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starcrossedxwriter · 24 days ago

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Still Standing Part 1 (Smoke x Black Reader)

Warnings: attempted assault, depictions of violence

A/N: idk how this became two parts yall 😭 I need self control. But this is just everything I love about Smoke in one fic lol enjoy!

***

With enough focus, Smoke could filter out every distraction except his target. And tonight? His target was you. His wife. Who had no business in a place like this by yourself. He made a note to chastise you about that after you cussed him out for his near decade disappearing act. He braced himself for that the entire train ride.

Eight years.

And now analyzing you from a distance, his body felt every painstaking moment of every single moment without you.

He supposed if you were going to be tending bar anywhere, it was safest at your Aunt Hattie’s, where he would have trusted your brothers to maintain a watchful eye. Though, at the moment, their eyes were doing more wandering than watching.

You could handle your own, you always could. He just wished every problem was not always on you. His eyes followed your movements as you charmed every patron with a smile that held all the warmth of the Delta. You continued to be the town’s favorite amongst the Williams family. Your wit, your charm, your grandmama’s healing gifts were traits every person in the town gravitated toward, shielding you from the troubles your brothers got into.

Grace shared that you still worked out of the house he built for you, off the beaten path. How you spent most of your time taking care of everyone in town without slowing down or caring for yourself. He imagined that was why you were even here now. Eight years ago, you barely liked to step foot into Hatties unless you could hold onto him. But now, you worked the bar as if you’d done it your entire life.

That dazzling smile that made him fight for every sunrise to get back to you, the gentle and sensual sway of your hips that made him want to grab hold of your ass and hold you against him, your sweet giggle that somehow rose above the jazz melody straight to his ear. A sound that had long started to fade in his mind. But now, it felt like the first stroke of warmth against his heart since he last saw you.

Mere moments back in you proximity caused all his safeguards to crumble into pure ash. The true extent of his everlasting love for you filled his being, a rush of everything he pushed deeply inside to survive in Chicago. He felt the burning flame in his heart he forced himself to reduce to a simmer, the rushing waterfall he slowed with a fortified dam.

“Just go n talk to her, nigga. Know you want to. Sulkin’ over here like you scared or some shit,” Stack muttered, both their hats dipped low enough to further obscure their identity and presence.

“Ain’t never been scared,” Smoke muttered back. Which was a half truth. He had been scared in his life, but it was too long ago to remember.

His inability to approach you yet had little to do with fear. He knew there would be anger, resentment. And it would be righteous. He would accept his licks like a man, apologize for abandoning you as he did, do whatever it took to earn your trust again.

But what you two shared? He had to believe there would be forgiveness once you said your piece. A belief only solidified by the ring dangling from your neck as you leaned over. His mother’s ring.

More than anything, he wanted to simply watch you. See if the you that danced through his dreams every single night was still… you.

His hand twitched toward his revolver more than once as niggas’ hands touched your body, even just to shove a few coins into your hands or shift around you. He was always ready to move but he found that he did not need to. You artfully dodged touches that lingered beyond acceptability, letting the men who vied for your attention down with the perfect balance of kindness and finality.

He was surprised at how long he and Stack were able to go unnoticed in the dim corner. The few who recognized them kept it to themselves, giving the twins a wide berth. The poor lighting provided the perfect cover. He could study you and you did not seem to know he was there. But you were always the perceptive sort, could always sense his presence somehow. So he was not shocked that, every once in a while, he noticed your eyes lingering amongst the crowd as if you were searching for someone but could not find them.

Occasionally, your honey smooth voice caught his ear again, healing some of the wounds he gained while away. All the intricacies and oddities he fell in love with at 14. seeing you brought it all rushing back into sharper focus.

He still remembered the moment he realized he was in love with you. Decades ago but it was as fresh as if it were yesterday in his mind.

Stack’s body had been a heavy weight to support all the way to Mama Mabel’s. But his father had done a number on him and the little bit of ointment and bandages he had left wouldn’t cut it this time. And it was far faster to take him to her than run there and back. And… it got them away from him.

So he walked a mile with his arm around Stack’s back, heaving his weight along as his feet tried to maintain his own weight.

“I can walk, Elijah.”

Smoke did not let go of his hold, knowing his brother just didn’t want anyone to see him like this.

He glanced up at Mama Mabel’s porch, unsurprised to find Miss Evie sweeping. She only looked at them once, noting the panicked look on his face, before immediately discarding her task.

“Mama! Twins here.” She called over her shoulder before rushing out of the shade to help him the last few feet. “Let me help you, boy.”

“I got em.”

“Yo pa?”

“Passed out. Drank so much, he won’t wake up till tomorrow.” His voice was matter of fact, no emotion. He didn’t know if he even had any left these days. “Worst day so far.”

She nodded, grabbing Stack’s other arm, though Elijah was reluctant to yield any of his weight to her.

He had him. He always did.

She helped Elias lay down on the cot in Mama Mabel’s shop, the sharp smells of her brews hitting his nose. He looked down at his brother, his usual slick smile diminished, his thin body bruised and bloodied from their father’s blows.

“Ran outta what I gave you already?” Mama Mabel emerged from her back room. However, when she took in Elias’ state, she simply bowed her head, cursing under her breath. She threw the damp towel in her hand to her daughter who took charge of dapping the sweat from the walk off his brow.

“Some men don’t deserve the blessin’ of life. Ole drunk,” Miss Evie muttered to her mother in irritation, quiet enough that Elijah shouldn’t have heard them. But he did.

“Hush now, girl. Sayin’ that in front of them.”

But it wasn’t something he didn’t think about every single day himself when he laid down at night.

“Yall gon’ stay here tonight.”

Elijah immediately shook his head. “We don’t wanna be no burden. Just didn’t have enough to bandage him up.”

“Well I’ll bandage him up n you’ll stay the night.”

He opened his mouth to argue but corrected himself. He knew arguing with Mama Mabel was futile.

He leaned against the wall in the corner, his body relaxing ever so slightly with every cut and bruise she tended to with such care. Some minute part of him envied receiving that, the healing touch of a mother. He did not know what that felt like anymore, what it felt like to be cared for. He supposed he would never know either.

The only thing guaranteed in life was suffering and the end. He didn’t expect much else.

“Go out there for me n see what’s takin’ that gal so long. Head always in the damn clouds when I need her workin’,” She called over to the teen watching her every move with precision.

He glanced out the open back window, a young woman kneeling in the soul of their garden with a woven basket by her side. The wind swayed the plaits falling down her back as she faced away from the house. Y/N kneeling in front of her garden with a basket.

He glanced back at Elias before she waved him along.

“He safe with us. Promise. Helpin’ Y/N will help me help him.”

And with that, he trudged out the back door and toward the garden where you sat.

Your voice reached him first, the soft humming you used to occupy yourself in the peace of your garden. It was soft, like a sweet melody. He liked it. So he did not interrupt at first, he just stood a few feet behind you, watching.

Your humming ceased as you sensed the silent presence of another. “I know, Granny. Movin’ too slow, I’m comin’” You turned, dusting off your knees. “Oh. E-Elijah. S-sorry, thought you were my...”

Your words fell off awkwardly as you teetered on your heels. His face twisted up in surprise. No one could truly tell them apart unless they were side by side. When they were separate, it always took a few minutes for someone to know who was who.

“Elias stay showin those teeth of his, always talkin. He easy to spot. Everythin�� alright? You ok?”

“Mama Mabel asked me to come check on you. See what’s takin’ so long.”

His eyes focused on your near empty basket, you shyly grinned, your eyes glancing at him with a childlike guilt in them.

“I was doin’ it. Promise. But I noticed some weeds n… Granny say I spend too much time tendin’ to the garden when I should be pickin’. Head always in the clouds. But I told her, “ain’t that where all the spirits and ancestors you teachin’ me bout are?’ Mama popped me in the mouth for that one.”

His lips curled into a rare half smile, which made your smile grow even brighter.

Shit.

Your smile felt like pure exhilaration. He considered it to be the most beautiful thing he had laid eyes on and there was God-given beauty all across the Delta. But it all paled in comparison to your sweet smile that held the warmth of the Sun.

“So you do smile… never thought I’d see the day. You should do it more,” you offered, your voice quieter as if the thought was more for yourself than him. Umm yea, tell her I’ll pick it up. Be in soon.”

He glanced around before rolling up his sleeves and dropping to his knees to help her.

“Oh you ain’t gotta-“

“I know. But then you can tend to your garden n I can pick for you. Mama Mabel won’t know the difference.”

Your smile became softer as if you were not used to help. But he knew the young people in any house were the help, there was no rest for able bodies.

“Thank you, Elijah.”

You quietly hummed This Little Light of Mine as you two worked, you taking care of the roots and soil while Elijah picked what you directed.

“How you doin?”

“Elias needed Mama.”

“Didn’t ask about Elias… know yo daddy, know how he doin if you brought him here. I asked about you.”

Elijah found that he still did not know how to answer that. So he lamely just answered, “Well, he ain’t hit me.”

“Don’t mean he ain’t hurtin’ you. Makin’ you watch it. Don’t mean you ain’t wounded or hurt just cause he the one in there. Hearts hurt just like a black eye. Just can’t see it n it don’t heal as fast.”

His movements stilled, your words an emotional gut punch he had not expected while gardening. He tried not to think about it, when their father hit them. The emotional agony it caused to watch Elias be subjected to the brunt of their father’s drunken rage. Some was due to his smart mouth, though it still never seemed to warrant the vitriol his father directed toward Elias. But Elijah knew that his father also recognized one unfortunate truth. Punches had no effect on Elijah. He offered no reaction, no anything. But hurting his brother did. So Elias often bore the brunt of their punishments.

And he hated his father for it.

“I have somethin’ that’ll help?”

“Don’t know if anythin’ help except…”

Your mother’s words cycled through his mind, a sentiment he felt more often than not when his father hit them. To just end his sorry existence so they could be free of him.

“Try. For me?” You asked, sweetly. “You gave me a smile… can’t give me one more thing?”

I want to give you the world, a small voice whispered in his head. An uncomfortable warmth spread in his chest and his stomach that had nothing to do with the sweltering Delta heat.

“Besides, can’t make you feel worse if it don’t work.”

Your eyes remained on his, inviting him to break a few rules with you, as your feet moved backward toward your family’s live oak tree in the distance. He didn’t immediately follow, torn between his intrigue with this perfect angel who captivated his being with one smile and his desire to stay close to his brother.

“Don’t worry. We ain’t goin’ far. Somethin’ happens, we can still hear them callin. Trust me, Elijah.”

His name on your lips sounded like every beautiful thing, the river bank by their shack, the sunrise on a new day, the calm of a rain storm sweeping the horizon. He’d pray for every sunrise to hear you say his name again.

And with that, you took off running toward the giant tree off in the distance. And he immediately took off after you, abandoning his task of helping you pick herbs faster.

Your running turned into a race as he caught up to you in seconds. Your laughter blended with the wind whipping past his ears, the sweetest melody he had ever heard. He only felt this relaxed, this free when he and Stack ran to the river to escape their father. Just pure exhilaration and freedom for a brief moment.

It had always been the rarest, fleeting air. One he thought he could only feel with his brother, his other half. But he could feel it here with you.

You both needed a moment to catch your breath once you were under the cool shade of your family tree, generations buried in the soul surrounding it.

“Granny brings me out here. Says healers need a place to heal themselves, release the pain we confront every day. Started makin’ me come out here when she started trainin’ me. It’s a good spot to feel it all.”

He glanced around. “What do you do?”

You shrugged as your body leaned against one of the low sweeping branches. “Whatever you wanna do. Cry, scream, just sit. Whatever feels like what you need. Whatever fills your spirit so you can take care of him n yourself tomorrow.”

You slid down onto the soft soil, your skirt billowing out into the grass, closed your eyes. He did not know if he believed this would accomplish anything but he also didn’t want to walk away. Not from you.

He plopped down unceremoniously next to you, both your backs pressed against the tree.

He remembered just sitting there, staring at your house in the distance. He didn’t even realize how you both unconsciously shifted closer and closer to each other until your small shoulder brushed against his.

He watched you mutter prayers under your breath, caught his and his brother’s names in your prayer for safety and protection. Then quiet. Stillness.

You slouched a bit so you could rest your head on his shoulder.

His entire body tensed beneath you. Not from fear but something else he couldn’t recognize. Like the action stole his breath away. The tenderness you offered was so unlike all he knew, all he remembered in his life. The last woman to hold him tenderly died shortly after giving birth to them. And then touch became a danger to combat, not a comfort to lean into.

You seemed to not even realize what you’d done, immediately popping up, a guilty look on your face.

“Sorry. Touch is… important to me. But I should know it ain’t for everybody.”

“Nah nah… it was… fine,” he offered lamely. “My shoulder’s all yours if you need it. Want it.”

You grinned, resting your head back where it was. Something in him settled again with your weight against him.

“A smile and your shoulder? I think that means we friends now.”

He chuckled humorlessly. “Ain’t too good at friends.”

“I gotta feelin’ you’d be good to me.”

His head rested on yours and you just sat, in utter silence. Elijah sniffled as he felt a tear fall as he sat. He tried to lift his arm to whisk it away discreetly but you rested a hand on his arm.

“Nobody gon see you out here. N no one will hear it from me. Rest, Elijah. Let em fall if you need it. I’m here.”

And there, under the weighing branches of your tree, he rested. He allowed himself to feel all the pain he bottled up day after day to survive in their corner of the world, to survive in his own home.

It hit him in peaks and every time he felt himself wanting to clam up, close himself off again, you just grabbed his hand. And when he heard your sniffles, saw your tears, he just returned the favor.

He didn’t know how much time passed, he found that with you, he didn’t care about the time. And you only moved when you both heard your mama calling for dinner.

You both sighed, a sadness at the end of your quiet moment feeling like more of a sharp pain than anything else. He didn’t want this to end. But he needed to check on Elias.

“Granny’s gon’ kill me,” you muttered as you scooped up the only half filled basket Elijah discarded once you were back in the yard.

And while she didn’t kill you, thankfully in Elijah’s opinion, she did cuss you seven times to Sunday for wasting an afternoon and taking your time when there was work to do. And after dinner, instead of getting to go to sleep, you were tasked with cleaning up her shop and restocking her brews when she finished them - whatever time that would be. Since “you already rested enough for the day.”

You were quiet the rest of the day, forlorn and despondent through dinner, so you didn’t say much to him as night fell and everyone in the house prepared to rest.

Everyone except you two.

When your grandma finally went to sleep herself, leaving you to your task that would take the rest of the night, Elijah finally came inside from the porch. Your back was to the door but you sensed him yet again, how your hand stilled over the giant pot of whatever your grandmother brewed.

“Sorry. Don’t mean to get you in trouble, takin’ care of me.”

You shook your head and abandoned your task to close the space between them. Peace. It disappeared when they left their spot under the tree. But he felt it when you were close.

“Don’t. Knew what trouble I was bringing myself when I did it. But if it helped you, it was worth it.” She paused, chewing her lip as she timidly asked. “Did it? Help?”

He found himself nodding. “It did. You got a gift, Y/N.”

“Good. Then one night of lost sleep ain’t a thing. Now you go to sleep, brought that out for you.” She pointed toward a small cot and pillow situated beside his brothers. “I’ll keep an eye on em.”

“Thank you, Y/N.”

He slid into bed as he tried to quiet the litany of confusing thoughts racing through his head. He had never felt this way before. But when he should be worried about his slumbering brother or determine how to free them from their father, there was only one thing at the center of the tornado in his head.

You.

“I’ll be good to you, Y/N. A good friend to you, I promise.”

The words were so quiet, he was not confident you heard him. But then he heard the faintest sniffle, saw hastily turn to wipe away a falling tear before turning back to him with a smile that said more than words ever could.

“And I’ll be good to you, Elijah. I promise. Get some sleep.”

He chuckled, turning over so he wouldn’t get distracted by examining you.

“Yes, ma’am.”

But even as he buried himself in his pillow on his cot, one that smelled so perfectly of you, he knew that he didn’t want to be your friend. He wanted to be so much more.

His love sick walk down memory lane ended as swiftly as it sparked when he noticed a man lingering at the bar chatting with you, even after finishing his drink.

He tilted his head slightly toward Stack. His brother never forgot a face.

“You don’t remember that nigga? Red. Grew up down the road, Ms. Sally took him in after his mama died. Daddy probably dead now too. Damn drunk. Ran off Nawlins the first chance he got. You know half the niggas in town had a thing for Y/N."

Smoke studied the terrain, realizing that he could not shoot this man across a crowded barn, though that was the simplest option. But he always knew that patience and opportunity were the key to strike. Never too early, never too late. Besides, Red knew exactly whose you were. And only a man desperate to meet their maker would touch what belonged to Smoke Moore.

Stack let out a deadly chuckle as Red grabbed your hand unexpectedly, your face twisting up in shock for the briefest second before you smiled and discreetly tore your hand from his grasp.

“You gon’ take care of that?” Stack asked, gesturing toward you.

Smoke let his discreet loading of his revolver answer that question for him. The man clearly had a death wish. Smoke was more than happy to ensure it came true.

“Shame. Liked that Red. Never knew what was good for him tho,” Stack mumbled.

He continued to watch, waiting for his moment to strike, to remind everyone in the room who Smoke Moore was when you yelled something over your shoulder in your aunt’s direction and stepped from behind the bar.

You still didn’t see him, even as you navigated the sweaty, teeming dance floor to reach the back storage room. Smoke did not even try to hide in the shadows this time, you were just that preoccupied with your own thoughts. So preoccupied he realized that you didn’t notice how Red waited long enough to drink his shot before following after you.

Smoke knew what that meant. What that always meant. Smoke was not even the jealous twin. But Red made a choice. To make you visibly uncomfortable. To pursue his woman in front of half the town. He toyed, briefly, with the idea that you and Red were… more. And that this was simply part of that. But then he realized that he did not particularly care. Whether or not this was your choice was fairly irrelevant to him.

If this man was courting you, he’d kill him.

If this man was trying to cause you harm, he’d kill him.

Mercy was your tool… but it had never been his. he had considered just shooting Red in the hand to prove a point originally. However, now? The die had been cast.

He had a reminder to issue: whatever happened while he was gone was over. He was back and no one would touch what belonged to him and live to tell the tale.

He cocked his gun before moving in your direction. He had been gone too long and people had clearly forgotten who the fuck he was.

Judge.

Jury.

But most importantly… Executioner.

***

“Come on, sweetness. Gimme a smile.”

“Done smillin’ for you, Red. Get on so I can get a payin’ customer up here.”

You had grown weary from Red’s tired advances long ago. He tried, week after week, coming to your home with ailments and aches just so you would patch him up. Since his wife ran off with another man a few years back, you tried to be there for him. After all, you were, unfortunately, the town’s expert on disappearing spouses. You understood the depths of his grief, to lose the person you loved because their spirit demanded something else of them. Whether for love, greed, power, or something more righteous. The one left behind was left broken and alone all the same.

But Red mistook your kindness for affection. And sadness, desperation, and liquor were an unfortunate combination. The more he drank, the more relentless he became. Hattie helped remind some folks whose last name you carried but some… like Red were often too drunk to listen or care.

And on Saturdays at Hattie’s, he was his drunkest.

“But I’m your favorite customer, ain’t I, Y/N?”

You ain’t

“It’s bad for business to have favorites,” you offered with an awkward smile.

“Get me another,” he demanded.

You knew it would be a long night if you were already about to pour his fifth glass. He already smelled like someone swapped his blood out with a bottle of what you were pouring.

“N while you at it, tell me, why aint you spoken for?”

You used your apron to quickly dab the beads of sweat off your forehead before you grabbed a glass.

“You know damn well I’m spoken for, Red.”

He threw his head back in exuberant laughter.

You knew one person who would not find it as hilarious. Your husband. Wherever in the world he might be right now.

Elijah “Smoke” Moore.

Though only you and his brother knew him as Elijah. Everyone else? Smoke. And his chilling reputation far out lasted his presence in their small town. Seven years later and most still get a bit more jumpy when someone mentions the twins.

While you never agreed with his way, you could not deny it served you well. For the most part, no one caused you trouble. Why would anyone want to be on your list of grievances should Smoke ever come back into town?

You always prayed he would return but you knew it was foolish to hope for it. You whispered his name along the evening breeze in your nightly prayers, merely hopeful for that moment that your comfort reached him in his corner of the world.

While you were not waiting on his return, you also had not “moved on.” You tried, Lord knows you tried. You thought it would heal you, satisfy you to be close to someone again. But the high it gave you was impermanent. It vanished from your grasp like literal smoke.

Because of Smoke.

It was a crushing discovery to realize that the itch you needed to scratch would never be satiated by anyone else.

Your need was to be healed. And only one person could do that. Because Smoke was the first man in your life who tended to you first and foremost.

You spent your days since childhood caring for everyone else. It was your calling and you were grateful to the ancestors for it. But it left no time for you. But in Smoke’s arms? He cared for you, allowed you to feel all the pain and pleasure of the world, allowed you to fall apart and be vulnerable. His touch methodically healed the aches, pains, and sufferings that no one else saw.

And that’s what you desired, craved in the loneliness of the night. Not a warm body or a tryst in Red’s barn. Not fucking that was over before it began for you. You yearned for the other half of your heart. To be tended to and loved on. And the man who had your heart was hundreds of miles away. So you grieved that part of your life. If it could not be that, if it couldn’t be him… it was not worth giving more of your spirit.

And you made peace with what was lost when he left. You were heavy hearted, broken, but you found it difficult to even conjure up rage toward him after a few days. Because you understood that he would never choose you and the quiet life you desired over him.

You knew Elijah loved you with everything. That was never in question. But if you were half of his heart, Stack was the other half of his soul. One could not survive, not fully, without the other. And Stack needed more than their town could offer. And Smoke needed Stack.

Despite your fear that you’d laid eyes on him for the last time, you made no effort to share that with your neighbors or stop being Smoke’s woman. A woman without a man was one without protection, you knew that much. So you relied on whatever kept you safe: your prayers and his threats. You counted both as help, both as a blessing.

“By who? One of them crazy Moore twins? Haven’t seen that nigga or the other one twin here no where to speak for nobody. Seems like you free to do what you want. You could give me a dance, sweetness.”

His hand grasped yours as you pushed the glass his way. His grip was firm so it took you a moment before you could rip your hand out of his embrace.

“Well I ain’t seen him round neither but I’m still spoken for. If you knew what was good for you, you’ll take that drink ’n get the hell on, Red,” you warned, your voice losing some of its sweetness.

“Need a couple more bottles, Y/N.”

You didn’t need to turn around to recognize the sharp voice of your aunt, Hattie Mae.

Your grandfather opened this joint twenty years ago and it was still standing. "Weathered and worn but still standing," he'd say. Your aunt took over when he died and you started helping her a few months ago after she hurt herself. Your brothers were useless at the bar and Hattie said it helps to have a pretty face serving up the drinks. So you helped out where you could on the weekends. You always found Hattie’s to be overwhelming, preferring to stay glued to Smoke’s arm when you went together. But you found peace behind the bar, being able to watch the hustle and bustle from afar. The extra money did not hurt.

You’d typically demand one of your brothers carry the heavy bottles for your aunt but you’d welcome any excuse to escape Red’s leering eye.

“I got it, Auntie Mae.”

You used the walk to dry your hands, both were sweaty and clammy from the heat of the Delta mixed with all the bodies and dancing.

You pushed through your exhaustion, the aches and pains in your limbs more pronounced without the distractions of people and music. You had been feeling it more lately as you leaned for a moment against a shelf. You were just like this joint. Weathered and worn. Sadder than you once were. But you were still standing too. Was there any other choice?

You balanced four bottles in your arms before determining that it was your limit. However, you almost dropped every last one of them when you turned to find Red waiting in the door frame.

“God almighty, Red! You scared me! You gon’ stand there blockin’ the door or let me get these back out to Hattie?”

He was as immobile as a tree as you tried to go around him. He did not answer you or speak, the silence putting you on edge. You loved a man like that, whose silence was a weapon, his greatest tool. You gravitated toward his silence.

But Red was not him. His silence unsettled you, forced your eyes to search for a path that would lead you away from him.

“Red. This ain’t funny. Get outta my way. You know how Hattie gets. I gotta get back to the bar.”

“Lord knows I’ve been thinkin’ bout you ever since my wife left.”

You typically didn’t feel fear. There was no need with generations of ancestors watching over you. But as his hand closed the door and the screech of the latch hit your ear. You felt it like a tiny seed sprouting in your belly.

Fear.

You immediately retreated as he advanced.

“I’m married, Red. You too. ’N you drunk as a skunk. Now let me outta here.”

“My wife gone, your husband been gone. Dead in a ditch somewhere knowin’ that nigga. You got the entire town ‘fraid to dance withchu cause of him? But see… I ain’t afraid of no dead man, Y/N. Aint scared of no ghost story. Don’t act like you don’t want me too, sweetheart.”

“Red… I d-don’t want you o-or anyone. We can forget about this tomorrow, just let me go.”

“After I waited years for this? Nahhh, baby. Ain’t ever lettin’ you go now. You’re mine. Helpin’ me night after night. Checkin’ on me after that bitch ran off. You’re the light of my days, sweetheart.”

This could only be described as irony in its cruelest form. A forced reflection on your own naiveté, you supposed. You remembered something you said to your husband once, early in your courtship, when he asked you why you never called him Smoke.

“Because everyone else needs you to be Smoke. Here I… just want you to be Elijah.”

And he bowed his head, shaking it as his hand gripped the meat of your thigh.

“You need Smoke too, baby. No one is ever gon’ hurt my family. I’m here to protect you. You need him. Everybody do.”

Elijah had always been… heavy. Weighed down by all the things he had done, from such a young age, to protect the people he loved. And as much as you adored being loved by him, you did not want to be another person who burdened his soul with more. More suffering, more pain. His life was in service of keeping everyone else safe. And he cared nothing of the cost to his soul to do so. But you cared because you knew it would only get heavier.

“Stack need Smoke. The fools you run with need Smoke. Hell, this town might even need Smoke. But me? I don’t need Smoke. I need Elijah, the boy who picked herbs for me. The one who holds me close to his chest durin’ storms. Smoke is… He ain’t the Elijah I know.”

But as your back pressed against the rough wood panels, Red’s body boxing you in, you realized, for the first time, you needed Smoke.

Not the threat of him.

Him. And all his silent fury.

And every bit of trouble that came along with him to get out of this.

“R-Red, I was just tryin’ to help. Just tryin’-”

He grabbed your chin roughly, the shock causing every bottle in your arms to crash down at your feet. The sharp scent of liquor swarmed you both like a cloud as the liquid seeped into your shoes and splattered along the bottom of your dress.

His other hand gripped your wrist as he kissed you roughly.

“S-Stop! R-Red.”

“I bet you just need a good fuckin’. Been years since that sorry nigga left, left this good pussy. Nigga should’ve known better than to leave a sweet pussy like this unclaimed. Think it’s my turn now. Bet I can fuck you bett-”

Your eardrums could have exploded from the cacophony of pure noise cutting of Red’s drunken ranting.

Your head spun as you tried to locate the sudden shrill scream filling the tiny storage room. You did not even realize Red was no longer pressing his weight against you until you saw him clutching his knee, on the floor as crimson blood slid down his leg.

You clutched your chest for a moment, your heart pounding loudly in your ears, your eyes trained on Red’s writhing frame in a giant puddle of moonshine. Your brain felt sluggish and slow, several steps behind whatever just happened. You forced your eyes away from Red to understand. Did you need to protect yourself? Was the threat to you too? Who even shot him? That was one answer your vision could find immediately. However, your survey ended within a millisecond, your eyes landing on him.

“Smoke.” A grateful sob of relief escaped as your body sagged into the wall.

His eyes softened at the sound of your voice, the mixture of fear, panic, gratitude, and pure love.

“Y/N. Y/N!” His voice snapped you out of the chaos of the last few minutes.

He focused you. A light in dense fog.

His voice softened once your eyes flickered to his.

“You good, baby. We got you. Step over here to Stack.”

Another version of him stepped from around the corner. He pulled his hat off his head and tipped it toward you, a deadly smirk painted on his lips.

Stack.

Your brain sought to obey him, to listen to the man you loved. But your legs did not feel strong enough to move, strong enough to carry you the few steps across the room to him and Stack.

How did this happen?

How were they even here?

Why were they here?

So you simply stared at him, not fully believing they were real. Your eyes clouded with everything flooding you that demanded to be made sense of before you could move forward. There was no calm in this, leaving you paralyzed.

“Nigga just shook her up. He ain’t goin’ no where. Give her a second.”

“We ain’t got a second.” Smoke turned his attention back to you. “Y/N. Darlin’. I need you to move.”

