will die on this hill. the dad best friend fanfics that go into detail about how they have known you since your were 4 are disgusting and borderline disturbing. like your talking about having sex with a girl you literally watched grow up. ew. it’s creepy. like… no.
Hi everyone!! Happy Holidays to all!! I wanted to do a Christmas Event since I’ll have some time during the break after school work!!
I’m going back to my roots and making a fun Google Form!!
What that means is I came up with some sexy prompts and some characters that I think fit well with the prompt!!
You can vote for the character you want, which is tied to the prompt!! You can vote as much as you want, and you can vote for all 12 days or just a few days!!
Minors and Ageless blogs DO NOT INTERACT
Voting Closes on December 12th!!
I want to gift you guys with some fun, sexy fics for the holidays hehe <3
happy black history month to my fellow black baddies! remember our ancestors fought so hard for us to be where we are at today! stay black & proud! ❤️🖤💚
I've decided for the time being that these will all be FREE. I'll make a new sheet with the update maybe but for now this should do! So if there's a style you like, go ahead and plop in a request :3 any of my socials will do, or you can email me if you prefer
✧ ⁺˳ cw. fem! reader. husband nanami, whiney nanami, brēeding, cowgirl, mdni. adding to this
riding nanami so good that it makes him want to propose. focusing his weight purely on his rocking chair, the continuous creaks sing as you’re rutting back and forth. “s- sweetheart,” he slurs in a dreamy tune, a baritone-like rasp falling on his words. one hand of his grips toward your waist, tracing a thumb against the pretty curvature of your torso. whining yourself, you lean in toward his neck to bury your face near the crook, but he makes you collapse back. “no, no. don’t hide from me, wanna see those eyes,” and as gentle, mahogany irises meet your own, he groans. “good girl, my good girl. jus’ keep lookin’ at me, yeah.”
“kennnn,” you whimper, the repetitive dragging of your hips scratching a bittersweet carnal itch near the insides of your brain. his body heat was scorching hot, you thought you were gonna melt. the insatiable skin slapping against skin makes you deliriously numb, you want more. with your loose jaw hanging itself open, drooping—you lean in to lick a stripe up his neck. “fuck, ‘s good. mhm,” and each time you slam back and forth against him, he kisses his teeth. nanami’s sweating profusely, he barely even notices though because his entire attention’s focused on you. his pretty girl. although, the moment you start to dip your hips in a deep circular rotation, he tosses his head back.
“fuckin’ s- shittt,” he swears, and even his curses sounded so blissful . . sinful. for the first time in forever, nanami whines. the palm of his hand then closes in on your ass to give it a good firm squeeze. with fawn strands covering his eyes, he starts to shake. with his hefty chest heaving and a needy tone pouring from his voice, his gaze meets yours once more. “marry me, m- marry me, i need you to be my wife, please.”
an eyebrow of yours quirk upward at his words as a smile pierces its way against your spit-slicked lips. you throw your arms over his broad shoulders before giving him a sweet reply.
“hm?” and your hips had him going insane—the tempo, it was just right. not too fast nor too slow. the centers of your jittery knees bury itself into the sides of the chair before you whisper into his ear. “did you forget, baby? ‘m already your wife.”
nanami moans, your voice was enough to make him spasm right then and there—you sounded so sweet but your insides felt even sweeter.
your sloppy cunt grips against him tight like a vice, simply clinging onto him for dear life. within each pull and bounce against his lap, your walls were so gummy and goopy. it was just tantalizing. you were nothing but a tease and he only craved for more as each second passes.
taking in every inch of his thick cock, you hold back a noise yourself. digging the edges of your teeth into your bottom lip to suppress an incoming squeal, you kiss his neck — it was slow, you create a soft trail of butterflies with your lips. marking his neck with your own wings that press against your mouth.
“hah, oh . . are we?” he responds, panting. with a hand still glued to your hip like it’s made of adhesive, his eyes meets his ring finger. you and him were definitely still married. he groans, feeling a lump in his throat equivalent to the size of a saucer. “ah, forgive me sweetheart. ‘m sorry, y- your hips are just so..”
he doesn’t even bother trying to finish his trembling sentence before his cock kisses up against your g-spot once more. not just an ordinary kiss though, a french kiss.
it’s sloppy, passionate, and exquisitely thorough.
tangled fingers of yours claw at his cerulean blue dress collar. with cobwebs and cobwebs of slick saliva sloshing against each mouth — he huffs, shivering from your hands to roam further down his work shirt he wore. nanami was sexily slouched back, two thighs spread open for you with a single leg bouncing up and down in anticipation.
oh, he was close. his base sags and hangs as you’re rutting against him quicker and quicker. with a nice amount of fingers scraping through his hair and toying your fingertips with his scalp, you dip your tongue further into his mouth. “m- my love,” he purrs, and you don’t think you’ve ever heard him so whiney. his voice was melodic at most, each breaking syllable making the throbbing between your legs intensify. “don’t stop, please—i love you, i love you.”
“i love you too ‘ken,” you babble, feeling the elastic stretch curve and pull through your walls.
your lips part and you moan before feeling him hold your waist tight. nanami groans against your ear and it’s so low that it was almost a mere growl. it could have easily been mistaken as a growl with the raspiness in his voice. with your knees continuing to plow deeper into the chair, bouncing back and forth, he spanks you, again, and again, and again.
nanami’s about to come, you know once his prettily blown irises roll wayyy back until he’s seeing white and his thin brows curl into a proper furrow.
each sloppy bounce against his lap punctuates so good that he’s barely able to hold his moans back by now. you had him hooked. his faint poking dimples press together as he tries to speak, but instead of words, another dragging whine escapes. leaning up against his ear, your warm breath tickles his lobe. “c’mon, kento. cum in me, ‘s okay. make a mess in me, baby.”
“f- fuck, lee talk to me just like that, sweetheart ‘n i might,” he replies back in a shaky tone, feeling a chill reside up his spine.
your cunt’s addictive warmth was preparing to milk him for all that he’s worth. as he clenches down on his jaw for the umpteenth time, his grip against your waist tightens. “ugh, ‘s gonna be so much. so much for you, my sweet l- love,” and as he’s rambling, a thick load abruptly shoots into your core, dribbling into your womb. it’s hot, and when it rains it pours. nanami swallows thickly, the same lump that lived in his throat was now forming into a ball. your hips steadily slow down and you glance down to see the lewd mess emitting deeply into you. it’s so much—it’s velvety, creamy ropes of cum that quickly fill you up to the very top. as his tip spits such sloppy amounts of seed into your starved cunt, he bites his lip. “oh, ‘s still comin’ out. forgive me, ‘m givin’ you all of me, princess.”
with a soft smile, you kiss near the crevice of his mouth where a tiny crinkle caresses and marinates against his soft features. “don’t apologize for being dirty, ken. ‘s okay.” and his face softens at your words. nanami feels his body shudder with heat from how gentle you were with him.
you’re clinging onto him dry and he’s still pumping you full of ridiculous inches—featuring his beloved, syrupy textured cum. it’s a whopping amount that he could barely process how much he’s gifted to you until he actually looks down. the moment chest deflates, the sensitive crown head of his cock gives your sweetest spot its final chaste kiss. satisfied with being filled to the very brim, you don’t get off just yet. instead, you remain there, gently brushing your hips forward.
