vaeh :)

Life announcement: sorry for the slow updates but look above and you’ll understand. I been pulling so much overtime so I can afford the things I love. But since they haven’t announced any more Texas events (I’m not doing Laredo or Fort Worth, too far rn) I’m waiting for more events to drop in the near future but now I’m back to writing 😭❤️ enjoy these pictures of Jey and Jimmy from Houston. Also Space City blessed us with a Jhea picture!

by: usosgetmewetter

•••

SUMMARY: She swears she’s still mad. He doesn’t believe her…and takes his time proving it.

GENRE: Smut..very little plot.

WARNINGS: dom jey, rough sex, praise kink, oral, choking.

wc: 4.3k

JEY USO X BLACK OC ~ for your own interpretation !

•••

I let out a frustrated sigh as I plopped down onto the bed—sheets warm and freshly washed. It was a Friday night and here I was, alone…bored.

I hadn’t seen him in almost 3 days, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss him. I pulled the knot of my robe tighter, noticing it slipping loose by the second.

Where the fuck is he.

I checked the time again—9:47.

My jaw tightened. He said 8.

No text. No call. Nothing. I sucked my teeth, tossing my phone beside me..he wasn’t this quiet earlier.

So what changed?

I snatched my phone off the pillow beside me, scrolling to the Find My app—clicking straight to his location.

And to my surprise, he was pulling into the neighborhood. Took him long enough.

That’s when the idea hit me—he left me here waiting all night, so he was gonna deal with this nasty ass attitude.

As bad as I missed him, he knows his ass should’ve been here two fucking hours ago.

I scurried to the bathroom mirror, seeing his headlights sweep across the room. I did a quick once over making sure I looked good, smelled good, everything he was late for.

Then his engine cut. By then I was already back on the bed, acting like I was scrolling on my phone—knowing damn well nothing was important on that screen.

I anticipated every moment up until I heard his keys in the door. My heart sank—but I still played my role.

I heard his footsteps making their way through the kitchen and up the stairs.

When he finally came through the door, without even looking at him—I could tell he was irritated. The cadence of his steps was slow and heavy, he set his bag down a little harder than usual—but I didn’t care.

I didn’t bother to make eye contact, greet him before he greeted me, not even a glance.

I could feel his stare burning into my back, and still…I never turned around.

“Hey, mama,” he muttered across the room, dropping onto the opposite side of the bed.

I rolled my eyes, tapping my screen a little louder than necessary.

“Hi,” I replied dryly. No “baby”, no hug, no kiss. He was gonna feel every last bit of my frustration.

I heard him pause mid untie of his shoe. “…What’s wrong wit you?” His voice ticked up at the end.

I let out a slow, irritated sigh—dragging it out on purpose—before scooting up closer to the headboard.

“Nothing.”

Flat and cold—a lie.

He smacked his lips, getting up to go close the door—the click of the lock echoing a little too loud in the room, sending a quiet pulse through my stomach.

“Moni.” His voice dropped, irritation deep in his throat.

“Hm?” I didn’t look up, didn’t blink. Just engulfed in my phone like I really had business in it.

He watched me for a second, I could feel it, before breathing out through his nose, shaking his head as he started meddling with the things on his nightstand.

I was starting to irritate myself at this point. Still no explanation. Still no “my bad.” Nothing.

My jaw clenched.

I shut my phone off, slamming it onto the nightstand. He looked up at me immediately.

I pushed off the bed, walking across the room with deliberate and heavy step. Flipped the light off and climbed back into bed like I was done with him.

Yo…the fuck is wrong wit you?” He asked, growing more agitated by the second.

Finally, I turned my head just enough to look at him.

“Nothing, Joshua. Damn.” My tone snapped. Sharper than before.

And for a second, I forgot why I was even acting like this.

He looked soooo good right now. Black tee hugging his muscles, sweats low, gold chain catching the dim light, grill flashing when his jaw clenched.

It annoyed me more.

I rolled back over, attitude settling deeper in my body now.

“You over here slammin’ stuff, turning lights off n shit…” he gestured towards the wall. “What the fuck is yo’ problem?” This time, he nudged my shoulder.

I ignored him. Shut my eyes like I was really about to go to sleep.

“Harmoni.”

…Silence.

He shook his head, getting up and shuffling angrily to the bathroom—and I still ignored the fuck outta him.

I heard him moving around, still talking.

“Ain’t give me no kiss, hug—not shit. You trippin’, bro.”

That made me sit up, cause…tf?

“You think you deserve that?” I muttered low, but cutting. “Comin’ home late as fuck. Boy…” I mumbled, careful with my tone.

“What?” He snapped, eyes locked on me.

“You heard me.” I dropped back to the pillow, like I wasn’t even pressed.

He stormed out the bathroom, tearing his shirt off in one quick motion—his tatted muscles now on full display.

“Harmoni…I’m not in the fuckin’ mood.” His voice muffled under the shirt he was taking off.

“Shut the fuck up then.” I shot back, burying my face deeper until the pillow.

The room went still.

That made him pause in his tracks, like he couldn’t believe what I just said.

“…fuck you just say to me?”

My stomach flipped nervously, knowing where this would go if I kept on. My thighs pressed together at the thought.

I sat up slowly, meeting his stare.

I let out another sigh, folding my arms. “You were supposed to be here 2 hours ago.”

He turned up his lip, brows furrowing together. “That’s what you trippin’ off of?”

He laughed humorlessly, shaking his head—twisting something in my chest.

“Something funny?” I hissed, popping my neck at him.

His fingers hooked into drawstrings of his pants, tugging them loose enough just to distract me. The sight soaking my panties.

“You better lose this fuckin’ attitude, Moni.” His voice cut low.

