#popstar!reader

summary: jack is arrested at your show for being too hot

pairing: jack abbot x popstar!reader

warnings: mdni!, no use of y/n, VERY suggestive, cursing, fanboy whitaker, dirty jokes, not proofread

word count: 1.6k

author's note: my babies asked and they shall have pt. 2 !! lmk if u catch why it was that position :)) i wrote this after driving 3 hours just listening to short n sweet on repeat. ty so much for reading !!

part 1 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6

Jack doesn't have a clue what he's doing right now.

The PPG Paints Arena in Pittsburgh is a mirage to him. A glittery, pink mirage. He could bet $1000 that he's the oldest person in the arena that came here alone.

Well, alone if you don't count Santos and Whitaker.

He thought you were joking a couple days ago when you were high on morphine and begging your manager to send him free tickets to your show the following Monday. It wasn't until he got an email from someone on your team, an email reading 'IMPORTANT: THREE (3) VIP TICKETS FOR DR. ABBOT', that he realized you were serious.

summary: robby can't help but show you off to one of his patients when Perlah reveals that he's engaged.

pairings: romantic!michael robinavitch x reader

word count: 1k

technically a part of this universe but can fully be read as a standalone, no knowledge of that storyline necessary here :)

listen to the playlist

join the taglist

cw: typical warnings that apply to the pitt (mention of a burn injury, hospital setting), fluff even though you aren't actually physically present for this interaction, reader has hair long enough to be clipped back in a nondescript way

!!!!!!contains spoilers for season 2 under the cut!!!!!!

Just Off Stage

Pairing; Joe keery x Popstar!Reader

Summary; Joe supports his girlfriend through her first time headlining Coachella.

A/N; Pure Joe fluff, also I fear im too British to know the ins and outs of Coachella so I apologise if it's not completely accurate.

The heat hits differently at Coachella, not just warm, but dry and constant, like it’s stitched into your skin. Even backstage at the Empire Polo Club, the air hums with it. Dust clings to your ankles, your lip gloss tastes faintly like SPF, and somewhere nearby, someone’s spraying Sol de Janeiro that barely cuts through the smell of hot cables, sunscreen, and sun-baked grass. Golf carts buzz past in short bursts, radios crackle, and the bass from the Main Stage bleeds through everything, low, steady, impossible to ignore.

You’re halfway through vocal warmups when you hear the crowd shift, like a wave rolling across the field. Not louder, just different. Anticipation building between sets.

“Hey,” a familiar voice cuts through it.

You turn, already smiling.

Joe Keery leans against the trailer door like he’s been there a while, artist wristband loose around his wrist, sunglasses pushed up into his hair, a half-empty water bottle dangling from his hand. He looks out of place in the best way, too calm for somewhere this chaotic, like he wandered in from a quieter version of the day.

“You’re supposed to be on tomorrow,” you say, stepping closer, gravel crunching under your boots.

“I know,” he shrugs, easy. “Thought I’d come watch you headline my weekend early.”

You huff a small laugh, nerves easing just slightly.

“Bold of you to assume you’re the main character.”

“Wow,” he winces, pressing a hand to his chest. “Right before your set? Cold.”

But he’s smiling, that slightly crooked smile that cuts through the noise.

A stage manager calls your name, louder this time. Two minutes.

Your stomach drops, sharper now.

Joe notices immediately. “Nervous?”

You hesitate, then nod. “It’s Coachella. Everyone’s watching. It’s… a lot.”

He glances out toward the Main Stage, where the crowd stretches further than you can properly see, just a blur of moving colour, crochet, mesh, glitter catching the late afternoon sun.

“Yeah,” he says. “But they showed up for you.”

You follow his gaze. Flags waving, people on shoulders, phones already raised.

“They don’t know what you’re about to do yet,” he adds. “That’s the best part.”

You exhale slowly, dry air catching in your throat.

“Stay?” you ask, quieter.

“Barrier,” he says instantly. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

The second you step onto the Main Stage, it hits you all at once.

Light. Heat. Noise.

The LED screens flare to life behind you, gold and white washing everything out for a second. The desert sun hasn’t fully dipped yet, so it mixes with the stage lights, warm on your face, almost blinding. The bass kicks up through the platform into your legs, grounding you, familiar as your own pulse.

And then you find him.

Right at the barrier, wedged between fans and security, exactly where he said he’d be. No sunglasses now. Just watching you, steady, focused, like none of this scale fazes him.

It steadies you.

Your first note cuts clean across the field, carried by the dry air. The crowd responds instantly, louder than you expect, a wall of sound pushing back at you, but you lean into it, letting it carry you forward.

Song after song, the set blurs into movement, heat, and light. Sweat gathers at the base of your neck, sliding down your spine. Your hair sticks to your temples, glitter catching under the lights every time you move. The mic is warm in your hand, almost hot, your rings pressing into your fingers as you tighten your grip during bigger notes.

Every time you glance down, he’s still there, grinning when you switch up a run, mouthing lyrics he absolutely shouldn’t know.

During the bridge of a slower track, the crowd softens, just a little. You catch his eye mid-line, and he gives you this small, exaggerated nod, like go on. It pulls a real laugh out of you, airy and unplanned, straight into the mic.

The crowd reacts instantly, cheers lifting, energy shifting lighter.

A breeze cuts through the heat, lifting strands of your hair, cooling the sweat along your jaw. By the final song, the entire field is singing back, phones up, flashlights on, flickering like stars against the dimming sky.

The sound wraps around you.

And then it’s over.

Backstage, everything feels quieter but sharper. Your ears ring, your body still humming with leftover adrenaline. Sweat cools against your skin, leaving a faint chill as you move.

You barely make it two steps before Joe is there.

“That was- ” he starts, then shakes his head, laughing under his breath. “Yeah. That was really good.”

You’re still catching your breath. “Good insane or bad insane?”

He doesn’t answer, just pulls you into a quick, tight hug, one arm around your shoulders, the other settling at your waist. He’s warm, solid, the faint scent of his cologne mixing with dust and night air.

“Don’t do that,” he murmurs into your hair. “You know it was good.”

You smile against him, letting yourself lean in for a second longer than you probably should.

When he pulls back, his hands linger at your arms.

“Tomorrow,” you say, tilting your head. “Your turn.”

“Yeah,” he exhales, glancing back toward the stage like it suddenly feels heavier. “Might need you front row for that.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Obviously.”

He laughs, softer now.

For a moment, the chaos fades, the crews, the noise, the movement. It’s just this small pocket of quiet between you.

“Hey,” he says, like he’s deciding something.

“Yeah?”

“You were right.”

“About?”

“That spotlight thing.” He gestures vaguely toward the stage. “It’s not mine.”

You cross your arms, pretending to think. “Good. Glad we cleared that up.”

He leans in slightly, voice lower. “Doesn’t mean I don’t like standing in it with you, though.”

It’s subtle.

