ms good fish

ever since the night of the 1980s grammys, your relationship had been rewritten into something insatiable.

you had both come home riding the high of the awards and lost your virginities to one another, and god, did that unlock a monster.

they always say that once you finally cross that line, it changes your body completely.

it was true.

giving your innocence to one another didn't satisfy the craving; it only made the hunger twice as bad.

now that your bodies knew exactly how good it felt to fuse together, the physical need for each other had become an actual addiction.

it was like a switch flipped, and suddenly neither of you could get enough of each other. you were just as obsessed with him as he was with you, but michael was so much worse at hiding it.

he would literally whine and beg to take you, his voice cracking with a needy pitch that left him embarrassed afterward – yet he just couldn't help himself.

he got hard the absolute second you crossed his mind.

sometimes that desperation got so overwhelming – so violently thick between you, that there wasn't even time to pull your clothes off. he’d get so needy that he would grab you by the waist, dragging you onto his lap to straddle him.

you’d both start humping against each other like animals in heat, grinding together with a feverish friction that left you both mewling into each other’s necks as you chased the relief. 

your underwear would already be drenched, soaked through with your slick arousal. michael would lose his mind at the wetness of it, his hips jerking uncontrollably against yours, fucking into you harder and harder until he’d choke out a broken cry as you both came, soaking right through your clothes.

it was a constant, beautiful torment for him.

frequently, you’d wake up in the dead of night to the heavy press of his weight. he’d be trapped in the grip of a vivid wet dream, his long fingers subconsciously wrapped around your waist to anchor you tightly against his hips.

hearing his frantic breaths and the desperate whines vibrating against your neck, you'd reach up to gently run your fingers along the ends of his curls, softly whispering his name to pull him out of it.

he’d wake up with a shudder, his movements coming to an abrupt halt. the second he realized he’d been dry-rutting you in his sleep, he’d squeeze his eyes back shut and bury his face deep into your shoulder, his skin burning hot.

"’m sorry," he’d mumble, sounding embarrassed.

“‘s okay, baby” you’d whisper, stroking his hair to settle him as you reached back down between your bodies, your fingers slipping under his waistband.

michael would let out a gasp at the contact, his body locking up tight. he’d be too embarrassed to say anything else, just letting out a small, needy whimper as his hips instinctively jerked forward into your palm, his body quivering as he shot his cum straight into your hand.

and it didn't matter how public or innocent the setting was; his mind was entirely corrupted by you.

just a few weeks ago, during a particularly hot day by the pool, the backyard had been full of his siblings laughing and playing music. you had been sitting on the edge of a lounge chair, completely oblivious, casually eating a blue popsicle to stay cool.

across the pool, michael had been completely hypnotized.

he watched the way your lips wrapped around the popsicle, his chest tightening as his mind drifted to how good it felt when you hollowed your cheeks to suck him just like that, or how incredibly filthy it would look to see his creamy white cum dripping against the bright blue stain on your tongue.

his eyes dragged down, eyeing just how good your body looked in that swimsuit, fiending over the sight of you.

he couldn't stop staring at your soft curves, his gaze locked onto how plump your ass looked pressed against the lounge chair. 

he felt so dirty – so guilty for thinking that way about his sweet, precious girlfriend, but the blood rushed straight to his dick so fast it made his head spin. he just couldn’t seem to look away.

it could be something as sweet as you gently playing with his curls, absentmindedly tracing shapes on his chest while cuddling under a blanket, or even just the mere scent of your perfume. all of it – every single little thing you did – had him losing his mind.

whenever you caught him like that – feeling the thick length of him pressing against you during a simple hug – you couldn't resist teasing him.

you’d shift just enough to grind subtly against it, whispering a soft, teasing comment about how bad he wanted you, even though the sheer sight of his needy state made your own thighs rub together, completely soaked with the knowledge that the slightest thing you did could turn him like this.

which was kinda how you ended up in this predicament tonight.

you were standing by the edge of the dining room, just listening to the loud chatter of the family gathering, when you felt the unmistakable warmth of michael hovering right behind you.

without speaking a word, he leaned over your shoulder, pressing a soft kiss against your jawline before trailing a slow path down the sensitive skin of your neck.

your stomach flipped. you quickly looked around the crowded room, your heart hammering against your ribs as you tried to make sure no one was watching.

"michael..." you whispered, your voice a nervous warning as his mouth sank right into the crook of your shoulder.

he didn't care.

he didn't even look up at the crowd, engulfed by the scent of your skin. his fingers slipped down to lock tightly with yours, his palm burning hot as he gave an insistent tug and started guiding you away from the room. you obviously didn’t object. you wanted him just as bad.

so you swallowed hard, letting him lead you quickly past the noise of the hallway and straight up the steps.

the second you crossed the threshold of his bedroom, the door clicked shut, wasting no second to lock it.

michael didn't even give you a second to breathe before he was pressing you back against the wood.

he leaned in, his lips finding yours in a kiss that started out deceptively gentle. it made you melt against him, but it only lasted for a heartbeat.

you let out a soft sigh, and his tongue took advantage of that, pushing past your lips. he completely consumed your mouth, his tongue deep and demanding as it slicked over yours with an uncoordinated hunger.

you could hear the wet, sloppy friction of your lips sliding together, the heat of his saliva slicking your chin as he tilted your head back to get a deeper angle.

he swallowed your quiet gasps as his mouth tasted you, his tongue stroking yours with heat. you mewled into his mouth as your thighs shifted together, trying to relieve the ache between them.

“michael–” you tried to gasp out, your hips jerking forward to grind against his cock.

he interrupted you, muffling the sound of your voice under another kiss, his mouth sliding hungrily over yours. you managed to pull your mouth away from his, your breaths coming in ragged pants.

“michael, wait– they’re gonna notice we’re gone,” you breathed out, your head tilting back against the door to look up at him.

he didn’t care though, his eyes were glued to your mouth. instead of answering, his lips dropped to your neck. he sucked hard, bruising the sensitive skin under your jaw, leaving a mark that will definitely darken later. his tongue lapped at your skin as a moan escaped your lips, which only drove him crazier. your moans alone were pulling guttural groans from his chest.

his hands were all over you.

his long fingers dug bruisingly into your waist, anchoring you tight before his palms slid down, his large hands roughly cupping the plump flesh of your ass through your clothes and lifting you slightly to grind his rock-hard cock right into your dripping center.

a breathless whimper tore from his throat into your mouth, his grip tightening as his hands slid back up your torso, his palms slipping hungrily under your shirt to map out every inch of your bare skin.

he was squeezing your waist, his thumbs tracing the curve of your ribs, utterly fiending for the feel of you as the kiss grew messier.

“oh god, baby, please– need y’so bad,” he gasped out against your lips.

michael's hands slid down your sides to hook firmly under your thighs. he hoisted you right up off the floor, your legs locking around his waist. keeping you anchored against his chest, he stumbled away from the door, his long legs moving quickly across the room towards the bed.

he leaned forward, laying you down flat on your back as he climbed over you, his frame crowding over yours. he was breathing like he’d been running, his fingers shaking as he hooked them into the hem of your shirt.

"take it off, baby. lemme see you," he rasped.

he yanked it up and over your head in one clumsy motion, tossing it onto the floor. you didn't wait either, your hands scrambling to take his shirt off, peeling the fabric off his shoulders.

you planted your open palms firmly against his bare chest and gave him a push, catching him off guard just enough to roll him over onto his back, shifting your weight so you were the one straddling his lap.

your hands flew down to your waist, quickly peeling your bottoms and underwear off your legs and kicking them away entirely.

sitting bare on top of him, you felt his throbbing cock pressing perfectly against your soaking core through his jeans.

“need to be inside you,” he rasped.

you reached down to unbuckle his belt and pop the button of his pants, shoving the denim down his hips just enough to let his length spring free. his cock was obscene – flushed dark, with veins raised under the skin, the tip slick with precum.

you leaned your weight forward, holding yourself up with your hands as you ground yourself over him, a slow slide from the base of his cock all the way to the wet tip.

the friction was dizzying.

the contrast of his searing heat rubbing directly against your sensitive, soaking folds felt so overwhelming, sending a wave of electricity to the pit of your stomach.

michael looked like he was losing it beneath you. his head rolled back into the pillow, his jaw locked tight as his chest heaved for air. he could feel every single ridge of his cock being squeezed and slicked by your wetness.

"baby, please... you're killing me," he choked out, his voice strained with desperation.

his fingers dug bruisingly deep into the flesh of your hips, his knuckles turning white as he completely lost his grip on his self-control. "i can't... i can't take it– need to feel you..."

before you could grind against him a third time, his large hands clamped down hard on your waist, halting your movement. with an upward thrust of his hips, he guided his tip and buried himself all the way inside you in one deep push.

your head snapped back, a loud, high-pitched moan ripping from your throat that michael quickly caught by throwing his hand over your mouth, his own body trembling violently as he filled you completely. he let out a shuddering groan against your neck, his eyes squeezed shut in ecstasy.

"y'have to be quiet, sweetheart" he choked out, his hips twitching inside you as he adjusted to the heat of your core.

the sensation of being buried deep was too much to handle.

a broken whine tore from his throat as his body took over, entirely overriding his brain.

he completely lost control of his hips, his lower body jerking up against yours in frantic, uncoordinated twitches. his cock pulsed within your gummy walls before he could even find a rhythm.

"can't– baby, i can't stop," he panted, his eyes completely blown out.

michael gripped your waist and pushed you backward, forcing you flat onto your back. you let out a squeal as his large hands slid down to hook under your knees, lifting your legs high and draping them over his shoulders.

he let out a high, pathetic mewl at how incredibly tight you felt from this angle, his face flushing a deep red.

he didn't waste another second.

gripping your hips for leverage, he began fucking into you, slamming his pelvis against yours with a frantic urgency.

the bedroom filled with a symphony of filthy noises. loud schlick, schlick, schlick sounds echoed with every thrust, his cock dragging a creamy ring of mixed precum and your own arousal out before plunging right back inside.

the lewd sound of skin slapping against skin was deafening. every single time he slammed flush against you, his pelvis hit perfectly against your clit.

both of you were miserably failing to muffle your noises. the force of his desperate ruts was so intense that the headboard began slamming violently against the wall.

any thought of staying quiet was completely forgotten. despite his own warning, michael was far too gone to care anymore, letting out loud, unbridled whines with every slam of his hips.

"ah... god, you're soakin' through the sheets, baby," he rasped. "milkin' me so hard... it's so wet, makin’ such a mess."

hearing those vulgar words come out of his usually polite mouth made a hot blush rise to your cheeks. a thrill shot through you, causing your walls to instinctively squeeze around him.

"m-mike, michael," you stammered out, your voice cracking, completely breathless as your head thrashed against the mattress. you were so overwhelmed by pleasure that you could barely mutter coherent words. "you feel so fucking good–"

the words dissolved into a high whine as he gave a particularly deep thrust right into your sweet spot.

it felt so heavenly, the pleasure was so intense, that hot tears slipped from the corners of your eyes and dripped down your temples.

his pace sped up even more, his curls damp with sweat as he looked down at you like you were his entire world.

"’m so close, mikey, please," you whined, your hands tightly clawing at his bare shoulders.

michael let out a broken moan at your begging, a breathless sob tearing from his throat. he looked so overwhelmed – almost in pain from how good it felt.

"gonna give it all t'you, baby. every single drop," he choked out.

he didn't slow down for a single second. the headboard battered against the wall as he buried himself to the hilt.

michael went rigid after he gave one final thrust.

a high, broken cry tore from his throat, his head dropping onto your shoulder as his eyes squeezed shut.

the first rope of his cum shot out of him with a pulsing force, flooding your womb.

michael let out a trembling sob against your neck, his fingers digging bruisingly deep into your thighs as his cum spurt inside you in heavy ropes, painting your insides, filling every single fold and crevice until you were overflowing with his seed.

the volume of it felt endless, coating your walls and sending a wave of pleasure that triggered your own climax.

"baby, baby, baby," michael whimpered as his hips continued to twitch helplessly against yours.

he was spent, his chest heaving heavily against yours as he melted into you.

even as the spurts slowed, he didn't pull away.

he collapsed into the crook of your neck, his face buried deep as his skin burned hot. he let out small, shuddering breaths as the creamy mixture of his cum and your slick slowly began to leak out from between your thighs, cementing the mess you had made together.

michael shifted slightly, lifting himself up on his elbows just enough to look down. his gaze drifted to where you two were still joined, staring right at the thick white mixture slowly oozing out onto the sheets as he pulled out.

"you're so nasty, michael," you teased, though you couldn't take your eyes off it either.

michael huffs out a breathless laugh, biting his bottom lip as a deep blush rushes to his cheeks.

"you're lookin' too," he mumbled softly.

"but you looked first," you countered with a soft laugh, fingers gently tracing at the nape of his neck as he shook his head at you.

once the silence of the bedroom settled over you both, the house suddenly felt terrifyingly quiet.

michael shifted slightly, his cheek pressing against your shoulder. he blinked for a second, the fog in his brain clearing just enough for the stillness of the house to register.

"christ..." he breathed out. "do y'think they heard that?"

you let out a weak laugh, your hands playing with the ends of his hair. "michael, you literally slammed the bed into the wall for like fifteen minutes straight."

he raised his hands, hiding his face as his skin burned a bright red. "don't say that... oh, god, please don't say that. we're never going back downstairs."

───୨ৎ────────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ───

sorry i always get carried away w/ sub!michael

also i edited this like 8 times n i got sick of rereading so if anything sounds off PLEASE let me know n ill take a look

thanks for reading :pp

Greek life swarmed around you at a young age whether you liked it or not. From the time you could walk on two feet you were draped in red with the highest hopes from your mother to continue her legacy. So when you broke the news that you had no interest in crossing you could only imagine how many times she swore up and down she'd disown you but you knew the jokes were out of love. Partially.

Attending college was out of the question in your household whether you went to an HBCU online or on campus you were going to do something for the next four years. As one mom would do to any child of hers going to her old college, she prepped you with all of your supplies, ran her mouth over the college tour guide and gave her own rendition of what went down in each hall and last but surely the most memerable part of her grand speech before sending you off, she simply asked, no begged you to stay away from those Ques.

Your father must've been one the way she battered that statement into your head, all through highschool, all through middle school, warned you in front of the Que plot at the college!

"I don't wanna see you near it!"

"Mama, they leaving us behind!"

"I got people that work out here, they'll tell me!"

You swore to her not to interact, to breathe, let alone think about anything in purple and gold, don't even wear the color. She made it seem like you were signing yourself for a horror movie but you kept up your promise and skated through two years of straight A's, too many sleepless nights and managed to have a decent party life without ending up on anyone's hit list.

Another semester appeared on the campus of Canvas Town University and you snagged one of the best apartments right across the street with your roommate Liyah. You and her had the idea to move in after she had crossed into her sorority so the two of you wouldn't lose touch with one another due to her newly found sisters. Her heart was smashed once you told her you had no interest but you fully supported her during her presentation and went all out decorating her room.

Did you go to the party afterwards? Absolutely not. Why? When there's Delta's there's Ques and even a whiff of one can cause enough damage to fuck up your mental and you didn't wanna take any chances. Liyah couldn't understand what was so dangerous about them, during freshman year she would crack up watching you turn in the opposite direction anytime you heard a bark or seen anything in the color purple. At first she thought it was a joke but once she saw how serious your face was when you were impersonating your mother, she understood why you couldn't make it.

"I think she's just worrying you'll make the same mistakes she did, you gotta let that go.." Liyah snickered, tying up her shoes.

"I'm only staying for a song maybe two! If i stay too long one of them might scoop me up."

"What's wrong with that?" Yasmin yelled from the bathroom, taking pictures in the mirror. "I haven't had any problems!"

"You cried for the first 2 weeks he disappeared what are you talking about?" You spat back.

"Mind you Jaden hasn't even crossed yet, you just getting started." Liyah giggled to herself, putting on her red jacket. "You don't have to go to the probate but I'm coming back to take you to the party, you get the best videos of me."

"Oh that's all I'm good for? You not worried for my well being?"

"Don't stare too hard then, you made it this long right? Oh and what's your name for the night since you going undercover.." She snickered, waltzing over to the door to wait for Yasmin.

"N/n like usual.."

"I can't believe you still using that knowing you on the dance team, captain at that!" Yasmin rolled her eyes with a scoff still posing in the mirror.

"N/n got you into Sho's place last year! Unless you wanted to pay 60 to get in!"

"I'm not dealing with ya'll silly asses, I gotta be there early. Yasmin I'm in the car!" She shouted, grabbing her collection of keys to head to the door. Your friends knew this routine down to the youtuber you would throw on your TV, you laid back at the dorm while they had the time of their lives at Oil Spills, pool parties while you avoided the yard every chance you got, however tonight Liyah and Yasmin had better plans for your itinerary this year, starting with your 'first' Greek party.

By the time they were on the way back, you'd finished the last details on the dress you were sewing together made out of a really cute top you thrifted. It hung off of your shoulder and you made a few extra pieces of clothing to go along with it including a (f/c) you customized on a whim and a purse you crocheted. You topped the look off with some wrap around heels hearing the door unlock once you finished tying them off.

"You ready?"Liyah called to you.

"Let's go before I change my mind.." You scoff, wasting no time to scurry out of her way before she made any slick comments.

When you arrived to the house you were expecting the place to be packed with people filling up the lines but the most you saw were a few folks hanging around outside. You forgot to pregame at the house which meant spending an arm and almost a leg to get a buzz although you set a mental limit. A drink and a shot to celebrate Jaden, that's it and that's all. The short car ride over didn't make it any better, you were sober and paranoid that your mama had older friends specifically watching you like a hawk!

Your nerves were shot hearing your heels clicking on the pavement, a few men draped in purple and gold were heading towards their car slowly walking past your group earning some jeers and a couple laughs.

"Ease up girl, got your knees locked up please don't pass out in front of these people.." Yasmin said with a tap on your shoulder.

