#and when you pull it out it gets dragged into the light box

[lalalychee-x]

"Just this once, Officer?" Joel Miller x reader — NSFW!

♡ After a long day of working at the diner, you're a little too desperate to get home. Who can blame you? The cops don't actually hunt down speeders like they have nothing better to do...usually. And you're working on just above minimum wage, so you REALLY can't afford a ticket right now...

cw: afab reader, accidental creampie, sleazy cop Joel (but can you reallyyyy blame him? You're a bloody sweet angel in a striped blouse, checkered apron and shiney brown flats), car sex, semi-public sex, sex on a highway, mostly-clothed sex...

word count: 2896...

It’s nearly midnight when you finally peel off your apron and clock out. The fluorescent lights of the diner hum like flies, your feet ache in those shiny brown flats, and the scent of fries and burnt coffee clings to your skin like regret. The place was dead tonight. A few old men nursing pie slices, a trucker with too many questions about your name. Tips weren’t worth shit. Not even enough to cover what’s left in your gas tank.

You just want to get home.

The road’s empty, dark, the kind of thick Southern night that sweats through the cotton of your striped blouse and sinks into your bones. The world hums low around you—crickets, heat, your engine working too hard as your car coasts well over the limit down a two-lane highway. Just for a moment. You tell yourself it’s just for a moment.

And then—

Flashing red and blue in your rearview mirror.

“Shit,” you hiss, slamming on the brakes just enough to make your heart climb into your throat. You weren’t even that far over. Ten, maybe fifteen? You could cry. You don’t have the money for a damn ticket, and the last thing you need tonight is some clipboard-happy cop on a power trip over a woman because that's what the patriarchy's settled in.

You flick your signal and pull over, biting the inside of your cheek. The lights slow behind you. Park. Engine still idling.

“Goddamn it,” you mutter, already reaching for your glove box like muscle memory. License. Insurance. Bullshit smile.

You see him in the rearview. The car door creaks open behind the wash of lights, and a figure steps out—big. Broad shoulders, dark uniform, thick hands resting near the belt. Slowly, deliberately, he makes his way to your side window.

You sigh, roll it down just enough to be polite, and glance up with your best tired-innocent face.

“Good evening, officer,” you say sweetly, voice soft and worn-out with a twinge of your Southern drawl still hanging on, like old honey.

He leans forward a little, tired eyes raking over your face, blouse, then flats—then back up again. His hand rests lazy on the roof of your car.

“Ma’am,” he says, slow as molasses. “You know what you were doin’ back there?”

You lick your lips, nodding, already resigned to the inevitable. “Yeah. I was speeding.”

His eyes drag over you—slow, like he’s taking inventory. Striped blouse, buttons a little crooked from your rushed change after closing. Apron still tied around your waist like you forgot it was even there. Shiny brown flats, scuffed just enough to betray the hours you’ve spent on your feet.

Joel sighs like this night’s just been handed to him in a bad dream. His fingers pinch the bridge of his nose, brows drawn.

“It’s late,” he mutters, voice low and scratchy like he hasn’t slept properly in a few days. “And I don’t wanna have to give you a ticket, ma’am…” A beat. “Can I see your license?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you mumble, already rummaging through your bag. Receipts. Lip gloss. A pen that doesn’t work. No license. Your heart stutters.

You pretend to still be digging while he stands there, patient, leaning just a little on your window frame. The air between you smells like diner grease, asphalt heat, and him—coffee and cigarettes with the faintest bite of cedarwood cologne. The kind of scent that sticks to flannel and flirts with your thoughts.

“Shit,” you murmur, still flipping through your wallet. “I don’t… have it. I think I left it in my other purse.”

Joel exhales, long and put-upon, and glances out into the road like maybe he could pretend this didn’t just happen. But then he turns back, eyes narrowing just a hair.

“Speedin’,” he ticks off, holding up one finger, “and no license.” He lets the silence hang before he adds, tired as sin, “I gotta give you a ticket, ma’am.”

You groan, dropping your head back against the seat. “Seriously?”

“‘Fraid so.” His tone’s a drawl now, a little too casual for someone ruining your week. “Rules are rules.”

He reaches to unclip the little pad from his belt, like this is just routine. “I’m just as tired as you are, sugar. Make this easy for the both of us and just take the ticket.”

“C’mon,” you whine a little, tossing him a playful pout. “Let it slide, officer. I had a long day. Two drunk truckers and a kid who tried to steal a slice of pie outta the warmer. I’ve been on my feet since lunch.”

He gives you a look over the edge of his clipboard. Dry. Curious.

“You flirtin’ to get outta this, sugar?” he asks, already amused.

You grin. “Only if it’s working.”

He huffs a half-laugh, shaking his head. “Ain’t nothin’ workin’ tonight. My feet hurt, my partner called in sick, and some asshole spilled chili in the back of the cruiser. Smells like a dead possum.”

“Jesus.”

“I know.”

“...That bad, huh?”

He nods solemnly. “Chili and onions.”

You gasp. “That’s criminal.”

He cracks a smile at that, lazy and reluctant. “See? Now that’s the offense you should be writin’ up.”

“Then you better let me go,” you tease, elbow resting against the open window. “I’m a victim here.”

He looks at you again, really looks this time—eyes flicking across your cheek, your mouth, your tired smile. Like he’s measuring something. The tension in his shoulders hasn’t softened, but it’s shifted. Less official. Less cop.

“Yeah?” he says quietly. “Victim, huh?”

“Yup,” You say, popping the 'p', loudly.

You can feel the way his eyes linger now, still holding that small amused expresseion like he’s trying not to let it get comfortable on his face. There's a beat of silence. It stretches.

“So,” you say slowly, shifting in your seat and letting your fingers graze the edge of the recliner switch just beside your thigh, all casual. “You got a wife or somethin’ waitin’ for you back home, officer?”

Joel arches a brow, clearly entertained. It was probably the most interesting thing he's seen all day. “Now that’s a real left turn, sweetheart.”

“You didn’t answer.”

“No wife,” he says, tipping his chin, still leaning lazily against your window like this is his front porch. “No woman, either.”

You hum like you’re surprised. “Really?” Your voice laces syrup-thick sarcasm. “A charming civil servant like you? Guess they just don’t make ‘em like they used to.”

Joel snorts. “Civil servant,” he echoes like it’s the funniest thing he’s heard all day.

“I’m just sayin’…” You flash a small grin, lips parted just enough to toe the line. “You give off a little… pent-up energy.”

He tilts his head at you, eyes narrowing with a new kind of curiosity now. Less bored. More alert. That eyebrow of his arches just slightly higher, and his mouth tugs into something that isn’t exactly a smile.

“Pent up, huh?” he repeats, slow.

You shrug, still playing the innocent card with a twang of devil. “Yeah. You know. Tense. Like you haven’t had a good fuck in… a while.”

The silence that follows is razor-edged and electric, the kind that makes your skin tighten and the back of your neck prickle. Joel’s jaw ticks. He doesn’t break eye contact. Doesn’t move.

You recline the seat back just a touch—barely noticeable, but deliberate enough that his eyes flicker to the motion. Your fingers still rest near the button.

His tongue wets his bottom lip. He exhales through his nose like he’s finally made a decision. The ticket pad in his hand—your ticket—he slides it slowly back into the pocket of his jeans.

“You in a rush to get anywhere, darlin’?” he asks, voice dipped into something low and gruff now, rough like gravel under tires.

You blink, lips twitching. “No, sir.”

He straightens up, clears his throat like that’ll somehow make this cleaner, less sleazy, less immoral.

It doesn’t.

“You got anythin’ else that ain't your license in there, sugar? ” he hums.

You don’t.

And you already know damn well, repeating with a shit-eating grin, “No, sir.”

You repeat, slowly turning the little button on the side of the seat with a click-click-click.

Now you're half out the driver’s seat of your busted-up sedan, your back pressed awkwardly to the worn upholstery, legs dangling out into the warm night.

Your checkered apron’s still tied messily at your waist, bunched up around your hips like it was trying to cover anything—like it ever could. Stockings stretched and torn just below the hem, ringed tight around your knees. The glossy brown of your flats catch the flicker of highway lights every time a distant car passes by, none of them slowing down.

And Joel—Joel’s standing between your legs, one hand braced on the car roof, the other dragging slow and rough up the inside of your thigh. He looks wrecked already, like the idea of you like this has short-circuited something in that cop brain of his.

“Christ,” he mutters, staring down at you. His gaze drags over the undone buttons of your striped blouse, the way your bra’s come unclasped at the front like it gave up the ghost. “What the hell are you doin’ dressed like a dessert menu, sugar?”

You huff a laugh, breath shaky as his fingers ghost over the crease of your thigh. “Makin’ ends meet. Y’wanna comment on my fashion choices or—?”

He cuts you off by pressing two fingers right to your cunt, dragging slick through your folds, spreading it slow.

“You’re soaked,” he says, voice gone thick.

You shrug, teeth catching your bottom lip. “Worked a double. Real tired. Told you I needed some relief.”

Joel’s not teasing anymore. Not with his words. Not with his hands, either. One big palm grabs the back of your thigh, lifting and adjusting until your hips are tipped just right. He steps in closer, belt already undone, jeans tugged down just enough.

He strokes himself once, twice—his cock thick and already leaking, before he lines up and pushes in, one slow, deliberate thrust that eases the air right out of you.

You gasp, fingers digging into the seat as he watches so damn carefully, watching his cock get wet and slick. Watching the way your cunt stretches just to fit him.

Joel groans, deep and low in his chest. “Fuckkkk, m’, gonna have to forgive that ticket now” he breathes. “You feel that?”

You nod, blinking up at him, eyes wide and half-lidded, mouth parted in disbelief.

“I said—” His hips roll forward, sharply like he's angry—cock bullying into your cunt as he does, “—you feel that?”

“Y-Yeah,” you choke out, stars flashing behind your eyes.

And he laughs, rough and satisfied, hand fisting in the side of your apron. “Good. ‘Cause you’re takin’ every goddamn inch.”

The car rocks with every thrust, tires creaking gently against gravel as Joel pounds into you—slow at first, then faster, rougher, until your thighs are trembling and the edge of the seat digs hard into your spine.

You can hear everything—the wet slap of skin on skin, the low grunt of his breath, the obscene, messy squelch every time he drags his cock back out of your dripping cunt. It’s filthy. Loud. So fucking loud.

You try to bite it back, a moan caught in your throat like you’re still in that diner, still being polite. But Joel’s not having it.

“C’mon,” he pants, one hand braced beside your head on the seat, the other gripping your thigh hard enough to bruise. “Don’t hold back now, sugar. Ain’t no one out here gonna hear you. It’s just you ‘n me—nothin’ but highway ghosts.”

You moan as he slams in deep, the kind of sound that tears out your chest without permission—raw and high and needy.

“There she is,” he growls, breath hitching as your walls flutter around him. “That’s it. That’s my good little whore.”

Something about the word makes your whole body seize, back arching off the seat, cunt clenching so tight around him he hisses between his teeth. It’s primal. Instinct. Your hips buck up toward him on their own, chasing it—chasing him—like your body was just waiting for someone to fuck the sweetness right out of it.

“Joel—Officer—” you gasp, nails clawing for purchase on the armrest.

He bends lower, the sweat off his neck dampening your collar, his voice right in your ear, slick with sin. “Ain’t it filthy, sugar’? Gettin’ fucked like this with your ass hangin’ out the car door?”

Your mouth opens but no words come—only a high, warbled moan as he thrusts harder.

“Any poor trucker could roll by and see you,” he murmurs against your throat, lips brushing your skin. “See how wrecked you are for me. You like that? Bein’ used like a dirty little thing where anyone could watch?”

You whimper, nodding fast—embarrassed, but not enough to stop. Not even close.

He laughs again, low and dark, fucking into you harder now, his hips slapping against yours in quick, brutal rhythm. “Goddamn, look at you,” he groans. “Takin’ me so good. Bet you needed this bad, huh? All dolled up like a pretty treat at work, but this is what you wanted. Nothin’ sweet about you now.”

Your whole body’s trembling, cunt stretched open around him, the car seat soaked, your breath sobbing out between pleads and curses. Every thrust threatens to knock you out of your goddamn mind.

“Gonna cum,” you choke, hand flying down to rub your clit in messy little circles. “Fuck, Joel—”

“Yeah? Then be loud, sugar,” he pants, thrusting deeper. “Let the highway hear what a good, law-bidin’ girl sounds like.”

You're shaking underneath him, blouse clinging to your skin with sweat, bra hanging useless around your ribs. Your apron’s bunched at your waist, sticky and damp, and your panties are tangled somewhere near your ankles—if not lost completely in the footwell.

Joel’s got you half hanging out of the car, the door wide open like the world should see, like he wants it to. One of your legs is hooked over his shoulder, the other bent up against the dashboard, your pussy stuffed full and wet around him.

You can hear how soaked you are, every thrust filthy and wet, slapping echoes swallowed by the endless, empty stretch of highway.

And you’re loud—so loud it would be humiliating if he weren’t moaning just as hard, panting over you with that sweat-slick jaw and furrowed brow.

"Goddamn, sugar," he grits, fucking into you hard enough to make the shocks creak. "You’re squeezin’ me so tight. You tryin’ to make me knock y’ up?"

"Maybe," you gasp, teasing, breath hitching. "Is it working?"

He groans, like you just knocked the wind out of him. “Shit, yeah it is. But I wanna hear it—go on, sugar.”

"Joel—"

"Ain’t no one gonna hear you out here. It’s just us and the fuckin’ stars. So be as loud as you want, sugar—be a fuckin’ slut for me."

Your fingers are working your clit fast now, frantic, desperate.

"Joel, I—oh, god, I’m gonna—"

“That’s it,” he groans, hips grinding deep and perfect, dragging against that spot inside you like he knows what he’s doing. “Cum on it, sweetheart.”

And fuck—you do.

You cum hard, twitching and moaning, head thrown back, thighs quaking. Something about it makes your whole body seize, back arching off the seat, cunt clenching so tight around him he hisses between his teeth. Your hips buck up toward him on their own, chasing it—chasing him—like your body was just waiting for someone to fuck the sweetness right out of it..

“Shit— fuck, I can’t—” Joel gasps, hips jerking.

You know he’s supposed to pull out.

You both know.

But your arms are locked around his neck, dragging him closer, keeping him deep, and he just lets go—

Spilling hot and thick in your cunt with a broken, wrecked groan.

“Fuck,” he rasps, still pulsing inside you. “Shouldn’t’ve done that. Christ.”

You're breathless, boneless, spread wide in the driver’s seat, both of you panting into each other’s mouths. You blink up at him, dazed.

“Do I get off that ticket, Officer?” You gasp, lips twitching into whatever weak, sassy expression you could.

You’re breathless, boneless, spread wide in the driver’s seat, both of you panting into each other’s mouths. You blink up at him, dazed.

“Do I get off that ticket, Officer?” you gasp, lips twitching into whatever weak, sassy expression you could manage, hips still trembling with aftershocks.

Joel leans back slightly, eyes raking over the mess he’s made of you — your ruined stockings, your open blouse, the shine slicking his cock as he slowly pulls out with a low hiss. He tucks himself back in with one hand and rests the other on the edge of your door.

“Y’ got off plenty,” he drawls, voice rough. Then, after a beat, “But yeah, sugar... consider the ticket forgiven.”

“Good, because you owe me a pill in the morning,” You groan, feeling his cum almost rush out of your abused cunt, “And those things are expensive.”

“Suppose I do,” He huffs, amused and fiddling with his belt, clinking it back in place, “Smart lass, ain't y’? Why don't you hand me y’ digits so I can get y’ that pill in the mornin’?”

♡ Please do not modify, steal, plagarise or post on other platforms without asking. Thank you!

divider creds: @enchanthings-a

[riqomi]

KITCHEN ROMANCE ──── 엔하이픈

엔하이픈˖ 𝑓em!r .. g. fluff. suggestive ──── BOOKSHELF ( 1669 ) tw: kissing. lmk if there's more.

heeseung

the morning sunlight slants through the kitchen blinds, dust motes swirling in the soft golden haze. you’re standing at the island in heeseung’s oversized shirt — the one that falls to mid-thigh and smells like him. he’s pouring pancake batter into a hot skillet while you whip cream by hand, taking turns sneaking glances at each other and sharing sleepy smiles.

“careful,” he says, walking past and trailing a finger over your arm. “you’re gonna overwhip that.”

you hum in response, too busy watching him flip a pancake perfectly. “since when are you a breakfast expert?”

“since i started trying to impress you.”

heeseung grins at you, playful and lazy, like the world could wait.

you cross to him, sliding your arms around his waist from behind. he leans into your touch instinctively, head tilting slightly so your lips brush his neck.

“good morning,” you murmur.

he turns, hand on your cheek before you can pull away. his kiss is slow — thick with sleep and sugar and affection. your hands slide up his back, drawing him closer. he sets the spatula down blindly on the counter, both hands now resting low on your hips.

the scent of warm pancakes fills the air as the kiss deepens. he tastes like maple syrup and something entirely his — warm, grounding. you pull him in by the collar of his t-shirt, mouths moving together like it’s instinct.

when you part, you both exhale soft laughs.

“we’re gonna burn breakfast,” he says, brushing his thumb along your jaw.

“worth it.”

heeseung laughs, resting his forehead to yours. “let’s eat first. then i want more of that.”

you lean in, brushing a kiss to the corner of his lips. “pancakes and kisses. i like this menu.”

and just like that, the morning stretches on — sweet, slow, and golden.

jay

jay’s kitchen has that cool, laid-back vibe — vinyl records stacked in a corner, a guitar resting against the fridge. tonight, he’s cooking something simple but delicious: a homemade stir-fry with a spicy kick.

you watch him move with effortless grace, chopping and stirring with precision. his black shirt clings to his lean frame, sleeves rolled up, revealing lean forearms dusted with a faint shimmer of freckles.

“hey, pass me the garlic,” he says without looking up.

you hand it over, your fingers brushing briefly. jay’s eyes flicker to yours, a smirk playing on his lips.

“you know, the best part of cooking is the company.”

you grin, stepping closer. “is that so?”

he nods, sliding his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against him.

“yeah, especially when i get to steal a kiss or two.”

his lips find yours, slow and teasing at first, then deeper, full of warmth and a bit of playful fire. one hand cups your face, thumb stroking your cheek, while the other sneaks down to rest on your hip.

you melt against him, the stir-fry forgotten as the heat between you builds. his breath mingles with yours, and the scent of garlic and soy sauce becomes a backdrop to the moment.

when you finally pull apart, breathless, jay grins wider.

“we’ll finish cooking later,” he promises.

you laugh, tucking your face into his neck. “i’m okay with that.”

and just like that, the kitchen becomes your stage — a place for music, food, and stolen moments that feel like the sweetest song.

jake

it’s well past midnight. the kind of hour where silence fills every room and even the city seems to hold its breath. you’re both awake — not out of necessity, but because you just couldn’t sleep. instead, jake’s dragged you to the kitchen to make “emergency brownies,” barefoot and wrapped in one of his hoodies, sleeves too long on your arms.

the kitchen glows in amber light. there’s flour on the counter, a box of brownie mix open, and jake’s half-assembled ingredients scattered around. he’s humming a song under his breath, mixing with one hand, the other holding a mug of coffee.

“you really do drink coffee at midnight,” you tease, sipping from your own mug.

he grins, leaning against the counter. “what can i say? i like living dangerously.”

you step closer, peering into the bowl. “are those... chocolate chips or raisins?”

he feigns offense. “chocolate chips. have some faith in me.”

you reach for a handful and toss one at him. it bounces off his hoodie, and he gasps. “you did not just start a food fight in my sacred brownie hour.”

you laugh — and he sets the bowl down slowly.

“oh, you’re in trouble now.”

before you can escape, his arms are around you, spinning you against the counter. he looks down at you, his smile softening. "you’re dangerous."

your smile fades into something quieter, warmer. “so stop me.”

jake’s lips are on yours in a second. the kiss is warm, unhurried — like the whole world paused so he could kiss you properly. his hands are careful, but strong as they slide to your lower back, guiding you closer. you taste a bit of chocolate on his tongue, feel the slow exhale against your cheek when you deepen it.

you stay tangled in that kiss longer than you should — so long the oven beeps and the mix sits abandoned.

jake finally pulls away, forehead resting to yours, his voice low. “we forgot the eggs.”

“i forgot everything,” you murmur.

he kisses you again, slow and smiling. “we’ll bake after. stay here first.”

you do. in his arms, warm and caffeinated, midnight never felt more perfect.

sunghoon

the sun filters softly through the sheer curtains, bathing the kitchen in a warm glow. sunghoon is already there, chopping vegetables with focused care, but his casual shirt is unbuttoned just enough to tease the outline of his collarbone. you slip into the kitchen quietly, wearing one of his oversized shirts, your bare feet brushing the cold tile.

“morning,” he says without turning, voice low and a little sleepy.

you lean against the counter behind him, watching the way his muscles flex with each slice.

“you’re up early.”

“had a weird dream,” he admits, turning to look at you with a slow smile. “needed to make breakfast to shake it off.”

you step closer, running your fingers along his arm, feeling the warmth beneath the fabric.

“want some company?”

his eyes darken, lips curving. “always.”

you reach for a bowl of cherry tomatoes and toss one at him playfully. it bounces off his shoulder, and he chuckles.

“hey, you’re dangerous in the kitchen.”

you step behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist, your head resting just under his chin.

“only with you.”

he spins you around gently, pressing his lips to yours — slow, deliberate. his hand cups your face, thumb tracing your cheekbone. the heat of the kiss spreads like wildfire, making your heart race.

the chopping forgotten, you both sway together in the middle of the kitchen, lost in the moment. when he pulls back, breathless, his forehead rests against yours.

“we should eat,” he murmurs.

“after this, i’m not so sure.”

he grins, eyes shining with affection. “me neither.”

and the morning stretches on, filled with whispered kisses and quiet laughter, the simplest moments becoming the sweetest memories.

sunoo

the kitchen is flooded with afternoon light, making everything glow with warmth. sunoo’s already bustling around, humming a soft tune as he chops fresh herbs. you’re perched on the counter in his sweatshirt, watching his every move.

“here, taste this,” he says, offering you a spoonful of sauce he just finished stirring.

you take it and grin. “perfect as always.”

sunoo’s cheeks flush, but he just smiles wider and leans against the counter beside you. “only because i have a good assistant.”

you nudge him playfully. “is that me?”

“definitely.”

you reach out, tracing lazy circles on his forearm. his eyes meet yours, sparkling with quiet affection. slowly, he leans down, lips brushing yours in a kiss that’s gentle and full of promise.

the world outside falls away as your hands find his hair, pulling him closer. the warmth of the kitchen, the scent of fresh basil and tomatoes, and the softness of his lips make time stand still.

when you pull apart, breathless, he grins. “food can wait a little longer.”

you laugh softly. “i’m okay with that.”

sunoo wraps his arms around you, and the afternoon stretches on with whispered secrets and stolen kisses, the simplest moments made unforgettable by being together.

jungwon

it’s a lazy afternoon, and sunlight streams through the windows, warming the small kitchen where you and jungwon have decided to bake together. flour dusts the air, settling on the counter and your cheeks alike. jungwon’s wearing a loose t-shirt, and you can see the slight crinkle of concentration on his face as he tries to follow the recipe.

“i think we missed the sugar,” he admits sheepishly, looking over at you with a playful grin.

you laugh, reaching for the bag. “you’re the best at missing the simplest stuff.”

he shrugs, pulling you close. “good thing you’re here to keep me in line.”

you smile up at him, hands resting on his chest. he leans down, brushing a gentle kiss over your lips — sweet, soft, and full of affection.

