Call me Elle.

his forehead rested against yours as he never ripped his gaze away from where your bodies melted together, transfixed on the sight below. the slick cream you’ve left all over his dick as it slides in and out of your slutty cunt, every stroke leaving it coated in more. he was right, you were a fucking wreck.

his deep grunts and sultry groans right against the hand he kept over your mouth, his hand on your waist tightening every time you squeezed around him when he grazed against that spot deep inside, your legs shaking from pleasure so intense.

and of course he knew it, he knew what he was doing to you could possibly fuck sex up with anyone else for you for the rest of your little life, and it only spurred him on further. It made him wanna break you, mold and shape you so anytime you ever even looked at a man, all you would feel is disappointment.

disappointment that it would never be him. disappointed that it wasn’t mingi’s hot mouth on your pussy, eating your cunt like a man starved and not stopping until it hurt.

mingi’s eyes flicked up to meet your hazy ones, tears welling so prettily as you were beyond overstimulated.

shifting the angle of his thrusts, he found that perfect slant that had him rutting against your gspot persistently, resolute and unwavering as he ruined you on his thick cock. you moaned loudly, and he ripped his hand from your mouth, landing a sharp slap to your sore cheek, then snatching your face in his rough grip, his calloused fingers pressing into your jaw and squishing your cheeks cutely, your lips formed into a forced pout.

“stupid bitch can’t keep quiet, can she?” he chastised, jerking your head around softly like he was playing with a broken doll, his eyes landed back on where he thrusted inside you, letting out a purely perverted groan, eyes rolling at how big he looked inside of you.

“m-mingiii…” you cried, the syllables muffled by the hold he had on your face. mingi pouted at you in faux concern, giving you a thrust so hard it nearly made your vision go fucking black, and your breath caught in your chest at the sheer force of it.

“whaaaatttt baby? what’s wrong?” he mocked, letting go of your face to slip his middle and index finger into your mouth, pressing down on your tongue in a similar fashion to the gut wrenching way he loves to finger fuck your pussy. you dripped drool down his fingers and it slipped down his wrists, landing on his chain bracelets. sweat beaded on his forehead from the exertion, his slick chest heaving with labored breaths as he gave you his all.

what can he say, he’s always been a tryhard.

“my sweet stupid baby, is that what you are, hm?” he nearly glared at you, words tinged with what could only be jealousy, from what? only he would know.

“are you my dumb girl? my braindead cumslut?” all you’d have to do was walk out onto the street and god forbid another man look at you and he was bonafide pissed.

you nodded, moaning around his thick fingers the vibrations of his voice against your throat making your whole body tingle as he moaned and purred, lips pressed against the side of your neck, like he was holding himself back from completing obliterating you where you stood.

“of course you are.” he grinned, pressing his sweat dripped chest against yours, pushing his body even closer, leaving not an inch of space between you both, the slick, wet, plaps of his hips meeting yours with each, deep, punishing stroke echoing around the concrete walls of the cold and empty warehouse hall.

you were a goner.

“fuck you.” he spat, sinking his teeth into your throat hard, like he was trying to eat you. “play some stupid shit— fuck… with me like that again and you won’t be walking away from me in one piece, you understand?” all you did was get a little too close to yunho. lesson one learned, you guess.

you were unable to speak, his fingers still curled down against your tongue.

he slipped them out of your mouth, sliding his hand back between your head and the wall, holding your skull straight and pressing his lips against yours in a messy heated kiss, tongue sloppily slipping between your lips and swallowing your broken moans greedily.

“understand?” he growled into your mouth, biting your tongue gently.

“i u-understand!” you cried into the kiss, and his smile against your lips was nothing short of vile and desirous.

“there she is. theres’s my good girl. cum on my cock, slut. now.”

and of course you did, your whines fell silent as you fell apart around him once again, he laughed into your mouth drinking up how your body reacted to him. no matter how you acted or what you said when he wasn’t inside you like this taking you apart limb from limb and making you cum you brains out, mingi was confident.

your body doesn’t lie.

“my slut. mine.” mingi snarled, his words lilting with fucked out moans and pussy drunk coos. he wasn’t stopping, the sloppy mess between your legs only growing wetter with each long glide and deep stroke he fucked you with, the powering drive in him only seemed to grow stronger as he made it his mission in that moment to condition you to him. to his shape and to his touch, to his words and to his taste. he wanted you to cum on the spot just from hearing his voice.

and he’d get you there soon, one way or another.

