#black romance writer

[hottq]

[dispatchvampire]

This is all me and I'm stupid excited about it

Have you gotten your copy yet?

Romance! Suspense! Drama! All the juicy Black Friday goodness in one book.

Preorders are available now!

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BS5MLZ6M

#newrelease #newbookrelease #romanticsuspense #booktok #spicybooktok #blackromanceauthor #bipocauthor #romanceauthor #romance #suspense #drama

[ikkyfics]

Midnight Reverie

Sirius Black x f!reader

Summary: “You know what's funny?" His voice is low, drawling, like a secret whispered against your wrist. "What?" Your own voice trembles. "I swear my plan was just to make you sleep." His teeth graze your skin lightly. "But you're not helping, doll."

Warnings: language, est. relationship, suggestive, love bites, no use of y/n, the marauders' reaction when they saw that you spent the night in the boys' dormitory

A/N: sirius' m.list is my oldest draft (from early december), but only now have I dared to do something with it, I hope it didn't turn out too bad <33

Masterlist

Your footsteps on the stone staircase barely make a sound as you climb toward the boys' dormitories in Gryffindor Tower. The castle is drowned in the silence of the early hours, and the only light illuminating your path comes from the weakly dancing flames in the common room fireplace far below.

You've been here before. Many times. The path to him is as familiar as Sirius himself.

Reaching the top of the staircase, you push the door open slowly, slipping into the dark room. The air is thick with the dormitory’s woody scent and something unmistakably his—a mix of leather, smoke, and Sirius.

The other boys sleep deeply, their steady breathing filling the space. But your gaze is drawn to the bed at the far end, where crimson curtains are partially parted, revealing a cascade of black hair spread across the pillow.

Sirius lies on his side, one hand tucked under his face, his breathing slow and deep. The moonlight slipping through the window cracks casts a silver glow over him, highlighting the sharp angles of his face, the soft shadows beneath his closed eyes, the dark hue of his long lashes against his pale skin.

You move closer, soundless, kneeling beside his bed. Your heart pounds in your chest as you lightly trace your fingers over his arm, the tip of your nail grazing the warmth of his skin.

"Sirius..." your voice is barely a whisper.

He stirs, frowning slightly before his eyes slowly flutter open. Sleep-clouded gray meets yours, and a shadow of a smile tugs at his lips.

"Ah," his voice, rough and drowsy, slides through the silence like a secret. "So my imagination has finally materialized into flesh and bone?"

His lazy, slightly teasing tone sends warmth flooding through your chest. You smile softly. "If you're dreaming of me, then your imagination is terribly dull."

Sirius lets out a short chuckle, rolling onto his back and stretching an arm toward you. "Since you're already here, come on."

You don’t hesitate. The bed creaks slightly as you slide in, molding yourself against the warmth of his body. Sirius shifts to make space, pulling the curtains closed around you both with a lazy flick of his wand before murmuring a silencing charm. The world outside disappears.

His arms wrap around you, pulling you against his bare chest. The heat of his skin is comforting, and you can feel the slow, drowsy rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your cheek.

"Couldn't sleep?" he asks, his lips brushing the top of your head.

You shake your head against him, feeling the movement of his smile before you even see it.

"Lucky me, then."

"Why?"

"Because now I have an excuse to do this." His fingers trail idly up your arm, skimming over your shoulder, your neck, until finally threading into your hair. He plays with the strands absentmindedly while his other arm tightens around your waist, as if making sure you won’t slip away.

You sigh, sinking further into him.

Sirius tilts his head, pressing his lips lightly to your forehead for a lingering moment, his breath warm against your skin before he murmurs:

"Want me to tell you a story?"

You lift your face to look at him. "Since when do you tell stories?"

He shrugs, a lazy glint in his eyes. "Since now. I have a very selective and highly demanding audience to entertain."

You laugh softly but nod. "I do."

Sirius thinks for a moment, his gray eyes lost in the shadows of the bed canopy. Then, in a deliberately dramatic tone, he begins:

"Once upon a time, there was a great hunter in the sky. He was strong, invincible, arrogant as hell, but handsome enough to make up for it—"

"This is about Orion, isn’t it?"

"Hey, who’s telling the story here?"

You smile, resting a hand on his chest. "Go on, then."

Sirius clears his throat theatrically. "As I was saying, Orion was a legendary hunter. But he was also a little impulsive—and pissed off powerful people, which, let’s be honest, is a familiar trait."

The implication in his tone doesn’t go unnoticed. You smile against his skin, feeling Sirius's muscles relax beneath your fingers.

"He boasted that he could defeat any beast on Earth," Sirius continues, lowering his voice to a deep whisper. "And the gods, being the bastards they are, didn’t like that. So they sent a scorpion to kill him. And just like that, the invincible hunter fell."

He pauses, his eyes locked onto yours.

"But the gods placed him in the sky," he finishes softly. "A bright constellation, never to be forgotten."

The silence between you is filled only by the sound of your soft breaths and the slow beat of Sirius’s heart under your palm.

"Tragic," you murmur.

Sirius smiles faintly. "All the best stories are."

You watch his face in the dark, the soft fall of his dark hair over his eyes, the strong line of his jaw softened by the dim light. He looks caught between two worlds—one where he is Sirius Black as everyone knows him, and another where it’s just you and the way he melts into you.

You touch his face lightly, letting your thumb graze the curve of his mouth. "If you were a constellation, which one would you be?"

His lips part slightly under your touch, something warm flickering in his gaze.

"If I could choose..." he murmurs, "any one that’s next to you in the sky."

Your heart clenches.

Sirius seems to notice, because he leans in and presses his lips to yours in a slow, lingering kiss, as if trying to trap the feeling of you here, as if trying to make this moment eternal.

And in a way, it is.

The kiss starts soft. The kind of kiss Sirius gives when he wants to savor, when he wants to feel. But there’s something about you—the way your fingers tangle in his hair, the way your body molds against his, the way your lips return to his without a shred of hesitation—that makes him lose his patience.

The sound he makes against your mouth is deep, almost a low, satisfied purr, and then the softness dissolves. His hands tighten on your waist before sliding up your back, pulling you closer. You feel the tension in his muscles beneath your fingers, his breath becoming more uneven against yours.

Sirius kisses like it’s hunger.

And you surrender.

You get carried away.

Your bodies fit together in an almost desperate way, his hands traveling up your neck, into your hair, his fingers firm against your skin, as if he wants to memorize you. He takes your mouth with more insistence now, deepening the kiss in a way that makes it hot, consuming.

When you let out a quiet moan against his lips, Sirius exhales an almost exasperated sigh and flips you over in one swift motion, pinning you beneath him. His weight is comfortable, warm, and you feel every inch of him against you.

Sirius' gray eyes gleam in the dark, intense, hungry. He leans down, brushing the tip of his nose along your jaw, trailing slowly down your neck, letting his breath warm your skin. A shiver runs through you.

"You know what's funny?" His voice is low, drawling, like a secret whispered against your wrist.

"What?" Your own voice trembles.

"I swear my plan was just to make you sleep." His teeth graze your skin lightly. "But you're not helping, doll."

The shiver rolls down your spine even before you feel the first bite.

Sirius presses his mouth to your neck, sucking slowly before biting—not hard enough to hurt, but enough that tomorrow, you’ll see the marks and remember exactly how they got there.

You cling to him, fingers digging into his bare back, feeling the satisfied chuckle he lets out against your collarbone before biting there too, as if he’s claiming you, leaving his signature on your skin.

You feel him smile against your shoulder before he trails his lips up to your jaw, then back to your mouth. The kiss now is slower, more deliberate, as if he’s savoring the effect he has on you.

Then, as abruptly as he started, Sirius stops.

His lips still brush against yours, but he doesn’t push forward. His breathing is fast, just like yours, and for a moment, he just looks at you, his gaze hazy, intense.

The silence between you is thick, full of everything that doesn’t need to be said.

Then, with a sigh, he lets out a low, husky laugh. "If I keep going, you’ll never sleep."

He doesn’t pull away completely, but you feel the weight of his restraint in his shoulders when he closes his eyes for a moment, controlling his breathing.

Your fingers touch his face, tracing the sharp line of his jaw, feeling the tension beneath his warm skin.

Sirius opens his eyes again, and there’s something so devastatingly intense in them that your heart clenches.

He gives you a faint smile, lips still a little swollen. "You’re killing me, you know that?"

You smile back, sliding your arms around his neck. "If it’s any consolation… we’re dying together."

Sirius lets out a short laugh, then kisses your forehead and pulls you against his chest.

"Now sleep, my love." His voice is low, laced with the sleep that’s finally catching up to him.

Sirius' body is a warm shelter against yours, his chest rising and falling steadily as he holds you tightly, but not trapping you. He lazily runs a hand up and down your back, tracing invisible patterns with his fingertips, the touch so tender it makes your heart ache.

"Breathe with me," he murmurs into your hair, his voice still thick with sleep.

You obey, inhaling when he does, exhaling in the same rhythm. His chest vibrates against you when he lets out a contented sigh, and then, in a tone so soft it feels meant just for you, Sirius starts to hum.

The melody is gentle, little more than a low, resonant hum against your ear. He doesn’t sing words, just lets the sound fill the space between you, as if he’s lulling you into a song only he knows.

And it works.

Your muscles slowly relax, your eyes grow heavy, and the last thing you feel before finally slipping into sleep is the warm press of Sirius' lips against your forehead.

Morning arrives lazily, with the sun filtering through the heavy curtains and spreading a golden glow across the room. You're still deeply asleep, nestled against Sirius' chest, while he rests his hand possessively on your back, his fingers lazily curled in the thin fabric of your blouse.

Sirius is awake, but he doesn’t move. He just stays there, watching the way your relaxed face looks even more beautiful in the soft light, the way your breath against his collarbone sends shivers down his skin.

He could stay like this all day.

Unfortunately, the world has other plans. The bed curtain is abruptly yanked aside.

"WHAT THE F—"

"Shhh! For Merlin's sake, James!"

Potter’s shout barely has time to echo through the room before it's interrupted by the urgent whispers of Remus. Sirius narrows his eyes, irritated.

"Fuck off, James, shut up," he grumbles, his voice still thick with sleep.

James raises his hands in surrender, but his eyes are still wide as he stares at the scene before him. Remus just rubs his face, exhausted before the day even begins.

Peter, who has just lifted his head from the pillow, gapes and immediately looks anywhere but at the two of you. "Merlin!" he murmurs, his skin flushing instantly.

Sirius, now burying his head against your neck, lets out a low chuckle. He moves just enough to pull the blanket over his body, not because he wants to hide the marks—he’s actually completely satisfied with how they look—but because he prefers no one else sees them.

James, standing at the foot of the bed with his glasses askew and a scandalized look on his face, points an accusing finger. "Those are marks, Sirius!"

Sirius rolls his eyes. "Do you really have to shout about it? Fuck, she’s still sleeping."

"It’s impressive! You were irresponsible!"

"I was passionate," Sirius corrects, a cheeky smile forming on his lips.

Remus, who’s seen worse, just lets out a sigh. "Can we at least pretend to be adults?"

Sirius shrugs, lazily looking at them before simply pulling you a little closer against him.

"You guys talk too much in the morning," he murmurs, his lips brushing the sensitive skin just below your ear.

James grimaces. "I’m going to puke."

"Then puke outside."

Peter makes a muffled sound, clearly too embarrassed to contribute to the conversation.

Remus, always practical, crosses his arms and watches Sirius with an unreadable look. "You’re a shameless dog."

Sirius grins—a lazy, insolent smile that clearly says no, he definitely isn’t ashamed.

"Guilty," he says, his voice drawling.

James shakes his head, frustrated. "Merlin, Black. Could you at least try to look sorry?"

Sirius just smiles more.

And then, in an absurdly possessive gesture, he lowers his face and places a lazy kiss on your exposed shoulder, as if wanting to make it clear to everyone that yes, the marks are his, and yes, he wears them proudly.

"Now, if you don’t mind," he says, pulling the blanket over both of you and closing his eyes again, "get out of here before I get even more graphic."

James lets out a horrified grunt.

Peter rushes to grab his things and leave.

Remus just sighs, clearly used to this.

And Sirius, satisfied with himself, settles back against you, completely ignoring the chaos he’s caused.

[henneseyhoe]

Sunshine

Aaron Pierre x BLACK!FEM!Reader

ORDER:Coffee (Smut) Tea (Fluff), Strawberry Cheesecake (Hair Pulling) , Jelly Filled Donut (Creampie) , Vanilla Beignet (Blind To Love) and a Brownie (Sunny vs Grumpy) served by Terry Richmond.

SUMMARY: Shitty jobs are made worth it cause pretty, funny girls exist!(ig idk chile)

The Bakery<3

✮✮✮✮

“How the hell do you deal with that?”

Was what people would ask Terry when they saw you two together. You were loud, anyone could hear your laugh from miles away and your smile radiated bright happiness that annoyed most, especially in your field of work. You were enthusiastic about nearly everything, seeing the bright side to dark situations that some just couldn’t bear. Maybe that’s why Terry held onto you the way he did. He even gave you the nickname ’Sunshine’ to show.

Everything that was listed, he indeed was not. He was not happy go lucky, he was not enthusiastic about things he had to do and he definitely wasn’t looking on the bright side, for reasons that could probably be justified.

When he was happy, it was mostly because of you. You were best friends (or he was definitely YOUR best friend) and working together in close proximity made it so much easier for Terry to get use to you. It was hard for Terry not to crack a smile when you were constantly in a good mood, bouncing off the walls. You found the spots in him that were soft and poked at them until he gave in, you learned his humor and kept him laughing when he didn’t want to.

He couldn’t lie, he was growing accustomed to being with you, he could even say he loved having you around (he would probably never say that out loud) . He just couldn’t help but feel a little warmth in his chest when you were near, butterflies in his stomach when you made eye contact with him. Little did he know, you felt the same.

Your heart beat down on your rib cage faster than it was on your first mission. You loved a challenge, and Terry was exactly that, testing your abilities to be professional, dangerous, light on your feet, but also keeping your brand of being the happy person you were.

Whenever Terry came into work, even if it was just to train, you were up in his face cracking jokes like you hadn’t just ran two miles. Of course because he was a rank higher than you, he use to send you on about your way the first few times, a little annoyed with your presence and attitude until realizing he couldn’t get rid of you even if he tried. You were everywhere and the crew was slowly growing a liking to you too.

You were like a leech, as he would describe. A cuddly and cute one, but a leech nonetheless.

Coming up on the date of the official homecoming for soldiers, it was time to head back to your respective states and you offered Terry a day to spend with just the two of you, enjoying the scenery of downtown and all it had to offer..as friends, Which he accepted after a huff (which was obviously faked, his ass was happy you asked) . Somehow, Terry found himself not wanting to leave when night had came. Something he had NEVER felt before, and he hated it. He hated that he knew it was because of you too, nothing else. Hell, he didn’t even like the state he was in, he was ready to go when he landed.

Babysitting a beer in your hand, you two sit close around the fireplace of your apartment, or what was yours till tomorrow.

“Feel like we been here forever” He breaks the silence, sipping on his drink while staring at the flicker of the fire in front of you both.

You shrug.

“It kinda has been? Seven months, two weeks, five days, and 21 hours is a long time!” You nod, Terry giving you a look before stifling out the chuckle he tried so hard not to free. You smile, satisfied at how easy it was to make him laugh now.

“So!…You ready to go home to the missus?”

Terry raises a brow, swallowing the bitter drink in his mouth. “Missus?”

You hum, waiting for an answer, but he never confirmed.

“Yeah. I mean, you never said anything about a wife or a kid, but I just assumed-“

“Never said because I don’t have” He interrupts, laughing. He couldn’t even imagine what about him gave husband. He didn’t wear a ring, on the right finger at least, and he thought the flirting he did confirmed him to be single already..Or what he thought was flirting. The making sure you ate and drank every day and teasing about how many push ups you could do didn’t really connect the dots for you. You were looking for a more forward approach considering he was a blunt man.

“What the hell about me made you think I was married with a kid?”

You laugh along with him to save yourself the embarrassment. Truthfully, you asked on purpose to see if he was single or not. To your surprise, no one had snatched him up yet.

“I-…I don’t know. I just see a nigga like you and just expect it” You respond, the palms of your hands already sweating. Your body was once again defying you, you felt like you were in highschool again.

Terry’s laugh shrunk until it was no more and his eyebrows rose at your statement. “A nigga like me?”

“…Yeah. Ya know…” You trail off, shyly looking away. By now regret had already set in your stomach for bringing up shit and snooping in his business. It would have been easier to search his name in the database and read his files, keeping your stalker shit on the low.

“Hm…Elaborate, sunshine. I wanna know what that mean” He presses, his squinted eyes searching for yours, but you refused to give in and see what may have been rejection.

“Look” You huff, shaking your head. “I just mean…You are a very handsome man, and I expected you to be…spoken for? Can you even say spoken for when talking about a man?”

You both laugh, but tension was still thick in the air, you just didn’t know what kind of tension it would turn to. Whether sexual or awkward tension, your nerves were getting worse by the second.

Terry on the other hand seemed cool as a cucumber, his tongue subtly tracing the rim of his beer bottle as he thought to himself before taking his last drink, finishing the beverage off.

“I don’t think so, but still. I appreciate that…so”

“So…”

He tilts his head. You could see it all from your peripheral view. His strong presence demanded attention from you. It was like that while working and it happened to never change outside of it.

“You aren’t spoken for?” He asks, his shoulder softly bumping yours to pull an answer quicker.

You shake your head, simultaneously setting down your bottle.

“Not since a year ago. Maybe if it was possible to pack a niggas dick with you when you leave for work, it wouldn’t be inside your bestfriend, right?”

“…You shittin’ me?” He leans, almost shocked that anyone would dare to cheat on you. Not only because of the person you were on the inside, but also because you could be classified as a high threat even while ass naked. That’s just the type of woman he wouldn’t cross, even at his rank.

“Nope, deadass”

“Damn..” He mumbles. “Whatever nigga out here silly enough to let little miss sunshine walk the earth without being right behind her need his ass beat. Shit, i’ll do it for you actually”

You giggle. “You’re silly”

“Nah, I’m serious”

Who knew that conversation alone would end with you getting ate out by someone you considered a friend, someone who you looked up to just a little, someone who just admitted he’d fuck somebody up for you…maybe giving it up was justifiable.

On the couch with your legs spread to each side, you forced yourself to open your eyes and bask in reality as Terry began the journey of taking you apart and putting you back together again. He placed soft kisses around your lips and on your clit before he licked long strings from your entrance, then sucked, earning a soft gasp from you.

His hands gripped your thick thighs while holding them apart, his strength not allowing you to hide from him at all. He wanted to taste all you had to offer, his tongue doing all the hard work slithering inside of your warm walls as his nose nudged your clit. You tensed up with every nudge, watching as he freely put his face in it. He made it messy enough to admire when he pulled his mouth off of you, your pussy glistening like he just doused you in oil.

“Look at that, mmm” There was a grumble that came deep from within his throat. His green eyes on you made it so hard not to be bothered even with him not doing anything, your poor clit jumping with excitement as he spread your lips open.

“She happy to see me, huh?”

You moan and nod eagerly, bringing your hand to your mouth to suck on a finger. Terry smiles at that, sharp teeth flashing from under his lips. He just wanted to bite you all over.

“Yeah, I know. When the last time you had some?”

“I-I don’t remember” And you truly couldn’t. Nothing worth remembering.

“Yeah? Imma make sure you remember this shit” He ends off with a bite to your thigh, almost as if he was warning you for what’s to come before he dove back into your heat, slurping up your soaked clit. Your belly was doing summersaults, you could barely contain your volume. It seemed Terry didn’t care about his.

When he ate, he made noise. He moaned, grunted, groaned. He was having just as much fun as you.

Your legs had began to shake the longer he was down there, your hands gripping onto the top of his white tank since that was all you had to hold on to after he practically ripped your oversized shirt off of you beforehand, and you feared ruining the couch if you got to pulling on it.

“Yes, yes, yes! I’m so close” You struggled to keep your eyes on him even with his staring back up at you, low lidded and dark. They beckoned you to stay, but pleasure had came rolling through like natural disaster and wiped all thought from your brain, leaving you a shaking, blubbering mess.

His mouth pulled off of you and his hand moved in place of it, rubbing your clit in tight circles.

“Feel it, baby. Let it happen” He coos as you fight against his hand, thighs closing around his wrist which he just smacked away and kept at it until he felt he was done.

“Stop moving, let that shit happen, baby”

You felt like you were literally about to float to heaven, back arching up off of the couch just to get away from the overstimulation.

“Okay! Fuck!”

He moves his hand and allows you to go through the motions, twitching until that special feeling left your center. “Good job, pretty girl” A kiss from him was placed beside your opened mouth as heavy breathing left you.

He gave you time to recover while undressing himself, items of clothing fluttering to the ground until he was in nothing but his shorts.

Your eyes never left his length as it bobbed out of the bottoms. You hadn’t even noticed there was nothing under the shorts till now..So all of that print you were eyeing was all him. He was nothing little, nothing that you had ever seen before and it almost made you ask if that was all of it, hoping he had added something extra, if possible. You wanted to taste him, to lick up the dribbling precum from his tip and test if you could take him in your mouth first, but Terry desperately wanted to be inside you. You protested, pulling him in and stroking his shaft to solicit him into going your way, but he was stern, nearly completely ignoring your advances and lifting you to your feet.

You yelped, legs wobbly from your first orgasm, but you had no need to worry about falling because you were lifted off of your feet as fast as you got on them.

“D-don’t drop me!”

You begged, holding onto him while he bounced you to catch you in the right position to fuck you good, your legs swinging over his arms and his hands cupping your soft ass.

“I gotchu, baby”

He reassured as he kisses your lips. You could smell and taste yourself all on him, slightly sweet and herbal from the beer. All while sucking on his tongue, you felt the tip of him swipe against your entrance, your heart beating so hard in your chest that you were convinced he could hear it, and it was the same for him. He couldn’t wait to feel you, to be connected in other ways than just conversation and friendship. He longed to know what it would be like, and when he got a taste, there was no turning back from then on. Not that he would want to, anyway.

There was no way you were getting away from him. You were strong, but Terry was strong. The man trained relentlessly and always being on his toes payed off at work and apparently in the bedroom too.

Your thighs ached with a burning sensation as he bounced you on his long dick effortlessly, the tip of him kissing your cervix ever so slightly, but he knew good enough not to hit it dead on, fearing hurting you in the process. You appreciate the thoughtfulness, seeing as you were already losing the part of your brain that made thought out decisions.

“So fucking deep!”

You cried out weakly, nails scratching down his broad shoulders, creating red streaks he’d try to hide with a long sleeve the morning after, the feeling of you still dancing on his tongue as he got dressed. He grunts, palms squeezing the fat of your ass as his pace never seemed to falter. He was determined to get you there. To feel you cum around his dick so hard that the neighbors would wonder if you were hurt, that they would think about calling the cops just to check on you.

“Cmon, baby. You a big girl, take this dick like I know you can” He encouraged you sweetly, voice unshaken and stable as if the ribbon of release in the pit of his stomach wasn’t threatening to come undone, spilling his seed deep inside of you.

It wasn’t long until he decided to change the position and lay you on your stomach instead, a soft pillow placed underneath your hips to make sure you could meet his height and your ass stayed up right for him. Before he entered back into your warmth, he took his time to spread your cheeks and licking up whatever your pussy had started to drip, earning whiny, pathetic mewls from you.

He licked from your clit to the winking rim of your asshole, the tip of his tongue circling around it before going back down to your sensitive bud, teasingly suckling on it softly.

You drooled into your sheets. You knew you looked so damn stupid right now, but you couldn’t help it with how he was turning you every way but loose.

“Taste so fucking good”

He says from behind you, fully standing now with a hand in your silk press and the other laid directly in the middle of your back to help that arch. He didn’t even have to guide his dick into you, you were so wet and open for him already that all he did was wind his hips back to line up with you and push forward.

You could swear your breath was being sucked out of your lungs with each inch he dropped into you. It felt so good that you could almost ignore him pulling on your hair, forcing your head back to meet him for a slow, nasty kiss.

“Fuck- My hair, Terry!” You whined against his plump lips, one of your hands reaching for his wrist, but the tugging only made it worse for you. The sharp stinging in your scalp oddly satisfied something within you, your clit twitching at the newfound feeling.

“Fuck it. I’ll pay for it” He grunts, his teeth tugging at the bottom of your lip.

You both kissed with teeth and all as he fucked you, your ass loudly clapping back on his toned body with every thrust. He felt every motion of it, the waves clashing with his hips so mesmerizing that he couldn’t help but wanna stare.

As he pulled away from your lips, he opted to grab a hold of your throat instead, your moans immediately getting caught.

He made sure to grab you by the part where it was safe to hold, safe enough to where you could still breathe a little, but still got the sensation to feel held.

“Why-“ You managed to choke out, yet you couldn’t finish a sentence.

He cracked an almost cocky smile then moaned out a curse, his dick violently throbbing inside of you and reaching beyond what you thought was gonna be his limit.

“Why what? Spit it out, ma” He teased, his low cut nails almost scratching up the side of your throat when his thrusts got more fluid, the man putting way more wine into every collision.

You began to cry out, him muffling them slightly by letting go of you and pushing your head down into the bed. He only fucked you harder when your arch fell with your hips, your legs giving out as your pussy cried right along with you.

This position had you feeling everything. From the tip of him grazing your gspot to the veins that traveled up his dick and massaged your walls, giving you texture that you never felt before.

Him demanding a word out of you was like speaking to a brick wall. You had already came without warning, now you were just wetting up the sheets with incoherent words spilling from your mouth. He imagined you fucked out under him like this plenty of times before but he never knew it’d feel and look this good.

“Shit! Keep doing that and imma cum” He warns, but that’s exactly what you wanted. You wanted to feel him fill you up to the point you were leaking. You began purposely clenching around him, the first squeeze prompting him to lay a smack on your ass, and the second one making his hips stutter against you. He could feel himself becoming lighter, a swirl of heat blooming in the bottom of his stomach.

“Nut in this pussy, baby. Let me feel it, please” You begged hopelessly, doing your best to keep a good hold on his dick until he released with a loud groan, grinding his hips into your ass. You could feel each and every spurt of his cum being released inside you, warmth and fullness is what laid in the bottom of your belly.

“Mmm, fuck” His hips bucked one last time before he was pulling out with a grunt, large hands gripped on your ass and spreading you apart to see what he had done to you.

“So pretty. Push it out” He demanded, and you abided by it, pushing his cum out of you until you no longer felt full.

✮✮✮✮

💌- I’m criiine, this was supposed to be a headcannon too- LMFAOAOA. and yall wonder why i take so long, lawd. i told yall, i cannot do shit right smh. Anyway! i hope you liked this, homegirl 😭 i also managed to get this out before my first college class so hallelujah! *does ring shout*. also this was the longest smut i wrote in a whiiile lmfao. a whole 3k+ words so yaaay! eb clap for henny and wish her luck on this class 😋

[thecoochiefairy]

𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖈𝖔𝖔𝖈𝖍𝖎𝖊𝖋𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖞

━━ ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚𝑐𝑖𝑛𝑛𝑎𝑚𝑜𝑛 .ᐟ ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚

warnings 𑄽𑄺 18K word count. toji zenin, biker!toji plug!toji, kinda/sorta! third person omniscient pov, black woman, vaginal penetration, a lil bit of angry/rough sex, lil bit of sweet talkin’, hair pulling, squirting, creaming, oral [f] [m], choking, praising, LOTS of dirty talk, condomless sex, overstimulation, edging maybe? kissing, spanking, aggressive toji, lil bit of sweet toji, megumi as a baby, toji as a daddy hehe, minors aren’t welcome!

song to play while listening; 𝑒𝑥𝑐𝑖𝑡𝑒𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡 ; 𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑝𝑝𝑖𝑒 𝑟𝑒𝑑𝑑 & 𝑃𝐴𝑅𝑇𝑌𝑁𝐸𝑋𝑇𝐷𝑂𝑂𝑅

━━ 𝒄𝙤𝒐𝙘𝒉𝙞𝒆𝙛𝒂𝙞𝒓𝙮 𝙩𝒉𝙤𝒖𝙜𝒉𝙩𝒔 .ᐟ now look, i already said this was finna be a long ride, okay. so just enjoy. visuals for fem-character in this fic—✰ ✰ ✰ she listens to brent faiyaz ✰ ✰ ✰ —visuals for toji/vibes for this fic will be @ the bottom, so scroll down before you start! no words, just cuteness, hotness, + my man my man my man! flying away! 🫧🫧🫧🫧🫧

SPIDER-MAN DOODLED WITHIN THE CORNER OF THE PAPER IS WHAT DRAWS HER ATTENTION, immediately recognizing what student it belongs to. She can’t help the small smile that comes along her face as she brings her eyes up to search for him, seeing as his nose is shoved closer to his journal than the actual coloring pencil.

She adored being a Pre-K teacher. Being able to influence the mind of children growing into their own people made her feel like a superhero—It was their giggles, their constant questions, their curiosity. A happiness that no one could replace. But her favorite student in particular was Megumi.

His dark hair that sprawled all around his head, doe-like gray eyes that beamed when something took his interest. He’d always been more quiet, not as interactive with other students, barely joining in during activities or even recess.

He stuck to her like glue, even when he didn’t have anything to say. His nose was within his Spider-Man booklet, drawing pictures with his left hand—she’d be lying if she said she didn’t enjoy the child’s company.

She stood from her desk, passing by her other students that were in different stations within the classroom, coming to the ‘art station,’ as she kneeled down to the table next to Megumi who continued to draw.

“Hey, sweetheart,” she calls softly, “You okay?” Her eyes drift between him and one of her other students within this station, a little girl with pigtails, toffee skin shining under the classroom lights.

“Did you see what Anabel drew?” She asks.

Megumi looked up at her with a small nod, his dark bangs sticking out a little. He glanced at the girl and gave her a kind smile before looking back down to the table. He looked a little tired, but his large eyes were as observant as ever.

"It is very pretty," he mumbled in his timid voice. His small hands still continued to shade in the page he had started, filling in his favorite hero’s color scheme.

She blows out a breath, wishing he had a little more to say as she prods, “It is,” she agrees, looking at Anabel who was extremely talkative, “Hey, Bel’s, did you see Megumi’s picture? He’s really good at drawing.”

