squelching sound as her eyes roll to the back of her head, “Oh fuck, Ony…”
“Keep that fuckin’ arch,” he grunts, her inner walls squeezing him like a vice, “I’m stretching your shit, huh? I know, Mama," He taunts, pulling her back again, another gust of air spouting out, her pussy sobbing at this point. 
It’s dripping all against his balls, she’s wetter than she’s ever been. He begins dropping her down onto his dick slowly, but his thrusts are hard, each stroke hitting her g-spot dead-on as he pounds her mercilessly.
Her mouth is parted open yet nothing comes out for a while, just feeling the pained-pleasure that vibrates her entire body. It feels good, so fucking good that she’s practically paralyzed—and they’d only just started. 
She finally has enough oxygen within her chest to be vocal, her hair falling in front of her face with each stroke, pouting even more as she breathily pants, “All in my pussy, baby…” she doesn’t know where that sentence comes from, but it’s needy, as if she meant every word—She did. 
He keeps up that exact pace as her walls tighten second by second, slowly pounding as her needy plea hangs heavy in the air. 
“Yeah?" He coos, slapping her ass to gain her attention—even if he already had it, “You’ feeling that shit, huh?”
She tries to stop her eyes from rolling back each time her skin sticks to his, the sound in the room like a gunshot going off every few seconds. She sinks her teeth back into her lip as she nods her head, the agreement dragging itself in a prolonged harmony, turning into a chaotic moan of, “I feel you, Ony…I feel it…”
Onyankopon grins sexily like the bastard he is at her submission, seeing the raw vulnerability in her expression. He’s pulling almost all the way out before slamming back in, his balls smacking her clit with each brutal thrust. 
He can feel her walls becoming extremely tight, her whines growing louder—he’s starting to learn her body. He releases her hands which allows her to drop them onto the sheets, reaching around to clutch his fingers in between her throat and jaw. He’s picking up the rhythm of his hips, the comparison of gunshots sounding off as if he’d added more magazines, faster, harder.
“Open my pussy up,” he grunts, “You ain’t finna’ cum and be done. Better wait for me.”
But she can’t wait. Between the sound of his voice, the way her ass just drops, drops, drops to meet his dick, her tongue nearly lolls out, drooling as she can feel herself being fucked stupid. Her mind has never been so blank, which makes the words that come out so air-head like, she’s babbling.
“I’m cumming,” she whimpers with a gasp, still being dropped down all the while, turning her head back to face him, tears falling from her eyes in such a rush of pleasure. She has a death grip against the sheets, clawing with her nails as she whines, “I love you, Onyyy… I’m cumming…”
Her walls are fluttering like crazy—Onyankopon’s eyes drop down to see a beautiful coat of white being painted more and more on his dick each time he pulls back out, the arousal splatting against her skin with each stroke. 
“You love me, Mama?” He tightens his fingers on her throat, her orgasm spinning her in circles as she trembles, “Mhmmmm.”
“That’s why you creamin’ on my shit like that? Cause you love me?”
She softly cries, “Cause I love you,” her entire body shuddering, eyes white as they’re in the back of her head.
He tightens his hold on her throat further, cutting off some of her airflow. The pressure causes her climax to prolong, her pussy spasming wildly around his dick.
"Love me so much you drenchin' my dick?" He growls, watching the thick stream of her juices coating his shaft, "You gon’ milk my nut dry?”
“Yeah,” she sniffles, “Yes, baby…”
“Come bounce on this dick. That’s how you’ finna cum again.”
She could’ve collapsed at this moment, her body exhausted—he’s pulling her onto his lap, placing her feet flat against the bed, arching her hips up as he’s already sinking her back down. He intertwines their fingers together to hold her up, rocking his hips up for her to catch the rhythm he wants. She’s a whimpering mess as she complies, swirling her hips down, grinding herself in a sloppy choreography.
He takes advantage of her vulnerable state, gripping her hips tightly as he begins pounding up into her. Each thrust sends her breasts bouncing and her ass jiggling.
"You' cummin' again," He growls, his own release beginning to build, “Keep riding my shit like that.”
He's not wrong, her pussy is clamping down on him like a trap, and her entire body is in complete shambles.
She places her hands along his chest, running her fingers across his tattoos as she leans herself forward, rocking her hips down, bouncing just like he wanted—of course, her curls fall on her face, the annoying habit of having to blow them out the way pulls a low chuckle from Onyankopon.
 She whimpers to him, “Don’t laugh, Ony…”
His chuckle subsides as quickly as it came, his expression turning serious once more. He grips her hips tighter, his strokes becoming harder and faster. She’s louder, attempting to keep up with him. 
"Don't worry 'bout nothin', Mama. Just ride my dick," He commands, his breathing heavy and labored. Seeing her above him, hair cascaded along her freckled face, her soft sounds—she’s so pretty to him.
Onyankopon’s arms wrap along her lower back as he sits up beneath her, guiding her hips down to connect with his.  She pulls him into a kiss, holding his face to consume his affection, her face splashed with previous pleasured tears,  whispering to him in a tiny gasp, “I—I love you s—somuch, O—Ony…”
His entire body was sensitive to every one of her touches. Feeling like a teenager all over again while they make out, he grunts her name against their mouths, “Alana…” 
He feels how easily she moves her hips, rolling them in sync with his movements to send waves of pleasure through them, groaning between their hot kisses, “I love you…fuck…I do…”
She wraps her arms around his neck as she presses her face into his shoulder, nails digging against his skin as she gasps, “I’m—mmph, I—“ she’s gasping, unable to finish as pleasure raptures her entire body again, all the way down to her feet, muscles aching from the constriction.
She’s tight—he can feel every inch of her warmth as he groans in response to the arch of her back, “Goddamn…” 
His hands travel down her body until they’re both on her hips, guiding them as he bucks up into her, slowly moving her in the same motion, “…Take your time, baby. I’m finna’ bust…You’ cumming?”
She hiccups, nodding her head feverishly as she holds onto him, dragging her fingers up to his head as she grips there, moaning in a high pitched way as she warns, “I’m c—cumming,” closing her eyes as she brings her hips down faster, “O—oh my god—agh…”
Her voice makes his eyes roll back into his head as he holds onto her hips, bucking his own up more to help her reach the peak, “Shit, I ain’ never wanted be nowhere but right here with you. I’m finna’ bust, baby, I—ohhh…f-fuck, Pea…I love you...so much,” his words are broken into short moans as he holds onto her, pulling her as close as they both release together, a symphony of affection turning into an orchestra, filled with emotions they’d had for one another all along.
She keeps her face within his shoulder as she breathes heavily, still holding onto him as her orgasm subsides. The moment her eyes do come up, she can see the last thing she wanted to envision—that damn smirk on his mouth. 
She presses her face into his chest as she grumbles, “Don’t, Onyankopon. I swear to god.”
He grunts as her head presses against him, but a smirk appears all the same, chuckling under his breath as he reaches up to scratch at her scalp. 
“Pussy is good as fuck,” he huffs, Sweetpea jumping as she feels his palm slam down on her ass.
She brings her eyes up, “You could’ve said something romantic—yet that’s what you say.”
“I’ll let you hear them’ three words a thousand more times before the nights over, crybaby.”
She pulls herself off of him as she lays against the bed, pressing herself against the pillow as she feels her eyes becoming heavy. Her hair brushes over her face, uncaring of her body being bare under the night light as she sighs, “Mmm, shut up. Lemme’ sleep.” 
She can hear him shuffling before his weight comes off of the bed, her body not moving as she mutters, “You’ leaving me? Was all that a lie and you really don’t wanna be with me?”
He’s standing over her, watching the way her body just seems to fit against the sheets effortlessly, her curves like an invitation to come back onto the bed with her. 
“Damn, a nigga can’t move without you thinking I’m tryna’ leave? I’m hungry.”
She smacks her lips, turning her face over to meet the wall as she grumbles, “Whatever, lyin’ ass. Get out.”
“I guess that means you don’t want tacos then.”
Her eyes peek open at that. She turns her head a bit as she says, “Them’ birria tacos from the corner?”
“And horchata.”
“Nevermind—You’ cool…or whatever.”
“You gon’ have that ass tooted up for me when I get back?”
“Onyankopon?”
“Huh?”
“Get the fuck out.”
His smirk reappears before he shuts the door behind himself, “Love you too, Mama.”
1K notes · View notes
rimunagenius · 9 months ago
Text
It’s Time You Switch
ʚ pairing: Paige Bueckers x reader
ʚ word count: 4.4k words
ʚ prompt: “Fuck your boyfriend, he a bitch. I think it’s time you switch.”
ʚ warnings: RPF!! , smut!!, voyeurism, dirty talk?, face riding, fingering, oral reader!receiving, basically porn with little plot
ʚ rimunagenius speaks: in which Paige turns straight girls ;) i have not written smut since my wattpad era so im sooo insanely rusty but i also have never felt the touch of a woman romantically sooo idek if this will be any good…suggestions are welcome to make it better!! and for future works!!
| Masterlist | Women’s Basketball Masterlist |
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"I don't know what I did to him, though. That's what I can't let go. He's being so dry and cold." You told the team as you did dynamic warm up before practice started.
Coach G just shook his head, listening to all your guy problems. This was just another boy for him to hate on campus. At this rate, the whole male and female population at UConn was on his shit list.
"I say, you dump him." KK said, patting your back mid walking lunge. "He's been doing this for months now, it's time to drop him, girl boo.” You told KK a lot of things. She was just a freshman but she become a quick and good friend.
You met her in a class you had been taking and started talking, soon finding out you were both on the same team. It shocked her, but after finding out you stayed off social media, the press release of her committing was new news. You were a senior and she was a freshman, but this friendship was like you two knew eachother forever.
"Yeah, I agree with K." Paige said, from the other side of you. A soft, comforting smile on her face.
"You know what could fix this? A girls night." Aaliyah smiled, her eyebrows wiggling suggesting you guys go out.
"I know you're not planning to go out, get drunk on the night before a game." Coach yelled from his seat on the bench.
"But Coach, c'mon! My girls feeling sad." Paige feigned a pout, grabbing your shoulders and pointing your face, you pouting your lips and batting your lashes.
"Nah, it's okay. I don't really want to go out anyways. Staying in is the move." You sighed, the stretching finished.
You talked about it all practice—sad about it all practice. After, Paige suggested you come over to her place, a sleepover. You begrudgingly agreed. Telling her she needed to take you home to get some clothes; Paige shutting it down because you could borrow hers.
That was the first mistake. It didn't feel like a mistake in the end but that was the first step to a very confusing day afterwards. The second, sharing a bed with the blonde.
You both decided to lay in her bed, get fat on snacks, and watch all the movies you could before getting sleepy and tapping out for the night. I guess Paige had another tapping in mind.
"You know he doesn't deserve you so why do you stay with him?" Paige disregarded the movie, turning her head slightly to look at you.
"He does deserve me, he's just struggling, I guess." You shrugged your shoulders, dwelling on the fact that you couldn't figure out what he was actually struggling with.
"Fuck your boyfriend. He's a bitch for the way he's acting with a pretty girl like you." Paige got passionate about defending her friends. Especially when someone in their life wasn't treating them right. She was more of a protector. A fierce one.
"Paige, that's a little mean."
"It's true. It's time you switched. I'm telling you, girls are so much less complicated. They're easier to read and better at communicating." Paige smirked to you, knowing you wouldn't shoot for it.
"Please, if I knew how, I would." You rolled your eyes, looking down, shoving a potato chip in your mouth.
Paige's eyes went wide. There's no way you were actually serious. You looked like the straightest of straight girls, a very attractive one. Which is why she thought it sucked you didn't swing that way. "No way, are you serious?" She laughed.
"Yeah, but I dont even think I like girls like that." You furrowed your brows. You never actually thought about it. You had no idea if the "girl crushes" you had were actually crushes.
"What does that mean?"
"Like, I've seen girls and thought they were super attractive. I'd wonder what it'd be like to kiss them, and I used to say i’d treat them better than their actual boyfriends, but I didn't think that far." That set it off for Paige. That's how it started. First you thought about what it'd be like to kiss a girl, then to date, and then to fuck.
"Have you ever thought about dating them?" Paige already knew where this was going.
"Yeah sort of. But I was always with him that it was whatever." You looked to Paige.
"Well it's time you switch." She smiled smugly at you, shrugging her shoulders. "I'm down to show you how." That was the most forward Paige had ever been with a girl. She knew it was swaying you, the contemplation clouding your vision, deep in thought.
"What do you mean 'show me'? Like how to fuck?" Your brows furrowed as you questioned the blonde beside you.
"That's exactly what I mean..." Paige's eyes watched yours, waiting for the green light.
"Okay." Suddenly the air in your lungs disappeared when Paige grabbed your face and kissed you deeply. She wanted this for so long. You and her had been bestfriends all throughout your childhood. She had even told Geno he couldn't give her an offer without giving you one. Your skills in basketball were exceptional, your work ethic and athleticism and ability to work with people around you. You and Paige made a great team.
She had admired everything about you for as long as she could remember. She was just waiting on you. You moaned into the kiss, opening your legs so she could slot her body between yours, achieving the best angle to kiss you.
Something in you felt like this was all muscle memory. Like you two have done this before. Her hands moved to your hips, her grip firm but so soft. You two kicking the snacks off the bed, not caring about the mess that was to be made.
"Imma take your clothes off...that okay?" Paige's lips trailed down the collumn of your neck, moaning at the sensation your body sparked throughout her body.
"Yeah, okay. Please." Instantaneously Paige's fingers dropped the the waistband of your pajama shorts, and the waistband of your underwear. The feeling of lace pulling a groan from the blondes throat. Ridding you of your pants and underwear, her hand grabbed the hem of your shirt—her shirt, sliding it up.
You sat up, pulling it off, panting softly. You couldn't believe this was happening. The least you expected from this sleepover was hooking up with your bestfriend, in her bed, on a friday night. You then grabbed Paige's face, needing her lips on yours like you were a woman starved.
Paige was a sweetheart; a golden retriever, kind, and good person...but when it came to her game, on and off the court, she was literally a cocky fuck boy who could prove they could get into your pants. She was a respectful woman, one of the best even, but the second mutual interest was involved; game over.
While making out, her hand cupping your breast over the padding of your bra, the only clothing you seemed to have on left, she bit your bottom lip, slightly tugging on it with her teeth. Your back arched, moaning at the sensation she was able to wash your body in, she quickly unclasped your bra, sliding the straps off when you were flat on your back.
Having the soft skin of yours exposed, she slowed her movements, dodging your face when you tried to kiss her again. "Show me how he got you off." The sentence shocked you.
"Huh?" You looked at her, her eyes having the same challenging look. She knew she'd do ten times better than he ever could. Plus, it helped that her anatomy and your anatomy were the same...meaning, she knew where everything was.
"You heard me, show me what he did for you, so I can show you that I can do it better." Her long hair falling on her shoulders, she slid her Huskies t-shirt off, leaving her in a black sports bra.
You shifted on the bed, nervous but willing. She already had you naked, you were already so wet so you knew when you try and fail to get yourself off like how your ex did, she'd make it better. Paige always made it better.
You reached your hand down, sliding your fingers through your soaking wet cunt, gathering as much as your slick as possible, gasping softly. The feeling of your fingers ghosting your clit, you remembered that you were supposed to be doing this how he did, so you disregarded the spot your body ached and pleaded for physical contact, and jumped straight to inserting two fingers.
You looked at Paige, a look in her eyes you've never seen before. "Wait, he didn't even—?" She was confused but really focused nonetheless. You knew she wasn't really paying attention to what you were doing, she was; she was literally getting soaked at watching you play with yourself, but she just couldn't take her eyes off your pretty pussy. She would never be your 'friend' again after tonight.
You shook your head at her question and continued in fingering your self, curling your fingers at the right spots, maintaining the even yet somewhat hasty pace. Your panting started to get louder, your eyes fluttering closed every now and again. Slowly coaxing yourself to your high, you spread your legs wider, reaching your hand out, signaling Paige you wanted her to grab your hand.
She placed her hand in yours and she was immediately pulled on top of you, your mouth finding hers. Your hand never wavered in the work you were doing on yourself, which is why Paige swallowed the loud moan induced by your orgasm, as you slowly started to slow the rhythm of your fingers, riding out the small orgasm.
You don't know why you did it, you only were conscious of it after you had placed the fingers that were previously inside of you, into her mouth. Your jaw slack, jus a tiny bit, watching and feeling her lick your fingers, swallowing any trace of your she can hope to find. You couldn’t believe you were behaving like this. So dirty but so willing.
