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How are you my queen up yk I had to come check up on my gworlâ¤ď¸
hi my sweet baby, iâm alright. been adulting fr. working, just got my new apartment, itâs been a lot! but just blessed to have the life i obtain. how are you?
DEEP, ROSY AND PINK. That was the only way to describe the intense flush of your freckled cheeks, startled by the tan of your skin that went from caramel to earthy brown in days of soaking love from the sun. Being here was a dreamâone that you couldnât bring yourself to wake up from. Not yet.
A vintage filter flickers to life, bathing the screen in golden St. Lucian sunlight that spills through the open balcony of your Mediterranean oasis. The space feels like a dreamâterra-cotta tiles underfoot, cream-colored brick walls draped in ivy and trailing flowers, an indoor waterfall trickling softly in the background. The bedroom is an open sanctuary, sheer white curtains billowing around a wooden four-poster bed, its canopy draped lazily over rumpled white sheets. Â
And there, in the center of it allâhim.Â
Lying sprawled on his back, deep in sleep, his massive frame takes up nearly the entire bed. Dark brown hairâalmost black in the shadows, but warm bronze where the sun catches itâfans out across the pillow like spilled ink. The tattoos covering his arm and creeping up his neck stand out starkly against sun-kissed skin, muscular chest rising and falling in slow, even breaths. Even in rest, thereâs something commanding about himâthe natural scowl of his brows, the sharp cut of his jawline, to his full lips slightly parted. Â
You zoom in slowly, your voice a hushed, adoring whisperâ Â
âLook at you⌠âSo handsome.â Â
The camera lingers on his faceâthe faint freckles dusting his nose, his lashes brushing his cheeks, down to the stubborn set of his expression even in sleep. You bite back a giggle, leaning closer. Â
âBabyâŚ?âÂ
No response. Not even a twitch. Â
Another soft laugh escapes you as you adjust the frame, capturing the way morning light paints him in gold. Â
âOut cold,â you murmur, fondness dripping from every syllable. Â
The scene holdsâjust for a momentâbefore the camera shifts, panning over the tropical paradise outside, the sound of waves crashing in the distance.Â
A burgues script title card flashes:Â Â
My love letter to you.Â
The camera catches the delicate flicker of your French-tipped toes as you peel yourself from the bedâmoving like a ghost to not disturb him. The lens follows your path through the sprawling villa, gliding over terracotta floors kissed by sunlight, past open-air archways draped in bougainvillea, until you find the perfect spotâa plush, low-slung sofa nestled between an indoor garden and the infinity poolâs edge. Â
You angle the camera carefully across from you, and there you are.Â
The sun has painted your skin richerâyour freckles somehow more pronounced, scattered like constellations across your cheeks and nose. A faint pink tinge dusts the high points of your faceâpart sunburn, part blush from pure contentment. Your hair is a masterpieceâlong, full French curl braids cascading over shoulders, blending seamlessly with loose ringlets that catch the light like spun gold. They frame your round face perfectlyâaccentuating full, arched brows, dark cat-like lashes, and lips so plush and pink they look perpetually bitten. Â
Your neon orange bikini topâstreaked with deep pink swirlsâclings to your heavy, voluptuous curves, the ruching at the sides straining just slightly from the weight of your breasts. An anklet and sandals in matching pink rest nearby, abandoned for comfort. Your wrists jingle with charm bracelets as you fold yourself onto the sofa, knees tucked under you like a daydream given human form. Â
You are sinful innocence incarnateâa doll with a devilâs smirk and an angelâs glow. Â
A delicate hand lifts, waving at the camera as your voice comes out smooth, sweetâyet laced with something deeper. Â
âHi, babies. ItâsâŚbeen a while.âÂ
The camera drinks you inâthis vision of sun-soaked serenityâbefore you finally take a breath and lean forward, ready to tell your story. Â
But firstâa wicked little grin curls at the corner of your mouth.
âLetâs catch up.âÂ
The vintage filter softens your features like a sun faded Polaroid as you tuck a loose curl behind your ear, exhaling with a wistful smile. Â
âSoâYou're probably wondering where we've been."Â
The lens lingers on your faceânostalgia flickering in your dark eyes as you glance past the camera, like you can still see the walls of your old New Orleans shotgun house behind it. That cozy, creole haven with its peeling paint and humming ceiling fans, where the scent of jasmine and Erenâs cooking curled through every room. Home.Â
âSix months changes things," you murmur, âAnd, well...life happened."Â
A breath.  Â
ââRenâs meal prep business blew up."Â
The confession comes with a giggle, like even now it still feels surreal. The Seoul deal had landed like a lightning strikeâsome high-end Korean health conglomerate offering stupid money for exclusive rights to his keto chicken bowls and Creole-spiced shrimp packs. Â
âYou saw the anniversary live, right? The one whereâ" You bite your lip,ââYeah. Anyway. Two days later, they slid into his email with a contract thicker than his arm.âÂ
But? The logistics were brutal. Endless flights between NOLA and Incheon, you both exhausted, missing each other achingly in the stretches between. You mimic Erenâs signature scowl, deepening your voiceâ
â'Either come with me or Iâm burninâ the passport, Bunny.'"Â
The move to Korea had been a whirlwindâthrilling at first. Neon-lit streets, steaming bowls of tteokbokki at 3AM, Erenâs hands possessive on your waist as he showed you his Seoul between meetings. But then... Â
Your smile falters. Â
âIt got lonely."Â
No Sunday gumbo with your momma. No impromptu BBQs with your cousins spilling onto the porch. Just the two of you in a sleek high-rise, struggling with subway maps and missing the warmth of your people. Â
âWe were happy, butâhollow?"Â
You press a hand to your sternum, like you can still feel the echo of it.Â
You then exhale softly, curling your fingers around the edge of the sofa as you confess, âWe needed a breakâAnd âRenâs birthday was the perfect excuse to escape."
The waves crash lazily in the background as you tilt your head, sunlight catching the gold hoops in your ears.Â
âSt. Lucia was his dream. Warm water, no schedules, no âcorporate meetingsââ" You roll your eyes playfully, but the lightness doesnât quite reach the tension in your shoulders. Â
Then, quieterâ Â
âBut...he hasnât been handling twenty-nine the way I thought he would?âÂ
You bite your lip, eyes flickering toward the bedroom where he still sleeps.Â
âHe keeps saying shit likeâ" You deepen your voice into another gruff imitation of him, â'Damn, Bunny. Iâm gettinâ old. Need to settle down before my knees give out.'"Â
You shake your head, âItâs not just jokes, though. Heâs been different. Obsessing over timelines, talking about legacy.âÂ
Your fingers trace idle patterns on your thigh, avoiding the cameraâs gaze for a second. Â
âAnd then one night, he justâ" You swallow hard, ââŚHe said he wanted a baby.âÂ
You curl into yourself slightly, arms wrapping around your middle as if bracing for impact. Â
âI mean...we always talked about it. But..." you shrug helplessly, "You guys know I donât plan on doing thisâ" You gesture vaguely at the camera, âOnce weâre married with kids. And I love that you guys have been with us through everything. But..."
A shaky breath. Â
âI never expected it to be now, you know?âÂ
The air between you and the lens feels thickâcharged with something unspoken. Then, abruptly, you straighten, blinking away the wetness in your eyes as a slow, secretive smile tugs at your lips.
âBefore I bring myself to tearsâwell, just watch."
The burgues script appears again.Â
ST. LUCIA THROUGH YOUR EYES.Â
A montage flickers to lifeâeach frame saturated with golden sunlight and laughter, the ocean breeze tangling in your hair as St. Lucia unfolds around you both like a dream. Â
The first day. âYou in a sheer, plum wrap dress that clings to every curve, standing barefoot on the villaâs terrace as Erenâs hands slide around your waist from behind. His lips brush your shoulderââMy pretty fuckinâ Bunny,â before he nips at your earlobe, making you giggle and swat at him. Â
That night. A low-lit restaurant nestled right on the beach, lanterns casting a honeyed glow over your faces. Youâre seated at a candlelit table, the ocean breeze tousling the loose waves of your dark hair. The camera catches you mid-laughâa plunging white dress clinging to every dangerous curve of your body, the neckline dipping just low enough to tease the swell of your heavy tits. Â
You flash a mischievous grin at the lens, dragging your fingertip through the frosting of the miniature birthday cake the staff brought outââFor my birthday boy,â before sucking the sweetness off your finger with an exaggerated pop.Â
The camera pans to Eren.Â
Oh, God.Â
A crisp white button-up clings to his muscular frame like a second skin, his sleeves rolled up to expose those tattooed forearms. His dark hair is slicked back in a low bunâjawline sharp enough to cut glassâgreen eyes glinting with something between hunger and amusement as he watches you. Â
Without breaking eye contact with the camera, he leans inâdragging his tongue between your lips, stealing the last traces of frosting straight from your mouth. Â
You let out a breathy giggle, cheeks flushing as he pulls back with a smirkâââShit tastes better on you."Â
 The second week. A bustling street market. You wear a sage green crochet bikini top and high-waisted denim shorts, sandals dangling from one hand as Eren feeds you bites of spiced plantains off his fork. His thumb swipes sauce from your bottom lip, then slowly licks it off, eyes locked on yours while vendors wolf whistle in the background under your flushed squeaking for him to stop.Â
That afternoon? A lively, sun-drenched outdoor hair salon tucked under a canopy of palm leaves and strung with colorful beads that clink softly in the breeze. Youâre perched on a low wooden stool, surrounded by four St. Lucian auntiesâtheir hands moving in a hypnotic blur as they section, twist, and fold your thick, dark curls into an intricate masterpiece. Â
Erenâs deep chuckle rumbles behind the cameraââLook at my baby, lookinâ like prettier than the ocean.âÂ
You go to stick your tongue out at him, but thatâs when one of the women chides you gently in KwĂŠyòlââHold still, darling!ââbefore dissolving into warm laughter with the others. The rhythmic swish-swish of hair being braided fills the air, fingers tugging just enough to make you pout. Â
Another day. The rainforest. âYou in a khaki mini-skirt and a tied-up tank, shrieking as your sandal slips on a mossy rockâonly for Eren to catch you mid-fall, his biceps flexing as he hauls you upright with a growl.Â
âWatch âyour feet, woman. You break an ankle, Iâm carryinâ you everywhere from now on.âÂ
That evening. A local elderâ"Banana Man," as you dubbed himâgrinned toothlessly as he guided Erenâs hands around a machete, teaching him to split a ripe banana stalk. Eren listens intently, nodding, repeating phrases in rough-but-earnest Creole while you beam beside him, fingers laced through his free hand in support. Â
And finally? Sunset. The beach. You in a flowy, butter-yellow sundress, bare feet sinking into warm sand as the Banana Man and another woman chuckles, handing you both each a piece of freshly-cut fruit.Â
Behind you, you hear the woman fussing at Eren in the same melodic dialect, âOu pral koupe dwèt ou yo!,â Youâll chop your fingers off!âher tone exasperated but fond.Â
You bite back a giggle, still focused on your own fruit, not daring to glance over. Â
"Are you givin' her a hard time?" you call out, voice lilting with amusement. Â
Erenâs response is soft, almost too casualâ Â
âNot at all, baby."Â
A pause. Thenâ Â
ââŚMight need some help from you, though."Â
You roll your eyes playfully, turning with a grinâ Â
And the world stops. Â
Because there he is. Â
On one knee.Â
The machete abandoned beside him, replaced by a velvet box cradled in his trembling hands. His faceâusually so composed, so controlledâis raw with emotion, eyes glistening under the sunset. Â
"Mwen vle ou pou tout rès vi mwen," he raspsâI want you for the rest of my life.Â
A sob tears from your throat before you can stop it. Your hands fly to your mouth, the piece of fruit tumbling forgotten into the sand as your knees nearly give out. Â
âWiâYESâoh my GOD!"Â
You're in his arms before he can even finish, nearly knocking him over as you collapse against his chest, babbling yes in every language you knowâCreole, English, everythingâbetween desperate kisses and tearful laughter. Â
The camera cuts back to you nowâsunlight catching the glint of tears still clinging to your lashes as you hold up your left hand, the diamond glinting like captured starlight. Heavy. Perfect. His.Â
âWe're getting married!â you whisper yell, voice trembling with a giddy, breathless laughâbut it fades too fast. Â
"...Havenât been able to get pregnant, though."Â
A shaky breath. The words taste like salt and something sharper. Â
âWe tried. A couple times. And then...weknew."Â
Your throat works around the weight of it. Â
ââDoctor ran tests. There'sâ" A tiny, broken noise, âA lot."Â
Your gaze drops to your lap, where your other hand fists in the fabric of your slip. Â
âErenâŚhas given up so much for our content. Let the world into us. Butâ"Â
A tear splashes onto your knee. Then another. You don't even notice until your voice cracks. Â
âAll he wants now is privacy. His wife. A baby.âÂ
You swipe at your cheeks with the back of your hand, laughing wetlyââAnd I couldnât evenâ"Â
The sentence dies. Â
For a long moment, there's just the sound of the ocean and your unsteady breathing. Then, so quiet the mic barely catches itâ Â
"It felt like I failed him."Â
Your laughter waversâthin and wateryâas tears streak hot down your cheeks. You swipe at them with trembling fingertips, shaking your head as you murmur, âSorry, sorry,â to the empty air. Â
Your voice steadies, even as the tears keep falling. Â
âBut weâre here, in St.Lucia. And I get to spend the rest of my life with the man I love.âÂ
You tilt your face up toward the sunlight, closing your eyes for just a secondâ Â
But thatâs when the sound of heavy footsteps on tile makes your breath catch.Â
And there he is.
The camera doesnât catch his faceâjust the sheer mass of him, silhouetted against the morning light. Long dark hair, streaked with gold where the sun touches it. Broad shoulders, tattoos creeping up the side of his neck. His bare chest is a canvas of sun-kissed skin, scattered with moles and faint freckles. Â
But you see all of himâthe deep green of his eyes, hazel flecks burning under heavy brows. The natural frown etched into his features, lips full and pink, parted as he raspsâ Â
âWhy the hell ainât you in bed?âÂ
His voice is sleep-rough, edged with concern. Â
ââŚâCouldnât sleep,â you murmur, âGot dressed.â
Silence.Â
His thumb suddenly grazes your cheek, catching a stray tear. His touch is rough but tender, tilting your face up toward him as he gruntsâ Â
ââYou good?âÂ
His hand dwarfs your face, fingers tipping your chin up further. You blink up at him through damp lashes, lips curling into a soft smile despite the lingering tears.Â
ââWas just talkin' to our little family," you say, thumb brushing the camera lens gentlyââThey miss you."Â
âI miss you in bed," he counters, voice a low, sleep-rough rumble that sends heat prickling up your neck. Â
A breathless giggle escapes you as you glance at the time.
âBaby, itâs barely noon.âÂ
Your fingers catch his wrist, tugging lightlyââCome sit with me?"Â
He hesitatesâthen shakes his head, jaw tightening slightly.
âIâll âshow face in a bit," he grunts, ââGotta shower first."Â
âAnd then youâll come?"Â
"Mhm."Â
The affirmation is gruff, but his grip on your chin tightens as he suddenly leans down, claiming your mouth in a deep, possessive kissâtongue dragging slow over your bottom lip before pulling away with a wet pop.Â
And then, heâs gone.
You sigh playfully, shaking your head with a knowing smile as you watch him stalk offâ"That's him in a good mood," you murmur, rolling your eyes affectionately before your expression shiftsâmischief sparking in your gaze. Â
âWell, what he doesn't know is I've got a little surprise.âÂ
You bite your bottom lip, fingers tapping against your thigh.
"For him... and you guys."
 A sly wink, âYou know I can't come on here without giving y'all the other part of our channel."Â
With that, you hop up from the sofaâbare feet padding silently across the sun-warmed terracotta floors as you tiptoe through the sprawling Mediterranean villa. Â
The outdoor shower comes into viewâa stunning mosaic of turquoise and deep cobalt tiles, sunlight dappling through the latticework. The sound of rushing water meets your ears first, thenâ Â
Him.Â
Eren stands fully nude beneath the sprayâa masterpiece of masculine power carved in ink and muscle. Water sluices down the hard planes of his tattooed chest, his biceps flexing as he runs a hand through his dark, wet hairâpushing it back just enough to reveal the sharp cut of his jaw, the sinful curve of his mouth. Droplets cling to his long lashes, framing those deep green eyes as he tips his head back, throat working as the water cascades over him. Â
His body is ridiculousâabs like forged steel, thick thighs taut with restrained strength. And thenâthere. Between his legs, heavy and full even at rest, his cock hangs thick against his thigh, the flushed tip glistening under the water.Â
You carefully prop the camera up, angling it perfectly to capture the outdoor shower's decadent scene before slipping the sheer coverup from your shouldersâletting it pool at your feet in a whisper of fabric. Your neon orange bikini clings to every curve as you step under the arched entrance, hips swaying with playful purpose as you approach his towering frame.