Anabel nodded excitedly, her pigtails bouncing. She was a bundle of energy compared to the quiet Megumi, her bubbly personality on full display.

“Mhmm!” she chimed with a giggle, her eyes landing on Megumi’s page as she leaned over, her small hands gripping the side of the table as she gasps, “That’s a pretty picture! Did you draw it all by yourself?”

Megumi’s gaze slowly turned from his page to the girl. Despite his shy nature, she hadn’t seemed pushy like most children often were. He slowly nodded, his eyes meeting hers as she leaned closer to look.

“Yes.. I did it all by myself…” his soft voice mumbled quietly. He was often proud of his drawings, it was his favorite thing to do.

His teacher’s eyes almost brightened. She then tries a different tactic, “How about you show Anabel the drawing of Spider-girl you made? Or maybe, you can make her one?”

The boy’s attention moved back to his picture with a thoughtful expression. He seemed to ponder over the teacher's words, debating on the idea. After a moment of hesitation, he looked up to Anabel, who seemed excited.

“…I can show her my other picture…” he nods his head, going into his desk as he says, “I can make you another Spider-girl one, okay? This one is for my dad,” he tells Anabel, pressing the paper to his chest with his small fingers.

Speaking of the bastard, this was the one person that she didn’t have the opportunity to tell about how amazing Megumi was—his father.

She had been trying to contact Megumi’s father since he’d begun school, his nanny being the person that dropped him off on the first day. When she asked the nanny if there was any particular reason why he never showed up, she shrugged, as if she didn’t have an answer either.

‘He’s a busy man,’ she’d tell her. She didn’t think it was her business to pry, but when she concluded that the reason why Megumi clung to her—even if she didn’t want to admit it to herself— that this need for attention was lacking at home. She proclaimed that whenever his father decided to make his grand entrance by meeting the person Megumi was around more than his nanny, she’d give him a piece of her mind. She just didn’t know that day would be today.

“Thank you, you’re sweet,” she compliments, ruffling his hair. She sees as that makes his cheeks go russet, sliding his picture over to his classmate. As she stands, she looks up to see her co worker coming in to do her usual act of bothering her—which she didn’t mind, she was her friend— a smile upon her face as she sung playfully, “Heyyy Ms. Honey.”

She sighs, giving a soft laugh with a roll to her eyes at the playful call of her last name. She knew there would always be a never-ending joke anytime someone greeted her, always giving a rendition of, ‘Because she’s so sweet,’ waving as she replied, “Hey, Ms. Em.”

“I love your classroom, your kids are like the ultimate palate cleanser,” Ms. Em sighs, “Ready to get out of here?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Ms. Honey exhales, “Did you ever find out what time your class was going to that anti-bullying program?”

“Of course I did, who you’ think I am? Someone who doesn’t do their job?” She chuckled a little before letting out a slightly exaggerated sigh, “Although, I must say, that event is gonna be such a bore…”

“Extremely,” Ms. Honey mutters, looking over her desk for her pen, never noticing as Ms. Em is grinning at the scene behind her.

Ms. Em turns towards her co-worker as she asks, “Is that Megumi…making friends?” She whispers.

She sighs in return, “Trying to. I asked him to show Anabel his drawing, I thought he was gonna faint.”

Ms. Em chuckled at her words, her hands landing on her hips with a slight laugh, “He’s so shy, what a cutie.”

“I just wish he wouldn’t be so afraid to make friends. Everyone in class always wants to talk to him, he’s sweet irregardless. And his drawings, it’s nothing I’ve seen come from a four year old. They’re amazing,” she crosses her arms, “You’d think he’d want the entertainment, he’s an only child. I’m sure that becomes lonely.”

“Speaking of home, any updates on daddy-day -care?” she grins, seeing as Ms. Honey immediately became irritated.

“Girl, don’t make me laugh. I have to go through an interview just to have the nanny tell me he can’t talk. I’ve never spoken to the man directly. And she acts like she’s terrified of him, so I don’t know what to do.”

“Damn, this guy is so busy that he can’t even give you a call or email himself?”

“Not even a letter from a bird,” Ms. Honey retorts, “I asked if he was some CEO with this unattainable free time, the nanny said she only sees him when it’s close to Megumi’s bed time. She doesn’t know what he does for work, she just knows it’s something…illegal,” she whispered the last part.

“Mafia-daddy or assassin, hot,” Ms. Em playfully whispers in return.

The more she explained the situation, the more irritated she felt herself becoming as she thought about it. She truly didn’t feel like it was her place to have anything to say about his fathers job or even the slight abandonment to his child, but as it affected him on a daily basis—and the bastard seemed like a bastard— she cared about Megumi more than a way that a teacher cared about her student, it was a motherly nature that she had for him.

“But seriously, you’re kidding me, right?” Ms. Em raises her eyebrows, “He has to be a business tycoon or something, there’s no way that the time he does have for his kid is almost charitable.”

Ms. Honey shrugs, “Let’s hope for my sake I’ll eventually run into him. Or over him, whichever one I’m successful at first.”

“I’d like to be a fly stuck to the front of that car.”

Ms. Honey laughs, “I’d like to be the one driving the car.”

“That too.”

She feels her stress lightly release from her shoulders as her co-worker makes her feel better. As they both laugh amongst each other, their attention is suddenly taken away to the front of the class, a masculine cologne hitting their nose before the figure meets their eyes. Ms. Honey could’ve choked on her spit.

The silhouette within the doorframe nearly reaches the ceiling. He was… terrifying. It was in all the ways that sent shivers down her spine, also sending throbs in between her thighs. The scar jagged across his lips told her everything she needed to know. Onyx hair, steel gray eyes that had a familiarity she couldn’t pinpoint. Olive toned skin and baby pink lips, her eyes falling to a dark inked skull along the side of his neck, making her nearly want to faint at the sight. His broad shoulders were camouflaged by a sable shirt, tight along his hard torso that almost pulled inwards—that’s just how sculpted he was. More ink scattered along his large arms, dark jeans and hefty boots along his feet. He dropped the motorbike helmet he had within his veined covered palm along the desk by the door, stoic face searching for something, or someone within the room.

She takes a moment to breathe as she hears Ms. Em whisper, “Who in the hell is that?”

“I…don’t know,” Ms. Honey mutters back, still stunned.

He was a sight for sore eyes. As she looked at him, she immediately thought to herself, ’goddamn.’ Jawline as sharp as a knife, body nearly straining against his shirt—just an overall ominous aura, this man was a demon in the flesh. She knew she was staring.

“Uh—I’ll be right back,” Ms. Honey mutters, beginning to make her way over to him.

She didn’t recognize this to be one of her students' parents. As she goes to introduce herself, this time, his eyes are the ones studying her. Her strawberry red hair is pulled into a ponytail that swishes along her mid back, edges perfectly sculpted along her forehead, the rich red contrasting her caramel skin, freckles spruced along her face, nose and lips. Similar to him, she has a large rose blooming within the side of her neck, something he wouldn’t expect for a teacher to have. Her double golden nose rings shine within the light, baby pink long sleeve clinging to her body in a way that should’ve been inappropriate but was only at fault for her genetics—large hips and ass that she could only thank her mother for— blood red skirt flowing down to the floor with white sandals along her feet, orchids clipped to the top of them.

She comes up to him, nervously pulling at her ponytail as she greets, “Good afternoon,” giving a polite smile, straight teeth shining under her brown-lined lips, “I don’t think you have the right classroom, what teacher are you looking for?”

The man’s eyes never wavered from her form as she approached. He was taking in every little detail. How her red hair framed her face, the gold on her nose, how her shirt and skirt clung to her body, her scent, he felt like a dog in heat, wanting to howl as her aroma of cinnamon and vanilla choked up his windpipe. His gaze slowly went down to look at her hips and ass, his expression unreadable, before going back up to her face. He noticed her nervous habit of pulling on her ponytail, as well as the nervous tug on her skirt. She was sexy.

“Nah,” his voice had a rasp, deep baritone crawling to her spine as he replied, “I’m in the right place. You’re Ms. Honey, aren’t you?”

Her eyebrows raise up, “Me? I am. I just— I’m sorry, I don’t recognize you to be one of my students' parents,” she places her hands behind her back, his eyes dropping down to her physique, eyebrow twitching. This definitely wasn’t the time to think about how erotically attractive this man was.

“I’m Megumi’s father, Toji Zenin.”

As it hit her, she muttered, “Oh shit,” fixing her posture as she turned towards her co-worker, “Ms. Em, do you mind getting some of the kids started with dismissal?”

Ms. Em was caught off guard, not expecting to be roped into this situation. She looked between Ms. Honey and the mysterious man with a slightly surprised expression, nodding to her before turning to the children and saying in a convincing tone, “Okay cuties, let’s put away your supplies and go get ready for dismissal, okay?”

She turned back towards the man, “You’re…Megumi’s father…” to which he drops his eyes along her face and replies, “That’s what I just said.”

“Uh—it’s nice to finally meet you!” she takes a deep breath as she gives him another kind smile, placing her hand out.

It feels like an eternity as a hand never comes out to shake hers, her eye almost wants to twitch. Toji looked at her outstretched hand, an unamused expression on his face.

“Yeah,” he grunted.

He stayed leaning against the wall, broad frame nearly bending the doors hinges, his arms still crossed, looking down at her as he stated, “You’re the one with the ‘concerns’ about how I’m raising my fuckin’ kid.”

Okay, so he wasn’t the type to be passive aggressive. Just aggressive-aggresive. She places her tongue on her cheek, raising an eyebrow as she laughs awkwardly in response, “That I am. I’ve been wanting to speak to you for a while, you’re very good at ignoring someone. Now that you’re here, I’d like a sliver of your precious time?”

His jaw clenched as she spoke sarcastically, his eyes narrowing at her tone, “Speak then.”

She wanted to smack him upside the head right then and there. But she kept her composure, looking back to Megumi who giggled absentmindedly with Anabel, wishing she’d been anywhere else but this conversation.

She turned back towards him as she spoke, “Well, Megumi is a really good kid. He’s sweet, polite, and respectful—not sure who I have to thank for that—“ she throws shade, “But the only minor problem I do have out of him is his participation and social skills with other students. He has an issue making friends, and the only thing that keeps his interest is his school work and drawing.”

“You’re upset because the kid isn’t some damn social butterfly like the rest of your class?”

Her eyes squint at him as she pensively disagrees, “No. If you’d let me finish, he draws a lot. It’s essentially his passion. When I ask him what he’s drawing about, or who he’s drawing for, he says it’s for his father. He seems to be seeking your approval, Mr. Zenin. Not that it’s my place to tell you how to be a better father, but I’d give notion that if you were more of a participant in your child’s life, his social skills would bloom just like a social butterfly,” she tilts her head, gritting her teeth to keep from cussing him out.

His large arms go over his chest, a humorless laugh coming from his full lips as he asks, “You got’ kids?”

“No sir, I don’t,” she replied, a shift in her face at the question, yet she remains stoic.

“Then who in the fuck are you to tell me about how to raise mine?”

As she goes to reply, he cuts her off, “ You must be some dumbass, naive idealist who thinks everyone can be a perfect parent with enough love.”

“What I am is somebody telling you to watch your mouth around my students. Quickly,” she raises an eyebrow, voice going lower, “But I absolutely think with enough love and attention to your son, we wouldn’t be having this conversation in the first place, Mr. Zenin.”

He grits his teeth for a moment to hold back a nasty reply, “I don’t need some gentle parenting bullshit spout about how to raise my own son,” he then remembers her threat, “Shut me the fuck up if you’re gonna threaten me. Know I’m not one of those other parents you’re used to—I’m your worst damn nightmare.”

She pulled her face back, raising an eyebrow. Was this motherfucker trying to scare her? Who in the goddamn hell was he talking to?

All of her professionalism went out the window as she sneered, “Come find me in my sleep, then. Nobody’s telling you to do anything. But I’d appreciate the effort of at least faking as if you’re committed to having a goddamn child, rather than clocking out when you don’t feel like being a father.”

“Maybe I ain’t one of those fathers that bakes sugar cookies with my kid and reads him a bedtime story, Ms. Honey, but I’m present. I don’t need your fuckin’ advice.”

“Then double it and pass it to the next person, Mr. Zenin. I literally don’t give a fuck—“

“Ms. Honey, can I take this book home with me?” A sweet voice calls from below, her attention being pulled away by one of her other students. It hits reality that she’s still at work, still standing within her classroom.

She was thankful that her students hadn’t heard this back and forth, but she could see Ms. Em felt the fire coming off of both of them.

She pressed her hand along the child’s cheek, “Yeah, of course, baby boy,” she replied to her student, Oliver, tan skin and bright green eyes giggling excitedly at her, “ Go ‘head.”

When she faces the man again, she realizes that she’d made a damn fool of herself, allowing this man to rile her up in a way that she never was with a student's parent.

She takes a deep breath as she leaves him with, “I’ll go get Megumi.”

Toji’s anger had simmered at the interruption. Even he wasn’t heartless enough to continue the argument with a child present. He watched as she went and spoke to her other students in her softest voice, almost admiring the way her face changed as she interacted gently. It nearly made him forget how fucking irritating her adamance was.

As she comes over to Megumi, she squats back down as she sighs, “Hey, handsome. Look who’s here,” she speaks softly to him, running his hair out of his face with a soft smile.

Megumi looked up from his drawing, his face lighting up slightly when he saw his father. He was surprised that he was the one to pick him up, but he felt happy to see him.

He set down his crayon and immediately started to pack up his things, almost saying to hell with his backpack as he ran towards his father, Toji grunting with a soft chuckle as he caught him within his arms. The man’s entire physique softened as Megumi acknowledged him.

“You wanna leave some of your snacks here for recess tomorrow?” She asks him, happy at how elated he was to see his father. She was glad it wasn’t another response, otherwise she would’ve actually crashed out on this man.

Megumi thought for a moment before smiling and nodded gently in agreement. Her words reminded him that he did forget his snacks at his desk, but if he was to take them home now, he would eat them all before morning came.

He looked up at his father, who was still holding him and he pointed over to the desk. “Can I grab my snacks…?” he asked in a shy voice.

“Go ‘head,” he replies even softer than Megumi asked, running his hands over his hair as he pressed a kiss to his child’s forehead, letting him run back over to his chair.

Megumi grabs his snacks from the table as he begins to take them to the classroom fridge, placing them where his name is taped on the shelf. Ms. Honey was now intentionally avoiding her gaze along Toji, taking a breath as she clasps her palms together, “I didn’t hear the clean-up song while Ms. Em instructed dismissal time!” causing the entire class to recite the tune they’d come up with, packing up their last bit of things into their backpacks.

She hadn’t noticed as Toji’s eyes dropped down to her ass, never in doubt of this woman’s attractiveness irregardless of their debacle. Maybe if he fucked that stick out of her ass, she wouldn’t have room for another one.

Once she makes sure he has all of his things together, she lets out a breath as she exhales, “Okay, Megumi—“ a shriek from her own mouth interrupting her sentence as he swiftly dropped his backpack, tightly wrapping his arms around her lower half.

She can’t help her small giggle, hugging him back as she speaks softly, “I’ll see you tomorrow, Meg. Promise I’m not gonna run away.”

Megumi smiled up at her as she hugged him back, enjoying her soft giggles as he clung onto her. He nodded and pulled away, reaching down to grab his backpack as he waved, “Bye-bye! See you tomorrow,” gripping his small hand within Toji’s larger one.

As she watched him grab Toji's hand, their entire argument recited in her head. The guilt immediately hit her chest, wishing it would’ve been more productive conversation. On the other hand, he was still an ass, and she didn’t necessarily feel like she wanted to apologize—yet.

She gave Toji one more glance before she turned her attention back to the class, leaving the conversation exactly where it was before as he and his son left the classroom. There was nothing to say.

Once the entire class cleared out, she could tell Ms. Em wanted to practically explode, holding her mouth up until the kids were gone.

“And uh, what the hell was that?!” she exclaims in a whisper-yell, her tone full of curiosity.

“Girl,” she sits along her desk, crossing her arms, “I almost killed that bastard. Did you hear our conversation?”

“I would’ve heard him swallow if I was listening any harder. Goddam, the tension in here felt like it was ready to explode. I was afraid a chair was going to catch fire or somethin’!”

“Funny,” Ms. Honey rolls her eyes, “I can’t believe him. Getting mad because you don’t spend time with your son?”

“The audacity to try and argue with you about his terrible parenting. And the damn gall to walk into this classroom and act as if you’re the one in the wrong!” she pauses for a moment, raising an eyebrow, “Although, you should’ve seen his face from my perspective. It was like he was trying not to smile or something, I swear,” she teased in a sly tone.

Ms. Honey twists her face, “I hope you’re not trying to insinuate something in that big ass head of yours. It doesn’t matter how hot he was, still doesn’t not make him a bastard, Em’.”

Ms. Em sighs, laying herself on her friends desk as she dreamily sighs, “Come onnnn, you can’t argue that the man wasn’t attractive as hell. That scar, those muscles, that height…” she trails off, looking back at Ms. Honey with a smirk, “Ugh, I could moan right now. And he rides a damn motorcycle? My cervix hurts. Maybe you should give him a chance. You might be able to get him to change his ways,” she presses her hands to her chest.

“What Disney song are you about to start singing?” Ms. Honey raises her eyes, her co-worker raising her middle finger to her as she retorts, “If you don’t want him, I’ll put his ass on a leash, quickly!”

“I’ll meet you at Pet-Smart to buy his food then.”

Ms. Em rolls her eyes, “You're getting bitchy. That’s my cue to exit stage left!” She begins walking out, dramatically swaying her hips, “I feen for a good enemy to lovers trope. Call me when you wanna go to Pet-Smart!”

Being left alone with the classroom allows her to let out a big exhale, wishing the conversation hadn’t gone so left. She was simmering on this thought as she sat at her desk going through her students homework, a FaceTime call interrupting her work. She sees the familiar picture of her best friend, answering as she continues looking at the papers, “Yes, Ezra?”

Ezra groans dramatically as his face appears on her screen, brown skin and emerald green hair appearing as he draws out her first name, “Ah—sigh—yelll, I’m boooooreeeed,” pouting like a child.

“Bored? Don’t you have that car show to go to later?” Asael looks over the camera, “Or have a little sneaky-link to…link with?”

Ezra rolls his eyes, “That last man was a lil’ hookup. He’s not really my type. Besides, I have a new toy to play with,” he responds slyly, letting out a sigh, “But, that’s actually what I called you for, the car show is tomorrow night—and you’re coming with me.”

Asael frowns to the camera, “Says who?”

“Me, that’s who. You haven’t been out in a hot minute, you just need to let loose and relax, maybe find a sexy biker to swipe your little abstinence card,” he replies with a small giggle, ignoring the glare she sends through the camera.

“It’s celibacy, smart one. And I just haven’t…found anyone that truly arouses me, I’d rather be in isolation than have meaningless sex,” she shrugs.

“Almost a year of no dick is insane. You have a strong sense of mind and body,” Ezra shakes his head.

“My dick doesn’t have a mouth to get on my nerves, and only complains when I need to change its batteries,” she shrugs, “But as far as your plans, I’m good on that. Not in the mood to watch a bunch of guys do donuts in a parking lot for hours.”

Ezra rolls his eyes at her words, letting out a scoff, “Come on, it’s not going to be just guys doing donuts. There’s going to be live music, food, hot guys, oh, and hot guys again! My man’s gonna be there with his lil’ fire ass retro car.”

She hadn’t done anything with her last couple of weekends but cuddled in the bed with her cat, grading papers and overworking herself until all she wanted to do was sleep. She figured that flirting with a couple of guys with nice cars wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world, and maybe would be a great start to her weeknd.

She tilts her head, humming as she thinks over the proposal, “Mmm, food truck food, hot guys with hot cars. Doesn’t sound too bad now that I think about it.”

“See, I knew you’d agree with me in the end. Ezra’s always right!”

She sighs, “I need an outing after the day I just had,” she admits more to herself.

Ezra’s eyebrows shot up with curiosity, “Oh? And why is that? Was someone mean to my bestie? Whose feet do I need to tie bricks to and throw them in the nearest ocean?”

“Yes, actually!” She exclaims, “Remember my student Megumi? The one I always send you pictures of? Super cutie with bad social skills?”

“That sweet lil’ kid who looks like he could kill with a single look?”

“Yeah, well I met his father. After playing telephone with the nanny I finally got a hold of Ghostface, and he ripped my ass to shreds. Told me it wasn’t my business how he raised his son,” she briefly explains, not wanting to piss herself off all over again.

Ezra’s jaw practically hits the floor as he processes her words, “You’re lying, who the hell does he think he is? The goddamn pope?”

“Did I mention the bastard is the hottest fucker you’ve ever seen?” She adds on, seeing Ezra’s jaw drop down to the core of the earth, Asael nodding as she laughs humorlessly, “Yeah. It gets worse. Motherfucker could put a nun out of commission.”

“And he ate you up that bad?”

“Chewed me up and spit me out. He literally came in on ten! He was not playing with me. Although I snapped his ass right back up, I’m starting to feel like it wasn’t my business,” she sighs, “But you know how I feel about Megumi…I’m just afraid that the lack of attention will cause him to change.”

“Damn. Megumi’s a sweet kid. He doesn’t deserve to be neglected by his own father, no matter how hot the man is,” Ezra shakes his head.

“I feel bad. I want to apologize—but the bitch doesn’t even deserve that,” she leans along her chair, rubbing a hand over her hair as she groans, half covering her mouth as she quietly admits, “He had a fuckin’ neck tat, Ezra! I wanted to lick him,” She admits, hearing as Ezra laughs at that.

“Can’t believe you didn’t snap a picture with your eyes and mind transfer it to me. You don’t love me forreal,” he smacks his lips, “But seriously, if he comes back to pick him up tomorrow, just take off your huge ass prideful panties and apologize. If he starts tripping, I’ll pop up and pop his ass.”

“Are you tryna’ get me fired? Or arrested? Don’t be funny,” she frowns, “I’ll just apologize and hope he isn’t on some extra shit. But if I call you, just know you will get the opportunity to slash someone’s tires.”

“I’ve been waiting all my life for this moment,” Ezra fake-cries into the phone, “I can finally shine!”

Asael softly laughs, rolling her eyes as she says, “I gotta finish these papers, just meet me at my place by the time I’m off work tomorrow.”

“Noted. One more thing?”

“Yeah?”

“If you don’t want him, can I have Ghostface? I promise imma’ answer the phone.”

“Ezra, get the fuck off my phone.”

“Muah! Bye!”

˚. ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊ࠢ࠘𐡏~♡ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

WHEN THE NEXT DAY COMES, Asael becomes antsy, glad for it to be Friday, but not glad that she admittedly has some apologizing to do. She knew that an apology was in order for her as well, but she wasn’t necessarily holding her breath on that one—especially when the person who picked up Megumi was the nanny and not Toji.

She knew it was now the weekend and that meant leaving behind issues at work, but she couldn’t help being the emotional person she was, constantly stressing on issues she wished she could immediately smooth over. She now stood within the full body mirror in her bedroom, eyeing herself as she was her own constant critic.

Her strawberry hair flowed around her face in layers, falling to her mid back. She wore a black mini skirt, the bottom of her ass poking out as paired it with thinly strapped matching heels, black baby tee and her red hello kitty purse. She leaned within the mirror as she lined her lips with brown liner, fluffy cat-eye lashes hanging above her previously darkened water line.

Ezra came behind her, playfully whistling, “So you are tryna’ get that card swiped tonight, huh?”

“Can I just be a girl that wants to be sexy, not because of a man?”

Ezra smirks as he tilts his head, seeing as she then mutters, “If he’ fine, then maybe.”

“Mhm, whatever. You’ ready to go?”

“Not as ready as you, you’ ready to see your man?” She teases.

Ezra leans within the wall, dreamily sighing, “I’m ready to do bad things to him. Let’s go!” He nearly drags her out of the house, preparing for an eventful night.

As they pull into function, cars line down the lot, motorbikes also grumbling along the ground as they model next to the customized vehicles. The air smells of gas, people taking pictures or showing off their most prized possessions, men and women all talking amongst each other, feeling the thrive of energy.

Asael looks around in excitement as they arrive at the car show, taking in the sight of the various vehicles and the crowd of people buzzing with excitement. From a pink Kuromi styled suped-up motorbike, to a black and white BMW E-30, tires screech under smoke as the vehicle takes off, swiveling around the parking lot almost like a video game.

They step back as cars fly past them, excited yells whooshing into the air. It’s a chaotic scene in the best way. Asael has a warm smile come to her face, feeling as if it's been a while since she’s enjoyed herself like this.

“Daddy!”

She turns as Ezra squeals, wrapping his arms around a taller man that chuckles, low waves along his head, brown skin almost matching the sweatshirt he wears. A bright smile comes to his face as he pulls Ezra into a hug, kissing his lips as he mutters within his ear.

“This is Cam,” Ezra grins against his mouth, Asael giving a soft smile as she greets, “Asael. Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too,” he chuckles, “I don’t know too many girls that are into shit like this.”

She shakes her head, “To tell you the truth, I’m terrified of motorbikes and extremely loud cars, but they’re cool to look at, I’m just here for the ride. No pun intended.”

Cam replies amusingly, “Well by all means, you can always just chill by my car. It’s the ‘79 dodge charger.”

She takes a deep breath, nodding her head as she hides the jump her body wants to make every time someone loudly revs their engine. It’s not that she was afraid, her mind just thought of the worst when seeing these vehicles and bikes mindlessly racing one another, the fear of being hurt more concerning to her than anything—that definitely came from being around kids all day.

When she looks to his car again, seeing the multicolored headlights, she then compliments, “It’s fire as fuck, Cam. My chest hurts just thinking about how much you spent on customizing it.”

He sighs, “It was fasho’ a splurge, but the shit was worth every penny. She purrs like a kitten when she's revved up."

Ezra lets out a scoff as he rolls his eyes, “Yeah, yeah. Keep bragging about your car like it's your new boyfriend or something."

“How do you know I wasn’t talking about you?” Cam replies, wrapping his hands around Ezra’s waist, tugging him forward. They both laugh as they pull themselves into a kiss, and for the first time, Asael feels like the third wheel. Times like these made her wish she did have someone to romantically entertain, it made her feel a little lonely.

She clears her throat as she mutters to them, “I’m uh… gonna go find something to eat,” giving a weak smile as she waves, giving them no time to reply as she’s already searching for a food truck.

The music they play along the lot keeps her company as she takes pictures of cars she likes, too anxiety filled to actually talk to any of their owners. Most of the men had women who glared deeply at her, almost hissing as she passed by. She was starting to feel insecure for her outfit choice.

As Asael walks down the line, she makes her way to the small bar they have within the event, ordering a crown vanilla and coke mixture, taking light sips as she continues walking around. Her eyes slowly catch the attention of a handsome, caramel complexioned man who takes pictures of a custom challenger, headlights royal blue with a blower engine plummeting atop of the hood.

Okay, this was it. She lets out a deep breath as she compliments, “Nice car.”

The man looks up as he hears her compliment, his eyes roaming over her with appreciation. He smiles, clearly enjoying the attention.

"Thanks,” he leans against the hood of the car, crossing his arms over his chest, “She's my pride and joy. Been working on her for months. You’ showing off a ride here?”

“Oh, no. I’m uh—third wheeling my best friend,” she lightly laughs, “Decided to walk around by myself before they started hooking up in the car.”

The man chuckles at her response, "Ah, so you're in need of some company tonight,” he replies, looking her up and down with a slightly cocky smile.

She shrugs, already feeling slightly buzzed from her drink, “Maybeee,” she hums, “Unless you already have a passenger princess.”

The man smirks at her response, clearly enjoying the banter. He takes a step closer, leaning his hip against the car and looking down at her as he replies, “Nah, no passenger princess... yet."

Her tipsy aura has her feeling giddy, nodding her head as she agrees, “You seem to have good taste in cars and women.”

Just as she thinks there’s a possible connection between them, she turns her head to find the sound of people yelling, and her entire physique comes to a stop. It’s as if the hairs on her body stand up— instantly recognizing that aura from a mile away.

On the other side of the lot, the familiar neck tattoo filled her eyes, watching as he leaned on the seat of a Suzuki GSX-R750 street bike, cigarette within his mouth as his low voice sexily laughed about whatever conversation he was having. Her blood could’ve boiled as she watched him clasp palms with another man, dabbing him up as her eyes noticed something retract from his palm, now successfully within the other guy's hand. This had to be a joke.

“Can you uh…gimme a second?” She turns towards the guy she was previously talking to, giving an angelic smile.

She knew that this would be her second time being in this man’s business, but now she actually had a reason to spazz out. She can still feel the effects of her drink, knowing that’s another reason why she’s so adamant on going over there to knock his head off of his shoulders. Maybe she should’ve just headed back over to Ezra.

But as her hips twist with a vengeance and her heels thump along the ground to draw herself closer, maybe not.

A glare burns into the sockets of Toji as she stomped towards him, unable to hold her emotions back as she says, “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

Toji catches the familiarity of her voice as he looks up, his eyes meeting hers. A smug expression immediately appears on his face as he recognizes her, he lets out a lazy chuckle.

“You look pretty as fuck,” he tells her, his voice deep and gravelly. The statement has her face go blank for a brief second as he takes a drag of his cigarette, “Who are you tryna’ show out for?” exhaling slowly as he looks her up and down.

She realizes once again that she’s outside of her job atmosphere, pulling at the mini-mini skirt. The last person she expected to see was one of her students' parents, especially the one she’d just previously had beef with. Now he was looking at her in a way she hadn’t seen before. She wanted to punch him. It also made her very, very, horny. What the hell was happening to her?

“Are you serious, Toji?”

“Say my name again.”

“Bastard. What the hell are you doing here? What the fuck are you even doing? And don’t play dumb, I just saw you slide some shit over to the guy that walked away,” she fires off, his smug look making her want to jump atop of him and elbow him in the face.

“You’ watching me now?”

“You’re not very fuckin’ discreet!”

He shrugs, “I’m just showing off my car and bike.”

“Don’t play fucking dumb. I could call CPS on your stupid ass right fucking now!”

He pulls the cigarette from his lips, smoke pulling from his nose as he replies, “Don’t be a pain in the ass.”

“Don’t be a pain in the ass? Nigg—ooh!” she exclaims, watching as that makes him raise an eyebrow, a smirk coming along his lips as she continues, “You can’t be serious. I have to be immensely drunk if you’re gonna sit here and justify being a goddamn plug while you have a child. Where is your fuckin’ son, Toji?”

