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accidentally-in-fictional-love · 6 months ago

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🤔🕸️🎯 please these have all been so so good

I Don't Know How to Feel (But Someday I Might) - Random Bob Taylor Headcanons

Warnings: Mentions of a lot of canon events such as his suicide attempt, depression, self-esteem issues, and his kidnapping, as well as brief but nonspecific references to smut.

Notes: My first random~ I couldn't decide on which one(s) to do, so I just did all of them! As such, here's actual proper mini drabbles for 20 tropes, just for you and Bob 😊 The last time I wrote for him I just had a crush on him, now I love him, so I'm glad I get to explore all sides of him with this 😊 I ended up writing so much that I couldn't keep my bulleted list, so yeah here's a toooooon about the sweetest man who deserved the world and to heal QwQ

Angst: You're shocked when he finally tells you about his past. It's hard to get out, and he's mentally blocked out so much that he doesn't even remember half of it without help from newspaper clippings and taped recordings of that time, but still it all haunts him as he tries and fails to move on. He doesn't invite you over for the first few months you know each other, and when he finally does he seems very ashamed about his home and the state of it even though he cleaned up beforehand. You can still see the remains of the mazes he tried so desperately to scrub away so they wouldn't scare you off, and it doesn't as you ask but get no answer. Talking about it is hard even if he can't remember it all, and you have to do the work yourself after he trusts you with who he used to be. It's already been a year since his kidnapper was killed, and he was very wrongfully imprisoned, but knowing they were both gone is what makes him want to start healing even though he's afraid, and the day after you find out everything you can you just go to his house and hold him even as the mess already starts to build up again around the two of you.

Cute: Without the past weighing him down, you see that he's incredibly cute when he smiles, something he didn't do very often. There're a lot of cute things you never noticed before now that you're closer to him, such as the way he avoids your eye with a blush when you compliment him, how he treats everything he does with such care, how he links his pinky with your own when he's feeling affectionate but doesn't wanna be pushy. You tell him he's cute one night when you're laying in bed with him, your hand brushing aside his bangs, but he doesn't look appreciative of it as his small smile fades. He tells you not to tease him, he knows he's not, and you spend the rest of the night showing him how much you mean it. He tries to tell you how cute you are a few days later, his face red as he links your pinkies, and when you kiss the tip of his nose in thanks he looks utterly adorable as he blushes and tries to hide his small smile from you.

Dreams: He wants to leave town, but he's been trapped there for so long that he doesn't know how; he kept the house when his parents moved away, he never added anything for himself once they took everything, and he really wants to start over fresh with you. He confides all this to you as you sit on the floor together, watching movies on your laptop since he doesn't have a couch or a TV, and you just promise him all of it as you cradle his head in your lap and feel him hold your leg a little tighter.

Family: He hasn't spoken to his family in years, not after they moved away when they couldn't take being in town anymore, and they were more than okay with leaving him behind to fend for himself. It seems like they cared more about how the Incident had affected them more than it affected him, and he'd been alone for years until you finally became his neighbour and started talking to him. He still doesn't keep in contact with them, not knowing where they went or even if they were still alive, but he's okay with that now that you were his family. Sometimes you think about starting a proper family with him, but he still gets uncomfortable around kids who were his age when he was taken, but that's something you'll work through with him when the time comes.

Fear: It goes without saying, but even as he grew from a child into a man, the fear that they'd come back for him still persists. He sees them in everyone, his memories foggy and allowing them to exist in everyone, even you when you first move in. The house had been empty for ages, no one wanting to buy it with him living next door, not with his sneaking around and digging and fits in the middle of the night. He was the ghoul haunting the street, the monster scaring away all the guests and feeding the rumours even though he tried so hard to appear normal, all while he himself was afraid of the creatures lurking under his bed and waiting for him to slip up for one single second. So he avoided you when you started moving in, even though you were way too young to have taken him 20 years ago, because you were a stranger and you could be in on it, you could've found him for them. You didn't know until after he'd confessed everything to you, but when you were at work he'd broken into your home to make sure you weren't with them, risking it all for his own peace of mind, but after finding nothing to incriminate you it did help him sleep easier that night. It arose again when you noticed him watching you, him doing it enough times to get you to want to speak to him, and thoughts of ghouls and monsters crept through your head in your neighbours voices as he gave you a shaky hello and hurried back inside. You learned together that he was no monster and you were no Invisible Man when you invited him over to your place for a welcome party, everyone watching you as you offered him desserts and taste tested them for him when he was too afraid to risk it.

Fluff: Once he gets used to being touched, you discover that he's quite the cuddler. He finds such comfort in you that he ends up drawn to you without even realizing it, and you quickly get used to the feeling of him slotting against your back as you cook or do dishes, or against your side when you sit together and watch things. Sometimes it hits him that he's practically laying on you or stopping you from doing your tasks, and he closes himself off as he pulls away and apologizes for getting in your way, but you never fail to pull him right back and say you like his warmth. When you start spending the night together, you can tell he wants to hold you as you fall asleep but it feels like it's too much, so you offer him one of the stuffed animals he's gotten you just to get him used to the idea. You smile in your sleep when he eventually decides that it's you he wants to hold, and you let him envelope you on the nights where he's good, and when his fits crop up and he looks like he's in so much pain you just rest your head on his chest and hold his hand over your heart until he feels it beat even in his sleep. It lulls him every time, his breathing slowing and his body stilling as he wraps his arms around you and comes out of it naturally, awake just long enough to see you and know he was safe before falling asleep again.

Friends: Your friends don't like him, but you try to change that every single time you meet up. They've all heard the whispers, and his public arrest doesn't help, but you tell them about the real him, the one who's been healing with you there to help, but they don't believe it until after they see you together a few months into your relationship. He's different than before, healthier, stronger, more like himself again as he gives them all a polite greeting and sits close to you. You feel their stares the entire luncheon and you know he does too, but he doesn't run even when the arrest is brought up to your horror. He answers swiftly and gives no details, and the friend is chastised by everyone for asking, but he seems actually okay with it when before it would have been enough to make him shut down for the rest of the day. You can tell they see it more as time goes on and you remain together, their care for you extending to him when they see how happy he makes you in reality, that taking over their concern over the rumours. You know it'll still be a while before he sees them as his own friends, but it's a start when his next greeting is more genuine than forced as you all meet up for dinner.

Happiness: The word has been foreign to him for most of his life, his last remnants taken from him and numbed by the poison in his veins long ago, but you think he might be remembering how it feels when you glance at him one day and see him smiling even when he doesn't know you're looking. Usually he only does it to ease you, to make you feel better and show that he is indeed having fun with you, but you can see true happiness in him in the moments where he's facing away from you, when he's so content that the past can't get to him. You want to capture it forever but you know you can't, instead committing it all to memory as he watches the ducks eat bread by the waterside, the sky fill up with stars on cloudless nights, children play without a care in the world the way children should always be able to. You're always so busy watching him slowly reacquaint himself with the word that you don't even notice the moments where he's looking at you, when you're too busy to watch and lose yourself in something. That happiness is always the strongest, no amount of residual pain can sully it as he watches you jog over in the early morning for a kiss before work even in the rain, when you spot your favourite movie on the streaming platform you'd pulled up, it now added to the roster to your surprise, when you're so tired you can barely sit up until you're leaning on him and reaching for his blanket to warm your chilly shoulders. He doesn't think that before he met you he even knew the meaning of the word, but he might now as you catch him looking and blush under his gaze, and he blushes right back when you drop whatever it is you're doing to press a quick kiss to his cheek.

Hate: It takes you a long time to notice it, but while he doesn't hate much in his life, he definitely hates himself most of all. He shows it in the way he doesn't like looking at himself, or talking about himself even though he's trying to get better, but most of all you see it every time he looks at his bedroom door. Ever since you helped clean it up, the room remaining empty ever since the police confiscated everything inside, you've been trying to turn the room into something positive to help him forget everything he had to do to cope and solve his own mystery, but so far he's avoided every attempt with a new excuse. Finally he tells you he'd just rather board it off completely, let time take it like the rest of him, and you end up unable to say anything to placate him as he asks you to leave when you try and fail to help him. He lets himself fester after that, shutting you out for the longest time since you first met, and the next time he opens the door for you you can see that he'd regressed in your absence and his self-hatred. You don't leave as you help him paint over the mazes this time instead of just trying to wash them away, and he confesses to you that every time you bring up the room he remembers everything that he did, not what they did to him, all the wrong he convinced himself was right, how much he hurt those families even though he was just trying to help them. He hates himself so much for it, what they made him into, and he wouldn't be surprised if you hated him to for it too, but you can't, you never could, and you promise him that as you lock the room until he's ready.

Hopes: He's never hoped for much in his life, too stuck in his own head and his past and the mazes to dare hold onto something like that, but you find him saying the word more and more as time goes on. He hopes it's sunny today, he hopes they still have that sweater he saw the last time he went shopping and he hopes it's still on sale as well, he hopes he'll get to see you later. Before he used to use more neutral words, he guessed that rain was coming, it was rational that the sweaters sold out since he waited, he didn't blame you if you had something else to do later, you didn't have to come over. It showed you that he was trying, letting himself want to find the positives in things, instead of just accepting everything that happened as it was. You know for sure that he's changing when he cups your cheek and whispers that he hopes you'll still be there in the morning, your legs intertwined in bed, and you tell him you hope that he still wants you around a month from now before he says that he'll still want you a year from now, two even, and when you try and up it to three he kisses you and hopes for forever.

Hurt/Comfort: He still has bad days despite things getting so much better, and for a long time he hides that from you as he locks himself away and tries not to let himself fall back into old habits. It takes him months before you get a call on one of these days, and he takes so long to answer your hello that you wonder if maybe you're being prank called. Finally he replies, and his voice is small and broken as he tells you he's not okay, he can't do it anymore, and you race over the second the line goes dead. Since you're neighbours it takes only a minute to run to his door, your shoes forgotten at home as you use your spare key to get in, and when you find him curled up in the living room surrounded by the scattered pages of his mazes and memories you have to make sure there's no weapons around to go with it. He'd been on suicide watch after his arrest since he'd grabbed an officer's gun and attempted to shoot himself with it, but since the safety was on and he was too upset to notice they were able to stop him before he could figure it out. His fingers are covered in ink and his cheeks are wet with tears and streaks from where he'd touched his face, most of it around his eyes as he'd wiped at them. You instantly take him by the hand and lead him to your place, his head down as he avoids any gazes although there are none, and when you're back at home you sit him down at your kitchen table and clean him up. He doesn't tell you what set all this off, and you don't ask, you know he'll speak when he's ready. When he's all cleaned up you just take him to bed and play white noise on your laptop, something that will clear his mind until the overexertion puts him to sleep. Once he's out, you return back to his place to gather up all the papers and tuck them safely away, knowing that he won't be ready to finally get rid of them but not wanting him to see them when he gets home again. You find him reaching for you in his sleep, and when he wakes up and feels you in his arms it brings him so quickly to tears he knows that he can never do this alone again. After that he always tells you when it gets bad, and you're always there to comfort him as he mumbles every bad thought in his head until he's clear again.

Love: Neither of you ever say the word out loud, both too afraid to scare the other off with it, but you feel it in everything you do. You feel it in the home cooked meals you make for him, in the way he keeps picking things up for you that remind him of you while he's out shopping, in the way he trusts you enough with a spare key to his home as you give him your own right back. You hear people say it all the time on the street or at work or in the movies you watch together, and it's always on the tip of your tongue, but he hasn't been loved in a long time, he isn't even sure if he parents still loved him when he finally got home after those three weeks, not when they'd already buried and mourned their little boy. So you don't say it, keep it locked up inside your mouth as it claws and screams to get out and tell him when you wake up and find him looking like an angel beside you. You wish you could erase every bad thing that'd ever happened to him, he never deserved any of it, but you also don't even dare to dream about the version of him he could've been when he's already perfect the way he is. He was never broken, he never needed to be fixed, but you think he might've fixed you with the way he presses his lips so gently against your bare skin, looks at you with eyes that whisper how perfect he thinks you are, even when you tell him everything that happened in your own life that made you think you didn't deserve his kindness. You're helping him plant flowers in his yard to replace the memories of what he'd buried there before, the grass still dead from when it'd all been dug up and left to gather snow and rain and other painful memories as he stared out his window at it. You're covered in dirt, and already you've slipped and landed hard on your butt and gotten mud on your favourite pair of jeans, and you aren't even sure if you'd grabbed flowers or vegetables as you stare at the labelless packets in your hands, and the words tumble out of his mouth all the same as he crouches down next to you. You almost miss it at first, he'd said it right as you tore a packet open and hoped for the best, but he repeats it just as easily as you turn to face him and ask what he'd said, and your tears fall into the pits along with everything else to help the area heal as you can finally say it back.

Music/Dancing: He doesn't listen to music often, sometimes the tunes remind him of songs he'd heard while he was captured, so you're careful with your music when you're together, just in case. Eventually, he finds some new stuff that sound like songs he might've liked before the Incident, and when you make him up a playlist of old songs that might've been his favourites you get to see what happy nostalgia looks like on him as he lights up and remembers a time before the poison. He isn't much of a dancer, whenever you try to get him to join you he just gives you a nervous smile and shakes his head, but sometimes you manage to get him to slow dance with you, with your head against his shoulder and his hands on your waist, an adult version of all the school dances he missed out in his fear.

Platonic: He's only ever had platonic relationships in his life, they were far and few between but until he meets you he never even considered anything more. Platonic is safe, it's normal, it's polite. It keeps people at a distance he thinks, no invitations to give or accept since he isn't dating the other person, he sees no need to get that close. He views these friends as acquaintances, just barely above strangers, people he knows the names of but isn't sure if he can fully trust after a lifetime of being alone. He knows you might be the one when he feels differently about you compared to the others, when he wants to call you his partner and not just his friend, although he doesn't believe you'd ever want the same, not with him.

Romantic: Once he gets a grasp of relationships and being wanted, he surprises you by being quite the romantic. It's all based on what he sees others do, having no actual experience with it as he fought with his trauma, so at first it's a lot of roses and pet names and hand holding, which is very nice coming from him, but you also want him to be more himself when he tries instead of just trying to act normal. You secretly urge him to do so by showing him your own version of romance, which is different from what he's gathered from others, and one night he admits to you that he doesn't know what to do because you're so different when it comes to your dates and what you clearly do want. You just kiss his forehead and tell him to show his love in the ways that feel right to him next time, not to everyone else, and the next date night you find a bunch of handpicked daisies along with a new stuffed animal for your growing collection, because he saw both on his way to work and they reminded him of you.

Smut: It doesn't happen often, but sometimes when his head is clear enough to allow himself to feel desire, which he tends to avoid because he's still getting used to innocent physical touch with you, he'll go over to your place and initiate things slowly and carefully. Your patience is endless with him on these nights, and sometimes it doesn't even go anywhere if he gets too overwhelmed, other times it's over before it begins because he's not used to this and every touch is too much and not enough at the same time. When you finally do sleep together, you spend the whole time making sure he feels safe and okay, and in the end he cries as you press gentle kisses all over his face and torso as he holds you so tight against him like he'll never let you go.

Spicy: Likewise, things aren't often spicy between you, but once he does become more okay with his own desires and knowing he has permission to touch you, he'll sneak in some neck kisses and press himself up against you just to hear you laugh. More often than not he eventually gets used to casual makeouts when you're over for movie night, and while it doesn't get far you feel satisfied enough to know he trusts you enough to let it physically show, even if it does make him blush if you mention it at all.

Sweet: As your dates come more often and you get the official title of Partner, you find that he really loves visiting new places with you that he always wanted to go to but never has. Sometimes it's as simple as the flower shop he drove by or the park on a non-busy day, and sometimes it's further places like the beach or even the aquarium in the next town. Sometimes it's even places he should've gone when he was a kid but missed out on because he couldn't afford it or didn't feel safe enough to go to, not without one of his parents there with him, and you love the look of joy on his face as he gets to experience mini golf and water parks and a live show in the park for the first time. You can't leave his side as he does, he can take care of himself for sure, he's done so for years, but having you there keeps that small part of him that thinks he'll be taken again at bay despite being a grown man and easily able to stop anyone who tries. It's the one part of him that refuses to acknowledge his growth and who he was now, but you find that going out and staying with him helps him forget just enough that it eases up on its own, and you're happy to receive a small dolphin plushie from one of his aquarium visits without you because he loves the calmness and beauty of the place.

Random (Dreams): He often has nightmares, which you completely understand once he reveals everything to you, but you don't understand how bad it is until the first time you spent the night. It took him forever to actually want to fall asleep, a million excuses for the two of you to stay up ready on his lips each time you felt yourself get sleepy, and you only get a couple hours in before he jerks so hard next to you that it wakes you instantly back up. His fits are subtle, the kick a bad one that doesn't come again, but you can see on his face how much pain he's in as he shifts and rolls and clutches at your blankets. You don't wake up until you notice that he's crying, his eyes wide and pupils blown in the dark as he looks for his attacker and sees you leaning over him instead. He hit you only once, clearly in self-defense as he almost slid right off the bed, and you don't raise your voice or try and stop him as he switches to cowering instead when you don't disappear. You give him space and let him realize that the reason he wasn't home was because he was with you, letting him catch up to everything as you whispered softly that he was okay, he was safe, they were long gone, and even though you didn't get to fall asleep until dawn you were perfectly fine with that as you turned the lights back up and just laid with him until the felt okay enough to pass out with the rising sun.

Unlisted (Healing): It took him a long time to be able to let go of his old habits, but it gets easier with each visit you find when there's a bunch of new stuffed animals waiting to find homes, his old room cleared of the bins and therefore no longer needing them. You took the first one, and together you dropped off the rest at a local shelter for the kids to pick through, and the next time you see one on his table you find out that it's for him, something he had as a child and wanted to have again now that he knew you'd support that. It takes even longer for the mazes to stop, but together you find that if he draws them on your skin and traces the way out it helps. The association with you and your softness and gentle words makes them less painful, comforting even since they're not stuffed into endless notebooks and covering his walls, and when he's done you let him wash it all away and kiss the places where they used to be, no more maze, he can go home. You find out that home slowly becomes anywhere he's with you as he holds your drying arm to his cheek and looks content instead of afraid.

#Ray's Headcanons #Ray's Requests #david dastmalchian #Bob Taylor #Bob Taylor x reader #was looking for a song to finish these out too since most of them were done in silence at work #put on What Was I Made For and my god I was so choked up that final hour I love him so much I need him to be happy and okay

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harrysfolklore · 7 months ago

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oscar piastri being obsessed with his girlfriend: a compilation

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON | oscar smau

Oscar Piastri was known as the introvert and reserved driver on the grid.

While other drivers basked in the spotlight and didn't shy away from sharing details about their personal life, Oscar often preferred to keep his privacy.

However, when it came to his girlfriend, it was a different story altogether.

Oscar was what people called "a total simp" when it came to his girlfriend, always bringing her up in interviews, promo videos and casual conversations, and fans couldn't miss the opportunity to make several compilation videos and tiktoks about it.

The most popular one was called "Oscar Piastri being obsessed with his girlfriend: a compilation" and the 15-minute long video was filled with moments that made fans both awe and laugh.

It started with the clip of the first time he publicly talked about her during a podcast interview, rumors about him not being single were spreading around but nothing was confirmed.

"I do have a girlfriend, yeah," Oscar said, a small smile playing on his face.

"You're not very public, aren't you?" the interviewer asked.

“We keep it to ourselves and try to be out of the spotlight and just live normal lives,” he replied, “We have been dating for over four years now, she has been there for me since the start of my career and I couldn't imagine my life without her. She's my biggest supporter and keeps me grounded.”

The next video showed Oscar and Lando sitting next to each other wearing their McLaren shirts, filming a game called "Green flag or Red flag."

"Picky eaters," the interviewer asked and Lando immediately waved the green flag.

"He's a very picky eater that's why," Oscar said, making Lando laugh, "But, what if they eat fish, cause you hate fish."

Lando dramatically raised the red flag, making everybody laugh again.

"You wouldn't date a pescatarian then," the interviewer said.

"No," Lando shook his head, "They shouldn't be here."

"My girlfriend's a pescatarian, actually," Oscar said, looking at his teammate with a raised eyebrow, "I'll pass that on to her.”

"Noooo mate!" Lando immediately shook his head, waving his hands in mock horror, "Don't tell her I said that, I don't want to be in trouble with your missus! She's a lovely girl."

"She is indeed, but I don't think she'll like you very much after this."

The next segment was from his "Day in the Life" video with Quad Lock, where Oscar gave fans a glimpse into his daily routine. In one particular clip, he was in the kitchen making breakfast.

"So, this is where the magic happens," Oscar said with a cheeky grin as he poured pancake batter onto a hot griddle, "My girlfriend loves pancakes, so I make them every Sunday. It's become sort of a tradition for us."

The camera then panned to a candid shot of his girlfriend, who was sitting at the kitchen island, sipping coffee and smiling fondly at Oscar. She blew him a kiss, which Oscar caught with a playful wink.

"There she is, sitting pretty while I play housewife."

The next clip in the compilation was from a press conference, where a journalist asked him how he manages to stay focused with such a demanding schedule.

"Having a supportive partner really helps," Oscar said earnestly, "She understands the pressures and the demands of the job. She’s my rock and makes everything a lot easier."

"Does it get hard for her when your schedule is too busy for your relationship?"

"My schedule is never too busy for my girlfriend, I always make sure to make time for her. That's why we've been going strong for four years now."

Another McLaren game with Lando was included, this time they were playing Finish the Lyric with Taylor Swift songs.

"Do you feel confident about this game, Oscar?" Lando asked his teammate.

"I do, actually," Oscar nodded confidently, "My girlfriend is a huge Taylor Swift fan so I know a lot of her songs."

"We should get your girl to come and play then," Lando teased.

"She'd probably beat us both, hands down. But I'm not giving up just yet." Oscar chuckled, shaking his head.

The compilation video then transitioned to a moment in the McLaren garage before the first quali of the Hungary Grand Prix. Oscar was off to the side, chatting with his girlfriend, who had joined him for the event.

They seemed to be in their own little bubble, Oscar's attention completely focused on her and his smile wide as he listened to her talk. The camera captured a sweet moment where he gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and kissed her forehead. It was a simple gesture, but it spoke volumes about their relationship and fans absolutely melted at the interaction.

The next clip showed Oscar at a fan event in Australia, hundreds of fans gathered to meet the drivers and see them up close, Oscar was answering questions from the interviewers when he suddenly addressed one of the fans in the front row.

"I've got a girlfriend, thank you," he said into the microphone, making everyone laugh but look confused at the same time, "For everyone wondering, she just asked what my number was," the crowd laughed again even louder, "But I'm a happily taken man. You're nice but I'm not interested."

In that same event, he got asked what did he miss the most from the UK when he was back in Australia.

"My girlfriend," he immediately said, "Other than that the food is better here, the weather is better here. So my girlfriend, that's it."

