warnings ᯓ★: black reader, 18 year old reader, plug!megumi, brother’s best friend trope, age gap implications (early 20s megumi), explicit sexual content, car sex, semi-public sex, unprotected sex, creampie, breeding kink elements, pregnancy risk/scare, plan b discussion, family conflict (brother finds out via phone), phone call interruption during sex, light dirty talk, consensual but impulsive decisions, aftercare, emotional intimacy, no condoms used, mild panic/post-nut clarity, no non-con or dub-con, all acts consensual between adults, realistic consequences discussed
pairing: plug!megumi x blackbimbo!reader
Description ᯓ★: your brother drags you to megumi’s house so he can sneak off to see his girlfriend, leaving you alone with a caramel frappe and megumi’s quiet attention. tension that’s been building forever finally snaps in his car things get heated, raw, unprotected. brother’s facetime call almost catches mid-moment.
megumi was your brothers bestfriend. he sold drugs, weed and some more shit that he kept stashed in different spots around his room.
your brother ended up on punishment for sneaking his girlfriend in the house one too many times, windows creaking and all.
and the only way he could get out was by taking his little sister out, buying you some dunkin’. donut strawberry and frosted with extra sprinkles because he knew you’d drag it out and a caramel frappe, extra caramel drizzle swirled on top and down the sides, the cup already getting that sweaty condensation ring by the time you got in the car.
though your brother left soon as he got there and begged you to not tell mom, voice low and desperate.
“sis please- i promise this is the last time.” he held the door knob wedging it in and outward while he stood in the hallway, sneakers squeaking on the wood floor.
“yeah whatever, hurry up.” you didn’t look away from your phone, just laid on megumis bed, legs kicked up, back against the headboard with the gray comforter bunched under you, the cold caramel frappe cup sweating against your thigh and leaving a damp spot on your sweatpants.
“okay call me if you need me, ima be at carmens house.” and with that your brothers car pulled out the driveway, tires crunching over loose gravel, and he was on his way to see his girlfriend—again.
you strolled on your phone, biting at your straw, the plastic slightly flattened from how long you’d been chewing on it, caramel still thick and sticky on the tip every time you took a slow sip through the whipped cream.
the faint smell of weed still hung in the air mixed with whatever body spray megumi used, and you could hear him moving around somewhere down the hall, door half open like he didn’t care who was in his space.
his room wasn’t dirty, it was actually clean. organized actually. shelves lined with vinyls in alphabetical order, a few jars tucked neatly in the corner drawer where he kept his product sorted by strain, desk clear except for a half-empty water bottle and his rolling tray flipped upside down like it was just decor. bed made, grey comforter pulled tight, no random clothes thrown around.
he walked in, sweats hanging low on his hips, black essential hoodie. his head tilted a bit, dark hair falling slightly into his eyes. hands stuffed deep in his hoodie pocket, shoulders relaxed.
“you good?” he looked at you, curled in his bed, straw at your lips and phone in your hand. curls spilling against his pillow, legs tucked under the grey comforter.
“every time my brother leaves me here—you always ask me that.” you looked up from your phone, long lashes fluttering as you met his gaze.
he nonchalantly shrugged, a small tsk sound escaped his lips, like he was half amused, half used to it. he leaned against the doorframe, hands still in his pockets.
“yeah—and you never answer it.” his head tilted just a fraction more, eyes steady on you.
you rolled your eyes a little, pulling the straw from your lips with a soft pop, caramel residue still glistening on it. you set the phone down on the grey comforter beside you, finally giving him your full attention.
“maybe i don’t need to?” your voice came out softer than you meant, lashes dipping as you glanced down at the cup in your hand, condensation dripping slow onto the comforter.
he looked at the comforter and sighed softly. “finna go make some runs—you can stay here.”
you leaned up, propping yourself on your elbows. “wait i wanna come.” you jumped out of his bed and slipped your clogs on, your anklet dangled with the little silver charms catching the dim light from the hallway.
you sat the cup on his nightstand, the condensation leaving a faint wet ring on the wood, and met him at the doorway of his bedroom, close enough that you could smell the faint weed and that body spray clinging to his hoodie.
he rolled his eyes slightly, pink lips twisted just a bit, like he was already regretting saying yes.
“okay, just don’t be annoyin’” he walked through the hallway and grabbed his bookbag off the floor by the couch—black, worn straps fraying at the edges—before snatching his keys off the table.
they jingled sharp against his palm as he headed for the front door, not even bothering to look back to see if you were following.
you grabbed your phone quick, tucking it into your sweatpants pocket, and hurried after him, the anklet making soft tinkling sounds with every step.
he made runs for hours, windows cracked just enough to let the cool night air mix with the faint weed smoke that clung to everything. every stop he’d hand you the crumpled bills or the cash app notification, letting you count it quick and fix the stack before sliding it into the side pocket of his bookbag.
or he’d pass you the pre-rolled or the little baggie his client already paid for, trusting you to hand it off smooth without drawing eyes.
you stayed quiet in the passenger seat most of the time, legs crossed, scrolling or just watching the streetlights streak by.
it was damn near dark out now, sky deep purple, streetlights buzzing on one by one, and he still had lots more trips to do. he pulled into a quiet side street to wait on the next text, engine idling low. he looked at you, eyes bored but softer around the edges than usual, lingering a beat longer on the way the white fabric stretched across your chest in the dashboard glow.
“you hungry?” his voice cut through the quiet, thumb tapping lazy on the steering wheel.
you glanced over, anklet shifting as you uncrossed your legs, the little charms catching the glow from the dashboard lights.
“yeah… kinda. been in this car forever.” you stretched your arms up, crop top lifting higher to show more skin, then dropped them back down slow.
“we’ll get something to eat after this order.” he rubbed his lips wit his fingers, eye still forward, other had at the top of the steering wheel.
he finally got the order and cranked the engine, felt like he was driving through town for hours, same streets looping under the tires, headlights washing over empty sidewalks.
when he finally pulled up the client wasn’t even there. porch light off, driveway empty, no sign of anyone.
you sucked your teeth, hungry and annoyed, stomach growling loud enough to cut through the quiet. “what the fuck.” you pouted, arms crossed under your chest so the white crop pulled tighter, thin fabric stretching across your nipples in the dashboard glow.
megumi just watched you. fingers caressing his lips slow, like he was thinking hard or just giving himself something to do. no rush in his face, no frustration—just that steady, quiet stare.
“relax.” he said, voice calm, nothing else behind it. he tilted his head back against the headrest, eyes flicking to the side window, watching—waiting for a car to pull up or headlights to flash down the block.
“i’m so hungry megumii—” you whined a little, didn’t mean to but it came out. the pout deepened, lips full and glossy from the way you’d been biting them all night. you uncrossed your arms to tug at the crop hem, trying to pull it down, but it just rode right back up, exposing more skin.
he kept watching. eyes went down your body—over the crop, the bare skin between it and your sweatpants, the way the waistband sat low—then back to your face. thumb dragged over his lip again.
car idled, engine humming. no client. minutes passed.
he exhaled through his nose. “come here.” quiet, not loud.
you looked at him. “what?”
he didn’t say it again. reached over, fingers around your wrist light, pulled you closer across the console till your side hit his. crop rode up more, edge almost under your tits now. his hoodie sleeve brushed your bare skin, warm.
he looked down at you, close. breath on your face. “you keep whining like that…”
his thumb rubbed once over your wrist. other hand left the wheel, landed on your thigh over the sweatpants. palm flat, heavy, not moving yet.
you felt your heart pick up. street quiet, just the engine.
he leaned in a bit, nose close to your hair. “i’ll get you food after this. be patient.”
hand squeezed your thigh once—firm—then slid up slow, thumb going under the loose waistband of your sweatpants, grazing bare skin right above your hip. stopped there. waited. eyes on yours in the dark.
you swallowed. heat low in your stomach. sweatpants felt too hot suddenly. “megumi…”
he didn’t talk back. fingers slipped under the band more, brushing skin slow, not rushing. breathing even but chest moving faster against you. ears red at the tips.
your heart jumped against your chest, sharp and quick, like it was trying to break free. you wanted this, wanted it for longer than you’d admit—but the want came wrapped with nerves, making your breath catch.
you looked up at him. he stared right back. lips pink, parted just enough, like he was already tasting the air between you. dark blue eyes gone darker, pupils blown wide in the dim dashboard light, swallowing the usual calm until it was just heat and focus locked on your face.
you pushed up to kiss him. he leaned down at the same time, meeting you halfway. your mouths crashed soft at first—then his tongue slipped past your plump lips, slow and sure, tasting the faint caramel still clinging to you from earlier.
patient. always patient. he didn’t rush the kiss, just deepened it steady, tongue sliding against yours in lazy strokes that made your head spin.
his hand in your sweatpants moved gentle, deeper now. fingers eased under the edge of your panties, brushing bare skin, then parting you slow. he found you wet already and let out the softest sound against your mouth.
barely a hum, like he was surprised but not really. middle finger circled your clit once, light pressure, testing. then again. patient circles that made your hips jerk up into his palm without thinking.
he kissed you softer after that, like everything about him gave—gave space, gave time, gave you room to breathe even as he took more. lips moving careful over yours, sucking your bottom lip between his teeth for a second before letting go. his free hand came up to cup the back of your neck, thumb stroking the soft skin under your ear, keeping you close but not trapping you.
your hand scrunched tighter at his hoodie, fingers bunching the thick black fabric over his chest, gripping like you needed something solid while he unraveled you. he took you passionately but quiet.
he didn’t groan loud or talk dirty, just kissed deeper, tongue curling with yours while his finger slid lower, pressing inside you slow, one knuckle, then two. curled just right, stroking that spot that made your thighs tremble and a small whimper slip out against his lips.
he broke the kiss slow, a thin string of spit breaking between you, shining for a second in the dashboard light before it snapped. his breathing came heavier now, chest rising against yours.
“your brother would kill me.” he looked down into your glossy, begging eyes, pouted lips still wet from him. voice low, rough around the edges, but steady. like he was stating a fact, not trying to talk himself out of it.
“you know that right?”
your eyebrows slouched, annoyed, frustration mixing with the ache between your legs. “i don’t care. i want this—give me this megumi.”
you tried to pull him closer by his neck, fingers digging into the soft skin there, tugging at the hoodie collar. but he didn’t budge, didn’t move much, just stayed where he was, solid and unyielding.
his hand still buried in your sweatpants, fingers deep inside you, but he’d gone still. no more stroking, just holding there, letting you feel the stretch, the heat, the pulse of him against your walls.
you could cry from it—he played with your pussy so gentle, kissed you soft and deep and now he was pulling away, even if it was only an inch.
desperation pushed up your throat. you gripped at his hand, the one still tucked under the loose waistband, fingers wrapping around his wrist like you could force him to keep going if he tried to pull away again.
“please—megumi—please. i want this.”
he paused for a second, everything still except the slow rise and fall of his chest against yours. eyes dropped to your lips first, then lifted to the tears forming in the corners of your eyes, glossy and catching the faint dashboard light. he didn’t blink. just watched them like they meant something heavy.
“if we keep going—” his voice came out low, rougher than before, almost a warning wrapped in quiet certainty, “—i’m not stopping.”
the words hung there, simple and final. no tease, no smirk—just him laying it out plain so you couldn’t pretend later that you didn’t know.
his fingers were still inside you, buried deep, but he’d gone completely still again, waiting.
letting you feel the stretch, the throb, the way your walls clenched around him involuntary every time you shifted.
you nodded fast, tears spilling over now, one sliding slow down your cheek. “i know. i don’t want you to stop.”
something changed in his face. softened just a fraction, the hesitation cracking open. he exhaled slow through his nose, thumb brushing once over your clit again, light enough to make your hips buck.
then he leaned in, kissed the tear track on your cheek gentle, lips lingering there like he was tasting the salt.
“okay,” he murmured against your skin.
then he moved.
fingers started again—slow at first, deliberate pumps, curling deeper each time he pushed back in, stroking that spot that made your thighs shake and your breath hitch. thumb circled your clit steady, pressure building patient but unrelenting.
the wet sounds were louder now in the quiet car, obscene and intimate, mixing with your small gasps and the low hum of the engine.
he kissed you again. deeper this time, tongue sliding against yours slow and thorough while his hand worked you open. free hand came up to cradle the back of your head, fingers threading into your curls, keeping you close so every whimper went straight into his mouth. he swallowed them quiet, like they were his to keep.
your grip on his wrist loosened as the pleasure coiled tighter, turning into desperate clutching at his hoodie instead—nails digging into the fabric over his chest. sweatpants shoved down further around your thighs now, bunched and forgotten. his hoodie sleeve had ridden up, forearm flexing with every slow thrust of his fingers.
“shit.” he groaned into your mouth, low and rough, the sound vibrating against your lips.
your eyes fluttered open, hazy and heavy-lidded, finding his in the dim glow. “what? what’s wrong?” you asked so softly, innocently, voice barely above a whisper, like you were scared you’d broken something.
he pulled back just enough to look at you—dark blue eyes locked on yours, pupils blown wide. his breathing came uneven now, chest heaving under your palms.
“i’m so hard.” the words came out strained, honest, no filter. he grabbed your hand gentle but firm, guided it down between you until your fingers brushed the thick length straining against his sweatpants. even through the soft fabric you could feel how hard he was—hot, heavy, twitching under your touch when you wrapped your hand around him slow.
your eyes softened, something warm and needy blooming in your chest. you squeezed once, light, testing, feeling the way he throbbed against your palm. his hips jerked forward involuntary, a quiet hiss slipping between his teeth.
“fuck…” he breathed, forehead dropping to rest against yours. his fingers inside you had gone still again, just resting there, letting you clench around them while your hand explored him. he didn’t push your hand away—didn’t rush you—just let you feel him, thumb brushing slow over the head through the fabric where a damp spot had started to form.
you bit your lip, eyes flicking down to where your hand moved over him, then back up to his face. his ears were flushed deep red, jaw tight like he was holding himself back by a thread. the hoodie sleeve had ridden up higher on his arm, forearm flexing with every small shift, veins standing out under his skin.
“megumi…” your voice came out small, needy. you stroked him again, firmer this time, watching the way his eyes fluttered shut for a second, lashes dark against his cheeks.
he swallowed hard, throat working. “you don’t have to—”
“i want to.” you cut him off soft, hand slipping under the waistband of his sweatpants now, fingers wrapping around bare skin—hot, velvet-hard, thick enough your fingers didn’t quite meet. he groaned low in his throat when you touched him skin-to-skin, hips rocking up into your grip once before he caught himself.
his free hand came up, cupped your jaw, thumb tracing your bottom lip again. “you sure?”
you nodded, leaning in to kiss him slow, tongue brushing his while your hand stroked him base to tip, slow and deliberate like he’d done to you. he kissed you back deeper, hungrier now, fingers finally moving again inside you—lazy curls that matched the rhythm of your hand on him.
the car felt smaller, hotter, windows fogged thick enough the outside world was gone. just wet sounds, heavy breathing, the way his thumb pressed your clit in time with your strokes, building you both up slow and steady.
he broke the kiss to murmur against your mouth, voice wrecked and low. “keep goin.”
you kissed his lips one last time—soft, lingering—before your hand slipped lower, tugging the waistband of his sweatpants down just enough. his dick sprang free, hard and heavy against his stomach, pink tip already glistening, thick and lengthy enough that your eyes blew wide when you saw it. veins standing out along the shaft, flushed dark at the base. you weren’t even sure if you could fit it all in your mouth, the thought making your stomach flip with nerves and want.
but you tried.
you leaned down slow, breath fanning over him first. lips brushed the tip—warm, soft—and he let out the softest moan, barely there, like it slipped out against his will. the sound sent a fresh pulse of heat between your legs. you sucked the head gentle, tongue swirling once around the slit, tasting the salt and the faint bead of pre-cum. your hand wrapped around the base—fingers not quite meeting—and stroked slow, steady, matching the rhythm of your mouth.
he moved your curls out the way careful, both hands coming up to hold your hair, fingers threading through the strands loose at first, then tighter when your tongue pressed flat along the underside. he couldn’t believe his best friend’s sister was eating his dick—right here in the front seat, sweatpants shoved down, crop top riding up, the faint smell of weed and caramel still hanging in the air. the thought alone almost made him nut in your mouth, hips twitching up once before he caught himself.
“fuck—you suck my dick so good.” his words came out breathy, almost guttural, cracking at the edges like he was already so close. no cocky edge, just raw, wrecked honesty. his thumbs stroked the sides of your face gentle even as his grip in your hair tightened, guiding you down a little more without pushing too hard.
you hollowed your cheeks, taking him deeper—lips stretching around his thickness, tongue working the vein underneath while your hand pumped what wouldn’t fit. spit slicked him up quick, dripping down to your fingers, making every stroke wet and smooth. his breathing turned ragged, chest heaving under the hoodie, small huffs of air escaping every time you bobbed your head.
“shit… just like that,” he whispered, voice strained. one hand left your hair to brace against the dashboard, knuckles white, like he needed something to hold onto. the other stayed in your curls, petting now—gentle strokes that made your scalp tingle. his hips rocked up shallow, careful not to choke you, but enough that you felt him hit the back of your throat once, twice.
your eyes watered a little from the stretch, but you didn’t stop—sucked harder on the upstroke, swirled your tongue around the head every time you pulled back. the wet sounds filled the car, mixing with his soft groans and the low idle of the engine. windows fogged thicker, streetlights barely cutting through.
he looked down at you—eyes dark, half-lidded, lips parted. “you’re gonna make me cum if you keep—fuck—”
his thighs tensed under you, abs flexing hard under the hoodie. he tugged your hair once, light, like a warning.
you moaned around him. vibration humming down his length, and took him deeper one last time, nose brushing his pelvis, throat working to swallow around him. that did it.
he came with a choked groan, low and broken, hips jerking up as he spilled hot and thick down your throat. you swallowed what you could, the rest dripping from the corners of your mouth when you pulled back slow, gasping for air. his dick twitched against your tongue one last time, spent but still hard.
he panted heavy, head dropped back against the seat, eyes closed for a second. then he opened them, looked at you. lips swollen, chin messy, curls wild from his hands. something soft flickered in his expression.
“cmere,” he murmured, voice hoarse and low, still rough from everything.
he pulled you up gentle, one hand steady on your waist while the other wiped the corner of your mouth with his thumb—catching the last of his nut. then he kissed you deep-slow, tongue sliding in without hesitation, tasting himself on you like it was nothing. hand cupped your jaw firm but soft, thumb stroking the line of your cheek, keeping you close.
you broke the kiss first, breathing uneven, eyes bright and eager. pupils blown wide, lips parted and shiny. you looked at him like you were still starving, like nothing would be enough until you had all of him.
you hooked your thumbs into the waistband of your sweatpants and shoved them all the way off—gray fabric sliding down your legs, kicking them to the floor mat with your clogs. panties went next, tugged down quick and tossed aside. bare now from the waist down except the crop top still bunched high under your tits, thighs slick and trembling in the dashboard glow.
megumi watched every second of it, dark blue eyes tracking the way the material pooled around your ankles then disappeared. a soft smile tugged at his lips. quiet, almost fond, like he couldn’t believe you were this bold.
“what?” you asked, a slight attitude in your voice, head tilting as you caught him staring.
he rubbed his lips with his thumb once, slow, like he was buying time. “nothing—tryna figure out how we’re gonna fuck in my car.” slight sarcasm laced the words, but his eyes stayed soft, hungry.
you rolled your eyes, small huff leaving you. “push your seat back so i can ride you duh?”
he huffed a quiet laugh—barely there, more breath than sound. didn’t argue. just reached down with one hand, found the lever under the seat, and shoved it all the way back. the seat reclined with a soft click, giving you more room, his legs spreading a little wider under you.
his dick still hard, flushed pink at the tip bobbed against his stomach when he settled, hoodie riding up higher to show the cut of his abs.
you didn’t wait. shifted forward, knees bracing on either side of his hips now that nothing was in the way. bare skin against bare skin, heat meeting heat. reached down between you, wrapped your fingers around him.
hot, thick and twitching in your grip. lined him up slow, rubbing the head through your wet folds twice, teasing yourself until you both moaned.
his hands came to your hips. palms warm, fingers digging in just enough to steady you. no rush, no push. just holding, waiting for you to take what you wanted.
you sank down slow. inch by inch, feeling the stretch, the burn, the way he filled you up deep and thick. your breath hitched up, thighs trembling as you bottomed out, he groaned low in his throat, head tipping back against the headrest for a second, eyes squeezing shut.
“fuck…” he breathed, voice wrecked and rough. hands flexed on your hips, thumbs stroking slow over the soft curve there. “kiss me.”
the words came out more stern than usual, low and commanding in that quiet way he had. you rushed forward, crashing your lips to his, desperate and messy. your pussy clenched down hard around him the second your mouths met—fluttering tight against his fat dick, walls pulsing like they were trying to pull him deeper. a small whimper slipped into his mouth, muffled by his tongue sliding in slow to meet yours.
his hands slid down, gripped your ass firm—fingers digging into the soft flesh—and he lifted you up easy, just enough to slide almost all the way out before he fucked back into you slow. deep, controlled thrusts that made your toes curl against the seat. every time he bottomed out again you moaned into his mouth, the sound vibrating between you.
your hands gripped his face first—palms cupping his jaw, thumbs brushing the sharp line there—then slid up into his hair, fingers threading through the dark strands. you tilted his head to the side, pressing it back against the cool window glass so you could kiss him deeper, tongue curling with his while he kept that slow rhythm—lifting you, dropping you, grinding up every time your hips met.