“come on,” he says, taking your hand, “let’s finish this and then i’ll make it up to you.”

the batter forgotten for a moment, he lifts you effortlessly onto the counter. his hands are warm as they trace your sides, and the kitchen is filled with the scent of vanilla and cinnamon mingling with his skin.

the kiss deepens slowly, the world outside fading away as you both melt into the moment. when you finally part, breathless, jungwon presses his forehead to yours.

“now, sugar — both kinds,” he murmurs, his eyes sparkling.

you laugh softly, pulling him down for one last kiss before you return to baking together, hearts full and spirits light.

niki

it starts on a rainy evening. the kind where the air is heavy and the city glows behind the foggy kitchen windows. you’re both barefoot on the tiled floor, ingredients spread messily across the counter: chopped garlic, vibrant bell peppers, chili paste, soy sauce. ni-ki’s playlist is playing low in the background — hip-hop beats that sync with the patter of rain.

he’s standing across from you in a hoodie and sweatpants, sleeves rolled up, brows furrowed as he watches you cut a cucumber — wrong.

“you’re butchering it,” he says flatly.

you raise a brow. “you’re bossy.”

“i’m just right,” he quips, stepping behind you to guide your hands. you feel the brush of his chest against your back as his hand wraps around yours, adjusting the knife with practiced ease.

the air shifts — quiet, heavy. his breath grazes your cheek.

“better,” he murmurs.

you try to keep cool. “you always this close when you teach someone to slice vegetables?”

his lips twitch into a smirk. “only when i want to kiss them after.”

you glance over your shoulder — he’s already looking down at you, gaze dipped, mouth parted just slightly. you turn to face him fully, hands still wrapped in his. his eyes search yours, then fall to your lips.

he kisses you, slow but sure — one hand on your waist, the other slipping to your neck. the kiss deepens quickly, your hands finding the hem of his hoodie. his tongue brushes yours with a soft groan, and you feel it — the spark, the heat, the pull. he lifts you onto the counter, standing between your legs, kissing you like he’s been holding back all night.

when you part, breathless, he presses his forehead to yours. “food can wait.”

you smirk. “but i’m hungry.”

he leans back just enough to smile. “then let’s work up an appetite.”

likes, feedback and reblogs much appreciated. remember requests are open !!

[cherrywriterrr]

storage sin

cowboy!rafe x reader

warnings: mdni. 18+ smut, rough sexual tension in a public place (supply closet), possessiveness, light choking, dirty talk, unprotected sex, messy, jealousy

you’ve been ignoring him all day.

and he’s pissed.

not in the “throw something” kind of way—no, rafe’s too composed for that. too smug. he just watches. eyes trailing you every time you walk past, a subtle lick of his lips when you bend down, a slow roll of his jaw when you talk too sweet to someone else.

you feel it burning on your back like a fucking spotlight.

you told him this morning—“act normal at work. i mean it.”

but now?

now your ass is swaying a little too much as you walk into the back of the barn where the supplies are stored. arms full of rope. tank top clinging to your skin from the southern heat.

and of course he follows. door clicks behind you. locks.

you whip your head around.

“rafe—”

you don’t get to finish.

he crowds you, cornering you into the shelf. thick forearm braced over your head. his jaw is clenched. mouth tight. eyes black.

“can’t do it,” he mutters.

“do what?”

he drags a calloused hand over your side, down your thigh. firm. hungry.

“act like i didn’t have my cock buried in you two nights ago.”

you shiver. “rafe, we’re at work—”

“uh-huh,” he cuts, pressing closer. “you been struttin’ around here in those little shorts like i didn’t fuck you raw over hay. like i don’t own this pussy.”

you clench at the memory, but roll your eyes anyway, defiant.

“you’re not in charge of me,” you mutter.

his hand wraps around your throat—gentle but firm. thumb on your jaw, angling your face up.

“you say that again,” he says low, “and i’m gonna make you scream ‘yes sir’ till someone knocks on this damn door.”

your breath catches. thighs press together.

“take your panties off,” he says.

you hesitate. he leans in, nose grazing yours.

“unless you want me to rip ‘em.”

you shove your shorts down. panties too.

“good girl,” he rasps.

he barely unzips his jeans. just enough to pull himself out.

and he’s already hard. leaking.

he spins you fast, presses your front into the shelf, bends you.

“you’re gonna be quiet?” he asks, lining himself up.

“no,” you whisper, teasing.

he slams in. all at once.

you cry out—hand flying to cover your mouth.

he growls against your ear. “that’s what i fucking thought.”

his pace is brutal. shelf rattling. boxes tipping. sweat beading on both of you.

“this pussy’s mine now, huh?” he grits. “you goin’ home with me after?”

you nod, whimpering.

he grabs your throat again, turns your face so he can kiss you—messy, desperate.

“say it,” he demands.

“…yours,” you breathe, trembling.

he pulls out just before finishing, jerks himself fast, cumming all over your lower back with a groan.

you slump against the shelf, wrecked. breathing uneven. legs barely working.

he kisses your shoulder.

“…meet me at the truck in twenty,” he says.

then he’s gone.

leaves you standing there, dripping, shaking, ruined.

door clicks unlocked behind him.

tags: 🏷️ @rafesbabygirlx @rafesfavegf

[alltimecharlo]

i am begging for a (small) continuation of vet! mack and rookie! will 🥹 like the (full) team learning about them or them being an official couple and living together few years later!!

of course!! here they are moving in together 🥹🩵 fic under the cut <3

Will wakes up first.

Which is weird, because Mack’s usually the one up early, sneaking out of bed to go for his five-mile run like a lunatic. But this morning, it’s just Will, blinking against the soft morning light slanting through the still-bare windows of their new place. He can hear birds outside, the quiet hum of distant traffic, and Mack’s slow, steady breathing right next to him.

They moved in yesterday. It’s not even fully real yet.

There are still boxes stacked against the walls. The couch is half-built in the living room. Mack cursed at the coffee table legs for a full hour before giving up and declaring it a problem for future them. But the bed is made. The sheets are soft and familiar, and Will is curled into Mack’s side, their legs tangled together under the covers.

Mack’s warm. He always runs hot. Will presses his nose to his shoulder and grins to himself, giddy and full of it.

They live together.

He gets to wake up to this every morning.

Mack makes a quiet, sleepy noise and shifts, arm tightening around Will’s waist automatically. “You’re awake?”

Will hums. “Mhm.”

“Too early,” Mack mumbles, dragging him closer.

Will can’t stop smiling. “You’re just saying that because there’s still furniture to build.”

“There’s always furniture to build. I wanna stay in bed.”

Will laughs, pressing a kiss to Mack’s collarbone. “We can’t stay in bed. I promised I’d make waffles this morning. First breakfast in the new place.”

Mack cracks one eye open, looks down at him. He’s got pillow lines across his cheek and his hair’s a total disaster, but Will thinks he looks stupidly good. “You remembered that?”

“Obviously. I planned the whole menu. There’s whipped cream in the fridge. And strawberries.”

“You’re such a nerd.”

“You like that I’m a nerd.”

Mack grins, eyes crinkling. “Yeah. I really do.”

Will rolls away dramatically, throwing off the covers. “Okay. Time to christen our kitchen.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Mack groans, grabbing for him. But he’s grinning, and he follows Will out of bed like he can’t help himself.

They shuffle barefoot into the kitchen, still in sleep shirts and boxers. Will opens the fridge with a flourish like he’s presenting a Michelin-starred prep station. Mack leans against the counter and watches him pull out ingredients, eyes soft.

“You’re really happy about this,” Mack says, like he’s just now realizing it.

Will looks up from the mixing bowl, beaming. “Of course I am. This is—this is ours, Mack. We’ve lived out of hotel rooms and rental apartments for years. This is home.”

Mack nods slowly, like the word settles deep into his chest. “Yeah. It is.”

“And I get to live with you,” Will says, walking over to him, flour on his cheek and everything. “Which, you know. Perks.”

Mack loops his arms around Will’s waist and pulls him in. “You’re sappy as hell.”

Will shrugs, biting back a grin. “You like that too.”

“I do,” Mack admits. Then he kisses him.

It starts as a gentle thing, soft and easy. But Mack is always a little greedy when it comes to him, and it deepens quickly. When they finally pull apart, Will’s giggling, breathless against his mouth.

“You gonna let me finish the waffles?”

“Eventually,” Mack says, and kisses him again.

Will lets him.

Because there’s no rush. They’ve got all the time in the world now.

♡

[slut4smokemoore09]

When You Know, You Know "Love"

Summer, Mississippi — 1998

The cicadas outside were screaming again. It was late but not dark—one of those Mississippi dusks where the sky held onto its last bit of peach before turning purple. The living room was a little too warm, even with the box fan spinning lazily in the window. Lauryn Hill's "Ex-Factor" played softly from the kitchen radio, the tape warbling a little as it looped.

Sammie was lying on the floor, hands behind his head, eyes on the ceiling like it was saying something. Evangelize sat sideways on the couch, legs tucked up under her, flipping through a photo album that belonged to Annie. Her fingers stopped on a Polaroid of Annie and Smoke in 92—Annie had red lipstick, big hair, and was holding a baby bottle like it was champagne.

She smiled a little to herself, then flicked her eyes toward Sammie, who hadn't moved in ten minutes.

"Why you always be actin' like the ceiling talkin' to you?" she said, not looking up.

Sammie smirked. "It do. You just don't listen right."

She snorted, kept flipping. "Whatever."

He turned his head a little, caught her silhouette in the warm lamp light. She looked soft, like a dream you don't wanna wake from.

But he ain't say none of that.

Just hummed something low under his breath. Maybe a beat he'd been working on. Maybe her name.

In the Kitchen...

Annie was wiping down the counter, her robe tied tight, and her headscarf wrapped neatly. She paused when she saw Evangelize pass by to get some water. Without looking up, Annie called softly, "Come here for a sec, baby."

Evangelize turned, blinking. "Me?"

"Mmhmm." Annie nodded her toward the back porch.

Outside, the screen door squeaked. The summer air was thick, but the breeze was nice.

Annie leaned against the rail, arms crossed. "You know I see how you look at him, right?"

Evangelize froze, wide-eyed. "Who?"

Annie gave her a girl, don't play dumb look. "Sammie. That boy be gettin' on your last nerve, but you light up soon as he come in a room."

Evangelize looked away, biting her lip. "Ain't nothin' goin' on."

"Mmhmm." Annie took a sip of her sweet tea. "You don't gotta lie to me. I ain't gon' tell Smoke. I ain't gon' tell Stack. This between us. But I want you to think 'bout something."

Evangelize stayed quiet.

"That boy got pain in him. Quiet kinda pain. And you... you soft. In a good way. You patient. But baby, don't go pourin' your whole heart into someone who don't know how to hold it yet."

Evangelize's throat tightened. "I ain't tryna fix nobody."

"I know," Annie said gently. "But love got a sneaky way of makin' you think it's your job. Just... take your time. Let him meet you halfway, if he ever brave enough."

Evangelize nodded slowly, eyes glassy now. "I hear you."

Annie smiled, pulled her into a hug. "That's all I need."

Meanwhile, Back in the Bedroom...

Smoke sat on the edge of the bed, twisting the cap back on a bottle of lotion. Sammie walked in, plopped down on the mattress, and exhaled like he was tired of pretending all day.

"Something wrong wit' you," Smoke said plainly, not even looking up.

"I'm fine."

"Boy," Smoke said, pulling a blunt from his sock drawer, "you about as fine as that busted-ass fan in the livin' room."

Sammie chuckled a little. "Aight."

Smoke sparked up, took a drag, let it out slow. "You like her."

Sammie froze. "Who?"

"Evangelize."

Sammie rubbed the back of his neck. "She coo."

Smoke gave him a don't insult me side eye. "She more than coo and you know it."

Sammie was quiet. Then: "Even if I did... I ain't tryna mess up nothin'. We all livin' in the same spot. That's messy."

"She grown. You grown. It ain't messy if you honest."

"I ain't ready for all that," Sammie said low.

Smoke nodded like he understood. "Then don't do nothin' dumb. But don't keep starin' at her like she the moon and you a wolf. That girl feel everything you don't say."

Sammie's jaw clenched. "It ain't that simple."

"I ain't say it was. But you keep lettin' it build, one day it's gon' burst. And I ain't cleanin' up none of that fallout."

Sammie stood, stretched, pulled his shirt over his head. "I ain't tryna be that dude, man. That messy dude."

Smoke put out the blunt. "Then don't be. Be better."

Back in the hallway, Evangelize walked past Sammie on her way to the bathroom. He stepped aside, let her pass, then turned like he was gon' say something.

She turned too.

They looked at each other.

Didn't say nothin'.

But both of them knew.

The air between them crackled with everything unspoken.

She gave a small smile. He gave one back.

Then she disappeared into the bathroom.

And Sammie stood there for a long time.

Still sayin' nothin'.

Stack's laughter had faded into snores from the room down the hall, and Smoke had long since flicked off the porch light. The only sound now was the fan spinning its tired rhythm in the window, stirring warm air that smelled faintly of Ivory soap, old wood, and lemon oil.

Evangelize rolled over under the covers, the twin bed creaking softly beneath her.

Sammie was beside her, on his back, one arm folded behind his head, the other across his chest like he was guarding something. The room was dark, lit only by a crack of moonlight slipping through the blinds.

They shared a bed now. That had started a few weeks ago, casually. No one made a big deal of it. The house was small, the rooms were full, and they were used to each other by now.

Still, lying next to him like this—quiet, close—made her heart beat too loud sometimes.

She kept her breathing steady, eyes closed.

Sammie shifted softly. He thought she was asleep.

She felt the blanket tug when he turned his head toward her. The bed dipped just enough to feel him looking.

And then... his voice, low. Ragged. Like it had been caught in his throat for days.

"I love you."

Three words, whispered like a confession to the dark.

Evangelize's heart jumped. But she didn't move. Didn't even blink.

He sighed like it hurt to say it, then turned over, inched closer, slow, warm, sleepy, and lay down on her.

Right on top of her.

She could barely breathe, but it wasn't uncomfortable—it was just him, heavy and warm and Sammie. His head rested right on her chest, face turned slightly so his cheek touched the soft curve of her collarbone. One of his arms wrapped around her waist, holding tight. The other crossed up between them, his hand resting gently on her chest, just beside his face.

His legs tangled with hers, one of them lying completely across her thigh, the other slipping under her leg like he'd melted into her body.

Evangelize didn't dare move.

He loves me. He really said it. He think I ain't hear him, but I did. Every damn word.

Her lips curled into the smallest smile as her chest rose and fell under the sheets.

She didn't sleep much after that.

Annie & Smoke's House — Early Morning, Mississippi, 1998

Evangelize woke slowly, her body unwilling to return to the world just yet. The sunlight crept gently through the curtains, casting a soft golden haze across the room. Dust floated in the air, still and silent, like tiny suspended memories.

But the first thing she felt wasn't the light. It was him.

Warm. Heavy. Wrapped around her like he had always belonged there.

Her eyes fluttered open as her breath caught. Sammie was draped across her completely. His cheek was nestled against her chest, and one leg was thrown over hers while the other was tucked beneath. One arm wrapped around her waist, anchoring her in place, and his other hand rested right beside his face on her chest, calm, unmoving, like it was second nature.

Evangelize blinked at the ceiling, heart thudding against her ribs.

He was everywhere.

But it didn't feel wrong. It felt natural, comforting in a way that scared her a little.

She remembered the night before. The hush. The warmth of him beside her. And that whisper she hadn't been supposed to hear.

"I love you..."

She lay frozen then, not knowing what to do with it. Now, she lay just as still, his entire body pressed to hers like a lifeline.

Sammie stirred slightly, murmuring something low in his sleep. His hand twitched against her chest, and he nuzzled deeper into her, his breath warm where it brushed her collarbone.

Evangelize's breath hitched.

"...Sammie," she whispered, voice barely audible.

No response. Just a quiet groan.

"Sammie."

Still no movement. Only a deeper sigh, then his face pressed further into her chest, as though he were trying to disappear inside her. His grip tightened, and his mouth parted slightly in sleep.

She felt heat rise in her face. It was overwhelming—his weight, his scent, his closeness.

But it wasn't uncomfortable. It was the opposite.

He said he loved me.

The words circled in her head like a song with no chorus. And she didn't know what to do with it, so she did nothing.

She stayed still. Eyes closed.

And let herself feel it.

Later

Annie peeked into the room with practiced ease, a soft smirk tugging at her lips. She wore a worn robe and had a single roller falling loose from her hair. Smoke stood behind her, sipping coffee, his expression unreadable but amused.

They said nothing.

Sammie was sprawled over Evangelize like a blanket he refused to give up. She remained completely still, pretending to be asleep, but her flushed cheeks gave her away.

Annie whispered, "Mmmph."

Smoke raised his cup slightly and muttered, "Boy don't even know he in love."

Annie smiled, eyes twinkling.

"He do. Just don't know how to deal with it yet."

They didn't linger. Just slowly closed the door halfway and left them alone.

Upstairs, Sammie stirred slowly, groggy and warm. His body stretched slightly, instinctively tightening around what he assumed was a pillow—until he realized it was much softer. Warmer.

Then it hit him. The shape. The scent. The rise and fall beneath his cheek.

His eyes flew open.

Evangelize.

Panic settled in as he carefully pulled back, heart thudding loudly in his chest. His eyes swept over her sleeping face, her mouth parted slightly, curls spread across the pillow like a halo.

He held his breath. Did I say that out loud last night?

Guilt and fear waged war on his face as he slowly climbed off of her, stepping back like he'd done something irreversible. He rubbed the back of his neck, pacing toward the hallway without looking back.

 Downstairs

Evangelize descended the stairs later, hair in a lazy bun, wearing one of Sammie's oversized t-shirts and biker shorts. Her steps were slow, measured, like she was still thinking her way through everything.

Annie stood at the stove, flipping cinnamon toast sticks on the griddle and humming to the radio. The smell of sausage, grits, and eggs filled the kitchen.

"Mornin', baby," Annie said casually, sliding food onto a plate.

Evangelize nodded. "Mornin'."

She took her seat, picking up a fork but not eating. Her thoughts were too loud.

Annie glanced at her. "You good?"

Evangelize hesitated, then mumbled, "...He said it."

Annie raised a brow, flipping another slice. "Said what?"

"That he love me. Last night. Thought I was sleep."

Annie didn't pause, just nodded slowly as she reached for the cinnamon and sugar.

"And you ain't tell him you heard?"

Evangelize shook her head, eyes low.

"I ain't know what to say. Felt like if I said somethin'... it might disappear."

Annie turned to face her, then, wiping her hands on a towel.

"Love don't disappear when it's real. It just wait for you to catch up."

Evangelize stared at her, chest tight.

She didn't know what to say to that, so she didn't try. Instead, she picked up her juice and sipped, letting the silence hang.

Sammie walked in, hair damp, fresh from the shower. He was quiet, eyes flicking from Annie to Evangelize, settling on her for a beat longer than necessary.

Evangelize didn't look up right away. But when she did, she smiled softly behind her glass.

And he smiled back, slow and unsure.

He had no idea she'd heard him.

And she had no intention of telling him.

Not yet.

Not when it already felt like love was blooming in every unspoken moment between them.

[mattslilies]

First Time - C.S.

"i've never done this before..." or... the one where your hookup for the night turns out to be a virgin desperate to change that fact. warnings: top!reader, bottom!chris, (not necessarily dom/sub but mentions of the dynamic), handjob, oral (m receiving), a bit of edging, protected p in v (wrap before u tap people), more to be added as i write word count: 1.04k a/n: part two maybe???

you wouldn't say you had a corruption kink, necessarily, but watching chris' face contort in pleasure from experiencing the touch of a woman definitely made you hot.

you hadn't expected your one night stand to go quite like this, but you couldn't deny that even after hearing his mumbled confession that you were desperately attracted to him.

you'd had him pushed against the wall, him breaking a heated makeout to speak, whispering five words that would've changed the course of the entire night had he been anybody else.

"i've never done this before."

instead of turning you off, asking him to leave, and frustratedly calling your best friend to vent, you'd given him a once over, and decided to keep going.

it was the way he looked at you. pathetically. his eyes screamed in desperation even more than his hardened bulge did, which was saying a lot considering how it was pressed against your leg. a small whimper had escaped him when you'd shifted, and that had made you confident in your choice. you wanted to show him what it felt like to be ruined.

you were straddling him, keeping him firmly in place as you took your time overwhelming him. you'd continued the makeout, his lips still red and swollen from the minutes you'd spent making out with him.

he looked beautiful, you couldn't deny that.

you smiled down at him, your hand tightly wrapped around his dick, moving fast enough to make him squirm but slow enough to drag it out, wanting to see him fall apart for you.

there was something about knowing that you were the first one to ever get to see him like this, to get to memorize how his eyes scrunched shut as your hand twisted on the uptake, the way he let out a needy whimper as you pressed your thumb over his tip, the way his stomach clenched as he neared his orgasm.

you pulled off, not letting him cum so quickly, savoring in the high pitched whine that left his lips at the denial.

"relax, baby, i'm not done with you."

he nodded, his breathing a little shaky.

"i was really hoping not."

"don't worry."

you leaned down to kiss him again, one of your hands playing with his nipple, swallowing the gasp he let out against your lips.

"i want to take my time with you."

shifting your body, you kissed down his chest, your hands light against his skin, enough to make him shiver.

you made sure to look at him while taking him into your mouth, tongue dragging across his slit, watching his head toss back into the pillow behind him, a low moan leaving his lips. your hand took what you couldn't fit into your mouth, gagging as his hips bucked due to the extra stimulation. you pulled off, coughing a bit, as he furiously blushed.

"i'm so sorry, oh my god, i didn't mean-"

you shook your head, clearing your throat before moving back down.

"it's okay. it happens, don't worry."

you laid more of your weight on his body, successfully rendering him unable to move, as you returned to what you were doing. the whines and whimpers he let out only spurred you on, taking him in as deep as possible. pulling him as close to the edge as possible before pulling off a second time, you quieted his desperate pleas with a passionate kiss.

"i thought you might want to check off another first, hm? or would you rather i just make you cum with my mouth, baby?"

grabbing a condom from the box you kept, (most men like to conveniently "forget" one), you held it between your fingers, a questioning look on your face. the blush on his face was permanent now, his head quickly moving in a nod.

"words, baby."

"yes, please, i want to-"

you cut him off with another kiss.

"perfect."

you tore the small foil package open, opting to put it on him yourself, reveling in the gasp he let out at your touch. positioning yourself over top of him, gently guiding his dick into you before slowly sinking down, your jaw dropping open in pleasure.

"god, baby, you're huge. you've been holding out on this?"

he whimpered, his hands finding your hips as he desperately tried not to move too soon.

you let out a small moan as his shifting caused him to hit a little deeper, caressing that spot inside you that made you want to scream. keeping your composure, you started moving, finding your own quick pace, adoring the way he reacted to you.

his hands scrabbled at your hips, nails digging into your sides as his hips moved up to meet your every shift downwards. letting him find his pace, you encouraged him to continue, adjusting to meet where he was.

"that's it, baby, go ahead."

you spoke less as more moans tumbled from both of your lips, your body falling a bit forward as he managed to hit a perfect angle. grinding down on him to get extra stimulation on your clit, you could feel yourself quickly getting close, and the high pitched whimpers chris was letting out was enough to tell you he was nearing the edge again.

"doing so good for me, baby, i'm almost there-"

your words were cut off as he hit that perfect spot again, causing you to clench tightly around him. the broken sob that left his lips was heavenly to hear, and that was all it took for him.

you felt him lose rhythm, his body desperate for release, and the feeling of him pulsing inside you triggered your own orgasm, shuddering around him. riding it out as long as possible, for both of your pleasure, you eventually slowed down when the overstimulation became too much.

you ran a hand through his hair, your chest heaving with shaky breaths as you smiled at him.

"not bad for a first time, yeah?"

he was flushed from head to toe, his body still shaking from the intensity of his orgasm, wrecked face looking up at you.