“Before it’s drippin’ out you onto these damn covers.” He added, pointing down at the freshly washed sheets.

Heat surged straight through me, my thighs pressing back together—harder this time.

Damn it.

“…Yeah. That ass quiet now.” He teased, stepping closer to my side of the bed.

I was feeling bold in the moment, not thinking about where my words would wind me up but—“Boy, fuck you.” I spat.

His face went from amused, to outright pissed.

He huffed out a quiet breath, almost like a laugh—but there was nothing funny about it.

He stepped closer to the bed—to me. Slow.

One step. Then another.

“Yeah?” he muttered, head tilting slightly as he looked down at me. “That how you talkin’ to me now?”

My thighs pressed together even tighter, but I held his stare.

Wrong move.

His hand shot out, wrapping around my neck before I could even think twice.

His grip grew tighter—not too painful..but enough to restrict my airway. My lips parted, fear settling in my chest…but I also liked it. A lot.

I reached for his wrist, fingers wrapping around it—not to stop him but just to hold on.

He eased us onto the bed, grip still firm on my throat.

“You still got somethin’ to say?,” he murmured.

I swallowed, trying to steady my breathing.

I hesitated, “…yes.” Even I didn’t believe how that came out.

His eyebrow lifted slightly.

“…yeah?” he said, low.

His free hand traced slowly down my thigh—light, but deliberate.

Waiting. Like he knew I’d crack first.

I turned my head, trying to hold onto my attitude—but it was slipping fast.

That only made him smirk. He knew.

He was hovering me now—big, muscular body hovering mine, his knee forcing its way between my legs.

His bottom lip was tucked slightly between his teeth, gaze dropping from my eyes to my mouth.

He leaned in, body caging mine in completely now—our lips finally met. His grip loosened on my neck, my hands cupping his face.

The kiss tasted metallic, remnants of his grill now on my tongue.

“We gon’ fix this shit.” He rasped against my mouth. “Right now.” He growled.

He kissed down my body—from my neck, to my stomach, to between my thighs. Small, shaky gasps left my lips between each kiss.

I felt myself giving into the moment. More specifically, giving into him.

I was finally getting the attention I’d been craving. Was I still pissed off? Yes. But that didn’t matter.

His big hands pushed my thighs up, making my robe scrunch around my waist.

He tugged my panties off, no gentleness—just pure agitation and ego.

He rubbed the pads of his fingers against my clit, then down to my wetness—groaning in approval.

My hips bucked toward him instinctively, even though I wanted to resist a little longer.

“Josh—B-baby wait.” I pleaded.

He glanced up at me, eyes filled with lust and hunger.

“Nah…all that shit you was just talkin’.” He reminded, burying his face between my legs.

The lewd sound of his lips latching onto my clit echoing against my thighs.

I moaned so loud, it was nearly embarrassing.

“Fuck, you wet.” He praised, thick fingers slipping inside as I combusted above him.

He mouthed my clit while his fingers worked magic, “You was ready for me to come tear up this pussy, huh?” His breath against my clit sending shivers down my spine

“Oh my—FUCK!” I gasped. My toes curled into nothing, eyes rolling back deep into my head.

I felt the impending paradise in my stomach, hips bucking at him faster—longing for my release.

My hands tangled in his hair, back arching off the mattress. The attitude I had minutes ago being fucked out of me like he promised. My moans came out soft and needy.

“Baby, oh my Goddd.” I cried out.

Then—he stopped, licking my essence off his fingers.

My breaths were shallow and shaky, still recovering. I peeked at him from between my legs, watching as he fumbled with the drawstrings of his pants once more, then pulling them down completely.

His dick was pressed against his boxers—thick, hard, and leaking.

I swore I could see the outline of his veins.

He crawled back on top of me, us immediately falling back into a kiss. I could feel him stroking himself between my legs, simultaneously rubbing his tip through my folds.

He pushed in slow and deep. We moaned in sync as he bottomed out.

He worked into a mind-bending, soul-snatching rhythm. Slow, and nasty—his tip pressing into the deepest part of my pussy pulling a dirty moan straight from my throat.

“It feel good, baby?” He asked, head burying into my neck.

“Yesss,” I cried out. “Fuck, yes.”

My arms wrapped around his back, pulling him closer (if that was even possible).

This slow fuck only lasted all of 45 seconds before he rose up out of my arms, his hands at either side of my head—pace picking up out of nowhere.

My dragged out, soft whines, turned into broken gasps.

He drilled into my pussy with no mercy, the sound of skin on skin filling the room.

He grunted, “All that mouth you had..look at you now.”

My fingers tightened in the sheets, chest rising unevenly.

I swallowed.

“…You still ain’t say where you was at,” I managed, voice small—but stubborn.

That made him pause.

His hips stuttered, just for a second, before slowing down.

“…You still on that?” he asked, low.

A moan rumbled in my chest, “You had me waiting.” Even with my voice shaking, I meant it.

He scoffed, amused at my effort to uphold this attitude, “I’m here now…” He breathed against my ear. “Tearin’ up this pussy.”

I’d never admit it out loud, but that alone—nearly sent me off edge.

My neck found its way into his grasp again—his thumb pressing just enough to make my breath catch. Then his pace picked up.

I gasped—for air and because it felt so fucking good.

My hands gripped the sheets even harder, giving him full leverage. “Waittt—“ I pleaded. I could hardly even finished the sentence, partly because the pleasure, and partly because his grip was so tight I could barely get the words out.

He was pummeling into me like there was no tomorrow.

“You gon’ watch that mouth, you hear me?” He asked, sweat beading on his temple.

I barely had time to answer me before he slammed into me with one hard stroke, and back into his punishing pace.