The following video was also a fan interaction, this time it was a fan recorded video while he was signing stuff for those waiting for him as he arrived to the paddock for the Austin Grand Prix.

Oscar was signing autographs and taking pictures, when a fan handed him a photo of him and his girlfriend from a race weekend.

"Oh, this is a great picture," Oscar said, grinning as he looked at the photo. "This was taken at Silverstone, right? It was her first time at a race with me. She loved it."

"What's her favorite part about the races?" The fan smiled and asked.

"Probably the adrenaline and seeing me in action," Oscar chuckled, "But she also loves hanging out in the paddock. She gets along really well with everyone here."

The next clip showcased Oscar during a Twitch stream, where he was playing a racing simulator. His girlfriend walked into the room, and the chat exploded with excitement.

"Hey, love," Oscar greeted her, pausing the game.

"Am I interrupting you?" she softly asked.

"Nope, come here," he encouraged to come closer, "Everyone, this is my girlfriend," she waved at the camera, and Oscar wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her into the frame. "She's the reason I'm still sane," he joked, earning a kiss on the cheek from her.

The video included one of everyone's favorite interactions between the couple, captured by McLaren's instagram team.

Oscar had just finished a quiali, earning a P2 position, the camera caught as he reunited with his girlfriend who threw her arms around his neck as soon as she saw him.

"Hiii," he shyly said, a hint of a blush on his cheeks.

"You did such a great job, baby," she said, still wrapped around his arms, planting a kiss on his cheek.

"I couldn’t have done it without you cheering me on," he replied, his voice soft and genuine.

The final clip was from the FIA Prize Giving ceremony, Oscar stood on the stage, dressed in a sharp suit, the Rookie of the Year trophy shining in his hands.

"First of all, I want to thank my team, McLaren, for believing in me and giving me the opportunity," Oscar began, his voice steady but emotional, "But most importantly, I want to thank my girlfriend. She's been my rock through it all, supporting me every step of the way. This award is as much hers as it is mine."

The camera panned to his girlfriend, sitting in the audience with tears in her eyes, smiling proudly. The fans watching the livestream couldn't help but gush over the touching moment.

As the compilation ended, the screen faded to black with the text, "Oscar Piastri: The Ultimate Simp, and Proud of It."

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bananayuyu · 2 months ago

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Come to Mine

Pairing: idol!Yunho x backup dancer!reader

Genre: fluff and smut

Word count: 6.3k

Summary: You didn't plan for it to be this way. You just couldn't help being attracted to each other.

Warnings: smut, MDNI, oral (f receiving), fingering, penetration, safe sex (condom woo), it's very sweet and clumsy

A/n: This was such self indulgence, I hope you enjoy if you read <3 I can't believe the comeback is tonight! I hope everyone is having a good day <33 (sorry for any typos, I didn't feel like editing today)

'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

You couldn't believe your eyes when you received the email.

Congratulations, you've been selected as one of the dancers for Ateez's upcoming comeback. Rehearsals start next Monday, August 2nd. Please look out for our next message, which will contain the full schedule with dates and locations. We look forward to working with you!

You'd worked with several other Kpop groups over the last few years. You'd actually made it as a dancer, much to the surprise of your family. You'd like to say you were surprised too, but in truth you weren't. You had felt it in your bones that this is what you were meant to do and would be doing, ever since you first watched a Girl's Generation MV on your shitty middle school laptop.

Working with Ateez felt like the absolute pinnacle. You were only several years in, but you knew from hearing the chatter, from watching their performances, that backup dancing for them was a true honor, and a challenge. You'd gone to the audition with an open mind, not riding on the fact that you'd be selected. They told you all they wanted twelve girls total, a smaller number than you'd expected. And most of the girls you went with were more experienced, or had major connections within the industry, so it really was a shock to you that you were selected. It made your whole body buzz, your confidence skyrocketing. If they believed you could hang with the best of the best, you'd do everything you could to prove them right.

Sitting on the hardwood floor at the end of your first rehearsal, it all just felt right. The group was working together so well already; most of these girls you'd danced with before, and you realized looking around that if you'd ever had the chance to select a dance team yourself, you would have made almost the same selections they did. Everyone was a dance nerd, a true artist, focused, dedicated. Everyone took good care of themselves, was smart, driven, and so hardworking. You all spoke amongst yourselves after rehearsal, anticipating your first rehearsal with the boys, wondering what they'd really be like in person. You'd all followed them closely for years, and were all big fans. You couldn't not be, given just how talented they were, just how dedicated to their craft, the same way you were. But you all vowed to be as respectful as possible, and keep the giggling and ogling to yourselves when the time came.

It was comeback season for them, their schedules incredibly full. The next album was almost entirely finished already though, and you had no doubt they were already beginning work on songs that would make future albums too. It was still six months until the comeback you'd be performing in, the time feeling indescribably far away. Many of the other girls, like you, still had smaller projects to work on in the meantime. This was the beginning of a long journey, one that would begin slowly. It was high pressure, you could feel it. You needed your absolute best to show here, for the sake of your career.

You'd never have guessed how it would feel finally meeting them all.

Sweaty and exhausted, they all came in after their final music show performance. They'd been up since the early hours of the morning to film, and now it was closer to midday. You'd slept in, spending the morning stretching and readying your body for this important rehearsal. In hindsight you hadn't needed to, the first day with the members being more of a meeting, followed by an attempt to brainstorm what formations would be possible with the twenty of you. Then you each had to introduce yourselves, going down the line of twelve, each repeating your names and where you were from.

After saying your name, after bowing, your eyes caught on Yunho's. And in that moment you knew it was all over.

All you could think was, 'fuck, I don't need this.' Truly, you didn't. There was too much else to focus on. Life had been hectic for so many reasons, but now you were just trying to focus on being present, there for your friends and family, focused on your work. You'd been single for almost two years now, and it had been the best time of your life. The time with your friends had been beautiful, fulfilling, peaceful. The success you'd had with dancing had been all you could have dreamed of. But you knew in that moment that something was about to change, something you doubted you could put any stop to. It felt written in the stars, like it was meant to happen. It had to. You could tell.

He'd noticed you right away. You were the shortest of the girls selected; they'd skewed more towards choosing taller girls, so that the height differences wouldn't be too severe. You weren't tiny, but still he'd noticed right away that you were shorter than everyone else. Your big glasses, your messy wavy hair, your baggy sweat pants. You stood out amongst the rest of the girls, but not because you were flashy. You were almost too relaxed in your appearance. He loved it instantly. And he could tell it affected you when he looked your way, your eyes darting fast to the floor when he pierced you with his gaze.

He watched you intently over the next few rehearsals, seeing immediately how talented you were. You picked up everything with such ease; but you weren't cocky, weren't throwing it in anyone's face. You helped other girls when they needed it, and you spoke up when an instruction wasn't clear, helping the main choreographer realize their mistake. You were quiet, mostly, except when you needed to be loud. You seemed so put together, almost boringly so. Some of the other girls were chaotic, which made the boys or other dancers gossip. But as Yunho listened to it all he realized none of them really mentioned you. From the outside in you seemed unassuming, and he knew people thought the same thing about him. So he knew that just like him, there was something more under the surface. Something juicier, freakier, stranger. Every time he looked you right in the eyes, the few times you'd let him, he could see it written in your pupils. And the way you always looked way, like you'd just had the wind knocked out of you, made him think he was probably right.

It really didn't help that he was such a good dancer, so confident and technically gifted, with a certain quality to his movement that you could not put into words. You became mesmerized from the first moment you saw it in person. You'd been impressed with his dancing abilities for a while, but seeing it in person in front of you, seeing his massive tall body move with a level of control that should not have been possible, had you completely entranced. You couldn't help the giddiness you felt when heading to work, the excited texts sent to your best friend. Your crush was forming fast, threatening to inflate inside of you and make you float away. He was all you could think about when you laid in bed at night, awaiting the next time you'd get to be in his presence, and say the few words you did to each other.

Then one day, it changed.

"Y/n, could I go over the middle section with you?"

His voice came from behind you, as you carefully retied your shoes during a break in rehearsal.

"With me?" you asked, turning around to find him standing behind you.

"Yeah, I've been watching everyone in the mirror and you seem to know that section best. I missed that rehearsal where we first learned it, so I think I'm missing the timing a bit." He reached out a hand to help you up, and you took it automatically, the touch between you sending adrenaline through your heart and making you shiver.

"I think you've been doing it just fine. What part is confusing?" you asked.

"I'm wondering when the arms come up, when we're turning around. Is it on one, or the and of one?"

"It's on the and. Here, do you want to do it slowly together?" You couldn't believe the words were tumbling out of your mouth, so naturally from your years of helping assist dance classes at your high school.

"Yeah, that'd be great," Yunho replied, getting in position beside you. You began counting slowly, you both dancing crudely through the counts, reaching the confusing section with hesitation. "See, one and," you threw your arms up, spinning around and turning your back to the mirror, your hands coming out beside you. "They're not back down until the and of 2."

"Ah, that makes sense. So they're delayed compared to the shifting of our feet there," he said, and you nodded in agreement, watching him step through the moves himself, flawlessly.

"Yeah, that's perfect," you smiled at him.

"Thank you, that was really helpful. I'm worried I'm messing things up cause I missed that rehearsal," he smiled back, arms locked behind his back. It looked like he was nervous, to you, which endeared you even more to him.

"Your dancing looks perfect to me," you said, standing still and awkward, your nervousness also showing.

You both stood staring at each other, and this time you didn't flick your eyes away. It all felt like things were clicking into place, and any feeling you had to resist this little thing was all gone. Not that there really was much to begin with. But you were nervous at first, so unsure of his interest. You couldn't bring yourself to assume that someone like him would want to be friends with someone like you. You had to wait for the confirmation from him.

Easy conversation followed the next few rehearsals. Talking about the choreography was always an easy in, and Yunho took to using it as much as he pleased. He complimented your dance skills more than you thought he should, because you worried the other dancers would find it strange or have something to say about it. But no one said a word to you. You felt this thing happening, the two of you magnets pulled together, but it seemed like no one around you had any clue. It was normal enough for him to want to talk to a dancer about the routine, and so what if in those conversations things turned more personal, more jokey, more flirtatious. He complimented your glasses early on, you remember that, and it stuck with you for weeks. You couldn't get it out of your head, the way his head tilted to the side when he said it. His tone of voice, the look in his eye.

Then there was the rehearsal in the gymnasium. You were all sectioned off, the main focus of the day being how the background sets for the MV would fit around the group of you dancing. The director was there, talking with all of ateez and the head choreographer, as they all stood around on the floor. The rest of you were told to wait in the stands, as they set the exact measurements of the set pieces, needing you all on stand-by at a moments notice. It was times like this you realized just how big the budget they had was; they were paying you all to be here today, even though most of the day you spent just sitting there, your fellow dancer sitting next to you almost falling asleep on your shoulder three separate times.

He saw you as soon as you came in, your hair up in a messy bun, your hoodie swallowing you. Your socks didn't match, your shoe laces partially untied. You pushed your glasses up your nose as you stepped inside, nearly bumping into the girl in front of you. Unassuming. Clumsy. For some reason, everything he wanted.

He craned his neck to watch you sit down, waving when you finally looked in his direction. You waved back, the sleeve of your hoodie pulled over your hand. He stood amongst his members, wishing he could somehow say something to you. Everyone was discussing the slight differences in the placement of something, but he'd stopped listening as soon as he saw you enter, so he really wasn't sure what it was. He reached for his phone, wanting to shoot you off a quick text. But then he remembered, the managers had taken them today so the boys would be focused. Also, he still didn't have your number. He knew he needed to remedy that problem as quickly as he could.

You zoned out for a moment, everyone around you buried deep in their phones as soon as they realized they'd be stuck in the bleachers for a bit. But it didn't take long for your gaze to sweep back down, settling on the person you couldn't keep your mind off of. You were met with a surprise, holding a hand over your mouth to keep yourself from laughing.

Yunho was holding up a piece of paper in your direction, the word HI written in big bold letters. You weren't even sure where he got the paper from, much less the marker, but god did it make your heart constrict. How fucking adorable, how totally and completely cheesy. You were like Taylor Swift and her crush in 'You Belong With Me,' holding out written signs to each other and reading them through the window. Well, you could have been, if you had any paper of your own. You smiled, his action absolutely heartwarming, but you couldn't help feeling terribly disappointed that you couldn't reciprocate the gesture. That was until you remembered the back of your hoodie had the word HELLO written across it, right above the smiling sunflower. You held your hand out to him, beckoning him to wait a moment, as you turned and lifted up the hood to make sure he could see the white letters, that you hoped contrasted enough against the blue fabric that he could see them from so far away.

You turned to find him smiling, his shoulders jumping for a moment like he was laughing. It was just far enough away that you couldn't hear well, so you had no idea if he really was. The moment passed, and your heart was beating remarkably fast, but yet again it seemed like no one around you noticed. You blinked around, looking over your shoulder at your fellow dancers. Right then it hit you, that maybe you shouldn't be so openly doing this, whatever this was. You'd been warned time and time again that being involved with an idol was bad news, that plenty of dancers had done it and payed the price. One of your favorite fellow dancers had dated an idol, and you'd heard her horror story before over drinks one night. You knew people had complicated feelings on the subject.

But you also knew your own feelings weren't so complicated, at least when it came to him. Finally you all were beckoned down to the floor, the sets put in place. You all danced in front of them, the director trying out his camera movements, asking you to repeat certain sections so he could try different angles, see how the composition would look with so many bodies in the shot. You'd said hello to each other when you came down, but quickly you had to get to work, everyone's focus held on your dancing. It wasn't until you all wrapped up for the day that he said anything else.

"Hey, I've been meaning to get your number so we can text if we need to, like today," he said. Your stomach dropped; you couldn't believe the words you were hearing. Was he really asking for your number, here in front of everyone?

"Yeah, that would be great," you smiled, waiting for him to pull out his phone and hand it to you.

"My manager has my phone, do you have yours?" he asked.

"Uh, it's up in stands with the rest of my stuff. I'll have to go grab it," you responded, smiling apologetically.

"Yeah, no worries-"

"Everyone we need to clear out, we're supposed to be gone in five minutes! Let's get going!" the lead choreographer cut him off, calling out to the whole room.

"Yunho, I've got your bag, and the car is out front, we need to leave now," his manager came running up, placing a hand on his shoulder. You didn't know where he was headed, but it was probably another rehearsal, or interview, or photoshoot. One of the thousands of things they all had scheduled every week.

In the chaos you scrambled up the stairs, grabbing your stuff before dashing out the door, not wanting to get in trouble. Yunho waved to you from the car, it pulling away as soon as you exited the building and started your walk to the subway station. It had all happened so fast, and you hoped he didn't think that you'd forgotten. His question stuck in your mind over the next three days, until you had rehearsal again. And that time you walked in with your phone already open, pulled up to a new contact entry. You didn't even greet him that day; you just placed your phone in his hands, and looked up at him with big eyes. He blinked a moment, but it wasn't hard for him to know what you were asking. He put in his number, handing the phone back to you, and you sent off your first text of many.

🌸: hello :)

You waited that night after rehearsal, meeting up with your best friend for dinner. You could just feel it again, you knew he'd say something, if you had just a little patience.

🐶: I hope rehearsal didn't kill you today. They really didn't give you guys any breaks :(

Immediately you squealed, shoving your phone into your friend's face.

"How cute, he's so concerned for you," she laughed, poking your cheek.

"I can't believe he already texted," you sighed, grabbing another bite.

"He obviously likes you," she said, making your mind spin.

"Don't say that, you're getting my hopes up," you replied, shaking your head.

"Why else would he ask for your number?" she asked.

"To talk to me about work stuff, dance stuff, I don't know?" you replied.

"Did he ask for anyone else's number?" she asked.

"I don't know, he could have," you said, raising your shoulders.

"I doubt it," she smiled. "Look at you, you've caught yourself an idol. Better be careful, my girl," she joked, finishing off her drink.

"I wonder if this is a bad idea," you pondered, staring off into space and letting your mind wander.

"Don't overthink it. How often do you come across people you like? If he likes you too, you should go for it. You don't have any reason to hold yourself back from this. I mean, be careful of course. I don't want any death threats coming your way," she chuckled, reaching over the table and grabbing your hand. "Connecting with another person is a special thing, and it sounds like you two really have. Don't under sell that."

You left the restaurant and wandered home, a warm feeling in your chest. Hugging your friend goodbye you thanked her, so grateful to have someone you know you can tell anything to. As soon as you made it home, you pulled out your phone and responded to him.

🌸: It was fine, I just got very sweaty. my hair was a frizzy mess 🐶: you still looked so pretty 🌸: you are very sweet to me 🌸: why is that 🐶: I like you, that's why 🌸: you like me? 🐶: I want to see you outside of work 🌸: I want that too

You breath caught in your throat. It was everything you could have hoped to hear and more.

🌸: how can we do that tho 🐶: we'll find a way 🌸: you could come to my place. it's very small. I live alone

He could have guessed that was the case. You never mentioned having roommates, or parents, or anyone else you lived with in the brief conversations you'd had.

🐶: can I come this Saturday? 🌸: okay :) 🐶: are you sure? 🌸: be here at 7 🐶: will do

You had two days of filming for a different group's music video, a huge group dance with nearly fifty dancers. You be finishing it up Saturday morning, and hoped that things ran on time. You wanted to have the time to get yourself ready, take a shower, pick out your clothes. Even though you'd just be at home, surely just lounging around. You wanted to wear your favorite sweats, and the black tank top you had that sat perfectly over your figure. You two wouldn't be going on dinner dates out, or to the bar for drinks, or to the cafe or farmer's market or any other place where Yunho could be spotted. He didn't have to explain that to you; you'd worked in this industry long enough to understand. He'd have to do everything he could to avoid being seen entering your building. If this did become a romance, it would be one conducted in the privacy of bedrooms, apartments, hotels. You couldn't walk out on the street holding hands, or even just walk down the street side by side. But then you reminded yourself of the if. You still didn't know what he wanted, exactly. You'd still never been in the same room just the two of you. The nerves gnawed at you as you showered, as you carefully set out the clothes you would wear as you dried your hair. You'd wear no bra with your tank top, you decided, and you'd wear your favorite bikini cut black underwear. You didn't like lacy thongs, you didn't like most women's clothing period. But you wanted to feel sexy when he arrived, wanted it to be clear to him what you were after.

🐶: I'm heading out now, I should be there in 17 minutes, according to google maps 🌸: see you soon :)

Your adrenaline surged, your body sweating despite the cool temperature of your tiny apartment. You scrambled around, cleaning every surface one time over again, making sure your dirty clothes were tucked away in your closet and not strewn about anywhere. You gave yourself a final look in the mirror, your glasses looking comically huge on your face. Your hair was a mess, but it always was. You'd never learned how to properly take care of your waves. The black tank top looked as good as you'd hoped though, so you shrugged. It was good enough.

You'd only sat on your couch for about thirty seconds when the doorbell rang, and you physically jumped. Opening your door you found him in a loose button up shirt, casual baggy pants, a baseball cap covering his nut brown hair, and a mask.

"Hi, come in," you said, your heart beating faster than it did even during your most difficult dance numbers.

"Thank you," he said, stepping inside, his jacket held over his arm. He pulled off his mask, folding it and shoving it in his pocket.

"Would you like some water?" you asked, awkwardly. You didn't know what to say, the two of you standing feet apart in your tiny living room.

"Sure, that'd be great," he said, looking around, taking everything in.

"You can sit on my couch, or on the floor, if you'd like. Sorry there aren't more options, my apartment is tiny," you said as you filled his glass. You decided to fill one for yourself, realizing now that you'd completely forgotten to eat dinner or drink any water this afternoon because of your nerves.

"It's perfect. I really like it," he said, sitting himself down cross legged on the floor, on the small rug that surrounded your coffee table. It was the only table you had here, the one you always ate your meals at. "Is this the rug you always lay on at night?" he asked as you came and set his water in front of him.

"Oh, no, that one's in my room," you smiled, sitting opposite him on your couch, cross legged too.

"I was gonna say, this is pretty small for laying on," he laughed.

"My other one is small too, I guess," you laugh in response.

"Can I see it?" His eyes have a mischievous glint to them as they meet yours.

"Sure," you say, smirking back at him. You're trying to put on a confident front, because you swear you keep seeing his eyes trail down your body hungrily, but as soon as you start walking towards your room your legs are shaky. Yunho reaches out and grabs your shoulder from behind, steadying you for a moment.

"You okay?" he asks.

"Yeah, just tired. Filming ran long this morning, we had to go over this one section like fifty times. I'm gonna be so sore tomorrow," you say.

"Do you have a foam roller? It's helps me a lot when my legs are cramping up on me," he says, as you open your bedroom door, revealing the tiny room to him. It only has room for your full bed, your dresser shoved into your closet.

"I should really get one," you say, turning to face him. "There's the rug," you smile, watching intently to see his reaction.

"That's the one you lay on every night?" he asks. You nod your head, chuckling. "That's even smaller than the one out there," he laughs, pointing in the direction of your living room.

"I wonder if you'd even fit," you laugh, looking down at the small strip of floor that isn't taken up by your bed frame.

"Let me try," he says, kicking off his shoes and setting them on your shoe rack outside your door. He crouches down, settling himself on his side, his legs bent up to make it possible for him to fit.

"Wow, so comfortable," he quips, sarcastically.

"It is if you're my size," you pout, looking down at him with your arms crossed.

"You really lay here every night before bed?" he asks.

"It's my favorite spot in the world," you nod.

"You think we could both fit?" he asks, pulling off his hat and tossing it on your bed, holding out an arm to you.

"Maybe..." you trail off, stepping over towards him, carefully setting yourself down in front of him. You're on you side too, your face maybe a foot from his, your back shoved up against your closet door. You stare into each other's eyes, still not having touched, the whole scene potentially still friendly and innocent.

A yawn hits you, a wave of exhaustion washing over your whole body. You really should have remembered to eat a good meal before this.

"Tired?" Yunho asks, you his eyes not leaving yours.

"I guess so. Sorry for yawning," you say.

"Am I boring you?" he jokes.

"No, not at all," you shake your head, smiling back at him. And then you both just stare, a good minute passing, your heart racing and racing in your chest, your body aching for something, anything.

"Can I kiss you now?" he asks, but still doesn't move. So you do instead, pulling yourself closer to him, your legs entangling as your lips finally meet, the first moments of the kiss awkward and stilted in that way it always is with a new person. But soon enough you've found each other's rhythm; you can tell he likes sucking on your bottom lip, and likes it when you open your mouth and let out those breathy moans, allowing him to dive his tongue inside, feeling over the plush softness of your tongue. It's heated so quickly, your arms desperately grabbing at each other, a sexual excitement awakened in you in a way it hadn't been in so many years. You got lost in it; you couldn't have even remembered your own name in that moment, because all you knew was his mouth and his hands, his tongue on your neck, the way your clit felt rubbing hard against his thigh, your climax reaching you so fast you don't even realize it until your hands are cramping up. They do that when you're too stimulated, when your whole nervous system has too much input and can't process it all. He senses a change in you, pulling back to see you holding your hands, trying desperately to calm the spasming muscles.

