| 🧸ྀི she/her | twenty-sum (grown af) | black writer
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| 🧸ྀི this is a 18+ blog mdni !!
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| 🧸ྀི i don't just write for one specific fandom. i write for whoever i am obsessed with at the moment. suggestions of characters and scenarios are welcome through the asks but not guaranteed to be written (asks are always opened to plot and be freaky frogs together).
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| 🧸ྀི i do love a good drama filled messy fic so keep that in mind when reading my work
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𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐟.
my wattpad | him movie | stranger things | outer banks | sinners | mcu | miscellaneous
Summary: Rule #1 on Zoom, always turn your mic off!😏
After hearing Michael’s quick little moan in that video, I had to write something. Also based on this request.
“How long are these interviews supposed to take again?” You ask Michael, as you sit across from him on the couch in his office.
With the recent release of Sinners, the interviews for press were constant. Luckily for you and Michael, today was one of those rare interview days when he could do them from home in the comfort of his office.
You had the day off and you missed your man, so you opted to sit in his office while he worked. This wasn’t an unusual routine for either of you. You and Michael often worked together in his office. The simultaneous clacking of your keyboards, along with just being in each other’s presence was comforting.
Today, however, you’d have to wait for Michael to complete his interviews before you could truly spend time together. Also unfortunately, today was just one of those days when you were really horny.
It also doesn’t help that Michael is dressed in that black t-shirt that contours to every muscle on his body. He don a pair of sweatpants to keep himself comfortable during the interview.
It’s not helping the wetness between your legs because you know that he’s free balling beneath the sweatpants. You’re practically hypnotized watching his print through the pants.
“This is the last one. It’ll be about thirty minutes,” Michael responds, leaning back in the chair as he casually tosses up the fidget toy.
He subtly eyes his Naruto hoodie that adorns your frame, along with the shorts that hug your thighs. He clears his throat and adjusts himself discreetly.
The last thing he needs is to be hard during this interview.
“And then we’ll spend time together?”
Michael catches the needy look on your face, “Yeah, baby. I’m all yours once this interview is over. We can do whatever you want.”
“Okay baby!” You chirp before settling back on the couch. You slide your book over to you and lay back to start reading it. Michael eyes lock on your bare legs. He clocks the anklet dangling from your anklet with his initials on it.
For a moment, he allows himself to imagine the sight of the anklet as it dangles from his shoulder. He thinks back to a few nights when he had your legs over his shoulders as he feasted on you. He can still remember the chill from the anklet and the feel of your hands in his hair.
His phone dinging from the desk reminds him of the upcoming interview. He clicks on the interview link before sitting up in his chair. Michael turns the camera on as he waits for the interview to start.
Soon, the interview starts as Ryan, Wumni, Miles, Jayme, and Delroy also appear on the screen. Michael chuckles to himself because he can tell that they all had the same idea for keeping it casual.
“Hey everyone, it’s nice to have you all here today. Thank you so much for your time,” the interviewer greets with much enthusiasm.
Michael dons a wide smile as he waits for the interview to begin her questions. He peeks off the side to look at you, only to notice that you’ve changed positions while reading.
You now lay on your front, casually moving your feet in the air. Michael’s eyes zero in on your backside, specifically where he can see that your shorts have hiked up.
He swallows before directing his attention back to the screen.
“Question for you Michael, how would say that all of your roles before this have prepared you to play twins?”
“I would say that all of my previous roles have taught me discipline and made me lean into creativity a lot more. I think that playing twins on screen, you kind of want to tweak them to make them their own separate entities. Like with Creed, it was the first time that I had to transform my body, so I think with playing Smoke and Stack, it helped to inform my choices on how I wanted to shape my body and move around as those characters.”
The interviewer hums.
The interview continues to go on with additional questions being asked to different cast members.
It turns out that you picked the wrong book to read. You were in your romance era of reading, so you’d trusted your homegirls in your book club with their next choice of book. Your friend had mentioned that the book was spicy, but you weren’t expecting it to heat up this early.
You clench your thighs as your clit throbs from reading the steamy scene. To Michael, it looks like you’re adjusting your position, but actually, your shorts have pressed against your center and you have to control the moan from the stimulation that the fabric is giving you.
You get to a specific part where the female lead is giving a blowjob to the male lead in the bathroom. You think back to having Michael’s dick in your mouth. Your mouth waters when you think of the heavy weight against your tongue and the taste of his cum hitting your taste buds.
The idea hits your brain immediately. There might as well be a light bulb shining brightly above your head. You close the book before you can abandon the idea.
You stand from the couch before dropping to your knees. You start crawling across the floor until you reach Michael’s desk. He’s so engrossed in the interview that he doesn’t notice you until you brush against his leg. He jumps before disguising the action like he’s adjusting in the chair.
You move between his legs until you’re sitting pretty between them. With the height of the desk, it hides the fact that you’re sitting there.
Michael tenses as you move forward and lay your head on his thigh. He tries to stop your hand as you grip him through the sweats. You smile mischievously at him as you fully stick your hand in the sweats to take his dick out.
“So pretty,” you whisper to yourself.
Michael’s mushroom tip is already leaking the pearlescent liquid that contrasts against his brown skin. You spit in your hand before moving it to wrap around Michael’s length again. You move your hand up until you’re firmly grasping the tip.
Michael tries to control his breath as his pleasure starts to spike. For a few minutes, you casually jerk him off like you’re playing with a toy.
But you are. He’s your favorite toy, and fortunately for you, you are allowed to put this one in your mouth.
Michael covers up a moan with a cough as your lips fully envelope him. You pull back to lap at his tip like it’s a lollipop. You allow a large glob of spit to leave your mouth as it trails over Michael’s length. You slurp the spit back into your mouth before repeating the process.
You’re killing Michael. He tries to keep his cool as he answers questions dutifully. When he looks down again, you’re tapping his dick against your tongue while looking up at him.
“Yeah..like I was saying….um..I’m sorry, what was the question again?” Michael asks, his mind foggy with lust.
Everyone chuckles, but they’re completely oblivious to you taking the man apart under the desk. It’s at that moment that you choose to fully submerge your mouth on Michael’s dick. Your nose presses against his pubic hairs as you breathe him in.
There’s faint sounds of your throat catch on the microphone, but everyone’s professional enough not to comment. Michael still yours head as he holds you flush to him. You breathe through your nose as you relax at the feel of him in your throat.
Spit collects in your mouth and begins to leak out of sides as Michael continues answering the question. He keeps his voice calm, but wavers at the end when you swallow around him.
He turns the mic off as the interviewer asks Delroy the next question. He releases you as you move back up to breathe. A long, thin line of salive connects your lips to him.
He briefly glances down at his phone as it buzzes.
Coog
You good?
Michael
I’m straight..
Coog
So what was that noise?🙂
….Y’all nasty af man💀
You choose that exact moment to pull his balls out of the sweatpants to start mouthing at them. You suck on them as you jerk him off.
Your tongue slides up until you fully envelope him down your throat again. Michael checks the mic to ensure that it’s muted as you fully start sucking him. You hallow your cheeks and moan lowly.
He can feel the rising of his orgasm in the pitt of his stomach. He glances down at you and you’re honestly lost in your own world as you throat him. It only takes one more gag before he’s exploding into your throat.
Michael’s abs and thighs clench as pleasure radiates through his body. He feels the orgasm in his toes. He closes his eyes briefly before opening them again.
Spurts of his cum hit your tongue and the back of your throat. It makes you wetter because it’s one of your favorite treats. Michael feels like he could cry as you swish his cum around in your mouth with his length still there. You lick the remnants of his cum from him as you release him with a soft pop.
“And that was our last question. Thank you all so much for being here today. It’s truly been an honor. Congratulations on the success of the movie!”
Michael unmutes the microphone as he thanks the interviewer before he leaves the meeting.
Immediately, he slides the chair back to look at you in surprise.
You shrug your shoulders, “What? I needed something in my mouth.”
Summary: The adventures of Smoke and his wild and carefree, younger girlfriend.
Warning(s): SMUT (18+, MDNI), unprotected sex (m/f), dirty talk, use of sex toys, overstimulation, spanking, bondage, mentions of creampie, harassment, misogyny (not Smoke though).
Lovergirlnote: This came out way longer than I expected y’all lol, but honestly I was having so much fun writing it. To all my fellow young hoes, this one is for y’all. Let me know what you think!🥹♥️
From the book of young hoe: Thou shan’t wear a coat if it doesn’t match the fit.
When most people met Smoke, they automatically assumed that they knew what type of woman he would gravitate towards. When they envisioned Smoke’s significant other, they pictured a woman who was modest, quiet, and poised. What they weren’t expecting was you.
Now, no one would ever step to Smoke and openly say anything unkind about you. Not unless they wanted to be packed up like a can of sardines. Because one thing Smoke didn’t play about was you.
Smoke meets you at the gas station of all places. He notices you almost immediately. It’s really hard not to notice you in your short dress that clings to your curves like it’s painted on, or the loud clacking from your heels that are definitely a safety hazard.
Or maybe it’s the warm and sweet vanilla perfume that wafts past his nose and lingers in the aisle as you pick up snacks. Smoke assumes that you must be coming back from a night out based on how you look. Your movements are a bit sluggish, but still graceful as you pick up a bag of Hot Cheetos.
You seemingly don’t pay attention to any of the patrons inside the gas station, whose eyes follow you like bugs to a porch light. You blow large bubbles with the gum in your mouth before popping it to repeat the cycle.
Smoke hates the way that his body instantly reacts to feeling your presence behind him. Your scent overwhelms his senses like you’re imprinting yourself into every atom of his being.
He spares a glance at you once he pays for his things. He finds that you’re already staring at him with a pretty smile and mischievous eyes. You wave your pretty manicured hand at him before stepping up to the counter. Smoke chuckles lowly before waving back to you and heading outside to pump his gas.
You slide the snacks across the counter as you smile flirtatiously at the associate, “Azim, how you doing, baby?”
Azim blushes under your gaze, “I’m doing good, my darling. Was it a good night out?”
“It was amazing, my girls and I danced all night. Free drinks too,” you reply, blowing another bubble.
Azim starts bagging up your items before peeking back up at you, “I’m glad to hear you had such a good time. Anything else you need, my dear?”
“Let me get $20 on pump five.”
Azim types the amount in the register before giving you your total, “That’ll be $21.00, my love.”
You smile at him, “Azim, I know you’re undercharging me.”
Azim waves you off with a soft chuckle, “You know you’re one of my favorite customers. I have to take care of you. Family discount.”
