JustMiya

The vintage filter softens your features like a sun faded Polaroid as you tuck a loose curl behind your ear, exhaling with a wistful smile.  

“So—You're probably wondering where we've been." 

The lens lingers on your face—nostalgia flickering in your dark eyes as you glance past the camera, like you can still see the walls of your old New Orleans shotgun house behind it. That cozy, creole haven with its peeling paint and humming ceiling fans, where the scent of jasmine and Eren’s cooking curled through every room. Home. 

“Six months changes things," you murmur,  “And, well...life happened." 

A breath.   

“‘Ren’s meal prep business blew up." 

The confession comes with a giggle, like even now it still feels surreal. The Seoul deal had landed like a lightning strike—some high-end Korean health conglomerate offering stupid money for exclusive rights to his keto chicken bowls and Creole-spiced shrimp packs.  

“You saw the anniversary live, right? The one where—" You bite your lip,“—Yeah. Anyway. Two days later, they slid into his email with a contract thicker than his arm.” 

But? The logistics were brutal. Endless flights between NOLA and Incheon, you both exhausted, missing each other achingly in the stretches between. You mimic Eren’s signature scowl, deepening your voice—

“'Either come with me or I’m burnin’ the passport, Bunny.'" 

The move to Korea had been a whirlwind—thrilling at first. Neon-lit streets, steaming bowls of tteokbokki at 3AM, Eren’s hands possessive on your waist as he showed you his Seoul between meetings. But then...  

Your smile falters.  

“It got lonely." 

No Sunday gumbo with your momma. No impromptu BBQs with your cousins spilling onto the porch. Just the two of you in a sleek high-rise, struggling with subway maps and missing the warmth of your people.  

“We were happy, but—hollow?" 

You press a hand to your sternum, like you can still feel the echo of it. 

You then exhale softly, curling your fingers around the edge of the sofa as you confess, “We needed a break—And ‘Ren’s birthday was the perfect excuse to escape."

The waves crash lazily in the background as you tilt your head, sunlight catching the gold hoops in your ears. 

“St. Lucia was his dream. Warm water, no schedules, no ’corporate meetings’—" You roll your eyes playfully, but the lightness doesn’t quite reach the tension in your shoulders.  

Then, quieter—  

“But...he hasn’t been handling twenty-nine the way I thought he would?” 

You bite your lip, eyes flickering toward the bedroom where he still sleeps. 

“He keeps saying shit like—" You deepen your voice into another gruff imitation of him, “'Damn, Bunny. I’m gettin’ old. Need to settle down before my knees give out.'" 

You shake your head, “It’s not just jokes, though. He’s been different. Obsessing over timelines, talking about legacy.” 

Your fingers trace idle patterns on your thigh, avoiding the camera’s gaze for a second.  

“And then one night, he just—" You swallow hard, “…He said he wanted a baby.” 

You curl into yourself slightly, arms wrapping around your middle as if bracing for impact.  

“I mean...we always talked about it. But..." you shrug helplessly, "You guys know I don’t plan on doing this—" You gesture vaguely at the camera, “Once we’re married with kids. And I love that you guys have been with us through everything. But..."

A shaky breath.  

“I never expected it to be now, you know?” 

The air between you and the lens feels thick—charged with something unspoken. Then, abruptly, you straighten, blinking away the wetness in your eyes as a slow, secretive smile tugs at your lips.

“Before I bring myself to tears—well, just watch."

The burgues script appears again. 

ST. LUCIA THROUGH YOUR EYES. 

A montage flickers to life—each frame saturated with golden sunlight and laughter, the ocean breeze tangling in your hair as St. Lucia unfolds around you both like a dream.  

The first day. ‘You in a sheer, plum wrap dress that clings to every curve, standing barefoot on the villa’s terrace as Eren’s hands slide around your waist from behind. His lips brush your shoulder—“My pretty fuckin’ Bunny,” before he nips at your earlobe, making you giggle and swat at him.  

That night. A low-lit restaurant nestled right on the beach, lanterns casting a honeyed glow over your faces. You’re seated at a candlelit table, the ocean breeze tousling the loose waves of your dark hair. The camera catches you mid-laugh—a plunging white dress clinging to every dangerous curve of your body, the neckline dipping just low enough to tease the swell of your heavy tits.  

You flash a mischievous grin at the lens, dragging your fingertip through the frosting of the miniature birthday cake the staff brought out—“For my birthday boy,” before sucking the sweetness off your finger with an exaggerated pop. 

The camera pans to Eren. 

Oh, God. 

A crisp white button-up clings to his muscular frame like a second skin, his sleeves rolled up to expose those tattooed forearms. His dark hair is slicked back in a low bun—jawline sharp enough to cut glass—green eyes glinting with something between hunger and amusement as he watches you.  

Without breaking eye contact with the camera, he leans in—dragging his tongue between your lips, stealing the last traces of frosting straight from your mouth.  

You let out a breathy giggle, cheeks flushing as he pulls back with a smirk—“‘Shit tastes better on you." 

 The second week. A bustling street market. You wear a sage green crochet bikini top and high-waisted denim shorts, sandals dangling from one hand as Eren feeds you bites of spiced plantains off his fork. His thumb swipes sauce from your bottom lip, then slowly licks it off, eyes locked on yours while vendors wolf whistle in the background under your flushed squeaking for him to stop. 

That afternoon? A lively, sun-drenched outdoor hair salon tucked under a canopy of palm leaves and strung with colorful beads that clink softly in the breeze. You’re perched on a low wooden stool, surrounded by four St. Lucian aunties—their hands moving in a hypnotic blur as they section, twist, and fold your thick, dark curls into an intricate masterpiece.  

Eren’s deep chuckle rumbles behind the camera—“Look at my baby, lookin’ like prettier than the ocean.” 

You go to stick your tongue out at him, but that’s when one of the women chides you gently in Kwéyòl—“Hold still, darling!”—before dissolving into warm laughter with the others. The rhythmic swish-swish of hair being braided fills the air, fingers tugging just enough to make you pout.  

Another day. The rainforest. ‘You in a khaki mini-skirt and a tied-up tank, shrieking as your sandal slips on a mossy rock—only for Eren to catch you mid-fall, his biceps flexing as he hauls you upright with a growl. 

“Watch ‘your feet, woman. You break an ankle, I’m carryin’ you everywhere from now on.” 

That evening. A local elder—"Banana Man," as you dubbed him—grinned toothlessly as he guided Eren’s hands around a machete, teaching him to split a ripe banana stalk. Eren listens intently, nodding, repeating phrases in rough-but-earnest Creole while you beam beside him, fingers laced through his free hand in support.  

And finally? Sunset. The beach. You in a flowy, butter-yellow sundress, bare feet sinking into warm sand as the Banana Man and another woman chuckles, handing you both each a piece of freshly-cut fruit. 

Behind you, you hear the woman fussing at Eren in the same melodic dialect, “Ou pral koupe dwèt ou yo!,”  You’ll chop your fingers off!—her tone exasperated but fond. 

You bite back a giggle, still focused on your own fruit, not daring to glance over.  

"Are you givin' her a hard time?" you call out, voice lilting with amusement.  

Eren’s response is soft, almost too casual—  

“Not at all, baby." 

A pause. Then—  

“…Might need some help from you, though." 

You roll your eyes playfully, turning with a grin—  

And the world stops.  

Because there he is.  

On one knee. 

The machete abandoned beside him, replaced by a velvet box cradled in his trembling hands. His face—usually so composed, so controlled—is raw with emotion, eyes glistening under the sunset.  

"Mwen vle ou pou tout rès vi mwen," he rasps—I want you for the rest of my life. 

A sob tears from your throat before you can stop it. Your hands fly to your mouth, the piece of fruit tumbling forgotten into the sand as your knees nearly give out.  

“Wi—YES—oh my GOD!" 

You're in his arms before he can even finish, nearly knocking him over as you collapse against his chest, babbling yes in every language you know—Creole, English, everything—between desperate kisses and tearful laughter.  

The camera cuts back to you now—sunlight catching the glint of tears still clinging to your lashes as you hold up your left hand, the diamond glinting like captured starlight. Heavy. Perfect. His. 

“We're getting married!” you whisper yell, voice trembling with a giddy, breathless laugh—but it fades too fast.  

"...Haven’t been able to get pregnant, though." 

A shaky breath. The words taste like salt and something sharper.  

“We tried. A couple times. And then...weknew." 

Your throat works around the weight of it.  

“‘Doctor ran tests. There's—" A tiny, broken noise, “A lot." 

Your gaze drops to your lap, where your other hand fists in the fabric of your slip.  

“Eren…has given up so much for our content. Let the world into us. But—" 

A tear splashes onto your knee. Then another. You don't even notice until your voice cracks.  

“All he wants now is privacy. His wife. A baby.” 

You swipe at your cheeks with the back of your hand, laughing wetly—“And I couldn’t even—" 

The sentence dies.  

For a long moment, there's just the sound of the ocean and your unsteady breathing. Then, so quiet the mic barely catches it—  

"It felt like I failed him." 

Your laughter wavers—thin and watery—as tears streak hot down your cheeks. You swipe at them with trembling fingertips, shaking your head as you murmur, “Sorry, sorry,” to the empty air.  

Your voice steadies, even as the tears keep falling.  

“But we’re here, in St.Lucia. And I get to spend the rest of my life with the man I love.” 

You tilt your face up toward the sunlight, closing your eyes for just a second—  

But that’s when the sound of heavy footsteps on tile makes your breath catch. 

And there he is.

The camera doesn’t catch his face—just the sheer mass of him, silhouetted against the morning light. Long dark hair, streaked with gold where the sun touches it. Broad shoulders, tattoos creeping up the side of his neck. His bare chest is a canvas of sun-kissed skin, scattered with moles and faint freckles.  

But you see all of him—the deep green of his eyes, hazel flecks burning under heavy brows. The natural frown etched into his features, lips full and pink, parted as he rasps—  

“Why the hell ain’t you in bed?” 

His voice is sleep-rough, edged with concern.  

“…’Couldn’t sleep,” you murmur, “Got dressed.”

Silence. 

His thumb suddenly grazes your cheek, catching a stray tear. His touch is rough but tender, tilting your face up toward him as he grunts—  

“‘You good?” 

His hand dwarfs your face, fingers tipping your chin up further. You blink up at him through damp lashes, lips curling into a soft smile despite the lingering tears. 

“‘Was just talkin' to our little family," you say, thumb brushing the camera lens gently—“They miss you." 

“I miss you in bed," he counters, voice a low, sleep-rough rumble that sends heat prickling up your neck.  

A breathless giggle escapes you as you glance at the time.

“Baby, it’s barely noon.” 

Your fingers catch his wrist, tugging lightly—“Come sit with me?" 

He hesitates—then shakes his head, jaw tightening slightly.

“I’ll ‘show face in a bit," he grunts, “‘Gotta shower first." 

“And then you’ll come?" 

"Mhm." 

The affirmation is gruff, but his grip on your chin tightens as he suddenly leans down, claiming your mouth in a deep, possessive kiss—tongue dragging slow over your bottom lip before pulling away with a wet pop. 

And then, he’s gone.

You sigh playfully, shaking your head with a knowing smile as you watch him stalk off—"That's him in a good mood," you murmur, rolling your eyes affectionately before your expression shifts—mischief sparking in your gaze.  

“Well, what he doesn't know is I've got a little surprise.” 

You bite your bottom lip, fingers tapping against your thigh.

"For him... and you guys."

 A sly wink, “You know I can't come on here without giving y'all the other part of our channel." 

With that, you hop up from the sofa—bare feet padding silently across the sun-warmed terracotta floors as you tiptoe through the sprawling Mediterranean villa.  

The outdoor shower comes into view—a stunning mosaic of turquoise and deep cobalt tiles, sunlight dappling through the latticework. The sound of rushing water meets your ears first, then—  

Him. 

Eren stands fully nude beneath the spray—a masterpiece of masculine power carved in ink and muscle. Water sluices down the hard planes of his tattooed chest, his biceps flexing as he runs a hand through his dark, wet hair—pushing it back just enough to reveal the sharp cut of his jaw, the sinful curve of his mouth. Droplets cling to his long lashes, framing those deep green eyes as he tips his head back, throat working as the water cascades over him.  

His body is ridiculous—abs like forged steel, thick thighs taut with restrained strength. And then—there. Between his legs, heavy and full even at rest, his cock hangs thick against his thigh, the flushed tip glistening under the water. 

You carefully prop the camera up, angling it perfectly to capture the outdoor shower's decadent scene before slipping the sheer coverup from your shoulders—letting it pool at your feet in a whisper of fabric. Your neon orange bikini clings to every curve as you step under the arched entrance, hips swaying with playful purpose as you approach his towering frame.

The moment your arms slide around his waist—lips pressing a teasing kiss to the small of his water-slick back—his entire body tenses. Then, slowly, he turns. 

One large hand cups your chin, tilting your face up as he looms over you—those hunter-green eyes dark with warning. 

“Du kleine Unruhestifterin," he murmurs, voice rough. 

You little troublemaker.

His tongue lolls out lazily—a silent command. You obey instantly, your own tongue slipping past your lips to meet his. The slide of them together pulls a shudder from you, your eyes rolling back as he deepens the kiss with a growl—claiming your mouth like he owns it. Because he does.

When you finally pull away—giving his bottom lip one last tug between your teeth—the noise he makes is pure animal. A deep, possessive grunt that sends heat spiraling through your core. You giggle, high and breathless, licking the taste of him from your lips.

“Be nice," you whisper, fluttering your lashes up at him—equal parts angel and devil. 

His fingers thread through your French curls, gently cradling your head as he tucks your giggles against his chest—the steady thump of his heartbeat beneath your ear. Then, finally, he turns his gaze toward the camera—voice a low, affectionate rumble. 

“She’s always been good at persuadin’ me.” 

You drape your arms around his neck, pressing your body flush against his as your giggles bubble up—tits bouncing against him playfully. 

“‘You happy now? You love all our babies?" you chirp. 

His response is a deep, vibrating ”Mhm," as his hands slide down to grip your hips possessively. You snuggle closer, tucking your face into the crook of his shoulder with a satisfied hum, breathing in his scent—sandalwood, something distinctly him. 

But while you're nestled against him like a content kitten, Eren has other plans. His lips quirk in that cocky half-smile as he mouths “I lied," directly at the camera—his wink full of mischief before he nuzzles back into you, knowing damn well what he just did.  

The camera now cuts to a sprawling deep green sofa bed in a sun drenched corner of the villa, where you're sprawled out in nothing but a skimpy gold bikini—back arched, hips tilted, ass up—your skin glistening under the Caribbean light.  

You pout dramatically at the lens, running your hands over your thighs. 

“Ugh, I swear I won’t get a full tan here!” you whine, twisting to show the untouched skin of your inner thighs—your fingers tracing the faint tan lines with exaggerated frustration.  

Before you can continue your lament, a sharp smack! echoes through the room—Eren’s palm landing firmly on your ass, making the flesh jiggle. 

”Move," he rumbles, already nudging you aside—his natural dominance taking over as he manspreads onto the sofa bed like he owns it. His tattoos flex under the golden light, one thick thigh nudging yours apart as he settles in. 

Your lips purse into an exaggerated pout, eyes fluttering up at him with faux hurt.

“You're being mean.”

Eren's stares. His index finger then crooks, wagging you closer with that effortless, commanding ease that always makes your stomach flip. You slide toward him, hips swaying playfully, until his hand cups the back of your neck and pulls you into a searing kiss—quick but deep, his tongue swiping possessively over yours before pulling away with a wet smack.

“Tut mir leid, Schatz," he rumbles—I'm sorry, baby—his rough German apology curling around your ears like smoke.  

You grin at the camera, freckles standing out against your brown skin as you rub your hands up and down Eren’s tattooed forearms. 

“Guess what we have?" you chirp, excitement bubbling in your tone.  

Eren arches a brow, his deep voice dry. 

“Fan mail?" 

"Fan mail!" you squeak, immediately digging into the pretty stack of envelopes beside you—tied together with a silk ribbon. You pluck one out, scanning it before correcting, “Fan question, actually." 

Clearing your throat, you read aloud—

“'I love you both so much—your dynamic, the way you tease each other, how passionate you are...Awe!” You pause, pressing a hand to your chest, touched. 

“'Okay, okay—so, I'm kind of shy asking this, but I'm in a relationship, and my boyfriend loves when I ride him, but I...don't really know what to do? Any tips?'"

Your lips curl into a sly grin as you shift your hips against Eren’s thigh, fingers drumming playfully on his chest.

“So, let’s talk about cowgirl—fun fact, it actually dates waaaay back," you purr, eyes sparkling with mischief.  

“…Some historians trace it to ancient tantric texts, others say it was practically sacred in certain cultures—but let’s be real," your curls sway as you tilt your head, “The real magic? ‘How many ways you can make this classic feel brand new." 

Eren’s palm thwaps your ass lightly—a silent get on with it. 

“There are several—yes, several—ways to ride," you announce, holding up the corresponding number of fingers, “And lucky for you..." You pat Eren’s thigh like he’s your favorite piece of gym equipment—“..I’ve got the perfect demonstrator right here."

His grunt is half-amused, half-exasperated as you swing a leg over him, straddling his lap playfully. 

“Consider this your full tutorial.”

Your posture shifts instantly—shoulders rolling back, lips parting with slow intention as your gaze locks onto Eren’s. The camera catches the way his pupils dilate just slightly when you run your tongue along your mouth, your voice dropping into that tone—the one that’s equal parts instructor and temptress.  

“Lesson one," you purr, fingertips skating up his chest, “Start with him comfortable. Relaxed." 

Your hips roll in a lazy circle against his lap, the heat between your thighs already unmistakable. 

“And obviously...hard. That’s the goal." 

You nip at his earlobe, breathing a giggle against his skin when his grip tightens on your waist.

“Baby," you murmur, dragging your tongue along the shell of his ear, “How’re you enjoying St. Lucia?”  

Eren’s jaw flexes—the only tell he’ll give you—but you feel him hardening beneath you, the thick ridge of him pressing insistently against your core. Your laugh is velvet-wrapped mischief as you grind down harder, relishing the way his breath hitches. 

“Mmm, that’s the reaction we want."

Your fingers glide over the bulging curves of his biceps, kneading the taut muscle with deliberate appreciation. 

“Aren’t you having fun with me?" you coo, batting your lashes up at him through the dark fringe of them.  

Eren’s eyes—always tracking you—darken further, his voice scraping low from his chest.

“You know how I feel bein’ here.”

“Good boy,” you softly praise, lips curling into that wicked little smile—the one that makes his jaw twitch. Your hands slide down to rub slow, teasing circles over his thick thighs, fingertips ghosting dangerously close to where he really wants them. 

“Thank you for being so...communicative.” 

Then, with a sinuous shift of your hips, you arch deeper into his lap—your gaze flicking back to the camera. 

“Now, tell me—does our birthday boy deserve something…special today?" 

The camera catches Eren perfectly—his dark hair pulled into a loose bun, those few stubborn tendrils escaping to frame his glaring, predatory expression. He’s pure power sprawled beneath you—legs spread wide, chest rising with each controlled breath—watching, waiting, like he’s deciding whether to make a move or let you play longer.  

Then—your hands hook into the waistband of his sweatpants. 

A sharp inhale. A quick tug.  

“Oh.” 

Your gasp is high, breathy, practically whiny as your big, round eyes drink him in—his cock springing free, thick,  flushed and already leaking just from your teasing.

“Look at you," you mewl, voice dripping with honeyed reverence—like he’s something sacred, "’All for me?" 

Eren’s smirk is barely there—just a twitch of those sinful lips—before his hand fists in your hair, tilting your face up to his.  

“Always."

Your gaze flicks back to the camera with that signature mix of sweet and sinful—letting them in on the moment before your attention returns to him. 

“Make him ready for you first," you instruct—your lips parting slightly, tongue swiping along your bottom lip as if already tasting him.  

Eren's eyes darken, his grip tightening on your thigh.  

“’You thirsty?” he rasps. 

You nod eagerly, biting down on your plush lip with those big, pleading eyes.   

He doesn't hesitate. His calloused fingers grip your chin, tilting your face up as he spits directly into your open mouth—a thick, wet string of saliva that lands heavy on your tongue.  

“Mmm—" You swallow instinctively, eyes fluttering shut as his palm cracks against your cheek.

“Zeig’s ihnen," he growls—Show them. 

And oh, you do.  

Your tongue drags slow and filthy from the thick base of him all the way up—a long, indulgent lick that leaves a glistening trail along his length. The taste of him—pure Eren—floods your senses as you swirl your tongue around his swollen tip, savoring the bead of precum that leaks onto your taste buds.  

Then—your lips part wider, sinking down onto him inch by inch until he’s pressed against the back of your throat. The sound—wet, filthy, obscene—fills the room as your nose brushes against his pelvis, swallowing around him with deliberate patience.  

Eren’s groan is low and rough, fingers tightening in your hair as he mutters something in German—praise or a curse, you can’t tell—but the way his hips twitch upward tells you everything you need to know.  

“Good fuckin’ girl.” 

Your movements grow desperate, hungry—swollen lips struggling to stretch around his impossible girth, every inch of him throbbing against your tongue as you hollow your cheeks and force yourself deeper. The sounds you make—tiny, choked mewls turning into breathless whimpers—only spur him on. His cock hits the back of your throat, again and again, the slick slap of skin against skin filling the air as you drool around him, spit dripping messily down your chin.  

When you finally pull away—gasping, lips shiny and ruined—you whine at the loss, your fingers immediately wrapping around what your mouth couldn’t take. Both hands jerk him off in tight, twisting strokes—your tongue darting out to swirl around his leaking tip, collecting the thick beads of precum and licking them up like a starving little thing.  

Eren’s voice is ragged, his German words rough and guttural—“So verdammt gierig..." 

“So greedy..." you translate breathlessly, giggling around his cock like it’s something adorable, something sweet, despite the filth dripping from your chin. Then? You’re practically bobbing your palms around his dick, going even lower than before. 

Eren’s thighs tense, muscles straining beneath ink-stained skin as he curses, fingers tightening in your curls.

“Fuck—" His head tilts back, jaw clenched, as he uses your palms—hips lifting off the bed to fuck up into your hand with sharp, punishing thrusts. You mewl once more as your mouth follows back onto his tip—sucking, sucking down. The camera catches it all—his dominance, your submission, the sinful wetness of every thrust as you put your mouth back on him—until finally, with a growl that rumbles through your bones, he yanks you off with a filthy pop. 

“Enough."  

Your lips are parted, panting, still aching for him—but his grip on your hair tightens, forcing you to meet his gaze.  

“You want to ride?" He rasps, “‘Come fuckin’ ride me.” 

“Mm, baby—“ you mewl, “This is a tutorial, shouldn’t we—“

Eren’s response is interrupting—his thick fingers hooking into the flimsy fabric of your bikini bottoms, yanking them aside with a roughness that makes your breath hitch. The sudden slap of his palm against your pussy—sharp, mean—has your hips jerking forward with it.  

“Keep goin’ then," he growls, fingers beginning to rub rough circles over your swollen clit, his other hand gripping your ass cheek tight enough to bruise. 

“Talk.” 

Your body shudders, thighs trembling as you struggle to stay composed—your giggles turning into more breathless whimpers, your voice wavering but still playful as you turn back to the camera.  

“O—Okay, so—once he’s ready," you stutter, cheeks flushed deep bronze, “You just—ah!—sink down on him—slow, okay?” You bite your lip, "Especially if—mmf!—if you’ve got someone as big as my 'Ren—“ 

Eren grunts, dragging the slick, flushed head of his cock through your dripping folds—letting the camera catch the obscene wetness coating him before he smacks your ass hard enough to leave a red handprint.  

“Ain’t nobody as big as me," he snarls, voice thick with arrogance—his grip tightening on your waist as he lines himself up, the heavy tip of him pressing teasingly against your entrance. 

“Bring it to me.” 

Your hand reaches back, fingers curling into the flesh of his thigh as you lock eyes with the camera—your lips parting around a shaky exhale as you begin to sink down onto him.  

Eren’s grip shifts suddenly—his calloused fingers seizing your jaw, forcing your face to stay angled toward the lens as he tugs you down with relentless pressure. The stretch is unreal—your walls clenching around his thick cock inch by inch as your breath hitches in your throat.  

Your eyes roll back—voice slurring as you try to keep instructing through the haze of pleasure, "Y—You wanna—mmf—take all of it—" 

Eren’s his hips jerk up hard, forcing another inch inside—his voice thick with arrogance, “You feelin’ me?” 

You whimper, hands gripping his thighs as you force yourself down, your slick walls yielding around him until your ass meets his hips—fully seated. Your face twists—lips parted in a silent moan, eyes squeezing shut before fluttering open to find him instead of the camera.  

And then—God—your folds spurt a fresh rush of cream against him, your body betraying you completely as you lose all semblance of control, trembling in his lap.  

“Look at you,” he rasps, “Actin’ like a big fuckin’ girl, little one.” 

Your arms snake around his neck, clinging to him as you press a soft, pleading kiss to his lips—whispering against them in Creole, just for him—“Lèt mwen mennen, chéri..."

Let me lead, baby… 

Eren hesitates—his dark eyes searching yours—before he exhales sharply through his nose. He pulls back just enough to guide your palms onto his chest, lips pressing against your ring, to both of your palms in turn—a silent permission—before his arms drop to his sides, muscles taut with restraint.  

“‘Go ‘head.” 

Your voice then lilts sweetly, hips rolling in slow, teasing circles against his lap.  

“Okay, so first—warm up," you murmur, fingers threading through the loose tendrils of his dark hair, tugging just enough to make his jaw clench.  

“You wanna start slow," you breathe, eyelashes fluttering—though your breath hitches when he twitches inside you, thick and impatient. 

“It's all about—mm—connection..." 

You whine a little—high-pitched, adorable—your folds clutching desperately at his cock with every tiny shift.  

“T—Take your time adjusting," you instruct shakily, though it sounds more like you're reminding yourself—your thighs trembling as you rise up until just the tip of him remains, then sink back down with a breathy sigh.  

Eren's hands flex against the sofa—his nostrils flaring as he watches you, taunting him with your lazy pace. But he lets you lead, just like you asked—even if his teeth grind together when your nails scrape against his scalp.  

“‘Feel good, baby?” 

Eren just growls, his hips jerking up just enough to make your entire body twitch.  

“Quit playin’."

Your lips press a tender kiss to the tip of his nose—soft, sweet—and he retaliates by bumping his nose against yours in return, making you giggle breathlessly.  

“Okay,” you whisper, “First three positions—think of ‘em like gears,” you explain, hips rolling in slow, indulgent circles—your thighs flexing as you shift upward, grinding rather than bouncing.  