"What's wrong?" he asks, gently holding your hands in his own.

"It just happens sometimes, when I come," you whisper into the cool air of your bedroom. "My hands lock up like this." You start to giggle, a blush creeping over your face at the look he's giving you.

"You came?"

"Yeah, I know, I'm insanely sensitive," you laugh, still rubbing at your hands.

"Fuck," he groans, shaking his head back and forth, and you laugh again at how affected he is. "Are your hands going to be okay?"

"Yeah, just give them a moment. They'll be fine," you say, putting your face up to his again, your lips connecting and fire shooting through you once again.

Before you know it he's on top of you, kissing you hard, his hands snaking underneath your top to feel over your hard nipples, grabbing hungrily at your body. "Can I taste you?" he whispers through ragged breaths, and you nod into him, whispering yes on his lips. He moves down, pulling at the waistband of your sweatpants, and you lips your hips to help him. When he grabs at your panties he drags them off slowly, shoving them in the pocket of his jeans, moving his mouth down your thighs and licking up to your core. He swipes his tongue up your slit slowly, giving firm pressure to his movement, making you moan and arch your back in response, your knees falling wide and hitting the wall and bed you're caged between. Yunho hums at the taste of you, the heady sweetness better than he could have even imagined, his tongue swiping again and again up your entire slit, taking in as much of you as he can.

"Fuck you taste good," he whispers, before attaching his lips to your clit, sucking gently and making you squirm, your knees jumping up to cage in his head. Then he's adding a finger, and then another, slowly pumping them into you while he keeps sucking on your sensitive bud, ripping another orgasm out of you in seconds. He keeps touching you through your after shocks, making your moans high pitched and sharp as you feel overstimulated, but then as he keeps going you slip back into pleasure, and another orgasm builds faster than the first.

"Fuck, fuck," you scream, your hand in his hair, snaking through and grabbing hard onto it. It makes Yunho moan, the vibrations radiating through your core and sending you over the edge once again, your pussy fluttering around his fingers. This time you push him up, your body wracked from coming so hard and fast.

"You can come multiple times," he states, his lips and chin glistening from your slick. You just nod coyly, breathing hard, trying to regain your sanity as he moves on top of you again, kissing you hard. You moan at the taste of yourself, and at the way he's smothering you so entirely. "You like how you taste?" he asks, smiling into you as you nod your head yes, your lips not able to leave each other for more than a few seconds.

"Can I fuck you?" he asks into your ear, his low voice shuddering through you.

"Please," you whisper, grabbing at his pants to help push them down, laughing as he tries to stand and bumps his head on the door handle to your closet.

"Fuck," he mutters under his breath, holding his head for a moment, scrambling still to pull of his pants and finally get to what he's wanted all night. "You're making me so desperate that I'm hurting myself," he jokes, slipping a condom over himself with finesse, finally collapsing back onto you, rubbing his hard dick up and down your slit, attaching his lips to yours once again. Slowly he pushes in, testing the waters, watching your face as he stretches you out. He's loving your reaction, the way that just him putting his cock in you is making you so overwhelmed with feelings and pleasure.

"You're so big," you cry into his shoulder, grasping onto him for dear life.

"I know," he chuckles, his face in your hair, taking in the scent of you.

"Shut up," you giggle, hitting his shoulder playfully, holding back a moan from ripping out of you. He's just barely bottomed out, holding tight onto your hips to anchor himself.

"You okay?" he whispers, placing gentle kisses on your forehead temple, keeping himself still until you give him the okay. You nod against him, your face still buried in his shoulder, holding him to you.

"Please move Yunho," you beg, your body needing more from him now, even if the stretch is hurting. He slowly pulls himself out, pushing back in with care, the wet sounds loud and embarrassing. You're so wet it's starting to drip down your leg, and he slides in so easily, even though you're tight against him.

"Does that feel good?" he asks you, setting a slow pace, watching your body intently. You babble and nod against him, and he picks his pace up, hitting something so deep inside of you that it makes you head fly back against the ground again. Thankfully your rug is there on the floor, but it isn't the thickest, and the actions till hurts.

"Ow," you mutter, your eyebrows scrunching up in pain.

"Careful, careful," he coos, grabbing the back of your head in his large palm, slowing his movements. "Why are we on the floor when your bed is right there?"

You chuckle, blinking up at him with blown pupils, your walls still clenching hard around him.

"Let's move up there," he smiles, slowly pulling out of you, standing gingerly and helping you up carefully, too. You pull at his shirt, unbuttoning some of his buttons, making him pull if off over his head. He's completely revealed to you now, and he grabs at your top too, pulling it over your head and throwing it over the side of the bed.

"Your head okay?" he asks, moving on top of you again, cradling it in his hand.

"Yeah, it's okay," you laugh, staring up at him. "How's yours?"

"It's fine," he chuckles, kissing you deeply and grabbing at you, unable to stop himself. "You're driving me crazy," he whispers, and in a moment he's sheathed himself inside of you again, resting your head against your pillows as he starts fucking you hard, his mouth on yours as your tongues swirl around each other's mouths. He's hitting that spot inside you again, over and over sending waves of pleasure through your abdomen. You feel like you're being split open, like your entire body is filled by him, by everything he's meaning to you. The care, the attention, the perfect angle of his hips as they snap against yours, has your mind floating on a cloud of pure joy. God, it's never felt this good, and you don't want it to stop, don't ever want this feeling to end. You know you're stuck now, you're addicted, you've had one taste of him and you'll never want anyone else.

"Yunho," you whine against his lips, as you feel another orgasm building.

"Fuck, don't say my name like that, you're gonna make me come," he groans, lifting his head up to deepen his angle even further, fucking you even harder. "Are you close?" he asks, and you whimper in response, moaning high pitched and holding tight onto his biceps. "You're so fucking perfect," he says, his upper body falling down on top of yours again, as he holds you close. You come, the warmth and safety his body is giving you making you release, every part of your being comforted by the man above you.

"Yes, fuck that feels good," he groans into your ear, feeling the way you're squeezing so hard down onto him, your moans like screams again, stroking his ego in such an addicting way. "I'm never gonna get enough of you," he groans, finally releasing his load, his orgasm washing over him hard as his hips stutter, his face scrunching up in pleasure as he finally comes. He collapses on top of you, holding you close as you both come down from your highs, your breaths hard and fast and totally in sync.

"You're amazing," he mumbles, stroking a hand through your hair.

"No, you're amazing," you giggle, your head floaty and calm in your post orgasmic state. You poke his side, giggling into him when his body jumps.

"Don't you dare do that right now," he grumbles, tickling you back and twice as hard, making you shriek and laugh beneath him.

You stay cuddled up all night, not able to sleep cause you keep kissing, Yunho's large warm body making you feel safe in a way you didn't know you were missing.

"I should have taken these off before I fucked you," he laughs as he pulls off your glasses, placing them gingerly on your side table.

"Eh, it's okay," you laugh, snuggling into him closer. "They're always on, I'm used to it. I keep them on even when I dance most of the time, which is weird."

"I noticed," he said. "They're so fucking cute."

"You really like them?"

"Y/n, you're fucking perfect. Every thing about you."

#ateez x reader #ateez smut #yunho smut #yunho x reader #ateez yunho #ateez fanfic #ateez fic

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moonpascal · 5 months ago

Text

VOODOO DOLL II T.N

summary: theo can’t get you out of his head. which could only mean you put a spell on him. or loosely based on a song

warnings: mean theo, language, hurt/comfort l WC 3.4k

authors note: fourth time trying to post this so let’s see how that goes

“She’s not going to magically appear if you keep staring at her table,” Mattheo muttered, irritation clear in his tone. Theo scoffed but kept his gaze fixed on the empty spot at the Gryffindor table.

Theo couldn’t stand you. That’s what he told anyone who would listen—you were too nice, too annoying, and every little thing you did got on his nerves.

The way you helped anyone in need, no matter if they treated you unfairly in the past. How you smiled at everyone and everything. Always in a good mood, when Theo couldn’t fathom why.

“Good morning, guys! Did you finish the Arithmancy homework from yesterday?” Your cheerful voice cut through his thoughts, nearly making him jump. Speak of the devil, he thought bitterly.

Theo rolled his eyes at your question. “Forgot again, or just getting lazier?” he sneered.

But your smile didn’t waver; if anything, it grew brighter. “Actually, I just need help with sections 6 and 8. I stayed up all night and still couldn’t figure them out!”

He couldn’t understand why you always talked to them—why you always acted so friendly with the rivals of your house. Maybe that was another reason he couldn’t stand you; it felt like you were deliberately trying to get under their skin.

“Sucks to be—” Mattheo began, but Theo jabbed his elbow into his side, cutting him off with a sharp look.

“Just here, take my paper,” he grumbled, pulling out his parchment and thrusting it toward you. Your fingers brushed his briefly, and Theo jerked his hand back as a tingling sensation shot through him.

“Thanks, Theodore!” you beamed, practically skipping back to your table, which only irritated Theo more.

“What the hell was that?” Mattheo demanded.

“Fuck if I know. I couldn’t stop myself,” Theo muttered. “I wanted to tell her to piss off and figure it out on her own.” He scowled, shoving his food away, his appetite suddenly gone.

“Maybe she’s got you under some spell, Nott,” Draco chuckled. “Drink anything suspicious lately?”

“Shut up, Malfoy,” Theo snapped, the idea unsettling him. The thought of you having that kind of influence over him was ridiculous.

He could still feel the ghost of your touch, as if you were still caressing his hand, even though you were now back at your table, tongue out in concentration as you scribbled down the answers.

“Don’t get why she didn’t just ask Granger for help,” Lorenzo chimed in, mouth full of food.

“Because Hermione wouldn’t just give her the answers. She’d explain it step by step—which she doesn’t have time for—since it’s her next class,” Theo replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

The boys exchanged knowing smirks. “And how exactly do you know that?” Blaise teased.

Theo realized how that sounded, but before he could defend himself, you reappeared to hand him his paper back.

“You’re a lifesaver, Theodore! I owe you one,” you said, squeezing his bicep in appreciation before heading off to class early as ever.

“Yeah, whatever,” Theo muttered, trying to ignore the lingering warmth of your touch, the burning sensation in his chest, and the rapid beat of his heart whenever you were near.

Once you were out of sight, his heart began to slow, but a different ache settled in. It was almost like he missed you—which was ridiculous. He shook the thought from his mind immediately.

Maybe someone did slip him something; whether it was a prank or an accidental slip-up, he had to get rid of it, and fast.

———

Days passed, and Theo only felt worse. He constantly thought you were nearby, even when he knew you were in a different class on the other side of the school. Your touch was ingrained in his mind, as if he could still feel you. Some days, it felt like you were right next to him, invading his personal space, only for him to see you across the field, chatting with your friends.

His friends were no help when he mentioned it. They just teased him endlessly on having a crush on a Gryffindor, which he quickly shot down.

You were an annoyance. Someone who bugged the hell out of him, and that was it—nothing more.

To make matters worse, you both got paired up in Muggle Studies. A class he took just to piss off his dad was now backfiring spectacularly.

The assignment was to write an essay about what Muggles believed to be ‘witchcraft,’ which seemed simple enough—if only he didn’t have to work with you.

“Okay so I was thinking of voodoo dolls, because I think others are gonna pick psychics or magicians,” you started, flipping through some pages of your textbook, “and I think we could get extra points if we somehow have a physical doll!”

He could feel your excitement radiating off of you and it was nauseating but he nodded and agreed. You went on and said you would send an owl to your mother to see if she could buy one from the shops in your hometown.

Theo barely paid attention as you rambled on about your plans for the essay. The way you spoke with so much enthusiasm, your eyes bright with excitement—it was almost unbearable. Not because it annoyed him, but because it made his chest tighten in a way he wasn’t ready to confront.

“Do you even care about this project?” you asked suddenly, snapping him out of his thoughts. You were watching him with a hint of concern in your eyes, which only made him feel more unsettled.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I care about passing,” he muttered, avoiding your gaze. “But I don’t see why you’re so invested in it.”

You shrugged, the usual brightness in your expression dimming a little. “I just think it’s interesting, that’s all. And maybe…” You hesitated, then added, “I thought it’d be nice to work with you.”

Theo blinked, caught off guard by your honesty. His initial reaction was to snap back with a sarcastic comment, to push you away as he always did. But something stopped him.

“Why?” The question slipped out before he could stop himself.

You looked down, fiddling with your quill. “I don’t know. You’re different from most people, Theodore. You’re not afraid to be yourself, even if that means being a little rough around the edges.”

He stared at you, stunned into silence. Was that how you saw him? And why did it make his heart skip a beat? He could feel his defenses cracking, the walls he’d built so carefully starting to crumble.

“Anyway,” you said quickly, as if embarrassed by your admission, “I’ll let you know if my mom finds a voodoo doll. We can meet up later to go over the details?”

“Yeah… sure,” he replied, his voice sounding far away. He watched as you gathered your things, flashing him another bright smile before leaving the classroom.

Once you were gone, Theo let out a frustrated groan, slumping back in his chair. What the hell was wrong with him? He’d never let anyone get under his skin like this before. Yet, with you, it was like he had no control over his own emotions. There was something wrong with him.

The thought of you saying he was “different” kept replaying in his mind. It wasn’t an insult, but it wasn’t exactly comforting either. He hated the idea that you could have this effect on him.

As the days went on, he found himself increasingly distracted by you. The way you laughed with your friends, the way you focused on your studies, the way you went out of your way to be kind to everyone—even to him, despite how he treated you.

The next time you met to work on the project, Theo couldn’t stop his eyes from wandering to your hands as you gestured animatedly, explaining some new idea you had. He couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like to have those hands touch him again—whether by accident or design.

When you handed him a book, he purposely brushed his fingers against yours and once more, he felt that now-familiar jolt of electricity. But this time, he didn’t pull away. Instead, he let the contact linger for just a moment longer, savoring the warmth that spread through him.

But as soon as the moment passed, he cursed himself silently. He couldn’t let this happen. You were a Gryffindor, and you represented everything he claimed to hate—yet, here he was, drawn to you like a moth to a flame.

“Is something wrong?” you asked, noticing his distant expression.

“No,” he said quickly, forcing a smirk. “Just thinking about how ridiculous this project is. Muggles and their superstitions.”

You laughed, and the sound sent another pang through his chest. “It is pretty silly, isn’t it? But it’s kind of fascinating too, don’t you think?”

Theo shrugged, playing it cool. “Sure, if you’re into that sort of thing.”

“I am,” you said with a grin. “But maybe by the end of this, you will be too.”

He rolled his eyes, but there was no real malice behind it. “Don’t count on it.”

As you continued working, Theo found himself glancing at you more often, watching the way your lips moved as you spoke, the way your eyes lit up when you got excited about something.

After the study session, Theo left with an unfamiliar smile tugging at his lips, lost in thoughts of you. He was so preoccupied that he didn’t notice Mattheo approaching from behind in the hallway.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” Mattheo said, his voice laced with curiosity. “What’s with the grin? Did you win a fight?”

Theo scoffed, quickly wiping the smile from his face and replacing it with his usual scowl. “Salazar’s sake, no, I wasn’t in a fight.”

“Then why are you so happy? Snog someone? Wait—don’t tell me, did you snog Bug?” Mattheo teased, his tone dripping with mockery, fully aware of how much Theo loathed that nickname recently.

“Stop calling her that,” Theo snapped, shaking Mattheo’s arm off and feeling his good mood souring by the second.

“Oh, since when do you come to her defense? Especially when you’re the one who started calling her that,” Mattheo retorted, raising an eyebrow. The nickname had been an impulsive jab, something Theo came up with in a moment of annoyance. Now, it felt like a cruel joke.

Ignoring Mattheo, Theo continued down the hallway toward the Slytherin dorms, determined to work on his portion of the essay. But Mattheo wasn’t ready to let it go.

Once they reached the Slytherin common room, Mattheo seized the opportunity to stir the pot. “Hey, guys, doesn’t Theo seem a little… different lately?” he announced, adopting an exaggerated infomercial voice. “We barely see him, and when we do, he’s actually smiling.”

Theo halted in his tracks, irritation bubbling up inside him.

“I noticed that too,” Pansy chimed in, her tone dripping with curiosity. “He’s been sneaking off a lot.”

“Yeah, what’s the deal, Nott?” Blaise added, his voice teasing. “Too good for us now?”

Theo rolled his eyes, adjusting the stack of books you had recommended in his arms. “I’ve just been busy, you know—actually doing schoolwork.”

“Sure, and by ‘schoolwork,’ you mean hanging out with Bug,” Draco chimed in, his grin widening. “I thought you couldn’t stand her?”

“You lot are a bunch of tossers,” Theo shot back, his patience wearing thin. “Yes, I’ve been working with her because we got paired up for a project. That’s all.”

They exchanged skeptical glances, sensing there was more to the story.

“What’s the project about?” Pansy asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.

Theo let out an exasperated sigh. “It’s an essay on Voodoo dolls for Muggle Studies.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, Mattheo’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Voodoo dolls? Are you serious, Theo? You’re supposed to be the smart one here!”

Theo frowned, confused by Mattheo’s sudden outburst. “What the hell are you on about now?”

“Voodoo dolls, you daft git!” Mattheo exclaimed, practically jumping out of his seat. “They’re Muggles’ way of trying to control people! Haven’t you been paying attention? She might have one of you—that’s probably why you’ve been acting so strange!”

Theo stared at Mattheo, a mix of annoyance and unease settling in. The idea was absurd—yet the possibility gnawed at him. Was that really what was happening? It would make a lot of sense.

Theo dropped everything and bolted out of the common room, his mind racing as he stormed through the castle. The further he went, the angrier he became. How could you do this to him? He thought he was finally feeling something other than disdain toward you—only to find out you were messing with his head.

As he rounded the final corner near the Gryffindor common room, he spotted you. But you weren’t alone. You were talking to another Gryffindor, laughing that same laugh you shared with him. The sight made his blood boil, his fists clenching so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

“Was messing with my head not enough for you?” Theo shouted, his voice filled with fury. “Did you need more attention, so you found another tosser to add to your list?”

You flinched at his sudden outburst but didn’t immediately turn to face him. You quietly excused yourself from the conversation with your housemate before turning to glare at Theo.

The look you gave him was like nothing he’d ever seen on your face before—cold, angry, and so unlike the usual warmth you radiated. It unnerved him to be on the receiving end of such a glare.

“Can I help you, Nott?” you asked, your voice eerily calm. If Theo had been less blinded by his own anger, he might have noticed the tension in your jaw and the way your fists clenched at your sides.

“Yes, you can start by telling me what the hell you did to me!” Theo took a step closer, looming over you in an attempt to intimidate, but you stood your ground, unfazed.

“I haven’t done anything—”

“Don’t lie to me!” Theo interrupted, his hands gripping your shoulders as if shaking you might jog your memory. “You came up with that stupid voodoo doll project, and ever since then, you’ve been in my head day in and day out! So don’t act like you don’t know what’s going on!”

You shoved him off you, your scoff laced with disbelief and hurt. “You’re so full of yourself, Nott. Do you really think I’d waste my time controlling you? What kind of person do you think I am? Do you honestly believe I’m that desperate for attention?”

Tears of frustration welled up in your eyes, but you fought to keep them at bay. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing how much his accusation hurt. “Fuck you, Nott. Maybe you should take a hard look at yourself instead of blaming me for the fact that you’re finally feeling something—anything—other than that cold, emotionless shell you’ve built around yourself.”

Theo stood there, speechless, as you turned and disappeared behind the Fat Lady’s portrait. Every word you said hit him like a punch to the gut. He knew you were right—he’d been pushing people away for so long that he didn’t know how to deal with real emotions. But hearing it from you, someone he had started to care about, hurt more than he could admit. He knew he owed you an apology, but he had no idea where to start.

The walk back to the Slytherin common room was humiliating. When he entered, his friends were in the same spots, waiting with anticipation.

“Well?” Mattheo asked impatiently, a smug grin on his face like he knew he was right all along.

“You lot are absolute wankers,” Theo muttered, snatching up the books he had dropped earlier without sparing them a second glance. He stormed up to his dorm room, ignoring their confused looks.

He had to find a way to make things right with you. The ache in his chest wasn’t just the usual discomfort he felt around you—it was something deeper, something he couldn’t ignore.

———

Theo spent the entire night poring over the books you had lent him. As he read, he realized Mattheo’s theory was complete nonsense. None of the feelings he had for you had anything to do with “voodoo” or any other magical influence. They were real, and they terrified him.

Determined to fix the mess he had made, Theo stayed up to finish the entire essay by himself, lightening your workload. He even turned it in first thing in the morning, two days before the assignment was due.

He spent the rest of the day trying to find you to let you know you didn’t have to worry about the project and to apologize, but you were nowhere to be found. He searched the Great Hall, the library, and even, with great reluctance, asked Potter if he had seen you. No luck.

By the time dinner rolled around, Theo was too distracted to eat. His fork aimlessly pushed food around his plate while his head rested on his palm. Enzo jabbed him in the side, snapping him out of his daze. Theo shot him a glare but followed Enzo’s gaze to see you walking past their table without so much as a glance in their direction. When you sat down at your table, your eyes instinctively met Theo’s, and for a brief moment, he thought he saw a flicker of something softer. He offered a small smile, but you rolled your eyes and turned back to your friends.

“Wow, I don’t think I’ve ever seen her anything but cheerful. She must be pissed that we figured her out, huh?” Enzo commented, eliciting a few laughs from the group.

Theo’s fork clattered onto his plate, the loud noise silencing them immediately. They had seen Theo angry before, but never like this, never directed at them.

“Do you ever think about anyone other than yourselves?” Theo snapped. “She didn’t do anything wrong. What’s wrong is that I listened to you lot and screwed everything up.”

He abruptly stood and made his way over to you. You furrowed your brows in confusion, aware that Slytherins didn’t usually venture to the Gryffindor side of the Great Hall. The hushed whispers that followed Theo didn’t faze him; he only cared about setting things right.

He leaned down and whispered in your ear, asking you to follow him. Despite your better judgment, curiosity got the better of you, and you found yourself following him out of the Great Hall.

Theo led you to a secluded hallway, casting a quick Muffliato charm to ensure privacy. He took a shaky breath, closing his eyes for a moment before finally speaking.

“I’m sorry,” he began, his voice heavy with regret. “I was an absolute tosser. You were right—I’ve never felt anything like this before, and it scared me. I tried to find every excuse to deny it, and in the process, I lashed out at you. I shouldn’t have accused you of something so ridiculous.”