"I'm not! I should've brought a jacket or a liquor coat at least. Did you get any pictures of Jaden?"

"Nah I got videos and I'm screaming in every one of them, his head is so damn big-"

"Jabber shaved him clean it look like his work.." Liyah snickered, inching closer to the front where ladies got in free and the men had to pay so getting inside was the easy part. You walked past at least 10 of them without any issues, keeping your head up and following Liyah who had to greet everyone and find her sisters, leaving you and Yasmin to find where they were selling the liquor.

Pregaming should've been the decision once you saw what they were charging for the drinks, you were kind enough to buy the first round for the girls but your refund wasn't about to spent on cheap liquor.

"40 lovebug.." The girl tapped on screen.

"Well shit.." You scoffed, tapping your card on the reader, looking over to Yasmin grabbing her own drink, pausing a moment before putting it up to her lips.

"Forty dollars?! We could've gotten a bottle for that.." She grumbled, walking off with her face scrunched up from the bitter taste. The building was packed full to the brim, people were shoulder to shoulder watching all of the other sororities stroll while the others mingled and partied. You waved over to the DJ who you knew from freshman year. The crazy blonde nodded back at you while you sipped the sharp contents in your red cup.

"You seen Jaden yet?" The frantic woman asked, hopping on her tiptoes to see above the crowd.

"He should be over there like every other bald nigga in here I'm sure.." You snickered, taking a small gulp out of your cup, clinging onto Yasmin like a lost puppy through the crowd towards the front where you found Jaden and his new brothers showing off.

The ground shook as the boys hopped around in sync, spinning around tossing up their hooks to their heads, a sight you knew all too well. That's when then music lowered and one od the new initiates calmed the crowd down so they could show everyone the information they had learned.

Yasmin pulled out her phone immediately the flash hitting him in the face though he didn't budge, the boys shouted and sung their hearts out, not once messing up a single word and somehow got a laugh out of you. Once they were finished, your cup of tequila ran dry and your social battery wasn't far behind it seeing the room flood not just with new initiates but older Ques as well.

Song 1

The color pink glanced over your vision and of course you assumed one of the LED's has switched over or one of the AKAs took over the lighting department either way it bothered you enough to the point where you turned your head around to find where it was coming from, not that you wanted to explore a que party. It was bad enough you heard your mother's voice screaming at you to leave but you knew that if you came as a group then you left as a group. That rule went out of the window once you realized Yasmin left you to find her boyfriend, you turn in the other direction towards where Liyah was strolling her ass off with her sisters, there was no excuse to go off and record since she wasn't leading it.

The obvious choice here would be to push off to the bar, grab a refill and wait for somebody you recognize but with how jam packed the crowd of women became you were damn near frozen in place as all of the shaven heads disappeared from the floor, making room for the Pros to showcase what they've been doing for years.

Girls were bumping into you parting the dancefloor all dramatic like it was the red sea earning a few scrunches to your face. The DJ mixed in a slower song and the loud shrills of women slowly erupted hearing the gruff sounds of barks coming from the back, a long line of purple and gold pooling in. Some were wearing their letters, some of them weren't wearing anything at all! You were standing next to a group of girls recording a tall man with a fresh taper fade smile towards the camera, another one with waves, it was like you were being attacked from all sides of the field! He continued on with the rest of his brothers and soon enough a widely known chant thundered through the room.

The woman in there knew the chants better than they did!

You couldn't lie and say some of them weren't nice to look at but the only thing you could hear in this moment was your mama making you swear to never set foot on Que property let alone be at a Que party! All you had to do was walk off but a commotion of noise, a nicely mixed DJ set and a glimpse of what looked like pink caught your attention.

Long, thick locs swung near your peripherals decorated in gold jewels glimmering off of the cameras flashing in his way. He was dipped in sweat due to the intoxicating heat swelling up in the building and the one suddenly forming between your thighs. A small shudder scorched down the spine of your back eyeing the gold chain sitting around on his neck, they scanned his tattoos on his right arm leading up to his chest. That signifying branding marked his left shoulder. You found out that the source of the pink was coming from him once you noticed his eyes heavy lidded and fuchsia pink like a laser beam. His hands were veiny and thick covered with rings wearing camo pants with the waistband of his boxers showing up just above his belly button. He carried a hefty happy trail along with his v line not too sharp but just enough to imagine laying your own tongue on it.

The way he moved not only did it call your attention, you felt like a snake being hypnotized by a purple and gold flute. A big, locced purple and gold flute.

He hopped closer, stomping the ground so hard with his boots, you even watched his shoe tongue flap with each movement you didn’t wanna miss a single detail, yet you were missing the biggest red flag of the evening. You go to lift your head to see that same pinkish glow connect instantly to your vision and your body ran hot.

The line paused right in front of you, holding the gaze for what felt like minutes. The sweaty bastard had the nerve to lick his grills showcasing a silver piercing sitting right in the middle barking at you with a smile. A sharp, gold plated smug smile. All of the women around were hollering his name and soon enough a chant had started again due to the man of the hour swinging his neck in your direction, like he was speaking directly to you.

Everyone knew the words. You knew them too.

You knew them yet your lips never parted, fearing that this was how they caught their prey, yet you didn't look away. You didn't want too. Keeping up a safe face, the pink eyed stranger moved along with his brothers down the line and you kept your eyes locked onto his frame, blinking yourself back to normal and few girls bumping into you to follow them along. You had one mission only, find your friends and get the hell on. You weren’t supposed to be here especially in the front row like a buzzard! 

"Over here Y/n!" You heard your friend call with her arm covered in bracelets waving around in the air. You used her noisy arm to guide you to where they were, going to the man of the hour who finally had a moment to breath.

"Aye Congratulations! You made it out!" You exclaimed, giving your friend a big hug, wiping some of the sweat off of his bald head.

"I appreciate it.." He said with a sigh.

"You tired ain't you?"

"And the night's not over yet.." He said with a chuckle receiving a large pat on his back from a familiar face.

"Yeahhh That's right Ace!" A voice barked.

"Oh yeah, N/N this is Jabber! He's the president of this chapter." Her eyes narrowing in a way.

"We've met.." His voice cutting through the music.

"Have we?"

"Excuse me where are my manners?" He snickered holding out his tatted hand to give you a proper introduction. His demeanor was lighthearted with a sense of goofiness wavering over you causing your face to painfully pull into a smile.

"I'm Jabari Wonger, president of this chapter of Omega Psi Phi Fraternity Innnncorporated majoring in Chemistry with a minor in Psychology.." He spoke proudly, recognizing the cadence of his words. You were silently wishing you could launch the back of your hand right into Liyah's snickering face knowing she had something to do with this.

"Nice to meet you Jabari..I'm N/n.." You said, skipping over the details hoping to end this interaction so you could make your way to the door.

"Alright n/n now we've met properly, what you babysitting in that cup?" His accent thicker than the humidity.

"It was tequila."

"Oh nah nah come with me I got something for you, ever had a cup of oil?" Jabber smiled, flashing those grills once again.

"Oil?"You questioned while Yasmin and Liyah giggle to themselves eyeing your reaction. You knew a few things about Greek life but clearly not enough if everyone else wasn't as clueless as you.

"It's good we promise, I'll get some with you." Yasmin said, walking closer to hold onto your arm.

"One cup.."

"That's all you'll need.." He said with a smirk, nodding his head in the direction of the kitchen. He held out his hand earning shocked looks from the girls, they swatted their hands at you to take it and you shook your head no before he looked back.

"You coming?"

~ Song 2

Walking into the kitchen like area people were standing around what looks like a big ass cooler sitting on the island filled with black liquid and various fruits floating around the mixture. People had their cups out waiting for one of the Ques to pour them a cupful, just once glance at the intoxicating mix made your stomach churn, it had enough alcohol into it to convert Wiz to be an alcoholic.

Jabber dapped up the man pouring the drinks, moving him out the way so he could take over grabbing you a fresh cup from the stack to dip it inside, filling its contents almost to the brim. You looked at the tatted man handing you the cup immediately looking back to your friends waiting patiently to get theirs with eyes that said "What the fuck do you have me drinking?"

He poured the girls some and like magic they disappeared back into the crowd once again leaving you in his presence. It was one thing to be a wing woman and leave you alone to do your thing but it's completely different when the thing you were trying to do wasn't working and that was to LEAVE!

"Here I'll take a sip with you.." Jabber said knocking you out of your long continuous train of thought. You watched his adam's apple bob up gulping it down like it was ice cold water, peering back to you taking a full sip, pursing your lips to mask your face from the kicking you in the mouth.

"This shit taste like.."

"Like juice I know.." He paused. "Where yo letters at?" He spoke up, his eyes scanning your physique looking around for any paraphernalia or anything attached to your bag with a sorority on it.

"I ain't affiliated I'm not in that life, strictly GDI.. You snicker, your pupils locked onto the black liquid as you sipped its contents.

"In that life.." He chuckles. "Indecisive or you focused on something else?"

"I don't wanna see you near 'em! It's nothing but trouble with all of 'em! Promise me Y/n!"

"Indecisive, my mama's a Delta and she's pushing for it.."

"Okay future Legacy..I saw them eyes don't think I forgot about that.."

"About what?" Your cheeks pulling at a hard smile.

"You know what I'm talking bout, yo jaw still out there.." His slick gold plated smile making another appearance in the low lit bar area. "One of yo boyfriends made the line or-

"I'm here for my friend it ain't even like that I don't mess around with 1911.." You shut him down quick chuckling at your own joke

"So I've heard.." His hot pink eyes dancing from your lips to your pupils, licking his own to stop him from biting them. The colors of the LEDs flashed on his skin as he talked and it would be a lie if you said you weren't following his every movement, the way he swayed leaning his back on the kitchen counter peering down at you. You weren't tiny but his figure made it seem like he could swallow the entire room with his energy alone, there was no way you could keep up the eye contact yet Jabber had his ways of keeping you focused on him. The air was thick and sharp due to the liquor you were standing right beside, the music was loud but not to where you couldn't hear yourself think but what would be the point? Words didn't make sense in this split second of a moment, your mind was flooded with images of him slinging his tongue around and that was enough to convince you that his powers were working.

"…but I promise you I've seen you somewhere else.." His words coming through like your ears has been unplugged.

"I'm not even on campus enough for you to see me you can't use that on me.." You laughed with him, his long locs moving along his body as he swayed.

"It's hitting you like that?" You joked.

"Oh I'm two cups down you gotta catch up lil mama..wait I ain't get your na-"

Song 4-7

Another song queued up in the atmosphere as Jabber's question fell on silent ears once his head leaned back knowing he had to find his brothers. You peered behind him to see a few of the organizations line up and in the crowd you spotted Liyah front and center knowing that this was your escape route to get out but a strange part of you wanted to linger around in his presence. Whether it was the liquor or not you hated to admit he was clever with his words and corny enough to make your sides hurt.

"You gon keep an eye on me?"

"Not this time..but you'll see me somewhere."

"Imma get that dance." Jabber smirked, creating an inside joke and knife deep tension in the air.

You only gave a smile at him, walking off into the crowd towards Liyah letting out a deep breath of relief. You did the deed! You spoke and had a conversation with a man in purple and gold and didn't die. Part of you knew it was silly and kinda corny to be this paranoid but the other part had it's reasons

It's stupid, outdated reasons.

You pushed through the neos and made your way to the Pros with your phone out ready to record on the sidelines still sipping that oil in your cup suddenly tasting like sharp juice.

A familiar voice made your skin jump once you heard Jabber and his brothers coming from the other direction, you kept your camera steady on Liyah throwing her elbows hard enough to crack a nostril, you learned your lesson real good last year when she crossed not to get too close.

Step by step, one hop after the other he inched closer, it was starting all over again but this time you were determined to get your footage and move on with Liyah right out the door. You quickly got back in the line of people saving all of your clips looking down a second too long seeing the sea of red fade into a pool of purple and there he was right in the middle throwing his hook in the air and shaking his neck as his locs flung around. It was impossible to look away especially when that comforting color of pink filled the atmosphere.

One of the men stepping along the room went in the crowd and swooped a girl right off her feet, hopping her to the groove of the song and then another followed by a quick yelp each time, now that comforting color of pink blared into a fiery red, your heart changed up it's pattern thudding in your chest like a beat up fan.

Jabber had set his target in stone.

One second you were on the ground and the next you felt weightless watching the angle of all the cameras change. Your legs wrapped around his waist like it was an instinct and you didn't know if you wanted to shield your face from all the eyes or focus on him but Jabber made that choice for you.

The way his voice rattled in your chest as slung his tongue around his lips, saying the words with a growl tucked in his throat. It didn't help that your heat was pressed up against his toned stomach and every time he jumped you went right along with him slightly grinding against him.

His sweat marked your dress like a souvenir and that same smoky scent covered your lungs like you were being hypnotized by a baked good. You wanted to see if he tasted just as sweet, the oil was doing exactly what it was supposed to do, lubricating your walls and allowing that glossy look to wax over you.

Your arms nestle around his neck and you couldn't contain your own giggles and smiles any longer and soon enough he sat you back down on your two heels at the end of the line but some of his brother kept their girls in the air toting them around like trophies.

"Told you I'd get it.."

"That ain't funny! And it doesn't count we wasn't dancing."

"Show me what we 'posed to do.." His eyes flickering up and down.

Everyone in the room ha spread out and went off into their own worlds with the all of the fraternity's colors covering the living room floor. You had a feeling that Liyah was somewhere near the front door and hunting for Yasmin became a lost cause, alarms were ringing in your ears or what you heard from the bass of the speakers knocking your eardrums. People surrounded the two of you enclosing the both of you into your own bubble, Jabber took a hold of your hand turning you around your ass connected to his hip pushing up against you while you gave him a little taste of what you could do.

His tatted hand rested on your cheeks as you bent over to get a better feel of what was poking you underneath the material of your dress. That's when you felt Jabber's hands grip your waist fully, pulling you back to slow your movements before releasing you to move faster. A moment you were glad nobody had their cameras on to see.

You were being so thankful about your dress covering that slick sound of your other set of lips starting up a conversation you were urging to have, with the way he was slightly humping your hips to the beat of the song you didn't know how much restraint and resolve you had left in you. Although, you were having too much a good time to think about what your hips were doing, you didn't make a commotion in the crowd but to Jabber all eyes were on you grinding back on him while your ass moved.

A cold shiver ran up your spine as Jabber's hand snaked up your back to wrap around your throat, turning you back in his direction. His pink eyes peered down at you squeezing your neck like he was trying to stop himself from sliding his tongue in your mouth. He pulled in his bottom lip releasing some of that pressure off your neck turning his head to the side smiling hard.

"Quit playing with me.."

You stepped close to his frame, close enough to smell the alcohol on his breath hesitant with your words, fighting a war in your mind and the oil was winning

One kiss wouldn't hurt right?

It was a miracle the way you didn't slip on your own feet walking up the stairs although you spoke too soon seeing Jabber stumble a bit in the unfamiliar hallway. Tiny giggles filled your ears as his little mishap ended with his back pressed up against the wall and your tongue shoved into his mouth earning a satisfied groan from his lips.

His hands shuffled from your hips down to your ass poking out of the small material underneath, cupping and squeezing with a firm grip, laying a heavy smack causing you to gasp into his mouth. You took this opportunity to pull on his bottom lip, taking a small second to look at his tongue piercing before going back in to decorate his face with sticky glossy kisses.

Before you knew you it your back slammed against a nearby wall, lips were smashing together damn near clashing with his grills. Soft heavy hands carefully explored your body as you sucked in a breath from his rings gliding over your ass, sent adrenaline to your mind as he gives it a sloppy squeeze followed by a heavy smack which left you moaning in his mouth.

"Un uh c'mere.." He smirked on your lips as the two of you stumbled back and forth.

"Come get me.." You murmured.

Your arms attached around his neck inching deeper into the kiss. Your little grunts and whimpers only fueled Jabber ego knowing his touch had you ready to melt at merely nothing. He hooked your leg around his side, daring to pick you up like he did in front of every camera in the building, the sinister giggle he left on your lips gave you just strength to do it again! In one swift motion he scooped you back into his arms, pushing your thighs up further than they were supposed to go.

"W-where you- Jabari!"

Jabber placed you up onto his shoulders, your thighs resting perfectly around his neck face to face with your cunt radiating heat and like the nasty dog he was he sniffed you out, moaning to himself before going in to peel the thin material to the side with diving head first into your leaking pussy.

All you could do while the bass of the music boomed through the walls was catch your breath in the palm of your hand. Your other hand dug deep into his locs forcing his warm lips to kiss her first and he was quick to grant your wish. Jabber's tongue soothed your sensitive bud with a long nasty stripe quickly lapping at your juices letting it run down his chin. Like he gave a fuck about making a mess.

He shook his head side to side smearing your slick around, hands gripping on to your trembling thighs oh so tight they left indents on your skin and your back was trapped on the wall, elevated in the dark atmosphere.

"Oh…shit.." Your voice only coming up to whisper as your mind wondered just how high he had you in the air. Quickly, your eyes scanned the dark room ahead of you noticing the ceiling just a few feet away and a pink eyed que dog drooling all over your cunt. Soft subtle moans could be heard from him seeing his eyes shoot up at you and the bastard had the nerve to smirk against your clit, flashing those gold grills while his tongue teased that hole aching for something to fill her. A long mewl later and Jabber's lips wrapped around your now swollen bud aiming to drain that orgasm sitting heavy on your lower stomach.

"D-don't let me…fuck. I don't wanna fallll.." You whined, ignoring your own thoughts by bucking your hips into his mouth, feeling him flatten his tongue so you could grind on the ball of his tongue piercing.

"Mhmmm I wont baby.." His voice muffled by your folds and the sounds of your pussy playing with his tongue. He found his way inside of your heat, pressing past that first ring of resistance earning a harsh gasp from you and a pleasing groan from the nasty dog.

You were practically sucking his tongue inside the way he spread it out made your eyes cross over themselves yet Jabber still pushed on, sliding his wet muscle in and out.