Paige moaned at the action, not trying to deny that what you had done could've made her come alone. She started to drag her lips from yours, to the corner of your lips, to your cheek, all the way to and down your neck, sloppy and lazy but sensual kisses were left in her wake.
She wouldn't dare leave any marks behind, your guys' team would calculate what went down her tonight. So she settled for non-visible hickeys. When her lips met your breasts, she took her sweet time with both. Her tongue swirling around your taught nipple, her free hand kneeding the other.
Your back was already arching off the bed, hands tugging at the sheets below you. The soft cries leaving your lips egging her on.
She moved across the other breast, a trail of purple and red trailing the way, her hand switched places. You couldn't take this...you needed her somewhere else. You loved this but holy was she dragging it out.
Before you could even ask—beg, her to move where you were so desperately wanting her, her hand was already spreading your leg open, lips following a foreign, yet so familiar path, all the way down to the curve of your thighs.
She started slowly, opting to tease you, but also educate you like she promised. You understood the significance of foreplay, hell you craved it in your evidently clear soon to be previous relationship, but you couldn't take the ache your pussy had for Paige. It's like it knew you needed her all along. It didn't help that you hated the prolonged attention, but also loved it. Watching her worship your body was something so unexplainably attractive.
The way she slowly placed soft kisses from your knees, massaging the soft skin of your calf's along the way, all the way up your thigh. The closer her lips got to your center, the more antsy you became. You needed her mouth to connect already. You couldn't take it anymore.
"Oh, my god. Paige...please." You sighed, your panting growing more and more viscous.
"Please what, gorgeous?" Her lips ghosted over your wet folds as she moved to the other leg, now blatantly teasing the fuck out of you, while she smiled and kissed every expanse she could.
"Please just eat my pussy already. I can't take it." You almost cried begging her to finally do something. She had you masturbate infront of her for christ sake.
"Whatever you want." She looked into your eyes, her pupils blown, a blissed out smile and haze on her face. Almost immediately after, her face disappeared in between your legs. Paige licked a stripe up your soaking cunt, from the entrance all the way to the most sensitive nerve ending.
The sound that escaped your mouth was borderline pornographic as the built up arousal finally was being tended to. The feeling of her slick tongue running one more stripe through your folds before swirling around your clit was something you absolutely could not imagine. Your mind in a foggy mess.
"You taste so sweet, baby." The name leaving her mouth ignited fuzziness that you felt in your toes all the way to your scalp. Her voice hoarse, mouth glistening from you, you could never get this sight out of your head; nor did you want to.
"Ohhhh, my god." It came out like a pure cry. The choked moans mixed with tears and strained sobs, elicited a newfound hunger in Paige.
Her mouth doing double time, her tongue swirling and licking perfectly paced, her lips sucking and kissing all the right places at the right time, started to build up the coil in your belly. The feeling growing more and more intense the more she praised you from between your legs. "You're doing so good for me, baby." You couldn't even breathe.
The coil snapping, the tension in your belly now releasing, a gushing mess now painted Paige's gorgeous face, your mouth agape.
You couldn't help but scream...almost. Your moan so loud, Paige covered your mouth with her hand. "Shh, don't want the neighbors to hear." Paige panted softly in your ear, before cracking the signature smirk.
The smugness she had while she saw the aftermath of what seemed to be the best orgasm you have ever had in your life. Your breathing still shallow, your chest heaving, the pattern of the way it rises and falls mesmerizes Paige. Her ego being fed tremendously watching the way you fell apart just by her going down on you.
She couldn't help but want to brag to your ex that he couldn't even make you feel half of what she just did. The accomplishment of getting you to look like this in her bed, your breath fanning over her face as she hovered over you, the accomplishment in having you like this, with her in her bed, was truly a miracle.
Paige loved it. She could go this whole night just fulfilling your needs, showing you everything you missed out on in your pointless one sided relationship. She intended to.
"Oh, my god. That was—" You stopped, your breath finally returning. "That was fucking amazing." You looked at the blonde who seemed to be content watching you fall apart.
The smugness on her face but the adoration of you being here, pure evidence that she was enjoying every second of it. "It was. Didn't know you were a screamer." The cocky Paige returned, forgetting keeping the moment remotely intimate. You smacked her arm that rested next to your body, and grabbed her face and kissed her.
You caught her off guard, her mouth open due to a small gasp, and took that as your chance to slide your tongue in her mouth. You two made out like horny teenagers. You two weren't that far from being teenagers, that was only a couple years ago, but you two made eachother feel like two young kids, absolutely enamored with the idea of each other that you couldn't get off of eachother.
You two made out, you slowly turning yourself so you could be on top. Paige knew what you were trying to do, allowing you to take control for now. You oulled apart, looking down at her, picturing this, saving it for the foreseeable future. Chasing your lips, Paige grabbed your face, pulling you into a deepening kiss. You two literally couldn't get enough of eachother.
Before you could even get the rest of Paige's clothes off, she grabbed your hips that were resting on hers, and pulled them forcefully over towards her chest. You gasped and yelped, suprised at the sudden force she was using. Hesitant to follow, you saw her hungry gaze go between your eyes and your now—again, soaking cunt.
There was no way. "Paige, no. Don't even think about it." You warned, a small intimidating look. It normally had an affect on Paige on the court, knowing when she saw it, you talked a big game and backed it up. But right now, in the bedroom, you were hers and she had the control.
Tonight was to show you what you were missing out on, and how to get a girl going. There was no way she'd let you have the control, no matter how much she wanted it. She'd save that for another night. Maybe she was getting too ahead of herself, but there was going to be another night with you.
"What are you talking about?" The smugness returned, along with a feigned clueless look. You couldn't take her serious with the fact that your thighs were damn near putting her in a chokehold, her hands inching you closer and closer to where she wanted you...where she wanted you to sit, preferably.
"Paige, i'm not about to sit on your face." You tried scooting back, forgetting that Paige was actually stronger than you. The ferocity in which she pulled your hips, your pussy ghosting her lips at the force and aim in which she yanked you, a small gasp escaped your sealed lips.
You yanked your hips back, giving her a pointed look. "I was trying to literally fuck you, not trying to sit on your face. Let me make you feel good, baby." Paige knew she could get away with calling you baby, you probably weren't thinking much of it when she said it. But Paige said it with conviction, just the way you did right now.
The name only egged her on when you used it in this context. The only context Paige wanted to hear it in. "Your making me feel good by letting me make you feel good. I promise i'm fine, I just want you to sit this pretty pussy on my face. Will you let me?" Her eyes sincere, the smirk playing on her lips slowly convincing you by the second.
"You promise?" You whispered, suddenly conforming to the blonde underneath you. Something about the way she talked easily convinced you.
"Yeah. Promise." You stared down at her, unsure. Not wanting to crush her, your thighs being pretty full, the muscle you've built over the years, and just the general size being something you've been insecure about since you were a little girl.  She knew that.
That's why when she saw the look on your face, she kissed your thighs. In whatever spot she could reach. She gave you a reassuring nod, smile on her face. Albeit you didn't know what kind—cocky or comforting. Either way, when she said what she did, you immediately obeyed.
"Sit on my face." You then moved both knees eye level with Paige, falling back slightly, your pussy ghosting her lips again. The second you put your full weight on her face, her mouth got to work.
The sensation and new angle elicited some explicit sounds. 'Didn't know you were a screamer' kept replaying in your head when you tried to quiet down the moans only Piage seemed to be able to pull from you, escaped your lips.
Her hands cupped your ass, pressing your body down impossibly closer and harder into her face. She seemed to be pushing so hard, you were scared you were going to suffocate her. Her tongue teased your entrance, swiftly ghosting in and out of it, before lapping at your folds and clit perfectly.
She ate you like a woman starved. Like if this was her last meal. You had enjoyed every second of this exchange. You reached your hand down slowly, softly moving your hand in slow circles on your clit, overstimulating yourself.
Paige took notice of your fingers now getting to work, a gravely groan reverberating into your wet pussy as she looked up at you, and quickly closing her eyes in bliss. She decided that since you wanted to touch yourself, she'd slide a finger or two into you. To really get you going. Wasn’t the most ideal positioning but she was going to make it work.
Her head bobbed subtly, effectively getting her tongue into the small space where her fingers were about to make an appearance. Inserting one finger, Paige watched, felt, and listened to the way your body reacted to her movements.
Using each reaction to her advantage. The small gasp you let out when she inserted herself into you, the way your breathing reluctantly changed pace, so she inserted another, noticing how your breath picked up. That's when she curled her fingers methodically to the pace she set for herself, matching the pace you set while you continued rubbing circles in your clit.
It didn't take long for Paige to brung you closer to the edge while her tongue picked up the slack for your fingers. You stopped your movements and let her do the work, she could tell it was good by the volume your pants and moans were sounding. She was working overtime while you ran your hand over her hair, eventually looking for another anchor to grip to while you violently come undone by your best friend. "Oh, my god. Right there. Don't stop." You panted, your jaw dropped.
Your legs started to shake, Paige's pace relentless while she finger fucked you in her bed, while she simultaneously ate you out. This wasn't the way you expected to spend your night, and neither did Paige, but holy fuck was it worth it.
"Don't you dare stop—Oh!" The coil snapped once again, a guttural cry and moan left your lips. You swore that any person who was passing by Paige's apartment would've thought you were filming porn. The moans you moaned were insane and absolutely the biggest turn on for Paige. She wouldn't lie and say she didn't already get off on just hearing you.
Yeah, she worked at you, and saw your oh so pretty parts, but listening to the affect she had on you, the comparison made between her and your ex and the ego boost that came with it, were just the perfect amount to get her off on just pleasuring you for the last two hours.
Your breath uneven, slowly moving your legs away from her face, your chest still heaving. She chuckled softly, before looking over to you, while you laid yourself next to her. "That's how it's done, baby." Paige held her hand up, trying to signal a high five.
You looked at her blankly, her seeing the absolute fucked our face you had, and then pulled you closer to her. Your body resting against hers; the stark contrast of your overheated body, compared to her cold and cool body.
The contrast easing the overwhelmed feeling you harbored just a little easier. "You did so good for me, baby. You looked so hot while I made you come. Couldn't believe it." You smacked her chest, feeling a little cringed that she had to see you and all the faces you could've made while you had the most earth shattering orgasms.
"Paige. Oh my god, stop." You laughed, she did too, You two laid there for a minute before she broke the silence.
"You're not going back to him, right?" Her voice now withdrawn from the cockiness and confident undertones, and just pure nerves and concern. She hoped you'd say no. That you'd choose to stay with her, and tell her he was just there until you realized your feelings for her were the same as the ones she's had for you all these years.
"No, I'm breaking up with him tomorrow. You think i'd go back to him, when he couldn't do half the shit you did with your tongue alone? Yeah, right." You looked up at Paige, your bestfriend. You couldn't believe this is what your relationship evolved to in a matter of two hours.
"Soo, that means..." Paige was hopeful. She just wanted you to say what she's been wanting to say for years.
"Let's date. I love you, you obviously love me," She looked away, embarrassed, and playfully pushed you away. You grabbed her arm, pulling her back so she could look you in the eyes. "Do you want to be my girlfriend? Serious."
"Serious. I'll be your girlfriend. Finally." Paige kissed you, slowly. Melting into eachother, the weight of the new relationship status now sinking in. You two were ecstatic.
You decided to clean up, showering, again, her inevitably joining you. When you both settled and were ready for bed. Too tired and fucked out to continue the movie—restart the movie—you two had started a while ago, it was quiet and dark in the room when Paige suddenly whispered, "I knew you weren't straight."
"Paige, got to sleep! Oh my god." You chuckled before smacking her with the pillow under your head.
"Jeez! Sorry! But I called it."
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themultifanshipper · 18 days ago
Note
okay... hear me out, friends to lovers with franco.. but a little more ✨spicy✨
you meet at a party of a mutual friend after a few friendly encounters before and at somepoint the conversation shifts to sexual experience. reader gets some kinks exposed and franco is very intrigued by that, suggesting he's very interested in exploring those kinks and more with them👀
You'd met Franco a few times, through mutual friends. And every single time there was a spark.  
Tonight was no different.  
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Warnings: discussion around lots of kinks, smut, choking, restraints, mirror sex, recording, as usual too many petnames, sort of edging?, multiple orgasms, kinda unhinged at the end, Franco is a flirt and a tease, alcohol, friends to lovers I guess although the lovers part isn't really discussed  
Each time you came into contact with each other, your friends would roll their eyes at the shameless flirting. 
But every time it fizzled out when the evening ended and you would both go your separate ways with a shake of the hand and a “it's been a pleasure”. 
Tonight Franco was determined to not let you go that easily. 
He had a plan. Which was basically, go in early, and go in hard. 
So to speak. 
Very early on, he’d made you take a few shots with him to loosen you both up, then all but dragged you over to a couch to plant you on his lap. 
“Let’s talk” he said, grabbing a large glass of something you both could share as you yapped. 
And yap you did, about anything and everything, for hours. 
His hands wandered over your bare thighs and you kept slapping them away, giggling about how you were in public. But he could see the blush creep onto your cheeks every time, he could see how much you were definitely tempted. 
He just needed to find a way to make you give in to temptation. 
Ideas trotted around his brain, until one of your mutual, and very drunk at this point, friends came over and begged you to play a game of ‘never have I ever’. 
You and Franco rolled your eyes at the childish suggestion, but followed, and somehow ended up on opposite sides of the circle on the floor of the large living room. 
You all had glasses at varying degrees of fullness while the questions remained mild. 
Then it was your best friend’s turn, and she nudged your side cheekily, looking straight at Franco when she said “Never have I ever... had sex in a car”  
Franco’s eyes narrowed at her as he took a sip, and everyone cheered loudly at him. A couple of others in the circle followed and took sips of their own drinks. 
He looked at you and you giggled at him. “You haven’t?” he mouthed over the noise and you shook your head. 
He shrugged with a shy smile and the game moved on. 
Until your same best friend, obviously trying to achieve something with her questions, asked a question obviously aimed at you, this time. 
“Never have I ever had sex in front of a mirror!” 
She looked excessively proud of herself, and you huffed and took a sip, glancing at Franco, who did not drink but was looking at you with a raised eyebrow. 
You winked and shrugged at him, turning to your friend who looked slightly dissapointed. 
“What are you trying to do mate?” 
She giggled. “I’m playing a game with Gaby!” she motioned to Franco’s friend, sitting a few spaces to your right “First one who manages to find something that you and Franco have both done, wins” 
You scoffed at their ridiculous antics. “Jesus, you two are unbelievable” 
The game continued, your friends finding increasingly ridiculous things to say. 
“Face time sex!” (you drank to that one) 
“Choking!” (you both drank and Gaby cheered) 
“Anal!” and Franco drank hesitantly, but when someone asked “giving or recieving?” he blushed and quickly changed the subject. 
As the questions went on, you noticed a trend. You were drinking at almost every single one, and Franco... well he was getting increasingly flustered every time he noticed you take a sip. 
So far he’d learned you liked dirty talk, mirrors, spanking,  being filmed (his dick twitched at that one), and your favourite position was bent over (it apparently didn’t matter what). 
Gaby shrugged, apparently out of ideas of dirty things to say and most of the others seemed to have given up, so the game ended and you got up to get more drinks from the kitchen. 
Franco followed eagerly, ignoring the knowing looks from his peers. 
“Any other kinks I should know about?” he sidled up to you, leaning an arm on the counter. 
“I don’t know why you should know about any of my kinks, frankly” you feigned nonchalance by taking another gulp of your drink and looking away. But the façade crumbled when you choked in response to his next words. 
“I want to know what you like.” he purred, leaning in closer to your ear “I want to know everything about you, and that includes how to please you” 
You were blushing furiously. How dare he be so smooth. 
“After tonight you know more than enough, don’t you think?” your breath hitched when one of his hands brushed your exposed thigh. 
“Aaah, come on” he groaned “there has to be something else, something you haven’t said yet”  
His face was inches from yours, your breaths mingling as the tension in the kitchen rose to unbearable levels. 
“I’ll tell you what.” you gulped, mesmerised by his eyes boring into yours “if you’re still interested when you’re sober, come over to my place and I’ll show you” 
His pupils dilated and he licked his lips as he took in your words.  
“Okay” he said simply. 
But neither of you made any effort to move away from each other, in fact, you could swear he was getting closer. 
His eyes flicked to your lips briefly, he was breathing hard and his brows were furrowed together in slight frustration. 
“Can I at least kiss you?” he whispered and the slight nod you responded with was enough for him to crash his lips to yours. 
It was desperate and messy, but terribly satisfying as you both felt months of tension finally snapping and becoming something real. 
Reflecting back on it the next day, you barely remembered it, and you definitely didn’t remember the offer you made him. 