You stared at him, your silence unnerving him. He continued, desperation creeping into his tone. “I know there’s no excuse for what I said, and I understand if you want nothing to do with me anymore. But if there’s any chance, I’d like to start over. I’ll do anything to make it right.”

Maybe it was because you had started liking Theo too, or maybe it was the sincerity in his apology, but it wasn’t hard to forgive him.

“Although getting accused wasn’t ideal and did hurt, I accept your apology, Theodore,” you said, offering him a small smile—the smile he didn’t realize how much he’d missed until now.

Theo’s heart lifted at your words. “If I’m not pushing my luck… could I take you to Hogsmeade this weekend?”

Theo held his breath, anxiously awaiting your response. You hesitated for a moment, the silence stretching between you, before finally stepping closer. With a gentle smile, you leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, your lips lingering just a second longer than necessary. As you pulled back, your eyes met his, filled with a warmth that made his heart race.

“I’d like that,” you whispered, your voice tender and genuine.

For the first time in what felt like forever, Theo felt the tight knot in his chest begin to loosen.

©𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐥 2024

#theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #theo nott x reader #theo nott #theodore nott x you #theo nott x you #slytherin boys #theodore nott fanfic #theo nott fanfic #moons writing ☾

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drabblesandsnippets · 7 months ago

Text

The Bet

Hot Bucky Summer 2024 - Week 1

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Plus-size female character (unnamed)

Prompt: “Louder, let everyone hear you.” | [Screaming/Noisy Sex | Gangbang | Exhibiotionism] @buckybarnesevents

Summary: (7k) Bucky’s girlfriend thinks she can stay quiet during sex - Bucky’s more than happy to prove her wrong.

Warnings: 18+ Only. Fluff. Established relationship. Praise. Brief mention of insecurities. Dirty talk. Domination. Oral (f receiving). Fingering. Squirting. (Unprotected) PiV.

---------------------------

“Wait,” Bucky says, reaching for the remote yet again. “Why does she even care? I thought she hated him.”

Bucky and his girlfriend are cuddling on their king-sized bed, enjoying another quiet night at home - something their friends like to tease them about, but they’ll never change. Home is where all their favorite things are.

The moment Bucky pauses the show - for what feels like the hundredth time since they started the episode - she buries her face against his chest, her groan slightly muffled by his shirt.

Bucky’s laughter gently shakes her body as he asks, “What? I’m trying to understand!”

She picks her head up to glare at him, only slightly frustrated, a smile twitching at the corners of her mouth. “You’d understand if we started from the beginning instead!”

She’s been trying to get him to watch her favorite show for months now, and when he randomly suggested they watch the latest episode tonight, she wasn’t going to argue.

She’s regretting that now.

For someone as intelligent as Bucky, he’s oblivious to the inner workings of TV drama.

Bucky blinks slowly at her response, his eyes wide like she just said they should’ve gone to Sam’s impromptu karaoke party. And then he lets out an incredulous laugh, quick to point out, “There are ten seasons of this show! By the time we get caught up, there will be at least five more.”

Her mouth opens in surprise, and she pushes herself up, one hand on his stomach, her other hand moving to her chest like he’s just wounded her.

“First of all, there are six seasons.” Bucky playfully groans in response, the pout on her face telling him exactly where she’s going with this. “And even if there were ten seasons, you wouldn’t want to watch them with me?”

“Okay.” Bucky’s laughter reaches his eyes as he tosses the remote to the side - it’s clear he’s not going to be pressing play anytime soon.

He looks adoringly at his girlfriend as he sits up with her, his gaze never wavering. “Doll. Sweetheart. Love of my life. I’d enjoy watching paint dry with you.”

Her smile almost breaks through, but she holds back, patiently waiting for him to continue. He’s either about to make too much sense, or he’s about to dig the hole deeper.

After a soft, dramatic sigh, he gently tells her, “But, we haven’t even gotten through this episode, and it’s already been over an hour.”

The moment he says it, he has to hold back his laughter, her response exactly what he’s expecting.

Her mouth drops open again, and she laughs at the ridiculous notion that she’s to blame for their time-management issues.

With a quick shake of her head, and resisting the urge to poke him, she quickly points out, “You keep pausing to ask questions!”

The moment the words are out of her mouth, Bucky seems almost too eager to remind her of several moments that had nothing to do with him. Sure, he’s partly to blame, but most of the interruptions had nothing to do with him.

Like during the first five minutes when she kept getting up because she forgot something. Or when she had to search a familiar looking actor.

“Or,” Bucky continues, his tone gentle, even though he’s clearly enjoying himself. “When you swore you’d heard that one song before-.”

She cuts Bucky off before he can finish the last thought, shoving one of the pillows in his face, his hands quickly deflecting it.

“I get it!” she says, laughing with him as he pulls the pillow away from her before she can attempt to hit him with it again.

His slightly raised eyebrow tells her he’s waiting to see if she’s going to try to defend herself.

“Fine,” she relents, giving him another exaggerated pout that makes him grin. “I guess no marathons for us then.”

She glances at the TV where the episode is still paused before turning her attention back to Bucky, her own grin growing. “At least,” she starts, her eyebrow raising suggestively. “No marathons of the TV variety.”

Bucky laughs, a surge of arousal rushing over him at the mere suggestion, but has to shake his head, the disappointment clear on his face.

With a pointed look, he reminds her, “Sam’s down the hall.”

Sam materialized on their doorstep a couple of days ago to stake claim to their guestroom once again, this time while in the city for a friend’s birthday.

There hadn’t been any objections at the time - and there aren’t any now, as far as Bucky’s concerned.

He really doesn’t care if Sam hears them having sex. It’s not like Bucky’s never overheard him before. But Bucky knows his girlfriend. If she thinks Sam might have heard her, it’ll take her weeks before she’ll be able to be in the same room as him without turning red.

She’s not thinking about any of that, though.

It’s been a few days since there’s even been an opportunity for them to get lost in each other, and she doesn’t want to waste this one.

With a smile and a slight shrug, she simply says, “So? I can be quiet.”

Bucky’s bark of laughter rings out, and she narrows her eyes at him. Before she can even think about it, he quickly grabs the pillow still sitting between them so she can’t throw it at him and instead flings it to the side, making her laugh.

“What?” she asks, still feeling confident in her words. “I can be!”

“No,” Bucky says, trying to hold back his laughter as he shakes his head at her. The simple refusal of her statement makes her lips part in a surprised exhale, but before she can make an argument, he adds, “You are entirely incapable of being quiet, doll.”

He can’t help but lean just a bit closer to whisper, “Especially with me.”

That feels like a challenge to her. And even though she knows Bucky is probably right, she can’t just give in. She’s just as stubborn as he is, and she knows exactly how to play this.

With a quick flick of her tongue to wet her lips, she leans towards him, their mouths almost close enough to touch, and asks, “Wanna bet?”

Her question has the desired effect, causing Bucky’s stomach to flutter with a rush of excitement. She’s a strong, confident, capable woman, and there’s almost nothing she can’t do, especially once she puts her mind to it.

But, there’s not a doubt in his mind that he’ll have her screaming by the end of the night.

Bucky’s hand reaches out to brush a few strands of hair away from her face, his eyes glancing at her mouth as he starts to close the short distance.

Her hope to feel his lips on hers fades quickly, though, Bucky pausing to grin at her, needing to set the terms of their deal first.

“When you lose, we’re finally getting that swing.”

For the briefest of moments, she hesitates. The idea of a sex swing excites her, and it’s something they’ve been discussing for months - even going so far as to choose their favorite - but the intimidating feeling of being on display like that has never faded.

Bucky’s only ever made her feel beautiful, and sexy, and desirable, but that doesn’t mean he can completely erase decades' worth of insecurities.

Bucky doesn’t rush her, not with something like this. He’ll give her all the time in the world to decide if this is a bet she’s willing to take. And if she decides she’s not ready, then he’ll accept that without hesitation, no matter how much he wants her to say yes.

The anticipation is short lived though, because a smile spreads across her face and before she even says, “deal” he’s already hard, imagining how incredible she’ll look suspended and tied up for him, completely at his mercy.

There are so many possibilities, and the sooner he wins, the sooner he gets to make them all a reality.

Her lashes flutter when Bucky’s hand moves along her scalp, his fingers sliding through her hair to softly grip the strands. She allows him tilt her head back, putting her in the perfect position for him to finally kiss her, and she tries to remain patient.

It doesn’t matter, though, because after just a soft brush of his lips against hers, he’s pulling away again, the grin on his face causing her to let out a frustrated sigh.

As much as Bucky wants to just jump right into this with her, the faint taste of her on his lips making his cock twitch, he’s taking this bet seriously.

He meets her gaze, holding her head steady, and says, “We gotta set some ground rules first.”

She breathes heavily but doesn’t move, waiting for him to continue, wanting this just as much as he does.

“No covering your mouth,” he tells her, increasing the hold of her hair, making her gasp softly.

Bucky doesn’t miss the way her thighs tense with arousal, and he groans softly, pulling her closer so his lips brush across the corner of her mouth. “That includes no biting me.”

She lets out a soft exhale of a laugh, but doesn’t object, no matter how much she enjoys sinking her teeth into him when he’s fucking her hard.

And considering this bet and what’s at stake here, there are no plans to go slow tonight.

With a slight nod of her head, his fingers limiting her movement, she agrees, but she’s unable to stop herself from still being a bit of a brat. “Is that all?”

Bucky pulls back, narrowing his eyes at her, his breathing slowing down as he fights the urge to smile. He loves when she pushes back - it’s her way of telling him not to go easy on her.

“No,” he answers her, his vibranium hand suddenly coming up to wrap around her throat.

The brief flash of surprise that crosses her face is quickly replaced by a look of pure desire, her trust in him radiating off of her. It encourages him to keep going, his need for her reaching new heights.

“You’re also not allowed to tell me to stop just because you can’t be quiet.”

Her body tingles with pleasure, just like it always does when he takes charge, and she has to bite back a moan as the ache between her thighs intensifies.

She’s playing with fire, but all it does is excite her, even as she briefly wonders if she has an ounce of a chance of winning this bet.

The moment he asks if she agrees to the terms, she answers without hesitation, telling him, “Yes.”

With a cheeky grin, she adds, “And I look forward to winning.”

That’s all Bucky needs to hear and he pulls her against him, crashing his mouth against hers, his tongue immediately demanding entrance.

With his hand around her throat and his fingers gripping her hair, he keeps her in place so he can kiss her, leaving her breathless and desperate for more.

As much as Bucky enjoys taking his time with her, he’s on a mission tonight.

There’s a primal urge to claim her, to prove how quickly he can make her lose control. And there’s no doubt that he’s going to win this bet.

Within just a couple minutes, Bucky has her naked and writhing underneath him, her head resting on a pillow.

His lips follow a slow trail from her neck to her breasts, taking a moment to focus on her sensitive nipples, giving them both the attention they deserve, his ears trained on the soft noises of pleasure already leaving her.

Her hands never leave his body, needing something to hold onto to keep her focus, her fingers gently tugging at his hair while her other hand grabs at his shoulder, pressing against the defined muscle.

She’s already having to force herself to take slow, deep breaths, the occasional shift of hips causing his hard cock to tease along her wetness, making her want to beg for more.

She remains as quiet as possible though, her eyes drifting closed as Bucky’s mouth travels lower, taking his time to place tender kisses all over her soft stomach, reminding her how much he loves every single inch of her.

He doesn’t even care that she’s not looking at him right now. He’s just grateful for the way she gives herself to him, trusting him to treat her like she deserves.

With one last glance up, Bucky eagerly settles between her thighs, the smell of her filling his nostrils, making his mouth water.

The soft groan that leaves him makes her hips twitch, and he pauses for a second to take her in, both hands coming up to keep her spread wide for him.

She’s already so wet, the sight of her swollen clit just begging to be licked, and he can’t wait to hear her come apart for him.

The first slow swipe of his tongue along her slit causes her body to tense, the sudden sensation making her breath hitch, almost making her forget all about the bet.

Bucky learned her body so quickly when they first became intimate, and now, the familiar swirl of his tongue around her clit immediately makes her back arch, a moan getting trapped in her throat.

He loves the taste of her, happy to spend as much time between her thighs as she lets him, and even though that’s not what tonight is about, he still takes a moment to appreciate the delicious meal she’s offering him.

He alternates between long licks, and fucking her with his tongue, grinding his soft beard against her pussy to get as deep as he can, as if starved for more of her.

Despite Bucky’s own noises of pleasure getting louder, hers remain low, and it’s not long before the desire to hear her scream builds inside of him again.

Without warning, his mouth suddenly closes over her clit, his tongue resuming the perfect rhythm against the bundle of nerves and his hands grips her thighs, holding her in place.

She cuts off the harsh gasp that spills out of her, and her fingers tighten their grip on his hair as her hips move against his mouth, chasing her pleasure.

Despite half her focus on keeping her sounds under control, he’s still able to quickly bring her to the edge, and her other hand grips the bedsheet as the tension suddenly snaps.

As much as it turns Bucky on to watch her and feel her come for him, there’s something wrong about not hearing her as she loses control.

He refuses to pull away though, his mouth working her through her orgasm, his hands holding her, letting her ride out the waves. His own hips grinding against the mattress, his cock hard and heavy, aching for relief.

When she becomes too sensitive, he takes pity on her and quickly kisses back up her body, giving her a moment to catch her breath.

Her need for him is too overwhelming though, and within seconds, she meets him in a kiss, moaning at the taste of herself on his tongue.

She doesn’t allow herself to get lost in the moment for too long, her body craving more, and she reaches between them, her fingers wrapping around his thick cock, ready to remind him that she still has a chance of winning this bet.

Bucky welcomes her touch, his hips thrusting forward, groaning against her mouth.

She takes advantage of his pleasure-filled state, rubbing her thumb across the head of his cock, the tip slick with his arousal, and proudly states, “I told you I could be quiet.”

The laugh he makes in return sends a shiver down her back, and she can barely quiet the soft squeak as he pulls her hand away, his fingers wrapped around her delicate wrist.

He’s always careful not to cause her any real discomfort, but the look he gives her still makes her freeze, wondering what she’s gotten herself into.

“Oh sweetheart,” Bucky chuckles, slowly pinning her hands over her head as he starts to grind his cock against her. “We’re barely getting started.”

Her body tenses in anticipation, expecting him to thrust inside of her, but he doesn’t change his pace, his eyes taking in how beautiful she looks, all desperate and needy, her skin flushed.

Even after all this time with him, she’s still not used to all the attention he gives her, and she’s grateful that he allows her to move with him.

Each shift of her hips makes her breath quicken just a bit more, the length of his cock sliding along her clit, and she’s pretty sure she could come just like this.

The thought of it makes her body pulse with arousal, and she quickly nods her head, breathing quickly. “Please,” she whispers, her fingers flexing under his hold.

He grins down at her, tightening his grip slightly, keeping the same pace, watching her fight between completely giving in and trying to silence her noises.

Bucky wants the noises. He needs them. He needs to hear her whines and moans and cries as he brings her pleasure.

She’s clearly determined to win this, but so is he. And the moment he feels her almost reaching the edge, he suddenly stops, pulling his hips out of reach of her.

She has no idea how, but she manages to keep the whine of “no” down, her voice almost betraying her. Bucky’s soft laughter helps keep her focused, though, and she glares at him, breathing heavily.

Her mouth opens in protest, but before she can even think of how to react, his vibranium hand closes around her throat, pushing her down against the bed.

“Oh god,” is all she can say, her voice trembling as she tries to mentally prepare herself for whatever Bucky has planned.

He knows her too well though, and the moment he moves, she almost loses the bet.

His right hand slides between her thighs, and in one smooth motion, he fills her with two fingers, curling them inside of her to press against her front wall.

She bites her lip hard enough to almost draw blood, but she’s able to dampen her cry of pleasure as she throws her head back, both hands now gripping the sheet.

Bucky gives her no time to gather her composure before he starts moving, the heel of his hand rubbing hard against her clit while his fingers stroke over her g-spot.

She may not be speaking, but her body is talking, the sounds of her wetness filling the air. He growls his approval and leans over her, his metal fingers twitching against her throat.

“Listen to that,” he murmurs, watching her as he quickly works her towards another orgasm. “Your pussy’s talking to me, doll. Just begging for more.”

She pulls her lips inward between her teeth, biting down as she breathes heavily through her nose, the pleasure starting to make it harder to focus.

His words aren’t making it any easier, but she’s grateful that he doesn’t make her look at him, her eyes currently shut tight, her head pressing into the pillow underneath her.

There’s something so intoxicating to Bucky about being in charge of her pleasure, and he knows he’ll never get enough of her.

For just a moment, he forgets about the bet, his eyes taking in the way she writhes underneath his touch, everything about her encouraging him to keep going. Her back arching, her legs spread, hips thrusting in time with his hand as he fucks her deep and hard.

Except, she’s still keeping her noises to a minimum. Even as she starts to breathe quicker, the gasps turning to shuddering sighs, she manages to somehow keep it all under control.

And it’s starting to get under Bucky’s skin. He can’t be a gracious loser when it comes to this.

That primal feeling resurfaces in Bucky, the urge to take her hard and fast igniting inside of him. But, first, he needs to make her come again.

He quickly moves his left hand down her body, pressing hard against her clit, giving him the ability to fuck her harder with his fingers.

Her eyes roll back in her head, and she nearly screams, his fingers deep inside of her, curled and rubbing hard against the spongy tissue.

She can feel the pressure building, and she grabs her legs, her hands wrapping around her ankles to keep her spread wide for Bucky.

“That’s it,” he encourages her, just as breathless as she is, his body humming with pleasure. “Can feel you, sweetheart,” he moans, grinding harder against her clit, knowing exactly what she needs to get over the edge. “Doing so good for me. Gonna come all over my fingers, aren’t you?”

She quickly nods her head, but she can’t trust herself to speak. She can barely breathe anyway as her fingers dig into her ankles, the slight pain giving her something to focus on, reminding her of the stakes here.

She’s so overwhelmed, and he hasn’t even fucked her with his cock yet. She has no idea how she’s going to win this bet.

She can’t think about that right now though, because her entire body suddenly tenses, and she squirts, coating his hand with her juices.

She barely hears Bucky’s groan of approval, but his words of praise quickly flood her brain, and she comes for him, using every bit of energy to not cry out.

“Good girl. Fuck, look at you,” his deep voice adds to the pleasure still washing over her and she lets go of her ankles to reach out for Bucky, needing him.

He quickly joins her, resting some of his weight on top of her, letting her cling to him as her body shudders, her hips riding his fingers.

“You feel so fucking good,” he murmurs against her neck, his fingers buried deep inside of her, savoring the way her pussy pulses with each wave of pleasure. “I think I should I make you come again, just like this.”

He’s only half-serious, his cock aching to be inside of her.

Her expected whine makes him laugh, and he curls his fingers inside of her again, easily finding that spot that makes her tremble.

She’s still sensitive from her orgasm, but her mind is starting to clear, and she immediately shakes her head. “Absolutely not.” Another breathy moan, and then, “I think you should let me suck your cock.”

Bucky groans, allowing himself to briefly consider it, but kisses her softly and tells her no.

As much as they both enjoy when he fucks her mouth, it’s not going to help him win this bet. Her mouth needs to be free to make all those beautiful noises.

“I think you’re forgetting the point here, doll.” he teases, sitting up between her thighs and slowly sliding his fingers out of her dripping pussy.

She doesn’t even try to stop the soft whine from the loss, and he grins at her, watching her as he lifts his fingers to his mouth, licking the delicious taste off both digits.

The sight of him clearly enjoying himself makes her want to bring him more pleasure, and she leans up to kiss him again, welcoming the taste of her wetness on his lips and tongue.

When her teeth playfully bite at his bottom lip, his fingers tangle in her hair to pull her head back, meeting her grin with one of his own.

“How about I put my cock somewhere else?”

The smile on her face grows, despite her slight disappointment at not getting to have him in her mouth. And as Bucky rests back on his knees, she slides her hands down to touch herself, giving him an even better view of her wet pussy.

The action immediately makes him groan, and his hands move to her ankles, gripping them to steady himself. After all this time, she still has the ability to catch him off guard, and it makes him love her even more.

They both watch as he moves his hips forward to slide his cock along her slick slit, almost slipping inside her before gliding up to tease her exposed clit.

The movement sends a jolt of pleasure through both of them, and she lets out a soft whine, shifting her hips to try to guide him to where he needs to be.

It’s futile, though. Bucky’s doing this on purpose. Trying to make her forget the bet, but she keeps herself under control, breathing heavily through her nose, proving to him she’s just as dedicated as he is.

With a longing look on her face, and another shift of her hips, she pleads, “Fuck me.”

Bucky’s fingers tighten around her ankles, but he stays exactly where he is, continuing to tease her with the head of his cock. “You sure you’re ready?”

His gentle tone makes her laugh softly, but he shakes his head at her, his eyes dark with desire.

“I’m serious, doll.” His breathing is just as heavy as hers, his body tense from trying to control himself. “I’m planning to fuck you until you scream for me.”

She’s far from making objections, her need for him overwhelming. As if he needs any more encouragement, she licks her lips and raises her brow at him, declaring yet again, “I’m going to win this bet.”

His laugh sends another shiver down her spine and a pulse of pleasure straight to her clit. There’s no way she’s winning this bet, but she’s going to have fun losing.

Bucky angles his hips, their bodies fitting together perfectly, and as the tip of his cock pushes against her entrance, he tells her, “Arms over your head.”

She narrows her eyes at him but doesn’t question it, knowing there’s a good reason for it. And she’s excited to find out what it is.

The moment her hands grip the pillow under her head, he smirks at her and snaps his hips, burying himself inside of her.

A harsh gasp leaves her, but it’s not loud enough to make her lose and she throws her head back, biting her lips to keep her mouth shut as he starts to fuck her hard.

Bucky pushes her legs back, spreading her wider as he finds a quick rhythm. His own noises of pleasure get louder, but he does nothing to quiet them.

He knows how much she craves the sounds he makes, the pleasure she gives him like nothing he’s ever experienced.

“Oh fuck,” he groans, trying not to squeeze her ankles too hard, “you feel so good, baby. So wet, oh my god.”

She can’t look at him. She clings to the pillow underneath her, her forearms cradling her head as she does everything in her power not to cry out. His cock feels so good inside of her, reaching all the spots that make her toes curl and her body shudder in pleasure.

Bucky is more than desperate to hear more from her. The soft gasps and whimpers doing nothing to quell the ache to experience her pleasure at its fullest.

He’s used to her cries and moans filling the room, and while everything about her is telling him she’s enjoying herself, it’s not nearly enough.

“Stay just like that,” he orders her, sliding his hands down, squeezing her thick thighs as keeps moving, his hips never faltering.

She’s in no mood to disobey, willingly letting him fuck her towards yet another orgasm. Bucky can feel her tightening, her walls trying to keep him in place on each outstroke.

“That’s it. You wanna come for me again? Wanna come all over my cock?”