You tap your card on the reader before smiling and blowing a kiss to Azim, “You’re the best, Azim. Let me know when your wife is making some more of that baklava, so I can come through.”
“I’ll have her make you a special batch. Come by on Sunday,” Azim calls out to you. You reply with a quick ‘thank you’ before walking out to your car. You spot Smoke standing at his car, pumping gas, along with a few other guys who are crowded around one car.
Truthfully, Smoke could’ve been done pumping his gas, but he chose to pump slower in hopes of catching you coming out of the store.
You open the door to your car to throw the snack bag on the seat before moving to start pumping your gas. It’s not lost on Smoke how cold it is outside, and you, in your tiny dress, don’t even seem to be phased by it.
In fact, you keep pumping your gas and blowing bubbles like everything is copacetic.
Unfortunately, Smoke’s not the only one who notices how pretty you look tonight. The guys surrounding the car all wolf-whistle and make noise as they catch you passing by. Smoke can see the predatory look in their eyes as they drink in your appearance.
His body immediately goes into protector mode. Feeling bold, one of the guys starts to yell out in your direction, “Aye ma! Aye ma! Lemme holla’ at you!”
You roll your eyes and keep pumping your gas. You chose to ignore the ignorant man, who clearly doesn’t have any home training.
It appears that audacity is on sale as the man yells out to you again, “Aye, girl! I know you hear me talking to you!”
Still, no response from you.
“Well, fuck you too then, you stuck up bitch!”
Smoke doesn’t know whose head snaps over quicker—his or yours. He can see the anger filling your pretty face as you finally stop chewing your gum.
“Boy, if you don’t get the fuck out of my face with them cheap ass clothes and that fake-ass Cuban link. Wanna-be-rap-ass nigga,” you yell back. Smoke and all of the other men are stunned momentarily by the ruthlessness of your words.
The wanna be who you just insulted doesn’t take the lashing well. Smoke catches the ugly expression that overtakes the man’s face as he moves around the car to start making his way to you. His homeboys have enough sense to try to stop him, but he roughly shrugs them off.
Just as he’s about to make his way to you, Smoke stands directly in his path. The older man squares his shoulders and glares down at the younger man. The height difference, combined with Smoke’s quiet disposition, creates a sense of unease in the young man’s demeanor.
“Nah, don’t get shy now. Whatchu’ was planning on doing, young buck? You thought you were about to put your hands on her?” Smoke questions, stepping up to crowd the boy’s space.
The man in question opens his mouth to start stuttering. Smoke frowns, “Nah, don’t start stuttering on me now, boy. Tell me whatchu’ was planning. You wanna act bad in front of your boys, so let’s talk man to man. You wanna press her? Nah, you press me now, nigga.”
The man swallows harshly as Smoke can see the tremors racking through his body as he finally starts to recognize Smoke.
He holds his hands up, “S-Smoke, I ain’t meant nothin’ by it, man.”
“You ain’t mean nothing by it? Seems like you had your mind set before I stepped in front of you. You wanted to be a man when you were about to put your hands on her, but you ain’t a man now that I’m in front of you.” Smoke steps forward so the only thing that the young man can feel is his presence.
He lowers his voice, “You listen to me, and I want you to listen real good because I don’t repeat myself. You ever talk to a woman like that or approach her like that again, ima beat yo’ ass as yo daddy should’ve. If I see you planning on pressin’ another woman, I’ll break every bone in your fuckin’ body and have you sippin’ on yogurt for the rest of your life. Don’t get yourself put on a t-shirt, boy. I’m sure Ms. Coretta ain’t prepared to put you in a casket. We clear?”
The young man is now openly shaking as he sees the darkness in Smoke’s eyes. It’s like he’s looking at something inhuman. He nods his head, “Yes.”
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, sir, Mr. Smoke,” He responds, fear lacing the edge of his tone.
Smoke nods, “Now, I believe you owe her an apology.”
The boy looks in your direction, “I’m sorry, Miss. It won’t happen again.”
Smoke looks at him again, “Now, get the fuck out of here.” The young man scurries away with his homeboys in tow. Anyone in town knows that the Smokestack twins are the last men that you want to have beef with.
Smoke turns to you before walking over. You blow a bubble before popping it, “Thank you, you didn’t have to do that.”
Smoke smirks, “Yes, I did. What were you planning on doing if I hadn’t stepped in or been around?”
You shrug, “I was planning on getting him with this bear mace.”
Smoke lifts his eyebrows, “You know that’s illegal.”
You blow another bubble. Pop! “So is harassment, but these niggas act like the First Amendment entitles them to a response from me.” Smoke chuckles in response.
You look at him, “So it’s Smoke, I reckon?”
He nods, “S’just a nickname. My real name is Elijah.” You hum while still chewing on your gum. You’d vaguely heard of the Smokestack twins. Anybody this side of the Delta had heard about the two men, but you rarely paid attention when people would go into detail about them.
You only cared for gossip when it was something that intrigued you. Two men who put fear in the hearts of men in the South didn’t intrigue you. Yet, with Smoke standing in front of you, smelling like a grown man, you were now thoroughly intrigued. It didn’t help the fact that he was fine in a way that gave 90s.
Smoke catches your hand on the gas pump, “Let me finish pumping your gas for you. It’s freezing out here.”
You step to the side and let Smoke take over. Who were you to deny the services of a man being courteous to you? Smoke takes a moment to look at you up close.
You smile before leaning on your car, “You wanted to pump my gas so you could stare at me?”
“M’just wondering where your jacket is,” Smoke comments.
“At home, it didn’t go with my outfit,” you respond as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
“So catching pneumonia in the ass is worth the fit?”
“Yep, you haven’t ever heard the saying ‘fashion is sacrifice’?”
Smoke chuckles, “Can’t say I have. Now, would you pretty please go sit in the car while I finish pumping your gas?”
You roll your eyes before smacking your glossed lips, “Fine, since you’re so worried that I’ll turn into a popsicle.” You open your door before sliding into the seat. From his view, Smoke can see you typing on your phone. He finishes pumping your gas and places the gas pump back on the handle.
He closes the cap as you turn on your car. You roll down the window just as Smoke steps closer to lean down. You flash another pretty smile at him, “Thank you again for your help, Mr. Smoke.”
“Just Smoke for you, sugar. Or Elijah. Whichever you prefer.”
“Hmm..I guess I’ll call you, Elijah, then,” You said, still chewing on your gum. There’s a beat of silence that’s filled with your soft chewing and music from your radio.
You lean closer to him, “Are you going to ask for my number now?”
“You know I’m too old for you, right?”
You blow another big bubble and pop it, “So? I like my men a little seasoned. Just hand me your phone.” Smoke slides his phone from his pocket and unlocks it. You start typing your number in before calling yourself. You save his contact and slide his phone back into his hand.
“Do you always give your number away at the gas station?” Smoke questions.
“I give my fake number out all the time. You should feel lucky that you have my real number,” You respond, flashing another cute smile at him. Smoke admires the way that the light dances across your skin and the faint glitter that he assumes is from some lotion.
“Consider me honored. Drive safely and let me know when you make it home,” Smoke states, looking you straight in the eye.
You smack your lips, “You checking for me already, old man?”
“I’d just feel a lot better knowing that you got home safely.”
“I’ll text you then, Elijah.” With that, you smile before rolling your window up. You drive out of the parking lot with Smoke watching your car.
He enters his own car and sets off to go home.
Later in the night, when he makes it home and showers, he’s lying in bed, and he hates to admit that he’s waiting for the text from you. Finally, his phone vibrates in his hand, and he sees your name appear on the screen.
You
*image attached*
I made it home safely
Smoke eyes the picture for far longer than he’ll ever admit. His gaze scans across your baby blue pajamas and the matching bonnet. A cute smile graces your lips as you snap the picture.
Elijah
Let me take you out tomorrow for brunch.
You
Straight to the point, I like you.
I guess I can clear some time in my very busy schedule for you😉
Elijah
I promise it’ll be worth it.
You
It better be. I’m not afraid to leave you at the table by yourself.
From that moment, you became Smoke’s old lady, and everybody knew not to cross you unless they wanted him on their necks.
From the book of young hoe: Thou shalt take the clothes from the dryer and put it in a pile; you’ll get to it later
The age difference between you and Smoke takes a little bit to get used to on both of your ends, but honestly, it’s not that big of a deal. In fact, you keep Smoke on his toes every day that you’re together. It’s within the second month of your relationship that he learns that you’re a “young ho” as you had so affectionately put it.
“Why you calling yourself a hoe?” He asked, a frown covering his handsome face.
You roll your eyes, “It’s not like that, Elijah. It’s more of a reclamation of a word for a positive cause.”
“What I tell you about rolling your eyes?”
You resisted the urge to do it again. The last time that you’d rolled your eyes at Smoke, he’d turnt you every way but loose in the bedroom.
He chose not to elaborate on your new self-proclaimed title. He learned very early in your relationship that you were a real stubborn brat when you wanted to be. He liked to play the part of annoyed, but inwardly, he loved how much you tested his patience.
Smoke was one of those guys who had a real strict program, and that program was applied to you, but he often let you off scot free most of the time. Stack would even fuss at him because of how spoiled Smoke had you.
The next day, Stack and Smoke are sitting at the kitchen table together while you’re vacuuming in the living room. You cut the vacuum off, and Smoke expects you to walk up to the wall to take the cord out.
But you don’t. Because young hoes don’t do that. Instead, you grip the cord and rip it out of the socket before dragging the piece over to you.
Smoke and Stack both watch you.
“Aye, why didn’t you just go pull it out?” Stack asks.
You smack your lips, “Why would I make all of those unnecessary steps when I can just do it my way?” You wrap the cord up and hook it onto the vacuum before leaving the living room.
Stack turns to Smoke, “You would end up with a young hoe.”
“So you know about it too?”
“Yeah, it’s this new thing on Twitter and TikTok. Girls talking about stuff that young hoes typically do. Her ripping that cord out of the wall was a prime example.”
Smoke does typically watch you. It’s a habit, really, but now, he watches you closer for your young hoe habits.
He comes over to your house on a Sunday and finds that you’re finishing up your laundry. You grab the warm clothes from the dryer in one big swoop and deposit them on the chair in the corner of your room. Smoke watches as you walk away without folding the clothes.
“Baby, you just gone leave them right there?” He questions, looking between you and the pile.
“Yes, Papa Bear, I’ll fold them later,” you respond. He wants to give you the benefit of the doubt and trust that you’ll fold them, but he has to keep an eye on you.