A command. The softness in his tone disappeared as he snapped you out of your stupor. Your feet moved instinctively, scurrying around Red to reach Stack. You felt Smoke’s hand brush your hip as you got behind him. The touch simply communicated what your body and soul instinctively knew: you were safe.

Stack put a protective arm around your waist as soon as you were in his reach.

“She good, Smoke.”

“Take her. Wait outside.”

You pushed against Stack’s arm trying to drag you along as his words settled in your brain. While you were grateful Red was unable to carry out whatever plot his drunk mind concocted, you did not want him murdered for it.

In fact, you considered being shot in the kneecap a satisfactory punishment for what Red attempted, what he would not even likely remember doing in the morning. He learned his lesson and now would live with a limp for the rest of his life to show for it. Wasn’t that enough?

“W-wait, wait, wait, Smoke. He got your point. I’m okay. Let him go.”

But even as you spoke those words, you knew they did not shift his position. The murderous glimmer in his eye, his coldness, reminded you while Elijah softened for you, Smoke was not a man who bent nor one who could be softened. His decision was cast and Red’s death was as certain as sunrise the next morning. But you would not be you if you did not try. Would not be the woman he loved if you did not ask him to try something different.

You tried to push Stack’s arm off you to go to Smoke’s side but he refused to loosen his grip.

“Smoke, h-he’s just a lonely ole drunk. You gave em a limp. That's enough."

Stack chuckled. "Niggas get a limp for stealin'. This shit tho? Puttin' his hands on you?" he shook his head. "Every nigga in here know what that means."

"But it ain’t worth it. He ain't worth it. Trust me, he's just drunk... harmless. He won't bother me again."

“I am! Harmless, Smoke. You know I ain’t mean nothin’ by it. I'll leave the bitch alone for good, I swear 'fore God.”

Stack's head fell back as his barking laugh ricocheted around the room. Smoke still had not said a single word. Just fired his warning shot.

“I told you that nigga ain’t know what was good for him, Smoke. Let’s go, Y/N.”

His arm tightened around your waist to drag you out the door, clearly tired of the man’s pleas which were only serving to make his end more painful.

“Let me go, Stack!”

“So he can shoot me too? Nah girl. Unlike this nigga, I like bein’ able to fuckin' walk. Can't be a pimp like me with no a damn limp. This grown men’s business now n I know you don’t wanna see this shit. Let’s go.”

You glared at him, raising an eyebrow in a challenge, still refusing to make this easy on him.

Stack glanced at his brother for a brief moment, their silent conversation passing before Stack turned back to you.

He leaned over, whispering in your ear, “Ain’t nothin’ you say gon’ change what’s about to happen. He was dead the moment he laid a hand on you. Accept that shit, aight? Ain’t no sense in feelin’ guilty bout it either. Ain’t the first man he threw to bottom of the Mississippi for you, won’t be the last. Now come on. If it’ll help, saw some flowers on the way in. You can pick some for his homegoing’,” he offered the last bit sarcastically.

He could never hold a serious moment for long.

But you heard the empathy hiding in his harshness. A reminder that as crazy as he was, Stack still understood you and he understood Smoke, and the chasm that sometimes existed when you were confronted with the violence they perpetuated. Particularly in your name.

You spent your life attempting to mend what violence broke, what it destroyed, what often felt like inevitabilities. But you could not stop this. And he knew that as soon as he glanced at his brother. And in your heart, he knew you knew it too. And like his brother, he was trying to protect you, in his own slick talking way, absolve you from the guilt he already knew was rushing to your shores.

That was the Elias you grew up with. And as much as you two bickered like true siblings, you knew there was nothing Stack would not do for you because you loved his brother and his brother loved you.

Your eyes settled on Smoke’s profile, his eyes trained on the invisible line connecting the barrel of his gun to the space between Red’s eyes. He tore them away for one moment to look at you. Your eyes communicated a fear you’d never admit in front of Stack. You accepted Red’s fate but there was another fear, one that made it impossible to stop resisting Stack’s force.

“I’m right behind you, darlin’. I promise. Get out or he'll drag you out.”

You didn’t speak, a shaky exhale communicating everything you needed him to know. You were grateful that you had not had to ask, that he simply saw what truly ailed you. More than trying to save the life of a man who did not deserve your mercy, you were terrified to let him out of your sight. You feared that if you stepped out of this room, even for a moment, he’d disappear like smoke in the air for another eight years.

Uninterested in being hauled over the shoulder of the second most infamous man in town, you acquiesced to Stack’s firm hand on your waist, allowing him to push you out the door.

“Red, I’d say enjoy your last moments but I know my brother and… I think he gon’ enjoy ‘em a hell of a lot more than you.”

However, before he closed the door, you heard Smoke’s low voice.

“Just so we clear, this me speakin’.”

“N-No, no, no, no! Smo-”

Stack dragged you just far enough away to not to hear what you knew came next.

***

Stay tuned for part two!

A/N: No tags because it was a fight to get this up and I'm exhausted LOL but there is a part two with reader and Smoke's private reunion when they get home. Hope you enjoyed it! Drop a comment and let me know what you thought or if you'd like to be tagged in part 2!

#black writers #michael b jordan #michael b jordan x oc #sinners #sinners fanfiction #smoke Moore x reader #Smoke x reader #fic: still standing

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thecoochiefairy · 5 months ago

Text

gamer girlz. onyankopon.

𑄽𑄺 warnings 𑄽𑄺 4.6K word count. blackfem!reader, drabble, college football coded! onyankapon, grumpy!onyankapon, sweet!onyankapon, dominant!onyankapon, kinda sorta makeup sex?, couch sex , black woman, vaginal penetration, rough, lil bit of sweet talkin’, hair pulling, creaming, oral [f] [m], choking, praising, LOTS of dirty talk, backshots, missionary, condomless sex, cumming on face, kissing, spanking, just a fine ass black man, minors aren’t welcome!

━━ 𝒄𝙤𝒐𝙘𝒉𝙞𝒆𝙛𝒂𝙞𝒓𝙮 𝙩𝒉𝙤𝒖𝙜𝒉𝙩𝒔 .ᐟ day 283737272 of liyah’s ovulation and faithful celibacy pact meaning she’s having the most nasty, egregious thoughts. please enjoy my black man fantasies. the links inspired this fic heavily, so enjoy those too.

𝓐ᥫ᭡ :: onyankopon just wants to help you finish your game.

link. link. link. ony’s visuals.

YOUR FINGERS SHOULD'VE HURT AT THIS POINT. Swiftly moving from button to button, they tap the controls as you’re on another level of the game you desperately wanted to beat.

You had some time off of studying, and this is how you wanted to spend it. Your boyfriend was at football practice—although a part of you just wanted to be swarmed up in his arms, your attention span also had you elsewhere—this damn game. You enjoyed the older games, replaying the hardest version of Batman: Arkham Asylum, your boredom peaking your interest back in the game you’d had since childhood.

You didn’t even register that the door had opened, or maybe you didn’t just care enough. You knew who it was. You eye him dropping his keys against the counter, black hoodie over his head, sharp jaw grunting lightly from his sore muscles, scowl along his face—definitely had to do with practice.

You pause the game for a second, turning your face to the side, fuzzy socks along your feet, his large jersey slung along your body as you greet him, “Hell, baby. What they’ do to you?”

“Coach was on dick today. Had me running laps cause other niggas couldn’t catch the ball and I got mad,” he huffs, taking his helmet and slamming it on the counter next to him. He massages the nape of his neck, sighing deeply to himself.

“Now you know coach don’t like all that cussing on his field,” you sigh, “He knows you're good. That’s why he’s on your ass.”

“Nah. He just annoying as fuck. Can’t expect me to do everything.”

He’s like a child, grumpy and pouty. His tall frame comes closer, wanting your attention in response to his rough day at practice.

“How’s my baby?” he says in your ear, wrapping his large muscular arms around your waist and gently biting your shoulder. His broad frame shadows under his hoodie, tat against his face shining under the lights of your shared apartment, full lips moisturized—you’d never let him leave the house otherwise.

You give him a soft laugh, rubbing your fingers over his durag as you say, “I’m fine. Had some time off studying, tryna’ beat this game. I meant what I said, Ony. He doesn’t just give you a hard time because he’s bored. You’re his star player, gotta make sure he ain’t treating you like everybody else.”

“Don’t tell me you on yo’ nerdy stuff. C’mon. I’m sore,” he groans, his grip around your waist tightens and he pushes himself against you.

“Oh, is it nerdy shit when you’ screaming on the game playing 2K with your friends? I was gonna offer a little massage. Now you’ve lost your entry to that,” you say, trying to push him off of you, reaching for the controller in between your lap.

He doesn’t budge. He holds firmly onto you, pressing sloppy kisses against your neck to distract you.

“Don’t be like that. I was kidding, you know I like that shit,” he huffs, his breath against your neck as he presses his lips on the sensitive part of your skin, “Forgot to tell you, I got an away game coming up in a few weeks. So I’ll be gone for like, a week.”

Your head comes down a bit to look directly at him, “What? You’re not coming with me to my parents? You know the holidays are coming up, Onyankopon. I told them you’d be there.”

“You know imma’ just be sitting around hiding behind you,” he murmurs against your skin, his hot breath tickling you.

It’s not that he’s shy— rather, he just doesn’t enjoy the unnecessary attention.

“How ‘bout we do our own Christmas, before I go?”

He’s nuzzling himself against your neck now, his hands roaming all along your body. You press his body away from yours, standing up as you become annoyed.

You then say, “I wouldn’t be going up to my parents place if you didn’t agree to come with me in the first place,” going into the kitchen, searching through the freezer.

He runs a hand over his face, seeing how instantly irritated you became. He knew having his support for the holidays meant a lot to you, and he might’ve waited on telling you about the going away game to lessen your disappointment.

“Mama,” he calls, watching you from the sofa.

You turn, raising an eyebrow as you say, “Oh, so now I’m Mama, you love hitting me with that shit when you know I’m mad.”

“You know I don’t like going to those family functions, I swear that house always stinks cause yo’ auntie cooks that nasty ass fish. A week ain’t no big deal. Let’s just have our own thing here.”

“So which one is it? You don’t wanna go or you got your football shit?” You narrow your eyes, pulling the ice pack from the freezer, arms crossed as you come back closer to him.

He knows better than to lie, especially to you.

“They got some NFL scouts coming to this game,” he mutters, scratching his temple. I’m sorry. But I’m tryna’ go pro, you know that.”

“Mhm.”

You hand him the ice pack, “Put it on your knee. I know it’s been sore lately.”

He raises an eyebrow, “You’ not mad?”

“Did I say I was mad? You’ want the ice pack or not?”

He takes the ice pack, wincing once the coldness hits his knee. He knew you were gonna give him a scolding if he didn’t.

“You’ got a bad ass attitude right now.”

“I wonder why, Onyankopon? If we had plans to go back to your parents house for the holidays and at the last minute I told you I have exams and that I just didn’t wanna go, you’d be irritated too.”

“Damn, you gon’ be on my ass about this for the next three weeks?”

He didn’t like it when you were like this, cause instead of being pissed you were more disappointed, which was somehow a lot worse to him.

“I’m gonna be gone for a week.”

You scratch your nails in between the baby blue orchid claw-clip that holds your curls. You dismiss him, “You need to go shower.”

“What, you ain’t tryna’ join me?” he murmurs, a smirk on his lips, “Quit being mad. I’m tryna love on you. Wanna put on The Isley Brothers and give you a rub down.”

“You’re playing too much right now,” you deadpan, “Bye Onyankopon.”

“What’ you mean bye?” he says, his smirk turning into a frown.

“I’m finna’ go finish studying,” you’re already walking back towards the bedroom, ending the conversation off as that.

When you finally hear him smack his lips and make his way into the shower, you glance over your notes, deciding you weren’t gonna let him ruin your previous plans. You’re now back on the sofa, eyes set onto the screen, trying to defeat the computer generated opponent.

You switch over to the sound of the bathroom opening, seeing him re-tying his durag back on, basketball shorts baggy and house shoes on his feet. His tattoos all along his face, neck, chest and arms always had your attention—but not as much attention as you usually gave him at this moment. You sprawled along the furniture, elbow deep into the couch's pillow as one leg laid straight out, while the other bent itself over the top of the couch.

He doesn’t like how you’re paying no attention to him. As stupid as it sounds, he’s always got to have your eyes on him. They were pretty.

“You’ still mad? You for real ain’t finna’ give me a massage?”

“I’m good,” you swiftly respond, “Just playing my game. You can massage yourself.”

“Why you’ gotta be like this?”

He sits down next to you, his large frame takes up a lot of the space. The couch becomes smaller somehow. His eyes watch the game intently before he decides to get comfortable. Lying back down on the sofa, he lets his head rest in your lap. Even with you being irritated, you let him lay there.

You continue going up level by level, your focus intently on the game. The little argument between you and Onyankopon irritated you to say the least, but you didn’t have the energy to completely push him away. It’s unfortunate he was persuasive. You notice out the corner of your eye that he lifts his head a little, the warmth between your legs along the back of his neck, and that’s when he sees that you’re wearing nothing under his jersey.

He takes the time to admire you, legs lazily hung open, his eyes staring directly against your pussy, scenting of vanilla on your legs, freshly shaven. One of his large hands comes to rest on the back of your thick thigh, rubbing small circles with his thumb.

“What you’ got on?” he mutters.

“Had to wash clothes, didn’t have any underwear. That’s why I put on your jersey,” you tell him, eyes still not looking at his face, unable to see how his jaw clenched at the sight.

He doesn’t say anything for a few seconds. In that moment his large hand rubs along the skin on your thigh, pushing the jersey up further.

“You look good as fuck in my shit,” He mumbles, a low rasp in his tone.

“Thank you,” you say in a softer tone, mainly because you’re distracted, buttons pressing harder against the controller.

He can tell how focused you are—how your face scrunched up, the way your fingers move, even the way your thighs fall open on his head.

That’s when you feel him lean down, giving a gentle peck to your inner thigh. The feeling makes you tense a bit, but you still keep your eyes against the screen, huffing out a breath as your character is close to dying. This level was difficult.

He’s giving small, light kisses along the sensitive flesh of your inner thigh, taking small intervals to glance up to you as you keep your eyes against the screen. His hand moves higher up on your leg, slowly pushing the jersey up even more.

Your eyes go to him for a millisecond, seeing as his head is down, lips attached to your thighs, sucking ever so gently on your skin. You can almost feel a pressure building in your stomach, the slow ache of his movements almost purposeful, teasing you in a way. You press your glasses up against your face, huffing out a breath as you mutter, “Stupid ass level,” trying to come up with a reason as to why you sound so breathless.

He grins as he’s laying there, hearing your breathing getting heavier. It’s obvious how hard you’re trying to focus on the game, but he’s working you up.

“You’ trying so hard, Mama,” He murmurs against your hot skin, his kisses trailing to the spot he knows is extra sensitive.

You shift your body, clearing your throat as you say, “Gotta restart,” adjusting your legs a bit, opening them up just a little more than before.

He can tell how you’re slowly giving in, how you’re shifting your body around, legs opening just enough for him to move closer. He lets his free hand come to caress your stomach, rubbing against the skin under the fabric of the jersey. His lips are so close to you, his breath is hot against your skin.

“Restart then,” He mutters, tongue now coming to flick out from his lips, gliding across your skin, hiding beneath the pillows of his lips as they begin sucking a dark red mark against you.

You narrow your eyes lightly as you restart the level you play, but your body is distracted by Onyankopon’s lips along it. You drag your teeth along your lip a bit, pressing your fingers harder into the controller, feeling his lips coming up higher.

You could feel the arousal you had flooding in between the lips of your pussy, protecting your clit as it now begins to pool farther down, dampening the couch. His large fingers wrap along the outside of your thighs, using his thumbs to pull the skin on the inside apart, showing the dark pink of your pussy, squelching at his presence. Your body tenses even more as you feel his thumb meet with your clit, rubbing so softly against it, dropping his mouth down to press another kiss to your skin. The leg hiked up against the top of the sofa trembles a bit.

“You’ winning?” You hear him murmur against your skin.

You take a deep inhale, squeezing your fingers against the hooks of your controller as you softly reply, “No.”

He circles your clit with maddeningly light touches, barely grazing the swollen nub. At the same time, he’s still pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses, occasionally grazing his teeth.

"You’ getting distracted. Wet ass pussy," Onyankopon murmurs appreciatively, feeling the slick evidence of your arousal coating his finger.

Your chest heaves a bit at his tone, but you don’t let up. You keep your eyes on the screen, but you seem to be losing. In both games.

He spreads you even wider as he leans in closer, hot breath fanning over your slick folds. He pulls his thumb back as he replaces it with his mouth, giving you an innocent kiss against your clit. His beard captures your arousal, your fingers shuddering as you hear him groan, “Ooh, fuck, Mama. You’ wet for real.”

Without warning, he seals his lips around your clit and sucks, tongue flicking rapidly over the sensitive bud. He releases it with a lewd pop before trailing open-mouthed kisses along your slit, lapping up your dripping arousal. Your eyebrows deepen into a frown, lips trembling as you give one more press to your controller, before you take your hand and reach it to the back of his head, getting a clutch against the knot of his durag. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, clasping your mouth shut as you whimper for him.

He delves his tongue deeper between your opened folds, dragging it up and down, lapping up to create more secretion. His hands grip your thick thighs, spreading you obscenely wide as he eats you out like a starving man.

"Mmmm, this a nigga favorite fuckin’ meal," he rumbles, voice muffled by your flesh. He alternates between slurping you up and flicking rapidly, determined to make you fall apart. One hand slides up to grope your ass roughly, kneading the plush flesh.

“O—Ony…” you gasp, voice small and high pitched, fingers squeezing harder against his head, dropping the controller out of your other hand, the object hitting the ground with a thud. The music of the battle within the game becomes something you hear, but not as loud as his mouth gulping you down, heavy tongue sopping against your pussy, drenching his beard so much that he could drown in you.

“Pretty ass voice,” he encourages huskily, the vibrations from his words sending shockwaves through your core. He dips two thick fingers knuckle-deep into your weeping cunt, pumping them slowly as he continues his relentless assault on your clit with his tongue. The wet sounds of him feasting on your pussy fill the room, mixing obscenely with the forgotten video game noises.

His free hand roams your curves possessively, groping and squeezing every inch of exposed skin he can reach—your ass, your thighs, the underside of your breasts. You’re lost in a haze of pleasure.

You were always so sensitive to his touch, the pleasure that you received from him kept you so kidnapped that it was hard to be mad at him. You grind your clit along his mouth that waits to catch it, voice ineffective of composure as you struggle, “Gonna cum soon, Ony…”

“Yeah?” He grunts, head knocking up and down, your eyes only able to watch as his lower face disappears in between your legs, glistening a coat against his beard, “Where you wanna cum?”

“On your dick, baby…” you whine softly, rotating your hips gently to match his moments, “Please…”

"You wanna cum on your dick, Mama?” He coos against you, the sound reverberating through your core, you’re whimpering with an urgent nod, “Mhm,” before he can even finish his sentence.

He pulls himself back, already tugging his tip from beneath his basketball shorts, taking off the material as your eyes follow the curve, the vein in his dick, heavy against the stretch of his large palm. Tattoos spread against his pelvic, scriptures and inspirational quotes that didn’t belong in his blasphemous moment.

"Turn around, put that ass in the air for me.“

Your legs feel a bit numb, bringing yourself up as you know exactly how he wants you. Raising your left leg along the arm of the couch, you lean your breast over the top as your face hides beneath your arm, right knee digging into the seat of it. He places his fingers along the side of your neck, other hand digging into your thigh thrown over the furniture. He doesn’t have to tell you to look at him—you always give him your eyes, feline as they blank beneath his control. Your body trembles as he slams his palm against your ass, “Arch more,” your body following suit, deepening the valley your silhouette creates.

He grips your hip with bruising force, using the leverage to grind the swollen head of his dick teasingly along your soaked slit. Up and down, he rubs himself through your slick folds, coating his length in your essence. Your hips tense as you feel the weight of his tip stretching open your pussy, sinking in that it makes your abdomen cramp, aching in a pleasure that has your entire body tighten. Your eyes are beginning to roll back, digging your nails into the sofa as you keep your eyes on his, he looks mad at you, slamming his palm against your ass again as he grunts, “Keep that fuckin’ arch.”

Your chest is filled with oxygen, holding your breath to cure the slight discomfort you feel, but it’s also an agonizing pleasure, feeling so full from him. He’s slowly dragging himself halfway out, rolling his hips back in and going even deeper, your mouth dropping open as your eyes flutter shut, turning your head back towards him as you whimper, “Fuck, baby. You’re deep…”

Silence goes in between the both of you, savoring the rush of pleasure that clutches the air as he drags his first couple of thrusts, so slow it felt like time wasn’t even passing. The sedated actions almost feel better than if he sped up, his eyes locking down as he sees you painting his tip, creaming on him.

“I’m in your shit, huh?” he talks to you, it’s almost tortuous as he hilts himself fully inside, his heavy balls slapping against your throbbing clit. Your walls clench around him like a vice, your head tilting back as you completely tense. You whimper, “Ungh,” attempting to push him back to relieve the stimulation, jumping as he gives you a bruising spank, deep voice aggressive as he says, “Uh-uh, don’t do that. You know I don’t do that running shit.”

His fingers dig into the flesh of your hips as he starts up at a carnal pace. The wet squelch of your pussy being split open echoes obscenely in the room, mixing with your deep whines, nodding your head, gently dropping your hips against his abdomen to meet his strokes.

“Keep riding that dick, goood fuckin’ girl,” each thrust is punishing and deep, stirring up your insides. The wet slap of skin on skin echoes obscenely as he rails into you, chasing your pleasure to insanity.

You always try to keep up, but you never could. All your organs feel tossed around by him, so blinded in your erotic state, your mouth opens as you give long moans, deeply gasping each time you need to catch your breath. He brings you to a point of saying things you’d never thought would leave your lips, mouth parted as you groan, “Yes, yes, baby. Agh, fuck, Ony. Deeper.”

"You want this dick deeper?" He growls, accentuating his question with a thrust that has your eyes rolling back farther. His grip on your hips tightens, surely leaving finger-shaped bruises on your toffee skin as he sets a merciless pace.

He’s back at palming his hand brutally against your ass, rushing it up to come around the front of your mouth, resting his fingers there as he grunts, "Take this fucking dick then," yanking your head back.

The new angle allows him to go even deeper, his hips slapping against your clit, “Finna’ tear this fuckin’ pussy open.”

His filthy words mix with the lewd sounds of your bodies coming together, filling the room, it has you groaning through his fingers.

“Love you so much, baby—“ this was a regular routine, the affection you give him as he’s hitting that spot that only he could find, whines plummeting from your mouth, eyes to the back of your head as you reach back and grab onto his wrist that holds your hip, moaning louder each time he rolls his hips back to meet the weight of your ass matching his rhythm.

“What happened to you being mad?” He questions, going slow as he tugs you back into his dick, the echo of your skin bouncing off each other like a drug induced round of applause.

You shake your head, “Not mad at you, Onyyy, love you so much….”

He chuckles darkly, low and rumbling in his chest as he leans over you, pressing his muscular torso against your back. His hot breath fans across the shell of your ear as he murmurs, "I know you do, Mama. I love you too.”

One large hand slides up from your hip, reaching around to splay across your stomach as the other now tangles in your hair, tugging your head back. He rolls his hips in a slow, deep grind, stirring you up from the inside, your mouth releasing broken shouts, your face hot, pleasured tears wanting to stroke along your face.

"Fuckin’ love you, princess. Pussy was made for me,” He gives another sharp thrust, grinding against your cervix. "You’ getting tight as fuck—You’ cumming, Mama?”

“I’m….” You gasp, defeated in your inability to speak, taking your hand and reaching back to hold his face closer to yours, hips trembling as you dangerously moan in a cracked tone “I’m cumming, baby. I’m cumming. I’m—agh, c—cumming…”

His chuckle is dark with lust as you flutter and clench around him erratically. He grips you harder, using the leverage to pound into you relentlessly, chasing his own release.

"Good job, baby. Biggg fuckin’ girl. Cum on this dick. Fuckin' soak it," he growls, his voice strained with pleasure. One hand moves from your hip to your clit, rubbing tight circles around the sensitive nub as he continues his brutal pace.

Your whole body tenses and shakes as your orgasm crashes over you, a loud cry tearing from your throat. Your pussy spasms almost violently around his thick shaft, gushing against him so much it pushes him out of you, trying to milk the sensation for all it’s worth.

“I’m finna’ bust, baby,” he warns, groaning in your ear, “Come eat this dick up.”

Your body feels numb as you turn yourself towards him, immediately wrapping your lips along his tip, enveloping the taste of your own arousal within the walls of your mouth, sucking him in to reach the heavens of your throat. He clasps your hair within his palm, bobbing yourself back and forth as you reach down, rubbing your clit as you still feel your orgasm rushing through your body. You moan around him, giving him those cat eyes, fluttering your dark extensions as you swirl your tongue against his tip, begging for a reaction.

He throws his head back with a deep, guttural moan as your warm mouth engulfs him. His grip on your hair tightens, guiding your movements as he starts to thrust shallowly into your throat.

“Shit—just like that. Eating that dick up good as fuckk," he pants, his abs flexing with each snap of his hips. The sight of you—eyes fluttering, cheeks hollowed, one hand buried between your thighs—it’s almost too much.

He pulls your mouth off him, a string of saliva connecting your lips to his glistening tip. With another smack to your ass, he flips you onto your back, settling between your spread legs.

"I wanna see your face when I nut in this pretty ass pussy."

He lines himself up and sinks back in with one smooth thrust, bottoming out instantly, clutching your throat, holding you down as your back arches up, clawing into his back at the visceral sensitivity.

He sets a hard, fast pace, the wet sounds of your joining filling the room. His intense gaze locks with yours, pupils blown wide with lust as he takes in every expression that crosses your face.

"That's it, baby. Gonna fill this pussy up real good," he grunts as you whimper with his talking, “Ba-by,” angling his hips to hit that special spot inside you. One hand slides under your thigh, pushing your leg up and back to change the angle, allowing him to go even deeper.

He leans down, capturing your lips in a searing kiss as he continues to pound into you. His tongue dominates your mouth, swallowing your moans and cries of pleasure. Breaking the kiss, he buries his face in your neck, biting and sucking dark marks into your skin as he chases his release.

"Fuckk, finna’ cum soon. You want it in you, baby?”

“On my face baby, you say it’s pretty there,” you whimper, deepening your nails in his back, “Mmmph, c’mon, Ony. Please…”

A grin spreads across his face at your pleas. Grabbing his throbbing tip, he positions himself at your face, smearing the leaking pre-cum across your cheek. He’s moaning, stroking himself rapidly, aiming his tip at your parted lips. His free hand grips your chin firmly, keeping you in place as his strokes become erratic. He then cums, painting your face—across your cheeks, over your lips, some even landing in your waiting mouth.

You stick your tongue out, running your tongue over your lips that darken in color, bruised as you dig your teeth into them with a sultry giggle. Heavy breathing fills the room as you keep your eyes up at him.

He steps back as he says, “Hollon, baby,” going into the bathroom as he finds a towel, rubbing it along your face to clean you up. He then leans down, pulling you into a kiss as he grunts, “Gimme’ your mouth. I love you, Mama. I’m sorry.”

You give him a kiss, holding his face in your hands, running your tongues together sloppily, passion filling your entire body from the previous actions.

You say, “It’s okay. You’ want your massage now?”

He pulls his mouth back a bit, eyeing you before he chuckles. It makes you pout, “What’s funny?”

He laughs, shaking his head as he helps you stand, “Nothin’ Mama. Just thinkin' 'bout how quick you forgave me after I tore your ass up."

You roll your eyes, “I can always change my mind.”

He runs a hand down your side, squeezing your hip possessively. "Chill out. I want that massage. You know I'm always ready for your magical hands."

He stretches languidly, his muscles rippling beneath his tattoos as he leads you towards the bedroom, “ And don’t be all stingy with the lotion. Do that lil’ thing I like if you feeling extra generous.”

“You’ getting beside yourself. Do you need that?”

He turns, “Do you?”

You scrunch up your nose, “No. I want a massage next!”

“Exactly. C’mon, get that ass on the bed.”

#onyankopon x black y/n #onyakapon #onyankopon x black reader smut #onyankopon fluff #onyankopon x reader #aot onyankopon #aot #aot smut #aot oneshots #onyankopon x you #onyankopon smut #onyankapon

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hoetachi · 3 months ago

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PASSENGER PRINCESS — E. KILLMONGER

➠ erik killmonger x reader

➠ mulan’s input - i miss mbj in the mcu :( tumblr was a TIME with the killmonger fics happy belated valentine’s day

➠ c/w - black-coded reader (its bhm duh), pet names [mamas & baby], just eric getting roasted for his crocs

make a hood nigga put some jibbitz in his crocs.