She can’t trust her voice and all she can do is nod her head, finally opening her eyes to look up at him.

He immediately growls and leans forward, letting her thighs spread around him as his hands go to her bouncing tits, making her back arch, allowing him even deeper.

Bucky curses again, her wetness allowing him to bottom out each time, and he can feel his own orgasm building, the sight of her writhing underneath him almost too much.

“Fuck,” he growls, his right hand moving to her stomach, loving the feel of his fingers digging into her soft flesh, his hips never slowing. “You feel so good. Come on, come for me, doll, let me feel you.”

All it takes is one brush of his thumb over clit and she comes again, her fingers sore from her tight grip the pillow. But all she can focus on is the electric current of pleasure rushing through her, the tension causing her to clench her teeth.

She resists the urge to press her face against her arm, and somehow manages to make it through the intense pleasure with only making soft, breathy moans.

It’s at this point that something in Bucky snaps.

He fucks her through the waves of pleasure, waiting until her body finally starts to relax, before he suddenly pulls out.

The whine she makes is louder than all the sounds she’s made tonight, and she opens her mouth in surprise, looking up at him with wide eyes.

“I’m not quite done with you yet,” he promises her, the gruffness of his voice making her hips shift.

Bucky chuckles softly and runs his hands over her body, his fingers dancing over her throat before sliding down between her breasts.

Before he does anything else, he checks in with her. “You ready to keep going?”

Her words come easy this time. “Yes, please," she smiles, lifting her hips again as if to entice him.

He has other plans though, and instructs her to turn over, the roughness of his voice returning. The excitement on her face is clear as she quickly obeys, getting into position - head down, ass up.

Bucky takes a moment to appreciate the view, the desire to claim her burning him up. He controls his breathing and reaches out, running his palm along her back and down to her ass, relishing the way she immediately spreads her thighs even more.

“Good girl,” he praises her, his voice deep with admiration. And then he slaps her ass, hard enough to make her gasp, and she turns her head to look over her shoulder at him.

They grin at each other, and he does it again, making her groan softly, but she pushes back, welcoming the sting.

Bucky’s hand rubs across the pinkening skin as his metal hand slips between her thighs, teasing her with his fingertips.

She’s more than ready for him to keep fucking her, but he still asks again, needing to hear her give him permission one final time.

As soon as she utters the soft plea of ‘yes, please’ he’s lining up behind her, his hand wrapped around his thick shaft to guide himself back to her welcoming pussy.

He wastes no time and sinks into her with a soft groan, her hot, slick walls enveloping his hard cock like she was made for him.

Bucky takes her slowly at first, the feel of her pussy fluttering with each long stroke of his cock making it difficult to focus.

She’s so sensitive, and with each deep thrust, her soft noises start to get just a bit louder, reminding him he’s on the right track.

His tender touches start to become a bit firmer, and as her hips begin to meet his with more force, he suddenly grips her waist.

Bucky plans to do whatever it takes to elicit louder noises from her, and without warning, he starts to piston his hips, making her take all of him, over and over.

This time she’s expecting it though and has just enough time to grit her teeth, each thrust making her gasp, her breath coming quick and shallow.

It’s taking all of her focus not to give in and let herself lose the bet already; she’s just too stubborn to give in, no matter how good Bucky is making her feel.

The irritation grows in Bucky, her lack of noise starting to feel personal, and his hands move to her hips, grabbing fistfuls of her ass as he starts to fuck her harder.

He watches as her back arches and her fingers grip the bedsheets, each deep thrust causing her legs start to shake again. She’s almost there. He can feel it.

She whines his name, and her hands scramble to grip the edge of the mattress, keeping her head turned, refusing to bury her face in the covers.

“Oh sweetheart,” he murmurs, the tenderness a stark contrast to the way he’s fucking her. “Gonna squirt for me again, aren’t you?”

All she can do is nod her head, her eyes shut tight, trying her best to keep her noises under control. But, with each thrust of his cock, she feels herself slipping, her skin breaking out in a light sheen of sweat.

It’s like a breath of fresh air to Bucky, watching as she starts to slowly lose control.

Any other time, he might take it easy on her, wanting her to be proud of herself for doing something she didn’t think she could do.

But, he’s way past that point now.

Now, all he wants is to make her lose control and scream for him. And he has one more trick up his sleeve.

Bucky’s strong hands slide up along her back as he raises himself up, placing his feet flat on the bed in order to crouch over her, keeping his cock buried inside of her.

“Oh god,” she breathes, her eyes rolling back in her head as she tries to prepare herself.

She loves this position, but it’s going to be her downfall. And it’s clear Bucky knows it, because the moment he starts moving his hips, he starts talking to her, the growl in his voice pushing her closer to the edge.

“That’s right. Told you I was gonna fuck you until you scream for me.”

He fucks her hard, the angle making his cock rub against her g-spot with each stroke, and she can feel the coil in her belly tightening.

She can no longer stop her noises from getting louder, and without thinking, she makes a desperate move to regain some semblance of composure.

With a quick pull of her elbows, she buries her face between her forearms, trying to quiet the cry of pleasure as she reaches a breaking point.

Bucky won’t allow it though, and grabs a fistful of her hair, forcing her head to the side.

“Fucking take it,” he demands, grunting with each hard thrust, “fucking take all of me.”

It’s too much. She can’t hold on anymore and her body tenses, her tightening pussy almost pushing him out.

“That’s it!” he growls. “Come for me, baby! God, I love you so fucking much.”

She sobs as her stomach tenses and she squirts, each hard thrust causing her wetness to run down her thighs and soak the sheets.

He talks her through it, like he always does, telling her how beautiful she is, how good she feels, and how much he loves making her come for him.

Even as her body pulses from the aftershocks, Bucky keeps going, slowing his pace as he settles back to his knees behind her, trying to help her come down slowly.

She was loud, but not enough to satisfy his need to hear her scream.

“I need you to give me one more,” he murmurs, running his hands along her sweaty back.

She whispers his name and shakes her head, her trembling limbs trying to give out on her.

Bucky’s quick to guide her onto her back again, this time slipping a pillow underneath to raise her hips.

He’s already fucked her senseless - she’s barely able to keep her eyes open - but he knows she has one more to give him.

Bucky starts slow again, giving her time to come back down, waiting until she can finally look up at him, still clearly cock-drunk.

He murmurs words of praise, telling her once again how beautiful she is, splayed out like this for him, her arms over her head, her thighs spread wide.

“You’re gonna look so good in that swing, sweetheart. All tied up and on display for me.”

Whatever insecurities that usually run through her mind are absent, and she moans at his words, starting to slowly move her hips against him, welcoming his cock back inside of her.

The image of being completely at his mercy makes her body pulse, and Bucky smiles down at her, sliding his hands along the sensitive skin of her thighs, just taking another moment to truly appreciate her.

At this point, it doesn’t matter how he makes her come. She’s going to scream for him either way, all her inhibitions now gone that the bet is over.

And that frees him up to give her everything she could possibly need. “Tell me how you wanna come this time.”

She breathes heavily and just slowly shakes her head for a moment, still not sure she has anything left to give.

But, if there’s anyone that can pull it out of her it’s Bucky.

He waits patiently, fucking her slowly, barely pulling out before sliding back in until he’s completely sheathed. “Do you want me to keep fucking you like this?”

His fingers slowly move to her pussy, watching the way her body takes him so perfectly as his thumb finds her clit.

“Or do you need something else?”

The shaking of her head turns into nods and she tries to find her voice as her back arches, her body welcoming the intense pleasure.

Her body is so sensitive, like every nerve ending is exposed, and she’s still not sure what she needs. Bucky will give her whatever she asks for, but she’s too lost in the moment to answer him.

As much as he’s enjoying the unfiltered sounds coming out of her, he needs her to talk. He needs to know she’s still with him, that she truly wants him to keep going.

“Sweetheart.”

There’s a slight edge to his tone, and she meets his eyes again, a soft smile forming on her face.

He grins down at her and nods encouragingly, “I need your words.”

She nods again, but as she starts to say “I want-” her words are cut off by a soft whine, Bucky’s cock bottoming out inside of her, finding that spot that makes her legs shake.

They both laugh softly, and she shakes her head at him before she finally finishes her thought, “I want you to come with me.”

A deep moan leaves Bucky at her request, his grip on her thighs tightening as he resists the urge to start moving faster.

“Is that what you need?” he asks, starting to lean forward, peppering kisses along her breasts and collarbone.

Her answer of ‘yes’ comes quickly and he starts to rock against her, grinding his pelvis against her clit.

“Yes,” she repeats, the simple word causing pleasure to race up Bucky’s spine.

He drops to his elbows, caging her in, and they both start moving at the same time, her legs wrapped around him, encouraging his hard thrusts.

“Yes, fuck me, oh my god.” She doesn’t care how loud she is anymore, the cries and moans leaving her without a second thought.

Bucky’s already close, her pussy practically milking his cock, each flutter making him groan. But, he’s a man of his word and he’s not going to let himself give into the pleasure until she comes one more time.

“You feel so fucking good,” he moans, panting above her, unable to tear his gaze away, committing this moment to memory. “Such a perfect pussy, baby. Just made to take my cock.”

She clings to him, her nails scratching down his back, sure to leave marks. But he welcomes it, the sting adding to his pleasure, watching as she cries out, her body starting to tense, her final orgasm building.

When she whines his name, he hears the apprehension in her voice, as if to warn him that this one’s going to overwhelm her.

Bucky’s fingers slide through her hair, and he cradles her head, forcing her to keep looking at him.

“It’s okay,” he promises her. “Give it to me. Give me everything.” Her back arches and her pussy tightens, the sounds of her wetness filling the air as she starts to squirt again. “Fuck yes, come for me!”

And she does, her breath hitching as the sudden explosion of pleasure rocks her body.

Bucky doesn’t stop, moving hard and fast against her, forcing his cock to stay inside of her, even as her walls clench around him, almost pushing him out.

She cries out, finally giving him what he’s been working towards all night, her scream of pleasure sure to wake the neighbors.

Bucky can barely hold back, his own orgasm threatening to consume him, but he fights through it, giving her a few more seconds of his attention.

“That’s it, scream for me. Let everyone fucking hear you.”

But then she’s begging him to come too, her sobs of pleasure pushing him over the edge, and he kisses her hard, his tongue sliding along hers.

All his senses are consumed by her, every single part of him entirely overwhelmed with pleasure, the rhythm of his hips faltering as his cock pulses, filling her up with his cum.

After a few more lazy thrusts, their hips finally come to a stop, and he groans against her mouth, collapsing on top of her.

They’re both panting, their arms wrapped around each other, Bucky’s weight a welcome feeling as he starts to nuzzle her neck, breathing in her scent.

They take their time coming back down, murmuring words of love and affection, their lips eventually meeting again in a soft, tender kiss.

She barely registers him rolling them over, but makes a soft noise of protest when he slowly pulls out.

Bucky’s own sigh joins hers, the loss of her warmth making his softening cock twitch. If it wasn’t so late, and she wasn’t clearly spent, he’d happily go another round.

For now, they snuggle quietly, her head resting on his chest, listening to his heartbeat while his fingers make slow, soothing strokes along her back.

Bucky’s sensitive ears pick up the steady rhythm of her heart as well, the sound a constant comfort to him even on his hardest days.

Eventually, they finally move, sharing another brief kiss and exchanging words of love yet again, neither of them ever tiring of hearing it - or professing it to each other.

But, they need to clean up, his release still leaking out of her, leaving her slick - and he’s not much better off, their combined fluids matting the hair at the base of his cock.

Bucky’s first to finish in the attached bathroom, and he’s already in bed when she returns, the covers pulled up to his stomach, his phone in his hands.

The silly grin on his face makes her laugh, and she climbs onto the bed, asking him, “What are you up to?”

He gives her a quick glance, his bright smile making her heart flutter as he returns his attention back to his phone.

“I’m purchasing that sex swing.”

---------------------------

The Prize

Hot Bucky Summer Masterlist

Main Masterlist

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lynaferns · 25 days ago

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Redraw (well, third attempt) of an old drawing from 2022.

Alright, this is a big one, so, PC users: left click the image, right click the image, open in another tab, zoom and see all the details you want.

Phone users: press down on the image, download, find image in your phone gallery, it will download at full quality so you can zoom and see all the details.

The fancy stars and the inside of the piano were a pain in the ass, everything else went pretty smoothly, or at least the average complications. I'm proud of how I mixed the colors in the piano. I was convinced I'd end up making a mess but it turned out nice.

Once again, this is finished because I decided so. I have no energy to make the final look I had in mind.

The piano alone, close ups (cuz the jpeg won't let you zoom at the very max and that sucks, so I screenshot from my art program) and an idea for an AU + youtube playlist I made that I relate too much to the AU under the cut. vvv

SO!

This was never supposed to be an AU, and I probably won't do anything regardless, but I got the idea while I was working on it last month. And since I have a liiiiiiittle basic knowledge of music and experience, specially in piano... well...

I had bad experiences learning music as a child so probably the story would reflect on that lol.

An old astral auditorium that's abandoned and in ruins during the day and gets all shiny and nice at night when it's illuminated by the light of the stars.

Sun, Moon and Eclipse are in charge of the place, they do their best at keeping the place standing… and are the main musicians that play for the stars every month, once or twice. The day and night transformation affects them too.

Violet (y/n that's not really a y/n at this point) is a young altruist and selftaugth violinist (yeah yeah, I'm very original with the names, hush) that came across this old auditorium. She starts visiting the brothers to play music during the day and decides to join them in the auditions to play for the stars, and help them modernize a little bit to attract human audience too.

The brothers play several instruments to be able to acompany each other if necesary buuut they each have a "favourite". Sun mainly Piano, Moon mainly Harp (can also play piano and viola to accompany Sun) and Eclipse can play any instrument Sun and Moon can and more, but likes accordion :)

Sun is the most strict one when it's about playing music even though he likes to mess around with songs and improvise during day hours when no body is around, but will feel guilty afterwards... Moon is a gremlin that likes messing up and playing with the instruments in ways you are not supposed to (like using the viola bow as a sword). Eclipse is easy going and will match the energy of their brothers while keeping them out of trouble. Clip doesn't really like playing for the auditorium and prefers improvising silly songs alone or with Sun and Moon.

You can ask me about this AU if it got you curious, I'll be glad to answer!

I still want to make the MC design at least. And maybe some sketch comics if I have the energy for it.

#my art #lyna arts #dca au #Astral Auditorium AU #drawing #artwork #ilustration #fnaf daycare attendant #piano #fnaf sun #fnaf moon #fnaf eclipse #sundrop #moondrop

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inarvii · 8 months ago

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₊˚.- NEEDLES AND PINS

Patience breeds success. However, Dr. Veritas Ratio's patience has successfully run thin when it comes to the Intelligentsia Guild's new professor.

Dr. Ratio hate reads about you.

wc - 3.4k

A/N - Basically a Dr. Ratio character study, inspired by the Deftones song Needles and Pins.

Veritas Ratio was a Needle.

At least, that is what he saw himself as. He was sharp, precise, and calculated. One had to be in this world full of ignorant minds.

His known prestige amongst scholars was by no accident. Every equation, formula, and theory engraved into his mind was nothing he didn’t want there. His reputation at the Intelligentsia Guild was by no fault other than his own. And he liked it this way.

So when Dr. Veritas Ratio’s curiosity peaks, he will seek out information regardless of what stands in his way. It just so happens that the rumor of a Genius Society member abandoning their ranking to join the Intelligence Guild not only piques his interest but puzzles him quite a bit.

Everything Veritas Ratio has ever done—ever accomplished was with intent. That’s just what a needle does.

And as he reads the passage before him in the worn textbook he fished out of the bookshelves at his university, he intends to figure out your perplexing nature.

“…and discovered five different constellations that are now crucial to Intercosmic Space Travel, earning the name of the ‘Star Lit Genius’ just after finishing her Associates.”

- Excerpt from Exploring the Starlit Genius

A fool.

Ratio closes the bulky biography with a booming thud. The echo can be heard bouncing off the walls of his office.

That is what you were. That is your nature.

A fool is the only description he can think of as he sharply brings his fingers to his lips. Questions bubble inside him, but the one that escapes himself is, “Why?”

Why would anyone do such a thing? The mere thought that someone could leave the Genius Society was baffling. Sure, there probably were some that had left, but that had to be Amber Eras in the past.

It wasn’t ignorance it was foolishness. Perhaps he was right about Genius Society members having a rock up their asses. There was truly nothing that separated them from the mundane, such as himself. They were just as equally subjected to idiocy.

But could you do such a thing?

You. A scholar blessed by Nous! Given a chance—an opportunity.

He scoffs, his head jerking to the side as if catching himself in an act.

He shouldn’t care.

He doesn’t care.

He’s over that.

Ratio sighs and shakes his head. He doesn’t care. You were foolish, that’s all. It was nothing more.

But who might this fool be?

Ratio’s cold finger travels around the textbook's hardcover. He quickly flips through the pages. Frustration is evident on his face as his brows furrow the more pages he turns.

Yet, there’s nothing.

There’s not one picture of you—the fool—that perplexes his mind. Of course, there wouldn’t be. The Genius Society's “holy” standing wouldn’t allow that. So, he’ll just have to wait for the day he meets the deluded “genius.”

“Immediately after finishing her Associates, the Star Lit Genius earned funds from the IPC for her findings, causing the young brilliant mind to venture more deeply into the cosmos.”

- Excerpt form Exploring the Starlit Genius

Time had passed and life went on. It had been a month since Veritas’ initial read of your biography. He had learned much. Such as your main fields of anatomy, pathology, chemistry and of course astronomy. Little details of your past are stored neatly in the back of the Doctor’s mind, but he has had no use for it. The new semester had started and as time went on he too started to carry on. Students plagued his mind instead, yet a star glittered somewhere near.

“Dr. Ratio.”

It’s no voice he’s familiar with. Or maybe one he’s just not accustomed to yet. Most likely a new student in one of his classes.

He doesn’t even bother to look up. Instead he continues to shuffle through his papers with equations and calculations of the new curriculum that he would soon ignore altogether in his lessons.

He sighs. “Students are to ask questions during the appointed time.” His voice lacks any interest whatsoever.

He was tired of students who seemed to think they were special. If anything, the unfamiliar voice is probably a student coming to butter him up before the semester starts to get on his good side.

“Oh, I’m not a student.” Your voice isn’t familiar, but the syllables that roll off your tongue are ever engraved into his mind. His inner consciousness has read the name so much that he can envision the letters.

Before he looks up, a smug grin shows on his face. Finally, he could put the foolish mind to the face. It was a gift, really. You, coming straight to his door. You had done all the work for him.

But then he takes his first look at you.

Veritas Ratio isn’t one to be rendered speechless, but his surprise is evident. His grin drops at the sight of you. Before, he had imagined that he should have put on his mask of marble to forbid his eyes from the sight of such a foolish person. But now his frustrations were fueled even more by the undeniable fact that a fool could look like…you.

“Professor Alvarez said you would be the person to go to regarding any Physics textbooks,” you say, and Ratio comes back to reality as your voice vibrates around the large space. You stand in the wide door frame, hands held together in front of you.

“Ah,” he chokes out. “Our new professor.” He quickly gets up to walk to the bookshelf behind him to rid the sight of you. His steps are light but eager; however, his back stands straight, and his head is held high. This was it? This was the fool he had read about? What a pity, he thinks as he climbs a few steps up the ladder of the bookshelf. Looks wasted on a simpleton.

Ratio tries to change the topic of conversation while trying not to show his evident surprise. “Say, what does an astronomer have that warrants the need for physics?” He questions.

You're quick to answer. “Well, the two are connected, I’m sure you’re aware.”

He is aware—he’s well aware. But he’s also aware of his unwelcomed knowledge of your hatred for anything purely mathematical in any sense, especially physics, which you loathe the most. He even remembers the page clearly in chapter twenty-six, section fou—but that's beside the point. His ever-growing facts about you are a card he cannot yet play. He has only gazed at you for a mere eight seconds. So for now, he will keep his mouth shut.

“I am,” he says confidently, a slight hint of offense in his voice. “Professors here, however usually tend to their specific fields rather than branching off.” His fingers trace the spine of the dusty books before carefully selecting one and then another.

“One of my students is infatuated by the correlation of the two. It’s something that I had no interest in during my years of studying.” The sound of you shuffling your feet bounces off the walls. “I’m forced to learn now I suppose.”

“Whatever for? You’re no physicist,” he scoffs. His hand lingers around a book as he debates himself in his mind.

“To answer my students' questions, of course,” you answer without a second thought.

A genius interested in the pursuit of other’s knowledge. Ratio’s frustrations physically manifest in the form of a silent sigh. An anomaly you were. An Irritating one at that.

He picks up the book.

He doesn’t say anything as he descends the ladder—or when he walks to where you stand with an uninterested look on his face. He simply plops the books in your hands with a quick “Here.” Their weight jolts you down briefly.

“Some of these are limited or editor's copies.” His eyes meet yours for the first time since you came in. “Do try not to dirty them.”

He turns to walk back to his desk, but the sound of your voice stops him.

“Which is your favorite?”

Ratio turns to walk back to you as he looks you up and down. His fingers fish between the books in your arms, and he pulls out one. It’s encased in golden leather. He lifts it up to hold it out in front of you.

Your hand grazes the hardcover. You look at it, eying the author. ‘Professor Emeritus.’ You look up at him with a hint of playfulness in your eyes. It makes him uneasy—like the breath has been sucked out of his lungs. But then you have the nerve to smile at him, and he can feel himself getting hot.

“Thank you,” you say, and you turn away.

His mind races. His heart beats a bit faster. It’s only when the click of your heels are out of earshot and when the doctor is trying to recover in his desk chair that he realizes he’s forgotten to tell you when to bring them back.

“...the only way to transcend the limitations of the individual is to have an academic network of mutual learning.”

- Intelligentsia Guild

He ignores you.

That’s not to say he doesn't see you. Of course, he does. How could one not see you? It has turned into a game over the past two weeks. He must spot you first to make sure you do not spot him.

So he does just that.

He has no use conversing with a Genius Society member turned idiot. He simply gave you those books to help the students you were teaching, nothing more.

So he carries on with his usual routine of avoiding you. Until, there’s a pile of books with ribbon wrapped around them at his office door. But there’s only three of them.

Ratio quickly picks up the stack of books and unlocks his office door. When at his desk, he finally notices the note placed neatly between the book and ribbon.

Thank you for letting me borrow these. They were very insightful. I have saved your recommendation for last. I will bring it back once I have finished it.

He examines your handwriting—your signature—and how the way you write your A’s and H’s differ from him.

As Ratio revels in the fact that you took his word at face value, he examines the books. His fingers caress the covers and flip through the pages.

You made sure not to dirty them.

“To grow and excel as a Scholar is to reconsider. A Hypothesis that is drawn due to stubbornness and ignorance is a hypothesis from no mind worth listening to.”