His grip tightened, “Look at me when I’m talkin’ to you.” He grunted.

I hesitated—just for a second, then my eyes snapped open.

What fuck did I get myself into.

“Fuck you think this is?” He growled.

The tears fell now, not because I was in pain—well, yes I was struggling, but it felt like heaven.

God I hated how I was supposed to be mad but he was fucking me like this.

I felt it again—that addicting feeling of my climax, coming closer by the second.

My eyes started to roll back into my head, mouth falling open. “I’m finna—“ my words caught in my throat.

His hand went from my neck to my wrists, pinning them firm against the mattress.

“You finna what, baby?” He asked, digging deep—knowing it was driving me insane.

I shut my eyes tighter, maybe that would shut out his words—it didn’t.

I shook my head frantically, “..nothing.”

He tilted his head, watching me. Knowing. “Nah, say it.” He pressed.

My voice dropped below a whisper, “Fuck, I’m so close.”

He slowed down, on purpose—knowing it pulled me further from the edge

A less punishing rhythm, angling his hips to hit my spot—the bed creaking with every stroke, hands no longer restraining my wrists.

His hand slid down to my clit, tracing gentle circles over it. I sucked in a sharp breath, arms wrapping around his back, arching into him. That was different.

“Don’t stop. Please don’t fuckin’ s-stop.” I cried out in a moment of weakness.

He smirked, amused at my desperation.

“Oh you beggin’ now, mama?” He asked rhetorically.

He sounded satisfied, like he was waiting for that.

I moaned in response, pulling him closer.

He fingers teased faster, walls fluttering around him.

“There it go.” He said, that cocky grin on his face.

He rolled into me, deep and intentional, watching me lose my mind as he fucked me stupid.

He watched me struggle beneath him—mouth wide, panting and whining.

I turned my head, avoiding his eyes.

He didn’t let me. His fingers caught my chin, pulling my gaze back to his.

“Look at you,” he said—softer this time. “Ain’t got nothin’ to say now.”

I swallowed—but didn’t say anything.

I was immediately pulled back into ecstasy, the building orgasm swirling in my stomach about to release at any second.

His fingers circled faster and then—it hit.

A dizzying, soul-crushing orgasm crashed over me. My body trembled violently—back arching hard off the mattress.

“Unnnnhhhh—Fuck,” I whined into his neck.

He fucked me through it, the veins on his dick pulsing against my walls.

I was supposed to be mad at him—yet, here I was. Being fucked out of my mind, self respect out the window.

“You still mad?”

I was so far gone, I almost didn’t hear him.

“…don’t sound like it,” he murmured before engulfing my mouth with his.

He was still moving inside me, I was still clutched around him like a vice. My moans echoing into his mouth.

However, I was still mad—as hell.

I hesitatedbefore I spoke, “…You was still late,” my words coming out shaky, but I was not letting up.

He scoffed, “You just gon’ keep on, ain’t you?”

I fought the moan begging to slip out my throat. “Cause you…” My voice faltered, this man was moving so deep in my guts I nearly had no rebuttal.

“Cause you don’t fuckin’ listen.” I snapped, not as firm as I wanted to.

He slid out with a faint pop.

“…You don’t either.”

My breath hitched.

Before I could say something else smart, he flipped me over in one quick motion. I yelped as my face slammed into the pillow.

Without warning, he crashed into me from behind. “Oh fuck!” I cried out into the pillows under me. My hands dug into the sheets, bracing.

“You still got somethin’ to say?” He rasped, hand pressing my arch deeper. “Go head. Say it now.”

“I-“ My voice cut off. Not because I didn’t have anything to say, but because it wouldn’t come out right.

He put one hand on the headboard—nearly putting me through it but his other hand was still firm on my back, holding me still.

He noticed my silence, “What happened to all that lip? You was just cussin’ me out, wasn’t you?” A hint of smirk in his voice.

I had no protest. With every thrust, he was snatching the air from my lungs—so much so that it became audible.

“Ans—wer—me.” He grunted, each syllable in sync with a treacherous thrust.

“I—c-can’ttt.” I finally got out, barely above a breath.

And just when I thought it couldn’t get anymore intense—he put one leg up, hitting at a new angle now.

I hissed at the new sensation, “SHIT—.”

I reached back in between us, hand pressed against his stomach—the hairs from his happy trail pricking my palm, sweat making his skin sticky.

Both of his hands slid down—gripping tighter, pulling me back into him before I could move any further.

“Unt unt,” he muttered low. “Stay right there.”

I whined helplessly into the pillow. Acting mad was out of the question—not when he had me like this.

“Go head,” He pressed, “Say it again.”

I opened my mouth to say something, anything—

…Nothing.

My fingers were numb at this point, my grip on the sheets weakening.

He took one of his hands and pulled me up by my neck—bending it back so that I could meet his gaze.

“Come on…” he murmured, “Talk that shit.”

“You had a lot to say a few minutes ago.” Each word he spoke flashing the gold from his grillz.

My throat burned from being bent back like that.

I opened my mouth to speak, only to be met with the brute force behind me.

It was at this moment that I started to regretted what I’d said, I had nothing left in me.

“That’s what the fuck I thought.” He rasped.

I thought my back might give out at any given second.

Both our bodies were slicked in sweat—him more than me. My hair stuck to my forehead, my essence dripping down my thighs.

Without a word, he took his hand from my neck and shoved my head back into the pillow. Now he had full advantage, his full strength against my spent, tired body.

I was so overwhelmed I barely registered it at first.

That second wave creeping in.

That’s when the pain, turned into pleasure—a feeling I couldn’t describe.

“Oh my God—right-r-right there.” I moaned desperately.