ERIK STOOD by the front door, slipping on his black hoodie while checking his pockets for his keys— securing he had everything he needed before his departure. he wasn’t big on valentine’s day, but he did like spoiling the people he cared about, and he figured it wouldn’t kill him to pick up something nice for shuri and his auntie.

“where you goin’?” you asked from the couch, lazily stretching after indulging in your 3rd nap of day.

“‘bout to hit the stores, get some valentine’s stuff for auntie and lil’ cuz,” he said causally, pulling his hood up. he crouched down to tighten the laces on his timbs.

immediately your eyes lit up. “ohhh, I’m coming.”

he huffed, shaking his head with a smirk. “ you aint got nothin’ better to do?” he questioned because he knew damn well his quick trip to the mall was going to be 3 hours if you came with him

“nope!” you hopped up, already heading to grab your bag and your crocs. he sighed, knowing damn well he couldn’t say no to you and even if he did, you’ll be a crybaby for the rest of the day and he rather be off track for a couple of hours than deal with damage control with your feelings. “aight, let’s go.” he bounced up, opening the front door of your apartment for you to go through first. as you past him, he couldn’t help himself smacking your butt “2 hours, y/n. nothing more than” he warned, leaving behind you.

by the time you got in the car, you had already made yourself very comfortable. wrapped up in your pink fluffy blanket like royalty, you had one leg tucked under you while you touched up your makeup in the passenger mirror. erik was always in disbelief with your audacity to take over his car, but he knew deep down inside he found it cute to make it your personal vanity.

“oh, we playing this game again,” erik muttered as he pulled out of the driveway, shaking his head as you casually took over the music like it was your birth-given right.

“of course, baby” you sweetly said, swiping some more of your clear gloss over your lips. “this is my luxury experience.”

erik glanced at you, biting back a smile. “you do know i’m the one driving, right? and it’s my car?”

“and I’m the one making sure the vibes are right. you’re welcome.” you said sassily rolling your neck. the bass from your favorite playlist kicked through the speakers, and erik just shook his head again, chuckling as he switched lanes.

a couple of hours later, he was quite surprised that the both of you were doing well for time with this mall trip, you two were just about done shopping. you had picked out an elegant, diamond-custom necklace for queen ramonda and erik bought a switch for shuri that she was guaranteed to geek out over since he knows how much she wants to start playing animal crossing with you. erik was feeling pretty good about it—until you suddenly gasped and grabbed his arm harshly.

“BABY!”

his body tensed immediately, instincts kicking in. “what?! what happened, mamas?” his eyes immediately darted around to see if he could spot any threats he didn’t pick up on before

you dramatically pointed across the walkway. “the crocs store.”

he blinked, taking in what you just said. then he squinted at you with nothing but irritation. “man, i know you not about to—”

“please,” you cut him off, clutching his arm with both hands. “as a valentine’s gift to me, can we go in there?” you whined, tugging his arm towards the store but he didn’t budge a bit

he massaged his temple, letting out the longest sigh out of the many he expelled out today. “you want me to buy you crocs?”

“no, you some crocs,” you corrected. “I got a vision. I can make you look fly.” you grinned brightly; he was really thinking to himself that you might actually be the end of him. he stared at you for a long moment. “you serious?”

“deadass.”

his jaw clenched and unclenched— he looked at the store, then back at you again. the way your eyes were sparkling up at him, lips slightly pouted in that way you knew he couldn’t resist—

“tch,” he sucked his teeth, already knowing he’d lost this battle financially. “you lucky I like you.”

“correction: you love me.” you grinned, pecking him quickly on his lips before pulling him towards the store.

inside, you were on a mission. you walked around, thoughtfully analyzing the different crocs like you were styling an a-list celebrity. erik stood with his arms crossed, clearly feeling like a hostage, but you ignored his usual grumbling.

“okay,” you announced, holding up a pair in his size. “these black ones go crazy. you can rock ‘em with anything.” you hyped.

he gave you a skeptical look. “ain’t no way i’m walking out of here with crocs.”

“trust the process, baby.” you smirked, handing them to him. then, with a mischievous glint in your eye, you grabbed a tray of jibbitz. “now, let’s customize these bad boys.”

that’s when erik’s interest really piqued. his arms uncrossed as he peered at the selection, rubbing his chin.

“baby look at the wittle ears?!” you cooed

“yo… when did we get a collab with crocs?!” he murmured, observing the black panther jibbit you held

“see? It’s meant to be!”

a few minutes later, he wore proudly the finished product—sleek all black crocs adorned with a mix of jibbitz: the black panther logo, a jordan sneaker, a tiny gold crown, and a wakandan flag.

“okay,” erik admitted, nodding. “these kinda tough.”

you gasped. “so you like them?” you awed. usually when he gave you the opportunity to dress him, he’ll find something to nitpick about and always take it off.

he clicked his tongue, trying to play it cool. “i ain’t say all that…”

but you caught the tiny smirk playing at his lips. he was proud of them.

arriving at the palace, erik helped you out the car. you held shuri’s gift he got her while he held queen ramondas as well as the secret gift you bought for t’challa when erik was using the bathroom. you noticed his silence as you two got closer to the steps

“mamas, you sure we gotta go to the palace today?” erik exasperated, dragging his feet as you two made your way up the golden-lit steps. you knew why he was having doubt all of a sudden. “you can’t avoid your cousins forever, plus we promise to be here for valentine’s day.” you rolled your eyes, adjusting the bag on your shoulder. it’s been 2 months since erik had bought an apartment for you both bear the palace— you had no issue sharing the same bed with your beloved and getting into your morning side quests, but you knew how much shuri and the queen missed his present.

“i’m not avoiding shuri, actually. me and lil’ cuz got a great relationship. same with auntie.” he shrugged. he looked to shuri as a little sister despite what happened a couple years back; she really helped him understand the culture here in wakanda and was quite forgiving, same with queen ramonda

“you’re leaving out one person,” you sing-songed, casting him a knowing look.

there was a pause.

“you’re not over t’challa stabbin’ you—” you started.

erik scoffed at how plainly you were putting it. “it wasn’t just a stab, it was a betrayal.”

“you tried to overthrow the throne, erik.” you deadpanned at his antics

“details.”

you shook your head, sighing dramatically. “so what? you gonna mean-mug him all day?” you quipped

“I always mean-mug him. it’s nothin’ new.”

before you could argue back, the palace doors opened, and shuri practically launched herself at both you and erik. “cousins!” she grinned, throwing her arms around you both. for how petite she was, she had an iron grip on you both causing a chuckle to leave your slightly closing throat

erik, despite all his brooding, melted just a little. “wassup, lil’ cuz?”

she pulled back, smirking. “i thought you were too busy being a menace for y/n to visit.”

you snorted. “that’s what I said!”

“I do visit and i don’t be a menace towards my future wife!” erik defended.

shuri crossed her arms. “facetiming me to talk shit about t’challa does not count.”

as if on cue, t’challa himself appeared, regal as ever, a small smirk on his face as he approached. “dearest y/n, it’s always a pleasure to see you” he greeted, giving you an warm embrace knowing the man beside y’all was glaring daggers into his skull. he stepped back beside shuri and turned towards erik

“t’challa.” erik said curtly

you swore you could feel the tension thickening between them.

“welcome home, cousin,” t’challa added smoothly.

erik narrowed his eyes. “I live here.”

“ah, but you never visit the palace ever since you got y/n that adorable apartment of the east of wakanda.” t’challa tilted his head, his smirk widening.

you subtly elbowed erik before he could say something smart. he inhaled sharply, visibly restraining himself, then exhaled through his nose. “i’m here now, ain’t i?” he forced a smile, which looked like stuff from nightmares

t’challa placed a hand on his chest. “my heart is full.”

you choked back a laugh as erik glared.

before things could escalate, queen ramonda stepped into the room, a warm smile on her face. “ahh, my sons and my daughters,” she greeted, placing a hand on erik’s shoulder. “It’s good to see you both” she kissed both you and erik’s cheeks

erik’s demeanor softened immediately. “good to see you too, auntie.”

shuri clapped her hands. “since erik and y/n are finally here, let’s eat! I want to hear all about what foolishness he’s been up to, y/n”

“foolishness?” erik echoed.

shuri smirked. “you are foolish.”

t’challa hummed in agreement. “very.”

erik looked at you. “you just gonna let them gang up on me?”wondering where was the mama bear y/n who don’t play about her man. you shrugged, linking your arm through his. “see, my days are cold without you..” you sung ‘foolish’ by ashanti, causing him to kiss his teeth, “imma leave yo’ ass here” he threatened making you laugh at your grumpy man

erik groaned as you all made your way to dinner, his family—his people—surrounding him with laughter and light teasing.

the dining hall was alive with warmth and chatter, but erik was already over this family dinner. not even five minutes in, and he was already being attacked.

t’challa, ever observant, casually glanced under the table mid-conversation. His sharp eyes zeroed in on erik’s feet. silence followed.

then—

“are you… wearing crocs?” t’challa asked, his tone mixed with disgust and disbelief.

shuri, curious, immediately leaned over the table. the moment she saw them, she howled with laughter. “noooo, cousin! and—oh my bast, are those jibbitz?!”

you bit your lip, knowing exactly where this was going.

erik, completely unfazed, stuck his leg out like he was showing off the latest in designer fashion. “hell yeah, they got jibbitz. look at that—got the black panther logo right there, for the culture.” He pointed proudly at the charm. “and my baby got me the little jordan one. peep the detail.”

all eyes turned to you.

you just sipped your drink innocently. “what? I thought they were cute.”

t’challa blinked towards your direction now. “you’re enabling him.”

shuri nearly fell out of her seat. “not the jordan jibbitz! erik, you are finished!”

erik smirked, wiggling his toes. “y’all just mad ‘cause I got flavor.” he popped his imaginary collar and you jumped in, brushing dust off his shoulders with a stifled laugh.

t’challa stared at him like he wanted to call for security. “you are in the wakandan royal palace, dressed like an american tourist at disney world.”

“first off, crocs are universal,” erik stated, ready to defend his case to the grave. “second, i gotta stay comfortable in case i gotta throw hands at you.”

t’challa took a sip of wine, unimpressed. “you would throw hands in those?”

“absolutely.”

shuri wiped a tear from her eye. “i need a picture of this.” already working her hand over her kimoyo bead, which you had to hold erik back. “you send that to anybody, and I swear—” erik started.

“what? gonna run after me in your crocs?” she cackled. “i’ll hear you squeakin’ a mile away!” at this point, you had fully given up on trying to hold in your laughter. you reached for your drink, shaking your head. “baby, you do realize you’re only proving them right by getting worked up, right?”

erik scowled, leaning away from you slightly. “you supposed to be on my side.”

“i am.” you patted his thigh reassuring him. “but also… the jordan jibbitz is sending me.”

t’challa sighed dramatically, like the weight of being the responsible one in the room was too much to bear. “and to think, i once considered you a threat to the throne.”

erik pointed his fork, mashed potatoes dripping bit by bit on to his plate. “don’t get it twisted, I can still run this country better if I wanted to.”

“in crocs?”

“i swear to bast—”

“alright, enough,” ramonda interrupted with the practiced patience of a mother who had been listening to nonsense for far too long. “we are all gathered here for a peaceful family dinner.” she gave t’challa a pointed look.

the king, as ever, composed himself. “of course, mother.” shuri on the other end? not so much. she was still giggling.

you knew this was probably you’re last time for the next couple of months that you would accompany erik on a mall trip again. but, oh bast, was it worth it in the end

#omg i miss the bp era soooooo much #this was too funny of an idea to not post 💀#erik killmonger x black reader #killmonger x reader #erik killmonger #marvel erik killmonger #black reader #x black reader #marvel #black panther fic

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mirathescientist · 1 year ago

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pairings: Onyankopon x black reader

warnings: Jean slander, smut 18+

Need you

“And then the bitch scoffed and rolled her eyes like I didn't just apologize. I need to find a new place asap cause I swear next time she try me Imma fuck her up- “

“What I tell you bout cussing?” Ony’s deep voice filled the room, dark eyes piercing into yours as a warning.

“Anywaysss” You rolled your eyes, ignoring the side eye he was giving. “You’ve been awfully quiet since I came over. What’s going on?” You put your freshly manicured feet in his face.

“Nothing you’ve just been yapping the whole time.” He smirked.

“Rude” You gasped, nudging him with your toes.

“Nah I'm just chillin’. You know I like listening to you talk.” He shrugged, placing your legs into his lap. Lighting the blunt he just rolled, a cloud of smoke surrounding him as he took a hit.

“Whatever” You smiled as he passed it to you.

You and Ony often had moments like these, a smoke sesh usually spent with you talking about your week as he massaged your feet. Your relationship with Ony was…complicated. Ever since Sasha introduced you two, y'all were inseparable, constantly getting mistaken for a couple, and who could blame them?

Most thought this because Ony always had to be touching you, whether it was holding your hand, an arm around your shoulder, or a tight grip on your waist. However, for some, it was how you two would always disappear during the function. Claiming you were only talking, but the slight sheen on Ony’s lips and your slightly ruffled clothing told otherwise.

You weren’t quite friends with benefits. At least that's what you told yourselves. The whole ordeal just kinda happened. You were stressed over your midterms and Ony of course offered to help you study. Though after hours of reading flashcards and practice tests, you were still stressed and on the verge of tears when Ony offered another way to help you. That night you ended up with your legs in the air as Ony sucked the soul out of your pussy. Ever since then any inconvenience one had, the other would do their best to help relieve the stress. Your roommate upset you? Ony fed you long deep strokes, pampering you with soft kisses while he whispered in your ear. Ony was pissed that his supplier flaked on him? Ony would have the tightest grip on your hips as he drilled into you from behind, claiming the waves of your ass hypnotized him into forgetting what he was upset about. Some days neither of you needed an excuse. Some days you just craved each other.

Despite your unique relationship, you remained friends allowing the other to do what they pleased, though neither you nor Ony slept with or saw other people. Your dynamic was good and worked for both of you. That was until you started seeing Jean.

“You n that nigga Jean still fuckin around?” He broke the silence, waiting for your answer as your eyes met his.

“Ony” You groaned, the tight grip he had on your ankles preventing you from moving.

“What? I can’t ask you questions now?” He kissed his teeth, putting out the blunt.

“No, because any time you ask about Jean we end up getting into an argument and I’m really enjoying my time with you right now. So no, you cannot ask.”

“Whatever. I’m just tryna figure out when you gon stop playing in my face nd be with me instead of his bitchass.”

“Onyankopon '' You shrieked. You never understood why Ony hated Jean till a few weeks ago when Ony drunkenly confessed his feelings. At first, you thought he was joking but the look on his face told you otherwise. For a minute, you were happy. Ony was everything you had wanted in a boyfriend and you two had practically been in a relationship just without the labels. It wasn't till Jean texted you that you got upset. Why confess his feelings when you're finally in a relationship? Deciding it'd be best to forget about it, you put Ony to bed, hoping he'd also forget about his confession. Clearly, you were wrong.

“What? I don't understand what you see in him. He's annoying as fuck, and I'm pretty sure he has 4 brain cells. Maximum.” He rolled his eyes at the thought of Jean. “Why won't you give me a chance when I'm the one for you?”

“We've talked about this Ony.” You sighed. Conversations like these were becoming frequent and they were so tiring.

“No mama you've talked nd I've listened.” You thought about it, he wasn’t exactly wrong. Silently praying this wouldn't end up in an argument you gave him a chance.

“Okay. I'm listening.” You whispered.

“C’mere,” He released your ankles.

“Ony I’m not gonna-”

“[☆]” The dominance in his tone had you clenching around nothing.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you did as he told. The moment you sat on his lap you just knew how it was going to end.

“Why you with him instead of me? And don't feed me no bullshit” His large hands were rubbing up and down your thighs getting dangerously close to your pussy that desperately ached for him.

You tried and you tried but there wasn't any good reason as to why you were Jean. Sure he was cute but he had no idea how to make you feel special and overall just couldn't please you. In multiple ways. The main reason though was that he wasn’t Ony. He just asked first.

“I don't know, Ony” You finally sighed, looking everywhere but him.

Any discipline you had when it came to Ony vanished when his hand wrapped around your throat, the slight pressure on your carotid causing your brain to go fuzzy and your panties to get damp “Look at me”

“Be real. Please” Ony released his hold on your neck to grip your thighs.

“You had the longest opportunity to ask me to be with you but you never took the chance, yet when I'm finally in a relationship you suddenly wanna give up everything and take a chance to be with me and I feel like that’s not fair to me Ony.”

He rubbed his hands down his face with a sigh. “You're right.”

"I did have that opportunity and always hesitated. I always assumed it would be just you and me, that you wouldn't pursue other relationships because of our bond. Since the day we met, I've wanted you. I know this is unfair and I'm so sorry princess, but I can't ignore my feelings any longer. Jean can't possibly be the man you want, the man you deserve. But I can. I promise to take the chance if you just give me another opportunity, and I'll do everything in my power to make you proud. You’re my best friend, my favorite person in the whole universe and I'm determined to be the person you need. I love you [☆].”

“Ony” you huffed, feeling as if all air was being vacuumed out of your lungs at his confession.

“Please. Lemme show you how much I love you.” He whispered, closing the distance that separated you. “Please” He captured your lips, his usual sweet taste with a hint of spiciness from the weed clouding your thoughts. Oh, how you missed this. Missed him. The kiss was intimate and familiar, the passion growing with each second. Ony’s hands roamed your body, gripping the soft flesh of your thighs before traveling to your ass, taking pleasure in the soft moan you let out, and using the opportunity to slip his tongue past your lips. On instinct, your hips rocked down onto him.

“Fuck, baby. I missed you” He groaned, flipping you onto your back.

“Ony we can’t” You huffed, despite the wetness growing in between your thighs. God he looked so good. His muscles bulged as he took his shirt off, your eyes trailed down his torso, mouth watering at the prominent v-line peeking from his low sitting sweats.

“Do you want this? Yes, or no?” His tongue traced lazy patterns on your skin as he littered your neck with kisses.

“Ony I-”

“Yes or no [☆]?” He nipped on your earlobe, hand dipping below the waistband of your leggings.

“Fuck, Ony” his hand slipped beneath the thin fabric of your thong, fingers slipping through your folds. Gathering your arousal before circling your clit in tight circles. “Yes, please”

“Then shut up and lemme show you how much I love you” He murmured as he undressed you. Replacing his fingers with his tongue, he lapped at your folds like a starved man, his tongue repeatedly flicking your clit. “Missed you so fucking much. Don't ever give my pussy away again. You hear me?” He muttered, sliding two digits past your entrance. The action was easy with how wet you were.

“Ony” Your thighs threatened to close around his head.

“Answer me or I'm stopping” He slowed his movements, leaving you needy.

“It's yours. I'm yours pa, I promise” Your legs shook as he continued to give you slow strokes, the addition of another finger having you seeing stars. “O-Ony wait” You panted, attempting to push his head away but he refused to let up on your pussy, never wanting to stop till he and his couch were soaked in your essence as he lapped at your clit.

“Ony I’m so-fuck I'm so close” Your words encouraged him to speed up as he repeatedly hit the spongy spot of your walls. “Ony” Your walls clenched around his fingers, leaving little room for his fingers to continue as you reached your peak.

Despite your thighs tightening around his head he continued his assault on your pussy. It wasn't until he was finally satisfied with slurping up your arousal, that he pulled away pressing gentle kisses on your throbbing clit as he pulled his soaked fingers out of your walls.

“Missed you so much” He mumbled, giving you the nastiest kiss ever, your arousal all over his lower face.

“I missed you too”

“Yeah?” He grabbed your hips, positioning you on all fours.

“Ony” You whined, pout forming on your lips as you looked back. His dick standing tall now that it was no longer confined. God, please let me have feeling in my legs tomorrow.

“I know you ain't think I was done. You played in my face and let another nigga hit and think I'm not finna put you back in your place? Nah, both you and this pussy need a reminder of who you belong to” He slid his dick through your folds, your cream acting as lube.

“Matter a fact” He lined up at your entrance just as your phone started ringing ‘Jean baby’ flashing on the bright screen.

“Lemme show this nigga too.”

first time ever writing smut nd even though it was short it took me foreverrr but i think it turned out okay. also so sorry for all my Jean girlies out there lol. anyways i hope you enjoyed nd any feedback is greatly appreciated. mwah

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laneywrld · 1 year ago

Text

Oh Baby | Lewis Hamilton mini series

part one.

word count: 7.7k

Warnings: smut, absolute filth. breeding kink

Lewis can't help but want to give his best friend everything she desires. she can have whatever she wants.

You were Lewis' best friend; the world knew it. The world also saw that he admired you in a way he hadn't anyone else.

You'd been in Lewis' life since the two of you were literal babies. Your dad was best friends with Anthony, Lewis' father, so in a way, you two were destined to be the best of mates.

Sometimes, Lewis wishes he had the chance to meet you organically, but as quickly as that thought flickers through his mind, it is pushed away just as fast.

He would've been alone as a kid if you had come later in his life. But still, meeting you later would've changed the trajectory of your guy's relationship. He wouldn't be stuck in the constant lock of just being your "best friend."

He would continue to stick out his role and push through his torture if it meant you keeping him around.

Since you were kids, you two have been joined at the hip. You were always there to defend him at school when the bullies got to him. You were always down to follow his dreams with him, even if it meant convincing your dad to let you ride with his family to watch him go-karting in the sweltering heat. You were always there.

You still are, and maybe that's what's got his heart thrumming in his chest as he watches you dance with his brother Nicholas. The two of your hands are entwined as you sway to the music blasting from the speakers.

As Nicholas twirls you around, your eyes meet Lewis for a brief second, and you smile at him before you are faced with his brother again. You joke with Nicholas as the two of you dance, your head constantly turning to check on Lewis.

He loves how his family is your own and vice versa. He loves how you treat his brother with the same tender love and care that he does. He can't help but to admire everything you do, even if it's just including his brother in something as simple as dancing.

You give him a curious look as you sway with Nicholas. He only grins in return, raising his glass at you. He sees your eyes fleet over his shoulder, and then your mouth pierces together in a knowing smile. You tilt your head to motion behind him, and when he turns to follow your orders, he sees Laura approaching.

When he turns back to you, you are no longer dancing wildly with his brother but sitting comfortably with your friends, accepting the shot Miles pours for you.

Lewis shakes his head, turning to greet Laura. He shouldn't feel disappointed and he shouldn't feel an emptiness wallow in his gut at the mere fact that he can't watch you sway in the night. His girlfriend, (if you could even call her that), was approaching and he should be glad to see her, but he can't help but to relish in the fact that'd he'd rather observe you from a distance than be in her presence.

"Hey baby!" she cheers. " I'm sorry I'm late. I got hung up at the agency."

"S'fine." He smiles, embracing the hug. "Let's grab you a drink and then settle in with everyone."

Meanwhile you are trying your best to tame your friends and their instantly sour moods. "C'mon y'all. Be nice to the girl."

"Nice?" Whitney scoffs. "I don't like that lil' girl."

"Whit." You scold, "She's not for us to like; as long as Lew likes her, we support them, yeah?"

"Whatever," Miles piques up, "She not good enough for my guy?"

Always the wiser one, you shoot miles with a frown that shows your agreeance: "We can think that, but who are we to decide for him? Lew's not an idiot. When the time comes to make the right call, he'll make it, yeah?"

"Yeah." Daniel says, "But the only right call would be you."

You smack your teeth, reaching for another shot. "Here this nigga go on his shit again."

The table erupts in laughter just as Lewis approaches with Laura.

"Guys, you all remember Laura?"

"Do we?" Whit scoffs under her breath, downing a shot. The group breaks into fits of sniggering. You eye them with a look that screams, Act right! before turning to face Lewis and Laura in your seat.

"Laura, hi! girl!" You dragged.

Once again, you shoot your eyes across the group; one by one, they all push out fake ass hellos or a mumbled What's up.

Lew watches on as you turn to him, smiling. He can't help it as his own grows wider.

After the phony greeting, Lewis drags Laura to sit with him. The only open spot is the two-seater across from you.

Conversation is ablaze in the midst of the circle. You lean forward chatting with Laura for a while since no one else bothered. Lewis has his arm thrown over her shoulder but he is watching you. Like always.

"Oh, so you planned this gathering?" Laura questions.

"Isn't it obvious?" You joke. "Lew could never." You motion to the lights and grand decor located around the yard.

"Oh, please." Lewis smacks his teeth.

"Admit it, Lew. It's my thing. Tell me I did good."

"You did great." He smirks, leaning back, his legs spread in a way that has you ready to drool.

You divert your eyes, sitting back in your own seat.

"Y/N's so domestic, it's giving wife."

You squint your eyes at Whit, giving her the ultimate stink face.

"You're always going to be the stepmum to us Laura. We can't separate mum and dad." Mori speaks up.

There was an ongoing joke in your friend group that had been circling for years. You and Lewis were Mum and Dad, you two paired together so well that it was like watching the perfect marriage. Your friends referred to you as each others "hubby" and "wifey".

Still, your friends were beginning to get out of pocket, and you turned to Lewis expecting him to put an end to their shenanigans like any good dad would. He only smiles at you his eyebrows wiggling in a playful manner.

You feel your cheeks burn as he doesn't deny it.

"She is quite domestic, would make the perfect wife." Miles piques up from beside Lewis.

It's a scheme that you two were left out of, a plan made to force you two to realize your feelings for each other.

His words trinkle into Lewis' mind. He's always thought you'd make the perfect wife. He's thought about marrying you seriously plenty of times. It's also been a childhood dream of his to make it official, especially after having your own wedding ceremony at the playground under the monkey bars, commemorated by strawberry ring-pops and sand confetti that had both of your parents grumbling as they scrubbed your scalps clean that night.

He's only ever told Miles this, but he wishes he never got seriously involved that first time at all. He thinks he did it out of pure irrationality. You had your first serious boyfriend, and Lewis thought well shit. To him it seemed as though you'd never be that into him. So he spent seven years on and off with a woman he was unsure about when all he really wanted was you. He's wasted so much time.

He thinks back to the times where distance sprouted between you two. Nicole didn't like how close the two of you were, and you respected it even if he didn't want you to. He feels a bit like a dickhead thinking of all the times he lied to his ex telling her you were nothing more than a friend to him. It was obviously a lie. If it wasn't a lie he wouldn't have spent majority of his relationship trying to make you realize what it was you were missing. Hint: it obviously didn't work, or you'd be the girl under his arm right now.

"I'll be back in a few," you announce, standing from your seat. I'm going to go do my rounds. Give Lew a break." Lewis' stare was beginning to get intense, you could feel your little resolve crumbling the longer her stared into your soul.

He watches you stroll over to his dad and your dad, stepping in between them and wrapping your arms around their waist. He can't read your lips but can tell that whatever you said had the two doubled over in laughter. You pat their backs, trekking over to your next target.

You're a little ways away, refilling wine glasses at the "mum table." His mum has you saying something that leads to you smooching the top of her head as you pass by. You set the bottle on the table before suspiciously eyeing your mother and opting to pull it to the other end. Lewis lets out a chuckle, watching your antics.

It'd been awkward silence covering the group like a blanket since you'd left. Everyone watching Lewis, watch you.

You had convinced Lew to buy this house, practically begged him all of those years ago. "Lew, the backyard," you had marveled, hands outstretched at your sides. "Imagine hosting out here." You had gone on a rant, dragging him across each area of the yard and throwing out ideas for gatherings that didn't even exist.

He closed the deal that same day. He was glad he listened to you as he watched you light some sparklers for the group of kids. He watches you crouch down to his nephew's level, pressing him against your front as you direct the sparkler into his hand.

He couldn't see your face but could tell you were muttering words of encouragement into his ear.

You stand with a proud grin when he twirls the stick around confidently.

You turn as a small child tugs on your dress, "I'm thirsty, Auntie y/n/n."

You coo, picking up your friend's child. "Hi, mama! let's fix that for you." You pop her onto your hip, waltzing into the house from the open patio doors. She runs out moments later, a juice box snug in her hands. You follow after, arms full of the very same juice.

You crouch down as the children huddle around you. You poke each straw through the hole before passing them out one by one.

"Look at Mama Bear." Whit laughs as her eyes follow Lewis' line of sight. He is watching you with a smile and that classic sparkle in his eye that he always seems to have when it comes to you.

"She'd make a great mum, huh?" Lewis rasps out.

You're back at the fire pit before you know it.

"Yeah, Mori, you should totally let me kidnap your child next weekend."

"Have her girl, she's all yours." She scoffs, "badass little girl."

The group laughs, but Lewis can't help but notice the gloom flash over your face before it quickly washes away.

