I’m gonna get my fix of specific fanfics by any means necessary, even if I have to do it myself! |•23! • Valentines Baby•|•Black• | To be young, black, and gifted, right?
˚ ⭑.ᐟ ˚ Hello everyone, Im Jazmine but you can call me that, Jax or Jazzie! I’m an adult writer in the rough that’s just looking to have fun, and enjoy my interests! I don’t write often but when I do write, it will most likely be from a Black/Fems perspective. One, because that’s what I’m used to. And two, I don’t want to come across offensive because I don’t know what I’m doing. Anyways, much love to all who have seen this. xoxo, Jax!
Summary: The worst arrangement of your life gets flipped on its head because of you and your antics.
🍰˚～Henny’s Bakery!
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It was just your luck to get stuck with someone you swore was your childhood nemesis.
There wasn’t a moment where you two didn’t hate each other, and if there was, you were asleep. If he was in a room, you’d walk out of it. If you were walking down the street, he’d cross over to the opposite side. He avoided sitting near you in any classes you two had together in high school.
Yet, no matter how much you tried to avoid him and his family, they were always just…there. And so were your ill feelings.
He was a cocky bastard, and shit, so were you. So naturally when your great aunt announced you’d be marrying him, therefore into his family, to fulfill a contract as old as you in front of your whole family, you threw an entire fit!
Marry who? Him?! Well, no!
A week later you had been forced to sing a different tune.
Married soon after your twenty-fifth birthday, you were now stuck with someone you vowed to never have any ties to. Even your friends turned their boujee noses up the entire wedding, unaware of the forced connection between you two as you signed papers before to never speak of the arrangement.
You were seething. The entire “honeymoon” was more of you trying not to slit his throat with your stiletto nails. He was a pain in the ass.
You were married, yes, but did he have to act like a husband? No. Yet, he insisted.
He opened doors for you, he gave you his jacket when you were cold, he walked with you on the inside of the sidewalk like some chivalrous gentleman. It was evil. Witchcraft that you were starting to find him even…kinda cute.
One thought you pushed deep into your mind to forget, your main focus on staying far away from the man, meanwhile he didn’t seem to care if you stayed or left, he’d always be somewhere around regardless. For the paps to see, of course.
“Do you have to stand so close?”
You’d ask as he wrapped an arm around your waist and settled his hand on your hip. Butterflies you wanted to stomp on fluttered in your tummy, your conscious trying so hard to keep you from rolling your eyes. It was like he could see it all. He could see the gears turning in your head while you thought of a plan to get away, but no opportunities were turning up.
“I do. Smile real pretty for the cameras, aight?” He spoke into your ear.
The night stretched long and your attitude only heightened every hour. You wanted to go home and get away from these randos, even the men who mindlessly flirted with you all night began to be a bore, though you probably should have walked away from them sooner than you did. But, you didn’t. You bat your lashes at them, giggled at their corny jokes, playfully nudged them too. I mean, you were never one to turn down attention. Unbeknownst to you, you had an audience of one watching closely, waiting to pounce later.
An hour after leaving the table of horny fucks, you decide to find your way back to your husband, only to have him ignore you worse than before. The dirty glares you were sending him weren’t enough to shake him away from business conversations about whatever men of his caliber talked about. And you thought you were materialistic till you met these bastards.
It wasn’t until you abruptly interrupted the group of men and dragged him away, that your beloved husband finally slipped off that mask of gentleman-ness.
Walking into the skyrise apartment, you toss your keys on the accent table by the door and kick off your heels, unknowing that a hotheaded Joey was following behind you.
You knew you’d get flack, you knew he’d have something small to say and you’d ignore him to avoid a late night argument. What you didn’t know was the turn of events he had been planning instead of his usual.
Getting bent over the accent table you just utilized as soon as you took off your shoes wasn’t exactly on the bingo card. The lifting of your dress was so quick that you barely had time to feel the cold breeze swiping over your ass before your skin was stinging with a handprint that’d stay for hours. He spanked you. As if you disobeyed him.
You couldn’t believe it. With your breath stuck in your throat, he held your hands away from him to keep you from swatting him away before laying yet another smack on your backside, resulting in a yelp from you.
“I hate that I gotta constantly make you listen. If it ain’t you talkin’ to me like you crazy, it’s you wandering off and entertaining muhfuckas..You think that’s cute?
His voice was rough, rougher than he had ever spoke to you. Even when you criticized him, and called him names, he was never this rough.
Your panties felt like they were never there with how he ripped them from your body, the lace shredding like nothing from just a strong pull.
The initial shock wouldn’t let you oppose to what was happening, neither was your curiosity with what he was gonna do to you.
Like a serpent, his fingers easily slipped through your folds, touching at your mouth sensitive spot. You shuttered against the table, a meek whimper of his name exiting your mouth. There was barely any preparation before he was really inside of you.
Tears brimmed your eyes when he hiked your leg up on the table to get a new angle, his thrusts powerful enough to rattle the decorative vase placed right in the middle of it.
During punishing strokes, he had left meticulously placed bites along your neck and shoulder, marking you with purpose. You wondered how you would explain the marks to your mother at brunch tomorrow, if you could even make it there.
“Joey- I’m sorry! Fuck— The v-vase!”
You cry out, your hands gripping the sides of the table for dear life in an attempt to steady both yourself, and the shaking.
“You sorry? You think some other nigga in that party could fuck you like this?”
You shook your head in protest, not even meaning to provoke him in a way that’d just effect how you walked the next day.
He slid a hand between your legs, trapping your clit between his middle and index finger.
There was a surge of electricity that traveled through your body, striking your core with a force that had your walls gripping him tighter, your cream sticking around the base of him.
He groans into your ear, your name slipping past his lips. You could feel him twitching deep inside of you, indicating he was just as close as you were. You were fooled into thinking the first time he came inside of you, you were done, and you extremely were mistaken. By now his own release was leaking out of you and down your thighs, threatening to drip on your marble floors.
“You feel that, baby?”
“Yes!”
“Good girl. Make sure you remember this when that smart ass mouth get to runnin’”
He insulted you flat out, and pathetically, it made you cum.
“Since when did these parties get so fucking boring?” The guys voice could barely be heard over the music that blasted through the Kappa Omega Phi house. It thumped loud enough to shake the floors, vibrating into the bodies that were packed shoulder-to-shoulder across every inch of the lower rooms. It was a banging party. A Jackson Wang party, so it has to be great.
But there was something off.
At least, to the men upstairs, it was.
Tucked away in a half-lit lounge that overlooked the chaos of the overtaken frat house, the energy wasn’t what it used to be. The boys of ‘97 sat scattered across couches and armrests, drinks in hand, boredom written plainly across their faces.
It didn’t make sense. This was their scene, this has always been their scene! But something about it just wasn’t hitting the same anymore.
Freshman year for them had been reckless. It was new and fresh, the invigorating experience of being away from home and doing absolutely whatever they wanted lit a fire under them like no other. The high from then was damn near addicting.
Now?
It was just predictable. The routine of college has become so used to them now, and school was getting a bit difficult. Oh, how they missed freshman year.
“Like, is it just me?” BamBam started again when he reached no a set to his previous question. He leaned back with his glass dangling loosely from his fingers. “Or is this all so…mid?”
Mingyu snorted from beside him. “It’s not just you.” He muttered, holding his chin up with his hand, elbow resting on the arm of the couch.
Jungkook didn’t say anything. He just stared out over the railing that he helps himself up with, jaw set, fingers tapping absently against his cup. Even Jaehyun, who usually thrived in rooms like this, looked unimpressed as he stood next to him, gaze drifting more than it lingered on the bodies below.
Behind them, Minghao and Eunwoo sat quietly at the far end of the room at a home desk, observing their friends. DK sighed dramatically, flopping back into the other couch like the life had been sucked out of him, while Yugyeom kicked lazily at the leg of the table.
“Nothing hits the same anymore.” Yugyeom mumbled. “Same music, same people, the same games.”
“Yeah,” DK added. “It’s all, meet girl, talk, flirt, smash. Then you have this petty, cat and mouse back and forth for a week to two months before it’s onto the next. Like…what’s next?” He huffed.
“Sophomore year practically just started.” Minghao mumbled, eye housing between the unusually dejected men.
“Yeah, and it’s still ass compared to the first week of freshman year.” Jaehyun said before taking a gulp from his glass.
As if summoned by the somber mood, a voice cut through the atmosphere of the supports lounge.
“What’s with the funeral faces?”
They didn’t even have to look to know who it was.
Jackson Wang, vice president of Kappa Omega Phi,
stopped at the sight of the familiar that were unusually downtrodden. His effortlessly confident stride halted, standing in the runways that separated the lounge and the balcony with one arm draped around a girl who clung to him.
He took one look at them and frowned.
“Seriously, this is my party.” He said, gesturing vaguely toward the noise below. “You can’t be running the vibes with your sad moods. At least pretend to enjoy yourselves.” He quipped, hoping to see a reaction from any of them.
But none of them bit. Not a one.
Jackson blinked. Then, with a small scoff, he gently peeled the girl off his arm, murmuring something low to her. She pouted, but left without protest, moving in the opposite direction of the rooms they were headed to and back down stairs.
“…Okay,” He said, stepping further into the room. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing.” Jaehyun answered easily, though the lack of conviction gave him away.
Jackson’s eyes narrowed, gaze whiting through the room. “Okay, I just sent away a hot piece of ass, so I’m gonna need you guys to be straight with me.” He said firmly.
Yugyeom sighed. “It’s..stupid, hyung.” He said, but at the look Jackson was giving him, plus him being his fraternity vice president and all, he caved. “We’re…bored. This party, is boring, everything is boring.” He stated before giving the man a sheepish smile. “Sorry, hyung, it being your party and all.” He mumbled.
Jackson blinked at him, silent as he observed the underclassmen before him, arms crossed. He blinked again, something shifting in his expression this time. Amusement and recognition.
“Ah,” He said. “You’re bored.” His tone was more chipper than before, and he rocked on the balls of his feet as his eyes swept over them. “Okay, yeah.” He sighed.
The room was still silent, but a few glances of confusion were exchanged between the younger crowed.
Jackson huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. “You guys are so unbelievable.” He chuckled. “This is just the typical sophomore blues, you guys don’t even know how good you have it.”
“It doesn’t feel good.” Junkook chimed in, finally turning around from the balcony to face the man, whose back was to him before Jackson turned around. “This year is bleak. I mean, I thought Hawthorne was supposed to be this killer party school with good classes. So far, the parties have been whack—sorry hyung—and school is starting to kick my ass.”
“Yeah, I have to agree.” Jaehyun chimed in. “I wouldn’t have went to collage if i knew it was gonna be like this.” His words caused some of the boys to cut their eyes at him, brows furrowed.
“That’s…sad.” Eunwoo stated.
“Yeah, bro.” Mingyu added, causing Jaehyun to scoff. “You guys know what I mean, I wouldn’t have went to Hawthorne. I would have went to, I don’t know, Crestmont or Sterling or something.” He said.
“Can’t you fix it, hyung.” BamBam shot back to Jackson, raising a brow. “Since you’re so old and wise and you’ve been here for so long.” The Thai man couldn’t stop himself from joking, a small smile emerging on his face. Yugyeom chuckled along with him, making fun of their vice president to ease their boredom. He then looked over at the man, who held a glare as he looked between them.
“You can’t get angry, hyung, we’re not pledges anymore.” He defended himself.
“Yeah, and remember that ‘hyung’ part when you’re begging for my help.” He snipped, turning away from them and walking over to the balcony, looking down at the party happening beneath them.
He was contemplating. Thinking of ways he could he help out his frat brothers and their friends, but also mulling over the fact that maybe he was losing his spark. Was his party lame? And boring? Jackson has never been called boring, him or his parties. They were far from boring, he had thrown parties that were gonna be talked about for years, parties that will go down in Hawthorne history.
But he’s been doing this for years, so maybe it was time for a change. But how can one upstage themselves?
Caught up in his mulling as he observed the party below, his eyes snagged onto a familiar head of hair in the crowd. He knew that head of hair. His heart skipped a beat at the sight, but settled when he saw the girl turn around, beaming at someone she knew. He knew that smile as well. Everything about her was all too familiar.
Jackson then tilted his head, considering as his memories rushed back to him.
“…You ever hear about courting the castle?” He asked, still facing away from them.
That got their attention.
Minghao’s eyes flicked up from his phone, while Jungkook’s tapping against the railing stilled. Even DK lifted his head from his lounge against the sofa.
“The what?” Yugyeom asked.
Jackson grinned, slow and knowingly as he turned to face them.
“It’s an old tradition.” He said, leaning back against the banister. He then quickly cut his eyes to BamBam and Yugyeom, holding a finger up to them. “Don’t even.” He said firmly, watching as the boys stifled a grin as he turned back to the conversation. “It’s dead now. Been dead for years, even when I was a freshman.”
“Clearly,” Jaehyun muttered. “Since none of us have heard of it.”
Jackson ignored him. “Back in that day,” he continued, simply shaking his head when BamBam and Yugyeom choked trying to hold in their laughter. “The frats and sororities would compete. It was a quiet completion between them to see who could get to the dean’s kid first.”
Mingyu blinked. “Get to…?”
“Date them. Hook up with them. Make them fall for you—whatever came first,” Jackson shrugged. “The winner got bragging rights, a reputation, sometimes there was even money. The whole campus talked about it, they loved knowing who the deans kid was sleeping with for some reason.”
“…That’s insane,” DK said, half-laughing.
“Yeah,” Jungkook added flatly. “And weird.”
Jackson smirked. “You say that now until you’re rubbing elbows with the dean and his fellows at their private ski resort. Or sailing the Nile for the spring break. Hell, trialing the through the Caribbean’s for the summer.” He listed enthusiastically.
“Yeah, but that’s what we have Eunwoo for.” Mingyu stated, causing the others to chuckle. “Perks of being friends with the richest kid in school and all.” He said, looking over at said boy, who threw a middle finger his way.
BamBam leaned forward slightly, interest piqued despite himself. “If it was such a big thing, why’d it stop?”
For a split second, Jackson hesitated, his gaze drifting down. “…Didn’t end well,” He said vaguely. “The girl found out. Whole thing blew up.”
“Then why bring it up?” BamBam pressed.
Jackson didn’t answer right away. Instead, he turned back around, looking into the crowd below and spotting that familiar smile again. “…Because now,” Jackson said softly, almost to himself. ”There’s finally someone worth playing for.”
Jungkook and Jaehyun followed his line of sight, eyes landing on you.
Downstairs, in the middle of it all. Mini skirt, heels, and a tight top that caught the light every time you moved. A small glass tipped back in your hand as you threw back a shot, face scrunching for a second before you broke into a grin, laughter spilling out of you as the girls around you cheered.
The other boys stood up from their seats at the silence of the two, all moving to stand near the rails, looking down at the sight their eyes were on.
“That,” Jackson continued, glancing back at them with a slow, deliberate smile before he nodded toward you. “Is the dean’s daughter.”
You were easy to miss if you didn’t know what you were looking for.
But impossible to ignore once you did.
You grabbed one of your friend’s hands, pulling her through the crowd with a carefree kind of confidence, full of movement as you weaved through bodies until you spotted someone.
And they watched as your face lit up.
You threw your arms open and practically skipped forward, colliding into a guy with a short bleached hair, letting out a bright and excited laugh. The two of you bounced in place like it had been years since you’d last seen each other. The guy grinned at you, hands traveling to on your hips when you pulled away.
But that didn’t stop the men upstairs from their interest being piqued.
Silence is what comforted her most, at least, that’s the conclusion she could come to now as she stood in her kitchen. The home was still, silent as an empty church to anyone else, but to her, she heard it all.
The soft bells of her wind chimes blowing in a gentle breeze, the sound of others rising from their slumber and beginning their day, just beyond her window. Distant chatter, occasional footsteps. And her favorite was the sound of the sloshing waves from the ocean, which was quite a bit away but she could hear clearly. If she focused enough, even the sound of her own breathing was soothing.
She found comfort in the sounds of life moving around her, but her mind was occupied by the grating scrape of her spoon against the porcelain perimeter of her mug. It was a consistent sound, and in the back of her mind, she questioned how long she truly been at this, but the forefront was enclosed by thoughts of today. The sudden flashes of memories that she tried to keep hidden.
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“I..I don’t know what to say to that, Evan.” Adrienne chortled in disbelief, her round eyes bouncing between his. Even shook his head. “You don’t have to say anything.” He said, a somber smile on his face, gaze unwavering. “I just—I thought you should know.”
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She took in a sharp breath.
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“I can’t keep doing this.” Adrienne hiccuped as she cried. Her face was streaked with tears and smudged makeup. She just let it all roll off as she started at the man before her, unbothered by the salty wetness that entered her mouth when she spoke. “I won’t keep doing this.”
“Then why haven’t you left yet?” He said coldly.
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Exhale. Another breath, deeper.
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Her moans echoed throughout the small room as she clenched around him, eyes closed in pleasure. “Fuck.” She sighed.
“Fuck, Chase.” Milo groaned into her ear.
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“Hi. Uh, I’m Adrienne.” She said. She was a bit nervous, which was apparent due to how she didn’t know where to place her hands. They moved from being placed in her back pockets to being tucked under her arms when she crossed them.
Her eyes moved away from glancing at the crowd towards back to him, whose eyes were on her. His stare was intense and unwavering, even as she started back at him.
“I’m Cameron.”
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She did another intake of air, though her breath was a bit shaky as she exhaled.
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“You’re so fucking wet.” Cameron hissed in her ear, and all Adrienne could do was moan, her voice bouncing off the bathroom walls. Her nipple pebbled under his touch, his warms hands saving her from the touch of the cold, ceramic tiles that encased them.
“I thought you didn’t want this, huh?” He taunted, by his thrusts never stoppping, skin slapping against hers as he pounded into her. “I thought it was over. But look at you, fucking taking it. Ohh, fuck, you’re taking it so good baby.”
“Ooo, fuck.”
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Deep breath, then exhale. Her chest moved up and down, but her focused never wavered from her pattern as she continued to stir.
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“I’m not scared of you.” She stated, looking up at him. Her glare was unwavering as she stood her ground. She was trying to play unbothered, but her fists were clenched under her folded arms. “And the tricks you play on everyone else aren’t gonna work on me because I’m not fucking stupid, so…”
There was a moment of silence that came between them then. Stephen stood there, his unnerving gaze on her, moving between her eyes. Adrienne watched as his face went from his cold, psychotic glare into a faux grin. “I just wanted to talk, Adrienne, jeez.”
“Well, I don’t.” She hissed before walking around him, her shoulder brushing his.
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Adrienne was so encapsulated in her thoughts that she didn’t hear the sound of footsteps padding near.
“Baby?” A voice spoke up behind her. Adrienne took in a sharp breath, startled out of her thoughts. She snapped her head around, looking to see her husband come around the corner. He was in nothing but his underwear and rubbing at his eyes. “Sorry.” He said sheepishly, voice groggy form sleep, once he saw the look on her face after her quick turn.
“Jesus, Cam.” Adrienne sighed, placing a hand on her chest, over her beating heart. Though she wasn’t sure if she could blame that on the small fright. “You know not to sneak up on me.” She mumbled, glancing back down at her cup.
It was mostly full, and just by looking at it, she could tell it was no longer hot, even with the faint warmth provided to her fingers the clasped the cup.
“I didn’t sneak up on you,” Cameron said, walking up behind her at the kitchen counter. “I called you, like, three times.” He muttered, eased closer to her, his mouth near her ear. A friend couldn’t help the shadow of a smile that grazed her lips, basking in his proximity. “You would’ve heard me if you weren’t so in your head.” As he spoke, his arms came to rest on the counter, trapping her. He then placed his lips anywhere he could, from her hair, to her ear and the back of her neck.
Adrienne let out a soft laugh at the feeling. “I wasn’t in my head.” She said, though, her voice wasn’t convincing to either of them, especially Cameron. He always had the ability to read her like an open book, and sometimes she felt like he knew her better than she knew herself.
And she didn’t know if that was a gift or a curse.