“m- marry me,” he repeats, his voice cracking.
nanami hears the squelches and spurts your own pussy makes from the residue of cum spewing from the undersides of your legs. “ah,” and he grips your chin, attempting to kiss you but his lips instead reach toward your chin. you worn him out, he’s barely even reaching your mouth and it’s cute. nanami’s got hooded half lidded eyes and a pried open mouth. he’s almost drooling for you, that’s how whipped you had him. “be my wife, i need you.”
kissing his cheek, you smile at his current pussy drunken state. taking a mental image to savor this moment forever, a thumb brushes its way against his tender cheek. “i'm your wife already, silly,” and his eyes dramatically roll back in rapture again. nanami’s releases always last long, and he’s still getting over it. his dick twitches from the sound of your voice, and he wanted more of his sweet sweet wife. the feeling of your sopping walls squeezing him for every ounce of cum he’s got makes him grunt. it feels so good that it’s almost heavenly. it’s warm and insanely sticky — oozing in ropey wads from your hole before trickling all near his lap. “all yours, ken.”
“all m- mine,” he repeats breathlessly, gently grabbing your wrist up to his mouth.
with a sheepish exhale leaving his lips, a free hand slithers its way toward your tummy. sighing deeply, nanami makes direct eye contact. “my love,” he repeats for a final time, and you gasp once he suddenly pulls out.
pouting for a second at feeling empty, he makes you lie flat on your back. nanami’s got a feral look in his eyes, broad shoulders raising up and down and messy unkempt strands all in his face, he wants one thing tonight and it’s you.
as he spreads your quavering legs open with a single hand, he then creeps two fingers toward your stuffed cunt to smear his cum near your entrance. “since we’re already married, let me g- give you a baby, sweetheart. you’d be such a good m- mommy.”
note: idk. been gone for ~5 days and wrote this with my pussy 👍 everybody give it up for me
warnings: dark content. 18+! mdni. dubcon (coercion). sacrilege/blasphemy. fem reader. unprotected sex ("accidental" creampie).
s.....soaking with church boy armin.
"mmm... don't worry – it's okay...i-it's okay!" he coos, wiping a tear from your cheek while slowly pushing himself into your sweet and sticky cunt. "it's okay because i'm not gonna move."
you squeeze your thighs together and armin inhales sharply, jerking back in a half-assed attempt to keep himself from cumming inside you.
"ngh...just a little bit... i-i need to move a little – just a little okay?" he asks, but doesn't wait for your answer before he slowly pushes and pulls his cock in and out of you.
you feel so good he could cry.
the sound of his skin slapping yours, the sloshing of your soaked cunt, and your breathy whining and moaning removes all reasoning within him.
"i can't stop," he breathes, "can't stop 'm sorry.... you're so...feels so...g...i can't... oh god... 'm sorry fuck i'm gonna cum i'm sorry 'm so sorry i'm cumming 'm cumming..!" he babbles, impaired by the orgasm and the feeling of dumping his load inside you.
you would’ve stopped her, honestly. if it wasn’t for her moving at the speed of light and practically teleporting in front of him. you could only watch with wide eyes as your cousin, who’s just as short as you, lifts her hand and punches onyankopon right in his jaw.
a series of gasps escapes not only your throat but others also. you can’t tell if someone paused the music or if you just managed to tune the music out due to shock. your feet feel planted to the ground, you don’t know if you should hold back your cousin or check on him. your ears ring as she begins to swing her arms wildly.
“yo, zi, chill!” someone screams. instantly, people are trying to pull the two apart. more so, zinnia away from ony.
ony isn’t exactly fighting back if anything he’s trying to grab her wrists to detain her.
as the scene unfolded, you felt your chest tighten, and your breathing became short. the room seemed to spin around you, and the voices of your friends and strangers became distant echoes. panic surged through your veins like a tidal wave, threatening to engulf you in its overwhelming grip.
there’s so much going on, you feel sick. the urge to throw up courses through your body.
you clutch at your chest, trying to slow your racing heart, but it only seemed to beat faster. your thoughts spiral out of control, a mixture of fear and uncertainty. you struggle to make sense of what was happening, but the panic consumes you, clouding your mind with irrational thoughts.
then, in a moment of clarity, you recognize the familiar signs. this wasn't just nerves or stress—it was a full-blown panic attack. the realization hit you like a ton of bricks, sending a fresh wave of terror coursing through your veins.
the panic was relentless, its grip tightening with each passing moment. tears stung your eyes as you struggle to hold back the rising tide of emotion.
“yo itty bitty’s trippin’!” someone screams. you feel woozy and uncertain on your feet. everyone is packed so tightly, there’s barely any room to just breathe. you struggle to make sense of anything.
everyone froze in their spots when a sudden series of three shots rung through the air. for a moment no one in the house moved until one girl let out a gruesome scream and bolted towards the front door. and like the domino effect, everyone began rushing towards exits. Panic ignites like wildfire, spreading through the room in a frenzy of desperate flight. you couldn’t find zinnia or sasha, not even ony. your legs struggle to keep up with the rapid running and rushing. Panic ignites like wildfire, spreading through the room in a frenzy of desperate flight. you close your eyes and just move with the crowd.
the night air gushes against your face the second you get outside. desperately, your lungs begin sucking in the much-needed air. you’re stumbling around, trying to find your cousin, a friend, an acquaintance, anything.
as you struggle to look around outside, you’re suddenly pushed onto the ground by a strong force. a deafening scream escapes your throat as you fall face first onto the ground. you instantly ball up into a ball and begin sobbing. you regret coming, you should’ve just told zinnia no and stood on that. your face is both burning and aching, you can’t think clearly, and you’re still trying to recover from a panic attack. you began pleading for any god that’s listening to you to give you the strength to get up and walk, but it feels impossible to do so.
you don’t know if seconds or minutes pass but suddenly you’re picked up into strong arms. you continue to squeeze your eyes shut, you refuse to open your eyes and accept that what was happening is your current reality. you try to fight out of the person’s arms, hitting whatever you can.