He knows about your desire to have a family. He remembers how you opened up to him about it after your last relationship ended, and you took it worse than you ever had before.

He remembers that day like it was yesterday.

You were a drunken, blubbering mess, sitting on his couch with puffy eyes and a blotchy face. "Ugh!" you groaned, reaching for the bottle to pour yourself another glass. He beats you to it, pulling it away and setting it down on the table at the end of the couch.

"Hey," he coos, his hand pulling you into his side as your lip wobbles. You can't help the outburst of tears for what feels like the 100th time.

"Let's talk about it, yeah? That might help a bit."

You had been friends for so long, and not once had he seen you this distraught. In fact, you were the one comforting him most of the time.

"I hate him," you whined, reaching up to cover your face. He got me over here looking stupid."

"Hey," he pulls your hand down, still holding you against him, just holding your hand down at your side as well. "Don't be embarrassed for feeling, ain't that what you tell me?"

"Yeah," you shudder.

"Now, talk to me."

"I wanted kids. I don't think i'm that hurt about him you know?" you don't give him time to answer, "I just feel like I'm not meant to be with someone, like love is not for me. Sometimes it seems like everyone has a person out there for them but me. I want a family of my own. I love my family and yours, but it's different." you cry harder then.

"I want a human to love unconditionally, I want babies, and I want to be a mom; I would make a great mumma."

"You would." He hums, his free hand coming up to wipe your face. You pull away turning to face him, your legs are crossed in front of you and he reaches forward grasping both of your hands in his.

He has one leg propped under the other, and his body is turned to face you. The way he's looking at you makes you want to break down into another fit of tears. No one pays attention to you as much as Lewis.

"Is there something wrong with me?" You ask, and you sound so broken that Lewis is fighting off tears of his own.

"You're perfect." He assures, and his hold on your hands grows tighter. "There's someone out there who loves you whole. Through and through, you hear me? There's nothing wrong with you, just the wrong people you've come across. You're going to get all that you want one day. He was an idiot anyway. What happened anyway, huh? What made him-."

"I left him." you interrupted, "which is crazy that i'm crying over him this bad but I could feel a disconnect between us, we were too different, didn't have the same end goal."

"You know what's beautiful about this?"

You look up to him with a baffled expression to say what the actual fuck is beautiful about being an emotional mess. He chuckles, swiping one hand against your wet cheek, where he settles his palm to cup your face.

"One day, when you get what you desire, you're going to appreciate it a whole lot more because of how much you had to go through to get it."

And if Lewis wasn't a scary idiot, he swore he'd given you a kid right there and then, hell, however many you wanted. He's always had a soft spot for you, giving you anything you could have remotely even thought about wanting. You mention wanting to visit Brazil, bam, you're on his private jet whisked away, you want a yard to throw family gatherings, the deed is signed. You complain about wanting specific cupcakes from your favorite bakery, he was out of town but it was nothing to have his assistant travel across town to place them at your door. The point is, he'd give you anything in a second. He's good for it and he'd give you his baby if you really truly wanted.

You look up to Lewis the same memory flowing through both of your minds, he shoots you a tiny smile, raising his glass in your direction. You return his expression sipping from your freshly filled wine glass.

Your smile blows him away; he can never control the way his heart lurches; you'd think after years and years, your charm would lose its effect on him, but somehow, they grow stronger and stronger as each day passes by.

He doesn't know how long his group of friends sit around the fire pit laughing and chattering along (you including Laura every chance you get, seeing as your other friends seem to have forgotten she exists.) Before he knows it his father is approaching. "Son, there's a million sleeping kids all over your house, I think that's our queue to pack it up."

At that announcement you guys' friends begin to pack themselves up. Lewis says his goodbyes. The group sniggers as Anthony shoots a "Nice meeting you Lauren."

"He called me Lauren," she pouts, "and I've met him before."

"Don't pay it any mind," you speak up balancing an armful of empty glasses, "he's got a bad memory."

You scold your friends, shooing them off as Lewis apologizes to Lauren, Laura.

After a while the house is empty and you say the goodbyes in place of Lewis. As you load the dishwasher you see them bicker back and forth through the large window.

You close the door, pressing start, deciding to stop evading their private conversation. You connect to Lewis' speaker, soft melodies bleeding through the house as you go room to room, collecting any foreign object that doesn't belong. You sit with Roscoe for a while after refilling his bowl, giving him kisses and rubs until his body vibrates with snores and then you are up and at it again finding anything to tidy.

You sing quietly to yourself you huff wiping the imaginary dust onto your dress. Just as you're going to sneak from the home, Lewis' voice halts you in your tracks.

"You're leaving?" His eyes are furrowed, and his face is scrunched up.

"I- uh yeah, I didn't know how long the two of you were going to be."

"You're not staying the night?"

Your eyes flicker between Lewis and Laura, "Um, no." you chuckle hoping he'd catch the hint.

As much as you loved Lewis and spending time with him, that love didn't cover listening to him fuck the brains out of his current fling.

"She's not staying," Lewis speaks up.

You are still frozen by the door, your hand holding onto the handle. You peek at Laura, her face covered in disdain.

Your mouth drops open and then closed, trying to figure out the words to articulate your desire to leave in order to avoid whatever weird tension is brewing.

"Bye, Lewis." Laura bites, her long legs striding past you quickly. You move to the side, and she slips through the door without saying so much as a word to you.

"Ooh," you whistle, watching as the door frame rattles from the intensity of the close.

"What's her problem?"

"Your friends are bitches Lew." He mocks in a whiny voice.

You laugh, clutching your chest, "They're a bit rude."

"Yeah," he sighs.

"For good cause," you continue.

"Yeah."

"I mean, I don't like the girl either, but as long as you don't mind what she did then-."

"You staying." Lewis interrupts. He really didn't feel like talking about Laura, especially since he was alone in your presence for the first time today; it was all he wanted for his birthday.

It'd been three weeks since he last saw you, and while the two of you talked on the phone and texted every single day, it'd never compare to actually being in your space.

You groan as he puckers out his bottom lip, giving you his signature puppy dog eyes that always seem to convince you to do whatever he's asking for.

"Only because it's your birthday, and these heels hurt my feet so much, I don't really think I can drive."

"Oh please," Lewis laughs, "don't act like you don't wanna spend time with me. Excuses, excuses, excuses."

You waddle over to him, grasping onto his waiting arm as you bend at your knees to free your aching feet from said heels.

He takes the shoes from your hand, leading you up the stairs.

As the two of you approach his bedroom, you feel your excitement boil over.

When he opens the door, you speak up, "I figured what'd be a good gift for someone who literally has enough money to buy whatever he wanted. Then I remembered how much you miss home while you're away and came to the conclusion that money could never bring that kind of comfort."

Lewis sniffles as he looks at the array of gifts spread over his bed.

There is a stuffed Roscoe and Coco, a scrapbook that you'd dug into the archives to fill, letters from his family, your family, your friends, and an array of letters from you. Flowers, because to you, he deserved his more than anyone walking. You'd recreated his favorite ever birthday gift to him, a knit cheetah that you had your grandma help crochet with you for weeks before his seventh birthday. It's safe to say the OG had gone through a lot over the years. And finally, his first helmet from his carting career. He remembers his parents not being able to afford his helmet after buying him a game console for his birthday.

He remembers how upset he was but understanding of his parent's situation. He also remembers you leaving his party that night, face set in as much determination as it could be for a kid. The next day, you popped up with your dad shoving a brand new helmet adorned in a purple sticky bow into his arms. It'd been so many years since he'd last seen the helmet; as a teen, he'd gotten rid of so many things he considered to be junk, the helmet being one. But the older he got, the more he realized just how sentimental stuff like that was.

"You don't understand how hard I had to search through my Granny's attic for that. She always figured you'd want that back one day, pulled it right out of your yard sale that day."

Off to the side were stacked shoe boxes, a box from his jeweler, and a few designer bags.

He throws his arms over your shoulders, pulling you into his chest; he nestles his head atop of yours before he cranes to press multiple kisses to your hairline. "You're my favorite person in the whole world, know that, right?" He rasps.

"You wrap your arms around his waist pulling him in closer. "I love you Lew, happy birthday. You deserve it all."

You don't know how long the two of you stand their wrapped in each other's embrace before you part.

"You can shower in here; I'll hop in the guest."

"Unzip me?"

You turn giving him your back to face, you feel his hand reach up to gently swipe your hair over your shoulder, you shiver as his finger tips glide against the skin of your neck.

"I'm gonna unclip your necklace first," he announces, and his voice is raspier than usual. He gulps as he pinches at the golden clasp, reaching one hand around your front to catch the dainty piece of jewelry.

He places it into you waiting palm, and feels his hands get clammy as he holds onto your hip for leverage. Holding you into place as his other hand glides the zipper down your back. His mouth waters and his heart hammers at the sight of your glowy skin being reveled to him.

You hold the dress up at the front, staring at him from the mirror in the corner of his room. His eyes meet yours in the mirror and there is such a charged tension lingering between the two of you. There are no words spoken as the two of you revel in each others presence. Both of his hands are now on your hips as you fell yourself subtly lean back into him. His chains cool your back as you sink into him.

You smile at him through the mirror, "I really did miss you, but I have to shower. I'm sweaty, and I've been chasing kids around all day."

He chuckles, nudging you away but not before leaning over your shoulder, craning his neck in order to place a lingering kiss on your cheek that is almost too close to the corner of your mouth.

"Go shower, stinky."

You roll your eyes, treading into the bathroom and closing the door. You let out a sigh you didn't know you were holding.

Fuck, it was so challenging yet so exhilarating being in Lew's presence when all you want to do is strip him bare and have your way with him.

You put those thoughts aside and turned on the shower.

When you're clean and dry, you exit the bathroom in your robe (Lewis always keeps an extra for you), where you see Lewis sprawled across the bed, clad only in a pair of boxers. He watches you as you stride past, his head lies against the bed turning to follow your movements. He watches you disappear into his closet and exit, covered in his Mercedes t-shirt that falls down your thighs.

He lulls away the inappropriate images flowing through his mind and instead focuses on the fact that you're wearing his shirt to bed rather than any selection of your clothing piled in his dressers or hanging in your section of his closet.

He makes no attempt to move as you crawl up the bed towards him.

The scene is an absolute vision; he feels blood rush to his member, and he has to use all of his willpower not to let out the lewd groan he's containing.

You only smile at him, and you look so fucking beautiful and innocent he swears if you stare at him for any longer, he'd say fuck it all and pull you down underneath him.

He starts a mental countdown, but before he reaches one, you are flipping onto your back, his arm serving as a pillow as you fit comfortably against his side.

You turn your head to the right, seeing the bottle of liquor in his hand.

"Give me that." He passes it over, his lips turned up in a smirk.

You lift your head, taking a good bit down your throat before passing it back; he does the same.

"I've got to post you for your birthday!" You gasp excitedly. You two joke around as you upload to your pages.

y/u/n

liked by haileybeiber, landonorris and 1,472,872 others

y/u/n my favorite holiday, happy birthday lewlew, i love you to the moon and back, although you love to move through life fast I am always happy to spend slow days like this together with you cheetah, thank you for the lifelong memories and for sticking by me, i love you like no other <3

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whitwhit mum and dad ❤️ happy birthday pops

fencer Petition to make today a national holiday.

lewishamiton I love you more than life bunny, Thank you for today it was everything I needed.

lewishamilton

liked by mercedesamg, charles_leclerc and 3,563,986 others

lewishamilton Another one 🎂 Always a blast spending time with the people I love. Blessed to see another year surrounded by those I love. Special shoutout to bunny for the impromptu birthday celebration, every year that passes I am reminded of how we've gone through life together, always. Can't wait to spend many more years surrounded by love and happiness, thank you for the birthday wishes.

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user the way his post is full of him and y/n as kids. they really grew with each other 🥹

y/u/n cakes and candles my guy i luv uuuu

morismith +1 dad 🥳 child of a happy and healthy marriage

You two laugh as you scroll through your friends' comments. Somewhere along the line of you two passing the bottle back and forth, you began your own game of twenty-one questions, extra juicy, seeing as you two already knew damn near everything about the other.

"Hmmm!" you light up, "take a shot, or tell me why Nicki called you a weird little guy."

Lewis smacks his teeth but breaks into a fit of laughter as you turn over, propping your chin up against his arm. Your feet kick back and forth as you stare into him.

"You're messy." He declares, downing another shot.

You groan, reaching over his bare body to take the bottle. "And you're no fun."

"What's one thing you've never told anyone, including me? I mean deepest, darkest secret."

You hum again, allowing Lewis to reposition the two of you. Now he is rested against the headboard, and your head rests on his lap. You let out a gentle moan when his fingers begin to rub against your scalp—his member twitches in his boxers.

"Answer the question." He demands his hands, pushing your head forward slightly to avoid the feel of his growing penis.

Your eyes bore into his, and he could see you fighting to decide whether to tell him or not. He almost tells you to take your shot until the words tumble from your plush lips.

"I used to have the biggest crush on you for the longest time, like probably was in love with you." You admit. Your eyes never leave his and it has his heart beating rapidly in his chest. He feels many questions running through his mind and they want to tumble out like an avalanche but like the relaxed person he is, he plays it cool.

"yeah, and what happened to these feelings, bunny?"

You smile at the nickname, rolling your eyes as you scoff. Lewis always picked at your cute persona as a kid, calling you as sweet and timid as a bunny, the bunny teeth also didn't help.

"You almost got married," you answered. "Realized that a childhood crush was just that, I let it simmer for so long that I made it seem realistic. When you started considering taking things further, I think I closed that book, locked that door, and threw away the key. It was easy when you left her and started running rabid like a fucking dog." you snort.

He laughs with you, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. "You calling me a slut?"

"If the condom fits." You tease.

He rolls his eyes, but deep down inside, he is in shambles over the chance with you that he's missed. And he's regretting every decision that led up to you losing those feelings for him. "Next question."

You're staring deep into his soul with those sparkly eyes again and he can't help but return the same lovey eyes back. He always feels like this with you, wholly enamored and floored by anything that you do.

You look so sweet and perfect that he doesn't expect the question that falls from your lovely mouth. "What's your favorite kink, like what's something that you do during sex that has you absolutely ready to go berserk?"

"You got a dirty mind, bunny." He teases, two fingers tapping against your temple.

"I've got a breeding kink, I think." He doesn't go into full detail, describing how he discovered it years ago when out shopping with you, and you passed through the baby aisle to shop for his newborn niece at the time. He doesn't describe how his pants tightened at the sight of you holding up cute little onesies or how his mind wandered to you laying spread out in his bed, being pumped full of his cum and loving it, begging for it. He doesn't tell you how he came the hardest he'd ever come in his life that night in his shower, imagining you plump with his child and a bright smile on your lips.

"Elaborate." There is a glint in your eyes as you observe him that urges him to finish his thoughts.

"It's something about loving someone so much that you want to fill them up with another part of you. You love someone so much that you want them to swell up with what is yours. Just fucking the cum back into them every time it slips out, one goal. Give someone my babies."

As he talks, his own words excite him; you can feel it, and you say nothing. The air surrounding you two is charged with such a lewd and sensual energy.

You throb between your thighs as he speaks to you, and his voice is getting deeper and deeper. He is hot and hard against your cheek; you stare up at him, your eyes leaving his own to trail the way his lips move to the way his jaw clenches, to the way his throat bobs all the way to his tatted, glowing chest. His words are getting to you. It's no secret that you, too, had a breeding kink, but hearing him say the words you wished to hear spoken to you in the midst of passion made you shoot into action. You are on his lap before you know it, mouth mushing against his in an instant.

He doesn't hesitate to return the favor; he separates your lips, gliding his tongue into your mouth, licking you open. You moan into his mouth, pressing yourself against him harder. He lets out a shaky breath through his nose, reaching one hand up to grasp the back of your neck and the other on your ass, pushing you impossibly closer to him.

You rock your hips against him, grinding down over him; he lets out a raspy groan, pulling away from your lips, his head falling to watch where your bodies connect; he lets out a moan as his grey briefs darken in color. You continue to glide back and forth over him

You swear you hear him whimper as you lift from his lap. He reaches to pull you back, but you are too fast; kneeling between his spread legs, the sight alone has him letting out another drawn-out whine. Your hand creeps up, rubbing him through the material. You were such a fucking vixen it was driving him mad. His head falls back against the headboard, and his eyes squeeze shut. You're barely doing anything to him, and it feels better than anything he's ever experienced, and he can only equate it to it being you.

You finally free him from his confines, and his head drops down to view you, and his jaw falls slack.

You jerk him up and down, your thumb swiping over the slit at the head of his perfect cock. You moan at the sight, and he twitches. You kiss at the top, staring at him through your lashes, and he swears he almost burst right then and there. Your lips are shiny with spit and you're practically drooling over him. As you place kisses up and down his shaft. You finally slip him into your mouth humming as you taste him. It has his legs spasming making you jostle a little.

You pop him from your mouth, giving him a cute smile that has him throwing his head back. She's going to fucking kill me.

You're moaning over him, driving him absolutely fucking insane. Lewis watches you through clouded eyes, his hand traveling to your hair. He pushes you lower and lower until you're shoving all of him down your throat, and then he pulls you off for air. You smile up at him going down again, and he lets out the nastiest moan you've ever heard.

"So fucking greedy for my dick." You'd never heard him speak like this, and it was scrambling your brain and your insides. "Mhmm," you moan over him. He holds onto your hair with his left hand, his right hand trailing to pull up the shirt that adorns your beautiful body. The higher he raises the shirt, the more unstable he becomes; the black panties cover barely anything, and when he continues to glide his hand up your back, your breasts hang loosely. He fondled them in his hand tweaking your nipple.

He tenses up, watching you take him down your throat like a champ, "fuuckk."

He pulls you up for the last time, leaning down to capture your lips in a passionate kiss. He thrust up into nothing. His tongue finds it's way into your mouth and moves along with you in the most sensual kiss you'd ever gotten in your life.

"Lew." you whine, and it has him tensing again. This was better than he'd imagined. For years for his entire life he'd pictured this moment, played it out in a million different scenarios and they don't even measure up to this.

He was harder than he'd ever been and ready to finish at the mere sight of you looking up at him with his cock stuffed in your mouth.

"I can't- I won't last-" He is breathless, and his chest is falling up and down harshly. He looks so perfect, face tinted red and lips red and plump.

"Fuck me then," you order, and it flips a switch in him.

He'd dreamed of this moment, and he would be damned if he let his mind fuck this up for him. He pulls the large shirt from your frame and flips you over, laying you gently on your back. He hikes your legs up, spreading them open and pressing them down. Your knees touch the bed flat at your sides, and you mewl as his tongue flatly glides against your core.

You shiver and shake as he sucks you up. You can't stop squirming as he literally eats you. You moan his name over and over, hands coming down to clutch his curls. He moans against your core, pressing you down harder. You quiver in his hold, and you can feel that ball inside you, ready to burst. "Come for me, baby, let it out." He urges kissing your clit. He sucks it into his mouth, and that's when it happens.

The best orgasm you've had in your life. He licks you through it before sitting up on his knees. He still has you spread open at his mercy, and the sight below him has him stroking himself above you.

"So fucking pretty." he rasps, "ready for me?"

You nod, so fucked out that words seem impossible to you.

He chuckles, his hand coming up to hold you open as his other directs his hard dick to your hole; he pushes the head in at first, hissing as you suck him in. "Mhhm," he moans, "want me so bad, huh?"

You mewl, trying to push your body up to push him in.

"Aht, aht." he pushes his hand against you harder. "Let me take my time, make it right for us, yeah. Been wanting this forever."

His words make you gush more and more; you'd never imagine that Lewis, of all people, was this vocal during sex.

"He lets go of himself, both hands now gripping your thighs that are still burning against your chest. He stares deep into your soul as he pushes himself in an inch just to ease out just as slowly.

"Gotta stretch this pretty pussy out first, huh? So fucking tight." he coos.

Your eyes fall closed, your mouth going slack as he slides in again. "It's your dick, baby. All yours."

"C'mon bunny, wanna see your eyes, wanna watch you take me." You open your eyes breaths leaving you as little hitches as he finally fills you up.

"He sucks his bottom lip into his mouth, his eyes watching where the two of you connect. "Fits so good," he groans, "made jus' for me."

You only mewl and clench the sheets.

"So pretty," he drops your legs, propping himself up on an elbow; his weight covers you like a security blanket. "Mhmm." he moans, sliding in and out of you. Your walls were suffocating him, sucking him in and trying to keep him in place. His face is scrunched up in pure pleasure as he succumbs to your velvety walls. So fucking warm and wet.

"Love this pussy." he groans before his mouth is back on yours.

"Say it's mine," he orders pulling back, he is towering over you again, one hand clutching your face to watch him watch you.

You only moan, equating his words to being in the moment even though they have your stomach doing flips.

"Say it's mine, baby, and I'll give you what you want."

It's like he hit a switch in you, brought out a side of you that you've never been able to release.

"It's yours," you coo, "all yours, only yours."

His eyes shine at your words, pressing a quick peck to your lips.

"Nobody can give it to you like me, they don't deserve it, been so good to you. Hmm. Can give you everything you want."

One hand travels down to your stomach, where he presses down, "Feel me in there?"

"yes." you gasp, eyes rolling back; the sex is no longer slow and sensual. He is pounding into you so hard that your body lurches up and down the bed, and your breast bounces with every thrust.

Lewis Hamilton is a dirty man, you conclude watching his lips fall open from the dirty smirk he'd had it in.

"Got something else to put in there." You clench around him tighter curses falling from his mouth as he stills inside of you.

You know he is only in the moment, this whole debacle started because of his admission of a praise kink, you know he's playing along with yours, he wants to get you there in the same way you want to get him there so you play along.

"I want it." you whine, "want it all."

Lewis thought it was impossible for him to get any hornier, but once again, you've proven him wrong.

"Want you to fill me up, want to be full of you." You play on his words from earlier. "Want all of you."

He moans once again, spreading you open. He is plowing into you. Loud grunts left his throat as he digs deeper and deeper into you. He can feel every crevice of your flesh as you swallow him.

"Gonna give you what you want, make you big and full, have you carrying my babies. Going to have what you always wanted, love."

Your eyes fall shut at his words in utter bliss.

He lays on top of you, the burn of your thighs spreading. His hands travel to your own, holding them on either side of your head. His head is nestled between the crook of your neck; he's sucking and licking along your neck. You feel him everywhere.

"mmph," you moan as he reaches and punches against your sweet spot over and over.

Lewis is so fucked out in a loving haze that he can't control the words tumbling from his lips onto your skin.

"Wanted this forever, so long." He whimpers, "Feel so good, only wanna feel you. Only wanted you."

You free one hand from his hold wrapping it around to rub at the curls at the nape of his neck. You want him to keep talking, keep feeding you the words you've waited your whole life for him to say. "I can give you everything you want, baby."

Your eyes roll to the back of your head, and you can't tell if it's from the pleasure he's giving you or the words he's dribbling out.

"Taking me so well, fuck!" he sits up on his knees again, turning you over without pulling out of you; you're on all fours as he plows into you from behind.

"So mean, making me wait so long, letting me be with the wrong woman, should've been you." You clench around him eyes squeezing shut, you shouldn't enjoy these words as much as you do but you can't help it.

"Wanted it to be you, would've had our family by now, so many kids, so happy." You're literally shaking, the fire growing inside of you, making it impossible to ward off your second orgasm.

"Been looking for you in all these women, never were you, never could be. Fucking couldn't get hard without imagining your face. Always had to be you." He sounds so vulnerable and open behind you. You want to see his face so badly, and you want to watch him as he admits what you've always desired.

Like he read your mind, he flips you over again, nestling between your legs and pushing himself in again with a hiss, "Gotta see your face when you come, love."

You're on top of him, relishing in the way he looks up at you. Your thighs are placed on either side of him lifting over and over as he glides in and out of you.

He looks so beautiful, you think even if he is spitting out the most wild and lewd words you've ever had spoken to you. "Gonna empty this dick in you baby, give you my baby. Make you mine, all mine." He growls.

"Could've had this all along if you said something sooner, bunny. Would have had you feeling like this all of the time."

His hands are on your waist, lifting you up and down over him. You fall forward one hand holding you up and the other reaching down to cup his jaw. You press your lips over his, breathless pants traveling from one mouth to the other. The eye contact is intense as you stare each other down. His eyes literally sparkle as he fuck up into you, his mouth dropped open. You kiss him one last time before sitting up again and setting your own pace, "Fuck Lew, you feel so good."

You're bouncing on him at a much slower pace as his eyes fall closed and his grip tightens on your flesh.

You're not responsible for what you say when you cum, it's common knowledge, which is why when Lewis flips you over and barrels into you at a much softer pace you let his words carry no penalty, albeit the way they make your eyes water, albeit the way you return them truthfully.

It's so overwhelming you can't help the way the tears flow from your eyes and slide onto the sheets. He's cumming in spurts, hot and gooey, filling you to the brim. Lewis has never come so much. He lets out an array of grunts and moans. He's so out of it that he lets his words tumble out without a care in the world, and he means them wholly. He's fucking his cum into you, pushing it back in with his dick as you quiver around him.

"Love you, fuck, I fucking love you."

#lewis hamilton #x black reader #lewis hamilton x black reader #f1 #formula 1 #formual one #lewis hamilton imagine

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sheaabuttaababyy · 2 months ago

Text

Regret - JU and RR

Jey x Faith x Roman

Warning: Lots of Angst, masturbation, slight fluff

Sobs left Faith body as Josh sat across from her, silent. Guilt written all over his face. She wiped her tears, but it was no use. Fresh ones streaming down her face as she looked at the man sitting in front of her.

"Why? I don’t understand. I’ve been there for you for everything your ups and down. Whenever you needed me I was there. Now your leaving me for her? The one who broke your heart that I healed?" Another sob leaving Faith’s mouth at the end of her sentence.

Josh winced at her words, not knowing what to say. "I-im sorry, I didn’t mean any of this to happen." He gripped his mullet feeling stressed.

Faith scoffed standing up, anger building up inside her. "The fuck you mean you didn’t mean for this to happpen? You been fucking your ex for months while we’re engaged and got her fucking pregnant. And now here you are telling me you are leaving me to go build a family with her!!!"

"Faye, I know your mad and you every right to be, but I have to be there for my kid. I know it hurts but Emma is different now, she isn’t the same girl who used to break my heart and use me for my money. She loves me.

"I LOVE YOU, IVE ALWAYS LOVED YOU THROUGH EVERYTHING. I never cared if you had money or if you were broke I Loved you Josh, and this is how you repay me!?"

"I’m sorr-"

"It’s always I’m sorry, oh I’m so sorry for hurting you, fuck you piece of shit. Your nothing you fucking cunt. You and that walking std deserve each other. I hope she gives you a fucking disease from how many niggas she fucks daily" Josh blinked not believing what he was hearing. This wasn’t the sweet faith he knew.

"Just get the fuck out my house and give me my fathers ring back" Eyes going to his left hand, where the ring sat on his ring finger. Slowly twisting the black band off, he held it in his palm, it quickly getting snatched out his hand.

"Take this mothafucka too, give it to that bitch" Taking her engagement ring off throwing it directly at the forehead at her now Ex-fiancé, bouncing off and falling in his lap. He picked it up holding it in her direction. "You can keep this, it’s still yours"

"I don’t want it. I don’t want anything you gave me or anything that has a trace of you. I want you burned out my Brain, no reminder of you" Josh stared at her in disbelief, his chest starting to feel heavy.

"The fuck you just sitting there looking stupid for? Get. The. Fuck. Out" finally standing up, he got up going towards the front door before leaving, his eyes now burning.

3 months. 3 months since that night and Josh’s life has been, hell.

Currently he was sitting in his living room, staring at nothing in particular. "Joshyyy pooh" Emma’s loud annoying voice, was heard making him roll his eyes. "What?" He knew he responded harshly but he didn’t care, she’s been on his nerves.

"I need some money" of course, money. It was always money with her. "I already gave you so much already. Where did all that go?"

"I spent it all on shopping" she spoke like it was nothing. "You shopped for the baby too right? Cause that’s what most of the money was for"

"Why would I use the money you gave me for the baby?" Josh looked at her as if she was dumb. Which she was.

"Emma don’t piss me off right now. You literally said that’s why you needed it"

"Oh I spent that on a Birkin bag" she giggled, pissing him off even more. "Pleaseeeee" she got on her knees pulling on his shorts. His face was straight, not reacting at all. Once she got his pants and boxers down, she took ahold of his soft dick.

Five minutes of trying to get it up, but it was still on soft. "What is wrong with you? It’s been three months and your dick still can’t get hard" Josh just shrugged not even bothering to look at her as he grabbed his phone. It’s been like this for months now, everytime he tries to do anything sexual with Emma, his dick could never get hard anymore.

