Mariah💕

body language masterlist

a translator that doesn’t eat ass like google translate does

a reverse dictionary for when ur brain freezes

550 words to say instead of fuckin said

638 character traits for when ur brain freezes again

pairing ⁀➷ plug!aaron x plus-size!shyreader

synopsis ⁀➷ you needed to decompress. you decide to call up the best dealer on campus and he serves you something better than an eighth ounce of weed.

song of the chapter ⁀➷ ‘deserve’ by lucky daye.

word count + warnings ⁀➷ 4.0k || foul language, weed usage, very, very small mention of death, mean!aaron (only for a little bit 😝), shy!reader, inexperienced! reader, virgin!reader, minor teasing about virginity, kissing, tongue kissing, dry humping, thigh riding, praise, breast play.

a/n — im having too much fun writing for this man, omg! yall this is something simple but i have a lot more coming! i hope yall enjoy and thank you guys for all the love!!💕

‘she said all she need is a puff and a drink, that’ll help her think.’

ᥫ᭡

you truly had no reason to be this nervous.

“stacy, what if he hates me? what if he upcharges me or something?” you rambled, fidgeting with the plants on your granite countertop before turning to the couch and neatly folding the fuzzy throw blanket.

“girl,” your friend sighs. “aaron is not like that. he’s going to bring you the weed, charge you thirty-five dollars and then he’ll be on his way. simple.”

it sounded simple, but it was always easier said than done. aaron was the dealer on campus and everyone went to him for the good shit. he held quite the reputation for being strict. he didn’t play about his money and would fuck up anyone who came between it. you met aaron a few weeks ago at a function you both attended through mutual friends. the whole night you couldn’t help but feel like his eyes were on you. the rest of the party was spent with you awkwardly laughing and looking for the nearest exit. the last thing you wanted to do was be alone with him. unfortunately, no one else sold a product as good as aaron so that left you with only one option.

“stacy,” you groaned, sounding like a whiny child. “why can’t you buy it for me and i pay you back?”

“i would babe, you know that, but i'm swamped with school work and exams. if my parents saw my grades right now they would fucking kill me.” stacy says lifting her phone and turning the facetime camera on to see you.

“you got this, y/n. aaron doesn’t go around messing with people unless they’ve fucked with him and as far as i know, you haven’t done shit to him. get the weed, blaze up and relax, girl.”

you laugh softly, releasing a little bit of your anxiety, until a rhythmic knock is heard on your apartment door, quickly bringing back any nerves you let go.

“shit, shit, shit. stacy i’m going to call you later, okay?”

“okay, girl. you got this. stop stressing.”

you nod affirmatively and then hang up the phone. taking a few steps towards the front door, you wipe any perspiration from your hands onto your skirt and unlock the latches that separates you from aaron.

“aaron,” you smile, trying to remain calm.

your nerves worsen as aaron stands an entire foot taller than you, sporting a gray jogging set with a pair of white air force ones, his scent of cologne and weed linger throughout your hallway, a tight lipped mug is on his serious face. those things combined just make you more anxious.

“wassup. stacy told me you wanted to cop?”

you nod, his voice so low and baritone it almost knocks you off your feet. “yes. however much thirty-five dollars can get me.”

aaron raises a holographic pouch in the air suggesting what was inside was for you.

“o.m.g. that’s perfect. is it already rolled?” you asked grabbing your phone from the couch to pay him for his kind service.

“nah, you gotta do that yourself.”

you frown. “i’ve never rolled up before. stacy usually does it for us.” you were new to this smoking thing and really only did it to relieve the stress that college brought on.

you sigh and proceed to type into your phone. “it’s okay, i’ll just watch a youtube tutorial or something. what’s your cashapp name?”

aaron is silent as he once over you. eyes raking over your body before looking behind you to see into your apartment. “you by yourself?”

“y-yes,” you say confusedly, the look he gave you making your stomach flip.

“come on, i'll roll up for you and that’s it.”

excitedly you open your door wider for aaron to come in. “thank you so much, i really appreciate this, you don’t even understand.”

“don’t get all giddy and shit, i’ma show you how to roll and then i’m gone,” he says walking into your home.

“that’s perfect, thank you again,” you close and lock the door behind you, while aaron removes his shoes. you then show him to the living room, where he takes a seat on your beige loveseat.

you begin to sit but quickly stand up, “shoot! where are my manners? let me get us some snacks.”

aaron attempts to protest, but fails as you are already in the kitchen ransacking the cabinets for chips, cookies and drinks. carrying all the items in your arms, you set them on the coffee table alongside the other trinkets that resided there.

“you know i’m not staying, right?” aaron says, turning to you as you finally sit down.

“yeah,” you lie. why didn’t he want to stay? “it’s just in case you want some.”

you smile and aaron stares at you blankly, turning his attention back to what he came here for. he opens the pouch and takes a whiff of the weed and pulls a small sage green nug from the bag.

“you got papers?”

“papers?” you repeat, puzzled.

“rolling papers, swishers, backwoods–shit, a bong? do you have anything?” he asks, growing a bit frustrated.

“no,” you say, voice wavering. “i rarely smoke and stacy usually has everything we need.”

aaron sighs, shaking his head, lifting from the couch to pull a pack of backwoods from his pocket.

