Pairing: Elijah “Smoke” Moore/ Laylah/ Elias “Stack” Moore/ Erik “Killmonger” Stevens - Modern AU
Summary: You’ve been dating Smoke for awhile now. Finally caught in between making excuses again or showing up to his place for the first time, you're put to the test on backing up all those assertive claims you’ve made. You knew he lived with his brothers because of their constant interruptions. What you didn’t know is that you all would get real acquainted, real soon!
Warnings: Use of N word, Fingering, Dirty Talk, Good Girl Praise, Handjobs, Oral (m/f receiving), Penetration, Voyeurism
“E, you crazy as hell man”
“What? The nigga started with me”
“I mean you did have your tongue down his girl throat”
“Stack, you know I don’t be caring when I got Henny in my system”
“No lie. I don’t blame you. She was thick as hell. I almost told you to pass her to me”
The two of them dab each other up & laugh obnoxiously loud.
“Aight nah, keep it down. This why Smoke don’t like when we hang out”
“Stack, Smoke act just like us. He just more quiet. He be on the same timing”
“That may be true, but let’s take the back entrance. I don’t wanna hear his mouth about us walking in loud”
At this point you & Smoke are still in your own world. Placing his hand on your knee, he closed your legs to make you face front to watch the movie.
“I want to make sure this stays your favorite movie forever. Whenever you watch it, I want you to think of me & how this movie is a metaphor for this moment.”
Letting go of another suppressed moan you couldn’t hold anymore.
“Mmm shit. What you plan on doing?”
“Keep your eyes on the movie. I’ll do the rest”
Moving his hand further up your knee. He continued to place wet tongue filled kisses on your neck. Wanting to go further, but not rush, Smoke took his time thinking he had the full night.
“Can I touch your pussy, please?”
Shaking your head a little too fast.
He laughs at your eagerness
“Nah baby, I need you to use your words”
“Yesss”
“Yes what?
“Yesss please Smoke Daddy”
“That’s a good girl”
Moving closer and closer, hand across your thigh in feathered drags. Smoke gets moisture from your slit to drag up to your clit. Moving in small deep circles, you turn your head to kiss his lips.
Something so sexy about kissing while your pussy is being worshipped by his hand had you feeling bolder. Hornier even.
“Keep your eyes on the movie. It’s your favorite, right?”
“You’re my favorite”
That made him speed up his pace.
“You trying to get me to make a mess in my sweats?”
“Yes, if that means I can clean it up.”
This makes Smoke tongue you down something serious. He continues his same pace, making you moan even louder. So loud, you can hear an echo of yourself on a loop. It feels so damn good, it got you tilting your head back.
“I need you to touch me. Turning me on so damn bad.” Smoke says
”Damn, as long as she can touch me next!” Erik chimes in
You snap your head back to see the face with the voice. If this were any other time you would be pissed, but it was hard when the two faces staring back looked identical to the one giving the pleasure.
”What the hell are ya’ll doing back? And how long ya’ll been standing there?”
”Smoke, I was trying to get us to our rooms quietly, but loud mouth here had to say something.” Stack says fake annoyed, but he was just as intrigued as Erik
”Ya’ll sitting right in the living room. It would be hard to miss and I’m damn near glad I didn’t.” Erik still not caring about letting it be known he was enjoying the scene.
”Laylah, baby. I’m sorry these deviants interrupting our night. I’ll get rid of them.”
”Now hold on, I ain't no deviant. I agree with E, Smoke you just like us, but in different font.” Stack says with a grin
“Aight, y’all niggas gotta get out.”
”It’s fine. I’m not mad. It’s kind of hard to be. They look just like you”
Stack and Erik share a look. They realized they may be staying after all.
Smoke takes a look at you. You can’t tell if he’s trying to read you or if he’s slightly turned on by the statement. He leans in so only you can hear.
”What you saying right now? Is this something you want to happen? You cool with these fools watching because I definitely wasn’t finished?”
”I don’t want you to stop. I kind of like the idea of two more of you looking back at me.”
Smoke is highly intrigued on how you will perform. He leans in again just to mess with you.
“I told you, you was nasty like me. One rule tho: Only person fucking you is ME ” with a smirk on his face
”So, what’s up? Ya’ll gone talk about us like we ain’t standing here. Smoke, why don’t you introduce us.” Says Erik
Stack stands in silence looking intently. He knows if it was a real issue, Smoke would’ve been blown his top. Something was definitely up.
”I’m Laylah. I was telling Smoke that ya’ll can stay.”
Stack and Erik share a look again and immediately sit down in the lounge chairs across from them.
”So, what we having our own lil private party?” Stack inquires
”I guess you can say that. I told Smoke that I don’t mind ya’ll watching me.”
The room was turning up a couple notches in heat. So much so, you pushed the blanket off of you further and all three men’s eyes damn near bucked out of their face. You start to remove your skirt slowly since it was barely hanging on anyway.
Tossing it to the side, you spread your legs as wide as they could go. Pulling your panties to the side, you motion for Smoke to come over & finish what he started.
”Damn Laylah, I see why you got my brother in here doing what’s he’s told. All I see is soaking wet pink.” Stack speaks, damn near drooling
Stack starts to loosen his belt on his jeans and leans back to get more comfort from the restraint of his dick growing hard.
Smoke begins to lick his fingers and place his hand back on your dripping wet center. You instantly begin to moan from the physical and visual stimulation. So much that you start to touch yourself. Playing with your nipples. You look from Smoke, to Stack, and then Erik. He was just staring. Arms crossed over his chest, leaning back. Like he was studying. He was turned on no doubt, but there was something there he wasn’t saying.
Smoke continued to move circles around your clit. You remembered he asked you to touch him before your session got interrupted. Reaching for the band of his sweats, you carefully free him from the restraints he’s had all night.
”Fuckkkk. Finally, stroke it for me baby. I need to feel something.”
Smoke started to rub your clit faster again. This time he inserted two of his fingers. The sound is loud, wet and gushy. Keeping the rhythm, he rubs his thumb on your clit at the same time. Making you lose it. You look over to Stack he has his dick fully out and stroking it like crazy. You look him dead in his eyes and start to moan and speak.
”Yesss, Oh my God Daddy. I got you. I can’t wait to put my mouth on it.”
Just then, Erik leaned forward. That was it. He wanted to touch too. Watching wasn’t enough.
”I’m just curious. Do we get to taste Miss Laylah as well?”
Just as Smoke was about to speak, “I can touch you, but you can’t touch me.” You stated.
”Mmm. Does that mean you can stroke this dick and put your mouth on it too?”
Smoke was right. You can for sure tell who’s more of a menace between the three of them. You can’t lie, you kind of liked it. He was straight to the point.
”Why don’t you walk over here and see?”
Erik took his time standing. Taking off his jacket and tossing it in the seat behind him. He undoes his belt slowly with his eyes on yours. Unfastening his buttons and then pulling on his zipper. He reveals that monster finally. It was so pretty and thick. All of them looked the same, but slightly different. Smoke’s was the thickest, Stack’s was longer, and Erik had the perfect amount of both. Like a younger version of Smoke walking towards you with so much confidence.
Sitting up slightly, you take hold of him in your hand. Making sure not to break eye contact.
”You ain’t scared huh, ma? I like that”
”Scared? No, this look like a lot of fun in here”
Stack taking notice to your reference of the whole room. Still stroking himself at a decent pace.
“I think she ready to put her mouth where her hand is. What you think Miss Laylah? Says Stack, fully enjoying everything displayed before him.
Erik pulls his shirt up to reveal that well sculpted body. He holds it under his chin so you could get a good visual. Dimpled smile on display. Messy locs making him look even more dangerous.
You drag your hand from the base to his tip. Making sure to tease him there a little longer. You had to look down to see how pretty it looked from all the sounds he was making.
“Uhhh… shitt! Your hands are so soft. It ain’t even no spit added yet and it feel like silk” Erik continues to moan
“Mmm hmm” Smoke chimes in, in agreeance
All these grown men moaning & groaning all because of you. Lowkey wished this would’ve happened sooner.
“Ready to see if you can take care of me?” Erik says between moans
Barely looking at him because you were so focused on keeping the action in memory
Erik gently places his hand on the back of your head. Grabbing a handful of hair & yanking softly to tilt your head to look at him. He instructed you to open your mouth.
“Open wider and aye… eyes on me” Erik smirks with a glimmer of gold peaking between those sexy ass lips.
Teasing the tip on your tongue, he slowly rubs it side to side. Wetting it up enough to rub over your lips like the slickest gloss. You lick the underside of it. Teasing him. He steps in closer to push further. You pull back & look up at him. He looks at you with a raise of eyebrow for the defiant move.
“I want to please you both at the same time” Laylah stated
“I gotta make sure Smoke Daddy is taken care of first”
You straddled Smoke in reverse cowgirl. Carefully placing your legs on each side of him. You placed your hands on his knees to tilt your head out far enough to reach Erik. Also creating a deep enough arch for Smoke.
“You sit right here on top of me and show me how talented you are”
Slowly sinking down on Smoke and sticking your tongue out wider for Erik. It’s almost as if everybody in the room felt the same connection. Moans in unison, even from Stack, you finally got to feel that stretch you’ve been craving. You keep your eyes on Erik as instructed. Doing your best to keep a steady rhythm. You find a pace perfect enough for the three of you. Something about it felt euphoric. You could feel it all over you.
Sounds of “mmm fuck!”, “Keep doing that shit”, and “such a good girl” floated around the room.
“Ooh I can’t believe this pretty little thang got us in here in the palm of her hands.” Erik says as he places his hand on the back of your head again to pace himself.
You start to increase your speed a little once you noticed Stack stroking himself at a faster pace. You wanted all of you to cum at the same time.
Seemed as if Smoke could tell the same. He began to reach around to play with your clit while you continued your pace.
“Nah, you gotta cum before us princess. I wanna see you fall apart in the middle of all of this.” Smoke placing a nice smack to your arched backside and rubbing it with a grip.
You feel yourself bouncing, really floating. It almost feels like an outer body experience. Bouncing on Smoke, Bobbing your head for Erik, and locking eyes with Stack. Your release was tipping over. Mouth full and all you could do was hum through the orgasm.
“Mmmm….hmmm” using your hand to jerk Erik so you can talk “Oh my God. I’m cumming. Shitttt”
You put your mouth back on Erik & soon after that they both followed suit. Along with Stack from your sideview of him.
You lean back against Smoke, still trying to catch your breath.
“Damn baby. You did so good, so good.” Smoke says as he places kisses along your jawline
“We need to make family night a thing on the regular” laughs Erik
“What you think Miss Laylah?” Asks Stack
A smile creeping up your face at the thought of doing this again. You look over to Smoke.
“As long as my Smoke Daddy is cool with it, I’m down”
He smiles back at the fact you even asked permission even though it was your call.
i’ve been seeing people online being upset about David Jonsson being the new Black Panther over Damson Idris, and even going far enough to say that he’s not cute. Y’all David Jonsson is too fine, and most of he’s definitely talented. If y’all haven’t watched him in Industry, Rye Lane, Alien: Romulus, or The Long Walk, y’all are missing out on some talent!!
Also to go as far as implying that Ryan didn’t hire Damson bc of Michael is crazy work. We all know that Ryan hires based on who he feels will best bring the vision to life. I wish people would give David a shot before immediately writing him off bc I can see an Oscar in his future frfr!
Mind y’all, this is the man they trynna call unattractive 🥴
The smut is finally here, y'all. Turned myself on with this shit, Annie is so lucky, I want to be dicked tf down like this too! There's a particular scene that's inspired by one of @nahimjustfeelingit-writes stories.
Language, Smut, degradation, praise kink, praise, rough handling, use of ‘daddy’/papa, spanking, cream pie, buttplay, slight exhibition, being put through the mattress, squirting.
Cheryl was rolling on the floor, gently playing with Elisha. Annie looked on with fondness, her eyes filled with a softness she often kept to herself. ‘You sure you can take Eli for the night? Cassandra already told me it’s no problem for her to watch him.’ Annie said over her mug of peppermint tea. Cheryl huffed. ‘Man, leave me and my nephew alone. We got an understanding going on, don’t we baby?’Cheryl cooed at Elisha who was happily knocking over his legs, bright eyes dancing up at his Aunty. ‘Yeah!’ Elisha responded with the enthusiasm only a well adjusted toddler could.
Just then, Annie’s phone rang. It was Cassandra.
‘Hey girl. You ready?’
‘I am. Cheryl’s here, she’s gonna take Elisha for the night.’
‘Cool, come outside, I’m parked out front’.
Annie gathered Elisha close, inhaling his cocoa butter and plastic playdoh scent. Kissing him she caught his distracted gaze. ‘Be good for TT Cheryl ok, sweetpea.?’ Elisha nods brightly. ‘K, mama.’ She kisses his round cheeks again, making him giggle and hand him off to Cheryl. ‘His wipes are in the top corner of the bathroom. Also, he’s gonna try and insist on wearing his separate pyjamas but he sleeps better in the onesies, ignore him. Remember to pack his legos and-’ Cheryl puts her hand on Annie’s shoulder. ‘I got this, Annie. You know that.’ Annie forces herself to take a deep breath. ‘I’m sorry.’ Cheryl squeezes Annie’s hand. ‘You don’t got to be sorry. Go fix this car, ok?’ Annie bumps Cheryl’s shoulder. ‘OK, OK.’
MOORE LIFE AUTO REPAIR SHOP- LATER THAT DAY.
Stack was having a hectic day. Well, more hectic than usual. Contractors had come in to discuss estimates with him. The garage was expanding at a rate that he couldn’t keep up with and the shop needed more space. He initially wanted to simply sell this place and buy a bigger plot of land. But he was a sentimental man, and he remembered how he had scrimped and saved to buy this place on his own. This land represented the struggle, the discipline. He didn’t want to let it go. So if it meant dealing with contractors who were a pain in the ass to add on a second garage, so be it.
So there he was going back and forth with these assholes when a tow truck pulled up in front of the garage. That in itself wasn’t a shock. He did own a repair shop after all. But what was a shock was who stepped out of the tow truck. The first person was a woman he didn’t recognize, a caramel skinned full figured woman with a welcoming aura who was going back and forth with..
Night Rider.
Just like in the strip club that fateful night, everything stopped. The voices of the contractors had muted, the only thing that mattered in that moment was her. She hadn’t noticed him yet, but he couldn’t take his eyes off her. She was wearing a pair of denim pedal pushers that held her curves without apology, an off the shoulder maroon colored blouse cradled her large breasts and on her feet were matching maroon wedge heels. Her hair was in a high puff. Night Rider finally hopped out the truck herself, musical laugh coloring the air. And then she finally saw him….
ANNIE
And time stopped. She would have recognized him anywhere. He was dressed far more casually than at the club. Stack was in plain black jeans with a matching Hanes shirt. No jewelry on but he still carried an almost kingly air about him. Her heart stalled in her chest. ‘Annie? Girl, what’s wrong with you?’ Cassandra asked. Annie just shook her head, watching Stack approach the both of them. He finally reached where they were at, his gaze pinning her into place.
‘Welcome to Moore Life. What can I help y’all with?’ He posed the question to the both of them, but Stack only had eyes for Annie, he was mentally undressing her right there in the Louisiana heat, contractors, his staff, Cassandra and whoever else be damned. Annie found her voice. ‘My car gave up the ghost a couple of days ago, can’t figure out why. My friend Cassandra said her brother got her car repaired here and-’
‘What’s your name?’ Stack asked suddenly and once again Annie’s heart stopped. She said nothing. ‘You know, for your vehicle? We need it for record keeping purposes.’ Annie cleared her throat. ‘My name is Annie. Annie Leveau.’
‘Annie’ Stack whispered.
STACK
Annie was even more beautiful in the light of day. Unlike in the club, she was wearing almost no makeup. Just wispy lashes and a clear gloss, and a blush on the high apples of her cheeks. Once again it felt like Stack was in a trance. He had believed that the enchanting moment he had shared with Night Rider was a once in a lifetime encounter, a moment never to be repeated. What are the odds that the woman who had been haunting his wet dreams would wander into his shop, looking like sin and salvation all at the same time? He didn’t know he ended up with such incredible luck, but he did know that he wouldn’t let this chance slip out of his hands again. He went through the motions himself. He refused to allow any of his mechanics to do the intake, ask the questions, figure out the problem. Every moment spent was a moment to learn who Annie was, to listen to her speak, learn her mannerisms. And Stack eagerly grabbed every moment like an eager student.
LATER
Stack tapped his foot. ‘The motor is completely shot. Now, we can tinker with it here and there, but this issue will just come up again. It’s just kicking the can down the road. It’s got to be replaced.’ Annie blew out a tired breath. ‘And how much is that gonna set me back?.’ Stack raised an eyebrow mischievous brow. ‘It’s pretty steep, Annie. I’m not even gonna lie to you.’ Annie nervously played with an errant curl that framed her pretty face. A tick that Stack filed away. ‘Well?’ Stack pretended to consider it. ‘It’ll cost you a date.’
‘A date?’ Cassandra exclaimed. ‘Boy what the hell?-’
‘OK. A date then.’ Annie responded with a smile stretching her face. Cassandra was gobsmacked. The Annie she knew had no time for men. But ever since they stepped into this garage, it was like she and Stack were in some sort of strange dance. She had never seen anything like this, and she knew Annie pretty well. And Annie knew her pretty well, she could clearly feel the question coming on because just then she turned to face Cassandra. ‘I’ll explain later, Cassie..’ Cassandra looked between Annie and Stack and nodded. ‘Alright girl. But you got a lot of explaining to do.’
The car was quiet. Not out of nervousness, but with a heaviness, a weight to it. Like the vehicle knew that the inevitable was about to happen but there was no rush. Stack had his eyes on the road, jaw clenched and one hand on the steering wheel. ‘What you in the mood for?’ Annie shrugged. ‘I’m not picky. Anything warm, sticky and comforting is good with me.’ Stack chuckled. ‘Oh, I got just the spot for you.’ The silence blanketed the car again, a warm, heavy comfort. The magnolia trees whizzing past until they pulled up to a catfish spot. Annie couldn’t help the chuckle that slipped out. Stack’s head whipped around at the sound, a dimpled grin already forming. ‘I got it right, huh?’ Annie smiles back at him. ‘Yeah, you did. I love catfish.’
Stack moved through the small restaurant like he owned the space. Dapping up regulars, hollering at the workers, exchanging pleasantries with the manager. ‘And who’s this pretty lady? Usually come up here by yo’self.’ Stack’s eyes swept over Annie like a caress. ‘This is Annie.’ The manager smiled warmly at Annie. ‘Well, Annie you welcome here. You want the regular for you and Ms. Annie here?’ Stack deferred to Annie. ‘You wanna take a look at the menu?’Annie shook her head. ‘I trust you. I’ll get what you’re getting.’ Another smile graced Stack’s face.’Two regulars please.’
Annie slid into one of the creased booths, Stack sliding in right after her. ‘Can’t believe….’ Stack laughed. ‘Me either. I’m sorry your car done gave up on you. But I can’t be that sorry because it brought you to me.’ Annie chewed her lip and looked away. ‘How long have you owned your garage?’ Stack shrugged. ‘A little over eleven years. It’s my pride and joy. Even when it stresses me out sometimes.’ Annie was quiet for a moment. ‘I’m glad you have that.’ Stack bumped Annie’s shoulder. ‘What’s your pride and joy?’ Now it was Annie’s turn to smile. ‘My son. He’s my everything. The reason why I keep going even when I feel like I can’t anymore.’ Stack slides his hand to Annie’s, ‘if he’s anything like his mama, he must be fucking amazing.’ ‘Thank you’ Annie whispered. But before Annie could say anything more, the food came. Fried catfish with matchstick cajun fries, large ice teas and a spice mini gumbo that was big enough to be shared.
Stack didn’t eat much, just watched Annie eat, watched her move. ‘Boy, you crazy. Watching me eat like I’m on the national geographic.’ Stack continued to watch unapologetically. ‘Sue me for wanting to keep my eye on the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. Can you blame me?’ And there it was, Annie’s breath stalled in her chest again, but she ignored it. ‘You ain’t hungry?’
Stack’s gaze darkened. ‘Oh, I’m hungry alright. Real hungry.’ Annie was entrapped in his gaze, a mixture of lust and adoration. ‘In fact, I’ve been hungry since you swung into my garage. Hips swaying, hair bouncing. I guarantee you no bowl of gumbo gon’ leave me satisfied.’ ‘Yeah?’ Annie asked breathily. ‘Yeah’ Stack growled back, one of his big warm hands sliding up her pedal pushers to unzip her pants. ‘Stack-’ ‘Shhhh. Quiet, baby.’ Annie’s thick thighs immediately squeezed Stack’s hand, attempting to trap him there. ‘Uh-uhn. Open up for me, baby. Don’t hide. Lemme feel what I’ve been dreaming about. ‘Here?’ Annie had never heard her voice sound so small, so shaky. ‘Right fuck here. Open up, don’t make me ask again.’ Annie’s legs slowly opened at the sound of Stack’s commanding tone. Stack moved his hand to cup Annie’s mound, he could feel the wetness without even putting his hand down her cotton panties.
