WELCOME

A look into my head. Things that I like and choose to share.

[dankmemeuniversity]

[griffstream]

Cosmic alignment…

[screechingcollectivecollectorus]

Fuck all of the good luck posts out there. Reblog this to immaculate your vibes

[fullcravings]

Red Velvet Chocolate Chip Cookies

[midnightmemoirsofher]

For My Girls

Pairing: Erik “Killmonger” Stevens × Laila “Sunshine” Greene (Black!OC)

Featuring: Baby Kori, toxic baby daddy drama, a protective man who loves out loud

Summary: Laila’s built a quiet life for her daughter, Kori — and Erik has been her peace through every storm. But peace don’t mean silence, and when her ex continues using co-parenting as a way to disrespect her and disrupt their relationship, Erik has one response: step in and stay ready.

He’s not jealous. He’s not insecure. He’s just done watching the woman he loves shrink herself for the sake of someone who never deserved her. And when Dre pushes too far, Erik reminds Laila exactly who she chose — and why he’s not going anywhere.

Warnings: Co-parenting with a toxic ex, emotional tension, light verbal threats (from Erik to baby daddy), cursing, creampie, deep emotional bonding, soft crying during sex, mentions of past emotional abuse, protective themes, found family, soft aftercare.

The smell of brown sugar and cinnamon drifted through the kitchen like gospel. Soft and slow, just like the playlist spilling from the Bluetooth speaker tucked behind the spice rack. SZA humming over Al Green, some old-school beat Erik didn’t even bother to skip. He was busy flipping pancakes with one hand, pouring Kori’s juice with the other, and humming like he didn’t have a single enemy in the world.

But Laila knew better. She always did.

She leaned in the doorway, robe tied low on her hips, coffee warming her palms. Her curls were still a mess, face bare, lips full and untouched by gloss or morning kisses — but Erik’s eyes still dragged over her like sin.

“Staring,” she muttered into her mug.

“Admiring,” he corrected, flipping the pancake like he’d done it a hundred times.

“You only cook when you tryin’ to distract yourself.”

“I cook when I wanna feed my family.”

Laila arched a brow. “And when you’re trying to keep from cussing somebody out?”

Erik didn’t answer.

He didn’t have to.

Kori giggled from her booster seat at the island, little hands smacking the tray while her baby curls bounced. “I want nanners in mine!”

“You already got ‘em, pumpkin,” Erik said, grabbing a fork and sliding a fresh slice onto her plate. “Daddy E hooked you up.”

“Thank you, Daddy E,” she sang out, syrup already smeared across her cheeks.

Laila’s heart pinched. Soft. Sharp. That complicated middle ground.

She moved to wipe Kori’s face, but Erik beat her to it, crouching with a paper towel and pressing a kiss to the girl’s sticky temple.

“Messy little queen,” he said, voice dipped in reverence. “You gon’ run the world one day, huh?”

Kori nodded, proud and sugar-high. “Like Mommy.”

Erik looked up, and his gaze found Laila’s again — softer this time. Full.

That was the thing about him. He didn’t just love loudly; he loved all the way through. No halfway, no parts of her, no conditions. When Erik Stevens showed up, he stayed. And when he claimed you, he didn’t flinch at what came with you — even when that part had a last name he wanted to erase from the planet.

Kori’s last name. Dre’s name.

The name that still sat on her birth certificate like a damn bruise.

Laila swallowed hard and stepped back toward the hallway. “I’m gonna go change.”

“You sure you up for today?” Erik called after her. “We can switch it up. He don’t gotta see you.”

Laila paused. Fingers clenched around the coffee mug tighter than they needed to be.

“I’m good,” she lied.

Erik’s jaw ticked, but he nodded once. “I’ll drive.”

Of course he would. He always did.

Laila took her time dressing, not because she was trying to look good, but because she didn’t want to think too long about what today meant. Every drop-off was the same: tension bubbling just under the surface, Dre trying to twist the knife with slick comments and hollow charm. He didn’t want her back — not really. He just hated that she moved on without lookin’ back.

And he especially hated Erik.

She smoothed her jeans, tugged her sweater down, and slipped on her gold hoops — the ones Erik liked. He called them her “quiet armor.”

By the time she came back down, Kori had syrup in her curls and Erik had her wrapped in a towel, swaying to the music while he cleaned her up like it was second nature. Like he’d been hers since the beginning.

Laila just stood there, quiet.

Watching the man she loved, holding the daughter she made without him, and loving them both like they were stitched from the same bone.

He glanced up. “You good, Sunshine?”

She nodded. “You sure you wanna come?”

His brow lifted.

“Let me say that again,” she backtracked. “You sure you wanna deal with his mouth?”

Erik didn’t blink.

“I deal with worse in my sleep. He don’t scare me.”

“I’m not worried about him scaring you. I’m worried about you… reacting.”

“I always react,” he said simply. “But only when it’s called for.”

He pulled the towel off Kori’s curls and kissed her forehead. “Go get your jacket, shorty. We got a mission.”

Kori squealed and ran off.

Laila turned to Erik, voice quiet. “You know he’s gonna hate seeing you again.”

“I hope he does.”

“That’s not helpful.”

“It ain’t supposed to be.”

He stepped closer, hands sliding to her waist. She smelled like warmth and sleep and that cocoa butter he kept stealing off her shelf.

“Far as I’m concerned, he can hate me all he wants — long as he knows you ain’t his to bother no more. Neither of y’all are.”

Laila exhaled. “You know I don’t need saving, right?”

Erik kissed her, slow and soft, just once. “I know. But I’m still gonna do it anyway.”

The ride was quiet.

Not the strained kind, but the kind where the tension sat in the cupholders and the rearview mirror, taking up more space than Kori’s car seat.

The soft hum of the radio played beneath Kori’s tiny voice in the back, singing off-key to a commercial jingle like she was headlining a stadium tour. Laila half-smiled and adjusted her sunglasses, trying to shake the weight pressing down on her shoulders.

Erik drove one-handed, the other resting casually on Laila’s thigh. Not rubbing, not squeezing—just there. Solid. Warm. Present.

“I should’ve picked a different sweater,” she murmured after a few blocks.

Erik didn’t take his eyes off the road. “You look fine, Sunshine.”

“It’s tight.”

“Still fine.”

She sighed. “It’s just—I don’t want him thinking I’m dressed for him.”

Now Erik did look over, slow and calm. “Ain’t nobody thinkin’ that but you.”

His tone wasn’t sharp, but it cut just the same.

Laila didn’t argue. She just looked out the window, watched the way the sunlight curved around the edges of passing trees. The street signs started to feel familiar, like unwelcome memories clawing back up her spine.

When they turned into the old gas station lot—neutral ground, public and unavoidable—Kori squealed, “Daddy car!”

Erik’s hand tightened just slightly on the wheel.

The silver Dodge Charger sat crooked in the lot like it owned the place. The windows were tinted too dark, the music too loud. Same as always. And just like always, Dre stepped out dressed like he was late to a photoshoot nobody asked for—gold chain, designer belt, and the same cocky little smirk that never reached his eyes.

Laila turned to check on Kori, but Erik was already climbing out.

“E—” she started.

“I got it.”

The door shut behind him before she could finish the sentence.

Erik stood tall beside the car, arms folded, expression unreadable.

Dre clocked him with a grin. “Aw, hell. Thought I might get a break this time.”

“You didn’t.”

Dre rolled his neck, cracking his knuckles like he was bored. “You ain’t tired of playin’ stepdaddy yet?”

“I ain’t playin’ at all,” Erik said evenly.

Laila stepped out with Kori just in time to hear it. She kept her daughter close, letting the toddler walk while she held her hand.

Dre’s eyes dragged over Laila for a second too long.

“That the sweater I bought you?”

Laila didn’t answer.

Erik took a step forward.

Dre grinned. “I’m just askin’. Damn. Can’t compliment the mother of my child?”

“Watch your mouth,” Erik said.

“I ain’t say nothin’ disrespectful—”

“You breathed. That was enough.”

Laila’s pulse jumped. “Okay, that’s enough—Kori, baby, go give your daddy a hug.”

Kori jogged up and wrapped her little arms around Dre’s leg. He bent down, scooped her up, and kissed her cheek.

“Hey, babygirl. You been good?”

“She made pancakes with Daddy E!” Kori beamed.

Dre’s smile cracked for half a second. “Did she now?”

“Yup. And we watched Moana and he braided my dolly’s hair.”

Erik didn’t flinch. Just stood there, jaw set, letting Kori speak freely.

Dre kissed her again and set her in the car seat in the back of his car. Then he straightened and turned to Laila with that smug little lean in his stance.

“You let her call him that now? ‘Daddy E?’ You cool with that?”

Laila held his stare. “I’m cool with her being loved.”

Dre scoffed. “You cool with him tryna replace me?”

“Nobody’s trying to replace you,” she said, voice tight. “But you damn sure ain’t about to disrespect the man who shows up for her every day.”

Erik stepped in. Voice low. Dead calm.

“You ever use Kori to come at her mama again, I’ll make sure you regret it. You hear me?”

Dre laughed like it didn’t rattle him, but his eyes said otherwise. “She still yours? Or you just babysittin’ what I left behind?”

That was it.

Erik moved so fast Dre didn’t flinch in time. One step, chest to chest. No raised voice. No threats. Just that quiet violence in his stare.

“She ain’t yours. Not anymore. Not her, and sure as hell not Laila. So if you wanna keep showing up here walking and breathing, you better act like you got some sense in front of both of ‘em.”

“E,” Laila warned softly.

He didn’t move. Just stared.

Dre took a step back, mouth twisting like he wanted to spit words that wouldn’t come.

Erik finally turned. Walked back to the car. Opened the door for Laila like nothing happened.

She slid in silently, heart hammering. When the door shut and Erik started the engine, she didn’t look at him.

But her voice was small. Shaky.

“Thank you.”

Erik stared ahead. “You don’t ever have to thank me for protecting what’s mine.”

The ride back was even quieter than the ride there.

Not peaceful.

Heavy.

Like the weight of everything unsaid was pressing down on the roof of the car, threatening to cave it in.

Laila stared out the window again, this time not watching anything in particular. Just letting the blur of storefronts and streetlights smear into her vision like watercolors left in the rain. Her fingers twisted in her lap. Her jaw clenched. She hadn’t even taken off her sunglasses, even though the sun was slipping lower.

Erik’s hand rested on the gear shift. Knuckles tight. He didn’t say a word. He hadn’t since the gas station.

But she could feel it. The restraint. The rage folded into that calm like a grenade in velvet.

“E…” she started, voice low.

He didn’t look over.

“You know you can’t do that every time.”

“Do what?” His voice was flat. Controlled. A whisper of smoke under pressure.

“Step in like that. You can’t let him get under your skin.”

“He don’t get under my skin,” Erik said, still not looking at her. “He disrespects you. And I don’t tolerate that. Not from him. Not from anybody.”

Laila sighed, head tipping back against the seat. “But you can’t just… threaten him.”

“I didn’t threaten him.”

She looked over, sunglasses finally sliding down her nose. “Erik—”

“I warned him. That’s different.”

She didn’t respond. Just stared, lips pressing into a thin line.

Erik finally glanced over, eyes unreadable.

“You mad at me?”

“No.”

“Disappointed?”

She hesitated.

“…Scared.”

That word sat between them like broken glass. Erik’s hand flexed once. Then again.

“You scared of me?” he asked, voice suddenly fragile.

Laila turned toward him fully, sliding her glasses off.

“No,” she said firmly. “Never you. I’m scared of what happens if he pushes you far enough to do something you can’t come back from.”

Erik’s jaw worked. A beat passed. Then two.

“Sunshine…” His voice cracked just slightly. “He uses that little girl to come for you. To twist you up. I see it every time.”

Laila looked away.

“And I know you don’t wanna make it worse by pushing back. You don’t wanna start nothin’. You just wanna hand Kori off, keep the peace, and come home. But that man don’t know what peace is. He don’t want it. He wants control.And every time you don’t respond, every time you brush it off—he thinks he’s still got it.”

The words hit harder than they should’ve. Because they were true. And hearing them out loud hurt like hell.

Laila blinked, trying to clear the sting in her eyes.

“I just… I hate that this is our reality,” she whispered. “That I even have to see him. That I can’t just move on without dragging that shadow behind me.”

Erik reached for her hand. Held it tight.

“You’re not dragging anything,” he said. “You survived something. And now you’re rebuilding. And that little girl? She’s light, Laila. She’s yours. She’s mine. She’s not his tool.”

Her lip trembled. She bit it hard.

“I feel like I’m always bracing for the next comment. The next jab. He don’t want me, E. He just wants to remind me he could’ve had me still if I didn’t grow up. If I didn’t choose better.”

“You did choose better,” Erik said quietly. “You chose me.”

Laila swallowed.

“And I ain’t never gonna make you regret that.”

By the time they pulled into the driveway, dusk had started to paint the sky in warm streaks of honey and smoke. Erik cut the engine, but didn’t move.

Laila sat still too, hands still locked in his.

“I don’t want you to be the one always fighting my old battles,” she said softly.

“I’m not.”

She looked at him.

“I’m fighting ours.”

Inside, the house was too quiet.

Kori wasn’t there to fill the space with questions and cartoon theme songs. It was just the two of them now, and the tension had nowhere else to go.

Laila kicked off her shoes, dropped her purse on the kitchen counter, and stood in the middle of the floor like she forgot how her own home worked.

Erik came up behind her slow. Wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her against his chest.

Her body melted into his like muscle memory.

“I hate how small he still makes me feel,” she whispered.

Erik kissed the back of her neck. “Then let me remind you who the fuck you are.”

She turned in his arms, eyes glassy, lips parted.

“I’m not asking you to fix it.”

“I’m not trying to.”

“What are you doing then?”

“Loving you through it.”

That was all it took.

The first tear slipped before she could stop it. And Erik was already there — thumb brushing it away, lips on her temple, arms wrapping tighter like he could absorb the pain through contact.

She buried her face in his chest, and for the first time all day, exhaled like she meant it.

The bedroom was dim. Just the last burn of golden-hour light slipping through the blinds and kissing the bedspread like a secret. The kind of light that made skin look like silk and made shadows stretch longer than they should.

Laila sat on the edge of the bed, shoulders low, sweater half-off one shoulder, like even her clothes were tired.

Erik stood in front of her.

He didn’t say anything at first. Just looked at her—really looked. The kind of look a man gives when he’s trying to memorize the moment before he breaks it open. His chest rose slow, steady, like he was holding back everything that wanted to spill out.

“You still with me, Sunshine?” he asked, voice low.

Laila nodded. “Barely.”

He stepped forward. “Then let me carry the rest.”

His hands moved to her sweater. Not rushed. Not greedy. Just… present. He peeled it over her shoulders like it was something sacred, like she might break if he moved too fast.

And she did break—a little.

Right there under the weight of his touch. Under the silence. Under the way he was still standing when everyone else would’ve backed off.

“I feel like I’m made of glass today,” she whispered.

Erik leaned down, kissed her forehead, then her cheek, then her collarbone. “Then I’ll be soft with you.”

He sank to his knees in front of her, palms resting on her thighs.

“You been strong all day,” he murmured, “so now you let me be the strong one.”

Laila’s breath caught. Her hand found the back of his neck, fingers slipping into the tight coils there.

“E…”

“I got you,” he said against her skin. “Always.”

Erik kisses down her stomach slowly, his lips tracing a path of fire, each touch deliberate and possessive. His fingers hook into her waistband, a gentle but firm grip as he eases her pants and underwear down in one fluid motion, revealing her completely. She lifts her hips, offering silent permission, her body already responding to his touch, her breath hitching in anticipation. He spreads her thighs, his hands warm and sure, his touch a promise of pleasure to come. He kisses the inside of one knee, a soft, lingering press of his lips, a tease, a promise. Then he moves to the other, his lips just as gentle, just as possessive. And then, with a reverence that leaves her breathless, he buries his face between her thighs, his tongue exploring, tasting, worshiping, as if she is the most precious thing in the world.

Laila gasped, back arching off the bed.

He didn’t rush. He didn’t tease.

He just loved her through it—with his mouth, his hands, his voice humming against her until her thighs shook and her fingers clawed into his shoulders.

Erik holds her down gently, his strong hands firm but tender, anchoring her as she tries to pull away, her body overwhelmed, trembling with the intensity of her pleasure. He presses deeper, his tongue moving with a deliberate, slow rhythm, licking her through the comedown, drawing out waves of sensation that leave her gasping, shuddering. His voice is a low, soothing murmur against her most intimate place, a promise, a comfort. “You’re safe, Sunshine. Let go. I got you.” His words are a balm, a reminder that she is cherished, protected, loved, even in the midst of her vulnerability, her surrender.

She came twice before he even took his shirt off.

When he finally stood, his eyes were glassy too. But not from emotion—from restraint.

“I ain’t done,” he told her.

“You don’t have to—”

“I need to.”

He stripped for her slowly, letting her see the weight he carried in his body, in his presence. His dick was already hard, thick and heavy, bobbing slightly as he stepped out of his boxers. But he didn’t make a move until she reached for him.

That touch—her touch—snapped the last thread of his control.

Erik lays her down gently, his movements careful and reverent, as if she were the most precious thing in the world. He slides in slow, his dick filling her inch by inch, a deliberate, possessive invasion that leaves them both breathless. Her gasp is soft and broken. His is deep and reverent, a sound of awe. He holds her face in his hands, his thumbs brushing gently against her cheeks, his eyes locked with hers as he begins to stroke in, his hips moving with a slow, deliberate rhythm. His voice is a low, intense whisper, a promise. “I love you. I love you. I got you.” Each word is a caress, a promise, a truth that needs no further explanation, no further elaboration.

Laila’s legs wrapped around him like instinct. Her hands cupped his jaw. Her eyes stayed locked to his like she was trying to see the exact moment his soul cracked open.

 He fucks her deep, slow, steady. Every stroke a message. Every kiss a promise. He talks to her between thrusts—low, raspy, affirming

“You’re not his mistake. You’re my miracle.”

“You gave life. Let me give you something.”

“You mine, Sunshine. Say it.”

She did.

Over and over, between moans and sobs and yes, yes, yes.

When they finally shattered together, it was quiet. Like the air had paused to listen.

Like the world understood that something holy had just happened.

They didn’t move for a long time.

Erik stayed inside her, forehead resting against hers, hand pressed to the space between her ribs.

“Still made of glass?” he murmured.

“No,” Laila whispered, eyes closed.

“You feel whole again?”

“I feel held.”

He kissed her, soft and long. “That’s all I ever want for you.”

The bedroom smelled like honey and heat. Her perfume still clung to the sheets, but underneath it—him. His skin, his sweat, the burn of cinnamon and cedar he wore like armor and home at once.

Laila lay draped across Erik’s chest, her fingers tracing lazy, absentminded patterns along the tattoos inked down his ribs. He hadn’t pulled out yet. Didn’t want to. She hadn’t asked him to.

It was quiet. Safe. The first time all day she hadn’t been bracing for something.

Erik’s thumb stroked her back, slow and aimless, like he didn’t want to break the silence either.

“You ever think about running?” she asked, voice muffled by his chest.

He blinked down at her. “From what?”

“Everything.”

He gave it a beat. Then shook his head. “Not once.”

“Not even when you found out I had a daughter?”

Erik didn’t answer right away. He just let the question sit there, heavy but honest.

Then: “Sunshine… when I saw Kori sitting on that floor the first night I came over? Holding that busted-ass Barbie and smiling like she ain’t know what broken looked like?” He exhaled. “That was it for me.”

Laila’s throat tightened.

“She called me ‘the man from the pancakes’ the next morning,” she whispered, a small laugh breaking the tension. “Like I was supposed to know what that meant.”

“You did,” Erik murmured. “You always knew.”

Laila shifted slightly, resting her chin on his chest now, eyes searching his.

“Why do you love us the way you do?”

He didn’t blink.

“‘Cause you’re mine.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s everything.”

He smoothed a hand over her curls, gaze soft.

“You didn’t need saving. But I needed purpose. And you—you and that baby girl—you gave me somewhere to put the love I’ve been carrying too long with no place to pour it.”

Laila pressed a kiss to his chest, slow and silent.

“I worry sometimes,” she whispered. “That he’s gonna do something stupid. Try to mess with custody. Try to drag us into some court drama. Use her to hurt me again.”

“If he does,” Erik said, voice steel wrapped in velvet, “he gon’ learn what happens when you come for what I love.”

Laila smiled. “You always this dramatic?”

He grinned. “You always this worth it?”

They stayed like that a while longer. Quiet. Twined together like the bones in a shared body.

Then she sat up slightly, pressing a kiss to his jaw.

“You wanna know something wild?”

“Always.”

“I had a dream last week that you were carrying Kori on your shoulders through a crowd. And I couldn’t see either of y’all. But I could hear you—laughing. Like belly-deep laughing. And I remember thinking… ‘She’s safe.’ Like… even in the dream, I knew.”

Erik didn’t respond at first. Just pulled her down into his arms again, pressing her close.

“I’m not her father by blood,” he said quietly. “But I’ll be what he never was.”

Laila closed her eyes.

“You already are.”

Outside, the streetlights buzzed on one by one. The world kept moving. But inside that room, inside that bed, inside that man’s arms—Laila and Kori had everything they needed.

A love that stood in front of the storm.

A man who chose them both.

And a future being built, not borrowed.

 @blyffe @transparentphantomface @mwahkae  @championshipshade @christinabae @og-goddesstrill @writingsbytee

[midnightmemoirsofher]

For My Girls

Pairing: Erik “Killmonger” Stevens × Laila “Sunshine” Greene (Black!OC)

Featuring: Baby Kori, toxic baby daddy drama, a protective man who loves out loud

Summary: Laila’s built a quiet life for her daughter, Kori — and Erik has been her peace through every storm. But peace don’t mean silence, and when her ex continues using co-parenting as a way to disrespect her and disrupt their relationship, Erik has one response: step in and stay ready.

He’s not jealous. He’s not insecure. He’s just done watching the woman he loves shrink herself for the sake of someone who never deserved her. And when Dre pushes too far, Erik reminds Laila exactly who she chose — and why he’s not going anywhere.

Warnings: Co-parenting with a toxic ex, emotional tension, light verbal threats (from Erik to baby daddy), cursing, creampie, deep emotional bonding, soft crying during sex, mentions of past emotional abuse, protective themes, found family, soft aftercare.

The smell of brown sugar and cinnamon drifted through the kitchen like gospel. Soft and slow, just like the playlist spilling from the Bluetooth speaker tucked behind the spice rack. SZA humming over Al Green, some old-school beat Erik didn’t even bother to skip. He was busy flipping pancakes with one hand, pouring Kori’s juice with the other, and humming like he didn’t have a single enemy in the world.

But Laila knew better. She always did.

She leaned in the doorway, robe tied low on her hips, coffee warming her palms. Her curls were still a mess, face bare, lips full and untouched by gloss or morning kisses — but Erik’s eyes still dragged over her like sin.

“Staring,” she muttered into her mug.

“Admiring,” he corrected, flipping the pancake like he’d done it a hundred times.

“You only cook when you tryin’ to distract yourself.”

“I cook when I wanna feed my family.”

Laila arched a brow. “And when you’re trying to keep from cussing somebody out?”

Erik didn’t answer.

He didn’t have to.

Kori giggled from her booster seat at the island, little hands smacking the tray while her baby curls bounced. “I want nanners in mine!”

“You already got ‘em, pumpkin,” Erik said, grabbing a fork and sliding a fresh slice onto her plate. “Daddy E hooked you up.”

“Thank you, Daddy E,” she sang out, syrup already smeared across her cheeks.

Laila’s heart pinched. Soft. Sharp. That complicated middle ground.

She moved to wipe Kori’s face, but Erik beat her to it, crouching with a paper towel and pressing a kiss to the girl’s sticky temple.

“Messy little queen,” he said, voice dipped in reverence. “You gon’ run the world one day, huh?”

Kori nodded, proud and sugar-high. “Like Mommy.”

Erik looked up, and his gaze found Laila’s again — softer this time. Full.

That was the thing about him. He didn’t just love loudly; he loved all the way through. No halfway, no parts of her, no conditions. When Erik Stevens showed up, he stayed. And when he claimed you, he didn’t flinch at what came with you — even when that part had a last name he wanted to erase from the planet.

Kori’s last name. Dre’s name.

The name that still sat on her birth certificate like a damn bruise.

Laila swallowed hard and stepped back toward the hallway. “I’m gonna go change.”

“You sure you up for today?” Erik called after her. “We can switch it up. He don’t gotta see you.”

Laila paused. Fingers clenched around the coffee mug tighter than they needed to be.

“I’m good,” she lied.

Erik’s jaw ticked, but he nodded once. “I’ll drive.”

Of course he would. He always did.

Laila took her time dressing, not because she was trying to look good, but because she didn’t want to think too long about what today meant. Every drop-off was the same: tension bubbling just under the surface, Dre trying to twist the knife with slick comments and hollow charm. He didn’t want her back — not really. He just hated that she moved on without lookin’ back.

And he especially hated Erik.

She smoothed her jeans, tugged her sweater down, and slipped on her gold hoops — the ones Erik liked. He called them her “quiet armor.”

By the time she came back down, Kori had syrup in her curls and Erik had her wrapped in a towel, swaying to the music while he cleaned her up like it was second nature. Like he’d been hers since the beginning.

Laila just stood there, quiet.

Watching the man she loved, holding the daughter she made without him, and loving them both like they were stitched from the same bone.

He glanced up. “You good, Sunshine?”

She nodded. “You sure you wanna come?”

His brow lifted.

“Let me say that again,” she backtracked. “You sure you wanna deal with his mouth?”

Erik didn’t blink.

“I deal with worse in my sleep. He don’t scare me.”

“I’m not worried about him scaring you. I’m worried about you… reacting.”

“I always react,” he said simply. “But only when it’s called for.”

He pulled the towel off Kori’s curls and kissed her forehead. “Go get your jacket, shorty. We got a mission.”

Kori squealed and ran off.

Laila turned to Erik, voice quiet. “You know he’s gonna hate seeing you again.”

“I hope he does.”

“That’s not helpful.”

“It ain’t supposed to be.”

He stepped closer, hands sliding to her waist. She smelled like warmth and sleep and that cocoa butter he kept stealing off her shelf.

“Far as I’m concerned, he can hate me all he wants — long as he knows you ain’t his to bother no more. Neither of y’all are.”

Laila exhaled. “You know I don’t need saving, right?”

Erik kissed her, slow and soft, just once. “I know. But I’m still gonna do it anyway.”

The ride was quiet.

Not the strained kind, but the kind where the tension sat in the cupholders and the rearview mirror, taking up more space than Kori’s car seat.

The soft hum of the radio played beneath Kori’s tiny voice in the back, singing off-key to a commercial jingle like she was headlining a stadium tour. Laila half-smiled and adjusted her sunglasses, trying to shake the weight pressing down on her shoulders.

Erik drove one-handed, the other resting casually on Laila’s thigh. Not rubbing, not squeezing—just there. Solid. Warm. Present.

“I should’ve picked a different sweater,” she murmured after a few blocks.

Erik didn’t take his eyes off the road. “You look fine, Sunshine.”

“It’s tight.”

“Still fine.”

She sighed. “It’s just—I don’t want him thinking I’m dressed for him.”

Now Erik did look over, slow and calm. “Ain’t nobody thinkin’ that but you.”

His tone wasn’t sharp, but it cut just the same.

Laila didn’t argue. She just looked out the window, watched the way the sunlight curved around the edges of passing trees. The street signs started to feel familiar, like unwelcome memories clawing back up her spine.

When they turned into the old gas station lot—neutral ground, public and unavoidable—Kori squealed, “Daddy car!”

Erik’s hand tightened just slightly on the wheel.

The silver Dodge Charger sat crooked in the lot like it owned the place. The windows were tinted too dark, the music too loud. Same as always. And just like always, Dre stepped out dressed like he was late to a photoshoot nobody asked for—gold chain, designer belt, and the same cocky little smirk that never reached his eyes.

Laila turned to check on Kori, but Erik was already climbing out.

“E—” she started.

“I got it.”

The door shut behind him before she could finish the sentence.

Erik stood tall beside the car, arms folded, expression unreadable.

Dre clocked him with a grin. “Aw, hell. Thought I might get a break this time.”

“You didn’t.”

Dre rolled his neck, cracking his knuckles like he was bored. “You ain’t tired of playin’ stepdaddy yet?”

“I ain’t playin’ at all,” Erik said evenly.

Laila stepped out with Kori just in time to hear it. She kept her daughter close, letting the toddler walk while she held her hand.

Dre’s eyes dragged over Laila for a second too long.

“That the sweater I bought you?”

Laila didn’t answer.

Erik took a step forward.

Dre grinned. “I’m just askin’. Damn. Can’t compliment the mother of my child?”

“Watch your mouth,” Erik said.

“I ain’t say nothin’ disrespectful—”

“You breathed. That was enough.”

Laila’s pulse jumped. “Okay, that’s enough—Kori, baby, go give your daddy a hug.”

Kori jogged up and wrapped her little arms around Dre’s leg. He bent down, scooped her up, and kissed her cheek.

“Hey, babygirl. You been good?”

“She made pancakes with Daddy E!” Kori beamed.

Dre’s smile cracked for half a second. “Did she now?”

“Yup. And we watched Moana and he braided my dolly’s hair.”

Erik didn’t flinch. Just stood there, jaw set, letting Kori speak freely.

Dre kissed her again and set her in the car seat in the back of his car. Then he straightened and turned to Laila with that smug little lean in his stance.

“You let her call him that now? ‘Daddy E?’ You cool with that?”

Laila held his stare. “I’m cool with her being loved.”

Dre scoffed. “You cool with him tryna replace me?”

“Nobody’s trying to replace you,” she said, voice tight. “But you damn sure ain’t about to disrespect the man who shows up for her every day.”

Erik stepped in. Voice low. Dead calm.

“You ever use Kori to come at her mama again, I’ll make sure you regret it. You hear me?”

Dre laughed like it didn’t rattle him, but his eyes said otherwise. “She still yours? Or you just babysittin’ what I left behind?”

That was it.

Erik moved so fast Dre didn’t flinch in time. One step, chest to chest. No raised voice. No threats. Just that quiet violence in his stare.

“She ain’t yours. Not anymore. Not her, and sure as hell not Laila. So if you wanna keep showing up here walking and breathing, you better act like you got some sense in front of both of ‘em.”

“E,” Laila warned softly.

He didn’t move. Just stared.

Dre took a step back, mouth twisting like he wanted to spit words that wouldn’t come.

Erik finally turned. Walked back to the car. Opened the door for Laila like nothing happened.

She slid in silently, heart hammering. When the door shut and Erik started the engine, she didn’t look at him.

But her voice was small. Shaky.

“Thank you.”

Erik stared ahead. “You don’t ever have to thank me for protecting what’s mine.”

The ride back was even quieter than the ride there.

Not peaceful.

Heavy.

Like the weight of everything unsaid was pressing down on the roof of the car, threatening to cave it in.

Laila stared out the window again, this time not watching anything in particular. Just letting the blur of storefronts and streetlights smear into her vision like watercolors left in the rain. Her fingers twisted in her lap. Her jaw clenched. She hadn’t even taken off her sunglasses, even though the sun was slipping lower.

Erik’s hand rested on the gear shift. Knuckles tight. He didn’t say a word. He hadn’t since the gas station.

But she could feel it. The restraint. The rage folded into that calm like a grenade in velvet.

“E…” she started, voice low.

He didn’t look over.

“You know you can’t do that every time.”

“Do what?” His voice was flat. Controlled. A whisper of smoke under pressure.

“Step in like that. You can’t let him get under your skin.”

“He don’t get under my skin,” Erik said, still not looking at her. “He disrespects you. And I don’t tolerate that. Not from him. Not from anybody.”

Laila sighed, head tipping back against the seat. “But you can’t just… threaten him.”

“I didn’t threaten him.”

She looked over, sunglasses finally sliding down her nose. “Erik—”

“I warned him. That’s different.”

She didn’t respond. Just stared, lips pressing into a thin line.

Erik finally glanced over, eyes unreadable.

“You mad at me?”

“No.”

“Disappointed?”

She hesitated.

“…Scared.”