“fuuck—feel so good—” he groaned in pieces, words breaking against your lips between kisses. voice low and wrecked, cracking at the edges. his breathing turned heavier, chest heaving under the hoodie, abs flexing hard every time he thrust up.
one hand stayed locked on your ass, guiding the pace, while the other slid up your back under the crop top, palm flat and warm against bare skin, holding you close so your tits pressed tight to his chest.
you rocked down harder to meet him, hips rolling in small circles when he was buried deep, clit grinding against his pelvis. pleasure sparked sharp every time, making your thighs shake around him.
you pulled his hair a little harder. tilting his head more, kissing along his jaw, down to the soft spot under his ear, sucking light until he hissed and his hips snapped up sharper once.
“megumi…” your voice came out small, needy, muffled against his neck. you wanted to speed up—your body was screaming for it, hips twitching like they had a mind of their own—but megumi only held you down firmer, palms locked on your ass, keeping you seated deep. he gave you little circle thrusts instead—slow, deliberate grinds that dragged the head of his dick right over your g-spot, teasing it relentless. your eyes rolled back, lashes fluttering, a shaky whimper slipping out before you could stop it.
until his phone rang—sharp, cutting through everything.
“shit.” he cursed under his breath, low and annoyed. he glanced at the screen. your brother. of course.
he answered the facetime without thinking twice, thumb swiping quick, then propped the phone up on the arm rest so the camera caught mostly his face and the dark interior of the car. you gripped his shoulders harder. nails digging through the hoodie. heart slamming in your chest, panic mixing with the pleasure still pulsing low in your stomach.
megumi didn’t stop moving. still fucked you slow, hips rolling in tiny, shallow circles that kept the wet sounds faint but constant. your soft moans leaked out anyway. quiet, breathy, impossible to hide completely.
“yo? where y’all at?” your brother asked, voice tinny through the speaker. he was back in megumi’s room. gray comforter still bunched on the bed.
megumi’s jaw clenched. he tried to keep his voice steady. “shit—nothing—makin’ runs.” but the words cracked at the end, a groan slipping in when your pussy clenched tight around him again. fluttering hard from the slow drag over your spot. he bit the inside of his cheek, eyes flicking down to you for a split second.
dark and warning.
you couldn’t help it. the fear made everything sharper. you ground down against his deep, slow strokes—hips circling needy—and that drove him crazy. his grip on your ass tightened, fingers digging in.
“fuuck—” he moaned, low and broken, trying to swallow it but failing.
your brother’s face balled up on the screen—brows furrowing, suspicious. “oh word—where my sister?”
megumi’s breathing hitched. he forced his voice even, but it came out rougher than he wanted. “she’s… right here.” he shifted the phone just a fraction—enough that the camera caught the top of your head.
your curls spilling over his shoulder, but not low enough to show anything else. your face stayed buried in his neck, lips pressed to skin to muffle the next whimper when he gave another slow, deep grind.
you felt him throb inside you—harder now, like the risk was turning him on even more. your thighs trembled around his hips, slick dripping down where you were joined.
your brother paused on the screen. “she good? put her on.”
megumi’s hand slid up your back under the crop top calm, steady thumb stroking your spine like he was telling you to breathe. he didn’t stop moving, just kept those shallow, teasing rolls that kept you fluttering around him.
“h-hello?” you managed, voice shaky, waiting for your brother to respond. megumi picked up his pace right then—going a little faster, a little harder. hips snapping up just enough to make your breath hitch loud.
“you good? mom called you?” your brother asked, squinting at the screen. he could only see the top of your head, curls spilling over megumi’s shoulder, the car ceiling behind you. “put yo’ face in the screen.” he demanded, voice sharper.
you moaned softly. couldn’t hold it back. trying to hide it in your throat but megumi’s dick hit that spot again, heat racing up your back, making your toes curl against the seat. “i’m—no she didn’t call me.”
your brother leaned up closer to the phone hearing th faint noises. his face twisted mad. “what the fuck—megumi i know damn well you ain’t fuckin’ my little sister.”
megumi laughed—low, breathy, almost surprised at himself. the sound vibrated through his chest into yours. he didn’t stop thrusting, just slowed it back to those deep, lazy circles that made your eyes roll again.
“relax,” he said, voice rough but steady, like he wasn’t buried balls-deep in you right now. “she’s fine. we just… talkin’.”
your brother’s face got darker on the screen. “talkin’? nigga i hear her breathin’ like that. move the phone—let me see her face.”
megumi glanced down at you. eyes dark, lips parted, a tiny smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth now. he shifted the phone higher with his free hand, angling it so the camera caught more of your face.
lips swollen, eyes glassy and half-lidded. you bit your lip hard to keep quiet, but another slow grind from him pulled a small, broken whimper out anyway.
your brother sucked his teeth loud. “yo—y’all really out here? in the fuckin’ car? megumi i swear—”
megumi cut him off calm, still moving inside you slow and deep, making your thighs shake harder. “she’s safe. we’re good. i got her.”
you gripped his shoulders tighter, nails digging in, trying to stay still but your hips rolled down on instinct—chasing the friction. megumi’s breath hitched quiet, hand flexing on your ass to hold you down.
your brother rubbed his face, frustrated. “man…take her ass home. now. megumi—if you hurt her—”
“i won’t.” megumi’s voice dropped lower, serious for the first time. “promise.”
your brother stared for a long second, face twisted up on the screen, then sighed heavy like the weight of it all hit him at once. “hell no— bring her back now. stop this shit.”
megumi didn’t flinch. didn’t even pause the slow grind of his hips. still deep inside you, still making your thighs shake every time he circled just right. his thumb kept stroking lazy up your spine under the crop top, calm as ever, like your brother wasn’t yelling at the phone.
“we’re good,” megumi said low, voice steady even though you felt him throb harder when your pussy clenched again from the tension. “she’s safe. i’ll bring her home when she’s ready.”
your brother sucked his teeth louder, leaning closer to the camera. “nigga you got my sister in the car—fucking her? my little sister.”
you reached for megumi’s phone quick—fingers fumbling—and hung it up. the little hang-up noise cut through sharp, screen going black. the second it did, you let go—moaning loud against his neck, no more holding back.
you slapped your ass down hard to meet his dick, the wet smack echoing in the car. “oh my god.” your eyes rolled back to the stars, lashes fluttering, whole body lighting up from the inside.
megumi watched you—bottom lip caught between his teeth, dark blue eyes locked on every twitch of your face, every bounce of your curls with each thrust. he didn’t say much, just let his hands grip your hips tighter, guiding you down harder while he rolled up slow to meet you halfway.
your curls bounced wild—sweat-damp strands sticking to your neck, your shoulders—as you rode him faster now, no restraint. the car rocked with it, seats creaking faint under the rhythm.
“oh my god you feel so go—” you winced, gripping his shoulders hard, nails digging through the hoodie fabric. thighs shaking, pussy fluttering tight around his thick length every time you bottomed out.
“how—how good?” he asked, voice rough, breathy, picking up his pace to match yours—deeper, harder, hips snapping up sharp. your legs shook worse, knees buckling against the seat.
you could barely respond—words dissolving into an inaudible moan, high and broken, spilling out against his collarbone. your head tipped back, mouth open, curls falling wild down your back. every thrust punched the air out of you, pleasure spiking sharp and hot up your spine.
megumi’s hand slid up—cupped the back of your neck gentle but firm—pulling you down so your forehead rested against his. “tell me,” he murmured, lips brushing yours between thrusts. “how good—say it.”
“so—so—ugh-so good,” you gasped out finally, voice cracking. “megumi—right there—don’t stop!”
he groaned low—hips stuttering once when you clenched hard around him. “yeah?” his thumb brushed your cheek quick, wiping a stray tear from the intensity.
“gonna cum on my dick? right here?”
“mhmm.” you sucked at your bottom lip.
“gonna let me nut in you.” he fucked into you harder now, hands locking on your hips, holding you down so every thrust bottomed out deep, the head of his dick kissing that spot over and over.
“yes—yes please.” the words tumbled out.brain foggy and breathless, knowing damn well you weren’t on any birth control. the thought barely registered.
just heat and want and the way he filled you up so completely you couldn’t think straight. you didn’t think he’d actually do it
he watched you close. dark blue eyes locked on every flicker of your face, one hand sliding up into your curls, fingers threading gentle but firm to tilt your head back so he could see you better.
the other stayed clamped on your hip, guiding the rhythm, keeping you flush when you tried to lift too high.
“tell me how much you want this nut.” voice low, rough, almost a growl. he didn’t speed up. just kept that deep, steady grind, dragging every inch in and out slow enough to make your thighs shake harder.
your eyes fluttered closed, lips parted on a shaky breath. “r-really bad. nut in my pussy please—please megumi.”
something shifted in his expression.
softened for a split second, then darkened again, pupils blown wide. he leaned in, nose brushing yours, lips ghosting over your mouth without kissing you.
“yeah? you want it that bad?” he murmured, hips rolling slow circles now, grinding deep so you felt every thick inch pressing against your walls.
you nodded fast, frantic. nails digging into his shoulders through the hoodie. “yes—please—i want it—want you to nut in me—daddy!”
he groaned quiet—almost pained—then kissed you hard, tongue sliding in deep while his thrusts turned sharper, faster. the car rocked with it, wet sounds louder, your moans spilling into his mouth. his hand in your curls tightened just a little, holding you there so he could swallow every sound.
pussy fluttering wild around him. and that was it. his hips snapped forward one last time, burying deep, holding you flush as he came. hot, thick pulses spilling inside you, filling you up until you felt it leak out around his dick..
he groaned low into your neck, arms wrapping tight around your waist, keeping you seated while he throbbed through every spurt.
you shook hard. another wave crashing over you from the feeling alone, thighs clamping, back arching, a broken cry muffled against his shoulder as your pussy milked him dry.
then it hit you.
“megumii—” you whined, voice small and shaky, lifting up slow off his lap. his dick slipped out with a wet sound, falling heavy against the black hoodie, still twitching a little. you looked down between your legs—bare thighs spread over his, and saw his nut already dripping out, thick white cream sliding slow down your inner thigh, pooling on the seat beneath you.
“what?” he said calmly, with a bit of question in his voice, like he genuinely didn’t see the problem yet. he leaned back against the seat, breathing still heavy, one hand resting loose on your hip while the other rubbed slow at the back of his neck.
“megumi—did you really just nut in me?” your fingers dipped between your folds quick. feeling the warmth, the slick mix of both of you.
then pulled back, white cream coating your fingertips. you held them up like evidence, eyes wide, heart suddenly slamming harder than it had during the whole thing.
he glanced down at your hand, then back to your face. rubbed his neck a little harder, ears flushing red again in the dashboard glow. “you told me to?”
you blinked. “i—yeah but—” your voice cracked, half-laugh half-panic. “i didn’t think you’d actually do it. like… for real.”
he exhaled slow through his nose, eyes flicking to where his cum was still leaking out of you, then back up. no smirk, no joke—just that quiet, steady stare he always had.
“you said please. a lot.” he shrugged one shoulder, voice low. “thought you meant it.”
you stared at him, mouth open a little. the car felt smaller suddenly, air thicker. your thighs still trembled from the aftershocks, pussy dripping slower now, staining the edge of his hoodie where it bunched up.
“megumi…” you whispered, fingers still sticky. “i’m not on anything.”
he paused. really paused. the calm cracked just a fraction—jaw tightening, eyes searching your face like he was replaying every word you’d said in the last ten minutes.
“shit,” he muttered under his breath, hand dropping from his neck to your thigh. thumb stroked once over the soft skin there, gentle, almost apologetic. “you serious?”
you nodded fast, curls bouncing. “deadass. no pill, no shot, nothing.”
he rubbed his face with one hand. slow, like he was processing, then looked back at you. no panic in his voice, just quiet.
“okay.”
“okay?” you echoed, voice pitching up.
“yeah.” he sat up a little straighter, hands sliding to your waist to steady you. “we’ll figure it out. pharmacy’s open late. we can get plan b right now if you want. or tomorrow. whatever you need.”
“aw megumi.” you wrapped your arms around his neck in a tight hug, face burying into the crook of his shoulder. his hoodie smelled like him. faint weed,body spray, and now sex. you squeezed harder, curls tickling his jaw.
his face went back to that boring look. blank, almost indifferent, dark blue eyes half-lidded like he was already thinking three steps ahead. but you felt it.
the way his arms came around you slow, careful, one hand settling at the small of your back, the other cradling the back of your head like he didn’t want you to pull away. he didn’t say anything. didn’t need to. he loved every second of this with you.
you stayed like that for a beat—engine humming low, windows fogged, night pressing in—until the thought hit you harder.
“wait—what if it doesn’t work?” you pushed back just enough to look at his face, hands still looped around his neck. your brows furrowed, eyes searching his.
he sighed. like you’d asked a dumb question, but soft, no edge to it. jus patient. he rubbed slow circles on your lower back under the crop top, eyes flicking down to where his cum was still leaking slow between your thighs, then back up to meet your gaze.
“then we figure that out too,” he said quiet, voice low and even. “together.”
you blinked fast, throat tight. “you’d… really?”
he nodded once—simple, no hesitation. “yeah. whatever happens. happens— i’m not leavin’ you.” his thumb brushed your cheek again, wiping away nothing this time, just touching.
a small laugh slipped out of you—shaky, relieved. you leaned your forehead against his, curls falling forward to curtain both your faces.
“you’re gonna be a dad at like… twenty-something?” you whispered, half-joking, half-serious.
he huffed soft—almost a laugh—nose brushing yours, breath warm against your lips. his eyes flicked up to meet yours, dark blue steady in the dim dashboard light.
“i’m starting to think you want this.” he looked up at you, hands still on your hips, thumbs stroking slow.
you blinked, caught off guard. heat rushed back to your cheeks—different from the sex heat, more nervous, more real. you bit your bottom lip, curls falling forward to curtain half your face.
“maybe i do,” you admitted small, voice cracking a little. “a little. like… not right now, not like this, but—” you shrugged one shoulder, eyes dropping to where his hoodie was still bunched up, stained and messy from both of you. “the idea doesn’t scare me as much as it should. with you.”
he didn’t say anything right away. just watched you, expression blank like always, but his grip on your hips tightened—just a fraction, enough to feel protective. his thumbs kept moving, slow circles that felt like he was thinking hard.
“yeah?” he finally murmured, voice low. “you’d really want that? me as the dad?”
you nodded slow, fingers playing with the strings of his hoodie. “you’re… calm. steady. you don’t freak out. even when my brother was on the phone yelling, you didn’t lose it. you just… handled it.” you looked up at him again, lashes fluttering. “i’d want someone like that. someone who’d stay.”
he exhaled slow through his nose, eyes searching yours for a long beat. then he leaned in, forehead resting against yours again, curls mixing with his dark hair.
“i’d stay,” he said simple, quiet, like it was fact. “no question.”
your heart squeezed—hard. you wrapped your arms around his neck tighter, pulling him closer until your chests pressed together, heartbeat thumping against his.
“but we’re still getting the plan b,” you whispered against his ear, half-laughing. “i’m not tryna have a baby in the back of your car tonight.”
he huffed again. closer to a real laugh this time—arms sliding around your waist to hold you flush. “okay.” he kissed the side of your head softly. then pulled back just enough to look at you.
“okay let’s go to the pharmacy and then get you some food.”
his lashes fluttered as he looked up at you. your arms still around him, “okay.” you didn’t want to move—didn’t want the warmth of him, the steady rise and fall of his chest under your palms, to end. you wanted to stay like this forever, skin to skin, messy and close. “i wanna stay like this for a minute.”
his lashes fluttered as he looked up at you—slow blink, almost surprised, but no protest. your arms stayed looped around his neck, fingers playing absent with the soft hair at his nape. “okay.”
and you did.
you let your head drop to his shoulder, cheek pressed to the worn black hoodie that smelled like him. weed, body spray, sex, and now you. your breathing slowed, matching his. the car was quiet except for the faint tick of the cooling engine and the occasional distant car passing on the main road.
his nut still leaked slow from you, warm and sticky between your thighs, dripping onto his sweatpants where they bunched at his hips, but you didn’t care. didn’t move to fix it.
you knew he’d handle it. knew he’d take care of the mess, the plan b, whatever came next, without making you feel small about it.
he eased back against the seat careful, reclining it a little more so you could settle comfortably. one arm stayed wrapped around your lower back, hand splayed wide to keep you secure.
the other reached over, cracked the driver’s side window just an inch. cool night air slipping in, carrying the faint smell of pine and distant rain.
then he cut the engine completely. silence wrapped around you both, broken only by his soft, even breathing and the occasional rustle of your curls against his neck when you shifted in your sleep.
he didn’t sleep right away. just sat there. still inside the moment with you draped over him like you belonged there. his free hand came up slow, fingers threading gentle through your curls, stroking from root to tip in lazy, soothing motions.
he watched the way your lashes rested against your cheeks, the soft part of your lips, the way your body finally relaxed completely against his after everything.
minutes stretched. maybe ten, maybe twenty. he didn’t check the time. just let you rest, thumb brushing slow circles on your bare back under the crop top when you sighed in your sleep. his own breathing stayed steady, calm, even though his heart was still thumping harder than usual under your palm.
you stirred a little, moving closer without waking fully. he huffed soft again, almost a laugh.
he kissed the top of your head one more time, then let his own eyes close for a bit. not sleeping, just resting.
the pharmacy could wait another few minutes. the wings could wait. your brother’s texts, probably blowing up his phone by now could wait.
right now it was just this.
you asleep on his chest, safe in his arms, his cum still warm inside you, the night quiet around the car.
he’d wake you soon. get the plan b. get food. take you home. or back to his place if you asked.
“But I, just want to feel you're there. And I don't want to have to share our love. I try, but I get overwhelmed. When you're gone, I have no one to tell” -Cellophane, FKA Twigs
summary: after the abrupt end of your relationship with Michael, you have a moment of pettiness and decide to unfollow Michael, which leads to a media frenzy. While trying to recover from heartbreak, you decide to go on a girls' trip, which shows Michael that he may have fumbled big time.
author’s note: Hi everybody! I just wanted to start off by saying thank you to everyone who’s shown me love on part one of Cellophane. Honestly, I was so nervous to post it because I am a perfectionist at heart. I hope that you all enjoy part two, and please let me know if you have any special requests! Also, Happy Holidays to everyone!
Let’s face the facts: the internet is a messy place. Drama and gossip are what keep the lights on. Whether it be the Shaderoom or TMZ, the recent fallout of your questionable relationship with Michael had made headlines, and the internet was relentlessly tearing into both of you. Let’s rewind for a second. Initially, the internet had no idea about your recent breakup with one of Hollywood’s most eligible bachelors. Fans eagerly waited to see if you or Michael would be posting any subliminals to hint at the demise of your relationship. Neither you nor Michael had made any moves to clear the air, and maybe that was for the best.
Until it wasn’t.
Call it a moment of pettiness or childishness, but you had unwittingly unleashed Pandora’s Box with one simple move.
You unfollowed Michael.
To anyone with a job or less time on their hands, they’d say, “Well, she just unfollowed him. No big deal. People unfollow each other all the time.” But to people who loved mess and especially loved other people’s mess, this was a declaration of separation. You didn’t need to make a big post announcing your split from Michael. No, this simple unfollowing was statement enough.
@theshaderoom: Ooop roomies..looks like things are rocky between our favs, Yn and Michael B. Jordan. Looks like YN unfollowed Michael B. Jordan, but he’s still following her! If y’all remember, Michael B. Jordan and YN have been very cozy since filming Sinners, and many fans speculated that they may have been in a secret relationship. Recently, MBJ made some comments about wanting to explore his character’s relationship with Hailee Steinfeld’s character, which sent the internet into a frenzy. Looks like our girl, YN, had just unofficially announced that they’re done. What do we think, roomies? 👀
@ynsbiggestfan: As she should! He literally played in her face!
@thathotgirlgerri: Bro watch she finna pop out with the biggest rebrand and with the finest man!
@jayla101@thathotgirlgeri: She could literally do the funniest thing ever and pull Lewis Hamilton!
@ynfanpage: I just know Michael in shambles right now. Who fumbles THE YN frfr?!?!
@johnnystacks: Y’all women tripping. Hailee really badder than YN. Yall act like people can’t have preferences
@ynsfanpage @johnnystacks: Johnny be fr, please buy some more jeans for your pictures before you step into grown folks business! 😐
@ynsbiggestfan: I swear it always be the dudes that’s built like a Newport trynna say something 😒
Unfortunately, not even you were above heartbreak. During the first weeks after your last message to Michael, you spent it sitting on your couch watching Studio Ghibli movies. You weren’t too prideful to admit that you missed Michael. You found yourself checking your phone every hour to see if he had reached out. It only hurt you more because each time you checked, there was always a text message from him.