"no, no, it was perfect."

maybe you did have a little bit of a corruption kink, after all, because the way he was staring up at you made you want to ruin him all over again.

divider by @/saradika-graphics!

taglist <3

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[giddydelphiresearcher]

Those glass shard thingies that you have to pull out the right way! Or "stuck draggables" as I call them. The implementation is messy, but it works. Fun fact: Because of how the half-hidden aspect of them works, I can't place them too close together or else one can reveal the hidden half of the other. Well, I CAN put them close, I just have to mess with the settings. Anyway, it works! Barely!

[prkhaven]

STICKY -p.js, s.jy-

The good looking neighbors never know when to shut up so instead they shut you up

pairing— boxer!jay x fem!reader x boxer!jake

genre: smut minors do not interact, boxer/boys next door au, p without plot

wc: 11.2k

warnings: profanity, kissing, sweat, mention of injuries, mention and scene of violence/fighting(boxing)

smut warnings: filthy, unprotected sex, p in v, threesome, dom!jay, soft dom!jake, dirty talk, creampie, fingering, squirting, oral (f+m rec.), deep throating, praising, slight degradation, cum eating, usage of nicknames (babe, sweetheart, nasty girl, sweet girl)

Groggily opening your eyes, the sleep that once engulfed you now faded away to the muffle loud ruckus. Your eyebrows knitted roughly before taking a look at the time before a deep sigh let your mouth.

Realizing and knowing your neighbors are not going to finish until the crack of dawn—like always. Your chair screeched as you roughly stepped out of your apartment, walking over to apartment 512.

Rubbing your sore neck from the sleeping position you were awakened from,“Do they ever know when to be quiet?” You mumbled, your hands dragging down your face as you tried to ignore the evident loud grunts and sound of rubber colliding drawing closer with each step

At first, you thought having two good looking neighbors would’ve been the best thing to ever happen in your life. Always trying to catch

a glimpse of them in the beginning until the loud ruckus began not even an hour after they moved in.

Trying to give them the benefit of the doubt that it’d just be every now and then while they get accustomed into the new apartment, but when it kept happening every single waking hour possible in the day, you began to grow agitated.

You don’t know how many times you’ve complained to them about the noise or how many times they promised to keep the noise down to a minimum as you promised to not file a noise complaint but they never filled their end of the bargain and you’re tired of it.

Banging roughly on their door, hoping they could hear it past the already loud noise in there and just to your luck, a few seconds later, there was no response.

As you continued to bang at the door, determined to not leave until they opened up, the door opened in a haste but it was too late for you to stop your hand. Suddenly mimicking the knocking motion on a hard chest, you yanked your hand away.

The male in front of you smirked, looking down at the pec you knocked on, “Don’t think this one is going to answer, why don’t you try the other one?” He rested his head against his leaning arm, the sweat trickling down his forehead down to his jaw, tracing it down during its way

Your eyebrows furrowed seeing the new face. This was not either of your neighbors.

“Who’s at the door, Hoon?” You heard a breathless accented voice from inside the apartment and able to immediately recognize it from the sheer amount of times you heard it

“Promise to keep quiet” and “Didn’t mean to be so loud babe”

All empty lies from him—Jake.

“Don’t know but she’s cute” The said Hoon chuckled as he stared at you, his eyes traveling up and down your figure drinking in your appearance

The small compliment managed to tickle your brain as you tried to stop the heating from fully reaching your cheeks. “What’s your name?” The male leaned his head to level with yours but before you could comprehend a plausible answer, he was pulled away and there you saw the familiar face

Sharp jawline, piercing eyes, ruffled hair with a freshly new undercut drenched in sweat. The bulging biceps from the clinging tank top where you could outline every dip and crevice on his sculpture body.

“Jay” You squeaked out causing a light smirk to form on his face as he ushered his friend Hoon away from the door but not before he shot a wink towards your way waving out his thumb and pinky close to his ear, mouthing the words call me

“Sorry about… Just ignore him” Jay panted out, using the back of his hand to wipe away the sweat hanging from his chin

You gulped trying to keep your eyes leveled with his and to not look at the clear muscle definition sticking out with his every movement.

“He’s the least of my concern right now” You mumbled, which in fact was true, you fiddled with the hem of your shirt before clearing your throat, “How many times do I have to tell you guys to keep it down?”

“Sorry about that sweetheart-”

“I’ve told you and Jake to stop calling me those names” You huffed out causing Jay to chuckle using his fingers to brush away the hair sticking to his skin showcasing his sweat filled face

Your eyes looked over and saw a scratch on his forehead that was covered before. “It was a rough match” Jay spoke noticing your interest on the cut, “But don't worry, I won” He pumped his pride filled chest out, a side smile appearing on his face

“I-I didn’t- I don’t care” You looked away to anywhere that wasn’t him already feeling the heat spreading throughout your body, “Just stop or keep it down tonight, please”

“Oh?” Jay raised an eyebrow, never hearing you beg before but quickly loving how you sound, “You really want us to shut up, don’t you?”

“So damn badly” You softly let out making Jay raise his hands up in defense as his wordless apology

“We’ll try but no promises” He smiled hoping it’d satisfy you a little but only received an annoyed eye roll as you walked back to your place

Jay’s hand gripped the door frame, his body leaning forward to watch your hips swaying as you walked away, “Bye” He called out earning a warning glare as you opened the door and slammed it

He smirked to himself, closing his own door. “You guys must be annoying to live next to” Hoon commented as he rested up a chair waiting for Jay to return

“Shut up Sunghoon” Jay sneered earning a howl from his friend hearing the harsher tone used towards him unlike the softer voice used with you

“Just stating the facts” Sunghoon raised his hands up in surrender, “But what’s her name?”

“She’s so my type”

“Fuck off Hoon” Jake striked a direct hit towards the punching bag, the rubber sound echoing out before sending another strike as he spoke, ”She wouldn’t want you”

“Oh I’m sorry, did she tell you that?” Sunghoon raised his eyebrows towards Jake, “Why won’t she be into me? Because I’m not some fucking boxer like you two?”

Jay walked over to his discarded wraps of a glove, wrapping the white fabric around his hand and knuckles with precision making sure not a single piece of skin showing, “Exactly” Jay threw the boxing curved towards Sunghoon who grunted when he revived them on his stomach

“Now get up, I need to practice”

✮⋆˙

Coming back from a tiring day, you were ready to fall asleep the moment you met your bed. You let out a heavy sigh of relief seeing your front door in view. Just as you took a step forward, the door next to yours opened wide.

“Hurry up Jay” Jake yelled holding the door opened but it whacked behind him once he caught sight of you

He hissed at the collision and rubbed the back of his head, you sucked your teeth into a hiss but being the boxer he is, he must be used to it.

“It doesn’t kill you to hold open the door” You heard Jay’s voice once the door opened again, “Fucking move-” Jay shoved the frozen Jake out of the way and there he saw you looking at them standing not far away from them

You looked between the two males, now noticing the different duffle bags they each held. Jake having a lighter washed out green with his name largely written in the front and Jay having a blacked out one with different designs all around, “We have a match today” You looked back up to Jake who’s hand that now hovered over his head noticing your lingering eyes

Your lack of response made them shift to stand side by side with each other, reminding you of the times, very few times why you were happy—almost glad that they were your neighbors in the first place.

Not only one but two good looking boys next door who just so happen to be boxers, with raging muscles that called for you to claw at was the wildest and grandest fantasy you could ever have which became your reality when your two lovely neighbors showed up at your doorstep introducing themselves.

Opting to stay quiet, you slowly nodded your head and took a step in the opposite direction of them but stopped when you heard one of them speak up, “Wanna wish us good luck babe?”

“This match…” Jake looked off to the side catching Jay’s glance towards him, “It might be the biggest one of our career” Jake said turning his gaze back onto you and you furrowed your eyebrows noticing a glint of sparkle in his eyes

Why want you to wish them luck? You had no grand power towards them. “Uh good luck?” Your supposed support ended in hesitance rather than a welcoming gesture

“Who do you think will win? Me or Jake?” Jay suddenly chipped in, wrapping his arm around his friend where it allowed you to focus on the bicep growing in size

Taking a discreet gulp, you shrugged your shoulders, “I don’t know, who’s the better boxer?” Your question meaning to be harmless but noticing the sudden shift in them made you unconsciously straighten your posture

Not entirely sure why you’re deciding to entertain them but it’s definitely more fun than collapsing onto your bed.

“Why don’t you find out sweetheart?” Jay’s voice suddenly dropped into a slurred tone making your insides twist as you crossed your legs trying to hide how easy it was to leave you flustered

You hated the nicknames they used to address you but it sure did leave a squish in between your legs.

Jay’s smirk grew in size once he saw your reaction, Jake on the other hand, grew in dissatisfaction to the lack of attention towards him. He pushed Jay’s arm off his shoulder and rolled his eyes. “No need to worry or stress about it too much, I’ll win since you know” Jake shrugged his shoulder while consciously flexing his arms his shirt lifting in the process showing the bottom outline of his toned stomach in a teasing manner “I’m the better boxer”

“I’ll even dedicate my win to you-”

“You sure sound confident you’ll win” You sucked in your teeth cutting him off, tilting your head to the side, “Isn’t it bad to be cocky?” Jay turned his head to the side to stifle his laugh as Jake’s shoulder dropped along with his face

“No- Not cocky, what- There’s nothing wrong with being confident of yourself ” Jake defended himself making sure to put the emphasis on confident in his sentence causing you and Jay to burst out in an unexpected coordinated laugh

“Alright, if you’re so confident. Then win it” Jay stopped his laughter instantly with a dropped jaw while Jake held back a prideful smile at the faith you have in him

“And what’s in it for us?” Jay grabbed Jake’s shoulder to pull his friend back enough for him to step up

Jake shot Jay a look—a warning one that screamed for him to shut up.

You jerked your head back, thinking it was a terrible joke but seeing the seriousness in his face made you stop from laughing, “You want something for me?”

“I thought pride and dignity would be enough knowing that you won”

Jay shook his head and Jake pulled at his friend’s shoulder muttering something incoherent to you but noticing the snapped look Jay gave Jake who glared at him made you raise an eyebrow.

Jay sighed before shaking his head, “Yeah whatever, pride and dignity stuff is what matters” He waved off, hiking up the duffle bag from his slipping hand

“I-I mean we could play genie…” You cringed at the choice of words but tried to look past it as a terrible humor attempt, “Winner gets one wish but you each grant me one wish in return no matter who wins”

The sudden vocal admit of being able to receive something from you—of their choice triggered something into their mind, already motioning the gears sooner than when they were originally supposed to move.

“Wha-Why do we both have to grant you one wish? Seems unfair to me” Jay narrowed his eyes to hide the excitement building up in him

“You owe me that much at least” You snapped back, “Do you know how much I put up with you two? I think it’s fair game”

“Well in boxing-” Jay started but Jake quickly covered his mouth and pulled him back showing a gleeful smile

“Don’t listen to him, you got yourself a deal” Jake extended his freehand out for you grasp while handling the frantic Jay in his arm wanting to push him away

Feeling the twist of your stomach warning of the lack of care in your words or the situation in general but a wave of excitement took over in a matter of seconds as you focused on greater matters.

What you need to buy for the upcoming birthday this week and the bulging muscles peeping out from underneath their shirts.

Grasping Jake’s soft yet harsh hand, you both shook on it. A way too wide smile on his face and a strained one on yours. Regrets, you’ve had them, you just wish this wouldn’t be one of them.

✮⋆˙

“Remember our deal Jay” Jake reminded his friend and roommate with a smirk as his red mouthpiece showed the hidden excitement slipping out

Jay waved him off, tapping the side of his blue headgear to get in the zone. Both were aware of what could be theirs due to the grand opportunity presented to them by your terms so losing wasn’t really up their alley.

“Hey” Jay turned around hearing the call with furrowed eyebrows

Jake smirked before clicking the strap off, allowing his headgear to slip off his shoulder and down to the ground. Jay’s eyes never left Jake’s once, his stoic face soon grew a smile noticing the insinuation, “No gear, just gloves and mouthpiece”

He didn’t respond to Jake’s words, only following in suit during the silence. He clicked off his headgear to land in his arm and threw it off to the side with a loud clunk as it rolled off. Jake’s smile grew wider before kicking his own piece out to follow Jay’s.

“May the best man win” Jay murmured as he walked over, pushing out his glove covered hands for Jake to clink

Once the tip of their gloves touched, they both went to their respective corners in the confided boxing arena with worn out ropes outlining it that’s long overdue for its replacement.

Jake tapped his bare stomach feeling the crevice even through his glove as he shook out his limbs to get rid of any tension that could alter his performance.

Jay twisted his neck side of side, stretching his upper body backwards enjoying the cracks of the built up pressure releasing. He let out a satisfied groan.

At the sound of the whistle, they marched over to the middle, face to face, a stern determined look that screamed louder than anything they could express through words.

At the weak ding 5 seconds later, Jake striked the first punch causing Jay to step back in haste to avoid it. ”Wasting no time” He muttered under his breath before jumping on his toes

His arms leveled with his head protecting it with the lack of extra protection from the discarded headgear. Jake was still smiling through the whole thing as he twisted his body to the side.

He trains with Jay day in and day out that they are practically one, he knows how his roommate attacks.

Jay took his infamous step forward, his arm coming from below but Jake’s eyes caught it before it could fully land. He blocked the attack with his arm, deflecting it away.

“C’mon Jongseong, you’ll have to be better than that” Jake spat through his mouthpiece and Jay rolled his eyes at the muffled comment

While Jake was silently laughing at his comment like it was hilarious, Jay took the opportunity to swing straight to Jake’s side making him wince upon impact. “Shit” He grunted under his breath from the unexpected attack having Jay chuckle showing a covered teeth smile

You’re the one that’ll have to be better than that was Jay’s famous internal monologue before tumbling back from the strike straight to his stomach knocking him off his feet landing Jake the lead up by 1 point.

The match now tied continued far longer than they wanted but it was to be expected. Grander schemes were at play and in their minds, both of them needed to win this match, the two s’ in their lives depended on this.

Social and the other s that they’ve been denying far too long forcing it to bubble all thoughts in their minds whenever you’re around.

Jay could feel the exhaustion catching up to his body, the faint metallic taste on his tongue when he licked his lips. Jake, having his sweat mixed with whatever else was spilling out of him dragged down his neck, a wild smirk on his face mimicking his crazed gaze.

Having the more stamina out of the two, he barely had a dent in his energy levels unlike his roommate. Jake sucked his bottom lip, victory never tasted so good before.

Right when Jake was going to swing his final punch to end the match and earn the last point needed for his sweet sweet win, he felt the harsh pressure straight to his head knocking him down to the ground without much thought.

His head was pounding against his skull as he landed on his knees and elbows, trying to push his body back up to continue to the match, barely able to hear the faint countdown through his ringing ear.

Jay tapped the floor repeatedly in pure excitement once time was called. He walked around the secluded arena hyping himself up from the great play.

Jake crumbled and turned his body around to face the poorly lit ceiling, “I win” Jay’s bruised face came into view, panting heavily as he extended an arm to help the sprawled Jake up who glared up at him, shoving the helping arm away in a grunt

“Fucking cheater” Jake grumbled, “You swung a foul hook”

“We never said anything about following match rules” Jay twisted his head to the side, shrugging his shoulders like he did no wrong—well technically he didn’t. “I just interpreted it as a free fall” Jake’s face contorted in dissatisfaction at his friend’s words

Jake continued to stare up at Jay, the dim lighting behind blinded him in the process. The cocky demeanor that Jay tried to push down now slipping through that Jake could feel it in himself and he lost.

Rolling his eyes, he sat up his sore body from the hard mattress, the side of his jaw and head tingling with a sensation he tried to ignore from the reality of his loss. “C’mon Jake no hard feelings right?”

“You remember our deal” Being reminded while he finally stood up, Jake tapped Jay’s chest before grabbing his neck to crash and rest their sweaty foreheads together in hopes of the simple gesture being the wordless reminder of the full length of their deal

“Don’t fucking ruin her before me” Jake sneered causing Jay to smile widely as he dragged out the mouthguard, moving his mouth around to the freedom letting out a dark laugh as he stared right back into Jake’s eyes

“Where’s the fun in that?”

✮⋆˙

Your mouth fell slack as Jay stood at your door all bruised up as he dropped the filled duffle bag to the ground with a loud thump, “I won” He breathlessly muttered but his tone secure and firm

“Did you really?” You quietly commented seeing the dried up scratches and faint bruises forming on his sculptured face with his frizzy drenched hair

Something sickening twisted inside of you as you stare not able to peel your eyes away from him. Your legs stuck tighter together, it must be a worrying pity that you were feeling but the excitement that began to rise when you opened the door to see him was undeniable.

Jay huffed snapping you out of it, “I want my wish”

Perplexed, you blinked your eyes harshly, “What?” You asked wanting to make sure you heard him right through the muffling of your ears growing by the second he’s in your presence like this

“You said let’s play genie. So let’s play genie”

Trying to keep your jaw from dropping to the floor now realizing how your words did in fact come to bite you. Your eyes traveled around his face looking past the injuries to see pure determination. You opened your mouth to say something but nothing came out.

Nerves began seeping into your brain as you tried to make sense of his blazing determination, “I-I wait- Wha-What?” You stuttered out when Jay’s head suddenly leveled with yours as he drew closer

His faint breath fanning over yours, tilting his head to the side staring off to the distance, sucking his teeth in the process, “For my wish…” Jay turned his gaze back to you, nose bumping into each in the process from the closeness, “Take care of me”

You gulped harshly at his conceding words. There felt to be an underlying sense from just what was being said. As you stared at his deep eyes, it was like he read every thought that was crossing your mind—searching for the one that yelled for him.

“I-I don’t have anything to treat you” You softly mumbled but your eyes never looked away making him let out a low chuckle while his unnoticed hovering hand landed on your lower back to squish the distance in between to nothing

“What type of genie are you?” Jay jokingly tooted his lips softly shaking his head, “That’s okay sweetheart, good thing for you I have everything you need”

And a few moments later, you found yourself sitting on Jay’s bed, in his room that is exactly what you imagined it to be. A waif of musky cologne, a bunch of weights scattered around, an inflatable punching bag and to your surprise two guitars—one electric disconnected from the amplifier and an acoustic in the corner.

You dropped your head into your hands from the blur of you stepping out of your place and following Jay back to his only to find yourself in his room, on the edge of his bed and the prominent flutter in your chest growing in anticipation.

You should’ve been more careful with your words.

“What are you doing here?” You remained quiet holding your head in your hand, trying to ignore the question from Jake who you quickly recognized by the accent slipping through, “Babe?”

“I told you not call me any na-” You started hearing his voice drawing in as you lifted your head up only then realizing just how close Jake was to you all of sudden

Jumping from the unexpected closeness, Jake quickly wrapped an arm around you to prevent you from toppling over to the floor. “You should be more careful. Can’t have all three of us hurt” He lightly chuckled

Taking into account his words, you stared at him wide eyed soaking in the bruised lip, a cut on his cheek with a growing redding and a cut that peeked from under the messy fluffy hair faintly covering his eyes that you itched to sweep away.

In a moment of silence, Jake's eyes poured deep into yours—not in search of anything just merely looking, he let out a low sigh, “Don’t think I ever told you how pretty you are” He hummed while his eyes zeroed on your lips for a second longer, making sure you noticed “You’re so pretty” His eyes looked up to catch yours staring right at him, never looking away

Your mouth slightly fell open to respond but instead a strained noise came out of your mouth, “I have a small wish” Jake murmured in a soft hallucinated tone, his lips so close to yours, “Will you give it to me?”

“Jake” You breathlessly let out and Jake crashed his hovering lips onto yours and almost instantaneously, you closed your eyes shut and fell into his plump lips smiling against yours

The puttering of your heart was so loud, you're worried Jake might’ve been able to hear it from how close he was. The pad of his thumb rubbed softly at your back while he tilted his head to the side to deepen the kiss as much as he could.

His freehand rose and cupped at your jaw to stabilize himself, his tongue swiped at your bottom lip, silently pleading for your permission. You cracked open your mouth as he entered like he’s been waiting for so long.

Your hands grabbed the thin fabric you would barely call a t-shirt clinging to his body for support. Pulling at your lip, you slightly jolt making him smile harder in the kiss. His hand traveled from your jaw to the side of your neck as he pulled away from the kiss.

You chased after his lips with closed eyes not wanting to feel the warmth disappear but your eyes shot wide open when you felt wet splotches placed at the side of your neck.

Jake messily planted feathering kisses all around your neck. Your hands gripped his hair, erupting groans from him as you pulled when he nibbled at your skin.

Your neck fell pliant in his hand, providing all access to him. Jake roughly stuck his body to yours, curving your body with his. “Jake” You breathlessly pant, your eyes fluttering shut

“That’s right, say my name” He grumbled against your skin while his fingers dug into your sides not wanting to let you go even for a second

“You fucking sleeze” You jumped at the sudden voice not far from you or Jake

Jay stood at his door, an amused smirk resting on his face. He pushed back his hair from his forehead with a dark chuckle causing your stomach to erupt in butterflies.

Jake let out a heavy sigh, dropping his head down but his hands never letting go. He craned his neck back to see his roommate staring right at you, ignoring his presence as a whole.

Jake shrugged his shoulders as Jay threw the first-aid kit on his neat desk scattering the stuff around in the process, “You wasted your time”

The door behind him closed with a click following after and you watched, realizing you were locked with the boys next door. “No you’re just impatient and couldn’t wait your turn” Jay sneered as he strutted towards you and Jake, the bubbling anger in him filled the room

You looked between the two and Jay took notice of your wavering eyes between them, his eyes trailed down and saw when you squished your legs tightly together under his gaze.

The feel of anger melted away as he stepped closer, placing his hands on his knees as he leveled at your head. He chuckled while his thumb reached out and softly stroked your cheek. “Or maybe you’re the impatient one” He grinned and you looked at him like an animal caught in headlights

His eyes bore into you, his side smirk only grew wider when you looked away from him. That was the answer he needed. He patted his roommate’s shoulder until he looked back at him with furrowed eyebrows.

Jay tilted his head, pointing towards the lonely chair in his room far from the bed. Jake aggressively shook his head, not wanting to give up what he already started but Jay gripped his shoulder tighter and repeated the motion. “Move. A deal is a deal”

The reminder trickled the built-up sweat down the back of your neck. A moment of silence for the lost session before Jake grumbled under his breath, his hands loosening on your waist before pushing Jay’s hand off with an annoyed huff.

You watched Jake hunched over to the chair, kicking the chair in the process before sitting down with a loud deep sigh, folding his arms—the biceps and triceps peeking from underneath one another as he stared in front of you two.

Jay’s hand cupped your chin and pulled your head away from Jake’s direction onto him. “Let him wallow in his self pity for now. Right now, let’s focus on us genie” The name shouldn’t have let you hot and bothered the way it did but when Jay’s calloused hands cupped your face lifting it high up for him, all thoughts went out the window

Your eyes stared up at him and Jay felt a familiar carnal bloom inside of him. The crease at your cheek reappeared as he toppled his head down to capture your lips with his.

The initial shock melted away as your eyes fluttered closed again and you were enclasped in the moment with Jay. His hand held your jaw delicately, different from how you originally anticipated.

His lips moved with yours and you felt everything around you turn into nothing, even the other male sitting eyes burning into your existence.

Jay’s hand traced down to your neck, holding it firmly in his hold. Your hands gripped at his nape, your fingers tugging at the bottom hairs making him groan as he softly pushed you on his bed.

Your mind was dizzy, you could feel the twitch of his mouth, your lips would graze his damaged one. “Sorry” You managed to say through the kiss but Jay only smiled as he pressed his lips harder against yours hoping that it’d mold together as one

Letting out a squeak from your throat, you felt Jay’s hand drag up your side. The roughness contrasted Jake’s eagerness, whose leg bounced up and down as he watched the scene before him.