But it lands.

Later, once you’ve both swapped stage outfits for oversized hoodies and caps, you slip back into the crowd. The temperature has dropped just enough to feel good against your still-warm skin. The ground is cooler now, the dust softer under your trainers.

You grab iced drinks from the artist tent, cups slick with condensation, and drift toward the Sahara Tent, where a DJ is playing something low and atmospheric. The bass is softer here, more of a steady hum than a pulse.

You sit on a low barrier, shoulders brushing. Joe stretches his legs out, foot tapping lightly in time.

“Still buzzing?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you admit. “Main Stage takes a while to come down from.”

“Yeah,” he nods. “But watching you do it? Way better.” He glances at you. “That laugh during the bridge, the crowd loved that.”

You nudge his knee. “Your fault.”

“Worth it.”

Silence settles, easy. Somewhere in the distance, the headliner’s crowd roars, the sound rolling across the grounds like thunder.

Joe’s hand finds yours, fingers lacing together, his thumb brushing slow circles over your knuckles.

“Outdoor Theatre?” he asks. “Catch the end?”

You nod.

You walk over slowly, weaving through groups, sequins catching light, the smell of food stalls mixing with dust and night air. At the edge of the crowd, Joe stands behind you, one arm loose around your waist as warm guitar lines carry across the field.

You lean back into him, just slightly.

No big gestures. Just quiet.

When the set ends, fireworks crack overhead, gold and white bursting against the dark sky, echoing across the desert. You stay where you are. Joe’s arm tightens just a little.

“Next year we should line our sets up better,” he says casually. “Or not. This worked.”

You tilt your head back. “This worked.”

He hums, then presses a light kiss to your temple, quick, warm, easy.

Walking back toward the artist area, hoods up, caps low, the path is lit by soft strings of festival lights. Your footsteps fall in sync, hands still linked.

You’re mid-laugh when a flash goes off to your left.

Then another.

And another.

A small group of fans has spotted you, phones already up, excitement spilling over.

“It’s them!” someone says, snapping photos.

The flashes catch you both mid-step, your hand in his, shoulders brushing, your smile half-hidden.

Joe doesn’t let go. Just squeezes your hand and keeps walking, pace unchanged.

You glance up at him. “Guess we’re getting documented.”

“Yeah,” he says, dry. “At least it’s a good angle. You look good.”

You laugh under your breath, leaning into him slightly as the flashes fade behind you.

Further down the path, quieter now, he bumps your shoulder.

“Twitter in ten minutes.”

“Minimum,” you say. “Could be worse.”

He nods, thumb brushing your knuckles again. “Could be worse.”

Around you, Coachella keeps moving, music bleeding from every direction, lights flickering, people passing in waves, but with his hand in yours and that moment already out there, frozen somewhere online, everything feels balanced.

Loud and quiet at the same time.

Just right.

featuring . charles leclerc , rising popstar!reader , zara larsson fc , reader is friends with all of the pop girlies and wags , long-term rel. , mixed up dates / song releases to suit the plot , use of y/n . title from Zara Larsson’s Never Forget You . just a silly short smau!

author’s note . hi hi hi!! I made this in a bit of a fever dream so I hope it makes sense 😭 if you couldn't tell, zara larsson has been living rent free in my mind lately, so this is my ode to her. honestly, coming up with fan usernames was the hardest part. i'm not nearly creative enough for that, so I searched actually celebrity's insta comments 😭 anywhoodles, let me know what you guys think! Xx lando apocolypse au coming in the next fortnight, stay tuned!

my masterlist ·✶·

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

yourusername ✓

yourusername so so excited to announce my new album Midnight Sun comes out in 2 days, surprise! and, because I love u guys so much, peep some tour dates 🫣 tickets go on sale 10am local time monday. see u in a month Munich 🌞🌺🌞🌺🌞🌺🌞🌺🌞🌺 (time for some much needed sleep 💤 💤)

♥️ liked by sabrinacarpenter , tatemcrae and 1,231,670 others

charles_leclerc ✓ so proud. 🩷 ♥️ liked by author ⤷ lestappenlaurv I LOVE THEM ⤷ ferrariwdc best f1 couple ever mayhaps? ⤷ snoooopyfan16 no I love you? hmmmm very unlike him ⤷ leclercoholic you guys read waaaay to much into ts 😭🥀

maxverstappen1 ✓ wow, go y/n. always cheering you on 🌞 ♥️ liked by author

ynfan33 oh you are SERVINGGGGG YOU BETTER COME TO AUS ⤷ yourusername ✓ very soon my love 🌞🌺 ⤷ ynfan33 OMG HELLO WHAT

scuderiaferrari ✓ congrats gal, so excited! 🏎️❤️ ♥️ liked by author

sabrinacarpenter ✓ 😍🌞🌺🩷 ♥️ liked by author

Ilovemidnightsun can't wait! ⤷ ynfan11 album aint even out yet omg

carlossainz55 ✓ congrats y/n! 🌺 ♥️ liked by author

tatemcrae ✓ living for this era gal 🪽 ⤷ yourusername ✓ couldn't be a headline without opening for you! 🩷🩷

teamyn ✓ oh we are SO ready 🌺🌞🌺🌞🩷 ♥️ liked by author

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you sit down on the large brown chair directly across from alex. one leg is crossed over the other as you slightly lean back in your seat, feeling comfort wash over you.

podcasts were weirdly less daunting for you compared to interviews. you chopped it up to the fact that often interviews and late-night shows were pretty short, you always felt like you were never able to really show your actual personality, and you always worried that things you said would get taken out of context.

you knew that sitting down with alex cooper - notorious for her somewhat scandalous and sex-focussed interviews - would probably result to your name circulating the media in some way, but it wasn't exactly anything you weren't used to.

your bodyguard (and secret affair?) rafe was stood off to the side, talking with your manager, margaret, and assistant, emma. his arms were crossed over his chest as he looked down at them, nodding intently at whatever they were saying.

he felt your gaze and he turned his head, throwing you a charming smile and quick wink, before turning his head back to the conversation. you felt your heart speed up and your stomach flutter, but push it down, turning away.

alex, sat directly across from you, wore her signature unwell hoodie and sweatpants, while you wore dark wash, straight legged jeans, and a white, flowy, lacy top.

after giving your introduction to the camera, alex turns to you. "welcome to call her daddy!"

joe keery x fem!reader

a part of my childhood best friends au!

cw: suggestive content, not proofread

almost 2 decades and a billion break ups later, you indulged in a bit of… songwriting.

late nights at studio’s became a common reoccurrence for you. usually, you’d be with joe.

this time, you were with someone short n sweet.

you and sabrina had been friends for a couple of months and you were so endlessly grateful for her. having moved around quite a lot, you didn’t really have a fixed group of friends.

you never really minded because you had joe. once you befriended sabrina you forgot just how amazing it was to have a girl friend.

sure, you giggle and fangirl with joe, but he’s absolutely nothing like sabrina. she makes jokes and comments that throw you off and give you no choice but to double over in laughter.

you two were talking about your teenage days, her with her disney career, and you with… well, joe.