Michael:
Please just give me one chance to explain.
Despite your heart’s insistence, you continued to ignore his calls and messages. There were multiple times during the weeks that flowers had been delivered to your home. All sunflowers and all titled with notes that said, “You’re always going to be my sunshine.” One particular day, you received a call from Michael, which obviously went unanswered. However, you noticed a voicemail being left. It wasn’t until later that you began listening to it.
On the phone, there was a brief moment of silence before Michael started to speak. Voice low and soft, “Hey, baby. I know that we aren’t talking, but I still wanted to call you. I’m sorry. I know what I said in the interview, but I didn’t mean it the way that it came out. You’re the most talented and beautiful woman that I know. I’d work with you in every single timeline, baby. I haven’t felt this way about anyone in my life. Every day that I wake up, my first thought is of you. I can’t focus on my day without knowing that yours is going great. Every time that I think of you, I think about our future and how much I want you in mine. There isn’t a part of me that doesn’t love and care for you. You’re everything to me. I know that I hurt you, and I’m so sorry. Just please….don’t let it end like this.”
God, after that message, you wanted more than anything to reach out to him. But the thoughts of that interview and your creeping insecurity ultimately overpowered your decision to reach out to him. To make matters worse, you knew that you shouldn’t be entertaining social media, especially knowing how crazy things were now. It took one session of strolling through TikTok and an ill-fated compilation of moments between Michael and Hailee. Thus came the decision to unfollow him.
The third week of no contact, your friends decided that they couldn’t deal let you deal with a pity party any longer.
“Girl, you've been sitting in this house like a potato for weeks. You gotta get out of the house.” Alex said, plopping down next to you. Throughout this entire situation, your friends had been your lifeline. They’d spent every moment reminding you that you were deserving of love and that Michael fumbling you was the biggest mistake of his life.
Tommie sat on your left and gently grabbed your hand, “Yeah, sis. Look, I know this situation hasn’t been ideal for you, but you’re still that girl. The whole world is watching you and waiting for your next move, so what’s it gonna be? Sit and mope, or show them why you’ll always be the best.”
Looking at your three best friends, you felt a wave of energy settle over you.
They were right. You were that girl, and you’d always be that girl. If Michael couldn’t appreciate you, then you were better off without him. You didn’t need him or any of these other social media trolls to validate your self-worth. At that moment, you decided that it was time to focus on yourself and lock on.
The first move of action–a much-needed getaway.
On the other side of the country, Michael was going through it. These past couple of weeks were some of the toughest that he’d had in a while. Even though he was still currently filming for The Thomas Crown Affair, the vibes were still off. He didn’t like the fact that he had to be apart from you when things weren’t resolved. He decided to log out of all of his social media accounts for the time being. He couldn’t take the endless headlines and DMs from people who wanted to be in his business.
Feeling a buzzing come from his phone, he looked down to see a text message from Steelo.
Steelo:
Hey man, you might wanna check your girl’s IG. 👀😬
Logging back into his IG account, Michael felt a pit in the bottom of his stomach. Granted, he always had notifications for your IG turned on, but he was surprised to see you posting so soon.
@worldofyn: anyways…
Location: Jamaica
view comments
@megantheestallion: The REAL HOT GIRL 🔥🔥
@gabibaby: That’s my best friend, y’all.
@tommiegirl: aye ma lemme holla at you 😮💨
@alexx: i’m talm bout innnitttttt 😝
@chloebaily: body coffee cause tea aint strong enough ☕️
@serenapage: FAWKKKKK! 😫😩
@lewishamilton: prettiest girl in the world❤️ (Liked by worldofyn)
@ynsfanpage: im bouta start a rumor yall🤫
@ynsbiggestfan: wait, is this the start of a new ship?!?!
@ynlefttoe: bro she just liked it!!! YN Wag era loading….
@tyresehailburton: sheeshh😮💨
@ynfan: YN really got these men going in a frenzy. I know Michael's chest hurting
@gerithebaddest: YN said who got time to be moping over a man. My good sis done caught a flight💅
Michael continued to stroll through the comments, noting every man who flirted and left comments under your picture. He felt a sudden rush of anger flow through his chest. Even if you were posting like you were single, you’d always be his girl. Clicking on the icon for your IG stories, Michael was endlessly consumed by the videos that you had posted of yourself. There was one posing in the hotel mirror. Curly hair, fluffy and full from a day of traveling. The next showed a video of you recording yourself and your friends dancing in the mirror. Each video became progressively more and more turnt. Michael also noted that in each video, you were starting to wear fewer and fewer clothes.
Thinking about all of the thirsty niggas who had watched those videos and more than likely slid up, Michael felt a deep void of jealousy fill his chest. Navigating to your friend’s stories for more videos of you, Michael caught one video that sent him into a fury.
The dark of the night was illuminated by candles everywhere. Tommie held the phone towards your direction, where you were wearing a two-piece black set that hugged every curve of your body. A band was playing a slow and melodic tune, and there you stood, grinding your body against the body of a dark-skinned man with dreads. The man appeared to be whispering in your ear, and you lifted your head to let out a loud laugh. Even though he couldn’t hear it clearly, Michael visualized the melody throughout his head. He’d spend more days and minutes drawing that laugh from you.
Now this. This was a step too far. There were a lot of things in Michael’s life that he’d play about: his family, his career, his morals, and you.
He’d let you have your fun for now. He’d let you revel in this newfound moment of freedom and liberation, but soon, he’d show you that he wasn’t one to play around.
He wasn’t one of those little boys who liked to play games.
No, when it came to you, there was nothing to play or laugh about.
He’d have you back. Not on some selfish or possessive stuff, but because ultimately, he loves you and he can’t imagine being without you.
_________________________________________________
As a wise-toxic man once said, "Life is good."
And you really meant it. This girl's trip was just what you needed to recover from your heartbreak. You wouldn't front like it didn't still hurt to not be with Michael, but maybe this was for the best. Maybe, one day you'd look back on this and catch all of the gems from the situation.
Right now, you couldn't focus on the future. Right now, the present was all you needed.
You and your friends sat around the living room of your villa and casually strolled through your respecitive social medias.
Alex broke the silence first, "Girl, they eating your pictures up! I've literally never had so many people begging to join my close friends."
You all let out laughs. The response from your pictures went just as you all had predicted. You knew that people were going to be watching your moves, and what better show to give them than to show you living your best life with your girls.
As stated above, Life is good.
But one thing you gotta know about life is that she's the pettiest hoe in the room and she loves to have the last laugh.
Feeling your phone buzz in your hand, you turned it over and froze at the notification from IG.
Michael B. Jordan liked your picture.
Michael B. Jordan commented on your picture: ❤️
this nigga.
"Look y'all," you said, turning your phone to your friends.
"Dang. I probably would've took him back by now," Tommie said. Gabi, Alex, and you quickly turned your heads toward her.
"What! Yall know I'm a romantic. I just be talking a big game! Shoot that voicemail would have had me at his house immediately."
Gabi smacked her lips, "Now weren't you the one talking about blowing his house up?"
Tommie rolled her eyes, "Y'all know I be overreacting. I'm still down for that by the way...if y'all on that type of timing."
"Tommie aint nobody blowing up that boy house!"
"Yall so scary!"
A moment of silence overtook you all before you erupted into laughter. Tommie had always been the one out of your group to act first and think of consequences later, but she was always ride or die.
After your laughter stopped, Alex spoke up, "She does have a point though. Look what Mike did was pure bs....but I think he is really sorry. I've been watching you since y'all started talking, and I swear I've never seen you get like this about anybody. That type of relationship that y'all have....that's rare, and I'd hate to see you miss out on it because you didn't give him a chance to at least talk."
You thought it over. As much as you were mad and hurt over the situation, you really did care for Michael. There was an aspect of it that consisted of you protecting yourself and trying to avoid further heartbreak. But truthfully, you missed him.
And you were in love with him.
The thought sent a shockwave through your system. Before you knew it, your vision started to become foggy from tears. You didn't even realize that the tears had started to flow down your face until Gabi reached to wipe your face.
"What's going through your head?" She asked.
"I think I love him...and I think that fact has been scaring me for a while now."
Just as you spoke the words, a knock sounded throughout the villa.
Alex spoke up, "Tommie, did you order room service?"
"Nope, wasn't me."
Alex told all of that she'd get the door while you continued to talk. Walking to the door, Alex grabbed the door and opened it. She froze before stopping to stare at the person in front of her.
In all of his glory and heartache, there stood Michael.
Warnings: bitchy!reader, evil!reader, smut, drgging, forced proximity, reader is kind of a narcissist, CAMERON IS DOWN BAD, fluff, black fem reader
Enjoy!
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Cameron hated Hollywood parties.
The fake energy. The cameras pretending not to be cameras. The people pretending not to be pretending. Every time he walked into one of those velvet-rope gatherings, it felt like somebody put a spotlight on his back
But tonight he swore he was minding his own damn business. He had his drink and sported his nicely pressed tuxedo, leaning against the marble like he was just another statue the owner had paid for.
And then she had walked in.
Syrenity Laurent.
The nepo-baby princess of the Laurent family.
That perfect posture and strut in her walk like it had been practiced for years.
Silky straight bundles down her back, diamond studs like tiny stars.
Designer gown clinging to a nice curvaceous body, sashaying throughout the mansion.
'damn she got a ass on her' he thought
She didn't look at people—she looked past them.
When she passed Cameron the first time, she didn't even offer the courtesy Hollywood smile celebrities give when they're pretending to be humble.
She straight up looked him up and down.
And scoffed.
Like no matter how much money he had now—she looked at him as scum
Cameron bit the inside of his cheek. Hard.
He'd been through situations like this one too many times. He wasn't even in the mood for disrespect, not tonight.
But she doubled back.
Lifted her champagne flute.
And said in her soft, posh voice
"I didn't know they let just anyone into these events." She said despite knowing who he was
Cameron blinked slowly.
"...What?" he muttered face turned up. "Who the hell is you talkin' to?"
She didn't flinch, same blank expression on her face. "You. Obviously."
He stared at her for a long moment—those brown eyes, that cold expression, that subtle smirk like she was daring him to react. She was a beauty he wouldn't lie
'But she definitely is a bitch ' he thought
"Man, look..." Cameron finally sighed, shaking his head. "I'on even wanna say what I'm thinkin'. So 'imma move before I get disrespectful."
"Enjoy the party beautiful." He spoke, lifting his champagne flute
And he walked off, leaving her astonished. The man was so sexy and well composed and it got under her skin.
He thought that was the last time he'd see the spoiled princess of L.A.
But hours later—after rounds of Reposado, Ciroc, Hennessy, and whatever else you could think of floating through the party in rotation—he felt a tap on his chest.
He looked down and it was none other than Syrenity looking up at him.
Her beautiful brown skin glowing under the lights, eyes glossy, lips stained with the deep matte red lipstick she wore, and, parted like she'd wanted to kiss him already. Not a trace of that stuck-up attitude, just desire in her eyes.. and what seemed to be curiosity.
"You left," she said softly
"You was bein' rude," Cameron mumbled. "Wasn’t finna argue with you."
"I wasn't trying to argue," she lied, leaning in. "I was... testing the waters." She spoke softly, looking up at him with her big brown eyes. Her eyes seemed to reel him in.
"Nah," Cameron chuckled dryly, sipping from his new glass. "You was actin' like an asshole." He mumbled looking her straight in the eyes. He could tell she was drunk off her ass and he was past tipsy himself.
Instead of being offended, she smiled.
A slow, wicked smile.
"Do you want to come upstairs with me?"
He froze. "What?"
"I said," she whispered, sliding her manicured hand up and down his chest, "do you want to come upstairs?" Grabbing his glass out his hand, he barely noticed too caught up in her.
The house was relatively dark so he couldn't see much but he looked at her like she had two heads.
"Girl you drunk as fuck and don't know what you askin' for.." he shook his head at her. She wasn't taking no for an answer pressing herself against him, his hand dropping to the dip of her back.
She pushed his glass up to his chest and he took it, the heavy eye contact never breaking.
"You're no fun. Just come upstairs with me?" She quirked her eyebrow at him and he smacked his teeth sipping from his glass, foolishly so.
He should've said no.
He should've remembered who he was, where he was, and the fact that unlike Hollywood babies, he could lose everything in a second.
Instead, he gave in and followed her.
The music downstairs thumped through the floor. A giant bedroom glowed purple with LED strips, a California king in the middle with not much else in the room, other than the huge flat screen on the wall and the single nightstand on the side.
Syrenity sat on the edge of the bed in front of Cameron gazing up at him a smirk cracked on her face. Cameron though, was woozy and could barely speak. He didn't even know where he was anymore.
"Aww, poor baby." She now stood up, "I know what'll make you feel better, baby boy." She cooed, knuckles brushing his face, and he wrapped his arms around her hips for stability.
"You ever tried ecstasy?" she asked softly
Cameron stared at her with dazed eyes. "N-nah." He whispered
He tried to stand on his own, as if he'd walk out,
‘But that just wasn’t possible possible.’ She thought
She smirked. "Oh, don't be like that handsome. It'll make you feel so good." "Both of us.." she trailed off pulling out a baggy of pills from her purse.
He shook his head weakly. "I can't—" head now on her shoulder
"shhh, it's okay. Take it and I promise you'll feel good." She slipped the blue pill past his lips, before taking hers.
Minutes later, the pill hit.
And everything was heightened.
"Ouuu you fucking me s-so good!" She whined in reverse cowgirl gripping his ankles, him gripping her wide hips. Breast bouncing as she slammed down on his long, thick dick.
The two had been three rounds in a row, the effects of the ecstasy keeping Cameron hard and Syrenity eager to drain his balls.
"fu-ughhh!" He moaned out, digging his nails into her hips turning her on even more. "Keep bouncin' on this shit.." he groaned out letting one cheek go to smack it when she slowed.
That did nothing but fuel her movements making her come down harder, clenching her warm gummy walls on his hard veiny piece.
The mix of their cum and arousal dripping down his balls as they tightened up. Both of their orgasms quickly approaching, he bear hugged her from behind rapidly thrusting his hips up into her, disrupting her pace.
"fuuuck! you so d-deep.." she whimpered out, nails digging into his veiny forearms. High-pitched moans spilling from her mouth every time his bulbous tip hit that spot inside her and his heavy balls slapped against her messy pussy.
He groaned out reaching for her heavy breast, tugging her brown nipples between his fingers.
"Ouu I'm cumming! Cum in this pussy, baby!" Her voice cracked heavy feeling snapping in her belly. Eyes rolling to the back of her head, her whole body feeling like she was overheating.
Cameron was right behind her with his sloppy strokes chasing his orgasm, "mhmm I'm nuttin' all in this shit. You havin' my fuckin' baby.." he moaned out pumping deep, emptying his balls inside her for the fourth time tonight.
Syrenity collapses on the side of him the two trying to recover from their heightened orgasms. Cameron's body felt tapped out but his erection would not go down.
That only fueled Syrenity, getting on all fours she was ready to go again despite her clit being swollen and overstimulated.
"Shit.. come fuck me Cameron.."
All he remembered after that was the two passing out with their mess leaking from her
Ecstasy or not, she knew what she was doing.
And he was gone.
Cameron woke up naked, sweating, and his head pounding. Syrenity was already at the mirror fixing her earrings.
"Morning," he croaked.
She didn't look at him. "You're loud."
"...I just said morning."
"I know. And it was loud."
He blinked. "..fuck you so rude for?"
"I'm being myself," she said flatly. Then she turned and smoothed her dress. "Anyway. I need you again tonight."
He sat up. "Need me for what?"
"For sex, Cameron. What else?" She turned looking at him like he was stupid
He stared at her.
"No good mornin', no thank you, no nothin'?"
She shrugged. "Your performance speaks for itself."
He rubbed his temples. "Wow."
"The sex was good, I'll give you that" she added. "But that's all." She grabbed her Chanel handbag, taking him in once more
"And your dick is sticky. Take a fucking shower.." she finalized walking out.
She said it so cold, but her thighs pressed together at the memories. The way he sexed her, she had to knock him down a couple of notches.
Or at least try.
And he knew then that he should've walked away.
But he didn't, and when she called late at night he delivered.
And that was the start.
They saw each other constantly. And at the same time not at all.
Syrenity would cling to him for days—rounds of sex, late night calls, giving him her attention —then disappear like he never existed.
Cameron hated the cycle.
But he hated how much he craved her more.
He'd send her flowers. Designer things. Send her money just because he wanted. She'd accept everything with zero regard for him and vanish for a week or two.
But this time? She'd been gone almost three months.
Cameron assumed it was done. Although he was hurt, he started talking to another girl. Nothing serious yet, they were just vibing.
Even posted a stupid TikTok with her—him goofing around, her laughing. Nothing romantic to him.
The comments called it the opposite of course, supporters shipping the two.
That didn't sit well with a certain someone when she saw it..
That night, he heard knocking.
Loud, purposeful knocking.
He checked the camera and it was no other than Syrenity.
Designer coat with the matching heels, sunglasses, face blank, and waiting. He opened the door.
"The fuck you doin' at my door?" he muttered, eyebrows furrowed
She brushed past him and walked in like she owned the place.
"I'm staying until your little friend leaves." She spoke simply taking a seat at his dining room table, where she could see everything
"What?"
"I speak very well, Cameron." She adjusted her shades
Cameron stared at her like she had lost her privileged ass mind.
"You ain't talk to me in months," he said slowly. "You ghosted me, used me, and now you wanna make demands?" He was about to tell her to leave but she cut in
"She needs to leave," Syrenity repeated calmly. "I'm not raising my voice. I'm not acting... ghetto. I'm telling you nicely."
Cameron swallowed.
"Syrenity, you gotta go, ma." He huffed stressed, running his hand over his buzzed head.
"No," she said, adjusting her sunglasses. "You shouldn't have let me in. Now get the bitch out." She took her shades off putting them away
"...You were done with me," he snapped, his brain scrambled he was so confused.
She didn't respond.
Just sat there, waiting.
Cameron pinched the bridge of his nose, then walked to his bedroom.
"Yo," he said to the girl. "Look—just go home. I'll hit you later."
Syrenity called out from the hallway, "No, he won't."
The girl glared, grabbed her bag, and walked past Syrenity, muttering, "Crazy bitch."
Syrenity didn't blink, just kept staring forward until she heard the front door slam.
Then Cameron turned to her and went off..
"The fuck is wrong with you?" he shouted. "How you gon' pop back up here like you ain't been completely gone for damn near three months? Huh? How you gon' tell another woman to get the hell out my house like you can do that?"
She looked him right in the face.
Still expressionless.
And that made him even angrier.
"No emotion," he growled. "None. I was pourin' into you, breakin' my neck tryna understand you, and all you do is act like you too damn good to care."
"I never said I was too good," she said quietly.
"You ain't have to say it," he snapped. "You act it. You a selfish bitch sometimes, Syrenity. Forreal."
The words hit her hard, and for a second her face stilled, then her eyes warmed, then filled.
"...Why would you say that," she whispered.
"Because it's the truth."
She blinked, big tears streaming instantly falling too fast, her tears coming all at once.
"You don't understand," she choked. "You don't..Cameron, you don't know what it's like to—"
"What?" he barked. "To what? Be rich as hell? Never have to grind for that shit? Fuck outta' here with that..."
She shook her head violently. "No! To not feel safe with anybody! To not trust anybody! To not know what love actually feels like—my parents never gave me attention unless cameras were around, they were never there. No hugs. No I love yous. Nothing. So I don't know how to... how to stay. How to handle it when someone makes me feel things that—" She broke down again
Her breath hitched. Trying to get up and leave, her knees buckled. She reached for the counter but missed and ended up clinging to Cameron's hoodie instead, sobbing into his chest.
"And I didn't want anyone else to have you," she cried frustrated. "Not after how you looked at me. How you touched me. How you were gentle with me. I didn't want anyone to replace me. I didn't want to share you with anyone ever...ever. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
Cameron exhaled, long and pained.
He lifted her easily, placing her onto the kitchen counter.
Wiped her cheeks with his thumbs.
"Damn, girl," he muttered. "You a whole crybaby under all that attitude." He chuckled
She tried to look away, but he held her chin. "Look at me." And she did.
Cameron kissed her slow, promising.
She kissed back like he was the air she needed to breathe.
When he pulled back, she chased his lips, whining softly.
"Cameron," she whispered, grabbing his hoodie. "Please... fuck me. Please. I need it."
He actually laughed, that stupid smile that made her heart jump.
"Nah." He shook his head at her
Her mouth fell open. "No?"
"That's what I said"
"But—"
"Nah. You not fixin' shit with sex no more," he said, stepping back from her legs even as she tried to hook them around him. "I ain't lettin' you disappear again just to pop back up when you feel like it. That cycle dead."
She stared at him, chest rising fast, fear creeping up again.
"So what do you want?" she whispered.
"I want you to go to therapy."
Syrenity froze. "Therapy."
"Yeah, therapy," he repeated. "You need to let all that shit your family put on you go. All that abandonment, all that fear, all that... whatever you got goin' on that make you run away every time I show you love."