She huffed scrabbling up to get back on her feet. "Can I just get some money now? I tried at least." Josh shook his head, eyes still on his phone. "No" Emma let out a frustrated scream, stomping to the front door, leaving the house.

"Finally" Joshua whispered relieved that the cause of his headache was gone, as he logged onto his fake account on instagram. Immediately he went to Faiths page scrolling through her pictures.

As he continued to scroll, his dick jumped seeing her pretty face and body. "Fuckk" he clicked on her bikini picture, grabbing his dick that was now standing hard and tall.

He spat on his hand, bringing it back to his lower half, stroking himself. "Fuck, Faith. Why you gotta be so sexy" he groaned tossing his head back, imagining it was her he was fucking. Remembering how her sweet moans were, how her ass would ripple each time he fucked her from the back, how good her pussy tasted on his tongue. His eyes shot open feeling his nut coming, his eyes fixated on his phone, looking at the picture of her.

"Aghhh fuck" he shouted his hand moving faster. His body stilled, stomach flexing as ropes of cum shot out his tip. "Fuckk faithhh" he whimpered, coming down from his high. He sighed, looking up at the ceiling. What the fuck has his life come to?

Looking back at his phone he was about to exit out but noticed her new picture. The fuck? He clicked up the picture of her sitting on pink flower petals.

Faithmonae ✔️

Liked by Trinity fatu, Roman Reigns, Kehlani and others

FaithMonae✔️ My man really went all out for me🥹❤️

KennedyRyan New man!?!?

WWE_gossip Tea for meeee

Natnatpat Aww period get spoiled sis

Tinamonae Being treated the way you should. I know that’s right

Josh’s head flooded with a million questions, new man?? Who the fuck is this? Who did this for her? Has she really moved on from him that quickly? Getting up he went to the washroom to clean himself as he called his twin.

"Yoooo, what’s up?" Jon’s voice came through, but Josh had no time for funny talk. "Who the fuck is Faith’s man?" Jon went silent on the other end, irritating Josh further. "Stop playing with me Jon, who is he? I know her an Trinity still talk and she tells you everything."

"I don’t know man" the older twin replied. "Stop fucking lying to me!"

"you better watch your tone, before I do sum you won’t like. Plus I’m being for real i don’t know, she won’t even tell Trin who it is."

He rubbed a hand down his face feeling overwhelmed. This was all too much to take in. Josh knew he fucked up. Putting her through everything, leaving her for his Ex who did him wrong and is doing it again. He fucked up.

But he never expected her to move on. Especially this quick. "Tell Trinity to ask. Ima find out which fucker tryna take her from me."

"Bruh leave her alone. You already put her through so much shit, she’s finally moving on. Finally happy don’t ruin that for her."

Closing his eyes he listened to his brothers words. He should leave her alone, but he can’t. He wants her back. "You know I can’t do that Uce. I need her. All of this made me realize how much I need her, she’s my other half. I’m miserable without her."

"Well who’s fault is that?" Josh put his head down in shame. "Mine"

"Exactly. You need to focus on the child you put in that whore. If it even is yours."

"It is mine!" Josh shouted feeling anger. "I know how Emma is I get that. Her ass wouldn’t go that far and lie though, I know that for a fact."

"Right… anyways I gotta go lil bruh, talk to ya later"

Josh found himself driving to his twins house, as he got there he saw his cousin Joe and little brother Joseph already there a hanging out in the family room.

4 tequila shots in and he found himself spilling out everything he was feeling to them. "I took care of her, let that bitch stay in my house. Gave her everything she wanted, just for the baby to be someone else’s." He darkly chuckled taking another shot. The burning in his throat, feeling too good to him at the moment.

"5 months ago I thought I was gonna be a dad, I was ready to see my baby girl. And s-she" he swallowed back the sob that was built in his throat, washing it away with more alcohol. Remembering the day he was in the delivery room with Emma as she gave birth, the baby coming out looking nothing like him at all. And even freshly out you could tell, even the doctors and nurses knew it. And the way Emma cried as Josh questioned it. He knew for a fact it wasn’t his child.

"She lied to me. Used me. Again. I left the best thing that ever happened to me, to raise a child with her that wasn’t even mine" he gripped the tequila bottle not even bothering to pour it in the cup anymore.

"I mean you put yourself in this position. You made the decision to go back to her and fuck her. Even if she didn’t lie about this whole baby thing, you still fucked up, and ruined everything with Faith" Joe’s voice rang out, making everyone in the room look towards him.

Josh snarled, listening to his words. "I know man"

"Do you? Cause you treated Faith like shit. Fucking around with that dumb bitch Emma. She literally cheated on you multiple times when you were together." Joe let out a laugh before continuing. "You were so lucky to have Faith, she’s a woman every man wanted. Beautiful, smart, loyal, caring. She helped you at your lowest times, she’s the reason why you were doing so good in your career. Now look at you. A fucking bum, with a fucked up life." Joe stood up feeling slightly angry, still not believing how dirty his cousin did her.

"I told yo ass if you don’t treat her right, don’t get mad when someone else does. And look at you now, your mad cause now someone is treating her how she deserves and it isn’t you that’s doing it." Josh stood up, his cousins words triggering him. He knew he was right.

"MAN SHUT THE FUCK UP" Jon and Joseph quickly rushed between the two as they sized eachother up, looking ready to fight one another. "Chill chill" Jon pushed his twin slightly back. "Nah he got me fucked up" Josh threw the bottle at the wall causing it to shatter.

Joe stepped back, grabbing his keys off the glass table. He walked pass his cousins stopping at Josh. "Your pathetic" he smiled in his face before, going to leave out the house. Door slamming shut leaving the three brothers in silence.

2 months since the big fight with Joe. The two didn’t talk at all. Josh’s been busy, trying to focus on wrestling, it not going so well. He’s been lacking, he knew it and the world noticed too. He’s been trying to get in contact with Faith sending her messages, emails, calls from different numbers, but she hasn’t responded to a single one.

Josh pulled into a 90s themed diner, one that he and Faith used to go to all the time, when they were together. Getting out the car, he walked towards the diner before stopping In his tracks. The sight in front of him breaking his heart. Watching through the window he saw Faith and Joe laughing flush against eachother in a booth, feeding each other, small kisses between each bite, happy smiles planted on their faces.

His eyes burned with tears seeing them together. feeling betrayed and hurt. He watched Faith get up from the booth placing a loving, kiss on Joe’s lips, as she turned around to walk away, he didn’t miss how he slapped her ass making her giggle.

Body on fire, shaking with anger, he took long strides, going inside the restaurant. He stopped towards his big cousin, who was drinking his coffee, legs spread apart one arm across the booth seat. A smirk planted on his face seeing his upset lil cousin. "Sup cuzzo"

"What the fuck are you doing with her here, why are you kissing, hugged up, dammit everything!"

Unfazed Joe took another sip before. "We’re together" he spoke casually.

"How could you do this to me? You know I still wanted her? Wait You the fucking guy who got her all those pink flowers?"

"Correct"

"You went after her three months me and her separated?" Josh slammed his hand on the table, causing it to shake.

"Actually. I went after her 2 days after y’all called it a quits"

"Ima kill yo ass." Josh said lowly gritting his teeth. His eyes drifting off to his cousins left hand, a Black band resting around, on his ring finger. The same one he wore around his, a time ago.

Joe smiled, looking into his cousins eyes. "Do it." Sending him another smile, his eyes landing behind Josh, a wider and genuine smile taking over his face.

"Babeee, my feet hurt I think I need a massag-" Josh felt his heart stop hearing that sweet, angelic voice again. 13 months it’s been, since he’s heard it.

Faiths voice faltered seeing her ex. "Oh, hi" she spoke awkwardly, her eyes darting between the two cousins. "Faith" he let out a loss of words seeing her in-front of him.

His eyes drifted downwards, landing on her stomach that was slightly swollen, her hand protectively over it, a big diamond, decorating it. Josh felt sick, like he was going to pass out. Not only was his big cousin, dating her. They were engaged and are having a baby together."

"No" he whispered. Joe quickly stood up, already knowing Josh was going to cause a scene. "Baby go to the car I’ll be right there" passing Faith the keys, he gently guided her to the exit.

"But-"

"Sweetheart. Please."

Her eyes went to Josh who looked like was going crazy as he mumbled to himself. "Okay, please be quick" nodding his head, placing a kiss on her lips, mumbling a quick "I love you" against them, before she left the building.

"You got her pregnant man" Josh pushed Joe’s chest, hyperventilating.

"Hey, hey! Look at me." Gripping the back of his neck her put his forehead against his. "You never deserved her, ever. You took her for granted, this would have never happened if you did your part as a man and Treated her right. You can’t be upset with me, and you Damn sure can’t be mad at her. You did this" Joe spoke harshly, before pushing Josh back, his ass landing on the booth chair.

"I love you little cousin, but I love her more. Me and Faith are going to have our little boys in 3 months so please, for the love of god. Let us be happy, let her be happy. That’s the least you could do" pulling 3 hundred dollar bills, he placed it on the table as a tip, before, leaving.

Josh put his head down on the table, a cry leaving his body.

"Sweetheart, I thought I told you to go into the car" Joe said walking towards Faith who stood outside the entrance of the diner. "I know, I know. I was just worried about you" he took her hand placing a kiss on the back of it.

"Don’t worry about me, you know I can beat anyones ass" his playful tone, making her laugh. Reaching the car he opened the passenger door , helping her get in. Rubbing her stomach, he bent down placing a kiss on it, doing the same to her lips, before rounding the car to get in the driver seat.

Inside the diner, Josh watched with a heavy heart. Seeing Joe and faith together, sharing looks of love just like they used to. Tears fell down his face as he saw their car drive away, leaving him feeling broken and alone. A big reminder of what he had lost.

Author note: Well damn.

🏷 @charmed-dreamssss @usoinked @mselenalovebug @theusotwinzcom @bloodlineslut @trippinsorrows @catxo @whowrotethenote @uceyliyahh @adoreesun @christinabae @mjonthetrack

#jey uso x black oc #jey uso x black reader #jey uso fanfiction #roman reigns x black oc #roman reigns fanfic #roman reigns fanfiction #wwe fanfic #black reader #black oc #roman reigns #Jey uso

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mookiesspace · 8 months ago

Text

《《 𝑇𝑂𝑋𝐼𝐶 𝑃𝐴𝑅𝑇 2 》》

ony x black fem reader , implied cheating , strong language , smut , angst , toxic relationship , jealous ony , picture links , images in story , pov switch (reader to ony back to reader) , mdni 18+

a/n: this was sooo time consuming and I feel like I really did my one two on ts 😩 !! I hope the pov switch ain't confuse nb so that's why I put onys pov in green (when you get to the switch) & readers pov is in white ! && ony is represented with a "☆" above his pov while readers is "♡"

♡

**beep! beep! beep! bee-** the sound of your alarm before smacking it off. "shit.." you mumbled. you seriously didn't wanna get up after last night. damn what did happen last night for you to be so dam tired?? "damn 7:30 already? it's to damn early for this shit broo." you moaned forcing yourself outta bed while lazily dragging your body to the bathroom. looking in the mirror you sluggishly rub your eyes while your other hand ran your fingers thru your messy hair, slowly opening your big brow eyes to see your reflection in the mirror while getting ready to start your day.

"fuck.. why did i do that." sighing softly. right. you slept with ony again. why did this become such a natural thing?? why couldn't you just leave that stupid nigga alone, what was so hypnotizing about him that couldn't make you pull away?? walking to your messy bed you find a note lying on the dresser next to it reading 'sorry about last night mama, meet at 8 tonight so I can make it up to ya?' groaning at the note you quickly balled it up before tossing it into the trash. you had other things to focus on and worry about, other things excluding ony. he of all the was the last thing you needed to worry about yet along see. you were growing sick of the constant fighting and fucking all over the same shit, him being a no good cheating ass nigga. what you finally needed was a night out, a night to focus on you and your life damn well not his! you didn't belong to him, damn you ain't belong to anyone you're a boss bitch and you deserve better. and well all know you were gonna get it if it's the last thing you did!

"damnn bitch you i missed youuu!!" sasha squealed squeezing you tightly it had been forverr since you seen your girls sasha & mikasa and like always it was never a dull moment with the two "we missed you boo, how you been?" mikasa added pulling sasha off you. "shitt ion even know anymore," you giggled before taking a sip of your drink "I did fuck on ony last night tho.." you muttered "YOU WHAT BITCH??" "didn't he cheat on you? GIRL you need to sta-" "stay away from that no good ass nigga yes I know sasha. whatchu think I've been doing?" you groaned slouching onto the couch beneath you "clearly not good enough if you let him into yo panties." mikasa snickered at you an sasha's annoyance "don't laugh and help me!!" you whined only for mikasa to sigh loudly "I'm with sash on this one boo, ony's no good and you know that." "ughhh you two are so frustrating" groaning again as the two giggled with one another "let's just go out tonight hm? like we used to do! that'll get ya mind off him for sure" sasha implied. at first, going out sounded like a bad idea.. what if you ran into ony? what if he tried to talk to you and you gave in all over again?? what if- "cmon girl it's been forever!! pleaseeeee" your best friend begged. rolling your eyes while deeply sighing you gave in "ok ok. let's do it, I need a distraction anyways.." your friends cheered lovingly as they planned the entire night out but all you could think about is how badly you wanted ony still, you missed him. the old him.. him touch, his taste, his affection.. his everything. but that was over now, it's been over and now all you really needed was that night out. a night without thinking about anything but you and yo girls, a night without him.

"fuck I look good.." you muttered while looking in your tall bedazzled mirror. yeah you were bound to get some tonight and it wasn't gonna be with him that's for sure. you pull out your phone to post a pic on instagram posing in your big living room mirror, arching your back ever so slightly giving the perfect view of your round fat ass while lookin bad as fuck now waiting to link up with your girls for the best night ever.

☆

"yea bro ionk I for real miss ha" he sighed, taking a long hit of the blunt before passing it to his homeboy eren, man spreading as he pulls out his phone to browse her instagram. "damnn man, I mean I wouldn't be surprised if she ain't tryna fuck with you again." eren added, Connie snickering alongside him in response. "mann you ain't helpin. and shut yo ass up connie that's why she didn't want yo ugly ass" the man groaned, connie following with an irritated sigh before hitting the shared blunt. "not my fault you cheated, man you seriously fucked up & I ain't ugly ho" he replied with an eye roll. ony knew what the two were saying was true but he seriously didn't mean it, he got drunk and it jus happen.. it shouldn't of happen he knew that.. he shouldn't have went to that damn party, he shouldn't have fought with you that day. maybe if he just listened to you.. things would be back to normal.. well not anymore shit what is there left to redeem? everything was all fucked up- "DAMNNN" connie laughed, what was that nigga lookin at?? "oh shitt bro, you definitely ain't getting her back now" eren added, laughing with connie in response. "huh?" raising an eyebrow he snatches erens phone to see not only you at a party you had no business being at but your his ass backed up against that no good ass nigga jean. "hell na." he huffed growing irritated by the second before reaching for his own phone to text his babygirl..

the tall man gritted his teeth harshly, rubbing his fingers through his waves. "fuck wrong wit-" "I'm thinking." seconds pass with pure silence. Eren and Connie's suspension rose quickly before he spoke sternly. "ight pull up y/n location and let's go." "whatcu finna do crazy??" eren spoke, rising an eyebrow, connie nodding in agreement. "what I say?" the two men watch as their homeboy took off out the front door, clearly leaving to his car. "mannn, if he shoot up the place again, im go be pissed." "still wondering how he managed to cheat on ha and STILL be crazy about that girl." they both share a laugh before heading out the door themselves to follow behind ony.

♡

you scoff loudly, kissing your teeth in pure irritation. "jean babyyyy.." you speak softly into the man's ear, voice silk like smooth honey, running your long manicured nails up and down his neck. "what's up baby?" he spoke, big hands gripping at your waist ever so tightly sending shivers down your spine. "let's go somewhere more.. private.." standing you your tippy toes you lean into his ear while your hands explored his muscular body "she needs you baby.." that along made his dick grow hard, a sly smirk began to display on his face as he grabbed your hand and began walking with you through the crowd of people. safely making it twords a secluded area you hear your phone ding, you roll your eyes knowing the text was most likely from ony, or so you thought.. *ding!* *ding!* *ding!!* "damn mama who blowing yo shit up?" jean chuckled as he rubbed fat of your ass "no one it doesn't matter, let's go baby" you added, following along to the door moving yet through a crowd of people once again. the faster tou get outta here the fucking better you thought, just seconds after you feel a strong hand grip onto your wrist pulling you back "Hey!?! what the fuc-" words cut off once you were facing the one man you prayed not to run into tonight. Onyankopon.. "fuck you doin here?" he growled, looking up to see that you clearly weren't alone he scoffed, sucking his teeth as he looked the other man up and down "and you tryna leave this this pussy ass nigga?" laughing he rested his other hand on his forehead, licking hip plump pink lips, his gold grillz peaking out. You snatched your wrist away from him and rolled your eyes moving back towards Jean "we ain't together Ony, and last time I checked it wasn't yo damn business who I talk to or go with. I'm a grown woman" "yeah well you MY woman, so bring yo lil ass over here and let's go before shit stir up." he barked back, God you hated how he always had to say something you glared at him intensely, feeling the heat of the situation rise more and more. just before you could say something else to end things Jean let out a low laugh "fucks funny nigga." ony now glaring at jean, both men & you now slowly becoming the center of attention, what you didn't want tonight. "baby let's jus' go-" "funny how you claim she's yo girl, yet she here with me?" he spoke, a smirk appearing on his face as he looked directly at ony. shit, he's mad. really mad. you can see him clutching his fist while eyes you and him. "got nothing to say pussy? or are you just mad yo 'girl' ain't really yo-" BAM! before you knew it jean was knocked the fuck out on the ground, the crowd was filming and shouting all kinds of shit, all while you were being pulled away by Ony..

"s-shit! ony slow downnn AH!" your pretty little moans falling against deaf ears fuck why was he fucking you so rough? your wet pussy was clenching around him so tightly sending sparks and tingles right down to his already hard dick. "y-you always gotta show out, almost got that pussy ass nigga f-fucked up... shit.." he groaned, big hand sending harsh, firm slaps to your plump brown ass "ion give no fucks whatchu say mama, we gon' work thi shit out. ya hear me?" he grunts, low eyes shooting daggers at the back of your head. you can feel how hot the tension is but you can't focus, how long has it been?? your pussy is so stuffed and full you can barely speak as it is, head sinking down into the pillow you let out more shallow cries and moans, choking on your own tears and hiccups as his pace speeds up, and his thrusts deepen inside you "I'm talking to you girl." he's basically demanding a response, no. he IS demanding a response from you, sending more angry slaps to your fat ass he grabs you by the back of the neck pulling your limp body up against his "answer me." he demands, pussy clenching tighter against his thick dick your head hangs low "I- I can'ttt... ugahhh" you mumbled, words all twisted and fucked up worse than before. it feels so good, to damn good. he let's out a low chuckle before flipping you over on your back, grabbing ahold your neck before fucking you dumber "ian got no time for games mama you hear me?" thrusting harder than before at his last few words making you yelp "y-yes! fuckkkk onnyyy!!" you cry, you feel your stomach bubble and thighs tighten as he's deep in you, your soft gummy walls sending shivers down his spine making the pleasure better than it was before. he let's go of his tight grip around your neck, as you try catching your breath he pulls your body up hugging onto your smaller frame, your long nails now clawing at his back leaving all kinds of marks for whoever to see eyes crossing, toes curling and mouth slightly agape as drool pool out. he's biting his bottom lip, now gripping your ass even tighter, spanking it again roughly. "you look so beautiful mama.. I missed this." he moaned out, fuck it feels so good you thought. you're unable to even speak, still mumbling whatever mess can come out of your pretty little mouth. you can feel your body growing stiff as you're getting close to your realse. "Onnnyyyyyyy-" you whined out, nails digging into his back yet again. he let's out a low grunt "I know mama, I know." he's fucking you so deep it feel so surreal you can't help but shove your head into his broad shoulders while chasing after your soon sweet release. "I'm sooo closee.. f-fuckkkk onyy~" you moaned, sounding so fucking perfect, looking so fucking perfect he thought. "let it out mama.." and before you knew it, you feel your lower body burst, juices spilling everywhere coating the bed and yourselves in your sweet arousal, ony quickly following behind filling you up so deeply.. so lovingly. you both sigh heavily, nothing but short quick deep breaths and low groans filling the room as he lays you down, slowly pulling out of you watching his cum pour out only to take his tumb and stuff it all back in "this pussy is mine ma, don't do no shit like that again ya hear me?" he grumbled, low eyes staring into yours. "yes ony.." your response causing him to raise a brow "yes daddy." you spoke lowly, looking up at him with wide doe eyes as he smirks, smile growing into a sick grin allowing his grillz to appear once again.

your body feels heavy, you sit up picking up your phone to check the time and your group chat with your girls.

"shit." you mumbled, rubbing your head lightly only to feel a thick arm wrap around your waist "what's wrong, ma?" turning next to you to see ony still in bed eyes still closed as he yawned "nothin, jus' the girls.." "mhm" silence. your chest feels heavy as you ponder with your thoughts, lost at words as you stare at the tall man next to you. ony pulls your body closer, you falling down right next to him, his arm now fully wrapped around you as you lay together in silence. "look at me, mama." he mutters lowly, voice smooth and clear. you turn to look at him, big brown eyes staring at his now opened one's, you look so beautiful right now.. morning sunlight, hitting your beautiful brown skin, he takes his hand rubbing his thumb against your plush cheek, kissing it gently. "Ian go leave you," he whispers, cool morning rushing against your skin causing you to shake. you wanna believe him, you really do.. but how many chances do you have to give him before you're really close to nothing? "I love you, y/n. I mean that." your heart starts to beat faster than usual as your eyes swell up with tears. "Ony-" "Ma, I wanna make this right." It's all to much.. "I can't keep doing this immature ass shit, I hurt you, baby, trust me, I know. I have to live with that guilt every damn day. I wish ian do it, I really do but baby I promise it was a mistake. something that should've never happened. I miss you ma, I miss us.." there they are. salty tears run down your cheek, ony wipes them away as he pulls you closer hugging you tightly. "how do I know I can trust you Onyankopon? I don't wanna go through this shit anymore.." "You won't have to baby, I promise. I just need you to trust me.. trust that I'll make it right.." you hesitate before speaking, trying to collect your thoughts. he kisses your head lighlty squeezing you tighter "we all the time in the world, don't worry ma. no rush.."

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wonderlustwrites · 2 months ago

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terry richmond x black!reader summary ; in which terry, despite never being one for birthdays, realizes maybe a push was all he needed? word count ; 4.9k warnings ; none - mostly fluff, some vulgar language used, a SMIDGE (barely...) suggestive towards the end...enjoy! ｢ author's note: just want to thank the wonderful and ever amazing @megamindsecretlair for coming up with the fun #TerrysBirthdayBash tag + event and allowing us all to celebrate our favorite man's birthday together ! happpyy birthday pooks ♡ ｣

He doesn’t even know how he got here or how in the hell he let these niggas talk him into this, and yet…

It’s barely midnight, and he feels he’s seen enough. He needs air or something. Everything feels so stuffy and too hot, plus the smell of weed is giving him a headache, and he just needs a breather.

He heads upstairs to an empty room and finds a balcony. Taking a seat outside and enjoying the crisp night air. He takes a sip of the same cup of beer he’s been practically holding hostage since he came to the party and almost gags. It’s warm and tastes like piss. He scrunches his face, forces the sip down, and sets his cup to the side as he slinks down in the chair.

He closes his eyes, forcing himself to take a breather, and tries to enjoy the quiet moment, not knowing how long he has before he’s found and forced back down to the party.

You came with some friends, mostly because they needed a designated driver, and you weren’t much of a drinker. Plus, you just so happened to have a car, so you supposed it worked out.

Outside of them, you hadn’t known nor recognized anyone. Though you tell yourself it’s okay to have some fun, as you’ve been putting in a lot of work this semester. And for a while, you do, putting on a smile and surprisingly enjoying yourself, but after about an hour and a half, plus your girls find their little "fun time" friends…heading off lord knows where, so you figure you’ll busy yourself until they’re ready to go.

After walking around for a while, you come across a room that thankfully isn’t occupied (you had a couple of awkward run-ins). Heading in, you close the door quietly behind you, the balcony immediately catching your eye, so you make your way out, stretching your limbs as you yawn.

"Long night, huh?"

The deep voice causes you to jump as you make a noise you don't even recognize. Since you weren't expecting anyone else out here, you turn to find the voice. And you almost immediately recognize him as you catch your breath.

You put your hand on your heart, steadying yourself and calming your breathing while you laugh awkwardly.

"Fuck! You scared me, sorry…I didn’t know anyone else was out here. If I’m bothering, I can go. I didn’t mean to intrude." He readily puts a hand up, shaking his head softly.

"No, no, you’re good…I needed a moment away from the party, too, so I get it."

You smile softly nodding as you find a place near the railing. In moments like this, you hate your need to fill the awkward silence with noise so it feels less awkward…not that it ever works.

"Yeah, it’s pretty stuffy down there….and a lil rank, won’t lie." Your words cause a laugh to come from him, which brings a smile to your own face; maybe today is the day your big mouth will work in your favor.

You turn, leaning your back and arms against the railing, looking at him.

"What?" the genuine confusion and slight concern on his face make you giggle, and you shake your head, calming him to some degree.

"Nothing, nothing, it’s just…" You stop yourself, honestly not sure what you want to say, but force words out nonetheless.

"It’s just nice to hear you speak, I guess? I don’t know if you know, but we share an art class, Professor Tanusia?" It's almost like a lightbulb goes off as he nods and smiles at your words.

Part of Terry is surprised by the conversation, and though he initially came to the balcony to be alone, he happily welcomes the new distraction. Normally, he would find any number of reasons as to why he needs to be excused from a situation like this, but for some reason, he finds himself wanting to stay.

He apologizes for not being a big talker and also explains how he didn’t even want to come tonight but was essentially forced to by some friends.

"Oh trust me, I know the feeling all too well…I’m pretty much playing sober companion tonight so yeaaah. Also, I think I've met a few of your friends. Seems like they’ve taken quite a liking to my girls."

You both laugh at the insinuation and take that as a way to slowly get to know one another. Your small conversation isn't much to write home about, but even through the small awkward silences and rushed stumbling over each other, it still manages to be nice and surprisingly comfortable despite the current situation.

Through one of those lovely bouts of awkward silence, his phone ringing forces him to look away from the side of your face as he apologizes and takes his call.

"Heeyy Nana…yeah, of course, for you? Always…" You turn, facing the railing, attempting to give him a little privacy at the very least, though you can’t help but smile at his words. Because, of course, he’s as handsome as he is, as sweet as he is, AND he loves his nana….sigh, it might just be a setup you fear.

You try not to be TOO nosy, but you catch a few words between their conversation. The biggest thing you catch is her singing the beginnings of Happy Birthday to him. When she finishes, he chuckles timidly, a sound you’re coming to quite enjoy, and he thanks her warmly.

As he finishes his call, he apologizes again, and you shake your head, telling him not to worry.

"Nah, you’re all good…and, uh, happy birthday, by the way…." you say with a small laugh; however, his embarrassed sigh and tense shoulders are enough to make you feel bad about even the possibility of making him feel uncomfortable.

"Sorry! I wasn’t eavesdropping, I swear. Also, I won’t tell anyone….I mean...unless they already know, hence why they forced you to come tonight?" He shakes his head and smiles at you sadly.

"No, you’re good, I promise. Thank you, by the way. But uh, yeah, nah, they don’t know; I’m not too big on birthdays, just another day for me…I guess." He shrugs as he looks back out into the view in front of you both, and though you nod understandingly, it still manages to make your heart feel heavy at his declaration.

You’ve been through your fair share of shit, but no one should be alone on their birthday. And with that thought roaming around in your very overactive brain, you make a choice; you nod to yourself as you turn to face him, grinning.

"Terry…" you call out to him cautiously, trying to seem very casual about your evil (completely well and good-intentioned) little plan.

His face grows warm hearing you say his name, and he doesn’t know what comes over him when he opens his mouth to speak.

"Terrance…you can call me Terrance." You smile shyly and nod.

"Okay, Terrance…" The way it sounds and feels coming out of your mouth makes the smile grow wider on your face. You’re almost embarrassed, and you try and force the feeling down as you finish speaking to him.

"…I am going to do something for you, and it will 1000% change your life, and all you gotta do is say yes to my next question…

So…do you trust me?" You ask him with an unreadable expression. He watches you closely with furrowed eyebrows and quirks one as he answers.

