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MY PLEASURE | T.W chapter 2

tyriq withers x black fem!oc (Imani Brooks)

Synopsis: in which, they finally have that coffee/rehearse lines date. (Idk)

author’s note: one of my best friends literally threatened me and told me to hurry up with the second chapter or else.. (did not proofread this one as well, I’m sorry!) chapter three coming later today, after this homework is done.

The ride home was quiet, but her mind wasn’t.

Imani still couldn’t shake the scene from her head—not the lines, not the moment his hand brushed hers, not the look in his eyes when he said that line that wasn’t even in the damn script.

She unlocked her apartment, dropped her keys on the counter, and let out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding.

‘Okay, calm down,” she muttered, slipping her shoes off. “It’s just Tyriq Withers. You work with him. That’s it.”

Still, the smiles wouldn’t leave her face.

She took a long shower, let the steam clear her head, then spent the next hour cleaning her apartment the way she always did when her brain was buzzing too loud—wiping counters, folding laundry she’d been ignoring, putting on music she wasn’t really listening to.

When she finally flopped onto the couch, her hoodie on—she reached for her phone.

Notification after Notification popped up.

She scrolled aimlessly for a second until one caught her eye:

INSTAGRAM

“tyriqwithers started following you.”

She blinked, rubbing her eyes. Squinting—then she got up hurrying to her room to grab her glasses. Then blinked again.

“The nigga followed me…i—.” She said going back to her living room as she flopped down on the couch again.

Her finger hovered over the screen before she tapped his profile. Verified check. 234K followers. The most recent post? A photo shoot and interview for Hollywood Reporter.

Her stomach did a slow flip.

Seconds later, another notification slid down.

“tyriqwithers liked your photo.”

From three weeks ago.

Imani gasped, covering her mouth. “Oh, he’s scrolling,” she whispered, half in disbelief, half giddy. “He’s actually scrolling.”

She immediately swiped out of Insta and went to FaceTime.

“Amaya, you will not believe this,” She said as soon as her best friend picked up.

Amaya blinked, still half-asleep. “Imani, Bro—it’s like what midnight?”

“Girl it’s 1pm.” Imani said, sitting cross-legged on the couch. “Anyways, He followed me on Instagram.” Amaya jumped up with quickness.

“I beg your pardon?!” Amaya asked in excitement, bonnet half-way off her head,

Imani nodded quickly. “And not only that—he liked a photo from three. Weeks. Ago.

Imani could see Amaya jump out of bed and run around her room out of excitement for her.

Amaya calmed down catching her breath. “Nah, he’s deep in your page.”

“Right?!” Imani said, laughing and half=panicking. “You don’t just accidentally end up that far back. He scrolled with purpose.”

“You gotta play it cool,” Amaya warned.

“Oh, i am, trust.” Imani said, already typing.” “Very cool. Ice cold. Totally chill.”

Amaya shook her head at the cringy statement, but laughed. “You’re about to DM him, aren’t you?”

“…Maybe.”

Then her phone buzzed—a DM.

tyriqwithers: so you just weren’t gonna follow me back? 👀

Imani froze mid-laugh.

imani.brooks: I was debating it. Didn’t wanna seem too eager.

A typing bubble appeared almost instantly.

tyriqwithers: too late. you already smiling at your screen.

She gasped, eyes wide. “He knows!”

Her friend sat up. “Wait, wait, show me! share your screen!”

Imani hit the share button, pulling the DMs onto FaceTime. “Look! LOOK at what this man is doing—.”

Her friend covered her mouth. “Oh, he’s flirting-flirting.”

imani.brooks: bold assumption.

tyriqwithers: accurate one.

Her friend squealed. “IMANI. He’s good. Be careful.”

imani.brooks: so you’re stalking me now?

tyriqwithers: don’t act like you ain’t looked me up first

imani.brooks: don’t act like you weren’t in one of the most talked about movies this fall… of course I looked you up.

tyriqwithers: how come you never followed me then?

imani.brooks: you probably wouldn’t have even followed me back.

tyriqwithers: oh, so now you’re saying I’m picky?

Imani dropped her phone on her lap, her hands covering her face. “Oh my God.”

Her friend gasped. “He did not say that.”

“He did!” Imani laughed as she bounced in her seat, trying to contain her laughter and failing spectacularly.

—❥❦❧❦❥❦❧ ❥❦❧❦❥❦❧ ❥❦❧❦❥❦❧ ❥❦❧❦❥❦❧ ❥❦❧❦❥❦❧

-time skip

Imani showed up ten minutes early — partly because she didn’t want to seem unprofessional, mostly because she didn’t trust L.A. traffic.

She grabbed a corner table, ordered a vanilla latte, and tried not to look like she’d overthought her outfit — casual jeans, cropped jacket, little gold hoops. Chill. Totally chill.

Then the door opened, and there he was.

Gray hoodie, sweatpants, that easy smile that looked even better in person.

“Hey,” Tyriq said, walking over. “You really showed up early?”

“See? Growth,” she said, laughing. “I’m turning over a new leaf.”

“Uh-huh,” he said, pulling out the chair across from her. “I’ll believe it when I see you on time twice in a row.”

She rolled her eyes. “You talk too much for somebody who was five minutes late.”

He laughed. “Traffic.”

“Mm-hmm.”

They both laughed, the tension easing. He set his phone and script down, glancing at her cup then back up at her.

“You already started without me?”

“I was tryna calm my nerves,” she admitted. “Didn’t think you’d mind.”

“Nah, you good. Cause I actually wanted to quiz you today.”

She leaned back, narrowing her eyes. “Bullshit.”

He laughed, holding up his hands. “I’m deadass! You said you knew your lines, right?”

“I do but—,” she said as Tyriq quickly cut her off

“Uh uh no buts” he said, flipping open his script. “Let’s see if all that ‘favorite book’ energy paid off.”

She shook her head, grinning. “You’re so annoying.”

“Annoying?” he said with a mock gasp. “It’s called dedication.”

“Uh-huh,” she said, rolling her eyes but smiling. “We’ll see.”