Turns out, he should’ve let the doubt win.
When he comes back over the following day, the clothes are still sitting in the chair. Wordlessly, he goes over to the pile to start folding the clothes into neat sections for you. He even goes the extra mile to place them in their appropriate places.
You give him a surprised look when you come into the room, “Aww, Papa Bear, you didn’t have to do that.” You press a big kiss against his lips, your lip gloss staining his lips, but quite frankly, he loves the sensation.
“You’re welcome, baby.”
Smoke is able to catch more of your young hoe antics when it comes to clothing. You volunteer to put his clothes in the washer because you love taking care of your old man.
To his honest defense, Smoke believed that you could handle the task, and truthfully, you could, but just in your own way. He stands up from the couch to go grab a water from the fridge. Once inside the kitchen, he catches sight of you in the laundry room with his dirty basket of clothes.
Now, Smoke is a man of habit. There’s a precise way that he likes to have things done. Which is why he’s honestly gobsmacked when he watches you load the clothes into the washer without separating any of them by color.
To top it off, you grab his expensive laundry detergent and pour way more than what’s required into the washing machine. You turn the machine on, step back with your hands on your hips, and have the nerve to look proud.
You turn and catch sight of him staring at you in the kitchen. He fixes his mouth to comment, but chooses not to when he sees the bright smile on your face.
You point at the washer, “Look, I got you all fixed up.”
Smoke can’t find it in his heart to take this moment from you, so he just smiles in response before walking over to press a long kiss against your lips.
“Thank you, baby.”
Now, Smoke is old, but he didn’t think he was that old. But by the way that you’re looking at him and the ironing board, the nigga starts to feel like Morgan Freeman.
“You don’t know what an ironing board is?”
“Nigga, I’m not daft, I know what an ironing board is. I’m just trying to figure out why you would need one. Just iron on the bed.”
Smoke cuts his eyes in your direction, “No, the creases won’t hit the same.”
“Anyways. So what do you need this disinfectant spray for?” You ask, holding up the white bottle.
“Baby, that’s starch.”
You frown and turn the bottle in your direction before reading it. You try to hide the embarrassed look that crosses your face before you hand the bottle back to him. You walk over to the ironing board that is still folded and fumble with it.
You look genuinely perplexed by the fact that it won’t stand up. Anyone else would be annoyed, but Smoke finds it cute. You look at him with that whiny pout on your face, “Your ironing board is broken. Probably because it’s from the 90s.”
Smoke chuckles before taking the ironing board from your hand and standing it up correctly. You look at each other in silence before you nod, “I got it loosened up for you. You’re welcome.”
With that, you walk out of the room, and Smoke figures it’s best to just let you have the win.
Besides, his baby girl gets whatever she wants when she’s with him.
From the book of young hoe: Thou shalt use Apple Pay for literally every expense. We don’t use physical cards or cash anymore.
Smoke is old school.
He still carries around a wallet of cash and his debit cards. He only sets up Apple Pay on his phone because you insisted that it was more convenient.
It is, but he won’t admit that to you. For you, you never have to pay for things when you’re with Smoke. In fact, he finds the audacity of you paying for anything outrageous. On the small chance that he isn’t there with you, he makes sure that you have the funds available for your needs.
When he tries to hand you his card, you genuinely look perplexed, “What’s this for?”
He squints, “For you to buy your stuff. No limit.”
“That’s cute, Papa Bear, but I don’t even carry my own card around. I use Apple Pay for everything,” You said.
“Just add my card to your Apple Pay, then baby,” Smoke orders, sliding the card in your hands.
“Okay, thanks, baby,” you said, kissing his lips a few times. In response, Smoke slides your body into his lap and watches as you type the card into your Apple Pay and save it.
This isn’t the only incident involving money with you and Smoke. You’re about to head out for a night with your girls when he stops you.
“Come here before you leave, baby,” He demands from the couch. He and Stack are watching the finals while you go out.
“Sup ugly,” You state, slapping Stack on the neck. He frowns and twists around to pop you back when you step out of the way.
Y’all are about to engage in another childish fight until Smoke glares at you both. Stack smacks his lips, “You better get yo girl before we be outside tussling.”
“Ima mace you too,” You quip, as you walk to Smoke’s side of the couch.
“See, I don’t even wanna play with you because I know you’re serious,” Stack states before turning his attention back to the TV.
Smoke runs his eyes up and down your body in the two-piece set. Your body shines from your rigorous body care routine. He grips your waist, “You look good, babygirl.”
“Thank you, Papa Bear,” you respond, leaning down to kiss him. From behind him, Stack makes gagging noises while you stick your finger up at him.
As you pull away from the kiss, Smoke grabs a couple of bills from his wallet and slides them over to you.
“Uh, I don’t need this,” You said, a faint whine at the end of your tone.
“Yes, you do. Your little Apple Pay can’t cover everything. What if your phone dies? You need to be prepared just in case. Here. Take a few quarters, you might need to call me from a pay phone,” Smoke explains.
All of the argument leaves your body because he’s right and you know it. You slide the bills and change in your purse before leaning down to press your lips against his again. This time, however, you slide your tongue inside of Smoke’s mouth while his hand goes to your neck.
“Man! Y’all gone with all of that,” Stack yells from his end of the couch.
You and Smoke part with a few additional pecks. A honk from outside lets you know that your friends are here. As you go to leave, you peck Smoke’s lips again, “I love you, Papa Bear. I’ll text you updates throughout the night.”
You start walking towards the door until Smoke clears his throat, “Grab that coat on the way out, babygirl.”
You huff and throw your head back, “Elijah..it doesn’t go with my outfit!”
He gives you a hard look, and you stare back. For a solid minute, you both keep the staring contest going as Stack moves his head back and forth between the two of you.
Smoke goes to stand when you hold your hands up, “Chill! Chill! I’m getting it.” You grab the jacket and hold it up as if to say, “See.”
In return, Smoke smiles at you, “Good girl. I love you too. Make sure that you text me.”
Stack laughs, “Aha…my brother got you in check.” He turns and feels like he has the last word. He doesn’t catch you creeping up behind him until you lean down to whisper, “stupid hoe” in his ear and slap the back of his neck again. You’re already out the door by the time that Stack gets off the couch.
He frowns and crosses his arms.
Smoke takes a sip from his drink, “Y’all are some children.”
Later in the night, Smoke periodically gets updates from you about your location and condition. You send him tipsy pictures from the club bathroom. It’s not too long before he gets a notification from your Instagram saying that you’ve posted to your stories.
Smoke chuckles at the picture, but he’s glad to see that you’re having a good time with your girls. Some people assumed that since you liked to go outside, it would be a turn-off for Smoke, but it was quite the opposite.
He liked the fact that you were young, carefree, and enjoying your life. He’d never try to nag or change who you were. In fact, being with you taught Smoke that he needed to let loose a lot more and enjoy the moment.
Hours later, he hears the sound of a car door closing and watches from the porch as you walk back to the house. You pout pathetically upon seeing him, “My feet hurt. Can you carry me, Papa Bear?”
Without hassle, Smoke scoops you up into his arms and carries you into the house. He waves at your friends as he closes the door. Your head lolls to the side as you lie on his shoulder.
Smoke looks down at you, “You still with me, baby?”
“Mhmm.”
He raises an eyebrow, “So you gonna carry me up these stairs?”
“Yeah, I got you, baby,” you grumble back. Smoke laughs to himself at your antics. Even in your tipsy state, you still swore up and down that you were the Incredible Hulk.
Arriving inside the bedroom, Smoke gently sets you down while grabbing a big t-shirt for you.
He helps you with getting out of the heels and your set. “Lift your arms for me, baby.”
You oblige as he slips his t-shirt over your head. He goes to the bathroom to grab some micellar water to help you remove your makeup.
You grumble in sleepiness.
“I know, baby, just a little bit more,” He coos to you gently. Once he’s finished cleaning your face, he tucks you away under the blankets. He slips your bonnet over your hair.
“It’s hot,” you whine from beneath the covers. Smoke walks over to the fan, flicks it on, and turns it in your direction. He’d never heard of someone sleeping with a fan on until he started dating you.
He slips beneath the covers and pulls your body into his side. You cuddle your body more into his hold, “Thank you, Papa Bear. I love you.”
“I love you too, babygirl,” Smoke replies, pressing a kiss to your temple.
As he listens to your steady breath, Smoke rationalizes that there’s nothing better than being here with you.
If Stack were here, he’d clown him real bad, but Smoke doesn’t care. He’d gladly go out and get your name tatted to show how down bad he is for you.
From the book of young hoe: Thou shalt play the music about the guns and drugs, but shalt not participate in said activities
Smoke watches you in amusement as you pretend to shimmy in the living room, as “Off the Leash” by Gucci Mane blasts through the space. When he first met you, he’d assumed that you would like a lot of lover girl music, which you did.
But more often than not, you were listening to music about drugs and guns, even though you were hands down a law-abiding citizen. The song changes to “All There” by Jeezy, and you start hyping yourself up more.
You walk over to Smoke and start rapping the lyrics in his face, while grabbing money from his wallet to spread it down your arm.
“So you’re a dope boy now?” Smoke asks, subtly nodding his head along to the music.
“I’ve been trappin’ out here, Smoke,” You respond. He raises his eyebrows at the change of name, but continues chuckling as you make gun gestures with your hands.
“So that means I should go get you a gun of your own now?”
You ball your face up, “No, thank you. You know I don’t like guns. Plus, I’d just be a menace if these niggas tried me.” You prove your point by making gun noises like you’re shooting
You really weren’t a big fan of guns. Even with the gun that Smoke kept in his house, you always made sure that he had it locked away, far from your sight. You didn’t even like the idea of him being near a gun, and he was a whole trained veteran.
You take your phone out and start typing. You glance back at him, “I have a hair appointment tomorrow, so I may be MIA for a while.”
He nods, “Okay, I’ll send you the money to cover it.”
You lean down to press a kiss against his cheeks, “Thanks, Papa Bear.”
When you mentioned getting your hair done to Smoke, he doesn’t expect you to be gone for that long. He checks your location, which states that you’re still at your braider’s house.
His phone buzzes with a text from you.
Babygirl♥️
Be home soon.
I can’t wait for you to see my braids🙂↔️
He lets out a sigh of relief at the message. One thing that was always true, Smoke could be a bit overprotective, but it was only because he knew how the world operated. He knew how cruel people could be, especially to someone like you.