"Oh my god..how you…shit right there right…" You were mumbling tipsy nonsense while you were humping this random man's face and you couldn't stop a thing if you wanted to due to you dangling in mid air. You took both of your hands tangling them into his hair as your walls quivering around his tongue ready to make his grills shine so fucking bright with your slick.

"Gimme that shit.." He pulls back to spit a long drabble of spit on your already glistening cunt, diving right back in lapping up your clit as he slurped to clean up his mess and create a new one at the same time.

"C-Cumming J-ja..I"

"Jabber baby..Jabber.."

"Fuck! Jabber!"

Your felt your body slip off of the wall just an inch watching Jabber pull you in closer to savor your taste, sending a shock wave of nerves across your body only aiding in your building orgasm ready to burst. However, you came oh so close to the top just for Jabber to snatch his jaw away right at the last second causing your thighs to quake around his neck. His dick throbbed at the sight of your dripping cunt oozing all for him, he couldn't catch his breath!

"Taste like juice.." He hummed diving back into your heat with tongue extended layering long heavy licks causing all of your nerves to come undone into his mouth satiating his hunger.

"Y-Yessss.." His filthy lips wouldn't stop, he sucked your orgasm right out of you and continued his sloppy uncoordinated movements, groaning out loud as he slobbered all over your twitching clit

"Oh my god..pussy don't want me to leave do she?" He growled, teasing your hole with the tip of his tongue before flicking up towards your clit then back down to plunge inside tasting your slick walls. His nose nestled right on the mound of your cunt lightly brushing the hood of your clit causing your eyelids to glitch and your legs to squirm on his shoulders fighting that pressure rising once again.

Your thighs closing in on his jaw wasn't enough to make Jabber lose his focus, instead he laid a heavy ring filled smack against your flesh, grunting into your cunt while his fingers left indents in your skin. It didn't matter if your thong was in the way or not he felt the ball of his piercing roll over your clit again and again, holding your clit in his mouth feeling your hole leak more of your juices on the side of his face.

"Fuckkkk…"

"Jabarrrriiiii..ohhh shit!' You cried out, slamming a hand over your mouth while your body convulsed, your eyes dancing around the dark office like room.

Jabber slid your legs off of his shoulders, listening to your heels clack and stagger against the hard floor. You felt like a fresh baby deer the way your knees knocked together though the moment lasted mere seconds before you dropped down to your knees, head woozy from the mysterious oil. It didn't matter if it was your own doing or the help of the alcohol the only thing that lingered in your mind was figuring out what he tasted like, Jabber was on the same page.

"See what that mouth talking bout.." Jabber unbuckled his belt, the clicks of the metal ringing in your ears revealed the rest of that happy trail you envisioned earlier, the way your mouth drooled you felt like a dog in heat yourself. When you were mindlessly hopping around in his arms and felt his semi poking you underneath your dress, your mind instantly pictured your lips wrapped around the head of his dick never did you think you would have a chance to showcase your imagination

His natural musky scent filled your nostrils as his dick sprung free from his boxers tapping his ridiculously carved stomach, the main reason he stopped your climax from crashing down was to prevent his own from sneaking up on him. He winced grabbing his own length, spreading the nasty white liquid with each stroke squeezing out semi clear beads of pre.

You groaned at the sight, sliding your wet pink muscle out decorated in spit lines, taunting him, silently begging him to cave in and do his worst yet he only inched inside of your warm mouth, coating his shaft as he pumped into your throat at an agonizingly slow pace. Lewd sounds of him hitting your uvula over and over drove him insane, thank god for the music or else the entire party would've heard his steady grunts or your throat filling up with spit.

Your acrylic hands wrapped around his slippery shaft stroking him into your mouth, moaning on his dick as you swirled your tongue around his tip, neck bobbing up and down

"Ahhh fuck! No hands..no hands give em here.."He huffed, grabbing at them rather than swatting them away so he could intertwine his fingers with yours keeping them steady on the wall. His hips rolled further into your mouth producing nasty globs of spit to fall on the sides of your chin, easily sliding in and out with no resistance. You were breathing manually through your nose, eyes shut prickling with tears forced to listen to his drunken praises and low gutteral moans leaving his body due to your throat tightening up on him.

"There you go there you- oh my god! That's a good girl take it..slobbering on my dick like this look at you making such a pretty mess mama.." He cooed, hesitant to keep up his movements as his knees buckled underneath the hot and heavy pressure rising in his lower stomach. Your spit muffled moans only made it worst! Your eyes flutter open gazing up at Jabber's illuminated eyes peering right back at you with his bottom lip tucked in, his breathing hitched in his chest fighting off those loose whimpers escaping his own throat.

"Mhmm you want me to cum all on this face don't you baby? Keep that throat open for me gahhhh- fuck!" He slurred, confused in his own mind why his balls were tightening up so quick, it felt foreign to him. His thrusts became sharp, powerful and sloppy hoping to ruin your voice not just from you screaming his name. Jabber plunged back and forth each time grunting harder to keep himself steady, running his mouth through gritted teeth. He squeezed your hands tighter as you felt his balls hit your chin at a faster pace, they tignten up and the cramp in his lower stomach became too much for him to handle.

"It's like that? You gon make me cum like that? Imma give it too you ma..Imma- shhhiiiitt!" You felt his tip jump in your mouth followed by a sharp savory taste staining your tongue before he abruptly pulls himself out of your mouth to spray your lips with the rest of his seed like he was painting you with fresh lip gloss.

"Ho my god you done made me nut off some head?"

You only moan in response swallowing every drop trying to finally catch your breath, if being held up in the air made your legs tremble you weren't prepared for what Jabber had in store as he stood there still stroking himself to spread the sensitivity, what you were about do next definitely took the que dog once he saw you stand back into your feet hiking up that homemade dress up to expose your aching cunt spilling and spitting up your juices.

"Put it in me.." You murmured, the muffled bass of the music thumping in the room.

"Thats what you want?" He grinned, inching closer to plant his hand right beside your skull on the wall, taking the other to draw lazy patterns on your thigh, cupping the fleshy material to wrap it around his waist. He tugged on that thong nesting so perfectly between your cheeks tossing them on the floor. Jabber leaned into the side of your neck and you swore you heard that signature bark in your ears but instead the slick bastard laid a nasty lick on your skin angling the tip of his dick to line up with your entrance carefully sliding your slick up and down on his shaft.

"All night you've been giving me that look…uh huh that look right there.." His voice melting like butter as your eyes locked on to each other. "I gotchu mama he gon get you right.." He taps your clit 3 times, being so polite to knock before he enters leaning his hips forward allowing him to ease his way inside of your tight cunt sucking him into your warmth. The both of groaning at the point of connection.

"Ouuu fuck…"

"Let him stretch you out…"

"Y-yesss J-jabber…"

"Louder baby they can't hear you.." He smiled, keeping his position steady rising your thigh up once again to hook on his shoulder to give him the deepest angle watching your face fall apart with each stroke. Your words couldn't be processed the only noises that could be made out where broken slurred syllables of his name. Your hands rested on his shoulder digging your nails into his skin as you rubbed on his body, your fingertips ran over that branding sitting on his shoulder and it drove your mind into pieces feeling his muscles tense up underneath you.

Your sopping wet cunt became the star of the hour as he pushed up inside of you, eyes focused on watching your every movement. The veins of his dick rubbed up on your creamy walls puncturing that gspot he found in no time sending black and white stars to your vision with the color pink dancing around in your mind.

“Over the music? Huh? Yeahhhh You want everybody to know what i’m doing to you.. I knew…you were…a slut…”

He slung his dick deep inside of your core with each word, grinning to himself as the color white stained him like a brand new paint job. You growled and drooled onto the wall with joyful tears staining your face as your swollen cunt spat out more of your sticky fluids, dribbling down your thighs.

“You tightening up on me? H-Hah…shhhit! Yeahhhh I know, this dick fucking you stupid? Already?” He laughed, stuttering on his own moans as he felt your sloppy pussy clamp down on his length, tugging him in like a warm hug.

“Deep, long strokes is what this pussy needs? Listen to this shit." He trailed off from the feeling of his dick slowing it's pace to watch you swallow him up

"So...thick...fuck!"

"Keep talking bout it." He smirked.

"I feel..so fucking full.." You whined, plopping your hips back to keep you with his ridiculously slow thrusts. You felt his hand creep up by the side of your face, whimpering as his fingers slipped in your mouth allowing you to suckle on them muffling you further as his hips picked up speed You drooled like a bitch in heat with your eyes rolling back in pure drunken ecstasy,.

"Jab-berr!!"

"That dick got you drunk mama?" His voice came out almost like a growl, breathing so hard against your neck. There was no way in hell you were about to stare him down while he slung his dick in you like this, yet Jabber didn't give a fuck what you wanted in this moment. He grabbed your chin with no hesitation, forcing your eyes to peering to his pretty pink orbs as he drug his dick in and out, his cheeks pulled into a ridiculous smirk seeing you go in and out of that subconscious trying to stay in the moment instead of going to la la land.

"Where you at?" He lays a few taps to your face, slowing down just a bit to get a good look at you.

"I'm good I'm good…please…don't stop.." You whined to him, your words still coming out coherent enough for him to keep going, that was all the consent he needed to pull out of your soul sucking cunt to turn you around to face the wall. Your hands held on to the surface as Jabber spat right on the crack of your ass spreading it with the tip of his dick right before he pushed back inside of your heat, a long cracked out moan leaving his lips.

"Pussy so….ssssfuck!" He winced as he stood there remaining still letting that pressure build up, you took your hand to spread your cheeks open just so you could push back on his dick with slow, calculated bounces. You felt his skin clap against yours and your juices coat his dick disappearing inside of you over and over. It was like something in your mind had switched over, that searing hot feeling of his dick pressing past that barrier hit like crack, spreading yourself wider so you could take every inch not realizing you were giving him more access to fuck you up how he wanted to.

"Take this pussy from me.." Your own lustful thoughts failing you due to your words being spat out loud. You slammed your hips down with a much harder force

"This my pussy?"

"Oh fuck…yessss."

"Stop lying.." His dick sliding in and out of your pussy at a steady rate as patches of white cream covered his shaft. "Fuck why you creaming on my dick like this?"

"You stuffing me so fucking good.."

"Gon make me cum in this pussy, you gon let me cum in this pretty pussy?" he lays a heavy smack to your ass, slamming into your squeezing cunt that much harder, knocking the wind out of your lungs, there was no where to run! He had your head pinned against the wall with his ring covered hand, pussy spread open taking every inch he promised to give.

You paid his question no mind not giving a fuck about the repercussions in this very second, he could cum in your mouth, buss one on your face and damn sure cum inside of you if he kept laying that thick length inside of your creamy walls the way he did. How could Jabber keep his composure with your ass swallowing him up? Your pussy choking him out like he owed you something? You could tell how close he was based on how his hips slurred with his sloppy non-calculated thrusts. He was no good.

Jabber removed his hand from your back popping his thumb into his mouth coating it with spit laying it back on your puckering hole gazing back at him, he teased you with the tip of his thumb testing the waters as he popped it inside with ease, groaning at the sight of his dick entering you and him pulling you back like a cock sleeve.

"Hooo my fucking god…" Jabber growled shoving his free hand to the side of your face, mushing you into the wall as he pumped his dick inside of you, playing with that hole pushing it in further. His gold cover smirk illuminated the room as his threw his hips into your stomach watching the recoil on your ass ripple time and time again.

"Im gonna cum if you keep—fucking me—like….like ohhhh Jabber!" Your mouth was clamped over by Jabber's cool ringed hands turning your wild outlandish screams into muffled bass just like the music still bumping from downstairs. Jabber should've covered his own drunken lips since his moans were just as broken as yours. His heavy warm breaths along with cracked out whimpers mixed into the air, his hips ricocheting off your ass.

"Please..please mama cum all over this dick..oh fuck! Let me cum in this pussy please? Move yo fucking hand!" He barked, grabbing a hold of your wrist to keep it in place, slowing his strokes down creating a mind numbing pace coaxing more of those sweet juices to drip on the floor.

The pressure of his dick hitting your inner core over and over swelled up like gas in a balloon, you felt like you had to pee yet he didn't stop digging so deep inside of your pretty pussy, he was determined to pull everything out of you and then some, the bright idea to push him back became a futile one as he slipped his thumb out to pick your body off of the wall like a rag doll placing you on a nearby dark wood desk. His arm shoved the papers, pens and pencils all to the ground just to place your body on the surface returning his painfully pleasurable pace holding your ass cheeks open to lay another line of spit on your ass watching it dribble down

"Such a nasty lil bitch.." He grumbled

"You a…nasty….fucking…dog…"

"Say it again…say that shit again!"

"You a…fucking…dog…..jabber…fuck!" A sharp cry echoes throughout the dark room as your juices trickled down your legs making a small puddle on the floor. Your thighs convulsed together and your stomach cramped from how deep he was punching your guts. All of your moans mixed in with Jabber's strung out groans feeling his dick twitch so deep inside, you didn't have time nor the energy to notice your phone going off the hook in your bag that fell on the floor moments earlier.

Your arms stretched out over the hardwood gripping onto the edge of the desk while you drooled, letting your eyes bounced along with your body as Jabber crumpled up the bottom of your dress using it as leverage to bring you back on his dick every time.

Heavy smacks stung your skin feeling his thrusts becoming sporadic and hungry, he leaned forward to sink his teeth into the back of your neck, using his whole hand to grab you up by the neck to sling you down on his dick, regaining a second wind listening to the lewd sounds of your pussy gagging on him.

PLOP PLOP PLOP

"Stuff this pussy..I can't take this…I- Yessss Jabber!" You turned your head around like a dunce to try and get a glimpse of him, drilling his length so deep.

"Yeah you can baby…oh I know…" He whined, his eyes widened once he locked eyes with you, gazing at your mouth being agape from his dick throbbing inside of your walls

"Bark for me.." He snickered, changing up his rhythm to hit your core spot on shoving his dick in and pulling it out to his tip to repeat those long, deep strokes inside of your stomach.

Your throat only let out a low guttural growl before Jabber left a hefty hand print on your ass from smacking it in the same place over and over.

"Bark for me." This time sounding more like a command then a request and just like that a small bark left your lips followed by a mewling growl of the next orgasm settling in.

"Yeah baby…like you want it…Bark like youu…oh fuck I'm cumming baby I'm finna nu-gahhhhh damnn..!" He exclaimed, immediately pulling out to layer thick shots of his cum all over your ass in nasty heavy spurts. His hands pumped his dick coating in your mixture squeezing the remnants out of his swollen tip. Your screams were silenced by your own hands slamming over your lips once more to muffle the blow as a stream of your juices cleaned his dick off in seconds.

The both of you were dripping in sweat, breathing hard and almost as drunk as his neos outside of the room partying.

Sitting in the after glow, the coolness of Jabber's rings rubbing your ass to soothe you felt just as intoxicating as his dick, the foggy clouds settled over your mind feeling your legs tremble in place like a muscle spasm.

"FIND LIYAH!" Your mind yelled at you, the longer you stayed around in this room, the longer you would have to sit in the overpowering guilt of knowing what you just did. It was supposed to be just a few kisses! How the hell did you stumble upstairs into this office in the first place? You stumbled around the room looking around on the ground to find your buzzing purse and to quickly do something about your hair sweating out. A spare hair tie did the trick once you put your style in a quick half ass low ponytail. There no getting rid of the evidence but the main goal your body focused on was to move.

"W-where you going lil mama? Aye- easy-" You scurried out of the room before he could even finish his sentence, rushing down the dwindling staircase in your heels careful not miss a step. You made it to the bottom and began to fumble through your purse to find your phone only to look up to see your friend yelling at you from across the building with her phone to her ear.

"Y/N! Over here!

"Y/n where did you go?!" Liyah said in a worried tone.

"I went to see a man bout a dog..we gotta go.." You stammered.

Jabber emerged from the same door moments later adjusting his pants making that same journey down the steps only to find that same thong on the steps quickly picking it up and slowly hesitated before he took a deep sniff with the thong he had collected off of the floor, looking around to see if he could spot the logo of that dress, your eyes in the crowd anything. He had to at least see the girl that just took his virginity one more time but you were nowhere to be found.

One of his brothers came up to him, patting his shoulder knocking him out of his drunken train of thought.

"Yo we were looking for you! The cooler running low and one of the Neos throwing up bad in the back- " He paused looking down at Jabber's hand still holding the black thong.

"You bagged?!"

"I smashed…" Jabber joined his brother in a goofy ass mini celebration following him to the back to help out his neos while you sat in the passenger seat of your friend's car replaying the events over…and over….and over. Classes would start back tomorrow, tryouts for the CT Majorettes began the week after meaning you were about to be too busy and you would never have to see his face again let alone another Omega plot on campus.

You swore to yourself to never look back but a certain someone was just about to start his search.

I can't lie this one is a new personal favorite and I hope it becomes yours too! Who knows where this may go it all depends on you guys but you know the rules love. As Always I'll imagine with you soon until next time dolls!

-MissHoneyBlue

Your apartment greeted you with the faint, lingering smell of last night's microwave popcorn and the sterile chill of air conditioning.

Home.

You dropped your bag by the door, the sound unnaturally loud in the quiet. The date had been a shit show. Daryl — or whatever the fuck his name was — with his overly firm handshake and his insistence that you 'just hadn't given indie men a real chance.'

What kind of bullshit. That sentence alone pissed you off.

You padded into the living area, your eyes automatically drifting to the one nice thing in the room: the large, framed poster of the BAD album cover your dad had given you. Michael's face, frozen in a moment of defiant cool, watched you slump onto the couch. His face a stark contrast to your tired features. God what a night this was. One of the fifty million pointless dates from lonely dating apps. It was exhausting.

After a few coincidental minutes, a soft knock at the door made you jump. You weren't expecting anyone, and you prayed it wasn’t your date following you home, again. You dreaded the thought of calling the police for the third time this month.