Several aspirins and a shower had done the trick to avoid a hangover, but your memories didn’t really come back as you went about your day. 
It wasn’t until the evening, and you were just about ready to order take out, when you recieved a text. 
“Can I come over now? I’m sober ;)" 
You gasped as last night’s conversation came back to you in pieces, and your fingers typed out a response before your brain even had a chance to think of something less desperate. 
“Was about to order food, but I’m sure you’ll taste better” 
He saw the message, and you waited several minutes, but the reply never came. 
You started getting worried so you sent another. 
“Franco?”  
He saw it immediately, and the answer came soon after. 
“Cant type driving” 
You laughed at his eagerness and sat down on your couch, scrolling through your phone while you waited. 
It felt like an eternity before you heard the screech of tyres sliding on the road, and you instinctively knew it was him. 
Your suspicions were confirmed when he rapped on your door with enough force to definitely warrant you checking for damage to his knuckles. 
You opened the door for him and he was about to step forward immediately, but he froze mid-step and his breath hitched when his eyes fell on you. 
You frowned at him gaping at you and looked down at yourself. 
“What- what’s the matter?” 
His gaze softened and he stepped closer to you, lifting you up by your thighs and kicking the door shut behind him as he carried you inside. 
“I have never seen you without makeup...” he muttered, and you blushed at the realisation.  
“Oh... uhmm” you squirmed but his hold tightened on your body, holding you up with his impressive strength, unmoving in the middle of your messy living room. But you were the only thing he was able to look at. 
 “You are so beautiful” he wasn’t exactly helping your blushing, but it was nice to be appreciated. 
“We would make the most beautiful babies” he muttered and you burst out laughing at the out of pocket comment. 
He chuckled at himself and let you down, but didn’t let go of his his hold on you. 
“You gonna stand there and look stupid or are you going to kiss me?” you asked and he gasped softly in mock offence, but did lean down to capture your lips in a gentle kiss. 
You could by the way he kissed you that there was a deep hunger inside him, and you were equally hungry for him, so the kiss quickly deepened as you pawed at each other. 
“Franco” you panted “The bedroom is that way” 
You pointed to the hallway and he nodded, picking you up again and carrying you all the way to your bed. 
He set you down, and kneeled on the floor between your legs. 
“You remember our conversation from yesterday?” 
You bit your lip “Yeah, why?” 
He smiled evilly. 
“Then you remember that you need to tell me another one of your kinks”  
You groaned, blushing at the memory. Right. 
“I uhh… I can't remember which ones you already know about…” 
He smiled and climbed onto the bed, caging you in underneath him. 
“Then tell me a few, and I'll tell you which ones I want to try” 
He leaned down to kiss you softly before sitting up, legs either side of your hips so that you couldn't squirm away and escape. 
Your blush was slowly deepening and Franco melted, seeing you so shy under him even though he knew you were filthy was really getting him going. 
“What is it, querida? Cat got your tongue?”  
He chuckled, trailing a hand up your body until it reached your neck, and he wrapped it around your throat. 
Your breath hitched and he smirked. 
“I seem to remember you liking this one. Tell me, what else is there?” 
You gulped, and he felt it under his hand, which turned him on even more for some reason. 
“Uhm… well I like it rough.” 
He smiled and leaned down to peck your cheek. 
“That's a start… anything more specific you want me to do to you?” he whispered in your ear and you shivered at his tone. 
“I like… being tied up. Restrained.”  
He hummed as he kissed down the skin of your neck. “Carry on” 
“I uhh… like being spanked” you said breathlessly “and also…” 
You turned your head to the side and he followed your gaze. 
To the left of your bed was a massive mirror. 
Your eyes met in the refection and he chuckled. 
“Ah yes I remember…” he looked back at you and you looked up at him “and I remember something about… filming?” 
You bit your lip and nodded. 
“Tell me about that” he muttered breathlessly. 
“Well, the idea that you'd find me appealing enough to want to record me- it turns me on. Like that you'd like it enough to want to be able to rewatch the moment whenever you want… I don't know it's silly I guess” 
You hid behind your hands, which was not the right thing to do because Franco caught your wrists and pressed them into the bed above your head. 
“You are beautiful enough to record, and I would be a lucky man to have proof of what I'm about to do to you.” He hovered menacingly, his irises black with desire “and if you feel the need to hide yourself, then I am definitely going to tie your arms behind your back.” 
You gasped and he crawled off the bed. “Now strip” 
You ended up naked, on his lap with his hands running up and down your body in an effort to drive you to the brink of madness. 
And it was working. 
He had indeed tied your hands behind your back, just for the fun of it, to give him a taste of what you would let him do to you in the future. 
His eyes drifted to the mirror, which you had your back to, while he was facing it, and he groaned at the image. 
“Mi vida” he pressed a kiss to your lips “Can I take a picture? You look so good on top of me like this”  
You glanced back at the mirror and smiled. 
“Of course”  
He grabbed his phone and snapped a quick picture before tossing it further up the bed, for later. 
His clothed cock was starting to hurt, so he made quick work of his boxers and poisitioned his tip at your entrance. 
“You ready?” he winked, and you nodded, sinking down on him, inch by glorious inch until you were fully seated on his lap. 
You moaned low in your throat. He felt so good inside you, so perfect, you had to take a few seconds to recompose yourself. 
He bounced you on his lap a few times and you whined loudly in response.  
You let out little cut off ahh, aah, ahh's on every bounce and you could feel him deep inside you. 
His hands were on your hips to steady you as he grinned like a devil, continuing his movements. 
It was overwhelming, your legs were already jelly so you couldn't control the pace, you were just a dead weight for him to use as he pleased while he watched your tits bounce as he pounded into you from below. 
You couldn't even use his chest to stabilise yourself given that your hands were tied, so you let him bounce you like a ragdoll, hoping that your loud cries wouldn't disturb the neighbours. 
Eventually he stopped bouncing you and just rolled his hips lazily, making sure to hit all those spots inside you that would drive you wild. 
Your legs trembled and you whimpered pathetically.  
“Franco… please, I'm so close” 
He cooed and bounced you a couple of times to tease you and you mewled at the stimulation. 
“What do you need, baby?” 
You looked down at him, grinding your hips in circles in search of friction. 
“I need you to touch me, please I can't do it with my hands tied” you whined, frustration evident in your voice. 
He chuckled meanly and rubbed his hands over your stomach, up to cup your tits and tease your nipples, with that devilish grin still on his face. 
“Francoooo…” you whined and he laughed, the movement making you bounce slightly. 
“What? You didn't tell me where to touch, you need to be more specific” 
You eyes shot daggers at him and he just laughed at you, one of his hands going up to hold your neck firmly in his grasp, while his hips continued their maddening grind. 
He squeezed, very briefly cutting off your air flow and you moaned. 
“Tell me” he teased “Where do you want me to touch you?” 
“My- my pussy, please Franco”  
His hips bucked involuntarily at your whiny voice. He didn't know he'd be so turned on by you submitting so completely to him. 
“I need to come, please touch me, please” you chanted like a prayer as you got closer to the edge, but you needed that little extra push that you couldn’t do yourself. 
“Here?” 
The hand that wasn't around your neck travelled south, and his thumb ghosted over your clit as you gasped “yes! Yes please, right there”  
Tears were threatening to fall down your cheeks as you got more desperate, and you looked so pathetic he gave in to your pleading. He used his thumb to rub circles on that tight bundle of nerves, and bounced you gently on his cock at the same time. 
You all but shrieked, as you curled over on yourself when your orgasm hit, it was so strong. 
Your whole body was clenching and shuddering as the intense pleasure washed over you in waves. 
Before you could slump over completely, Franco lifted you up and flipped you so that you could lie on the bed while you slowly regained the feeling in your limbs. 
“Jesus Christ, Franco” you sounded winded and he chuckled. 
“Oh I am not done with you yet” 
Your head whipped up, and indeed he was still hard, admiring you from above while stroked himself lazily. 
Your eyes widened and you realised the man in front of you was a tad more sadistic than you thought. 
He helped you get off the bed and kneel on the floor, this time facing the mirror. 
“Look at yourself. Look how beautiful you are” he muttered from behind you as he untied your hands. 
“Now bend over darling, but keep your eyes focused on the mirror while I fuck you” 
You whimpered, doing as you were told as you leaned on your elbows, arching your back so that you could look at what he was doing in the mirror. 
Thank god for carpeted floors, because you were going to be quite bruised at the end of this. 
He snatched his phone off the bed, opening the camera app and looked at you. 
“I would be a fool not to film this, you are so pretty and exposed like this” he ran a finger up the inside of your thigh, gathering the evidence of your previous orgasm and bringing it to his lips. 
He pushed his cock inside you in one swift move, making sure the camera picked up the way your cunt swallowed him in greedily. 
Every thrust echoed in the room because of how wet your thighs were, and it was only getting worse because with this angle, he was hitting your g-spot dead on. 
“Fuck!” you hissed, and Franco could tell you were having trouble keeping your head up, so his other hand came to tangle in your hair and pull it up himself. 
That made your back arch even more and the angle hit deeper inside you. 
He filmed the way your breaths were coming out fast and uneven as your lidded eyes stared at him through the reflection. 
Franco could feel himself getting close, so he flipped the camera and leaned over you to prop his phone up against the mirror. 
He wrapped his arms around you, one coming back up to hold you up by your neck, the other going down to circle your clit once again. In this position he could use the leverage to pound into you harder than ever, moans tumbling from you both freely. 
It was almost animalistic, they way he rutted into you, and all you could do was take it. 
Your eyes met in the mirror, and he leaned in to pant in your ear “Look at the camera when you come, baby. I want to see it” 
He kissed your cheek sweetly and the contrast in behaviour sent you barreling into your second orgasm, gushing around him as he bullied his cock into you as hard as he dared, and with the noises you were making, you were definitely going to get a complaint from the neighbours. 
It only took a few more thrusts for Franco to come inside you with a deep groan. 
He held you like that, both of you panting and coming down from your orgasms as you waited for your breathing to even out. 
“Please tell me you're done now” you panted. 
He chuckled and kissed your cheek again.  
“For tonight, yes” 
You gave him an unimpressed look while he pulled out and reached for his phone to turn the video off. 
“What? Did you not enjoy tonight?” he asked with a smirk. 
You rolled your eyes at him. 
“I think the wet spot on the carpet speaks for itself” 
He giggled, wrapping you in his arms and kissing you deeply. 
“Well, we will be making more wet spots tomorrow” he said cockily. 
You hummed and looked up at him mischievously, giving him a quick peck before making your way towards the bathroom for a well deserved shower. 
His gaze followed your movements questioningly. 
“I suppose we'll be seeing who exactly will be making the wet spots, you just wait!”  
You called out the next words from the bathroom, and he froze, remembering what he'd admitted to the night before. 
“Until I get the strap-on out!…” 
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bluem1lls · 27 days ago
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HEYY, I LOVE UR WRITINGG
i have an idea where thanos flirts with reader and immediately reject him, giving him a dirty look or just being rude to him. se-mi is around there so when reader sees her their entire expression changes, giving her a smile or something like that idk 😭
it doesn't have to be exact to that, just take the idea of u like it and use it however u want!!
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✦ content: short fluff, how you met your girlfriend at the game while rejecting her friend!
✦ authors note: thank you so much! i was just rewatching and i kept thinking about this idea so i wrote a short fluff, i hope you like it! thank you for your request♥️
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⋆。°✩ ever since the games started, you've been along player 120 and player 095. until the third game, where you lost them out of sight. as you heard "group of 5", you kept thinking that maybe this was your last round.
⋆。°✩ i mean there was nothing else to do.. right?
⋆。°✩ until a girl pulled your hand, and somehow you ended up in a room with a purple hair guy, his weird best friend, this girl and a guy who seemed to be her friend.
⋆。°✩ she leaned against the wall, catching her breath, crossing her arms on her chest while staring at you. she has nice piercings.
⋆。°✩ "well, well, well... look at what the wind brought us. a new friend" the purple haired guy spoke, looking at me. "i'm thanos, and who brought this pretty thing?"
you rolled my eyes, trying to copy the brunnete's position.
turning your head to look at her, her piercing gaze stays on you.
"thanks..."
"se-mi" she introduced herself.
"i thought i was about to die out there, thanks se-mi" i said to the girl.
she nodded, thano's best friend chuckled.
"we've been trying to get her name for days, but a pretty girl shows up and that's the first thing she tells her"
i snort as she rolls her eyes and scoffs, mumbling something that sounded like "idiot".
⋆。°✩ of course you couldn't stop talking to her after the third game ended.
⋆。°✩ eating with her, chatting and even laughing. it was easy to forget about everything when you were with her.
⋆。°✩ but sadly, you could never find her alone. if she didn't had min-su following her around, thanos and nam-gyu were teasing her. so that meant you always had to chat with them too, as you tried (really hard) to get her alone.
⋆。°✩ "doll face, came to hear your boy throwing a few lines?" thanos said getting closer to where me and se-mi were sitting down.
"oh my god" i covered my face as i hear her laughing. "i like talking to you so much, but i dont know if it's worth... this" i pointed at thanos.
she smiled, her arm sneaked to rest on my shoulders.
"it's worth every penny. althought you may wanna tell him that you're not really going for boys" she whispered in my ear. i softly laughed as i stare at her. she's so pretty. and her friends so annoying.
"prettiest girls in the planet, listen out, this one's for you-" thanos started.
"listen" i cut him mid-sentence. "you're such a fun, amazing guy" i said, standing up and placing my hands on his shoulder. "and i bet any girl would be so lucky dating you"
he nodded, proud of himself, as se-mi stared smirking.
"but i think there's something that would make you even a better person" i said looking at him, straight in the eyes. "leave to a corner and please let me have ten minutes alone so i can flirt with se-mi"
⋆。°✩ his expression quickly fell as se-mi and nam-gyu snorted.
"so im not about to be your boy-"
"you're not. i'm not into guys, thanos. but you're...so...nice"
⋆。°✩ he quickly understood. apparently. at least he went away along with his best friend. it was more than enough.
⋆。°✩ "so.. can we go back to the flirting part?" se-mi said, her smile never fading as she played with her lip piercing.
"yeah, i think we finally can" i said, dragging her to sit with me in one of the beds.
⋆。°✩ no need to clarify anything else. the guys understood when the next time they saw you, se-mi was hugging you from behind, resting her chin on your shoulder.
⋆。°✩ se-mi couldn't stop teasing thanos for falling for two times for two lesbians girls, which always ended up with him telling her how he'd release a rap called 'revenge is sweeter than girls' against her once they were out of here.
⋆。°✩ you believe him. you'll hear more about it once you're out of here, holding your girlfriend's hand.
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star-sim · 11 months ago
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boy's night ☆ riki nishimura
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☆ summary: riki had no game, no rizz, which was why he employed the help of his six friends to text you. warning: having seven boys on the phone trying to text a girl does not give good results! ☆ genre: fluff, all enhypen members make an appearance, boys being boys, very stupid, it's getting rizzy in here but clearly i have negative game ☆ warning(s)? no just silliness :3 ☆ word count: 1.7k words
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"Oh my god, she texted me!" was the sentence that completely destroyed Jake Sim's house.
Tonight, Riki was having a sleepover at Jake's house. It was supposed to be a chill night, a night in which Riki could bask in his friends' presence before they went off to college again.
There were many perks to being the youngest in his friend group. It seemed like Heeseung, Jay, and Jake forever saw him as their baby, after all, when they all met as children, Riki was a snotty little four year-old, constantly tattling on the older boys. Regardless, it was nearly impossible for them to not fuss over him, constantly asking if he ate yet or if he needed help. Sunghoon teased the ever-living shit out of Riki, sure, but the older boy never hesitated to take Riki's side whenever there was an argument. Sunoo and Jungwon were closest to Riki in age, but that didn't stop them from watching over him closely, like mother cats stalking their cubs.
Though, there was one thing that Riki had to admit that he hated about being the youngest: he was the most inexperienced.
Whenever his friends got their 'firsts,' he was always too young to care. It seemed like all his friends got to experience their first crushes and heartbreaks almost simultaneously, only for them to not be there when Riki had his.
Even when he was now a senior in high school, he had absolutely no idea how to talk to girls.
He'd heard all the stories about Heeseung and his antics at college, all the flirting tips that Jake liked to give out to Sunghoon and Jay, and all the crazed texts that Sunoo and Jungwon sent as they went through relationships.
Even so, Riki had never experienced teenage love for himself.
Enter: You.
You were the cute girl that sat in front of him in his Macroeconomics class. If it wasn't for the fact that Riki absolutely hated Macro, he would blame the fact that you were just so pretty that he couldn't bring himself to focus on the lecture about the New York Stock Exchange.