The moment your arms slide around his waistâlips pressing a teasing kiss to the small of his water-slick backâhis entire body tenses. Then, slowly, he turns.Â
One large hand cups your chin, tilting your face up as he looms over youâthose hunter-green eyes dark with warning.Â
âDu kleine Unruhestifterin," he murmurs, voice rough.Â
You little troublemaker.
His tongue lolls out lazilyâa silent command. You obey instantly, your own tongue slipping past your lips to meet his. The slide of them together pulls a shudder from you, your eyes rolling back as he deepens the kiss with a growlâclaiming your mouth like he owns it. Because he does.
When you finally pull awayâgiving his bottom lip one last tug between your teethâthe noise he makes is pure animal. A deep, possessive grunt that sends heat spiraling through your core. You giggle, high and breathless, licking the taste of him from your lips.
âBe nice," you whisper, fluttering your lashes up at himâequal parts angel and devil.Â
His fingers thread through your French curls, gently cradling your head as he tucks your giggles against his chestâthe steady thump of his heartbeat beneath your ear. Then, finally, he turns his gaze toward the cameraâvoice a low, affectionate rumble.Â
âSheâs always been good at persuadinâ me.âÂ
You drape your arms around his neck, pressing your body flush against his as your giggles bubble upâtits bouncing against him playfully.Â
ââYou happy now? You love all our babies?" you chirp.Â
His response is a deep, vibrating âMhm," as his hands slide down to grip your hips possessively. You snuggle closer, tucking your face into the crook of his shoulder with a satisfied hum, breathing in his scentâsandalwood, something distinctly him.Â
But while you're nestled against him like a content kitten, Eren has other plans. His lips quirk in that cocky half-smile as he mouths âI lied," directly at the cameraâhis wink full of mischief before he nuzzles back into you, knowing damn well what he just did. Â
The camera now cuts to a sprawling deep green sofa bed in a sun drenched corner of the villa, where you're sprawled out in nothing but a skimpy gold bikiniâback arched, hips tilted, ass upâyour skin glistening under the Caribbean light. Â
You pout dramatically at the lens, running your hands over your thighs.Â
âUgh, I swear I wonât get a full tan here!â you whine, twisting to show the untouched skin of your inner thighsâyour fingers tracing the faint tan lines with exaggerated frustration. Â
Before you can continue your lament, a sharp smack! echoes through the roomâErenâs palm landing firmly on your ass, making the flesh jiggle.Â
âMove," he rumbles, already nudging you asideâhis natural dominance taking over as he manspreads onto the sofa bed like he owns it. His tattoos flex under the golden light, one thick thigh nudging yours apart as he settles in.Â
Your lips purse into an exaggerated pout, eyes fluttering up at him with faux hurt.
âYou're being mean.â
Eren's stares. His index finger then crooks, wagging you closer with that effortless, commanding ease that always makes your stomach flip. You slide toward him, hips swaying playfully, until his hand cups the back of your neck and pulls you into a searing kissâquick but deep, his tongue swiping possessively over yours before pulling away with a wet smack.
âTut mir leid, Schatz," he rumblesâI'm sorry, babyâhis rough German apology curling around your ears like smoke. Â
You grin at the camera, freckles standing out against your brown skin as you rub your hands up and down Erenâs tattooed forearms.Â
âGuess what we have?" you chirp, excitement bubbling in your tone. Â
Eren arches a brow, his deep voice dry.Â
âFan mail?"Â
"Fan mail!" you squeak, immediately digging into the pretty stack of envelopes beside youâtied together with a silk ribbon. You pluck one out, scanning it before correcting, âFan question, actually."Â
Clearing your throat, you read aloudâ
â'I love you both so muchâyour dynamic, the way you tease each other, how passionate you are...Awe!â You pause, pressing a hand to your chest, touched.Â
â'Okay, okayâso, I'm kind of shy asking this, but I'm in a relationship, and my boyfriend loves when I ride him, but I...don't really know what to do? Any tips?'"
Your lips curl into a sly grin as you shift your hips against Erenâs thigh, fingers drumming playfully on his chest.
âSo, letâs talk about cowgirlâfun fact, it actually dates waaaay back," you purr, eyes sparkling with mischief. Â
ââŚSome historians trace it to ancient tantric texts, others say it was practically sacred in certain culturesâbut letâs be real," your curls sway as you tilt your head, âThe real magic? âHow many ways you can make this classic feel brand new."Â
Erenâs palm thwaps your ass lightlyâa silent get on with it.Â
âThere are severalâyes, severalâways to ride," you announce, holding up the corresponding number of fingers, âAnd lucky for you..." You pat Erenâs thigh like heâs your favorite piece of gym equipmentââ..Iâve got the perfect demonstrator right here."
His grunt is half-amused, half-exasperated as you swing a leg over him, straddling his lap playfully.Â
âConsider this your full tutorial.â
Your posture shifts instantlyâshoulders rolling back, lips parting with slow intention as your gaze locks onto Erenâs. The camera catches the way his pupils dilate just slightly when you run your tongue along your mouth, your voice dropping into that toneâthe one thatâs equal parts instructor and temptress. Â
âLesson one," you purr, fingertips skating up his chest, âStart with him comfortable. Relaxed."Â
Your hips roll in a lazy circle against his lap, the heat between your thighs already unmistakable.Â
âAnd obviously...hard. Thatâs the goal."Â
You nip at his earlobe, breathing a giggle against his skin when his grip tightens on your waist.
âBaby," you murmur, dragging your tongue along the shell of his ear, âHowâre you enjoying St. Lucia?â Â
Erenâs jaw flexesâthe only tell heâll give youâbut you feel him hardening beneath you, the thick ridge of him pressing insistently against your core. Your laugh is velvet-wrapped mischief as you grind down harder, relishing the way his breath hitches.Â
âMmm, thatâs the reaction we want."
Your fingers glide over the bulging curves of his biceps, kneading the taut muscle with deliberate appreciation.Â
âArenât you having fun with me?" you coo, batting your lashes up at him through the dark fringe of them. Â
Erenâs eyesâalways tracking youâdarken further, his voice scraping low from his chest.
âYou know how I feel beinâ here.â
âGood boy,â you softly praise, lips curling into that wicked little smileâthe one that makes his jaw twitch. Your hands slide down to rub slow, teasing circles over his thick thighs, fingertips ghosting dangerously close to where he really wants them.Â
âThank you for being so...communicative.âÂ
Then, with a sinuous shift of your hips, you arch deeper into his lapâyour gaze flicking back to the camera.Â
âNow, tell meâdoes our birthday boy deserve somethingâŚspecial today?"Â
The camera catches Eren perfectlyâhis dark hair pulled into a loose bun, those few stubborn tendrils escaping to frame his glaring, predatory expression. Heâs pure power sprawled beneath youâlegs spread wide, chest rising with each controlled breathâwatching, waiting, like heâs deciding whether to make a move or let you play longer. Â
Thenâyour hands hook into the waistband of his sweatpants.Â
A sharp inhale. A quick tug. Â
âOh.âÂ
Your gasp is high, breathy, practically whiny as your big, round eyes drink him inâhis cock springing free, thick, flushed and already leaking just from your teasing.
âLook at you," you mewl, voice dripping with honeyed reverenceâlike heâs something sacred, "âAll for me?"Â
Erenâs smirk is barely thereâjust a twitch of those sinful lipsâbefore his hand fists in your hair, tilting your face up to his. Â
âAlways."
Your gaze flicks back to the camera with that signature mix of sweet and sinfulâletting them in on the moment before your attention returns to him.Â
âMake him ready for you first," you instructâyour lips parting slightly, tongue swiping along your bottom lip as if already tasting him. Â
Eren's eyes darken, his grip tightening on your thigh. Â
ââYou thirsty?â he rasps.Â
You nod eagerly, biting down on your plush lip with those big, pleading eyes.  Â
He doesn't hesitate. His calloused fingers grip your chin, tilting your face up as he spits directly into your open mouthâa thick, wet string of saliva that lands heavy on your tongue. Â
âMmmâ" You swallow instinctively, eyes fluttering shut as his palm cracks against your cheek.
âZeigâs ihnen," he growlsâShow them.Â
And oh, you do. Â
Your tongue drags slow and filthy from the thick base of him all the way upâa long, indulgent lick that leaves a glistening trail along his length. The taste of himâpure Erenâfloods your senses as you swirl your tongue around his swollen tip, savoring the bead of precum that leaks onto your taste buds. Â
Thenâyour lips part wider, sinking down onto him inch by inch until heâs pressed against the back of your throat. The soundâwet, filthy, obsceneâfills the room as your nose brushes against his pelvis, swallowing around him with deliberate patience. Â
Erenâs groan is low and rough, fingers tightening in your hair as he mutters something in Germanâpraise or a curse, you canât tellâbut the way his hips twitch upward tells you everything you need to know. Â
âGood fuckinâ girl.âÂ
Your movements grow desperate, hungryâswollen lips struggling to stretch around his impossible girth, every inch of him throbbing against your tongue as you hollow your cheeks and force yourself deeper. The sounds you makeâtiny, choked mewls turning into breathless whimpersâonly spur him on. His cock hits the back of your throat, again and again, the slick slap of skin against skin filling the air as you drool around him, spit dripping messily down your chin. Â
When you finally pull awayâgasping, lips shiny and ruinedâyou whine at the loss, your fingers immediately wrapping around what your mouth couldnât take. Both hands jerk him off in tight, twisting strokesâyour tongue darting out to swirl around his leaking tip, collecting the thick beads of precum and licking them up like a starving little thing. Â
Erenâs voice is ragged, his German words rough and gutturalââSo verdammt gierig..."Â
âSo greedy..." you translate breathlessly, giggling around his cock like itâs something adorable, something sweet, despite the filth dripping from your chin. Then? Youâre practically bobbing your palms around his dick, going even lower than before.Â
Erenâs thighs tense, muscles straining beneath ink-stained skin as he curses, fingers tightening in your curls.
âFuckâ" His head tilts back, jaw clenched, as he uses your palmsâhips lifting off the bed to fuck up into your hand with sharp, punishing thrusts. You mewl once more as your mouth follows back onto his tipâsucking, sucking down. The camera catches it allâhis dominance, your submission, the sinful wetness of every thrust as you put your mouth back on himâuntil finally, with a growl that rumbles through your bones, he yanks you off with a filthy pop.Â
âEnough."Â Â
Your lips are parted, panting, still aching for himâbut his grip on your hair tightens, forcing you to meet his gaze. Â
âYou want to ride?" He rasps, ââCome fuckinâ ride me.âÂ
âMm, babyââ you mewl, âThis is a tutorial, shouldnât weââ
Erenâs response is interruptingâhis thick fingers hooking into the flimsy fabric of your bikini bottoms, yanking them aside with a roughness that makes your breath hitch. The sudden slap of his palm against your pussyâsharp, meanâhas your hips jerking forward with it. Â
âKeep goinâ then," he growls, fingers beginning to rub rough circles over your swollen clit, his other hand gripping your ass cheek tight enough to bruise.Â
âTalk.âÂ
Your body shudders, thighs trembling as you struggle to stay composedâyour giggles turning into more breathless whimpers, your voice wavering but still playful as you turn back to the camera. Â
âOâOkay, soâonce heâs ready," you stutter, cheeks flushed deep bronze, âYou justâah!âsink down on himâslow, okay?â You bite your lip, "Especially ifâmmf!âif youâve got someone as big as my 'RenââÂ
Eren grunts, dragging the slick, flushed head of his cock through your dripping foldsâletting the camera catch the obscene wetness coating him before he smacks your ass hard enough to leave a red handprint. Â
âAinât nobody as big as me," he snarls, voice thick with arroganceâhis grip tightening on your waist as he lines himself up, the heavy tip of him pressing teasingly against your entrance.Â
âBring it to me.âÂ
Your hand reaches back, fingers curling into the flesh of his thigh as you lock eyes with the cameraâyour lips parting around a shaky exhale as you begin to sink down onto him. Â
Erenâs grip shifts suddenlyâhis calloused fingers seizing your jaw, forcing your face to stay angled toward the lens as he tugs you down with relentless pressure. The stretch is unrealâyour walls clenching around his thick cock inch by inch as your breath hitches in your throat. Â
Your eyes roll backâvoice slurring as you try to keep instructing through the haze of pleasure, "YâYou wannaâmmfâtake all of itâ"Â
Erenâs his hips jerk up hard, forcing another inch insideâhis voice thick with arrogance, âYou feelinâ me?âÂ
You whimper, hands gripping his thighs as you force yourself down, your slick walls yielding around him until your ass meets his hipsâfully seated. Your face twistsâlips parted in a silent moan, eyes squeezing shut before fluttering open to find him instead of the camera. Â
And thenâGodâyour folds spurt a fresh rush of cream against him, your body betraying you completely as you lose all semblance of control, trembling in his lap. Â
âLook at you,â he rasps, âActinâ like a big fuckinâ girl, little one.âÂ
Your arms snake around his neck, clinging to him as you press a soft, pleading kiss to his lipsâwhispering against them in Creole, just for himââLèt mwen mennen, chĂŠri..."
Let me lead, babyâŚÂ
Eren hesitatesâhis dark eyes searching yoursâbefore he exhales sharply through his nose. He pulls back just enough to guide your palms onto his chest, lips pressing against your ring, to both of your palms in turnâa silent permissionâbefore his arms drop to his sides, muscles taut with restraint. Â
ââGo âhead.âÂ
Your voice then lilts sweetly, hips rolling in slow, teasing circles against his lap. Â
âOkay, so firstâwarm up," you murmur, fingers threading through the loose tendrils of his dark hair, tugging just enough to make his jaw clench. Â
âYou wanna start slow," you breathe, eyelashes flutteringâthough your breath hitches when he twitches inside you, thick and impatient.Â
âIt's all aboutâmmâconnection..."Â
You whine a littleâhigh-pitched, adorableâyour folds clutching desperately at his cock with every tiny shift. Â
âTâTake your time adjusting," you instruct shakily, though it sounds more like you're reminding yourselfâyour thighs trembling as you rise up until just the tip of him remains, then sink back down with a breathy sigh. Â
Eren's hands flex against the sofaâhis nostrils flaring as he watches you, taunting him with your lazy pace. But he lets you lead, just like you askedâeven if his teeth grind together when your nails scrape against his scalp. Â
ââFeel good, baby?âÂ
Eren just growls, his hips jerking up just enough to make your entire body twitch. Â
âQuit playinâ."
