he makes music like he doesn’t expect to be understood, she listens like it’s the only thing keeping her here.
song that fits this (listen to it while reading) =
new york city, 2:17am. the bodega lights buzzed behind her like tired insects. valetria marisol cruz pushed the door open with her shoulder, the little bell jingling once before the humid night swallowed it. plastic bag crinkled in her hand—some off-brand chips, arizona tea, and a pack of gum she probably wouldn’t chew. headphones sat loose over her ears, jaydes murmuring low enough that the lyrics felt like they were leaking straight into her bloodstream instead of the air.
she stepped onto the sidewalk and the city breathed around her, distant sirens and a car horn somewhere blocks away. her thoughts were fuzzy at the edges tonight, not loud, just... elsewhere. the kind of disconnected where everything felt a little underwater but still okay. calm, almost.
until she almost walked straight into him.
he was just standing there, hands in the front pocket of his black hoodie, back against the brick wall like he’d been part of the building for a while. jayden yen dumont. jaydes. she knew the face even before her brain caught up. same sharp jaw, same tired eyes that always looked like they’d seen too much at once. he didn’t move when she stopped short, just lifted his gaze slow.
for a second neither of them said anything.
valetria’s fingers tightened around the plastic bag. the headphones slipped a little. she could still hear the beat, faint and warped. she recognized him—how could she not—but the words didn’t come. they never did right away. her mind was already spinning a little, that familiar static buzzing behind her eyes, mixing with the low thrum of something heavier she’d been carrying all week.
he noticed her noticing. his shoulders shifted, barely. not tense, not relaxed. just... there.
“didn’t mean to be in the way,” he said finally. voice low, rough around the edges like he hadn’t used it in hours. maybe days.
she blinked. pulled one side of the headphones off her ear. “you weren’t.”
silence again. the kind that stretched. a crumpled wrapper skittered across the sidewalk from the breeze. she glanced at it, then back at him. he was looking at her like he was trying to decide if she was real or just another flicker in his head. she knew that look. felt it in her own chest sometimes.
jaydes rubbed the back of his neck. “you always out this late?”
“sometimes.” her voice came out quieter than she meant. “helps when everything else is too loud.”
he nodded once, slow. like he got it. or maybe he was just pretending. both felt possible.
valetria shifted her weight. the bag crinkled again. she wanted to say more but the words tangled up somewhere between her throat and her thoughts. instead she just stood there, letting the humid air press between them, thick and unspoken. his eyes lingered a second longer than they should’ve. not in a weird way. just... heavy. like he saw the static in her too.
she almost smiled. didn’t.
“alright,” she muttered, more to herself than him. she started to step past.
“valetria.”
she paused. turned her head just enough.
he was still watching her. “take care of yourself out here.”
she gave a small nod. the kind that didn’t promise anything. then she kept walking, headphones sliding back into place, jaydes’ voice filling her ears again like some quiet echo of the boy she just left behind on the sidewalk.
neither of them looked back.
but something had already shifted in the 2am silence. small. messy. real. like the first crack in something neither of them was ready to name yet.
a few minutes later..
she made it half a block before her steps slowed. the plastic bag swung heavier in her grip now, like it had gained weight in the last thirty seconds. jaydes’ voice—his real one, not the one in her headphones—kept replaying in her head, low and scratchy. take care of yourself. simple shit. but it landed somewhere soft and bruised inside her chest.
behind her, she heard footsteps. not fast. not chasing. just... following. she didn’t turn around right away. her mind was already doing that thing, picking apart the silence, wondering if she imagined the whole thing. sometimes she did. sometimes the voices and the thoughts blurred the lines so bad she couldn’t tell what was real until it hurt.
but when she finally glanced over her shoulder, he was there. hands still in his hoodie, shoulders hunched against the humid night. he caught her looking and lifted one hand in a half-shrug, like yeah, it’s me, don’t freak out.
valetria stopped under a flickering streetlight. the buzzing matched the static in her skull.
“you following me now?” she asked. no accusation. just tired curiosity.
jaydes slowed to a stop a few feet away. “not really. same direction, i guess.” he paused, eyes flicking to the cracked sidewalk between them. “or maybe i am. shit’s confusing tonight.”
she let out a small breath that might’ve been a laugh. her fingers twisted the headphone cord. the song had ended but she left them on anyway, like armor. “confusing how?”
he shrugged again, deeper this time. the kind that said everything and nothing. “been walking for hours. brain won’t shut up. saw you come out and... i don’t know. felt like the universe was being less of a dick for once.”
valetria looked at him properly then. the dim light cut shadows under his eyes. he looked like he hadn’t slept in days, same as her. that heavy, wired exhaustion that came with the moods swinging and the thoughts screaming and the depression sitting on your ribs like wet cement. she knew it too well.
“i get that,” she said quietly. “the universe being a dick part.”
they stood there for another stretch of silence. a cab rolled by slow, tires hissing on the damp street. neither of them moved. she could feel her pulse in her ears, a little too loud, the bipolar edge making everything sharper and duller at the same time. part of her wanted to bolt. the other part—the lonely, aching part that didn’t get close to people anymore—wanted to stay in this weird little pocket of 2am with him.
jaydes shifted his weight. “your music. it was me, right? jaydes.”
she nodded, cheeks warming a little. “yeah. helps sometimes. when the rest of it gets too loud.”
he looked down, a faint, crooked half-smile pulling at his mouth. “that’s... weirdly nice to hear.”
“don’t let it go to your head.”
“too late.”
another pause. this one felt less awkward. heavier, but softer around the edges. like they were both testing the water without wanting to admit it. valetria’s thoughts flickered—flashes of paranoia mixing with something warmer she couldn’t name. she pushed them down. not tonight. not right now.
“i’m valetria,” she said, even though he already knew. “most people call me val.”
“jayden. but you already know that too.” he rubbed the back of his neck again. “jaydes when i’m... whatever this is.”
she adjusted the bag in her hand. “you live around here?”
“few blocks over. you?”
“same.”
they started walking again. not together exactly, but side by side. slow. the city hummed around them—distant traffic, a siren winding down blocks away, the occasional rustle of trash in the gutter. their shoulders almost brushed once. neither pulled away.
“you ever feel like the night’s the only time shit makes sense?” he asked after a minute.
valetria nodded, staring at the cracked pavement ahead. “yeah. everything’s quieter. even when it’s not.” her voice dropped. “my head’s never quiet, though. you know?”
jaydes exhaled through his nose. “yeah. i know.”
they didn’t say much more. just walked. the silence between them felt full now, not empty. messy and human and a little broken, like both of them. when they reached the corner where the street split, they stopped again.
valetria looked at him. really looked. the way his eyes held hers a second too long, the subtle tremor in his fingers when he pulled his hood back a little. she felt it too—that pull. dangerous. soft. terrifying.
“guess this is where we go different ways,” she said.
“guess so.” he lingered. “see you around, val?”
she swallowed. “maybe.”
he gave her that crooked almost-smile again and turned down his street. she watched him for a second, then kept going, the plastic bag crinkling, headphones still half-on.
the night felt a little less heavy. or maybe it was just starting to crush them both in a new way. either way, something had begun. small. real. unspoken.
and neither of them was ready for how deep it was gonna cut.
“one slip turned into something he couldn’t stop.”
✩｡:*•. ━━━━━━ ☆ ━━━━━━ .•*:｡✩
location📍 : autumn's penthouse | westside atlanta | 11;22 pm
liquor had them reckless. empty bottles on the table, music low in the background, laughter bouncing off the walls. autumn leaned back on the couch, sweats hanging low on his hips, eyes half-lidded but sharp whenever they landed on her.
“you drunk as hell,” he muttered, smirking as she stumbled past him.
“so are you,” she shot back, giggling.
she bent over to grab something off the floor—too slow, too playful—and when she looked back, his gaze was locked on the way her body curved, lips tugging into a grin.
“you know what you doin’, huh?” his voice dipped, low and heavy.
before she could answer, he slid behind her, hands gripping her waist. the press of him hard through his sweats made her gasp.
“autumn—”
“shhh,” he hushed, grinding slow against her ass. the friction made her whimper, her body betraying her.
he moved with her bent over, his hips rolling, sweats sliding lower and lower with each push. her breath caught when she felt bare skin against her—hot, heavy, leaking against her.
