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the bass thrummed through your chest, making your heartbeat sync with the pulsing rhythm that shook the club's foundation. strobe lights cut through the haze of smoke and body heat.

the first time you spotted her she was in a section, surrounded by people. her body was covered in ink, designs that snaked up her arms, following into the cropped black tank that clung to her frame, and emerged again at her collarbones.

you weren’t the only one looking— those soft green of pressed sage eyes found you across the crowded dance floor, everything else fell away.

her gaze traveled slowly, deliberately.

started at your thighs, thick and plush in the dress that hugged every curve of your brown skin, the fabric riding up slightly as you moved.

your hips rolled with each step, a natural sway that had always been yours, that made the sequined hem shimmer and catch light like stars. her eyes climbed higher, taking in the dip of your waist, the full swell of your breasts, the elegant line of your neck.

finally, they settled on your lips, glossed and covered in glitter that sparkled every time the lights swept over you.

then she smiled.

and then she moved.

she descended from the vip section with purpose, her combat boots hitting each step with confidence you could feel even from across the room.

bodies pressed together on the dance floor, a writhing mass of limbs and sweat-slicked skin, but she swiftly got through them like she owned the space.

you watched her approach, your pulse quickening with each step she took closer.

the lights caught her in fragments— a flash of tattooed shoulder, the sharp line of her jaw, those rings glinting on her slender fingers as her hands cut through the air.

gold bands stacked on nearly every finger, thick and thin, some plain and others ornate. when she pushed past a group of dancers,

the soft, melodic jingle of bangles sliding down her wrist. the sound shouldn't have reached you over the thundering bass, but somehow it did, cutting through everything else like a bell.

the heat in the club was oppressive, the kind that made your skin dewy and your dress cling to places it hadn't before. the air was thick with the scent of expensive cologne mixing with cheap body spray, the sharp tang of spilled liquor and the musk of too many bodies in too small a space.

the dj transitioned into something slower, something with a deeper bass that you felt in your bones, in the soft parts of your belly.

even between your thighs.

she was closer now. close enough that you could see the details of her tattoos— a fireflies that coiled around her forearm, script you couldn't quite read that disappeared beneath her tank top.

close enough to see the small hoop in her nose, the undercut hidden beneath the longer dark hair that fell across her forehead.

close enough to see the hunger in her eyes.

your friends had scattered somewhere in the crowd, lost to their own nights, their own encounters. you were alone when she finally reached you, standing at the edge of the dance floor where the lights didn't quite reach, where the shadows offered something like privacy in a room full of hundreds.

"paris," she said, leaning in close so you could hear her over the music. her voice was lower than you expected, rough around the edges like whiskey.

her breath was warm against your ear, and you felt goosebumps rise on your arms despite the heat.

you told her your name, watched the way her lips curved around it when she repeated it back to you, testing the shape of it in her mouth.

"dance with me," she said, and it wasn't really a question.

her hand found yours first, fingers threading through yours, and you felt the cool metal of her rings against your palm. she pulled you onto the dance floor, into the thick of the crowd where bodies moved like a single organism, pulsing with the beat.

the music wrapped around you both, something hypnotic, all bass and drums and a melody that felt like it was climbing up your spine.

paris moved behind you, and suddenly her body was there— close but not quite touching, a whisper of space between you that felt electric. you could feel her presence like heat, like gravity pulling you back.

your hips began to move, that same natural roll that had caught her attention, and you felt rather than heard her sharp intake of breath.

her hands hovered at your waist, fingers barely grazing the fabric of your dress. the touch was light & tentative in a way that felt careful, like she was giving you the chance to pull away.

you didn't. instead, you leaned back, closing that final inch of distance, and felt her body align with yours.

she was all lean muscle and sharp angles where you were soft curves. the contrast made something low in your belly tighten. her hands settled more firmly on your waist now, thumbs pressing into the small of your back.