‘Fuck, Annie you feel so good. You gonna let me feel this pretty pussy right here?’ Annie nodded quickly, so close to coming already, she felt like she was coming apart at the seams. ‘Nah baby, lemme hear you. Speak to me.’ ‘Yes, Stack. Touch me. Please’. ‘That’s what I like to hear.’ Stack finally finally reached into her panties and just pet her at first, before sinking his pointer and middle finger into her. Annie chased the feeling before Stack’s other hand reached under the table to keep her still. ‘Don’t move. Move again and I’ll stop’. Annie whimpered.
Stack was losing his mind. Annie was welcoming, so wet. She clenched around him, pussy greedy for him, afraid he would leave. His thumb came up to rub her clit and she gasped. ‘Fuck, Stack-’. ‘Shh. Quiet. I wanna hear this pussy speak to me, don’t interrupt. Just listen. OK, sugar?’ Annie nodded jerkily. ‘Good girl. You feel so perfect. This is what you’ve been sitting on? Fuck, you’re so good for me. She’s so good for me. Oooh you’re tightening on me? You’re gonna cum? You’re gonna make me happy and cum? Do it. Do it right now. Cum on my fingers right here.’ Annie is losing her mind, Stack’s voice in her ear a hypnotizing presence. His fingers feel so good, stroking her expertly, drawing out tiny moans from her, he presses on her clit again and she cums harder than she can remember and all the while Stack’s voice is in her ear, urging her on.
‘Yes. Cum for me, gimme all that shit, that shit belongs to me. Goddamn girl, that feels so good.’ Annie is still cumming, she can’t stop cumming. Here, in this restaurant with people milling about. Stack doesn’t care, he prolongs it, pressing on her clit again until Annie starts to sweat, moisture frizzing her edges, her eyes growing hazier. Eventually, Stack’s guides Annie back down into reality, drawing his fingers out of her tight, perfect warmth. He puts his fingers inside his mouth and sucks, eyes closed, moaning at how good Annie tastes. Annie looks at Stack like he’s an alien. Without breaking his gaze, he flags down a waiter, pays for their food and practically drags her out of the restaurant.
Stack had thought ahead, he had parked way at the back of the parking lot. He pushed Annie up against his car, shoving his tongue into her mouth, and Annie could taste herself, just slightly on his tongue. Stack dragged his mouth across her neck,biting her ear lobe and rutting against her, before kissing back up to her mouth. Their tongues wrestle for dominance, Annie biting his lower lip and dragging it out. Stack’s hips buck up at that, his hard length pressing into Annie’s pedal pushers, moaning at Annie’s lead. Stack eventually tears himself away from her. ‘Get in the back. I can’t wait any longer. I need to taste you.’ Annie shakily opens the door, letting herself in.
Stack drags Annie’s pedal pushers off, her panties falling away next. He kisses up her thick, plush thighs. Annie’s skin is just as silky smooth as he remembers from the club. He pushes her legs apart and is in awe of what he saw. Looking at her pussy, he knew this was it. He was fucked for life. It was perfect. Lush, with two delicate inner lips, framed by fat outer lips. She had a light sprinkling of hair all over, her clit peeked out hard and dripping with moisture, and it called to him. ‘Stack, come taste, Stack, bury yourself in me, Stack stay here until this is your home, Stack make me cum, Stack, own this, it’s yours, it’s nobody else’s baby.’ Stack spread Annie a little wider and licked her, from top to bottom. Annie’s hips immediately lifted up but not for long, because Stack immediately slammed her back down. Her cries were like music to his ears. His tongue licked, sucked, teased. He took her clit into her mouth and sucked hard and Annie screamed. ‘Stack! Fuck, fuck, fuck. I cant’t-’ Stack lifted his head from between her thighs ‘you can, and you will. Open for me, You taste so good. You gon’ feed me this pretty pussy?’ He asked Annie, his two fingers coming up to play with her again, moving them inside her with a come hither motion. ‘Yes, yes, Stack, I-’ ‘Hmmm, thank you baby. Sweetest fucking pussy I’ve ever had. I knew it would be, you know that? You taste so good. You feel so good’ Stack slurs, completely pussy drunk on Annie. He buries his face in Annie’s pussy, sucking everywhere, sucking her clit like a ripe plum and Annie wails, delirious from the pleasure.
Stack rears back and spits on Annie’s pussy, the saliva dripping down her slit like a jewel before Stack slurps it up, greedy for her taste. He wiggles his head from side to side, groaning. Annie’s thighs begin to shake again. Stack can feel her orgasm coming on and he attacks her clit again before pulling back to shove his fingers into her once again so he can look up at her and watch her fluffy tummy flex. ‘Are you gonna cum for me again, Annie? C’mon, mama drown my fingers. Fuckin’ baptize me. Gimme it, it’s mine.’ Annie isn’t even moaning anymore, the pleasure has her mute, her brain is shut off and then she feels it. Heavier than before, eyes rolling back. It’s heavy, it’s lush, and then it arrives. A rush, a flood and it coats Smoke’s hand, all the way to his wrist, soaking the seats, close enough to soak Smoke’s face. ‘Fuck, mama. That’s it, drown me’.
Stack’s mouth latches onto Annie’s pussy again, drinking down her squirt like it’s elixir from on high. Stack slowly drags her underwear up, both of them shaking. Annie reaches out and kisses Stack, the only anchor in the storm he created. ‘Take me back to your place.’ ‘Are you sure? Your-’ Annie nods. ‘He’s spending the night with a friend. Take me.’ The drive back to Stack’s house was quiet. Annie couldn’t tell you what Stack’s house looked like, her eyes were solely focused on him. He gently took her hand and led her through his house to his bedroom, undressing her slowly. He uncovered each inch of her with reverence, hands holding and molding her heavy breasts before drawing a nipple into his mouth, causing Annie to gasp and moan. ‘Fuck, you’re so responsive.’ He drags off her pedal pushers and panties again for the second time in the night, but before he could start undressing himself, Annie stopped him.
‘I wanna do that’. Stack gave her a jerky nod.
Annie pulls off his black hanes, his body was built, muscles created not just from pushing weight at the gym, but from lifting heavy things, a functional weight under a light layer of cushioning. A body that was built for comfort and strength. She dragged off his pants, kneeling in front of him, his dick mouth wateringly thick and long, but not overwhelming. Annie’s mouth watered, she looked up at Stack. ‘Can I?’ Annie asked, rubbing the bulge in front of her. ‘I wish you would’. Annie pulled him out, licking him from base to tip, Stack letting out a loud groan. His tip was smeared with precum and Annie lapped at him, sucking the head and his taste was heady, addicting. Something in her mind just…slipped. Annie held him at the base and sucked him all the way down. ‘Annie…shit, your mouth.’ Annie held him there for a moment, her mind going quiet, swallowing around him. She pulled off of him, strings of spit linking her lips to his dick, Annie looked up at Stack, eyes low, mouth greedy. She licked all along his length like a candy cane before sucking his tip again, Stack’s legs buckling.
‘Fuck my face, Stack’ Annie said, voice wrecked from taking Stack deep into her mouth. ‘Annie-’ ‘Please, Stack, I want it.’ Stack growls, places both hands on Annie’s head and guides himself into Annie’s mouth again. ‘Tap me three times on my thigh if you want me to stop. OK, baby?’ Annie nods, mouth full of dick and sucks around him. ‘Hmmm you’re so good.’ Stack begins slowly fucking Annie’s face, talking the whole time. ‘This what you needed, huh? Needed someone to fuck that pretty face? Needed me to fuck that face? Pretty face to match that pretty ass pussy you got. I’m gon’ wreck that muthafucka. You hear me, Annie?’
Annie wasn’t hearing much of anything, too much of in a trance. She was obsessed with how he tasted, how he felt in her mouth, the continuous stream of precum in her mouth. She loved his dick and how he felt. She tapped three times and Stack pulled out immediately, ‘Are you ok, Annie-’ ‘I want my mouth to be your favorite place to cum, I’m gonna want this dick all the time. It’s so perfect, Stack, I love it, I-’ Annie cut herself off with a moan, going back to licking him up like he was her favorite dessert. Stack couldn’t believe his eyes. Annie wasn’t just sucking his dick, she was making love to it. She moved to jacking him while she sucked each of his balls into her mouth. Stack’s hands tightened in her hair.
‘Good girl, keep doing that. You love this shit don’t you? Good little slut sucking my balls, I ain’t even gotta tell you. I know you gonna be so good for me when I have you bouncing on my dick later.’ Annie just moans in response. Eyes rolling back again, turned on by Stack’s promise. Stack notices that Annie has been dripping onto the floor this whole time. ‘Shit, you drippin’? You like sucking me that much?’ Annie pulls off again, ‘I love sucking you. Don’t want to ever stop. You gonna let me suck it when you’re stressed? When I’m bored? You gonna nut in my mouth? I want you to. I need it, I know you taste perfect’.
Stack pulls Annie off him, dragging her off the floor and onto his mouth. ‘Not yet. When I cum, it’s gonna be deep in you, baby. I’m clean, I haven’t been with no one in a long time. ‘Me too’ Annie replied breathlessly. Stack nods, slaps Annie’s thick ass. ‘Get on the bed’. Annie crawls onto the bed and spreads herself open, rubbing her clit. Stack bites his lower lip and follows her, resting slightly on top of her. He taps his dick on her clit and her hips jump up to meet him. He keeps sliding his dick through her warm, sticky mess. ‘Please Stack. I need it.’ ‘Oh, you’re gonna get it, don’t you worry.’
Stack slowly makes his way into Annie’s pussy. ‘Shit baby, this pussy is amazing’. Annie is shaking beneath him, the moment he bottoms out, she’s coming. Stack’s eyes grow wide. ‘Are you fucking coming? Shit’. He rears back, gathers her legs over his shoulders and slams into her. Annie screams. ‘Oh my God. Stack!’ Stack doesn’t answer, just continues slamming into Annie.
Over.
And over.
And over.
Annie begins to lose the concept of time and space, her moans begin to climb higher in pitch. Stack drags one of her pretty toes into his mouth and sucks, and Annie squeals. ‘Oh my God, Daddy why you fucking me like that?’ Stack releases her toe with a pornographic pop. Kissing and licking her ankle, his hips continuously slamming into Annie, the sounds of flesh smacking together a surround sound. He grins down at Annie. ‘What was that, babygirl?’ He swivels his hips and Annie bucks hers.
‘Daddyyyyy, oh my goddddddddddddd. Don’t stop, don’t stop. Don’t stop.’
‘That’s right and I ain’t gon’ stop. Why would I stop fucking my pussy? This my pussy right? Huh?’ Stack began dropping his dick into Annie in a scooping motion, Annie screamed so loud, she could wake the dead. ‘Answer me, babygirl. This my pussy?’
Yessssssss. It’s your pussy! Daddy! Daddy, PLEASE’. Stack pulled out abruptly, and flipped Annie onto her stomach. Stack smacks Annie’s ass, spreading it apart. He was greeted by the most beautiful sight, pussy all swollen from the pounding he blessed it with, her asshole right above it, winking at him, calling to him the way her pussy did. ‘And what about this ass? This mine too?’ He didn’t give Annie a chance to answer, he simply buried his face in her ass, tongue tapping at her asshole while Annie lost her mind beneath him, he spat on it before inserting a finger in, moving it in and out. Annie’s back arched, drool desecrating the pillow beneath her.
‘Oh my god, Stack.’ Stack lifted up, slapping her ass. ‘Uh uhn,what’s my name?’ Stack growls. ‘Daddy! I’m sorry Daddy. Daddy, please. Daddy I wanna cum, Daddy I need to cum, I wanna cum in your mouth, I- I-.’ ‘Quiet.’ Stack responded, commanding. ‘I ain’t done tasting you.’ Stack kept eating Annie out, alternating between tonguing her down, and feeling her, like he couldn’t decide whether her loved the feel of her ass or the taste of her ass the most. Eventually, when Annie had cried so much she faced a serious threat of dehydration, he came up for air, lined himself up, and buried himself in her pussy again.
‘Fuck yeah that ass is mine, just like this pussy is mine.’ Stack jackhammered into Annie again, entranced by her perfect fucking arch, her ass clapping against him, her back shimmering from the fine sheen of sweat. ‘Daddy, I wanna ride you. Can I ride you, pleaseeeeeee daddy?’ ‘Anything you want, babygirl, anything…’ They switched positions, Annie slowly squatted over Stack, his dick being held straight up by her. She gently lowered herself onto his dick and let out a contented sigh. She began rocking back and forth, head thrown back, when she looked down at Stack, he looked worshipful, like a man who had just kissed the foot of God. Stack gripped her thighs and Annie started bouncing in earnest. ‘Daddy you feel so good, I want you to live inside me, Papa, fuckkkkkkk.’ Annie grabbed one of her tits and sucked her nipple into her mouth and when that wasn’t enough, she dragged one of Stack’s hands off her thighs and stuck two of his fingers into her mouth.’
‘Look at you, my perfect slut, can’t even be without your mouth occupied. That’s ok baby, I’m gonna feed you as much as you want. I’m gon make you cum over and over, because that’s what you need and that’s what my pussy deserves. That’s what you deserve.’ Annie chokes on a cry at Stack’s words. ‘You gonna cum again?’ Stack asks, completely aware that she’s mere moments from detonating. Annie nods frantically, Stack is mesmerized by the sight of his dick doing a disappearing act into what is now his favorite place in the world. His dick is now packed with froth at the base, his length coated in her cream, various shades of white. He pulls Annie down over him, her body and face angled towards him, taking over and pulling her down on his cream covered dick over and over again, playing in her ass again, rubbing the ring gently.
‘You’re gonna make me cum, you’re gonna make Daddy fucking cum. You gon’ cum with me, you gon’ cum while I paint this pretty, fucking perfect pussy?’ You better not give this pussy to no one, you hear me? This is MY pussy. Fuck, FUCK! Take it.’ Stack floods her pussy like a firehose, and Annie cums with him, shaking and crying. ‘Thank you Daddy, thank you, thank you, your cum feels so perfect to me papa. Drain that dick in me, daddy you feel so good, keep cumming in your pussy; it’s your pussy.’
Stack moans like he’s been punched in the gut. Annie’s greedy, welcoming warmth strangles his dick. He practically has the shakes.
Stack slowly withdraws from Annie and their cum dribbles out, so much of it, it’s impossible for it all to stay in Annie, Annie whimpers, sensitive in the comedown. ‘Shhhhh baby. I got you.’ Annie nods, too shaken to say anything. Stack goes to the bathroom, rinses a mini towel for Annie before heading back to the bedroom. Annie is still coming down, trembling slightly. He gently pushes Annie’s legs apart and cleans her inner thighs, but not her pussy. Annie raises an eyebrow. ‘Want you to stay full of me a lil longer’ Stack says lowly. ‘Stack-’ ‘I know, I know. I’m crazy.’ Annie shakes her head. ‘Not crazy. Come up here. Hold me a little bit before we get cleaned up for real.’
Stack climbs up onto the bed, drags Annie away from the wet spot and cages her in. Warm and solid, her scent enveloping him. He cradles her face with his huge hand. ‘I meant every word I said by the way. That wasn’t some in the moment shit.’ Stack kisses her, a promise, a seal. Annie presses her palm to his steady heartbeat. ‘I know’ she responds.’ Stack reaches down and squeezes one of her ass cheeks, eyes burning into hers. ‘Good.’ And despite the fact that Annie had just had parts of her unlocked by this man she was still discovering she felt something she hadn’t felt since before the foster homes, the fickle father of her child, the isolation of her blood relatives.
Summary: You pull your Michael, who’s been your celebrity crush for years. Only one problem—you’ve been writing fanfiction for years for the man, and now you have to find a way to keep your worlds separate. However, what happens when Michael finds out about your smutty little blog?
Warning(s): SMUT (18+, MDNI), smut writing, dirty talk, fingering, unprotected sex (m/f), deepthroating, spitting, cum swapping, daddy kink, backshots (if I missed something, don’t beat me up lol) I hope you guys enjoy. Let me know what you think!
You’d always found solace in fanfiction.
There was something so special about all of the stories that you’d read throughout the years about your favorite celebrities or your TV crushes. Your first introduction to fanfiction was Wattpad. Your friends had let you in on the coveted website and suggested it to you.
The first fanfic that your friend suggested just so happened to be a Mindless Behavior fanfic about Princeton. You were hooked. How had this world–this fandom–been escaping you for the past years?
Naturally, your relationship with the site continued to progress as you read more stories. You’d stay up till 2 AM just to read a story written by someone who was no doubt the same age as you.
Next, there was fanfiction.net.
You’d spent countless hours scouring through all of the Vampire Diaries fanfiction that you could get your hands on. You can’t recall the exact moment that you landed on Tumblr, but you knew that it just all clicked together for you.
The ‘x reader’ tag became your home.
You thoroughly enjoyed reading all of the stories about your crush on Zayn from 1D. With Tumblr, there seemed to be this brand new world of possibilities for you to read. However, there’s something that you’d noticed in your many hours of scrolling through Tumblr.
There weren’t many ‘x black!reader’s stories for you to indulge in. There was a handful of writers who’d become your solace when you looked to be shipped with a certain character or celebrity, but there weren’t many. You’d long grown tired of clicking on an interesting story only to have the reader be described as having long, flowy blonde or brunette locks that the male character could run his hands through. Similarly, you’d grown tired of reading smut where the reader was clearly described as having pale skin and pink nipples.
That wasn’t your story. As a black woman, you weren’t able to visualize yourself in these spaces or stories because they weren’t written with women like you in mind. To make matters worse, it seemed like fandoms were intent on erasing black women, who look like you, from the lexicon of the content.
It was all so draining and so very degrading.
Growing up, you’d always envisioned yourself as a writer. You loved stories, and reading was your way of escape. On sites like Wattpad and Tumblr, you could be transported to worlds and stories where you were the center of the story. There’d been many times when you opened up a Word document and started to type a story, only to never finish it.
For you, you compared yourself to other writers and their ability to write a compelling story. When you looked back at your own words on the paper, it felt like child’s play. So, you stopped writing. You subjected yourself to the role of an avid but silent reader who admires her favorite writers.
That was your role for a few years.
You’d silently heart the stories, but you were never brave enough to comment.
There were so many different stories in your head that you wanted to see on the platform. Silently, you wished that your favorite writers would somehow read your mind and bring the story to life without you asking. However, as the saying goes, “a closed mouth doesn’t get fed.”
The turning point for you was Black Panther.
You were there as the explosion of fanfics arose for Erik Killmonger, T’Challa, and M’Baku. What a time to be alive when all of your favorite writers were putting out work that should’ve been receiving some type of literary award. One night, after an hour of constantly reading about Erik Killmonger putting the reader through the mattress, you made your move.
You wrote and published your first-ever Tumblr fic.
As soon as you pushed the publish button, you immediately closed your laptop like it was an explosive waiting to detonate. You couldn’t bring yourself to go back and check to see what the reviews were.
What if they thought it was trash? What if your grammar was terrible? What if you didn’t capture the essence of the characters? What if no one read it all? For the sake of your mental health, you didn’t go back to check how your story was doing until two days later.
At the two-day mark, you found yourself logging back into Tumblr. You’d worked up the courage to see if there was any feedback. To your absolute shock and delight, people loved your story.
The hearts and comments overflowed as people asked for more. Thus, stargirlwriteswas born. Through your blog, not only did you give room for yourself to grow and see yourself be represented, but you made space for other black women to feel like they were being seen and heard. In your stories, the black women were always being loved on, worshipped, and cherished.
You’d grown a following and support system so big that you couldn’t imagine a future where you weren’t writing on Tumblr.
Honestly, you don’t know what to call what happened.
Fate. Coincidence. God.
You honestly have no clue, but this is the story of how you met your celebrity crush and bagged him. It started at the library–naturally. You liked the library. You liked coming to the library to work on your stories and your books. You’d recently been picked up by a publishing company to release your new Southern Gothic thriller. Between writing for your books and working on screenplays, you still found the time to work on writing on Tumblr.
There was no way you were letting your community down. Not after all of the support and love that they’d given you up to this point. In the library, you liked to sit at the back table that was conveniently away from everyone, but still, there was a giant window that allowed you to see outside.
It was the perfect spot.
No one had dared to venture into your self-proclaimed territory. Not until today.
You heard the light footsteps as they approached the back table and saw the man from the corner of your eye. He had a cap on his head, and from his body language, you could tell that he didn’t want to be seen. He was craving privacy just as you were.