“chill, mama. ‘s me. it’s your ony.” instantly your eyes are snapping open and you’re looking at the familiar brown eyes you fell in love with. his chocolate brown eyes are laced with concern. “fuck, we needa go.” you can’t tell if he’s talking to you or himself.
a heartfelt sob spews from deep in your chest. it’s so loud and powerful that it makes even ony stumble a bit.
he begins walking, he never once loosens his grip around your body. he speeds walk you to his car, looking behind his direction every other second. truthfully, he’s not worried about his own safety. he wishes someone would pull out a gun on him. it’s your safety he’s stressing about. even though he can try with all of his might to protect you, life is spontaneous, and he doesn’t know what could happen in the next few seconds.
he sets you down in the passenger seat, he would’ve usually made sure you were all the way strapped in your seatbelt but with the uncertainty that you were safe he just closes the door and makes a straight line to the driver’s side. he doesn’t waste time pulling his car away from the house, he speeds down the street, going way over the speed limit.
you’re still crying, with your face burning, you’re hesitant to look at yourself in the mirror. your shaky hand reaches for the mirror but ony quickly stops you by grabbing your hand and mixing his fingers with yours.
“stop. just chill. we’ll worry about that when we get to the crib.” he tells you. his voice is steady, and he hardly looks affected by being punched.
you look down at your entwined hands with widened eyes. it’s been days since you felt any sense of affection from him and it all feels foreign in a way. you don’t know if you want to push his hand off of yours or welcome it with relieved tears.
“jus’ keep breathin’ for me. ‘mma get you straight.” he promises.
you don’t say anything. you plop your head against the headrest. you feel utterly exhausted. along with exhaustion, you feel guilt. you know you’re safe with ony but you have no idea where sasha or zinnia is.
the realization knocks the wind out of your chest, and you perk up instantly.
“i don’t know where they are.” your voice is hoarse.
ony doesn’t need you to clarify who you’re talking about because he already knows. “they’re safe.” he tells you simply.
“how am i supposed to know that?” you snap back.
ony squints his eyes at your attitude. he doesn’t comment on it nor does he respond back to you. the two of you weren’t exactly on good terms and with what just happened he knows you’re talking with emotion and not logic.
even while snapping at him, you don’t let his hand go. if anything, you squeeze it a little tighter as you try to calm your nerves.
minutes later, he’s pulling up to his apartment complex.
“i wanna go home, not here.” you tell him stubbornly.
“your face is fucked up, you really wanna scare your momma by coming home all bloody?” he asks sarcastically. dropping your hand from his. “‘m not gonna touch you. i jus’ wanna make sure your mental is alright.” he tells you before turning his car off and opening the driver’s door.
he helps you out of his car. he makes sure you can actually walk and not stumble. he makes quick work of guiding you through the lobby and into the elevator. you two ignore the worried look the receptionist gives you two. while not knowing the backstory, it does look fucked up from an outside perspective. the two of you are deathly silent as you stand beside each other. there’s a look of irritation on your face while ony looks like he’s barely concealing his stress.
you’ve been to his apartment a plethora of times, so many times that you don’t wait for him to guide you to his doorstep. you walk in front of him, making sure to stomp your feet a little. you make it to his door before he does. you stand in front of it with your arms crossed, a look of impatience is etched onto your bruised face.
while you should be thanking him for picking you up instead of leaving you to die, memories of what he’s been doing and what he’s been putting you through flutter through your mind. days prior, you had daydreamed how you were gonna approach him and apologize, and hopefully get back onto good terms with the male. it all felt good in your head but as you stand beside him you can feel nothing but hate and resentment.
your face is on fire, it still hurts to even frown. you don’t even have to look at it to know it’s bruised. it takes everything in you to not cry again.
ony finally unlocks the door, he allows you to walk in first before following you in.
it’s almost robotic, the way you step out of your shoes and place them beside onyankopon’s expensive shoes. just like you have many times before. the two of you move through his apartment in silence, a hurtful but obvious factor that things aren’t the same. just three weeks ago you were here, laughing and joking with him. just three weeks ago, this apartment was your safe place whenever your parents got too overbearing, just three weeks ago your moans were ringing throughout the rooms as he brought you to mind-buzzing orgasms over and over.
you let out a breath as memories begin hitting you like bricks. you shuffle into his living room, it looks exactly the same it did weeks ago. even down to the lego set you begged him to buy so that you two could build it together. you continue walking through the apartment, there’s no confidence in your steps like previously, only uncertainty. you walk into the bathroom and cut the lights on.
finally, you’re able to get a good look at your face. your heart skips in your chest as you observe the bruises. your entire left eye is swollen and irritated, there’s a bit of skin missing on the tip of your nose, and your lips are bruised with hues of blood still remaining. there’s some skin missing around your lips, and minor scratches littering your face in general. at the sight, you burst into tears. you took your appearance extremely serious and to see something so horrifying on your face一something everyone could see has you feeling sick.
it almost hurts to cry but you can’t stop the pity tears from escaping. what were you going to tell your parents? how could you manage walking out in public looking so bruised? you struggle to catch your breath as self deprecating thoughts flutter inside your head. you can’t stop looking at yourself. you’re almost struggling to accept that this is your face.
onyankopon rushes into the bathroom when he hears your wails. when he sees you looking at yourself he automatically sighs and reaches for you. he takes you into his arms and holds you against his chest. he lets out soft “shhs’” and “i knows’” in an attempt to calm you down. he knows you, he knows that you would have reacted this exact way the second he saw your face at the party.
“i told you to chill, mama.” his voice, devoid of any anger. it carried a tone of genuine empathy rather than resentment. it holds a warmth that seemed to embrace rather than accuse. there was softness to his words.
you can’t respond to him due to how hard you’re crying. whatever he’s saying goes in one ear and out of the other. all you can think about is the current state of your face, and the events that took place before it.
“n-need to make sure zinnia ‘s okay.” you sniffle into his shirt.
“i need you to trust me when i tell you zinnia is safe, a’ight? i watched her with my own two eyes get somewhere safe, baby.” he reassures you.
“what about sasha?”
“she’s with connie.” he responds. he keeps his voice steady and every word he says is full of certainty.
you stay quiet at his responses. knowing that your girls are okay does take a little edge off of your shoulders. your mind feels less clouded and you can breathe just a bit better, now.
he continues to hold you, not letting his grasp go. it feels good to have you in his arms again. it sucks because it’s under unfortunate circumstances, but he’d be lying if he said he hasn’t been needing this一needing you. there’s so much to discuss with you, so much to apologize about, so much to own up to. those things can wait, though. so much has happened to you and he somewhat suspects the adrenaline is still pumping through your veins just a bit.
he wants to fuss at you for coming to the party anyway, but he knows that it wasn’t your idea to come. you’re too much of an anxious person to suggest coming to a party. the likeliness of the two girls dragging you with them to the party is higher than you dragging them. he doesn’t even know if it’s his place to get on you for coming anymore. he hates knowing that you were in a circumstance that a stray bullet could have hit you, and not to mention your face connecting with the ground and bruising you. he doesn’t know if it’s a good thing or not he didn’t see the person that pushed you because he probably would have acted with emotion rather than logic at that very moment.