fuma: he doesn’t pull back; instead, he drives himself deeper, each thrust deliberate and heavy, cockhead brushing that sensitive spot inside you like he’s memorizing every shudder and twitch. one hand locks firmly on your waist, keeping you steady, while the other trails up your side, fingers trailing along your jaw and down your neck. his lips part, voice low and rough, a growl barely contained as he murmurs, “damn… you feel too good. can’t get enough of this.” his hips snap harder and faster, pounding into you with an urgency that matches the heat pooling in his eyes. the wet slickness coating both of you doesn’t slow him down. it only drives him wilder. fuma’s too lost in the moment, chasing the way your muscles squeeze and release around him, the way your breath hitches and your nails dig into his back. every desperate cry, every needy moan, it’s fuel for the fire burning in his chest. he’s relentless, refusing to let you come down from the edge, fucking you through every tremor and spasm until you’re a shaking, gasping mess in his arms. then he leans in close, lips brushing your ear as he rasps, “you’re mine. don’t forget that.” and with that, he buries himself even deeper, claiming you fully while your slickness coats him, marking you like the greedy, possessive man he is.

nicho: slick and wild, coating his cock deep inside you. he doesn’t even hesitate or pull out. instead, he grips your hips tight, the pads of his fingers pressing into your skin possessively as he starts moving slower at first, savoring every shudder and twitch your body gives him. his eyes darken, pupils blown wide with hunger and satisfaction, watching every inch of you tremble beneath him. his hips start snapping harder, powerful and relentless, pounding into you with a mix of patience and fierce urgency like he’s marking you as his own. every wet, desperate moan you let out feels like an invitation to go deeper, to push harder and nicholas never says no to that. his hands roam your curves possessively, sliding up your sides, cupping your breasts, and tracing the line of your jaw before locking back on your hips to hold you steady. he leans forward, lips brushing your neck and whispering low and rough, “you’re mine, soaked all over me like this. don’t forget who’s got you.” he grins darkly, thrusting deep and hard, chasing every pulse and twitch your muscles give him, driving you further and further past the edge. the slick heat between you makes every thrust slick and effortless, but nicholas’s grip is firm, his control absolute. he won’t stop until your legs shake and your breath’s ragged, leaving you trembling and completely wrecked beneath him, dripping with need and satisfaction.

euijoo: ej’s breath hitches hard when he feels your walls clamp around him, hot liquid flooding his cock deep inside. but instead of pulling out, he grips your waist like he’s never letting go, cock sinking deeper with every merciless thrust. his hands roam possessively down your body, fingers pressing into your hips and thighs as he holds you flush against him. his voice drops low, thick with raw need as he rasps, “fuck, you’re too good. can’t get enough of this.” his hips snap fast and hard, relentless, slamming into you like he’s marking you, claiming every inch. the slick heat between you makes every movement slick and wild, but ej’s grip is ironclad, his control fierce. he drags you closer with every thrust, biting into your shoulder as you shudder and cry out. he’s ruthless, chasing every pulse and twitch your body throws at him, driving you higher and higher without pause. you can feel the tension building in his chest, hear the low growls rumbling in his throat as he pushes you to the edge again and again. then he pulls back just enough to capture your lips in a bruising kiss, voice rough as he murmurs, “come on, baby. scream for me.” and with that, he buries himself deeper, fucking you through your orgasms until you’re trembling beneath him,.

yuma: yuma’s playful smirk fades the moment he feels your muscles clamp tightly around him, followed by the warm, wet gush that coats his cock deep inside you. he doesn’t pull out. instead, he yanks you flush against him, pressing chest to chest as his hips slam into yours with brutal force. his hands grip your hips possessively, fingers digging into the soft flesh as he starts grinding hard, slow at first, then faster, matching every shudder you throw his way. his thumb slides down, brushing your clit in rhythm with his pounding, teasing you mercilessly. “so messy already… and i’m nowhere near done, baby.” his voice is low, husky, dripping with need as he buries himself deeper inside you, chasing every pulse, every desperate gasp. you can feel the tension building between you, the heat in his eyes blazing as he tightens his grip, pulling you impossibly closer. he loves how you tremble beneath him, how your moans turn frantic and pleading with every thrust, and he makes sure to push you to the edge. again and again, without mercy. “don’t even think about stopping now.” he growls, fucking you through every quiver until you’re a shivering, soaked mess tangled up in his arms, completely his and dripping with need.

jojo: jo’s breath hitches the moment he feels you clamp down and flood him with warmth, slick and hot around his cock. but he doesn’t pull out. no, he holds you tight, hips snapping deep and hard inside you like he’s marking you as his own. his hands grip your waist possessively, fingers digging into your skin as he leans close, lips brushing your ear with a low, rough whisper, “fuck, you’re drowning me but i don’t give a damn.” he grits his teeth, thrusting relentlessly, each slam sending you closer to the edge. your moans and cries are like a fire to him, and he rides every pulse and tremor your body throws at him, refusing to let up. his hips move faster, more urgent, pounding into you with a fierce hunger, as if the world could end and he’d still be inside you, claiming you fully. his lips trail down your neck, teeth grazing your skin as he murmurs, “you’re mine.” he bites down gently before pushing you back against him, voice thick with need as he drives you through wave after wave of pleasure. your slickness coats him fully, but it only makes him grip you tighter, deeper, fucking you until you’re gasping and trembling beneath him. wrecked.