She blinked, pausing mid-laugh. “Wait—how did you even know The Waiting Room was my favorite book?”

Tyriq just shrugged, that small knowing grin tugging at his lips. “You mentioned it in some interview like, two years ago. I did my homework.”

Her brows lifted. “Homework?”

“Yeah,” he said, leaning back, still grinning.

“Ohh, so you’re a fan,” she said, smiling into her cup.

He raised an eyebrow. “If I’m a fan, then so are you.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “Nah, I just did my research—”

“Uh-huh,” he interrupted, smirking. “That’s exactly what I said.”

“Actually it’s not, you said homework, yesterday it was research—.” She laughed and he smacked his teeth.

“Homework, research. Same shit. I just like to know who I’m working with.”

Imani squinted at him, fighting a grin. “Oh really? So that explains you liking a photo from three years ago and watching an interview from, what, two summers ago?”

Tyriq laughed, caught. “So you keeping timestamps on me, got it.”

Timestamps?!” she said, laughing. “You practically got yourself caught.”

He put his hands up like, fair point. “Alright, you got me. But that picture was nice, I’m not gonna lie.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Nice how?”

He hesitated just enough to make it obvious, then said, “You looked really pretty in that one.”

Imani tried to bite back her smile but failed. “What’s that I hear? Is that… glazing?”

Tyriq blinked at her, then leaned back, laughing. “Wowwwwwwwww. Glazing is crazyyy work.”

She broke into a laugh, shaking her head. “I’m joking!”

“Nah, you said it with your chest,” he said, grinning, pointing at her across the table.

“Relax,” she said, still laughing. “I’m just saying, you sounded real media-trained for a second.”

“Me? Media trained? Never,” he said, leaning back in his chair with that easy grin. “You should know this, miss ‘I might’ve seen some of your work.’”

Imani laughed, shaking her head. “You really not gonna let that go, huh?”

“Never,” he said without missing a beat, that grin widening just a little.

She rolled her eyes, trying not to smile. “You love holding that over me.”

“Just a little,” he said. “It’s rare I get the upper hand.”

She smirked, tilting her head. “‘It’s rare that I get the upper hand,’” she mocked, dropping her voice into a half-impression of him.

Tyriq chuckled, shaking his head. “Aight, so you just gon’ clown me to my face?”

“I mean, you set yourself up,” she said, biting back a laugh.

“Mmhm,” he said, pretending to think. “We’ll see who’s clownin’ when we run these lines.”

“Mm, I like your confidence. Big words for someone who’s about to sit there and stumble over the first line.” Imani said.

Stumble?” Tyriq grabbed his script. “You mean murder it, right?”

She raised an eyebrow. “Sure, sure. Murder it. But if you’re gonna murder, I’m gonna dissect every little mistake.”

“Dissect?” He teased. “You sound like my chemistry teacher.”

She smacked her teeth and rolled her eyes picking her script back up. Immediately diving into her lines.

“You can’t just walk back in here like everything’s fine and expect me to—”

“—fall apart?” he finished for her, eyes sparkling.

She laughed, caught off guard. “Don’t finish my lines, Tyriq. That’s cheating.”

—❥❦❧❦❥❦❧ ❥❦❧❦❥❦❧ ❥❦❧❦❥❦❧ ❥❦❧❦❥❦❧ ❥❦❧❦❥❦❧

They spent the next twenty minutes running lines, interrupting each other for jokes, small teases, and playful eye rolls.

At one point, Tyriq threw his hands up mid-line: “Alright, hypothetically — if I walked back into your life after whatever happened, how would you feel?”

Imani leaned back, smirking. “Honestly? I’d probably be like… ‘you really showed up again?’ And then roll my eyes before secretly lowkey smiling.”

“Lowkey smiling, huh…so you’re just gonna front like you don’t care?” Tyriq said smiling.

Imani shrugs, grinning. “Yeah, I gotta keep you wanting more.”

“Well can’t you tell it’s obviously working.” He says smirking as Imani chuckled, checking her phone for the time.

He glances at her phone. “You gotta go?”

Imani sighs, smiling. “Yeah…gotta get back before I totally fall behind on homework.” (The homework was calling Amaya and giving her an update asap.)

Tyriq raises an eyebrow, grinning. “Homework? You’re not even in college anymore—you graduated like two years ago.”

Imani rolls her eyes, laughing. She points at him. “See? That’s that fan behavior I was talking about earlier.”

Tyriq laughs. “Fan behavior? I ain’t even doin’ nothing crazy.”

Imani smirks. “Uh-huh…sureee.”

Tyriq chuckles and starts getting up as she begins packing her things.

She looks up at him, smiling, and before he can even protest, she steps forward and goes in for a quick hug.

“See you tomorrow,” she murmurs, pulling back just enough to grin at him.

“Yeah…see you,” he replies, his smile easy, relaxed, like he’s been doing this a lot longer than he should admit.

They both step back, and Tyriq straightens his hoodie, giving her that easy grin again.

“Alright, I’ll let you go before you’re late for…whatever your ‘homework’ is,” he teases.

Imani laughs, shaking her head. “Yeah, yeah…don’t get used to me rushing.”

He chuckles, watching her sling her bag over her shoulder. “I’ll try not to.”

Once she’s in her car, Imani can’t resist. She pulls out her phone and texts her best friend immediately:

IMANI: Amaya…he’s way too much.

AMAYA: omg what happened now lol

IMANI: I hugged him…he just smiled like it was nothing. Just chill. 😩

AMAYA: stoppppp yall are so cute. Ask him if he could pmo to his homeboys, brothers, damn idk someone!

IMANI: I’m literally tryna be professional

AMAYA: professional my ass. you be lying to yourself girl. Just admit it…you’re lowkey easy and so am I🙂

IMANI: lmao shut up

—❥❦❧❦❥❦❧ ❥❦❧❦❥❦❧ ❥❦❧❦❥❦❧ ❥❦❧❦❥❦❧ ❥❦❧❦❥❦❧

Her phone buzzed as she pulled into her driveway.

TYRIQ: You get home safe?

Imani smiled, typing back quickly.