The man looks over at you before clearing his throat, “Hey, I’m sorry if I’m disturbing you, but do you mind if I sit here? It’s just, I kind of want privacy, and this spot just seems like fewer people come here.”
There was a distinct nagging in your head that let you know that you knew his voice from somewhere, yet you brushed it off. Truthfully, you could’ve told the man no, but there was something inside you that begged you not to.
Plus, the table was huge, so it’d look a little weird if you were hoarding it for yourself.
“Yeah, of course.” You slide some of your scattered papers down towards yourself as the man takes a seat. After a few seconds, you and the man both begin working simultaneously on your projects. You can see him glancing over at you a few times, but you choose to ignore it.
From the corner of your eye, you see him take the hat off his head. He takes a tentative glance at you, but you still don’t entertain the notion of looking at him. For the next twenty minutes, the only sounds are you and the man typing on your computers and then writing down notes on your respective journals.
You finally look up and happen to glance in his direction and freeze.
You now understand why he was so adamant about hiding his face. You try not to freak out as you finally clock the fact that Michael B. Jordan is sitting across from you. The man whom you’ve had a crush on for years. And also the same man whom you’ve been writing the filthiest smut for. Talk about an embarrassing predicament.
Yet, you decide to play it cool. The last thing you want is for the man to think you’re fangirling over him when he’s trying to work.
Michael looks in your direction, “Hey, sorry to bother you again, but do you know where they keep the printers?”
You nod, “Yeah, they’re just around the corner. You can just click print, and it’ll ask for your name so that they don’t mix it up with anyone else’s papers.”
Michael nods at your instructions before giving you a sheepish smile, “Would you mind coming with me and helping? I just know I’ll forget everything at the printer.” He gives you a tight-lipped smile before quickly adding, “That’s if you’re free. I wouldn’t want to take you away from your work.”
“Sure. I got you,” You said, laughing a little before standing from your chair. Michael slides the cap over his head again before falling in step beside you. As expected, the printer is exactly where you said it would be. Michael leans over your shoulder to get a look at what you’re doing. A chill travels up the length of your spine at the feel of his body against yours. You can feel the heat from his body seeping into yours.
You bite your lip softly while peering up at him. Michael seems to notice the close distance and steps back. An embarrassed look crosses his face, “Sorry. I didn’t mean to all up in your space.”
“It’s fine.”
You click the file that has his name on it, and the papers start flowing from the printer. You grab them and hand the stack to Michael. The tips of his fingers brush against yours as he grabs the papers. You try to ignore the tingle that rushes up your skin at the feel of his skin. He gives you a quiet “thank you” before you both venture back to your corner of the library.
You take your seats at the same time.
Michael reaches across the table with his hand outstretched, “I’m Michael, by the way.”
You give him your name as you connect your hand with his. Internally, you’re freaking out at the fact that out of all days, you’re sitting across from your celebrity crush and practically holding his hand. The delusional part of you is telling you that he’s down bad for you, and this is the start of something beautiful. The writer part of you is mentally tracking all of the subtle movements that Michael makes with the full intent of incorporating them in your writing.
However, you quickly push those thoughts to the side because it feels a bit parasocial in a way.
You and Michael fall back into your rhythm of working on your projects. He looks up at you as you scribble down notes on your notepad. “What are you working on?”
You lift your eyebrows in surprise, “Just a play.”
“That’s neat. What’s it about?” Michael seems genuinely interested in your work as he leans further on the table.
“It’s a Southern gothic play about a young woman returning home to face her past trauma.”
Michael nods, “That sounds really dope. You planning to put it on Broadway?”
“Yeah, my agent and I have been working to get everything in motion.”
“Good luck. I’d like to come see it when you get it off the ground,” Michael said, sparing another dazzling smile in your direction.
You smile in response, “Definitely. What are you working on?”
Michael gives you a shy smile, deep dimples popping out of both cheeks, “I’m working on a romance, actually. It’s a story of two people who are married, trying to make it work, but somewhere along the line, their communication becomes lost. The only way that they know how to reach each other is by speaking through this new technology system.”
“That sounds like an amazing concept. You’re working on the script now?”
“Yeah, I’m just getting stuck on a few things, especially with my main woman lead. I’m struggling to get her voice just right, especially in the scene where they’re confronting each other,” Michael states, leaning back in his chair.
You bite your lip nervously, “I could read it if you wanted me to. I mean, I have experience writing romance, and I’m also an avid reader, so maybe I could give you a few pointers.” You’ll definitely leave out the part where you write avid romance and smut stories with him as the male lead.
“If you don’t mind, that’d be great. I’d hate to take you from your thing, though,” Michael responds.
You quickly shake your head, “No, I promise it’s fine. Plus, we writers have to stick together.”
Michael slides his laptop over in your direction before strolling to the part that he wants you to read. He unintentionally starts to watch you and your facial expressions as you’re taking in the work. Your eyes quickly skim across the work, and you make mental notes along the way until you stop at the point where Michael stopped typing.
He looks at you expectantly once you stop reading. “It’s good. The storyline that you’ve crafted so far in this scene is good. I like the tone, but I’m only getting one side of the argument. I’m hearing your male protagonist’s voice very clearly in this argument, but what about the female lead? What does she ultimately want to express in this argument?”
Michael takes a second, “She wants to feel heard. She wants him to understand that she hasn’t felt seen by him in a while in their relationship.”
“Good. You know your theme and intentions, but it’s not coming through in the scene. All I hear is his voice. Even the lines that you have for her, they’re still in line with his wants. Put yourself in her shoes and react. If you have a partner who hasn’t been meeting your needs, how would you respond as a woman?”
Michael goes through his brain for the answer. On some level, he knows how he wants it to go, but he’s still stuck. He gives you a helpless look, which makes you chuckle.
“How about this? You rewrite it again, and I’ll give you my critique.”
Michael nods before sliding the computer back towards himself. He takes your words into account and begins typing on the document again. He peers over the top of the computer as you continue scribbling in your notebook. You don’t catch the way that his eyes zoom in on the way that your teeth bite at the end of the pencil. He’s fascinated by you. You don’t even react to the fact that you clearly know who he is.
Little does Michael know, you’re having a full-blown panic attack on the inside.
After a solid twenty minutes pass, he stands and leaves the table. You expect to see that he’s packing up his things, but once you clock that all of his stuff is still here, you shrug. Maybe he had to go to the bathroom. A few minutes later, Michael plops into the seat with a handful of snacks.
Wordlessly, he slides a pack of Hi-Chews and chips in your direction. You stop writing and give him a questioning look. Michael shrugs, “To say thank you for your help.”
“What if I didn’t like Hi-Chews?”
“There’s a wrapper sticking out of your bag,” Michael points out, nodding his head towards your open laptop bag. You glance at the bag, and sure enough, a brightly-colored wrapper sticks out.
You can’t stop the laugh as it bursts from your lips, but you cover your mouth. Soon, Michael joins you in laughing.
“Let me take you out for a coffee after this.”
That’s the story of how you pulled your celebrity crush.
Your relationship with Michael surprises you each day. It really blows your mind that the man that you’ve been writing about for years is finally your boyfriend. Initially, you slow down on writing fics for Michael on Tumblr. It all feels a bit parasocial, especially when you’re with him most of the time.
But that still doesn’t stop the writer in you.
The more you fall for Michael, the more ideas pop into your head for possible stories. However, you channel the energy into working on writing your own novels. You really try to fight the urge to write on Tumblr. But the Tumblr app on your phone calls to you like the green goblin mask.
It only takes one specific kiss from Michael, with him pressing you against an elevator wall, to run to Tumblr. The community that you had built over the past years all express how happy they are to have you back, and you fall back into posting naturally.
Most of the people reading your writing would never suspect that you’re Michael’s new beau.
‘@donwrites: ugh sis, you write Michael so good! It’s like you know him personally.’
If only they knew that you had been kissing the man seven days out of the week and cuddling in his bed.
You keep the writing from Michael. If you’re typing at his house, you’ll play it off as working on a new novel or screenplay. He’s none the wiser to the fact that his girlfriend is writing the most downright filthy smut involving him.
It’s a random Thursday when Michael gets suspicious.
He’d invited you over under the guise of working together. You both found that you were a lot more productive when you worked across from each other. You slide the glasses up the bridge of your nose as you type quickly on the computer. You’re honestly in a flow state with the current story that you’re writing about Michael. You’d had the idea to write a story about him dominating the reader after a recent miscommunication.
You move to exit the bedroom. Sharp tears sting at your eyes as the heat builds in your chest. You sniffle loudly and wipe furiously at your eyes. The ache in your chest increases with each step that you take towards the door. You’re so close to the door when Michael grabs your arm. You try in vain to tug your arm from his grip, but he tightens his hold on you.
“Michael, let go of me,” You mutter, your chest heaving up and down.
“No, you don’t get to walk away. I don’t know about any of them other niggas you’ve been dealing with, but we talk things out around here. Go sit down,” He states, a hard edge to his voice.
You shoot him a hard look, defiance swirling through your irises. Michael matches your stance and squares his shoulder as he stares down at you, “You think I’m playing?”
He takes a step closer, his eyes growing darker. He moves until he’s standing chest-to-chest with you. Michael moves a hand up to your face and smushes your cheeks between his fingers. Your wide eyes meet his as he brings his face closer to you.
“Does it look like I’m playing with you?”
You give him a surp––
“What you working on over there, baby?” Michael questions from his side of the office.
You give him an awkward smile. How does one say, “Oh, nothing, babe, just writing out some nasty smut involving you for some equally freaked out women to read?”
Instead, you just respond, “Oh, nothing. Just some romance stuff.”
It’s not a lie, but it’s not the complete truth either. Michael doesn’t push the issue. He’s asked to read some of your writing before. You’ve obliged and let him read the things that aren’t fanfiction. Though he suspects that you may be writing something else that you don’t want him to see.
Michael’s not dense. He’s well aware of the rise of smut and spicy scenes in the book community. He figures that you may be writing something along that vein, but he respects you too much to pry. Though he secretly wonders what freaky stuff you could be writing.
The sex between you and Michael was good. Real good. However, there were certain aspects that you and Michael had explored. For example, he didn’t know about your desire to be dominated by him. He didn’t know about all of the nasty and explicit things that you imagined him doing to him. With Michael, he was very sensual and emotional in the act of sex, which you loved.
But you also yearned for him to turn you every way but loose.
For the next ten minutes, you type more for the story, including starting on the smut scene. You’re genuinely reaching flow state when your phone vibrates on the couch.
“I’ll be back, my agent is calling,” You said to Michael. He nods before looking down at his own computer. You minimize the Tumblr tab before exiting the room.
Once you leave the room, Michael can’t help the way that his eyes gravitate over to your laptop. The MacBook Pro is practically calling him to take a look. Maybe just a quick peek. He tiptoes across the room and lifts the top of the laptop. He peeks through your folders, including the one labelled “stories.” There’s nothing out of the ordinary there. It’s all the stories and screenplays that you’ve let him read.
He suspects he was overthinking and is about to close your computer when he notices your web browser is still open. Michael slides the mouse over to the open tab and quickly clicks on it.
Tumblr.
Now what’s this? His curiosity gets the better of him, and he browses through the website. He’s surprised when he sees stories popping up about himself. He clicks on the “Michael B. Jordan x black!reader” tag and feels like the world shifts for him. There’s a myriad of things here. Some sweet stories, but his intrigue goes up when he sees the NSFW stories.
Michael looks off to the side where there’s clearly a profile and clicks “view blog.”
dollhousewrites.
Is this you? He clicks on the post labelled Masterlist and finds that you have an extensive body of work. Michael clicks on the post labelled with his name and realizes that there are a lot of stories about him. He clicks on the most recent post from two weeks ago called “Terms and Conditions.”
Just as he’s about to start reading, he hears your footsteps approaching. He quickly airdrops the link to himself before closing your laptop and sitting at his desk.
He’s the picture of perfect innocence as you enter the room. He smiles at you, “Hey, is everything okay?”
“Yeah, she just wanted to let me know that my publishers want to talk about my next book release for the fall,” You respond, giving him a wide smile.
“That’s great, baby. I’ll take you out tomorrow so we can celebrate,” Michael said, and he meant it. Even when you were both still forming a friendship, he watched how hard you worked on your books and screenplays. You were careful with which details you ingrained in your characters. He’d forever be talking about how you’re his favorite writer, and how he has one of the world’s greatest writers as his girlfriend.
Still, he yearns to know more about you, and that starts with delving into your Tumblr stories.
That night, while you’re sleeping next to him in bed with your back turned, Michael pulls up the Tumblr link on his phone. He strolls through the stories again and starts from the beginning of what he learned is called “a masterlist.” Your initial stories are centered more around Erik Stevenson. You truly capture the essence of what makes the character tic. The recklessness and die-hard mentality for his cause. Michael thinks that you may understand Erik better than he does.
As he progresses through your masterlist, he clocks the different eras of his career that you write for. Hell, you’d even written about Vince Howard from a college perspective. He notices the shift once he enters his Sinners era. The works are a lot more mature and erotic. It’s during this part that he reaches the stories that you’ve personally written about him.
He clicks on Terms and Conditions once again. He’s sucked into a world where you’ve characterized him down to the tee. You’ve incorporated some of the subtle mannerisms that you’ve noticed him doing from your time of dating him.
He even catches a few of the phrases that he commonly says in the story. It’s when he makes it to the smut portion of the story that things shift for him. Michael feels the heat rising within his chest and traveling further down.
Michael removes his head from between your legs, your juices shining all over his mouth. He presses one last lingering kiss to your pulsing clit. You whimper at how sensitive you are. He gives you a dark smile, hunger swirling beneath his brown irises, “You taste so good, baby.”
“Please, Michael,” You beg, doe-eyes desperately begging for more.
Michael brings his hand up to encircle your pretty neck, “What do you need from me, baby? Just tell me, and I’ll give it to you.”
“I want you to fuck me, daddy.”
He groans at the sound of your desperate words and gently lays you back on the counter. Chills run through your body at the cool marble pressing against your heated skin. Michael takes the moment to look at you, naked and vulnerable, in his hands. Love bites litter the expanse of your skin from where he got greedy earlier. He takes both of your thick thighs in his hands and pulls you closer to the edge of the counter.
He crudely slaps his dick across your pearl as you flinch from the pleasure.
“You don’t want me to be nice to you tonight,” He inquires. You shake your head. You always liked him when he toed the line between cruel and permissive. Michael gathers the spit in his mouth and lets it drip down on your pussy. He slides his dicks through the mess, combining it with the slick that he’s oozing from you.
He takes the tip of his dick and notches it in your––
You shift in the bed and turn on your side to face him. Michael all but jumps out of his skin as he quickly locks his phone and glances to see if you’ve caught him. Peering closer, he lets out a deep sigh of relief once he concludes that you’re still sleeping.
He takes a second to just breathe. He’s never felt so overwhelmed by reading something. Is this what you wanted him to do to you? He’s dabbled here and there with some rough play and kinks in his sexual life, but he can’t recall a specific moment where he’s allowed himself to fully lose control and just give in. He spares you another glance and fully looks at the content expression on your face. His sweet girlfriend has been writing all this filthy stuff right under his nose.
By the way that his dick is straining against his brief, he concludes that he likes it just as much as you and your readers do.
Michael’s being weird, and that’s putting it lightly because he’s naturally kind of weird at home. No, this is different from his usual weird behavior. He’s been a lot more clingy, which you definitely don’t mind. But he’s been crowding your space more and seemingly more horny for you, which again you aren’t complaining, but you wonder where the shift came from.
Even now, as you both leave the after-party of an event that he was invited to, he’d been all over you. Throughout the night, he kept his grip tight on your waist and would frequently press kisses to the side of your neck.
Now, inside the car, he reaches across to rest his hand on your thigh, which isn’t unusual for him. However, you clock the way that his hand slides up the apex of your thighs, where your dress has shifted. Michael grips your thigh as he keeps his eyes on the road.
“Are you okay?” You ask, which makes him jump in surprise.
Michael looks down and clocks where his hand is. He goes to remove his hand until you place yours over his to keep it there.
“I’m sorry, am I making you uncomfortable?” Michael asks, worry filling his eyes. You always admired that about Michael. He was a gentleman through and through, and consent was always key with him.
“You’re not making me uncomfortable. I’m just asking if you’re okay. You’ve been crowding me all week. At the party, you were all over me. Now, I’m not complaining, but I could swear you’re ovulating,” You said, smiling widely at him.
Michael shrugs, “I can’t help it. You just look so sexy.”
He chooses the moment to venture further up where his fingers brush against your panties, which are growing wetter by the second. He peeks over at you, “Take them off for me.”
You give him a surprised look, to which he smirks, “Just humor me, babygirl.”
You slide your hands under your dress and tug your panties down your legs. Michael opens his hand to you and gestures with his eyes for you to put the panties in his hand. You oblige, and your jaw drops when you see him bring the wet material up to his nose.
“Open your legs,” He orders.
You spread your legs, but try to scooch down so that you’re not dripping down on his leather seats. Michael smacks his lips, “Baby, don’t worry about making a mess. That’s the whole point. I wanna smell your pussy on my seat the next time that I get in here.”
You’re clutching at your invisible pearls. Michael guides his hand back to your wet center and trails his fingertips up and down to gather your wetness on his fingertips. He slides two fingers across your clit and rubs circles across the throbbing pearl. Your pretty lips form a pout as the whimpers drop from your mouth. Moving down, Michael’s fingers dip in and out of your entrance as you roll your hips to meet his touch.
Michael bites his lip at how needy you are. It’s turning him on more knowing that he can’t fully watch you how he wants, but he has to rely on his touch and hearing. “Spread your legs wider for me, baby.”
You open your legs, and truthfully, you can’t pretend to be shy with your pussy out in his car. Michael plunges two fingers inside your dripping hole. Loud wet noises fill the car as he curls his fingers in and out of you. He presses the palm of his hand into your clit. You throw your head back against the seat as you loudly moan. You clutch at his hand, and Michael’s even more turned on; he clocks you humping against his hand.
The driveway to his house appears, and he turns to you briefly, “Go ahead and cum for me, babygirl.” He curls his fingers across your spot, and soon, your walls tighten as your release consumes you. Michael pulls into the driveway and has the pleasure of watching as you ride your release out. His eyes wander over your form as your breasts press against the dress. As you come down, your eyes meet his. He gently pulls his fingers from you, which are drenched with your release. Michael slides his fingers up to his mouth and sucks your juices from his fingers.
He makes a big display of it by closing his eyes and moaning. Once he opens his eyes, he catches your lustful stare. “Come on, we’re not done yet.”
Inside the house, you and Michael are all over each other. Hands messily groping at each other as he slams you against the wall. You can see the brief moment that he pauses, afraid that he’s hurt you, but you smile widely at him. He leans closer until his breath ghosts over your lips, “You don’t want me to be nice to you tonight.”
You freeze. Your confused eyes meet Michael’s as he smirks at you.
“Pause,” You state, pushing gently at his chest. He sets you down on your feet before you move to create distance between yourselves.
You rack your brain at how he could know that sentence. That sentence of all the possibilities of things that he could’ve said to you. Michael waits patiently on the other side of the room for you to make the connection.
You groan loudly, “You read my story, didn’t you?”
Michael looks like a little boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar. He tries in vain to appear aloof, but he fails miserably. “Yeah, that night your agent called. I was just curious about what you were writing. I didn’t mean to disrespect your boundaries. I’m sorry.”
You bite your nails, a nervous habit of yours that Michael had been helping you break.
“No, I’m the one who should be sorry. I mean, this is so embarrassing. You literally found out that I’ve been writing fanfics about you, and I’m dating you!” You exclaim. You begin pacing back and forth in the room until you move to walk towards the door.
Michael frowns and quickly crosses the space to stop you, “Why are you leaving?”
He frowns even more when he sees the tears in your eyes. Guilt courses through his body. He steps in front of you and grasps your face in his hands, “Baby, I’m really sorry. I wasn’t trying to embarrass you or anything like that. This is on me, I shouldn’t have been snooping through your stuff. But I just wanted you to know how much I liked it and to incorporate some of it.”
You sniffle and frown at him, “What? You liked reading my story?”
“Yeah, you know I always like reading whatever you write. If anything, I was flattered that you put that much work into writing for me and my characters. The way you write me, baby, I’ve never seen myself that way. It turned me on, to be honest.”
“Really?”
“Mhmm. I keep going back to read all of your stories over.” He pauses to laugh, “I even created an account to start liking your stories.”
You think back to your recent follows and laugh loudly, “Boy, are you bakari87?”
Michael laughs before nodding, “Yeah, mbjlover was already taken.”
There’s a moment of silence before you both break into laughter. Michael looks at you before pressing his lips to yours. “I mean it when I say that I really liked it, babygirl. I was kind of hoping that we could recreate some of the moments from your Terms and Conditions story.”