Jay’s lip melted with yourself that you could nearly taste the metallic taste on your taste bud when his tongue slipped past.

Your hand tangled with his hair, his hand roughly grabbing at your side as he hovered over your body.

Sinking into his mattress, you melted further into cloud 9. The lack of oxygen started to infiltrate your foggy brain, worsening it by the second, your mind screamed for a second of air while your body interpreted the kiss as your only need of oxygen.

Hearing your heavy shallow breaths Jay pulled away from the kiss and with hooded eyes, he took a glimpse towards you which stunned him. Your swollen lips begging for more, your closed eyes and hanging open mouth as you finally took in deep breaths to make up for the lack of it.

Before him was a scene he wanted to burn in his mind forever.

Feeling Jay pull away from you, you lazily opened your eyes to see him looking at you with a certain glint in his eyes making your insides churn.

Jay dipped his head down to the crevice of your neck and began planting soft kisses just like how Jake had done. You lifted your body off the bedding feeling his mouth messily leaving wet splotches on your neck. Your chest rumbled out with a satisfied held back moan.

“Let me- No Let Jakey over there hear how good I’m making you feel” The mention of the male made you turn to the side to see Jake with folded arms glaring at the two of you

You made eye contact with his strong one’s and saw the faintest smirk ghost his face as he slightly jerked his lips forward pointing to where you lay sprawled with Jay hovering over you—ushering you to pay attention to what’s in front of you.

“You’re shivering sweetheart” Jay pointed out feeling the goosebumps forming on your skin, he smirked before taking a nip at your neck causing your attention to come back to him

Jay’s kisses furthered down your neck until he reached the starting point of your shirt’s neckline. His eyes looked to yours, silenting asking for permission—waiting for the sign. You stared right at him as you softly nodded your head.

The smile he gave was different from the other’s he has given you, this being more genuine and softening. His hands grabbed the hem of your shirt, feeling the material against his touch before carefully hiking it up exposing your skin.

It felt like it was in slow motion. Jay’s eyes never trained off of yours, as you shivered once the cold air hit your skin and you could feel the warmth radiating off his hands grazing your skin. “I got you” He softly whispered just enough for you to hear noticing your shuddered

Your arms lifted up as Jay peeled the fabric off before throwing it behind him to be discarded.

Jake watched the shirt thrown his way and the sneak of a glance Jay took towards him, a prideful expression—gesture. His jaw clenched as he quickly unfolded his arms and the chair he was sitting in screeched from under him.

“Uh oh I think someone is growing impatient” Jay voice filled with a teasing tone as he saw how Jake walked over in strides

You lifted your head to see Jake standing next to the bed, “Can I help you?” Jay raised an eyebrow causing Jake to scowl before it instantly melting when he looked at you

He cleared his throat before tapping at Jay’s shoulder, “Time’s up” He told trying to make his tone firmer than usually which was followed by a stifled laugh from Jay who dropped his head for a moment at his roommates sternness

“Let’s see…” Jay caught your flickering eyes with a smile tilting his head just a little, “What do you think? Should we let him join us?”

You gulped down the lump in your throat. Through the fog of your mind, you registered your two good looking neighbors, the beat up boxer’s before you—both looking at you with a look that you couldn’t decipher but could feel in your bones.

You opened your mouth only to close it not trusting yourself to speak coherent sentences that wouldn’t end up with you tangled in the bed with the two of them but deep down it was what you wanted.

Only able to let out out a breathlessly tone as you roughly nodded your head , “Yes please”

Jake’s smile grew wildly as he hastily removed his shirt in one swift motion. Jay rolled his eyes at his friend before being shoved to the side by Jake who replaced his position. “What the-” You heard Jay off to the side but couldn’t focus on what else he said as your focus fell back onto Jake

You shifted in your spot at the sudden switch but Jake’s comforting smile eased your nerves. Hovering above you, his arm with his bulging bicep supporting him while his other hand stroked against your cheek.

Your eyes took in his face before trailing down body. The biceps are prominent with no distraction covering it, the cut of his triceps trailing down, his collar bone sticking out that your hand itches to grab at—more preferably gnaw at to keep you quiet and the outlining of his toned stomach that you’ve only seen through teasing manners in all its glory.

As you trailed further down, you see the raging bulge being restrained in his sweats. Your jaw nearly dropped seeing the print against the material but forcibly keeping your mouth closed was easier said than done.

Your eyes looking back up to see Jake’s hungry filled ones, a smile that melted your heart almost instantaneously. “You’re the prettiest girl ever” He softly murmured before going to capture your lips in a chaste kiss

Receiving it just as easily as it was given to you, your hands tangled into his fluffy hair that you’ve waited so long to rake through. Yet, through the muffle of your ears, you were able to pick up off the shuffling beside you.

Jake sucked at your bottom lip, tugging at the flesh with a grin before pulling away with a heavy breath. He rested his forehead against yours before making his way down your cheek then to your jaw, “Picking up where I left off” He blabbed against your neck as he softly sucked on the skin

His hand softly pushed your head to the side as his mouth traveled all over your neck. Having your neck craned, you’re faced with Jay smirking as he watches you and Jake.

His shirt and sweats were long discarded somewhere as he adjusted himself on the bed in a sitting position, his arm extending from behind to hold himself up. He turned his head to the side in a tilt, a smirk never leaving his face.

Your mouth opened, ripping out a soft moan when you felt the cold air hit your now bare chest which was then warmed by a wet sensation wrapping around the hardening bud.

You gasped loudly as your hands immediately grasped Jake’s hair, throwing your head back further into the sheets.

A sound fell from Jake the moment he came into contact with your breast, his tongue gliding over the hardening bud as his other hand fondled with the other.

Your mind became filled with his touch and mouth on you, your back arched as you squealed when he tugged at it between his teeth.

He smirked when he heard you, “J-Jake” You softly moaned, tugging at his hair harder earning a faint strained noise to rupture out of him, your heart hammered against your chest that you were sure he could hear and feel it

“Keep saying my name out of that pretty mouth of yours” Jake hummed as he never once let the slightest attention slip through his finger. He pulled at your hardened nipple in a teasing manner, one harsher than the last before running his tongue over the burning sensation

You melted further into the mattress as everything around you disappeared as you felt like you were lifted into a cloud. “Jakey”You called out the nickname you heard Jay call him and he harshly tugged at your nipple making your squeal

He usually brushed off the nickname as nothing hearing it from others yet, hearing it from you only fueled his farther down a rabbit hole he could never escape from—which he would never want in the first place.

His mouth popped your saliva covered bud out of his mouth only to move down the middle in between the crevice before sinking further down.

Your pants were heavy as he inches closer to the growing wetness in between your legs. Unconsciously squishing your legs together before he could reach in between, his eyes flickered up pleading for permission while his fingers stopped toying with your waistband. “Getting shy on me now?” His tone dipped deeper into a hum making your body shiver

With the lack of response, his mouth tugged to the side and peeled his hands away as he began pulling away. The warmth that hovered over your bottom half was disappearing only to feel the burn inside of you that you quickly wrapped your legs around his shoulder causing a yelp to fall as you stopped him, roughly shaking your head.

His hands gripped at your hips to stabilize himself as your legs hooked around him. The giggle he let out surrounded the room and your ears as you felt his head level with your leaking entrance with a nod.

His fingers glided up the side of your leg, able to feel the warmth of his hand through your pants before he tugged at the waistband again, “Going to have to let me go for a second babe” He teased running his hand up and down your legs causing warmth to rise to your cheeks

“Sorry” You murmured, loosening your legs around him to feel the tips of his finger tug at your pants before slowly pulling them down

Your breath hitched in your throat as you watched him, the tenderness and precision he had for simply peering the clothing off of you was warming.

Once it passed your ankles, Jake threw it off and immediately returned to his place right in between your thighs. Adjusting your legs over his shoulder easily exposing the damp undergarment sticking to your entrance. “So pretty” He blabbed, “Wet already”

Jake hummed as his eyes scanned over the wet patch on your panties, “Is this because of me?” He tilted his head to the side, having his shaky hand moved from your hips to swipe across the damp fabric making you squeal at the contact

Your head felt dizzy while your lower body moved with his finger, soaking in the feel, “Well?” He ripped his finger away once you weren’t responding

“Y-yes” You let out a broken cry, “It’s because of you”

Jake smirked to himself in pride, taking an obvious glance towards Jay who only let out a silent scoff at the ego growing in Jake. “Good” He hummed

He stuck out his tongue and took a long stride against your covered core, mixing his saliva with your soaked panties as his fingers teasing your folds just over the material. You jumped from the sudden touches as your hand flung to his hair, biting your lips as you held back the noise daring to fall

While being ignored long enough after being such a good friend, roommate and neighbor, Jay can no longer deny his own problem growing in size hearing your beautiful sounds.

Your eyes screwed shut, whines falling out as you let yourself feel Jake’s tongue protrude into your covered hole in a teasing manner to him sucking harshly on the bundle of nerves when his finger was at the brink of your entrance ready to slip in.

But, at the sudden lifting of your head, your eyes shot wide open to Jay placing your upper body to rest up against his while his arms came up from behind straddling over your bare skin.

The contact of flesh pressed up against your back with the sensation of Jake’s finger tugging your panties to the side to finally see your smeared covered pussy was consuming you whole.

Jay’s hand reached higher until finally landing on your chest, feeling it with his own hand after having to watch Jake do it first. Your body arched off his but he quickly dragged you back with a harsh pull. “Stay with me” He whispered into your ear leaving a shiver to run up your spine

One hand remained fondling with your breast fondling while the other traced up your neck, lifting your fallen head up, craning it to allow him to place his mouth messily on top of yours.

You hummed in satisfaction feeling how he kissed you, his hand holding the juncture between your neck and jaw firmly as he sucked on your bottom lip, the familiar taste of metallic hitting your tongue.

Yet, your mouth dropped in the kiss letting out a quiet gasp as you felt the intrusion of two fingers entering your hole. “Shit” Jake breathlessly pants watching how his two fingers disappeared inside of you

You whipped your head towards the male as he began pumping his fingers in a shallow thrust. Your hand landed to the side, gripping the sheets into a fist only for it to be replaced by Jay intertwining your hands.

With an agape mouth, the moans you’ve been trying to hold back slowly began to spill, feeling how Jake’s finger pushed deeper inside—curling up to feel your gummy walls surrounding him.

“He makes you feel good?” Jay lulled in your ear which you weakly nodded your head at, “Tell him how good he’s making you feel”

Your bottom lip shivered, “S-So good” You managed to get out feeling how he slipped until he was knuckles deep inside of you, “Jake” You called out his name as you threw your head back onto Jay’s shoulder

“So good Jake- Please”

Jake was too fascinated watching his fingers disappear that his name fell deaf on his ears. He watched how his dry fingers were now drenched in your arousal and he couldn’t miss out on anymore. He dipped his head close as he placed the first kiss against your entrance—elighting a soft moan from you.

Jake groaned the moment he tasted you on his taste buds. He pressed his face closer to you, his tongue gliding in between your folds “The absolute sweetest” He mumbled pulling at the bundle of nerves screaming for attention, his finger never faltering in pace

He sucked any essence that was slipping through his fingers, his tongue lathering itself all over you. His body felt so heavy and his mind too light, he lost himself.

Jay smirked, feeling you squirm against his chest, holding his hand tightly with the feel of his hands running over your breasts, softly playing with them as he ever so often twists your nipple, timing it when Jake tugs at your clit, to earn a louder squeak from you.

Your senses were heightened as they focused on their respective actions—perfectly in sync and coordinated with each other without having uttered a single word.

Jay gripped on your mound as he sloppily left kisses at the side of your face whilst Jake could feel you clenching around his finger when he intentionally shoved deeper.

The hot build up in your stomach was daring to snap, the rubbing mouth and hands on your body left your mind reeling.

“Look at what you’re doing to Jake” The mention of the man down below, you looked through heavy eyelids to see Jake’s tongue flickering as he matched his pace with his finger but you could see him softly rutting his hips against the mattress

At the sight, you could feel the fluttering shut of your hole around his fingers as the snap in your stomach erupted a loud moan, while your body shook from the ecstasy that washed over you, ”Shit” Jake breathlessly muttered seeing how along with you coming, there was another soaking stream coming out of you

Jake pulled out his finger quickly before rubbing at your folds roughly, wanting to earn more of your release out of you. You gasp at the stimulation as your body arches and slightly trashes but Jay hooked his arms at your waist keeping you in place.

Your pants were strained and heavy, “J-Ja… Please” You cried out until Jake finally pulled his hand away without dipping one finger into your hole

Gasping loudly, soft whimpers falling from your mouth, allowing your body to rest against Jay. “Now that was…” Jay softly said, pulling his arms away from your heaving body

“Fucking hot” Jake finished his sentence as he admired his soaked covered hand

You turned your head away in embarrassment but Jay quickly coddled you, “Hey, hey, don’t” Placing soft kisses against your head, your tensed body soon relaxed melting into the praise, “That was amazing. You did amazing”

You looked over to Jake who looked from his hand over to you. Your glistening eyes, your mouth hanging slightly open with your chest on full display rising with each shallow breath.

He dipped his hand flat onto the mattress, inching his head closer to your to catch your lips in a chaste chase. Cringing at the taste at first and the smearing of your arousal at the lower half of his face landing on yours. He held your chin, sucking at the lower bottom of your lip in need as you could feel Jay’s hand traveling down your body.

Feeling like you were on the fire, your blood ran cold when you felt the soft fingers inching closer until it reached the warming bundle of nerves and slid the tip of a single finger down the center of your drenched hole. You moaned against Jake’s mouth who gleamed hearing your noises reappearing.

Immediately you trashed when you felt Jay’s finger teasing your entrance, “Sensitive?” His seductive tone wished into your ear, infiltrating your mind with ease

A deep hum rumbled out of his chest as he slipped just the tip of his finger back in. You softly bit at Jake’s bottom lip letting a hiss fall from him.

But as Jay’s finger slipped further in, he messily planted kisses at your head and Jake’s mouth moved from your mouth to the side of your jaw down to your.

Jay ripped his hand away and Jake detached his mouth from your skin, a silent coordinated moment, leaving your body all hot and bothered. Your eyes wearily darted between them.

Jake and Jay noticed your confused gaze as they snuck a look to each other—Both seeing the familiar craze that only shows when they’re in the rink appear in each other now. “I still need to be taken care of” Jay’s voice dropped in tone and you churned your head back catching a glimpse of his gaze turning your insides to mush

“Will you take care of me? Sweetheart” His tone slurred soaking into you

You licked your lips before folding them and letting them go in a shaky breath, “Yeah” Your voice barely above a whisper as you softly nodded

“Atta’ girl” Jay chuckled softly tapping at your side

He shifted positions until you were sprawled back on his bed, looking up to the very neighbors you couldn’t stand their inability to stay quiet but at this moment, they didn’t seem that bad—not in the slightest.

Your heartbeat patterned against your chest harshly, anticipation growing by the second when suddenly a hand landed at your side, tapping at it, “Flip over” Jake’s voice rang through the room and not wanting to test either of the patience unable to know if it would be the end just like that

You gulped down the lump before planting your body up on your elbows, turning around but just when you were going to lay your front to the mattress, a hand stopped you, ”On all fours for us” You heard Jay’s voice from behind and a chill ran up your spine from the lack of sight of either of them

An inevitable shudder of your breath left you as you landed on your hands and knees, a burn resting upon your cheeks at the more revealing position.

Your neighbors remained silent, hearing each breath you took alerting them of the nerves growing in you. Taking a look at each other, unspeakable words understood, Jay switched positions with Jake.

Your eyes looked from the bed below you to see Jake’s warming smiling greeting you, “Hi” He giggled

Noticing how the tension in your body silently lifted, you felt roaming hands threading from your back to your hips until you felt a cup at your core making you gasp.

Shooting a look behind your shoulder harshly tugging at your mouth. Jay pulled at your cheek, baring the sight before him greater to see the soaked covered crevice glistening before his eyes.

He licked his lips in anticipation, tasting the hint of whatever was on it mixing together on his tongue.

Your head was turned back staring at Jake’s toned stomach, the lines dipping with each drop and your eyes fell further down to the bulge now in front of you.

You gulped feeling your hole subconsciously fluttering around nothing, having Jay smirk noticing your pulsating entrance.

Your eyes trained at Jake’s hardened cock making his heart hammer out of his chest that he swore you could hear it. Taking a look behind you to his roommate noticing his actions, he quickly shifted his eyes back onto you, creasing your head.

Right when you were going to look up to Jake, you suddenly felt the tease of your folds being pushed apart by a wet sensation. The obscene sound of the small taps against your dripping pussy made you shiver as Jay’s tip rubbed over your smeared entrance, mixing the already wet arousal everywhere.

“Jay” You whined at his tease and he sent a light slap onto your side

“What’s wrong? Still being impatient?” He hummed, his hand soothing the tingling sensation before slapping the same spot again, “What do you want sweetheart?”

Knowing what Jay was searching for, you harshly tugged at your mouth, “P-please…” Your voice too low to hear anything

“What was that?”

“Please fuck me”

Unable to see him, you were going to peer over your shoulder when the stretch at your entrance caught you off guard. You loudly gasped as you gripped at the sheets, your knuckles turning white from your hold while your body almost fell foward but was stopped by Jake.

Jay slowly eased himself into you, holding himself back from filling you up in one thrust, a hiss leaving his mouth feeling how you clenched around him. “Fuck” He stroked your hips harshly, “So good- Taking me so fucking good” His voice cracked each inch he pulled your walls apart, sinking and relishing in the tight feel around him

“J-Jay” Your voice squeaked as the stretched that quickly began to swift into a pleasurable feel, your mind too preoccupied when you suddenly felt a poke to your cheek

Your gaze shifted to see the raging tip, you looked up to see Jake sneering a cheesy smile towards you, no words were exchanged and yet, you opened your mouth wide as you looked up at him.

His expression twitched as the smile grew, “Who knew” Jake groaned more so for him rather than for you under his breath before grazing his leaking tip on your unblemished lips

Stroking the side of your face, making all around fall to silence. Maintaining eye contact with you, Jake could feel the throbbing at hand. Passing the warmth of your lips, you engulfed the tip in, welcoming the unwavering taste on your tongue.

Jake groaned, feeling the warmth around his cock lighting his whole body in fire.

At a harsh thrust jolting your body forward, you unintentionally gagged around Jake at the sudden harsh push deep inside of you.

Trying to even out your breathing in any way you can, you suddenly felt the drag of Jay’s cock slipping out of you in a slow manner before easing himself back in where he left.

Still not used to the stretched, you whined making the vibration send straight through Jake’s fuzzy mind and down the rushing blood to his twitching self resting heavy in your mouth.

Jay’s thrust started off slow and rhyminc, low groans leaving as he tried to keep himself rational to allow you to somewhat get adjusted to his size.

Your full mouth moved when Jay suddenly sent a harsh thrust forward as his rationality began to fade away, landing you further down Jake’s resting heft, who let out a stuffed grunt at the movements, having to remind himself to not release in your mouth so quickly.

Tears brimmed at your eyes, Jake’s roughed hands, the calloused feel of them rubbed against your cheek, wiping the fallen tears away. “Doin’ so good for us babe… You can do it” His words of encouragement raised your mind higher into the cloud of pleasure

You meekly nodded your head causing the movement to rupture around Jake having him let out a breathless moan when your tongue strung over, you mouth tightly wrapped around, sucking at what you can without choking.

Yet, you froze closing your eyes tightly shut when you felt the drag of emptiness before being filled again, “S-Shit” You managed to hear Jay through your ringing ears

Your shaky freehand managed to grasp the base that wasn’t in your mouth and stroke Jake focusing on your tongue swirling around tasting the faint precum that’s been leaking out.

Jay’s hand rested at your hips, the shallow thrust growing deeper after each one, his once even breathing shifted into a heavier one as he focused on the way you welcomed him in and allowed him to slip out with ease.

“Such a fucking sweetheart, taking me so good” He hissed, “Bet you were waiting for this” His finger pinched at your side making you muffle out a yelp

“C’mon tell us you’ve been waiting for this” Jay’s resting hand semt a slap towards your hips rippling out the sound followed by your huffed whine

“Y-yes” You weakly wailed trying to speak as clear as possible for them to hear

“Look at you trying to talk with your mouth full” Jay sneered seeing how you attempted to take more of Jake in your mouth

Jake’s hand rested at the back of your head helping you meet his weak thrust to push you further down his length. Your eyes tracked upwards to see Jake’s thrown head to the side, hooded eyes staring right at you.

He let out a smile watching how you looked with your lips wrapped around him. He stroked your head softly, “Pretty girl next door couldn’t wait to get fucked by us, isn’t that right babe?” He raised an eyebrow causing you whine

Jay’s pace soon grew faster, his hips slamming against you as his fingers dig at your sides for support that the form of idents could be felt. With how you clenched around his cock, taking more than the last time made his heart soar.

“Such a nasty girl but, you’re our nasty girl, aren’t ya?” Jay darkly chuckled sending a harsh thrust that made you swallow Jake whole

The moment that he hit the back of your, he groaned loudly, his fingers wrinkling as he could feel your throat contracting around the new feel of him deeper. “Fuck” Jake loudly grunted followed by your gagging sounds

The feel of Jay’s tip everything inside of you was a pleasurable feel you never felt before to feeling Jake hitting the back of your throat, your senses heightened as your mind faded into a fog of just your two neighbors.

“J-Ja-“ Your muffled voice was barely audible causing each of them to let out a laugh, the jolts of your body kept moving forward from Jay’s cock hitting your insides, molding you just for him

Jake softly drew himself back from your mouth, a wash of breath air filling your lungs making you suck in the deep breath before he bucked his hips back in and out, filling your mouth again of him, “You’re taking him so good, look at you”

You clamped around Jay’slength, “Fuck, you like getting praised?” He commented in a deep groan, “Like knowing you’re being such a good girl for us?”

You weakly nodded your head, unable to respond but wanting to show some type of response and that fueled Jay’s heart—seeing your efforts to get something out for him. He rubbed his hand over your lower back and hips, his touch leaving fire trails on your skin the moment of contact.

Spit accumulated at the side of your mouth, dripping down in its wake down your chin as Jake softly slammed his hips, his cock going back down your throat as your hands grabbed whatever it could to keep you hoisted up.

Your gargle sounds filled the room with the faint sounds of Jay meeting you and the inevitable moans falling from your stuffed mouth.

Jay snapped his hips faster, his eyes trained on how all of him disappeared inside of you perfectly as Jake slowly chased after your mouth when he pulled away, only for you to grasp on him and lick his hard on from the base all the way to the top—sucking whatever he was giving you.

You could feel how Jay’s thrust was growing frantic and irregular, the muffled moans leaving your mouth only grew louder the harder he slammed his hips against yours which only fueled their growing desire further.

“Come all over him” Jake whispered, encouraging you and somehow you managed to pick it up through the noises bouncing off the wall and your mind was set

Jake’s cock was throbbing in your throat, the closing and opening of each sound you released mixed with a gagging noise made him draw closer to tie daring to snap in his stomach.

He rutted his hips faster feeling the familiar coil build up in his stomach. “You’ll take it right? What I give you, right babe?” Jake’s voice squeaked higher as his stomach began to tighten

Jay’s hand thread over your back to your waist, wrapping his arm around as he slammed his hips harder against yours, his fingers pressed over your stomach and pushed deep into it, “Nasty girl is going to take what we give her” He grumbled it as a statement rather than a question and you knew that you wouldn't have to try—you would

Jake’s groans turned into small pants as he stilled his hips and let out a gruntled whine as the warm liquid filled your mouth and you jerked, feeling how it slicked past your throat. “So good-So fucking good”

Yet, Jay continued to ram his hips causing your mouth to vibrate around Jake having him hiss at the simulation still dragging out through his high, “H-Hurry up Jay” Jake sneered as he tried to pull away from your mouth, the shaking of his body worsening if he stays any longer

Yet, he stopped when you weakly wrapped your hand around his shaft that he could only pull away halfway. You pumped what wasn’t in your mouth, your tongue licking his tip clean seeking in the air that you could before taking a big gulp to get rid of the remnants of Jake’s cum in your mouth.