“i’m honestly not surprised you two have been in a 20 year situationship.”

“that is not what that was!” you denied immediately. “we just appreciated each other a lot and we didn’t know how to show it correctly.”

“appreciated.” she snorted. “sure.”

“brina!”

“okay, okay!” she giggled. “i’ll leave it be. just— tell me how you two were. i mean, joe’s a total romantic, i wouldn’t be surprised if he was the same as a 15 year old.”

“he was so cute and awkward.” you smile at the memory. “you know when you’re so smitten for someone you just wanna make them fall in love with you?”

“and you’re completely sure you aren’t balls deep in love with him?”

“do you wanna hear about it or no?”

sabrina huffed and laid back down on the couch. “yes.”

you told her about how he asked you out, your first date, how he showed up when you didn’t expect him to, and how he was always a friend first, boyfriend second.

there was one memory of you two you had tucked away in the deepest pits of your heart. it was of the day you realized you truly didn’t see a future without joe. the day you fell so hopelessly in love.

“there was this one time…” you trailed off, your smile only growing wider as you recall the memory. “remember when juno came out?”

“no.”

“oh.” you blinked.

she was 8 when it came out.

“god, i forget how young you are.” you huff sarcastically. “well, we watched it a couple weeks after it came out because he just wouldn’t budge! i ended up convincing him towards the start of 2008 and the idea of two me’s running around was very… prevalent?”

“oh my god, what then?” sabrina crossed her legs and leaned in, as if you were at a summer camp telling ghost stories.

you told her about how he said one of you is cute enough and how that made you melt internally, you told her how for a week straight he would walk around with a jacket bunched up under his shirt walking around yelling “you made me juno!”

sabrina slammed back down against the couch, “you two are just so… you need a romcom based off of you guys.”

you rolled your eyes. “how about a song?”

her eyes lit up and all previous attempts at trying to convince you to spill your undying love for joe went straight out the window.

you got the song done in a couple of days, sabrina purchasing a juno cake to celebrate. one that you had to hide from joe.

when the short n sweet tour came around, your feelings for joe bubbled up once more.

sabrina had told you her plan a week in advance. joe would be arrested for juno, but not by her. you would dress up as a backup dancer and pop up and arrest him instead.

you felt like two girls in middle school thinking of ways to get their crushes to look at them during lunch break.

“oh my goodness, who’s that!” sabrina gasped up on stage, sirens blaring to fit the whole arresting vibe.

joe’s jaw dropped in fake surprise, pointing at himself and looking around as if to say ‘who, me?’

“woah! do you see?” she turned to look at the two backup dancers standing next to her. they nodded and fanned their face.

“what’s your name?” sabrina asked, walking towards the edge of the stage to get closer to him.

joe cupped his mouth and yelled, “joe!”

“joe?” she repeated, earning a nod from him.

“where are you from, joe?” she tilted her head.

“boston!” he yelled.

“well, isn’t that crazy! my best friend is from boston! do you know her?” she put a hand on her hip and tilted her head.

joe’s eyes flickered, uncertain. “i might?” he shrugged, still completely unaware. the crowd, however, had already caught on to what sabrina was putting down and they were screaming frantically.

“no, i think you do.” she hummed. “i think you know her really well.”

a small smirk made its way on to joe’s face as he realized who sabrina was talking about.

“joe from boston!” you gasped, running over to stand next to sabrina.

you had just emerged from backstage, but the journey across the stage felt like an eternity. for one, you were wearing a dress matching sabrina’s, just in baby pink instead of lavender.

it was just barely long enough to cover the curve of your ass, but there was a little short slit on the side. it was sparkly, to say the least. it was incredibly tight, only the neckline was loose as to drape down to your midsection to reveal a matching bra.

your hair was curled to match sabrina’s whole 60s theme.

it was the least you’ve worn ever, and the millions of eyes on you didn’t ease your nerves. however, when your eyes locked with those familiar, warm brown eyes—who were looking at you as if you personally hung the moon and stars—you felt the buzzing from the crowd fade away.

“what a coincidence!” you huff, looking back at sabrina who was giving you a sly smirk that was definitely not a part of the act.

“you know, joe, we have this thing down in austin—we call it cuffing season-” the words barely left your mouth before his held his wrists up to you.

there was a glint in his eyes you last saw back in your teenage years.

“always up to try new things, huh, joe?” you hadn’t even realized the double innuendo until it left your mouth. it was far too late to take it back, and you weren’t dumb enough to react publically, so you just giggled as if it were a part of the show.

his eyes melted once he heard the symphony coming from your lips.

he nodded and shouted, “anything for you, y/n from boston!”

the sound that came from the crowd was ungodly.

you laughed and knelt down to hand him the pink handcuffs one of the backup dancers handed to you.

he took them eagerly.

that was supposed to be it.

you were supposed to walk off stage and hide from joe for the rest of your life.

but you never followed a plan, did you?

“i would make you juno, joe, but one of you is cute enough.” you sighed, hoping he remembered that night just as clearly as you did.

his eyes quite literally lit up. “two, though?” he quoted you.

your face went red and you stood up, hands on your hips. “buh-bye, now, joe. hope to see you around boston soon. say hi to your momma for me, kay?”

he blew you a kiss and waved you goodbye as you strutted off the stage.

the second you were successfully off the spotlight you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. your hand rested above your heart. what the fuck.

some crew member handed you an ice cold water bottle that you gratefully took and chugged down.

the bottle crinkled in your hands as it succumbed to pressure.

a finger tapped your shoulder and you turned around with furrowed brows. you nearly spit your water out upon seeing joe stand right in front of you.

“you wrote a song about it? thought that was supposed to be my thing.” he asked, a teasing smirk on his face.

your eyes went wide as you choked, patting your chest harshly as if to get the water back in the right tube.

“easy, y/n from boston.” he patted your back.

“you are so insufferable, you know that?” you blinked, wiping away the water that had dribbled down your chin in your coughing fit.

“i was told i make people wanna make me fall in love, but insufferable works too.” he shrugged, digging his hands deep into his pockets, something you’ve grown to learn he only does when he’s nervous.

“y’know, i didn’t think you’d remember.” you said quietly, eyes darting everywhere. you just couldn’t bring yourself to look him in the eye.

“how could i not when i spent all this time loving you?”

you blinked and quite literally turned around to look for some cameras. were you being punked? was this a sick joke? oh no, were you dreaming?

he pinched your arm and you let out a hiss, instantly rubbing your skin.

“not dreaming.” he smiled.

“all this time?” you repeated.

“all this time.” he confirmed with a nod. he sealed his lips into a thin line.

“why didn’t you say anything!” you huffed, pushing his chest back slightly.