She swallowed hard.
"And what if I don't want therapy?"
"Then we done."
And that made her damn chest hurt. "Cameron—"
"Nah," he said firmly. "I love bein' around you. I love the way you look at me when you actually let yourself feel. But I ain't lettin' you drain me of everything then throw me away."
Her voice shook. "I'm not throwing you away."
"You was damn close."
She looked down at her hands. "You're the only person who's ever made me feel safe. And that terrifies me."
"I know," he said softly. "But runnin' ain't gon' fix it."
She lifted her red eyes that were wet and desperate.
"And if I go?" she whispered. "If I actually do the work...you'll stay?
Cameron stepped between her legs, putting his forehead to hers.
"I been here," he murmured. "You the one runnin'. You show me you tryna change? I'm here witchu'."
A tear slid down her cheek.
"...Okay," she breathed. "I'll go."
"Good," he said, brushing his thumb along her jaw. "Then we startin' fresh. All that shit in the past. But no more disappearin', no more ghostin' me 'cause you scared."
She nodded slowly.
"Cameron?"
"Yeah?"
"Can you hold me... just for a little bit?"
He lifted her off the counter, held her against his chest, her thick thighs around his waist. She buried her face into his neck, breathing him in like he was a breath of fresh air.
And he held her tighter than he meant to.
They both knew she had a ways to go but this was a start
Thank yall for readinggg!!
It’s not crazy cam but don’t worry 😉
Thanksgiving tmr and I can’t wait to eatuhhhh.. I wish tyriq was on my plate
PAIRING: tyriq withers as “cameron ‘cam’ cade” from “him (2025)” x black!fem!plus-sized!reader
SUMMARY: in which your brother warns Cameron that you’re off limits and not to be flirted with or pursued by him, but Cameron takes his warning as a challenge to see how far he can go with you. 🩷
one thing about Cameron Cade is that whenever he wanted something, he was going to get it, no matter how long it took him to achieve it. he was a determined, headstrong man who went after whatever he wanted, regardless of who or what was in his way to stop him.
deep down inside, he wanted you, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to fully have you.
Cameron was friends with you brother — close friends, actually. they’d been close since their junior year of high school and got closer as the years passed. ironically enough, the two ended up going to same university and playing on the football team together, both of them being star players that shined at every game. the two were damn near like brothers, but when Cameron saw you?
his whole world rocked.
Cameron had been on you since he saw you, but your brother instantly ruled you off-limits. he didn’t want to risk Cameron potentially hurting you and he felt that it was disrespectful for his friend to date his sister, let alone think about it, so Cameron left you alone… until college, of course.
you ended up going to the same university with your brother and Cameron, so it only intensified the way Cameron felt about you. however, what made things worse is when you decided to move in with your brother at his off-campus apartment — which is where Cameron would be majority of the time if he wasn’t busy — so you wouldn’t have to drive an hour back and forth from your parents’ home to campus.
that’s when the flirting started.
it was subtle, of course. he’d do it so slyly your brother wouldn’t even pick up on it, but you did. he’d drop slick compliments when your brother wasn’t paying attention and his eyes would linger on you every time you passed him, his colored irises practically burning a hole into your figure.
he’d find every little excuse to touch you. whether it was him resting his hands on your chunky waist to move past you or if it was his fingers purposefully brushing yours whenever he’d go to hand you something, Cameron Cade was bound to find a way to put his hands on you without your brother catching on to his true intentions.
unfortunately for you, that was when you started catching feelings.
you forbade yourself from being alone with Cameron, but you didn’t know if it was because he was unpredictably persistent or if it was because you were close to folding under his pressure. every single small touch and slick flirtatious remark made by him only fueled the tension brewing between the two of you, and it was only a matter of time before it boiled over.
you hoped and practically prayed it wouldn’t boil over because you didn’t want to face the wrath of your brother, but you knew it eventually would — it was inevitable.
currently, it was around 2 o’clock in the morning and you stood in the kitchen in front of the open refrigerator, the light from the fridge shining on your facial features as your eyes searched for a past-midnight snack to settle your late-night cravings. the kitchen was dimly lit from the oven light and it illuminated the room as you stood in an old oversized shirt and some pajama shorts that effortlessly hugged your ass with your braids stowed away inside your bonnet.
it was now thanksgiving break at your university and you had a full week off to recuperate from your classes that had been kicking your ass and creating grey hairs in your hair since November started, especially since your finals for those classes would be here by early December. despite this, it was nice to finally be able to sleep in and lounge around without having to be plagued with frequent worry about assignment due dates, and you were thoroughly taking advantage of the newfound free time.
“knew i should’ve went to the store yesterday.” you murmured under your breath once nothing appetizing caught your eye as you reluctantly grabbed a bottle of water and went to shut the fridge door but the sight of an approaching figure made you nearly jump out of your skin, your body practically taking a screenshot while a squeal ripped through your chest.
“calm down, it’s just me.” the sound of Cameron’s voice nearly sent you across the room to create some distance between you and him, but the sound of his chuckle after his reassuring response made you want to jump his bones, so you ultimately let out a deep sigh and closed the refrigerator.
“you spent the night?” you asked, a small furrow forming between your brows, as Cameron nodded his head and leaned up against the door frame, “how come i ain’t know you was here?”
“you was takin’ a nap when i came over, so i ain’t bother you,” Cameron explained, crossing his arms across his bare chest, as he unashamedly eyed you up and down and admired your chunky physique, “why you up?”
“well, i was gon’ get a snack, but it ain’t shit in here since you and my brother ate up damn near the whole kitchen,” you half-joked, raising an eyebrow, as Cameron smirked a little and let out a soft chuckle, “so i just got some water since i can’t get nothin’ else. why you up?”
“couldn’t sleep — kept tossin’ and turnin’ like a muh’fucka’. then i heard some lil’ noises in here, so i came to be nosy.” Cameron shrugged as you chuckled softly and moved away from the fridge to the counter, leaning up against it while Cameron’s eyes trailed your every move.
“your bestie must be sleep if you up in here with me.” you chuckled, unscrewing the lid of your water bottle, as you took a sip of your water and a mischievous look crossed Cameron’s face, a small smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth while he leaned up from the door frame.
“what, you don’t want me in here with you?” Cameron teased, his tone shifting to something enticing, as he raised his eyebrows and you nearly choked on your water, pulling away from the bottle and swallowing the liquid before clearing your throat, “you scared of being alone with me or somethin’?”
“…i never said that.” you defended, your voice suddenly softer than before upon realizing that he had clearly read your body language, as Cameron smirked a little and slowly walked over to the counter, his steps calculated and deliberate while you stood up straight from your previously leaned position.
you found it amusing how well he could read people, but you hated when it was you he was reading — and he read you quite often than you realized.
“you ain’t have to say it,” Cameron chuckled as he cockily grinned at you and rounded the corner of the counter, moving closer to where you stood, “i can see it all over your face. i could see it in the way you looked at me when you realized it was me that walked in here.”
“Cameron,” you warned, keeping your eyes on him, as you twisted the top onto your water bottle and sat it beside you, “don’t—”
“don’t what?” Cameron interrupted you and moved to stand in front of you as you instinctively pushed yourself back against the counter to create some distance between the two of you, the cold marble pressing into the small of your back while you looked up at the 6’5” man that was beginning to invade your personal space.
“don’t touch me,” you finished as Cameron opened his mouth to speak but you quickly raised your index finger, completely silencing him, “i see it in your face. i know why you came this close to me.”
“you sayin’ that ‘cause you mean it or because of your brother?” Cameron asked, raising an eyebrow, as he deliberately moved closer to you and your body stiffened, your breath getting caught in your throat, “or… you sayin’ that ‘cause if i touch you, you gon’ fold?”
“you think you know everything—”
“i know you,” Cameron corrected as he rested his hands on both sides of the counter beside your figure, cornering you and keeping you from moving past him, “better than i probably should.”
as soon as he caged you in, your heart started thumping twice as hard, and he somehow managed to notice it because he started smirking, “see what i’m sayin’? i ain’t even did nothin’ yet, but ya heart ‘bout to jump out your chest.”
“you know what you doin’, Cam.” you murmured, crossing your arms, as Cameron’s smirk widened and he tilted his head a little, his eyes drinking in each of your facial features while he licked his lips.
“tell me what i’m doin’, Y/N,” Cameron suggested, his voice lower than before, as he took a step closer to you and you pushed yourself further back against the counter, your eyes flickering between his face and how close his body was to yours, “makin’ you want to face your fears? makin’ you want to give in to the desires you fight every time you see me?”
“Cameron—”
“how long you gon’ fight it, mama?” Cameron interrupted you for a second time and gently grabbed your chin as he tilted your head up to get a good look at your melanated face in the soft lighting, “how much longer is it gon’ take for you to realize that it ain’t no runnin’ from how you truly feel? that it ain’t no runnin’ from me?”
“we can’t— we shouldn’t do this,” you instantly shook your head, but you didn’t know if you were shaking your head because you disagreed or because you were trying to shake out any lingering thoughts that agreed with him, “it’s not right. you know what he said—”
“what he don’t know ain’t gon’ kill him,” Cameron defended lowly as he grabbed your chunky waist with his other hand and pulled you flush against him, eliciting a soft gasp from you while your eyes widened a little, “he’d start trippin’ if he saw me this close to you, though.”
“Cam—”
“look me in my eyes and tell me you don’t want me,” Cameron challenged as he shifted his grip from your chin to your jaw, his fingertips gently resting against your chubby cheek and sending a shiver down your spine, “tell me you don’t feel what i feel and i’ll let you go and walk away.”
that was the moment you should’ve walked away. the moment you should’ve pulled away from him and abided by your brother’s rule. but something in you told you not to move, so you didn’t. you stood there silently staring up into his colored eyes, and the longer you stood there gazing up at him, the harder it was for you to fight the fierce longing building inside of you — and it was building fast.
Cameron noticed your hesitation and smirked a little as he leaned down to you and paused when your faces were inches apart, your breathing audibly hitching from the extremely close proximity while you maintained eye contact with the man who was determined to see you fold.
“say you don’t want me.” Cameron whispered, his voice slightly husky, as he stared down at you challengingly, practically daring you to spew out a false tale.
“C… Cameron,” you whispered, your voice barely audible, as you swallowed hard and hesitantly reached up to him, resting your hands on his chest and not knowing if you wanted to push him away or pull him closer, “you know i want you.”
“i don’t know shit,” Cameron murmured as he tilted his head a little for a second time and his hand moved down from your jaw to your neck, holding it gently, “say that shit with yo’ chest.”
“i want you.” those three magic words flew out your mouth with no hesitation before you could stop them, and your body tensed up as Cameron smirked widely at you and let out a soft knowing chuckle, his thumb rubbing against your pulse point and sending another shiver down your spine.
“say it again,” Cameron mumbled as he pressed his forehead against yours and his other hand moved from your waist to the hem of your shirt, teasingly toying with it while he kept his eyes on you, “tell me again.”
“…i want you, Cam. i’ve always wanted you.” you confessed softly as your guard completely shattered and the weight on your shoulders suddenly lifted, your eyes searching his while you gently grabbed onto his arms and tugged him closer.
that was all he needed to hear.
his mouth was on yours before you could even process it, his lips moving hungrily against yours while his hand slid under your shirt. you wasted no time returning the kiss, your hands cupping his face to keep him from pulling away. the kiss was heated, desperate, and flowed endlessly with suppressed emotions, most of them from you than from him.
at that moment, you didn’t care that your brother didn’t want you and Cameron together, especially since you were the only one who actually cared about what he said. Cameron didn’t give a fuck. he never did. he wanted you and he was going to get you, whether your brother found out about it or not.
Cameron’s hands moved down to the back of your thighs and he swiftly picked you up as he sat you down on the counter and moved to stand between your legs, eliciting a soft gasp of surprise from you at how quickly and smoothly he lifted you. taking advantage of your parted lips, Cameron’s tongue made its way inside your mouth and began wrestling with yours, a soft groan of need falling from his lips while he grabbed your thick hips and pulled you closer.
“want you… right here,” Cameron murmured against your lips before pulling away from the kiss and trailing kisses down your jaw to the crook of your neck, “right here on this counter.”
“C— Cam,” you sharply exhaled at feeling his teeth gently sink into your melanated skin and you mentally prayed he didn’t leave a hickey behind, “we can’t, not right here. what if—”
“you keep sayin’ no and everything on you keep sayin’ yeah, mama.” Cameron chuckled lowly, the sound sending soft vibrations through you, as he raised his head from the crook of your neck and looked down at you, his colored eyes slightly hooded while his thumb rubbed circles against your hips.
“Cameron… if we do this, it can’t be right here,” you repeated as your eyes searched his for anything resembling cautiousness and you found nothing, which slightly frustrated you and turned you on all at once, “i’ma be too loud—”
“baby, you gon’ be loud regardless,” Cameron smirked in amusement and raised his eyebrows as his hands shifted from your hips to your thighs, tugging you closer until your hips were pressed against his, “so, who’s really the one who needs to be careful?”
you paused as the weight of the situation dawned on you — Cameron was going to fuck you on the kitchen counter of your brother’s apartment, and it was up to you to keep the two of you from being caught.
“you get too loud and i’m stoppin’, you hear me?”
you knew damn well you had no business doing what you were doing, but here you were — clinging to Cameron for dear life while he fucked you on the counter in the middle of the night as your brother slept. honestly, you were so deep in your pleasurable haze that you weren’t worried about how wrong the two of you were. all you could think about at that moment was Cameron and the way he was fucking you.
his strokes were steady, his hips moving slowly yet deliberately while he fucked you deeply. one of his hands gripped the back of one of your knees to hold your thick legs further open and the other hand gripped your chunky waist to hold you against him as his chest pressed against yours and his head sat buried in the crook of your neck, his noises coming out muffled against your skin yet hitting your eardrum as clear as day.
one of your hands cradled his head and the other hand gripped one of his biceps, the muscle flexing repeatedly underneath your grip. your head was lolled back and your eyebrows held a slight furrow as your lips sat ajar, quiet whimpers and occasional soft sighs falling from them and making Cameron cling to you tighter.
it was slowly but surely becoming obvious to you that this wasn’t going to be a one time thing. the way he was fucking you and clinging to you told you everything you needed to know — Cameron wanted you to be his, and deep down inside, he was already yours.
“you been hidin’ this good ass pussy from me for too damn long,” Cameron mumbled against your neck before raising his head and looking down at you, prompting you to raise your head and meet his gaze, “you been hidin’ everything from me for too damn long.”
“i was losin’ my damn mind tryin’ not to take you down every time i was alone with you. tryna’ respect your brother’s wishes and shit ‘cause i know he’d beat my ass if he knew how i felt ‘bout you… but, shit…” Cameron trailed off lowly and leaned forward as he rested his forehead against yours and maintained his intense stare, “i don’t give a fuck no more, Y/N.”
Cameron’s grip suddenly tightened on you and his strokes started to speed up, making your jaw drop and your eyes widen a bit while your hand moved from the back of his head to his shoulder. he never looked away from you, his colored eyes staring right into yours while his fingers dug into your waist.
“C-Cam—”
“shhh,” Cameron whispered as he gave you a particularly hard thrust, causing your hips to jerk forward, “don’t say nothin’. just let me make you cum.”
your hands shifted to his back and you held onto him firmly as your head fell back and your eyebrows furrowed, your mouth hanging open while your eyes rolled back. soft skin-slapping started to fill the kitchen, but the faintness of the sound was a complete contradiction to how Cameron was digging in you. you were grateful it wasn’t too loud, but you hated that the sound was still happening — however, your body couldn’t shake the arousal you were getting from the risk of getting caught.
“you been givin’ my pussy to another nigga?” Cameron asked, his eyebrows furrowing a little, as he let go of your waist and grabbed your neck instead, pulling your head back up while he tightened his grip on your leg and pulled it over his shoulder, “huh? you been givin’ my shit up?”
“n-no,” you whimpered quietly, your voice coming out strained due to wanting to keep quiet while you vigorously shook your head, “i-i haven’t, baby, i p-promise…”
“mhm, you keepin’ it tight for me, ain’t you?” Cameron cooed, smirking cockily, as you whimpered desperately and quickly nodded your head, making Cameron squeeze the sides of your neck, “use your words, pretty girl.”
“yes!” you suddenly squealed, your body jerking once you felt his tip slam into your g-spot, as Cameron’s hand swiftly moved from your neck to your mouth, his large palm muffling any other sounds that could jump out of your throat.
“what i say to you before we started? hm?” Cameron warned as he slightly narrowed his eyes at you, “you must want me to stop or somethin’?”
“n-no, no, no, please… please, d-don’t,” you whined pathetically against his palm, your words coming out slightly jumbled and desperate while you clung to him tighter, “i-i’m sorry, Cam, i-i won’t d-do it again..”
Cameron grinned cockily at you and slowly removed his hand from your mouth, placing it back around your neck while he leaned down to you and pressed his forehead against yours again.
“mhm, there you go. such a good girl for me,” Cameron tauntingly cooed as his other hand moved down to your hips and his thumb pressed against your clitoris, rubbing it in circles while his eyes remained on your face, “so pretty bein’ all desperate and obedient for me even when we not supposed to be doin’ this.”
your hips jerked once the pad of his thumb came in contact with your sensitive clit and you inhaled sharply as your eyes rolled back and your eyebrows furrowed, the bridge of your nose slightly scrunching up while your free leg wrapped around his waist. your hands tightened against his back and your nails started to slowly seep into it as you left red markings down his back, eliciting a low guttural moan from him.
“i feel this good pussy tightenin’ around me, mama, you ‘bout to cum? huh? you ‘bout to wet this dick up?” Cameron cooed, smirking at you, as you whimpered brokenly and profusely nodded your head, your breathing starting to pick up while your legs locked against him, “c’mon, then, pretty girl, don’t keep me waitin’. give it to me and drench my shit, don’t hold back.”
his thumb on your clit abruptly sped up and your body roughly jerked as your eyes tightly squeezed shut and you harshly bit down on your bottom lip, keeping your noises tucked away while your orgasm flooded through you. your head leaned back for what felt like the millionth time and your chest heavily heaved up and down as Cameron continued thrusting through your orgasm, his thumb against your neck rubbing your pulse point while he worked you through your aftershocks.
“there you go, baby, uh-huh. keep cummin’ for me, i got you. you makin’ such a good mess for me, pretty girl.”
in which your situationship of nearly a year finally makes his way to your city after months of no contact. (18+)
cw & disclaimers sex obviously, mentions of weed/getting high, spit sharing sowwy, this is a true story lowk except we never met or did the domestic shit booooo! this is a rewritten version of the original by me, i promise i didn’t steal anything! 6.9k wk
The soft melody of Summer Walker’s ‘Body’ sang softly from your TV, bouncing off the walls, nothing more than background noise like the static crackling of whatever candle you had lit earlier, the sweet aroma of vanilla birthday cake passing through the air. The untouched assignment drained your MacBook's battery life, serving as an additional light source alongside the dim periwinkle colored lights strung around the corners of your ceiling. The array of pastel colored notebooks and color coded papers cluttered the rest of your bed while you lay sprawled across your comforter, more relaxed than you should have been, given that you were supposed to be studying. You couldn’t help it. The silk pillows and squishmallows propped onto your mattress were too soft for your hazy mind. You knew no real, productive work was getting done the minute you kicked your Crocs off and stepped onto the delicate carpet flooring in your bedroom.
Frankly, getting work done anywhere had been hard for you. You couldn’t recall the last time you had turned in an assignment without it being exceptionally late or half assed, even in the easy classes you minored in. It was unlike you. Your academic life had been one of a kind previously, your name always being at the top of the dean's list or the first called on during an award ceremony. You were in a slump, and anyone could tell from how you dragged your feet around, your confident walk losing its essence day after day, no longer gleefully swinging your braids around or wearing a big, cheeky grin. You tried to deny the reason you’d been feeling so drained. Though you’d never admit it, everyone close to you knew why their friend had lost her gleam.
Eren Jaeger's name had become nothing short of infamous amongst your friends and everything you associated with him. A group of three to four people despised him. But the craziest thing was that they’d never met him in person.
And neither had you.
You lay still on the bed, nearly dozing off into yet another deep sleep, your lashes resting on your droopy cheeks, so relaxed you hadn’t noticed your bonnet sliding off your head. Sighing, your chest rising and falling, beating with your heart that thumped suddenly in a fast, erratic rhythm with your phone, iPad, and Macbook. Gasping faintly, you jumped, manicured hands scurrying to find one of the three devices, eventually landing on your iPad. You squinted, so groggy you hadn’t noticed the buzzing was from an incoming Facetime call that you assumed would be Mikasa or Sasha calling to get you out of your apartment. The second your vision adjusted to the lighting, a pit of anxiety settled inside of your tummy, drying whatever spit pooled in your mouth.
(916)330-0413… (916)330-0413.
The only sound was your faint, heavy breathing. You watched the number run across the screen, the number you knew by heart, the number that called your phone every night and morning until three months ago. The device buzzed furiously in your clammy palms as if screaming at you to answer–daring you.