You were smart and observant, but Smoke just preferred to be around to look out for you. In his mind, you were all bubble gum, sunshine, and sweetness. He’d hate to see someone trying to snuff that light out of you.
Thirty minutes later, Smoke hears your car pulling into the yard. You get out, casually sipping on your Stanley Cup and walking to the house.
He opens the door to greet you. You connect your lips to his while gripping his shirt, “Hey, Papa Bear. I hope you weren’t waiting up for me.”
“I was,” Smoke said, closing the door behind you.
He goes to sit on the couch and crosses his arms, “What took you so long?”
You resist the urge to roll your eyes, “It was mostly the braid length. You know I like to get my braids long.” You do a quick turn to show the braids off, and Smoke’s gaze travels down to how long they are. The braids’ length ends just below your butt.
You turn back to him with a wide smile, “Do you like them?”
“Yeah, babygirl, I love them. You look beautiful as always.” He means it. There’s not one moment when Smoke isn’t thinking about how beautiful you are.
Later in the night, he oils your scalp at bedtime. In return, you apply a clay mask to his face as he waits for it to dry.
Quite honestly, Smoke had never been well-versed in skincare. That just wasn’t his thing. Now, he kept himself up and always kept his skin moisturized, but stuff like skincare was more up Stack’s alley.
Since dating you, Smoke has a whole skincare routine that you and he do every night. He’s always had pretty good skin, but since being with you, you've elevated his skin to a new level. You both stand side-by-side at the sink, washing the masks from your faces. Smoke scoops you up to sit on the counter and grips your backside in his hand as you apply his serums and moisturizer for the night.
You peek up at him through your lashes, “You so handsome, Papa Bear.”
You grab his chin in your hand and pull his face down towards yours. Smoke’s lips engulf yours in a passionate kiss as he tongues you down. He slides your body closer to his as he fully steps between your legs. You roll your hips into his as his bulge presses against your wet core. When he steps back slightly, you whine in response while pouting. Smoke chuckles darkly before gripping your thighs to pull you off the counter. He effortlessly carries you from the bathroom to the bedroom and deposits you on the bed.
He leans down on the bed to cover your body with his. He grabs both of your wrists in his hands and pins you to the top of the bed. He frowns when he moves one of his hands and hears a crinkle. Smoke looks up and grabs the item. A bag of Hot Cheetos crunches in his hands.
He looks down at you while you give him an innocent grin. It’s only when he looks up that he notices all of the extra items in the bed like candy, your iPad, both of your chargers, and your Stanley.
He’s about to open his mouth to comment when you stop him, “Before you start with all of that, I need this. These are my essentials. Don’t be trynna reach across me to eat my snacks either.”
He gives you a blank look, “I’m trynna eat you now, but if you want to keep the snacks on the bed…”
You move quickly to put the snacks and other items on the nightstand.
You open your legs with a soft smile, “Okay, I’m ready.”
The only thing Smoke can do is chuckle, but he still gets on his knees regardless. His back may protest, but he’ll never give up the chance to put his mouth on you.
From the book of young hoe: Thou shalt not take any BS.
It didn’t take Smoke a long time to figure out that you were a bit of a hot head. In your honest defense, you just weren’t the type to hold your tongue, especially when something felt like disrespect. Which is why he often found it amusing when you and Stack would argue because you’d match his brother bar for bar with insults.
However, it was all love between you and Stack. You were the younger sister he always craved having, so he’s delighted to have you around more often.
As Smoke’s old lady, as he likes to refer to you as, your invitation to any family functions is automatically secured. You knew your spot was secured when all of Smoke’s aunts and uncles hit him with the famous, “That’s you, nephew?”
You stood in the kitchen with Ardelia, Smoke, and Stack’s mother as you both conversed.
“I’m so happy that you could come today, and you look so pretty,” Ardelia said, nodding her head in appreciation.
“Thank you, Mrs. Moore,” You said, grinning widely.
“Ah, now what I tell you about that. None of that, you can call me mama.”
You smiled even brighter at her comment. Ardelia had been nothing but welcoming to you since Smoke introduced you for the first time. You were nervous that she wouldn’t be accepting of you, especially with the age gap, but she referred to you as her daughter-in-law all over town. Now, a few of Smoke’s other family members weren’t as accepting of you, but they wouldn’t ever say it aloud. But you were well aware of the whispered comments.
‘He’s bringing that lil’ girl all up in here. She still got milk behind her ears.’
“He outta be ashamed. Bringing her around here when he could be back with Annie.’
‘Look at her outfit. Any shorter and them shorts will be some panties.’
’I heard she just with him for the money. Jill from down the street said she got a pattern of jumping from man to man and using them for money.’
‘Lord, that’s a shame!”
You rolled your eyes and took it on the chin. The last thing you were about to do was start an argument with Smoke’s folks, especially in his mama’s house. You knew how a lot of people viewed you, especially with how you carried yourself. There’d been rumors all over the place that you were a relationship hopper, which was far from the truth. You just weren’t the type to stick around in a relationship, especially if it didn’t serve you.
Growing up as a little black girl in the South, you recognized that many black girls weren’t taught how to date. Most girls here felt that if they dated someone, they had to tie themselves down to the person forever. It was often frowned upon if you were dating more than one person or exploring your options.
No, exploring your options was only something that was reserved for men.
The fact that you weren’t the type to stick around in dead situations or entertain men made you stick out like a sore thumb in the community. They couldn’t stand to see a black woman standing strong in her boundaries. They would never catch you apologizing for that.
You walk outside and sit next to Smoke, who is surrounded by a few of his uncles and cousins. It’s at that point in the evening when the conversations shift to more controversial topics, and the new school vs old school duke it out.
You were already rolling your eyes as Marvin, one of Smoke’s cousins, opened his mouth to speak. He was the physical embodiment of red pill alpha male content.
“I’m just saying, I wouldn’t want my Queen out here degrading herself on these apps by posting seductive pictures and doing OnlyFans. I mean, look at the state of female rap, all they talk about is their pussy and what they can get from men.”
A few of the older traditional men hum in agreement.
You frown, “Well, isn’t that a bit contradictory, Marvin? Men rap about pussy all the time. There isn’t one rap song that you can give me that doesn’t consist of some line of a man talking about all of the women that he’s slept with or the degrading acts that he makes her perform. To add onto your point, you’re complaining about the women making content, but you fail to realize that there wouldn’t be a market if men weren’t paying for it. Sounds like smart business women capitalizing on a rising market.”
Marvin cuts his eyes at you. You can see the irritation rising in his eyes, “See, I’d expect you to say that. You’re one of those new school women. You don’t have traditional values. A real woman knows her place in the home. She should be preparing the home for her King to come home to. She shouldn’t be out here selling pussy.” He glances over in Smoke’s direction, “Dang, cuz, you really switched things up with this one. At least Annie was taking care of her man.”
Marvin sits back in the chair, clearly pleased with himself. Beside you, Smoke hardens, and everyone can catch that look of murder in his eye. He’s about to address the situation when you place a hand on his chest.
“It’s okay, baby, I got it. Marvin, I don’t take pseudo-intellectual men like you seriously. You be the same niggas hollering about being an Alpha male and you ain’t even graduated from community college. Last time I looked in the mirror, my breasts and vagina were still there, so I think we got the real woman part covered. You keep trying to take jabs at me about being a low-value woman when, last time I checked, I got two degrees under my name, and I’m well on my way to my third. Let’s not forget the high-paying job, and I own my house. We can go band for band if you want to.”
You pause and snap your fingers, “I forgot, you don’t have a job, so your bands wouldn’t even match mine. What’s your occupation again? Wait…you’re still building your little YouTube with the ten subscribers, all of whom are your homeboys who can’t keep your dick out of their mouths. You keep talking about pussy, but baby boy, you wake up every day and look at a pussy in the mirror.”
You sit back in your chair with a demure smile. The backyard is silent as everyone turns to look at Marvin. He storms from the chair and walks towards the door. You all listen as his car pulls out of the driveway.
“I like this one, nephew,” Tony, Smoke’s uncle, comments as he clinks his cup with yours.
Smoke looks over at you in concern, “Baby, you good?”
“Yeah, ain’t nobody stressin’ over Marvin. I know my worth, and I know what I bring to the table. I’m not about to let anyone feel like they pressin’ me.”
“Good, but I’ma still beat his ass later on for talking to you like that,” Smoke states, pressing a kiss to the side of your head.
“Thanks, Papa Bear.” You lean over to press your lips against his. You resist the urge to deepen the kiss because you still have to be respectful in front of his family.
“Anytime, baby, you know you mean the world to me. Nobody in this world is ever gonna disrespect you while I’m around.”
Before you can comment, Stack leans over to dap you up, “That last line was a bar. Let’s go put that down in the studio.”
From the book of women: Always show respect where respect is due.
Annie Boudreaux. Formely Annie Moore.
You’d met Annie in passing a few times, and you liked her well enough. You both got along, seeing as you were both important women in Smoke’s life. To others, they wondered if it bothered you that Smoke’s ex-wife still came around to family functions, but truthfully, it didn’t.
You understood how important Annie was to Smoke and their shared history. It’d be selfish if you asked him to stay away from her. That didn’t mean that Smoke was taking advantage of the situation and disrespecting you. He’d always be open and let you know that he was going to see Annie. You’d always kiss him and bid him on his way.
Today was the first time that you’ve ever set foot in Annie’s yard.
You walk slowly towards the side of the house where baby Anais Moore’s headstone sits. You note the fresh flowers sitting at the headstone, no doubt from Smoke’s earlier visit in the week. You set down your own bouquet before willing away the tears that follow.
Smoke talks about his and Annie’s little girl from time to time, but only when the moon shines low in the room, and you can’t see his tears falling. He’d laid his head on your chest and whispered all about his daughter, while you remained silent and rubbed at his head.
“She was so beautiful and tiny. I was scared of holding her the first time,” He laments.
Your heart clenches painfully in your chest. You wish that you could take away all of the pain, but you know that nothing ever quite soothes the ache of losing a child.
“I wasn’t expecting to see you here today,” Annie comments from her place on the steps. You catch her eyes as they clock the flowers that you placed at the baby’s grave.
“I wanted to come visit you, and I needed to ask for your help with something.”
Annie gives you a long look before ushering you inside the house. She pours you a glass of tea as you sit across from each other on the couch.
“So what brings you by?” Annie questions.
“Can you teach me how to make that gumbo dish that Elijah likes. He mentioned that it’s one of his favorite meals, and I wanted to do something nice for him,” You said, nerves coloring your voice.