“i didn’t know if you felt the same!” he defended, eyebrows raised in shock at your reaction.

“why wouldn’t i?!”

“because you’re always like ‘oh joe we were so confused!’ ‘isn’t it so funny how we dated even though we aren’t even like romantically attracted to each other?’ ‘i can’t even believe we were on and off for so long!’-”

he was going on and on and you were realizing that this entire time you were just desperately trying to convince yourself there was nothing between you two.

he was still rambling when you decided to cut him off by pressing your lips to his.

he froze at first, and then he melted in to the kiss just like he had decades ago. your fingers curled into the front of his shirt, not knowing just how much you missed his lips.

he let out a sound that danced around desperation and pleasure, and you took that as an opportunity to slide your tongue in.

even though your eyes were completely closed, you could feel the furrow in between his eyebrows he sported whenever he was making out with someone.

he pulled away to catch his breath. “i can’t believe,” he panted. “i waited this long.”

“i technically did everything-” you countered, but you couldn’t even get your point across because his lips were already on yours again.

the show was coming to an end, meaning more personnel were walking around your once secluded area backstage.

you tugged him towards your dressing room. “joe from boston, you’re gonna show me what a good time is.”

“yes, ma’am.” he blurted, trudging behind you, face so unbelievably red.

“don’t call me that.”

description : The infamous popstar! (y/n) and semi-problematic trap rapper Onyankopon have never seen eye to eye, and it doesn't help that their fandoms are always at each other's throat. What happens when they decide to squash the beef with the popstars new song — EVERYDAY

warning : PORN WITH PLOT, Popstar!reader x Rapper!Ony, imagined with a black reader but can be seen as anyone, semi-southern!Ony(??), smut, cunnilingus, praise, semi-public sex, backshots, spitting, rough sex, cumming multiple times, reader has anxiety, pussy smacks

song : Everyday by ariana grande and future | Cockiness by Rihanna

authors note : this is NOT proof read, this is more first REAL long fic so be graceful😣 HAPPY BLACK HISTORY MONTH

˖° ────୨ৎ────˖°

Never in a million fucking years did you think you'd ever make a song with Onyankopon, notorious trap rapper from atlanta, who made it very known that he had no idea who you were or that you were even a fan of his in general during an interview.

"Are you aware that the global pop sensation (y/n) has taken a liking to your music, she said in one of her interviews that she wouldn't be opposed of making a song with you, how do you feel about that" The interviewer from GQ asks the 6'2'' figure in front of him. Unfortunately for ONY, who has smoked two blunts before this interview is too high to comprehend who this little pop sensation is. "To be for real wit you, i do not know who that is" ONY chuckled quietly. "oh-uh-um (y/n) (l/n)" the interviewers proclaims, ony leans his head to the side in confusion "The singer and song writer...2 time grammy winner...just announced her newest album 'All Day, All Night'..." Onyankopon stares at the interview with low red eyes, in full uncertainty " Ion really know who you're talkin about so whatsya next question?" ONY his dominance with just one sentence. making the interviewer flustered "O-oh! im sorry, y-yes of course, let's talk about your BET nominations" "hmm you good, i'm not really trippin"ONY laughed, as the interview continues.

hours after the video was posted (y/n) stan twitter, when in full explosive mode.

@/(y/n)ownsme185; WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU DONT KNOW WHO TF THE PRINCESS OF POP IS?!?!?!

@/alldayallnightdefender202; ony quit playin you know you want that cookie bad

@/slvt4Ony101; @/alldayallnighdefender202 happy that maneater cant get an once of my kings attention, keep that ho AWAY from ony

@/alldayallnighdefender202; AHAHAHA stay mad bird brain acting like mariah, fucking burning blueeee @/slvt4Ony101

anytime, I’m alone I can’t help thinking about you

Your dm's were flooded with messages from fans and friends alike, informing you of ONY's new interview and you being name dropped. You told yourself you didnt care, why would you care if he didnt know who you were, you knew who you were and that's all that mattered. You shouldn't care, but you also shouldn't be scrolling through tiktok of ONY's new interview. You try to compose yourself, get off the app before your mind spirals, but you couldn't stop yourself. You couldn't stop yourself when you went to the tiktok search bar and started to type 'Onyankopon edits', couldn't stop yourself from scrolling video, after video after fucking video.

all I want, all I need, honestly it’s just me and you

Analyzing how his canine grillz shined whenever he bite his lip, how his chocolate skin look the the studio light of the interview, how his low red eyes look at the camera like they were looking straight through your soul. So when your thighs started to clench from the heat in between your thighs you knew you were done for. ONY got to you and you fucking hated it, you exited out of the app, put your phone on the nightstand beside you, opened up your drawer and reached for the only thing that could give you your sweet satisfaction...your baby pink double sided rose toy.

he giving me that good shit that makes me not quit

you couldn't help but wonder what ONY would be like in bed, does he kiss gently, both hands on you cheeks softly nipping at your lips wanting to be tender with you..or does he grab you by the throat and force his tongue in between you glossy lips, teeth clashing, tongues lapping together...just straight nasty. You line on the rose directly with your clit, turning it onto the first setting "mmmhg" the vibrations from your bud send shivers throughout your entire body. you wonder how big his cock his, if it’s long and skinny, thick and short, or thick and long…god you it’s thick in long “fuucckk” you huff out, your head turning to the side out of pure pleasure, you press the rose deeper into you clit, turning it to the second setting. It’s feel sooo good, ‘could ONY make me feel this good’ you thought had you rotated you hips to feel more of that electricity surging through your whole body. Your mind drifts off thinking of ONY suckleing on your pretty clit, pulling back the hood and taking long licks from your gapping whole to your precious bud, pushing your thighs up to you ears so he can get the most out of that pussy, that sent you over the edge. You felt your high coming, you pressed your thighs together and lifted your legs, frantically circling your rose around you aching clit "o-oh my gOd, ohmygoddd fuckkkk" you bite your lip so hard you could have swore you would draw blood. "ONY" was the last work you could choke out before your eyes rolled into the bad of your head, counting constellations.

1 week later

It was the night of the BET awards, 3 hours before you were supposed to be on the carpet and you couldn't lie to yourself, you were extremely on edge. You were nominated for Best female rnb/pop artist and BET her award. Not only that but you were also performing you newest single "COCKINESS". After 4 years of being in the industry you're still fairly new and get self-conscious at times.

You stare in the mirror while your hairdresser weave strands every which way. You fidget with you hands, picking at you acrylic nails thinking of all the bad things that could happen tonight. You could lose both of your nominations...you could make a fool of yourself on stage...your dress has ripp mid red carpet or worse...ONY could be there. You don't understand why he has this much of an effect on you, why are you like this, you've never felt this way about anyone else, never so sexually frustrated, never so tense to see someone in person.