Your mouth fell open as the obscene sounds lolled off your tongue with Jay’s cock filling your insides with each trust and through it all, Jake caught a glimpse of the inside of your cleaned mouth—with the exception of a few white strings lingering behind.

“F-Fuck” His voice cracked when you sucked his tip cleaned regardless of his softening cock at hand, “P-please” Jake pleaded when you took him back in your slacked mouths

Muffled through the sounds, Jay’s harsh thrust after another soon came to a stop. “S-Sweet girl, such a good damn girl” One harsh thrust sent before another as he bottomed himself forcing himself as deep as humanly possible as he marked up your once velvet walls full of him in a loud groan—bliss taking over.

You moaned at the sudden warm fillment flowing in your inside as you let go of Jake with a loud pop, landing face first—your head on the mattress while your body shivered from Jay filling you up.

Your hands weakly crumbled the sheets beneath you as pitiful whines rumbled out of your chest.

Jay remained inside of you, stuffing you full of him as his calloused bruised hands roaming all around your back, “Did so good. So fucking proud of you-Took the both of us too damn good” His voice was warm that you could feel it in your body but wasn’t able to properly comprehend in your mind

“Sweetheart?” He softly called out and you turned your head to the to side catching a glimpse of the dismantled Jay behind you

The few hairs stuck to his forehead, the bruised face glistening in sweat as it trickled down his neck and past his collarbone to stop at his built chest.

You fluttered around Jay making his eyes whip to where he and you were still attached. He watched the few remnants of his release inside of you managed to escape where it could, his heart raced at the scene.

The feel of drag from his cock out of you made you whine at the sudden emptiness and stretch leaving you as Jay watched at how your hole flattered around nothing before the few spurts of his cum leaked out, his eyes widened realizing that it couldn’t stop at just that—after just one mere round.

Jake shushed your heaving self, his hand carefully stroked your head. Turning your head, you see Jake’s warm smile, his red cut cheek still catching your gaze and his side bruised lip.

Your eyes flickered closed as he dipped down capturing your mouth with his and his face slightly scrunched at the faint taste of him on your lips.

You melted in the plush of his lips meeting yours but you gasped when you felt fingers glide across your messy folds, gathering whatever was smeared around it and pushing it back inside of your entrance—where it’s meant to be, “Sticky” Jay whispered in a daze like haze as he watched his fingers disappear inside of you

Jake gave one longer peck as he softly gripped your face, a hum in his chest erupting out before he pulled away. “Can you go one more?” He asked past his swollen lips

Your heart was hammering out of your chest, your body was trying to catch up from the previous orgasms.

And yet, you nodded your head causing a bloom over his chest before he excitedly captured your lips in a quick peck. “So good for me-For us. Promise it’ll feel good. Just let us take care of you” Jake mumbled before giving a smile and letting go of your face to shoot a harsh glare towards Jay—different from how he looked at you

His roommate didn’t flinch for a second, already having been looking at him with a smirk resting on his face. Jay curled his fingers inside of you causing you to hiss loudly because even if he had his time—he’d enjoy it if you were still acknowledging him.

“You heard him sweetheart, let us take care of you” Jay planted a wet kiss on your bare back, his eyes falling into a hooded look that made your tired insides twist

Your body was turned over, your back meeting the soft mattress and a satisfied hum slipped past your lips at the stern support lifting your body.

Through your half-lidded eyes, you looked up to see Jay and Jake looking at you, a glistening look in each of their eyes that screamed something ineligible to you—fueled by a desire to devour you whole.

“Just focus on us. No need to think of anything else in that pretty head of yours”

✮⋆˙

Your face scrunched hearing the loud banging rupturing in the distance. Shifting in the sheets, you buried your head deeper into the warmth that engulfed you, believing if you ignored it long enough then it'll seize to exist.

When your eyes and mind began to fade back into slumber, the warmth at your side disappeared with the exception of a feathering touch ghosting your head with an inaudible whisper before disappearing.

Dazedly opening your eyes adjusting to the sunlight peeking inside, you looked next to you, noticing the once occupied space now empty with a dip in the mattress of who once laid there.

Your sore body is now catching up to your mind when you try to move with the addition of a weight holding you down and forcing you closer to the body behind you as the head nuzzles deeply into your back, holding you close.

You looked down to see the bruised red skin resting at the knuckles, the faint scratches on them wrapped around your waist.

However, at the sound of the door carefully opening, you lifted your head up to Jake’s loose clothing hanging onto his body, his disheveled messy hair, and his heavy eyes shining in the sunlight.

“Who was at the door?” Your voice low and strained as you rubbed your eyes, trying to slip out of Jay’s bear like hug at your waist who was yet to wake up

Jake smirked, closing the bedroom door behind him just to lean up against it with a sigh before pushing himself off, his steps slow and nearing until his head was leveled with yours.

Your breath hitched in your throat as he placed his finger over his tugging upwards lips.

The hands wrapped at your waist threaded higher nearing your chest in a slower manner, Jay rested his head onto your shoulder. Jake sank to his knees, his hands moving down to your knees before having pry them open.

“Neighbor. Told us to keep the noise down next time”

——

a special dedication and tag to @hearts4hee, for you hon<3

[luv-lock]

Jason Todd is a smoker .⠀.⠀.⠀.⠀⠀💭

Jason who keeps a pack of cigarettes in the inside pocket of his jacket, right next to a picture of you he swiped from your desk. Not that you’d ever know, because he’s carefully folded it so only he can see your smile.

Jason who refuses to share his lighter with anyone else. It’s not just because it’s his—it’s because your initials are carved into the side, along with a heart he scratched there himself. He says it’s “dumb” and “just a thing he did while bored,” but you know he’d gut anyone who tried to touch it.

Jason who keeps a special pack of cigarettes in his jacket pocket, only for you to see. Each one has a faint, lingering trace of your perfume. He doesn’t even smoke them half the time; he just holds them between his fingers and breathes them in when he misses you too much.

Jason who pulls out a cigarette and pauses, twirling it between his fingers, staring at it with a crooked grin before muttering, “Doll wouldn’t like me smoking this.” He lights it anyway, because he knows you’ll scold him later, and he loves the way your hands curl into fists when you pretend to be mad.

Jason who has a habit of resting the cigarette between his lips while he leans against his bike, waiting for you to finish work, but doesn’t light it until you’re there to steal it from his mouth for yourself. He doesn’t even complain when you do; he just watches, smirking as your lipstick stains the filter. “You’re ruining my tough guy image, doll,” he’ll tease, but his grin says he loves it.

Jason who asks you to hand him a cigarette, just so he can watch your fingers curl around the box. He doesn’t even need one half the time. “C’mon, princess, humor me,” he drawls, leaning back like the cocky bastard he is.

Jason who presses the cigarette to his lips, then stops halfway. “Wait—kiss me first,” he says. “You know it doesn’t taste right if I don’t get one from you.”

Jason who only smokes half a cigarette before flicking it away, mumbling something about how it’s not worth finishing if it doesn’t taste like you.

Jason who hoards all the lipstick stains left behind on the filters, collecting them in a small tin in his room like a damn psychopath. When you find it, he just shrugs. “Don’t judge me. It’s art.”

Jason who lights up only after brushing his lips over yours first, muttering, “You’re the only good thing I wanna taste tonight.”

Jason who keeps your perfume on the nightstand and spritzes it on the collar of his jacket before stepping outside for a smoke. He breathes it in between drags, imagining you’re standing there, rolling your eyes at his bad habits but still staying close.

Jason who buys the most obnoxiously expensive cigars whenever he’s on a mission far from Gotham, not because he likes them, but because he knows they’ll get your attention. “Go on, princess, try it. I know you’re curious,” he’ll say, holding the cigar to your lips like it’s a dare.

Jason who never lets the ash hit the ground when you’re nearby. He stubs it out before you can complain about the smell or give him that look. God, that look—you’re worse than Alfred, but he can’t help loving it.

Jason who swears he doesn’t have an oral fixation, even though he constantly brushes his thumb over his lower lip while watching you. He murmurs, “You’re more addictive than nicotine, you know that?” right before he presses the cigarette back to his mouth, eyes never leaving yours.

Jason who grins every time you scold him for the habit, brushing his thumb over your cheek. “Don’t worry, princess. I’m addicted to something much worse than nicotine.” And he doesn’t have to say it, because the way his eyes lock on you, like you’re the only thing that matters, tells you exactly what he means.

Jason who will smoke less if it makes you happy, even though it drives him insane when you ask him to. Says something like, “I’m already a dead man walking, doll. What’s the harm?” But he’ll throw the pack away when you glare at him because he knows you’re right, even if he won’t admit it.

Jason who once tried to quit because you asked him to, and lasted three days before he came back to you, shaking and desperate. "I’ll quit, baby, I swear. Just... just give me time, yeah?" You held him, kissed his temple, and told him you didn’t care as long as he was okay. He’s never loved you more than he did in that moment.

Jason who tastes like smoke and leather when he kisses you—rough and familiar, like coming home after a long day. Who always holds your face a little too long after, like he’s trying to burn the memory of you into his mind.

Jason who, in a rare moment of vulnerability, tells you he only started smoking again after he came back from the dead. "It reminds me I’m alive," he says, exhaling smoke into the moonlight. You lean in, press a kiss to his jaw, and tell him he doesn’t need the cigarettes to prove that.

Jason who tells himself he’ll quit someday. For you. But tonight isn’t that day. So he lights another cigarette and mutters your name like a prayer, the smoke curling around him like a ghost.

Jason who keeps one cigarette in his bedside drawer, untouched and pristine, because it’s the first one you ever kissed for him. He doesn’t smoke it. He never will. It’s a reminder that you’re his, just like every other damn thing in his life.

— MASTERLIST ☆

— © luv-lock. Don't copy, use or translate any of my works here or any other websites ☆

[nezuscribe]

you should be here.

you really shouldn’t be here.

but you were a good friend, maybe too good a friend one would argue, and one of your girls heard about this underground gig (boxing, fighting?) going on and roped you into going.

and knowing you, this was way out of your comfort range. she was shocked you agreed to it, but you were tired of being perceived as the sheltered on and decided to bite the bullet and tag along.

but now you realize that you should’ve just stayed home and rewatched some stupid show.

because this place was giving you all sorts of signals to just get out.

it was in what seemed like a dingy warehouse that could only be accessed through some sketchy alley. you truly have no idea how she found this place and your betting that it wasn’t some ad she told you she saw on someone’s story.

the vast room was barely lit, with only a few lights flickering as they struggled to stay on. you felt like you’d catch an undiscovered disease if you sat anywhere and opted to stand, but that was another issue.

despite how destitute this place seemed to be, it was packed.

there were so many people standing near the ring, everybody yelling praises or shouts of anger as somebody took a punch. you could hear skin hitting skin, could hear the breaking of tissues and bones even from where you were.

your friend dragged you by the arm, seeming as if there was no worry about this place, and it was too late to go back even though the alarms in your head were going off.

fuck, you start thinking, what is this place? what if you bump into someone weird? what if the cops come? what if the location gets leaked? what would happen to you two? what if….

your mind trails off as your friend wiggles her way through an empty spot, bringing the two of you closer to the ring.

you look at the fighters, mouth going dry at the sight.

one of the fighters, the one facing you, seemed bloodied to no return. his eye was black and weeks shut, nose dripping with blood. his face was salted with bruises, his body sagging as the other fighter, the one with his back to you, took another fighting stance.

“he’s who i wanted to see,” bri mutters excitedly, pointing her finger to the fighter with white hair, “i’ve heard he’s really good,”

you nod slowly, looking around in a skittish way. you knew you should’ve said no, but you really cleave no choice but to support her and her dangerous side quests.

he plants another fist to the injured one’s face, making him stumble back as the white haired fighter angles his body sideways, letting you two get a look at his side profile.

he seemed fine, a little bruising on the cheek but nowhere near the damage of the other guy. he must be as good as bri says you guess.

the people around you hoot and holler, pushing you further into on of the poles as you wince in discomfort, your face twisting in pain a little as some of the men behind you push forward with no concept of personal space.

you look over at bri but she’s just as engaged, shouting for the white haired guy to continue beating the other man up in ways that could only be described as primal and very, very illegal.

it’s only a few more minutes before the match is ended and the two fighters are pulled away from each other, the battered one looking like he was one punch away from becoming limp.

the yells around you grow louder and louder, the sound rattling around in your head. you wince, trying to smile for bri as she jumps up and down. you know this is only the beginning of the night and can’t afford to bring the energy down.

the white haired one turns around, raising his hands as he asks for the noise to grow louder, a smile on his face as his bandaged hands curl into fists, one pumped victoriously in the air.

but that’s not what takes you by surprise.

your eyes widen in shock when you see his face, mouth dropping almost comically when you realize this isn’t a random street fighter,

but the nerdy boy who sits next to you in your neuroanatomy class.

and judging by the way gojo looks around until he sees you, the proud smile on his face faltering for a second before his eyes cloud with utter confusion,

he wasn’t expecting to see you here either.

[motthe]

Maybe some Young! Silco fic? (Or anything that you wanna do) I already loved his older version but his Young self in The last episodes got my heart in a grip 😭💖💖 He looks so full of dreams and maybe a little silly. Maybe with a energetic/chaotic significant other!

young!silco also has me in a death grip don't worry. hope you enjoy this!!

warnings: fem!reader, violence, sexual innuendos, secondhand embarrassment for drunk rambling

“It’s doable!”

“Doable and survivable are two very different things.”

Vander knocked his head against the metal backing of his mining gloves repeatedly, aching for the two of you to come to a compromise. The light of the fungi matched the tink tink tink of his patience running thin.

Crunching footsteps had him pausing, one eye opening to find Felicia pushing her helmet up higher on her head as she stared at you and Silco just beyond, still very much squabbling. She leaned on her hip, one hand rising to rest on it as she smiled down at Vander’s hunched form.

“Are they still arguing about the gap?” she whispered.

He groaned quietly instead of answering. It was all she needed.

“I can make it!” you protested, arms gesturing to the other side of the ravine. “I’ve jumped buildings twice the distance.”

“When you’re jumping buildings you can see the ground,” Silco argued, pointing to the darkness below. “We don’t know how long a fall that is, you absolute lunatic.”

“You’ve gotta hand it to her,” Felicia chuckled, taking up camp next to Vander. “No one else would even think of jumping across.”

“She’s an adrenaline junkie,” Vander muttered. “Jumping off shit is all she thinks about.”

“Would you—just let me—damn it, Sil!”

The shuffle of boots and clothes had both of their heads turning, watching with equally amused expressions as Silco passed by with you being half carried half dragged away from the ravine. Silco didn’t pay them a glance as he went. You kept stretching back the way you came, struggling but not truly putting all your energy into it. Felicia could tell. You loved being his center of attention for as long as possible, even if it kept you away from your wild pastimes. 

The sound of a horn echoed through the caves, sending the fungi white with the sound. The work day was finished. 

“Back to the last drop, then?” Felicia hummed, standing and offering a hand to the big man. He accepted it with a soft grin, following her out. The two of them watched Silco far ahead, who was now fully carrying you in your grieved state. You kept muttering you could have made it.

“Think they’ll ever get together?” she hummed, nudging Vander.

“Wish they would,” he sighed. “It was annoying years ago, now its just pitiful.”

She laughed, waving a hand at you when you pulled your head up from Silco’s shoulder to eye them. “Well, she’ll never do it. She’s convinced herself he’s too focused on our cause to ever settle down.”

“Some days I think the same thing,” Vander said, introspective when she glanced up at him, “others, I catch him looking at her. He doesn’t open up, barely does around us, but…”

“Disappears around her, yeah?” She smiled at him and he mirrored her, nodding.

Later that night, the Last Drop was bustling with the newest record added to the box. You’re dancing over chairs, running across the edge of the pool tables as people chant your name. Someone tossed a mug through the air and you caught it, swallowing the contents down and cheering with the rest before continuing on with dancing. 

Silco watched from his bar seat. He had cruel timing, turning his eyes back to his notebook when you pulled yourself away from the crowd to glance at him. To you, he was lost in his own world, but really he fell into yours quite easily. You were distracting. He perked up at the sound of your voice without meaning to, knew the outline of your body in his periphery. Abrasive and chaotic. You’re too much, too loud.

Too perfect for someone as withdrawn and stiff as him.

“Oh, heaven help me,” Vander grumbled, both hands on the bar as he stared at the scene. Silco paused to raise an eyebrow at him. “She just downed three shots in one.”

“How many does that make it now?” he questioned.

“Eight.”

Both of their heads dropped, knowing how the night would be going.

“All right, I give!” Felcia slammed a hand on the bar as she walked up, panting. “I can’t keep up with her. Gods. Where does she get the energy?”

Vander passed her a drink as Silco shrugged, music blaring all around them. Felicia scowled when she noticed his journal. 

“Oh, c’mon, Silco. Let loose for a bit!” she shouted over the din of the bar, clapping a hand on his shoulder. 

“If I did that, nothing would ever get done around here,” he returned, smirking as she rolled her eyes. 

The counter shook under them, the second bang of Vander’s fist sending both of them on high alert. Two meant trouble. 

Felicia spun around, Silco turned in his seat. There by the record player you were backed against the wall by a man, one arm caging you in while his fingers pinched your chin. The cold look in your eyes had a shiver streaking down Silco's spine. You were a storm like this and he’d been lost to it for years. 

The man said something that made you scoff, batting his hand away and sliding to get out from under him. As his hand grabbed your upper arm Silco realized he was no longer sitting. Even across the room he could read your lips.

“Last chance. Beat it,” you warned.

The man laughed and tugged you closer, it sent your knee right between his legs. When he bent over, Silco heard the crack as your fist met the man’s jaw. He hit the ground, dead weight. 

Fuck, he thought, hands curling into fists at his side. You were perfect.

You stumbled back a few steps. It seemed those shots had soaked in. You were cradling your hand as yells broke out, slow to turn as a couple of goons stood from a table nearby.

“Great,” Felicia puffed, pushing off the bar, “he had lackeys.”

Vander shouted as they ran at you, Silco was halfway to you when you dodged the first swing, putting you straight into the path of another. Your back hit the record player, a scratch disrupting the music. The entire bar turned, regulars rushing forward without second thought and jumping the goons. 

Silco went straight to you, mindful of the chair Felicia was brandishing overhead as she flew into the meat of the fight. 

“Let me see,” he said, sliding a hand under your jaw and tilting your head back. You were hunching, still holding that hand of yours to your chest. 

“Hey, Sil,” you slurred, grinning and wincing. Your lower lip was busted, the right side of your face already beginning to swell from the jaw up. “Can you believe that guy? Down in one hit, hah!”

“Still have all your teeth?” he asked, wiping the blood trailing from the corner of your mouth. 

“What? You want me to open wide for you?”

He ticked a brow, scowling through the heat that flashed through his stomach. 

“Come on, let’s get ice on that,” he muttered, wrapping an arm around you. You hummed happily, falling into his side. Even as drunk as you were, your feet barely stumbled as he led you to the basement door. He nodded to Vander who already had the same idea, coming around the back of the bar to pass him an ice pack and a clean rag. He thanked him.

“Take care of her,” Vander said, rubbing a hand over your back. You tossed the big man a smile before he returned to his station.

“Keep that on there,” Silco said to you, heart aching as you hissed at the touch of it. 

“I’ve got it,” you muttered, hand brushing his. He made sure you kept it pressed to your cheek before opening the door and helping you in first, careful of the stairs as he closed it behind him. The sounds of fighting and the skipping music was muffled as he led you into the bowels of the Last Drop, setting you down gently on the couch.

He reached for your hand, frowning when you turned away from him. 

“Let me see,” he said.

“It’s fine,” you grumbled, curling into the couch.

“I’d like to see that for myself,” he pushed, fingers gentle as they smoothed over your wrist. Your furrowed brow relaxed a bit, watery eyes trailing to him. “Let me see,” he asked again, softer.

You sighed, the weight of your arm settling into his palm as he moved to sit next to you. You hand shook in both of his, the skin of your knuckles ripped open and gushing red. When he attempted to move your pointer and middle fingers you whimpered, head falling into his shoulder.

He apologized, pulling one hand away to reach into his jacket. “It’s sprained. I’ll need to wrap it.”

“Sweet Sil,” you sighed, your good cheek rubbing against his shoulder as you brought your knees up, “always prepared for the worst.”

“I wouldn’t have to be if you weren’t constantly getting into trouble,” he hummed, pulling out a roll of bandages and beginning his work. You curled into him as he cleaned you up, tensing when he secured your bruised digits. As he tied the bandages off around your wrist, he sighed, holding your hand in his, thumb running over your skin. 

“M’sorry,” you sniffed.

He turned his head, a breath punched from his lungs as he saw tears slipping down your cheeks. The ice pack laid abandoned in your lap. 

“What are you apologizing for?” he murmured, brushing your hair out of your face. 

“I always make a mess,” you whispered, little gasps slipping. Each one was a bullet to his chest. He couldn’t stand seeing you cry. “I always annoy you.”

“No,” he murmured, arms stretching over you to pull you into his lap, “no, you don’t annoy me, pet.”

“Yes, I do,” you sobbed. “I get into t-trouble when I-when I just want you to look at me.”

Oh, Gods help him. He knew this was the alcohol talking but the hopeful flame in his heart was burning into a torch. He needed to calm you down and get you to bed. 

“I’m looking,” he said, lips grazing your forehead as he rubbed your back. “You don’t have to try so hard. I’m always looking.”

You sniffed and he grabbed the bloody rag, nudging the cleanest corner towards you to blow your nose. He chuckled when you groaned, curling deeper into his chest.

“Too drunk for this,” you mumbled. “Stupid shots.”

“Stupid shots, indeed,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Let's get you some water and go to bed.”

You whined, hiding your face in his neck. “Wanna stay here. M’warm.”

He sighed, settling into the couch. Eventually you would nod off. He’d carry you into bed, then.

“Hair’s nice.”

“What?” he chuckled, trying to look down at you, but it was impossible with you smushed up against him.

“Your hair,” you said, lips moving against his neck. “I like it when it’s bun. Hair frames your face nice. S’handsome.”

You’re going to hate yourself in the morning, he thought, holding back his laughter. You were never going to live this down and he wasn’t nearly nice enough to not tease you about this for the rest of your life. 

“Face hurts,” you sighed. He rubbed your calf, shushing you.

“Sleep, pet,” he murmured against your forehead. 

“You’ll stay?” you asked.

“I’ll stay,” he promised.

[slutla]

“A” 4 EFFORT ! | MARK GRAYSON X FEM READER

warnings: 18+. nsfw. nerd ! mark grayson, bimbo! bully! reader. mark is a dork n i love him idc. boob job, blow job. marks a virgin. usage of puppy. spit. indecency in a storage room. whimpering. he cries. college au. no powers. pet names, corny nick names but it’s used in a degrading way. degradation. praise. he’s obvi a lil ooc.

summary: mark, smart, awkward, and far too soft-hearted, made the mistake of doing one too many assignments for you. a bully in heels, unhinged and relentless, you’ve taken a liking to him in the worst way possible. wc: 4.0k-ish

an: minors n ageless blogs dni. i scraped n rewrote this idea like 3 times b4 finally finishing it. whoops.

Mark is hiding—yes, literally hiding—curled up like some sad, oversized hermit crab shoved into the mildew-scented dark of the campus storage closet. Knees pulled to his chest, hoodie bunched over his head, the flickering overhead light doing nothing but throwing sad little shadows across his hunched spine. He’s tucked into himself like if he folds small enough, maybe you won’t find him. Maybe you’ll just assume he’s dead and move on.