“You’re always in your head.” He said, mumbling the words into her hair before he took in a deep breath as he closed his eyes. His arm came to wrap around her chest, and Adrienne took that as her sign to set down her mug. It clinked softly against the marble before she was turned around so her back pressed against the slab. “It’s what I like about you.”
Adrienne gazed up at Cameron, whose eyes were trained on hers. He looked down his nose at her, and Adrienne tried not to crumble under his gaze. His stare was always pretty intense, picking away at every layer she’s tried to keep hidden. Making her weak with just a simple look. It was one of the first things she noticed about him, how he didn’t try to shy away from staring, how his eyes were a window to his soul. She liked that about him, she liked how him simply looking at her made her feel.
She did try everything to get his attention, after all.
“You’re a thinker, you’re always thinking, because you’re smart, and two steps ahead of most people” He spoke up, snapping the girl from her thoughts as he angled his head down so their faces were inches apart. His voice was low, and his eyes still had bent moved from her’s, even when hers dipped low to glance at his lips, and then his exposed chest. She watched as a small smirk graced his lips at her actions before looking him back in the eye. “Which is a rarity, especially in our group of friends.” He quipped, causing the two of you to laugh.
Adrienne let out a soft hum as she raised a hand, the tips of her fingers lightly tracing the curves of his abdomen. “Hm, you always know just what to say.” She retorted, voice dripping in sarcasm.
“Because there’s no point in beating around the bush with you unless we’re playing some cat and mouse game we’re both getting off to.” Cameron chipped, tilting his head at her as his eyes hardened a bit, and his words alone brought a flood of memories to the forefront of Adrienne’s mind.
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Her side pressed against another body, his lips nipping at her neck as his hands gripped her waist, but her eyes were trained on him.
He was on the other side of the room, the lights of the party flashing around them. The multicolored shades danced around them, but his stare was unwavering. He licked his lips as his large hands drifted down Madison’s waist, moving to grip her ass. Adrienne could practically hear the girl moan at his movement, that what she would do if he was touching her like that.
Cameron kept his gaze open on hers, even as the lights flashed around them.
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Adrienne blinked out of her thoughts when he kept talking. “So quit your worrying, baby, everything will be fine. This is Evan and Bree we’re talking about here and they’re, like, in love with you know they’ll never let anything stupid go down.” He chortled, and his words caused you to laugh out loud, swatting at his shoulder with a snort. “That has nothing to do with it!” You said, trying to hide how those words didn’t help ease your discomfort with a grin. “Than doesn’t even make sense.” You muttered, glancing down at your hands.
‘Evan and Bree’
‘In love with you.’
“I’m just trying to ease your mind.” He grinned softly, leaning closer and down to follow your gaze, and then placing an unexpected peck on your lips. You looked back up as he pulled back, barely detaching your noses from grazing eachother as he looked you in the eye. “Don’t let a few people we’d rather not see affect what we’re here for. We’re the best man and maid of honor to our best friends.” His tone was more serious now, green irises bouncing between her brown eyes. “Fuck everyone else. It’s just me and you, like always.”
“You and I.” Adrienne echoed softly, nodding at him, causing their noses to bump. Cameron’s lips quirked at that and he nodded softly. “Yeah.” He said, gazing at her dreamily. His eyes moved down to her lips, his tongue peaking out to wet his own in anticipation. “And Evan and Bree.” He added before leaning forward and placing his lips on hers.
The kiss was a bit rough, his mouth enveloping her. Adrienne closed her eyes at the feeling of him pressed against her, letting out a soft hum. She moved her hands to his waist as his tongue brushed her lips, urging her to open her mouth. She did without hesitation, but Cameron moved a hand to the back of her neck, weaving his finger through her hair to pull her back, connecting their lips.
“You know, cause it is their wedding and all. Don’t want to be a rude fuck up, as usual.” He continued, and Adrienne didn’t have anytime to react before his lips were on hers once again. She let out a startled hum at the impact, which turned soft as she basked in the feeling of him. But before the kiss could get any more heated, Adrienne pulled back with a hand to his bare chest. “And Wrigley.” She added softly.
Camron’s eyes bounded between hers, a slight shift in his gaze as he took in her words. Adrienne pretended not to see how his mood changed, taking note of the subtle shift of his jaw as she smiled softly at him, masking her own expression. He then nodded. “Yeah.” He said with a barely noticeable exhale. “Can’t forget our Scooby Doo.” He quipped, straightening up. His wife let out a small chuckle. “Now come on, Velma, we’ve got a bridal shower to get ready for.” He huffed, grasping her hand and leading her out of the kitchen.
“Engagement party.”
“Eh, same difference.”
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“I’m gonna go find Bree,” Adrienne said once she entered the place. “Wait, what ab-“ She didn’t even give Cameron a chance to finish as she pecked his lips and rushed off, her high heels clicking against the floor.
“The bags.” He finished in a mumble before sighing.
Adrienne on the other hand was already following the room number that Bree gave her to the dressing room. As she walked, though, she had to admit to herself that the nervousness was eating away at her. Her hands had that shake she could never get rid of, and her heart sounded like a loud drum in her head whenever she was alone. She wasn’t sure if the excitement of seeing her best girls was enough to hide the sheer panic she was on the brink of.
She made it to the double doors on the second floor, in the middle of the hall. She was about to knock, but hesitated, hand freezing mid-air. She glanced over to see that her fist was shaking, like she was shivering from the cold. She let out a deep sigh then, unclenching her fingers dropping her hand by her side with a shake.
She took in another deep breath, holding it firmly for a few seconds before releasing. She focused her mind on a sound other than her heart thy was raging in her chest, tuning in to what she could hear around her. There was nothing much, the floor was pretty silent. She listened closer, eyes still closed, when she heard the sound of voices inside the room before her. She couldn’t make out a thing that was being said, but there was obviously a conversation going on.
Adrienne then gulped, and with one final deep breath and a beaming smile, she rapped her knuckles against the cream-painted door before letting herself in.
“Hello, hello.” She said softly, easing around the corner to see her best friends standing there, now looking her way.
“Ari!” Bree squealed, rushing over to her.
“Bree!” Adrienne beamed, opening her arms for the girl. Bree met her in a bone-crushing hug, overflowing with excitement with her arms around Adrienne’s neck as she rocked them side to side in the embrace. “Ohh, it’s so good to see you.” Bree said before pulling back, her hands moving on the girls’s shoulders. “And you look wonderful!”
“Me? No, you!” Adrienne replied, looking the girl up and down. “I mean, look at you! Absolutely stunning.” She gushed. She then brought a hand to her heart, smiling at her best friend. “I’m so happy for you.” She said softly, only for Bree to playfully push her hands away. “Oh, stop it, you’re gonna make me cry.” He said, and the two shared a laugh before it softly died down.
Adrienne then turned her gaze to the other woman in the room, eyes landing on the tall blonde who stood a few feet away from them. Her hands were clasped in front of her, looking between her two friends with a soft smile that bridged into something more awkward.
When Adrienne turned, their eyes met, causing Lucy to give her a pursed-lipped smile. “Hi, Adrienne.” The air was a bit tense as the two looked at each other, and Lucy’s eyes bounded between anything she could find and Adrienne’s gaze.
“Lucy,” Adrienne said softly, looking the woman up and down. “Come here.” She whispered as she walked over, arms open. Lucy let out a breath she didn’t even know she was holding, the sound coming out as a soft laugh as Adrienne brought her into her arms. Lucy closed her eyes, basking in the feeling. “It’s so good to see you.” She said before pulling back. “Look, I’m so—.”
“It’s fine.” Adrienne cut her off. She shook her head softly, looking down as she clasped Lucy’s hands in hers. She gave her hands a quick squeeze, plastering a small smile on her lips. “It’s okay, Lucy. We’re okay.” She reassured. Lucy let out a small breath as she nodded, reciprocating the smile. “Yeah.” She muttered. Adrienne patted her arm before turning back to Bree, who was just turning around from looking at herself in the mirror as she fixed her makeup. Though, her smile wasn’t as big as before.
She let out a soft sigh, looking between them. “I am so happy to see you guys, but, I have something to admit.” She said, nervously playing with her fingers. Adrienne and Lucy shared a glance before Bree gestured to the vanity. “Have a seat.” Lucy moved to have a seat in front of the mirror with Bree next to her while Adrienne stood on the other side of Lucy, giving a good look at herself in the mirror.
“Uh, I really..don’t know how to say this.” Bree started, looking up from her hands to her soon-to-be bridesmaids. “I mean, you guys probably assumed already, but just know that I didn’t want it—“
“This century, Bree.” Adrienne cooed, looking over at the woman. “It’s okay, Lucy and I are big girls, we can handle it, right Luce?” Adrienne quipped, patting the blonde on the arm.
“Right.” Lucy nodded. “I mean, you of all people should know we can handle crazy news.” She said, nudging the short haired-girl as she and Adrienne laughed. Adrienne nodded before her smile dropped slightly.
“Unless you plan on telling us you’re second-guessing things.” She said, moving away from the mirror to stand before the girl. “Because that, I don’t think I can handle. I know I’m your maid of honor and all but I crack under pressure, I will tell you to leave him.” She explained, and her mini rant seemed to ease the tension from Bree, who couldn’t help but laugh.
“No, that’s not at all what I was going to say.”
“Okay, good.” Adrienne sighed, taking a seat on the ottoman at the end of the bed. “For your sake.” She then winked, causing the other to girls playfully roll their eyes.
“As I was saying.” Bree started again. “Uh,…Stephan will be here today.” She stated.
Adrienne’s eyes instantly went to Lucy at the news, though she felt as if her brain had a spasm at the information. Her hands moved from holding her up on the seat to clasping themselves in her lap. She tried her hardest to keep her eyes forward, bouncing between Bree and Lucy. She felt her nails scrape against the back of her hands as she twisted her fingers, softly popping her knuckles.
It’d always been a nervous tic of hers, and the topic of conversation that involved the worst man she’s ever met and made her college years a living hell wasn’t doing anything to ease her mind.
Lucy blinked, shock washing over her features only briefly before she simply shook her head. “Okay.” She chirped. “Yeah, okay, that’s fine. That’s totally fine, Bree.” She said.
“Are you sure?” Bree questioned worriedly.
“Yes, yes, I am fine, Bree. That was…long ago.”
“There won’t be any issues.” Bree readied her, moving to clash Lucy’s hands in hers. “I promise. I begged Evan not to even invite him today.”
“Oh, Bree, stop. Stop.” Lucy said.
“You guys won’t even have to speak to him.” She said, looking over at Adrienne, who plastered on a forced smile as quickly as she could. “There’s gonna be so many people here and I already told Evan to keep him away from you.”
“I am fine. We are fine.” Lucy said with a humorless chortle, shooting a quick glance to the other woman in the room, who nodded stiffly. “Okay?”
“Okay,” Bree said softly.
“I am good,” Lucy stated, turning towards the vanity and grabbing herself a glass of champagne, taking a large sip. Adrienne also helped herself to a glass that was next to her, finishing it in one go.
“Besides, you’re doing so much better than you were back then,” Bree added, looking at Lucy. Adrienne’s brows shot up at her words, lips still cupping the rim of the glass. She lowered the now-empty glass, softly clearing her throat while Lucy let out a stiff sigh. “Yeah.” She uttered.
“Are we talking about Stephen already?” A familiar voice chimed in behind them, causing a smile to beam across their faces.
“Pippa!” Adrienne said, standing from her seat.
“Wow, you look so fucking beautiful!” Pippa said holding her arms out as Bree walked towards her for a hug. “I’m so happy you’re here.” Bree said, squeezing the girl.
Pippa then moved over to Adrienne, who grinned as she opened her arms. “My Puswa!” She cheesed, causing Pippa to grin.
“Puswa indeed.” They embraced, rocking side to side before releasing. Lucy then walked over with a large smile. “Hi, Pippa.”
“Hi.” Pippa said, a bit less enthusiastically as she gave the blonde a hug. It was apparent that she still held affection for the girl, though time had strained their relationship from what it was in the beginning.
“It’s been ages.” Lucy said, breaking away from the hug.
“Yeah.” Pippa said, before she could continue, there was a distant voice that spoke up from the other side of the door.
“Bree, can you come out here!”
“That’s your cue, babe.” Adrienne said, patting the girl on the back. Bree nodded, walking towards the door.
“You look so fucking pretty.” Pippa called out to her.
“So, so, pretty.” Lucy chimed in, the three of them now watching as Bree exited the room wave a small wave. The chatter within the room died down, and the leftover women turned to look at one another, letting out silence filling hums to stop the awkward silence.
Lucy turned back to the vanity, having a seat while Pippa moved to fix herself a glass of champagne. Seeing that her glass was due for another fill, Adrienne followed her, awaiting.
Pippa filled hers first and was giving herself a nice glass when she looked up and saw Lucy doing her hair. “You want me to do it?” She asked, watching the blonde try to wand curl her tresses.
Lucy hesitated, pursing her lips as she looked at her sore. “Yeah.” She admitted, and Pippa was quick to walk over, setting down her glass while Adrienne moved to the seat Bree occupied previously.
“Hey, are you still seeing that finance dude?” Adrienne asked, watching as Pippa took the hot hair tool and Lucy’s locks into her hands.
Pippa scoffed. “No, that’s done for.”
“Oh, Jason, is that the architect?” Lucy asked, looking between the women in the mirror.
“No, that’s Matthew, Jason’s the finance bro. And we just went on a few uneventful dates.” Pippa shrugged lousily.
“Wait, Matthew, like the Matthew that I work with?” Adrienne questioned, looking up at the woman. When Pippa didn’t answer, only plastering on a slightly bashful expression, Adrienne sighed. “Jesus, Pippa, that guy’s, like, my enemy.”
“Sorry! I met him at that luncheon you took me to.”
“That was almost a year ago.” Adrienne said, gobsmacked.
“It didn’t last that long, trust me.” Pippa said, though her words didn’t do any better to ease any of Adrienne’s worries. “I don’t even know how’d I prioritize another person right now.” She said, curly Lucy’s hair.
“Yeah, I mean, it’s just time management.” Lucy stated.
“Time management? Wow, don’t make it sound so sexy, Lucy. Pervert.” Pippa quipped, trying to let the woman’s little jabs roll off her shoulders.
“No, no.” Lucy said, letting out the smallest of laughs. “I’m just saying, I-I make it work.” Adrienne eyed the pair, the tension between them thick enough to cut with a knife. She took another gulp of her champagne, simply listening to their conversation. “Right, Adrienne?” The blonde asked.
“I mean, yeah.” Adrienne answered awkwardly, shrugging her shoulders. “But Cameron and I have history, our time management issues were solved in college. I mean, I couldn’t imagine trying to date with the job I have now.” She stated.
“Speaking of dating, is Max coming today?” Pippa questioned with a tilt of her head.
“No. No, he couldn’t make it.”
“Yeah. It’s probably smart to keep him away today.” Pippa chortled, her mind racing with all the possibilities of how today could go, especially with the man himself being present.
“I really wanted him to come, but he just had work.” Lucy said, but her words were convincing to neither of the girls in the room. The blonde watched as Pippa and Adrienne shared a quick and knowing glance.
“Mm.” Adrienne hummed, tossing back another gulp while Pippa pursed her lips.
“Okay, I’m…”Pippa started, stilling curling Lucy’s hair before she let out a sigh. “I’m just gonna say this once and then I’m going to drop it.”
“Pippa.” Adrienne warned, standing back up and moving to fix herself another glass of champagne, though hers wasn’t empty just yet. Pippa ignored her friend’s warning, continuing her statement.
“I really hope that you can avoid going down the whole Stephen rabbit hole today.”
“Jesus Christ, there’s no rabbit hole.” Lucy immediately responded, looking at the woman through the mirror. “It’s been…four years. I can handle seeing him for two hours at a fucking…engagement luncheon thing.” She spat.
“I think she’s just saying it for Bree’s sake.” Adrienne cut in from behind them, champagne bottle in hand. “It’s her day, and it’s very important, and if ever there were a time for us to not be shitty friends to her, this is her moment.” She added firmly, eyeing the back of their heads. Pippa nodded along to her words while Lucy seemed to look totally uninterested in the conversation, trying to hide their words were eating at her. “So, let’s just subvert our expectations, shall we?” She finished. “All of us.”
“I said I was fine, and I meant it.” Lucy said with a tight tone. Pippa pursed her lips as she finished her head, to which Lucy grabbed with a tight-lipped smile. “Thank you.” She muttered, stilling curling looking at herself in the mirror while Pippa moved to the available seat next to her. Adrienne let out a small sigh as she sat back down on the ottoman, glad that that conversation was over. She then poured herself another glass of champagne. Any other time, she would’ve stopped herself from having so many drinks, or at least Cameron would, but her nerves were so shot that she couldn’t even tell if the alcohol was doing anything.
Pippa let out a scoff as she looked at herself in the mirror, one that sounded more like a pitiful laugh. “Well, good news is we can’t fuck up more than we already have.”
“I don’t want to talk about it.” Lucy snipped. “Any of it.” She said, putting on her mascara.
Adrienne let out a sigh from behind them, standing from her seat. “You know what, I can’t do this.” She mumbled, taking the bottle back into her hands. “I’m gonna go, and maybe when you guys hit the court yard, you’re not making today about yourselves for at least four fucking seconds.” Her voice was bored and she rubbed at her temple as she strutted out the door, only the sound of her heels filling the silence of the room.
─────────────ᝰ.ᐟ────────────
“Shots without me?” Adrienne asked as she walked ever to the small table under a sun umbrella, where her college friends had gathered. They all turned at the sound of her voice, the ones she hadn’t seen yet smiling at her.
“Where have you been, I called you, like, twice.” Cameron asked, holding his arm out as she walked over. He wrapped it around her shoulder, bringing her close and laying a smooch on her temple. Adrienne cheesed at him, placing her bottle and glass on the table.
“I was in the bathroom. I’ve had, like, all liquids today and those three glasses of champagne didn’t help.” She quipped with a grin.
“Yeah, man, relax.” Evan chimed in, turning the attention to him as he looked at Cameron. “She was gone for, like, three seconds. Don’t call the police like you did last time.” He chided, cuasing the table to chuckle while Cameron playfully rolled his eyes.
“That was one time, four years ago. She was drunk at a music festival, what else was I supposed to do?” He asked.
“Oh, it’s okay, baby.” Adrienne said, raising a hand to rub a soothing circle on his chest. “At least I know you care.” She said as she eased from under his arm, turning to the man next to her. “Evan!” She cheesed, holding her arms out. And the man she would consider one of her best friends grinned, bringing her into his arms. “Oh my goodness, I’m so happy for you.” She cheered, squeezing the man with her arms around his neck.
Evan, whose arms were around her waist, rubbed at her back. He hummed in the embrace, neither of the pair gauging the look Cameron and Lucy were giving them. The blonde glanced at the married man as she took a sip from her champagne glass.
Adrienne pulled back, still beaming. “Dude, I can’t believe you’re about to be a married man.” She said, snickering.
“I mean, I couldn’t for Cameron either, and now look at us.” He said, and the two then shared a laugh.
“Are you excited?” Adrienne questioned.
“Of course I’m excited.” Even stated, his hands sliding down to her waist as he turned to his wife, who met his eyes with a smile. “It feels good. So good.” He smirked, taking her hand into his.
“I love you.” Bree told him softly.
“I hope so.” Even chuckled. Bree gazed at him affectionately, bringing her hand up to the side of his cheek while his went to her waist before he pulled her in, the two sharing a kiss. Adrienne watched them, hands clasped close to her chest as she clapped softly. She then turned to her husband, whose eyes were already on her.
“I could just cry.” She said softly, poking her lip out in a little pout. Cameron, seeing where this was going, took the champagne bottle off the table. “Okay, you’re cut off.” He said, casing his wife to gape at him. “What, why?” She whined.
“We don’t need you crying at the engagement ceremony.” He stated, a smirk beginning to cross his face. “Or shit faced for that matter. Save it for the wedding.” He grinned. Adrienne couldn’t even be mad at him, especially as he began to lean down, placing his lips on hers. She hummed in content, pecking his lips again.
Cameron then pulled back from the kiss, just as Evan spoke. “So, Adrienne, how’s—.” He didn’t get a chance to finish, however, since a large man rushed up behind them and lifted Bree off the ground, causing the woman to squeal.