You’re driver arrives to the red carpet entrance, he peeks at you through the rear view mirror and notice the uneasy look you work “ma’am, you have no reason to be nervous, just breathe. There nothing more then people with cameras”. Little did your caring driver know it wasn’t the cameras you were worried about. You gave the driver and appreciative look with a smile, you looked down at you lacy burgundy red dress, playing with your golden bracelets out of frustration. Why did you care about ONY, it’s not like he’d ever give you the time of day, he didn’t even want to acknowledge you in the fucking interview, so why should you even acknowledge his existence. So fuck him literally. You take a deep breath letting all you anxiety go away, you nod your head at the driver. That was his cue to get out and open your car door.

The soft click of the door opening was all you need to get your shit straight, as soon as you put your foot on that carpet and grabbed the hand of your driver all eyes were on you. You were blinded by the cameras flashing, deaf from the paparazzi and fans screaming, muted by the pearly white smile you plastered on your done up face. Every step you take captivates the paparazzi "(Y/N) (Y/N) OVER HEAR BEAUTIFUL GIMME A SMILE" "GIVE US A TWIRL". You compy turning to your right where the shouts were coming from, step by step you get closer and closer to the reason why you were so nervous.

he giving me that good shit, that makes me not quit, that good shit

ONY was so distracted by all the comotion from the start of the carpet he almost forgot why he was he. Onyankopon was nominated for 'Album Of The year' and 'Best Male HipHop Artist'. it was only his second BET but he already knew his way around. His cream suit with star diamond embroidery was open, showing his full chest and his pec muscles, the silver chain decorating his neck. ONY turns to see what all the fuss about only to be met with a fucking angel. He's never seen someone so ethereal, 'This cant be her'. He has seen tiktoks about you, hes seen your edits, your concert clips but not even those do you justice. For the past week ONY would fuck his fist, spilling his hot cum all over the hardwood floor of his bedroom, just to the mere thought of you. Now seeing you in person, with his own two...god he thinks he can cum in his pants just looking at you. "ONY HEY OVER HERE, LOOK TO YOUR LEFT NOT YOUR RIGHT!!!" the paparazzi yells at the man, it takes him a second those, to mesmerized by your beautiful gown, glowing skin and how your espresso eyes catch his making his dich jump in his pant. He quickly looks away at the paparazzi, stuffing his hands in his pants pockets pushing down on his growing bulge.

ONY tried kept to himself for the rest of the night and so did you...but the production and organization teams of the BET thought would be a great fucking idea to sit you and ONY at the same.fucking.table. You tried your best to ignored him and for the most part it was working, but then you would catch a glimpse of him licking his lips while staring daggers into your soul. It made it hard for you to talk to your fellow celebrity friend SZA. There was no doubt that Stan twitter was going crazy right now, with the camera focusing distinctly on you and ony, how he’s watching you every move, how your completely neglecting the dark chocolate man across from you.

Anytime, everywhere, baby boy, I can misbehave

“AND NOW FOR THE ALBUM OF THE YEAR!! We’ve had so much incredible music moments this year is so hard to choose which is the best, our nominatees for the night areeee…” the announcers shouts into the mic looking over the crowed. ONY couldn’t give two fucks about the nominees nor how he was one of them, all he cared about was how that sloppy wet pussy would feel around his big throbbing cock, fuck he was so hard, he couldn’t help but ogle at the enchanting sight in front of him. You. Giggling at something one of your friends whispered in your ear, oh the nasty things he would whisper in your ear while he made you take all of his 8 inches. Maybe he would tell you how good of a girl you were being, how pretty you look when you cunts drooling all over his dick. Maybe he’s flip you in your hands and knees, arch your back with you hands behind you back and watch how you paint him white, tell you how fucking gorgeous you sound when you moan his-. “ONYANKOPON FOR HIS ALBUM OVERKILLL” ONY is immediately on his feet and out of his trance as he walks on to the stage to accept his award. He says his thank you and praises to his production team, his fans and his family.

Breathe me in, breathe me out

You can’t take your eyes off of him while he leaves the stage, the way his chest heaves with adrenaline from his most recent win, the way his silver canines show when he smiles ‘I wish he would leave bite marks all over my thighs’ you daydreamed about him to the point where you can feel you panties get wet from you slick. 25 minutes past and you win your first award of the night for Best Female Rnb/Pop Artist, you make your way backstage to change for your performance of ‘COCKINESS’

10 minutes until show time and your all done up with your stage outfit. You do a few vocal extensions to make sure you voice is all warmed up, you do dynamic stretching while going over through your dance routine in your head praying you don’t mess up. 3 minutes until show time and you and your beloved back up dancers are all in circle praying for good luck, all jittery from anticipation. You make your way on top the pitch black stage, the only lights illuminating from the audience, leaving the glittery edges of the stage visible. You can feel you heart beat in your ass as you place you self on your centered spot. As the slowly music starts the spot like is put on you, you look into the crowed and see cameras, friends, fans, coworkers and most of all ony. Every screen and eye was on you and boy did you love it.

The first note hit heard, along with the first movement, your chest vibrating with the beat, “EAT MY COCKINESS” you drop into a stratal, bouncing up and down until you manage to push you self on the floor, “LICK MY PERSUASION” slightly throwing your ass in a circle as you do a little push up. You bring yourself back to your knees and roll your body “EAT MY WORDS AND THEN SWALLOW YOUR PRIDE DOWN DOWN” Every word, every movement, ever facial expression had everyone hypnotized. Everyone but ONY, no no now ONY was watching you like a predator watched its prey, watched you tits jiggle, your ass shake, the sweat from you chest drip down to you belly, how your face would contorted into lewd expression while you danced and sang on that stage, ony was needy, ony was feral. “I LOVE IT I LOVE IT I LOVE IT WHEN YOU EAT IT” Your voice radiates through the building as you move your body from the cat and dog yoga pose straight to a doggy pose with a arched back…the same pose ONY wants to have you by the end of the night.

Fill me up, running through your veins

As the award show comes to the close, with you taking home 1/2 of your awards you feel extremely proud and accomplished. You faced your fears and got on that stage like it was yours, and it was for that moment. The closing performance is now on display as your friend gushes a about the BET after party that’s going on, she explains her needs and wants for you to attended but you unfortunately have to pass this down, you must wake up early to work on some of the songs for you upcoming album, much to her dismay she accepts your decline. ONY on the other head is furious..the fuck do you mean you not coming to the after party, he planned on making sure you left with a cum filled pussy maybe even a small apology for forgetting who his pretty little popstar was, but that’ll have to wait for another day.

3 days later, you wake up with semi sore muscles from pushing yourself past your limit during your performance. The morning light sneaking past your closed curtains made it hard for you to attempt to go back to sleep, rolling on your back and stretching your limbs as far as they can go, giving them sweet sweet relief from your curled sleeping position. You reach over and grab your phone only to see 5 miss calls from you manager and 2 text from 2:12am from no other than ony

Instagram; 2:12am — @/therealony has sent you two messages

5 Missed called from Hange!

You’re immediately awake, frantically rubbing your eyes to see if you’re dreaming, did ony really message you!?! What could he possibly want at 2 in the morning knowing damn well he probably only wanted some pussy. Not just any pussy though, your pussy. You open up ONY's message before calling Hange back, it’s okay she can wait, this is more important anyway.