“fuck…” he groaned, teeth gritting. “i can’t… sh*t feel too good.”
then it happened—sudden, sharp. his dick slipped past the thin barrier, sliding inside before either of them could stop it.
her eyes widened, mouth falling open. the stretch burned, unexpected.
“oh my god—”
autumn froze for a second, chest heaving. “damn… i ain’t even mean to—”
but the way her body clenched around him? he couldn’t pull back.
“shit,” he growled, grip tightening on her waist. “too late now.”
he pushed deeper, slow at first, watching her crumble under the stretch.
her moans spilled out, soft, broken. “autumn… fuck, it’s—”
“yeah, i know,” he cut in, grinding into her harder. “pussy swallowin’ me up.”
his pace grew messy, drunk and desperate, hips snapping into hers until the couch creaked beneath them.
“thought you was just gon’ tease me?” he taunted, pulling her hair back so she had to look at him. “look at you… bent over, takin’ all this dick like you wanted it the whole time.”
her nails clawed the cushion, body rocking as he hit deeper, sweat dripping down his temples.
“fuck, you feel too good,” he groaned, pounding harder, his low sweats barely hanging on. “i ain’t stoppin’ now… you mine tonight.”
her legs shook, body arching as her orgasm snapped through her, moans spilling uncontrollably.
autumn cursed, head falling back, his release spilling inside her raw, filling her up until it dripped down her thighs.
he held her there, breathing heavy, hips still twitching.
“shit…” he muttered, voice rough, kissing the back of her shoulder. “wasn’t no accident after all.”
✩｡:*•. ━━━━━━ ☆ ━━━━━━ .•*:｡✩
𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 🥂
📍 location: autumn’s penthouse west atlanta
time: 10:47 a.m., sunlight leaking through half-closed blinds
✩｡:*•. ━━━━━━ ☆ ━━━━━━ .•*:｡✩
her head pounded. the sunlight slicing through the blinds was too bright, sheets too warm, her body still sticky from the night before. she groaned, rolling over.
autumn was already awake. sitting up against the headboard, phone in hand, blunt tucked between his lips. his sweats rode low, hair messy, eyes bloodshot but sharp when they flicked her way.
“you loud as hell in the morning,” he muttered, smoke curling into the air.
“and you rude as fuck,” she shot back, voice raspy, half-asleep.
he exhaled slow, a smirk tugging his lips. “girl, just go back to sleep. quit all that talkin’.”
she turned, burying her face in the pillow. “make me.”
the room stilled. his phone hit the nightstand with a clack.
“…what you say?” his voice dropped, dangerous.
she peeked up, lips curling. “i said… make me.”
autumn moved fast—hand gripping her ankle, dragging her back under him before she could blink. his weight pressed her into the mattress, sweatpants shoved down, his dick already hard and heavy against her thigh.
“bet,” he muttered, low and dark.
she gasped as he slid in raw, no warning, the stretch making her arch off the sheets.
“fuck—autumn—”
“nah,” he growled, hand wrapping around her throat, pressing her back into the bed. “you wanted me to make you, right? so shut the fuck up and take it.”
his thrusts hit deep, rough, slamming her into the mattress with each snap of his hips. the headboard rattled against the wall, sunlight catching the sweat on his chest as he leaned over her, choking her with one hand, pinning her wrists with the other.
“look at you,” he spat, eyes locked on hers. “moanin’ like you ain’t just tell me to shut up.”
her voice cracked under his grip, eyes rolling back as pleasure drowned her body.
“this dick makin’ you talk different, huh?” he sneered, pounding harder, the sound of skin on skin sharp in the quiet condo. “make me? nah, i made you mine.”
her legs shook, body trembling as his strokes dragged her closer to the edge.
“open your fuckin’ mouth,” he ordered, tightening his grip just enough to make her gasp. “tell me who’s really in charge.”
“y-you—” she whimpered, tears spilling, her orgasm hitting hard enough to make her cry out.
“that’s right,” autumn groaned, hips slamming deeper, chasing his own high. “all mine.”
he buried himself to the hilt, groaning as he spilled inside, hand still gripping her throat, holding her gaze locked with his.
when it was over, he stayed there, breathing hard, sweat dripping onto her chest.
he kissed her jaw, rough and lazy. “next time you tell me make you… don’t think i’ma let you slide.”
hiii babes 💕 this is the start of my trinidad cardona fic “even if.” i’ll be writing all the smut myself so don’t worry 🤭 it’s slow-build for now but the tension gonna EAT. enjoyyy ✝️🐰
✧ warnings / info
• trinidad cardona x y/n (female)
• 2nd/3rd person pov
• mild angst, tension
• backstage meeting
• cheating gf (racist + gold digger)
• smut later in chapter 🤭💕.
• slow burn-ish
• 2017–present timeline
• y/n’s a long-time fan
-
✧ summary
y/n had been a fan since 2017 — just a girl with a playlist and a crush she never said out loud. but after meeting trinidad backstage, she becomes the one person he can’t stop thinking about… even when he shouldn’t.
--
you been a fan of trinidad since like… 2017, back when he first popped out. the crush wasn’t even funny — it was lowkey embarrassing, the type you kept to yourself because nobody would understand how deep it sat.
and now you were really here, actually living in the same world as him instead of just watching from a screen.
four days ago felt unreal — meeting him backstage, shaking his hand, his smile lingering like he actually saw you.
you replayed it nonstop:
the lights, his voice still warm from singing, the way he leaned down a little to hear you because the hallway was loud…
like he cared.
you didn’t expect to see him again.
you especially didn’t expect him to be standing in front of your building now, hood up, hands in pockets, looking like a walking daydream.
trinidad turned at the sound of your steps, and his whole face softened.
“damn… it’s really you.”
his voice sounded even smoother in person.
your brain lagged, heart jumping, words stuck in your throat. you’ve always had trouble speaking right away when you weren’t prepared — your autism made moments like this feel too bright, too fast, too loud inside your chest — but he didn’t rush you.
he just smiled, like he already knew you needed a second.
“i, uh— i didn’t think you’d remember me,” you finally managed.
“why wouldn’t i?” he laughed a little, that soft, boyish grin that hit too hard. “you was the only one back there that actually talked to me like a person.”
that made you look down, heat blooming in your face.
you weren’t good at eye contact, but he didn’t make you feel weird for it. he angled himself slightly so you didn’t feel stared at, giving you space without making it obvious.
“so…” he said gently, “can i chill with you for a bit? i kinda—”
he hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck.
“i been thinking about you.”
your heart dropped straight to the floor.
before you could answer, his phone buzzed. then buzzed again. then again.
he glanced at the screen and instantly tensed.
jennifer.
his girlfriend.
you’d seen her online before — the super white, super “riches to richer” type with blonde extensions too long to be real. expensive makeup, fake sweet voice, designer everything.
she never liked black fans.
and she barely liked trinidad unless he was giving her something.
you didn’t know all the details, but you could tell by the way his jaw tightened every time her name lit up his screen.
“hold on,” he sighed, swiping to answer.
he turned slightly away, voice dropping low.
“what now, jennifer?”
her voice blasted through the speaker — high, nasal, and sharp like she was born yelling at people.
he cut her off.
“where are you? why aren’t you home? trinidad, i’m not playing with you, answer me right—”
“i ain’t gotta check in every second, damn.”
“so you’re with someone, aren’t you? who is she? are you paying for her too?”
his face fell — hurt first, then anger.
“you wildin’. i ain’t even— look, i’ll call you later.”
“NO. YOU’LL CALL ME NOW. AND YOU BETTER SEND ME MONEY TODAY. i need that bag we saw yesterday and—”
he hung up.
right in the middle of her sentence.
you stayed quiet, not wanting to overstep, but he let out a breath like he’d been holding it for months.
“i’m sorry,” he said, shaking his head. “she ain’t usually like that.”
and you knew that was a lie.
you could tell by the tired look in his eyes — the kind of tired you get when you’re the one giving everything and getting nothing back.
you hugged your arms around yourself.
“she… don’t sound nice.”
that made him smile weakly.
“she’s complicated.”
“or just mean,” you mumbled without thinking.
he laughed — like a real laugh — and stepped closer, eyes warm, soft brown like melted sugar.