Your lips press a tender kiss to the tip of his noseâsoft, sweetâand he retaliates by bumping his nose against yours in return, making you giggle breathlessly. Â
âOkay,â you whisper, âFirst three positionsâthink of âem like gears,â you explain, hips rolling in slow, indulgent circlesâyour thighs flexing as you shift upward, grinding rather than bouncing. Â
âFirst gearâeasy, sensual, all about the tease.â
You demonstrate, your back arching beautifully as you rock against himâyour gaze locked onto his, heavy-lidded and dripping with intent, âItâs more for your pleasure, butââÂ
One of your hands lifts, twirling a loose curl around your fingerâyour French braids cascading over your shoulders, the scent of vanilla and sunshine clinging to them. Â
âYou keep his attention by making him watch.âÂ
Your other hand slides up your own bodyâfingers trailing over your collarbone before you hook them into the ties of your bikini top. With a flick, the fabric falls awayâyour heavy breasts bouncing free, nipples peaked and begging for touch. Â
Erenâs nostrils flare, but he stays stillâletting you lead, even as his cock twitches deep inside you. Â
âSecond gearââ
 Your breath hitches as you shift again, riding him with more purposeâyour hips undulating in slow, delicious waves. Â
âThird gearââÂ
And then you grind, your clit rubbing firmly against the base of him with every movement. A rush of pleasure floods your sensesâyour walls fluttering around him as you struggle to keep your voice steady. Â
âThâThis oneââ You swallow hard, your words slurring slightly, âMightâmmfâhit your spotsââÂ
âYeah?â
 Eren suddenly raspsâarrogant, smugâhis fingers flexing against your hips but still refusing to help. Â
A desperate little whimper escapes your lipsââYâYeahââas your hips roll faster, grinding against him like a toy wound too tight, chasing that sweet, throbbing pleasure building low in your belly. Â
Eren stays perfectly still beneath youâjust watching with those eyes, his low voice taunting as he growls, Â
âC'mon, baby. Keep goinâ.âÂ
Your breath catchesâa sharp gasp ripping from your throat as your head falls back, braids cascading over your shoulders. But Erenâs fingers snap up, wrapping around your throat in a firm grip, forcing your gaze back to him. Â
âNah, nahâeyes on me," he rasps, thumb brushing your pulse pointâââWant you to see me watchinâ you.â
Tears well in your eyesâspilling over as your climax crashes into you with a sob, your cream gushing around him, coating his balls in slick heat. Â
Eren tsksâhis grip tightening on your ass cheek, tugging your grinding hips right where he wants them as he murmurs low in German, Â
"So schĂśn... so verdammt schĂśn fĂźr michâŚâÂ
So beautiful... so fuckinâ beautiful for meâŚÂ
Your hips slow to a sensual sway, chest rising and falling with each breath as your curls tumble over your shoulders, framing your breasts like a dark halo. You glance down at Eren through your lashes, lips parted as you try to steady your breathingâbut the second your arms wrap around his neck, you let out a soft, shy giggle, turning toward the camera with a sheepish smile. Â
âOopsâ" you murmur, voice dripping with playful sweetness, âDidnât mean to get so...carried away."
Eren huffs out a rough chuckle, his lips trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses between your breastsââI love watchinâ you like that. Love watchinâ you cum like that."Â
You bite your lip, suppressing another giggle before looking back at the cameraâyour expression shifting back into instructor mode, though your voice is still breathy from pleasure. Â
âSee? The three gearsâalways gonna get you there," you sigh, fingers threading lazily through Erenâs hairââAnd trust me... your manâs gonna love it."
Your lips curl into a lazy, satisfied smile as you glance at the camera, breath still uneven. Â
âNot done yet though,â you humâââMight feel a little sore after that first round, so this is when you just...sit in it. Warm each other up all over again."Â
Your fingers trail down to nudge Eren's chin, tipping his face up toward youâyour eyes softening as you whisper, "âLove you, yeah?"Â
He doesn't answer with wordsâjust tugs your mouth down to his in a slow, deep kiss, tongues sliding together with unhurried heat. His hands roam over your back, fingers pressing possessively into the curve of your hips as you shift slightlyâyour folds grinding lazily along the swollen tip of him, drawing a low groan from his chest. Â
Then, with a breathless shudder, you sink back down onto himâyour lips parting against his in a silent gasp as he fills you completely. The kiss deepens, languid and intoxicating, until you finally pull backâturning toward the camera with flushed cheeks. Â
âThis oneâ" you pant, rocking up and down in slow, shallow motions, ââWe call the lazy cowgirl. No rush, no pressure... just breathing together before the next round."Â
Your hips roll in smooth, rhythmic wavesâyour tongue dragging teasingly along Eren's neck as you murmur against his pulse, âKeep it playful now... this one's for him."Â
Your hands glide over the sculpted planes of his biceps and shoulders, fingertips tracing the ink-dark tattoos as you murmur, âYouâre too handsome, babyâ" between slow, rocking motions. Eren grunts through the praise, dragging you into a deep, appreciative kissâbut you feel it, the way his restraint starts crumbling, the sharp catch of his breath against your lips betraying how badly he wants to take control. Â
You tuck your face into the crook of his shoulder, braids spilling like silk over his skin as you peer behind youâwatching the sinuous arch of your spine, the hypnotic sway of your hips as you move atop him. Â
âOkay," you exhale once more, pulling back just enough to meet the camera's gazeâyour voice dripping with playful mischief, âNext positions are where it gets funâpleasurable for both of you."Â
A giggle bubbles up as you admit, âItâs a silly name, butâwe call this one the shakedown.âÂ
And then you show itâyour ass lifting slightly before shaking in slow, deliberate twists atop him, the motion making your folds clench around his cock in a way that has his fingers digging into your thighs. Â
A harsh smack echoes through the roomâErenâs palm cracking against your ass cheek, leaving a stinging flush in its wake. You gasp, but don't stopâgrinding down harder as he spanks you again, and again, each sharp slap punctuated by his guttural groans. Â
âFuckâ" he grits out, grip bruising as he watches your body jolt with every strike. Â
You whimper through it, tremblingâbut your voice is a pure sultry tease as you murmur to the camera, âYour man's gonna love how this looksâŚâgonna turn him on completely.â
Your arms tighten around his neck, fingers tangling in the hair at his naught as you continue rolling your hips in slow, decadent circlesâFrench curls cascading like dark silk over his shoulders, tickling his chest as you tilt your head. Â
âBaby...you still with me?" you tease, breathless laughter lacing your words as you nudge his temple with your nose, "âYouâve been a little quietâŚâ
Erenâs response is a rough blend of English and German, his voice thick with barely-restrained hunger as his palm cracks against your ass againâharder this timeâforcing a sweet little âMmph!" from your lips as you jolt forward, your mouth brushing his. Â
âScheiĂeâ" he growls, gripping your waist as his other hand lands another stinging slapââDu siehst so verdammt gut ausâ"Â
You look so fuckinâ good.Â
His words dissolve into a shuddering groan as your walls clench around him, your body squeezing him in a slick, greedy rhythm. You bite your bottom lip, catching the cameraâs gaze with a sultry grinâyour voice dropping to a low, instructional purr. Â
âNext oneâs called...the swirl.âÂ
And then you demonstrateâyour hips twisting in slow, hypnotic spirals, muscles fluttering tight around him in a way that wrings a filthy, wet sound from where youâre joined. Erenâs grip turns viciousâhis cock throbbing inside you as your folds suck him deeper with every sinuous roll. Â
âGoddamn, Bunny. Just like that. Shit.â Â
His head is tilting back, groaning as he drags the words out.
Your breath hitches, but you keep goingâgrinding down in relentless circles, your body milking him with every motion as the camera captures every obscene shlick of your arousal coating him. Your hips continue their sinuous swirl, fingertips skimming the hard planes of his chest before crawling up to cradle the back of his neck possessively. Â
âThis is your chance to dominate.â
Eren's head stays tilted back, his hunter-green eyes locked onto yoursâjaw clenched so tight you can see the muscle twitch. His chest heaves with each ragged breath, his cock twitching as your folds clench in another deliberate, milking squeeze. Â
âHellâ" he grunts out, fingers digging into your hips, âThat feels too fuckinâ good.â  Â
âYeah?"Â
âYeah.âÂ
And you smile, rolling your hips in another filthy, slower, perfect circle.
Your gaze locks onto the camera as you plant your feet firmly on the sofaâtightening your thighs around his hips as your fingers drag lower, tracing the hard ridges of his abs with deliberate admiration. Â
"And thisâ" you breathe, ââIs probably your manâs favorite. The expert cowgirl. Where you let him use you to his strength... his advantage."
Your eyes flick down to Eren, lashes fluttering as you coo, âMy manâs so strongââcan fuck me any way he wants to."*Â Â
The second those words leave your lips, Erenâs grip shiftsâhis hands sliding beneath your thighs, fingers digging into the plush skin of your ass as he takes control, tugging you down onto his cock with a slow, purposeful bounce.Â
âThisâooh!âthisâll also hit your spots if you let itâ"Â
You gasp, your words fracturing as his tip drags directly over that spongey sweet spot inside you. Your eyes roll slightlyâa giggle bubbling up as you try to suppress the shiver of pleasure that ripples through you. Â
"Thatâs it," he rasps, his grip tightening as he drives you down harder, faster.
âTake it. Take it. Squeezinâ me just fuckinâ right.âÂ
Your thighs trembleâyour folds fluttering around him as he uses you exactly how he wants, his cock pistoning into that perfect, blissful spot with every snap of his hips. Â
âErenâ" you whimper, your control slippingâyour body melting under the weight of his dominance. Â
âNuh uh,â he grunts, âFeel it.âÂ
Your fingers slide helplessly over the thick ridges of his biceps beneath youâand thatâs when a real, broken whimper claws its way out of your throat, voice trembling as you gasp, Â
âFâFeels tooâmmph!âtoo goodâ"Â
Erenâs response is a rough, impatient tchâhis grip tightening as he growls, âYou ainât been enjoyinâ yourself enough. Hold onto me.âÂ
At those words? Your head lolls back, your body going pliant against him as he pounds youâhis powerful thighs driving you up and down his cock in slow, devastating bounces that leave your vision hazy. Your nails dig into his forearmsâyour whine pitching higher, dissolving into a slurred âMmmphfuhâ!" as your words fail you completely. Â
âI câcanât think.âÂ
And thatâs when you see itâthat untamed, rough-edged side of him that follows him everywhere. The country boy who doesnât ask, just takesâwho fucks you with the same effortless dominance he carries in every other part of his life. His hands slide up to your waist, fingers bruising as he lifts youâthen drops you back onto his cock with a filthy, wet slap, his hips driving up to meet you. Â
âDonât gotta think," he raspsâvoice dark, mean with desire.Â
âJust keep takinâ it.âÂ
Eren's hands lock around your hips like steel bandsâhis thick cock splitting you open with every brutal, upward thrust. This ain't riding anymore. This is him fucking youâclaiming youâhis deep southern drawl rumbling against your ear as he takes over your lesson with rough, possessive authority.Â
âLast one, baby. My fuckin' favoriteâthe Noise Complaint.â
And God, you understand why he named it that the second his powerful thighs flex beneath you. His grip is absoluteâthose big, rough hands lifting your entire body with terrifying ease before slamming you back down onto his cock in slow, devastating drops. The sound is obsceneâa wet, rhythmic clap of skin-on-skin that echoes off the walls, punctuated by your broken little âAh! Ah! Ah!" with every bounce.
Itâs everything that defines himâraw, unfiltered, dominance, that arrogance dialed to eleven. Clap after clap after clapâskin slapping against skin in a rhythm so loud it dares the neighbors to complain. Â
âHear that?" Eren growls, âThatâs the shit I wanna hear.â
You're sobbing nowâpathetic, high-pitched whines of âEâEren!" tumbling from your swollen lips as your body betrays you, clamping down on him in helpless pleasure.Â
âTake your reward for bein' such a good fuckinâ teacher.âÂ
Your fingers clutch at his forearms, desperation creeping into your voice as you whimper, âBaby, pleaseââwanna cum in my favorite position...âÂ
ââThought it was my birthday, huh?âÂ
But you give him those eyesâthe ones that always make him caveâyour lower lip trembling as you hiccup, âPlease?"
Itâs almost adorableâthe way you beg, your tits bouncing with every ragged breath, those big, pleading eyes. How could he say no?Â
âFace first, ass upânow.âÂ
You scramble to obeyâarching your back sexily, pressing your flushed face into the sofa cushions as you present yourself for him. The contrast is starkâyour small frame dwarfed beneath his towering body, your curves trembling as you wait. Â
Erenâs gaze flickers to the cameraâââShe knows how she submits in this position," he rumbles, gripping his cock at the base as he watches your folds drip for him. He drags the thick head of his dick against you, taunting you as he growlsâ
âOnly givinâ it to you if you take all of meâno fussinâ."Â
You bite your lipâyour fingers clenching the cushionsâbefore spreading yourself wider for him, your voice a sweet, breathless whimper.Â
âWonât fuss... âpromise."
His thick thumb presses down on the small of your back, forcing your spine into a deeper arch as he spreads your folds wider with his free hand.Â
âAll of it," he gruntsâand then he sinks into you all at once, his heavy cock stretching you to the limit in one relentless push. Â
You groanâa high, desperate whimper tearing from your throat as your pussy makes a wet pfft sound around him. He doesnât let you adjustâjust tugs halfway out before slamming back in, the sudden stretch making you sob adorably into the cushions. Â
Again. Â
Again.Â
Again. Â
Over and overâuntil the pleasure borders on discomfort, his thick shaft dragging against your walls with brutal precision. Â
âFuck," Eren cursesâhis voice rough as he starts bouncing you on his cock, your hips gripped tight in his hands.
âAlways so fuckinâ tight.âÂ
His groans deepenâlow, drawn-out, almost painedâas your slickness coats him completely.Â
âGoddamn, youâre drowninâ meââ he pants, hips stuttering as your pussy squelches around him with every thrust. Heâs not even lifting you anymoreâjust pounding into you over and over, your cries turning into sweet, broken sobs as you drag his name out pitifully, âEâErennn.âÂ
His breath comes jaggedâhis own control slippingâas he mutters again, âFuckâyouâre so wetâ"Â
And thenâwith one final, punishing thrustâhe buries himself fully inside you, his hips flush against your ass. Â
Thatâs when he moansâreally moansâhis voice slurring.Â
âFuhhhhckkk.âÂ
You whimper backâslurring messily, your words barely coherent as you press your forehead into the cushions.Â
His thrusts slow as he angles his hips just right, grinding the thick head of his cock against that spot once more.Â
âC'mon," he growls, voice rough with urgency, his grip tightening on your hipââGet it out. Wanna feel you drench meâmake a fuckin' mess."Â
He yanks himself out, his cock glistening with your slick as he fists himself hard, head tipping back with a jagged groan. Â
The sudden emptiness makes you whineâbut before you can protest, his palm cracks against your ass hard, the sharp sting forcing another sob from your lips. Â
âRub that clit," he orders, his voice dark with commandââDon't stop 'til you squirt all over me."Â
Your thighs tremble violently as your fingers fly to your swollen clit, circling desperatelyâyour entire body tensing as pleasure coils too tight, too muchâÂ
"âRenââMâgonnaâ!" you wail, your voice breaking into a sweet, shattered sob. Â
He groansâfilthy and approvingâhis strokes on his own cock speeding up as he watches you unravel. Â
âI know,â he rasps, his green eyes burning with lust.Â
âDo it. Cover me."Â
Your back arches violently as your climax explodes out of youâa gushing, uncontrollable flood that soaks his thighs, the sofa, everythingâyour pussy pulsing around nothing as you scream his name. Â
Eren growls, his own release hitting him just as hardâthick ropes of cum painting your trembling ass as he groans through gritted teeth. Â
âGood fuckinâ job, Bunny.â
Your body shudders as the last waves of your climax begin to ebbâbut then, without warning, a different kind of release crashes over you. Soft, warm tears spill down your cheeks, catching you by surprise that you quickly wipe your face. Itâs not just pleasure anymoreâitâs something deeper, more needed, like your body finally surrenders to the intensity of everything you just felt. Â
Eren notices immediately. Â
âC'mere," he murmurs, his voice suddenly tender as he pulls you against him, ignoring the mess between you both. His large hands cradle your face, thumbs brushing away your tears as he tucks you into the safety of his chest. Â
His fingers slide into your braids, stroking gentlyâhis lips pressing against your temple in slow, soothing kisses as he whispers, âYou did so fuckinâ good."Â
You cling to him, your breath hitching as the last tremors of emotionâand pleasureârush through you. His warmth, his scent, the steady thud of his heartbeat beneath your earâit all grounds you, wrapping you in a cocoon of safety. Â
âI got you,â he rumbles, âAlways do.âÂ
Your body melts into him, boneless and spent as you curl your arms around his neck and tuck your face against his skinâhiding from the cameraâs gaze, suddenly shy despite everything youâve just shared. Eren chucklesâa deep, knowing soundâhis fingers tracing idle circles against your lower back. Â
ââNever done that before,â he muses, voice rough with amusementâbut thereâs no teasing in it. Just warmth. Â
You donât answerâjust nuzzle deeper into him, your breaths slow and steady against his chest. And like always, he adjustsâhis knees bending slightly to give you what you need, his frame curling around yours protectively. Â
But thenâhis phone rings. Â
Eren tensesâhis head lifting with a frustrated suck to his teethâbut before he can dismiss it, you murmur, âMight be your Korean investors, baby⌠take it."Â
He exhales through his nose. Â
"Fuckinâ timinâ.â
His lips linger against your templeâwarm and roughâbefore he rises from the sofa, his towering frame momentarily blocking the cameraâs view. You curl your knees to your chest, still glistening with sweat, your wide, round eyes tracing his every movementâthe way his muscles shift beneath his tattooed skin, the way his damp hair clings to the back of his neck. Â
âGot me on international fuckinâ hold," he grumbles, glancing back at you with a smirk. Â
A weak, breathless smile tugs at your lips.