“First gear—easy, sensual, all about the tease.”

You demonstrate, your back arching beautifully as you rock against him—your gaze locked onto his, heavy-lidded and dripping with intent, “It’s more for your pleasure, but—” 

One of your hands lifts, twirling a loose curl around your finger—your French braids cascading over your shoulders, the scent of vanilla and sunshine clinging to them.  

“You keep his attention by making him watch.” 

Your other hand slides up your own body—fingers trailing over your collarbone before you hook them into the ties of your bikini top. With a flick, the fabric falls away—your heavy breasts bouncing free, nipples peaked and begging for touch.  

Eren’s nostrils flare, but he stays still—letting you lead, even as his cock twitches deep inside you.  

“Second gear—”

 Your breath hitches as you shift again, riding him with more purpose—your hips undulating in slow, delicious waves.  

“Third gear—” 

And then you grind, your clit rubbing firmly against the base of him with every movement. A rush of pleasure floods your senses—your walls fluttering around him as you struggle to keep your voice steady.  

“Th—This one—” You swallow hard, your words slurring slightly, “Might—mmf—hit your spots—“ 

“Yeah?”

 Eren suddenly rasps—arrogant, smug—his fingers flexing against your hips but still refusing to help.  

A desperate little whimper escapes your lips—“Y—Yeah”—as your hips roll faster, grinding against him like a toy wound too tight, chasing that sweet, throbbing pleasure building low in your belly.  

Eren stays perfectly still beneath you—just watching with those eyes, his low voice taunting as he growls,  

“C'mon, baby. Keep goin’.” 

Your breath catches—a sharp gasp ripping from your throat as your head falls back, braids cascading over your shoulders. But Eren’s fingers snap up, wrapping around your throat in a firm grip, forcing your gaze back to him.  

“Nah, nah—eyes on me," he rasps, thumb brushing your pulse point—“‘Want you to see me watchin’ you.”

Tears well in your eyes—spilling over as your climax crashes into you with a sob, your cream gushing around him, coating his balls in slick heat.  

Eren tsks—his grip tightening on your ass cheek, tugging your grinding hips right where he wants them as he murmurs low in German,  

"So schön... so verdammt schön für mich…” 

So beautiful... so fuckin’ beautiful for me… 

Your hips slow to a sensual sway, chest rising and falling with each breath as your curls tumble over your shoulders, framing your breasts like a dark halo. You glance down at Eren through your lashes, lips parted as you try to steady your breathing—but the second your arms wrap around his neck, you let out a soft,  shy giggle, turning toward the camera with a sheepish smile.  

“Oops—" you murmur, voice dripping with playful sweetness, “Didn’t mean to get so...carried away."

Eren huffs out a rough chuckle, his lips trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses between your breasts—“I love watchin’ you like that. Love watchin’ you cum like that." 

You bite your lip, suppressing another giggle before looking back at the camera—your expression shifting back into instructor mode, though your voice is still breathy from pleasure.  

“See? The three gears—always gonna get you there," you sigh, fingers threading lazily through Eren’s hair—“And trust me... your man’s gonna love it."

Your lips curl into a lazy, satisfied smile as you glance at the camera, breath still uneven.  

“Not done yet though,” you hum—“‘Might feel a little sore after that first round, so this is when you just...sit in it. Warm each other up all over again." 

Your fingers trail down to nudge Eren's chin, tipping his face up toward you—your eyes softening as you whisper, "’Love you, yeah?" 

He doesn't answer with words—just tugs your mouth down to his in a slow, deep kiss, tongues sliding together with unhurried heat. His hands roam over your back, fingers pressing possessively into the curve of your hips as you shift slightly—your folds grinding lazily along the swollen tip of him, drawing a low groan from his chest.  

Then, with a breathless shudder, you sink back down onto him—your lips parting against his in a silent gasp as he fills you completely. The kiss deepens, languid and intoxicating, until you finally pull back—turning toward the camera with flushed cheeks.  

“This one—" you pant, rocking up and down in slow, shallow motions, “—We call the lazy cowgirl. No rush, no pressure... just breathing together before the next round." 

Your hips roll in smooth, rhythmic waves—your tongue dragging teasingly along Eren's neck as you murmur against his pulse, “Keep it playful now... this one's for him." 

Your hands glide over the sculpted planes of his biceps and shoulders, fingertips tracing the ink-dark tattoos as you murmur, “You’re too handsome, baby—" between slow, rocking motions. Eren grunts through the praise, dragging you into a deep, appreciative kiss—but you feel it, the way his restraint starts crumbling, the sharp catch of his breath against your lips betraying how badly he wants to take control.  

You tuck your face into the crook of his shoulder, braids spilling like silk over his skin as you peer behind you—watching the sinuous arch of your spine, the hypnotic sway of your hips as you move atop him.  

“Okay," you exhale once more, pulling back just enough to meet the camera's gaze—your voice dripping with playful mischief, “Next positions are where it gets fun—pleasurable for both of you." 

A giggle bubbles up as you admit, “It’s a silly name, but—we call this one the shakedown.” 

And then you show it—your ass lifting slightly before shaking in slow, deliberate twists atop him, the motion making your folds clench around his cock in a way that has his fingers digging into your thighs.  

A harsh smack echoes through the room—Eren’s palm cracking against your ass cheek, leaving a stinging flush in its wake. You gasp, but don't stop—grinding down harder as he spanks you again, and again,  each sharp slap punctuated by his guttural groans.  

“Fuck—" he grits out, grip bruising as he watches your body jolt with every strike.  

You whimper through it, trembling—but your voice is a pure sultry tease as you murmur to the camera, “Your man's gonna love how this looks…’gonna turn him on completely.”

Your arms tighten around his neck, fingers tangling in the hair at his naught as you continue rolling your hips in slow, decadent circles—French curls cascading like dark silk over his shoulders, tickling his chest as you tilt your head.  

“Baby...you still with me?" you tease, breathless laughter lacing your words as you nudge his temple with your nose, "’You’ve been a little quiet…”

Eren’s response is a rough blend of English and German, his voice thick with barely-restrained hunger as his palm cracks against your ass again—harder this time—forcing a sweet little “Mmph!" from your lips as you jolt forward, your mouth brushing his.  

“Scheiße—" he growls, gripping your waist as his other hand lands another stinging slap—“Du siehst so verdammt gut aus—" 

You look so fuckin’ good. 

His words dissolve into a shuddering groan as your walls clench around him, your body squeezing him in a slick, greedy rhythm. You bite your bottom lip, catching the camera’s gaze with a sultry grin—your voice dropping to a low, instructional purr.  

“Next one’s called...the swirl.” 

And then you demonstrate—your hips twisting in slow, hypnotic spirals, muscles fluttering tight around him in a way that wrings a filthy, wet sound from where you’re joined. Eren’s grip turns vicious—his cock throbbing inside you as your folds suck him deeper with every sinuous roll.  

“Goddamn, Bunny. Just like that. Shit.”  

His head is tilting back, groaning as he drags the words out.

Your breath hitches, but you keep going—grinding down in relentless circles, your body milking him with every motion as the camera captures every obscene shlick of your arousal coating him. Your hips continue their sinuous swirl, fingertips skimming the hard planes of his chest before crawling up to cradle the back of his neck possessively.  

“This is your chance to dominate.”

Eren's head stays tilted back, his hunter-green eyes locked onto yours—jaw clenched so tight you can see the muscle twitch. His chest heaves with each ragged breath, his cock twitching as your folds clench in another deliberate, milking squeeze.  

“Hell—" he grunts out, fingers digging into your hips, “That feels too fuckin’ good.”   

“Yeah?" 

“Yeah.” 

And you smile, rolling your hips in another filthy, slower, perfect circle.

Your gaze locks onto the camera as you plant your feet firmly on the sofa—tightening your thighs around his hips as your fingers drag lower, tracing the hard ridges of his abs with deliberate admiration.  

"And this—" you breathe, “—Is probably your man’s favorite. The expert cowgirl. Where you let him use you to his strength... his advantage."

Your eyes flick down to Eren, lashes fluttering as you coo, “My man’s so strong—‘can fuck me any way he wants to."*  

The second those words leave your lips, Eren’s grip shifts—his hands sliding beneath your thighs, fingers digging into the plush skin of your ass as he takes control, tugging you down onto his cock with a slow, purposeful bounce. 

“This—ooh!—this’ll also hit your spots if you let it—" 

You gasp, your words fracturing as his tip drags directly over that spongey sweet spot inside you. Your eyes roll slightly—a giggle bubbling up as you try to suppress the shiver of pleasure that ripples through you.  

"That’s it," he rasps, his grip tightening as he drives you down harder, faster.

“Take it. Take it. Squeezin’ me just fuckin’ right.” 

Your thighs tremble—your folds fluttering around him as he uses you exactly how he wants, his cock pistoning into that perfect, blissful spot with every snap of his hips.  

“Eren—" you whimper, your control slipping—your body melting under the weight of his dominance.  

“Nuh uh,” he grunts, “Feel it.” 

Your fingers slide helplessly over the thick ridges of his biceps beneath you—and that’s when a real, broken whimper claws its way out of your throat, voice trembling as you gasp,  

“F—Feels too—mmph!—too good—" 

Eren’s response is a rough, impatient tch—his grip tightening as he growls, “You ain’t been enjoyin’ yourself enough. Hold onto me.” 

At those words? Your head lolls back, your body going pliant against him as he pounds you—his powerful thighs driving you up and down his cock in slow, devastating bounces that leave your vision hazy. Your nails dig into his forearms—your whine pitching higher, dissolving into a slurred “Mmmphfuh—!" as your words fail you completely.  

“I c—can’t think.” 

And that’s when you see it—that untamed, rough-edged side of him that follows him everywhere. The country boy who doesn’t ask, just takes—who fucks you with the same effortless dominance he carries in every other part of his life. His hands slide up to your waist, fingers bruising as he lifts you—then drops you back onto his cock with a filthy, wet slap, his hips driving up to meet you.  

“Don’t gotta think," he rasps—voice dark, mean with desire. 

“Just keep takin’ it.” 

Eren's hands lock around your hips like steel bands—his thick cock splitting you open with every brutal, upward thrust. This ain't riding anymore. This is him fucking you—claiming you—his deep southern drawl rumbling against your ear as he takes over your lesson with rough, possessive authority. 

“Last one, baby. My fuckin' favorite—the Noise Complaint.”

And God, you understand why he named it that the second his powerful thighs flex beneath you. His grip is absolute—those big, rough hands lifting your entire body with terrifying ease before slamming you back down onto his cock in slow, devastating drops. The sound is obscene—a wet, rhythmic clap of skin-on-skin that echoes off the walls, punctuated by your broken little “Ah! Ah! Ah!" with every bounce.

It’s everything that defines him—raw, unfiltered, dominance, that arrogance dialed to eleven. Clap after clap after clap—skin slapping against skin in a rhythm so loud it dares the neighbors to complain.  

“Hear that?" Eren growls, “That’s the shit I wanna hear.”

You're sobbing now—pathetic, high-pitched whines of “E—Eren!" tumbling from your swollen lips as your body betrays you, clamping down on him in helpless pleasure. 

“Take your reward for bein' such a good fuckin’ teacher.” 

Your fingers clutch at his forearms, desperation creeping into your voice as you whimper, “Baby, please—‘wanna cum in my favorite position...” 

“‘Thought it was my birthday, huh?” 

But you give him those eyes—the ones that always make him cave—your lower lip trembling as you hiccup, “Please?"

It’s almost adorable—the way you beg, your tits bouncing with every ragged breath, those big, pleading eyes. How could he say no? 

“Face first, ass up—now.” 

You scramble to obey—arching your back sexily, pressing your flushed face into the sofa cushions as you present yourself for him. The contrast is stark—your small frame dwarfed beneath his towering body, your curves trembling as you wait.  

Eren’s gaze flickers to the camera—“‘She knows how she submits in this position," he rumbles, gripping his cock at the base as he watches your folds drip for him. He drags the thick head of his dick against you, taunting you as he growls—

“Only givin’ it to you if you take all of me—no fussin’." 

You bite your lip—your fingers clenching the cushions—before spreading yourself wider for him, your voice a sweet, breathless whimper. 

“Won’t fuss... ‘promise."

His thick thumb presses down on the small of your back, forcing your spine into a deeper arch as he spreads your folds wider with his free hand. 

“All of it," he grunts—and then he sinks into you all at once, his heavy cock stretching you to the limit in one relentless push.  

You groan—a high, desperate whimper tearing from your throat as your pussy makes a wet pfft sound around him. He doesn’t let you adjust—just tugs halfway out before slamming back in, the sudden stretch making you sob adorably into the cushions.  

Again.  

Again. 

Again.  

Over and over—until the pleasure borders on discomfort, his thick shaft dragging against your walls with brutal precision.  

“Fuck," Eren curses—his voice rough as he starts bouncing you on his cock, your hips gripped tight in his hands.

“Always so fuckin’ tight.” 

His groans deepen—low, drawn-out, almost pained—as your slickness coats him completely. 

“Goddamn, you’re drownin’ me—“ he pants, hips stuttering as your pussy squelches around him with every thrust. He’s not even lifting you anymore—just pounding into you over and over, your cries turning into sweet, broken sobs as you drag his name out pitifully, “E—Erennn.” 

His breath comes jagged—his own control slipping—as he mutters again, “Fuck—you’re so wet—" 

And then—with one final, punishing thrust—he buries himself fully inside you, his hips flush against your ass.  

That’s when he moans—really moans—his voice slurring. 

“Fuhhhhckkk.” 

You whimper back—slurring messily, your words barely coherent as you press your forehead into the cushions. 

His thrusts slow as he angles his hips just right, grinding the thick head of his cock against that spot once more. 

“C'mon," he growls, voice rough with urgency, his grip tightening on your hip—“Get it out. Wanna feel you drench me—make a fuckin' mess." 

He yanks himself out, his cock glistening with your slick as he fists himself hard, head tipping back with a jagged groan.  

The sudden emptiness makes you whine—but before you can protest, his palm cracks against your ass hard, the sharp sting forcing another sob from your lips.  

“Rub that clit," he orders, his voice dark with command—“Don't stop 'til you squirt all over me." 

Your thighs tremble violently as your fingers fly to your swollen clit, circling desperately—your entire body tensing as pleasure coils too tight, too much— 

"’Ren—‘M—gonna—!" you wail, your voice breaking into a sweet, shattered sob.  

He groans—filthy and approving—his strokes on his own cock speeding up as he watches you unravel.  

“I know,” he rasps, his green eyes burning with lust. 

“Do it. Cover me." 

Your back arches violently as your climax explodes out of you—a gushing, uncontrollable flood that soaks his thighs, the sofa, everything—your pussy pulsing around nothing as you scream his name.  

Eren growls, his own release hitting him just as hard—thick ropes of cum painting your trembling ass as he groans through gritted teeth.  

“Good fuckin’ job, Bunny.”

Your body shudders as the last waves of your climax begin to ebb—but then, without warning, a different kind of release crashes over you. Soft, warm tears spill down your cheeks, catching you by surprise that you quickly wipe your face. It’s not just pleasure anymore—it’s something deeper, more needed, like your body finally surrenders to the intensity of everything you just felt.  

Eren notices immediately.  

“C'mere," he murmurs, his voice suddenly tender as he pulls you against him, ignoring the mess between you both. His large hands cradle your face, thumbs brushing away your tears as he tucks you into the safety of his chest.  

His fingers slide into your braids, stroking gently—his lips pressing against your temple in slow, soothing kisses as he whispers, “You did so fuckin’ good." 

You cling to him, your breath hitching as the last tremors of emotion—and pleasure—rush through you. His warmth, his scent, the steady thud of his heartbeat beneath your ear—it all grounds you, wrapping you in a cocoon of safety.  

“I got you,” he rumbles, “Always do.” 

Your body melts into him, boneless and spent as you curl your arms around his neck and tuck your face against his skin—hiding from the camera’s gaze, suddenly shy despite everything you’ve just shared. Eren chuckles—a deep, knowing sound—his fingers tracing idle circles against your lower back.  

“‘Never done that before,” he muses, voice rough with amusement—but there’s no teasing in it. Just warmth.  

You don’t answer—just nuzzle deeper into him, your breaths slow and steady against his chest. And like always, he adjusts—his knees bending slightly to give you what you need, his frame curling around yours protectively.  

But then—his phone rings.  

Eren tenses—his head lifting with a frustrated suck to his teeth—but before he can dismiss it, you murmur, “Might be your Korean investors, baby… take it." 

He exhales through his nose.  

"Fuckin’ timin’.”

His lips linger against your temple—warm and rough—before he rises from the sofa, his towering frame momentarily blocking the camera’s view. You curl your knees to your chest, still glistening with sweat, your wide, round eyes tracing his every movement—the way his muscles shift beneath his tattooed skin, the way his damp hair clings to the back of his neck.  

“Got me on international fuckin’ hold," he grumbles, glancing back at you with a smirk.  

A weak, breathless smile tugs at your lips.

But then your gaze sharpens, studying him—the way dominance radiates off him even now, the handsomeness etched into every sharp angle of his face—and something tender swells in your chest.  

"Need me to translate when they pick up?" you offer softly, tilting your head.  

His green eyes narrow—defensive. 

“What you tryin’ to say?" 

“That my Korean’s better than yours." 

He grabs your discarded top off the floor, entirely dismissing your insult—“Put this on," he orders, tossing it toward you.  

You catch it lazily, shrugging. 

“Not like they didn’t just watch me—"

“Bunny." 

His voice drops—a warning.  

You sigh dramatically but relent, sliding the fabric over your head as he steps closer. His fingers brush your nipples through the material—rough, possessive—before he cups your chin, kissing you briefly, firmly. 

A command, not a request.  

You don’t kiss back—just nod with another sigh, letting him suck your bottom lip once more before he pulls away, already striding out of frame. 

You tie the strings of your top back into place, smoothing the fabric down with a soft, playful smile toward the camera—your cheeks still flushed, curls tousled from Eren’s hands.  

“Hope y’all enjoyed fanmail," you hum, "It’s always fun answering your questions.”

Behind you, Eren’s deep voice rumbles in Korean—Yes, I understand. I’ll contact you after reviewing the contract again. 

You glance over just in time to see him staring directly at you—chin lifted, green eyes gleaming with challenge—as he over-enunciates each syllable, chest puffed with pride.  

You roll your eyes hard, fighting a grin as you turn back to the camera and whisper, “He’s been studying as you can tell.” 

For the next few minutes, you chat sweetly with the camera—rambling about random things, laughing as you adjust the camera angle—until Eren reappears, a rare, broad grin splitting his face.  

“They doubled the investment,” he announces, voice thick with satisfaction.  

Your hands clap together, “That’s huge, baby! I knew they’d love you.”

“Let’s celebrate,” he rumbles, already striding toward the kitchen—“‘You hungry?" 

You nod eagerly, rubbing your arms as you follow his movements—watching as he pulls open the fridge, muscles flexing under the dim kitchen lights.  

“Could make spicy pork stir-fry," he muses, glancing at you—“Or that creamy garlic shrimp you like. Maybe both."

You rest your head on your knees, watching him move through the kitchen with that effortless, masculine grace.

“Whatever your heart desires, birthday boy." 

His shoulders tense slightly—the way they always do when he’s deep in thought, jaw locked tight. You notice it instantly.  

“Mon chéri," you say softly in Creole, voice a gentle hum beneath the sizzle of the pan—"Défroncé to mâchoire—li plen de tension."

Unclench your jaw—it’s full of tension. 

“‘Force of habit.”

“You’d think you were always unhappy,” you warily murmur—which he hears of course. 

Eren pauses.

“Why wouldn’t I be happy here with you?" he counters gruffly, not looking up—but you hear it, the defensiveness. 

“‘Just wanna pick your brain," you admit, tracing idle circles on your knee—“Feels like if I don’t...I lose you a little." 

Eren stills. Then, finally, he turns—his green eyes meeting yours, really meeting them, as he sets the knife down.  

“Alright," he rumbles, “Pick, then.” 

You let out a slow sigh, chewing your bottom lip as you search for the right words—your fingers twisting together in your lap. 

“We’ve been in St. Lucia for a while now,” you start, “After everything—the chaos, the traveling, the proposal,” Your lips curl into a soft smile at the memory—"I’m so happy here, ‘Ren. It’s everything I never knew I needed. But..." 

Your throat tightens—because the unspoken thing hangs between you, heavy and undeniable.  

“…I just need to know you’re happy too," you finally say, fingers pressing into your knees—“That nothing’s...disappointed you.  

Eren’s expression darkens—not in anger, but in fierce disagreement as he steps closer, crowding your space, his rough palms cupping your face.  

“Listen t’ me," he rumbles, “There’s nothin’ more I could ask for. You—this—us—" His thumb swipes at your mouth, “You’re my fuckin’ world, woman.”

You press your forehead to his, closing your eyes as you exhale softly—nodding as you whisper, “Okay." 

His hands grip your hips roughly, lifting you just enough to smack your ass—the sharp crack making your body jump as he growls, “Let's have some fun, yeah?"

A soft laugh bubbles up in your throat, but before you can respond, he’s already moving—grabbing a glass, rummaging through the fridge.  

“Want me to make you a drink?" he offers, half-turned toward you, already reaching for a bottle of rum.  

You shake your head, “You're an amazing cook, baby—not the best bartender. ‘M fine." 

“Oh?" His head snaps towards you, “So now my drinks ain’t good enough?" 

He turns back towards the fridge grabbing fresh fruit, mint, and crushed ice.  

“Gonna’ make you eat those words," he mutters—but there’s a smirk tugging at his lips. 

You grab the camera, following him into the kitchen with quiet steps—propping it up at the perfect angle to capture this moment. The lens frames him perfectly—his broad shoulders, the way his muscles flex as he bends into the fridge, rummaging for ingredients. You press yourself against his back, molding your body into the warmth of his frame, breathing him in.  

Eren chuckles—a low, rumbling sound—before reaching his arm back, large hand cradling your head gently. He tilts his face toward yours, capturing your lips in a slow, tender kiss.  

"Love you too," he murmurs against your mouth before pulling away, returning to his mission—citrus fruit in hand, determined to prove his bartending skills.   

“I’m really okay without a drink," you say softly.  

Eren immediately shoots you a frown. 

“We’ve been in St. Lucia for a month," he points out, voice dripping with faux sadness—“And you haven’t drank with me in two whole weeks. What’s goin’ on, huh? I thought you loved me?” 

“Pregnant women can’t drink, baby." 

Eren freezes. 

His hands still—mid-squeeze of a lime—juice dripping forgotten onto the counter.  

Slowly, he turns—his green eyes locking onto yours, darker than you’ve ever seen them.  

“Bunny," he says—just that—his voice a growl, rough with shock.  

You nod—shuddering out a nervous giggle—your fingers twisting together.  

“…Yeah." 

And then—his hands are on you, cupping your face, his thumbs brushing your cheeks as his forehead presses to yours—his breath uneven.  

“Fuck," he rasps—and for the first time in years, Eren Yeager sounds shaken.

“How long?" he rasps, voice rough with emotion.

You bite your lip, exhaling shakily. 

“Remember... when we first got here?” you murmur, brushing your thumbs over his wrists, “I cried because I wanted dragonfruit—and you scoured the whole island trying to find one?" 

A slow realization flickers in his eyes—because you don’t crave things like that. Not randomly. Not desperately. 

“…I knew something was off then," you admit softly, “Took a test a few days later...and I—" Your voice cracks slightly, “I didn’t believe it. ‘Thought I was seeing things. So I waited. ‘Took another one. And another." 

Eren’s jaw clenches—his breathing uneven—but you can see it in his eyes, the way his mind races, piecing together every moment, every mood swing, every sign.

“I’m sorry," you whimper, pressing your forehead harder against his, “I was so scared it was a false positive—‘didn’t want you to get your hopes up just for it to be nothing." 

His grip shifts—one hand sliding down to press against your stomach, his palm huge against you, like he’s already trying to feel what’s growing there. 

“When the doctors told me I was possibly infertile…it terrified me—not just because of what it meant for us, but because... I realized how much I wanted this. How much I wanted your baby." 

A tear slips free, trailing down your cheek as you continue, words spilling out in a fragile rush—  

“But Korea’s so far from home, ‘Ren. All our family’s back in New Orleans, and I—" Your breath hitches, “I want my momma through this. I want her with me when I’m scared, when I don’t know what’s happening to my body. I wanna be home. But I also don’t wanna be away from you—not for a single second of this.” 

Your throat tightens, another wave of fear crashing over you—  

“And our supporters... our careers... I’m scared of shutting ourselves away from the love we’ve built. I just don’t wanna feel alone—“

“Stop," he orders, voice raw with conviction, “Stop worryin’—right fuckin’ now. You hear me?" 

His grip tightens, eyes burning into yours—  

“I’d burn down whole goddamn countries for you. For this baby. You wanna go home? We’re goin’.You want your momma? I’ll carry her ass to Korea myself. You scared of bein’ alone? Not happenin’—not as long as I’m breathin’." 

A shuddering little cry escapes you—but Eren doesn’t let you crumble. He crushes you to his chest, his heartbeat thundering against your ear as he rasps—  

“You’re mine. This baby’s mine. Not distance, careers, not anythin’ will stop me from takin’ care of you.”

You mewl “I love you" against his lips in a tearful, trembling kiss—his mouth crashing into yours with a devotion so deep, it vibrates through your entire body. The heat of his hands cradling your face—every touch radiates pure, unfiltered love.  

Pulling back slightly, you turn your watery gaze toward the camera, your damp lashes fluttering as Eren ducks his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply—like he’s memorizing your scent, grounding himself in you.  

“We’re having a baby," you beam, voice thick with emotion, wiping your cheeks with the back of your hand.  

Eren lifts his head, eyes locking onto the camera—determined, possessive—before he gruffly murmurs, “Y’all been with us through everything. ‘No way we go through this without you. Expect more content—a lot more." 

Your breath catches—“You sure?" you whisper, searching his face.  

He nods without hesitation, “‘Only want you happy, Bunny.” 

And then—without warning—you launch yourself into him, legs wrapping around his waist as you giggle, “We’re having a babyyy!” 

Eren grunts as he catches you effortlessly, a playful growl rumbling in his chest as he clutches your body tight—“Let’s go see if we can get you pregnant twice.” 

eren flicks the cigarette over the balcony and disappears back inside. it takes him less than three minutes to change before you hear the glass door slide open and the soft pad of bare feet on warm stone.

when you look up again, he's walking toward you in black swim trunks hanging low on his hips, chest bare, and hair still in that messy bun. a crystal tumbler dangles from his fingers— something amber, probably whiskey, because he never drinks anything fruity unless you beg him to share yours.

in his other hand: a bottle of sunscreen. you giggle while pressing your cheek back into your folded arms. "you're so predictable."