Your wide eyes meet Annie’s, and you’re honestly scared that she’ll tell you no. Instead, she chuckles, “You came all this way to ask me how to make a pot of gumbo for Elijah? Come on, silly girl. You must really be in love.”
“I am.”
For another beat, you both look at each other, and Annie runs her eyes across you. Unbeknownst to you, she can see the pink swirls radiating around your body with all of the love that you have for Elijah.
She gestures for you to follow her to the kitchen, where she begins taking out all of the ingredients. She turns to you, “Go pick me some of those bell peppers from the garden.”
You nod before setting out to the garden, where Annie has an assortment of fruit and vegetables. You navigate towards the bell peppers as you pick out the best ones. Inside the house, you hand the peppers to Annie as she washes them off.
“I love your garden. I always wanted to grow one,” You said, leaning against the counter.
“Tell Elijah. He’s good at starting a garden,” Annie responds. She ushers you forward as she grabs the flour and cast-iron skillet.
“Now the roux is the most essential part of the gumbo. You mess up the roux, you might as well throw the whole pot away.”
Together, you and Annie work hand in hand to craft the gumbo the way that Smoke likes it. Annie lets you take over for the most part, while she gently guides you. Soon, you’re both sitting at the table sharing a bowl of gumbo over rice and laughing like old friends.
“Next thing I know, Stack is running out of the house. Yellin’ about some voodoo,” Annie states, to which you laugh loudly.
Your laugh calms after a few minutes when you catch Annie staring at you.
“Thank you,” She states.
She doesn’t have to explain what she’s thanking you for. You already know. You slide a hand across the table as you tangle your fingers together.
“I really appreciate you, Annie.”
“Likewise.”
She doesn’t mention that she can read your palms with your hands touching like this. She chuckles internally. She hopes that you’re ready for some twins in the future.
When Smoke gets home later in the day, he’s surprised at the familiar scent that wafts across his nose. For a minute, he wonders if Annie is inside the house with you. He walks inside the kitchen and takes note of you standing in front of the stove, stirring away at a familiar pot.
You and Smoke are so in tune with each other that you sense him as soon as he enters the house. You turn around, “Hey, Papa Bear, take a seat.”
Smoke sets his work bag down and takes a seat at the table. You fix his bowl of gumbo just the way that Annie mentioned he likes, along with a piece of cornbread on the side and a glass of tea. He takes a second to look between you and the bowl of gumbo. He notes the similarities in the gumbo, “You makin’ gumbo now, babygirl?”
“Mhmm..I had a little help from Annie today. I wanted to get it just the way that you like it,” You said, moving to fix your own bowl.
“You visited Annie today?”
“Yeah, you mentioned that her gumbo was always your favorite, so I went by to ask her how to make it for you.” You shrug at the end of your sentence like it’s no big deal, but to Smoke, it means the world.
Before you can take a bite of your gumbo, he grabs your hand in his.
“Thank you. You know I love you, right?” He said, eyes glistening under the light. It means a lot that you went out of your way to ask Annie how to make his favorite meal.
“I love you, too, Elijah,” You respond before connecting your lips to his.
As you both eat, Smoke eyes your empty ring finger and figures that he may need to change that pretty soon.
After the meal, Smoke offers to wash dishes, but you shoo him away.
“Just sit down, you’ve been working hard all day. It’s just a few dishes,” You said, turning the water on.
Smoke expects you to plug the sink and let it fill up with soap and water, but you do the exact opposite. You keep the water running as you wash each dish one by one under the hot water.
“Baby, you could’ve just filled the sink up,” Smoke comments.
“Ew, I don’t want all of that food touching my hands,” You shoot back.
Smoke decides to drop it and continues watching you wash the dishes. He already knows that he should expect the water bill to be higher this month. From the looks of the empty paper towel roll, he might have to just invest in the big pack from Costco.
From the book of young hoe: Always listen to Papa Bear.
It’s one of those nights when you and your girls are going out again. Smoke opts to stay in, but he’s already made sure that your purse is packed with all of the essentials. He knows how forgetful you can be.
The sound of your heels clicking brings his attention to you as you walk into the bedroom. He hadn’t paid much attention to your outfit. You always did your makeup first before putting on your outfit, and then you’d give him a little show before leaving.
Now, Smoke’s gotten used to some of your more risque clothing choices. Shoot, when he first met you, you were wearing a dress that had him drooling. He isn’t one of those guys who likes to police his woman on what she’s wearing, but he is very possessive of you. Smoke knows that you’re a baddie, so why would he stop you from being that?
However, he has to draw a line with this outfit, if you can even call it that.
Smoke coughs past the smoke and snuffs out the joint that you rolled for him. “What you got on?”
You smile at him through the mirror, “It’s cute, right? I found it the other day!”
You had taken the definition of mini skirt to a whole other level. You’re well endowed in your backside, which hangs out of the skirt. You bend forward to check your makeup, and Smoke almost falls out.
He frowns at you, “Go change. You ain’t leavin’ the house with that on.”
Naturally, the pout crosses your lips, “But why?”
“Baby, I ain’t finna have these niggas out here eyeing my woman, and I’m not around.”
You huff in annoyance, “Elijah, it’s not that deep. It’s not even that short.”
He eyes the skirt again with a glare on his face. If he could set the skirt on fire, he would.
“It’s not up for discussion. Go change into something else.”
“No.”
Smoke’s head whips around so fast that you’re surprised that his neck doesn’t break. That dark look crosses his face, “Babygirl, you sure you wanna cross that bridge with me? Take yo’ pretty ass back in there and get changed.”
The urge to be a brat weighs heavily on you tonight. You square your shoulders and look him dead in the eye, “Nope, I’m wearing this.”
A honk sounds from outside, and you move to grab your purse. Smoke is openly glaring at you and challenging you, “You leave out of this house, I hope you prepared for the consequences later.”
You shrug, “I’ll be back later on. I love you, Papa Bear.”
With that, you walk your pretty self out the door, even though your stomach tingles with anxiety. As you step into the car, your homegirls turn to look at you.
“Girl, Big Daddy Smoke let you out of the house wearing that,” your friend, Leilani, asks.
You smack your lips, “He was making a big deal of it at first. Telling me that I need to go change. He don’t run me.”
Your friend, Omi, smacks her lips, “Sis, he gone tear you up when you get back. You know them old heads don’t play about all that.”
“It’s fine, y’all. He’ll be okay when I get back.”
“He gone kill her when she gets back. I’m puttin’ a sign on you that says ‘Dead lady walking.’ You might as well gone get your coochie ready,” your friend, Keisha, quips.
When you all make it to the club, it’s turnt as usual. You and Stack lock eyes as you pass his section. His eyes flicker down to your skirt before he starts shaking his head. He ushers you over, “You gotta be one of the craziest people that I’ve ever met. Does my brotha’ know you outside like this?”
“Yes, Smoke doesn’t run me. I can wear what I want,” You state, a frown crossing your face.
Stack laughs. Not one of those low laughs, but the loud and annoying types.
“Whew, I’m scared for you, girl. But I’ll keep an eye on you. Have fun now before you get home,” Stack said, continuing to laugh. He lets you and your girls come into the section with him and his boys. You know that it’s so he can carefully watch you.
Whenever you go to get a drink, Stack stops you and goes to the bar himself. You and your friends go to hit the dance floor when Stack holds his hand up.
“Oh my gosh, Stack, move!”
Stack smacks his lips, “I’m just looking out for you. Gone dance, but if I see any nigga gettin’ too friendly with you, I’m on him like white on rice.”
You give him a thumbs-up before following your friends to the middle of the floor. You’re having the time of your life and twerking like you aren’t on borrowed time. Stack keeps his eyes on you at all times like he’s watching a toddler, which he thinks may be true. He takes his phone out to record a video of you to send to Smoke.
Stack
*video attached*
Don’t stress yourself out. I’m keepin’ an eye on her.
But I know you got something planned when she gets home.
*Smoke liked your message*
Stack takes a sip from his whiskey, “Lord, she in danger.”
By the end of the night, you’re all danced out and sweaty, but overall, you consider the night a win. Stack offers to take you home and ushers you into the car. Your friends snicker because they know that Smoke is punishing you tonight. The only one oblivious to the fact is you.
Pulling into the driveway, Stack turns to you with a smirk, “Good luck.”
The lights are all off in the house except the porch light. Smoke stands under the porch light like a serial killer. You turn to Stack with a grim look, “Maybe, we should back out of the driveway really slowly.”
“Nope. You wanted to be grown. Now, you gotta face your actions like a big girl,” Stack said.
“I’m blinking twice for help. I’m telling a trusted adult!”
Stack shrugs, “Too bad I’m not a trusted adult.”
“Trick..” you mutter before opening the door to exit the car. Smoke nods his head at Stack, who reciprocates.
“I’ll see you in a week,” Stack jokes, before backing out of the driveway.
Like a scared deer, you walk unevenly to the porch where Smoke is still standing. As you approach, he blows out a big cloud of smoke before throwing the joint down and stubbing it out. You stand in front of him, “Hey…”
Smoke doesn’t say anything, but simply steps to the side to let you inside the house. You swallow loudly as you walk inside the house. The only sounds are the distinct chirps from the crickets outside, along with the subtle clicks of your heels. You and Smoke make your way to the bedroom. You go to grab your pajamas when Smoke stops you, “Didn’t I tell you to change earlier?”
You turn slowly to face him, “Yes, you did.”
“And I told you that if you left this house, there would be consequences, but you didn’t listen, did you?”
“No….”
“Come here,” Smoke demands, voice soft. He doesn’t have to raise his voice to get his point across.
You stay rooted in the same spot, partially aroused and partially scared. Smoke chuckles darkly, “You still ain’t learned? You know I don’t like to repeat myself.” You scurry over to stand in front of Smoke as you look up at him with wide eyes.
“Stand right there,” Smoke orders. He walks off to rummage through one of the drawers. Your eyes widen as you see him procure one of his good ties. The heat from his body wafts onto yours as you become hyperaware of him standing behind you. Smoke grabs your hands in his and skillfully wraps the tie around your wrists so that your hands are bound behind your back. He tugs at the knot and hums in satisfaction.
You try your hand at seeing if you can move and find that you can’t. Smoke moves to stand in front of you as he glowers down at you. He steps closer to press his chest against yours. For a moment, a soft look crosses his face as he cups your face in his hands. He leans down to connect your lips, and you moan at the taste of whiskey that lingers on his tongue.