“Wrigley!”
“I’m stealing your wife! I’m stealing your wife!” Wrigley joked, tossing Bree around. “I am stealing your wife!” The table laughed at the man’s usual antics, watching them.
“All right, all right.” Even chuckled, patting the man’s shoulder as he set Bree back on the ground. “Wrigley!” Bree chirped, turning to dawg at the large man as she laughed.
“You know, this is a very, uh, fancy dancy party we got here, huh?” He chuckled, his eyes shooting to the rest of the table. He let out a short gasp at the sight of Adrienne, who grinned at him. “Chase!” He said, walking over to the woman and bringing her into a big hug. “Oh, Chase, it’s so good to see you. Looking good as ever!” He said.
“It’s nice to see you too, Scoob.” Adrienne said, pulling back from the embrace with a smile. The man chuckled at the name, looking down at her. “That name still? Is it ever going to stop?”
“Nope.” Adrienne chided, placing her hands on her hips. “Not unless you let me call you Mike?” She inquired, and the man was already shaking his head as he pushed his hair from out of his face. “Yeah, not happening.”
“Then Scoob it is.” She chuckled. She watched as he and Cameron greeted one another, dapping each other up and embracing. They shared a few mumbled words that none of them could make out, but Adrienne decided to wait to question.
The man’s eyes then drifted, landing on the other woman at the table. “Hey, Lucy!” He said, walking over to her.
“Hey, Wrigley.”
“Looking good, looking so good!” The man’s eyes cheered, hiding his arms about. He didn’t even give Lucy time to reason before he was pulling her into his arms. He released from the hug and turned back to Bree, setting his sights on her for another embrace. “You know what, bring it in!” He beamed, and Bree didn’t seem opposed to giving the man another hug, this time more intimate than the one they shared earlier. “The bride gets an extra hug.” Wrigley said as she squeezed the short girl, while Evan stood next to them awkwardly, considering he hadn’t even gotten a hello yet.
Adrienne and Cameron simply watched, seeing Wrigley let the girl go and Evan immediately questioning him. “Dude, are you high?” He asked, a whisper of a smile on his face as he tilted his head. He didn’t seem pissed, but if you know Evan, you know this was going to be as rude as it was going to get.
“Am I what?” Wrigley echoed, but didn’t even give the man time to repeat anything before shaking his head. “No…Don’t tell Pippa. Where is Pippa by the way? She here?” He asked, looking around. No one else wanted to dwell on the fact that he was, in fact, high, so they began looking around, seeing if they could spot the girl who’s always been there for him.
“Uh, I don’t think she’s come in yet, actually.”
“I could’ve sworn I saw her…”
“No, she is right over…there!” Lucy said, directing the large and inebriated man to the bar. Wrigley shouted in excitement, catching them all off guard. “Hey! Pippa!”
“Wrigley, just…”
“Don’t run, Wrigley.”
Wrigley, walk!” Cameron, Adrienne, and Evan chimed in, watching the large man run after his ex-girlfriend. “Walk, please!” Evan sighed.
“Pippa!” Wrigley shouted again.
“What a child.” Lucy sighed, causing Bree to gasp lightly.
“You’re so mean, Lucy.” She said with a small laugh, all while Lucy looked at her in surprise, hugging her shoulders.
“What are you talking about? It’s like every girl’s dream to be chased around a party by a coked-up gorilla.” The blonde said sarcastically, only smiling when Adrienne gave her arms a small swat in warning.
“It was his brother’s birthday yesterday. So, maybe, take it easy on him.” Evan stated firmly. Lucy’s face dropped, giving the man a somewhat solemn expression as he started at her. There was then a crash from the other side of the pavilion, causing them to look over at Wrigley, by himself, helping pick up a cupcake platter.
Adrienne’s eyes, however, watched Evan and Lucy, who shared a look after his prior words with her. When the crash happened, she felt her heart clench at the sight of her best friend, and was about to walk over, when Cameron placed his hand over hers. “I got it.” He said softly, kissing her on the cheek. “I’ll be right back. Love you.” He mumbled before he and Evan were paired off.
In their wake, Pippa drifted over, an awkward look on her face. “Thanks for the heads up, guys.” She said sarcastically.
“You two have a good catch-up?” Lucy quipped, an amused smile on her face. But Pippa says nothing funny about the situation.
“Yeah, it’s funny unless you’re the one who has to clean up his mess.” She stated, staring at the blonde.
“You don’t have to clean up his mess anymore, Pip.” Adrienne spoke up, her heels clicking against the pavement as she walked down the steps.
“That’s rich, coming from you.” Pippa snipped, causing Adrienne to pause as she raised her brows in surprise. Lucy and Bree shared a similar story confession to her, eyes bouncing between them. “Pippa.” Bree said worriedly, but Adrienne simply shook her head. She let out a breathy laugh of shock before simply shaking her head. “I’m going to find something I can eat.” She said before walking off.
She could hear the girls share a few words before she was out of earshot, and she did her best not to think about it, walking over to the food bar.
She let out a tense sigh, picking up a small platter to fill her plate with whatever finger food was available. She was in the middle of picking up a macaroon when she felt a hand smooth over her waist.
“Good, you’re eating. I could feel you becoming hangry from the other side of the yard.” Cameron said, giving her waist a small pinch. Adrienne let out a startled him at his fingers, slapping them away with a macaroon halfway out of her mouth. She put the pastry, covering her mouth with her hand as she chewed.
“Shut up.” She hissed playfully, muffled due to the food in her mouth. Cameron grinned, looking down at her.
“Oh, it’s not working, you’re still a bit snippy. Here, have some more.” He quipped, picking up another one and holding it out to her. Adrienne smacked him again, this time on his arm and a little harder. Cameron hissed as if it hurt, chuckling as he ate a pastry himself. Their laughter died down into something softer as they stood there eating.
Once Adrienne was done with her pastry, she looked up at Cameron, who’d moved on to the meatballs. She watched him eat the meatballs off a toothpick and try to avoid propping sauce onto his outfit.
“You know, I really love you, right?” She asked.
Cameron looked down at her, and she was so happy to see those ocean green eyes staring back at her. Those same eyes that she’d done everything for.
“I mean, I’d hope so.” Cameron said with a small smirk. “We’ve been married for two years and together, for like, ever, so.” He chuckled, but seeing the look Adrienne was giving him made him tone it down a bit. He set down his plate on the table, turning to her. “Yes, I know that, Lou.” He said, taking her things from her hands and setting them down as well. “And I love you too. Truly.” He said, not breaking eye contact with her.
“Madly, deeply?” Adrienne finished, causing Cameron to smile. It was one of their favorite movies.
“Yes, Adrienne Louise Cade, I am truly, madly, and deeply in love with you.” He said, and watched as the girl tucked her face down, trying to hide how large she was grinning and how much she was blushing.
“Oh don’t hide from me now, you’re the one who brought this up.” Cameron said, placing his fingers under her shin to softly lift her head. He wasn’t content until their eyes were locked again, and he wasn’t gazing into those brown irises that seemed to glow a different shade in the sunlight. “Where is all this coming from?” He asked, caressing his thumb against her skin softly.
Adrienne shrugged. “I don’t know, you know how weddings make me.” She stated.
“Oh, trust me, I know.” Cameron said, moving his hands down to her waist and bringing her closer. “I’m surprised you’re not pregnant yet with how weddings make you.” He mumbled in her ear, causing Adrienne to gasp. “Camron.” She said swatting him on the bottom since it was the closest his hands could reach.
“See, look at you, you animal.” He snipped playfully, causing the girl to laugh louder. “Cameron, shut up!” Adrienne shrieked as he laughed.
It got silent between them for a few moments as their laughter died down, before Adrienne spoke again. “Wait, so you wouldn’t mind kids?”
“Not now, my love, let’s talk about this after the party.” The man said, bringing her into his embrace.
“Okay.” Adrienne said as he placed her head against his chest.
Then they stood there, enveloped in each other’s love, focused only on the person they held in their arms. Adrienne listened to his heartbeat, the steady pattern soothing her as she drowned the rest of the party out of her mind.
Cameron focused on the way she felt under his hands. Her steady breathing, the feel of her satin clothes under his fingertips and the sliver of soft skin he could feel between her skirt and top. He smelled her hair, something he liked to do often, taking in that citrus scent of her hair mask.
It was such a peaceful and blissful moment wrapped in sheer simplicity.
That was until he caught sight of something over her shoulder. He didn’t mean to let it get to him, looking at the pair, and that fiery head of hair, but Adrienne could feel him tense up.
She leaned back from the embrace, looking up at him to see that his gaze was somewhere else.
She followed his eyes, and could feel that headache coming back on when her eyes landed on them.
Across the yard, beside Stephan himself, there were other people she’d rather not see anymore.
Milo and Madison. Here together, and their gaze on them.
“Ah.” Adrienne hummed dryly. “I think I’m gonna need a shot or two.”
𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - Modern AU | Elias ‘Stack’ Moore x Black!OC & Elijah ‘Smoke’ Moore | Modern AU
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 - Things get a little heated between Smoke and Juicy…more than once. But it’s also kind of cute.
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - Mild sensual tension, soft dom undertones, food play(??), suggestive dialogue, light language. (let me know if I missed any!)
𝐉𝐚𝐳𝐳𝐢𝐞’𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 - this was honestly just something cute after all the love from my last chapter. If you guys keep it up with the feedback, trust, you’ll get more and more chapters out of me. ALSO, before you even start, this is heavily out of character. Halfway through, I realized this is more Stack coded and unless you’re nit-picky like me, it might not bother you. If you are, just close your eyes and imagine this is Smoke without all the trauma. I hope you guys enjoy! Sorry for the grammar mistakes and spelling errors!!
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 - 5,966+
𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ˖°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･
𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐨𝐧, 𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐢 | 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟎𝟎𝟑
Ever since that day after the skating rink, ever since the kiss they shared on her porch, Juicy had been over the moon whenever it came to Elijah Moore. Simply seeing him made a huge smile appear on the girls face, and though they hadn’t really agreed on what they were, even talked about it really, they were less than subtle.
Their eyes met every time the other entered the room, with stares that said more than they knew. Their lingering touches went untied, but they each felt the connection that seared between them. Their laughs were shared as usual, but there was a softness behind them that wasn’t there before.
They were not different. They were still the same.
But now new feelings were in the mix and things had started to shift into something more. Something more longing. Something more…lustful.
It first started after a long day Juicy and Mary working during the hair salon rush, she and Smoke sit on the porch alone. Stack was on her couch, asleep after the meal she and Sinclair made, and Mary was at home, getting ready for a date. Juicy was tired, barefoot, her legs in his lap while she eats from a bowl of peaches she’d sliced earlier.
Smoke watches her, his thumb brushing over the soft skin of her ankle.
“Why are you eatin’ like that?” He asked, and his voice was a bit hoarse from not speaking for a while, and now that he did.
“Like what?” The girl questioned, just before she slurped an another peach slice into her mouth.
“Like you tryna drive me crazy, girl.” He responded, causing her face to heat up at his innuendo. She let out a small laugh, but her voice is breathier than she means.
Ever since their kiss, sly comments like that have been having more of an impact on her than before. At first, she’d simply blush with a small laugh as she tried not to let her mind race, but now, she had this primal urge to pounce on him whenever she saw him, and his words didn’t make it any better.
Feeling bold, she leans forward, with the objective to feed him one of her slices and maybe say something as suggestive in response. But, just like that, his face was in bed from hers. And the world seemed to still around them as her breath got caught in her throat.
She slowly raised her fork to his lips, the dripping fruit leaking into the bowl she held up under his chin. Her eyes flickered from his intense eyes that never left her, and the fruit hanging between them.
He didn’t open his mouth until the peach was rubbed against his plump lip, and Juicy wanted to clench his legs as she watched his long tongue peek out as he took the fruit into his mouth.
He was barely done chewing before they were both leaning in, their eyes closed. And when their lips touched,she couldn’t help but think that the peach tastes way better on his lips. It wasn’t until he his tongue graced her lips didn’t she pull back from the kiss, an overwhelming feeling taking over her.
But Smoke took it as something else. He simply nodded before speaking gently. “Whenever you ready.” He said, his large hands subconsciously rubbing at her leg.
And Juicy simply continued eating her peaches, though they seemed a little closer now. And that moment stayed between them, warm and glowing like the sun touching her skin.
And those moments became more bold as time went on. Tension rose, feelings peaked and moments lingered.
The overhead bell of the Crown & Glory Beauty Supply store jingled softly as Smoke pushed the glass door open. It was dead in the store—just the faint buzz of an old fan rattling from a corner and a box TV in the top corner playing 106 & Park on low. The air-conditioning was working overtime, but it still couldn’t keep up with the summer heat beating against the glass windows. It was hot outside—real hot—the kind of heat that made everybody move just a little slower.
Juicy was behind the counter, leaning over a fashion magazine with a chewed-up pen between her fingers, glasses low on her nose, lips glossed just enough to look edible. It was new, a sparkly peach color that had a bit of flavor. He’d know, he’d tasted it when she first bought it.
Her hair was up in a messy up do, a slightly puffy roller set that was in need of a redo by her standards, with two curls escaping at the front to frame her face. She wore her name on a gold necklace and a cherry red tank top that clung to every curve like a second skin. She looked up when she heard the door, and saw Smoke stepping inside, her whole expression shifted—eyes bright, mouth soft, body leaning back with that familiar little grin she always tried to bite back.
“You ain’t supposed to be here.” She said, but there was no real protest in her voice. Only that teasing lilt he had grown addicted to. “You might make me forget I’m on the clock.”
Smoke grinned and held up a white plastic bag with ‘Thank you’ plastered over the front. “What if I said I brought you lunch?”
Juicy’s stomach answered before she could, and she rolled her eyes, laughing as she grabbed her little purse from under the counter. “Let me tell Keisha I’m takin’ my lunch break before you turn me into a damn stereotype.” Smoke chuckled low as he watched her lean over the little half-door to call into the back. “Keish! I’m takin’ my lunch now. I’ll be back in thirty.”
“You got forty-five.” Keisha called back. “But only if you bring me a pineapple soda.”
Juicy didn’t answer, just gave Smoke a playful side-eye as she walked out from behind the counter and toward the door, hips swaying with nothing but pure temptation in her denim shorts. “Come on, Mr. Delivery Boy.” She said as she passed him, while Smoke watched her as she licked his lips.
The sun hit them hard the moment they stepped outside. Smoke held the door open to his cutlass for her, parked just under the shade of a half dead oak tree off center of the stores entrance. The inside smelled like Black Ice air freshener and a little bit like him, clean clothes, cologne, and something vaguely minty.
He slid into the drivers seat and handed her the paper bag before she’d even fully shuffled into her seat. She took it, eyes wide with creepy delight, already knowing what he’d gotten her. Smoke helped her take the food out, and held the white Styrofoam to-go plate like an offering. “Figured you’d forget to eat. Got you the ten piece lemon pepper from Dock’s.”
Juicy blinked, then her lips parted in a slow grin. “You got me the good fries?”
“Seasoned and crispy. Just how you like it.”
“Mmm.” She reached out for the plate and brushed his fingers as she took it, her nails freshly done in that glittery nude pink he noticed last night when they were tangled up on her bed whispering secrets into each other’s necks. “You’re spoiling me.” She said with a little smirk, already opening the box and letting the smell take her over. “You’re gonna make me expect this every shift.” She said as she grabbed a fork to pick her fries.
Smoke leaned back in his seat, his eyes taking her in without shame. “Maybe I like spoilin’ you.”
Juicy tried not to blush, but it came anyway, spreading warm and rosy across her cheeks. She sat back in the passenger seat and picked at the fries first, licking the Cajun salt from her fingertips like she didn’t know it was killing him slowly. Smoke leaned back and watched her pick at the wings, the smell of zesty spice thick in the car. She took one bite and hummed.
“I swear, this might be better than sex.” She said with a mother full.
He arched a brow, watching the way she licked her fingers. “Might?” He questioned.
She smirked and didn’t answer, reaching for a fry instead.
For a while, they sat in easy silence. The windows were cracked just enough to let the summer breeze tease its way in. Smoke tapped a beat against the steering wheel while Luther Vandross’s ‘Take You Out’ played low from the stereo.
They hadn’t exactly told any one of their…relationship, yet. That much was understood without it needing to be said. Not Mary, not Stack, and definitely not Martin, needed to know about why they had going on. It wasn’t out of shame—at least not for Juicy. It was protection. Privacy. It was not wanting to hear her brother’s mouth or deal with Mary’s need for graphic detail or the way girls in the neighborhood would start watching her.
Smoke didn’t push. He never did. He just kept showing up.
At the end of her shift last time, he’d been parked out front with the windows down and Aaliyah playing low, just waiting to walk her to her car. The time before that, they sat in the backseat of his Cutlass for thirty minutes saying goodbye with their mouths and not a single word. His hands had found the small of her back, the inside of her thigh, the curve of her neck. None of it was ever rushed. He was always asking for permission with touch alone.
Now, watching her eat, he had to stuff his hands into his pockets to keep from reaching out.
“How long you got left?” He asked.
“’Til six. Bianca’s mom coming to drop off some things, and I gotta tag ‘em and put ‘em up front.” She took another bite from a wing, eyes fluttering as she chewed. “This so good. I should slap you.” She hummed.
“You wanna slap me?” He teased, leaning in just a bit. “What happened to all that lovin’ from the other night?”
Juicy’s eyes met his as she sipped from the stare of her cup, and for a moment, everything else went quiet. The radio, the passing car, even the hum of the air conditioning within the vehicle.
“You keep bringin’ me food and walkin’ me to my car like some gentleman, you can get some lovin’ alright.”She said softly, lips curving into a grin. “You gon’ mess around and make me soft, Smoke.” She pouted, faking annoyance with him.
“Maybe I want that.” Smoke said, his voice low, head tilted. “You already soft in all the right places.” He smirked, his head tilted as he looked her up and down.
Juicy didn’t know how to respond to that, she just looked at him for a long second. Her eyes were deep brown, like pools of warm syrup, and they narrowed just enough to let him know she was feeling it.
“Anyway.” She said, turning her eyes back to her plate. “You don’t gotta keep doing all this.”
Smoke leaned closer, his hand sliding across the center console to tap her wrist. “You don’t want me to?”
Juicy’s lips parted just enough to suck in a breath. “I didn’t say that.” She murmured.
He gave her a crooked smile, one that pulled slow and easy like honey off the spoon.
“Then hush and eat.”
She smiled like she couldn’t help herself. “You gon’ wait here until I’m off?” She asked, playing with a fry.
“Maybe.” He said before glancing at his gold watch. “Maybe I’ll wait outside. Or maybe I’ll go nap and come back. But I’ll be here.”
Juicy rolled her eyes, but it didn’t match the quiet joy stretching across her face. “You need to stop acting like we go together.” She said, letting her impulsive thoughts win as typed with him.
Smoke leaned closer, voice brushing her ear. “Oh, we don’t?” He questioned, already knowing what game the bratty girl was trying to play with him, so he decided to play a different one.
She paused, the bite of her fry halfway to her mouth. Her lips twitched again, this time with something softer—something unsure but open. “Boy, go on somewhere.” She whispered, turning her eyes away from him.
But he stayed right there. Watching her eat. Watching her smile. Watching her pretend like they weren’t already wrapped up in something they couldn’t name yet—but it was definitely felt.
“Oh, I can’t be on your space now?” He questioned, leaning a bit closer over the console, his eyes trailing her face. “This my car, I can be where I want.”
“You’re gonna smell my breath, Smoke, move.” Juicy said, leaning away from him a bit, just as he was trying to trial his lips closer to her.
He didn’t flinch. “So?”
“My breath probably smells. And that fruit punch ain’t made it no better.” She said, looking over at him, her hand over her mouth as if to block the smell from reaching him. Smoke simply started into her eyes, the only thing he could see over her hands. His eye bounced between hers as he leaned a little closer, voice dropping. “Still wanna taste it.”
Juicy’s whole body went still, the corner of her lips twitching like she was fighting something. She turned to face him fully, one leg tucked under her. “You are real bold today, huh?” She questioned, letting her hand drop.