“You really liked that one?”
“Yeah, the part about me spitting on the reader’s pussy really did it for me.” He slides his hand down to close around your throat. Your eyes move to meet his as the heat floods throughout your body.
Michael keeps his hand around your throat as he carefully navigates you toward the couch. He gestures for you to take off your heels, which you do. With the heels off, it adds to the height difference between the two of you. He navigates behind you to toy with the zipper of your dress. The sound of the zipper fills the room as you can feel the excitement building in your core.
The dress falls to your feet as you stand naked before Michael. He runs his across your figure, taking in all the details that he’d committed to memory. Once he’s in front of you, he roughly grabs your face in his hands and smushes your cheeks together.
“This is the part where you have fucking the reader’s throat. Let’s start there,” He orders gently. You nod obediently and sit on the couch. You go to button his pants when he stops you, “You can’t remember your own story, babygirl? You open my pants with your mouth.”
Your mouth waters as you remember the plot point. Moving forward, you run your face across his bulge. You mouth at the button and move your head to the side to pop it open. You look up at Michael through your lashes as you grasp the zipper between your teeth and move down. Michael is nice enough to remove his pants for you.
He grabs the back of your head and presses your face into his covered dick. You mouth at his covered dick, your spit staining the front of his briefs. Kissing upwards, you lick at the happy trail of hair leading down into his briefs. Grasping the fabric between your teeth, you pull the briefs down until Michael’s dick is finally exposed to the air.
“Let me feel your throat, baby,” Michael mutters. You shudder at the realization that he’s quoting directly from your story. You don’t even need directions for your next actions. You lick along the underside of his dick right along the pretty vein that runs through it.
Your lips close around the tip of Michael’s dick, where his precum covers your taste buds. You suck at his sensitive tip as he groans and throws his head back. You move your mouth down to begin bobbing up and down on his dick. Your hand follows to cover the base where your mouth doesn’t reach.
Michael curls his hand through your hair and pulls you back, “Stick your tongue out.”
You do, and he leans down to release a trail of spit into your waiting mouth. Your eyes flutter as you moan at the filthiness of the act. Michael guides you back to his dick, but this time it’s different. You cross your arms behind your back just as you had written in your story. Michael looks down at you for consent, and you gladly give it.
The first push of his dick makes you gag a little. He pauses to let you adjust. You nod in his hold, and he resumes thrusting. You breathe through your nose as he enters your throat. Spit from your mouth drips onto your breasts and the floor. Tears fill your eyes as your mascara begins to run. Michael looks down and moans loudly, “You look so beautiful, Princess. You’re doing so good for Daddy.”
Pleasure sparks through Michael’s body at the whole scenario. It turns him on even more with how much you trust him to use you like this. Feeling bold, he pushes your face down so that your nose is engulfed in his pubes. You breathe through your nose and moan around his dick as it settles in your throat. Michael shudders at the feel of your warm throat. After a few seconds, he pulls out of your mouth completely.
He looks down at you again as you give him a wide smile. Tear, spit, and mascara streak across your face, but to Michael, you’ve never looked more beautiful.
He helps you to stand as he lifts you in his arms. You see him walking to the counter, and your pussy clenches in anticipation. Gently, he lays you across the marble counter. He quickly discards his shirt before moving between your legs.
“Please, Michael,” you beg, wide eyes meeting his.
“What do you need from me, baby? Just tell me, and I’ll give it to you.”
“I want you to fuck me, daddy.”
He pulls you closer to the edge of the counter. He takes both of your thick thighs in his hands and pulls you closer to the edge of the counter. Just like the story, Michael gathers the spit in his mouth and deposits it crudely on your wet center. He slaps his dick across your clit where the spit landed and rubs the mess in with your combined slick.
Only this time, he won’t be getting interrupted.
He guides his tip to your entrance, and you both watch as he slips inside your warm walls. Your combined moans fill the empty kitchen as Michael’s thigh touches the back of yours. He pulls back and watches as pussy clings to him. His dark eyes find yours, “You see that? Pretty pussy is begging to keep me in.”
A deep breath leaves your mouth as he thrusts back in. Michael covers your body with his as he thrusts in and out of you.
“Michael..” you whine, once he lifts one of your legs to hang over his shoulder.
“I know, baby. You’re doing so good for me,” He responds, connecting his lips to yours. You whimper as he pulls out of you. You can feel your walls clenching in response to the loss.
Michael maneuvers your body from the counter and bends you over. You shiver as your nipples brush against the cool surface. You look back as Michael lines his tip up with your opening again, “I wanna see that pretty ass bounce on me.” You arch your back in the way that you know he likes, which makes him groan.
Michael slides inside you as he watches your backside ripple under his thrusts. You look back at him as you start thrusting back against him. Michael’s gaze is focused on the motion of your ass and the ring of cream that’s coating the base of his dick.
“You’re so deep, baby,” You whimper.
Michael can feel his own release building inside of him. He grabs your hips to start thrusting again. He reaches under you to start stroking your clit. He leans over to your open mouth, and you stick your tongue out again. A string of spit leaves his mouth and falls into your waiting mouth. A loud cry leaves your mouth as your orgasm hits. You shake in Michael’s hold as tears trail down the side of your face. He kisses your tears and continues to thrust inside of you.
With one last stroke, Michael moans loudly at this own orgasm consumes him. His own body shakes against your own as he pulls you flush against him. You and Michael moan at the mutual feeling of his cum shooting against your womb. When he pulls out, his cum trails down your thighs.
You surprise him by dropping to your knees and taking his cum-stained dick into your mouth.
“Baby, wait..”Michael pleads, still sensitive from his own orgasm. You ignore him and keep bobbing your head while fondling his balls. Michael practically screams as he cums again, his white release painting your tongue.
You stand up, and Michael clocks that you haven’t swallowed yet. You gesture for him to open his mouth. Your own hand comes to close around his throat as you spit his cum back into his mouth. You don’t waste any time sliding your tongue into his mouth as you both swap the cum back and forth until it’s gone.
You both pull back as you give him a demure smirk.
“I hope you write that into the next story for all of your freaky followers,” Michael comments.
“Oh, I most definitely will. I’m sure that they’ll love to hear that their Oscar Winner loves the taste of his own cum,” You mutter against his lips.
Michael laughs, “I like it when it’s coming from you. But I’m not done with you yet. There are a few other stories that I wanna recreate, starting with your Sinner story.”
Let’s just say, the girls were treated to a lot more Michael content, approved by the man himself.
Y/N stood in front of her bathroom mirror, tilting her head as she blended the last bit of concealer under her eyes. She had been getting ready for almost an hour and a half now, which was kind of ridiculous for a group dinner, but she couldn’t help it.
Mariah the Scientist played softly from her speaker on the counter. She hummed along while sectioning off another piece of hair and wrapping it around the curling iron. Some curls turned out better than others, but she wasn’t about to start over. She ran her fingers through them to loosen everything up before she stepped back to check the overall look.
She grabbed the leopard print dress she’d laid out on her bed earlier and slipped it on. It hugged her body tighter than she remembered especially around her waist, hips, and ass. It was a little bold for a casual dinner, but she liked how it looked. She paired it with some gold hoops and a couple of thin necklaces, then stepped into her strappy heels.
She went back to the mirror for makeup touchups. Just as she was spraying on one last layer of setting spray, her phone lit up on the counter.
<Erik: I’m outside
Y/N’s stomach did a small flip. Her car was still at the shop, and when the group made dinner plans, Erik had casually offered to pick her up. She told herself it was no big deal, but after the night they spent together, being in a car alone with him already felt… loaded.
She quickly typed back:
<Y/N: Coming down now
She gave herself one final look in the mirror, sprayed a little more perfume on her neck and wrists, and smoothed down her dress again. Grabbing her small purse and phone, she took a deep breath before turning off the bathroom light and heading out the door.
Y/N stepped out of her building, the cool evening air hitting her legs right away. She shivered a little and adjusted her purse strap as she walked toward the street. Erik’s car was parked right in front, and he was leaning against the passenger door looking down at his phone.
When he heard her heels, he glanced up. His eyes widened slightly as he took her in — the leopard print dress hugging her body, the way it fit her chest, waist, and hips. He didn’t even try to hide that he was staring.
“Damn,” he muttered under his breath straightening up and putting his phone away. “You look good.”
Y/N felt her face get warm but tried to brush it off. “Thanks,” she said with a small laugh stopping in front of him.
Erik kept looking at her for a second longer, then stepped closer and leaned in, giving her a quick kiss on the lips. When he pulled back, Y/N smiled and reached up to wipe the gloss off his mouth with her thumb.
“You’re gonna have my gloss on you all night,” she teased lightly.
Erik just smirked. “I’m not tripping.”
He opened the passenger door for her. Y/N slid into the seat, tugging the hem of her dress down a bit so it wouldn’t ride up too much. The leather felt cool against her thighs. Erik closed the door, walked around, and got in on the driver’s side.
The car immediately filled with the smell of his cologne. He started the engine but didn’t pull off right away. Instead, he sat there for a moment and looked over at her.
“You really do look good tonight,” he said.
Y/N met his eyes for a second. That familiar tension from weeks ago settled between them again. She looked away first.
“Thanks,” she replied quietly. “We should probably head out before we’re late.”
Erik chuckled under his breath like he knew exactly what she was doing, but he let it slide… for now.
He finally pulled off, one hand on the steering wheel, the other resting dangerously close to her thigh as they headed to the restaurant.
The drive to the restaurant took about fifteen minutes. The car ride was mostly quiet, filled with low music and the occasional small talk, but the tension between them lingered in the air. Erik’s hand stayed close to her thigh the whole time, never quite touching but always reminding her he was right there.
When they finally pulled into the parking lot, the restaurant was buzzing with people. It was one of their usual spots. Erik found a parking spot and turned off the engine. He looked over at Y/N one more time, his eyes drifting down to her dress again before he shook his head with a small smirk.
“You really tryna test me tonight,” he muttered playfully.
Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide her smile. “Come on, let’s go before they start texting us.”
They got out of the car and walked toward the entrance together. Erik held the door open for her, and as soon as they stepped inside the warm lighting and noise of the busy restaurant hit them. They didn’t have to look far. The crew was already there, sitting in the large waiting booth near the front.
Jada saw them first. “There they go!” she called out waving them over.
Aaliyah turned around and smiled. “Y’all finally made it.”
Y/N smiled as they walked up. Jada stood up and pulled her into a hug first. “Hey girl… okay, this dress is cute. You look good!”
Aaliyah hugged her next. “For real, the leopard print looks nice on you. I like the curls too.”
Trey got up and gave her a quick side hug. “You clean up nice, Y/N. That dress is doing a little something,” he said with a grin, then dapped Erik up. “What’s good, bro?”
Erik gave everyone a casual hug and dap. “Y’all been waiting long?”
“Nah, like ten minutes,” Jada said. “But I’m starving.”
They all chatted casually while standing there.
After a couple minutes, the hostess came over with menus. “Party of five?”
“Yeah, that’s us,” Trey answered.
“Perfect, follow me. Your table’s ready.”
The group started walking behind the hostess toward the back. Y/N walked beside Erik, very aware of how close he was, but trying to act completely normal around everyone.
They finally reached their table toward the back of the restaurant. It was a long booth-style table that could easily fit all five of them. Y/N quickly slid into one end of the booth hoping to put some space between her and Erik. He seemed to have the same idea and sat near the opposite end leaving Jada and Aaliyah in the middle and Trey across from them.
The waiter came over shortly after. “Can I start you off with some drinks?”
They all placed their orders — iced tea for Trey, margarita for Jada, lemonade for Aaliyah, a Coke for Erik, and Y/N got a Sprite. The waiter then asked if they wanted any appetizers. After a quick discussion, they decided on mozzarella sticks and loaded nachos to share.
Once the waiter walked away, the conversation flowed easily like it always did. Jada was complaining about her job, Aaliyah was showing everyone pictures from her recent trip, and Trey was making everyone laugh with his dramatic storytelling. Y/N chimed in here and there, laughing at the jokes and trying to act normal, but she was very aware of Erik sitting across and a few seats down from her.
Suddenly, a woman’s voice cut through their conversation.
“Erik? Oh my gosh, hey!”
A pretty girl with long braids and a tight red dress approached their table. She completely ignored everyone else and walked straight up to Erik, leaning down to give him a hug.
“Kiana,” Erik said sounding surprised but friendly as he hugged her back. “What’s up?”
The rest of the group exchanged quick glances. Jada raised an eyebrow at Aaliyah. Trey tilted his head slightly. Y/N stayed quiet forcing a small smile while her stomach twisted.
Erik pulled back from the hug and looked around the table. “Y’all, this is Kiana. Kiana, this is Jada, Aaliyah, Trey, and Y/N.”
Kiana gave a polite wave to everyone, but when her eyes landed on Y/N, she paused for a second and gave her an unreadable look.
“Hey,” Kiana said simply before she turned her attention back to Erik. “I’m here with my mom actually. She’s sitting right over there.”
Erik glanced in the direction she pointed before he stood up. “Let me go say what’s up real quick. I’ll be right back.”
He slid out of the booth and walked off with Kiana toward her table, leaving the group sitting there in an awkward silence. Jada was the first to speak.
“Okay… who the hell was that?” she asked looking around the table.
Aaliyah raised an eyebrow. “Right? She came straight over like she owned him. And that hug was a little too comfortable.”
Trey leaned back in the booth. “ I’ve seen her around a couple times when we’ve been out with Erik. They used to mess around a little bit before he went overseas, I think. Not sure what it is now.”
Jada sucked her teeth. “Well, she was definitely acting like she still had some kind of claim. Did you see how she barely even looked at the rest of us?”
While the group continued whispering and speculating, Y/N stayed quiet. Her eyes drifted over to the table where Erik was standing. He was laughing at something Kiana’s mom said. Kiana was standing close to him, touching his arm as she talked, and Erik didn’t pull away. The three of them looked… comfortable.
Kiana suddenly glanced over in Y/N’s direction and caught her staring. A smug smirk tugged at the corner of Kiana’s lips before she turned back to Erik, laughing at something he said.
Y/N’s stomach twisted sharply. She quickly looked down at the menu in front of her pretending to read it even though the words were blurry. He’s not your man, she reminded herself. You have no right to feel like this. But the jealousy still sat heavy in her chest making her feel sick.
Trey, who had been watching her the whole time, noticed the shift in her expression.
“You good, Y/N?” he asked, voice low enough that the girls didn’t hear.
Y/N forced a small smile and looked up at him. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just hungry. I should’ve eaten something before we left.”
Trey nodded slowly, but his eyes stayed on her like he wasn’t fully convinced. Y/N hurriedly fixed her face, sitting up straighter and pretending to be interested in the conversation again. She didn’t want Trey or anyone catching on to what she was feeling.
A few minutes later, the waiter returned with their drinks and appetizers. He set everything down on the table with a friendly smile.
The group immediately jumped back into normal conversation, grabbing food and chatting about random things. But Y/N’s mind kept drifting back to Erik’s table across the room no matter how hard she tried to focus on the nachos in front of her.
A few minutes later, Erik finally made his way back to the table, rubbing his hands together as he slid into his seat with a grin. “Alright, I’m back. Y’all better not have ate up all the nachos while I was gone,” he said already reaching toward the plate in the middle of the table.
“Uh-uh, hold up,” Jada said quickly putting her hand out to stop him. “You just came from hugging that girl. Go put some hand sanitizer on before you touch anything.”
The whole table burst out laughing.
Erik laughed too, leaning back and holding his hands up. “Damn, it’s like that? Alright, alright.” He reached into his pocket, pulled out the small bottle of hand sanitizer he always carried, and rubbed some thoroughly on his hands. “Y’all happy now?”
“Much better,” Jada said.
Y/N laughed along with the rest of the group, but it felt forced. She was still trying to push down the irritation sitting heavy in her chest.
The waiter returned a short while later. “Alright, are we ready to order our entrees?”
They went around the table one by one. Jada ordered salmon, Aaliyah got shrimp tacos, Trey went with steak, and Erik ordered a burger with fries. When it was Y/N’s turn, she kept it simple. “Can I get the grilled chicken pasta with a side salad, please?”
Once everyone had ordered, Y/N set her menu down and stood up from the booth. “I’m gonna run to the bathroom real quick,” she said forcing a small smile. “I’ll be right back.”
Aaliyah started to stand up too. “I’ll go with you.”
Y/N shook her head quickly, already stepping away from the table. “No, I’m good. I’ll be right back, I promise.”
Aaliyah sat back down, giving her a slightly confused look but shrugging it off. “Okay, girl.”
Y/N turned and headed towards the restroom area needing a moment to collect herself.
Y/N pushed open the bathroom door and stepped inside. She walked over to the sink area and placed both hands on the cool countertop staring at her reflection for a moment. She took a deep breath.
He is not your man, Y/N. Get it together, she told herself firmly.
No matter how many times she repeated it, she couldn’t shake the image of Erik laughing and standing so comfortably with Kiana and her mom. The way Kiana had touched his arm so casually. The smirk she gave her across the room. It all sat heavy and uncomfortable in her chest.
She took another deep breath trying to push the thoughts away. “It’s not that deep,” she whispered quietly to her reflection.
She reached into her purse, pulled out her lip gloss, and carefully reapplied it. Then she fluffed out her curls with her fingers making sure they still looked good. She was just about to close her purse when she heard the bathroom door open behind her.
She didn’t turn around at first. But then a voice spoke, laced with fake sweetness.
“Interesting choice of outfit tonight.”
Y/N paused, then slowly turned to face her. Kiana was standing a few feet away as she leaned against the counter with her arms crossed, a smug little smile playing on her lips.
Kiana looked her up and down slowly. “Leopard print? You came dressed like you’re trying to catch somebody’s attention. It’s cute though.”
Y/N kept her expression calm even though her stomach tightened. She let out a dry laugh and tilted her head slightly.
“Actually, I just liked the dress,” she replied evenly. “Didn’t realize I needed your approval to wear it.”
Kiana’s smile didn’t falter. She took a small step closer. “I’m just saying… you’re really going all out tonight. Erik’s always had a type, and you showing up looking like that? A little try-hard, don’t you think?”
Y/N raised an eyebrow. She gave Kiana a slow once-over before replying with a slick smile.
“Try-hard? That’s funny coming from somebody who walked straight up to the table and ignored everyone else just to get to him. But don’t worry, I’m good over here. You enjoy the rest of your night with your mom… and whatever else you think you still have.”
She closed her purse with a soft click, gave Kiana one last look, and walked past her toward the door.
“See you around,” Y/N said over her shoulder before pushing the door open and stepping out.
—————————————————————————————
The rest of the dinner passed without any more incidents. The food eventually arrived, and the table fell into an rhythm of eating and light conversation.
By the time they finished eating, everyone was stuffed. Y/N, Aaliyah, and Trey asked for to-go boxes for their leftovers while Erik and Jada had cleared their plates completely.
They spent a few more minutes talking about their next hangout. After going back and forth, they settled on a backyard kickback at Trey’s place in two weekends.
Once the bill was paid and everyone gathered their things, they stood up from the table and made their way out of the restaurant together. In the parking lot, they exchanged their goodbyes before getting in their seperate cars.
Y/N walked quietly beside Erik toward his car. There was no conversation between them. It was just the sound of their footsteps and the distant noise of the restaurant behind them. The earlier tension still lingered in the air as they reached his car and got inside.
Erik opened the passenger door for Y/N like he always did. She slid into the seat without saying anything. He closed the door gently before he walked around to the driver’s side and got in. The car started with a low rumble and he pulled out of the parking lot, heading toward her place.
For the first few minutes, the ride was quiet. Then Erik reached over with his right hand letting it rest on her thigh like it was the most natural thing in the world. Before his fingers could settle, Y/N pushed his hand away firmly.
Erik glanced over at her confused. “What’s wrong with you?”
She didn’t respond. She just kept staring straight ahead with her arms crossed over her chest.
He took a deep sigh, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter. “Y/N… what’s wrong? Talk to me.”
Still nothing. Instead, she turned her body all the way toward the passenger window as she stared out into the passing streetlights.
Erik let out a frustrated breath. “You know I hate when you ignore me.”
Y/N shrugged slightly still refusing to look at him. Her eyes stayed fixed on the window.
He watched her for a second longer before shaking his head.
“Ok… bet,” he muttered.
He reached over and turned the volume up on the radio. Kendrick Lamar’s voice filled the car, the beat loud between them.
After a few minutes, she started noticing the turns Erik was making. These weren’t the right ones to get to her house. Her brows furrowed slightly as she opened her mouth to say something.
“Nah,” Erik said before she could get a word out. “Keep that mouth shut like you been doing the whole time.”
Y/N turned her head sharply toward him. “Fuck you.”