Yo, I wanna apologize for speaking out of pocket during dat interview, ur performance was fire, it hit different yk

We should hop in the studio tg, heard ya got a new album droppin soon, I’m tryna slide on dat, lmk

He giving me that good shit that make me not quit that good shit

You don’t even know how to respond, ony, the man you’ve been touching you needy cunt to for the past 2 weeks want to make a song with you, wants you his studio. “I wonder what else he wants to slide into…”you whispered to yourself. Dirty thoughts consuming your thoughts... 'Okay bitch lock tf in' trying to motivate yourself to respond to the message you before at. You begin to type..

Hi! Thank you so much i really | 'no no no too preppy'

yeah sure just lmk | 'fuck thats to bland, i don't wanna come of room'

After 5 minutes of typing and deleting and typing and deleting you come to a compromise.

There’s no problem at all, and thank you, i greatly appreciate it. I hope that we can do some music together soon, just let me know when you are free.

You tried to be as professional as you can be, hoping your messages didn’t come off too rude or preppy. Your chest started to pull together, anxiety crept over your shoulder like a warm sweater, iching upon you little by little until you cant breath. You really need to get something for it, it’s starting to become a problem. You put your phone down, take a deep breath to calm your nerves and works kinda. As you lift yourself up off the bed to head to your bathroom so you can get ready a day of lazing around your pent house and watch the newest season of Love island you here your phone ping

wyd tonight round 7:40, pull up, i gotta studio I’ll send you the lo

‘Well fuck there goes my day of relaxation’ (y/n) pondered on what would've happened in this new episode of love island, what bullshit is huda and chelley gonna pull today, the delicious Buffalo Wild Wings she would miss out on, maybe the afternoon nap she would never get back. She also pondered on how tonight will go with ONY, will it stay professional or will hrt slutty thoughts get in the way. Maybe she’ll wear that tight backless top that hugs her curves just right, that tiny denim skirt that shows her panties when she bends down, hell maybe she won’t even wear panties.

7:25

your driver pulls up to a tall glass building with a big sign that reads 'Liberation Studios', You look at your message from ONY to make sure you got the right address

68 Freedom Way Blv, Liberation Studios. ima be on floor 4, room 9, see ya in a bit

"This is the right place, don't worry about a things, text me when your ready" your driver reasuress you as you take a step out of the car, your Chanel kitten heels hitting the pavement with uncertainty. 'One foot in front of the other (y/n), your okay, just breathe' you take a look at your outfit, you ruffled backless shirt and the mini skirt you told yourself you HAD to where, smoothing it all out as you shuffled you way through the parking lot to the entrance of the building. Immediately met with red carpet and black walls with silver accents. You gaze around your surroundings taking it all in, you see you big stair cases the loop around the main front desk with mashing red carpet and silver railings, a silver elevator on each the right and left side of the receptionist desk.

You make your way to the receptionist, her lean body, pale low eyes and blonde hair giving her an intimating presence, she looks at you with low bored eyes “can I help you?”, “Yes Im here to see Onyankopon?” Is the only this your able to squeak out before she’s violently typing at the computer, eyes focus on the screen in front of her, “Take the elevator to the 4 floor, 9th room on the right” the women replied dryly. “Okay thank you so much!” you leave her with a a polite smile, only to be met with a low hum as she turns her chair away from you. ‘Who pissed in her Cheerios’

It felt like you were trapped in that elevator for hours, just you, your shaking hands, the inside of your cheeks ragged from biting at them and the overwhelming thought of how ONY's cock would feel heavy on your tongue. When the elevator door opened you reached into your Chanel bag that perfectly matched your heels for your lip liner and gloss, lightly reapplying as you strutted your way to the black door with a silver number 9 plastered on the front. You could smell the weed from outside the door. You take a few deep breaths calming your nerves and putting on the persons you have when you’re on stage. knock, knock knock

As the door crept open your eyes are met with a big, tall, blonde figure, must’ve been ONY's bodyguard, at first he just stared at you like you were some kind of imposter, "Um, h-hi im here for ONY-" "Reiner get the fuck out da way damn" You hear a silky low voice yell at the the blonde figure in front of you, as he moves out of the doorway, you've met with familiar deep chocolate eyes. "Yo, Princess you 5 minutes early" ONY laughs at your promptness while you blush at your new nickname "don't worry bout it fr, come on, get in here girl" you make your way past the doorway, walking across the notorious rapper, you notice how he towers over you, making you slightly clench your thighs together"

You examine the room and see 3 other men, including his body gaurd, "Lemme introduce ya to everyone princess" ONY points at a man sitting on the coach in the back corner, licking the blunt so he can roll it better "dats connie" connie looks at you slightly with low red eyes and nods at you, you wave back in return. The room is flooded with lowlights smoke and music, making you feel dizzy. ONY puts his arm around your shoulder, the scent of weed, and a faint designer cologne, god you cant control your own pussy with the way its throbbing rn. "dats Eren, he's gon be helpin us produce today and you met reiner" The two men acknowledge you but only for a second. "so what kinda beat ya thinking of" ONY takes his arms off your shoulder and his hand on your lower back as he guides you near the infamous producer. ONY cant believe he has you hear right now, he cant believe your in that skimpy ass skirt, with you pretty lips all glossy, he can't wait to see it smear all over his hot pulsating cock. He tilts his head to the side slightly as you answer his question so quietly. "Well I actually have a song already" you explain digging for your phone in your purse "i just need to do some more vocals and you just need to write your verse, i already have a little idea but i'm not sure if your fuck wit it for real" you ramble, your so damn frustrated and flustered that your fucking rambling... ONY thinks it so damn cute. "lemme see what you got princess" only smiles letting his canine grillz fully visible.

The studio is filled with your your light falsetto, cutting through the room like warm sunlight. Your voice controlled and delicate focusing on the lyrics in front of you. Your body moves to the rhythm, swaying your hips as the soft light makes your skin glow. ONY is mesmerized by you, staring at you like your the only person in the room. watching you move your hips, wishing he place his hands on your hips and make you ride his dick like a pogostick.

"Make me go..."

"la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la,"

"la, la, la, la la, la,"

"everyday, everyday"

"la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la,"

"la, la, la, la la, la,"

"everyday, everyday"

you exit the music booth and stand next to eren as he works of the table. You stared at ONY through the glass as he spits his verse. you cant but watch his lips move and his low voice rap the lyrics, his adams apple moves up and down...fuck you wanted his mouth on you, your lips, your neck, hips, thigh, ...pussy.