"Uh, y…es?" Causing you to laugh as you nod.

"Good. Follow me." As you make your way downstairs, you hear his heavy footsteps following close behind. Grabbing your jacket from near the front door, you head outside, get into your car, and once Terry is in, you both head off.

"So, uh…something tells me you’re not gonna tell me where we’re going, hm?"

You laugh, throwing your head back slightly, and signal your turn light. Terry watches you closely, something about the way it sounds, how it comes out of your mouth, so genuine, so natural, almost laughing from your full belly makes him smile, wanting to hear more.

"You catch on quick…I like you, I think I’ll keep you around." You turn another corner, sparing him a quick glance, as you keep your eyes on the road, smiling softly.

After about a few more minutes of driving, you pull up to a pharmacy. Once you park, you hop out of the car.

Terry eyes you suspiciously and is confused, but he follows behind you.

"Before you speak…Yes, I know, it’s weird. But it’s also past 2am, and we don’t have a lot of options, so the next best thing it is; now, follow me, young man!" You do a silly march to the sliding doors, walk inside, and head straight towards the snack section.

From behind you, he shakes his head lightly at your silliness and makes a small saluting gesture.

"Sir, yes, sir…." He mumbles as he jogs slightly to catch up with you.

Once he does, you’re standing with a hand on your hip, tapping a foot on the floor, biting the inside of your cheek, and he just stares at you, awaiting your next move.

You stare between him and the generic cupcakes with a furrowed brow as if studying them for a few moments and put a hand out toward them.

"Pick."

He looks at you, beyond confused, and scratches against his forehead as he speaks.

"What?"

You gesture towards the 5 different options in front of you both and tell him once again.

"Pick one…."

It takes him a minute or so, but once he puts two and two together he sighs, laughing quietly to himself. He shakes his head as he awkwardly scratches the back of his neck.

"You know you don’t have to do this, right? When I was telling you earlier, it wasn’t for some sort of pi—"

You hold a hand up, cutting him off as you turn to face him, staring him directly in the eyes.

"Terry- Terrance….it is your 21st birthday. You were already at a shitty house party you were forced to go to, and it is now…

You check your watch.

It's 2:37am, and though extremely sweet, the only person who’s called you is your nana. Not only that, but you said your birthday is "just another day" for you….And because of that, respectfully, I refuse for her call to be the highlight of your day and perhaps even the only thing you looked forward to."

You step closer to him, closing a barely noticeable gap, and bring a hand to his shoulder, grasping at him softly.

"So I need you to turn this off and pick a damn cupcake…please." You say through a laugh, poking at his forehead lightly and stepping back to give him space to make his choice.

He just stares at you for what feels like forever. Initially, you know he needs a moment to recover from you being all in his space like that, especially since you barely know one another, which is starting to make you nervous and feel like you possibly overstepped.

That is, until a corner of his mouth slowly falls upward, into that sweet, calm grin. It's almost like he's trying to suppress a larger smile, and it makes you smile yourself.

Terry thinks about how close you were only a few moments ago. To anyone looking from the outside, the exchange barely lasted more than a minute, but god, it felt like at least 20+ to him. It’s been a long time since he felt so nervous like this around a person, but you weirdly make him feel both on edge and oh-so comfortable at the same time.

He never does much for himself; everything he does is usually for other people. It's not that he minds it, but he honestly cannot remember the last time someone forced him to take time and make a choice just for him. It almost feels like too much responsibility, which is not a phrase in Terry’s vocabulary.

He shakes his head, pushing out a laugh as he recalls your words. "…turn this off, and pick a damn cupcake…" And pick a damn cupcake he did.

"Double chocolate…"

You smile, nodding as you pick it up and hand it to him.

"Great choice." You say as you take some cash out your back pocket, handing it over to him.

"Okay now go pay for that, and I’ll get some candles and stuff and meet you at the car."

He stands back, giving you a small salute, and heads towards the register. You can’t help but laugh to yourself as you go get the remainder of the items, pay, and meet him back at the car.

The way he idly lazes against your car, like it's the most natural thing in the world, makes you laugh. How a person can seem like they just fit in a place they've never been before is beyond you...but you are starting to gather the key to "understanding" Terry is to simply just leave things be, things'll make sense, when they make sense.

"We ready?" His words pull you from your ever-running mind as you unlock the doors for you both.

You hold up the bag of goodies and nod as you look him in the eyes and just barely brush past him to get in the car.

"Mhmm, let us go." he clicks his tongue against his teeth, smiling as he climbs into the car.

You start it up and begin driving, turning on the radio and letting it play low.

The ambiance in the car between you both is almost palpable. He holds the small 4-piece case of cupcakes in his hand on his lap as he squeezes his other hand between the seat and his thigh. His hands are sweaty, and he is embarrassingly overthinking every moment he shares with you.

Though he won’t readily admit it, he already knew who you were on the balcony, he’s seen you around campus, and he most definitely remembered you from your shared 10am art class. He’s never been much of a morning person, but seeing you with a smile every time you strolled in at 9:55 am on the dot, taking your seat, catching up with a few friends from the class, and always bringing along some kind of snack.

It made him wonder what your favorite was if you were more of a sweet or a savory kind of person like him? He hadn’t really ever spoken to you before, but he’s always wanted to.

Shy isn’t necessarily the word someone would use to describe Terry; reserved is more accurate. But you make those things seem so unimportant. You make him want to get closer to you and learn more. So long as it means basking in whatever light you shine, then so be it.

He’s brought back to earth when he feels your hand on his leg. Thus causing a shiver to run along his spine as he looks at your hand, following up your arm and landing at those big and beautiful brown eyes.

"Hey, we’re here…" you say to him softly.

He’s almost too embarrassed to speak, barely mumbling out an apology as he nods. Trying his best not to think about the embarrassing spaced-out look he probably had on his face. Shaking your head, you squeeze his thigh once before letting go.

"All good, come on." You climb out of the car, feeling the cool air against your face. The Overlook has always been one of your favorite places. You give yourself a moment after heading to your trunk as you open it and set a few things up for you both. You look out at the skyline, hoping that Terry will enjoy the view as much as you do. Climbing in the newly set up trunk, you realize Terry still hasn't gotten out of the car yet.

"You coming?" Your words pull him out of his head as he nods and gets out of the car, climbing his long-limbed self into the trunk with you.

"I know it’s not the biggest thing in the world, but it’s either this or sit directly on the ground…look, it was pretty short notice." He laughs, getting comfortable enough, and shakes his head.

"Nah, this is good. Okay, so don’t leave me in suspense. What are we doing out here?" he asks as he takes in the view himself. You watch him closely. He closes his eyes for a moment, taking it all in, breathing in the earthy scent and almost relaxing wholly with you.

You smile brightly, putting a hand out so he can hand over the cupcake pack. He does and watches you as you put things together.

"Ahh, and there comes the fun part." You say, setting it on your lap, taking out the bag from the pharmacy, and setting up the small candle pack. As you try your best to spread the 10 little sticks evenly across the 4 cupcakes, he looks at you softly, taking in your composed nature and the determination in your eyes to ensure everything is perfect. This causes him to smile and chuckle to himself quietly. Someone he barely knows is sitting here trying to make something perfect….for him? What an unusual night. What an even more unusual and unexpected birthday.

“And don- wait…” You light the candles quickly and then smile to yourself, proud of your simple but hard work.

“Okay…now I'm done!” You smile up at him as you hold the case of cupcakes up carefully so as not to put out the candles.

He smiles back at you, shaking his head, probably at your excitement, but his smile is so sweet and soft that you can let it go at once. He leans down to blow out the candles—

“Terrance! Make a wish first nigga…” he looks at you like you have two heads before he rolls his eyes with laugh.

“Are you serious? There’s only 10 candles, and I’m turning 21…you want me to actually make a wish on this?”

Looking at him with a slight glare, you explain- "Well there were only 3's, 5's, 7's, 8's and one pack of 10 left…so either you were gonna be 73, 58 or 10…had to make a judgment call." you say with a shrug.

He laughs, nodding as he understands the cosmic predicament you found yourself in.

"So I'm 10 years old today huh?" he asks with an amused smile, making you nod along to his question.

"Yes, you are turning 10 today, Terrance. Now close your eyes and make a wish…I'll even close my eyes and turn my head away if it makes you feel any better." Though you are joking, Terry is sure that if he asked, you would actually do it. He huffs out a laugh and settles down slightly as he closes his eyes for a few moments and makes his wish.

You use this time to take in his face simply; the only light between you is the candles and just a bit coming from the skyline at the Overlook. You have to physically force your hands to stay put. He almost seems like a painting. You can see his dark circles, probably from a long semester, perhaps from something more. You wish you could help; just lessen the load on his shoulders even if for a little while. You see a small scar on the edge of his left eyebrow, you wonder from what, hoping one day you can hear the story.

He blows out the candles after another minute or so, and when he opens his eyes, you're both just staring at each other. The moment is nerve-wracking but also the most comfortable you have felt in a long time. It's almost a battle of wills to see who will break first, and you feel your stomach turning and your neck growing warm, so you take the initiative, clearing your throat and looking away, setting the case down between you both and taking the blown out candles off and setting them aside. You feel his eyes on you as you clean up a little and take a cupcake out of case, which he does as well.

You both bite into your cupcakes, and after a few moments of chewing, you look at him with a sad chewing smile.

"That is…stal—"

"Yeah…that's stale…"

Nodding along with him, you force the bite down. You look at one another in silence again before you both break out in laughter.

"Well, here's to your 10th birthday, huh?"

His laughs only continue, and it makes you feel proud. Hopefully, it's better than the day he would have had otherwise.

"Best 10th birthday a guy would ask for…" he says as he looks at you softly. You smile, nodding, feeling warm inside and then you remember that you have something else for him.

"Oh! That's not all…we still have one more surprise in store…" he looks at you with furrowed eyebrows, and you look at him with a knowing look. He shakes his head, closing his eyes, causing you to laugh, and you pull the small gift from behind your back, placing it in his lap.

He feels around it and opens his eyes. He immediately looks up at you with a large grin, you can't help but laugh slightly, knowing you may have just hit the mark.

He takes the generic stick on bow off it and looks through the soft leather-bound sketchbook.

"I know, I know…I'm amazing, you don't have to say it… and you are very welcome." Your sarcastic but playful tone causes him to hum in agreement, rolling his eyes.

"…You got this from the pharmacy didn't you? That's why you sent me away to get the cupcakes..." his words cause you to stop dead in your tracks, looking at him with an unreadable expression, blinking slowly.

"The magic…your 10th birthday….yeah, you're ruining it…" Your words cause him to laugh hard, throwing his head back. Once he catches his breath, he looks at you with an apologetic smile as he nods. You aren't even a little serious, but something about watching him be so happy, even in just this moment, makes you think, how in the hell could anyone ever be angry with him? Ever be anything less than nice to him? Do anything less than constantly consider him?

"Okay, okay…I'm sorry— All jokes aside though, thank you forreal, this is dope…thank you." he looks at you so genuinely, and you can feel the honesty and gratefulness pouring off of him, and it's taking a whole lot in you to not just reach forward and feel his warmth against you. You simply nod and try your best to keep your racing heartbeat at bay.

You look at your watch and see it's a little past 3am, and you start cleaning up.

"We should probably start heading back. I promised to get the girls back to campus at a decent hour." He nods understanding, and you both hop back in the front seats and take the drive back to the house.

The ride is quiet but so warm, a thrilling contrast to the crisp air of the late night/early morning. You both steal and sneak glances at one another throughout the ride, but it's all unspoken, and you wouldn't want it any other way.

You catch a long red light when you are down the street from the house, and you look over to a closed-eyed Terry. He seems so much more calm and at ease than he was earlier when you interrupted his time on the balcony. He holds a faint smile on his face, and you can't help but smile yourself as the light turns green and you face the road again, knowing that no matter what happens, this is definitely an experience you will take with you for the rest of your life. You just hope he feels the same.

As you finish checking on the second little munchkin, you leave her door cracked and head back into the kitchen, catching your husband finishing up the dishes from dinner.

You smile to yourself and head over to the large sign made by your 3-year-old twins Elijah and Iliyah, which reads; "HAPPY 31st BIRTHDAY DADDY!!!"

He hears the chair scrape behind him as you step on it to pull it down.

"You can leave it up for a little longer…for Jah and Ili—"

You laugh at his attempt to act nonchalantly as you climb down from the chair and move to put away the remainder of dinner. When you finish, you run your hand along his back as you pass him near the sink; hearing his soft hum in reply to your small touch brings a smile to your face as you head over to the couch, preparing your last gifts for the night.

"Be quick, the night isn't complete yet, Mr. Richmond…" he finishes up the last dishes, drying his hands, and meets you at the couch.

Just as he sits, you finish lighting the last candle. "We finally hit that big 2 1 huh?" He says laughing upon seeing the numbered candles on the cupcakes.

He closes his eyes and makes his wish. Once he blows out the candles, he takes the case from you, passing you a cupcake, as he takes his own.

You both bite into it and share a look.

"Dear god…all these years later and its still fucking terrible." You can't help but laugh as you nod, watching him closely. He looks at you, rather looks through you as he takes your cupcake setting it alongside his on the coffee table.

"Mrs. Richmond, I know there's more…that big ol' brain of yours is always working." You push against his leg playfully and grab your gift from behind a throw pillow, handing it to him.

"Now…when you open it, I know you'll fight the urge to have a stroke…but I need you to know I was as safe and precise as possible. Practically used a surgical hand to get it out— I promise." he looks almost scared as he opens the gift. When he sees it, he's stunned and can't stop himself from looking between you and the framed picture of a sketch he made of the Overlook with you at the edge of it.

This sketch being the first thing he ever drew in the gift you gave him ten years ago.

"It's a pretty important moment in our relationship. It only felt right, plus I know you've been wanting to have more of your old sketches in the new office, so ya know, two birds-one stone…" Your words trail off as he sets the framed sketch next to the pharmacy cupcakes, pulling you into him. He holds you close, kissing your temple, and you enjoy his warmth as usual. You both sit in a comfortable silence as you listen to his soft breathing; it almost lulls you straight to sleep after a long day with the kids preparing for tonight, though the clearing of his throat causes you to open your eyes, giving him all your attention.

"Did I ever tell you what I wished for that night?" You shake your head at his soft words, feeling the rumble of his chuckles against your back.

Once you help your friends into your car—with Terry's help, of course—you get settled in yourself, and he jogs around to the driver's side as you roll down your window.

"Terrance…" he just stares at you with a fond look and god you want to kiss him so badly. You keep a hand on the steering wheel and the other lying against the door with your face resting against your fist, attempting to cover your stupidly embarrassing grin.

"Hmm?" You roll your eyes and shake your head while laughing.

"Oh my god…go in the house!" suppressing your giggle, you purse your lips and nod towards his friend's place.

He bites his lip as he tries to keep his own smile down; you actually feel like hitting him now. He's not being fair in the slightest at this point.

"Am I gonna see you tomorrow, huh?" He tries his best to keep the giddy feeling inside, but he stares at you so closely and sees that adorable smile on your face, no matter how much you try to hide it. Fuck, he needs to kiss you.

"Maybe…I don't know. We'll see…" you say looking at him innocently, shrugging your shoulders.

That's the last straw for him. He looks at you with a face you can barely read, and just as you are about to ask if he's okay, he speaks.

"I really want to kiss you…" You feel your heart stop and while you try and catch your breath, you feel yourself nodding.

You watch as he bends down to meet you at the window; feeling his lips against yours is like nothing you've ever felt. All that overdramatic, sappy storybook stuff that people talk about…unfortunately, it is very much real. Though fortunately for you…you are over the moon. It's him causing it.

He brings a hand to your face, his thumb softly grazing against your cheek and ear, almost pulling you impossibly closer to him, which forces a soft whimper from your throat, procuring a groan of his own.

Hearing a car horn snatches you both from the moment, and you immediately put a hand over your mouth. A moment later, you realize the sound was of your own making.

Forgetting that your hand was even on the wheel, in trying to get yourself closer to Terry, you mistakenly slid against it.

You both look at each other and laugh shyly, trying to keep your eyes off one another while also stealing any glances you can.

"I-- Yeah…I am gonna go. I'm gonna go…" you say, keeping your eyes on the road as you start up your car.

He nods softly, chuckling as he taps the top of your car twice, backing up and giving you space to pull off.

You look at him for another few moments and start pulling off.

"Goodnight, Terrance…" You say softly as you drive off. You watch him from your rearview, and he stands there all the way until you can no longer see him.

"So you got your wish?" you ask him as you turn lightly in his hold, just wanting to look at him, laying your chin against his chest.

He looks down at you, nodding, as he kisses against your nose, temple, and lips.

"Seems like it…"

☋ any and all comments, reblogs and likes are BEYOND appreciated and i shall repay you in my love ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

⇒ headers made by @thecutestgrotto + @strangergraphics

#wonderlustwrites ☋#Terrys Birthday Bash #aaron pierre x black reader #terry richmond x black reader #black fanfic writer #x black reader #aaron pierre x reader #rebel ridge #black fem reader #black fanfiction #black fanfic reader

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morgluvsconnie · 1 year ago

Text

BOUND, c.springer

Chap.1 | tattooartist!connie , short preface! , mild language .

stumbling over your own feet,

you slung the tattoo parlor door open, the bells making loud jingling sounds. you sighed loudly, snatching your heels off and tossing them too the side.

“gesh thishit ahf.” you pointed at your upper forearm with a frown. you couldn’t even see straight, your vision doubling everything in front of you. when it finally cleared, you weren’t surprised to see a tattooed guy with a fluffy buzz cut in front of you, just taking his gloves off.

“huh?”

“you… heard me. i said-”

“is you good?” he squinted and looked you up and down. you didn’t know you were drunk. well, not that drunk. all you knew is that you wanted to get that dumb name removed off of your forearm before you cut it off yourself.

“i don’t wanthis uh… awn meee…” you pointed at your arm.

the guy glanced around the parlor, him being the only one there, and about to close, he didn’t even really know what to do.

“ion do late night walk-ins. my bad ma, you can come back tomorrow.” he shook his head, spinning back around in his chair and taking off his gloves. “and you drunk. ion want you to do nothing you might regret later.”

“i’m not…” you hiccuped. “…drunk. i’m just t-tipsy.”

he just stayed turned around, not even bothering to pay mind to whatever you were talking about.

you stood there with your sleeve up, staring holes into the back of his head. which he felt. he glanced back at you, getting a nice look at your face.

shaking his head and turning back around, leaning back. “ight, wassup? you look bummed, like you been cryin. what else? yo heels…” connie glanced past you, “they on my floor.”

you groaned and got on the tattoo chair. “i just want…” you tried your bed to speak right. “to get this removed.” you stretched your arm out to him. he frowned and scratched his head. “you was dumb enough to come into a tattoo shop, a small one, to think i could remove this? then before that, you was dumb enough to get a dudes name tattooed on you?” he raised an eyebrow.

“it’s a tattoo place, isn’t that… what you supposed to do?” you slightly tilted your head at the guy who just stared at you. “ight, look. I’ll give you this card, and you can come back tomorrow, ‘cus for some reason you came in past closing time. you just call me whenever you wanna make an appointment, since you obviously never been here before.” connie turned, trying to look for something on his table. when he found the card, he tossed it to you and stood up. “you can gone head go.” he waved you off, taking off his black apron, which he was supposed to do a long time ago.

“please, ion want this on my arm. especially for my birthday.” you furrowed your eyebrows and looked at him. then the card. connie. connie stood there for a second, seemingly thinking about what you’d just told him.

he groaned, throwing his head back and rubbing his hands over his face. he looked back at you for a few seconds examining your face.

you were just too pretty.

“fuck. ight man.” he put the apron back on and grabbed black gloves. “what you want? please know what you want. ian sitting here all night.” he mumbled, getting his things ready.

“anything that covers that nigga dumbass name.” you sighed.

“so freestyle.”

“no ion want no tattoo that say freestyle- you know what…?” tipsy ole you. still not sober.

“i- okay. okay.” connie shook his head with a frown. “i know what i wanna do. you want me to draw this shit first so you can see or nah?”

you thought about it for a second.

“just… surprise me.”

connie stared at you for a few seconds.

“shit… i mean… ight.”

Chap.2

#𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚕𝚞𝚟𝚜𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚎₊✩ˎˊ˗#aot connie #connie springer headcanons #connie springer x reader #connie x black y/n #connie springer x black reader #connie x black reader #connie x reader #connie springer #connie x you

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trippinsorrows · 5 months ago

Text

in your hands + three

authors note: ya'll been on me for this, so here it is. hope it lives up to expectations!

need to catch up? read part one HERE and part two HERE.

warnings: fluff and a tiny bit of smut

words: 8k (again, don't ask)

“I don’t know why I’m so nervous,” Solana confesses. “I mean, it’s just….it’s just dinner, ya know?”

Kayden lifts her eyes from Raya who continues to grasp at her ombre braid, staring with all the fascination in her little world. “Seriously?”

Solana frowns. “What?”

“Just a date?” Kayden scoffs and grabs onto Raya who’s suddenly intent on crawling away from her godmother to further explore the apartment that’s essentially her second home. “Sis, need I remind you that man blew your back out and had you speaking six other languages?”

Solana looks away, heat rising to her cheeks. “I didn’t…..I didn’t say all that.”

“You didn’t have to.” A glance at Kayden reveals her knowing smirk. “That walk the next day told me all I needed to know.”

And the blush is increasing. Solana can’t deny it. Roman’s dick is huge, and in the moment, it felt amazing, but her soreness the next day certainly did not. Not enough to not try again if given the opportunity. No….not at all.

“Naw, but forreal, you’re nervous because of this adorable lil’ munchkin right there,” Kayden gestures to Raya who’s given up on her great escape attempt and has settled for one of her toys as a means for passing time. “It is pretty….interesting that he said it was cool for you to bring her.”

Solana has a feeling that interesting is not the word Kayden really wants to use. “You think it’s weird?”

She shakes her head. “Not that. It’s just…..I guess, I’m not used to seeing that,” she admits. “I feel like most men don’t want to give women with kids the time of day.”

Solana nods, adjusting her position on the sofa. “I agree.” She groans and finds herself asking, “should I just cancel?”

Kayden gasps. “Absolutely not! I didn’t say there was anything wrong with it.” Carefully grabbing Raya as she moves to stand up, Solana is reminded, “didn’t you say you really like him?”

“Well, yes, but—”

“And the S-E-X was great?”

The blush deepens, Solana low key grateful for Kayden censoring herself. “Y–yes.”

“And he already knows about my goddaughter and is cool with her? And the nigga rich, too?” She slaps her hand over her mouth, making an ‘I’m sorry’ expression before finishing. “You better not cancel. Just go and see how it goes. Maybe the vibes are off, or maybe you’ve found Raya her new daddy.”

Solana is the one to scoff, laying back on the sofa, staring at the ceiling. “Yeah right.”

One

Solana only has a single regret when it comes to her baby girl, and it’s simply that Raya was not blessed with a father.

An actual father who wanted to be in her life.

If only.

Roman could never be or even want to be that. Of that, she’s sure. He’s rich, handsome, and childless. Why would he ever want to take on the responsibility of a child he didn’t make?

She can fully understand that and doesn’t fault him for it, either.

Can only give him a tremendous amount of credit for being open to seeing where things go with them while just acknowledging that Raya comes first in everything.

He truly seemed fine with it when he took her home and they discussed it just earlier in the week, and he’s seemed fine in all of the text exchanges they’ve had since.

She just….she just needs to, like he said, see where this goes.

If anywhere.

—-----------

Having a best friend like Kayden is useful for so many reasons, including when it comes to situations like this where Solana feels overwhelmed and out of her league.

The two of them, three including Raya who’s being held by her godmother, currently sit outside on the steps of Solana's apartment complex waiting for Roman who’d texted about ten minutes ago that he was on his way.

Ten minutes that have been filled with anxiety and a back and forth dialogue playing out in Solana’s head.

Blowing out a breath, she finds herself seeking reassurance once more. “Are you sure this is a good id—”

“Ladies.”

An instant scowl that’s shared across three sets of faces, including Raya’s.

Solana is almost wishing they’d opted for staying inside her place versus sitting and waiting outside. She should have known it was too risky, too big of a chance of running into the very man standing before her.

Carmelo Hayes. Resident Casanova. A handsome, attractive man, all things considered, compared to some other unfortunate men she’s come across. But, the attraction is dead as soon as he opens his mouth revealing that no one loves Carmelo Hayes as much as Carmelo loves Carmelo Hayes.

He slides his sunglasses down, shooting Solana a wink. “Neighbor.” And then a reluctant glance at Kayden, followed by a lazy murmur of her name and a wide, yet awkward smile to Raya. “Sup, lil bit.”

As she does with most interactions regarding the man, Raya’s scowl deepens as she turns her face into Kayden’s chest.

Kayden snorts, not trying to hide her telling comment, “smart kid.”

Clearing her throat, Solana does her best with the pleasantries. “Hi, Carmelo.”

“What ya’ll sitting out here for?” He leans against the wall, eyes briefly falling to Solana’s chest. “Your car still broke?”

“Is your hairline still uneven?”

“I wasn’t talking to you, Ursula.”

“It is,” Solana cuts in, not in the mood for their back and forth. One drunken night between her best friend and her neighbor that ended in a verbal assault from and on both sides, and these two haven’t seen eye to eye since. A forever feud that’s destined to last the test of time, given the fact it literally happened when they were all still in high school.

Because, of course, the “pretty boy” from high school who never looked her way would one day, someday end up being her neighbor.

Life is just ironic like that.

He makes a sound, offering, “you know I could fix it up for you.”

She has no doubt. Solana has heard that Carmelo, "Melo," is pretty good at what he does at the local car shop, his mechanic work known as some of the best in town. But, she also knows it wouldn't come without an expectation. She knows that his offer definitely involves going through his job for compensation, maybe using his employee discount, and definitely requiring a date to top it all off.

And when hell freezes over will she ever go out with this man. Even if he wasn’t under the impression that he’s God’s gift to women, Raya has never seemed to take to him, her little mouth either shifting to a frown or a scowl. Nothing else.

And her daughter’s response to people in her life, especially men, will always be the number one indicator for who she lets around them.

“I’m working on it,” is all Solana supplies, shifting on the steps as she sees Kayden switch Raya from one hip to another.

Carmelo, forever dedicated, is undeterred by the soft rejection. “Come on, I know you gotta be tired of riding that raggedy ass bus with lil' mama.”

Very much so, but given her options, it’s definitely the better of them. “It gives us more time to bond.”

Because it does. Because holding her baby girl while on the way to work or to drop her off at her mom’s is a sort of one-on-one time that Solana appreciates. Will give the bus credit for that much, at least.

“Why can’t you just take no for an answer?”

“Why can’t you grow your own hair?” Melo sneers. “Been rocking them locs since we was teenagers. It’s time to let shit go.”

“Why can’t you grow a bigger dick?” Kayden counters. Solana’s eyes widen as she focuses on her daughter, oblivious to the inappropriate things being stated but still exposed, nonetheless. “Been bragging about that Vienna sausage since we was kids. Accept you a micro-man, and keep it pushing.”

“Guys,” Solana sighs. Yeah….definitely should have stayed inside. “Please—”

Solana is distracted by the moment her eyes land on a sleek, shiny, black SUV pulling up to the front of the building where they’re all sitting. A fucking Range Rover. Most likely the most expensive thing to ever grace her regular shmegular apartment complex.

And the mesmerized staring continues as the car pulls up in front of the group of them, Solana already knowing who’s about to get out before he does. But even that knowing can’t stop the way her stomach fills with butterflies seeing him step out the car that costs more than some houses.

Butterflies that only intensify when her eyes land on him, an almost slow motion type of experience as he circles around the front of the car, dressed in dark jeans, a dark jacket draped over, of course, a dark shirt. Black sunglasses that he slides up atop his head, revealing warm brown eyes that are focused on her, only to harden when he shifts focus to Melo.

Solana is thoroughly aware of the shift in mood, seeing how Melo straightens his posture, as if that makes a difference. Roman is huge and towers over all of them, Melo included.

Moving off the steps, Solana walks over to Roman, smile growing as she looks up at him. “Hey.”

Her voice seems to break Roman from his unspoken stand-off with Carmelo. Solana does her best to remain calm as he bends down and kisses her. Nothing intense, nothing long, but enough to have her craving his soft lips on hers once more when he pulls away with a small smirk. “Hey, baby.”

Her eyes widen.

Baby.

Lord Jesus, be a fence.

A part of her is unsure if he says it just to fuck with Melo. Another part doesn’t care regardless because being called as such from him, with that deep voice, is enough to have those butterflies fluttering all over.