harua: harua’s breath catches deep the moment he feels your body clench around him and then flood him with warmth, slick and sticky coating his cock. he doesn’t pull out. no, instead he buries himself deeper, slow and steady, savoring every tremble and pulse your body gives him. his hands grip your waist firmly, holding you steady as he starts pumping in and out with measured, punishing thrusts. the low hum vibrating in his throat mixes with your moans, sending shivers down your spine. his eyes close briefly, savoring the way you shudder and cry out beneath him, completely lost to the pleasure he’s giving. “you’re so fucking perfect like this.” his voice is rough and thick with need as he leans down to kiss the nape of your neck, his teeth grazing your skin. every movement is deliberate, possessive. his hips pressing harder into yours as he chases your spasms, riding you through every orgasm without pause. he loves the way your slick heat coats him, the way your muscles clamp around him desperately, and he doesn’t want it to end. with every thrust, he pulls you impossibly closer, claiming you like the only thing that matters. your breath comes fast, ragged, and harua keeps going. unyielding, dominant, worshipping every inch of you until you’re a trembling, soaked mess tangled up in his arms, utterly wrecked.

taki: taki’s breath catches when he feels your walls clamp around him, hot liquid flooding his cock deep inside.he grips your hips tight, holding you close like he never wants to let go. every thrust is deep and powerful, slamming into you with a fierce hunger that makes your head spin. his voice drops low and rough, dripping with need as he growls, “you’re too good to stop now.” his hands grip your hips like iron, lifting you slightly, pressing you down with every slam of his hips. the slick mess between you only fuels his fire, making every movement wetter and more urgent. his cock throbs inside you, pulsing with every desperate cry and quiver you give him. he’s relentless, chasing your orgasms like a predator hunting its prey, pushing you higher and higher without mercy. the way you tremble and gasp beneath him only makes him want to own you more fully, claim every inch of you with his relentless thrusts. then he leans in, lips brushing your ear as he rasps, “come on, baby. don’t stop now.” and with that, he buries himself deeper, fucking you through wave after wave of pleasure until you’re a soaked, shaking mess completely his.

maki: maki doesn’t slow down when he feels you squirt. in fact, he fucking loses it. your walls clench around him and soak his cock mid-thrust, and instead of pulling out, he grabs you by the throat and growls, “you think that means i’m done?” he shoves you flat on your stomach, pinning you down with one hand while the other fists in your hair. his pace goes brutal. no rhythm, no mercy, just raw, punishing thrusts that have you screaming into the sheets. the wet squelch of your release fills the room, but maki doesn’t care. he’s not stopping until you’re ruined. his voice drips with mockery, “made a fuckin’ mess, and now you’re gonna lie there and take it.” he presses in deeper, balls slapping against your soaked cunt as he fucks you through every twitch and tremble. you’re crying, legs shaking, body overstimulated. but maki doesn’t let up. if anything, he fucks you harder. you squirt again, and this time he laughs. not soft, but dark and cocky. “yeah, that’s it. cry on my dick. you’re not going anywhere till i say so.” and he means it. he’ll keep your legs open, body trembling, until he’s sure you can’t even remember how it felt to not have him inside you.

“ Sato-Ahh~ I can’t— I can’t please pull out for a minute. Lemme - ugh! Mmm.”, Your moans were a ballad to him, a beautiful ballad. Gojo leaned down to kiss your bruised, puffy lips as he slowed down his strokes. Only then long stroking inside of your sloppy cunt. His cum was already painted over your pussy and he still had the energy to keep going. It was so painfully good because you two have been at this for about— shit who are you kidding you lost track.

Gojo knew he was digging inside of your stomach because of your juices traveling down his big cock, “ fucking pussy is eating on my dick. You’re that eager to take me in your stomach, Yeah? Don’t leave me hanging here love, Answer me.” You were speechless and couldn’t even talk— especially when he rolled his hips in a perfect circle, pausing to fuck his dick inside of you with the speed you never knew he had.

Tears danced in your pretty eyes, eventually dancing down your big apple cheeks causing Gojo to lick them off as he snapped his hips into yours. Your body vibrations were the topping to his cake. “ Got your breath took away, huh? Didn’t answer me-mmm- but you’re still so pretty for me, perfect pussy taking me deep.” Gojo slapped your pussy with his clean, pretty hands. “ You’re crying too? Such a big baby while taking my cock. Come on, just a little more for me, cherry pie.”

Gojo rose up again, smiling at you, “ No matter what anyone says, you’re beautiful, fucking gorgeous to me, especially when you’re taking my cock inside of that warm pussy of yours. Gotta say, Angel, you’re holding on so well.” His words of affirmation did nothing but make you squirt on his dick like a fire hydrant on a hot sunny day. “Perfect. Perfect. Perfect. Gojo was chanting the words like the crowd chanting for their teams on a game night, only whispering it against your face when he bent down again. His moans were getting louder as he braced himself to cum anywhere in or on your body.