His hand pressed my head further into the pillow, my vision clouded from the white pillowcase.

“You done?” he asked, low.

I had nothing left in me to resist. I couldn’t argue, couldn’t yell, hell I could barely speak.

I nodded against pillows, dreading giving him the satisfaction of actually saying it.

But to my demise, “Unt unt.” He grunted.

“Say it…tell me you done.”

I groaned out of frustration, swallowing my pride as my breath came uneven, “…i’m doneee.”

He watched me for a second—really watched me. Then he exhaled softly, shaking his head.

His pace slowed—still deep, but not as unforgiving.

More controlled and deliberate.

I should’ve still been mad. I knew that.

But the way he had me now—I couldn’t even hold onto it. I wanted him deeper, if anything.

He leaned over me slightly, his chest brushing my back.

“Relax,” voice dropping closer to my ear.

My grip on the sheets loosened. Instead of pulling away—I pressed back into him.

A low, intimate moan rumbled in his throat. I knew that sound, the one he made when he was getting close.

“You sure you done?” he asked, warm breath brushing my ear.

“…or you still got that smart ass mouth?”

I shook my head, panting into the damp pillow, “..i’m done, baby.” I breathed out.

His hand slipped back down between my legs, fingers finding my sweet spot—pulling a high pitched moan straight from my throat. “Oh my God—“

“Mhm..” He hummed. “Now tell daddy you sorry.”

All I could think about was how close I was, aching to fall off the edge.

“Moni.” He growled, snapping me back into reality.

“…Hm?” I whined.

Suddenly, he threatened to deny my orgasm, retreating his hand. “I said—say it.” He demanded. “You fuckin’ sorry or not?”

I couldn’t believe him. Feeling myself lose the sensation, desperately—

“I’m sorry…“ I started, words fading into a whisper.

“Huh? I can’t hear you, mama.”

I exhaled shakily, trying to ground myself. “..I’m sorryyy,” exhaustion dragging out my half-hearted apology.

His hand dipped low, back between my legs. “Good, girl.” He praised quietly, kissing my temple.

My breath hitched.

He let out a low breath through his nose, something between irritation and realization.

“This what you wanted, huh?”

“Couldn’t just say you missed me?” he added, tone rough but not as sharp.

“Had to do all that extra shit?”

I didn’t answer, didn’t have it in me to. All my thoughts blurred into one another.

He noticed. Of course he did.

But my focus faltered, the aching knot in my stomach ready to come undone. I grabbed his hand that was between my legs, feeling the overstimulation building.

“Uh-huh. Gimme’ that nut.” He demanded—and I did.

I came even harder this time—moaning so loud, I even surprised myself. My body shook violently—even when he’d slowed down, my legs could not stop shaking.

He stroked deeper, “Mmmm,” moaning against my ear.

The sound vibrating against my back.

“Fuck,” I whispered, coming down from high.

He rocked into me, dragging out his hips in long, deliberate strokes.

“That attitude was cute for a second,” he said low, “but you ain’t built to keep it up with me. You know that.”

Before I could form another thought, he was back on top of me, the motion knocking the air in my throat into his mouth.

He pushed my legs apart, calloused hands gripping the back of my thighs.

He moaned quietly, then again, louder—right into my neck.

I found it ironic how he teased me through my nut but was crumbling about to get his off.

“Fuckkk…Moni,” he exhaled, voice rough, strained.

I’d be lying if I said his moans didn’t turn me on.

His forehead pressed against mine, breath uneven, mixing with mine in the small space between us.

My hands slid up, cupping his face, pulling him closer without thinking. He pushed my legs back further, sharp gasp trembling out of me.

I felt the shift in him before anything else, the way his body tensed, the way his rhythm lost its control.

“Ouuu…I’m finna nut.” He breathed.

I opened my eyes to see his expression: eyebrows knitted together, mouth hanging open

One stroke, slower. Another, deeper. Then—

his body locked against mines, guttural sounds of pleasure spilling out from him as his body gave in.

His waist trembled into mine. “Shittt,” he moaned. I pulled him close—my arms wrapping around his back, his seed settling deep inside me—warm and heavy.

He panted, breath evening out as he came down from his high, body collapsing gently into mines.

We stayed like this for a minute, hadn’t fully coming back down yet.

Neither of us said anything, just breathing.

The room felt different now—quieter, but not empty. Thick with everything that had just happened.

Then finally, he exhaled—long and slow—rolling onto his back. His arm latched on to me, flipping me onto his chest.

My body melted into him, drained.

His hand slid up my side, slower now, absent-minded. Like he wasn’t even thinking about it.

I swallowed, staring at nothing in the dark room, my body still catching up with everything.

“…you good?” he asked after a minute, voice lower now. Not sharp. Not teasing, just checking.

I let out a quiet breath. “…mhm.”

A pause.

Then—

“So,” he muttered. “You still mad…”

His hand slid across the small of my back.

“or you just needed me to fix that attitude?”

rolled my eyes, “…whatever.”

He let out low chuckle under his breath like that answer was enough, sliding from my side before he shifted, easing me off him as he sat up at the edge of the bed.

The room felt colder without him.

He dragged a hand down his face, then glanced back at me—laid out, still catching my breath.

A small smirk tugged at his mouth.

“C’mon,” he muttered, nodding toward the bathroom. “Before you pass out on me.”

I didn’t move.

He huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head as he stood.

“Don’t take too long,” he added, voice low. “I ain’t say I was done with you.”

I rolled my eyes again, turning to the wall.

“You so annoying.” I muttered under my breath. I laid there for a second, like I was really gonna stay.

Then I pushed myself up with a quiet sigh, legs still unsteady and followed after him anyway.