you moved together, finding a rhythm that had nothing to do with the music and everything to do with the heat building between you. your ass pressed back against her hips, and you felt her fingers flex, gripping tighter. the sequins of your dress caught on her rings, creating a soft scratching sound that somehow felt intimate.

bodies pressed in around you, strangers lost in their own worlds— but you were hyperaware of only her. the way her breath came faster against your neck.

the way one of her hands slid from your waist to your hip, then lower, fingers splaying across your thigh where the dress had ridden up, touching bare skin.

you turned in her arms, needing to see her face, and found paris’s eyes already locked on yours.

they were darker now, pupils blown wide, and the want in them was unmistakable. your hands found her shoulders, felt the warmth of her skin, the raised texture of her tattoos beneath your fingertips.

she pulled you closer, eliminating any remaining space between your bodies. your belly pressed against the firm plane of her stomach. your breasts pressed against her chest. your thighs bracketed one of hers, and when she shifted, pressing her leg between yours, you couldn't stop the small gasp that escaped.

her hand slid up your back, over your shoulder, along the elegant line of your neck. then her fingers wrapped around your throat.

not squeezing, not yet— just holding, possessive like and sure. her palm was hot against your skin, and you felt your pulse hammering against her touch, knew she could feel it too. her thumb rested just beneath your jaw, tilting your face up to hers.

"tell me to stop," she said, her voice slightly coarse, her lips so close to yours that you could taste her breath.

you didn't.

instead, you fisted your hands in her tank top and pulled her in.

the kiss was nothing gentle. her mouth crashed against yours, hungry and demanding, and you opened for her immediately. her tongue slid against yours, hot and insistent, and you tasted mint and vodka, something that made your head spin.

the hand around your throat tightened slightly, just enough pressure to make you gasp into her mouth, and she swallowed the sound like she was starving for it.

her other hand slid down your back, over the curve of your spine, and then she was gripping your ass— hard, fingers digging into the soft flesh through the thin fabric of your dress.

she pulled your hips flush against hers, and you felt the heat of her body, felt the way she was just as affected as you were.

you rolled your hips against her, and her grip tightened. the thought made you dizzy.

she kissed you like she was trying to consume you.

like she wanted to crawl inside your skin.

her tongue explored your mouth, claiming every inch, and when she pulled back to bite your bottom lip, you felt the sting of it.

the hand around your throat guided you, tilting your head to the side so she could kiss along your jaw, down your neck. her teeth scraped against your pulse point, and your knees went weak. her arm around your waist was the only thing keeping you upright as she sucked a mark into your skin.

"fuck," you breathed, and felt her smile against your throat.

she pulled back to look at you, and her lips were swollen, glittering with the gold from your mouth. her eyes were wild, pupils blown so wide, her chest heaved with each breath, and you realized you were both panting.

the club pulsed around you lights, music, bodies— but it all felt distant.

like you were in a bubble that contained only the two of you and this moment and the electricity crackling between your bodies.

"come with me," paris said, her hand still around your throat, her thumb stroking along your jaw.

and when she took your hand and led you through the crowd, toward the back of the club where the shadows grew deeper and the music felt like it was inside your chest, you followed without hesitation.​

— ᢉ𐭩 .ᐟ the whole family just fine

unfortunately your best friend dragged you out to a party you didn't wanna be at. like, of all the parties in the city, it had to be where he was staying?

"nai, deadass, ion know how i let you convince me into going. i don't wanna see that boy," you sighed, arms crossed as you stood outside the house.

the bass was already rattling the windows, and you could see bodies moving through the curtains. this was a mistake.

your bestfriend nai rolled her eyes "bitch, you've been rotting in that house all damn year. like, i love you, but you need to touch grass. have some fun for once."

she grabbed your wrist, tugging you toward the door with a grin that said she wasn't taking no for an answer.

you tried to plant your feet, but nai was stronger than she looked.

"fun? nai, i called him out his name, now you got me walking into somewhere he could potentially be at like it’s normal?"

"girl, that was months ago. he probably don't even remember—"

"he remember."