"am i?" he asks as he sets the tumbler down on the table next to your lemon drop and crouches beside the lounge chair. the bottle clicks open as cool lotion drips onto your shoulder blades and you shiver. "i just don't want you to burn."

"uh-huh…whatever you say."

his hands land on your shoulders and he starts working the sunscreen into your skin. his palms glide down your spine, over your ribs, and his thumbs press into the small of your back as you melt into the cushion with a soft sigh.

he leans down, lips brushing your ear. "you left your top untied."

"did i?"

"you did." his hands slide lower, palms curving over the swell of your ass, thumbs dragging along the edge of your bikini bottoms. "careless girl."

you hum while arching your back just enough to press into his touch. "that's why i have you, smart man. to take care of me."

he squeezes both of your cheeks firmly and you feel him smile against your shoulder. "yeah," he murmurs, voice low and thick like the whiskey in his glass. "that's why you have me."

you feel his fingers find the loose strings of your bikini top before you even realize what he's doing as he gathers the strings, tying them carefully into a small bow between your shoulders.

his hands linger a moment longer than necessary as they smooths down your spine, tracing the dip of your waist. then he straightens and you hear the soft swish of liquid against glass as he picks up whatever liquor he brought down with him.

"jacuzzi," he says and you know it's not a question.

you push yourself up on your elbows while twisting to look at him over your shoulder as he's already walking toward the bubbling water.

"coming, baby?" he doesn't turn around but you can hear the smirk in his voice.

you scramble off the lounge chair quickly, nearly tripping over your own feet, and he chuckles as you pad barefoot across the warm stone to join him.

the jacuzzi bubbles softly in the corner of the pool area, steam curling up into the evening air. you climb in first, the hot water lapping at your thighs as you fix your hair clip, not wanting to mess up your freshly done hair. eren sets his glass down on the edge and steps in after you, water sloshing gently as he settles onto the submerged bench seat.

you don't hesitate as you climb right into his lap, knees pressing into the bench on either side of his hips, straddling him like you belong there. his hands find your waist immediately as his thumbs stroke lazy circles against your wet skin just above the hem of your bikini bottoms.

now you're nose to nose with him, his damp hair half fallen from the bun, loose strands sticking to his temple and his jaw. a few pieces cling to the column of his throat and you push them away gently just for an excuse to touch him.

"how was your day?" you ask softly, acrylics dragging down his chest.

he snorts. "you mean before or after i watched you tanning half naked in my backyard?"

"both." you press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. "tell me everything."

eren's hands slide up your back to pull you closer until your chests are pressed together. his skin is cool despite the warm water and you can feel his steady heartbeat against your chest. he's always so calm and controlled as his fingers dig into your waist lightly.

"dealt with a client who didn't know the difference between ram and storage," he murmurs against your temple. "had to explain it three times."

you kiss his cheeks as you watch his lashes flutter over them. "poor baby."

"then i had to call my accountant because someone-" he says as he pinches your side lightly, "spent five hundred dollars on bathing suits last week."

"that was for the bahamas and now, cabo!" you protest while grinning. "you said pack cute things."

"i said pack a suitcase, not bankrupt me."

you laugh and kiss his nose, then his jaw, then the spot just below his ear that makes his breath hitch. he lets you because he loves the way you spoil him with affection. his hands roam your back, tracing your spine, the dip of your waist, and the swell of your hips above the waterline.

and as you pepper his face with kisses, eren finds himself thinking how different this is and how different you are.

the babies before you were a little older and poised. they faked their laughs and forced their touches like affection was a transaction with them. they would've never climbed into his lap in broad daylight or kiss him in a jacuzzi like no one was watching.

but it’s also the way you kissed him breathless on that balcony in the bahamas with the ocean below and the way you giggled when he bent you over the railing, moaning loud enough for the whole resort to hear.

no one had ever been like that with him. no one had ever been so unafraid to want him but he doesn't say any of that out loud. he just pulls you tighter against his chest, one hand coming up to cradle the back of your head.

"cabo's gonna be good," you say between kisses, pulling back just enough to look at him. his green eyes soft in a way he'd never admit to. "right?"

"yeah." his thumb traces your bottom lip. "fly out the morning of your birthday. private villa with a beachfront. and that backless dress you like, i wanna see you in it."

"you're so good to me."

"i know."

you smack his chest lightly and he catches your wrist, pressing a kiss to your palm. his rings are cold against your skin, a stark contrast to the warm water and the heat building between your bodies.

"you're different, you know that?" he says quietly, almost like he didn't mean to say it out loud.

you tilt your head. "different how?"

eren just shakes his head, a small smile playing on his lips. "just different."

he doesn't elaborate but instead, his hands slide down to grip your ass, pulling you flush against him under the water. the bubbles hide the way his hips roll up into yours but you feel it and you gasp as your fingers curl into his damp hair.

"yeah?" his voice is rough now, the controlled mask slipping. "you gonna let me show everyone in cabo who you belong to?"

"mhm." you kiss him again, deeper this time, tongue sliding against his. he tastes like whiskey and something sweet from your lemon drop he stole a sip of earlier.

when you finally break for air, he's breathing hard as his forehead presses against yours.

"twenty three," he murmurs. "gonna be a good year for you."

"for us," you correct and the way his lips twitch makes your heart ache in the best way.

he pulls you tighter against his chest, one hand rubbing slow, soothing circles into your lower back. the jacuzzi bubbles around you both, and the city sprawls out below the penthouse, glittering and distant.

"you're gonna be the death of me," he says into your hair.

you grin against his neck. "but what a way to go, right?"

Silence. Just the heavy, frantic sound of his breathing. Then a broken, self-deprecating laugh. "Yeah. M'sorry. Can’t stop. Not when it’s you."​

Your breath stutters, a prickle of heat blooming low in your belly. "You’re getting off to me? On the damn phone?"

​"Every time," he admits, his voice rough and needy, but with a sudden edge of raw honesty. He wants you to know. He wants you to feel the weight of it. "Think about you all the time. That mouth. Those tits. The way your ass looks in those shorts." His pace picks up, the slick, lewd sounds of his hand working his dick filling the line. "Fuck, I’d do anything to see you ride me, just once. Just to see what that look on your face is like when I’m deep inside you."

​You bite your lip, your pulse kicking against your throat. "That’s disgusting. Using my voice to get your nut. You’re nasty."​

He groans like you’ve just blessed him with a touch. "Yeah, I know. But you're all I think about... you’re the only thing that gets me this hard."​

"That's nice, honey. But you really shouldn't think of me like that... you know we're just friends," you murmur, your own hand sliding down to rest heavy on your thigh, the silk of your shorts cool against your palm.​

"Don’t say that." His tone cuts sharp now, all the nice playfulness you've come to love is gone. "I’m not your fucking friend. You call me every day. You tell me you love me. I told you from the start—I’m not your friend." His breath hitches, the wet sounds of his fist speeding up, becoming more frantic. "You let me talk to you like this. And you let me—You let me be in your life knowing how I feel about you."​

Your acrylic nail drags slow across your bottom lip. "Maybe. But I can't give you what you want, and I do love you, but don't throw it in my face," you drawl, a cruel, satisfied smirk pulling at your mouth.

"It’s kinda sad. Stroking your dick to a girl you’ll never have. We'll never be together. I’ll never let you fuck me. All you get is your hand."

​He chokes out a moan, his hips snapping up into his fist with a raw, mechanical rhythm. "Yeah? Then give me something else. Show me. Facetime me, ma. Please."​

You hesitate, the heat pooling heavy and agonizing between your thighs. Then, you click over.​

The screen flickers to life. His camera is shaking, his breath filling the dark room. Sweat beads at his temples, his face flushed a deep, beautiful bronze, his lips parted. You know that tremor in the camera—it’s the force of his fist moving fast.​

"Thank you," he exhales, the word almost reverent as he takes in your appearance.

​"Hi, baby. Let me see your face," you don't ask it like a question. You order it.​

He obeys instantly. His face fills the screen, his jaw tight and corded, his sharp fade a bit messy from the heat and the friction.

​"You look good," you compliment, but the little laugh that follows makes it sting.

​"Keep talking." He’s close, you can hear the strain in his voice. "Don't stop."​

"I want to see."​

He blinks, his eyes glazed and dark. "What?"

​"I'm not repeating myself."

​He lets out a breathless, desperate laugh, knowing your patience is thin. "Take your shirt off then. Let me see what I'm working for."​

You narrow your eyes at the audacity, but you reach down and tug the pajama top off anyway. Your lace bra catches the light, the fabric straining against the fullness of your breasts. You don’t cover yourself; he’s seen you in less, and you want him to see exactly what he’s missing.

​"Fuck," he groans, a sound of pure, unadulterated pain. He flips the camera.​

Your breath catches. Your mouth goes dry. His dick is a complete mess—his fist is working tight and fast, the dark, veined length of him glistening with pre-cum. White streaks of cum are already dried tacky over his thighs from previous rounds, and his stomach is flexing with every pull. His abs are glistening, his skin slick with sweat. His thumb smears a fresh bead of precum over the flushed, velvet head until it gleams, dripping onto his knuckles.

​You bite your lip hard, heat twisting through your belly, your shorts already sticking damp between your thighs.

​His moan rips through the line, a guttural, animal sound.​

You whisper his name, your voice low, trembling, and possessive. "... I really want you in my mouth."​

His head snaps back against the pillow, a broken curse ripped from his lungs. "If I had you here? I’d fuck that throat till you cried. Till you gagged around me and begged for air. I’d hold your head and make you take every fucking inch."​

You hum, a low, taunting vibration. "You’re not tough enough for that."​

That pulls a dark, dangerous laugh from him. His hand works faster, the veins straining down his forearm. "Say that shit again. I’d hold your face down and shove my dick so deep you’ll feel me in your chest. I’ll make you swallow every drop."

​Your thighs squeeze together, wetness soaking through the crotch of your shorts. "All talk. You’d fold the second it touched my tongue."​

He groans, deep and pained. "God, you drive me fucking insane." His breath stutters, then—"Take your bra off for me. Now."

​You tilt your head, slow and teasing. "You want a show?"​

"Take it off." His voice is rough, a plea threaded with a hard command.

​You hook your fingers into the lace, slipping it down your shoulders, letting it fall. Your breasts sit full and heavy in the camera’s glow, your nipples tight and peaked in the cool air.​

He chokes on his own breath. "God, look at you. Perfect. Fucking perfect."​

Your fingers lift, tugging lightly at one nipple, rolling it between your fingers. "Like this, baby?"​

His hand drags hard down his dick, the slick sound of it filling your ears. "Yeah—play with them for me. Pinch ‘em. Roll ‘em." His eyes roll back for a second, his mouth slack. "Fuck—I wanna cum all over those tits. Paint you, watch it drip down your stomach. You’d look so good messy with my cum."​

You coo, your voice dirty and soft. "Yeah, baby? You wanna ruin me like that? Wanna cover me ‘cause I’m yours?" You pinch harder, moaning low. "Mmh, I’d let you do it however you want."​

His hips jerk up into his fist, his cock flushed dark, thick, and veined. The head is shiny with slick, and your eyes stay locked on it, transfixed by the weight of him in his palm.​

You whisper, almost reverent. "I can’t stop watching your hands. They're so big and veiny. So strong. You're twitching in your grip—look at you, baby. All that for me."

​He groans raggedly, his fist slapping wetly down the length of his shaft. "All for you. Always for you." His voice cracks, desperate. "Squeeze 'em, touch your tits harder. Let me see you play with those pretty nipples."

​You squeeze your breast, pinch your nipple harder, tugging it until you gasp, your eyes locked on his fist pumping. The sound of it—wet, obscene, skin slapping skin—is the only thing in the world.​

"Fuck," he grits out, his voice frayed. "I’d drag you down and smear every drop over you. I wanna fill you up."

​You laugh softly, mean but sweet. "Yeah? You’d mark me up? Cover me so everybody knows this pussy’s yours? Even though you’ll never get to fuck it?"​

He groans, almost breaking under the weight of the tease. "Stop—don’t say that. I’d fuck you stupid, ma. I’d split you open. Make you cry for me."​

You hum, stroking your breast with slow, deliberate circles. "I bet you would. But right now? All you’ve got is your hand. And me watching."​

His grip tightens, his strokes becoming rough and fast. His stomach flexes, his breath tearing ragged from his chest. You lean close to the screen, your voice low and syrup-thick.​

"Cum for me, baby."​

He moans, a high, guttural sound.​

"Yeah," you coax, squeeze your breast, shifting them again, "make a mess for me. Let me see you shoot it all over yourself. Come on. Show me how much you want me."​

"Fuck—" His hips stutter up into his fist. Precum spills slick down his shaft, his knuckles shiny and wet.

​"Begging you, sweetheart," you whisper, cruel and filthy. "Paint yourself for me. Cover that stomach, those big hands—show me what I do to you."​

He chokes, his eyes squeezing shut, his jaw locked tight as his body begins to coil for the release. "M’close—oh fuck, I’m gonna—"​

"Do it," you purr, sharp and commanding. "Cum for me, baby. Now."

​His whole body jerks. A shout rips from his throat, raw and primal, as thick, hot ropes of cum spill over his hand, his chest, dripping down his stomach in heavy white streaks. He pumps through the release, groaning brokenly, the cum splattering messy and hot across his skin.

​You sigh, watching the way it looks against his skin, your voice turning sweet again. "That’s it. Good boy. Look at that dick, dripping for me. You made such a mess."

​He’s panting, ruined, his hand still twitching around his softening length. "Fuck... fuck, I love you."

​You tilt the camera, watching him still sprawled—sweat dripping, stomach streaked with cum, hand twitching.

​"Mmh," you hum, soft and wicked, "look what you did, baby. Got me all wet."

​His head snaps up, eyes heavy but blazing. "Show me."

​You smirk, slipping your hand under the waistband of your shorts, dragging the damp fabric aside. Glossy, honey-thick strings pull as you spread yourself open, the phone angled just enough to flash him a glimpse of your soaking wet center. "See that? All for you."

​He groans, his chest heaving. "Touch it for me. Play with yourself—please, ma."​

Your laugh is low and cruel. "Not a chance. You already got your show."​

His jaw tightens, his voice rough. "Don't play with me. You don't let me watch, I'll make you beg next time. I'll make you sorry."​

You lean close to the screen, your smirk sharp and triumphant. "Try me. You don't scare me, baby. I said no."​

His fist curls against his stomach, frustration pouring through the camera. "Then... at least—fuck—at least let me listen. Please. Let me hear it."

​You bite your lip, dragging your fingers slow through your slickness, making yourself whimper. "You’re nasty."

​"Yeah," he rasps, desperate. "For you. Only for you."​

You sigh, soft and sweet, pressing two fingers against your clit until your hips twitch. "Fine. You can listen. But that’s it. Just your ears."

​Your moans slip out, low and syrupy, filling the line. His breath shudders at the sound, ruined but hungry again. Your fingers circle your clit, the wet, squelching sounds of your own pleasure bleeding into the line. You bite your lip, letting a whimper slip, knowing he’s eating every sound alive.​

"That’s it," he rasps, his voice still raw from cumming. "Rub that pretty pussy for me. God, I wanna be there so bad—wanna hold your thighs open and eat you till you’re crying."​

Your head tips back, your breath shaky. "Mghn—You talk so nasty, baby."​

"You don’t even know," he grits out. "I’d spread you out and pound that pussy till you scream. I’d fuck you till you smell like me. I'd never let you leave the bed."​

A moan rips out of you, high and breathless. Your fingers circle faster, your hips rolling up off the bed as the tension coils.

​"You like that?" he groans. "Knowing how bad I want you? Tell me you’ll give it up one day. Tell me I’ll get to fuck you for real."​

Your laugh cuts sharp and shaky. "N-No, baby. You’ll never have me like that."​

He curses, a guttural sound of frustration. "Fuck. You’re killing me, ma."​

Your moans rise, sharper now, your body coiling tight. "Keep talking. Don't stop."

​He obeys, his voice a low, gravelly anchor. "I’d hold your hips down. Spit in your mouth while I fuck you raw. Fill you up and make you go for hours."​

That does it—your back arches, your thighs clenching tight as your orgasm rips through you. A sharp cry tears from your throat, your fingers working frantically over your clit as waves of pleasure slam through your body. You gasp his name, shuddering and trembling, your juices dripping messy against your hand.​

He groans raggedly, listening to the sound of your break like it’s gospel. "That’s it—fuck, that’s it. Cum for me. Good girl. Good fucking girl."​

You collapse back, chest heaving, sweat dampening your skin. You let out a low, satisfied hum. "Oh, shit... see what you did? You made me cum, handsome."

​His breath hitches on the other end, broken and reverent. "...I’d do anything to see that."​

Your breathing slows, your chest still rising and falling heavy. Your fingers slip from your soaked folds, leaving a wet sheen on your thighs. The line is quiet except for the sound of you both catching your breath.

He’s the first to break it, his voice ragged. "Man... I swear, one day—"​

You cut him off with a sweet, dismissive little laugh, curling back into your pillow and pulling the covers up. "Shh. Don’t start again."

​The silence stretches, thick and heavy with the things he wants to say. You can feel the ache in his voice, how close he is to spilling confessions you aren't ready to hear. So you give him something else. Something cruel, but honest.​

"Thank you," you murmur, soft and sweet. Almost tender. "I love you so much, baby."​

The phone goes quiet. You can picture him—eyes wide, lips parted, his heart clenching around those words. You know exactly what you’ve done to him.​

You smile to yourself, curling the blanket over your bare chest. "Good night."​

And you hang up before he can even find his voice to answer.

★𝑷𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆 𝑺𝒖𝒑𝒑𝒐𝒓𝒕 𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝑪𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒔 𝒃𝒚 𝑹𝒆𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒈★

Dividers by @sweetparty

eren flicks the cigarette over the balcony and disappears back inside. it takes him less than three minutes to change before you hear the glass door slide open and the soft pad of bare feet on warm stone.

when you look up again, he's walking toward you in black swim trunks hanging low on his hips, chest bare, and hair still in that messy bun. a crystal tumbler dangles from his fingers— something amber, probably whiskey, because he never drinks anything fruity unless you beg him to share yours.

in his other hand: a bottle of sunscreen. you giggle while pressing your cheek back into your folded arms. "you're so predictable."

"am i?" he asks as he sets the tumbler down on the table next to your lemon drop and crouches beside the lounge chair. the bottle clicks open as cool lotion drips onto your shoulder blades and you shiver. "i just don't want you to burn."

"uh-huh…whatever you say."

his hands land on your shoulders and he starts working the sunscreen into your skin. his palms glide down your spine, over your ribs, and his thumbs press into the small of your back as you melt into the cushion with a soft sigh.

he leans down, lips brushing your ear. "you left your top untied."

"did i?"

"you did." his hands slide lower, palms curving over the swell of your ass, thumbs dragging along the edge of your bikini bottoms. "careless girl."

you hum while arching your back just enough to press into his touch. "that's why i have you, smart man. to take care of me."

he squeezes both of your cheeks firmly and you feel him smile against your shoulder. "yeah," he murmurs, voice low and thick like the whiskey in his glass. "that's why you have me."

you feel his fingers find the loose strings of your bikini top before you even realize what he's doing as he gathers the strings, tying them carefully into a small bow between your shoulders.

his hands linger a moment longer than necessary as they smooths down your spine, tracing the dip of your waist. then he straightens and you hear the soft swish of liquid against glass as he picks up whatever liquor he brought down with him.

"jacuzzi," he says and you know it's not a question.

you push yourself up on your elbows while twisting to look at him over your shoulder as he's already walking toward the bubbling water.

"coming, baby?" he doesn't turn around but you can hear the smirk in his voice.

you scramble off the lounge chair quickly, nearly tripping over your own feet, and he chuckles as you pad barefoot across the warm stone to join him.

the jacuzzi bubbles softly in the corner of the pool area, steam curling up into the evening air. you climb in first, the hot water lapping at your thighs as you fix your hair clip, not wanting to mess up your freshly done hair. eren sets his glass down on the edge and steps in after you, water sloshing gently as he settles onto the submerged bench seat.

you don't hesitate as you climb right into his lap, knees pressing into the bench on either side of his hips, straddling him like you belong there. his hands find your waist immediately as his thumbs stroke lazy circles against your wet skin just above the hem of your bikini bottoms.

now you're nose to nose with him, his damp hair half fallen from the bun, loose strands sticking to his temple and his jaw. a few pieces cling to the column of his throat and you push them away gently just for an excuse to touch him.

"how was your day?" you ask softly, acrylics dragging down his chest.

he snorts. "you mean before or after i watched you tanning half naked in my backyard?"

"both." you press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. "tell me everything."

eren's hands slide up your back to pull you closer until your chests are pressed together. his skin is cool despite the warm water and you can feel his steady heartbeat against your chest. he's always so calm and controlled as his fingers dig into your waist lightly.

"dealt with a client who didn't know the difference between ram and storage," he murmurs against your temple. "had to explain it three times."

you kiss his cheeks as you watch his lashes flutter over them. "poor baby."

"then i had to call my accountant because someone-" he says as he pinches your side lightly, "spent five hundred dollars on bathing suits last week."

"that was for the bahamas and now, cabo!" you protest while grinning. "you said pack cute things."

"i said pack a suitcase, not bankrupt me."

you laugh and kiss his nose, then his jaw, then the spot just below his ear that makes his breath hitch. he lets you because he loves the way you spoil him with affection. his hands roam your back, tracing your spine, the dip of your waist, and the swell of your hips above the waterline.

and as you pepper his face with kisses, eren finds himself thinking how different this is and how different you are.

the babies before you were a little older and poised. they faked their laughs and forced their touches like affection was a transaction with them. they would've never climbed into his lap in broad daylight or kiss him in a jacuzzi like no one was watching.

but it’s also the way you kissed him breathless on that balcony in the bahamas with the ocean below and the way you giggled when he bent you over the railing, moaning loud enough for the whole resort to hear.

no one had ever been like that with him. no one had ever been so unafraid to want him but he doesn't say any of that out loud. he just pulls you tighter against his chest, one hand coming up to cradle the back of your head.

"cabo's gonna be good," you say between kisses, pulling back just enough to look at him. his green eyes soft in a way he'd never admit to. "right?"

"yeah." his thumb traces your bottom lip. "fly out the morning of your birthday. private villa with a beachfront. and that backless dress you like, i wanna see you in it."

"you're so good to me."

"i know."

you smack his chest lightly and he catches your wrist, pressing a kiss to your palm. his rings are cold against your skin, a stark contrast to the warm water and the heat building between your bodies.

"you're different, you know that?" he says quietly, almost like he didn't mean to say it out loud.

you tilt your head. "different how?"

eren just shakes his head, a small smile playing on his lips. "just different."

he doesn't elaborate but instead, his hands slide down to grip your ass, pulling you flush against him under the water. the bubbles hide the way his hips roll up into yours but you feel it and you gasp as your fingers curl into his damp hair.

"yeah?" his voice is rough now, the controlled mask slipping. "you gonna let me show everyone in cabo who you belong to?"

"mhm." you kiss him again, deeper this time, tongue sliding against his. he tastes like whiskey and something sweet from your lemon drop he stole a sip of earlier.

when you finally break for air, he's breathing hard as his forehead presses against yours.

"twenty three," he murmurs. "gonna be a good year for you."

"for us," you correct and the way his lips twitch makes your heart ache in the best way.

he pulls you tighter against his chest, one hand rubbing slow, soothing circles into your lower back. the jacuzzi bubbles around you both, and the city sprawls out below the penthouse, glittering and distant.

"you're gonna be the death of me," he says into your hair.

you grin against his neck. "but what a way to go, right?"

Most times, giving head is just a performance of “niceties” to him. If the girl he’s fucking with at the moment wants it, cool. If she doesn’t, that’s cool, too.

But, clearly Diamanté’s something special.

Real special, alright.

He just wants to put his mouth on her and devour her pussy until he passes out from lack of air.

And he couldn’t give a fuck less about the hair-thing—fuck it, he thinks it makes her taste even better. He swears he could cum off of her shit alone.

“‘Jani?”

His daze breaks and he recognizes worry on her face.

“Shit.”

“What?” She tries to sit up straighter. Her eyes search his for any sign of regret.

Did this just ruin things between them? God, she prays it didn’t.

“I wanna eat it again.”

Fear drops from her face as his words set in. It’s too funny for him not to laugh. His head falls into her chest, and as laughter wracks through him, Diamanté finds herself joining in.

“Nah, but … I ain’t joking, though.”

“Shut up,” she smiles, pushing his head back.

“What? You not tryna let me?”

She kisses her perfect teeth with the roll of her eyes. 

“Shit was so wet,” he smirks, stretching his hands up her thick thighs. “M’trynna drown in it,” he mumbles into her neck.

“Oh my gosh,” she says softly, feeling her shy nature return.

A soft hum rumbles from his throat as he presses his soft lips to her hot skin. “C’mon, Dia’.” 

A clipped gasp leaves her as she jumps. Gentle fingers push softly past her lips to gently stroke her clit.

“Ajani,” she whines with a pout. “I’m sensitive.”

He plants a tiny smooch at the crook of her neck and shoulder. “Want me to stop?”

“Mmh…”

The tip of his tongue kitten-licks her smooth skin. “Tell me to stop.”

Her skinny fingers wrap around the bicep of the hand he’s got between her legs.

“Tell me.”

She mewls, hips twitching shyly.

“Mhm.” He lifts his head to stare at the desperate look on her cute, round face. “Go ‘head.”

Her hips almost do a full rock before she’s stopping herself, trying to hold back. Her lips part with a shaky breath.

“C’mon … get that nut, baby.”

His words place confidence within in her movements. He slides his hand deeper between her legs, offering up more of himself. 

She rocks her pussy against the heel of his palm, riding him. His dick pulses, watching her use his hand to get off. Her juices collect all over his fingers.

“Hah—yes … y-yes,” she whines as quiet as possible. 

But he can still hear it. And he wants to hear more. He wants her to be louder. 

As she shifts against the heel of his palm, he teases her quivering pussy with his fingers. Her lower stomach sucks in as she inches closer to her release.

“Shit so warm,” he says to himself, burying the pads of his fingers into her walls. “Need’a be in that.”

Her thighs clamp around his wrist and her hand squeezes his arm with all its might.

“Need’a be in that pussy so bad.”

A broken moan flutters from her. Her hips stop as her pussy chokes on his fingers. She’s only still for a full second when a harsh shudder wracks throughout her body.

Before he can even ask, he feels her hot, wet  milky release dribble down his fingers and hand.

Heavy bouts of air puff out of her as she trembles from her orgasm.

It’s only been the second time, but Ajani can safely admit to himself that he loves watching her cum. He thinks he can become obsessed with it, honestly.