IMANI: Yeah, made it. Thanks for asking 🙂

She grabbed her things, still smiling. “Okay…that was actually kinda sweet,” she said aloud, laughing at herself as she grabbed her bag and headed inside.

bye divas, hope you enjoyed!

don’t forget to leave a little love

—inksol ღ

[romcomfeinnn]

I loveeee yall go read thissss

[dearlizzies]

when reading smut and y/n says “daddy”

[romcomfeinnn]

I need another sinners fanficcc asap @soulsnatcha3000

[soulsnatcha3000]

SINNERS SPOILERS:

Pearline on stage after receiving the most life-altering, soul-snatching tongue tango of her LIFEEE:

okay I’m done posting for now

[soulsnatcha3000]

Devour You

Summary: Evelyn Rose Harris and Sammie ‘Preacher Boy’ Moore have been inseparable since childhood—laughing, fighting, and always knowing each other better than anyone else. For her, Sammie Moore has always been the one. She’s tried to bury her feelings for years, but now, the space between them feels different. A look. A touch. A tension that’s been brewing for far too long. Sammie’s no longer oblivious, and neither is she.

In the heat of their unspoken desire, everything is about to change.

Warnings: is there really any? We know how freaky he is. okay sorry seriously though.

Oral Sex(fem receiving), Praise, Unprotected Sex

a/n: I had to write one myself guys. Hope yall enjoy reading this! Let me know what yall think🫶🏾

Clarksdale, Mississippi, 1932: Church

It was a hot, sunny day in Mississippi, the kind where the air sticks to your skin like molasses. My dress clung to me from the heat, and the warm air inside the church didn’t help either. I must’ve been spacing out because before I knew it, my little sister was tugging on my hand.

“Evie, we gots to go. Momma said you gotta help with dinner,” Janie Mae said, her soft voice snapping me out of my haze.

My sweet little Janie Mae—best little sister a girl could ask for, even though she knows just how to get on my last nerve. I smiled down at her and let her lead me out. Folks were already heading toward the exit, saying their goodbyes to the preacher. Some were still caught in conversation, fanning themselves with paper programs.

I waved goodbye to the preacher, who smiled and waved right back. But my eyes were scanning the crowd. Now where is that hard-headed best friend of mine?

We stepped out into the sunlight, and just as I blinked against the glare, I felt hands on my shoulders.

“Boo!”

I jumped and spun around, ready to swat somebody. But then I saw that familiar grin. My body instantly relaxed.

“That ain’t funny, preacher boy!” I smacked his shoulder while he laughed, full and loud, his grin stretching wide across his face.

“Oh come on now, it was a lil’ bit funny. Wasn’t it, Janie Mae?” he said, leaning down and holding out his hand.

Janie Mae giggled and gave him a high five.

My jaw dropped. “Janie! You were in on that?”

“I’m sorry, sissy,” she said dramatically. “But preacher boy said he’d sing for me again! And I haven’t heard him sing in sooooo long!”

“Wow, Janie. Him over me? It’s like that?”

Before she could respond, we heard our momma and daddy calling us from across the churchyard.

“Mrs. Harris invited my dad and me over for dinner,” preacher boy said, a little softer now. “I’ll talk to you then.”

And just like that, he leaned in and kissed my forehead before turning back toward the church, heading inside with his hands in his pockets.

I think I melted. No—I know I did. I am now a puddle on this dusty path.

Janie Mae looked up at me with that smug little smile, eyebrows raised like she knew something. I grinned and gently pushed her face away.

“Go on now,” I laughed, breaking into a run toward our parents.

“Momma! Evie pushed my face!” Janie Mae tattled, dramatic as ever.

“Oh, here you go,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Momma, it was harmless—we were just playin’.”

Momma gave us that look—half stern, half amused—and shook her head. “Get in the car so we can head on home.”

“Last one to the car washes the dishes!” Janie hollered before tearing off across the grass.

I bolted after her, dust kicking up behind my shoes.

⸻

Harris Household || 6:00

By the time we got home and washed up, the sticky heat was replaced with the cool relief of soap and clean clothes. I tied my hair up and joined Momma in the kitchen to help with dinner.

As I stirred the greens, she looked over at me with that sly smile.

“So…what’s happening between you and preacher boy?”

I ducked my head, trying not to grin. “Nothing, Momma. We’re just friends.”

She smacked her teeth. “Mmhmm. I said the same thing about your daddy when we was y’all’s age.”

I looked up at her, laughing softly. My daddy was the son of a preacher, too. And wouldn’t you know it, his best friend back then? My momma.

“I see the way you look at him,” she said, passing me the cornbread batter.

“It’s adorable.”

I shook my head, cheeks warm, and slid the cornbread into the oven. Then I started setting the table, trying to shake the butterflies fluttering in my stomach.

Just as I placed the last fork down, there was a knock at the front door.

I froze.

⸻

There was a knock at the door—just one, firm and polite. Not rushed or nervous. I knew exactly who it was.

Momma gave me a look, one eyebrow raised. “Well? You just gon’ stand there or open the door?”

I wiped my hands on my apron and hurried to the front, heart tapping fast against my ribs. When I opened the door, there he stood—preacher boy, looking a little too clean in his Sunday shirt, his hands tucked behind his back like he had something to hide.

His daddy was behind him, talking to mine already on the porch, their voices low and friendly.

“Evenin’, Miss Evie,” he said, grinning brightly.

“Evenin’,” I said back, matching his smile without even meaning to. “You clean up nice.”

He chuckled, rocking back on his heels. “You say that like I don’t always.”

“You don’t,” I said, arms crossed. “Sometimes you show up lookin’ like you wrestled a hay bale.”

“And won,” he added, bold as ever.

I rolled my eyes and stepped aside to let him in. The house was filled with that good home-cooked smell—greens simmering, cornbread baking, fried chicken fresh out the skillet. He gave a polite nod to Momma, who gave him a playful side-eye like she knew what was going on even before I did.

Dinner passed with the usual chatter and laughter. Janie Mae insisted on sitting right next to him, even fed him a bite of her sweet potatoes like she was showing him off. Daddy and Reverend Greene talked long, and Momma kept sending me looks across the table every time preacher boy said something sweet or looked my way too long.