Soon Gojo’s long, slender fingers intertwined with your chubby fingers as his white hair clouded his vision from seeing you squirm and come undone underneath him. He stopped fucking you with a loud and long groan, pulling out of you when some of his cum got inside of you. He wanted some of his fluid inside of you and on top of your chubby body. Your pretty tummy with stretch marks was now being drowned with his white , thick cum. Gojo’s body was shaking drastically as he stroked his cock above you, “ Fuck, Shit! So so good. My chubby bunny. Such a good- mmmgh!- little slut. My good little slut.”

He stopped stroking his thick, pretty cock once all of his cum came out of his body and onto yours. Yours and his chest was rising and falling harshly. His red flushed face was an art you admired even through diamond like a vision from your pretty teary eyes. Gojo chuckled— watching you try to get your vision back by whipping your eyes. His big, rough hands grabbed your wrist, you should’ve known from his little smirk on his face, he’ll say the one thing you hated being called during sex, "My little crybaby as well.”

Gojo was now just staring at your body with his blue Crystal like eyes. He studied the different areas your stretch marks appeared at. He licked his lips at your body rising and falling slowly now. Your cute double chin was so admirable to him. He was in love with you. Maybe even obsessed. He fucking adored your chubby little body. If this is what it means to be a chubby chaser then he’s at the top of the list. Maybe even in the VIP section with Geto, Toji, and Nanami.

Tagging: @shunsuist @happygoluckyalexis @honeybleed ( my baby I am so sorry for not tagging you when I put this out, forgive me) @mastermindenoshimaalicia @cybercandy1 @simpingfor-wakasa @angelshub and anyone else who wants to be tagged in drabbles

you wouldn’t have heard his mumble if not for the enclosed space you both find yourselves in — his car.

admittedly, a roaring loud, glorious thing with five percent tinted windows, sparkling, black rims, and smoked out tail lights, you’ll be honest, at first sight of his hellcat parked outside at the curb in front of your apartment, it intimidated you.

ony intimidates you.

and he shouldn’t. you know that he shouldn’t and you know that if you were to tell him that he’d take it to offense more than anything because, simply, that’s just the type of guy he is, he never wants to scare you or hurt you in any type of way, howbeit . . you can’t help it.

you think it’s his beauty, above all — above his towering, six foot three stature, his broad shoulders, and the heavy paws of hands.

it’s the way his skin, dark and smooth, not a blemish, scar, or bruise in plain sight obscuring your vision from the way it glistens beneath the rays of the sun and moon alike, bathing him golden then blue. it’s the thick pillows of his lips, top the same shade as the rest of him though the bottom . . a gorgeous, dark pink — reminding you of the sweet insides of a ripened lychee and the brindled bristles of his straight eyebrows.

naturally, below them are his eyes. you find that they’re actually quite big . . however, lazy. the lids fall halfway into them, partially shielding two, bottomless pools of dark brown where stars and suns dance beneath. your own grow a bit heavy, watching his hands pull the blunt closer up to his mouth so that the tip of his tongue can primly graze the edge of the paper — back and forth . . back and forth.

it’s sudden.

there’s a moment when his eyes shift to the right so that he can look at you, directly into yours while he does so.

you think it’s only right that you look away once those butterflies in your tummy rouse and their wings begin to flap near the speed of light. you think one manages to flutter all the way up from the chasm of your stomach to your throat — makes you have to softly clear it, during which the same time you attempt to busy your brain by focusing on something else.

the waves, you think.

watch the waves.

the car is parked on the peak of a hill — overlooking the shore. you love the beach. you love the ocean.

when getting the call from ony over two hours ago that he was coming to pick you up, for no reason at all either, you both hadn’t planned a date this week, but just because he wanted to see you . . . you suppose that the feelings for the boy sitting beside you finally had cemented.

scented of sweet cocoa butter and vetiver, his aroma had hit you the moment you clicked yourself into the seatbelt and you presume that was what also cemented them, as well.

however, now coming to think of it, it could be the way his hand slips inside of yours so that he can interlace his fingers within the spaces of your own come any time the two of you are walking alongside each other. it could be the way his lips peck sweet kisses along your temple when he pulls you into his arms every morning as a greeting when picking you up for class. it could be the lingering stares across the field as he takes a breather while seated upon a bench as you pull an arm across your chest during cheer practice.

it could be a lot of things, you realize.

“you think too much.”