"well, then he can stay mad! you look too good to be worried about him anyway." she looked you up and down, nodding approvingly at your outfit.

"besides, if he wanna act up, we can leave. but you not finna spend another night laid up in your bed doing nothing. period."

you sucked your teeth but didn't argue further. she had a point. and maybe— getting out would do you some good. even if it meant risking an awkward run-in with your ex.

the second y'all stepped through the door, the music was loud. some sexy redd track that had everybody moving, the room was packed shoulder to shoulder. red solo cups everywhere, & the unmistakable scent of weed smacked you dead in the face.

nai immediately locked eyes with some lightskin dude leaning against the wall, and you already knew what time it was.

"nai—"

"girl, i'll be right back! just go get a drink, mingle a lil bit. you'll be fine!" she was already halfway across the room before you could protest, leaving you standing there like a lost puppy.

well, damn.

you made your way to the kitchen, weaving through people who were way too drunk and way too close. the counter was lined with bottles— henny, casamigos, pink whitney, some cheap vodka that nobody was touching. you grabbed a cup and poured yourself whatever was closest, not even caring at this point.

the warm liquor burned its way down your throat, settling heavy in your chest. you pulled out your phone, already calculating how long you had to stay before it was socially acceptable to dip. thirty minutes? an hour? you were leaning toward twenty.

you stood off to the side, back against the wall, observing the chaos.

you kept your head down, scrolling through your phone like you were busy, praying nobody took it as an invitation to come talk to you. ready to get in your pajamas and go the fuck to bed.

but god wasn't on your side tonight.

"ain't expect to see yo pretty ass here."

that voice. the one you dreaded hearing.

deep. smooth. familiar in a way that made your stomach drop. you didn't even have to look up to know who it was, you froze, cup halfway to your lips.

there he was.

your ex. the one you'd cussed out in a parking lot three months ago. the one you swore you'd never speak to again. standing right in front of you with that same cocky smirk, gold chain catching the light.

he looked good. too good. and he knew it.

"and what do you want jermajesty?" you shot back, trying to sound unbothered even though your pulse was doing backflips. you took another sip of your drink, using it as a shield.

he laughed, low and easy, "chill mama, saw you over here by yourself.”

“just checkin on you”

you rolled your eyes. "don't call me mama. you don’t need to check up on me. i’m waitin for my homegirl."

"mann, you still friends with that hoe? she ain’t no good"

his eyes dragged over you slowly, taking in your outfit, your hair, everything. "you look good though. real good."

you hated how your body reacted to that. hated the way your skin heated up under his gaze. hated that after all this time, he still had that effect on you.

"don't start," you muttered, looking away.

"start what? i'm just saying." he stepped a little closer, and you could smell his cologne now—the same one he always wore, the one that used to cling to your clothes after you spent the night.

“you not fucking with me or something?”

"clearly not. we don't talk no more, remember?"

"yeah, i remember. you made that real clear." he scratched at the back of his head, and for a second, something flickered in his eyes. hurt, maybe. "called me a lame ass nigga, said you never wanted to see me again. that ring a bell?"

you'd said that. and you'd meant it at the time—or at least, you thought you did. but now, standing here with him looking at you, you weren't so sure.

"you was acting lame," you said defensively, crossing your arms.

"and you was acting childish."

"excuse me?"

"you heard me." he tilted his head, studying you. "but i ain't come over here to argue. i just wanted to see if you was good. that's all."

the sincerity in his voice caught you off guard. you searched his face, looking for the lie, but all you saw was him. the same him you'd fallen for. the same him you'd walked away from.

"i'm good," you said quietly, your defenses cracking just a little.

"yeah?" he reached out, fingers brushing against your wrist, sending a shock up your arm. "you sure about that?"

you swallowed hard, your mouth became dry. this was dangerous. this whole conversation was dangerous. you should just walk away..

but you didn't move.