“thank you,” you mutter, too scared to say anything else.

“you cool, don’t trip.”

you try to relax and watch as aaron breaks down the weed and sprinkle each piece into the wood, fingers nimble as he tightly rolls the blunt into a thin cylinder. it’s when aaron goes to seal the blunt with his pink tongue and lips, that you have to dart your eyes away to avoid melting.

aaron marvels at his masterpiece before asking. “you got a lighter?”

that you did have. you reached for the bic lighter you used earlier today to light the honey and amber candle you had currently burning. when you hand it to aaron to light the blunt, the damn thing won’t work. that puts the final nail in the coffin. did fate have it out for you today? were you not supposed to be smoking? what the hell was it?

“it doesn’t work,” aaron says.

“sorry,” you say, frantically standing to search the kitchen counter for another lighter until an idea hits you.

“here, try this,” you walk back into the living room with the lit mushroom shaped candle.

aaron side eyes you for a moment before allowing you to light the blunt with the candle. “you’re crazy,” he chuckles dryly.

“sorry,” you laugh along, awkwardly.

“here,” he hands you the blunt, watching as you take two pulls from it and exhaling slowly.

it took a few seconds before you began to relax. the weed was strong but not harsh, it didn’t have you choking and coughing. aaron really did have the good shit.

“you want some?” you ask, offering to aaron. “i won’t be able to finish this by myself.”

“nah, i don’t smoke with my clients.”

“oh,” you pout, “sorry.”

“stop apologizing,” he sighs, staring at you for a second before reluctantly reaching for the blunt.

“what?” you watch as he takes a few puffs from it, ashing the access onto a paper plate you brought from the kitchen earlier for the snacks.

“stop apologizing. you do that shit all the time. you got nothing to be sorry for.”

you’re about to say ‘sorry’ again until you remember.

“i’ll smoke a blunt with you, then im out.”

“okay,” you smile, pink braces on full display.

aaron pulls from the blunt and you grab the remote to turn the volume on the television up.

aaron wasn’t as mean as you initially thought. unsure if it was the weed that calmed him or if you were overreacting initially—either way he was a nice guy. he asked you questions about your family, school and your personal life and he genuinely listened to your drawn-out high rambling.

the next hour passes with you and aaron smoking a total of two and a half blunts. the snacks you brought to the living room were practically gone as you and he devoured most of them, all thanks to the munchies that snuck up on you both. now the classic stoner film ‘friday’ played while both of you intriguingly watched as if it were your first time.

“why didn’t craig just pay big worm with the check he picked up?” you giggle, feeling light as a feather.

“that nigga probably used it on getting that gun,” aaron joins.

you gasp, replaying parts of the movie in your head. “you’re right, i didn’t even think about that.”

the movie goes on a quick ad break and you turn the television off, preparing for aaron to leave. the sun was setting and you were pretty sure he was ready to go home now.

“thank you, again. i probably would’ve messed that weed up so badly if you didn’t roll up.”

“nah, you good. i enjoyed myself.”

“seriously?” your eyebrows raise.

“wouldn’t have stayed if i didn’t,” he shrugs.

aaron was extremely handsome. a true man if you’d ever seen one. toned thighs spread out on your couch, sculpted arms with a great deal of veins running all over, and beautiful eyes, so alluring that you found yourself staring into them longer than necessary.

“how long you’ve been friends with stacey?”

the distant question draws you back. you were practically floating right now—on a completely different planet from the weed aaron provided.

“um—since middle school. we’ve been friends since we were younger.”

aaron nods, his usually blue-ish green eyes now tinted with a cloud of red. “we became cool around junior year of high school. the girl is crazy but she cool as hell.”

“yes, that’s my bestie. i love her to life.”

aaron chuckles at that, turning to face you. “to life? i ain’t never heard no one say that before.”

“oh,” you wave. “i try not to speak much about death. words have meanings and depth, you know?”

he stared at you for a moment. you were interesting. he’d never met a girl as nice and witty as you. you were a shy thing, but became riveting once comfortable.

“you be reading all those books?” he points to the small bookcase in the corner of your living room. your memory foam bean bag chair and kindle paper white rest there too.

“yeah,” you smile, taking a small amount of pride in your setup.

“for fun?” he asks with genuine concern, which makes you laugh.

“yes. they’re really good. they're mostly romance, so it keeps me entertained.”

“they be fucking?”

you nearly choke at the question. and while yes they did have sex in the books, hearing the bluntness from aaron tripped you out. this was the same man who hadn’t spoken two words to you prior to today.

“s-sometimes. yeah, they do.”

he hums and nods. “what’s your favorite?”

“oh, i can’t pick. i love all of them. i can loan you one and let you read for yourself,” you offer with a nervous grin on your face.

“yeah, might have to see what a good girl like you is doing reading smut and shit.”

your palms sweat as you laugh nervously. “a good girl? what makes you think that?”

“i be watching.”

you knew you weren’t crazy! aaron was watching you.

“and you think i’m a good girl?”

“hell yeah. you just started smoking, i rarely see you at parties and you got all this babygirl shit hung in your house,” he jokes, making you feign shock, looking around at the hello kitty and sanrio decor you owned.