“let’s put somethin’ on your pretty face, mama.” he’s pulling you from his chest and guiding you to sit down on the toilet seat.
he washes his hands before squatting in front of you. the bathroom becomes silent besides your occasional sniffles. he softly rubs the cream on bruised spots on your face, you bite down on your lip as you examine his face. flawless mocha brown skin, his skin seemed to glow with an inner radiance, as if kissed by the sun itself. his fox shaped eyes, a mesmerizing shade of chocolate-like brown, held a depth that drew you in, they reflected a world of untold stories and hidden emotions. his full, pink lips, delicately glossed from the habitual swipe of his tongue. he looks like he was personally crafted, as if god took his time shaping and mapping every area of him. even just his natural resting face is fierce and attractive.
as his fingertips grazed delicately around your eye, a sudden involuntary twitch rippled through your body, a sharp intake of breath escaped your lips, along with a hiss of discomfort spilling into the air. he withdrew, his gaze flickering with concern as he studied your face intently. lines of worry furrowed his brow.
“can i continue?” he asks after a few seconds of waiting for the pained look to etch off of your face.
you nod your head and he resumes to softly apply it on your face. occasionally, you jolt or let out a soft when he touches a spot that’s still burning. once he finishes doing so, he drops his hand and just takes a moment to look at you. your eyes flutter as the two of you make eye contact. time seems to still as you two wait for the other to do something, anything.
nothing happens. he looks away a few seconds later, and stands up to walk out of the bathroom. he quickly comes back with a towel and two rags for you.
“‘mma set some clothes on you on the sink. they’ll be there before you get out.” he tells you as he turns on the shower head and adjusts it to the temperature that he knows you prefer.
he’s quick to walk out again and you’d be lying if you said a pang in your chest didn’t come to you. usually, he would have undressed the both of you and coaxed you to get into the shower with him. but that's the past, and you have to remind yourself of that.
you undress yourself and step into the shower. your eyes widen when you realize onyankopon kept all of your products inside of his shower. you blink back the tears and instead focus on washing yourself.
it’s a struggle to not think about everything that has happened to you so far. you have never felt so stressed in your life. with you and onyankopon going through an undeclared break up, zinnia punching him, you having a panic attack, and you getting pushed and bruised. you quite frankly feel you’re on the verge of going insane. it feels like bad things keep happening over and over, not giving you the time to recover from what happened previously before something else happens.
you find yourself standing within the confines of the apartment you once envisioned as a sanctuary, now transformed into a box of discomfort and unease. the air feels heavy with unresolved tension, each corner of the room echoing with the weight of unspoken words. every familiar object seems to taunt you with its silent witness to the downfall in your relationship. everything feels different and awkward and it makes you want to scream and pull out your hair. you two keep skipping over the elephant in the room instead of being adults and just discussing what happened.
you lose time on how long you stay in the shower. you scrub your body until it burns. by the time you step out, the water is no longer as hot and your fingertips have wrinkled. just as he promised, there’s clothes sitting on the sink, waiting to be used. you dry yourself off and use the lotion that he keeps on the counter.
once you’re clothed, you step out of the bathroom. you follow the sounds of shuffling and rummaging in the kitchen. ony is standing there, eating something out of a tupperware bowl. when he sees your figure coming closer to him, he looks up from his phone.
“you good?” he asks, observing your face for any signs of uncomfort.
“yeah.” you nod your head as you come closer to the island top. “‘m thirsty.” you comment.
ony is quick to move from his spot and grab a glass cup. he fills it up with cold water before handing you the glass. he watches you as you practically drink it all with three gulps. “wan’ some more?” he asks, an amused smile finds its way on his lips. when you nod your head once more he fills it up and just watches you.
you don’t finish it all like you did previously. you drink a good amount before you’re pushing the glass away. now that you're hydrated and less sweaty, it feels like you can actually think and make sense of things.
“what time is it?” you ask him.
onyankopon looks down at his screen, “12:27.” your eyes widened, you didn’t realize it had gotten so late so quickly. “you hungry?” he asks, gesturing towards his food.
“‘m okay. i wanna sleep.” you tell him. you stand there awkwardly, unsure of where to go. do you sleep on the couch? his bed? maybe he’ll even book you a room.
“i got my bed ready for you.” he goes back to eating his food.
you freeze up in your spot. you weren’t sure if you were ready to share a bed with him at the moment. too much has happened today, also you two are practically broken up. you suppose he could see the discomfort filling your body because he begins explaining his words.
“i’m sleepin’ on the couch.” he explains. “my door has a lock on it too if you feel the need to use it.”
you blink at him. once, twice, three times before you’re nodding your head at his words. “goodnight.” you say. you don’t walk away for a few seconds. you just stare at him, in total disbelief that this is how you’re treating each other now. you have so much to say as well as so much to ask. the words die quickly in your throat just as fast as they ignite.
the second your back touches the soft, black silk sheets that adorn his bed; you immediately relax. your shoulders slack and you can’t stop the little yawn from escaping your mouth.
you look over on his nightstand and you’re surprised to see your phone sitting there charging. you’re quick to pick it up. hundreds of notifications sit on your notification bar, you decide you’ll look deeper into those in the morning. you search for zinnia’s contact and when you finally find it, you press it.
the line rings for a few seconds, you assume she isn’t going to answer until it suddenly picks up.
“snookie.” she says the second it connects. you could hear the relief in her voice.
“it’s me.” you confirm. “you alright?”
“yeah. i just—i fuckin’ blacked out at that party.” she’s chuckling like it’s the most humorous thing in the world. “i bet his ass ain’t never been punched like that.”
you can’t stop the giggle from escaping your throat. zinnia has always been a wild card, especially when she thought with her emotions. that’s how she became known in your city, she was always fighting at one point in middle school and up until her junior year in high school. she had a bad habit of spazzing out whenever someone told her what to do, or when someone messed with someone she loved. while people outside of your family just saw her as a troubled instigator, you and your family knew she was an aggressive person, she’s just big on respect.
“i.. i kinda wish you didn’t punch him.” you admit. you could hear her smack her teeth through the phone. you’re sure she’s also rolling her eyes too. “i don’t want things to be bad blood between you and ony. you guys have known each other for years.”