After the dishes were cleared and Janie Mae was begging for seconds on peach cobbler, Daddy told me to “go sit out a while and let your food settle.”

So we stepped out on the porch with two bowls of cobbler and a sky full of stars above us. The air had cooled just enough to feel like a real summer night.

He sat beside me on the swing, spoon digging into his bowl.

“So,” he said between bites, “you hear about what Smoke and Stack got goin’ on?”

I raised an eyebrow. “If this is about that juke joint, I ain’t going.”

He looked mildly offended. “What? Cmon Evie you gotta go! You know I ain’t gone go without you.”

“Mmmhm. I bet.”

He shook his head, laughing. “I’m serious!” he said, glancing over at me, “what fun is goin’ without you?”

I looked at him sideways, hiding a smile. “You tryin’ to ask me to sneak out?”

He shrugged, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Not sayin’ we gotta sneak. Just sayin’… music, dancing, a bit of drinking… sounds better with you there.”

I scoffed lightly, but my heart was doing flips. “Boy, you really think you slick, don’t you?”

He leaned in just a little, voice low and playful. “Only with you.”

We sat in a warm, quiet kind of silence after that, spoons scraping softly against bowls. The swing creaked under us, and somewhere down the road a dog barked once, then quieted.

“I’ll think about it,” I said finally, licking the last of the cobbler from my spoon. And I could’ve sworn from the corner of my eye, he watched as I did.

He didn’t say nothin’ at first—just smiled, like he already knew I would.

I sighed giving in. “Alright.” I smiled side eyeing him.

He nudged me smiling. “I’d knew you say yes.”

I rolled my eyes. “Give me some time to get ready, and once everyone is in bed I’ll sneak out.”

He kissed my cheek and my face heated up. My lord, can he stop with the kisses!

“Lemme take your bowl for you.” I handed him my bowl and he got up going inside, and I watched as he did. And you know what I saw? My daddy looking at me his eyebrow raised and a slight smirk on his face.

Mr. Moore and my dad hugged bye and told preacher boy to head on out so they can go home, he came out the house and walked down the porch steps glancing my way once more.

I think it was his way of saying. “Don’t forget, and be discreet!”

I shook my head smiling to myself and he smiled once more before turning walking with his dad.

⸻

Later that night, the house was quiet. Daddy had fallen asleep in his chair, the soft rumble of his snores drifting down the hallway. Janie Mae was tucked up in bed, one arm thrown over her stuffed rabbit. And Momma? She was humming low, folding laundry in the back room with the door mostly closed.

I stared at my bedroom ceiling for what felt like hours, heart pounding louder than it had on the porch swing.

Was I really about to do this?

I slipped out of bed and tiptoed across the floor, easing the window open slow as molasses. The breeze felt cooler now, brushing against my face like a secret. I’d already changed into a simple cotton dress—not too fancy, but not plain either—and tied my hair back with a little red ribbon.

“Lord, forgive me,” I whispered, one leg out the window. “This boy gon’ be the death of me.”

I dropped down lightly and crept across the yard, heels in my hand until I made it to the edge of the trees where he said he’d wait.

And there he was—leaning against a tree like he’d been born to look reckless and fine at the same time. He looked up the second he heard me.

Hands in his pockets, looking up at the stars like he wasn’t nervous at all. When he heard my footsteps, he turned around—and the way his face lit up, Lord, you would’ve thought he was lookin’ at the Fourth of July sky itself.

“I didn’t think you’d really come,” he said, voice soft and a little amazed.

I huffed, pretending like it wasn’t a big deal. “Don’t get used to it.”

But before I could say anything else, he smiled wide and said, “You look like a whole dream, Evie.”

I tried to look unimpressed. Failed miserably.

“Boy, hush,” I mumbled, heat creeping up my neck.

“I’m serious,” he said, stepping closer, that little crooked grin working its usual magic. “You prettier than anything I ever prayed for.”

I looked away quick, pretending to check the road, but my heart was doing somersaults inside my chest.

He offered his hand out, palm up.

“Come on. It ain’t but a little walk down the road. Music’s already playin’, and I ain’t about to miss dancin’ with you.”

I sighed loud, rolling my eyes just for show. “A little walk?” I teased, slipping my hand into his. “In this heat, it’s gon’ feel like a long one.”

He laughed low, squeezing my fingers gentle. “I’ll carry you if you melt.”

I shook my head, smiling despite myself. “You better not drop me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

I stared at our jointed hands for a second longer than I should’ve. I thought about Momma, about how wrong it was to sneak out like this. Thought about the preacher’s boy and all the ways he was no good for a girl trying to stay outta trouble.

But then I thought about how he looked at me like I hung the stars myself.

I sighed, real dramatic, just to save face. Then I placed my hand in his.

His fingers laced through mine, sure and gentle at the same time. He grinned like Christmas came early.

We walked along the dirt road, the moonlight catching on the dust beneath our feet. Up ahead, we could already hear the hum of music—smooth, low, and alive. Smoke and Stack’s juke joint sat just past the edge of town, glowing warm with yellow light and laughter spilling from the open doors.

Club Juke || 7:00

The place was lit up, l squinted a bit seeing cornbread guarding the door as we walked closer.

Cornbread’s face lit up. “Ain’t no way. Little miss Evie! Can’t believe you done let him drag you here.”

I chuckled. “He ain’t drag me here Cornbread, I came on my own free will.”

Cornbread smiling, shaking his head in disbelief. “Yall come on in.”

The place was vibrant, everyone dancing and drinking. Some people eating and talking each other’s ears off, laughing so loudly it was impossible not to feel caught up in the energy.

“You gone sing tonight?” I turned to him, scanning his features—his jawline, his smile, the way his lips curved when he spoke. No, Evelyn. Control yourself.

And then he looked at me, and there was something in his eyes—something I’d never seen before. It wasn’t just the playful teasing. It was… different. A little deeper. Focus.

“Of course I’m gone sing tonight,” he said, the tone of his voice almost too confident.