“that’s so mean and it’s not babygirl stuff.” you fold your arms and cross your legs. “it’s hello kitty, she’s an icon.”

“come here,” he says, eyes low, shifting the subject.

“why?” you glare over at him, confused and surprised at the same time.

“if you’re not a good girl, come here.”

you hate how that made your panties dampen. you also hated that you scooted closer to him.

“nah, closer than that. i wanna see you.”

who did this man think he was? he came into your home, made fun of your decor and was now telling you what to do? and why were you listening to him?! it had to have been the weed making you like this. it had to.

your legs had a mind of their own as you flattened your skirt to climb into aaron’s lap. you can’t even ask if you're too heavy because aaron’s hand is cupping your cheek. your bottom lip is pulled between your teeth as you nervously scan over his face.

“you so damn pretty,” he whispers, voice low as it’s just the two of you right now. you’re taken aback at his statement.

“stoppp,” you groan, smiling shyly behind your hands, your cheeks warming up in the process.

“don’t act like you don’t know,” he chuckles. “i told you i’ve been watching you.”

“i know. i just didn’t think you looked at me like that.”

“how can i not? you got these long ass braids,” he toys at the beads on the end of your knotless. they rest against your butt and hips.

“that pretty ass smile,” you smile at the compliment, pink braces peeking through.

“and this body,” aaron doesn’t say anything else, he takes his time looking over you, his eyes low and tinted red, reading nothing but desire.

you turn your head away, the intensity of the conversation and his gaze too much for you. no man has ever talked to you like this, no man has ever looked at you like this. yeah, a few guys crushed on you throughout the years, but nothing came out of it and absolutely none of them were aaron. he was a man through and through and you enjoyed it. with a set of hands and feet exponentially larger than yours and while you were inexperienced, you knew exactly what it meant.

“can i kiss you, y/n?”

you nod timidly, facing him again, not letting this moment pass. aaron shakes his head before saying. “use your words, be a big girl.”

“yes, please,” you whine, desperate to feel his lips against your own.

running his thumb over your full lower lip, aaron pulls you closer by your chin until your mouth is near his. he takes a moment, looking over you to make sure this is what you wanted. your eyes filled with trepidation and a little bit of anticipation lets him know you want this as bad as he does. that despite your fears you were eager to spend the rest of the evening with him.

his lips finally collide with yours. your breath is caught in the back of your throat, back stiff from the heavy hand aaron provides, but you try to soften up—try to enjoy this serendipitous moment. one of the finest guys on campus was in your apartment holding your waist and kissing your lips.

aaron’s kisses were slow and methodical, almost like he sensed the nerves spreading throughout your body. he took his time kissing your lips, cheeks and neck. you moan softly at his tender mouth all over.

“aaron,” you whisper, toes curling when he starts to unbutton your brown ruffled blouse. “aaron?”

“yeah?” he replies, too entranced on the task at hand to look up at you.

“i…wanna take my time.”

the statement is vague, but aaron somewhat understands. “ill go slow. ill be gentle.”

he didn’t completely get it, so you say it full out.

“aaron, i’ve-i’ve never done this before.”

aaron pauses his actions and focuses on you again, eyes lowered and face twisted in confusion. “you’re a virgin?”

“yeah,” it’s so quiet that if he wasn’t reading your lips, he wouldn’t have heard you.

“yeah?”

you wanted to disappear. you wanted lighting to struck down in this room and blast you to another dimension. “i still want to try. i just don’t know what to do.”

aaron’s head presses into the couch, his eyes piercing into you now. the high you were on was slowly dissipating and your anxiety began to take place once more.

“you really are a good girl,” he heartily laughs, making you smack your lips and push away, falling back into the couch cushion you were previously sitting on.

“aye, aye, i’m playing.”

“it’s not funny,” you didn’t see the joke.

being a virgin at your age was tough. all your girlfriends had stories about their sexual endeavors and sneaky links, while the only encounters you had sexually were with your toys or your own hands. it was embarrassing, honestly. it certainly didn’t help when the one guy you were opening up to was in here cracking jokes like he stood on a def jam comedy stage.

“it’s not a bad thing,” aaron says, “you just a late bloomer.”

god, you didn’t expect the smoke session to take this big of a turn.

“plus i can teach you some things,” you sit up from your slumped position, interest piqued.

“you’re kidding.”

“anything for my best client,” he smirks, using your candle to light the rest of the unfinished blunt.

once it’s lit, aaron pulls you back into his lap, a yelp escapes your mouth at the quick action. this time your legs are wider as you straddle him, ankle length skirt bunched to your waist while his hard on pokes at your thigh.

“best client, huh?”

“you can’t tell?” he jokes, hinting at his growing erection before taking a hit from the wood. “i don’t get like this for everyone.”

you could definitely tell. his erection practically jumped each time you moved or talked. the outline of his print made your mouth water. he was huge. girthy and long. part of you wondered how he walked around with a weapon like that on him, the other part of you wanted to see it in all its glory.

“what can you teach me?”