You had met him about 10 months ago. Well, met was a generous word–heard from him. It was the night of your 20th birthday, a night you would never forget for many reasons, his acknowledgment of you being one of them, much to your dismay. You had posted at least six pictures of your night out, the ones of you receiving the most love from your following. You looked beyond, darling, in your baby pink mini dress, with your white designer heels adding just three inches to your height, which wasn’t much. A tiara sat atop your rose blond install, your favorite hairstyle that year probably, giving off the impression that you were the princess you dressed like. Pretty wasn’t even the word for it.
You’ll never forget how you had climbed into bed wearing nothing but a towel after your shower, beyond tired and too exhausted to slip into some dainty little pajamas but extremely pleased with how your night went, your hot pink bonnet protecting the hair you were so fond of, ready for bed. It was a habit of yours to check your phone before sleeping, just in case you had missed anything aside from the Instagram notifications admiring you popping up every few minutes. However, one of those notifications stood out. The two of you weren’t mutual, nor did either of you follow each other, which wasn’t unusual. People find your account all the time. His username wasn’t familiar, nor did anyone you knew follow him. Yet, there was something so intriguing about the stranger. He hadn’t said anything even remotely memorable.
e.jaegerr._ liked your story
e.jaegerr._ liked your story
e.jaegerr._ replied to your story with: ‘damn am i too late to say happy birthday mama?'
You thought back to how you grinned, typing back a quick ‘no, a happy birthday is always welcome’ before inspecting the account, not having an image of him in your head just yet, but expectations of some basic guy still lingered in the back of your mind. It took a second for his page to load, janky ass student housing wifi, and when it did, there wasn’t much to see at first. Raising an eyebrow and glancing at the photography posts, you clicked through his highlights, quickly admiring his many documented adventures until you found something you could work with.
To say your mouth turned to dry cotton would be an understatement.
He was not the average, medium ugly guy who stumbled across your page 99% of the time, not the slightest bit. From what you had gathered after seeing his birthday cake in a previous slide, his name was Eren, and Eren was the embodiment of fine.
His hair was long, possibly exceeding shoulder length, a mere estimate you made based on the way it sat in the messy bun in the back of his head, strands of his chocolate locs framing his handsome face, and the nonchalant expression he wore, which it seemed only he could pull off. The lighting in the pictures wasn’t the best, meaning he sucked at personal pictures outside of his photography hobby, but you could make out the color of his emerald orbs as they almost spoke to you through the phone. Not a lot of guys could pull off piercings and tattoos, art in the form of ink covering his right arm, chest, and neck, but the septum ring that hung from his nose looked too good on him, not to mention how sexy the hoop ring on top of his blush pink bottom lip. You could only imagine how the cool metal would feel against your lips.
Without knowing, you bit down on your bottom lip as you stalked, occasionally allowing your tongue to wet your lips as they grew dry from your teeth piercing them. Startled by the buzzing in your hand, you read the response, a lazy grin spreading across your face at his humor.
It wasn’t supposed to be anything serious, given that he was just a random guy from Instagram and that he lived in Sacramento, miles and miles away from you, but damn, did that boy know how to apply pressure. It began with a few texts from your number, as he was so charismatic that he got your number the night he responded to your story. You hadn’t ever talked to a guy like him, a guy with depth, in touch with not only his feelings but the feelings of life all around him. It was hot. Hot as fuck.
Before you knew it, the two of you were calling every day, and if one of you couldn’t sleep on the phone the night before for whatever reason, he was calling the minute you were up. With these calls came intimacy.
Lots of it.
It wasn’t abnormal for you to be complimented and praised after your every move. You were a beautiful, ambitious girl. There was something incredibly addictive about how he spoke to you and admired the little details of your appearance that you shared over the phone. He noticed things, like when you changed the way you styled your edges. All of it went straight to your lower half, something you eventually but shamefully admitted, leading to an entirely different relationship than the one you planned to have with him.
“Your pussy’s so fuckin’ pretty, ma. Spread your legs more, let daddy see how wet that shit is.” he groaned out, his voice so, so raspy and enticing, only adding to the leaking mess your pussy had become from his words alone. You felt your hole clench around your fingers as you opened your legs wider, growing greedier by the minute as you watched him stroke his dick, not paying any mind to how embarrassed you were being this vulnerable for someone. Fuck, it was big. And so pretty. “There you go, baby, good girl.”
You needed him so badly that it had started to hurt. Every movement he made and every word that rolled off of his tongue went straight to your cunt, the aching becoming more and more painful as you pumped two digits in and out of yourself, your slick staining the silk sheets on your bed. The most angelic mewls fell from your mouth, your sounds causing Eren’s dick to twitch in his hand. ‘Daddy, it hurts so bad–f-fuck, I n-need you.” You hiccupped, squeezing your eyes shut.
It was sinful, the way he threw his head back and let out those grunts, cursing under his breath as he increased the speed of his stroking. He swore he’d never been this horny until he met you. “I know baby, daddy knows. ‘m gonna come see you, ma, I promise and I'm gonna fill that pretty pussy up.”
“You got me so, so wet, Eren. Fuckkkk, ‘m close,” you whined as that familiar coil built up in your stomach.
He smiled, taking a mental note of how your body reacted to the experience, every jerk or twitch, or how your eyebrows furrowed when your clit twitched. “Yeah? You close, mama?”
You sloppily pumped your fingers inside of your pussy, your release threatening to gush all down your bed. “So close, ‘ren, please.”
“Cum baby, make a fuckin’ mess for daddy.” He watched as clear liquid sprayed from your pussy, admiring how you knew to keep your fingers inside because he knew that you knew he’d want you to cum for him again. Sweet praises fell off his tongue as you came undone on his phone, not even noticing the white spewing from his angry red tip, staining his boxers.
Things were so domestic with him. His name ran through your head at least a thousand times a day, and it didn’t help that he seemed perfect in your eyes. He liked paying for your hair appointments knowing he’d be the first to see and he loved picking and paying for your nails knowing you’d be spreading your soaked lips open for him later that night. Then there were the random gifts sent, usually something you had mentioned you were saving for. And he cooked! He’d give you cooking lessons in his mom’s kitchen, where he claimed all the good seasonings were while his mom scolded him to not burn anything, always speaking to you sweetly and calling you her daughter. You loved when he’d pull an all nighter while you studied, no matter how busy he was the next day, watching movies high as a kite and eventually distracting you and making you laugh. It was everything to you–he was everything to you. Naturally, you had assumed the two of you were an item, at least boyfriend and girlfriend status because anyone would. Eren was your boyfriend. You were his girlfriend.
Right?
“‘Ren?” you murmured, cozying up in one of your many blankets as you watched him fiddle with his gaming controller, his beautiful eyes immediately leaving the TV screen upon hearing you call his name.
“Yes, baby?” He set the controller down.
You bit down on your bottom lip, the artificial flavoring of your strawberry lip gloss dusting your tongue, exhaling shakily. “What am I to you?”
He grinned, looking down in an attempt to hide how quickly the thought of you made his cheeks warm and pink. “You’re mine, my girl. You know that.” He didn’t give his answer much thought as he didn’t think there was more depth to the question.
“So we’re boyfriend and girlfriend,” you snorted, laughing off how childish the question was even though you were extremely nervous to ask it.
“If we lived closer, of course.”
…Huh?
You sat up, resting your weight on your elbow as you squinted and jerked your neck back. You furrowed your brows, mouth instantly settling into a pout. “What does that mean?” You spat, tone nowhere near as endearing as it was seconds before.
Eren’s brow raised, not liking your tone because it was the tone you spoke in when a nasty attitude was brewing within you. “What do you mean? Baby, we talked about this. Fully committing to something long distance doesn’t work but you know how I feel about you. I didn’t think it was something you still thought about."
Scoffing, you rolled your eyes. “Do you mean when we talked about this shit months ago because in that case, we didn’t talk about a fuck thing? Since when were a couple of miles an issue for you?”
He sat up, eyes piercing into you through the phone because one, the two of you did talk about it, and two, he hated it when you spoke to him like you didn’t have any sense. “Watch your mouth, not about to say it again either. We did talk about it, [♡].” Aggravated wasn’t even the word to describe how you were feeling. Long distance wasn’t an issue when he introduced you to his mom or when he promised to take care of you, so why was the label such a big deal?
“Man, whatever, Eren. You think you’re about to lead me on and have me looking stupid and you’re not.”
“Nobody is leading you on or making you look stupid, what the fuck are you talking about? I’ve meant every word I’ve ever said to you. What about a label changes that?” He groaned, growing a bit irritated himself.
You laughed but you were nowhere near amused. “You know what, I don’t want to talk about this anymore. I’ll talk to you later or somethin’.”
He huffed, reaching for the phone knowing you were about to hang up in his face to piss him off. “Nah, ain’t no later–”
“Goodnight, Eren.”
That was three months ago as of tonight. Eren tried for days to get more than one word responses from you, but everything you said to his paragraphs was nonchalant and cold. No matter how much he called, texted, or emailed you, it didn't make a difference. Nothing seemed to change how you felt about the ordeal. At the time, you didn’t think you were being dramatic. For fucks sake, he had seen your entire body, knew you like the back of his hand, and been the first man you had uttered the words ‘I love you’ to. However, as the messages came, they eventually stopped. He stopped calling, no longer trying all around. As weeks passed, he accepted that things might’ve been over between you guys as much as it hurt him to admit it. You would’ve reached out if he didn’t seem to be doing so fine without you. Just as you had started to get over the issue, he started posting more, traveling to cities with people you had never seen him with, and even getting another tattoo. It was like he didn’t give a fuck, like there wasn’t a girl states away grieving his absence.
Your reminiscing was cut short when the numbers lit up the screen of your iPad once again. It never dawned upon you that you had never officially blocked his number after blocking him everywhere else. You picked up the remote control for your led lights, changing the color from lavender to white. Your fingers shook profusely as you propped your iPad up enough so he’d see nothing past your bonnet. Swiping the phone button to the left, you let out a shaky breath as the connection went through. In seconds, you experienced the same awe as months ago, just as you did when you first saw him.
“Mama,” that familiar yet foreign raspiness making your heart skip a beat. Half of his long hair fell on his broad shoulders that poked through his black t-shirt while the other half was in his usual man bun. He’d never cut it. Those low, piercing eyes focused on whatever he was doing in his lap, his slender fingers likely rolling a blunt. Half his arm sleeve was visible, but it had been touched up. He sat pretty in the driver's seat of his blacked out Jeep, the moonlight bleeding through his cracked windows emphasizing just how stunning he was. “Where you at? I want to see you.”
See you? “Hello to you too, Eren.”
He chuckled, eventually looking up from his la. “Hi, baby. Why can’t I see you? I didn’t call to see your ceiling, lil’ girl.”
You huffed, biting back a smile as you adjusted the angle of your iPad, revealing everything he had missed so dearly. You always looked so pretty, your lips greased up with whatever lip gloss you had in rotation for the month. The wavy curls from your braids that had come out of your bonnet framed your round face, making you look too soft. Your reading glasses were slightly crooked, but it didn’t matter because they still sat adorably on your face like he remembered. He did his best not to look down at your breasts bursting from the little white tank top you wore, but he couldn’t help it.
“Happy now?” You sucked your teeth, avoiding eye contact.
“Very,” He licked his lips. “You didn’t answer my question. Where are you?”
You hadn’t thought about it when you answered, but where Eren lived, the sun didn’t set for another two hours. He looked so good in the moonlight you hadn’t realized that the moonlight was supposed to be a sun setting on his pale skin. “Home… Where are you?”
He laughed softly, grinning. You were a smart girl, he knew you’d figure it out. “You know where I am, mama. I still remember your address.”
“Eren, I know you’re not in my fuckin’ city right now…”
“You know I am. I’m about to be on my way to you. What floor are you on again? That apartment complex is big as hell.” He talked so cooly about coming to see you as if it was something he’d done before as if he didn’t live in California. You knew Eren well, and from what you learned about him, he wasn’t bullshitting, and frankly, that’s what scared you the most about this whole thing. He was serious, maybe more serious than he had ever been.
“Why?” You spoke out, attempting to conceal how nervous he was making you.
“Ain’t no why. You’re lucky I didn’t pull up and knock on every door in that building. You know exactly why, I’m coming to see you. Like I asked you before, what floor do you live on?” You watched as Eren started his car, muscles flexing so deliciously as he moved. Focus. You knew there was no talking him out of his plan, he was stubborn like that and truthfully, you did know why he was asking. You wanted to talk to him, you had for a while now.
Taking one last look around the room and back at Eren, whose wheels were already rolling, you sighed. “The sixth floor.”
The pit in your stomach was something similar to the Mariana trench. It had been around ten minutes since Eren hung up, and it only took fifteen to get to your apartment from where he currently resided in the city. In that ten minutes, you had done a lot. Eren started sharing his location with you again, so you didn’t have any additional time to sit on the bed in disbelief because you knew he was coming, so you did your best to prepare on such short notice.
You lathered your body in an additional layer of cocoa oil and vanilla-scented lotion, reviving that fresh aroma from your shower two hours ago. The bonnet was staying on, but you did your edges to add extra flare and applied a layer of the lipgloss you wore.
Now, you told yourself he wasn’t coming into your room. Whatever talking the two of you would be doing could be done in the living room, on the couch, at a friendly distance. At least, that’s what you repeated to yourself as you straightened up your room, storing away your school supplies and picking up laundry. You didn’t care to change either, not wearing more than some little pink shorts and a white tank top with care bears printed on the fabric. No bra, no panties. Revealing, but Eren could look, not touch.
While making sure your living room was presentable. Three loud knocks echoed through the space, each adding to how intensely your heart thumped against your chest. Your jaw fell slack, hands anxiously gripping the fur on your couch pillows. Another knock. Eren wasn’t supposed to arrive for another five minutes, not to mention the elevator ride and the walk to your unit. The walk towards the door gave you a sense of impending doom if that phrase had a positive connotation. Each step on the cold wood floors sent chills up your spine, and you thought you would fart by the time you got to the front door. With a trembling handle, you flipped the locks, taking a deep breath as you twisted the knob.
You smelled him before you saw him, the scent of his cologne, likely the one you bought him, mixed with a faint trace of weed, overwhelming your sense of smell. He was tall, you knew that, all of him and his lean yet muscular structure standing at an accurate 6'2, but it was different in person. You felt those eyes, his green eyes lined with rings of silver and pools of curiosity and a hint of nervousness. His chest was moving up and down, poking through his shirt, seemingly matching with the black sweatpants that loosely hung on his hips. He was even more attractive in person, all of his features unique.
You stood frozen in the doorway, just like he was. Though he seemed better at concealing his nerves with his body language, he felt just as anxious as you did. He had imagined what it would be like to see you in person a million times, but nothing could compare to how gorgeous you truly were, no matter the circumstances.
“You look pretty, baby.” Eren slurred, shamelessly eyeing you as a predator did its prey, like he wanted to devour you right there. It made you feel small under him. You swallowed the thick pool of spit in your mouth, biting back yet another smile as you shifted your feet.
“Thank you.”
“Can I come in?” You nodded, stepping aside for him, your legs feeling weak as you inhaled his scent. His head hung low as he walked over to your couch and took a seat. He lowered his gaze, eyes sinfully inviting as he watched your figure as you walked towards him. Eren almost chuckled, remembering that he knew what you looked like underneath those little ass clothes. If the mood were better, he would’ve been six out of eight inches deep into you right now, as he promised.
You sat on the couch, closer than you planned, somewhat avoiding his eyes, folding a leg under your bottom as you stroked the fur on your couch pillows. You were so cute.
“Damn, mama. I know we haven’t talked, but I thought you’d have more to say. What’s wrong, hm?” He teased, twirling a strand of his hair.
You scoffed, jerking your head back. “You’re the one in my city claiming I know why you’re here, so you should be talking. Talk, Eren. Why are you here?” He sucked his teeth, reminding himself to address your little attitude later as if he even played with you like that. Eren sat up, his attention entirely on you. Deep down, he hoped his appearance would settle this little feud once and for all.
“In all honesty,” he started. “I’m here because I took a job at an art gallery in the city. If we’re being real, I only took the job to run into you because I didn’t need it. I knew you wouldn’t have wanted to see me before but I couldn’t take this anymore. I missed you so bad, [♡]. I felt like a piece of my soul was missing without you, I can’t imagine being one of the losers who lost you physically. I understand why you reacted the way you did but I can’t go another fuckin’ day without having you in my life.” Tears welled in your eyes as you listened to him speak, all of your old feelings resurfacing. He scooted closer, taking you by surprise.
“Eren–”
“No, listen. Distance was never in the way of my feelings for you. I just didn’t want to hurt you by not being here with you physically all of the time because I know how you are. You know that was my reason for not making things official, as stupid as it sounds.” You did know that. He had told you that a few times. You felt a little embarrassed listening to him explain things to you because honestly, you hadn't thought of a few points he was making, and you couldn’t help but think that if you did, the entire separation could’ve been avoided. Eren would’ve been yours physically in no time.
During the lengthy conversation, he was so careful with his words, never once invalidating how you felt while ensuring you understood things from his point of view. Whatever question you had, he had an answer for. It was captivating to watch his facial expressions as he spoke, something you had always wanted to experience in person. You noticed how he focused his gaze on you, how he blinked when he was confused, and how quickly his cheeks flushed when he felt strongly about something. “I’m sorry, [♡]. For everything.” His head hung low, the deep brown strands of his hair working as curtains to hide the emotions on his face. Pretty boy, you thought.
“Eren.” You whispered. His head shot up, eyes full of nothing but guilt he didn’t even need to feel. Your heart felt tight in your chest seeing him like that. “I forgive you. I’m sorry too. It wasn’t right for me to not hear you out.”
“C’mere, mama.” Eren huffed, spreading his legs and opening his arms for you. You didn’t hesitate, moving closer to and straddling him. You smiled and wrapped your arms around the nape of his neck, the same aching between your legs from months ago reappearing as he placed his hands on your lower back, rubbing at the fat right above your ass. He smelled so damn good. His presence alone turned you on. “Let me look at you.”
He grinned as he let his hands roam your waist, not quite touching your ass yet. “I can’t believe I finally got my hands on your pretty ass after all this time. Fuck, you’re so pretty, even when you’re mad at me.” He leaned in, pressing his lips against your own, stealing whatever gloss remained on your lips. You cupped his jaw in your hands, deepening the kiss. It was innocent at first, his lips embracing you and your presence. Stroking your thumbs against his soft cheeks, you hungrily chased his lips, wincing as he bit down on your bottom one. You felt his lips turn up against yours.
At first, you hadn’t realized you were rolling your hips against his, too enticed by the feeling of his lips against yours for the first time. It was when your fingers started to toy with the hairs on the nape of his neck and when his hands had started pawing at the fat of your ass that you knew where things were going. And what did you look like stopping?
“Fuck,” Eren hissed, the movement of your hips applying pressure to his already growing hard-on. “What are you doing, mama?”
You licked your lips, placing a kiss behind his ear. “I need you, ‘ren. Now.”
He pulled back and scanned your features, looking for any signs of doubt on your face before he gave in. “Yeah? Want me to show you how sorry I am, pretty girl?” The smirk that spread on his lips was telling. You shyly nodded, gripping at his shirt. He placed pecks on your jawline, moving down to your neck, every kiss growing sloppier until the angelic moans he missed so much slipped from your lips. Eren’s hands were rough, rocking your hips against his and slapping at your ass every time you moaned in his ear. You knew he had a big dick, but feeling it harden against your cunt, the wet spot in your shorts growing by the second.
His hands slid up the back of your tank top, prompting you to remove it altogether before he did. You sat on his lap, tits in his face, nipples hard from the friction and cold atmosphere in the living room. Eren murmured curses under his breath as he rubbed his thumb across your nipples, sloppily placing his mouth on the left one, and he continued toying with the other. “So fuckin’ beautiful, baby, fuck.” You whimpered, throwing your head back, the pleasure only adding to the pool of arousal you were sure he could feel by now.
“Feels so good, ‘ren, shit.” He sucked at your nipples like he was starving. He needed to taste them.
“Let me take you to your room,” He breathed out, voice an octave deeper. “Please.”
Giggling, you stood up, holding your hand out. “Come on.”
“E–eren wait a second–fuck,” you wailed, fingers desperately clutching handfuls of the hair between your legs as you threw your head back. He hummed, attentively observing your face change expressions as he greedily sucked your clit. It had been like this for around thirty minutes now, him sucking your juices out of you until you were pleading for your release. The moment the two of you stepped into your bedroom, he nearly consumed you as you were, his soft pink lips leaving marks from your neck to your thighs as he thrusted three digits into your soaking cunt until you were clenching around his fingers. You barely had time to recover from the intense pleasure, quickly ending up where you were now, about to cum for the second time if he wanted you to. “Too m-much, baby.”
His eyes darkened as he pushed your legs further back, slurping and licking every little bit of slick that dripped out of you as he inserted two of his fingers again. “You taste so fuckin’ sweet, mama. Wait just a little longer for daddy,” he mumbled. Your eyes rolled to the back of your skull as he curled his fingers upwards, hitting every nerve in your walls, making you clench around his fingers so, so tight.