But then your gaze sharpens, studying himâthe way dominance radiates off him even now, the handsomeness etched into every sharp angle of his faceâand something tender swells in your chest. Â
"Need me to translate when they pick up?" you offer softly, tilting your head. Â
His green eyes narrowâdefensive.Â
âWhat you tryinâ to say?"Â
âThat my Koreanâs better than yours."Â
He grabs your discarded top off the floor, entirely dismissing your insultââPut this on," he orders, tossing it toward you. Â
You catch it lazily, shrugging.Â
âNot like they didnât just watch meâ"
âBunny."Â
His voice dropsâa warning. Â
You sigh dramatically but relent, sliding the fabric over your head as he steps closer. His fingers brush your nipples through the materialârough, possessiveâbefore he cups your chin, kissing you briefly, firmly.Â
A command, not a request. Â
You donât kiss backâjust nod with another sigh, letting him suck your bottom lip once more before he pulls away, already striding out of frame.Â
You tie the strings of your top back into place, smoothing the fabric down with a soft, playful smile toward the cameraâyour cheeks still flushed, curls tousled from Erenâs hands. Â
âHope yâall enjoyed fanmail," you hum, "Itâs always fun answering your questions.â
Behind you, Erenâs deep voice rumbles in KoreanâYes, I understand. Iâll contact you after reviewing the contract again.Â
You glance over just in time to see him staring directly at youâchin lifted, green eyes gleaming with challengeâas he over-enunciates each syllable, chest puffed with pride. Â
You roll your eyes hard, fighting a grin as you turn back to the camera and whisper, âHeâs been studying as you can tell.âÂ
For the next few minutes, you chat sweetly with the cameraârambling about random things, laughing as you adjust the camera angleâuntil Eren reappears, a rare, broad grin splitting his face. Â
âThey doubled the investment,â he announces, voice thick with satisfaction. Â
Your hands clap together, âThatâs huge, baby! I knew theyâd love you.â
âLetâs celebrate,â he rumbles, already striding toward the kitchenâââYou hungry?"Â
You nod eagerly, rubbing your arms as you follow his movementsâwatching as he pulls open the fridge, muscles flexing under the dim kitchen lights. Â
âCould make spicy pork stir-fry," he muses, glancing at youââOr that creamy garlic shrimp you like. Maybe both."
You rest your head on your knees, watching him move through the kitchen with that effortless, masculine grace.
âWhatever your heart desires, birthday boy."Â
His shoulders tense slightlyâthe way they always do when heâs deep in thought, jaw locked tight. You notice it instantly. Â
âMon chĂŠri," you say softly in Creole, voice a gentle hum beneath the sizzle of the panâ"DĂŠfroncĂŠ to mâchoireâli plen de tension."
Unclench your jawâitâs full of tension.Â
ââForce of habit.â
âYouâd think you were always unhappy,â you warily murmurâwhich he hears of course.Â
Eren pauses.
âWhy wouldnât I be happy here with you?" he counters gruffly, not looking upâbut you hear it, the defensiveness.Â
ââJust wanna pick your brain," you admit, tracing idle circles on your kneeââFeels like if I donât...I lose you a little."Â
Eren stills. Then, finally, he turnsâhis green eyes meeting yours, really meeting them, as he sets the knife down. Â
âAlright," he rumbles, âPick, then.âÂ
You let out a slow sigh, chewing your bottom lip as you search for the right wordsâyour fingers twisting together in your lap.Â
âWeâve been in St. Lucia for a while now,â you start, âAfter everythingâthe chaos, the traveling, the proposal,â Your lips curl into a soft smile at the memoryâ"Iâm so happy here, âRen. Itâs everything I never knew I needed. But..."Â
Your throat tightensâbecause the unspoken thing hangs between you, heavy and undeniable. Â
ââŚI just need to know youâre happy too," you finally say, fingers pressing into your kneesââThat nothingâs...disappointed you. Â
Erenâs expression darkensânot in anger, but in fierce disagreement as he steps closer, crowding your space, his rough palms cupping your face. Â
âListen tâ me," he rumbles, âThereâs nothinâ more I could ask for. Youâthisâusâ" His thumb swipes at your mouth, âYouâre my fuckinâ world, woman.â
You press your forehead to his, closing your eyes as you exhale softlyânodding as you whisper, âOkay."Â
His hands grip your hips roughly, lifting you just enough to smack your assâthe sharp crack making your body jump as he growls, âLet's have some fun, yeah?"
A soft laugh bubbles up in your throat, but before you can respond, heâs already movingâgrabbing a glass, rummaging through the fridge. Â
âWant me to make you a drink?" he offers, half-turned toward you, already reaching for a bottle of rum. Â
You shake your head, âYou're an amazing cook, babyânot the best bartender. âM fine."Â
âOh?" His head snaps towards you, âSo now my drinks ainât good enough?"Â
He turns back towards the fridge grabbing fresh fruit, mint, and crushed ice. Â
âGonnaâ make you eat those words," he muttersâbut thereâs a smirk tugging at his lips.Â
You grab the camera, following him into the kitchen with quiet stepsâpropping it up at the perfect angle to capture this moment. The lens frames him perfectlyâhis broad shoulders, the way his muscles flex as he bends into the fridge, rummaging for ingredients. You press yourself against his back, molding your body into the warmth of his frame, breathing him in. Â
Eren chucklesâa low, rumbling soundâbefore reaching his arm back, large hand cradling your head gently. He tilts his face toward yours, capturing your lips in a slow, tender kiss. Â
"Love you too," he murmurs against your mouth before pulling away, returning to his missionâcitrus fruit in hand, determined to prove his bartending skills.  Â
âIâm really okay without a drink," you say softly. Â
Eren immediately shoots you a frown.Â
âWeâve been in St. Lucia for a month," he points out, voice dripping with faux sadnessââAnd you havenât drank with me in two whole weeks. Whatâs goinâ on, huh? I thought you loved me?âÂ
âPregnant women canât drink, baby."Â
Eren freezes.Â
His hands stillâmid-squeeze of a limeâjuice dripping forgotten onto the counter. Â
Slowly, he turnsâhis green eyes locking onto yours, darker than youâve ever seen them. Â
âBunny," he saysâjust thatâhis voice a growl, rough with shock. Â
You nodâshuddering out a nervous giggleâyour fingers twisting together. Â
ââŚYeah."Â
And thenâhis hands are on you, cupping your face, his thumbs brushing your cheeks as his forehead presses to yoursâhis breath uneven. Â
âFuck," he raspsâand for the first time in years, Eren Yeager sounds shaken.
âHow long?" he rasps, voice rough with emotion.
You bite your lip, exhaling shakily.Â
âRemember... when we first got here?â you murmur, brushing your thumbs over his wrists, âI cried because I wanted dragonfruitâand you scoured the whole island trying to find one?"Â
A slow realization flickers in his eyesâbecause you donât crave things like that. Not randomly. Not desperately.Â
ââŚI knew something was off then," you admit softly, âTook a test a few days later...and Iâ" Your voice cracks slightly, âI didnât believe it. âThought I was seeing things. So I waited. âTook another one. And another."Â
Erenâs jaw clenchesâhis breathing unevenâbut you can see it in his eyes, the way his mind races, piecing together every moment, every mood swing, every sign.
âIâm sorry," you whimper, pressing your forehead harder against his, âI was so scared it was a false positiveââdidnât want you to get your hopes up just for it to be nothing."Â
His grip shiftsâone hand sliding down to press against your stomach, his palm huge against you, like heâs already trying to feel whatâs growing there.Â
âWhen the doctors told me I was possibly infertileâŚit terrified meânot just because of what it meant for us, but because... I realized how much I wanted this. How much I wanted your baby."Â
A tear slips free, trailing down your cheek as you continue, words spilling out in a fragile rushâ Â
âBut Koreaâs so far from home, âRen. All our familyâs back in New Orleans, and Iâ" Your breath hitches, âI want my momma through this. I want her with me when Iâm scared, when I donât know whatâs happening to my body. I wanna be home. But I also donât wanna be away from youânot for a single second of this.âÂ
Your throat tightens, another wave of fear crashing over youâ Â
âAnd our supporters... our careers... Iâm scared of shutting ourselves away from the love weâve built. I just donât wanna feel aloneââ
âStop," he orders, voice raw with conviction, âStop worryinââright fuckinâ now. You hear me?"Â
His grip tightens, eyes burning into yoursâ Â
âIâd burn down whole goddamn countries for you. For this baby. You wanna go home? Weâre goinâ.You want your momma? Iâll carry her ass to Korea myself. You scared of beinâ alone? Not happeninâânot as long as Iâm breathinâ."Â
A shuddering little cry escapes youâbut Eren doesnât let you crumble. He crushes you to his chest, his heartbeat thundering against your ear as he raspsâ Â
âYouâre mine. This babyâs mine. Not distance, careers, not anythinâ will stop me from takinâ care of you.â
You mewl âI love you" against his lips in a tearful, trembling kissâhis mouth crashing into yours with a devotion so deep, it vibrates through your entire body. The heat of his hands cradling your faceâevery touch radiates pure, unfiltered love. Â
Pulling back slightly, you turn your watery gaze toward the camera, your damp lashes fluttering as Eren ducks his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling deeplyâlike heâs memorizing your scent, grounding himself in you. Â
âWeâre having a baby," you beam, voice thick with emotion, wiping your cheeks with the back of your hand. Â
Eren lifts his head, eyes locking onto the cameraâdetermined, possessiveâbefore he gruffly murmurs, âYâall been with us through everything. âNo way we go through this without you. Expect more contentâa lot more."Â
Your breath catchesââYou sure?" you whisper, searching his face. Â
He nods without hesitation, ââOnly want you happy, Bunny.âÂ
And thenâwithout warningâyou launch yourself into him, legs wrapping around his waist as you giggle, âWeâre having a babyyy!âÂ
Eren grunts as he catches you effortlessly, a playful growl rumbling in his chest as he clutches your body tightââLetâs go see if we can get you pregnant twice.âÂ
Your laughter echoes as he carries you down the hallwayâyour limbs tangled around himâand with one last breathless âBye!" from you, the screen flickers, dissolving into static as the camera shuts off in a nostalgic fade. Â
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where do you get inspo for most of your fics ? is it certain songs? movies?
it really just depends ! most of the time itâs random scenarios in my headâfantasies, desires, some things i might enjoy in my real life, some things that sound appealing only on paper, lol! mostly just my dreamy, pisces head.
đŕžŕ˝˛ warnings .á + word countâ 12.0K, original!wifeblackfemreader, husband!onyankopon, (in this au; both reader and onyankopon are 31!) dad!onyankopon, southerncoded!onyankopon, southerncoded!femreader, shy!femreader, giggly!femreader, aggressive!onyankopon, sweet!onyankopon, dominant!onyankopon, riding!, standing doggy style!, pet names, dirty talk, aggressive pet names, squirting, creaming, condomless sex, dick sucking, overstimulation, family drama, minors are not welcome! đŕžŕ˝˛
ăĄă˘ăâ in the honor of me turning 24 soon, how about some more mature, southern coded family drama? hope yâall enjoy, teehee.
THE CAJUN SPICE OF ANDOUILLE SAUSAGE WAFTS THE ENTIRE HOUSE LIKE A WARM HUG, YOUR HOPES OF IT TASTING AS GOOD AS IT SMELLED FILLING YOU WITH EXCITEMENT. This was your domainâthe kitchen, as feeding a growing boy and a constantly growing man became a second job for you. One you loved, of course.
The farmhouse kitchen hums with the sizzle of cayenne and thyme clinging to the air like a promise. Outside, the Louisiana sun presses heavy against the wrap around porch, where tangled bougainvillea bleeds pink against peeling white wood. Your bare feetâtoes painted a deep plumâpress into worn oak floors as you stir the pot, hips swaying slightly to the hum of Need U Bad by Jazmine Sullivan bumping from the Bluetooth speaker. Â
That Saints jersey of hisâswallowed up by broad shoulders on game days drapes past your thighs now, the fabric still faintly carrying his cologne, something smoky and sweet. Beneath it, the lace of your black thong digs just slightly into the swell of your hips, a reminder of the softness youâve grown intoâwomanly curves that he worships with his hands, his mouth, his everything.Â
Heat now rolls off the stove in waves, curling the baby hairs at your nape into tight spirals, your crinkled jet black lengths parted neatly down the middle, crimped and glossy where they spill over your shoulders. You catch your reflection in the oven doorâfreckles stark against flushed brown cheeks, lashes brushing them like feather tips, lips glossy from the Chapstick youâd swiped on absentmindedly. Â
And there it isâyour wedding band glints under the pendant light, a simple gold oval heâd slid onto your finger at the courthouse when you were both too young to care what anyone thought. Back then, staying home hadnât been the planâbut neither was the way he had gripped your waist in that ultrasound room, voice rough when he said, ââŚAinât no way Iâm lettinâ you stress âbout shit but this baby.âÂ
And here you are now, sixteen years later. Your men wonât storm in for hours yet. No cleats thudding on the porch from that teenager of yours, and no deep chuckle rumbling through the screen door as your husband shakes off work. Just the quiet, the spice in the air, and the thrum of your own pulseâcontent, for now, in this life youâve built.Â
The back of your thumb grazes over the smooth gold of your ring, twisting it absently as memories flash like fireflies behind your eyesâthose early days when Onyankopon was still more boy than man, all rough edges and sharper tongue.Â
Back then, he wore his New Orleans like armorâcornrows fresh, diamond studs glinting against deep brown skin, tattoos still fresh enough to look angry. That fleur-de-lis inked high on his cheekbone was a declaration, a fuck you to anyone who thought they could box him in. You remember the way his Timberlands kicked up gravel outside your mamaâs house, or how his voice dropped to honey thick "Shhh, girl", when he pulled you close behind the bleachers. Â
And now?
Lord. Thirty one looks sinful on him. The same fleur-de-lis, same tattoos sprawling over corded muscleâbut now they tell stories. The pelican inked over his heart for Louisiana loyalty, the NOLA âtil Iâm cold scripted down his ribs. His cornrows are neater these days, edges crisp where they taper into the nape of his neck, that low beard trimmed just right. Age settled into him like whiskey in oakâricher, deeper. The kind of man who walks into a room and the air changes.
Your sonâAsaudâcarries his name like a blessing. Sixteen and already built like his daddy, all long limbs and broad shoulders threatening to outgrow his jersey. Same sharp cheekbones, same slow, cocky grin when he knows heâs charmed an entire city. But where Onyâs edges stayed hard, Asaud softenedâ mamaâs almond eyes, even your freckles dusting his nose. Â
Those two? Tight as thieves. Asaud trailing Onyankopon like a shadow since he could walkââTeach me that throw, Pops. Let me hold the drill, I got it.âÂ
The way your husbandâs stern âAight, show me some shitâ,â could make Asaud stand taller than any trophy. Â
But latelyâŚÂ Â
Your finger stills on the ring.Â
The creak of Asaudâs bedroom doorâalways shut nowâgrates against your nerves like a splinter you canât dig out. Two weeks straight of it. No more sprawled across the couch with his cleats kicked up, no more leaning over your shoulder while you cooked just to steal a taste. Just that door locked tight as a vault, the muffled bass of his music throbbing through the wood like a pulse you werenât invited to hear. Â
He used to be yoursâyour baby, even when he hit six feet tall. The boy whoâd press his forehead to yours after bad games and whisper, âIâm sorry, Momma,â like your disappointment cut deeper than any coachâs scream.Â
Now? His âCool,â lands like a slap when you ask about practice. His backpack stays slumped by the door, untouched since yesterday. Homework? Done. Dinner? Not hungry.Â
And sleepâLord, the sleeping. You catch him slumped over his desk sometimes when you dare to knock, cheek smushed against his physics textbook, lashes fluttering like heâs fighting to stay awake even in dreams. Other days he doesnât stir âtil noon, blankets twisted around his waist, phone clutched in his palm like it holds answers. Â
Onyankopon misses it. Not because he doesnât careâhell no. That man breathes for his son. But between welding shifts at the shipyardâarms streaked with soot, muscles aching from hauling steelâhe comes home too exhausted to see past Asaudâs âIâm straight, Pops.âÂ
And you? Youâre softer. Always have been. The one who smooths his edges when Onyâs tough love ainât the fix. But latelyâŚÂ Â
When your hand hovers over Asaudâs door? The wood feels colder than it should.