Peering through the peephole, your breath hitched. Standing in the dim hallway light was Michael himself, looking oddly casual in a dark button-down and slacks, his hands tucked into his pockets.

You unlocked the door, pulling it open. "Michael? What are you doing here?"

He offered a small, almost shy smile. "Your dad mentioned you had a date tonight." He gestured vaguely. "I was in the neighborhood. Thought I'd check in."

In the neighborhood. Your apartment was decidedly not in any neighborhood Michael would ever just 'be in'. But you stepped aside, letting him in anyway. His presence immediately changed the energy of the small space, making it feel both smaller and more significant.

He stepped inside, his gaze sweeping the room with a practiced eye before landing on you. His smile faded into a look of gentle concern. "You okay? You look tired."

Tired wasn’t even the word for it. Defeated, sure. Mortified, absolutely.

"I’m fine. The date was fine," you mumbled, retreating to the safety of the couch.

He didn't push, just closed the door softly behind him. "Can I get you something? Water?"

"Wine. But it’s okay, I can get it. Just… I dunno. Make yourself comfortable."

The words came out more brittle than you intended. You pushed yourself off the couch, heading for the kitchen to give your hands something to do. You didn’t know his true intention of being here, but you were too tired to ask.

He nodded, moving to the couch but not sitting. Instead, he picked up the discarded Thai food menu from the floor. "You eat?"

You pulled a wine glass from the cupboard, the clink of glass the only sound for a moment. "Not really. Lost my appetite."

He set the menu down, his voice was low, a bit humored. "That bad, huh? How many does that make?"

You sigh, grabbing another glass and pouring the wine in both of them, a common curtesy for him being in your company once again. The deep red sloshed into the glasses, your reflection wobbling in the dark surface. Part of you felt ashamed. How could you even tell him? How could you admit that yet another guy made you feel invisible? Inferior? So fucking stupid for allowing him to waste your time?

The silence stretched, thick and uncomfortable. You carried the two glasses back to the living area, the wine threatening to spill over the rims with your unsteady steps. You handed one to Michael, your fingers brushing against his. A tiny, electric shock of contact. He took the glass, his eyes never leaving your face. "Thank you."

You took a large gulp of your own wine, the bitterness a welcome distraction from the lump forming in your throat. You collapsed onto the couch, putting a cushion's worth of distance between you.

He finally sat down, the fabric sighing under his weight. He took a slow, deliberate sip. "You don't have to talk about it."

"It’s not that," you hesitate, your breath hitching as you try to find the right words to describe your emotions. "I just.. I’m just so tired." The words felt like a confession, heavy and true in the quiet room. Tired didn't even begin to cover it. It was a soul-deep weariness from trying to fit into a mold that never felt right.

You half scoff, half chuckle at your own disbelief, "They are just so fucking stupid." The words hung in the air, sharp and final. It felt good to say it, to give a name to the frustrating, hollow feeling in your chest. And the floodgates opened. All the pent-up frustration from the night, from months of bad dates, came pouring out. You gestured wildly with your glass, the wine sloshing precariously.

They're all the same.

They talk at you, not to you.

They're obsessed with being perceived as deep, but they have the emotional capacity of a teaspoon.

And he listened, his expression unreadable. He took another slow sip of wine, his eyes never leaving you as you vented about your love life struggles.

You ranted about Daryl’s conspiracy theories about the music industry, about how he'd tried to explain Michael's own album concepts to you as if you were a child. The irony was almost painful.

A part of Michael felt relieved that he was no longer your age, along with the challenges that came with dating. However, another part of him was astounded by the way men treated women these days. There was no chivalry, no love, no respect, and no desire to court a woman. It was almost pathetic to him.

He set his glass down on the coffee table with a quiet, definitive click. "They don't know how to respect women." His voice was low, but it carried a new weight, a sharp edge that hadn't been there before, laced with platitude and judgement.

He leaned forward slightly, his elbows resting on his knees. "They don't understand the aspect of making you feel... cherished. It’s a sense of entitlement." His words sounded nothing short of intimate and old-fashioned, and while you would’ve made fun of him for it in any other moment, your words died in your throat.

His gaze was intense as it searched your face, and you try to blame the wine for your breathlessness. "It's not you, you know. It's them. They're boys."

"You need a man."

You pause.

"What?"

He didn't look away, his dark eyes squinting for a moment. "You ain’t hear what I said? You need a real man. Someone who knows what he wants and," he stammers a bit. "and knows how to treat you right."

Oh, he was dead serious.

The air in your small apartment felt thin, charged with an electricity you’d never felt with him before. He leaned back slightly, breaking the tension for just a moment, but his eyes never lost their focus. "They don't see you. Not really."

"And you do?" You speculate, this felt all too real for you. The red wine felt heavy in your stomach, the room tilting on its axis.

"Well, yeah," he scoffs, like it was a silly question to ask. His gaze swept over you, taking in the way you were curled into the corner of the couch, the frustrated set of your shoulders. "You're smart. Y'got a good head on your shoulders. More than any of those lil boys could ever hope to have."

He shook his head slowly, a sad, almost pitying look on his face. "And you're... breathtakingly beautiful. You gotta know that."

"Michael — I don’t understand —"

He turns his head towards you, slightly closing the distance between you. "I think you do understand." His voice was low and soft. "You're too smart not to."

Your mind was racing, a frantic scramble to make sense of the shift in the air. Your dad’s best friend, the same famous man that still took the time to spend time with you when you were in college. Your father would kill you if he found out.

A cold dread mixed with a hot, sharp thrill coiled in your stomach. You thought of all the times he’d been there, a constant, quiet presence in your life. The hugs that lasted a second too long. The way his hand would sometimes linger around your waist.

The silence was deafening. His words hung in the air, a challenge and an invitation all at once. Your mind was a whirlwind of confusion and a terrifying, undeniable pull. He watched the internal conflict play out across your face, his expression softening from intense to something more patient, more understanding.

"You’re scared."

"I’m not.." You shake your head, your gaze flickering to the empty glass in your lap with a soft sigh. The denial was weak, even to your own ears. Your fingers tightened around the stem of the empty wine glass, a flimsy anchor in the sudden, swirling intensity of the moment.

He reached out, his movements slow and deliberate, and gently took the glass from your hands, setting it aside on the table. "S’okay to be scared. This is a…” he exhales. “a lot to process."

His hand returned to yours. The air felt thick, heavy with unspoken desire and the weight of crossing a line that could never be uncrossed. He didn't pull his hand back completely. Instead, he let his fingertips trail softly over the back of your hand. "I, uh, I watched you for a long time, y’know… become this incredible woman,"

His thumb stroked a slow, hypnotic pattern on your skin. "I wanted to wait a lil longer, 'cause I have waited. Out of respect f'your father." A faint, almost sad smile touched his lips. "But as much as you're tired of boys not seeing your worth, it's gettin' to me too."

The confession was staggering, and you know it wasn't a sudden impulse he felt from the confines of your cozy living room, because it didn't sound like it. It was a years-long, simmering yet quiet desire that he was finally letting boil over.

"Now, you've been awful quiet." He laughs softly, gazing down at where your hands connected. His glasses fell slightly on his nose. "I just wanna know what you're thinkin'. If this isn't what you want..."

"I do, Michael.. I'm just tryna... process it all."

You weren't necessarily lying. It was true. You would be absolutely stupid to say no to Michael, especially with your attraction to him in mind. The attraction you thought you'd have to bury away for the rest of your life because it never crossed your mind that this would be possible.

His soft laugh was a vibration you felt more than heard; it settled deep in your bones. He gently lifted your chin with his fingertips, forcing your gaze to meet his. "Then stop processing. Just feel." He leaned in slowly, giving you every opportunity to pull away. The first brush of his lips against yours was achingly soft. Nothing like the rushed, sloppy, nasty kisses you'd experienced before. His lips were reverent against yours.

But when you didn't pull away from him, he deepened the kiss, his hand moving from your chin to cup the side of your face. His other hand found your waist, pulling you gently closer until you were flush against him. The sheer size of him, compared to yours, was a dizzying revelation to you.

The kiss was a slow and deep exploration. His lips moved against yours with a practiced patience that stole the breath from your lungs. It wasn't like anything you imagined from him — it was so much better, the intensity and realness giving you goosebumps alone. The way his hand cradled the back of your head, his fingers tangling gently in your pressed hair, it was too much.

His lips trailed down from your mouth, a slow, deliberate path of soft kisses along your jawline. He took his time, as if memorizing the feel of your skin. His mouth found the sensitive hollow of your throat, his kiss there lingering, warm and damp against your cool skin. "You're so soft."

A shiver ran down your spine as he nuzzled into the curve of your neck, his nose brushing against your pulse point.

He pressed a soft and open-mouthed kiss to the spot just below your ear, his voice a low murmur against your skin. "That feel good?"

A breathy sigh was your only answer. Your hands, which had been clenched at your sides, slowly came up to rest tentatively on his shoulders, and he hummed in approval, the sound vibrating through you.

"Good, that's it. Just relax for me, sweetheart."

His lips continued, alternating between soft kisses and sucking nibbles that made your head spin. The contrast between the gentle exploration of his mouth and the solid strength of his body pinning you gently to the couch was intoxicating.

He pulled back just enough to look at you. His dark eyes searched your face, his glasses crooked on his.

"You're trembling a little, you okay?" His thumb stroked your cheek, and his question hung in the air. You could only manage a weak nod before mustering up the small yet revealing words from your throat.

"Y-Yeah, it's just — I... I haven't done this before. 'm so sorry.."

You watched his face, waiting for the shift, the judgment, the disappointment you were always fearful of.

His thumb stilled on your cheek, and for a long moment, he was perfectly still, his expression unreadable. "Haven't done... this?"

His voice was quiet and carefully neutral, which you hated. He wasn't pulling away, but the intensity in his eyes had shifted from desire to something more contemplative. He searched your eyes, which were angled down to the purity ring that still sat on your finger.

"I haven't really been with anyone, Mike. Not like that."

The directness of the answer sent a fresh wave of heat to your face; you couldn't help but feel ashamed. Not about the fact that you were raised in such a religious way, where you were practically forbidden to hold hands with a man until you were of age, let alone kiss one. Your father made that very clear from the moment he forced the purity ring onto your dainty little finger.

And from the guys you've been around, evidently, they proved that they weren't worth "corruption" — as your father would call it — so you didn't bother giving in. No matter how much your dates tried to push for it.

That didn't mean you didn't explore in your alone time. The box of toys underneath your queen-sized mattress was proof of that.

But it was about the idea of being judged. Since you were a freshman in college, you were ironically made fun of for still wearing the worn-down, busted-up purity ring your daddy got you on your 16th birthday. Shamed for being the only virgin in the group, insecure for being the only one who had no fun sex stories to share throughout undergrad.

They made you feel like a child, something fragile, like you couldn't understand the fundamentals of lovemaking.

But you don't see that with Michael.

Michael gently tilted your chin back up, forcing your eyes to meet his. There was no mockery in his expression, only the familiar softness you've grown fond of. "Hey, look at me."

His voice was a low, soothing murmur, a tear you didn't realize you were holding back escaped and traced a path down your cheek. And he caught the tear with his thumb, his touch impossibly gentle. "There's nothin' to be sorry for. I was the same way when I was your age. Don't let anyone tear down your faith."

The reassurance was so immediate, the endearment a caress as he pressed a small kiss on your forehead. "You sure you want to do this? With me?"

You let out a meek nod, his fingers tucking messy strands behind your ear.

"I need words, sweetheart."

"Yes, Michael. 'Want it to be you. No one else."

A genuine smile spread across his face, his features impossibly tender, his voice a soft promise as he leaned in again. But this time, the kiss was different, still gentle, but now with underlying possession.

He broke the kiss, and his hand slid from your back, fingertips tracing a slow, deliberate path up your side, just brushing the curve of your breast. "Is this too much?"

A jolt of pure electricity shot through you at the unfamiliar yet comforting touch. Your eyes were half-lidded and fixed on his. "N-no. Feels good..." You shake your head.

His eyes darkened, his other hand stroking your hip with his thumb. "Or this?" His hand slid lower, palm flat against your thigh, applying a small, firm pressure. You swallowed hard, shaking your head again. The sheer size of his hand, the confidence in his touch, was overwhelming yet not enough simultaneously.

Nothing had ever felt like this, especially by yourself. A soft sound escaped you, and your body slightly into his touch, a silent plea for more. His gaze on you was intense, watching every tiny reaction that flickered across your face as he studied you.

He had to; he couldn't allow anyone else to learn you the same way he did. He wanted to take the time to learn exactly what made you feel good and what didn't.

And one thing he did take note of was how expressive you were.

Every sigh, every twitch under his touch, he's never seen anything like it. You were so open when you responded to him — so honest. A pure, unfiltered reaction, and it was all for him. Only for him to see.

His fingertips continued slowly upwards, skating along the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. The touch was feather light, but he could feel the heat radiating off your skin. It was furnace-like, sending waves of anticipation through you.

"Wanna know what you're feeling. Could you tell me?"

You took a shaky breath as your mind went blank for a second, your focus only narrowing to the point where his hand rested too close to where you needed him most.

"Hot."

His lips curved into a soft smile, and his gaze was stuck on your beautiful face.

His hand shifted higher, his fingers applying a slightly firmer pressure against the seam of your jeans, moving in slow and deliberate circles against your clothed pussy. "And now?"

A sharp gasp caught in your throat. Your hips jerked involuntarily against his hand, a purely instinctive response. And before you had the room to feel embarrassed, his voice was low and approving, whispering sweet praises in your ear.

"...I want more."

"Say what?"

"I.. I want more, please."

You guided his hand from the seam of your jeans, towards the button, pleading for him to move further. You were practically aching for his touch, his sensation turning from unfamiliarity to unadulterated lust and sexual desire. His touch was a revelation. All the shame, the insecurity you'd carried for years, began to melt under the heat of his presence and the certainty of his touch.

His breath hitched at your plea, his eyes dark pools of the shared desire, searching your eyes for any kind of hesitation. When he found none, only desperation, his slender fingers deftly worked the button of your jeans. The pop of it opening sounded impossibly loud.

The zipper slid down with a soft, metallic whisper. His hand slid inside, his palm warm and firm against the thin fabric of your panties, feeling the wet spot against your lips.

"You're so wet... barely touched you."

The pressure of his middle finger was sure as he moved your underwear to the side, his cool skin tracing soft circles against your clit. Cooing softly as your head falls back. Every nerve in your body was alight and hyper-focused on the rhythm of his fingers. It was overwhelming, but in the best way possible. It was like you finally understood the language you had ever heard in hushed whispers from the women around you.

It was almost embarrassing how his soft praises washed over you —mingling with the increasing speed of his fingers — built your orgasm. And he could tell from another soft moan that escaped your lips as you relaxed against the couch. Your fingers tightened their grip on his shoulders, anchoring yourself as your orgasm threatened to overwhelm you.

He then pulls his hand back slowly, his touch retreating, the sudden absence becoming a physical ache. And your eyes fly open, a desperate sigh leaving your lips as you meet his unwavering gaze.

"Mike," you whine, "Why'd you stop?"

He leans in, his lips meeting yours in a soft kiss. "Relax, girl, 'want you to cum on my tongue first."

The words shoot directly into your ears, and they send a fresh wave of desire through you. He cups your cheek, thumb stroking your skin. "Is that something that you'd want?"

You nod eagerly, and he stands from the couch. His movements were fluid as he offered you his hand, and you took it. Your heart grew loud in your ears, anticipation sending shock waves through you.

The bedroom door is ajar, and he pushes it open, his gaze sweeping through the room before landing on your bed. The cozy, warm space suddenly feels sacred in his presence.

He stops just inside the doorway, turning to face you. He brings your hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles.

"Lie down for me."

His voice is a low command, softened by the reverence in his eyes. You moved to the bed on unsteady legs, settling against the duvet. He follows you, kneeling on the floor at the edge of your bed. The position was startingly intimate, submissive even, but he didn't have a care in the world how he looked. Especially when his focus was solely on your pleasure.

You lift your hips slightly as he pulls off your jeans, leaving you in your tank top and your thin panties, so soaked that they're practically transparent. The cool air hit your bare skin as he tossed the jeans aside. His hands slide up your calves, to your thighs, then hook his fingers in the waistband of your panties.

His gaze lifts to meet yours, a silent question, and you give a slight nod.

He pulls them down, his sharp exhale tickling your sensitive clit as he sees you. So pretty and so exposed. He was the first to see you. And he'd be the first to take you. The first to ruin you so sweetly.

He leans forward, his face inches from you as his warm breath ghosts over your most sensitive skin. "So beautiful, sweetheart."

He doesn't rush. His lips press soft, open-mouthed kisses to your inner thigh, his barely noticeable stubble a rough, thrilling contrast to the softness of his mouth. His hands spread your thighs wider as he gets closer, then his tongue darts out, a quick, experimental action that makes you jolt. Then his mouth is on you, his tongue flat on your clit, laving slow strokes that make your back arch.

He hums at the taste of you, so clean, so sweet, and it was all for him to devour. His hands slide under your hips, lifting you slightly to get a better angle, and his tongue finds a rhythm. Circling your clit then moving downwards to push his tongue against your entrance, grinding his nose against your sensitive bud in the meantime.

You can barely hear the words coming out of his mouth, and he doesn't put in any effort to pull away from your pussy. You could only manage choked sobs and high-pitched moans as the vibrations of his praises shot through you. Your fingers tangle in his hair as his tongue grows relentless. Worshipful. It became a sensation you were only just beginning to get used to, but he was anything but patient. His mouth worked you over in building intensity, his groans of approval sending your orgasm over like a freight train.

Your hips buck against his face, but his hands hold you steady. Strong and firm, allowing no escape from his mouth.

"Fuckfuckfuck — Mike, slow down, I-I'm gonna —"

He focuses his attention, his tongue flicking rapidly against your clit. "Come on, baby. I can feel you shaking. Give in to me."