“a lot. more than you could ever imagine.”

your hips begin to stutter. aaron’s hands rest on both sides of them, careful not to hurt you with the lit blunt, but also helping you start up a slow motion. your mouth falters open at the sensation of your taut clit bumping against his muscled thigh. you look down at yourself in amazement, the simple act mind boggling. you then look up at aaron, the man behind this madness. a lazy smirk plays on his face in response to your reaction.

“oh my god,” you whisper, lashes brushing against the round parts of your cheeks as your eyelids flutter close.

“feels good?” aaron’s deep voice brings you back to reality.

you nod feverishly, speechless at the naughty position you’re currently in. you were grinding your sopping pussy along the cloth of your cotton baby blue panties. the friction from the rough fabric and aaron’s hefty thigh made your body hot with need. you were gonna faint.

“take your time. take what you need, baby.”

he’s smug as a motherfucker. you loved it, craved it. he hits the half smoked blunt and exhales the heavy smoke, wafting it into the air, while your ass clenches with each roll of your hips. you can feel the way you dribble through your panties and onto aaron’s gray joggers. you're in disbelief that this basic contact has you falling apart so easily.

“oooh,” you whine, breaking into a cry as you smother your face on aaron’s chest. “you feel so—so good, oh my god.”

“that’s you, baby,” he chuckles so dark and low, it rumbles against your forehead. “you doing all the work. ‘m fucking proud of you.”

proud?

this fucking man was trying to end you.

but you weren't alone in this heated exchange, because aaron is hissing and groaning with each swipe of your pussy. you make contact with his restrained dick and it has him wanting to pin you down and make you his for the rest of the night, but he knows what you need and how you need it.

slow and steady.

aaron took his time and continued to push and pull your hips forward and backwards.

your speed begins to pick up, desperately needing this anticipated climax to wash over you. aaron grips a fistful of your skirt as he snatches away your blouse. he holds the lit blunt between his thin lips while he completes the indecent task. when your plump breasts are exposed, aaron makes it his due diligence to place the pebbled nipple in his mouth. it causes you to wail, tossing your head back in pure bliss.

“aaron, babyyy,” you’re gasping, eyes leaking with tears from overflowing emotions. the weed, your current cowgirl ride and his mouth and thumb flicking roughly alongside your breasts.

his whole hand wraps around your tit in an easy swoop, gripping the flesh and mouthing at it was the only thing in the world he'd needed. the blunt he smoked prior, now sat ashed out on the paper plate used earlier. you held his full undivided attention.

“you getting there,” he states it, not asking because he knows you're close. “shit driving me fucking insane. look at you, watch how you work.”

you open your eyes at his command, peering down to the scene below. a wet mess. two puddles form on the outside of aaron’s sweats. one from you and the juices you create and another from his leaking dick, dripping with precum as it strains through his pants.

“im gonna cum,” you whimper, mouth pulled into a pout as you hold a strong grip on his hoodie. “need you—need you, aaron, make me cum.”

aaron’s lips crash into yours again, holding you firm by both sides of your chubby cheeks, roughly kissing you. the thick heat of his tongue brushing against yours, and you can’t do anything but join him in the lewd movement, moaning high in the back of your throat. you sense the warm sensation of his callous fingers pulling back your panties as you continue to work.

“fucking look at you,” he groans, the sight of a pink uptight clit bumping along him makes his brain short circuit. “you needed this, didn’t you? you fucking needed me.”

you gasp, shaking your head frantically. you probably looked like a mad woman right now, but you couldn’t care less and aaron didn’t seem to mind one bit.

your back arches higher into his touch, pressing your chest to his, you come apart. the most anticipated orgasm of your life, hits you like a freight train. your thighs shake as you ride out the high of the escapade. gasping and heaving as aaron massages the small part of your back, calming your heightened system down.

“you okay, y/n?” he asks as you keep your head tucked away. you were fucking exhausted.

“yes,” you are still the shy thing he met hours ago. “im so sleepy.”

Clark is a big guy, not in comparison, he just is. 

body of pure mass and brawn, shoulders so broad you're sure they could cause an eclipse. his size to personality ratio is contradicting, you'd expect someone so large to be intimidating, daunting even. but he's nothing of the sort, he's the opposite really.

he's soft and gentle, he's eager to please. 

he's oddly ruly. and if you catch him in the right mood, he'd willingly become your little play thing.

and tonight you did, it wasn't hard really. you just have to give him some kisses and play with his hair, then he's putty in your hands. 

you sit behind him on the bed, against the headboard with clark in front of you, the back of him lounging lazily into your tits. he's sort of sprawled out, legs in a comfortable bend with his arms at his sides — hands seeking the skin of your thighs wrapped around his lower back. you're both completely bare, bodies nude to feel more of the other.

he's relaxed, chest rising and falling steadily, head tilted as it rests on your shoulder behind him. though that changes slightly when you snake a hand around to the front of him, curling it to graze at his sides. you're careful with your touch, fingers skimming him lightly so as to evoke a greater response from him. and it does, breath catches in his throat as he hums pleasantries, seeming to prefer gentle, featherlight touch from you. 

synopsis: the night you found out that beneath family cheer, the cheeky grin, silly antics, and quiet confidence tyriq is absolutely disgusting.

content: black!reader, holiday season, family introductions, intoxication, pet names, dirty talk, fingering, clit slapping, edging badd, finger sucking, p in v, counter missionary, cream pie, spit.

my whiney boy..