Coming out of his thoughts, he realizes just how quiet she is. Before he gets the chance to comment on it, her smaller arms wrap gently over his shoulders and she rest her head against his chest.

“You good?” He chuckles.

She nods wordlessly, eyes falling closed.

He uses his other hand to rub her back, hoping to soothe her.

“You tired?”

She nods again, much slower this time.

“Aight.”

He pulls away from her only to get out of the pool. And as he walks towards her, he can only laugh at the drowsy look on her face.

But the look only lasts so long when her eyes widen. Against his left leg, his dick print is way too visible. Especially with how his swim trunks cling to his skin.

“What?” He looks down at where her gaze is pointed to and he tucks his lips as an awkward smile pulls at his face. “Shit.”

She points to it. “Are you—“

“Don’t worry ‘bout that. You wanna go to bed?”

She takes one more glance at his erection before nodding.

He holds out a hand and she grabs it, allowing him to pull her to her feet. As she stands, her legs tingle.

For a split second, he catches just a glimpse of her pussy before she shields herself with her hands. 

His dick twitches and he’s gotta cover himself, hoping she hadn’t noticed. He even tries pushing it down some.

“Where’s my bottoms?” In all of that craziness, she hadn’t even realized where they’d gone.

When they both look around, they quickly spot it floating in the pool water.

“Shit, my fault,” Ajani says.

She pouts, staring at it.

“I could get ‘em for you,” he offers.

“They’re gonna be cold and wet.”

He almost coos at her frowny face.

“And I hate going commando,” she groans softly. “Damn…”

He’s quiet for a moment, thinking, as she cries over spilled milk. 

“I knew I should’ve brought an extra—oh my gosh!”

Her stomach swoops as she’s hoisted up. Instinctively, her legs wrap tight around his waist and her arms do the same around his shoulders.

“Ajani!”

“What? It seemed like the only other option, you was complaining about everything else.”

“I-I’m not even wearing anything.” Her voice is small and she almost wants to hide her face.

“And that’s supposed to matter to me?”

Her back is so straight it’s almost arched, as she’s hyper aware of his hands on her ass to hold her up. That, and the fact that there’s less of an inch of space between his abs and her pussy.

She definitely has to be careful.

“You wanna come down?”

She averts her gaze. “Don’t drop me…”

The corners of his lips rise into a crooked smile before he brings them inside. As they enter the dark house, warm air sheathes them. 

“Bedroom’s upstairs,” he breathes out as he nears the staircase.

“Oh, I can come down if you—oh.”

He hoists her up higher right before climbing the steps. His grip on her tightens as he holds her closer.

And, of course, she doesn’t say anything. He won’t either. But, Ajani would be lying if he said that her pussy pressed against his stomach isn’t something that excites him.

With each step, her body does a tiny bounce. And with every bounce, her breathing gets heavier and heavier. Until she lets out a squeak.

When he trumps the final step, she sighs out in relief as the friction between them lessens.

Finally, they enter the bedroom, and she can’t be happier to see a bed. Gently, he sets her down on the large mattress with a grunt.

“Hoo!” he breathes out, hands on his hips. “Shit was a whole workout.”

“Shut up,” she giggles.

Quiet as he tries to regain his breath, he trudges towards the shuttered balcony doors and pushes them open.

A soft breeze shuffles into the room and it feels great on their heated skins. 

Practically forgetting his presence in the room, Diamanté stretches against the pristine, white sheets. She practically moans as her back arches deeply, ass sticking up higher than her shoulders.

Standing off to the side, Ajani only watches her with folded arms and low eyes. 

She don’t even know how sexy that shit is.

His arms fall to his sides, only for a hand to ghost over his front. Mindlessly, he squeezes his dick through his trunks.

Slowly, she melts into the sheets. Body relaxed, her eyes flutter open to find him still across the room, watching her.

“You wanna go to sleep?”

His voice has got a tired rasp to it. That’s how she knows they’ve been up for too long. And yet, she’s embarrassed about the way her pussy clenches just from the sound of it.

Embarrassed by who? For what?

She only shrugs.

Ajani smiles. She doesn’t hear the tiny breath of amusement that leaves him.

“So what you staying up for? Thought you was tired.”

The bottom of her lip catches between her teeth before she gives a lazy half-shrug.

“Fucking liar.”

She rolls her eyes, a smile pulling her bottom lip from her teeth. Letting the expression speak for itself, she closes her eyes.

The only light in the room is from the moon as it spills in from the open doors.

In such little amount of light, she looks ethereal. Fuck it if that sounds corny, but that’s the only word that comes to mind as he’s looking at her.

“Stop staring at me and come to bed,” she mumbles, eyes still closed.

“My shorts still wet.”

“Take them off.”

She almost didn’t even believe the words that came out of her own mouth. Her eyes open, seeing the smile on his face only deepen.

“Yeah, you keep up that bold shit.”

Only a couple of seconds pass until he pushes himself off of the wall. And just the same, Diamanté’s body moves without thought.

She sits up and her braids fall over her shoulders. An idea spurs in her head, but she second-guesses it. Just do it, her brain whispers to her. 

There’s no objection.

As Ajani steps closer, she reaches behind herself to pull at the strings keeping her bikini up.

He halts when her swim top is thrown off of the side of the bed. Her small, perky titties are out for him to see.

His mouth waters, desperate to curl around and suck on one of her chocolate drop nipples.

He can still see the hickie he put near one of them.

“Okay,” he nods.

Maybe it’s the fatigue that’s getting to her brain and swallowing up her usual meek nature.

My turn, he thinks.

He doesn’t break eye contact as he pulls the drawstring on his trunks loose. There’s only so much stalling one can do when it comes to undressing. He peels the shorts off. 

As he pushes the wet fabric down his skin, his dick softly bobs in the warm air as it’s released.

She prays he didn’t see the way her eyes widened by a fraction—certainly more awake than she was just a couple of seconds ago.

He’s so thick. She almost winces, thinking about how he’d probably split her open. Her pussy weeps just thinking about it.

A tiny bushel of dark, curly hair lays at the base of his dick, neatly trimmed. And she knows she can hardly see in the relative darkness, but from what the moonlight exposes—his dick is so pretty.

She can’t believe she’d ever think something like that about one of her best friends.

But the smooth, deep brown skin is alluring. His two-toned tip fades from a lush pink to a brown. Not only is he thick, but he’s got a mean curve that will definitely fuck up her walk.

Only a few inches of space separate them as he stands at the edge of the bed, staring down at her. He wets his bottom lip, so tempted to touch her.

“Lemme eat it one more time.”

She doesn’t even nod. She only sits back on her elbows and parts her legs. Beneath her lashes and her glasses, her big doe eyes look up at him.

He has to remind himself to keep his cool.

Carefully, he gets down on his knees before the bed and pulls her closer to the edge by her thighs.

His dick jumps, watching her open up for him again.

This time around, Diamanté keeps a hand on his head, tugging at his braids. It’s enchanting, watching him feast on her. 

His jaw works tirelessly to pull every sound and drop out of her.

Her grip on his braids tighten as he turns his head to tongue-kiss her pussy deeper.

“Mmh,” she mewls like a kitten, pushing her hips into his face.

His jaw glistens under the few streaks of moonlight that hit on them. He sounds like he’s in a heated make-out session with someone, and she can’t even believe that she’s that wet.

With her tight grip, she pulls. His spine almost curls and she feels his mouth slacken as he moans into her.

She bites down on her lower lip, liking that he seems to enjoy this treatment. So, she waits another minute before pulling again.

He moans louder. This time, pushing a hand down, between himself and the bed.

She hisses as he laps at her clit. Her pussy only ever clenches, finding it impossible to stop as he pays it so much attention.

She yanks on his hair, and he’s got to squeeze his dick to keep from cumming. But, of course, his eyes roll back until they close. 

His mouth never stops, though, buried in her pool of honey.

“‘Jani,” she moans softly. 

Her breath hitches cutely. As he holds one of her thighs, he feels it tremble beneath his hand.

Finally, he comes up for air. His eyes are low, stuck in a trance-like state. Pussy-whipped is the better term.

He stares at her messy cunt, dripping with slobber and slick. Pursing his lips, he pushes  out frothy bubbles of spit. It drips down on her. When it lands, he’s opening his mouth wide to take her mound in.

Slowly he releases each part of her until her clit is the only thing he’s sucking on. He releases that, too, with a loud pop.

Then she’s right back in his mouth, eyes closed as he runs his wide tongue all through her sopping folds and crevices. 

And the taste is so addicting, he can’t stop drinking from her. He hasn’t even noticed the telltale signs of her body tensing. Let alone acknowledged when her pussy was sputtering out a third release for the night. 

He only sopped it right up, coaxing for more.

“A-Ajani—oh … fuck,” her voice breaks and her thighs squeeze his head so hard, trapping him in her.

She doesn’t mean to, but she’s yanking on his hair so hard that he’s got no choice but to release her from his mouth.

And that’s only because his lips part to groan out incoherently into her. His dick shoots out thick spurts of cum before he can stop it.

He can’t even breathe, and he doesn’t think he wants to. ‘Cause if he had to choose a way to go out, this would be it; suffocated from being face-deep in Diamanté’s pussy.

When her thighs finally open, she has to push his head back for him to get air.

“No more,” she pleads, believing that round of this would definitely kill her.

His mouth is open, like he’s ready to beg for more. But, as he inhales, the fog over him lifts and his common sense slowly returns.

“My fault,” he croaks. 

As he licks his lips, tasting what’s left of her, he gets the urge to go back in for more. But his self-control is just strong enough to hold himself back.

However, nothing stops him from staring as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. Tiny bubbles of her leftover release dribble from her slowly clenching hole. The milky essence slides down the valley of her ass cheeks, disappearing between them.

“Your … hair.”

Slowly, he looks up at her. It takes his brain seconds to catch up.

“Oh…” He reaches up to run a hand through the frizz, noting how messy they’ve gotten. “S’cool.”

Dia’ stares at him, eyes wide with concern. But, she cannot stop the laugh that bursts out of her. She tries to stop it up with a hand to the mouth, but it doesn’t work.

Tiredly, he laughs along. But his laughter is quickly intercepted by the words: “Oh … shiiit.”

The mess he made against the bed frame, his thighs, and his hand finally catches his notice.

“What?” She sits up to look where he’s looking, only to give the same reaction. “Oh my gosh,” she whispers, a surprised smile lifting her lips.

“Fuck,” he laughs. “Aw shit…”

She peers down at him from on top of the bed, a mischievous, kitten-like smile on her lips.

“Didn’t know you liked hair pulling.”

He kisses his teeth with the shake of his head, braids flopping around. “Shit, me neither.”

Carefully, Diamanté climbs off of the bed and pads over to the bathroom connected to the room. 

The countertop is littered with a couple of Ajani’s toiletries.

She gathers a good enough amount of toilet paper in her hand. But, before she leaves the bathroom, she catches her reflection in the mirror.

Yet another gasp slips past her lips for the night as she finds that huge ass hickey on her chest. 

Even against her deep brown skin, the blooming mixture of red and purple is harshly visible. 

At least no one else will see it.

She exits the bathroom, running on her tip-toes to get back to Ajani.

“Here.”

She sticks out her hand, offering the toilet paper wad for him to use.

“‘Preciate it.” Gingerly, he takes it and begins wiping up his mess. 

Speaking of mess, her eyes really widen when she sees the huge wet spot, soaked into the sheet.

“How are we gonna clean this up?”

“Hm?” He picks his head up to the messy bed. “It’s cool. Long as we throw it in the washer, we good.”

“Oh my God, what about your friend? He’s gonna be so mad we did this in his house.”

The fear on her face is hilarious. He can only laugh.

“Chill, he don’t gotta know.”

“This isn’t funny—this is his bed.”

“One of ‘em.” He stands at full height, almost wincing at the way his knees click. “This just his vacation house, he not even here most’a the year.”

His words do little ease her worries.

“If it makes you feel better …” He quickly dumps the soiled tissue in the bathroom toilet and flushes it. “There’s only cameras in the front yard and back,” he announces as he comes back out.

“The … backyard?”

“Yeah.” 

“The backyard? Where we just came from?”

“Yea—oh…”

She stares at him with wide eyes and her mouth agape.

But it’s too late to do some shit about it now.

He releases a sigh. “Let’s hope he don’t look at the footage.”

“This is so bad,” she frowns.

“Relax, okay?”

“We were being fucking recorded.”

And he can’t lie, the thought of that makes his dick just a tiny bit stiff. Admittedly, there’s a teeny, tiny part of him that wishes he could have the footage. But, he has to remain focused.

“If he seen us, I’m sure he would’a called me by now.”

“How would you know? You don’t even have your phone!”

He opens his mouth to object, but he quickly realizes she’s right. Her words remind him that they’d left their devices outside.

“Go check!” she whisper-yells.

“Alright.”

Quickly, he pulls his swim trunks back on to head back out into the backyard. The soft yellow lights and torches are the only things illuminating the rather still space.

Standing in the midst of it all, he peers up to search for the supposed camera out here.

There’s one hidden in one of the palm trees. Another connected to the house, just beneath the part of the roof that juts out.

So they definitely caught that shit.

Inhaling deeply, he forces himself to look away and search for their phones instead. He’d found them on a small side table near the lounge area they’d been seated at.

He double-taps his screen; 3:42 in the morning.

Goddamn.

He swipes at his notifications, finding it empty. Relief floods him.

Before he returns to the house, he swipes up his and Diamanté’s shoes, her biker shorts and sweater, and her swim suit bottoms from the pool.

He makes a pit stop at the laundry room, throwing all of their clothes—his swim trunks included—into the washer before heading back to the bedroom.

Sitting on the bed, chewing one of her nails in worry, is how Ajani finds her.

“Here,” he says, tossing her his phone.

She catches it, opening it to find a couple of messages from their shared group chat and some lone ones from Aleya, telling her to let her know when she gets home.

Clicking off the phone, she rests it face down next to her.

“Did he say anything.”

He shakes his head. “Not a peep. So can we relax now?”

She gives a displeased hum, but doesn’t say anymore regarding the topic after that.

“Where are your pants?”

He glances down at himself. “Oh, yeah—found all our shit outside and I threw the clothes into the washer downstairs.”

She nods.

“I got our shoes, too.” He nods over to their slides near the bedroom door.

“Thank you.”

“Mhm.” He comes to sit at the edge of the bed, sighing out. 

“Why didn’t you come get the sheets for the washer?”

“One … I ain’t even think that far,” he laughs, and she gives a small chuckle of her own. “And, two … I’on know, maybe we not … done, yet.” He barely shrugs, keeping his gaze forward. 

And Diamanté finds herself getting giddy. As she stares at him from behind, a tiny smile breaks through on her face. 

Her lack of a response makes him look back at her, scared that might’ve meant some form of a silent rejection.

But, when he sees that smile on those beautiful lips, he doesn’t have shit to worry about.

Whose idea was it to ride?

Hers? 

Or his?

Was he the one that suggested it and she went along with it?

Maybe it was the other way around?

Either way, his back rests against the wooden headboard, head angled up as he watches her hover over his lap.

A hand on his shoulder to balance herself, and the other holding his dick up.

“S’right there,” he whispers softly, a hand on her left thigh and rubbing circles into the smooth skin with his thumb. “You got it.”

Her eyes fall closed as she rubs his fat tip against her clit and drags it to her slick opening. 

She hopes to gather as much moisture as possible and to coax herself to relax. Her pussy weeps on his latex-covered head as she presses it in.

A soft cry falls from her as she pushes herself lower, his wide head splitting her open—just as she predicted.

His breath wavers as he’s plunged into her warmth.

“Fuck … so fuckin’ tight,” he whispers. His hand on her thigh grips harder.

“Mmh—I can’t. I can’t, I can’t,” she whines, face screwing up as her hips locks up, thighs burning and shaking.

“Just go slow,” he soothes. “Go slow, baby.”

His hand snakes up her thigh to hold her hip as his other takes ahold of his dick. Catching on, she places both of her hands on each of his shoulders and slowly lifts.

Only the tip of the condom is soaked, clinging to his skin tighter than the rest.

“Try again,” he tells her. 

This time, he’s the one to place himself at her entrance, but it’s at an angle. And when he pushes her back down, she glides with ease down what she’d already taken before.

That’s about when the easy part ends.

“Fuck, fuuck,” she trembles. 

Peering down between them, she’s got so much more left to take. And he only gets wider towards the base.

Ajani clenches his jaw, trying to keep his hips still. She’s got about three inches down, only a third of the way there.

Her pussy spasms around him, releasing small rivulets of moisture down his length.

“Fu—s-stop doing that.”

She doesn’t respond, only focused on trying to take him. A gentle push from him has her sinking down an inch further; almost halfway there.

“S’too big,” she cries, shaking her head. 

If he wasn’t so focused on not losing himself, he would have probably made a joke about that.

She lifts back up, leaving just the tip in. They feel like they can both breathe a little better. Pearlescent slick covers a little less than half of him, like he’d been dipped in vanilla glaze.

Fingers still pressing into his shoulders, Diamanté shifts on her knees before trying for a third time to take him. Still, she only makes it about as far as she’d gotten previously.

“This is taking too long,” she whines.

“I—shit … I might gotta way for you to do it.”

“Hurry.”

He releases himself to bring his hand between her legs.

“Wait—“

Once again, his thumb has found her clit. And he wastes no time rubbing and flicking. Her body ticks and her hips stutter.

“A-oh—“

As she clenches repeatedly around him, she gets another inch in. 

The nonstop attention to her clit has her body forgetting all about the thick length it’s split over, and focusing only on the pleasure she receives.

Her pussy keeps clenching and unclenching, and it gets sloppy—oozing all over his dick as it squeezes him.

“I … I think—“

Globs of thick, milky release seep out of her and down his length. As her pussy relaxes, her body slides with far more ease, pulling a moan out of her.

They’ve got just a handful of inches left, and Ajani believes it’s just enough for him to push the last few it.

So he does it.

And she damn near chokes out, spine straightening as a hand pushes at his chest.

“That’s it, you took it,” he whispers to her.

Her head falls to his shoulder as her body tries to adjust to being stretched so wide. 

And with every spasm of her walls, he can’t stop himself from twitching, setting off another chain of spasms.

She whines. The muscles in her thighs jump and her ass keeps clenching. Everything about her body is just so tight. 

And he needs to get her to loosen up before he releases into this condom.

“Relax,” he hushes her whimpers. “Just relax.”

He’s sure she can hear the strain in his voice. Nevertheless, he rakes his hands up and down her back, rubbing slowly.

“You good.”

Both have caress the expanse of her back, his touch only making her body react more. As his hands come back down, they reach all the way down to her ass. His fingers outstretch to cover the huge globes of fat.

She knows whatever’s she’s feeling won’t reside. He’s touching every spot in her. She’s sure he’s pressed right up against her cervix. And the curve in his dick definitely hits her G-spot dead on.

She can hardly breathe. The ache is so deep, she swears he’s in her stomach. 

There’s nowhere left for him to move. Pressed against her walls, she can feel the blood pumping throughout him even through the condom.

A harsh squeeze to her ass pulls a drawn out moan from her. She squeezes impossibly tighter.

“Shit, Dia’.” He squeezes his eyes shut as they almost roll back “Please, tell me I could move.”

He tries not to make the shivering in his arms so obvious, but he’s not sure how much longer he can withstand this.

“Please,” he swallows thickly. “Please.”

His heart beats wildly in his chest, she can feel it against hers.

“So f-fuckin’ deep,” he groans. “Gripping me … so tight,” his breath shudders.

He can barely keep his eyes open.

“Just wanna …”

His hips shift just a tiny bit, and they both can’t hold their moans.

“God—“ He hisses, feeling as though another wave of water just hit him. He’s drowning. He’s fucking drowning and he can’t save himself.

“Fuck—please.”

His hands push at her hips, barely dragging them. As the sensation has him bucking up into her.

She cries out, the sound only making him twitch.

“So good,” he licks his lips. 

Slowly, he rocks her against him, taking all the control, even as she whines out.

“Pussy so good … could die in this shit.”

“G-God—“ she claws at his back, but he doesn’t even feel it.

“Fuuuck, Mama” he drags out, using her body like a sleeve to fuck on.

She can only take it, feeling his dick abuse her G-spot and cervix. Hiccups wrack through her.

Ajani’s too gone to even stop. His head has fallen against the headboard, eyes rolled back as he’s balls deep in her.

He only presses her down impossibly harder, digging as deep as humanly possible.

She writhes in his lap, her stomach aching so good. Moans pour out of her. Her clit rubs nonstop over the dark curls at the base of his dick, giving her the perfect amount of friction paired with penetration.

They’re a creamy mess, her pussy sloshing and squishing around him. Together they churn thick, frothy white cream where their bodies meet.

“Hah … hhaah … auuh fuck,” he moans out, getting louder and louder. 

There’s no stopping himself. He’s completely gone off of her—pushing and pulling her faster and harder.

“Fuuck! FUUCK!”

“‘Ja—”

Her face clinches and she can’t even take a break as her pushes spews around the dick impaling her guts. 

Her squirt stream beats down on him, and yet it’s not enough to push the thick, heavy length out of her.

The repeated stimulation has her release lasting over a minute. His lap is covered in water, completely soaked, only making it easier for her to glide over him.

“Best pussy,” he pants, brain complete mush  as he continues.

She squeals out at the overstimulation.

“Best pussy … swear to God,” he cries out, voice scratching his throat. 

He doesn’t even realize that he’s cum into the condom, filling it up.

“‘Ja-ani,” she chokes out.

And finally, he begins to slow. The harsh spurts and gurgles her pussy makes are much more pronounced.

“Wanna … give so much,” he babbles, thoughtlessly. “Give you everything … all’a it.”

She thinks she just had another orgasm, she can’t even tell. But the slick, cream beneath her only grows in size.

The force he uses to push her lightens immensely until she’s no longer being moved. 

Her chest rises and falls as she gulps down air, him too. They’re immobile, but her cunt still clamps softly around him every now and then.

She swears his dick has made her go numb. Until she feels a twitch, and realizes—

“Y-you’re still hard?”

“Fuck,” he mumbles. “Y-you sure?”

She nods weakly, trying not to move a great deal. Her pussy feels swollen, pulsing around him—lips and all.

He taps her ass. “Up.”

Help is required as she slowly lifts off of him. The ache gets worse and she almost cries when he’s finally out.

He expected to see himself flop out of her, dick completely spent. But the sight of himself still painfully hard and standing at attention gets him.

Not only that, but the mess they’ve made; His lap is covered in her squirt and cream. Frothy white sheathes his entire length, all nine and a half inches completely drenched in her releases. He twitches.

She stares at it, almost unable to believe that was just in her.

“Fuck,” he sighs out, dragging a tired hand down his face.

Carefully, he gets out of bed to pad to the bathroom. She stares at the doorway, hearing him hiss and utter curses.

“D-did you finish?”

“I’on know!”

Diamanté sits, watching and waiting. She hopes he did. She doesn’t know how she’ll feel, knowing she couldn’t even make him finish. 

She knows it probably has nothing to do with her, but the fear is still there. She chews on her bottom lip.

“Fuck, I did!” he yells from the bathroom. “Yo, what the fuck!”

He doesn’t come back out until after a minute or two, cleaned off and condom-free. He holds himself down.

“We don’t gotta go again if you not feeling it. I feel like that was a lot for you, not tryna … wear you out.”

She only looks at his dick, noting how hard he is. “What about you?”

He kisses his teeth. “Don’t worry ‘bout it. Might just … go in the shower or something,” he points back to the bathroom.

He knows damn well beating his dick won’t do shit, but she doesn’t need to know that.

“Well …” she looks off to the side. “I don’t think I wanna stop.”

His brows raise. “You—you wanna go again?”

She nods.

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” she says softly.

God, it’s her fault. This is all her fault. She’s the reason why he’s this hard. That sexy, deviant-ass energy she tries to hide.

“Okay,” he says, breathlessly.

It’s hard for his brain to make connections, but soon he’s at his luggage, rifling through it like he did the first time when he was looking for a condom.

It’s supposed to be quick. Two minutes—at most. But two minutes turn to three. Three becomes four, and four to six.

He’s getting antsy.

“The fuck…?”

“What?”

“I can’t … yo—I can’t find it!”

“Find what?” She shifts, trying to peak and see.

“A rubber!”

He continues to search but comes up empty-handed.

“Fuck, I think I’m outta condoms.” He sucks his teeth, throwing down the balled up shirt in hands. “Fuck.”

A tiny pout befalls her lips as she watches him.

“Shit, I’m sorry, Mama.” He makes his wake back over to the bed, sitting at the edge, his head in his hands. “Think that’s it for the night.”

She looks down at the mess between her thighs. The faint pulse in her pussy is still there, and she knows it’s not going away any time soon.

“We … we can do it.”

He picks his head up to peer back at her with furrowed brows.

“Just pull out … if you want to.” She tries to do a little shrug.

It was a measly attempt at trying to come off as some small idea she’d just thought up on the spot.

But she can’t lie to him. Not like this.

He’s known her for too long to know that she doesn’t make decisions without some ounce of heavy overthought. 

His eyes squint. “If I want to pull out or if I wanna fuck raw?” 

She shrugs, resting her chin on her knees as she hugs her legs.

“You need’a stop doing this to me.”

She smiles, noting the playful warning.

“You on anything?”

“The shot.”

And that was all he needed to know.

He’s got her on her back, legs pulled up to her chest, the view of her ‘5☆’ tattoo between her thick ass thighs. 

Five star for sure.

Jewelry dangles from her ankles. And her pointed, square-acrylic toes curl cutely above her pussy. 

The shiny lips are puffy from the beating his dick gave her. And her clit is almost engorged.

She’s the perfect picture, staring up at him and spread open. If she wanted him to, he would put every part of her body in his mouth.

But that’s for another time.

He positions his tip at her entrance and immediately her pussy kisses his tip, her insides playing peek-a-boo with him. His braids hang in his face, too far away for her to pull on.

“Fat ma’ missed me?”

She whines softly, her toes curling up some.

Leaning down, he’s got one hand at the beside her head. “Yeah … I know she did.”

He drops his dick in her, driving the heavy weight through her tight warmth. Her mouth pulls open, eyes closing as she lets out a moan.

“Know she did,” he says through gritted teeth. “Look how she’s fucking taking me.”

Her cunt is stretched wide open, pulled around his girth. And watching it from this angle only makes him want to ruin her pussy further.

A harsh whimper and a hand pressed to his lower stomach stops him.

“Y-you’re on my spot,” her voice shakes.

He’s just a little more than halfway, and he’s still got more dick to give. Much more stretch, too.

“You could take it.”

The hand on his stomach retreats to hover over her pussy.

“O-oh God—”

He pulls out by just an inch before bullying his dick all the way in. 