•••

A/N: heyyy yall :p this was my first attempt at a one shot so pls bare with me lol. i saw #that video of him on twitter and lost my damn mind 🫩. anywayss, lmk what yall thought! more stuff coming soon.

—open to any advice!

by: usosgetmewetter

•••

SUMMARY: She swears she’s still mad. He doesn’t believe her…and takes his time proving it.

GENRE: Smut..very little plot.

WARNINGS: dom jey, rough sex, praise kink, oral, choking.

wc: 4.3k

JEY USO X BLACK OC ~ for your own interpretation !

•••

I let out a frustrated sigh as I plopped down onto the bed—sheets warm and freshly washed. It was a Friday night and here I was, alone…bored.

I hadn’t seen him in almost 3 days, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss him. I pulled the knot of my robe tighter, noticing it slipping loose by the second.

Where the fuck is he.

I checked the time again—9:47.

My jaw tightened. He said 8.

No text. No call. Nothing. I sucked my teeth, tossing my phone beside me..he wasn’t this quiet earlier.

So what changed?

I snatched my phone off the pillow beside me, scrolling to the Find My app—clicking straight to his location.

And to my surprise, he was pulling into the neighborhood. Took him long enough.

That’s when the idea hit me—he left me here waiting all night, so he was gonna deal with this nasty ass attitude.

As bad as I missed him, he knows his ass should’ve been here two fucking hours ago.

I scurried to the bathroom mirror, seeing his headlights sweep across the room. I did a quick once over making sure I looked good, smelled good, everything he was late for.

Then his engine cut. By then I was already back on the bed, acting like I was scrolling on my phone—knowing damn well nothing was important on that screen.

I anticipated every moment up until I heard his keys in the door. My heart sank—but I still played my role.

I heard his footsteps making their way through the kitchen and up the stairs.

When he finally came through the door, without even looking at him—I could tell he was irritated. The cadence of his steps was slow and heavy, he set his bag down a little harder than usual—but I didn’t care.

I didn’t bother to make eye contact, greet him before he greeted me, not even a glance.

I could feel his stare burning into my back, and still…I never turned around.

“Hey, mama,” he muttered across the room, dropping onto the opposite side of the bed.

I rolled my eyes, tapping my screen a little louder than necessary.

“Hi,” I replied dryly. No “baby”, no hug, no kiss. He was gonna feel every last bit of my frustration.

I heard him pause mid untie of his shoe. “…What’s wrong wit you?” His voice ticked up at the end.

I let out a slow, irritated sigh—dragging it out on purpose—before scooting up closer to the headboard.

“Nothing.”

Flat and cold—a lie.

He smacked his lips, getting up to go close the door—the click of the lock echoing a little too loud in the room, sending a quiet pulse through my stomach.

“Moni.” His voice dropped, irritation deep in his throat.

“Hm?” I didn’t look up, didn’t blink. Just engulfed in my phone like I really had business in it.

He watched me for a second, I could feel it, before breathing out through his nose, shaking his head as he started meddling with the things on his nightstand.

I was starting to irritate myself at this point. Still no explanation. Still no “my bad.” Nothing.

My jaw clenched.

I shut my phone off, slamming it onto the nightstand. He looked up at me immediately.

I pushed off the bed, walking across the room with deliberate and heavy step. Flipped the light off and climbed back into bed like I was done with him.

Yo…the fuck is wrong wit you?” He asked, growing more agitated by the second.

Finally, I turned my head just enough to look at him.

“Nothing, Joshua. Damn.” My tone snapped. Sharper than before.

And for a second, I forgot why I was even acting like this.

He looked soooo good right now. Black tee hugging his muscles, sweats low, gold chain catching the dim light, grill flashing when his jaw clenched.

It annoyed me more.

I rolled back over, attitude settling deeper in my body now.

“You over here slammin’ stuff, turning lights off n shit…” he gestured towards the wall. “What the fuck is yo’ problem?” This time, he nudged my shoulder.

I ignored him. Shut my eyes like I was really about to go to sleep.

“Harmoni.”

…Silence.

He shook his head, getting up and shuffling angrily to the bathroom—and I still ignored the fuck outta him.

I heard him moving around, still talking.

“Ain’t give me no kiss, hug—not shit. You trippin’, bro.”

That made me sit up, cause…tf?

“You think you deserve that?” I muttered low, but cutting. “Comin’ home late as fuck. Boy…” I mumbled, careful with my tone.

“What?” He snapped, eyes locked on me.

“You heard me.” I dropped back to the pillow, like I wasn’t even pressed.

He stormed out the bathroom, tearing his shirt off in one quick motion—his tatted muscles now on full display.

“Harmoni…I’m not in the fuckin’ mood.” His voice muffled under the shirt he was taking off.

“Shut the fuck up then.” I shot back, burying my face deeper until the pillow.

The room went still.

That made him pause in his tracks, like he couldn’t believe what I just said.

“…fuck you just say to me?”

My stomach flipped nervously, knowing where this would go if I kept on. My thighs pressed together at the thought.

I sat up slowly, meeting his stare.

I let out another sigh, folding my arms. “You were supposed to be here 2 hours ago.”

He turned up his lip, brows furrowing together. “That’s what you trippin’ off of?”

He laughed humorlessly, shaking his head—twisting something in my chest.

“Something funny?” I hissed, popping my neck at him.

His fingers hooked into drawstrings of his pants, tugging them loose enough just to distract me. The sight soaking my panties.

“You better lose this fuckin’ attitude, Moni.” His voice cut low.

“Before it’s drippin’ out you onto these damn covers.” He added, pointing down at the freshly washed sheets.

Heat surged straight through me, my thighs pressing back together—harder this time.

Damn it.