The sounds he made against your pussy were downright filthy as he buried his face in your heat, fingers now coated in a layer of cream. You were so wet for him, at least three times wetter than you were on the phone, and it drove him crazy to see your pussy so nasty for him. Soft whimpers fell from your mouth as you felt your release coming, the feeling seemingly more intense than it was before due to his edging. “Daddy, I can’t hold it, please, I need to c-cum.” With every plea, his tongue swirled so intensely around your clit. He made it so hard to hold it.
“You’ ready to cum for me, pretty girl? Tell me how bad you need to cum, and I’ll let you.” Eren whispered, leaving faint kisses against your throbbing clit as he pumped more of your wetness out of you.
“I need it so bad. Let me be good and cum for you, please, ‘ren.” You wept, legs trembling like leaves in the wind.
He grinned, emerald eyes locking with yours as he nodded. “Atta girl, go ahead, mama.” The nastiest moans came out of you as you finally let go, vision going blurry as your head fell back into the sheets. You ground your cunt against his face, unknowingly adding to the aching in his boxers as you cried out his name. He whispered praises between your legs, biting down on his lip as he watched your body react to the pleasure, taking in every little twitch or jerk your body made.
“You look even sexier doing that shit in person. Come here, [♡],” He sat up, pulling you closer to him by your ankles. You were so fucked out already you hadn’t even realized he hadn’t been inside of you yet. He laughed as he took in your expression, in awe at how beautiful you looked. “I’m not done with you yet.”
Eren pulled his shirt over his head, exposing the tattoos you had longed to see on his toned stomach. His body was so sexy, muscles flexing while doing such a simple task. Spit pooled into the cavern of your mouth as you watched him pull down his sweats and boxers, nearly moaning at the mere sight of his dick springing out. His tip was pretty and an angry shade of red as it slapped against his stomach, making a ‘thud’ sound. He was so big, all eight inches of him falling against his thigh. “Shit,” you whispered. Eren only chuckled as he pulled the rest of his clothes off his ankles. “Eren…”
He rested his big hands on the back of your thighs, thumbs slowly stroking the skin. “You’ gonna be good and take this dick for me like you promised?”
The way he talked alone made your stomach churn. You nodded, tucking your bottom lip under your teeth as you eyed his length. Fuck, that was a lot to take in person. “Yes, ‘ren.”
He leaned in, sucking at the marks he previously left against the canvas of your neck as he positioned himself at your entrance. He was so rough as he licked and tongued the bruises he had left, hoping to distract you from how big the stretch was. With a wet squelch, you felt the thick head of his dick enter you, instantly clenching around what little you were given as you gasped. He groaned against your neck, murmuring curses at the feeling. “Oh my god.”
“Shit, you feel good.” He wasn’t all the way in, maybe four or so inches deep, but the feeling of him sliding into you was already too much. Your arms wrapped around the nape of his neck, pulling him closer as your eyes nearly bursted from the sockets. He moved steadily, as he pushed the rest of what could fit into you, the pulsating of your gummy walls driving him mad. God, you felt as good as you looked, all wet and warm like a hug. You cried out his name in response, clit throbbing as you looked down and watched him enter you. It felt incredible, but it was a scene so dirty. You were almost gushing against the veins that decorated his dick, your pussy gripping around the shaft each time he pulled out. “This pussy feels too good, mama, damn.”
He increased the speed of his thrusting, each movement prying those beautiful noises from you as he hit the spots none of your toys had located. You were embarrassingly wet for him, the sounds of your moans clashing with the sound of your cunt greedily sucking him in. He groaned at the feeling and gripped your thighs tighter, watching a white ring form around the base of his dick. “There you go, cream on that shit, good girl.”
“You’re makin’ my pussy feel good, daddy,” you cried as your nails clawed against his back. His balls harshly slapped against your ass, adding to how loud the two of you were. Between his breathy moans and your long, drawn out whimpers, you were sure you’d be getting a noise complaint sooner or later.
“Fuck,” He could feel you getting ready to cum as he pushed in and out of you, pussy making the sweetest mess against him. The feeling of you gripping him like you needed him inside of you was nothing he had ever felt before, causing his hips to stutter. You looked gorgeous as you made those pretty faces, calling out for him as his tip kissed your sweet spot. “You look so pretty right now, mama. Takin’ this shit like a good girl, ‘m so proud of you. I'm so, so sorry for leaving you, ma.”
That familiar feeling consumed your lower half for the third time in almost an hour. The assault on Eren’s back only worsened as he fed you those long, deep strokes, your pussy leaking onto the sheets at this point. “D-daddy.”
Eren looked down at your wet eyes, unable to resist the smile on his lips. He could feel you getting close, and he loved it. He loved feeling you so much that it was about to make him cum too. “I feel you, baby. Fuck, this pussy taking me so good, daddy bout’ to cum too.”
You closed your eyes, gripping the hairs on the back of his neck as you came again. “Oh my g-god, Eren.” You cried as your toes curled in the air. His movements grew sloppy as you gush around his dick, making him whine.
“Come here, ma.” Unexpectedly, he pulls out, a loud ‘pop’ bouncing off the walls as he pats your quivering thigh. He groaned, slowly stroking himself with one hand. His eyes were dark, his hunger for you growing as the two of you locked eyes. You shivered as you sat up into a kneeling position, legs almost giving out on you in the process. He smirked as he removed his hand from his dick, wrapping it around your neck and giving it a good squeeze. “Let me fuck your pretty ass face til’ I cum?”
You nodded eagerly and opened your mouth, letting his sticky shaft fill up your mouth as he kept his grasp on your throat, wasting no time as he bobbed your mouth up and down his wet shaft. The view from above was amazing. You looked divine looking up at him with those big doe eyes as he fucked your throat. A mixture of your cum and spit ran from the sides of your mouth as you hollowed your cheeks and down his balls. Eren moaned loudly as your throat tightened around his tip as it hit the back of your throat. “F-fuck, look at you eating that dick up like a fuckin’ good girl. I love that shit.”
He pulled you off his length, hand still firmly around your neck as he looked down at you. You swallowed, breaths heavy. He tapped your cheek, muttering an ‘open’. His dick visibly twitched when you followed his order and stuck your tongue out. Curling his tongue, he leaned down, a thick glob of his spit sliding off the wet muscle and into your mouth.
“Swallow that shit.” You swallowed, the action adding to the mess between your legs. He smiled and pushed his dick back into your mouth, now thrusting harder than before making thick spit bubbles form around the base. You brought up a shaky hand and stroked whatever didn’t fit in your mouth, not once letting your gag reflex stop you. His chest rapidly moved up and down as he got louder and breathier. Your mouth felt so good around him. “Shit–’m cumming, mama.”
You hummed, closing your eyes as he shot warm, white ropes down your throat, a thousand curses falling from his lips as his hips jerked. The two of you were making a mess as his hips slowed down. Streams of white dripped down your chin as he pulled out of your mouth.
Giggling, you held onto his thigh. “You taste good.”
His breaths were heavy as he chuckled, leaning down and wrapping his lips around yours, spit and cum making the kiss sloppy. “You did so well for me, you know that?”
“Mhm, ‘m your good girl, daddy.”
“If you keep talking like that, I’ll have you up all night, keep playin’.” You smiled as he cupped your cheeks, peppering kisses across your face. “I’m gonna clean you up and get you some water, okay?”
“Okay, ‘ren.”
“And, [♡]?”
“Hmm?”
“I love you.” He said with his chest, attention locked on you as a blush crept onto his cheeks.
You pressed an innocent kiss onto his lips, swirling his neck hairs around your fingers as he gripped the fat of your love handles, deepening the kiss. You sucked on his bottom lip, biting down gently and smiling into the kiss before you pulled away. Your eyes lit up beautifully as you took a long look into his, all of his love behind those green eyes you loved so much. “I love you, too, Eren.”
Thank you so much for being here, asking me this, and being so kind.🥹 I'm so apologetic about the fact that I've just been neglecting this page and the people who have read my work. Honestly, I'm truly humbled by the number of people who gathered here just to read something that I never thought people would give the time of day to. 🙏🏾 This series is very close to my heart because in case any one doesn't really know Milana is quite literally written to be mirrored after me. It’s been very therapeutic to be able to have an outlet to work out some things and figure myself out a bit through writing, and it's weird because I sort of grew up vicariously through the character. Now, I have my own poetry scholarship paying for college and off all my built up tuition debt, and I’m in a relationship with my dream man!! 💕💕💕 It’s been such a blessing these past few months getting into this relationship and finding art and my passion again after going so long without writing. In all reality, the reason I’ve been gone is because I've been battling serious health concerns. I have a chronic illness and sometimes it puts me in a really bad mental health space because my mother passed when I was very young from the same disease as it is genetic. It's a very hurtful and painful subject because it really twists at my heart, and as we approach 2026 we're still facing so many issues with Black women getting less and less access to health care. I hope through coming back and showcasing some of this in my writing that I'll be able to find peace and release some of my pain around it since I’m back to good health and spirits. It’s also why I want to find a way to come back to this series! To be completely honest, I'd like to start fresh since I'm in a completely different headspace (and low-key I have a fresh revival in the works, as well as some other things…✍🏾✨) So, why not, let’s get back to work!
Masterlist will be posted soon!! I just need permissions from the rest of the writers I’ve asked. I’m still finding more ppl to ask. There are so many talented writers so there might be multiple parts to the masterlist!! Please be patient with me.🫶🏼🫶🏼
most of the week you spent at onika’s house, the same way y’all always had, stretched across her bed with snacks everywhere and the tv running in the background. only this time, she had an agenda.
it started when she leaned over, chewing her hot fries slow and said, “you still think my brother fine, huh?”
you almost dropped your sprite. “what? no.”
“don’t lie. you been starin at him since middle school. i remember you sittin’ all stiff on the couch whenever he came in, actin like you forgot how to breathe.”
your face burned and you buried it in your sleeve but she pulled your arm down. “girl, just admit it.”
your voice came out quiet. “he is cute…”
she squealed into her pillow like she’d been waiting years for you to say it. “thank you! now we can get started. ‘cause you grown now and i swear if you let this chance pass, imma be mad for real. give me a week and you gon be ready.”
you tried to laugh it off but she was already dragging clothes out her closet the next day, piling them on the bed and pushing crop tops into your hands. you tugged at the hem when you stepped out of the bathroom, shifting uncomfortably but she snapped her fingers. “stop pulling at it. look.” she spun you toward the mirror. “that’s a body right there. imagine ony seeing you like this.”
your stomach twisted at the thought but before you could say anything, the door creaked open and onyankopon leaned in. his eyes moved over the scene quick, you standing there in clothes that definitely weren’t yours, onika grinning like a mastermind.
“what y’all doin’?” he asked, voice casual.
“none of your business,” onika shot back, throwing a shirt at him. “close my door.”
he chuckled, eyes flicking to you once more before he left. the door clicked shut and you dropped back on the bed, covering your face.
“see?” she said, her grin wide. “he already lookin’.”
after that, it was makeup. she sat you at her vanity with tubes of gloss and brushes lined up like a lesson plan. “all you need is simple,” she explained, slicking gloss over your lips and brushing the fresh lash extensions she did for you. when she turned you toward the mirror, you had to admit you didn’t look like the shy version of yourself you were used to. she smiled at your expression. “yeah. you gon break necks with this.”
she didn’t stop there. she made you practice little things—smiling without hiding it, holding eye contact, saying a line without your voice shaking. every time you tried and failed, she laughed and clapped her hands but never let you quit. “nah, do it again. you the prize here. stop actin’ like you not.”
time slipped by like that. one day she dragged you out to the smoothie shop and dared you to order without mumbling. another, she had you walking in front of her mirror just so you could see how much you’d started carrying yourself different. it didn’t feel like lessons after a while, more like her reminding you over and over that there wasn’t anything to be scared of.
by sunday, you almost didn’t want to go through with it but she wouldn’t let you back out. you sat at the kitchen counter, lip gloss catching the light, jeans fitting just right, pretending to scroll on your phone while your heart raced.
ony walked in, opening the fridge like he always did but this time when you looked up, you didn’t immediately fold. “hi,” you said, steady enough to surprise yourself.
he glanced at you, nodded back, and his eyes lingered just a second too long before he grabbed the orange juice.
“want some?” he asked, pouring himself a glass.
you nodded quick, voice soft. “yeah, thanks.”
he poured another and slid it across to you, then leaned against the counter sipping his own. you tried not to think about how close he was standing.
onika sat at the couch, sipping from her water bottle like she hadn’t orchestrated the whole thing. she met your eyes over the rim, smirking, and you knew she thought her plan was already working.
onika had decided that practicing at the house wasn’t enough. “you need field work,” she announced, twirling her gloss between her fingers. “if you only ever look cute in my room, then what happens when you see him in public? you gon freeze up.”
you groaned, flopping across her bed. “field work? girl, this is not a mission.”
“yes it is. your mission is to bag my brother. and lucky for you, i’m a good wingman.”
her version of wingman turned out to mean dragging you along every time onyankopon left the house. grocery runs? suddenly you were in the back seat. gas station stops? you were sent in with him to “grab a snack.” at first it was obvious—ony would arch a brow, glancing at his sister like he knew she was plotting—but he never complained.
he was subtle though. little things. holding the door open, even if you were lagging behind. offering you the aux when onika was on the phone. sliding you a drink from the fridge before you even asked. nothing big enough to make your heart race out loud but enough that you went home every night replaying it in your head.
the real test came when onika decided y’all were going to “hang out with the boys.”
you froze. “what boys?”
“his friends. connie, eren, jean—you know them.”
you did know them. mostly from seeing them around school years ago, when they were already driving and too cool to look your way. they were ony’s homeboys—loud, tall, and the kind of funny that made you feel like you’d get roasted just for existing.
“absolutely not,” you said.
“absolutely yes,” onika shot back. “stop bein’ scary. you not gon learn confidence sittin’ in my room.”
so that’s how you ended up squeezed next to her on the curb outside the corner store, sipping slushies while the boys leaned against ony’s car, talking trash and laughing at things you didn’t totally catch.
they didn’t pay you much mind at first, which honestly was a relief. onika did enough talking for both of you, jumping in their conversations and tossing her braids like she’d been one of them forever. you just sat, sipping slow, watching how relaxed ony looked in his element—arms crossed, head tilted back as he laughed at something jean said.
you tried not to stare but it was hard not to.
eventually, connie noticed. “why she so quiet?” he asked, squinting at you.
you choked on your straw, and onika swooped in before you could answer. “she shy, that’s all.”
“shy?” eren grinned, leaning forward. “ain’t nothing wrong with that. we don’t bite.”
jean smirked. “speak for yourself.”
the group erupted in laughter and your face burned. ony didn’t join in—he just looked over at you for a second, eyes softer than his friends like he could tell you were embarrassed.
“leave her alone,” he said finally, shaking his head. “y’all gon scare her off.”
your chest tightened a little at that—him noticing, him saying something. it was nothing big, just a line thrown out in the middle of all their noise but it felt like everything to you.
onika bumped your shoulder with hers, whispering so only you could hear. “girl, he’s already protecting you. relax.”
you rolled your eyes, sipping your slushy to hide the smile tugging at your lips.
when it was time for you to go back home after spending the week with your best friend, the house was quiet in a way that made your skin prickle. no onika blasting music, none of ony’s friends stomping around, not even the hum of the tv in the background. it was just you, your reflection, and the shopping bags piled on your bed.
you sat there for a while, staring at them like they were heavier than just fabric. onika had made you buy half the mall—crop tops, skirts, dresses that clung in places you weren’t used to showing off. and you wanted to wear them, you really did. you just weren’t sure if you knew how.
finally, you pulled out the first dress. it was simple, a soft brown mini that hugged your waist, and slipping it over your head felt like stepping into someone else’s life. you studied yourself in the mirror, smoothing the fabric down, turning side to side. it was different. you looked… grown.
you laughed nervously to yourself, mumbling, “girl, what you doin?” but you kept going.
soon your floor was littered with tags and hangers, and you were cycling through outfits like a runway show. a denim skirt with a cropped tee, a pair of low rise jeans that showed just a sliver of stomach, even the strappy little tank that onika swore was “the one.”
each outfit made you stand taller. you found yourself tilting your chin, shifting your hip, practicing smiles and poses like you were testing out personalities.
when you pulled out the small makeup bag, you hesitated. you weren’t much of a makeup girl—mascara on a good day, maybe gloss if you remembered—but tonight you tried. soft concealer under your eyes, a little blush brushed across your cheeks, lip liner smudged carefully before gloss. it wasn’t perfect but staring into the mirror you almost didn’t recognize yourself.
you sat back on the bed, legs folding under you, and that’s when he slipped into your mind. onyankopon, with that calm smile he didn’t give to everybody. the way his voice had dropped soft when he told his boys to chill, protecting you without making it a big deal.
you let the memory play again, slower. his height towering over you, the stretch of his shirt across his shoulders. the faint cologne he wore, warm and sharp. the way his eyes had held yours for just a second too long.
heat curled low in your belly. you shifted, thighs rubbing together and a little sigh escaped before you could catch it.
your hand slid down, tugging your dress up until it bunched at your hips. your fingers grazed the soft fabric of your panties and you shivered at the light touch.
you leaned back on one elbow, the other hand drifting lower, pressing gently at first. the thin cotton grew damp quick, your hips rolling up into your palm like they couldn’t help it.
you let out a breathy laugh, whispering to yourself, “oh my god,” before biting down on your lip.
you pushed your panties aside, fingertips finding the slick heat waiting for them. the first stroke had you gasping, the sound filling the quiet room. your back arched off the sheets, your toes curling against the edge of the comforter.
you circled slow at first, teasing yourself, imagining it was ony’s hand instead of yours. bigger and rougher. you pictured him standing behind you in the mirror, watching you melt.
your breaths came quicker, lips parting as you tried to stay quiet. but little whimpers slipped out anyway, muffled when you pressed your face into your pillow.
your fingers slid lower, dipping inside. the stretch made you moan, soft and broken, your hips rocking down to meet the rhythm you gave yourself. the slick sounds filled the room, sticky and wet every time you pulled your fingers back.
you whispered his name into the pillow, the sound trembling, almost desperate. the thought of him hearing it, the thought of him saying yours in that deep voice—god, it made your walls clench tight around your fingers.
your free hand gripped the sheets, pulling hard as your thighs shook. the pressure built fast, a knot curling tight in your stomach. you sped up, chasing it, your body moving with frantic need.
your breath stuttered, voice breaking into soft, wet gasps as the wave hit. your hips jerked, grinding down against your hand as pleasure crashed over you, hot and blinding.
you came undone on your own bed, legs trembling, slick dripping down your thighs, your lips wet with gloss and your own spit from biting down so hard.
the room was still again after, except for the sound of your shaky breathing. you pulled your hand back slowly, staring at the glistening mess on your fingers.
a laugh bubbled up, weak and breathless. “girl, you really lost it,” you whispered to yourself, face burning even though nobody was there to hear.
you collapsed back against the pillows, dress still bunched at your waist, stray hairs sticking to your damp forehead. and even as you tried to steady your breathing, his name lingered on your lips.
you showed up at onika’s door that saturday like you always did but today felt different. the mini skirt hugged your hips in a way that made you stand taller, the cropped tee riding just high enough to show a sliver of skin when you moved. your braids framed your face perfectly, lashes brushing your cheeks every time you blinked, lips glossy with that faint shimmer onika had insisted you buy.
when she opened the door, her eyes lit up. “okay, miss thing,” she grinned, pulling you inside. “look at you. you ate that.”
you laughed, tugging at the hem of your skirt like you weren’t about to melt. “girl, stop.”
but she didn’t stop. she circled you once like a stylist inspecting her work, then gave an approving nod. “this the one. trust me.”
the sound of a door clicking down the hall made your stomach flip. before you could brace yourself, ony appeared, heading toward the kitchen in sweatpants and a plain white tee. casual. effortless. the kind of look that made your throat dry up.
he slowed when he saw you.
his eyes dragged once, not in a way that felt disrespectful but in a way that made it clear he noticed. the hem of your skirt, the way your braids brushed against your shoulders, the gloss catching the light. for a split second, his brows lifted like he almost didn’t recognize you.
“oh,” he said, voice low, casual. “what’s up.”
your “hey” came out softer than you meant but you didn’t back down. not this time. instead, you stepped further into the kitchen, purposefully brushing past him on your way to grab a bottle of water like you belonged there.
he didn’t move out of your space, either. the counter was wide but he leaned against it, close enough that your shoulder nearly grazed his arm when you reached.
the silence stretched. your pulse hammered but you kept your chin up, twisting the cap off your water like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“you… look different,” ony said finally, eyes dipping once more before meeting yours again.
you bit back the urge to hide behind your hair. instead, you tilted your head just slightly, lips glossed and curved in a small smile. “in a good way?”
his mouth twitched like he was fighting a smirk. “yeah,” he said simply. “in a good way.”
behind you, onika cleared her throat loud enough to snap you out of the moment. “alright, y’all,” she said, grinning like she hadn’t just been eavesdropping from the doorway. “can we get back to our plans or what?”