“you funny, y’know that?”
you didn’t think you were, but you liked the way he said it.
the air shifted then.
he looked at you longer this time, gaze dipping for a second to your lips before snapping back up.
your heartbeat stuttered hard — too hard — the kind of feeling that made your thoughts glitch out for a second.
your schizophrenia sometimes made sensations sharper, heavier — like the world paused around you and only the two of you existed.
but right now, it didn’t feel scary.
it felt… grounding. weirdly safe.
“can i come inside?” he asked quietly.
“just to talk. i promise i ain’t on nothing weird.”
you hesitated — not scared, just overwhelmed.
but he stepped back, giving you room.
“if you don’t want me in there, it’s cool. i just…”
he licked his lips, nervous.
“i wanted to see you again. that’s all.”
your chest tightened.
you unlocked the door.
“you can come in.”
and the second the door closed behind you both, the air felt heavier. warmer. closer.
his eyes kept drifting to you like he couldn’t help it, and your breath caught every time.
you weren’t touching.
not yet.
but the space between you felt like it was shrinking by the second…
and that’s exactly where the trouble starts.
because the moment he steps fully into your living room, that warm little half-smile drops off his face like he forgot how to pretend. he’s just standing there, hands in his pockets, breathing all slow like he’s trying to calm himself down.
trinidad looks around your place, taking in every little detail. the dim lamp. the blanket thrown on the couch. your cup still on the coffee table. your shoes by the door. the way everything feels lived in, warm, quiet… safe.
“yo place feel cozy…” he mumbles, voice low, soft, weirdly shy for someone who performs in front of thousands. his eyes drift back to you, and something in them shifts — like he wasn’t expecting you to look this good up close. “real cozy.”
you can’t even pretend you don’t feel it. your chest gets tight. your stomach flips. he hasn’t been here longer than a minute and you already feel seen in a way you’re not used to.
you try to act normal, even though your hands are shaking a little, like they always do when you get overwhelmed. “thanks… i just kinda keep it how i like it.”
“nah, it’s cute,” he says, walking closer. “real cute.”
and he doesn’t say it like he’s talking about the house.
you move back a little, just to breathe, but he steps with you — not in a pushy way, just… drawn in, like he can’t help it. like something got ahold of him the second he saw you again.
and that’s when his phone goes off.
the vibration hits his pocket, loud in the small quiet room. he freezes. jaw clenches. eyes roll a little like he already knows who it is.
you don’t say a word.
he pulls the phone out and the name jennifer lights up the screen. white girl selfie as the contact photo. filters. lip filler look. long acrylics. blonde highlights. the exact kind of girl that looks good on camera but mean in person. her bio probably got “god first ✝️✨” while she calls everyone the n-word in private.
he stares at the screen, annoyed but tired. really tired.
the call ends.
two seconds later — ding.
a paragraph.
you don’t read it, but you catch it over his shoulder:
“where tf r u??? don’t make me look stupid again. answer your phone.”
another text:
“and i checked ur location. why r u in the hood rn???”
another:
“u better not be w some ugly broke ass girl.”
you look away immediately. you don’t want him embarrassed.
but he already is.
he sighs, turns the phone face-down on your table. “my bad… she be wildin’ sometimes.”
you shrug like it doesn’t bother you, even though it kinda stings. “u don’t gotta explain nothing.”
“nah… i do,” he says quietly. “she ain’t—”
he stops. corrects himself.
“she not what i thought.”
something in his voice sounds hurt, but controlled, like he’s trying not to let it get to him.
you step a little closer without thinking. “trinidad…”
he looks at you. really looks. like he’s seeing something he didn’t notice before. like the whole room got smaller.
“why she talk to you like that?” you ask softly. not judging. just… real.
he laughs under his breath, no humor in it. “man, ion even know anymore.”
and his phone goes off AGAIN.
another long text.
another insult.
another accusation.
trinidad doesn’t even look this time.
he just slides the phone further away like it’s disgusting to touch.
“i shouldn’t even be here,” he says under his breath, running a hand through his curls, frustrated. “but i wanted to see you.”
your heart does a whole gymnastic routine.
you try to play it off. “u literally just saw me four days ago.”
“yeah,” he says, stepping closer again, “and that shit been stuck in my head since.”
your back hits the kitchen counter without you realizing you even stepped away. he stops right in front of you. close enough to smell his cologne — that warm, sunny, soft scent that hits your chest before your brain catches up.
his hand comes up like he wants to touch your face… but he doesn’t. he just hovers there, like he’s asking permission without talking.
“you good?” he asks quietly, even though he’s the one looking dangerously close to losing it.
you nod, barely. “yeah… are you?”
“not really,” he admits in a whisper. “not when you look at me like that.”
your breath gets stuck.
he reaches past you, slow, gentle, grabs the edge of the counter so he’s caging you in without touching you. his head drops a little, forehead almost brushing yours.
the tension hits so hard you feel it behind your knees.
his voice drops even lower. “jen don’t make me feel like this.”
you swallow. “like what?”
his eyes flick down to your lips, then back to your eyes. “like… i wanna forget everything that stressing me out.”
your pulse jumps.
his lips are so close it’s stupid.
his curls fall into his face a little, and he doesn’t move them, because he’s too focused on you. his breathing changes. deeper. slower. hungrier.
“y/n,” he murmurs, and the way he says your name… god. it’s too soft. too honest.
you’re both standing there, heavy silence, heat rising, everything pulling tighter and tighter—
and then he finally whispers, barely holding himself back:
“tell me to stop… if u want me to.”
you don’t say anything.
and that’s all he needs.
he leans in—
and that’s exactly where the moment breaks open..
she shivers slightly, trying not to, but failing. “i—i can’t,” she admits, looking down at the floor, then back up into his eyes, which are warm, unrelenting, and so… him.
“good,” he says simply, almost to himself, but loud enough that she hears. “i like it when you’re honest. makes things… easier.”
the air is thick between them, tension winding tighter with every breath. the way he leans, the way he smiles, the subtle teasing in his voice — it’s all so natural, human, unforced. and y/n can feel it crawling up her spine, making her pulse race, making every fiber of her body alert.
he takes one more step closer — close enough that she can feel the faint heat of his chest near hers — and stops, just short of touching. his grin softens, eyes lingering on her lips for a heartbeat longer than necessary.
“you know,” he whispers, just loud enough for her, “we could make this… a lil fun.”
y/n swallows, heat flooding her cheeks, heartbeat hammering. she wants to say something, wants to pull back, but every instinct is telling her to stay, to feel, to see what he’ll do next.
and that’s when the world narrows down to just the two of them — two bodies, two hearts, one unbearable pull that neither wants to break.
he doesn’t move in all at once. trinidad takes his time, like he already knows she spooks easy, like he’s tryna prove he ain’t nothin’ gotta rush. he lifts one hand slow, lets his knuckles graze her jaw, barely there, just enough for her to feel the warmth of his skin. her breath catches loud in the quiet kitchen.
“still with me, baby?” he asks, voice all low and raspy, that island lilt curling around the words.
she nods before she can stop herself. “yeah… i’m here.”
“good.” his thumb brushes the corner of her mouth, soft, testing. “cause i been thinkin’ ‘bout this since the night i met you backstage. you just stood there, all quiet, watchin’ me like you could see straight through the bullshit. made me nervous, real talk.”
her lips part, but nothing comes out. he smiles at that, small and crooked, then leans in till his forehead almost touches hers.
“tell me if it’s too much,” he whispers. “anytime. say the word and i stop, aight?”
y/n’s hands stay fisted in her lap till he pulls back just enough to look at her. “touch me,” he says, not a demand, more like he’s begging. “wanna feel you.”
another nod, quicker this time. he closes the last bit of space, mouth brushing hers so gentle it almost hurts. the kiss is slow, lazy almost, like he’s tasting her for the first time and don’t wanna miss nothing. his lips soft, warm, a lil chapped at the edges, and he smells like cocoa butter and whatever cologne he sprayed hours ago that’s faded into something warmer, something that’s just him.
her palms land shaky on his chest, fingers curling into the thin fabric of his t-shirt. he exhales like that alone is relief, then kisses her again, deeper this time, tongue sliding slow against hers. the little moan she lets out makes him grip her waist, thumbs pressing into the soft skin just above her jeans.
he walks her backwards till her spine meets the counter, never breaking the kiss. one of his thighs slides between hers, not grinding yet, just there, solid and warm. she can feel how hard he already is through his sweats and it makes her head spin.
“trin…” it comes out shaky, needy.