Smoke pulls back from the kiss as his eyes run across you. He trails his hands down your form until his cupping your backside in his hands. “You could’ve stayed home and modeled this lil’ skirt for me, but you wanted to go and show off what’s mine.”
You go to open your mouth to protest, but Smoke stops you, “I didn’t say I was done talking. Since you wanted to be a brat, I’ll treat you like one.” You let out a squeak when Smoke grabs you to throw you on the bed. Your body bounces before it settles.
Gripping the corset in his hands, he cleanly tears it down the middle until the material falls away. You gasp in surprise as the cool air hits your nipples. Flipping you onto your stomach, Smoke hikes your hips up and flips the skirt over.
He tugs your head back, “You owe me. You can either take my hand or something else.”
The last time Smoke spanked you, you were left shaking on the bed. It was either his hand or one of those leather belts with his name on it. You were screwed either way.
“Your hand,” You said.
Smoke nods, “Let’s tally up how much you owe me. 10 for the outfit plus 10 because I told you to take it off and you back-talked. Also, an additional 10 because you still left.” Your wide eyes meet his as you turn to face him, “But daddy, that’s thirty.”
Smoke chuckles, “Glad to see you can count, darlin’.”
The first hit sends heat flooding through your body, along with feeling your cheek ripple under his hand. The second hit sends a flood of wetness to your panties. By the tenth hit, the tears are already running down your face. How were you supposed to count through twenty more?
Your entire backside is on fire once Smoke delivers the last hit. You’re fully shaking and hiccuping into the sheets, but you can’t deny how turned on you are. By now, you’ve soaked completely through your panties, which Smoke clocks.
He takes two fingers and runs them up and down the soiled material, “My dirty baby. What am I gonna do with you, baby? You don’t know how to listen now.”
“M’Sorry, Papa. I’ll listen to you next time.”
“I know you will because I’m gonna make sure that you do.” He flips your body around and grips your panties as he tears them clean from your body. Smoke maneuvers your body to the headboard before going to grab another tie. He loops the tie through the bedpost before securing your hands to it.
Smoke walks over to the closet and rifles through it for a few seconds. You lift your head to get a good look, but his shoulders block your view. He walks over with a long metal rod in hand, “Do you know what this is?”
You shake your head. He laughs lowly, “It’s a spreader bar. I’m gonna put your legs in these cuffs, and you won’t be able to move.” Sitting at the edge of the bed, he removes your heels one by one before throwing them carelessly to the floor. He places your ankles in the cuffs and secures them. Smoke moves to stand in front of the bed as he grabs the metal in his hands. He can already see your glistening folds as your slick pools beneath you.
He moves your legs from side to side, “See, this is a special bar, I made it myself. Every time you move babygirl, it’ll spread your legs more.” He jerks the rod, which loudly clicks as your spread apart more. You look at him in surprise.
He grabs the box that he set on the bed and opens it. Your old man is a sex fiend, apparently, as he lifts various forms of vibrators out of the box. Smoke moves to your open legs and dips his fingers inside of you to collect your slick.
He brings his wet fingers up to his mouth to suck your juices from his fingers. He takes one of the vibrators in his hand before the tip across through your wet center. You shiver at the sensation of the tip dipping into your entrance.
“This one is special, babygirl. That special spot that I’m always hitting…well my little friend is made to specifically reach that spot.” He pushes the toy inside of you as you gasp at the fullness of it.
Smoke coos gently at you as your wet eyes meet his, “There we go, baby.” He clicks a button, which brings the vibrator to life inside you. Smoke pushes the toy in and out of you as your walls cling to it.
Your eyes widen when he holds up another toy, “My other friend is for that lil’ pearl up there.” He trails his fingers through the curls that cover young mound until he reaches your clit. Your body arches into his touch as he casually rubs small circles around your clit.
“Please…” you whine into the room.
“Please what, darlin’? I need you to be more specific,” Smoke said condescendingly.
Your mind is venturing into that mushy territory where you don’t know what you’re asking the man for.
He smirks, “You don’t even know what you’re asking me for. That’s alright. Take care of my other friend for me while I get done smoking.”
He attaches the curved toy to your clit and clicks a button, and it buzzes to life. Your first reaction is to move your body. You wither across the mattress, pleasure consuming every inch of you. You go to move your legs, only for the spreader to click and spread your legs further.
You gasp.
Smoke chuckles before moving to sit in the chair in the bedroom. He grabs his early discarded blunt to relight. He inhales the smoke into his lungs as he casually watches you suffer.
Smoke casually taps the button on his phone, which increases the vibrations on your clit and inside of you. Your back arches from the bed as your release climbs higher.
Just as you’re reaching that sweet release, Smoke taps the button and turns the vibrators off. A loud whine leaves your mouth, “Please let me cum, Papa.”
Smoke blows the smoke from his nose, “Since you asked so nicely…”
He eases up the level of the vibrators to the fullest level. A loud screams erupts from your mouth as your walls clasp around the toy and your orgasm consumes your body.
Smoke leans forward, “That’s one. Give me about four more and we’ll call it even.”
You turn your head to him in disbelief. Before you can protest, he turns the vibrators back on.
You’re a mess of cum, sweat, and tears. Exactly how Smoke prefers you.
Your brain is complete mush at this point and you can feel the puddle that had formed beneath you. Somewhere between the second and third orgasm, you’d squirted.
Smoke turns the vibrators off and throws his phone on the chair. He walks over to you and pulls your ruined face to his. Your expression shows how far gone you are. He lightly taps your face, “You still with me, babygirl?”
Your tongue lolls around in your mouth, “Mhmm, Papa.”
“So you can give me one more?”
“Mhmm.”
He unties your hands from the bed. He runs his hand across your wrists and kisses them gently. Smoke pulls the vibrator from your core and observes the cream that forms around the base of the toy. He flicks his tongue out to slurp some in his mouth.
Smoke pulls his shirt over his head before dropping his boxers. You eye his hardened dick and as tired as you are, you still need to feel him inside of you.
Smoke lays down on the bed next to you and pulls your pliant body across his lap. He points his tip at your swollen entrance, “Go slow, baby. Papa will take care of the rest.”
You lower your pussy down onto his dick as you whine into his shoulder. You shudder as you feel his large tip brushing against that spot inside you.
Smoke grabs your hips in his hand as he gently bounces you up and down on his dick. You turn your head to connect his your lips to his. Smoke slides his tongue into your mouth and gently sucks at your tongue.
He gives a particular thrust that sends fresh tears to your eyes. “I know, it’s too much baby, but you’re doing so good for me. Cum for me one more time, babygirl.”
You nod weakly.
Smoke plants his feet on the bed and starts thrusting roughly into your body. Loud, wet noises fill the bedroom as your walls clench around his length.
“M’coming Papa. Right there..”
Smoke feels his own balls tightening as his release nears. He smashes his lips onto yours as your orgasm hits. He swallows your moans into his mouth as his own orgasm starts.
Smoke holds your hips firmly to his as he fills you up.
You shiver at the feeling of his cum splashing against your womb.
For a second, you both breathe in tandem as your heart calms down. Smoke runs a soothing hand up your back, “You good, Princess?”
“Mhmm, m’good Papa. I’m sorry.”
Smoke chuckles, “I forgive you, baby. Let’s get you ready for bed.”
He gently slides from inside of you as you whimper softly. A wave of Smoke’s cum slides from you as it lands on the bed. Scooping you into his arms, Smoke walks into the bathroom and sits you on the toilet.
You’d long since passed the stage of your relationship where you were shy of going to the bathroom in front of him. As wipe and flush the toilet, you raise your arms for Smoke to pick you up.
He grabs a towel and applies warm water to it before wiping at your face and between your legs. Back inside the bedroom, Smoke gives you a pair of his boxers before sliding his shirt over your head. He slides a pair of briefs on before he tucks you into bed.
He grabs a bottle of water before offering it to you. Once you’re done, you flop back on the pillow. Smoke slides in beside you as he pulls your body closer to his.
“I love you, babygirl.”
“I love you too, Papa Bear.”
He presses a kiss to your neck as he closes his eyes.
You gon argue with me or get your pussy ate?- Cameron Cade 18+
summary- Cameron’s long practices are affecting you more and more and you finally confront him. It doesn’t really go your way though.
cw- oral(f receiving), arguing(kind of one sided), uhhh idk if there’s any more
authors note- yall this audio has been stuck in my head for a minuteee and i had to write something😭 this is also rushed and i was half asleep writing but enjoy!
Cameron’s football practices have been long. Longer than usual and it’s been rubbing you the wrong way for awhile but you never said anything.
After he missed another planned date—which was supposed to be movie night—you were officially fed with him. You stayed up on couch with a cold bowl of popcorn, waiting for him to come in.
It was nearly 2am when he stepped in the house. He cut on the lights to see you sitting there, tapping your manicured nail on your knee.
“Baby I mean’t to call but-”
“I don’t wanna hear it Cameron.” You held up your hand before he could finish speaking. “I’ve been listening to excuses for weeks! It seems like every time we plan something, you end up having practice. You’re too busy in the day to try to even make plans, so I really don’t know what to do anymore! And-”
Just as you were about to continue your rant, Cameron dropped his bags of heavy football equipment at the door and walked into the living room. He dropped to his knees in front of you without a word.
Cameron's face was ridden with tiredness as he kneeled there. "Baby.." He swallowed hard, looking up at you. "I'm so sorry. I didn't realize how much this was hurting you—hurting us." His eyes flickered between your furious expression and the uneaten popcorn on the coffee table. The pain he caused was evident.
Without asking, he reached out slowly then gently took one of your hands in both of his—roughed up from practice—and pressed a kiss to your knuckles like a prayer for forgiveness.
He began to direct his kisses to your knees that were pressed together as you sat with your feet under you.
“Now are you gonna keep arguing or let me apologize the right way?” He looked up at you again, more assertively this time. His hands moved up past your knee, and began rubbing your thighs—higher and higher.
Your breath caught and your anger melted away into a different kind of heat. When you didn’t answer, he hooked his thumbs behind your knees and parted your legs.
“Are you gonna answer me or do I have to answer for you?”
“Apologize the right way…” You breathed out. He dragged your body forward to the edge of the couch and gazed at the wet patch on your lacy panties.
His thumb pressed down into your center, making you squirm. “You sitting here yelling at me knowing you’re soaking like you’re in heat.” He mumbled without even looking back up at you.
You couldn't even form a sentence before his fingers hooked onto the fabric and slid them to the side, revealing your dripping pussy to the cold air.