It’s felt like forever since you’ve shared that same room as tyriq.

A week of travel, early call times, press runs, podcasts tapings, and airports that all started to blur together. Leaving the two of you often on the opposite sides of the world, no time for dates. barely any time for calls and texts.

But Today? Today was easy and nerve wracking all at once.

Tyriq’s family house in Jacksonville is packed— warm with laughter, music, cousins wrestling somewhere in the back. Aunties cooking as if they were feeding a small army— the house smells like mac n cheese, collard greens, and a famous sweet potato pie.

The two of you barely stepped inside before you heard it.

“OHHHH, there she go! It’s the carpet girl y’all!” His older cousin waved you over with the biggest smile. “Baby you went viral! We saw that lil interview.”

“mhmmm— just cheesin’ like he ain’t ever seen a woman before.”

“Mmcht,” Tyriq groans, looking off with an embarrassing bite of his cheek. “Don’t start.”

“Camera ain’t do no justice, girl you just as gorgeous!”

“Nah tyriq run it back,” Another cousin chimes in, sneaking a piece of chicken on the side. “show us that lil two step.”

You cover your mouth, trying to stifle the giggle that slipped, everyone bursts out into laughter, as he dougies shamelessly throughout the kitchen. passing out hugs, daps, and kisses along the way. Making sure to introduce you properly.

Then his aunt rounds the marbled island, wiping her hands on a kitchen towel, giving you that look wiser black women give whether the two of you are good for one another.

“So missy.” Carefully placing those beautiful jeweled rings back on her finger. “you the one behind the video of him looking all bashful online?”

You nod shyly, “That might’ve been me.”

Auntie raises a brow. “ Hmm. You cute, I like your hair.”

“Come eat.”

Tyriq watches you go with her as he rounds up with the men, all of them dapping him uo and whispering the moment you’d gone far enough.

Hours pass. Plates are cleaned. The older folk start settling. The younger cousins turn the living room into a makeshift party with a bluetooth speaker and liquor someone most definitely didn’t pull from out grandma’s cabinet. You’re dancing with tyriq’s cousins in the middle of the room— The informal after party where everyone’s a little tipsy and the family home turns into a club.

You let yourself sink into the celebration after a long week— no cameras, no red carpet, no pressure to hose or smile a certain way. you were free for the weekend to be whoever you wanted to be in that moment.

It was just you.

Tariq’s family.

And a beat thrumming throughout your body.

The bass is heavy. The lights are dimmed, coiled tresses swinging with every move you make, and the liquor hits just right— loose, glowy, and warm in your belly.

It has your skin buzzing as you sway to the music. Slow rolling motions you only dance lie whenever you’re comfortable and tipsy. Hands trailing up your sides, fingertips brush at your soft curve of your waist, ribs, and neck. Eyes fluttering shit as you let the music take you.

Tonight was the freest you’ve felt in days.

Across the room rested tyriq, you didn’t notice at first but he definitely noticed you.

He’s posted up near the kitchen doorway, laughing with an uncle of his. No longer processing what was being said to him, everything blurring into nothing as he watches your hips away so swiftly. The shimmering glitter along your skin and neck, when it tilts back as you laugh. The way you touched your own body like the music was yours alone.

“Boy, close your mouth.” His cousin nudged him, “You starin’.”

Tyriq doesn’t even blink, rubbing the back of his neck with a laugh. “Mann, watch out.”

And when your eyes finally meet, you felt it.

The heat. The recognition. The slow hungry pull between two people that had been thinking about the other every damn day.

You smile softly— knowingly as you keep dancing.

Your friends of the night— aka his cousins— hype you up even more, spinning you around. Laughter bubbling up your chest when the men come in a start busting their moves.

Until you found him a few songs later, after his cousins peels off to grab drinks. You walk past his chair— hoping to get water, maybe another shot, but his hands grabs yours. Just enough to slow you down and let you feel the claim of his touch.

“You having fun?” He questioned, voice low and warm.

“Hmm, maybe..” you giggled, “I think you could use a bit more fun yourself boo.”

“You a little stiff in here..”

“Stiff huh?” He repeats with a low scoff, eyes dragging over your smooth peaking skin. Shaking his head with a slow grin. “You gon’ have to get me on your level then.”

You step closer, leaning in just enough that he can smell the holiday punch on your breath. “ain’t nothing to catch you up..”

“what you sipping on?”

“Whatever you having,” His tongue pushes against the inside of his cheek. A slow, dangerous smile spreading across his face. “however you wanna get me there..”

Instead of grabbing a drink himself, he keeps his eyes on you— Waiting. Expecting. Inviting. Strong hand wrapped around your thigh as he watches the bartender of the night slide you a sculpted glass. Filled with something smooth and golden just before turning back to him swirling the mixed concoction.

“open..” you whisper softly.

He blinks, his bluish green eyes meeting your curious brows. “Open what?”

You lift the glass, tipping it slight towards him.

“Your mouth tyriq…”

He knows exactly what you're doing— and he likes it. You slowly bring the glass to his lips, letting the liquid spill into his mouth. Still holding your gaze he slowly parted his reddened lips, revealing his white teeth and pink tongue.