That word sat between them like broken glass. Erik’s hand flexed once. Then again.

“You scared of me?” he asked, voice suddenly fragile.

Laila turned toward him fully, sliding her glasses off.

“No,” she said firmly. “Never you. I’m scared of what happens if he pushes you far enough to do something you can’t come back from.”

Erik’s jaw worked. A beat passed. Then two.

“Sunshine…” His voice cracked just slightly. “He uses that little girl to come for you. To twist you up. I see it every time.”

Laila looked away.

“And I know you don’t wanna make it worse by pushing back. You don’t wanna start nothin’. You just wanna hand Kori off, keep the peace, and come home. But that man don’t know what peace is. He don’t want it. He wants control.And every time you don’t respond, every time you brush it off—he thinks he’s still got it.”

The words hit harder than they should’ve. Because they were true. And hearing them out loud hurt like hell.

Laila blinked, trying to clear the sting in her eyes.

“I just… I hate that this is our reality,” she whispered. “That I even have to see him. That I can’t just move on without dragging that shadow behind me.”

Erik reached for her hand. Held it tight.

“You’re not dragging anything,” he said. “You survived something. And now you’re rebuilding. And that little girl? She’s light, Laila. She’s yours. She’s mine. She’s not his tool.”

Her lip trembled. She bit it hard.

“I feel like I’m always bracing for the next comment. The next jab. He don’t want me, E. He just wants to remind me he could’ve had me still if I didn’t grow up. If I didn’t choose better.”

“You did choose better,” Erik said quietly. “You chose me.”

Laila swallowed.

“And I ain’t never gonna make you regret that.”

By the time they pulled into the driveway, dusk had started to paint the sky in warm streaks of honey and smoke. Erik cut the engine, but didn’t move.

Laila sat still too, hands still locked in his.

“I don’t want you to be the one always fighting my old battles,” she said softly.

“I’m not.”

She looked at him.

“I’m fighting ours.”

Inside, the house was too quiet.

Kori wasn’t there to fill the space with questions and cartoon theme songs. It was just the two of them now, and the tension had nowhere else to go.

Laila kicked off her shoes, dropped her purse on the kitchen counter, and stood in the middle of the floor like she forgot how her own home worked.

Erik came up behind her slow. Wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her against his chest.

Her body melted into his like muscle memory.

“I hate how small he still makes me feel,” she whispered.

Erik kissed the back of her neck. “Then let me remind you who the fuck you are.”

She turned in his arms, eyes glassy, lips parted.

“I’m not asking you to fix it.”

“I’m not trying to.”

“What are you doing then?”

“Loving you through it.”

That was all it took.

The first tear slipped before she could stop it. And Erik was already there — thumb brushing it away, lips on her temple, arms wrapping tighter like he could absorb the pain through contact.

She buried her face in his chest, and for the first time all day, exhaled like she meant it.

The bedroom was dim. Just the last burn of golden-hour light slipping through the blinds and kissing the bedspread like a secret. The kind of light that made skin look like silk and made shadows stretch longer than they should.

Laila sat on the edge of the bed, shoulders low, sweater half-off one shoulder, like even her clothes were tired.

Erik stood in front of her.

He didn’t say anything at first. Just looked at her—really looked. The kind of look a man gives when he’s trying to memorize the moment before he breaks it open. His chest rose slow, steady, like he was holding back everything that wanted to spill out.

“You still with me, Sunshine?” he asked, voice low.

Laila nodded. “Barely.”

He stepped forward. “Then let me carry the rest.”

His hands moved to her sweater. Not rushed. Not greedy. Just… present. He peeled it over her shoulders like it was something sacred, like she might break if he moved too fast.

And she did break—a little.

Right there under the weight of his touch. Under the silence. Under the way he was still standing when everyone else would’ve backed off.

“I feel like I’m made of glass today,” she whispered.

Erik leaned down, kissed her forehead, then her cheek, then her collarbone. “Then I’ll be soft with you.”

He sank to his knees in front of her, palms resting on her thighs.

“You been strong all day,” he murmured, “so now you let me be the strong one.”

Laila’s breath caught. Her hand found the back of his neck, fingers slipping into the tight coils there.

“E…”

“I got you,” he said against her skin. “Always.”

Erik kisses down her stomach slowly, his lips tracing a path of fire, each touch deliberate and possessive. His fingers hook into her waistband, a gentle but firm grip as he eases her pants and underwear down in one fluid motion, revealing her completely. She lifts her hips, offering silent permission, her body already responding to his touch, her breath hitching in anticipation. He spreads her thighs, his hands warm and sure, his touch a promise of pleasure to come. He kisses the inside of one knee, a soft, lingering press of his lips, a tease, a promise. Then he moves to the other, his lips just as gentle, just as possessive. And then, with a reverence that leaves her breathless, he buries his face between her thighs, his tongue exploring, tasting, worshiping, as if she is the most precious thing in the world.

Laila gasped, back arching off the bed.

He didn’t rush. He didn’t tease.

He just loved her through it—with his mouth, his hands, his voice humming against her until her thighs shook and her fingers clawed into his shoulders.

Erik holds her down gently, his strong hands firm but tender, anchoring her as she tries to pull away, her body overwhelmed, trembling with the intensity of her pleasure. He presses deeper, his tongue moving with a deliberate, slow rhythm, licking her through the comedown, drawing out waves of sensation that leave her gasping, shuddering. His voice is a low, soothing murmur against her most intimate place, a promise, a comfort. “You’re safe, Sunshine. Let go. I got you.” His words are a balm, a reminder that she is cherished, protected, loved, even in the midst of her vulnerability, her surrender.

She came twice before he even took his shirt off.

When he finally stood, his eyes were glassy too. But not from emotion—from restraint.

“I ain’t done,” he told her.

“You don’t have to—”

“I need to.”

He stripped for her slowly, letting her see the weight he carried in his body, in his presence. His dick was already hard, thick and heavy, bobbing slightly as he stepped out of his boxers. But he didn’t make a move until she reached for him.

That touch—her touch—snapped the last thread of his control.

Erik lays her down gently, his movements careful and reverent, as if she were the most precious thing in the world. He slides in slow, his dick filling her inch by inch, a deliberate, possessive invasion that leaves them both breathless. Her gasp is soft and broken. His is deep and reverent, a sound of awe. He holds her face in his hands, his thumbs brushing gently against her cheeks, his eyes locked with hers as he begins to stroke in, his hips moving with a slow, deliberate rhythm. His voice is a low, intense whisper, a promise. “I love you. I love you. I got you.” Each word is a caress, a promise, a truth that needs no further explanation, no further elaboration.

Laila’s legs wrapped around him like instinct. Her hands cupped his jaw. Her eyes stayed locked to his like she was trying to see the exact moment his soul cracked open.

 He fucks her deep, slow, steady. Every stroke a message. Every kiss a promise. He talks to her between thrusts—low, raspy, affirming

“You’re not his mistake. You’re my miracle.”

“You gave life. Let me give you something.”

“You mine, Sunshine. Say it.”

She did.

Over and over, between moans and sobs and yes, yes, yes.

When they finally shattered together, it was quiet. Like the air had paused to listen.

Like the world understood that something holy had just happened.

They didn’t move for a long time.

Erik stayed inside her, forehead resting against hers, hand pressed to the space between her ribs.

“Still made of glass?” he murmured.

“No,” Laila whispered, eyes closed.

“You feel whole again?”

“I feel held.”

He kissed her, soft and long. “That’s all I ever want for you.”

The bedroom smelled like honey and heat. Her perfume still clung to the sheets, but underneath it—him. His skin, his sweat, the burn of cinnamon and cedar he wore like armor and home at once.

Laila lay draped across Erik’s chest, her fingers tracing lazy, absentminded patterns along the tattoos inked down his ribs. He hadn’t pulled out yet. Didn’t want to. She hadn’t asked him to.

It was quiet. Safe. The first time all day she hadn’t been bracing for something.

Erik’s thumb stroked her back, slow and aimless, like he didn’t want to break the silence either.

“You ever think about running?” she asked, voice muffled by his chest.

He blinked down at her. “From what?”

“Everything.”

He gave it a beat. Then shook his head. “Not once.”

“Not even when you found out I had a daughter?”

Erik didn’t answer right away. He just let the question sit there, heavy but honest.

Then: “Sunshine… when I saw Kori sitting on that floor the first night I came over? Holding that busted-ass Barbie and smiling like she ain’t know what broken looked like?” He exhaled. “That was it for me.”

Laila’s throat tightened.

“She called me ‘the man from the pancakes’ the next morning,” she whispered, a small laugh breaking the tension. “Like I was supposed to know what that meant.”

“You did,” Erik murmured. “You always knew.”

Laila shifted slightly, resting her chin on his chest now, eyes searching his.

“Why do you love us the way you do?”

He didn’t blink.

“‘Cause you’re mine.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s everything.”

He smoothed a hand over her curls, gaze soft.

“You didn’t need saving. But I needed purpose. And you—you and that baby girl—you gave me somewhere to put the love I’ve been carrying too long with no place to pour it.”

Laila pressed a kiss to his chest, slow and silent.

“I worry sometimes,” she whispered. “That he’s gonna do something stupid. Try to mess with custody. Try to drag us into some court drama. Use her to hurt me again.”

“If he does,” Erik said, voice steel wrapped in velvet, “he gon’ learn what happens when you come for what I love.”

Laila smiled. “You always this dramatic?”

He grinned. “You always this worth it?”

They stayed like that a while longer. Quiet. Twined together like the bones in a shared body.

Then she sat up slightly, pressing a kiss to his jaw.

“You wanna know something wild?”

“Always.”

“I had a dream last week that you were carrying Kori on your shoulders through a crowd. And I couldn’t see either of y’all. But I could hear you—laughing. Like belly-deep laughing. And I remember thinking… ‘She’s safe.’ Like… even in the dream, I knew.”

Erik didn’t respond at first. Just pulled her down into his arms again, pressing her close.

“I’m not her father by blood,” he said quietly. “But I’ll be what he never was.”

Laila closed her eyes.

“You already are.”

Outside, the streetlights buzzed on one by one. The world kept moving. But inside that room, inside that bed, inside that man’s arms—Laila and Kori had everything they needed.

A love that stood in front of the storm.

A man who chose them both.

And a future being built, not borrowed.

 @blyffe @transparentphantomface @mwahkae  @championshipshade @christinabae @og-goddesstrill @writingsbytee

[trippinsorrows]

with me + part eight

authors note: wow, you guys just keep on amazing me. all of the kind comments really do make my day, you have no idea. the beginning of this one is heavy, but i'm gradually working towards exposing more of reader and joe's backstories!!!

song inspo: with me by destiny's child

status: in progress // masterlist

warnings: angst (parental neglect, abandonment) language, suggestive themes

words: 6k

taglist: @pixiedust4000 @southerngirl41 @yolobloggers @msbigredmachine @wanderingreigns

“It’s been almost a year, babe.” His tone is the perfect combination of understanding yet frustrated, like he’s trying his best to be patient but his needs are getting the best of him. “You still not ready?”

You wanted someone to talk to for the drive, even if it was only an hour, but at this moment, you’re regretting choosing your boyfriend.

“I just….I want to be really sure, okay?” 

This has been the latest conversation between the two of you, more a point of contention. You care about Amir, you love him, but there’s something about letting him take your virginity you’re still a bit unsure about. Maybe it’s the fact that you just turned 16 three months ago and still feel like you’re a bit on the young side to take that next step. Or maybe it’s the fact that you guys have been rocky, almost since the beginning, having your fair share of arguments, even makeups and breakups. 

But, you also know that even with the ups and downs, a year deep for a high school relationship is almost unheard of. That has to mean something.

“I love you, and you love me, right?”

You check the rearview mirror and switch lanes. “Of course.”

“So let’s seal the deal.”

A glance at the navigation makes you aware that you’re roughly ten minutes away from your destination. Instantly, your stomach begins to twist and knot. And like many with anxiety, it comes out as anger.

“Look, can you please just stop pressuring me?” You snap. “I feel like that’s all you ever want to talk about.”

“Whoa, whoa, where’s all this attitude coming from?” He, understandably, becomes defensive. A small part of you feels bad, taking your nerves out on him, even if it’s not entirely undeserved. It has become an annoying, frequent hot topic. “Am I wrong for wanting to be close to my girlfriend?”

“Bullshit. You just want to get your dick wet.” 

“If that was the case, I wouldn’t be asking you,” he retorts, arrogantly. “I can get pussy anywhere.”

That’s the wrong thing to say, obviously, because you angrily fire back, “fine, then go do that and leave me and my pussy alone!”

He sucks his teeth on the other side. “I’ll talk to you when you not in one of your bitch moods. Must be on your period or something.”

“Fuck you, Amir.”

The phone disconnects.

He hung up.

Frustrated, for a lot of reasons, you squeeze the steering wheel and curse, loudly. This isn’t what you needed. You’re regretting not calling Mariah instead. You’re starting to regret this decision altogether but work to remind yourself why you’re doing it, why you want to do it. Amir and his shit be damned. He’ll always be there, and you’ll figure the shit out, like you always do. 

Right now though, you need to focus on yourself and your plan. 

So, you spend the rest of your time driving by feeding positive mantras into yourself in an attempt to bleed out the negativity. 

It’s especially needed when you finally arrive at your destination, parking your car as far back in the parking lot as you can. You blow out a big, deep breath, keeping your hands on the steering wheel as it really sets in that you’re doing this, finally doing something you’ve wanted since you got your license but have been too scared to follow through on. 

It’s going to be a daunting task no matter what, but it’s what you want, and you’ve come too far to back out now. 

Shaky hands reach to pull down the sun visor so you can use the mirror to assess your makeup and hair. You’d saved up your paychecks to afford this 14k gold necklace the local jeweler had gotten in stock and kindly agreed to hold until you could afford it. You just wanted to look your best.

You needed to look your best.

Blowing out another breath, you reach to spray another layer of your trial size perfume. It was some expensive ass designer fragrance that smelled sinfully sweet, but the trial one was all you could afford. 

Climbing out of the car with your best bag, you make sure to lock the door and start heading toward the entrance, offering a few small smiles to the cops you pass by.

Stepping into the precent, you march right up to the front desk with your head held high.

“Hi,” you breathe, pasting on that rehearsed smile. “I—umm, is Captain Wilson available?”

“Uhhhh.” She stands up and looks back, most likely where his office is. “I believe so, can I ask what this is in regards to?”

Crap. You hadn’t thought about what to say, how to explain how you knew him. Quickly, you settle on, “old family friend.”

She assesses you, probably wondering why their police captain is family friends with a high schooler.

Thankfully, she nods and moves from behind the desk to escort you. “Follow me.” 

You’re briefly relieved that the first part is done, far from the hardest but necessary for you to actually get to the hard part. 

She knocks on the open door. “Captain?”

He looks up, and your stomach drops. 

Years.

It’s been years since you’ve seen him, been this close in proximity. He’s older, obviously, but still very similar to how you remembered him all those years ago. He looks at you for a second, clearly confused and then at the woman.

“She said she’s a family friend.”

Nervous that this will mess up your plan, you interrupt, “I—I need to speak with you, please.”

The woman turns to you. “I thought you said—”

He lifts his hand, standing up. “It’s fine, Yang.” He motions to the door. “Leave us.”

You can feel her distasteful expression on you, but she follows his command, closing the door behind you. 

“Well, how can I help you, young lady?”

It's such a loaded question, but you came prepared, ready to jump right to the point. Don't want to waste any time.

"I, well, I'm—" Chuckling, you reach into your bag and pull out the old picture of your mom you kept in your locker. Opening and showing it to him, you watch his entire facial expression shift from friendly to shocked. "I'm your—"

“What are you doing here?” There’s a sudden change in his tone, even in his body posture, less friendly, more hostile. Clearly, he recognizes you.

“I—” The answer is simple yet difficult to get out, but you manage. “I wanted to meet my father.”

He suddenly asks, accusingly. “Did your mother put you up to this?” 

“What?” Frowning, you explain, “no, no, she—she doesn’t even know I’m here. No one does.”

“Good,” he mutters. “Listen—”

“I’m 16 now,” you interject, suddenly remembering the list of things you wanted to share with him, wanted him to know about you. “And I’m—I’m captain of my school’s cheerleading squad. Took my team to state last year. I’ve had a couple of scouts from colleges reach out already.”

“Listen—”

“And I just got my SAT scores back. I got a 1400. A 32 on my ACT. That puts me in the top 10% of the nation for both of them.”

“Is there a reason you’re telling me all of this?”

“I thought—” This is going the complete opposite of how you planned, how you hoped. You expected him to be confused and surprised, but you didn’t expect this level of disinterest and aggravation. Like you’re annoying him. Like you’re bothering him. “I thought if—if you saw me, if you met me and see I’m not a bad kid that—that maybe you’d want a relationship with me.”

 “A relationship?” He scoffs, actually fucking scoffs. “Why would I want a relationship with you? You’re not even supposed to exist.”

Of all the things to say—cruel, hurtful, mean—you’re not sure just what to label this. Because it’s almost inconceivable to you that he could say such a thing while looking directly at you, as if you’re not his blood. As if you’re not his daughter.

“I—” Any hope or confidence you had is all but squashed underneath the weight of his cruelty. “I’m your daughter.”

“No, you are a mistake that I paid your mother to take care of.” He turns away, one hand on his hip, the other running his hand over his face. “Biggest waste of money I ever spent.”

Devastated. It’s the closest word you can use to describe what you’re feeling right now, all over, in every crevice of your body. You never knew a person could feel so much pain at one time. 

That a heart could feel so heavy.

“How—”

“Honey—”

Turning your head, you see a woman dressed in fine clothes, adorned in real, 14k or more jewelry, and a smile that doesn’t meet her eyes when she sees the Captain isn’t alone. “I’m sorry, am I interrupting something?”

You’re unsure how to answer, especially when you notice the big rock on her finger. It doesn’t take much to realize this must be his wife. The same woman he cheated on with your mother and unintentionally created you. 

“Not at all,” he answers with a chuckle. You watch with a twisted stomach as she walks over to him, kissing his cheek. He smiles at her with such adoration, such happiness, a complete contrast with the disgust and disdain he sent your way. “I was just telling this young lady there’s nothing we can do for her.”

Young lady. That’s all you are to him, and it was stupid of you to trick yourself into believing otherwise. If he could go sixteen years without once asking or inquiring about you, he could go another sixteen. Another 100. You weren’t a part of his world, didn’t exist there, and you never would.

“Dad, Elijah won’t get out of the car. I swear, you should have kept me an only—” Another person enters the room and also stops mid-sentence. “---child.” An identical set of brown eyes land on you, eyes that he has, that you have. The similarities don’t stop there. Nose, lips, even bone structure to some extent, age. “Oh, my bad. Dad, who’s—” 

You never give her the chance to finish or yourself the chance to hear the rest of her question. Rushing past her as well as the other cops in the precinct who surprisingly don’t try to stop you, you don’t allow your feet to rest until you’re in the safety of your car. 

And that’s when it finally comes out. 

The guttural, vulnerable scream that you’ve been holding in. You beat at the steering wheel, narrowly avoiding the horn. You beat at that thing until your wrist aches and fist grows tired. Nearly hyperventilating, the sob erupts from your throat, almost your entire body shaking from the intensity. You’ve never felt so awful in your life, so empty, so unwanted and unloved.

It’s the kind of pain that’s so visceral you can only understand if you’ve felt it, and no one deserves to feel this. 

Stupid.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

You feel it, and more, for bringing yourself down here and making a fool of yourself. 

A family. 

He has a whole family. He already has children, has a daughter who’s close in age. A daughter he loves and whose life he wants to be involved in. 

And it’s not you.

It’s never been you, and it’ll never be you.

Finally, you understand why your mom always shot down or redirected any attempt you made to ask about your dad. It was for this reason. This is what she was trying to protect you from, and you idiotically ran right into the line of fire. 

Immensely grateful you had the wherewithal to park as far back as you could, you sit there for who knows how long, screaming, crying, heartbroken, avoiding what’s sure to be the longest drive home of your life.

There’s such an intolerable level of discomfort at this, this pain, this hurt. You don’t want to feel it, don’t want to sit in it. You can’t. You’re not sure if you can continue to function in this state.

You need a distraction. 

And you have the perfect one. Whatever development has occurred in the prefrontal cortex is nonexistent and inactive as you dig in your purse for your phone. 

With shaky fingers, you send him a simple text, knowing he’ll know exactly what you mean.

Tonight. Let’s do it tonight. 

________

Three days after her emergency surgery, Calista was officially discharged from the hospital, allowing her to be home with you just in time for Thanksgiving. Not that that ended up being anything to write home about. You opted to stay home with her, aiding in her recovery as your mom came over to drop off some food and assist in nursing your sweet little girl back to health.

It was much appreciated, especially as Joe had to leave the day before she was released, much to his and Callie’s chagrin. She loved the company of you, even your mom, but she especially loved being around and with Joe.

Not that he was any different. You could see how much it killed him to have to leave her when she was still admitted in a hospital, so you had to continue to remind him that the hardest part was over. Ironic considering how grounded he kept you in that terrifying experience. 

Joe’s promise of returning for Christmas was the only thing that kept Callie slightly less disappointed. She loves Christmas, and him being there for her favorite holiday will definitely mean a lot to her. You know she just hates having to wait so long to see him again. It’s safe to say she’s pretty attached to him, which warms your heart and makes you even more eager for her to finally realize that Joe is not just Joe.

He’s her dad.

And speaking of daddy, your dynamic with Joe has been both different yet the same. There’s always been this chemistry between you two, but it seems him finally admitting he wants to be with you and your finally acknowledging that it's something you’re willing to consider has given him privilege to up the ante.

He’s always been forward with you, but it’s been subtle, if at all present, since his return.

That's no longer the case.

He makes his comments and innuendos, always appropriate and respectful enough to not warrant pushback. But, it’s still there. 

And you like it, way more than you should for someone who doesn’t even know how she feels about any of this to begin with. 

“I have an idea.”

Th comment comes from the very person who you summoned to help with said ambivalence chimes with that mischievous smile that almost got you both kicked out of school at least two times.

Alexis Palmer stands on the opposite side of the kitchen, a bottle of vodka in one hand and another unidentified alcoholic beverage in the other. To say you summoned her may be a bit of an exaggeration. You emailed her, yes, but you didn’t except her to actually fly across the world to come visit you. Apparently, she was in Norway when she received your email.

“You couldn’t not expect me to come. You sent out the bestie bat signal!”

The first time you met Alexis, you hated her. She was your assigned roommate who you had the displeasure of meeting during move in week. A large part of your disdain for her was because she represented everything you’d always found utterly annoying: rich, entitled, privileged.

You’d quickly find out that was only partially true. Yes, Alexis came from money, but that was essentially all she came from. You’ll never forget the time you two were actually having a decent conversation and she casually mentioned that neither of her parents had ever told her happy birthday before. Ever. 

Even your mom, though not having much, made sure to make the most of all of your special days.

That was the first day you started to see our roommate in a different light, and now, over ten years later, you consider her a best friend. If Alexis didn’t spend her life randomly traveling to various parts of the world, living comfortably off her trust fund money, you’d absolutely be much closer. 

But until, or if, she gets tired of always being on the go, you settle for email updates and countless snapchat messages because WIFI is a wonderfully universal thing when compared to international texting and call fees.

Alexis's partially drunk ass skips out of the kitchen, clearly going to retrieve something as you take a moment to check your phone. It took a moderate level of convincing for you to agree to Callie spending a day or two with your mom, not that you didn’t believe she wouldn’t be in the best care. It was just some lingering anxiety from your baby being hospitalized, that mother’s fear of something happening in your absence and you not being there to comfort her.  

But, your mom brought up a valid point, that you’d spend almost nonstop time with Callie since her discharge, and that was fine. You loved spending time with you little girl, but you also needed some time for yourself. Some adult interaction, and Alexis' surprise visit created the perfect opportunity. 

So, that brings you to your current scenario, having an in-house girl night with your college roommate, drinking wine (harder liquor for her) and figuring out just what the fuck you’re doing with your non-existent love life. 

When Alexis turns with one of your poster boards, you protest, “Lex, those are for my students.”

She gives you the most disgusted look. “Girl, fuck them kids. If it’s not my sweet Cal Gal, I don’t care.”

Knowing good and well this is a losing battle, you let it go and watch as she lays the poster board on the kitchen island and pulls out a sharpie.

“What are you—”

She lifts a finger, silencing you as she continues to write. Shaking your head, you take another sip of your wine. 

Alexis is done in a matter of a few minutes and finally prompts you to look. “Okay, all done.”

It’s in reading what she’s created that you nearly drop your wine glass. “Lex, what is this?”

She rolls her eyes, pointing with the sharpie to the title. “Obviously, it’s the ‘figure out who I should be with’ chart. Created by yours truly!”

You blink a couple times. “Alexis, why is Kai’s name up here? He was a high school hookup.”

“Yes, but still a hookup nonetheless, so he makes the cut.” Lord as much as you missed Alexis, you’d almost forgotten how draining her eccentric ways can be. “Now, as you can see, each option has a pros and cons column. I say we start with the pros, and I’ll even help you out.”

“Should I be scared?”

She pauses. “Maybe.”

Shaking your head, you wait for her to quickly jot down whatever she objectively believes is considered a pro. But, when she turns the poster around, you actually laugh. “Oh my god.”

She’s written only in Joe’s pro column, but it’s more what she has written that has you humored.

“Obviously, at number one, we have 'big dick' because that's the most important thing in life. Never commit to a micro-penis.”

Ignoring the latter part of her statement, you ask, “big dick? Really?” 

“Is it a lie?” She challenges. You open your mouth and immediately close it, taking another sip of wine. “I rest my case.” Yeah, you definitely can’t fight that one. “Wait, is he the one you tried anal with that one time?”

You nearly spit out your wine, for a couple of reasons. You'd never really considered yourself a feminist, but you were definitely someone who believed in women being free sexual beings. You never subscribed to that modesty bullshit. Sex was fun to you, and you liked it. You definitely considered yourself more on the freaky side. Outside of the really weird shit and threesomes, you were down to try whatever. Especially with Joe. Well, except for that. “Absolutely not. He’s too big. That shit already hurts, hence why it was one and done.”

Confused, she asks. “Who was it then?”

“Amir,” you answer, casually. Alexis, being Alexis, was pretty much the same as you when it came to embracing sexuality, hence speaking so openly about your sex lives.

She turns up her nose. “Yuck. Okay, back to Big Dick Joe.” After over 10+ years of friendship, you’ve learned, to some extent, certain things Alexis says just have to be chalked up to being a part of who she is. Like this entire activity that you’re for some reason entertaining. “Now get back to naming!”

You shrug, thinking about it, even if there’s not much to think about. “I mean, we have a child together already.”

“Oh damn, forgot about that,” she mutters and quickly adds Callie to the list of pros. “Sorry, Cal.”

This isn’t necessarily a difficult task. You’re pretty sure you could talk for 30 minutes straight about all of the reasons you like Joe. “He’s kind, smart, easy to talk to, an amazing dad to Callie.”

She downs the last of her concoction before shouting out, “oooh, don’t forget rich!”

Your eyes lift to the ceiling as you shrug, genuinely uninterested. “You know I don’t care about that.”

“You will when it’s time for Callie to go to college,” she ‘sings’, adding it to the board. “Fine as fuck,” Alexis talks aloud while writing the same thing. “Like very fine. As in you should have asked if his wife could fight fine because the way I never would have asked that man to leave—”

“Alexis.”

“Sorry.” She’s really not. “Why don’t we switch gears? How about we do the pros for Amir? Or even Kai?” You open your mouth to respond when she cuts you off. “Couldn’t think of any? Me neither. Back to Joe, it is.”

You run your hand against the side of your face, elbow on the section of the island that’s not occupied by the poster board. “Seriously, Alexis. There’s nothing there for Kai. At all. Hell, Amir neither.”

It’s like a light goes off, like all of her efforts have finally proved fruitful. The entirety of her eccentricity minimizes to something calm and considerate. “Exactly.” Laying down the poster, she comes and sits in the bar seat next to you. “You don’t like Amir. You definitely don’t like Kai. But, you do like Joe. Maybe more, though I’m not sure you’re ready to actually admit that out loud.” Much like a lot of what she says, though usually cloaked underneath her quirkiness, she’s correct. “So, what’s the real issue, roomie? It was his wife before, which I totally understood. You’re a moral person and shit. But now? He’s divorced, Y/N. You two have a child you’re trying to raise together. What’s holding you back?”

It’s a very, very valid question that you have no idea how to answer. You’ve tried, to some extent, to explore what your hesitations are. It hasn’t been high on the priority list due to your being focused on nursing Callie back to health, but as she’s on the mend to a full recovery, if not already at the eve of one, you know you’re gonna have to figure this shit out. Preferably sooner than later. 

Joe will respect your need for time and space, but you also know he can be a persistent bastard, especially when it’s something or someone he wants.

It’s how ya’ll even got together in the first place. 

“I’m gonna say something, and I don’t want you to bite my head off. Just hear me out. Let me put this expensive ass psych degree to use.” That makes you chuckle, but you remain quiet, allowing her to continue. “I think….I think whatever the situation is with your dad might be at play here.” Instantly, you're stiff, any hint of a smile or humor gone. “I don’t know exactly what happened outside of the fact that he’s not in your life, but something tells me there’s something there that you need to face.” And if she wasn’t already hitting you where it hurts, she adds on, “and I think it had something to do with why you didn’t tell Joe about Callie from the very beginning.” 

Alexis has always had this uncanny ability to make you wonder if there’s something possibly mentally wrong with her and in the same breath wonder why the hell she didn’t decide to pursue a higher degree in psychology because of her sage wisdom.

This is one of those moments.

You know there’s some element of truth to what she’s saying, some layers behind events you’d pushed so far back in your head, you tried to convince yourself they didn’t still impact you. 

But opening that box…..it’s hard for you to justify doing so. To understand why you need to revisit such uncomfortable, painful memories. You’re gonna be 32 years old next year. You’re too damn old to still be dealing with daddy issues.

Reaching for the bottle of wine, you pour some into your glass, noticeably more than the first one. “Maybe.” 

Alexis also knows you well enough to know that a dismissal was bound to be your approach to such a heavy topic. “Is that the sign to change subjects, even though that’s literally why you asked me to come?"

“Technically, you invited yourself.”

“Bullshit,” she snorts. “You send that wild ass email and expect me to not book it back here to make sure my favorite twerk partner isn’t Gucci?” She suddenly asks, “wait, do people still say that?”

“Probably not. We’re old and outdated now.”

“Speak for yourself, I had a 24 year old Frenchman eat me out last month, and it was C'est Magnifique,” she sighs, clearly reminiscing as you turn up your nose.

“Too young for me, girl.” Younger men have never done anything for you, even Amri, who was a grade above you, felt too close in age.

“That’s right,” she nods, and you just know there’s something on the tip of her tongue. “You like em’ older. Samoan, tatted, with massive arms and big dicks.” 

“Alexis.” You have to laugh, leaning into her side and laying your head on her shoulder. “I’ve missed you, girl.” You needed this, the time and space to be silly, to have difficult yet important conversations, to both think and not think. Alexis has always been that really great space for you, Mariah for even longer, but given your last interactions with her, you realize she’s not exactly the best candidate at the moment. 

And as if reading your mind, she asks, “how’s ole girl doing?”

Ole girl aka Mariah.

The relationship between Mariah and Alexis……well, there is none. Put simply, they hate each other. More hate on Alexis' part, Mariah has just always kinda ignored Alexis and her role in your life, which is significantly easier considering Alexis is always on the move. The reason for the dislike and incompatibility between the two of them will always be a mystery.

“It’s just something about that girl.”

That’s what she would always say, and it once reached the point where you and Alexis stopped speaking for a couple of weeks, because you were a lot of things, loyal at the top of that list.

Outside of the whole situation with Joe….you still don’t know what exactly happened there.

Nonetheless, it just became agreed upon that talking with one woman about the other would be kept to a minimum, preferably none.

You know Alexis is just trying to be nice by asking. She doesn’t really care. 

“I don’t know,” you answer, honestly. “She’s been….I think she’s just going through something.”

She rolls her eyes, clearly unsurprised. “I’m sure she is.” 