Smoke leaned in more, his palm resting on the back of her seat, his eyes locked onto her mouth. “You been sneakin’ around with me in parking lots and empty rooms for how many days now?” He retorted. “It ain’t about being bold, baby.”
She didn’t answer, only nipped at her bottom lip.
“You lettin’ me touch all up on you, makin’ me wait just to kiss you again…”
“You already kissed me.” She said, soft as a confession.
“Yeah.” He said, his thumb now brushing against her jawline. “But it ain’t enough. Not when I think about it every time you walk away from me.”
Juicy’s eyes fluttered closed for a half-second, the tension so thick it hung in the car like fog.
She opened her eyes again, and they were darker now, shaded in lust and something tender. “I’m really feelin’ you, Smoke.” She murmured. “I just don’t want nobody in my business yet. Not my brother, not Mary, nobody. Not ‘til I know this is real.”
Smoke nodded slowly. “Then let me show you it is.”
He leaned in again—closer this time—and just before their lips met, she pulled back and covered her mouth with her hand.
“Wait, wait, wait.” She said, laughing softly. “I told you. My breath probably smells like lunch.”
Smoke smirked. “I told you. I don’t care.”
Then he kissed her.
Soft at first, warm and slow, like a question he already knew the answer to. Juicy melted into it, her hand slipping behind his neck, her lips parting without hesitation. He kissed her like he’d been waiting since the rink, since the last car meetup, since every sideways glance and half-second pause between them.
She sighed into him, her body turning so her knee brushed his thigh, and his hand slid down to her waist, tugging her closer. Her fries were forgotten on the dash, the radio hummed on, and somewhere in the distance, construction work buzzed—but all she could focus on was the way his fingers pressed into her hip, the heat of his mouth, the way he kissed her like she was his favorite food and he was starving.
By the time they pulled apart, her lip gloss was gone and her heart was racing.
Smoke looked at her, thumb brushing the side of her face like she was fragile, like he was still tasting her.
“Is that real enough for you, Juicy?”
She caught her breath, smirk tugging at her lips.
“It’s a start.” She said cheekily.
Smoke laughed, low and warm, already leaning in again.
And outside, the sun beat on the windows, heavy and golden, while Aaliyah’s voice floated from the tiny TV in the corner:
“Boy, I’ve been watching you like a hawk in the sky…”
The next time was about a week later, and they were sort of high off not seeing each other for a minute.
The house was quiet. The kind that came only when the day had finally exhaled. A low hum from the box fan in the corner of her room carried through the walls, but otherwise, silence blanketed the place like the thick heat outside.
Tyson was down for bed, knocked out cold after a long afternoon of playing with his toy dinosaurs, goldfish crackers, and singing Whitney Houston songs off-key around the house. Sinclair was out on a date with some boy guy, and Martin was God-knows-where, probably laid up with the flavor of the week. The house was Juicy’s for the night, and she’d planned to take full advantage of that.
She had just slipped into her favorite silk moomoo—champagne-pink and ultra soft, loose fitting but clinging in just the right places while letting everything else breathe. Her legs were smooth, freshly shaven and moisturized, and her roller set was tightly secured beneath a silk, butter-colored scarf. Her room smelled like bag champa incense and cocoa butter, a familiar blend of calm and comfort. The lights were dim, casting a warm amber glow from her bedside lamp. Juicy glanced at the clock. 10:46 p.m.
She was leaning over her nightstand, lighting a second stick of incense when a sharp tap-tap at the window made her jump.
Her heart stuttered.
Wide-eyed, she turned slowly, suspicious, hand hovering near her dresser drawer where she kept her little knife—just in case. Another knock followed, softer this time. She crept toward the window, staying low, her silk moomoo brushing against the floor as she moved. She peeked between the slats of her blinds and gasped.
Smoke.
Standing outside her window, straight faced, his stature intense as if he could see through the blinds. His gold chain glinted under the streetlight, and he lifted his hand in a slow wave, eyes locked on hers.
Juicy let out a tiny squeal, panicking. “Oh my God,” she whispered to herself, yanking the curtain closed.
Her room turned dark again, but her mind was racing. She spun around, clutching her moomoo. Why tonight? Why when she had her scarf on, her rollers showing through the wrap? She felt so exposed, caught mid-transformation. She wasn’t cute, she wasn’t ready.
She paced, muttering, “Why the hell would he come tonight? I look crazy…” She was in distress.
Then, from outside, his voice cut through the quiet.
“I’ve already seen you in your rollers.” He said, cool and calm, like he was talking with his lips pressed against her skin instead of standing on the other side of a pane of glass. “Open the window, Juicy.”
She froze. Could he hear me? She thought.
Her breath was caught in her throat, somewhere between embarrassment and excitement. Then, with a soft curse and a helpless little pout, she padded back over to the window and lifted it with a quiet creak. A second later, Smoke was climbing through like some bad-ass high school boyfriend in a ’80s movie. It seems easy and he seemed unbothered, like he’d done it a hundred times before.
His feet touched down on her carpet and his eyes immediately swept over her.
“Damn.” He said, voice a little lower now. “You always look good, but this right here? Yeah…this different.” He said, his tongue peeking out to trace over his bottom lip.
Juicy crossed her arms, suddenly shy. “Don’t start…” She warned.
“I’m serious.” He said, taking a slow step closer. “I don’t know why you hidin’ from me like I ain’t seen you in a bonnet before.”
“This ain’t no bonnet.” She said, fussing gently, cheeks warm. “This a roller set. Whole different level of ugly.”
He chuckled. “Ugly where?”
“You’re blind, Smoke.”
“Nah.” He said, taking her hand. “I see just fine.”
And that was all it took for her shoulders to drop a little, her nerves to settle into something soft and warm.
She turned from him to straighten her bed, trying to keep her hands busy. “And now what’s given you the gall to show up this time of night?”
“Ain’t nobody home but you and the baby.” He said, settling onto the edge of her bed. “And he sleep, ain’t he?”
“Yeah, but you know how Sinclair be. If she find out you was over here this late, she gon’ tell everybody and they mama.”
Smoke leaned back on his palms, his chain sliding against his chest. “Then I guess we better be quiet.”
Juicy turned slowly to face him, chin lifted in that defiant little way she always did when she was trying to keep herself from melting. “Smoke…” She trailed off, trying not to grin as she fluffed the pillow, avoiding his eyes. “I’m serious.”
“I missed you.” He said, voice dipping again as she changed the subject. And by the way he rushed it out, it’s been meaning to come off his tongue since he first laid eyes on her. “Been runnin’ all week, tryna get shit done with Stack. I been thinkin’ ‘bout you, though. How you sound.” He began, his hands trailing over to her, pulling her closer by the fabric of her gown. “How you taste.” His raised his hand to light grace over her lips, which were buttered in chapstick. “How you make them little sounds when I kiss on that spot right there…” He reached up and brushed his fingers gently along the side of her neck.
Juicy shivered, tucking her neck a bit. “You can’t keep doin’ this…” She mumbled with a small pout.
“Doin’ what?”
“Showin’ up late, and sayin’ stuff that makes me forget why I said you couldn’t come over in the first place.”
He grinned slowly, a look Juicy knew was dangerous. “Then don’t say I can’t come over.” He shrugged, as if it was such a simple solution.
She rolled her eyes but her smile gave her away. “You get on my nerves.”
Smoke stood and stepped toward her, closing the small gap between them. “Good.” He said, hands sliding to her waist. “Then you gon’ really hate this.”
He leaned in slow, lips almost brushing hers when she suddenly pulled back a little, nose scrunching up.
“Wait.” She whispered, laughing nervously. “I just brushed my teeth…”
Smoke paused, then smirked.
“And?”
“And that’s nasty!”
“I don’t care if your breath smell like hot dogs at a block party.” He said, lowering his voice. “I still want it.”
She let out a laugh, hand lightly pushing at his chest. “Oh, you’re nasty.”
Then he kissed her, something warm and deep. And just like that, they melted.
The kiss grew, slow but intense, their bodies pressing close, her silk moomoo whispering as it moved between them. It deepened naturally, his hands resting gently on her waist while hers slid around his neck. His hands roamed gently, not grabbing but holding onto her he was trying to memorize every curve. Juicy kissed him back, one hand curling around the back of his neck, the other resting softly on his chest.
The incense smoke curled around them.
His touch was slow, reverent, but had an unmistakable heat underneath them. When he backed her against the dresser, one hand sliding along the small of her back, she gasped softly, then caught her breath in his mouth.
Her silk moomoo slipped between his fingers like water.
The incense kept burning. Outside, the world kept spinning, but inside that room, it was just the two of them, quiet and tangled, while suspended in heat and candlelight. They stayed locked in that moment, breath against breath, a love they weren’t ready to explain yet.
Eventually, Juicy pulled away, breathing a little harder, her lips kiss-swollen, eyes heavy and breath barely above a whisper. “You better go.” She whispered. “I don’t stay too long. You know I gotta be up early.”
Smoke rested his forehead against hers. “I ain’t stayin’. Just needed to see you.”
She brushed her fingers across his cheek. “I know.”
Then he kissed her once more before he turned to the window. But before he left, he glanced back at her over his shoulder and grinned. “You look real good in that, you know. Like, a housewife or some, might have to get you another.”
Juicy couldn’t fight her grin as she grabbed her pillow and threw it at him, laughing softly. “Get out, boy.”
He caught it easily, flashed a smirk before he tossed it back at her, and disappeared out the window into the thick summer night. Leaving Juicy standing in her incense filled, candle lit room, heart thudding against her moomoo, smiling like a woman who had it bad.
And then there were the soft moments between them neither questioned.
Two days later, the sun hung high in the sky, casting golden light over the neighborhood as Juicy walked over to Stack and Smoke’s place with a plastic bag hanging from her hand. She held Missy’s peach cobbler mingling with the buttery scent of her famous pecan pie. Tucked beneath it were still-warm containers from Sinclair cooking—fried catfish, cabbage, and macaroni and cheese with a crunchy, golden crust.
Juicy had just planned to drop it off. She assumed both men were home—maybe out back playing dominoes or arguing over the game on TV. So she didn’t bother calling, didn’t reapply her lip gloss, didn’t even leave with the intention of staying long. She had plans with Mary, anyway, to get their nails done and gossip.
But inside of the More residence, the house was cool and still, carrying the faint scent of weed and linen spray. The blinds were turned just enough to let in slats of warm afternoon light, stretching across the hardwood like tiger stripes. It was one of the rare days Stack wasn’t home—off somewhere chasing money or women or both—and the place felt too quiet without his usual loud presence. Smoke didn’t liked it that way.
But there was nothing he could do about it, so he had just settled on the couch, a blunt half-rolled between his fingers, when a soft knock landed on the front door.
He knew that knock. And he was giddy about it before even getting up, though his face didn't really show it.
When he opened the door, there she was. His Juicy, dressed in a fitted white tank top and jeans that hugged her hips just right, gold earrings swaying gently with every movement and and her baby fat belly peeking out proudly, crowned by a ruby-studded belly ring that glinted in the sun. She held a little plastic grocery bag in her hand like she was just dropping something off, like she hadn't planned this.
When Juicy knocked, she expected Stack’s voice booming through the door or both of them calling out to her. But instead, it was Smoke who opened it—shirtless, as usual, his chain glinting in the light and his black durag still on.
“Oh.” She said, blinking.
His lips curved. “Oh?”
“I thought both y’all was here.”
“Nah. Stack out handling something. Just me,” he said, stepping aside and nodding her in. “Come on.”
She hesitated only for a second before stepping into the house. The cool air brushed against her skin, goosebumps rising as the scent of sandalwood and cologne hit her nose. Her skin was glistening from her coco butter later and smelled like brown sugar and his eyes trailed her figure as she walked by.
She set the bag on the kitchen counter and was already turning to leave when she felt him. His presence was close, his body blocking her path without even touching her.
“Where you going?” Smoke asked softly.
Juicy tilted her head, eyes narrowing, but her lips twitched. That voice of his. That low, patient, and just on the edge of coaxing voice, always meant trouble.
“I just came to drop these off.” She said, brushing invisible lint off her shirt. “Mary’s waitin’ on me. We supposed to go get our nails did.”
He didn’t move.
“I want you to fix me a plate.”
Juicy raised a brow. “You want me to fix you your plate?” She repeated, a bit take aback by his audacity.
“I’m hungry.” He said, voice deeper now, eyes still gentle. “Come on, Juicy.” He pleaded.
She let out a breathy laugh, not even bothering to hide her smile now. “Alright, damn. Let me wash my hands.”
In the kitchen, she moved like she’d done it a hundred times before. Opened the cabinets, found the plates without asking, scooped a fat helping of mac and cheese onto a plate, along with some catfish and added a side of cabbage, warmed it up in the microwave all while Smoke leaned against the fridge and watched her with something that looked dangerously close to adoration.
When the microwave dinged, she grabbed a fork, set it on the plate, and handed it to him.
But he didn’t take it.
Instead, he jutted his head before he turned and walked to the living room, flopping back onto the couch with the blunt now behind his ear, juicy following.
When juicy stood there, his plate and fork in her hands, Smoke looked back up at her and then patted the cushion next to him. Juicy narrowed her eyes. “Boy, if you don’t—”
“Come on, Juicy.” He said again, sweet and smooth and far too tempting.
She sighed, rolled her eyes, but made her way over and sat beside him, holding the plate out to him again. But Smoke simply looked over at her again, a rare playful glint in his eyes, and Juicy was rolling her eyes at him before he even opened his mouth.
“You ain’t gon’ feed me?” He asked.
“Boy, what?” She asked, scoffing softly, though her amusement was apparent as she held a small smile at him. Smoke snaked his lips, cutting his eyes at her. “Come on, Juicy.” He said, and his voice was soft but thick with something heavier. Something that sat right beneath the surface and made her heart skip just a little. She stared at him, lips parted, that nervous excitement fluttering in her chest when she noticed how…domesticated this felt and how soft it was. She could feel her body heat rise. He was shirtless, gold chain glinting, and close enough that she could count the lashes on his eyes.
“Okay.” She agreed before she broke a piece of the fish and brought it to his lips. He took it, slow, like he was tasting her fingers as much as the food. She rolled her eyes and fed him a bite of mac and cheese next. He let out a low groan of approval that sent heat curling up her spine.
“You gon’ spoil me.” He murmured between bites.
“Ain’t that what you want?” She asked, smirking.
He looked at her, eyes soft and unreadable. “I want you.”
She cut her eyes to him as she gather food onto the fork and held it in front of his mouth. “Don’t get used to it.”
“Too late.” And they sat down on the couch beside, and she feed him for a while, with the plate and fork in hand. The vibe had shifted into something playful to soft. The television played in the background, an episode of The Sparanos, humming low through the TV speakers.
She fed him fork after fork, laughing when he groaned dramatically at how good the food was, rolling his eyes and leaning back like he couldn’t take it. Juice wiped a bit of hot sauce from the corner of his mouth with her thumb and licked it away.
“You act like you ain’t never ate before.”
“I ain’t never ate like this.” He teased.
When the plate was clean, she started gathering it up, brushing crumbs off her lap. “Alright, I gotta go. Mary gon’ think I stood her up—”
“Hold up.” Smoke said, stretching. “I ain’t get dessert yet.”
“You want dessert?” The girl asked, a bit sassily as she placed her hands on her hip. “Yeah, I want something sweet.”
She rolled her eyes but was smiling too hard to pretend she meant it. “Fine. Pecan pie or cobbler?”
He pointed at her. “You pick.”
“That was the entrée. I want somethin’ sweet.”
She went to the kitchen and cut him a slice of Missy’s pecan pie. This time, she sat closer. Their thighs touched, as she fed him bite after bite while he kept his eyes on her, not the TV. Her fingers brushed his lips as she fed him, and he kissed the pad of her thumb when she wasn’t expecting it.
“Boy, don’t start.”
“I ain’t even done nothin’ yet.”
By the time the plate was clean, they were both smiling and too close. They laughed at something dumb on the screen and Juicy shook her head and almost dropped the fork when Smoke licked a bit of filling off her finger instead of letting her wipe it. “You a mess.” She murmured, but her tone was fond.
He took the plate and set it on the coffee table, then leaned forward, brushing his lips across her jaw before resting his forehead against hers. “Let me take you to Mary’s.”
“You don’t have to—”
“I want to.”
So she gave in. Of course she did.
She climbed in his car, trying not to smile the whole time. He drove with one hand on the wheel and the other resting on her thigh, slow strokes up and down that kept her distracted the entire ride. The windows down and the radio humming some slow R&B track that made her cheeks warm.
They didn’t talk much—just let the cicadas hum outside and the warm summer breeze float through the cracked window.
When they pulled up in front of Mary’s, she started to unbuckle, but he caught her wrist.
“Hold on.”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded stack of bills. She tried to protest, but he shook his head.
“Smoke—”
“Get somethin’ extra. Gel or whatever y’all get.”
“You know I don’t need your money.” She whispered.
“I know. But I want you lookin’ good for me. You not payin’ for your own nails and toes when I’m around. That’s mine now.”
She looked at him, lips parted, unsure whether to argue or melt.
“You always doin’ the most.” She muttered, cheeks hot. And he didn’t answer, he just leaned in and kissed her, deep and slow. It was soft and slow on the cheek, just behind the curve of her jaw, before it moved to her lips. A hand found the small of her back, and before she could fully process the moment, he took a handful of her denim covered bottom into his hand, causing Juicy to let out a small yelp into his mouth. When he pulled back, and she was on her way out of the car, he gave her a light smack her on the bottom as she stepped out of the car. “Go on now, Juicy.”
She stumbled out the car, heart racing, money clutched in her hand, cheeks redder than cherry polish. She let out a tiny squeal and grinned all the way up the walkway. She walked into Mary’s house still smiling.
Mary was in the living room, filing her nails. “What you grinnin’ for?”
Juicy simply let out a sigh, fluttering her eyes to make sure this was still real life. “Don’t worry about it.” She muttered, waving her off. But the grin didn’t fade. Not even a little.
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The bell above the bakery door gave a harsh chime when you stepped inside, the smell of sugar and grease wrapping around you, making you feel sticky before you even touched a desert. You wore an unrelenting grin despite the stale air and the woman behind the counter who looked like she hadn’t smiled in years.
“Uh, I’ll take two jelly-filled doughnuts, please.” You said brightly, leaning over the glass display case. “One grape with glaze and one strawberry powdered sugar.”
The old woman blinked once, then wordlessly reached into the case, tongs clinking against the tray. You followed the woman’s path to the register, watching with a smile brimming with anticipation as you eyed the treats, even when those frosty eyes met yours.
“That’s five dollars.” The woman deadpanned.
You quickly handed over the bill, a little bounce in your step as she took the small paper bag. “Thank you, see ya!” You chirped, waving at the woman before turning toward the exit.
The bell chimed again as the door shut behind you. Outside, the golden morning sunlight glimmered on the glass storefront. You tore into the bag immediately, pulling out the powdered doughnut and taking a bite before you could even make it past the curb. The pure sweetness melted on your tongue, sugar sticking to your lips and fingertips.
You moaned quietly. “Boy, boy, boy, that’s good.” You muttered.
You felt a sharp tingle go down your spine, like you were dumped in cold water. Every nerve in your body snapped awake. With a deep gulp of your pastry, everything became alert. You could feel your ears move as you zeroed in on the sound of a car a few blocks off heading your way, its tires screeching against the road, crashing against things as people screams echoed in the air.
Your eyes then darted to the intersection ahead, nearly fifty feet away. There was a group of kids, maybe first graders, crossing the street in a neat little line behind their teacher. They wore matching aquarium shirts, with plastic bags full of souvenirs. A scatter of a few kids lingered behind, started by a small boy dropping his lunch bag.
And just behind him, you saw the truck barreling down the road, swerving out of control straight toward them.
It was like your ears were muffled by water, the sound around you drowning out as the thump of your heart pounded in your head. You then got another shiver, enough to shake you. You could feel your power begin to take over, almost like a charge shooting through you. You could taste the adrenaline on your tongue, like metal.
You then took one step—just one—and the world slowed. Power surged through your veins, humming like it was alive.
“Shit.” You muttered.