“. . huh?”

you look back over at him and to his hands once more. holding a matte black lighter, his thumb flicks across the spark wheel — once, twice — until a tall, wading flame lurches from the valve. “gotta get outta’ y’head, mama,” he mumbles while stroking the blaze to and fro over the chubby end of the blunt until the drug and paper begin to blacken over as they burn. he eyes it the entire time. “. . or let me in there sometimes.”

when it’s lit, he pulls it up to his lips and takes a long drag, redirecting his sight back onto you.

you’re fascinated, attentive and keen, eyeing the way a stream of grey smoke, seemingly encompassing the texture of water pours from his mouth until his nostrils are quickly pulling it back in. “i don’t think you’d like it in here,” you quietly respond, turning your body more towards his way while folding a leg underneath your butt.

ony tosses the lighter within an empty cup holder, now using his free hand to rub across the plum colored, crushed velvet fabric of his durag. “i doubt that.” he sniffs again, reclines his seat back a little more, then spreads his legs wider when more space is provided. “c’mon . . wassup.”

you can’t tell him what you’re really thinking — about how you’ve been stroking your stupid, little fingers over your throbbing clit every night . . a hoodie of his that he gave you, threads still holding traces of his body wash and cologne, pulled up to your nose as you imagined his body on top of yours. you can’t tell him just how needy you’ve been — how one evening you’ve cried because of just how empty your poor, little cunt was and how you’d been two seconds away from calling him in the dead of the night, blubbering about how bad you just wanted him to touch you.

“football’s fun, right?”

it’s the first subject your frenzied brain landed upon. you can tell you catch him a little bit by surprise because his eyebrows lift, prior to them folding in.

you feel your cheeks burning, “it makes you happy?”

his returned smile is bright and pretty. he chuckles, “shit, i mean . . yeah. it does.” he takes another drag, a shorter one.

“yeah?” you lay the side of your head against the seat’s upper cushion. “you’re gonna make it pro,” you mumble. “i see it.”

“don’t gas my head up, lil girl,” he utters in reply, fingers pushing a button on the door on his side to crack his window and ventilate the car. he doesn’t need you getting high, you have a quiz tomorrow.

your giggle is sweet and soft, “mm-mm, i see those recruiters in the stands at almost every game. you’re gonna be in the big leagues soon, ony.”

“hopefully.”

“undoubtedly.”

ony shakes his head slowly, slight smirk pulling at his lips. you’re so fucking cute to him. “speakin’ of the games,” he starts, tone, as always, quiet and low. “you let me know if somebody botherin’ you, alright?”

you’re twirling a braid around your finger and you nod your head immediately come his question, “mhm . . why you say that?”

once more, he shakes his head, taking a hit with his eyes focused outside of the windshield at the glistening ocean, “. . i be seein’ how some people look at you, ‘s all,” he mutters over the smoke in his chest. “they ain’t never said somethin’ slick towards you, right?”

you genuinely think it over, glossy lips pouted and eyes focused upwards as your fingers lace a few of your braids between them. so fucking cute. “mm, no,” you whisper. “no, they jus’ . .” you snort a little laugh here. “stare.”

you make the corner of ony’s lips rise after he blows out the smoke, “why you laugh?”

you snicker, “ ‘cause it’s all they ever do. it’s all you ever did.”

at the slow sound of him smacking his lips and sucking some air between his teeth, you only giggle louder. “man.” quietly, ony drags the word out underneath his breath. “you tryna’ say ion got game or some’n?”

“no, no. i mean,” you smile and shyly shrug. “ ‘m in your car, right?”

that’s true.

ony thinks he has to owe it all to the shots of hennessy and ciroc that allowed him to finally build up the courage and talk to you that night two months ago at a friend’s kickback. mixing dark and light liquor, he should’ve known better, albeit, you looked too good that night — cozy and cute in a tight, white short romper, crocheted, pink shrug cover up and your chestnut toned, platform uggs.

he wanted to approach you more suavely . . nice and calm.

but that fucking liquor . . .

“i can’t go two more fuckin’ semesters without makin’ you mine.”

your eyes had widened when the abrupt statement left his lips and the friends flanked at your sides quickly dispersed, leaving the both of you alone at the bottom of the staircase, shrouded within your own little bubble.

from then on, he’s carved a hole in the shape of you within his life, within his everyday routine, and you, him.

“c’mere.”

ony pats his lap while stubbing out the blunt within his car’s constituted ashtray. he watches you hesitate — your eyes flick over his loose, black cargos and the zip up he wears before you begin to move, slow and careful. ony helps you crawl over, making sure you don’t bump your head or break a nail, goodness knows he’s hyperaware of the latter . . he doesn’t want to see you cry tonight, and when you’re nice and situated, he relaxes and folds an arm behind his head, simply staring up at you.

he has no real reason for pulling you over here . . . he just wants a closer look at your pretty face.

and when he sees that familiar, shy smile start to spread across your lips, his own follows. you hide your laugh behind a hand, “you look so high.”

it’s true. his eyes are heavily rimmed with a ring of pink and they’re heavy, they make his blinks slow and gentle. “yeah?” he rubs a dense hand down across his face.

“mhm,” you hum and he feels you leaning in closer. “you okay, onya’?”

“mmm.” he groans, low and long after inhaling a breath through his nose. “. . say it again.”

lazily, his arm now drapes over his eyes. “hm?” your fingers toy with the gold, rope chain he wears that dangles a rectangular emblem with an engraved ‘ O ‘ within it. tenderly, you rub your thumb across it while asking, “say what? . . your name?”