She babbles out sounds that he can’t quite piece together. And he’s not sure what’s got her feeling so different this time, when he peers down and sees the faint outline of himself in her stomach.

“Awe shit,” he laughs. 

He delivers shallow strokes that make her writhe beneath him, just to see himself move inside of her.

Her mewls are so cute, and he loves hearing her react.

“I’m in your stomach?”

She nods, face clenched tight.

“Yeah?”

Just as she’s about to nod, she freezes as his strokes hit deeper and harder.

“Fuck … all in it … fuckin’ you so deep,” he mumbles, eyes right on her stomach.

Her body trembles. Every inch he pushes in, globs of honey spurt out as she creams around him.

“Pussy s-so good t’me—fuck.”

His dick twitches and he has to stop himself from releasing. She’s so much wetter, allowing him to glide with a bit more ease.

“Creamin’ all on my shit.”

His hands move to grip underneath her knees and push them all the way back to her ears.

A sharp squeal pushes out of her lungs as he slams all 9 1/2 inches in and out of her. Over and over, never letting up.

Her cream splashes back on him, making his lower half filthy. Every thrust has his heavy balls smacking against her ass.

“Fuuuck,” he groans, eyes rolling back. He buries his head in her neck, rolling his hips into her.

Her pussy bubbles and froths around him, being gagged by his dick. The smack of their bodies colliding is music to his ears, paired with her moans, only spurring him on more.

“So good … so good. Wanna give it t’you. Gi’ you everything … my f-fuckin’ kids—“

She hiccups, arms shivering as they’re thrown over his shoulders.

He presses sloppy, open-mouth kisses to her neck. The feeling makes her shudder.

“Lemme—“ he swallows. “Cum in this pussy.”

She whimpers. “Mm-yours!”

“S’mine?”

She cries out what is her best attempt at shouting ‘yes!’

“This pussy all mine, Mama?”

She nods eagerly. “Y-yes!”

Ajani releases one of her knees and pulls up enough just to grab her in the space between her jaw and neck. 

He drops a kiss on her lips, sucking on her bottom lip. His hand tightens around her neck as he plunges his tongue in her mouth.

He moves at a languid pace, dragging out each and every stroke. His hips press all the way in stopping only to move in circles against her.

Her lips slacken in the kiss and he’s in full control as she’s momentarily paralyzed by his dick, mixing her guts.

When he comes up for air, pulling out of her, too, he marvels at the sight between them. Solid white strings of her cum create webs connecting them. The farther he pulls away, the gooey ropes sink as they’re weighed down by gravity.

His dick and balls are covered in his frothy cream once again. But as he looks at her clenching pussy, it forces out thick globs of the matching substance onto the sheets. 

Staring at Diamanté feels like sucking on a honey pack, because he just can’t stop. He’s so hard for her.

Dick twitching, he grabs himself, running a tight fist along his length at he stares at her. He really only meant to do a couple of pulls. But as he stares at her, almost passed out, pussy gaping and weeping for him, he can’t seem to stop.

His hand just keeps going, and going, and going and—

“Fuuuck … aah … shit,” he hisses, shooting out thick ropes of cum right on her clit. 

It drips, mixing with her release. Some even dips in the cavern of her pussy, swallowed by the rhythmic contractions her body makes.

And he almost wishes that was the end of it, because it’s beginning to get ridiculous. But his dick barely softens in his hand.

“What the fuck,” he whispers, staring down at himself.

“You didn’t … cum inside.”

He looks up, seeing her low eyes staring back at him. She’s got a lazy hand between her legs, fingers caressing her sloppy pussy and mixing their cum together.

She pushes three fingers in, reaching quite far. He watches with curiosity, waiting for something—he doesn’t know what—to happen.

Then she plunges her fingers in yet again and a loud, wet pffft escapes from her pussy. A moan follows after. And finally, a new bout of cream pours from around her fingers.

And she just keeps going, whimpering like a wounded animal as she digs into her G-spot.

How he’s able to get any harder is beyond him. But he’s got to do something about this.

Grabbing her wrist softly, he pulls her fingers out. She whines, desperate to be filled.

“I’ma get you … relax.”

In just one night, she’s been reduced to a moaning mess, unable to even form full sentences.

He flips her on her stomach, bringing her hips up, her knees buried into the mattress.

Her ass is heavenly from this view. Spread hips and cheeks plump and bubbly. All of her stretch mark and cellulite has him wanting to cop a feel.

So he does. His hands spread over one cheek, rubbing circles into it. Only to lift a hand and drop it back down with a heavy smack.

She cries out, back arching. That’s all he wanted—bracing either sides of her waist with his hands, he presses most of his body weight down onto her, deepening her arch.

Keeping one hand in the middle of her back, he uses the other to line himself up with her. Then, he pushes in.

“Augh—shiiiiit!” She moans, pussy spasming.

He returns his other hand to her back as he drops his dick into her stomach.

The most pathetic sounds come out of her as she reaches back to push at his stomach. That doesn’t last long, as he’s grabbing her arms and twisting them behind her back.

“Want me to pull out?”

Her back expands and shrinks with every deep breath. But he hasn’t seen her nod her head yes (even as it’s buried in the sheets).

“Hm?”

She groans deeply into the comforter. Her pussy clenched tightly around him.

“That’s a ‘yes’?” He begins to pull out.

“No,” she sobs.

He smirks, before shoving back in. His thrusts keeps her quiet as he beats her walls down. Her body jerks harshly against the sheets, ass clapping back against him.

The recoil has him in a trance. And he’s losing his fucking mind over it. 

“Pussy huggin’ me … she don’t want me t-to leave.”

Hips make heavy smacks against cheeks, piercing their ears.

“Oh God … o-oh—GOD—“ Her stomach aches as her pussy convulses around him.

“Gonna put a baby in this shit … swear to God,” he moans, gripping her waist tight.

He props one leg up, foot to the mattress, to get more leverage. His braids dangle over his eyes, but that doesn’t stop him from digging in her shit. Almost like he’s angry.

“Been wanting you … s-so long,” he grunts.

With one last stroke, he punches his hips into her and keeps them pressed to her ass.

“Never wanna leave this shit … just wanna—stay in it.”

Labored breaths leave him as he bucks his hips into her, never pulling out. 

He stills, allowing either of them to really feel each other. Where they’re conjoined, cum drips from them onto the sheets below. It’s a sopping puddle.

Her legs are trembling so much, he almost laughs. Instead, he licks his lips. His hands move on their own accord, rubbing and spreading her cheeks.

Her little, puckered hole winks at him, untouched.

So he spits on it, loving the way her she twitches. He rubs his spit into the hole, threatening to push the tip of his thumb in.

“Please,” she whimpers. “C-can’t take it…”

“No thumb?”

She shakes her head into the sheets. He delivers another blow to her ass, making her whine out. 

“Aight, then. Ride yo dick.”

She whimpers, but he doesn’t accept that.

“C’mon. You a big girl, D’.”

His hands leave her body.

“Work for this nut.”

Her arms are sore, however, she braces herself by gripping onto the sheets. The muscles in her legs burn so bad, it’s a struggle to move her hips.

But she starts off slow, fucking him back. It doesn’t take her long to gain a good pace. 

Ajani feels a sadistic pleasure watching her fucking herself on his dick. The typical shy Diamanté, throwing it back on him.

“That’s right … work for it.”

Her quiet mewls dissolve into wails and sobs. The claps of her ass get harder and rougher. She’s squeezing him like a vice, pussy splishing around his dick.

“Fuck! S-so good,” she weeps. 

“It’s good?”

“Yyess!” She gasps for air as if her lungs are getting crushed. “Love this dick!”

“You love it, huh?” he laughs, breathlessly.

“M-mhm!”

“It’s yours.”

He grabs a hip, taking over once more.

“It’s yours baby.”

Leaning all his body weight on her, he pushes her deep into the mattress. A hand wraps around her neck as he delivers deep and hard strokes to her cervix.

“Take it,” he grunts in her ear. “Take this dick, baby.”

Tears streak her face as she claws at the sheets. He’s so deep, refusing to pull out even an inch as he keeps rolling into her. The whites of her eyes are all that’s visible.

His hips stutter and his balls tighten. “Fuck, ‘m ‘bout to cum,” his voice wavers.

The admitted words make her moan.

“Wanna finish in it—“

She clamps down on him tight, never wanting him to pull out. His breaths fan out against her neck, each out growing heavier than the last. As they reach the home stretch his hips slow, dragging out every thrust.

Every time he pushes in, her pussy talks back, weeping for him. It goes: Pfft … pfft … pfft. 

“A-auh fuuck—“

Ribbons of cum fill her tightness, painting her walls white. And the feeling is enough to trigger her release. 

Diamanté shakes beneath him as she erupts around his dick.

Even as she’s stuffed, filled to the brim, their cum it leaks out in thick lumps. He twitches, buried within her, still cumming.

“Shit, Dia’,” he groans into her neck, swirling his hips to ride out his orgasm.

She shivers, weakened by everything. 

“So good…”

Neither of them can tell how long their orgasms last. But they both know that they’re floating on Cloud-Nine. And after everything, it would be too easy to fall asleep right here, just like this. 

He won’t admit it aloud—that’s a bit too corny for him—but Ajani missed his people. The life of a working adult only gives but so much time for social gatherings. Especially with a whole friend-group.

Even then, it’s not like he hasn’t seen any of them since the party.

“I’on understand why you couldn’t just ride with me.”

“All my stuff is at my mom’s, ‘Jani.”

If he just closes his eyes, he can see the pout on her face. He glances at the screen, eyeing the contact name: Princxss Dia.

“Really? ‘Cause I almost tripped over your flat iron when I was getting in the shower.”

She groans out loud into the mic. “I knew I left it!”

He smiles, eyes now on the road as he makes a swift turn onto a busy street. 

“Fuck,” he mumbles upon seeing the traffic.

“But if I came with you … then they’d know.”

He kisses his teeth, face screwing up. “Man, I care less and less ‘bout that shit every day. I’m pretty sure they know—“

“‘Pretty sure’ is not a confirmation. And I wanna make sure the time is right when we tell them.”

He spots a parking space in front of the restaurant Boku had chosen for the night. No doubt, he’s going to snatch that shit up.

“Why shit gotta be ‘perfect?’” he asks, looking at his rear view camera as he backs into the space.

“I don’t know,” she mumbles. He can hear her moving around on the other side of the line. “I’m trying to … figure out a way to introduce it without … making everything weird,” she sighs out.

“How ‘bout, ‘hey guys, me and Ajani have been dating for a few months now,’” he mocks her voice.

“No.”

He sucks his teeth. “Why not?”

“That’s too blunt!”

“Exactly. What more is there to say? You wanna tell them the whole backstory? ‘Cause I’on really think they need to know that.”

“I’m not saying they do. I just think we need to … soften the approach.”

He puts his car in park before shutting it off, the engine dying down. “I’on know … what approach you talking ‘bout, but when you ready to stop hiding, you lemme know so I could book my appointment.”

“Appointment?”

“Oh, I didn’t tell you? I wanted to get your name tatted on my forehead.”

“ … Shut up.”

He laughs quietly to himself as he pulls down his sun visor. “You almost ready,” he asks, checking his appearance in the mirror.

It’s quiet for a couple of seconds. “No.”

His smile drops and he kisses his teeth. A second passes as he glares at the phone. Then, he picks it up. “Yo, answer my FaceTime.”

The mode of the call switches, bringing both of them into view on either’s screen. He licks his lips, getting a clear view of her pretty face as her phone is propped up against her vanity.

“Why you only got your makeup done?”

She frowns, setting powder decorating her face. “Because I did my hair first. It’s hair, makeup, then clothes.”

He only releases a sigh, unable to even be really upset.

“Aight, then hurry up. I told you we gonna have to work on that late shit.”

She smiles, reaching for a brush to dust off the powder. “Sorry, baby.”

He hums, eyeing her as he holds his phone closely. “You look good.”

She exchanges her brush for a lip pencil. “Thank you.” She tries not to smile too hard, careful not to mess up as she applies her liner.

“What you wearing?”

She blends out the harsh line of her dark brown liner with a finger. “A dress.”

He waits for her to explain further, but the explanation doesn’t come. “That’s it?”

“Mhm.” She quickly glances at the screen, looking away before she cracks a smile.

“Can I see it?”

“Nope.”

Now she’s smiling, a devious little one, too.

“Yeah, okay,” he scoffs. “You just make sure it’s no crazy ass shit. You know how Big Daddy gets.”

Her head jerks back as she looks at the screen, flabbergasted. “Don’t ever in your life … call yourself that again.”

“You just make sure you know,” he pushes before breaking into a smile, almost laughing. “But nah, forreal. That ass ain’t been getting smaller so … keep it cute.”

She rolls her eyes with pursed lips. “Shut up.”

He scoffs, looking out the window of his car. “Yeah … you think I’m joking.” He scoffs.

“Are you?”

He looks back at her, noting her nonchalance as she applies gloss over her lip combo.

“Play with me if you want to.” He licks his lips. His gaze falls to the exposed middle of her chest as her robe has slipped open. “I’on need niggas eyeing my shit.”

“Okay, Ajani.”

“Nah, it’s not Ajani,” he mocks her voice, earning a glare. “That’s Big Daddy to you—“

“I’m hanging up!”

She reaches forward, snatching up her phone.

“Don’t you wear nothing crazy!”

“Bye!”

The call ends abruptly, leaving him to shake his head. Not too long after pocketing his phone, he leaves the car. 

The only thing that’s on his mind being her.

Just before he enters the restaurant, he shoots her one last text.

Jani: lmk when u ready Ima call a uber

His face almost splits in half with how hard he smiles as he daps up his boys.

“Finally, nigga! We expected your ass to be here sooner,” Boku tells him.

“Chill, it was mad traffic,” he laughs. 

“Nah, facts. It’s mad people out tonight,” Mykel says.

The three are huddled close in the waiting area of the restaurant. All of the constant shifting to make way for entering and leaving patrons has pushed them to the corner.

“Forreal. Yo, why you pick this place?” Ajani looks to Boku. “I seen this shit blow up on TikTok.”

“Nigga, that’s where I got it from.”

All three dissolve into boisterous laughter, because Boku would be the one to make such a mistake.

Mykel shakes his head. “I’m already knowing the food and service ‘bout to be ass.”

“Nah, facts,” Ajani agrees.

“Aight, now. Not too much,” Boku chimes in. “‘Long as the drinks good, I could give less of a fuck about what they onion rings taste like.”

He and Mykel break off into a mini side conversation of their own, a usual occurrence between all three of them.

As they do so, Ajani pulls out his phone to check his notifications. Even though he doesn’t see one, he constantly refreshes the screen for a possible hidden text message that he just happened to miss.

None.

“‘Jani, you know where the girls at?”

Hesitantly, he looks up at the guys. “Nah,” he shakes his head, face blank. “Why would I know?” He makes a face.

“I’on know,” Mykel looks off to the side. “I thought Diamanté would’a told you something.”

“Why it gotta be Dia?”

“Nigga, don’t act dumb,” Boku butts in. “‘Cause y’all be talking.”

“I talk to Aleya and Sevyn, too.” When he laughs—the loud music masking its awkward tone—his eyes shift between his friends. 

“Not like you talk to Dia,” he scoffs. “That’s for damn sure.”

Sucking his teeth, Ajani wear a mask of confusion. “Nigga, shut up. You still on that shit—“

“‘Cause I know your ass still likes her!”

“Yo, I’m not even gonna lie,” Mykel starts. “I’ma have to side with Bo’ on this one. You might as well tell her at this point.”

His face contorts with annoyance. 

Nigga, shut up.

“That’s if he not already fucking her,” Boku laughs.

His brows pull together at Boku’s brash statement. “Yo, what?” 

Mykel rolls his lips inward, watching the two with caution. He questions, should he step in between this?

“Nah, I’m just saying! You’on gotta be embarrassed—”

“I ain’t embarrassed, nigga. There’s not shit to say, fuck I’ma be embarrassed for?”

Boku laughs, glancing at Mykel for backup. The other man remains quiet.

“Aight, then stand on it! Just say you fuckin’ her—“

Ajani doesn’t even realize that he takes a step forward. “Yo, shut the fuck up talking ‘bout her like that—“

“Alright, chill out now.” Mykel steps between them, placing a hand in front of Ajani to keep him back. 

Boku pulls his brows together. “Yo, wassup with you?”

“Ain’t shit up with nothing, you just make sure you keep shit respectful.” The scowl on his lips only deepens.

Boku raises his hands in defense. “My fault, bro. I wasn’t tryna offend—”

“Yeah, that’s ’cause you just open your mouth to say bullshit.” Ajani backs up the more Mykel pushes against him. “Like she not your fuckin’ friend, too, my nigga. What?”

“You good, bro. You good,” Mykel tells him. “Relax.”

“Just fuckin’ talkin’,” he rambles.

Before he can acknowledge the apology, his phone buzzes in his hand. Fully stepping away from them, Ajani checks his messages.

Princxss Dia: I’m ready

He wastes no time to order Diamanté’s Uber ride. 

With the distance between them and the Lou music playing overhead, it’s hard for him to hear. He knows Mykel and Boku are talking about him.

He refrains from even thinking much about it, though. Because just talking to Diamanté is putting him in a better mood.

Jani: its coming in 5 min

*screenshot of the Uber order*

Princxss Dia: tyy daddy🤗

Jani: 🙄

Princxss Dia: 💀

Jani: send me a picture

I wanna c u

Princxss Dia: it’s gonna ruin the surprise

Jani: surprise 

🤨

Princxss Dia: 💀

Jani: stop playing Dia

read

Thankfully, Aleya and Sevyn arrive not too long after. Their presences lighten the atmosphere considerably. 

Especially when Sevyn and Boku fall into conversation—a playful argument as usual about some dumb shit.

“Oh my God, I miss Dia’,” Aleya pouts. “Where is she?” She does a full-body turn, looking to Ajani.

Boku keeps quiet this time.

The question garners attention from the others within the group, who are now curious of his answer.

He kisses his teeth. “Why yall not asking her? Damn, what the fuck?”

Sevyn’s face screws up as her neck jerks back. “Nigga, calm the fuck down.”

“Right,” Aleya eyes him as her lips twist into an ugly scowl. “I just thought you’d know since y’all seem to be close.”

Sevyn hums in agreement. “Real close.”

Now, he’s making a face. “What that mea—“

“Hi guys!”

The much softer voice breaks the conversation, catching everyone’s attention. 

Walking towards them, Diamanté’s bright smile lights up the dimly lit space. 

Her straightened, black hair flows down her back. Being pulled back, it leaves her entire outfit exposed: a simple black Skims dress, flowing to her ankles.

The classy, white Hermes slides on her feet show off her white French toes. A small white crossbody purse ties the dress with the shoes.

Yeah, she’s cute and all—Ajani would never deny her that. But even underneath the restaurant’s dim, multicolored lighting, he can see every detail of her body “hiding” beneath the thin, ribbed fabric.

Down to her fucking belly piercing.

His eyes flick up to look into hers. He’s staring hard.

“Finally!” Aleya screams.

She runs to meet the short woman halfway, throwing her arms around her. Sevyn is right behind her, doing the same.

The women hug each other and their bodies sway like palm trees in the wind. Ajani’s happy for them—Diamanté, at least. It’s been so long since she’s seen them.

However, the happiness is short lived.

Others seem to be enjoying the women’s show happiness, too. Ajani looks over them, catching a small group of guys watching them.

What hint of a smile that was on his face shrinks immediately.

“I missed you guys,” Dia tells them as she pulls back, covering her mouth.

“We need to go out more,” Sevyn says. “‘Cause not seeing each other for this long is fucking ridiculous.”

“I know,” she pouts.

“Girl, you look so fucking good—” A sharp gasp slices through Aleya’s sentence. She reaches out to grab Dia’s arm, pulling her forward to peer down her back. “Girl, your ass!”

Looking too, Sevyn’s mouth drops in shock. “Damn, bitch!” 

Diamanté only laughs as she looks between her friends.

“It looks so fucking big,” Aleya says in awe. She looks over at Sevyn. “No, like deadass. Like it looks bigger.”

“How she get more ass and mine getting flatter?” Sevyn jokes.

“Drop the routine!” Aleya reaches behind Diamanté, grabbing a good handful of her ass. She sticks out her tongue.

Diamanté only laughs harder.

“Fuck a routine,” Sevyn declares. “Who you been fucking?” The interrogative expression on her face is intense.

“Oh my God,” she says, hand over her mouth as her smile only grows.

“It’s so heavy,” Aleya says in amazement, using both hands to lift her ass. Squeezing tightly, the dimpled skin can be seen through the fabric. “I can’t even hold it all, what the fuck!”

As the girls continue to laugh, Ajani only continues to watch the leering men. 

It takes everything in him not to go towards the women and tell them to stop.

Playfully, Diamanté rolls her eyes. “You guys are chatting.”

“No, girl. Your shit is mad fat, like what the fuck?”

“Okay, okay,” Diamanté says. “Can we sit now?”

Sevyn purses her lips, eyeing her friend. “Mhm. Look at you, you just so tea. Like you come up in here glowing, ass fatter, face card on 10, inches—you just showing out tonight!”

“Facts,” Aleya agrees.

Finally, they return to the other half of the group. Diamanté breaks away from her girls to greet the guys.

“Wassup, Dia,” Mykel gives her a side hug.

“Hey,” she sings.

She pulls away to give Boku the same embrace.

“Hey, Dia.”

“Hi, Boku,” she smiles.

Boku and Ajani make eye contact for a split second. Quickly, Boku looks away just before pulling back.

Ajani doesn’t get the chance to really mug that nigga how he wants to as Diamanté makes her way over to him.

“Hiii,” her voice is much softer.

She’s trying to fight back a smile, he can tell. But, it’s too cute as her teeth slowly come into full display.

The corners of his mouth lift uncontrollably. “Hey.”

Wordlessly, she steps into his embrace, resting her head on his chest. His arms circle around her waist, pulling her body closer.

“Why you ain’t text me when you got here?” 

His chest vibrates with each word. She can even hear the smile in his voice.

“I forgot.”

“Would’a came out and got you.”

She pulls away with a laugh, careful to keep their interaction brief enough so that they don’t get their friends started.

“Damn, Ajani. She wasn’t going nowhere.”

Clearly, that didn’t work.

His smile drops as his eyes flit over to Aleya, who wears a smug grin on her lips.

“Aight, now that all y’all niggas is here, I’ma see if we could check in for the table,” Boku announces.

He parts from the group to make his way to the hostess’ booth.

Conversation between the remaining five is quite mellow. Ajani finds himself standing back, only admiring Diamanté as she speaks.

Even when she’s quiet, he’s paying close attention to her body language and the way she reacts to things said.

“Let’s go,” Boku says as he rejoins the group.

“Thank you, God,” Aleya praises.

“Facts, these heels are killing my feet,” Sevyn complains as she starts after Boku.

As everyone else follows, heading towards the table, Ajani stays behind. Before Diamanté can catch up, he grabs ahold of her hand, stopping her in her tracks.

“Hol’on, ‘cause I didn’t get a proper ‘hello.’”

He pulls her body back in close, missing the feel of her against him. He almost sighs when her soft body presses against his.

Diamanté allows herself to smile as big as she wants to. She angles her head up for a kiss. The gentleman he is, Ajani meets her halfway and presses his lips against hers.

A small peck isn’t enough, as he finds himself going back in for a couple more. And as he does so, he doesn’t resist the urge to reach behind her and cop a feel of her ass himself.

His lips plant mini smooches from her cheek all the way down to her neck. She turns her head to the side, giving him more access.

“You look mad good,” he says into her skin.

His muffled voice tickles her skin, pulling a bubbly giggle out of her. “You told me that already.”

“Aight, and I’m telling you again.” Ajani pulls back just far enough to look her in the eyes. 

Damn, he really meant that shit. It’s almost unbelievable how bad she is. Sometimes he wonders how the fuck he was able to bag her.

“But I also told you not to come outside wearing no shit like this—“

She squeals as he lays a harsh smack to her ass, gripping the fat immediately after.

“Ajani!” She whisper-shouts, eyes wide with shock.

He only bites down on his bottom lip, eyes flitting past her to see the group of men from earlier still in the same spots. 

Except this time, they’re glaring. 

“Told you I ain’t want you showing off my shit like this.”

His other hand cradles her neck, squeezing just enough as he plants another smooch on her lips.

When he pulls back, he sees the inkling of a dazed look in her low eyes. Even from behind those big ass glasses.

“Okay,” she whines softly.

“Mmh.”

She begins to laugh, because she can definitely feel herself slipping into a mood.

“C’mon, before I fuck ya lil’ ass up out here.” His hands fall from her. “Got niggas looking at you all crazy.”

He holds his hand out for her to take. When she does, they make their way over to the table. 

However, before they get close enough, they place some distance between themselves.

Conversation at the table is all smiles and laughter over their platters and drinks.

Speaking of drinks, no one at the table is too good to pass up a bit of alcohol. Not even those who drove here.

“See this? This right here?” Sevyn taps an acrylic nail to the glass of her fruity drink. “I’ma need me some more’a that!”

“Mhm,” Aleya hums, sipping on hers through the straw.

Liquor seems to bring the conversation out of the friends. But, Ajani refrains from specifically addressing Boku. And Diamanté finds herself becoming more and more quiet.

Even with her besties around her, she can’t seem to make herself speak. What can she say, when all of her thoughts are filled with Ajani? Definitely not anything that should be said out-loud. 

At the very least, on a FaceTime call with just the girls.

Hiding behind her lemon drop, she watches him from across the table with low eyes. Every time he smiles, he does so just enough to give a peek at his grillz. 

Fuck, he looks so good. He smells even better. And the way he was choking her up out there, smacking her ass—

No lie, it made her wet. Her clit was thumping for sure. The liquor isn’t helping as it’s bringing up memories.

Like how just a couple of nights ago, she was staying over at his apartment. It was a time. 

Two shots of Don was all it took for her to end up on her tummy, getting dicked down.

He fucked her stupid that night. She almost wished she wasn’t on birth control. But that was just the liquor talking.

Her eyes flutter close as her thighs squeeze together. She has to take a deep breath.

“And Dia’s ass is already off the shits!”

A chorus of laughter sounds throughout the table, knocking her from her thoughts. As she looks around her, she offers a shy smile.

“Y’all some damn lightweights,” Sevyn continues to joke.

“I ain’t—look—I ain’t no fuckin’ lightweight,” Boku shouts, holding his glass up.

“Maaan,” Mykel gives him a look. “You better slow down, nigga.”

More laughter sounds. With the spotlight off of her, Diamanté’s thoughts circle back to Ajani.

And speaking of, he takes a sip of his alcohol to hide his smirk. He’s not oblivious, he could feel her staring this whole time.