Erik let out a low chuckle, the sound very dark. He pressed down on the gas a little harder speeding up slightly as the streetlights blurred past.
“Oh, you lost it now,” he said.
They arrived at Erik’s house a couple of minutes later. He pulled into the driveway and put the car in park with more force than necessary. Before Y/N could even reach for the door handle, Erik was already out of the driver’s seat and rounding the car. He yanked open the passenger door.
“Get ya ass out now,” he said grabbing her arm and pulling her out of the car. It wasn’t overly rough, but it was firm enough that she stumbled slightly on her heels.
“Erik, get off me,” she snapped trying to pull her arm away from his grip.
He didn’t listen. He kept hold of her as he slammed the car door shut and quickly unlocked the front door of his house. The second they stepped inside, he closed the door hard behind them and immediately pinned her against the wall in the hallway.
His body pressed firmly against hers, one hand still gripping her arm while the other planted flat against the wall beside her head.
“Who the fuck you think you talking to like that?” he growled.
Before she could answer, he kissed her roughly, his hand sliding from the wall to grip the back of her neck. Y/N fought against it at first, turning her head away.
“Stop,” she said pushing at his chest. “Go kiss that bitch Kiana instead.”
Erik froze. He pulled back just enough to look at her, his expression shifting from anger to something softer. He studied her face carefully.
“Is this what all of this is about?” he asked.
Y/N avoided his eyes and looked down at his chest instead. She didn’t answer.
“Baby, look at me,” he said softly.
She slowly lifted her gaze. When their eyes met, he could see the tears forming in hers.
Erik’s face softened completely. He let go of her arm and gently cupped her face with both hands.
“Kiana is somebody I used to mess with a long time ago,” he said calmly. “That’s it. She’s in the past. I don’t want her. I haven’t wanted her for a long time.”
Y/N’s lip trembled slightly. “It didn’t look that way tonight. The way she was all up on you… laughing and touching you like that.”
Erik shook his head still holding her face gently.
“I was just being polite because her mom was right there,” he explained. “That’s all it was. I wasn’t flirting with her. I don’t want her. I want you. Only you.”
He leaned his forehead against hers, voice dropping even lower, almost a whisper.
“I’m here with you right now, ain’t I? I picked you up. I brought you to my house. I’m not thinking about nobody else but you.”
Y/N stayed quiet for a moment as she processed his words. The tension in her body slowly started to ease under his gentle touch.
Erik stayed close, forehead resting against hers, thumbs gently stroking her cheeks. He searched her eyes for a second longer before leaning in and kissing her again.
This time the kiss was softer at first like he was trying to prove his words. Y/N hesitated for half a second before she kissed him back. Her hands came up to grip the front of his hoodie pulling him closer into the kiss. The moment she did that, something shifted. The kiss intensified quickly, turning hungry and desperate. Tongues tangled, breaths mixed, and needy sounds escaped between them.
Erik groaned into her mouth, one hand sliding down to grip her waist while the other stayed at the back of her neck holding her right where he wanted her.
When he finally pulled back just enough to speak, his voice was full of heat.
“She isn’t getting this dick like you are,” he murmured against her lips. “She isn’t getting this tongue on her pussy like you are.”
He kissed her again, biting her bottom lip before soothing it with his tongue.
“You the only one I want tasting like this. The only one I want creaming on my dick. The only one I want moaning my name.”
His hand slid down to squeeze her ass, pulling her even tighter against him so she could feel how hard he still was.
“So stop acting like you don’t know what this is,” he said. “You mine. And I’m yours.”
Erik kissed her again. He bent slightly, grabbed the back of her thighs with both hands, and lifted her up like she weighed nothing. Y/N gasped into his mouth as her legs instinctively wrapped tight around his waist. Her dress rolled all the way up her hips and bunched around her waist completely exposing her ass and soaked panties. The second her legs locked behind his back, he smacked her ass hard with one hand, the loud crack echoing through the hallway like a gunshot.
“Fuck,” he groaned against her lips squeezing the soft flesh of her ass with both hands as he started carrying her up the stairs. Every step made her feel his hard dick pressing insistently against her panties, rubbing right against her clit through the thin fabric. Y/N moaned softly, her arms wrapped around his neck, fingers digging into his shoulders as he continued kissing her. His tongue tangled with hers while his hands kneaded and spread her ass cheeks as he occasionally smacked her ass again just to hear the sound and feel her jolt against him.
By the time they reached the top of the stairs, they were both breathing heavily. Erik kicked the bedroom door open with his foot and carried her straight to the bed. He laid her down on her back without ever pulling his mouth away from hers, his heavy body settling between her spread legs as the kiss continued.
Y/N moaned louder into his mouth as one of his hands slid between their bodies. He pushed her dress up even further around her waist completely exposing her lower half. His fingers immediately found her soaked panties, rubbing her slowly through the drenched fabric.
“Goddamn, baby,” he groaned against her lips as he pressed two thick fingers firmly against her swollen clit and rubbed it in slow circles. “You’re fucking dripping.”
Y/N’s hips rolled up desperately into his hand chasing the pleasure as he kept rubbing her clit through her panties. Her moans grew louder and needier.
Erik didn’t rush. He took his time kissing her deeply while his fingers worked her soaked pussy.
Before she could cum, he pulled back leaving her pussy throbbing and aching with need.
He sat back on his knees between her spread legs, his chest rising and falling as he looked down at her with hooded eyes. A predatory smirk spread across his face.
Then, very slowly, he started stripping for her.
He grabbed the bottom of his hoodie and began pulling it off inch by inch, teasing her. First, his defined abs came into view, then his muscular chest, followed by his strong shoulders and arms. He revealed his scarred, bare skin as he finally tugged the hoodie over his head and tossed it aside. He kept his eyes locked on her the entire time watching the way her gaze followed every movement and he clearly enjoyed how she stared at him.
Next, he hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his joggers and boxers. He pushed them down painfully slow revealing the deep V-line of his hips first. His thick dick finally sprang free, slapping hard and heavy against his lower stomach with an audible sound. It was rock hard, veins bulging along the shaft, the fat head already shiny with precum. Erik took his time kicking his joggers and boxers completely off before he stood up fully beside the bed so she could see every inch of him.
He stood there completely naked for a long moment letting her look. His muscular body was on full display. His broad shoulders, sculpted chest and abs, strong thighs, and that thick, throbbing dick standing proud and heavy between his legs twitching slightly under her gaze. He slowly stroked himself with one hand, base to tip, while staring down at her with hungry eyes.
Y/N’s eyes were glued to him. Her soaked pussy clenching around nothing as she watched him.
Once he was satisfied with how long he’d made her wait and stare, Erik walked over to his closet and reached inside. He pulled out a pair of black metal handcuffs and dangled them from his finger as he walked back to the bed with a wicked smirk on his face.
“I’ve been a bad boy tonight,” he said. “I want you to punish me.”
Erik climbed back onto the bed, hovering over her, and handed her the handcuffs. His hard dick brushed heavily against her thigh leaving a sticky trail of precum on her skin.
Y/N’s eyes widened in genuine shock as she stared at the handcuffs in her hand, then back up at him.
“Wait… you want me to…?” she asked, voice soft with surprise. Erik had always been the dominant one. He was usually the one in control, the one pinning her down, the one telling her what to do. Seeing him like this threw her completely off guard.
Erik smirked, but his eyes were serious with lust.
“Yeah,” he said. “I want you to punish me.”
Y/N blinked. “Are you sure?”
Instead of answering with words, Erik leaned down and kissed her deeply. When he pulled back just enough to speak, his lips brushed against hers.
“I should be punished for letting that bitch think she could ever get this dick,” he murmured. “For letting her think she had any kind of chance when this dick belongs to you.”
He kissed her again, his tongue sliding into her mouth as one hand gripped her thigh.
“So cuff me, baby,” he whispered against her lips. “Make me pay for that shit.”
Then something shifted in her. She sat up slowly, pushed against his chest, and forced him onto his back on the bed. Erik let her, a surprised but pleased smirk on his face as he fell back against the pillows. He bit his lip hard and his eyes darkened with lust as he watched her climb on top of him.
She straddled his waist for a second and looked down at him with a newfound confidence. Then she grabbed his wrists one by one and cuffed them to the headboard, the metal clicking loudly into place. Erik tested the cuffs, pulling slightly, muscles flexing in his arms and chest. He was completely at her mercy now.
Y/N stood up from the bed and stood at the edge so he could see all of her. She reached behind her back and slowly unzipped the dress as she kept her eyes on him the entire time. She let the straps fall off her shoulders one at a time, teasing him as the fabric slid down her body. The dress pooled at her feet leaving her in just her black lace bra and matching panties.
Erik’s dick twitched hard against his stomach as he watched her. “Fuck, baby…” he groaned biting his lip again.
She reached behind her back and unclasped her bra. Her full breasts spilled free, nipples already hard. Then she turned around slowly giving him a perfect view of her ass. She hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her panties and bent over at the waist sliding them down her legs inch by inch.
Once the panties were off, she stayed bent over, legs slightly spread. She started twerking slowly for him making her ass bounce and clap. The movement made her wet pussy lips part slightly. Then she reached back with both hands, grabbed her ass cheeks, and spread herself open wide for him.
Erik let out a deep groan at the sight. Her pussy was glistening, creamy, and dripping. Strings of her arousal visibly stretched between her folds. She spread herself even wider showing him everything.
“Goddamn… look at that pretty pussy creaming for me,” he rasped pulling against the handcuffs.
Y/N turned around and stood at the edge of the bed for a moment, breathing heavily as she looked down at Erik. He was completely naked, handcuffed to the headboard, and his thick dick was rock hard and leaking against his stomach. The power she felt in that moment made her thighs press together.
She kicked off her strappy heels one by one letting them fall to the floor with soft thuds. Then she reached down, picked up her soaked black lace panties from the floor, and dangled them in front of him. The fabric was visibly wet with her arousal.
Erik’s eyes darkened even more as he watched her.
Without saying a word, Y/N climbed onto the bed and straddled his chest. She pressed the soaked panties against his lips.
“Open,” she ordered softly.
Erik obeyed and parted his lips. She slowly stuffed the wet lace into his mouth and pushed the drenched fabric past his lips until it filled his mouth. He groaned deeply around the material, eyes rolling back slightly at the taste of her.
“Good boy,” she whispered patting his cheek lightly.
She slid back down his body until she was straddling his thighs. His dick stood tall and throbbing right in front of her. Y/N wrapped her hand around the thick base. She stroked him slowly, twisting her wrist at the head, spreading the precum that was leaking from him all over his shaft.
Erik moaned loudly around her panties, hips bucking up into her hand desperately. She kept her pace torturously slow, squeezing him firmly as she stroked him up and down watching his abs flex and his chest rise and fall rapidly.
“Look at you,” she murmured with her eyes locked on his face. “All tied up with my panties in your mouth… leaking all over my hand like a desperate slut.”
She stroked him a little faster, thumb rubbing over the sensitive head on every upstroke. Erik’s muffled groans grew louder, his body straining against the handcuffs as he tried to thrust into her fist. Sweat started to glisten on his scarred chest.
Y/N leaned forward slightly letting her breasts brush against his dick as she continued stroking him with long and slow strokes. She could feel him throbbing wildly in her hand. His veins pulsed under her fingers.
“You like this?” she asked softly squeezing the head of his dick. “Being my little play-toy tonight?”
Erik nodded frantically, eyes half-lidded, moaning desperately around the soaked panties in his mouth.
“Fuck, you’re so hard,” she whispered as she squeezed him tighter at the base before stroking all the way up again. “Look at you… leaking everywhere. You really are a bad boy tonight.”
She picked up the pace just a little, jerking him faster while her other hand cupped and massaged his heavy balls. Erik’s breathing grew ragged. His muffled moans got louder. She could tell he was getting close.
Just as his hips started stuttering and his eyes rolled back, Y/N suddenly pulled her hand away completely leaving his dick twitching and bouncing in the air.
Erik let out a frustrated groan, pulling hard against the cuffs as his body jerked.
Y/N smirked down at him. She leaned forward, hooked her fingers into the waistband of the panties still stuffed in his mouth, and slowly pulled them out. Strings of saliva connected the wet lace to his lips as she removed them.
She held the soaked panties in her hand for a second before she tossed them aside. Crawling higher up his body, she positioned herself so her dripping pussy hovered just inches above his face. Erik’s eyes widened with hunger, staring up at her glistening folds as she slowly lowered herself… only to stop right before he could taste her.
She hovered there, teasing him mercilessly. Her wet pussy was so close he could feel the heat radiating from her and could smell how turned on she was. She rocked her hips slightly letting her swollen clit brush just barely against the tip of his nose before pulling back again.
Erik groaned loudly, neck straining as he tried to lift his head to reach her. “Please…” he rasped.
Y/N smiled down at him, biting her lip as she continued to hover and tease. She spread her knees a little wider giving him an even better view of her creamy pussy before she lowered herself so close that her wet folds brushed against his lips for half a second before she lifted away once more.
“You want this pussy?” she asked softly. “You want to taste how wet I am for you?”
Erik nodded frantically, eyes dark and pleading as he stared up at her dripping center. His tongue darted out trying desperately to reach her, but she kept just out of reach and enjoyed the power she had over him.
Y/N smirked down at him as she bit her lip. “That’s not good enough. Beg for it. Beg for this pussy like you mean it.”
Erik’s eyes were wild with lust as he looked up at her. His chest heaved with heavy breaths.
“Please, baby,” he begged. “Please sit on my face. I need to taste you. I’ve been thinking about this pussy all night. Let me eat it… please. I’ll do anything. Just let me bury my tongue in you. I need it so fucking bad.”
Y/N’s pussy clenched at his words. She hovered there a moment longer before she finally lowered herself.
She sat fully on his face, her wet pussy pressing down against his mouth and nose. Erik moaned loudly the second she made contact, the sound vibrating straight through her core. He immediately went to work and devoured her like a man starved.
His tongue licked long and sloppy stripes up her slit collecting every drop of her cream before swirling around her swollen clit. He sucked her clit into his mouth hard, flicking his tongue rapidly against it while groaning loudly. The vibrations made Y/N’s thighs shake as she moaned, grinding down harder on his face.
“Fuck, Erik…” she whimpered, one hand gripping the headboard for balance while the other tangled in his locs.
Erik was relentless. He pushed his tongue deep inside her hole, fucking her with it in steady strokes, slurping and sucking loudly on her juices. He ate her messily. Wet sounds filled the room as he licked, sucked, and devoured every inch of her pussy.
Y/N started riding his face, smearing her wetness all over his lips, chin, and nose. Erik moaned like he was in heaven.
“That’s it… eat this pussy,” she moaned rolling her hips faster. “You like how I taste, don’t you? You like being my seat?”
Erik groaned loudly in response, sucking harder on her clit. He alternated between fucking her with his tongue and sucking greedily on her clit, his head moving with her as she rode his face. He was completely lost in her and moaned like her pussy was the best thing he’d ever tasted.
Y/N’s moans grew louder, her thighs starting to tremble around his head as the pleasure built fast and intense. She rode his face harder, grinding her clit against his tongue while he sucked and licked without mercy.
She reached behind her with one hand and wrapped her fingers around his throbbing dick. It was rock hard and leaking heavily, pulsing in her grip as she started stroking him slowly from base to tip. Erik moaned loudly into her pussy the second her hand touched him.
“Fuck… yes, just like that,” she whimpered.
Erik’s muffled groans grew louder and more desperate as she jerked him off.
“You love this, don’t you?” she taunted breathlessly. “You love eating my pussy while I use you.”
His tongue pushed deeper inside her as he moaned in agreement. The wet sounds of him devouring her mixed with the sounds of her hand stroking his dick filled the entire room.
Y/N felt her orgasm building fast. She stroked him even faster, squeezing him tighter as she rode his face.
“I’m gonna cum,” she moaned loudly. “I’m so close… cum with me, Erik. I want you to cum while you’re eating this pussy. Cum for me right now.”
Erik let out a deep moan against her clit, his body tensing hard beneath her. His tongue flicked rapidly against her swollen nub while she stroked him relentlessly. Y/N cried out as her orgasm crashed over her, her pussy gushing on his tongue. At the same time, Erik’s dick pulsed hard in her hand. Thick ropes of cum shot across his abs, chest, and her hands as he came with her.
Y/N kept stroking him slowly through the aftershocks, milking the last few spurts from his dick while she gently rubbed her sensitive pussy against his tongue. Erik continued licking her softly, cleaning her up with gentle strokes until she finally lifted off his face.
Erik’s face was a complete mess. His lips, chin, and nose were shiny and covered with her juices. He looked up at her with lust-filled eyes.
She leaned down and kissed him deeply, tasting herself all over his mouth and tongue. Erik groaned as he kissed her back hungrily.
When she finally pulled back, a thin string of saliva and her wetness connected their lips. Y/N looked down at her hand which still covered in thick ropes of his cum from when she stroked him. Without breaking eye contact, she brought her hand to her mouth and slowly licked it clean, dragging her tongue across her palm and fingers tasting every drop of him.
Erik watched her as he bit his lip hard.
“Fuck… you’re so nasty,” he groaned. “Such a filthy girl for me.”
Y/N smirked, licking the last bit from between her fingers.
Erik’s breathing was still ragged as he looked up at her. “What do you want next, baby?” he asked. “Tell me. I’ll give you whatever you want.”
Y/N straddled his waist, hovering just above his still-hard dick. She looked him dead in the eyes and whispered, “I want you to fuck me. I want you deep inside me.”
Erik’s dick twitched hard at her words.
Without another word, Y/N reached up and unlocked the handcuffs, freeing his wrists. The second the metal clicked open, Erik’s hands were on her. His hands gripped her hips tightly as he flipped her onto her back in one swift motion.
He looked down at her. “You sure you want this?” he asked, his hard dick resting heavy and leaking against her soaked pussy.
Y/N nodded quickly. “Yes… fuck me, Erik. I need you inside me.”
Erik pushed inside her slowly, stretching her open with a deep groan. “Fuck, baby…” he whispered, burying his face in her neck as he bottomed out. “So fucking tight and wet for me.”
He started fucking her with slow strokes, rolling his hips so she felt every inch. His hands gripped her thighs, spreading her wider as he thrust into her. Y/N’s head fell back against the pillow, a broken moan slipping out as pleasure flooded her body.
Erik kissed her neck and sucked lightly on her skin. “This pussy feels so good,” he murmured.
Y/N could barely respond. Every deep stroke stole her breath, her mouth falling open in silent cries as he hit that perfect spot inside her over and over. She gripped his back, nails digging into his skin, her legs wrapping tighter around his waist.
Erik’s pace gradually picked up. “You’re mine,” he said against her ear. “Only mine. I don’t want anybody else. Just you.”
Y/N moaned loudly, her eyes squeezing shut as the pleasure became overwhelming.
Erik kept going. “You feel that?” he groaned. “This dick is yours. All of it.”
Y/N’s head was spinning. The way he filled her, the way his body moved against hers, the way his voice rumbled in her ear — it was too much. She could only moan and cling to him, her pussy clenching tightly around his thick dick with every thrust.
Erik’s hand slid down to rub her clit in slow circles while he fucked her. “That’s it, baby. Take this dick. Let me make you feel good.”
She managed a shaky “Erik…” as her body trembled beneath him. Her thighs shook around his waist and her back arched off the bed as the pleasure built higher and higher.
He leaned down and kissed her messily, swallowing her moans as he fucked her harder. “I got you,” he whispered against her lips.
“Faster… Erik, please go faster.”
Erik groaned at her words. His hips snapped forward harder and faster giving her exactly what she asked for. The bed creaked loudly under them as he pounded into her. The wet sound of their bodies colliding filled the room.
“Like this?” he growled. “You want me to fuck you like this?”
Y/N could only moan loudly in response. “Yes— fuck, yes! Don’t stop!”
Erik slammed into her so deep she felt it in her stomach. Y/N’s moans turned into broken cries, her pussy clenching tightly around his dick as the pressure built unbearably fast.
“I’m gonna cum,” she whimpered. “Erik, I’m about to cum—”
“CUM on this dick,” he growled. “Cum all over this shit, baby. Let me feel it. Give it to me.”
Y/N came hard with a loud cry, her pussy spasming violently around his dick. Her juices gushed around him soaking his dick and the sheets beneath them.
The feeling of her cumming so hard around him triggered Erik’s own release. He fucked her through her orgasm for a few more deep strokes before he suddenly pulled out with a wet sound. He stroked his dick fast aiming at her pussy.
“Fuck— I’m about to nuttttt,” he groaned.
Thick ropes of cum shot out across her pussy, painting her swollen folds and clit. Erik kept stroking himself as he rubbed the head of his dick up and down her cum-covered pussy, spreading his load all over her sensitive flesh.