The world dissolves into pure sensation. A broken cry is torn from your throat as your orgasm crashes over you, violent and overwhelming. Small whimpers flow from your lips at the sensitivity of him tonguing you through your orgasm.

He finally lifts his head, his lips glistening, his breathing ragged. His glasses were long discarded as he kissed your inner thighs softly. He rose from his knees, his movements fluid and deliberate, and joined you on the bed.

He loomed over you, his larger frame caging you gently against the mattress. The scent of your arousal and his cologne mingled in the air. His thumb brushed a stray tear from your cheek, and his gaze was soft as the hard line of his bulge pressed against your thigh. He leaned down, kissing you claimingly, possessively, his hand anchoring himself beside your head while his other worked at the fastening of his own pants.

He didn't have to be fully exposed to see the sheer size of him. The sound of his zipper was loud in the quiet room. He shifted, then you felt him, heavy against your thigh. He pressed his tip, achingly hot against your entrance.

"Look at me."

You obeyed, your gaze trapped in his. The first push inside you was an immense pressure that stretched you wide, making you gasp.

"Breathe, sweetheart. Just breathe for me. I'll go slow."

You took in a shaky breath, and he pushed forward again, slowly, inexorably filling you. The sensation was overwhelming — a fullness you'd never known, coupled with a sharp, fleeting sting. His body trembled with a low groan, evidently showing the effort of his restraint before sinking into you completely.

And for a moment, he stilled, the initial discomfort you felt began to fade, replaced by a throbbing ache of pleasure. Your shaky gasps transformed into breathy moans as you clawed at his shoulder. He began to move, a slow, rocking rhythm. The pace was patient, and his eyes never left yours, reading every flicker of emotion on your face.

He grabbed your face gently, lifting you up slightly into a deep kiss, muffling your shared moans, and the feeling built again. but different than before. His dick kissed your sweet spots so tenderly, and your hips began to move tentatively with his, meeting his slow thrusts.

The rhythm found its own pace, a building cadence that had the world narrowing to the feeling of him inside of you. His breath was ragged as he moaned against your ear, loud and unshameful. You could tell his control began to fray, his hand sliding between you to rub firm circles against your clit, matching the pace of his thrusts.

"F — Shit, sweetheart, I can't... you're so warm around me... Gonna make me cum —"

His confession sent a thrill through you. You arched into him, a silent plea for more as you felt your second orgasm shoot waves through you. With a final, deep thrust, he buried himself inside you, his body tensing as his release washed over him. His breath was harsh in your ear, his heart hammering against your chest.

He shifted slightly, propping himself up on his elbows to look down at you, his expression soft and searching. "Are you okay? I didn't hurt you, did I?" You immediately shake your head, pulling him back down as you wrap your arms around his neck in the comfortable silence.

And it was like that for a while. Before you feel him inhale softly in your ear.

"Nobody else gets to see you like this. Ever. You understand?"

The sun had begun its slow descent behind the rooftops of the neighborhood, painting the sidewalk in streaks of orange. The old wood of the Hall family porch creaked gently beneath their weight, and the heavy scent of weed hung in the air, thick and warm like the summer itself.

Mary lounged in the wicker chair, her curls pulled up high with a pencil sticking out the back. Smoke, ever the picture of calm, sat on the porch swing in a man spread, puffing on w joint with one tucked behind his ear. Stack, sat on the porch floorboards, legs laid out as he rolled the blunt between his fingers with the same precision he used on car engines. Juicy rocked gently on the porch swing, wearing a cropped Baby Phat tee and cotton shorts that hugged her hips just right, her glossed lips pursed as she blew smoke toward the sky from the blunt Smoke passed her.

They didn’t say much—just passed the blunt, breathed in the heat and let the wind do what little it could.

“Hey.” Mary spoke suddenly, flicking ash from the joint onto the rim of the pot by her foot. “Y’all heard about that pool party over at the rec center tomorrow? I think Tyrell and ‘nem throwin’ it. Word is they got a DJ this time.”

Juicy let out a soft hum and pulled her legs under her on the swing, already imagining the scene. Shirtless men with water guns, music blasting, somebody bringing their cousin who couldn’t dress, and the ice cream man pulling up just in time to cause drama.

“I ain’t heard about that.” Smoke replied, voice smooth and distant, like he already knew where this was headed.

“Well, we’re going.” Mary declared, gesturing between her and Juicy. “I told Megan we’d slide through for a bit.”

Stack gave a little grunt from his place on the floorboards. “Damn. Guess we’re goin’ then.”

Juicy perked up at that, turning toward the boys with a grin. “Y’all coming with us?”

Reluctant nods came from both twins—mild annoyance coated in curiosity. Juicy smirked, satisfied. “Well shoot.” She said, pushing herself up from the swing with a small bounce. “Now I gotta get myself together before tomorrow.”

Smoke arched a brow, glancing over his shoulder at her. “What you mean ‘get together’?”

“Gotta get my nails done, toes, hair—maybe pick out a new suit.”

Stack lifted his head just a bit, blinking up at her through lashes thick as trouble. “Didn’t you just get your nails done last Friday?”

Juicy tilted her head, one hand on her hip. “Yeah, but I need something new. You know I like my designs. Everybody’s already seen these.”

Stack didn’t even smile. He just exhaled a stream of smoke and said. “Only you payin’ attention to that.”

“Oh, and apparently you too, stalker.” She shot back, a little giggle slipping out before she could catch it.

Stack turned his head fully toward her now, blowing smoke through his nose with that same calm, hungry gaze. “You wish I stalked you.”

Her breath caught for just a second, her lip curling up in surprise. “You’d like that.”

“I would.” Stack said smoothly. “You’d like that.”

Juicy’s eyes widened, a soft gasp leaving her lips. “What? Nuh uh.” She muttered, half-turned away, trying to play it off. “Well… I’d probably be flattered. But I wouldn’t enjoy it.”

That’s when Mary stood up and stretched, letting out a little groan. “Let’s go, Ju. You know if we don’t get there soon, we ain’t gon’ get a spot.”

Juicy followed, snatching her bag off the porch railing. The girls headed toward Missy’s car, Mary jangling the keys as they walked down the steps.

“Where y’all goin’?” Smoke asked suddenly, his voice sharper than usual. It wasn’t the question—it was the way he asked it. Watchful. Protective.

Juicy turned around with a pointed look, her lips shiny and slightly smirking. “Uh! You’re stalking too. Is that y’all’s thing now? Stalking me?”

“Yeah.” Stack said without hesitation, that devilish look in his eye. Smoke stayed quiet, but his eyes stayed on her, low and unreadable.

“Where?” He asked again, tone clipped now.

Juicy rolled her eyes a little at his shift. “I told you! I gotta get my nails did. Now you’re making me late to a walk-in appointment I haven’t set yet.”

Her arms folded across her chest, the attitude sliding into her tone before she even noticed. She glanced between them. Smoke’s stoic stare, Stack’s crooked smirk, and added quickly, “And no, we don’t need a ride. We got Missy’s car. Are we done here?”

There was then a pause, brief, but heavy. Smoke didn’t say anything. His gaze didn’t soften. That familiar warmth he usually reserved for her had gone cool, and she felt it in her chest more than she expected.

Stack, though… Stack had the nerve to look entertained. He liked her sharp tongue. He liked how her voice pitched up when she got annoyed. There was a ghost of a smile on his lips when he said, “Yeah. We’re done.”

Juicy didn’t even know what to do with the flutter in her stomach, but she gave a little nod and turned away, making her way down the steps with Mary.

Once they slid into the car and Mary started the ignition, she cut her eyes at Juicy.

“They keep a tight leash on you.” She said, adjusting the rearview.

Juicy scoffed, twisting her mouth and buckling her seatbelt. “I guess they try to do that since Martin can’t, but no. I keep a tight leash on them. They don’t run me.”

Mary just laughed and pulled out of the driveway. “You keep tellin’ yourself that, girl.”

As they drove away, Juicy dared one last glance back at the porch. Smoke was still sitting, still watching, his eyes unreadable under the glow of the setting sun. Stack was now leaned against the banister, mouthing something to his brother—but she didn’t need to hear it to know.

They might not run her.

But they were running through her mind all the same.

════════════ ⭑.ᐟ ════════════

The nail shop had the unmistakable scent of acrylic and coconut oil, the low hum of fans swirling semi-cool air through the room as the girls settled into their usual pedicure chairs. A wall-mounted TV played 106 & Park on low volume, the sounds of a summer hit barely audible over the buzz of foot files, laughter, and idle chitchat. Juicy and Mary were regulars at Tipz & ToeZ, a pink-and-white storefront tucked between a beauty supply and an old fried fish joint.

They knew their techs by name—Tina and Mimi—who already had their tubs filled with warm water by the time they walked in. Flip-flops slid off, pants rolled up, and legs dipped into swirling bubbles. As Juicy sank back into her seat with a satisfied sigh, Mimi leaned over and plucked at her ankle.

“You let too much time go,” Mimi teased in her usual sing-song tone. “Nail polish chipping.”

“Girl, you act like I walk barefoot in the streets,” Juicy joked, giggling. “That’s just my summer hustle feet.”

The girls chuckled, falling into their usual rhythm of gossip, neighborhood news, and hushed complaints about Mimi’s cousin who borrowed her car last week and came back with it smelling like weed and disappointment.

After a lull in the conversation, nothing but the click of tools and splash of water filling the space between them, Mary tilted her head slightly and peeked at Juicy from the corner of her eye. Her voice came soft, hesitant, but laced with intent.

“Do you like…the twins?”

Juicy’s brows furrowed. “Of course I like the twins,” she said, her voice light with a laugh as if the question was ridiculous.

Mary didn’t budge. “No, I mean like, romantically.”

The smile then dimmed from Juicy’s lips, and her breath caught in her throat. Her heart skipped the way it always did when Smoke looked at her just a second too long, or when Stack said something slick that she pretended not to hear. Her mind stuttered through a thousand versions of what if, but she tried not to let it show.

“Oh.” She said finally. Her voice was softer now. Smaller.

She turned to Mary and met her eyes, the air thick with something unspoken. “No.”

“No?” Mary echoed, her brow lifted.

“Yeah, no.” Juicy replied quickly, brushing the idea aside as if saying it fast enough would make it true. “I mean, they’re attractive. Anybody can see that. But I don’t think…nah.” She tried to sound convincing, even if she was talking more to herself than Mary.

Mary wasn’t buying it. “I mean, I think they might have it for you.”

“For me?” Juicy blinked, startled.

“Yeah. Especially Smoke. I know Stack’s always flirting, but that boy flirts with every girl, hell, and probably with his reflection in the mirror. Smoke though? He don’t look at nobody the way he look at you. It’s like you the only girl in the world to him.”

Juicy’s stomach flipped, warmth blooming in her chest despite herself. But a part of her wilted too—the part that heard Stack’s name tossed out like he was just playing a part. Like he didn’t mean some of the looks, or those slick little comments that lingered longer than they should’ve.

“I don’t know.” Juicy murmured, letting out a shaky breath and laughing it off like she wasn’t falling into a spiral.

Mary rolled her eyes. “Hey, there’s no shame in trying. I get it. You’re scared it’ll mess things up for your friendship. But if a fine-ass man like that looked my way, girl, I’d dive headfirst. Even if it’s just to fuck.”

“Mary!” Juicy hissed, looking wide-eyed toward the techs working on their toes.

“What? I’m serious,” Mary whispered, grinning.

“Oh, I know you are.”

Mary waved a hand like she was swatting a fly. “Anyway, I only asked because Monica told me Anika’s been sniffing around. Says she’s on the hunt since her and Donavan broke up. Again. Says it’s for good this time but we all know that’s a lie.”

Juicy rolled her eyes. “That girl’s always on the hunt. She’d prowl her way into a church function if she smelled cologne.”

“And Yalonda said she don’t even care which twin she gets. Just wants one.”Mary added, her lip curling in disgust. “Like, what kind of thirsty behavior is that? Not even caring which person you want, you just care that they’re sexy so you’ll take either. This isn’t a damn store.”

Juicy hummed in agreement but didn’t say much. Her chest felt tight, the thought of other girls sizing up the twins—her twins—leaving her strangely defensive.

“I mean, if I had to pick…” Mary trailed off, her voice laced with mischief.

Juicy turned to her sharply, caught off guard. “Pick?”

“Yeah. I think I would choose Stack. Stack’s more rugged, bold. I like that. Smoke’s too chill for me. He’d probably make me second-guess myself every five minutes.” Mary laughed, then grinned. “But if I was greedy—which I am—I’d swoop up both and leave these bitches mad as fuck.”

Juicy blinked. Her heart pounded again, louder now, her cheeks warm.

“Who would you choose?” Mary asked innocently, turning to face her with that knowing look.

“I—uh—I don’t know,” Juicy muttered, glancing down at her feet. Tina was painting her toes a soft, pastel yellow, but she couldn’t focus on that. “That’s a hard question.”

“Girl, just answer.” Mary groaned. “It’s just us. I ain’t about to go runnin’ to them with your secrets.”

Juicy took a long breath, let it out slowly. She thought about Stack’s grin when she got annoyed. About Smoke’s eyes watching her like they saw things she didn’t even show. She thought about how her heart never picked a side. And then she said it, quietly, like it didn’t mean everything.

“Both.”

Mary’s eyes widened, a big smile breaking out on her face as she leaned in. “Both?”

Juicy didn’t answer.

Mary gasped dramatically. “Juicy!”

“What? You told me to answer.” Juicy shrugged, still avoiding her gaze, but her lips twitched into a small, guilty smile.

“I know, I just didn’t know you were such a freak like that.” Mary grinned. “I’m so proud of you.”

“I’m not a freak.” Juicy said with a small smirk as she leaned back in the seat before turning to look at Mary. “Just why have one when you can have both?”

Marin’s grin widened as she looked at her best friend next to her, the sweet and innocent Juicy almost unrecognizable as she looked at her. And she couldn’t stop her grin from widening, almost in pride.

“Exactly.”

As Tina began the second coat on her toes and the shop filled with the chatter of another customer walking in, Juicy leaned back in her chair and stared at the ceiling fan above them. Her heart was still racing, but her smile—subtle and soft—lingered. Summer was just getting started.

════════════ ⭑.ᐟ ════════════

The sun was just beginning to dip below the skyline as tires rolled to a gentle stop at the curb. The cicadas still singing under the thick and sticky veil of southern summer heat that was finally softening into something a bit more bearable as Mary’s car pulled up to Juicy’s driveway. The street was dim, the soft yellow of porch lights glimmering against humid air. Mary turned to Juicy with a knowing smile, her glossed lips shining faintly under the dome light of the car. The AC had been blasting the entire ride, a faint trace of the nail salon’s lavender lotion still lingering in the air. They were both loose-limbed from their pedicures and still giggling over Mary’s bold claims and Juicy’s reluctant confession.

“Alright, babe,” Mary said, slipping the car into park and turning in her seat with a knowing grin. “Don’t act brand new next time I bring up the twins.”

Juicy rolled her eyes with a laugh, already gathering her little purse and salon flip-flops. “Whatever.”

“You know I love you, girl,” Mary said, leaning in. They exchanged their signature goodbye—cheek kisses, one on each side, exaggerated and dramatic. “Mwah. Mwah.”

“I’ll call you later.” Juicy said, pulling the door shut behind her.

“You better.”

Juicy stepped out into the warm evening air, her eyes lazily drifting across the street. Only one car was parked in the twins’ driveway and her chest gave the smallest deflated sigh at the sight of the familiar cutlass absent. Either they were both out, or—more likely—Smoke was gone. Not that she was disappointed. Not really. She turned her attention to her front door, keys already in hand.

Inside, her house welcomed her with the cool hush of an AC unit humming low and the faint scent of lemon cleaner. She slipped off her white flip-flops with the little rhinestones and flexed her freshly done toes on the cool tile. Her body relaxed, ready for a shower and some water—only for her ears to perk up at the unmistakable sound of the TV murmuring in the living room. She blinked, her brows furrowing as she padded softly across the hardwood floor.

When she turned the corner, she froze.

There on her couch, sprawled comfortably like he paid rent, was Stack, the glow of The Wayans Bros lighting up his face in flickers of sitcom chaos. Remote in one hand, legs stretched, and a bag of chips resting casually on the armrest. The volume was low and he turned his head lazily just as she stepped in, both of them locking eyes beneath the dim yellow hue of the side lamp. The air shifted immediately.

“Hey.” He said, like it was the most normal thing in the world.

“Hey.” She replied, blinking in surprise. “What are you doing here?”

“Watching your TV.” He barely even looked sheepish, starting it as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. And Juicy just let out a breath of a laugh, shaking her head as she walked further into the room. “I can see that.” She said saintly. She didn’t ask for more than that. Honestly, she wasn’t sure she wanted to. It was easier to just… accept the warmth that settled in her belly at the sight of him there. Comfortable and at ease like he belonged there normally. It was nice to see.

Stack leaned forward a bit, his eyes skimming over her. “Let me see the nails.”

Juicy arched a brow but held her hands out, fingers spread. “They’re just French tips with a little bling. Nothin’ wild.”

“Yeah.” He said, taking her hand, turning it slightly to catch the light. “But they’re not your usual.”

She tilted her head. “You know what my usual is?” She asked with a small smirk, and Smoke copied her grin as he raised his eyes up to meet hers. “I pay attention.”

Her smile twitched wider at that. He let her hand go, but his gaze didn’t move far.

“Let me see the toes.” He added casually, though there was something in his voice that sent a flicker up her spine.

Juicy laughed again, but leaned back against the couch, swinging her legs into his lap with a teasing look in her eyes. She wiggled her toes, freshly polished with the same glossy French tip, tiny gems them as well.

“Be still.” He murmured with a grin, wrapping his hands around her ankles and lifting one foot to examine it like it was art. His fingers were warm against her skin, rough in all the right ways, and it sent a low, subtle shiver up her legs as he handled her feet like it was the most natural position for them. “You like?” She asked, her voice dipping low, almost instinctive. Soft. Sweet. Sultry.