- Professor Emeritus in “Attentive Beings”

“Come in,” Ratio replies to the three knocks on his study door. This time, he looks up from his reading as soon as he hears the heels click on the polished wooden floor.

You smile at him—book held in hand.

He greets you with another disinterested look as he turns his head back to the papers in front of him. “Did you enjoy it?”

“I certainly did,” you call out. Although he doesn’t look at you, he can hear you walk slowly around his office. He lets out a sigh as he writes down something.

But then your heels click too close to the round table by the window in the corner of his study, and his mouth grows dry. He looks up as he watches you eye the books he had left open on the table, and put the book you had borrowed down. Your fingernails graze the papers slowly, and you turn the page.

“You read about me?”

Ratio’s throat closes up at your question as he scurries to organize the files and loose sheets of paper before him just to occupy his hands. He puts a fist to his lips and clears his throat. “I simply wanted to know more about the new Professor who would teach some of my former students,” he affirms boldly.

“It’s okay.” your eyes lift up from the pages and turn to him with a smile. “I read about you too.”

He’s not surprised. He shouldn’t be surprised. Any good scholar would do that. But something stirs inside him still. His stomach flips from…excitement. This odd feeling goes unnoticed by you as the doctor quickly covers himself with his swift response “Is that so?”

“Mhm,” you hum. You grab the book and slowly make your way closer and closer to his desk—to him. “You’re quite the mathematician,” you smile. “…and philosopher.”

His arms fold and his eyes trail your figure as you approach.

“So tell me, after reading this thing.” You hold up the book. “What’s your ‘philosophy’ on me?”

He sits there in silence looking at you.

“Please, Doctor,” you smirk. “Tell us your verdict on the new professor.”

He’s still hesitant. But the look you give him is like fire on his skin, and he wants to rid of it. So he speaks. “Fine, if you must know.” He lets out an exasperated sigh.

“You’re a fool. Through and through.”

“Is that so?”

“The evidence is clear.”

“Do elaborate, Doctor.”

He sighs again. What has he gotten himself into? “You’re an astronomer.”

“That I am,” you smirk. Oh, he hates that smirk of yours. That smile of yours. That face of yours.

“You’re an astronomer that hates physics.” Ratio stand subtly and makes his was round his desk to you. “Quite absurd actually.” He crosses his arms and you shift your body to look him in the eye. “You have no interest in anything mathematical when math is the foundation of all that ever was and will ever be.”

“Mhmm.” And there’s that smirk again as you look up at him.

“You’ve done mounds of research, and any organization would want you.” His voice is booming and stern as if he were lecturing one of his students. “Yet, you pick the IPC of all things to give your work to.”

You're a star, you blaze. Yet you choose to be mediocre like him. It's infuriating.

You nod, and he takes a step closer to you. His brows furrow in frustration, and his finger points down at you.

“And the cherry on top is that you’ve chosen to stray from the Erudition and-“

“Leave the genius Society,” you finish.

Your voice strikes him. He flinches backward and his back stiffens. You’re toying with him. He wonders if it is something he’s opposed to.

“Is that why you dislike me, Veritas?”

He’s opposed to it, he concludes. He steps back, and his arms go to his chest once more. “Dislike?” He lets out an exclaimed scoff. “I barely know you, Professor.” He lets the last word roll off his tongue like an insult.

You hold up the book in your hands and read the title to yourself. ‘Exploring the Starlit Genius’

“Barely?” You ask.

“Nonsense,” is all he can claim as he returns to his desk.

You lean over it, your spread out hands creating a mess of his once neatly placed papers. “You make a conscious effort not to meet my eyes around here.”

Ever the observant one you were. But he denies it. “Our paths must have never crossed,” he explains.

You tilt your head with a knowing look as you cross your arms. “Don’t lie Veritas.”

A shiver goes down his spine. He doesn’t know if it's because it’s the first time he’s ever been called a liar or because you’ve just said his first name. It’s been a while since someone called him something other than “Doctor” or “Professor.” At least that's the quick excuse he can come up with on the spot to ease his jittery mind.

He’s caught. He’s finally caught. So he defends his hypothesis.

“I don’t like fools,” he states matter-a-factly. “I tend to stay away from them.”

“But not from me?”

Oh your tongue is clever. Not as clever as his, he reassures himself.

“You seem to know a lot about me.”

He’s red. He knows it. But he cant seem to find something to throw back at you. His quick wit is anywhere but in the present.

“Is it because deep down you know I’m right?” Your face softens.

He stays silent.

“Out of all the literature about me, you’ve chosen that which is not written by me.” You run your hands across the book's cover and place it neatly before him. “You’ve been reading the books with my name on them but have never picked up the ones that I myself created. Why is that?” You smile, but your face shows genuine perplexity.

If he has an answer, he doesn’t tell you. He keeps it to himself. However, the question he asks in response is an answer in itself.

“Why did you leave?” His voice is low—broken even.

Your smile turns into an expression filled with a touch of sadness. “You ask questions you know the answer to?”

“Don't you dare mock me,” he snaps.

“What else are fools good for?”

He’s silent as his lips purse in anger. There are a few beats before he responds. “Teaching.”

Your face lightens in surprise, and your original charming smile returns.

He wants to know. He yearns to know. But when you finally give him his answer, he knows it will burn like fire. He’ll finally have a reason why the thing he fought so much for was not all it was chopped up to be. The younger years of his life–wasted to appease THEM—all for nothing. Although he had reached a place of contentment, there was a little boy still in him who wanted to keep his former fantasy alive.

“The Erudition is something that consumes people as do all Aeons. You know this, right Professor?”

What you say is common sense. He gives you no answer or satisfaction. But he continues to listen attentively.

“All intelligent minds are selfish to some extent. The genius society is filled with people who will pursue knowledge regardless of the people hurt. This includes themselves.In order to be a person of pure logic—a genius…” You pause for a second. “…you must lack empathy to some extent.”

You turn to meet him, and he swears he’s never seen any eyes more beautiful and full of honesty than yours. “And I have too much.”

And then, at your words, something clicks in his brain.

Another smile takes over your lips as you face your body towards him. “And I believe you have more than you let on, Doctor.”

He’s in silence.

He says nothing because he can’t say something.

You walk around to the other side of his desk where he sits. His eyes follow your ever move while you do so. Your hand unlocks the clasp of your satchel and disappears inside. When it comes out, a book appears before him.

He takes it in his hands tenderly and then looks at the title. ‘Philosophy of the Stars,’ he reads to himself. Then his eyes wander to the bottom of the cover, and there’s your name printed in gold. He looks up at you expectantly.

Of course, when his eyes land on your face, your expression is full of glee. “If you wish to learn more about me, I hope you’ll do so through a book with all of my own words.”

You say nothing more as you turn on your heels and leave his office. Leaving Ratio with a feeling of shock and emptiness.

His hand comes up to his face, and he lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He sits there in silence and realizes…

You are none of what he had made you out to be…

Not a fool. Not an idiot. Not a genius.

But a kind soul.

He realizes that he was good enough. That he was not a fool either. Just a young boy who cared.

His eyes linger on the book you left him— the book that his hands refuse to put down. He opens it to the very first page, and he finds your writing in it and a note that slips out on his lap.

For the mediocre Dr. Veritas Ratio.

Your name is signed as elegantly as before. He puts down the book on his desk and picks up the folded note on his lap.

Feel free to dirty this. But keep it clean if you wish to auction it. It will be worth more with both our names on it, so don’t undersell. It is yours to do with as you please.

One thing Veritas knows for sure is that this book won’t leave his possession in all his years to come.

“THEIR silence was deafening.”

- Genius Society–Erudition, Astral Express Data Bank

Dr. Ratio is sharp, precise, and calculated. He considers himself to be all those things; he is a needle.

But if Dr. Veritas Ratio is a needle, then you are a pin.

ty for reading. reblogs are appreciated <3

#skip.writes #dr ratio #dr ratio x reader #hsr x reader #hsr #honkai star rail #honkai #honkai fanfic #dr. ratio #dr. ratio x reader #dr ratio x you #honkai star rail x you #penacony #star rail #honkai x reader #hsr dr ratio #aventurine x reader #fem reader

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kentogetsmewetter · 10 days ago

Text

Pookies Requiem

⋆｡°✩Genre: ony x black reader smut with plot

⋆｡°✩Synopsis: inspired by the song pookies requiem by salorr in which three months after you guys broke up you see ony with a new girl and she looks and moves similarly to you. You feel like he's being disrespectful to you showing her off kissing her in front of you, and it all boils over from there.

⋆｡°✩Contents: oral(fem reciving), fingering, sex(p n v ), overstimulation, pet names, praise, they r lowk toxic, unprotected sex, creampie, multiple orgasams

You haven't seen onyankopon in a little over three months since you guys had your breakup. It was a somewhat mutual breakup. You felt like you had to because you just weren't in the right mental space to be in a relationship at that point, and he felt like he had to, to give you that space to clear your head. He really didn't want to breakup he did it cause he cared for you is what he said but you didn't forget how he would never want to show you off in public dropping your hand when you went into stores never posting you, so you were just done with that whole thing.

So when the first time you see him in three months, you see him sitting across from you with his "girl" on his lap. You were extremely confused and felt disrespected. He sat across from you, leaning back onto the couch, His legs were spread wide, in his right hand, he held a half-burned blunt, the faint curl of smoke rising between his fingers. His other arm was wrapped possessively around her waist, his fingers playing with the hem of her skirt. She leaned into him, her gaze flickering between his face and the room, her lips curving into a soft smile you wanted to rip off her face.

She was pretty, you couldn't lie, her deep brown skin glowing under the dim lighting, Long bohemian braids flowing down her back, reaching all the way to her waist. She wore a snug, cropped baby tee that clung to her figure, revealing just a hint of toned midriff paired with a sleek black mini skirt that hightled her long legs. The fit was completed with knee-high boots that hugged her calves, their glossy finish reflecting the ambient light.

What caught your attention most, though, was her face it was uncanny. Her features eerily mirrored your own, almost as if it was on purpose. The sharp arch of her brows, the perfectly blended makeup that highlighted her almond-shaped eyes, and even the gloss coating her full lips all felt strangely familiar.

Her style, too, seemed like a deliberate copy of your own, she was clearly biting off your look, from the way her braids framed her face to the outfit she had on the way her makeup was styled the face piercings, and even the bleached brows. You've seen this chick before and you know damn well she didn't have this look a year ago. It literally looked like he was wit a mini version of you to cope, you couldn't help but chuckle at the thought.

Your thoughts were interrupted when your homegirl came back having a drink in her hand she placed it on the table in front of you her grin wide. "Girl this better have more juice than alcohol,” you muttered, narrowing your eyes at her. She let out a playful chuckle tilting her head to the pair sitting across from you." please I know you need it."

Onyankopon's hand moved with slowness trailing up and down the curves of her thigh. Their lips were locked in a heated desperate kiss with their bodies leaning into each other. It was the kinda kiss that made them feel as if they were the only two in the room. Her fingers found the way to the back of his neck tracing slow patterns with her long acrylic nails.

You sighed, already regretting whatever concoction she’d handed you. But she wasn’t wrong. Your fingers tightened around the glass as you took a sip. The burn of the liquor hit the back of your throat sharply. "God damn girl, this shit is like straight alcohol." She just chuckled, unbothered. “You’ll thank me later" She sent you a small wink.

You chuckled but you felt disrespected as hell, your anger only growing a small scowl pulled at your lips and your features even though you tried not to show you were upset. Finally, the two of them broke apart, as your gaze drifted back to Onyankopon. You didn't wanna look at him. You really didn’t, but it felt impossible not to.

He sat there, cool and looking unbothered as he slowly brought the blunt to his lips the ember glowed faintly as he took a slow drag, his eyes half-lidded and slightly red as he threw his head back blowing out a cloud of smoke. He looked good too good it only made you angrier. The compression shirt he wore clung to him like a second skin, highlighting the defined muscles of his arms and each curve of his biceps. Around his neck, an icy Cuban chain glinted under the dim lighting, every diamond refracting in the light in tiny flashes that matched the diamond grillz on his teeth when he laughed.

And he was laughing deep and rich, his attention seemingly glued to her. It made you tighten your grip on your drink. But your gaze lingered a second longer than you should've cause like he’d been waiting for you to look. His sharp eyes met yours, his lips curving into a smirk, slow, deliberate, and arrogant. It wasn’t just a smile, it was a challenge he knew what he was doing and to twist the knife just a little deeper, he sent you a small wink while you raised your middle finger to him.

"Yo, chica," Connie’s voice called pulling your attention away from the scene you’d been trying and failing not to fixate on. His tone was light but teasing. "You gon’ stare at 'em all night, or you gon’ actually say something?"Your eyes sharply snapped to Connie's before rolling them with exaggerated annoyance. "Man, shut up," you muttered under your breath, but his smirk only widened.

"Ion got shit to say to his fuck ass," you said louder this time Ony's eyes landing on you. With a small huff you pushed yourself up from the couch, the words and movement just abrupt enough to draw a few more eyes in your direction. "I'm going to the bathroom." Not waiting for his reply you walk away hearing "Alright, chica." but while you are walking away you feel the strong gaze of ony searing into your back while you leave.

The tension between you and Onyankopon was impossible to ignore. It lingered heavy in the air pulling the energy in the room into an uncomfortable stillness. No one wanted to say it out loud, but everyone could feel it the charged energy between you and Onyankopon. This was the first time anyone had been around his new girl, and it was clear no one had expected her to show up. Her presence lowkey threw everything off. She sat close to him, her body angled in a way that claimed him without needing to say a word. She looked relaxed, her smile soft and unfazed, laughing at whatever joke he murmured to her. Onyankopon seemed just as unbothered, leaning back in his seat with the same casual demeanor acting like nothing was wrong.

But the vibe was off. Everyone could feel it, and it was lowkey fucking with the flow of the night. The music playing in the background felt quieter somehow even the usual banter that kept the group lively seemed muted. It was clear the vibe had shifted but neither Onyankopon nor his girl seemed to care.

"Annoying ass nigga," you mumbled under your breath, carefully reapplying your lip liner in the mirror. The soft hum of music playing in the background did little to ease your irritation. You leaned closer, perfecting the sharp edges when a sudden knock at the door made you pause. Assuming it was one of your friends checking in on you, you called out casually, "Come in." Your tone shifted instantly when the door opened to reveal the last person you wanted to see. "Get the fuck out," you snapped.

Instead of doing what the fuck you told him to do he smirked and stepped inside, the low click of the door lock echoing in the small space. "Why I gotta leave, ma?", his voice carrying that familiar, cocky tone that always got under your skin.

You crossed your arms, raising an unimpressed eyebrow. "Where yo lil girlfriend at?" The sourness in your voice was impossible to miss, but he just chuckled, taking slow, deliberate steps toward you." Why you worried about her?" he asked, his tone teasing, A smirk played on his lips as he bit down lightly on his bottom lip while his eyes roamed over you in a way that made your skin heat up.

"Trust me, I ain’t never worried bout ha" you spoke with a shrug your tone indifferent as you were downplaying the irritation inside you. "really?" he chuckled"So why was you so pressed when I had her on my lap n' shit?" He leaned closer into you as he spoke, with his knowing tone setting you on the edge. It was that one tone that made you feel so exposed like he just knew everything.

"Nigga, cause you disrespectful as fuck." you snapped stepping closer to him jabbing your long perfectly manicured nail into his chest. "Doing all that shit right in front of my face. really? " Your words came out sharply but the slight tremor in your voice showcased your true hurt feelings.

For a split second, he didn’t respond, just watched you with that look in his eyes, you also took the time to observe him. before you knew it, he had you cornered your back pressed against the cool wall, the space between you close to close, overwhelming so his sent a mix of your favorite cologne he wore and smoke was filling your nostrils like a trap, you were trapped. His body towered over yours, in a way that made it impossible to ignore that feeling you had for him deep down.

You tried to keep your composure, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look him in the eyes your eyes darting everywhere but his face. You felt as if his eyes were piercing into your skin making you feel small your eyes skimming over his chest, the wall to your left, the floor anywhere but him. His lip curved into that same aggravating smirk you'd seen all throughout the night you felt it without even looking at him. He knew he had you and you hated that he was right.

"Yea?" he said softly, his smooth and low almost a whisper. His fingers, tipped with clear polish, slipped under your chin with a gentle yet firm touch, you swoalled hard your pulse quickening while his hand tilted your head upward forcing you to meet his eyes. "You’re not even looking me in my eyes right now, mama." his voice soft but weighted every word hitting you like a punch. His thumb lightly brushed your jaw, sending a shiver down your spine. "You only do that when you’re mad..."

His other hand, tattooed and warm slid down to your waist with an ease that felt too natural. His fingers pressed against your skin, warm and firm as they started tracing slow, soothing circles. The touch was soothing, almost comforting, but the effect it had on you was anything but calm.

"Nervous," he continued his lips curving into that signature smirk as he leaned in closer his breath brushing against your neck. "Jealous..." he added, dragging the word out, making you heart skip a beat. "You called me a fuck-ass nigga," he said with a quiet chuckle, his smirk deepening."Been rude to me all night. But…" He leaned in just slightly, his face close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off his skin. His gaze traveled over your face studying every mood you tried to suppress." With how hard you tryna act right now," he said, his voice dipping even lower. "Ion think you’re mad."

"Trust me, I definitely ain’t jealous," you shot back, you pushed against his chest your palms flat against the hard surface the hard muscle beneath his shirt. You tried pushing him away from you but he wouldn't budge, too strong for that. Frustrated you gave up turning your head to face the wall beside you again refusing to meet his eyes.

He chuckled softly, the sound low and deep, like he found your resistance amusing."You act like I don’t know you," he said, his voice dropping into that smooth, familiar tone that always made your stomach twist. before you could respond, his hand slipped beneath your shirt. His palm was warm against your bare skin, his touch deliberate as his fingers spread across your waist, cupping you with a familiarity that made your breath hitch.

"How your body reacts to me," he murmured each word with a slow tease. " And only me." His thumb brushed lazy circles against your skin the subtle movement filling your body with heat finding it hard to keep your composure. Your jaw tightened, as you swallowed hard you felt his gaze burning into the side of your face as you kept your eyes elsewhere trying to keep your composure, but he noticed everything the way your breathing spead, the slight tension in your shoulders, the heat creeping up your neck. He knew you all too well.

"How you can get so wet from the smallest touches," his voice deep it felt so intoxicating he gripped the side of your neck firmly, tilting your head slightly his lips brushing against the curve of your neck, placing slow, lingering kisses trailing from the base of your neck to that sensitive spot just behind your ear.

He was a little more right than you wanted to admit heat was pooling between your thighs, your body was responding to him in ways you couldn’t control."How easy it is for me to get you to cum," he whispered his words like a challenge and promise all at once, his hand sliding down lower the short skirt you were wearing giving him all the access he needed, his fingers easily found the hem of your panties tugging lightly testing how far he could push you.

"All you gotta do is say please, baby," his lips brushed against your ear as he spoke his fingers toying with the delicate fabric.You hated this, you hated how easy it was for your body to give into him, how every word, every touch had your body being so reactive to him. The worst part is he knew no matter how much you tried to fight it he always knew. " And if I don't?" you shot back quriking a brow challenging him trying to hold onto the last bit of control you had left.

He didn’t flinch, didn’t hesitate. Instead, he leaned back slightly, his smirk still in place but softened with something that felt almost playful. "I’ll stop," he said simply, his voice calm giving you just enough space to breathe, the absence of his warmth leaving you feeling a bit cooler. His eyes locked onto your reading every emotion on your face." Do you want me to stop?" his voice becoming softer your throat felt dry, your chest tight, and for a moment, the room felt smaller like the walls were closing in around you. His words lingered but you knew you couldn't give him what he wanted, what you wanted, he disrespected you kissed and rubbed all over her in front of you, he probably got that other bitch outside waiting for him.

"Yea, in fact, I do," you snapped, your tone sharp and cutting. "Actually, go back to that other bitch. Bet you were thinking about me the whole time you were with her, loser-ass nigga."You stood tall your arms crossed over your chest as your chin was tilted in defiance you glared at him, daring him to respond.

You saw his jaw tense slightly for a second, his dark eyes narrowing as he looked at you, an unreadable expression flickering across his face. For a moment, you thought he might fire back, match your energy, and escalate things further. Instead, he gave you that madding smirk the one that always got under your skin, that was deliberate and full of arrogance, like he had already won whatever battle you thought you were fighting.

Onyankopon took a step back his movements smooth and calculated "Bet" he said, his voice calm and confident, his smirk deepening as he turned away, leaving you standing there with your emotions tangled and your chest tight." what the fuck.."

You stood in front of the bathroom mirror, staring at your reflection. The dim light highlighted the frustration etched across your features, your brows furrowed and lips pressed into a thin line. You were upset but more than anything, you were disappointed in yourself. You hated how close you’d come to giving in to him, how his touch and his words had nearly had you.

"I gotta get outta here," you muttered under your breath, gripping the edge of the sink you wish you could erase the memory of his aggravating yet sexy smirk, the way his voice lingered in your mind, the way you still felt his hot teasing touches on your skin. After a few more moments of pacing in the cramped space, you gathered yourself, stepping outside the bathroom ready to tell everyone your goodbyes.

"Ahh, Chica! There you are!" Connie’s voice boomed as soon as he spotted you. His mischievous grin spread wide as he leaned back in his chair, a blunt in one hand. "What, were you takin’ a shit or somethin’?" You couldn’t help but chuckle shaking your head at his audacity "Boy no." you shot back, rolling your eyes, but the corner of your lips tugging upward in a reluctant smile.

"Good! Now we can finally play the game," he spoke, clapping his hands together. Your face quickly scrunched up at his words "What game?" "You ain’t hear?" Connie teased, his grin widening as he leaned forward like he was about to share some big secret." We finna play truth or dare."

Truth or dare? Yea no that was a recipe for disaster. You were already shaking your head, backing up a step. "Nah, I’m not playin’ no truth or dare," you said firmly. "I gotta go."

"Booo, you're no fun. Just stay for one round, please?" Connie whined dramatically, tugging slightly on your arm like a little kid. "Yeah, just one," your homegirl chimed in, You glanced between the two of them, their over-the-top expressions making it hard to say no. You sighed reluctantly rolling your eyes. "Fine. Just one round." The pair erupted into cheers like they’d just won the lottery." oh my god" You shook your head lightly with a smile and before you knew it, you were being dragged back to the group.

The room was dimly lit, the air thick with the different scents of smoke and laughter as you all sat in a loose circle on the living room floor. It was you, your friend, Connie, Armin, Eren, Sasha, Onyankopon, and ole girl that he was still allowing to sit in his lap. Drinks were scattered across the coffee table, the faint smell of weed hung in the air, and the music playing in the background set the perfect vibe.