“You think I’d have him in this type of environment? Don’t fuckin’ play with me,” he almost sneers, Asael crossing her arms as he states, “I’m not an idiot. He’s with the nanny, her son comes over during the weekends to hang with Megumi. Got some other shit you wanna scream at me about?”

“I’ll give you five more things I wanna scream about!—“

“Hey, Zenin. I got you a beer like you wanted,” a girl comes beside him, interrupting the conversation as her green eyes stare over Asael, blonde hair and pale skin shining under the light of the lot.

A brief scan over Asael comes from the girl, jealously feigning her body as she narrows her eyes at her, “Who’s this?”

“This is my son’s teacher, Ms. Honey.”

“Ms. Honey?” The girl raises an eyebrow.

“That’s what I said. Her ass is nowhere near sweet,” he replies, Asael grimacing as he opens the bottle with his teeth effortlessly, the cap popping along the ground.

“Funny,” she squints her eyes, “It’s just Asael,” she corrects.

“A teacher,” it’s like this girl's eyes move without her permission, scanning Asael for the second time before she then states, “I’d never be able to tell.”

It’s shady, yup. It’s shady. Asael holds her breath as she asks, “Am I supposed to be wearing a cardigan or something?”

“To cover up that attention seeking piece of fabric you call a skirt? Maybe,” she gives Asael a dismissive once-over, still continuously sizing her up.

Her insults are corny, not enough to actually piss off Asael. The same way she attempted to dismiss her, she turns to Toji as she sighs, “I need to talk to you.”

“Now?” He leans himself forward, pushing off of the bike as he comes closer to her with a frown, “It can’t wait?”

“Do you think I give a fuck about your play-thing? I don’t. Yes, now.”

“Who are you calling a play-thing, bitch?” the girl sneers.

Asael’s eyes could’ve jumped out of her sockets, head swiftly tilting as she narrows her eyes, “Who are you calling a bitch, bitch?”

The thought of two women fighting over…essentially him, was an entertaining thought. But seeing Asael’s anger for himself and knowing he could handle her just fine, he wasn’t too sure if a girl he’d only been flirting with for the last hour or so had the same capability— or she was just a little too big for her own bridges. He also didn’t want to see his son’s teacher get into a fight.

“What’s your problem?” The girl scoffs, as if she didn’t start this conflict herself.

“What you’ mean? You were just talking all this hot shit, now I’m with whatever! I’m on that type of time!” She looks around Toji who’s hovered in front of her, hands shoved in his pockets as he mutters, “Chill.”

“How about you stop being so ghetto and act like a professional, Ms. Honey?”

“Ghetto?” she blinks, a crowd forming as Asael becomes visibly pissed off, “Who the fuck are you calling ghetto? I’ll show you ghetto, the fuck!” Now feeling racially attacked at the girl's words, Toji now steps forward as he grips for Asael’s waist, seeing as she’s inches away from hemming the girl up.

"Knock it the fuck off,” he snaps, his voice firm as he holds her back.

“Don’t tell me shit! Tell your hoes to watch they’ fuckin’ mouth! Talking about ‘ghetto’, bitch you don’t even know me!” She lunges forward again, the girl flinching back a bit, Toji gripping Asael harder, glare along his face as he’s now irritated.

His eyes hardened as he felt in her body that she hadn’t relaxed in the slightest. He knew she hadn’t been drinking enough to become belligerent, but he could tell her anger was something that wasn’t a simple passover.

His voice was now low as he firmly pulled her jaw up to meet his face, snapping at her in a way she hadn’t expected him to, "You're not getting into a fight over this. You need to calm down."

Toji then turns towards the girl as he says, “Go.”

“What?” She frowns, “Go?” She repeats.

“You heard me. Fuck off,” he tells her.

The girl rolls her eyes, “Whatever. You two can fucking have each other,” walking off as she throws her beer along the ground.

The moment she leaves, Asael feels herself still shaking, ripping herself away from Toji as she grunts, “I didn’t need your goddamn help.”

He instantly tugs her back, large hand having a deadly hold along her wrist, “Oh yeah? Then why was your little ass about to start a fight in a damn parking lot?" he snaps, his eyes narrowing as he looks down at her.

“You think I was gonna let a white girl call me ghetto? Have you lost your damn mind? Like I’m just acting out for no reason,” she sneers, yanking herself back, a game of tug-o-war at this point.

Toji actually becomes pissed off as he commands, “Get in the car.”

She looks over to the Dodge Durango Hellcat, engine humming, wrapped a shiny black with blood red headlights shining across and below the vehicle.

“What? I’m not getting in your fuckin’ car.”

“Woman. Get in the goddamn car.”

They’re now both staring at one another, neither of them making a move. He nods his head, a humorless smirk coming along his mouth, giving her a couple more seconds. Nothing.

He then leans over and opens the passenger door of his car, turning back as he firmly wraps his fingers along Asael’s throat and yanks her towards him. She yelps as he shoves her down into the seat, removing his hand from her neck as he brings his face close to hers, “Put your legs inside, cause I’m seconds away from tearing your ass up in this back seat.”

With the mouth she had on her, his was worse. She was learning that. Her parted lips shut tightly, face pulling back from his as she felt her cheeks go hot. She quickly pulled her legs inside, jumping as the door slammed next to her.

Now sitting with her arms crossed, he gets in on the drivers side, the silence between the two now being filled with her heavy breathing. Toji removes the leather jacket he wears, inked up arms flexing as he leans back against the seat, hovering his hand over the lighter within his car as he ignites another cigarette.

He takes a slow drag, the smoke filling the space between them as it’s still silent. He eyes her for a moment.

"Are you good now?” he asks, his voice level but still hinting at irritation.

“I’m calm,” she says flatly.

"Like hell you're calm. You nearly got into a fight over some random ass girl's words,” he mutters, exhaling smoke from his nostrils.

She turns her head, “Do I need to repeat why I was initially upset? It wasn’t about her. I don’t give a fuck about that hoe. I’m mad about what she said.”

Toji sighs, taking another drag from his cigarette. He glances over at her, studying her angry expression as he tells her, "You gotta learn to let shit like that roll off your back, baby," he says, his tone slightly softer, “Getting all worked up and tryna’ fight isn't going to prove anything."

“Oh? Says the motherfucker with the anger of a hornet? Just like you don’t need my advice, I don’t need a fuckin’ father.”

“How are you such a sweet thing to kids, yet act like this right now? Do you always get this pissed off?”

“No. Probably that damn Crown I drank. I don’t know,” she admits, the alcohol within her system feeling like two cups of coffee, her leg immensely shaking as she feels slightly frustrated.

Toji glances at her leg, noticing how much it's shaking. He reaches out, setting a hand on her thigh and giving it a squeeze to stop the movement.

"You're going to shake the whole damn car," he mutters, his hand still resting on her leg.

The touch makes her leg stop shaking, a chill running up her spine at his rough hands. Her arms soften as they’re still crossed, looking out the window as the event continues to play out, sounds of cheering coming from the other side of the lot as cars do donuts.

She looks back towards him as she mutters, “My bad.”

He notices the way she tenses up when he touches her, the subtle shiver that runs up her spine. It's a reaction that he finds intriguing.

"Your bad? That's all I get?” he asks, thumb slowly tracing small circles on her leg, almost absentmindedly.

“I’m not apologizing for almost giving that bitch a hands on tonsil removal, but I didn’t mean to make a scene,” she says, making that her version of an apology.

Toji lets out a low chuckle, the sound gruff. He continues to trace circles on her leg, his touch light yet firm as he sarcastically replies, “That's real mature of you.”

“If some asshole came up to you talking shit, you would’ve had his heart placed within his prostate. Don’t even lie,” she turns her head towards him.

"You're damn right I would," he roughly replies, his hand sliding higher up her thigh, his fingers squeezing the flesh there.

“Don’t you think that’s hypocritical?” She raises an eyebrow.

The moment after she asks the question, she lightly shifts her thigh away from him as the buzz of her drink has her core throbbing, feeling the secretion creating in her between her legs. Her hips nearly shook at his touch. She did her best to hide it.

He lets out a chuckle at her question, noticing the slight movement of her knee. His hand moves again, this time resting on her inner thigh. He can feel the warmth of her skin.

"I never said I wasn't a hypocrite," he replies, his voice dropping to a rough whisper. His thumb continues to slide across her skin, teasingly close to the hem of her skirt.

“Then…”

She didn’t mean to do it, she really didn’t. But damn, she couldn’t help it. The quietest gasp left her lips as his finger shifted right above the now drenched fabric of her panties, her entire body jumping at the simple touch. Her fingers yanked for the car handle, opening it up as she insulted, “You aren’t a hypocrite, you’re a fucking bastard!” Getting out of the car as she slams the door, mind fuzzy, legs shaking and hot as she makes her way back over to Ezra and Cam.

Toji watches in amusement as she jumps out of the car, shaking his head with a cocky smirk on his face. He shrugs to himself, leaning back against the seat and taking another drag from his cigarette.

“Hey? What the hell happened?” Ezra asks, seeing the look along his best friend's face, hands coming from around Cam's waist.

“Almost got into a fight, found Toji here, almost got my coochie touched in the car by Toji, and now I’m here, telling you!”

Ezra’s head nearly spins, “Wha?! Huh?!”

“Okay, quick run down. I was talking to this cutie with a challenger before I saw Toji in my peripheral doing…I don’t know, illegal shit with this guy. I said oh, so this is what we’re doing? He said it’s not a big deal. I said you have a son?! He brushed me off. Some girl walks up and sizes me up, we get into it and she ended up calling me ‘ghetto’ Toji physically put my ass in the car cause I was about to show her what the fuck ghetto was. He calmed me down and he was rubbing my thigh and I got really horny so I jumped out and—now I’m here?” She says the last part softer, Cam unable to hold his laugh, causing her to whine, “It’s not funny!”

“Fighting at a car lot, friend? Might be ghetto,” Ezra giggles, Asael letting out a sigh as she places her hands along her hips.

“You can say that, I don’t care. She couldn’t though. But seriously, you guys suck. I need another drink,” Asael grumbles.

“To pump you up for your next battle?”

“Fuck you. Imma’ smoke instead.”

“Better go ask your man then.”

“I will hit you!”

As Ezra dramatically pulls her into a hug to comfort her, she can’t help the soft laugh that comes from her lips. She just hopes this night becomes better before it ends. Asael was unsuccessful in all of the promises to herself, talking to Toji about Megumi, even getting that hot guy's number. All she wanted to do was ball up in a corner and cry at this point, but instead she sat atop of Cam’s car with the both of them, watching as people swerved around the lot with their own vehicles. It was now time for the motorbike show, large custom bikes revving loudly as they began flying past their bodies, Asael’s hair lightly flies back at the haste of the bikes.

Her eyes catch the scarred lip as he pulls in front of the car she sits upon, saying nothing else as he states, “Get on.”

She raises her eyebrow, looking him up and down as she frowns, “Excuse me? I’m not getting on that.”

Ezra’s eyes could’ve popped out his head, glancing over at the man as he said, “This is Toji?”

“Ezra, not now,” Asael grits her teeth, knowing he was shocked by the attractiveness of this man.

“C’mon, pretty. I don’t do all that stubborn shit,” He revs the engine of his bike, the sound filling the air as he rests his arms on the handlebars.

“Asael is afraid of bikes,” Ezra smirks, Cam wrapping his arms around him, purposely instigating the conversation as Asael glares.

Toji raises an eyebrow at Ezra's comment, turning his head to look at Asael, “Cute. Is that true?”

“Fuck you,” she says to him, hearing as that makes him darkly chuckle. When he tosses the helmet to her, she reflexively catches it before he states, “You got a couple more seconds of my patience before I put you on this bike like I put your ass in the car.”

She raises an eyebrow, “Is that a threat?”

“I make promises.”

She narrows her eyes at him, once again calling his bluff as she disagrees, “You’re not gonna do that—“ she begins, her mouth nearly dropping open as he sucks his teeth, locking the bike onto the ground as he begins removing himself from it.

She shrieks lightly, “Okay! Damn. Shit. I’m going,” standing from the car, hearing as Ezra and Cam giggle. She goes closer to the bike as she asks, “Where’s your helmet? Why’d you only give me one?”

“That is my helmet, stop stalling and get on.”

“It’s gonna ruin my hair,” she pouts, Toji snatching the helmet out of her hands as he replies, “Then get on a pray we don’t crash and your head doesn’t explode,” causing her to pull herself back, eyes wide as she shrieks, “What?! Toji!” She then whines.

His full on laugh is deep, sexy. He actually found her entirely adorable. He slides his fingers around her hips, lifting her leg onto the opposite side of the large bike as he murmurs, “Your hair is gonna be fine,” reflexively pulling her skirt that rolls up, eyes flickering to the hello kitty panties she wears. Yeah, okay.

Her heart stammers in her chest as she gets on the back, Ezra and Cam whistling out, “Nice ass!” as she has to arch herself a bit to comfortably sit behind him. As he now sits in front of her she immediately places her hands along his stomach, feeling the hardness of his abdomen, her fingers shaking as she does so.

She mutters to him, “Please don’t kill me,” a seriousness coming to her voice as she’s actually terrified.

Toji can feel her fear as she wraps her arms around his stomach. He chuckles softly, a faint smirk on his lips.

"We’d both die if you wanna be technical,” he chuckles, Asael closing her eyes as she presses her face into his back with a whimper at the thought. When he sees she’s genuinely terrified, he brings his hand backwards, lightly patting the skin close to her ass as he soothes, “Relax, baby," his voice low and rough, "You’re good. Just hold on tight,” bringing both his hands to the front, revving the monstrously loud engine of the bike.

“C’mon, Zenin! I didn’t put five-bands on this race for you to play around!” A voice calls next to him, another street bike braggingly revving their exhaust.

Her heart nearly dropped to her ass when all the other bikes began revving their engines. She’s expecting some type of circus act at this point, spinning around like maniacs and possibly killing her in the process. When she feels the bike begin to move, it takes off before she has time to mentally prepare, squeezing herself tighter around his torso as she clutches her eyes shut, pressing her cheek into the broadness of his back as she faintly shrieks.

Toji chuckles as she clings to him as if her life depends on it as he asks before it gets too loud, "You good back there?"

“Mm—mm,” she shakes her head, eyes still tightly closed as she squeals, feeling as the bike increases in speed, swerving through the lot, snapping past other bikes, gas within her nostrils as engines plummet and roar within her ears.

Toji can feel her shaking her head, her fear still evident as she buries her face into his back. He doesn't let up on the bike, pushing it faster than necessary. He can feel her body tremble against him, her cries only making him want to go faster. He swerves, making a sharp turn that causes her to cling to him even tighter, her mind going back to him saying her head might explode. What was she going to tell her students?

“Damn, pretty.” She can hear him chuckle lowly, gripping the material of his shirt as she trembles softly, “Don’t be a dick.”

He leans back slightly, shifting his weight and making her have to cling to him harder. He keeps the bike moving fast, zig-zagging through the other bikers.

"I'm not going to let anything happen to you. You're safe."

His voice is gruff yet somehow soothing. It feels like for once he’s not purposely being an ass, or constantly making jokes to rile her up. He feels genuine, knowing how terrified she actually is. As she leans against his shoulder, she peeks an eye open, her hair flurrying through the wind as she sees other bikes trying to keep up with him, going faster than anyone on the street. Her arms slightly relax as they still keep a firm hold on him, clutching as they lean to turn, a tickle coming in her stomach at the movement. A hesitant giggle pulls from her lips.

From all the crying she had been doing before, she could barely hear the music that came from his bike. Her mind focuses on the song, ‘Yam’ by Yeat plays, a curse yelling out from the biker beside them as they flurry past him like lightning.

Toji feels her arms relax slightly, her body responding to the movement of the bike. It was almost as if she was starting to enjoy the ride. A faint smirk tugs at the corner of his lips when he hears her giggle. He continues to weave through the other bikes, pushing the bike to go faster. Expertly maneuvering through the lot, Asael's hair flies wildly behind her, her body finally starting to fully relax.

"You’ getting used to it?" He calls over the wind.

She nods her head, softly replying within his ear, “I’m okay.”

It was as if the moment she said that, Asael shrieked as he floored it, another biker beside him as she felt her body falling backwards, looking to see as the front of the bike came off of the ground. Although she wanted to shit herself, she could admit that it was a cool sight to see.

As the front of the bike came off the ground, Toji let out a low chuckle at Asael's shriek. He could feel her body tense up behind him, her arms wrapping around him even tighter. He continued to control the bike, keeping it in balance as it rode on just the back wheel.

“Still scared?” He briefly turns his head towards her.

She rolls her eyes, “Just keep doing this cool shit!”

She giggles as he takes off in front of the other biker, engines nearly bursting their eardrums as they race one another. Asael yells out in excitement, Toji howling as the other biker struggles to keep up with them. In this moment her body feels like air, her hands sliding up to Toji’s chest as she places her face within the back of his neck, eyes closed as she relaxes against his scent.

His heart actually races as he feels her hands slide up his chest, her face burying into the back of his neck. He smirks, enjoying the feeling of her body pressed against him. The roar of the engine and the sound of the other bikes fill the air, but all he can focus on is her. He weaves the bike through the other riders, leaning into each turn with skill and precision. He can feel her breath on his neck, the warmth of her body sending a jump to his dick—he must've been losing his mind.

The race continues, Toji and the other biker neck to neck, engines screaming as they dart back and forth across the lot. Asael's heart beats louder than it ever has, the adrenaline pumping through her veins. She can feel Toji's heart pounding as well, the vibrations of the bike and his body making her cling to him even tighter.

Eventually, Toji pushes the bike just a bit harder, pulling ahead of the other biker. As they cross the finish line, he grins, feeling the thrill of victory coursing through his veins.

“That’s five grand on me, bitch!” He howls out, the other biker raising his middle finger to them as they both laugh within the air.

Asael rolls her eyes, giggling nonetheless at the cursing between the two men. They finally slow down, her hands loosening from around him as she immediately checks for her hair, still feeling her makeup intact as she adjusts her skirt, strawberry hair layering around her face loosely.

He smirks as his eyes take the sight of her adjusting her hair and skirt. Her red hair frames her face in an almost angelic manner, even after the wild ride they just had.

"Looks like you and your hair survived," he teases, a hint of amusement in his voice.

She brushes him off, “Whatever. Do I look okay? Do I have wind hair?” She asks, genuine concern in her voice.

He chuckles, watching her as she fusses over her appearance. He turns around slightly, his eyes roaming over her hair and face.

"You look fine. A little messy, yeah, but still pretty as hell," his voice rough yet sincere, coming forward as he pulls her hair out her face that sticks to her lips, the contrast of her caramel skin and colored hair, the lights of the lot making her almost ethereal.

The comment makes her cheeks grow hot, her legs coming off of the bike as she nods, pulling her hair behind her ear nervously. She then hears Ezra squealing, coming as he wraps his arms around her, spinning her around as it causes her to giggle as he asks, “Did you have fun?!”

Asael smiles, “I did. It was cool, I can’t lie.”

“Good. I’m glad you didn’t kill my friend, don’t know what I’d do without her,” he sighs, “Well, it’s getting pretty late. You ready to go?”

Asael doesn’t even realize it’s almost three in the morning. She looks back to Toji as she realizes she still hadn’t had the conversation regarding his relationship with Megumi. She nods her head as she says, “Yeah, uh. Actually— you guys go. I need to talk to him.”

Ezra frowns, “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, go end your night with your lil’ boyfriend that’s so madly in love with you. I’ll be fine, promise,” she smiles softly.

Toji watches the exchange between them, his arms still resting on the handlebars of the bike. His expression is neutral, but there's a flicker of curiosity in his eyes as he glances at Asael.

Ezra hesitates, looking between Asael and Toji. Her words reassure him, and he finally nods, “You know I love you?” wrapping his arms around her as Asael hums, “I know, I love me too,” giggling as she teases, “Kidding. You’re my heart. I’ll call you tomorrow,” she blows kisses, both Ezra and Cam waving as they make their way back to the car.

Asael then turns to Toji as she says, “So, uh. I actually wanted to talk about Megumi. Is that okay?”

Toji’s eyes flicker, a stoicism returning back to his face as he says, “Yeah. C’mere, I wanna show you something anyways.”

Asael frowns, “If it’s in your pants, I don’t want it,” she crosses her arms, hearing as that makes a huff of a laugh fall from his lips.

Toji smirks at her comment, his eyes flashing with amusement. He shakes his head, his voice low as he replies, "I'm not trying to show you my dick. Come here."

Her eyebrows raise, arms crossing as she comes forward. He nearly rolls his eyes, taking her small palm within his large one as he pulls her towards his car. He throws his bike’s keys to one of his friends, helping her back into his truck as they take off out of the lot. The city looks pretty underneath the street lights, Asael rubbing the sides of her arms as she lets out a breath, “Where are we going?”

Toji glances at her as he drives, his eyes flickering over her figure as she rubs the sides of her arms. He notices the city lights reflecting off her skin, the girl more beautiful than he could ever imagine.

"You'll see," he says, his voice cryptic. He keeps his gaze focused on the road, his hands gripping the steering wheel firmly.

“Oh god, are they never gonna find my body? Did I make the wrong choice?” She asks, hearing that makes him chuckle, rummaging through his car compartment for his lighter, his attractiveness sticking out like a sore thumb as he drives with one hand.

"Nah," he replies, finding his lighter and igniting a cigarette between his lips, “I said you were safe with me. I meant that.”

They pull in what looks to be a garage, her eyebrows furrowing deeper at the navy blue building. She watches as he steps out, coming around as he opens the door for her, eyes still searching hesitantly around his face.

“I have pepper spray, gorilla,” she tells him, scanning over his large figure. That makes him laugh once again as he chuckles, “You’ve got jokes forreal. C’mon.”

She takes a deep breath, trying to keep up with his long strides as he’s taller than her, Toji opening the door to reveal a completely different idea of what she had in mind. It was similar to an art studio, having a bed and a projector playing music on a loop in one corner of the room, the other side having canvases, paint splashes, rugs along the floor, seeing this is where someone took their time to discover their creativity. The pictures amongst the canvases were women’s silhouettes, landscape creations, colors and different ideas all amongst her eyes.

Asael walks slowly inside as she looks around, turning to him as she asks, “You draw?”

Toji's eyes flicker as he watches her take in the studio, the surprise evident on her face. He takes a drag of his cigarette, leaning against the doorframe as she walks around the room, taking in the various artworks on display.

"Yeah," he says simply. He watches her as she stops in front of some of his more recent pieces, his eyes studying her expression carefully.

“So that’s where Megumi gets it from…” she hums.

Her body comes to a halt as she sees another wall. The pictures are familiar to her eyes, every single drawing Megumi made at school was within this wall, including the spider-man one he’d made not too long ago. A guilt almost hits her within the chest, crossing her arms as she mutters, “Shit,” to herself.

Toji watches as her eyes settle on a particular wall, filled with drawings that are unmistakably Megumi's. A mixture of pride and sadness flickers across his face, knowing that his son is far from a typical child. He stubs out the cigarette in his hand, his voice low as he speaks, “Kid’s obsessed with drawing. Always scribbling something."

It hits her like a ton of bricks. Maybe Toji wasn’t the white picket fence father, but she could see just how much he loved his son. She hated to be wrong or even admit to it, but it was time to face the music.

Asael sighs, “I…I feel bad about the first conversation we had,” she admits.

Toji raises an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly. He leans back against the wall, his arms crossed over his broad chest as he eyes her.

"You mean the one where you called me a bad father?”

Asael’s arms drop, eyes narrowing as she says, “You know that’s not what I said, Toji.”

Toji's expression remains stoic, his eyes fixed on hers. He pushes off the wall, coming closer to her, his steps slow and deliberate.

"Ah, right, I forgot. Potentially bad father," he replies, his voice heavy with derision. He comes right in front of her, towering over her small frame as he looks down at her.

“What was I supposed to think? I mean, I never met you. You ignored my emails, my phone calls. I didn’t have anything bad to say about Megumi. He’s a sweetheart, I couldn’t ask for a better student. I just wanted to know where he came from. What made him tick. Maybe it was wrong of me to assume you had no type of relationship, but for your nanny to say you’re a ‘busy man’ and rarely spend time with Megumi, it made me concerned,” she sighs, admitting this as she sits along the bed, head tilting up as she stares over his towering frame.

Toji listens to her words, his jaw clenching slightly. Her concern for Megumi is evident, but her assumptions about his relationship with his son irritate him. He lets out a scoff, looking down at her seated form on the bed.

"I may not spend as much time with the kid as I should. Life's tough and I do my best to provide for him. But that doesn’t mean I'm a goddamn bad father," he mutters, his voice low and rough.

“That’s not what I’m saying,” her voice goes soft. “I…” she begins, taking a deep breath as she continues to speak, “I didn’t have my father when I was younger. I don’t have a good relationship with my mother, and with that, I vowed to give my child the love and attention I never received…until I found out that I was infertile, and that I’ll never be able to conceive my own children. Maybe that’s why I love my job so much, maybe that’s why I take these things to heart. But that doesn’t make it right,” a weight comes off of her chest, embarrassingly admitting her insecurities.

Toji listens to her, his expression stoic as she admits her past. He can sense the vulnerability in her voice, the weight of her insecurities. His arms unfold from his chest as he apologizes, "I’m really sorry to hear that, Asael. I appreciate the way you care for Megumi. I can also understand why you…can be the way you are at times, life hasn’t been a walk in the park for me either," he admits sharply. He pauses for a moment, his eyes roaming over her face, "But it doesn’t give me an excuse to be a dick or use my trauma against others."

“I’m not a dick,” she brings her eyes up to him, “Megumi clings to me like I’m his damn momma, it makes me almost want to cry at times,” she laughs hoarsely, “I really do care about him, he’s different from my other kids.”

Toji's eyes soften a bit, his expression losing some of its usual stoicism. He can hear the sincerity in her voice, the genuine affection she has for Megumi. He lets out a sigh, running a hand through his dark hair.

"Yeah, the kid’s like a magnet," he admits, "Damned if I know why, though."

“Because he can’t stick to you all the time. Listen, I’ll leave you alone about him. I just…please be sweet to him, you don’t seem like the type of father to be all mushy and shit, but it makes him smile. Little things go a long way with children, and at this age they need that affection,” she runs her fingers through her hair, sighing out, “He loves you, and you love him. I can see that.”

Toji listens to her words, his eyes studying her face. There’s a flicker of something in his gaze. He lets out a huff, crossing his arms across his chest again.

"You think I don’t think about how I haven’t been there for him as much as I should be? But you gotta understand, I do the best I can with the hand I’ve been dealt."

“Have you raised him alone since he was born?”

Toji’s eyes narrow at her question, her curiosity evident. There’s a moment of hesitation before he responds, his voice low again.

"Yeah, pretty much," he admits. He sucks his teeth, his eyes fixed on the floor, “His mother…well, she’s not around. And I don’t have much of a family to lean on, so it’s just been us most of his life."

It makes more sense to her why he is the way he is, understanding that his constant abandonment could be him wanting better for his child than he had, or his own traumas relaying over.

She sighs, “You’re doing amazing for what you can. He’s truly a little ball of sunshine,” she giggles, “Just wish he’d talk more.”

Toji’s expression softens a little at her words, a hint of gratitude in his eyes. He lets out a huff, shrugging his shoulders, "He's always been a quiet kid. But he's smart, always has been. Got his damn mother's brains.”

As silence falls between them, her eyes come up as she then hears him say, “I’m sorry.”

She tilts her head, “For?”

Toji sighs, his usually impassive eyes meeting hers. There’s a flicker of hesitation in them, a vulnerability that he rarely shows.

"For being a dick to you, I guess," he mutters gruffly, "You were just looking out for Megumi, I can’t hold that against you."

“Ms. Honey says that adding, ‘I guess’ to an apology doesn’t necessarily make it sincere,” she tells him, not wanting to put her teacher hat on, but unable to help herself as she gives him a soft laugh.

Toji scoffs, a hint of a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. He leans against the wall, his arms still crossed over his chest.

"And you got that from your big ass teaching handbook, huh?" he retorts, his voice holding a hint of mockery.

She shrugs, “I’m more street smart than anything. But seriously, I gave you a real apology, so I expect you to get on your knees and kiss my feet or something.”

Toji laughs at her comment, his expression amused. He pushes off the wall, taking a step towards her, "Kiss your feet, huh?" he repeats, his voice low, "You're not asking for much, are you?"

“Mmm, this one of my smaller requests,” she giggles, trying to mask the nervousness she feels around him, crossing her legs as she plays with the end of her skirt.

A shocked laugh comes from her as he pulls for her legs, lifting them to the sides of her as he has a hold of her ankles, lowering his mouth as he kisses the side of her foot. He raises an eyebrow as his gruff voice calls, “Yeah?”

The giggling comes from still being slightly tipsy and now face full-on hot, nodding her head as she amusingly replies, “T—that’s a start.”

“Oh, now I got you’ stuttering,” he drawls. He removes her heels off of her feet, beginning to suck the skin of her ankles, dragging his lips down her legs as he goes between the both of them, creating quick pecks as he latches the skin into his mouth with a popping sound. Her giggling subsides as this causes her hips to raise, her fingers digging into the sheets as she presses her mouth into itself, a line of fire being created within her body.

She then clears her throat as she dumbly asks, “U—uh, did that hurt?” She refers to the tattoo along his neck.

Toji’s eyes flicker as she asks about his tattoo, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips as his vision bores into her own. He keeps his lips along her ankles, "Nah, didn't hurt too bad," his eyes roaming over her form hungrily.

“Mine hurt like hell,” she refers to her own, the rose nearly taking over the left side of her neck, trying to keep conversation as she feels herself trembling—why was she trembling? Has it really been this long?

"Yeah? Tell me where else you got’ ink,” he wants her to keep talking to hear the shake in her voice, now hovering his face above hers, keeping his hand wrapped around one of her ankles, slowly beginning to lift it along his shoulder.

“U—uh, something on my chest…something on my hip…Little drunk ideas at the time,” her tipsy aura had faded, soberness knocking her in the head as she soaked in the fact that she was…alone with him.