He did your assignment again. Like always. Like clockwork. Like the stupid little pet you keep on a leash of guilt and half-smiles and flirty threats. But this time? He tanked it. On purpose. Slipped in the wrong citations, fudged the formatting, “forgot” a conclusion. Got you a solid C-minus. Barely scraped the bottom of passable. And now he’s sitting here marinating in dread, picturing your reaction—the dramatic sigh, the tilt of your head, the sharp, sweet twist of your mouth when you’re disappointed. Or worse, unamused.

He’d tried to convince himself it was a smart move. A soft rebellion. Maybe if you bomb once, you’ll stop throwing your workload into his lap like it’s part of his tuition. Maybe you’ll get the message without him having to look you in the eye and say no.

But now he’s here, heart doing that ugly fluttery thing like it’s trying to crawl up his throat, every footstep outside the door sounding like you in your usual stormcloud mood. Sharp clacking shoes. Soft voice. That sugary venom in your tone when you call his name like you own it. His phone buzzes. A small sound, pathetic even, but it might as well have been a gunshot for the way it ricochets through the cramped silence.

Mark jumps, a sharp, startled twitch of limbs against concrete and metal shelving, knocking into a box of dusty paper towels with a soft thud. His heart nearly claws its way out of his ribcage, frantic and feathered, wings beating uselessly against bone. With a hand that barely feels like his, fingers cold and trembling, he drags the phone out of his pocket. Screen cracked, brightness low. It lights up his face like an omen. One message. From you.

“I will find you.” That’s it. No smiley face, no punctuation. Just four words, typed clean and sharp like a promise. His blood turns into static. Because he knows you. Knows the games you play, the way you turn hide-and-seek into warfare. This isn’t a bluff. You will find him. You’ll crawl through every hallway, knock on every door, whisper his name down every corridor until he’s backed into a corner with no exit and no excuse. He swallows hard, breath caught halfway in his throat.

The knob fumbles. A weak, clumsy twist. Mark freezes, every nerve pulled taut like snapped violin strings and watches it turn in slow, gut-wrenching motion. And then you’re there. Grinning like you already won. Framed in the doorway like sin incarnate, all legs and ruined decency.

Your skirt’s a joke, barely there, riding high enough that he catches soft glimpses of plush skin, the smooth curve of your thighs glowing beneath the low hallway light. Your top’s slouched off one shoulder, bra strap peeking out. Lips glossy. Shameless. Entirely too much. Mark feels his soul leave his body. He should’ve picked somewhere with a lock. A church, maybe. A different continent.

“Well, well,” you laugh real pretty, like this is a game and you’ve already decided the ending. He wants to crawl into the mop bucket.

“Why do you look so scared, Marky?” Your voice is syrupy sweet, sticky with fake concern. A pout on your lips, mock-sincere, but your eyes give you away, glinting, bright, sharp like broken glass.

Mark flinches again, visibly, like the nickname itself has claws. He hates that name. You know he does. He’s told you, multiple times, in that tight, awkward voice like he’s trying not to snap. And still, there you go, dragging it out like gum on the sidewalk.

His skin prickles, goosebumps crawling up his arms like your words live beneath them. “I don’t bite,” you add, stepping forward, one slow click of heel against floor after another. But you do. You bite and chew and leave bruises just from talking, and he’s not sure what’s worse, the way your words twist around his spine or the way his traitorous heart jumps every time you say his name like it belongs to you. He doesn’t answer. Can’t. His mouth’s too dry.

He stands up. God knows where he finds the nerve, maybe somewhere between survival instinct and dumb luck but he pushes off the stack of old textbooks and stands on shaky legs, spine straightening like a man preparing for war.

Too late. You’re already on him. The door clicks shut behind you, soft but final, like the last nail in a coffin. You don’t even give him room to breathe, step right into him, cut off his air, your chest pressed flush against his. He feels everything. The soft weight of your tits against his ribs, the heat of your skin soaking through his hoodie, the sweet, toxic scent of your perfume curling into his lungs.

There’s nowhere to look. Nowhere to run. And God, he wishes he wasn’t so aware of the way his heart’s pounding like it’s trying to punch through his sternum.

“L-look…” His voice cracks halfway through, eyes darting to the dusty shelves, the light fixture, anywhere but you. “I’m really sorry… I didn’t do it on purpose.” A lie. Such a bad, obvious, choking lie. It clings to the back of his throat like smoke, bitter and foul. He can feel your smirk before he even sees it

Your face hovers just inches from his, the space between you nothing but shared breath and tension so thick it could choke. Your plum-glossed lips linger just over his, not quite touching like a threat, like a dare. You’re pretty. Pretty in a way that feels curated, intentional. Glossy and shallow like a magazine ad come to life. It makes his ears burn, dusted pink at the tips. He looks like he wants to disappear into the wall. You look like you’d pin him to it for fun.

“Awe, Marky, you’re being so mean to me, you know that, right?” Your voice dips low, not soft, not gentle, but lush and poisoned, the kind of sweetness that sticks in your teeth and leaves a burn going down.

You pout like you’re heartbroken, big eyes all shiny, lips pushed out in that perfect little curve, and jab a single manicured finger into his chest, firm and unforgiving. He doesn’t move. Can’t. It’s like you’ve nailed him to the floor, body locked up, breath hitched.

Your long nail presses into the fabric of his hoodie, right over the solid thrum of his heartbeat. He’s trembling under you, not visibly, not like a coward, but in that subtle way only you notice. The kind of tremble that starts in the hands and climbs up the neck. The kind that comes from being caught.

“I trusted you,” you add, voice dropping just a little more, breathy and laced with mock hurt. “And you went ‘n sabotaged me? After I've been soo nice to you?”

He gulps. Loud and shaky, Adam’s apple bobbing like it’s trying to make a run for it. Poor thing.

“Sweet puppy’s grown a backbone now, has he?” you coo, tilting your head, voice dipped in amusement that’s just short of cruel. You don’t pull away. Of course you don’t, instead, that impossible closeness tightening like a noose.

His shoulders hit the shelf behind him with a soft thud. He can’t back away any further. Your chest presses against his, soft curves molded against hard muscle, and you feel it—feel everything. The way his breath stutters. The way his hands twitch at his sides like he’s trying not to grab you.

And lower, the real betrayal. He’s half-hard, thick and aching, tenting his pants like a loaded secret he can’t tuck away. You smile, slow and lazy, eyes flicking downward, then back to his face.

“Cute,” you murmur, almost fond. He wants the ground to swallow him whole.

You slide a hand down. Deliberate. Slow. Like you’ve got all the time in the world to ruin him. Fingers trail over the thick line in his pants, heat trapped beneath the fabric, swollen and straining—and you wrap your hand around it through the material, squeezing just enough to make him suck in a breath. His hips twitch. His jaw clenches.

He’s trembling now, a little, but it’s there. A ripple under your palm. You look him right in the eyes, eyes wide and glinting with something unholy. Your thumb strokes once. Soft. Cruel.

“Did me callin’ you a puppy make you hard?” Your voice is low, a velvet drawl, wrapped around mockery like it’s a love song.

“You’re, uhh… too close…” He whispers it. Barely. Like maybe if he says it soft enough, the words won’t count. His whole body is stiff, locked up, trying not to think about your hand wrapped firm around his bulge, the heat of your palm, the way your thumb had moved.

But it’s impossible. You’re too close. Too close. You’re all over him, heat and scent and lips a breath away, voice curling into his ear like silk and fire. And his brain? It’s white noise. He swallows hard, again, like maybe that’ll push the shame back down. Like maybe it’ll kill the way his dick pulses helplessly under your grip. But it doesn’t. Nothing helps.

You can feel it too, the way his body betrays him, twitching under your hand like he’s trying so hard to behave, to not give in. It’s adorable, You think.

You half-smile, head tilted, lip gloss catching the light like temptation bottled up. “Let’s make a deal,” you hum, voice flat and casual, like you’re discussing lunch plans, not unhinged propositions. “I’ll suck your dick, and you do my work properly.”

He chokes. Not metaphorically, he literally chokes, breath catching mid-gasp like his lungs betrayed him. His face flushes immediately, that soft, pale pink crawling up his neck to the tips of his ears.

“W-what… what do you—” His voice breaks, small and high and strangled, as if saying it out loud would summon lightning. You roll your eyes so hard it’s almost theatrical, exasperation oozing off you like perfume. “What’re you actin’ dumb for?” you snap, grip tightening just a little around his cock, enough to make his hips twitch again.

“You’re already hard.” Your words hit him square in the gut, shame blooming behind his eyes, his mouth working silently like he wants to say something, protest, maybe—but all he manages is a sound. A low, broken exhale that sounds suspiciously like surrender.

He’s not pulling away. And he’s not saying no. You notice. And he’s cute, you think so now. In a nerdy, helpless, needy kinda way. The flushed ears. The twitchy hands. The stutter in his voice like he’s not used to being handled. It’s charming. Pathetic. A little funny.

So really, it’s a win-win. He gets to feel the touch of a woman—maybe for the first time, if you had to guess, and you get guaranteed grades for life. Straight A’s and a warm mouthful of praise every time you strut past your professors. Everyone’s happy.

You lean in, your nose brushing his, lips brushing the shell of his ear now, soft enough to be dangerous. “You gonna be good for me, Marky?” you whisper, voice sticky and slow.

“I’m a real good fuck, actually,” you say, so breezy, so matter-of-fact it’s almost cruel. Your smile’s all teeth and glittering pride as your knees bend, thighs spreading just a touch as they kiss the cold linoleum floor. He looks down at you, eyes blown wide and lips parted like he’s watching a dream and a nightmare crawl into his lap at the same time. You tilt your head, all smug satisfaction and sweet venom.

“You got lucky,” you hum, palms sliding up the inside of his thighs now, thumbs hooking the waistband of his pants like a promise. And he knows it. Knows he’s in over his head. Knows you’ve got him right where you want him.

You make a show of it. Fingers slow and precise, unbuttoning him like you’re unwrapping a present you already know you’ll like. The zipper drags down with a lazy hum, and his breath stutters. He clenches the fabric of his hoodie like it might anchor him.

You tug his pants down just far enough, and then the boxers. He twitches when the cold air hits him, body jerking like he wasn’t ready, like he should’ve been, but wasn’t. And yeah. He’s big. Your lashes flutter. A slow, lazy grin curls on your lips like sin itself is stretching out to get comfortable. It’s better than you expected—thick, flushed dark, heavy where it hangs, and already leaking like his body’s ahead of his brain. Small pearls of pre ooze from his slit, leaving a slimy trail all the way down to his heavy balls and a light dusting of hair.

You glance up, just to watch his expression twist, poor boy, caught somewhere between pride and terror. His mouth parts like he might say something, but nothing comes. You look back down and press a soft kiss to the tip, soft and sweet. The mess sticks to your gloss, shines faintly when you pull back just an inch.

He whispers something—barely, like even his voice is too embarrassed to say it out loud. But your hand’s already moving, slow and deliberate, working him up with lazy strokes that make his legs twitch. You tilt your head, smile playing soft on your lips like you don’t know he’s on the verge of breaking.

“What’dya want, baby?” You purr it, like honey slipping off your tongue, like he has any real say in the matter. A mercy, letting him speak at all. He stutters, Red all the way down his neck now, lip caught between his teeth as his voice cracks.

“Y-your tits…” A breathless pause. “Wanna… feel them.” His hands hover, fingers twitching mid-air like he’s too scared to ask properly, like he’s afraid you’ll laugh.

You blink once, then laugh anyway—not mocking, more amused, indulgent. You lean forward just enough for your chest to brush against him, soft and warm through the thin fabric of your top.

“You wanna feel these?” Your voice drips slow, the words curling at the edges, soft like something wicked in silk. He nods before you’ve even finished the sentence—frantic, desperate, practically drooling like a mutt starved for affection. It’s pathetic. It’s adorable. It’s everything.

You bat your lashes, long and thick, gaze dipped half-lidded as your fingers slip beneath the hem of your shirt. You tug it up slow, just to watch the hunger flicker in his eyes, then reach behind your back, a quick flick, and the bra slips off like it was never really meant to stay on.

They bounce free, soft and full, skin warm and glowing under the harsh closet light, and his breath catches so sharp you swear he might choke on it. You cup them lightly, just enough to make them spill between your fingers, teasing him without saying a word. Then, voice dropping lower, sweeter, with a tenderness that makes it sting:

“You wanna feel ’em with your dick… or your hands, puppy?” You watch his brain short-circuit, like he doesn’t know what’ll kill him faster. He doesn’t answer —can’t. His mouth opens like he wants to speak, but no sound comes out. Just a shaky breath and a helpless look, red-faced and wide-eyed, every ounce of his nerve short-circuiting all at once.

So you make the choice for him. You lean in, slow and deliberate, gaze fixed on his like you’re daring him to look away. One hand slips between your tits, the other trailing down with intention, You press your breasts together again, as his leaky ‘n throbbing cock slides in between them.

His knees nearly buckle. His breath comes in short, desperate little bursts, hands twitching at his sides like he doesn’t know where to touch, if he even can.

You tilt your head. “Feels good, huh?” Voice velvet-soft now, syrupy and slow. “Bet you’ve never had anything close to this.” And he hasn’t, And he knows it. Your slick, glistening breasts slide along his throbbing cock, coated in his warm precum. As you glide them up and down, your tongue flicks deliberately at his sensitive tip, teasing with slow, hungry licks. Mark’s body trembles, his muscles clenching with every shuddering breath. He ruts eagerly against your soft, yielding tits, like a dog in heat lost in the overwhelming pleasure. Nothing he’s ever fucked—his hand, a pillow, a toy—comes close to the wet, enveloping warmth of your breasts and mouth.

Your tongue swirls and laps at his pulsing cock, wet slurps and soft gags echoing through the room, mingling with the rhythmic slap of his balls against your slick, heaving tits. Mark’s groans are deep, guttural, his chest rumbling as you gently squeeze his balls, sending a jolt through his trembling frame. “You’re pretty big,” you coo, voice dripping with praise, “such a shame it’s attached to a dork who doesn’t even know how to use it.”

Mark lets out a desperate whine as you guide his throbbing shaft into the tight, wet warmth of your throat, deepthroating the length not already enveloped by the soft, plush fat of your tits. His cock throbs with every bob of your head, slick and warm in your throat. Mark’s in bliss, thinking if he died now, he’d go out happy, his dick devoured by such a pretty girl. Your soft pants, warm puffs of air teasing his sensitive tip, push him closer to the edge. His balls tighten, hips jerking as he feels the surge building, ready to unleash his pent-up load across your face and dripping tits.

“Hah—‘m gonna cum,” Mark chokes out, voice shattered, breathless, like he’s unraveling at the seams, pleasure swallowing him whole. You hum, low and smug, a wicked edge to it, and double down. Your head bobs faster, throat clenching around his pulsing cock, gurgling slurps and wet gags filling the air—loud, obscene, a filthy symphony just for him. Your tits, slick with spit and precum, squeeze his shaft tight, a perfect, plush vise. His dick’s buried in heaven, warm, wet, yours to ruin.

His legs quake, thighs trembling like they might give out. Head thrown back, it thumps against the wall, his only anchor as he falls apart. You catch the way his fingers claw at nothing, fists white-knuckled, and that pathetic, broken whimper slipping from his lips? It’s fucking music. His balls tighten, hips jerking erratic, desperate. He’s a mess, sweat-slick, eyes glassy, whimpering like he’s never been touched before.

“Poor Marky,” you say with a pop, voice dripping with mockery, using your hand to finish him off. “Thought you could handle me. Big cock, no clue how to use it.” Your pace doesn’t falter, lips slick, hand relentless, tits bouncing with every move. “Gonna blow already? Such a shame.”

And with that little remark, that teasing curl of your lips, that tone too smug to be anything but wicked, he falls apart. All messy ‘n sloppy, big fat load creating a warm and wet mess all over your breasts and dirtying your pretty face. A few stray droplets kiss your cheek, cling to your lashes. You blink slow, licking your lips like it’s nothing. Like this happens all the time.

You blink slow, all lazy-lidded and smug, the corners of your mouth twitching like you’re holding back more laughter—the kind that would make him shrink even further if he had anywhere left to run. But he doesn’t. He’s stuck there, looking absolutely devastated by his own body, like his soul left him mid-spill and hasn’t come back yet.

“Tears?” you croon, voice dipped in honey and mockery. “You cryin’ over this? Oh, baby.”

You reach up and swipe your thumb across the corner of his eye, not gently. It’s teasing, purposeful, like you want to see if the contact will shatter him completely. And it nearly does. His breath hitches and his eyes flutter closed like even that’s too much. His lashes are damp. His cheeks hot. He’s blushing so hard it looks painful. Shame clinging to him like a second skin.

“Don’t tell me that was your first time gettin’ off with someone watchin’,” you murmur, tilting your head, lips twitching again. “God, that’s actually so cute. I could eat you alive.”

And he doesn’t answer—just stands there, stiff and red and broken open in the prettiest way. You lean in close, your voice a whisper now. “Bet you’ll do anything I ask now, won’t you?”

He nods, slow and small like he’s ashamed of it — like even that’s a surrender too humiliating to admit out loud. But it’s there. Clear as day. He’s yours now. All soft eyes and trembling hands and a brain melted to mush. You smile, bright and sweet like you didn’t just break him down into dust.

Your fingers trace lazy circles on his bicep—featherlight, affectionate, like you’re rewarding a pet after a trick well done. And your tone? Cheerful. Too cheerful. Like you’ve moved on already.

“Great!” you chirp, lips popping on the G. “You can resubmit that assignment for me.” He stares, chest still rising and falling like he ran a marathon, lips parted like he wants to protest—like he’s got dignity left in some corner of his soul. But he doesn’t speak. Just swallows hard and looks away.

“Don’t look so gloomy, Marky,” you purr, already turning to adjust your skirt, unfazed. “You came, I smiled, we both got something outta it. Now go on. I want that A.”

You wink over your shoulder. He’s still standing there, stunned, pants around his thighs, wondering how the hell he ended up in this situation when he was trying to get out of it the first time.

[rafesangelita]

so anyway I was thinking about something about bitchy!Kook!reader (since she's my ultimate favorite)

maybe rafe has gifted her a promise ring at some point in their relationship, and despite all their highs and lows, even in their worst nights, she has NEVER taken it off

and maybe they are in a heated argument and they're mad at each other (but not broken up, just mad) and they are attending a party and he notices that she isn't wearing it, so he loses his absolute shit and drags her somewhere, making a scene and telling her how much he cares about her (in his own way, ofc) and how hurt he is until she simply smirks and tells him that she's taken it off because she's getting it cleaned up

-🦉

warnings: arguing, slight angst, light fluff

a/n: join my private community for girly talks! ♡ you can comment under this post, send me a message, or leave something in my ask box for an invitation!

“can you fix your face? ‘at least try to act like you want to be here with me right now?” rafe whispered in your ear, a slight pinch of irritation lacing his tone. you swallowed thickly, flashing him a glare as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders so he wouldn’t draw any unnecessary attention towards you two. “i told you i wanted to leave a long time ago and instead of wrapping things up, you disappeared for another drink. i’ve been sitting here on this couch with you for over two hours now, listening to your idiot friends talk about their latest escapades. how about you fix your fucking face?”

rafe looked around to make sure no one caught any of the words that just left your mouth, his jaw clenching as he gripped you by the back of your neck. “is that how you’re gonna act right now? that’s what we’re doing?” at this, you trailed a hand down rafe’s stomach, your nails digging into his flesh hard enough to make him hiss and let go of you. “grab me like that again and i’ll leave your ass in front of everybody.” rafe knew that wasn’t an empty threat, considering you’ve already done it before and topper still hasn’t let him live the embarrassment down.

rafe gave you a curt nod, his eyes raking down your form before they rested on your bare fingers. “what the fuck?” he spoke out loud, the group conversation coming to a halt. without another word, rafe got up, dragging you along with him as he guided you two outside to his truck. “oh, now you wanna go home?” you scoffed, managing to pull away from him before he hoisted you into the passenger’s seat, his body wedged between the door as he took ahold of your hands. “i know we’ve been fighting a lot recently, and i’m sure we get on each other’s nerves all the time, but taking off your ring? are you fucking serious?”

your eyebrows knitted in confusion, your mouth barely opening before rafe started going on a rampage. “i bought you that ring to uphold a promise to you, y/n, and i’ve kept it. through all of our bullshit, through all of our problems, through damn near everything; you’ve never taken that ring off. even when we were close to leaving each other once and for all, you were still wearing it. that ring saved us, and now? you’re just giving up like that?” rafe sounded pained, his voice dropping slightly as his chest rose and fell in uneven breaths. “rafe—” you tried to interject again, but still he continued.

“i love you, and i know i fucking suck at showing it, but you know i do. you’re the only person who puts up with my shit and still loves me as i am. you work with me even though i make it really hard, and you don’t throw my mistakes in my face every chance you get. you’re patient with me when i least deserve it.. i could go on and on about everything you do for me.. please just put your ring back on.” you weren’t expecting rafe to pour his heart out to you, your anger from earlier dissipating into nothing as your gaze softened. “i can’t—” rafe groaned, kneeling down onto the step bar of the truck as he held your hands to his chest.

“why?!” you couldn’t help but laugh, your resolve crumbling as rafe looked up at you desperately. “what’s so funny? i’m literally about to have a panic attack right now.” you laughed harder, shaking your head. “rafe, i’m getting my ring cleaned! i’ve been trying to tell you since you dragged me out here but you kept interrupting me.” your boyfriend let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, his shoulders falling in relief. “when did you take it?” you helped him off his knees, rolling your eyes as he pulled you into his embrace. “remember, i told you i was going to the mall with chanel? i dropped it off there and i’m supposed to go back for it tomorrow..”

rafe nodded, his hands running up and down your back. “well, we better get you another ring for when you’re getting the other one cleaned. i can’t have you giving me heart attacks like that.”

[backtothefanfiction]

Sleep Talking | Joaquin Torres

Summary; Joaquin could never keep a secret.

Warnings: none, this is all fluff

A/N: I couldn’t sleep until I’d put something out so yeah, this is just a real quick short before bed kind of story. I’ll get back on my asks/wips/part 2s of stuff tomorrow. For now, enjoy this. Also sorry I haven’t done tags it’s late and I’m tired so hope this finds you fine.

You woke unable to breathe. “Ouch, Joaquin,” you grumbled as your mind and body slowly dragged itself from sleep.

“Huh?” He grumbled sleepily.

“Baby, you’re squishing me.”

“What?” he groaned, but you could tell he was only half awake.

“Roll over. You’re squishing me. And you’re making me feel like I’m sleeping with a freaking radiator. Jeez.” you moaned as he shifted slightly and you truly felt how stifling it had become under the covers.

“It’s not me. It’s you,” he sleepily grumbled. You didn’t even have a chance to respond before he grumbled another response. “No.” he said with a sigh as he rolled back over onto his back on his pillow. “It was you. I know you ate my sandwich.” he mumbled.

Sandwich? What was he- ohhh, he’s sleep talking.

You chuckled to yourself as you rolled over onto your side to watch him sleep. Every now and again his lips would silently move to talk again, but it was mostly silent. You were just about to close your eyes and go back to sleep when you heard the words, “Because I’m going to marry her.”

There was a pause as if he was listening to someone else speak before he said, “What do you mean who? Y/N who else. I’ve already got the ring. I’ve been keeping it in my underwear drawer for weeks now.”

You were suddenly wide awake. You didn’t know if it was just the dream or if there was some actual truth to it and his subconscious was bleeding through. But there was one thing for sure, you weren’t going back to sleep until you knew for sure.

