“girl, what’s wrong with you? why you actin’ like that?”
Jey had been asking you that over and over for the past few minutes, and you could tell he was starting to get annoyed with every vaguely dismissive answer you responded with, but you honestly didn’t care.
you had been annoyed him for a few days because he hadn’t been showing you much attention, so it felt nice giving him a taste of his own medicine.
“Jey, i said i’m good, so just drop it.” you huffed, suppressing an eye roll, as you crossed your arms and avoid Jey’s gaze, causing his eyebrows to furrow a little and his eyes to linger on you for a moment before he chuckled lowly.
“mhm… well, fix whatever’s wrong with you ‘cause we ‘bout to go see Jim and ‘nem and i ain’t got time for them to be askin’ me stupid questions.” Jey warned, raising one of his eyebrows, as he grabbed his keys from the coffee table and you immediately rolled your eyes the moment his back was turned, grabbing your purse off of the couch and moving to follow him out of the living room.
“…whatever.” you mumbled quietly, the word barely audible over the harmonizing sound of you and Jey’s footsteps, as Jey suddenly paused mid-step and you nearly crashed into his back at his abrupt action, your eyebrows furrowing in slight confusion while you watched him turn around to face you.
there’s no way in hell he heard that smart remark over the sound of heavy shoes against a hardwood floor.
“what i say?” a slight clench formed in Jey’s jaw as he stared down at you, a warning clear as day in his tone, and you slightly bit down on your bottom lip to suppress another eye roll, opting to look away from him instead and off to the side.
“okay, i heard you. i’ma fix it.” you mumbled, your words barely audible, as you noticed him shift closer to you in the corner of your eye and felt his hand grab your jaw to turn your head towards him, forcing you to meet his dark eyes.
“you gon’ do what?” Jey asked, slightly tilting your head to make you properly look up at him, as you reluctantly maintained eye contact with him and swallowed thickly, feeling your resolve weaken just from his intimidating gaze.
“…i’ma fix it.”
“nah, you ain’t. we both know you ain’t. it’s cool though, i’ma fix it for you.”
you didn’t know how long it’d been since Jey started fucking some sense into you — maybe 30 minutes, or maybe even 3 hours. you couldn’t tell, and quite frankly, you couldn’t think about anything else except the way his hips were driving into you.
he had you bent over the couch arm with one hand tightly holding your wrists behind your back and the other holding onto the front of your neck, his grip firm yet careful enough not to actually hurt you, as he fucked into you at a quick pace, his pelvis roughly smacking against your ass while his dick dug deeply inside you.
“you gon’ fix that fuckin’ attitude? huh?”
“y-yessss! yes— i’ma fix itttt! i’ma f-fix it!”
his grip on your neck slightly tightened before he let go of it and grabbed a handful of your hair instead, yanking your head back and causing your arch to deepen. the action send a shiver down your spine and you let out a helpless mewl as your restricted hands balled up into tight fists, unable to do anything but surrender to his punishing thrusts.
“f-fuck— i’m s-sorry, baby, i-i’m sorryyyy,” you cried out desperately, your eyebrows furrowing deeply, as a pathetic whine fell from your lips and your eyes rolled back, intense pleasure starting to overwhelm you and send you straight into an orgasm, “i-i’m sorry, i’ll f-fix it— i’ma fix it, i swearrrr! p-please, Jeeeey!”
“yeah? you sorry? huh?” Jey’s grip tightened on your hair and the feeling sent a jolt of pleasurable pain through you as he yanked you up and pulled you into his chest, his hand leaving your hair to wrap around your neck again, “say it again and i might let you cum.”
“i’m sorry!” you squealed loudly, your thighs beginning to quiver, as Jey’s hand abruptly let go of your wrists and slid around to the front of you, his fingers finding your clit with ease and rubbing it in quick circles, “p-pleaseeee, let me c-cum, baby, i-i’m sorryyy! i’m s-soooo sorry— ughhh, please, please, pleaseee—”
“cum, mama. gon’ ahead and wet this dick up. show me how bad you want it.” the moment those words left Jey’s mouth, it was like all hell broke loose inside of you.
your hands shot out and tightly gripped the couch arm for dear life as your thighs shook uncontrollably and your eyebrows furrowed deeply, your eyes rolling so far back that only the whites were visible. your head abruptly fell back against his shoulder and your body completely tensed and seized up in his grasp as a small scrunch formed in the bridge of your nose and you cried out at the top of your lungs, your voice wavering while your climax roughly shot through you.
Jey’s strokes slowed and he continued to fuck you through your orgasm as his fingers on your clit moved away and he gripped your hip instead, his grip loosening on your neck while he pressed soft kisses against your earlobe and the side of your face to calm your body down from reaching its incredibly intense peak.
“the next time you get an attitude with me, i want that shit fixed the moment you say you gon’ fix it. you got that, ma?”
SUMMARY: inspired by “Feel It” by Jacquees + this TikTok + this edit + this other edit + in which Jermajesty can’t take his eyes off of you at your family’s Fourth of July gathering and eventually takes matters into his own hands when his arousal becomes too much to suppress. 🩷
Jermajesty was trying his hardest to behave around your family and you weren’t making it easy for him. his eyes hardly ever left you, even when both of you were pulled in various directions by different members of your family for different reasons, and his hands would linger on you, specifically on your waist or hips — and whenever you were called by someone and forced to leave his side, he’d give you a gentle squeeze before letting you go.
he honestly felt like he couldn’t help himself. you looked so pretty in your sundress that he couldn’t help but to imagine hiking it up around your waist and burying his face between your thighs to eat you out, or even bending you over and fisting the garment so it wouldn’t be in his way as he stroked you deeply. the color of it was so damn beautiful on you and gave your melanated skin such a precious glow that had him yearning to just feel you and kiss you all over.
there was one moment where Jermajesty’s composure almost slipped, and it was when you bent over and dug into a cooler to find a cluster of those barrel juices for your younger cousins. he wasn’t trying to stare at you while you did it, but the position you were in had your breasts pushing against the neckline of your dress and made your cleavage pop out more, and the mere sight of them made his breathing hitch.
that wasn’t the worse part of it, though — it was when you had to dig deeper into the cooler underneath all of the excess ice because you couldn’t find enough juices and you had to bend over just a little bit more, which put a small arch in your back and made your dress slightly outline the curve of your ass.
he almost lost his damn mind looking at you like that, and in order for him to lessen his chances of getting an erection in such an inappropriate environment, he had to quickly direct his attention to something else — it didn’t stop his jaw from clenching, though. luckily, nobody noticed his tension, or the way he ogled you, including you.
you were completely oblivious to the battle Jermajesty was internally fighting, and it only made him fight it harder. even the chaste sound of you calling him “baby” had him taking deep breaths to keep his blood from rushing straight down to his dick — but what ultimately cracked his composure is when you unintentionally pressed your ass into his crotch while the two of you were standing by and watching members of your family light up fireworks.
the tension in his body had reached its limit and you could tell by the way he had went completely still behind you, but you didn’t understand why he was so tense to begin with until he had practically dragged you away from the backyard and into the nearest bathroom inside your mom’s house, making you hope no one saw the two of you disappear even though everyone was occupied with either lighting fireworks or dancing to iconic blues songs that were played at every family gathering.
the moment Jermajesty pulled you into the bathroom and the door closed behind you, he didn’t let you get a word out before his mouth was on yours, kissing you feverishly yet desperately all at once. because you were unaware of his internal battle, the intensity of the kiss completely caught you off guard and cause you to stumble back into the bathroom door, but it didn’t stop you from melting into it.
once you kissed him back, you heard a soft sound emit from his vocals, the noise coming out as a whimper-like whine, and your hands moved to cradle the sides of his face as Jermajesty clutched your hips for dear life, his fingertips slightly digging into the fat of them while he pressed his body closer to you.
“i’m sorry… m’sorry…” Jermajesty whispered pathetically into the kiss before pulling back and looking down at you, your dazed eyes finding his intense eyes almost immediately, “fuck, i’m sorry, mama, i jus’— i need you so bad.”