Of course, it flatters him. If it’s one thing about Diamanté, it’s that she gets freaky off the liquor. And he can tell what’s running through her mind.

Because he’s thinking about the same thing. He’s just got to hold out for the rest of the night.

Leave it up to Boku to plan some weird ass shit. Who the fuck goes bowling after dinner and drinks?

Shit, at least the place serves drinks. And if Ajani was fucking with him right now, he’d commend him for at least picking a good spot.

The alley is surprisingly busy around this time, for it being almost eleven pm. It’s mostly dark in here, just like the damn restaurant.

Why doesn’t Boku ever pick places with good lighting?

“On my soul, I’m washing y’all niggas,” Aleya swears. She shoves a foot into the rented pair of shoes.

Mykel shakes his head, strapping up his pair. “Here she go.”

“Oh shit … I don’t got not socks, y’all.” The usual rasp in Sevyn’s voice is worse due to the drinks.

“Me neither,” Diamanté says, flipping her hair over her shoulder as she fans herself.

Not only is she just a bit horny, but she’s fucking hot. The only downside to drinking. She only hopes she doesn’t sweat her silk press out.

“There’s a booth that sells them,” Boku says.

“Honestly, I don’t think I’ma play. I’ll just watch y’all,” she smiles.

“Ugh! Boringgg,” Aleya groans, throwing her head back.

Sevyn looks to Diamanté. “Okay, well, you could come with me while I buy my socks?”

She nods, prompting her to stand up. 

“Can’t wait to wear them shoes. Fuck these heels, bro.” Sevyn holds on to her shoulder for support.

“Aye, if y’all get lost, call one’a us,” Ajani says. “It’s too many people in here tonight.”

“Sure thing, officer!” Sevyn scoffs.

Ajani gives her a scowl, and Dia gives him a short wave before the two of them are off.

“Damn, that’s a long ass line!” Sevyn scowls seeing the bodies fill the area.

“Oh my gosh,” Diamanté frowns.

“I do not wanna be standing on these fucking heels any longer!”

Kissing her teeth, she reluctantly joins the line, Dia in tow. As they wait, both women are scrolling through their phones trying to pass the time.

But it doesn’t take long for them to get to talking.

“If I ask you this question, you gonna be honest?”

Diamanté peers up from her screen to look at Sevyn. Her brows pull together in question. “Yeah?”

Sevyn eyes her for a moment. “You and Ajani fucking? Like—and be honest. Don’t lie to me girl, I hate that shit.”

A sigh leaves Diamanté. Clicking her phone off, she fully looks her friend in the eyes. “Yeah—“

“I knew it! I fucking knew iiit!” Sevyn jumps up and down on her supposedly aching feet. “Fuck! Since when?”

Trying to keep herself from smiling, she stays quiet.

A gasp. “It was after the party, wasn’t it?”

She nods, her smile growing.

They move up in the line.

“Bitch! I fucking—nah, ‘cause I checked your fucking lo’ and your ass was still there after we all left. Uh-uh, y’all so damn nasty.”

“Okay,” she rolls her eyes. “Don’t say anything about it. I’m still trying to … figure out a way to tell the others.” She frowns to herself.

Sevyn makes a face. “Girl, what you mean? Just drop the tea,” she laughs. “Shit, you could do it in the fucking chat. Matter fact, I don’t even think niggas really give a fuck. We all grown, Dia’. And it’s not like we all didn’t see it coming…”

“Shut up.” She rolls her eyes. “But, I just wanna tell ‘Leya at least, before I really … break the news.”

“Aight, I feel you.” Sevyn looks her over before breaking out into a dirty smile. “So he the reason your ass been getting fatter.”

“Oh my gosh.” She looks away from her, shaking her head.

“That’s fucking crazy. Who the fuck knew he was putting it down like that?”

Just before she can respond, her phone lights up with a message.

Jani: wya

U got lost ?

“Speak’a the fucking devil,” Sevyn says over her shoulder, spotting the message.

“Hush,” Dia laughs, typingout her response. 

“I like how he ain’t even ask about me. So it’s just fuck me, then.”

“What if the ‘y’ means y’all?”

Sevyn rolls her eyes before her face settles. “But, at least he’s crazy about you. That’s all I want for you.”

Diamanté looks up at her friend with a soft smile. “Thank you.”

“Mhm. I seen y’all at the restaurant.”

Her smile drops and her eyes widen just a bit. “Sevyn.”

“What?”

“If you saw why did you ask?”

She smirks. “I just wanted to see if you would lie.”

The shorter woman groans out.

“Yeah, ya lil’ ass is mad freaky, eewww.” She laughs obnoxiously. “Never thought I’d see you get choked up like that. Or him smacking ya shit—”

“Stop, please!” She hides her face in her hands.

“Oh, I just know he told you not to wear that shit,” she cackles. “You in trouble,” she sings. “That nigga had that crazy look in his eyes. Especially when he seen them niggas staring in the restaurant.”

“Are you serious?”

“Mhm,” she nods with crossed arms. “You just make sure you stay on his good side. Before I become an aunty too soon.”

Diamanté shoves her shoulder. “Don’t wish that on me.”

“Oh, bitch, I’m actually wishing that shit and more. You know I always wanted a little niece or nephew—even if ‘Jani’s annoying ass is the father.” She rolls her eyes.

“I rebuke kids,” she laughs. “Hell no.”

“Yeah, okay. If you say that, you better not tell me that y’all be fucking raw.”

Diamanté doesn’t say anything to that.

When the game commences, Diamanté is the only one to sit it out. And she’s having just as good a time as any.

Mykel had ordered wings for the group—lemon pepper and garlic Parmesan. Drinks, too, of course.

She nibbles on a couple of wings, courtesy of Ajani feeding them to her.

He’s had his fair share of extra drinks. And with each sip, he’s caring less and less about hiding shit from their friends.

Speaking of drinks, Dia’s been washing her food down with sips of water and gulps of fruity, alcoholic drinks. And she really should’ve stopped herself. 

Because now she’s got to go to the bathroom.

“Nah, I dead gotta go, too,” Sevyn says.

“I’ma come with y’all.” Aleya gets on her feet.

“Damn, y’all just gonna pause the game like that?” Mykel says, biting into a wing.

“We’ll be back!” Aleya declares.

The women make their way over to the bathrooms, which—unsurprisingly—has a line.

“Fuuuck! All these fucking lines!” Sevyn groans, stomping her foot.

“I know,” Dia says, shifting in her spot as she holds her lower stomach. “I gotta go … so bad,” she huffs.

“I bet you the men’s bathroom not even full like that.”

Sevyn scoffs. “I’m not going to no niggas’ bathroom at a bowling alley. ‘Bouta smell like funky dick and straight piss in there.”

Dia laughs.

“But, shit, since we here…” Sevyn turns to her. “Tell her.”

Aleya looks to Diamanté. 

“Oh, um … Ajani and I—“

“I fucking knew it!”

Sevyn throws her head back in laughter. 

“Y’all could not hide that shit!” Her eyes are wide as she points back at their lane. “When I seen that nigga feeding you them wings, it was certified!”

“Bitch, you don’t even wanna know what I saw,” Sevyn says, clinging to her.

As she and Diamanté catch her up on everything, they inch closer to the bathroom door.

Diamanté tells them about the most recent date they’d been on together. And while it’s an interesting story, Sevyn can’t help but to feel eyes on them.

She turns her head, to see a group of men looking their way. They make eye contact, as it appears that they’re pushing their friend to make a move.

“Oh fuck no.”

Aleya and Diamanté look at her.

“Y’all, is that them niggas from the restaurant?”

They look over at the men, one of them immediately making eye contact with Dia.

“Please don’t tell me they about to come over here,” Aleya scowls. “Ugh, I hate niggas!”

She says it loud enough for them to hear. And yet, one of them is still making their way over.

Sevyn kisses her teeth. “Bruh.”

The guy making his way over has his eyes dead set on Diamanté. His long locs are pulled back into barrel twists and a mature beard sits on the lower half of his face.

His dangling cross earring makes Sevyn scoff. “This corny ass nigga,” she mumbles.

“Wassup,” he greets, only looking at Diamanté.

Rude, she thinks. Her nose wrinkles as the smell of weed fills the space.

“Hello to you, too,” Aleya sasses.

“My bad,” he laughs. “I just wanted to come talk to you,” he nods over at Dia. 

“Okay,” she says quietly.

“You fine as shit, I’m not even gonna cap,” he smiles, showing a gold canine tooth. “Not on no creep-shit, but I seen you at The Palacades and,” he shrugs. “Don’t hurt to try, right?”

“Proceeds to be on some creep-shit,” Sevyn says.

“Right,” Aleya agrees.

The two share a laugh, causing the man to glance at them. He doesn’t let that deter him, though.

“You … saw me there?” Diamanté asks, her face creasing with confusion. 

“Yeah you and that guy.”

Now it’s Aleya’s turn to make a face.

“Hol’up,” Sevyn laughs, shaking her head. 

“Y’know, I just wanted to shoot my shot. Like, you never know. Y’all might not even be serious—“

“Well, they are. And you’re mad weird for asking.” She twists her face up. “What the fuck? Nigga is you cool?”

“Hold on,” he says, turning to Sevyn. “I don’t remember asking about you. So, I don’t know why you tryna get involved.” He’s getting visibly irritated.

“She don’t have to,” Aleya steps in. “If you seen my friend with her nigga, why are you harassing her?”

Worry makes itself evident on Dia’s face. She’s not sure where this conversation is going to go. And she definitely forgot her pepper gel at home.

“‘Cause that corny ass move that nigga tried to do wasn’t shit,” he laughs. “He think smacking ya ass was gonna scare somebody off? I don’t give a fuck about that shit,” he laughs. 

“Okay, no—“ Diamanté starts, but Sevyn is too quick to come to her defense.

“Get the fuck outta here, you weirdo ass nigga. She don’t want you!”

“She said that, though?”

“She ain’t say she wanted you neither,” Aleya says.

“Man, y’all bitches kill me.”

“Bitches?” They all say in unison.

“Yeah. It’s always the ugly ones talking the most shit—“

“Nigga you look like a fucking dog in the face yourself!” Aleya gets to pointing.

And as their voices climb, both sides growing more aggressive, Diamanté finds herself paralyzed with fear.

She is not sober enough for this.

Back at the lane, the guys keep themselves busy. Mykel cheats, taking the girl’s turns for them—and throwing horrendous gutter balls.

Meanwhile, Boku and Ajani are seated, munching on the leftover wings. Well, Ajani doesn’t eat as much as Boku, but he’s got a couple of bites in.

Neither of them address the other. And it’s … annoying. 

Although Ajani is still upset about what was said, it sucks that this is how their first time hanging out in a minute has to be like this.

But he’s not a pussy. And he’s damn sure not speaking first. 

A nudge to his shoulder brings him out of his phone. He looks up, seeing Boku stare at him.

“Yo, I’m sorry ‘bout earlier, bro. I should’ve never said that shit. I just be talking sometimes, you know that. And I be saying the wrong shit.”

“Mmh.”

“And Dia’s my friend. It’s not right’a me to be disrespecting her like that. If you want, shit, I’ll even apologize to her, too.”

Ajani watches him for a moment.

Their silence is broken by a shout from Mykel in the distance, cheering as he scores a strike.

“Nah … you ain’t gotta do that,” he finally says. “I respect the apology. But watch your mouth ‘bout her.”

Boku nods in understanding.

Silence falls over them again as the sounds of the alley machines, the music, people talking, and the arcade games fill the space.

Ajani almost feels himself dissociating again as his tipsy brain thinks. And one thing about him, is that his mouth runs.

Swallowing, he looks away from his friend. “Nah … you was right, though.”

Boku wears a questioning look on his face. “What you mean?”

It takes a second before Ajani finally looks at him. “We fucking with each other.”

He tries to conceal his excitement. But, he just can’t stop himself from dapping him up. 

“My nigga—uh, no disrespect, though.”

Ajani shakes his head, a ghost of a smile on his lips.

“Y’all better come play before I do your turns!”

“Nigga, fuck the game! Come over here, Jay got something to say!”

Reluctantly placing the ball back onto the rack, Mykel heads over to them.

“What you got to say?” He takes the last garlic Parmesan wing, earning a glare from Boku.

“Guess,” Boku says.

Mykel turns to Ajani, eyeing him. “You and Dia?”

He nods, earning another smile from their standing friend. “That’s what I’m talking ‘bout,” he laughs. “You asked her?”

“Yeah,” Ajani says, keeping it short. But his smile says everything, as he reminisces on that night.

“When y’all got together?” Boku asks.

He kisses his teeth, feeling the liquor in his system. “Uh … at the party.”

Both men stare at him with wide eyes. 

“Nigga—that’s almost six months!” Boku shouts.

“It’s no way y’all hid that shit for that long,” Mykel laughs.

“Wasn’t my idea,” Ajani says. “She over here, scared to say shit. But me—I’on give a fuck.” He scoffs. “I’a get her shit tatted, she keep fuckin’ with me,” he shakes his head, toying with the ends of a braid.

Boku and Mykel share a look, and a thought—this nigga is drunk.

Before either of them could voice it, however, Sevyn’s raspy ass voice enters their ears.

“Y’all hear that shit?” Mykel asks, twisting and turning to find the source of the voice.

“Why the fuck she yelling?” Boku asks, looking for her, too.

“How they still not back from the bathroom?”

It’s Ajani that spots her first—in a nigga’s face.

“Yo,” he says, sitting up, more alert than ever.

The guys notice, too. And it doesn’t take long for Ajani to get out of his seat. He’s the first to make it over there. And immediately he’s hit with the smell of weed.

“What’s going on?”

He immediately looks to Diamanté, who has discomfort written all over her face.

“Hell no, come get this nigga,” Aleya shout, pointing at the man.

Ajani watches him back up an inch as he raises his hands in defense. As he stares at the guy, he finds him just a tad bit familiar.

“What’s the issue?”

“It’s no issue, bro—“

“Clearly, it is!” Sevyn cuts in. “‘Cause you was throwing that ‘bitch’ word around a lot—“

“Look, I was just tryna get at your friend,” he says, pointing to Diamanté.

Ajani’s brows furrow as he looks between her and the guy.

“She don’t want you,” Aleya screams.

Then it clicks; This guy was apart of that group that caught themselves staring Diamanté down.

“Go back to your fuckin’ group,” Ajani says. “You a fuckin’ cornball,” he spits.

“Bum ass nigga—and he stink!” Aleya points at him.

“Man, get the fuck outta here, she don’t need no other nigga.” 

Ajani steps forward as he speaks, the other man stepping back.

“Aight, my fault—“

“It was. The fuck?” Sevyn says.

Finally, the man walks off, leaving the friends alone once more. The women seem to let out a sigh of release, and Diamanté seems to cling to Ajani’s side.

“That fucking weirdo. Shit just pissed me off I don’t even wanna pee no more.” Sevyn crosses her arms, her anger slow to dissipate.

“No, I’m still gonna use the bathroom,” Aleya scoffs.

“Me too.”

Diamanté’s quiet voice grabs their attentions, especially Ajani’s.

His brows furrow. “Nah, you could use the bathroom home.”

Her eyes widen. “What?”

“Yeah, fuck all this shit. We going.”

“Ajani—“

He shakes his head. “Nah, I’on give a fuck. That nigga got me fucked up.”

Aleya and Sevyn share a knowing look.

“Tell ‘em niggas we gone,” he says, taking up Diamanté’s hand.

Too tipsy to really object, she tells her friends ‘goodnight,’ promising to text them tomorrow.

Sevyn and Aleya’s farewells are drowned out by their quickly increasing distance and the overall loudness of the alley.

When they finally make it outside, the cool breeze of tonight hits her clammy skin. She squeezes his hand tighter.

“Fuckin’ bum ass nigga—I knew I seen him.”

She peers up at him, his eyes staring off into the distance as he speaks his thoughts.

“Should’a fucked him up, if I’m being honest.”

When they reach his car, Ajani opens the passenger door for her. She climbs inside, relieved to be off her feet.

But before he closes the door, he bends down to look her in the eyes.

“You good?”

She nods. “Yeah.”

“He didn’t touch you or nothing?”

“No, Ajani. I’m good.” 

With a nod, he shuts the car door and walks over to his side before sliding behind the wheel.

The drive to his apartment is quiet for the first few minutes. Even his music plays low over the speakers.

She watches his side profile, noting the lowness of his eyes and the way his shoulders sag.

“I’m sorry.”

His eyes don’t leave the road, but his brows furrow. “For what?”

She only shrugs, the small action enough to garner his attention for just a second.

“You ain’t do shit. That nigga was just a creep.”

“Yeah,” she exhales. 

“Shit, but I definitely shouldn’t be driving right now.” He drags a hand down his face. “Just tryna get in my fuckin’ bed.”

Licking her lips, Diamanté busies her hands by toying with her phone. “Are you really tired?”

He gives her a quick side eye as a lazy smile presents on his face.

“Depends … what you tryna do?”

She looks forward at the nearly empty road ahead of them. Then she shrugs.

“Yeah, I seen the way you was looking at me back at the restaurant... Lil’ freaky ass.”

She laughs just a bit. “It’s been a couple days … what do you expect?”

He scoffs, leaning back in his seat as he leaves one hand on the wheel. “You really sumn else,” he says low, rubbing his chin.

Chewing on her lower lip, she stares at him as a thought brews in her head. Her silence cause him to look her way.

“What you thinkin’ ‘bout over there?”

She releases her bottom lip. Her eyes drop to his lap.

“Can I touch it?”

He huffs out a laugh, shaking his head. “Could do whatever you want … it’s yours.”

With caution, she slowly reaches over the console and spreads her hand over his lap. She traces the barely-hard length through his jeans.

He retains his composure even as he struggles to focus on driving properly.

“You smelled so good today,” she whispers.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” she breathes out. “So fucking good. She laughs softly, pulling a smile out of him.

The more she rubs up on him, the harder he gets. She licks her lips and reaches over with the other hand to unbutton his jeans and zip them down.

She slips a hand between the layer of his jeans and his boxers, feeling him up through the thin fabric.

“When we was at the restaurant, I was thinking of last weekend, when I stayed over.”

Cradling the underside of his dick, her thumb swipes over his fat tip. Excitement races through her as she feels every curve of the mushroom-shaped head.

A faint twitch makes her smile bigger.

“How you was fucking me.”

Her voice slightly lifts at the end of her sentence, as if the thought alone was enough to get her going.

He found that shit so sexy.

Her thumb continues to rub circles into him. However, she also begins to squeeze him in her palm.

Ajani shifts in his seat, his legs widening on their own.

“Fuck, you were so deep, baby.”

She’s squeezing him harder, her little hand working his tip.

“So fucking deep—“

He barely hears the tiny moan that slips out. It takes his attention off of the road for a couple of seconds.

Just long enough for him to catch her with her other hand now between her own legs, dress hiked up around her waist.

He quickly looks away. The sight sends another rush of blood to his dick, and she can feel it as he pulses in her hand.

As one of her hands feels along his length, the other presses against the seat of her damp panties. The pressure pulls a shiver out of her.

“Oh, shit,” she gasps, quietly. “Fuck, I still have to pee.” Her thighs clamp around her wrist as she remembers her plight.

He glances at her again, trying to fight the melting of his brain as she continues to get him off.

“Keep going.”

His raspy voice catches her off guard.

“W-what?”

He licks his lips and swallows, taking a turn onto a major roadway. “Keep touching yourself.”

“I still have to pe—“

“Hold it.”

Her silence earns another look her way.

“I mean it, too. Just got this shit detailed … so don’t fuck up my seats.”

The gentleness of his voice makes her clench.

His head almost falls back when a tight pressure surrounds his balls. It’s hard to keep his eyes open.

Kicking off her sandal, Diamanté pulls a leg up onto the seat. Her French-tipped toes dig into the shiny, smooth leather as she opens herself up wider.

She rubs herself through her thin panties with a full hand. As she falls into a rhythm, both of her hands sync together as she pleasures both herself and Ajani.

Her legs open up even wider as she changes from using her full hand to just her middle and ring fingers. 

Pushed together, she rubs slow, sloppy circles over her clit. The swollen bud pulses, pushing through her thick folds and even creating a small bump through the thin material.

Her wrist aches, but she doesn’t stop. Her pussy clenched repeatedly and her breathing grows unsteady.

Slow, lazy blinks come before her eyes roll back closed. She whimpers to herself.

Ajani tries not to swerve as his brain tries to focus on two things at once. But, he can’t stop his hips from fucking into her hand—even if just a little bit.

Diamanté sends three, solid smacks to her pussy. Upon the third one, her thigh snap shut and her eyes squeeze closed. Her mouth hangs open as her body freezes.

Before she can stop it, her body lets loose for a split second. Just a tiny stream lets out, creating a small soak-spot into her underwear. Immediately, she regains control, stopping her release.

The pace she’d been able to keep up falters as she grows weak from her own hand.

“Keep going,” he tells her.

She shakes her head first. “I … I can’t.”

“Dia—“

“I can’t, I can’t—“

“Move ya hand.” 

He pries her thighs open with his free hand, and snatches hers from between them. 

He replaces her with his touch, cupping the fat mound before sliding his fingers against her. He feels the small wet spot, and it makes his dick harder.

“Told you to hold it.” He lays a smack down on her clit, and her legs try to close around his arm.

A louder moan leaves her this time. But, she holds it as best as she can.

“And keep squeezing my shit,” he says, his voice deep and heavy with lust.

Mewling, she gives her focus to his dick. Rubbing and squeezing it. And when that’s no longer enough, she pulls him out of his boxers.

“Shit…” he exhales in relief.

The hot, length stands stiff in both of her hands. Dribbles of precum run down his length. She’s quick to swipe it up as she twists both hands over him, pulling at the veiny skin.

“Mmh … fuck, baby. J-just like that.”

Ajani doesn’t let that distract him, however. Hand between her legs, he rubs his middle finger over her protruding clit.

She almost cries out as he neglects to touch her, keeping her underwear between them. 

His pointer finger drops down to join the middle. And he pinches her bud. She yelps out.

“Hold it,” he says, pinching harder. “Hold it.”

Her head falls back as she cries out. The dam is about the break, she can feel it. 

Her body goes numb for half a second, and then she feel the wet spot spread just a tiny bit bigger.

“I’m cumming, I’m cumming—“

He cups her once more, feeling her clench down on nothing in his hand. The pink G-string clings to her lips, conforming to their shape.

Her hands freeze around his dick, unable to focus on him as she tries to keep herself from finishing completely over his seats.

“We almost there … almost there,” he soothes, turning into his building’s parking lot.

After regaining her composure, Dia tucks him back in his pants and zips him back up.

Ajani removes his hand as he parks in his designated spot, giving her the chance to fix herself.

When they get out the car, it’s a bit of relief. However, Ajani still has to make it to his apartment without being caught with this boner.

Watching Dia walk ahead of him to get into the main building, he gets an idea.

It’s hard to concentrate as they stand there waiting for the elevator. There’s no one in the lobby, but that doesn’t make her any less nervous.

Standing, her backside pressed to his front, she feels his dick poking at her. 

Ajani’s so hard, it almost aches. He kisses his teeth, and his hand on her hip squeezes harder.

“Where this fuckin’ elevator at? Not tryna be waiting here all night.”

As he talks, his hips move just a bit, pushing his dick harder into the fat of her ass. It’s not helping, honestly.

But, much to her relief, the elevator finally arrives with a sharp ding. They walk in and Ajani is quick to press the button to the eleventh floor.

It seems like time slows as the shaft achingly climbs the floors. Dia doesn’t get to watch the numbers change as a hand comes around her neck and squeezes—her eyes flutter shut.

“Can’t wait to ruin yo shit,” he whispers in her ear. “Have you bouncing on my dick.”

She moans softly as his hand tightens.

He sucks his teeth. “Matter fact—“

It must be the liquor that has him doing this, and what’s got her letting it happen.

In one second, she’s bent over, her hands bracing the wall before her as he stands behind.

“Should just fuck ya lil’ ass in here.”

He smacks her left cheek before rutting into her. He spreads her ass with both hands, rubbing his clothed dick into her core.

“O-oh fuck,” she whimpers. The friction has her legs trembling.

“Keep fuckin’ moaning,” he pants, fucking against her. His eyes almost roll back and his balls tighten in his pants.

“Baby—“

Slapping a hand over her mouth, she tries to keep quiet … and from cumming.

Backing up just an inch, he instead holds her by her waist and bounces her hard against him. She almost wails, her pussy craving to be filled.

But her torture ends soon as the elevator dings again, announcing their arrival to the eleventh floor. They waste no time getting out and making their way to his front door. 

When they come to it, he hands her his keys as he remains behind her. She almost fumbles them, her hands shaking.

He grabs onto her hips again, gripping tightly.

“Hurry up … you’on feel that?”

The gravel of his voice makes her shiver, and the way his dick is pressed into her ass almost makes her eyes roll back.

His face drops into the crook of her neck and shoulder to press a kiss into her warm skin.

“He missed you, baby.”

The slight slur in his voice drives her crazy. But, not more than the way he presses his hips harder against her.

Click, the door goes as she finally unlocks it. The rush of air that hits them as she pushes it open is refreshing. It clears her senses for just half-a-second before her brain is plunged back into a hot pool of lust.

Ajani’s got his hands on her, spinning her around to press a wet kiss onto her lips. A heavy moan slips out of her as he squeezes her throat.

He sucks on her tongue like it’s his only lifeline, enjoying the taste of her spit too much.

His free hand encircles her waist and heads down to grip as much fat as it could.

The burn of his grip has her clenching in her panties. He pulls out of the kiss just to look her in the eyes.

“Take this stupid ass dress off before I rip it.”

His grip on her throat tightens and she feels herself go dumb a little bit. She nods.

He lets go of her completely, just to watch her pull the black dress over her head. 

All she’s got on is that tiny ass, pink G-string, no bra. The fabric is drenched with a wet stain as it clings to her. And her lips are damn near spilling out of it.

“Not even gonna be able to walk when I done with you,” he mumbles, staring at her as he squeezes his dick through his pants.

“Wait, I wanna do something else first.”

Diamanté’s gaze drops to the hard outline of his dick—so thick and long.

“Yeah?” He looks at her with low eyes, paying keen attention to the outline of her fat pussy. “What you tryna do?”

She starts towards him, walking slow. 

“I wanna suck it.”

His brows lift as an inkling of a smile is on his lips. “Oh, word?”

“Yeah.”

She stops right before him. A gentle push to his chest sends a big enough of message—he falls back onto his couch. And his eyes follow her as she gets down on her knees before him.

She crawls to him, sitting between his legs. Even pushes them apart wider. He almost shivers at her delicate touch on his knees.  

“Would you let me?”