Toji's eyes darken at her admission, his gaze traveling along her curves, imagining the tattoos hiding beneath her clothes. The thought makes something primal stir within him, the desire to know...to see. His other hand slowly traces along her thigh, tips of his fingers gently grazing up her inner thigh as it halts right over her panties, Asael’s mouth slightly parting as she sucks in a breath. His mouth parts along with hers as a dark chuckle leaves his lips, "Just those two, huh?"

“Probably more,” she says in a softer tone, her own hand raising to his shoulder, gripping lightly along his shirt to stop her hands from shaking. He leans forward more, letting their lips just barely touch each other. His fingers brush over her clit, rubbing against the fabric down to her opening as he hears just how wet she is, dropping his eyes down as he grunts, “Ooh, fuck,” Asael gasping along his mouth, her face probably as red as her hair at this point.

She moves her hand up to the back of his hair as her hips tremble, gripping the dark mane as she gasps out, “Toji—“ unable to get out her words as he roughly kisses her. Their tongues fall deeper into one another as they filthily make out, Asael’s open mouth dragging out a moan, eyes rolling to the back of her head as he practically fucks her mouth, head spinning as she desperately kisses him back.

He delves his fingers beneath her panties, Asael gripping for his shoulders, breathless as she whimpers, “F—fuck, just—fuck.”

“Wanted your pussy around my fingers the minute I seen you in this fuckin’ skirt,” he grunts within her ear, Asael whimpering deeper at that, feeling as he sinks his middle and ring finger past her opening, shuddering out a whine at his voice. Her skirt shoves up to her hips as she leans into the bed, unable to fight as he groans at her opening squelching from how aroused she is.

His fingers continue to work their way deeper into her, teasing her clit with each stroke of his thumb while keeping her legs pinned open with one hand. Their voices become muffled as they share a mix of moans, grunts, and gasps, lost in the intense pleasure of their mutual pleasurable experience.

It’s like she’d gone blind, eyes rolling to the back of her head as she gripped for his hair, his mouth parting open a his fingers fell deeper into her, catching her mouth with his as she groaned, “Toji,” she can’t stop herself, whining peevishly within his mouth, listening as her opening gushes, legs trembling as she pleads for his mercy, nearly killing her without doing much of anything to her.

As Asael's walls tighten around his fingers, signaling her impending climax, Toji presses his thumb against her clit with increased force, “Why is this shit so fuckin’ wet,” causing her to let out a series of desperate moans and whines. He watches her face closely, enjoying the sight of her flushed features and glazed eyes as she succumbs to the pleasure storm building within her body.

“I’m gonna cum,” she gasps, pulling one of her hands down to stop his wrist, crying softly as he snatches her hand away as he grunts, “Cum all over my fuckin’ fingers.”

He slows down, leaving her aching for more. His free hand wraps around her wrist once again, preventing her from trying to stop him as he begins to thrust his fingers deep inside her core, hitting her g-spot with precision. Asael's body starts to quiver in anticipation of her impending orgasm, her body feels desperate, creating a constant state of heightened arousal that leaves her completely dependent upon him for release.

She trembles out a moan, her other hand hanging onto his shirt as his mouth envelopes over hers, grunting out, “Right there?” She nods her head, whimpering shakily, “Right there,” bringing her hand down as she pulls his wrist towards her, his fingers scathing her gummy walls, a dark chuckle pulling from his lips at that.

Feeling the desperation in her voice and seeing the need in her eyes, he pushes his fingers even deeper into her tight canal, rubbing against her g-spot with just enough pressure to send her over the edge.

Asael lets out a long, drawn-out moan, her body shaking violently as she succumbs to the waves of pleasure crashing over her. Her hand releases his shirt and comes to rest on his shoulder, providing some stability amidst the chaotic sensations coursing through her body.

Her opening spouts out her arousal, Toji’s lips upon her neck, her hand gripping for his hair as she curses out, whining as she squirts along his fingers, something she’d never done before. She trembles, “Oh shi—shittt,” crying as he spanks her for that, grunting as he pulls his face up to kiss her, Asael whimpering as she attempts to kiss him back. She’s already completely spent.

“Gonna’ cum like that on my dick?”

“Shut up.”

“Tell me.”

“Shut up. Please.”

As Asael's body shudders and shakes, releasing her pent-up frustration in hot, messy streams onto his fingers, Toji watches in satisfaction. He savors each moment of her release, feeling the warmth of her juices coating his digits as they slide against her sensitive inner walls.

He brings his mouth up to meet hers once again, capturing her lips in a bruising kiss. Their tongues dance together, exchanging saliva and taste as he pulls away slightly to grunt, "Good fuckin’ girl. Gimme’ your eyes,” he pulls her face to meet his, “You got a fuckin’ mouth on you. Gonna make you cum as many times as you pissed me off.”

“‘M sorry,” she whimpered. He then snatches her to the end of the bed, spreading her legs as his mouth attaches to her clit, shaking his head from side to side as he spreads her opening with his jaw.

His tongue laps at her wet folds hungrily, teasing her sensitive nub with delicate flicks of his tongue, sending shockwaves of pleasure throughout her entire body.

He holds her legs open with one hand, tracing patterns on her inner thighs and giving her ass a light spank. The combination of sensations sends Asael spiraling further into submission, making her completely reliant upon him for any semblance of relief.

She lies spread-eagled across the bed, her body still quivering from the intense orgasm she just experienced. Toji leans in close to her dripping entrance, his tongue working feverishly against her sensitive flesh, the mixture of wetness and heat from his mouth combined with the occasional smack to her ass sends shivers down her spine, leaving her completely vulnerable and exposed.

His eyes flick upward, gray pouring into her vision as his voice groans, “Tell me how you like your pussy ate.”

She leans her head up, breathing harshly as she grips for his hair, her own strawberry curls sticking along her warm face as she whimpers, “Put your tongue in me,” begging essentially.

Toji’s mouth is quick, sliding his tongue deep inside of her, swirling it around and teasing the sensitive walls with the tip of his tongue. He can feel the anticipation building within her, and he knows that she's on the verge of another climax.

As he continues to lap at her folds, he speaks in a deep, rumbling tone, "Your pussy is so fuckin’ pretty, baby,” he adds an extra emphasis on the word 'pretty,' making sure she knows exactly how much he appreciates her beauty both inside and out.

She nods her head, opening tightening as she listens to his mouth, head falling back onto the bed as she spreads her legs for him, “Y—you look so pretty too,” she softly compliments, hearing him chuckle, a shiver coming across her body from the rumble of his amusement.

Her teeth digs into her lip as he spanks her again, jumping as her entire body ignites at his roughness. His hands move to cup her hips, holding her in place as he continues to eat her out. He loves watching the way she reacts to every touch and command, knowing that he has complete control over her body.

"Wait until I’m done eating you, imma’ fuck you so good," he growls menacingly, pulling his mouth away from her dripping entrance, leaving a trail of saliva in its wake as he looks up at her with a predatory glint in his eyes.

As he stands up, he grabs hold of her ankles and lifts them up towards his face, positioning her legs straight up in the air, tongue sloshing up and down as he indulges himself within her. With her legs held high in the air, he begins to slowly thrust his tongue deep inside of her slick entrance, pushing it in, eyes rolling to the back of his head as he moans, spanking her again. His hand reaches down to grab hold of her hip bone, using it for leverage as he starts to fuck her with his tongue, driving it in and out with relentless force.

She moans, music to his ears as she spreads more for him, whimpering harshly as a pout comes to her face, “I’m gonna cum all over your fuckin’ face, baby,” gasping as he bruises her skin with his palm for her sultry words. He deeply kisses her opening as he grunts, “Next time you cum it’ll be cause’ I’m fuckin’ you stupid,” he corrects her, “Better fuckin’ wait for me.”

She nods her head, pulling her thoughts together as she continues to take the pleasure he gives her, thighs shaking as she feels herself coming closer to the edge.

“Tell me you want my dick,” he gruffly commands.

“Want your dick so bad, baby, please,” she begs, spreading her legs wider, “Please,” she repeats.

He slows down the pace of his tongue, teasing her with gentle laps and light sucks before picking up speed once more, flicking his tongue against her clit relentlessly as he drives deeper into her throbbing core with each stroke of his tongue. The combination of sensations leaves Asael nearly breathless, her body trembling in anticipation.

He yanks her to the end of the bed, Asael gasping as he pulls her legs over his shoulders, lifting her up as they now stand inches away from the bed, her body held in the air by his strong arms. His hands hold the skin of her ass within his palms, Toji gently kissing her lips, pulling away to leave her mouth parted. She almost feels lonely. His tip is full and fat, smushing along her opening in a teasing way.

She places her fingers along his back as she whimpers, “Stop teasing me.”

Her mouth goes from parting to dropping open, feeling as he slowly sinks her onto the heaviness of his length, a sense of pain rupturing through her spine, overriding by a pleasure that nearly causes her to black out. Toji groans lowly within her mouth, Asael’s eyes rolling back as silence goes in between them, her legs trembling as she shockingly squirts along his abdomen, body shuddering as she groans from the unexpected orgasm.

Toji smirks arrogantly as he lifts his hand to smack along her cheek, “Keep your eyes open. Look at you, cumming from me putting my shit inside of you. You needed this, didn’t you?”

She grips for his hair, gasping against his lips as he lifts her up, dropping her back down, listening to their skin collect arousal together. Tears collect in her vision, whining mercilessly. Her body hasn’t subsided from her orgasm as he bounces her down, skin clapping together, Asael sobbing, “Oh my god, fuck.”

"Tearing your shit up so good, baby, you feel that?” He’s evil, continuously bouncing her up and down on his length, gradually increasing the intensity of their movements, battering her walls relentlessly while maintaining eye contact with her tear-streaked face.

She sniffles, nodding her head as she cries out, “I feel it.”

Toji’s teeth were nipping along her neck, leaving red trails against her skin. His hips snapped into hers with enough force to cause her to whine. Her nails dig against his skin, but it was far from uncomfortable. If anything, he liked it.

“This is what you wanted, huh?” he murmured, his hot breath against her ear. His tongue trailing against her earlobe, licking the sensitive skin.

“All you’ been thinking about.”

Asael helplessly nods her head, her eyes falling down to watch as their hips connected harshly. She breathed out, “Fuck, Toji.”

Toji’s breath hitches as he hears his name fall from her lips. It was a sound he could definitely get used to. His name was like a melody. It was a sweet song leaving her lips, hearing her say his name was like music to his ears.

“Watch your fuckin’ mouth.” He warned, sucking softly on her skin, biting down just enough to leave a mark.

“Thought you liked a lil’ potty mouth,” she attempted to tease, gasping through her words. Her eyes fluttered shut, inhaling softly as she felt his hand slam along the skin of her ass, his other fingers traveling up as they shoved into her mouth.

“You’re pushing it,” Toji tells her, squeezing her skin in his hand, biting down on her shoulder as his fingers press against her tongue.

“Keep mouthing off like that. Gonna use your throat for something else.”

“Sorry,” she whimpers, wrapping her mouth along his fingers, sucking gently as she moans.

“Yeah, you’re definitely not sorry.”

Her mouth wrapped around his fingers felt nice, her tongue pressing against them in a way that would send a shiver down his spine. He could only imagine what else that tongue would do to him.

He leaned down, moving his fingers out of her mouth to bite along her jaw, down to her neck as he grunted, “Fuckin’ tease.”

“And you’re a bastard,” she gripped the back of his hair, pushing out the words with the last bit of air within her throat.

Toji lets out an amused chuckle, the grip on his hair pulling his head back slightly. All of it drove him crazy.

“You like that shit,” He murmurs against her ear, his hips still forcing themselves into hers. “Admit it.”

She shakes her head, eyes rolling to the back of her head as he pulls her head back, looking within her face. She digs her teeth into her lip, refusing to give him a response.

“Fuck you,” she grunts out, her stomach dropping as he shoved his hips up, dropping her hips down. She trembled, her mouth flying open as she whines, “Fuck, baby. Fuck. Fuck.”

“Yeah? That’s all you got now?”

She gasped, hips shivering as she used one of her hands to cover her mouth, unable to stop herself from the broken moan she releases, “Fuckkk, my god. Stop it.”

He continued moving, forcing his hips against hers. He wanted to hear more of her. No, he needed to hear more of her.

“T—Toji,” she holds onto him, “Can’t hold on much longer, oh my…” she gasps, “Fuckin’ h—hate you.”

“You don’t.”

“I do,” she promises, eyes fluttering shut, “So much.”

“You’re giving me all this attitude, but you’re holding on so fuckin’ tightly to me like you don’t wanna let go,” he raises her hips, tip halfway out of her, feeling as her legs shake, Asael swivels her lower body as she whimpered.

“Cause I don’t wanna,” she then admits, her moans dropping from her lips like she couldn’t stop them, the sound of their hips connecting alarming around her ears, she trembles out a harsh cry.

“There we go,” he murmured against her skin, his lips trailing along her shoulder, “That wasn’t so hard.”

Each time he slams her down onto his dick, her pussy gripping tightly around him, releasing small waves of pleasure that seem to radiate throughout both their bodies.

“Pussy’s talking to me baby, huh?”

“Ugn—mhmmmm.”

She grips the side of his face, nodding her head as she begs, “Don’t stop,” trembling as she kisses along his neck.

“Don’t stop?”

His fingers dig into the flesh of her ass, grinding her onto his abdomen, arousal dripping down his abdomen each time their bodies connect.

“Don’t.”

She feels like he’s punishing her for the mouth she had before they ended up here, her attitude something that needed to be tamed. Now here she was—broken and needing him, attitude nowhere in sight.

“Reckless ass fuckin’ mouth of yours. Now look at you.”

“Fuckk, baby. Please.”

“What? Talk to me.”

She gasps, back of her thighs clapping along his hips, coating her arousal along his length as she breathlessly whimpers, “Sorry.”

“You should be.”

A peevish whine leaves her lips, dragging her tongue along his jaw until it reaches his lips, “Want you so bad.”

Toji grins at her whimpers and begs, the sound fueling his desire further. He captures her tongue with his, dominating her mouth as he increases the pace of his thrusts. The room is filled with the sound of their bodies connecting, the lewd noises and gasps they're both making.

"Fuck, never heard pussy talk the way she’s talking to me,” he groans in her ear, his voice filled with satisfaction, “You want me this bad?"

She gasps against his lips, holding his hair tightly within her fingers, brokenly moaning as she nods her head, head tilting back as he slams her hips down harder to meet his.

Asael's gasps for air between moans, her body twitching with pleasure and anticipation, only serve to further fuel Toji's hunger. He revels in her cries of pleasure echoing throughout the room as he continues to fuck her senseless.

She nearly whines like a brat when he pulls out of her, carrying her over to the bed as he lays his back against it. Pulling Asael by her blood rich curls, he grips his length within his other hand, slapping it along her tongue before pushing it between the lips of her mouth. Her eyes roll to the back of her head as she moans, immediately bobbing her head up and down as she sucks him within her mouth.

He pulls her hair back roughly, forcing her to look up at him as he holds her head still while he pushes his length into her waiting mouth.

“Begging for my dick, you even want my shit in your throat,” He watches closely as Asael eagerly takes him into her mouth, swallowing his throbbing length wholeheartedly, showing no resistance or hesitation in pleasuring him.

Her warm cheeks grow hotter at his words, keeping her eyes down as she opens her throat, mouth entirely full as she moans, tip slamming into her mouth each time her lips meet with his abdomen.

“All you needed was something in this pretty ass mouth of yours,” he grunted, using his other hand as he held her hair, positioning her up more as he guides her head down, bobbing her mouth up and down harshly that it causes her eyes to roll back, thighs squeezing together as she feels her clit throb at his tone. She’d never expect herself to be this indulged to a man speaking to her like this, embarrassingly enjoying every second of his dirty talk.

“I’m so…wet…” she admits between airs of breath, watching as that makes him grunt, head falling back as he grunts, “Yeah? You are? Shit, baby,” her lips smacking to his abdomen, taking him all the way down her throat.

He pulls her away from him, holding her up by her hair as his palm smacks along the cheek of her face, seeing the natural beauty of it as her lip liner fades away off her full lips, teary eyed vision lessening of mascara.

Her teeth digs into her lip as she nods, elatedly giggling as he growls at the sight. He grunts, “Yeah, okay,” pulling her up by the ponytail he creates as he scoots his body down, her hips now above his as he takes his other hand to spread her ass cheek, core squelching from the air it collects from the movement. The emptiness she feels is now replaced by the full girth of his dick, Toji mercilessly dropping her down onto his abdomen.

The shakey gasp that leaves her lips as Toji groans with her at the same time, “Ooh, shit. She missed me,” causing Asael to whimper as he spanks her in repetitions.

He’s propping her up to where her feet are along the bed, putting her in an almost squatting position as he puts his muscular arms under her legs, holding her by the thick flesh of her ass before he’s pulls her up slowly, slamming her back down, arousal spewing through the separation of their skin, Asael gasping deeply at the sound.

Silence goes between them as they listen, her eyes falling slightly behind herself as she watches her ass drop devilishly against his hips, wrapping her hand around one of his arms that holds her. Toji’s eyes are locked down, watching as each time he lifts her up, more of her arousal paints against his length.

His eyes flick up to her face, seeing as she can barely keep her eyes open, pouting heavily as she’s barely in control. He tells her gruffly, “Spread your pussy. Gonna go deeper,” guiding her hands to both of her ass cheeks, pulling them farther away from one another. Asael trembles atop of him, hips stuttering as she nods, desperately trying to keep up with him.

He guides her, roughly slamming her hips down to his, Asael now mewling defeatedly, feeling her eyes brimming with tears again as she runs her fingers over his arms, wanting to hold one of his hands.

“Keep going with all that whining shit you were doing earlier,” he tells her, a shockwave being sent along her body as he’s back to spanking her, Asael spreading herself from behind as she whines softly, “You’re so fucking deep, baby.”

“In your stomach?”

She nods her head, no words allowing from her lips as a late gasp shudders from her mouth. Toji tightens his grip on her hips, his fingers digging into her skin even harder as he forces her movements to follow his pace, his eyes never leaving her flushed and pretty face. He can see the way she's struggling to keep herself together, her eyes teary and her body trembling with pleasure.

Her desperation becomes evident in her movements, so he reaches up to intertwine his fingers with hers, gripping her hand tight, grounding her to him.

"Pussy keeps pulling me in,” he groans breathlessly, his eyes locked onto hers as he continues to slam her hips down onto him. He can feel her hand squeezing his, the touch adding to the intimacy of the moment.

"Just like you were made for me," he prods, his voice rough and possessive. “I can tell you’ve never been fucked like this. That’s why you’re so fuckin’ mad all the time.”

“Toji,” her chest shakes as she sobs, taking his hand as she places his fingers within her mouth, needing a way to quiet herself as her eyes roll to the back of her head.

“Just needed a dick to cum on. One to make you cum, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah?” He arrogantly repeats.

“Aughhhh—ugh, fuck. Yeah.”

She felt as though she didn’t have any more energy to give, wanting to tap out— she knew that wasn’t happening. A soft gasp leaves her hips as they swiftly switch positions, Asael now against her stomach as her hips are arched within the air of the bed. Toji’s abdomen presses along her back as he hovers over her, eyes rolling to the back of her head, shoving her face along the sheets as she jerks out a breathless curse, fists tightening as he pushes back into her. She feels his lips along the back of her neck, his arms trapping hers beneath his.

She hopes— prays he tires himself out. He takes one hand as he wraps it around her throat from behind, deeply grinding his hips down into her. His lips attach to the side of her neck, fingers clutching her mouth within his hold as she shudders, “Oh fuck,” Toji arrogantly chuckling right beside her ear.

“Pretty ass tattoo, looks like the shit hurt,” he talks, deep voice wracking within her brain as he grunts, “Let me kiss it better,” dirtily making out with her throat, dragging his tongue along the skin nearly up to her ear. Her eyes can’t stay open, feeling as if she’s about to go blind, the pleasure of him smacking his hips directly along her g-spot has her muffling, “Ohhh my god. F—fuck. F—uckk.”

His pace gets faster, his grip on her throat and mouth tightening. He can hear the way she gasps and moans against his hand, the sound muffled and desperate. But he doesn’t let up, he keeps going, pushing her to the edge and then holding her there, keeping her on the brink of ecstasy and pain.

He leans down, his lips against her ear, his voice a dark, possessive growl, “Think this pussy had been waiting for me,” he pulls out, taking his hand as he bobs his tip along her entrance, watching as Asael trembles out a gasp, legs vibrating as she whines, “Gonna cum. S—so close, put it back in.”

He moves his hips against hers, rocking her body and making her whimper and gasp. Her body trembles and shakes, the pleasure and pain becoming too much for her to handle.

“Toji, please. Please.”

“Pussy makes me wanna fall in love,” he grunts, spreading her apart with his own hand, seeing her opening throbbing, gummy pink walls pulling themselves inward as they need his connection.

“Ungh,” she softly groaned, biting her teeth against the pillow, eyes shut tightly as she moaned along the sheets, eyes rolling to the back of her head as he rolled his hips against hers, still not going back inside of her.

“You wanna cum?”

“Yes.”

“Say that shit, then.”

“Wanna fuckin’ cum all over your dick, baby. C—can’t wait,” she nearly feels tears in her eyes.

The evil bastard rumbles a deep chuckle against her body, pulling her hair into his fist as he twists the mane into a ponytail, other hand spreading her opening father as he shoves his dick back inside of her, yanking her hips back with an angle to hit directly to her g-spot. Asael feels elated, a high-pitched giggle leaving her lips as she whines, eyes rolled to the back of her head as her orgasm nearly pushes his length out by the strength of pleasure, her mouth sobbing out half screams, face shoved into the pillow as she releases wildly. He picks her head up as he grunts, still keeping his hips plummeting into her, “Nah. Fuck all that. Cum. Shit feels good, doesn’t it?”

She nods her head, whining, “Yeahhh,” tears dropping from her face, catching his wrist within her palm as he damn near leaves a handprint on her ass, ignoring as his final words to her are, “So fuckin’ polite now. All you needed was to be fucked.”

The chaos of the moment drives him to a brink of insanity. To hear the suction of air spouting from her opening, Asael defeatedly gasping, head turning as her mascara ridden face tiredly moans, it’s euphoria.

His hips stutter as he pulls out with a moan, an unexpected movement from Asael as she quickly turns herself to let him release along her flushed face, her hands wrapped around the base of his length as she sticks her tongue out.

It makes the man halt, his eyebrows raising as she does so.

Both of their heavy breathing fills the room, her shamelessly beautiful face staring up at him with practical stars in her eyes, Toji for once in complete silence as she giggles from his shocked face.

“Shit,” he grunts, “Maybe I was wrong. You are sweet.”

Her eyes scan along his face, a new rise of confidence within her as she shrugs, “Could just be one of my better moods.”

“Better? You’re not in the fuckin’ heavens right now after I tore your ass up?”

Asael shrugs, “Maybe. Maybe not.”

As she continues to giggle, Toji raises his eyebrow. She must’ve forgotten who he was just that quickly. But she’s about to be reminded, a gasp falling from her lips as he twists her hair into his fingers, pulling her eyes up to meet him so she can hear every word.

“Nah, fuck that. Turn over.”

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ toji visuals + vibes ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

[2neaky]

🎤 Thank U 4 The Dono! 💿 P.2

12k words! 𝑹𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒆𝒓𝑶𝒏𝒚! ♡ 𝑪𝒂𝒎𝒈𝒊𝒓𝒍𝑶𝑪! | 𝑴𝑫𝑵𝑰 -> 𝑾𝑨𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑮𝑺: size k*nk, or*al (m recieving), p in v s*x (use of a condom), tricking/“paying for p*ssy,” power-imbalance (financial), dr*g use (w*ed), heavy drinking, drunk s*x, morally grey ethics concerning modern-day s*x work and “buying” one’s consent, basically pr*stitution, objectification, egotistical Onyankopon, body mods (n*pple piercings), specific descriptions of body types, use of n-word (characters & writer are Black), roughly edited

Part 1

Finally, the last part! Warning, this fic isn’t the most ethically sound and I, as the writer, can recognize that. I don’t necessarily condone all concepts portrayed in this fic, but it’s just for the plot. Sometimes, I like morally grey shit. If you unable to separate this fictional story from real life, I advise against reading this. Enjoy & reblog! <3

“Right this way! Please follow the signs!”

Standing in a dimly lit corridor, the attendant is dressed in a prim suit as they shout directions to the attendees. 

Echoes of sound check bounce off of the walls of the large stadium. At times, there are minutes of silence before they’re interjected by brief clips of music or even someone speaking into the mic.

This place is massive, built to house thousands of screaming fans at a time.

All of it piques Bliss’s interest as she’s guided along by security. Some part of her wishes she could stay and watch the onstage preparation up close.

However, she forgets about all of that as she travels up a steep flight of stairs, away from the stadium’s general seating. 

Tiny lights, embedded along the sides of each step, light the way through the dark staircase. Kitten heels click softly as she slowly climbs, in line behind another guest. She neglects to hold the railing, preferring instead to latch onto her phone. 

Her other hand grips the wooden baton handles of her newest purchase: a Goyard Saïgon mini bag. 

Truthfully, it was an impulsive purchase made with just a fraction of the money she received from her Halloween Stream—and, speaking of, her bank account has never been healthier. 

That stream has upped the quality of her life, undoubtedly. Not that she wasn’t living comfortably before, but her world has been opened to new experiences. 

For instance, premium seating at a concert of her favorite artist. She’s in a space where she can afford this experience probably three times over. Yet, she didn’t even have to spend a dime to get it.

She can hardly contain a tiny grin with the flash of a memory—a conversation between her and Onyankopon over messages. Just a casual discussion, going in-depth about this entire arrangement.

Anyway, as the little quirk disappears from her face, a burst of light washes over her. She’s finally reached the top of that long staircase. Just a few feet away is the enclosed balcony, cased off behind glass so clean that she’s sure she would’ve walked right into it.

A “Luxury Box” is what they called it—an exclusive lounge, secluded to a balcony room above the stage. There’s a different attendant at its door, greeting each guest as they enter. 

“Good evening, enjoy the show,” the young woman greets with a pleasant smile and gentle nod.

Bliss can’t help but to show teeth, the apples of her cheeks even aching. “Hi, thank you.”

As she spills into the room with the other guests, her eyes are everywhere. The Luxury Box is spacious, considering that there are about thirty people here.

Her first observation is that this place is comfortable. Cushioned chairs positioned before a large glass—it’s the perfect seating arrangement with an excellent view of the stage from its left. 

The floor below the seats is glass, too. The sight gives way to a sea of empty chairs, hundreds of feet below. Soon, they’ll be filled with excited fans.

To the right of the viewing area is the bar, decked out in expensive, unopened bottles. There’s already a bartender behind the counter, wiping down the dark marble. 

And by the looks of it, they’re fully stocked: wine, champagne, beer, juice, water—anything a patron could desire. 

That’ll be the first spot she hits up.

On the room’s opposite side is an array of food spread out amongst a long, cloth-covered table. From hors d'oeuvres to dessert, they have everything. Behind the table, caterers attend to the food, ensuring its presentation is on point.

She needs no more convincing. Whipping out her phone, Bliss is quick to record the sights surrounding her. She slowly pans the camera, trying to catch everything in the video.

She hadn’t known what to expect before coming, however, Bliss had to give herself props. She managed to dress perfectly for the occasion, blending seamlessly with the lounge’s modern chic decor.

Jean Paul Gaultier hugs her body tonight as a black maxi dress with small grey dots that outline the feminine shape. The dramatic curves and slopes of her body stretch it out in a way that elevates the dress. 

No doubt, it’s a wonderful look. However, it’s also a rather sheer piece, as its material is comprised of a thin, but tiny netting. Several times throughout her journey here, she’s had to pull her bundles to the front, having them fall over her chest.

It’s her fault she hadn’t tried on the dress before packing it, she realizes. If she had, she would’ve known to buy some pasties beforehand.

Peering around the room one more time, Bliss seems to recognize a few faces—well known influencers, and even a couple of celebrities.

Be calm, she reminds herself. She’s blended in so far. 

A nervous tick, she glances at the time on her phone. She exhales with the realization that it’s only about an hour and a half more before the show is scheduled to start.

She’s closer to seeing Onyankopon live. Closer to meeting him in person for the first time. The thought has her queasy and excited all at once. She presses a manicured hand to her stomach.

God, she wishes she knew someone here, just so that they may distract her from the “what-if’s” and “maybe’s” running through her mind.

But, really? Who needs friends when there’s a bar just a few feet away? 

Especially when there’s a cute ass nigga behind it?

She just found her newest distraction to take the edge off of things.

•

The stadium’s lights have lowered to pitch-black, darkness, allowing the stage’s to shine. Shades of purple bleeding into white beam brightly. 

The DJ, propped farther back on the large stage, plays tracks that only hype up the audience.

Below the balcony, through the glass flooring, Bliss watches fans flood the stadium. They almost perfectly resemble waves of the sea. Even their cheers can be heard from up here.

As it gets closer to that time, they grow louder. They almost compete with the music.

Nursing her second drink of the night (if she doesn’t count the shot she has in between this and her first), Bliss sits plum in her seat. There’s a pleasant buzz running throughout her, and obviously it’s the liquor.

Just a little bit tipsy, more and more things seem to catch her attention as her body and mind ease up. So many distractions around her, she almost didn’t realize that someone’s come onstage if it weren’t for the screams of the fans beneath them: the show’s opener—Connie Springer.

She makes a quiet gasp around her straw, eyes wide as she leans forward in her chair. 

Bliss has a couple of his songs in her rap playlist. He’s not nearly played as much as Onyankopon is in her household. Still though, the support is there.

She actually found Connie through him. Seeing as they’re closely affiliated and under the same label, his music was recommended after Ony’s. 

Even in a couple of Ony’s Instagram posts, she can spot the other man in the background. She must admit, the rapper keeps a couple of fine ass niggas around him—hence why she follows Connie, too. 

She only hopes Ony doesn’t look too deeply into that.

But, coming back to reality, Bliss can see why Ony had picked the man to be his opener. 

He’s getting the crowd hype, and they’re rapping the lyrics right along with him. By the time his set ends—an unforgettable forty minutes—the audience is even livelier than before.

It’s astounding, really. She didn’t think they could get any louder. And the energy is coming off of the crowd in waves. She can’t be the only one in the lounge affected by it, her skin covered in goosebumps.

“I appreciate y’all tonight!”