“i know, baby, i know,” he murmurs against her neck, lips dragging down the side, teeth grazing just enough to make her gasp. his hands slip under her shirt, palms hot against her stomach, sliding up slow till his thumbs brush the underside of her bra. “this okay?”
“yes—please—”
he pushes the cups up, not even bothering to unclasp it, just needy enough to get his hands on her. when his thumbs circle her nipples she jerks, oversensitive, and he groans low in his throat.
“fuck, you so soft,” he breathes, mouth moving lower, kissing over her collarbone while his fingers tease and roll till she’s squirming against his thigh. “been dreamin’ ‘bout how you’d sound… you even prettier than i thought.”
she can’t answer, just digs her nails into his shoulders when he pinches a little harder. he pulls back to yank his shirt over his head, curls bouncing, chest rising fast. the kitchen light hits his skin just right, warm brown and glistening a little at the collarbone from the heat building between them.
he drops to his knees slow, like he’s praying, hands sliding down her sides till he’s hooking fingers in the waistband of her jeans and panties both. looks up at her one last time, eyes dark and hungry.
“can i?”
she nods so fast it’s embarrassing. he drags everything down in one go, helping her step out, then spreads her thighs gentle with his hands. the first swipe of his tongue is soft, exploratory, like he’s memorizing her. the second is firmer, right over her clit, and her knees almost give out.
“oh—fuck—”
he hums against her, arms wrapping around her thighs to hold her up when she starts shaking. tongue circling slow, then fast, then slow again like he already knows exactly what’s gonna unravel her. when he slides two fingers inside, curling just right, she has to slap a hand over her mouth to keep from crying out too loud.
trinidad pulls back just enough to talk, lips shiny, breath hot against her. “nah, lemme hear you. wanna hear every lil sound you make when you come on my tongue.”
he dives back in, fingers pumping steady, tongue relentless. it don’t take long, heat coils tight and snaps all at once. she comes with his name cracked in half in her throat, thighs clamping around his head, whole body trembling.
he doesn’t stop till she’s pushing weakly at his curls, oversensitive and gasping. then he’s up, kissing her deep so she tastes herself on his tongue, hands cupping her face like she’s something precious.
“bedroom?” he asks, voice wrecked, forehead pressed to hers.
she can only nod, still dizzy. he scoops her up easy, legs wrapping around his waist on instinct, and carries her down the hall like she weighs nothing, mouth on her neck the whole way, whispering, “we just gettin’ started, ma… i’m finna take my time wit’ you.”
he kicks the bedroom door shut with his heel, still carrying her like she weightless, mouth hot on that spot under her ear that makes her shiver every time. the room is dark except for the streetlight leaking through the blinds, stripes of gold cutting across his back as he lays her down gentle on the mattress.
“look at you,” he murmurs, voice all gravel and wonder, crawling over her slow. “so damn pretty like this.”
y/n’s cheeks burn. she tries to hide her face in the pillow but he catches her wrist soft, pinning it beside her head.
“nuh uh. lemme see you, baby. ain’t gotta be shy wit’ me no more.”
his phone, tossed on the nightstand when they stumbled in, lights up again. buzz after buzz after buzz. the screen flashes jennifer’s name over and over, paragraphs popping up faster than he can even read ‘em.
baby where are you
i miss you so much
you not answering my calls??
trinidad i stg don’t play wimmie right now
i need $400 for my nails tomorrow you said you was gonna send it
hello???
you wit some bitch ain’t you
answer me
he don’t even glance at it for real. just reaches over, flips the phone face-down, and turns the ringer off without a second thought. the buzzing stops, but the screen still glows through the cracks, lighting up every few seconds like it’s throwing a tantrum.
trinidad looks back at y/n, curls falling in his eyes, and gives her that same soft smile. “ignore that. that’s dead.”
he kisses her again, slow and deep, hips settling between her thighs. she can feel him heavy and hot through the thin fabric of his sweats, grinding just enough to make her gasp into his mouth.
“you good?” he checks again, thumb stroking her cheek.
she nods, biting her lip, still shy even with her legs wrapped around him. “mhm… want you.”
“yeah?” he breathes, sounding almost relieved. “want you too. been wantin’ you.”
he sits back on his heels, drags his sweats and boxers down in one go. dick heavy in his hand, tip already wet, curving up toward his stomach. y/n’s eyes go wide and he catches it, chuckles low.
“don’t worry, ma… we gon’ go slow.”
he leans over her again, kissing her soft while he lines up, rubbing the head through her folds still slick from earlier. every time he nudges her clit she jumps a lil, breath hitching.
“tell me when,” he whispers.
now, she thinks, but it comes out a tiny “please…”
he pushes in slow, just the tip, watching her face the whole time. her mouth falls open, nails digging half-moons into his shoulders.
“breathe, baby… there you go… good girl.”
inch by inch he sinks in, groaning low when he bottoms out, forehead dropping to hers. “fuck… you grippin’ me so tight.”
the phone starts vibrating again, harder this time, like jennifer done lost her damn mind. it dances across the nightstand, almost falls off.
trinidad don’t even flinch. just pulls back slow and slides back in deeper, setting a lazy rhythm that got y/n seeing stars already.
“that’s it… lemme hear you,” he raspy in her ear. “don’t care who hear. let it out.”
she can’t help it, little broken moans spilling every time he hits that spot inside. he speeds up just a little, hips rolling perfect, hand slipping between them to rub slow circles on her clit.
outside, jennifer somewhere in somebody else’s bed, fake crying into her homegirl’s phone about how trinidad “got her fucked up” while sending him fifty more texts and a cashapp request for $800 “for the hair appointment you promised.” her location still on, pinging from some loft downtown that definitely ain’t hers.
in here, though?
it’s just them. sweat, low curses in patois when he gets close, y/n’s quiet little “trini—trini—” like a prayer when she comes again, fluttering around him so hard his rhythm stutters.
“shit—where you want it?” he grits out, trying to hold on.
“inside… please—”
that’s all it takes. he buries his face in her neck, hips jerking as he spills deep, moaning her name like it hurts so good.
they stay like that, breathing hard, tangled, his phone still buzzing itself damn near dead on the floor now.
he kisses her temple, lazy and sweet. “you stayin’ the night, yeah?”
she nods into his chest, shy again now that the haze fading. “if… if that’s okay.”
he laughs soft, pulls her closer. “baby, i ain’t lettin’ you leave this bed till tomorrow evenin’ if i can help it.”
the phone gives one last pathetic buzz… then goes black.
“one slip turned into something he couldn’t stop.”
✩｡:*•. ━━━━━━ ☆ ━━━━━━ .•*:｡✩
location📍 : autumn's penthouse | westside atlanta | 11;22 pm
liquor had them reckless. empty bottles on the table, music low in the background, laughter bouncing off the walls. autumn leaned back on the couch, sweats hanging low on his hips, eyes half-lidded but sharp whenever they landed on her.
“you drunk as hell,” he muttered, smirking as she stumbled past him.
“so are you,” she shot back, giggling.
she bent over to grab something off the floor—too slow, too playful—and when she looked back, his gaze was locked on the way her body curved, lips tugging into a grin.
“you know what you doin’, huh?” his voice dipped, low and heavy.
before she could answer, he slid behind her, hands gripping her waist. the press of him hard through his sweats made her gasp.
“autumn—”
“shhh,” he hushed, grinding slow against her ass. the friction made her whimper, her body betraying her.
he moved with her bent over, his hips rolling, sweats sliding lower and lower with each push. her breath caught when she felt bare skin against her—hot, heavy, leaking against her.
“fuck…” he groaned, teeth gritting. “i can’t… sh*t feel too good.”
then it happened—sudden, sharp. his dick slipped past the thin barrier, sliding inside before either of them could stop it.
her eyes widened, mouth falling open. the stretch burned, unexpected.
“oh my god—”
autumn froze for a second, chest heaving. “damn… i ain’t even mean to—”
but the way her body clenched around him? he couldn’t pull back.
“shit,” he growled, grip tightening on her waist. “too late now.”
he pushed deeper, slow at first, watching her crumble under the stretch.
her moans spilled out, soft, broken. “autumn… fuck, it’s—”
“yeah, i know,” he cut in, grinding into her harder. “pussy swallowin’ me up.”
his pace grew messy, drunk and desperate, hips snapping into hers until the couch creaked beneath them.