Kayden clearing her voice drags Solana back down to reality as she focuses on her best friend and daughter. “This is my best friend and Raya’s godmother, Kayden.” Kayden steps closer to avoid Roman having to move, holding Raya with one arm as she offers her hand. Roman introduces himself, followed by his gaze shifting to Raya. “And you already know this one.”

“I do,” he chuckles, eyes softening a bit. “Hi, Raya.”

Raya’s response to Roman is night and day from her response to Melo. She still has her face in Kayden’s chest, but she’s not turned away from the man before her. She’s looking at him with a smile, eyes twinkling with curiosity.

Kayden snorts, loudly exclaiming, “looks like it’s just you, Hayes, that baby Raya doesn’t fuck with.”

“Kayden.”

Roman turns back to Melo with an uninterested expression that contrasts his question. “Who are you?”

“The annoying, irrelevant neighbor.”

Solana feels stressed already, and the outing hasn’t even begun. “Kayden, please.”

“Carmelo Hayes,” he responds, subtly—or not so subtly—rolling his shoulders. “Been knowing them since high school.”

Solana frowns. What is he trying to imply? Certainly not friendship. Carmelo is many things, but someone she considers a friend is not one of them.

“He lives on the first floor,” Solana provides, hoping it’s an indirect but efficient way to clarify his role, per se.

Roman makes a sound, that smirk returning as he rolls his eyes at the shorter man. Focused on her, he asks, “ya’ll ready?”

Solana nods, suddenly appreciative of the opportunity to get out of this situation. She gestures to the car seat sitting on the steps. “Yeah, let me just get this set up.”

Roman moves to open the backdoor as Solana grabs the car seat, securing it in the backseat of one of the nicest cars she’s ever seen, briefly stunned by the screens on the back of the passenger and driver headrest.

“Damn….” Shaking her head, Solana gives a tug on the car seat, ensuring it’s ready before walking over to Kayden. “Come here, baby girl.” Raya is all the willing and wanting as she reaches over, giggling when Solana holds her and kisses her cheek. “Time to go for a ride.”

Raya makes an incoherent sound of excitement as Solana starts to buckle her in, Kayden right by her, speaking in a low voice, “girl, you didn’t say he was that damn fine.” Solana bites down on her bottom lip, watching how Raya also looks around the sleek black and red interior with all the amazement. “Marry him.”

Solana has to roll her eyes at that.

Like that would ever happen.

“Give me her bag,” she requests, Kayden handing over Soraya’s diaper bag. Placing it on the floor in front of Raya, Solana smiles, “ready to go?” Raya claps and wiggles her little legs, making both women laugh.

Turning toward Roman, Kayden playfully elbowing her side, Solana shares. “Ready.”

Roman nods, sliding his sunglasses back down, speaking to Kayden first. “It was nice meeting you.” He moves over to the passenger door, opening it for Solana. She carefully closes Raya’s door, holding back a smile when Kayden makes a sound.

“Oh, the pleasure is all mine,” Kayden responds in that knowing tone, while Solana slides into the seat. Roman makes sure she’s all the way in before closing the door. Out the window, Solana catches the haughty smirk Roman directs toward Melo before circling the front of the car and climbing in.

Solana jumps when Kayden taps on the window. It takes a minute for her to figure out how to roll down the window, but when she does, it’s instant regret. “Just so you know, I have her location as well as a tracker on baby girl’s clothes. Try to kidnap either of them, and I’ll have the FBI on your doorstep before the 6 o’clock news even has a chance to run the story.”

“Kayden!”

While Solana is filled with embarrassment, Roman seems only amused. “Noted,” is all he states before adding, “I’ll have them back at a decent time.”

“What is your definition of decent?”

“Oh my gosh,” Solana scrambles to find the button again, starting to roll up the window. “Goodbye, Kayden.”

Roman only continues to look amused as he asks, right after Kayden calls out another goodbye, “you good?”

“Yeah,” she answers, putting on her seatbelt.

Gaze back on him, she sees him glance at Raya through the rearview mirror. “You want to put something on for her?”

It takes a second for Solana to realize he’s referring to the screens in the backseat. “No, she’s fine. She loves car rides, so all you have to do is start driving, and she’ll be entertained.” A true blessing, as Solana is well aware many babies don’t do well in the car. Not Raya. Raya could spend the rest of her little life riding in a car and be just as content.

“Got it,” he chuckles, starting the car and starting to pull out of the parking lot. “You look good.”

A compliment that has her cheeks tinged pink. “Thanks.” Shifting in her seat, she shares, “I didn’t really—I didn’t really know what to wear.”

Because it’s a date, sure, but it’s a non-traditional date. A sexy dress would be too much, and jeans would be not enough. Thus, her settling on a normal dress, covered with a cardigan and some sandals.

Roman takes his eyes off the road only for a second to give her a quick one over. “You chose well.” The pink deepens as she contemplates returning the compliment when he speaks again, “we gotta stop at the mall before the grocery store. Macy’s, apparently.”

Solana is rightfully confused. “Oh. W–why?”

“Gonna be honest with you, I’m not much of a cook. At all. So, it was only this morning I realized I don’t have any pots and shit for you to cook with. I asked my cousin’s wife where to get that stuff, and she suggested Macy’s.”

His explanation both does and doesn’t make sense. “Roman, you don’t have to go buy anything. I could have just brought some of my pots and pans over.” That would be significantly easier and make a lot more sense, considering it sounds like this man has zero desire to use said pots and pans after today. “Plus, pots can be….expensive.”

Especially at a department store like Macy’s.

At that, he reaches his hand over, placing it on her thigh, giving a light squeeze. “Money is never an issue.” She swallows, partially distracted by his big hand on her leg. It’s such an innocent thing that shouldn’t affect her as much as it does. “Not when you’re with me.”

With him.

She’s not with him though. Not…..not in the traditional sense.

He doesn’t seem to be acting like that though.

“But—”

“Relax.” The deep timbre of his voice is insanely soothing, conjoined with his thumb moving across the material of her dress. “I’ve got this.”

He certainly does, it seems.

—-------

A part of Solana wishes that Roman had given her a heads up about the extra stop, because she might have taken Raya’s stroller. Truthfully, her baby girl is kind of on the smaller side, weighing just about 15lbs, so it’s no issue to carry her around the store. It’s just the wiggly phase Raya is in that has her having to continue to hold Raya’s tiny stuffy, using it to entertain her at times.

Thankfully, Roman is very much to the point, easily asking a sales associate where the cookware is. He walks them over to said section, finding yet another associate—he seems to be good at seeking people out—asking for the “best” set of pots they sell. And at that, Solana’s eyes widen.

“Roman,” she whispers harshly, Raya pulling at the top of her dress, something that seems to put a small smile on his face. “Do you—do you have any idea how expensive a pot collection can be?”

He shrugs, answering calmly as they follow the associate through the section. “No. Don’t care either.”

That only widens her eyes even more. “We’re talking potentially thousands of dollars.”

Again, this man looks so unbothered. “And?” He stops, turning to her with a focused gaze. “Solana, I don’t think you understand how ri—”

“Mama!”

Raya’s interjection pulls the focus from the topic of expensive ass pots and pans to a kids toy someone clearly placed down after deciding to not get it. A musical, interactive teddy bear with floppy pink ears and clothes that’s clearly captured Raya’s attention.

Solana has to hold her daughter a bit tighter as she starts wiggling and whining in an attempt to grab the toy.

“Raya, no,” she scolds lightly, switching her to the other arm to widen the distance. Raya is irritated by that, whining yet again as she pushes on Solana’s chest. “I said no, Mija.”

“No!” She shouts back one of the few words she knows, an expression that makes Roman move to grab the toy, holding it in front of her.

“This what you want?” He asks, smile returning yet again. Raya’s scowl shifts to a wide grin as she grabs for the toy, squeezing the hand which causes kids instrumental music to play. Raya is suddenly a clapping, giggling child, making Solana feel slightly bad as she says to Roman in a low but firm voice.

“Roman, no. I don’t even know how much it is,” Solana argues, very well aware that the price really doesn’t matter, because she truly does not have any extra money to splurge on a toy. On anything, really. Every single dollar is spoken for.

“Doesn’t matter.” Roman shrugs, supplying, “she wants it, so I’ll get it for her.”

Solana’s stomach drops. “Roman, you don’t have to do—”

“Solana, it’s fine. It’s a kid’s toy. Not a big deal,” he says it so casually, taking her by surprise yet again as he starts to pry the stuffy from out of the box, ensuring none of the tiny plastic things are on said stuffed animal. He hands it back to Raya who doesn’t hesitate to grab it, Solana using her hand to help hold it up as a babbling Raya is fully immersed in her latest toy.

His gaze lingers on Soraya with a hint of curiosity and a lot of amusement before he grabs the box and finds where the associate has been silently waiting and watching the whole exchange.

Solana is still trying to process said exchange, still trying to grasp how easily and kindly Roman just acquiesced to the most random of things. But beyond that, how he’s gone along with everything so….easily. No irritation or frustration at having a baby tag along with them, a baby he plans to buy a toy for just because she was getting fussy at not having it.

And now he’s following the associate who’s carrying a box of Viking pots. Solana moves over to him, trying to not think too much into his kindness. “Roman, Viking is an expensive brand.”

“I asked for the best, because that’s what I get. I get what I am, Solana,” he answers. Solana gasps a little when he walks past her, slapping her ass in the process. “Come on.”

Still flustered by it all, she follows wordlessly as he guides them to the register where she learns the damn toy that Raya continues to interact with is freaking $34.00. She’s never paid that much for a toy.

But, that $34.00 is nominal compared to the $3,340.00 that pops up when the 12 piece set of pots are scanned.

“Oh my God.” Her anxiety is spiked at just the thought of Roman dropping that kind of money. Meanwhile, he’s already pulling out his wallet at the total that’s close to $3.700.00. “Roman, please, you don’t—”

He ignores her, handing over his black card without a care in the world, as she tries to not have a panic attack in the middle of this department store.

How rich is this man?

Not even in her dreams can she imagine dropping so much on something that’ll only be used once. Maybe he’ll return them afterwards?

For some reason, though, Roman doesn’t strike her as that type of man. The type to purchase and return before the credit card statement balance updates.

If he even checks that.

“Thank you,” he says, taking the large bag that contains the box of pots as well as the now empty box that Raya’s stuffed animal was in. He looks between mother and daughter, asking, “ready?”

Solana is still silenced by the opulent display before her, only able to nod. Roman stops, however, suddenly turning to her to ask, “what are you going to do with her while you cook?”

That’s an easy answer. “I’m just gonna hold her.”

He looks perplexed. “While you cook?”

Now, it’s Solana’s turn to chuckle. “I’m a single mom, Roman. Multitasking is all I do.”

Because it is. Because she’s more or less mastered the art of holding her daughter while completing a variety of tasks, especially cooking.

If only that worked for the man before her. “Naw.” He shakes his head, motioning for her to follow him in the direction they just came from.

“Wait, what are you doing?” Roman doesn’t answer her, just walks up to the same associate who checked them out and issues a question.

“Where’s the baby section?”

“Roman!”

Her voice is louder than she anticipated but enough to get him to offer a plain explanation. “We’ll just pick up a couple things. Enough so you don’t have to hold her the whole time.” Solana opens her mouth to protest, to explain that what’s not a big deal is her just keeping Raya on her hip. But, he’s already following the associate, thus leaving her rushing to catch up with him.

Realizing Roman is a man who doesn’t seem to take no for an answer when his mind is made up, Solana aims for some level of compromise, pleading, “not a lot, okay?”

His smile is genuine but his eyes twinkle with mischief. "Okay. Not a lot."

—---------

Turns out rich people have very different definitions of “a lot” compared to the rest of society.

Thousands.

By the time they finish not only at Macy’s but the grocery store, Roman has spent close to $4,000.00 dollars. $4,000.00 on a variety of items, many of which are unnecessary, a lot of which are for Raya.

Random toys, a play mat, a high chair, a floor seat, a baby lounger and toys that Raya most certainly doesn’t need, as she has all of that back in Solana’s apartment. Something Solana does her best to explain to Roman, but it seems it goes in one ear and out the other.

A mixture of several emotions, Solana isn’t sure what to make of Roman’s financial kindness and generosity. A part of her wonders if he’s expecting something in return, something she’s not opposed to, per se, but would like to be because they just desire each other in that way versus him using sex as payment.

Though something tells her Roman isn’t that type. Because someone who looks and even fucks like him could get any woman he wanted. She has no doubt about that. He doesn’t need to try to bribe someone like her, a single mother, for sex.

He can get that without even trying from quite literally anyone else.

Thus, that leaves her with the belief that this man might be one of the kindest she’s ever encountered.

And that, she also doesn’t know what to make of.

Walking back into the spacious living room after changing Raya in one of Roman’s bathroom, a bathroom that’s about what and what with her actual apartment, she finds him lounged on the sofa. He’s got one arm resting atop the sofa, phone in the other hand as he focuses on the screen.

Solana quietly steps in, moving to the floor, close to the sofa where he’s lounging but needing to be close to Raya who seems to want to explore every single bit of the massive penthouse despite the makeshift playroom that is Roman’s living room from all the stuff he got her.

Roman is quick to lock his phone, tossing it beside him as he compliments, “dinner was delicious. You can cook your ass off.”

Briefly tearing her eyes from Raya, Solana looks down and pushes some hair behind her ear. “Thank you.” Clearing her throat and pleased to see Raya crawl over to the play may where she starts hitting at the dangling toys, Solana looks back over at Roman and shares, “I love to cook.”

“I can tell.” His gaze is focused solely on her, an intimidating thing in some ways. “How’d you learn?”

“My mom,” she smiles, reflecting and elaborating. “My mom loves to cook too, so it’s just something she taught me and my sister.” Leaning back into the sofa and angling her body more towards him, she adds, “and my Uncle Booker, too. He owns a restaurant out in Georgia, and I’d visit him sometimes during the summer when I was younger, so he taught me how to make soul food, and my mom taught me how to make Mexican food.” The best of both worlds, in many ways. “You really don’t know how to cook? Like, at all?”

“I can do some things,” he says with a shrug. Solana makes a face, prompting him to ask, “what?”

Biting on her lip to hold back an amused smile, she points out, “it didn’t seem like it.” Roman rolls his eyes as she pulls up receipts. “Roman, you couldn’t even crack the eggs.”

“That’s cause they’re too damn small. I have big hands.” She giggles at the almost petulant scowl on his handsome face. “Besides, I have people who do that for me.”

“Cook?”

“Yeah.”

She nods, remembering him mentioning his private chef. Must be nice. “Well, I don’t cook as much as I’d like to, but you’re always welcome to join us for dinner when I do, though I might have to make a bigger portion size.” Because the man has the appetite of a group of middle school boys. Granted, with someone his size, he must have to eat a lot to keep in shape.

A perfect shape.

“Why don’t you?”

“Cook more?”

“Yeah.”

A lot of reasons, only some of which she feels like sharing. “I’m just so busy.” She gestures to Raya who is now holding onto the stuffed bunny that was the first of many purchases by Roman for her. “And this one doesn’t eat much of it anyway, couple on how expensive groceries are, it’s just not worth it, ya know?”

He nods. “Well, you can come over here and cook for me anytime.” She smiles, as his simmering gaze intensifies on her. “Or just come over, period.”

Solana’s voice lowers, her tone slightly teasing. “A foodless visit?”

“I love the food.” Their eyes lock. “But, I like you more.” And the heavens are on her side, because before she can freak out at such a bold statement, overthink what his actions continue to indicate, he changes the subject a bit. “But, I gotta ask…..the neighbor?”

“Carmelo?” Solana can’t even hide the disgust in her face at just the thought of that man. “Absolutely not. Never.” Raya wobbles over to her, Solana pulling her baby girl against her as Raya starts to reach over for yet another toy. “He’s just…..he doesn’t know how to take no for an answer.”

It’s not missed upon Solana how Roman’s disposition shifts into something more serious. “What do you mean?”

She shrugs, gently caressing Raya’s back. “He’s asked me out, directly and indirectly, over the past couple months, and it seems all of my creative ways of telling him no don’t seem to register.” Solana rolls her eyes and shakes her head, adding, “it’s fine though. He’s harmless. Just egotistical.”

Roman doesn’t say anything, but Solana can see it. Can see the wheels in his head turning. “I’m sure he’ll get the hint soon enough.”

If only. “Maybe.” She scoffs, Raya showing and babbling about the toy in her hand. Solana smiles softly, speaking to Roman while watching her daughter. “It’s ironic. He never paid me any attention when we were in high school, and I was on the dance team, so we would travel together sometimes with the basketball team. Never looked twice at me. Now, I’m 26 with a baby, and he won’t leave me alone.”

Something flashes in Roman’s eyes that seems to contrast with the curious nature of his question. “You were a dancer?”

She nods. “Since I was six.”

Roman tilts his head, asking, “do you still do it?”

And, he notices instantly the shift in her demeanor. The way her gaze shifts downward, almost awkwardly. “No,” she finally answers, voice almost sad and distant “Not….not anymore.”

Right away, Roman can sense it, see that there’s a story there. A story that wields some level of hurt and pain. It makes him almost regret even asking anything in the first place.

Solana suddenly gasps and asks, “shit, what time is it?” She doesn’t wait for an answer, pulling out her phone to see the time that reads quarter to 7. “I forgot, I have to make a business call.” She bites on her lip, gaze moving to Raya and then back at him. “Can you watch her right quick? It won’t take long. I prom—”

“Solana, it’s fine,” he assures, nodding in the direction of the terrace. “You can take it out there if you’d like.”

She seems appreciative of both his agreement as well as the offer for privacy. “Thank you.” Solana climbs to her feet, Raya’s little eyes moving to her mom, as she shares, “I’ll be right back, okay?”

Raya doesn’t say anything, just watches Solana walk out of the living room and onto the terrace. It’s only when the doors shut and she’s out of Raya’s view that the baby starts to make noise. “Mama….” It’s a soft exclamation, conjoined with her climbing onto her feet and starting to slowly waddle in that direction.

“Hey,” Roman moves to the edge of the couch, ready to block her path, if need be. “She’s coming back, okay?”

He’s unsure if his words actually provide any sort of comfort or a type of distraction, because Raya is suddenly moving over to grab a book on the floor that came with one of the toys he got her.

His eyes are glued to her, recognizing in being around her for the day how mobile she can be. A normal, expected thing, according to Solana.

Book still in hand, Raya waddles her way over to him, offering said book. “Is that for me?” She makes a loud sound that makes him smile a bit. “Thank you.”

She smiles loud and proud, suddenly looking up at him and reaching her arms up, her next request unmistaken.

Roman tenses a bit, suddenly unsure of himself. For the most part, interactions with Solana’s daughter have been easy, because it’s quite simple to see a kid’s face light up at an item, only for that light to intensify when they receive said item. It was mostly Solana who engaged with her as she sat in the high chair he’d picked up from Macy’s while they (mostly Solana) cooked. And even as she’d made his living room a bit of a playroom, that was mostly just a lot of watching to make sure she didn’t get anything, from both himself and Solana.

However, this is the first time such direct interaction would occur, and he’s mostly taken back how Raya is the one initiating and asking for it.

He’s clearly taking too long, Raya starting to babble and scowl, one little hand hitting his leg. He gives her a look that brings the smile back and has her reaching once more.

Roman chuckles. The kids is definitely determined, that’s for certain.

Pushing against the lingering discomfort, he yields. “Alright.” Roman moves the book to the other side of him and leans down to pick her up, settling her down on one of his thighs. “Better?”

Her answer is another loud sound that’s a mixture of a giggle and shout. It makes his smile widen ever so slightly. Roman’s only experience with kids has been Jey’s wild bunch of offspring and Aniyah, Jimmy and Naomi’s lil comedian of a daughter. But even with that minimal experience, there’s something different about Raya.

She is every bit her mother’s daughter, the spitting image of Solana, but beyond that, she has her mother’s softness and kindness about her. Even at such a young age, her aura is warm and welcoming.

It’s…..different.

Soraya is shifting on his lap, her little head turning until she spots the book and reaches for it.

Roman helps her out, handing it to her, continuing to watch and study how her eyes focus on the book as little fingers pry it open to a random page. She’s then pointing and “talking,” looking up at him.

“What is that?” Roman also points to the drawing, explaining to her, “that’s a dog.” He jumps a bit as she makes another loud sound for no reason. This time, he laughs a little as well. She has so much personality for such a young child. “You like dogs?” No response this time as she tires of said page and starts moving to the rest of them, easily growing bored, eventually knocking the book to the floor.

Roman sucks his teeth, playfully chastising her, “why you gotta be throwing stuff, huh?” Raya’s response is a loud yawn as she looks around, shifting once more on his lap. He moves his hand to her back, providing an extra layer of security as she stands up on his lap. He tenses yet again as she extends her arms, as if reaching and trying to hug him, clearly wanting to be held.

Another moment of uncertainty, because damn, Roman has never felt so out of his league and unsure of himself. Raya sitting on his lap, wanting to sit on his lap is one thing, but her wanting to be traditionally held is another.

It’s been years since he’s held a baby. And while Raya is not a baby baby, she’s still a tiny little thing.

But, it’s when she starts to whine against him that Roman feels almost compelled to comply, moving both arms around her as her little arms go around his neck, her face on his shoulder.

What the fuck?

He’s the last person in the world he’d expect any child to gravitate towards, but this little girl….the way she yawns once more against him and feels so….at ease in his arms…..he doesn’t know what to make of it.

What to make of any of it.

Just knows that he can feel the discomfort on him melting away at the same time he feels the subtle rise and fall of her chest against him.

Almost….almost peaceful.

The sound of footsteps alerts him to Solana’s return. She looks flustered and stressed, but it shifts into an almost look of guilt, as she starts apologizing, “oh my God, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine,” he answers, honestly.

Solana moves over and crouches down in front of them. “She must be getting sleepy. She likes to be held when she’s tired.” Solana is careful in the way she takes Raya into her arms, murmuring something in Spanish and kissing her temple. Gaze back to Roman, she says, almost sadly, “I should get her back home….”

Her statement breaks Roman from this strange mental space finds himself in. Shaking his head, he clears his throat, “yeah, of course.”

Solana offers a small smile, looking around the room. “I can lay her down for a few minutes to clean—”

“Don’t worry about it,” he dismisses. “I can do it when I get back.”

“Roman, no, I can’t just leave this here—”

“Solana, it’s fine,” he interrupts, explaining as she straightens up and he stands from the sofa. He can just move most of the items into one of his guest rooms, but not everything. Roman already knows a couple of the toys Raya would probably want to have at home, especially the teddy bear.

He noticed she seemed to really like that one the most of them all.

“Okay,” Solana finally agrees with a defeated sigh, eyes shifting a bit as she stammers, “do you….do you have something to do later?”

Roman looks at her with a quizzical expression. “No. Why?”

Obvious hesitation, as she nervously licks her lips. “It….it only takes me about half an hour to get her down for bed, so if you want to stick around so we can…..talk, we—we can do that.”

His smirk is unavoidable, Roman already feeling a tightening in his pants at the visual of them talking.

Warm gaze raking in over her body, imagining her naked and wanton on top of him, his reply is an easy one. “We can talk all night, if you want.”

—---------

As Roman sits on the sofa in Solana’s apartment, waiting for her to get Raya down for bed, he finds himself catching up on some work shit that’s transpired while he was spending the day with the mother and daughter duo.

Nothing serious. Nothing his sister and Wise Man couldn’t handle for the time being, though she loathed the vague answer he gave her when she asked why he’d been MIA all day. Not surprising.

Rosalia has always disliked being kept out of the loop.

A necessity though, as Roman wants to keep Solana as far away from that as long as possible.

Raya, too, for that matter.

And in thinking about keeping people away, Roman finds himself sending out a text to one of his good, longtime friends and hitman.

Roman: Carmelo Hayes. Spring Hills apartments. Building 2.

Dean Ambrose: Yo. What ya wanting done?

What Roman wants and what he can realistically have done right now are two different things, because what he’d like is to find this bastard’s apartment himself and be the one to see to it that he never bothers Solana again.

Ever.

Or anyone, for that matter.

But, that’s too risky, too soon. He, himself, can’t make such a bold move.

Not yet, anyway.

So, he’ll have to settle for a simple, or not so simple, beating.

Roman: Fuck him up. Don’t kill him, but something close.

Dean Ambrose: You got it, dude.

Roman chuckles, imagining the childlike excitement in Ambrose's eyes at the chance to act on his sadistic, violent impulses. A true treat for the eccentric man.

The next thing on his list is arranging to have a security detail patrolling Solana's apartment complex at all times. Another trailing her outings to work and elsewhere.

He won't take any risks regarding the safety of mother nor daughter.

Roman also utilizes the time to message his driver, informing him to be ready to come pick him up in two to three hours, because the Tribal Chief has every intention of leaving the keys to the Range Rover in Solana’s apartment.

She doesn’t need to be taking the damn bus. Especially not with Raya. It’s too dangerous.

He’d just pay to get her car repaired for her, but there’s something he likes better about her driving his car. A possessive thing, he might even admit. With good intentions, though.

Always.

“Hey.”

Solana pulls him from his thoughts as well as his focus on the phone in his hand. She’s standing before him with an almost nervous expression.

Roman sits forward, tossing his phone to the side. Beckoning her over with his finger, his eyes don’t leave her as she climbs onto his lap, dress raised as she straddles him. He needs a distraction from the fact that clothes are the only thing keeping that part of him from that part of her. “She sleep?”

Solana nods. “When she’s tired, she taps out pretty quickly.”

That makes sense, Roman thinks. Baby girl was almost entirely knocked out just in the few minutes he held her.

“Roman…..” Her hands move to the bottom of his shirt. “I really did enjoy today. It’s….it’s the nicest day I’ve had in a while.”

He agrees, wholeheartedly, but there’s something underneath said statement. “But?”

She closes her eyes, asking in a small voice. “How is this supposed to work?”

He doesn’t hesitate to seek clarification. “What do you mean?”

She takes a deep breath. “I’m okay with us having sex. I want that, but….it’s hard for me to understand you being so nice and generous to me, and even Raya, and not feel like the sex is….payment of some sort.” Eyes opening, she starts to shake her head, “because if that’s the case—”

“It’s not,” he cuts her off, tone almost hardened as he moves his hands up her back. “Everything I did for you today, for Raya, was because I wanted to. And not because I was expecting anything in return. I told you that before.”

“I wanna believe that, but….” She pushes back some of her hair, further explaining, “it’s just that most men don’t—”

“I’m not most men.” Not even in the slightest. In ways she could probably never fully understand. “But, I am very interested in you. I told you that before, too. That I wanted to see where this goes, and I don’t know about you, but so far, I think it’s going pretty damn well.”

Because, it is. There was something both relaxing and rewarding. Spending the day with her. Even Raya. All so simple and easy, and in a world where everything is usually anything but that for the Mafia Head, he appreciates it.

And doesn’t want to let go.

She doesn’t disagree with him, just continues to be honest. “I guess I also don’t want you to feel like….like I’m using you or something.”

At that, Roman chuckles and moves one hand to her cheek. “Solana, you looked physically sick the whole time we were shopping. You’re the last person I’d ever suspect that from.” Most women would have walked up and down that damn department store trying to get him to buy them any and everything they could get their hands on. Solana was the complete opposite.

Her intentions are pure.

Just like her.

A true unicorn in the life he’s always lived, most of which is why Roman is certain he finds himself so drawn to her.

“It was a lot of money, Roman,” she protests, weakly.

“To you,” he counters. “Solana, money is not something I’ve ever had to worry about and never will, but I recognize that’s not been the case for you.” He also gets the sense it’s a moderate problem for her right now, based upon the fact she can’t even afford to get her car repaired. “So, if you need something, you just have to ask.”

She looks uncomfortable, frowning almost, “Roman—”

“I get it may feel too soon, and I respect that. Just know the offer is there for you.” Roman can see it’ll take time for her to come around and accept his help, that he’ll have to ease his way into things, so he’ll wait for it. Wait for her to come to him when she’s ready. In the meantime, he’ll have to sprinkle little things along the way. “And we don’t have to do anything—”

“No,” she cuts him off, shaking her head and moving her hands up his chest. “I want to. I just…..I just needed to know where we stand and how this is going to work. That’s….that’s all.”

Roman sits up further, pressing her against him as he moves his thumb across her bottom lip. “I told you before, you’re mine. You need something, I got you. You want some dick, I definitely got you there.” Her eyes flutter shut, and Roman smirks feeling the way she’s shifting atop him. “And judging by the look on your face, that second thing is exactly what you wanting right now.”

Solana lays her head on his shoulder as he drops his hand from her face to her ass, squeezing her supple cheeks. “Please…..”