The crowd cheers after Connie. His image is blown up on the Jumbotrons, giving every onlooker a view of his gemmed smile.

“I know y’all loud for me, but I’ma need y’all to be even louder for my brother, Onyankopon!”

Deafening shrieks fill the stadium. And Bliss is sure that if she were on the ground, her eardrums would’ve been ruptured.

Even the other guests in the lounge cheer loudly. And she’s thankful, knowing that she won’t have to hide her excitement when the time comes.

As Connie leaves the stage, the crowd chants: “Ony! Ony! Ony!”

With the stage now empty, its lights dim and the music almost completely fades. For a moment, everything seems to still.

The fans grow quieter—even if it’s just by a fraction. But, it’s safe to say that everyone in the stadium is watching the stage closely with bated breath. Waiting for something—anything—to happen.

Then, music strikes with volume that reignites the crowd. 

Almost everyone around her shows their enthusiasm, tempting her to do the same. So, Bliss cups a hand near her mouth, letting out a resounding “wooh” from her seat. 

“ATL, you ready?”

The voice, deep and amplified by the mic, sends a chill through her. For about ten seconds, the music is completely drowned out by the fans’ screams.

Her eyes scour the stage, not finding a single soul on it. It’s still dark, too.

Then, there’s another sound: a low chuckle. 

Her stomach drops. She never thought she’d be so attracted to the sound of someone’s laughter. She’s sure that there are at least a thousand other fans that are sharing the very same experience. She can’t be the only one.

“Nah, I’on think y’all heard me—“

Purple streaks of light shoot down onto the stage. Flames, rigged at the perimeters of the platform, burst out as the man of the hour runs out onto the stage. 

Any music is drowned out by the fans.

The stage’s backdrop illuminates the entire platform as a spinning graphic of the letter “O,” wrapped in barbed wire, displays on the screen.

“Y’all niggas ready?” 

She finally sees him as his image is blown up on the Jumbotrons. It’s not the clearest resolution, but she can tell just how fine he is.

Mic held to his lips, the lower half of his face is hidden. A baggy, black zip up covers his upper half. He’s even got his hoodie up, sadly, obscuring the rest of his face. 

But, as she stares at his image, she notices the flashes of light catching on the cloth. Squinting just a little, she catches sight of the tiny crystals dotting the dark fabric.

As Onyankopon moves about, he glitters underneath the stage lights. Tiny, rain-bowed streaks of light are caught by the cameras, projecting his image.

But that isn’t the only thing on him that shines. Coming around his neck and resting on his chest, is a tangle of thick, heavy looking chains.

His microphone picks up every clank they make. They don’t even need light to shine, his diamonds still dance in the dark. It’s almost blinding.

Large, baggy black cargoes cover his strong legs. However, it’s only the base for the shiny, silver and purple, jeweled buckles strapped all down the length of the fabric.

“Y’all turnt up in here, tonight!”

There’s a slight breathlessness to his voice, and it makes her body clench. If she could bottle up the sound and keep it to herself, she would.

Or is that the liquor talking?

As Onyankopon pulls the purple mic away from his face, a camera picks up on him. The closeup of his face is blown up all over the Jumbotrons.

As the crowd cries out for him, he shows them a perfect smile. His bottom row of teeth covered in VVS diamond lined, opal grillz. 

It’s almost too much, the sight threatening to turn Bliss into a puddle right in her seat.

He lifts the mic to his mouth again, just as laughter tumbles out past his lips. “Y’all right up there with Chicago! Think you could do better than ‘em tonight?”

Fans are going ballistic, jumping and cheering even louder. They begin to chant again, repeating his name over and over.

All of these people, screaming his name, are here to see him. She can’t fathom how he does it.

But watching him, seeing how his smile stretches wider and the apples of his cheeks swell, she sees that he’s in his element.

“Yeah … y’all niggas some real competition!”

More screams. She almost wishes she was amongst the crowd, free to go as crazy as the other fans.

“Do me a favor: keep this energy the whole night! Nothing less—only up from here!”

Those were his last words as the beat to one of his songs begins, and the stadium dissolves into madness. The heavy base punches through every body filling it. 

Bliss can feel it in her chest. Even the luxury box’s glass has the faintest tremor to it.

Ony runs down the middle of the stage, where it stretches out into the crowd. Mic to mouth, he’s on it, rapping over the track with passion.

A nasty mug contorts his face as he performs, clearly feeling the lyrics. And the fans are rapping right along with him. 

One in particular, a young, scrawny man with big glasses, is caught on camera. His body is pressed to the metal barrier, he’s leaning over, gazing up at the rapper as his mouth moves along to every word.

Stepping closer to the area, Ony points a gloved hand at the young fan, making sure everyone—even the cameras—are paying him close attention.

Bliss’s heart swells at the sight of the endearing moment.

Running back to the main stage’s middle, Ony jumps up and down with the song’s beat. The pyrotechnics go off once again as the song’s hook comes up.

The energy consuming this stadium is too powerful to ignore. Bliss loses herself to it. After the first two songs, she can’t even find it in herself to care how crazy she looks—losing herself to the energy of the performance.

Halfway through the show, Onyankopon loses his hoodie. 

She remembers it so clearly, when he had unzipped it. The dark fabric parted and gave way to shiny, deep brown abs, littered with tattoos of all sizes.

Her fingers itched to run down the rigid surface of abs. 

Free from the heavy material, his head is fully visible. His typical inky black waves are sheathed by an equally black, velvet durag. And she’s almost 100% sure that it’s real velvet—none of that suede shit.

What catches her eyes the most is his nickname, “Ony,” spelled with beaded gems in Old English font on the back of the fabric.

One of the cameras, currently projecting his image onto the Jumbotrons, shows the audience the glistening skin of his back as he walks back to the main stage. His tattoos only continue to bleed into the expanse of the dark skin. Strong muscles ripple beneath the smooth skin.

She pulls out her phone, recording yet another clip of the shirtless man as he performs on the stage below. Without a second thought, she posts it to her Instagram story.

He just looked too fucking good for her not to capture. Without a doubt, Onyankopon is putting on a show. 

Bliss can die happy right now…

Except, she can’t. 

Not when the starting melody of her favorite song, catches her ears. She gasps, freezing in her seat.

At the center of the stage, Ony’s pacing slows to a stop. He stares out at the jumping crowd, a smile slowly climbing onto his face. The crowd is in a frenzy.

“What y’all know ‘bout this one?”

They roar louder as he continues to search the stadium, not looking for anyone in particular. Not yet.

“Wasn’t even gon’ perform this one, I ain’t gon’ hold you,” he chuckles.

He begins to pace again, thinking with amusement of just how much shit he makes his DJ put up with—what with him prolonging this track just to speak to the fans.

Bringing the mic to his lips, Onyankopon finally looks up at the large luxury box to the left of the stage.

“But, I know you like it.” 

A camera catches a closeup of him just as he shoots a quick wink. It’s all over the Jumbotrons, and the crowd goes wild. 

As the song finally begins, Bliss’ body catches a chill. She has no choice but to get up for this one, it is her favorite song after all. 

It’s definitely a turn up song, and she does just that. Rapping along, she earns the attention of others around her. So entranced by the music, she doesn’t even realize how they begin to hype her up. And she doesn’t miss a word.

Without a thought, Bliss kicks off her short heels. Holding onto the back of her chair, she bends over and throws her ass in a circle. 

Hoots and hollers from a few of the women around her goad her on, she sticks her tongue out. One or two of them even give her a couple of taps.

There’s lights shining on her, and she’ll have to remember to ask them for the videos. The dress is doing absolutely nothing to constrict the way her body moves, despite how tight it is.

Standing up straight, she does a full body whine, mouthing her favorite part of the song. Without a doubt, this is a highlight of her concert experience.

Sadly, just as quickly as the song had started, it ends. But, Bliss is only smiling, laughing too hard with the other guests.

Now she can die happy.

•

Three hours of performing—it was a dream to witness. And to think, that after all of that, she’s going to meet the artist.

How this can possibly go, she’s can’t imagine. Well—realistically, it can go one of two ways. 

He flew her out for tonight’s show, put her up in one of the best hotels in the city, and even assigned a personal driver to her for the time being that she was here—a big bodied, black truck, of course.

So, there’s only one thing he wants. Bliss knew that coming into this. And she agreed, didn’t she?

The attendants assigned to this luxury box had made the announcement minutes ago to follow the signage for a swift exit, seeing as the show’s over.

Of course, there were a few stragglers—her included. Head buried in her phone, she swipes through the videos she was able to get from the other guests of her “mini performance.”

She’ll definitely have to post these later.

With a ring-dressed middle finger, she’s trimming one of the videos, far too focused to notice the two men approaching her.

“Ms. Bliss?”

Blinking, her head shoots up as her inky black inches fall over her face. She pushes the strands out of the way.

“Yes?”

“Onyankopon’s ready for you.”

Her face blanks as she looks back and forth between the two. Her tongue fumbles in her mouth. So, she remains wordless as she nods.

Coming to her feet, she pulls down her dress and smooths out any wrinkles. Swiping up her mini Saïgon, she follows after the men as they take her to the performer.

•

“Another city finished,” Connie smirks, dapping him up.

Slumped in a chair of his own, Ony laughs. “Yeah, and I’m ‘bout tired as Hell.”

Connie plops down on the futon pushed against the wall of Ony’s dressing room—just a few feet across from the man himself.

“You definitely gonna crash after this,” he laughs, pulling out one of his phones from his pants pocket.

“Nah,” Ony shakes his head. Licking his bottom lip, he tries to conceal a smile as Connie glances at him. “Actually … I got shit to do after.”

Raising a brow, Connie looks at him fully this time. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

They both share a knowing look, which only makes this all the more funnier.

“How you meet her?”

Glancing away, Ony bats him off as he sucks his teeth. “Don’t worry ‘bout it.”

“Nah, it better not be ole’ girl—“

“Chill,” Ony quickly looks his way. “Told you I was done with that. This a new vibe. Trust.”

Connie looks him up and down, ultimately deciding to trust his friend. “Alright…”

“Yeah, and speaking of—you gotta get the fuck up outta here.��

Connie makes a face. The question “why” is on the tip of his tongue, ready to fall from his lips, when a knock sounds at the door.

“Shit,” Ony mumbles, slowly getting up on sore feet.

Connie chooses to laugh this time. “Guess that’s my cue to leave.”

“Yeah,” he chuckles, twisting the doorknob just before pulling it open.

“Ony,” Mitch, one of the security guards on his team greets.

“Wassup, man,” he nods.

Quietly, Mitch shifts to the side to allow him to see the short woman behind him: Bliss.

Ony’s eyes light up like a Christmas tree. Like he’s just been served the tastiest looking platter in the world; The finest piece of steak from STK Steakhouse.

“Hey.” The corner of his lips upturn.

“Hi.” Bliss had seemed to breathe the word out.

Without thinking, Ony outstretches an arm to pull her in for a side hug. 

“‘Preciate it, y’all,” he says to the guards. 

The two men turn away, returning to their stations at the end of the hallway. 

Ony opens the door wider, allowing Bliss to slip past him and into the comfortably sized room. As she makes her way past him, he doesn’t stop his eyes from falling below her waist to check out her body.

Her ass moves like water in that dress. And the perfume wafting off of her, mingled with her body’s natural scent, is rich and warm. Luxurious, even. An expensive one for sure.

“Hey,” Bliss waves shyly, meeting Connie’s eyes.

The man with the bleached, shaved head makes a strong effort to keep eye contact. And if Onyankopon weren’t watching him closely from behind her, he would’ve broken it. If only to admire how her body stretches the fabric out—and how terribly it hides her nipples. 

“Wassup, how you doing?” Connie smiles kindly. Standing up, he pockets his phone while outstretching a hand to her.

Politely, Bliss gives him a gentle shake before letting her hand fall back to the wooden handle of her purse.

“Ony,” Connie moves over to the man, dapping him up.

“We talk soon,” he nods.

As soon as the door shuts, with Connie’s departure, it’s like all of the air in the room has been sucked out.

Slowly, Bliss turns to face him. He’s already staring her down.

“It’s good seeing you in person.”

His voice is low, but soft. 

Her body is covered in goosebumps within seconds. She gives a shaky smile, showing off that cute gap between her two front teeth.

“You, too,” she says.

“You nervous?” He smiles as he heads over to the room’s large vanity.

It allows her the space needed to breathe as she watches him retie the loosened strings of his durag.

“I am,” she giggles, wanting to cover her mouth. “The show was really good, though. I had fun.”

“I’m glad.” He turns back around, leaning against the vanity to stare at her. “Hope you appreciated the song.”

Her smile only grows. “I did, thank you. You don’t even know, I was dancing and everything.”

“Oh yeah?” He raises his brows, watching her beam.

“Yes, it’s my favorite!” She remembers telling him in their DMs that it was her favorite song of his.

However, that definitely isn’t how he learned that fact.

Almost bowing her head, Bliss looks up at him through her thick lash set. “Thank you for performing it.”

“Don’t worry ‘bout it.” He looks her up and down. 

He might be exhausted, but he can definitely squeeze out one more performance for the night. 

After all, his body is still running off of the adrenaline from the show.

“How was everything? The hotel good?”

She perks up at that. “Hm? Oh—yes!” She nods. 

He thinks it’s cute.

“The hotel is very nice, and thanks for the driver.”

“Anything to make you comfortable.” He licks his lips. His eyes flick down for half of a second, catching a peak of her pierced nipples through the dress.

Of course, she notices.

“I’ma ride with you back to the hotel, take a quick shower, then we out for dinner. That’s cool with you?”

Her matte lips roll into her mouth and she nods. It’s a weak attempt at hiding an excited smile. They discussed this before—spending the night out together. Yet, Bliss still finds herself unable to really believe it.

His well-groomed brows lift just an inch. “That’s not a answer.” 

She breaks into laughter, feeling silly. “Yes, Ony.”

“Aight. Lemme grab my shit and we could leave together.”

She nods, heading over to the vanity on her own accord as Ony moves about to gather his items. 

As he packs his black, Margiela backpack, she tweaks her appearance in the brightly lit mirror. Smoothing down flyaways, fixing her lip combo—she does it all.

Being the great multitasker he is, Onyakopon sneaks glances at her from behind.

This view is everything: The only thing “covering” her ass in that dress is a tiny, black G-string that disappears between the globes of her cheeks anyway. Her honey-brown skin is dimpled but mark-free. And her narrow waist tempts him to grab it from behind.

If tonight goes as planned, backshots are definitely going to be on the agenda. Now, he’ll eventually flip her over on her back, because that face and those titties are too pretty for that position alone. 

The mental imagine is enough to make his dick twitch. If he didn’t have any sense, he’d fuck her raw. Just to make her feel every inch and vein, and for him to feel the wet heat of her walls. 

But before he gets too carried away with his own thoughts, Onyankopon blinks them away. Slipping into his jacket, he throws his backpack over a shoulder. 

“Aight, let’s go.”

Nodding, Bliss returns to his side. Ony is quick to hold out a hand, which she takes.

“When we leave, it might be some fans and paps outside. I can’t control that, I’m sorry. But, I got my people with us, so you should be good.”

Bliss nods, only able to quietly take it all in. She’s never been in the spotlight before. She only hopes that they aren’t too crazy.

“Oh, wait—“ 

Quickly, she drops his hand to search through her purse. A couple of seconds later, she’s pulling out a pair of designer shades. They’re huge with blacked out lenses, perfect for hiding her face.

Ony laughs. “You got it.”

•

As they’re just a few feet from the exit, body guards at all of their sides, Bliss anticipates Ony dropping her hand, just to keep anymore rumors at bay. 

However, as they pass through the threshold of the stadium and the cool, outside air hits them, her hand is still heavy with his.

“Ony!”

“Onyankopon, look this way!”

“Who’s this that you brought out tonight?”

“Is that your girlfriend, Ony?”

Using her purse, Bliss blocks the other side of her face, hoping the cameras don’t catch anything. Her lips tremble as she tries to keep from laughing at the obscene and invasive questions.

Their driver plucks the back door of their car open—a Rolls Royce. Ony lets go of her hand to let her in first. 

Just as he climbs in, the driver shuts the door behind them. The second his security backs away from the car, paparazzi and a few fans close-in on the vehicle, trying to snap pictures through the tinted windows.

“Wow,” Bliss laughs, breathlessly. She pulls the large shades off of her face, allowing him to seeing her beautiful face.

“My bad ‘bout that. Should’ve prepared you more.”

“It was actually tamer than I thought,” she smiles.

“Shit, my bad. Ain’t know you had it like that.” 

She only laughs at his joke, and he can only think about how much he likes the sound.

As the driver pulls off, heading towards Onyankopon’s hotel, Bliss opens up her camera. She records a couple of clips here and there of herself in the car, careful to keep Ony out of it.

It’s cute, he thinks, how she doesn’t try to take advantage of such a moment. Even more, it allows him to worry less about putting a guard up; He pulls out his phone.

On Twitter and TikTok, he catches posts of his concert, liking and reposting his favorite ones. All of the love from his fans makes his chest swell with pride.

ATL definitely showed out tonight. A contender with Chicago, for sure.

Shutting his phone off, Ony drops it into his lap and leans back in his seat. His gaze is attracted to the woman beside him.  

In the low lighting, she’s gorgeous. As the driver narrowly avoids the greater part of a pothole in the street, the car is unstable for a second or two.

In that time, his eyes fall to her chest, seeing how it bounces even under the confines of her dress.

It triggers multiple images in his brain—memories of her past streams.

Finally shutting off her phone, Bliss does a quiet sigh as she pushes her hair over one shoulder, exposing more of her upper half. 

Blinking, she finally takes a look at him, and they make eye contact. Off of instinct, she laughs nervously.

“Hi.”

He smiles, showing off his grills. “Hey.”

She rolls her eyes, shaking her head lazily. So oblivious to just how impatient he is for her.

A date with Onyankopon.

She, Bliss, is on a date with The Onyankopon. Never did she think that would be her reality.

Before they arrived, he did just as promised—stopping by his hotel to get ready. He had her stay in the car, yet he definitely didn’t make her wait too long.

When he got back into the car, keeping his backpack at his feet, he smelled heavenly. His cologne was arousing—something about a good smelling man really just does it for her.

His outfit seemed to match the vibe she had went for: a brown Miu Miu leather and sheepskin jacket with snakeskin and flowers over the shoulders. His pants are a basic black, baggy fit jean with chains dangling from a pocket. His jewelry, of course, is silver.

And without a durag, his shiny waves were out for all to see.

There’s no doubt, he’d chosen the fanciest restaurant out here. It was a two-level establishment, and they have the entire second floor to themselves.

Just three of Ony’s security personnel guard the entrance and exit to the staircase. It’s quiet up here, yet peaceful. However, Bliss feels quite awkward, as all of the attention is on her.

They had gotten through appetizers before the real conversation began. Well, really Ony had gone through it. After a show like that, it’s no wonder that he’s worked up an appetite. 

Bliss picked at the food here and there, careful not to get full too fast. She also is still nervous.

“What you do earlier today? Before my show.”

Swallowing her sip of the mixed drink she had ordered, Bliss presses a hand to her chest.

“Just some shopping. This is my first time in Atlanta, so I wanted to take advantage of the malls.” She laughs quietly. “I hope your driver didn’t mind.”

Rubbing at his chin hairs, he glances at her purse set off to the side of the table. It’s crisp and the color is well saturated. There’s not an inch of the bag frayed or faded.

“You got this today?”

She follows his gaze. “Yeah,” she says nervously.

He hums. “How much you pay for it?”

She shrugs. “About 6k.”

He smirks to himself, still eyeing the bag. “That’s light … you want it in cash?”

Her eyes almost bulge out of her head. “What? I don’t—“

“If you don’t take the cash, I’ma find a way to get it to you. So quit all’at stuttering, humble shit.”

His voice is calm, quiet too. Which only astounds her, because there’s nothing calm about someone offering her six grand.

But, she’s not slick. Even as her mouth hangs open, he spots the hint of a smile on her stretched lips.

“It’s … I don’t need it, Ony.”

“Shit, I know.” Huffing out a breath of amusement, he smirks down at her. “But you want it, so just take it.”

She looks off to the side, her hair falling in her face before she pushes it over her shoulder for the umpteenth time tonight.

“Y’know, I knew ‘bout you for a minute.”

That stops her in her tracks. 

Her Instagram profile is that of the typical IG model—sponsorships, the occasional risky photo, but overall, pretty moderate.

How long had he known about her page? Was he stalking her profile like she’d done his? Why only now say something?

Her heart races. All of these questions she wants to ask—she opens her mouth to do so.

“Yeah, you cute on ‘em live streams.” He continues rubbing at his chin, still eyeing her.

And as those words left his mouth, her own closes.

Her career as a cam-girl isn’t in the spotlight. It’s no well-kept secret, nor is her page really even hard to find. Still, it’s always jarring when she has to come face-to-face with that in reality.

“W-what?“

Her voice is quiet. The shock on her face is quite apparent, too.

“I catch ‘em when I can.” He sits back in his chair and shrugs.

She knows it’s greedy, but if that’s how she gets her money, then so be it: her streams are only accessible to those subbed to her highest tier on her cam-girl page.

“Oh … my God,” she whispers, putting a hand over her mouth. 

He cracks a smile, a small chuckle falling out past his lips. 

“How long did you—“ She stops herself, looking at him with wide eyes.

“Couple months,” he says, like it’s no big deal. 

Her stomach drops to her ass. And as a new thought emerges in her head, her stomach threatens to fall out of her body.

“What’s your username?”

She almost didn’t even want to ask. Onyankopon can only laugh.

“C’mon, now. Y’know who I am.”

She fears she does. He doesn’t need to say it:

onLyONE1

Falling back in her chair, Bliss covers her face as she groans into her hands.

“Shit was obvious, too—“

“Stop, please!” She laughs, shyly. Pulling her hands away from her face, she reveals a soft pout on her lips. “I can’t believe you saw that,” she whines.

Is it crazy that his eyes seem to sparkle as he smiles? “What? Your body?”

“No! Well—kinda. I mean me crushing over you!”

Now, he’s practically cackling. And Bliss’ face burns with embarrassment.

Calming himself down, Ony sighs. “Relax, I thought it was cute.”

She gives him a weak glance, immediately looking away. 

“I can’t believe this.” She groans. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

He shakes his head. “That’s federal. I wasn’t even gon’ say nothing, ‘til I found out you was a fan—“

“Ugh,” she looks away, a scowl on her lips. “Don’t do that.”

“You right, my fault,” he chuckles. “A supporter,” he corrects.

“Thank you.”

He hums. “But, that shit was sexy, though.” He shrugs. “So, I had to fly you out here, see you in person.”

When she regains the courage to look him in the eyes, she feels small in her seat. His eye contact is unwavering.

“And get you all to myself.” He scoffs as he runs his eyes over her upper body. “Couldn’t stand you paying attention to all them broke ass niggas.”

His lips frown with thinly veiled disgust. It almost makes her laugh. On the other hand, the statement as a whole makes her tummy flutter.

She hates to admit it, but a possessive man will always be her weakness.

“I’ll double what I gave you, just to get you for tonight.”

“I … Ony…“ 

The offer is tempting, real tempting. But, can she really do this? The whole 'pay-for-pussy' thing?

He senses her apprehension. Wordlessly, he reaches down by his foot.

The low whine of a zipper catches her ears. Before she can question it, three, fat stacks of rubber-banded hundreds are dropped onto the table. Right before her widened eyes.

He pockets his hands, leaning back in his chair once more. “I matched you for the bag, too.” He nods to the stack.

She’s breathless. All of this money, it’s making her head spin. “O-Ony—“

Her resolve is cracking, he can tell. And this has got to be his favorite part about having money—the power it gives him. He widens his legs underneath the table, feeling himself grow stiff already.

“I’ma selfish ass nigga. I know that. And if I see something I want, I’ma get it. All I really need is one night … but, if you fucking with me, I’ll keep you put up.”

Her brain attempts to formulate a coherent thought, yet nothing comes up. This sounds too good to be true.

But, her mind can’t deny what’s in front of her. And, the idea of him spending so much just to have her—even for a night—only gets her wetter by the second.

He stares at her, patiently awaiting an answer he already knows he’ll get.

But, just to get it out of her faster, he turns up the heat: reaching back into his bag, Onyankopon pulls out another fat stack, placing it on top of the others.

Like magic, Bliss finds her mouth moving before she can even really think twice about it.

She’s giggly off the drinks, but she isn’t the only one. As Onyankopon continues ordering more and more alcohol to the table, she can see that he, too, is loosening up.

He’s talking more, a tad bit more touchy, and even bolder in his flirtatiousness.

She likes it.

Another thing about her and alcohol; She gets talkative. Part of her brain is screaming at her to put a sock in it, judging by Ony’s demeanor:

He’s sat back with an arm thrown over the back of the chair, slowly chewing as he stares at her with low eyes. In his hand, his fingers slowly twist a balled up napkin.

But, she just can’t stop talking. Her mouth is running a mile a minute—she doesn’t even remember what she’s talking about. 

However, all of her spouting comes to a stop when Ony finally sits up. Looking elsewhere, he throws the napkin down on the table.

Her eyes dart around. “What happened?”

Pulling out a crisp, black card from his wallet, he snaps it down on the cloth-table. “Ready to go.”

“Oh…”

Oh shit.

It takes almost no time at all for the waiter to take Ony’s card. In the blink of an eye, they’re standing on their feet, ready to leave.

“Don’t forget your cash.”

For a split second, Bliss is confused. But, when she follows the direction of where he points to, she’s quickly reminded.

Those large stacks of cash he’d pulled out for her earlier were sitting so casually to the side of the table, next to her purse. Like it wasn’t money itself. And a lot of it.

She slips her purse over her wrist before scooping them up in her arms.

“Yeah, there you go,” Ony nods, smiling at her.

They follow his security team to the elevator. All the while, he’s got an arm thrown over her slender shoulders.

Only two of his staff follow them into the moderately sized shaft. As the two, burly men stand in front of them, hands clasped before them in similar fashion, Ony’s arm remains around her neck, keeping her back pressed against his front.

And, boy, does it make her dizzy. Not only that, but her body buzzes with a renewed sense of energy. 

Everything about him, physically, is all encompassing. His cologne is so strong that it’s all she smells. The weight of his body isn’t stifling, but grounding. Even keeping her warm. 

And as her body practically melts into his, the fat of her ass is smushed against his front. 

The press of his print, which happens to lie perfectly between both cheeks, is impossible to ignore. She won’t even bother shifting around to get comfortable. Instead, she succumbs to his hold—too easily—and releases a shaky sigh.

Turns out her guess was right, he is big.

When they step out of the restaurant, yet again do they have to shield their faces from the barrage of cameras and flashes surrounding them.

This time, they run to the car, hopping in as silly laughter pours from them. God, they’re so drunk.

“C’mere … so fuckin’ far.” Ony seems to breathe out the words.

Even in the darkness, the look of lust is written all over him. It’s even swimming around in the air. Her eyes do a full sweep of his body, noting how wide his thick legs are spread. 

Like a minx, she slinks over from her seat and right onto the one he presents to her. 

“Mmh,” he hums, immediately snaking his arms around her small waist and dragging her up higher into his lap. 

She giggles, feeling all of him beneath her.

“You smell good.” He mumbles the words into the warm skin of her neck.

Bliss bends her head down and even sweeps all of her hair over the other shoulder to give him more access to her.

The kisses he lays there are hot and wet, pressed into her warm and soft skin. She shivers. One of his hands press into her lower stomach, keeping her from moving too much.

The pulse between her legs has grown into an ache. Every clench her pussy does is almost painful with how strong it is, even worse now that he’s hard beneath her.

God, why did she pick such a long dress? 

Without thinking, she grounds down onto him, weakly. Onyankopon’s other hand travels upwards the middle of her abdomen. 

She doesn’t focus on his lingering touch. She can’t. Not when he’s sucking a pretty bruise into the side of her neck. Her breathing quickens, and slow, tiny pants leave through her parted lips.

His traveling hand slides up between the valley of her boobs and anchors around her neck just as he lifts his mouth off of her. She bites down on her bottom lip, yet another giggle slips through her teeth.

“Thin-ass dress.” He tightens his grip around her neck. “Might as well have not worn anything.”

His deep voice and his rough hand has her pussy leaking into her panties. He lifts his hips by a fraction, and it pushes a small moan from her.

“Freaky ass lil’ bitch. Got ya titties all out—who’s it for?”

Her eyes flutter shut and she swallows thickly. 

He squeezes another moan out of her. “Hm?”

“Y-you.”

He chuckles. “Got my dick all hard, starin’ at ‘em.”

His hand finally moves, and the skin on her neck is cold. She misses it. But, that’s forgotten when both of his hands cup her heavy breasts.

Bliss arches her back, pushing them further into his warm hands. And, never one to refuse a gift, Ony squeezes them. 

Her body is weak as he plays with them, damn-near juggling them in his hands. And as he laughs, clearly amused by her body’s reaction, she can only try to keep her moans at bay.

“So pretty,” he mumbles before pressing a a kiss to the side of her face. “Pretty ass titties.”

His hands still, only cupping them. Then, his thumbs begin slow circles her pierced nipples through the dress’s thin fabric. Its tiny netting does nothing to shield her body against the gentle caress.

She turns her head to the side, her mouth open and desperate for something to plug it before an embarrassingly loud moan leaves it.

And like her knight in shining armor, Onyankopon indulges her in an open-mouth kiss. He wastes no time, sucking on her tongue.

Around her piercings, his fingers pinch and pull at her nipples. Bliss can’t help it, moaning into his mouth. Her hips rock against his, desperate to finally get on his dick.

When he finally pulls back, they can both breathe. And it’s the first time that they notice music playing through the car’s speakers. 

“Mmh, fuck,” he sighs. Ony sits back in his seat. 

Breathlessly, Bliss fixes her hair, trying to distract herself from the way her body was lit on fire from just kisses and fondling.

Ony looks around the back cavern of the car, quickly finding just what he was looking for: his bottle of Don. It’s stuffed in the side pocket of the car door, calling out for him.

Securing an arm around her waist, Ony leans forward to pick it up out of the car door’s side pocket. When he’s sits back, he pulls the top off the bottle and wastes no time taking a sip.

Busying herself, Bliss grabs her phone from its spot in the cupholder. She opens up Instagram and holds her phone up to snap a couple of clips of herself.

The near darkness of the vehicle is perfect, showing not too much nor too little for the camera to see. And every last clip stays in her drafts.