Your gentle fingers guide the rim to them carefully, supporting the bottom of the glass with one hand. Meanwhile the other? It was occupied with hooking two fingers under this hinge of his jaw, tilting his head up just enough.

And he lets you— lets you take care of it.

He swallows the drink, the sweet taste spreading through his mouth, throat flexing under your fingers as the alcohol burned his throat. Never breaking eye contact.

All while you look at him like he’s the one you’ve been waiting on all week.

And when the glass is empty, you drag your hand down, that tortoiseshell manicured thumb brushes at the corner of his mouth. Rubbing a soothing circling into the warm skin of his cheek before patting it twice, with a satisfied smirk.

“good boy..”

Tyriq looks you over with a hungry bite of his lip, the purple of blue hues of light washing over him as it disco light bounced around the room, lips curving into a smirk. Settling into that low sectional again, legs spread, shirt wrinkled from the day, as the liquor courses through his veins.

He looks good— too fucking good. And your drunk enough, no needy enough, or was it just enough of both? To stop pretending you’re not thinking about him as much as you do.

So you climb into his lap.

Slow. Unhurried. Like you this was the exact placed you’ve wanted to be all night.

He inhaled sharply when your weight settles along his thighs, his hands instinctively gripping your hips guiding you exactly where he wants you. Hands mindlessly tracing down your sides, gliding against your curves before finally brushing at your feet— thumb brushing over your manicured toes. Your hands rest at his shoulders, sliding your fingers along the soft hairs resting at the nape of his neck.

Then you lean in.

Kissing his jaw first, the sharp line of it. Then lower, where his pulse thrummed against the soft delicate skin. Your lips open just the slightest— warm, slow, needy. His head tilts back, jaw tightening, eyes fluttering shut.

A shudder runs through him, a call of his name only gaining his attention for a brief second. A second to long in your hazed mind.

You don’t use words. Just a soft, spoiled little sound in the back of your throat as you lips graze along his skin. A whiny, needy plea that he’s only just discovered that you have.

“m’not going anywhere pretty girl..” Voice low and deep like a weighted murmur, lust simmering right beneath the sound.

Then you do it.

A quiet pouty look, lower lip caught between your teeth, brows soft damn near pleading. Placing another kiss to his neck, followed by a soft frustrated sound. fingers sliding up his chest— tugging at his chain, while your body dragged against him as if you could get any closer.

“you gon’ just keep sittin’ here poutin’ in my lap,” lifting your chin with two fingers, forcing you to meet his low gaze head on. “ or you gon’ tell me what you want?”

Your lips hover over his— close enough to taste the liquor he swallowed for you. Your head was light but the way tyriq’s fingers pressed into your hips made you feel so present— every inch of your body tuned into the drag of his hands.

You whisper, just barely audible.

“You..”

“Tyriq,” Your nose brushing his, lips ghosting over his mouth. “I want you..”

His pupils blow, eyes half-lidded, amused and aroused all at once. Giving you a look that shuts you up instantly.

He stands in one motion, taking you with him— legs wrapping around his waist before you even think. His hands gripping beneath your thighs, carrying you in his string hold. Family is still laughing, dancing, drinking, but none of it touches you.

You gasp against his neck as he carries you through the side hallway, ignoring the call of his name, or anyone who might be watching. Shouldering open the nearest door. It’s his old room. Dim. Quiet. The only sound is the distant bass from the living room and your quiet whimpers against his neck. He kicks the door closed behind him, locking it.

He drops you atop of the nearest dresser with a thud. Just hard enough to send a buzz to your already slicked clit. Your breath leaving in quick gasps when you back hits the cool surface of the wall.

He pulls you forward, hands grip your hips tighter, fingers digging into the soft flesh of your ass, pulling you right to the edge of the dresser. "You want me?"

You heart breaks wildly in your chest, small hands working up his strong arms— from the forearm up to his juicy biceps. “riq— your family..?” you questioned softly.

“nobody worried bout us..” His hands move from your hips to your back, pulling you closer until your chest presses against his. Your breasts pillowed perfectly against his hard chest, nipples pebbling through the thin fabric of your top. “I asked you a question..”

you nod, eyes dragging up to his, hazy and warm. full of drunken need, lingering too long in his mouth, his hands, his everything.

His hand moves to your face, thumb brushing against your bottom lip, pushing it down softly. He watches as your mouth parts slightly, tongue peaking out to wet your lips. He swallows hard, hand moving from your face to your throat.

"You been missin’ me that bad?".

You just smile— a smile that was slow, tipsy, and full of truth. Your lips ghost against his neck, pressing a wet kiss against the spot that made him groan softly. Tyriq tilts his head back slightly, exposing more of his throat to you. The sound rumbling through his chest like a purr.

You just smile— a smile that was slow, tipsy, and full of truth. Your lips ghost against his neck, pressing a wet kiss against the spot that made him groan softly. He tilts his head back slightly, exposing more of his throat to you. The sound rumbling through his chest like a purr.

His fingers curled around your throat, flexing in a slow squeeze that made your body grow hot, using that grip to guide you off his neck. His lips hovering just above yours, teasing and tormenting.