Your phone buzzes against the countertop, pulling you from your thoughts. The screen lights up with a text from Papaâyour husband's contact name forever unchanged since the day he programmed it himself.Â
Shipyard lettinâ us slide early. Gonâ grab some crawfish, swing by Nanaâs for yâall. You want extra butter?Â
A slow smile curls your lips. Youâre halfway through typing your responseâbut thatâs when the screen flashes again. Not another text. Â
An incoming call. Â
Principal GuidryâBonnabel High.Â
ââŚHello?âÂ
âHey, baby.â
Principal Guidryâs voice is honey thick Creole, the same one that used to holler at yâall for cutting class back in tenth grade. Now itâs laced with something heavy.Â
âIâm real sorry to call like thisââ
Your grip tightens.Â
âCherise, whatâs wrong? Is Asaudââ
âHeâs fine.â
She hesitates before correcting, âPhysically, leastways. ButâŚâÂ
A pause. The shuffle of papers.Â
âMy office chair ainât never felt this heavy. Got yoâ boy sittinâ right here lookinâ like he wanna disappear into the floor. Suspended. Three days.âÂ
Suspended? The word doesnât even sound right in the air. Â
âBlack eye and all,â she adds softly. Â
Your breath catches. Asaud? Your gentle giant? Fighting?Â
âWhat happened?âÂ
Cherise exhales hard, âLet him tell it. âNeed you to come get him.âÂ
The kitchen suddenly feels too hot.Â
"Iâm on my way."Â
The tires of your truck screech against cracked asphalt as you fishtail into the Bonnabel High parking lot, heart hammering against your ribs. You should text Onyankoponâshouldâbut even thinking about it makes your stomach twist. The man would burn down the entire Eastbank if he heard his son was hurt, the welding torch still in hand, fury hotter than molten steel. No, better to handle this first. Â
The school looms ahead, its faded maroon bricks and rusted Saints banners looking harsher under the afternoon sun. Thenâmovement. The double doors swing open, and thereâs Asaud, flanked by two security guards, his broad frame hunched like heâs trying to fold into himself. Â
You donât even cut the engine before youâre out the car, bare feet slapping against hot concrete. Â
âMon bĂŠbĂŠâoh my God, look at your face!âÂ
Your hands flutter over his swollen eye, fingers trembling as you trace the bruise purpling his caramel skin. Itâs deep, angryâsomeone hit him hard. The Creole spills out of you unfiltered, a storm of âQui t'a fait ça?!â and âLet me see, cherââÂ
Asaud exhales sharply, catching your wrists with a gentleness that belies his size. Â
âChill, Momma. Iâm fine.âÂ
One of the guardsâa thick necked man with a walkie crackling at his hipâclears his throat.Â
âMaâam, âyou gotta clear the lot.âÂ
The dismissal in his tone snaps something in you.Â
âClear theâdo you see my childâs face? Who did this? WhoââÂ
âMomma.âÂ
Asaudâs grip firms, steering you back toward the car with a nudge. The kids pressed against the cafeteria windows donât make it any better. He just climbs into the passenger seat without another word, jaw set. Â
And so, you follow.
The air inside the truck is thick with unspoken words, the only sound is the hum of the engine and the occasional rustle of Asaud shifting in his seat. His profile is sharp against the afternoon light streaming through the windowâjaw clenched, lashes loweredâa portrait of quiet defiance. Â
ââŚAre you alright?âÂ
âYeah.â
One word, clipped. Â
âDoes Coach know what happened?â
âNot yet.âÂ
That stings. Asaud loves footballâloves his team, loves the way his daddyâs face lights up when he makes a play. If heâs keeping this from Coach? Something serious mustâve happened.
âTi-Loup⌠are you really okay?â
Little wolfâthe childhood nickname slips out before you can stop it, tender as a bruise. Â
His broad shoulders slump as he leans his temple against the glass. Â
ââŚHead hurts.âÂ
âBaby, if you hit your head, you canât sleepââÂ
Your hand lifts instinctively, reaching to brush his temple, check for feverâbut he tilts away before you can make contact. Your fingers hover in the air for a heartbeat before dropping back to the wheel.Â
The moment the truck rolls to a stop in the driveway, Asaud is already movingâdoor swinging open before you even cut the engine, his long legs carrying him toward the house in quick strides. You barely have time to gather your purse before heâs halfway up the porch steps. Â
âWaitâ"Â
Your scramble after him, bare feet slapping against warm wood. Â
âTi-LoupâAsaud!âÂ
He slows down by a millisecond.Â
âI still need to know what happenedââ
âAinât nothinâ.â
âNothing?âÂ
You frown, âLook at your damn face!"Â
You catch his wrist, forcing him to turnâonly for him to yank free with a force that makes you stumble.Â
âWhy are you being like this? You donâtâyou never avoid me.â
This time when he turns, his eyes arenât just tired. Theyâre cold. Â
âDamn, canât I just breathe without yâall up my ass?âÂ
The words hit like a slap. Â
For a second you just stand there, the sting of them settling deep beneath your skin. Your chest tightensâbut you wonât cry. Not here.Â
âFine.âÂ
The word comes out quieter than you meant. Â
âYou can wait âtil your father gets home to talk about it.â
His whole posture shiftsâshoulders stiffening, eyes wideningâlike the mere mention of that man flipped a switch. Â
âMommaââÂ
But youâre already walking away.
The tension in the house is thick enough to slice with a butter knifeâthe kind of quiet that presses against your eardrums, heavy and oppressive. Asaud's bedroom door hasn't budged since you got home, not even when you knocked softly with a plate of food an hour ago. The plate is still sitting untouched outside his door, grits congealing into sad little lumps. Â
This is how it always goes when Asaud knows Onyankopon is coming home to discipline himâradio silence, tense shoulders, the boy steeling himself like a soldier bracing for battle. Normally you'd bridge the gap, smooth things over with a joke or a hug. But today? The sting of his dismissal lingers like a bruise, and you can't bring yourself to force it. Â
Thenâkeys.Â
The front door swings open, and there he is. Â
Dressed in a navy blue shipyard uniform, his sleeves are rolled up to reveal thick forearms corded with veins, tattoos a roadmap of ink against deep brown skin. A faded Saints cap sits low over his cornrows, shadows accentuating the sharp angles of his faceâthat strong jaw, all the way down to the facial hair coating his chin. The scent of saltwater and engine grease clings to him, mixing with the spicy aroma of the crawfish takeout in his hand.Â
ââWhere my baby at?"Â
His gaze locks onto youâyour bare legs peeking out from under his jersey, your hair still crimped and wild from the kitchen heatâand his glare is all sin.Â
âGoddamn,â he gruntsââYou been walkinâ âround lookinâ like that while Iâm gone? Gonâ make me come over there.âÂ
You huff a weak laugh despite the weight in your chest, watching him flex his fingers like theyâre stiff from gripping a welding torch all day.
âHi, Papa.âÂ
He grunts againâthis one softerâas he stomps toward the kitchen, setting the takeout bag on the counter before peeling off his grease streaked work jacket. The muscles in his back ripple beneath his white tank as he tosses it over a chair, his voice rough but easy as he starts rambling. Â
âShit was a goddamn warzone todayââforeman got on my nerves âbout some pipe measurements, then âthem Lafitte boys tried to cut in line at Nanaâs.âÂ
He pops the lid off the crawfish, steam billowing up as he scowlsââLike I ainât gonâ notice they trynaâ snake my order.âÂ
You lean against the counter, watching him. Normally youâd interjectâtease him about being territorial over seasoned crustaceansâbut your mind is still tangled up in the quiet rage of your sonâs dismissal. Â
Onyankopon glances up, finally catching your silence. His dark brows furrow. Â
âWhatâs wrong witâ you?âÂ
You pick at the hem of the jersey. Â
ââHad⌠a day.âÂ
He murmurs, âIâm knowinâ, Mama. A nigga glad to be home. âBeen thinkinâ boutâ a shower, rubbinâ on yoâ feetâWhere âSaud at? Lilâ nigga better be hungry âcause I got extra sausage just for hiââÂ
âHeâs suspended.âÂ
The moment the words leave your lips, Onyankopon goes stillâunnaturally still. Like every muscle in his body locks down at once. The air in the kitchen shifts, thickens. You can practically see the switch flip behind his eyesâthe shift from husband to father, from easy laughter to cold calculation. Â
âFuck you mean suspended?â  Â
You exhale, folding your arms across your chest, suddenly aware of how small you feel beneath his gaze. Â
ââŚI don't know, Ony. He wouldn't tell me."
His nostrils flareâonce, twiceâbefore his dark eyes scan your face, picking up the tension in your brow, the way your fingers clutch the jersey fabric too tight. Â
â"Y'all got into it?"Â
âHe didn't want to talk to me."Â
A muscle in his temple jumps. Â
âHe ain't got no choice but to talk to you."
His voice is low, finalââAin't no option."Â
For a moment, silence stretches between youâthick and loadedâbefore his calloused fingers hook gently under your chin, tilting your face up to his. His thumb brushes your bottom lip, gruff but tender. Â
âGimmeâ yoâ mouth first."Â
You exhale shakily, leaning in. His lips are warm, firm against yoursâbrief but groundingâbefore he pulls back just enough to press his forehead to yours. His breath is hot against your skin, smelling faintly of peppermint and the crawfish he'd been handling. Â
And thenâ Â
"ASAUD!"Â
His roar shakes the damn house. No hesitation, no preamble.Â
âGet yoâ ass out here.âÂ
You flinch, knowing how quickly Asaud heard him. Even through walls. Even through attitude. Â
Silence. Â
Thenâfootsteps. Slow. Reluctant.Â
Asaud appears in the doorway, broad shoulders slumped just slightly, hands shoved deep in his hoodie pockets. His eyes flicker upâjust onceâto meet his father's gaze before lowering again, careful not to show outright defiance but unable to hold the intensity of that stare for long. Â
Onyankopon doesn't speak at first. Just looks at him, eyes raking over the swollen skin, the purple black bruise blooming beneath his sonâs eye. Thenâmovement.Â
His hand shoots out, calloused fingers gripping Asaudâs chin with a firmness that isnât rough but leaves no room for resistance. He tilts his face toward the light, inspecting the damage with the clinical precision of a man whoâs seenâand dealtâhis share of blows. Â
ââYou alright?"
Asaudâs throat bobs. Â
âYes, sir."Â
Onyankoponâs grip doesnât loosen. Â
âThen why ain't you tell yoâ momma what happened?"Â
Asaudâs jaw flexes beneath his fatherâs hold, his voice barely above a murmur. Â
â...Didnât wanna talk about it, sir.âÂ
âWhatâd you say to her?"Â
âI ainât say nothinâ."Â
âTch."Â
A sharp click of his tongue. Â
âTĂŞte levĂŠe quand tu m'parles."Â
Head up when you talk to me.Â
The Creole rolls off his tongue sharply, and Asaudâs chin lifts almost immediatelyâeyes snapping to meet his father. The apology spills out before he can stop itâ Â
âDĂŠsolĂŠ, Popsâ"
âWhatchuâ apologizinâ for if you ainât say nothinâ?"Â Â
The silence in the kitchen turns electric, thick enough to choke on. Onyankoponâs grip loosens just enough to turn Asaudâs face toward youânot rough, but insistent.Â
ââWhat he say to you?"Â
âHe saidâ" Your voice wavers, but you force it steady. â'Damn, can I breathe without yâall being up my ass?'"Â Â
Onyankopon looks back to Asaud.Â
âSo we âup yoâ assâ now?"Â Â
He steps into his son's space, forcing his head up again with a rough tap of two fingers beneath his chin. Â
"âYou think you grown enough to talk to yoâ momma like that?â
Asaudâs lips partâbut no sound comes out. Â
âI asked you a question."Â
âNo, sir," Asaud mutters, jaw tight. Â
âNah, seeâyou acted like it."
 Onyankoponâs voice sharpens, cutting like a bladeââYou got one mother. One. The woman who carried yoâ big headed ass for nine months, who still make yoâ plate first even when yoâ dumbass beinâ ungrateful. And âthis how you talkinâ to her?"Â
The words land like bricks. Â
"Look at her."Â
Asaudâs eyes flicker to you once, then darting away again. Â
âSoft as fuck witâ you," Onyankopon continuesââAlways been. âYou sick? She up all night. âYou hungry? She cookinâ before you even ask. You ainât just disrespectinâ yo mommaâyou disrespectingâ my wife.âÂ
Asaud swallows hard, his shoulders tightening like heâs bracing for impact. Onyankopon doesnât let up though, drilling into him with a stare that could crack concrete. Â
âApologize."Â
âIâm sorry, Momma."Â
Your chest tightens.Â
âIâm not upset, baby," you murmur, âIt just hurt my feelingsâI wanna know whatâs going on, okay? Thatâs all.âÂ
Finally, Asaud exhales, defeated. Â
"...I fought Jamal."Â
That catches both of you off guard. Jamal? His wide receiverâhis best friend?Â
Onyankoponâs brows shoot up, "The hell for?âÂ
â...Cheer team girl."Â
The silence that follows Asaud's confession is deafening.Â
âSo you gonâ fuck up yoâ throwinâ handâlose yoâ scholarshipâover some girl?âÂ
The words come out low, measured, but they hit like a sledgehammer. You step forward, hands lifting slightlyâ Â
âHey, letâs justâ"Â
âWho the girl?"Â
Asaud shifts uncomfortably, shoulders rolling back like heâs preparing for war. Â
"Sabine."Â
âShe âbad like yoâ momma?"Â
âOnyankopon!âÂ
He doesnât even glance your way, his glare still locked onto Asaud. Â
âWhy you callinâ my name?" âHis voice drops dangerouslyââThat gottaâ be the reason. Otherwise, IÂ need yoâ son to explain why he fuckinâ up all his opportunities over some bullshit."
âIt ainât bullshit!" Asaudâs voice booms, raw and defensiveââSheâs different.âÂ
Onyankopon doesnât laughâdoesnât even smirk. His expression stays stone-cold as he steps forward, closing the gap between them with a single stride. Â
âThatâs what you thinkinâ right now,â he growls, âBut I promiseâshe ainât. You thinkinâ bout some pussy, and that ainât gonâ get you in the NFL or keep yoâ wide receiver."Â
He jabs a thick finger against Asaudâs chestâhard.Â
âYoâ head loose, and I ainât raisinâ no kids outside of you."Â
Asaudâs chest heaves, his nostrils flaring as his temper flares hotter. Thenâ Â
âYou were younger than me when you knocked Momma up.âÂ
The moment those words leave Asaudâs mouthâsharp, deliberate, meant to cutâyour stomach drops. Your lips part in quiet disbelief, brows knitting together as hurt flashes hot behind your ribs. Â
âAsaud!"Â
But Onyankopon is already movingâfast, too fastâhis massive hand snatching the front of Asaudâs hoodie, yanking him forward until their faces are inches apart. Asaudâs breath comes ragged, shoulders rising and falling under the strain of his fatherâs grip, but he doesnât fight it. Â
"You right."Â
A pauseâsharp, loaded. Â
âHere I am sixteen years laterâstill bustinâ my ass for you the moment I âknockedâ yoâ momma up."