Still, she’s careful not to get Ony’s face in it, only doing close ups of her face as the music plays.

When Onyankopon finally pulls the bottle away from his face, he sees what she’s doing.

As she records another clip, she zooms in on her body, caressing herself and even showing off her pierced nipples through the dress.

A quick thought puts a smirk on his face. He interrupts, bringing his hand into frame as he squeezes one of her boobs. The ring on his pinky finger glistens under the cameras low flash.

With a surprised gasp, she cuts the clip short.

“Keep recordin’,” he says in her ear, gruffly.

“Why?” She chuckles. “You wanna be seen?”

He scoffs quietly. “That’s cute.” Shifting his hips, he pushes his dick harder against her, just for a bit of spite. “This just for you, though. Don’t post nothing.”

His nose and lips to her neck, his voice in her ear, his hands on her body—she shivers.

Pressing record again. She zooms in on his hand as it gropes her yet again. Very soon after, it slides up and wraps around her neck. She stops the video.

With a giggle, she saves it to her drafts. “Should I send it to you?” She questions, tapping away on her phone.

“Nah, keep that,” he mumbles. Turning his head, Onyankopon peers out of the window, watching the city zoom past them. “Got some other shit planned.”

Thankfully, there’s no paps around. No need for them to rush into the hotel or hide their faces.

As they take their time to get out of the vehicle, Ony’s security surrounds the car.

“Wait—the money,” Bliss worries. 

She’s halfway out of the car, a hand in Ony’s clutch as he’s the one helping her out.

“Don’t trip, I’ma have my people get it for you.” 

As her feet land on the concrete ground, Onyankopon laces an arm laces around her waist, pulling her in close.

“Okay,” she hums, bringing a hand to his chest.

As she looks up into Onyankopon’s low eyes, the lust in them is undeniable. She practically shivers with excitement.

“You cold?” He chuckles, cracking a grill-decorated smile. His perfectly groomed brows even pull together.

God, she’s never noticed how perfect his face looks up close.

Dumbly, she nods, her lips stretching into a wide smile. She watches his eyes flick downward to glimpse at her lips.

“I’ma get you warm soon, right?”

“Mmh, okay.”

Shaking his head, he allows himself to smile wider as he follows his security team into the hotel. 

As he said, two men stay behind to clean up the money at the back of the Rolls Royce. Just for Bliss.

Onyankopon’s room is on the eleventh floor. Normally, one would think that the commute from the hotel lobby to his room—by way of elevator, of course—wouldn’t take much time.

Five minutes, max.

But to Bliss, those five minutes are feeling a lot like thirty, at the very least.

While they waited for the elevator, Onyankopon was all over her. Large hands pulling her in and keeping her close—gripping her ass, too.

She’d whine his name, pushing her face into his chest. Because with the little bit of stragglers lingering in the lobby, there were still wandering eyes.

And he’d tell her, “Let ‘em watch,” because that’s the type of nigga he is. 

‘Rapper’ seems like a fitting title for him.

Oh, but when they finally get in the elevator? Not even his security being there was enough to keep him off of her.

He traps her against the back wall of the elevator. His large hand grasps the junction of her neck and jaw.

There’s tongue involved, far sooner than she thought there would be. But, she’s not complaining. Their heads twist as they suck on each other.

She finds herself moaning into his mouth as he applies pressure around her neck.

Bliss is barely able to pull away with the inch of breath that she was able to escape with. Both their lips are glossed over with spit—slimy and sticky. Their rushed pants quickly dry it, however. 

Before either of them can say anything, the elevator dings with the announcement of their arrival to the eleventh floor.

Only once the door to Ony’s suite shuts, is when they finally lose his security for the night. 

Bliss remains near the door, her first thought to take off her shoes. She keeps a hand on the nearby wall as she unhooks the back of her kitten heel from her foot.

It should take only ten seconds to get both shoes off. Yet, she lingers in that spot well after the time is up. Why?

Well, she’s watching him. 

Watching Onyankopon shrug that heavy jacket off of his wide shoulders and throw it down on the mini bar table. Watching him kick off his shoes. Watching him take a seat on a short leather couch, positioned in the middle of the circular shaped living room.

She isn’t quick enough; He catches her staring.

Her second heel finally drops to the ground. It makes a muted thud against the tiled floor—which is cold against her perfectly manicured feet.

With a tired sigh, Ony leans back against the couch, refusing to break eye contact. “Come.”

A faint smile makes the corner of her lips rise, and an amused scoff leaves her.

This time, Onyankopon watches her.

Watches the way her hips seem to perfectly sway—if even unintentional—with each step. Watches how her boobs bounce softly beneath the tight dress. Watches her land softly on his open lap, throwing an arm around his neck, too.

She throws her purse and phone down onto the cushion next to them, completely disregarding the objects.

Softly, he kisses his teeth, his eyes running over her body. 

“When you gon’ take this fucking dress off?”

She laughs. “When are you gonna take it off me?”

He licks his lips as he reaches behind her to slide a hand up her back, searching blindly for—he found it. 

At the top of her back, at the base of her neck, his fingers collect the small zipper and pulls. He drags it all the way down her spine, until the track stops, right above her ass.

“Now you want me to pull it off or you got that?”

Rolling her eyes, Bliss tugs at the tight sleeves of her dress, pulling her arms out. As she drags the constricting fabric down her body, her boobs spill out. 

The piercings immediately catch his attention. He resists the urge to reach out for them and touch.

Pulling back her hair, she tosses the bundles over a shoulder, allowing him to see everything. For a moment, she stands, only to pull the rest of the dress down.  

When she finally steps out of the pool of her own clothes, the only thing that covers her is that tiny ass G-string.

“Wish I could’a seen you at the show,” he tells her as she comes to sit back down on his lap.

Bliss licks her lips, looking down into his eyes. She hums, gazing at him. “I was dancing and everything.” 

“Oh, yeah?” His voice is soft and hushed, like hers. “Show me how you was dancing.”

She bites down on her lip, trying to stop her smile from growing.

He shifts beneath her, if only to pull out his phone. It’s a seamless process, how he was able to connect his phone to speakers that seem to be connected throughout the entire suite.

She almost laughs, if it weren’t for how serious he is; It’s one of Ony’s songs from his recently released EP. 

“Be my dancer,” he says in her ear, smiling wide.

She almost shivers. 

Wordlessly, she turns her back to him and puts hands on his spread knees. Leaning forward, she starts a slow whine. And Ony is all too happy to watch her ass move in circles right on his lap.

Reaching into his jeans pocket, he pulls out a rubber-banded stack, just a bit thinner than those he had at the restaurant. He pops the elastic binding all of the bills together.

The beat changes, and Bliss shakes her ass side-to-side. Ony stretches an arm over her. The quick flick of his thumb pushes fifties and hundreds fluttering over her.

Entranced by the way the fat of her ass moves, he palms one cheek with the other hand.

As he begins to rub, Bliss returns to a slow whine before dropping it in his lap, earning a grunt from him. When she lifts her ass to do it again, Ony smacks it, gripping her immediately after.

Every time, she bounces her ass harder against him. She fights the urge to stop dancing and just solely grind against him, because at this point it’s getting hard to ignore the way he’s poking through his jeans. 

Her bounces grow shorter. The pressure and friction threaten to make her eyes roll back. She’s close to moaning out.

“Shit…” He bites down on his lower lip as he grips the fat of her hip. “Sexy ass lil’ bitch,” he groans.

In all this excitement, he almost forgot what they were doing. Picking the stack back up, he resumes the money shower, allowing the rest of his bills to rain down on her.

She looks back at him over her shoulder, noting the hand in his lap, holding his belt.

Biting down on her lip, Bliss fluidly turns around to get on her knees between his legs. The fallen bills keep her skin from touching the cold tiles.

One hand is positioned on his knee. The other snakes up his other legs, heading towards the buckle of his belt.

“Oh, you wanna get nasty?” His smile is full of mischief.

She nods as she focuses on opening his pants.

“Shiiit, go ‘head.”

And he didn’t need to tell her again. 

Manicured hands pull him out of his boxers. Bliss has to take a minute to cement this moment in her brain. Her heart is pounding in his chest.

He’s heavy in her hand. The very tips of her acrylics just barely touch as she’s wrapped around him. His thickness makes her tummy stir. She can’t wait to take him.

All of those nights she’s spent in bed, imagining him buried deep in her guts—now, it won’t be a toy doing the work. It’ll be the real thing.

Leaning forward, Bliss presses a kiss to the underside of his head. Quickly, she stretches out her tongue and laves it. 

“Don’t try to be cute,” he says through gritted teeth. Immediately, a hand swabs around the back of her head to gather her bundles in a messy, yet tight ponytail. “Suck me up like you do with them toys.”

She opens her mouth wide. Carefully tucking her teeth, Bliss engulfs his entire tip. She keeps him between her tongue and the roof of her mouth, sucking.

Her pace isn’t necessarily slow, that wasn’t even her intention. But, she’s not fast enough, either.

The hand in her hair guides her, encouraging a smooth push-and-pull of her head.

He sucks in air through his teeth. “Oou, just like that. Yeah—relax that throat.”

Her hands stretch across his denim-dressed knee caps, squeezing tighter as she struggles to keep up.

There’s a soft clinch in her face, eyes watering, as she gently gags.

“M-make sure you get that shit wet—mmh. Get it messy … just like that, get my dick messy.”

His voice softly coaxes her on. The firm grip on her hair paired with his commands has her doing everything he wants, and probably more.

His pace picks up, his force getting rougher. And even beneath the thick fans of her lash extensions, he can see her eyes rolling back.

Her gags are heavier, louder. His dick stabs her throat, causing wet clicks every time he touches the back of it. 

He groans out, his stomach clinching, as he feels her tighten around him.

“Sshit!” He laughs, her choking music to his ears. With a hiccup, a large rivulets of spit leak from her puckered lips and drips down his dick. “Yeaaah, just like that!”

As he chuckles over her, her pussy bares down on nothing. Her body is obsessed with the way he sounds.

It’s messy—so messy. Frothy bubbles of spit and cum gather at the rounded corners of her mouth. Thick globs hang from her lips, some of it even rolls down her neck. But all of it drips onto her bare chest, sticking to smooth skin.

And she doesn’t intend to do anything about it. The only goal she aims to accomplish at the moment is taking this dick without throwing up all over it.

Ony hooks a hand on the underside of her jaw as the other only tightens around her hair. All movement of her head is halted and the brief moment of stillness allows her to breathe properly—through her nose, of course.

“You gon’ swallow?”

“Mhm,” she nods eagerly. The fragile hum crackled as it left her.

Ony gazes down into her tear-filled eyes. He notes the mess clouding the bottom of her pretty face

“Sure?”

Her muffled ‘yes’ almost makes him laugh. She can hardly speak around his dick.

“Aight then.”

This time, he’s driving his hips forward, face-fucking her. Bliss lurches forward, hacking as he drills her throat. Yet she doesn’t tell him to stop. Nor does she pull away or even tap his thigh.

“C’mon,” he grunts, the deepest scowl on his face. “Take this dick, take this … f-fucking dick.”

Her body goes pliant as she allows him to use her face like a toy. However, her lips remain tight around him. She doesn’t even try to keep the spit from falling out of her mouth.

The longer he continues, his dick glides in and out of her lips. It’s all so slippery, she gags less and less with every thrust.

There is no announcement of his arrival. Only one more brutal thrust before he presses his hips to her face. They occasionally twitch as he shoots thick ropes of cum down her throat.

She almost chokes. Almost. It’s difficult to swallow his load around his dick, she lets out a gag or two.

When he finally drags himself out of her mouth, webs of spit and cum stretch between his tip and her swollen lips. She heaves, his hanging dick still in her face.

Too focused on gathering her breath, Bliss doesn’t see as he pulls his shirt off.

“Lift ya head,” he says, a soft hand cradling the back of hers.

Bliss looks up, staring into his eyes as he uses his Coogi shirt to wipe the muck off of her face.

His brows are furrowed as he concentrates on cleaning her off. “Yeah … can’t have all this shit drying on ya skin.” He even goes as far as to get her neck and chest. “Aight … there. You good now.” 

He pats her cheek with a smile, earning a giggle from the woman on her knees.

“Thank you.”

He outstretches a hand, helping her up on her two feet.

“It’s nothing,” he says softly. Using his soiled shirt, he wipes down his dick and inner thighs. And when he’s done, he tosses it aside.

As Ony is pulling up his pants, his dark eyes roaming her bare body, he gets an idea—eager to have her participate in it.

“You tryna smoke?”

•

The blunt shakes between her unsteady fingers. She doesn’t get a good inhale in—can hardly even pass it back to him.

Onyankopon does her a favor, taking the blunt back as he pushes his dick back in.

“Oou—shit.” Her shaky groan is music to his ears.

Holding the thick blunt between his lips, he takes his time bottoming out, both hands on her hips.

Her pussy flutters around him, her stomach stirring. This is the deepest he’s gotten, feeling his tip smushed against her cervix. Her head’s dizzy.

“Fuuuck, Onyy—“ A weak hand, hesitant in nature, cradles her lower tummy,

“I’m deep?”

“Mh—yes.” Her breath hitches.

He lifts a hand from her skin to pluck the blunt from between his lips. A thin cloud of smoke puffs from his nose.

“You could handle it,” he rasps. 

The slowly burning blunt dries his throat out, almost makes it scratchy. And yet the wetness between Bliss’ thighs makes it easy to forget the minor discomfort.

A shaky gasp slips from her mouth as he begins a slow stroke. It’s no surprise to her when—even as he’s the one fucking her—he pulls her back by the hips. The quiet clap of her ass against his pelvis and thighs cheers him on. It encourages him.

He wants her to be louder. He wants to hear more.

One minute he’s delivering slow, deep strokes, letting her body sing. Her pussy’s got a vice-like grip around him as it creams around him. Before long, she’s gripping the sheets tight and her legs tremble. 

Blunt be damned; Onyankopon drops it onto the floor in favor of focusing on the woman below him.

Her moans are loud and guttural as his dick punches her stomach from the inside. Even as they’re loud, the bed’s pristine, white sheets weaken the sounds.

And that just isn’t doing it for him.

“Nah, c’mere—“

Fingers grip her hair to yank her face out of the sheets. Her neck strains as her head is angled so far back, that she catches sight of something she’d been too horny to even see before: the mirror above the bed.

She’s got a clear eye-view of herself getting fucked as roughly as she’s always dreamed. It makes her clench down on him harder, she even whimpers seeing it. In such a fucked out state, it’s a drug seeing the way her body ricochets against his.

A small part of her is embarrassed seeing the faces she makes, she’s out of it. Yet, she loves it all the same. With Onyankopon as another set of eyes, she loves it even more—being watched while he turns her out.

Moan after moan pours from her lips until her throat is sore, and even then she still continues to yell at the top of her lungs about how good his dick is.

“Yes—yes! So … fuckin’ big—oh fuck!”

It’s impossible  to keep her grip on reality. Her knees can barely hold her up. The sweet pain in her lower stomach has her eyes rolling back. Ony tugs at her roots harder.

“Know you see yourself,” he grunts. “Know you see how I’m fuckin’ you.”

His smirk and breathless voice is just the cherry on top—she trembles as she squirts on him. But her release doesn’t make him slow down. In fact, Onyankopon goes harder.

“Mhm … cream on my shit. Squirt on my shit—drown me.”

Every time she tries to look at their reflection her eyes either crossed or she just can’t keep them open. All of her strength is reduced to nothing.

Onyankopon’s strokes, which hold an ungodly amount of force behind them, shakes the woman to her core. It knocks the air from her chest. 

A choked noise followed by heavy breathing is all that her body can muster. Seeing his response, Ony does it again, loving how it leaves her breathless and with no sound. 

He does it again. And again. And again. The clapping of skin is deafening to Bliss’s ears. Her vision blurs and all her body can do is focus on one thing at a time. All sounds begin to fade out. She can only spotlight the repeating jabs to her insides.

Every time she tightens around him, he finds it harder to hold back. But he keeps up. The faster he goes, the more sloppy and less accurate he becomes. 

As they continue on it doesn’t matter, Bliss is so close to another release, that it would only take a couple of these blind thrusts for her to cum again. 

“Shiiit!”

“What? It’s not enough?” He pulls out, and quickly thrusts back in, feeling triumphant when she yelps out.

“T-too mu—much,” she hisses.

He pulls out and she gasps, her body clenching around nothing. He takes himself in his hand, rubbing the head against her lips. He smears her cream around with his latex-covered tip.

She’s been stretched open, making it all too easy for him to see the creamy pinkness typically hidden behind brown lips. It’s a sight for sure, one that he can’t look away from as she pushes out some of her previous release.

However, he hadn’t realized that he was pressed for time; Bliss whines out, pushing back on him. Even her cunt clenches down, like it missed the fullness.

“C’mon,” she mumbles into the sheets.

He laughs. “You was just crying it was ’too much.’”

A brief moment of strength strikes her as she pulls her head out of the pillows to look back at him. “Put it in, Ony!”

With little to no effort, on account of how wet she was, he slips right back in, granting her that satisfying feeling of being stuffed. 

She moans sweetly and drops her head into the sheets, a long groan moving past her lips and he rolled his hips. The feeling of him stroking her insides, so good, better than good. 

It was great, and her eyes rolling back were evidence of that. He pulls out and pushes back in, repeating that movement at a fast pace. She sank her teeth into her lip, trying to stop herself from being too loud.

Bringing her hips up higher, Onyankopon achieves a better angle. She was getting drunk off his strokes, as well as the sound of him blowing her back out.

“Oh—oh… God,” she drawls.

The pleasure is overwhelming and she scoots up, trying to lessen the hits to her guts.

“Oh, so you runnin’? I thought you wanted me to beat it up?”

He pulls her back and holds onto her shoulders. Applying pressure, he uses that leverage to repeatedly bring her back on him, his thrusts hitting harder and deeper..

“Oh fuuuck,” she groaned and gasps, shutting her eyes to stop them from rolling back.

“You confusin’ me, mama.”

He’s reveling in the tight, warm and wet hug her body offers. He looks down, noting how her her body coats his dick in her cum.

“Shit, shit, oh fuck,” she whines.

He smacks her ass and keeps going.

“Oh shit…” he groans. “So… fuckin’ good,” he says under his breath, closing his eyes and getting lost in the feeling.

Bliss’s whimpers bring him back. Her thighs shake and her arch comes undone. 

In a flash, the desire to see her face again hits him like a freight train. And what other choice does he have but to do something about it?

It’s hard, but Onyankopon pulls out. Using what’s left of his strength, he flips her over on her back and drags her body to the edge of the bed. He’s wordless in his actions, she’ll see his point very soon. 

But, for now, Bliss sits up on her elbows to watch with tired confusion as he moves her.

Strong hands grabs her thighs and pull her flush against his front, eliciting a yelp from her. Instinctively, she wraps her legs around his waist, giving him the perfect opportunity to lift her hips completely off the bed.

“What the fuck?” She laughs, her fatigue so apparent in her hoarse voice. 

She has to make a great effort to hold herself up. Of course, Ony holds her, but that doesn’t mean she isn’t doing some type of work. 

“Trying something different. You good with this?”

She doesn’t think she’s ever been in such a position. It excites her, makes her giddy. It even brings a renewed sense of excitement and energy to her body. Her hair falls in her face as she gives a loose nod.

The muscles in his bicep flex as he transfers all of her weight to one hand, busying the other as he grabs himself. Just like this, she’s like a five-star meal placed before him, ready for him to demolish. 

He gives himself two quick tugs before aligning with her weeping center and slowly pushing back in.

The stretch is wonderful every time, evidenced by the way Bliss throws her head back.

He fucks into her, holding onto her hips so tight that his thumbs press against her hip bones. She writhes, and her legs damn near squeeze the life out of him as he hits spots in her that she didn’t even think to be possible.

“Keep squeezin’ me like that—yeah,” he groans out, throwing his head back as well.

Her moans seem to have run out despite her mouth hanging wide open. She’s completely silent, unable to scream as he digs her out.

“Uh—fuck, I’m ‘bout to c-cum—” Ony’s resolve seems to be cracking as his voice waivers with his moans.

Her legs tremble and her pretty toes curl so tight that her feet almost cramp up.

A burning heat flashes throughout his body as his orgasm catches him by surprise. His mouth drops open and his muscles tense before he leans down, dropping them back onto the mattress as he pushes his face into her neck. 

Senselessly, Onyankopon ruts into her, riding out his nut until he stops filling the condom. The overstimulation pushes Bliss over the edge as well. 

Her orgasm comes crashing down around them as her pussy clenches down on him, only wetting his dick further. She hugs him close, keeping him from pulling out too soon.

“Awe fuck,” he mumbles. As his lips had moved against the skin of her neck, it tickles her.

She giggles.

“Fuck you laughing for?” 

She can hear the smile in his voice.

“Tickles,” she breathes out. Shifting beneath him, she can still feel him inside of her, softening by the minute.

His chest rumbles with a deep sigh. “This shit got me … wantin’ to pass out.”

She hums in agreement, slowly dragging a hand up and down his back. His body is hot, a bit sweaty, too. She doesn’t doubt that hers feels the same way to him.

Movements filled with fatigue, Onyankopon pushes himself up to look down at her. Her makeup is definitely fucked up, courtesy of tonight’s events. And yet, he can’t stop himself from smiling when he stares at her.

“What?” She laughs, growing just a little bit shy.

“You better than a fuckin’ blunt after a show.”

She breaks into a full on laugh, giving him a much clearer view of her cute gap. “Thanks?”

“Nah,”  he says, shaking his head. “I definitely gotta keep you around.”

And even if he didn’t want to, Bliss doesn’t think she’d let him go.

…

Taglist -> @wintrrxxo @vibewshyla @icanmakethedickstandup @toji-dabi-wife @genea-myers @whoareyouuuo @nova2kss

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[latanyalove]

When You're Injured

Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4

This may have a part 2 so if you want a continuous of this, please support me by liking, reblogging and commenting this!

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ 

Trafalgar D Water Law was the captain of the Heart Pirates and a former member of the Seven Warlords of the Sea. Law was a highly intelligent and cunning pirate, often outsmarting his opponents and using his wit to his advantage in a fight. He was also known to be a master strategist, capable of coming up with elaborate plans to defeat his enemies.

So why were you, one of his crew members, trying to hide the fact that you were dead sick?

The crew had taken a toll after being ambushed by a carefully calculated group of pirates. Even though they won the battle, people were still heavily injured and needed to be taken care of. The crew had been pushed to their limits and the captain was already doing all he could to nurse most of them back to health.

Your injury didn't seem severe compared to some of the other members of the crew who had sustained more serious wounds, including broken bones and deep lacerations.

In comparison, your injury was just a graze, and so you felt it would be better to hide it from the captain and not add to his already heavy workload.

Law looked around the deck, his gaze taking in each crew member. "Is everyone ready?" he asked, his voice steady but concerned.

The crew nodded in agreement, some with a slight grimace of pain as they shifted to get comfortable. "Yes, Captain," they replied in unison. You also said "Yes, Captain," trying to make your voice sound as steady as possible while your arm throbbed painfully in your grip.

Law looked around the deck one more time before speaking. "We're going to make camp on the island that we've anchored by," he said. "Get some rest, and I'll make a plan in the morning."

With a collective sigh of relief, the crew members cheered in appreciation of not having to move for more. Everyone was exhausted and the thought of having to move further was daunting. They welcomed the chance to rest and regain their strength, even if it was just for a few hours.

After the plan was laid out, the crew split up into two groups. One group would stay behind and set up camp while the other group was able to explore the island. The group that stayed behind worked quickly and efficiently to get the camp set up. Meanwhile, the other group was able to explore the island and enjoy its natural beauty.

You and Ikkaku were part of the group exploring the island, and were both excited to be able to take in the sights and sounds of the environment. You were also happy to have an opportunity to take your mind off of your injury and get away from the hustle and bustle of the submarine. You and Ikkaku walked around the island, taking in the sights, sounds, and smells of the environment.

Ikkaku looked over at you with a concerned expression. "Are you sure you weren't injured?" she asked as she walked. You shook your head and smiled.

"No, I'm fine," you said, trying to sound more confident than you felt.

"That's good," she said. "We don't need any more injuries on top of what we already have."

You nodded in agreement, feeling a rush of relief that your injury had gone unnoticed.

Both of you came across a patch of bright flowers, and you were immediately fascinated. You were able to identify half of them with just a glance, but for the ones you didn't know, you quickly plucked them and placed them in your bag.

Ikkaku smiled as you carefully collected the flowers, noting your interest in the environment around you. You smiled back, feeling a sense of satisfaction that you were able to recognize and appreciate the beauty of the island.

Seeing how enthralled you were with the flowers, Ikkaku decided to mess with you.

Ikkaku glanced over at you with a mischievous grin. "So, what do you think of the Captain?" she asked. You blushed, feeling your cheeks heat up. "He's... he's a good leader," you said, trying to avoid the conversation and focus on the flowers.

Ikkaku chuckled. "Come on, admit it," she said. "You have a crush on him!" You shook your head, feeling a little embarrassed.

"No, I don't," you said, but you couldn't stop the smile that spread across your face.

Ikkaku laughed. "It's okay, I won't tell anyone," she said. You laughed and rolled your eyes, feeling relieved that the conversation had shifted to something a bit less serious.

Ikkaku was right though. Even though you were the most recent to join the Heart Pirates, you were quick to befriend Law and quickly developed a strong bond with him.

You didn't care if it was because of your devil fruit powers or not; you were quickly enamored with the Heart Pirates and grateful for the opportunity to join them.

You had eaten the Yume Yume no Mi (Dream-Dream Fruit), which gave you the ability to shoot a cosmic ray to make people fall asleep for an desired amount of time or fall sleep so deep that they can die. You had seen first-hand how powerful your ability was, and you had to be extra careful to not let your powers get out of control.

Law was intrigued by your devil fruit power and was eager to learn more about it. After some research, he discovered that you could also use your powers to control people's emotions, but with a catch - a flower was needed in order to do so.

For example, with a lavender flower, you can make someone feel calm and relaxed. The specific emotion that the flower induces depends on the type of flower used. A rose can make someone feel more passionate or in love, while a chrysanthemum can make someone feel more joy or happiness.

With the discovery of your devil fruit's power, you and Law became even closer. Whenever Law would get overwhelmed by the amount of paperwork, you would use your power to calm him down with a lavender flower. Law was amazed at how effective your power was, and how it could be used to help him manage his stress.

Law knew exactly when to give you a subtle glance when he was arguing with someone, like telepathy, "Use it on me now before I cut this person in two," would transfer to your mind and you would quickly wave a flower at him to help him relax before he lost his temper.

He was grateful for your devil fruit powers and the calming effect it had on him in those intense moments, allowing him to get back to a more level-headed state.

But these recent days, you could feel your heart beat faster when he would look at you or when he would lean towards you to whisper what flower to use against the enemy. You were surprised by these feelings and although you tried to keep them under control, the more you were around Law, the more your heart seemed to flutter with anticipation.

You knew that you were developing feelings for him, but you were unsure of how to act on them. You were scared of the consequences of your actions and you were hesitant to express your emotions.

You knew that your devil fruit power could help Law, but you also knew that it could not help you express how you truly felt.

You carefully examined the petals of the flower, trying to distract yourself from the thoughts that had been running through your head. You knew that your feelings for Law were strong, but you were not sure if he felt the same way. You were scared to make a move and risk ruining the friendship that you had built over the years.

With a sigh, you looked up from the flower and replied, "Me and Law are just... friends."

Ikkaku replied, "Are you sure about that? Because the way he looks at you says something else. It's like he can't keep his eyes off you. I think he may have feelings for you too."

You were shocked by Ikkaku's words and couldn't believe what she was suggesting. You had never considered the possibility that Law could have feelings for you, and you were left speechless.

You felt your cheeks heat up and you quickly looked away, not wanting to face the truth. You felt a mixture of emotions, ranging from joy to fear, and you were unsure of how to proceed.

"Let's separate to get more materials," you said, trying to come up with an excuse to be alone and process your thoughts.

You knew that the material was important, but you also wanted to take this opportunity to think about what Ikkaku said and to figure out how you could proceed in this situation.

She nodded and went off to the left, while you headed to the right. You took a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves and clear your head.

As you walked, you thought about what Ikkaku had said and your feelings for Law. You were unsure of what to do, but you knew that whatever you did, it would have to be carefully considered.

Suddenly, you felt a sharp pain from your injured arm that brought you back to reality. The pain was sharp and pulsing, radiating from your arm and throughout your body. You winced and gritted your teeth, trying to bear the pain.

You felt a tightness in your chest and your breathing became shallow as you tried to cope with the pain. You felt a wave of nausea wash over you and your vision started to blur, but you forced yourself to take a few deep breaths and focus on the situation.

What was going on? Why had the pain suddenly become so intense? Was this pain connected to the emotions you were feeling?

As the pain intensified, you felt yourself beginning to lose consciousness. You felt your body swaying and you put out a hand to steady yourself, but it was too late. You felt yourself slipping away as the world around you started to blur and fade.

You tried to fight it, but you felt yourself slowly sinking into a deep fog. You heard a distant voice, but it was too faint to make out what it was saying. With one last effort, you tried to open your eyes, but you could not.

Darkness descended and you felt yourself slipping away into unconsciousness.

"Oh my! You will be my wife!" A familiar voice stated happily, "Oh, this must be fate! I knew the moment I saw you that you were the one for me. I can't believe I've finally found you again, my one and only true love!"

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ 

[miyuhpapayuh]

sex entry #3

“Turn around,” he demands as she turns her back towards him, bending over on the bed and arching her ass high in the air.

One hand swats down on both cheeks, before steadying at the base of her back, rubbing his dick through her folds with the other.

“You ready, baby?”

“Yesss,” she purrs, rocking against him.

Finally sinking into her, they both groan at the feeling as he begins rocking his hips.

“Slow, baby,” she whispered, biting into her bottom lip.

“I got you, peanut,” he said, grunting as he continued stroking into her, patiently waiting as she opened up to receive all of him.

Adding a dribble of spit to their mixture of juices, he pushes back into her more easily, turning her pants into sweet moans.

“Oh my god,”

“Mm, oh my god, what?” He asks, picking up the pace.

“It f-feels so good, baby!”

Gripping her hips, his strokes get deeper, filling her to the brim. She fists the sheets, leaning away from him.