“mhm.”

you like to tease. you always have. you’re giggling when you sweetly sing, “ony, ony, ony. onyaaa . . . onyankopon — mmph!”

how swiftly he manages to wrap his hand around your throat and pull you in until the rounded peak of your nose halts only an inch before his is staggering. your eyes are wide, plump lips popped open, and voice caught in your chest — ony adores it all. he bites his bottom lip while smirking a bit. “yeah,” he mumbles underneath his breath, giving one, nice squeeze then you a little shake before letting go. “keep playin’.”

distantly, you can hear the steady, calming melody of lauryn hill’s the sweetest thing playing feeble and small from the car’s speakers, lyrics all but hushed mumbles. beneath them is your next inhale, trembly and quiet.

across your body, a rushing heat travels south. warmth pools within your panties, sticky and wet and the feeling makes you give a slight mewl while shifting, hoping he hadn’t felt it.

ony adjusts his legs when you do, the both of you looking down watching you sink a little lower in his lap as he widens them just a bit more. “you straight?” he asks softly. “wanna move back—“

“—no, no,” you shake your head, cheeks heating up at the rate of how fast you blurted out the two lettered word. “ ‘m . . ‘m comfy.”

“mm.” his hands slide up your thighs to your waist. he admires your fit — a pink oversized crewneck, white biker shorts, and pair of ‘ barbie ‘ ones. large, gold, heart shaped hoops dangle from your ears and a layer of gold chains hang from your neck. you’re so pretty. he likes how glittering tinsel had been intertwined within your braiding hair . . it makes them shimmer beneath the silver moonlight and he revels in how your long, wispy lashes induces your eyes to appear more flirtatious. “i’d fuckin’ kill for you, man,” he utters against the skin of your collar bone.

he feels his heart pounding in his chest when you press yourself closer.

“mm, yeah?” you whisper, all coy and sweet . . like you don’t know just how much ony adores you. “you would?”

his tone is near the same volume as yours when he retorts, “yeah . . — i really like you.”

your small palm rubs over his durag and he shivers at the feel of your nails beginning to scratch along his nape. “really like you too, ony,” he can hear the pout in your voice. “like you so much.”

“ ‘s that right?”

“mhm.”

ony tilts his head up and you’re suddenly hyper aware of just how close the both of your faces are. you can see the tiny hairs that make up his mustache above his upper lip, just how long and pretty his eyelashes were, his fucking eyes. you think you’re holding your breath, watching them shift down to your lips when you unconsciously begin to nibble upon the lower.

you feel his arms envelop you completely. they wrap around your back and he grabs hold of his own elbows to suddenly tug you flushed against him. you both are chest to chest.

“. . don’t do that,” you mumble.

“do what?” he slowly pulls his bottom lip underneath his teeth, gazing at you beneath his lids.

“that.”

“ ‘m chillin’.”

“no, you not—“

“—yeah, yeah.”

he pecks your lips first, quick yet tenderly. it’s enough to quiet you down. “ ‘s what i thought,” he utters, tilting his head to give you another, listening to the way you hiccup. “shut that shit up.”

the speed of which your kissing progresses starts steady until the two of you are a hair away from, what your best friend ymir would describe, sucking each other’s faces off. you’re squirming, lifting up higher on your knees while holding the sides of his face between your two hands. he tilts his head back to accommodate your new height, squeezing your hips within his own hands as your tongues push and pull against one another.

he tastes like weed and peppermint — sharp and dull. you all but sag against him when he pulls you even closer by the fabric of your crewneck as his tongue, warm and soft, beckons your own into his mouth.

you’re aware that you both are inching into a terrain unknown. you’ve kissed before, sure, but never like this.

you can taste how bad ony wants. you feel how he holds himself back, muscles flexing and rippling beneath your fingertips. it only makes your poor clit pound a little harder against the soft cotton of your panties. your mind grows hazy — usual finesse and sense dwindled into nothing.

you hadn’t known when you started rocking your hips along his lap — slowly pushing and pulling them back and forth. “n-nah,” you hear ony swallow. everything sounds muffled. you can only focus on how good it feels to have the button and zipper of his cargos rubbing up against you just right, how nice it felt to feel his hands on you, to touch him as well.

your mind is gone.

ony watches you tilt your head back, eyes still closed as you worked yourself just the slightest bit quicker and — fuck, the sight is beautiful. your chest is heaving and he feels how hard you’re gripping his jacket at his shoulders within your little fists. he can also make out how wet you are . . thinks he fucking hears the slushing soppiness over the music playing. “mama,” he takes your thigh in a death grip. he needs you to stop. “baby . . c’mon.”

“f-feels so,” your tiny gasp is shaky. “good though, ony.”