“thought you was just gon’ tease me?” he taunted, pulling her hair back so she had to look at him. “look at you… bent over, takin’ all this dick like you wanted it the whole time.”
her nails clawed the cushion, body rocking as he hit deeper, sweat dripping down his temples.
“fuck, you feel too good,” he groaned, pounding harder, his low sweats barely hanging on. “i ain’t stoppin’ now… you mine tonight.”
her legs shook, body arching as her orgasm snapped through her, moans spilling uncontrollably.
autumn cursed, head falling back, his release spilling inside her raw, filling her up until it dripped down her thighs.
he held her there, breathing heavy, hips still twitching.
“shit…” he muttered, voice rough, kissing the back of her shoulder. “wasn’t no accident after all.”
✩｡:*•. ━━━━━━ ☆ ━━━━━━ .•*:｡✩
𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 🥂
📍 location: autumn’s penthouse west atlanta
time: 10:47 a.m., sunlight leaking through half-closed blinds
✩｡:*•. ━━━━━━ ☆ ━━━━━━ .•*:｡✩
her head pounded. the sunlight slicing through the blinds was too bright, sheets too warm, her body still sticky from the night before. she groaned, rolling over.
autumn was already awake. sitting up against the headboard, phone in hand, blunt tucked between his lips. his sweats rode low, hair messy, eyes bloodshot but sharp when they flicked her way.
“you loud as hell in the morning,” he muttered, smoke curling into the air.
“and you rude as fuck,” she shot back, voice raspy, half-asleep.
he exhaled slow, a smirk tugging his lips. “girl, just go back to sleep. quit all that talkin’.”
she turned, burying her face in the pillow. “make me.”
the room stilled. his phone hit the nightstand with a clack.
“…what you say?” his voice dropped, dangerous.
she peeked up, lips curling. “i said… make me.”
autumn moved fast—hand gripping her ankle, dragging her back under him before she could blink. his weight pressed her into the mattress, sweatpants shoved down, his dick already hard and heavy against her thigh.
“bet,” he muttered, low and dark.
she gasped as he slid in raw, no warning, the stretch making her arch off the sheets.
“fuck—autumn—”
“nah,” he growled, hand wrapping around her throat, pressing her back into the bed. “you wanted me to make you, right? so shut the fuck up and take it.”
his thrusts hit deep, rough, slamming her into the mattress with each snap of his hips. the headboard rattled against the wall, sunlight catching the sweat on his chest as he leaned over her, choking her with one hand, pinning her wrists with the other.
“look at you,” he spat, eyes locked on hers. “moanin’ like you ain’t just tell me to shut up.”
her voice cracked under his grip, eyes rolling back as pleasure drowned her body.
“this dick makin’ you talk different, huh?” he sneered, pounding harder, the sound of skin on skin sharp in the quiet condo. “make me? nah, i made you mine.”
her legs shook, body trembling as his strokes dragged her closer to the edge.
“open your fuckin’ mouth,” he ordered, tightening his grip just enough to make her gasp. “tell me who’s really in charge.”
“y-you—” she whimpered, tears spilling, her orgasm hitting hard enough to make her cry out.
“that’s right,” autumn groaned, hips slamming deeper, chasing his own high. “all mine.”
he buried himself to the hilt, groaning as he spilled inside, hand still gripping her throat, holding her gaze locked with his.
when it was over, he stayed there, breathing hard, sweat dripping onto her chest.
he kissed her jaw, rough and lazy. “next time you tell me make you… don’t think i’ma let you slide.”
"sometimes trouble comes with tattoos and red dreads."
disclaimer:
﹒ fiction / roleplay purposes only.
﹒ nsfw-coded.
﹒ slow burn → freaky build-up.
✩ playlist ✩
﹒ travis scott – 90210
﹒ sza – love galore
﹒ 6lack – prblms
﹒ summer walker – body
﹒ brent faiyaz – poison
✩✩✩
marcus was laughing when he tied the soft cloth over her eyes, making sure the blindfold sat snug. “trust me, you gon’ like this,” he promised, voice teasing.
everything felt sharper in the dark. the sound of footsteps. the soft shift of the couch. the low bass vibrating faintly through the floor.
and then another voice, deeper, smoother, brushing the air like smoke. “yo. so this who you setting me up with?”
even without seeing him, she felt the pull. the warmth of his presence close enough to make her skin prickle.
“don’t worry,” marcus grinned, “you’ll see each other soon. but first… y’all gotta talk.”
they sat, blindfolds on, trading pieces of themselves. favorite colors. music they couldn’t stop playing. dumb little confessions that made them both laugh. every word made the anticipation coil tighter, her nerves buzzing.
when marcus finally pulled the blindfold away, the air shifted.
sonny sat across from her, dreads falling into his face, black with streaks of deep red at the tips. tattoos peeked from his shirt sleeves, tracing his arms like stories written on skin. his eyes were dark, sharp, but softened when they landed on her.
“d*mn,” he muttered under his breath, lips quirking into the faintest smirk. “marcus wasn’t lying.”
her chest tightened.
marcus clapped his hands. “alright, now that y’all acquainted—time for truth or dare. freaky edition.”
“ladies first,” marcus said.
“truth,” she blurted, trying to play it safe.
marcus smirked. “what’s the wildest spot you ever let somebody touch you?”
her throat went dry. she swallowed hard, heat creeping into her cheeks. “...car backseat,” she admitted quietly.
sonny’s grin spread slow, his tongue running over his teeth like he was already planning something.
then it was his turn. “dare.”
“touch her,” marcus said casually. “wherever you want.”
her breath hitched when sonny leaned closer, his hand sliding slow up her thigh, fingers brushing just a little too high before retreating.
“soft skin,” he whispered low, only for her to hear.
✩✩✩
this time she dared him. “kiss my neck.”
he didn’t hesitate. he shifted closer, lips ghosting the curve of her throat before pressing soft, lingering kisses there. his breath was warm, his teeth grazing lightly. her head tilted back without her meaning to, a shiver running down her spine.
“mm,” he hummed against her, voice rumbling. “you smell too good.”
marcus only laughed. “don’t get lost in it yet, bro."
✩✩✩
her turn again. “truth.”
sonny leaned forward, elbows on his knees, eyes locked on hers. “what turns you on the most?”
her pulse pounded. she forced the words out, quiet. “confidence. when somebody takes control.”
his smirk deepened, tattoos flexing as he reached up to scratch his jaw. “good to know.”
then it was his turn.
marcus grinned wicked. “dare. tongue kiss her.”
before she could even react, sonny’s hand cupped her jaw, pulling her in. his mouth crashed into hers, tongue sliding past her lips with a slow, deliberate hunger. it wasn’t rushed—it was claiming. tasting. every stroke made her melt into him, her hand instinctively grabbing his shirt.
when he finally pulled back, his lips were swollen, his breath warm against her mouth.
“you taste dangerous,” he whispered.
✩｡:*•. ━━━━━━ ☆ ━━━━━━ .•*:｡✩
marcus leaned back, smirk wide, eyes flicking between the two of them like he’d just lit the match and tossed it.
“alright,” he drawled, “no more soft sh*t. it’s extreme round now.”
the air shifted. sonny’s tongue slid across his bottom lip, and he didn’t take his eyes off her.
✩✩✩
“sonny, dare,” marcus grinned.
without hesitation: “bet.”
“finger her. right here.”
her breath caught, but sonny was already on her. his hand slid up her thigh slow, tattoos flexing under his skin as his fingers pushed her shorts aside.
“spread f’ me,” he murmured, voice rough.
she obeyed before she even thought about it, thighs trembling as his fingers dipped inside her, slow at first, then curling just right.
“fuck,” she gasped, head falling back.
he smirked, eyes burning into hers as he worked deeper, thumb circling her clit. “you’re so f*ckin wet already. you like that everybody’s watchin?”
her answer came out as a moan, body arching, thighs clenching around his hand.
✩✩✩
marcus laughed low. “y/n, your turn. dare.”
her lips parted, words shaky. “...kiss him. down there.”
sonny leaned back instantly, spreading his legs, the bulge in his sweats straining. “don’t gotta tell me twice,” he said, tugging the band low enough for his dick to spring free, thick and hard.
her cheeks flushed hot, but when she leaned forward, his hand tangled in her hair. “that’s it, mama. open that pretty mouth.”
her tongue dragged slow up his length before wrapping her lips around the tip. his head dropped back, a groan tearing from his chest.