She blinks up at him as her hands snake their way up his thighs and into his lap. He slips further down into the couch, biting his lip as he watches her undo his pants for the second time tonight.

She gets a peek of those grills again, and she just finds them so sexy.

“Awe shit, baby, you could do whatever you want…”

His aid comes as he lifts his hips as she drags the heavy denim down his legs. Drunken giggles pour out from her lips as she eyes his print through his boxers.

Even through the thin fabric, the familiar heat of her palm makes his dick twitch. He has to stop himself from humping into her hand as she grips along his length.

Her laughter melts away as she watches his face with a luring smile. 

“You’re so wet, baby.”

He almost doesn’t even hear her soft voice. But when he does, he looks down and notices the dark spot on his boxers.

“Shit … that’s all you,” he mumbles. His eyes bore into her as she pulls him out of his underwear.

He’s stiff and heavy in her hand. Her smaller fingers squeeze him just a bit tighter, a weak attempt at trying to get a better grip on him. 

It amuses him, seeing how the tips of her fingers don’t even meet when they’re around him.

The warmth blossoming under his skin goads her to run a fist over his length.

“You know how to do it?” he asks her.

She nods before looking back up at him. Looking into his eyes, she can tell that he’s fighting to stay present.

But with the liquor in both their systems, and lust running through their bodies, she can understand how difficult that must be for him.

“You don’t gotta … take it all,” he swallows.

His thigh twitches; Her tongue laves against the underside of the warm, soft tip. She holds him as she circles her tongue around the head, shining it with her spit. 

“Fuck,” he hisses softly, body melting into the couch cushions.

She brushes her tongue against him, picking up a perfect bead of precum just as it dribbles out.

He inhales, shifting in the seat. “Spit on my shit.”

Puckering her lips, she spits it back out on his tip and spreads it across his skin.

“Yeah,” he breathes out.

Holding him at the base, she takes his head back into her mouth. His stomach swoops and his breath stutters. 

Diamanté almost giggles, feeling his tip pulse in her mouth. She pulls off of him with a pop. 

She repeats the action a couple of more times, going pop … pop … pop! She enjoys too much how he groans above her.

“Stop playing, baby, c’mon.”

The sound of him begging makes her clit pulse. 

“Okay, okay,” she says softly, batting her lashes up at him.

Taking a deep inhale, she places her mouth back over the head. Slackening her jaw, she slowly descends his length.

“Awe … shiii,” he stares down at her in shock.

Already, her jaw aches, having to accommodate his size. She gets about halfway.

“Mmmh.”

The vibration of her hums make his toes curl. He jumps with a hiss. The movement gags her, and the sound only arouses him.

“T-take your time, baby—“ he grunts. “You don’t gotta—“

He chokes on his own words as he watches her continue to swallow him with a bit of effort. The sight has him clutching the couch cushions.

Her throat constricts around his dick as she bottoms out. She nuzzles her nose against the small bush of dark curls at his base.

“Fuck,” he mumbles, shifting his hips a bit.

Her eyes flutter close as she relishes the heavy weight her throat holds. His dick twitches, pulling a soft gag out of her.

He loves the sound.

Spit seeps from her mouth, dripping down his length. Trying to swallow around him is difficult.

Carefully, she lays her head against his open lap. She exhales through her nose, trying to relax as she suckles on him.

It’s almost addicting, having his dick stuff her mouth to the brim. She’s content … until she remembers her own arousal.

Her knees burn, but nevermind that. She brings a hand between her thick thighs, whimpering as she caresses herself.

The pads of her fingers slide back and forth over the soaked scrap of fabric covering her pussy.

Her thighs clench around her wrist. But still, she continues, sliding the tips of her acrylic nails against her aching pearl.

He watches her eyes open for just a second, only to showcase how they roll back. Her shoulders twitch.

“You touchin’ yourself?”

She barely nods as another twitch rakes throughout her body.

The already wet patch of her panties grows warmer as she leaks more arousal. Her fingers rub harder and her pussy spasms.

“Mmh—“

She whines around his dick, and his hips stutter.

“So fuckin’ nasty,” he groans. “Like my dick in your mouth.”

Another whimper.

Peeling a hand from the armrest of the couch, Ajani reaches for her straightened hair and gathers it in a tight ponytail.

“Relax your throat,” is his only warning.

Long, slow strokes have her gagging on him. The back or her throat makes wet clicks as his dick fucks the back of her throat.

Tears bubble in Diamanté’s eyes as her head bobs. Shaky fingers push her soaked panties to the side as she rubs through her sticky, creamy folds.

“Look so fuckin’ good like this,” he says through gritted teeth. 

She plays in her mess, webs of cream sticking to the pads of her fingers and her pink clit.

His hold around her hair tightens and his pace quickens. Her gags become harsher and louder as he face-fucks her.

A squeal sounds at the back of her throat as she DJs herself quickly. Her chest stutters as it gets harder to breathe with her choking on him. 

Her body tightens then releases; She sprays against her fingers and the hardwood floor. The hard stream catches his ears, making him sit up to watch.

The whites of her eyes are the only things that show as she cups herself between her legs.

A gooey mess of her spit and his precum drip down his balls and even her face, droplets falling on her bare chest.

“Shit, baby … awe shit,” he groans, head thrown back and mouth dropped open.

His stomach clenches as his brows pull together.

“I’m bout’a … c-cum—fuck.”

He pushes her head all the way down, holding her there as he fucks up into her. She tightens her throat around him, sending him over the edge.

Ropes of cum shoot down her throat, sending her pulling off of him in a coughing fit. 

When she calms, she pulls her hand from between her shaking thighs. It’s messy with the remnants of her cream and squirt.

She wraps it around him and spits his cum back on his dick.

It’s a bubbly, frothy mess. She jerks him off, milking him for the rest of his release as she mixes their cum and her spit together.

“So fuckin’ dirty,” he rasps, his body sagging against the chair.

The squelches of her fist over his dick is music to their ears. Her hand glides with ease as she squeezes him tighter.

“Beatin’ my shit so good.”

Breathy laughter pours out of her as she sticks out her tongue and flattens it. Staring into his low eyes, she taps his dick against the bed of her tongue.

She slides the pink muscle against him before flicking it twice against his leaky slit. He shivers beneath her, and she feeds off the reaction.

Taking his head back into her mouth, she sucks on it with her lips as she digs out his slit with her tongue.

He’s a whining mess as she overstimulates him.

“Fuck baby … fuuuck baby—fuck babyy—“

Ajani’s head falls back against the cushions and his eyes roll back. He opens his mouth to cry out:

“F-fuuuuuck—“

Lifting from him quickly, she taps him against her tongue as he erupts. His cum paints the pink muscle in white ropes.

“So good,” she hums, still tugging at him.

His chest heaves as he tries to catch his breath and calm his beating heart. His ears ring and his vision’s got dots.

It takes him too long to return back to earth, as if she had hard reset him. 

“Fuck.” You could hear his voice echo in your small apartment; he sounded tired, like he’d been working out for a while.

Your door creaked as he was shutting it, and you could hear his sneakers shuffle off. His quiet footsteps came closer to your room.

You placed your phone on your bed and lifted your head just as he entered the room.

“Why you still up?” He almost got scared when he saw you staring straight at him.

“Why you in my apartment in the middle of the night?” He rolled his eyes at your sass and pulled his hoodie over his head.

He ambled toward you, and just as he was about to crawl over you, you placed your foot on his hip, stopping him in his tracks.

“What—” He cut himself off when he felt your manicured feet tug at the ends of his shirt, your toes curling around the hem, and you pulled up his shirt, showing the gun tucked in his waistband.

“My bad, baby.” He raised his hands in pretend defense before removing the gun and sliding it into a drawer in your dresser.

As he walked back toward you, he unbuckled his belt and tossed it on the ground.

“Nope.” You pressed your foot against his solid chest, holding him back.

“Da’ hell you mean ‘no’?” He scrunched his nose, his hands still reaching for you.

“No, you can't have me tonight.”

“And why da’ hell not?” He didn't like that answer, not one bit. If there was one thing he searched for after long days of work, it was you and your body.

“I don't think you’ve earned me or deserve me.” A smug smirk filled your face. You watched the man groan and toss his head back in frustration, nothing but pleasure flowing through you from the sight.

“Ma, not tonight. Do this shit another time. I don't want to be part of whatever TikTok shit you saw. Just let me have you.” He leaned forward, hands reaching for your waist, only to be pushed back with a kick to the chest.

“You're not helping yourself, sir.” You tilted your head slightly with a raised brow.

“What you want me to do?” He exclaimed, giving in to your “shit.”

“Beg.”

“Beg?” He repeated.

“Beg, need a hearing aid, darlin’?” You teased him, taking advantage of your power.

“I ain't begging, you mine—da’ fuck I'm begging fo’?” He huffed and snarled in disgust at the mere thought.

“This is the problem—you think you can just leave and come back, then have me however you want. Not this time, buddy. You beg for what you want.” He hated the look on your face; it ticked him off. He knew you had the power, and damn, he wanted you badly.

“If I possibly beg, I get to fuck you?” He turned his head back toward you, his eyebrow twitching up as he asked.

“Beggars can't be choosers. We'll see what I let you do.” You lifted your eyebrows and watched his shoulder relax as his body turned toward you.

The tall man lowered himself to his knees and rested his warm palms on yours. He bent forward and kissed up your thigh, grumbling into your skin.

“I'm sorry baby, can I please have you?”

“May I please?”

“I'll be so grateful, I'll make you feel so good.”

“I missed you so badly. I need you.”

You couldn't tell if he was faking; he sounded so desperate. His voice was raspy with longing, his nails digging into your knees as his small kisses grew stronger and hungrier.

He was good at it. You didn't know how, but he was. He already had your panties soaked by the second sentence.

“I guess I'll let you have a little something.”

His eyes lifted at your words.

His head was drowned in the depths of your drenched pussy, his tongue lapped up your cloying juices like a hungry dog and his hands were clenching your thighs in his hands.

“Quit movin’.” He grumbled, the pads of his rough finger pressing deeper into your thigh and holding you tighter in place.

His tongue darted past your folds and into your hole, his slick tongue dragging over the walls of your pussy. His nose nudged your cilt, making your hand involuntarily dart to squeeze his hand. You heard a low chuckle come from him, the vibrations of his vocals sending pulsations through your pussy, your cilt twitch, and your walls began to drastically search for something to squeeze.

“O-Ony, baby! Slow down!” You squealed, your hips jumped against your will and your back formed a nasty arch because of the pleasure consuming your mind.

Your eyes rolled back farther than what you thought was possible, your nails clawed at his hand, and your moans were growing so loud that someone had to hear you.

Your hips initiated a rhythm, rolling against his face and fighting to match the pace of his quick and hungry tongue deep inside of your walls. His tongue curled upwards, stroking your mushy inside with the pad of his tongue.

You could feel juices pour from you and down onto the bed, his hungry eating made pulse flow from cilt to neck, and your body tensed the closer you got.

The louder you got, and the more juices he gained access to, the harder he got, his length was pressing against his jeans leaking pre, twitching, and begging to be in your tight barriers.

“Holy—Ony, I'm gonna—fuuuck!” You yelped. You were gushing all over his face, hips lifted off the bed and spasming, hands clutching the sheets beside you, and toes scrunched.

It didn't stop him, he kept his tongue out, slurping up all the juices spraying out of you he could.

When you finished, your hips dropped back onto the bed, and you were a panting mess. He lifted his wet face from in between your thighs a stupid handsome grin on his face.

“Wonder if you’ll squirt like tha’ on my dick.” But after that comment, he dove back in.

That time a slow make-out with your hyper-sensitive pussy. His lips dragged over your fat, swollen lips, and his tongue sucked up all the remaining juices he could.

His tongue caressed your folds and trailed his saliva over you, it was a slow and gentle movement compared to what he was doing before.

His lips moved and puckered around your pulsing cilt and established a rhythmic suck, it was just right. It made hums of pleasure pour from your lips, he sucked your dark pink cilt like a kid with a lollipop who also didn't want it to be gone too fast. He teased it with the tip of his tongue just to get a small yell out of you to fill his satisfaction.

Your thighs were still shaking and your hips pumped every other minute but it began to calm and you also realized that he was engulfing you like he had no intention of stopping any time soon.

You were going to be there for a while.

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Arts Of Heaven Sections Of Heaven

“Smells good, don’t it?” he called over his shoulder, grinning. “Bet you never had a nigga cook for you like this, huh?”

Raven sat at the table, oversized t-shirt slipping off one shoulder, her legs tucked up in the chair. She sipped her orange juice, smirking. “You act like crackin’ eggs makes you husband material.”

Stack turned, spatula raised like a mic. “Correction—this makes me husband material.” He pointed at his chest, then at the skillet, grinning wide. “This dick and this skillet. Deadly combo, baby.”

Raven laughed so hard she covered her face. “You are ridiculous.”

Footsteps padded into the kitchen, slow and heavy. Smoke leaned against the doorframe, low-cut hair sharp against the morning light, beard rougher, uneven but clean. He wore sweats and a black tee, the picture of unbothered. His eyes scanned the scene before landing on Raven.

“Don’t hype him up, Rae,” he said, voice low, smooth, edged with gravel. “Nigga burn water last week.”

Stack whipped around, spatula pointing like a weapon. “Man, shut yo’ hatin’ ass up. She eatin’ my food this morning, not yours.”

Smoke smirked, pulling a bottle of water from the fridge, twisting the cap slow. “We gon’ see if she actually eat it, or just spit it in a napkin when you ain’t lookin’.”

Raven nearly choked on her juice, giggling. “Y’all are too much.”

Stack rolled his eyes, plating eggs, bacon, and toast before sliding it in front of her. “Five-star breakfast, made with love. Don’t let this jealous nigga sway you.”

Smoke sat across from her, forearms braced on the table, gaze steady as she picked up the fork. His voice dropped, smooth and teasing. “Careful. One bite and he gon’ think he own you.”

Raven chewed slow, eyes flicking between them, feeling their stares burn into her. Stack leaned against the counter, arms crossed, waiting on her verdict like it meant everything.

When she swallowed, she dragged her tongue over her bottom lip just to watch them both react.

“It’s good,” she said finally, innocent tone, mischievous smirk.

Stack slapped the counter, triumphant. “Ha! What I tell you, nigga?”

Smoke’s jaw ticked, his smirk tight, but his eyes never left Raven’s mouth. “She bein’ polite. Don’t gas yourself.”

Raven set the fork down, leaning back slow, eyes soft but daring. “Mm, I think I’m gonna need somethin’ sweeter than eggs if you really wanna impress me.”

The kitchen went still for a beat—Stack’s smirk curling filthy, Smoke’s stare sharpening like heat through glass.

Playful still, but thicker now.

Stack leaned back against the counter, arms folded across his chest, that crisp beard catching the light when he smirked at Raven. “You heard her. She said she want somethin’ sweeter.”

Raven licked the corner of her mouth slow, eyes flicking up at him. “Mm-hmm. And you gon’ do what about it?”

Before Stack could answer, Smoke’s gravel voice cut in, calm and edged with heat. “Ain’t nothin’ sweet ‘bout him. Nigga salty as hell.” He twisted the cap back on his water, leaned forward on the table, forearms flexing. “If she want sweet, she know who to ask.”

Stack scoffed, waving the spatula. “Nigga, please. She been smilin’ at me all mornin’. Don’t get mad ‘cause you ain’t the reason.”

Raven giggled behind her hand, watching the spatula wag between them like a weapon.

“Smilin’ at you?” Smoke’s brow arched, beard shadowing his grin. “Man, she laughin’ at you. Difference.”

Raven choked on her juice, sputtering. “Stop—both of y’all—”

Stack pushed off the counter, stalking closer, his eyes on her while he talked to his brother. “She laughin’ ‘cause I’m funny, I’m fine, and I fed her. You sittin’ over there drinkin’ bottled water like a bum.”

Smoke didn’t flinch, didn’t even look at him. His gaze stayed locked on Raven. “Tell him the truth, Rae. You sittin’ there wantin’ me to taste you more than them eggs, ain’t you?”

Her thighs pressed together under the table so fast it made her blush.

Stack caught it, his smirk going full filthy. “Look at her. Can’t even hide it.” He leaned down, one hand braced on the table right by her plate, so close she could smell the butter and cologne clinging to his skin. “Question is—who you gon’ let give you that sweet you want?”

The air snapped tight around them, her fork forgotten on the plate, her pulse thundering in her ears.

Playful, but dangerous now—like the whole kitchen was leaning in, waiting for her answer.

Raven tilted her head, the softest smirk tugging her lips. “Mm. Y’all talkin’ real big for two men scared of a plate of eggs.”

Stack narrowed his eyes, beard catching in the light as he leaned closer. “Scared? Girl, I just fed you. That’s points on the board already.”

“Points?” Raven arched her brow, dragging the fork through her eggs but not eating, just stirring. “Oh, so this a game now?”

Smoke’s voice slid in low, calm but sharp. “Always been a game. He just losin’ at it.”

Stack’s head snapped toward his brother. “Say what?”

Smoke finally looked at him, cool stare steady. “You try too hard. She don’t want all that loud. She want steady.”

Raven sipped her juice, biting back a laugh, her eyes darting between them like she was watching a match. “Steady, huh?”

“Yeah.” Smoke leaned back in the chair, his rough beard catching when he smirked. “Steady. Consistent. Not somebody playin’ Iron Chef in her kitchen like he on TV.”

Stack threw the spatula into the sink with a clatter. “You really hatin’ right now. Talkin’ like she don’t get wet off me makin’ her laugh.” He turned to Raven, voice dropping cocky-low. “Ain’t that right, Rae? I keep you smilin’.”

Her lips curved, soft but sly. “You keep me entertained.”

Stack’s grin faltered. “Entertained?”

Smoke’s laugh was low, dangerous. “Damn. She just friendzoned your ass with a smile.”

Raven giggled, covering her mouth. “Y’all ridiculous. Arguin’ over me like I don’t got a say.”

Both brothers’ heads snapped her way, heat sparking in their eyes.

“You got the say,” Stack said, stepping closer to the table, tattoos shifting across his chest. “Matter fact, say somethin’ now.”

Smoke’s gaze pinned her from the other side, voice calm but heavy. “Yeah. Tell us who really got your attention.”

Raven set her juice down slow, eyes dancing, letting the silence stretch before she finally spoke. “Mm. I like watchin’ y’all sweat too much to answer that.”

The kitchen thickened with the weight of it—Stack’s smirk going crooked, Smoke’s stare sharpening, both of them visibly trying to keep their composure while Raven leaned back in her chair, looking far too pleased with herself.

Raven leaned back in her chair, fork still idly stirring her eggs, eyes soft but sharp with amusement. She didn’t need to raise her tone; just watching them square off across the kitchen had her hiding a smile.

“Funny thing is,” she said finally, her voice calm, almost sweet, “both of y’all swear you winnin’… but neither of you asked me what I actually like.”

Stack froze mid-retort, spatula halfway to pointing again. “What you mean? You eatin’ my food right now.”

Smoke’s eyes narrowed, leaning in on his elbows. “Nah. She right. You too busy talkin’ ‘bout yourself to even check if she want half that plate.”

Raven speared a piece of bacon with her fork, taking her time chewing while both of them waited like she was about to hand down a verdict. She swallowed, lips curving faint. “Mm. I like the bacon.”

Stack grinned, triumphant. “Ha! Knew it—”

“But,” she cut in, raising a finger, “it’s a little burnt.”

Smoke’s laugh came out low and sharp, filling the room. Stack whipped his head toward him, beard sharp under the morning light. “Ayo, shut up—”

Raven hid her smile behind her glass. “I’m just sayin’. Don’t get cocky over crispy bacon.”

Smoke shook his head, eyes still on her. “See? She got jokes. That’s what I mean when I say she want steady. She don’t need a show.”

Stack’s chest puffed. “Man, she laughin’ at me all morning.”

Raven tilted her head, her tone quiet, shy but pointed. “I laugh at cartoons too. Don’t mean I wanna fuck Bugs Bunny.”

Smoke nearly choked on his water, coughing into his fist. Stack’s jaw dropped, then cracked into a grin. “She really just cooked me. That’s crazy.”

Raven pressed her lips together, trying not to laugh too hard at her own joke. “I’m just bein’ honest.”

“Honest?” Stack leaned closer, both hands on the table now, his clean fade catching in the light. “Then be honest for real. Who you thinkin’ about when you go to sleep at night?”

Her face heated, shy eyes dropping to her plate. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

Smoke leaned in too, voice gravel-low, rough beard shadowing his smirk. “That sound like she don’t wanna hurt your feelings.”

Raven’s laugh slipped out, soft but cutting, her fork clinking against the plate as she set it down. “I like watchin’ y’all argue too much to give either of you the satisfaction.”

The kitchen went quiet for a beat—both brothers staring at her like she’d just played them both without breaking a sweat.

She took another sip of juice, eyes shy but glinting. “So if y’all done fightin’… I’d like some more toast.”

Stack and Smoke both moved at once, chairs scraping, reaching for the bread bag like their lives depended on it.

The toast popped up, and both brothers lunged for it like it was a championship prize.

Stack grabbed the slices first, tossing them onto a plate with a smug grin. “Ha. Beat you again.”

Smoke moved slower, calmer, but his eyes never left Raven as he reached for the jelly. “Ain’t about speed. It’s about who she lets butter her bread.”

Raven choked on a laugh, covering her face with her hand. “Y’all need help.”

Stack slid the plate in front of her with a flourish, then leaned down, bracing one hand on the table right beside her plate. His body heat pressed close, that crisp beard brushing her cheek as he murmured, “Go ‘head, Rae. Say I’m the one you want makin’ you breakfast every morning.”

Before she could respond, a bigger, rougher hand slid over hers on the table. Smoke’s palm was heavy, steady, his thumb stroking slow across her knuckles. He leaned in from the other side, his low-cut head brushing her temple, beard scratchy against her skin.

“Don’t let him talk you into nothin’,” he rumbled, voice low enough it made her thighs press together under the table. “I can give you sweet all day.”

Raven froze, breath catching, caught between the clean press of Stack’s chest on one side and the rough scrape of Smoke’s beard on the other.

Her voice came out small, shy but sharp-edged. “Both of y’all all up in my face like I don’t got personal space.”

“Personal space?” Stack chuckled, his lips brushing the corner of her jaw as he pulled back just enough to look at her. “Baby, you been lettin’ me in your space since we was kids. Ain’t no closin’ the door now.”

Smoke’s thumb traced one more slow circle over her hand, then he leaned back in his chair, smirk dark and steady. “Yeah. Question is, who you lettin’ stay?”

Raven’s cheeks burned hot, but she tilted her head, lips curving in that sly, quiet way. “Maybe I like keepin’ y’all guessin’.”

The table went still—two brothers staring at her, one smirking clean, the other rough, both fighting not to break first.

And Raven? She picked up her toast, bit into it calm, and hummed like she wasn’t sitting in the middle of a storm.

Raven finally pushed her chair back, shaking her head at both of them. “Y’all too much. I can’t even eat in peace.”

Stack was already moving, swagger in every step. “C’mon, Rae. Let’s take this to the couch. Kitchen too small for me to prove I’m the better man.”

Smoke chuckled low, gathering his water and trailing after them. “Better man? You soundin’ desperate now.”

Raven padded into the living room barefoot, her oversized t-shirt skimming the tops of her thighs. She flopped down in the loveseat, tucking her legs under her, remote in hand. “Better man at what exactly?”

Stack dropped onto the couch beside her, spread out like he owned the space, his crisp beard catching the light as he smirked. “At everything. Laughs, food, looks, stamina—”

Smoke cut him off, dropping into the recliner across from them, leaning back easy. “Nigga said stamina like she ain’t never even let you test it.”

Raven burst out laughing, covering her mouth with her hand. “Y’all gotta chill before I record this mess and embarrass both of you.”

Stack leaned closer, dropping his voice just for her. “Nah, let him talk. You know what I can do. You just ain’t let me show you… yet.”

Smoke’s eyes sharpened at that, his smirk curling rough. “Yet doin’ a lot of work in that sentence.”

Raven stretched out, laying her legs across Stack’s lap like she was testing him, her shy eyes daring. “Maybe I like keepin’ y’all on edge. It’s fun watchin’ you argue.”

Stack gripped her ankle, thumb dragging slow against the curve, eyes locked on hers. “Keep playin’, Rae. You gon’ end up in my lap, not just your legs.”

Smoke leaned forward in his chair, his voice calm but heavy. “Or maybe she end up sittin’ right here instead. Choice always hers.”

The air thickened again—playful on the surface, but the way they both looked at her made her pulse quicken. Raven nibbled her lip, shy but sly. “Sounds like both of y’all tryna audition. Should I make scorecards?”

Stack barked out a laugh, gripping her calf tighter. “Shit, I’ll take a ten easy.”

Smoke’s smirk deepened, eyes burning steady into hers. “Mm. I ain’t here for points. I’m here to win.”

Raven giggled, cheeks heating, but she didn’t move her legs from Stack’s lap. Instead, she leaned her head back on the couch, the smallest grin curving her lips. “Guess I’ll just let y’all keep sweatin’.”

The silence stretched thick—Stack’s hand on her leg, Smoke’s eyes locked on her from across the room—both men caught in the push and pull, neither willing to back down.

The TV was on, some old rerun humming low in the background, but nobody in the room was watching. Raven stretched out on the loveseat, legs still draped across Stack’s lap, remote loose in her hand. She didn’t say a word—just leaned back into the cushions, eyes half-lidded, mouth soft.

That silence? It was louder than anything she could’ve said.

Stack shifted under her legs, the crisp line of his beard flexing with his jaw as he leaned closer. “You real quiet now, Rae. What’s that mean?”

Her lips curved faint, but she didn’t answer.

Stack chuckled, leaning down like he was gonna whisper in her ear. “Oh, I get it. You lettin’ me take the lead, huh?”

Across from them, Smoke leaned forward in his recliner, elbows on his knees, low-cut head tilted, beard rough under the glow of the lamp. His eyes locked on Raven, unblinking.

“That ain’t what that means,” he said, voice low, sure.

Stack shot him a look. “The hell you know? She sittin’ on me.”

“Her legs sittin’ on you,” Smoke corrected, slow and deliberate. His gaze never left Raven. “Rest of her body leanin’ away. That ain’t you winnin’. That’s her keepin’ distance.”

Raven’s lashes fluttered, the only tell she gave, but her lips stayed shut.

Stack scoffed, trying to mask the way his jaw clenched. “Man, you sound stupid. She laughin’ at you in her head right now.”

But Smoke didn’t even glance his way. He shifted from the chair, rising to his full height, and crossed the space between them. His presence filled the room—steady, heavy, unhurried.