In less than a blink, you were speeding off, over to the group of kids in a split second. You scooped the boy and his two other friends up, moving them to the sidewalk with the rest of their class in a split second. The rush of wind you left behind made the teacher’s skirt flare and knocked loose papers from her hands. The group was shocked a the sight of you, gasps sounding from others on the street as you gave the kids back.
Their screams in surprise were ignored as a chrome coating quickly warped your skin. Your skin shimmered, light rolling across the smooth, mirror-bright metal reflecting the wide-eyed faces staring at you.
You crouched, setting the kids down gently. The red-haired boy looked up at you, his huge blue glasses slipping down his nose, and his mouth hung open.
You looked back at him in equal confusion, blinking. “Uh, be careful next time.” You said, patting his ginger bowl cut. Then you turned toward the street again, scanning for the truck. You were about to take off when the same boy piped up behind you, voice small but loud.
“My lunch bag!” He yelped.
You blinked, following his gaze to the cracked asphalt where a “The Deep” lunchbox sat in the road. A sigh escaped you. You jogged over, metals skin ringing out against the pavement before crouching down to grab it, and zipped back in a blur. This earned another round of gasps from the bystanders, phones out and recording. Great, you thought.
“Here.” You said, handing it to him. His smile was worth the embarrassment though—it was wide and toothy, full of relief.
You returned it with a small smile of your own before turning back.
The truck was still coming at full speed as you stepped forward. You stood there in the street, looking the car dead on, bracing yourself just as the grill slammed into your chest. The impact rang out like an explosion, but you didn’t move a muscle, didn’t even flinch. The hood crumpled at the impact. You then pressed down on the hood, causing the back wheels to lift clean off the ground. Inside, two men screamed as the vehicle came to an unnatural stop before their eyes caught the sight of you clearly, causing them to scream again at your alien like form.
The metal groaned as the truck rocked back onto its wheels when you let go. You rounded the car to the driver’s side, yanking the door open with a screech of torn hinges.
“So…” You started, looking between the two men. “What are you guys selling? Or..stealing?” You asked,
The guy the passenger seat screamed at you speaking, while the man in the divers seat moved to scramble out of the car before freezing when your iron grip caught hold of him. “No answer?”
“Fuck you, bitch!” The man hissed, spitting in your face. You felt the small pelts against your skin, causing you to flinch at the feeling. You then squinted at the man. “Okay, well, screw you.” You mumbled, voice threatening low.
A second later, both men were gone from the truck—tossed across the street so fast the onlookers could barely register the motion. You had tied them to a lamp post with their own shoelaces.
A collective ahh rolled through the crowd, some people cheering. Your stomach dropped at the sight of dozens of phones pointed your way, recording every movement. You gave an awkward little wave and a tight-lipped smile. “Uh… hi?”
A car horn blared from behind the truck, breaking the moment. You jumped, startled, looking over to see a line of cars behind the truck. You awkwardly cleared your throat before quickly grabbing the hood of the wrecked truck and launched into the air. The ground cracked beneath your takeoff, and the cheers below faded into the wind.
You carried the mangled vehicle across the city, landing hard in the middle of a police-station parking lot. The truck hit asphalt with a metallic crash and the alarms immediately began to wail. The contract within the truck spill out, Homelander plushies stuffed full of brigs of powder. You cringed, looking mess. “Gosh, I’m so bad at this.” You muttered under your breath.
People were quick to run out of the station, looking at the chaos, but you were already off, the city shrinking beneath you.
You didn’t stop until you made it to your usual spot, your home away from home. It was a penthouse rooftop, a fancy one with lush green grass and a garden full of colorful flowers and healthy plants. It was calming. You liked to sit up here and watch time go by, the sun go down and the lights of the night come on. But, ever since they updated the place, you had to hideout most of the time because the new tenants love spending time there.
So you kept to the far end, hiding out in the old greenhouse on the far side of the building they hadn’t bothered to touch yet. Or, well, to the liking as the rest.
Your feet touched the faux grass of the old patio, skin returning to flesh, but your clothes were long gone now. You moved over to the abandoned greenhouse, flipping the small switch next to the door, which turned on the fairy lights that hung around the ceiling, encasing the room in a soft amber glow. You covered your naked form as best you could, though it wasn’t like anyone was watching, as you made your way over to the bed that your packed bag sat on top of.
After getting dressed into some sweatpants and a hoodie, you popped open the mini fridge you had stashed, pulling out a peach soda before making your way back out of the greenhouse. You flopped down in one of the old lawn chairs that surrounded the fire pit, soda cam hissing sharply when you opened it. And as you drunk the fizzy, sweet drink, you paused.
“My doughnuts.” You whined softly, voice almost mournful with a small pout on your lips. You then let your head fall back onto the chair, letting out an other sigh. You stared out at the city, pouting faintly as you imagined the sweet treats discarded and forgotten on the sidewalk, sugar melting in the sun. Or worse, smushed.
Oh how you craved a those doughnuts right now.
─────────────✦──────────────
“Ah, fuck!” Jordan hissed.
The sound of moans and skin slapping together filled the dorm room, drowned out by loud music. The air was humid, muggy with the smell of sex and cheap perfume. Jordan and Tyriq were locked in a heated competition, their breaths coming in ragged gasps as they pursued their peaks with relentless determination.
Strained groans fell the lips of Jordan and Tyriq as they both got closer and closer to their peaks. The buzzcut boy’s head was leaned back against the couch, eyes closed at the euphoric feeling between his legs. “Shit.” He said softly, his hand on top of some blonde girls head. as she moved rhythmically. He clenched his jaw, letting out a strained groan. "Mm, fuck."
“Come on dude, just give up already.” Jordan said, their thrusts unrelenting into the raven haired chick they met last night.
“Nope.” Tyriq said stiffly, huffing at the feeling of his brink reaching.
“You know you wanna.” Jordan taunted, cracking their eyes open to eye their friend in the couch, the girls head bobbing in his lap.
“Mm mm.” Tyriq shook his head, fists clenched in her hair. “Fucking, shit.” He sighed.
“Fuck!” Jordan hissed, still thrusting into the moaning girl. “I’m gonna win this.” They hissed.
“Shut up, Jordan before you blow my high.” Tyriq spat, glancing over his shoulder at his best friend, who was butt naked and plowing into the Asian girl in a chair, doggy style. “And soften my dick.”
“Just blow already!”
“Just fuck me!” The raven haired girl hissed, throwing her hair over her shoulder to look back at them. “And stop all the talking.” She spat.
Both Jordan and Tyriq looked at the girl, sharing the same expression. “Shut up.” The said simultaneously.
They went back to their focus, each going it at it respectively to see to would reach their peak first. They were each back in their rhythm, caught up in the feeling of pleasure. The conversation was a divided distraction, meeting them, mainly Jordan, from breaking first and cumming, ruining their match.
And another distraction came when both of their phones chimed. Tyriq’s brows furrowed, knowing he and Jordan only had their notifications on for one thing.
He pressed the news notification, which opened his phone and sent him to a video that was going crazy viral.
It was a video of a chrome woman, standing completely still as a car rammed into her. She maneuvered the car like it was nothing, letting it drop from her hands. She was then moving at unimaginable speeds, tying the men up before she flying off with the truck in hand. They were mainly clips, some shaky and grainy displays of what she could do.
Once the videos ended, he caught a few comments on the screen, as well as the likes and views, which was millions upon millions each. He blinked, brows furrowed as he watched the video play over. “Well, look at this.” He mumbled, chest heaving up and down as the blonde girl kept sucking him off. He then turned, looking over at Jordan, who had their phone in hand as they continued with business.
They looked over at him, sharing the same expression once again. One that was full of curiosity but also something deeper they didn’t share. Jordan with a seething irritation while Tyriq seemed deeply intrigued as he eyed the silver woman.
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 - Two loners find unexpected connection after a party neither of them wanted to be at.
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - smut(18+), fingering, p in v, strong language, alcohol consumption, drunk state, weed consumption, cheating…and I think that should be it.
𝐉𝐚𝐳𝐳𝐢𝐞’𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 - this took longer than I wanted and it’s absolutely ass…you probably won’t get that part two that I wanted to give you. I am so sorry for any grammar mistakes or spelling errors!!!
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 - 11,996
𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 - ᯓ★
It was a campus party, the frat hour alive with usual fever. Bass rattled the drywall of the old home, and every beat thrummed through the hardwood floors that were littered and sticky with red solo cups. Shouts and laughter echoed down the narrow halls that carried the scent of warm beer breath, sweat, and weed smoke. Along with the usual reek of cheap cologne and fruit-flavored vape clouds.
There were others rapping along to the track blaring from the speakers, their voices slurred and off-key. And a group of girls were dancing on a dining table. Something you really on see in movies, but it seemed to be the norm at PWI’s. At least, that’s what Joie thought.
It was a typical campus party, only way much more than what she usually tolerated.
Joie sat curled on the steps of the frat house staircase, body angled away from the press of bodies moving up and down. A half-empty cup of neon-red alcohol drink that the boys called ‘jungle juice’ sweated between her hands, condensation dampening her fingers. Her cheek sunk into the palm of her other hand, eyes half-lidded, only one thing in her mind. A blunt. She wanted a blunt so badly. The sugary alcohol in her cup wasn’t cutting it, only coating her tongue in syrupy sweetness and reminding her how sober she still was.
Her friends flanked her, Camille leaned against the wall on the landing above her, cup balanced carelessly in one hand as she spoke aimlessly, and Toya, who stood posted against the outside of the rail banister, body angled so she could still survey the traffic of partygoers moving past her. The two carried on, voices layered over the noise of the house.
“And when I called her, she wouldn’t answer the phone. How the fuck did this become a ‘me’ problem.” Camille was already mid-rant, words spilling out fast and sharp. “She cheated?!” She gestured wildly with her free hand, almost sloshing her drink onto the stairs. She shook her head in disbelief, the retelling of the story of her most recent fling pissing her off all the way over again.
Toya barely blinked. “I told you to leave that white girl alone.” She mumbled, her tone steady, almost bored, as if she’d repeated the advice so many times.
“T, she’s not just some white girl.” Camille groaned. “I’ve know her for, like, two years.” She said, and her lightly slurred tone alerted the pair that the girl was tipsy. “And I’ve told you to stop saying that, you come off as racist.”
“That’s literally her name on instagram…” Toya muttered before rolling her eyes at the girl. “Which makes you even more pathetic.” She shot back flatly before moving to take a slow sip of her drink, narrowing her eyes over the rim. “Down bad over a girl that you don’t even really like that much? And have been on and off with since senior year of high school? Come on.” She said before taking a swig of her drink.
Camille scoffed defensively her words. “And you get no play.” She sassed, tilting her head with a slight smirk. “Damn, T, you didn’t even smash that fine ass nupe that’s been trying to talk to you for weeks now.”
“Uh, cause frats boys all have STD’s.” The girl scoffed, her disgust so sharp it cut through the fog of liquor in her voice before looking between her two friends. “Which is totally fine if it’s disclosed before hand. But I’ll never forget the incident of 2017.” She said.
Camille made a face, nose wrinkling. Then her gaze slid downward, toward the quiet figure on the steps. “What’s worse Joie? Getting absolutely no play—“
“Or being down bad for a piece of shit?” Toya finished for her, biting into the last word with a grin.
casing Camille to throw middle finger at her, while Toya stuck out her tongue. Camille barked a laugh, flipping Toya off, and Toya only stuck her tongue out in return.
When they got no reply, the looked down at the girl, whose gaze was far away, cheek smushed against her hand and not so much as a smirk on her face. “Joie?” Camille asked.
No response.
She tilted her head toward her friend. Joie hadn’t moved, still slumped against her hand, eyes fixed somewhere far away. She flicked her gaze to Toya, who had already straightened, brows pinched. “Is she high?” Toya asked. She leaned down, waving a hand exaggeratedly in front of Joie’s face. “Are you high?” Toya asked before waving her hand in her friend’s face. Joie flinched back, blinking out of her daze. “No.” He muttered, voice low and tired. “But I need to be.”
“Oh, come on.” Camille groaned, looking down at the girl. “Don’t tell me you’re still bummed out about earlier.” The girl said.
“Yes, Camille.” Joie snapped, lifting her head from her hand, the sharpness in her tone catching both of them off guard. “I’m still bummed out about earlier. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Because your parents are still paying for college.” Camille said, shrugging as if she was pointing out the obvious. “It’s not like they disowned you. Don’t let such a petty argument ruin your time at a party, Joe.” She shrugged, and her words caused the girl sitting on the to look up at her, irritation flickering in her eyes.
“Yeah, Camille, let me just forget the fact that my parents don’t care that I plan to take what I want to do with my life seriously, with or without them, and the fact that they care more about if I’ll marry the guy on the football team who has the chance of going to the league.” She hissed, her voice rising just enough to break through the music as she pushed up from the stair, the plastic cup tilting precariously in her grip.
The words burned hot in her throat. She didn’t wait for Camille to answer. “I didn’t even want to come to this fucking party.” She spat, and then she was moving down the steps, past the bodies and gone before either of her friends could stop her.
“Wait, Joie—” Camille’s voice chased her, but the plea was weak since the girl never once looked her way. Camille slumped back against the wall. Toya cut her a look sharp enough to silence her. “You know she doesn’t like being called Joe.”
Camille’s glare snapped back in return, but Toya didn’t flinch.
Joie on the other hand, weaved through the crowded frat house, her shoulders tight and tense and her steps brisk. She ducked between bodies pressed together in dance, muttering sharp, half-hearted “excuse me”s as she went. A shoulder brushed her arm, and a stranger’s hand almost grazed her waist before she swatted it away. The crowded home was hot and suffocating, and all she wanted was to carve a hole big enough to breathe.
She was making her way to her kitchen, aiming for the lunch bowl.
When she finally slipped inside, the air was marginally clearer. A long table sagged under the weight of the glass bottles and the infamous red bowl of spiked fruit punch. She grabbed one of the disposable cups stacked on the counter and poured herself a serving of the sticky-sweet mix before then reaching for one of the bottles. She tipped it, not even bothering to measure, watching the liquor swirl and cloud into the drink until it smelled more like rubbing alcohol than fruit.
The spiked punch burned down Joie’s throat, rougher now with the extra splash she’d poured in. It made her lips purse and eyes narrow, but at least the bitter edge cut through the candy-sweet syrup of the frat-boy concoction. She leaned against the counter, cup hovering near her chest when she heard som cheers from the front of the house.
Curious, she moved over to see people surrounding some others that just came in, a group of dudes, nothing special. She turned her lip up slightly in disinterest and was about to turn away before she caught sight just the right person.
She was quick to walk over, passing by the small commotion that had caught her attention in the first place, though it was starting to break away now. She walked over to the far side of the wall, where a group of guys sat at a table. “Yo, Aiden.” She called out, coming up on them.
The brown-skinned man at the table looked up. His eyes lit, grin spreading wide as he jumped up from his chair. “Aye, Joie!” He said as he stood from his seat, bringing the girl into a hug. “Wassup?” He asked.
“Uh…” She shifted the cup in her hand, lowering her voice. “I was wondering if you got any—”
“Yo! AD!” A voice yelled from behind them. The deep tone quickly caught Aiden’s attention, causing the man to look up, excitement crossing his face. “Cam! My boy!” He yelled, and Joie moved out of the way and watched as the two dapped up, speaking to one another.
“How you doin’ man? What are you doing here?” The tall stranger asked Aiden, pulling away from the bro hug.
“Bruh, you know I’m here for the game.” Aiden chuckled, clapping him on the shoulder. “Had to come see you in action playboy.” He grinned.
The taller male seemed suspicious, giving him a narrow-eyed squint, suspicion cutting through the grin. “You bet money, didn’t you?”
“Hell yea.” Aiden said easily with a nod, the word rolling out with no shame. The other guy chuckled as well, while Joie just stood there, pursing her lips. “I told you about that man, you gone get caught up.” He said, punting at Aiden, who smacked his lips, waving him off. “Man, whatever. I’m making money off yo’ ass.”
“And I meant.” The tall one pressed, tilting his head. “Why are you on campus? You don’t even go to college, man.”
That snagged Joie’s attention. Her eyes narrowed. She’d seen Aiden around her campus plenty of time, enough that she’d just assumed he went there, like anyone would. And she thought he was just here at this party before the big game tomorrow, like everyone else.
Hearing it flat like that unsettled something.
“To sell these eligible students some of my product.” He replied smoothly, an easy grin in his lips. The words must’ve jogged something in his head, because he suddenly looked back at Joie, who had been waiting with her free hand shoved deep in her pockets, watching the two. “Oh, shit.” The man chuckled, stepping over to the girl and throwing an arm around her shoulder. “Joie, this is Thee Cameron Cade.” He introduced the tall light skinned man.
“What’s up.” Joie said, nodding her head up at the man, her dull tone showing her disinterest.
“And Cam, this is my homegirl Frankie Joie Parker.” Aiden said, ignoring the glare of disgust the girl sent him at the use of her full name. “One of my clients.” His arm tightened around her in a mock embrace, nearly knocking her cup from her hand. Joie groaned before pushing against him. “Stop.” She hissed, twisting out of his grip. “You’re gonna make me waste my drink.” She said, steadying her cup,
“Hey.” Cameron responded, his eyes giving her a quick once over, while Joie simply hummed before fully pulling herself from Aiden’s grip to look at him. “So, you got any for me?”
“I got everything you need, baby.” He smirked before licking his lips, causing Joie to scoff as she rolled her eyes while Cameron eyed the pair.
“What kind of stuff are you selling here, AD?” He questioned, and Joie glanced at him to see his eyes already on her with a curious glint, while she sipped at her drink. “I said ‘everything you need’. You didn’t hear me?” Aiden said before moving to the table, digging into the bag slouched in the empty chair beside him. “Come on, man, take a seat.” He said, gesturing the man to sit down at the crowded and loud table of the party, which Cameron did while Aiden rummaged through his bag. “I got uppers, downers, pain pills, shrooms, and mary J. Whatever you want.” He listed. When he looked up, Cameron’s eyes landed back on Joie, who was downing the rest of her cup, starting to feel the buzz of the alcohol getting to her.
He looked her up and down, taking in her frame, relaxed though there was still an underlying tension to her. She was dressed in a long sleeve, over sized striped Polo shirt with baggy jeans and timbs.
He wouldn’t say she seemed like the type to do hard drugs, but honestly, the whole drug thing was new to him since starting college, especially with going to a PWI. So his naïveté when addressing the situation was warranted.
“You want anything?” Aiden asked him, snapping him out of his thoughts. Joie lifted her brows, disbelief flashing over her face, while Cameron looked over before shaking his head. “Oh, nah, man. I’m good.” He chuckled lightly, almost awkward.
“Come on, man. It’s not like you gotta worry about getting tested or anything. You’re Cameron Cade. You’re him.” The boy gushed, and Joie wanted to roll her eyes at the dick riding he was doing to this random ass man.
“Right, Joe?” Aiden asked.
Her face twisted instantly. “No. Not right, I don’t know this nigga.” Joie stated, brows scrunched as she eyed the pair. Cameron looked over at her at that, a flicker of disbelief crossing his expression.
“What?” Aiden asked, scrunching his face up at her.
“You don’t know who I am?” Cameron’s asked, almost incredulous. Joie leveled him with a glare, irritation finally sparking through the alcohol haze. “No, I don’t. And I really don’t give a fuck.” The girl said before slamming her empty plastic cup down on the table. “I just wanted to see if I could buy some weed off this dumbass.” She spat and was about to walk away from them and back into the commotion of the party when she overheard Cameron’s voice.
“Dude, it’s that some fein or something?” He asked, and Joie’s head snapped back towards him. She stalked back, planting herself in front of him, gaze hot enough to burn through skin. “No, I’m not a fucking feen, you jackass. I just wanted to buy some fucking weed and I’m on my third fucking drink of the night, but this bitch—“ she jabbed a finger at Aiden—“wanted to kiss your light-skinned ass before he could make some money.” She spat, and though the noise of the house didn’t die, but the table did. Conversations dulled, ears tilting toward the sharp crackle of her voice.
Cameron sat back, stunned, watching her lips curl into a mocking pout.