His breath mingles with yours, warm and sweet from the liquor. He doesn't close the distance between your mouths, instead his hands slowly inch upwards. Pushing up that sweater dress until they reach your lace underwear.

He looks at your mouth.

Then your eyes.

Then back to your mouth.

fingers hooking beneath the fabric and gently pulls it to the side. Whispering against your lips. "Tell me to stop.."

But you don’t— you can’t.

Your eyes stay locked on his. Both of you looking each other through the same warm haze, drinking each other in.

His fingers slowly trace along your slit, feeling the wetness that's already gathered there. He groans softly against your lips, still grazing. “s’wet for me…” He murmurs, fingers circling your clit lightly. He other hand ups your cheek, tilting your head back slightly. “open for me?”

Your mouth opens, his strong hand keeping your head tilted just right for him as you let out soft purrs below. His mouth hovering just above yours, trickling spit into your mouth. Tongue snaking out, catching the spit before it can fall down your chin and swallowing it back down, hand on your throat tightening slightly as his finger dips inside you, mouth parting beneath his with a sweet moan, quickly replacing it with a bite of your bottom lip to quiet yourself.

“You drunk..” he murmured against your mouth, his lips brushing against yours with every word. His gaze drops to your lips, watching the way they move as you breathe. As your tongue peeks out to wet your lips again. “Drunk as fuck ain’t you?”

A slow smile spreads across your face, chin slicked with his spit. Slurring out a hum, when he fingers grooves itself deeper into your pussy. He murmurs approvingly, adding another— stretching you out slowly.

His free hand moves to your hip, pulling you closer as his fingers curl inside of you, hitting that spot that made your eyes roll back. His thumb presses against your clit, rubbing slow circles. He nuzzles into the crook of your neck, breathing you in.

"You smell so good..."

You moan out, legs giving him a quick tremble when he finally found that spot. Walls sucking him in with a wet shlick, oozing out more slick off the sound of his voice alone. “feels s’good baby..”

"making my pretty girl feel good hm?" He hums against your neck, sucking a wet kiss there. He starts to slowly pump those fingers in and out of you, his thumb circling your clit in time with his thrusts. His voice drops lower, rumbling against your neck as he feels your walls sucking him in. "Pussy so wet for me…”

Your whine grew louder, hips meeting his fingers with every thrust. Ears growing hot as he brought you close to the edge. His lips finally meet yours in a sloppy wet kiss, tongue pushing into your mouth to taste you.

Your lips broke away first, lungs working overtime to catch the same breath that was being stolen from you. Chest rising and falling against his, the edges of bliss still trembling through you— hot, dizzying, almost too much.

and god you were so close.

That coil deep in your belly screwed tight around itself, ready to snap at any moment until it all disappears. Tyriq smirking against your lips, as he fingers slid out of your pussy. Eyes glued to your pretty face all the feelings that faded from it.

And he thought you wet so pretty like this— cheeks flushed, lips swollen, breath warm against his skin. Dizzy. Wanting. Trying to steady yourself.

“Nah..” He shook his head slightly, bringing his fingers to his mouth and sucking your juices off. His tongue curling around his digits, cleaning them off thoroughly. He leaned back in, lips hovering just over yours. "That ain’t what you been whining for all night.."

“Riq’ please…” You whine, your pussy was empty and clenching. His other hand moved to your inner thigh, slowly spreading your legs further apart, his thumb and forefingers, revealing your pretty little clit. His eyes flicked down between your legs before back up to your face.

He snaps his wrist, slapping it. Your back arches, mouth hanging opening,soundless. He smirks cruelly. Each smack of his fingers sends shockwaves through your body, keeping right on the edge. just how he wanted you.

Legs tensing when those thick digits swirl around your clit. Pussy pooling with slick, as your hands fumbled around him— pulling at his belt frustratedly. Tyriq watches with an amused smile.

“Tell me..” finally reaching down to help you with his belt. He undoes it slowly, watching your desperate state with amusement and hunger in his eyes.

“I already told you..” you whisper softly, tongue teasingly licked across his lips. “I want you.”

“I know..”

He murmured back. His lips brushing against yours with each word. He pulls away to pull his shirt off first, exposing his toned abs and muscular chest. He throws it somewhere across the room before he finally gets back to his belt. pushing his pants down just enough to free his thick dick— grabbing it by the base, giving it a slow stroke while looking down at your sticky pussy.

You watch him in awe, fingers tracing every curve, dip, of his chest and abs. The way his dick bobbed up and down, precum beading off that pink throbbing tip. practically begging to be touched.

He uses his free hand to push your dress up further, exposing more of your thick thighs. Sliding up the sides of your curvy waist, exposing your soft belly and hard nipples. His heavy eyes dragging over your body with a bite of his lip.

“See what you do to me?”

He whispers, tapping the head of his dick against your clit over and over. That beaded liquid mixing with your slick, making the most disgusting mess between your thighs. He steps closer, his hand wrapping around your thigh as he lifts it up and wraps it around his waist.

Your nearly folded, lip combo smeared sexily along his lips. Then he slides that fat tip over your buzzing clit,every ridge and vein of his dick pressing against the sensitive skin.