His fingers tighten in the fabric, knuckles whiteningâ" I donât ever regret havinâ you, and if I can prevent you from goinâ through the same shit me and yoâ momma handled? Thatâs what Immaâ do."Â
Asaud swallows hard, his throat bobbing. Â
"Ionâ give a fuck âbout no lilâ ass girl," Onyankopon rasps, âOr yoâ feelings just âcause you on some puppy love shit. Football. School. Thatâs yoâ priorities."Â
Your fingers curl into Onyankoponâs sleeve, tugging gentlyââBaby⌠let him go."Â
Asaudâs voice cracks as he mutters, âPopsâ"Â
"Popâs nothinâ."Â
Onyankopon shoves him backânot hard enough to hurt, but firm enough to make his point. He spits something in Creoleâlow, gutturalâbefore jerking his chin toward the kitchen. Â
âGo eat the food yoâ momma cooked."Â
The moment Onyankopon issued that command, Asaud's shoulders slumpedâdefeated but still simmering with that same stubborn fire his father carried in his bones. His jaw clenched tight, eyes flashing with frustration before he turned on his heel, storming down the hallway. The slam of his bedroom door echoed through the house like a gunshot, rattling the frames on the walls. Â
Onyankopon didnât even flinch. Â
âDonât be slamminâ no doors in this bitch you canât pay to fix.âÂ
And all you could do was sigh, pressing your fingertips to your forehead as the weight of the afternoon settled over you like a heavy blanket. Â
Hours later, the house was eerily quiet, the kind of stillness that only comes when two prideful men refuse to be the first to break. Nightfall crept in, painting the walls in long shadows as you moved through the dimly lit kitchen, plating a heaping serving of shrimp and gritsâstill warm, just the way he liked it. Â
But Onyankopon was nowhere to be found. Â
Not in the living room, not in the bedroomâso you already knew where he was. Â
Stepping onto the porch, the humid Louisiana air wrapped around you like a second skin. The cicadas sang their nightly chorus, the scent of magnolias thick in the breeze. And there he wasâshirtless, his sweatpants hanging low on his hips as his massive frame crouched near the steps. Â
The metal bowl in his hands rattled impatiently as he shook it, muttering under his breath. Â
ââWhat you doinâ, Papa?âÂ
He didnât even glance up, his deep voice gruff with irritation. Â
ââŚTrynaâ feed this damn cat âSaud be so worried about.âÂ
A soft mrrow sounded from the bushes, and a scruffy orange tabby slinked out, eyeing Onyankopon warily before darting forward to swipe at the bowl. Â
Of course he was out hereâstill pissed, still stubbornâbut making sure his sonâs stray was fed. Â
Some things never changed.
The stray catâscruffy, wide-eyed, and perpetually suspiciousâpadded cautiously along the porch railing, its tail flicking with a mix of curiosity and defiance. It sniffed the air, nostrils twitching as it scented Onyankopon instead of Asaudâs familiar presence. With a deliberate hmph, it turned its head away from the bowl, pretending disinterest even as its stomach growled loud enough for you both to hear. Â
You couldnât help the giggle that slipped past your lips. Â
"Youâre mean to him tooâthatâs why he wonât eat."Â
Onyankopon scowled, shaking the bowl harder, the dry kibble rattling like a warning. Â
âYeah? I take care of his ungrateful ass too."Â
You sighed dramatically, leaning against the doorframe as you murmuredââThe Tin Man does have a heart, it seems."
Onyankopon shot you a look before gruffly calling out, "Aight, Tigerâcome get this damn food."
âHis name is Tango.âÂ
âSame shit."Â Â
Finally the cat hopped down, sauntering over with an air of reluctant grace. It rubbed its entire body along Onyankoponâs bare calf, purring loud enough to vibrate the porch boards beneath him. Â
âYeah, yeah," he grumbled, nudging the bowl closer with his footââGonâ head."Â
You stepped forward then, bringing the plate of shrimp and grits closer, the rich aroma mixing with the warm night air. Â
âYou need to eat too, baby.âÂ
Onyankoponâs fingers then curl gently around your throatânot tight, but there, possessive and grounding. He dropped a series of rough, smacking kisses against your lips, each one firm and fleeting before he finally took the plate with his free hand. Â
âAight," he muttered, settling onto the wooden stairs. Â
The cat ate. Your husband ate. Now, you could have the real conversation youâd been holding off on.
You settle onto the wooden steps behind him, the worn planks creaking softly under your weight as you wrap your legs around his waist, molding your body against the warm expanse of his back. Heâs hot to the touchâalways running like a furnaceâand you bury your face between his shoulder blades, inhaling the faint lingering scent of his cologne as he eats.Â
"Did you check on your son?"Â
The fork scrapes against the plate as he chews, his shoulders lifting in a half-shrug.
âNah. But I know you did."Â
A gruff pause, ââHe still alive? Limbs all attached?"
You hum, fingers trailing lazily through the neat rows of his cornrows, tracing the patterns like youâve done a thousand times before.
 âFunny. Heâs asleep.âÂ
Silence stretches between you, thick with unsaid things. Then, softlyâ Â
âYou do know you were wrong, right?"Â
âWhich part? âCause I ainât wrong about a lot of shit."Â Â
You exhale through your nose, leaning into his shoulder as you murmur, âTi tèt di."
 Stubborn man.
He doesnât respond, just keeps eatingâhis jaw working methodically, the muscles in his back flexing beneath your touch. You press a kiss to the nape of his neck before continuingâ Â
âRemember when we found out I was pregnant? How scared you were?"
Silence. Â
You then whisper, âHeâs got an amazing head on his shoulders, Papa. Just like you. Maybe...heâs serious about this girl."Â
âHeâs sixteen.âÂ
âAnd we were fifteenâsneakinâ into my mommaâs house when she went to sleep, havinâ unprotected sex, and then what happened?âÂ
He leans back into you with a rough huff, his head tilting just enough to bump against yours.
âYou tryna be funny.âÂ
âIâm not."
 Your fingers trail down to his jaw, tracing the line of his beard as you sayââOur parents kicked us out, and weâve been on our own since then."
The silence between you grows heavier, thick with the weight of memories neither of you ever really talk aboutânights spent sleeping in his beat up Chevy, the way his voice had cracked when his own father slammed the door in his face, the quiet tears you'd wiped away when your mama called you a disgrace. Â
You press a kiss to his shoulder, soft as a prayer.Â
"But we knew our little wolf was special, didnât we?â Â
A beat.Â
âYeah."Â
You smile against his skin, âAsaud is yours, but heâs not you. Heâs not gonna make the mistakes we didâand shuttinâ him down like our parents did to us? Itâd be unfair.â Â
Onyankopon exhalesâlong, slowâhis head tipping back against your shoulder.
Your voice is barely above a whisper, soft yet carrying the weight of years as you murmur, "Give him the grace we never got."Â
Your husband goes quiet. The cicadas hum in the thick night air, the stray cat now curled on the porch railing, licking its paws as if amused by the whole scene. Â
Thenâ Â
ââGuess I ain't have to yank his ass up like that."Â
The admission comes out gruff, and you can't help the faint smile that tugs at your lips. With a playful flick to the side of his head, you tease, "Donât be puttinâ hands on my baby no more."Â
Before you can blink, his massive arm hooks behind you, tugging you effortlessly onto his lap. You let out a surprised squeak of laughter, instantly melting into the familiar warmth of his holdâhis thick thighs beneath you, the hard plane of his chest pressed flush against your back. His heat engulfs you, his scent wrapping around your senses like a second skin. Â
You nuzzle into the crook of his neck, fingers tracing the shell of his ear as you murmur, "But hey⌠we didnât do so bad, did we?"Â
His arms tighten around your waist, lips brushing your templeâ"Nah. We did better.â Â
You giggle as he kisses you, slow at first, then deeper, hotterâyour tongue stroking his with a suddenly filthy, practiced familiarity. You pull back just enough to whisper against his lips, ââWore your jersey just for youâŚ"Â
His hand cups your jaw, thumb brushing your cheekbone as he groans, half-amused, half-exasperated.Â
âYou know Iâll never say noâbut a nigga tired as hell."Â
You gasp in mock offense, pulling back to squint at him.
 âOh, so you can yoke up my childâ but no dick for me?"Â
That deep, rich chuckle vibrates against your ribs as he leans back against the porch railing, pulling you tighter against him.
âDaddy ainât Superman. One city at a time."
You blow out an exaggerated huff, lips pursed in playful frustration as you mutter, âYou're annoying."Â
âAnd you horny."Â
You cross your arms over your chest but sink deeper into his embrace anyway, the steady thump of his heartbeat against your back. After a beat, you nudge him with your elbow, voice softening.
 â...You love me?"Â
For a moment he says nothingâjust holds you there in the quiet, southern night humming around you both.Â
Then, sweet as molassesââWhen don't I?"Â
And yeah. That was your answer. Â
The next morning, Asaud wakes up earlyâhis body already braced for a day of grueling chores and another lecture still hanging heavy in the air. He tiptoes down the hallway, bare feet quiet against the hardwood, expecting silence. Instead? The rich, savory scent of butter, garlic, and smoked sausage hits him the moment he steps near the kitchen. Â
He pauses. Frowns. Â
Spread across the countertop is a full Louisiana-style breakfastâcrispy-edged fried eggs, golden-brown grits swimming in cheese, spicy Cajun hash, and fluffy buttermilk biscuits still steaming from the oven. His favorite.Â
Confusion knits his brows as he steps further inside, only to freeze at the sight of you and Onyankopon standing near the stove. Â
Onyankopon's massive frame is leaned into yours, his head tilted slightly as your fingers glide through his cornrows, re-braiding the edges with careful precision. You're both talkingâvoices low, words unintelligible from where he standsâbut the ease between you is undeniable. Â
Then you glance up, spotting him lingering in the doorway.
 "Morninâ, baby," you greet, smilingââHowâd you sleep?"Â
Asaud shifts awkwardly, eyes flicking between the food and his father's impassive face.Â
â...Good," he muttersââWhat's all this?"
âYoâ momma insisted on makinâ yoâ favorite breakfast," Onyankopon grumbles, voice rough with morning fatigue. Â
You flick his ear.Â
He then huffs, âAight, I told her to."Â
Youâre then crossing the kitchen toward Asaud, your bare feet padding softly against the tile. His eyes flicker with wariness, still bruised from yesterdayâs heated exchangeâthough the mark looks lighter now, less angry. You reach up, fingers ghosting over the spot as you murmur, âWant momma to ice it for you?"Â Â
Asaud ducks his head slightly, but shakes itââNo maâam, Iâm aight."Â
You smile, nudging him toward the table where his plate waits.Â
âEat âfore it gets cold."Â
Hesitant, he sinks into his chair, poking at the food before glancing between you both suspiciously.Â
ââŚYâall poisoned my food or sumâ?"Â
"Ainât I tell you he was finnaâ think that?"
âHush, Ony.â
Your voice softens then as you turn back to Asaud.Â
âWe had aâŚrevelation last night... and we just want you to knowâwe love you. All of you. Every stubborn, hardheaded, beautiful part."Â
The kitchen falls silentâsave for the sizzle of grease in the skillet, the hum of the ceiling fan. Â
You take a deep breath, clasping your hands together excitedly. The morning sunlight spills across the kitchen table as you announce, âMe and Daddy have been feeling a little disconnected from you lately, so we came up with an ideaâFamily Date! Yes Edition.âÂ
Asaud blinks, fork hovering mid air over his grits.
ââŚYes Edition?â
You beam, âWhatever you want to do todayâno matter whatâwe have to say yes to!"Â
Asaud's frown deepens, but there's a flicker of something mischievous in his gaze now.Â
âWhatever I want?"
You nod enthusiastically. On the other hand, Onyankopon rubs his temple as he mutters, âMy damn wallet achinâ already."Â
âThe sky is the limit, baby. Whatâd you wanna do?"Â
For a long moment, Asaud chews thoughtfully, brow furrowed as he considers his options. Then? It hits him all at once.Â
âAight, bet.âÂ
He sits up straighter as he lists off, âFirstâwe hittinâ up Bayou Guns for some target practice. Then, monster truck rally ticketsâfront row. After that, âwhole rack of ribs from Big Mikeâs Smokehouse, extra spicy. And,ââhe pauses dramatically, eyes flicking to his fatherââPops, you gotta let me drive the truck today."Â
Onyankopon almost chokes on his coffee.Â
âHell nah Iâm not!"Â
You level the look at Onyankoponâthe one that makes his jaw twitch because he knows heâs already lost. His dark eyes flick from you to Asaudâs hopeful expression before he exhales sharply through his nose, resigned. Â
âItâs yoâ day, Papa. Gonâ head."Â
Asaudâs grin is immediate, lighting up his entire face like a kid on Christmas morning.
 This was gonna be an adventure.Â
The day starts with everyone scrambling to get readyâyou werenât exactly thrilled about spending hours immersed in testosterone fueled chaos, but the thought of just being with your boys? Had you smiling despite yourself. Â
Onyankopon emerges looking stupidly fineâhis black long sleeve clinging to every defined ridge of muscle, the ink snaking down his arms and neck peeking out from beneath the fabric. Camo pants hang low on his hips, black Dunks laced tight on his feet, and those damn chains glinting against his chest like he stepped straight out of some high end streetwear ad. His faceâGodâthose sharp tattoos along his cheekbones contrasting his deep brown skin, that signature donât fuck with me glare permanently etched into his expression. Â
You keep poking at it as you all get ready, making him swat your hand away with a grunt. Â
Asaud mirrors his energy effortlesslyâhoodie layered over his own fitted tee, shoes swapped for something sleeker, but the same vibe radiating off him. Like father, like son. Â
You press kisses to both their cheeks before stepping back, smoothing down the backless top and capris hugging your curvesâclassy enough to turn heads, erotic enough to have Onyankoponâs fingers twitching. His dark gaze drops to your chest where your nipples press visibly against the fabric. Â
ââYou cold?â he rumbles, dragging a single fingertip over one peaked bud. Â
You pout, swatting his hand awayââItâs just chilly!"Â
Now, here was the card ride. Pure chaos as youâd imaginedâOnyankopon gripping the passenger side handle like he was seconds from yanking the wheel himself every time Asaud hit the gas too hard or took a turn a little too sharp.
âNigga, I swearâif you donât slow down, Immaâ have you pull over right here and make you ride in the back like the toddler you actinâ like."Â
Asaud just smirked, glancing at you in the rearview before purposefully tapping the accelerator againâjust to watch his fatherâs eye twitch. Â
The gun range parking lot was packed, buzzing with the low hum of engines and the occasional pop of gunfire in the distance. Stepping out of the truck, you immediately felt that familiar dread creep inânot from the firearms, but from the eyes. The looks. The inevitable moment when someone would glance between you, Onyankopon, and Asaud, their brows furrowing as they tried to piece together your dynamic. Â
Were you his older siblings? Friends? Â
Thenâthe shock when they realizedâOh. You were his mother.Â
Being a parent had never forced you to dress older than you were, never dulled your vibrancy to fit some matronly mold. Even now, trailing behind Onyankopon and Asaudâboth towering over you, broad shouldered and imposingâyou looked every bit the effortlessly sensual, youthful woman you were. Your deep merlot Coach purse swung at your hip, charms jingling with each step, your jet black curls bouncing against your back. Meanwhile, Onyankopon moved like he owned the ground beneath him, all quiet power and simmering dominanceâa kingpin with his diamond in tow.Â
The inside smelled like gunpowder, leather, and faintly of the fried catfish wafting from the snack bar in the corner. The air was thick with humidity, clinging to your skin as soon as you stepped insideâsharp cracks of gunfire echoed off the concrete walls, making your shoulders tense involuntarily. Each shot sounded like a miniature explosionâtoo loud, too suddenâand you instinctively pressed closer to Onyankopon's side, fingers tightening around his hand as if anchoring yourself to him.
The man behind the register gruffly asked, âWhatâchu wanna shoot with today?âÂ
Asaudâs eyes flickered toward the glass case displaying an array of firearmsâsome sleek and modern, others heavy and intimidating. His gaze lingered on the biggest oneâa monstrous, black tactical shotgun that looked like it could knock a grown man flat on his back. Â
Onyankopon didnât even blink, âThat one."
Asaud's eyes widened, âForrealâ?"
âYoâ day, right?"
You retreated to the far back of the room, perched on a worn leather bench like a reluctant cheerleader. Your knees pressed together, hands folded in your lap as you watched them gear upâear protection, gloves, safety glasses. Â
Onyankopon looked illegalâhis black sleeves rolled up to reveal thick, tattooed forearms as he handled the firearm with the kind of casual expertise that made your stomach flip. The range owner walked him through the basicsânot that he needed itâbut Onyankopon nodded along anyway, his deep voice rumbling something low in response. Â
The sight before you had your lips parting slightlyâOnyankopon lifting that heavy shotgun like it weighed nothing, his massive frame balanced with effortless precision. The first BOOM of his test shot rattled through the private room, the recoil absorbed effortlessly by his broad shoulders. Smoke curled from the barrel as he exhaled, lowering the gun and turning to Asaud with that same unreadable expressionâexcept you knew him, knew the subtle pride in the tilt of his chin, the patience in his stance as he prepared to teach his son the way his own father had taught him. Â
âRegarde,â he murmured, shifting fluidly between English and Creole as he adjusted Asaudâs grip.Â
âFirme, yeah? Shoulder tightânon, like this.âÂ
His large hands guided Asaud's calloused fingers, pressing the younger manâs palm flush against the stock.