Erik finally collapsed beside her and pulled her into his arms. Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck and held him close as their sweaty bodies pressed together. He kissed her deeply, their tongues lazily moving together as they caught their breath.
“You did such a good job, baby,” he murmured against her lips as he kissed her again softly. “Such a good fucking girl for me.”
————————————————————
Erik sat up slowly. “Stay right here, baby. Don’t move.”
He got up from the bed and walked to the bathroom. Y/N could hear the sink running for a minute before he returned with a warm rag. He climbed back onto the bed and gently spread her legs, taking his time as he wiped her clean. The warm cloth felt soothing against her pussy. He was careful and thorough, wiping away every trace of their mess with gentle strokes.
“You okay?” he asked softly.
Y/N nodded, too blissed out to speak much.
After he finished cleaning her, he wiped himself off quickly before he tossed the rag into the hamper in the corner of the room. He climbed back into bed and pulled her into his arms, wrapping her up against his chest. Y/N curled into him immediately burying her face in his neck as he pampered her with soft kisses all over her forehead, her cheeks, the tip of her nose, her eyelids, and finally her lips.
“You with me, baby?” he murmured between kisses.
Y/N let out a content sigh. “Yeah… I’m with you.”
They stayed like that for a long moment. The only sounds in the room were their breathing and the faint hum of the air conditioner.
After a while, Y/N spoke quietly, almost shyly.
“I still can’t believe you let me do that… cuff you and everything.”
Erik chuckled softly, the sound rumbling in his chest. He kissed the top of her head and squeezed her a little tighter.
“Yeah, well… don’t get used to it,” he teased. “I was feeling generous tonight. Next time, I’m tying your ass up and reminding you who’s really in charge.”
Y/N laughed tiredly against his neck. “You’re so full of shit.”
Erik grinned and tilted her chin up so he could kiss her properly again. When he pulled back, he looked at her with a soft expression.
“I want you, Y/N,” he said quietly. “I want all of you. The real shit. The good days and the bad ones. I want you to stop running from me.”
He brushed his thumb across her cheek.
“And I know you want me too. I can feel it every time we’re together. So stop fighting it, baby. Be mine. For real this time. Let me be your man.”
Y/N searched his eyes for a long moment, her heart beating fast in her chest. She gave him a small smile and nodded.
“Yes,” she whispered. “I’ll be your girl.”
Erik’s face broke into a wide smile which showed his gold fronts and made his eyes crinkle at the corners. He pulled her closer and kissed her deeply.
When they finally pulled apart, Y/N rested her forehead against his and let out a soft laugh.
“The group is gonna freak out when they find out,” she murmured. “Like, actually lose their minds.”
He thought about it for a second before a mischievous glint appeared in his eyes.
“I got an idea,” he said.
He made sure the sheet was pulled up high enough to cover Y/N’s body properly, tucking it around her shoulders so only her face and a bit of her collarbone were visible. Then he reached over to the nightstand, grabbed his phone, and pulled her closer so their faces were side by side.
“Smile, baby,” he said softly holding the phone up.
Y/N laughed lightly and leaned her head against his, giving the camera a small smile. Erik snapped the selfie with the both of them looking relaxed, a little sweaty, and unmistakably together in his bed.
He opened the group chat and sent the photo without any caption.
A few minutes later, Erik’s phone started blowing up.
The group chat notifications came in rapid fire.
<Trey: I KNEW IT 😂😂😂
<Trey: I fucking knew something was going on with y’all two!!! The way y’all were acting at dinner had me suspicious af
Jada was next, sending a string of shocked emojis.
<Jada: WAIT WHATTTTT
<Jada: Y/N??? ERIK???
<Jada: Since WHEN?!?! I need the tea RIGHT NOW
Aaliyah jumped in right after.
<Aaliyah: HOLD THE FUCK UP
<Aaliyah: Y’all been sneaking around??? 😭
The messages kept coming, the group chat moving at lightning speed.
<Jada: Wait… so the night Erik took the honeypack… y’all went to his house after?!
<Aaliyah: I’m actually screaming rn. Y/N you were acting so normal like you didn’t just get dicked down 😭
Erik was laughing quietly beside Y/N, scrolling through the messages with her. Y/N buried her face in his chest, half embarrassed, half amused.
Then Trey dropped the bomb.
<Trey: Group FaceTime. Right now. I need to see y’all faces for this conversation. 5 minutes.
The group chat exploded with thumbs up and emojis. Erik looked at Y/N with a raised eyebrow.
“You ready for this?” he asked smirking.
Y/N let out a nervous laugh. “Not really… but we might as well get it over with.”
A few minutes later, the FaceTime call came through. Erik answered, propping the phone up against the lamp on the nightstand so both of them were visible. He pulled Y/N closer, wrapping an arm around her shoulders as the others joined one by one.
Trey was the first face to pop up, grinning like he’d won the lottery. “I knew it! I fucking knew it! The tension at dinner was crazy. Y’all thought y’all was slick!”
Jada joined next, mouth open in shock. “Y/N!!! You been holding out on us?! I thought we were besties! How long has this been going on?!”
Y/N laughed, hiding her face in Erik’s shoulder for a second before peeking out. “It’s… complicated. But yeah… it’s been a thing for a little while now.”
Erik rubbed her arm gently, looking at the camera with a calm smirk. “It’s official now though. She’s my girl.”
The group lost it.
Trey spoke grinning from ear to ear. “OFFICIAL?! Oh we celebrating this weekend fr! Y’all really thought y’all was slick hiding this?!”
Aaliyah leaned closer to her camera, looking shocked but amused. “So the Kiana thing tonight… that’s why you got quiet, Y/N?”
Trey laughed loudly. “I knew something was off when you went to the bathroom!”
Y/N groaned. “Y’all are so nosy, oh my god.”
Erik just smiled, kissing the side of her head. “They’ll get over it.”
Jada wasn’t letting it go. “No, no, no — we need details! When did this start?“
Trey leaned in. “And be honest — how long have y’all been sneaking around?”
Y/N sighed, still laughing. “It started before the honeypack night… but we’ve been complicated for a while. I was scared, so I was ignoring him. But tonight we made it official.”
The group erupted again.
After a few more minutes of teasing, congratulations, and wild questions, Jada yawned. “Okay, it’s getting late and I’m tired. But we’re definitely talking more about this later. Love y’all!”
Aaliyah nodded. “Same. Congrats again, you two. Don’t mess it up!”
Trey gave them a salute. “Proud of y’all. Night, lovebirds.”
After the FaceTime call ended, the bedroom fell quiet again. Erik set his phone back on the nightstand and turned to Y/N, pulling her closer under the sheets. He looked at her for a long moment, almost like he was still processing everything that had happened tonight.
“I still can’t believe you’re really my girl now,” he said softly.
Y/N looked up at him. She let out a soft laugh and shook her head.
“I can’t believe it either,” she admitted.
Erik’s smile widened. He leaned in and kissed her slowly, savoring the moment. But the kiss quickly deepened. Y/N’s hands slid up to his neck, pulling him closer as their tongues met.
When they finally pulled apart, both of them were breathing heavier. Erik rested his forehead against hers, his hand gently stroking her side.
“One more round?” he asked, a hint of that smirk returning. “I don’t think I’m done with you yet.”
Y/N smiled against his lips, her fingers tracing his jaw.
“Ready when you are,” she whispered back.
They made love all night long solidifying their new relationship with every touch, every kiss, and every whispered promise between them.
———————-
Y’all finally got your part 2! 🤣 Did y’all enjoy it??
Summary: Annie thought coming home would feel familiar. Instead, it feels dangerous. One look across Stack’s apartment and eight years suddenly don’t mean a damn thing anymore. Old feelings rise fast, old tensions follow even faster, and somewhere in the middle of all of it looms a cookout neither Annie nor Smoke are emotionally prepared for. Especially once Pearline realizes Smoke might not be showing up alone.
A/N: This was NEVER supposed to turn into a multi-chapter fic 😭 It was truly meant to be a one-and-done little angst moment and now here we are… deep in everybody’s feelings. I hope y’all enjoy this chapter of what I like to call: the quiet before the storm. 🤐
WC: 10k
The plane lands and Annie feels it in her chest before the wheels even settle, a quiet drop that has nothing to do with altitude. She stays seated, fingers curled around the strap of her purse. She hears the seatbelt signs ding, people stand, some stretch, others reach for their bags and fall into the aisle like this is routine.
Her carry-on sits in the overhead bin above her, untouched. She watches the passengers go. Row by row. Voice after voice fading toward the exit.
No rush. No urgency. Just movement she doesn’t join because as long as she’s still sitting here… she’s not really here yet.
The cabin empties around her. The noise dies down to something softer. Distant. A flight attendant murmurs something near the front. A bag wheel drags faint across the aisle, then disappears.
And then—it’s quiet.
Annie exhales slowly, her hand coming up to rest against the edge of the seat in front of her.
There’s nothing left to wait on.
She stands, reaching up for her bag, fingers closing around the handle without hesitation, but she still pauses once it’s in her hands. Just for a second—like this is it.
She steps into the aisle walking forward, and this time there’s nothing slowing her down but herself. It all feels too normal for something that didn’t feel small when she decided to do it. She tells herself it’s just a trip. A visit. Something quick. Something she can leave if it goes left. Her mouth presses thin at that, because she knows that’s not true.
Not really.
The airport air greets her the same way it always does, cool and overworked, carrying a faint mix of coffee, cleaning solution, and people moving in every direction at once. She walks with the crowd, not rushing, and not dragging either. She’s keeping pace until she reaches baggage claim. The carousel hums, metal groaning under the weight of suitcases circling over and over. Annie stands with her arms folded, eyes scanning without really seeing, her mind running ahead of her. Eight years. She says it again in her head as if it’ll sound differently the second time.
It doesn’t.
Her suitcase comes around eventually, the one she packed late the night before, half her things folded, half thrown in when she started thinking too much. She grips the handle, pulls it down, and sets it upright beside her. For a second she considers calling Pearline asking where she is. Instead, she heads for the exit.
The doors slide open and the air outside hits different—warmer, heavier, carrying that familiar weight she hasn’t felt in years. It settles over her shoulders without asking. The sounds come with it, engines idling, horns tapping, voices calling out across the pickup lane. Annie steps off to the side, out of the main flow, her hand resting on the handle of her suitcase while she scans the line of cars pulling up and pulling off. Her heart beats a little faster than she wants it to, a quiet rhythm she can’t quite calm.
She checks her phone. No new messages. Of course not.
She exhales through her nose and looks up again just as a familiar voice cuts loudly through the noise. “There’s my bestie!!”
Annie turned at the sound. Pearline was halfway out of the car, door wide open, eyes locked on her with the biggest grin on her face. Her brown skin was warm under the light. Her edges laid clean, hair pulled back into a long, sleek ponytail that fell down her back. She wore a fitted tank and loose shorts sitting easy on her hips, her gold earrings gleaming in the sun. Everything about her gave effortless.
“Girl,” Pearline says, walking straight into her space, arms wrapping around her before Annie can say anything.
Annie laughs into it, the sound coming out lighter than she feels, hugging her back just as tight. “Hey, Line.”
“You really here,” Pearline murmurs, pulling back just enough to look at her, hands still on her arms like she’s making sure she’s real. “I thought you was playin’.”
“I almost was,” Annie admits.
Pearline snorts. “I know. That’s why I ain’t believe you.”
Annie rolls her eyes, but it doesn’t hold. There’s something grounding about Pearline standing right in front of her, familiar in a way that doesn’t require explanation.
“Let me see you,” Pearline says, stepping back, eyes dragging over her with open approval. “Okay… you came down here lookin’ like this on purpose.”
Annie huffs out a small laugh. “Please.”
“Nah, fren. You look good.”
Annie shrugs it off, but her hand smooths over her shirt anyway, a small, unconscious motion. The fabric sits soft against her skin, one shoulder left bare, the neckline dipping just enough to show she thought about it longer than she’ll admit. The baby blue lounge set hugs her easy without trying, the kind of outfit that looks simple until you notice how it falls.
Her braids trail down her back, long knotless boho plaits with loose waves woven through, catching movement when she does. Fresh. Neat. Intentional.
Pearline reaches for Annie’s suitcase without asking, already turning toward the car. “Come on. Before they start blowin’ at me.”
Annie follows, rolling her carry-on behind her as Pearline pops the trunk and lifts the larger suitcase in. Annie angles the smaller one beside it. Pearline shuts the trunk and moves around to the driver’s side. Annie heads for the passenger door, sliding into the seat, purse sliding off her shoulder. Pearline gets in a second later, the doors shutting one after the other, sealing them into a smaller space, the outside noise dropping to a dull hum.
At first, neither of them says anything.
Pearline pulls out into traffic, one hand on the wheel, the other resting easy.
Annie looks out the window, watching the road open up in front of them, something tight settling low in her chest.
“You ok?” Pearline asks, not looking at her yet.
Annie nods once, even though Pearline can’t see it. “Yeah.”
Pearline glances over anyway. “Mm.”
Annie lets out a breath that doesn’t fully release anything. “I’m here,” she says, quieter now.
Pearline nods, like that’s enough for now. “Yeah,” she says. “You here.”
The house sits back off the road, gravel crunching under the tires as Jada pulls in. Late afternoon light cuts across the front windows, making the new build look sharper and cleaner than it probably is.
“Tell me this ain’t a good one,” Jada says, cutting the engine.
Smoke takes a moment, eyes scanning the exterior lines, the lot, the roof pitch. “It’s solid.”
She smiles, satisfied, already reaching for the door handle. “I know it is.”
They step out, the heat sitting heavier here, quieter than the job site, no machines, no noise—just space.
Jada leads the way up the short walk, unlocking the door and pushing it open. “Watch your step,” she says over her shoulder, already inside.
The air is cool and smells of fresh paint and new wood. The place echoes, empty and full of potential.
Jada immediately slips into real estate mode, walking him through the house with easy confidence. “Three bed, two and a half bath,” she says, leading him into the open living area. “Good natural light in the mornings. Owners are asking for three-fifty, but they’re motivated. They need to close quick.”
Smoke follows a half-step behind, moving like the foreman he is. His hand drags along the drywall, pressing lightly to check how solid it feels. He taps a knuckle against a support beam, eyes narrowing at the trim work in the corners.
“Who built it?” he asks.
“Local crew,” she says.
Smoke’s hand drags briefly along the counter edge again. “Mm.”
Jada glances at him. “What?”
He looks toward the ceiling line, then the trim near the doorway. “Corners lazy.”
She laughs immediately. “Boy, please, don’t start.”
“I ain’t start nothin’,” he says, a faint smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth.
Jada keeps going. “Kitchen’s decent. Not gourmet, but the layout works. I’m thinking I might make an offer myself — flip it. Put in better finishes, maybe extend the island, update the backsplash. Could turn a solid profit in six months.”
She glances back at him, expecting the usual thoughtful input.
Smoke nods, but his response is delayed. “Yeah… layout’s good.”
His fingers trail along the wall again as they move into the hallway. He crouches slightly to check the baseboards, then stands and tests a door hinge. The motions are automatic. Professional.
But his mind is somewhere else.
“…I thought you were saying goodbye.”
Annie’s voice from the phone call keeps cutting in. The way it softened on his name. The hesitation. The way he’d shut her down — flat, cold, final. He clenches his jaw. He’s pissed at himself for how easily she got under his skin after eight years. Pissed that one phone call had him replaying old shit he thought he’d buried.
Jada leads him into the primary bedroom. “This is the money room. Closet’s decent size. Bathroom has that nice tub — that’s what sells it to couples.” She turns, gesturing toward the windows. “Backyard’s big enough for a deck or even a small pool if someone wanted to go crazy.”
Smoke steps past her, running his palm over the painted wall, checking for imperfections. He glances out the window at the yard, but his eyes are unfocused. In his head he hears his own voice again — “…ain’t no ‘us,’ Annie.” — and feels a flicker of regret he doesn’t expect.
Jada stops talking. She watches him for a long moment, arms slowly crossing.
“You good?” she asks.
Smoke blinks, pulling himself back. “Uh huh.”
Too quick. Too flat.
Jada’s eyes narrow. She leans against the doorframe, studying him. “You been here in body, Smoke, but your mind been somewhere else since we walked through that front door. I’m talkin’ about flippin’ this house, making money, and you barely nodding at me.”
“I’m listenin’.”
“No, you hearin’ me,” she says. “That ain’t the same thing.”
He exhales, dragging a hand down his face. Annie’s words hit him again — “I was wrong.” — and the irritation at himself flares hotter. He shouldn’t still care this much.
Jada watches him quietly another second. “Did somethin’ happen?”
Smoke shakes his head once. “Nah.”
A lie.
Not a full one. But enough.
Jada’s mouth presses thin. “Okay.”
Minutes pass. Then another.
And when he still doesn’t offer anything else, something in her expression changes. Not anger. Something more tired than that.
Jada looks at him for another second before speaking again. “You ever see this bein’ more than what it is?”
Smoke’s gaze flickers toward her.
Brief.
Guarded.
The room goes quiet around them.
“I thought we was clear about what this was,” he says carefully.
Jada nods once. “We were, but—but clear don’t mean feelings disappear.”
That settles heavier than he expects.
She exhales softly, stepping closer, arms uncrossing. “I’m not askin’ for the world. I’m not askin’ you to move in or slap a label on us. But I’m tired of feeling like I’m the only one even thinkin’ ahead sometimes.”
The silence stretches.
Smoke looks at her. Really looks. For half a second he imagines leaning into what she’s offering — something stable, no ghosts. It would be simpler.
But Annie’s voice is still there.
Jada continues, voice softening with old hurt. “I liked you since we was in high school, you know. For real. You were always so wrapped up in sports, running the streets, chasing after…” She catches herself, the name Annie almost slipping out. She swallows it when she sees the slight shift in his eyes. “Chasing after what you wanted. I told myself it was whatever. We were young.”
She lets out a shaky breath. “Then we got together and it felt different. Easier. At least for me. I know what we said this was. I know. But sometimes I let myself forget that I’m the one waiting for you to show up all the way. And that shit hurts more than I thought it would.”
Smoke feels the weight of both women now, one standing right in front of him, the other lodged in his head. He’s angry at himself for letting Annie crack the seal he’d kept closed for years.
“I’m not trying to play games with you,” he says finally, voice low and even. “You know that. I told you from the beginnin’ what I got room for right now. I’m focused on work, building. I’m not in a place to give more than what we already doin’.”
Jada searches his face, eyes glistening. “Then why does it feel like even what we are doing is starting to change? You been distant. Like your mind somewhere else every time I touch you.”
She steps back, folding her arms. “Be honest wit me, Smoke. What’s up?”
He doesn’t flinch or look away, but the question lodges heavy beneath his ribs, pressing against things he’d rather leave alone.
A long breath leaves him.
“Some old shit came back up,” he says finally, voice lower now. “And I ain’t figured out what to do with it yet.”
The fact that he admitted even that means it matters more than he wants it to.
Jada watches him carefully, because that’s not nothing, and the fact that he admitted even that means it matters more than he wants it to.
Jada studies him for another second, something tight moving across her face.
“Okay,” she says quietly. “That make sense.”
A bitter kind of understanding settles into the room after that. Not relief. Just the realization that the distance she’d been feeling wasn’t in her head after all.
She turns toward the hallway, shoulders looser. “Come on. You ain’t even seen the backyard yet.”
Smoke follows.
Present in body.
But his mind is still split — half here with Jada, half stuck on a phone call he wishes hadn’t affected him at all.
And for the first time in a long time, he doesn’t know which pull feels heavier.
The restaurant hums around them, loud enough to blur into background noise after a while. Grease crackles behind the counter. Somebody near the jukebox keeps laughing too hard at their own jokes. Plates clink. Sweet tea sweats against the table beneath Annie’s hand.
Pearline leans forward across the booth, fries halfway to her mouth already laughing before she can even finish the story.
“I’m checking this man in yesterday,” she says, shaking her head. “And he kept calling me ‘young lady’ every five seconds.”
Annie snorts softly. “Uh oh.”
“No, listen. So I ask for his insurance card, right? This man gon’ lean over the counter talmbout, ‘I got somethin’ else I can give you too.’”
Annie immediately groans. “Oh my God.”
Pearline points at her with the fry. “Mind you—this man had to be at least sixty.”
Annie bursts out laughing.
“Sixty is insane.”
“I said sir,” Pearline continues, barely holding her own laugh together now, “‘the only thing I need from you is a copay and a blood pressure reading.’”
Annie folds forward against the table laughing hard enough her shoulders shake.
“You did not say that.”
“I absolutely did.”
“You so ignorant.”
“And employed,” Pearline says proudly.
Annie wipes beneath one eye, still laughing. “See, this why old people love you though.”
Pearline gasps dramatically. “Love WHO? That man had compression socks on.”
Annie nearly chokes on her drink.
“Line!”