Initially, Riki had no intention of pursuing you.
You were cute, obviously, but hearing you talk to your partner in class was enough for him. Plus, it wasn't like Riki had any experience— even if he wanted to talk to you, he had no idea how to!
Except, thanks to his nosy friends, your name had been discussed what felt like a million times by the end of the week.
"So... [Name], eh?" was the first thing Sunghoon said as Riki's camera turned on during their weekly weekend FaceTime calls.
"This is so exciting, Riki," Heeseung said as he joined the call.
"Wait, how do you know her again?" Sunoo's voice cut in. "Sorry, my Wi-Fi is bad. You said you know her from Macro?"
With a little more prying, his friends managed to get a middle-school level confession out of Riki.
"I-I just think she's really pretty, and like, she's really smart," Riki huffed, "I don't think she likes me like that— I've never even spoken to her! Like, I can't talk to women, I straight up am a mess and the other day—oh my god— she looked at me and I think I almost passed out. What do I do? I actually cannot do thi—
".... But you think she's pretty, right?"
And that's how Riki managed to get your phone number. With the help of his friends (that felt more like them feeding into his delusions), he worked up the courage to stutter out a simple question.
And when you smiled, nodding enthusiastically as you typed your contact into his phone, Riki felt his soul leave his body.
So, it wasn’t hard to imagine the havoc that engulfed Jake Sim's house (the place of the sleepover) as Riki's phone pinged, your contact name showing up.
It was already late at night, so the boys were raiding Jake's pantry to get midnight snacks. 
The moment that Riki announced that you had just, in fact, texted him first, everyone stopped in their tracks.
"Oh shit!" Jay shouted as he jumped over Jake's sofa, bowl of cereal still in hand.
The sound of crashing as Heeseung knocked over the ramen cups, as well as cutlery dropping abruptly and cabinets slamming filled the house.
"Oi, don't mess up my kitchen!" Jake yelled as his feet pounded against his stairs, scrambling so fast that he practically glided downstairs. After Jungwon spilled milk on his shirt, he was half-way through putting on a new shirt as he clambered down.
"What did she—" Sunoo pushed Jay out of the way, knocking the older boy over as he plopped down next to Riki on the living room carpet and peeked over his shoulder— "What did she say?!"
Within seconds, all six of his friends were huddled around Riki, pushing each other out of the way to catch a glimpse of what you said.
"Move your fatass head!"
"I can't see!"
As his friends argued, Riki stared at his phone, chewing on his bottom lip. His heart was pounding in his chest. He only saw the notification, and didn't see what you said yet.
What if you said something crazy, like "I just found out about that one time in first grade when you peed yourself at the playground" even though Riki and all his friends agreed to never speak of that incident again?! Or, what if you confessed your everlasting love for him in a long paragraph?
His head was spinning.
"Wait, did you open the message yet?!" Jungwon abruptly yelled into Riki's ear.
"No..." Riki answered slowly, watching the way all of his friends' once tense faces soften with relief.
"Oh my god," Jake sighed in relief.
"Phhhhheeewww!" Heeseung said dramatically.
"Why?" Riki frowned. "What's wrong with opening the message?"
"[Name] can see if you read her message if you open it," Sunghoon said matter-of-factly. 
"Why is that a bad thing?"
All of his friends groaned.
They taught him a trick: swipe just enough so that he could see the message, but not enough that the system marks it as read.
Hey, was all you said, much to Riki's relief.
"What do I say?" Riki asked, clutching his phone. His eyes flickered to his friends as he sucked his bottom lip under his teeth pensively. "How do I respond to this?"
"Just say 'hey' back!" Jay blurted.
"No!" Heeseung shook his head profusely. "Anything but that!"
"Why not? You want him to say haiiii instead?" Sunghoon nudged the older boy.
"No, no, no!" Jungwon reached across to smack Sunghoon's knee. "All of you are wrong."
Jungwon turned to Riki. "Just respond with an emoji."
They all groaned loudly.
"Okay, anything but a goddamn emoji!"
Riki ended up typing out a simple hey in response. He had to make Sunoo press send for him, squeezing his eyes shut. Riki immediately shut his phone off, placing it face down.
"I don't want to see if she responds or not!" Riki moaned. 
Within a minute or two, his phone pinged again.
"She responded!"
Even though you only asked, How was your day?, the entire house was once again invigorated. The boys shrieked, whooping and hitting Riki's shoulder, so loud that the house probably shook.
"Oh my god, it's happening!"
"Ouuuuu, she wants you, Riki!"
"Everyone shut the fuck up, it's time to lock in, oh my god it's actually happening—"
And just as everyone settled back down, ready to give Riki their mind-blowing advice, his phone dinged again.
[Attachment: 1 photo]. It was a silly picture of you, one of those cute ones that showed your eyes, clearly taken on the spot. 
"OHHHHHHHHHH!"
"Shewantsyousobadohmygo—"
According to Jake, if a girl sends you a picture of herself, no matter how silly or cute it is, she is head over heels for you.
"One message at a time!" Jay yelled over Jake's shoulder as they tried to figure out how to respond. "You need to answer her question first and then respond to the picture!"
"No! Don't respond to the picture!" Sunghoon, who was all the way in the guest bathroom, yelled from behind the bathroom door, his voice both booming and muffled. "She'll think you're weird!"
"I agree," Sunoo said.
"I agree," Jungwon mocked him in a nasally voice, earning a slap to the shoulder. "Just heart the picture!"
But their arguing fell upon deaf ears.
"Riki, what are you doing?!"
Riki was on his own, his heart beating at the tip of his fingers.
I hung out with my friends today and it was fun, how was yours? was his first response. Pressing on the picture, he responded, You look cute.
When Riki glanced over at his friends, they were sprawled across the floor, crying aloud dramatically.
"It's over."
"You're insane."
"Fumbled."
Riki threw a pillow at them. "I didn't fumble— Oh shoot, she's typing!"
The house was once again filled with screaming and crashing as they scampered to Riki's side.
You typed for a few moments. Everyone was at the edge of their seat, simply begging to see how you'd respond. But then, you stopped.
"Good game, guys."
"100% over."
Riki chewed on his thumb, his eyes glued to his phone screen. Did he creep you out? Was it weird for him to say that you looked cute? Did he fuck up?
But then you finally replied.
My day was just filled with homework, very boring, you replied. Maybe if I spent it with you it would have been more fun.
Oh.
My.
God.
Riki's hands shook as he typed back another response, completely ignoring the complete and utter disaster around him. He didn't know what came over him. He wouldn't say any of the things that he typed out loud, let alone to your face. It was like he was possessed by some spirit that gave him the courage to type. Without even noticing it, his heart was palpitating in his chest, his entire face, neck, and ears covered in a red shade.
I'm free tomorrow, he typed. 
"RIKI WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU—"
Okay, you simply responded. 12PM. The Block. Let's have fun.
"D-Did she just ask you out?"
Riki glanced at this phone, then at his friends, who stared at him with eyes as wide as saucers and their jaws dropped to the floor, then back at his phone. He blinked. "Yeah."
"Yes?!"
Riki blinked again. "Yeah."
.
.
.
And then it hit him.
"Oh my god, [Name] asked me out...!"
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hoshifighting · 4 months ago
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i'm BEGGING for a collegefling! jeonghan plzz
thank youuuu 💗 love your work <33
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warnings: smut, teasing, flirting, fingering, penetrative sex, cock riding, semi-public sex, library sex, loud!jeonghan, jealousy, he's such a cutie too.
college fling!jeonghan who's not the type to play around with mixed signals. if he wants something, he’s pretty direct about it. likes games—just not the confusing kind. so, yeah, when you first met him, you kind of got what he was about from day one. freshman year was chaos. the university’s big events had everyone talking—water games, shirtless dudes, bikinis, everyone all bronzed and glowing under the sun. but jeonghan— he’s not about the whole "show off my body" thing. kept his shirt on, like he didn’t need to prove a damn thing. confident as hell, and you hated how much that got to you.
he was the one who came up to you first, of course. said something like, “my friend thinks you’re pretty.” such a casual opener, like it was no big deal. but then he took it further, all smooth with a teasing smile. “but i don’t really trust his taste, so i had to see for myself.”
you remember just rolling your eyes, thinking, this guy—but also trying not to let on that his vibe was doing things to your brain. when he went on to say, “so, are we making out now, or later?”—you laughed in his face, hard. hard as fuck, actually, and told him straight up that wasn’t happening, and his response? a smirk. that smirk that would become the smirk, the one you'd start seeing every time he spotted you from across campus, during parties, even in the quiet corner of the library when you thought you were safe.
after that day, it was like this... game, but not really a game. like, you’d be minding your business, trying to get through your classes, and boom—jeonghan would be there, casually sliding in with some flirty comment, always teetering on the line of too much. but never quite crossing it. like one time, you were sitting with your laptop, probably stressed over a deadline, and he just popped up with, “you look like you could use a distraction.” you shot back, “don’t you have someone else to annoy?” and of course, he answered, “nah, i’m committed to you.” committed. like it wasn’t just a stupid flirty thing.
and it kept going. year after year. no kissing, no hooking up—just this ridiculous back-and-forth, every time he saw you, making your stomach twist up in knots. it was frustrating as hell, ‘cause even though he flirted like it was second nature, he never actually pushed you to do anything more. he knew the game. he knew exactly how far to take it before pulling back, leaving you wanting more but hating that you even did.
one night, you were at some random house party, loud music, too many people, and of course, there he was. leaning against the kitchen counter, looking all too comfortable in a place that was way too crowded. he saw you first, waved you over with that lazy smile that you wanted to ignore but couldn’t. “you lost or just looking for me?” he asked, knowing damn well you weren’t looking for him.
“neither,” you lied, grabbing a drink from the counter just to have something to hold. but he wasn’t buying it, stepping a little closer, crowding your space just enough to make your breath catch.
“right,” he said, that teasing lilt in his voice. “so you’re not here just to finally kiss me?”
you laughed again, but this time, it didn’t feel as easy. “jeonghan, you’ve been trying for years. give it up.”
“noo sweetheart,” he pouted, voice smooth like honey. “i’m just playing the long game. i like it..”
the long game. because even though you never kissed, never took it past flirting, there was always this tension, simmering just below the surface. you’d catch yourself thinking about him sometimes when you weren’t even around him—wondering if he ever thought about you the same way.
but he never made it weird. never tried to make you feel like you owed him anything, which was maybe why you didn’t hate him for it. because at the end of the day, it was fun. infuriating, yes. but fun. he’d make a comment, you’d brush it off, but deep down? yeah, there was always a part of you that kinda wanted to see what would happen if you let the game go on a little longer.
and jeonghan... he was patient. too patient, if you were being honest.
there was something stupidly comforting about jeonghan always being around. like, even on your worst days—those days when you couldn’t even be bothered to try. oversized hoodie, messy hair, not a scrap of makeup. you were barely surviving, and there he was, still managing to make you feel noticed. he’d walk up, casual as hell, and say things like, “your hair smells nice today,” or he’d reach out, fingers grazing your hand, just to say, “new nails? they look cute.”
and then there was that one time, oh god—you remember it clear as day. you’d barely rolled out of bed and showed up to class, hoodie pulled tight around you, and jeonghan slides up beside you at the cantine, glancing down at your hand. “you know what would look cute wrapped in there?” he’d said, all casual. and for a split second, you didn’t catch on. you were about to ask what he meant, then it hit you—cock. he meant cock.
you felt your face heat up, your brain misfiring as you shot him a look, trying to figure out if anyone else had heard. your eyes scanned the tables, praying no one else had clocked his little comment, and when you finally turned back to him, there he was—smiling like butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth. “what?” he asked, all fake innocence, like you hadn’t just caught onto his bullshit. “i was talking about the energy drink can.” and he pointed at the one in your hand, the one you had just bought. “it matches your nails.”
you laughed. you couldn’t help it. he had this way of making everything lighter, even when you were convinced it was gonna be a trash day. and he smiled too, like your happiness was his mission for the day. it was always like that. jeonghan would flirt, you’d roll your eyes or laugh, and things would feel a little easier. it was comfortable. safe, even.
but then… spring party. fuck.
there was something so painfully uncomfortable about seeing him with her. it wasn’t even the fact that they were together—it was the way he smiled at her. the way his arm was casually around her shoulders, pulling her closer, and then the cheek kiss. you saw it, and it felt like something lodged itself in your chest. like, what the hell.
it hit you like a ton of bricks. you liked the game too much. you liked him too much, but you hadn’t taken the shot. you never thought it was serious enough to matter, but seeing him with someone else? it felt like you were watching something that should’ve been yours. the whole night was a blur after that. no amount of party energy could bring you back up after seeing that.
you left early. didn’t even bother sticking around when the lights got lower, the music got louder, and everyone else started to get more and more drunk. you just… left. walked back to your dorm, the sound of your flower crown jingling a little with each step, the one your friends had insisted you wear. it felt stupid now. why the hell did you even care?
and then, as if the universe had it out for you, you saw him. just walking out of the dorms. not just any dorms. the dorms. the girls’ dorms. and you knew. of course it was her. she was in there, probably waving him off after some perfect little goodnight, and here you were, walking around with jealousy you didn’t even want to admit you had.
he saw you before you could duck away. smiled at you like nothing was weird, like you hadn’t seen him with her just hours before. “mhmmm... who’s this princess, huh?” he wolf-whistled, because of course, of course, he would. his eyes twinkled when they landed on your flower crown, clearly amused.
you weren’t. “fuck off, jeonghan,” you muttered, trying to brush past him. but you knew it. he heard it. he caught the tone immediately because even when he got on your nerves before, you were never this cold.
“whoa, whoa,” he called after you, stepping in your path with that all-too-familiar smirk, though now it felt different. heavier. “where’s this coming from? what happened? don’t tell me the princess has had a rough night?”
“i’m not in the mood,” you snapped, making a beeline for your dorm. but he wasn’t letting it go. he blocked your way again, hands stuffed in his pockets, eyes studying you like he was figuring out some kind of puzzle. you saw his eyes lighting up.
“wait a minute… are you jealous?”
the way he said it, like he was genuinely surprised and also deeply entertained by the thought. you didn’t even want to give him the satisfaction of looking at him, but your eyes flicked up anyway, glaring.
“you’re ridiculous.”
“i’m ridiculous?” he laughed, stepping a little closer. “so you saw me with her, huh?” he teased, and you could see the moment he clicked it all together. “oh my god. you are jealous.”
“shut up, jeonghan.”
but he didn’t. he was full-on laughing now, not even trying to hide how amused he was by the whole thing. “okay, okay. listen, that was my sister, y/n.”
you blinked. “what?”
he wiped at his eyes, still chuckling. “my sister. we had a family thing tonight, and she was visiting the campus for the spring party. she’s staying over, that’s why i was in the girls' dorms.”
you felt the embarrassment hit you like a wave. like, of course, you’d worked yourself up into a jealous mess over nothing. but still, the way he was looking at you, the way his laughter softened when he saw your expression change—it wasn’t like he was making fun of you. if anything, he looked… kinda pleased.
“you really thought i’d ditch you for someone else?” he asked, scrunching his nose. “after all these years?”
you wanted to hit him. and also kiss him. but mostly hit him. “shut up,” you mumbled, shoving past him to finally get to your door.
but as you fumbled with your keys, you heard him laugh again, this time lighter. “you know, if you want to kiss me that badly, you could just ask.”
"just ask?" you placed a hand on your hip, raising an eyebrow at him like you were calling his bluff. jeonghan just nodded, all nonchalant, like this wasn’t the moment of his life.
you took a step closer, the space between you two disappearing until your noses were nearly touching. you could see the way his eyes flickered from yours to your lips and back up, like he was trying to stay cool, but you knew better. underneath all that fake calm, he was freaking out.
you just smiled. you leaned in, just close enough for him to feel your breath on his lips, and whispered, “good night, jeonghan.”
you pulled back, turning on your heel, leaving him standing there. you didn’t need to look back to know the effect you had. you could feel the tension in the air, the way his posture faltered just slightly. when you reached your door, you glanced over your shoulder, catching his eyes one last time before you disappeared inside. he was still watching, a grin playing on his lips. as you leaned against the door inside, hand over your racing heart, you couldn’t help but smile too.
a few days later, you were at the library. it was one of those late afternoons where the campus was almost eerily quiet. most people were either at the football field, hanging out on the green, or already done for the day. you’d volunteered for this stupid school board vote thing, which meant you were stuck painting posters on cardboard, your hands covered in smudges of red and blue paint.
the library had this dim, cozy lighting, the blinds half-drawn so the soft glow of sunset was creeping in from the windows. but the table you were sitting at had this one bright, focused yellow lamp, shining right on your work as you dragged the wet paintbrush across the poster.
you were in your own world, humming softly, when you suddenly felt something… someone close. too close. a soft breath ghosted over your ear, so light you almost thought you were imagining it.