He watches as his dick slides through your slick lips, collecting more of that oozing wetness. Teasing your clit with just the tip, watching as it swelled and throbbed. “You want this dick?”

You hum, listening to the sound of your slick as it glides through your folds. Whining whenever he that fat tip barely dipped into your clenching pussy.

“Tell me you want it,” grabbing your chin, forcing you to look up at him. His gaze is stern, commanding. He watches as your pussy struggles to hold onto just the tip, clenching around it, hungry for more. Sinking just an inch before pulling out again. “That’s all you gotta say..”

“I want it so bad baby..” you whine out, both you eyes lingering on each other slow and unsteady. His hips finally press forward never sinking deeper more a few inches into that clamping hole of yours, dick so thick your pussy clung to it like a second skin.

Your fingers dig at the skin of his back, lips parting in sync as the both of you let out a relieved moan.

Each thrust is slow and steady, as he stretches you open wide. Eyes rolling back whenever he sinks to a full six inches, Watching you two toned pussy cover his dick in your wet slick. “Open her up f’me..”

He pulls out almost all the way, leaving just the tip inside. Pushing back in and hitting a spot inside that makes your legs tense around him.

“s-shittttt” you mewl, just as he sinks deep inside of you. Pelvis flush with his as your pussy welcomed him with loud slick squelch.

"Justtt like that.." He smirks, his hips starting a slow grind against your pelvis. His thick length rubbing against that spot inside of you with every roll of his hips. Keeping one hand wrapped around your leg, holding it open wide while he fucked you deeply with slow, controlled thrusts. Tapping that cervix then slowly pulling out to watch those pink gushy walls grip at his dick so tight.

His hands slide down your neck, over your shoulders until they reach your arms. He lifts them above your head, pinning them there with one large hand. Fucking you steady, feeding you every thrust that his body rolled against you.

His other hand wraps around your waist, pulling you even closer as he continues to fuck you deeply. His hips moving in slow, deliberate circles against yours, ensuring that every thrust hits deep, making that pussy open up perfectly. “This what you wanted? Hm?”

“nghhhh—yessss!” you whine long and hard, chest heaving to collect the same air tyriq knocked out of you. Thick dick dragging against your gushy walls. That pretty pout on your face that he never wanted to go away, “s’ fucking heavy daddy..”

“mhm heavy as fuck for my pretty girl." He pulls back slightly, looking down at where you were connected. Pelvis grinding against your clit with every downward stroke. Leaning down to kiss you deeply, swallowing every moan that left your lips.

And the kiss was so sloppy.

Your tongues mingling while he continued to stroke your pussy like he loved everything about you.

“oh. my. go— why are you fucking me like thisss?” you whined mid stroke, thick dick hittin so deep it made you drool. Strokes becoming more steady than slow.

Tyriq ignores you though, focused on the way your slicked pooled around his dick. Dripping every single time he pulls out before pushing right back into your hot pussy. Each thrust deliberate and deep, thumb finding your clit and swirling. “Shh, just feel it mama..”

And you did.

A pretty pout on your face as fucked every single inch into you, hitting so deep over and over. digging deeper than ever you’ve ever felt before.

“That’s a good fucking girl..” He groans, watching your pretty face contort with pleasure. His thick dick hitting so deep that your eyes watered slightly, the feeling overwhelming. Soreading your pussy lips apart, watching as he disappears completely inside you with each stroke.

“Fat ass pussy taking that dick..”

Tyriq had your thighs spread so far they burned.

Fat mushroomed tip slamming against your cervix, digging a creamy slick out of that gushy pussy. grabbing your legs and pulling them back until your ankles were practically touching his red ears. opening you up impossibly wide.

“so fucking messy, just look..”

“m’ bout to cum daddy” His fingers wrap messily into your big curls, pulling your head forward to watch as he strokes that pussy slow and deep. That white cream drowning his dick, milky white slick leaking where the two of you were connected. “nghhhh—”

It was becoming too much for the both of you.

"ouuuuu— fuckkkk.." He moans.

Deep and begging as he starts to fuck you faster, harder, deeper. The wet sounds of your pussy echoing in the room in the most filthy ways.

You were just so fucking wet, messy, and taking every inch like you wanted to be full of him. His head falls back, eyes rolling as you swallowed all eight inches. losing himself in your pussy.

“shittttt” He a moaning mess, watching your pussy eat his dick up greedily, squeezing his base everytime his pelvis met yours. Every thrust hitting something deep inside of you that made you moan and whine loudly. His heavy balls slapping against your ass with each thrust. "This fucking pussy gon make me nut..."

“Unt-uh..” you whine out, legs trembling in his strong calloused hands, leaving crescent marks as they digging into your thighs. Roughly cupping his face stubbled jaw, “Keep those pretty eyes on me..”

He whines, his eyes snapping back to yours. Watches as your mouth drops open in pleasure— your hair wild, breasts bouncing with each thrust, lips parted and sexy as fuck. Then he drops that dick, making your pussy spurt out a stream. Breaking down that damn that left you squirting on his dick.

“ouuuuu— fuck mommy. give me that shit”

splattering all over his abs and dick, washing away the milky white cream that covered his dick only seconds ago.

Filling you up with the most whiney, pathetic moan.