“I’m serious! One wrong step and his circulation gone.”
“You don’t want an older man no more?” Annie teases, grinning now. “I thought you liked older.”
Pearline rolls her eyes. “Older, Annie. Not social security old.”
Annie loses it again.
The sound leaves her before she can stop it, loud and full and real enough that a couple people glance over smiling. Pearline starts laughing harder seeing Annie laugh, both of them leaning into the kind of silliness that only comes easy with people who knew you before life got complicated.
For a little while, the tight feeling sitting inside Annie loosens.
Not completely.
But enough that she forgets herself for a minute.
Then the front door opens.
Warm air pushes briefly through the restaurant along with the low murmur of voices from outside. Somebody steps in laughing. Another person behind them complaining about parking.
Annie barely looks up at first.
Pearline keeps talking, still smiling to herself while she reaches for another fry. “And then this man gon’ ask me if I was married—”
Something pulls low through Annie’s chest.
Faint.
Strange enough that her attention drifts before she understands why. The feeling curls slow beneath her ribs, familiar in a way that makes her stomach tighten.
But her eyes move toward the front of the restaurant anyway. People crowd near the entrance waiting to be seated. Somebody brushes past carrying takeout bags. Plates clatter behind the counter.
Normal. Everything normal. Still—that feeling lingers. Like her body recognized something before her mind caught up.
Across the restaurant, Smoke pauses halfway through pulling his wallet from his pocket. A faint crease forms between his brows. Jada is saying something beside him, voice low, easy, but it blurs at the edges for a second beneath the sudden pull in his chest.
Not pain. Not memory either. Something sharper than that.
Attention.
His eyes move across the restaurant slowly without meaning to. Over booths. Over faces. Over movement. Searching for something he can’t name.
Jada notices the pause immediately. “What?”
Smoke looks back at her after a second. “I don’t know,” and he means it, because the feeling makes no sense.
Pearline watches Annie carefully now. “You okay?”
Annie wets her lips lightly before nodding once. “Yeah.”
Lie.
A soft one this time.
The restaurant suddenly feels smaller than it did five minutes ago. Louder too. The laughter around them blending into something harder to separate.
Her fingers curl around her glass.
Across the room, Smoke finally looks away, attention dragged back toward the hostess speaking to him. The feeling eases… barely, but enough that both of them let it go without understanding why.
Pearline leans back slowly against the booth, eyes narrowing slightly while she watches Annie stare down into her drink.
Then quietly, “…you felt that?”
Annie’s eyes lift immediately.
Too fast.
Pearline sees it right away.
And Annie hates that she does.
“What are you talking about?” Annie asks.
Pearline’s eyes drift toward the front of the restaurant out of instinct more than anything else.
Understanding flickers across Pearline’s face slow and quiet after that.
Then she looks back at Annie, staring at her for a little longer, something unreadable passing briefly across her face.
Then she picks up her drink.
“Mm,” she says quietly. “Never mind.”
And somehow—that feels worse.
A lamp glows low in the living room of Pearline’s apartment while soft music plays from Pearline’s phone in the kitchen, the sound muffled beneath running water and cabinet doors opening and closing. Outside, tires hiss faint across wet pavement from an earlier rain. Laughter in the distance. Then even that fades too.
Annie stands in the bathroom mirror wiping the last traces of makeup from beneath her eyes. Her reflection stares back at her looking softer now. Tired around the edges.
Too aware.
Steam still clings faint against the mirror from her shower. Annie stands there a moment longer gathering her braids up carefully, twisting the long plaits over one shoulder before tucking them beneath a satin bonnet. By the time she finishes, a few loose curls still frame the edges of her face, damp against her skin.
The soft pajama set hangs easy against her body—thin straps, fitted shorts, the material cool and smooth against freshly lotioned skin. The house smells faintly like fabric softener and shea butter. Home. Or close enough to confuse her body into believing it. She braces both hands against the counter and lowers her head for a second.
That feeling in the restaurant keeps replaying. The sudden pull low in her chest. The strange awareness crawling over her skin before she even understood why.
Then Pearline’s face after.
Never mind.
Annie exhales sharply through her nose because Pearline saw something. She knows she did. And somehow that feels worse than if she’d said it out loud.
Annie straightens again, staring at herself. “You are twenty-five years old,” she mutters softly. “Get a grip.” But her stomach twists anyway, because the feeling back at the restaurant hadn’t felt random. Now her mind keeps circling back to the impossible question.
Did he feel it too?
The thought comes fast enough to irritate her immediately. This is ridiculous. Eight years gone and suddenly she’s standing in a bathroom spiraling over a feeling she can’t even explain?
Except—deep down—she knows the feeling had something to do with him. Even without seeing him. Even without proof.
The realization settles slowly, heavily.
All day she kept telling herself she came here for clarity. Closure. Conversation. Something mature. Safe.
Now? Now she knows better.
Her chest tightens gradually beneath the weight of it. Closure never made somebody board a plane. Closure never made somebody hold onto a voice for nearly a decade. Closure never made her react before she even saw his face.
Annie closes her eyes briefly.
And there it is.
Quiet.
Ugly.
True.
She still loves him.
The realization moves through her body so clean it almost makes her angry. Not teenage nostalgia. Not curiosity. Not unfinished business.
Love.
Grown now. Older. Heavier. Still alive after everything she did to bury it.
A knock taps softly against the bathroom door before she can sink any deeper into it.
“You alive in there?” Pearline calls.
Annie clears her throat quickly. “Yeah.”
“You want wine or you still pretending to have self-control?”
Despite herself, Annie laughs softly.
“Wine.”
“That’s what I thought.”
Annie looks at herself one last time before turning the bathroom light off. But even lying in bed later, wine half-finished on the nightstand beside her, sleep refuses to come. Moonlight stretches pale across the ceiling. Her phone rests face down near her hip.
Every few minutes she fights the urge to pick it up. To text him. To ask him something she doesn’t even fully understand herself. Instead she stares upward listening to the soft hum of the ceiling fan in her room.
And somewhere between one breath and the next, her chest aches with the terrifying realization that seeing him again might actually ruin her life a little.
—
Across town, Smoke sits alone on his back porch.
The night air hangs warm against his skin, carrying the smell of rain soaked dirt and cigarette smoke curling slowly from between his fingers. Crickets hum steady through the dark tree line bordering the yard.
His phone rests face down beside him. Unread messages. Ignored phone calls. Inside, the television plays low to nobody. He drags another pull from the cigarette, gaze fixed somewhere beyond the fence line.
The restaurant sits under his skin wrong. Not the food. Not Jada.
The feeling.
That strange pull in his chest the second he walked through the door.
His jaw tightens faintly.
Jada clocked it too.
Smoke exhales smoke slowly through his nose before leaning forward, forearms resting against his knees.
“…some old shit came back up.”
The words sound weaker now than they did earlier. Too vague. Too clean for what it actually feels like, because the truth is uglier than that. The truth is one phone call cracked open something he spent years sealing shut.
And tonight? Tonight it felt close. Close enough to touch.
His tongue drags slowly across the inside of his cheek. He still hears her voice sometimes if he sits still too long.
I thought you were saying goodbye.
Smoke closes his eyes briefly. That part keeps digging at him, because she really believed that. Believed he was trying to leave her first. A humorless laugh leaves him low beneath his breath. Whole time he was trying to hand her every part of himself he didn’t know how to say out loud.
The cigarette burns lower between his fingers.
His phone buzzes once. He doesn’t move immediately. Then finally grabs it without much interest.
Jada.
You made it home?
His thumb hovers briefly over the screen.
A good woman. Patient. Beautiful. Trying, and still…his chest stays tangled somewhere else entirely.
Smoke stares at the message another second before typing back.
Yeah.
The response sends. Short. Same way he always does.
But afterward he sits there staring out into the dark feeling more alone than he has in years.
The next afternoon arrives thick with heat and sunlight baked deep into the pavement. Pearline’s car smells faintly of vanilla and fries from the drive-thru bag sitting between them while Annie scrolls through the grocery list on her phone.
“You really invited half the town over for this cookout?” Annie asks.
Pearline keeps one hand on the wheel, sunglasses pushed high on her nose. “Please. People heard you was back and invited themselves.”
Pearline laughs loud at that, reaching over to steal one of Annie’s fries before Annie smacks her hand away.
“Girl!”
“You got plenty.”
“You literally driving. Focus on the road.”
“I am focused.”
“You almost merged into that truck.”
Pearline sucks her teeth dramatically. “See? This why I don’t miss you.”
Annie smiles despite herself, leaning back into the seat. Warm air curls through the cracked window, brushing against the loose pieces escaping from the long braided ponytail draped over her shoulder.
Her phone chimes against her thigh.
Pearline glances over. “Who is that?”
Annie looks down.
Mama.
Her chest softens instantly.
“Mama. She checkin’ in,” Annie murmurs.
Pearline smiles faintly. “Tell Auntie I said hey.”
Annie types out a quick I’m good. We out runnin’ errands. Love you before setting the phone back down.
Before she can say anything else, Pearline’s phone rings through the speakers.
Stack’s laugh comes low and filthy through the speakers. “Yeah, you know what. You was screaming my name last week when my tongue was deep in that puss—”
“STACK, OH MY GOD!” Pearline yells, eyes wide with horror as she frantically turns the volume down. “Shut the hell up!”
Annie folds forward laughing immediately, one hand over her mouth, shoulders shaking so hard she can barely breathe.
Stack cackles through the speakers.
“Nah, don’t act shy now.”
“Elias, shut UP.” Pearline’s entire face twists in pure mortification. She glares at the phone like she can somehow fight him through it.
“You wasn’t tellin’ me shut up then.”
Pearline slaps the steering wheel. “Annie in the car!”
Silence.
Then—
“…OH SHIT.”
Annie completely loses it.
Stack groans loud through the speakers. “Man, why y’all ain’t stop me?”
Pearline stares ahead at the road. “We tried.”
“No, y’all absolutely did not.”
Annie can barely get herself together enough to speak. “Hi, Stack.”
“Aw man,” he says, voice full of disbelief now. “Annie really in my business hearin’ all this.”
Pearline grins immediately. “That’s what you get.”
“When did she get there?” Stack asks.
Pearline rolls her eyes. “Boy, I told you yesterday I was pickin’ her up from the airport.”
Silence—
Then Stack groans again. “Aight, yeah. You right.”
Annie laughs softly.
“I was high as fuck when you told me,” he admits. “Blown.”
Pearline snorts. “Please.”
“Nah, I’m serious.” His tone softens some under the jokes now. “Annie-annie really back?”
That old nickname pulls warmth straight through Annie’s chest.
“Yes, fool.”
“Oh nah,” Stack says immediately. “Pull up right now.”
Pearline smirks. “That’s literally what we doin’.”
“Bet.”
The call ends a second later.
Annie shakes her head, still smiling down at her lap, wiping tears from the corner of her eyes. “So… last week, huh?” she teases, voice dripping with amusement. “I thought you said you hadn’t hooked up wit him since you found out about Mary. That’s crazy.”
“Shut up,” Pearline mutters, sucking her teeth hard. She keeps her eyes glued to the road, but her cheeks burning. “It wasn’t even like that. He just… caught me at a weak moment.”
“Mm-hmm,” Annie says, grinning wider. “Weak moment. That’s what we callin’ it now?”
Pearline cuts her eyes at her friend. “I will put you out this car, Anissa Marie Landry. Don’t play with me.”
Annie gasps dramatically. “Not my full name.”
Pearline keeps driving. “Then act right.”
Annie laughs again, lighter than she has in days. Her chest feels warm.
Until it doesn’t.
Because the second Pearline turns into the apartment complex, nervousness starts crawling slowly back into Annie’s stomach.
The buildings look different now.
Smaller than they used to.
When they were teenagers, this place felt enormous. Endless stairs. Endless summers. Music bouncing between buildings while somebody grilled too late into the night. Kids running through parking lots. People yelling out windows for cousins and brothers and friends.
Now Annie sees cracked pavement. Faded paint near the railings. Rust beginning to gather around old fixtures.
Time.
That’s what she notices most.
Time sitting quietly over everything.
Still—the place carries the same energy underneath it. Familiar voices drifting through open windows. The smell of somebody frying food nearby. Bass thumping faint through apartment walls.
Her chest tightens.
Because part of her still remembers exactly who she used to be here.
The afternoon air hangs heavy over everything.
“You good?” Pearline asks quietly this time.
Annie exhales once. “Yeah.”
Lie.
Again.
Pearline parks crooked beside Stack’s truck.
Before Annie can even fully unbuckle her seatbelt, the apartment door swings open.
And there he is.
Stack comes down the stairs two at a time in basketball shorts and a white tank, chains bouncing against his chest, grin already spreading wide enough to split his face apart.
“ANNIE!”
Annie barely gets out the car before his arms wrap around her hard enough to lift her halfway off the ground.
“Oh my God,” she laughs breathlessly.
“Nah.” Stack squeezes her tighter. “Nah, let me look at you.”
He holds her at arm’s length for half a second before pulling her right back in again.
And that—that almost breaks her.
Because suddenly she’s seventeen again. Summer air. Loud music. Sneaking into kitchens late at night. The twins arguing somewhere nearby. Her laughter mixed into theirs.
Family.
That’s what this used to feel like.
Her eyes burn fast enough she has to blink hard before Stack notices.
But of course he notices anyway.
His expression softens immediately. “Damn,” he murmurs quieter now. “You really here.”
Annie swallows hard before nodding once. “I’m here.”
Stack studies her face another second before looking genuinely offended. “Why you ain’t come back sooner?”
Pearline snorts loudly. “Oh brother.”
“I’m serious.”
“You dramatic,” Pearline mutters, grabbing grocery bags from the backseat.
“I missed my friend.”
The sincerity in it pulls something deep in Annie’s chest.
She laughs softly through it anyway. “You still talk too much.”
“And you still love me.”
That part slips out easy.
Natural.
And Annie realizes with frightening clarity that maybe she never stopped loving any of this.
The apartment smells familiar the second Annie walks in.
Food. Cologne. Candles burned low enough to leave sweetness hanging in the air. A faint trace of weed settled deep into the couch and walls beneath everything else.
But the apartment itself catches her off guard.
Stack always cared about presentation even when they were teenagers. Matching shoes before anybody else had them. Jewelry bought with money he absolutely should’ve saved. Wanting everything around him to feel good, look good, sound expensive.
Now it’s grown into something else entirely.
Dark wood against black finishes. Low amber lighting instead of harsh overheads. Framed vinyl covers lining one wall beside abstract prints Annie knows cost too much. A massive television mounted above a fireplace that probably never gets used.
The place is clean too.
Not spotless. Lived in.
A hoodie tossed over the arm of the couch. Expensive sneakers lined neatly near the door. Half-empty tequila bottles sitting beside a speaker humming low music through the apartment.
Annie turns slowly once, taking it all in.
“Well damn,” she murmurs.
Stack grins immediately. “I got money now, baby.”
Pearline snorts from behind them. “Please. Half this shit financed.”
“Why you always pocket watchin’?”
“Cause somebody gotta stay responsible.”
Annie laughs softly under her breath while Stack points dramatically toward the kitchen.
“See? She get me.”
Pearline rolls her eyes, already making herself comfortable in the kitchen. “You lying already,”
“You love me.”
“Unfortunately.”
The conversation flows easy after that.
Too easy.
Stack talks almost the entire time, moving around the apartment while Annie trails behind him and Pearline starts pulling bottled water from the fridge.
“So boom,” Stack says, pointing between them while Annie settles onto one of the barstools near the kitchen island. “Who all comin’ tomorrow?”
“Half the damn town apparently,” Pearline mutters.
“That mean food need to be serious then.”
“It is serious,” Pearline replies. “My uncle bringing ribs, my mama doing greens—”
“Who makin’ the Mac & Cheese?”
Pearline points immediately. “Me.”
Stack makes a face. “Aight so we orderin’ it from somewhere else.”
Pearline gasps loud enough to echo through the apartment.
Annie folds forward laughing while Stack ducks away from the kitchen towel Pearline throws at his head.
“I’m serious!” he argues. “Last Thanksgiving your macaroni was fighting for its life.”
“You ate THREE plates.”
“Cause I support Black women.”
“Elias!”
Annie laughs harder hearing Pearline use his full name again.
And for a while—it feels easy being here. Easy sitting in the middle of people who still know every version of her.
The music hums low through the apartment. Pearline and Stack argue about liquor for tomorrow’s cookout while Annie scrolls through the grocery list again pretending she’s listening better than she actually is.
Get somethin’ dark too,” Stack says. “You know Smoke bougie with liquor now.”
Annie stills at Smoke’s name before forcing herself forward again. Pearline notices, but before either of them can say anything—the front door opens.
“Stack, you got my—”
Smoke stops. The entire room changes.
Annie looks up before she can prepare herself.
There he is.
Closer than memory allowed.
Her stomach drops so hard it almost hurts. Everything inside her goes painfully still.
Smoke stares at her from the doorway.
Complete silence settles over the apartment.
Even Stack shuts up.
Because Elijah Moore looks at Annie the way people look at ghosts they never stopped loving.
His keys hang loose in his hand. His chest rises once.
Twice.
Slow.
Disbelief flashes first. Then recognition. Then something…deeper. Something that spreads across his face before he can hide it.
Annie can’t breathe right suddenly. Because this—this is worse than the phone call. Worse than the memories.
Because now she can see it.
Every single thing he tried to bury after hearing her voice is written all over his face.
And judging by the way Smoke keeps staring at her—he sees the same thing reflected back at him.
The apartment goes completely still.
Smoke stands near the door with one hand still wrapped around his keys, the other holding it halfway open behind him. For a second he doesn’t move at all. Doesn’t blink either.
Neither does Annie.
The music still hums low through the speakers somewhere behind them. Pearline is saying something from the kitchen. Stack’s television flickers silently in the background. The entire room keeps existing around them while something inside both of them completely locks up.
Annie’s pulse turns violent.
Because up close is worse.
So much worse.
The phone call didn’t prepare her for this. Memory didn’t prepare her for this. Nothing could’ve prepared her for the reality of Elijah Moore standing ten feet away looking at her like somebody knocked the air clean out his chest.
He looks older in ways that matter.
Harder around the edges. More filled out through the chest and shoulders. Tattoos that disappear beneath the sleeves of his shirt and climb slowly along his forearms when he moves. A watch that sits heavy around his wrist. His beard trimmed low enough to sharpen his jaw instead of softening it. He looks settled into himself in a way that almost startles her.
His skin carried that same rich brown complexion she used to trace absentmindedly beneath porch lights and movie screens, smoother now somehow despite the years. His shoulders looked broader than she remembered, stretching the black t-shirt across his chest in a way that made him seem almost too large for the apartment kitchen. His hands looked the same though. Big. Veined. Familiar enough to make her stomach twist.
Then his eyes found hers fully. Still quiet-looking. Still unreadable at first glance. But his eyes—
God.
Those same dark heavy-lidded eyes that always seemed half a thought away from saying something dangerous if she stared too long.
Man.
That’s the first thought that moves through her head.
Not boy. Not memory…. Man.
He’s still beautiful.
The realization arrives ugly and immediate.
Smoke finally shuts the apartment door behind him carefully. Too carefully. Like his body suddenly became something he has to consciously control.
His eyes never leave her face.
Annie tries to stand. Or speak. Or breathe normally. None of it comes easy, because the look on his face keeps undoing her in real time.
Shock came first. Then recognition.
But this—this part now? This feels almost worse, because the longer he looks at her, the less guarded he becomes. Like seeing her cracked something open before he could stop it.
Stack looks between them once.
Twice.
And finally:
“Oh.”
The realization crosses his face hard enough that even Pearline catches it from the kitchen doorway.
Right.
The phone call. The silence after. Everything unsaid sitting underneath all of it.
Stack clears his throat loud enough to crack the silence slightly. “Well,” he mutters awkwardly, looking between them. “This tense as hell.”
Nobody laughs.
Smoke’s gaze flicks toward his brother briefly before landing right back on Annie.
“Hey,” he says.
Quiet.
Low.
The single word moves through her chest with frightening force. His voice still does that to her.
Annie opens her mouth. Nothing comes out.
Her throat tightens immediately, embarrassment following right behind it.
Annie clears her throat softly and tries again. “Hey.” The word comes quieter than she intended.
Smoke’s jaw tightens faintly at the sound of it.
Stack steps fully into the tension now, talking faster than usual. “Aight well—” he claps his hands once. “Look at everybody bein’ grown and reunited and shit.”
Pearline cuts her eyes toward him immediately.
Too much.
Too obvious.
Stack catches it half a second late.
“Not—” he corrects quickly. “Not reunited-reunited. Y’all know what I mean.”
Annie looks down instantly, fingers tightening around the edge of the kitchen island.
Smoke drags a hand slowly across his beard.
Nobody knows where to put themselves.