You sigh. “Alexis.”

“I know you don’t like it when I talk about her cause that’s your other ‘best friend,’ but I’m telling you, Y/N, that girl is not your friend. She’s jealous of you. She been jealous of you,” she blurts out, as if keeping it in any longer would be painful. “But, imma be quiet.”

And she does which you’re grateful for, even if her words are, for the first time, starting to trigger some unfamiliar thoughts. Alexis, Kai, your own experiences. You’ve always leaned on the side of where there’s smoke, there’s fire, and Mariah’s forest is ablaze.

You just have to figure out how to approach all of this.

Among the other 50 fucking things you have to figure out.

_______

You can’t remember the last time you propped up your phone to call Joe for any reason other than Callie wanting to see or speak to him. 

And yet, here you are, in your bathroom, preparing for your nightly routine, doing just that. 

He answers on the third ring, eyes lighting up with surprise when he sees it’s you and not Callie. “Hey.”

“Hi.” Your tone is much too cheery for your taste, so you attempt to roll it back. “Is, uhh, is this a bad time?”

“Never a bad time for you,” he replies, smoothly. Looking into the screen, you realize he’s sitting up in bed, one arm behind his head. “What’s up? I thought you were having a girls night with Alexis.”

“We were. Well, we did, but she’s white girl wasted, passed out in my bed right now,” you answer, peeking through your ajar bathroom door to make sure she didn’t wander off somewhere. She was always that mobile drunk friend who had to be carefully monitored or else she’d end up on a local new station. “You talk to Callie?”

He nods as you grab your face wash and dispense some into your hand to lather. “Yeah, earlier. She seems to be having a good time with your mom.”

“She usually does, cause like you, my mom never tells her no.” You’ve always allowed that space for your mom to have her own relationship with Callie, one that you have no interference with. Similar to how it was for you with your grandma. But now with Joe being in the picture too, you foresee having to be that parent that actually tells their kid no.

Cause Lord knows Joe ain’t shaping up to be the one. 

“She doesn’t do anything for us to have to tell her no.”

You pause in the midst of scrubbing your face. “God, I can’t wait for you to finally experience one of her tantrums. Next time you come, I’m gonna keep her up so you can see how she gets when she’s tired.” Joe has been blessed to really only experience happy Callie, even, unfortunately, sad Callie, but he’s yet to see your little girl when she’s angry.

“Don't do that to her.” He immediately grows defensive, and you giggle. “She’s a good kid.”

“She is,” you agree, rinsing your face and adding, “but all kids have moments, Joe. I would know, I work with them.”

“Well, you—”

“He don’t wanna be saved, don’t save him!”

You’re in the midst of drying your face when Alexis’s drunk, random ass comes stumbling by the door. “Alexis, what the hell are you doing up?”

Your words clearly trigger something with her wasted ass, cause in a matter of seconds, she’s crying. “My name is Alexis, but I’m not from Texas,” she begins to cry profusely at the word ‘Texas’, and it takes everything in you not to fall out laughing. You haven’t seen her this wasted since your junior year of college.

Hand on her back moving in circles, you soothe, “it’s okay, sweetie. You’re way better than her anyway.”

“Are you sure?” She asks, all soft and innocent, the complete opposite of the porn star she’s crying over not being. 

“Of course.” You place your arms around her and mouth to Joe you’ll be right back. “Now, let's get you back to bed.”

“Are we gonna fuck?”

“No, Lex, you’re gonna sleep, and I’m going to finish talking to Joe.”

“Oh.” Her disappointment is hilarious as she yells out, much louder than necessary. “Bye, Joe!”

“Girl, you are gonna get me evicted,” you scold with a small laugh, guiding her into your bed and under the blankets. “Now, you sleep this off, and I’ll roast you in the morning over your antics. Deal?”

Alexis is so drunk, she couldn’t consent to breathing right now, but she does manage to give you a crooked thumbs up. “Deal.”

Stepping back into the bathroom, you give Joe a look and shake your head as he asks, “Damn. How much did ya’ll drink?”

“You mean how much did she drink?” You correct him. He knows good and well that’s not your thing. Never was. You didn’t need alcohol to have a good time. You could shake your ass on any table just fine, good and sober. “A lot. I just had two glasses of wine.” Suddenly remember something, you start speaking again, eager for his perspective on an idea that crossed your mind the other day. 

“I think we should—”

“Go out with me.” 

You both speak at the same time, but his statement obviously gives you pause. You stare at him, momentarily confused and ask, “what?”

He repeats himself, just as confident the first time around. “Go on a date with me.”

For a second, you think he’s joking, think he’s playing with you for some reason, but one look at his expression, and you know he’s being for real. You’re not sure how to respond, asking again, “like an actual date? A real date?”

“No, like a fake date.” He rolls his eyes, and you resist flipping him off. “Yes, an actual date.” 

Still confused, you ask in a quieter voice, “why?”

His answer is surprisingly simple and unsurprisingly genuine. “Because I’ve never actually taken you out, and I want to. You deserve that much.”

This has been such a wild ass day. Hell, ever since Joe reentered your life, things have been wild. For the majority, if not entirety, of your relationship, you spent most of your time with this man holed up in your apartment and hotel rooms. Now he’s asking to take you out on a proper date. 

What a 180.

It’s like he can see the wheels turning in your head and reassures, still with all the boldness. “We can take this as slow as you want, but you should know I’m heading in one direction and one direction only.”

Fuck. There’s nothing unclear about that, but it’s not surprising. He’s made it clear what he wants from you. He’s just waiting on you to tell him what you want from him. 

After a few minutes of silence, you ask, "just a date?"

“Just a date,” he agrees. You should know him well enough though to know that’s not it. Sure enough, he smugly adds, “but if you end up riding my dick, then that’s just fate, baby.”

And there it goes, that charisma and charm that always kept you coming back for more.

Your smile is hard to conceal, so you settle for biting your lip, looking away. This man has no filter sometimes…not that you’re complaining. At all.

Feeling bold, probably from the wine traveling through your system, you play into his teasing. “Maybe I just want some dick.” 

“That’s fine too.” He shrugs. “You know all you gotta do is ask, and I’ll get you right. Every single time.” A beat. “How you think Callie got here?”

That’s the thing….he’s not wrong, not wrong at all. You can’t think of a single sexual encounter with this man that didn’t either bring tears to your eyes from how good he was eating you up or had you walking with an almost limp the next day from how good he beat your shit up. Often both.

It’s always a good time with the head of the table.

Finally, you settle on an answer that feels most appropriate. “I’ll only agree if you agree to behave.”

He looks confused. Understandable. “What does it mean to behave?”

Crossing your arms over your chest, you answer confidently, “it means keeping your hands and body parts to yourself.”

If you agree to this, it has to be well regulated and feelings or hormones can’t get in the way of things. If you and Joe are to progress into something more, you have to take it slow, even if just for Callie. 

At least, that’s the hope. 

Nodding, he asks, mischief in his light eyes. “What if you’re the one who can’t behave?”

You snort, using the oil to grease your scalp. “Unlikely.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“We’ll see about that.” He has that look in his eyes, the same look that almost always ended up with you bent over whatever the most sturdy object in the room was. It’s a dangerous expression. 

And you suddenly find your thighs clenching together. 

Not a good sign. 

“Well,” you clear your throat, leaning over the counter, praying his perceptive ass didn’t notice that. “As much as I would love to continue to chat with you, I have to call our daughter and talk to her before she goes to bed.” It’s not an entire lie; you do need to call her. Just not at this moment. He doesn't need to know that though. 

“You’re flustered, aren’t you?” 

This man….

Two can play that game. 

Pushing your arms together to press your breast together, you’re pleased seeing his gaze darken. “Does it look like I’m flustered, baby?” His jaw clenching is all the satisfaction you need. Mission accomplished. “Goodnight, Joe.” 

Refusing to give him a chance to come back with something, you end the call, only realizing what just happened once you’re left alone with your thoughts.

You’re going out on a date with Joe.

What the fuck?

[msbigredmachine]

Finding Angel: 4

MASTERLIST

Elysian Motion Studios, Midtown Atlanta 

The sounds of sneakers squeaking on polished wood and a booming hip-hop beat fill the massive room. Naima stands at the front of the class, her reflection mirrored endlessly across the walls. The Saturday morning sunlight pours through wide windows, casting long golden streaks across the floor. Normally, this place is her sanctuary, a world apart from the glittering haze of Exotica. Today, though, her mind is elsewhere.

A few days have passed since her clash with Roman in the champagne room. The memory of it clings to her like stubborn smoke, curling into every corner of her thoughts no matter how hard she tries to focus. It’s not her first fight with a guy, but something about this one leaves a raw edge she can’t shake. They haven’t spoken since, and she is not comfortable with how much that bothers her.

“Five, six, seven, eight!” she calls out sharply, clapping her hands to the rhythm with more force than usual.

The students flinch slightly but keep moving. Teenagers with dreams of TikTok fame twirl and pop alongside a few moms laughing at themselves as they stumble through the choreography. A middle-aged man in the back concentrates furiously, determined not to trip over his own feet.

“Don’t overthink it!” Naima encourages, though her tone carries an unintentional bite. She walks through the group with a commanding presence, her movements sharper and more precise than usual. “Feel the beat in your chest, don’t fight it! Let it carry you!”

Phoenix, her teaching partner, leans casually against the mirrored wall, arms crossed, a knowing smirk on his face. His sweat-slick golden brown skin practically glows under the studio lights, and his clean-cut features look like they’ve been sculpted by a Renaissance artist. His usual charm is in full effect as he cracks jokes with the students.

“She’s intense today, ain’t she?” he jokes to a teenage boy trying to keep up.

“She scary, bruh,” the boy mutters, though his grin betrays his admiration.

Naima spins around, catching the exchange. “I heard that! And y’all gon’ thank me when y’all nail this routine.”

The group groans good-naturedly, but her students love her. She has a way of pushing them while making them feel seen, a balance that comes naturally. Today, though, her frustration simmers just below the surface.

After wrapping up the hip-hop session, the atmosphere in the studio shifts. The room clears out, leaving a smaller group of women changing into more form-fitting gear. This is Naima’s second class of the day: pole dancing.

She moves to the next room where the gleaming metal poles are situated, and ties her long natural curls into a high puff on top of her head, and sheds her loose t-shirt and sweatpants for a sleek sports bra and biker shorts. “Alright, ladies, let’s get to it,” she announces, kicking off her sneakers and slipping into her clear heels. “Pole isn’t just about strength. It’s about rhythm, confidence, and owning your space. So, let’s own it.”

Her moves are fluid as she demonstrates a spin and transitions into a graceful climb. The students watch, wide-eyed, some giggling nervously. Normally, she loves showing them what their bodies can do, even if they don’t believe it yet. Today, though, she feels a pang of impatience, like everything around her is moving in slow motion.

Phoenix, ever observant, notices her tension. “You good, Nai?” he asks, stepping closer to her after the pole class is over.

“I’m fine,” she replies quickly, her voice clipped.

Phoenix raises an eyebrow but doesn’t press further. He’s known her long enough to steer clear when she’s in this mood. Instead, he takes his place near the camera, ready to film their choreographed routine for their dance studio’s social media handles, all named Elysian Moves.

Naima has been steadily growing her personal and professional Instagram and YouTube following for years, holding on to the hope that the right person might notice her one day, hopefully one of the top choreographers in the world. Sean Bankhead is her ultimate idol, but lately, she’s been inspired by Paris Goebel, whose cutting-edge choreography has made her a global powerhouse. Watching their work is a reminder of where Naima wants to be in the future.

“You ready to make us go viral, queen?” Phoenix teases as Naima adjusts the camera angle.

“You know I was born ready,” she says, though her smirk doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

They nail the routine, a fiery blend of hip-hop and jazz that showcases their creativity. Phoenix replays the footage afterwards, but Naima isn’t absorbing any of it. She should be focused, analyzing her movements, critiquing her form…but her mind keeps drifting.

To him.

To the sharp cut of his jawline, the heat in his gaze, the way he looked at her before everything went sideways. She should have moved the fuck on. But she hasn’t.

His deep voice echoes in her head, low and rough from their last conversation. She wonders if he’s thinking about her too.

Probably not.

Men like him don’t dwell. He’s likely moved on, flashing that easy smirk at someone else.

“You know you can talk to me about anything, right?” Phoenix’s voice is quieter now, careful.

Naima blinks, finally meeting his gaze. There’s something there, something warm, patient—more—but she doesn’t reach for it.

She never does.

“I know,” she says, but nothing more.

Instead, she hits play again, pretending she can drown Roman out.

Naima sits at the small kitchen table in her sister’s cozy home, absentmindedly stirring honey into her tea. The late afternoon sun streams through the window, casting a warm light over the space, but it does nothing to calm the storm raging inside her. 

Across from her, Adara leans back in her chair, arms crossed and watching her baby sister with a mix of curiosity and concern.

Adara has always been a steadying presence in Naima’s life. Twelve years older, she practically helped raise Naima with their aging parents. Strong, composed, and fiercely protective, Adara has weathered life’s storms with a quiet strength Naima has always admired. But now, sitting under the weight of her sister’s steady gaze, Naima feels like a teenager caught sneaking out past her curfew.

“So,” Adara prompts gently, her tone calm but firm. “You didn’t come all the way over here just to stare at your tea. What’s going on, Nai?”

Naima hesitates, her fingers tightening around the mug. “It’s…complicated.”

“With you, it usually is,” Adara laughs, leaning forward slightly. “But you’ve got that look, like something big’s happened. Start talkin’.”

Naima takes a deep breath, glancing toward the living room where Adara’s eleven-year-old son Julien’s laughter echoes as he watches wrestling clips on YouTube. Her nephew’s excitement makes this all feel even stranger. “Okay. So…there’s this guy…”

Adara raises an eyebrow, her expression neutral but attentive. “There’s always a guy when you show up like this.”

“No, this is different,” Naima interjects, setting her mug down. “He’s…he’s not like anyone I’ve ever met before. His name’s Roman.”

Adara tilts her head, her lips twitching as if suppressing a smile. “Roman, huh? He sounds handsome already.”

He’s beautiful. Naima sighs. “He is. He’s a wrestler. Like, a big deal wrestler.”

Adara blinks, clearly taken aback. “A wrestler? Like the ones on TV that Julien keeps yelling about?” she jerks her thumb in her son’s direction.

“Yes,” Naima laughs nervously. “Exactly like that. Julien probably knows who he is better than I do.”

Adara studies her for a moment, her eyes narrowing slightly. “And how did you meet this wrestler?”

Naima hesitates, shifting in her seat. “At Exotica.”

Adara’s lips press into a thin line, her expression unreadable. She doesn’t say anything, but the silence is loud.

Naima knows that look. Knows Adara has opinions about her line of work; the same ones she’s been biting back for years. But instead of voicing them, Adara simply waits, her gaze steady, expectant.

“He came in for a private dance,” Naima explains, her voice soft. “And we…clicked. It wasn’t like anything I’ve experienced before, Adara. The way he looked at me, the way he talked to me—it was like I wasn’t just some stripper to him.”

Adara’s expression softens slightly, though her brows remain furrowed. “Okay. And then what happened?”

Naima glances away, her cheeks burning. “I took him home. We…we slept together. And now it feels like it’s moving so fast. Two days ago he came back to Atlanta just to see me, and we had this big argument.”

Adara’s eyebrows shoot up. “An argument already? About what?”

Naima runs a hand through her straight strands of her wig, letting out a frustrated sigh. “He doesn’t like that I work at Exotica. He says it bothers him, that I deserve better. But he doesn’t understand. I need that job. It’s how I survive. It’s how I help you and Julien. And he has no right to tell me how to live my life just because we had sex.”

Adara leans back in her chair, her expression thoughtful. “What exactly did he say?”

Naima recounts their argument in the champagne room, the way Roman’s protectiveness had veered into frustration, and how she’d thrown his possessiveness back in his face.

When she finishes, Adara lets out a long breath of her own, tapping her fingers lightly on the table. “Sounds like he’s used to getting his way.”

“Exactly,” Naima says, her voice sharp. “He walks in like he owns the place, like he owns everything he comes across. And from what I’ve seen, he does. But he don’t own me. I don’t give a damn how much money he got or how good he is in bed.”

Adara smirks. “That good, huh?”

“That’s not the point, Sissy,” Naima groans her sister's pet name, covering her face with her hands.

“Okay, okay,” Adara chuckles and holds up her hands in surrender. “Look. I get it. You’re independent, and you’ve worked your ass off to take care of yourself. But maybe this guy’s not trying to control you. Maybe he just doesn’t know how else to show he cares.”

Naima frowns, lowering her hands. “So what, I’m supposed to just let him bulldoze into my life and tell me what to do?”

“No,” Adara says firmly. “But maybe you don’t have to push him away either. You’ve been on your own for so long, it’s okay to let someone worry about you and care for you.”

Naima stares down at her tea, her mind racing. “It’s scary, Adara. Letting someone in like that…it’s overwhelming.”

Adara reaches across the table, taking Naima’s hand in hers. “I know, Nai-Nai. But you don’t have to figure it all out today. Take it one step at a time. And don’t let fear make your decisions for you.”

Before Naima can respond, Julien’s excited voice rings out from the living room. “Auntie Nai, did you say you know Roman Reigns?! The OTC himself?!”

Adara giggles softly as Naima’s head drops to the table. “Guess the cat’s out of the bag.”

Despite herself, Naima manages a small smile, her heart feeling a little lighter. Maybe Adara is right. Maybe she doesn’t have to have all the answers right now.

The following days continue to be heavy with silence between Roman and Naima, each too stubborn to make the first move. Naima engrosses herself into her work, pushing through her sets and her classes with an intensity that leaves her physically exhausted but mentally distracted. Roman, back home in Miami, channels his frustration into grueling workouts and business calls, though his thoughts constantly drift to her; Her voice, her fire; the way she stood her ground. Both feeling slighted and frustrated by how things broke down between them so quickly.

But beneath their anger is a lingering ache, a pull that’s become too magnetic to resist.

Naima is in her apartment this evening, the quiet pressing in around her. She scrolls through her phone, her finger hesitating over Roman’s name in her contacts. Her chest tightens as she remembers his expression when she made him leave, how hurt he looked despite trying to mask it.

“Ugh,” she mutters, tossing the phone aside and burying her face in her hands. Why is he getting under her skin like this?

Meanwhile, the OTC stands on the balcony of his penthouse, the city lights glittering below him. His phone rests on the railing, Naima’s number already pulled up. He clenches his jaw, debating whether to call her. Part of him wants to maintain their distance, but the other part…the part that can’t stop replaying her words…feels like he needs to set things right.

Finally, Roman cracks. With a low, resigned growl, he grabs his phone and dials.

Naima’s phone buzzes on the couch, and she freezes at the sight of his name flashing on the screen. Her heart races as she picks it up, her thumb hovering over the answer button.

“Just answer it,” she whispers to herself, before finally swiping. “Hello?”

Roman’s deep voice comes through, steady but laced with tension. “Hey.”

She swallows hard. “Hey.”

There’s a long, tense pause, both of them struggling to find the right words.

“I don’t like how we left things,” he says finally, his voice quieter than she expects.

“Me neither,” she admits, her fingers gripping the phone tightly.

“I didn’t mean to come at you the way I did,” Roman continues. “I just…It irks me to see you in a place where people don’t treat you right and you’re in harm’s way.”

Though Naima’s heart softens a little, she still feels the need to defend herself. “I know you mean well. But this is my life, and I’ve been handling it on my own for a long time. I don’t need anyone stepping in and trying to fix me or whatever.”

“I’m not trying to fix you,” Roman says, his voice steady but softer than she expects. “I don’t think you’re broken. I just don’t like seeing you deal with shit you don’t deserve. And if I can make things easier for you, even a little, I want to.”

Naima swallows, his words catching her off guard. He barely knows me. Yet, there’s something about the way he says it—no pressure, no expectation—that makes her stomach twist.

“I don’t even know how to let you do that,” she admits. “We just met.”

“I know,” Roman nods. “That’s why there’s no rush. Just…don’t push me away before I even get the chance to be here for you.”

She exhales, blinking against the sudden sting in her eyes. “I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t gotta say anything,” he tells her. “Just let me do the work.”

For a moment, she just sits with his words, turning them over in her mind. She isn’t used to this; someone wanting to stand beside her without trying to control her.

Naima nods, even though he can’t see her. “Okay.”

A small silence stretches between them, but this time, it’s not heavy. It feels more like a tentative truce.

“I’ll be back in Atlanta this weekend,” Roman says finally, his tone lighter. “Let me take you out.”

Naima smiles softly, the tension in her chest easing. “I’d like that.”

“Good,” he says, and she can hear the smile in his voice. “I gotta go. But I’ll talk to you soon, baby girl.”

After they say their goodbyes, Naima sets her phone down and leans back against the couch, a strange sense of relief washing over her. 

The days that follow their conversation brings a quiet yet welcome shift. One of relief and excitement as their reunion inches closer and closer. Naima replays Roman’s sexy voice in her mind as she moves through her routines. At work, her sets have less of the frantic, escapist energy that consumed her just days ago. Instead, she finds herself slowing down, focusing on the movements she loves, and on the art of her dance rather than the hustle.

Roman feels lighter, though his days are no less busy. He powers through his matches and business meetings with renewed clarity, his mind no longer as clouded by frustration. The memory of their call—the vulnerability in Naima’s voice, the way she softened—keeps him grounded. He’s not quite sure where this will go, but for now, the fact that she is willing to let him in is enough.

Naima stands in front of the mirror in her bedroom, a pile of discarded outfits on her bed as she huffs in frustration. “Why does this feel like such a big deal?” she mutters to herself, nervously running her hands down the black dress clinging to her curves.

“Because it is a big deal,” Brandy pipes up behind her, brushing her daughter, Treasure’s hair. The little girl sits quietly, swinging her legs as her mother carefully smooths her hair.

Naima frowns at herself in the mirror. “It’s just a date. And we’ve hung out before.”

Brandy smirks knowingly. “Well, this is a date, date. With a fine ass man who got you actin’ like a teenager before prom,” she finishes, arching a brow. “And don’t even try to deny it.”

Naima rolls her eyes but can’t stop her face from flushing through her carefully done makeup. “I’m not actin’ like a teenager,” she mutters, fiddling with the hem of her dress. “I just…wanna look good, that’s all.”

Brandy lets out a soft laugh as she ties the final curl in Treasure’s hair with a bright pink bow. “Girl, you always look good. You stressin’ cuz this man got you feelin’ somethin’. And that’s okay.”

Treasure turns her wide eyes toward Naima, her little voice chiming in, “Is he a prince, Auntie Nai?”

Naima chuckles despite herself, crouching down to Treasure’s level. “Something like that, baby girl,” she says, unwilling to shatter the little girl’s illusion.

Brandy tilts her head, watching her BFF closely. They’ve known each other for five years, and she’s never seen her like this. “Close enough to make you nervous. This is new, Nai.”

Naima straightens up and shrugs, avoiding her gaze. “He’s just different, I guess.”

Brandy’s smirk deepens as she folds her arms. “Uh-huh. Different enough to have you raiding your closet like it’s life or death.”

“B…”

“I’m just saying! If he makes you nervous, that means you care. And if you care, maybe you should stop pretending it’s just a date.”

Naima sighs, brushing her long straight hair back from her face. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“And you’re in denial, but do you.” 

Naima’s heart thuds in her chest. She turns back to the mirror, taking a deep breath. “Just a date,” she whispers to herself again, though the fluttering in her stomach says otherwise. “Is this too much?”

Brandy tilts her head, studying the dress that shows off every curve she owns. “Absolutely not! It’s perfect. You’re going for classy but sexy, not trying-too-hard. Trust me.”

Treasure looks up at Naima and smiles shyly. “You look so pretty, Auntie Nai!”

Naima can’t help but laugh, warmth blooming in her chest. “Thank you, Treasure. You’re my little cheerleader tonight.”

Brandy sets the brush down and moves to stand behind Naima, smoothing down her sleeves. “Roman’s not gonna know what hit him. You look stunning!”

Naima meets her friend’s eyes in the mirror, her nerves clearly showing. “What if it’s awkward? After our fight…”

Brandy’s expression softens. “You two are fine, Naima. He flew back just to see you. He didn’t have to. This ain’t another patron lookin’ for another dance.”

Naima nods slowly, taking another deep breath. “You right. I just…I don’t know, I guess I’m a little scared.”

Brandy gives her a reassuring hug. “You’re allowed to be scared. Just don’t let it stop you. You got this.”

Treasure helps Naima put on her stilettos, beaming that she’s being helpful. “She’s gonna have the best date ever!” 

Naima laughs, scooping the seven-year-old up into a hug. “You’re my good luck charm, huh?”

The sound of a knock at the door freezes her. Her heart races as she sets Treasure down and looks at Brandy with wide eyes. “That’s him.”

Brandy gives her a little shove toward the door. “Go. We’ll finish cleaning up here. And relax, you’ve got this.”

The distance from her room to the front door feels longer than it should. Naima opens the door to find Roman standing there, looking as effortlessly handsome as ever in a fitted dark suit and a crisp black shirt, a bouquet of white roses in his hands. His long hair is neatly tied back, and his usual confidence radiates from him, though there is a softness in his expression when his eyes meet hers.

“Hi,” she says, her voice soft and shy.

“Hi,” he replies, stepping forward and pulling her into a big hug. 

Naima sinks into his embrace, wrapping her arms tightly around his waist. They stand there for a long moment, neither of them speaking, just holding each other. The tension from their last conversation seems to melt away, replaced by something warm and unspoken.

Roman finally pulls back just enough to look down at her. “You look incredible,” he gushes, handing the bouquet to her.

“Thank you,” she responds, her cheeks flushing. “You clean up pretty well yourself.”

He chuckles, his hand lingering on the small of her back. “I wanted tonight to be special. To show you…well, that I mean what I said before. I’m here, Naima. For you.”

Her throat tightens, emotions threatening to overwhelm her. “I know. I’m sorry if I—”

“Hey.” Roman cuts her off with a gentle finger on her lips. “Let’s just enjoy tonight, okay?”

Naima nods, her nerves easing just a little. “Okay.”

Brandy materializes seemingly out of thin air, rushing over to gently relieve Naima of the roses. “I’ll put these in a vase for you,” she says, grinning. “Y’all look like a magazine cover. Go have fun, lovebirds.”

Naima rolls her eyes, laughing softly, while Roman chuckles and gives Brandy a polite nod. “Thanks for helping her out.”

“Anytime, big man,” Brandy says, winking.

As Roman leads Naima out to his Bentley, the warmth of his hand in hers reassures her. She is almost floating on air. The ride is comfortable, both basking in each other’s presence and aura. They eventually pull up to Marcel, an upscale restaurant that Naima never looked at twice because of its sheer opulence. 

“Roman,” she says, her voice a mix of awe and uncertainty, “This is…a lot.”

He parks and turns to her, his expression serious. “Only the best for you, beautiful.”

Her breath hitches at the intensity of his words, but before she can respond, he’s already out of the car and opening her door. He offers his hand, which she takes, feeling a spark as his fingers thread through hers. 

The restaurant is a dream. Its dim lighting, elegant leather banquettes, and vintage décor exude a timeless sophistication that makes every guest feel like a VIP. Naima orders a delicate seafood linguine, the pasta glistening in a light white wine and garlic sauce, topped with fresh shrimp and scallops. Roman opts for a perfectly cooked filet mignon, paired with truffle mashed potatoes and roasted asparagus, the plate a balance of sophistication and hearty flavor. Roman orders her favorite wine without needing to ask. 

The evening passes in a blur of soft laughter, meaningful glances, and the kind of conversation that makes time feel irrelevant. When he later asks about Brandy and her presence at Naima’s apartment, she feeds his curiosity.

“She seems like she’s got your back, “Roman comments, cutting into his steak. “That’s rare in your world, I bet.”

Naima giggles softly, sipping her wine. “Rare don’t even begin to cover it. She’s a badass. She’s been through so much, but she’s so positive. Her daughter, Treasure, she’s adorable. Seven going on seventeen. Keeps Brandy on her toes.”

Roman smirks. “Sounds like a beautiful relationship.”

“It is.” Naima smiles fondly, setting her glass down. “It makes me think of Adara sometimes. She’s always been that steady presence in my life, even when things got tough.”

Roman leans back in his chair, recollecting. “Adara…Your sister, right?”

Naima nods, looking thoughtful. “Mm-hmm. She’s twelve years older than me, so she was more like a second mom growing up. She’s raised her son, Julien, practically on her own. He’s eleven now and—” Her face lights up, “he’s a big wrestling fan. Like, huge. That’s why you looked familiar when I first saw you in Exotica.”

Roman chuckles, his dimples showing. “Yeah? Who's his favorite?”

She raises a teasing eyebrow. “Who do you think?”

He smirks, tapping his chest. “The Tribal Chief, of course.”

“Of course,” Naima laughs, the sound light and musical. “I think you’d like him,” she puts out there, her eyes softening. “You might already be his hero.”

Roman grins. “Well, I’d better meet him soon, then. Can’t let the kid down.”

Her heart swells at his easy confidence, at the way he doesn’t shy away from the idea of meeting her family.

Not too fast now, Naima.

“You’ve got this…presence,” she observes after the waiter he summoned walks away, swirling her glass of wine. “Like, you walk into a room, and everyone just knows you’re in charge.”

Roman leans back in his chair, an air of pride in his demeanor. “It’s useful. But it’s not just about being in charge. It’s about making sure the people I care about are good.” His gaze softens as he looks at her. “That includes you.”

Her heart flutters, and she boldly reaches across the table to take his hand. “You make it hard to keep my guard up, you know that?”

He chuckles, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. “Good. You don’t need it with me. I gotchu, baby.”

The silence between them is thick, charged with something unspoken yet undeniable. Naima breaks it first, a slow, knowing smile tugging at her lips as she tilts her head and teases, “You call me ‘baby’ a lot. What’s that about, huh?”

Roman’s eyes darken, his gaze locking onto hers with an intensity that sends a slow heat curling through her belly. His voice drops lower, rougher, as he leans in just enough to make her breath hitch. His lips curve, full of promise, full of possession. “Because when I say it, you look at me like you did the night we met…Like you wanna be mine.”

A spark of electricity shoots through her, a rush of heat flooding between her thighs. The way he says it, with that quiet confidence, that raw certainty, makes her pulse stutter. Any other man saying something like that would have made her roll her eyes, maybe even walk away. But him? The way he owns it, the way he owns her in that moment, keeps her rooted in place, breathless.

She forces herself to hold his gaze, to push back against the intoxicating pull of him. Her lips part, and she murmurs, a teasing edge laced in her breathless words, “You’re awful cocky for someone who’s still earning it.”

Roman’s smirk deepens, a slow, wicked curve that makes her toes curl in her stilettos. “It ain’t cocky when you back that shit up. I do, every single time. I know what I want. And I want you, Naima. Period.”

Her chest tightens, a thrill sparking in her veins as she realizes just how serious he is. She bites her lip, trying to maintain some semblance of composure, but her inner voice betrays her, a single, undeniable word echoing in her thoughts.

Damn.

The night ends with Roman leading her back to the car, his arm around her slender waist. They don’t speak much on the drive home, but the silence between them feels warm and easy, like they don’t need words.

As he walks her to her door, the tension between them crackles like static in the charged air. She turns to him, their eyes locking in the dim light of the hallway. 

“Thanks. For dinner. For…everything,” she says.

Roman steps closer, his fingers brushing her chin. “Thanks for giving me a chance, baby girl,” he replies, his voice low and steady. “I meant what I said. I’m here for you. Whatever you need, whenever you need it.”

She looks up at him, her chest tightening at the sincerity in his eyes. Slowly, she steps closer, her hand resting on his bicep.

“I think I’m starting to believe you,” she whispers.

Roman’s smile is soft but firm. “Good. Cuz like I said, I ain’t goin’ nowhere,” he murmurs, his tone carrying a weight that quickens her pulse.

It accelerates even more as she finds herself leaning up, her lips brushing against his in a tender, teasing kiss. But the softness doesn’t last. The kiss deepens quickly, their restraint dissolving as desire takes over. His hands slide to her waist, pulling her flush against him. Naima’s fingers curl into his shirt, holding on like she’s afraid to let go. The hours spent pretending to be patient have finally unraveled.