“yeah,” he breathes and looks down, watching your hips move with the fluidity only found in water. you roll and rock and press . . his dick feels like it’s throbbing. “not here though . . i don’t want our first time to be in my fucking car, baby.” you deserve better than that.

you hear him, you do. “b-but—“

“—but nothin’.” he establishes a firm grip on your lower half, completely stilling you. “chill.”

you’re frowning . . of course you are. you utter out a soft ‘ okay, ‘ leaning back against the steering wheel with your arms folded and subtle amusement dances within the chocolate of ony’s eyes while you do.

you fucking brat.

he feels you still trembling, even given your downturned lips and huffy demeanor, you still ache for him. it wouldn’t be right to drive you back home like this.

“hop in the back.”

your eyes snap from outside the window back to his own, “. . what?”

“we not fuckin’,” he shakes his head and gives two quick taps to your thigh before motioning to his spacious backseat with his thumb. “nah, my ma’ raised me better than that.”

“what are we doin’ then?” you’re turning sheepish again — curling into yourself, biting your lip.

“i can show you better than i could tell you.”

come less than five minutes later, the both of you are nestled within his backseat. your shoes have been kicked off, shorts thrown somewhere up towards the front and your little panties, white with pink, lace trim and printed with fucking teddy bears are pulled to the side. ony has you folded up — actually folded up, knees an inch away from touching the lobes of your ears and your toes grazing the window of the door behind you.

you lay directly upon the seat behind the passenger’s while he sits abaft the driver’s, tilted your way, and head lowered so that he’s able to slip his soft, warm tongue between the thick lips of your pussy with no problem.

you hear bells ringing in your ears.

he works slow — teasing yet thorough, moving his head with his tongue . . softly humming as he breathes and tongue kisses the pearled bud of your clit with slick puckering tenors. your toes curl at the sight of it all. his beard glistens with your wetness and his hands grip the cheeks of your ass, spreading them a bit wider when his tongue slips a bit lower so that he can slowly lave the flat plane of it across the knitted hole, all while his darkened eyes gauge your expression the entire time.

your fingers dig into the cushion of the armrest behind you as you arch your back, voice almost shockingly high.

“mm,” he pulls his head back while licking his lips as his fingers reach up to spread your lips apart to have better access to your clit. “taste so fuckin’ good . . why you taste so fuckin’ good?” he rubs it with his thumb, watching the rigid nub press against the pad of it as he works it in steady circles. a tinge of pink peeks out from within the cushion of brown . . it’s so fucking hard, he knows that it hurts. “pretty ass pussy.”

you whine, holding onto the back of your knees, not wanting them in his way. “o-ony.”

he looks down at you, “what?” he whispers, leaning his head back towards your pulsing cunt. “what you wanted, mm?”

you weep when his tongue finds your hole — he slides the tip of it inside . . pulling it out then working it deeper while the peak of his nose bumps against your clit, implanting well needed friction. “o-oh shit,” your voice is so tiny and broken. it’s fucking precious. “o-ony — mm, please.”

your hips are bucking up into his mouth so that you can work your pussy over his tongue, back and forth, back and forth. you’re surprised when a loud smack! suddenly rings throughout the car while a sizzling outline of a handprint begins to form upon the soft skin of your ass cheek.

“stop movin’,” he demands quietly, speaking around a mouthful of your drooling pussy. he wants to indulge because now that he has a taste, he isn’t sure that he wants to give you up anytime soon.

you tilt your head, eyebrows furrowed and mouth wide open, watching him let a frothy dribble of his spit drip from his lips right onto your clit, followed once more by his tongue.

the sounds he makes are filthy.

nothing but slush’s and smacks and puckers and hums. your eyes roll into the back of your head come his fingers digging deep enough into your skin that you’re sure of bruises blossoming come the next morning. “unh, don’t stop,” you grab the cap of his durag, tugging on it incessantly. “daddy, don’t stop.”

another smack . . though this time even harder than the one before.

it makes you choke on an inhale as your body jolts with the impact. you don’t need him to say it because come the next time you look down, ony’s already staring back up at you, eyes knowing albeit fuzzed over. he looks almost as gone as you. “g-god, ‘ve never,” you swallow, eyes closed. “never f-felt so good, onya’.”

even while you talked, little trills and whimpers still bubbled at the back of your throat.

ony sways his head from left to right, slipping his tongue down once more for another taste of your tight rim upon the sight of saliva and your slick dripping from your role, down the seam of your ass. “mhm,” he hums to show that he’s listening. “never got this pretty pussy sucked on the right way, mama?”

“uh - uh,” you sniffle.

“can tell.”

he lets his palm fall down on your clit for a quick swat. both, the sound and feeling makes your body thrash. “eeek — w-why did you . .”

he does it again, holding your legs out of his way when they threaten to fall. it isn’t the sensation of his hand slapping at your clit that makes you blush, it’s more of the sight. your pussy recoils with each spank, weakly gushing out little shots of pearly white cream.