The apartment suddenly feels too warm.
Too small.
Too aware.
Smoke finally moves farther into the room after what feels like forever, but even then he keeps distance between them. A careful amount. Deliberate enough that Annie notices immediately.
That hurts too, because she remembers when Elijah used to close distance without thinking: A hand at her waist passing through rooms. Knees touching beneath tables. Pulling her between his legs while he sat on couches. Small things. Constant things.
Now he looks at her like getting too close might physically damage both of them.
Stack keeps talking. Something about the cookout. Liquor. Ice. Music. The words barely register. Annie becomes hyperaware of everything instead: Smoke setting his keys down near the counter. The faint scent of his cologne mixing into the apartment air. The way his fingers flex once against the marble countertop before flattening still.
As for Smoke—he notices everything too.
The long braids falling over Annie’s shoulder. Tiny gold hoops catching the kitchen light every time she turned her head. Deep brown skin glowing warm beneath the apartment lights, smooth enough to pull memory straight to the surface before Smoke could stop it. Big doe eyes lifting toward him for half a second before dropping away again, the same eyes that used to undo him at seventeen just by looking too long. The fitted shirt clinging softly to the full weight of her breasts, familiar enough to make something low in his stomach tightens. Bare legs beneath her shorts he remembered wrapped around his waist years ago. Gloss shining softly across full lips he used to kiss until neither of them could breathe straight.
His chest pulls tight enough to irritate him. None of this should still be happening.
Not after eight years.
Not after silence.
Not after hearing another nigga laugh in the background during one of their last phone calls before everything fell apart.
But standing here now? His body remembers her immediately.
Dangerously fast.
Pearline watches Annie carefully from across the kitchen. The tension rolling off her friend is almost visible. And suddenly Pearline understands something she really wishes she didn’t. Neither of them got over this.
Not even close.
Against her better judgment, her mind flashes briefly back to the restaurant. Jada beside Smoke. Close enough to matter. Her stomach twists, because Annie doesn’t know.
And judging by the way Annie keeps looking at Smoke now, soft despite herself, hurt despite herself, Pearline suddenly realizes finding the right moment to tell her is about to become a nightmare.
Stack keeps trying to fill the silence.
“Anyway,” he says loudly, grabbing water bottles from the fridge nobody asked for. “Tomorrow gon’ be cool. Everybody been askin’ about you, Annie.”
Smoke finally speaks again.
“When you get in?”
Simple question.
Still enough to pull every eye back toward him.
Annie looks up slowly. “Yesterday.”
Smoke nods once.
Yesterday.
Something unreadable crosses his face at that. Brief. Sharp. As if he’s quietly replaying the last twenty-four hours in his head trying to understand how she could’ve already been this close without him knowing.
Or did he?
“Yeah,” Stack jumps back in quickly. “Pearline picked her up from the airport.”
Smoke’s eyes flick briefly toward Pearline.
And immediately, she understands the look for exactly what it is.
You knew she was here.
You ain’t say shit?
Pearline leans back against the counter slightly, expression smooth.
She doesn’t apologize for it either.
Smoke holds her gaze another second before looking back at Annie.
“You stayin’ long?”
There it is.
The real question underneath the question.
Annie hears it immediately.
So does Pearline.
So does Stack.
How long do I have to survive this?
“I took a week off,” she says carefully. “After that…I don’t know yet.”
Smoke goes still again.
Somehow—that answer feels far too big for the room.
Stack twists the cap off a water bottle and tosses another one toward Smoke.
Smoke catches it automatically without looking away from Annie.
That somehow makes everything worse.
The movement is so familiar. So easy. Like his body still knows how to do things around her without thought involved. Annie watches his fingers close around the bottle and immediately hates herself for noticing something that small.
Stack keeps talking anyway, voice carrying too loud through the apartment now.
“So boom,” he says, forcing energy back into the room. “We still need charcoal, ice, liquor, and somebody gotta go pick up the meat tomorrow morning.”
“I already told you my uncle handling the meat,” Pearline says carefully, eyes flicking toward Annie again.
“Yeah, but your uncle also drink while he grill.”
“That’s seasoning.”
“It’s alcoholism.”
Pearline rolls her eyes hard enough to almost make Annie laugh again.
Almost.
Smoke finally looks away first, lowering his gaze to the bottle in his hand while twisting the cap loose. Annie exhales quietly before she can stop herself.
Pearline catches that too.
Of course she does.
“Anyway,” Stack says, talking faster now like he can force the room back to normal if he keeps moving. “Tomorrow still at Aunt Cheryl house, right?”
Pearline nods once. “Around four.”
Stack points toward Smoke. “You still bringing the speakers?”
Smoke opens his mouth automatically.
Then stops.
Because suddenly the cookout rearranges itself completely in his head.
Not random people.
Not some regular Saturday.
Annie.
Everybody gathering because Annie came home.
His jaw tightens faintly.
“…yeah,” he says finally.
But the answer sounds slower now.
Careful.
Like he’s realizing too many things at once.
Pearline watches the realization move across his face in real time.
And for one brief second—she remembers Jada sitting beside him in that restaurant booth.
Her stomach twists again immediately.
Stack nods too fast. “Bet, bet.”
Silence threatens again immediately after.
Everybody feels it.
Smoke leans back lightly against the counter near the door, keeping distance between himself and Annie even though the apartment suddenly feels too small for distance to matter. His eyes lift toward her again before dropping almost instantly this time.
Too late.
She catches it anyway.
The room presses tighter around her ribs, every glance from him feels unfinished. Like he keeps almost saying something.
Annie reaches for the water bottle nearest her mostly to give her hands something to do. Her fingers brush the cap once before another hand reaches past her shoulder at the exact same time.
Everything in her body locks.
Smoke stops too.
His arm stretches beside hers, close enough that she catches the warmth coming off his skin instantly. Cologne folds around her again, clean and dark and painfully familiar.
Nobody moves.
Not Stack.
Not Pearline.
Not Annie.
Smoke’s fingers hover near the bottle beside hers before slowly pulling back first.
“My bad,” he says quietly.
The apology wrecks her a little because Elijah never used to stop himself with her. Now even almost touching her seems to make him careful.
Annie swallows hard. “You good.” Her voice comes out softer than she meant it to.
Smoke’s jaw tightens faintly.
Stack looks between both of them so fast it almost gives him whiplash.
Pearline grabs her own drink immediately, clearly resisting the urge to intervene physically.
The silence stretches again.
Then Stack blurts, “So Annie apparently think my apartment ugly.”
Annie’s head snaps toward him instantly. “I never said that!”
“You implied it.”
“I literally did not.”
“You looked around judgmental as fuck.”
“I was impressed!”
Stack points dramatically. “AHA.”
For the first time since walking through the door, something close to amusement flickers briefly across Smoke’s face. Tiny. Gone almost immediately.
Annie catches it though and somehow that hurts too. She remembers how easily she used to make him smile. The memory moves through her chest before she can brace for it.
Stack keeps rambling. “See? That’s why Smoke the favorite. He don’t judge me.”
Smoke takes a sip from the bottle finally. “Your apartment nice.”
Stack looks vindicated instantly. “THANK you.”
“It still smell like weed though.”
Pearline barks out a laugh.
Stack points at Smoke in betrayal. “See now you switched sides.”
“Never had a side.”
“That’s cold.”
The room loosens slightly after that. Barely. Enough for breathing to return in pieces. Annie finally risks another look toward Smoke. Big mistake. He’s already looking at her again. Not even trying to hide it this time. Something deep and uncertain twists low in her stomach.
He looks overwhelmed. That’s the worst part. Not angry. Not detached.
Overwhelmed.
Like seeing her in person dismantled whatever version of this reunion he prepared himself for.
Stack clears his throat again, softer this time. “So…” He looks between both of them carefully now. “Tomorrow probably gon’ be a lot.”
Pearline cuts her eyes toward him immediately. Too direct. But Smoke answers anyway, gaze still resting on Annie.
“I’ll be aight.”
Annie’s breath catches slightly because the words don’t feel aimed at Stack at all. They feel aimed at her.
Or maybe himself.
Pearline notices that too and suddenly decides she’s had enough emotional Russian roulette for one afternoon.
“Aight, me and Annie bout to go,” she says abruptly, pushing off the counter. “We still gotta hit the store before all the good liquor gone.”
Stack blinks. “Right now?”
“Yes, right now.”
“We still got time—”
“No we don’t.” The look Pearline gives him shuts him up immediately.
Annie sets her bottle down carefully, pulse still uneven beneath her skin.
Smoke straightens from the counter the second she moves.
Automatic. Instinctive. Like some part of him is still tuned to her body whether he wants it to be or not. That realization moves visibly through both of them at the exact same time.
Dangerous.
Stack notices. Finally fully notices. And judging by the expression crossing his face now, the three-way phone call did not prepare him for how bad this actually is.
Smoke grabs his keys from the counter slowly. “I was finna head out anyway.”
Something sinks inside Annie’s chest hearing that. Too fast. He just got here. The thought embarrasses her immediately.
Pearline reaches for her purse. Stack starts talking again. Everybody moving at once now. Too much motion all of a sudden after standing emotionally exposed for nearly twenty minutes.
Smoke reaches the door first.
Then pauses.
Annie feels it before she even looks up.
When she finally does, Smoke is already staring at her again.
Quieter now.
Less shocked.
Worse somehow.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he says.
Not y’all.
You.
The word settles low and heavy between them. Annie’s throat tightens immediately. “Yeah,” she answers smiling slightly. “Tomorrow.”
Smoke holds her gaze one second longer.
Then leaves.
The apartment feels smaller the second he’s gone.
Stack starts talking immediately, trying to fill the silence like he always does. “Man, y’all some awkward-ass people. I should’ve charged admission for that.”
Pearline shoots him a look but says nothing, her eyes staying on Annie.
Annie doesn’t hear either of them.
Because Smoke’s cologne is still in the room.
That warm, woody scent with the faint edge of something clean, the same one he’s worn since he was a teen. It lingers in the air like it’s clinging to her. Like his absence is taking up more space than his presence did.
Her chest tightens.
And just like that, she’s yanked backward.
Flashback
The motel room was dim except for the cheap lamp buzzing softly on the nightstand. Late July heat pressed against the window even with the AC rattling hard beneath it. The air smelled faintly of bleach, warm skin, and the fast food Stack dropped off earlier before disappearing with a grin and his keys.
The sheets tangled around their legs, damp with sweat and the kind of closeness neither of them wanted to leave yet.
Annie lay on her side facing him, one leg thrown over Smoke’s hip. Her bare breasts pressed against his chest as his hand traced slow, absent circles along the curve of her spine. His other arm was tucked under her head like a pillow. Their skin stuck together wherever they touched, but neither of them moved away.
His heartbeat was steady under her palm.
She traced the small scar just below his collarbone with her fingertip, the one he got when he was fifteen trying to jump a barbed wire fence. She’d heard that story at least ten times, but she never got tired of touching it.
“You really think we can do this?” she whispered.
Smoke’s hand paused on her back, then continued its slow path down to the dip above her ass and back up again. His voice was low, rough from everything they’d just done and the hours of talking after.
“Yeah,” he said without hesitation. “I do.”
Annie lifted her head to look at him. His eyes were half-lidded, heavy with satisfaction and sleep, but still clear. Certain. That was what always undid her, how sure he could sound about things that terrified her.
“I’m gonna be so far away,” she said quietly. “And you gonna be here grindin’. What if—”
“We make it work.” He pulled her closer slowly. “You still gon’ be you. I’m still gon’ be me.”
She searched his face, looking for cracks. She found none.
“You say that now…”
“I’m sayin’ it ‘cause I mean it.” His hand slid up to cup the back of her neck, thumb brushing just behind her ear in that way that always made her melt. “I love you. That don’t change just ‘cause you movin’. You still mine when you come back.”
He rolled them gently so she was underneath him again, his weight comforting, grounding. He kissed her slower this time, her forehead, her cheek, and the corner of her mouth before settling beside her once more, pulling her into his chest. One of his legs slid between hers. Their bodies fit together like they’d been doing it forever.
For a while, neither of them spoke.
Just breathing. Skin on skin. The low hum of the AC and the occasional car passing outside.
In the quiet, Annie felt the fear anyway. Small. Sharp. What if distance changed things slowly instead of all at once? What if somebody else learned the shape of him while she was gone? What if coming home stopped feeling easy one day?
She pressed closer before the thoughts could settle too deep.
Smoke’s hand kept moving along her back in that same slow rhythm, as if he could hold them together through touch alone. His lips brushed the top of her head.
“We got this,” he murmured, voice heavy with sleep. “You and me.”
Annie closed her eyes and believed him.
Completely.
Back to Present
The memory released her as suddenly as it had pulled her in.
Annie blinked, eyes stinging. The apartment smelled like fresh cologne and old heartbreak. Stack was still talking. Pearline was watching her too closely.
She forced a small smile and nodded at something she hadn’t actually heard, but her chest felt raw.
Because eight years ago, in that cheap ass motel room, they had been so sure.
And now here they were, speaking carefully around a love that never really left either of them.
The apartment door closes behind them with a soft click.
For a second, neither Annie nor Pearline moves.
Then Pearline reaches for her keys while Annie starts down the stairs slowly beside her, one hand sliding along the warm metal railing.
The evening air feels heavier now.
Closer.
Their footsteps echo softly against the concrete while music drifts faintly through the apartment complex from nearby. Laughter echoes in the distance. A dog barking a few doors down.
Life keeps moving.
Meanwhile Annie feels like her entire world tilted sideways upstairs.
Pearline watches her carefully while they make their way down another flight. Annie looks dazed. Not in a dramatic way. A quiet one. Like she walked into that apartment expecting memory and accidentally found something alive instead.
“He looked at me the same.”
The words land low between them. Pearline’s chest tightens instantly, because Annie sounds almost confused by it. As if some part of her expected eight years to erase everything she saw written across that man’s face tonight.
Pearline leans lightly against the car door. “Girl…”
“I know,” Annie says quickly, already embarrassed. “I know how it sounds.”
“No,” Pearline says softly. “I don’t think you do.”
Annie looks away toward the apartment building again. Toward the floor Smoke walked out of minutes earlier. “He looked like…” She swallows. “I don’t know.”
Pearline watches her carefully.
Annie’s voice drops quieter. “…I still matter.”
Lord.
Pearline exhales slowly through her nose. Now she’s thinking about Jada again. That restaurant booth. Smoke leaning close. Jada smiling at him across the table, and suddenly the timing of all this feels dangerous as hell.
Annie finally climbs into the passenger seat.
Pearline opens the driver’s siide door, but stays outside. “I forgot my charger upstairs,” she lies smoothly.
Annie blinks. “Your charger right here.”
“It’s another one.”
Annie narrows her eyes slightly but doesn’t argue. “Okay…”
“I’ll be right back.”
Pearline shuts the door before Annie can question it further and heads back toward the building. By the time Stack opens the apartment door again, he already looks suspicious.
“You forgot somethin’?” he asks immediately.
Pearline walks past him into the apartment. “Please tell me yo’ brother got enough sense not to bring Jada’s pick me ass tomorrow.”
Stack’s entire face changes.
“…huh.”
Pearline turns toward him fully now, arms crossing tight. “I saw them at the restaurant yesterday.”
“Aw shit.”
“Exactly.”
Stack drags a hand over his mouth immediately. “Did Annie see?”
“No. Thank God.”
He exhales hard enough to puff his cheeks. “Okay. Okay.”
Pearline stares at him. “Why you sayin’ it like that?”
“‘Cause if Annie saw Smoke sittin’ up with Jada after the way them two was just lookin’ at each other up in here?” He shakes his head immediately. “Shiiit.”
Pearline walks farther into the apartment, agitation building again now that Annie isn’t standing in front of her. “I thought he was just fuckin’ her. I ain’t know they was out in public-public.”
“They not together,” Stack says quickly.
Pearline lifts an eyebrow. “You sure?”
“I mean…” Stack hesitates. “As far as I know.”
“That don’t make me feel better.”
Stack sighs, leaning back against the kitchen counter. “Smoke ain’t been serious about nobody since Annie.”
The apartment quiets a little after that.
Pearline looks toward the front door unconsciously, like Smoke or Annie might walk back in if she says their names too loud.
“She still love him,” she says finally.
Stack laughs once under his breath. Not because it’s funny, but it’s obvious. “Yeah,” he murmurs. “That man still love her too.”
Pearline presses her lips together.
“Then tomorrow finna be a mess.”
“Nah.” Stack shakes his head slowly. “Smoke got sense.”
Pearline snorts. “That’s debatable.”
Stack points toward her immediately. “Aight now. Don’t do my brother.”
“I’m serious.” Pearline steps closer again. “Please tell him don’t bring Jada tomorrow. Annie already nervous enough.”
Stack studies her face. “Y’all still on that high school shit?”
Pearline gives him a look. “Please. You remember how Jada used to act over your brother.”
Stack snorts softly. “Smoke ain’t even realize half that shit.”
Pearline folds her arms tighter. “Annie had that nigga nose so wide open, a girl could throw herself directly at him and he’d still miss the point.”
“That’s true.”
“Meanwhile Annie used to notice EVERYTHING.”
Stack studies her face for a while longer before nodding once.
“He won’t bring her.”
“You sound real confident.”
“After the way he looked at Annie tonight?” Stack shakes his head slowly. “Trust me. Jada the last thing on that nigga mind right now.”
Pearline’s stomach twists because deep down? She believes him. The realization softens her face before she can stop it.
Stack notices immediately. His voice drops lower. “You still mad at me?”
Pearline rolls her eyes instantly. “Boy.”
“I’m serious.”
“You always serious after you get caught.”
“That’s not true.”
“It absolutely is.”
Stack steps closer anyway.
Too close.
Pearline hates that her body notices immediately. Hates that he smells good. Hates that she wants to lean into him before he even touches her.
His hand settles lightly against her waist.
Familiar.
Warm.
“You was worried about Annie this whole time,” he murmurs. “Meanwhile you over here stressin’ yoself out too.”
Pearline sucks her teeth softly. “You think you know everythin’.”
“I know you.”
Fuck.
Pearline looks up at him.
Big Mistake.
He’s looking at her the same dangerous way he used to before they ended up tangled together somewhere making terrible decisions.
Stack’s thumb brushes once against her side.
Slow.
Pearline exhales carefully.
“See,” he murmurs. “Now you lookin’ at me all soft again.”
“Elias…”
“There she go.”
He smiles slightly when she says his full name.
Pearline hates that too.
For a second neither of them moves.
Then Pearline shoves lightly against his chest and steps back before her own hormones embarrass her.
“Bye, boy.”
Stack laughs immediately. “That push ain’t even got no strength behind it.”
“Goodbye!”
She heads toward the door fast enough to make him laugh harder behind her. But right before she leaves,
Stack calls after her again. “Seriously though.”
Pearline pauses.
Stack’s expression softens slightly. “Everything gon’ work out how it’s supposed to.”
Pearline studies him for a minute. Then snorts softly. “That sound nice.”
“It’s true.”
She opens the door. “Tell your brother not to piss me off tomorrow.”
Some tips and tricks I’ve seen on Tumblr, on Pinterest or have learned the hard way while writing. These are pretty basic but sometimes basic is good!
Realizing they can feel the person touching them. Maybe they’re not touching but they can feel the warmth.
Accidentally saying something flirty and both of you freeze. Or saying something flirty and the other person panicking and running away
Eyes dropping to lips. Eyes looking them up and down. Eyes unable to look away. Eyes unable to make contact without blushing. Eyes are you best friend.
Mirroring. When people have crushes or like someone (or want someone to like them) they do what is called mirroring. If character 1 crosses their arms and character 2 has a crush on them, have character 2 cross their arms too.
New Girl taught me about toes. If their feet are facing you, they want to stay. If their feet are pointed away, they want to leave. I’ve found its not always true but its something you can mention or use.
Unable to stop smiling. Unable to stop laughing.
Touching the other one when you laugh. Touching them to move them out of the way. Touching them and not moving your hand away
Hugging them when you see them. Sharing a bed. Trying to be near them at all moments.
Looking at their lips and fantasizing about kissing them.
Watching others interact in some way with them or how they act around them and being super jealous, wondering why they don’t act that way with you.
NOTICE: As more and more fanfic writers are using generative AI for their works (you uncreative dweebs), I hereby swear on everything I hold dear that I have not and will NEVER use generative AI in ANY of my written work. Everything I post will be organically and creatively my own.
Same her with me. You can tell my writing has improved over the years cause I actually take the time to perfect it. Even I make my own collages. I don’t have time for AI stuff🤣
NOTICE: As more and more fanfic writers are using generative AI for their works (you uncreative dweebs), I hereby swear on everything I hold dear that I have not and will NEVER use generative AI in ANY of my written work. Everything I post will be organically and creatively my own.