“boo!” a voice whispered, low and teasing, right by your ear.
you flinched hard, tensing up, your whole body jerking back so fast the paintbrush slipped in your hand. and of course, it was him. jeonghan stood there, barely an inch away, grinning like the asshole he was. his hands were shoved deep in his pockets, like he was trying to stop himself from reaching out and touching you.
“what the fuck,” you muttered, heart still racing from the scare, eyes glaring up at him. but he was having the time of his life, watching the way your body reacted, still all wound up.
“shhh,” he whispered, stepping even closer, his lips nearly brushing your ear this time. “we’re in a library.” the fake seriousness in his voice almost made you laugh, but you were too annoyed to let him win that easily.
“do you ever chill?” you asked, leaning back in your chair to give yourself a little space, but jeonghan wasn’t having it. he leaned down, resting his arms on the back of your chair like he was claiming it—and you.
“why would i, when scaring you is so much fun?” he shot back, his grin widening.
your heart was still pounding from the surprise, and now from him being so damn close, but you rolled your eyes, trying to act like you weren’t affected. “you’re annoying.”
“you love it,” he whispered, the teasing edge in his voice making you want to scream. but instead, you reached for your paintbrush again, ignoring him, or at least trying to. jeonghan, though, wasn’t going anywhere. he hovered over you, eyes scanning the half-finished poster on the table.
“what’s this?” he asked, gesturing to your work. “you painting a masterpiece?”
“just posters,” you mumbled, trying to focus on the brush strokes. but you could feel him there, his eyes practically burning into your skin. you hated how aware you were of him, of his warmth, of the way his breath still lingered on your ear.
“hmm,” he hummed, leaning a little closer again, his cheek almost brushing yours as he pretended to inspect the cardboard. “you missed a spot.”
“jeonghan,” you warned, glancing up at him through narrowed eyes. but all he did was flash you that familiar, maddening smirk.
“what? just trying to help.” he finally pulled back, standing up straight again, but not before letting his fingers brush lightly against your arm, just enough to send a spark through you.
you cursed under your breath, trying to focus on your work, but it was useless. his stupid little whisper and the way he hovered over you had already ruined any chance of concentration.
“you know,” he said casually, pulling out a chair next to you and sitting down like he had nowhere else to be. “you’re fun to mess with.”
“can you shut up for like, two seconds?” you shot at him, your voice carrying more frustration than you meant.
instead of taking the hint, he just wriggled his eyebrows at you, that shit-eating grin still plastered on his face. he never stops. you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to gather your thoughts, but the annoyance, the tension—it all bubbled up inside you, and before you could overthink it, you opened your eyes and leaned in, kissing him.
just a quick peck, a little “shut the hell up” moment, nothing more. but the second you pulled back and caught the look on his face, you almost regretted it. almost. jeonghan was stunned. like, full-on wide-eyed, frozen in place, like he couldn’t believe what just happened.
your cheeks immediately burned, but you kept your cool, clearing your throat before going back to the poster like nothing happened. “sit down and be quiet now,” you muttered, keeping your eyes on the cardboard.
for once, he actually listened. he sat down next to you, still staring, clearly trying to process what you just did. the silence that followed was awkward as hell, but it didn’t last long. because, of course, it didn’t.
he lasted about five seconds, max. then you felt his hand on your cheek, turning your face towards him. before you could react, his lips were on yours again, but this time, he didn’t hold back. it wasn’t some quick, shy kiss. no. his lips moved against yours, hungry, and then you felt it—his tongue pushing past your lips, invading your mouth like he had no patience left.
his hand slid from your cheek to the back of your neck, pulling you closer, and before you knew it, you were completely lost in him. your body responded faster than your brain could keep up with, your hand instinctively reaching out to grab the edge of the table to steady yourself.
when he pulled back, just slightly, his breath was ragged, his lips hovering over yours as he whispered, “can i?” the neediness in his voice sent a jolt of heat straight through you.
you nodded, not trusting your voice. and that’s all he needed. his hand slipped down, fingers tracing the hem of your skirt before pushing it up just enough to get underneath. his fingertips brushed over your panties, teasing you, and you could feel yourself already getting wet.
jeonghan let out a soft chuckle, his breath hot against your skin. “you’re already soaked, cant wait to suck this pussy,” he whispered
you opened your mouth to respond, but all that came out was a shaky breath as he slid one finger under the fabric, barely grazing your folds. he was taking his time, dragging his fingers slowly, deliberately, over your wetness.
“so wet for me,” he whispered again, his lips brushing against your ear now. “you want me to keep going?”
you nodded again, your hand gripping the edge of the table tighter, and you heard him let out a small, pleased hum before he pressed a single finger inside you. the stretch was slow, his finger curling as he pushed in deeper, and the slick sound of your wetness filled the quiet library, pussy swallowing easily the long finger.
it was embarrassingly loud. the soft squelch of his finger moving inside you echoed in the stillness, and your head fell back, a quiet moan slipping past your lips before you could stop it.
“shhh,” jeonghan whispered, mockingly, his other hand coming up to wrap lightly around your throat. “quiet, be quiet f'me okay??”
you bit down on your bottom lip, trying to stay quiet, but it was impossible when he was teasing you like this, his finger moving slowly in and out, curling in just the squishy spot. he was taking his time, dragging it out, the wet sounds growing louder with each shove of his finger.
“you like that?” he asked, his lips brushing against your neck now. “you like when i finger you slow like this?”
you could barely answer, your voice catching in your throat as he added a second finger, stretching you just a little more. the way your body responded was automatic—your legs spreading wider on instinct, your hips rocking forward to meet his hand.
jeonghan grinned, his fingers moving a little faster now, pushing deeper, the squishing sounds even louder than before. “fuck, you’re so tight,” he muttered.
your head fell back against his shoulder, your body giving in. you could feel every inch of his fingers moving inside you, every curl, every thrust, the knuckles, it was driving you insane. you reached out blindly, your free hand finding his thigh before sliding up to palm at the bulge in his pants.
he let out a soft groan, his hips shifting slightly as you pressed your hand harder against him. “you’re really trying to make me lose it, hmm?” he muttered, his voice strained as he continued to finger you, his pace quickening.
your hand fumbled with the zipper of his pants, trying to get him out, but it was hard to focus when he was fucking you with his fingers like this, your wetness dripping down onto his palm.
“shit,” he hissed when your hand finally slipped into his pants, your fingers wrapping around his length. he was hard—so fucking hard—and the way you gripped him made his head fall back, eyes rolling as he thrust his fingers even deeper into you.
“you like that, baby?” he asked. “you like when i fuck you with my fingers?”
you moaned softly, nodding as your hips bucked against his hand. your walls clenched around his fingers, and the wet squelching sounds got louder, filling the quiet library.
“fuck, you sound so good,” jeonghan groaned, pulling your panties to the side so he could spread your legs wider, giving himself better access. his fingers moved faster, pushing deeper, and you felt your body start to tremble, the pleasure building so quickly you could barely breathe.
“jeonghan,” you whimpered, your hand tightening around his length as your other hand gripped the table for dear life. your hips rocked against his fingers, desperate.
“that’s it, mhmm just like that baby,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear again. “cum for your hannie.. so nasty baby, letting me fuck this pussy with my fingers...what if someone see this hm?.”
before you could stop it, your body seized up, your walls clenched tight around his fingers, your back arching as you came, the wet sounds of your release echoing in the quiet library.
jeonghan groaned softly, his hand still moving, fingers still pumping in and out of you as you rode out your orgasm.
jeonghan watched as you giggled softly, in overstimulation, your head nestled into the crook of his neck, making him smile too. his arms wrapped around you tight, holding you against him.
a single line of slickness dripping down between your legs, a translucent trail of your release that shimmered against the dim library light and hit the floor with a quiet, inappropriate drip. he stared at it for a second, mesmerized by how fucking wet you were.
before you could even react, jeonghan slid his fingers from between your legs, sticky with your juices, and without hesitation, brought them to his lips. he sucked your wetness off them like it was nothing, like this was casual. but the way he moaned softly, like he was tasting something forbidden, made your cheeks burn.
“jeonghan!” you hissed, scolding him, giving him a little slap on the arm. “what the hell?”
he just shrugged, lips curved into that cocky smile. “couldn’t help it,” he muttered, the taste of you still lingering on his tongue. “you taste so fucking good.”
your face flushed even more, but you couldn’t hide the way your body still buzzed with need, even after he’d just made you come. your eyes flickered to the door—still shut, no one else around—and something wild sparked in you.
before you could second-guess it, you stood up from your chair and climbed onto his lap, straddling him fast. jeonghan’s eyes widened in shock, hands automatically flying to your hips, but not stopping you. “y/n,” he stammered, voice shaky, his breath catching in his throat, “n-no, we can’t—”
“why not?” you whined, rocking your hips forward just enough to brush his cock agasint your folds, and fuck, it felt good. you were still wet, soaked from your orgasm, and the friction was enough to make you both let out quiet, needy moans.
jeonghan’s hands gripped your hips tighter, his fingers digging into your skin as he struggled to keep his composure. “fuck,” he muttered, biting down on his bottom lip hard, his whole body trembling beneath you. “because—shit—i can’t keep quiet.”
“please,” you begged, your voice dripping with desperation, leaning closer so your lips ghosted over his. “jeonghan, i’m so horny… been wanting you for years too.”
those words did something to him. years. and it hit him all at once—the weight of everything, of all those years of teasing, flirting, the back and forth that never went anywhere, the way he’d always kept it just at the edge, never crossing the line. and now, here you were, straddling him, begging for him like it was all too much to hold back anymore. he could feel it too—the years of tension, of watching you from a distance, making you smile just to hear that laugh, all leading up to this.
“fuck,” he whispered, voice strained as he watched you grind against him, his hands flexing on your hips. his eyes fluttered shut as the pressure built between you, your slick folds dragging against him. his body was wound so tight he felt like he could snap any second.
“jeonghan,” you whispered again, your breath hot against his lips, and then you reached down between you, a gasp escaping him when your hand wrapped around his length, teasing him.
“we can’t,” he whispered, but there was no conviction in his voice, not anymore. his hips bucked up into your hand, betraying how badly he wanted this. “we can’t do this here.”
“then be quiet,” you murmured, lips brushing over his as you guided the tip of his cock to your entrance. your wetness coated him, slick and hot, and jeonghan groaned, his head falling back against the chair as you slid him along your folds. he was so hard, so sensitive.
“fuck, y/n,” he gasped, his body trembling under your touch. his hands shot to your thighs, gripping them hard as you teased him, your slickness coating his cock, making everything feel too good, too intense.
“please,” you whispered again, pressing down just enough for his tip to catch at your entrance, and jeonghan’s whole body shuddered. “i need you.”
he bit down on his lip, his hands shaking as he tried to stop himself from completely losing control. “you’re gonna kill me,” he muttered, his voice rough with lust. “i won’t be able to stay quiet.”
but you didn’t care. you wanted him too badly, needed him too badly after all this time, all these years of unspoken tension finally coming to a head. you were practically shaking with need, your hips moving on their own as you slid his cock along your folds, teasing yourself with the tip.
jeonghan let out a low groan, his eyes rolling back as you rubbed against him, the wet sounds of your slickness filling the quiet space. “shit, baby,” he whispered, his hands trembling as they moved to grip your ass, pulling you even closer. “so fuckin good around me, fuck— i dont know if i will last.”
“then fuck me,” you whispered back, your voice desperate now, grinding down against him, your slick folds swallowing his cock inch by inch. you felt him twitch, felt how much he was holding back, and it only made you want him more.
he groaned, his head falling forward, his forehead resting against yours. “can’t keep quiet, can’t can’t—” he whispered again, his breath ragged, but the way his hips bucked up into you told you all you needed to know.
you let out a soft whimper as you finally sank down onto him, his cock stretching you so slowly, so perfectly. the feeling of him inside you after all this time was almost too much, and you moaned softly, your body trembling as he filled you up, inch by inch.
you started rocking your hips slowly, back and forth, barely pulling off him before sliding back down, letting him feel every inch of you. the way his cock filled you so perfectly made you clench around him, and you could hear jeonghan’s breath catch, a low groan slipping from his lips that he tried desperately to swallow.
his hands shot to your waist, gripping you tight as you moved. your rhythm was teasing, dragging your slick folds over him as his length stretched you with each motion. you knew what you were doing to him—the way his hips bucked up every time you slid down, his thighs tensing under your legs. he was struggling to hold it together, and you were reveling in every second of it.
you leaned forward, your lips brushing his ear as you whispered, “you’re so fucking hard for me hannie”
jeonghan let out a deep groan, his head falling back against the chair as he tried to keep quiet, his breath coming in short, desperate pants. “ngh—fuck—” he hissed, his grip on your waist tightening as he tried to control himself, but the way you were moving, so slow and deliberate, was killing him.
you smirked against his neck, pressing soft kisses to his skin before whispering again, your voice low. “you love how wet i am for you, hm? bet you’ve been thinking about this all of those years, huh?”
that did it. jeonghan’s whole body trembled, and he let out a strangled moan, “ahh—shit—” his fingers dug into your hips, trying to pull you down harder, but you kept the pace slow, teasing, letting him feel every second of it.
“fuck, y/n,” he groaned, his voice breaking as he threw his head back, his lips parted and eyes fluttering shut. “you—ngh—feel so fucking good.”
his reaction only fueled you more. you started grinding your hips a little faster, rolling them in circles. you leaned closer again, your lips brushing against his ear as you whispered filth, your voice dripping with lust. “you’re such a good boy for me, letting me ride you like this..”
jeonghan let out another deep groan, “o-oh—fuck—” his hands slid under your skirt, gripping your ass as he helped guide your movements, his fingers squeezing the soft flesh. his eyes were half-lidded, mouth open, and you could feel him trembling beneath you, trying so hard to keep quiet, but every whisper from you had him moaning like he couldn’t control it.
“you’re such a dirty boy,” you whispered, “can feel how bad you want to cum inside me.”
“fuck—” he groaned again, louder this time, and you quickly leaned forward, pressing your lips to his to muffle the sound. the kiss was desperate, messy, his tongue immediately slipping into your mouth as he kissed you back hard, his hands pulling you down on him as you rocked your hips faster. you could feel him shaking, his control slipping with every thrust.
you pulled back, breathless, your lips hovering over his as you whispered again. “you gonna come for me, jeonghan? gonna fill me up like the good boy you are?”
his eyes rolled back, his hands gripping your ass even tighter as he thrust up into you, his cock twitching inside you. your fingers gripped the edge of the table to steady yourself, your nails digging into the wood as you rocked against him, feeling his cock throb inside you. his hands slid back up your hips, pulling you down gently as his cock twitched one last time inside you, the warmth of his release spreading through you.
you reached down between you, sliding your fingers through your own slickness and bringing them to his lips. “taste it,” you whispered, watching as his eyes fluttered open, still hazy with lust.
he groaned softly, but didn’t hesitate, his tongue slipping out to lick your fingers clean, tasting both of you mixed together. the sight of it made you shiver, and you couldn’t help the soft moan that escaped your lips as you watched him suck on your fingers, his eyes locked on yours.
you could feel the heat between your legs still burning, still aching for more, and without thinking, you started to move again, grinding your hips against his slowly. jeonghan’s eyes widened, his hands gripping your waist as he realized what you were doing.
“y/n—” he whispered, his voice shaky, “what the—we—fuck, we can’t—”
“shh,” you whispered, your lips brushing over his as you rocked your hips again, feeling his cock start to harden inside you. “just one more time.”
jeonghan let out a low groan, his hands sliding down to your ass again as he gave in, his body already reacting to the feeling of you moving on him again. “fuck,” he whispered, his voice rough with need. “you’re gonna kill me.”
you just smiled, pressing your lips to his as you whispered against his mouth, “then die happy.”
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amphitriteswife · 2 months ago
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Empress
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Pairing: Emperor Geta x wife! reader
Summary: Geta being depresso
Warning: shits ass but it’s my first time writing about him so i hope i’ll do well next time.
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Stepping into your own chamber, you were met with a quite…interesting sight. Emperor Geta was sitting on your bed, wearing only a robe held together by his hand. His face had it’s normal pale complexion and not the thick cakey make up that seemed as if he had no blood circulation. His eyes only had thin black lines around them unlike the dark circles that usually reached up to his eyebrows.
‘Emperor Geta? What a pleasant surprise.’