It didn’t take long for the game to take a turn. Of course, you weren't there for one round only. Truths became messier, dares became bolder, and the energy in the room shifted into something unpredictable, somehow you ended up with a blunt in hand, the warm paper crackling faintly as you brought it up to your lips. Your inhale was smooth, the smoke filling your lungs before you released it in a slow steady stream. For a brief moment, you felt the weight of the room fading but of course that didn't last long, you could feel Onyankopon's gaze drilling holes into the side of your head.

The others were laughing and shouting as Armin fumbled through a dare, but their voices felt distant in your mind. You refused to look his way keeping your attention on Armin in front of you. Your focus was on keeping your composure and pretending like Onyankopon’s presence didn’t affect you, even though it did. Instead of looking his way you exhaled again, letting the thick haze surround you while the game played on with rising tension and unspoken words hanging heavy in the air.

"Okay, y/n, it’s your turn!" Sasha chirped, her smile a little too wide as if she was desperate to keep things light. You glanced at her, still feeling the weight of Onyankopon’s gaze lingering on you from earlier. His presence felt like a magnet, pulling at you no matter how hard you tried to ignore him. "Truth or dare?" Sasha pressed, her voice cutting through your thoughts. You sighed, leaning back into the couch. "Truth," you answered wanting to keep your peace for now. "What’s one of your biggest regrets?"

Sasha looked at you with an apologetic shrug, clearly realizing a second too late that her choice of question might’ve been a bit much.You inhaled deeply, the blunt in your hand burning idly as you took a slow drag, letting the smoke fill your lungs before exhaling with measured calm. "My biggest regret?" you echoed, You could feel everyone’s anticipation, their quiet curiosity mixed with a little nervousness. Finally, you set the blunt down, brushing off the ash as you spoke. "Probably wasting my time on people who didn’t deserve it," you said simply, your words carrying a sharpness through the air

Sasha let out a nervous laugh, fidgeting with the hem of her shirt. "Well, uh, that was... honest!" she stammered, trying to recover from the tension she’d just unleashed. Onyankopon didn’t say anything, but the way his gaze darkened, his lips pressing into a thin line for a split second, told you everything you needed to know. You’d hit a nerve, and he wasn’t about to let it go unnoticed.

"Alright, Eren, your turn," Connie finally said, breaking the silence and steering the game forward, though the lingering tension was impossible to ignore. You took another drag from your blunt, pretending not to notice the way Onyankopon’s eyes stayed locked on you, the air between you still humming with unspoken words.

But of course, Armin being the instigator he is couldn't resist stirring the pot. He leaned forward, a sly grin spreading across his face as the energy in the room shifted. It was Eren’s turn, and for this round, he decided to play it safe."Truth," Eren said with a casual shrug. "Alright, here’s a good one," Armin had been waiting for this moment no hesitation in his voice when he said. " Do you think y/n and Onyankopon still have feelings for each other?"

The room went dead silent, the kind of quiet where even the music in the background felt muted. You froze the blunt halfway up to your lips, and all eyes darted between you and Onyankopon. The playful energy of the room shifted into something far more uncomfortable. Eren, visibly caught off guard, leaned back. " Bruh," Eren muttered, running a hand down his face as he regretted picking truth at that moment.

Onyankopon on the other hand didn't bother hiding his reaction, his jaw clenched so tightly you could see the muscle ticking in his cheek. His usual calm, unbothered demeanor cracked just slightly, and for a moment, you could feel the heat of his irritation radiating off him. He shifted in his spot, his broad shoulders tensing as he glanced at you briefly before locking eyes with Armin. Armin was unfazed and enjoying every second of the chaos he leaned back on his hands, his grin only growing wider.

"Answer the question," Sasha teased, breaking the silence and nudging Eren with her elbow. You finally took a drag of the blunt, inhaling deeply like it was the only thing keeping you from snapping. Smoke curled from your lips as you exhaled slowly, refusing to meet Onyankopon’s gaze even though you could feel it boring into you. Eren hesitated, looking between you and Onyankopon like he was trying to navigate between making the air tenser

"Don’t even answer that dumbass shit," Onyankopon cut in, his voice low and sharp. His eyes remained fixed on Armin, daring him to push further. "Oh, come on, it’s just a game," Armin quipped, raising his hands in innocence. "Besides, we’re all thinking it, right?" You rolled your eyes, leaning back and blowing out another puff of smoke. "Y’all are so damn childish," you muttered. " And besides y'all disrespecting the lady I got on my lap right here."

"So now you worried bout disrespect? Got it, " you mumbled under your breath, barely loud enough for anyone to hear. But of course, someone heard, Onyankopon heard. His sharp gaze shifted to you instantly, his lips curving upwards. "Yea, I am," he said, his voice low but pointed like he knew exactly how his words would land. "What, you got something to say, ma?"

Your head snapped toward him, eyes narrowing as you met his eyes for the first time all night."Nah," you said coolly, though your tone betrayed the irritation simmering just beneath the surface. "Just funny how respect only comes up when it suits you."

The group sat frozen, their eyes darting between the two of you as if they were front-row spectators of the hottest new movie in theaters, Sasha raised her eyebrows, biting her lip to suppress a laugh, while Connie leaned forward, his grin wide as he whispered, "Oh, this about to get good." Armin's instigating ass sat back with a satisfied smirk proud of the little scene he was causing while Eren, who usually stayed detached, looked genuinely intrigued, his arms crossed as he watched the tension escalate. The air between you felt charged, heavy, as Onyankopon tilted his head slightly, that smirk deepening like he was enjoying this way too much. "Funny how you always got somethin' ta say when it’s about me,"

You straightened your back slightly, refusing to let Onyankopon’s words rattle you, but the heat in your chest only grew. "And what’s that supposed to mean?" you shot back, your voice sharp, Onyankopon let out a low chuckle and he leaned forward slightly, "You know exactly what it means, mama," he said, his eyes boring into yours. "You talk the loudest when you tryin' to convince yourself of somethin’."

The rest of the room was utterly silent now, every eye locked on the two of you. Connie muttered a quiet "Oh, shit," under his breath, leaning forward to catch every word, while Sasha’s wide eyes darted between you and Onyankopon, as though she were bracing herself for whatever came next.

You scoffed, your eyes narrowing as you stared at him with a sharp glare," And what am I trying to convince myself of?" Rising outta the soft sofa chair you tilted your chin upwards, refusing to back down. The challenge in your stance was clear, daring him to say something. Onyankopon mirrored your movement effortlessly, standing tall and matching your energy with an intensity that made the air between you crackle. His gaze locked onto yours. "That you don’t care," he said simply, his tone calm, almost too calm, as if he already had you figured out.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes even as the tension between you thickened. "Boy, please no one is worried about you and what you're doing." "Yea?," he said, his voice dropping lower a teasing edge dipping in. "You tryin’ so hard to act like I don’t get under your skin like you ain’t been feelin’ some type of way since you walked in and saw me."Your lips parted to respond, but no words came out, your mind racing for a comeback that wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. He tilted his head, watching you intently.

"You talk the loudest when you tryin’ to convince yourself of somethin'," he continued, his tone laced with a confidence that made your chest tighten. "And right now? You tryin’ to convince yourself that I ain’t still in your head, that you don’t care what I do or who I’m with. But we both know that’s a lie."

He had you, and he knew it—knew you like the back of his hand, every button to push, every weakness to exploit. It infuriated you how easily he could get under your skin, how effortlessly he could unravel you with just a few words."Yea, your right cause you don’t give a shit about anyone but yourself,"You jabbed your finger hard into his chest, the force of it making him take a half-step back, but his eyes never wavered from yours. Your voice trembling slightly despite your best efforts to stay composed. The frustration, the anger, the hurt all of it bubbled to the surface, threatening to spill over.

"You don’t give a shit about me or ole girl you brought here tonight." you spat, The tears you’d been holding back glistened in your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. Not here. Not in front of him. His smirk faltered, just slightly, the faintest flicker of something unreadable crossing his face before he quickly masked it. "That's what you think?" he said, his voice quieter now, but no less intense. "That I don’t care?"

“I know you don’t care,” you vented, your voice trembling, whether from the anger you were feeling or the tears that would soon be running down your face, you weren't sure." cause if you did care you wouldn't have even brought this bitch here!"

You felt the knot in your throat getting tighter, the weight of everything, the anger, betrayal, the pain was so strong you felt like you could hardly breathe. You couldn’t let him see you like this vulnerable and feeling exposed.

Turning on your heel, you spat the words that had been burning on the tip of your tongue. “Fuck you, nigga. You’re a piece of shit.” Your voice cracked slightly, but the nastiness in your tone wouldn't go unnoticed. The words hung heavy in the air as you stormed off, your footsteps echoing in the sudden silence. Behind you, you could feel his gaze, a mix of shock and something else you couldn’t or wouldn’t decipher. But you didn’t look back. You couldn’t.

The ride home was a blur of headlights and streetlights blurred from your tear-filled eyes, your playlist filled with the saddest songs you could find each lyric pulling more tears from you, making the ache in your heart much heavier. With one hand on the smooth leather steering wheel, you used the other to wipe your checks even though it felt pointless.

You were finally letting the emotions of the night out, you were upset, angry really but not just at him. The situation kept playing over and over in your head, you thinking of different scenarios you should've done instead. That stupid fucking smirk on his face, his words, the way your feelings got completely disregarded. It wasn't just the fact that he disrespected you showing off that girl in front of you doing the things he would never do to you. It was also the fact that throughout the whole night, he acted as if nothing you said or did faze him like he was just enjoying playing a game.

But what stung worst of all is how badly you still wanted him. The memory of his touch lingered on your smooth skin still, every sensation burned into your mind, the way his fingers brushed against your skin so casually but left you wanting, needing more.

When you finally pulled into your driveway your body felt heavy and weighed down by exhaustion and frustration. You turned off the engine and with a shaky sigh, you made your way inside. tossing your bag onto the couch as you kicked off your shoes. Without thinking you grabbed the blunt you were smoking before and you sparked it, watching as the tip burned a bright red, the smoke curling into the air in your dimly lit living room. You inhaled deeply he warmth of it started to work its way through you, dulling your emotions just enough to breathe easier.

But even as you exhaled, the haze beginning the cloud the area around you, his face lingered in your mind, his voice, his touch, the way he had looked at you tonight like he knew exactly how to undo you. You took another hit hoping the weed would just do its job and calm you down.

After about fifteen minutes, the tension in your body had eased, The blunt doing its job leaving you feeling much more relaxed and calm, you did a small stretch feeling ready to take a shower and get some sleep.

But then, three loud knocks shattered that quietness, The sound made you jump slightly, your heart skipping a beat as you froze for a moment. You frowned, annoyed and unsure who would be knocking at this hour. You didn’t feel like dealing with anyone, thinking it was one of your friends checking up on you but curiosity got the better of you.

Huffing in annoyance you walked over to the window pulling the curtain aside just enough to peek out carefully to stay outta sight. And there he was Onyankopon, standing on your porch his hands shoved into his pockets his tall frame illuminated by the soft glow of the porch light.

You rolled your eyes so hard it almost hurt. Of course, it was him. You should’ve known. The audacity of him showing up here after everything tonight is crazy. He caught your gaze through the window, and you didn’t bother to hide your disdain you raised your middle finger flipping him off mouthing a silent" fuck you."

His expression didn’t change much just that same irritatingly calm look, with the faintest hint of amusement tugging at the corner of his lips. You didn’t wait to see if he had anything to say. You let the curtain fall back into place and turned heading straight for the couch. Let him stand out there. You weren’t in the mood for whatever game he thought he yall were about to play.

That was until you heard the faint, click of the door unlocking. Your head whipped in the direction of the door heart sinking." “Oh, hell no,” you grumbled, realization hitting you that You’d completely forgotten about the spare key, the spare key that he damn well knew about you quickly scrambled toward the door, but before you could reach it, it was already swinging open. And there he was stepping inside like this was his house his calm, unbothered demeanor only fueling your anger. “C’mon, baby, let’s talk like adults,” he said smoothly, his deep voice filling the room as he shut the door behind him.

You stood rooted on to the spot your arms crossed over your chest and your eyes narrowing into a scowl that could've easily burned holes through him. The audacity of this man to just walk in after everything tonight left you speechless it was almost impressive in a sick way. “Get the fuck out!” you screamed your voice cracking with all your built-up frustration. You were done, done with his games, his arrogance, his complete disregard for your boundaries. "You're a piece of shit, Fuck you. Deadass." you pointed at him in frustration

But he didn’t flinch, didn’t even move a muscle. Onyankopon just stood there his tall frame leaning slightly against the doorframe, his body relaxed in a way that only made your blood boil more. His dark eyes stayed locked onto yours, unwavering, like he was trying to read every emotion spilling from you. He didn't interrupt, didn't defend himself, just listened calmly. “I know, I know,” he finally spoke up his voice low. “Let’s talk about why I’m a piece of shit.”

That was it. Your body reacted before your mind could, you balled up one of your hands slamming it repeatability in the palm of your hand, the force and intensity echoing in the room as you spoke. “Ouu, nigga,” you muttered your voice trembling a mix of anger and other emotions you were trying so hard to suppress. Your vision blurred slightly, your chest tightening as a familiar sting formed in your eyes. You blinked rapidly, refusing to let the tears spill, but it was useless. The emotions were too strong anger, hurt, humiliation and they were all threatening to overwhelm you.

Onyankopon’s head tilted just slightly as he noticed, his brows furrowing for a brief second before smoothing out again. He didn’t say anything, didn’t make a move to comfort or provoke you further. Instead, his body remained still, except for his fingers, which lightly tapped against his forearm as if he were waiting for you to let it all out. The calmness in his posture only made you angrier. His steady breathing, the subtle rise and fall of his chest, was a stark contrast to the way your body shook with bottled-up rage and sadness. You could feel the tension radiating off him, though an energy that was barely contained beneath his cool exterior.

You stormed up to him, closing the space between you two until there were mere inches separating you. your voice came out sharp and controlled as you spat. “Nigga, I already said it you disrespectful as hell." Your hand shot up, jabbing your finger at his face, each point emphasizing your words.

Onyankopon didn’t flinch, but his jaw tensed, the muscles flexing visibly beneath his skin. His hands, previously crossed over his chest, fell to his sides as he let out a low, tired sigh. Slowly, he ran his fingers over his face, his palm dragging down from his forehead to his chin, as if trying to wipe away the tension.

“I understand,” he said, his voice quiet but firm. His eyes flickered back to yours, dark and serious. “And I apologize.” For a moment, you just stared at him, stunned by the words that came out his mouth. Then, out of nowhere, a sharp laugh escaped your lips, dry and humorless. You tilted your head back slightly as the bitter sound filled the room, your body radiating disbelief. "You're really sorry but you kept doing it?" you shot back, your voice dripping with sarcasm, " and then you kept doing it, rubbing that shit in my face and standing up for her. You shook your head, a short, sharp movement as if trying to shake off the absurdity of his words.

“You done?” he asked quietly, upset that you laughed at his apology when he really meant it. His head tilted ever so slightly, the smirk from earlier gone, replaced with something more serious. You let out another laugh cause no you weren't done not even close. “Oh, I’m just getting started,” you snapped, crossing your arms tightly over your chest. You leaned forward slightly, glaring up at him. “You think you can just say ‘sorry’ and everything’s cool? Nah, Ony. You don’t get to play with my feelings and then act like it’s not a big deal.”

His gaze flicked down to where your arms were crossed, his eyes lingering on the way your body was tense, practically vibrating with anger. He took a slow, deep breath, his chest rising and falling in a measured way, as if trying to steady himself.“I ain’t playin’ with your feelings, though ma,” he said, his voice softer but with a hint of frustration. His hand moved to rub the back of his neck.“You think I don’t care about you? That’s crazy. You know better than that.”

“Do I?” you shot back, uncrossing your arms and stepping even closer to him your index finger pressing into his chest. His skin was warm under your touch.“Cause everything you’ve done tonight says otherwise.”Ony looked down at your finger, then back at you, his jaw tightening again. He let out a low chuckle, one that didn’t reach his eyes. “You really think I don’t care?” he asked, his voice dropping an octave. He stepped forward, and suddenly, you were the one taking a step back.

“Say it,” his eyes locking onto yours, unblinking and intense. “Say I don’t care about you, and mean it.” You straightened your shoulders, tilting your chin up defiantly Your eyes locked onto his, “You don’t,” you said firmly, your voice steady and unwavering. There wasn’t a crack, not a hint of doubt

His smirk returned, but this time it was different, there was no amusement in the way he looked just frustration and slight confusion. “That’s cute,” he muttered, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he leaned even closer, his face now inches from yours.“You can say it all you want,” Onyankopon continued, his voice deep and steady, “but we both know that ain’t the truth.” His eyes searched yours, looking for any change in emotions but you didn't give him one. “You’re mad, and you’ve got every right to be. But don’t act like you don’t know where I stand.”

You stayed silent, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a reaction, even as your body tensed under the weight of his words. The air between you felt suffocating, heavy with unspoken emotions, but you held your ground, your eyes locked on his, daring him to push further. “You not gonna say anything, huh?”, his voice low and rough, like he was trying to keep his emotions in check. “That’s fine. I’ll talk. You think I don’t care? You think all that shit tonight was me just playin’? Nah. I know I fucked up, but don’t stand here and act like you don’t know what it is between us.”

Your jaw tightened, your hands balling into fists at your sides as you fought to maintain your composure. “What it is between us Ony?” you questioned, not feeling anything. “Ohhh, you mean the disrespect? The mind games? The way you show up, do whatever the hell you want, and think ‘sorry’ is enough to fix it?” Your voice was laced with scarsam tired of his shit.

His grip on his rings that he was playing with grew tighter,his lips pressing into a hard line as he absorbed your words. “I ain’t perfect,” he admitted, his voice quieter now, almost vulnerable. “But don’t act like I don’t care about you. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”You laughed bitterly, the sound harsh in the quiet room. “Care about me?” you echoed, your voice rising. “If you cared, you wouldn’t have brought her here. If you cared, you wouldn’t have put me in that situation, making me look stupid while you sit there acting like it’s nothing.”

Ony’s eyes flickered with something guilt, maybe, or frustration but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he leaned in even closer, your foreheads almost touching“You don’t look stupid,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “You could never look stupid. I look stupid. And yeah, I messed up. I know that. That shit was childish of me." He looked into your eyes for a sign of hope a sign that you would forgive him for the bullshit he did tonight but there was nothing, your face was still stone cold.

"Whatever,"You didn’t even spare him another glance as you turned around determined to put an end to this exhausting exchange. "Go get your girl," you spat outta bitterness. But before you could take another step, you felt his hand wrap firmly around your waist." That's what I'm trying to do." The grip wasn’t harsh, but it was enough to stop you in your tracks. Heat radiated from his touch, rising up the thin fabric of your shirt.

“Don’t put your fucking hands on me,” you hissed, your footsteps halting abruptly. "Na, we not done talking," he shot back, his voice steady as his grip on your hip stayed the same. He now had your body pressed against the door frame. His body leaned forward slightly, closing the already small distance between you. “Words don’t mean shit, Ony,” you tried pushing him away from you but he couldn't budge. “Actions do. And your actions? Your actions are telling me everything I need to know.”

He exhaled slowly, his broad shoulders rising and falling with the weight of it, his eyes scanned your face as if he were trying to remember every detail to memory. His gaze lingered on your eyes, your furrowed brows, the tight set of your lips each feature showing your frustration and anger.“Then let me show you,” he said, his voice low, steady, and laced with determination. There was no hesitation in his tone, no room for doubt he fully meant what he was saying right now.

His grip on your waist shifted slightly, his fingers pressing into the curve of your hips with just enough firmness to hold you in place. His thumbs moved in slow, soothing circles it was deliberate and purposeful trying to use his touch as a reminder. Your breath hitched, and his dark eyes caught a slight falter, the flicker of something other than anger breaking through your defenses. He noticed everything, and it annoyed you how easily he read you.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he murmured, his voice dropping into a softer tone. “but I know you feel it, too.” His thumbs continued their slow path, soothing his gentle pressure drawing your attention back to him, back to the moment. Your hands hovered near your sides, unsure whether to push him away or hold him there He tilted his head slightly, his gaze searching yours for something unspoken, something he was determined to find.“Just... let me show you,” he repeated, his words even softer this time.

The two of you stood there with locked eyes the air between you thick with unspoken words and lingering tension. This one moment felt like an eternity, though it was only a matter of seconds your mind raaced with questions, your chest tightened as you tried to decipher his true intent. Could you trust him? Did he even deserve it? Meanwhile, his eyes softened slightly, but the intensity remained. It was as if he was silently pleading with you the rare vulnerability, hoping, praying you'd let down your guard once more just enough to let him in.

Then, before you could think to move or speak, Onyankopon made his decision. What he was about to do could either end with a stinging slap across his face or... something entirely different. Slowly he raised his fingers, giving you every chance to pull away if you desired. They slid underneath your chin his touch delicate, somewhat scared that you might pull away at any moment. He tilted your head upward, just slightly forcing you to look directly at him. His gaze felt so intense it made your knees feel wobbly.

Then before you could think or react, he leaned in his lips brushing against yours soft yet firm. The kiss was slow, tantalizing filled with an intensity that left you breathless. This kiss was deliberate as if he'd been waiting for this moment forever savoring every second of it.

The two of you slowly pulled away from the kiss, your breaths mingling as you lingered close, foreheads almost touching. His lips pecked against yours one last time softly, "You’re so annoying," a small laugh escaping as you turned your head to the side, trying to hide the warmth creeping up your face. Onyankopon’s lips curled into a knowing smirk, his hand still resting on your waist, his thumb gripping the fabric of your shirt. "I know, mama," he replied, his voice low and teasing, with just the slightest edge of affection. "I know."

The two of you made your way upstairs to your bedroom, the tension increasing with every second he couldn't keep his hands off you. Once inside, Onyankopon gently laid you down on the bed, your body sinking into the soft embrace of the mattress. He hovered over you, his broad shoulders blocking out the dim light from the room. His body settled between your legs, the heat radiating off him and seeping into you. you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him in closer, your ankles locking behind him. His hands gripped the sides of your thighs tightly, his fingers digging into the soft flesh.

Lowering himself, he leaned in and placed a series of light kisses along your neck, his lips moving slowly, each one more purposeful than the last. He adjusted his grip on your thighs, sliding his hands up toward your hips before gripping firmly again. His lips parted, and you felt his lips sucking your skin. You let out a quiet hum at the action he lingered your neck in small kisses until he got to that one spot behind your ear that drove you crazy. "I'm sorry baby, I really am." His hands went underneath the shirt you had on gripping your breast, his fingers squeezing and tugging at your nipples.

"Ony, pleaseee," you whined, impatiently as your lips curved into a small pout. Your fingers gripped the sheets beneath you in frustration, your body tense and eager. You were tired of all the teasing, the deliberate slowness of his movements. After what he did to you tonight he shouldn't have been moving this slow. His hands were firm yet gentle as they trailed up your thighs, just barely hovering over that spot you wanted him to touch so badly,"You forgive me?" his thumbs were brushing your sensitive skin with ease.