“sh*t— fuck. yeah, just like that. take it deeper.”
she gagged softly when he pushed her down further, his hips lifting. tears stung her eyes, spit running down her chin, but the way he moaned her name made her want more.
“good girl,” he breathed, chest rising and falling fast. “suck this dick like you mean it.”
✩✩✩
marcus was grinning ear to ear. “last one. dare. both of y’all. make out like you tryna f*ck.”
sonny pulled her up instantly, wiping her chin with his thumb before crashing his lips into hers. it was messy, tongues tangling, teeth clashing, spit and breath mixing.
his hand cupped her ass, grinding her against his hard length. “feel that?” he growled into her mouth. “that’s all yours.”
she whimpered when he slipped his fingers between her thighs again, rubbing rough circles against her clit while their tongues battled.
her nails dug into his shoulders, moans spilling into his mouth as he whispered, “next round, i’m f*cking you so hard marcus gonna regret setting this up.”
and from the look in his eyes, she knew he meant every word.
marcus leaned forward, eyes glinting. “y’all ain’t even sweating yet. we gon’ turn it up.”
sonny still had his hand cupping her ass, thumb tracing lazy circles while his lips brushed her jaw. “turn it up, then. i ain’t scared.”
she shivered, caught between their energy, the air heavy with tension.
✩✩✩
“truth,” marcus said, looking at her.
her chest rose and fell quick. “what?”
“what’s the dirtiest thought you’ve had tonight?”
her lips parted, heat crawling up her face. she hesitated, but sonny’s dark eyes stayed locked on hers, daring her to answer.
“...him. fucking me,” she whispered.
sonny’s grin spread slow, sharp. “say it louder.”
she swallowed. “i want you to f*ck me.”
his jaw flexed. “bet.”
✩☆☆
marcus smirked. “sonny, dare. eat her pussy. right here, right now.”
she gasped, but sonny was already pulling her shorts down, sliding her onto his lap like she weighed nothing.
“lay back, baby,” he murmured, lowering himself between her thighs.
the first swipe of his tongue made her cry out, thighs jerking, but his hands held them wide open. he ate her like a man starved—deep, sloppy, tongue flicking against her clit before plunging into her, groaning like he couldn’t get enough.
“taste so fuckin good,” he moaned against her, chin wet, sucking her until her back arched and she was a trembling mess.
she tugged his dreads, breath breaking. “sonny, i— fuck, i’m gonna—”
“let it go,” he growled, sucking harder until her release hit, coating his mouth, her moans echoing through the room.
when he pulled back, lips glistening, he licked them slow. “sweetest sh*t i ever had.”
☆☆☆
marcus laughed. “alright, last one. dare for both.”
he leaned back, smirk wicked. “fuck. right here. raw.”
her eyes widened, heart hammering, but sonny just smirked, chest rising heavy.
“say less.”
he pulled her onto his lap, dick thick and hard against her slick heat. “you sure, mama?” he asked low, his forehead pressed to hers.
her voice was shaky, desperate. “...please.”
and with that, he pushed inside her, raw, stretching her open inch by inch until she was gasping, nails clawing at his back.
“fuck,” he groaned, jaw tight. “so fuckin tight— taking me so good.”
her cries filled the room as he started moving, slow at first, then harder, rougher, hips slamming up into hers. his tattoos flexed as he gripped her waist, guiding her, making her ride his d*ck deep.
their mouths collided, messy kisses breaking with moans. sweat slicked their skin, the couch creaking beneath them, marcus’s laughter faint in the background before fading into nothing but the sound of skin on skin.
“mine,” sonny growled against her neck, biting hard. “say it— say who this pussy belongs to.”
“y-you,” she gasped, trembling as her orgasm built again. “fuck, it’s yours—”
her release hit, clenching tight around him, dragging his own climax out with a loud groan. he spilled inside her, hips jerking, holding her down on his dick as if he never wanted to let go.
when it finally stilled, he pressed his forehead to hers, sweat dripping, breath ragged.
“game over,” he whispered, lips brushing hers. “but this? this ain’t over.”
﹒﹒ fictional work. not real, not to be reposted without credit.
playlist:
﹒ rich amiri – dirty money
﹒ autumn! – still the same
﹒ summrs – addicted 2 u
﹒ ssgkobe – calm it down
location : 📍 amiri's penthouse
the first thing she noticed was the ceiling. tall, white, perfectly smooth—too neat to belong to her. she blinked hard, trying to shake the fuzz in her vision. her head pounded like she’d been underwater too long, ears ringing with a faint hum she couldn’t place.
her hands brushed the sheets, and that’s when her body stiffened. the fabric wasn’t hers—thick, heavy, smelling faintly of something sharp and masculine. cologne, smoke, leather.
her stomach turned. she sat up too quickly, the world tilting before it settled again, and panic flared in her chest.
the room around her was massive. wall-to-wall windows let in the city skyline, neon bleeding into the quiet space. polished floors. sleek furniture. everything screamed *money*.
and then she heard the sound—low, rough, a groan coming from the other side of the bed.
she whipped her head around.
a boy—no, a man—shifted under the duvet, turning onto his back. his hair caught her first: short ginger dreads, twisted and neat, falling slightly against his forehead. caramel skin glowed faintly under the soft light spilling through the blinds. his forearm was bare, and ink wrapped across it, dark lines cutting sharp against his skin.
he squinted, arm thrown over his eyes before sliding it away. his gaze locked with hers.
rich amiri.
her throat went dry.
“what the fuck…” his voice rasped, heavy from sleep, deeper than she expected. he pushed himself upright, chain glinting as it slid against his chest.
silence crashed down on the room, both of them staring, both too stunned to move.
flashback — the club, hours earlier
bass rattled the floor, lights stabbing through haze, the kind of night that blurred at the edges. she hadn’t wanted another drink, but someone pressed it into her hand anyway, a smile too wide, voice too sweet.
she sipped, even though the taste was wrong—too bitter under all that sugar. minutes later, her vision lagged behind her steps. music warped, lights doubled, and suddenly the ground didn’t feel steady.
hands touched her—too many, too close. one pressed against her back, guiding her where she didn’t want to go. another curled around her arm, grip tightening.
her voice caught in her throat. everything spun.
and then, another voice. low, firm, sharp enough to cut through the noise.
“nah. they with me.”
she didn’t recognize it at first. she didn’t even know who it belonged to. but the hands pulling at her dropped instantly. the weight on her arm disappeared.
rich had been leaning against the wall minutes earlier, eyes scanning the crowd without much interest. he didn’t know her. hadn’t seen her before. but the way she stumbled, the glassy look in her eyes, the wrong hands reaching for her—it pushed something in him forward, instinctive and fast.
he slipped an arm around her shoulders before she collapsed, steadying her against him.
“you good?” he asked, but her words came out slurred, broken.
no answer, just her leaning into him like gravity made the choice for her.
he clenched his jaw, scanning the room. he didn’t trust anyone here. so he got her out.
through the back exit. into the car. up the elevator. all while her head rested heavy against his shoulder, mumbling fragments of nothing he couldn’t piece together.
his penthouse door shut behind them, city silence replacing the chaos of the club.
water. blanket. the couch. that’s all he planned.
but she was out before the glass touched her lips.
back to now
her voice cracked, soft but heavy with fear. “did we…” she couldn’t finish.
he shook his head instantly. “nah. you were out. someone… slipped something in your drink. i got you out.”
the words hung between them, sharp but steady. her heartbeat thumped in her ears, part terror, part relief.
she pulled the blanket tighter around herself. “why would you even… why would you help me?”
his jaw flexed. he dragged a hand over his face, ginger dreads shifting. finally, he met her eyes. caramel, tired, guarded.
“wrong place, right time,” he muttered, voice low. “couldn’t just leave you.”
she stared at him, studying the way the tattoo curled across his arm, the faint glint of his chain, the weight behind his words.
he looked away first, back toward the skyline. “you hungry?” he asked suddenly, like it was easier than staying in the silence.
she blinked, caught off guard. “what?”