“…Yeah. That ass quiet now.” He teased, stepping closer to my side of the bed.

I was feeling bold in the moment, not thinking about where my words would wind me up but—“Boy, fuck you.” I spat.

His face went from amused, to outright pissed.

He huffed out a quiet breath, almost like a laugh—but there was nothing funny about it.

He stepped closer to the bed—to me. Slow.

One step. Then another.

“Yeah?” he muttered, head tilting slightly as he looked down at me. “That how you talkin’ to me now?”

My thighs pressed together even tighter, but I held his stare.

Wrong move.

His hand shot out, wrapping around my neck before I could even think twice.

His grip grew tighter—not too painful..but enough to restrict my airway. My lips parted, fear settling in my chest…but I also liked it. A lot.

I reached for his wrist, fingers wrapping around it—not to stop him but just to hold on.

He eased us onto the bed, grip still firm on my throat.

“You still got somethin’ to say?,” he murmured.

I swallowed, trying to steady my breathing.

I hesitated, “…yes.” Even I didn’t believe how that came out.

His eyebrow lifted slightly.

“…yeah?” he said, low.

His free hand traced slowly down my thigh—light, but deliberate.

Waiting. Like he knew I’d crack first.

I turned my head, trying to hold onto my attitude—but it was slipping fast.

That only made him smirk. He knew.

He was hovering me now—big, muscular body hovering mine, his knee forcing its way between my legs.

His bottom lip was tucked slightly between his teeth, gaze dropping from my eyes to my mouth.

He leaned in, body caging mine in completely now—our lips finally met. His grip loosened on my neck, my hands cupping his face.

The kiss tasted metallic, remnants of his grill now on my tongue.

“We gon’ fix this shit.” He rasped against my mouth. “Right now.” He growled.

He kissed down my body—from my neck, to my stomach, to between my thighs. Small, shaky gasps left my lips between each kiss.

I felt myself giving into the moment. More specifically, giving into him.

I was finally getting the attention I’d been craving. Was I still pissed off? Yes. But that didn’t matter.

His big hands pushed my thighs up, making my robe scrunch around my waist.

He tugged my panties off, no gentleness—just pure agitation and ego.

He rubbed the pads of his fingers against my clit, then down to my wetness—groaning in approval.

My hips bucked toward him instinctively, even though I wanted to resist a little longer.

“Josh—B-baby wait.” I pleaded.

He glanced up at me, eyes filled with lust and hunger.

“Nah…all that shit you was just talkin’.” He reminded, burying his face between my legs.

The lewd sound of his lips latching onto my clit echoing against my thighs.

I moaned so loud, it was nearly embarrassing.

“Fuck, you wet.” He praised, thick fingers slipping inside as I combusted above him.

He mouthed my clit while his fingers worked magic, “You was ready for me to come tear up this pussy, huh?” His breath against my clit sending shivers down my spine

“Oh my—FUCK!” I gasped. My toes curled into nothing, eyes rolling back deep into my head.

I felt the impending paradise in my stomach, hips bucking at him faster—longing for my release.

My hands tangled in his hair, back arching off the mattress. The attitude I had minutes ago being fucked out of me like he promised. My moans came out soft and needy.

“Baby, oh my Goddd.” I cried out.

Then—he stopped, licking my essence off his fingers.

My breaths were shallow and shaky, still recovering. I peeked at him from between my legs, watching as he fumbled with the drawstrings of his pants once more, then pulling them down completely.

His dick was pressed against his boxers—thick, hard, and leaking.

I swore I could see the outline of his veins.

He crawled back on top of me, us immediately falling back into a kiss. I could feel him stroking himself between my legs, simultaneously rubbing his tip through my folds.

He pushed in slow and deep. We moaned in sync as he bottomed out.

He worked into a mind-bending, soul-snatching rhythm. Slow, and nasty—his tip pressing into the deepest part of my pussy pulling a dirty moan straight from my throat.

“It feel good, baby?” He asked, head burying into my neck.

“Yesss,” I cried out. “Fuck, yes.”

My arms wrapped around his back, pulling him closer (if that was even possible).

This slow fuck only lasted all of 45 seconds before he rose up out of my arms, his hands at either side of my head—pace picking up out of nowhere.

My dragged out, soft whines, turned into broken gasps.

He drilled into my pussy with no mercy, the sound of skin on skin filling the room.

He grunted, “All that mouth you had..look at you now.”

My fingers tightened in the sheets, chest rising unevenly.

I swallowed.

“…You still ain’t say where you was at,” I managed, voice small—but stubborn.

That made him pause.

His hips stuttered, just for a second, before slowing down.

“…You still on that?” he asked, low.

A moan rumbled in my chest, “You had me waiting.” Even with my voice shaking, I meant it.

He scoffed, amused at my effort to uphold this attitude, “I’m here now…” He breathed against my ear. “Tearin’ up this pussy.”

I’d never admit it out loud, but that alone—nearly sent me off edge.

My neck found its way into his grasp again—his thumb pressing just enough to make my breath catch. Then his pace picked up.

I gasped—for air and because it felt so fucking good.

My hands gripped the sheets even harder, giving him full leverage. “Waittt—“ I pleaded. I could hardly even finished the sentence, partly because the pleasure, and partly because his grip was so tight I could barely get the words out.

He was pummeling into me like there was no tomorrow.

“You gon’ watch that mouth, you hear me?” He asked, sweat beading on his temple.

I barely had time to answer me before he slammed into me with one hard stroke, and back into his punishing pace.

His grip tightened, “Look at me when I’m talkin’ to you.” He grunted.

I hesitated—just for a second, then my eyes snapped open.

What fuck did I get myself into.

“Fuck you think this is?” He growled.