He leaned in, blowing air into that little button teasingly before diving in and licking from your entrance to your clit and wrapping his lips around it, sucking it into his mouth.
“Oh my- Cameron!” You gasped out loud as he suckled hard on your clit whilst swirling his tongue around it.
“Feel good, don’t it?” he groaned into you.
His hand splayed across your stomach, holding you down while he feasted on you. Argument and problems were far gone out of your mind.
Your mind was blank except for the way your boyfriend was eating you out, and it was really fucking good.
“Feels so fucking—shit—good!”
That feeling began to build up in your lower half the more Cameron lapped at your juices flowing out like nectar.
“I’m gonna cum, Cam.”
He smirked up at you and stroked two fingers up and down your slit before sliding them in, joining his mouth in the pleasure.
“Go ahead and cum for me, Ma.” He wasted no time curling and thrusting his fingers while still flicking his tongue around your clit.
Your back arched off the couch the best it could with his hand holding you down. Your words turned into incoherent rambles as he fingered and licked you into an intense orgasm.
“Good fucking job…” he teased mockingly, chuckling after.
“Shit, shit, shittt…” The orgasm was prolonged by Cameron’s fingers that were still plunging into you but now at a slower pace. He made sure to get all that he could out of you.
“Look at all that goodness…” He mumbled and leaned in to clean up the mess between your legs with his tongue. After about a minute, he lifted his head and sucked your release off his fingers.
“I’m sorry again. I’ll talk to Coach, try to get some days off.” He rose off his knees and bent down to kiss you, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.
What caught you by surprise was him scooping you up bridal style and hauling you to your shared bedroom.
“I hope you don’t have any plans tomorrow because I’m spending all night making it up to you,” you laughed, knowing he was dead serious about his promise.
: ̗̀➛ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: cameron cade x best friend black!reader
: ̗̀➛ 𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆: M 18+, NSFW
: ̗̀➛ 𝐖.𝐂: 2.03K
: ̗̀➛ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: best friends who finally do the do.
: ̗̀➛ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: ROUGHLY EDITED, explicit sexual content, porn with no/minor plot, unprotected sex, rough sex: manhandling, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, slight breeding kink [he has you in a mating press], slight toxic!cameron, slight aftercare, abrupt ending [i didn’t know how to end it gang 😭]
: ̗̀➛ 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑’𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: my official first tyriq[and characters project] I do have many more coming! I am trying to raise £200 to help with a short fall. I’ve had some shifts cancelled on me so I’m behind on bills! If any of you can donate I would appreciate it PayPal. 💕
Regardless, please reblog, comment and like 💕
“Damn baby, why didn’t you tell me you had all this good pussy?”
Cameron mumbled against your bare leg that were currently hiked over his broad shoulder, his voice dripping with admiration a lot sweeter than the way he was fucking you.
The question was rhetorical but emphasised just how much he was enjoying being inside of you.
Goosebumps broke all over the surface of your flushed and damp skin, choking on a whiny moan as your cunt tightly squeezed and pulsated around him. The throbbing sent a shiver down the length of his spine and settled in his bones. A flurry of chopped sobs poured from your mouth as your climax began to climb. You were so close. And he could feel it all.
You would have tried to answer his question but in truth - you didn’t know how to.
The two of you met during freshman in college - sharing the same physiotherapy classes and the two of you instantly clicked. When he first approached you - you couldn’t believe that he’d even talk to you. When you first arrived on campus, his name was uttered in every corner. He was the person to know because of his projected career. You had wanted to keep away from him - you didn’t like attention being drawn to you at all but Cameron just had to be enrolled on your course.
Even worse, he came to sit next to you.
You stilled at just making eye contact with him. Low sitting blue eyes, dimples deep as he smiled, rosy lips begging for attention and from his seated position alone you could tell that he was tall. He made sure that you couldn’t ignore him and you hated that fell for his charm, hook, line and sinker.
The attraction was shared and the chemistry intensified with each interaction but nothing ever came off it.
Football. Girlfriends. Endorsements. A great rookie career - all of it got in the way.
So friendship is what you settled for and you were grateful just to be a part of his journey.
Unfortunately for you, he was relentless. The friendship status did not matter to him at all and Cameron steadily flirted with you like the devil of temptation resided in his flesh. Always hanging around, giving you his undivided attention when you were close. Treating you just on the edges of a girlfriend, yet always teasing the word ‘friend’ in front of you. You always let it wash over you because being close to him in any capacity was worth it.
That attraction however, could not be denied and could not be hidden. And he’d picked up on it and he played with it - he played with you. He enjoyed teasing you. Kissing you on the neck, hands on your lower waist as he moved past you, hugs that lingered. Girlfriends be damned - you were the apple of his eye even if you denied what you were to him.
So that was how you found yourself in his penthouse - on a supposed regular night in with your best friend on his days off. So how you ended up in your current predicament was unbeknownst to you.
A movie, typical gossip, a game of tease.
From there all it took was a kiss.
A soft brush of your lips when he leaned down above you, whispering teasingly against your lips, fingers underneath your chin before gripping your jaw so that you couldn’t shift your eye contact away from him. So that he could see all of that want dripping out of your eyes.
“Do it.” You dared him.
And it was no surprise that he listened.
You had been so determined not to fall into his orbit and now you were on your back, sweating out your hairstyle, tank top ripped and panties pulled to the side as he manhandled you in every way. Your pussy stretched out and creaming around the thickest dick you’ve ever had in your life as you moaned in bliss. Fuck, you loved every second of it.
Cameron’s thrusts were deliciously brutal, his hips snapped into yours as your legs hang over his shoulders. He fucked you like you were a bitch in heat and you sounded just like one. Your mouth dropped open as your cries and whines could not be contained, sounding real pretty for him.
He breathed heavily through his nose at the sight your cream coating the length of his dick. Cam wedged his hands underneath the arch at the base of your back and gripped tight. He used your body as leverage to fuck into you even deeper.
The heat of the bedroom was making you delirious as much as the way his fat mushroom tip was pushing against your softest spots. You were so loud and Cameron drank all of your sounds by shushing you with rough kisses.
The wet clapping emitting from where your bodies connected was getting so loud, Cameron had to look down. His loud moan barely registered through the fog clouding your senses.
“You’re sooo fucking wet baby. Gushing all that good shit all over me, fuuuccckkk.”
You were looking up at him, doe eyed, a soft crease pinching in-between your eyebrows with your teeth biting onto your bottom lip as you tried to control it. He was hitting all of your good spots and it was so intense, it sat like a weight on your chest.
Then, Cameron pushed your legs back so that your knees were touching your ears and he moved to hover directly above you. He used his upper body to contort you into the perfect position for him - ready for his taking and you were in awe with how it left you feeling. The weight of pleasure sinking into your bones, deeper and deeper.
“O-oooh!” You gasped as you pulled on the sheets underneath your fingertips.
His beautiful, blue eyes never left your face as he watched your pretty face surrender into the pleasure he was delivering. Your eyebrows drew together tighter, as if you were about to cry, your lips forming into an ‘o’ form as he slowed down his strokes, letting you enjoy the feel of him. Inch by inch.
Soft curves and hard muscles colliding into each other. Naked,skin on skin - still, felt like there was a barrier between the two of you. The thought slamming into you, nothing will ever be enough, you will always want more. Cameron groaned as he felt the pain of your nails breaking into the skin of his back as you unintentionally brought him closer.
You were begging for him without words and that caused him to smirk in satisfaction. Cameron couldn’t believe you had been keeping this type of connection away from him. The type of connection that quenched your thirst but left you famished for more.
He was brought out of his thoughts by the feel of your trembling fingers tracing his bottom lip, tugging it free from his teeth. He placed a tender kiss on the inside pad of your thumb before his eyes drew back to where your bodies connected. The sight of it caused all of his blood to soar down to his aching dick.
Slathered all over his base was milky white. It built up generously and it accumulated so much the flapping wetness caused his eyes to roll to the back of his head. He couldn’t believe you’d ever get this wet.
“Yeahhh mamas, I can’t believe she’s this wet for me …”
Cameron doesn’t take his eyes off your cunt as he slammed back in, the wetness drawing a delicious drag with drag. He threw his head back as a deep groan left him. The sound was so primal it sent nasty shivers down your spine and settled in your pelvis.
But you didn’t move your hand away from his pelvis as he was folding you even deeper. In fact, Cameron, lowered his upper body until he was completely folded over yours. His pelvis ground against your clit, his trimmed hair brushing your clit - hard.
Cameron was wild in his lust.
He sucked bruising kisses into your neck, his tongue trailed hotly up to your mouth to claim it in a deep kiss. It was all consuming, overwhelming. His long tongue flattened against yours in maddening swipes, sucking the muscle sloppily into his own mouth which made you lightheaded.
Blood rushed to your ears as he ground his hips up again, hammering away at that spot inside you but not enough to make you cross eyed and your hand pressed on his abdomen.
Cameron kept his eyes on as you gasped desperately. Your eyes closed as he nipped at your bottom lip which caused you to sigh softly. His tongue darted out and soothed the sting of your bite before whispering inside your mouth- eyes glazed, “Move that hand, baby.”
You didn’t move your hand but he did it for you. He grabbed your wrist and trapped it above your head as he drilled into you. Your mind was mush the more he thrusted into you so you didn’t even try to think straight. Cameron was so caught up in the moment - not just from the heat of your pussy but how tight and how creamy you were.
Letting out a string of swears, Cameron captured them by bringing your mouth into another overwhelming kiss. His cock aching whilst he swallowed your wails as you twitched and ached around him.
Until you couldn’t take it anymore. Cam gave another harsh yet hard roll of his hips into your swollen opening while he was battering at that tender spot inside of you and then … you were coming.
And fuck! You were coming, hard. Your nails clawed at Cam’s rigged muscles as a swarm of stars completely eclipsed your vision whilst your body went into shock with wave after wave of vicious pleasure.
Your wails were so loud, you struggled to recognise your voice. But Cameron had a clear view to the ecstasy flooding your face he pumped his hips forward, pushing himself deeper into your body. Filthy words of praise and encouragement directly in your ear, prolonging your orgasm.
“That’s it, babygirl … I love the way you’re cumming all over me…”
Tears spilled from your eyes and you were close to passing out when Cam dropped his head into your chest and took one of your swollen nipples into his mouth, his thrusts slowing down in tempo as he shot his cum deep inside of your heat with a muffled groan.
He filled you up to the brim and then popped out your nipple out of his mouth with a satisfied sigh.