He makes a sound. “First, you gotta tell me when I can see you again.” Roman easily glides his hand from her ass to the side of her thigh, working his way past where the material of her dress is ruffled to the smoothness of her thick thigh. “A week is too damn long….” His mouth moves to her neck as she grasps at the hair at the nape of his neck.

“Roman, I—I work,” she breathes out, shifting once more as he sneaks his hand in between her legs, long fingers teasing her underwear. “Oh, shit.”

“I’m aware,” he chuckles, amused and also turned on by how she wiggles closer to him, eager for his fingers as they slide past the damp cotton of her panties. “And, I don’t care. We gotta figure something out.”

“Roman,” she moans, hands gripping his shoulders as he enters one digit inside her wet, tight cunt. “P–please.”

He works her with his fingers, his mouth sucking on her neck before he asks in the calmest voice, “you gonna let me see you more often?” Finalized with the entering of another digit as she bucks against his hand.

She’s practically in tears, crying out against him, nails pressed into his skin through his shirt. “Yes, fuck, whatever—whatever you want.”

Pleased with her agreement, Roman pulls his hand from her, chuckling when she whines against him. “You work tomorrow?”

His question as well as him stopping altogether have her pulled back and scowling. “No.” Moving once again on his lap, she's clearly feeling the growing erection underneath her. “Why–why’d you stop?”

The answer is simple. “Because I need a bed for everything I want to do to you, and I needed to know how much time I have.”

His answer has her swallowing as she shares in a small voice, “she….she usually sleeps through the night.”

Roman smiles. Music to his fucking ears.

Standing up, holding her up by her ass, he asks, “where’s your bedroom?”

At some point, he’ll have to issue a new text to his driver.

He won’t need them anytime soon.

Or at all, tonight.

#roman reigns x black!oc #roman reigns fanfic #roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns #arisnotebook

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levissslutt · 25 days ago

Text

Mr. Officer pt 2 ;)

It had been a week since Offer Fatu pulled you over, sitting on your bed you held your phone in your hand debating on calling him.

The two of you had been texting about any and everything since that night, casual conversations, getting to know each other, it was refreshing honestly, not having to force a conversation or beg him to talk to you, it just came naturally.

Apart of you wondered if he was only interested in fucking, but then again he really could’ve fucked you that night if he really wanted to, so nonetheless you called him.

One, two, three rings.

“Wassup lil mama.”

His voice came through the phone smooth and deep.

“Hey Officer Fatu.”

He chuckled lightly on the other end.

“Yo ass better stop playing, what you got going on tonight.”

“Not shit that’s why I called you, tryna chill ?”

“Hell yea, what you got in mind ? A movie or sum.”

You shook your head knowing damn well a movie was the last thing y’all was about to do.

“Yea that’s cool, you want to get a bottle too?”

You could hear the smile on his face.

“Now you speaking my language, send yo addy imma be there in a few.”

You spent the next couple of hours straightening up your apartment, because lord knows in guy time “imma be there in a few”, really meant “imma be there prolly by the end of the day or tomorrow.”

A light knock on your door, had you jumping out your skin.

"Of fucking course he would show up and not let me know he was on the way."

Grey sweats hung low on your hips, with a spaghetti strapped tank top, a chill in the house fit, nothing crazy.

When you opened the door his eyes immediately landed on your chest.

"Ian see those before."

Rolling your eyes you pulled him in, shutting the door.

"That's cause I had on a bra."

He raised his eyebrow at you as he kicked his shoes off, " no bra huh."

"Don't be creepy we just chillin...for now."

He grinned wickedly, plopping down on your couch.

"You absolutely right about that."

As the night went on the tension loosened allowing drinks and jokes to flow with ease. The two of you had migrated to the balcony, watching the last of the daylight fade away. Your legs were draped over his, his hands resting on your knees.

"So tell me about that ex of yours, why he had you damn near bout to crash out."

Sighing you cocked your neck in his direction, "he cheated I told you that."

"Yea but why."

You looked at him in disbelief.

"The fuck if I knew, why is the sky blue, why do cars run on gas, why do professors give out assignments and then complain about grading them why the fuck do people cheat on they partners when they could've just left them alone, the world may never know."

His hand lifted, bringing the glass of dark liquid to his lips, his eyes holding a bit too much amusement for your liking.

"Aight then ma, Ian mean it like that, I guess I meant there must have been signs, is there a reason you aint protect yourself and dip?"

You pondered for a second, because he was right, there were signs, too many, and you let them slide, twice, like a fucking idiot.

Your eyes got glossy for a brief second. You sucked them tears right back in your eyes because there was no way in hell you were about to cry over that fuck nigga. His loss.

Josh had noticed the look on your face just briefly, not saying anything, he took another sip of his drink, patiently waiting for you to vent.

He just knew you was something special the second he laid eyes on you. That night he rounded the car fully expecting to be greeted with some cocky white kid, instead there you were, sitting all pretty like you wasn't driving like a hood nigga on the run.

He hated how you look, eyes red and puffy, face streaked with tears, small golden dress hiked up, heels off. He froze for a second he he knew you caught it too. All his morals went out the window the more the two of you interacted.

And now here he was listening to you vent about how some young dude broke your heart.

He had already decided even before coming over to your place that he was going to make you his.

"You was too good for him and he knew it, he did what he could to try and break you down, men do that when we know we lost, we can't have it? No one will."

You nodded, bringing your own glass to your lips. You knew that though, you knew all too well how he was and you allowed him to play you anyways and that's what hurt the most, the disappointment in failing your self.

"But fuck that nigga for real, Imma get over it."

Offcer. Fatu smiled at you.

"There it go."

"Where what go."

"That fire in your eyes, it simmers just beneath the surface. I can see it through the tears, through that mask you got on, I see that shit ma, and Im ready for it."

You stomach flip flopped at his comment. This man was reading you for filth, but in a good way. He shifted eventually pulling you on top of him, bodies facing the city. The night was coming alive, and even though you were up here alone with Josh, you felt the electricity.

His hand roamed your body, holding you close. His hand suddenly, wrapped around the back of your neck, yanking you backwards into his chest and whispered in your ear.

"You have no idea how good you look right now baby."

His free hand slipping past your sweats, he found your clit with ease, expertly moving his fingers up and down. He left small kisses on your shoulder watching the way your body responded to him with hooded eyes.

He brought his fingers up to his mouth to taste you.

"Mhm still as sweet as I remember."

He had complete control over you, jelly in his hands. He wasted no time pulling his hard cock out , teasing your entrance before sinking you down onto it.

You hissed at his size, eyes watering, you had never taken someone this big, and it fucking hurt like hell in the most delicious way.

He took his time moving slow and steady, making sure you were comfortable. With each stroke you relaxed for him more and more, until he found a steady pace he liked, the soft pat of skin was being drawn out by city night below you.

You held on to his forearm as his pace picked up, your body leaning into his.

"You ok baby?"

You nodded, your walls clenching around him. His hands held you under your knees and picked you up.

"Joshh fuck people might see us." You whined out.

"I don't give a fuck, let them, let them see how im fucking this pretty pussy."

Your body was giving away to the pleasure, the man holding you up grunting slightly with each movement. Hips snapping into you at this point. He put you on your feet, hands gripping the railing as he held one leg straight in the air, fucking you into oblivion.

His hand yet again wrapped around your neck.

"All that moaning and Ion hear my name, let yo neighbors know who stopped by tonight."

He was fucking you hard at this point, his pace and grip on you relentless.

"Joshh, you fucking me so good fuckk."

"Uhuh keep talking to me girl I love that shit."

"Fuck fuck fuck Josh don't stop."

A hard slap came down on your rear, as he put your leg down, his hands gripping your hips almost punishingly.

Any person walking by could look up and see you getting railed. And the thought of that almost got you off, almost.

But of course it was Josh in the end, shifting his hips in a way that kissed your g spot perfectly, screaming his name now your walls clenched on him as you came.

Coming completely undone in his hands , but he couldnt get enough, practically fucking you through the rail you were gripping onto.

"This pussy is mine girl, you so wet for me baby gah damn." "You like this shit huh."

You could feel him filling you up, talking himself through his nut.

His hips stuttered once more before flinging you over his shoulder.

"Oh my god put me down, I can walk." You squealed.

He answered with a smack on your ass.

"That's cute, you think Im done witcho ass."

Before you could protest he threw you onto the same couch the night started on, spreading your legs wide and throwing your knees over his shoulder.

His mouth watered like he was looking at a pot of honey, practically drooling.

"Look at this shit, so pretty, so sweet."

He kissed the inside of your thigh, and then the other side before attaching his mouth to your soaked cunt, his hands holding you down by your thighs as he ate you out.

His beard tickling your ass as he continued, enjoying every second.

Your neighbors definitely knew his name now, the way he had you a mess on your own couch, his grills scraping your skin in the best way, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body.

His lips did not leave yours until you came, walls clenching around nothing as he lapped up every bit of you.

He wasted no time, flipping you over on the couch, now resting on your knees, hands on the back of the couch, but Josh had other plans.

"Stay like that for a second pretty girl."

You tried to crane your neck slightly to watch him walk away only for your head to be pushed back into the back of the couch.

"I said fucking stay girl, don't move."

His aggressiveness shocked you, but you obeyed.

You could hear the clinking sound of metal as he returned, it didn't take long for you to realize what was happening, because you soon heard the rapid clicking noise of his cuffs loosening.

"Put your hands behind your back, this what I should've did the other night, but Imma teach yo ass a different lesson, and don't you dare try to run."

Your face was flushed an angry shade of red, not from his words or the fact that he was about to cuff you- it flushed cause you liked it, you didn't want him to stop. You never been handled like this before, it was new territory you've yet to discover and oh boy where you living for every second.

Your face buried in the couch, arms now resting behind your back and Joshua clamped down the cold metal on your wrist. The rapid sound of the clicking was all you could hear, over the faint stereo playing in your room.

"Run and see what happens." He growled.

You weren't about to test him, wasn't like you could move much anyways. Handcuffed like a criminal and he had his left hand on your hip, right wrapped around your neck like jewelry, with his tatted leg propped up on your couch.

He aligned himself with you, sinking in inch by inch.

"Fuck girl this shit- fuck right her is perfect, so fucking wet baby."

His tip kissed your spot almost instantly. He had learned the way your body responded to him that fast.

Your brain was foggy, voice strained and whiney, and he was loving very second of it.

"Officer Im sorry- I won't do it again."

He chuckled darkly, his cock twitched inside of you, his relentless pace not faltering for a second.

"I bet you won't, you fucking slut, letting a cop fuck you like this in yo house, I bet you would've taken me just like this on the side of the road huh?"

His hips glitched, pounding into you like he owed you rent.

Your were certain you'd have bruises left behind because of him, the thought making you even more aroused.

The stubbornness in you wanted to take back just an ounce of control, but how when he had you pinned.

A thought popped into your head, a wicked one that might be a bad one but fuck it, yolo right ?

You leaned forward the best way you could, hooking your feet around his knees, locking him in your grasp. He technically still had control but your actions, had his pace getting sloppy and feral.

"Im finna nut in you- fuck ma - keep playing."

"Please please Josh I need it now."

His hips stuttered, breathe shagged, as he came, deep inside of you, and you felt it. Every bit of him.

As the two of you came down from your high, to your surprise he didn't remove the cuffs but instead flipped you over his shoulder, again, in the direction of your bedroom.

"Finna mark you as mine in every fucking room you got."

By the morning you had came more times than you could remember, body littered in love marks, and he still had not taken off the cuffs. Looking over, you saw the man responsible for it sprawled out on his stomach, one arm and leg hanging off the bed.

You smiled at the sight.

"He tore my ass up from the balcony to my bedroom and got the nerve to be sprawled out in my shit like this."

To your surprise he answered you.

"Girl I was doing all the work, besides I was just resting my eyes."

His voice was full of sleep and deep, rumbling your bones.

"Right right, but uh can you take these cuffs off me now."

"Nah your punishment aint over yet."

It sounded like a threat, but the way you grinned ear to ear had him sitting up in the bed now, eyebrows raised at your expression.

" Fuck you smiling for."

"Well come punish me then Mr. Officer."

Tags: @mselenalovebug @jazzyboo123-blog1 @delightfulobservationsalad @jeyusosqueen @transparentphantomface @tribalhoochie

#jey uso #uceyjucey #big daddy uce #main event jey uso #jey uso imagine #black oc #jey uso one shot #jey uso smut

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ceceswithnopizza · 9 months ago

Note

where that ony story at ho🤨?!?!!!!!

ONY- Party Girl

Ony don’t play about her

Angst comfort, filthy words for smut (I tried sorry if it suck’s) and cursing.

Yall hoes knows what this is.. that Ony fix a I promised idek how long go so…. My bad yall everything be moving fast during the week. Anyhow I don’t like it but here yall go 🎀

I also tried to not use a name so it I used 🎀 and baby but I got tired of that so there’s that.

Ony knew he had a beautiful woman, she was everything he’d ever wanted and he reminded and treated her as such.

Ony wasn’t famous per se but in the city he was very well known by being a club owner, having a string of very popular clubs since he was twenty two, not only did they know him but they knew his girl the one that had been there with him since their junior year of high school. She, herself was known in her own right owning a very popular nail salon and investing in a string of business that were small but growing. She knew she was the shit, smelling good, looking good, and she was nice.

Setting into their club, Ony and his lady hand in hand greeting people and thanking for coming, girls and bottles in the section. Ony took a sip of his water watching his lady enjoy herself with the strippers and weed. Dancing and having all eyes on her.

“Bae I’m going to the bathroom, you okay?” He said looking into her reddened eyes, licking his puffy lips at the sight of her.

“M’good” she sweetly said her accent getting thicker, clearly having a good time. Nodding his head eyes pointed to his security having a few right near there section, before going to relieve himself. Staying in the section when her favorite song came on “wanna be” with glorilla, and Megan the stallion. Singing along with the group girls before her favorite part started to come on, which was Megan’s verse.

Standing up for the viral lyrics “get em’ glo” and “go meg” throwing her ass in a full circle as the girls around her rallied around her cheering her on. It wasn’t until the verse was over when she tried to turn around and sit down did she feel hands on her waist all over her. Quickly realizing she tried to remove the hands but they weren’t budging, starting to get annoyed she tried again.

“Bro let me go!” She projected over the music that was fading out. Security looking over and going over.

“Aye let her go bruh.”

“Mane ain’t nobody hurting her.” The guy said he looked about five’ six/seven at best he had on some distressed bleached jeans the were entirely to small for him and a plain white shirt and some beat up black air forces. He also had some locs that looked like lil Wayne’s and some ill fitting golds.

“Nigga, I don’t want you touching me.” She said looking him up and down with disgust and her high blown feeling sober, just then did Ony come back from the bathroom seeing everything going on. He instantly got mad speeding up his pace and walking over to his girl.

“Who touched you.” He said standing behind his lady with his fists already balled.

“Mane don’t nobody want her ran through ass.” The dusty smacked his teeth looking Ony up and down.

“Boy, you came over here being weird touching on her!” One of the strippers, June said.

“That dusty ass nigga right there.” Baby said and that was all he needed before he sent two quick ones to his jaw and chest before the guy even could put his set up he got hit with a big sucker punch.

“Dammnnnnn”

“Shit”

He was picked up and escorted out, the night had been ruined and now he and baby were going to go home. The ride in the car had been silent leaving baby to feel like she’d done something wrong. “I mean I was twerking and he might’ve thought something else was going on but I know.” She thought. It wasn’t until she felt his bigger hands on her shoulder that she snapped out of her thoughts seeing they were in front of a Waffle House.

“Baby, you wanna’ go in or bring it home and eat it?” He asked his girlfriend then seeing the expression on her face he got out of the car and immediately went over to her side.

“What’s wrong, huh” he softly hummed at her looking her in the eyes knowing that she could crack as say what was wrong.

Sniffling” what happened at the club Ony I didn’t even feel him behind me, I didn’t mean- baby he did that shit in purpose he knew you weren’t paying attention that wasn’t your fault okay?” He asked.

“Okay.”

“Stay here ima get our food and we going home alright pretty girl?” He said scooping her head in his hand knowing it’d make her blush and avoid eye contact.

Getting home and eating there food, baby was sitting on his lap cuddled up watching The Lion king, before she started to move over and get on top of him with his back being on the couch and her thighs being in both sides of his body.

Leaning down into his ears she started kissing up and down on him softly moaning in his ear Ony took his right hand and started to rub up and down her ass just like he knew she liked.

“You like that” he teased stoping when she didn’t replay making a whine leave her lips before she hummed a yes to him. Slowly peeling off her leggings and underwear he kept eye contact as he ate her all around paying extra attention to her clit.

“Oh fuck Ony” she moaned out fucking herself on his face like she knew he loved, struggling to keep eye contact with him.

“Give me that nut baby!” He said before taking his two fingers and slipping into her wet pussy, stuffing her in and out with his thick fingers. His fingers started to speed up and his other hand playing with her clit quickly, she started to feel her balloon starting to well up.

“Ooh fuck daddy I’m coming.” She said chanting before she squirted and came all over his fingers, which he gladly cleaned.

He turned her over on her back with her legs pointing to the sky. He took off his pants and tapped his heavy dick on her pussy.

“Please”

“Please what?” He smirked at her pouting leaning down and pecking her lips.

“Please fuck me daddy.” She begged aching, looking each other deep in the eyes as he slipped in her pussy with his thick, long, and slightly curved dick and started slowly fucking her.

“Stop teasing me.” She said and he sped up just like he had just before taking her off guard before drilling into her quickly. Snapping her eyes shut she started moaning a string of fucks.

“Mhm you like that huh baby you think that lame could do this baby? Fuck you like this?” He said stretching his legs on into couch putting some on his weight in her legs keeping them into position.

“Nooo- he cou.. neva oh fuck daddy.” She stuttered out.

Continuing to pound into her she felt that ballon again. “Ooh fuck daddy I’m coming, I’m coming.” She said making another mess all over his dick slowly down his strokes they flipped over to cowgirl position.

“Ooh fuck baby.” He moaned out as she started ridding him into the sunset. Her smaller hands on his chest as she looking him in the eye bouncing up and down with the help of Ony.

“I love the way you protect me baby, it’s so fucking hot.” She said riding him out.

“I.ldoanythingforyou.” He barely got out Ony was not the type to be quiet during sex he was loud and proud about it.

“Ooh fuck baby just like that im about to cum baby.” He said bouncing her harder on his dick. “Where you want it?” He quickly asked.

“In me please daddy.” She said as she came on him for the third time and he came together with her. Laying down in the coach catching their breaths before going to get cleaned up.

#ony x black reader #aot onyankopon #onyankopon x black reader smut #onyankopon x black reader #aot x black! reader #aot x reader #aot smut #aot x black reader #aot

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alanisstonedd · 1 month ago

Text

caught mid-vibe

cw: fanum x black!reader, slightttt chubby!reader, masturbation [f receiving], pussy eating, raw p in v, toe suckinggg oops exposed, just nasty nasty nasty, dirtay talkin, BIG BOY vibe

an: i’m actually so sick for this nigga i wanna tackle him every time i see him on my screen

you swear you were trying to be patient.

he’d been streaming nonstop this week—events, collabs, a few marathon nights with kai and duke, content deadlines piling up.

and you? you just came off your damn period, hallelu!! howeverrr, it bad been awhile since any action came your way. you were kind of a mess hormones flaring. ovulating. needy.

the everything was making you throb recently. his voice from down the hall. his cologne lingering on the hoodie you were curled up in. the memory of the last time he really touched you.

so you figure… fuck it. just a quick one. you’re grown for fucks sake. you’re a big girl…. you can take care of yourself.

you crawl into his bed, grabbing your phone, nothing on but his hoodie and some panties. you click on twitter, dim the brightness, and slide a hand into your panties — already slick from the two seconds your boyfriend came in to grab his damn headset.

you not gonna go crazy or anything. just a lil relief before he’s done yelling “LOCK THE FUCK IN, CHAT” down the hallway.

but sadly, you don’t even hear the footsteps. and you definitely don’t notice the door swinging open until it’s wayyyy too late.

SLAM.

“YO—baby, you seen my—”, he stops in his tracks. you freeze too. your hand? still between your thighs, phone hanging in the other, just low enough for the screen to be visible.

he stands frozen in the doorway, jaw hanging down like fuckin bugs bunny, eyes locked on your soft brown legs spread across the sheets, hoodie bunched around your hips, panties pushed to the side, glistening pussy on display. you could hear his durag drop.

you blink, lips parted, no clue what the fuck hes about to say, “…bae—”. and then he just smirks. slow. wicked. walks in with a smugness about him and locking the door with a click.

“ooohhh, reallyyyy?”

you scramble upright. too shocked to know whether to apologize or stand on it, “waittttt—i didn’t know you was gonna—”

he creeps closer to the bed, pulling off his headset and tossing it on the chair without so much as a glance. “you was just gon’ start without me, ma?”

you swallow, mouth suddenly dryer than a bitch, a little scared of the look in his eye “i—i didn’t— bae—”

“didn’t what?” he’s muchhh closer now, his big frame dwarfing you over the bed. “didn’t think it mattered? didn’t mean to be laid out in my hoodie, tryna bust a nut like i don’t live here?”

you try to speak, but he’s already grabbing your ankle, and dragging you down the mattress until your ass is at the very edge of the bed.

hes yanking your legs apart, eyes dropping to your bare, slick folds. he can feel the heat coming off you from where hes standing, and its got his heart beating fast as fuck. he groans with his whole chest.

“mm-mm,” he shaking his head, tsking, quickly pulling your panties off the rest of the way. “now I gotta top whatever had you wilin'.”

he kneels. grabs one leg, and drapes it over his shoulder almost too easily. he spits on your pussy like it’s his. then that mf dives TF in, tongue first, and you basically scream — LOUD.

his mouth is so hot, tongue swirling so slow, deep, then fast as hell, like he’s making up for every hour you waited. like he’s fuckin offended you didn’t call for him.

he’s groaning into it. slurping. playin with his food. sucking your clit like a damn vacuum. his hand slips under your hoodie and grabs your soft belly, holding you down while you twitch and shake — moaning like you're possessed.

“mhmm. you ain’t need that video,” he murmurs against your folds. “you needed me.” you groan at that, arching into his mouth, "fuck— i didddd."

you cum so hard you almost lift fully off the mattress, both hands on his braids, pillowy thighs squeezing tight around his head.

but of course he doesn’t stop. he rides your orgasm out with his mouth still locked on you like glue, slurping up every drop, licking your clit like its for him, only letting up when you’re whining and pushing at his forehead.

he stands, grinning. licking his lips, like he only does when the food was too good, pulling his shirt off. “i told yo ass to wait for me.”

you dont even respond, too dazed. legs trembling. still clutching the sheets. then he flips you over, with a strength you ain't even know he has. you're face down. ass all the way up.

your — his — hoodie still on, all twisted at the waist. panties probably slung on his monitor. he drops his sweats justttt enough. you feel his belly brush your back first, that thick, heavy weight of him grinding up against your ass.

“still wet?” he mutters, dragging the head of his dick between your folds. “yeahhh, why wouldn't yo ass be..” he chuckles, sliding in slow and DEEP.

you can't help but sob into the pillow, feeling so stuffed. he moans behind you. “shit… pussy too good. hits the spot.”

his thrusts are heavy, full-body type, all his weight behind them, shaking the bed frame. his hands grip your waist, then slide down to your ass like he can't help it—grabbing, smacking, massaging between thrusts.

you feel his belly slap against your ass with every stroke, shoved up the bed with the force of a fully grown man.

“you needed this dick that bad, huh?” he pants. “couldn’t wait? had to fuck ya’self while i’m right down the hall like i ain’t been dreaming about this pussy all day?”

you try to answer but all you get out is “i— fuckkkkk— m' myGod—”

he pulls you up by the back of the hoodie, and holds you against his chest while still stroking deep into you from behind, his belly clapping up against your booty. he got one hand massaging your tit under the hoodie, rolling your stiff nipple in between his scorching hot hands. the other is around your throat, lips kissing at your jaw.

“y’know i gotchu, right?” he breathes. “anytime. any fucking place.” all the sudden you're completely empty, flipping onto your back. throwin' both legs up on his shoulders. hes folding you in half. “yeah— gotta remind you who this pussy belong to.”

he starts stroking even deeper now. slow but fucking brutal. you’re clawing at the sheets, crying, his belly pressing into yours like a bumper with every thrust, the bed audibly creaking beneath y'all.

he leans down and sucks at your pebbled buds like he needs them,. then hes leaning back up to wrap his lips around your toes. nasty. loud. sloppy. “unnhh— bae—please—i can’t—” completely unable to get more than a few words out around the punching of his dick reaching a place you could never.

“you got it mami—" he moans, pace picking up, practically chasing your pussy up the bed, “yeah— you got it—”. you cum again. he grins like a mad man. blown pupils locked on your face.

“you gon’ try that shit again, ma?” he asks, breathless. “you gon’ lay up in my bed with your hand in your panties while i’m two rooms over?”

you shake your head, still trembling. he laughs, softly nodding his head. “yeah… s' what i fuckin' thought.”. then he's leaning over to put your toes in his mouth some more. nasty. loud. sloppy.

hes slurping like he ain't just had your legs shaking from the deepest dick you’ve ever taken. his eyes flick up while your manicured toes flex against his tongue. you groan, breathless watching his tongue slip in between them.

“oh— i got you moanin’ from that?” he grins against your foot. “you such a nasty girl for me.” he laughs, his free hand smoothing over your sensitive nipples and down over your supple tummy.

you whimper, face flushed, breath ragged. “baby… i swear to God i can’t—”

he laughs. like you actually cracked a joke. “ma,” he pants, tongue still flicking at the tip of your toe, “you ain’t done. not yet at least.”

he drops your legs and slides out. you bite back a sob at the loss of him inside you. but before you can catch your breath—he flips you again. face smushed into the sheets. again.

he grabs a handful of all that ass, spreads you open with both hands, and spits. nasty and thick. it drips right down your folds— you can feel it— right over your clit, and he rubs it in with two thick fingers. slowly. teasing. like he knows hes doing it justtt right.

“wanted it so bad you fuckin' started without me,” he mutters, low. dangerous. “so now i'ma give it to you until you forget what the fuck you was even watchin’.”

he's sliding back in. and fucks you like it’s what he actually came upstairs to do. no build-up, no restraint. just deep, hungry, punishing strokes. clap. clap. clap.

your pussy's queefing around him, your face pressed into the sheets, drooling, tears wetting the pillow. he grabs your arms and pins them behind your back with one hand, the other pressing on the small of your back to arch you deeper.

“you feel that?” he growls. “feel how deep i'm in you? that’s exactly what you was missin’, huh?”. you cry into the mattress, hiccuping from the pressure, cramping somewhere you can't identify.

“say it.” he breathes, drilling you harder.

“i—i needed it, bae, i swear—”

“you need me,” he snarls, leaning down, teeth brushing your ear. “not no video. not no toys. me.” his hands are everywhere, squeezing at your booty, at your tits, tweaking your nipples, running down your back.

you nod frantically. “i need you—i do—”

he grabs your throat from behind, pulls you up again, his body flushed to your back, his stomach heavy and hot against you. he reaches around and starts rubbing your clit again, panting, mouthing at your shoulder.

its not soft. not teasing. its the most purposeful pressure you've ever felt. “you gon’ cum on this dick again,” he breathes, voice hot over your ear. “and you not gon’ stop til i tell you to.”. your moans fall the fuck apart. you’re begging now. pleading with him. that tight coil in your stomach threatening to snap again.

and it does. quick as fuck. you scream his name as you cum so hard your body jerks in his grip. seizing up, legs trembling, whole body wracked.

and his ass still doesn’t pull out. he strokes you through it. rubs you through it, so much pressure on your poor overstimulated clit. your hands scramble for some part of him—anything—to hold onto.

“shit…” he moans, slowing his harsh thrusts just enough to let your brain reboot. “you came so hard you almost ran from me.”

you try to speak. can’t get a word out, still so full, so you just sigh. he grins. “yeah… keep tryna do this shit without me... see how that works out.” he chokes out still fucking thrusting, like his life depends on it. then finally—finally— he cums with a deep, broken growl.

he slams in one last time, buried so deep you swear you feel it in your chest, his belly fitted into the deep arch in your back. you catch your breath as you feel the warmth fill you, and drip out so thick. he leans over, lips brushing your shoulder. still twitching inside you.

“now you're done.”

hope y'all liked this! comments, likes, reblogs and all the rest are much appreciated!!!

xoxo, lana 💋💋💋

#lana.writes 🖍#fanum hcs #fanum fanfiction #fanum x black!reader #fanum x you #fanum x black reader #fanum amp #fanum smut #fanum #fanum tax #fanum x reader #fanum x y/n #amp x black!reader #amp x y/n #amp x you #amp x reader #amp hcs #amp headcannons #amp

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