“‘Maj—”
“please, baby,” Jermajesty pleaded softly as he pressed soft kisses along your jaw before lowering his head into the crook of your neck, continuing his kisses there while one of his hands left your hips to lock the door, “please let me have you. i promise i’ll be quick. please, ma…”
Jermajesty wasn’t really the begging type, and if he did beg, it’d always be in a playful kind of way, so to hear him genuinely yearn for you like this while kissing all over your neck had you soaking the seat of your panties quicker than you expected to — which ultimately led to you being bent over the bathroom counter and your wet underwear being pushed to the side.
he held your underwear to the side with one hand as he fisted the hem of your sundress and held it against the middle of your back with his other hand, your hands bracing themselves against the counter in anticipation for the fullness you were about to feel.
the moment he pushed inside of you, your jaw dropped and a soft gasp fell from your lips, but before any other sound could come out, his hand had quickly covered your mouth to muffle them, which only earned a whimper from you in response.
his other hand maintained its tight grip on your dress as he slid deeper and deeper inside of you, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth while his head lowered to rest against your shoulder.
“you feel so fuckin’ good…” Jermajesty moaned raggedly against your shoulder, his brows furrowing a little, as he buried himself to the hilt and a sharp exhale fell from his lips before he tucked his face into the crook of your neck, trying his hardest to muffle his own sounds from how good your pussy felt wrapped around him.
Jermajesty’s thrusts were deep and steady, sinking in and pulling back with a moderate tempo that wasn’t fast enough to create unwanted skin-slapping sounds that would give you away yet it had you clutching the counter for dear life.
your eyes rolled back into your head and you moaned pathetically into the palm of his hand as tingles spread throughout your body and a rhythmic thumping formed in your clit, your brows pinching together tightly while your body rocked with each push of your boyfriend’s hips.
both of you were fighting internally to keep your noises down and to a minimum, but neither of you could help the moans that the pleasurable act would occasionally pull from your vocal cords. you desperately hoped that none of your family members had realized you were gone, but you were hoping more than ever that nobody came to the bathroom where the two of you were.
suddenly, both of Jermajesty’s arms wrapped around your waist and held you tightly against him as he started fucking into you at a more rapid pace, a broken gasp of surprise falling from your lips the moment skin-slapping started to echo throughout the bathroom.
“baby, y-you— oh, fuuuuck,” you whined, your jaw going slack for a second time, as one of your hands left the counter and tightly clung to his arms, trying to tug and slap at them to gesture for him to slow down and let you go, “w-we gotta’ be quiet, ‘Maj’, you c-can’t—”
“mmh, i’m a-almost there, mama, please…” Jermajesty moaned against your neck, tightening his hold on you, as he continued his quick thrusts and felt your ass bounce against his pelvis, a deep groan falling from his lips once he felt your walls start to spasm around his dick, “shit, i feel you, baby, c’mon. cum on this dick f’me, pretty, give it to me. cum wit’ me, ma.”
you parted your lips to protest against his quickened thrusts, but a cry of pleasure fell from your open mouth instead as your orgasm rushed through you and you came on his dick like he commanded, your head slumping forward and your eyes rolling back while your hips jerked. your own climax triggered Jermajesty’s and his arms squeezed you for a final time as his hips stuttered twice before deeply pushing forward, his body shuddering while he came deep inside you.
you gasped softly at the sensation and your body stiffened for a moment before relaxing into his, soft and heavy pants falling from both of your lips in unison while the two of you came down from your orgasms. Jermajesty’s arms loosened around your waist but didn’t move any further than that, and he pressed a soft kiss against the side of your neck before raising his head towards your ear.
Warnings: MDNI • Terry Richmond x Black!OC, Self!Insert, a lil fluff, angst, descriptions of a triggering dream, vague mentions of a toxic work environment, pet-names, and nicknames...etc.
Summary: 𝑹𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒄𝒆, 𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆. After a short phone call with Cleo, where Terry learns of her draining day, he goes into work against his better judgement. When they finally gets to check on the woman who has had his attention as of lately,
Word Count: 1.9k❣
A/N: This was complete and supposed to drop on Monday 🌚 👉🏾👈🏾 Sawry y’all Imma start scheduling them cause I can be a lil forgetful 😭 Let me know your thoughts in the comments, and as always, I hope you enjoy! Thank you for reading!
• • •
𝑨 𝒃𝒍𝒂𝒄𝒌 𝒕𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒂𝒍 𝒃𝒐𝒐𝒕 𝒕𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒆𝒅 𝒐𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒈𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅, nearly matching the tick of each second that had gone by. He’d glanced at his watch at least thrice as much as any other day, and it seemed like he was talking just as fast too.
He really couldn’t help himself.
Terry loved his job, but with Cleo on his mind and his whole body telling him to go check on her, he couldn’t wait for the shift to be over. Just as the clock made it to 1:58pm, he shuffled to the back room, through to his office to store his walkie, his stun gun and his badge.
As his team of guards piled into the backroom to get ready for the drive home, he could hear light chatter and a couple yawns. Terry, on the other hand was damn near bouncing around his office as he rushed to close up. After checking his pockets for his keys and his wallet, the man hit a determined stride towards the door, mumbling praises and quick jokes to each guard. Right before he left, though, he appointed someone by name to lock all the way up, then he was out.
His shoes barely made sound on the ground beneath him, as he got to his truck. He made quick work of unlocking his driver’s door and getting in, nearly slamming the door closed. By habit, he locked his car around him, and in the silence, he let out a long breath.
Am I acting crazy? Or is it normal to worry about someone like this?
It had been a while since he cared enough to make someone else’s trouble an urgency for him.
Yet, even as he took his deep breaths and thought about the fact that Cleo was probably sleep in her bed, all snug and safe, he just couldn’t shake that feeling. That feeling that told him he needed to be sure that she was okay, that he had to look in her eyes and see it for himself.
So, he put his key in the ignition and turned his car on, then reached to his left to grab his seatbelt. As soon as the metal clicked into its holder, he tapped on his CarPlay screen and navigated right to his Phone app, and to his recents. With a click of her name, he sat patiently as he heard the call ring through, but he didn’t care to leave a message.
He had his mind set. And whenever that was the case, it was seldom to change.
• • •
𝑺𝒖𝒓𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒍 𝒔𝒄𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒔 𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒚𝒆𝒅 𝒃𝒆𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒈 𝒘𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏'𝒔 𝒆𝒚𝒆𝒔. The set designs, places she felt like she remembered but, were colored wrong. Mapped a little too wide, a little too short. Faces passed her as she stood in the middle of a large staircase. It could’ve belonged to her high-school. Maybe it looked this way before she ever entered the building.
At first, it was silent, muted. Every color contorted to match the setting she once spent most of her days in. Bodies sped by her in a blur, and then her boss entered the staircase behind her.
"Are you still on break? Where are all the clients? Is everyone showing up?" Her mouth didn’t move, but her eyes widened, her eyebrows furrowed, she stepped closer.
Cleo backed up, but the woman persisted. More questions, less space, growing threats. Soon, she was hearing that her paycheck was in jeopardy, and that everyone else had to get checks before they could even calculate hers.
A loud chime cut through the air, shaking every stair with impact. Was it an alarm? The school bell?
Whatever it was stopped Cleo’s boss in her tracks.
Every color around them fled to the ceiling, overlapping one another, fighting to reach the blackness above. Soon, even she faded, and all that was left was the darkness and the chimes.
Brown doe eyes opened to her pitch black room. Beside her, her phone buzzed against her covers, the ringtone echoing through her room.
Her limbs were static against her mattress, but she nudged herself forward to grab her phone. On the last ring, she finally picked up to greet Terry on the other line.
"Hey, Terry." She yawned into her hand as she listened on for the attentive man’s voice.
"Hey, sleepyhead. I need you to send me your location, I want to come check on you.”
"I’m fine, Terry. But, you can definitely come get me for breakfast.” The sleep ridden rasp mixed with her soft tone nearly had Terry biting his lip. But, even with her constant assurance, he just wouldn’t take her word for it.
"Nah, I mean right now."
A beat of silence passes between them then, Terry lets out a soft sigh.
“I’ve been thinking about you all shift, I just gotta see your face for myself. Then, I’ll be good.”
Though the request was truly unfamiliar, Cleo could feel the sincerity in his voice. She hadn’t meant to worry him, but now she realized that she’d made her bed.
"Okay."
She tapped through her phone to her iMessage app, where she clicked on Terry's contact name to see their info. Within the next second, she was sharing her location, while they sat in a comfortable silence. Just as quick as she sent it, she could hear Terry's phone vibrate with the notification.
"Alright, I’m on my way."
• • •
𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒓𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒄𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒏 𝒆𝒙𝒑𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒅. But at this time of night, there weren't many people on the road anyway. It was 3:27am when he pulled up.