And just like thatâAsaud shifted. His spine straightened, shoulders squaring under his fatherâs approval. The next shot he took wasnât perfectâbut it was strong, the kickback barely rocking him as the target downrange splintered at the edge. Â
âDecent,â Onyankopon conceded, âFor yoâ first try.âÂ
Your hands shot up in excited applause, curls tumbling over your freckled cheeks as you cheered, âYay!ââyou then blew a stubborn strand out of your face with a playful huff, watching as Asaud wandered over to stand beside you, wiping his palms on his hoodie. Â
"Gonâ head, Pops," he called out, nodding toward the range. Â
Onyankopon stepped up, and suddenly, the gun in his hands wasnât just a weapon. It was an extension of him. Each shot boomed like thunder, paper targets shredding into confetti under his relentless precision. He moved like liquidâfluid, deadlyâtwisting the gun with an assassinâs grace, reloading without breaking rhythm. The sheer power radiating off him had your pulse thrumming in your throat. Â
Asaud whistled low under his breath. Â
âAight, Sergeant! âWhere you learn that from?"Â
âHe wanted to be one, actually.âÂ
Asaud turned to you, brow arched.Â
"Pops wanted to be in the army?â  Â
Your gaze lingered on your husband, watching the way his shoulders flexed as he fired off another perfect shotâthe way his focus never wavered, even now. Â
"Higher up in the Navy, actually," you murmured. ââWanted to follow in his fatherâs path⌠before I got pregnant with you."Â
A beat of silence. Thenâ Â
âWhat happened?"Â
Your fingers toyed with the charms on your purse, but your eyes stayed on Onyankopon. You exhale, âHe disowned him. Hasnât spoken to his father since I was in my first trimester."Â
The words hung heavy between you. Â
âHe wouldâve found a way to go overseas," you continued softlyâ"But he didnât want to leave me. Or you. âWanted to watch you grow up."Â
Asaudâs voice was quieter now, âSoâŚhe never went for what he really wanted?âÂ
You turned to him then, smilingâreally smilingâdespite the ache in your chest. Â
âYou became our first priority the moment I held you in my arms, baby.â
Your voice dipped into honeyed warmth, "And you cried, cried, cried.âÂ
A dreamy little smile tugged at your lips, the memory of tiny fists gripping your finger, Onyankopon's unreadable mask cracking just once as he pressed his lips to your sweaty forehead in that delivery room. Â
You blinked back to the present, tilting your head toward Asaud.Â
âYour father can beâŚdifficult," you admitted, âBut know thisâhe loves you more than anything in this world. Everything he does, every hard lesson...it's because he wants everything for you."Â
Asaud scuffed his shoe against the concrete floor, "I know that, Momma.âÂ
Just then, Onyankopon's shadow fell over you both, smelling like gunpowder and that stupidly expensive cologne he only wore on special occasions.Â
âYâall talkinâ âbout me?" he rumbled, slinging an arm around your shoulders. Â
You batted your lashes up at him innocentlyââJust tellinâ our son where he gets his handsome features from."Â
Onyankopon's nostrils flared, âDonât be flirtinâ with me in front of our child, girl," he muttered, the heat in his low voice betraying him. Â
Your giggle spilled freely as you leaned even more into him, âToo late."Â
The monster truck show was deafening, and entirely too boyish for your liking. You spent most of it grimacing, and hiding behind Onyankoponâs shoulder each time you thought you were gonna witness a crime scene explosion. From the activities today? You were sure to be rewarded by this meal.Â
The scent of hickory smoke and sizzling meat hits you the moment you step into Big Mikeâs Smokehouseâa cacophony of laughter, clinking glasses, and bluesy guitar riffs pouring from the jukebox in the corner. The worn wooden booth creaks as you slide in beside Onyankopon, your thighs pressing together beneath the checkered tablecloth. Across from you, Asaud taps his fingers against the menu, though all three of you already know what youâre orderingâextra spicy ribs, collard greens swimming in pot liquor, and cornbread so buttery it melts on contact. Â
Your fingers trace idle circles over Onyankoponâs knuckles where his hand rests in your lap, his rough skin warm against your touch. You take a breath, leaning into his shoulder before murmuring, âDid you enjoy yourself today, baby?"Â
Asaud nods, a rare softness in his expression.Â
âI did. âPreciate yâall."Â
You smile, cheeks flushingâbut then you straighten slightly, catching Onyankoponâs eye.Â
âWellânow that weâve playedâletâs have a serious conversation, yeah?"Â
Asaudâs shoulders tense almost imperceptibly, but he nods.
âYes, maâam."Â
âJamal," Onyankopon starts, âWhat really happened between yâall?"Â
Asaud exhales through his nose, dragging a hand over his locs.
 "IâŚalways liked Sabine. Jamal knew that. âStill tried to get at her."Â
You hum, tilting your head.
 âI donât doubt sheâd like you, baby. Butââ You choose your words carefully, "Did she seemâŚresponsive to your feelings? Or does she actually like Jamal?"Â
Asaudâs jaw works before he mutters, âShe do like me. âTold me my dreads was cool last week."Â
Onyankopon blinks. Slowly.Â
Then turns to you, one brow archedâââThatâs how the lilâ girls get niggasâ attention?"
Your shoulders lift in a helpless shrug, âI guess?âÂ
Asaud frowns, âWhy yâall actinâ like confused old people right now?âÂ
You bite your lip, exhaling through your noseââIâm sorry, baby. Yâallâs generation is justâŚdifferent in courting each other. The only way you know how is toââÂ
Thenâit hits you. Like a freight train. Â
Your spine stiffens. Eyes widening, you lean halfway across the table, gripping Asaudâs hands tight enough to make him blink. Â
âAsaud?âÂ
He freezes.
 âLawd, Momma. You scarinâ me. Whatâs wrong?âÂ
âThisâŚSabine girlâŚyou havenâtâŚ?âÂ
âHavenât what?â Â
Onyankopon leans back, raising a brow.Â
Asaudâs gaze darts between you both before he huffs, âContrary to stereotypes with beinâ quarterbackâyes, MommaâIâm still a virgin. Damn.âÂ
The breath youâd been holding whooshes out of you. Your head drops forward, curls spilling over your shoulders as you clutch your chest.Â
âThank God! Okay, I justâŚwhew,â You fan yourself dramatically, âI almost fainted.âÂ
Asaud shifts in his seat, rubbing the back of his neck before he drops the bombshell.Â
âDespite yâall thinkinâ my head is loose, I plan on waitinâ âtil marriage."Â
âMon chĂŠri!â you squeal in Creole, launching yourself forward as you kiss his forehead no less than three times as he groans, trying to duck away.
âMwen si fiè de ou! Oh, mon bĂŠbĂŠ!âÂ
Oh, my baby!
Onyankopon watches, amusement lacing his voice as he mutters, âShe finnaâ start speakinâ in tonguesâdonât say shit else, boy."
You're still catching your breath from the emotional high when you lean forward, smoothing Asaudâs shirt before saying with earnest warmth, âOkayâwell, although thatâs amazing to hearâdonât be afraid to ask questions, baby. I know sex education isnât the best in schools, soâŚanything in that aspect, you know you can always come to us, right?"Â
Onyankopon clears his throat, "I think you gotta leave that conversation for me, shawtyâ"Â
You wave a hand dismissively, âWeâre supposed to be bonding! Donât leave me out of it.âÂ
Onyankopon exhales through his nose. He then says, ââYou right. Yoâ pops an open book, âSaud.â
Asaudâs gaze darts between you both, hesitating.Â
Then?Â
âDoes the pull out method really work?"Â
Your mouth drops. Of all the questionsâ Â
Heat floods your cheeks as your brain short-circuits. Before you can even think of a diplomatic answer, Onyankopon leans back, arms crossed, and says completely deadpanâ
âIonâ know. I nut in yoâ momma everytimeâ"Â
âOHMYGODââ
 You shriek in Creole, âPouki ou fè sa nan piblik?!â
Really, in public?
âSo how come ionâ got a sibling?â
Youâre so disturbed by Onyankopon who nonchalantly begins eating his food, taking a moment to process Asaudâs other question. You take a slow breath, fingers tightening around your napkin.Â
"I got my tubes tied after I had you, baby. Youâre my lifelineâbut it was a horrible pregnancy."
 Your hand drifts unconsciously to your lower stomach, remembering the months of bed rest, the way your ankles swelled like overripe fruit. Â
Then, shooting Onyankopon a look, you point a stern finger at AsaudââHad your father answered educationally, you wouldâve known why we can have unprotected sexâbut you should not! Condoms. Every. Time."
Onyankopon interjects, "Unless yâall in love. Then? âMake yoâ wife a twinkieâ.âÂ
Your fingers clutch desperately at the diner table as you squeak, âLetâs move on!ââvoice pitching high like a deflating balloon. You clear your throat, smoothing a hand over your top as you force yourself back into Mom Mode.Â
âWhat do you really like about this girl?â
Asaud pauses, staring down at his half-eaten ribs as if the bones might spell out the answer for him. For a moment, thereâs nothing but the clatter of silverware and Big Mikeâs raspy laugh booming from the kitchen.Â
âShe got thisâŚquiet way âbout her," he starts, voice lower than usual.Â
âLike, she donât gotta laugh loud to be heard. And when she do smileâ" He shakes his head, a faint grin tugging at his lipsââMan, itâs like she savinâ it just for you. Makes you feelâŚspecial, I guess."
You reach across the table, squeezing his wrist.Â
âThatâs sweet, baby. Real sweet. ButâŚ" You hesitate, exchanging a glance with Onyankopon before continuing gently, âAre you willing to pursue this girl and lose your best friend over it?"
Asaudâs jaw hardens, âJamal clearly ainât my friend."Â
Onyankopon shakes his head, âNah. Heâs a boy on some puppy love shitâjust like you.â
You now rub at Asaudâs knuckles.
âBaby, think about it. Jamal stayed at our house more nights than you did sometimes. Went to your cousins cookouts, helped your daddy fix up the carâ"Â
âEven came to yoâ grandmaâs funeral," Onyankopon cuts in, dead seriousââThatâs family shit."Â
Your voice softens, âA real friend wouldâve stepped back the moment he knew how you felt. But love makes people act stupidâespecially at yâallâs age. You sure this girl worth torching that bridge?"Â
Asaudâs throat bobs.
The dinerâs chatter fades into a dull hum as Asaud sits back, shoulders slumped beneath the weight of his thoughts. His fingers fiddle with the condensation on his sweet tea glass, tracing idle circles as he chews on his bottom lipâthe same nervous habit heâs had since he was a toddler. Â
Then, finally, he exhales sharply through his nose. Â
âA girl ainât finnaâ have me lose my wide receiver," he mutters, shaking his head.Â
âBut that âdonât mean I ainât got feelinâs, Momma."
He thinks on his words for a moment.Â
Asaudâs voice then drops lower, âA lot of my friendsâ parents donât get alongâdivorced, fightinâ, separated, only cordial âcause they made a mistake back in the day. I know I clown on yâallâs gushinessâŚâ he continues, waving a hand at the way youâre still practically draped over Onyankoponâs arm, âButâŚIâm glad I got parents that love each other. And I justâ" He hesitates, eyes flickering down before meeting yours againââI want somethinâ like that. Somethinâ real."Â
A whimpery giggle escapes you as tears well in your eyesâhot, stingingâbefore spilling over. Â
âShit, here âshe go," Onyankopon mutters, already rubbing at your hip affectionately.
Your heart swells so big it feels like it might burst right out of your chest. You slide out of the booth in one fluid motion, your hands cupping your son's faceârough stubble scratching your palms, his locs soft against your forearms.
âDo you know how much we love you, sweet boy?"Â
He rolls his eyes, but thereâs no real heat behind it. Â
âIâm knowinâ, Momma."Â Â
Then, quieterââLookâŚIâm sorry for beinâ mean to you yesterday. AndâŚ"
He glances at Onyankopon whoâs watching with his usual stoic expression, though his dark eyes hold a warmth only you and Asaud ever really seeââSorry to you too, Pops."Â
Thatâs all it takes. Â
You squeak, pulling him into a crushing embrace, smothering his face in kissesâhis forehead, his cheeks, the tip of his noseâwhile rapid-fire Creole endearments spill from your lips like a prayer. Â
âMon petit roi! Mon cĹur! Bondye beni ou, mwen renmen ou tout bagay!"Â
My little king ! God bless you, I love you with all my heart !
Asaud groans, half-heartedly trying to squirm awayâ"Damn, MommaâI said I was sorryâ"Â
âNon, non! Mwen pa fini ak ou!"Â
Iâm not done with you!Â
Onyankopon watches, shaking his headâbut when Asaud shoots him a pleading look, he just smirks and shrugs. Â
âTake yoâ medicine, boy."
Your bottom lip juts out in an exaggerated pout as you turn pleading eyes toward Onyankopon, fingers still tangled in Asaud's locs. Â
"Be sweet, Papa!" you urge, batting your lashes dramaticallyââTell your son you love himânone of that manly grunting stuff!"Â
Onyankopon exhales through his nose, but after a beat, his deep voice rumblesâlow, rough, but undeniably fondâ Â
âI love you, âSaud. Even when you actinâ dumb."
Asaud snorts, but the corner of his mouth lifts as he mutters back, âLove you too, Pops."Â
You sigh happily, finally releasing Asaudâonly to immediately eye his half-finished ribs.Â
âBaby, lemme get a bite ofâ"Â
âNuh uh!" Asaud yanks his plate away, nodding toward Onyankopon.Â
âYou better ask yoâ husband!"Â
Onyankopon slides his own plate toward you without a word, smirk smug as you stick your tongue out at Asaud. Â
âHaters," you mumble around a mouthful of smoky, tender meat. Â
Later, youâre curled into Onyankoponâs side on the couch, his heartbeat steady beneath your palm as some old cartoon flickers across the TV. The peace is shattered by Asaudâs bedroom door creaking open. He steps out fully dressedâhoodie, sneakers laced tightâand your head lifts from Onyankoponâs chest. Â
âYou okay, baby?"Â
Asaud shifts on his feet, avoiding eye contact.
âIâm straight. UhâŚJamal finnaâ be here in a couple minutes."Â
You and Onyankopon exchange frownsâjust as a knock echoes through the house. Â
Jamal now stands on the threshold when Asaud opens the door, hands shoved in his pockets, head slightly bowed.Â
âEveninâ, Mr. and Mrs. Osei.â
You blink, glancing between him and Asaudâwhoâs now lurking awkwardly by the foyer. Â
âUhâŚare yâallâŚokay now?"
âWe talked. It's straight," Asaud mutters, shifting his weight as he glances between you and Jamal. Â
Your eyes narrow slightly. Â
âSo that's it? Yâall ainât fighting over this girl no more?"Â
âThis my âquarterback, Mommaââ Jamal chuckles, âBeta to his alphaâeven though we both run shit, you know how it go."
âLanguage, âMal."Â
Jamal dips his head immediately at Onyankoponâs voiceââMy fault, Mr. Osei."Â
You exhale, shaking your head as you sink back against Onyankoponâs side. Â
âYou men are so strange."Â
Then, glancing back at Jamal with a small smile, you add, âWellâare you staying to hang out, Jamal?"Â
Before Jamal can answer, Asaud slips in smoothlyâtoo smoothlyââNah, we headed to a party."Â
Onyankoponâs arm tenses beneath you, his jaw tightening.Â
âDid you ask if you could go to a party?"
You press your palm gently against Onyankoponâs chest, âOny, câmon.âÂ
He exhales through his nose.Â
âCurfew at eleven. Not a minute later. And both of yâall better answer yoâ phones when I call.âÂ
Asaud nods quickly, relief flashing in his eyesââGot it."Â
"We out, then. Love yâall!âÂ
You wave them off with a smile, âBe safe!"Â
Your lashes flutter slightly as you watch Onyankoponâs sharp side profile an hour after they leaveâthe strong line of his jaw, the way braids shape out his face, his deep set eyes locked onto the TV screen like heâs studying every frame. You trace idle circles over his chest with your fingertips, admiring the way the dim lamplight catches the faint sheen of his skin. Â
"What you starinâ at, girl?"Â
You grin, pressing a kiss just above his heart. Â
âMy amazing husband."Â
âMmmâ, he rumbles, âYou just love flirtinâ with a nigga.â
You murmur, âMaybe," in a playful toneâthen, with a gentle tug at his chin, you guide his face toward yours.
âYou havenât kissed your wife all day."