“And I’m not sorry if the way I talk —what is it? Prince of the Halfrican Americans? Cade Cameron or whoever the fuck you are, just hurt your feelings. Man up and get over it.” She finished before walking off again, and both Aiden and Cameron were left there in shock.
A few tense moments passed between them. Aiden then cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. “I probably shouldn’ta called her Joe.” He muttered. “She hates that shit.” Cameron stared at him, bewilderment etched across his face. He scoffed softly, pushing himself up from the chair.
“Yo, where you going?” Aiden asked.
“To get some air, it’s stuffy as hell in here.” The young man called over his shoulder, never once looking back at his old friend.
⟡ ⟡
Joie didn’t know how she’d drifted back into the kitchen.
One second, her thoughts were somewhere far off — blurred and tangled together — and the next, she was staring at the half-empty punch bowl again, like it had all the answers to her problem of the night. It was the quietest place in the house party, which was odd considering this is where most of the drinks reside.
The girl let out a sigh as she rubbed at the edge of her slick-back ponytail, scratching lightly at her scalp where the hairstyle had started to feel too tight. It was giving her a migraine. Well, either that or the alcohol.
And that’s when she saw him.
She was stunned to see the sight of her boyfriend, standing against the counter, surrounded by a handful of his boys and a few girls Joie didn’t know. “Damien.” She sighed. She pushed herself away from the doorway and crossed the space between them.
His head lifted at the sound of his name, a grin blooming instantly across his face. “Joie.” He said, drawing her in with open arms. His scent — cologne mixed with a faint trace of Hennessy — hit her before his body did. “Where you been at?” He asked, his arm snaking around her shoulder.
She leaned into him, pressing her cheek to his chest. “Getting my nerves worked by everybody.” She mumbled, her eyes closed as she took in his warmth. “Where have you been?” She asked, pulling away to look up at him, resting the back of her head against the arm around her.
He shrugged. “I’ve just been chilling with the guys, seeing what PWI campus life was like.” He shrugged, licking his lips as he looked down at her. “It ain’t got shit on HBCU life, I’ll tell you that.”
Joie laughed softly, a tired, knowing sound. “Oh, trust me, I know.” They looked at each other then — really looked — and for a brief, fragile moment, it was like the world slowed down. The pair got caught in each other’s eyes. The noise, the crowd, the tension from earlier that day — it all melted in the warmth of his gaze.
As their gazes prolonged, Joie was the first to crack, lips curving into a small smile, the first one of the day.
Deon’s eyes snapped down to her lips briefly just as a smile graced his. He leaned in, placing a kiss on her lips. Joie kissed back, but let out a small giggle at the feeling of his bicep tightening around her head. Deon kept kissing her, chucking himself with his lips pressed against her.
“Aww! How cute!” A voice sliced through the moment, causing the pair to pull apart. They looked over to see some of their friends looking at them. The person who spoke was Lauren, one of Jontae’s consistent flings, who stood by the island with a drink in hand “I wish I had a relationship like y’all’s.” She finished, and the said boy, who she was standing next to, smacked his lips as he looked down at her. “Really?” Jontae asked, cutting his eyes down to the girl.
“What?” Lauren shot back. “I can’t speak now?”She hissed, turning her lip up at the football player. Jontae groaned at that, and as the couple were about to start their usual bickering match, Deon turned his attention back to Joie, shaking his head in amusement. He shifted, placing his body between her and the counter, boxing her in gently. His hand slipped down to her waist, his eyes soft but curious. “Speaking of cute.” He started, looking down at the girl as she raised her arms to wrap them around his neck. “Did you talk to your parents?” He asked.
Joie let out a small sigh as she brushed her fingers against his waves. “Yeah.” She admitted.
“And what did they say?”
“I don’t really wanna talk about this right now, Deon.”She said, bringing her arms from around his neck to cross them under her chest.
“Oh, come one, Joe.” The man urged. “I wanna know what they said. My parents said they talked and had some sort of surprise for us.”
“I told you about calling me Joe.” Her voice was sharp, her eyes snapping up to meet his as she pointed at him. “Don’t.” She said firmly, but Deon wasn’t phased by her attitude, moving her band from his face. “And I said I don’t wanna talk about it.” She pressed, her voice low now, anger simmering. “Some stupid surprise — there isn’t one. Just some-some sick fucking game they’re playing.” She hissed, muttering to herself.
“It can’t be that bad.” He said, trying for calm but clearly irritated. “Just tell me.” Deon urged, but Joie was already shaking her head as she placed her arms on his shoulder. “No, let’s not talk about that. You know what we should talk about?”
He frowned. “Don’t change the subject.”
“Let’s talk about how my audition.” That caused Deon’s face to morph into one of confusion. “What? Audition? What audition?” Joie deflated a bit, looking her boyfriend in the eye. “That studio audition I told you about? The one where I had send a few of my beats to the producer and then make one up on the spot.”
“Oh, you were serious about that?” Deon asked with a careless chuckle. Now Joie was beginning to get pissed off. Her throat tightened, her chest burning in a way that had nothing to do with alcohol now. She slightly squinted her eyes at him, ignoring the ache in her chest at his words. “Yes, I was serious about that, Deon. Why wouldn’t I be?” She asked, and her irritation must’ve been apparent because the man stood to his full height, letting out a small sigh. “I didn’t mean it that way, Joie.”
“How else did you mean it?” Her voice cracked slightly, anger fighting with hurt. “You are just like my fucking parents bro, always saying slick shit about the things that I like. That matters to me.” She spat, frowning up at him.
“I wasn’t trying to be slick, Joie, but you barely even talk to me about your music. How the hell was I supposed to know you were taking it serious?” Deon asked, his voice matching hers in a raised and irritated tone as she scrunched his face up at her.
“I don’t say anything because of the shit everyone has to say about it.” Joie snapped. “Nobody takes it seriously, like it’s not real life or something. All everyone wants to know about is cheer, and marriage and—“
“Marriage?” Deon cut in, holding a hand out to stop the girl. “Who the hell is talking about marriage?” Joie paused, staring up at him, disbelief dripping from her voice. “Really? That’s all you got from that?”
“No, Joie, but that seems like a pretty big fucking deal—“
“You know what?” She said, clapping her hands together once. “I don’t really give a fuck anymore. I don’t care. I don’t wanna talk. talk. You wanna talk about marriage? Ask your parents — since they seem to care just as much as you do.” She hissed, staring him in the eye. “Better yet, ask my parents because that’s all they seem to give a fuck about as well.” She didn’t waste anytime after that to walk off, ignoring the boys calls for her.
“Joie.” Deon called out, but the girl moved around him. “Joie, come on, bro.” He watched as the girl grabbed a bottle from the liquor table, still not looking his way. She was on her way out before coming back to grab another. “Joe!”
Joie ignored all his calls as she walked around the house, looking for the sight of any door to go through. She didn’t know this house, she was damn near an hour out of town on a PWI campus in some frat house, she was totally out of her element. Her fingers were trembling, but she wasn’t sure if it was from anger or something closer to heartbreak.
She uncapped a bottle, Bacardi, just as she found a door to break out of the house.
Outside, the chill of Texas autumn wrapped around her, crisp and biting. She exhaled, the sound shaky, before lifting the Bacardi to her lips. Three gulps in and her throat burned like fire, tears stinging her eyes.
Her chest heaved as she released the bottle from her lips, eyes locked on what looked to be the backyard. There was nothing much, a small patch of grass with a trampoline and a grill. Above, the sky stretched wide and black, the stars barely visible through the drifting clouds.
She didn’t even care to screw the cap back on the bottle of alcohol as she moved to take a seat on the porch steps. She sniffed before swiping at her nose with the sleeve of her shirt, then raising the bottle to her lips again.
“Let me guess,” A voice spoke up behind her.
Joie jumped, choking mid-sip, coughing as the alcohol scorched her throat.
“Bad day?” The voice finished.
She looked over her shoulder with a squint. Cameron sat on the porch at the small table to the left, in the far corner of the home. He was giving her a soft wince, a cloud of smoke leaving his lips as he drew the blunt away.
Joie looked at him for a bit, still startled at his sudden appearance, but concluded that he must’ve been there already and she simply didn’t see him, too caught up in her own turmoil.
“You don’t even know.” The girl sighed after a beat, looking back forward, her eyes moving to the lone trampoline in the corner of the yard.
Cameron exhaled slowly, smoke unfurling between them. “Trust me.” He said, the corner of his mouth twitching. “I do. More than anyone.”
Silence settled again, but not an uncomfortable one. They both just sat there, taking in the silence that lingered. The sound of the party still loud, but was muffled due to them being outside. There was the sound of the wind blowing, the swaying the tall trees. The was soft chatter of people talking coming from the front yard and other surrounding areas. Somewhere nearby, a dog barked, and then someone screamed — a playful, drunken shriek that dissolved into giggles.
They took it all in, watching the night sky as the clouds moved slowly, giving glimpses at the stars underneath. All while the smell of marijuana lingered and the sound of liquid splashing in a glass bottle filled the silence as well.
Joie was just brining the bottle down from her lips, really indulged in enough alcohol to last her two weeks, before looking back at him.
“You got some more of that?” She asked, nodding to the blunt in his hands.
Cameron looked at her just as he blew smoke from his lips, the thick vapor clouding their vision of one another before the breeze swept it away. “Yeah.” He said before digging into the pocket of his hoodie and pulling out a decently sized sack, placing it on the table.
“Oh, thank goodness.” Joie laugh softly, feeling the effects of the alcohol in her system She stood — or tried to — stumbling a little before catching herself on the porch rail. She then walked over to the table, picking up at the bag. “Can I get a blunt out of this? I’ll pay you, dude.”
“Be my guest.”Cameron said, shrugging lazily, his laughter quiet and genuine. Joie chuckled as well, and watched as he pulled out another cigar and placed it on the table. She joined him at the table, the metal chair scraping against the wood as she sat. Her hands were clumsy, fingers tracing the smooth edge of the cigar wrapper he’d set down. Then, suddenly, an idea sparked across her face.
She paused, snapping her head to him. Cameron eyed her, squinting through the smoke. “You got a car?” She asked, tilting her head at him.
He blinked, cautious. “Yeah.” He nodded.
Joie stood up, the edgy metal chair scrapping against the wooden porch before she walked back over to the steps, picking up the two bottles of alcohol. “I got Bacardi and Don Julio.” She said, holding them up. “You wanna hot box?”
Cameron leaned back in his chair, buzzed from the blunt that was starting to die out in his hands and watching that wild glint in her eyes. He let the smoke curl from his lips in a thin stream before replying, a slow smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He then chuckled, the sound coming from deep within his chest. “Hell yeah.” He grinned, and Joie gave him a dazed one to match before nodding her head over to the back door of the house.
Cameron stood up, pocketing the weed and cigar paper with his blunt in between his lips. He shook his head before Joie could walk through the house again. “This way.” He said, nodding his head over to the wooden fence that kept the yard enclosed. Joie furrowed her brows, walking after him, the porch squeaking under their shared weight.
“You parked back here?” She asked, following him through the grass until they made it to the fence door. He held the fence door open for her before closing it behind her, while Joie stood to the side, looking at his relatively expensive car. “What are you, some celebrity?” She asked, her giggle slurring as she looked at him.
“To some people.” He shrugged, before nodding his head over to the passenger side of matte grey Audi convertible.
Joie let out a small whistle as she walked around. “This shit is nice.” She complimented him, opening the door. “Feels wrong to even light up in here.” She said, and Cameron chuckled at that as he ducked into the car as well.
“Are you even allowed to park here?” Joie questioned, squinting her eyes over to him, and even though she felt like she was talking way more than she’s used to, she simply had to blame the alcohol. She couldn’t stop herself from saying the first thing to come to mind. “The frat bros don’t mind?” She asked.
Cameron then scoffed. “No. I live here.” Joie’s head snapped over to him at that as he continued. “Well, used to.” He shrugged.
“Wait, you pledge?” Joie asked as Cameron started the car, hooking his phone up to the radio. “Yeah.” He replied. “Alpha Phi Alpha.”
“Oh!” Joie giggled, looking over at him. “You’re an Ape?”
“Yeah. Something wrong with that?” Cameron asked, glancing over at her with a slight furrow in his brow, beginning to pull the products from his pockets to roll up.
Joie was quick to shake her head, leaning back in her seat. “No, not at all. I didn’t take you for one at first but now it makes sense.” She muttered with a shrug before looking down at her hands.
“What’s that supped to mean?”
“I’m an AKA.” She suddenly stated, and it was Cameron’s turn for his eyes to widen. He glanced away from his lap, eyes giving her a quick once over. “You’re an AKA?”
“Yeah.” Joie nodded.
Cameron scoffed, letting out a laugh as he put out the roach of the blunt in the car ashtray. “Now that, I didn’t expect.” He chuckled. Joie jerked her head back at him, brows raised. “And what is that supposed to mean?”
“You just don’t give AKA.” He said with a shrug. She hummed at that, leaning back in her seat. Her mood seemed to shift, her eyes moving to the watch skk out the window. She let out a small sigh, then. “Yeah, I get that.” She mumbled.
There was a pause between them before she became aware of the weight of the bottles in her hands. She glanced down at the alcohol before raising the Bacardi bottle to her lips, taking a sip.
Cameron eyed her, a twinge of smoke filling the car from his previous blunt. “What you mean?” He asked, still focused on the blunt he was rolling. He brought the cigar paper to his lips, wetting it with his tongue to get it to stick.
Joie glanced over at his question—but her eyes dropped to his lips. And something twisted deep within her at the sight of his tongue.
Her lids then fluttered to snap herself out of her fleeting thoughts, looking away from him. “I mean that I get it.” She shrugged, leaning further into her seat. “I get why I don’t seem like an AKA. I get why people have questions…I think.” She began unsurely, her grip tightening around the bottle. “I get that I don’t fit peoples expectations.” She ended with a mumble.
It went quiet again. Cameron paused his rolling to look at the side of her face. She was staring out the window at the trees that swayed under the cool autumn wind, the sky growing darker as night consumed them.
“I didn’t mean it in that way,” he said softly, causing her to turn her head. His focus was back on the blunt he was finishing. “I meant it in that you seem like the type to take no bullshit.” He said, looking back over at her. “I can’t see you going through the process to join a sorority. Hazing and whatnot. You’re too headstrong for that.”
They stared at one another, Joie taking in his words while he waited for her reaction. She then blinked, a slight furrow in her brows. “I don’t know if that a compliment or not but…I’ll take it as an apology.” She said as she blinked slowly at him.
“Apology? Apology for what?” He scoffed with a laugh.
“For pissing me off earlier.”
“Oh, so it’s my fault that I pissed you off, which caused you to snap at me? A dude you don’t even know?”He said sarcastically, placing a hand in his chest.
“Yes, exactly.” Joie grinned, nodding at him. “Now are we going light this hoe up or what? My soberness is coming back.” She said before a soft burp escaped her lips, let out a soft burp, that was more of a hiccup. She bought her fingers to her lips mumbling a small “Sorry.” as she abided eye contact.
Cameron didn’t say anything else after that, simply shaking his head with a chuckle and a small smile in his face at the adorable moment before lighting the blunt. He inhaled deeply before handing the blunt over, which Joie took with glee.
She brought the blunt up to her lips as she handed over the bottle, which Cameron took. But as soon as the glass was out of her hands, he watched as the girl began to turn in his seat. He took a shot, watching the girl in confusion as she climbed into his backseat.
“Don’t be messing up my seats with your shoes.” He mumbled, looking at the girls backside before she placed it in his backseat seat. “Sorry.” She mumbled, kicking off her shoes onto the back seat floor.
“What are you even doing?” Cameron asked, looking back at her and taking the blunt she was holding out. He tried to hand back the bottle, but she shook her head. “It’s a hotbox, the point is to be comfortable.” She said, her figure relaxed in his back seat.
“No it’s not.” Cameron laughed.
“Okay, fine.” Joie groaned. “It’s my first hot box, indulge me a little.” She shrugged. He looked back at her, the blunt hanging loosely from his lips, which he leaned forward and plucked away. “Come on.” She urged when she saw he wasn’t moving, waving him over. All while Cameron was still stunned at her bold actions.
She simply puffed on the blunt, the car already becoming foggy with smoke.
He then let out a small sigh, about to open the door before Joie’s sharp voice cut him off. “Uh uh!” She said, leaning forward. “We already started, you gotta crawl back here.”
“Crawl?!” He asked, looking back at her as if she was crazy. “Girl, I am 6’4, I can’t do that!”
“Well you have too.” She added. “Now crawl you big ass back here.” And for some reason, Cameron did what she said. He let out one last sigh before trying to crawl into the back seat. It didn’t go without a struggle, him telling the girl to let the seat up and to help him, which Joie did to the best of her ability.
The high must’ve been getting to them already because they were in fits of giggles halfway through. And with some fumbling, laughter, and the occasional command from Joie, Cameron finally managed to squeeze into the back seat beside her.
They spent what felt like hours passing the blunt, talking about everything and nothing, trading bottles, and laughing until their cheeks hurt. All as the car grew thick with smoke and an underlying tension. They were way more comfortable than before, the front seats down and up so they had more space to move about and chill in the back. There was the occasional brush against each other, ones that had the other staring for a bit, see if they were the only one to notice. There was the long paused when they looked each other in the eye, only broken by the waves of smoke that swam between them.
It was all broken when Cameron reached for his phone when it pinged from its place on the middle console. And his mood dipped at the sight of his brother name, talking to him about the same ole subject. Football.
He huffed, leaning back in his seat, simply staring down at the text, which caused him not to see Joie holding the blunt out to him. “What’s up with you?” She asked, snapping Cameron out of his thoughts.
He placed his phone down on his lap, taking the blunt. “My brother.” He sighed. “Hell, my fucking family, friends, people I don’t even know.” He inhaled the blunt, holding the smoke for a bit before letting it blow out in thick curls. Joie eyes trailed his face then, taking in the angle of his sharp jaw and his tan skin that grew blonde stubble on his chin. “It seems the only thing they care about is football.” He mumbled, smoke blowing from his lips, and Joie gulped at the sight.
She was so caught up in the sight of him, that all she could ask was. “You play football?”
Cameron looked over at her, nodding his head as he handed her the blunt. Joie hummed with a nod, taking the blunt from him. “What’s so bad about people caring about that? I mean, shouldn’t football be your life?” She asked before puffing on the blunt.
“It is.” Cameron said. “That’s the problem. I have people constantly hounding me about it, asking me questions, pressuring me. Things I do to myself already. Their expectations…weigh on me.” He explained, and Joie couldn’t help but agree, nodding her head, though she wasn’t sure he could see her as the smoke in the car got thicker and thicker with each blow. “I get that.” She said before holding the blunt between her lips.
Cameron wasn’t paying attention at first, until he saw the girl lean forward and began to come out of her long sleeve. She brought the shirt over her head, making sure to not bend the blunt, which gave Cameron view to the rest of her. She wore a tight tank top, and now showed way more skin than before. Cameron felt like some Victorian man the way his breathe caught in his throat at they sight of her skin. He cleared his throat softly before reaching to the bottom of the car floor, grabbing the bottle of Don Julio and taking a shot. He hissed slightly at the burn before looking back at the girl, eyes racking her figure.
She had tattoos, small pretty ones that littered her skin in perfect places, almost like she was born with them. She placed her shirt down haphazardly before relaxing back into the seat. “My folks are the same.” She continued. “It’s all about what they want, how they want me to be. One expectation after another. It’s all so…much.” She said, leaning further into the seat, bringing her sock cladded feet to rest upon the leather seats.
“What do you do?” He asked, and Joie was about to answer him before she paused at the sight of him leaning towards her. Her breath caught and her eyes never left him as he reached over to pull the blunt from her lips, just has she did to him earlier. The tips of his fingers brushed her lips softly, which caused the girls breath to shutter.
She cleared her throat softly as she adjusted herself in the seat, almost placing her feet in his lap due to how close they were.
“Did you hear me?” Cameron asked, snapping Joie out of her running thoughts. She blinked, looking up at him. He was leaned back in the corner, one arm spread out over the seats head while the other rested on the door, holding the blunt. His head was leaned back, but his gaze was one her. “Huh?” Joie muttered.