God, his lips. No. No, I warned myself. But still, they looked so… plump, and the things he could probably do with those lips…

“Evie!” He called out, his voice cutting through the music.

“Hm? What?” I snapped my gaze away from his lips, suddenly aware of how stupid I must look.

He chuckled, his eyebrows furrowing just enough to show he noticed something was off. “You alright?”

I swallowed nervously, trying to keep my cool. “Uh, yeah, course’ I’m okay. Why?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Cause I asked you twice what you wanted to drink.”

Oh. Right. I blinked, realizing I hadn’t even heard him the first time, too busy distracted by… well, him.

“Uh… um,” I fumbled for the words. “You got whiskey?”

“Whiskey? I thought you were a wine girl.”

I shrugged, trying to act like my sudden increase in heart rate had nothing to do with the proximity between us. “I’m feeling adventurous tonight.”

His grin widened, and I swear he looked at me like he knew exactly what was going on in my head. “I’ll get you something strong, then.”

As he turned to walk toward the bar, I could’ve sworn I saw him give me one last look, one that made my pulse skip a beat. I leaned against the nearest table, mentally cursing myself. Get it together, Evelyn. You can handle this.

But I wasn’t sure anymore. Not with him looking at me like that.

A couple moments later I see Preacher boy talking to someone, she’s beautiful as ever. Her skin glistened and she had the prettiest smile ever. I walked over to them.

“Hi.” I said awkwardly. Preacher boy handed me my drink. “Shoot, I’m sorry Evie, didn’t mean to have you waiting so long.”

“It’s okay, really.” And the woman looked over to me.

“You must be Evie, it’s nice to meet you.” Her voice silky smooth. I nodded. “I am and its nice to meet you…” I cut off.

“Pearline.” The woman said smiling softly. I smiled back. “It’s nice to meet you Pearline, are you gone sing tonight as well?”

She shrugged. “Maybe.’’ And then looked back to Preacher boy, giving him a look and then back at me.

“Do you sing Evie?” She asked politely.

“God no, my singing is terrible, I do write though.” I laughed and so did she.

“Really? Well I’d love to read some of your songs one day.” She smiled and I smiled back.

“Well you two enjoy your night, and again it was nice metting you.” She smiled softly, glancing at preacher boy before walking way.

“Sooo…she seems to like you.” I said to him as he watched her walk away. I scoffed, shaking my head. And then he turned to me.

“What?” He asked and then he realized. “Oh. Cmon now Evie.”

“You obviously seem to like her, I don’t want to interfere with y’all little thing you got goin on.” The jealousy oozing out of my tone.

“She’s married, and why do you care Evie. I-I mean we’re best friends…” He look conflicted. Confused as to what to do or even say.

“And let me guess when she told you she was married your response was…?” I wait for him to finish the sentence and he sighed looking away before looking at me.

“Happily…” He drawled off a bit.

“Happily.” I nodded my head. “Wow, so what you get a little feeling going on in your little.. thing down there and try to get with a married woman?!” I was disgusted.

“She ain’t say she was happily married! And who said anything about “it” being little?!” He tried to defend himself and then realized how absolutely stupid he sounded.

I shook my head, gulping down my whiskey. “Have a fun night with Pearline, who by the way is married!” I began to walk away and he grabbed my wrist.

“Boy if you don’t let go—“ he cut me off.

“You’re gonna what? Really Evie. Just let me—” He responded. Now he’s testing my patience.

“I’ll punch you so fucking hard in your throat that by time you go up and try to sing in front of all these people, you wont even be able to say the damn words coming out your mouth. Now let me go.” I said seriously look him in the eye and he so he did.

And I walked away, I then bumped into someone. Stack. “Woah, my bad you alrigh—“ before he could even finish the sentence he finally realized who I was. “Ain’t no goddamn way, Evie?” He said surprised.

“Hey stack.” I smiled softly and then he hugged me tightly before pulling back. “Whatchu doing here?” He asked.

“I’m here with preacher boy, but he done just pissed me off so I’m avoiding him now.” I looked around a bit before looking back at him.

Stack sighed. ‘’What’d he do?” He asked.

“Tried to get with a married woman.” I stated.

“She happily married?” He asked and my jaw dropped. Now I see where he gets it from.

“And this conversation is now over.” I walked away.

“Wait Evie- damn.” He sighed before walking away as well.

A couple minutes go by, and through the crowd, I catch sight of Preacher Boy, standing there with his guitar, introducing himself. The twins are leaning against two different pillars, just opposite each other, like they were born to be on opposite sides.

Then he starts singing. And God — his voice. It hit me straight in the chest, like it was made to find every piece of me I didn’t even know was there. You could hear it — how much he loved it, how much he needed it.

I remember this one afternoon, helping Momma with the laundry, and looking out to see him on the porch, guitar in his lap, singing soft to my little sister like she was the whole world. That was the day I fell for him. That was the day I knew I didn’t just want him as my best friend — I wanted all of him.

He played like the guitar was stitched into his bones, like the music was the only language he’d ever learned how to speak.

In that moment, it didn’t matter how many summers we’d spent side by side, or how many times I’d laughed at his dumb jokes — it was different now. It was like seeing him for the very first time, and knowing, without a doubt, my heart was already his.

Everyone was dancing — spinning and swaying under the string lights, laughter thick in the air — but I couldn’t move. I was rooted there, holding my breath like if I blinked, he might disappear.

The last note hung in the air for a second, trembling, before it disappeared into the noise of clapping and laughter.

I was still standing there, heart pounding, when he found me.

He pushed through the crowd without thinking, without waiting, like he couldn’t get to me fast enough. And then he was there, grabbing my hand, holding on like he was afraid I’d run.

“Please,” he said, voice low and rough, “please let me explain.”

The music was still ringing in my ears, the lights spinning around us, but none of it mattered. Just him, just that look in his eyes — desperate, scared, like whatever he had to say was the only thing keeping him standing.

He dragged me to a room and closed the door so we can talk.

“Ain’t nothing to talk about.” I said plainly as he closed the door behind him and then turned to me.