“snookie, you’re my cousin. you’re basically lil sister. i would never put a nigga before you. and i know how the game goes, i won’t allow some random ass boy to play in your face.” she tells you. her voice is sincere. she wants so much for you. she knows you were sheltered and haven’t had much of a chance to actually spread your wings and fly without someone looking over you. she also knows how possessive ony get, it doesn’t take much to see that he has you wrapped around his finger. it bothers her in a sense. she’s afraid you’ll continue to fail to set boundaries and allow him to do as he pleases.
you bite down on your lip as you listen to her words. “i know. i just—” you’re cut off by her loudly sighing.
“just nothing. i punched that nigga in his shit and i’d do it again if i need to.”
you know how zinnia gets. instead of arguing with her or begging to change her mind, you just accept it. “i hear you.” is all you can say.
the two of you sit in silence for a few seconds. you can’t think of anything to say to keep the conversation going. after such a draining day, you just wanted to sleep for months. your mind goes back to your face, which is still aching a little. you should’ve just told zinnia no, you wished sasha didn’t call and wake up zinnia. if none of that would have happened, there wouldn’t be a wedge between zinnia and ony, and your face wouldn’t be bruised.
“where are you?” she asks.
you hesitate on your answer. she’s going to be pissed when you say your location, you can feel it. you stare at the wall ahead, trying to think of a coverup. when nothing comes to mind, you sigh in defeat.
“onyankopon’s house.” you admit.
“girl.” she practically yells into the phone. “how the hell did you get with him? how-what.. girl. i’m about to come get you.” you could shuffling in the background and the faint sound of the mattress crinkling.
“no! zinnia, no. your voice trembles with urgency, reverberating through the phone. “i’m safe. way safer with him than anywhere else right now.” you try to explain, your breath quickening as you search for the right words. The silence on the other end is heavy before she lets out a breath.
“bullshit. i knew something was up when i asked eren if he saw you. i fuckin’ knew it, he was too calm when he said you’re good.” she begins rambling on how she’s going to punch eren next and onyankopon again.
“z, i was literally having a panic attack when he found me. he’s been patient and careful with me this whole time. it’s just one night and then i’m goin’ right back to my house.”
zinnia sighs as she stops in her tracks. she could hear the begging and sincerity in your voice and it crushes her. you’re grown, she has to remind herself.
“alright. snooks. alright. just.. just stay safe, okay?” zinnia plops back down onto the bed.
“i will.” there was no one safer than ony. even if you guys were going through an unofficial breakup, you’re positive he still wouldn’t let anything happen to you. “where are you?” you ask when you faintly hear a voice in the background.
“eren’s.” she says quietly.
“and you’re mad at me?!” you exclaim with a laugh.
her and eren have been on and off for years now. most of the time their relationship ends because zinnia gets irritated or overwhelmed by eren and calls it quits. there little breakups barely last a week before they’re seeing each other again. this time’s no different.
“i think the line is breaking up. i-oops-bye!” she says before hanging up on you. i stare at your phone in shock, did she really hang up on you? you can’t do anything but laugh to yourself.
you decide to call sasha too, who answers on the first ring.
“about to get dick. i’m safe, are you safe?” she asks hurriedly. you could hear r&b music blaring in the background and the sound of connie’s singing.
“yeah, just was calling to make sure everything was alright.” you explain to her.
“more than alright. i’ll call you tomorrow, snooks. gotta go.” you usher her a quick bye before ending the call.
there’s no one to distract your thoughts, now. you’re forced to look around in the room you lost your virginity in, the room it felt like you were just in. memories of you and onyankopon stumbling through the door, his hands planted on your waist as he guided you to his bed. other times you two would be laughing while carrying a bag from your comfort fast food place. you’d be discussing the new episode of the tv show you two enjoyed watching together. you don’t even realize your eyes were watering until one of your tears ran down your cheek. you let out a huff as you wiped it away only to hiss in pain when you accidentally touch a bruised spot.
there’s no telling how long you lay in bed staring blankly at the walls and ceilings. your thoughts are so loud that you can’t even find it in you to get on your phone. there’s memories of him there too. thankfully, you doze off and the stress from today is something to worry about when you wake up.
₊˚⊹ ♡ ʚ🎀ɞ ♡ ⊹˚
“you sure you're straight?” onyankopon asks. his brown eyes take in your bruised face. even through all of the marks and bruises, you’re still so beautiful. he had made sure you were fed and that he put cream on your face before you two made the journey back to your house.
you stare out of the passenger window. your heart feels heavy, you’re worried that this will be the last time you two officially talk. even though you were so sad and mad at him, you love him. he’s your first everything, and everything he did felt genuine. it was hard to throw something so meaningful behind you. your bottom lip trembles as you try not to cry in front of him.
“i’ll make it.” is all you say. you try to keep up your disdained front, but onyankopon sees through it. he always does.
“i put the cream in your purse.” he tells you. he had made sure to drop it in while you were finishing the breakfast he bought you.
“thanks.” you basically whisper out. you should be screaming at him, you should be telling him you hate him, you should be disrespecting him just as much as he did you at the party. but none of those emotions could be forefront at the moment. you’re sad, scared, and confused. you truly don’t want to lose him but you couldn’t just pretend you didn’t see the video and accept the disrespect.
the two of you sit in silence. after what feels like an eternity, onyankopon lets out a long, weary sigh, breaking the awkward stillness that had settled between you. “i know i fucked up. ‘nd i know we need t’talk some shit out. i got some plays to make today, ‘nd ion wanna rush you t’talk to me if you don’t want to.” he’s careful with his words, he doesn’t want to say anything else that would upset you and make you hate him more. “when you’re ready, call or text me.”
finally, you look over at him. your eyes connect with his instantly and the familiar butterfly feeling returns in your gut. “alright.” you mumble. you pick up your purse and then open the door. you close it and without looking back like you usually would, you walk to your front porch. you could feel his eyes on you as you walked. it took almost all of your willpower to not look back.
you busy yourself with searching in your purse for your house key. he doesn’t pull off until you’re all the way in your eyes and the door is closed behind you. you don’t know how to feel. your relationship could possibly reconcile on your terms. you didn’t know if you wanted to reconcile. you’ve heard zinnia mention many times that she goes to eren’s for closure before they break up permanently, but she never comes back actually single. is that what’s going to happen with you and onyankopon? you’re sure he’s more mature than eren, so what if he decides to end things.
you’re so stuck in your thoughts you don’t realize your mother is calling you until she’s directly in your face. you had meant to rush into your bedroom and show your parents your face hours later. you’re sure your newfound state will be the talk of the house for the rest of the day now. her eyes are wide as she takes in your bruises, without a word her hand grabs your jaw. she assesses how bad things are with sharp eyes. you hold your breath as you wait for her to begin her lecturing.
“daughter.” she says as she drops her hand.
“hm?” you pretend you don’t notice her mood drop or the fact that you can practically feel the anger radiating off of her.