“What do you do?” He repeated, a small smile smirk hugging at his lips. Joie blinked before registering the conversation that they were having. “Oh! Uh, I dance. Nothing major.” She shrugged.
“Is that what you want to do?” He asked, eyeing her through the smoke.
“I mean, I like it.” Joie shrugged again, letting out a small awkward laugh. “It’s fun and I’m good at it.”
“But is that what you want to do?” He pressed, voice firmer. His gaze cut through the haze, his stare intense. And Joie couldn’t help but get lost in the beautiful green color. The smoke around them curled in thick ropes as they gazed at one another, eyes trailing each others features. Joie leaned her head against the seat in slight bashfulness as heat crept up her face. “Not really.” She muttered, looking down at her hands.
“Well, then what do you want to do?” Cameron asked, and as conversation progressed, he got more and more comfortable in the car, so much to the point that he pulled her feet into his lap. Joie’s inebriated state couldn’t fight her smile that merged into a laugh at the feeling of his fingers on her feet. She tried her best to hide it.
“Uh, I want to do music.” She admitted. She didn’t know why she said it, she rarely talks about it to anyone, let alone someone who was practically a stranger. But like anything else that’ll happen tonight, she’ll just blame it on the alcohol.
“Music?” Cameron echoed, causing Joie to nod. “Yeah.” She said softly.
“Wait, you can sing? Sing something for me.”
“What? No!” Joie laughed, nudging him with her foot. Cameron smacked his lips before chuckling. “Come on.” He urged, nudging at her feet back, which caused her to let out sharp giggle. “Stop, I’m really ticklish.” She laughed, nudging at him with her foot again. “And I will not sing for you. I…have never sung for anyone before.” She admitted bashfully, looking down at her hands. Cameron took one more puff from the blunt before handing it over.
“What? Why?” He asked, and Joie shrugged when she brought the dying blunt to her lips. “How are you gonna do music if you’ve never sung in front of anyone before?”
“Who said I wanted to sing?” Joie quipped, arching a brow at him.
“Do you sing?” Cameron was quick to retort. “Can you sing?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, then, like I thought.” He mumbled firmly, still snoring as he reached over and plucked the blunt from her hands. “Now, back to you singing me something.”
“I’m not singing for you.” She said through laughter, shaking her head.
“I like r&b but I’m in more of a pop mood right now. You know Katy Perry?” He said, and Joie knew he was joking by the smile he couldn’t hide in his inebriated state. She scoffed at him, letting out a small snort. “Boy, please.” She laughed, throwing her head back, causing him to do the same.
She then reached down to the seat floor for a bottle, the car dark and thick with smoke, so she couldn’t see well. Her hand hit glass and she didn’t think twice before grabbing it and pulling it up. But to her surprise it was not a bottle of tequila. It was an a clear glass vase like thing.
“What the hell is this?” Joie asked, holding the glass up as she eyed it in confusion. Cameron looked at what he held in her hands, letting out a small laugh. “Some weird sex toy?” She added, which then caused the boy to choke out a cough, waving smoke from his face.
“No! It is not some weird sex toy!” He said, reaching over to take the thing from her hands.
“Then what is it?”
“It’s a bong.”
“Oh hell nah.” She said, shaking her head. “What?” Cameron asked with furrowed brows, looking over at her. “Mnm hm. That’s white people shit.” She said, causing the boys face to drop as he smacked his lips. “Bro, stop.”
“It is!” Joie said. “I mean, look at it. It looks like a big crack pipe.”
“Crack affected the black community the most.” Cameron stated, quirking a brow at her.
“Yeah, but who put it there?” The girl retorted, crossing her arms as she tilted her head at him. Cameron just shook his head before pushing her legs from his lap. “Hey.” Joie protested softly with a small pout.
“Try it.” Cameron offered, holding the glass out.
“Nuh uh.” She instantly shook her head.
“Come on, Joie.”
“No.”
“It’s not bad.” He urged. “I know it looks intimidating, but it’s actually real affective. Some of my best highs.” There was a pause between them, the girl eyeing him suspiciously from the corner she tucked herself into to get away from the odd contraption he had in his hands. Cameron sent her a boxy grin, flashing all of his teeth at her.
She then let out a small sigh. “Fine, but you’ll have to show me how.” She said, causing his grin to widen. “Of course.” He grinned. “Now reach into the front seat and grab be that half empty water bottle.” His demand left no room for protest, which would have gotten him a mouthful from the girl any other time, but she simply moved to lean over the middle console, searching for a water bottle. “Where is it?” She asked, looking around, all while Cameron eyed her bottom in her jeans.
She had a bit of a whale tale situation going on, her leopard print underwear peeking from the top of her jeans. He also noticed the dermal piercings she had, which fit perfectly into her sexy back dimples. He licked his lips at the sight, eyeing her behind. “Cameron?” She asked.
“Uh, try the passenger side door.” He answered nervously, snapping out of his thoughts as he scratched at the back of his neck. Joie soon came back into her seat with the bottle on her hands. She handed it over to him, watching as he got everything situated.
Cameron took the water bottle from Joie, his fingers brushing against hers, causing a slight spark to ignite with their touch. He cleared his throat and began to explain, his voice low and gentle in the smoky car. "Okay, first, you need to pour some water into the bong. Not too much, just enough to cover the bottom of the bowl." He poured a small amount of water into the base, the sound of the liquid hitting the glass creating a soothing rhythm.
"Then you take the weed and put a small amount into the bowl. Not too much, or it'll be too harsh." He demonstrated, his fingers deftly handling the herb. Joie watched him intently, her eyes following his every movement. She mimicked his actions when he handed the glass over, her hands trembling slightly as she placed the weed into the bowl.
"Good.” He murmured, his eyes meeting hers. "Now, you need to pack it down gently. Just enough to keep it in place." He showed her how to use her thumb to press the weed down, his movements slow and deliberate. Joie followed suit, her fingers brushing against the glass, leaving a slight smudge.
Cameron scooted closer and reached over, causing her to eye the side of his face as his hand covered hers as he guided her movements. "That's perfect.” He whispered, his voice sending shivers down her spine. "Now, you need to light it. Hold the flame to the weed, but don't inhale just yet. Let it burn for a few seconds."
Joie did as he instructed, the flickering flame casting a warm glow on their faces. Cameron watched her, his eyes moving between her hands and face, his expression soft and encouraging. "Now, cover the carb with your thumb and inhale slowly. Fill your lungs completely."
She took a deep breath, the smoke filling her lungs. But she was soon coughing slightly, her eyes watering. “What the fuck.” She wheezed, causing Cameron to chuckle, a warm sound that wrapped spread through her. "It's okay, that happens. Just hold it for a few seconds and then exhale slowly." He instructed, but before the girl could even go again, he scooted even closer to her. “Here, let me show you.” He said.
He then wrapped his arms around Joie, pulling her close as he guided her through the process of using the bong. His touch was gentle yet firm, his breath warm against her ear as he murmured instructions. Joie subconsciously leaned into him, her body fitting perfectly against his, the smoke swirling around them like a misty veil.
"Like this.” Cameron whispered, his hands moving hers to pack the bowl just right. His fingers brushed against hers, sending sparks of electricity through her veins, which caused Joie's breath hitch. "Now, light it.” He instructed, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through her. Joie reached for the lighter, her hands trembling slightly. Her heart was thumping in her chest at the feeling of him against her, his skin rubbing against hers with each movement. Cameron's hand covered hers, steadying her as he guided the flame to the bowl. The weed caught, the smell of it mingling with the scent of their combined arousal.
“Go ahead.” He instructed, eyes tracing the side of her face. He watched her blink before bringing the bong to her lips, licking at his own.
Joie inhaled deeply, the smoke filling her lungs, and then exhaled slowly, watching as the cloud mixed with the fog in the car. This time was more successful, which caused her to look over at him with a proud smile. “I did it.” She grinned, her eyes flickering over his face, but his eyes were on her lips. “Yea, you did.” He mumbled, eyes flicking up to her eyes.
Cameron's hand lingered on her, moving them down from her arms to her waist, all while their eyes moved across each other’s faces. The smoke swirled around them, creating a haze that seemed to isolate them from the rest of the world. The music from the radio drowning out. The air grew thicker, charged with an unspoken tension that made their hearts race.
Cameron leaned in closer, his breath mingling with hers. "Joie.” He murmured, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down her spine. "You're…so beautiful." He whispered, gazing at her.
Joie's breath hitched, her eyes widening slightly at his words. She reached down, her hand covering his pressing it more firmly against her stomach, gripping it tightly. "Cameron.” She whispered, her voice barely audible over the soft hum of the car's radio.
He closed the distance between them without another word, his lips brushing against hers in a soft, tentative kiss. Joie responded instantly, her lips parting to allow him deeper access. Cameron's arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer, until she was nearly sitting in his lap. His other hand tangled in her hair, holding her in place as he deepened the kiss.
His arms were still around her, his hands now roaming her body, tracing the curves of her hips, the dip of her waist. Joie leaned back into him, her head resting against his shoulder, her eyes fluttering closed as she savored the feeling of his touch.
Cameron's lips moved from her to down her neck, finding the sensitive spot beneath her ear, teeth nipping gently before soothing the sting with his tongue. Joie moaned softly, her body pressing back against his, feeling the hardness of his desire through his jeans. His hands slid up her stomach, moving to cup her breasts. His thumbs brushed against her nipples through the thin fabric of her top, causing Joie to moan at the feeling.
The kiss broke briefly, the girl turning around to wrap her arms around his neck. But before she could, Cameron stopped her, taking the bong from her hands and pulling out the bowl. He haphazardly threw them to the floor of the car before bringing the girl back into his arms, putting his lips on her so aggressively that it pushed them into the corner of the car, Cameron on top of her.
His arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer, until her crotch was against his. His other hand holding the back of her head to keep her in place as he deepened the kiss.
Joie's arms snaked around his neck, her fingers tangling in the soft strands of his hair. She pressed herself against him, feeling the hard planes of his chest against her own. Cameron's hand roamed her body, tracing the curve of her hip, the dip of her waist, the swell of her breast. It was all so much, and much more intense with the buzz of weed and alcohol in their system. Joie arched into his touch, a soft moan escaping her lips.
Cameron's mouth left hers, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down her neck, and her head fell back, giving him better access. His teeth nipped hungrily at her collarbone, letting out hungry groans into her skin. Joie's hands gripped his shoulders, her nails digging into his flesh as waves of pleasure washed over her at the feeling of his tongue.
His hand slipped under her crop top, his fingers brushing against the soft skin of her stomach. She sucked in a breath, her body trembling with anticipation and need. He large hands cupped her breast, warm and rough, his callous thumbs brushing against her nipple through the thin fabric of her bra. Joie arched into his touch, a soft whimper escaping her lips. “Ah.”
Cameron's mouth captured hers again, his kiss hungry and demanding. Joie responded with equal fervor, her body pressing against his, seeking more. Cameron's hand left her breast, trailing down her stomach, slipping under the waistband of her jeans. Joie's breath hitched as his fingers brushed against the fabric of her underwear. He hummed too, feeling the warmth of her center against his hands.
Cameron's mouth left hers, his lips trailing down her neck, to her collarbone, to her breast. He pushed the fabric of her tank up, his tongue swirling all over her skin until his mouth was capturing her nipple. Joie cried out, her body arching into his touch. “Oh, Cameron.” She sighed, gripping the back of his neck. Cameron hummed against her skin as his hand left her underwear, moving to unbutton her jeans. He pushed them down, along with her underwear, until they were pooled around her ankles.
Joie's legs parted, inviting him in. Cameron's fingers brushed against her core, feeling the wetness that greeted him. “Shit.” He hissed at the feeling of her slickness on her fingers. Joie watched him through low lidded eyes, his gaze locked on her center, even when he brought his hand up to lick the slick from his fingers. Joie moaned at the sight, her hips bucking against the air.
He raised his gaze to her, slipping his finger inside her, curving to hit that sweet spot that made her see stars. Joie ground her hips slowly, making small circles while the Cameron’s fingers worked to settle her nerves. His eyes locked on her blissful figure.
She kept her mouth open to sigh and moan as she saw fit. Her nostrils flared as she tried to force herself to breathe through every peak and valley of the moment. Her brows were knitted, and her eyes closed as if she were too afraid to look at him. He couldn’t help but wonder what she was thinking as she rolled her hips into his fingers.
“You like that? Huh? Is this good, Joie?” Cameron spoke up, voice husky and raw as his eyes moved between her and what he was doing to her. Her boobs bounced in her disheveled tank top as she rocked herself against his fingers, gripping at the leather seats.
“Fuck, Cameron, don’t stop. Please don’t stop!” Joie responded, and Cameron could feel his dick jerk at her moans. “Ohh, of course, baby.” Cameron moaned, too entranced by his view of her flower on full display for his pleasure. Glistening, wet and beautiful. He pushed his other hand to thumb at her clit. Slow circles and firm pressure made her want to close her legs to escape the overwhelming stimulation, but her attempt was futile. She was at his mercy.
"Oh, god, Joie.” He whispered to himself, enamored by the way her body reacted to his touch. Joie only moaned in response, loud and drawn out. Every revolution around her clit brought more wetness to her entrance and indentations in his arms from her nails gripping for dear life.
She needed more, which caused her to grab his hoodie and pull his closer. He granted her wish, placing his lips on her in a hungry kiss as his finger went faster when her grip tightened around him. Her body trembled, shuddering too hard, arms giving way as she laid back on the leather seats.
Joie moaned, louder now, each sound spilling out without thought. Her hips moved of their own accord, grinding against his hand. He groaned every time she pulled at his hair within the kiss, his own pleasure wound tight with hers in the confines of his pants. Until his fingers pressed harder and deeper within her, curling and hitting her sweet spot every time.
"That's it...” Cameron panted into you, the filth of it muffled by his lips sucking on yours.
And then she broke.
Her climax hit sharp and hot, thighs clamping around his hand, pulsing uncontrollably as her walls spasmed around his fingers. She cried out, voice catching high and ragged as her whole body shook. He groaned into Joie’s mouth, hungry and swallowing every moan with his tongue.
After the high of her climax died down, she pushed herself up onto her elbows, chest rising and falling in uneven breaths. When her eyes met his, he smiled–crooked, and toothy his voice raw and hushed. “That shit was so fucking hot.” The words struck her, filthy and praise filled at once, and she swallowed hard, heat blooming at the base of her throat. He slid his fingers out of her with aching slowness, watching the way her body clenched around the loss. Joie’s slick coated his knuckles, dripping down his hand. He lifted one finger to his mouth again, lips closing around it with a slow, deliberate pull. His eyes fluttered as he sucked himself clean, savoring her with a moan low enough to vibrate in his chest.
The sight brought something deep from Joie, of him licking at the evidence of her arousal. A low growl escaping her lips before she reached forward, hands gripped his shoulders. Her nails dug into his flesh as waves of pleasure washed over her yet again. Joie pulled him into a sloppy kiss, their tongues moving against one another’s in a feverish heat. She the pulled him back by his shirt hair, breathing into his mouth. "Cameron.”Joie moaned, her body trembling on the edge. "Please.
Cameron wasted no time, pulling the hoodie over himself, his body shifting until he was positioned correctly between her legs. She did the same, coming out of her tank top. Freckles dusted across his collarbones and shoulders, catching the little gown of the moon that you got, and his chest was smooth, strong, the faintest taper of hair running down his sternum to the thick happy trail of his naval.
Her mouth watered as he hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his sweatpants and shoved them down in one swift movement. The elastic of his boxers followed, and then he was bare, flushed, needy, straining.
His cock slapped up against his stomach, hard and angry red at the tip. Precum beaded thickly at the slit, already running down the length in a slick trail. The base was lined with a thatch of trimmed hair. He was long and heavy, the veins running thick along his shaft, pulsing visibly as he sat there watching you drink him in.
Joie’s eye moved to his, which were already on her. Both of your gazes were full of lust. "Lay back." The command was quiet but sharp, and she obeyed instantly, sinking against further into the leather seats, opening her legs to invite him more, which gave her a view of her glistening folds.
He was shocked when he watched the girl lick her palm before she reached between them, wrapping her fingers around the thick length of his cock. Cameron hissed through his teeth, the sound jagged, his head dropping back for a second before snapping up again to watch her.
She stroked him once, slow and teasing, smearing her spit and his precum down the veiny shaft before angling him down, dragging the swollen head through the slick mess of her folds.
The pressure against her clit made her jolt, lips parting on a gasp as she circled him there, coating him with her arousal.
"Fu-Fuck.” Cameron groaned, voice breaking, his hands moving to grip her hips as he watched. "Look at how wet you are for me." He groaned, hissing at the strained pleasure that shot through his tip. Joie grinned at him, breathless, guiding the head of his cock down lower, sliding it along her entrance before pulling it back up over her clit again, teasing them both and dragging more wetness across his length.
She then moved her hand, which Cameron wasted no time in replacing. He held the base of his cock as he pushed into her slowly, inch by inch, until he was fully sheathed inside her. Both of them groaned at once-his deep and guttural, hers high-pitched and needy. He was thick, so thick, and every second of taking him made her cunt flutter wildly.
"So tight.” Cameron gasped, his knuckles whitening on your hips. "Squeezing the life out of me." Joie’s nails dug into his arms, feeling every ridge and pulsing vein of him filling her. It was almost too much, her body was trembling with the stretch, but he didn't stop until his pelvis pressed against her, his trimmed hair tickling against her clit. And maybe it was the alcohol, but everything about it all was just setting her off inside.
"Holy shit.” Joie panted, her head tipping back as she tried to catch her breath. "You're so deep, baby. Ngh, I can feel you so much." He groaned low in his chest, his eyes glazed and wild as they dragged over her flushed expression.
"You look so fucking beautiful like this.” He whispered, his thumbs stroking slow circles into your skin. "Taking my cock like this." Joie rolled her hips slowly, grinding down against him, savoring the drag of his cock inside. The intimacy of it had her chest aching. He held her hips, letting her rut against him, letting her take her time with his size. "Good girl.” He praised.
But then, he started to move. His first thrusts were gentle, patient, his gaze locked unwaveringly with yours through the hazy smoke. Every roll of his hips felt measured, like he was memorizing the exact way you clenched around him, how your breath hitched when he bottomed out again and again.
Joie's legs wrapped around his waist, her heels digging into his back, urging him deeper as she whimpered.
The pace built gradually; his hips adjusted, the angle changing so his movements pressed into her with more control more deliberate intent. Joie dragged her nails down his back, catching on the faint, raised heat of the lines she’d already carved into him earlier, and his low groan vibrated into her mouth when he leaned forward to capture her lips. Slow at first before his tongue slipped in, teasing past your lips with a careful push.
She let him in without hesitation, sucking gently at the slick heat of his tongue. That pulled a quiet, muffled groan from his throat, the sound spilling into her mouth like he wanted her to taste it. Joie sucked a little harder, and his hips faltered for just a second before he drove into her deeper, his grip on your waist tightening.
The kiss turned messy, wet and greedy. Sloppy in their inebriated gaze. She could feel the soft scrape of his teeth, the warm glide of spit when he drew back just enough to breathe and look at her moving chest before sealing his mouth to her again. Every thrust synced with the slow tangle of tongues, the rhythm building heat between their bodies until the air felt almost too thick to draw in.
Her legs tightened around his hips, and his thrusts answered-harder now, deeper, until she could feel every thick inch of him filling and stretching her. She could feel her body tightening, every muscle winding itself like a coil. That hot, aching twist at the base of her spine shot upward in a shiver, leaving her breathless.
His thrusts began to lose their careful rhythm, turning just a little ragged, the weight of each one landing deep and heavy, skin slapping against skin in an erotic sound that Joie loved. His mouth stayed on her even as control slipped, mining into her mouth. The heat of his breath mingled with hers, drool slick between their lips as she sucked it down greedily, unwilling to lose any part of him.
The sounds coming out of him was low, stuttering whimpers that cracked, only made her chest tighten more. She moved her hand down to squeezed his, clutching him like an anchor.
Then his free hand slid down, his broad palm pressing into her stomach for a moment before his fingers slipped lower between them. The calloused pad of his middle finger found her clit instantly, circling with just enough pressure to make her breath break.