“I don’t want Pearline, Evie.” He stated plainly. Holding eye contact with me. His voice heavy, like he wholeheartedly meant that.

But.. I don’t know the way he looked at her even if he was for a slit second.

“I know what you’re thinking okay? The way I looked at her right? You think based off of that I would want her?” I looked down at my feet.

“Cmon Eve, don’t do that talk to me please.” He stepped closer and I looked back up at him.

I might be delusional or crazy, but I know what I saw — the way he looked at her, even if it was just for a second.

He stepped closer, real slow, like he didn’t wanna spook me. Like he was reading my thoughts.

“You ain’t crazy, Evie,” he said, voice low and thick. “But you got it twisted.”

I crossed my arms, trying to hold myself together.

“Twisted how?” I asked, even though I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear the answer.

He let out this shaky breath and looked me dead in the eye.

“It’s always been you. I just—” his voice cracked a little, and he scrubbed a hand down his face. “I got scared, Evie. Thought maybe… maybe you didn’t feel the same. Thought if I looked at somebody else, even for a second, it’d hurt less if you didn’t want me back.”

I blinked, heart pounding so loud I couldn’t hear anything else.

“That’s real stupid,” I muttered, voice breaking.

He gave this half-broken laugh, stepping even closer, close enough I could feel every shaky breath he took.

“Yeah. It was real stupid,” he said, eyes never leaving mine. “I only want you, Evie. Been wantin’ you. Just too much of a fool to say it right.”

He stepped closer, his hand reaching out like he didn’t even realize he was doing it.

“Evie,” he said, voice low and rough, “can I—can I just show you how much I want you?”

It wasn’t smooth. It wasn’t planned. It was messy and real, like he was scared if he didn’t say it now, he’d never get the chance.

I didn’t move. I couldn’t. I just stared at him, feeling my heart beat so loud it hurt.

“I ain’t tryna mess this up. I just—” he bit down on the words like they hurt coming out, “I need you to know. I need you to feel it. ‘Cause talkin’ ain’t enough no more.”

He was breathing hard now, like it took everything he had to stand there and not just grab me and show me anyway.

“Tell me no if you don’t want this,” he said, voice cracking a little. “But if you do… Evie, just—just let me.”

I nodded, almost mindlessly, cupping his face and kissing him. He didn’t hesitate — his lips against mine were desperate, hungry, and soon his hands found their place on my waist, gently guiding me back until I was up against the table. My breath hitched as his kiss deepened, and just when I thought I couldn’t take any more, he pulled away, his forehead resting against mine.

“W-why’d you pull away?” I whispered, breathless, trying to catch my breath as I looked up at him.

He looked into my eyes, the intensity of his gaze almost overwhelming, and then glanced down at my lips before meeting my eyes again.

“I wanna try something,” he said, his voice thick with need, and I felt a rush of heat spread through me.

Before I could respond, I felt my dress being gently lifted. My hand shot out instinctively, landing on his wrist.

“Wait—”

“We walked all the way here, let me freshen up first—” I started, but he cut me off, pushing me back just a little so I was sitting on the edge of the table.

I looked up at him, my heart hammering in my chest, trying to steady myself. And then he slowly, almost reverently, dropped to his knees in front of me.

Damn. The sight of him like that — it made my breath catch in my throat.

“You don’t need to…” he started, his eyes were full of something so deep, so raw, and I couldn’t find the strength to finish my sentence.

He lifted my dress higher, his lips trailing up my inner thighs, sending shivers of anticipation through me.

“Preacher boy…” I whispered softly, feeling my chest tighten.

He stopped, looking up at me with a question in his eyes. He wasn’t rushing me, but he was waiting, waiting for me to make the next move.

“Are you sure?” His voice was barely a whisper, but I could hear the uncertainty in it, the care.

I nodded, my pulse pounding in my ears. “Are you sure?” I asked, my voice small, but filled with the same intensity.

He looked at me, his eyes searching mine like he needed to know for sure. Then, with a slow, deep breath, he spoke again.

“Evelyn, you’re beautiful. I just wanna taste you…”

And that was it. The words unlocked something in me. I wanted this. I needed this.

He gently pulled my bloomers down. I was already swollen and wet; and when he nudged my legs open—he was rewarded by the beautiful sight of my glistening arousal, his touch light but sure, and before i could even think, he didn’t waste a second.

I gasped as I felt his mouth on my clit, sucking softly. I immediately let out a soft moan. And once he heard that, he knew… he was on the right path. He lapped at my vulva with such hunger, such desire.

His hands caress my thighs as he continued, he didn’t stop not once. “O-oh shit.” I moaned my eyebrows furrowed. My breathing a bit heavy—I lifted up my dress so I can watch him and I saw his eyes open as he looked up at me and didn’t look away not once.

“Feels so good, d-don’t stop please.” My toes curled as I threw my head back moaning loudly. I quickly covered my mouth with the hand that was on his head. He took one of his hands off my thigh and brought it up to my wrist shaking his head, and he quickly came up to talk.

“Don’t do that, I wanna hear you.” His breathing heavy.

“What if someone hears?” I asked worriedly. He shook his head again.

“Don’t even worry about that.” He went back to devouring me, as if it were a meal I moaned loudly.

“P-preacher boy.. S-Sammie.” I gasped softly shutting my eyes as I moaned in immense pleasure.

Before I closed them I could’ve sworn his eyes lit up at me using his actual name. I opened them again to see his still looking up at me. My goodness, I never knew my best friend was like this.

“I-I don’t want anyone to hear!” I whimpered. As my hand stayed on his head. He lifted his head up again.

“Evie, all you need you worry about is how good my mouth feels. Alright? Don’t think about nothing else. Just focus on this baby.” I melted. I always imagined how baby would sound coming out his mouth, and my imagination certainly lived up to it.

He went right back to what he was doing, and I could feel everything he was doing. The kissing, the moans and groans against me, the sucking.

Why is he so damn good at this?

He put my legs around his shoulders and gently pulled me to the edge of the table, the angle of which he’s tasting me at now a greater feeling.