“before i trip the hell out, you’re an adult. and in a very adult manner, without beating around the bush, you’re going to tell me what the hell happened to your face.” she leaves no room for argument, every word spoken is stoic and firm.
“ma, can i tell you later?” you’re sighing with deflated shoulders. “i need to just be alone right now and think.” you try to explain yourself.
“this is why i’m so protective. i let you go out, and this is how you come back! have you seen your face? do you know you have to go out in public like that?!”
“please, ma. not right now.” your voice cracks as you plead with her to relax. the last thing you feel like dealing with is her fretting. “i’ll tell you, i just need some time alone.”
“did that damn boy put his hands on you?! tell me now so we can go to the police!” her accusation has your heart thumping a little faster in your chest.
you quickly grow defensive on onyankopon’s behalf. “he would never! i fell.” you tell her simply. you could tell from the way she rolled her eyes that she didn’t believe you which only irritated you further.
“you think i haven’t heard that before? that’s what girls always say to protect their boyfriend’s. i refuse to allow you to see him if一”
“he didn’t hit me! i fell! i was at a party, a fight broke out, it escalated into something further, and everyone got scared and started pushing. no one hit me, i was pushed and fell face first.” you make sure to leave out the fact that it was zinnia who got into a fight.
your mother’s sharp eyes eye you from head to toe. there’s a frown on her face that screams that she still doesn’t believe you. you feel the urge to cry, you were being truthful and telling her what happened from start to finish, and for her to not believe you made you want to scream.
“you’d tell me if he一no, anyone, put their hands on you. right?” her voice is calmer. you assume she’s trying to piece together your words.
“yes. you know i would. i know how crazy you and dad can get.” you try to slip in a joke to ease the tension that was brewing between the two of you. it seemed to work because a small smile cracked onto her lips as she nodded her head in agreement.
“mhm. everybody know we don’t play about our baby.” she chuckles. she gazes intently at your face for a few more seconds, her eyes searching yours as if looking for something unspoken. finally, she lets out a deep, weary sigh, her shoulders slumping slightly with the weight of unvoiced thoughts. “that’s how i know you’re my daughter. still pretty with scratches and shit on your face.”
you can’t stop the laugh from escaping past your lips. “i learned from the best.”
“your daddy’s upstairs. gone and show him you face so that he can get his shock out the way too.” she tells you.
you groan in annoyance at her words. “ma一”
“gone on.” she repeats firmer.
with hesitant, slow steps you take your time walking up the stairs. you knew your father was going to absolutely lose his shit. and you’re more than positive that he’s going to overreact before you can explain to him what happened. the walk to their bedroom is too short for your liking. you knock twice before you put your hand on the knob and slowly open the door.
“hey babygir一what the hell?! go get the gun!”
a heavy sigh escapes your lips as the realization hits you. you’re going to have to explain everything and soothe his worries, just as you did with your mother. the weight of the impending conversation settles on your shoulders, and you mentally brace yourself for the emotional rollercoaster ahead.
₊˚⊹ ♡ ʚ🎀ɞ ♡ ⊹˚
it’s been a week since you’ve talked to onyankopon. since the, you’ve been forcing yourself to go out more, regardless of what happened to your face. sasha and zinnia have doing wel on keeping you and your mind occupied. the three of you have been going on many nature walks, shopping trips, and road trips. it seems as if love was no longer in the air, as your two ‘sisters’ complained about their failing love life as well.
you three were walking a popular trail in your city. the path was lined with a diverse array of vibrant plants, their leaves rustling gently in the breeze. every so often, a flash of color would catch your eye as various birds and delicate butterflies flew by. all three of you were wearing pink pilates workout sets that you begged them to wear with you.
zinnia wiped off the sweat that formed on her forehead. “shit! it’s hot.”
“i miss my man.” sasha pouts as she lets out a dramatic fake cry.
“bitch, don’t we all.” zinnia rebuttals. she takes a gulps out of her water bottle while sasha begins ranting about connie.
“i didn’t even do shit to him this time! i think he’s on his boy period or something.” sasha groans.
“eren told me, i’m and i quote, ‘too crazy’.” zinnia’s lips tug into a frown “‘m not crazy, just sensual.” she defends herself.
“nah girl, you’re crazy. but eren is crazy too, so y’all are made for each other.” sasha tells zinnia.
“didn’t you chase connie down when you saw another girl in his car?”
you zone the two girls out. even though you’ve been going out more. it would be a lie to say you haven’t been missing ony, it’s gotten to the point where you find yourself tearing up a little and have to quickly mask it. you absolutely love spending time with your girls, the both of them together always make sure to make you laugh. but there were traits of ony that the two of them didn’t carry and couldn’t make you forget.
the urge to text him and possibly reconcile has been begging you to give in. you should hate him, you should absolutely despise him, but for some reason you don’t. you feel the urge to sit down with him, and simply ask him why. you had never done anything to disrespect him, ever, so why did he feel the need to disrespect you?
your mind races with a whirlwind of thoughts, each one pulling you in a different direction. part of you craves the closure that a conversation might bring, the chance to understand his actions and perhaps find some peace. yet, there's an undeniable fear that talking to him could reopen old wounds, making it even harder to move on. you find yourself questioning everything—did you miss the signs, were there red flags you ignored, or was it all just a cruel twist of fate? the uncertainty gnaws at you, leaving you torn between the need for answers and the instinct to protect your heart from further pain.
“snookie.” zinnia’s voice calls you out of your thoughts. you slightly flinch and look over at her. “you talked to ony recently?” she asks curiously.
“uh, no. we haven’t spoken since he dropped me off last week.” you tell the two. “he told me to call or text him whenever i’m ready.”
“are you ready?” sasha asks you.
you think on your words. you find yourself at a loss of words which causes you to shrug your shoulders unsurely. “i-uhm.. i think i’m kinda ready.” you say hesitantly.
“don’t be in a rush to talk. let him be without your presence for a little.” sasha tells you.
“that’s the thing, we’ve been going without talking for a while. and honestly i miss him, so much, maybe too much.” memories of what he did at the party flashes through your mind which causes you to internally shudder. “i think i might talk to him soon.” you huff.
the girls give each other a look before they give you any sort of vocal response. “you sure?” zinnia asks worrily. “i don’t want him to just sweet talk you and you instantly give in. we know you, snooks.”
you take in her words. what people don’t understand is that he’s your first everything. he holds a place in your heart that no person will ever compare to. regardless of if you end things with him or not, you’ll forever have love for him.
“i don’t know how it’s going to go, honestly. i’m just ready to talk to him and have a final answer.”
“well, just know we support whatever you choose.” sasha tells you while giving you a genuine smile.