The tears fell now, not because I was in pain—well, yes I was struggling, but it felt like heaven.

God I hated how I was supposed to be mad but he was fucking me like this.

I felt it again—that addicting feeling of my climax, coming closer by the second.

My eyes started to roll back into my head, mouth falling open. “I’m finna—“ my words caught in my throat.

His hand went from my neck to my wrists, pinning them firm against the mattress.

“You finna what, baby?” He asked, digging deep—knowing it was driving me insane.

I shut my eyes tighter, maybe that would shut out his words—it didn’t.

I shook my head frantically, “..nothing.”

He tilted his head, watching me. Knowing. “Nah, say it.” He pressed.

My voice dropped below a whisper, “Fuck, I’m so close.”

He slowed down, on purpose—knowing it pulled me further from the edge

A less punishing rhythm, angling his hips to hit my spot—the bed creaking with every stroke, hands no longer restraining my wrists.

His hand slid down to my clit, tracing gentle circles over it. I sucked in a sharp breath, arms wrapping around his back, arching into him. That was different.

“Don’t stop. Please don’t fuckin’ s-stop.” I cried out in a moment of weakness.

He smirked, amused at my desperation.

“Oh you beggin’ now, mama?” He asked rhetorically.

He sounded satisfied, like he was waiting for that.

I moaned in response, pulling him closer.

He fingers teased faster, walls fluttering around him.

“There it go.” He said, that cocky grin on his face.

He rolled into me, deep and intentional, watching me lose my mind as he fucked me stupid.

He watched me struggle beneath him—mouth wide, panting and whining.

I turned my head, avoiding his eyes.

He didn’t let me. His fingers caught my chin, pulling my gaze back to his.

“Look at you,” he said—softer this time. “Ain’t got nothin’ to say now.”

I swallowed—but didn’t say anything.

I was immediately pulled back into ecstasy, the building orgasm swirling in my stomach about to release at any second.

His fingers circled faster and then—it hit.

A dizzying, soul-crushing orgasm crashed over me. My body trembled violently—back arching hard off the mattress.

“Unnnnhhhh—Fuck,” I whined into his neck.

He fucked me through it, the veins on his dick pulsing against my walls.

I was supposed to be mad at him—yet, here I was. Being fucked out of my mind, self respect out the window.

“You still mad?”

I was so far gone, I almost didn’t hear him.

“…don’t sound like it,” he murmured before engulfing my mouth with his.

He was still moving inside me, I was still clutched around him like a vice. My moans echoing into his mouth.

However, I was still mad—as hell.

I hesitatedbefore I spoke, “…You was still late,” my words coming out shaky, but I was not letting up.

He scoffed, “You just gon’ keep on, ain’t you?”

I fought the moan begging to slip out my throat. “Cause you…” My voice faltered, this man was moving so deep in my guts I nearly had no rebuttal.

“Cause you don’t fuckin’ listen.” I snapped, not as firm as I wanted to.

He slid out with a faint pop.

“…You don’t either.”

My breath hitched.

Before I could say something else smart, he flipped me over in one quick motion. I yelped as my face slammed into the pillow.

Without warning, he crashed into me from behind. “Oh fuck!” I cried out into the pillows under me. My hands dug into the sheets, bracing.

“You still got somethin’ to say?” He rasped, hand pressing my arch deeper. “Go head. Say it now.”

“I-“ My voice cut off. Not because I didn’t have anything to say, but because it wouldn’t come out right.

He put one hand on the headboard—nearly putting me through it but his other hand was still firm on my back, holding me still.

He noticed my silence, “What happened to all that lip? You was just cussin’ me out, wasn’t you?” A hint of smirk in his voice.

I had no protest. With every thrust, he was snatching the air from my lungs—so much so that it became audible.

“Ans—wer—me.” He grunted, each syllable in sync with a treacherous thrust.

“I—c-can’ttt.” I finally got out, barely above a breath.

And just when I thought it couldn’t get anymore intense—he put one leg up, hitting at a new angle now.

I hissed at the new sensation, “SHIT—.”

I reached back in between us, hand pressed against his stomach—the hairs from his happy trail pricking my palm, sweat making his skin sticky.

Both of his hands slid down—gripping tighter, pulling me back into him before I could move any further.

“Unt unt,” he muttered low. “Stay right there.”

I whined helplessly into the pillow. Acting mad was out of the question—not when he had me like this.

“Go head,” He pressed, “Say it again.”

I opened my mouth to say something, anything—

…Nothing.

My fingers were numb at this point, my grip on the sheets weakening.

He took one of his hands and pulled me up by my neck—bending it back so that I could meet his gaze.

“Come on…” he murmured, “Talk that shit.”

“You had a lot to say a few minutes ago.” Each word he spoke flashing the gold from his grillz.

My throat burned from being bent back like that.

I opened my mouth to speak, only to be met with the brute force behind me.

It was at this moment that I started to regretted what I’d said, I had nothing left in me.

“That’s what the fuck I thought.” He rasped.

I thought my back might give out at any given second.

Both our bodies were slicked in sweat—him more than me. My hair stuck to my forehead, my essence dripping down my thighs.

Without a word, he took his hand from my neck and shoved my head back into the pillow. Now he had full advantage, his full strength against my spent, tired body.

I was so overwhelmed I barely registered it at first.

That second wave creeping in.

That’s when the pain, turned into pleasure—a feeling I couldn’t describe.

“Oh my God—right-r-right there.” I moaned desperately.

His hand pressed my head further into the pillow, my vision clouded from the white pillowcase.

“You done?” he asked, low.

I had nothing left in me to resist. I couldn’t argue, couldn’t yell, hell I could barely speak.