âDamn,â he grips at your waist, âA nigga finnaâ get locked up, huh?"Â
You giggle close to his lips, âLife with no parole."Â
And then his mouth crashes into yoursâfull, warm, tasting like sweet tea and the lingering smokiness of barbecue. His kiss is slow at first, until you smoothly climb onto his lap, knees pressing into the couch cushions on either side of his hips. Your fingers tangle at the nape of his neck as you deepen the kiss, your tongue teasing his bottom lip until a rough grunt vibrates against your mouth. Â
âWhy you feeninâ?âÂ
You donât answerâtoo busy loosening his belt with practiced ease, your lips trailing down his neck as you palm him through his pants, earning another gravelly curse through your husband's mouth.Â
âSaudâ could walk back in this house at any moment, girlâ"Â
Your laughter spills against his collarbone in breathy giggles, warm and honeyed, as your fingers hook into the waistband of his pantsâfinally freeing him into your grip. The moment his tip springs free, your breath catchesâa sharp, needy whine escaping your throat as your eyes drink in the sight of himâthick, flushed, veins straining against heated skin, the tip already glistening with his impatience. Â
ââM hungry, Papa. Can I?âÂ
You mewl these words so desperately, lips brushing the twitching head as you gaze up at him through fluttering lashes. Â
Onyankoponâs grip tightens in your curlsânot pulling, just holdingâas he rasps, âGoddamn. Aight.âÂ
Your tongue then darts out, tracing the swollen ridge beneath his crown, relishing the salt-sweet taste of him before dipping into his slit. His hips jerkâhardâknocking a choke from your lungs, but you donât relent. Instead, you press open-mouthed kisses along his shaft, nuzzling into the thatch of coarse hair at the base before swirling your tongue around the tip again. Â
âHollonâ, Mamaââ he grits out, fingers flexing in your hair, but youâre already sinking down, taking him halfway with a blissful whimper. The stretch burns sweetly, your lips sealing around him as hollowed cheeks suck him deeper. His thighs tremble beneath you, a ragged, âFuckââ tearing from his chest as your tongue swirls along his length on the upstroke. Â
You pull off with a lewd pop, running your tongue viciously against your puffy lips at the way his stomach muscles clench.Â
âMissed this,â you purr, licking a stripe from root to tip before swallowing him down againâdeeper this timeâuntil your nose brushes his skin. His groan is filthy, echoing through the living room as his head thuds back against the couch. Â
âGonâ make me act up,â he warns, voice dark with promiseâbut you just whimper again around him, eyes fluttering shut as you bob faster, hungrier. The wet sounds of your mouth on him mix with his ragged breaths, the cartoon still playing forgotten in the background.Â
Your lips stretch obscenely, saliva pooling at the corners of your mouth as you take him all the way downânose pressed into his pelvis, throat fluttering wildly around the intrusion. Your eyes roll back slightly at the stretch, tears pricking at the corners as you whimper around his girth againâ needy, gagging sound that vibrates against his skin and makes his hips jerk instinctively. Â
âFuckâlook at you," Onyankopon growls, fingers tightening in your curls, yanking just enough to make you mmphâair rushing into your lungs before you dive back down, hollowing your cheeks shamelessly. Â
You pull off with another wet pop, spit slick lips swollen and glistening as you pantâonly to spit directly onto his dick, the glob of saliva trailing thickly down his shaft before you smear it with your mouth. You then smack his length against your tongue, giggling breathlessly.
âGoddamn," he snarls heavier, voice dripping with lustâa vein popping in his neck as he glares down at you like he wants to eat you alive. Â
You swirl your tongue around his tip, lapping at the precum beading there before sinking back downâdeeper, messierâyour throat working in desperate swallows around him. Drool drips down your chin, your brows knitting together in a mix of pleasure and strain as you gag prettily around himâthe sounds leaving your mouth absolutely disgusting.Â
âAinât no way you suckinâ dick this good and actinâ all innocent at the dinner table," he grunts, thrusting shallowly into your throat, his grip on your hair bordering on painfulââFuckinâ gluttonâcanât even breathe right and you still trynaâ swallow my shit whole.âÂ
You give a desperate moan in responseâhalf-protest, half-agreementâyour fingers digging into his thighs as you bob faster, sloppier, spit and precum fully smearing across your lips. His hips buck up violently, forcing himself deeper as he curses under his breathââGonâ make this bitch nut all over yoâ pretty ass face.âÂ
You're drunk off himâevery suck, every gag, every slurp of your lips dragging up his shaft leaving you dizzy with greed. Your tongue lolls obscenely along the underside of his cock, spit-slick and desperate, drool dripping in thick strands onto his heavy balls, making them glisten under the dim light. The mess coats your chin, smears across your cheeksâruins you beautifullyâbut you donât care, too lost in the taste of him, the weight of him on your tongue. Â
You usually askâPapa, can I?âbut right now, you donât want permission. You want everything.Â
So with an aroused impatience you climb fully into his lap, knees sinking into the couch cushions on either side of his thighs. One hand grips his shoulder for balance as you yank your capris with the other, exposing bare skinâno panties, never panties when you knew heâd be home. His tip slaps wetly against your folds, already soaked just from sucking him off, and you whimperâhigh and brokenâas his thumb ruthlessly circles your clit, sending sparks up your spine. Â
His mouth crashes into yours, tongues tangling sloppily, spit mixing between you as he grunts against your lipsâ Â
âI ainât movinâ. Put that bitch in.âÂ
Your fingers knot in the hair at the nape of his neck as you sink downâslowly, so slowlyâstretching around him inch by torturous inch. And the burn? Itâs delicious. White-hot and overwhelming, your walls fluttering wildly as you take him deeper. Your eyes even begin to water, lashes sticking together as tears spill over, your mouth trembling against his in a silent sob. Â
Thenâsquelchâa wet, gushing sound punches from your pussy as you bottom out, his hips fully flush against your ass. The obscene noiseâlike air forced from a tight spaceâmakes you shudder, your thighs shaking violently around him. Â
âFuckââ Onyankopon snarls into your mouth, his grip on your waist bruising, âTight-ass pussy always tryna act brand new.â
You whimperâpitiful, unable to do nothing else.
His palms cradle the plush underside of your thighsâcalloused fingertips digging into soft flesh as he lifts you effortlessly, your body hovering above him for one breathless moment before he drops you back down. Â
The descent is slowâagonizingâevery inch of him dragging against your walls until youâre whimpering nonsensically, Creole curses and praise tumbling from your lips in a slurred messâ Â
âAhâMon DieuâPapa, li two choâ!â
Thenâsmackâyour ass lands heavy against his thighs, skin sticking wetly before peeling apart with a lewd clap that ricochets through the living room. Your vision whites out for a second, mouth falling slack as pleasure crackles up your spineâ Â
âShit.â
Your voice fractures, knees trembling where they bracket his hips. His grip tightensâlifting you againâonly to drop you back onto him, the force punching the air from your lungs. Â
âFuck,â you sob, nails raking down his chest, âPâPapa, li two gwoâ!âÂ
Youâre too big.Â
âTalk that shit now,â he taunts, âThought you was hungry?âÂ
âOâO bondyeâP-Papaâ!âÂ
I canât.
The fabric of your top crumples violently in Onyankoponâs fistsâfingers twisting, yanking the material taut as he uses it like reins to drive you down onto him. Every bounce wrenches a gasp from your lips, your body jolting with each punishing thrust, his dick spearing into you with a relentless, bruising rhythm. Your face crumples, pouting down at himâeyes glazed, lips swollen and tremblingâas he growls up at you in thick, guttural Creole.
"Ou vle sa, mm? Ou vle Papa kraze ou?"Â
You want me to break yoâ shit, huh?
You nod frantically, a pathetic, shuddering âMm-hmmâ!" hiccuping from your throat as your cream spills obscenely down his shaft, pooling at the base where his balls glisten with your slick. Â
âIâIâm gonnaâ cumâ!" you mewl, voice breaking, thighs quivering as your walls flutter wildly around him. Â
But Onyankopon doesnât speed upâdoesnât slow downâjust keeps grinding you onto him at that same, devastating pace, letting you feel every inch as your orgasm crests. Your back arches, a silent scream tearing through you as your pussy gushesâhot, wet pulses of arousal soaking his lap, dripping down his abdomen in sticky rivulets. Â
âRegarde ça," Look at that, he mutters, voice rough with lust as he watches you squirt all over himââFais un gros dĂŠsordre, mm?"Â
âMade a big fuckinâ mess.
Onyankoponâs grip shiftsâhis hands cinching around your waist as he stands in one fluid motion, twisting you midair before slamming your back flush against his chest. Your breath hitches, fingers scrambling at his forearms as he bends you forward in the same motion, your spine arching obscenely as he crowds over you.
âAinât took my pussy like this innaâ minute. Let a nigga feel you.âÂ
This positionâback arched deep, ass tilted up, your body folded in halfâwas never one you could handle. He knew it. You knew it. Years of marriage, and he only pulled it out on two occasions: when youâd pissed him off just enough to deserve itâor when he wanted to ruin you so thoroughly youâd forget your own name. Â
His dick sinks back into youâslow, sadisticâthe stretch bordering on pain as your walls flutter wildly around him. A petulant whimper claws from your throat, your face tucking into your own shoulder as you try to steady yourself. Â
Too deep. Too much.Â
Before you can adjust, his palm wraps around your throat from behindâhis fingers splayed possessively as he jerks his hips forward, bottoming out with a force that makes your vision blur.  Â
Your cry is muffled against your own skin, tears pricking at your lashes as he starts movingâno build-up, no mercyâjust deep, piston-like thrusts that punch the air from your lungs with every snap of his hips. Â
âAlways actinâ brand new,â he grits out, âLike I ainât had this pussy a thousand times.âÂ
Onyankopon yanks your head back as he starts fucking you with those long, slow, punishing strokes, burying himself to the hilt each time with a rough grunt. Your entire body shudders in shock, fingers clawing at your own ankles as you struggle to stay grounded, but thereâs no escapeâjust the relentless drag of him stretching you open, over and over, the obscene squelch of your soaked pussy echoing in the air between you. Â
A dumb, pleasure-drunk frown twists your faceâeyebrows knitted, lips parted in a silent gaspâbefore your voice finally shatters into whiny, hiccupping sobs. Â
âOhh my god. Shit. Ughn, fuckâ!"Â
Your thighs tremble violently, your back bowing even more as pleasure coils tighter in your gutâeach thrust dragging you closer to the edge. But he doesnât stop, doesnât slow down. Just keeps stroking into youârough, unhurried, perfectâuntil your mind whites out completely.
The next shift happens like lightningâhis arms wrapping around you, hauling you flush against his chest as he lifts you just enough that your toes barely skim the floor, his strength suspending you effortlessly between his body and the air. His palm presses flat against your throat againâhis lips dragging hot against the shell of your ear as his thrusts turn uneven, deeper, desperate.Â
âMissed this shit... missed youâŚâÂ
Youâre too far gone to answerâjust weakly nodding, your head lolling back against his shoulder as pleasure crackles through every nerve. Onyankoponâs thrusts turn frantic, his breath ragged against your neck, his voice breaking every snap of his hipsâ Â
âShitâfuckâgonâ make meâ"Â
Your body achesâmuscles trembling, thighs slick with sweatâbut you force yourself to roll your hips back against him anyway, meeting each deep thrust with a weak but determined grind. Your voice is nothing but a breathless whimper, barely audible over the filthy slap of skin, but you need him to hear your words.  Â
âI love youâlove you so muchââÂ
Your words dissolve into a gasp as he rams into you again, the force of it making your toes curl against the floor. You tilt your head back, pressing your temple against his, lips brushing his jaw as you whisperâ Â
âSuch a good...good father... takinâ care of us.âÂ
Onyankopon groansâlow, rawâthe sound vibrating against your skin as his fingers flex possessively around your throat.Â
"Fuckâ" he grits out, voice strainedâalmost shyâas if heâs not used to being unraveled like this. Â
You reach back blindly, fingers tangling in his braids, tugging just enough to make him growl. Â
âSound so pretty,â you slur.
He curses again, biting at your shoulder as if you contain his own pleasure.Â
âChill.â
His warning rumbles against your lips, but it's unsteadyâalmost shakingâhis usual arrogance stripped bare as his breath hitches. You donât listen. Instead, you crash your mouth against his in a sloppy, desperate kiss, swallowing his next groan whole as he thrusts up into youâharder, deeperâhis hips pistoning in a rhythm that has you both practically singing into each otherâs mouths. Â
His moan becomes muffled against your lipsââOooh, shitââ low and graveled, his forehead pressing against yours as his pace turns erratic. You nod frantically, whimpering in agreement, your own sounds just as broken as his, your nails scraping down his chest as you begin begging him.Â
âFill me up, baby.âÂ
And thatâs all it takes. Â
Onyankopon cums with a ragged groan, his entire body tensing as he spills into you in thick, pulsing wavesâhot, endless, like heâs been holding back for weeks. His fingers dig into your hips hard enough to bruise as he rides it out, fucking his release even deeper inside you. Â
You giggleâweak, breathless, but elatedâthe sensation of him twitching inside you sending little aftershocks of pleasure through your own trembling body.Â
Onyankoponâs chest heaves against your back, his lips still hovering over yours as he muttersââGoddamn."Â
âMmm,â you arch farther into his touch, âWouldâve gotten that last night if you werenât so tiredâŚ"Â
His lips drag slowly along the curve of your earâhot breath making you shiver as he murmurs, âPatience builds tension, girl.âÂ
He grinds deep one last time, lazily rocking into you just to feel your walls flutter weakly around him. Â
Your fingers tighten around his forearm, a pathetic little ââM tired now, PapaâŚ" slipping from your lipsâweak, whiny, still buzzing from pleasure. Â
âOh, âyou tired now?â
You twist in his arms, draping yourself fully against himâyour arms looping around his neck, forehead pressing to his as you sigh, âCâmonn, let's go shower."Â Â
âAight. We hunchinâ again?"Â
âNo, boy! I wanna go to bed. It's nearly twelve."Â
He smacks his lips, eyes flicking past you to the clock on the wallâthen freezes.Â
âIt's what time?"Â
You blink up at him, suddenly aware of the shift in his toneâthat dangerous edge creeping in.Â
âUmâŚfifteen minutes to twelve?" you offer hesitantly. Â
Onyankopon exhales sharply through his nose, jaw tightening as he looks down at you with narrowed eyes.Â
âImma' kill yo' son."Â
Your hands fly up in protest, gripping his shouldersââWell hold on!âHe's a little over curfew, it's fine!â
âSo now I'm doin' too much?â He smacks his lips, pulling back just enough to level you with a lookâmockingly pitching his voice higher, mimicking your earlier whimpersâ ââYouâre such a good fatherââwhat happened to allatâ, huh?"Â
You squeak, cheeks flushing hot as you slap a hand over his mouth, cutting off his teasing.Â
âStop it!âÂ
He licks your palmânastyâmaking you yelp and yank your hand back as he grins, triumphant.Â
âSo you gonâ need the belt after him, huh?âÂ
You scrunch your nose.
âNo. And youâre grumpy.âÂ
A chuckle rumbles deep in his chest, but he doesnât pull awayâjust tilts his head, pressing his forehead a little harder against yours in that way he does when heâs softening, letting you know heâs conceding. Â
âImmaâ let up, aight?"Â
Your shoulders relax, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as you exhale, melting into him. Â
â'âŚâKay.âÂ
His lips brush your temple before he murmurs, âLemmeâ just call and check on âemâafter that? Immaâ rub on yoâ feet and knock the fuck out."
You exhale as he finally pulls away, shaking your head with a quiet laugh. Always unable to let go of that protective dad instinct, even when he was supposed to be letting upâbut that was just him. Overbearing, stubborn, yours. Â
The moment settles into something tender as you watch him grab his phone off the coffee table, his heavy silhouette outlined by the dim light of the living room. Â
âI love you," you murmur, the words slipping out sweet and easyâlike they always did. Â
He pauses mid-step, glancing back at you over his shoulder, the corner of his mouth tilting up in that rare, real smileâthe one reserved just for you. Â
ââLove you more, girl.âÂ
And just like thatâthe day ends, wrapped in warmth, in home, in family.
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hey babes, i was wondering if you decided on reuploading the fic w/ ony and basketball reader, and theyâre in college ? that was my favorite i swear.
i actually lost the damn file for it ;( but once i find it, absolutely !!!