The sound of his truck's engine cut through the monotonous chirps of crickets outside, alerting her of his arrival. As she flipped her blanket off of her body, she let her feet carry her off her bed and through her apartment. Almost as soon as she heard his knuckles knocking against the painted wood door, her hand was on the door knob to open it.
Terry stood tall, determined. Mossy eyes glossed over, and his jaw was tense like he had been gritting his teeth the whole way there. Cleo looked up with tired eyes, the bags under each eye were slight, yet, still noticeable. Her scleras were dim, pupils dark and reflective. Both of her shoulders sat high on her body like bricks.
The young woman opened the door further for her visitor, watching nothing but the floor as he walked in. After she locked her place back up, she turned around to see Terry’s arms outstretched for her. Her eyes stung with tears, and her tired feet carried her to him swiftly.
His hug felt like the last glass of water on a deserted earth.
He bent to meet her, his arms wrapping tight around her torso. Each of his hands met the other side of her body for a true bear hug. She stood on the tips of her toes to hold him, each arm around his neck. And in a position that would otherwise feel uncomfortable, she just didn’t want to let go.
Her every bone, muscle and ligament melded into his, even with their clothes between them.
His hold sought to ease her pain, make her steps lighter. He squeezed like if he didn’t, she would wither away. That’s what it felt like.
After a while of silence Terry began to pull away, but Cleo made fists in his hoodie, holding him in place. So he stayed.
Seconds passed, and they stayed. She sniffled, he rubbed her side. He shifted, she held him closer. It was nearly a whole minute before she pulled away.
“Still don’t wanna talk about it?”
Cleo shook her head side-to-side as she looked in his eyes. Though she tried at words, her reply halted in her throat.
“I…I-”
Then the tears came up again, untamed, unwelcome. But she had to let it out.
She had been holding them in for too long now.
“It’s okay, Cleo.” He rubbed her back with his large, warm hand. Effectively soothing her as if she was a baby feeling her parent’s touch for the first time. “When you’re ready.”
There was nothing else in this world that could aid in her healing like his soft touch, his affirming words. Her body was nearly limp in his embrace, feeling the gravity of his care, his tenderness.
It wasn’t long until she felt better. Better, enough.
His words were gentle, doting. But his face stayed pouty and scowled, even as Cleo pulled away from his hold. She brought both hands to her face to wipe at the tears, but she knew her pretty copper skin was already stained.
“Terry…” She trailed off, wrapping her arms back around him, but this time, she hugged at his waist. Her head leaned up as she looked directly into his eyes and he stared right back.
“You gon’ have to stop calling me by my government.”
Finally, his plump pink lips parted for a smile and she joined him with a close-lipped grin of her own.
“Ain’t Cleo short for Cleopatra?” He squinted his eyes, a laugh following shortly after his question.
“Yes, but nobody uses my full name… Except for my family. But everyone calls me Cleo, you still gotta shorten it for me. Make it cute.”
Terry feigned a blank face for her as he racked his brain for options.
“How much shorter can I make it? You want a ‘C’ for Cleo?”
In a split second, her eyes sparkled, like she had received a diamond ring.
“I like it.”
He would’ve teased her, if her little voice didn’t make his heart swell. But as he felt that radiation of warmth in his chest, he couldn’t bring himself to ruin the moment.
“I want you to know you can talk to me, baby-girl. About anything. And I’ma keep showing up until I prove it to you.”
“Thank you.” She nearly whispers, her eyes not moving a bit. Terry’s eyes flickered to her lips, soft and plush looking. He almost felt bad about loving the deep pink hue that filled her lips, due to her crying.
When he looked back up into her eyes, she purposefully returned the gesture. Her lids lowered just slightly as her eyes traveled down his pretty face to those big lips. She fought herself to not bite her own.
His rushed breath in was followed closely by a steady exhale, and he leaned an inch forward.
“Can I kiss you?” Clear, soft, direct.
“Yes.”
Cleo’s eyes traveled back up his face, seeing this eyes were steady watching her mouth. Matching her focus to his, she leaned her chin up to meet him.
Terry’s kiss reached her like a remedy. Slow, measured. He applied just the right amount of pressure and levity to have her floating; her body moved further and further up to reach him.
Their lips stuck to one another in their complete and utter closeness, and he held her even closer. He rested his arms against hers, wrapping his arms around the small of her back.
A smile cracked through their kiss and C pulled away just a little. She loved how he always kept it respectful, it made her wonder what he would be like completely unrestrained.
“My Teddy Bear.” She cooed, bringing her lips back to his for a quick peck.
“Oh, I’m yours now?” He joked, holding her steady as she kept holding herself up with only her tippy toes.
“Yup, I’mma keep you for a little while.”
• • •
I do not condone any translations, replications or plagiarisms of my original work. Please do not repost as your own. Reblogs and comments/notes welcome. ♥︎
summary: Just a short blurb about having sex with Cameron in your in-home sauna
cw: smutty(per usual), sauna sex, unprotected piv(dont be like them), mentions of injuries, praise.
a/n: This has been sitting in my drafts since march and i just want it out. Thank you for the love on my last two fics! I don’t how saunas or football works so be warned!
Football practice had been kicking Cameron’s ass, leaving him with throbbing headaches and a fresh set of bruises along his ribs. This was his first weekend off since the season started and all he wanted to do was spend time with his wife and relax.
As soon as he stepped into your shared home, he followed your scent to the kitchen where you were eating a sandwich. “Hello my love.” Your face immediately softened and mouth turned into a smile. You leaned up from the kitchen island and walked over to him.
The heavy gear bag slipped from his shoulder, hitting the floor forgotten as his arms wrapped around your waist. You squeezed him back which caused him to groan. You pulled away almost instantly. “More bruising?” You didn’t even have to ask; you knew football took a toll on his body and it pained you to see him like this.
“Baby i’m fine. I just need to relax,” He paused leaned back in to kissed you softly. “With you.” The reassurance only made you feel somewhat better but you still worried about him.
“Whatever, I just started the sauna. Take these sweaty ass clothes off and come on.” He groaned exaggeratedly as you shoved past him, but you didn’t miss the way his eyes trailed as you swayed down the long hallway towards your in home gym, which had a sauna connected to it.
The coolness of the gym simmered away as soon as you stepped into the sauna. You peeled off your clothes, that were already sticking to your body, and tossed them to the bench outside the door. Cameron finally made his way in, just as you were grabbing a towel and wrapping it around yourself.
“I missed the show?” He pouted, getting rid of his articles of clothing the closer he got to the heat. As he got closer, you could see where the bruising impacted him the most. Red, purple, blues marks scattered all over. He wrapped a towel around his waist and closed the door behind him.
The two of you, sat on benches opposite of each other and he watched you as you watched him. Your eyes lingering on the bruises along his ribs.
“Hey, look at me.” He called softly and you snapped out of your trance and met his eyes. “I’m good. I swear.” You didn’t utter another word, just nodded and got up. The heat wrapping around you the more you moved. You walked a few steps and sat gently on his lap, mindful of his sides.
“This okay?”
He nodded and his hands slid up to your hips instinctively. “I missed you baby.” You rubbed at his tense shoulders soothingly and felt all the tension from the past weeks wash away.
His fingers slid to your thighs, digging into them. Your skin was sticking to his like glue, the more the thin towel was starting to ride up. His soft blue eyes now dark with hunger, and a hint of exhaustion.
“I’ve been stuck in practices and conference rooms for weeks,” He rasped, leaning forward and pulling you chest to chest with him, not even caring about his minor injuries anymore.
“Not able to smell you..” His nose found it’s way to your neck and inhaled deeply. He could smell that sweet vanilla scent you always wore that drove him crazy.
“Touch you…” He rasped and his heated hands slid higher up your thighs until they reached your ass and gave it a possessive squeeze.
“Kiss you.” He mumbled in your neck and left a soft peck there before moving up. He teased and kissed you all over your face, avoiding where you needed his lips the most.
“Cam…” You began but he hushed you and leaned in, colliding your lips together in a deep passionate kiss. Your arms wrapped around his neck as the kiss got deeper.
This is what you’ve needed—what you both needed. Every time you two spent time apart, you came back 10x stronger and that’s what made you work.
He lifted your hips while keeping his lips locked with yours and pulled the towels off the both of you. He sat your bare ass against his still clothed lap.