She fumbles with the door, barely managing to push it open before they stumble inside, lips never breaking contact. Roman presses her back against the wall, his hands gripping her hips firmly, grinding himself against her and making her gasp into his mouth.

She feels one hand leave her body, reaching into his pocket to pull out a condom. Naima’s lips curve into a teasing smile, even as her breaths come fast and shallow.

“You came prepared this time,” she observes, her voice laced with amusement.

Roman blushes, a rare flicker of boyishness breaking through his usual confidence. “I was hopeful,” he admits, tearing open the wrapper with swift precision.

“Thank God,” she gasps, hiking her dress up to her waist and ridding herself of her thong while he manages to put on the condom, lifting her fully against the wall in one fluid motion.

“You don’t know what you do to me,” Roman mutters against her skin as he pushes inside her, his lips trailing down her neck.

Naima moans out loud, her fingers tangling in his hair as he grips her bare ass. “I do,” she says breathlessly, her voice shaking, “Cuz you do the same to me.” 

The next moments are a blur of heat and intensity, making her dizzy with desire. His thrusts are deep, raw and desperate, his hunger for her taking over. Naima’s moans of pleasure echo around the apartment, her head tipped back against the wall as she clings to him, every nerve in her body ignited by his touch. The way he holds her, kisses her, fucks her…It’s exactly what she needs, a release from all the tension and uncertainty that’s been building between them.

But Roman isn’t finished. Even as they catch their breath, his hands stay on her, possessive and firm as he carries her to the kitchen, setting her on the counter with a controlled urgency that sends a thrill through her.

“This fuckin’ dress,” he says, his voice gravelly as his paws for hands skim her thighs, pushing the fabric higher. “Drove me crazy all night.”

Naima lets out a shaky laugh, her eyes half-lidded with desire. “Good. That was the point,” she teases, her voice unsteady.

Roman’s response is to capture her lips again, silencing any further words. Their remaining clothes disappear, leaving nothing between them. He takes her right there on the counter, and Naima surrenders completely. She loves how he takes charge, the way he doesn’t hold back. He’s deep and hard, rough and unrelenting, leaving her gasping, trembling, desperate for more. Every touch, every kiss, every stroke makes her feel alive, desired, and utterly his.

“Roman,” she gasps, her nails raking down his bare back. She can feel his dick all the way in her, right up against her g-spot, and she's seeing stars. “Don’t stop.”

“Never,” he promises, his voice rough with emotion, his hands gripping her as though he never wants to let go.

Finally, Roman gathers her into his arms, cradling her limp body as he carries her to her bedroom. The urgency of before fades, giving way to something slower, something gentler. He lays her down with a tenderness that makes her chest tighten, his warm gaze sweeping over her. He brushes a stray curl from her face, his thumb lingering on her cheek.

“I’m sorry. About last time,” he murmurs, the weight of it heavy in the quiet room.

Naima’s lips curve into a soft, knowing smile. “I’m sorry, too.” She hesitates, searching his eyes. “I didn’t mean to push you away…I just…” She exhales, her fingers tracing the solid lines of his forearm. “I don’t open up to people like this. Not this fast.”

He studies her for a moment, then leans in, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to her lips. “I get it. It’s the same with me,” he whispers. “But I don’t wanna fight with you, Naima. I just want you.”

Her hand slides up to his face, fingertips grazing the sharp edge of his jaw. When he turns into her touch, nuzzling his cheek into her palm, something in her chest shatters.

“I want you, too.”

When he enters her this time, it’s unhurried, deliberate. His thrusts are deeper, slower, each movement steeped in need and reverence. His body is heavy against hers in the most delicious way, his lips mapping a path along her jaw, down the column of her throat. Naima clings to him, her nails raking down his back, gripping the firm muscle of his ass, pulling that long, thick dick of his even deeper inside her. Roman groans, burying his face in her neck, murmuring his pleasure like a sacred mantra.

Then she shifts, rolling them over until she’s on top. He exhales a ragged curse as she sinks back down onto him, her pussy incredibly swallowing him whole. The stretch, the fullness…it steals her breath, makes her head fall back as she rides him, her pace measured and devastating.

“Holy shit,” Roman grits out, hands gripping her hips, her ass, anywhere he can hold onto. He meets her movements, pushing deeper, dragging his palms over her skin like he can’t get enough. “Baby, you feel too fuckin’ good.”

Naima’s thighs are already trembling, her hands pressing to his chest as she leans forward, her lips crashing onto his in a hungry kiss. “You’re so deep,” she gasps, voice barely above a breath.

And yet, he wants to be deeper. Needs to be. Roman groans again, his grip on her ass tightening, hips snapping up to meet hers, reveling in her moans and whimpers. He’s lost in her, and she’s just as lost in him.

The pleasure builds between them, sharp and undeniable, a tension coiling in their bodies, ready to snap. Naima shudders first, her nails digging into his chest as a whimpering cry rips from her throat, her walls clenching tight around him. Roman curses, his grip bruising as he thrusts up hard, once, twice, before his own release crashes over him like a wave, stealing his breath. His head tips back, a groan rumbling deep in his chest as he comes hard, his entire body tensing beneath her before finally going slack.

She collapses against him, spent, her beautiful body quivering in the aftershocks. Roman wraps his arms around her, holding her close, anchoring her to him as their breathing slowly evens out. They lie tangled together, bodies slick with sweat, breaths still uneven. Roman’s hand rests on her plump backside, gently, lazily squeezing, like he needs to keep touching her. Naima presses her cheek to his chest, listening to the steady thrum of his heartbeat, and for a long moment, neither of them speaks. 

They only met a week or so ago, but somehow, it already feels like more. Like they’ve stepped into something neither of them are ready for, something neither of them can ignore. It was supposed to be just desire, just physical, but the way he holds her, the way she melts into him, makes it clear that this is already more than either of them ever expected.

Thoughts? Business is about to pick up 😈

🏷️: @harmshake @cyberdejos2 @thesamoanqueen @vebner37 @thewarlordsworld @trippinsorrows 

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[midnightmemoirsofher]

𝙌𝙪𝙞𝙚𝙩, 𝘼𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙡

Series: Mine, If You Want (#11) Summary: Mike takes London to a “private” VIP movie screening — but he leaves the curtains open on purpose. Side-fucking, whispered filth, and the constant risk of being seen. Tone: Filthy, risky, intimate, high sexual tension

London followed Mike into the dimly lit theater, her heels silent against the thick carpet. This wasn’t the sticky-floor multiplex kind of place — it was the kind of private, boutique setup you needed connections to even know about.

The balcony seating looked like it belonged in a lounge instead of a theater — wide leather chairs with velvet throws, a low table for drinks, and enough space for two people to sink in and disappear from view… almost.

She noticed the curtains weren’t drawn all the way across the front of the balcony. Down below, the faint silhouettes of other moviegoers shifted in their seats.

“You didn’t close it,” she murmured, glancing up at him.

“Didn’t feel like it,” he said casually, guiding her toward their seats with a hand at the small of her back.

She sat, sinking into the plush leather. Mike took the spot beside her, close enough their thighs brushed immediately, his arm draping along the back of her chair. Even in the low light, his eyes were on her more than the giant screen ahead.

A waiter appeared quietly, setting down a chilled bottle of champagne and two glasses before retreating without a word.

“This is… nice,” she said, still watching the screen but aware of every inch of his body pressed against hers.

He leaned in, his breath warm against her ear. “It’s not about the movie, angel.”

His tone made her pulse skip.

She tilted her head slightly toward him, catching the faint smirk at the corner of his mouth. “Then what is it about?”

“You’ll see.”

He poured them each a glass, the low pop of bubbles the only sound between them for a moment. She took a slow sip, trying to ignore the weight of his arm now resting firmly behind her shoulders, his fingertips brushing against her bare upper arm in a rhythm that felt more like possession than comfort.

And that’s when she realized… this wasn’t private enough to feel safe.

Which, with Mike, probably meant it was exactly the point.

About twenty minutes into the movie, London could feel his attention wasn’t on the screen.

Mike’s arm stayed draped behind her, but now his fingertips had shifted, brushing lazy lines along her shoulder before tracing down her upper arm. Slow. Deliberate. Enough to raise goosebumps even in the dark.

She kept her eyes forward, pretending to watch, but her glass was halfway to her lips when his hand slipped lower — fingertips grazing the bare skin just above her knee.

Her breath caught.

Mike didn’t even glance at her. On the screen, some dramatic orchestral score swelled, masking the quiet slide of his hand further up her thigh. His palm rested warm against her skin, thumb pressing just enough to part her legs slightly.

“Mike—” she whispered, but it came out more like a warning she didn’t mean.

He leaned in, lips brushing the edge of her jaw. “You wearing anything under this dress?”

She swallowed. “…Maybe.”

His smirk was audible in the dark. “Let’s find out.”

His hand disappeared beneath the hem of her dress, fingers skating up over soft skin until he reached her panties. The pad of his thumb traced a slow circle right over the thin fabric covering her clit, just enough pressure to make her knees twitch.

Down below, someone laughed at whatever was happening on screen. The sound seemed far away compared to the thud of her heartbeat in her ears.

“Keep your eyes on the movie,” he murmured, kissing just under her ear. “Don’t let them know.” _

Mike’s thumb stroked over the damp spot in her panties once more before he pulled his hand away — only to catch her wrist and guide her into his lap.

“Mike—” she hissed, glancing at the open balcony curtain.

“Boss,” he corrected smoothly, the word sharp enough to send heat straight to her core. “Now be a good girl.”

She ended up sideways across his chair, her back pressed to his chest, one of her legs hooked over his so her dress fell open around her thighs. From this angle, anyone looking up might see more than they should — but that was his problem. Or maybe that was exactly what he wanted.

His hand slid between her legs again, this time pushing her panties aside completely. He didn’t waste time. The thick head of his dick nudged against her, sliding through her slick folds once, twice, before he sank into her in one long, slow thrust.

Her breath hitched sharply, and his palm immediately covered her mouth.

“Shhh,” he murmured against her ear, his other arm wrapping tight around her waist to keep her against him. “You don’t want them looking up here, do you?”

She shook her head, muffled against his hand, even as he started moving inside her.

It wasn’t rushed. He rocked into her at an agonizing pace, every inch dragging deep before pulling out just enough to make her clench around him. The leather of the seat creaked softly under their combined weight, his chest warm and solid against her back.

His mouth brushed her neck, words barely louder than the sound of the movie:

“Look down there. Keep your eyes on them while I fuck you.”

She tried to focus on the movie, but the steady roll of Mike’s hips made it impossible. Every slow thrust sent heat pooling low in her belly, her body tightening around him without her permission.

Then she heard it — the creak of the balcony door opening.

Her whole body went rigid.

Mike didn’t stop.

Footsteps crossed the carpeted aisle a few rows down, the soft clink of glass suggesting drinks being set down for another couple.

His lips brushed her ear. “Stay still, angel.”

She whimpered into his palm when he adjusted his angle, the head of his dick nudging deeper, catching that spot that made her toes curl.

“Don’t let them know,” he whispered, his tone almost amused. “I’ll know if you do.”

The footsteps lingered just a few feet away. She could see the faint silhouette of the server below, arranging something on the table — and all the while, Mike kept his rhythm slow but deliberate, grinding in just enough to make her knees twitch.

When the door finally closed again, she let out a shaky breath against his hand.

Mike smirked against her neck. “Almost got caught.”

His hand slid from her mouth to her throat, holding her gently but firmly in place as his pace began to pick up. “Guess you like that.”

⸻

The second the balcony door closed, Mike’s control shifted from slow burn to pure possession.

“Up,” he said, voice rough in her ear.

He slid out of her and leaned back in the seat, legs spread. “Reverse,” he ordered, his palm sliding down her thigh to tug her around.

London climbed into his lap, facing the screen, dress pushed up to her waist. She lowered herself onto him slow, taking every thick inch until he was buried deep. The stretch made her gasp — and his hand immediately wrapped around her throat, keeping her there.

“Sit on it,” he murmured, his mouth grazing her ear. “Feel how deep I am?”

She could only nod, her hips already starting to rock. He sat back, letting her move, but his other hand gripped her waist to control the rhythm. Every time she tried to go shallow, he yanked her back down, bottoming out so hard she swore she could feel him in her stomach.

Her fingers dug into his knees, head tipping back against his shoulder when his hips started meeting hers, each thrust slamming up into her with enough force to make her knees shake.

When she tried to pull forward, his arm banded around her waist. “Oh no, angel. You don’t run from me.”

In one motion, he stood, pulling out only long enough to bend her over the couch. Her chest hit the cushions, her ass high, dress bunched up around her hips.

Then he drove back into her — no warning, no build-up — just deep, hard strokes that knocked the air from her lungs. The wet slap of their bodies meeting was loud in the otherwise silent balcony, the mix of her slick and his release from earlier making every thrust obscene.

“You hear that?” he growled, pounding into her. “That’s what everyone down there would hear if I didn’t have you up here hidden.”

Her nails clawed at the cushion, breath breaking into high-pitched whimpers every time he bottomed out. He wasn’t letting her up, wasn’t slowing down.

“You wanted public,” he said, voice dark against her ear, “so I’m gonna fuck you until you can’t walk straight out of here.”

He slammed into her one last time, staying deep as his release spilled inside her, his hips grinding to push it even further. Her legs trembled violently, and he had to hold her up just to keep her from sliding off the couch.

He pulled out slowly, watching his cum spill down the inside of her thigh before tugging her dress halfway into place. Then he sat, dragging her limp into his lap while the movie credits rolled.

“Now,” he said with a smirk she could hear in his voice, “let’s see how you walk out of here.”

[callese]

refseek.com

www.worldcat.org/

link.springer.com

http://bioline.org.br/

repec.org

science.gov

pdfdrive.com

[growing-yet-into-magic]

Worldcat is my bestie and my one true love!! Not only does it tell you what library a book is at, but it also price compares different used book sites against each other for easy view! It's how I got Tarot For the Master for $10!!

[growing-yet-into-magic]

Oh, and since I have your attention: z-library (books and textbooks) and sci-hub (gatekept scientific journal articles.) I just ripped a textbook for class off z-library and snatched a required reading from sci-hub. Life is good and education should be accessible at every stage and station of life.

[mckitterick]

information wants to be free

[daniiwrites]

Shooter

Warnings: Minors DNI. Language. Breeding kink, lactation kink, daddy Dom kink (technically it will eventually be kink filled, but we'll start here). Smutty times ahead.

Word count: 4.6 k. Uhh... I was ovulating when I wrote some of this, so...

Rebuilding my tag list, so please let me know if you'd like to be added or removed. Comments, likes and reblogs (asks too) are very much appreciated. It's how us writers know you like what we're putting out. I love hearing y'all's thoughts.

.:Chapter 1:.

Savannah glanced down at the sweet face of her son, a smile on her lips as she smoothed a hand over his soft curls. Even after eight months, she still couldn’t believe that this little perfect angel was all theirs. She made sure the sleeping baby was covered with his blanket before standing, smoothing her hands over her dress. A nervous energy filled her belly and she didn’t quite know why. This was a happy occasion. It was a day she’d been waiting close to four months for. Her husband was coming home today. 

The airline had given clearance to family members to wait for their soldiers at the gate and and that’s where little Elijah had fallen asleep in his car seat waiting on his daddy. The plane had landed about five minutes prior and Savannah was getting more anxious by the moment. Eventually, passengers began slowly streaming off of the plane. Right after an elderly woman in a wheelchair, she got her first glimpse of a man in uniform. Her heart began to race, almost pounding in her chest. There he was.

My God… he’s still the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen.

His beard covered his strong jaw and it looked like he’d managed to pack on even more muscle while he was overseas. Massive shoulders filled out the black tee her husband wore and it took everything in her to remain rooted to her spot. The bright green eyes she loved so much searched the crowd for her and the moment he spotted her, his pace quickened, almost wanting to shove people out of the way to get to her. Captain Terrance Richmond was home.

Savannah took one step and she was in his arms, giggling as he lifted her off her feet. His grip around her waist was almost so tight that it hurt. The sound of passengers clapping barely registered for either of them as he sat her back on her feet, one hand retaining his hold on her waist as the other tenderly cradled the back of her head as he pulled her in for a kiss. Terry groaned softly as he covered his wife’s lips with his own, tasting a heaven he’d only been able to dream about for the last four months. Her body sagged against his as he kissed her passionately, reminding her who she belonged to. His beard tickled her soft skin as he began to drop sweet little kisses against her swollen lips.  Savannah giggled softly, one hand coming up to cup his bearded cheek. He was home.

“Welcome home, Captain Richmond.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Richmond,” he murmured back, his familiar baritone making her nipples peak beneath the thin fabric of her dress. “You look incredible. Goddamn…”

She felt her skin heat up as he let his eyes drift unabashedly over her body. He always had a way of making her feel like the sexiest woman he’d ever seen, even more after she’d given birth to their son. She heard a soft mewling and glanced down, smiling when she saw the baby stretching his tiny arms and legs. Her husband took a deep breath and the look of adoration on his face made her fall in love with him all over again. Terry squatted down, gently unbuckling his son from his car seat and lifting the eight month old into his arms. Somehow, Elijah managed to look even tinier in his papa’s massive paws. 

“Hey little man… Daddy missed you.” 

Savannah dashed a hand under her eye, catching the tear that threatened to fall as she watched her boys reconnect. Elijah cooed softly, one little hand clutching his daddy’s finger. Terry pressed a kiss to his son’s forehead, chuckling when the baby giggled and reached for his beard. He reached out for his wife, pulling her in close.

“I missed y’all so much.”

“We missed you too, baby,” she murmured, burying her face against his chest and inhaling his familiar scent. “Let’s get you home.”

Her husband maintained his hold on her hip as they strolled through the airport, heading towards baggage claim. She took Elijah into her arms when he reached for her, pressing a kiss to the sleepy baby’s cheek. When she glanced up at her husband, he was already staring down at her, a little smile on his face when she blushed. 

“What?”

“Nothin’. Just enjoying my view and tryin’ to figure out how I got a babe like you to marry me.”

“It was all that Terry charm.”

“Is that what it was?” he asked, a twinkle in his eye.

“I mean… the dick most definitely sealed the deal.”

Those eyes she loved so much darkened and his hold on her hip tightened. The heat in his eyes had Savannah wishing they were home already. She reached up to touch his thick beard. Terry covered her hand with his before bringing it to his mouth and pressing a sweet kiss to her fingers. The kiss may have been sweet, but the look in his eyes was anything but.

“You just wait till I get your little ass home. Gonna rub those thighs raw.”

Her belly clenched at his words, her mind going back to the last time they were intimate and how incredible her husband was in bed. The man was an animal, but he was her animal. While they waited for his bags, Savannah wrapped her free arm around his bicep, leaning her cheek against the massive muscle. Now that he was home, it was like she couldn't get enough of his touch…his smell. 

“I missed you, ladybug.” 

Savannah loved his cute little nickname for her. 

"I missed you too, Terry. You have no idea how much.”

“I think I got an idea,” he said with a little smile, pressing a kiss to her temple.

He spotted his bag and Savannah couldn’t help the sigh she let out when he effortlessly wrangled the heavy bag off of the conveyor belt.

“Is that everything, babe?”

“All the important stuff. I had everything else shipped.”

They headed out to the car and he helped her get the baby buckled into his carseat. After helping her up into the passenger seat of his truck, Terry climbed behind the wheel, a little grin on his face. He was finally home. The ride from the airport was short and uneventful and he couldn’t wait to take a shower, wash the day’s travels off of him.

After pulling into their garage, Terry got out, grabbing his bag from the backseat before making his way to the passenger side and opening his wife’s door. Savannah leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to his lips before sliding out of the car, letting her body rub against his as her feet touched the ground. His eyes darkened with the promise of ruin as he looked down at her. With a cheeky little smile on her face, she turned to get the baby out of this carseat, rubbing her ass against her husband’s crotch as she lifted her sweet little baby into her arms. 

“You’re gonna get it.”

Savannah giggled softly, her hazel eyes looking up at him for a brief moment. She absolutely loved the look on his face right now. That hunger. That dark promise in his eyes. She was gonna be in for it the moment she didn’t have their son in her arms. With a firm smack to her ass, Terry turned and headed towards the door, unlocking it and holding it open for her to pass through. Elijah let out a soft yawn and she smiled.

“I’m gonna get him down for a nap…”

“Meet me in the bathroom. I need a shower.”

“Yes, Captain…”

He growled as he stalked off towards their bedroom. Savannah made her way into Elijah’s nursery before gently laying the little one down. He smiled sleepily up at her as she covered him with a blanket and grabbed his baby monitor.

“Sleep tight, little prince. Mommy and Daddy love you…” She leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek before heading towards her bedroom.

Steam from the shower was already seeping from underneath the door and she made her way into the bathroom. What she saw took her breath away. Her husband stood in the steaming hot shower, water sluicing over his powerful body. It seemed he’d put on even more muscle during his time overseas and she licked her lips at the sight. Terry had always had a phenomenal body, but now… this was him times a hundred. Even as quiet as she was, he seemed to sense her, turning his head to look at her. The way his eyes moved over her made her feel naked already and she bit her full bottom lip when she saw the look in his eyes. That look meant she was in for it. It meant he planned to make a mess of her the way only he could. Daddy was ready to play.

“Take your clothes off.”

His tone left no room for anything other than complete obedience and her hands, seemingly of their own volition, began to tug the hem of her sundress over her head. She stood before him in her lacy pink thong, teeth worrying her full bottom lip. Her eyes dropped to his heavy shaft, already thickening just for her. It jumped and so did the responding pulse in her pussy, already wet and aching for him. He reached down with one hand, stroking himself, and she licked her lips when she saw the drop of precum fall from his tip to the shower floor. What a waste…

“Everything.”

Savannah hooked her thumbs in the side of her thong, inching the sheer fabric down her long legs.

“Come here.”

Terry pushed the heavy glass shower door open, his eyes focused on his wife, his free hand fisted at his side. It had been so long without her. So long he’d been denied the pleasure of her sweet sanctuary. As she came closer, stepping into the shower, he wrapped his free arm around her, pulling her in close to his wet body. His wife nestled her face against the crook of his neck, tongue coming out to lick at the sweat on his skin. He pulled her in closer, tightening his arm around her waist while his other hand slid down to her round ass, gripping possessively. He had to remind himself to go slow… at first. It had been a while for them both and he wanted that sweet little pussy to take every inch of him. Her lips unerringly found his and a little moan escaped when she wrapped her arms around his neck. His tongue demanded entrance and she relented willingly. Both hands gripped the fleshy cheeks of her ass and Savannah let out a guttural moan as she felt her pussy spread in response to his grip. He backed up to the bench in their shower, pulling her with him. After he sat, he lifted one leg onto his shoulder, leaving her spread wide for him.

“Damn, mama…. That little pussy so pretty. Did she miss me?”

“So much, baby.”

“Yeah?”

Savannah shivered when she saw the way he was looking at her. 

“You have no idea. I can’t make my self cum like you do, baby.”

“Hmm….I’m home now. You don’t have to anymore.”

Terry leaned in, licking a thick strip from her slick entrance to her clit, pausing to teasingly suck at her throbbing little pearl. Savannah gasped softly as her husband slid a hand under her, holding her steady as he began to eat his fill. His entire mouth covered her from slit to clit and the sounds he made as he devoured her simultaneously make her nipples hard and her cheeks red. Her eyes were barely open as she watched him, groaning when he looked up at her as he laved her clit with the pad of his tongue. He pulled back to look at her pussy, grinning when he saw how strings of her slick and his saliva connected them. With one hand on her ass, holding her securely, he gently pushed a thick finger inside of her. 

“Oh fuck..”

Terry growled against her slick flesh as he pushed in, curling his finger to brush against her g-spot. Her hips bucked towards him and he smiled, tongue curling around her clit as he added another thick finger. Savannah’s head fell back and he looked up at her, watching the way her flat belly panted and clenched as he finger fucked her. God… he’d missed this. Before Savannah, he hadn’t truly known how good sex could be, how powerful. With her, he’d explored every kink and every desire. The safety he felt in her embrace was like no other and going without it for any length of time was literal torture. She was his perfect mate in every way, proven by the way she held his heart safe in her hands. From their very first time together, the sex had always been a mix of explosive and restorative, whether he was making sweet love to her or fucking her through the mattress. And right now, in this moment, Terry was in need of more than a little restoration.

Savannah’s eyes were halfway closed as she looked down at her husband, watching the way he was devouring her pussy and reminding her just why she missed him so much. His eyes were on hers as he dragged his tongue from her dripping entrance to her  clit, sucking hard enough to make her squeal. The hand gripping her ass cheek held her in place, not letting her run from his wicked tongue.

“Terry… oh fuck, baby.”

He growled against her pussy, quickening the pace of his fingers against her g spot.

“Cum in my mouth, mama. Let me taste it.”

Savannah felt the muscles in her belly clench and tighten as her orgasm loomed. Her head fell back and she wailed his name as her pussy gushed around his fingers. Terry eagerly lapped up her sweet juices, not letting a single drip go to waste. Her body shivered in his arms and he gently pulled her down into his lap.

“I got you, mama…”

Savannah slipped her arms around his neck, moaning softly as she tasted the remnants of her orgasm on his lips. The way his hands gripped her, anchoring her to him, made her feel like the safest woman in the world. Terry smoothed his hands up her back, drawing her in close for another kiss. Savannah moaned as he kissed her so passionately. Tasting the two of them mixed together was one of her favorite flavors.

“I need you inside me, baby. I need it so bad.”

“You missed me, princess?”

“You have no idea.”

She rocked her hips against him, feeling the steel hard length of him dragging along her inner thigh.

“You gonna make me beg for it?”

“Not tonight, baby girl,” he murmured, lifting her a bit and slotting his fat dick against her slick pussy. “I need you too bad right now.”

Savannah tightened her arms around his neck as he slowly began to lower her onto him, his nostrils flaring like a bull as the battering ram between his legs forced her open. 

“Keep your eyes on me, Sav.”

She whimpered softly as she took more of him, moaning loudly as he pushed halfway inside of her, giving her a moment to adjust to him. Terry groaned, gently rocking his hips up. Being inside her again after so long was pushing him to the edge and he fought to keep it slow for now. He gripped her wide hips, eyes on hers as he began to push deeper.

“Fuck, you feel so good, mama.”

Savannah tightened her arms around his neck as she rocked her hips experimentally against him, her body relenting and letting him inside. She ground her clit against his pubic bone, moaning loudly. Terry watched her through heavy lidded eyes, loving the sight of her riding him. Her full breasts swayed with every rock of her hips. His eyes drifted down to her flat belly and he remembered just how feral he’d been when she was pregnant. He hadn’t given her a moment of peace once she’d started showing. And Terry would be lying if he said he wasn’t itching to do it all over again. His wife had always been the most beautiful woman in the world to him, but pregnant? A pregnant Savannah had been glorious perfection. Glowing. Filled with the promise of life. A goddess. 

Terry held her close, leaning in to press his lips to hers. 

“I love you so much, baby,” he whispered against her lips.

“I love you, Terry.”

His hands gripped her ass, rocking her on top of him. He pressed up, making sure she was taking him all the way to the root. He grunted before leaning in and suckling a nipple into his mouth. 

“Mmm... careful. They’re full.”

His eyes met hers and he smiled around her sweet flesh. He gently hefted her heavy breast before sucking a bit harder, rewarded with a gush of her sweet milk. Savannah moaned his name as he drank from her, cradling his head in her hands. Ever since her milk had come in around the seventh month of her pregnancy, he’d been fascinated by her breasts and what they could do now. They’d gone from belonging solely to him to providing for the son he’d given her. When her milk first leaked on him while they were making love, Savannah had been absolutely mortified. Until her husband assured her that he loved her and her body…. And everything it was doing. He'd asked to taste it and been hooked ever since. While he always made sure there was enough for Elijah, he never turned down the opportunity to drink her sweet milk. A shiver went through her body as he switched nipples and the letdown had never felt so good. Savannah rocked her hips, loving the way her man felt inside of her. So fucking thick and long enough to kiss her cervix with every hard and deep thrust. His hands gripped her flesh, rocking her back and forth on top of him. 

“Fuck… you take me so well, mama. Every inch in that sweet little pussy.”

Savannah moaned softly, digging her nails into his broad back. His answering growl was met with a gush of liquid from her. Making love with her husband had always been something held dear to her heart, something sacred between them. From their very first time together, Savannah had been hooked on him. Terry made love with the same intensity that he gave to everything in his life. Whether they were having a wild fuck session in his truck or passionate love making sprawled across their bed, it always ended the same. With the both of them sprawled out, drained and unable to move. She cried out his name when the blunt head of his dick dragged across her g-spot. Terry’s grip on her hips tightened as she ground down on him, twisting and taking him deep. His eyes drifted over her body, loving everything he saw. From her full breasts that swayed softly with every rock of her hips. To the flat belly with the hint of a curve at the bottom of it from carrying their precious child. To the stretch marks that tracked along the curve of her hips, his favorite part of her body. She used to complain about the marks that had appeared during her sixth month of pregnancy until her husband made sure she knew how much he loved them. How much he loved her body. How fucking obsessed he was with her.

“Terryyyyy….”

The way she whined his name, her head lolling on her neck as she rocked her hips on him, made his his dick jump. He pushed deep, loving the way her tight little pussy clenched around him. 

“Make me cum, baby.”

Terry leaned in, swallowing her moans as he reached between them. Her hips jolted when his thumb firmly circled her swollen clit. Between the broad head of his shaft dragging along her g-spot with every deep thrust and his fingers on her clit, her body dove headlong towards pleasure. Savannah moaned his name, her hands tightening on his flesh as she rocked her hips.

“C’mon mama.. come on this dick.”

Terry grunted when he felt the familiar fluttering of his wife’s pussy around his dick. He kept going, wanting to make her orgasm as many times as she could. He growled, yanking her down hard against him. He could feel his balls draw up against his body as Savannah moaned his name, her pussy spasming around him. Her long nails dug into the muscles of his shoulder and she felt his dick jump before starting to paint her walls white. Terry panted softly as he held her close, his hips still rocking against her, drawing out both their orgasms. He nuzzled her neck, nipping the soft skin teasingly.

“Mmm… it’s so hot," she whimpered, whimpering as she felt his come pooling deep inside of her. “Terry!”

Savannah yelped his name as Terry pushed himself to his feet, still lodged inside of her. He held her securely in his arms as he reached over and flipped the shower off. 

“Think I can get one more out of you…”

He shifted her in his arms, cradling her bridal style as he walked into their bedroom. He tossed the towel he’d grabbed haphazardly on the bed before sitting her on shaky legs, turning her away from him. His big body wrapped around hers, holding her tight against him as he trailed soft kisses along her shoulder. She could feel him pulsing against her ass and had never been happier to be with a man who could come multiple times in a single session. The first time he’d done it, he’d worn her ass out. And it felt like Terry wanted a repeat of history today….

A large hand smoothed down her back, urging her to bend over the side of the bed. Savannah braced herself on her forearms, glancing back at her husband. He towered over her, his hand stroking the thick shaft that was slick with both their juices.

“You good, mama? Can you take more?”

“I’ll take whatever you give me, baby.”

The wicked grin on his face was the only warning she’d get. He leaned in, bending his knees a little to rub the wide head of his dick against her dripping entrance. His eyes were laser focused on her pussy as he began to push inside, giving her every inch with a slow deep thrust. His seed and her slick squelched out, lubing the way as he thrust deep. His hands gripped her waist, pulling her back into his thrusts, starting off slow and easy. 

“You look so fucking good, mama. So sexy taking all this dick.”

Savannah whimpered as he pressed in deep, his wide dick dragging along her walls in a way that made her legs shake. Terry's eyes drifted over her body, going from the sleek muscles in her back as they rippled beneath her skin, to her nipped in waist, to the wide hips he was currently gripping… down to the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Him, thick and covered in her cream, plunging deep into her sweet little pussy. Perfection. He let his head fall back as he grunted loudly, loving the way she clenched around him in response.

“Fuck, that's it baby. Squeeze me. I love that shit.”

"You're so deep, Daddy."