Your jaw clenched slightly at his question, the audacity of it clear in the slight raise of your brow. Absolutely not, you thought, but instead of saying anything, you pressed your lips together and stayed silent, refusing to give him the satisfaction of an answer. He smirked at your lack of response, leaning back slightly. His hands moved to the waistband of your skirt, his fingers hooking under the fabric." damn it's like that?" He smirked at your lack of response, leaning back slightly. His hands moved to the waistband of your skirt, his fingers hooking under the fabric. Without breaking eye contact, he began to tug them down, his movements slow and agonizingly deliberate. The soft fabric dragged over your hips, the friction against your skin making your breath hitch.

He paused for a moment, his hands still gripping the material just above your knees, his eyes flicking back up to your face gauging your reaction. His lips curved into a subtle grin when he noticed the way your chest rose and fell, your body betraying the calm expression you tried to maintain. Ony continued pulling, the skirt slipping down your legs inch by inch, his fingertips grazing your skin as he went. Every movement felt intentional and slowed the air around you thick with tension. When he finally slid the fabric past your ankles, he tossed them aside without a second thought.

Onyankopon's large hands gripped your thighs firmly, his thumbs grazing the sensitive skin as he moved upward with agonizing slowness. His fingers hovered just over the damp fabric of your panties, his touch light but deliberate, sending a jolt of pleasure through you as he pressed down ever so slightly onto your clit. “Gotchu real quiet now,”His eyes flicked up to meet yours, a sly grin tugging at the corner of his lips as he watched your body react to him. A soft moan escaped your lips, betraying how much his touch affected you, and you arched your hips instinctively, seeking more pressure. Onyankopon chuckled, the sound deep and rich as he leaned in, placing a gentle kiss just below your belly button.

His lips trailed downward, planting slow, deliberate kisses from the center of your stomach to the edge of your panties, just above your clit. After every kiss mumbling some incoherent nonsense you didn't care about. “Ony, stop teasinggg,” you dragged out, your voice carrying both frustration and need.

He got on his knees his hands tightened slightly on your thighs, holding you in place as his lips hovered over the damp fabric, his warm breath fanning against you. “Stop teasing?” he repeated mockingly, raising an eyebrow as his lips brushed lightly over the cloth. " maybe if you say you forgive me I will." You bit your lip, your frustration growing as his fingers traced the outline of your panties, just barely touching you. His lips pressed softly against the fabric again, adding to the building tension. "I can't, not yet."

His lips brushed against the damp fabric again, this time more intentionally, lingering just a little longer, the sensation sending a pulse of need throughout your body. Your body twitched waiting for him to hurry up.He glanced up at you through hooded eyes, watching every twitch, every shift in your expression. “You’re stubborn as hell, you know that?” as his fingers finally slid just beneath the edge of the fabric. The slight shift of his touch against your skin made your hips jerk involuntarily, but he held you steady, smirking at your reaction

His other hand slid up, fingers laying across your lower stomach to hold you in place as his thumb lazily traced circles over the edge of your thigh. The friction was just enough to make you desperate for more but not nearly enough to satisfy.

.“You’re not gonna make this easy for me, are you, mama?” he teased, his lips curving into that same smug smile that always made your blood boil—and your body betray you.He pressed another kiss, this time just below the fabric, his breath hot and tantalizing. "You can keep playing hard to get, but we both know where this is going."

"Your such a egotistical bas-" You tried to hard to tell him to fuck off but the way he's hands and mouth were working in tandem had your words caught in your throat as he took a long stripe from the bottom of your panties to the top of your clit

"Still not ready to forgive me?" he asked softly, his voice dripping with mock innocence. You swallowed hard, your hands gripping the sheets beneath you as if they’d somehow ground you. Your body was betraying you, reacting to every deliberate touch, every teasing flick of his tongue, every warm breath he exhaled against you."Not yet." you let out an airy breath, your voice barely audible but firm.

Onyankopon chuckled again, this time lower, more satisfied."I guess I’ll just have to work a little harder then,"His grip on your thighs tightened again, pulling you just slightly closer to the edge of the bed, aligning himself perfectly between your legs. His lips pressed firmly against the center of the fabric this time, applying just enough pressure to make you gasp, your hips bucking slightly against his hold.

"Careful," he said, smirking as he held you firmly in place. "Wouldn’t want you to give yourself away."Your breathing was uneven, your chest rising and falling with every teasing motion he made. His tongue darted out, pressing against the damp spot, adding to the already unbearable heat pooling in your stomach. You bit your lip hard, refusing to let the moan threatening to escape win.

"Still not forgiving me?" he asked, his tone smug and confident. He kissed the fabric again, this time harder, the pressure sending a jolt through your body. "Guess I’ll have to keep apologizing then."

You were about to give in soon you don't think he should be forgiven just yet but you just wanted to cum and he barely even touched you. Your fingers gripped the sheets tighter as Onyankopon's actions continued, his lips and tongue tormenting you through the thin fabric of your panties. He seemed to take his time, savoring every reaction he pulled from you, every slight shift of your body, and every ragged breath you couldn’t contain. His hands held your thighs firmly, thumbs kneading gently against your skin like he was trying to keep you grounded.

When you didn’t respond to his last taunt, he chuckled, low and husky, the sound reverberating against you. "Silent treatment now?" he teased, sliding his fingers along the waistband of your panties again. He tugged on them just enough to make you squirm, his lips brushing the exposed skin right above them.

"You're only making this harder for yourself, mama," he murmured against your skin, his voice smooth. Your body betrayed you again, a soft whimper slipping out despite your best efforts to stay composed. He caught it, of course, his smirk widening as he looked up at you, his dark eyes glittering with satisfaction. "There she is."

Without breaking eye contact, he slowly began to pull your panties down, his movements unhurried, deliberate, as if he wanted to draw out every second of your anticipation. His lips followed the path of the fabric, planting soft kisses along your thighs as he worked the material lower.

By the time your panties were halfway down, his hands returned to your thighs, spreading them just slightly wider. He tilted his head, his lips pressing another kiss against your inner thigh, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin just enough to make you gasp.

“Say the words, and I’ll stop,” he said, his voice quieter now, softer, as if daring you to push him away. But the way his hands moved, the way his lips lingered on your skin, it was clear he wasn’t in a rush for you to decide.

You gave up the act, the walls you had built crumbling under the weight of his persistence and your own longing. It was useless to keep fighting a battle you were never going to win, he had you cornered emotionally and physically, and deep down, you knew you couldn’t hold out any longer. Your breath hitched as the tension in the room seemed to thicken, the silence growing heavier by the second. Finally, reluctantly you said what he'd been waiting to hear." I forgive you Ony."

It was as if a switch flipped inside him. The change was instant, his entire demeanor shifting from restrained patience to hunger. He didn’t waste a single moment. You gasped, your breath catching in your throat as you felt his wet warm tongue gliding against your slit. The sensation was overwhelming your brain already feeling scrambled, but what really caught you off guard was the unexpected pressure of metal. You’d completely forgotten about his tongue piercing. It hadn’t been in earlier tonight, you were sure of it, and you had no idea when he’d decided to put it back in.

Your mouth parted, a soft moan escaping before you could stop it. The metal ball traced slow, tantalizing circles around your clit, the contrast between the cool steel and the heat of his tongue making your body tremble. " Fuckkk~" the sensations so overwhelming you felt your eyes shut tightly and your fist ball up.

“Say it one more time,” he demanded, his voice deep and commanding, But before you even got a chance to respond he quickly slid his pointer finger into you, sending a wave of pleasure through your body. “Ahh~” The sound escaped your lips as your back arched involuntarily up off the bed, the sounds of nothing but your wetness filling the air.

Your legs instinctively tried to close around his face, an attempt to contain the overwhelming sensation, but he wasn’t having it. His free hand moved with quick speed, gripping your thigh firmly and forcing your legs apart again. “Don't that shit,” The dominance in his deep voice only made the heat pooling in your core intensify.

The way he handled you, the way he spoke it was impossible to resist. Your chest heaved as you tried to steady your breathing, but it was no use. The way his finger curled inside you, hitting that perfect spot, and the intensity of all these things were driving you insane.

“Please, baby,” he said, his voice softening unexpectedly going from demanding to pleading he lifted his head slightly, his lips glistening with evidence of his work. “Say it again.” His fingers worked you with deliberate precision, his thumb brushing over your most sensitive spot in a way that made your toes curl. His lips hovered just above your skin, his breath warm and teasing as he waited for the words he so desperately wanted to hear." I forgive you Ony fuck." You had tears forming in the corner of your eyes from the pleasurable sensations.

His fingers thrust in and out of you with a steady rhythm, each movement sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. He could feel your walls clamping down around him “So fucking wet,” he muffled into your cunt and your breath hitched, your voice shaky as you moaned. The sensation of his pierced tongue pressing firmly against your clit was driving you insane.

“It’s too muchhh~,” you cooed, your voice trembling as your body began to tense up under the relentless assault of his mouth and fingers. His tongue swirled around your clit the cool metal of the barbell rubbing and teasing your most sensitive spot in ways that left you breathless. Your back arched off the bed, your hips lifting trying to escape the overwhelming sensations, but there was no relief to be found—not that you wanted any. He was everywhere, his fingers plunging deeper as he added another, the stretch intensifying the pleasure to a point that made your toes curl.

The tingling spread throughout your body your nerves alight with sensation as you gripped the sheets beneath you. “Onyyy,” you whined, the sound barely audible over the pounding of your heartbeat in your ears. The combination of his fingers curling inside you and his tongue sucking gently on your clit was too much yet you began grinding against his face wanting to feel more He didn’t stop his hands only holding you steady as his mouth and fingers worked in perfect harmony. You were so close that tight coil in your stomach could snap at any moment. "You're doing so good for me mama."

Your thighs trembled uncontrollably as the sensations built, the pressure in your core growing unbearable. Every thrust of his fingers, every flick and suck of his tongue sent waves of pleasure rippling through you. The cool metal of his tongue piercing seemed to amplify everything, its smooth surface gliding over your clit with a precision that left you gasping for air.

“Onyyy, please,” you whimpered, your voice breaking as you struggled to form coherent words. Your hands flew to his head, fingers tangling in his hair in a futile attempt to ground yourself. But even as you tugged gently, your body betrayed your need, rolling your hips against his face with increasing desperation.

He groaned low in his throat, the vibration sending another jolt of pleasure straight to your core."Breathe baby." he murmured between licks his deep voice rumbling against your sensitive flesh. Your body was on fire, every nerve in your body growing sensitive, Your back arched higher, your chest rising as a broken moan tore from your lips. “I-I can’t” you gasped, the words catching in your throat as the tingling sensation spread through your entire body, consuming you.

“You can,” As if to prove his point, his fingers sped up slightly, curling with even more precision, while his tongue flicked faster over your clit. The combination sent you spiraling, your body tightening as the pressure reached its peak, your eyes rolled back, toes curled, fist bawled up. With a loud cry, your body gave in, shuddering violently as the release hit you. " Fuckkk~" you gasped for air but even as you came undone beneath him, he didn’t stop, his movements slowing but never faltering.

Your body was still trembling from the first release, you soon realized he wasn’t stopping. Onyankopon’s fingers kept their relentless pace, pumping in and out of you with precision, his tongue never leaving your clit. The overstimulation hit you immediately, pulling a broken whimper from your lips. “Onyyy, wait, I—ahh!” Your plea was cut off as his piercing dragged over your clit again, the metal cool against your overheated skin. Your thighs twitched, your hips trying to pull away, but his hands gripped you firmly, holding you exactly where he wanted you.

"Stop tryna run," he groaned The sound sent a shiver through your already over-sensitive body, and you felt your walls fluttering around his fingers. “Please,” you whimpered, though you weren’t sure if you were begging him to stop or keep going. He chuckled darkly against you, the vibration against your clit making your body jolt. " Just give me one more." His fingers curled inside you, pressing against that perfect spot that made your back arch off the bed again. His tongue worked in tandem, flicking and sucking swirling around your clit, he was driving you insane you didn't know much more you could take.

Your breaths came in short, desperate gasps, your body writhing beneath him. The overstimulation blurred into another wave of pleasure, the intensity doubling as your body began to climb toward another peak.“Onyyy,” you cried out, your voice shaky and high-pitched, your hands gripping the sheets tightly You could feel the intense pressure building again faster and stronger than before the pressure in your core coiling tighter and tighter.

He didn’t let up for a second determined to pull you over the edge again. “Let go,” he murmured against you, his voice a deep rumble that sent a shiver through you. His words were all it took. Your second climax washed over you harder and stronger than the first your body convulsing as you let out a loud, broken moan. Your vision blurred, your mind going blank as the overwhelming pleasure consumed you completely. He groaned in satisfaction, holding you steady as your body trembled uncontrollably beneath him. Even as the aftershocks coursed through you, his tongue slowed but didn’t stop, lazily drawing out every last bit of sensation making sure to not leave any small drop anywhere but his mouth. You were completely worn out already, your chest wavering as you tried to catch your breath, your body limp and trembling in his hands.

"You're evil," your voice shaky and hoarse as you tried to regain your breath. Onyankopon let out a breathy chuckle, his dark eyes gleaming with a mix of amusement and need, His lips were slightly swollen, and his skin glistened in the dim lighting with sweat and your release. He looked utterly wrecked, yet still completely in control, a man who knew exactly what he was doing to you. “You can handle it,” he stated simply.

Before you could catch even a moment's breath the metallic click of his belt buckle echoed in the air, Your eyes widened as you watched him, every movement slow and calculated, giving you just enough time to anticipate what was coming. He pulled the belt free, letting it fall to the floor with a soft thud, his hands already working to free himself. “Ony, wait,” you started to say, but your words faltered as he leaned forward, his hands gripping your hips with a firm but gentle hold.

Your body was still trembling, sensitive and overstimulated, but that didn’t seem to faze him. He stroked his length once, twice, and your breath hitched as you took in the sight of him. The raw intensity in his gaze made your stomach flip, heat pooling low in your abdomen despite your exhaustion." I know you can take it, baby."

He pressed the swollen head of his length against your entrance, the warmth of him making you gasp. Your body was still slick, your sensitivity making every sensation sharper, more overwhelming. He didn’t rush, though. Instead, he moved with deliberate slowness sliding the tip of his head up and down your slick slit, the friction igniting every nerve throughout your body. "onyyyy" The smooth glide of his skin against yours had your body reacting in ways you couldn’t control—your hips twitching, your thighs trembling, your breath hitching with every deliberate motion.

"what baby?" He asked his voice so carefree as if he wasn't torturing you right now. The weight of his gaze on you was almost as intense as the sensations he was creating. He kept his movements slow, dragging the head of his cock over your clit in a way that made your back arch off the bed. The swollen tip pressed against the sensitive bundle of nerves just long enough to have you gasping before he slid it back down, teasing your entrance but never fully pushing in.

"Put it in, please." Your thighs quivered, and your hips moved on their own trying to angle yourself to take him in, but he held you in place, his grip firm as his hands rested on your hips, thumbs pressing into your skin in a way that grounded you. "Patience." He continued his torturous teasing, the head of his length sliding just barely inside before pulling back out, leaving you aching and desperate.

Your hands flew to his forearms, nails digging into his skin as you tried to ground yourself, the teasing becoming too much. Your breaths came in short, shallow pants, your chest rising and falling as he dragged the tip of his cock over your entrance one last time before finally pausing, the heat of him pressed firmly against you.

He finally pushed into you his thick length pressing into your entrance at a slow agonizing pace, his cock stretched you out immediately, your walls squeezing against him as he sank deeper inch, by inch filling you up completely. "ahh" a choked gasp escaped your lips, your body tensing at the overwhelming sensations of his stretching you out. "Relax mama" ony mumbled against your skin, his lips brushed against your collarbone, placing soft kisses against your neck as he continued to ease himself into you.

His large hands gripped your waist firmly his thumb stroking small circles around your skin to try to relax you, A deep, soft groan rumbled from his chest, the sound vibrating through you, making your body quiver in response. His head dipped lower, and his forehead came to rest against your shoulder " You know I love you right?" Something about the way he said it raw made your stomach flip. It wasn’t just the words, though. It was the way he looked at you, his gaze, the way his hands gripped you like he never wanted to let go. You could tell he was about to go ham on your insides.

“Ony,” you said flatly, your voice deadpan as you tried to maintain composure. You turned your head just enough to look at him, catching the barest hint of a smirk on his lips. He didn’t flinch, didn’t waver. His dark eyes stayed locked on yours, and he repeated himself, his voice softer this time. “You know I love you, right?” You replied, your tone a mix of anticipation"Yea."

Without hesitation, Onyankopon hooked your legs over his broad shoulders, his hands gripping the backs of your thighs to hold you firmly in place. The shift in position lifted your hips slightly off the bed, angling your body just enough for him to delve even deeper. The stretch was immediate and intense, making your breath hitch as the new angle allowed him to hit spots that had you seeing stars.

He wasted no time, thrusting into you with relentless precision, each stroke was so deep. His hips snapped forward with a steady rhythm, his cock dragging along your walls with a mix of pleasure and pressure that left you gasping. each one hitting a spot inside you that made your toes curl. The force of his thrusts had your body shifting up the bed. The slick sound of your body meeting filled the room, “Fuck,” his voice hoarse, his grip tightening as he picked up his pace. “You’re taking me so well, mama.”

“Ahh—Ony!” you cried out, your voice shaky and high-pitched as you felt the intensity of his pace. Your walls clenched around him tightly, desperate to hold onto him, Your head pressed back into the pillows, your hands clawing at the sheets as you tried to hold on, but the intensity was too much. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoed in the room, mixed with your moans and his low grunts. Your hands flew to his arms, clutching onto his biceps as you tried to steady yourself, but the overwhelming pleasure made it impossible to hold still. “Hah—o-please!” you whimpered, your voice breaking as his cock dragged against every sensitive spot inside you.

“Please what, baby?” he rasped, His eyes never left your face, watching every expression, every gasp, every moan that spilled from your lips. His thumb traced over your skin briefly before he grabbed your hips harder, pulling you down onto him with each thrust. Your entire body trembled, your legs quivering over his shoulders as he leaned in slightly, pressing you further into the mattress. The new depth made you cry out, your hands gripping at his arms desperately as your body writhed beneath him. “Onyyy—I can’t!” you managed to choke out, though your body betrayed you, hips bucking up to meet his every thrust.

And as if the overwhelming sensations weren’t enough, Onyankopon’s thumb dropped down to your swollen clit pressing firmly against the swollen bud rubbing slow, deliberate circles your whole body jerked. A pornographic moan tore from your lips, the combination of his relentless thrusts and the added stimulation pushing you to the brink. Your back arched off the bed, your fingers clutching at the sheets “Oh—Onyyy!” you wailed, your voice trembling as your hips bucked involuntarily, trying to escape the intensity.

"Don't fucking do that shit." he didn’t slow down, his thumb continuing its maddening rhythm, rubbing over your clit with just the right amount of pressure to have your toes curling. Your thighs trembled against his shoulders, your body completely at his mercy as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge. “Onyyy—I c-can’t!” you stammered, your voice breaking as your walls clenched down on him tightly, trying to pull him even deeper.“You can take it,” he murmured, his voice soft but commanding, his thumb applying just a little more pressure as he sped up the circles on your clit. he watched every twitch, every gasp, every helpless moan that spilled from your lips. “You’re gonna take it, mama. All of it.”

The intensity was unbearable, your back arched off the bed every nerve in your body was on fire as his cock continued to hit that perfect spot inside you, and his thumb worked your clit with precision. Your body shook uncontrollably as the sensations built higher and higher, your vision blurred, your breaths coming in ragged pants as the tension coiled tighter and tighter in your abdomen, ready to snap at any second.

"I'm close so ony" you whimpered, your voice trembling as your walls fluttered and clenched around him tightly. He groaned low in his throat, the sensation almost enough to break his own self-control. The way you gripped him was insane pulling him deeper, tighter but nonetheless, he was always gonna make you cum before him. “C’mon, mama. Let it go for me.” His hips kept their steady, deliberate rhythm, plunging into you with precision, each thrust dragging against that perfect spot inside you that had you seeing stars.

Your head fell back against the pillow, a string of broken moans spilling from your lips as the pressure built higher and higher. The way his cock dragged against your walls, the firm strokes of his thumb, the weight of his body pressed against yours—it was all too much, the pleasure mounting to an unbearable peak. “I’m not stopping until you give it to me.” The sound of his voice, the commanding yet tender tone, pushed you over the edge. Your back arched violently off the bed, your mouth falling open in a silent scream as the wave of pleasure crashed over you. Your body clenched around him, trembling as you rode out the intense high, every nerve ending alight with sensation. "That's it, baby. Good job."

Onyankopon didn’t stop, his relentless thrusts driving you further into the mattress as he chased his own release. The air around you was heavy with the sound of his heavy breathing, your cries of pleasure, and the wet, slap of skin against skin. His movements became slightly erratic, sloppy even as he was teetering on the edge of his climax, yet he still maintained enough control to make sure you felt every stroke. “Where you want it, mama?” his voice sounded strained even though he tired not to.

You were completely undone, your body trembling beneath him, your mind fogged with pleasure. Despite how fucked out you felt, you managed to muster enough strength to respond. “In me, please,” you gasped, your voice breaking into a desperate cry. “Fuck,” he groaned, his hips snapping harder against yours as his restraint began to unravel. He shifted slightly, angling his hips just right so that every thrust hit that sensitive spot deep inside you, making you shudder and cling to him even tighter.

“You sure, baby?” he asked, his tone softer now as if giving you one last chance to change your mind. Your legs locked around him pulling him in even closer. “Please, Ony,” you whimpered That was all he needed. His grip on your hips tightened, his pace quickening as he chased his high. Each thrust was deliberate, powerful, driving into you with a force that left you breathless. His forehead pressed against yours, his eyes squeezing shut as he finally let go, spilling into you with a deep, throaty groan." fuck baby." a quiet moan slipped outta his mouth making you wanna cum right there.

You felt the warmth of him fill you, the sensation pushing you to the edge one more time. Your body clenched around him instinctively, milking him for everything he had as you cried out, your own release blending with his. He collapsed onto you, his weight comforting rather than overwhelming as his breaths came out ragged and uneven.

Ony’s strong hand wrapped firmly around your neck bringing you closer until your lips met his in a heated kiss. You tasted your fluids that lingered on his lips His pierced tongue traced a slow, teasing line across your lips, the cool metal adding a tantalizing contrast to the warmth of his touch. As your mouth parted and his tongue pressed against yours, his fingers squeezed your neck slightly his head tilting slightly to deepen the kiss before he pulled away. “You forgive me for real mama?” he murmured against your lips, his voice having genuine sincerity in them, as he held you close.

" Yes Ony I forgive you for real."

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