The both of you were riddled with tiredness, thighs were killing you, and your body was trembling like a leaf but a grin had etched onto your lips regardless as Cameron placed calming kisses everywhere his lips could touch.
He slowly pulled out, warm yet concerned eyes checking over you for any sign of discomfort as you basked in the glow of the aftermath. Your eyes closed as you sank into the softness of the blankets beneath you. You left his kisses on your cheeks in the tender way that you’d grown accustomed to.
“You okay sweet girl? I didn’t hurt you did I?”
“No, baby. I’m good.” You shook your head as you hummed in satisfaction. You felt him shift away from the bed, leaving you in your peaceful lonesome until you felt him wipe you down gently with a wet towel. You heard a thud as he tossed to rag onto on the floor when he was done.
You felt the bed dip beside you before Cameron slipped up behind you. Your hands reached behind you and brought him closer with a soft hum. You had crossed that line in your friendship and you couldn’t process what it meant for the future for the both of you. But you’d bask in whatever this moment meant for you.
Cameron nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck. “We’ll never just be friends after this.” He mumbled.
He was right about that. Nothing would ever be the same.
After his first experience with your portal pussy, Clark’s become a bit… attached. It rarely sees the inside of your nightstand now; Clark always has it in his briefcase or backpack. And since you’re always wearing the panties, he can always take it out for a little peek at his pretty pussy. Sometimes, he’ll even take it out in the bathroom stalls. Lick a bit, to sate his thirst for it.
It’s a rare time when Clark is at home, and you’re out. You were busy running errands. Clark’s not used to being home alone. Krypto’s not even here.
With a heavy sigh, he plops right back onto the couch, the familiar blue metal disc in his hands. He unscrews the lid.
Your pretty pearl and folds sit inside, perfect. There’s even a bit of wetness from you and Clark’s early morning sex, cum dribbling from your hole.
After that first session, you and Clark had talked more about consent. Any time you were wearing the panties, Clark could do whatever he wanted. So Clark slides the tip of his cock up and down your seam. It’s warm and slippery. Clark notches the head of his cock right into your fluttering hole, and groans as he slides right in.
You immediately feel it in the middle of the grocery store. That perfect stretching sensation, the heft and fullness that came from Clark. You expect him to move, but he just stays there. It appears it’s a cockwarming sesson. So you go about your day as his cock is nestled perfectly inside, a reminder of how much Clark loves his gift.
pov: when y/n threatens to kick tyriq withers out the house due to a silly argument and she starts packing his bags and throwing shi out the house and things get physically(she only puts hands on him) because he won’t leave and then he eventually puts her in her place(aggressively but not abusively like sexy dominance)
so um…i was out and couldn’t function properly all night after i read this😅
thank you for this ! here’s a little something something….
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
The fight started over something small and petty. Last night you attended an industry event with Tyriq. You accused him of spending too much time at the event with the director of his latest film. You knew Tyriq didn’t want the woman but that didn’t stop you from starting the argument.
“You know what..I’m done arguing”
You storm out of the living room area where you and your boyfriend were having the heated argument. And head up the stairs.
“Where you going?” Tyriq says following behind you, voice tight as you burst through the door of your shared bedroom.
“Get out and leave me alone. Go to that bitch house since you wanna smile all in her face”
“Man you ain’t gotta talk crazy like that” Tyriq mutters. Over your attitude.
“I said get out of my house!” You turn towards him, raising your voice and pointing behind him. A furious look on your face.
“I’m not leaving” He stands firm in front of you. Planting his feet, arms laced in front of him as if telling you to try him.
“Oh you aren’t? Ok” Once inside you go to the closet and snatch a few articles of clothing that belonged to him.
“Mmcht what are you doing?”
Gathering them in your hands you stomp back downstairs and towards the front door. Tyriq is still standing in your shared bedroom confused about what you are doing.
Once downstairs you open the front door and throw the clothes onto the lawn. Tyriq looks down from the window brows knitted together. “Ain’t no fucking way” He rushes down the steps and to the front door. By this time. You are throwing any and everything of his that’s in close proximity to the front door out on the lawn.
“This the type of timing you are on?!” He tries to stop you by stepping in front of you but you just use all your strength to push him away from you.
He goes to grab your hand to stop you from going inside of the house to grab anything else but you jerk away from him “Get the fuck away from me Tyriq”
By this time the neighbors across the street had come outside. They stand in their yards pretending that they are checking the mail but their eyes are locked in on the chaos.
With a quick hand movement, you mush his head backwards. Tyriq chuckles, shaking his head. “You tripping on a whole other level right now. Get in the house”
Instead of doing as he says you fold your arms defiance written all in your stance. “No”
He was trying really hard to be patient with you but the way you were being defiant and causing a scene making the neighbors come out made him lose any patience he had left.
“Get the fuck in the house!” He raises his voice, grabbing a firm hold on your arm and moving you towards the front door and into the house.
Once inside he slams the door behind him and turns your way. You look up at him as his towering 6’5 body leans over you.
“What’s the real problem? Because you just blew this shit all out of proportion”
You don’t answer him. Instead you keep quiet. Slowly getting turned on by the way he manhandled you just a few seconds ago.
“You can’t talk now huh?” His piercing greenish grey eyes staring down into you as he moves towards you closing the gap. “You had so much to say not too long ago” his voice dropping a few octaves all husky and deep.
He reaches up, gripping your jaw firmly, making you look up towards him. You whimper at the action. He lifts an eyebrow. An amusing smirk plastered across his lips.
“Yeah…” He lets go of your jaw and backs up. Giving you space to move.
Can you do another story with Cameron Cade and plus size reader?
natural high ❥ tyriq withers
PAIRING: tyriq withers as “cameron ‘cam’ cade” from “him (2025)” x black!fem!plus-sized!reader
SUMMARY: inspired by “Natural High (Even Higher Learning)” by Freddie Gibbs + this edit + in which Cameron comes home from late-night football practice with only you on his mind. 🩷
AUTHOR’S NOTE: i was initially saving this req for a different fic i’ve been working on (which is also a req) but i wanted to put out another filler chapter while i finish other drafts, so enjoy ☺️
the front door opening and closing was what shifted you from half-asleep to a bit more aware of your surroundings. you stirred slightly in bed and peered over to the alarm clock on your nightstand, ‘3:15 A.M.’ staring back at you in LED writing.
before you could move further, the sound of heavy footsteps caught your attention and you turned your head just in time to see none other than Cameron Cade standing at the doorway shirtless and in a pair of sweatpants with his gym bag thrown over one of his broad shoulders.
“did i wake you?” Cameron asked lowly, his voice surprisingly rough, as he walked over to his closet and tossed his gym bag inside with a soft huff.
“no,” you answered softly as you shifted onto your back to properly watch him, “i been awake for a while now.”
“i told you ‘bout staying up late waiting on me, ma,” Cameron sighed as he pulled back the covers and climbed underneath them, pulling them back into their original place while he moved to climb on top of you, “don’t want you losin’ sleep ‘cause i’m at practice so late, baby.”
“i’m sorry,” you murmured, your hands instinctually moving to rest against his upper arms, as Cameron carefully lowered his weight onto you and pressed his body against yours, a soft hum of contentment falling from his lips at your warmth, “how was practice?—”
“don’t wanna talk about it,” the words flew quickly from Cameron’s mouth as if they’d already been sitting at the back of his throat the moment practice ended, and he pressed two soft pecks against your lips before lowering his head to rest in the crook of your neck, “need you to make me feel better.”
this wasn’t an unfamiliar situation when it came down to Cameron and football practice. he was unethically overworked, and as a QB, it seemed as if he was always carrying so much more on his shoulders than he needed to — so much more than a person could mentally handle.
you were his anchor through it all. you kept him grounded and gave him an outlet to let out his emotions, along with helping him relax when his body was coiled tightly with tension.
“i’ll be quick, baby,” Cameron whispered against your neck, sliding his hands under the oversized shirt on your body that was technically his, as his large palms tenderly caressed your chunky waist and his thumbs grazed the waistband of your underwear, “promise i will… just… can’t sleep without feelin’ you around me first.”
“you don’t have to rush, Cam,” you reassured him softly as you cradled the back of his head and he groaned quietly at your touch, “take what you need from me, baby.”
Cameron inhaled sharply from your words and you felt his body go stiffer as he raise his head from your neck and took a hand off your waist to pull your panties to the side, a string of arousal clinging to them and making him groan desperately at the sight.
“oh, baby…” Cameron sighed deeply as he held your panties aside with one hand and used his other to push his shorts and boxers down enough to expose his dick, “so grateful for you… and this pussy. so grateful for my pretty girls. so fuckin’ grateful.”
before either of you could utter a word, Cameron was already pushing inside you, a guttural moan falling from his lips at feeling your pussy greedily swallow every inch of him and pull him deeper and deeper inside your slick walls.
your breathing hitched and a broken gasp fell from your mouth as you watched his hips slowly push forward before your eyes flickered up to Cameron’s face, taking note of his glossy eyes and blown pupils.
the moment he was buried to the hilt was when his tension suddenly washed away, and he stared down at you reverently as he leaned down and pressed his forehead against yours, his big hands finding your chunky waist through the shirt on your body and firmly holding onto it.
“i love you,” Cameron moaned roughly as his hips slowly pulled back before roughly snapping forward, earning a squeal from you while your hands grabbed ahold of his back, “fuck, i love you so much, baby… don’t know where i’d be without you.”
despite Cameron’s sweet nothings, his hips seemingly had a mind of their own. he fucked into you like a man starved, the bed creaking rhythmically underneath the two of you while he deeply pounded your pussy.
his nose occasionally brushed against yours and his groans mingled with your moans as you clung to him and he clung to you right back, his hands now tightly gripping your thick hips to pull you into his quick thrusts and maintain his rhythm while your nails sunk into his back to hold him against you.
“C-Cam!—”
“i k-know, baby. fuck, i know,” Cameron moaned pathetically as he suddenly wrapped his arms around your body and held you against his body, his hips flush against yours while he rocked them back and forth and ultimately created friction between his pelvis and your clit, “you takin’ it so good f’me, mama, just hold onto me… i got you. i always got you.”
to Cameron, you were more than his girlfriend. you were almost like a drug. something that kept him grounded, but also kept him calm and at peace. something that kept him relaxed and let his mind find tranquility in silence. something that gave him a high, but it wasn’t the typical high that anyone would get from a standard drug.
you might’ve felt like a drug, but you gave a better high than others did — a natural high that had Cameron dependent on you to destress him from the trials and tribulations of his life.