“plans?” ony asked, glancing at her.
“girl’s day,” onika answered quickly, shooting you a look only you could read. her silent little you’re welcome.
you rolled your eyes at her but couldn’t hide the quiet spark of excitement thrumming in your chest. you’d done it. maybe just a small step, maybe just a tiny ripple, but you’d pushed into his space and he hadn’t pulled away.
if anything, he’d leaned closer.
the afternoon drifted by slow, the kind of lazy saturday where nobody was in a rush to do anything. you and onika had half a movie playing in her room, but when she suggested moving to the living room, you didn’t question it—you knew what she was doing.
ony was already out there, posted on the couch with his phone in hand, one arm stretched across the backrest like it was his spot and always had been. he barely looked up when y’all walked in but you caught the way his eyes flicked quick over your outfit again before dropping back to the screen.
onika dropped onto the other end of the couch and with the kind of grin that gave her away, patted the cushion right beside him. “sit here,” she told you. “better view of the tv.”
your heart lurched but you didn’t argue. you slid into the spot next to him, careful at first, the faintest brush of your thigh against his sweatpants.
the movie started again but you couldn’t focus. you were too aware of his warmth beside you, the quiet weight of his arm stretched behind your shoulders. not touching, not yet, but close enough that if you leaned back just a little, it’d be there.
you laughed louder than usual at a dumb joke on screen, part nerves, part performance. ony glanced over at you, one corner of his mouth quirking like he found you funnier than the movie.
you pretended not to notice, reaching for the bowl of chips on the coffee table at the same time he did. your fingers brushed his. quick and soft enough to make your breath hitch.
“my bad,” you said, pulling back.
he shook his head. “you good.”
his voice was calm and it sank straight through you.
onika didn’t say anything but you could feel her eyes on you from across the couch. she was pretending to be wrapped up in the movie but the little smirk tugging at her lips gave her away.
after a while, ony shifted, leaning back deeper into the couch. when his arm adjusted on the backrest, it brushed your braids, fingertips grazing strands like it wasn’t even intentional. you froze for a second, then let yourself relax, leaning back just enough to let the distance between you shrink.
your heart was pounding but you stayed there. close enough that the scent of his cologne—warm, a little woodsy—wrapped around you.
you didn’t say much, didn’t have to. your presence in his space was the loudest thing about you and judging by the quiet glances he kept sneaking your way, he noticed.
eventually, onika stretched like she was bored, grabbing her phone. “i’m bout to call my man real quick,” she announced, standing up. “don’t pause it, i’ve seen this before.”
and just like that, she left you alone with him.
the silence pressed in, thicker now that it was just the two of you. you fiddled with the hem of your skirt, trying not to squirm under the weight of his attention when he finally set his phone down.
“you been around here more lately,” he said casually, like he wasn’t calling you out.
you bit your lip, meeting his eyes for half a second before looking back at the tv. “yeah… guess so.”
his chuckle was low, soft. “guess so.”
and though the room was quiet, your pulse was anything but.
the movie played on but you couldn’t keep track of the plot anymore. all you could feel was the heat radiating off ony, the subtle weight of his arm stretched just behind you and the quiet space between your thighs and his.
when you shifted to adjust your skirt, his eyes flicked down then back up. the look was so quick you might’ve missed it but your heart caught it and wouldn’t let go.
he leaned a little closer, not enough to make it obvious but enough that his voice felt like it was just for you when he spoke.
“you don’t really care about this movie, do you?”
you blinked, caught off guard. “huh? yeah, i mean… it’s fine.”
his lips curved in a half smile. “nah. you been watching everything but the screen.”
your stomach flipped. you opened your mouth to deny it but the words got tangled in your throat. instead, you laughed soft, shaking your head. “you observant, huh?”
“gotta be,” he said, leaning back just slightly, like he was letting you decide how close to let him stay. “especially when somebody lookin this different all of a sudden.”
your pulse kicked. you swallowed, your fingers twisting the hem of your skirt. “you keep saying that but different how?”
he tilted his head, eyes lingering just long enough to make you squirm. “grown.” his voice was smooth.
your lips parted, gloss catching the light. you hadn’t meant for it but the next words slipped out before you could stop them. “so… in a good way?”
his smile deepened, subtle but there. “yeah…in a good way, like I said before..”
for a second the air felt charged, heavy with the possibility of what could happen if you leaned in just a little more. his knee brushed yours, deliberate this time, testing. your breath hitched but you didn’t move away.
and then—
“what y’all talkin about?” onika’s voice cut through the tension as she strolled back in, phone in hand. she dropped onto the couch without missing a beat, sliding herself between you and ony like she hadn’t just shattered something fragile.
you tried to compose yourself, tugging your skirt down and grabbing a handful of chips like your heartbeat wasn’t going wild. ony only chuckled under his breath, low and amused, before reaching for his phone again.
“nothin’,” he said simply. his eyes flicked to you once more and the weight of it lingered long after onika sat down.
the movie ended in the background, credits rolling while onika scrolled through her phone, barely paying attention. you gathered your things, tucking lip gloss back into your little purse, pretending like your hands weren’t trembling from how close ony had been all night.
he stood when you did like it was nothing but when he caught your eye he asked quietly, “you need a ride?”
“oh—” you glanced at onika, who just waved her hand like it was nothing. “yeah, that’d be cool.”
the walk to his car felt heavier than it should’ve. the night was warm, the air sticky sweet with magnolia and fried food drifting from the corner. every step you took in your sandals clicked against the pavement, echoing the beat of your pulse.
inside the car, the quiet was thick. the hum of the engine and the faint bass from his stereo filled the space but it still felt like everything was balanced on the edge of something unsaid. you caught him glancing over at you at red lights, the corner of his mouth curving like he knew you noticed.
halfway to your place, you shifted in your seat, tugging at your skirt. “thanks for the ride,” you said softly, even though you weren’t there yet.
“no problem,” he said. his voice was calm but his hand drummed once against the wheel before he added, “you know… you don’t gotta be so nervous around me.”
you laughed under your breath, a shaky little sound. “who said i was nervous?”
he pulled up in front of your building, cutting the engine. the silence that followed was sharp, almost electric. he turned his head, leaned back against the seat, and let his eyes linger.
“nobody had to,” he said finally.
your breath caught. the car suddenly felt too small, too charged. your lashes lowered, glossed lips parting and it was like that tiny shift was all he’d been waiting for.
he leaned in slow, giving you time to pull away. you didn’t. instead you met him halfway, lips brushing tentative at first before the spark caught and deepened.
the kiss was warm, steady, and then hungrier when he tilted his head, his tongue sliding against yours just enough to make your thighs press together. you made a sound you hadn’t meant to—a soft, needy hum—and he groaned low in response, hand coming up to cup your jaw.
heat rushed down your spine. you kissed him back harder, twisting in your seat so you could lean into him, fingers curling in the fabric of his shirt. the windows fogged faintly, his cologne heavy in the air, the wet sound of your mouths filling the space between breaths.
when he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, both of you catching your breath.
“you sure this is what you want?” he asked quietly, his thumb brushing the edge of your lip where the gloss had smeared.
your pulse thudded, boldness rushing in before the shyness could choke you out. “come inside,” you whispered, barely louder than the hum of the car.
the look he gave you in that moment—surprised then amused—burned hotter than the kiss. he didn’t even hesitate, just shut off the headlights and got out to follow you upstairs.
the second your bedroom door shut behind you, ony pressed you back against it, his hands braced on either side of your head. the kiss picked up where it left off in the car—slow at first, then hungrier, his tongue coaxing yours until you were whimpering into his mouth.
you gasped when his hand slid down, gripping your waist, thumb brushing the bare skin between your crop top and skirt. the heat of his palm burned into you, grounding and thrilling all at once.
“mm, you don’t know how long i been waiting on you to stop actin so shy around me,” he murmured against your lips, voice low and teasing.
your breath hitched. “i—”
“shhh,” he cut you off, leaning down to kiss along your jaw, trailing to your neck. “just let me talk. you listen.”
you nodded, already pliant under him.
he tilted your chin up with two fingers. “this your first time?”
you shook your head, cheeks warming. “my second…”
ony’s smirk softened into something more approving. “good. then you already know a little. but i’ma still take my time with you.”
his hand slid down the curve of your thigh, hitching your skirt up slowly. the sound of the fabric shifting was loud in the quiet room. your breath stuttered when his fingers brushed the edge of your panties, tracing the outline without moving in yet.
“so sensitive,” he muttered, watching your lashes flutter. “you already wet for me?”
a shaky sound left your throat, half a whimper, half a yes.
he chuckled low, the vibration against your neck making you shiver. “lemme hear it.”
“y-yeah… i am.”
“that’s my girl,” he praised, finally slipping his fingers past the thin cotton. the wet, slick sound when he slid through your folds made your whole body jolt. you gripped at his shirt, thighs squeezing together around his hand.
“relax,” he murmured, pressing a slow kiss to your lips as his middle finger circled your clit, steady and patient. “open up for me. you can take it.”
you moaned quietly, the sound caught in his mouth. your hips twitched forward, chasing the rhythm he set. every wet stroke against your clit made your stomach tighten, the pleasure building too quickly.
“don’t run from it,” ony said firmly when you tried to twist away. he used his free hand to grip your hip, holding you in place. “you feel good, don’t you? then stay still and take it.”
“mm—o-ony…” your voice broke, breathy and desperate.
he groaned at the way you said his name, slipping a finger inside you. the stretch was slow but deliberate, his gaze fixed on your face as you gasped.
“tight lil pussy,” he muttered, working you open. “you gon squeeze me like that when i’m inside?”
you moaned, nails digging into his shoulders as he added a second finger, scissoring gently. the wet, messy sound of his fingers fucking into you filled the room, mixed with your breathless whines.
“look at me,” he said, tilting your chin again when you tried to hide your face. “you can be shy all you want, but when you in my hands, you don’t get to hide. you let me see everything.”
your chest rose and fell rapidly, eyes glassy as you forced yourself to meet his. the intensity in his gaze nearly undid you.
when your legs started to shake, he eased his hand back, pulling his slick fingers out to press against your lips. “open.”
hesitant but burning inside, you parted your mouth. he slid two fingers in, slow, watching your lips stretch around them.
“good girl,” he praised, voice deep. “suck.”
you whined at the command but obeyed, tongue swirling around the taste of yourself. his groan rumbled low, his cock already straining against his sweats.
“you ready to feel me now?” he asked, pulling his fingers free and wiping them on your thigh.
“yes,” you whispered, surprising yourself with how eager it sounded.
his smirk returned, darker this time. “then get on the bed. hands and knees.”
the way he said it left no room for hesitation.
you crawled onto the bed, your body humming with nerves and want, knees sinking into the mattress. your hands pressed into the sheets, heart racing as you waited.
ony’s weight dipped the bed behind you, his presence overwhelming in the best way. you heard the soft rustle as he tugged his sweats down, the quiet hiss under his breath when his cock sprang free.
“arch that back for me,” he said low.
you obeyed, trembling as you lowered your chest and pushed your ass up. the cool air brushed over the wet cling of your panties before he hooked a finger in them, tugging the fabric down slow.
“fuck,” he muttered under his breath, his hand smoothing over your bare ass. “look at you. been hidin’ all this from me?”
your face burned. “n-no…”
he chuckled, leaning down to kiss the dip of your spine. “don’t gotta be shy no more, baby. this all mine now.”
you shivered when he slid the fat head of his cock through your slick folds, not pushing in yet—just letting you feel the weight, the heat, the promise. the sound was wet and obscene, your body already begging for more.
“you hear that?” he murmured, dragging himself back and forth against your clit until you whimpered. “that’s how bad you want me. pussy talkin for you.”
“please,” you breathed, voice cracking.
“please what?” he teased, pressing the head against your entrance, not moving further.
“please… fuck me.”
he groaned at the way you begged, finally pushing forward an inch. your walls clutched around him instantly, the stretch making you gasp.
“goddamn, you tight,” he gritted, holding your hip steady. “breathe, baby. let me in slow.”
he fed you more of him inch by inch, pausing when you clenched too hard. your breath came fast, little cries escaping as you adjusted to the thick intrusion.
“good girl,” he praised, rubbing your back soothingly. “you takin me so good. relax for me, yeah?”
you exhaled shakily, your body loosening just enough for him to sink deeper. the stretch bordered on overwhelming, but the fullness had you moaning into the sheets.
“that’s it,” he whispered, finally bottoming out with a deep groan. “feel me all the way in there? that’s mine now.”
you nodded frantically, unable to form words.
he stayed still for a moment, letting you get used to him before pulling back slowly. the wet drag of his cock sliding out of you made your whole body jolt, and when he eased back in, the glide was easier.
the first thrusts were steady, measured, each one accompanied by the sound of your slickness and his low curses. your moans grew louder, hips pushing back against him without thinking.
“that’s it,” he encouraged, his grip tightening on your waist. “fuck me back, don’t run. i got you.”
the rhythm built gradually, his pace picking up as your body melted around him. every thrust made your ass clap back against his thighs, the sound filling the room with your breathless cries.
“fuck, you feel so good,” he groaned, leaning over you, his chest against your back. his hand slid under your body to rub your clit in slow circles.
the added pressure made you cry out, legs trembling as your climax coiled tight. “ony—oh my god—”
“don’t hold it,” he growled against your ear, voice rough with control. “let it go for me. i wanna feel you cum on my dick.”
your body obeyed before your mind could catch up. your pussy clenched down hard, the orgasm crashing through you in waves. you screamed into the pillow, whole body shaking as the pleasure tore through you.
“that’s my girl,” ony groaned, fucking you through it, his thrusts turning rougher. “squeezin the life outta me.”
the wet, messy sounds grew louder as he chased his own release, hips snapping harder until he let out a deep, guttural moan. he spilled inside you, cock pulsing with every spurt, holding you pinned under him while he emptied.
the room was thick with the smell of sex, the sound of your shared breathing filling the silence. he kissed your shoulder once, a softer touch after the intensity.
“you good?” he asked, voice husky.
you nodded weakly, still trembling. “yeah…”
he smirked against your skin, pulling out slowly and watching his cum drip down your thighs. “better than good. you mine now.”
the next morning your phone lit up before you were even fully awake. a new number. the name at the top: ony 🖤.
you had to bite your lip to keep from squealing. it wasn’t just that he gave you his number—it was the little heart he’d put next to it.
all day, you kept sneaking peeks at it, your stomach flipping every time. by the time you packed your bag for the sleepover at onika’s, you were ready to burst.
her room was the same cozy chaos it always was—clothes everywhere, the faint smell of floral lotion and burning incense. you two sat cross legged on her bed with face masks on, scrolling through your phones.
you’d been holding it in as long as you could. finally you whispered, “so… i got somethin to tell you.”
onika didn’t even look up. “what? you finally gon admit you ate all my hot cheetos last week?”
you rolled your eyes and nudged her. “no, for real.”
her eyes flicked to you, curious now. “what?”
you hesitated, the words caught between nerves and excitement. finally you blurted it out in a rush, “me and your brother… we kissed.”
the way onika gasped nearly made you cover her mouth.
“bitch. bitchhhh. my brother?” she squealed, grabbing your arm.
“shhh! not so loud,” you hissed, looking toward the door like ony might walk in.
she threw her pillow at you, wide-eyed and grinning. “don’t tell me that’s all you did—”
your silence gave you away. your face heated under the mask, and you couldn’t stop the little shy smile tugging at your lips.
“OH MY GOD. nah. nahhh. you didn’t—” she clutched her chest dramatically. “my best friend fucked my brother? this is a soap opera.”
you smacked her leg, whispering frantically, “keep your voice down!”
onika collapsed back on the bed, kicking her feet and laughing so hard she almost cried. “i knew it was gon happen. i been tryna set y’all up for years but damn… i ain’t think you’d actually fold.”
“i didn’t fold,” you muttered, hiding your face in her pillow. “he—he kinda… took the lead.”
“oh my goddd.” onika fanned herself like she was overheated. “girl, that’s my brother. ew. but also? i’m proud of you. you really stepped outta that shy girl shell.”
you peeked at her, lips twitching. “you not mad?”
“mad?” she sat up, grinning like a devil. “please. if anybody’s gon be my sister-in-law, it better be you. but just know i’m never gonna be normal about this. like ever.”
you both dissolved into laughter, the kind of loud, breathless giggles that only came out during sleepovers.
later that night, when the room was dark and you were half buried under blankets, onika whispered, “so… he got good stroke or what?”
you groaned into your pillow, kicking her this time. “oh my god, shut upppp.”
her laugh echoed in the dark, mischievous and unrelenting. “nah, you definitely gotta tell me.”
you groaned into your pillow. “nooo, i can’t.”
“yes you can. that’s my brother, you have to tell me.” she poked your side until you swatted at her. “come on. i know you wanna get it off your chest.”
your heart raced just thinking about it again. still, the words spilled out before you could stop yourself. “okay… but you better not make it weird.”
“girl, it’s already weird,” she snorted. “but i’m ready. spill.”
you pulled the blanket up over your face, muffling your voice. “he… he kissed me in the car. then we came inside and… it just… happened.”
onika gasped dramatically. “nah, don’t skip. what happened? did he… y’know…”
you bit your lip, cheeks burning. “he had me on my knees on the bed. told me to arch my back. i thought i was gonna die right there.”
“OH MY GOD.” she clapped a hand over her mouth to keep from cackling too loud. “not him bossin you around like that.”
“shhh,” you whispered but you couldn’t help laughing a little too. “and he… he was so big. like i didn’t think it was gonna fit.”
“girl, stop. ew. that’s my brother.” she kicked her feet, half horrified, half intrigued. “but also… keep goin.”
you hid your face deeper under the blanket. “he made me say please before he even gave it to me. like… just had me whining.”
onika gagged so loud you both broke into giggles. “ew ew ew. not you begging my brother. i’m never looking at you the same.”
“i’m serious though!” you said, laughing through your embarrassment. “he kept telling me i was his girl, and like—ugh—i can still hear his voice in my head.”
“you so down bad,” she teased, shaking her head. “i can’t believe my nerdy ass best friend is gettin railed by my brother and loving it.”
“i didn’t say all that,” you muttered, but your grin gave you away.
“nah, you did,” she said, eyes wide with mischief. “you was in here tellin me about how you was archin your back and beggin. girl, that’s crazy.”
you both burst into another fit of giggles, rolling around in the blankets until your sides hurt.
when the laughter finally died down, onika turned serious for half a second. “so… you really like him, huh?”
you hesitated, then nodded, soft. “yeah. i think i do.”
she smiled, shaking her head like she couldn’t believe it. “welp. guess i’m doomed to be the third wheel. but at least you finally stepped outta your shell.”
“shut up,” you said, throwing a pillow at her.
the room filled with laughter again, the kind that only came at sleepovers—loud, shameless, and impossible to hold in.
the sleepover wound down the way they always did—face masks peeled off, snacks half eaten on the nightstand, and onika passed out with her bonnet slipping off one side. you laid next to her in the dark, wide awake, your mind buzzing with too many thoughts.
your phone vibrated under the blanket. you slid it out quietly, the glow lighting your face.
you up?
your heart skipped. you typed back fast.
yeah
a pause. then another buzz.
come to my room
you swallowed, sneaking a glance at onika’s sleeping form. her soft snores filled the silence.
your thumbs trembled.
she’s sleep rn
exactly. slide thru
your stomach flipped. you slipped out of bed slow, careful not to wake her and padded down the hall in your little sleep shorts and cami. ony’s door cracked open before you even knocked.
he leaned against the frame, bare chested, sweatpants hanging low on his hips. the dim light behind him threw his muscles into shadow.
“knew you’d come,” he said low, smirking as he pulled you inside.
the door clicked shut soft, sealing you into the warmth of his room. your pulse roared in your ears, every sense lit up.
“ony…” you whispered, not sure if it was a question or a warning.
he stepped closer, caging you against the wall. “don’t worry. she’s out cold. ain’t nobody gon hear you.”
your breath hitched as his fingers trailed up your arm, slow and deliberate.
“you know i couldn’t stop thinkin bout last night,” he murmured, his mouth brushing your ear. “how good you felt. how sweet you sounded when you begged me.”
your thighs pressed together, heat flooding you at the memory.
he tilted your chin up, forcing your eyes to his. “so what you gon do now that you snuck in my room? you gon be a good girl and let me touch you again?”
the question sank into you like a dare, your body answering before your mouth did—you nodded, trembling.
his smirk widened, dark and pleased. “that’s what i thought.”
he kissed you then, deep and claiming, one big hand already sliding down to grab a handful of your ass. you whimpered against him, but he swallowed the sound, pressing his body harder to yours.
“shhh,” he murmured against your lips, smirk tugging. “you don’t want her hearin, do you?”
you shook your head, breath shaky.
“then keep it quiet for me.”
he pulled you to the bed, sitting on the edge before tugging you between his knees. his hands slid up your thighs, fingers brushing under the hem of your shorts.
“take these off,” he ordered, voice low.
your hands trembled as you peeled your shorts down, panties damp and clinging. ony’s eyes darkened, his cock already thick under his sweats.