₊˚⊹ ♡ ʚ🎀ɞ ♡ ⊹˚
the sound of partynextdoor's voice fills onyankopon's car. the smell of weed and a mixture of his strong cologne fills your smell. it's two merged smells that you've grown to miss. you feel strangely nervous to be around him, as if he wasn't just your boyfriend some weeks ago.
you're nervously typing in the three out of three group chat. you're updating the girls about every minor detail that happens. you were beginning to regret agreeing to meet up with him, you thought you would have been more confident and assured but just a lazy glance from his brown eyes had butterflies floating around inside your stomach.
you look down at the cupholder where his phone rests. that's what started it all. him leaving his phone and you taking it upon yourself to pick it up and go through it. you quickly learned your lesson, you probably will never touch anyone else's phone except yours for the rest of your life.
you wouldn't have had time to do it again, anyway. seconds later, onyankopon is approaching his car with both vanilla sundaes in his tattooed hands. he hands you yours before sitting down and making himself comfortable.
"thank you." the words leave your lips stiffly, lacking the warmth they once held. just weeks ago, you might have added a playful nickname, something intimate that rolled off your tongue with ease. now, the air between you feels thick with unspoken tension, making such casual familiarity feel out of place and awkward.
he mutters out a stilted “you’re welcome” before he’s putting his car in reverse and backing out of the parking lot.
he drives in silence, and you make no attempts to spark up a conversation. you have no clue of what to say to him first. occasionally, words bubble in your mouth and as you’re ready to vocalize them, you stop yourself.
the drive isn’t particularly long. quicker than you expected, ony is pulling into a secluded spot that overlooks the river running through your city. the location is perfect, offering an unobstructed view of the sunset. the sky is awash with warm orange hues, casting a gentle glow over the water, the scene feels almost surreal, the calmness of the view displayed to you wrapping around you like a comforting blanket. it’s short lived when he puts his car into park and turns it off, only the music is running. your heart drops as you realize the inevitable is about to happen.
you focus intently on your sundae, trying to distract yourself. your stomach is doing flips, making it nearly impossible to swallow the sweet, creamy bites. each spoonful feels like an effort, the sugary treat almost too much to handle the turmoil inside you.
“how have you been?” his voice makes you flinch a little. you thought he was going to stay just as quiet as you.
“i’ve been good.” terse and short. you’re not even doing it on purpose, it’s just all you could provide. “how about you?” you add on to seem less rude.
he takes a spoonful of his ice cream before he responds to you. “life has been lifing.” he chuckles but it seems forced.
“oh.” is all you can provide. admittedly, hearing that he’s been going through things and not everything has been peaches and cream for him fulfills some insecure part in your brain.
“snookums.” the nickname he used to call you had your eyes suddenly watering. you pretend to not be affected by his words by inhaling a restricting amount of ice cream. “i’ve never felt like this about anyone, ever. i want us to work, forreal. i don’t think i can continue livin’ my life without you in it. you’re all pink ‘nd glittery ‘nd shit. you deadass walked into my life and brightened shit up. i love it. i love you.” ony finishes off his words with a heavy inhale. the sound of the water clashing against each other fills the silence as you try to collect your words.
tears continue to threaten to spill past your eyes as you stare out of the windshield window. you feel so overwhelmed, there were hundreds—millions of. things you wanted to say to him when you were mad but now that you’re calm and thinking, you have nothing to say. deep down, past your rapidly beating heart, you knew that you didn’t want your relationship to end. but it’s choosing between fighting for your relationship and accepting his wrongdoings or ending things now and keeping some sort of morals.
you don’t even realize tears are dripping down your face until ony’s fingers wipe under your eyes, catching a few stray tears. you turn your head to look at him, his chocolate eyes are only on you. there’s a restless look on his face. was no contact hurting him as much as it was hurting you? you honestly hoped it was.
your words die in your throat every time you try to form a sentence. you could only sniffle and rub at your eyes.
“w-why? just.. why? why’d.. you let her dance on you? why’d you go an-and embarrass me like that?” you barely manage to get everything out without bursting into tears. your voice is wobbly and cracked. you hate feeling like this.
“i was high ‘nd drunk as fuck. but that does not at all excuse my actions. i’m genuinely sorry for my actions and i hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me.” his voice sounds sincere, and the way he's gazing at you, with his eyes practically begging for a second chance, makes it clear how much he means it.
you take a deep breath, feeling the weight of his words. the hurt still lingers, but so does the memory of the good times. now’s the time to be an adult, to communicate thoroughly, to set boundaries and not just go with whatever he says.
"what you did.. really hurt me.” you sigh out before continuing. “and it's going to take time to rebuild that trust. but i can see how sorry you are, a-and i want to believe that you can change. i need to know that this won't happen again." you say quietly, your voice trembling slightly. you look into his eyes, searching for the sincerity you hope is there.
“i swear on everything that this won’t happen ever again, i’ll deactivate what ever account, i’ll stop goin’ to parties, all of it. you matter more than any social media page or party, i’ll forever choose your love.” he tells you sincerely. his voice carries a blend of determination and vulnerability. timidly, he reaches for your left hand, his fingers trembling slightly as he gently lifts it. when you allow him to grasp it, he envelops your smaller hand in his larger, warmer grip, a gesture of his earnest plea for forgiveness.
₊˚⊹ ♡ ʚ🎀ɞ ♡ ⊹˚
“and yeah.. i took him back.” you finish recalling the events that took place to zinnia and sasha. the three of you are lounging on your bed, spiraled in different positions so that all three of you could fit. the two girls were hanging onto every word you said, nosily. “i know i’m stupid or naive but一” you’re cut off by zinnia talking over you.
“none of that, snookie. you’re young and in love. no one knows you better than you know him and if you want to give him another chance then so be it. don’t block yourself from love worrying about what everyone else is going to say or think.” your cousin’s words are firm and she’s looking directly into your face to let you know she’s serious. “it’s your first serious relationship, not everything’s gonna be perfect.”
“literally. have you seen how many times we went back to these damn men? we might not like them right now, but we do love them.” sasha backs up zinnia’s words.
“well, i wouldn’t say i love eren, but he’s real chill y’know? zinnia's voice trails off as both you and sasha exchange an unimpressed glance. sasha raises an eyebrow, and you stifle a sigh, knowing exactly where this conversation is heading. “what?! i’m serious!” ainnia insists, her tone defensive, but her attempt to convince you falls flat. “
your cousin’s a liar, maybe you shouldn’t listen to her advice.” sasha side eyes zinnia some more.
the girls begin bickering while you think back to onyankopon. he has been trying to do better and also get the relationship back to how things were before the argument. he’s constantly checking up on you, making sure you’re still applying cream to your fading bruises, and sending you money whenever you mention the slightest things. the awkwardness that manifests sometimes still lingers between the two of you, but you both try to work around it and adjust.
he’s been having an uproar of clients which means having to stay on the go constantly since he also delivers. he still makes sure to find time to call you and talk about your day and plans. you feel like a giddy teenager having their first crush.