Stack’s eyes lifted to hers, his smile slower this time, eyes gleaming. “Oh, I love.”

Juicy’s breath hitched just a little, and it surprised her. She tried to mask it with a smile, but there was something about the way he was looking at her now. Like she wasn’t just he and Smoke’s childhood friend or the neighbor or the girl he teased sometimes for fun. There was a weight to his gaze.

His fingers moved in slow, absent circles over her arch, rubbing without thinking, like it was second nature. She shifted slightly, trying to keep her breath steady, but the tension in the room was undeniable now. The TV might as well have been turned off.

The room went quiet, the TV nothing more than background noise now. The air thickened, their energy humming beneath the surface like static before a storm.

“Is… Smoke mad at me?” Juicy asked suddenly, voice quiet.

Stack looked up, his brow lifting just slightly, which emptied her to continue. “He seemed a bit irritated at the way I was acting earlier.” She added, eyes dropping to her lap. “I guess I was being a little…much.”

“Yeah, you were a brat.” Stack said plainly. Juicy frowned at his words, her lips pushing into a pout. “I know.” She sighed. “And I don’t know why.”

“Because you’re spoiled.”

Her mouth dropped open in mock offense. “I am not spoiled!”

Stack chuckled. “Yes you are, Juicy.”

She moved to protest again, but he lifted a finger, silencing her with a teasing smirk. “You’re the youngest girl in your family. You did everything mommy and daddy dearest wanted, no matter how wild they acted back then. To them, you were the good one. The golden one. Compared to your drug-dealin’ brother and your teen-mom sister, you look like a damn angel.”

Juicy wrinkled her nose but wasn’t sure if she could even fully deny it.

“I blame me and Smoke.” Stack continued, rubbing slow along her heel with one bad while the other toyed with her anklet. “We used to do whatever you said. No matter how crazy it was. Then it rubbed off on everybody else. Mary, Missy… hell, even strangers do what you say.”

“Well.” She said sassily. “You could’ve said no.”

He looked up at her and smiled. “And see that pout? Oh baby, you know I couldn’t.”

He lifted her foot and placed a kiss on it—quick, but lingering enough to make her toes curl. Juicy giggled and half-kicked him, not hard, more playful than anything.

Silence fell again, warm and full.

“But no, he’s not mad at you.”Stack finally said. “At least, not for long. You know how he gets when people don’t listen.”

“Yeah, I know how you both get.”Juicy said with a small roll of her eyes. “You just be glad I like that attitude you give me.” Stack said, gaze sharpening just slightly. “Or else we’d have some issues. Issues I’d have to fix, real quick.”His tongue swept across his bottom lip slowly, and Juicy’s breath caught in her throat. She shifted, thighs clenching slightly, something that Stack caught and made him grin.

“You got real soft feet.” He murmured, eyes dropping again.

“I know.” She said, trying to play it cool despite the butterflies blooming in her chest.

“You get ’em done for someone?”

Her eyes searched his face, trying to figure out if it was a joke or something more. “You.” She said after a beat. Stack eyes made their way back to his, his brow lifted slightly. Juicy simply smirked, letting the words hang in the air. “And every other fine man who might be watchin’.” She added.

Stack laughed then, that low and deep sound that made her knees feel weak even though she was sitting down.

“Well.” He said, setting her feet gently back in his lap, “You definitely got my attention.”

Their eyes locked again, and this time, neither of them looked away.

The TV flickered in the background, forgotten. The ceiling fan hummed low overhead. But all Juicy could feel was the heat between them, thick as the summer night outside, and just as electric.

Stack’s fingers lingered just above her ankle now, the circles slower, heavier. Like he was remembering the feeling of her soft skin under his. Juicy swallowed hard, the thrum in her chest matching the quiet hum of the ceiling fan, blowing out warm air that didn’t help cool her flushed skin.

Stack hadn’t said anything since his last comment, but his eyes were still on her. And his gaze was so heavy and intense that she felt a heart eat start at the lower part of her body. He didn’t stare at her in that way boys used to look at her when she walked by in low-rise jeans. He did it in that way that made her feel seen. He was peeling her open with a glance, figuring out where to press, where to touch, how to unravel her.

Juicy sat up a little, her legs shifting so her calves rested across his lap instead of just her feet. A bold move, maybe. But it was hot. And his hands were warm. And that look in his eye made her forget how to second-guess herself.

“You good?” Stack asked, his voice low, like velvet soaked in heat.

Juicy nodded, slow. “Mhm.”

He raised a brow, but the corners of his lips tugged into a knowing grin. “Alright then.” His hands moved again, this time sliding from her ankle to her shin. His thumb brushed the curve of her calf, just slow enough to make her squirm. She looked away for a second, then back at him, only to catch his eyes already there—watching her reactions. He was closer to her legs now, and he watched as she took a sniff, and the way his eyes closed briefly had her wanting to clench her thoughts together.

“You smell sweet.” He stated as his large hands rubbed against her legs, squeezing her thick calf every now and then. “This the lotion they put on you at the salon?”1 He asked, voice playful, but the rasp in it gave him away.

Juicy licked her lips. “No, it’s the one I carry with me. Gotta stay soft.” She shrugged.

That earned a chuckle, low and deep, and his fingers didn’t stop moving. Now they were tracing the line behind her knee, then higher. She felt her breath hitch, but she didn’t stop him. Her body was humming. Like her skin was remembering the nights she used to dream of this exact thing and pretend she didn’t.

“You tryna drive me crazy?” He murmured, his fingertips brushing along her thigh now—just below the hem of her little shorts. It was light. Barely there. But it lit a fire under her skin.

“I thought I already did.” She replied, voice dipping, almost shy but not really. Stack smiled. That slow, lazy smile that said he liked where this was headed. His hands slid further north, one staying on her thigh, the other moving to her waist, like he was trying to anchor her and set her on fire at the same time.

“Juicy…”

She looked at him, breath caught somewhere between her lungs and her lips. “Yeah?” She asked breathlessly.

“You ever think about us?” He asked, thumb stroking just under the band of her shorts.

Her heart thumped. “Like what?”

His gaze was heavy now. Weighted with meaning. With memories of all the late nights they’d danced around each other, shared jokes a little too flirty, lingered in the same room just a little too long. “Like this.” He said simply. “Like… me and you. No frontin’ or nothin’ like that. Just us.” He said, and the way he was speaking, that soft voice like he was begging, had Juicy’s heart beating hard within her chest.

Juicy’s throat felt tight, but she nodded. “Yeah… I think about it.” She said, her eyes wide and twinkling as she stared into his eyes. “Me too.” His hand drifted further, palm cupping the outside of her thigh now, fingertips brushing the curve of her hip. “All the time.”

His touch turned more confident, the tease of it replaced with intention. He leaned in slightly, close enough for Juicy to smell the faded cologne on his neck—something warm and woodsy that clung to him even through the heat.

Her hand found his chest, soft at first, then gripping the front of his white tank like she needed something to hold on to. Stack leaned forward, his mouth brushing her shoulder before his lips pressed there, then higher—up her neck, slow and deliberate.

“You want me to stop?” He whispered, his voice sending a shiver straight down her spine.

She shook her head, breathless. “No…”

That was all he needed.

His hands moved with more purpose now, dragging her closer until she was nearly straddling his lap. One arm hooked around her waist, the other dipped lower, beneath the hem of her shorts. She felt his hand explore the curve of her thigh, the hush between them thick as the moment stretched.

Then… he slid further, his fingers brushing against her clothed heat. Then he pressed against her, his large fingered rubbed her through her panties.

Juicy gasped—quiet, startled, but far from unwilling. Stack’s eyes never left hers, watching every flicker across her face, gauging her every breath and reaction as his fingers moved in slow, deliberate rhythm. His mouth brushed hers, feather-soft, like he was asking for permission even as his hand spoke for him.

She gripped his tank tighter, her eyes fluttering shut as she subconsciously, slowly rocked her hips against his hand.

And in the sweltering quiet of that summer night, Stack got to work—steady, focused, and with the kind of confidence that told Juicy he’d been waiting a long time to do this right.

The air felt heavier now—thick with something unspoken but deeply understood. Juicy’s breath hitched, and for a moment, all she could hear was the slow hum of the fan and the soft rustle of Stack’s hands as they moved against her skin.

He kissed her again. This time just beneath her jaw, then down to her collarbone, letting his lips linger. Like he was memorizing her. His hand, still tucked beneath the waistband of her shorts, moved with a deliberate rhythm that had her thighs tensing and her hips subtly shifting, almost involuntarily. A slow, languid ache built low in her belly, and her fingers slid across his cornrows, gently tugging at the long end as if to ground herself in something.

“Stack…” She breathed, barely able to get the name out.

He looked up, eyes hooded and warm, his smile crooked like he knew exactly what he was doing. “You good?” He asked, the rough edge in his voice betraying how much he wanted to keep going.

She nodded—maybe a little too fast—but she couldn’t help it. Her voice was soft when she answered, breathless. “Don’t stop.”

That smile deepened, and he kissed her again, this time on the mouth—slow and full, with tongue, like he wanted to make her forget any man who ever kissed her before.

Stack’s hand was slow and sure, trailing up the outside of Juicy’s thigh with the kind of care that made her nerves hum. The couch beneath her felt too soft, too warm, like it was melting beneath them, and her heartbeat thudded in her ears louder than whatever was still playing on the TV. His fingers moved with ease, confident and patient, making her body respond before her brain could catch up.

Juicy let her head fall back as Stack nipped at her neck, her breath coming out in shallow little sighs, eyes fluttering shut. Every inch of her felt like it was waiting on him—like her whole body was leaning into the moment, breathless and trembling.

Then—

Click.

The sharp sound of a key turning in the front door lock cut through the air like a lightning bolt. Juicy’s eyes snapped open just as Stack’s hand stilled beneath the soft cotton of her shorts. For a beat, neither of them moved, suspended in disbelief.

The door creaked open, and Juicy practically leapt up, pulling her shorts down as if they’d betrayed her.

Stack sat back with a groan that was barely audible, raking a hand over his face as Juicy scrambled to look like she hadn’t just been caught on the edge of sin.

Into the doorway stepped Sinclair, her arms full with a sleeping Tyson slumped against her shoulder, his little curls damp with sweat. She didn’t step fully into the living room, but her gaze drifted—just for a second—over to Juicy, who stood awkwardly next to the couch with her curls a little too messy and her tank top slightly askew.

Sinclair didn’t say anything, but one brow arched ever so slightly.

“Hey.” Juicy said quickly, voice too high. “Y’all back already?”

“Mm-hmm.” Sinclair hummed, tired but alert. “Tyson crashed on the way. Figured I’d just carry him up.”

Stack stood up then, brushing his hands on his jeans, and Juicy caught the faintest smirk playing at his lips, like he found the whole interruption funny. “I’mma head out.”He said casually, his voice warm but cool. Not too rushed, but not slow either.

“Yeah… okay.” Juicy said, following him toward the door, trying to smooth out her curls as they went.

Sinclair disappeared down the hall without a word, but Juicy could feel the suspicion lingering in the air. She knew she probably wasn’t going to get questioned later but whatever just happened would linger between them until it was bright up again.

The porch light buzzed faintly as she stepped into the doorway while Stack stepped outside. The warm night wrapped around them like a slow, sticky blanket. Crickets chirped somewhere in the distance, and the faint scent of grilled meat still hung in the air from someone’s barbecue earlier.

Stack turned to her, hands slipping into his pockets, his tall frame backlit by the porch light. “You alright?” He asked, a teasing glint in his eye.

Juicy rolled her eyes, trying not to smile. “I was, until somebody got me caught.”

“You wasn’t caught.” He murmured, stepping just a little closer. “She ain’t see nothin’. ’Sides… you the one that got all flustered.”

“I was not flustered.” She argued, eyes narrowing.

“You are flustered.” He leaned in even closer now, his voice low and lazy like syrup on a hot day. “Still got that little red blush right here…” He tapped her cheek lightly, and Juicy swatted his hand, but not really. They both laughed softly, the kind of quiet, private laugh that was meant to only be shared between two people in close quarters.

She leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed lightly over her chest, watching him. “I’m grown.” She said, her usual sassy attitude coming back as she smoothed what we gloss she had left on her lips.

Stack’s gaze flicked down to her lips—quick but not shy. And then back up to her eyes. “Trust and believe I know that.” He said, his eyes training over her again. Juicy bit at the inside of her lip at that, looking up at him. “I should go.” He said, but made no move to leave.

“Mm-hmm.”Juicy hummed, still watching him with those big, round eyes. “You should.”

And yet… neither of them moved. The space between them tightened like a rubber band stretched too far. Then, without warning, Stack leaned in.

His lips found hers—warm, full, and hungry.

Juicy didn’t think. She just melted into him, her arms coming up to rest against his chest as his hand slid around her waist. The kiss deepened fast, hot and breath-stealing, like all the tension from earlier had been waiting for permission.

Then his hand, so bold and certain, slipped lower, gripping her behind in one smooth motion.

Juicy gasped into his mouth, the sound soft and shocked, but she didn’t pull away. Her hands curled into the fabric of his shirt, holding on like he might float away if she didn’t.

Stack broke the kiss then, just barely, his forehead resting against hers, both of them breathing heavy.

He looked down into her face, those dark eyes searching hers. She looked wrecked in the prettiest way—lips parted, cheeks flushed, her curls wild, her chest rising and falling with shallow breaths.

He kissed her again, quick and tender, right on her slightly open mouth. Then his hand slid slowly from her behind, the warmth of his touch still tingling against her skin.

“Have a good night, Juicy.”He said softly, his voice lower than before. Something about it sent a shiver down her spine. She swallowed and whispered, “Goodnight, Stack.” She said, but she wasn’t even sure the words made it past her lips.

She watched him walk down the steps, his tall frame cutting through the quiet of the street until he crossed over to the porch across from hers. He didn’t look back, not before she went quickly slipped inside and shut the door, pressing her back against it. Her hand went to her chest as she tried to catch her breath.

She stared up at the ceiling for a second, completely dazed. Then, finally, the words slipped out in a breathless, disbelieving whisper.

“What the fuck did I just do?”

════════════ ⭑.ᐟ ════════════

The morning sun had just begun to stream through the gauzy curtains of Juicy’s bedroom, casting a warmth across her floor. The summer air was already thick with heat, promising a sweltering day ahead. She stood near her dresser in nothing but a black tank top and her favorite pair of boy shorts, the soft cotton clinging to her curves in all the right places. Her hair was up in a bun with a silk scarf wrapped around the base, though a few strands were curling down the side of her face as she rubbed sunscreen onto her arms. The scent of coconut filled the room, mingling with the faint trace of her vanilla perfume.

She paused mid-rub, her eyes drifting toward the door as she remembered something.

Sinclair.

She needed to tell her sister about the pool party. Dropping the sunscreen onto the vanity, she wiped her hands on a towel and padded barefoot down the hall. Tyson’s door was slightly ajar, but she walked right past it, heading straight for the largest room in the house. Sinclair sat cross-legged on her bed, meticulously going through Tyson’s diaper bag, organizing bottles and wipes like she was preparing for war.

“Hey.” Juicy called softly, catching her attention.

Sinclair looked up from a pack of baby wipes. “Hey, what’s up?”

Juicy stepped further into the room, her bare legs brushing against the side of the bed as she smiled down at the toddler who sat surrounded by soft toys, babbling to himself. “Mary and I are gonna hit the pool party at the rec center in a few. Martin might be there, so I thought maybe you and Ty could slide through. Make it a family affair.”She said, reaching down to scoop up the baby.

Tyson squealed with delight, giggling as Juicy peppered his chubby cheeks with ticklish kisses. The baby’s laugh was contagious, filling the room like sunlight.

Sinclair’s smile was tentative. “Uh… yeah, I can see if we can do that.” She said, but something in her tone held hesitation. “It’s just that—”

Knock knock knock.

A knock at the door cut her off.

Sinclair raised an eyebrow. “I’ll get it.” She said quickly, gently placing Tyson back on the bed before heading down the hallway.

She didn’t ask who it was, didn’t pause, didn’t peek cautiously through the side curtain like she normally would. It was almost like she knew who was there form the knock alone, even the presence.

As she pressed her eye to the peephole, her breath caught. There he was. Those familiar full lips she knew better than her own name, framed by the smooth lines of a face she could spot even in a dream.

She opened the door, slow and unsure.

Smoke stood on the other side, tall and still and undeniably handsome, his expression unreadable but his eyes glued to her.

“Hey,” He said, voice low, intimate.

“Hi.” Juicy’s throat tightened, her breath catching. It was the first time they’d seen each other since her impulsive outburst yesterday. She’d sent two texts last night, trying not to sound too desperate, but they’d gone unanswered and call her an over thinker but know she didn’t know where they stood.

“Can I come in?” Smoke asked gently, watching her closely.

Juicy blinked, shaking off the trance. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, sure. Come on in.” She said, stepping aside.

He moved past her into the house, his presence immediately grounding, immediately consuming. She shut the door behind him and took his hand without thinking, leading him down the hallway to her bedroom. The house was still and quiet, Tyson’s babbling just a murmur in the distance.

Once inside, she closed the door behind them. Like he’d been here a thousand times, Smoke crossed the room and sat on her bed, picking up one of her pink decorative pillows and resting it against his knees. His eyes scanned her slowly. Her bun, her bare arms still glistening with sunscreen, the tank top that hugged her chest just tight enough for him to see the curve of her nipples underneath, and the boy shorts that left little to the imagination.

She stood with her hands on her hips, heart thudding against her ribs. “You mad at me?” She asked, lips pouted.

Smoke shook his head. “No.”

“Well…”She dragged the word out, tilting her head.

“…Were you mad at me?”

“I was never mad at you, baby.” He said, that low rasp in his voice drawing her in like a magnet.