He stopped right in front of Raven, his shadow falling across her, his eyes dark and focused. “Tell me I’m wrong,” he said, voice deep but soft, like a challenge meant only for her.

Raven’s breath hitched, her fingers tightening on the remote. She didn’t say a word.

Smoke smirked, the corner of his rough beard lifting. “That’s what I thought.”

He reached down, slow, brushing a curl away from her cheek. His thumb lingered at her jaw, a touch too tender for how sharp his eyes were.

Stack shifted on the couch, glaring up at his brother. “Man, back up.”

But Raven didn’t move away. She let Smoke’s hand rest there, silent still, her shy eyes flicking up at him, heat blooming in her chest.

And just like that, the room tilted.

The living room was thick with quiet. The only sound was the rerun laugh track spilling from the TV—tinny, fake, nothing like the heat humming between the three of them.

Raven’s eyes stayed on her lap, lashes low, the remote loose in her hand. She didn’t giggle, didn’t joke, didn’t feed either of them. That silence had both men restless.

Stack tapped his fingers against her shin, his clean fade catching in the lamp light as he leaned closer. “You gon’ make me drag the truth outta you, Rae? ‘Cause you know I will.”

Still, she didn’t answer.

Smoke crouched slightly, lowering himself into her line of sight, rough beard shadowing his jaw. His voice dropped, steady and low. “She ain’t ignoring you. She choosin’ not to speak. Big difference.”

Raven’s lips parted faint, breath shaky, but no words came.

Stack straightened, tension pulling through his jaw. “Nigga, you talkin’ like you know her better than me.”

Smoke didn’t even look at him. His eyes stayed locked on Raven’s, heavy and unblinking. “I don’t gotta talk. I can see it.”

The weight of his gaze pinned her in place, her chest rising faster, heat blooming across her cheeks. Her silence wasn’t playful anymore—it was surrender.

And Smoke knew it.

Slowly, deliberately, he reached out. His hand slid around her wrist, firm but not rough, guiding the remote out of her grip. The plastic clattered softly on the cushion. Then, with one tug, he pulled her forward off the loveseat.

Raven gasped, stumbling, her hands flying to his chest as she landed against him. The rough cotton of his t-shirt scratched against her palms, the warmth of his body swallowing her.

Smoke’s arm circled her waist, anchoring her. “Enough games,” he murmured, low against her ear.

Stack shot up from the couch, his beard sharp, eyes flashing. “The fuck you doin’, man?”

Smoke tilted his head, his rough smirk aimed at his brother but his body still wrapped around Raven. “Making the first move. You had your shot while she was sittin’ with you. You ain’t take it.”

Raven’s breath came quick, her face pressed against Smoke’s chest, the heat of both brothers’ eyes burning into her. Her silence wasn’t safe anymore—it was a fire she’d lit without meaning to, and now she was caught in the middle of the blaze.

Stack shot off the couch so fast the cushion bounced. His fade was sharp under the lamplight, his chest heaving, clean beard flexing as he ground his jaw.

“Hell nah,” he snapped, pointing straight at Smoke, who still had Raven tucked against him. “You not about to stand here like you the one runnin’ shit. She been ridin’ with me.”

Smoke’s arm tightened around Raven’s waist, keeping her close, his eyes never leaving his brother. “Then why she lettin’ me hold her right now?”

Stack stepped closer, their height near eye to eye, the tension between them sparking like static. “’Cause you grabbed her. That don’t mean nothin’.”

Raven’s fingers curled in Smoke’s shirt, her breath stuttering. The heat of his chest pressed against her, but Stack’s voice had weight too, pulling at her from the other side.

Smoke leaned down slightly, his gravel voice low, sharp. “She coulda pushed me off. She didn’t.”

Stack’s laugh was short, ugly. “She froze, dumbass. That’s what happens when you swoop in like a thief. You think she chose you? Please.”

Raven’s head snapped up at that, her soft eyes sparking. Her silence cracked.

“Stop,” she burst out, voice shaking but firm. “Both of you. You sound stupid.”

The room went still.

Her cheeks flushed hot, chest rising, her voice spilling fast now that the dam had broken. “You think I don’t see what y’all doin’? Competing like I’m a prize. But you ain’t even asked me what I want. Just talkin’ over me like I’m not even sittin’ right here.”

Stack froze, blinking like she’d slapped him. Smoke’s grip on her waist loosened a fraction, his eyes dropping to her face.

Raven’s voice softened, shy but steady. “I ain’t nobody’s trophy. If you want me—then act like it.”

The silence that followed was heavier than anything before. Stack’s jaw flexed, his sharp grin faltering. Smoke’s smirk had gone, replaced with something darker, more serious.

And Raven? Her chest rose and fell, her body still trembling against Smoke, but her words had landed. For the first time all night, they both knew—she wasn’t just gonna sit quiet while they fought over her.

The living room was heavy with their silence, both brothers staring at her like she’d just shifted the ground under their feet. Raven’s chest rose and fell fast, cheeks flushed, her small frame caught between two storms that wouldn’t quit clashing.

She shook her head, curls brushing her cheeks. “Y’all really pissin’ me off right now.”

Stack blinked, taken aback, mouth opening to argue. Smoke’s jaw flexed like he had something loaded too. But Raven cut across them, voice sharp.

“In the beginning it was cute. Breakfast, jokes, all that. But y’all draggin’ it, like I’m supposed to sit here while you fight over me.” Her eyes darted between them, sharp despite her softness. “Didn’t we already settle this? I’m both of yours. So why the fuck we playin’ tug-o-war?”

That landed like a slap. Stack’s shoulders sagged a little, his smirk dying down. Smoke exhaled slow, gaze dark and steady on her.

Raven’s lips pressed tight, her pulse hammering. She swallowed, then moved before either of them could.

Her hands slid up Smoke’s chest, clutching the collar of his shirt. She yanked him down, standing on her toes, and pressed her mouth to his.

The kiss was messy, sudden, all teeth and heat. Smoke groaned low in his chest, one arm locking around her waist, the other sliding up her back to hold her in place.

Stack cursed under his breath, fists clenching at his sides. “Goddamn…”

Raven broke from Smoke’s mouth, breath shaky, eyes shining as she turned on Stack. Her bare feet padded across the rug, her oversized shirt skimming her thighs as she grabbed two fists of his chain and yanked him down too.

Their mouths crashed together, her soft moan swallowed by his sharp growl. Stack kissed like he fought—hard, filthy, all-consuming—his hands gripping her ass, pulling her flush against him.

When she finally pulled back, both brothers were staring at her, lips swollen, eyes burning.

Raven wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, cheeks flushed. Her voice was quiet, but it sliced through the air.

“Now… you still confused who I belong to?”

Neither of them had an answer. Not one that mattered.

Raven’s lips were still swollen from kissing them both, her breath shaky as she pulled back. Her chest heaved, her soft eyes flashing with defiance and heat all at once.

Stack licked his lips, shaking his head with a low laugh. “You somethin’ else, Rae. Got us out here actin’ stupid, and all you had to do was kiss us.”

Smoke’s hand slid around her waist, pulling her back into his chest, his beard brushing her temple. His voice was low, steady, gravel-dark. “No more stupid games. We done fightin’. We takin’ care of you together.”

Raven swallowed, her body trembling between them. “Together?”

Stack smirked, stepping in close, his clean beard brushing her jaw as he kissed her again—rough, claiming. His hands slid under her thighs, gripping firm. “Yeah, baby. You ours. Time to show you what that means.”

Before she could answer, he lifted her straight off the floor, her legs wrapping around his waist on instinct. Smoke’s hands steadied her back, sliding down to cup her ass.

They carried her to the couch, laying her across it like an offering.

Stack knelt between her legs first, his chain swinging as he pulled her panties down slow. “Fuck… look at her, Shine,” he muttered to his brother, eyes locked on the wetness glistening between Raven’s thighs.

Smoke stood over them, gaze heavy, voice gravel-deep. “She been ready. Playin’ coy while she soaked through these damn panties.”

Raven whimpered, covering her face with her hands. “Stop—”

Smoke tugged her hands away, pinning them above her head with one large palm. “Nah, don’t hide. You gon’ let us see everything.”

Stack smirked up at her, then bent low, his mouth finally on her, tongue hot and filthy against her pussy. Raven’s back arched off the couch, her cry sharp and needy.

“Goddamn…” Stack groaned against her, licking deeper, wetter. “She taste like fuckin’ candy.”

Smoke’s free hand slid over her chest, circling her nipple until it pebbled. His mouth brushed her ear, voice coaxing and filthy all at once. “That’s it. Let him eat. You ours, baby. Don’t fight it.”

Her thighs trembled, her hips rocking helplessly into Stack’s mouth, his beard scratching her skin as he groaned against her. Every lick, every suck dragged her higher, her shy voice breaking into moans she couldn’t bite back.

Her cry echoed off the walls, and both brothers smiled like predators—this was theirs, together.

Raven writhed on the couch, her thighs trembling around Stack’s head, her wrists pinned above her by Smoke’s steady hand. Every time she tried to close her legs, Stack shoved them wider, his sharp fade brushing her inner thighs as he buried his mouth back in her.

“Goddamn, Rae,” Stack groaned against her pussy, lips slick, tongue pushing deep. “So fuckin’ wet… drippin’ all over my face.”

Her cry tore through the room, soft and desperate. Smoke leaned down over her, his rough beard brushing her cheek as his voice filled her ear.

“Good girl. Let him eat. That’s what we been waitin’ on.” His thumb flicked over her nipple through the thin fabric of her shirt, making her arch harder. “Ain’t no reason to be shy now. Not when you givin’ us sounds like that.”

Raven shook her head, her soft curls sticking to her damp cheeks, lips parting on broken moans. “Please—”

“Please what?” Smoke coaxed, his grip tightening on her wrists when she tried to pull free. “Use your words, baby. Tell us what you need.”

Stack groaned low, sucking her clit between his lips, tongue circling filthy. “She don’t need words. Her body beggin’ loud enough.”

Her back lifted off the couch, her thighs trembling as Stack devoured her, tongue pressing deep, beard scraping her soft skin until she cried out again. Smoke’s free hand slid down her stomach, resting heavy just above her pussy, feeling her muscles jump under his palm every time Stack made her shake.

“You feel that?” Smoke muttered, eyes locked on his brother between her thighs. “She about to break. Give it to us, Rae.”

Raven’s voice fractured into a sob, her hips jerking helplessly into Stack’s mouth. “I—can’t—”

“Yes, you can.” Smoke’s tone was rough but steady, pushing her through. “You takin’ it. Just like this. Good girl.”

Stack pulled back for half a second, his mouth slick, lips shining as he grinned up at her. “You hearin’ this, Rae? You drippin’ all down my chin and you still tryin’ to fight it. Let that shit go.”

Then he latched back on, sucking hard, tongue flicking mercilessly until her scream filled the room. Her body locked, then broke, her orgasm crashing through her as both brothers held her down and took everything she gave.

Smoke kissed her cheek while she shook, his rough beard scratching her skin. “That’s it. Sweetest fuckin’ sound I ever heard.”

Stack groaned against her pussy, licking her through every wave. “She ain’t done yet. I can pull two more outta her easy.”

Raven sobbed softly, caught between their voices, her body jerking as they dragged her higher.

And the best part? This was only the beginning.

Raven was still shaking from her orgasm, her thighs weak, her lips swollen, her breath broken into shallow gasps. But Stack wasn’t done—not even close.

He pulled back just enough to smack her thigh. “Turn over. On your knees, Rae.”

Her soft eyes darted up, shy but glassy with heat, and Smoke tugged her wrists down, finally freeing her arms. He guided her off the couch and onto the rug, his rough palm cupping her chin. “Come here.”

He sat down heavy on the couch, legs spread wide, his sweatpants already tented thick. His low-cut head tilted, beard rough under the glow as he looked down at her. “You know what to do,” he said as he pushed his sweats down.

Stack was already behind her, big hands sliding over her ass as he nudged her legs apart, pushing her forward on all fours. His mouth dove back between her thighs, tongue hot and filthy as he ate her from behind.

Raven gasped, her body jerking forward—straight into Smoke’s lap.

His hand slid to the back of her head, steady but not rough, guiding her down. “Open up for me.”

Her lips parted, shy at first, tongue flicking against the thick head of his dick. Smoke groaned low, his head falling back against the cushion. “Fuck…”

Stack growled against her pussy, gripping her ass harder as his tongue worked her clit, beard scraping her until she moaned around Smoke’s length. The vibration made Smoke curse, his hand flexing in her curls.

“That’s it,” he rasped, voice gravel-deep. “Take it deeper, baby. You got me.”

Raven whimpered, throat tightening as she slid lower, her mouth stretching around him. Smoke’s eyes fluttered, his rough voice spilling out. “Good girl. You takin’ both of us like you was made for it.”

Behind her, Stack pulled back just long enough to smack her ass, then dive back in, tongue dragging her open, licking her sloppy until her knees trembled.

Her moans vibrated down Smoke’s shaft, making him groan louder. “Shit… keep doin’ that. Stack, you feel how she squeezin’?”

Stack pulled back to speak, his lips and chin wet. “Hell yeah. She bout to fall apart.” He shoved his tongue back in, groaning against her folds.

Raven’s body rocked between them—her mouth stuffed full, her pussy devoured from behind, her soft cries spilling around Smoke’s dick while Stack licked her through wave after wave.

And the brothers? Their voices layered over her, filthy and low, claiming her together.

Raven was already trembling, her thighs slick, her voice muffled around Smoke’s dick. Every moan buzzed through him, making his jaw clench, his hand tighten in her curls.

Stack groaned against her pussy one last time before pulling back, his face shining with her wetness, beard glistening. “Nah. I need more than a taste.”

He stood, yanking his sweats down, his thick dick heavy and wet at the tip. He smirked down at Raven’s arched back. “Get ready, Rae. You bout to learn why I don’t play fair.”

Smoke’s hand flexed at her scalp, forcing her to keep sucking him, her lips stretched wide around his length. “She ready,” he muttered, eyes dark and locked on her face. “Been ready.”

Stack lined himself up behind her, one big hand gripping her hip tight. With one sharp thrust, he buried himself inside, the wet slide deep and filthy.

Raven choked on Smoke’s dick, her whole body jerking forward from the force of it. Her muffled cry vibrated down his shaft, making him groan deep.

“Fuck…” Smoke hissed, head tipping back against the couch. “She clenchin’ on both ends.”

Stack gritted his teeth, his grip bruising her hips as he pulled back slow, then slammed back in, the sound of skin on skin echoing through the room. “Tight as hell. Been dreamin’ about this pussy.”

Raven whimpered around Smoke’s length, tears pricking her lashes as her body rocked between them. Sweat slicked her back, her soft hands digging into Smoke’s thighs while Stack fucked her harder, each thrust pushing her deeper onto her knees.

Smoke groaned, looking down at her wet lips stretched around him. “Good girl. Don’t stop. Take all of it.” His thumb rubbed her cheek, coaxing. “Breathe through it, baby. You got both of us.”

Stack’s filthy laugh cut through the air as he picked up his pace, fucking her harder from behind, every thrust making her gag on Smoke. “Look at her. Our pretty little mess. Mouth full, pussy full. Ain’t no goin’ back now.”

Her muffled cries grew higher, wetter, her whole body shaking as the two men used her in sync—Smoke groaning low above, Stack cursing filthy below.

And through it all, their voices tangled around her:

“Good girl.”

“Take it.”

“She ours now.”

Raven’s throat worked around Smoke’s length, her lips slick, spit dripping down her chin onto his thighs. Every thrust of Stack’s hips shoved her forward, making her gag around Smoke’s dick, choking on every inch.

Stack’s growl filled the room, sharp and dirty. “Fuck—she squeezin’ me tighter every time she choke. Pussy grabbin’ like she don’t wanna let go.”

Smoke’s hand cradled the back of her head, his thumb stroking her damp cheek even as he held her down on him. His voice was low, coaxing, filthy-soft. “That’s it, baby. Don’t fight it. Open up. Take me in that sweet throat while he breaks your pussy.”

Her body jolted between them, her muffled cries buzzing against Smoke’s length, making him hiss. Sweat trickled down his temple, his thighs tensing under her small hands as her lips slid wetly down his shaft.

Stack slapped her ass, sharp and loud, before gripping her hips tight again, his thrusts harder, deeper, filling her until her knees buckled. “You hear them noises she makin’? That’s both of us wringin’ her the fuck out.”

Her body shook, drool dripping from her mouth, tears streaking her flushed cheeks, but the wet sounds spilling from her throat said it all—she wasn’t pulling away. She was taking it.

Smoke groaned, his rough beard shadowing his clenched jaw. “She close. Feel it in the way she twitchin’. You about to cum for us, Raven? Stuffed full, pussy stretched, mouth gaggin’? That’s how you wanna give it up?”

Raven’s muffled whimper came out broken, desperate, her nails digging into his thighs.

Stack snarled, snapping his hips harder, faster, driving her into it. “She bout to cream all over me. Look at her—body shakin’, throat tight. Cum for us, Rae. Do it.”

The demand shattered her.

Her whole body convulsed, her muffled cry strangled around Smoke’s dick as her pussy clenched tight, soaking Stack’s thrusts. Her orgasm ripped through her, messy and loud even with her mouth full, her body buckling between them.

Smoke groaned deep, holding her face steady against him, his voice ragged but coaxing. “Good fuckin’ girl. That’s it. Cum on him while you choke on me. Ours.”

Stack gritted his teeth, still pounding through her climax, his chest slick with sweat. “Messy as hell. Just how we like her.”

And Raven? She broke completely—stuffed, gagging, shaking, every part of her claimed at once.

Raven collapsed forward, body trembling, spit and tears streaking her face, her pussy still fluttering around Stack’s dick as he slowed just enough to let her catch half a breath. Smoke stroked a rough thumb over her cheek, his eyes dark but steady.

“Up here,” he rasped, guiding her chin. “Climb up.”

Stack slid out of her, groaning low at the sight of her swollen, dripping pussy. He slapped her ass once, sharp, before smirking. “Yeah. Put her on you. Let her ride.”

Smoke tugged his sweats down, his cock slick and heavy as he leaned back into the couch cushions. Raven blinked up at him, dazed, her lips parted, shy but desperate.

“C’mon, baby,” he coaxed, his hands steady on her waist as he pulled her up. “Sit down on it. I got you.”

Her thighs trembled as she straddled him, his broad chest hot against hers. With a shaky breath, she guided him inside, inch by inch, her soft cry echoing as he filled her deep.

“Fuuuck,” Smoke groaned, his head tipping back, rough beard tight against his jaw. “She milkin’ me already. Look at that, Eli.”

Stack stood behind her, eyes locked on the way she stretched around Smoke’s dick. His grin was sharp, filthy. “Yeah, she ridin’ him sweet… but she ain’t done till she split wide open.”

Raven gasped, twisting to look back at him, her shy voice breaking. “W-what—?”

Stack spat in his palm, stroking himself slick. “Relax, Rae. You about to learn what sharing really mean.”

Smoke’s grip tightened on her hips, steady but grounding. His voice dropped, gravel-dark. “You can take it. Breathe. Let us stretch you right.”

Stack lined up behind her, his chest pressed to her back, his voice hot in her ear. “Gon’ be full everywhere, baby. Pussy stuffed, ass stretched. You made for this.”

Her soft cry trembled as the blunt head of his dick pushed against her tight rim. She buried her face against Smoke’s neck, nails clawing his shoulders.

“Shhh,” Smoke murmured, his hands anchoring her as he rocked slow inside her pussy. “Don’t run. We got you.”

Stack pushed forward, inch by inch, until she was split between them, her body quaking from the stretch.

Her scream filled the room, raw and wrecked.

Both brothers groaned in unison, voices tangled—

“Goddamn…”

“Look at her takin’ both.”

Raven shook, her body locked around them, stuffed so deep it felt impossible.

Stack gritted his teeth, his breath hot at her ear. “You ours now. Ain’t no room for nobody else. You full of us.”

Smoke’s gaze locked on her tear-streaked face, his thumb stroking her cheek even as his hips rolled slow, deep inside her. “That’s it, baby. Give it all to us. Every sound, every tear—everything.”

Their thrusts fell into rhythm, Raven caught in the middle, stretched to her limit, her cries shattering as her body broke all over again.

The living room sounded like sin. Skin slapping wet against skin, their groans tangled with her cries, the couch creaking under the weight of three bodies moving like they were made to break each other.

Raven’s voice was ragged, high and shaky, every breath spilling into Smoke’s neck as she clung to his shoulders. “Oh—oh my god—”

Her pussy clenched hard around Smoke’s cock with every deep thrust, while Stack drove into her ass from behind, the stretch overwhelming, filthy, impossible—and perfect. Every nerve in her body lit up, her mind gone white with the fullness of them both.

Smoke’s hands held her steady, big palms spanning her waist. His rough beard brushed her cheek as he leaned in, his voice low, coaxing, steady. “Look at me, baby. Don’t close your eyes.”

Her lashes fluttered, tears clinging, but she obeyed, soft brown eyes meeting his. The world blurred around the edges, but his gaze was sharp and heavy, anchoring her while her body trembled.

“That’s it,” he murmured, his thumb brushing her jaw. “Stay with me while you take all this.”

Behind her, Stack was rough, filthy, his voice sharp in her ear as he pounded harder. “Tight as fuck, Rae. Got both of us locked up. You ours. You hear me?”

Her moan cracked into a sob, her nails dragging down Smoke’s back, leaving red trails. “I—I can’t—”

“Yes, you can,” Smoke cut in, steady and firm, hips rolling deep inside her. His dark eyes held hers, refusing to let her drift. “You takin’ it perfect. Just feel it. Let us own every inch of you.”

The sounds tangled louder: her wet cries, Stack’s sharp groans as her ass gripped him tight, Smoke’s deep grunts as her pussy squeezed around him. Sweat dripped down their bodies, the room heavy with the scent of sex and heat.

Raven’s body convulsed, trembling hard between them, every nerve sparking from the stretch. She gasped, voice breaking. “It’s too much—”

Stack smacked her ass, groaning. “Ain’t no such thing as too much when it come to us.”

Smoke’s thumb brushed her tear-streaked cheek again, his voice softer, filthy but full of care. “Let go, baby. Cum with both of us inside you. Show us it’s ours.”

Her scream ripped the air, raw and shaking, as her body shattered around them—pussy clenching, ass squeezing, every muscle locked in surrender.

Both brothers cursed, their thrusts stuttering as they felt her break apart, her body milking them desperate and wild.

And still, Smoke kept her eyes on his, grounding her while she came undone.

Raven was already breaking, her whole body trembling as she came, clamped down tight around both brothers. Her cry had gone hoarse, raw, every sound spilling out like she couldn’t hold it back if she tried.

Stack’s growl tore the air, his pace brutal as he gripped her hips. “Shit—she squeezin’ the life outta me. Don’t stop, Rae. Keep milkin’ me while you shake.”

Smoke’s jaw clenched, sweat dripping from his temple as his hips rolled slower, deeper, each thrust dragging inside her like he was carving his name. His rough voice rumbled steady, coaxing. “That’s it, baby. Stay with us. You ours. Ain’t nobody ever gon’ touch you like this.”

Raven’s nails dug into his shoulders, her face wet with tears, drool streaking her chin. “I—can’t—”

“You can,” Smoke whispered, thumb stroking her cheek even as he pounded up into her. “Look at me. You takin’ two dicks right now, splittin’ yourself open for us. That’s forever, Rae. You hear me? Forever.”

Stack’s voice cut in, raw and filthy behind her. “Yeah, let this be the only thing you think about. Us stuffin’ you so full you can’t breathe without rememberin’ how it feels. You mine, Rae. Always fuckin’ mine.”

Her body convulsed, still riding the aftershocks of her orgasm, her sobs breaking into moans as they pushed her through it.

Smoke’s head tipped back, his voice breaking low. “I’m close—fuck—” His eyes snapped back down, pinning hers, his voice sharp. “Cum with me, baby. Don’t let me go alone.”

Stack gritted his teeth, his thrusts erratic, sharp. “Bout to fill this ass up, Rae. You gon’ take it all. Every drop.”

The rhythm faltered, their groans overlapping, the sound of their bodies colliding with hers filling the room. Then it hit—both of them spilling inside her at once, their voices tangled in raw curses and filthy claims.

“Fuck—take it—”

“Mine, Rae. Ours.”

“Don’t let go. Don’t you fuckin’ let go.”

Her body jerked, overstimulated, their release thick and hot as they filled her everywhere, leaking down her thighs, dripping between her legs.

Stack groaned rough, forehead pressed to her back as his hips slowed, still buried deep. Smoke kept her face tilted to his, kissing her softly even as his breath came harsh.

“You feel that?” he whispered, voice ragged but sure. “That’s both of us in you. Nothin’ left empty. Nothin’ left for anybody else.”

Raven whimpered, exhausted and wrecked, her body still trembling in their grip.

Stack slapped her ass once, softer this time, his voice low but dirty. “Better get used to it. We not lettin’ you go.”

And for the first time all morning, there was no competition—just the two of them inside her, claiming her together.

The room was quiet now, the storm broken. Only their heavy breaths filled the space, the air thick with sex and sweat. Raven’s body slumped forward, her cheek pressed to Smoke’s chest, her thighs trembling around his hips.

Smoke’s arms wrapped around her, steady and grounding, his rough beard brushing the top of her curls as he pressed a kiss there. “Breathe, baby. You did good. Took us both like you was born for it.”

Stack pulled out slow, groaning as he collapsed against her back, his chest slick with sweat. His big hands rubbed her hips, softer now. “Messiest, prettiest fuckin’ thing I ever seen.”

Raven whimpered, shifting, and Smoke eased her down, guiding her to lay sideways across both their laps. Her soft eyes blinked open, swollen lips curving tired but sly. “Y’all really tried to kill me.”

Stack barked a laugh, smacking her thigh lightly. “Don’t act brand new. You had us fightin’ all mornin’, then made us team up. You knew exactly what you was doin’.”

Raven huffed a weak laugh, her voice low but sharp. “Didn’t know I was signin’ up to be a wishbone, though.”

Smoke chuckled, shaking his head. “Still talkin’ slick after all that. She tougher than you, Eli.”

Stack shot him a look, beard glinting under the lamp. “Nigga, please. She was screamin’ my name loudest.”

Raven groaned, throwing an arm over her face. “Both of y’all shut up.”

But Smoke only smirked, his thumb stroking her knee. “Nah, let him talk. He insecure ‘cause he know I had her lookin’ in my eyes when she came.”

Stack sat up straighter, glaring at his brother over Raven’s body. “Yeah? But who had her squirmin’ on their tongue first?”

Raven sighed, covering her ears. “Here we go…”

The brothers locked eyes, their smirks sharp as blades, and spoke at the same time.

“Sharing is caring, nigga.”