Your voice was laced with sarcasm. The two of you didn’t necessarily get along. You were blunt and often had criticism on how he handled things, claiming him to be unfit to rule an empire and questioning his choices and commands. Although you were harsh with him, he did trust you a lot. You didn’t seem to do things out of your own gain. You weren’t selfish. You knew what to do to fall into favor with the people of Rome. Hell they even cheered your name instead of his. It used to anger him. A lot. But really, who had he to turn to other than you? His brother gets violent with him sometimes. And he doesn’t trust any of the other generals. Especially not after some of the betrayals or the ones who contemplated it.
‘Empress…keep me company for a while.’
His voice sounded rather hushed and closer to a whisper than his normal voice. The redness in his eyes didn’t go unnoticed by you, and he probably knew that you knew too. A rather deafening silence hung in the air before you gave him a small nod.
‘Is something the matter, my emperor?’
Your voice made him sigh. He isn’t supposed to let anyone know that there is something that’s bothering him. He’s supposed to handle everything, he’s supposed to be strong and not show anything. It’s disappointing. He’s not enjoying the games, nor is he seeing any of the concubines anymore. He’s not wearing his usual confident and intimidating expression. You had noticed it but brushed it off as him just having a tantrum. Geta pushed himself off the bed. His hand holding onto his robe even more tightly. although it exposed most of his shoulders and collarbone.
‘I’m cold empress.’
Ah there it is. His famous line for saying ‘i feel sad, hold me please?’ He’s pretty sensitive. More than he likes to admit. Your arms wrapped around his body, he did feel rather cold compared to your warm body. His hands held you by your hips. Savoring the feeling of your body being pressed against his own. His head leaning onto your shoulder. He had a habit of filling his own desires by having many concubines and power over them. Yet he also always seemed to go back to you when something went wrong. Not that you minded, you had other matters to concern yourself with.
‘Did emperor Caracalla have an outburst again?’
‘He can’t help it, it’s because he’s sick.’
He’s right, he can’t help it. But that’s still not an excuse. The fact that Geta is used to it says a lot. It means he’s experienced it so much that in his minds it’s a normal thing, which it isn’t. The feeling of his fingertips digging into your skin made you jump a little. Perhaps he was just clingy? It wasn’t uncommon for him to sometimes have a vulnerable moment. He was insecure after all. His position was rather weak given the circumstances and the people of Rome, especially the lower class didn’t really like him that much. It was valid to be insecure, but the way he handled it didn’t strengthen his position. That’s when you came into the game. Being raised in a foreign land, in the same royal status has both its advantages and disadvantages. Luckily for you, you have experienced handling an empire and faced great rules. It was a blessing for Geta to have you as his wife, even if he doesn’t always show it.
Geta took a deep breath before standing up straight again, his robe was now loose due to his hands being on your sides. His eyes seemed even redder and his hair a little disheveled.
‘Are we crying? That’s not how an emperor acts.’
Geta wiped his own tears away. He doesn’t want to cry in front of you. Not In front of anyone. It’s why he usually hides his face into cloths when he feels like this. He hated feeling like this. He doesn’t understand why he feels like this. And your little teasing about him crying doesn’t help so much either.
‘He thinks i’m a traitor.’
Geta choked out in a sob. It almost wasn’t understandable. Well, it didn’t come as a surprise. Both Geta and his brother weren’t fit to rule an empire. And him thinking Geta is a traitor is bullshit, but it’s also expected that he would think that way. Geta at least listened to his people, even if it was to a narrow extent. Emperor Caracalla would rather just do things for his amusement and enjoy his luxurious, forgetting he has to feed a whole empire. It’s true that it’s because of the disease, but why on earth would he think that Geta is a traitor when they have always been together and looking out for each other. And besides, it’s a reason, not an excuse.
‘With all due respect, that’s blasphemy. It’s a false allegation with nothing backing it up except for some light words.’
‘Yes that may be the case. But my own brother thinks I’m a traitor. I’m trying, trying be please the people, trying to be an emperor, trying to be a brother! Why can’t I do this when the other emperor’s before me have managed to do so?’
Ah so that’s the case. Jealousy and self pity. It’s not new…but it’s not something he often expressed. Perhaps him getting called a traitor by his brother hurt him on a deeper level than you initially thought. Siblings bicker and siblings make up. But it seems that he really took Caracalla’s words to heart. It makes him even more insecure than normal. Even when you often joked about him being unfit, he never took it to heart and joked back by having your head. Yet now he seems to question his position and abilities. It makes him seem rather lonely…and pathetic.
‘Because you’re not the former emperors. It’s hard being an emperor. But an emperor never lets his head down, even when it’s tough you keep your head high and walk with pride. Besides you have nothing to worry about. You have me.’
‘Right… I have you.’
The words made him think, it seemed to give him some reassurance. It made him feel special. It made him feel…wanted? As if you saw him, not for being an emperor, for being a brother, for being a husband. But for him. Just him. It made him feel a little better to know that there’s at least someone there. To listen to him, to tell him the truth but also comfort him. To make him see reality but loathe in self pity. Perhaps he’s the lucky one the have you in his life. He can’t help but feel save with you, as if that nothing can happen to him if he’s with you. He couldn’t help but smile and hug you once again. Your body still feeling rather comforting and soothing his nerves.
‘I love you.’
‘I love you too emperor’
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gamora-borealis · 9 months ago
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here's the thing. to outsiders it may seem like we're excited because "phan is real!!" or whatever. but they don't know... it's not about that. phan has been real this entire time. there's always been evidence that dan and phil were together, more or less (more evidence than I think some people realize). the reason phan™ is such a big deal is because two silly gay boys met online in 2009, but their fame quickly outgrew their comfort zone and they quickly went back in the closet. dan was so traumatized from being bullied in school that he had a public meltdown on tumblr in 2012 insisting he was straight after some very private stuff leaked (that he insisted was a unused prank). after going to therapy and meeting so many queer fans on tour, dan slowly began to hint again that he was queer. but it still took them until 2019 to officially come out! and like. dan essentially confirmed that yes all the public online flirting back in 2009/2010 between him and phil was very real and that they were "more than just romantic" at that point and were currently "real best friends, life companions, and soulmates." but that was it, they weren't going to share any more. which is perfectly fine, but some of that definitely had to do with dan wanting to explore himself outside of the Dan and Phil™ brand (which unfortunately he got fucked over by the pandemic and by YouTube in the process). however they did eventually make a very cute announcement that they had bought and designed a new house together. and bit by bit they started making some more coupley jokes about each other here and there and sharing glimpses of a bedroom with both of their stuff in it, though it was still fairly subdued. but then dan finally got to go do his solo comedy tour and when he came back, shit suddenly CHANGED. 2023 was wild. they brought back their joint gaming channel they hadn't touched in five years since just before they came out. and they basically started the public flirting again??? this time on camera??? maybe not as direct as the 2009 stuff at first but. it's definitely been building up close to it. and then Dan finally releases his comedy special for free on YouTube. Phil writes a gushy tweet about it. and dan just replies with 🧡. ...except for within a larger birthday tweet in 2023, dan had not used a heart emoji for phil since like... 2010??? and then suddenly he screenshots this interaction and POSTS IT ON HIS YOUTUBE COMMUNITY TAB with the caption "gay" and a link to his special. like. this isn't about confirmation... the people who have been saying that they probably aren't together or that you shouldn't think or wonder if they are were like, the twitter morality police, ex-phannies, and generally clueless people. tumblr phannies clearly have known that they've been gay for each other for the past 15 years. but this whole "gay 🧡" incident is the first time Dan Howell has very publicly said something like this about his relationship while being "unapologetically gay" as a very public figure (there's been some magazine interviews that technically have come close but, nothing as direct as this). like that is so fucking huge??? that he and phil are finally comfortable enough online, on YouTube, and in life, to go there!!! as we are now approaching fifteen years of them together too!!! like, it's so nice to get to celebrate such a happy queer relationship and expression of queer joy. and dan has hinted that bigger stuff is coming too... like. yeah phan is real I guess 🙃
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writingwithciara · 2 months ago
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could be -jack hughes-
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summary: y/n and jack are as inseparable as real best friends should be. so much so that even though they're not dating, she is considered a 'wag' anyway
word count: 4.6k
pairing: jack hughes x reader
notes: jack is just precious and so wholesome istg.
masterlist
growing up, jack was always taught to treat women with respect. he was also told that he should pay special attention to the girl in his life that meant the world to him.
and that's what he did with y/n. she was his best friend & had been since the 6th grade. ever since they met, they were completely inseparable.
even when jack went straight from high school to being a professional hockey player, y/n went with him. she figured she could take a gap year then enroll in school in jersey once she found one that was right for her.
it was obvious to everyone that their close friendship bordered on a real relationship but nobody could be bothered to bring it up. especially not when they saw how much they both cared about the friendship and would do nothing to jeopardize it.
jack's rookie season in the nhl was not as great as he expected it to be. he lost more games than he could count and felt like he wasn't living up to his full potential. but he was reminded every night when he came home that no matter how bad he played, he would always have his favorite girl cheering him on.
and given how close they were, most people had a feeling that something or someone would come along and cause a rift in their friendship. and when jack got his first girlfriend since going pro, they were all proven wrong. turns out that the girlfriend didn't like how close he and y/n had been and she gave him an ultimatum. of course he chose y/n, leading people to believe that there was definitely something going on between the pair.
and no matter how many times people put that idea out there, they always shut the thought down and insisted they were always going to be just friends.
but those closest to them knew that was most certainly not true.
everything they did was something an average couple would do. they could deny it all they wanted but it was clear they were destined to be together.
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"hey, y/n. are you coming to the game tonight?"
"do you want me to come?"
"always." jack smiled, but immediately became concerned when she didn't smile back. "of course i want you there. do you think i don't?"
"i was just messing with you, jack. of course i'll be there."
"okay good." he kissed the top of her head and smiled. "you almost gave me a heart attack. i can't play without you there."
"no need to worry, darling. i've never intentionally missed a game since the second half of your rookie season and i'm not going to start now."
"i know. i don't know why i thought you weren't coming tonight though."
"you'd miss me too much if i wasn't there." y/n smirked.
"you know me too well." jack chuckled and grabbed his gear. "i'm late for practice. but i'll for sure see you later tonight, right?"
"absolutely. wouldn't miss it." y/n walked with jack to the door. he looked at her bracelet and smiled.
"you're gonna need a whole new bracelet if we win tonight."
"you mean after you win tonight?" y/n smiled and moved the bracelet around. "who picks out the charm this time?"
"i believe it's jesper's turn again."
"oh, sweet. i love the charms he picks."
"what about mine?"
"i love them even more than jesper's. you know that."
"yeah, i know." jack smiled again and grabbed his keys. "alright. see you in a few hours."
"bye." y/n shut the door and examined her bracelet again. jack had bought it for her after he scored his first career goal and told her that every time his team won, he would buy her another charm because he considered her to be his personal good luck charm. after the 10th win, his teammates started taking turns picking out the charms, as they not only believed that y/n was jack's good luck charm, but theirs as well. they never lost when she attended a game so the belief stuck.
a few hours later, y/n grabbed her jack hughes jersey, put on her black jeans and slipped on her red converse. she threw her hair up in a messy bun and didn't bother with any makeup since she never really wore it much anyway.
before she got in the car, she sent a text to both jack and luke, wishing them good luck on the game. luke's reply was just a thumbs up while jack's reply was an entire paragraph. y/n left it open and drove to the arena. when she arrived, she put her phone in her purse, completely forgetting to respond to jack's text.
in the locker room, luke was finishing adjusting his skates when jack sat next to him.
"y/n left me on read, luke. do you think she's okay? what if something happened to her on the way here?"
"i'm sure she's fine. she's the most careful driver i know." he finished lacing the right skate and pulled the left one tighter. "have you tried calling?"
"no. we never call before games. it's a rule."
"you might have to break a rule every now and then."
"okay, fine." jack pulled his phone out and quickly dialed y/n's number. it went to voicemail and jack sighed. "right to voicemail, luke. this is not good."
"relax, jack. she probably just turned her phone to do not disturb so she could focus entirely on the game tonight."
"okay. maybe you're right." jack stood up. "thanks, bro."
"no problem." luke chuckled. "you gotta learn to never doubt me."
"yeah, yeah. whatever." jack rolled his eyes and grabbed his stick. "we got a game to win."
as the boys came out onto the ice, y/n's gaze immediately landed on jack. he looked at her and smiled, thankful that nothing happened to her on the way to the game. he skated around and that's when the thought hit him.
she didn't respond to his pre-game text like she normally did.
the game went on like it normally would, but with jack distracted, he wasn't playing his best. y/n watched as jack took a hit at the end of 1st period. it never should've happened and she was beginning to worry.
she pulled out her phone and went to send him a text, knowing he was gonna check his phone during the break. and that's when she realized she never replied to the paragraph he sent before the game. she felt guilty, as if she was the reason jack was having a bad game.
she typed as fast as her fingers could go, rattling off an extra long apology text, hoping it would make up for earlier.
and when jack was back out on the ice for the second period, he seemed to be playing a lot better than before. the text seemed to have worked.
halfway through the last period, the devils were up by 2. as jack scored, he turned to look at y/n. when he saw her, he smiled.
he was distracted and the other team knew it. so they took this opportunity to slam him in the boards as hard as possible, taking jack out for the last 10 minutes of the game.
as the ref escorted jack off the ice, y/n hurried out of her seat and down to the tunnel. she rushed to the medic's office and watched as he did his routine checkup on jack. when he was finished, he turned to y/n.
"take good care of this one. he's showing signs of a possible concussion and he may be out for a game or two. we have to make sure he'll be okay."
"don't worry. i'll make sure he's fine." y/n smiled as the medic walked out of the room.
"that was a terrible game." jack shook his head slowly. "i screwed up."
"no you didn't, jack. you played great." y/n squeezed his shoulder softly and smiled.
"you and i both know i didn't. i was a mess in the first half of the game and-"
"i know. it was my fault. i should've answered your text."
"what? no. that's not why i wasn't focused. okay well maybe a bit. but i wasn't mad. i was scared. the last text i got from you before the game was that you were on your way here. and when you didn't reply to my text, i thought something bad happened to you. i wouldn't know what to do without you."
"don't worry. i'm right here."
"good." jack looked up at her and smiled. neither of them knew why they began to lean in but when their lips were about to touch, luke walked into the room, causing them both to jump apart. luckily luke didn't see anything.
"hey. we won the game but i wanted to come see you. how are you doing?"
"i'm alright. might have a concussion and may have to sit out for a game or two. but i'm fine."
"do you need me to stay tonight and keep an eye on you?"
"no thanks, luke. i appreciate the offer but y/n is gonna be there. she lives with me, remember?"
"right. are you sure there's not another reason she's living with you? like, say, maybe you guys are more than friends?" luke raised his eyebrow.
"oh yeah. i sleep with jack every night and he's sooo good. and oh my god. the size is just-" y/n smirked when luke interrupted her.
"i was kidding. i really didn't need to know any details. gross." he shook his head and left the room. jack couldn't help ut laugh at his brothers reaction.
"you know he's gonna tell the rest of the team, right?"
"let them believe what they want. only we know the truth." she winked at him and grabbed his stuff. "now let's get going. i hear my bed calling me."
"you're so dramatic." he chuckled and followed his best friend out to her car. "it's a good thing i got a ride here with luke this morning."
"yes it is. now you can be my little passenger princess this time, instead of the other way around."
"ha. ha. very funny."
"i know i am." y/n smiled and started driving back to their apartment. "how's the head feeling?"
"little rough. but i'll be fine, i promise. you don't need to worry." jack reached over the center console and squeezed her leg gently.
"i always worry about you." y/n kept her eyes on the road but when jack moved his hand, she felt like her leg was on fire.
"i know. and i appreciate it. a lot." jack smiled and got out of the car when she parked. he hurried over to her door and opened it for her.
"thanks, jack. but i could've done that on my own."
"i'm showing my appreciation."
"jack, there are other ways to show your appreciation." y/n smiled and walked to their door. jack was frozen in his spot as he watched her walk inside. before the door shut, he rushed in behind her.
"hold up. just wait a second." he sat down on the couch and looked at y/n. "what other ways can i show my appreciation?"
"by getting me a new charm for my bracelet since your team won." y/n smirked. "did you think i meant something else?"
"what? no. of course not." jack shook his head rapidly, causing y/n to continue smirking.
"oh my gosh. you totally did!"
"well, i kinda thought that we could talk about what almost happened back in the medic's office before luke walked in."
"jack, it was a slip up. heat of the moment situation. it never should've happened."
"it didn't happen. but i agree. heat of the moment." jack sighed and looked at her. "you're my best friend and i love you. but what didn't happen is not going to change us, right?"