My moans progressed louder and louder. “Fuck, preacher boy!” I whined. “O-oh my God.” I cried out.

I feel my stomach tighten. “O-oh baby—.” My eyes rolled to the back of my head. “I-I’m gonna—.” Before I could even finish my sentence my body shuddered.

My eyes closing tightly as I did so, I laid back— letting the after shock take place.

I leaned up a bit, seeing preacher boy kiss my thighs gently. “You okay?” He asked, his eyebrows furrowed slightly.

I nodded, my mind a bit hazy. I took a couple seconds to gather myself before speaking and sat up.

“Where the hell did you learn how to do that?” I asked and he chuckled.

“Just now.” He stated.

Funny. Really funny. It actually made me laugh, I saw him chuckle a bit but then realized he was serious.

“Oh you’re serious? Forreal?” I asked in a shocked tone.

“Yeah, forreal.” He licked his lips and laughed. “You think I just go around and… do this to other woman?”

“I mean—.” He cut me off.

“Evie!” He called out in disbelief, chuckling a bit.

“Okay okay no, i just—you’d think with.. how well you did that just now you’d have actual experience..” I shrugged and then suddenly an idea popped up in my head.

“I wanna try something now too.” I said in a sultry tone.

And then he bit his lip gently, looking down at my lips quickly then at my eyes. “Yeah? Whatchu wanna try?”

Boy, do I love his voice.

I pulled him forward by his belt buckle. Slowly unbuckling it. He looked down at what I was doing then back up at me.

“You sure?” He asked watching my expression.

“You just ate my pussy out… and you gone ask me if I’m sure?” I said in a questioning tone.

I can’t believe I just said that but the look on his face made it worth saying.

I unbuckled his belt, and then unbuttoned his pants. They immediately dropped down to the floor.

He immediately pulled down his boxer shorts and his pants pooling at his ankles.

My eyes widened slightly at the size of his cock and I looked back up at him to see him smiling a bit before laughing a little.

“If you don’t think you can handle it let me know now.” He joked, still smiling.

“Ha ha…let me ask you something.” I stared him dead in his eyes.

“I’m listening.” He responded as he waited for my question.

“How long you been wanting to fuck me Sammie?” I said. It was as if it wasn’t even me talking, like I had some sort of alter ego.

“Damn evie why you gotta talk like that?” He moaned gently as my hand reached over to stroke his cock. My fingers brushed against the sensitive underside of his flushed head.

“A couple weeks, months, a year or two?” I continued to stroke his cock and he moaned desperately, his eyes shut tight and he leaned his head forward on my shoulder.

“Want me to keep touching you Iike this or are you gone fuck me?” I whispered in his ear then kissed it gently.

He moaned again before he kissed my neck and I moved his cock closer to my folds. Slowly slipping his cock inside me, I gasped loudly as I put my hand on his stomach. He looked at me a bit worried.

“You good?” He asked, his hand gently cupping my cheek, his eyes searching mine like he was making sure I was all there.

I nodded, my voice soft but clear. “Yeah, I’m good… just, start slow, alright?” He gave me a reassuring smile, nodding before he leaned down, pressing a slow, languid kiss to my lips.

His kiss was soft, tender, and I melted into him, feeling the heat of his body pressing against mine. The way he kissed me, like he was taking his time, made my heart race, my body burning for more, but I wasn’t rushing. Not yet.

“Anything you need, baby,” he murmured against my lips, his hand sliding down to my waist, pulling me closer.

I could feel the tension building between us, but I didn’t want him to rush. Not now. “Just be with me,” I whispered, my hands sliding up to his chest, feeling the heat of his skin. “Don’t hold back, but don’t rush it either.”

He nodded again, the intensity in his gaze not wavering as he slowly deepened the kiss, his tongue brushing against mine in a way that had me shivering. The heat of his body, the slow slide of his hands, everything about him felt right — it was like he knew exactly what I needed, exactly how to touch me, how to make me feel alive in his arms.

He pulled back just enough to look at me again, his hand resting on my hip. “You tell me if you need me to stop,” he said, his voice low, like he was trying to keep it steady even though I could see the hunger in his eyes. “And I will okay?.”

I nodded, feeling the knot in my stomach tighten as I pressed closer to him, my hands running up his neck, pulling him back into another kiss.

He then broke the kiss, sinking inside me. He let out a moan and I let out a gasp. He began thrusting slowly, letting me get the feel of him and then he stopped. “I’m okay..you can move.” And so he did.

His forehead pressed against mine, our breaths tangled in the space between us as he moved inside me — slow, deep thrusts that made my whole body ache for him. Every roll of his hips dragged a soft whimper from my throat, and he swallowed the sound with a kiss, slow and messy and desperate.

“You feel so fuckin’ good,” he muttered against my mouth, his voice cracked open, raw. His hands roamed everywhere — down my sides, gripping my hips, smoothing up my thighs — like he couldn’t decide where he needed to touch me most.

I shifted towards the edge of the table to him, tilting my hips to take him deeper, and the way he groaned low in his chest made my toes curl.

I moaned low, tilting my hips up to meet his rhythm, and that groan he let out? Almost made me forget how to breathe. “You ain’t stoppin’, right?” I whispered, my nails dragging down his back, feeling the muscle shift under my touch.

He looked down at me, eyes dark and heavy. “You wanna feel all of me, don’t you?” he rasped, his pace slow but deep, hitting places inside me that made everything inside me tighten. “Tell me you can take it.”

“Yeah,” I breathed, barely able to hold on, my body wanting more, needing more. “I can take all of you.”

He kissed me harder, his rhythm stuttering for a second before he found it again, a slow, grinding pace that made heat coil tight and heavy between my legs. His thumb brushed up my ribs, just under my breast, and he buried his face in my neck like he needed to catch his breath.

“Fuck evie,” he breathed against my skin, each word hot and broken. “ Shit baby.” He moaned lowly in my ear.

I arched against him, clutching him closer, every nerve in my body tuned to the way he moved, the way he filled me up and dragged me closer to the edge with every deep, aching stroke.