I nodded against pillows, dreading giving him the satisfaction of actually saying it.

But to my demise, “Unt unt.” He grunted.

“Say it…tell me you done.”

I groaned out of frustration, swallowing my pride as my breath came uneven, “…i’m doneee.”

He watched me for a second—really watched me. Then he exhaled softly, shaking his head.

His pace slowed—still deep, but not as unforgiving.

More controlled and deliberate.

I should’ve still been mad. I knew that.

But the way he had me now—I couldn’t even hold onto it. I wanted him deeper, if anything.

He leaned over me slightly, his chest brushing my back.

“Relax,” voice dropping closer to my ear.

My grip on the sheets loosened. Instead of pulling away—I pressed back into him.

A low, intimate moan rumbled in his throat. I knew that sound, the one he made when he was getting close.

“You sure you done?” he asked, warm breath brushing my ear.

“…or you still got that smart ass mouth?”

I shook my head, panting into the damp pillow, “..i’m done, baby.” I breathed out.

His hand slipped back down between my legs, fingers finding my sweet spot—pulling a high pitched moan straight from my throat. “Oh my God—“

“Mhm..” He hummed. “Now tell daddy you sorry.”

All I could think about was how close I was, aching to fall off the edge.

“Moni.” He growled, snapping me back into reality.

“…Hm?” I whined.

Suddenly, he threatened to deny my orgasm, retreating his hand. “I said—say it.” He demanded. “You fuckin’ sorry or not?”

I couldn’t believe him. Feeling myself lose the sensation, desperately—

“I’m sorry…“ I started, words fading into a whisper.

“Huh? I can’t hear you, mama.”

I exhaled shakily, trying to ground myself. “..I’m sorryyy,” exhaustion dragging out my half-hearted apology.

His hand dipped low, back between my legs. “Good, girl.” He praised quietly, kissing my temple.

My breath hitched.

He let out a low breath through his nose, something between irritation and realization.

“This what you wanted, huh?”

“Couldn’t just say you missed me?” he added, tone rough but not as sharp.

“Had to do all that extra shit?”

I didn’t answer, didn’t have it in me to. All my thoughts blurred into one another.

He noticed. Of course he did.

But my focus faltered, the aching knot in my stomach ready to come undone. I grabbed his hand that was between my legs, feeling the overstimulation building.

“Uh-huh. Gimme’ that nut.” He demanded—and I did.

I came even harder this time—moaning so loud, I even surprised myself. My body shook violently—even when he’d slowed down, my legs could not stop shaking.

He stroked deeper, “Mmmm,” moaning against my ear.

The sound vibrating against my back.

“Fuck,” I whispered, coming down from high.

He rocked into me, dragging out his hips in long, deliberate strokes.

“That attitude was cute for a second,” he said low, “but you ain’t built to keep it up with me. You know that.”

Before I could form another thought, he was back on top of me, the motion knocking the air in my throat into his mouth.

He pushed my legs apart, calloused hands gripping the back of my thighs.

He moaned quietly, then again, louder—right into my neck.

I found it ironic how he teased me through my nut but was crumbling about to get his off.

“Fuckkk…Moni,” he exhaled, voice rough, strained.

I’d be lying if I said his moans didn’t turn me on.

His forehead pressed against mine, breath uneven, mixing with mine in the small space between us.

My hands slid up, cupping his face, pulling him closer without thinking. He pushed my legs back further, sharp gasp trembling out of me.

I felt the shift in him before anything else, the way his body tensed, the way his rhythm lost its control.

“Ouuu…I’m finna nut.” He breathed.

I opened my eyes to see his expression: eyebrows knitted together, mouth hanging open

One stroke, slower. Another, deeper. Then—

his body locked against mines, guttural sounds of pleasure spilling out from him as his body gave in.

His waist trembled into mine. “Shittt,” he moaned. I pulled him close—my arms wrapping around his back, his seed settling deep inside me—warm and heavy.

He panted, breath evening out as he came down from his high, body collapsing gently into mines.

We stayed like this for a minute, hadn’t fully coming back down yet.

Neither of us said anything, just breathing.

The room felt different now—quieter, but not empty. Thick with everything that had just happened.

Then finally, he exhaled—long and slow—rolling onto his back. His arm latched on to me, flipping me onto his chest.

My body melted into him, drained.

His hand slid up my side, slower now, absent-minded. Like he wasn’t even thinking about it.

I swallowed, staring at nothing in the dark room, my body still catching up with everything.

“…you good?” he asked after a minute, voice lower now. Not sharp. Not teasing, just checking.

I let out a quiet breath. “…mhm.”

A pause.

Then—

“So,” he muttered. “You still mad…”

His hand slid across the small of my back.

“or you just needed me to fix that attitude?”

rolled my eyes, “…whatever.”

He let out low chuckle under his breath like that answer was enough, sliding from my side before he shifted, easing me off him as he sat up at the edge of the bed.

The room felt colder without him.

He dragged a hand down his face, then glanced back at me—laid out, still catching my breath.

A small smirk tugged at his mouth.

“C’mon,” he muttered, nodding toward the bathroom. “Before you pass out on me.”

I didn’t move.

He huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head as he stood.

“Don’t take too long,” he added, voice low. “I ain’t say I was done with you.”

I rolled my eyes again, turning to the wall.

“You so annoying.” I muttered under my breath. I laid there for a second, like I was really gonna stay.

Then I pushed myself up with a quiet sigh, legs still unsteady and followed after him anyway.

•••

A/N: heyyy yall :p this was my first attempt at a one shot so pls bare with me lol. i saw #that video of him on twitter and lost my damn mind 🫩. anywayss, lmk what yall thought! more stuff coming soon.

—open to any advice!