That last word—baby—settled right in her chest and melted whatever walls she’d tried to put up. She exhaled softly, stepping forward until she stood between his knees. Her arms wrapped around his torso, pulling herself closer to him. “You didn’t answer my messages.” She murmured, her voice small and vulnerable. “I thought you were mad after what I did yesterday.”

Smoke’s arms slid around her waist, grounding her. His hands rested gently on her lower back, fingers drawing soft circles there.

“I wasn’t ignoring you.” He said. “After you dipped out to get your nails did, I had to handle some business. Came back late and crashed. I was tired.”

Juicy lifted her head just enough to look him in the eye, glancing down at her hang as she toyed this his gold chain. “So you weren’t mad at me? Not even a little?”

“Baby, no.” He repeated gently, then his fingers dipped beneath the hem of her shorts, teasing the bare skin of her hip. “But you better never talk back to me like that again.” He added in a low, commanding voice. “Or else you’re due for a punishment. Am I understood?”

A sharp thrill ran down her spine at the firm warning.

“Yes.” Juicy answered breathily, her thighs instinctively pressing together.

“Mmm, good.” Smoke said before leaning in to kiss her, slow and possessive, his hands traveling downward to rest on the curve of her ass. His words and touch made her heart skip. She felt a slick warmth pool between her legs at the way he claimed her without even needing to undress her.

“I been thinkin’ bout you.” He muttered, lips brushing hers. That thick sexual tension, so thick it could choke, melted into something else—still hot, still heavy—but now softer. Sweeter and longing.

She kissed the corner of his mouth with a feather-light touch. “I missed you.” She confessed, voice tight with emotion. Smoke tightened his hold with another soft him, one hand coming up to cradle the back of her head. “I missed you too.”

They stayed like that, tangled in each other’s limbs, in a moment so intimate it felt like time slowed. The outside world ceased to matter. All that existed was this boy she’d grown to crave and the way his body molded perfectly to hers.

Juicy’s chest tightened, her heart blooming into something dangerous. Something real, and that she wasn’t sure she ready to name, but couldn’t deny.

“I was worried.” She whispered, afraid to say it out loud. She practically spoke the words into his mouth since didn’t want to pull away, but he didn’t seem to mind as his around her tightened.

Smoke tilted her chin gently, thumb brushing over her bottom lip. “You don’t have to be. I’m here.”And for a second, she believed him. Fully and completely. Her hands slid beneath his shirt, touching the warm skin of his stomach. Her voice was soft. “You better come to that pool party later.” She said.

Smoke smirked, that lopsided grin she both hated and loved curling on his lips. “I might pull up. Depends on how good you look in that swimsuit.”

“Oh, I’m gon’ look good.” She grinned, tilting her head. “So you better be there.”

He leaned in, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Then I’ll be there.”

And just like that, the tension returned, but this time, it wasn’t uncertainty or doubt. It was anticipation. It was summer heat, sticky and sweet, and the thrill of knowing something good was coming.

Before they could Steele back into the heat of their moment, Sinclair knocked twice before easing the door open, her hand resting lightly on the knob as her eyes scanned the room. The first thing she noticed was Smoke, sitting casually on the edge of Juicy’s bed like he’d always belonged there, while Juicy was bent slightly at her dresser, sifting through clothes. Her back was to the door, unaware of her sister’s entrance at first.

Sinclair paused mid-step, almost doing a double take when her gaze landed on the man lounging comfortably in her baby sister’s bedroom. “I didn’t hear you come in.” She said slowly, eyes narrowing just a bit, like she couldn’t decide whether she was suspicious or surprised. Juicy, halfway through tugging open a drawer, turned and blinked. Her brows pulled together at the same time Smoke’s did, the pair of them mirroring each other like they were already synced without trying.

“He knocked a few minutes ago.”Juicy replied plainly, but her voice held the faintest trace of dry amusement. She stood up straighter, one hand still resting on the dresser as she looked back at Sinclair.

Sinclair’s eyes darted between them, then shifted toward the floor as her toddler son, Tyson, who came bumbling in with soft patters of his feet and the sweet sound of baby banter falling off his tongue. He wore a lopsided grin, his little hands reaching for whatever was nearby—his mother’s jeans, the air, the bed frame—giddy from just being seen.

“Oh, yeah.” Sinclair muttered, rubbing the side of her forehead as the memory finally clicked into place.

“Damn. I think the mom brain is starting to get to you.”Juicy said with an arched a brow, lips twitching with a small smile.

“Yeah, me too.”Sinclair let out a low sigh and adjusted the strap of her bag over her shoulder. “Anyway.” She started, a hesitant note sneaking into her tone. “We might pull up to the pool later, but first I’m taking Ty to see Mom and Dad.”

Juicy’s expression shifted, just barely. She was careful, giving her sister nothing but a sharp nod, her mouth set, and a blink. “Oh.” She said with a quick uptick of her chin. “Okay.”

But there was a new stillness in the room. One that Smoke picked up on instantly, his eyes flicking from Juicy to Sinclair. Something unspoken had entered the air. Sinclair’s eyes stayed on her sister for a moment longer, trying to gauge the exact temperature of her reaction. Then she spoke again, casually.

“They haven’t seen him in a while. And neither have I, so…” She trailed off with a slight shrug, feigning nonchalance, but even Tyson seemed to slow in his babbling, sensing the shift in his mama’s voice.

Juicy hummed, soft and brief, not looking directly at Sinclair as she turned back to her drawer. “Okay.” She repeated, her tone light but not warm. Her hand paused over a folded orange swimsuit, fingers tapping the fabric once before picking it up. Smoke didn’t say a word. He sat still, observing, but his jaw flexed slightly, like he could feel the tightness forming under her skin.

Sinclair gave a weak smile, the corners of her mouth barely lifting. She nodded once, lips pursed. “Alright.” She said, stepping back toward the doorway. “See y’all later.”

Juicy finally looked up again, flashing a bright smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “See ya.” She waved.

Then her gaze dropped to the little boy now holding onto the seam of his mother pants and grinning up at her with his two tiny bottom teeth showing. Her whole face softened.

“See ya, Ty!” She grinned, leaning down a little to wiggle her fingers in his direction.

“Say, ‘See ya, TT,’” Sinclair cooed in that syrupy baby voice as she leaned down beside him. But Tyson only giggled at the attention, waving his hand in a messy arc and showing off those same little teeth like he knew he was the moment.

Juicy laughed softly, the sound light and brief, but Smoke could tell her mind wasn’t fully in it. She was still stuck in whatever thoughts Sinclair had stirred up.

Sinclair gave her sister one last look, her eyes lingering a second longer than necessary on the man behind her. She clocked the way he sat—comfortably, as if this wasn’t his first time in that room. And something about that seemed to settle, or unsettle, in her chest. Then, without another word, she stepped out, gently guiding her son with her, and pulled the door shut behind them with a soft click.

Silence bloomed in the room like smoke after a match strike.

Juicy stood there, still holding the swimsuit, but her shoulders had stiffened. Smoke watched her quietly for a moment, studying the way her jaw tensed ever so slightly, the way her fingers gripped the bright orange fabric too tightly.

He didn’t speak right away. Just let the moment breathe. The silence between them was the kind that said a lot without either of them needing to say a damn thing. Summer heat curled in through the open window, thick and lazy, stirring the edges of the sheer curtains and gliding across her skin.

“You alright?” Smoke asked finally, his voice low, careful.

Juicy blinked like she’d just come out of a daze, turning to face him with a quick nod. “Yeah, I’m good.”

Smoke didn’t believe her, but he didn’t push—not yet. Instead, he let the moment sit. Let the tension hum like the faraway cicadas outside. He didn’t say anything for a second, just tilted his head slightly. “You sure?”

She gave him a softer smile then, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Yeah, just surprised me is all.” She pulled open the bottom drawer of her dresser, sifting through neatly folded swimsuits. “I didn’t know she was going over there.”

Smoke leaned back slightly, palms pressing into the mattress. “You not cool with that?”

Juicy shrugged, trying to keep it casual. “I mean… it’s whatever. It ain’t my business.”

But the edge in her voice betrayed her. Smoke caught it.

“She told you about taking him over there?”

“Nope.” Juicy popped the ‘p’ as she pulled out a swimsuit—bright orange with gold detailing—and tossed it onto the bed without looking at him. “But like I said, it’s whatever.”

Smoke nodded slowly. He didn’t push, just watched her for a beat longer. “Your folks… y’all not on good terms?”

Juicy paused again, her hand resting flat on the dresser, nails tapping rhythmically. The pause stretched out a little too long before she answered.

“We cool. Just… history, you know?” She said vaguely, grabbing a pair of shorts to go with the swimsuit. “It’s nothin’ new.”

Smoke hummed low in his throat, but didn’t press further. He could feel the wall going up in real time. Whatever the story was, she wasn’t ready to unpack it right now—not with her sister freshly gone and her mood already shaken.

He stood, walking up behind her slowly. “You don’t gotta pretend with me.” He said, voice softer now. “You don’t wanna talk about it, fine. But don’t do that ‘I’m fine’ shit.”

Juicy looked at him over her shoulder, her expression unreadable for a moment. Then she gave a small smile—this one a little more real.

“Noted.”She murmured.

Smoke leaned down, pressed a kiss to the side of her head. “Good.”

For a while, they stood like that. Quiet. Though everything unspoken still buzzed beneath the surface, but neither one of them needed to say anything. Outside, the world was still alive with chatter, sprinklers, and the faint bass of someone’s car rolling down the street.

Juicy finally pulled herself away from the stillness, tucking the different swimsuit options and shorts under her arm. “I’m gonna change real quick.” She said, tilting her head toward the bathroom. “Don’t peek.”

A slow grin began pulling at the corner of his mouth. “I ain’t say nothin’,” He murmured, voice rich and playful as he moved and sat back down on the bed. “I’ll be here.”

She raised her brows at him with a small laugh, disappearing into her bathroom with a soft click of the door behind her.

She gave him a quick glance before disappearing into the bathroom, the door clicking softly behind her. And as soon as she was gone, Smoke leaned back on his hands again, his gaze drifting toward the closed door.

Something in her sister’s visit—and Juicy’s too-calm reaction—lingered in his chest like smoke that wouldn’t quite clear. Whatever it was, he figured it wasn’t just history.

It was something more.

And he had a feeling that it wasn’t done showing its teeth.

Inside the bathroom, Juicy peeled off her tank top and shorts, stepping into the cool lining of her black-and-white gingham bikini set. The top had a halter neckline that hugged her curves just right, and the matching mini skirt hit high on her thighs, barely grazing the bottom curve of her cheeks. It was more fashion than function—more for looking good than getting wet. She had no intention of swimming today. Just a little sun, a little music, a little flirtation. Maybe a drink or two, maybe a little dancing. And with Smoke around… maybe more of the last one.

She smoothed down the skirt, adjusted the top, then stood back to glance at herself in the mirror. Hair still fresh from her wrap the night before, she slicked her high bun back with her fingers, adding a pair of gold hoops to finish the look. A swipe of glittery gloss, a spritz of body spray that smelled like coconut and vanilla, and she was done.

When she stepped back out into the bedroom, Smoke sat up a little straighter. His mouth opened slightly like he was about to say something slick, but no words came—just a long, appreciative glance that traveled from her glossy lips to her honey-toned thighs.

Juicy caught it and smirked. “What?” She teased.

He let out a breath, shaking his head slowly. “Ain’t nobody even gon’ make it in the pool wit’ you lookin’ like that.”

Juicy rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t hide the little blush that crept up her neck. She crossed the room to grab her sandals, bending just a little too slow when she picked them up, and when she straightened, Smoke was still watching her.

“You tryin’ to be funny.” He said, narrowing his eyes playfully.

“I’m tryin’ to be fine.” She replied with a wink, slipping on her sandals and tossing her purse over her shoulder.

“Mission accomplished.”

They shared a grin as well as a laugh, something more easy and light, as if yesterday’s tension had been blown away with the breeze rolling through the window. Whatever that conversation had been, it didn’t follow them now. This was a new rhythm. A new beat.

As they headed out the door, Smoke opened it for her. “After you, Miss Juicy.”

Juicy giggled, flipping her silk scarf, which she now wore as decoration, as she passed. “You gon’ call me that all day now?”

“Yup,” He said, trailing behind her. “Miss Gingham if I’m nasty.”

She swatted at him as they walked down to his car, laughing. The heat had crept up since the morning, and by the time they got in, the leather seats were already warm under her thighs. She shifted, adjusting her skirt with a little tug.

The drive through the neighborhood was quick, familiar streets lined with porches and sun-faded cars, kids running through sprinklers and old heads playing dominoes under shade trees. Mary’s block was alive with the sound of a Saturday in May.

As they pulled up to the curb, Juicy leaned out the passenger window, scanning for her friend. She barely had time to blink before the screen door flew open and Mary burst out onto the porch, her high ponytail bouncing behind her and her gold sandals clacking against the wood steps.

“Y’all ready?!” Mary shouted, waving both arms like they hadn’t seen her in years. Her swimsuit was loud and proud, a bright yellow with white flowers, and a sheer cover-up that fluttered behind her as she jogged down the walk. “Let’s gooo, I been waitin’ since eight o’clock!”

Behind her, Missy stood on the porch, arms crossed and a faint smile on her lips. She was still in her house dress, a phone in one hand and the news paper tucked under had arm. She raised her hand when she spotted the car.

Smoke leaned a little, giving her a respectful nod after a quick blow of the horn in greeting. Juicy lifted her fingers in a wave, and Mary grinned, turning around to blow her mom a kiss.

“Be good!” Missy called, though her voice held no real warning. “And tell Sinclair I said hey!”

“I will!” Mary and Juicy called back.

The woman waved one last time, then disappeared inside with the slow creak of the screen door behind her.

Mary slid into the backseat, breathless and already pulling a tube of lip gloss out of her bag. “Okay. Playlist ready? Vibes set? Let’s go, I need to feel fine today.”

Juicy turned in her seat, grinning over her shoulder. “You always fine, girl.”

Smoke laughed softly, pulling off from the curb as the music kicked in, Ashanti’s ‘Rock Wit U’ floating through the speakers like the soundtrack to a perfect afternoon.

The sun was high now, casting long shadows and soaking the world in a white gold. And with Smoke behind the wheel, Juicy in the front seat in her barely-there skirt, and Mary gassing herself up in the back, everything about this moment felt exactly right.

Summer had never looked better.

════════════ ⭑.ᐟ ════════════

The car rounded the corner and dipped onto the long gravel road leading to the city pool, tires crunching beneath the heat. The closer they got, the louder the music became, the bass vibrating through the thick, humid air like a heartbeat. Juicy leaned forward in her seat, peeking out the windshield as she caught sight of the blue glint of water and the crowds already swelling behind the black barred fence.

Smoke nodded toward the commotion. “Stack said he’ll meet us here. He on his way now.”

Mary perked up in the backseat, tugging her sunglasses down over her eyes. “Oop—Stack comin’? Say less.” Her voice danced with excitement, and she reached for her strawberry-scented body oil, giving her legs a quick gleam.

Juicy glanced at Smoke, smirking. “So this really gon’ be a thing, huh? Y’all going everywhere with us?

He shrugged, amused. “I just drive the car. I don’t ask no questions.

Mary rolled her eyes with a dramatic sigh. “Please, you always ask questions.” Then she leaned forward between the seats, grinning. “But thank you for the ride, Mr. Chauffeur.”

“You welcome.” Smoke replied coolly, pulling into a shady patch near the edge of the lot. He cut the engine and leaned back in his seat, watching the scene unfold beyond the windshield. He then furrowed his brows, looking over at Juicy. “Dwait, didn’t y’all ask us to come?” He questioned.

“I thought you didn’t ask questions?” Juicy asked as she popped a piece of him in her mouth, smiling at him as Mary hopped out of the car to get the party started.

Despite the official Parks & Rec flyer calling it a “Family Fun Day,” the vibe was anything but kiddie. Sure, there were toddlers splashing in the shallow end and a few aunties under the pavilions eating BBQ on Styrofoam plates, but most of the crowd was teens and twenty-somethings, all fresh fits and flip-flops, drippin’ with baby oil and bottled water, posted up in every corner of the pool area with red solo cups.

The scent of grilled hot dogs and chlorine mixed with the blare of Chingy’s ‘Right Thurr’ booming through a set of old speakers someone had dragged to the edge of the pool deck. It was hot, it was loud, and it was everything summer was supposed to be.

Juicy opened her door and stepped out, the sun immediately warming her legs. She tugged her mini skirt down on instinct, though it didn’t do much. The fabric barely covered her, and when she turned, Smoke’s eyes flicked upward. She caught him.

“You lookin’?” She asked, hands on her hips.

“I ain’t say nothin’,” He replied, voice smooth as syrup.

“That’s not what I asked you.” She shot back with a wink, then reached into her purse to pull out her lip gloss. “Just know I seen it.”

Smoke chuckled low in his throat, closing his door and nodding toward the gate. “Let’s go before it get too packed. Some lil boy already doin’ flips by the ‘No Diving’ sign.”

Sure enough, as they stepped through the open gate, a boy with plaits came sailing through the air in mid-cannonball, splashing a group of girls who screamed and laughed while holding their phones and purses above their heads. A tangle of floaties bobbed along the edges of the pool, and people were posted up on every available inch of concrete—some laid out on towels, others perched on plastic lawn chairs with drinks in hand.

Juicy spotted a mutual friend of her, Lamont, almost immediately.

He wasn’t hard to miss. Shirtless in red trunks, chain swinging against his chest as he grinded behind some girl in a lime green bikini. One hand held a red cup, the other was suspiciously low on her waist, and he looked like he hadn’t seen a lifeguard whistle in at least twenty minutes.

Mary laughed when she saw him. “Lord, Lamont really acting like he ain’t on payroll.”

“Girl, he never act like he on payroll,” Juicy said, adjusting her hoops. “He only work here for the free hot dogs and attention.”