You tried to be as quiet as you possibly could as you crept out of bed, reaching for your phone and turning on the torch. Your feet padded quietly across the floor as Joaquin continued to let out small little murmurs. Every tiny shift you made to open the drawer sounded like thunder in your ears and you desperately hoped he wouldn’t wake up and catch you in the act. You gave one last quick tug on the old dresser drawer and there it was. Barely concealed by a pair of underpants, a square blue box.

You stood frozen in agony as you warred with yourself over what to do. Did you look and ruin the surprise completely or did you pretend you didn’t know it was there and climb back into bed. But you couldn’t help it. Now you knew of its existence, it was going to be burning a hole in the back of your head. You just wanted to be sure he picked a good ring, you tried to reason with yourself. You could be a good actress. You could still look surprised. You tried to rationalise as your fingers pulled out the velvet box. I mean he’s asleep, he’s not gonna know. You thought.

“Baby? What are you doing?” Joaquin asked, his voice hoarse with sleep. You looked at him guiltily. This was no sleep talking, he was well and truly awake now, sitting upright in bed as his eyes squinted, trying to adjust to the light of your torch in the dim room. That’s when he looked at your hands. “Oh shit!” he exclaimed. “Baby, I- wait, how did you-“ he paused as you continued to stand at the end of the bed frozen. Then he realised. “I was sleep talking.”

“Yes.” you finally said softly.

He groaned in frustration. “My mom said I could never keep a secret. I just wished for once I could have kept this one.”

“It’s alright,” you said.

“Did you look?” he asked.

“Not yet.” you replied. Your answer brought a soft smile to his face and he silently beckoned you over to sit with him.

“You know, I was waiting to do this on that trip to New York we were gonna take in a couple of weeks.” he began to explain, “but I guess this is good too.” Although it was dark in the room, you could tell he was beginning to blush as he took the box from your fingers.

“Y/N,” he said as his fingers deftly removed the ring from the box before he set it to one side. He tucked the ring into his fingers so you couldn’t see it just yet before he shuffled closer to you to continue his speech. “I have been in love with you from the minute I laid eyes on you. You can ask any of the boys, the second I saw you I said, that’s her, that’s the girl I’m going to marry. And of course they didn’t believe me, but I knew. You’ve been there with me for everything. Every hard day. Every promotion. You were always there to be my light and cheer me on.” he said, his voice shaking slightly with nerves. “You make every single day of my life, so much brighter and I don’t ever want to think of a day when you don’t wake up by my side. Y/N, will you do me, the greatest honour of my whole life,” he said, finally holding out the ring to you. “Will you marry me?”

It may have been 4am. It may have been in the dark of the night and extremely unconventional, but it was Joaquin. And you were always going to say yes to Joaquin.

[thecoochiefairy]

soon az i get home. onyankopon.

𑄽𑄺 warnings 𑄽𑄺 6.8K word count. blackfem!reader, r&b artist coded! onyankopon, grumpy! onyankopon, sweet!onyankopon, dominant!onyankopon, size kink, black woman, vaginal penetration, lil bit of sweet talkin’, lil bit of aggressive talk, creaming, oral [f], choking, praising, LOTS of dirty talk, squirting, riding, condomless sex, kissing, spanking, minors aren’t welcome!

━━ 𝒄𝙤𝒐𝙘𝒉𝙞𝒆𝙛𝒂𝙞𝒓𝙮 𝙩𝒉𝙤𝒖𝙜𝒉𝙩𝒔 .ᐟ reference to the title, this song did inspire this fic. teehee.

𝓐ᥫ᭡ :: onyankopon pays you a visit when he touches down in the city.

visual. visual. visual.

SHINE N’ JAM LATHERED YOUR FINGERS AS YOU TOOK A FINAL SWIPE TO YOUR CLIENTS HAIR. Bohemian box braids had been the style of choice, 613 the full color from her permanently dyed scalp. It wasn’t a color you would’ve chosen for yourself, but it looked beautiful along her chocolate brown skin. She pulled it off flawlessly.

“Niggas wouldn’t know what to do with me if I could pull off being a blonde,” you sigh, giving a light smile as you’re on the final braid, your fingers moving effortlessly against the hair being pulled between your knuckles.

“They barely know what to do with me as it is,” she playfully rolled her eyes, “How much longer to go?” 

As she held her phone up, you took a peek in the mirror, able to tell she was on FaceTime. No doubt with her man again.

“I’m on my last braid, babe. Promise,” you reassure, knowing you’d said that before. You had a habit of creating more spaces along your clients scalp, unable to finish your work until you felt that the hair looked entirely full.

“You sure?” 

She smirked at you through the side view mirror, her brown eyes twinkling, “The last time you said that, I had to call off work.”

It had only been about six months since you began doing house calls, meaning you were more relaxed in the comfort of your condo—but that didn’t mean you had to drag with your appointments.

“I’m sorry, okay? I know I went over my time a bit. I just want you to feel…” you turn her chair towards the illuminating mirror, mahogany brown wood wrapped along the outside of the LED lights, “Pretty, hm? Tell me you like it since you wanna complain so much.”

“You want to hear that I love it so desperately,” she smiled, standing up from the chair to inspect herself. She didn’t bother with a cape anymore, her black tank showing off her collarbone and arms. The braids fell just behind her shoulders, “You know I love it. Always do.”

She glances back as you begin sweeping strands off the floor, raising an eyebrow, “You’ need help cleaning up for the night?”

“No, no—you’re fine,” you shake your head, “I got one more client coming. Asked me to squeeze him in,” you briefly explain. 

You can feel her gaze against you, raising your eyes to a smirk as you say, “What, girl?”

“One more client, huh?” she folded her arms over her chest, the smirk still there, “Girl, please. It’s after ten,” she lightly laughed, “Who is it?”

You roll your eyes with a sigh. She was one of your regular clients, and you talked like sisters. You couldn’t help but be honest. 

“Look, don’t go opening that big ass mouth. It’s Onyankopon, okay? He still comes back down to get his hair braided by me.”

Everyone in New Orleans knew him—he’d actually been successful in making it out of the city, becoming a world renowned R&B artist. You’d been braiding his hair up for years, keeping the relationship you had with him extremely private as he didn’t want anyone ruining your privacy.

“Onyankopon?—You lying right now,” she gawked, slapping a hand over her mouth, “Nah, I got to take a picture—I promise you I won’t tell nobody,” she bit her bottom lip, “I promise!”

You rolled your eyes, “Girl, no. He doesn’t want people to know his location in the city—he hates that,” you take some Lysol, spraying down the chair.

“Just one picture, beloved, please? I’ll give you—I’ll pay you,” she took her wallet out, shuffling through her cash, “I know the man is finer in person. You be trying to be so secretive with these Niggas—“

She pauses, “Hollon’—y’all got something going on? That’s why I can’t get no picture?”

“Girl, what? No,” you scrunch your nose, “I just do the man’s hair,” you began pulling out the products you needed for the upcoming appointment, now hiding your face from your client.

You wouldn’t say you had a thing with him. Your relationship started the moment he DM’d you. He said he remembered you from high school and asked you to be his braider—he also mentioned you were pretty—but that wasn’t relevant to the situation. With each appointment, you never treated him as if he was some celebrity. He was just…Onyankopon. He liked that about you.

“Aht, aht,” she shook her head, “If it isn’t nothing with that man, lemme’ get a peek then!”

You rolled your eyes, “Now you ain’t getting shit. I’ll see you in five weeks,” you shooed her behind with your hands, pressing the elevator within your condo.

“Whatever, hoe.” 

She stepped on the elevator, looking back at you with a smirk, “You can kiss that tip goodbye!” 

Then she was off, the doors closing behind her. You finally had a moment of peace. You allowed the instrumentals of Brent Faiyaz’ Wasteland to thrum along your living room as you cleaned, suddenly feeling a sense of anxiety. You don’t know why you feel yourself becoming so nervous due to the previous conversation you had—but you felt your stomach bubbling at the thought of the elevator doors opening with him on the other side. You’d never felt like this before.

Then, your phone rings. Your eyes glance down—ONY—it reads, and you have to swallow down the racehorse running within your mind as you mindlessly answer, “Hello?”

“You know I’m coming, right?”

 A deep, monotone voice that’s smooth like butter spoke through the phone.

You almost roll your eyes, “I’m aware, Onyankopon. C’mon, boy. I’m getting sleepy.”

A deep chuckle fills your ear from through the phone, “I bet yo’ ass gon’ stay up for me though.”

You hear the elevator ding and a slow creak as the two metal doors begin to open, the phone and your hand slightly falling as you glance over to the tall figure entering your condo. He’s dressed in a sable jersey with cargo pants, the oversized top still able to show the silhouette of his muscular frame. The tattoos that litter across his arms pop under the lights of your home, silver chains along his neck that match with the watch on his wrist. He smells like a mixture of musk and tonka bean—his fro is sprawled around his head, jaw locked as mint gum is trapped in between his full dark pink lips. 

You sigh in reply to his words as you hang up the phone, “Imma’ do what I need to do to make my money, you know that.”

He shut the elevator doors behind himself, “I know your ass finna’ charge me extra for me being late,” he chuckled, walking towards the chair. He paused in his steps for a moment, eyes raking over your body, “What’s up, baby?”

Baby. It was a simple term of endearment he used, an accent prolific with that specific word. Your eyes run over him—the ink on his face, the goatee and facial hair along his jaw and cheeks, even with his hair sprawled everywhere— he still looked good. 

“Hey,” you give him a faint smile, “Was getting here okay? No paparazzi?” You tease. 

“Nah, not tonight, at least. They been on my ass though,” he huffed, “A nigga can’t even go get a carton of milk without somebody following me.”

“They’re just excited, Ony,” you give a soft laugh, reaching into your drawer of supplies as you pull out a rat tail comb, “Did you wash your hair already?”

He nodded to show you he had, sitting down on the forest green chair. You never understood how someone like him could be so intimidating, his gaze being enough to make you crumble on the spot.

On the other hand, sometimes he wondered if you knew what you looked like. Strawberry red hair falling in layers down your back, no middle or side part within the style—it just flowed wherever you went. Your army green baby tee and matching drawstring yoga pants that clung to your body, and you always scented bergamot with a milky vanilla. The cute way your black square glasses always tipped at your golden nose ring, it made you so— pretty. 

“Why are you in town anyways? You got’ a show or something?” You ask him, going over to your kitchen island, washing your hands of the previous grease and hair products used on your last client.

“Doing a lil’ sum’ at the Smoothie King center, nothing too crazy. I’m surprised you ain’t hear about that,” he glanced towards where you’d been, only able to see the back of your head along the mirror, “But you stay under the rock. I ain’t even gon’ hold you.”

You come up behind him as you shake your head, “I’m sorry. I ain’t mean it like that— I just hadn’t checked your socials since you texted me asking for an appointment,” you apologize, not trying to seem indifferent to his status, even if you knew he didn’t care about that.

His head tilted, his eyes narrowing as he looked at you with a small smile, “You always apologizing,” he muttered, reaching his hand into his pocket, “You needa’ stop doin’ that. I know you got me when I come here. I ain’t tripping on that.”

Your dark lashes flutter, your reflexes pushing your glasses closer up against your face as you feel your cheeks becoming warm. You instinctively dig your fingers into his scalp, pulling at the soft coils to assess his hair, “You’ still tender headed?”

He smacked his teeth before giving a small wince at the sting, “You’ don’t see me about to cry?” He glared, “You a pain,” he huffed, tilting his head to look back up at you, “Why you always tryna hurt a nigga?”

You roll your eyes, “Ony, please. It’s only been two months since you last saw me,” you stare blankly through the mirror, mentally preparing for the fight he always gave before you actually started.

“I don’t like you no more. You hate me. You tryna test me,” he began, going down a small list of your wrongdoings, “I’mma’ find another braider. You want me to feel pain.” 

He saw the look in your eyes, his large hands already gripping the handles of his seat. Every appointment was like this, and you knew it. He got comfortable around you—more than he should’ve—maybe it was because you grew up around each other in high school. He knew you—and you knew how to be patient with his ass.

You flip the rat tail comb in your fingers, “You need the teddy bear I give my babies that can’t handle getting their hair braided?” You raise an eyebrow, “You’ getting on my nerves already, boy.”

“I ain’t no damn boy,” He gave you a stern look—but it only got you to smirk. He grumbled under his breath, turning his head back towards the mirror, “Do yo’ thang.”

You begin parting his hair into six straight backs, PARTYNEXTDOOR 4 now playing each song throughout the album, humming quietly in the background. You were always efficient with your fingers, swapping product in between his scalp the millisecond after you parted. He was sensitive when it came to his head, but after about ten minutes, his jaw clenched as his eyes closed, relaxing under your touch. Sometimes he’d even fall asleep, and you’d just adjust to how he laid in that moment. 

You ask him, “You’ excited for the show?”

Though his eyes were closed, he nodded his answer, a low hum in his throat. You honestly loved when he got like this—his head would drop to the side, allowing you to braid easier. He trusted you. 

“They gon’ go crazy,” he mumbled, the corner of his lip lifting up in a smirk.

“I’m sure,” you muse, “The women love your big headed ass.”

“The niggas fuck with me too,” he smiled, opening an eye to look over at your reflection in the mirror, “You don’t like me?” 

You glance at his opened eyes through the mirror, still continuing to perfect the parting spaces in his head, envisioning the style as you softly reply, “I like you. You know that.”

He was always able to see the way you held back your smile, but his grin only widened as he looked at you. 

“I know yo’ ass love me,” he began, “All up in my hair, touchin’ me and shit.”

“Not too much,” you laugh, “I touch you cause you pay me to. Them’ girls outside would braid you’ up for free, I don’t play like that,” you smack your lips, “You’ seen your family since you been here?”

His grin faltered in the slightest, the question souring his mood. You’d grown to learn it was a sensitive subject—especially for a young man who wanted the world, but only had a couple people in his corner. You could see the way his facial features turned stern, Onyankopon chewing on the gum in his mouth before he opened his eyes, looking in the mirror to answer. 

“Yeah,” he muttered, “Spent some time with momma before she had to go to work. I got to visit my grandma for a little bit too. She always askin’ about you.”

“Bout’ me?” You raise an eyebrow, “I thought you ain’t tell nobody you came over here?” 

But that wasn’t what you really wanted to say. It made your face a bit warm to know he’d mentioned you to his family. So you clear your throat, knocking the warmth of your face away as you correct, “I ain’t know your mawmaw remembered me.”

“‘Course she remembered yo’ ass,” he grinned at the sight of you blushing—he always did manage to make you do that. 

“Always said you was built like a grown woman, pretty in the face. Real smart, she knew you’ was gon’ be somebody.”

“She’s sweet,” you giggle, “I’m sure she thought I was one of them’ fast tailed girls tryna get your attention.”

“She knew better than that. When did you ever try to get my attention?” He challenged, staring you in the eye. It was a question he’d always had on his mind, but the fact that it finally came from his mouth made the words almost feel tangible.

You think about the question for a moment, beginning to work on the braid closest to the shell of his ear. You pull his head back a bit to start at the root, your scent wafting along his face as you hum, “Mmm, I always thought you were cute. But you know you’re cute, you didn’t need another girl in line to tell you that. I wasn’t tryna’ be a groupie. But you always had a nice voice, and loved the spotlight. It was meant for you.”

He was a grown ass man—nearly nearing thirty, which had passed the age of embarrassment. But you could see the slight tinge on his cheeks, his ears flushing red for a moment before his mouth curved into a grin. 

“You like me, huh?” He raised a brow, looking down into his lap to hide the smile on his face. That’s when he noticed the time on his phone, glancing up into the mirror, “Damn,” he huffed, “I’m bout’ to be here all night wit’ you. You needa’ get faster.”

“If I go faster it’s gonna hurt,” you remind him, looping the hair in your fingers just a tad bit tighter, watching as he grimaced in response.

"Ayo!" He flinched, reaching back to try and pry your fingers off his head. You were quick to let go in response, but it proved your point. 

“You don’t got’ to pull like that…” he groaned.

“You gon’ let me do my job?” You raise an eyebrow, “You’ being irritating. I’m not the one who came over ten at night, Onyankopon. You’ got somewhere to be?”

He smacked his lips again, “I was just sayin’...“ 

In truth, he wasn't trying to leave your place immediately—he wanted to be around you. You always seemed to know exactly where to touch him. That, and your perfume always made his head spin.

"You gon' tell me who you dating, or you got a line of niggas?" He countered, his gaze meeting yours through the mirror.

“Nobody at the moment. I’ve been too busy with work,” you reply shyly, finishing up his first braid with a tight end, moving on to the second patch of hair, “My male clients usually have girlfriends—who want to be on the phone the entire time to watch me,” you chuckle.

“So that means you ain’t gon’ give me no love?” He grinned, reaching a hand behind him to press against your thigh, squeezing it gently. Your entire body shivered at his warm palm along your skin, the hand nearly wrapping against your entire leg. 

"A nigga just want to talk to you, be on you. You be’ all shy and shit," he grumbled, "Maybe I will find another braider for real, yo' ass stay bein' mean to me."

You giggle at his touch, even if it makes you nervous—maybe a little horny. You smacked his hand away, “So you flirt with all the people that work for you? That’s what I’m getting from this.” 

“Nah. Just you,” he replied without missing a beat, a confident smile on his face. “C’mon, say somethin’.”

You didn’t even need to look into the mirror to know he was staring at you—that alone made your insides twist. 

A loud sigh left your lips as you shook your head, “You’re gonna mess around and get yo’ feelings hurt. I’m just doing your hair, Onyankopon. You’ll have thousands of girls to choose from at your show tomorrow.”

“We ain’t talking about them. We talkin’ about you.”

He wanted you to look at him. But he knew you wouldn’t do such a thing until you finished his hair. 

So he relented, pulling out his phone to check his messages—there wasn’t much to see, though. A silence had become between the two of you, comforted by the music playing in the back. His fans had been bombarding his team for the past few days, ever since the news of his new album came out. And, sure, he’d be surrounded by girls tomorrow. But those girls weren’t going to be you.

“You gon’ be at my show since you know about it now, right?”

You were now on the fourth braid, pulling his head back a bit to look at his face. Your eyes narrow, almost having the urge to roll them as you say, “You know I don’t have a ticket, Ony. I’ll watch it after it’s posted.”

He looked up to see the scowl on your face, a laugh escaping his lips, “Don’t even worry about all that. I don’t want you watchin’. I need you there.” 

When you reach out to knock the side of his head, he catches your wrist, bringing it to his lips to plant a sloppy kiss there. Your heart hammered beneath your chest, an unsteady thump resounding through your ribcage.

“You smoked before you got here?” You question, “You’ real touchy—feely today.”

He grinned in reply, “Nah I didn’t, maybe you’ just real fine today. Every day.”

He was laying it on thick. The worst part? That it might’ve been working. You’re now on the final braid, your body unfortunately hot, and a throb between your legs at the sight of him. He was murmuring the music to himself, his deep voice now ringing in your ears.

“You want me to line you up after I’m done braiding, or are you gonna do it yourself? I bought new clippers,” you ask softly, fingers swiftly pulling his hair into a neat bind.

He looked at your reflection, watching as your fingers moved swiftly through his hair. The feeling was pleasant, the sound of your voice even more so. 

“You always do it fine, so yeah,” he murmured. 

The next time you’d reach for his hair, he’d stop you—his hand cupping your wrist to bring it down to his chest. 

“I appreciate you, you know that right?” His voice was low, but you could still hear the sincerity beneath his words. He was staring at you now, his eyes warm.

You blink a bit at his words, and the sincerity makes you smile innocently. 

“I know that,” you nod, “I’m glad you trust me enough to keep coming back.”

His free hand came to cup the side of your cheek, feeling your soft skin beneath his tough palm, "You got some soft skin," he murmured as he stroked your cheek. His thumb lightly brushed your lips, "Pretty lips too, y'know that?"

Your heart is hammering in your chest at this point. He’s fine, full lips moisturized, goatee and facial hair aligned perfectly along his face, jaw structure deadly for him to have his hair braided back. His brown skin was clear—fucking hell. 

You give a nervous laugh as you try to pull yourself back, “…You’ still got one more braid, Ony.”

"You sure you wanna keep going?" He questioned, "You lookin' like you want something else right now."

Your mouth parts a bit at his words, but quickly closes as you try to figure out your reply. You then say, “Yeah, I’m almost finished. I know you’re getting antsy in my chair,” you pull yourself back behind him, quickly maneuvering into finishing off his final braid.

He had to give it to you—you were hard to crack. But that didn’t mean you were good at hiding it. You watch his face become more serious than you’d ever seen, it’s a mixture of something—admiration, lust, need. 

"Yeah, aight. Line my shit up. We gon’ talk.”

You can feel your nerves bundling at the pit of your stomach as you finish off—a tension now palpable in the air. Clippers buzz along his hairline as you lean yourself  close to his chest to get a good angle, your body feeling warm as you’re close to him—you adjust yourself as you softly say, “…Sorry.”

“Nah, you good. Come closer,” is what he says instead, reaching a hand out to grasp your thigh. He grips you gently, but firmly, to get you closer to him. You’re in between his legs now, which he spreads a bit further so you can settle in.

Your hands are trembling. You usually had no issues with this part of your service, but the tension was becoming heavier second by second. You exhale a bit, breathless in your nervous giggle as you confirm, “I’m gonna put some oil on once I’m done—loosen up your braids a bit, okay?”

“Take your time,” he murmurs, voice smooth and low. 

Slowly but surely, he begins to rub his hand back and forth against your thigh. Eventually, it begins to move towards the inside of your thigh, rubbing at the flesh there. You bite your lip, trying to fight back the desire to whimper. 

“You’ quiet now, what’s up with that?”

He’s really getting to you. The simple touch makes your eyes want to roll back. You admit, “Just tryna’ focus while you’re being distracting.”

“I ain’t done nothin’ but rub on you, you’ really that sensitive?”

His lips brush the side of your ear, his warm breath tickling your neck. “How I look, mama?”

You wanna pull back from him, but you’re unable to. You quickly snatch the clippers back as you sit them on the small table beside the chair, giving him a warning look as you caution, “Ony.”

“Why you sayin’ my name like that?” he grunts, fingers gripping the back of your thigh, holding you there. 

“C’mere—Lemme’ taste you.”

You breath hitches at his words, and your mouth is only centimeters from his. Your hand finds its way to the fabric of his shirt, gripping the cotton fiber as your voice is weak, “C’mon, Ony. Stop playing.”

His eyes are hooded at this point, “Who playin’?” 

His mouth captures your bottom lip, slowly dragging it between his teeth. You actually whimper at the feeling, your thighs squeezing together beneath your shorts. Pulling you fully onto his lap, he kisses you, not letting you pull away as he cups the back of your head to keep you there. His tongue is rough inside of your mouth, a satisfying hum heavy against your lips as he makes out with you.

You’re shuddering against his mouth, a frown pulled at your eyebrows at how good his kiss is. It makes your entire body thrum, clutching the material of his shirt even tighter. It’s like you’re having an orgasm—all he’d done was kiss you. 

The heat of his skin, the smell of his cologne is all intoxicating. He’s pulling your head back so that he can kiss your throat. His lips are smooth as he’s sucking the skin—your body feels like jelly. 

Your hand clutches the side of his neck, “W—Wait Ony…mmph,” ” you pant. 

When his mouth comes back down to meet yours, he kisses you deeper, groaning into your mouth. You attempt to keep him in one place, but you know you don't have the strength to keep him from having his way with you.

You gasp softly as he tugs up your baby tee, brown nipples dropping straight into his mouth the moment he drags his tongue out to catch them. Your eyes lock down to the way his mouth moves—it’s effortless. 

You’re latching along his hair, trembling above him as you suck air down your throat, “T—They’re s—sensitive…” he’s lapping your breast into his mouth, your skin becoming hot on his taste buds.

“Got a nigga acting greedy as fuck.” 