“you should eat something. get your head right.”
he stood, moving toward the kitchen, shoulders loose but posture heavy, like he hadn’t slept in days.
and for the first time since she woke up, the fear shifted. not gone, but replaced with something else—something uncertain, something new.
the kitchen lights flicked on with a low hum, spilling gold across polished counters. the space looked untouched, like no one actually lived here, but the faint mess of takeout containers in the trash told the truth.
she sat frozen on the bed, blanket still pulled around her shoulders. her head felt lighter now, but the ache lingered, pounding behind her eyes.
her voice was barely above a whisper. “so… you’re really saying nothing happened?”
he didn’t look back at first. his hand dragged across the edge of the counter, the tattoo on his forearm catching the light. his ginger dreads shifted as he tilted his head down, opening a cabinet like the question didn’t sting the way it did.
“nothing,” he said finally, tone clipped, like he didn’t want to repeat himself. “i don’t move like that.”
the words landed heavier than she expected. he didn’t owe her anything—he didn’t even know her—but something about the way he said it made her chest loosen.
amiri pulled out a box of cereal, set it down, then reached for bowls. he moved with a certain rough precision, not careless but not practiced either.
she wrapped the blanket tighter and stood, bare feet brushing against the cold floor. the penthouse felt huge compared to her. every step across it echoed.
she stopped in the doorway of the kitchen, gripping the blanket like it was armor. “you didn’t have to… bring me here.”
he poured cereal into a bowl, milk after. finally, he lifted his gaze to hers. caramel brown eyes, a little bloodshot, heavy-lidded but sharp.
“could’ve left you?” he asked flatly. “let someone else decide what happened next?”
her stomach twisted. she thought back to the club—the hands pulling, the voices too close, the way the room spun. no. she didn’t want to think about what might’ve happened.
he slid the bowl across the counter toward her. “eat.”
she hesitated, then stepped forward, lowering herself onto one of the stools. the blanket pooled around her like a shield.
the silence between them was thick but not empty. she studied him while pretending not to. the chain resting against his shirt. the ginger dreads that framed his face, some falling forward when he leaned down. the ink on his arm, black lines coiled and sharp against caramel skin.
he didn’t look like the type to notice strangers in a crowded club. didn’t look like the type to play hero.
and yet, here she was.
“what’s your name?” she asked suddenly, realizing she didn’t even know if she should call him amiri or something else.
he glanced at her, spoon halfway to his mouth. “you don’t know?”
she blinked. “should i?”
he let out a faint laugh—short, almost humorless. “guess not.” he set the spoon down, leaning back slightly. “rich. that’s what people call me.”
she nodded slowly, the name fitting but still feeling strange on her tongue. “i’m…” her voice trailed. saying her name felt small in a space like this.
he repeated it back quietly, almost like he was testing the sound. then he went back to eating.
the city outside buzzed faintly through the glass walls. cars like ants. neon bleeding into the sky.
after a long stretch of silence, she whispered, “i don’t remember much.”
rich’s jaw flexed. he set his spoon down again, fingers tapping the counter in thought. “you don’t need to,” he said finally. “just know somebody had bad intentions. and i wasn’t gonna let that play out.”
her breath caught, gratitude burning in her throat but too tangled to say out loud.
instead, she just whispered, “thank you.”
for the first time, his eyes softened. not by much—but enough.
✩｡:*•. ━━━━━━ ☆ ━━━━━━ .•*:｡✩
flashback — the car ride, hours earlier
the backseat was quiet except for the hum of tires on pavement. she slumped against the window, eyes half-closed, mumbling fragments that didn’t connect.
rich sat beside her, staring out at the blur of city lights. every few seconds, he glanced back at her, making sure her breathing was steady.
“you gon’ be alright,” he muttered, not sure if she could even hear him.
her head tipped, sliding from the glass to his shoulder. his body tensed, but he didn’t move her away.
the driver didn’t ask questions. no one ever did when it came to him.
by the time they pulled up to the penthouse, she was almost gone, words spilling soft and incoherent. he carried her weight inside, unlocking the door with one hand while holding her steady with the other.
she stirred just once, whispering something he couldn’t catch.
and then she was out.
✩｡:*•. ━━━━━━ ☆ ━━━━━━ .•*:｡✩
**back to now**
she sat at the counter, spoon halfway in the bowl, watching him more than the food. her body still ached, but her mind was sharper now. sharper enough to realize she didn’t know why he cared.
“you didn’t even know me,” she said softly. “so why?”
rich leaned back, arms crossed, the tattoo on his forearm catching the light. he thought for a long moment before answering.
“didn’t matter if i knew you or not,” he said finally, voice steady. “you were in the wrong place. i just happened to be there at the right time.”
she held his gaze, the blanket falling slightly off her shoulder.
and for the first time since waking, she didn’t feel as lost.
she thought walking the halls alone would be fine. she was wrong..
school hallways | 8:54 am
y/n hugged her books to her chest, shoulders hunched, hood pulled low. the fluorescent lights made everything glare, shadows stretching long across the linoleum floor. every step felt heavier than the last, like the weight of the world pressed on her chest. she tried to ignore the whispers, the snickers. she tried to disappear into herself.
but she couldn’t.
“look who it is,” lola’s voice rang sharp, cutting through her focus. y/n froze. she knew that tone. that sneer. lola, yuke’s ex, standing with kavanii and india, two other girls who thrived on making her life hell. behind them, trey and marcus, two tall boys with smirks that could chill blood, leaned lazily against the lockers, watching the show before it even started.
y/n’s stomach twisted. her legs wanted to run, to vanish, but her feet wouldn’t cooperate. “p-please… i… i just…” her voice faltered, stuttered, weak.
“you think you can just walk these halls?” lola snapped, shoving her shoulder hard. “nobody wants you here. nobody likes you. not here, not anywhere.”
kavanii laughed, slamming her backpack into y/n’s back. india shoved her hard, knees hitting the cold floor. y/n fell, trying to curl in, cover herself, but they were on her like predators.
“st-stay back!” she stammered, chest rising, tears threatening. her glasses slid down her nose as she tried to protect herself, hood falling off.
“ahh, she’s so weak,” trey sneered, stepping forward, stomping lightly on her sneakers. marcus kicked at her backpack, making her cry out. “pathetic.”
y/n whimpered, pressing herself into the lockers, hoping, praying someone would notice, anyone. she didn’t have to wait long.
“enough.”
the word cut through the chaos, low and dangerous. y/n blinked through her tears and gasped as she saw two familiar figures moving fast, purposeful, approaching with tension radiating off them. yuke and jaydes.
“y/n!” yuke’s voice was sharp, commanding, protective. his curly twists bobbed under his beanie as he strode forward, hands clenched. “get away from her.”
jaydes followed, calm but lethal, moving to block one side of the group. “now. step the fuck back.”
lola smirked, stepping forward, chest puffed. “oh look, the knights. what are you gonna do, huh? i’m not scared.”
“you should be,” yuke said, low, his voice quiet but deadly, every word hitting like a warning. his eyes locked on lola’s, then flicked to kavanii and india. “step. back.”
kavanii grabbed y/n’s backpack again, tugging. y/n whimpered, trembling, shivering. yuke’s hand shot out, yanking the strap from her and pulling her behind him, shielding her.
“hands off my girl,” yuke growled, jaw tight. “i don’t care who you are. step away.”
jaydes tilted his head, eyes calculating. one step, two steps, and the bullies froze. they hadn’t realized just how serious these two were. jaydes’ arm slid slightly, blocking india’s path, his calm but predatory energy warning them off.
the hallway fell silent, except for y/n’s shaky breaths, chest rising fast, tears blurring her vision. she felt yuke’s hand slip into hers, squeezing gently, grounding her.
“b-breathe,” he murmured. “look at me. everything’s okay. i got you.”
lola’s face twisted with frustration. “this isn’t over,” she hissed, dragging kavanii and india backward. trey and marcus muttered under their breath, eyes darting but didn’t move forward. finally, the group retreated, grumbling, muttering threats, but leaving y/n alone.
she slumped against the lockers, knees weak, trembling. “th-thank you,” she whispered, voice tiny, soft, barely audible.
yuke crouched slightly, holding her hands. “you don’t gotta thank me, y/n. nobody touches you. nobody ever will again while i’m around.”
jaydes leaned against the lockers, arms crossed, smirk softening. “you’re safe. for now. breathe.”
y/n blinked up at them, chest rising, shivers still running through her, tears threatening to fall. she had felt so small, so helpless, so trapped in her own body… but now, with yuke and jaydes standing there, protective, strong, her body felt… safe. almost.