“yeah, you like this shit,” ony mumbles, letting the tip of his middle finger stroke along your hole. “feels good, hm? . . yes or no?”

you feel depraved. you don’t think you should enjoy this so much, nonetheless, you do.

you’re hiding your face behind your knees, eyes tightly shut. ony lets his hand fall down onto your pussy a bit harder, watching the way you jolt once more. “y-yes,” you blubber out, whiny and feeble. “it does, ony.”

“yeah,” he huffs out, enamored by the sight of your thighs, sleek and damp, your ass, your pussy. it’s all fucking beautiful to him. “daddy can tell.”

when his tongue is returned back onto your cunt, you can tell he’s working with more vigor now. both his hands hold onto your calves, pushing them further up and gripping them tight so that they keep out of his way. it makes you hold onto his forearms, little hands locked onto the firm muscle for your own sanity. “ohmygod,” you mewl, arching your back come a new technique that has his tongue sliding down from your clit, into your hole where he pushes it inside for a quick taste then back up so that he’s able to suckle the thumping nub between his soft lips.

“j-jus’ like that,” you’re babbling and winded, breaths choppy. “oh g-goodness, ony — waitwaitwait.”

your hands go for his shoulders, pushing him back when arrives that familiar plummeting feeling of your gut. his hand smacks your ass . . hard — one, two, three times, prior to that same one grabbing the both of your wrists to squeeze them in his hold. the actions are all so quick, you’d only taken two breaths by the time it’s done.

his eyebrows are lowered when he mumbles, “man, don’t fuckin’ play w’me,” he spanks your clit and you sob. “don’t push me, ma’, are you crazy?”

“i — jus’ . .” you squirm. “ ‘m sorry, feels too—“

“—‘m not stoppin’,” he utters, mouth already occupied by your clit. “not stoppin’ ‘til i’m full.”

you don’t know what you’ve gotten yourself into. you’re blubbing, voice soft and high at the feel of his middle finger slowly gliding deep inside of your pussy, immediately curling up in search for that one, special spot that he knew’d have you seeing pink suns. “daddy p-please, no —“ you hiccup. “c-can’t take it, wait.”

it’s all so much . . too much. each breath is a gasp, each movement is a shudder. pleasure onslaughts your entire body, taking over your mind and everything within it.

you’re rendered speechless come him moving his head with his tongue once more, up and down while his finger pushes in and out, stroking the inside of your cunt beautifully. cream builds up, cascading out of your hole, sapidity of tart icing.

his eyes are locked on your face the entire time. it seems as though you’re frozen, eyes shut, mouth open, body still, until he sees your eyebrows furrowing in closer and closer as your bod begins to wound tight — similar to a slingshot being pulled further and further back. “mhm,” he hums, encouraging you for what he knows is about to happen. “mhm . . there you go.”

you cum with a hard inhale, fingernails digging deep into your palms as your entire body quivers underneath the pad of his clever tongue. “unh . . hng — oh g-god.”

ony pushes it all out of you quickly, working his digit and his tongue the more he feels your cunt squeezing and releasing. it flows out of you, sticky and wet . . seemingly never ending.

you’re exhausted by the come down, heaving as though you’ve been out of air for hours. you feel ony finally pull back and let your wrists go. you’re thankful, due to the fact that you hadn’t known when tears had fell down your eyes, albeit, you’re glad to finally wipe them away and blink your blurry sight back clear to focus on the boy in front of you.

he’s licking his lips, wiping his chin, already focused on you.

“alright.”

you watch him unzip his jacket, pulling it off of him. you’ve made a mess of him — dewy wetness had managed to even drip down the strong column of his neck to his chest. “c’mon,” when he softly slaps your thigh, you’re perplexed. he reads it all over your face and it makes his own eyebrows pull in close. “. . who told you i was done? . . flip over, hands and knees.”

“w-what?”

ony doesn’t repeat himself. he simply moves you — pulling you up, flipping you over, pushing his hand down onto your back so that your chest presses against the seat with one word uttered, ‘ arch. ‘

your eyes are frenzied. you reach back, hand gripping onto his cargos, “d-daddy, you can’t be serious—“ you thought he’d be done. it’s twelve am.

you can hear him shuffling again as his hands pull off of his plain, black tee. “meant what i said,” is all he mumbles in reply. “you gon’ be good,” he gives two pats to your ass, akin to the way a guy’d pat the hood of a car to signal someone to drive off. he knows you will. you may be tired but your soft, little pussy isn’t and he isn’t neither. “i got you, mama. jus’ relax.”

relax. he wrecks havoc on your mind, body, and soul each time his tongue let alone touches your clit. you want to cry come the sight of an hour inching into two . . then two and a half. sweat glistens upon your body as your knees press into the seat on either sides of ony’s head. one of his hands squeezes your tit while the other has hold of your ass, making you rock yourself along the surface of his tongue.

he can’t feel bad for you come the sounds of your stupid, little babbles and the sight of your tear covered face. ‘cause ain’t this what you wanted?