Cameron started guiding your hips against his bulge. He had that smug smirk on his face like he knew exactly what he was doing.
“Stop teasing! I thought you missed me.” Laughter erupted between the two of you and Cameron shifted to pick you up and laid you on the bench.
“Wait your ribs-” He hushed you and slid his underwear down and tossed them aside. “A couple of bruised ribs aren’t stopping me from greeting my girl properly. “Now legs up.”
One leg was pressed against the wall and the other was dangling off the sauna bench. Cameron looked down at the beautiful mess between your legs in awe.
“All this,” He dragged his tip through your soaked folds. “For me, pretty?” You squirmed when he tapped it against your clit.
You gave him a look that told him to stop playing. He snickered a bit before lining himself up and pushing into you. Both of you let out an exhale of relief.
It had been too long since you had each other like this and Cameron was gonna make sure he made up for the weeks he was away.
“I missed how warm this pussy is.” He groaned and gripped the back of your knee, pushing your leg further down. He was hardly moving, just merely admiring what he did to you.
The first roll of his hips had chills going up your spine and eyes fluttering to the back of your head. He leaned down the best he could and cradled your head.
“Look at me, baby.” Another slow but deep thrust from him, along with the sound of his voice, made your eyes open. He was looking down at you with those darkened blue eyes.
Your hands clawed at the edge of the bench and the wall next to your head. You didn’t want to grab him out of fear of worsening his pain. Cameron started a steady rhythm that had you struggling to maintain eye contact.
From the angle at which he was holding your head, you could see where the two of you connected and how much you were coating his cock with your slickness. “I missed you so much.” You whispered as your eyes flickered between his and where the two of you connected. He let out a small hum in response and kept going—clearly lost in the pleasure.
You raised one of your hands and cupped his face. Without thinking, you pushed your thumb against his lips which he gladly took into his mouth. His hips never faltered; if anything, they sped up.
“You look so good like this.” You moaned. “Fucking me so good, my love.” He moaned around your thumb in response and you slid it out. You wanted to hear him loud and clear.
“I love you so much, sweet girl.” His voice was raspy, likely from the humidity of the room. “I love you too.” You breathed out. His hands shifted, one on your boob and the other trailed down your stomach and started circling your clit with his thumb.
Cameron sat up with a few pained groans. He was close and needed close with him. “Come on, baby. I wanna see this pussy gush.” He pushed himself deeper in you while pushing your leg further into your chest.
His efforts to make you cum were working. His fingers rubbed and flicked your nipples, his encouraging yet nasty words filled your ears, and his thumb worked overtime on your clit. It was all pushing you closer to the edge.
When you began squirming and stuttering, he knew he had you. “Come on. Give it to me. You know what I want.” He talked you through it, knowing exactly what to do and say to get you to cum.
A broken cry left your throat and you couldn’t help but grip his arms as your orgasm hit you. Cameron scooped you up in his arms, bringing you together with a passionate kiss while he coated your insides with his cum.
The two of you sat like that for a while, just enjoying the silence and each other’s presence. A few minutes passed and he finally pulled out. He watched as your combined fluids leaked out of you.
“Ugh we need a shower.” Your bodies were damp and now even stickier than before. Cameron chuckled and picked you up off the bench. He started walking you out of the sauna without another thought. “Cam, our clothes!”
He glanced back but then waved you off. “Well come back for ’em. We got a lot more greeting to do.”
Crystal flinched, gasping at the sound of her husband's voice as he appeared behind her in the bathroom mirror. “Oh my god, Mike.” One hand clutched to her chest, the other gripping the edge of the sink, she leaned toward it taking a relieved breath. “I didn't even hear you come in here.”
“I was being stealthy.” He wore a silly smile on his face, but she wasn't as amused, frowning just slightly.
“You scared the shit out of me.”
“My bad," he laughed, quietly, "I didn't mean to.”
“And aren’t you early?”
“Ok, so, check this out.” He stepped closer, placing his hands onto the marble down at her sides, caging her in. “I been thinkin' about you aaaall day, baby. And I couldn’t wait to get home.”
She dried her hands on the small towel hanging next to her, grinning up at his scrumptious reflection. “You missed me?”
“Mhm. So bad, baby.”
A bigger smile was creeping onto her face as he sat his hat and glasses down by the sink, but then she realized something. Her brows scrunched in confusion. “Why are we talking so low?”
“Tink is sleep.”
“Oh, ok. That must’ve just happened.”
“Which means we got 'bout fifteen minutes, give or take,” he said, hurrying out of his t-shirt and tossing it to the floor.
Her head jerked forward, lips pursed, but she was only partially confused now. “Um, to do what?”
Ignoring her completely, he curved his arms around her waist and licked his lips, trailing wet kisses at the crook of her neck.
“Nope.” She whipped around to face him, throwing her hands up to his bare chest before he could wrap her up too tightly. Or get her too loose.
“Why not?”
He was frowning like she was the one not making any sense. So, naturally, she frowned back, aware that he was the actual crazy person.
“Baby, what if she wakes up? What if she walks in here?”
He shrugged. “Lock the door.”
“But, then, what if she needs one of us and we’re in here with the door locked? Being nasty.”
“Baby, I need you.”
“Mike, you gotta focus, boo,” she instructed, snapping her fingers near his face. “Focus.”
He sighed and dropped his head in defeat. He knew she was right, but his hunger was outpacing all of his good sense right now. “If she needs one of us, I can move quickly.”
“Ok, but she’s right in our bed. What if she hears something? She could be scarred for the rest of her little life.”
“Simple. You the loud one. Just be quiet.”
Her eyes widened as her jaw fell slack, into a smile. “Not ‘Mr. huff and puff, moan and groan’ tryna play me--” They both ducked into near-silent laughter, throwing their hands up to catch the noise before it could go too far. “You be quiet, too, shit.”
“Ok, ok. I will. So, come ooon.” He pressed his body against her plushness, allowing her to feel all the frustration he'd been carrying around with him. Her stomach did a violent flip.
“Mike… I don’t know about this.” She bit her bottom lip, carefully sliding her hands down to his abs, knowing she was very close to giving in. He knew it, too.
“Mama… please," he whispered right against her ear, grazing it lightly with his soft lips. "You know you love the way I make you feel.”
He raised one of her legs and pushed himself even closer, sinking his starving fingers into the suppleness of her thigh. The desperation in his words as well as his unsteady movements had her soaking her panties.
“Baby,” she released a frustrated sigh, “...we can’t. Not while Tink’s in here.”
“But she’s asleep, Crys. Come on, we wastin' precious time.”
She stared at him for a second, just to see how serious he was. He stared back with the eyes of a man who didn’t have a playing bone in his body. Without warning, he grabbed her waist and lifted her up onto the sink, sending more than a few of her products tumbling. One even rolled onto the floor.
“Michael!” she whispered, intensely.
“Just let me…” he begged, going straight for her lips. She dodged his kiss, but his hand was caressing her thigh and slowly creeping up her shorts. “Let me make that pussy feel good.”
She gasped when his lips touched her neck right as those filthy words entered her ears. He was talking to her like their baby wasn’t right in the next room. His brain wasn’t in full control and hers was about to follow, her glossy walls clenching around nothing, begging to be touched.
"But, babe, you know it's just a cat nap. She ain't even sleep for real," she breathed, eyes closed, neck stretched out and giving him more space.
"We got 'bout ten minutes now."
He was relentless. In the moment, there was only one logical thing she could think to do. She knew she would pay handsomely for it later, but that was a problem for future Crystal. “…Tink, baby, daddy’s home!” she suddenly yelled, covering her face right after.
She watched through her fingers as he backed away, blinking slowly, eyes wide. “Crys…” he whispered. She licked her tongue out at him, laughing uncontrollably at the genuine shock in his expression. He shook his head, unable to hold his laughs seeing her lose it. "I can't believe you, girl.”
"I'm sorryyyy! I didn't know what else to doooo!"
His head slumped back and he huffed toward the ceiling, so dramatically. Of course, she just laughed harder. About two seconds later, Tink ran into the bathroom with a huge smile, rubbing the residual sleep from her eyes. “Daddyyyy!”
“Tiiiiiink!” He scooped his baby girl up, peppering kisses onto her cute little face through her giggles. Then he turned back to Crys swinging her legs up on the sink, and cupped his hand over Tink's ear. “That ass gettin' put smoove through the mattress tonight. Believe that.” Crys' mouth dropped. He'd spoken softly, but he didn't want that to curb the severity of his statement. “And I'm not playin'.”