"That's right where you wanted me, isn’t it?” Terry grunted as he pressed deep, feeling the head of his dick just touching against her cervix. “Remind you who you belong to.” He leaned over her, bracing him arms on either side of her body. Savannah shivered as she felt him rest more of his body weight on top of her. There was nothing she loved more than the the feeling of being caged in by her big ass husband. When those big arms came around her, holding her in place, she knew she was in for it. Flat on her belly now, Terry was in complete control. Just how he liked it. He nudged her legs a bit wider and started to grind against her, giving her all of him. The familiar flutterings around his dick let Terry know his wife was close again. And he was determined to make up for all the time he'd lost with her. All the nights she’d had to go to bed not wrapped in his arms. All the days she’d spent alone, taking care of their little one. But she didn’t have to do it all alone anymore. Daddy was home now. Savannah mindlessly moaned his name as he thrust against her round ass, his arms wrapped tight around her. The constant jabbing against her g-spot set her off and she cried out as she came hard again, hot liquid squirting out of her. Terry grunted, pressing in deep when her body tried to push him out. He felt the tightening in his balls and knew his orgasm was imminent.

“Gonna cum in that pussy, Sav.”

“Yes, baby,” she whimpered, her voice weak after that last powerful orgasm.

“Mmmm… gonna fill my little pussy up. Put my daughter in your belly. That’s what you want?”

Savannah clawed at the bedsheets, her body trapped under her husband’s as he mercilessly fucked her, not giving her a moment to recover as he chased his own orgasm.

“Say it.”

“Cum inside me, baby. Pleeeeeease…”

Terry buried his face against the side of her neck, inhaling her scent as he thrust hard and deep one last time. He groaned her name as he started to come, his seed shooting from him in heavy, hard spurts. He ground himself against her as her perfect pussy milked him of his seed. Savannah shuddered as she felt him fill her to the brim and then some, his hot cum spilling out around him. Soft kisses to the back of her shoulder let her know her husband was back.. the animal inside of him having retreated for now. He tenderly nuzzled the side of her neck, breathing in the scent of her sweet sweat. He pushed himself up off of her, eyes on their joining as he slowly started to pull out of her. He would always love the sight of her pussy filled with him. One hand gripped her ass cheek, spreading her open so he could see the evidence of his ruin.

“I’ll be right back, angel..”

Savannah hummed softly in response, pulling her body further on the bed and rolling onto her back. Moments later, her gloriously naked husband walked back into the bedroom and gently began to clean her up, murmuring softly to her. Savannah’s eyes were low as she watched him, biting her bottom lip as he slowly wiped between her thighs. After tossing the damp rag in the hamper, he reached down, sliding his wife further up the bed before crawling in with her and pulling her close. Legs tangled together, heartbeats slowing down to a matching beat, they just held one another. 

“I’m so happy you’re home, baby.”

Terry smiled before pressing a kiss to her temple and tightening his arms around her.

“So am I, ladybug… so am I…”

Tag list: @rose-bliss | @hooliemooliedonutshawp | @alldthoughtsinmyhead | @thatonecarebear| @wolfiediaries | @alucardvaniax| @coyfundamentals | @444arianempress| @rosew1438| @lambbmal | @happilycoralbird | @astr0babez | @peachteasweet | @notapradagurl7 | @naughtynolly| @baddiefromtheastside| @plan3tch1ld| @marshmellowtotts | @cybercollectivechaos| @kinginwithbreezy-blog| @sexyblacksimper| @captain18c | @theonlypumpum| @wonderlustwrites| @passionfrvttt| @avoidthings| @catxo | @vinicinha| @enticingmelanin | @bouka24 | @susanhill | @mysticaleye5 | @blowmymbackout | @classygal88 | @nofiltermuse | @noirelyfe | @dimepiece09 | @babymelaninn | @annoyinglydarkblaze | @lenasunel | @laywritesalilbit | @wheresthecaptaincrunch | @cocomelonsfriend | @stormbrite1989 | @itsbeenaaron | @ambs-06 | @nahimjustfeelingit-writes | @sweet2krazee | @missharrythedreamer | @kelvinaaronlover | @big-button | @jasmynnn05 | @fullsoulalmondegg| @theblessedcap | @koosluvrgirl | @theogbadbitch | @Transparentphantomface | @lovemekaycee| @fakxmbj | @briannuh98 | @bubblysmilez2 | @nubiagurlll | @zillasvilla | @icestudy | @ticalsstallion | @visiblyloudsliver | @lvrgrl2 | @barbiezolanski | @motheroffae | @flaps200 | @pocketsizedpanther

[iam-whoyouwantmetobe]

Second Chance

Synopsis - Amira lived the life that most women wanted. She was a successful business owner, married to a successful CEO of a luxury hotel chain. The two lived in a beautiful mansion in Houston with their two dogs, Pickles and Peaches. From the outside they looked like the perfect family but they were far from it. One night, after her husband stands her up, Amira decides to go to a new club that had just opened up. She ends up meeting Smoke who ultimately decides he wants her all to himself, despite the rock on her finger.

Characters - Amira, Elias ‘Stack’, Elijah ‘Smoke’, Damien, Araya

Warnings - SMUT, angst, tension, jealousy, cursing, violence, Dom Smoke, Sub OC, cheating, miscarriage.

MINORS DNI

Part 2

-

Amira had long forgotten of her phone that was currently blowing up and her husband that was blowing it up. Her mind was focused on one thing and one thing only and that was Smoke.

He gently placed her on the bed as if she was the most delicate thing he’d ever laid his hands on. His mouth moves down from her lips to her neck and to her collarbones. Pulling back, Smoke stands at his full height, eyes locked in on her. “Strip.”

She didn’t even hesitate, didn’t bother to think twice. Amira stands up and slowly removes her dress, leaving her in nothing but a black lace thong.

“Damn, baby.” Smoke admired her for a while. The way her skin glowed with the moonlight, her nipples pebbled and pierced, her legs long and inviting. He almost felt hypnotized.

It wasn’t long until he was in nothing but his boxers. Amira traced his skin, his abs and happy trail. She looked at him like she was starving and Smoke couldn’t help but feel the same. Their lips meet again in a heated kiss as he backs her onto the mattress. His body towered over her as he placed kisses on her skin. Smoke licked and bit anywhere he pleased and she just let him, squirming under his weight.

He was teasing her, making her desperate.

“Please” She whispered as he reached her thighs, continuously leaving marks, getting closer and closer to where she wanted him the most.

“Please what? Talk to me.”

Her face burned with embarrassment, she’s never been one to talk much during sex. Damien and her were pretty vanilla when it came to it. Just one and done, and maybe if he was up to it, round two.

“Smoke pleaseeee” She whimpered as he bit the skin near her pelvis. He used his teeth to latch on to her thong and pull it down her legs before separating them so that he could see everything.

He groaned as he stared at her mound, glistening and wet. Just for him.

“We don’t do that round here baby. You gon learn to speak up and tell me what you want.” He placed a kiss to her clit causing her to flinch slightly.

“Please, eat my pussy.” Her heart raced and her body shook with need. At this point she wanted him so bad, she’d bark if he asked her to.

“There we go. Keep talking to me like that.” Smoke finally attached his lips to her clit, his tongue going in circles as he sucked lightly.

“Oh fuck” Amira moaned loudly, her hands gripping his grey satin sheets as her hips moved frantically. Smoke grabbed her to stop her from moving as he continued to swallow her. His tongue traveled down her pussy, pushing into her aching hole before pulling out and sucking on her lips. He repeated the cycle a few times before attaching his mouth back to her clit.

Smoke groaned at her taste, her arousal covering his beard and dripping down to the floor.

She was so sweet.

“Fuck, you taste good.” His fingers circled her entrance as his tongue slow danced with her pussy. Amira was a moaning and whimpering mess. Her legs shook and her back arched in pleasure. “Talk to me princess. How you feel?”

“F-feels so good. Please don’t stop.” Smoke pushed his index and middle finger into her. “Smokeeeee. Oh my god.” Amira’s eyes rolled to the back of her head and her hands flew to grip onto his arms. Her legs shook as he sped up, touching that spot that had her seeing stars.

“What happened? Hm? You gon cum for me?” The sounds of his fingers going in and out of her echoed throughout the room. “Shit baby. I could be here all day.”

“S-Smoke. I’m gonna cum.” Amira was panting, her back bent like a crescent moon and her mouth open wide.

“Ga head. Give it to me.” A sob escaped her lips as her body trembled in pleasure. Her arousal covered his fingers as he helped her ride her orgasm. Smoke was in a trance, moaning as he licked her up, making sure not to leave a single drop. He could already feel himself getting addicted.

Amira had her eyes closed while her body relaxed onto the bed when she felt Smoke on top of her, bringing his lips to hers. The two kissed like long lost lovers, their hands reaching to touch each others damp skin. Smoke pulled back enough to remove his boxers and then lined himself up at her entrance. Her legs were at his waist, still slightly trembling.

He watched her carefully, placing a kiss to her forehead and then one to her lips. “You good?”

She nodded. “Yea. I’m good.” Amira leaned up to kiss him, just to reassure him that she wanted this as bad as he did.

Smoke pushed in, stretching her tight hole slowly until he bottomed out. Amira gripped onto his bicep, her nails digging into his skin. Her mouth was wide open and her breathing was heavy. Tears stung her eyes from the pain that she was trying her hardest to ignore.

“It’s okay baby. I got you. You can take it.” Smoke placed kisses around her face before digging his head into her neck, sucking on her sweet spot to help ease the discomfort. He hadn’t moved, wouldn’t dare to until he was sure Amira could handle it. “Let me know when you need me.”

They stayed like that for a little bit until he heard her whisper. “I need you.” Smoke looked into her eyes as he slowly pulled back, leaving just the tip in, and then sinking back into her abyss. Amira whimpered, loudly, her hands moving to his back where she felt each ripple of his muscles as he gave her long, slow and deep strokes.

She was choking on her own moans, her spine was permanently bent as she scratched his back to try and keep her sanity.

“D-daddyyyyy.” Amira was drunk and dizzy. His dick was hitting places she’d forgotten existed. She looked down to watch her stomach bulge every time he entered her.

He was so deep.

She felt so full.

“Look how good you taking this dick, princess.” Smoke watched as she fell apart under him, another orgasm ripping through her. Amira sobbed and shook but Smoke just kept going on. “You want more?”

She nodded dumbly, too intoxicated to even speak. Smoke raised her legs to his shoulders, his hands intertwined with hers as he slammed into her repeatedly. He was growling in her ear, completely lost in the moment. Amira cried, her moans loud enough to reach the club they’d just left. Smoke grabbed her left foot, bringing it to his mouth and sucking on her toes while his strokes got faster. “Smoke… fuck wait.”

“Daddyyyyy!” She came again, this time drenching him and his expensive sheets. He smirked in satisfaction before pulling out. “Turn around. We ain’t done yet.”

Amira whimpered as she moved, her body was weak but was craving for more. She got on her stomach, ass perched up in the air, hands stretched out in front of her. Smoke groaned, moving his face to lick her cum that was still sliding out of her pussy. This time when he filled her up, he wasn’t as gentle.

Smoke was fucking her senseless and Amira couldn’t stop crying, the pleasure being too much for her that she tried to move away. He gripped her hips to keep her in place as he continued to thrust in and out of her. “Nah. Where the fuck you think you going? Take this dick baby.”

She moaned as the whites of her eyes made an appearance. She reached an arm back to try and push him off but Smoke just grabbed it and locked it onto her back. “Bet ya husband don’t make you feel this good. Right baby?” Amira moaned in response, her mind too foggy to form a proper sentence. Smoke’s hand slammed down on her ass cheek. “Answer me.”

“Noooo daddy. No he doesn’t.” Her orgasm came before she even had time to process it. She squirted with every thrust until her body went limp and she dropped onto his bed. But Smoke didn’t stop, he followed her down, moving her right leg up and bending it so that he’d get the perfect angle to dig deeper into her.

“Pleaseeeee.” She cried but she wasn’t sure if she was begging him to stop or keep going.

“This my fucking pussy now, you hear me Amira?” She nodded her head, speaking incoherently, attempting to say something but failing every time his dick touched her stomach. “Look at me.”

Amira turned her head, teary eyes meeting his lustful ones. “Open ya mouth.” She listened and stuck her tongue out, watching as Smoke spit into her mouth. He moaned as he watched her swallow, she could tell he was holding back but was slowly slipping. His strokes were becoming messy and short. “Cum inside of me, please daddy.” Smoke kissed her, her words being the final straw before he spilled his seed inside of her.

He placed kisses down her back before slowly pulling out then he gently flipped her body over, his mouth immediately attaching to her nipples. Amira let out soft sighs as her hands rubbed his head and face. Smoke pecked her shoulders before moving to lay on the bed. He gave her a look before mumbling a low “Ride me.”

Amira noticed that Smoke never asked, he demanded, and so with shaky legs, she got up and crawled to him. She bent her legs as she slowly sunk into him, his head fell back and a deep groan followed as Amira took him entirely.

“Pussy so good. That’s it baby. Good girl.” Smoke praised as she moved her body up and down his length.

“Daddyyyy, it’s too much.” Amira whined as her head landed softly on his shoulder, her thighs were burning but she kept going. Smoke slapped her ass before gripping it.

“You got it. Make me proud mama.”

Amira scratched Smoke’s shoulders as she felt herself tightening up. He pulled her face to his, sliding his tongue in her mouth as he started thrusting upwards.

“S-Smokeeeee.” Amira lifted herself up slightly as she squirted all over him. Smoke rubbed her clit causing her legs to shake profusely before she dropped down on top of him.

“Turn around.”

“I- I can’t. No more daddy.” Smoke rubbed her sides and back as he gently soothed her.

“Yes you can princess. Come on. Give daddy one more.” Amira looked at him with those big dark brown eyes, her makeup was ruined, streaks of mascara going down her face and her lashes in all different directions but he still found her beautiful. He wiped the tears from under her eyes before placing soft kisses to her cheeks.

“Kiss, please.” Amira had never felt this vulnerable before. All she wanted was him, his presence, his touch. She didn’t know what he was doing to her but she didn’t want it to stop. Smoke leaned in, placing his lips on hers as gently as possible.

Amira turned around, her back to his chest as her legs sat outside of his that were bent at the knee. Her head landed on his shoulder and her face cuddled up to his neck as he wrapped his arms around her waist, slowly filling her already sore pussy that somehow was still wet and needy.

Smoke thrusted into her at a steady pace as her moans became louder and louder. His hands moved to around her neck, slightly choking her as he sped up, chasing his high. “You’re gonna make me cum again. Shiiiiittt!!”

Amira’s body was sensitive from the multiple orgasms he had already given her, her mind completely gone as she practically drooled from pleasure. “Tell me this my pussy.”

“It’s yours. It’s yours. It’s all yours.” Smoke groaned as he slammed into her faster. Amira almost arched herself off of him as her juices went everywhere. He pulled her back, coming into her pussy that now twitched around his dick.

Gently laying Amira down next to him, Smoke placed kisses on her back and neck as he listened for her breathing to even out. “Don’t move.” He got out of bed and walked to his bathroom, cleaning himself off before grabbing a wash cloth for Amira that was half asleep at this point. After cleaning her up, he got her a bottle of water, making sure she drank enough off of it before moving her body to the couch so that he could change the sheets and then slipping into bed next to her and falling asleep.

-

“Fuck” Amira whispered as she slowly walked up to her house. She had woken up wrapped around Smoke and almost, almost, went back to sleep before she realized that she wasn’t home and Smoke wasn’t her husband and her actual husband was probably worried sick.

Smoke hadn’t even gotten the chance to make her breakfast, let alone offer to drive her home before she had gotten dressed, called an uber, gave him a goodbye kiss and left. Amira scrolled through the hundreds of notifications from Damien and her best friend, Araya.

“Your location been off all night. You better be alive, Amira or I’m gonna resurrect you and kill you my damn self.”

Amira giggled at Araya’s message, sending a quick “I’m alive” text to which she responded that Amira had some explaining to do and that she’ll be waiting.

Peaches and Pickles ran up to her as soon as she walked in the house. After some much needed love to the both of them, she slowly walked to the living room and then up the stairs. The master bedroom lights were on which meant Damien was home, she could hear the shower running and so she quickly made her way to the guest room.

After her shower, she put on the hoodie she stole burrowed from Smoke and draped it over her body. She grabbed what little makeup she had in her purse to cover the bruises on her neck and wrapped her sweated out hair into a bun.

Walking into their room, a gasp escaped her lips as her eyes land on the multiple bouquets of roses, gift bags and jewelers boxes spread out on their bed.

“Had fun?” Amira jumps at the sound of Damien’s voice.

“What are you talking about?” She rolls her eyes as she goes to gather the gifts she assumed he got her for missing their date.

“I come home to find that you wasn’t here and then you don’t answer me all fucking night.”

“Oh, just like how you do to me?” Damien snatches the Cartier bracelet out her hands. His face got close to hers before his eyes trailed down her body.

“Who’s fucking sweater is that? That shit smells like cologne.” Amira kept a poker face though her heart beat loudly in her chest.

“It’s Araya’s. I stayed with her last night, she gave me this from Joshua’s side of the closet.” Damien furrowed his eyebrows.

“You lying to me Amira?”He got closer to her, chest puffed out like he was gonna do something.

“No Damien, get out of my face .” He backed up, eyes narrowed and face stoic.

“Let me find out.”

“Find out what? You sound guilty ya damn self.” She scoffed, the tension rising in the room.

“Aight Mira. I’m going out before we both end up saying shit we don’t mean.”

“Ok.” Amira laid in bed pretending to be busy on her phone as Damien got dressed and left the house without another word.

-

Amira had just gotten back to her office after being with a client since the early hours of the morning, it was now 2PM and well past her lunch break. She was starving and tired but knew she had much more work to push through.

“Damn girl, you look like you’re glowing.” Monica eyed her boss, raising an eyebrow as she took in the visible light in her face compared to how drained she looked before.

Amira giggled. “Really? I haven’t even done anything different.” She stood in front of the mirror that sat by the reception desk, looking at her face that someone did look noticeably brighter. Her body and demeanor just looked more relaxed in general.

“Yessss girl. Damien must be keeping you happy, huh?” Amira almost flinched at the sound of her husband’s name. She gave Monica a fake smile and nodded.

“Yup.” She walked into her office, her mind immediately shifting towards Smoke. He had texted her to ask if she was okay but hadn’t heard from him since. Amira sighed loudly, unlocking her phone and scrolling through DoorDash to see if she could find something to eat.

The sound of her office phone ringing broke her out of the trance she had put herself in. “Yes Monica?”

“There’s a gentlemen out here, says he has an appointment with you but I don’t see it on your calendar.”

Amira looked through her notes to see if she had scheduled any meetings with anyone. “Um, I don’t think so. What’s his name?”

“Smoke.”

-

Amira shook her leg as she waiting for him to walk into her office and when he did her breath got caught in her throat. He had a huge bouquet of lilies and a smile covered in gold. “Hey princess.”

“Hi, oh my god.” She got up to grab the flowers from him, he wrapped his free hand around her waist, pulling her in for a hug. She tried her best to keep her composure as his scent invaded her nose. “How did you know I like lilies?” His thumb slowly moved up and down the small sliver of skin that peeked out from her blouse.

“You have a bunch of them tattooed on your back, figured that meant something.” She smiled up at him before slowly removing herself from his body.

“Do I even wanna know how you figured out where I work?” Amira sat behind her desk and watched as he looked around her baby blue office that was covered in plants, magazines, books and paintings.

“You told me your name, told me what you do for work. It wasn’t hard to find you after that, specially since you’re pretty famous.”

“I am not famous.” She rolled her eyes playfully. Smoke sat at the chair across from her. His eyes took her in.

“You’re on multiple magazine covers and got featured on Forbes 30 under 30. That’s pretty famous to me.” Amira bit her cheek, trying not to smile.

“What are you doing here?” She took the time to admire his outfit, he wore a black t-shirt, hugging his biceps just right. Baggy, denim jeans, some 1s and his gold chains. On his wrist sat a watch Amira knew all too well, audemar piquet, royal oak.

“I want you to decorate my house.”

Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped. “Wait, what?”

“I want you to come do what you do best, at my house.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea…” Smoke watched her fidget with the papers on her desk, a smirk displayed on his plump lips.

“And why not?”

“Because… I’m married and we- you know. We shouldn’t.” Amira bit her lip as she avoided his eyes that wouldn’t dare move away from her.

“I told you. I couldn’t care less that you’re married. Ya husband got a problem, tell him to come see me bout it.”

She ignored the way her thighs clenched and her hands shook, trying her hardest to remain professional. “He doesn’t- Okay. Listen I can’t help you. You’d have to go to somebody else or I can assign one of the other ladies to help you.”

“Nah. I told you I want you and I meant that shit.”

“Smoke-”

“Whatever you charge, I’ll triple it.”

Amira’s eyes nearly popped out her eye sockets. “Triple? You bullshitting.”

“Do I look like the type of man to bullshit, baby?”

No.

He definitely does not.

“Smoke I-I can’t. Damien is already suspecting..” Smoke stands up and slowly comes around the desk. “A-and if he finds out…”

He stands in front of her, reaching down to grab her hand. “Let him.” Amira’s chest rose and fell rapidly as Smoke leaned down, lips barely touching hers. “You telling me no, princess?”

“Smoke…” She whispers, though it sounded more like a moan. Though she barely knows this man, something about him was just so enticing.

Amira pressed their lips together as Smoke lightly chuckled. They kissed like they were bound to fall in love, tongues wrapped around each other, moving in perfect sync.

“Maybe I need to convince you a little more, hm?” He gets down on his knees in between Amira’s legs.

“Smoke, no. What are you doing? What if someone walks in, are you crazy?”

“Doors locked.” He mumbled as he pressed kisses on her bare thighs that were slightly covered by the skirt she wore. “You can be quiet for me, right baby?”

Amira nodded, too weak to fight him.

Smoke pulled her skirt up to her waist and pulled down the pink lace thong she wore, placing it in his pocket.

“Am I getting those back?” Smoke laughed against the flesh of her thigh before separating her legs.

“Fuck” Amari moaned as his tongue dug into her already soaked pussy. She covered her mouth with her hands and squeezed her eyes shut as Smoke devoured her. He made sure to take his time tasting everything she had to offer. He kissed, suck and bit anywhere he could and all Amira could do was take it, with teary eyes and shaky legs.

“I’m gonna cum.” Her eyes roll to the back of her head as a burst of pleasure fills her body.

“Mhm” Smoke moaned as he drank her arousal like he had a thirst he needed to quench and when Amira finally came down from her high, he made sure she got a taste of her own juices.

-

Amira was panicking but trying not to. It had been a few days since Smoke ate her out in her office and she was already craving him. His voice, his touch, his scent. She felt like she was going crazy.

Damien couldn’t understand why Amira was all of sudden so irritable around him, if he even breathed too loudly she was getting annoyed. The two had been arguing more than usual, it reached a point where he went ahead and scheduled another session with Dr. Miranda. As much as Amira pissed him off, he didn’t want to loose his wife and so he was determined to do anything to fix their issues. He could tell she was pulling away from him, her attention was on anything else but their relationship and he didn’t like that. He felt like he was loosing control of the situation and wanted to find a way to set them back on track.

Amira on the other hand, didn’t seem to care how Damien felt. She barely spoke during their session and barely even looked at him when they had gotten home.

Straightening the last strand of her hair, Amira quickly ran her fingers through it before tucking one side behind her ear. She exited the bathroom and headed straight to her walk in closer, ignoring Damien who shot daggers at the back of her head. They were supposed to be staying in that night and watch movies but Amira decided last minute she wanted to go out.

She grabbed her black and gold Giuseppe heels to match her mini strapless dress and black monogram LV purse.

“Where you going?” Damien watched her spray perfume on her skin, taking one last look in the full body mirror before walking towards the door.

“Out with Araya. Goodnight.”

-

“Bitch I been waiting to hear this one.” Amira laughs as Araya folds her hands under her chin, giving her undivided attention.

The two were sitting in a booth at a sushi bar that was always open late. They loved going there when they just needed good food, drinks and to gossip.

Araya and Amira had been friends since high school, the two met in the cheerleading team, Amira being captain and Araya co-captain. They had went their separate ways during college. Araya following her high school sweetheart who went on to become an NFL player and Amira following her passions.

“I… I think I fucked up…”

Araya raised an eyebrow. “Did you kill Damien?”

“What? Bitch no.”

“Did you stab him? Cut his dick off? Better yet, divorce him?” Amira rolled her eyes and sighed loudly.

“No.”

“Shit, then what the did you do?”

“I… Had sex with another man…”

Araya stayed quiet, staring at Amira.

“And then he came to my office and ate me out…”

Araya blinked and then smile. “HALLELUJAH!” Customers in the restaurant turned their heads towards the two women.

“Oh my fucking God, Araya stop. Shut up please.”

“AY, AY WAITRESS! BRING ME A BOTTLE OF YA BEST LIQUOR ,WE CELEBRATING TONIGHT!”

Amira covered her face in embarrassment as the waitress brought out a bottle with a sparkler.

“What are we celebrating ladies?” She opened a bottle Amira had never seen before, pouring some into two cups.

Araya smiled with all 32 as she raised her glass in the air. “Infidelity.”

-

[daniiwrites]

Provider: Chapter 2

Chapter 1

Pairing: Xavier Savage and Giselle Sebastian (FCs are Aaron Pierre & Lori Harvey)

Warnings: Minors DNI. No smut in this chapter but future chapters will be smut and kink filled. If that's not your jam, tap out now.

Summary: He's going to make her an offer she cant refuse.

Word Count: 4k.

“For starters, I demand discretion from you. It’s fine if you refer to me as your boyfriend or partner if people ask questions, but under no circumstances are you to go into explicit details of our arrangement.”

“Ok…” That was to be expected.

“I’ll expect access to you when I want it. There are events we’ll attend as a couple and I expect you to be at my side when I request it. You’ll have access to a credit card to buy whatever you need in order to look… and feel your best.”

GIselle glanced over at him as he spoke, fully planning on making this the best situation possible for HER.

“I want a checking account with just my name on it. You deposit a certain about every week.”

Xavier’s slow smile should have been her warning that he’d already known what she’d ask for. Sure, she was new to this, but Giselle wasn’t stupid. A credit card could be cut off at any time. But cold hard cash gave her a modicum of control.

“I’m sure we can make that happen.”

Xavier leveled his gaze on her once again before nodding to the small plate he’d fixed for her.

“You should eat something.”

He’d given her an eclectic little mix of everything he’d brought, from silver dollar pancakes to fresh fruit. She popped a strawberry in her mouth before pulling herself up onto one of her barstools and getting comfortable.

“Do you have an questions yet?”

“You mentioned kinks earlier?”

“I did.”

“What.. what kind of kinks?”

Xavier took a sip of his hot coffee before focusing his attention back on her.

“For starters, I’m a dominant and I enjoy a woman who trusts me enough to submit to me and let me control her pleasure.”

“You want me to let you boss me around?”

“No. I want you to eventually trust me enough to let me take care of you. Trust me enough to give you a pleasure that may border along the fine line of pain but know that I’d never truly hurt you. In a dominant/submissive relationship, the submissive holds all the power. I can only do what you allow. And yes, I completely understand your hesitance when it comes to physical intimacy with me, but I want to change your mind… I can show you how good it can be.”

Giselle nibbled nervously on her full bottom lip and the action made Xavier’s dick jump in his pants. She looked so incredibly sexy in this moment, bare faced and fresh, her soft hair in a cloud around her face. He’d had his share of beautiful women but this one… this one was special. He was unsure if it was just the taboo nature of wanting her, the salaciousness of asking a woman like her to be his sugar baby. Xavier wasn’t new to the BDSM scene in New York and had taken several submissive partners over the last few years, but Giselle would be his first sugar baby. As much as she was unsure about what to expect, so was he. 

“You’re an incredibly beautiful woman, Giselle. It should be no shock to you that I would want you the way I do.”

“You can have any woman you want.”

“You’re right. And the one I want is sitting right in front of me. All you have to do is agree to be mine, Giselle. Let me take care of you.”

“What if…what if we decide to do this and you figure out I’m not what you want?”

He tilted his head, looking over at her curiously.

“What do you mean?"

“What if you find out that I’m not the kind of woman you actually want? I’m not like the women you probably usually date. I have my own life. I have goals and things I want to accomplish. I don't wanna just be some pretty doll you leave on the shelf when you’re not in the mood to play.”

“I’m always gonna wanna play with you, Giselle.”

The deep growl in his voice made her nipples pebble behind the thin cotton of her pajama top, something Xavier didn’t fail to notice. His tongue darted out to wet his lips and he forced his gaze back to her wide eyed face. She was so fucking gorgeous. It was taking all his restraint to not drag her across the counter to him. But he knew that wouldn’t work with her. Seduction was the name of this game, not aggression. Giselle had to want him, crave him, desire him in a way she didn’t need to understand, just know that he would be the answer to all her desires. He alone could give her what her body and mind craved.

“Xavier…”

"I mean it, Giselle. One month. Call it a trial run. Give me one month to show you how good it can be.”

—

One month. 

And boy, was that month starting off with a bang. Xavier had left her apartment that morning with the contract unsigned and she could tell that was an olive branch for a man like him. A man like Xavier crossed all his t’s and dotted his i’s. Leaving himself open like this had to drive him crazy. But he was clearly determined to make use of every moment of the month she’d promised him.

Roses appeared at her front door the following morning. Dozens of them. Probably more roses than she’d ever been given in her lifetime. The second thing to arrive was an ornate invite to a gala that night. Tucked within the card was a black Amex. Within moments of delivery, she’d received a text from Xavier.

“Good morning, Giselle. I hope you slept well. Join me at the gala tonight. Use the Amex to buy a dress for tonight. Buy whatever you want. My driver is around to take you wherever you need to go. I’ll pick you up at 7.”

Giselle couldn’t help the little smile on her face as she texted him back, making sure to thank him for the beautiful flowers. Within moments, another text came through with contact details for his driver, William. With a little sigh, she headed back towards her room to get dressed. She had a lot to do and not a lot of time to get it done. First on her agenda was a gown for tonight. After finishing her skincare routine, she dressed comfortably in a pair of workout leggings and a matching top. Once she was dressed, she dialed William’s number.

“I’ll meet you downstairs in ten minutes, Miss.”

“Perfect… thank you.”

Giselle hummed softly as she made her way into the kitchen and poured some cold brew into one of her many coffee tumblrs. Her mind drifted to Xavier as she doctored her coffee up. She wondered what he was doing at this very moment. What his expectations were of her tonight. She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t excited… and a little bit nervous. Having him in her home, his energy so close to hers, had been intoxicating. Seeing the face she’d seen on the covers of multiple magazines up close and personal had made her feel somehow special even though she knew in her heart, she wasn’t special to him. She was a prize. An arrangement. 

Ten minutes later, she was making her way through early morning Manhattan traffic, on her way to one of her favorite Black owned boutiques. If it was one thing she’d missed, it was getting all dolled up for events. Not the uppity ones her father had demanded she go to, but the ones that meant something to her. The art galas. The charity ones her mother supported. 

“I’ll wait for you out front, Miss Sebastian.”

“Xavier doesn’t need you?"

“I have strict instructions to take you where ever you need to go today, Miss Sebastian. For however long you need me.”

Giselle tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. 

“Oh.. You can call me Giselle.”

His eyes met hers in the rearview mirror and he nodded. Giselle grabbed her purse and stepped out of the town car, a little smile on her face as she walked towards the boutique.

“What a lovely surprise…"

The store owner, Sabrina, was a beautiful Black woman with eyes that saw everything. It had been months since she'd seen her. Sabrina walked from behind he counter and hugged Giselle softly. 

"How have you been, beautiful?"

“You know... things have been a little crazy lately, but they’re looking up now. How about you?"

“Same. The world is a crazy place right now. What are you in the mood for today?”

“I'm attending the Sacred Hearts gala tonight and I’m looking for something… sexy but classy. I wanna impress my date but not look like I’m doing too much.”

“And this date… Is it business or pleasure?”

“A little of both.”

“I think I have the perfect dress for you. Just got it in a few days ago.”

—

Hours later, she’d gotten a fresh mani/pedi and her hair styled in a sleek updo with soft face framing curls. The dress Sabrina had picked out was perfect for the occasion. It was soft brown with cutouts around her abs, a high slit and showcased her back. Sexy without doing too much. Giselle paired with with a soft beat, keeping the colors neutral and letting her natural beauty shine through. Just as she was about to put her heels on, there was a knock at her door. 

If she'd thought Xavier was handsome before, it was nothing compared to him in a tuxedo. Holy. Shit. Giselle fought to not react like a horny teenager as she let her eyes drift over him, from head to toe. From his bespoke tuxedo down to his freshly shined shoes. Handsome wasn’t a word good enough to describe him in this moment. And he smelled absolutely divine, like sweet tobacco and a touch of coffee.

“You look so beautiful, Giselle…”

The blush that heated her cheeks was unexpected and she smiled back at him.

“Thank you, Xavier. You look pretty handsome yourself.”

“Thank you…These are for you.”

Distracted by that handsome face, she’d missed the bouquet of flowers in his hands. Yellow roses this time.

“They’re beautiful. I love them.” 

Giselle took the flowers and stepped back, making room for his big body to step inside.

“Come in. I’ve just got to put my shoes on.”

Xavier stepped in, unable to keep his eyes off of her. Giselle was a beautiful woman bare faced and in her pajamas. Now, all dolled up, body on display…. She was absolutely stunning. Every man in the vicinity was going to be jealous of him tonight. His eyes were glued to her as she sat in an arm chair, reaching for her scrappy gold heels. Before he could even think of what he was doing, he was kneeling in front of her, her shoe in his hand.

“Let me.”

Giselle felt her heart softly pounding in her chest as Xavier Savage knelt in front of her, his massive hands delicately slipping her heel on. He was so close. One little shift of her legs and he’d see right up her dress. And the little devil on her shoulder was loud. Giselle shifted, placing her other foot in his hands. She didn’t miss the way his eyes darkened and his breathing seemed to increase. Xavier’s eyes locked in on the quick flash of lace between her thighs as she shifted and it was going to be all he could think about for the rest of the night. He  took his time with her scrappy heel before pushing himself to his feet.

“Thank you, Xavier.”

“It's my pleasure.”

He helped her to her feet, letting his eyes drift over her body once again. She grabbed a small gold purse and they were soon on their way. As they made their way to the elevator in her building, Xavier was hyper aware of the woman at his side. The way she affected him was… curious. Beautiful women were nothing new for him, but this one made him feel some kind of way. Delicate and small, but with a backbone made of steel. He knew she was attracted to him, but she didn’t let that rule her choices. Once they reached the lobby, he held the door open for her. His town car was parked out front and William stood near the open door.  Xavier helped her in before climbing in behind her. New York City zipped by as they sped along towards the Pierre Hotel. 

“How was your day? Busy?”

Xavier tore his attention from her long caramel legs and raised his eyes to hers, a smile on his face.

“No busier than usual. It started a little earlier than I’d like, but that's the nature of being a business owner. What about you?”

“I had a great day,” she said with a little smile. “A man sent more flowers than I’ve ever gotten in my life to my door this morning.”

“Oh wow. You must be something special.”

“I guess he thinks so.”

“I’d wager… he knows it,” he said, leveling her with a look. “Tell me more about yourself, Giselle.. Tell me something I can’t find in a background search. Hopes, dreams… goals. What do you want in life?”

"Right now… I’d love to teach. I love kids and teaching them is something I’ve wanted to do since I was a kid myself.”

“That’s very noble of you.”

Giselle chuckled and shook her head.

“It’s not. I had several excellent teachers in my life and I understand how important it is for someone to believe in you. My grandfather taught for many years while he was starting his business. He taught well into his seventies because he loved it so much. I want to be what he was to so many of his students, what my teachers were to me.”

“You know, you surprise me, Giselle.”

“Thought I was just pretty but stupid?”

“No, I’m well aware of how intelligent you are. But I admit… I had you pegged for a rich girl who’d just marry well and volunteer her time at whatever charities you’re interested in. Clearly, I was wrong. And I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize. I’m well aware of… how people view women like me.”

Giselle felt the weight of his stare even under the dimmed interior of the car. 

“I admire you, you know? I love a woman who does what she wants despite what the rest of us plebeians think. If I can be of any assistance, please let me know.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

The car slowed to a stop and Xavier glanced out the window.

“You ready for this?”

“I think so…”

“Just follow my lead. I’ll take good care of you. I promise.” 

The back door opened and flashbulbs immediately went off the moment Xavier unfolded his big body from the backseat. He leaned back in to offer her his hand, a smile on his face. Despite having attended galas like this her whole life, it was different attending on the arm of a man like Xavier. She held tight to his hand as she stepped out, taking a deep breath as photographers immediately began calling to Xavier. He ignored them all, his attention on her as he guided them to the red carpet. Xavier kept her close, in the shelter of his body as he stopped briefly for photos. Giselle glanced up at him, taking a moment to just admire how handsome he was. She leaned into his body, resting a hand on his chest as she posed for the cameras. Might as well give them a show. His fingers tightened around the gentle curve of her waist and for a brief moment, his eyes met hers. He dipped his head, whispering in her ear.

“Everyone sees how good we look together.”

Giselle smirked, letting him guide her inside after giving the photographers what they wanted. As they made their way into the grand ballroom, a waiter offered them both a glass of champagne. 

“Is this a regular charity you support?”

“It is. They donate to inner city schools arts programs.”

Giselle peered up at him.

“I’ve been donating to this charity, Giselle…. Before I knew about you.”

“Mmhmm.”

He chuckled softly and shook his head.

“I’m serious. Ask anyone.”

“You like kids?”

“I love kids. And I’m well aware of how important the arts are in schools. Does that surprise you?”

“A little. You strike me as the eternal bachelor type.”

“Nah… I want a wife. Kids. Lots of kids actually. Just haven’t found the right woman yet.”

Giselle hid her look of surprise behind her champagne glass, using the moment to take another sip.

“You’re a fascinating one, Mr. Savage.”

“Am I?”

“Very. You’re hard to figure out.”

“I dont think so… I think if you pay attention, I’m actually a pretty open book. You’ll see.”

“Will I?”

“One month, Giselle. You promised me a month.”

Xavier didn’t miss the little smirk on her full lips.

“You’ll get your month. Don’t worry.”

Giselle was given a moment’s respite to gather her thoughts when an older gentleman approached Xavier. She didn’t miss the approving look he gave her after being introduced as Xavier’s date. After they were alone again, she turned to Xavier.

“What’s the right woman?”

Xavier chuckled softly before offering her his hand.

“Dance with me.”

The way he moved, so confident and sure of himself, was incredibly sexy to her. For a man of his size, he moved a lot like a dancer versus a football player, silent and sleek, but commanding attention at every turn. When he slipped his arms around her waist and pulled her in close, Giselle caught a whiff of his cologne. Of course he smelled amazing. His hands made a home along her nipped in waist, against her bare skin, gripping like she already belonged to him. Those beautiful eyes were already on her face when she tilted her head up to look at him.

“The right woman is intelligent and feisty. She isn’t afraid to call me on my bullshit but knows how to act in public. She’s confident. Owns the room. Knows I would kneel at her feet if asked. The right woman… is the sexiest woman I’ve ever seen. Able to turn me on with just a look or touch. She’s obviously beautiful but doesn’t rest on her beauty. There’s a brain in that pretty little head and she uses it to make both the world and my life better. She’s kind. Generous. Self aware but unafraid to laugh at herself. The right woman not only embraces my kinks but shares hers with me. Trusts me with not just her body but her pleasure… her soul. The right woman knows I’d keep all the parts of her safe. The right woman would reign at my side, always deeply aware that for her, I’d burn this city down if it made her happy.”

The breath hitched in her throat and Giselle broke the intense eye contact, hiding her face against his chest. His hand came up to cradle the back of her head, a little smile on his face as he dipped his head to press a tender kiss to her temple. He led them around the dance floor, loving the way her slim body fit so perfectly in his arms. Giselle wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders, having gathered herself enough to meet his gaze.

“And do you think the right woman is going to feel some kind of way about my current position in your life?”

The right side of his mouth tilted up in a curious smile.

“I guess we’ll find out. You know…. You really do look absolutely stunning, Giselle. I’m the envy of every man in here.”

Giselle chuckled softly.

“I’m quite used to being looked at but tonight. They look like they’d kill to be me just to be this close to you.”

“You lucky man, you.”

Xavier winked at her. The song ended and he guided her off the dance floor with a possessive hand on her lower back.

“Would you like a cocktail?”

“Mmm. I would actually.”

The attention was on Xavier the moment he approached the ornate bar, casually leaning his big body against the side.

“What can I get you, Mr. Savage?”

“I’ll take a bourbon on the rocks and…”

When he turned his eyes on her, Giselle felt the blush in her cheeks. All it really took was him looking at her like that and she felt like a flustered teenage girl on her very first date.

“I’d love an old-fashioned.”

The bartender flashed her a smile before beginning to prepare their cocktails. Giselle turned her attention back to Xavier, enjoying her view.

“I have to say, I love it when you look at me like that.”

“I’m sure you already know how nice the view is.”

Xavier chuckled softly before straightening to his full height. The little sigh she let out made him smile even harder. 

“Always nice to be appreciated by a woman as beautiful as you are, Giselle.”

“You have women fawning over you all the time.”

“Not women like you.”

“Women like me?”

“You already know you’re a goddess amongst mere mortals.”

“You just like flattering me.”

“Is it flattery if it’s the truth?”

Giselle tucked a loose curl behind her ear. The man had a way with words…. She’d admit that. He was making it harder and harder for her to find fault with his illicit proposition. Because she could very easily get used to this. Attending beautiful galas on the arm of such a handsome man. Being fawned over. Being taken care of. Would it really be so bad??

“What’s going on in that pretty little head?”

“Just... imagining.”

“Can I ask what about?”

“Being yours.”

His nostrils flared slightly and he stepped in closer, invading her personal space. It was something he did often and she found herself liking it more and more. 

“Have you given any more thought to my offer?” He asked quietly.

“Of course I have. I’ve given it lots of thought.” 

“What’s holding you back?”

“Me mostly.”

The bartender quietly sat their drinks down in front of them before disappearing to the other end of the bar, giving them their privacy.

“What are you worried about?”

“How I’m going to feel about myself after this.”

Xavier picked up his drink, taking a sip of the chilled bourbon.

“You’re not doing anything wrong, Giselle. Neither of us are. Just two consenting adults enjoying each other’s company.”

Giselle smirked and took a big sip of her cocktail, enjoying the burn all the way down to her belly. She raised her eyes to his face, taking in his expression. She didn’t miss the flash of hunger in his eyes when he looked at her. He’d never stepped back and she took a deep breath of his cologne. There was something he was wearing, either his cologne or soap, that had a vanilla note to it that she loved. The moment was interrupted by the heavy scent of flowers. A flash of irritation crossed his face before he schooled his features. The woman was beautiful, in a cruel way, her features set in a harsh mask as she stopped in front of the couple, standing a bit too close to Xavier. 

“Good evening, Fatima.”

“Xavier… Who’s your guest? New assistant?”

Giselle felt herself bristle on the inside when the woman blatantly disrespected her. Ever the classy woman, she smiled, leaning her body into Xavier’s side a bit more. His free hand came around her back, his fingers gripping her bare waist and pulling her in against his strong body. Before Xavier could answer, she answered for him, the words coming out before she could sensor them.

“It’s nice to meet you. I’m Giselle, Xavier’s girlfriend.” 

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[mzv11]

Run It Back 22

Characters: Roman Reigns x Charlina Davis-Ali

Warning: Language, Smut & Fluff

Word Count: 3.5K

A/N: The Endgame is upon us. Thank y'all so much for reading.

Previous Chapter

“Jojo, baby you gotta go work now.” Charli grumbled as Joe’s head rested on her shoulder. He grumbled softly before his eyes fluttered open. He wasn’t dreaming, Charli was cuddled up on the couch in his bus with his children sleeping peacefully. Mina had crawled into her lap and Naveen was tucked under her right arm. “You look so in your element. I wanna stay here with y’all.” He pouted. “Baby, it’s like 15 minutes. 10 of which is you walking down the ramp and peacocking around with the belt! Go be the Head Baddie and then come back and be Daddy.” Charli smiled, gesturing to Mina asleep in her lap. Joe scooped Naveen up and carried him to the bedroom in the back. Charli followed with Mina in her arms. “You’re really good with them.” he smiled as she pulled off their shoes. “I like to think that I would’ve been a decent mom.” Charli shrugged as she closed the bedroom door. “You say that like it’s too late. I keep telling you that whenever you’re ready to be a mama, I got you.” Joe laughed, his arm wrapping around her neck and pulling her close. “Go to work.” she laughed as his hand squeezed her ass. “Ok, I’m going. Love you.” Joe smiled as he kissed her cheek and went to do what he does best: ooze aura.

Charli had the TV tuned in to Smackdown and the gorilla feeds tethered to her ipad. They had already talked about his feelings on dropping the belt to Cody. He didn’t like it but he wanted to branch out and do other things. Joe didn’t want to be one of those guys that you had to beg to leave. They missed him when he was gone, always did. Ratings fell and the fans chanted for him. They got online and pleaded for their Tribal Chief to return. This year, he was taking the whole summer off. 

On the short walk from Gorilla back to the bus, The Tribal Chief was stripped away. Joe walked into the bus to see Charli sitting on her laptop. “Hey, baby.” He smiled as he kicked his shoes off and plopped down next to her. “Hey, cutie. What time is the car coming? My Tribal Chief needs his rest. He’s got a big day tomorrow.” Charli smiled as she closed her laptop, putting it on the table before she wrapped her arms around him. He snuggled into her deeper, letting her pull the black hair tie from his hair. “You’re such a baby.” She laughed. “Yep. Sure am. I have an idea, you should come stay in my suite tonight. We can order breakfast in the morning.” He pleaded. “Sure. I’ll have to go back to my suite to get ready but I’ll stay the night…if that’s what you want.” Charli smiled. She knew that he wanted her to stay, cuz that’s what she wanted. 

The next morning, Charli woke to the feel of Joe’s hands roaming across her body, paying special attention to her ass. “What are you doing?” She grumbled. “Foreplay.” He laughed softly. “No, nuh uh. The kids are asleep across the hall.” She laughed. “This is the best time. We have a hard out of 6:30.” Joe laughed. “You definitely have it hard. All that for me, big boy?” She teased. “Of course it is.” Joe growled as he pushed Charli over onto her back. He crawled between her thighs, planting hot kisses on her neck. “Just pull ‘em to the side. Might be a photo finish.” He laughed as he pulled his boxers down to his thighs. 

“Goddamn.” He groaned as he pushed deep into her warmth. Charli moaned softly, it had been weeks and she missed the feeling of being stretched by him. “Not too loud.” He laughed, covering her mouth with his so her moans slid down his throat. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him in deeper. Joe was used to doing all the work at times like these. “I love you.” Charli moaned softly against his ear as her hips rolled to meet his. “I’m close. Are you?” He breathed deeply. “I can be.” She smiled, winking as she exposed her neck to him. “Oh shit.” He laughed as he wrapped his hand around her throat. A smile formed on her pouty lips as her heart pounded against her chest. With a low groan into the darkness of the room, Joe exploded into her. Charli’s hands pulled him down to her, his tongue sliding across hers. The warmth of her orgasm spread across her core and into her limbs. He focused his strokes as her walls started to clench around him. Her body shook, a strangled whimper trickling from her throat as her climax destroyed her.

A satisfied smile tugged on Joe’s lips as he watched a few tears rolled down her cheeks. “You know I love you.” He smiled softly as he put their clothing back into place. Joe pulled Charli into his arms, his lips kissing hers softly. “How was Dubai?” He asked. “Busy. You were on to something with this part time shit. Part time CEO is the best. Hella board meetings but nothing I hadn’t been doing before Deem passed. That man preferred to stay down in R&D tinkering like Tony Stark. They renamed the lab after him, which is sweet. Had dinner with my brother-in-law…mad awkward. Still wants to get married. You might have to fight him. He ain’t got hands.” She laughed. “I’m not worried about him. If you wanted to marry him, you would’ve. Right?” Joe smiled. Before Charli could respond, the bedroom door crept open.

“With cuddle time to spare.” Joe laughed. “Daddy…are you still sleeping? It’s time for breakfast!” Mina squealed as she jumped into the bed. Naveen pulled the curtains open, flooding the room with sunlight. “Dad, were you kissing your girlfriend?” He asked. “Maybe.” Joe laughed, kissing Charli. “Eww!” Naveen laughed. “Ok, what’s for breakfast? I’m hungry.” Charli grumbled. “I want chocolate chip panacakes. Veen likes bwueberrie panacakes. Daddy likes eggs and bacon and panacakes and a smoothie and orange juice and brown bean water.” Mina laughed as she wiggled between Joe and Charli. “Daddy’s got a big appetite.” Charli laughed. “What’s a appetite?” Naveen asked. “It’s how much you eat at one time.” Charli explained. “Daddy has a big appetite.” Mina giggled as she grabbed the tv remote.

“Breakfast will be here in 20 minutes.” Joe yawned. “You ordered for me?” Charli asked. “Mmm hmm. Egg white omelette with white cheddar, onion, spinach and sausage and brioche French toast with berries. Mint tea and orange juice.” Joe smiled as Naveen crawled onto his back. If this was going to be the new normal, maybe dropping the belt wouldn’t be so bad after all.

“Jamie’s keeping an eye on the kids. I got her a sweet setup inside the stadium. There’s couches and tvs and snacks, it’s pretty nice. They wanted to stay with Ms. Charli but I told them that she has to work just like I do. Girl, I don’t know how you’re gonna go back to your house and we’re gonna go back to ours.” Joe laughed as he found Charli sitting at a table in catering, both phones spread out on the table. “Daddy will have to invite me over for a sleepover. We can put them to bed and then you can put me through the mattress. We’ll figure it out.” She smiled, finally looking up from her work. Joe’s look was somewhere between being Jojo and being Roman Reigns. The iconic black cargos were paired with red socks and Jordan slides and his favorite Jordan hoodie. His manbun was messy from playing with Naveen and Jules. He was wearing his glasses, she loved when he wore his glasses. “You need anything from me? I’m about to drop in on DJ and then get in my zone.” Joe asked. “I need you to put on a good show. Make them forget how cold it is. Open air stadium in April on the East Coast was a terrible idea but what do I know? This shit was the old man’s idea cuz ‘Philadelphia is a great American city.’ And it’s been nice but maybe Summerslam would’ve been a better option. We could’ve worked something out with the NFL.” Charli laughed. Joe’s deep laugh erupted at her raspy Vince impression. 

“Last time I get to do this before the chaos starts.” Joe smiled as he pulled Charli into a kiss. “Oh yeah, can’t have Roman Reigns kissing the boss. Although, you did way more than that this morning. Heaven forbid they think I have a favorite.” Charli giggled. “Yep, gonna do it again tonight and in the morning. Ok…I’m going before I have to wrestle with a branch in my pants.” He joked. “Go do your thing. I’ll catch you in Gorilla.” she smiled as he walked away. “Lord…he so fine.” She mumbled as she finished up her emails.

After the Night 1 Main Event

Joe walked back through the curtains followed by Paul and Dwayne. His eyes scanned the room for Charli. A smile tugged on his lips as she appeared in the doorway with Stephanie McMahon. He gravitated towards her like she was a giant magnet. “My Tribal Chief…you did well.” She smiled as she handed him his shirt. “Anything for my Queen.” He smiled as his arm slid around her waist. “I love this fluffy hair look on you. My sweet Leati.” She smiled as she brushed his hair back from his face. “Daddy’s gotta go do press.” He smiled as he kissed her lips, grabbed the hair tie from her wrist and walked away. He always left her feeling warm, but nothing like this. Him being this bold in public was something she needed to get used to.

“Daddy!” Mina squealed as she ran up to Joe as soon as he came out of the press room. He scooped her up immediately. “Bloodine Rules is gonna be awesome!” Naveen smiled as he gave Joe a fist bump. “Want one more night with the golden baby?” Paul asked. “Paulie, I’ve got my hands full here. You’ll miss it more than I will.” Joe teased as he gestured to Charli walking their way. “Ohhh…wow kid. Major upgrade. Mrs. Ali, good evening.” Paul smiled. “Mr. Heyman…call me Charli.” she smiled, he nodded. “Uncle Paulie…that’s dad’s girlfriend. He kissed her at breakfast this morning.” Naveen giggled. “You don’t have to tell everyone.” Joe teased. “Kid, let me tell ya something. One of the last conversations I had with Sika before he passed…he said that he wished that he had just let you do things on your own terms. That included staying married so young, said that it would’ve centered you more. Haven’t seen you smile like this in a while, Joe.” Paul smiled. “Thanks, Paul. I’m in a good place. See ya in the morning.” Joe smiled. “Goodnight Wiseman.” Charli smiled as Joe grabbed her hand before walking off. Joe let out a long sigh as they walked. She knew Paul talking about his last talk with Sika had hit Joe harder than he was letting on. “You ok, baby?” she asked. “Yeah, I’m ok. Let’s go home.” Joe shrugged as he stopped to help the kids get their coats on. 

The next night, the crowd roared as Roman ate the pin at the hands of Cody Rhodes. The Reign of Roman was over. It had been the longest 4 years. Covid, losing his father, maintaining his health with a compromised immune system, having another baby, a back injury, drama with Kerri. He was exhausted. Joe rolled out of the ring and slowly made his way up this long ass ramp. He felt so light but had to maintain heaviness for the cameras. Roman Reigns without a belt could be a very dangerous man. He was excited about his next character arc. “You killed it, Kid.” Paul smiled as they hugged at the top of the ramp. “How’s it feel?” Stephanie McMahon asked as he appeared through the curtains. “Feels…different.” Joe shrugged, his eyes scanning the room for Charli. She was the one bright spot about this whole reign. Joe really hoped that she was ready for him to be in her back pocket constantly. “Go home, relax by the pool. Take a vacation. Enjoy life, we’ll talk in a few weeks.” Triple H smiled as he hugged his former champion. “I most definitely will be relaxing. These past few months have been brutal.” Joe yawned. Joe left quietly as he heard the new champion making his way up the ramp.

Joe pushed through the curtains and out into the main hallway. “Big Uce, you had an amazing run. Go lay up with your kids and your lady.” Josh smiled as he hugged his cousin. “That’s shit you ain’t got to tell me twice.” Joe laughed as he grabbed his shirt and walked away. He just needed to be in her arms, unbothered for the next 30-60 seconds and he’d be fine. “Just make to the bus.” he told himself. 

“Let me know if you want us to take the kids tonight.” Jamie teased as they waited in the room Joe had set up for their kids. “No, they need to be with him too. His reign was their reign too. I’m trying to talk him into taking them on a proper vacation.” Charli sighed as she watched the kids play. Mina sat on the couch in her red & black tutu skirt with her red & black Jordans pouting. “What’s wrong Mina?” Jamie asked. “Daddy’s not champion anymore and I’m sad.” she pouted, starting to cry. “Don’t cry, Mina. Now Daddy can stay home with us and not have to leave so much.” Naveen smiled as he hugged his sister.

“Joe, wait up.” a voice called from the Gorilla. Joe finished putting his hair into a bun before turning around to see Cody standing with the belt Joe made famous wrapped around his waist. “You should be celebrating with your family.” Joe grumbled. “I will. Just wanted to say thank you. We killed it out there. You hit that Cross Rhodes perfectly.” he smiled. “I told you, that shit ain’t beatin’ nobody. You got the rock now, run with it. I’m going on vacation.” Joe smiled. “Yeah, heard that you were putin’ the moves on Boss Lady. She’s bad…don’t fumble it dawg.” Cody laughed. “Did that once. Learned my lesson.” Joe nodded as he turned to walk away. In a few weeks, there was already a meeting planned to discuss his return at Summerslam and a future match with Cody.

Joe opened the door to the tv room, Mina ran over to him with tears in her eyes. “Don’t cry Princess. I have to let someone be champion now. It’s ok.” he smiled as he scooped her into his arms. “No more tears ok?” he kissed her forehead. “Ok. Are you still Tribal Chief?” she asked. “Of course. That’s not changing.” Joe smiled. “Dad! That Cross Rhodes was amazing! You really did it!” Naveen laughed as he ran to hug him. “I think he should’ve tried to Cody Cutter…but that’s just me.” Charli teased. “Maybe next time.” Joe laughed. “You did an amazing job, Bestie.” Jamie smiled as she hugged him and took Mina from his arms. “Thank you.” Joe spoke as he turned to Charli, his heart racing. “I’m so proud of you, Jojo.” she smiled as she wrapped her arms around his massive frame. He buried his face into her neck, crying softly. “I’m so tired.” he sighed. 

Day One was only hard because of the media coverage. Joe hopped on the jet with Charli, Jon, Jamie and the kids and went home to the warmth of South Florida. “Are you coming to stay at our house?” Naveen asked as the plane landed at the private airport. “Just tonight. Then I’ll go back to my house.” Charli said, his little brown eyes filled with tears so quick. “No! We want you to stay at our house with us and Daddy. Forever. Don’t leave us.” He cried as he hugged her tight. Jamie tapped Jon and caught him up on the scene unfolding before him. “Uh oh.” He laughed. 

“I’ll make you a deal, I stay at your house tonight and then if you’re on your best behavior…Daddy can bring you to my house and we can have a sleepover. I’ll buy us matching pajamas and we can make breakfast and have a pool day. How’s that sound?” Charli suggested. His abandonment issues broke her heart and she’d cry about it later. His eyes lit up. “Can I ask Dad?” He smiled as he got his backpack and tablet. Charli nodded and smiled as he bounced away to ask his Dad. “Dad?! If we’re on our best behavior, can we go to a sleepover at Ms. Charli’s house? Please?!” He pleaded. “We’ll see.”

A few months later

“Are we doing the right thing? Moving in together? Is it too soon?” Joe sighed as they drove towards the stadium. “Baby, you’ve spent more time at my house than you’ve spent at yours since we got back from Samoa. The kids never want to leave. Everybody’s sad when we aren’t together…even our grown asses!” Charli laughed, kissing his hand as he looked out the tinted window. “I know. When I tell you that you’re home, I thought that I was only talking about myself specifically but apparently…you’re home for the kids too.” Joe smiled. “They’ve been a lot of fun.” she smiled. “If we get married, I’d like for you to adopt them.” Joe spoke. “Whoa. That’s a pretty big step, Jojo.” she laughed. “It would really mean a lot to me.” he smiled. “You sure you want me? I’ve been married twice.” she laughed. “I’ll always want you. You could be married and divorced a thousand times and I’m still gone be standing in line. You’re the only woman I want to be married to…ever.” Joe smiled as he kissed her softly. It was quick but filled with an eternal longing.

“Not to be all in your business but…there’s something different about you lately.” Joe yawned. “Good different or bad different?” Charli grumbled. “Are you pregnant?” He asked. “Not that I’m aware of. Why would you say that?!” She laughed. “Charli, you put off the thickest ‘Fuck Me’ pheromones when you ovulate. It’s like a goddamn dinner bell for my thirsty ass! We go feral for each other! Lately, sex has been very sensual & ritualistic. I never want it to end, whereas before I’d want it multiple times…am I making sense?” Joe laughed. “Well, shit. I thought that was just us falling more in love with each other. But…this is also a likely option.” Charli shrugged before asking the driver to stop at the nearest Walgreens. Ten minutes and $60 later, Charli climbed back into the black truck with a few bags. Plain M&M’s for Shawn the driver, peanut M&M’s, chips, salsa for Charli, glacier cherry Gatorade for Joe…and the much needed pregnancy test. “You know there’s food on the bus.” Joe laughed. “Is there chips and salsa on the bus? Probably not! Damn, I should’ve gotten queso too.” Charli pouted. “Don’t worry baby, I’ll find you some queso.” Joe laughed as they turned into the underground parking garage.

Charli sat down as soon as they got on the famous black & red bus that drove in well before sunrise to not surprise the return of the Tribal Chief. “Nuh uh. You got a stick to pee on.” Joe teased. “We can do it after the show. I don’t want you either excited or disappointed.” she sighed. “Disappointed? I’d never be disappointed with you for that. If it’s negative…we try again, if you want. If it’s positive, we can do it to celebrate. Either way…I’m getting in those pants tonight.” Joe laughed as he handed her the box. “Later.” She laughed. “If I get you queso…how about then?” Joe pleaded. “You are relentless. Ok, make the call and I’ll pee on the stick.” Charli laughed as she got up and retreated into the bathroom.

Charli peed on the applicator and set a timer on her phone. Joe ordered queso, warm chips, and other nacho ingredients from catering. Charli’s heart raced as she stared at the stick on the bathroom counter. “This can’t be happening. This is crazy.” she sighed. When she talked to Joe at the merger party, a year ago…she never thought that this is how things would be. After losing Khadeem, she didn’t think she’d be this happy again. Then along came Joe. “Charlizard…awfully quiet in there. You already? Freaking out?” Joe asked. She opened the door. “I can’t move. I’m nervous.” she laughed. “Don’t be. We’ll be awesome parents.” Joe smiled as he wrapped his arms around her. There was a knock on the door just as the timer went off. “That’s your queso.” Joe smiled as he nudged her towards the door. Charli grabbed the box of food and turned around to see Joe holding the stick. “What’s it say?” She asked. “I haven’t looked. I waited.” Joe smiled. He didn’t think that seeing Charli last year would lead to this, but it felt perfect.

Joe sat down and pulled Charli down onto his lap. “We look on three. 1…2…3.” Joe spoke as they both opened their eyes.

Two pink lines.

@wrestlingprincess80 @fearlesschimera @brie-mode-activated @sayyestoheav3nn @expert-texpert @cyberdejos2 @po3ticb3auty @sweetpeainadysfunctionalpod @chocovibesonly @alichesmi @lov3rla03 @christinabae @trippinsorrows @sassginaswanmills @becauseimswagman1 @adoreesun @jstarr86 @trippiexlove @tribalchiefreigns @purplementalitybluebird @disc0fairy @vebner37 @annyanse @acknowledge-reigns @naomi-xxi @potatosackk @deepestbluestworld @becauseimswagman1

[bamakakechick]

This big MF just put Roman’s shoes around Heymans neck.

[trippinsorrows]

The RoSoverse refers to a collection of three books that cover the love story of the main protagonists, Roman and Solana. It's a mafia centered love story with the arranged marriage trope and set again the backdrop of a fictionalized version of Gotham, while being heavily influenced by the Bloodline. You can read an FAQ for the first book here. Book 1 covers the introduction to the main characters, Book 2 shows more of that journey, while Book 3 is the conclusion. Book 1 is completed, but Book 2 and 3 are still in progress.

The RoSoverse is different from the LTYE Multiverse. You can read more about that here. But, TLDR version, the multiverse is a collection of AU's based off the OG story. AU's can be read in any order. However, if planning to read the RoSoverse, then you must stay away from the AU's until you've at least completed Book 1. If you don't, you risk spoiling a variety of important tenets in the OG series.

Looking Through Your Eyes

Standing By The Ocean

Dreamland*

*It is marked as an AU, but it's canon. This was initially intended as an AU, but I made the executive decision to make it Book 3 after realizing how well it worked into the original storyline.

Please know that this is an extremely heavy series that focuses on and highlights a variety of sensitive topics, including mental health struggles and domestic/sexual violence against women. You can read the entire CW/TW's in the LTYE masterlist. I strongly advise you to read all of them and make a determination as to what is best for your mental wellbeing before deciding to read.

Obviously, I do not own anything related to or belonging to WWE and all recognizable characters. I don't even own mafia tropes or any of the other general tropes within this trilogy. However, I do own the rights to my original characters as well as the specific plot and workings of this story, so please don't steal anything. I work too hard on my stories, have worked extremely hard on this particular collection, and I don't deserve to have my ideas stolen. So, just be a good person, and don't do that shit.

[daniiwrites]

Ties That Bind - Chapter 5

Warnings: Minors DNI. Language. Breeding kink. Smutty times ahead.

Word count: 4.6 k

Rebuilding my tag list, so please let me know if you'd like to be added or removed. Comments, likes and reblogs are very much appreciated. It's how us writers know you like what we're putting out. I love hearing y'all's thoughts.

Chapter 5

2.15.25

Aaron wasn’t quite sure if it was nerves or excitement that had settled deep in his belly. His right leg shook uncontrollably until Jade gently laid her hand on his thigh. Her touch settled him, calmed him.

“What’s wrong, Aaron?”

“Nothing’s wrong, baby. Just a little… nervous.”

“About the ultrasound?”

His eyes met hers and he nodded.

“I know it’s real and that it’s been real this whole time. But now… I think seeing the baby is really gonna drive it home for me. I’m gonna be a dad.”

“I felt that way at my first appointment too. We didn’t get a good look at the baby then, but I got to hear the heartbeat. I’m really glad that you’re here for this one.”

“Me too, baby doll.”

He leaned over and kissed her temple softly. She gently rubbed her hand back and forth across his thigh.

“But you gotta stop that, mama.”

“Huh? Why?”

“Your hands anywhere near my dick is gonna do it for me and I don’t think that’s gonna be a good introduction for me to your gyno.”

Jade snickered and slapped his chest.

“You’re so nasty, Aaron.”

“Yeah, but you love it though.”

That familiar blush warmed her cheeks and the nurse called her name just in time.

“Ms. Laurent? Doctor Williams is ready for you in room 2.”

Aaron held on to her hand as they walked down the short hallway to the examination room. After changing into the supplied gown, Jade scooted up onto the exam table as her doctor made her introductions. Aaron stood at her side, gently holding her hand in his as Dr. Williams began her exam. Jade’s eyes were on her doctor, taking in the serious but relaxed look on her face. Her OB-GYNs had always been Black women and there was something comforting about knowing she was being taken care of by another Black woman, especially during this special time in her life. Dr. Williams had been the one to initially diagnose her fertility issues years ago, so discovering that her patient conceived naturally had truly warmed her heart.

“All of your test results from last time came back perfectly normal. No defects present in your samples, so that is a very good thing.”

“Thank God,” Jade murmured softly.

Aaron continued to rub his thumb back and forth over her hand. Hearing that news felt like a bit of the weight was lifted off his back. A healthy baby was all he could truly ask for.

“And now, we’ll get to see exactly how far along you are. I know you told me the possible date of conception was December 9th, but it could happen days after the actual act.”

Dr. Williams fiddled with her monitor and turned up a dial and suddenly, a rapid fluttering sound filled the room.

“Is that our baby?”

Dr. Williams smiled over at Aaron.

“That’s your little one." 

His heart felt like it was beating even harder in his chest as he let his eyes drift over the screen, watching their little one wiggled around on screen. Awe didn’t even begin to describe how he felt. Amazed. Proud. Protective. All these feelings welled up inside of him at that moment. Aaron looked down at Jade, his eyes a little glassy. She reached up with one hand, a matching smile on her face as she cradled his cheek. He dipped his head and pressed a tender kiss to her lips.

“Thank you, Jade…Thank you," he whispered against her lips.

This made it so incredibly real to Aaron. Seeing his son or daughter on that screen was just… ming blowing. Granted, it was still just a little alien shaped blob at the moment. But it was their little alien.

“He or she has a very strong heartbeat… Measuring at just under two inches, so I’m going to adjust your due date just a bit.”

“Still September?”

“Mmhm.. Likely closer to the 8th instead of the first like we initially thought based on when we thought you conceived. You’re measuring at eleven weeks along.”

“This is so amazing…”

“Oh just you wait until your next ultrasound,” Dr. Williams said with a smile. “The baby will be moving a lot more and it’ll look more like a baby.” 

“It’s heartbeat is so fast,” Aaron said, looking a little awed. 

“It’s beating at about 110 to 160 beats a minute. It’ll slow down a bit over time. Would you like a recording of the heartbeat??”

“I’d love that,” Aaron said with a huge smile on his face. 

“You got it. Now lets get some pictures for your fridge.”

Aaron couldn’t help himself and kissed Jade softly again. She smiled against his lips and softly rubbed a tear away. This was the first time she’d seen him get emotional over her pregnancy and it really made her start to look at him differently. She’d been trying so hard to just see him as her child’s father but now, she was looking at him as a man and as a potential partner. The warmth in her belly grew when she imagined the three of them together, as a real little family.

In no time, Dr. Williams finished her exam, giving Jade and the baby a clean bill of health. After Jade slipped away to change, Dr. Williams turned to Aaron.

“Is this your first baby as well?”

“Yeah. I’m really excited. Even more now. Little bit nervous though.”

“Just take good care of them both. You’ll learn how to be a dad. It’s a really beautiful thing to watch your partner become a parent.”

“You have kids?”

“Three,” she said with a proud smile. “Watching my husband learn how to be a dad was one of my favorite parts. There’s no manual to parenting, but some things, you just know. Others things, you’ll learn.”

“I hope so.”

“You will. The most important thing is to love them. Love them and take care of their mother. Kids pay attention to that kind of thing. As long as your kids feel like you’re a safe space for them, you did good.”

“That’s great advice, Doc.”

“I do give great advice on occasion,” she said with a laugh as she tugged her gloves off. “Wish you could remind my oldest of that. He’s 13 going on 30.”

“Oof… teenage boys. Now I feel bad for you.”

“What are you two talking about?” Jade asked as she stepped out of the bathroom.

“The highs and lows of parenthood.”

“You two are gonna be just fine.”

Aaron smiled over at Jade as she grabbed her coat and purse. Dr. Williams was right… They’d be just fine.

“Still want to schedule your next visit on a Saturday?”

“If you’re available… Aaron’s work schedule is a little crazy.”

“As long as you schedule them in the mornings like this, I can make it to MacKenzie’s soccer game. Works out just fine for me.”

“Thank you so much,” Jade said with a grateful smile.

“Just check in with Jenny to schedule your next one and she’ll get you your prescription refill. Enjoy the rest of your day.”

“You too.”

Aaron reached out for her hand as they exited the exam room and made their way over to the front desk. He still felt like he was on cloud nine after seeing the physical proof of their little one’s existence. After taking care of business, Aaron led her to the parking garage where his car was parked.

“You’re quiet…” Jade murmured softly as he opened the passenger door for her.

“Thinking a lot. Seeing the baby was kind of mind-blowing, Jade. Like… it’s really real. We’re having a baby.”

“We are. How are you feeling?”

“Terrified,” he said with a nervous chuckle as he wrapped his hands around her waist. “But happy. Like really happy. I’m excited to do this with you, baby.”

Jade smiled up at him, reaching up to cradle his handsome face in her hands.

“Yeah?”

He nodded before dipping his head and kissing her softly. As passionate as Aaron could be, she absolutely loved it when he handled her like this. Like she was something special… like spun glass. Those big hands of hers gripped her waist, covering the marks of his possession that he’d left earlier that morning. He controlled their kiss, keeping it sweet but just enough to make her long for him. When her pussy pulsed in response to his tender kisses, she pulled back, a little blush on her cheeks. She could feel Aaron against her belly, pulsing hard and firm.

“How about we do brunch at home?”

3.8.25

14 weeks pregnant

The sounds of grunts, thuds, and groans filled the air at the boxing gym Jade where currently spending her Saturday morning. And the smell of stale sweat. But despite all that, she sat, legs crossed watching the fight in front of her. There was something incredibly… arousing about watching a man… this man full on grappling and dominating another man. Jade didn’t quite know what it was, but damn. The way he managed to flip this dude around and wrap his arm around his neck… She licked her lips as Aaron wrapped his thighs around the guy’s arm and tugged backwards, pulling until he tapped out. Dressed in tight fitting shorts that showed off his powerful thighs and a fitted shirt, he was a walking wet dream. She nibbled on her bottom lip as he agilely leapt to his feet, holding his hand out to help the other guy up. Her eyes were locked on him as he made his way over to her, two other fighters already squaring up behind them.

Aaron chuckled as he made his way over to Jade. The woman was looking at him with a dazed, dreamy look in her eyes that he was quickly beginning to love. He squatted in front of her, leaning in and pressing a kiss to her full lips.

“Having fun, baby doll?”

“Definitely enjoying the show. Are you gonna teach me how to do that?”

“Maybe in 8 months… Not letting anything near you right now.”

“I’m fine,” she said with a little laugh. “You’d never actually hit me, so what’s the harm in you showing me a few moves?”

“I’ll think about it, baby,” he said, leaning in and pressing a cute little kiss to the tip of her nose. “How are you feeling?”

“Good… in need of a workout, so if you aren’t gonna train me, I hope you’re prepared for some at home cardio. My doctor says staying in shape is gonna make this whole process easier.”

Aaron snickered and shook his head.

“Alright fine. You and I can spar, but I’m not letting one of these other guys touch you.”

“You’re the only one I want touching me,” she murmured as she leaned in, giving him a great look down her sports bra. Aaron licked his lips as he let his eyes drift over her body. She wasn’t showing just just but goddamn if she didn’t look sexy as hell in her workout fit. 

“I still want that at home cardio though,” he said as he pulled her to her feet, urging her to the ring with a slap on the ass. He held the ring ropes open for her, stepping in after. 

“Can you throw a punch?”

“Umm…”

Aaron laughed softly.

“That’s ok, baby. You don’t look like the kinda woman who’s out in the streets fighting. Plus, you got me now.” 

After explaining to her the proper way to make a fist, he held his hands up, encouraging her to hit his palms. He grinned proudly when she hit him, a little power behind those punches.

“She is small but mighty.”

“I’m tougher than I look!”

“Yes you are, baby doll. Again.”

They practiced this drill for a few moments until she really got the hang of it and then progressed to him moving his hands, giving her a moving target to track. Aaron found himself quite proud of his little lady. She was a bit of a natural. They’d save anything more aggressive for after she had the baby, but he could already see her being a fun sparring partner for him. Aaron licked his lips when he saw the sweat collecting on her cleavage and winked at her.

“Eyes up here, big guy.”

“Damn, baby. I can’t even look?”

Jade giggled softly when he reached out pulling her close for a quick kiss. He popped her ass before pulling back. 

“You wanna keep going or are you ready for me to stretch you out?”

Both Jade’s eyebrows shot up.

“You talk about me being nasty but I wasn’t even talking about that… this time.”

“Let’s go… stretch,” she said with a little smirk. 

Aaron once again sat on the middle rope, holding it open. After she climbed out, he hopped down out of the ring and reached back up to lift her down. Jade let her breasts rub against his chest as he lowered her body to the floor and she loved the way his blue-green eyes darkened. He led her over to one of the mats and they began to stretch together. When he’d invited her to his workout this morning, he hadn’t been sure if she’d have fun or if she’d sit in the corner bored. He definitely hadn’t counted on her being a bloodthirsty little thing and being turned on by watching him practice jujitsu. Jade rolled onto her back, gripping her thigh to stretch out her hamstring. Before they’d gotten to the jujitsu gym, the couple had gone on a run around Aaron’s neighborhood and her legs had been a little tight ever since. Aaron got to his knees, a naughty grin on his face as he took the opportunity to help her stretch. He gripped her leg, sliding it on to his shoulder as he leaned over her.

“You’re loving this, aren’t you?”

“Damn right I am… I can see right down your bra from this angle. And we both know how much I love having your legs thrown over my shoulders.”

Jade blushed brightly as he pushed a little harder, feeling the tension in the back of her right hamstring. He gently switched legs, maintaining his position above her.

"Too much?”

Jade shook her head and he leaned further over her and she felt the answering pull in her muscles. 

“Aaron?”

“Hmm?”

“What’s your favorite position?”

“You’re asking me that now?”

Jade snickered when he looked at her a bit incredulously.

“Just popped into my head.”

“I don’t have one yet.”

“Why not?”

“Cause I like everything we’ve done so far,” he said, keeping his voice low so that only she could hear him. He scooted back a bit before rolling her onto her side, back flat and her left leg bent over her right.  She didnt miss the bulge forming at his crotch.

“Mmm…” she groaned softly as he stretched out her lower back.

“I like missionary because I love being on top of you. I can see that pretty face… your breasts, your belly. I can see everything and I love that. It feels very intimate. I can see how much you like what I’m doing to you. Doggy cause I love feeling your ass clap against me. It turns me on even more. I like it when you ride me cause I can just sit back and watch your breasts bounce. I love… everything we do, baby.”

“My favorite is doggy… As much as I love looking at you, I like how dominated I feel when you take me like that.”

“You like being dominated?”

“By you, yes. Makes me feel all tiny and delicate. Protected.”

“Well, you are tiny and delicate. Especially compared to me. And I’ll always protect you. Both of you.”

He switched her to her right side, gently pressing down on her knee.

“Honestly, I just really like making you lose control. You’re always so gentle with me and I absolutely love that. But sometimes, when I push you… I like that side of Aaron too.”

His eyes met hers and Jade swallowed hard. Part of her felt like she’d just unlocked some part of Aaron. She really hoped he didn’t think she was complaining about their sex life because she absolutely was not. Sex with Aaron was out of this world. Literally some of the best sex of her life. A part of her knew that it was because it was new and fun. But there was another part that just knew it was him… it was the two of them together. He often touched her with such reverence and care and every moment she spent in his bed felt somehow sacred. 

Three months.

That’s all it had taken for her to start falling for him.

Crazier considering he’d only consistently been in her life for just over a month. He'd come in to her life and turned everything upside down. It honestly terrified her. If he could make her feel so deeply, that meant he could hurt her just as deeply.

“What are you thinking about, baby?” He murmured softly, his ever watchful eyes on her face.

“You.”

“Good things?”

The smile she shot up at him was radiant and he felt his heart clench in his chest.

“Just how happy you’re making me.”

His smile matched hers and he leaned over her, pressing a sweet kiss to her lips. He pushed himself to his feet before reaching down and helping her up.

“Hermano!”

Jade looked over Aaron’s shoulder as he turned to face the man approaching them with a big grin on his face. The two men dapped each other up before pulling one another into a one armed hug.

“Good to see you, Nando.”

“Good to see you too. Who’s this beautiful woman??”

Jade blushed softly when Aaron looked down at her, a softness in his eyes.

“This is my lady… Jade meet Nando, one of my first trainers.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Jade,” Nando said with a big smile. “You must be something special. He never brings people here.”

Jade cut her eyes at Aaron as she smiled back at Nando and shook his offered hand. His lady, huh??

“She is something else. Very special to me.”

“I’m happy for you, man. I gotta get back to these drills, but it was good to see you. Very nice to meet you, Jade.”

After he disappeared back towards the ring, Jade turned those dark eyes of hers on him.

“You ready?”

“Yeah…”

After grabbing his gym bag, he reached down with his free hand, taking her much smaller hand in his. Once they made it to the parking lot, he opened the passenger door for her, those eyes of his on her face.

“You’re upset.”

“I’m not upset…”

“Ok, so what’s wrong?”

Jade turned to face him, her eyes searching his face.

“You didn’t ask me.”

“I didn’t ask you what, Jade? Just tell me what I did.”

“You told him I was your girlfriend and you didn’t ask me first.”

“That’s what you’re mad about? That I introduced you as my lady? What was I supposed to say? This is my baby mama?”

Aaron saw the hurt that flashed in her eyes before she could hide it and immediately felt like shit for what he’d just said.

“I -,“ he grimaced. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

Jade spun around and climbed up into his SUV, slapping his hand away.

“Jade, don’t… C’mon, baby.”

“Take me home please.”

With a heavy sigh, he closed her door and walked around to his side and climbed in the driver’s side.

“Jade. Baby, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to insinuate that you don’t mean a lot to me.”

“Do I? I’m not just some girl you knocked up?”

“You’re so much more than some girl, Jade. Don’t play with me.”

Jade crossed her arms across her chest, a pout on her pretty face.

“I should have asked you first… We should have had a discussion before I introduced you as mine. But that’s how I feel. I want you to be my girl.”

“Why?”

“Because you make me happy. We’re having a baby. I thought the goal was for us to try to build towards something. Towards a family.”

“Are you sure that’s what you want?”

“Absolutely. I want you. I want us.”

Arms still crossed, Jade glanced up at him, seeing the sincerity in his clear green eyes. 

“I want that too…” she whispered. “But you scare me, Aaron.”

His brow furrowed as he turned his body more fully towards her.

“I scare you? Jade, I would never hurt you.”

“Not physically. I know that. But the way I feel is… intense. The feelings you make me feel are crazy sometimes and it’s scary.”

One big hand came out to gently cup her cheek, his thumb moving back and forth across her soft skin.

“Baby, I know your hormones are going crazy right now. And I know you’re the kind of woman who believes actions over words. But I swear to you, I’d never do anything intentionally to mess this up. I got you.”

It felt like her heart was about to beat out of her chest but for some reason, she believed him. She wanted so desperately to believe him. A tear fell down her cheek and she took a deep breath to calm herself. If she kept on looking for the negative in things, she wasn’t going to allow herself the happiness she deserved. When Aaron leaned towards her, she met him halfway, letting out a soft sob when his lips touched hers. He cradled her face so tenderly as he kissed her.

“So will you? Will you be mine? Calling you my girlfriend feels so… not enough. I want you to be my partner. My lady. My love.”

“Aaron… of course I’ll be your girl. I want that.”

He smiled real big, showing all those pretty teeth before leaning in and kissing her again.

“You still want me to take you home?”

“The only place I want you taking me right now is your bed.”

—

Her pretty brown skin glowed in the sunlight, the muscles in her back flexing as she pushed back against him. Aaron groaned softly as he smoothed his hands down her satin soft skin, stopping at her round hips and pulling her ass against him. The sounds of rhythmic clapping and the wet welcome from her body filled the room and he’d never felt more content.

“Babyyyyyy…”

“Mmhmm.. That’s it. You take me so well, Jade.”

His eyes were glue to the sight of her perfect ass and the sight of himself, thick caramel thrusting into soft chocolate. He was covered in her slick and it turned him on beyond belief. The creamy ring around his dick was proof of how good he was giving it to her. Aaron leaned down over her, bracing himself with an arm by her head. He let her feel some of the weight of his body, knowing now how much she loved feeling dominated by him. Sweet little kisses to the back of her shoulder. Jade whimpered softly as he pushed in deep, letting her feel him.

“You feel me, mama?”

“Yes,” she whimpered.

“Where am I?”

“In my pussy,” she gasped when he thrust hard and deep again.

“Deep in that pretty little pussy. You gonna come for me again?”

“Aaron, please.”

There was a smile on his face as he slid his free hand down to her flat belly, wishing she was showing already. Despite his heavy thrusts, his touch was gentle. He’d learned just how much Jade could handle and was careful not to go too hard. 

“I’m not stopping until you come again. Gotta remind you who you belong to.”

Jade whimpered softly. She’d lost count of the number of times he’d made her come. As soon as they’d made it back to his place, he’d started in on her. Practically devoured her in the kitchen. And again in the shower. He’d stared into her very soul as he splayed her out on the bed and made love to her. And finally, he was giving her what she asked for. Domination. She wanted to feel small and safe… he could give her that. He’d please her however she wanted, for however long she wanted it. Her pleasure mattered more to him than his own and he always wanted her to leave his bed feeling utterly owned. 

Aaron placed gentle kisses down her spine, a little smile on his face. He pulled out and helped her onto her back. As much as he loved watching that ass slap against his thighs, he wanted to see her face when she came again. Twin moans rang out in the room as he pushed back inside her, hands on her thighs keeping her spread wide for him. 

“I love watching you take me. Take every inch inside that sweet little pussy.”

Jade glanced down between them, biting her bottom lip as she watched him slowly push all the way inside her before retreating and doing it all over again. With every touch and every thrust, it felt like he was branding her from the inside out. Aaron licked his thumb before reaching between him and slowly circling her throbbing little clit. Her back arched up off the bed as her orgasm loomed closer and closer. Aaron kept his thrusts constant and deep. 

The way she was clenching around him… the way her breathing escalated. 

His fingers sped up on her clit and he was rewarded with a fresh gush of liquid gold. When her back arched, full tits wobbling on her chest, he roared, ass flexing as he gave her one last hard thrust. In long hard pulses, he fill her pussy to the brim, panting softly as he braced himself above her. Jade let out a shuttering breath as she felt his wide shaft pulsing inside of her, delivering its hot load at her very core. Aaron slowly laid himself on top of her, keeping his full weight off of her. Jade cradled his face in her hands as she kissed him tenderly before sliding her arms around his neck.

“That was…”

“Fucking amazing. Your pussy is dangerous.”

Jade giggled softly before kissing him again.

“It is not.”

“It is,” he muttered, panting softly. “That’s not normal. It’s special shit in there.”

She continued to giggle softly while he got himself together. When he could, he leaned back, one hand on her inner thigh as he slowly pulled out. Jade shivered when she saw the heat in those green eyes. The man looked like he was gearing up to go again.

“You love that…”

“It’s so fucking sexy.”

He slapped the side of her ass as he pushed himself off the bed and walked over to the bathroom. With a warm cloth in hand, he gently cleaned their mess off of her. 

“Lazy day tomorrow?”

“I’m gonna hit the gym, but other than that, absolutely baby.”

“Oooh… I wanna watch."

“Watch me lift?”

Jade snuggled up close to him when he laid his big body next to hers.

“It's sexy,” she said with a little blush. “Think of it as foreplay.”

Aaron snickered, pulling her to lay against his chest. She nuzzled his throat, dropping tender little kisses there with a smile.

"I mean, I do love making you wet.”

“You’re so nasty…”

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[daniiwrites]

Wicked Games

Warnings: Minors DNI. Language. Breeding kink (technically it will eventually be kink filled, but we'll start here). Smutty times ahead.

Word count: 5.9 k. Uhh... I was ovulating when I wrote some of this, so...

Rebuilding my tag list, so please let me know if you'd like to be added or removed. Comments, likes and reblogs are very much appreciated. It's how us writers know you like what we're putting out. I love hearing y'all's thoughts. Shoutout to @rose-bliss for helping me out with the aesthetics of this story.

Chapter 1

The mirrored glass skyscraper loomed in front of her as she sat in her parked car, eyes going back and forth between the contract she’d been mailed and the front doors. Nyx Devereaux took a deep breath before applying a fresh coat of lip gloss.

It was now or never and her bills weren’t gonna pay themselves. She shoved her car door open and stepped out, smoothing her hands over her leather skirt. Her high heels clicked on the concrete as she walked up to the building, taking another deep breath to settle her nerves. It didn’t really help too much. Once inside, the doorman greeted her with a practiced smile.

“Can I help you, miss?”

“I’m here to see Terry Richmond.”

“Sign in here please. What’s your name?”

“Nyx Devereaux."

Nyx scribbled her name in the book while he rang Terry. In no time, she was in an elevator alone with her thoughts, hurtling through the clouds. The loud ding announcing her arrival to the penthouse floor made her jump.

“Calm the fuck down, bitch. Damn…”

The shiny elevators doors opened slowly and Nyx was unprepared for the man waiting for her on the other side. Terry Richmond was 6’3” of all American male. Caramel skinned, short cropped hair and piercing grey-green eyes. Nyx was sure most believed those feline-like eyes were his best feature, but for her, it was those lips.

Full, lush and framed in a neatly trimmed goatee. Those were the lips of a man who could suck the soul from a woman. Her breath hitched as she took him all in. He was huge, biceps straining against the short sleeves of his Henley. This might not be so difficult after all. At least he was sexy.

“Good evening, Nyx. It’s nice to meet you.”

His smile was warm and very sexy. It oddly put her at ease, the nerves in her belly calming down.

“Would you like to come in?”

She nodded and stepped over the threshold.

“Sorry… It’s nice to meet you too. I’m… I’ve never done anything like this before.”

“It’s perfectly normal to be a little nervous. Would you like a drink? We can go over the details… talk about what you’re ok with and what’s a hard no.”

“Yes please,” she said with a small smile. As she stepped further inside his apartment, she glanced around. His style was very minimalist and his wall of art stood out to her. He guided her deeper inside and into his kitchen.

“What’s your poison?”

“Do you have tequila?”

Terry chuckled softly as he made his way over to his bar cart. 

“You want it straight or a cocktail?”

“Can you make a Paloma?”

“I can make anything you want, darlin’.”

Nye felt the heat in her cheeks move down to the tops of her breasts as he flashed a confident smile over at her. The way he moved around his kitchen let her know that he was a man comfortable in this space. Her eyes drifted to his hands and forearms as he prepared her cocktail. Moments later, he sat it down in front of her. Terry didn’t move away. He stayed close, leaning against his kitchen counter. The woodsy scent of his cologne filled her nose and whatever it was, it smelled sexy…. Like cinnamon, vetiver, and a touch of musk. Those eyes watched her as she took the first sip, humming softly in pleasure. 

“What made you say yes to this?”

“Honestly, I need the money for school as cliche as that sounds. Your ad intrigued me. And when you sent a photo I thought “well, at least he’s not a gremlin”. 

Terry chuckled, crossing his arms across his chest.

“At least I’m not a gremlin.”

“I just… You’re very handsome. I’m sure you know that already. Makes this whole thing… easier.”

“Look, Nyx, today’s scene can be as intense or as calm as you need it to be. Ok? We can go all in or we can just play.”

“Play?”

“If you’re not comfortable with… me inside you, I can just make you cum. Your intro video can literally just be me making you cum all night. I don’t want you to do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

“But the contract…”

“We can make adjustments.”

Nyx took another sip of her drink, a bigger one this time, focusing on the taste of grapefruit and tequila. She reached into her purse, pulling out the folded contract. His eyes went to the folded paper as she smoothed it out with her small hands.

“Would you like to go over it?”

“I would.”

Terry nodded and walked over to his fridge, grabbing a beer for himself and popping the cap. He stood across from her, waiting for her to speak first.

“Umm… I know you said you’d pay more if we didn’t use condoms in the scene.”

“I would and I have my most recent results for you.”

He reached over and slid a manilla envelope in front of her. 

"I also have mine. As well as proof that I have an IUD.”

“Thank you. I’d also want you to be aware that while we are filming together, I’m not sleeping with other women without condoms and I ask that you do the same with your partners.”

“I’m very single,” she said, letting out an embarrassed laugh. “You’re going to be the first man I’ve slept with in over a year.”

“There’s no way a woman as beautiful as you doesn’t have men at her beck and call.”

“Men in this city are trash. No offense. It’s not even worth the free meal to go on a date these days.”

“Damn… sounds bleak.”

“I’m mentally preparing to get a couple cats and become a crazy old cat lady.”

The laugh he let out that time was genuine and she couldn’t help the little smile on her face when she heard it. 

“I don’t think you’ll end up a cat lady, Nyx. Not with a face like yours.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” she said with a smile. 

“Any time. What do you want to talk about next?”

Nyx flipped to the second page of the contract. This page detailed the list of things he wanted to do with and to her.

“This list is quite extensive. I haven’t done a lot of this.”

“Does anything peak your interest? Or sound like something you wouldn’t like?”

“What’s somnophilia?”

Her dark eyes met his,  a telltale blush on her cheeks as she waited for him to answer.

“It means I’d like to fuck you while you’re asleep… or at least be inside you. It requires trust, so we’d save that one for later.”

“You… why?”

“I like the control aspect of it. Watching my partner sleep peacefully… watching her beautiful body as she rests. Something about knowing you feel safe enough to rest in my presence is a turn on. The asleep part usually only lasts until I’m inside you… your body wakes up up when you begin to feel the pleasure. Nothing I love more than waking my partner up with my mouth on her pussy.”

Nyx felt her nipples harden behind the tragically thin lace of her bra and gasped softly. Just looking at those full lips of his, she knew he was an eater. And with a voice like that, Nyx knew he’d talk her all the way through it. She cleared her throat and took another sip of her cocktail.

“The voyeurism… would that just be here or in public?”

“Here in my home. I have a room specifically for filming where there are cameras always setup. The same in the attached bathroom. When you’re in those spaces, you can always assume you’re being watched by me. I probably wouldn’t risk taking you in public,” he said, a naughty smirk on his handsome face. “I’m quite loud and it’s… messy.”

“Messy?”

“I cum… a lot. One of the reasons I prefer bareback sex on camera. Trying to snap a condom off in the midst of passion isn’t it.”

“Have you had a lot of partners? I mean, on camera partners?”

“No. You would be the second.. If you agreed.”

“The dominance and submission  clause… what does that include? Is it only on camera?”

  “Only on camera. We would have to have a deeper discussion later if the both of us wanted that kind of relationship off camera as well. And it probably doesn’t include what you think it does. Yes, I would want to dominate you in order to bring you pleasure. I’d want to build that trust over time and convince you that submitting to me isn’t a weakness. It’s a strength to just relax and let yourself be cared for in all ways.”

Nyx nibbled her full bottom lip, wincing when she tasted the sharp metallic taste of her own blood. Terry’s moss colored eyes were focused on her face, an earnestness in them that she wasn’t expecting.

“What if we don’t work well together on camera?”

“Nyx… you’re a beautiful woman. I’m most definitely attracted to you and I’m hoping the feeling is mutual. As long as you’re willing to have a little fun, I’m sure you and I will thoroughly enjoy one another. How about we use tonight as a trial? You don’t have to be locked in to a contract before sampling the goods. If you hate it, I won’t release the footage and you still leave five grand richer.”

Terry’s hand reached out to cradle her cheek, his thumb gently rubbing against her swollen bottom lip. His scent surrounded her as he stepped closer. Nyx could feel her heartbeat strumming in her chest as his eyes searched hers for a moment, before making the choice to lean in and kiss her. Those lips were as soft as they looked and she moaned softly when his tongue gently traced her bottom lip, soothing the sting where she’d bitten herself. His massive hands slid around her waist, pulling her in closer to him as he deepened the kiss. He kept the kiss gentle, holding her curvy little body against his and letting her feel what she did to him. And there was no way Nyx could miss that throbbing beast against her flat belly. She reached up, slipping her arms around his neck, tilting her head as Terry deepened the kiss. He smoothed his hands down to her hips before gripping her ass. He kneaded her flesh before lifting her onto the counter, stepping between her spread thighs. 

“Let’s do it…”

Terry grinned down at her before letting his eyes drift down to the flash of pink he could see between her legs. Neon pink lace. Mmmm… He couldn’t wait to get that off of her beautiful body.

“Yeah?”

“Mmmhmm.”

Her shriek as he threw her over his shoulder was loud in the otherwise quiet apartment. His ass was right in her face as he carried her into a bedroom and she couldn’t resist reaching out and smacking the firm cheek. Damn, he had an ass on him. He slapped her ass in retaliation before gently lowering her onto a soft bed. 

“This is where the on-camera magic happens,” he said with a soft chuckle.

“Is it recording already?”

“It is now.”

The way he stood over her turned her on and she pressed her thighs together.

“What do you want me to do?”

“I just wanna play with you, baby. Make you come so hard you’re still thinking about it next week.”

Her breath hitched in her chest when she heard his words. And judging by the look on his handsome face, Terry knew he could deliver.

“Can I undress you, mama?”

“Please.”

“Stand up for me.”

Nyx pushed herself to her feet, a little nervous now that she was about to be naked in front of him. Terry’s massive hands were infinitely gentle as he began to unbutton her silk shirt, licking his lips as he pushed it open and saw the hot pink lace bra that matched her panties.

“Damn..”

He smoothed one hand down her chest, feeling the pounding of her heart beneath his palm.

“You nervous, baby?”

Nyx bit at her bottom lip again before nodding.

“Don’t be. I’m gonna make this so good for you.”

He hefted her large breasts in his hands, a grin on his face as he rubbed his thumbs back and forth across her lace covered nipples. 

“Fuck… these are so perfect.”

Terry dipped his head, covering her lips with his as he pulled her in close. With one hand, he deftly unhooked her bra and tugged the offending fabric away. Those hard little nipples brushed against the soft cotton of his shirt and he groaned softly against her full lips. He reached behind him with one hand, pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it on the floor. Nyx barely had time to admire his heavily muscled upper body before he was pulling her back against him, her bullet hard nipples brushing against the soft hair on his chest. He spun them around and sat heavily on the bed, his eyes drifting over what he’d uncovered so far. Her nipples were pierced and the sight turned him on even more.

“Damn.”

The way he licked those full lips was starting to drive her crazy. Hands on her hips, he pulled her in closer to him, spreading his legs to make room for her. Nyx placed her hands on his broad shoulders as he trailed kisses across her flat belly before making his way to one of her hard nipples. He looked her dead in the eye as he wrapped his lips around the hard little nub and moaned loudly. His free hand slid up her thigh, reaching under her skirt to grip her ass. Her breasts had always been incredibly sensitive and Terry’s mouth was driving her crazy. She could already feel her pussy soaking the gusset of her lace panties. Terry tugged at her nipple with his teeth, flicking the piercing before letting go with a little pop.

“Is she wet for me, baby?”

Nyx let out a little gasp when he brushed his fingertips across the crotch of her panties. 

“Oooooh…. She is dripping. Can I taste it? Been thinking about how you taste since you walked in.”

“As long as I get to taste you.”

Terry’s eyes lit up. 

“I’m your playground.”

“I sure hope so,” she murmured softly, rubbing her hands across his broad shoulders. He let her push him back on the bed, a sly smile on his face as she crawled on top of him. His hands settled on her hips like they belonged there and he pressed up against her, letting her feel how much she turned him on. And fuck did she feel it. Her hips ground against him of their own volition as she leaned down over him and flicked her tongue against his throat. His skin tasted clean and his woodsy smell invaded her nostrils as she began to explore him. If it was one thing Nyx loved, it was veins on a man. And Terry was vascular as hell. His forearms. His throat. And she just knew that dick was going to be big and veiny just the way she liked. There was just something about this man that made her want to do whatever it took to please him. And she just knew he’d return the favor. Ten times over.

“You’re so big, Terry…”

Hooded eyes met hers as she smoothed her hands down his abs. 

“You have no idea..”

Terry tangled his hands in her hair, groaning softly when she teasingly bit his nipple. A dark lock of hair trailed down his chest as she playfully nipped and bit her way across his ripped abs. Just when she reached the zipper on his jeans, he reared up, grabbing her wrists and reversing their positions on the bed.

“Rule #1… you come first. Always.”

He chuckled when he saw her raised eyebrows, her mouth in a little ‘oh’.

“You’ll learn.”

“You gonna teach me?”

“You’ll find that I am an excellent teacher…”

The way he looked at her in that moment… even if she didn’t want to keep doing this for the money, Nyx already knew she’d be in trouble the minute she let him inside her. Terry tapped her outer thigh and she lifted her hips, a blush covering her body when he tugged her skirt and panties off. Heat tingled on her skin the longer he stared at her naked body. And he was staring. Hard. Those eyes of his took in every inch of skin, from the top of her head, to her heavy breasts and those perfect little nipples, to the diamond stud in her belly… down to the sweet pussy he couldn’t wait to claim. And by the looks of it, she couldn’t wait for him either. Her wetness glistened in the low light and he could smell the sweet scent of her arousal. When his tongue flicked out across his lips, she moaned involuntarily.

“Can I taste you? Been dying to know if you’re as sweet as you smell.”

“Please, Terry…”

Nyx spread her legs, grinning when he groaned softly. Terry settled between her thighs like a sniper on a mission, taking a deep breath of the sweet peach he was about to devour. Little kisses on her inner thighs just served to turn her on even more. The little gasp she let out when he pressed a kiss to her pussy made his dick jump in response. Fuck… His tongue split her thick lips and she moaned his name when he sucked her throbbing little clit in his mouth, flicking his tongue around in a circle.

“Mmm… sweet like honey. Damn, girl.”

Nyx reached down with a shaky hand, gripping his broad shoulder as he began to devour her in earnest. The wet growling sounds he made as he ate her out like his favorite delicacy. Nyx couldn’t control the way her hips rocked against his face nor could she stop the guttural sounds that poured from her. She’d never had someone take her up so fast and she felt like she was on the precipice of something huge already. The tip of his finger gently circled her entrance and her hips rocketed up of their own volition. Terry slung an arm across her hips, holding her in place so she couldn’t get away from him. The thick finger circling her entrance slowly began to plunge inside and Terry groaned against her slick flesh when he felt how tight she was. She hadn't been lying about it having been a while for her. When he pressed up, the sounds she started to make were music to his ears. He gently added his ring finger and began a fluttering motion against her g-spot. 

“F-fu-fuuuuck. Terry please.”

Her free hand came down, cradling the back of his head. This man was eating her pussy like he was starving and her pussy held the cure to world hunger. She rocked her hips against his face, searching for the orgasm that loomed up in front of her. Terry glanced up at her and the sight of her slightly sweat slick skin and the tits he couldn’t get enough of made him groan, pressing his hips against the bed to give himself the tiniest bit of relief. He was leaking like a faucet and couldn’t wait to get inside of her. When she began to pull away from him, he doubled his efforts. When he swirled his tongue around her clit again, she screamed his name, pussy just gushing against his face. The arm braced across her hips kept her in place, not letting her run from the intense pleasure that bordered on pain. He kept going until she settled, moaning weakly. Her splayed legs fell open, all her muscles gone slack with the intense pleasure. Terry wiped his beard with one hand, grinning as he licked at his palm to get more of her sweetness. He dragged his big body over her twitching one, dropping little kisses here and there. Her hands came up to his shoulders when he suckled her nipple into his mouth. She shivered when she felt the cold of his gold chain dragging against her overheated skin.

“You ok, baby?”

“Mmhmm… as soon as I can move my legs, it’s my turn.”

Terry chuckled softly, before popping his lips off her nipple.

“You have the most prefect tits I have ever seen. I just wanna bury my face in them.”

Nyx giggled, her hands coming up to cradle the back of his head. Her laugh turned into a moan when he switched breasts and suckled her other nipple into her mouth. 

“Feel free to.”

There was a sharp sting on the side of her breast where he’d nipped her and she knew there’d be a mark there later. Knew it and secretly loved it. When his hips pressed against her again, she reached down between them, desperate to get her hands and mouth on him. 

“I wanna see you, baby.”

Terry pushed himself up off of her and came to stand beside the bed, his hands undoing the button and zipper on his jeans. Nyx licked her lips as she she sat up, her hands immediately going to the waistband of his briefs. She wanted to see if he was as big as she felt. He looked damn near ready to bust through the thin fabric. As she tugged them down, revealing his happy trail, her eyes widened as the wide base of his dick came into view. 

“Oh…”

Her eyes flicked up to his face and he was watching her with a look she couldn’t quite describe. Passion. Desire. Most above all else, hunger. When she finally got him naked, she was confronted with one of the prettiest dicks she’d ever seen. Thick, caramel colored and heavy. With a curve. Fuck. That curve was probably going to be the death of her. He was longer and thicker than she’d thought and the head of his erection was engorged and leaking already for her. His balls were fat and heavy and suddenly, she couldn’t wait to feel him fill her up. Tonight would be the first time she’d ever let a man come inside of her and it felt like she’d picked well for her first. Terry reached down with one hand, stroking just under the head, squeezing out another droplet she couldn’t wait to taste.

“You ready for your taste, baby?”

Nyx smiled up at him before teasingly opening her mouth and sticking her tongue out. Terry groaned softly, tracing her full lips with the head of his dick, painting those lips with his precum. The way she moaned and licked her lips clean of him made his dick jerk in response. The jolt of pleasure that shot through him when she sucked the head of his dick in her mouth almost brought him to his knees. That wicked tongue swirled around the fat tip, lapping up his seed before taking him deeper, stuffing her mouth full of him. Terry gently cradled the back of her head, his eyes low as he watched her suck him off. Nyx kept her eyes on his as she swallowed around this thick head, saliva coating him as she pulled back with a soft gasp. Damn… she wrapped both hands around him, licking her lips before diving back in. Her tongue traced the large vein that travelled down the underside of his length before teasingly flicking her tongue against his glans.

“That's it baby…. Suck that dick. Fuuuuuck.”

Nyx moaned around him as she rocked back and forth, taking him a little deeper every time. She didn't think she’d be able to get all of him down her throat, but she was damn sure going to try. The sounds he began to make as she bobbed her head on him made the wetness pool between her thighs. He was leaking like a faucet and she eagerly slurped up his slightly salty essence. His thighs tensed under her soft hands and she moaned around him. The hand cradling the back of her head tightened and he groaned before pulling away.

“Damn, girl. That mouth is dangerous.”

Nyx licked her lips before smiling up at him. He reached down, pulling her to her feet and urging her back towards the bed. Terry nudged her legs apart, dropping little kisses as he crawled over her. He couldn’t resist the lure of those big tits and he teasingly flicked his tongue across her hard little nub. 

“Terry, I need you,” she whispered, smoothing her hands across his broad shoulders.

“How bad do you want it?”

“You want me to beg, baby?”

Jade eyes searched her face, a little smile on his face as he licked his lips.

“And if I do?”

“I’ll beg for that dick if you want me to, Daddy. You want me on my knees?”

She leaned up, trailing wet kisses along the cord of muscle on the side of his neck. Nyx made her way up to his ear, nibbling on the fleshy lobe.

“You’ll get there before the night is over.”

He rocked his hips against her wet cleft, glancing down between them and grunting when he saw the way her sweet liquid coated his wide shaft. Terry reached down, pressing the head against her tight entrance and starting to push in slowly. They both watched as he retreated a little, his dick shiny where it had been inside of her, before pushing in deeper. Pleasure tinged with hint of pain shot through her body as he began to forge his way inside of her. Between it having been a while for her and Terry being as blessed as he was by the dick fairy, Nyx was close to her limit already. And as if he could sense it, he reached between them, rubbing his thumb in small circles over her clit. A fresh surge of liquid gushed from her, easing his way.

“You’re taking me so well, baby. You gonna take it all?”

Nyx nodded as she looked up at him, panting softly.

“Use your words, baby. I want to hear you say it.”

“I want it all,” she said with a little gasp.

Terry grinned down at her before glancing between them. Just a few more inches to go. He reached down, spreading her thighs wide by hooking them over his forearms. So fucking wet… He growled softly when she clenched around him, her hand shooting out to brace itself on his lower belly.

“C’mon, baby doll. You can take me." “You’re so deep,” she said, a soft quiver in her voice.

“Move that hand, Nyx,” he rumbled.

Her eyes met his and she dropped her hand, trying to relax her body so she could take all of him. But fuck… the nigga was big. He was so thick, her clit dragged along the top of his dick when he thrust into her at this angle. Her gasp in the room was loud when the head of his dick bumped something deep inside her.

“Oooh… that’s it.”

Terry reached over and grabbed a pillow, tucking it under her hips, tilting her pussy up to better receive him. Nyx braced herself against the bed, rocking her hips against Terry’s deep thrusts. He was jabbing against her g-spot now with every deep thrust and the way the pressure was building already was driving her crazy. In this moment, nothing else mattered except the orgasm that loomed just out of reach. Terry made his way back down to her breasts, suckling the heavy flesh into his wicked mouth. Her hands clawed at his back as he really began to go to town on her. His name tumbled from her lips like a prayer. The heavy weight of him on top of her made Nyx feel ultra feminine, the domination complete when he reached up and wrapped his hand around her throat. The pressure at the sides of her throat increased and she smiled up at him as she begin to get lightheaded. The pressure built and built. The wet squelching sounds of her pussy filled the room and in any other situation the sounds would have embarrassed her. But not here. Not the way this man was looking at her. He looked like he fucking LOVED the sounds he was forcing from her. And the filthy things he was saying in her ear? Gaaaaawd.

“Ooooh shit, baby. I’m coming.. oh fuck!!”

“That's it, mama. Come on this dick.”

Terry maintained his pace, grunting when he felt her pussy clenching around him uncontrollably. He slid his arms under hers, hands coming up to grip her shoulders to hold her in place. Her eyes were a glazed over, only focused on his gold chain swinging back and forth as he took her. Her hard little nipples rubbed against the soft hair on his chest when she arched her back, those perfect tits of hers wobbling on her chest. His eyes darted between her beautiful face and those tits as he rocked deep. Nyx cried out his name as the most intense pleasure she’d ever felt jolted through her body, starting at her toes and traveling up her body like a bolt of lightening. Terry groaned loudly when he felt a gush of liquid against his lower belly and her tight little pussy pushed him out. 

Without giving her a moment to recover, he pushed her legs up and latched his lips around her hard little clit. Nyx shrieked, trying desperately to twist away from him. She flipped on her side and tried to crawl away from the intensity of how he was making her feel but Terry had a hold on her. He didn’t let her run and growled against her slick flesh as she gushed again. Terry opened his mouth wide, licking her from her entrance to her clit. He smacked the side of her ass before flipping her onto her belly and pulling her to the edge of the bed. Dick drunk and dazed, she looked at him over his shoulder as he lined himself up. Even knowing she’d already taken him, he still looked intimidating as fuck.

“That's my lil’ baby… You ready for some more?"

His big hands gripped her hips and he let her feel the pressure of his hefty cock against her pussy.

“Mmmhmm.”

“Words baby.”

"Give me more.”

Nyx wailed as he pulled her back against him, giving her every single inch in a slow deep thrust. He stayed deep, letting her feel all of him as he teasingly rocked his hips from side to side. 

“Your pussy looks so goddamn pretty taking me. Fuck.”

Smack!

Smack!

Smack!

SMACK!

The loud clapping of her ass against his thighs filled the room and Nyx arched her back, reaching out with one hand to grip the sheets. Terry leaned over her, dragging his tongue along her spine as he fucked the shit out of her. He was rougher now, knowing that she could take it. With every thrust, his heavy balls smacked her clit. Terry licked his thumb before gently pressing it against her tiny rosette, gaining when she moaned his name. He rubbed in small circles, loving how tight she was around the tip his his finger. His other hand gripped her hip, pulling her back against him. Terry was giving her all of him with every pass and he loved the way her tight little pussy felt around his fat dick.

“Can I cum inside you, baby?”

“Yes!! Please. I want feel it…”

Terry leaned over her body, bracing himself with one hand while his other gripped her swinging breast. He could feel his balls tightening and couldn’t wait to fill her up. 

“Fuck this shit is so good… your pussy is so fucking good, baby.”

Her pussy clenched around him and he groaned loudly.

“Say it, baby… Say you want me to fill that tight little pussy up.”

“I want it, Terry.. Come for me.”

Nyx looked at him over her shoulder and the look on his beautiful face was one she would remember for the rest of her life.

“No one has ever come inside me, baby… I want it to be you. I want you to come inside your pussy.”

“Oohhh… fuck. Is it mine?”

“Yes, baby… Yeeeeeeeeeeeees….”

Her head fell forward as his thrusts got harder. 

“Fuck, I’m about to bust.”

“I wanna feel it.” Her words were slightly slurred and Terry loved that he’d driven her to this point. This beautiful women reduced down to a dick drunk slut, begging for him to ruin her perfect little pussy. Her eyes squeezed shut as her orgasm slammed through her like a fucking freight train and she fought to stay in the moment. His loud roar filled the room as her orgasm snatched his own up out of him. His hips stuttered against her ass and he yanked her tight against him, moaning in her ear as his dick jumped, pumping deep. The heat spread deep in her belly, branding her like nothing she’d ever felt. It felt like…a firehose in her pussy, seeping deep in every crevice. Her throbbing pussy strangled his dick, milking him of every drop. Terry groaned as he he rocked his hips against her ass, feeling the pulses travel from the base of his dick to the engorged head.

“Damn, baby…"

Gentle kisses to the back of her neck brought Nyx back into her body. She smiled as Terry tenderly nuzzled the side of her throat before dropping a sweet kiss to her temple. Even going soft, he was still deep inside her and she found that she liked him there. Terry leaned back, one hand on her hip and the other lifting her ass cheek. As he slowly pulled out, his eyes were locked on her pussy. His wet dick slapped his thigh and there was a wicked smile on his face as he watched his seed begin to leak out.

“Your pussy looks so pretty when it’s full of me.”

Nyx blushed, grateful he couldn’t see her face at the moment. 

“I’ll be right back, baby.”

She felt his weight shift off of the bed and crawled out of the wet spot. She gingerly lowered herself onto her belly, burying her face in her arms. Her body was still humming from all the intense pleasure he’d given her. 

“C’mere.”

Terry gently helped her turn onto her back and began to wipe her down with a warm damp cloth. He shushed her protests as he spread her legs, carefully wiping her reddened pussy down.

“Girl, I just had my mouth all over this pussy. Don’t get shy with me now.”

“It’s…”

“It’s what? I made a mess of you. I’ll clean you up.”

“No one’s ever done that before.”

“Looks like we’re having lots of firsts together,” he murmured softly, his green eyes meeting hers.

That blush of hers was incredibly sexy to him and despite the things he’d just done to her, he loved that she still blushed. After cleaning her up, he lifted her into his arms, carrying her bridal style. On his way out of the room, he flipped the lights off. Nyx wrapped her arms around his neck as he carried her down a darkened hall, wondering where he was taking her.

"You wanna stay the night?” 

“You let all the girls stay?”

He shook his head as he nudged the door open with his foot.

“Just you.”

Nyx glanced around his bedroom, tugging her bottom lip into her mouth.

“I’ll stay.”

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[acknowledge-reigns]

Baddie and The Beast | Jacob Fatu x Black!Fem OC | 18+!

Description: Myra and Jacob meet

Chapter: 1/6

Face Claim: Flo Milli

Warnings: Drinking, strong language, one night stand, p in v, oral (fem receiving), flirting, nipple play, pet names, mention of loss of a loved one.

This is the Jacob x Myra sequel to Swipe Right, Rivals With Benefits and Kiss It Better. As always my stories are NOT about real people and does not reflect their character. This is very much an 18+ BDSM based romance with some comedy thrown in there. If kink content isn't for you, specifically Primal Kink (google if need be) for this one, please scroll. You have been warned.

Word count: 3,159

My masterlist can be found here

Taglist: @lov3rla03 @acute-crashout-jeyuso @adoreesun @Isabella-2025 @skyesthebomb

Flashback, last summer -

Myra sipped her mixed drink sitting at the hotel bar. Kiley and Chris were back in the suite knocked out, but Myra had just been unable to. Her mind was racing.

The trio had just graduated nursing school and decided on a little beach trip before time to get serious about their new volunteer jobs at the free clinic. Today also just so happened to be the 6 year anniversary of her dad's death. Every year she tries to push it out of her head and focus on other things. She was well aware of the safety issue, being a woman drinking alone in a strange city, which is why she left a note for Kiley and Chris that she was going down to the hotel bar. Not just that but she only plans to have the one drink.

Myra stared at her drink, swirling the liquid around as her thoughts swirled within her. The ice cubes clinked against the glass, echoing the turmoil in her heart. Despite her attempts to push away the painful memories, they always found a way to surface on this day.

After the live show, Jacob Fatu was beyond exhausted. His body aches from taking one too many nasty bumps in his match tonight.

He trudges into the hotel bar, his expression grim as he searches for a place to sit. The dim lighting and low murmur of conversation do little to soothe his nerves. He spots an empty stool at the end of the bar and makes his way over, wincing slightly as he sits down.

The bartender, a middle-aged man with a tired expression, approaches him. "What can I get ya?" he asks, his voice gruff but friendly.

"Jack and coke, please," Jacob orders, The bartender nods and turns to make the drink, leaving Jacob alone with his thoughts once again.

As he waits for his drink, Jacob's eyes scan the room, his gaze settling on a woman sitting a couple of seats down. She's sipping on a mixed drink, her expression distant and lost in thought. He can't help but notice the sadness in her eyes.

The bartender returns with his drink, setting it down in front of him. Jacob takes a sip, letting the burn of the alcohol distract him from his own aches and pains. His eyes flicker back to the woman, his curiosity piqued by her melancholy demeanor.

Jacob watches her out of the corner of his eye, his gaze lingering on her delicate features. She's beautiful, but there's something more to her, something that draws him in despite himself. He finds himself debating whether or not to strike up a conversation with her.

As he ponders, she glances up and catches his gaze. Their eyes lock for a moment, and a jolt of electricity shoots through him. She quickly looks away, but the damage is done. Jacob's interest is piqued, and he can't resist the urge to approach her.

He downs the rest of his drink, his heart racing with a mixture of nerves and anticipation. Taking a deep breath, he slides off the stool and walks over to where she's sitting. He clears his throat, trying to sound casual as he speaks.

"Hey," he says, his voice rough yet friendly. "Mind if I join you?"

She looks up at him, her eyes widening slightly in surprise. "Um, sure," she replies, gesturing to the empty seat next to her. "Go ahead."

He takes a seat, the proximity to her causing his heart to beat even faster. Up close, he can see the subtle lines of worry etched on her face, the weariness in her eyes. "You look like you've had a rough night," he comments, hoping to strike up a conversation.

She glances at him, a small, wry smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "You could say that," she replies, her voice soft and tired. She wasn't going to trauma dump on a complete stranger how her dad had been killed in a robbery gone wrong."You look like you been dragged to hell and back."

Jacob chuckles, wincing slightly as the movement sends a twinge of pain through his sore muscles. "I'm a professional wrestler." he explains, rolling his shoulders to ease some of the tension. "Takes a lot out of you."

"Ah, so that explains the bruises," she says, nodding in understanding. Her eyes roam over his body, taking in the various marks and scars that litter his skin with curiosity noticing the small wound on his head. "Doesn't look like you need stitches but you might wanna get that checked out."

"You're a doctor or something?" he asks, noticing the keen observation in her gaze.

"No, actually," she replies, though there's still a sense of pride in her voice. "I'm a nurse. Just graduated."

"Impressive," he says, genuinely admiring her accomplishment. "Congrats, beautiful."

Myra smiles softly, and she looks down at her drink, avoiding his gaze. "Thanks," she mumbles, clearly unused to being complimented like that. Her friends were supportive of course but still. "I'm Myra, by the way."

"Jacob," he replies, holding out his hand for her to shake. "Nice to meet you, Myra."

She takes his hand, her touch sending a small shiver down his spine. Her skin is soft and cool against his calloused palm, a stark contrast to the roughness of his own. They hold hands for a moment longer than necessary before she lets go, her heart skipping a beat. When was the last time a man gave her butterflies? oh right. Her high school sweetheart Devon who had ultimately cheated on her, broke her heart and made her swear off relationships for the foreseeable future.

Myra pushes the memories of Devon aside, focusing on the man in front of her. There was something about Jacob that intrigued her, despite the fact that he was a total stranger. Something about his tattoos, and the jewelry in his locs. His rugged appearance, his confident demeanor, and the way he looked at her with a mixture of curiosity and admiration all made her feel seen in a way she hadn't in a long time.

They sit in silence for a moment, each lost in their own thoughts. The air between them is charged with an unspoken tension, and it's making Myra's heart race. She steals a glance at him, taking in the way his muscles ripple under his shirt as he moves. He catches her looking, a small smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

"See something you like?" he asks, his voice low and suggestive.

Myra pauses a moment and sips her drink to hide how embarrassed she was at being caught staring. "I was just...um..." she stammers, searching for an excuse.

Jacob grins, clearly enjoying her flustered state. "No need to be shy," he says, leaning closer to her. "I don't mind you looking."

His proximity makes her heart pound even harder in her chest. She can smell his cologne, a masculine scent that sends a shiver down her spine. She tries to maintain her composure, but it's difficult with him so close to her. "What if I'm tryna do more than look?" she said seductively.

Jacob's eyes darken at her words, his gaze raking over her body. "Shit, I just hope you know what you getting into, babygirl," he replies, his voice husky with desire.

Myra's breath hitches at the pet name, her body reacting instinctively to the way he says it. She meets his gaze, her eyes filled with a mixture of desire and challenge. "Oh, I think I can handle it," she says, her voice steady despite the butterflies in her stomach.

The tension between them reaches its boiling point, and before they know it, they're stumbling out of the bar and up to the 5th floor.

As soon as they reach his room, Jacob pushes Myra up against the door, his lips crashing down on hers in a fierce, passionate kiss. She melts into him, her body arching against his as she returns the kiss with equal fervor.

They stumble their way into the room, barely managing to make it to the bed before their clothes are being torn off. Jacob's hands roam over her body, his touch both gentle and rough at the same time. He nips at her neck, leaving a trail of love bites in his wake as he moves down to her collarbone.

Myra moans softly as he continues his exploration of her body. She can feel the roughness of his stubble against her skin, sending shivers down her spine yet again. Her nails scrape against his back, leaving red marks in their wake.

Jacob groans at the sensation, his hips grinding against hers as he moves lower. He kisses and licks his way down her chest, his lips closing around one of her nipples. He teases it with his tongue, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin as he looks up at her through hooded eyes.

Myra's back arches off the bed, her breath coming in short gasps as he continues his assault on her body. She can feel the heat pooling between her legs, her desire for him growing with every touch and every kiss.

Jacob smirks against her skin, sensing her growing need. He moves lower, trailing kisses down her stomach until he reaches the apex of her thighs. He looks up at her again, his eyes dark with lust. "You want this, babygirl?" he asks, his voice rough with desire.

Myra nods, unable to form coherent words. She can feel his breath against her sensitive skin, and it's driving her wild. She wants him, needs him, more than she's ever needed anyone before.

Without waiting another second, Jacob dives in, his tongue exploring her with expert precision. He knows exactly how to touch her, how to make her writhe and moan beneath him. His fingers grip her thighs, holding her in place as he devours her.

Myra's hands fist in the sheets, her body arching off the bed as waves of pleasure wash over her. She can feel herself getting closer and closer to the edge, her moans growing louder and more desperate with each passing second. "Jacob, please," she gasps, her voice trembling with need.

Jacob grins against her, his tongue flicking over her sensitive clit. He can tell she's close, and he's determined to push her over the edge. He doubles his efforts, his movements becoming more urgent as he brings her closer and closer to her release.

Myra's body trembles, her legs shaking as she teeters on the edge of ecstasy. She can feel the tension building within her, every nerve ending in her body tingling with anticipation. And then, with a final flick of his tongue, she shatters, her orgasm washing over her in a wave of pure bliss.

As Myra comes down from her high, Jacob reaches over to the bedside table and grabs a condom. He rips it open with his teeth, his eyes never leaving hers as he rolls it on.

He moves over her, his body hovering above hers as he positions himself at her entrance. "You ready for me, babygirl?" he asks, his voice rough with desire.

Myra nods, her body still sensitive from her orgasm. She wraps her legs around his waist, pulling him closer. "Yes, please," she breathes, her voice trembling with anticipation.

With a low growl, Jacob thrusts into her, burying himself to the hilt. He stills for a moment, allowing her to adjust to his size, before starting to move. His pace is rough and urgent, his hips snapping against hers as he takes her hard and fast.

Myra's nails rake down his back, leaving red trails in their wake as she clings to him. She meets his thrusts with her own, her body arching off the bed as she matches his rhythm. Her moans fill the room, mingling with the sound of their bodies coming together.

Jacob's grip on her hips tightens, his fingers digging into her skin as he pounds into her relentlessly. Sweat drips down his forehead, his muscles straining with the effort of holding back his own release. "Fuck, you feel so good," he groans, his voice hoarse with pleasure.

Myra's walls flutter around him, the sensation sending him closer to the edge. He can feel her body tightening around him, signaling that she's close again. "Come for me, babygirl," he growls, his eyes locked on hers.

With a few more hard thrusts, Myra is coming undone again, her body shaking with the force of her orgasm. Her walls clench around him, pulling him deeper inside her as she cries out his name.

The feeling of her coming apart beneath him sends Jacob over the edge as well. He buries his face in her neck, his hips stuttering as he empties himself into the condom. His body shudders with pleasure, his grip on her hips tightening as he rides out his orgasm.

They collapse onto the bed, their bodies tangled together as they struggle to catch their breath. Well Damn.

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴

Present Day -

Kiley and Zilla had been dating for months now and felt it was time for them to officially move in together. As they packed up their things, they realized they needed some extra help moving all their belongings. Kiley's best friend, Myra, and Zilla's cousin, Jacob, had both offered to lend a hand.

Myra arrived at Kiley and Zilla's new place, ready to help with the move. As she walked in, she saw Jacob and Zilla lifting a heavy piece of furniture. Her heart skipped a beat as she recognized him, but he didn't seem to recognize her.

Myra stood there for a moment, her eyes fixed on Jacob as he moved with ease, muscles flexing under his tight ass muscle shirt. She couldn't help but feel a pang of desire as she remembered their night together last summer.

Jacob continued to work, completely oblivious to Myra's presence. He was focused on the task at hand, his attention solely on helping Zilla. He wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand.

Kiley saw Myra standing there and quickly went over to greet her best friend with a hug, "Hey Bookie"

Myra returned the hug, tearing her eyes away from Jacob for a moment. "Hey Le," she said, trying to act nonchalant. But her heart was still racing at the sight of him.

Kiley noticed the look on Myra's face and gave her a soft smile. "You okay? You seem a little... distracted," she asked.

"Huh? Yeah. I'm fine." Myra said

Kiley chuckled and raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure? You're staring at Jacob like he's a piece of meat," she said with a smirk.

"What? No, I'm not," she protested, trying to play it cool. But she knew she had been caught.

"Not what?" Zilla asked as he and Jacob approached.

Myra's heart skipped a beat as Jacob walked closer, his eyes meeting hers for the first time. She could feel her cheeks heating up, and she silently cursed herself for being so obvious.

Zilla and Kiley exchanged a knowing look, both of them noticing the tension between Myra and Jacob.

Jacob's gaze lingered on Myra for a moment, she looked familiar but he couldn't place her.

"Hey, I don't think we've met," Jacob said, extending a hand to Myra. "I'm Jacob, Zilla's cousin."

Myra took his hand, her skin tingling at the touch. "Myra," she said, trying to keep her voice steady. "I'm Kiley's best friend."

Jacob's grip was firm, and he held her hand for a moment longer than necessary. His eyes searched her face, still trying to figure out why she looked so familiar.

Zilla watched the interaction between Myra and Jacob, a smirk playing on his lips. He knew his cousin was attracted to Myra, and he couldn't wait to see how this would play out.

Kiley nudged Zilla with her elbow, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Looks like someone's got a thing for Myra," she whispered.

Zilla chuckled quietly, "Ah shit. We get to bet on someone's love life this time? I bet they hook up within a week."

Kiley grinned, "Oh you're on. I bet it'll take them at least a month."

Zilla shook his head, "Too long. They're already attracted to each other, it's obvious. Give it a week."

"We're right here, dumbasses." Myra sighs

Zilla and Kiley both turn to look at Myra, grins on their faces. "We know," Zilla said with a smirk.

"And we don't care," Kiley added, winking at her friend. "You and Jacob are totally attracted to each other, it's only a matter of time before you give in."

Myra rolled her eyes, trying to act annoyed but secretly feeling a thrill at the thought of giving in to her attraction to Jacob.

Jacob, who had been listening to the conversation, couldn't help but smirk. He found Myra's feisty attitude endearing, and he was starting to wonder what it would be like to see her completely unravel.

Jacob, not one to waste time, took a step closer to Myra. "Hey, can I ask you something?" he asked, his voice low and confident.

Myra's heart skipped a beat at his tone, but she tried to maintain her cool exterior. "What is it?" she asked, meeting his gaze with a raised eyebrow.

"Would you want to go out with me sometime?" he asked, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

Myra was taken aback by the question, and for a moment, she was speechless. She hadn't expected him to be so direct, and her mind was racing with conflicting emotions.

Zilla and Kiley watched the exchange with bated breath, eager to see how Myra would respond.

Myra took a deep breath, trying to compose herself. "I...I, No." she said hesitantly, her heart pounding in her chest.

Jacob's smile faltered for a moment, but he quickly recovered. "Really? Why not?" he asked, trying to hide his disappointment.

"You figure out why." Myra said sharply, "Kiley, I'ma head home, boo. Love you. Peace, Zilla."

Zilla and Kiley exchanged a look, both of them surprised by Myra's response and confused.

Kiley shrugged, "Damn, I thought she'd go for it."

Zilla chuckled, "Guess we'll have to reevaluate our bet."

Kiley nodded in agreement, "Yeah, no way was she going to say no for no reason. Something's going on with her."

"I'm gon' head out too, Uce." Jacob tells Zilla.

Zilla nodded, "Alright, man. See you later."

He watched as Jacob left, still reeling from Myra's rejection.

Zilla turned to Kiley, a thoughtful expression on his face. "You think we should talk to her about it?" he asked.

"I'd rather you fuck me all over our new house. Break it in good." Kiley said.

Zilla chuckled, his eyes darkening with desire. "Now that's an offer I can't refuse."