He’s almost mad at the sight, sucking harshly and letting your nipples drop out his mouth, milliseconds later catching your entire breast back in between his full lips. The skin is starting to bruise, your legs squeezing against his lap as a deep relaxation comes over you, a warming tingle in your spine.

You were writhing on top of him, your hands gripping his shoulders tightly as he sucked and nibbled on your nipples— you’re trembling, “Oh god... oh fuck..." you’re panting as if you’d run a marathon, biting your lip as you felt yourself growing wetter and wetter between your legs, “Don’t…stop…”

His mouth was almost aggressive at this point, a loud popping sound leaving his lips each time he pulled away. The music within the room is dousing your brain. 

His voice was low and raspy, "You look’ soooo muhfuckin' sexy right now. Take all this shit off. Need you naked as fuck.” 

He reaches down between the both of you, pressing his palm against the front of your shorts, the contact making you whimper as he groans, “Ooh shit, pussy drenching them shorts—I know that shit glistening all pretty. Nasty ass bitch,” The heat continuously develops in between your legs, wetness creating more and more by the second. 

He starts rubbing his hand against you, back and forth, the heel of his hand grinding against your clit. It’s making your head spin, your hips move with his hand, whining softly as he starts kissing you again, lips soft against yours, sucking your bottom lip between his teeth.

Dark brown eyes stare into yours, his expression serious—intense. You jump as he slams his palm down on your ass, grunting, “Up,” your body complying as you stand halfway above him to remove your shorts, allowing your top to quickly follow— you’re now completely naked on his lap.

He’s nothing like you had before. With that, he dips his hands in between your legs to pull you back up in a standing position against the chair, palms locked against the back of your thighs as he scoots himself lower, tugging your body down so quickly that your entire pussy rubs against his jaw. 

A mixture between a deep chuckle and groan comes from his mouth as he’s already running his tongue chaotically against your clit. Your lower lip drops open as you gasp, pressing yourself into his arm to not fall, riding his face within the air.

His mouth was a mess as he grinds you down on his tongue, so deep in between your folds that he’s tasting himself. His tongue was strong, heavy, eyes closed as if your body was a rarity. Onyankopon’s facial hair was coated, dripping against your thighs as he eats you out. He was being lazy with it, almost too comfortable within the chair, hands digging into the back of your thighs as he forced himself deeper, nose pushing against your mound. He was choking on your pussy—but he was enjoying every single bit of it.

“Oh— my g—god!” you pant out, gasping in between, “Ony…ohshi—Ony!…” he’s bouncing you against his face, using his free hand to spank the skin of your ass, flesh shaking in his palm. You’re losing nerves in your brain, dropping your face down as you whimper, “You’ in my pussy, baby…fuck…”

“‘Could tell you ain’t never had a nigga eat you like this—shit a muhfuckin’ delicacy, I’m just slurping this shit the fuck up—fuckin’ love this shit," he said, moaning it, slurping, slurping, his voice was almost like a murmur, "Fuckkk, imma’ have you squirting on this big ass dick."

Onyankopon was growling against your clit, a wet noise coming from his lips as he sucked on you, his mouth covered at this point. His hands were grabbing at your thighs, spreading them apart so he could see your juices rolling down the skin.

There was a rhythm to it—his mouth moved like a metronome as if he were making a song, a steady beat as he eats you out.

He was almost high from the taste, his mouth watering as he lapped up everything you were giving him. His chin was daubed, tongue flicking up to catch a bit of the spit as he was using it to lubricate your pussy, trying to make it easier for his tongue to slide inside. Again, again. 

His tongue is long, rolling around from the bottom of your entrance all the way up to your clit. He's eating you like he loves you, mouth open, tongue sloppy, just groaning,  licking—you’re feeling faint. 

He was making a mess of your pussy. 

Your eyes are rolling at this point, a discomfort beginning to form in your legs from the way you’re hovered above him. But it’s all so good—you’re spinning. Shaking. Trembling. All of the above. 

“Ony….I t—think I’m cumming,” you softly cry, beginning to rotate your hips in a circle along his face as you weakly whine, grasping a hold of his hair as you whimper, “I—I’m c—cumming…”  

“I hear that gushy ass pussy, that bitch singing to me.” 

At that second—you hear yourself gush against his face, squeezing your thighs against his head, body shuddering like a harsh chill had taken a marathon against your spine. You’re robbed of time to come down from the orgasm, Onyankopon pulling you back down to sit along his lap as he grunts, “Come pull this dick out.”

You whimper in response, dipping your fingers into his pants nonetheless. Your acrylics graze against the hefty weight of his tip you feel for—and it’s big. 

You’re pulling, pulling for more than two seconds, watching as it slaps a little over his belly button. Dark pink, a beautiful brown matching his complexion. Your eyes widen a bit, the gasp your throat that wanted to release now caught in his palm as he’s holding you by your neck. 

He tugs you forward, “Spit in my fuckin’ mouth.”

He’s nasty. You pull him into a sloppy kiss, letting your saliva run against the tip of your tongue, meeting with his mouth that makes him glare at you, “Freaky ass lil’ bitch, huh? I’m finna’ do you in witcho’ pretty ass. Come sit on this shit.” 

“Too big, Ony…” you whimpered before you thought about your words, knowing he was already arrogant. 

And you weren’t wrong for thinking that. His mouth twists in amusement against the shell of your ear, hand rubbing along the curve of your ass before smacking it, “You either gon’ bend over so I can watch my dick go in and out this pretty ass pussy, or sit that shit on me.”

Your eyes glance back down—his dick was standing straight up, swollen at the tip, thick veins running across the shaft, and a toned belly for you to grip onto. But you knew he wasn’t repeating himself. 

He murmurs, “Go slow, baby. I got you,” easing your anxiety, moving his hand around to the back of your neck, pulling you into the softest kiss he’d given you this entire time.

You adjusted your hips as you rubbed his tip along your folds throughout the kiss, mouth falling open as you whimpered again, his throat humming, nodding gently for you to continue. Your folds stretch apart as you begin sinking down, keeping yourself kissing him to distract from the immediate discomfort you feel. You pull your mouth back slightly to press your forehead against his, also holding the back of his neck as your breathing becomes chaotic, chest heaving a bit as you whisper, “…Oh my…” you suck in a breath, “goddd…” you drag your words so lowly, and he hears every syllable.

“Yeah?” He grunts, “Why you’ squeezing’ my shit like that?” 

He’s cooing to you. His balls slap lightly against the weight of your ass, hearing the slick of your pussy as he pulls you back up. Onyankopon dips his fingers into your mouth, coating them before he lowers his hand to massage your bruised walls for a millisecond, making it easier to push his dick back in.

He helps ease you back down, fingers rubbing at the back of your hips as he drops you fully down his length. Your eyes clamped shut as you cried out, eyes rolling as you dragged out a whine, “Onyyy…” all while he sucked on the spot between your neck and collarbone, moaning into it to keep you open. 

You pull your face back to meet him, keeping your foreheads connected as he begins raising you halfway up, dragging you back down, dick disappearing between your thighs. Your arousal is splattering in between your skin stuck together, ripping apart each time you’re pulled back up, clapping as you come back down.

“This all you needed, needed this pussy played with. Shit pretty as fuck. Makin’ art on my dick.” 

He was getting used to the rhythm, leaning his head back against the seat to look at you. His hands were planted on the back of your thighs, the muscles rippling as he helped pull you back up before slamming you back down, his mouth open, eyes half-lidded.

He was watching you—The way you were crying out, the way you were cursing him out, the way you were begging for more, and the way you were fighting for breath.

He was watching it all—taking it all in. You were perfect. 

Each time you protested, “Babyyyy,” he tugged you down harder, the pressure rubbing against your pussy, the warmth of it making you shudder. He’s talking, “I hear you, Mama. Fuck, you drenching my shit.” 

His hands were firm against your hips, helping to guide you up and down. He was almost wrestling you, a dominant nature he had coming out the longer he fucked you. Your ass is applauding against his thighs, breasts bouncing, your mouth releasing breathless sounds you’d never heard before. It makes you feel like those final nerves within your brain were no more, wrapping your arms around his neck as you let him take you—pouting as you talk to him, “This your pussy baby…” you whine, softly crying, mewling the words to him. You’re making promises.

“That’s how you feelin’?”

He slides his palm against your asscheek, gripping the skin there as he moves his index finger over your hole, the feeling making you tense. You lean yourself forward a bit as he’s nudging the tip of it into you, using the rest of his fingers to keep you bouncing down. You whimper deeply, the pleasure and pain knocking you every which way as he’s filling you up in both places—he was trying to kill you.

Nonetheless, you keep yapping, “Your fuckin’ pussy, Daddy…gonna come to your show…”

You drag your tongue along his neck, sucking there petulantly as you look down, seeing as you cream on his length, coating the shaft white. You’re so horny, even if he was fucking you at this exact moment.

“No you not. Finna’ be sleep all day after this,” he grunts, “You creamin’ on my shit. Pretty as fuck.”

His hand wraps around the back of your neck to pull you down for another heated kiss, sucking the taste of yourself off your tongue. His other hand held you by the hip, moving you faster, finger thrusting in your hole deeper.

He’s strong—in lost time, he stands from the chair as he places your legs over his shoulders, taking a step forward to place you right along the mirror you used to show your clients their finished hairstyle. He was tugging at your neck, making sure you were locked in his arms as he began dropping you on his dick, making you squeal, a moan spilling from your lips as you whine, "Oh shittttt.” 

“Look at you, fuckin’ bad girl. Yeah, look at me, look at you, look at that shit gushing for me.”

He was pounding you from the bottom, his balls slapping between your folds, your arousal making the sound reverberate through the room. A feeling you never felt before surrounded your aura, a pleasure so good that you felt emotional, your eyes beginning to form tears as you suck in a breath, releasing as you sobbed, “Ugnh, fuck.”

He’s fucking you so hard that the mirror across began steaming up, showing only a faint outline of your body. You flick over to it, seeing the strawberry tresses of your hair sticking to your face, your expression ruined. 

Your mouth was dangerous as you writhed, “Ony,” a way that was close to a shout, talking through each thrust, “Love. This. Dick. Baby…”

His mouth came to yours to stifle the sounds, hand clamped around the back of your neck. His teeth were scraping your lips, his tongue slipping inside to fight yours as he’s pounding you in place, the sensation making you shake.

"You gon' cum? Gonna squirt all over his dick? Pussy gettin’ tight as fuck…damn…” he groans, locking his eyes down to see himself go in and out, in and out, in…and out.

“Gonna squirt all over you,” you sniffle in a small gasp, unaware of your own mouth at this moment, “Harder—please…” 

His mouth was a mess, tongue thick and long, lapping against your neck and collarbone, sucking the skin there, his mouth wide open, slurping the taste of you up. He squeezed your hips so hard that you were crying out. He was slamming himself into you, a groan of pleasure spilling from his lips as he buried his face against your throat, sucking it up as he grunted, “Finna’ have you at every fuckin’ show. Up in the private rooms, gon’ fuck you after every song.”

You’re gone, becoming entirely silent as your eyes are filled with tears that wouldn’t stop, nodding your head to every word as you hold onto him. The silence, listening to the sounds of your skin coming together in music, a sound rips from your throat before you could realize—pure bliss, a scream projecting out as you squirt, the arousal spouting, pushing him far enough for his tip to now be halfway in. Your body feels exhausted, eyes back into staring inside your head as you cum. 

And it broke him, he was moaning into your throat—mouth open, eyes closed, pulling himself out as his tip rubbed against your inner thigh, cumming against the warm skin. Your body was tired, exhausted, satisfied. 

You struggled to keep yourself wrapped along his neck. As the both of you caught your breath, you brought your eyes up to him, using the last bit of strength you had to give him a soft peck against his lips. Onyankopon couldn’t help himself—You looked so pretty at this moment, yet the innocent kiss makes him chuckle lowly, holding you up more as he questions, “You aight’?”

You press your face within his neck as you murmur, “Mhm,” your eyes feeling heavy, “Don’t think imma’ make your show, Ony…” you pout sleepily.

He laughs at how cute you were being—it’s a stark difference from your usual reserved demeanor. 

“It’s straight, baby. You’ll be on my mind the moment I get there—that’s fasho.’” 

He pecks your forehead, “You want me to stay tonight?”

Your eyes won’t open at this point. You could figure out the meaning of this moment later. You just wanted to be wrapped in that damn scent of his—tonka bean.

“If you’ actually plan on sleeping, you can stay…” 

“Damn, no late night nookie?” 

“Onyankopon.”

“My fault. Night, shawty.”

[y3sterdaysproblem]

𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙥𝙖𝙣𝙮 - 𝙛𝙬𝙗!𝙘𝙝𝙧𝙞𝙨

cw: mentions of smoking, smut

wc: 2.5k

“you want food first?” chris asks, turning his head to look at you where you sat in his passenger seat for a moment before returning his eyes to the road.

“before I ride you?” you question, your own head popping up from looking at your phone to stare at his side profile, eyes trailing over his seemingly flawless jawline, the pout of his lips, his nose that fit his face perfectly. “fuck no, I wanna smoke, park, fuck, then you buy me food once we get snacky.”

chris let out a laugh, straight line of teeth visible from behind his lips. “okay,” he agreed with a small nod, pointing to his glove compartment. “brought you something.”

you tilt your head curiously, turning your attention to his glovebox, hand reaching out to open it. once it drops open, you let out a small gasp and grab the thin, long box wrapped with a little red bow. “what is this?” you say excitedly, pulling it into your lap, quickly pulling the bow undone.

chris peeks over at you one more time, a smile still present on his face. “just open it, dumbass.”

you listen, popping the lid off the box and gasping again, letting out a small squeal when you see what’s inside. “a new cart?!” you ask, looking back up at him to see him already watching, car stopped at a red light.

“yeah, it’s a hybrid, too,” he informs you, nodding his head towards it. “figured we could smoke that tonight.”

you grin and reach forward to pinch his cheek, shaking it aggressively to which he groaned and pushed your hand away from him. “you know me so well,” you beam, bringing your attention back to the cart, pulling it out of the box and clicking the little square button five times, watching as the little light turns on to indicate it’s ready.

“I know,” chris shrugs, starting to drive again. he’s headed towards a spot you guys have parked at a couple times, a secluded area tucked into a forest preserve that nobody really showed up at anymore, ignoring the fact that it was closed past sunset.

it doesn’t take long for you guys to get there, but despite the little time between opening the new cart and getting to your spot, you both have hit it enough times to start feeling the effects, your eyes getting heavy and body feeling lighter. “chris,” you say through a small giggle as you guys are parking, turning your body to face him in your seat.

“yeah?” he responds, throwing the car into park and pulling off his seatbelt, turning to look at you as well. your grin only widened as his attention fell on you, feeling nothing but confident under his gaze. “you are so hot,” you tell him, eyes wandering over his all black outfit, soaking in his appearance.

“y’think so?” chris says with a smirk, leaning back in his chair, his hand coming down to the side of it to mess with the buttons, starting to move himself backwards, farther away from the steering wheel. “wanna show me how hot you think I am?”

you nod slightly, pulling your own seatbelt off and climbing over to sit atop his thighs, resting comfortably in his lap as your hands came up to thread through his hair. “you’re already hard,” you mumble, eyes scanning over his face as he stared up at you through hooded, lust fill eyes. “yeah, because I can’t stop thinking about you on top of me,” chris responds, his hands landing on your thighs where they pushed your dress up slightly. “a sun dress is kind of a crazy choice.”

you laugh and nod slightly in agreement, moving your hips on top of his slightly. “I know, it’s a little cold but I wanted you to have easy access.” you reach down to prove your point, pulling the dress up over your stomach to reveal your lack of underwear, hearing chris’s breath catch in his throat.

“fuck, you’ve been in my car with no underwear all this time?” he asks, instantly bringing his hand between your legs and dragging his middle fingers between your folds, fascinated by the sight in front of him. “would’ve had you touching yourself this whole time if I knew.”

you laugh softly and grab his jaw to tilt his head up, meeting his eyes again. “i’m already gonna do all the work right now, wanted to save my energy,” you say teasingly, leaning down to close the distance between you two, pressing your lips firmly against chris’s. he immediately returned the kiss, his fingertips pressing into the skin of your thighs where they rested, other hand still touching you where you needed him the most, spreading your folds apart and pressing into your clit, eliciting a small whine that slipped through your nostrils.

both of your lips part and your tongues meet in the middle, dancing together as he pressed his fingers inside of you, letting out his own groan as he felt how wet you were. “what’s got you all wet for me, hm?” chris asks lowly, pulling away from your lips for a moment. you’re annoyed at the lack of content, but that feeling is quickly washed away when his fingers curl inside of you, pulling out another small noise from your mouth. “you,” you respond breathily, hips grinding down on chris’s hand slowly. “thinking about you.”

chris smiles lazily up at you, keeping his eyes focused on your face that was slightly above his. “me?” he implores, raising an eyebrow. “what about me?”

he’s starting to slowly fuck you with his fingers, making you more and more breathless by the seconds passing, eyelids threatening to flutter shut. “this. you inside me in any way. told you, just looking at you gets me so horny.” you’re whining now, desperate for more friction, practically riding his fingers as they pressed up against your walls. you let go of your dress and reach down to grab the waistband of his sweatpants, tugging to let him know what you want, and he quickly obliged and raises his hips for you to pull them down just to his thighs, along with his briefs, revealing his hard cock, desperate for its own attention. “can I?” you ask him, ripping your gaze from his lap to his eyes, seeing how glazed over they were.

he nods, pulling his fingers from inside you and instead rubbing circles on your clit as you moved your knees slightly to position yourself above him, slowly sinking down on him. “shit,” you gasp, feeling blissed out from him inside you and stimulating you with his fingers. “you fill me up so good.”

“yeah?” chris hums, pulling his hand away and using both to push up your dress again, bunching it over your hips for a clear view of how well you were taking him. “tell me more.”

you laugh, shaking your head at his attempt to get you to feed into his ego. “you’re so conceited,” you comment, leaning forward to press your lips together again, this time in a slower, drawn out kiss, tongues moving together as if you have all the time in the world. his hand comes up to cup your jaw and hold you close, his touch sending a shiver down your spine as you feel the wetness of his fingers on your skin, loving the way he couldn’t keep his hands off of you.

your hips still moved up and down, slow and sensual like you had promised him in the texts, soft r&b floating through his speakers in the background, only intensifying the mood in the car. it was hard to admit to yourself, and you’d never say it out loud, but sometimes being with chris felt like the world around you both had disappeared and you were the only two in existence, using each other’s bodies for your own pleasure. tonight felt no different, the way he held onto your face to keep you close, his other hand rubbing from your waist to your hip as you moved on top of him, his touch saying everything he couldn’t with his mouth pressed against yours.

you pull away from him slightly, both of your hands resting on either side of his neck, foreheads pressed together as your breath mingles between your faces, the pace of your hips slowing slightly as you look down at chris’s expression, a small smile lighting up your face. “you look good like this,” you whisper, catching his attention. “like what?” he asks in the same volume, using his hand that’s already on your face to push some hair behind your ear before resting back on your jaw again. “like this,” you say, nodding slightly. “relaxed, sitting back and letting me do all the work. holding me and making me feel all wanted and shit.”

chris lets out a small, quiet laugh and rolls his eyes, sliding his left hand around to squeeze your ass roughly. “shut up and keep doing what you’re best at, yeah? y’talk too much.”

you scoff and return the eye roll, but you pick up your hips nonetheless, rocking against him again. you switch your position slightly and lean back against the steering wheel, careful to not lean on the horn, placing one hand on the door and the other on his knee, head falling back slightly at the change in angle, giving chris a perfect view of your chest up to your throat. he’s unable to resist the temptation, his hands reaching up to pull the top of your dress down, exposing your tits to him, nipples hard from arousal. “fuuuck,” he groans at the sight, taking in your whole figure; your thighs straining on either side of him, his cock sliding in and out of you as you bounced on top of him, stomach tensing as your hips moved, tits bouncing perfectly with the action. “this is what you were made for, hm? made to take me whenever I want you. god, I wish you could see yourself.” he’s running his hands all over your body as he speaks, finally landing on your waist to help you with your movements, sensing your legs tiring out.

you pull your head back up and look down your body, watching as he disappears inside of you over and over, feeling overwhelmed at the sight. “you fill me up so well, chris, gonna make me cum,” you whine, pushing yourself back up so your chests are almost pressed together again, grabbing onto his shoulders tightly as your pace picked up, feeling your orgasm approaching. he trails his fingers back down to touch you again, pulling a string of whimpers from your lips as he helped you, the sounds of both of your moans filling the car.

“that’s it,” he praises, still circling around your clit as your body shakes, fingers digging into his skin roughly as your orgasm crashes down on you, eyes clenched shut tight. you tuck your face into his neck as you slow down, hips twitching as chris’s fingers coax you through the end of it.

“my god,” you sigh into his skin, chest heaving as you try to catch your breath. your senses are overwhelmed with his cologne, a scent you’ve grown too familiar with over the past who knows how long, one that makes your heart leap when it floods your nose.

you take a few moments to relax, breathing leveling out into his neck, before you start to move again, pulling almost all the way off of him before dropping down again. he groans at the feeling, letting his eyes flutter shut and his head fall back against the headrest, focusing his mind on the way you felt around him. “you fill me up so well,” you whisper into his skin, starting to place small kisses along it, feeling goosebumps arising under your lips at the touch. “so big inside me, stretching me out so nice.” you’re feeding into his size kink to bring him closer, smiling against him as you hear a small whine leave his lips, his hands digging into your hips roughly.

“that’s it, just focus on how good i’m making you feel,” you hum, teeth nipping at his skin. leaving marks was something you both were typically against, as you were each sleeping with different people, but you always knew when he’d let you do it, and it was when he was so close, teetering on the edge of completion when he would fully surrender his body to you, let you do whatever you wanted as he creeped closer and closer. you suckled on his skin softly, but hard enough to leave a red-purple bruise on his pale skin, smiling when you pulled away and laid your eyes on it. “gonna cum for me, chris?” you ask, sitting straight up and picking up your pace, dropping your hips back onto his roughly.

“mmhmmm,” chris nods his head, keeping his eyes shut as his mouth slowly opened, teeth clenching together and sucking air through them as his eyebrows furrowed, letting you know he was close.

“cum inside me, please, chris, I need it so bad,” you whine, turning up the dramatics for his own pride, hands resting on his chest for leverage as you rode him, letting small moans and whimpers leave your mouth.

“fuck, i’m-, oh my god,” chris stutters, fingers gripping into your skin with a bruising pressure, his back pushing off the seat slightly as he groaned loudly, dick twitching inside you as he came, small whimpers slipping out with each breath, his head coming forward to rest on your bare chest. “jesus christ,” he croaks out, wrapping his arms around your waist lazily to hold you close.

you smile and press your face into his hair, hands trailing around to his back. “dunno bout you but that sounded like whimpers to me,” you say quietly, a teasing lilt in your voice.

chris groans and lands a playful, although harsh, slap on your ass, making you gasp loudly. “I do not whimper,” he mumbles into the skin on your chest, lips pressing against your cleavage, moving them to the side slightly to nip at the skin of your breast.

“ouch,” you grab him by the hair and pull him away, making him tilt his head back and look up at you, revealing his fucked out smile that spread from ear to ear. “fuck, you’re hot,” you comment, leaning down to press your lips against his roughly, groaning when his hand came up to your throat to hold you in place.

you’re kissing for a few minutes, basking in the post sex relaxation in each other’s company, chris still nestled inside you as his free hand ran over your body. he pulls his face away and uses his grip on you to push you away from him slightly, smirking at your dazed expression. “get off of me before I charge up again. i’m hungry.” he tells you, letting go of your throat, making you pout.

“I got something you can eat,” you say, moving your hips slightly.

“shut the fuck up,” chris laughs, pushing you off of him with faux aggression, unable to stop himself from admiring the way your giggles filled the space.

a/n: hey

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