“Where you goin’?”

“Fuck, too much,” she squeals, feeling those tingles rush up her back as he leans over her.

“Take this dick, baby,” he commands above her, watching her smush her face into the pillow beneath her.

“Fuckkkk, I'm gonna… I'm gonna,”

“Ooh, what? You cummin’ on this dick, baby?”

“Yessss,” she whines, reaching back to grab at him, “don't stop, don't stop!”

Pressing her arm against her back, he uses it as leverage to pull her back onto him harder, his groans matching her breathless moans.

“Oh! Fuck!”

“Give it to me,”

“Ohhh, fuckkkk,” her body quakes from the force of her orgasm, almost falling flat to the bed, had it not been for his hold on her.

“There you go, baby.. there you go,” he praises.

Still digging like she asked him to, his dick sloshes in and out of her wetness, his eyes glued to the waves her ass is making.

Again, leaning up from her bent position, she tries to match his rhythm and throw her ass back.

“Mmm, damn baby,” he moans, releasing her arm to grab the front of her throat, pulling her back to him every time.

All her moans and pleads get caught in her chest at the sensation burning through her core.

Her tiny gasps make him harder for her, damn near spearing her and she's taking it like a pro.

“How you feel?”

“So g-goooood,” she smiles like he can see her, squeezing the hand at her neck.

Pushing her back into position, he hits her spot head on, loving the way she grips him.

“Mmhm, keep that pussy right there,” he says, stroking right where she needs him.

“Uh! Yes, yes, yes,” she chants, digging her hands back into the sheets, her mouth wide open, eyes rolled back.

“Oooh, I feel it baby. Cum on that dick,”

“Oh my god!” She cries out, feeling her orgasm rush through her as if on his command, making her leak down her leg.

“Right there, please right there,” she deliriously whines, reaching back to scratch at his thighs.

“Get that shit,”

“C-cumming— I'm c-cumming, again!”

“I ain't say stop,” he teases, smirking like she can see him, “keep cummin’ on this dick,” he slaps her ass, hard, “you better keep cummin’, you hear me?”

“Oooh, yesss! I hear you, daddy!”

“Mm, say it again,” he says, pulling her back against his chest, still stroking deep inside, hand squeezing around her neck.

“Daddy, fuckkk me, daddy!”

“Fuuuck… pussy so good,” he moans, joining both hands at her neck now, leaving her no choice but to take it as he somehow digs deeper into her.

Planting her hands on the bed, she whines as another orgasm rushes to the surface, forcing screams and squeals out.

“Like that?”

“Yes! Yes!” She hollers, letting her head fall forward as his hands move toward her back again, pressing her arch back into form.

“Mmhm, stay right there,” he says, pressing her to the bed as he's off again, thrusting so deep into her, she can't form a sentence.

“So.. gotdamn deep— fuck it's— ohhhh it's!”

“Mmm, you love this dick, don't you?”

“Yesssss,” she hisses, her head falling against the pillow as he digs his hand into her hair.

“Fuck, you're gonna make me nut,” he grunts.

She's still incoherently babbling into the pillow, drooling down her own legs as well as his.

“I feel it, give it to me, peanut,” he says, “I'm cummin’ with you.”

Squeezing her eyes shut as he ruts her back and forth onto him, she cries out a final time as she squeezes the life and orgasm right out of him.

“Fuuuuuuckkk,” he growls, bearing down on her hips as his strokes gradually come to a stop.

“How you feeling, baby?” He asks, rubbing the feeling back into her legs as she rolls out of position.

“That was amazing,” she laughs, “I feel amazing.”

He chuckles, leaving out to retrieve a towel to wipe them down with, before climbing into bed beside her, pulling her flush against his chest.

He watches as her eyes flutter closed, unable to stop the yawn coming from his own mouth, as he kisses her forehead.

@nayaesworld @browngirldominion @dabratzchronicles @kindofaintrovert @fujiiapples @soufcakmistress @ghostfacekill-monger @blackerthings @thegifstories @longpause-awkwardsmile @blowmymbackout @sageispunk @blackpinup22 @megamindsecretlair @xo-goldengirl @theereina @talkswithdesi @starcrossedxwriter @blackburnbook @abeautifulmindexposed

[blackynsupremacy]

BEING JEREMIAH

FISHER’S SUMMER LOVE

HEADCANONS

pairing: jeremiah fisher x black!fem!reader

summary: you and jeremiah fisher find happiness and romance with each other in cousins beach.

contains: fluff, kissing, swearing, flirting, teasing, susannah is alive, jelly is on good platonic terms, cuteness, couple things, l bomb, jeremiah being a green flag.

taglist: @greengoblinswifey @hopefully-saturn @jkr820 @hoffmansgirl @austeenbootler @niteskysx @sabrinasopposite @thabiddie23 @hnch33rios @xoxoglittergossip @supaprettyg @motherismotheringggg @oscarisaackissmykitty @simply-lovley44 @elitesanjisimp @gxuxhdjdu @v3n1ce-bxtch @iamsebastiansstan @stargirl-mayaa @miguelspvssy

a/n: hey shawties! ik it’s not a nicholas fic, but it’s coming and i love jeremiah downnn. i’ve read all three books, binged the show and i’ve went to the beach where the show has been filmed last summer (i live in nc!) and i was just reminiscing. even if you don’t watch tsitp (i recommend it) i hope ya’ll still fwi. life has been hard lately and i just wanted something cute, so i appreciate your love and support! kisses to you all. 🥹🩷

• being in a summer romance with jeremiah fisher would be such a dream.

• he’s 100% a lover boy with lots of huge golden retriever energy, but he doesn’t play about you at all.

• he loves you from the inside out and always wants to see the best in you despite your flaws.

• he adores your natural features from your skin glowing perfectly in the sun to your hair.

• jeremiah’s love languages are definitely physical touch and acts of service.

• he’d protectively wrap his arm around your shoulder or waist while out just let these dudes know what’s up.

• he abides by the sidewalk rule.

• walking hand in hand everywhere you go is a must.

• especially on the beach.

• and if you get tired, he’d happily carry you on his back for miles if he has to.

• if you’re in the car with him, best believe one hand is on the wheel and the other is on your thigh.

• he rewards the skin with some comforting squeezes every once in a while.

• “hold on tight for me, okay? i got you.”

• he’d ask if he can touch your hair. if you say yes, he’d marvel at it with such fascination and handle it with such a delicate touch.

• jeremiah would definitely help with your hair if you’d ask! you just gotta talk him through it.

• he loves to have your legs on his lap or just have you on his lap period. the man wants you close.

• he’s so cheeky. he’s definitely the type to offer to rub sunscreen all over you, so he could feel every inch of your smooth, brown skin.

• “god, you’re fucking beautiful. it’s like you’re literally a piece of art.” he’d blatantly state in awe as he massaged the sunscreen into your lower back and legs.

• you’d giggle, smiling so hard that it made your face hurt.

• “thanks, jere!”

• “your pleasure is all mine.”

• and his kisses?

• he’s so intimate, hungry, and passionate.

• he kisses you as if he’d leave the earth within the next minute.

• he holds you close by your waist while caressing your face into his large hand.

• if you’re shorter than him, you don’t have to go on your toes, he’ll dive down to get his sugar if he has to.

• your favorite make out spots would include his car, under the pier, the swimming pool at the summer house, and his room.

• don’t tell susannah and laurel that though. he had to sneak you in.

• if you’re at a party or bonfire, he’s holding you hella close if you’re dancing together whether it’s be bumping and grinding or a slow dance.

• either way, you and jeremiah know how to get down on the dance floor.

• you both eat down in some karaoke duets.

• showtunes and 90s r&b are your go to.

• if you want to get lit, he’s cool being the dd. your safety is a top priority to him.

• if you’re shy in a party setting, that’s fine!

• jeremiah will sit and talk with you while still socializing with others.

• he will instantly recognize if your social battery runs out and will take you home.

• “hey, you wanna go back to watch a movie? i’ll let you pick this time.”

• you trust him to make and watch your drink.

• cuddling with him is so comforting.

• he entraps you in such a warm embrace you could fall asleep to his heartbeat.

• he can alternate between being the little and big spoon.

• his eyes linger just as much as his hands.

• if you’re not looking at him, his eyes are stuck on you.

• you’d get a bit embarrassed because his eye contact was so intense, you’d melt.

• “is she even real?” he would think to himself as you would be rambling to belly and laughing with her about whatever.

• your smile alone has him set for life.

• he wasn’t paying attention to the topic conversation, he was absolutely hypnotized by you.

• conrad would have to be the one to bring him back to earth.

• “you’re staring again, jere.” he’d tease with a smirk, a knowing look painted on his face as he crossed his arms. he’s elated that his little brother was truly happy with someone and he could tell that you wouldn’t be just a fling.

• belly loves you both so much and hypes you up entirely.

• taylor adores you as well. she’s so supportive.

• “damn, i’d say you guys are cuter than team jellyfish!”

• “taylor!” belly would playfully chide her best friend, hitting her on the shoulder.

• jeremiah’s happiness would always bring her peace, that’s her best friend at the end of the day all bullshit drama aside.

• jeremiah would be so bashful at first, but it would dissipate into confidence and peace knowing that you were all his and vice versa.

• when he’s working as a lifeguard at the country club, he’d get you in if you want to come by and swim in the pool. all the girls would try to throw game at him, but he’s ignoring them as he watches you enjoy the water.

• he’s doing his job, getting paid, and spending time with you— a win is a win.

• if you can’t swim, that’s cool! he’s gonna watch you like a hawk while you stand and relax in that 3-4ft corner or while you float in a tube he got you.

• “if you ever want swimming lessons, you know that you have an excellent teacher nearby.” he’d remark with that cute lopsided smile of his.

• “who would that be? steven?” you’d tease causing him to playfully deadpan, you’d laugh and give him a kiss.

• “you’re such a big softie, jere. i know you’d have my back. i’ll think about it!”

• he could notice your apprehension about it, but he’s going to support your decision.

• gigi is jealous as fuck. just throw in the towel, girl.

• jeremiah would definitely be the type of guy to do spontaneous interactive dates.

• he’d take off guard pictures of you during the whole time.

• he’s obsessed.

• he’d take you to the drive-in where you’d sit on the hood of his jeep and cuddle closely while eating junk food.

• the beach would always be a go-to. you surprised him with matching bathing suits to wear.

• if you’re up for it in the morning, he’d give you one of his surfboards and teach you a lesson on the waves.

• or he’d bring you to the boardwalk, where you would go on rides like the ferris wheel or the tower of terror (don’t worry he’ll hold your hand).

• you’d both compete and play carnival games. you’d fuck him up in ski-ball and table hockey while he’d beat you in basketball and balloon darts.

• all competitions aside, he’d win you the cutest prizes that you’d cherish always.

• food runs were your favorite type of dates because you’d put each other on to some good shit.

• jeremiah would be the only person you’d share your food with. ever.

• he’ll feed you like you’re an empress.

• ain’t shit 50/50, he’ll spoil you! don’t try to offer either. he got a job, so he’s got you.

• you comfort and reassure each other during the bad days.

• you’re both not afraid to cry or feel vulnerable, you wipe each other’s tears.

• if you happen to be in a disagreement, you might take time to have space from jeremiah, but each second away from you tears him apart, so he does everything in his power to make it right.

• susannah loves you to bits. she’s so kind and nurturing towards you. she can see why her sunshine boy is sun-shinier than usual. it’s all because of you.

• “my god, you are just a vision. now, i see why jere has been so happy. you both just make each other glow. would you mind if i painted you?” jeremiah watched as his mother inquired for you as she was holding your hands in her delicate one’s.

• “easy, beck. you just met the girl, but you’re right— you and jere are made for each other. i can tell.” laurel would chime in, a look of pride towards the boy she’d seen as her own son spread on her face.

• “even if you can’t tell, i’ll always know that we’re meant to be because—i love her.”

• with those three little words, you both knew that you and jeremiah would stick together through all four seasons.

[venusincleo]

𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲.

⁰¹. ʳᵒᵃᵈ ᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘ.

Warnings: MDNI • Explicit • Giselle Knowles x Terry Richmond, fluff, angst.

Summary: In which Giselle Knowles is the graceful yet saditty and highly successful hairstylist known as GiGi, and Terrance Richmond or TJ, is the reliable and sought after town mechanic. Their five year old friendship is filled with a long lasting crush that TJ is too invested in to abandon, and an attraction that makes it hard for Gi to stick to her guns about not wanting anything romantic with him. But, one day, when she needs someone to confide in, TJ gets a chance to show her that age ain’t nothing but a number.

Word Count: 2.6k❣ 

A/N: I have no business starting anything else knowing what my drafts look like but... here we are 🥲 I couldn't resist. I hope you enjoy! 🫶🏾

p.s. this is part one of this miniseries so... stay tuned! ♡

• • •

𝑨𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒖𝒏 𝒃𝒆𝒈𝒂𝒏 𝒕𝒐 𝒔𝒆𝒕 𝒐𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒐𝒖𝒕𝒔𝒌𝒊𝒓𝒕𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒅𝒐𝒘𝒏𝒕𝒐𝒘𝒏 𝑯𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒏, the young man worked tirelessly to make good on his promise. Hands covered in oil rubbed against the cloth he had hanging from his waistband, and then, he shut the hood of the Range Rover Velar that belonged to his last customer of the day. Upon hearing the metal door click in place, the young woman ended her phone call, and turned to view her car.

Her Louboutin heels clicked along the concrete flooring of the garage, and as she approached the gentleman, his eyes couldn’t help but attach to her frame.

“Thank you for this TJ, really.” Her deep, buttery southern rasp eased from her lips effortlessly as she reached her hand out to touch his arm in thanks. He gives her a boyish grin, his aquamarine eyes gazing into her dark hazel ones.

“Don’t mention it. I told you, any time.” She returns a smile of her own, her pretty almond shaped eyes lighting up at the man who wouldn’t dare to not keep his word. Especially with her.

“And you don’t have to keep calling me TJ. Terry is fine.” He advises her. With a playful roll of her eyes, she creates just another inch of distance between them as she can sense where he’s trying to steer the conversation.

“Boy, please. Yo mama named you TJ, so I’m gon’ call you TJ.” The large young man only shakes his head, cleaning the few tools he previously used on his rag and setting them back in his tool box.

“Okay, GiGi.” Though he mumbles, the bass in his voice makes it so that even a whisper has projection, and the beautiful woman drops her jaw playfully.

“Wow.” She exclaims, shaking her head dramatically. Terry only scoffs at how she takes her own medicine, and then, the room falls quiet for a moment. Once he has all of his things organized back in their rightful place, he turns the lights off and starts to lock up, signaling to his counterpart that it was time to go.

“Oh, um…how much do I owe you?” She asks genuinely.

With all intentions of ignoring the question he thought she’d known better than to ask by now, Terry fastens the rest of the buttons on his work shirt, and quickly throws on his jacket. As he pats his pockets for his keys he realizes he’s good to close, yet he sees his friend still standing beside her truck.

“You’re all good, Gi. C’mon so I can close up.” He tries to be definitive about it, but when he sees the woman still as can be beside her car door, he releases a soft breath.

“No, you come on. I feel bad for holding you past closing time. Let me make it up to you.” Just as the words leave her lips, Terry is allowing his eyes to glaze over her every feature. He hadn’t allowed himself to get too distracted by her earlier, as he wanted to get done working on her car as soon as possible. But seeing her within the low light of the setting sun, and the darkened garage now, a flood of feelings came back full force.

Her naturally brunette tresses were straightened to perfection, with layers falling around her face. Romance curls lingered along her shoulders, accented with the tiniest streaks of blonde. The dark hair brought out the depth of her hazel-brown eyes and Terry had to fight to not get lost in them. Or lost in the soul behind them.

Giselle Knowles. Daughter of the Knowles family who were all known for their entreprenurial spirit; and she was no different. When they first met, his mother introduced them in hopes that the sweet young woman she met in church would take interest in her true southern gentleman of a son. If only Mrs. Richmond knew that her plan would result in the opposite, and that GiGi would have a hold on TJ, she may not have introduced them.

Now, five full years later, after initially trying to court the siren of a woman and learning that she only wanted a friend in him, he had vowed to himself to be whatever she needed. So far, that was a mechanic and confidant, but he was always hoping for the moment when she would make it more.

"You hungry?" She asks, finding anyway that she can reciprocate the huge favor he had just done for her. Finally giving in to the insistent woman, Terry scratches along his temple as he shifts his weight.

"Yeah, I could eat."

“You still eat like a growing boy, I see.” Gi watched across the small table as Terry dove into his meal, chicken bones and utensils be damned. He stopped for a moment, glancing his icy blue eyes her way, before he lowered the half bird to the paper it was served on. His large hands fished for a napkin from the dispenser in the middle of the table, and ultimately grabbed the last one, bringing the thin piece of tissue paper to his mouth to wipe off the grease and chicken juice.

When he finally looked at his longtime friend, they both burst into a fit of laughter, remembering all of the times that she had witnessed TJ scarf his food down like he didn’t know where his next meal was coming from. Recovering from the tear inducing laughter, she could only shake her head, thinking of the response TJ gave her when she asked if he was hungry.

“Tal’m ‘bout, ‘I could eat.’ You was starving!” She continues to laugh, and Terry takes this time to admire her smile, as he chuckles a little beside her.

“I be try’nna tell you. Im not the same boy that you met some years ago. I’m a grown ass man, I gotta keep my weight up.” He flexes his muscles under hand and Gi’s eyebrows raise as she watches the muscles under his veined arms contract.

“Yeah, yeah, put those away, there’s kids around.” She jokes back, playfully glancing around their vicinity.

“Oh… oh.” He straightens his posture, and puts his arms in front of himself as if that would make him any smaller. They share a more quiet laugh, and then their eyes connect for yet another time tonight.

It’s almost awkward, as they look at each other for a moment longer, just taking the other in.

“When was the last time we got together like this?” Terry’s voice is soft in his inquiry, his hands reaching for the empty napkin dispenser to busy himself. Giselle feels his gaze get a bit more intense, and she averts her eyes to the half-eaten basket of fries before her.

“Um…” She thinks back to the few hangouts she’d had with friends throughout the year, and she can only single out one in particular.

“I think the last time it was just you and I was… after your mom’s memorial day cookout. So, May.”

“Damn, and it’s December, Gi.” Terry lets a beat of silence pass and then he’s shaking his head in thought.

“Nah, you gotta clear your calendar for me like twice a month, atleast one.” He reasoned. Friends that lived in the same state had to see more of eachother. Right?

Giselle takes a deep breath in, and looks to the side of her at the local chicken restaurant that was getting emptier and emptier as the hour passed. Her cheeks heated slightly as she assumed the implications of his words.

“Look, Terry. I told you before, you’re too young for me.” His eyebrows furrow for a second, and then a humored look fills his face in place of his natural pout.

“What are you talking about?” He asks, clearly. GiGi blinks at his apparent obliviousness, and motions toward him with her hands.

“I’m talking about you, saying I need to clear my schedule for you.” She repeats his words, and he finds himself scoffing at her assumptions.

“I don’t know what you were thinking, but I meant just to get together and catch up so…” Terry shrugs off the confusion, yet Giselle can feel even more heat rising in her cheeks and her palms grow sweaty. Why did I say that? She starts to rake her brain for when she missed the cues, or maybe created one from thin air.

Maybe he wasn’t pining after her anymore.

“Sorry…” A nervous laugh encases her apology, as she avoids his eyes at all costs. Suddenly, it seemed like if she looked at him she would burst into flames.

She recognized the feeling of embarrassment all too well, but… what was it that was pulling at her heart? Welling in the pit of her stomach?

When she was quiet for too long, Terry began to feel a slight pang in his chest. He knew her well enough to recognize when something was wrong; her face would fall, accentuating her pretty little pout and and then she would get spacey, glancing around at anything that wouldn’t grimace at her for staring. Just like she was now.

“Gigi?” He called out for her. But the only thing that changed was her eyes flickering up to his.

“What’s wrong?” What’s wrong? Maybe the random jump in her core when she watched him flex his muscles, or the way she smiled wider when she looked over his caramel complexion. This was not good.

“Nothing… and please don’t call me that.” She softens her tone so that she doesn’t take out her internal frustrations on him. But despite popular opinion, nothing had been peachy keen over on her side. Except for the money, but still, taxes came to mess with that too. Now, she was feeling things she had never felt before.

Terry jerked his head back slightly, confused by her sudden disdain for her widely known nickname.

“Everybody calls you GiGi, why can’t I?”

“Yeah, and everybody thinks they know me. They may know GiGi the hairstylist, but they don’t know Giselle.” She blinks and her eyes barely gloss over as she realizes the truth she is about to speak.

“But, you know me. So it’s different.” Terry listens to her deep country twang and hopes that he’s hearing her right. Is she… confessing?

He adjusts himself in his seat, and leans forward so that he can read her face better. He couldn’t afford to misunderstand her.

“So what would you rather me call you?” Yours.

“Everything good over here?” It takes Terry everything in him to drag his eyes away from Giselle, but when he does, he looks over at the waitress and gives her a polite nod.

“Cool.” She grabs the leather booklet with their bill from her wide apron pocket and places it between them on the table. “You guys can take care of that when you’re ready.”

Giselle was still too in her head to fully process that Terry was pulling two twenties from his wallet and telling the waitress to keep the change. But when the pretty young girl sauntered off with the paid tab, it was just them again. And they were able to pick up where they left off. Yet, Terry wanted to take the conversation somewhere else. Someplace where they wouldn’t be interrupted.

“Let me walk you to your car.”

In an effort to shield themselves from the cool fall night of the bustling downtown area, Giselle and Terry walk closer than before, foraging for heat. Their steps are slow, in tandem, as if they wanted to soak up the next few minutes of being next to each other. Both of their minds played their conversation back, scaling the words for different reasons.

GiGi hoped that she was clear with her doting, yearning words. But all she could remember was being vague as hell. And that wouldn’t serve either of them right now.

Terry paced over the words that he heard, dipping between them to try and read some other meaning. Was he missing something? It was pulling at him. A feeling a little too familiar, yet, it was shared now.

Their hands grazed the other as they walked as if they were joined at the hip. It was comfortable this way. Existing in the reality of the thing without fully acknowledging it.

But, Terry didn’t want comfortability. He wanted clarity.

“You still didn’t answer my question.” Giselle looks up at his side profile and then he turns his head so that his eyes can meet hers. For a moment they search inside eachother, hoping to get to the bottom of such intense feelings. Just as quickly as she looked at him, GiGi allows her eyes to fall to the pavement in front of her.

“Gi is fine. No one calls me that.” It wasn’t as different as she had first thought. And it surely wasn’t all that she had in mind for him to call her, but it would do for now.

“Hmph.” Terry lets his eyes rest on her for a moment more before he directs them to the path that they are walking on, and soon, they are reaching her glossy black Range. Silence was all that filled the space between them, and since she didn’t know what else to say, Giselle began to reach for her car door handle.

“Gi.”

His deep, gravelly voice calls out for her and she doesn’t give it a second before she is turning around to see what he wanted. Arms outstretched in front of him, Terry motioned for one of their infamous hugs, and though her eyes glossed over at the thought of him holding her with her feelings so raw, she didn’t deny him.

Giselle’s arms wrapped around Terry’s neck as if it was instinct, her body extended slightly as she stood on the tips of her toes, even in her Louboutins. Terry allowed his arms to squeeze her tight around her torso, holding her against him tenderly.

And for the first time the whole night, it was clear what each of them felt. Their heartbeats heightened in pace at the same exact time, pumping at the same exact rhythm.

GiGi tried her hand at taking a deep breath, which did absolutely nothing for her bleeding heart. All it did was allow her to take in a closer whiff of Terry’s scent, and she found her eyes fluttering closed for a moment. She had no idea that the faint smell of motor oil, with his natural musk and the woody smell of his rosemary cologne would mix so well. But, it did something to her for sure.

“You get home safe, a’ight?” He begins to pull away yet they are still close, and her eyes open to gaze into his longingly. Without another thought, Giselle leans her face up and places the most velveteen kiss on his thick lips, her mind completely clear, just for a second.

Then, her eyes open and her inhibitions come rushing back in.

“Uh-I…” She tries to find the words but she is completely dumbfounded. It’s like her body was putty in his hands, but she didn’t want to do too much. She couldn’t.

As she begins to step back, Terry pulls her back in, and presses his forehead against hers.

“Stop holding back.” He rasps, wholly taken by the charm she had worked on him. It didn’t take her lips touching his for his feelings to be ignited, but just the thought that they were feeling the same things had his extremities ablaze. “Say what’s on your mind.”

“I want you.”

• • •

I do not condone any translations, replications or plagiarisms of my original work. Please do not repost as your own. Reblogs and comments/notes welcome. ♥︎

• • •

༓TAGLIST༓

@motheroffae

*let me know if you want to be added to the ongoing tag-list in the comments*

[420days]

HALL OF FAME | JEY USO

Summary: An extremely shy Brianna accompanies her husband to Hall of Fame for the first time

Warnings: none

“Mommy looks so pretty!” Brianna’s youngest son, Jeyden gasped into the phone once the FaceTime call connected.

“Wow, she does! I like your new hair mommy.” His twin brother, Jeylen nodded his head in agreement.

“Thank you my sweet babies. Are you guys being good?” She asked and before they could respond her oldest child intervened.

“No they’re not! They’re here acting a fool. You wanna show mom and dad what you learned?” Jeyla nudged her five year old brother.

Jey peeked his head into the camera letting this kids know he was still very much in the room and present. His kids knew they had a little lead-way with Brianna but he wasn’t having it at all.

Jeylen giggled before shaking his head and and moving away from the camera.

“What’s he doing Yaya?” He called his oldest by her nickname.

“Sticking up his middle finger.” She spoke and Brianna’s mouth went agape.

“Oh yeah? Ima deal with him when I get home cause he knows better than that shit.”

“Mmhhh anyway, mommy let me see what you’re wearing because the makeup is eating.” Jeyla clapped her hands.

Standing up from the phone she stepped back just enough to show her daughter her full outfit. Her cherry red dress with a tail in the back that hugged hourglass figure. The pointed gold heels her daughter helped her pick out went perfectly with her dress and gave her a height boost showing off her toned legs.

“Period mommy! Look at the body! My mom is such a baddie!” Jeyla gassed up her mom as she took FaceTime photos. Jey listened to his daughter and couldn’t help but to laugh because she sounded just like him.

Although she was sixteen she knew her mom was shy but she couldn’t understand why. Her mom was beautiful inside and out and that was exactly why her and her father reminded her every chance they could.

“Thank you love. You and your dad want to make me cry tonight.” She glanced up at her husband who was already smiling down at her.

“I hear you gassing mom but where’s dad? Cause I know he got it on.” Brianna heard her son’s voice after a door closed.

“Dad looks handsome. I told him that.” Jeyla sucked her teeth as her brother took the phone from her.

“Son, ou know I do!” Jey said as Jeycon took the phone from his twin sister and began gassing his father.

Brianna laughed at the two of them before telling the kids they had to head out or else they would be late.

“Okay, I love you guys! Take a lot of pictures and send them to me.”

“We will, love you too!” The couple smiled at their kids before hanging up.

-

“Oooouuu sis! You finally came out the house! You look so beautiful.” Trin smiled as she walked over to her sister and brother in law.

“Thank you.” Brianna smiled shyly as she held onto her husbands hand. It was Hall of Fame night and Jey was able to convince her to come with him.

He knew his wife was extremely shy and didn’t like the media’s attention so she refrained from coming to a lot of the events.

However, his parents agreed to keep the kids so he basically begged his wife to come and spend the next couple days with him.

“She look good don’t she? I told her that earlier.” He tucked his lips and looked over his wife’s hourglass figure in her red dress. He was ready to say fuck the show and take her back to their hotel room.

“She really does. It’s giving very much slim thick and the boobies are sitting just right.” Trin smiled.

“Naturally at that.” Jey added making Brianna push his arm lightly.

“Babe stop.” She smiled as her butterscotch face turned cherry red. After all the years they’ve been together this man could still make her feel shy and have her blushing.

“Ima leave you alone.” He smiled knowing he was lowkey embarrassing her by he didn’t care. He loved showing his wife off and that’s what he planned to do tonight.

tags: @bebesobrielo @trentybenty @amandairene88 @kiki1704 @paigereeder @uceyliyahh @skyesthebomb @cyberdejos2 @chloeijuana @tian-monique

[hottq]

[ironinc]

My Dearest Situationship.ᝰ.ᐟ (Pt 1)

Tony Stark x F!Black Reader.  (Smut/NSFW)

˗ˏˋ You and Tony are in a passionate yet confusing relationship, with him longing for something more serious and you cherishing your independent lifestyle. When you're together, the spark is undeniable, but when apart, you each lead your own lives. He envisions settling down with someone like you, but you question where your relationship stands. How will this whirlwind romance unfold between two individuals with differing expectations?

⤷ Oneshot, smut so here’s the warning! Lowkey sugar daddy, sex occurs twice, yearning and romance of course~

⤷ A/N: I fear I’m obsessed with writing things for tony. I just can’t not have a good idea for the plot!!!

⤷ Word count: 4,658

⤷ Special song to add spice: Make It To The Morning by Partynextdoor.

ᥫ᭡

The penthouse was quiet, save for the low hum of the city below. Too quiet. The kind of silence that made you hyper-aware of your own breathing, your own heartbeat. You leaned against the floor-to-ceiling window, staring out at the glittering skyline, but all you could think about was him. Tony Stark. He had this uncanny ability to occupy your thoughts even when he wasn’t there. And tonight, he wasn’t. Not physically, anyway.

You swirled the wine in your glass, the deep red liquid catching the dim light. It was his favorite. Some ridiculously expensive vintage he insisted on stocking for you. For me, you corrected yourself. 

Because that’s what this was, wasn’t it? A carefully curated arrangement where he provided… everything. The clothes, the jewelry, the apartment. But what did he get in return? Your presence? Your affection? Or something more elusive, something neither of you could quite define?

The sound of a key turning in the lock snapped you out of your thoughts. You didn’t turn around, not yet. You knew it was him. Only he would barge in unannounced as if he owned the place. Technically, he did.

“Still up?” His voice was smooth, confident, and just a little teasing. “Waiting for me?”