Up in the high chair, their homegirl Megan sat post, stoic as ever with her arms crossed, and clearly unamused. Her mirrored shades hid her eyes. She tapped her whistle once, loudly, then pointed at the boy gearing up to dive again.

They walked deeper into the party, weaving between coolers, foldout chairs, and sunbathing bodies. Juicy felt the eyes on her immediately—she always did—but today, with the sunlight catching her skin and the black-and-white gingham hugging her like it was made just for her, she felt it too. She wasn’t trying to swim. Wasn’t here for the water. Just the vibe. The music. And maybe the way Smoke’s hand brushed the small of her back every now and then as he guided her through the crowd.

Mary skipped ahead to greet a few friends already camped out by the edge of the pool, but Smoke and Juicy lingered by one of the empty loungers. He gestured to it, offering it like it was her throne.

“You tryna sit, or you gon’ stand here and let the sun hit you like a sexy model on a magazine cover? Cause I wouldn’t be mad at it if you stood in front of me.”

Juicy rolled her eyes and sank into the seat, crossing one leg over the other. “Magazine cover, huh?”

“Yeah, girl. You’re my Jet Beauty of the Week.” He said smoothly. “But better.”

She laughed, tipping her head back, and for a second, everything else disappeared—the splashes, the laughter. It was just them.

════════════ ⭑.ᐟ ════════════

Juicy lounged like she belonged in a music video. Her legs glistening from the shimmer lotion she dabbed on earlier, ankles crossed, chin tilted just enough to keep her glossed lips in the sun. Her magazine was open across her lap, pages fluttering in the breeze, catching her on a spread of luxury heels. Delicate strappy numbers from Jimmy Choo, those Miu Miu platforms she’d been eyeing since March, and some throwback Gucci slingbacks in cherry red. She licked her thumb and flipped the page lazily, humming along to “Frontin’” as it poured from the speakers set up by the snack stand.

Mary, meanwhile, was perched up next to her in the chair beside the lifeguard chair where Megan sat post—legs swinging, sunglasses halfway down her nose as she leaned in to whisper.

“No, like—he really tried to play in my face.”Mary said, voice low but clearly animated. “He called me from a random number and said he was at his grandmas. I called back a day later and some bitch named Tamika answered.” She scoffed.

Megan sis the same, disgust tracing her features. “He bold and dumb. That’s a deadly combo.”

“He’s a clown.” Mary muttered, adjusting her top. “What’s wild is I really liked him for a second. Like, I was plotting playlists for this man in my head. That’s how far gone I was.”

“Playlists?” Megan echoed, horrified. “Girl.”

“I know.” Mary groaned, covering her face with both hands. “I almost burned a CD.”

They both gasped dramatically in unison, and that was what caught Juicy’s attention. Her gaze shifted over the top of her magazine, brows lifting. “What? I wanna know.”

But neither girl responded. They just stared past her, toward the pool’s entrance, mouths parted in small, stunned expressions that leaned more into irritation than awe.

Juicy, never one to be left in the dark, lowered the glossy pages and followed their line of sight.

And there they were.

Anika and her crew.

Like clockwork, the pool gate creaked open and the temperature seemed to shift. The girls stepped through like they owned the pavement, all matching energy but not outfits. Anika’s hair was freshly pressed, as always, bouncing with every calculated step. She wore a coral bikini that looked expensive, her top tied perfectly above a flat, glistening stomach. Her girls followed close behind, equally beat—each with a fresh press, glossy lips, designer shades, and earrings that sparkled like the pool itself.

Their heels clicked against the concrete, like a warning shot.

Juicy turned her lip up slightly.

They were beautiful, no doubt. But that little flash of insecurity never even got the chance to rise—not after what Mary had whispered to her at the nail salon yesterday. About how Anika had openly talked about wanting to fuck either Stack or Smoke, like it was a game of eeny meeny miney hoe.

So Juicy didn’t gape like the others. She just squinted, unimpressed. “They not even dressed to swim.” She mumbled, flipping through her magazine with one hand and shrugging to herself.

Mary, without missing a beat, said, “Neither are you.” Glancing over at her.

Juicy’s eyes cut sharp to the side, a little grin curling at the corner of her mouth even as she rolled them. “And?”

Mary tilted her chin like Exactly, and turned back to Megan.

Juicy sighed and folded her magazine carefully, placing it in her chair. She stood, smoothed down the hem of her gingham mini skirt, and sauntered across the hot concrete until she reached the edge of the pool. It was packed—teenagers doing cannonballs, couples lounging waist-deep, kids with floaties. But she found a spot and slipped her sandals off, dipping her freshly-pedicured toes into the cool water.

She lowered herself until she was perched on the edge, knees drawn up, arms crossed as she turned back to Mary, who watched from afar like a proud big sister.

“Is this good enough?” Juicy asked, sass dripping off every syllable.

Mary stood from the lifeguard chair, smirking. “Nope.”

Before Juicy could respond, Mary marched over and without hesitation, slid right into the pool. A soft splash echoed, water rippling around her as she dunked everything but her hair. When she emerged, she slicked water down her arms and looked up with a wide grin.

“You gotta have more fun, girl.” She called.

Juicy answered with a very matter-of-fact middle finger, flashing her acrylics. Mary cracked up, kicking away and floating backwards into the deeper part of the pool.

Juicy couldn’t help but smile. Not the tight-lipped kind she reserved for strangers or polite moments, but something softer and much more easy and natural. Even in the middle of a party, with Anika’s clique parading around like they were filming a music video feature and the sun beating down like a spotlight, she still felt good. Still felt wanted.

Juicy let her legs sway gently in the water, toes flexing as they sliced through the shimmering blue. The sun warmed her skin, and the air smelled like cocoa butter, grill smoke, and chlorine. Her elbow rested lazily on her knee, her chin tucked into her palm as she scanned the poolside crowd with a dreamy kind of smile. Laughter rose in waves around her. Somebody hollered across the deep end. Girls squealed when a boy cannonballed too close.

Juicy’s eyes wandered, taking it all in—the summer buzz, the unapologetic joy of being young without weighing responsibility as if right now. For once, she wasn’t worried about how she looked or who was watching as she enjoyed the setting around her.

Until she saw Smoke.

He was crouched near the back corner where a group of guys surrounded a towel spread with bills and dice. Martin and a couple of his boys were laughing, talking shit, slapping palms between rolls. And Smoke was in his element, white wife pleaser clinging to his back, gold chain swinging low as he leaned in and watched the dice tumble.

Then he scooped the money up with one hand, the other brushing against his waves. He then glanced up and caught her in the middle of ogling.

His smirk deepened, shifting from cocky to slow and dangerous. His eyes roamed lazily, pausing at her bare shoulders, her shiny thighs, the subtle bounce of her curls in the heat. He looked like he was remembering things he shouldn’t be thinking about out in the open.

Juicy’s breath caught. Her lips parted slightly before she caught herself and looked away, cheeks warming as she let out a soft, involuntary laugh. That was all Smoke needed. He licked his bottom lip slowly and turned back to the dice game, but not before letting that smirk linger in her direction a few seconds longer than necessary, even if she wasn’t looking at him. He knew she felt the weight of his gaze.

She shook her head to herself, the faintest blush coloring her cheeks.

And then the gate creaked open again.

Juicy glanced up just in time to see Stack walk in, and if Smoke had her heart skipping, Stack had it full-on backflipping.

Unlike his brother, who stayed in his tank top, Stack came shirtless, and Lord—he knew what he was doing. The sun kissed every inch of his chest, his abs sculpted but not overdone. His torso glistened a bit, but she knew it wasn’t likely from the lotion or oil he slathered on before leaving the house, she could see the sweat beads he built up over time out in the Mississippi sun. Though the sheer did make the tattoos on his triceps pop, as the muscles flexed with each step he took. His black basketball shorts hung low on his hips, the waistband of his boxers peeking just above.

Juicy sucked in a quiet breath.

Jesus.

She didn’t even try to look away. How could she, when he walked with that kind of confidence. His eyes scanned the crowd lazily as he chewed gum, one hand dragging over his jaw before they landed on her.

And he smiled.

Stack didn’t bother to hide the way he looked at her. His gaze dropped, lingered on the way her thighs spread against the concrete, the glint of her new belly ring catching the sun— a tiny gem that matched the brightest star, little gold rays hanging. He didn’t even pretend not to notice the way her top lifted when she leaned back, or the way her lips parted ever so slightly at his gaze. She looked so good, he almost turned around and left, just to come back in again for the drama of it.

She had on something soft today, he realized. Not just her outfit, but her. The makeup, the lotion, the faint shimmer on her collarbones. Maybe it was the memory of last night, of his hand gripping the round of her ass while they kissed under the light of her porch. Maybe it was the way she said his name like a secret she wasn’t ready to share, breathing into his mouth as his hands exploded under her shorts. Either way, she was glowing, and he felt every bit of it hit him in the chest.

He winked.

And Juicy practically melted. She fumbled her gaze back to the water like it had answers, heart thudding as if the sun itself had reached down and tapped her on the shoulder.

Stack moved on toward his brother, the two of them meeting halfway with a dap and a shoulder bump. Juicy couldn’t hear what they said, but the way they laughed together, easy and familiar, made her stomach twist. It was strange, watching them like that—like nothing had happened.

Like she hadn’t kissed one of them in the dark the night before.

Like she hadn’t kissed the other one in broad daylight this morning.

Her fingers curled over the edge of the pool, nails tapping lightly. The music thumped on behind her, girls laughed, somebody cracked open a soda nearby—but her thoughts had narrowed to one singular sentence, loud and clear.

“What the fuck have I gotten myself into.”

And no amount of summer sun was gonna answer that for her.

By the time Mary had slinked back to the spot Juicy at the edge of the pool, her body was soaked and glistening, water droplets clinging to her skin like diamonds under the sun. Her pony was slicked back, her bikini clinging to her curves as she dropped beside her friend with a sigh of pure satisfaction.

“Girl, that water feels so good.” She said, wringing a bit of water from the end of her pony tail as she leaned back on her elbows. “You better stop being cute and come float with me.”

Juicy smiled faintly, her attention still half-watching the crowd. “I’ll think about it.”

“See? That’s your problem now. Always thinking about something.” Mary teased, nudging her with a damp foot. “Loosen up, it’s a pool party, not a courtroom.”

They both laughed softly, that lazy, sun-drunk kind of laughter, the kind that only came when your skin was warm and your stomach was full of the content of the splendid afternoon.

But the someone walked by and ruined it all.

Her heels clicked lightly against the pavement, despite the pool setting, and her glossy lips curved into a slow, knowing smirk as she passed the two girls.

“Hey, Juicy.” Pearline said, voice syrupy-sweet with just enough venom beneath it to sting. She barely paused, her eyes flicking over them with a casual kind of shade.

Juicy just looked at her, chin lifted slightly. Her mouth stayed closed, her eyes cool and unimpressed. Pearline didn’t wait for a response—didn’t need one, apparently. Her smirk deepened like she expected it.

Mary blinked after her, eyebrows furrowing. “Well damn.” She muttered, loud enough to be heard. “I’m here too, but okay.” She scoffed, causing Juicy to finally let out a soft laugh, one that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Ain’t nobody worried about ole girl.” She said, physically waving her off.

Mary hummed as she side-eyed the woman that walked away from them. “Not since she switched up soon as Anika rolled in with that fake ass Fendi, a different accent and a fresh silk press.” Mary said, shaking her head as she thought about how it all blew over. “Tragic, really. Anika can’t even speak Spanish and she’s supposed to be half Dominican. That was, like, all of her appeal.” She said, more to herself now as she scoffed.

Juicy didn’t answer right away. She was too busy watching Pearline strut away, heels clacking. That same old ache stirred in her chest, that old mix of resentment and something else—something deeper. Something she didn’t want to name.

She and Pearline hadn’t talked since junior year. Not since Pearline switched up on her, started rolling with Anika like she’d been born in Queens herself. Like she hadn’t once shared Kool-Aid in Juicy’s granny’s kitchen, or whispered about first crushes under the oak tree in Mary’s backyard. Or gossiped with them at the Friday night games.

And Mary knew. Mary had been there for the fall. For the way Juicy cried that night after Pearline left them at the dance, choosing Anika’s afterparty instead, not before leaving a nasty note and some hurtful words to the chubby girl. She’d been there when Juicy admitted that it wasn’t just about friendship—it was heartbreak. The kind that came when a person knew too much about your body, your laugh, your secrets. Pearline wasn’t just a best friend.

She was Juicy’s first almost. Something she’d never try aging after the hurt she faced.

And maybe that was why Juicy didn’t say anything now—just stood, brushing off her thighs as she grabbed her phone.

“I’ll be back.” She said quietly.

“Where you going?” Mary asked, concerned.

“Bathroom.”

Mary nodded, letting her go without pushing. She watched her friend disappear into the crowd, her expression softening. She knew what day this was turning into.

Juicy crossed the pool area quickly, dodging wet feet and floating beach balls, slipping into the public restroom near the concession stand. The moment she stepped inside, she grimaced.

The air was damp and sour. One of the sinks had a paper towel shoved in the drain, and water pooled on the floor like the aftermath of a middle school fight. The stalls were questionably clean, one of them with a door that hung off the hinge.

Juicy stepped back, shaking her head in disgust. “Yeah, no.” She mumbled to herself, turning right back around.

The better bathrooms were inside the main building, where the events coordinator worked and the lifeguards took breaks. She’d been in there once before—clean tile floors, working soap dispensers, and air conditioning. She needed that now.

She opened the back door and stepped outside again, sunlight smacking her full in the face as the bass from the music rattled the patio furniture. She squinted against the brightness—and that’s when she saw it. Juicy hadn’t even made it three steps back outside before the sight hit her square in the chest like a punch she wasn’t ready for.

Her steps faltered.

Anika.

She was walking—no, floating—across the concrete pool deck like it was a runway. Her long legs glistened with cocoa butter under the Mississippi sun, her flowy blouse flaring behind her like a flag of war. Her glossy lips curled into a slow, practiced smile as she made a beeline straight toward him.

Smoke.

Juicy stopped, dead in her tracks, eyes narrowing beneath her oversized Dior shades. Her fingers curled around the edge of her phone, the plastic digging into her palms as she watched the scene unfold in front of her like a movie she didn’t want to star in.

Anika reached him first, tilting her head in that way that always seemed rehearsed—chin dipped, lashes low, like she was some music video girl. In her manicured hand was a red solo cup, and she extended it to him like it was a gift.

And Smoke took it. He didn’t even seem to hesitate.

And that smile she knew so well—the one that tugged at just the left side of his mouth, the one he gave her that time—it was there. But it wasn’t for her.

It was for Anika.

Juicy’s stomach twisted so hard she felt dizzy.

She couldn’t hear what was being said, not from across the pool, but she didn’t need the words. The body language told it all. Anika touched his arm, ran her fingers down it with a softness that was far too familiar. And Smoke—he let her.

He didn’t pull away. He didn’t step back.

Whatever he said made Anika laugh—loud, hand to her chest like he’d just told the funniest joke on Earth. Her laugh was sharp, but Smoke didn’t flinch, he simply looked at the woman before him.

Juicy stood frozen, legs locked, sunglasses slipping down her nose. And for a moment, she forgot to breathe. She swallowed hard and turned, walking stiffly back to her lounge chair. She could feel the heat crawling up her neck, but it wasn’t from the sun.

Mary glanced over from her seat, noticing her face immediately. “Girl. What happened?”

Juicy dropped down beside her, yanking her towel across her lap and pushing her shades all the way up to hide her eyes.

“Nothin’.” She said quickly, but her voice betrayed her.

Mary blinked, followed her line of sight. “Wait. Is that…?”

“Yep.”

“And he’s talkin’ to her?”

“Yep.”

Mary let out a long whistle. “Oh, she was t playin’.”

Juicy didn’t say anything. She didn’t have to.

Because from where she sat, she could still see it all—the way Anika leaned against the fence, the way she kept angling her body so Smoke had a full view of her chest every time she flipped her hair. And worse, the way he looked.

Relaxed.

Entertained.

Interested.

It made Juicy’s throat tighten. She bit the inside of her cheek so hard she tasted copper.

Just this morning, he was grabbing her by the waist in her bedroom, whispering things in her ear that made her knees weak. She thought—hell, she felt—like something was building between them. Slow. Intense. Real.

But now he was out here laughing it up with a girl who wore matching designer bikinis and had two-toned highlights like they were still in a 702 music video.

And all Juicy could do was watch. It’s what she always did. What she bad grew accustomed to do.

“You good?” Mary asked again, voice softer this time.

Juicy forced a smile, but it barely held. “Course I am. Why would anyone be? I ain’t worried about no dude.”

But she was. And she hated herself for it.

Because no matter how hard she tried to sit still, her eyes kept flicking back to them. Anika was talking with her hands now, and Smoke was nodding, sipping whatever was in that damn cup. His gold chain glinted in the sunlight as he gave a smile again.

And maybe that was the part that stung the most.

He didn’t look mad anymore.

Didn’t look bothered about her walking away yesterday. Didn’t look like he even remembered.

She watched Anika press a hand to his chest—flat palm, fingers splayed like she was claiming him—and Juicy’s body tensed.

Maybe he really was feeling her. Maybe Smoke really was the type to flirt up a storm and move on the second a girl made him work too hard. Maybe all of their tension, all the flirting and teasing and late-night phone calls, meant more to her than it ever did to him.

She clenched her jaw and leaned back in her chair, trying to act like she didn’t care. Like she didn’t just see the boy who made her heart beat faster let another girl touch him like he was hers.

But inside, she was fuming.

And worst of all—hurt.

The kind of hurt you can’t even name out loud, because it’d mean admitting you care more than you said you did.

So instead, she crossed her arms. Pressed her lips into a hard line. And kept her eyes forward, pretending like she didn’t notice when Anika threw her head back in another laugh.

But she noticed.

She noticed everything.

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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐬𝐭 & 𝐅𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 🗑️ 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐞 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐬★ ★ ★ ★ ★