“when’s the last time you and connie talked?” zinnia asks sasha.
“while i was driving over here. i had him on bluetooth, and asked him if he still hates me. he told me i ‘ruined his life’. like okay mr.dramatic.” sasha recounts while rolling her eyes and shrugging her shoulders.
“he might be onto something.” zinnia comments.
“oh, please!” sasha responds defensively.
these two girls have made sure to keep you content and entertained this entire time. they’ve never judged you or made you feel left out and confused. and you’re so grateful for them. you don’t even realize you’re crying until their attention is placed onto you and they’re both gazing at you with confused curiosity.
“snookie, what’s wrong?” sasha asks worrily. “is it cause i brought up connie? his vibe is negative right now but he’s not that bad of a person.”
you huff out a laugh at her words. with the end of your shirt, you use it to dab at your eyes. “no it’s not that. i just一i’m so grateful to have you both. y’all have been so supportive and understanding. and i’m so thankful.” you finish off your words weakly. instead of successfully wiping at your tears you’ve only managed to multiply them.
“awe, snookie! you’re gonna make me cry!” zinnia exclaims while wiping at her eyes. “you’re our lil’ sister why wouldn’t we be here for you?” she sniffles.
“you mean the world to us. and you were going through an extremely vulnerable situation, of course we were going to make sure you stayed level headed.” sasha adds on, her voice filled with empathy and concern.
all three of you find yourselves caught in a chorus of sniffles, a harmony of shared vulnerability while comforting each other. the scene is both comical and beautiful. three women that have each other as a solid support system. all three of your personalities are polar but they still manage to successfully merge and create a beautiful sisterhood.
after the three of you calm down and go back to your usual selves, you decide to spark up the conversation again. “ony wants me to come over his crib tonight.” you tell them nervously.
they both look up from their phones and look at you. zinnia has a look of hesitance while sasha has a smirk on her lips.
“snookie’s trying t’get freaky!” sasha laughs. with a sly smile on your lips, you cover your face in embarrassment. she isn’t exactly wrong. it’s been a while. you went from getting some almost everyday, including multiple times a day, to none. late night when it was just you in your room, you get wandering thoughts and memories that are too extreme to ignore.
“it would be nice.” you giggle shyly.
“don’t think you have to have sex with him, okay? just ‘cus y’all are together again doesn’t mean he needs to be inside you.” zinnia lectures. she really does just want the best for you, and she’s aware that you just want to go out and live. she doesn’t want to be sheltering like your parents, but she does want you to be safe.
“okay.” you nod your head. you’re aware that she just wants the best for you.
“don’t end up having a mini ony.” sasha warns you.
₊˚⊹ ♡ ʚ🎀ɞ ♡ ⊹˚
“ohmygod!” you squeal. your legs are spread open with onyankopon’s broad figure in between them. everything about him is so big, including the fingers that are rubbing at your clit. “baby.” the word escapes from your mouth weakly as your hands clench at the messy covers.
onyankopon busies himself with kissing at your jaw, his full lips leave trails of wet kisses. you felt so full, if you concentrated enough it almost felt like he was going beyond the confines of your walls and into your stomach.
“missed you, baby.” his tone is soft as he continues his trailing. the sound of his lips smacking against your skin and your body’s merging together to create a lustful harmony echo’s through his bedroom.
“missed you too.” you heave out. he’s taking his time to fuck you. his thrusts are articulated and rhythmic, he never skips a beat as he fills you up over and over again. the sound of his heavy balls slapping against your ass almost embarrasses you.
your pussy’s a sputtering mess, gushes of your arousal continue to coat his dick every time he pushes his thick dick into your warm walls. the only time he’s ever fucked you so slow and sincerely is the night he took your virginity. there’s something about the slow pull of his hips that has you going crazy. he’s moving so slow but it’s enough to fill you up and have you muttering words of love.
“you missed getting fucked like this, baby? hm? missed the way i filled you up?” he moves to your ear to whisper sweet little praises. everything he’s muttering to you sounds good. he hasn’t fucked you to the point that you could feel yourself going dumb. instead, you feel an infinite amount of love for him, with the way he’s slowly moving and talking to you, is this what making love feels like? you wonder to yourself.
“yes, ony, missed it so much.” you moan.
“jus’ love you s’much.” ony mumbles to you. his tongue darts out to trace the shell of your ear. he’s going even slower it feels like.
“faster, ony.” you whine. you were absolutely enjoying his slow languid thrusts but you were beginning to grow more needy. you wanted him to fuck you like he usually did. rough, unforgiving, and nasty.
“y’asking or telling, baby?” he taunts. he stops his thrusting all together which draws another whine out of you, this time more frustrated than the other.
“asking.” you’re pouting and grabbing at his shoulders. you look so small under him, it makes him want to be mean. he knows you can take it, you always do.
ony moves back to your lips, he doesn’t rush to connect his lips with yours. instead, he lets his linger by yours while looking deeply into your eyes. even after talking and forgiving him, there’s so much left to be said. he knows it’ll take time to rebuild the trust you had in him and plans on making sure to never put you in a predicament like that again. slowly, he leans into you and presses his lips yours.
you get so caught up in the steamy kiss, you don’t realize he had begun to move his hips again. not until, he gives you a particularly hard thrust that has you pulling away from the kiss so that you could moan freely.
he plows his dick into your aroused cunt causing soft mewls to escape from your mouth. you had begun biting down on your lip, he realizes. ony smacks his teeth and stops once again. wordlessly, he had leaned up and placed one of your legs on his shoulder.
a loud moan frees itself from you when he suddenly starts pounding your pussy. the rough, firm rhythm is back, just faster.
“‘m sorry.” he repeats to you. he’s letting out moans and huffs himself as he loses himself inside your tight, wet pussy.
“mmm!” is all you can groan in response. your brain can’t handle words at the moment. your eyes zero in on where the two of you are connected. there’s a thick white coat around his dick and some splatters on his pubic hair.
“gonna make it up t’you. i love you.” he promises with a desperate whine.
his finger goes back to fondling with your sensitive clit. your back arches up, which only gives a better view at your chest. “love you too—love you more.” you gasp out.
that night, he makes love to you over and over until the two of you are extremely exhausted. he makes sure to apologize, to make promises he guarantees he’s going to fulfill, and to never hurt you like that ever again.
Tengen has a big cock so he has to ‘train’ you like he did his other three wives. Of course they are gonna help, one of Makio is sucking on your nipple, Suma is sitting on your face, while the Hina is rubbing your clit. While Tengen is trying to get the last two inches in. Suma’s soft thighs muffle the encouraging he is giving you to relax and take it