"of course not." y/n smiled and headed to her room. jack watched her close the door and let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding.
it was going to change everything.
❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤
over the course of the next few weeks, the dynamic between y/n and jack had shifted. everyone noticed immediately but it took jack and y/n a little longer to catch on.
it wasn't drastic enough where y/n felt like she had to move out. but she no longer felt like jack wanted to spend every minute with her like he normally had in the past.
his attitude changed and he slowly became less of the happy guy he always was, and more of a moody one instead. he was getting into fights more often than not & he was bringing girls home with him almost every night.
he would ignore y/n when she would greet him and each time he did, y/n felt like he was chipping away a piece of her heart. it was starting to become an issue for her and she didn't know what to do.
until an 'angel' knocked on the apartment door one afternoon.
y/n was home alone, getting ready for the last regular season game, when she heard the knock. she got up and looked through the peephole.
"nico? what are you doing here? shouldn't you be at the arena practicing for the big game?"
"i should be. but i think we need to talk."
"what about?" she held the door and looked at her friend. "what's going on? is everything okay?"
"with me? yeah. with jack? no."
"what do you mean?"
"you've noticed the changes recently, yes?"
"of course. i notice a lot." she shook her head. "what about his changes?"
"it's messing with his playing."
"meaning?"
"he used to be the best player on the team but for the last 4 weeks, he's been different. his points haven't gone up and his skill level has declined. he still ranks fairly high in the league but it's nowhere near where he deserves to be." he sighed. "i need to know what happened between you guys."
"why do you assume something happened?"
"because i know you guys better than you think i do. and the dynamic between you has shifted since he got the concussion a month ago. so what happened? did jack say something to upset you, or vice versa?"
"no. at least, i don't think so. and to be honest, i have no idea what really happened. the night he got the concussion, we came home and things were fine. but when i woke up the next morning, it was like the jack hughes i know and love was replaced by someone else."
"so jack is the only one to know why he's been acting so weird?"
"i guess so." y/n looked at her phone. "you should get going. the team's gonna need their captain before the game."
"yeah, you're right." he went to walk away but stopped. "are you coming to the game?"
"yeah. i'll be there. there's just something i need to do first. see you later." she shut the door slowly and walked into jack's room. it looked pretty much like it always did. it was a little bit messier than normal but that's how jack tended to keep it.
as she was about to walk out, she saw a gift on the floor by his bed. there was a tag attached to it that had her name printed neatly on it in jack's handwriting. she picked it up and took it with her to the car. she needed an explanation and was determined to get one, even if jack didn't want to give it to her.
when she parked at the arena, she climbed out of her car and ran inside quickly. there was still a little while before the game started but the fans were already filing into their seats. the team was skating around the ice doing their warm ups but jack was nowhere to be found. and neither was nico.
y/n was about to send nico a text, telling him she had arrived, but when she looked up, jack and nico were skating onto the ice. nico waved when he noticed her but jack hadn't seen her yet so she would have to wait to talk to him.
the first half of the game was brutal for the devils. they were down by 3 at the end of the second period, not having scored a single goal yet, and they were looking at a complete shutout,
y/n watched the team skate off the ice and sent a text to nico, letting him know she was on her way down to the locker rom to talk to jack. she couldn't wait another second.
as she got to the room, the rest of the team was walking out slowly. nico was last and he stopped her.
"um, just a heads up but he's not in a great mood and he's blaming himself for what's happened so far in the game. hopefully you can work your magic on him like you always do."
"yeah, hopefully. good luck out there." she smiled and stood in the doorway to the locker room. jack was pacing back and forth with his head down so he didn't notice her and he was mumbling to himself. she knocked lightly on the door to get his attention. "jack?"
"huh?" his head shot up and they made eye contact. "w-what are you doing here?"
"i came to see my best friend play kick some ass and make it to the playoffs tonight."
"that's not gonna happen so you can go home if you want. i don't want to disappoint you when we lose."
"you're not going to lose, jack." she took a step into the room and the air felt thick.
"we haven't scored once this game and there's 20 minutes left. i highly doubt we're coming back from this." he shook his head. "and it's all my fault."
"no it's not. it's a team game, jack. it doesn't depend on just one person. you know that."
"if i hadn't played so badly this last month, we'd already be guaranteed a playoff spot. but this game is the make or break one."
"what's gotten into you? where's the best friend who is always full of spirit and determination? the one who never wants to give up, no matter how hard a task may be?"
"he's a total mess who can't get his shit together. he's lost hope for a lot of things in his life and he doesn't know how to get back to his normal self again."
"when did things change?" y/n took a seat beside him on the bench. "was it before or after the concussion?"
"the same night." he sighed. "i felt the change after we got home."
"was it something i did that maybe upset you?" y/n looked at him but he didn't answer. "jack, please talk to me. i want to help you in anyway that i can."
"do you really think that our almost kiss was just a slip up? a heat of the moment thing?"
"what?"
"just tell me the truth, please?"
"i've known you since the 6th grade and not once did i ever think about kissing you. you've been my best friend since i met you so yeah. it was a heat of the moment thing." y/n looked up to find jack staring at her.
"i feel the same way. or at least i thought i did." he sighed. "i had never thought about kissing you before and have had no romantic feelings towards you since we became friends. but that night, when you didn't answer my pre-game text, i was scared something happened to you. and you already know that. but as i was freaking out, i started thinking about why i was reacting that way. i realized that i never wanted to experience life without you. and then when i saw you and saw that you were alright, my heart nearly exploded with happiness. i thought i lost you but you were there, in front of me, and these brand new feelings became overwhelming for me." jack took another breath. "that night when you told me it was a slip up, it hit me that you didn't feel the same way about me. so i started giving you space because it felt like what was best and i realize now that it was a mistake to do that. because without you by my side, i fell apart real fast. i screwed up by almost kissing you and if it was possible, i would turn back time and stop myself. i never intended for things to end up this way. and i am so sorry i disappointed you."
"you could never disappoint me, jack. you're my favorite person in the entire world. and yes, i thought it was a slip up that night because i had never thought about kissing you before. but when you were giving me that 'space', it gave me time to think about what almost happened and i have come to the realization that it wasn't a heat of the moment situation. i realized that i can't live my life without you. truthfully, i love you jack. i never really thought about it before but now i know."
"so all that space was a dumb idea, huh?"
"of course, dummy. but maybe things can be different now. we can get back to how things were before the concussion." y/n took his hand. "but with an added bonus of love."
"that sounds like a good idea." he went to kiss her but she stopped him.
"wait. i almost forgot the main reason i cam back here."
"what's that?"
"i found this in your room." she pulled the gift out from her purse and handed it to him. he turned it around in his hands and smiled. "what is it?"
"as ridiculous as this might sound, it's a book." he let out a chuckle.
"a book?"
"yeah. but not just any book." he smiled. "this book is special and i was intending to give it to you for your birthday but i didn't know if things would be back to normal or not." he looked up at her. "go ahead. open it."
y/n carefully unwrapped the book and stared at the cover. a little cartoon version of herself with jack stared up at her with the title my best friend written in shiny silver letters. she flipped through the book and smiled with every page she read. it was a story book of her life, before and after she met jack. it was illustrated so perfectly and each hidden detail throughout the book made her eyes water. "jack , i love this so much."
"i figured you would. but i'm glad you do." he looked at her. "did you see what was taped to the back cover?"
"no." she flipped to the back cover and taped to the inside was a little swan charm. y/n carefully pulled it off and smiled. "seriously, jack. you didn't have to do this."
"well i wanted to. i needed to show you how much you mean to me but with everything you've ever done for me, the book and the charm are not going to be enough."
"jack, they're more than enough. they're perfect." she looked at him. "you're perfect."
neither of them hesitated to place their lips together. they fit perfectly together, just like everyone knew they would. jack held y/n's face as he deepened the kiss. her hands held his wrists as they slowly pulled apart.
"okay, my team is waiting for me. i've got a game to win." he stood up quickly. "i love you."
"i love you too. now go out there before they start to worry." y/n laughed as jack rushed out to the ice. she slid the book back in her purse and made her way back to her seat just in time for the final period to start.
30 seconds in, jack scored a goal and the fans went nuts. his teammates all hugged him and nico looked up to where y/n was sitting, knowing she really did work her magic on him.
there was 5 minutes left in the game when nico passed the puck to jack, who scored another goal, putting the game at 3-2 for nashville.
with 2 minutes left, it was looking like they were going to lose. but luck must've been on their side because curtis somehow got the puck to jack. he took it and sped down to the other end of the rink, shooting it right into the net to tie the game.
and when the buzzer went off to signal the end of the game, everyone on the team was excited. they were congratulating jack as they made their way to the bench.
"whatever you're doing, keep it up. that was an excellent third period." curtis high-fived him and walked down the tunnel. both jack and nico shared a look and their eyes went to y/n in the stands. she waved to them and they smiled.
"she must've worked her magic real hard on you to get such a turn around like that."
"yeah. something like that." jack smirked and took a drink from his water bottle before spraying some down the back and front of his jersey. he knew he was a great player but even he was impressed with how fast he shifted the game.
overtime started not long after their conversation and even though nashville was playing hard, new jersey was playing harder. their team dynamic was so much stronger than it was before.
with the clock ticking down and jack with the puck, the win was in sight. but the nashville players were not letting it go that easily. all the players on the ice chased jack and nearly cornered him. one slammed him into the side, causing him to lose his balance and fall. they all looked for the puck, believing that he would've given up the possession when he hit the ice.
but he did that before he went down. he passed the puck to jesper, who was not being defended. luckily nobody saw that pass. jesper took off back towards the nashville net and hit the puck as hard as he could, sending it flying towards the goal.
everyone watched with baited breath as the puck moved faster and faster towards the net. when it hit the back and the buzzer went off, everyone cheered. the devils were going to the playoffs.
y/n made her way down to the tunnel to wait for the team. nico had a feeling that's what she would be doing so he made sure jack was at the end of the line.
as they passed by, y/n congratulated the guys on the big win and continued to wait for jack. when she saw him, she couldn't help but throw herself into his arms. he was shocked but he held her tightly.
"that was incredible, jack. i told you you were going to win."
"i couldn't have done it without you and our talk."
"well, you could've. but i'm gonna take the credit where i can get it." she smiled. "go get changed so we can go home and celebrate."
"yes ma'am."
things were going to be okay. they were gonna make sure of it.
610 notes · View notes
obaex · 8 months ago
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four - hockey player!ex!rafe cameron (pt. 1)
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summary: rafe knows he's screwed up, but when he offers you a way to make amends, you can't resist. the catch? he'll have to do the impossible.
word count: 1.8k
a/n: rafe is slightly toxic in this ngl! i am in love with this. hockey romance is very near and dear to me (this is v loosely based on a real life experience). *mwah*
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You saw your phone light up out of the corner of your eye and lowered your mascara wand as you leaned over to glance at the screen and let out a shaky sigh.
A part of you knew the right thing to do by now was to block his number. You hadn't responded to a single message he'd sent for over two weeks. And the messages had been relentless.
I'm thinking about you in the afternoons.
Hi beautiful in the mornings.
I'm sorry.
You're still my girl.
And on and on, escalating to paragraphs at night, as he typed out things he'd never once said out loud to you before; about how he felt the first time he met you, the things his teammates said, about how Wheezie was asking about you and Sarah spent an hour on the phone lecturing him, about how he'd do anything to get you back.
Reading his messages was like drinking a honied poison that went down sweet, warming every inch of you, only to make you sick in the end. But you couldn't stop. You couldn't block him. And even though you'd made him think you were ignoring him, you craved every message, every word he said something you had ached to hear when he had the chance.
Now it was two hours before the biggest game of the season, arguably one of the biggest of his career. He should be focusing on his pregame routine, on his way to the rink, if he wasn't there already and instead here he was texting you. You were the one on his mind and you drank that poison down, allowing yourself to feel special, even if the text had made no sense to you.
How many?
How many what?
His last message before that was from a couple of hours ago, before his pregame nap, the one you often took together as he had reminded you, in excruciating detail.
Your fingers twitched with the urge to reply. You knew he was baiting you into responding, but you swallowed down the urge and took a deep breath to still your beating heart and went back to applying your makeup, dragging up the same memory you did every time you were tempted by him.
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It was just after 2AM, and you were sitting in your car that you had driven to his apartment, unable to sleep, desperate to talk to him. He lounged in the passenger seat, staring straight ahead at the windshield, tracking the rain that was falling steadily.
"Can you please talk to me?" you whispered, trying so hard not to come across as needy or desperate.
"What do you want me to say?" he asked, shrugging, avoiding your eye contact.
"I don't know, just tell me what's going on with you? You barely talk to me anymore, you won't even look at me. Did I do something?"
He shrugged again and you felt physically sick. Maybe it was because you couldn't remember the last thing you'd eaten, the last time you'd slept more than a few fitful hours, all consumed with the feeling that your five-year relationship was running off the rails. Rumors were flying that there was another girl... or girls... And when you had asked him about it, he brushed it off, not strongly enough to give you even an ounce of comfort. You were falling apart. And he was letting it happen. He was forcing you to end this, too cowardly to do it himself.
"Do you even want to be with me anymore?" you whispered, barely audible over the pounding rain, like maybe if he didn't hear you, he couldn't answer.
He rubbed his hand over his face and sighed loudly, frustrated, like you were just so annoying to him, and you wished you could suck your words back into your mouth.
"I have practice in like four hours, I can't be doing this with you right now" he said, aptly avoiding the conversation again.
Your chin was wobbling and you bit back everything you wanted to say, not wanting to be needy, or nagging, hoping if you were on your very best behavior he would have a change of heart, change his mind.
You pursed your lips and nodded, averting your gaze to look out at the rain and gathering the strength you needed to say the words that felt like nails in your mouth.
"I can't do this anymore" you whimpered, as tears fell that matched the droplets on your windshield. "I can't keep giving 100% and getting nothing in return. I'm sitting here spilling my heart out to you and you won't even look at me. After everything we've been through... You won't even deny that you hooked up with her."
Silence.
You could see him grimace, the tic in his jaw as he pushed his tongue into his cheek. You wanted to grab the front of his sweatshirt, shake him and scream 'SAY SOMETHING!'. But you didn't. And his silence persisted a moment longer.
"So that's it then?" he said finally, like you had any other choice.
You wiped futilely at the tears that were now pouring down your face, even as you tried to hold them back, sniffling with a shaky breath to avoid outright sobbing in front of him.
He opened the car door, got out, slamming it forcefully behind him without so much as a glance your way and you broke down. You didn't make it one block before you had to pull over. You couldn't see, you couldn't breath, and you couldn't hold your hands steady on the wheel you were shaking so badly. You threw your car in park, lay your head on the steering wheel and cried.
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Two days passed before the first text came in.
"I'm sorry" is all it said.
You could see the bubbles at the bottom of the screen, indicating that he was still typing before more messages appeared.
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At this point you were grasping your phone with both hands, like a lifeline, eyes glued to the screen, heart hammering so hard in your chest you felt nauseous and your hands were shaking. There was a chance, a glimmer, a hope and you were clinging to it.
Your fingers hovered over your phone, ready to forgive him, to forget, to run right back to the way things had been, to have him looking for you at the end of every game, for stolen kisses in the parking lot at the arena, to whispered I love yous as you fell asleep in his arms. And then more messages came flooding in.
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More messages were coming now but you couldn't read any further. Your heart was battering around your ribcage like a pinball machine with the whiplash of information: your boyfriend of five years had been actively texting another girl... because she was easygoing, and fun to talk to and didn't stress him out… like you did.
Your tears were back like no time had passed from the night you broke up, heavy sobs coming from your mouth at how stupid you felt, at all the rumors being true. And did you really believe that nothing more had happened between them? He was Rafe fucking Cameron of the Carolina Eagles.
Your eyes skimmed over the second half of his message, about how you were it for him, about how much he loved you, how he wanted to marry you and for you to have his babies?? The ache of wanting that so desperately to be true and knowing it couldn't be was too much for you as you turned and cried into your pillow.
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You recalled all of those messages now as a new one came in. You shoved your finger into the bruise on your heart, forcing yourself to feel that pain again, to imagine him laying in bed, in the bed you had slept in with him, while he texted another girl, maybe even texted both of you at the same time, and you refocused on your makeup.
You had faithfully followed the Eagles for five years, his teammates were some of your best friends, like brothers to you. Despite everything that had happened with Rafe, you weren't going to miss their game tonight. Rafe's best friend and linemate Nick had texted you earlier in the week to let you know he had a ticket for you.
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Fine. It was hard to say no to that. Everyone you knew would be there anyway and you didn't need Rafe thinking he had power over you if you weren't there. So, you were going. And you decided if you were going to go you were going to look stunning, and as you put the finishing touches on your makeup, there was no doubt in your mind that you were.