“fuck,” he muttered, pulling you onto his lap. “been wantin this pussy all day.”
you gasped when his fingers slid between your folds, slick and wet. the obscene sound made your face heat but your hips rolled into his touch without thinking.
“already drippin for me,” he teased, pressing two fingers inside. the stretch made you whimper, walls clenching around him.
“quiet,” he warned, covering your mouth with his free hand when a moan slipped out. “you too loud, baby. you want your best friend wakin up to this?”
the thought made your stomach flip, shame and thrill tangling until you were soaking his fingers.
he smirked, curling them just right until your body jerked. “that’s what i thought. you like it nasty but you ain’t tryna get caught.”
he pulled his hand free, licking his fingers slow just to make you squirm. then he shoved his sweats down, his cock heavy and flushed, veins thick under your gaze.
“c’mon,” he whispered, lining himself up. “sit on it.”
your breath caught but you braced your hands on his shoulders and lowered yourself. the thick head stretched you slow, inch by inch, until you were gasping into his neck.
“fuck, you so tight,” he groaned, gripping your hips. “take all of it. don’t stop now.”
you sank down until he was buried inside, the fullness making your eyes roll back. ony hissed through his teeth, holding you there while your walls fluttered around him.
“good girl,” he praised, voice rough. “now move.”
you rocked your hips, trying to keep steady but every drag of his cock made you want to cry out. ony noticed, smirking as he wrapped his hand around your throat, not squeezing, just holding.
“keep that voice down,” he murmured. “don’t make me cover your mouth again.”
you nodded frantically, biting your lip as you bounced in his lap. the wet slap of skin meeting skin filled the room, obscene and risky.
he groaned low, fucking up into you now, his pace harder. “that’s it, baby. ride me like you mean it.”
your nails dug into his shoulders, breath breaking into muffled whines. the coil in your belly snapped, your orgasm tearing through you so hard you had to bury your face in his neck to keep quiet.
“ohh, that’s it,” he growled, holding your hips down, grinding into your spasming walls. “squeezin the life outta me.”
he thrust up rougher, chasing his release, until he spilled inside you with a deep groan, forehead pressed to yours.
the silence after was thick, only your panting filling the room. ony smirked, brushing your hair back.
“you dangerous,” he whispered, kissing your cheek. “gon have me fuckin you in this house with her right next door.”
you giggled breathlessly, still shaking but leaned into him anyway.
“and you,” he added, tapping your chin so you’d look at him, “better not act shy tomorrow. i want you walkin round this house like you mine.”
Synopsis: Stack absolutely hates when you post on social media.
Warnings: Heavy Smut, degrading, overstimulation, Stack is insatiable, pregnant sex, cursing, use of N word, overstimulation, squirting, Stack talks you through it.
MINORS DNI
-
You were the perfect picture of innocence. A rare beauty that stopped anyone dead in their tracks, with a smile so warm they could practically melt. A southern belle with an accent thick enough to make anyone swoon. You had always been the center of attention and yet remained humble enough to ignore it.
You also ignored all the boys that tried to tie you down, not interested in the cookie cutter, goodie two shoes that were convinced they’d be perfect for you.
Your mother begged you to settle down with a good man like Johnny, who goes to church every Sunday, or Thomas, who was the pastors son. But you didn’t care for them, they bored you out of your mind. Too soft to handle you like how you truly wanted.
You were convinced that Mississippi didn’t have the version of the man you craved and that at some point you’d have to settle for one those men your mom kept trying to put you on to.
That was until the twins moved back. You hadn’t heard of them, too busy wrapped inside your own little world to worry about what others had going on but once they came back, the word spread like wildfire. The flames were big enough to knock the walls down of your domaine and the whispers echoed loudly in your ears.
“Heard they just came back from Chicago.”
“I heard they was over there stealing and killing people.”
“I’m surprised they ain’t locked up. Somebody should do something.”
You minded your business though, tended to your horses, dogs and your bakery business.
Cookies, pies, cakes, brownies and just about anything sweet that you could name, was your specialty. You started getting called Peaches for your obsession with making peach cobbler and handing it out to your neighbors. You had learned to cook and bake from a very early age, your mother making sure you knew how to throw down in the kitchen so that you could impress your potential husband.
But you didn’t care for that, you learned because you liked it, loved it actually, and eventually you took your talents elsewhere.
To Tik Tok.
Pink kitchen and utensils caught the attention of millions of people who liked to watch you do what you do best. You hadn’t expected the surge of attention, the videos only being posted in hopes to your reach your friends and family, but the algorithm had other plans. And so that’s how you spent your days, tending to your animals and baking sweets for your millions of fans and to share with your neighbors. Eventually you became the talk of the town, everybody wanted to try a piece of your desserts and before you knew it, you had people showing up at your doorstep asking for anything, a crumb even.
One night, while you were preparing sugar cookies, you heard a knock at your door that wasn’t frantic like it usually was. It was slow and loud. Just two knocks.
You wiped your hands on your pink apron, long curly light brown hair cascading down your back as you walk towards the entrance, the shorts you wore barely covered your ass and the cropped tank top hugged your upper body tight. You weren’t expecting anyone this late, no one usually showed up at this time.
The clock ticked to 11PM just as your hand reached the handle. A man, who you hadn’t seen before, stood there in a all black suit. His face was expressionless but his eyes stayed on the way your cheeks reddened before they traveled down your body, zeroing in on the deep brown moisturized skin that glowed against the moonlight.
Something about his demeanor made your stomach turn, nerves clawing at your body, but there was something else, a heat hidden behind the fear.
“Oh. Hi! H-How may I help you?” Your voice was soft and something about it caused Stack’s jaw to tick slightly, that and the way you smelled of fresh vanilla and peaches.
“Evenin ma’am. Names’ Stack. My apologizes for disturbing you so late. I’m here on behalf of Mrs. Delphine, says her husband sick and in the hospital again, been craving sum of them lemon cookies you be making.”
His voice was deep and rough in a way that would send anybody else running. Accent slow like molasses and thick just like yours. Your thighs clenched before you could stop yourself.
“Oh um. Y-yeah. I have some. I just gotta pack them up for him. Um—” You hesitated, teeth sinking into your plush lip before mentally telling yourself ‘Fuck it’.
“Um— Do you want to come in and wait while I get everything together?”
Stack nodded, a small smirk appeared on his lips before he stepped inside your little world that you had carefully crafted for yourself.
And the rest was history.
Your viewers started to notice the change, the way you recorded videos with a smile so wide you’d think the measuring cups had told you a joke. They noticed how softer you were, the dreamy look on your face and the way you just glowed.
Assumptions about a man being in the picture were in almost every single video you posted. You didn’t bother confirming nor denying anything. Just let them keep guessing.
Until you popped out with a ring on your finger. You weren’t even bothering on being discreet, your perfectly manicured hand was all in the camera as you recorded how you baked a cheesecake. The boulder on your finger catching the light and making its presence known.
You tried to remove the ring, your audience too distracted by it to pay attention to what you were making but Stack wasn’t having that. Not one bit.
“Stop fucking playin with me. Put that shit back on.”
He groaned as he watched the video you had posted without it. Stack didn’t even have a tik tok account before you, didn’t even care about anything pertaining to social media. But once the two of you got together, he made sure to watch anything you posted.
‘User3829928’ liked your video.
He didn’t even bother making a name for himself, didn’t care to post or even watch anything else. His only purpose was to watch you. Sometimes you’d post things to get under his skin. A picture with a miniskirt that was wayyyy too short. A dress that hugged your curves too tight for a video on how to make homemade ice cream. Or starting a ‘get ready with me’ video in a silk robe that showed a little too much for him. Each time ended with you on your knees, attempting to apologize to him as he fucked your throat. You promised you wouldn’t do it again through tears that seeped through the pillow case while he fucked you silly.
But you never kept your promises.
-
You shouldn’t have done it, but you were frustrated beyond belief. Stack had left early that morning with the lie stuck on his lips that he’d return in time to make cupcakes with you. It was a cute little tradition the two of you had started since you first got together.
Every Friday, the two of you would spend the day baking or cooking something. Anything.
Last Friday, Stack wanted tomato soup and grilled cheese. So the two of you spent the day making that, even had more than enough to send over to Smoke and Annie.
This Friday though, you and the small little bean growing inside of your belly were craving cupcakes and Stack had given you his word. Said he just had a few errands to run with Smoke and that he’d be back early enough to bake the cupcakes so that they’d be ready by dinner time.
By 5PM you were still waiting for him, the pout on your face deepened as you texted him for the 8th time in the past 10 minutes.
By 5:30 you have had enough. You changed into a red halter top, mini dress that Stack had specifically bought just for you to wear for him, fluffed out your curls and touched up your makeup. You grabbed your phone, set it up on the tripod in the kitchen and started the live.
Comments flooded in seconds, compliments being thrown left and right. Some from the ladies but most from men.
“Hi guys!” You waved to the camera, the stack of bracelets dancing loudly on your wrist. “It’s a bit late but I was planning on making cupcakes so I figured you guys would like to join me.” Your smile was sweet, as it always was. No one suspected your ulterior motives.
No more than 5 minutes of you starting, your iPad started ringing. Your phone, which was placed on DND, recorded as you watched your iPad ring before shutting it off.
It only took Stack 20 minutes to drive home. You were distracted, too deep into explaining your recipe to notice him walk into the kitchen. His heavily tatted arms were crossed across his chest, his body stiff behind your phone. White T shirt clung to his muscles, black jeans handing low on his hips, some Jordan’s and chains sitting heavy on his pretty neck.
“Okay so make sure that you’re adding enough vanilla extract or it’s going to taste like—” You jumped once you noticed him, heart racing loudly in your chest. The viewers noticed, half concerned, half excited to maybe get a glimpse of your man.
“Is that him?”
“Omg don’t tell me we’re about to meet Mr.Peaches himself.”
“Guys have you noticed that she looks a bit pregnant here?”
Stack eyed you. Fully. From the top of your head, down to the French tip pedicure on your toes. He clenched his jaw as he looked at the dress you wore.
“End the live fa me, baby.” You bit the side of your bottom lip, eyes wide and staring up at him. Somewhat embarrassed that this was happening on live, somewhat turned on from the intensity of his stare.
“I—I’m not done, papa.”
“I know you ain’t done but we gotta talk, so end the live.”
“Ooop not my good sis done fucked up”
“Shiiiitttt girl he sound like he not playing, ga head and end the live.”
“Why do I feel like I’m the one getting in trouble?”
You nodded. “Okay guys, I’ll see yall in a bit.” The screen went dark as soon as the live ended. You locked your phone and placed it on the counter. You could feel the weight of his eyes on you but pretended not to.
“You like playing with me?” Stack slowly walked up to you.
“Stack—”
“Nah, answer me. You like pissing me off?” He stood right in front of you, arms on either side, holding on to the counter behind you. He leaned down and it took everything in you not to throw yourself into his warmth. He smelled of cologne and weed, scent strong enough to make you dizzy with desire.
“No…” your lips formed a pout, eyes wide in the way you knew could get you anything you wanted. His lips twitched, trying hard not to smirk at how cute you looked. “Get ya ass upstairs. Now.”
“But-”
“Now, baby.”
You nodded, and headed up the stairs with him trailing behind you. He didn’t like being mean to you, you were too sweet for that, but he was never afraid to put you in your place.
You sat at the edge of the bed and waited for him to walk in, your nerves were through the roof but you also lived for the thrill and he knew that. Stack’s steps were heavy, you expected him to walk right to you, to grab you up and choke you like how he always does but instead he walks to the vanity that sat across from the bed. You watched the muscles on his back move, his big frame blocking what he was doing.
After a few seconds of messing around, he turned and walked to you. His hand gently gripped your jaw, thumb smoothing circles onto your skin. “You wanted my attention, mama? Huh? That’s why you did that?”
You nod, face formed into a pout. This wasn’t usual for him, the gentleness after you piss him off.
“Nah speak up. Tell me what the problem is.” Your breath stutters and eyebrows furrow in confusion. His voice was soft, the complete opposite of what you were expecting. “Speak, mama. I’m here now. Tell me what’s up.”
Your mouth opens, getting ready to spill your truth, to admit that your hormones and emotions were completely out of wack and all you wanted was your man.
Stack lowers down to his knees, his hands pull your dress up in one quick motion. A small gasp escapes your mouth when he presses a kiss to your knee, trailing his lips further up your thigh. “I don’t hear you.” He looks up at you, waiting for you to say something, anything.
“I—It’s just that I-” Stack spreads your legs further, prompting you to lean back on to your elbows. He digs his nose onto the damp spot of your panties, groaning at your scent. Your breathing picks up, hands already gripping onto the sheets and body slightly trembling.
“Mm, so fucking sensitive.” He places a kiss to your covered mound before gripping the sides of your underwear and pulling them down your legs. “I don’t hear you talking.”
You whimpered at the heat of his face so close to where you needed him the most. “Elias” You softly begged.
“Nah, none of that. I ain’t moving till you speak.”
You groan, laying your body down fully as your eyes stare up at the ceiling. “I just… I really wanted cupcakes and you promised me you’d make them with me—” Stack dug his face in your drenched pussy, tongue flattening on your clit before pulling back. A moan stops you mid sentence, eyes drifting down to him as you watch him spit. His fingers mix it with your essence before slowly pushing into your tight hole.
“Eliiiasssss” Your back arches, small belly bump covering the way he leans in and wraps his lips around your aching clit.
“I ain’t tell you to stop, did I?” His fingers curl inside of you, moving faster as his tongue continuously laps up your juices. “Talk to me. I’m listening.”
“F-Fuck!” Your moans mixed into whimpers, already feeling the coil forming in your stomach. “Don’t stop.” You gasped, eyes rolled to back of your head while Stack feasted on you.
He smacked the inside of your thigh with his free hand. “Keep talking or ima stop.” You felt him slow down, face slowly pulling back just as you were about to cum.
“Fuuuuckk, okay okayyy. I just, I needed you here—” Stack hummed in satisfaction, fingers continuing to slowly pump in and out of you while he watched you try not to fall apart. “A—And you were gone for a long time—” You couldn’t stop whimpering, pregnancy making you extra sensitive to his touch.
“Mhm and what else, mama?”
You squirmed, full body trembling from the feel of his fingers reaching deep inside of you as he slightly picked up his pace. “Eliasss fuucckkkk.”
“Keep going, you doing good, baby.” He placed kisses to your clit, holding you right at the edge of that breaking point.
“Fuccckkkk, I just needed you here. I needed your attention— I just wanted you, daddy.” You sounded so sultry, voice high and full of moans.
“Yeah? That’s all it was?” Stack puckered his lips around your clit again and let his tongue play with it. You cried out, hands reaching out to grab his head while your hips frantically moved up and down his face.
“Yes! Yes! That was all, daddy. I swear!” It didn’t take much for the restraint to snap, your juices decorated Stacks face and your body twisted and turned as if trying to find a place to store the pleasure you were feeling.
“You so fucking wet, my god.” Stack moaned as he sucked and licked every drop from you. He stood to his full height, hands immediately reaching for his shirt and removing it. Next was his pants, thrown to the side along with his boxers. You moaned at the sight of him, tattoos tracing his front and back, including your name right along the side of his neck.
Stack grabbed your body and turned you to the side, then laid right behind you. His arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you to his chest while the other one gripped your leg, lifting it high enough for your knee to reach his shoulder. “This what you wanted, right?” You felt the head of his dick nudge your folds, drenching it in your essence. The sound was obscene. There was no denying how badly you needed him.
“Yessssss.” You arched back onto him.
“Ga head, take it. Take what you want.”
Your trembling hand reached down and grabbed his dick, slowly pushing it inside of you. Stack groaned, burying his face in your neck as he slowly moved his hips.
Moans escaped your open mouth as you felt the stretch from the pure girth he carried. “Oh my god.” You cried out as he bottomed out, his full length deep inside of you while you clawed at his arm and the sheets. “Fuck!”
“Mhmm, take it, take that shit baby.” He sped up his pace. Thrusting in and out of you while you cried out every time he kissed your cervix.
“S—so big, papa!” You whined, already feeling the way your stomach was tightening again.
“I know baby, I know. But you can take it right? Look how good you’re doing. Taking all this big dick.” He grabbed your face and turned it to his. Your lips met in a slow dance that contrasted with the way he was fucking you. You couldn’t stop moaning into his mouth, your face forming a small pout.
“Don’t look at me like that. You wanted this right? Take it. Just like that.” His voice was like silk against your ears. Your hand weakly grabbed onto his arm as you squirted with every thrust.
“Eliaaaassssss!”
“Mhmmm, give it to me. Give me all that shit. Nut all on your dick, baby.”
Your body shook and bent against him but he wouldn’t dare stop. You were nothing but gasps and whimpers, trying your best to come down from the intense high you just experienced.
Stack pressed your lips together again, tongue sneaking its way into your mouth. “Open.” He spit into your mouth the second you followed his order. Hips still digging into you.
He slowed down and shifted so that he’d be able to deepen his strokes. You sobbed into his neck, your French tips pressing crescent moons on his thigh. His other hand rubbed your small but plump belly. “Cum for me again. Do it. Let me see you break.”
Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as your juices sprayed out of you, another orgasm ripping through your body without permission.
“Drown me just like that. Keep going, don’t fucking stop.” His lips were right by your ear, you heard every small groan, every breath and whisper that he tried to hide.
“Okaaayyyy.” You whined, feeling completely out of your own body.
You couldn’t stop squirting, all you could was sob and try your hardest to gain some type of control of the situation but your body was overstimulated and done for. Stack didn’t care though, he kept going. Dick sliding in and out of you with a wet splat each time he went all the way in.
“Good girl, mama. You gon let me ruin you like this, huh?” His strokes slowed down, you felt each inch of his thick cock trying to tear you apart.
“I— I can’t.” Your tears fell in waterfalls, short breaths turned into gasps as he continued to abuse your already swollen folds.
“Yes you can. Come on, give me one more. You can do that for me, right?”
“I caaaannnt. Elias, I can’t, fuck. I can’t.” Your toes curled and your body hadn’t stopped trembling since he started. You cried out over and over again as you reached a state of what felt like hysteria. He felt so good but you could barely breathe and were practically drooling. Your eyes kept rolling to the back of your head and your juices drenched the mattress beneath you.
Stack reached his hand down and pressed a two fingers to your clit. Your jaw dropped, hand reaching back to lightly slap his chest over and over again, as he rubbed your nub in circles. Screams echoed throughout the room as your body practically convulsed.
“There she go. That’s exactly where I want you. Just like that, baby. Stay just like that while I ruin you.” Your walls fluttered around his length, another orgasm threatening to destroy you. “Breathe. Let me hear you.”
You took a deep breath, eyes squeezing shut while you sobbed. “I love your dick, daddy. I love it so much!” You cried out loud.
“Yea? This why yo ass pregnant now. Nasty ass girl.”
“Keep fucking me, please! You feel so good inside my pussy. Don’t stop. Don’t stop!”
He moaned against your ear, hips stuttering from trying to hold himself back. “Look at you. Dumb off of dick. They don’t even know how you get. Tryna act all innocent for them people—If only they fucking knew.” He sped up, hand lifting your leg higher to reach parts of you, you didn’t even know could be touched. “You love me, hm? Tell me you love me. Tell me I’m the only nigga that could ruin you like this.”
“I love you! I love you! I’m gonna cum. Fuck, I’m gonna fucking cum, Elias. Oh my god!” The hand on your clit sped up to match his thrusts.
“Say it. Tell me this mine. Tell me I own you.” His strokes were brutal, all that was heard was the slapping of his skin against yours and the mess you were currently making. “This my pussy, my body, my nut. All of it. Mine. You hear me? I own you, baby. All of you.”
“Yes! It’s yours. All yours! Fuck!” Your body snapped, shaking profusely as your cum flowed out of you. Stack whimpered, his thighs trembling as he filled you with his seed.
“Oh fucckkkk” he moaned against your shoulder, pressing kisses to your damp skin, trying his best to calm down. He slowed his movements, letting the both of you ride out the orgasm.
You twitched against him, slumped over in a state of absolute bliss. Stack kissed you all over, hands rubbing your sides to calm you down.
Your eyes opened slowly, looking around as if you couldn’t believe that just happened. It felt like you had an out of body experience.
The vanity that sat right in front you, had your phone propped up and facing the both of you. Your eyes widen as you gasp.
Stack followed your eyesight, he chuckled slightly before getting up. Grabbing your phone, he pointed it right at your exhausted figure.
“Thought I’d keep this for memory as a reminder of what happens when you try to play with me.” You bit your lip, stomach turning in a way that it shouldn’t have been after all that. But the thought of having a video of the two of you having sex, saved into your phone where you could watch whenever, caused a fire to burn deep within you.
“Come on, baby. Show the camera the mess we made.” A smirk played on your lips as you turn over. Back arched and chest pressed onto the bed, you reach back and open your folds with two fingers. Stack groans, moving the camera closer to catch the way his nut slides out of you.
“Perfect.” He moaned before turning it off and lightly spanked your ass.
“Let’s get you cleaned up before you get me started again.” You giggle as he picks you up bridal style and heads to the bathroom.