And when I looked up at him — at the way his eyes burned into mine, at the way his mouth fell open on a low, desperate moan — I knew he was right there with me, every second, every heartbeat, lost in it too.

His thrusts grew faster, more desperate, and I could barely keep up with the way my body was reacting. The pressure inside me was building, every nerve singing with the need for release.

“Still think it’s little?” he teased again, his voice rough with desire, but I couldn’t form a response.

I was lost in the feeling of him, in the way he moved inside me, in the way his hands gripped my body, pulling me closer to him with each deep stroke.

And all I could do was moan — the sound slipping out of me uncontrollably, my head spinning with the overwhelming sensation. The world outside of us didn’t exist anymore. There was only him, only this, and the way he was driving me insane with every move.

He groaned, his pace relentless, and I could feel the way his body tensed, like he was holding on to the last thread of control. I couldn’t keep up — I was too far gone, too lost in the sensation, my whole body shuddering as my moans became louder, more desperate.

The sound of our skin slapping together echoed in the room, each deep thrust of his driving me closer to the edge. His rhythm was relentless, his pace picking up as he grew desperate, like he couldn’t get enough of me — like he needed me this way.

Every movement was met with the wet, desperate noises of our bodies colliding, the slickness of it making everything feel even more intense, more real. The air around us was thick with the sounds of it — the rhythm of his thrusts, the slick, audible slide of skin against skin, the way my breath came out in short, desperate gasps.

His grip tightened on my hips, pulling me closer, forcing me to take him deeper with each thrust. The pressure inside me built higher and higher, my body trembling with every stroke. I couldn’t hold back the moans, the sounds spilling out of me as I was consumed by the feeling of him — his hands on me, the hard, fast rhythm, the way he made every inch of me burn.

I could feel it — every wet, slippery drag of him inside me, every heated breath against my neck, the way his cock filled me completely. And all I could do was moan, the sound spilling from my lips uncontrollably, my body shaking with the overwhelming pleasure.

he stuffs me full of his cock; pushing himself so deeply that he feels the stretch of me gaping around him.

The noise of it, the sound of our bodies meeting, grew louder, the wet sounds almost deafening now. It was like the world had faded away, and all that was left was this — him, me, the rhythm of our bodies, the desperation, the need, the way our movements were becoming erratic, broken.

My moans turned high and broken, my body clenching around him so tight I felt him stutter inside me.

“Shiiit… you feel that?” he grunted against my ear, voice ragged. “Grip me like that again.”

I couldn’t even think — my nails dragging down his back, my thighs shaking around his hips. Every time he slammed into me, I felt myself getting closer, that tight, burning coil about to snap.

“Fuck, you bouta come?” he muttered, his hand sliding between us, finding my clit, rubbing messy, fast circles that made me cry out. “Go ‘head then. Let me feel all that.”

His words tipped me right over the edge — my whole body locking up around him, pleasure crashing through me so hard I almost sobbed. I clutched at him, trembling, gasping his name as my orgasm hit.

His strokes got rougher, more ragged, until he pulled out at the last second, thick, hot drops spilling across my stomach with a broken groan against my neck.

Both of us were left panting, skin slick with sweat, the whole room smelling like sex.

He stayed over me for a second, forehead pressed to mine, still catching his breath. His hands never stopped touching — smoothing over my sides, tracing lazy lines down my thighs like he didn’t wanna let go yet.

“You okay…it wasn’t too much?” he murmured against my skin, voice softer now, almost tender.

I shook my head. “It was amazing.” I smiled softly, and so did he. He kissed my neck softly and then my shoulder still catching his breath. “Hold up, baby,” he mumbled against my skin.

eyes scanning the room — and that’s when he spotted it. A crate of clean white rags shoved in the corner, like somebody had just left ‘em there.

he crossed the room, grabbed one, and came right back to me. Kneeling in front of me again. His hands were gentle as he cleaned me up, gliding over my skin, making sure I felt cared for, even after everything. His touch stayed careful, almost tender, wiping me up slow, making sure he wasn’t hurting me even though I was still twitchy and sensitive.

“I got you,” he muttered under his breath, working real gentle between my thighs, like he was tryna soothe me at the same time.

I whimpered again, body jerking a little, and he paused, dragging the back of his knuckles down my thigh, soft.

He finished cleaning me up, his movements gentle and deliberate. His hand lingered on my skin for a moment longer than necessary, like he was still trying to take everything in. When he was done, he looked up at me, his gaze soft but filled with that quiet intensity.

“Think you can walk?” he asked, his voice low but caring, as if checking in with me. “Or you need a minute?”

I took a deep breath, nodding slowly. “I’m good,” I whispered, still feeling the warmth spread through my body. But I was steadying myself, ready to stand again. “Just… give me a second.”

He didn’t push me, his hands steady as he helped me adjust. He reached for my bloomers, carefully pulling them up over my legs before fixing my dress, smoothing it down with practiced hands. I couldn’t help but notice how gentle he was, even in the aftermath, as if he wasn’t in any hurry to move on from this moment yet.

Once my dress was in place, he pulled his boxer shorts up, then his pants, taking his time to adjust himself, his movements more relaxed now.

He glanced at me once he was done, checking in again, his eyes soft. “You okay?”

I nodded, straightening up, feeling more in control. “Yeah,” I said quietly, still processing the intensity of it all. “I’m good.”

He gave me a small nod, the air between us settling into something unspoken but understood. He opened the door for me, the light from the hallway spilling into the room. As I stepped past him, I felt his presence close behind me, like he was there, holding onto the moment we’d just shared.

The sound of voices from outside the room reminded us that the world was still out there, waiting.

He gave a brief glance toward the hallway, then back to me. “Ready?” His voice was steady, but there was a quiet warmth there — like he was asking if I was truly ready for whatever came next.

I met his gaze, nodding. “Yeah, let’s go. Before they come looking for you.”

We stepped into the hallway, the moment between us still lingering in the air, both of us aware that the night was far from over. The quiet connection between us, the weight of everything that had happened, was still heavy, but neither of us said anything more. We didn’t need to.

The night was only just beginning.

[romcomfeinnn]

This right here is amazing !!!!