You finally turned, your gaze meeting his as he stepped into the room. Tony Stark. The man who could make your pulse race with just a glance. He was dressed impeccably, as always—a tailored suit that fit him like a second skin, the faintest hint of stubble shadowing his jaw. His eyes, though. Those were what got you every time. Dark, intense, and filled with a hunger that matched your own.

“Not waiting,” you lied, taking a sip of your wine. “Just couldn’t sleep.”

He smirked, loosening his tie as he approached. “Liar.”

The word hung in the air between you, charged with the tension that always seemed to exist whenever you were together. It was electric, undeniable. You felt it in the way your breath hitched when he stopped just inches away, in the way his cologne wrapped around you like a second skin.

“You don’t have to lie to me beautiful he murmured, his voice dropping an octave. “I know you missed me.”

You raised an eyebrow, trying to maintain some semblance of control. “Confident, aren’t we?”

“Always.” He took the glass from your hand, setting it aside without breaking eye contact. 

“But I’m not the one who’s been pacing all night, am I?”

Damn him. Damn him for seeing right through you. You wanted to argue, to push back, but the intensity of his gaze left you speechless. Instead, you swallowed hard, feeling the heat of his body so close to yours. Too close. Not close enough.

Tony reached out, his fingers brushing against your cheek. The touch was gentle, almost reverent, but it sent a shiver down your spine nonetheless. “Why do you fight it so much?” he asked softly. “This thing between us. It’s real, and you know it.”

You shook your head, stepping back slightly. “It’s complicated.”

“Only because you make it that way.” His hand dropped, but his gaze never wavered. “I’m offering you everything, ____. All of me. But you keep holding back. Why?”

Because you’re scared, and not being independent would be something new for you. The thought flashed through your mind unbidden, but you didn’t say it aloud. Couldn’t. Admitting that would mean admitting how much he meant to you, how deeply he’d already gotten under your skin. And that was dangerous. Terrifying.

Instead, you deflected. “You’re used to getting whatever you want, aren’t you?”

His lips curved into a slow, knowing smile. “Usually. But you’re different. You’ve always been different.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, but you forced yourself to stay composed. “Flattery won’t work on me, Tony.”

“Good thing I’m not trying to flatter you, then.” He closed the distance between you again, his hands settling on your hips. “I’m trying to show you what you mean to me. What we could be.”

His touch was firm, and grounding, but it only heightened the buzzing in your veins. You wanted to pull away, to preserve the distance you so desperately clung to, but your body betrayed you, leaning into him instead. His lips brushed against your ear as he spoke, his breath warm against your skin.

“Let me in, ____. Just once. Let me show you.”

The words were a plea, a promise, and a challenge all rolled into one. And they broke you. Whatever walls you’d built, whatever defenses you’d erected, they crumbled in that moment. You looked up at him, your resolve faltering, and nodded.

That was all the invitation he needed.

Tony’s mouth crashed onto yours, fierce and demanding, as if he’d been holding back for far too long. You responded in kind, your hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened. There was no hesitation, no pretense. Justraw, unbridled desire.

He backed you toward the bedroom, his hands roaming over your body with practiced ease. Every touch, every caress, was deliberate, designed to unravel you piece by piece. By the time he pushed open the door, your dress was already pooling at your feet, leaving you bare before him.

Your breath hitched as his eyes raked over you, dark and hungry. “Beautiful,” he breathed, the word barely audible but dripping with sincerity.

You felt exposed, vulnerable, but also… powerful. Like you held him in the palm of your hand, even as he claimed you with his gaze. He stepped closer, his fingers tracing a path down your arm, sending shivers skittering across your skin.

“Tony…” Your voice was soft and uncertain, but he silenced you with another kiss. This one was slower, sweeter, as if he was savoring the taste of you.

When he pulled back, his expression was serious. “Tell me what you want, ____.”

You hesitated, your mind racing. What did you want? Him? Yes, always. But more than that? That was the question you’d been avoiding.

“I want… you,” you whispered finally, the admission tearing free before you could stop it. “All of you.”

A flicker of triumph crossed his face, but it was quickly replaced by something softer, more tender. “You’ve got me,” he said simply. “Now and always.”

The words should have scared you. They did scare you, deep down. But in that moment, all you could focus on was the feel of his hands on your skin, the heat of his body pressed against yours. He laid you down on the bed, his movements slow and deliberate, as if he was memorizing every inch of you.

His lips trailed down your neck, planting soft kisses along the way until they found your collarbone. You gasped as he nipped gently, his tongue soothing the sting. “So sensitive,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire.

Every touch, every word, was deliberate, calculated to drive you wild. And it worked. By the time his hands slid lower, you were already trembling, your breaths coming in short, uneven gasps.

“Tony, please…”

“What do you need, sweetheart?” His voice was low and rough, but there was a tenderness there that made your chest ache. “Tell me.”

You opened your mouth to respond, to beg, but then his fingers brushed against you, and all coherent thought fled. You arched into his touch, a moan escaping your lips as he teased and tormented you, drawing out sensations you hadn’t even known were possible.

“That’s it,” he coaxed, his thumb circling slowly. “Let go for me.”

And you did. Wave after wave of pleasure crashed over you, leaving you breathless and trembling in his arms. He held you through it, his lips pressing gentle kisses to your forehead, murmuring words you were too overwhelmed to process.

When the last tremor subsided, you looked up at him, your vision still hazy. His expression was one of pure adoration, and it made your heart ache in ways you weren’t ready to examine.

“My turn,” he said huskily, his hands moving to his belt. You watched, transfixed, as he undressed, revealing the taut muscles and perfect skin beneath. When he joined you on the bed, you could feel the heat radiating off him, tempting you closer.

His hands roamed over your body, rekindling the fire he’d just stoked. You gasped as he nipped at your earlobe, his breath hot against your skin. “Are you ready for me, Y/N?”

You nodded, unable to form words. He positioned himself above you, his eyes locked onto yours, full of intensity and something deeper. Something that made your heart pound even harder.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” he whispered, his voice rough with need.

You nodded again, biting your lip as he entered you slowly, giving you time to adjust. It was overwhelming, the sensation of being so completely connected to him. But it was also perfect.

As he began to move, you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. Each thrust was deliberate, drawing out gasps and moans that echoed through the room. His name fell from your lips like a prayer, and he responded with a groan, burying his face in your neck.

The rhythm increased, becoming more urgent, more desperate. You clung to him, your nails digging into his back as waves of pleasure built once more. 

Without a word he stopped you from moving, flipping you around flat on your stomach. He grabbed your hips and pulled them up. Helping you arch your back. He teases you for a second. Using your wetness to tease you with just his tip.

“Tony, don’t tease me—”

With a swift move, he inserted every inch of him, without letting you re-adjust. His strong hands rested on your waist. Controlling your movements he brought your ass to meet his thrusts. His moans were low and so attractive. It added to everything you were feeling. 

In this position, you could really feel all of him. It was toe-curling. (BAHHSHHSHA) 

“Come for me, sweetheart,” he urged, his voice strained. “I’ve got you.”

And just like that, you shattered again, crying out as ecstasy consumed you. He followed soon after, his body tensing before collapsing beside you, both of you breathless and spent.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. The only sound was the steady rhythm of your breathing, slowly syncing as you lay tangled together. Finally, Tony broke the silence, his voice soft but firm.

“We can’t keep doing this, Y/N.” He stood up and went to the dresser. Getting himself something to put on and gettingyou one of his shirts to wear plus some pajama shorts. He gave it to you and then sat beside you. 

Your stomach dropped at what he said. You thanked him for the clothes and put them on. “What do you mean?” 

He turned to face you, his expression serious. “I mean… I’m tired of pretending this is casual. I want more. With you.”

You stared at him, your mind racing. More. It’s what you’d been secretly longing for, even as you denied it. But now that it was out there, hanging between you…

“Tony…”

Tony’s eyes held yours, unwavering, as if he could see straight through the walls you’d built around yourself. The weight of his words pressed down on you, making it hard to breathe. More. It wasn’t just a word—it was a promise, a demand, a fear all rolled into one. You swallowed hard, your voice trembling as you finally spoke.

You hesitated, your hands clenching and unclenching at your sides. “I don’t know if I can give you what you want. I’m not… I’m not built for this. For us.”

His brow furrowed, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he took a step closer, his presence overwhelming in the best way. “Why not?” he asked, his voice low and steady. “What’s holding you back?”

You looked away, your heart pounding in your chest. “I’m scared,” you admitted, the words slipping out before you could stop them. “Scared of losing myself. Scared of depending on someone else. Scared of getting hurt. And scared to not be independent.”

For a moment, there was silence. Then Tony reached out, his fingers brushing against your cheek. His touch was gentle, almost reverent, as if you were something precious. “Look at me,” he said softly, and you did, your eyes meeting his once more. “You’re not going to lose yourself with me. I don’t want to take anything from you. I want to give you more—more of me, more of us. And as for getting hurt…” He paused, his thumb tracing the curve of your cheekbone. “I’ll never let that happen. Not if I can help it.”

His words wrapped around you like a warm blanket, soothing the edges of your fear. But still, the doubt lingered. “You say that now, but what happens when I’m not enough? When you realize I can’t give you everything you need?”

Tony’s expression softened, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “You already are enough. You’ve always been enough. And I’m not asking for everything—I’m just asking for a chance. A chance to show you that we can be something real.”

Your breath caught in your throat, the sincerity in his voice breaking down your defenses. “Tony…”

He leaned in, his forehead resting against yours, his breath warm against your skin. “I’m not going anywhere,” he murmured. “Not unless you tell me to. And even then, I might not listen.”

A laugh bubbled up in your chest, unexpected but welcome. “Stubborn,” you muttered, shaking your head.

“Guilty,” he replied, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, fleeting kiss. “But I’m also serious. I meant what I said earlier. I want to take care of you, ___. In every way, shape, and form. Let me. Please.”

His gaze was so intense, so full of raw emotion, that it was impossible to look away. “I don’t know if I can,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Tony’s hand slid down to cup your chin, tilting your face up to his. “You don’t have to know right now,” he said. “All I’m asking is that you trust me. Trust us. Let’s figure it out together, one step at a time.”

Your heart raced, the walls around it crumbling with each word he spoke. “You’re not making this easy,” you said, your voice trembling.

He chuckled, the sound low and warm. “Good. I wasn’t trying to.”

You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath as his words sank in. One step at a time. He was right. You don’t have to have all the answers right now. All you had to do was take the first step. And maybe, just maybe, it would be worth it.

When you opened your eyes again, Tony was still there, waiting patiently, his gaze never leaving yours. “Okay,” you said softly, the word leaving your lips like a confession. “One step at a time.”

A smile spread across his face, bright and genuine, and he pulled you into his arms, holding you close. “Thank you,” he murmured into your hair, his voice thick with emotion. “You won’t regret this.”

You buried your face in his chest, his heartbeat steady against your cheek. “I hope you’re right,” you whispered.

“I am,” he said, his fingers gently trailing up and down your back. “And to prove it…” He pulled back slightly, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Let me take you out. A real date. No business, no distractions. Just you and me.”

You raised an eyebrow, a small smile tugging at your lips. “A date? Are you sure you remember how to do that?”

Tony laughed, the sound rich and full. “I might be a little rusty, but I’m sure I can manage. Besides, it’s you—you make everything easy.”

Flutters filled your stomach. He had a way of making you feel seen, and cherished, and not just physically. It was in the way he talked to you, how he held your gaze, how he seemed to understand you without having to say a word.

“Tomorrow night,” he said, his voice firm but soft. “I’ll pick you up at seven. Dress for whatever you want—fancy, casual, it doesn’t matter. Just be ready for me.”

“Understood,” you replied, feeling the warmth of his words sink into your skin.

Slowly, his hand drifted to the small of your back, and he leaned in again, his lips brushing against your ear.

 “Good. Now,” he whispered, his tone dropping into something deeper, more intimate. 

“It’s late,” he murmured against your skin, sending shivers down your spine, “and I’m not done with you yet.”

His palms slid down your sides, trailing heat everywhere they touched until his fingers hooked into the waistband of your pajama bottoms and tugged gently. “Take these off for me,” he said, his voice husky as he took a step back, just far enough to give you space but close enough that you could feel the heat radiating from him.

Your breath hitched, but you didn’t disagree. Slowly, you slid your shorts down your legs, kicking them aside, leaving only his thin t-shirt covering you. The look in his eyes darkened as his gaze traveled down your body, his lips parting slightly, his jaw tensing. He let out a low exhale, and your stomach tightened in anticipation.

He strode forward, the intensity in his eyes making your heart pound, and he slipped his hands under the hem of the shirt, fingers brushing against the softness of your thighs as it fell over your body. His eyes roamed your bare skin, making you feel exposed, vulnerable, and yet utterly desired. His fingers trailed up your sides, sliding the fabric up, inch by inch, and you raised your arms, letting him pull the shirt over your head.

Tony’s breath caught as he took you in, his gaze lingering as his hands began to explore, trailing lightly over your skin. His fingers brushed your shoulders, tracing the curve of your collarbone, and then he leaned in, his lips following the path his hands had taken. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmured against your skin, the words sending a shiver down your spine. His hand moved down your back, his fingers trailing lightly, sending sparks of pleasure through you.

He pulled you closer, his body flush against yours, his erection pressing against your hip. Your breath hitched as he moved his mouth to your neck, his teeth grazing your skin, making your knees weaken. His hand slid down to your thigh, gripping it firmly as he pulled you even closer. “You feel so good,” he breathed, his voice deep and rough. “So fucking good.”

His hands moved over your body, stroking and caressing you, exploring every inch of skin he could find. He kissed along your shoulder, his lips traveling up to your neck again, his tongue flicking out to taste your skin. His hand cupped your ass, squeezing it gently before sliding down to your thigh again, pulling your leg up to wrap around his hip.

Tony’s breath was heavy against your neck as he kissed and nibbled at the sensitive skin there. His hands moved over your body, his touch firm but gentle, making you shiver and moan. His erection pressed against you, hard and insistent, and you could feel the heat radiating off his body.

“Tony,” you breathed, his name a plea and a prayer as your fingers fisted in his shirt. He leaned back, his hands framing your face, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks, and his eyes locked with yours. His gaze was intense, almost unrelenting, but it wasn’t forceful. It was… possessive, but in a way that made your chest tighten and your breath hitch in your throat.

He leaned in, his lips feathering against yours, and you melted into him, your body softening as you kissed him back. His tongue slipped into your mouth, and you moaned softly as you kissed him deeper, your hands sliding down his chest and gripping the hem of his shirt. You pulled it up, breaking the kiss as you tugged it over his head and tossed it aside. His bare chest was warm and solid against yours, his skin smooth and taut over the muscles beneath.

Tony’s hands slid down to your hips, his fingers digging into your skin as he walked you backward until your knees hit the edge of the bed. He didn’t push you down. Instead, he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours, his breath warm on your skin, and murmured, “Lie back.”

Your heart raced as you followed his command, lying back on the bed, your legs bent and your feet flat on the mattress. He knelt down, his hands wrapping around your knees to spread your legs apart. You let out a shaky breath as his head dipped between your thighs, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin on the inside. His tongue flicked out, teasing you, and your back arched as a shiver ran through you, a soft moan escaping your lips. His hands slid up your thighs, squeezing them gently before moving down to grip your hips again. His tongue moved faster, flicking over you, and your body trembled as pleasure built inside you.

Tony’s mouth moved lower, his tongue sliding between your folds, and you gasped, one hand gripping the sheets as the other reached down to tangle in his hair. His mouth pressed against you, his tongue flicking over your clit, and you cried out, your body trembling as waves of pleasure washed over you. His hands moved up to cup your breasts, his thumbs flicking over your nipples, making you moan as your body writhed beneath him.

“Tony,” you gasped, his name falling from your lips like a prayer, your hips grinding against his mouth as the pressure built inside you, your body trembling with need as he teased and pleasured you. His eyes lifted to yours, and he smirked, his lips glistening with your arousal.

“I like hearing my name on your lips,” he said, his voice low and husky, his breath warm against your skin. “Say it again.”

“Tony,” you whispered again, your voice trembling with need as his tongue worked its magic between your thighs. His name hung in the air like a promise, and he groaned against you, the vibration sending another wave of pleasure coursing through your body. He pulled back slightly, his darkened eyes locking onto yours, and you could see the hunger there, raw and unrelenting.

“Say it again,” he demanded, his voice low and gravelly, his breath fanning over your slick flesh.

“Tony,” you moaned louder this time, your hips lifting off the bed as if to chase his mouth. His grip on your thighs tightened, and he chuckled softly, a sound that sent a shiver down your spine.

“Good girl,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your inner thigh before returning to their delicious task. His tongue swirled around your clit, teasing, and flicking, and you gasped, your fingers tightening in his hair as you arched into him. The room was filled with the sounds of your combined breaths and the wet, intimate noises of his mouth on you, driving you closer and closer to the edge.

You were teetering on the brink, your body coiled tight with tension, when Tony suddenly pulled away. You whimpered at the loss, your eyes flying open to meet his. He smirked, his lips glistening, and climbed up your body, his hands sliding under you to grip your ass as he positioned himself over you. His cock brushed against your entrance, and you shuddered, your nails digging into his shoulders.

“Not yet,” he said, his voice thick with desire. “I want to feel you.”

His words sent a jolt of heat through you, but before you could respond, he shifted his weight, rolling onto his back and pulling you with him. You straddled his waist, your knees pressing into the mattress on either side of him, and he gazed up at you, his dark eyes full of something you couldn’t quite name.

“Take what you want,” he said, his voice soft but commanding. His hands slid up your thighs, his thumbs brushing over your hip bones, and you felt a surge of power, of control, that made your breath hitch.

You leaned forward, your hands resting on his chest as you positioned yourself over him. His cock pressed against you, and you sank down slowly, inch by excruciating inch until you were fully seated on him. Tony’s head fell back, a groan tearing from his throat, and his hands gripped your hips tightly.

“Fuck,” he muttered, his voice rough, and you smiled faintly, moving your hips experimentally. His breath hitched, and you did it again, harder this time, relishing the way his eyes fluttered closed and his jaw clenched.

“You feel so good,” you whispered, your voice trembling as you began to move, rocking your hips against him. His hands moved to your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your nipples, and you gasped, your movements growing more urgent.

Tony’s eyes opened, and he watched you intently, his gaze burning into yours as you rode him. His hands slid down to your hips, guiding your movements, and you let him take control, surrendering to the rhythm he set. His thrusts grew deeper, more insistent, and you cried out, your nails scraping against his chest as pleasure built inside you.

“Don’t hold back baby,” he urged, his voice rough and demanding, and you obeyed, your body convulsing around him as waves of ecstasy crashed over you. Tony swore under his breath, his hips slamming into yours as he chased his ownrelease, and moments later, he followed you over the edge, his fingers digging into your skin as he came with a guttural groan.

You collapsed against him, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. His arms wrapped around you, holding you close, and you listened to the steady thud of his heartbeat beneath your ear. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence broken only by the sound of your breathing.

When Tony finally stirred, his hand brushed your hair back from your face, his touch gentle. “Stay with me,” he murmured, his voice soft but firm, and you nodded, curling into his side as exhaustion washed over you. His fingers trailed down your arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake, and you sighed contentedly, your eyes drifting shut.

But as you lay there, your mind began to wander, the blissful haze of afterglow giving way to thoughts you’d been trying to ignore. Tony’s hand stilled on your arm, and you glanced up at him, finding his eyes already on you.

“What is it?” he asked, his brow furrowing slightly. His thumb brushed over your cheek, and you hesitated, unsure how to voice the feelings swirling inside you.

“I just…” you began, biting your lip as you searched for the right words. “What are we doing, Tony?”

His expression softened, and he cupped your face in his hand, his thumb sweeping over your lower lip. “We’re figuring it out,” he said quietly. “One step at a time.”

You wanted to believe him, to trust that this could work, and you kinda did, but it lingered in the back of your mind. Before you could say anything else, Tony leaned in, capturing your lips in a slow, tender kiss that left you breathless. When he pulled away, his forehead rested against yours, and you closed your eyes, savoring the closeness.

“Get some sleep beautiful,” he murmured, his hand sliding down to rest on your hip. You nodded, smiling at the compliment and too tired to argue, and snuggled closer to him, letting the warmth of his body lull you into a restless sleep.

ON MY SOUL, ON MY GRANNY THIS HAD ME GEEKED OUT GAHHHHSHH. ESPECIALLY THIS EDIT WITH IT V 

(Credits: Robertsdesert on TikTok)

I hope you all like this one. Trying new story ideas and this will also have a part two soon, since it was requested 🤍

༘⋆ Part two awaits you now... ⋆˙⟡

[henneseyhoe]

What A Woman Wants; Taste

Trevante Rhodes x BLACK!FEM!Reader

WARNINGS: SMUT, Chiron an eater in this but when is he not, pussy slapping, slut shaming (kinda), fingering, dirty talk, drug use(just a luh weed) no actual PinV, !!Unedited!!.

SUMMARY: The beginning of various stories about the reader, her diary and her many favorites.

✮✮✮✮

Whore, slut, fast, hot, easy. What really is the definition of promiscuity? Maybe just a woman who sleeps around. Or someone who’s had many boyfriends and flings. Would she be a whore if she slept with a married man? What if she didn’t know? Would she still be a whore?

The word was as complex as sexual relations in itself, but in her mind, everyone was a whore. Everyone had whorish ways. Some people liked to be smacked on the ass when they fucked, some liked to be spat on, tied up, scratched, degraded, praised, and then some. So what was the problem that she got what she liked but from different people? Nothing, she thought.

She had men from one end to the other side of the pond. Short, tall, muscular, skinny, masculine, feminine, you name it. She’s seen dicks nearly the size of her forearm all over the globe. She kept track of the ones she liked in a diary and tossed the ones that were no fun.

One of her favorites who also happens to be an old classmate from college ate pussy like a starved man and only got up when she told him to, and that’s exactly how she liked her men; doing what she told them to do.

A blunt in hand and tattooed legs spread from one end of the bed to the other, he drank from her fountain, quenching his thirst as she gushed around his fingers. His other free hand softly caressed her bare pussy, fingertips dancing along her mound before they pressed against her aching clit.

Pulling his tongue from alongside his thrusting fingers, he looks down and admires the wet and dirty scene in front of him, the second pair of your lips shining like he had just applied baby oil to her.

“Pretty ass pussy”

“Yeah?”

He nods. “Mhm. Looking like this and you expect me to keep my mouth off of you?”

She hums out a moan, her pretty toes curling at that.

“I missed you all month, you might be in this position for a while”

He smirked and pulls out of her, watching as her hole winked and shrunk back to it’s small size that once accommodated his thick fingers. Pulling the hood of her clit back, the pink button pops up from underneath, greeting him with a few twitches as her pussy clenched around nothing.

“Fuck, baby…”

She watched him with just as much affection, but his eyes were too fixed on her heat to glare back at her. Blowing cold air onto the bundle of nerves, he pulls a long moan from her and he smiles in return before taking four of his fingers a licking across the tips of them, his other hand still occupied with the hood of her clit as he did so.

He pumped fake a few times, lifting that hand to her pussy and making her flinch before his hand finally came down and spanked her sensitive clit, the woman nearly dropping the spliff in her hand as her chest rises, a shock of both pain and pleasure running through her core.

“Fuck!” She breathes, smoke exiting her mouth. She was quick to sit the drug down in an ashtray laid on the bed next to her, the man on his knees in front of her still laying smacks to her pussy until her legs were shaking and she was squirting all over herself. Swirls in her stomach and stars in her eyes, she almost thanked god that her ass was halfway off of the bed so her sheets didn’t get wet but she soon realized she celebrated too early, the large palm of his hand beginning to rub her entire pussy instead and replace the teasing strikes, all of the juices that were once just falling on the hardwood floor spraying on anything within ten inches of her. That included on herself too.

She couldn’t speak and tell him to let up off of her if she wanted to, her stomach felt like it caved in as she had yet to let go of her breath to continue receiving oxygen.

He opened his mouth and welcomed all that she gave onto his tongue, a smile also playing on his face. He loved it when it was messy, wet to the point where it could be considered soaked even. His goatee covered in pussy juice showed and proved that to be true, droplets of her dripping from his chin.

Even after she was finished he still went in and licked her up from her clit to the puckering rim of her asshole, fixated upon the idea to make her cum again if she’d let him.

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💌~ startin this thang off with some good ole pussy eatin, iktr!😼💀 hope yall enjoyed tho, i think imma really enjoy this lil series just cause it’s a bunch of random shorts and not an actual storyline 😭 like everything and everyone is connected still but it doesn’t matter until brought up lmao.

[thecoochiefairy]

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ oh nothing, just posting toji visuals/visuals + vibes for the new upcoming fic˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

visuals for the girl shall be >>>>

✰ ✰ ✰ she listens to brent faiyaz ✰ ✰ ✰

🫧🫧🫧🫧🫧🫧🫧🫧🫧🫧

[2neaky]

🎤 Thank U 4 The Dono! 💿 P.2

𝑹𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒆𝒓𝑶𝒏𝒚! ♡ 𝑪𝒂𝒎𝒈𝒊𝒓𝒍𝑶𝑪! | 𝑴𝑫𝑵𝑰 -> 𝑾𝑨𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑮𝑺: size k*nk, or*al (m recieving), p in v s*x (use of a condom), tricking/“paying for p*ssy,” power-imbalance (financial), dr*g use (w*ed), heavy drinking, drunk s*x, morally grey ethics concerning modern-day s*x work and “buying” one’s consent, basically pr*stitution, objectification, egotistical Onyankopon, body mods (n*pple piercings), specific descriptions of body types, use of n-word (characters & writer are Black)

“C’mere … so fuckin’ far.” Ony seems to breathe out the words.

Even in the darkness, the look of lust is written all over him. It’s even swimming around in the air. Her eyes do a full sweep of his body, noting how wide his thick legs are spread. 

Like a minx, she slinks over from her seat and right onto the one he presents to her. 

“Mmh,” he hums, immediately snaking his arms around her small waist and dragging her up higher into his lap. 

She giggles, feeling all of him beneath her.

“You smell good.” He mumbles the words into the warm skin of her neck.

Bliss bends her head down and even sweeps all of her hair over the other shoulder to give him more access to her.

The kisses he lays there are hot and wet, pressed into her warm and soft skin. She shivers. One of his hands press into her lower stomach, keeping her from moving too much.

The pulse between her legs has grown into an ache. Every clench her pussy does is almost painful with how strong it is, even worse now that he’s hard beneath her.

God, why did she pick such a long dress? 

Without thinking, she grounds down onto him, weakly. Onyankopon’s other hand travels upwards the middle of her abdomen. 

She doesn’t focus on his lingering touch. She can’t. Not when he’s sucking a pretty bruise into the side of her neck. Her breathing quickens, and slow, tiny pants leave through her parted lips.

His traveling hand slides up between the valley of her boobs and anchors around her neck just as he lifts his mouth off of her. She bites down on her bottom lip, yet another giggle slips through her teeth.

“Thin-ass dress.” He tightens his grip around her neck. “Might as well have not worn anything.”

His deep voice and his rough hand has her pussy leaking into her panties. He lifts his hips by a fraction, and it pushes a small moan from her.

“Freaky ass lil’ bitch. Got ya titties all out—who’s it for?”

Her eyes flutter shut and she swallows thickly. 

He squeezes another moan out of her. “Hm?”

“Y-you.”

He chuckles. “Got my dick all hard, starin’ at ‘em.”

His hand finally moves, and the skin on her neck is cold. She misses it. But, that’s forgotten when both of his hands cup her heavy breasts.

Bliss arches her back, pushing them further into his warm hands. And, never one to refuse a gift, Ony squeezes them. 

Her body is weak as he plays with them, damn-near juggling them in his hands. And as he laughs, clearly amused by her body’s reaction, she can only try to keep her moans at bay.

“So pretty,” he mumbles before pressing a a kiss to the side of her face. “Pretty ass titties.”

His hands still, only cupping them. Then, his thumbs begin slow circles her pierced nipples through the dress’s thin fabric. Its tiny netting does nothing to shield her body against the gentle caress.

She turns her head to the side, her mouth open and desperate for something to plug it before an embarrassingly loud moan leaves it.

And like her knight in shining armor, Onyankopon indulges her in an open-mouth kiss. He wastes no time, sucking on her tongue.

Around her piercings, his fingers pinch and pull at her nipples. Bliss can’t help it, moaning into his mouth. Her hips rock against his, desperate to finally get on his dick.

When he finally pulls back, they can both breathe. And it’s the first time that they notice music playing through the car’s speakers. 

“Mmh, fuck,” he sighs. Ony sits back in his seat. 

Breathlessly, Bliss fixes her hair, trying to distract herself from the way her body was lit on fire from just kisses and fondling.

Ony looks around the back cavern of the car, quickly finding just what he was looking for: his bottle of Don. It’s stuffed in the side pocket of the car door, calling out for him.

Securing an arm around her waist, Ony leans forward to pick it up out of the car door’s side pocket. When he’s sits back, he pulls the top off the bottle and wastes no time taking a sip.

Busying herself, Bliss grabs her phone from its spot in the cupholder. She opens up Instagram and holds her phone up to snap a couple of clips of herself.

The near darkness of the vehicle is perfect, showing not too much nor too little for the camera to see. And every last clip stays in her drafts.

Still, she’s careful not to get Ony’s face in it, only doing close ups of her face as the music plays.

When Onyankopon finally pulls the bottle away from his face, he sees what she’s doing.

As she records another clip, she zooms in on her body, caressing herself and even showing off her pierced nipples through the dress.

A quick thought puts a smirk on his face. He interrupts, bringing his hand into frame as he squeezes one of her boobs. The ring on his pinky finger glistens under the cameras low flash.

With a surprised gasp, she cuts the clip short.

“Keep recordin’,” he says in her ear, gruffly.

“Why?” She chuckles. “You wanna be seen?”

He scoffs quietly. “That’s cute.” Shifting his hips, he pushes his dick harder against her, just for a bit of spite. “This just for you, though. Don’t post nothing.”

His nose and lips to her neck, his voice in her ear, his hands on her body—she shivers.

Pressing record again. She zooms in on his hand as it gropes her yet again. Very soon after, it slides up and wraps around her neck. She stops the video.

With a giggle, she saves it to her drafts. “Should I send it to you?” She questions, tapping away on her phone.

“Nah, keep that,” he mumbles. Turning his head, Onyankopon peers out of the window, watching the city zoom past them. “Got some other shit planned.”

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