"I put that work on you everyday from the night fall to the sun shine"

"you done fell in love with a bad guys"

"i don't compromise my passion"

The deep tone of ONY's voice are smooth and intimate as he raps his verse. Bopping his head up and down to the beat, helping him stay on top of it. He cant help but catch little glances at you, he knows exactly what your thinking, the way your biting your lip just from his words, how your clenching your thighs...oh yeah he's on that.

"im about to put all this vintage loving on you"

"baby like it was the late 80's"

"when you ride on me, baby rotate it”

And with that finishing lyric the song was done "ight O that was fire, you good to hop out da booth" Eren speaks through ONYfrom the chair mike. He makes his way out the book with eyes locked on you, "gimme bout 3 days and i'll send the song back to you mkay?" the long haired man noted to you" "okay! sounds good, i should head out no-" you were cut off by a low voice "Nah i need everybody out the studio right now...everyone but you princess" He looked at you dangerously as everyone excited the room. it was just you and him alone. The man of your deepest desires, the man you greedily rubbed your clit too every fucking night. the last thing you rembered is his warm firm hand wrapping gently around your throat, pulling you into a hot, wet kiss.

The way your tongues massage together, makes you purr against his mouth. His hand slips from your throat to your hips tithe back of your thighs forcefully picking you up. Like second nature your legs wrapped tightly around his hips never break the kiss. ONY carries you to the leather couch in the corner and softly set you down like he’s afraid to break you, but trust me, breaking you is all he wants to do right now.

he giving me that good shit, that make me not quit, that good shit

He kneels down on the floor and starts kissing your cheeks, to your jaw, to you neck and chest, he reaches his hand behind you back making you arch so he can take of your shirt. “Been thinkin about ya for weeks princess” ONY sighs softly against your skin as he takes you nipple patches off with his teeth. A desperate hiss comes from your mouth at the stings from the patches, suddenly your his turns into a needy whimper as ONY locks his mouth on you right nip, eagerly sick hat the bud “mmmh, f-fuck on-y” you grab the back of his head, nails light scratching at the fade in the bag, you can’t help but push your body up to feel more of his tongue.

His other hand pinches your left nipple, he cant let both his girls go unsatisfied. You sucks your you nipple until he sees it’s red and hard, finally satisfied he moves to the other giving it the same attention. Your brows your staunch up in pleasure, you can’t believe your fantasies are coming true. You try you hardest to grind you cunt on ony, any kind of relief will help you, you so needy, you can’t believe feel you clits own heartbreak, how you whole is gapping around nothing but air. ONY can feel you gyrate your hips into is abdomen. "yeah, princess? dats where ya need me?" ONY glances up at you while kissing down your stomach, your breath hitches as he gets closer and closer to where you yearn for him the most. "come on princess tell me what ya want" you hesitate at first, but then he begin slitting your denim skirt bunched up to your hips, grabbing the back of your knees and pushing them apart to get a better view of you panti-

ONY ony chokes on a chuckle, much to his amusement and his excitement, his pretty little popstar came to the studio with no panties on, her wetness covering her inner thighs, folds and clit. "tsk tsk tsk...ya came here wearing no panties?" he cocks his eyebrow at you "you knew you were getting you pretty pussy played with huh" he leans his head down to take a tender kiss to your thighs, lighting letting his grillzs gently nip of the soft flesh. "if you aint gon tell em what ya want aint gon touch you" ONY continued to nip at you thigh..until he bit it completely "OW!" you gasp from the sudden pain "don't get all shy on me now princess, you can talk about getting you 'persuasion' licked on dat stage but aint gon tell me when im right in front of ur pussy". You felt your cheeks flush as you grow frustrated, he already knows what you want so why must you have to say it. "I want you to eat my pussy ONY" you muttered in frustration as you grabbed the back of his head, pushing him towards your throbbing clit.

Oh he give it to me

everyday, everyday, everyday

ONY could only smirk at your enthusiasm, he hooks is lips on to your clit sucking ferociously, making your back arch into a C. "Ahh-ah F-uckk". You grab the back of his head pushing his further into your bud as you rotate you hips into his face. The sexy man in between your push your legs further back, taking a long strip up your entire cunt, tasting all your juices and drinking you up like fine wine. ONY teasingly pulls back the hood your your clit and circles it with his tongue drawing out sweet little moans from you. "o-ony babyyy" your voice shaky and gasping for air. All the times you have fantasised about him, now you finally have him. "god damn girl" ONY comes up for, "you taste better then i thought you would" he says as he reaches his hand down to prod at your sopping whole, inserting two fingers and curling them up inside you. Your eyes flutter shut as your mouth contorts to a O, all ONY can do is stare at you, watch your face and body be consumed by pleasure, dipping his head back down to lap at you bullied clit. Your chest heaves with anticipation, feeling the tension building in your core, you could unravel at any second.

ONY adds a third finger roughly pumping them in and out, moving them up and down in side you, he’s in just the right angle to to you you squirming all over the couch, hitting that spot that made you your thighs tremble around his head. “That’s it princess, come on, gimme that nut” ONY mumbles into your bundle of nerves. Your hand grips at the leather cushion while you other frantically pushing Ony deeper into you, your thigh threatening to close on his head. ONY pulls his fingers on our your pulsating cunt much to your disappointment, to drunk on the way he’s flicking his tongue on your clit you barely notice him being his hand up and swing it down to lay a firm SMACK! on you soaking pussy. “A-AH” You screech and jolt your body up at the pain “keep those fuckin legs open ya hear me” all you can do is nod with need.

He grabs your hands and make you hold you legs open for him “close you legs again and you ain’t gon cum” with that he plunges his three fingers back into your pussy immediately hitting your g-spot, fearlessly taking you clit back into his mouth, he’s not gonna stop until your dripping down his face. “mhhmm” he moans around your clit in awe of how good you taste. The vibrations traveling through your entire body making you tremble “Ha-ahhh y-yess” you nod your head in approval “just like that, k-keep goingggg” you cry, you cry out for the man making you feel on cloud 9, you cry out for him, for ONY. You roll you head back almost at the edge “uh uh princess, eyes on me, I wanna see those pretty eyes dilate when I make you cum”. That’s all you needed, you were done for from just looking into his deep brown eyes. The rush hit you all at once, waves of pleasure consuming you, making you arch your back into his hot tongue and fingers. Your cunt couldn’t help but ooze with sticky liquid all over onys thick fingers. “OUUU-AHHH”.

he give it to me

everyday, everyday, everyday

You go limp on the leather couch as ONY continues to eat you like a starved man, you try so hard to push his head away from you bruised clit he just won’t let up. “B-baby plea-see”. You nerves were so sensitive, too sensitive, what once was undeniable pleasure started to turn into a mixture of pain. Your thighs shook uncontrollably as you tried to pull away, thank god ONY let you. He pulled his fingers out and licked your juices off his middle and ring finger “mmmh you taste so good princess, here” he lift is remaining index finger to you mouth “taste yourself pretty”. You open you mouth to let his fingers into you, sucking on it and tasting you own arousal. You look up at ONY with your big bambi eyes, glossy for your most recent orgasm, dark hungry ones look back at you with earnest, “gooood girl” he drags out his words has he takes his finger out from your mouth.