“you’re okay,” yuke murmured, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “you’re okay. come on, let’s get outta here before they come back.”
y/n nodded shakily, clutching his arm as they walked down the hallway. whispers followed them, but she barely noticed. all she noticed was the warmth of yuke’s hand, the steady presence of jaydes beside her, and the realization that maybe, just maybe… she wasn’t completely alone.
as they reached the stairwell, y/n leaned against the wall, shivering. jaydes glanced at her, expression softening. “you did good. you’re stronger than they think. stronger than you feel.”
yuke crouched to her height, eyes serious but gentle. “we got you. always. you’re never alone. feel that, y/n? that’s us.”
y/n’s chest heaved, tears spilling down her cheeks. “i… i… th-thank you…” she stammered, voice breaking.
“don’t thank us,” yuke whispered, pulling her into a gentle side hug. “just stay with us. we’ll protect you. always.”
y/n pressed herself closer to yuke as they turned the corner, the weight of adrenaline still pulsing through her veins. her knees shook and her chest rose and fell fast, breaths jagged. she could feel every bruise, every scrape from the backpacks and stomps, the sting of teeth and nails scraping her arm… her body remembered. her mind spun, and the stutter she always fought came back worse.
“y-y-you… you don’t… you don’t have to…” she tried to say, voice cracking, but yuke tightened his grip gently on her hand.
“shhh… i got you,” he murmured, low, comforting, protective. “look at me. breathe. we’re right here. nobody’s touching you again.”
jaydes’ eyes scanned the hallway behind them. “they’re gone for now, but they’re not done. trust me. those kids don’t know when to quit.”
“hey,” yuke said softly, crouching to her height, hand brushing her cheek. “you’re not small. not to me. you’re strong, y/n. stronger than they’ll ever know.”
they moved slowly down the hallway, y/n leaning slightly against yuke for balance. whispers followed them, stares from students trying to see what had happened. she could hear muffled giggles and gasps. it made her shrink into herself, but with yuke and jaydes at her sides, she felt… slightly safer.
“let’s go see principal hartman,” jaydes said, voice low, calm, like a predator ready to pounce if needed. “we’re not letting this slide.”
y/n nodded, shivering. “o-okay…” she whispered, voice barely audible. she hated confrontation, hated being seen like this, hated the bruises and humiliation. but… she trusted them.
as they turned another corner, they saw lola leaning casually against the lockers, kavanii and india whispering, trey and marcus flanking them. all five of them froze when they noticed yuke and jaydes walking with y/n.
“y-you—” lola started, but yuke’s low growl cut her off.
“back. the fuck. off.” yuke’s eyes were dark, dangerous. his curly twists bounced as he leaned slightly forward, voice deadly. “you think i won’t do something? try me.”
jaydes stepped beside him, tall, imposing, smirk disappearing, eyes sharp. “leave her alone. now. or you’re gonna regret it.”
lola smirked, trying to sound fearless. “oh really? what are you gonna do, huh? you two can’t stop us.”
yuke didn’t move, didn’t smile, didn’t hesitate. he grabbed her backpack, slinging it over y/n’s shoulder protectively, and muttered, “you touch her again… i swear. nobody plays with her.”
jaydes tilted his head, calm, deadly. “don’t test us. leave, or we make you leave.”
india and kavanii glanced nervously at each other, trey shifted uncomfortably, and marcus clenched his jaw. the air was tense. y/n’s chest rose fast, her heart hammering, adrenaline surging again. she had never felt this safe… yet this wired, shaking, messy.
finally, lola spat on the floor, angry, frustrated. “this isn’t over,” she hissed, dragging kavanii and india back. trey and marcus muttered under their breath but followed. the hallway was quiet now, except for y/n’s shaky breaths.
“i-i… th-thank you,” she stammered, voice trembling, still shivering. tears threatened again, but she blinked them back.
yuke crouched slightly, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “don’t thank us. just… keep walking with us. i got you.”
jaydes leaned against the lockers, arms crossed, smirk softening. “seriously. we’re not letting anyone touch you again. not today, not tomorrow. got it?”
y/n nodded, trembling, holding their hands. she could still feel the sting of every hit, every push, every shove… but their presence made it… bearable. a little.
as they walked to the principal’s office, y/n felt the weight of the hallway, of whispers, of stares. but she also felt the warmth of their hands, their protective energy, the quiet promise that they wouldn’t let anything happen to her.
“yeah,” jaydes said, eyes scanning the hallway. “we got your back, y/n. always.”
y/n breathed, shaky but steadying, chest rising and falling. maybe she couldn’t control the bullies. maybe the pain didn’t stop here. but with them… with yuke and jaydes… she could survive. she could fight. she could exist. she could be herself, messy, trembling, quiet… and still feel safe.
and for the first time in a long time, she believed it.
the silence between them was louder than any song.
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✩
disclaimer!:
﹒﹒ this is a work of fiction. any similarities to real ppl/events are purely coincidental.
﹒﹒ pls don’t repost without credit.
﹒﹒ no smut (for now), just vibes, feelings, + storybuilding.
master playlist:
﹒ autumn! – still the same
﹒ summrs – stuck in my ways
﹒ rich amiri – one call
﹒ sgpwes – no more
﹒ ssgkobe – calm it down
﹒ summrs – heart in a casket
﹒ autumn! – one way
﹒ slump6s – origin
﹒ iayze – 556 (green tip)
﹒ yeat – turban
﹒ ka$hdami – look n the mirror!
﹒ slump6s – moment
﹒ sgpwes – crush
﹒ jaydes – rose
﹒ dc the don – hate being lonely
📍 jaydes house | 8:43 pm
the night pressed heavy against the walls, the kind of weight that made the air feel too thick to breathe right. jaydes lay sprawled across his bed, headphones slipping off one ear, the bass from the track buzzing against his skull. it didn’t soothe him—it never really did—but he kept it playing anyway. it was better than the silence.
his phone screen glowed dimly beside him, a handful of unsent messages sitting in drafts. words half-written, deleted, rewritten, deleted again. he hovered over the send button every time, but his chest always locked up before his thumb could press it.
instead, he sighed and sat up, dragging the notebook from his nightstand into his lap. messy handwriting bled across the page—unfinished verses, scattered thoughts, lyrics that didn’t rhyme but somehow still felt like confessions. he wrote because it was easier than saying it.
the notebook was half-full of broken lines when the door creaked open. jaydes froze, the pen pausing mid-word. his chest tightened instantly—he hated interruptions, hated being seen like this.
he didn’t look up, not right away. but he felt it: the shift in the air, the presence that entered the room without permission.
she walked in like it wasn’t strange, like she belonged there. no name, no warning—just footsteps quiet enough to unsettle him.
jaydes snapped the notebook shut, sliding it halfway under a pillow. his jaw flexed as he muttered, “you shouldn’t be here.”
but she didn’t flinch. her gaze flicked from him to the notebook, and back. “doesn’t seem like i’m bothering you.”
he scoffed under his breath, annoyed but not enough to tell her to leave. she had that effect—turning his words sharp in his throat but soft when they came out.
the silence between them stretched. this wasn’t the hollow kind of silence he’d been drowning in earlier—this was heavier, the kind that wrapped itself around his chest and forced him to notice every detail: the way she tilted her head, the way her presence pulled something restless out of him.
jaydes kept his palm pressed to the notebook, as if hiding it could erase the fact that it existed. she stood near him now, closer than before, her presence steady and deliberate.
“what are you writing?” her voice was calm, like she already expected him not to answer.
he gripped the pen tighter. “nothing.”
she didn’t buy it—he could tell by the way her eyes lingered. “doesn’t look like nothing.”
jaydes felt heat crawl up his neck. he hated how easily she saw through things. “why are you even here?” he asked, sharper than intended.
“because you looked like you needed someone to be.”
the words landed heavy in his chest, too heavy. he glanced away, staring at the cracks in the wall like they could swallow him. “you don’t know what i need.”
“then tell me.”
he froze. the pen hovered above the page, unmoving. he wanted to shut her out, to laugh it off, to say something biting—but nothing came. the silence dragged until he felt it pressing into his lungs.
finally, he let out a rough exhale. “i don’t… talk. not about that shit.”
her response was simple, almost disarming: “so write it.”
jaydes looked up. her expression was soft, not mocking, not pitying—just open. and for the first time, he felt the smallest crack in the wall he’d built around himself.
he didn’t hand her the notebook. not yet. but his grip loosened on the pen, like maybe, just maybe, he would.