"Oop!" She pulled her lips in and bit them, letting her head fall. She knew she was in trouble, but it was undoubtedly her favorite kind. She couldn't wait for the sun to go down. "Well, put me through it then."
prior to meeting elijah your past relationships weren’t the best—you didn’t have the greatest taste in men and it showed. the boyfriends, if you can even call them that lacked all the characteristics smoke had. they didn’t hold the door for you, buy you flowers, some couldn’t even change a damn tire.
the very first date you guys had was at a nice restaurant downtown. he had finally gotten a day off work and wanted to use it to take the prettiest girl he had met out for a day you deserved. “here’s the bill, i hope you guys enjoyed”, the waiter chirped with a short smile—setting the bill down. you lifted your hand to grab the bill, “what are you doing?”, elijah asked with a confused look. “paying the bill, what do you mean?” — “no ma’am i got it, move those pretty hands back.”
smoke love language is acts of service, he can’t always put it into words how he feels about you but he can show his ole lady how he appreciates her through his actions.
you’ll come home from a long tiresome day at work and your sweet elijah is already there waiting for you on the couch. your favorite tv show or movie turned on, dinner on the stove, snacks to keep you company, and just him. cater 2 you by destiny child? yeah that’s elijah. he’ll gently remove your shoes and place your manicured toes that he paid for might i add, onto his lap and just massage your feet while listening to your day.
smoke’s acts of service definitely is present in the bedroom. he wouldn’t even think about busting a nut until he got you to release that sweet cream at least twice. “come on darlin, you can give me one more right?” southern accent dripping in his voice—his large fingers digging at your sweet spot while rubbing on your sensitive clit. “see i think she can give me on more.”
elijah may not talk as much during sex, but he craves for you to talk to him. he’ll have you folded up in missionary, right leg draped over his shoulder with his plump lips leaving fat wet kissing on your ankle with the anklet that had his name. “come on baby talk to me, how i feel in this good ass pussy, huh?”, slowing down his strokes so you can respond.
a/n :: the people wanted smoke ... i delivered! no guys i felt so excited writing this like omg, i need to fuck this man NEOWW. i almost went overboard on this lil intro tho. i will be continuing and if i don’t yall got permission to cuss me out. also i know @aizawash0e did a firefighter!stack so shoutout to her.
Pairing: Erik "Killmonger" Stevens x Plus Size Fem Black!OC
Wordcount: +1.9K
Warnings: MDNI (18+) mature content, such as cursing, teasing, heavily dialogue-centered, use of Daddy, Mama, and other pet names (lil' mama, pretty girl, good boy, etc.), oral (female receiving), spanking, Dom!Erik, orgasm denial, pure filth
A/N¹: This is a single one-shot with no planned sequels.
A/N²: I'm open to critiques. I am a little 🤏🏽 sensitive about my writing. Please, don't be too harsh.🥺 Feel free to bring my attention to any typos. Divider by @firefly-graphics. Also, this work is not to be plagiarized or reposted (on any site other than here on Tumblr). I do NOT give consent for any form of republishing or rewriting.
Masterlist: 🔥🔥🔥
Of course, Erik didn't know the monster he created. Last night, he had given his girlfriend Amelia his credit card and told her to buy her books. Amelia was immediately struck by decision fatigue. Her TBR list was well over 100 books at this point. When she whined about not knowing what books to choose, Erik told her to buy them ALL. Amelia initially laughed at Erik, not taking a word he said seriously; however, the look he gave her let her know he was beyond serious.
He had given her the card the night before. She sat up all night anxiously going through her TBR. She narrowed the list to 52 must-haves and 67 maybes, not including the 34 she deleted after reading the recent reviews.
Amelia had spent all morning in her favorite local bookstores and Barnes & Noble. She became flustered once she started realizing how much she would be paying. So, she called Erik and asked for his “approval” again. He responded with a laugh and comment about letting her do it again. This had Amelia excited at the thought.
While in the stores, she would first search for the books on her must-haves. Then, she would look for the maybes. She would scan over the synopsis and maybe the first page before deciding. She did this same routine in every store she went into.
After such a strenuous morning, Amelia was exhausted but excited upon returning home. She knew exactly the book she wanted to read first. She had showered and changed back into her nightgown. She climbed onto the bed and searched through the hoard of books. Amelia had tried her best to keep the books separated by genre to help her sort them.
There it was— a book she had wanted since its release five months ago. Amelia was back in her happy place as she lay on her tummy across Erik's bed, facing the headboard. She held the book and began kicking her feet in bliss. She opened the book and began to read the prologue before remembering that she didn't want any distractions. She grabbed her phone and placed it on DND. Tossing her phone somewhere behind her, she began to read again.
4 hours later
Unbeknownst to Amelia, hours had passed. Many hours. Her phone was still on DND, so she was unaware of Erik's 13 missed calls and 8 unread text messages. Unfortunately, she also didn't know he was on his way home.
As Amelia lay reading, Erik arrived at his home. He was pissed. Amelia had ignored him all day. He was a little paranoid about these kinds of situations considering the life he lived before meeting her.
Erik unlocked the door quietly checking for any signs of forced entry. He slowly crept through the house. As he approached the back rooms, the only light visible was coming from under his bedroom door. He could hear what sounded like Amelia laughing, but he was too unsure. He unsheathed his Glock and held it in his hands. As he inched closer to the door, he quieted his steps. Putting his stealth skills to use, he leaned against the door using the weight of his body to stop it from creaking as he opened it.
Awaiting him was an exhausted Amelia. She was facing away from him still completely unaware of his presence. He had always told her she had the self-awareness of a toddler.
He slowly placed his gun into his waistband. Trying his hardest not to startle or alert her to his presence, he crept up to the foot of the bed. He grabbed Amelia's left foot and dragged her to the edge of the bed. “Princess!” Erik says flipping Amelia over onto her back causing the book to slip from her hands. “Erik!” she screamed. She was still unsure how this man could toss her around so easily.
“Busy?” he asked folding his arms across his chest. “Umm…,” Amelia said sitting on her knees at the edge of the bed. She leaned up to give Erik an apologetic kiss. “Where's your phone?” he asked uncrossing his arms.
Amelia turned around and began searching for the phone in the bed. Piles of books were everywhere— an assortment of thrillers, romance, erotica, mystery, fantasy, and more. She knew it was there somewhere. She found it and looked at the screen. 13 missed calls and 8 unread text messages from “Daddy😈”. She turned back around to see Erik cracking his knuckles.
Uh oh
“So, you were reading all day? Is that why you were ignoring me, baby girl?” Erik said caressing her cheek. “Yes, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I just really…” she said putting her hands on his shoulders. “That's unacceptable, and you know that,” he said putting his right hand on the side of her neck. He used his thumb to stroke over the front of her throat., teasing her. Amelia swallowed because she knew what was coming— a punishment fit for his princess.
Erik stood there staring at Amelia's throat. “Where's the book you were just reading?” Erik asked stilling his movements. She pointed behind her to the only opened book on the bed. She was growing anxious by the second. Amelia began to whimper in desperation, trying to craft a scheme to escape this.
Erik's eyes shot up to meet Amelia's now brimming with tears. “Amelia, baby?” Erik lulled. “Yes, Daddy?” she asked hoping this would absolve her of her discretions. Considering that it was an honest mistake, she hoped he would be lenient. “Shut that shit up,” he said in the most level tone. He didn't raise his voice a decibel, but Amelia knew.
“Since you wanna read so much, read to me. I wanna see what's got you so distracted,” Erik said leaning over grabbing the book and handing it to Amelia.
4 orgasms denials later
Amelia was fighting for her life. Erik was eating her out from the back and forcing her to read the book aloud simultaneously. Every time she slipped up or stopped he lit her ass up like a Christmas tree.
His tongue sliding up and down her folds over and over again was driving her insane. She continued to read while breathing out ragged breaths. He was positioned right behind her on the bed. His tongue was warm and slick from her juices.
Erik leaned up and sat directly between her legs. He used his arms to flip Amelia over onto her back in one swift move. She yelled out in shock. Amelia looked down pleading to Erik with her eyes. He scoffed at her attempt to use her puppy dog eyes against him. He sat back and looked at Amelia's sloppy pussy and swollen clit. He took his hand and slid it up and down her slit, coating his fingers in her cum.