His hands reach for his pants that hang low on his hips, you can see his mid drift peek up from under his shirt, revealing his v-line, seeing it had your mouth watering, you need to get you lips around his cock immediately. You shaking hands reach for him belt look, lightly tugging at it making him snicker. “Nah princess tonight’s about you ight, now turn around and arch that back fa me” he smiles slightly and caresses your bottom lips. You comply, turning over, the leather of the couch slighting stinging your knees, you grab onto the back of the of it, praying it’ll give you the security you know you’ll need soon.

ONY rubs his hand up and down the your sides, feeling you soft body, he’s never felt anything so soft in his life, he wonders if your pussy will my softer. He arches over you body, taking your chin in his hand ask you politely to.. “spit in my hand baby” you breath is caught in your throat from the idea, the gesture alone made you cunt pulsate with need. You gathered as much spit as you dry mouth would allow you. Spilling it all into his hand, “good girl”. He praises you as he leans back to stroke his cock with your spit, pushing the tip in between your slippery folds. “Mmhhh, baby your so wettt, who got you dis wet princess?” He hums prodding his tip into your entrance. You swallowed hard and softly squeak out a little- “you ony, you got m-me so wet”. That’s all he needed to sink his cocked deep in your sloppy cunt. “Ooouuu ONY” you can feel the pressure of him inside you, you can feel every vein in his cock, how his mushroom tip reaches so deep he’s so close to your cervix. You deepen your arch wanting needing to feel more of him, looking back to see ONY bewitched by your pussy, he gives you one good thrust, watching your pussy lips engulf him. The way your cunt swallow him with every slow thrust, makes him needier and needier with everyone.

Oh he give it to me

everyday, everyday, everyday

Much to his surprise that his pretty little popstar starts to fuck herself on his dick. You back curves, steadily throwing your plump ass back on him. He watches it recoil has he grabs your hips with urgency, fucking you back. A soft broken whimper slipped from your lips “Ahhhmmm” biting on the leather in front of you so die down your moans. ONY noticed…and oh he didn’t like that, why were you trying to hide those pretty moans from him? That’s so unfair, so in retaliation ony took his palms and pressed into your lower back, making his cock slam against your poor cervix. Your eyes roll into the back of your head, arm flying behind you to grab on to his forearms. ONY bites his lip, grillz gleaming in the low light. “fuckkk!!” “I knowww, baby I know” he lowly grunts “but you tired to hide those pretty little moans—“ he reaches one of his hands to hold your jaw and tilt your head back, his other hand pressed firmly on your back, making you keep that arch consistent as he thrust into you. PLAP PLAP PLAP your pussy clenches around him making the most delicious gushy sound as he fucks you.

ONY makes direct eye contact with you leaning his head to whisper filth into your ear. “ya hear that princess?" he purrs in your ear. PLAP PLAP PLAP is all you can hear right now and ONY's nasty words. "listen to her princess, she's singin for me baby, she sounds sooo pretty" he grunts in your ear leaning down to nuzzle against your neck. Smelling your Chanel Gardénia perfume mixed with you sweat, ony lakes a long stride, licking you your neck to nibble on your earlobe. Thrust getting off balance, he can’t cum yet, his girl need to cum at least one more time before he does he thought.

make me go...

la,la,la,la,la,la,la,la

la,la,la,la,la,la

He moves his hand from your lower back inching it down your hips to your thighs, straight to your swollen clit. “Mmmmphhfuckkk onyy pl-please” your breath hitches as he started to rub tight circles around you clit. “Please what baby, huh? Tell ony what you need” he turns your head to him nipping at your lips, “come on.” “I n-need to cum” you kiss him back, licking his bottom lips before whispering “i need you to make me cumm”. ONY immediately closes the gap between you guys, sucking your tongue into his mouth, has his fingers work miracles in between your thighs. ONY breaks the kiss, letting go of your jaw and grabby a fist full of your hair to put an arch in your back. “You gonna cum for me again princess” he pants in you ear “cum on my cock baby, you can do it, just let go for ony”. You can feel it, that tension you felt when he was face first into your pussy, but it’s different. You feel it deeper in your core, every time you hits you cervix and rubs your clit you feel it. You’re no longer moaning, silenced by the sharp, deep thrust ony is giving you, all you can do is huff and puff as your vision goes blurry.

give it to me, to

(she got me on it...)

He can feel how you tighten around him, yours knows, first time fucking you and he already knows your body. “Dat my girllll, yeahhh” “Cum” PLAP “for” PLAP “me” and just like that the earth shatters, high pitch squeaks escape from your throat as ONY praises you from behind. Your so overwhelmed so sensitive, you fall forward on the back of the couch, to tired to move, legs shaking, “th-at’s my good girl, f-fuck I knew you could do it pr-incess ahhg fuckk” ONY squeezes his eyes shut had his hips stutter, he pull out at the right moment, painting your back white like you were his personal canvas.

oh, he give it to me every day

You're both sweating, ONY is sprawled over your body, hyperventilating has his kisses your shoulder. You regain your composer, body buzzing and pussy aching. "You ight princess? Was I to rough wit ya" he expresses his concern for you, the last thing he wished for was to cause you any harm especially since he let all of his pent up energy on you. "mhmm, m'okay" you mumble has your head hung low with exhaustion. ONY reaches other to grab some tissues to clean you up, He rolls his pants back up and sits next to you"You did so good for me baby, c'mere" you slowly crawl into his lap, letting him wrap his big arm around your waist. You gently lay your head on his sweaty chest still in his white wife beater, you can feel his heart beating in a steady rhythm. his right hand lovingly massages your knees, trying to sooth the burns from the leather as he tucks loose strands of hair behind your ear. Your voice trembles, youre barely able to get a few words out from how hoarse you vocal cords were but somehow you managed "Do you know who i am now". The last thing you hear before drifting off into sleep was a deep chuckles, feeling a small peck on your hairline.

𝘪𝘯𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘳!𝘳𝘢𝘧𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘰𝘯 𝘹 𝘱𝘰𝘱𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 (𝘰𝘣𝘹 𝘴𝘮𝘢𝘶)

𝘳𝘢𝘧𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘰𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘥𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘰𝘮𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘢 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘶𝘣𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘭, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘯𝘰 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘦, 𝘪𝘵 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘭𝘺 𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘸 𝘶𝘱. 𝘺/𝘯 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘸𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘱𝘰𝘱𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳, 𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘥𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘰𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘭𝘪𝘮𝘣𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘴. 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘱𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘴 𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘴 𝘥𝘶𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘢𝘧𝘦’𝘴 𝘴𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘵𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳’𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘴.