Jaylan

22 ♎️

[crude-saint-deactivated20260130]

HEATED

pairing: hockey players toji and sukuna x fem!reader

synopsis: being best friends with two hockey stars came with it's perks; including being their fuck toy after tournaments.

contents: MDNI/NSFW, hockey stars au, i watched heated rivalry guys, m/f/m, explicit smut, semi-public sex, unprotected sex, toji and kuna are meannnn, implied tojikuna, smoking, party scene, car sex, sending nudes, couldn't-even-make-it-to-their-place, f! and m! masturbation, voyeurism, kissing, degrading, praising, endearments, dacryphilia, pussy slapping, ass slapping/impact play, tit sucking, piv, pia, double penetration, anal, stomach bulge, overstimulation, orgasm denial, LOTS of filth.

Being best friends with the two hottest hockey players on campus came with it’s perks. Even if they got on each other’s nerves from who could score the most points, to who was the MVP, to who you favored—you relished in it.

For one, you had an automatic entry to any function you wanted to attend.

Heads turn the second you walk in, prickling and hair-raising. Glares from girls who wish they were in your position, or guys who wanted you for themselves, too busy dragging their eyeline up your bare legs to the swell of your ass below your oversized T-shirt to say a word.

“I heard the meeting with their managers ran long and they’re exhausted. Did they say anything to you?”

“You know anything about them coming tonight?”

“This is probably really stupid… but do you know if Sukuna got my text from two days ago?”

You plop down on the sofa, legs crossed lazily and a bleak stare heavy in your eyes as a girl passes you her joint. The words from your peers surrounding you blur into convoluted nonsense, intangible. All you know is you miss the company of your best friends, and they should be making an appearance tonight according to their text you read earlier so why ruin the surprise?

The smoke billows in your lungs—warm, and enough to dull the blinding neon lights and suffocating atmosphere reeking of stale beer and sweat. You’re not even a huge fan of parties, but this is where they wanted you.

Thud.

A grin crawls up the corner of your mouth as the doors swing open.

What people don’t know is that your friendship with the two hockey stars went further than most regular friendships.

The room seems to tilt the second they step past the threshold. Clearly freshly showered, the tips of their raven and salmon hair dripping beneath their hoods, the scent of body wash infiltrating your nostrils over the intoxicating ale and ash. You scowl when your eyes drop down to Toji’s pelvis, realizing that he hadn’t even cared to throw on underwear, his thick cock slapping against his thigh beneath his sweatpants and creating an imprint on the thin fabric.

The salivary glands in your mouth start working.

You sigh, tossing your head back like you’re inconvenienced before handing the blunt back, anticipating bubbling in your gut. “Sorry, guys. My ride’s here.”

Sukuna’s lip peels back into a pleased smirk when he realizes you’re sporting his graphic tee this time around instead of Toji’s, head tilting downwards as you saunter past both towering men without a word, clearly understanding your sexual innuendo that seems to float above everyone elses head. Those red-rimmed eyes are glued to your ass as you slip out the front door and towards Toji’s car. It’s only when a smack lands against the back of his head that he’s rooted back in reality.

“Perv,” Toji snarls, clicking his tongue in mirth.

Sukuna shoves his shoulder into the hockey forward, baring his canines. “You were just telling me you missed her tits.”

The jade-eyed green man shrugs, slipping his hood off. “First one outside gets to come on those tits.”

Sukuna doesn’t wait for a countdown from his friend, sprinting past the crowd and to his car where you wait patiently, Toji clipping his heels with a frown.

Oh, and another thing that people didn’t know, is that the two men reveled in fighting over you. Maybe it was the common athletes competitive nature, but you weren’t complaining.

You grab Toji’s hoodie from the backseat and slip it on, some gripe on your tongue about how cold it is outside, simply wanting to see the jealous flicker in those crimson eyes in the backseat. Toji’s fingers curl around the steering wheel, tallying another win onto his imaginary board in his head.

“Y’know, everyone in there missed you guys,” you start, biting the grin on the inside of your cheek, watching the treeline blur in the dark of the night.

“S’that so?” Sukuna asks, running his tongue over his teeth. He’s too focused on the thought of those pretty lips suctioning around his cock that’s practically screaming your name.

“Did you guys miss me?” you seek, turning over to face the both of them, batting your eyelashes. Heat is already pooling in your loins from the sheer desire rolling off the two men you hadn’t seen in weeks since they had a tournament out of town, but egging them on is so much more fun before giving them a taste.

“Fuck yeah,” Toji groans in irritation like it’s out of question, eyeline darting over towards you from the driver’s seat, just to trail down to your legs. “You miss us, ma?”

Cue the desperation.

Angling your back against the door, a whine of assent trickles from your lips, a pout hanging from your lower lip. You nod, your hand sliding down your navel and disappearing along the apex of your thighs.

“Fuckkkk.” The elongated groan comes from the backseat, voice terrifyingly raspy and deep, and you can see Sukuna pressing a hand against his clothed cock.

You lick your lips, lithe fingers sliding past the waistband of your shorts and pressing the gusset of your panties. Damp, coated in saccharine arousal. “It’s been so hard,” you whimper, lashes fluttering shut, painting circles over your silky folds above your underwear. “You guys know my fingers can’t reach that deep.”

You can hear Toji’s breath hitch, air stripped from his lungs at the lewd sight. His pretty best friend, touching herself in his hoodie, in his car.

“Yeah? Couldn’t make yourself cum like we make you?” Sukuna poses, already shuffling his sweatpants off along with his boxers, erection springing up and against his hoodie.

You sigh despondently. “Mhm. Will you guys help me now that you’re back?”

You already know the answer. It’s just too much fun watching the lust suffocate the both of them.

Sukuna’s grin splits wide across his face, fingers curling around his hard-rock shaft.

“We’re gonna make you cum so hard you cry.”

—

“O-Oh my fuckkk.”

You’re straddling Toji in the backseat, hoodie and T-shirt long discarded, his raw cock pressing past the ring of resistance slick with arousal, dipping into your pussy. He’s got both hands on your tits, squeezing the flesh and pressing his face into them, soft groans leaving his lips. Hands rough, calloused, needy.

Sukuna’s standing outside the parked car, one hand on your waist as he feeds his unprotected cock into your ass, tossing his head back with a moan to echo into the night.

You shudder, tears biting your waterline, the stretch unbearable. Yeah, you’ve taken them both at the same time before, but it’d been so long since you last saw them that you’re struggling to adjust.

“Relax, girl,” Sukuna grits out from above, watching your body tense up. With only the tip in, he’s fighting back his pleasure to fully bottom out, but he needs you to release the tension first or else you’ll get hurt in the process. “I’ve got you.”

“What he said,” Toji sighs muffled, his cock slipping in deeper and punching a moan from you. A hand of his slips down past the valley of your breasts to find your clit, stimulating the neglected bundle of nerves. “If you don’t ease up, how am I supposed to cum on these tits?”

That earns a strained laugh from you, hands digging into his broad chest. Your stomach inverts when you realize you’re the only one fully naked here, resting your head on Toji’s shoulder and letting out a shuddered breath.

“You have no idea how much we missed you,” Toji whispers into your ear, husky and breathless like he needs to thrust up into you.

“Oh, I’ve got an i-idea,” you retort, thinking back on the picture Sukuna sent you from their hotel room.

Both of them, standing in front a mirror, jerking themselves off to the picture you sent of your tits.

“Did you guys kiss after?” you quiz, feeling your walls flutter around their shafts, slowly sucking them in.

Sukuna gasps, eyebrows drawing inwards as he watches him and his best friend disappear inside you, cock spasming inside your walls. “You’d like that shit, wouldn’t you?”

You shrug, tongue darting out from your mouth to wet your lips, lifting yourself up to press back into their cocks.

The moan you release is nothing short of pornographic, sinful.

“Maybe.”

“Oh, doll,” Toji grunts, hands coming up to smack your ass. “Feels so much fuckin’ better than I remember.”

Your arousal leaks onto them, and soon enough, they’ve bottomed out their massive cocks into you, practically pressing into your fucking lungs. Your face twists up as Toji’s cock presses up against your sweet spot, dribbling precum inside you, your ass squeezing Sukuna’s cock like a vice.

And if Toji and Sukuna aren’t losing themselves in you—Toji pressing forward to suck onto your tits and leave love bites you’ll sure will bruise by morning, Sukuna pressing a splayed palm into the small of your back just to see that sinful arch.

“Keep squeezin’ me like that and, fuck, I’ll cum inside your ass,” Sukuna huffs, sweat building above his furrowed brows, slowly beginning to thrust into your puckering hole. “Don’t need much from you, brat.”

The veins you’ve memorized on both their cocks—whether from fisted handjobs or tracing your tongue up their lengths—drag against your gummy walls, sucking the air from your lungs. You can barely form a coherent sentence, feeling so unbearably and deliciously filled by their dicks, your maw hanging open.

The car is filled with sloppy, slick noises of them burying their cocks into you, animalistic grunts and groans, muttered praises that slip into filthy degradation.

“Doing so well, this sweet pussy.”

“You can take it. Say it, baby.”

“Fuckin’ whore. Ya need two cocks to get off, huh?”

Sukuna suddenly grips your wrists and wrenches you backwards, splitting your further on both dicks. A strangled gasp is ripped from you, stomaching caving inward, Toji propping his head up on two arms, enjoying the show.

“Well, would ya look at that,” he taunts, pools of jade honed in on your stomach. “Looks like we’re givin’ her a little bulge.”

You follow his blown pupils, gut erupting in butterflies where you see a thick outline pressing against your abdomen.

Too. Fucking. Much.

“Oh f-fucking hell,” you gasp, the sound bordering on a cry.

Sukuna peers past your shoulder, a muscle in his jaw pulsing at the delicious sight. Both of his best friends, laid out and groaning like it’s their last day on earth.

You squirm in Sukuna’s hold, their mushroomed tips pistoning deep enough to slate your brain of anything. All you can focus on is how fucking good this feels. Their maddening cadence doesn’t slow, no. If anything, it only quickens.

Fuck. The stamina of an athlete.

Heat fists in your gut, threatening to uncoil. You squeal unabashedly, barely able to keep up with how each rut knocks the wind out of you. Your orgasm is approaching, and very soon, while these two don’t look like they’ll be done with you anytime soon.

“I-I’m gonna cum!” you spill out, Toji’s fingers finding your clit again.

Toji pouts, leaning forward and cocking his head. “Is that so? Where are your manners, sweetheart?”

A maniacal laugh erupts from Sukuna’s chest, sounding straight into your ear.

How could you forget how cruel they can be?

“You didn’t even ask.”

Your lip quivers, vision turning blurry with the overstimulation. Toji pinches your clit when you don’t answer, your arms fighting against the burning restraint Sukuna is holding you back with.

“May I c-cum?”

“… please.”

Your breath is sucked from your chest. “Please?”

Toji smacks your cunt, your body jolting, his grin dipping into something wicked. “Cum on our cocks.”

The orgasm that hits you is so blinding, your ears ring while a scream is ripped from your throat, black wiping out your vision. They sheath themselves to the fucking hilt, holding their cocks still inside of you, keeping you stretched and full.

Sukuna releases his hold, your body falling limp onto Toji who catches your body against his chest. You shudder, their strokes picking up slowly, allowing you to ride out your orgasm. Sukuna leans forward, pressing kisses against your shoulder.

“You know how competitive me and Fushiguro get, right?” he breathes into your ear, catching your earlobe between his teeth while you squirm.

It’s too much, all too much. Sukuna’s cock nestled too deep, Toji still toying with your bud.

You nod, every muscle in your body aching and screaming from the exertion.

“Well, we made a bet tonight.”

Your ears perk up at the sound of Sukuna’s smooth words.

“W-what bet?”

Toji’s grin widens against his your hairline where he’s peppering soft kisses.

“Ya wanna do the honors?” Toji smirks, his free hand finding your ass to knead the supple flesh.

“We made a bet on how many times we could make you cum tonight. How much you’d be able to give us.”

You still, nerves blooming behind your ribs.

“How much did you guys bet?”

Sukuna straightens, running his fingers through his hair. “Don’t worry your pretty lil’ head about it. You’ll find that out once you tap out.”

You scoff, turning back to glower. “Who says you guys won’t tap out first?”

The two men exchange a knowing look, then give you a slow appraisal.

Your skin flares in embarrassment, their eyes trailing the state of your body more grueling than being fucked by the both of them at the same time.

Sukuna shrugs noncommittally, but the shit-eating grin tells you everything you need to know.

“Just a hunch.”

You’re fucked.

[isabelckl]

texting loser!ellie that you have nipple piercing in class masterlist

bored in english, you reply to a girl named E you’ve been talking to on an anonymous gay dating app—without knowing it’s that lesbian nerd girl, ellie williams.

cw: externalized homophobia, suggestive themes, flirty tension, emotional repression, gay yearning, unresolved feelings, ellie is a loser she’s basically on the floor.

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | ♡ | part 6 | part 7 part 8 | part 9 | part 10 | part 11 |

[prettyinpink69]

Pink's christmas countdown!!

Day 18: Put on a show, Ms Claus ♥︎

Wc: 1.9k

Warnings: mentions and use of dr*gs (weed), masturbation, lots of teasing, exhibitionism, orgasm control, edging, praise, dacryphilia, fingering (r!receiving), degradation, squirting, overstimulation. + aftercare!

Reblogs help a bunch and would be appreciated <3

Ellie had been real busy the past week, people were stocking up for the holidays- being a weed dealer had it's pros and cons. Being busy meant more money, but being busy meant less time with her girl. Pros and cons right?

"30 minutes baby, give me 30 minutes. I've got 2 more drops to do, but they're on the way home. Just wait for me okay?" Ellie sighed softly into her phone. You had called her to ask where the hell she was, if she was safe. Being gone for 4 hours was not normal- even when she was busy. "30 minutes. Then I'm going home."

You say sternly down the phone. Ellie knew you were waiting for her at her apartment. What she didn't know was that you were laid there in a sexy Ms Claus lingerie set waiting for her. "Yes ma'am." She teases your fake stern voice.

You didn't want to laugh but you couldn't hold back the small snort you let out. "God you're irritating. Come home baby..." there's silence from Ellie's end of the phone, and the microphone muffles a little bit. "Ellie?"

After a few more second the line stops muffling and she replies. "Sorry baby, was just putting my headphones in." You let out a small sigh of relief, thanking god she okay. "I'll be home soon. I love you."

You return the 'I love you' before Ellie abruptly hangs up. You know she doesn't mean it, it's a habit she picked up from having to speak to 'clients' on the phone constantly. Now all you had to do was wait...

⊹˚₊‧•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

After another 36 minutes exactly in Ellie's apartment alone, you realise it's extremely boring without Ellie here. Though your boredom is quickly replaced by excitement when you hear the front door open. "Baby I'm home! I'm so fucking sorry I'm late!" She rambles as she kicks off her converse, searching the apartment for any sight of you. "My last client was already high and chatting my ear off about Christmas and I- holy fuck."

You heard her voice getting closer, and then she opened the door. Seeing you dressed in next to nothing, wrapped up pretty like a present just for her. "Welcome home baby..." you smirk and crawl to the edge of the bed on all fours. "Best day of my life... for sure." She mumbles as she shrugs her jacket off, each step bringing her closer.

She tilts your chin up as she reaches the edge of the bed, looking down at you, her eyes dark and filled with lust. "I thought I'd give you an early Christmas present..." you smile as she runs her thumb over your bottom lip. Ellie groans when you take her thumb into your mouth, seductively sucking on the digit, in an almost identical way to her strap. "Merry fucking Christmas to me."

You swirl your tongue around her thumb, taking the whole digit between your lips before letting go of it with a loud 'pop'. "Get comfy baby, I rolled you a joint and everything..." Ellie's brows furrow slightly. The last thing she wanted to do right now was lay down and smoke. She wanted- no needed to be touching you. "But I just got ho-"

You clamp a hand over her mouth, giggling at her as she licks you palm. "I have this whole thing planned. Please just go with it?" She bites your palm, how your not sure because the angle is awkward, but you don't overthink it. Your hand jerks away from her mouth, revealing her smirk. "Fine. But only because I want to see what it is, but I will be getting my hands on you."

Ellie then undressed, stripping to her sports bra and boxers before sitting down in the middle of the bed, her back up against the headboard. "I plan on it..." you mumble as you crawl towards her, grabbing the ash tray from the beside table and placing it in her lap. You also grab the lighter and joint, lighting it up you take one long drag, leaving a bright red lipstick stain on it before you pass it to Ellie. "Jesus fuck..."

You move down the bed to sit at the foot of the bed. Flipping up the skirt of your Ms Claus outfit, you spread your legs, revealing your bare pussy, glistening and ready. "It's pretty lingerie, isn't it els?" Ellie couldn't tear her eyes away, the joint hung between her lips, her fingers digging into her thighs.

"It's real pretty baby... fuck it's.. yeah." Ellie shifts her own cunt already weeping, and you hadn't even done anything yet. You run your fingers through your folds, dipping the tips of your fore finger and middle finger intp your sopping hole, dragging your wetness up and over your clit, moaning softly as you do. "I was waitin' for you els... needed you so badly... look-"

You pull your fingers away and show her the wetness glistening on them, only to bring them to your mouth, holding eye contact as you suck them clean. Ellie was sure she had died and gone to heaven, because there was no way this was real. "Go on Ms claus. Put on a show for me..." she takes a long drag of the joint, she'd need it. She had to do something to stop herself from ravaging you right there.

⊹˚₊‧•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

Ellie was convinced she was too high, or you were too fucking perfect. Sat there with your fingers stuffed deep in your pretty little cunt, moaning her name as you fucked yourself silly. "Keep goin' baby... I told you, you're not cumming until I've smoked this joint."

Her fingers were twitching on her own thigh, the other ashing her joint as she watched you squirm, whining about how it's unfair. No what was unfair, was that you were her teasing the absolute shit out of her, and she had to gain control over you before you manged to turn her into a desperate mess. "Ellie pleaseee I needa' cum.. please please..."

Your hips buck and squirm, trying to get away from your own fingers, which were curing up into your g-spot with each pump of your hand. It was self torture. "I'm nearly done... be a good girl f' me yeah?" God her raspy voice when she was high was enough to get you off. The coil in your lower tummy tightens even more, you slow you hand to keep from squirting everywhere. "Not fairrr... please.. els please!" You start to cry, overwhelmed and so fucking needy it hurt.

Yeah. Ellie was sadistic. The sight of your tears staining your perfect, smooth cheeks, your mascara running with them... her pussy clenched. "A little more... just a little more baby, you can do it." She takes another long drag, watching the joint dwindle down, getting closer and closer the the roach each time.

You choke on your tears as another pathetic moan rips its way from your lips. "I- I can't... I can't els I'm gonna- oh goddd..." you whine, humping your own hand as you try to hold off your impending orgasm. You hadn't been watching Ellie, too focused on not cumming to realise she'd finished her joint, ashed it out and placed the ash tray on the bedside table- but she wasn't going to tell you that. Why would she when she can watch you cry so prettily?

"Bein' such a good girl f' me baby... keep goin' that's it..." Ellie talks you through it as she slips her own hand into her boxers, dipping her long, slim fingers into her own cunt, hearing it squelch at the intrusion. "My god..." she groans quietly, giving herself a few pumps of the hand before she pulls her hand away, sucking her fingers clean.

She grabs your ankle, grabbing your attention. "Come here baby.. lemme look at you." You whimper and sniffle as you clumsily crawl over to Ellie, her hands helping your settle on her lap, your thighs spread over hers. "You... you finished your smoke!" You whine when you realise you could've came. She chuckles and wipes the tears from your cheeks, smearing the mascara leaving black smudges all over your face. Perfect.

"I did, and now babygirl, I'm gonna make you cum so hard you forget all about why you're mad at me right now..." and before you can protest, her hand is between your legs, two long, slim fingers running through your folds easily before she sinks them into your hole, earning her a loud moan. "Mmph f-fuck ellie..."

Your hands find her shoulders, nails digging into her skin as your hips buck, bouncing yourself up and down on her fingers, meeting her thrusts. "There we go... there's my slutty girl, using me to get this greedy little pussy off..." she whispers as her teeth sink into the sensitive skin of your neck.

The feeling of her teeth dragging along your skin before she bites down, claiming and marking what was hers had you tightening around her digits. "Els please... please wanna cum so b-bad please..." Ellie can't help it, your pretty little whimpers and whines were making her damn near feral. She stuffs a third finger into your sopping hole, pumping them harder and faster, listening to your whines get louder.

"Then cum for me babygirl, show me how pretty this slutty little cunt is soaking my hand." Ellie practically growls, her thumb moving back and fourth on your clit. With the added stimulation, along with her degrading words you let go. "Ellie! Oh my f-fucking god!-"

Your tits press firmly against hers as your back arches, thighs squeezing on either side of hers. She groans as you soak her hand and thighs, your pussy gushing and squirting everywhere, making one hell of a mess. "Good fucking girl, makin' a big mess f' me..." her voice was low and raspy from the smoke, only adding to your orgasm.

"E-els... o-okay too much.. t-too much..." you whine and squirm, trying to get away from her fingers as your orgasm subsides. She slows her fingers before pulling them out, letting another gush of squirt leak from your greedy, dripping wet pussy. "Made quite a mess there babygirl..." you watch as she sucks her fingers clean, humming happily at the taste.

You drag your hands up her shoulders yo cup her face. "Was supposed to be your Christmas present..." you mumble against her lips as you kiss her lazily. Ellie returns the kiss, her arms wrapping around your waist, helping to keep you upright. "And it was. Best present I could've asked for, my girl satisfied and fucked out."

You let Ellie lay you down, half watching her as she leaves to go turn the shower on. You hear the water running for a while before she returns to the bedroom, now naked and holding her hand out to you. "Come on baby, let's get you cleaned up hm?"

You nod and let her help your tired body to the bathroom. You were so fucking lucky to have Ellie, and you would never, ever take her for granted. Maybe you could help her out in the shower...

TAGLIST: @vikas-girlfriend @superobservationdreamwitch @strawwbby @callmeazu @sevikasangel @arealmissunderstood @kittiesdotcom @lonerslug @celinealways @riotstemple29 @rawrspacecat @lesbab-panik @battylittlefox @riveramorylunar @thefantasticmissvixen @madsxh1022 @lesfortlouandarcane @georgiahs-stuff @justagirlexisting @nkeyaaa @vhsluvv @ash273819 @sevikafavoritefrenchgirl @blessupblessup @dastardlysigh @klmr0 @meggarang @tourtoise234 @azxteria @libbyofc @arcanehellokittyforlife69 @aizawatittie @fragile-angell @sooodie @largedawndishso @l4dyaranea @georgiahs-stuff @idkkmp @thislesbean @angelz-void @willsloveshergf @kylorey25 @izzy-sevika @rudymoon @hitmehardmommy @kaikaikaifin @theoreticalfreak @ghostedxoxo @neptunezxx @culuvr

[myhobari-deactivated20260417]

Can I request Lando from all American homecoming? (Martin bobb semple if you wanna do his actor instead) it doesn’t matter what it is honestly but I’d love it if he acted like a little shit like he did in the show 😂

- all star

lando johnson x black reader

summary - you’re assigned the grave task of tutoring baseball prodigy lando johnson… but things go outside of your assigned task.

fluff (no warnings!)

a/n: never seen any all american show a day in my life but he’s fine as hell… may have to start.

masterlist

————————————————————————

You weren’t exactly sure why you decided to tutor him.

Well, you did know — your professor asked, and you couldn’t really say no when it meant extra credit and some cash. But seriously. Of all the students, it had to be Lando.

Lando Johnson: the smooth talker, the star athlete, and the self-proclaimed ladies' man. The dude who never passed up a chance to crack jokes in class, lounging back in his chair like he wasn’t even trying to take notes, and who totally winked at you the first time you walked into the library.

Now he was sprawled out across the table in front of you, twirling a pen between his fingers, flashing a grin like he had all the answers.

“Alright,” you said, opening up his notebook. “Let’s start with the basics. Do you even remember what we covered last week?”

“Of course,” he said smoothly, leaning forward. “You walked in wearing that blue hoodie, sat down across from me, and told me to stop staring.”

You blinked, totally unamused. “I meant in class.”

“Oh,” he replied with a smirk. “Then... no.”

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. This was going to be a nightmare.

⸻

For the first couple of weeks, it was like this.

You’d try to explain things — statistics, formulas, essay outlines — and he’d just throw out comments like, “Your handwriting’s cute. Bet you worked on that just to impress me.” Or, “This study session would go way smoother if you let me take you out afterward.”

You learned to roll your eyes, redirect, and keep your cool.

Because honestly, you weren’t interested. Not in his charm, not in his easy flirting, not in the way his buddies nudged him when you walked into the room. You definitely didn’t want to be just another story he shared in the locker room.

But then… things started to change.

⸻

One night, you were still in the library late. He was surprisingly quiet, actually focusing on the problem set in front of him. You watched him chew on his pen cap, brows knitted, lips moving as he worked through the numbers.

When he finally got the right answer, his eyes lit up. He looked up at you, grinning like a kid. “Yo, I actually did it.”

You found yourself smiling. “Yeah. You did.”

He puffed up a bit, clearly proud. “Bet you didn’t think I was paying attention, huh?”

“Not gonna lie,” you teased, “I wasn’t sure.”

Instead of firing back with a flirty comment, he just laughed — soft and genuine, not for show. It made something flutter in your chest, something you quickly pushed aside.

⸻

Weeks turned into months.

You started picking up on things. How he never skipped a session, no matter how beat he was from practice. How he started bringing snacks for you, mumbling, “Thought you might be hungry.” How he actually listened, his grades slowly going up, his confidence rising.

And sometimes, when he thought no one was watching, his gaze lingered — not cocky, not smug, but soft, like he was trying to memorize you.

One afternoon, as you were packing up, he finally said it.

“You know I’m not just messing with you, right?”

You looked up, surprised. “What do you mean?”

“The flirting. The jokes. Yeah, I’m a bit of a pain, I know. But with you…” He trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck — nervous for once. “With you it’s different.”

Your heart raced. “Look—”

“I like you,” he stated simply, eyes locked on yours. “Not just as my tutor. Not just ‘cause you’re smart or pretty or whatever. I like that you make me want to try. You don’t let me skate through stuff. You make me better.”

The silence stretched out. For once, he didn’t fill it with a joke. He just sat there, waiting, being vulnerable in a way you hadn’t seen before.

And something cracked in you.

Because somewhere along the way, between the banter and late-night study sessions and those soft smiles you didn’t mean to give, he’d burrowed under your skin.

You let out a breath, shaking your head with a slight smile. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Unbelievably in love with you,” he said quickly, that grin creeping back, though his eyes still showed that sincerity.

You rolled your eyes, but this time, when he leaned across the table, you didn’t pull back.

The kiss lingered — soft, cautious, almost like he didn’t want to scare you off. When he pulled back, his grin tried to reappear, but it faltered under the weight of your silence.

“So,” he said finally, voice a little hoarse. “That… wasn’t terrible, right?”

You raised a brow, still catching your breath. “That depends. Are you gonna treat this like one of your games, or…”

His grin vanished entirely. “Nah. Not a game. Not with you.”

Your heart squeezed, but you weren’t going to make it easy. “I need you to prove it.”

He blinked, then nodded, determination flickering in his eyes. “Bet.”

⸻

The next week, you waited for him at your usual spot in the library. For once, he was late. Just as you were about to roll your eyes, he showed up, arms loaded with stuff — notebooks, pencils, and a calculator he hardly ever used.

“What’s all this?” you asked.

He dropped it on the table and plopped down in front of you with a proud smirk. “Study tools. Figured if I’m gonna pass this class and keep you around, I better get ready.”

You stared at him. “So you actually… studied for this?”

“Kind of,” he admitted, scratching the back of his neck. “Don’t get too hyped, though. I’m still hopelessly in love with you, so the distraction’s real.”

A smile crept onto your face, and he noticed.

⸻

Proving himself didn’t stop there.

When you were sick, he showed up at your dorm with soup, tea, and that same cocky grin. “Nurse Lando on duty. Side effects may include my extreme attractiveness while you sneeze.”

When another guy tried to chat you up after class, Lando was right there, slipping an arm around your waist. “She’s taken.”

And when you snapped at him one night, tired and stressed, he didn’t crack a joke. He just listened and wrapped his arms around you. “You don’t have to be strong all the time. Let me help with some of that, okay?”

That’s when you started to believe him.

⸻

The real kicker came during finals week.

You were buried in notes, barely looking up, when he slid his phone over to you. On the screen was a picture of his exam score. An A-.

Your jaw dropped. “You—”

“Studied,” he finished, grinning broadly. “Like, actually. No copying, no winging it. Just me. And you. And all those times you made me rewrite my notes when I said I didn’t want to.”

You stared at him, your feelings all mixed up inside. “Lando…”

He leaned in closer, his grin softening. “Told you I’d prove it. I don’t just want you for the jokes or the chase. I want you for real.”

And when he kissed you this time, you didn’t question it.

Because he had proved it. Over and over again.

And you realized — maybe you’d loved him a little all along.

——

muah, there might b a smutty pt2 idk yet! 💋

[theegoldenchild]

You ugly lonely old virgin bitch don’t ever speak on Aaron you write stupid stories about a black man that wouldn’t spit on you if you where on fire

All of Michael’s fans are ugly black woken who can’t get dick that’s why you write about imaginary dick all day you ugly bitch

I can tell that your cornbread isn’t done in the middle. Imagine being this hateful and my YOUNG BEAUTIFUL ass is in my room sexy dancing like Brittney Spears.

P.S. every single black MBJ fan I’ve encountered is drop-dead GORGEOUS 💜💜💜💜💜

[bluejay2503]

My god what be wrong with mfs? I thought we were one big happy family lusting after the same two men

[inmyheadimobsessed]

the songs for this chapter are so all over the place (riri is unstable)

[inmyheadimobsessed]

anyway, i just updated the apple music playlist, everyone cheer!

[bluejay2503]

[bluejay2503]

The way I almost broke my neck sitting up when I saw this…

[quintessencewrites]

did somebody say yes daddy pt. 5👀?

[quintessencewrites]

did somebody say angsty yes daddy pt. 5???

[inmyheadimobsessed]

NOBODY SAID THAT?!?!?!

[bluejay2503]

I second this, cause FOR WHY

[quintessencewrites]

CUZ FOR WHY NOT FRIEND

[bluejay2503]

THEY JUST MADE UP LET THEM LIVEEE

[quintessencewrites]

did somebody say yes daddy pt. 5👀?

[quintessencewrites]

did somebody say angsty yes daddy pt. 5???

[inmyheadimobsessed]

NOBODY SAID THAT?!?!?!

[bluejay2503]

I second this, cause FOR WHY

[diouna]

i’m not falling for this riri x xavier propaganda

[et3rnalknowledge-deactivated202]

I miss all the Shuri and Riri fics, LIKE TAKE ME BACK TO 2022😫

[pommeauromarin]

Enemies to lovers, but only one of them thinks they're enemies. The other has been entirely obsessed since the beginning.

Only acceptable way for me to read this trope

[bluejay2503]

@inmyheadimobsessed mtis in a nutshell 😭😭

[inmyheadimobsessed]

More Than I Should {pt. 7}

pairing: riri ✘ black!fem!reader

summary: you spent years mastering the art of denial, molding yourself into the image you were told to uphold. only to have a beautiful girl with a silver tongue to undo it all.

word count: long!

contents: yearninggggg, drinking, smoking, some sexually explicit behaviors (18+), a twinge of angst, desperate!riri, jealous!riri

tags: @kisskobii @dejaonline @prettymrswright @vixentheplanet @sapphicvqmpires @astroeliza @uhwhatsay @blackgcomica @6-noir @quintessencewrites @pvnks0ul @fentibeauty @ririshotgf @idkijjustlovethisapp @naijagrl @onyxstones-world @ihearttish @sweetalittleselfish-honey @lyfeofbilly @lvmxih @watchyourmouthorgetslapped @nickirunsrap @animalisticjazz

divider by: @firefly-graphics

note: the time has finally come frens, and it's only up from here. this chapter is longgg, so grab a snack! permission to yell at me after y'all finish reading lol. also shout out to me for posting in a semi normal timeframe. #growth. but anywho, hope youse enjoy! let the cheating begin! mwah, mwah!

↬ series masterlist

The weekend had come and gone in the wake of Riri’s earth-shattering confession. You’d come home to an empty apartment, and you audibly thanked the universe as you made a beeline for your bed.

You needed to lie down.

Remaining upright had become a chore, following the weakening blows your body absorbed from the evil little scientist hellbent on destroying your world. It was a miracle you even made it through the front door without collapsing.

You spent all of Sunday in bed too, buried beneath your covers, lights off, pretending the world didn't exist beyond the four walls of your dark room.

If you hadn’t been woken up so abruptly by Talia’s obnoxious blender, you wouldn’t have left the house. You wouldn’t have answered the phone when your mother called. You wouldn’t have let that conversation worm its way under your skin, pushing you toward Riri like a lamb to slaughter. She wouldn't have bared her soul to you, cut her heart out and slam it on the table for you to examine.

You wouldn't have known how she felt.

But hadn't you always known? Deep down, in the places you didn’t dare inspect too closely, hadn’t you felt it? Tucked away behind all your denial, buried under every excuse you made just to protect your peace of mind—hadn’t it always been obvious?

And hadn't those feelings always been reciprocated?

You pondered these questions now, sipping your too-sweet, too-strong brown sugar espresso, the extra shot doing little to fight the exhaustion attacking your bones. Because despite spending the whole weekend in bed, you hadn’t rested. Not really.

It was Monday now, and you peeled yourself out of bed this morning to find that the world indeed continued to turn. Classes required attendance, and your project with Riri demanded completion.

You hadn't seen her since you left her room—obviously—but she was still your partner, and you still n eeded a grade. But how exactly were you supposed to get in contact with her without seeing her was the next question. Not like you could just text her, you didn't even have her number. You chuckled to yourself at the realization. All this drama, all this heartache, and you two didn't even have each other's phone numbers.

Go fucking figure.

Showing up at her dorm again was completely out of the question. God, you had to stop doing that, accosting Riri unannounced. One would think you'd learned your lesson after the first, second, and third time the action utterly failed you. Maybe now it would stick, you thought.

You could ask Hakeem for her number maybe, but there was already too much suspicion swirling around you, and you'd learned your boyfriend could be smart enough when he wanted to be. Asking would bring along questions, questions that would make you freeze up if you tried to answer them, and you couldn't risk that.

So you took a shot in the dark instead, remembering the last time you literally ran into Riri outside of class. The library. Not a guarantee, but it was something, and it was all you had.

You took one last sip of your coffee before tossing it, and then you began the trek across campus. The sky was darkening, clouds heavy, like fragile barrels of water getting ready to burst, and the sun was nowhere to be seen. By the time you made it to the library, the skyline was cracking, the sound quaking the steps beneath your feet as you ran for cover.

You managed to make it inside, clothes barely touched by rain, and you sighed, breathing in the thick smell of dusty books and lemon cleaner. The floor squeaked softly underneath your wet sneakers as you weaved through the main floor, past half-dozing students hunched over textbooks. You didn't know what you were hoping for really, but when you turned the corner near the private study rooms, your heart lurched.

There she was.

Through the glass window of one of the study rooms, you spotted her, eyes traveling back and forth from her laptop screen to her notebook. She had her headphones on, and her braids were a little fuzzy, like she had forgotten to tie them down the night before, and couldn't be bothered to refresh them this morning.

She looked exhausted. Beautiful. Alive.

And something inside you—something deep and stupid and desperate—rejoiced. It felt like all of your bruised cells and nerve endings healed themselves, and came back to life. Because despite everything, you had found her. You always found her, even when you weren't trying.

You didn't think, you just moved, heading right over to where she was, and you opened the door without knocking. You barged right in, heartbeat clawing its way up your throat, and dropped into the seat before her.

Slowy, Riri lifted her gaze from her laptop to meet yours. She blinked, a hint of surprise filling her pupils as she stared at you wordlessly, removing her headphones. Riri eyed you like she was trying to figure out what you were doing here, if you were real. You could see her mouth twitch at the corners, a tell you easily recognized as a smirk suppressed. She was amused, maybe, or just a little pleased despite herself.

Your chest tightened at that tiny, barely-there pull of her lips, because you realized that simply seeing you—even now, after everything—softened her. It was so slight, so minuscule, and it shouldn't have affected your breathing. But she held that same power to make you melt without trying.

You sat in front of her, all wide-eyed and breathless, like a puppy. Riri tilted her head at you, brow lifted, waiting. You were waiting too, thumb fiddling with your bracelet, waiting for her to say something first, or maybe daring yourself to be the one to break the silence. It wasn't awkward, just noticeable, and it sat atop your skin like a layer of sweat.

Seconds dragged on—minutes—and neither of you spoke. And you knew Riri well enough to conclude this was all being done on purpose, a tactic to make you crack.

Would you? You did come all this way…

You cleared your throat, “So… the project.”

“Mhmm.” The first sound she made since you sat down in front of her. Riri’s glare dragged along your skin, heating your body all over as she took her time ingesting your image, savoring the look of you, before reluctantly pulling her eyes away, and returning to her work.

“It's due soon.” You were trying, and struggling to find words that would bring her attention back to you.

Riri scribbled something in her notebook, “Yeah,I know. I got the same rubric and deadline as you.”

You shifted in your seat, deciding to ignore the unnecessary bite in her tone, “We need to work on it. Uh, I know you probably don't want–”

“What do you think I’m doing?” Her voice was flat, lacking any discernible emotion.

“This is the project?” You asked, your own voice faltering a little bit.

“Yup. My half.”

You deadpanned, “Your half? We didn't even decide on a topic yet.”

Riri chuckled dryly under her breath, sounding almost, unimpressed? “Yeah we did. Environmental Modeling, remember?”

Of course you remembered. You remembered because you were the one who thought of it. That night, in your apartment when Riri showed up empty handed. No textbook, no laptop, not even so much as a pen. In hindsight, it should’ve been obvious what her intentions were just off how she arrived at your door. You hadn't thought she was listening when you were explaining the topic, but apparently you were wrong about that.

“Sure but–”

“I started my half Saturday night,” She cut in. “I already developed the differential equation we need.” She turned her laptop around so you could see it.

You allowed your eyes to leave her face, your stare riddled with shock and disbelief, and you leaned in, studying the equation. It looked like the basic population growth model you were familiar with, but she’d added a term at the end, something to account for human impact, like poaching or habitat loss. Simple, but smart. It made the model feel more real. She’d even plugged in starting values.

You shook your head. While you were in bed crying, paralyzed by everything she said, Riri was hard at work on the assignment you two were supposed to be doing together. She had moved on to the next thing, like it was nothing, and you were stuck struggling to catch up.

“This is um, all great Riri. Yeah.” You said, voice flat and defeated, tinged with something akin to hurt. “I have my laptop in my bag, I can just get started on the conservation efforts, I guess.”

“Cool.” And then she went back to her own work, welcoming that sticky silence once more as her fingertips glided against her keyboard, like she'd already zoned out and forgotten you were there.

You sat back, staring at her with perplexity, stunned by how effortless this was for her. How was this the same girl who looked ready and willing to fall apart in front of, and for you just two days ago? Riri was treating you like a lab partner she barely tolerated and was forced to work with. You’d expected awkwardness—sure, perhaps a bit of tension, maybe even avoidance. But not this. Not this faux professionalism, this detachment. Like she'd decided she was over everything, ridded her system of the entire interaction.

How could she behave like none of it mattered? She'd called you beautiful. Whispered the word like it came to her as easily as drawing breath. How could she allow herself to be distracted by meaningless school work after that? How could she expect you to?

You busied yourself by pulling out your computer, needing to do something with your idle hands, mind still reeling with questions. Ones that would likely remain unanswered, giving Riri’s chosen defense. Because that's what this was, right? A defense mechanism, another one of her impenetrable walls, built specifically to keep you out.

And it hurt like hell.

You opened your laptop, and kept your eyes on the screen, adopting the same disposition she had. Pretending your stomach didn't drop at her indifference. Pretending it didn’t feel like the two of you were strangers now, despite knowing far too much about one another to ever be that again.

The pair of you worked in silence for a beat, with you stealing glances that were not reciprocated. Riri was locked in on her designated half of your shared assignment, with her headphones back on, and the world turned off. She was doing that thing she was ever so skilled at—disregarding you—treating you as less than a person, and it was starting to piss you off. You dropped your pen, narrowing your eyes at her before huffing.

“Am I supposed to forget Saturday happened?” You questioned, irritation evident in your tone of voice.

Riri didn't look up from her screen, “If that's what you wanna do, sure.”

She scrolled down a bit, then clicked something, “When you’re doing the conservation effort breakdown, make sure you factor in the reintroduction variables. They’ll affect the slope.”

Your mouth parted slightly. You were baffled, like she’d just offered the weather report after setting your house on fire. The audacity.

“I don't think I do,” You replied softly, “But I don't really know what I’m supposed to say back. Or do.”

Riri finally glanced up at you, “Sure you do. But you won't. That's what you really mean.”

And then, without pause, she gestured to her notes. “I got a 3x growth rate on the second run. Factored in human interference. Seemed more accurate.”

You stared at her. Dumbfounded. Because how can she go from exposing her innards to talking to you about… math? It made you want to scream, to reach across the table and shake her until she popped, until she dropped the act and actually spoke to you.

You hated her so much in this moment, hated her stupid little nonchalant demeanor. You wanted to rattle her, shake her foundation like she shook yours. But how…

And then it hit you.

“Zariyah saw me you know,” You started, sounding slightly more confident than before, “When I was leaving. She saw me.”

“So?”

You scoffed, “She saw me crying as I was leaving your room. I’m sure that's gonna raise some questions. Like ‘why was your best friend's girlfriend crying after leaving your room, Riri? What happened? Why was she even there to begin with?’”

“Is this you trying to intimidate me? Cause it ain't working.”

She was lying, and you knew it. The slight flare of her nostrils, the way her fingers paused over the keyboard—all telltale signs. You were under her skin, and she was scrambling to maintain control. Like this new found information had the power to destroy the lie she’d already told.

You quirked a single brow, but said nothing. Checkmate, bitch.

And then Riri sighed, her facade cracking for the first time since you sat down. “Fine. You wanna do this here? Let's do it.”

“I told you how I felt and you rejected me,”

“I didn't–”

“Yes. You did. You rejected me because you're too scared to admit what we both know is true, and you're using Hakeem as an excuse for you being a coward. So maybe it is best we just forget it.” She exhaled, “Is that what you wanted to hear? Hmm?”

But before you could answer her, both of your phones began to ping simultaneously. You reached for yours just as Riri grabbed hers, only to find that your boyfriend had added you into a group chat with his best friend—the same best friend who was currently sitting across from you, reading the exact same message.

Keem: Hey my two favorite party planners. Sorry Riri, baby girl spilled the beans, but don't worry Ima still act all surprised and shit when I show up, like I didn’t know a thing. While I have you, I did wanna go over a list of demands that MUST happen. Sike nah I’m playing, BUT I do got some requests.

Keem: First off I want a house party. Niggas don't do house parties no more, and I wanna be THEE nigga to bring em back!

Keem: For the guest list, invite EVERYBODY! This gotta be the most talked about party in MIT history! Maybe y’all can make some flyers and like hand em out around campus

Keem: For the food, I ain't too picky. But I need me some Hawaiian pizza. Riri you can handle that cause baby girl is allergic

Keem: OOH! but my cake HAS to be chocolate with vanilla ice cream in the middle, it's my fav. I know a great bakery that makes it just how I like it if you need the deets

Keem: LIKKA (the kind that gets you fucked up!🤣)

Keem: OOH CAN IT BE SPACE THEMED?!?!

Keem: That's really it though, I trust y’all. My favorite girls working together! A state of bonding, love, trust, real friendship!🥹

“Just fucking great.” Riri muttered, the words barely audible beneath a breathy, humorless laugh.

You scoffed, blinking at your screen like it might change, “Is he for real? Where does he think the money is coming from for all this stuff?”

Riri shook her head across from you, not even trying to hide her irritation. “This is your fault, you know.”

“I’m aware of that, Riri.” You snapped, biting the inside of your cheek as your eyes rolled without your permission.

“Then why the hell are you complaining?” She shot back, eyebrows lifting like you were the irrational one for even reacting.

She wasn't wrong, you shouldn't be complaining. You were the one to get the two of you into this mess. But this was after Riri left you to clean up her mess. The mess that she created in your heart and mind. You didn't have an answer for Hakeem's questions, so you panicked, like anybody else would in your position. High off the adrenaline of an almost kiss, and the slow-approaching guilt of nearly being caught.

Riri had some nerve calling you a coward. She didn't even stick around, she panicked too. So much so that she froze up in front of her best friend. She could barely say five words to him, and then she bolted, leaving you to deal with the fallout all on your own.

How's that for a coward?

You contemplated throwing this back in her face, calling her the hypocrite she deemed you, but what was the point? That would only incite more drama, more arguing that you lacked the capacity to handle right now.

You sighed, rubbing your forehead, “I didn't think he would make it this big of a deal.”

“Clearly, you don't know your boyfriend.” Riri let the word drip like venom, laced with an icy bitterness she didn't bother to hide. It hit you hard in your chest, but you decided to ignore that too.

“I can cover all of the food, drinks, decorations,” You offered, already beginning to calculate the cost in your head. “But, where would we have it? Maybe we can talk to his roommate and find a way to throw the party at their place?”

And Riri laughed. Not in that mocking way you were used to, but like a genuine hearty laugh. The kind that indicated that she was laughing with you, not at you. Which left you more confused than before.

“I might got an idea,” She stated, grinning, “But Keem probably won't like it.”

“What's the idea?” You questioned, tilting your head, skeptical about her new found enthusiasm.

Her grin grew, turning into something motivated by mischief. She didn't speak as she pulled her chair around to your side of the table, jarring you entirely, and she sat down, scooting in closer than necessary. You found yourself holding your breath when she reached over your arm to pull her laptop closer, and evidently, so did she.

She turned to you then, eyes dancing, “How do you feel about taking advantage of a rich, middle aged, white lady?”

•••

“His stepmom? You wanna get the money from his stepmom?” Riri sounded insane. Her idea to make Hakeem's rich, white, stepmother—whom you had no clue about—pay for the party seemed a little… unethical in your opinion. You didn't even know the woman, how were you supposed to ask her for money?

“Well yes.”

She was already typing on her computer, eyes scanning through luxurious Airbnb listings with a little too much excitement. You could see the dollar signs in her eyes, the way she seemed too ready to milk this woman for her cash. You wanted to stop her, slap the computer screen down on her swift little fingers but you couldn't. Your mind had been too busy trying to conceptualize Hakeem having a white mother, well stepmother, but still. Why was this news you were learning through Riri?

Your eyes surveyed the screen, locking in on the prices of the places Riri was considering, and they widened. “Uh, how rich is this white lady again?”

“Rich Rich.” Riri clicked on a villa listed for over eight hundred dollars. “She’s like the chief of surgery at some bougie hospital downtown.”

“That's crazy. I didn't even know he had a stepmom.” You half-whispered, still eyeing Riri’s laptop as she scrolled. “What about that one?”

She acknowledged the image you pointed at, then tossed an amused glance your way. “Ain't surprised he never mentioned her. They don't really got the best relationship. Hence why I said he probably won't like that we doing this.”

“Wait what? What do you mean they don't have a good relationship?”

“Ion really know all the details, but apparently his actual mom, Monique, was real sick when Hakeem was younger, and his stepmom, Sherry, was her doctor. Then his dad decided to leave his mom after she got better, to be with… you guessed it!”

You let out a low breath of air, whispering, “Sherry…”

“Yup.” Riri still had her nose nuzzled in her computer, scrolling and clicking, all while delivering information that you felt extremely weird about receiving.

Maybe there was a reason Hakeem kept this from you. Maybe, he didn't want you to know. But why? Did he not trust you? Maybe you weren't in the type of relationship you believed yourself to be in, the type where you guys shared stuff like this with each other. You wanted to be hurt, but how could you be? Not like you told him about your mother.

The only person outside of your sister who knew about her in any capacity was… Riri.

The beautiful girl with endless eyes and a slick mouth.

You felt sick, the sensation settling in your stomach like rot. A sour, festering weight that twisted deeper the longer you sat beside her. Because here you were, listening to a story about your boyfriend’s broken family—his mother’s heartbreak, the betrayal that likely gutted her, and traumatized her son—yet all you could think about was Riri’s lips.

The way they curled around her words. The sharp line of her jaw as she focused on the screen, her fingers dancing over the keyboard like it was second nature. And that made you feel disgusting. Shame surged up your throat, almost choking you. You should’ve been focused on Hakeem, on what this meant for him, for your relationship, but your mind kept slipping and sliding helplessly back to the girl beside you—to his best friend. You wanted to shake it off, to bury it beneath guilt, and logic, and everything you’d been taught about right and wrong. But Riri made that impossible.

He was right to not trust you.

“I don't think we should be doing this,” You finally spoke again. “Seems like a boundary we shouldn't be crossing.”

Riri’s eyes darted over to you, and they lingered, as though she was searching for an unspoken meaning stashed inside your concerns. Her gaze told a story of uncertainty as she inspected you for the implication you did not voice, an implication you didn't know you were omitting until she looked at you. That you and her shouldn't be doing this together.

But that flicker of doubt dissipated as quickly as it emerged, and the shorter girl narrowed her eyes at you, trying to assert a form of dominance you deemed unnecessary, before she responded.

“If you're too scared to do it that's fine.” She reached for her phone. “I don't got no problem calling. Sherry knows me. I can do all of the work, and you can just sit here and look pretty, like you always do.”

She punctuated her remark with a smirk, biting her lip as she typed on her phone.

You gulped. Riri just called you pretty. It was so casual, and so unbelievably backhanded as hell. But it happened, and you knew she meant it, the entire act rendering you speechless. You just stared at her, all wide eyed and bushy tailed, like a pet awaiting validation.

Validation Riri did not withhold, “Good girl.”

She knew you were annoyed as she watched your eyes turn to slits, an outcome she seemed to vie for. She looked so fucking smug and satisfied with herself, raising the phone to her ear after dialing the phone number to Sherry's office.

You only grew more irritated as you watched her. You hated how easy it was for her to make your stomach flutter, just by calling you pretty. How your pulse jumped at the sound of her voicing words like good girl, how her teasing glances made heat crawl up your neck, no matter how hard you tried to keep your cool. It was unbearable, being this affected by someone who knew exactly what she was doing.

She fed off your reaction, like each stolen breath and every flushed expression was a prize. And the worst part? You gave it all to her for free.

You rolled your eyes, opting to stay silent as she prepared to conduct her conversation with Hakeem's stepmother, mostly because you had nothing to add, and Riri seemed to be doing just fine on her own.

Riri put the phone on speaker as it rang, and a heavy load of dread began to build in your stomach the longer Sherry took to pick up.

And then,

“Dr. Sherry Fynch’s office, this is Janice speaking. How can I help you?”

The moment Riri cleared her throat, you sensed a shift. Her voice, usually casual and tinged with sarcasm, transformed into a polished, professional tone. It was jarring, like watching someone slip into a character with practiced ease. You had to stifle a laugh at this unfamiliar version of her, biting your lip to keep from giggling. Riri’s ability to code-switch so seamlessly was both impressive and amusing.

“Hi. My name is Riri Williams, I’m a friend of Hakeem Fynch, Dr. Fynch’s stepson. I was hoping to speak with her briefly. It's not a medical matter, but a more personal one, about her son. Is she available?”

You watched her in admiration as she maintained her composure, marveling at how calm she seemed. Was there anything this magnificent girl couldn't do?

“One moment please,” Came Janice’s reply. “Let me see if she's available to take a personal call.”

As the hold music played softly, Riri glanced at you, a mischievous glint in her eye. You covered your mouth, trying to suppress another giggle. This was absurd, but in the best way.

“Dr. Fynch is currently between consults and has a few minutes. I’ll patch you through now. Please hold.”

“Thank you so much,” Riri replied, all smooth with gratitude. She then mouthed a quick “shh” at you, placing a finger to her lips. You nodded, grinning like an idiot.

There was a soft click, and then the line picked up again, “Hello, this is Sherry Fynch.”

“Hi, Dr. Fynch,” Riri said, her voice tinged with concern. “I hope I’m not catching you at a bad time. This is Riri Williams, Hakeem's best friend. Don't know if you remem–”

“Riri, hi!” Dr. Fynch’s tone lifted mid-sentence, brightening like someone smiling into the phone. “Of course I remember you. Hakeem talks about you constantly. Your name is one we know well at home. How can I help you? Is Hakeem okay? Do I need to contact his father?”

She sounded shrill at the end, panic creeping into her voice before Riri reassured her. “No! No, nothing like that. Keem’s fine. I’m calling because his friends and I are planning a surprise birthday party for him. I’m sure you know he's been really down about his grandmother’s health issues, and we thought this would cheer him up.”

A beat.

“Oh. Yes. Of course… his grandmother.” The pause was just long enough to suggest she had no clue what Riri was talking about, but she pushed on anyway. “That’s a wonderful idea. You kids are very sweet.”

“He tends to hold things in,” You watched as Riri’s eyes welled up slightly, her voice wavering just enough to sell the story. “Hasn't really been speaking to us about his feelings. But we know he's hurting.”

It was a performance worthy of an award. You had to turn away, pressing your fist to your mouth to keep from laughing out loud.

You could hear Sherry sigh into the mic, hear how much she seemed to be affected by this information. “Oh dear. Well, is there anything I can do to help?”

“That's actually why I'm reaching out,” Riri said, pausing just enough to make it feel difficult. “We’re a little short on funds, and I hate asking, I swear. I know you're a busy woman. But is there any way you can–”

Sherry was agreeing before Riri could get the rest of her request out, offering to write a check without hearing an exact amount. That alone almost took you out. Your eyes were full of tears, not from emotion, but from trying to keep it together. Riri gave you a look that said everything without a word:

Keep it the fuck together.

You sat up straighter, wiping your eyes quickly and nodding like you were back in control.

“Who should I make the check out to?” Dr. Fynch asked.

You were astonished how easily she jumped to offering up cash. Astonished that your boyfriend was secretly rich and you had no idea.

“Actually, Venmo would be easier. You know… college kids and all.” Riri laughed halfheartedly.

“Of course, of course.”

Riri rattled off her Venmo handle, and you listened to the soft taps of her phone as she confirmed the transfer. “Thank you so much, Dr. Fynch. This really means a lot. And would you mind not mentioning any of this to him? We wanna keep it a surprise.”

“Anything for Hakeem. And for the people who love him.”

As the call ended, Riri turned to you, her composed facade cracking into a triumphant grin. You both burst into laughter, the tension dissolving. “See how easy that was?”

And then, a notification pinged on Riri’s phone.

“She sent two grand,” Riri said, eyes wide.

You shook your head in disbelief, still laughing. “You’re unbelievable.”

In that moment, amidst the laughter and shared victory, you realized how natural this felt. Being with Riri, unfiltered and free, was something you could definitely get used to.

•••

The next two hours passed in a quiet kind of magic. Whatever tension that floated in the air when you first walked into the study room had long since dissolved, replaced with something softer—something warmer. Your project lay forgotten in the background, buried under the tabs and Pinterest boards you and Riri had opened in pursuit of the perfect party.

You were side by side now, your chairs pushed so close your knees bumped when one of you shifted. Riri didn’t seem to mind. Neither did you.

“The place is booked,” Riri said, closing her laptop after what seemed like an extensive search. “A five hundred dollar deposit, but you know…”

You giggled, “Thank you Dr. Fynch.”

“Mhmm.” Riri turned to you, her eyes fanning over your face, a shimmer of something present inside their depths. “Think we're actually gonna pull off this not so surprising surprise party you so stupidly roped us into.”

“You know,” You said, voice slicker, bolder now that the space between you had heated. “It’s actually your fault I had to come up with that lie in the first place.”

Riri looked at you, her head tilting ever so slightly, a smirk twitching at the corner of her mouth. “Yeah? How so?”

You met her eyes, heartbeat nudging at your throat. “You tried to kiss me. And that threw me off my game.”

She leaned in, just a little. Just enough to make your breath catch as she lazily slung her arm around the back of your chair. “Your game is nonexistent,” She said, voice steeped in velvet. “And besides…” Her eyes dropped to your mouth and stayed there. “You leaned in too. You’re leaning in now.”

Oh shit.

You froze, realizing that you were leaning in, unknowingly pushing yourself towards Riri’s awaiting lips. So close that if someone passed the glass window of the study room, they might think you were already kissing. So close that the scent of her—cedarwood and something distinctively hers—swaddled you like a blanket. So close that her breath fanned your skin, its warmth traveling down your neck.

And the worst part? You didn’t care.

You didn’t care about the study room, or the window, or the dozens of other students tucked into corners of the library. You didn’t care that your boyfriend’s birthday party was what kept you here with Riri, if anything you were grateful.

Grateful for the curve of Riri’s lips and how her eyes stayed locked on yours like she already knew what you were thinking.

If she kissed you now, you wouldn’t stop her.

You’d let her have you—let her taste you. You’d grab her jaw and pull her closer, and kiss her like you were starving. You’d forget yourself completely, right here, in front of the entire damn school.

But just when your breath hitched, just when the ache between you buzzed loudest—Riri pulled back.

On purpose.

You blinked, stunned, the spell broken.

Riri’s smirk relaxed into something more delicate—slow, sure, a promise curled at the edges. “See?” She dropped her voice to a whisper as she reached up, steady fingers brushing your cheek gently. Her touch lingered longer than it needed to. “You want this just as bad as I do.”

You opened your mouth to argue, to say anything, but nothing came out. Your breathing stuttered, hot air slipping out of you unforeseen. And she knew she had you, right where she wanted.

“My reserved time’s up in here,” She said, already packing her bag and standing like none of that had just happened. “I gotta get to my last class. I wrote down your email, so I’ll send my half of the project to you when I finish it.”

You were still sitting there stunned, heart racing, and she was already slinging her bag over her shoulder.

“We’ll touch base on the party later this week.”

And just like that, she was gone. Leaving you in the charged silence, lips parted, skin flushed, wondering what the hell just happened—and how soon it could happen again.

•••

“Are you gonna open them, or are you hoping they’ll unwrap themselves?” You asked, grinning nervously as you nudged Hakeem's shoulder with your own.

The two of you were in his apartment, as you sat anxiously beside him waiting for his reaction to his birthday presents. His elbows were propped up on his knees, chin in hand, eyes fixed on the two matte black boxes resting in front of you. Each was tied with a silver ribbon that you’d re-done three times to get just right.

“Shhh,” He muttered, holding up a hand like you were interrupting a sacred ritual. He looked like he was trying to mentally x-ray them. “You messing up my process. I’m tryna guess what's inside.”

You laughed. “Boy, if you don’t open these damn presents. I spent too much money just for you to be–”

“Aight, aight,” He relented, smirking as he reached for the first box. He was untying the ribbon slowly on purpose, knowing it would get on your nerves, and you huffed in frustration.

When he finally peeled back the paper, his eyes widened. Inside was a black case, about the size of a lunchbox, lined with thick gray foam. Nestled in it was an array of telescope parts—extra lenses, filters, and little tools he’d mentioned once during a late-night YouTube rabbit hole on stargazing. “Baby… is this that kit I was talking about?” He asked, already pulling it closer, his deep browns filled with unbridled appreciation.

You nodded, grinning like an overly proud girlfriend who had outdone herself. “Mhmm, the one you said was too expensive for something ‘non-essential’, whatever that means.”

“I was tryna be responsible! Money doesn't grow on trees you know.” He protested, eyes still scanning the contents like he’d found treasure.

You stifled a giggle, still wrapping your head around what you'd recently learned about Hakeem and his undisclosed affluent upbringing. It was wild to think that your boyfriend could be sitting on a secret trust fund and never breathed a word about it. You supposed there were signs, like all the expensive equipment he had casually lying around. That telescope in his room had to be at least a grand. But then there was his car, that ancient, beat-up thing that rattled like a death trap on wheels. It was so rundown, you would’ve thought his parents were punishing him by making him drive it. Nothing about that car screamed money, which is probably why you never thought to look for it.

You sat back as he lifted the top layer of tissue paper in the other box and found a Kuromi plushie, her tiny skull bow and smug little smile staring up at him. He cracked up. “Baby?!?! You didn't!”

“But I did!” You giggled, delight evident in your tone. “The second I came across it I knew I had to get it. It’s got yo name written all over it.”

“You know me so well.” He was laughing, digging deeper to find a colorful bundle of socks with tiny planets on them, new neon laces for his beat-up running shoes, and a sleek silver lighter with an image of your face with you sticking your tongue out. At the very bottom was a stack of Polaroids the two of you took together, each with a scribbled note on the back. Inside jokes, song lyrics, one-liners that would only make sense to him.

Hakeem just sat there for a second, taking it all in, sporting the stupidest grin you'd ever seen.

“I remembered you saying something about the telescope stuff and figured it’d be cool to actually get it for you. And Kuromi was a no-brainer. The socks and laces are, like, stocking stuffers. And, I figured you'd stop losing your lighter if it had my face on it. And the Polaroids… I just wanted you to have something that felt like us.” Your lips twitched as you fiddled with your fingers.

He turned to you then, eyes soft. “Baby… I love it. I really, really love it.”

Watching him sort through everything like a kid on Christmas made your heart flutter in a way you didn’t expect. For a moment, your thoughts drifted to Riri, and what it would feel like to give her something this thoughtful. To see her face light up like Hakeem’s just did.

Or to just see her period.

She’d been MIA since you two presented your project together a couple weeks ago. Skipping class, despite planning the party together. Riri had made sure to keep her distance, splitting the responsibilities so cleanly it was almost surgical. You didn’t understand it. Not fully. All you knew was that ever since you’d let yourself accept the truth about your feelings, you’d been drowning in them. And Riri, the one person you needed most, had made herself entirely inaccessible.

You smiled without meaning to, the ache sitting just beneath it, then blinked and shook it off, grounding yourself in Hakeem’s excitement as he tackled you, knocking the breath from your lungs as he pressed wet, sloppy kisses to your face and neck.

You squealed, giggling as you tried to dodge him, but he held you tight, grinning like a man unwrapping joy. He kissed you once, then again, this time on the lips, and you didn’t pull back. You instead leaned into it, needing something to pour your ache into. Something to steady you, even if it wasn’t the person you were truly fiending for. The kiss deepened, your fingers curling into his shirt as your body moved on instinct—on memory. On hunger.

You felt him pause, just for a second, uncertain about moving forward. Hakeem pulled back slightly to look into your eyes like he’d become aware of something spilling out of you, something he'd been searching for for months but couldn't find, until now. You met his stare head-on, eyes steady, silent. Reassuring. Permitting.

And it must’ve worked, because the next thing you knew, he was pressing you into the couch, his lips hot and urgent against yours as the kiss spiraled into something greedier. You didn’t stop him. Your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, tugging him closer as his hands found your waist, gripping it like he was afraid you might disappear.

His mouth broke from yours, dragging down the column of your neck, hot and heavy. Each breath he exhaled against your skin made your pulse skip, and you hated how badly you wanted the distraction. How badly you wanted him to erase your thoughts, to replace them with something tangible. Something simple.

His kisses trailed lower, warm lips grazing the top of your chest, and then he paused, breath fanning across your sternum as he looked up at you.

“Can I…?” He asked, voice hoarse with restraint, fingers slipping beneath the hem of your tank top.

You nodded, not trusting your voice in this moment, and lifted your arms so he could pull it over your head.

His gaze dropped instantly, widening as he took you in, bare and breathless beneath him. You weren’t wearing a bra. That realization hit you both at once as you felt your nipples tighten from the exposure to air. He swallowed, clearly stunned, clearly moved, fingers trembling as he reached to touch–

Knock. Knock. Knock.

You both stilled.

And the sound came again.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

It echoed, more insistent now, and Hakeem looked toward the door, brows furrowing.

“Fuck,” Hakeem mumbled, climbing off you lazily. “I think that’s Ri.”

You didn’t move at first. Your brain felt like static, white noise surging behind your eyes. The reality of what was about to happen rooted you in place, until he passed you your shirt. That jolted you.

He stood, already headed for the door, irritation stamped into each of his heavy strides. You could still feel his weight on your hips, still feel the heat of his mouth on your skin. Fuck. Were you really about to let that happen?

Your hands fumbled with the fabric in your hands, heart pounding so loud it made your fingers clumsy. You pulled the top over your freshly washed curls just as the knock came again, sounding like a gavel, sentencing you for a crime you weren’t sure you had the courage to name.

By the time Hakeem pulled the door open, your shirt was halfway on, your chest still rising and falling like you’d just ran a relay race and lost, the shame settling in. You moved quickly—too quickly—grabbing wrapping paper scraps from the floor, scooping up the ribbon you’d pulled off the cupcake box, tossing napkins into the trash as if cleaning up could somehow make you feel less bare.

“Happy birthday, old ass nigga.”

It was Riri’s voice indeed. You froze, back half-turned toward the front door. Her tone was light, playful. You turned slowly, afraid of what you’d find, and still, the sight knocked the air from your lungs.

She looked… stunning. Her hair was parted clean down the middle and slicked into two low puffs, small gold hoops glinting beneath the warm lights of Hakeem’s apartment. A baggy black and white knit sweater hung onto her frame, paired with matching shorts that stopped mid-thigh. Her toned legs were exposed, on display for you to gawk at, and boy, did you gawk at their definition.

But then, something caught your attention as your gaze climbed. A thin, mostly healed gash just above her left eyebrow. It was faint, but jarring in its presence. The first imperfection you’d ever seen on her face. And it wrecked you. Something about it made her real. Touchable. Mortal.

Solidifying a fact you’d never fathomed—Riri Williams could be harmed. And you detested knowing this, because this fact made you hurt, nurturing that long-lasting ache you’d come to know.

You didn’t realize how long you were staring until she looked right past you.

“You’re early,” Hakeem grumbled, stepping aside.

She stepped fully inside now, fully into your presence and you wanted to cower away, “Yeah, so?”

“I was busy.” His voice dropped slightly, gesturing toward you without actually turning to look.

And just like that, the weight of your guilt returned, landing square in your chest.

She gave you a once-over, her gaze dragging over your frame like she was cataloging everything, your flushed face, your hastily adjusted shirt, messy hair, and the cupcake box now trembling in your hands.

“Oh.” Her voice thinned. “I bet.”

Her lips twitched. Not quite a smile. Not quite a scowl.

And then, like always, she dismissed you completely. Her eyes flicked away like you weren't something worth acknowledging as she focused her attention back on her best friend. You were so fucking sick of her doing that—it made your blood simmer in your veins.

The air in the apartment had shifted, though your boyfriend hadn't noticed, too busy stretching and pouting and pretending he hadn’t just been halfway to fucking you on his couch.

“She staying?” Riri asked, tone casual, but something darker lurked inside it. “Cause I thought it was just gon be–”

“No,” You blurted, louder than you meant to. You swallowed and tried again, more composed this time. “No. I was actually just leaving. Just tidying up a bit before I go.”

Riri raised her brows in amusement, like she hadn’t expected you to respond at all.

You busied yourself with placing the cupcakes in the fridge, the ones you’d brought specially for Hakeem, the ones you’d decorated by hand. But now, under Riri’s eyes, they looked like evidence. As if she could see right through your “good girlfriend” act and into the mess of feelings underneath.

She was watching you.

And so was he.

Their eyes trailed your every move, and you felt them—hot, unblinking, and impossible to ignore. It was like standing in the center of a flame, burning from two sides.

You kept your head down, focused on the motions of your hands as if cleaning up was the most important task in the world. You crumpled the used napkins with too much force, shoved them into the trash. You grabbed the half-eaten pizza and slid it back into the box, fingers fumbling with the greasy lid. You opened the fridge, tucked the box away. Reached for the cupcakes again, and adjusted them three times before finally leaving them on the second shelf.

It was all busy work, none of it necessary. But you needed something to do, something that didn’t involve looking at either of them.

Still, you caught glimpses as you moved about the small kitchen. Hakeem’s expression was tight, jaw clenched, frustration still painted across his face. His energy radiated toward you like heat off pavement, still simmering from what the two of you had almost done. You’d come the closest you ever had to letting him touch you, just for the opportunity to fall through the cracks.

And Riri… Riri stood beside him, her posture deceptively casual, but her eyes were something else entirely. You could feel them roving over your body, calculated and searing. There was no amusement in her gaze, no mockery. Just… restraint. Dangerous restraint. Like she was holding herself together for the sake of the room.

For the sake of him.

But you were aware of her true feelings for you now, and the behaviors that came with them. You saw the glint of jealousy in her pupils, sharp as a blade. The way her fists flexed at her sides. She didn’t need to speak for you to know she was furious. Not just at the thought of you with him, but at the way your body still responded to her presence, especially now.

They both wanted you, sought to devour you. You could feel it pulsing in the sticky silence between the three of you. And fuck, you didn’t know what to do with that. You didn't even want to address the sick part of you that liked it—that wanted it.

Your hands paused over the counter, fingers curling around the edge for a moment, grounding yourself, mouth dry. Your pulse was sprinting, every cell in your body screaming for escape, but you still lingered there, as if waiting for someone to say something. Do something.

They didn’t.

So you swallowed your nerves, “Okay,” You said, breathless, shaky. You turned toward them, your smile strained and uneven, as you grabbed your phone, bag, and pulled on one of Hakeem's hoodies. “Ima get going so y’all can enjoy your bestie sleepover.”

You moved between them like smoke, inching towards Hakeem to give him a kiss goodbye, and whispered one last, “Happy birthday, baby.”

You were almost to the door when you risked a glance at Riri, your voice catching in your throat, sounding dry, and desperate. “See you in class tomorrow?”

Riri’s mouth lifted just slightly, conniving as ever. That signature smirk that never failed to knock the air from your lungs. “Maybe,” She said, like a threat.

You nodded, embarrassed at how much you were clinging to hope, that she might actually show up tomorrow just to see you, and then you were out the door.

Your feet didn’t stop moving until you were nearing the lobby door, the night air seconds away from kissing your skin. You heard the elevator ding behind you, but thought nothing of it until the sounds of fast footfalls began approaching you, and you turned.

There stood Riri. She looked a little flushed as she stepped off the elevator, lips parting like she'd been running. Her curls were a little less perfect than they’d been when she’d first arrived, and then there were her eyes: sharp, locked on you with singular focus. She approached you, with sure steps until she was standing directly in front of you.

You didn't speak, deciding it was her turn to break first, and mostly because you didn't know what to say. That was your constant when it came to her now, a thing you’ve grown to accept.

Riri cleared her throat softly, eyes darting from your face, to a spot just over your shoulder, before settling on your lips, then quickly back to your eyes. “We, uh… we gotta head over to the spot early on Saturday to set up. Put up decorations and shit.”

Her voice was casual, but there was something brittle underneath it. Something that sounded suspiciously like nerves.

You blinked. Right. Now she wanted to share space. Now she wanted to play co-host. Sure…

“Yeah, what time?” You questioned, keeping your tone flat, even though your heartbeat’s uncomfortable thumping hadn’t quite caught up.

Riri scratched the side of her neck, her stare bouncing to the floor, then to the edge of your shoe like it held the answer. “Uh… around five, five thirty-ish?”

You nodded slowly, arms folding across your chest. “Okay. That works.” A pause. “You find someone to pick up the cake?”

God, this whole exchange felt so formal, like you were two coworkers awkwardly bumping into each other at the copier.

She shifted her weight, exhaling her words like the thought exhausted her, “Yeah. Uh, Riy said she’d grab it. Bakery’s close to her job so...”

Zariyah.

Of course.

You nodded once, too fast. “Cool.”

Riri’s mouth twitched, a half-smile forming, almost reluctant. “Cool.”

The word sat between you like a missed step, and for a moment neither of you moved. Her fingers fidgeted with the hem of her sweater, and you realized her leg was bouncing slightly, a nervous tell you’d never picked up on before.

You’d gone two weeks without her. Now she was here, stammering, shifting, not quite meeting your eye line, and all you could think was how wrong it felt to talk to her like this. Like strangers. Like whatever had passed between you was a glitch and not something that had rerouted your entire internal wiring.

So you stood there, wrapped in the quiet, pretending your skin wasn’t burning from the proximity, pretending her voice didn’t feel like a balm and a blade all at once.

Your gaze flicked up, tracing the shape of her features, hunting for something familiar, something that reminded you this was still the same girl who nearly kissed you, and tearfully confessed her feelings for you three weeks ago.

For the second time tonight, you found your eyes glued to her forehead, and without thinking, your hand lifted, fingers ghosting the gash above her brow with tender and care. Seeing it this close twisted something in your gut.

“What happened?” You asked, voice barely more than a whisper, like too much sound would cause her more hurt.

Riri winced as she gently caught your wrist, guiding your hand away from her face, her fingers warm against yours.

“Nothing you need to be concerned about,” She said softly.

That stung more than you expected, and you pulled your hand back, tucking it into your sleeve like it had betrayed you.

“Okay,” If she wanted to keep things at a distance, fine. You could do that too.

She was fidgeting again, “Saw we got an A on the project.” She said, her laugh dry and humorless.

“Yup.” Your response was just as barren as hers, just as pointless. “If you would have come to class, you would've known we got picked, along with two other student groups, to represent the class at this year's DeltaLab Symposium.”

“I think I got that email, just never opened it.” Riri scratched her neck awkwardly.

Now it was your turn to laugh. “Where were you anyway? Why weren't you in class?”

“Busy.”

Busy?

“Busy?” Your voice cracked with disbelief. “I haven’t seen you in almost two weeks and all I get is ‘busy’?”

She cocked her head slightly, tone still maddeningly even. “You need more than that?”

You scoffed, eyes stinging with something you refused to name. “You know what, I don’t, actually.”

You turned, ready to put distance between you and whatever this was–

But her hand curled around your wrist, not rough, not hard, but firm. You could feel the heat of her flesh on yours, and it halted you dead in your tracks.

And then she pulled you into her.

You spun back, reentering her orbit, acclimating beautifully to her oxygen, and suddenly her face was right there—closer than it had ever been in public.

“Did you let him fuck you?” She asked, voice stern, yet she sounded terrified of what your answer would be.

You reeled back, blinking. “Excu–”

“Upstairs, before I came over. Before he opened the door,” She cut in, stepping forward, close enough for you to get a whiff of what had to be her new cologne—coconut, and smoke, and warmth—your breath catching in your chest. “Did you let him fuck you?”

Her hands were on your waist now, her fingers pressing in just enough to set you off balance, and ground herself all at once. She was testing you, trying to see how far you’d let her go this out in the open.

“I–” Your voice failed you. You looked around the empty lobby like someone might materialize out of nowhere. “No.”

It came out as a whimper. Pathetic, but truthful.

Her eyes darkened, ridding themselves of the accusation and fear they carried moments ago, and the tiniest smirk curled at the corner of her mouth as her hand slid beneath the hoodie you were wearing—hakeem's hoodie—gripping your hip with bruising intent.

“Good.” She whispered, her stare puncturing deep into your soul as she gazed up at you.

Her mouth didn’t meet yours, but it hovered. Right there. Close enough that you could feel its warmth. Her nose brushed yours, her breath feathering your parted lips, as you swallowed her exhale, tasted it, and you swore your heart had stopped pumping blood entirely.

You leaned in with practiced ease, waiting for something you weren’t sure would come—and then she pulled back. Again.

She was smirking, pleased.

“You're leaning in again, pretty.”

You blinked, and that seemed to make her chuckle.

“I gotta get back upstairs to yo nigga before he comes looking for me.” Riri started backing away, eyes still trained on yours. “Told him I left my phone in the car.”

The same phone that she was now fishing out of her pocket, tapping away at the screen as the elevator doors hissed shut.

You just stood there for a while, chest heaving, fingers brushing the lips Riri almost kissed. You didn't move until your phone dinged, bringing you back into the real world. You pulled it out to find a notification from an unsaved number you'd come to know as Riri’s:

see you saturday, pretty. x

You were grinning at the message as the front doors opened, and someone entered the building, glancing at you curiously. You quickly turned, ducking your head and scurrying off into the night like a woman on fire.

•••

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” You hissed under your breath, breaking into a quick, clumsy trot up the gravel driveway as your Uber peeled off behind you.

You tugged at the neckline of your black bodysuit, adjusting the thin straps digging into your shoulders as you attempted to fix your boobs without drawing more attention to them than they were already bound to get. The fabric adhered to your chest, a second skin that didn’t leave much to the imagination.

Your loose, light-washed jeans drooped low on your hips, cinched just enough to reveal the subtle curve of your waistline when you moved. The contrast made you feel exposed in a way you weren’t sure you liked, causing you to regret the outfit choice just a bit, but it was too late to change now.

You were already late to help with setting up for the party, due to the long minutes eaten alive by your indecision in front of the mirror, even though this wasn't your final outfit. That would come later, that was for Hakeem.

The clothes you wore now—were for his best friend—for Riri.

As much as you tried to convince yourself you weren't dressing for her, it didn't work. Because your body recognized the excitement that surged through you as a sensation that arose only when proximity to Riri was on the table. You’d oiled your skin just enough to catch the light, practically took a bath in your perfume, glossed and reglossed your lips about seven times on the way over here. Nobody else elicited this type of behavior from you, who were you trying to kid?

You’d grown fond of the feeling of Riri’s hands on you, on your skin, like the way she touched you on Hakeem's birthday, the way she embedded her fingertips into your hips in the lobby that night. She left a bruise from the force of her touch, and the ferocity of her jealousy. You liked that.

And you wanted more.

Hence the revealing outfit. More exposed skin for her to caress.

That was all you could think about as you hurried up the driveway, approaching the front porch of the house. It towered in front of you, bathed in golden-hour light, its massive frame nestled among tall pines and expertly manicured hedges. The green paint of the house blended beautifully with the surrounding trees, and from where you stood, you could see the glimmer of lakewater, peeking from behind the slope of the lawn. It was gorgeous. Ridiculous. Expensive. You hadn’t realized Sherry would shell out for something like this, but Riri clearly knew how to finesse.

You jogged up the front steps, already working on your apologetic lie as you opened the door.

“Sorry, I know I know, I’m late,” You called out as you stepped into the house, following the soft pulse of music floating from somewhere deeper inside. “I missed my bus and I had to wait forever for my uber to show up, and–”

You stilled.

“Oh.”

The word barely made it out.

The living room opened up like something out of a catalog, ceilings high and vaulted, air perfumed with expensive pine and fresh flowers. But your eyes weren’t on the space. They were on her.

Riri stood in the center of the room, holding steady a silver ladder with one hand as Zariyah balanced on the top step, carefully tying a large, metallic Saturn balloon to a ceiling beam.

“You’re late.” Riri didn’t even look at you. Her voice was clipped, barely a note above casual irritation.

“I know, I uh…” You set your purse down on the entry table with a nervous thud, trying not to let your face betray the swirl of feelings that just crashed into you. “Missed my bus.”

A lie, and a weak one at that. But it was far simpler than saying you spent too much time wondering if she’d think you looked good.

Your eyes bounced between her and Zariyah, watching as Riri handed her another balloon, sporting a small smile, and the taller girl accepted it like a prize bestowed upon her. You couldn't help but scoff silently at the sight of their exchange, feeling a wave of disappointment crash into you.

You were supposed to be the one here with her, decorating with balloons, and putting up banners, and building something out of nothing, just the two of you. Instead, here she was, with Zariyah. Of fucking course.

Were they joined at the fucking hip or something?

Annoyance rose in your throat before you could stuff it down, coiling and hot. You wanted to ask why Zariyah was here, why Riri hadn’t mentioned she’d be helping. You knew she was bringing the cake, but why had she stayed?

It felt like Riri was trying to make a point, trying to prove to you that you were indeed replaceable. You didn't dare voice that though, you just stood beneath the arched entrance, staring them down with hot fury.

And when Riri finally looked at you, her gaze skimmed your outfit, assessing you. No expression gave her away, but her eyes lingered, like she was mentally undressing you, her stare making you second guess your choice to go braless under a tank that clung to you in all the wrong ways. Or right ways, depending on whose gaze you were trying to catch.

She didn’t say anything.

Just looked.

And then turned back to the ladder.

You hated how much that silence burned.

You hated her, and the control she had over your mind, and body, and heart.

“It’s alright, gorgeous,” Zariyah’s voice floated down with a wink as she descended the ladder, sticking her hand out to Riri for balance. “I didn’t mind sticking around to help Ri. You know her lil ass wouldn’t be able to hang shit by herself.”

Riri rolled her eyes at the smirk Riy tossed her way, “Man, here yo ass go.”

You let out a stiff, awkward laugh. It was hollow in your throat, fake even to your own ears. “Sorry again for being late,” You offered, stepping deeper into the living room now. “Is there anything else y’all need me to do? Besides hanging decorations?”

Riri didn’t miss a beat, her voice holding that usual venom, but this time, it was different. More pointed. More personal. “The party is for your nigga, you should be the one with the list of things that need to be done. This was all your idea.”

The reminder cut deep, and Riri knew it would. Yes the party was for your boyfriend, yes it was your idea, how many times did she have to say it? You didn't understand why it was so natural for her to be cruel, even after admitting she hated how it made you feel.

“I know that,” You gritted out, chest rigid. “I was just saying it looks like y’all got a lot done while I wasn’t here, so I figured I’d ask if there was anything specific left.”

“There’s still a lot of shit that needs to get done,” Riri muttered, barely glancing in your direction.

“Okay… like what?”

Riri snapped her gaze to yours, jaw tightening. “You always need somebody to hold your hand through shit. Just figure it the fuck out, I don’t know.”

That did it. You crossed your arms, stepping forward slightly, the jealousy that had been simmering since you walked in—since you saw her with Zariyah—boiling over. “And what if I leave? And have you figure it the fuck out, alone? What if I just say I’m done, completely? Because having you talk to me like some bitch off the street ain't worth it, Riri.”

Your voice came out more forceful than intended, words heavy with an implication only Riri was meant to catch. The weight behind your words wasn’t just about the decorations, or the party, or her attitude, it was about everything else, everything unspoken. What if you cut the cord that tethered you to her?

What if you chose to suppress the part of yourself that ached for her?

What would she do then?

Evidently, she didn't have an answer, she just stood there. You knew that look on her face well, because you wore it often. Riri was speechless, hurt by what you’d said. Never had you been the one to paint her in the colors of helplessness, it had always been the other way around. And maybe it made you a little cruel, but you couldn’t help it, you liked how it felt. Liked how it looked on her.

By the time Riri had geared up her rebuttal, Zariyah was stepping in, just as things began to teeter. You’d kind of forgotten she was there, if you were being honest.

Riy raised both brows, shutting the small girl down before she could speak, “Ri, why you always gotta be a dick?”

Riri scoffed, not backing down, even though you and her both knew she’d already played her hand and lost. “Nah, cause she act like she forget how to think every time she walk in a room.”

“Don't talk about me like I’m not standing right here, Riri.”

She was scowling at you, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. You turned toward Zariyah then, eyes still on fire, voice full of purpose. “Riy, since Riri’s default is always asshole, do you mind telling me what else needs to be done? Like, the things y’all didn’t already finish?”

Zariyah grinned at you, clearly enjoying the whole exchange between you and her lover, but not hiding who she was siding with. She walked over to you and slid her arm around your waist, leaning in. “Oh gladly, pretty face. We can finish setting up without her. Let her be pissy all by herself.”

You didn’t miss the way Riri’s jaw clenched, the way her eyes narrowed when Zariyah’s fingers settled at the curve of your waist like she belonged there. You tossed her a look, cool, smug, daring her to say something else.

And of course, Riri didn’t. But the flames in her eyes said more than enough.

You let Zariyah guide you toward the kitchen, both of you giggling under your breath like kids ditching class, while behind you, Riri simmered. That familiar heat pulsing between you—bitterness, possession, want.

Let her stew in it.

•••

“Pineapples on pizza is a sin,” Zariyah declared as she backed through the front door, arms full of greasy boxes.

You let out a breathy laugh, shifting a massive aluminum pan against your hip. “Oh my god, right? I’m allergic anyway, so it’s literally a threat to my life.”

You both set the food down on the sprawling kitchen island, still giggling. The savory scent of garlic and melted cheese filled the house pristine air, grounding you for just a moment. You’d spent the last few hours corralling caterers and avoiding Riri altogether. You had no clue where she was—probably sulking somewhere—but you could feel her presence like static under your skin, the ghost of her attention lingering just out of reach. Always just out of reach.

Outside, the lake shimmered like glass, and golden afternoon light spilled through the floor-to-ceiling windows, pooling across the marble countertops. It looked serene—felt like it should be—but inside, your chest sting. All this quiet, all this beauty, and still, there was something unsettling pacing behind your ribs.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, pretty face,” Zariyah said suddenly, wiping her hands down her fitted jeans, “But is your boyfriend trying to kill you?”

“What?” You blinked, caught off guard, until your eyes landed on her smug smile and the open pizza boxes.

“Oh. Right. With the pizza,” You laughed, dragging a hand over your face. “You know, I never really thought about it, but you might be right.”

“I’d kill him before he even got the chance to harm a single curl on your gorgeous head,” She added, so matter-of-fact you almost choked. “And I mean it.”

You chuckled again, a little tighter this time, reaching for the bags of ice stacked near the sink. As you poured the shards into the cooler, the loud crunch and clatter masked the thrum of your heartbeat. Zariyah had been flirting like this all evening, smoothly, easily, and her attention didn’t feel like a trap, not the way Riri’s did. It was comforting, familiar in a way you couldn’t explain.

It made you think of your sister. Riy was the kind of girl your sister would love and respect. The kind of girl your mother would hate on sight. The type of girl you would never be.

And that thought only pinched harder at your sternum. Because if Korin ever found out about what had been happening—what you’d let happen—between you and Riri, she’d never look at you the same. She’d be disappointed in ways you couldn’t survive. And maybe she’d be right. Maybe this was the kind of thing that couldn’t be forgiven.

“Riri told me about what happened that day I saw you crying.”

Riy’s confession pulled you out of your head, and made your stomach drop down to hell, a hot wave of anxiety burning you all over. Your fingers dug into the counter, gripping it like a lifeline. You were so glad your back was turned. She couldn’t see the panic blooming behind your eyes. “What do you mean?”

“When you ran into me that day, leaving her dorm,” She clarified, voice calm but steady. “I was confused as fuck, so I asked her about it.”

You swallowed, hard. “A-And she told you?” The crack in your voice betrayed you, and you winced.

It was very likely that you were going to faint in front of this gorgeous girl if she indeed knew what happened that day in Riri’s room.

“She said you told her about your home life. Your mom.”

Oh.

Not at all what you were expecting. Not even close. Relief and anger warred inside you, tangling in your throat. Riri had shared something you told her in confidence with someone else, without your consent. It was a breach of trust—a betrayal.

Though you didn’t know how you would’ve handled her actually knowing the real truth. Zariyah was already intimidating in her silence, in her stare, the idea of her knowing what really passed between you and Riri, what still lingered unspoken… was terrifying. You couldn’t begin to imagine how she’d look at you if she knew Riri wanted you, and worse, that you wanted her back.

You understood Riri's instinct to lie, hell, you’d done it yourself not so long ago, spinning a story for Hakeem in the heat of the moment that resulted in this party. You just wished she'd told a different lie, one that excluded your pain.

You cleared your throat, voice flat as you dumped more ice into another cooler. “Yeah, uh… yeah.”

The cubes splashed and cracked, some of them skipping out onto the tiled floor, but you didn’t bother catching them. Your focus narrowed on the existing tightness in your chest getting tighter, the sting behind your eyes, your mother’s voice flashing through your mind, and you felt sixteen again, back in that kitchen, too afraid to speak up.

Your current discomfort was not an act put on to throw Riy off the scent of you and her girlfriend, this was no distraction. These were real feelings, and you hoped the stiffness in your posture would deter her from prying any further.

“I know you don’t know me like that,” Zariyah said, stepping closer, her voice gentler now. “But I just wanted to say… I get it. I know a thing or two about complicated moms. And hating them.”

You shifted toward her slowly, but she wasn’t looking at you anymore, just busy arranging the liquor bottles and mixers, lining them up like soldiers, her profile calm and composed.

“If you ever wanna talk,” She added, “I’m around.”

You stared at her without words, unsure how to receive that kindness you deemed yourself unworthy of. She wouldn't offer it if she knew the full story, so why should you be allowed to take it like this? How was it fair to her?

But that didn't mean you hadn't wanted to accept it.

She offered a small smile, then turned back to the table, and that’s when the devil rounded the corner.

“I need to go. Gotta get ready for the party,” Riri announced as she entered, not even acknowledging you. “Z, baby, you ready?”

Zariyah glanced at you, then back at her girl. “Uh, yeah. Just let me hit the bathroom real quick.” She stopped on her way to the stairs, squeezing your arm as she passed. “I meant what I said. Just think about it.”

With that, she ascended the stairs, leaving you alone with Riri. A tangible silence blanketed the both of you, feeling deceptively calm, like the still air before a summer storm. Riri hadn’t said a word at first, she just stood across the room, watching the stairs until the echo of Riy’s footsteps disappeared into the hush. Then, she moved toward you, impatience fueling her stride.

Her steps measured once she stood directly in front of you, calmer, eyes softening as they landed on yours. Without asking, Riri's hands found your waist, her fingers brushing against the bruise she’d left behind on Thursday, hidden beneath your bodysuit, and just above the waistband of your jeans. You flinched slightly, not in pain, but because the contact was so intimate, so sudden, and you knew she was thinking about it too.

“Riri, are you crazy?! Wha–”

You tried to push her away, but she wouldn't let you. Instead, she pulled you into her fully, arms wrapping around you with the kind of grip that begged for stillness, for safety. She pressed her head against your heart, and whispered, “I’m sorry.”

You blinked down at her, lips parted, eyes drowning in want and confusion. “Riri…”

“I’m sorry I’m an ass,” She said, voice muffled against you.

“Oh, so you are aware of that?” You tried to joke, your laughter coming out soft and unsure.

“Yeah.” Her response was quiet. “Just… can’t help it.”

Her arms dropped, and the warmth of her touch vanished just as quickly as it came, leaving your skin cold in its absence. She stepped back a little, but the ghost of her hands lingered on your person.

“Riri, did you just–” You breathed. “You just hugged me.”

“Don’t make it weird, okay?” She groaned, running a hand over her face. “I just… I needed that. Needed to feel you.”

You didn’t say anything at first. You couldn’t. You were still trying to catch up, to make sense of her sudden tenderness. You hadn’t even hugged her back, frozen not out of reluctance, but disbelief. And now, you already missed it. Missed her.

You wanted her touch back, but were you brave enough to ask for it?

It was obvious that Riri could see the longing in your face, the hesitation. The restraint you tried to wrap around yourself like a shield.

“Why are you doing this to yourself?” She inquired, her voice low, head tilting slightly in curiosity.

You backed away a step, tried to re-establish some distance, even as your heart pulled toward her. “Doing what to myself?”

“Drop the lost and confused act,” Her voice was firmer now. “That shit don't work on me, I told you that.”

“It’s not an act, Riri. I–”

But she stepped into your atmosphere again after you’d tried to remove her, her body brushing against yours, eyes searching. Her gaze dropped briefly to your lips, then back to your eyes. “Why are you denying yourself the one thing you actually want, beautiful?”

The last word was whispered, like it hurt to say. Like it was too heavy to carry for much longer.

The lighting in the kitchen was different now, with the sun slipping down past the horizon. The fragments of daylight that remained caught Riri’s face in the most cinematic way. Her cheekbones glowed gold, her eyes dark and warm, and for once they were deconstructable. Her curls were kissed in firelight, making her look like something out of a dream, like something you could never have.

You leaned forward before your mind could catch up, forehead brushing against hers, breath mingling in the space between you. Her hands found your waist again, a soft tug pulling you impossibly closer.

You inhaled her, the scent of her skin making your knees weaken.

“I’m– I’m scared,” You whispered. “I want it to be real, but it can’t be. It just… can’t be, okay?”

“I’m real. You’re real.” Her voice cracked slightly in desperation as she massaged your forearms, smoothing her palms up and down the length of them. “Why can’t this be?”

Because Zariyah's footsteps on the stairs were getting closer.

Because Riri wasn’t yours.

Because you didn’t know who you were when you were with her, only that you didn’t want to be anyone else.

Riri didn’t let you go, despite the sound of her girl getting nearer. Not yet. She held you as long as she could, until the soft thud of sandals on the steps reached the last few stairs. That's when she broke away, reluctant to fully give you up. She slipped toward the back door, pausing only once to glance over her shoulder, her lips parting into a seductive grin.

“You look really good, by the way,” She said. “Should’ve said that earlier.”

And then she was gone.

Just as Zariyah reached the bottom step.

“Ri in the car?” Riy asked casually, cracking open a bottle of water and sipping from it like she hadn’t just missed witnessing a full-blown emotional affair.

You nodded, stiffly, opting to forego words.

She nodded back. “Cool. See you at the party.”

And then she walked out to follow after her lover, leaving you in the kitchen alone. You stood there, dazed, chest heaving after you exhaled.

You could breathe again, but you didn’t want to, not if it wasn’t Riri’s air you were inhaling.

•••

The night air was thick with anticipation as you and Hakeem pulled up to the party. You two slid out of the Uber like a headline, rocking coordinated outfits. You were in a black leather miniskirt, tight enough to challenge physics, layered over fishnets stitched with tiny crosses that kissed your thighs. A fitted black crop top hugged your torso, tucked beneath a red-and-black racer jacket that hit just above the waist. Hakeem’s jacket mirrored yours, but it ran full length, clean and sharp. Underneath, he wore a crisp white tee, silver chains catching the streetlights, with black jeans that pulled the whole fit into focus.

Deliberate, but not in a way that was trying too hard.

We look really good next to each other, you thought, lips twitching into a soft smile as he tried looping his arm through yours.

“Keep those eyes shut birthday boy,” You warned, stumbling as you tried to shield his vision with your hands. “You're gonna ruin the surprise!”

Hakeem whined, swatting at your hands in protest as you guided him up the driveway, “But I can't see!”

You rolled your eyes, “That's literally the point, Keem.”

“Not like I don’t know what's going on already. You ruined the surprise weeks ago.”

Eventually, you gave up, sliding your hand into his instead, guiding him toward the porch. The house loomed ahead of you like something out of a movie—tall, dark wood slats glowing softly under strings of multicolored porch lights, the lake behind it glittering silver under the moon.

“Damn, this is nice,” Hakeem muttered, stopping to take it all in. “And you sure this is paid for? Like we not trespassing or breaking and entering, right? Cause I’m too pretty for jail.”

“Boy, bring yo ass on.” You laughed, tugging his hand. “Let’s go inside, damn.”

You texted Riri your ETA ten minutes earlier, but she hadn't replied. Probably because you hadn't responded to the text she sent you, right around the time you were still getting dressed.

i miss you.

You ignored it, didn’t let yourself go near it, because tonight wasn't about the two of you, tonight was about Hakeem. You were leaving your complicated feelings at the door. Or at least, you were trying to. And you could only hope that she would do the same.

You opened the front door, and walked into the dark, eerily quiet space. For a second you weren't sure if there was anyone inside.

“You sure this ain't a set up?” Hakeem whispered as he leaned in, just as taken aback by the silence as you were.

And then… chaos.

“SURPRISE!” The whole house erupted. Streamers flew. Balloons bounced. The bass of the music dropped hard, rattling the hardwood floors. The living room filled in seconds—bodies, flashing lights, the smell of weed and rum already floating in the air.

Damn, did you accidentally invite the whole school?

Beside you, Hakeem was beaming, that boyish grin stretching wide across his face.

“Happy birthday, baby!” You yelled over the music, wrapping your arms snug around him.

He leaned down to kiss you hard, not caring who was watching as he scooped you up in his arms. You wrapped your legs around his middle, cupping his face and deepening the kiss. You were grinning at him when you pulled away, and you let him place a soft peck on your cheek before placing you back on your feet.

Just as you were trying to find your balance on the ground again, Riri appeared, her presence shaking your core, making you stumble back a bit in that pathetic way that you always did.

She had on a soft pink button-up, left unbuttoned over a plain white tee. Simple, but criminally effective. A pair of oversized, dark-washed jeans caressed her hips, with a clinking set of keys hooked to one belt loop, drawing your eye to the movement at her waist. Gold and pearl-toned chains layered around her neck, catching the low light, swaying in rhythm with her confident steps. Between the shimmer of the jewelry, the glint of her rings, and the quiet arrogance in her posture—Riri looked good. Too good. And resisting her, in this moment, felt like trying to hold your breath underwater.

“Happy birthday old man, love you.” She placed a shot in Hakeem's hand, a half smirk hanging off her lips, “And if you think you bout to pick me up too, think again, nigga.”

But of course, Hakeem ignored her entirely, and picked her up anyway, tossing her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. She flailed and kicked, the brown liquid in her red solo cup sloshing around and landing on the floor below her.

“Put me down fuck nigga!” She yelled, but it was in vain. “Hakeem! I mean it, put me down!”

You couldn't swallow your laughter, not for a lack of trying. They were so endearing, genuinely. Like siblings almost in the way they bickered.

He finally put her down, laughing as she flipped him off, and then he turned to address the crowd of amused onlookers, “Thank y’all for coming out to celebrate ya boy! None of this would've been possible without my two favorite girls!”

Hakeem pulled you and Riri on either side of him, wrapping strong arms around the both of you, and holding you in place as he continued, “They may hate each other, but they love me more. Shout out to them!”

The crowd erupted like fangirls, the ferocity in their roar startling you.

That was the moment you finally allowed your eyes to find hers—Riri’s. She was watching you from beside him, drink in hand, and the look she gave you made your skin flush hot. Unmistakable lust glinting in her gaze. She didn’t blink, didn’t flinch, didn’t try to hide it.

You wanted to shy away, but the depth of her brown orbs were too alluring, giving you no other option than to stare back.

Luckily, your boyfriend had impeccable timing. He turned to you, holding his hand out with a smirk. “Dance with me?”

And you nodded, letting him pull you into the living room, where the crowd moved like waves in a storm. Bodies grinding, swaying, sticky with sweat and liquor, music throbbing through your chest as you let it take over. You pressed your back against Hakeem’s chest, hips moving with intent. You heard him groan above you, his hands anchoring at your waist, holding you close, and your heart thundered.

But it wasn't for him, not entirely.

You closed your eyes, imagined someone else behind you—smaller, sharper, warmer. Imagined Riri’s breath at your neck, her hands guiding your hips, her voice rough in your ear. And for a moment, it was real, because you could feel her watching you from somewhere in the room. When you moved, so did her eyes, studying the fluidity of your waistline.

You ground against Hakeem harder, making her watch as he skillfully caught your ass each time you threw it back.

“Ima need you to relax,” He grunted into your ear, “before I have to take yo fine ass upstairs.”

The cold kiss of his gold chain brushed your throat, and you giggled breathlessly. “You getting ahead of yourself, birthday boy. A little too freaked out.”

“I can show you freaked out,” He slapped your ass. “Since you want an audience.”

You hated how much that turned you on. Not just him, but the spectacle of it. You could already feel Riri’s rage as she continued to stare from wherever she was. The question now, was what were you planning to do with it?

“I’m gonna get a drink,” You said quickly, peeling yourself off him. “Let you cool off.”

“Running away’s just gonna turn me on more, baby girl.”

You didn't acknowledge him as he called after you, you just walked away, playfully shaking your head.

You slipped your way through the crowd, heart racing, heading right for the kitchen. It was packed in there too, but the energy was calmer, mellow. You grabbed a shot, downed it fast. Wincing. Then poured something else from the array of bottles you watched Zariyah arrange earlier, letting the liquor hit.

Some rapper's voice swelled from the speakers, the bass rattling the cabinets as you stood there humming to yourself.

You were proud of how the party turned out, especially considering it had started as nothing more than a half-baked lie. Hakeem was happy, that was what mattered most. A small smile tugged at your lips as you turned, ready to head back to his side.

But her presence stopped you.

Riri was sitting rigid in the breakfast nook at the far end of the kitchen, jaw tight, her glare sharp enough to stop you mid-step. Whatever warmth had bloomed in your chest withered away in an instant.

The low light bathed her skin, catching the sharp lines of her cheekbones and the restless energy radiating off her. Her curls framed her face like a chaotic cloud, matching the storm simmering behind her eyes. One leg bounced beneath the table, a subtle tremor of impatience she didn’t bother to hide. She brought her cup to her lips, took a languid sip, then lowered it, those dangerous eyes never leaving you.

Fuck.

You quickly spun back around, and downed another shot. You needed all the liquid courage you could stomach if you were going to face her. You tossed back one more shot before forcing your legs to move, and you silently slid into the booth beside her.

“So you like playing games.” She said, voice deceptively soft.

You didn’t answer her right away. Your gaze was stuck, watching the way her throat moved as she took a lengthy pull from her cup. The curve of her mouth around the rim. The way her gold rings caught the light as she tipped it back. She was hypnotic—dangerous—and you hated how easily you got caught in her orbit.

“Only when I know I’ll win.” The words tumbled out, flippant and smug. You knew they’d piss her off. Maybe that’s why you said them.

Riri furrowed her brows at you, genuine confusion coloring her eyes, “Is that what you think you're doing? Winning?”

“Where's Riy?” You asked, deflecting instead of answering her question. “Haven’t seen her yet.”

Riri’s eyes sharpened. “Do I look like I give a fuck where Zariyah is right now? She ain’t what I’m worried about.”

You swallowed. Hard.

“What are you worried about, then, Riri?” You tilted your head, trying to sound casual. But your nerves were firing all wrong. You weren’t used to this version of yourself, the one who instigated, flirted, pushed just to see how far she’d go. You were unraveling by your own hands, and you didn’t even know why.

Well, you did know. But of course you couldn't admit that out loud.

Riri sat back slightly, assessing you with that same heat that always made your heart sprint.

“I’m just a little confused, you see. Because a few hours ago you were talking about how scared you were to do this,” She gestured between the both of you, “But tonight, you show up here with no sense of fear, doing shit to get under my skin. So yeah, I’m confused.”

You looked away, biting the inside of your cheek. She was right. You were confusing. Confused. You were lashing out, using Hakeem, using Riri’s attention, to mask the real issue. You didn’t know how to hold it all, let alone explain it.

But instead of saying that, you bit your lip, looking her up and down, “Well, you was the one looking at me like that when I first got here. So…”

“And your response was to do that shit in front of my face? Really?” She snapped, barely containing herself.

“That shit, was just me dancing with my boyfriend on his birthday.”

Riri sucked in a breath through her teeth. “Mm. That what it was?”

You met her eyes, the alcohol giving you just enough courage. “Would it be anything else?”

Her eyes swirled black, chest rising and falling with shallow breaths, matching the rapid speed in which her leg was bouncing beside you. Riri didn't answer. Just looked straight ahead like she was trying to keep herself from saying something she couldn’t take back.

And without thinking, you reached out before you could stop yourself, gently placing a hand on her bouncing knee.

That seemed to be the wrong thing to do.

Because she turned to you with a slow precision, her eyes dragging down to your mouth and settling there, making your pulse spike.

“You know,” She said, voice low and wrecked, “You don’t have to dry hump your boyfriend in public to get my attention.”

She took your hand off her leg, her touch firm, final. Placing it back on your own thigh like it was something too dangerous to be near her.

“You should know by now that you already have it.”

She stood silently after that, walking away and disappearing in the sea of partygoers.

•••

The rest of the night blurred like smeared neon. At one point, someone cannonballed into the lake fully clothed, while another group started a drunken slip-n-slide down the hill toward the water. People were doing body shots on the pool table in the game room, and playing strip Uno in the upstairs den like it was a competitive sport. You were pretty sure someone even set up a karaoke machine in the garage.

And somewhere in the middle of all that, you’d misplaced your boyfriend, hopefully not to the skinny-dipping crowd.

You’d lost track of Riri too, not surprising after the way your last conversation ended. But in her absence, you found the girl she came with, the one with wildfire curls and a way of making you feel like you mattered.

Zariyah had given you one simple job: gather everyone in the kitchen to sing happy birthday, while she grabbed the cake from the basement freezer. A task you should be able to handle… even with the buzz swimming through your veins. And you were doing a stand-up job, surprisingly. You were ushering the dripping, half-naked masses of Hakeem’s so-called friends out of the lake and into the house for cake and towels.

You’d even found him.

In the fucking lake.

Wearing nothing but soaked boxers, with water cascading down his smooth, carved chest. Your eyes lingered on his deep brown skin longer than you wanted them to, and it took everything in you to drag your gaze away, to stop gawking at your own boyfriend like some teen with a crush.

But of course, he caught it. “You checking me out, baby girl?”

You rolled your eyes with practiced ease, though your flushed cheeks told another story. “And if I was?”

He waded closer to you as he climbed out of the water, every inch of him glistening, like some over-the-top cologne commercial. “Then I’d ask if you see something you like.”

You tried to hold your ground, but the way he looked at you—with that stupid smirk and heat in his eyes—you nearly melted. Hakeem had always looked at you like you hung the damn moon.

You swallowed, smirked, and decided to be evil.

“Zariyah wants everyone inside to sing happy birthday in the next thirty minutes,” You said sweetly, stepping back just before he could get too close. “So go dry off, lover boy.”

He let out a low laugh, shaking water from his hair like a dog, splashing you on purpose. “You always dodging me when I get you right where I want you,” He teased, but still turned toward the rest of the lake crew anyway, becoming a general barking orders, and they all began to scatter.

You walked back up toward the house, biting back a smile. God, he was annoying. And you were maybe a little too good at slipping away.

As you circled toward the front porch, you didn’t expect much, it had been the quietest spot all night, uneventful and still, like the eye of a storm.

But it wouldn't hurt to check.

And it was there that you stumbled upon a rather stoic looking Riri Williams. She was hunched slightly on the edge of the patio railing, smoke curling from the end of the blunt pinched between her fingers, eyes tracking the dark lake ahead, like it held answers she couldn’t bear to ask for.

You stepped softly, unsure whether to disturb the silence. “Oh. Hey.”

It came out quieter than you meant for it to, barely audible, and for a moment you thought maybe she hadn’t heard you. But then she exhaled a gust of smoke through her nose, slow and practiced, as if acknowledging you without looking your way.

“Zariyah wants everyone in the kitchen. You know… for the cake. Singing and all that.” Your voice was gentler now, hoping to soften whatever wall she’d bricked up since you two spoke earlier in the night.

Riri glanced at you, eyes shadowed and bored, her jaw ticking just before she muttered, “What are you, like her lap dog now?”

The insult struck a chord inside you. “No,” You fired back, straightening where you stood. “We’re friends.”

“Right.” She didn’t bother hiding her doubt, her voice a flat blade.

“You know it is possible to be friends with someone,” You continued, defensively. “Just because you’re a dickhead to everyone doesn’t mean the rest of us operate that way. Some people are actually nice.”

Riri let out a dry scoff, the kind that scraped the air more than it filled it, flicking the ash from the end of her blunt, and put it out on the railing, rubbing the embers into the wood with unnecessary pressure.

A mosquito buzzed past your ear, and you fanned it away, still eyeing her. From inside, the music swelled—Kiana Ledé—pulsing through the walls like a heartbeat you couldn’t escape. Still, this corner of the porch felt miles away from the rest of the party somehow, like its own little purgatory.

You tried again, reminding yourself that tonight was about your boyfriend. “Are you coming in or not? Thought you were giving your big speech as Keem’s best friend or whatever.”

That made her laugh. A short, grim sound that didn’t quite reach her blown eyes. “Oh yeah. My big, heartfelt speech as his best friend, or whatever.” She stood slowly, the railing creaking behind her as she shifted her weight and stepped down. “Sure. I’ll go in and sing happy birthday to him, then recite some half-assed words about how much I love and cherish our friendship while secretly thinking about how I have feelings for his girlfriend.”

She said it like a joke. Like a bit, but you didn't dare laugh.

You could hear the jagged edge under her voice, the way it cracked like glass under pressure. She tried to sound unaffected, but you were learning her too well. This wasn’t sarcasm. This was self-destruction, dressed up as snark.

You pressed your back against one of the porch beams, arms crossed, heart thudding, and you sighed. “Riri, don’t do this. Not here. Not tonight.”

She turned to you then, really looked at you, and for a second, she looked haunted. Not just angry or jealous or bitter, but lost, utterly and completely. Like she didn’t know how to pull herself out of the hole she was digging, but couldn’t seem to stop shoveling either.

And beneath all that was the worst part:

You knew exactly how she felt.

“If not here then where? If not now, then when?” They emerged quiet from her throat—the words—distressed at the corners—a thread on the verge of snapping. You examined her typically perfect features, noticing their wreckage beneath the moonlight. Her eyes were wide and wounded, jaw set in place like she was holding herself together with sheer will.

It gutted you.

You wanted to rush over to her, and press your body to hers just to keep her shattered pieces from falling apart. But you fought the urge to. You couldn’t. Not here. Not tonight. So you remained planted where you were, hip pressed into the porch railing, frozen for your own piece of mind.

“Riri,” You murmured, voice hoarse. “Do you really think this is appropriate? At his birthday party, really?”

She didn’t flinch. If anything, the spark in her eyes burned hotter.

“I think we’re way past what’s appropriate, don’t you?” She said, easing in closer.

You swallowed thickly, the night air kissing your bare skin. But it wasn’t the breeze making you shiver, it was her. The way her words curved into you like a knife, stabbing and slicing away at your forced composure.

“Ri–”

“Ain’t shit appropriate about the way I think about you,” She confessed, each syllable launching her deeper into your bounds, her voice low, and close enough that it felt like a secret murmured into your ear. “The shit I picture every time you walk in a room, do you have any idea what Hakeem would do to me if he knew?”

Air strangled your lungs.

Her fingers found your waist, all magnetic in their attraction. She trailed over the sliver of skin left exposed beneath your cropped jacket, making you jump, every nerve ending in your body igniting in a fast fire, like they had been awaiting her touch.

“Riri, what are you doing?” You whispered your question, voice trembling with restraint, even though your hands didn’t move to stop her.

Her palm slid lower, and lower, curling around the swell of your hip. “You look like this,” She rasped, eyes dragging across every inch of you, “And you expect me to keep it together? You want me to keep pretending?”

You were cornered by her gaze—drowning in it. Your body leaned in, even as your conscience begged you to pull away. But again, she was magnetic in that way. “This is-isn't fair.”

Your words were a desperate plea, for something and everything all at once.

Riri’s fingers brushed the curve of your ass possessively, fingernails burrowing in. “You’re goddamn right it’s not,” She growled. “It ain't fair that I can’t have the one thing on this earth that I know that I want.”

You inhaled sharply, your pulse thudding in your ears. “I meant for Hakeem. It’s not fair to him.”

Riri’s jaw flexed. “Right. Cause it's always about him for you, huh?”

Her voice was full of pain, and something more volatile—envy, desperation, maybe both.

“He’s my boyfriend,” You said, eyes flickering toward the door like some part of you feared he might appear. “And he’s your best friend.”

“I know all of that and I still want you.”

She leaned forward, lips hovering just shy of yours. Her breath was warm against your cheek. “I know I’m not making this shit up in my head.”

“You're not…” You admitted, finally exhaling the words that were clogging your chest. “I– I just– this would wreck him. And what about Zariyah, she–”

Riri grabbed your face then, holding you together with her bare hands, grounding you in a reality where it was just the two of you. “They are non factors when it comes to you and me. I don’t care what this would do to them. I care what not doing this is doing to us. To you.”

This house. This lake. This night. All of it felt like a dream spinning too fast.

You swallowed, throat constricted, “We can't…”

“Why?” She whispered, her forehead pressing against yours now. “I already told you I don’t care about Hakeem or Zariyah. So tell me why. Not why we shouldn’t, tell me why we can’t.”

You felt dizzy, like the world had narrowed down to Riri’s mouth and the inches left between you. You were suffocating in your own skin, thoughts spiraling. You heard your mom’s voice, felt the shame, the fear, the guilt. Hakeem’s laugh from earlier. Zariyah’s undeserved kindness. Your sister’s imagined disappointment. Your own. But under it all, buried deeper than the fear, was want. Need.

You’d never wanted anything, or anyone more.

Riri’s thumbs dabbed your cheeks, swatting away tears you didn't even know were falling. “You know what it does to me, seeing you with him? Watching him touch you, kiss you, hold you in all the ways I want to? In all the ways you won’t let me?”

Her voice cracked. “It fucking tears me apart. And I hate him for it. I hate myself for it. Because I want you whole. I want every piece of you and I could have it if you’d just… stop running from yourself.”

You blinked back another well of tears, exhaling a wet gust of air.

“Give in, baby,” She begged, her words barely holding together. “Please, give in to me. To us.”

You squeezed your eyes shut. Your chest was aching, lungs heaving with constraints you hadn't the strength to carry anymore. You’d spent your whole life being afraid. Pretending. Hiding. But here, now, with Riri—so close, so open—it didn’t make sense to keep lying.

She was gripping onto your jacket for dear life, tugging you to her, as though you'd slip through her fingers if she let go, “Give yourself to me, and I promise I’ll make all of this worth it. Please… I–I promise.”

It was this plea that shattered you.

You closed the gap between you without words, crashing your lips into hers, hungry, gasping, frenzied. She tasted like sweetness, and smoke, and something thrillingly forbidden. You walked her back until her spine was against the side of the house, the collision loud and cracking. But Riri didn't seem to mind the pain—she moaned into the kiss, wordlessly encouraging you to continue. Your fingers found her curls, just as hers groped your ass beneath your skirt, hiking it up and exposing your bare flesh to the night air.

Riri gasped, lips parting beneath yours. The kiss was a confession, an apology, and a surrender all rolled into one.

You were each other's oxygen.

Her tongue met yours in slow, sweeping movements, building heat between every shared intake of air. Her hands were everywhere, gripping your hips, tugging at your waistband, sliding up and between your thighs. She cupped your hot cunt through your stockings, and you whimpered into her throat, your knees weakening beneath you from the sensation. “Fuck baby, you're this wet already? This the typa shit that get you going?”

The pressure made your head spin, your eyes roll. You clutched at her shoulders, balling her shirt in your fingers as your hips rolled instinctively into her palm. “Mmm…”

“I-I want you, Ri. Needing you is like breathing to me,” You confessed in between kisses. “And when you're not with me, it feels like someone sucked all the air from inside me. I can't keep living like that.”

“You won't have to anymore, I promise.”

She sucked at the column of your throat, trailing wet heat down your skin. Her hand moved to grip your ass again, and you knew, if you didn’t stop this now, she would fuck you right here. Right now.

“Baby girl, you out here?”

Shit.

Hakeem.

Panic detonated behind your ribs like a bomb, and you and Riri pulled apart as though you’d been electrocuted, scrambling to fix your hair, your clothes, your faces. Riri ran a hand through her curls, and retreated toward the shadows just as you stepped into the light.

You scurried up to the door, tossing her a fearful look just as your now fully clothed and mostly dried boyfriend peeked his head out the screen door.

“Oh, hey baby,” You said, voice shrill. “Was just coming in for the cake. Riy sent me to find Riri so she could give her big bestie speech.”

Lying was not your game.

Hakeem’s smile twitched just slightly when he spotted Riri behind you. “A speech? For me?”

He stepped aside to let you both through the door.

Riri, ever so smooth and distracting, bumped his shoulder on her way in. “Yes nigga, cause I know you like that sappy shit.”

“I can’t help it. I just love being loved.” Hakeem cooed, and they fell seamlessly back into their established rhythm.

You don't know how she did it, but you had to give it to Riri for taking all the pressure off you, and shifting the energy. If it were left up to you, your cover would've surely been blown.

Inside, the kitchen buzzed with people still filing in. You spotted Zariyah, standing at the island, the cake lit and glowing with planet-shaped candles. You, Riri, and Hakeem pushed through the crowd, carving out space at the front. You ended up on one side of your boyfriend, Riri on the other, all of you circled around him like satellites. And you stole a glance at her, noting the smirk that seemed cemented into her face.

As the crowd broke into “Happy Birthday,” your voice joined in on autopilot, but your mind was gone, still reeling from the most electrifying kiss of your life. You’d finally gone there with Riri Williams, crossed that line you could never return from.

“Alright, everybody calm down!” Riri called, raising her red Solo cup in the air as she began her speech. “We’re gonna take a shot for my best friend in the whole world. We’re here to celebrate you, Keem. I love you, bro, you already know...”

The room whooped and hollered in response, but your attention drifted. You bit your lip, smiling quietly to yourself.

You hadn’t regretted it. Not even a little.

•••

The party had finally thinned, bodies spilling out of the house in a slow, drunken exodus. Laughter and footsteps echoed across the driveway as the last few stragglers disappeared into the night. Somehow, miraculously, the house stood untouched. No broken furniture, no trashed bathrooms. Just the distant scent of weed, spilled liquor, and a buzzing silence.

You lingered in the kitchen, half-focused as you brewed a fresh pot of coffee, the clinking of ceramic mugs and the whirr of the machine grounding you. But your mind drifted somewhere else entirely. Still on the patio, still back in Riri’s mouth.

“We're all staying the night, right?” Zariyah’s voice cut through your haze. She was barefoot now, hair a little frizzy from dancing. “Cause I won’t mind taking advantage of that rich people water pressure.”

“I’m down,” Hakeem called, already halfway slumped in the breakfast nook, but perking up at the thought of sleep.

You felt the shift before you saw it, three sets of eyes landing on you all at once, waiting for your agreed response.

“What?” You blinked, confused as their stares pulled you back to reality.

“Do you wanna stay?” Hakeem asked, all big brown eyes and stupid charm.

“Uh… sure,” You muttered, stirring sugar into your cup of coffee just to have something to do with your hands.

He grinned, “Sweet!” And pushed off the counter with renewed energy. “I already picked our room.”

He came around the island, dropping a sloppy kiss to your cheek that made you recoil just a bit, but not enough for him to notice. It was soft and warm, but it didn’t burn. Not like Riri’s still did, even now.

“Thanks again for the party, y’all. I love y’all!” He hollered, jogging up the stairs all giddy.

Riri’s eyes were on you the minute you turned around. Watching, studying, the glint of pride shining in them confirming what you already knew. She’d seen the way your body flinched when Hakeem kissed you. And she was being smug about it, like she’d won something, claiming your reaction as her prize.

“I’m in for the night too,” Zariyah chimed, stretching with a satisfied sigh. Then, as if it had been premeditated, she turned to Riri with a grin sharp enough to slice right through you. “Wanna join me in the shower, Ri?”

The words were all sultry invitation, and you hated how easily they slid off her tongue.

Riri didn’t answer right away. No, she had to smirk at you first. Bite her lip, and take her time rising from her bar stool like the devil herself, her gaze exacted on you the whole damn time.

“Yeah,” She murmured, matching the seductive way Riy slurred her words. “I’m coming, Z.”

Your stomach twisted, bile threatening to spill out your throat. You wanted to protest, to stop her in her tracks and ask what she thought she was doing, but Riri didn't give you a chance.

“Night,” She said. One word. Casual. Cruel. Final.

Then she was gone, sauntering up the stairs like she hadn’t just shattered you with a smile on her face. You hated her. God, you wanted her. And tonight, it felt like both were the same thing.

Eventually, you made your way upstairs, feet dragging beneath you, your stomach still twisting with every imagined image of Riri—naked, wet, laughing in the steam of the upstairs shower with Zariyah. After everything she’d said to you. After everything she’d pulled out of you, this was the treatment you got?

You weren’t naïve. You didn’t expect her to stop sleeping with Zariyah overnight just because she kissed you like you were air, and she hadn’t breathed in months. But doing it here, under the same roof, felt sort of callous.

You lay curled on your side in one of Hakeem’s oversized tees, the cotton barely skimming the top of your thighs, your thoughts racing in a dozen directions at once. The quiet of the room was too loud, thick with emotions you wanted gone, and the faint sound of running water from somewhere in the house only made your skin crawl. You knew whose shower it was. You knew.

“What’s on your mind, baby girl?” Hakeem’s voice came low and easy, his freshly showered body sliding in behind you in the sheets, his skin still warm, smelling like body wash. He wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you in, chin resting against your shoulder.

“Nothing important,” You lied, your voice barely above a whisper. “Did you enjoy your party?”

He hummed into your back, pressing a kiss just beneath your jaw. “Yeah. It was perfect.”

You smiled despite the ache in your chest, tilting your head back to look at him. “Did you get everything you wanted for your birthday?”

Hakeem lifted his head then, eyes catching yours in the dark, housing a softness in his gaze, one quickly eclipsed by something more… primal.

“Maybe there’s one thing I didn’t get.”

“What’s that?”

“You,” He said simply, and you felt how much he meant it. How much he wanted you.

“Me?” You questioned, the pool between your legs tingling at the husk in his voice.

He nodded, pupils blown wide, his fingers ghosting under the hem of your shirt, palming your naked ass. “I wanna taste you… Can I, baby girl? Please?”

The words lingered between you like a spark, intensifying the throb at your center. Your chest rose sharply as you stared at him, swallowing the thud of your heartbeat.

Riri’s voice flickered in your memory: “Give yourself to me…”

You did, but she hadn’t. Not really. She gave you her mouth, her hands, her fire—and then she handed it to someone else two rooms over. So why shouldn’t you give yourself to the boy who’d never stopped asking? The boy who you knew would treasure all of you, and never make you feel replaceable.

Your lips separated around a breath, and you nodded.

This permission changed something in your boyfriend. Hakeem’s touch turned reverent, hands gliding beneath the shirt to explore skin he’d only ever fantasized about. His mouth found yours, rough and deep, tongue dancing over yours with just enough pressure to make your toes curl. When he pulled the shirt over your head, his eyes roamed your body like a man seeing starlight for the first time.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” He praised, kissing your shoulder, your collarbone, the soft skin of your chest.

You let him leave lasting marks, tender and harsh at the same time, and when you guided him downward, his mouth followed—worshipful. Every press of his lips erased a fraction of the weight you’d been carrying. Every soft moan that escaped your mouth was a sound you’d been dying to release all night.

And when his mouth found your wet heat—open, eager—your back arched, fingers tangling in the sheets.

He groaned softly against you, like you were everything, and he could drown in you. For a moment, you let him.

You let yourself feel good.

Even if it was the memory of his best friend’s lips that ultimately pushed you over the edge.

[jazziejax]

𝐉𝐮𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐧’, 𝐉𝐮𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐧’

“Wait…you fucked both?!”

“Shut the fuck up, Mary.”

“Oh, you nasty freak! Why didn’t I know about this right after it happened?! Did you do it at the same time?”

“We are in a church parking lot! Have some couth!”

It’s the summer of 2003 in the deep heat of Mississippi, and Juicy’s just trying to live life loud—jewelry clinking, hips swinging, and lip gloss always fresh. Between running around with Mary, eating good southern cooking, keeping her name clean in a town full of loose talk, all while taking a break from behind a perfect college student, Juicy doesn’t have time for love… not that it stops love from finding her anyway.

The Moore twins are back, and so are the memories they all tried to keep buried. Elijah ‘Smoke’ Moore is silent and steady. And he still had those burning eyes like he knew things she hasn’t even admitted to herself yet. Observant as ever. And Elias ‘Stack’ Moore is still as bold, reckless, and shameless in the way he flirts, always saying the wrong thing at the right time just to see her blush.

It was just like old times. They’re her brothers best friends, and she’s not supposed to fall for either of them—let alone both. But in the hectic summer of ‘03, feelings begin to slip through the cracks as they all depend on one another, just how they did when they were younger.

What starts as teasing glances and late-night conversations grows into something tender, tangled, and far more complicated than Juicy ever expected. She’s never been one to choose between sweet and wild… so why start now?

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐎𝐧𝐞. | 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲’𝐫𝐞 𝐁𝐚𝐜𝐤 | ★ ★ ★ ★

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐰𝐨. | 𝐒𝐨 𝐰𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐰 𝐚 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲 |★ ★

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞. | 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐤 | ★ ★ ★

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐅𝐨𝐮𝐫. | *𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 | ★ ★ ★ ★

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐅𝐢𝐯𝐞.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐢𝐱.

[abigailspinach]

[starcrossedxwriter]

Wicked Fantasies Part 12 (MBJ x Black OC)

A/N: Our favs are backkkk and figuring their shit out! Enjoy!

“You know David is pissed right? Disappearing on him like that?” 

“Is David pissed or is the man who pays David pissed?” Raven’s quiet but knowing tone still heard over the soft bass of R&B music as Michael focused intently on cooking their breakfast. “Cause the David I know expresses a super limited range of emotions.”

The pair languished the Monday after the Oscars away in Michael’s suite, only extracting themselves for basic needs. And they only felt more inclined to spend yet another day cooped up with each other. They both crashed, savoring the brief silence from the outside world. It was blissful. 

And Raven wanted to remain planted within this cozy perfection. Safe. Forever. 

When was the last time she felt content enough to rest? Where she did not deprive herself of what she needed out of guilt or shame or fear? Here, there was no one to fail, no one expecting the world of her. The wall bearing down on her disintegrated into nothing.

There was only love. There was only care and intention and grace and a place to rest. 

She imagined there were important meetings or interviews he could be doing. But he seemed content to rest, for other reasons, beside her. And she started to wonder if she was that for him too… His place to rest. 

“Both.” 

“In my defense, I did text him.”  

“Yea, after you boarded.” 

Raven’s hand stilled as she munched on grapes from her delicate perch on his counter, immediately detecting genuine concern still lingering within his teasing tenor. In hindsight, she could see that her flippant text to David a minute before takeoff was out of a foolish belief that he and his boss didn’t care. So it didn’t matter how potentially reckless it was. But in this new light, guilt sat uncomfortably in her chest.

“Okay… I can admit I wasn’t really thinking straight. After your interview and the premiere, I was just…” Her eyes fell away from his, a hint of shame clouding her soft eyes. “Fuck. I was falling apart.” She sat in contemplative silence for a beat, Michael not rushing to fill it. “I felt like I couldn’t figure it out anymore. I could always figure it out before. Every problem seemed worse than the last but I always… figured it out. But you… you fucked up everything,” she sniffled. “Everything I believed, everything I thought I was. And I was looking at the shit show that was my life and drowning under the weight of all the things I had to figure out. And I knew I wouldn’t be able to figure out any of it here. Where everything reminded me of you. So I had to get on the first thing outta here,” she added jokingly to lighten the mood a bit. 

She did not mean to burst their bubble this soon. 

“I don’t regret going but it was wrong to disappear like that and I’m sorry I made David and David’s boss worry. Maybe I can find a way to make it up to him. And you, of course, as his boss?” she offered playfully, a teasing seduction on her lips, determined to not ruin the mood with reality any sooner than necessary. “Think he’ll forgive me then?” 

“He might but his boss is gonna make you work for it.” 

“I think I can handle it.” She shot him a wink across the island as he chopped vegetables. 

Chopping veggies? Abandoned with the speed of light as Michael found his place between Raven’s parted legs. His hands gripped the meat of her thighs, Raven’s moans soft against his ear. 

“I heard his boss is hard to please?” His voice could’ve hypnotized her. 

“Oh I’m always up for a challenge.” She whispered back seductively, with a wink. However, before she could follow that down the path of assured pleasure, that guilt crept back up. “Wait… But seriously, remind me to order David an edible arrangement later. As an apology.” 

“Babyyyyy. I was playin’. He’s good. No need to apologize.” 

“No, it’s just… I actually started to kinda like him and I could’ve done it without making his job harder, you know?” 

“That’s fair… but why an edible arrangement?” 

Raven shrugged, “He has a weird thing for them. Obsessed with chocolate-covered strawberries too.” 

Michael paused. “How’d you even figure that shit out? Couldn’t get a word outta that nigga that wasn’t about you.” 

Raven laughed. “Just don’t have the magic David touch, I suppose,” she grinned coyly. “But no, he would point one out every time we passed a storefront or like an ad for them. Just like a random comment about how nicely arranged they were or how the fruit was always fresh. And after my meeting with Angelica, I had him stop at a bakery on my way home to, you know, treat myself. And when I tell you that nigga was staring at those strawberries so hard.” 

Raven’s head fell back in exuberant laughter. 

“God I wanted to text you so bad that night to tell you. He was like damn near drooling. So I told he should get one, but he said it would be inappropriate to shop for himself while he was on the clock or something silly. And then lectured me about long conversations and ‘dilly dallying’ in public.” 

“That sounds exactly like him. N let me guess, you still got him one?” 

Raven buried her face in the nape of his neck, savoring the faint remains of his cologne mixed with his natural scent, as she let out a soft chuckle. 

“I don’t know if I love how well you know me. Lied and told him I needed to run back to the lady’s room and bought him a dozen. Which he accepted, albeit reluctantly. And that is what I learned about David during our time together. Don’t take that away from me,” she begged jokingly as Michael laughed. 

“Edible arrangement added to the to-do list. I gotchu.” 

With that tucked away for later, she settled easily into his warm embrace. He cradled her head close to him, kissing her lips softly. She savored it, her arms wrapping around his bare shoulders to bring him in closer. 

His lips grazed and gently sucked down her neck, Raven’s soft moans only heard in his ears. Sweeter music than the tones of Solange floating in the background. Raven’s head lulled back in pure ecstasy as his fingers slid her panties to the side. 

However, the first tinges of smoke from the stove distracted Michael from his current task feasting on Raven to the one he previously abandoned: their breakfast. 

“Shit. My bad, baby. You always distracting me,” he teased her with a soft final peck to salvage their eggs. “Yea… these are dead.” 

She laughed, forcing herself off his island and to his large bay windows so the smell did not linger all morning. 

“We’re off to a terrible start.” 

She glanced over to his mom’s garden in the corner, noticing vibrant blue flowers starting to bloom, their petals heavy with droplets of rain from earlier that morning. 

“I gotta tell your mom how gorgeous these flowers are.” She paused, the notable silence in Michael’s home finally hitting her. “Wait, speaking of… Where are your parents? Kinda surprised we haven’t seen them yet. It’s almost noon. They feeling ok?” 

Michael’s heart fluttered at the genuine look of concern that fell onto her face as she returned to her perch as he restarted their omelets. He could count on one hand the women who made it to the coveted “meet the parents” stage in his entire life. But only one put forth any sort of effort, only one treated them like her own from the moment she met them. And that was Raven. And now all he had to do was make it official. 

He would’ve proposed the night of the Oscars if it were solely up to him. But it wasn’t. His devotion to her did not cloud his ability to see reason. There was still so much between them that required discussion and healing. As much as he did not want another day to pass calling her anything other than his wife, if he knew her as well as he believed, he knew she still needed time. Time to trust him and time to truly believe she deserved him. And for her? He’d wait ions and lifetimes. Whatever it took. 

And while something in him wanted to race to the first day of their lives together as a true family, he did not want to miss the journey either. 

“Oh yea they’re totally fine. More than fine actually. They left for St. Lucia super early this morning. Wanted some time away. They texted, told me to send some love to their favorite sleepyhead… which wasn’t me apparently.” 

“They’re sweet. So we conveniently have the house to ourselves??” she teased.  

“Why you say it like that??” A smile already forming, letting her know her suspicions were correct

“I just think it’s convenient. But your parents certainly got the better end of the deal,” she joked. “They get days in the Sun and I get their son who keeps burning my breakfast.” 

“You always got jokes. I’ll admit, I had a hand in upgradin’ them a bit. But it was their idea to give us some space. When I woke up before you yesterday, they were gettin’ ready to go spend a few days at my sister’s. I suggested that a few days by the ocean would be more relaxing than chasing after their grandkids all day.”  

“That’s really sweet, baby. I just… don’t want your parents to feel like I’m taking over. I love being here but I’m a guest. We could’ve just holed up at the condo or somethin’.” 

“Nahh we couldn’t’ve. I sold it after the premiere.” 

“Wait what? Why?”

Michael’s shoulders flexed as he paused, the man still not taking his eyes off their breakfast for fear of ruining it again. 

“Cause I… I thought alot about what you said. And I went back to the penthouse and I could see it. All the ways bein’ there made you feel unprotected. Everything there was a facade, everything in it was disposable. By design. And that worked for me… til I met you. And I saw how that place would’ve made you feel like you didn’t fit into my real life. But you do. I just… didn’t wanna take you back there either if you came back? Never want you to feel like that again. Thought we both deserved a clean slate. We can get another penthouse downtown anytime. Just say the word ‘n it can be our spot for late nights ‘n shit. An extension of our life together, not a different one. Oh and all your clothes are in storage, I’ll have them delivered.”

Tears sprung to her eyes as she simply stared at him in silence. Sometimes it hit her like a train, not simply his love for her. But his devotion. His consideration for her and the things she needed that she would’ve never dared ask for herself. 

“You didn’t need to do that, babe.” 

His head turned toward her when he picked up on the tremor of emotion. He reached over and rubbed her bare thigh, stealing a brief kiss before returning to his task. 

“Yea I did. You deserve better than that, better than who I was when I took you there. You aren’t some fantasy I’m trying to force into real life, Rae. You aren’t the place I go to be someone else. You’re home. My sanctuary. And I’m not gonna treat you like anythin’ less ever again. Hell, you want me to sell this shit too? We’re gonna need a spot that’s yours too anyway.”

“God I love you. Thank you, baby. But… don’t sell this place, please? Not yet anyway? I mean it's yours so you get to decide but I love it here.” “Even if it ain’t ours? I want you to… you know, feel at home here too. We can redecorate or remodel if you wanna switch some shit up.” 

“I feel right at home. We could stay in this house forever exactly as it is and I’d still love it. Besides, not like we’re ready to be roomies yet anyway, I can give my notes on furniture later.” Raven winked at him.  

While her tone was purely casual, her words stuck to his brain matter like soot. Michael was certainly ready to have her move in… was she not ready for that step? However, he knew now was not the time for that conversation when more painful ones dangled heavily between them. 

He leaned over and kissed her softly. “Have I told you how much I love you today?” he whispered. 

“Several times. But like you, I don’t get tired of hearing it,” she mused. “But I am really hungry so say it while you finish these damn omelets.” She kissed him before steering him out from between her legs and back to his giant stove. “Cause burning breakfast twice is unforgivable”  

The sacrifice of sleeping and fucking an entire day away was they missed their glorified gossip session after the Oscars and countless after parties to download each other on their wildest interactions and gossip of the night. Michael was not typically one for salacious gossip, perhaps because he was used to being the subject of it. But she could tell he enjoyed these little debriefs they had where he could spill any sort of tea or gossip and know Raven would not spread it around. So the rest of their cooking and feasting time was spent debriefing the night, unpacking unfounded conspiracies and gossip that they would never talk about again… until after the next event or party. 

Michael had taken for granted how much he missed this specific part of their relationship. The banter, the jokes, the levity of just being them. 

He would not deny the weight that still swayed above them since Raven came home. But he would remain grateful, even in the small awkward moments it created. Because even in those moments, they still felt like them again. And there was peace in that. 

They immediately retreated to the cave of Michael’s suite, not taking advantage of the giant empty house or the giant movie theater in his basement. No, they were still more cozy snuggled up in his bed, sharing lazy, unrushed kisses and sensual touches while half watching some 90s classic neither cared to pay attention to. 

The elephant in the room was harder to ignore today, after their bodies claimed all the rest they needed to no longer be driving on empty. Michael had the same internal debate Raven had. They were desperate to stay in the bubble and hold tight to this peace a bit longer. But the inevitable was not going to hurt any less tomorrow or the day after that. It would just hang over them until they broke apart again. 

And that was not an option either.  

“You aren’t a bad sous chef,” Michael offered, breaking the brief silence between them. ”Take direction very well,” he offered with a suggestive tone, causing Raven’s body to heat up with lust. 

“Thank you,” she offered quietly with a soft peck to his chest. 

The silence that followed was not one of their usual comfortable variety. No, this was the sort of deafening loud silence, the type that begged her to ask the questions buzzing around loudly in her brain, that demanded the apologies and assurances she needed to trust this again. And all those things built up until Raven could hold it no longer. 

She lifted her head, propping herself up on his chest to look into his eyes. She could tell he knew what she was about to say as the smallest flicker of panic flew like a shooting star across the deep abyss of his eyes. 

“C-Can I ask you something?” 

“Always.” 

“Did I…” 

She supposed it was improbable and naive to think all her insecurities disappeared after a few beautifully written letters and a love confession. She knew it would be a long road to not listen to her first mind, which even right now was bracing her heart to hear him confirm what she spent the better part of two months believing. 

She took a step down the road and every cell in her body screamed in regret. She could just forget it all and move on. Did the who, what, when, where, and why even really matter? Or could she just accept it and move forward? 

But how was that any different than before, a voice she also recognized as her own demanded? She spent her entire life pushing down and ignoring pain to simply move forward instead of confronting it. Instead of advocating for herself and her feelings and her needs. If Michael was truly her place of respite, why would she ever consider doing that here? Coming home had been so difficult that it would be easier to believe that was the hardest part. But this? This was the hardest part. Rebuilding. 

She started to chew nervously on her bottom lip, the words feeling more like bile in her throat now. 

Michael tugged her lip gently from her teeth.

“Nothin’ to be anxious about, baby girl. I’ll tell you whatever you wanna know. Just ask me. All the cards on the table.” 

“Did I do… something? Or not do enough of something to make you want her again? I believe what you told me… about Tasha. And honestly, when I think about it, it’s so stereotypically fucking Tasha, it’s not surprising at all. But if the reason you got back with her in the first place was because of something I did, I want to know. Whatever you say, I can forgive you but I want to understand what I did wrong? ”  

Logically, he knew coming back to him had not eliminated her insecurities, the beliefs she had gained over the last 30 years, but that did not stop the words from feeling like daggers to his heart. She was more than merely enough. She was everything. 

“No, absolutely not. You didn’t do anything wrong. How could you even think that, baby?” 

She shrugged and pushed herself into a seated position. 

“I mean, look at this from my perspective and tell me what I’m supposed to think? You lied to me multiple times about Tasha like it was nothing. You said y’all were done and I came over and she’s just hanging out in your living room, a place you’d said no other woman had ever been to. And I should’ve given you a chance to explain, I know that. But you can’t blame me for thinking you actually wanted her.”

“I don’t! Don’t… blame you. It just… it was never anything you did, Rae. I didn’t want her or even go back to her. I slept with Tasha once right after we started our arrangement, before your birthday and that was it. And honestly, the entire time, I just kept thinkin’ that I’d rather be with you. I was all in on you from that moment forward.” 

“The night you left for Paris, you told me you weren’t talking to her anymore. Was that true?”

His head thudded back against the soft cushion of his headboard. 

“It was. I wanted you, no question about that shit. I just didn’t tell her that… not explicitly anyway. I let her think there was still hope that I’d be back when our arrangement ended because I was too scared to let go of the old me, to jump and let myself be hurt if that’s what it took to have somethin’ real. That shit was cowardly and stupid. We didn’t talk again till she called me around New Years. When I told her I was done for good, she threatened to expose how we met. I paid her off a couple times but she kept wantin’ more and more shit. And that’s when we decided to just put it out ourselves. Cause I knew she wasn’t gonna stop. And I… I was pissed at Tasha for hurting you and I saw a way to get back at her and I took it. Not proud of that shit, I know I fucked up in every possible way. But you gotta know I never cheated and will never cheat on you, Rae. I know how that shit feels and I wouldn’t have done that to you. I will never do that to you.” 

“I appreciate that. But… I deserved to know that Tasha was a threat to you… and me. And I deserved to be part of the solution. But no, you just kept me in the dark, iced me out to deal with it on your own. Without a thought of the consequences to me.” She could not hide the obvious disappointment in her deep sigh. “Like I meant nothing to you… Irrelevant and disposable.” 

She could see in his eyes how those words were spears to the healing wound his own actions had caused within himself. And she almost regretted uttering them as she took that in. She would forgive him fully, in time. Truth be told, she was nearly there. But he needed to know how he hurt her and she needed to hear herself voice how it made her feel to ensure she would never allow someone to make her feel disposable again. 

“Raven. Listen, you mean everything to me. And I had a lot of reasons that I thought made sense at the time. I was the one that hurt her, strung her along with promises I had no intention to keep. And tellin’ you what was goin’ on would’ve been like admittin’ I fucked up and wasn’t man enough to claim you. That look on your face when you saw her name on my phone on your birthday? That shit haunted me, Rae. The resignation and disappointment. Like you realized I’d fuck you over like everybody else in your life. And I didn’t wanna be like everyone else in your life. Thought I could handle it on my own and then shit just got outta control and then it felt like I was too far down the road to do anything else.”  

“I would’ve been disappointed and pissed off. But you still would’ve been you, Michael. Mistakes and idiotic decisions don’t change who you are at the core and I know who you are. I just wish you would’ve trusted that too. I don’t need you to be my superhero, Michael. To hide your flaws so you can swoop in and save me. I love that you want to fight for me but I also need you to see me as someone who can get in the ring and fight with you. You’re gonna fuck up and I’m gonna fuck up. And I’m willing to be in the trenches with you and fight through a lot of fuck ups, Michael, but you gotta give me a chance.” 

“I can do that. But you should know that you didn’t make me feel like I need to be perfect. I just… wanna be for you. I like being your superhero? And I know that shit is selfish. But I liked being the person pulling you back up when you were drownin’ instead of weighin’ you down. I like being the person who gives you Paris, not the day we got back from Paris. I don’t wanna be the next person that fucks up with you, Rae. Or burdens you or forces you to twist yourself into knots to help them or blame yourself so you’ll throw yourself on the sword to save them. I don’t want you to do that for anyone anymore, least of all me.” 

Raven chose to lean into the silence that followed his words. She could almost feel the wounds starting to stitch themselves together as they talked. And not just their recent ones. In him, she found that some of her oldest and most painful wounds starting to ache just a bit less. 

She straddled his hips, her fingers gripping his beard gently to force his gaze gently toward her. 

“You are… you’re not like anyone else in my life. I love that you care so much about protecting me and ensuring I’m feeling something different with you, that I’m happy and whole. I love you for that. But… you can’t protect me from me. I don’t sacrifice myself for the people I love because I enjoy playing the martyr. It’s shitty and part of me only did it cause I thought it would win me their love. I know that’s unhealthy and I’m gonna work on it. But a bigger part of me does it because I do think that’s part of loving someone. And my heart just won’t let me do anything different. So yea, I would’ve happily thrown myself on the same grenade for you if that was what you needed, even knowing the consequences. And honestly… you would’ve been the first person in my life who actually made that sacrifice worth it. But it was my choice to make, not yours. And you don’t save me by taking that choice away.”

“I didn’t think about it that way and I’m truly sorry. I still got my blind spots but I’ll work on that. And we’ll work on this. And I know this don’t fix everythin’ and I gotta earn your trust back. I was wrong and you have every right to be pissed at me for as long as you want. I deserve it and will apologize every day for the rest of our lives if that’s what it takes.”

The smile she tossed his way was small but filled with understanding and empathy he didn’t feel he deserved, causing his eyes to fall to his lap in shame. One day in the distant future, he would forgive himself for the highway of destruction he caused because of one heartbreak. He put on an armor so unrecognizable that he lost sight of where it ended and he started. And though he was grateful to have mostly chipped away at that tin man encompassing him, he couldn’t chip away at his own guilt that quickly. 

“The rest of our lives feels dramatic but I appreciate the dedication,” she muttered with a very miniscule teasing grin. “I accept your apology and I believe you. I’m still… pissed, not gonna lie. But… I’m more in love with you than I’ve ever been. So I’m not going anywhere. We’re good. Honestly, in hindsight, I’m kinda glad this happened.” 

Her hands rested on his chest as she laughed at the skeptical eye roll that graced his features. He didn’t believe her one bit. 

“I’m not just saying that to make you feel better. And believe me, if you’d asked me six weeks ago, I wouldn’t’ve believed I’d ever say that. You and your blackmailing friend definitely made it 100x times harder than it needed to be. Shit was awful. But now, we get a fresh start… We can build on something stronger than lies and fantasies. And it was the wake up call I think we both needed. You to stop acting like an ass,” she teased with a smile. “And for me to stop punishing myself for other people’s shitty choices. And we both seem better for it? We’re stronger… lighter… happier than we were. So something good came out of this for both of us.” 

Michael was routinely in awe of the woman in front of him and grateful that he had the opportunity to love her. It was more than he deserved, to be with someone who embodied pure joy and light always. 

Raven felt the heavy weight that had been bearing on her chest lift, a sense of peace settling over her. There was still work to be done but this one conversation cleared the debris of the storm and gave them a path forward to rebuild. 

 “So Tasha is?” 

“Cut off and completely out of our lives.” He reached over to his bedside table and snagged his charging phone, immediately handing it to her. “Feel free to check anytime you want. She’s blocked and we haven’t talked since before she showed up here.”  

Her fingers gripped the phone, turning it over in her hands before sitting it down beside him. That wasn’t trust either. 

“No, I’m good. I… believe you. Well, I’m gonna work to believe you the right way without snooping and all that shit. Just no matter how bad it gets, no more secrets please?” 

“No more secrets. I love you. Ain’t lettin’ you go again, I promise.”

Raven nodded and let out a deep sigh, relieved that they had started to mend what fractured between them. This was their fresh start, as individuals and as a couple, and Raven could already tell it was going to be everything she dreamed of. 

“Can I ask you something now?” 

“Seems only fair. Shoot.” 

“Not gonna lie, I was fuckin’ shocked that you came back. Even more shocked you wanted to go to the show. Not complain’ one bit but I gotta know - what changed your mind?” 

Raven’s lips curled into a soft smile, one filled with both happiness and the sorrow of grief. 

“Yea I surprised myself. But my mom gave me the push I needed.” 

Michael’s hand, which had been gently rubbing her thigh, gripped it slightly in surprise. 

“Wait… What? What do you mean?” 

“Yea it sounds insane. But I went back to Charlotte, thought it'd help me figure my shit out if I went home. And it did but just not how I expected? I found some of my grandma’s old things up in our attic and I found this stack of letters to Kiara and I from our mom.” 

Raven leapt off her bed and went to her suitcase, which Allen had dropped off sometime between her flight and their drunken stumbling back into Michael’s house after partying. She rummaged through it until she found the letters, neatly folded back in their envelopes and in order. She grabbed the open ones off the top, the ones she had read over and over again, slightly blotchy and stained with her tears as she read the words of the woman who shaped her life but she had never met. 

She returned to the bed, Michael pulling her close into his arms, an action Raven greatly appreciated. Reading those words had healed so many wounds but ripped the biggest one right open: living without her mom. 

“She wrote these... There are a bunch more, these are just the ones I could open. One for every major milestone in my life. But fuck, she…” Raven let out a sigh that cued Michael into the profoundly heartbreaking, beautiful discovery this was. “She was fuckin’ awesome. I always thought my grandma was exaggerating when she said we were the same person. But she was right. She was so smart, funny, and she loved so loudly. You would’ve adored her. And I sat for an hour or more just reading her words over and over again and I… It hit me that she just wanted so much more for me. And she wouldn’t have wanted me to deny myself something this good.” 

Raven pulled out the letter her mother wrote about love and held it to him. “But I came back because of this one. You should read it.” 

“What was the milestone?” his hands grasped it but didn’t open it. 

“For when I fell in love. And every word she used to describe what she hoped that love felt like, all I could think about was you. And I couldn’t deny that you were it for me anymore. And that maybe you weren’t lying when you said I was it for you too.” 

“I wasn’t. So you came back?” 

“So I came home. For the first time in my life.” 

“I love you, Rae.” 

“I love you more.”

“Read it to me?” 

Raven smiled and pressed a kiss to his lips before sliding down to rest on his chest, excited to introduce the love of her life to her mom. 

***

One Month Later

“How was your meeting with Angelica?” Michael asked as the waiter sat their third course in front of them. 

“It was good. She’s happy with the progress since we changed the deadline. She told me to take my time and make sure it is what I want since this is like my redebut. But not too much time, whatever that means,” Raven laughed. “It’s good though. I’ll get it do-” Raven paused to cover her mouth and turned to yawn briefly. “Done. Sorry.” 

“I know you will. But maybe not by staying up till 4 am?” Michael joked, referencing Raven’s very late night tapping away in bed, which now led to constant yawning and low eyes even throughout their date night. 

He had offered to cancel it but these nights were a sacred, albeit new, tradition for the pair.  The last month was spent figuring out what their new normal was. It was an adjustment for them both, learning how to truly integrate a real relationship into their hyper-independent lives. But they were settling into their rhythm together. 

Without the debilitating weight of holding her world up on shaky hands, Raven found that writing her book was not the uphill battle it once was. Her story was nowhere near finished or even what she had once hoped it would be. But similar to her own life, it finally felt like her again. And for the first time in a while, the forgotten characters on her computer no longer felt like a reminder that everything in her life went wrong. She no longer felt as if this great story was wasted on a woman who’d never be able to do it justice. 

No, they were a reminder that everything does happen exactly how it’s supposed to and that the harder road often leads to the most beautiful outcomes. 

“I know, I know. Sorry for keeping you up.” She slid her hand into his. 

“Ain’t worried bout me, princess. Can’t keep that mind turnin’ if you don’t sleep.” 

“You’re right, you’re right. I’ve just always been a night owl. Wrote my best stuff at night way back when… it helped…” 

“Avoid thinkin’ about your problems?

“That transparent, huh?” 

“Just with me,” he winked at her. “Nah, I’ve done that shit too. During the day, there’s a million distractions. But at night, when it's just you and your thoughts and your demons? Shit gets heavy.” 

She nodded. “Yep. And my fantasy world has always been a hella lot easier than… my real life.” 

“Sure nothin’ else is keepin’ you up? Somethin’ makin’ you wanna escape real life?” 

“No, not in that way anymore. My real life is pretty damn good at the moment. Wait, knock on wood,” she jokingly hit her knuckles against the table. “Fate’s proven I’m too  unlucky to jinx it. But seriously, no it’s not a problem keeping me up… more like unfinished business? I dunno how to describe it. Just feel like there’s some shit I still can’t shake, not fully,” she mused, tilting her head before taking a sip of her cocktail. “Or I just need to sleep for another week,” she joked to restore their fun mood as Michael’s face turned contemplative. 

Michael raised an eyebrow as he listened to her. “That what the list you got at home is about?” 

At home…

Those two simple words distracted Raven for a split second from the annoyance of having her privacy invaded. However, she reserved judgement briefly, Michael never seemed like the snooping type. 

At her surprised expression, he quickly amended, “I wasn’t tryin’ to spy on you. I was putting shit away and it was in the drawer, Tasha’s name on it. Curiosity got the better of me. I shouldn’t have looked at the whole thing.” 

Raven shook her head, realizing she was being a bit silly. It was just not something she was expecting anyone to ask her about, especially him.

“It’s ok. I did leave it at your house-” 

“Our house, baby,” he quietly corrected with his tone that held the perfect blend of dominance and gentleness. 

Raven could not have stopped the dopey, lovesick grin that spread across her face if she tried. But she quickly schooled her expression. 

“You know I still have an apartment,right? A whole lease?”

“As opposed to half a lease??” he joked. 

She almost wanted to throw her napkin at him as he laughed. 

“You’re not funny,” she chuckled, “You know what I mean! I still have an apartment with that whole lease you paid for.” 

“Just hearin’ alot of semantics, baby girl. You were sayin’? Our house…” he gestured for her to continue. 

Raven could only purse her lips for a second at his antics before laughing. She supposed she was simply clinging onto semantics. She had only spent one weekend at her own apartment in an entire month. She returned on occasion to write in her preferred set up or grab clothes. She tried to spend the night at her place earlier on, fearing she had overstayed her welcome at Michael’s after being up under him (literally and figuratively) for a week. 

However, she tossed and turned pitifully without Michael’s warmth. Despite having done so for 99% of her life, her body seemed incapable of sleep without the weight of his arm on her hip as it curled around her to bring her to his chest, the soothing thumps of his heart against her back, the warmth of his hands and feet against her frigid skin. 

She held her ground… that weekend. Because her pride would not let her crawl back to Michael’s as if she could not survive without him. However, she did stop putting up any real fight in the evenings when she said she was going to return to her own apartment. He only had to ask her once to stay before she would sigh, agreeing that it was too late to make the trek back to downtown and settle back in his arms. 

While Michael seemed eager to hand over the mantle of queen of his castle to Raven, Raven held herself back from accepting it. Not because she did not want it, but because she did not know if she was ready. She had been on her own for her entire life. What did it look like to lean on someone else? Rely on someone else? She had no idea. 

Hence her desperation to hold onto a crappy two bedroom apartment with a paid lease, find a new job and maintain some semblance of her life before she met Michael. Not because she did not want the life he offered but because what he offered went against every survival instinct ingrained in her body. All she had was herself to lean on and trust - that was all she knew for 30 years. It would take more than a few months to turn that instinct off.

“The house,” she responded with a jokingly defiant tone before continuing. “I wrote it late one night and just stuck it a book I had sitting there before falling asleep.” 

“Wanna tell me about it? And why Tasha of all people is on it? I understood the kids from work and I didn’t recognize the other names on there. But Tasha? Thought we left her in the past?” 

Michael typically understood Raven far more intimately than anyone else, how her brain processed things. But this one had him stumped for the last week since he stumbled on the scrap of notebook paper stuffed in the bedside table on her side of their bed. He would not have usually let a week go by before simply asking Raven about it. But after a month of being back together, he did fear that she still harbored resentment or pain about how he handled the Tasha debacle and was just not telling him. But that was not the relationship he wanted for them.

“She was… She is, in that way, don’t worry. I just… I was wondering a couple weeks ago where she landed after everything. Reached out to some of Helen's girls I was cool with and she’s struggling. Helen completely blacklisted her. And I just… I know what that’s like. Every door slamming in your face, the stress of it. So she was on my mind, is all. Was wondering if there was something I could do… And the kids…” she stopped herself and shook her head. “Yea, just stuff that’s been on my mind.”  

Michael decided to focus on the Tasha piece and push the students to the back burner, for now. It remained the sorest subject related to everything that went down. He had tried to broach it on multiple fronts over the last month and she wouldn’t budge, wouldn’t offer him anything. Michael did not need to know the why to know that Raven was just punishing herself out of guilt or shame. And he just couldn’t allow that to go on for too much longer. 

Instead he focused on the easier of her “unfinished business.” Business that was actually his fault. And he immediately knew what she was doing: trying to find a solution to a problem he created, an injustice he caused. He loved that quality about her but it was decidedly annoying when it was his wrongs she was hellbent on righting. 

Why can’t she just hate her like I do? Like every woman would? Michael wondered to himself. But if she hated her, he supposed she wouldn’t be the woman he loved. 

“Rae… Tasha made her bed, you got blacklisted cause a nigga assaulted you. Can’t compare that shit. And what I did to Tasha’s life is on me. Not you. Her problems ain’t your fault… or yours to fix anymore.” 

“I’m not comparing. I know it’s different, believe me. I just know what it’s like to feel like there are no options. It’s scary as fuck and when people are depending on you? It’s just hard for me to know she’s going through that. I get why you had Helen fire her, why you shot back at her. I think you did what you had to at the time. So this isn’t a judgement. But we all made some mistakes that led to this and I think you’d agree that we all paid for them. We’re good, we’re happy. And regardless of what she did later, if Tasha hadn’t advocated for me on your birthday, we wouldn’t be here. I can’t forget that. Believe me, I wish I could. I don’t want our future to be built on destroying someone else’s. Even if that someone is a fucking blackmailer. That’s not what I want for us. I’m not fixing the world’s problems, just this one.” 

Michael nodded. 

“And then you hang up your cape?” He asked jokingly. 

“Yes, then I will retire… for at least a week. Can’t guarantee much longer than that,” she winked at him. 

“But nah seriously, I hear you. Don’t agree but your peace is more important than my pride so what do you need me to do?” 

“Nothing. That is all stuff I gotta figure out, doors I want to close or repair on my own. Besides, I know you don’t care what happens to Tasha and that’s totally fair. She made her bed and I get you wanting her to lie in it. I just need to do something so I feel like our fresh start is truly that. And then life can give us new problems instead of rehashing our old ones.” 

“I hear you. If you need me, you’ll tell me though.” 

“Yes, sir.” She smiled at him before picking up her fork to attack the various shared plates the waiter had slid silently onto their table. 

“So when all that’s done, what’s next?” 

“Oh you know, just focus on my book I guess? Anddddd figure out a job. Our arrangement helped me save but I don’t want to rely on that for much longer. It’d be good to find something with flexibility or maybe remote? That might be better so we don’t have a library 2.0 situation should we find ourselves embroiled in scandal again,” she laughed. “I’d love to go back there honestly but I’m fairly certain I’m persona non grata. But I’ll figure something out… I’ve got to. It’ll be a year or two before I can support myself writing full time again.” 

Michael smiled to himself, the joys of dating an extremely hyper independent woman. He did adore and love her hustle, it reminded him of himself and his friends earlier in their career. But he also knew intimately how exhausting that was. And that had been her life since she was 18. 

He was under no false illusion that he could ever convince Raven to allow him to take care of her 100%. Even though the Lord knew he desperately wanted to. So she could finally rest, so her mind could be taken up with other things other than survival. But he knew a new relationship would not undo decades of an engrained trauma response. So he continued to try in small ways to lighten her load, take barriers away so she could move more freely. 

But he could not help but wonder when, if ever, that might change. When she would trust that no matter what she needed or asked for, he would always show up and always do for her. He hoped… one day. 

“I can always help you find somethin’ too if you want help. Not all on you anymore, baby girl.” 

She reached across the table and squeezed his hand gently. “Thank you, baby.” 

“What about us?” 

“What do you mean? We’re dating and it’s going well?” She picked up her fork, a nervous energy settling over her as her own insecurities tried to seep through. 

“It’s goin’ really well. That’s not what I meant. I just… tryin’ to see where your head's at? We haven’t had the traditional 

journey n’ you’ve been through a lot. We’ve been through a lot. So just wanna figure out what pace you feel comfortable movin’ at? And selfishly… Gotta see when I can get a ring on that finger n’ change your last name.” 

The shock of his words caused Raven to almost choke on the delicious piece of salmon she had just started to swallow. 

“You can’t possibly want to marry me already.” She choked out after coughing for a few moments and sipping her wine to help clear her throat. She knew water was preferred but this conversation had taken a turn that required something far stronger than H2O. “We’ve been dating for a month.” She quickly added at his confused look, “The first time was a lie so it doesn’t count in the official record.” 

“You may not believe it but that’s all I need. Rae… I would’ve married you in Paris. Hell, I’d run you to Vegas and marry you right here n’ now if you’d let me. You’re the piece of my life I’m most certain about. I’m certain I want to build a life with you, start a family with you. I know where my head is at… But I wanted to give us some time to settle back in this, start healin’ before I asked where yours was? N’ this ain’t to pressure you or force a discussion right now if you aren’t ready. I just wanted to start the conversation.” 

“My head is still… a mess,” Raven admitted honestly. “Not about us or this. I know I want the same future with you. But with a hyphen because Raven Jordan is a terrible name,” she joked.

“Touche… Raven Turner-Jordan does have a better ring to it.” 

“It really does. But before we can get there, I think we… I need more time. Between fake dating then real dating then breaking up and real dating again, I think we deserve some more time to just figure out what blending our lives as equals looks like? We’ve been all gas from the moment we met. I kinda like this? Just dating and building our foundation? Going with the natural pace of this. I do want to live together before marriage though… so we can get all the arguments  about how you load the dishwasher out of the way.” 

“The way I do it makes perfect sense.” 

“Maybe to someone who has never seen a dishwasher in real life,” she snorted. “But seriously, I just… relationships are new for me. I’ve had like 1 in my life and it wasn’t serious. I’ve been independent and alone for most of my life. I have no idea what it’s like to… be in a real relationship, share the load and lean on someone. As much as I want to be your wife… that doesn’t mean I’m ready to be anyone’s wife. For so long, I’ve felt like I ruined every good thing that comes my way. And you’re the best thing that’s come my way in so long. I… I don’t want to mess this… or us up.” 

Michael left his fork to settle on his plate for a moment, Raven scared for a brief moment that she had ruined their night. His usual smile was a bit crestfallen, though she could tell he tried to hide it. 

“I’m sorry… that’s not what you wanted to hear, is it?” Raven’s eyes grew wide with fear. “Please tell me you aren’t, like, hiding a ring in your pocket right now? Oh my god… See?? I’m already ruining it. Fucking hopeless.”  

Michael immediately let out a barking laugh. 

“Deep breath. You ain’t gotta apologize for putting yourself first, Rae. I want to see you do that more, even with me. No ring hidin’ in my pocket, I swear. I asked cause I genuinely wanted to know, not to confirm what I wanted.” 

“So you don’t mind us basically startin’ over? And taking our time?” 

“My only plan is to love you for the rest of my life. A ring, piece of paper, where you live doesn’t change that shit for me. N’ when we’re both ready and it feels right, we build to the next step. I’m not making plans for us without you, Rae. This is our life together.” 

“Our life. Our house. You certainly know how to make a girl feel wanted, Mr. Jordan.” 

“I gotta make up for lost time,” he kissed the back of her hand and winked. “Now let’s hurry up so I can get you home and show you just how much I want you.” 

Raven felt as if her brain forced the rest of the night into fast forward as they swiftly rejected the waiter’s dessert menu offerings and requested their check. Before she knew it, they were flying home in her new blacked-out Range Rover, a gift from Michael so she could get around without stealing Allen from him all the time. 

He had originally searched for something sporty and chic, eye-catching and expensive. A more feminine take on his taste in cars. But he remembered that he wanted Raven to see this as hers and that she never cared to show off. She valued the understated, emphasized practicality. The Range Rover was perfectly her style, luxurious and elegant but never flashy. Raven balked at it at first, which did not surprise him. Despite his vocal desires to spoil her, he knew Raven still felt reluctant to accept it. Sometimes it seemed like she was leaning in but then something would always stop her. Which is why it was her car in every conceivable way but she still asked if she could “borrow” it. 

He wanted to give her the world, shower her with every ounce of affection she deserved. And luxuries, ensuring she wanted for nothing and had the very best he could offer, was how he wanted to show her that. His hand gripped hers, bringing the back of her hand to his lips for a moment. 

Raven watched Michael quietly as he drove them home, not quite understanding how a task as menial as driving made him look this sexy. The flex of his muscles, the weight of his hand on her thigh, the sweet glances and suggestive winks he threw at her every so often, his low voice rapping along to the song on his spotify. All small actions that were as thoughtless as breathing for him were her addiction. 

She was a fiend and he was her fix but their home was too far, his concentration too focused on safety to pay her restlessness much attention. Or, more likely, she pondered, he sensed the buzzing in her body that caused her to fidget, the increasing tension in the car, her silent pleas for his chaste hand to move higher up her thigh. And he did nothing because he enjoyed it. 

And as she squirmed in her seat, desperate to ease the growing ache between her legs, she decided she would demand his attention. 

Two can play the teasing game. 

Typically she would not be so brazen but the cover of night and minimal street lights gave her the perfect cover. Raven pulled enough slack in her seatbelt to give her some room to maneuver. She leaned over the console, her lips pressed into his cheek sweetly and innocently. He gave her no real reaction beyond his boyish grin, which she adored. 

Her nails dragged down his chest as she started nibbling on his ear, lower and lower she went to her prize. She easily unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his slacks, his dick already straining against the fabric. But her fingertips lingered along the waistband of his briefs, grinning to herself as his breathing hitched slightly. 

“You need somethin’, Princess?” He forced out through gritted teeth. 

“Nope. Got everything I need,” she whispered seductively in his ear as her hand wrapped around him, her hand stroking him. 

Fuck… she feared her body would never tire of this. Of him. That she would always long for him, crave him every moment of her days. That couldn’t be productive, right?

She stroked him slowly, savoring the moans he clearly wanted to suppress but couldn’t.  

“Don’t start shit you can’t finish, Rae.” 

“I think we both know I won’t have any problem finishing.” 

She released him briefly, only to lewdly spit on her hand to make it as sloppy as she could. She played with the pressure and pace, letting his increase in moans guide her instinctually. She didn’t let herself over think it. Just as he knew her, she knew him. And she knew exactly what buttons to press to get the reaction she desired. He was not the only one who knew how to work someone up.

“But fine. Your loss.”  

She pulled her hand out of his pants as his home came into view, his moans turning into a guttural groan at the loss of his release. 

Hand jobs usually were not enough for him but Rae was… different. Her taking control made him want to nut even before she touched him. 

Raven winked at him before starting to get out of the car to walk toward the garage entrance to their home. 

Normally, he would have gotten out first to open the door for her. However, today, he was paralyzed with shock for a singular second before his brain was too focused on plotting mind-numbing revenge than moving. And oh this particular revenge would be sweet. Because he knew she had done that to bring out a particular beast, one he had held back since they got back together. Practically, it was difficult to feel comfortable hanging your girlfriend naked from the ceiling with your parents sleeping down the hall. 

Which is why getting he and Raven’s new penthouse downtown setup was at the top of his to-do list. The only saving grace tonight was that the clock had already struck midnight, any potential human interruptions already fast asleep. 

As he started to get out of the car, he muttered. “Ain’t gon’ be talkin’ all that shit when I get my hands on you.” 

Raven paused, deciding one last push would ensure the rough and passionate night she desired took place. Her heels were clutched in her hand instead of on her throbbing feet. She leaned against the door as she turned to watch him walk toward her. 

Once she felt he was close enough to still give her a head start, she said, “Not if you can’t catch me,” before pushing open the door and taking off into a full sprint. She could hear the growl that escaped him as she ran around his downstairs, giggling quietly as he chased her. 

They both knew it would end in her capture. After all, a predator doesn’t typically stop until it has caught its prey. And she couldn’t win against Michael, nor did she want to. In this particular game, losing promised the untold pleasure, pain, and all the ecstasy Michael unlocked in between.

A perfect harmony that Raven’s body craved since being back in his presence. They made love, they savored each other. It was healing and loving… everything she needed. But tonight was a reminder that she also needed this: his dominance, his power, his ability to know her intimately and fulfill her every need and desire. She wanted this - the sweet surrender to the person she trusted more than anyone else in this world. 

They did a couple rounds through his kitchen and dining room, Michael getting close before backing off to let Raven escape. He knew she was working him up and he enjoyed letting her have her fun pushing his buttons. She was in rare form, teasing and daring and it just made him want her more. 

She made a dash for it into the basement, the one soundproof portion of his house. And the only spot with no exits but plenty of places to hide. 

“Ain’t your smartest move, princess. I’m gonna find you.” He called out after shutting and locking the basement behind him. “I think you’re ready to get caught? Ready for daddy to take over n’ give you what you need?” 

Raven knew her heartbeat only mimicked a roaring thunder in her own ears but with only Michael’s voice and soft footsteps filling his cavernous basement, it was all she could focus on. She would have laughed at the absurdity as she hid from her boyfriend behind his bar. But then that would give her hiding place away. 

Admittedly, her spot was fairly obvious but she didn’t care to wait for Michael to actually search his giant ass basement. She was firmly set on a one track mind: getting her man utterly feral for her. Logic stopped mattering as soon as she started this game.  

Michael kicked his shoes off, his footsteps near silent as he walked on the carpet. He stood there for a moment in the silence before he glanced over at the bar, hearing soft movement from that direction. And that was his answer. His prey was ready to surrender. All he had to do was claim his prize. 

“Baby girl… If you come out, I’ll go easy on you. But if I gotta find you first?” The whistle he let out sent chills down her spine. “You not gon’ sit for a week, promise you that.” 

Raven didn’t move. She knew he meant that threat but in her eyes, it only promised her the best night of her life. She just waited, almost legitimately frightened when he jumped out from the other side of the bar. She could’ve cum right there at the Killmonger-esque evil grin on his face as he took her in. Her favorite apex predator indeed. 

“Thought you could hide from daddy, huh? Thought you could escape? Guess I gotta remind you… I own that ass.”

Raven’s body became as light as a rag doll as he pulled her from the floor and tossed her over his shoulder in one fluid motion.  She pitifully fought against her capture, her fists barely hitting his back as she squirmed to escape him. But with his tight hold on her waist, no amount of movement would free her. Her dress bunched around her waist, exposing her thighs and ass to the frigid air conditioning. 

“Let me go!” 

“Nah princess. You asked for this shit. You wanted this shit. Now take it.” 

One reverberating crack against her ass silenced and stilled her, her flower dripping at what she knew was next. 

A trip to paradise. 

He tossed her body onto the massive sectional in his entertainment room, towering over her as he surveyed his prize. 

“Fuck you’re so beautiful. But you’ve been a bad girl, baby.” 

He slid his belt off, his slacks hanging open as he made a popping noise with the leather that caused Raven to jump slightly. 

It was too early to concede, too early to beg. But fuck, she was barely holding on. 

“I should take this and wear that ass out. Butttt judging by the look on your face, I think you’d like it too much.” 

He grabbed her ankle, dragging her body gently down the chaise toward him.  The look in his eyes made Raven want to shrivel up beneath him. How could he look at her with such lust and desire and such love?

She pushed herself up to meet his lips, his hand gripping her chin as he kissed her. Sloppy, frenzied. He was utterly in control of her but not of himself. Raven shivered with delight. These were the moments she craved the most: when he lost himself in her.  

His lips traveled to her neck, sucking on her soft skin, before he whispered, “Since you teased me, think I’ll return the favor?” 

A challenge. Raven raised a playful eyebrow before laying down. Michael chuckled and nodded to himself. 

“You got five seconds to get that shit off or I rip it off,” he warned. 

Raven knew the timer was arbitrary but she still moved with haste, tossing her dress somewhere in the dark abyss of the room.

He could see the shyness in her eyes as he stood over her, simply savoring the vision beneath him for a few moments. But how could he look away? In this moment, he was in control but she had every ounce of the power. She flooded all of his senses with love and lust and need and trust, and he was able to lose himself for a while. 

He could feel her anticipation as if it prickled the air, it made him want to move, appease. But he forced himself to just stare. Stare at the unspoken pleas dancing in her eyes, the playful defiance in her eyes that told him this would be fun for both of them. Stare at every soft curve as her body squirmed for relief. Stare at the rise and fall of her breasts as her desire reached inconceivable levels. 

He dropped to his knees, eye level with her core. She had already made a mess of her inner thighs, Michael lewdly licking his lips as he studied his dessert. She was beautiful, exquisite in fact. Her body wept for him and his touch, her hips thrusting uncontrollably into the air as an unspoken demand to appease her. 

“Such a slut. Humping the air like a dirty whore. You want daddy to make you feel better, don’t you?” 

Raven offered him nothing, her eyes filled with that defiance that told him she would not give in so easily. She wanted this, the Michael she loved that forced obedience from the depths of her soul. 

“Been goin’ too soft on you lately, huh princess?” 

She chewed on her lip as he nipped at her inner thigh to stop the pleas, she had not worked him up to give in this quickly or that easily. No, she wanted, needed, him to ruin her. To remind her who he was to her. Not just her boyfriend or the love of her life. He was her master. And she had gone too long without the reminder. 

“Didn’t think I could spoil a good girl too much but maybe you can. I shower you with love n affection n this is the shit you do? Tease me? Make me chase down what’s mine? It’s easy for brats to get impatient, forget their place… start thinkin’ they run shit. But Imma make sure you remember, princess.”  

He leaned in, his hot breath tickling her sensitive bud as he hovered there, his hands gripping her hips to force her into the couch cushions. 

“One rule. You don’t cum without my permission, understand?” 

Well, fuck. 

She knew it was coming but holding for his permission was Raven’s definition of the worst form of torture. Raven instinctively let out a groan, Michael gently slapping her inner thigh. 

“Do you fuckin’ understand?” 

“Y-Yes, daddy.” 

“Ain’t got restraints down here so I’ll say this once, run ‘n I’ll light that ass up.” 

And with that lethal warning, he dove in like an animal. His arms wrapped under her thighs, anchoring her to the couch and ensuring she could not move even if she wanted to. 

Her arm flailed for a moment in search of one of the couch’s throw pillows to muffle her moans as he feasted on her like a starving man. 

“Put that shit down.” Raven almost cursed him as her fingers released the pillow. “You wanted this shit. Lay there ‘n take it.” 

Raven’s eyes only saw the back of her skull as he slipped two fingers inside her, setting a punishing pace against her g-spot. Her hips rolled instinctively to match his thrusts. Her body demanded more, sought more. 

“Fuck… feels so good,” she moaned, all earlier grievances foolishly forgotten as pleasure took over every brain cell. She was chasing that sweet high. And she was so close… 

“You know you gotta ask daddy if you wanna cum.” He slapped the outside of her thigh to capture her attention.

FUCK. 

“Daddy, please?? she asked with sweet doe eyes she knew would not sway him. She knew the answer before she said it. No. Even as her hips bucked wildly, chasing his pleasure, she knew he would make her wait until she couldn’t any longer. 

“Nah… don’t think you’ve earned it yet.” 

And he just stopped. His fingers pulled out of her as he sat up, leaving her empty and aching as he licked his lips with a grin. Her body felt utterly short-changed and needy. The frustration in Raven’s cry was real, despite the reality that she wanted this. And she did. When he finally did let her cum, it would be earth shattering. He would literally send her to another plane of existence. But the build up? How many times he would push her to sweet oblivion’s edge and painfully steal it away? That was the torture and she had never pushed him like tonight. 

“Yea you knew I wasn’t gonna let you cum that easy.” He took his time, allowing her to suck her own juices off his fingers before he eased them inside her again. 

Raven felt herself rocking against his hand without conscious thought or direction before he could even move it himself. 

“Such a perfect whore for me. You wanna cum so bad, you’re fuckin’ yourself on my fingers. Daddy’s perfect slut.” 

Even as he tried to restrain her, her body had a mind of its own. She couldn’t stop herself. Every cell in her body was zeroed in and focused on one outcome: cumming. 

“Daddyyy…” she cried out. “P-Please… I n-need more.” 

Michael added another finger, her screams reaching a fever pitch in a minor of seconds as he fucked her with his fingers. He could tell she was too lost in it to ask for permission but he knew she was close. Every sign was there as she clenched around his fingers. So he ripped his hand away at the last second. 

“Fuck!” A strangled cry escaping her lips. 

“I know you were about to cum without permission. I should punish you for that,” he whispered in her ear, his hands soothing her tingling body to bring her back down to start over. She whimpered beneath his touch, everything starting to become too sensitive, too overstimulated. “But we’ll save that for another time.” 

He waited until she settled once again before leaning over her, deciding he wanted a taste. 

“This really is my favorite meal… really could do this shit for hours ‘n hours,” he mused. “You’d like that wouldn’t you, baby?” 

“Y-Yes, sir,” she whimpered as his tongue caressed the paradise between the flowers. 

“I know you would.” 

Flames seemed to dance along Raven’s body as he consumed her. Deliciously perfect, addictively painful, and utterly mind-numbing. And there was nothing she could do but surrender as he took his time, experimenting with every technique time and age had taught him. Before she met Michael, she never understood when people said men who like giving head were dangerous. But she knew that all too well. Michael literally could do this all night.

Raven lost track of me as he took her on a thrilling rollercoaster ride of peaks before plummeting her down with no release. After the fifth time, the longest he had ever edged her, Raven was an incoherent mess. 

All that teasing fight was gone. She needed him, needed to cum, about as much as she needed the air circulating around them to breathe. She had no desire to safe word yet, though Michael could tell he was reaching her body’s limits. 

“I-I can’t take it, let me cum. Daddy, please! Let me cum!” she cried out, tears starting to fall as her body pushed to the brink of pleasure too quickly. “I-I’ll do anything! It’s t-too much.” 

He slowed his fingers, keeping her teetering on the edge. Raven gasped, her breaths escaping in stoic pants, the words to beg not even forming any longer. 

“What’s that, baby girl? You wanna cum? You gotta beg for it. Beg daddy to finger fuck you till you squirt all over my hand like a whore.” 

She would if she could talk. But that ship sailed two stolen orgasms ago, she wanted to scream. She instinctively shied away as he started to increase the pressure again, her body scrambling to escape him. 

“What the fuck I your ass bout runnin’?” he demanded, Raven almost in tears as he abandoned his task to roughly flip her over. 

This was torture. The sweetest torture but torture nonetheless. She squealed as he rained down a rapid succession of bruising hits to her ass.

“I’m s-sorry, I’m sorry!” she cried out, her brain officially scrambled from the aching need to cum combined with the throbbing sting on her ass. 

“Who’s in charge here??” He wrapped a hand around her long hair and forced her body to his, flush against his chest. “Who owns this pussy??” He demanded as his finger returned to her clit with just enough pressure to force her orgasm to build back immediately. 

“You do… you do!” She cried. “I-I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’ll be good!” She writhed against his hold, desperate for more and less simultaneously. 

“Sorry for what??”

“T-teasing! B-Being a bad girl. I-I’m sorry, daddy. I’ll be good, j-just let me cum. Please!”  

He roughly bit her neck before increasing the pressure against her overly-sensitive bud. “Cum as hard as you want. You earned it, princess.” 

Raven gasped as her body let go of all restraint, allowing pure pleasure to crash over her in waves with his expressed permission. She went rigid against his chest as she felt everything in her explode, every pleasure sensor overloaded and surging to a level she had not believed humanly possible. He sent her tumbling into an abyss of pure bliss and ecstasy. 

Michael’s hands gently held her as she came, squirting all over the velvet cushion beneath her. Michael found himself feeling a bit of an ego boost as she went slack against his chest, his hands holding her weight. 

“Rae?” 

A soft whimper let him know she was well and satisfied but also that she was done in. 

“Mighta miscalculated this one,” he whispered to himself with a chuckle as he gently laid her down on the sofa, his member still hard as a rock and demanding to be trapped in her warmth. But her needs always came first and right now, she needed to rest. 

He grabbed a blanket that he kept nearby and draped it over the both of them, shifting her so she was laying on his chest. 

Her eyes fluttered open as she looked up at him, pressing a kiss to his chest before settling against him again. 

“If you missed our games, you just had to ask, baby.” 

She chuckled. “I know but my way was more fun. I just… like it when you lose control with me.” 

“I do too. Think we both needed it.” 

“Yea we did… been a minute.” She let out a deep yawn. “Just give me a minute and we can keep going.”

“Take your time, Rae. We pushed it a little today. I got carried away.” 

“Which was exactly what I wanted and still want. Besides, I earned a taste, baby.” Her voice was filled with a plea as if he were depriving her as she wrapped her hand around his throbbing dick.

Fuck this girl. She would be the death of him.  

“Can’t have you tappin’ out on me when I get goin’. So rest your body for a bit. Got so much more I wanna do to you, baby girl. Don’t worry.” 

Raven grinned at the menacing glint in his eye, which let her know the night had really only just begun. But he was also right that she needed to take a breather. Her body was still abuzz, the embers of the fire he created still very much aflame as her body tried to come down from the highest of highs. She acquiesced, sliding back into his arms. Michael grinned to himself as she settled deeper into his side, a soft sigh escaping her lips once she was comfortable in his warmth. 

“Fine… one hour but then I want my taste.” 

Michael laughed and pressed his lips to the top of her head. 

“Deal.”

***

Michael grinned as he stood in the doorway to his suite, expecting to find Raven up writing in bed. But nope, she was curled up, dead to the world asleep with her head buried in his pillow. Her computer was discarded on the bed beside her.

He pressed a few soft kisses to her head, his hand stroking her hair. It was still in giant movie star curls since the brunch they went to earlier that day with the cast of the movie he was going to film soon. He instantly felt bad, wishing he had come home early with her to take care of her. She made it halfway through brunch before she started to feel sick. And after a few bites of food and 20 minutes hiding in the bathroom terrified she would throw up at Ryan Coogler’s gorgeous home, she had to leave early.  

But given that she pulled Michael away from Ryan’s last get together, she insisted he stay to spend time with his coworkers and friends. She had not even taken off her makeup, she just threw her dress off and put on his t-shirt before laying down. 

“Hey babe,” she whispered, smiling at him as she rubbed her eyes. 

“Hey princess. Feelin’ better?” He pressed the back of his hand to her face. 

“Eh… I think I’m getting the flu or something. Sorry for abandoning you earlier.” 

Michael waved his hand. “I told you that man throws an event every damn week. I appreciate you sticking it out as long as you did. Were you feelin’ sick before we left?” 

Silence. 

“Rae…” 

“Lecturing a sick person is cruel, baby,” she moaned pitifully. 

“We could’ve stayed here. I don’t want you sufferin’ on my account.” 

“I know but I can’t have you missing every event on my account. And you missed Ryan’s last thing cause of me. This was important. I’m fine. I’m sure it’s just the start of the flu. Lord knows I’m overdue for it. Probs why I feel so pitiful.” 

“My poor baby. Go back to sleep so you can get some rest. Anything I can get you?” 

“No, I’m okay.” Her hand felt around the bed, clearly searching for where she discarded her cell phone. 

“Here it is,” Michael found it half under her computer, the screen brightening as he picked it up. 

2 missed calls and several texts from Melody. 

He watched as Raven’s eyes clouded with shame as she took in the notifications herself before clearing them and tossing the phone back onto the duvet. Her head gently thudded against his headboard as she closed her eyes for a few moments. 

Raven could never bring herself to do it but she wished she could block the woman. Not because she did not adore the blossoming friendship between them. But because she was praying a week would pass without a flurry of texts and calls asking her when she would come visit - or even just call - her former students. And try as she might, Raven could not force herself to answer. 

They were the final thing on her list, the one thing she continued to avoid post prostitution-fake-girlfriend-gate. She, by an act of God, had convinced Helen to remove the black stain on Tasha’s record and she was gainfully employed yet again. Whether she knew it was Raven’s doing or not, did not matter to Raven one bit. She did her part, everyone was okay again and she was at peace. She never needed to hear Tasha’s name again. 

And aside from the occasional remarks under photos of them, the internet and world didn’t seem to care anymore, further proof that people’s memories were shorter than Raven believed. She and Michael seemed to be most people’s favorite couple again, even more so now. Their scandal transformed them into a real life crossover between “Pretty Woman and Cinderella.” They were relatable and interesting, a fairytale most women could root for. It seemed silly to Raven but she would certainly take this over the hoards of people calling her a whore all day.

But in Raven’s small real world, this was one group that she still could not face. 

“You not gonna respond?” 

“Nope.” 

Michael paused, her abrupt answer taking him by surprise. 

“Thought you and Melody were cool?”

“We are. I just don’t want to talk to her.” Her answer continued to be clipped and short, a clear but rare sign that she was not interested in being interrogated by him or anyone else. 

But Michael did not need her to answer to know why she was systematically screening Melody’s calls and texts. Ever since Raven stepped back in the public eye, Melody called her multiple times a week without fail with one purpose. To convince her to return to the book club, or at least visit them. And every time Raven ignored her, and when she couldn’t, she made up a lame (her words) excuse to avoid going. 

“You don’t wanna talk to her? Or do you not want to hear her ask you to come visit a book club and see the unfinished business you’ve been avoiding?” 

“Don’t start, Michael. Chastising a person on their sick bed is also cruel.” 

“Not chastising, I promise. I just… How is it that you can mend shit with Tasha but not them? I know you. The kids at the library are the one casualty of all that shit that you actually care about.”  

These were the rarest moments when Michael’s observations and intuitiveness irked her. When she was not used to someone caring enough to push and poke at a thread until it unraveled. But Michael was always determined to do just that. He meant well and Raven adored that he cared so much. But sometimes, she wanted to avoid her problems and he would not let her.  

“Well that’s where you’re wrong. I didn’t mend shit with Tasha. I’ll be happy to never talk to her or hear about her again. I did it so we could be done with her forever. So there’s nothing she can hold over you and us again. I did what was best for Tasha and us. Meanwhile, the kids are fine. Better without me, probably. Staying away is what’s best for them.” She nodded her head as if to convince Michael and herself that her words were true, that they didn’t aggravate a wound. “The world is filled with bad influences. They don’t need another.” 

“But-” 

“Michael… stop. I said no and that’s it.” 

He raised his hand in surrender before rubbing her knee. “Sorry, baby. Didn’t mean to upset you. I just think talkin’ to her would help. That’s all.” 

“Thanks but I’m good. Summer’s right around the corner, the kids’ll forget about me before the new year rolls around. They are adaptable and I’m nobody important to them, not really. They’ll be just fine. And I’ve… I’ve made peace with that. Some unfinished business may just need to stay that way. So just let it go, please.” 

But Michael could hear the tremble in her voice, the pain it took to voice those words that he knew had lived in her mind for months. And he knew that she did not believe a single word she said to him. She just wanted him to leave her be. 

However, Raven should have known one cardinal rule about Michael. When Raven’s happiness was at stake, Michael did not know how to let anything go. 

“Okay, I won’t bring it up again,” The silent for now was only to himself as he hatched a plan. “I’m gonna run and grab some medicine. Vegas is next weekend, need you at full strength for all I have planned.” He winked at her. 

“I’ll be all better and ready for the big fight, I promise. Wouldn’t dare miss it. And you can’t miss it and I know if I’m still in this bed, you won’t go and then Alex will kill me and it's a whole thing.” 

“Don’t give a damn about Alex or that fight,” he laughed. “Hell we might not even make it to the fight. Trying to get you on another pole and fuck you on every surface in our suite, baby girl.” At her raised eyebrow, he laughed. “Except a table, I know. Table ban is still in effect. Though it’s been a minute. We coulddddddd revisit that one?” 

“That particular ban is in effect for life, unfortunately. But I would be amenable to revisiting our no food during sex ban on your birthday and Christmas.” 

They had tried introducing sensual foods into their play. And while Michael quite enjoyed the act of licking whipped cream and chocolate off Raven like she was a sundae, Raven did not find much enjoyment in being his sundae. She found that the ache of suspension ropes was somehow far more enjoyable than the stickiness of being a human plate until she could get in the shower. While the pair had a ball exploring new kinks and new fantasies as they came up, they did not always hit it out of the park. 

Thus the “Food only belongs in the kitchen” being added to their short list of hard limits. 

“Deal.” He leaned over and kissed her. Raven yawned and settled back into his pillow. “Okay go back to sleep. Gonna work in my office and I’ll come check on you in a bit.” 

She almost wanted to pout a bit, hoping that she would be able to cuddle up in his arms instead of with his pillow. 

“Stay.” 

“You know how I get when I’m preppin’, talkin’ to myself, workshoppin’ lines n shit. You should have some quiet.” 

She laughed. “I think a bulldozer could come through here and I’d sleep through it. And I like watching you work.” 

“You sure?” 

She didn’t bother answering him with words, she just slid to her side of the bed, freeing up his so he could join her. He grabbed the notes and tablet he had discarded on his bed side earlier and quickly undressed before sliding in. She snuggled into his side before drifting off to sleep. 

Michael worked diligently for about 30 minutes, waiting for Raven’s signature deep breaths and soft snores that signaled she was fast asleep. He had placed both their phones on the nightstand when he got in bed, he glanced over to her to ensure she was still asleep before grabbing hers. 

He unlocked it quickly, thankful for their previous password swap. Neither of them really used it aside from picking up the phone or responding to a text while the other was occupied. But it would be useful for his purposes. He knew Raven would not be a fan of his meddling when she found out. But he just prayed that the outcome would outweigh how they got there. He was playing with fire but this time, it was purely selfless. He just wanted Raven to be happy, truly happy. And he knew this was the last barrier to get there. 

He made quick work of copying Melody’s number into his phone before locking hers and returning it to its spot. He slid out of bed, Raven not even moving, and into his bathroom. 

It rang for a few seconds before a voice answered. 

“Hello?” 

“Hey, is this Melody?” 

“It is.” 

“This is Michael, Raven’s boyfriend?” 

“I was wondering when you’d intervene. Just the little I know about you, you seem like the type.”

Michael chuckled. “Yea I am that type.” 

“Good. That’s what she needs.” 

“You got a second?” 

“If it gets Raven down here, I have all the time in the world.” 

“Excellent…” And the pair talked for almost 30 minutes, Michael only peeking into the room to make sure Raven was still asleep. 

“Okay, sounds good. I won’t tell the kids just in case. Club usually ends between 8 and 8:15? So have her there next week a little before 8?” 

“I gotchu. Thanks… for bein’ a good friend to her.” 

“She deserves it. See you Wednesday.”

Tag list: @readinghere2023 @blackerthings @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @physicxal @purplehairgawdess @miyuhpapayuh @rueruesclues @geemamii @certifiedlesbianbaddie @pipsqueak-98 @nyifly22 @destinio1 @twocentaur @gopaperless @musicisme333 @majesticbrown @roguekiki @taurusqueen83 @mysteryuz @miamormilan @itsknor-thedeep @naj-ay444 @madsgrace4 @nayaes @kholdkill @msniaimani @nccu-rnc @apenasumlug4r @dezzy154 @munchsa

***

A/N: We BACK and the babes are better than ever! Healing, rest, love, moving forward, smut... Our loves are connecting in all the best ways. Michael's meddling - how yall think Raven's gonna react? That nigga never learns LOL

[kimuzostar]

YOU CAN'T HIDE ii

⊱ bountyhunter!terry x black fem reader ⊰ ⊱ warnings: 18+, smut, degradation kink, pregnancy scare, mention of clinic visit, slight choking, stalking aspects, slight dom!terry and more i forgot ⊰ ⊱ probably the last part for this, i don't know... writing smut scares me because i'm bad at it ⊰ enjoy

A few weeks have passed of you being on the run. The media coverage of the robbery had died down; yet you were still on edge. 

Not about the robbery but about him.

“When I catch you again, I won’t be as nice.”

 His words replayed over and over in your head. You felt them deep in your stomach, just like his di-

No, no, no. You will not allow a man to be the proprietor of your downfall. 

After he left, you gathered your things and immediately headed for the nearest bus station. You brought a ticket to Arondale, another small town about four hours away. You needed to put distance between the two of you. 

As you boarded the bus, you had an eerie feeling of being watched. You turn and see a truck. His truck. 

Its lights cut on and it rapidly sped off in the opposite direction. 

You let out a sigh of relief. 

Now you could live in peace….. or so you thought. 

You were currently bent over the toilet of your dingy motel room. The entire contents of your stomach emptied out before you. 

For the last 5 or so days, you’ve been unable to hold down any food, certain smells cause you to gag, and you’ve been over emotional about every little thing. 

The tenant next door was not being of any help as he didn’t seem to know how to lower his volume. Constantly playing loud music and talking loudly. Every time you went to complain, he would get quiet and not answer his door. 

The one time you did see him, his back was turned to you as he got in his car. You wish you would’ve saw his face so you could flip it off. 

You were trying not to think the worst, brushing it off to a persistent stomach bug. But your period was late and that wasn’t making anything more comforting. 

“There’s no fucking way!”, you whisper to yourself. 

There’s no way you could possibly be pregnant by a man you don’t even know. A man whose face you’ve never even seen. You didn’t need any of this right now. 

Gathering yourself, you pull up to look in the mirror. Your curly hair wild, eyes shadowed with bags and your plump lips were chapped. You were a mess. 

You needed a pregnancy test. There was a small market across the street. You gathered your jacket and headed out. 

-

The market was stocked; having every essential one might need. 

You grabbed a buggy. You were going to get everything you needed so if you get the worst, you wouldn’t have to come out for a while. 

As you turn down one of the aisles, you bump into someone. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t see you,” you say. 

Looking up, you see it’s your loud next door tenant. He’s wearing shades with the biggest shit eating grin on his face. A perfect set of 32s. 

“That’s no bother, just don’t do it again,” he replies. 

Already aggravated, you didn’t have the energy to play into his games. You continue along the aisle, paying him no more attention. 

Scanning the items, you finally find what you’re looking for; a clear blue pregnancy test. You grab it, biting your lower lip out of nervousness. 

Taking a step backwards, you run into what feels like a brick wall. A pair of arms surround you, the hands covering yours over the test. They lift them so the owner can take a closer look. 

“A pregnancy test. Who dis fa?”, the person says. 

You push back, turning to see who it is. 

It’s the tenant again. 

“Don’t fucking touch me and it’s none of your fucking business.”

He laughs, taking off his shades to get a better look at you. 

“I think it’s a lot of my business considering I could be a daddy.”  

Fuck, those eyes. 

It was him. The bounty hunter. 

Terry stood before you, smiling so big that his eyes disappeared. His hair was cut low, his skin bronzed by the sun. 

He was beautiful. 

You were frozen, unable to properly process what was going on. You wanted to run but your body wouldn’t move. You have many questions but your mouth wouldn’t move. 

“You look surprised. What’s wrong?”, he says jokingly. 

You finally get the push to speak. 

“You’re not the only person I’ve been with so you’re probably not the father”, you lie. 

Terry raises one of his eyebrows. “Is that so?”, he says. 

“Yes, so you can go away now”, you reply. 

“Nah, I’m curious about the results. Let's get back to your room”, he says walking towards the registers.

Your shoulders sunk. There was no way of this. 

-

Terry watched every step of you take your test; standing in the bathroom doorway like a bouncer. 

You avoided eye contact, feeling vulnerable about the current situation. 

“What does it say?”, he asks. 

“I don’t know, the instructions say there’s a 20 minute wait,” you reply. 

He sighs, looking up at the ceiling in thought. 

“What should we name it? I’m thinking Junior for a boy and Jasmi for a girl”, he says, smiling. 

You scoff. 

“You have lost your black ass mind if you think I’m having a baby with you. Plus, you don’t even know if this is your baby. The only thing I’m worried about is what clinic I need to go to”, you say. 

You peek at him through your lashes. He stood arms crossed, no longer smiling. You could cut the tension with a knife. 

“I’ve been watching you for weeks. There is no other man”, he says. 

“How did you find me? I left Springville weeks ago, it should’ve been impossible for you to find me here.”

Terry smiles, a laugh erupting deep from within his chest. 

“I never stopped following you, you’re just too fucking stupid to realize it. I followed your bus all the way here. I’ve been staying next door the whole time.”, he chuckles. 

You stood there dumbfounded. The clogs in your brain jammed and you were unable to produce a coherent thought. 

The loud music, the loud talking, the man entering the car. All him. 

“Are you actually insane? Do you not hear how ridiculous you sound? What’s not clicking?”, you say. 

Terry’s brows furrowed in genuine confusion. 

“Why are you so mad? I never told you I was going to leave you alone. I said when I catch you, not if I catch. You’re my problem until I feel you’re sorted out,” he says. “You were warned yet you still can’t hide.”

He stepped towards you. You step back and he follows you until you hit the wall. He leans down, his lips brushing your ear. You shiver at the contact. 

“Do I scare you?”, he asks, tracing a circle on your hip. 

Feigning dominance, you respond, “No, I’m not scared of you.”

You were definitely afraid of him. 

“I’m not afraid of a bubbling moron that goes around stalking people, unable to act like an adult,” you continue. 

You see Terry’s shoulders shake with a silent laugh. He pulls back, trailing the hand on your hip up to your neck. He wraps it around, squeezing slightly. You can feel your nipples harden through your shirt. 

”As long as you’re here, I won’t ever leave you alone. Deal with it”, he says. 

The statement causes you to look down at the floor. The thought of him bothering you forever was too much to bear. 

Terry lifts your chin so you can meet his eyes. You’re stuck, unable to look away; almost like you were being hypnotized. 

He kisses you, his mouth engulfing yours. His lips were so soft, citing a moan from you. His hands slide their way to your butt. He squeezes, pulling you flesh against his body. 

He picks you up, walking you over to the bed. He places you down, still not breaking the kiss. 

Your tongues fight for power, neither of you wanting to fall to the other. 

“Take these off”, he says tugging at your pants. 

You oblige, removing your shirt, pants and underwear. He does the same, allowing you to finally get a good look at his body. 

He was chiseled by the gods. His shoulders were large, coupled with a six pack and a deep v-line leading down to a hung dick. 

Terry hovers over you, settling his face in the crook of your neck to inhale your scent. His fingers begin to rub up and down your pussy, softly grazing over your clit. 

He plunges two fingers in you. He licks from your collarbone to the shell of your ear. He gives it a kiss. 

“Still as tight as last time. There’s no way somebody else been in here,” he teases in your ear. 

“Would’ve been better than you anyways,” you reply. 

Terry freezes. He pulls his fingers out of you, lifting his head up to stare in your eyes. The stoic expression is back. 

Uh oh. 

He sits back, using your hips to flip you on your stomach. His hands find your hair and he pushes your face into the mattress. He straddles you, his other hand on your back.  You can feel his dick resting on your ass. 

“I’ve been being really nice. I don’t appreciate all this back talk,” he says. 

“If you stop talking so much shit then maybe we wouldn’t have that problem,” you reply. 

Terry pushes you further into the mattress, leaning in closer to your face. 

“Apologize and mayb-“, he starts. 

“Fuck you”, you spit, cutting him off. 

With no warning, he slams into you, taking a pause so you can adjust around him. 

His grip loosens from your hair, wrapping it around to cover your mouth. He lowers the rest of his body on you, trapping you between him and the mattress. 

“You don’t know how to shut up and be a good girl. Always got that bitchy attitude. That’s ok, I can fix that”, he says with a smile. 

He begins to thrust into you, hard. The position made it feel like he was poking your lungs. 

“Can’t nobody fuck this pussy like I can.”

He would pull up, only leaving the tip; rolling his hips, before thrusting back in. He kept moving over your spot; it felt like scratching an itch slowly.

“Talking all that big shit, say something now,” he urges, removing his hand. 

All you could respond with was a moan. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t form any words. He was fucking you dumb. 

You began to pant, feeling out of breath; that familiar knot growing in your stomach. 

Terry shifts, the change of angle reaching a new dept within you. 

“Cumming,” you say with an exasperated sigh. He continued to fuck you through it, making it feel like it was going on forever. 

“That’s what I thought”, he says. 

Terry flips over to his side, taking you with him. He grabs the back of your knee, pulling it up to your ear. He slides back into you, feeling even deeper than before. 

“Ah, fuck, that feels so fucking good”, you say. 

“You are mine, this pussy is mine, all MINE. You belong to me,” he growls, planting a kiss on your knee.  

You nodded. The words sounding like music to your ears. If this was the kind of dick you’d get everyday, you thought it wouldn’t be too bad. Besides, you know he wasn’t going to leave you alone anytime soon. Especially if you had a baby on the way. 

“You will be a slut for me, whether you like it or not  

He kept slamming into, never letting up. His free hand grabs your neck, pulling you closer to his face. You felt the warmth of his breath on your skin. 

“I’m gonna cum again”, you say. 

“Let it go, wet that dick up”, he replies. 

With that, you let go, screaming to the heavens. Terry follows closely behind. You feel him tense up as he paints your walls white. 

The two of you are a mess of sweat and deep breaths. Terry pulls out of you, looking down at the art he created. He gives a playful slap to your ass cheek.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?”, he says.

You roll your eyes, getting a chuckle out of him. 

He gets up, heading to the bathroom to check on the test. 

“Oh look”, he says flashing it to you, “it’s negative”.

-

@nahimjustfeelingit-writes @skvrpion @avoidthings @jimmybutlrr @persethegawd @nayaesworld @mymindisneverhere @theereina @thabiddie23 @planetblaque @megamindsecretlair @melaninpov @madamzola @literallegendicon @blyffe