He brought his hand to his mouth and began to suck on his fingers. Amelia stopped to stare at Erik in awe. Without even losing focus on his task at hand, he used his other hand to smack Amelia's already swollen clit. “I didn't tell you to stop!” he barked while removing his fingers from his mouth. Amelia tried to continue reading but could feel Erik shifting between her legs.
Amelia turned the page and peeked under the book. She could see Erik's hand lining up with her pussy again. She felt his middle and index fingers slide into her wet pussy with a squelch. She moaned out and clenched her pussy around his fingers. He began to drive his fingers upward against her g-spot. He was merciless while fingerfucking her.
She started stuttering and closed her eyes too caught up in bliss. Erik used his free hand to smack the outside of her thigh. The sound echoed through the room. The thickness of her thighs provided no cushion for the blows he was dishing out. If anything, it was giving him more to work with. Her ass was already obliterated— red, swollen, and covered in welts.
They had been at this for almost an hour because of how well he was dragging out his teasing. She was tired of being denied but knew she held no power in this situation. All she could do was take it.
He leaned over Amelia's body pushing her knees up to her chest. How did he expect her to read like this?
His fingers were still punishing her pussy. He looked at Amelia and began to speak, “I don't hear you!” Amelia tried to read, but she felt like her voice was strained. The way he had her folded in half with his body holding her legs and thighs in place was making it hard to breathe. “Daddy, please. I can't…,” she whined out. “You can, and you fuckin' will. Do you hear me?” Erik said slowing his fingers down inside of her. He knew Amelia's weakness— slow strokes and deep pokes. He was using his fingers to massage her insides. He was kneading her pussy like dough.
Erik's heavy breathing was overshadowed by the sounds of Amelia's moans and her pussy squelching. It sounded like someone was flicking their fingers under a running faucet. Amelia dropped the book on her stomach, and Erik's hand instantly smacked her thigh twice. “Pick…it…the…fuck…up!!!” Erik growled through gritted teeth.
Amelia reached for the book. She tried her best to continue to read as Erik's fingers drove her insane. Erik lifted her left leg and pushed it back against her chest. He angled his body so that he was slightly to the side of Amelia's body. He leaned over and began to suck her clit while continuing to finger her pussy.
The words were leaving her mouth, but she wasn't attempting to comprehend or remember what she read. Erik removed his fingers and replaced them with his tongue. He moved so that his face was right between Amelia's legs. His tongue thrust inside her pussy. “Fuck. I'm… I'm gonna… Oh, I'm ‘bout to cum!” Amelia screamed. “Oh, really? I don't…remember you…askin’ me..for shit!” Erik said in between licks. “May I please cum? I can't take it anymore!” Amelia said her eyes filled with tears. “You betta!” Erik said slapping her clit with his free hand.
That was all it took to push Amelia over the edge. Her legs locked onto Erik as her belly seized. Her juices flooded Erik's fingers as he pushed them back in, leaking all over his hand and down his arm. He opened his mouth and covered her pussy so that he could catch everything. Amelia's moans turned to pained grunts. She was done.
Erik released his mouth from her pussy. He let go of her thick thighs causing them to fall like dead weights onto the bed. Amelia pulled her legs away from Erik and rolled over onto her side. He smacked her ass cheek while grabbing it roughly. “Good girl. You gone ignore Daddy again?” He asked leaning over to kiss Amelia's shoulder. “No, sir,” Amelia mumbled. “That's what the fuck I thought!” Erik replied standing from the bed.
“Get some rest, princess. Daddy's not done with you yet,” Erik said removing his shirt and heading towards the bathroom. “What?” Amelia said, jolting up from the bed. “Dafuck did you just say to me?” Erik snapped spinning around to meet Amelia's weak and apologetic eyes. “Nothing,” Amelia said as she let her head hit the bed again. “Since you got so much mouth, you got an hour. I know exactly what the next punishment is,” Erik said grinning.
A/N: I definitely can! writer’s block is a mf, so I thought of Marshawn, listened to Kelly Rowland’s Motivation, and lots of Pretty Ricky. That gave me something. Can't complain. 🤷♀️
Summary: Co-parenting with Marshawn had its ups and downs. Your son, Trevon, was happy, and Marshawn kept everything casual, cool, and cordial. No lingering heat between you two. You just needed one thing: his help on your new book.
Warnings: use of the n-word, dirty talk, slight praise, light teasing, Dom!Marshawn, light spanking, choking, co-parenting, mention of writer’s block, fucking for inspiration, various positions, multiple orgasms, slight Daddy kink, manhandling?
Co-parenting with Marshawn had its ups and downs. You've normally gone over the cons. He was a present father, and loved seeing you and his son, Trevon. So far, everything has been cordial, and cool between the two of you.
Marshawn spends time with Trevon on Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays, and weekends. You have had your own time to focus on yourself, working on your upcoming book, which currently only has a title and the first half completed.
You've penned dark paranormal stories featuring vampires and werewolves, dark romance, sci-fi, horror, somber romance, and steamy romance, incorporated the Grumpy x Sunshine trope, incorporating all tropes as you continued writing book after book.
Marshawn has been supportive of your successful writing career, and read a few of your books. He was impressed by your vast vocabulary, and wordplay.
Every character was black, you've wanted your readers to feel represented in each one. So far, you've been taking your time, little by little for this book.
Every book you wrote was a big hit, despite the heavy criticism of your smut scenes, but hey. Your fans adorned you, and your writing. That’s what matters most.
Thankfully, your publicist said you have enough time before the deadline of your book, and you were halfway there. You just need to write the smut scenes.
Now, you were writing a sports romance. Which wasn’t your forte. Since your time with Marshawn, you've been following sports prior to writing your book. You’ve been doing great up to this point.
There was tension in your body that ached for Marshawn. An ache swirling in your stomach, that you tried to ignore.
But now, Trevon was six years old. He noticed everything between you and Marshawn. Your son knew better than to ask why you haven't gotten back together with his dad. He didn't complain, didn't fuss.
You weren’t supposed to be thinking about him right now, when your career as a best selling author with excellent books, thriving as you hoped for. It’s unfortunate that you were experiencing writer’s block at the moment.
Many would suggest strolling around the neighborhood, driving, watching movies, or TV shows, or simply just write the first thing that pops up in your mom.
However, finding inspiration was not as effortless as commonly believed.
It's been five weeks, you've haven't written anything yet.
New boyfriends didn't stand a chance against Trevon, who tried to play Step-Daddy. It didn't work at all. Trevon said that he didn't like any of them every chance they left.
That was Marshawn’s son, through and through. Just as he raised to be like his dad, unhinged. Unchanged. Always had something smart to say.
After that, you've stopped dating for a while, and decided to focus on your book.
You sat comfortably against the couch, with Trevon on the right side, tablet in his hands, watching YouTube. His brown eyes flickered up at you. "Mama?" He asked happily.
“Yes, boo?” You eyes swept over the notebook in your hand, your leg resting over the other, a pen between your lips. Having fewer ideas.
“Am I staying with Daddy, or Grandma tonight?” Trevon asked softly, his finger swept over the screen. A backpack around his arms, Spider-Man.
“Grandma is coming to pick you up, and Daddy has work to do today.” You say, your pen scribbling across the paper.
“I know, but you've been having trouble with your book. Maybe Daddy can help you?” Trevon suggested, his eyes met yours.
You only blinked once, but you've given your son a nod of reassurance. “Maybe I will ask Daddy for help, thanks, baby.”
Trevon flashed a cheerful grin up at you, nodding in response. “Yeah! Daddy always helps me! He can help you, too!”
Your smile curled across your face, as your lips pressed a kiss on his forehead. He giggled softly, as his eyes flickered toward the screen before him.
A knock on the door alerted you, standing up, walking toward the door and you swung it open. Revealing your mom and Marshawn standing behind it.
His locs in two strand twists, hung around his face, thick, and clean. A fresh line-up. His bread freshly trimmed, his cologne hitting you in the face. He always smells so good around you, must’ve been done it on purpose.
Trevon gasped softly; he dropped his tablet on the pillow. He hopped off the couch, scurrying toward your mom, and his dad. “Daddy! Grandma!”
Marshawn lifted his son, twirling him in his embrace, holding him close. "What's up, lil man?”
“Hey Daddy!” Trevon exclaimed, his arms linked around his neck.
“You good? You’ve been good to your mama?” Marshawn asks, ruffling his curls.