"I want you to cum all ov-over my dick..." He panted, the words catching on the tremor in his voice. The desperation in his tone cracked something open inside of Joie. The slick mess he’d made earlier still coated her.
Her thighs twitched involuntarily, the muscles locking and releasing in sharp pulses.
He groaned low when her walls clenched hard around him, and the sound seemed to vibrate straight through Joie’s chest. His strokes against her clit got just a little faster, perfectly in time with his thrusts that were deep and deliberate. The pleasure crested so fast she could barely warn him, breath breaking into frantic little gasps and her hips tilting up to chase him.
Her voice catching on a cry that turned into his name. “Oooh, Cameron.” She rasped. “C-Ca-Cameron.”
“I know, baby. I know, my good girl.” He whined with her, continuing his never ending movement against her. Joie whined louder at his words, heat bursting through her like a shockwave. Her whole body clamped down around him, legs tightening until her heels dug into the backs of his thighs. "Th-That's it.” He groaned, almost choking on the sound, his thrusts faltering into deep, grinding pushes as she convulsed around him. "God, that's it, fuck-"
She was still shuddering through the peak when his own restraint snapped. His hips pressed flush to hers, burying him as deep as her body would take, and she felt his cock twitching hard inside of her, the first hot pulse of his release spilling deep against her cervix. He let out a broken, guttural moan, forehead dropping to hers as the warmth flooded her in thick, heavy waves, clinging to every inch of her from the inside out.
Her aftershocks dragged him through it, his hips rocking in small, helpless movements like he needed to keep himself inside of her, needing to give her every single drop. Joie could feel the mess pooling around them, his cum mixed with hers, hot and slick and impossibly full in the tiny space.
His breathing was wrecked, shallow against her cheek as he kissed her again, slow and messy, like neither of you could remember how to let go. Her hands found his, still on bee hips. Her fingers curled around his, holding him in place as if the moment might slip away if he eased up even an inch.
Cameron finally drew back from her mouth, the kiss breaking with a faint, wet sound that seemed to hung in the air. His chest rose against hers in long, shaky breaths, each exhale brushing warm across her lips. His forehead dipped just enough to touch hers again.
Her fingers curled tighter around the one hand he still had pressed into her skin.
The air in the car was heavy, still humming from what they’d just done. Smoke clung to the ceiling, swirling with the faint scent of sweat and cologne, and the world outside had gone silent. No music, no laughter from the house anymore, just the slow rhythm of their breathing.
Joie ended up lying against Cameron’s chest, her cheek pressed to the warm skin beneath his shirt that he hadn’t bothered to pull back on yet. His heartbeat thudded steady under her ear, grounding her in the haze of…everything she’s injected and endured today. His arm was resting along her back, fingers tracing lazy shapes against her bare shoulder, the pads of his fingertips brushing her skin in a way that made her shiver even though it wasn’t from the cold.
Neither of them spoke at first. The silence thick and lingering.
Joie shifted slightly, her voice a murmur.
“I…can’t tell if that was the dumbest or realest thing I’ve done all semester.” She mumbled, eyes spaced out on somewhere in the car.
Cameron chuckled under his breath, his voice low and gravelly. “Maybe both.” He said. “Dumb and real usually go hand in hand.”
She smiled faintly, eyes half-lidded as she looked up at him. His face was softer now, replaced with something uncertain, an uncertainty that matched hers. Neither of them were sure what to do with being in the situation they were in. Now knowing each other in such a way. His fingers paused their absent-minded tracing. “You okay?” He asked quietly.
Joie nodded. “Yeah. Just… wasn’t expecting this.” She said softly, letting out a small nervous laugh. Her tone was careful, almost shy—something he hadn’t seen in her before now.
“Me either.” He said. “But… I’m not mad about it.” He shrugged.
Joie’s laugh was small, breathy, but it pulled a real smile out of him. For a while, they just stayed like that. His arm around her waist, her legs tangled over his, both of them caught in the warmth that came after all the noise.
“The show starts in five minutes,” Lois said as she breezed over from the coffee machine, steam rising from the sugary concoction in her mug. Her jet black hair bounced against her shoulders as she took a seat at the small break room table, sighing dramatically. “And Jimmy’s still not here with the food.”
“He’ll be here.” Cat said, snapping her compact mirror shut after she finished fixing her red lipstick until it was perfect. You furrowed your brows at her. “Why are you fixing your makeup?” You asked with your mouth half full of your breakfast burrito. “It’s gonna come off when you eat.”
“I know!” Cat grinned, entirely unbothered. She smoothed a palm over her sleek hair as she stood. “But I was gonna go take some pictures by the window. The lighting is nice this time of day.” She said before standing up, heels clicking as she strutted across the floor, headed toward the nearest stream of golden sunlight.
You blinked at her, chewing slowly, then shook your head with a laugh. “I’m glad your priorities are straight, Cat.” You chuckled, watching your coworker, who was more a nice friend, make her way to the windows.
“I think you need straight priorities as well.” Lois added, causing you to look to your right at the woman, but her gaze was on your lips.
Your brows knit together. “What do you mean?”
“You got sauce.” She said, gesturing to her lips. She was quick to hand you a napkin, which you took to dab the mess away.
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” She said, her eyes twinkling with quick mischief. “You know, you could avoid that kind of thing if you ate with the rest of us.” She stated, and you were already rolling your eyes at her, knowing where this was going. “Why don’t you eat with the rest of us?”
“Says the woman that’s currently waiting on their order.” You shit back, quirking a brow at her. “And it’s not even food. You guys are eating cheap pastries with jelly if you want to get fancy, and a coffee.”
Lois lifted her index finger in protest, her expression sharp with playful seriousness. “Cheap but delicious.” She said, causing you to roll your eyes.
“Plus, you know how particular I am about food.”
“Trust me, I know.” Lois muttered, her gaze sweeping over your meal. She had every right to be exasperated. Your breakfast was laid out with surgical precision. A burrito sliced into perfect halves, a bowl of colorful fruit aligned just so, yogurt with granola on the side, and a latte that smelled strong enough to wake the dead..
Same breakfast you had every Monday.
You furrowed your brows at her. “Are you judging me right now? I hear judgment in your tone.”
“No one’s judging you, Y/N.” She gave your shoulder a reassuring pat, all while sipping her sugar-loaded coffee. The door to the break room then burst open, startling all of you.
“I’m here!” Jimmy practically yelled as he came into the break room, arms stacked with flat pastry boxes.
“We see.” You and Lois said at the same time, still shocked at his sudden entrance.
“And hear.” Cat said as she moved back over to her seat at the table, her phone still out to snap pictures of her pastry haul.
“And smell.” Steve Lombard finished, entering the room behind Jimmy with his usual smug attitude. He then clapped his hands with a large grin. “Now pop open those doughnuts, turn on that TV and let’s get this show on the road!”.
Clark tailed in after them, a little slower, balancing his briefcase, his cup of coffee and a brown paper bag. He offered the group a warm, polite smile, dimples deepening in that effortless way of his.
Your gaze lingered longer than it should have. When he caught it, he smiled crookedly, and your pulse skipped. You looked away quickly, afraid your face might give you away, focusing instead on the television perched in the corner of the room where the news station would soon start.
Jimmy set the boxes down carefully. “Alright, who’s ready?”
Steve was already digging in, but Jimmy suddenly jerked back, glaring. “Hey, wait a second. You didn’t put in on these pastries.”He said.
“Uh, yeah I did.” Steve stated, as if it were the most obvious thing. “I gave you those two bucks one time.” He added, chewing on his gum. Jimmy froze mid-unboxing, scowling. “That was for a cab. Two weeks ago.”
“Still gave you cash, bro.” The other man shrugged. You rolled your eyes at the ridiculous exchange, on Steve’s part, just as a paper bag was sat down next to your lunch box. A smile breeched your face before you could try to contain it, already knowing what and who it was from.
You looked up, connecting eyes with Clark’s blue ones that were behind his black frames. “Thanks.” You said softly.
“No problem.” Clark muttered, scratching behind his ear, a faint flush rising under his glasses. When you glanced away, Lois was already watching you knowingly, her brow arched. You tried to wordlessly shush her with a look, but she only smirked into her coffee. You then tilted your head at her. “What? It’s a matcha doughnut.” You mumbled defensively, shrugging it off like it was no big deal.
Trying not to dwell on the situation more than needed, you looked back up at Clark before he could walk away.
“You should sit with us.” You suggested, gesturing over to the empty seat, well, was empty. It was now occupied by Steve, who plopped down with a grain as soon as you spoke. “Steve, get up.” You snipped. The older man, who was halfway through eating a doughnut, stopped what he was doing and looked at you.
“What?” He questioned.
“Up!” You hissed, taking your used and balled up napkin and throwing it at him. It hit him in his forehead, but you were already looking back up at Clark when he yelled out. “Hey!” He said, standing from his seat.
“See, have a seat with us Clark.” You grinned, gesturing over to the empty chair. “We’re about to watch Good Morning Metropolis.”
“Oh, no.” Clark said with a small and nervous laugh, waving them off. “I can’t. I…have work o need to get to.” He said. Everyone else groaned at that collectively, all while you squinted your eyes at him, sensing a lie in the way he avoided eye contact.
“Oh, come on, Clark.” Lois groaned, chewing on a Long John pastry. “You never want to watch GMM with us.”
“Yeah.” Cat added. “Who doesn’t want to eat sweet food and watch hot people talk about hot topics.” She said, and all the woman shared a grin at the mention, all thinking of the same man. “Have you seen Cameron Cade?”
“I’ll watch Cameron Cade in anything.”Lois gushed with a soft sigh.
“Me too.” You admitted. “I saw his new Men’s Health photoshoot the other day. My goodness. Why is he wasting away behind a desk? That man either needs to play ball or walk a runway.” You smirked. The women hummed their agreement in unison while the men groaned.
“He doesn’t even look that good.” Jimmy mumbled.
Steve scoffed. “Play ball? Please. He doesn’t even look like he can catch a ball.”
“See, this is why I don’t watch.” Clark added, turning to go out the door. “I can’t sit around and hear people gush about my cousin.” He said, and was about to walk out, but stopped at the eerie silence that lingered then.
You turned in your seat, mouth gaped just as everyone else. “Cousin?” You echoed, eyes wide. Clark shoulders sagged as he sighed, pinching at the bridge of his nose under his glasses. “Yeah.” He sighed, turning back to face the group.
“Cameron Cade is your cousin?” Lois questioned.
“Yes! Yes, Cameron Cade is my cousin.” Clark stated dramatically, already regretting his slip up. “The famous one, the guy you all watch on television. The one you all kept calling hot, is my cousin.” He huffed, and they all stared at him for a moment, even Steve stopped chewing his food.
“Woah.” You breathed. You then tilted your head as you looked him over. “Now that you say it… I kinda see the resemblance.” You mumbled, causing the others to mumble in agreement while Clark sighed.
Before anyone could press him about it further, the upbeat jingle of a familiar intro blasted from the television.
“It’s starting!” Cat squealed, diving for the remote to turn up the volume. The others immediately turned their attention to the screen, buzzing with anticipation. But you kept your gaze on Clark, watching the frustration still etched in his brow.
When he finally glanced your way, you offered a small, conspiratorial smile.
“We’ll finish this later,” you whispered, before turning back to the TV.
─────────────⟡──────────────
𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐲 | 𝟕:𝟐𝟎 𝐚.𝐦. | 𝐍𝐞𝐰𝐭𝐨𝐧-𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐨 |
The studio smelled faintly of hairspray, fresh coffee, and the burning tang of hot lights warming up. Crew members shuffled around the set, testing mics, shuffling through note cards, and adjusting the angles of sleek and expensive cameras for the perfect shot.
Your red-bottom heels clicked across the polished studio floor as you entered, posture straight and tall and your notes clutched neatly in your hand. You always made sure to arrive early to be prepared and ready. Your hair was done, makeup was sharp, and wardrobe ever immaculate. Morning television had a way of demanding perfection at every hour, on the hour, and you had learned how to give it good—a polished smile and bright eyes bright.
Sliding into your seat at the desk, you set your things down with care, scanning over your highlighted notes for the day’s segments. But when your gaze flicked to the left, to the seat beside you, it was empty.
Your brows furrowed. Where was he?
“Val.” You called gently, catching the attention of a production assistant darting by with an armful of cue cards.
“Yes, ma’am?” Val stopped, offering a polite smile.
“I’ll be right back.” You told her, your own lips curling into a professional grin of reassurance. “I have to use the bathroom.”
She nodded briskly. “Of course. I’ll keep these safe for you.” She accepted your things—your note cards, your mug, everything except your phone—and bustled away.
Once out of your seat, you turned, heels clicking again as you waked the way you came. But your direction was not the bathroom. Instead, you slipped down a hallway with a subtle glance behind you to ensure no one was watching. Heart beating faster, you stopped in front of a door next to your dressing room.
You took one deep breath before you opened the door and slipped inside quickly, closing it behind you.
The air in here was warmer, faintly smelling of starch and cologne.
“You’re late.” You said flatly, eyes locked on the tall man before you, who was halfway through changing into his nice suit.
“I had to go pick up my things from the dry cleaners.” He said as he buttoned his shirt in front of his vanity, only a bit to keep it in place before he grabbed his freshly starched pants. His tall frame was impossible to miss, shoulders broad, arms and legs long and strong, and his hair a sandy crown that caught the light in the most perfect way.
You then placed your hands on your hips. “Why do you put on your shirt before your pants?” You questioned with a tilt of your head, eyes narrowing in mock disdain at the sight of the pant-less man. Though you had to take time to admire what he was working with. Thick thighs, nice long legs, and just beyond his briefs as a huge pack—
“You’re staring.” Cameron’s voice cut in, smooth and teasing.
Your eyes snapped back up to his, finding his green-hazel gaze glimmering at you through his tortoise shell frames, and that infuriating smirk curving his lips. He was smug, so sure of himself, but he wasn’t wrong.
You wanted to blush, but you couldn’t—wouldn’t—give him the satisfaction. So instead, you pushed your glasses up before crossing your arms with feigned composure, looking up at him. “You have nothing I haven’t seen before.” You scoffed softly before tilting your head at him. “What, does it make you nervous?” You questioned.
“No.” He said, shaking his head as he tugged his pants up over his hips with a deliberate slowness, fastening them with ease. Then he stepped closer, closing the distance between you in only two strides. He leaned down until his shadow mingled with yours, his voice low and velvety. “But it does turn me on.”his eyes were locked with yours. Neither of you could fight your smiles as he got closer, placing his lips on yours.
You returned the kiss, causing him to let out a hum at the feeling of your lips on his.
The kiss was soft but insistent. He kisses you once. Then twice. Then again and again. His lips pressed against yours with warmth and hunger, and you returned the kiss, letting yourself melt into the taste of him for just a moment. Another hum rumbled deep in his chest, pleased, until you pushed him back with a hand against his jaw.
“Don’t start something you can’t finish, Mr. Cade.” You murmured, hold his face in your hand, softly tapping a perfectly manicured finger on his dimple. But your grin betrayed whatever you were saying.
He was still smirking when you reached up with practiced fingers, licking your thumb before dabbing gently at the corner of his mouth to erase the faint smudge of lipstick you’d left behind. He simply watched you with shameless amusement, lips curving wider.
“ ‘Can’t finish’ is not in my vocabulary, baby.” He grinned, standing tall to finish the buttons on his shirt before he began to tuck it into his pants.
“Oh, right, but ‘finish too quickly’ is?” You asked with a quirked brow, leaning against the vanity dresser, turning your back to the mirror.
That wiped the grin clean off Cameron’s face. He froze mid-motion, pants unbuttoned and belt unfastened, his hands pausing at his hips. His expression was priceless.
“That was one time.” He stated flatly, pointing a finger at you.
You tilted your head with a smirk, savoring the smugness curling inside you.
“And it was your fault for playing footsies at the dinner table.” He continued. “You know I can’t hold long it after I’m riled up, it’s runs my family.”
“Okay, Mr. Weak Pelvic Floor.” You shit back, checking your watch. “We have five minutes until we’re on the air and you haven’t even been to hair and make up.” You said as you stood from resting against the dresser.
Cameron gasped at the name you called him, but decided to ignore it for now since you were right, there was only five—
Just then, a knock sounded in the door before a voice chimed through. “Five minutes till air.”
“Thanks, Val!” You and Cameron both replied at once. Your heads snapped toward each other, eyes wide, before laughter broke loose. You covered your mouth in shock, but to also stifle your giggles, while Cameron leaned back against the vanity, chuckling. “Look at you, slipping up.” He quipped, voice husky with delight.
“Oh, shut it and get to hair and makeup.” You hissed, a blush blooming on your cheeks as you walked over to the door to leave. You reached for the doorknob, but his voice stopped you.
“Uh, aren’t you forgetting something?”
You turned to him to see he standing there smugly, hands on his lips, his weight resting on one leg, and his chin tilted towards you.
When you furrowed your brows at him, he pointed to his cheek. “You know we don’t say goodbye without a kiss. My mother didn’t raise me that way.” He replied with a teasing grin on his lips. You rolled your eyes at him, though there was an amused look on your face. “I need to have a few worlds with your mother.” You said, walking back over to him.
Before he could speak, you leaned in, aiming for his cheek, but at the last second he turned his head, connecting your lips. To not ruin your lipstick, the kisses were soft but mischievous. Just a few quick and harmless pecks. Pecks that had you in a fit of giggles when he tried to litter them down your neck. “Cameron—” You pushed his face away with both hands, laughing harder. “We have to go.”You laughed.
He leaned back, grin wide and boyish. “You want to meet my mother?” He questioned, and your eyes widened. “I didn’t say that.”
“That’s what I hear.” He teased as he watched you back away. You shook your head, backing toward the door and shooting him one last look. “Two minutes.” You warned before moving to close the door behind you.
“See ya there!” He called out before the door fully shut, and you could practically hear the grin in his voice as you left.
You silently rolled your eyes at him before making your way back to set. By the time you returned, the others were already gathered at the desk, chatting and getting ready to go on air. You took your place at one of the main center seats at the table, the one next to you empty for the man you just left in his dressing room.
As soon as you sat down,Val was over in a hurry. She sat your mug, note cards and other things around you, before moving to fix your appearance, staring with your hair, smoothing a flyaway strand of hair with gentle fingers.
Then, out of the corner of your eye, you saw him enter.
Your eyes moved to Cameron, watching as he entered the sound stage. Even in the bustle of the studio, he drew eyes with his tall and built frame. That and his charming smile. He threw his head back laughing at something another PA said as he made his way over to take his seat next to you, adjusting his microphone.
Now in the right lighting, the hair and makeup team got to work, blotting away any blemishes, dusting powder across his jaw, brushing through his curls.
The two of you were sitting there in silence, though the tension was there and palpable. At least, between you. It was there in the way neither of you glanced at each other. In the way his large hand subtly inched towards yours on top of the table, his pinkie tapping against the glass top to keep his hand at bay. In the way your jaw clenched the moment you caught a whiff of his cologne, same as the ones that lingered in your sheets. In the way he looked over when you tossed your hair over your shoulder, taking in the expanse of your collarbone and chest, where your breasts sat nicely, and the necklace he’d gotten your danced in the studio light, moving with every breath you took. The way you watched his large, nice hands move about with the things littered on the desk, veins prominent through his tan skin.
“Okay, everything looks good.” Val said, eyeing your face. She was about to give you a thumbs up when she caught something. “Wait, hold on, your lip sticks smudged.” She said, and your entire body went hot. So much so that your glasses began to fog a bit, the blur rising from the bottom of your frames. Cameron had to close his eyes to not stop himself from laughing, looking down at his notes while your stomach bubbled in mortification. You simply gulped, trying to compose yourself while Val went to work on your lips.
She then pulled back with a smile. “Okay, all done and just in time.” She smiled. She then tilted her head at you, and just by the look in her eye, you knew that she knew. She let out a soft laugh before patting your hand as she leaned in. “It’s okay, diva.” She whispered before gliding away.
Once she was done, you turned to look at your co-host, who simply grinned at your deadpan. “Ready?” Cameron asked.