You had spent more time on your hair and makeup than potentially every other game that season combined. You may have gotten a little comfy towards the end, wearing Rafe's team-issued sweatshirt with his name and number on it and a pair of leggings. He claimed that he loved you in that, but that wouldn't cut it tonight. You wore skintight jeans that accentuated every perfect curve of your body, heeled booties and a tight-fitting long sleeve shirt. Your hair was immaculate and your makeup was admittedly a little extra for an AHL game, but effortless nonetheless as it amplified your natural beauty. The pain in your heart had been ebbing its way into anger: you were going to make him regret every single thing he'd done, the thought nagging at you as your phone lit up again.
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You huffed. You had been strong for weeks, and now he was throwing that at you?
Your perfectly manicured fingers hovered over your phone as you nibbled your glossed bottom lip, and finally relented.
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What the hell? you thought, confused.
Feeling pretty good about your level of engagement, you sent another question mark before his response came in.
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You scoffed before laughing out loud. He was truly unbelievable. You weren't on some sort of barter system here. This wasn't a deal you had ever discussed nor agreed to. This isn't how the world worked, this isn't how relationships worked. It was stupid. So so stupid. And Rafe wasn't the team's lead goal scorer anyway. Sure he was good for a flashy goal every few games, maybe two, but this was the semi-finals of the league championship, everything was on the line here, it was not the time to be playing games...
...But damn if you didn't love the semblance of power he'd given you over the situation, and you desperately wanted to fuck with him.
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Four goals in one game. Essentially impossible. A joke. Sidney Crosby, arguably the best player in the NHL at the moment hadn't even achieved that. But not a second passed before his reply came through, simple, straightforward, no arguing or complaining:
"Done"
And then:
"I love you!"
"I'll be looking for you 😍"
You rolled your eyes, throwing your phone down on your bed, annoyed at yourself for even answering him.
And yet you couldn't fight the smallest bit of excitement you felt.
It was impossible. It was never going to happen, but Rafe Cameron was going to try to win you back.
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(part two)
taglist: @gillybear17, @palmwinemami, @moremaybank, @one-sweet-gubler, @m-indkiller, @ihe4rttwd, @diary-of-jj, @crlsummer, @jjsbank444
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buttsmasher · 28 days ago
Text
Gassy Roommate Paiten (Edited & Extended)
Warnings/Tags: Gay Face Farting, Underwear Stealing, Somewhat Willing Victim, Straight x Gay, Bullying, F slur used quite a bit, Face Farting, Eproctophilia
You remember the first time you met Paiten. He was a cool guy, a little bit of a gym rat, but overall, pretty chill guy to hang with. You guys would hang out a lot and eventually he moved in when Dustin moved out. 
No one really knew, but you were totally into Paiten. You were into his huge arms, his awesome abs, and his ass was awesome. The way they hugged his jeans made you drool. Like literal drool. The worst part about Paiten was that he was the gassiest person you knew. A walking fart bomb is what some of your friends called him. 
You and him would be watching the football game and he’d rip ass and say nothing. Every time, a weird sick part of you would get turned on. You could feel your heartbeat start to speed up and your pants would get just a little bit tighter. 
The best worst days were when you were sleeping and you’d wake up to Paiten’s ass in your face. He’d rip a nasty wet fart and you’d startle awake with the smell of his rancid ass. He’d laugh and rush out your room as you pretend to be disgusted by him. But as soon as he was gone, you’d start stroking your dick fantasizing about him smothering your face in his giant globes.
When it was really bad, you’d sneak into his bedroom and steal his underwear from the dirty hamper in the corner of his room. You’d always try to grab a pair and then replace it with one that you have stolen before. This time you managed to steal his red Under Armor boxers and replace them with a blue Fruit of the Loom pair. 
You sneak out of his room heading back to your room when you bump into Paiten. You stumble backwards and you look up at Paiten. “What were you doing in my room?” He asks you confused before looking at your hand and then back up to you.
“Uh, I thought I, uh, left something in there?” You stumble on your words as you try to hide the undies behind your back.
“Uh huh.” His eyes narrow on you. “So, why are you taking my boxers?”
“Um.” You drop the boxers and charge to your bedroom, Paiten grabs his boxers off the ground and follows you. You go to slam the door but Paiten gets his foot in and keeps the door open.
“Look I just want to talk, I’m not gonna hurt you.” Paiten says but you keep trying to push the door closed.
“No thank you.” You say straining on the door.
“Dude.” He easily just pushes the door open and you flop on the ground. “You a fag or something?” He holds his boxers as he stares down at you.
“The fuck man, I ain’t a fag.” 
“You were stealing my dirty boxers.” Paiten sits down on your chest so you can’t get up. He begins to rub the crotch of the boxers on your face. “That turning you on?” You shake your head no but you can feel your sweats start to tent. “You want my dick?”
“No, dude, get off me.” You raise your hands to push him but he grabs them and holds them so you can’t move. 
Pffft
A quick fart comes out of Paiten’s ass and you can feel the color on your face drain. “Wait, are you a fart fag?” 
“Dude, no, stop.” Paiten gets up but he puts a foot on your chest. You take it as not to get up. You watch as he slowly unbuckles his belt and strips off his jeans. He’s wearing a pair of charcoal boxer briefs that look old. You gulp as you stare at his bulge move as he kicks off his sweats. 
“So, you’re going to tell me you don’t want this?” Paiten turns and starts to wiggle his ass. “I mean come on buddy, everyone wants some of this.” 
“I don’t.” You shake your head no but he eyes your boner. He decides to sit down on your face without warning. He moves around till he gets your nose up his crack. It’s obvious he went to the gym today. 
“How ‘bout now.” You try your hardest to fight your hardon. “Come on take a whiff, you’ll like it.” You do your very best at not taking in a breath but you can’t help it. You inhale and without meaning to, a moan escapes your lips. “I knew it.” Paiten pushes his ass farther back so your head can’t lift off the ground and releases the nastiest fart you’ve ever heard. You take a loud inhale and moan from the scent. You can feel yourself humping the air. “You’re fucking getting off on this?”
PFFFFBRBRBRBR
“You’re telling me, that your faggot ass is getting off on me farting on your face.” You keep sniffing loudly without any reservation to what you’re doing. “Jesus christ you’re such a fucking faggot.” He begins to get up and out of pure instinct you grab his underwear and try to pull him back down. You’re unsuccessful and instead you rip his boxers. “Fucking faggot.” He ignores the fact that you ripped his boxers and just leaves the room.
Your boner is pressing hard against the fabric of your boxers as you keep sniffing the air trying to get what’s left of Paiten’s terrible gas.
After the hour long jack off session and sleeping for the night, you awake the next morning. You stare at the ceiling trying to decide if you should get up or hide in your room all day. You could live off the junk food and your laptop if you really need to. Instead you peek out your bedroom window to look at the driveway. 
Paiten’s car is still in the driveway, so it seems that he’s still in the house. You give a sigh before sitting yourself back on your bed. Then you see them, the red Under Armour boxers you tried stealing the day before. You stare for about 30 seconds before getting up and grabbing them.
You bring them to your nose and you take a loud inhale. You can smell the lingering sweat and Paiten’s natural musk. Again, you start to feel yourself chub up but then you realize what you’re doing and pull them away from your face. You will your boner away as you leave your bedroom. 
You make your way to Paiten’s room and knock on the door. You hear shuffling behind the door and the door swings wide open. Paiten is shirtless and is only wearing a camo pair of pajamas. Your eyes get lost at his chest and abs before he clears his throat.
“Need something?” He sounds smug. 
“Oh-uh, yeah, um.” You begin. “I’m just returning these.” You shove the red boxers into his hands. “Okay bye.” You say awkwardly as you turn. 
“Wait.” You stop but don’t make eye contact. “Does my ass look good in these PJs?” You turn and see him ass faced towards you. You can’t lie, his ass looks fantastic in those PJs and you’re about to voice that.
PFFFFFFFFFFBRBBRFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTTT
He grunts as he lets out a loud seven second fart. “Fuuck me, that felt good.” He sighs in relief before wafting the air around his ass towards you. 
“You’re disgusting.” You say, even though you’re totally enjoying the view and smell. 
“That’s a compliment coming from you fart fag.” He laughs. He grabs your arm and pulls you into his bedroom. He loudly slams the door shut and flings you towards his bed. “Lay down, face up.” You blink twice before doing as he says. “Good fag.” He climbs above you and sits down on your chest. 
PFFFFBBRFFFFFF
The fart vibrates on your chest. “I figured there’s a reason for us finding each other.” He drags his ass up your chest and gets closer to your face. “I mean, I am the gas bomb.” 
PFFFFFFFFFFFFF
“And somehow, I get so lucky that my roomie is a fart fag.” 
PFFFFBBRRRRRFFFTTTTTTT
The smells are getting worse the closer he’s getting to your nose. “I mean, I have to take advantage of that right?” He gives you a show by flexing his butt cheeks. “And I have this fantastic ass that has fags drooling.”
PBBBRBRBRFFFFFTTTTTT
You feel a breeze against your face and you're properly bricked up now. He readjusts himself and plops his fat cheeks down on your face. “I think this can be a mutually beneficial friendship.”
PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTT
The rotten smell invades your nostrils as you sniff the gas. You can’t help but push yourself as close as you can against his clothed pucker. 
PFFFFFFFFFFFFTTT PFFFFFFFFFFFF
The sigh of relief he lets out makes your dick strain against your own PJs. “It’s hilarious you’re getting off on this, but I can’t lie. Farting on your face makes my dick hard.” 
PFFFFFFFFFBBBRFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTT
“I’d never find a girl into this, but a dirty fag like you.” 
PFBBRFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTT
“Fuuck.” He grunts as more of his sewage smelling farts fill your lungs. “I figure I could use you as much as I’d like.” You can’t argue his logic, nor do you really want to because you’re getting exactly what you want. Being trapped under Paiten’s ass is a dream come true. 
PFFFFFBRBBRFFFFFFF PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTT PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFBBRRFFFFFTTTTTTT PFFFFFFFFFFTTTT
Your nose gets bombarded by fart after fart and you can feel precum leaking into your PJs. You’ve never been so hard before and his ass is totally destroying your face. You feel hot and sweaty and it smells so bad, but your dick keeps flexing.
“I’ll never understand how anyone likes this. It’s one thing to appreciate someone’s ass, but to actually sniff farts is disgusting.” His hole flexes a few times before letting out another ungodly fart on your nose. It’s silent but the solid torrent of air being blown up your nose lets you know that he’s still releasing the toxic air. 
You cough hard as you finish inhaling that constant torrent of gas. “I don’t understand it either.” You manage to say. He responds by lifting up and then slamming his ass back down on your face.
“Don’t speak. All I should hear is you sniffing faggot.” 
PFFFFFFBRBRFFFFFFFTTTTTTT
You do as he says and inhale the loud fart. It burns as it goes down and you feel lightheaded.
“This isn’t a friendship or a relationship. This is me using my ass to get off.” 
PFFFFFFFFTT PFFFFFFFFFFFBBFFFT PFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTT
Fart after fart keeps hitting your nose and things begin to start spinning. You feel like you're about to cum the hardest you’ve ever had in your life. 
PFFFFFFBRRFFFFFFFT
PFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTT
PFFFFFFBBRRFFFFFFTTTTTTTTT
“That’s it faggot. Get off on my godly gas bombs.” You realize that he’s stroking his cock above you. 
PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTT
“Oh god, that feels so good.” He sighs to himself as you're forced to keep inhaling. You’re so close now, but you can’t tell if you’re about to cum yourself or pass out. 
PFFFFFFFFBBRFFFFFFFFTTTTT
PFFFFFFFBBFFFFFFFFFFFT
PFBBRFFFFFFFFFFFFT
PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTT
You can’t help the cry that you let out as your cock starts shooting rope after rope of cum. It’s the most amazing orgasm and causes your whole body to start shaking.
“That’s fucking pathetic.” Paiten laughs above you. “My ass bombs just made you cum.” 
PFFFFFFBBRRRRRFFFFFTTTT
“Well let’s just see how long you can last with just my ass for air.”
PFFFFFFFBBRRFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTT
PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTT
Bomb after bomb hits your face and you can feel Paiten is getting close to cumming as well based on how his body is shaking. 
PFFFFFFBBFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTT PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTT
“God, I’m so fucking close.” He’s panting above you. “Feels so good destroying your face.”
PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFBBBFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTT
He lets out a rocking 15 second fart and you hear him moaning above you as he starts to cum.  The smell is starting to become unbearable now and you’re having issues thinking straight.
PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTTT
PFFFFFFFFFFBBRRFFFFFFFFFFFTTT
“There’s no way you’re still awake after that.” Paiten jokes as the loud toxic fumes keep hitting your face. All you can smell is eggs and rotten sewage. Everything is spinning around you now. 
“Enough.” You cough out. You only get a laugh in response.
PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTT
PBBRBRBRBBRBRBRBRBRRRRRRRR
PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFT
You feel heavy and you almost feel like you're floating out of your body. You try to push him off you, but you’re too weak at this point. You begin to panic as you realize you can’t escape.
PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTT
A loud 30 second fart hits you this time and takes you out. You hear laughing as you feel your body go limp. 
When you awake again, you’re laying on the floor of the hallway. You have a massive headache and all you can smell is ass. Namely Paiten’s ass. You use the wall to get up and notice how sticky your PJs feel around your dick. You struggle to get to the bathroom but you make it and get in the shower.
You can’t stop yourself from blowing another load down the shower drain thinking about Paiten’s ass destroying your lungs again. 
~~FIN
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dorabellingham · 3 months ago
Text
Comeback
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warning: none
characters: jude x reader
summary: when after a while he scores the first goal of the season
may contain spelling and translation errors!
The tension was in the air. It was a decisive game in La Liga, and all eyes were on Jude. It had been a while since his last goal, and the silence from the fans regarding his name was starting to weigh on you. You knew that this goalless streak had been bothering your boyfriend, even though he had been trying his best in every training session and match. You saw how dedicated he was, but you knew he was anxious to break this streak. And now, there, in the Real Madrid stadium, you were rooting with all your might for that day to come.
You were sitting in the stands, your eyes fixed on him, with that deep feeling that everything was going to work out this time. Your heart was racing, your hands were cold from nervousness, and you were barely breathing with each of his plays. For you, each move was like a leap, a quick climb to the top of a mountain and then a plunge back to reality. Every moment felt like it was your match too, cheering for him with all your soul.
Then, it happened.
In a spectacular move, Jude found a space between the defenders, received the ball and, without hesitation, kicked it with precision. The ball went straight into the corner of the goal, passing the goalkeeper with a quick and precise movement. The stadium exploded in cheers of joy, and the energy of the crowd seemed to almost bring down the stands, they were so excited. You stood up, your hands covering your mouth in pure shock and euphoria. Your face lit up with a smile that you couldn't control -the smile of someone who had just seen the person they love do something extraordinary.
Jude, with the most radiant expression in the world, ran towards the fans, and when he got close to the stands, he raised his arms, opening them in a gesture that had already become his trademark. It was at that moment that his eyes met yours, and you, without thinking, imitated the gesture, opening your arms in the same pose as his, in a connection that seemed to cross the field and the barriers. It was as if, in that moment, the two of you were one.
The crowd noticed and started to scream even louder, the fans around you applauded the scene, as if they were witnessing a unique and intimate moment between the player and the person who supported him so unconditionally. You couldn't hold back your laughter, infected by the happiness that radiated from Bellingham, and he, from the field, couldn't stop looking at you, also laughing, both of you absolutely overcome by the joy of that moment.
Your eyes shone with pride and admiration, and Jude could feel, even from a distance, how happy you were for him. After a difficult period, he had finally broken that silence on the field, and seeing you there, supporting him, encouraging him and celebrating with him, made it all worthwhile. He felt that he wasn't just playing for him, but for the two of you, for that beautiful story you were building together.
When the game ended, with the victory assured, Jude went to the edge of the field to find you, who was already waiting for him with the sweetest and proudest smile in the world. He pulled you into a tight hug, and you whispered in his ear:
—I knew you could do it, I knew your moment would come.
He laughed, his face pressed against yours, still breathing fast and his heart racing.
—That goal was for you, babe. Always for you!
You caressed his face, your eyes filled with emotion.
—I’m so happy for you, Judie. You have no idea how much.
You stood there, still hugging each other, with the applause of the fans in the background and the rest of the players approaching to celebrate. But for Jude and you, that was a moment that belonged only to the two of you, a shared victory, where the goal, the fans and the noise of the stadium seemed to fade away, leaving only the loving and happy look you shared.
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