“Yeah, but she made me eat broccoli though,” Trevon grumbled, his lip poked out.
“Hey, it’s good for you. Veggies help you become big, and strong like your dad,” Marshawn beamed, his hand over his own clothed chest.
“See? You better let him know Marshawn!” You & your mom exclaimed in praise, unison.
You rose from the cushion, confusion flickered across your face. “But Marshawn, what are you doing here?”
“I called him, and Marshawn wanted to see you and Trevon. He missed y'all,” Your mom mentions kindly, held her arms out to her grandchild. Hugging him tightly.
“Yeah! Thanks, Grandma!” Trevon exclaimed, jumping for joy.
“Yeah, thanks, mom.” Your hand ran down your face, sighing in disbelief, and not surprised either way.
“Now, why don’t you two catch up?” Your mom waved you, and Marshawn off like you were a couple again. Your eyes rolled while she couldn’t caught it.
“Ay, I saw that eye roll, missy!” Your mother shot back, arms crossed.
“Wait, Grandma. I have to tell Daddy something!” Trevon’s tiny hand yanked on her sleeve, stopping her.
Trevon walked over his dad, yanking his sleeve. Marshawn grinning, and bent at his son’s level. Whispering something very low, private.
After their short conversation, they bid farewell to each other. Marshawn gave his son a kiss on his forehead. Your mom, and your son strode out of the house, as the door closed shut.
Your fingers twisting the lock, catching the soft flick. Leaving you alone with your ex, as you spun around to face him.
“Hey, Marshawn.” You greeted awkwardly, smiling nervously.
“What’s up? You ain’t happy to see me?” Marshawn asked, his arms hung out.
You shrugged it off, acting as if Trevon, and Marshawn didn’t speak about your writer’s block.
“I am. Nothing much, still writing here, and there,” You chuckled softly, masking your nervousness.
Marshawn hummed lightly, nodding. “Yeah, Trevon told me you had trouble with your book? Come here. Why are you all the way over there?”
You chuckled sheepishly, purposely avoiding his gaze yet you looked back at him. Strolling toward him, yet gave him space.
“Why are you gettin’ all shy around me? You good?” He asks, his head tilting.
“I’m cool. It’s not that, Marshawn. It’s just that I’ve been having been writer’s block.” Your lip poked out a bit, your lip fell into a line.
“Just sit down, and write. It ain’t that hard, Y/n.” Marshawn says casually, rose a brow.
“Marshawn, clearly you don’t understand the process of being a writer. We read, and write, do everything under the sun. No inspiration, still.” You explained, crossing your arms.
“I can write a book if I wanted to, and then bang. I’m done. Everyone will definitely my book.” Marshawn bragged, shrugging it off as if it was easy.
“Not everyone can be a former NFL player champion, with awards and recognition, okay? Also I’ve seen your acting in Euphoria.” You say coyly, rolling your eyes.
Marshawn gasped dramatically, as if he was shocked. “Damn, it’s like that, baby?”
You waved him off. “You’re pretty decent Marshawn, and people keep asking me if you’re coming to NFL. But you say hell no,” you snicker mid-breath.
Marshawn rolled his eyes at the question, and his gaze turned back to you. “Anyway. Can I see what you’re written, so far?”
You couldn’t be this shy around Marshawn when it involved your writing. You were confident regardless but asking for help wasn’t difficult.
“Sure, follow me in my writing room,” You motioned him to follow you through the halls.
You, and Marshawn strode through the long, narrow halls of the house. You could still smell the cologne from behind, intoxicating and tempting in the worst way. A man that fine? Trouble.
You made a right turn into the room, stepped through, as Marshawn followed behind you. Breathing in. Your shoulders fell, jaw unclenching. Relaxing.
“I’ve been typing on my laptop mostly, it’s good so far, and I’m halfway done with the book too.” You explained, you hand gestures toward the laptop fully charging on the desk.
You took your laptop off the charger, unplugged it. You logged in, and clicked on the word document. Stepping aside, you gestured for Marshawn to take a peek.
Marshawn read every chapter carefully, as he returned to page 32 of your book, Had To Be You. He nodded with confidence. It was simply about a NFL player, with a taking chance to fall in love with his sports agent, who represented him, and they began to realize they’re made for each other. Cliche, yes. But hey, you’re writing still.
“It’s about a nfl player, and are you sure this ain’t about us?” Marshawn asked again, smirking playfully.
You chuckled sheepishly. “I may have used you as a reference but their personalities are totally different! You aren’t Avan, you know?” You hand angled to the laptop.
“So what’s the problem? What you’re writing is great, girl!” Marshawn grinned softly, his hands on your shoulders. He lifted them, brought them in his front pouch of his hoodie.
“It’s actually a sports romance too, and now, the characters are getting to the smut scene soon.” You say, your finger beneath your chin.
“Sports romance? That’s right my alley. Is it about us?” Marshawn asked, his head lean forward slightly in curiosity.
“No! It’s not about us Marshawn! It’s simply from personal experiences, and other stories.” You dismissed, waving him off.
Marshawn rolled his eyes, shook his head. “Nah, I’m only the sports nigga you’ve been wit’ in your life. It’s us. It’s means the book is gonna be a fucking hit!”
“Okay, okay. You’re right,” You chorused, smiling faintly.
“What do you really need my help with?” He asks, his voice deepening dangerously low. Tempting.
“You see. I need some dick for inspiration, for my book. I need to finish. That’s why I have writer’s block!” You whined, your hands gripped his shoulders tight.
“Y/n, you’re an amazing writer regardless and I think you’re using this opportunity to get some dick?” He countered, his arms folded behind his back.
You gasped dramatically, with a hand over your clothed chest as if you were shocked. “How dare you, sir? I—can you just help me with this?”
Marshawn rolling his eyes, snickering a bit. “All you had to do was ask..”
“Boy, just get on the bed, and here is a condom..."
—————
Garments were thrown about, skidding on the ground, until you reached his chest with your hands.
Gently, you guided him to the bed headboard, supported his back as your fingers moved over his stomach, teasing him in a playful manner with a grin.
"Ride me, baby," Marshawn murmured, his lower lip trapped between his teeth. Maybe this was you needed. Your ex’s dick for inspiration. New excuse. Real nice.
You knelt forward, a playful grin playing on your lips as you positioned yourself over him. "You always stay wet for me. I love that..." Marshawn groans, watching your essence enlarging around his base. Sloshing. Gushing. He kissed you deeply, placing his hands on your waist and then running them up to your thighs, drawing you down swiftly until he was deep inside you. His thumb pressed on your clit, it started tracing unhurried, purposeful circles, each movement taking your breath away. "Fuckk..”
"F—fuck, Marshawn," you moaned, voice rough and urgent. You rode him brutally, grinding on him, your pussy clenching like a chokehold. Your white essence coated him, warm, adhesive, sliding down his dick, your hips wiggled. Hands anchoring at your hips as he fucked you upward, breath coming in ragged, raspy bursts.
His groans grew deeper, with something tender. "All you needed was this?" he rasped, the words raw. He slid two fingers between your clit and pinched lightly; the contact was small, yet breathtaking. A sharp scream ripped from you, tears overflowing as your pace stuttered, every nerve buzzing.
"F—fuck! Yes! All I need!" you gasped, choked on a broken moan. His hand delivered a sharp smack across your ass, bouncing. "Now you do..." Marshawn moaned low, drilling into you upwards. A jolt of pleasure shot through your body, squealing. Grinding still, clenching tight and moaning like it was the last time. It never was. You firmly held onto the headboard. "Is this dick all mine?" You say, shutting your eyelids, the vibrations spread throughout their bodies, and he could feel her cum slowly glide down to his base, plunging on his balls.
"Always been yours.." he panted lowly, still drilling. He was gonna give you inspiration all right, every last thrust. It had been a minute since you’ve touched by him, his head fell back on the pillow. You made him see stars. butterflies. Every bounce made thick, sticky strands of cum between them every he went in and out.
Your pussy gushed around him, as he went harder, harder as if trying to mold the shape of his dick inside you. Your nails clawing at his tattooed skin. "Look at you, cummin’ so pretty around this dick.." he grunted deeply, his Oakland accent spilling out. His hand smacked her asscheek, which led to a squeal, slithered across your bare body, cupping your bouncing breasts while simultaneously tugging at your nipples.
Marshawn pulled out slowly, before he flipped you on all fours. Gradually, pushing himself back inside, you dragged out a wild moan rippling from your throat. “Marshawn..fuck!” Hands on your waist, drilling into you like he was out of jail. Wild. Feral. He fucked you hard, fast to switched the pace. Your head turned, which almost gave you whiplash.
“Damn, girl? Ain’t nobody been in this pussy?” He teased, pushing forward. All you could do was grip the sheets, and scream for your life, in pleasure. Your pussy clenched around his dick. Afraid to let go. You were wetter than before. Marshawn? Yes. You whined in response, face buried in a pillow.
Your airy moans break between sentences, almost stumbling over the bed until Marshawn yanked you by your ankle, feeling his tip strike your spot once he manhandled you. Drooling at the way he fucked over the mattress. “Yeah? Never had that before? Your ex nigga ain’t hitting it right, baby?” Marshawn bragged, drilling in you again. His hips swiveling at a fast pace, you screamed sharply. “Noooo! Fuck! Baby—fuck!” You grit your teeth, eyelids snapping shut.
“You’re wetter than last time. I fit in just right.” Marshawn thrusting with relentless affection, your hips pushed back instinctively. You gasped between his crazy thrusts, your wetness flowing freely, as he emptied himself inside you. "Fuck!" you both moaned, his lips crashed into yours sent waves of heat through your body, making your head spin.
Restarting the pace to slow again, long and deep thrusts that made your body squirm away until his hand smacked your ass in disapproval, shaking his head. Legs squeezing around his waist. “Don't you want this dick, baby? Why you running?” Marshawn teases, peppered kisses along your spine. The room echo with the wet, squelching and both your breathing as his dick, massaging your walls thoroughly, pulsating, throbbing.
"Oh shit! I’m almost there!" you scream hopelessly, your mouth open wide, but no sound comes out, while you bounce after every stroke. You can definitely feel the ideas flowing through your mind, with the way he fucking you. Your hand reached for your clit until Marshawn smacked it out of the way. "This is my pussy..don't touch it.." he groaned, now, you were the one whimpering, crying, but your hips moved on their own. You craved for more, he wanted to relish in just like you did with him.
Once that he pulled out again, flipping you on your back. His hands gripped your ankles tight, pinning them over your head. His locs pooled in front of his face, his half-lidded eyes locked with yours, his hand around your neck. He gradually entered you, and you cried out as if in agony, almost too much to handle. "Marshawn! Yes!" But you loved it, maybe you should ask him for this often. Finally, he fit all of him inside from behind. He plowed into you. "You gettin' any new ideas, baby?" Marshawn groans, his head craned back from the pleasure. Just to feel you like this? Marshawn was falling in love all over again.
He plowed into you, hips snapped, "Yes! Marshawn! Yes!" you cried out wildly, your walls clung to his dick, milking him dry, on the sheets, hands fisting the blanket. "You hear me? You gettin’ any ideas?" Marshawn. He quickened the pace, still much harder. "Yes! I swear! I fucking swear!" you whined softly. Your mind went blank, yet every idea came right back. You couldn't even think straight. The bed creaking, and cracked in the process.
Tears spilled down your face, blurring your vision, knees buckling weakly. His hands threw your legs over his shoulders, pinning you down. His chest against your breasts. “I'd better hear every single idea you write.” Marshawn groans. He thrusts harder after that. You nodded frantically, crying, whimpering. His hand still around your neck. Your face close to his. “You better not doubt yourself..fuckk” Marshawn rasped, gritting his teeth. Your knees shook, “I won't! I won't, I swear!” You cried out to him, scratching his back. His fingernails dug into your melenated skin, he drilled unforgivingly, his passion raw.
The bed was broken underneath; there was a dent in the wall from the headboard banging. You were a wet, gibberish mess underneath Marshawn. He loved every single bit of you. Your eyes rolled back, unable to hold on to your arch. Toes curling into a ball. Bodies are almost going numb. “If you need any more ideas..call me. Only me..” Marshawn grunted in your ear. He adjusted his angle, finding the right spot that made you gasp sharply. "Only you! Marshawn!” Unable to respond, but only with broken moans.
You felt his pace slow down, thrusts turn sloppy, and frantic. “Daddy…I’m cumming…” you cried out, your hips rolling in deep with his. A mess underneath, and he noticed it too. The way your pussy sucked his dick back with a thrust, disappear like magic. “I know, baby.” he cooed, biting his lip. Shooting his load in the condom, as you came undone, cumming wildly around his big dick. A bigger mess. Marshawn pulled out slowly, and saw the cum spilling out. Chests falling, and rising. You were left bare, and breathless.
Bodies tangled together, and he pressed a gentle kiss to your lips, gazing at you. "You good?" he asked softly, his concern clear.
"Y-yeah, I'm good..."
Aftercare was provided with practiced ease by Marshawn, you took a hot bubble bath. He asked you if he could take a shower, and you agreed to it. You told me that you appreciated his help on the book, and he says, “No problem!”
Once you finished your bath and Marshawn completed his shower, you quickly put on your pajamas and socks, applied lotion on yourself. He stood in full of the full length mirror, with a towel over his head, wiping himself. He sported his usual oversized grey hoodie, and sweatpants.
His eyes flickered toward you through the mirror, you sat at your writing desk. Typing on your keyboard with precision, smirking to yourself. All of your locs tied back in a bun while some locs hang in front of your face. You were finally done with your book.
“Hey, Marshawn. Can I ask something?” You chimed in, while typing on the keys on your laptop.
“What's up?”
Your grin spreads across your face, watching his reflection as you tuck a loose loc behind your ear, plotting your next meeting with him. “I'm thinking of starting a series for this book. Would you like to help me out with that, baby?”
Mechanic!Smoke: Stands around 6’3, Southern specifically born and raised in Mississippi. Rarely ever been up North, got an offer to work for a company up there but decided not to leave home, his roots where there in the Mississippi dirt and he wasn’t gonna leave that. Him and his twin brother of course as thick as thieves. Their bond was inseparable. Stack and Smoke also always looked after their little sister Estelle, who they often called Star.
Mechanic!Smoke: Smoke was always a man of business and money, loved himself some R&B, specifically 90's and early 2000s R&B, as it's always blasting in the speakers of the auto shop all day.
That man is built ASF. I'm talking: lifting your body weight is his minimum lift; that shit is his warm-up. For him, growing up on a farm with his family, he was technically always working out. All that running back and forth with pails of milk his granddaddy had him and Stack doing was a damn workout in that heat, and the older he got, the more tasks and the heavier the load. Lifting the hay, carrying things. Working with cars since he was a teen was just training for him. He had been built!
Mechanic!Smoke: is romantic asf, tends to smell like oil, and will take a serious shower to make sure he smells good for his lady, for whatever date or occasion he has planned for you.
He loves working with his hands; the fact that he could break something down and build it back up again (including you) he held much pride in his hands, and his handiwork. The proof was always in the pudding; he never had a customer complain, never had the same customer come back twice with the same situation. He always made sure his work was done well, no bullshit. He believed if people were paying, they should get their money's worth.
When it came to you and Harmony, his life was never the same. Your daughter Harmony became a new pulse for Smoke. When he got to hold his little girl for the first time, tears filled his eyes with a smile, and in his eyes held a promise to never fail his daughter, that she would have the best possible life he could give her.
Smoke and Harmony were two peas in a pod, she would beg and he would hold strong, until she started the puppy eyes, it started to crush him and he would eventually with very much consideration cave.
He quite literally owes Stack because if it weren't for that day Stack brought you to the auto shop, who knew if you and Smoke would have ever met? And share the life you two do now. He was always grateful for the day he met you and the day your car decided to stop working. (Plus, Stack wouldn't shut up at Reader and Smoke's wedding, taking pride in his work and telling everyone that "if it weren't for me, they wouldn't be together, y'all know that, right?" as he drank a bit of whiskey in his glass and his arm around his cousin's shoulder "Like i brought her to the shop y'all know that right? And I was there and BOOM! I shot the arrow and look at them today, married!" Stack's wife giggled at his antics, but told him to calm down just a bit, as this is the moment of the married couple, not Mr. Cupid.
Mechanic!Smoke: Before the ring was even placed on your finger, he was calling you "My Wife" and telling everyone, "Mhm, my wife told me about that". He loved the way it sounded and rolled off the tongue, and loved hearing you say "Mr. Moore" or "My Husband" even more. Just you breathing in his direction was enough for him.