"why you care?" you asked instead, voice barely above a whisper.

his eyes locked on yours, intense and unwavering. "you really gotta ask me that?"

the question hung in the air between you, heavy with everything left unsaid. your heart was doing that thing again that stupid, traitorous thing where it forgot all the reasons you'd left.

all the late nights you'd spent crying. all the arguments that went nowhere. all the times you'd sworn you were done.

the party noise seemed to fade. the music, the laughter, all of it became background to this moment. to him standing so close you could feel the heat radiating off his body, wrapped around you like muscle memory.

your chest felt tight, like something was squeezing your lungs. you wanted to say something cutting, something that would put distance back between you. something that would remind both of you why this ended in the first place.

but the truth was sitting right there in your throat, bitter and indisputable.

but the truth was sitting right there in your throat, bitter and indisputable. you'd been lying to yourself, all the months of "healing" and "moving on" was a show you put on so convincing you'd almost believed it yourself.

almost.

his thumb traced a slow circle on the inside of your wrist, and your breath hitched.

"i shouldn't be here," you whispered, but you didn't pull away.

"but you are, baby" he said softly, stepping even closer. close enough that you had to tilt your head back to maintain eye contact.

you couldn't go there. you wouldn’t go there.

except his free hand came up to cup your jaw, gentle but possessive, and your resolve crumbled like sand.

his voice dropping lower, more intimate. "tell me you don't miss me, i'll walk away right now and i'll leave you alone."

you opened your mouth. the lie sat on the tip of your tongue, but you couldn't say it.

every rapid heartbeat, every shallow breath. you felt it in the way your body leaned into his touch without permission, in the way your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt.

three months. three months of blocking his number, avoiding his favorite spots, pretending you didn't stalk his instagram at 2am. three months of building walls and convincing yourself you were better off.

and it embarrassingly took less than ten minutes for him to tear it all down.

his forehead pressed against yours, and you let your eyes flutter closed. this was a mistake. you knew it was a mistake. tomorrow you'd regret this. tomorrow you'd have to explain to nai why you were so stupid. tomorrow you'd have to rebuild everything you'd just destroyed.

but right now, there was only him. only this. only the inevitable pull of something that never really ended, no matter how hard you'd tried to kill it.

"fuck," you breathed out, and it sounded like surrender. his lips curved into a smile against your skin.

and just like that, you were right back where you started.

maj is so paaa, i need him

you were spoiled rotten by michael. whenever things didn't go your way, all it took was a drawn-out "mikey" and a pout, & you got exactly what you wanted. of course a bratty attitude came with it. as long as everything worked out in your favor, you were perfectly content.

the moment the store clerk told you they didn't have whatever skirt you wanted in your size, your mood soured. what started as a complaint quickly turned into a full-blown scene, gaining irritated glances from nearby shoppers. michael stood there for a moment, jaw clenched, clearly reaching the end of his patience.

he had indulged your behavior countless times before, but today was different.

before it could get possibly any worse, he grabbed your arm and pulled you out of the store, muttering apologies over his shoulder to the employee. his grip was firm enough to make you wince, and it wouldn't have been surprising if it left a bruise later. for once, no amount of whining or pleading seemed capable of changing his mind.

the car ride was silent and tense. michael's knuckles were white against the steering wheel, his jaw still clenched as he navigated toward the parking garage. you sat in the passenger seat, arms crossed, still fuming about the skirt, he pulled into a hidden corner and killed the engine.

"get in the back," he said quietly, his voice carrying an edge that made your stomach flip.

you hesitated for only a moment before obeying, climbing into the back seat. michael followed, closing the door behind him with a soft but deliberate click. the space suddenly felt impossibly small.

"do you have any idea how embarrassing that was?" he asked, his voice low and controlled. "throwing a tantrum like a child in front of all those people?"

"i just wanted—" you started, but he cut you off.

"i don't care what you wanted. you're a slut, you know that? a bratty little slut who thinks the world revolves around her." his words were a harsh, but you couldn’t help but to almost drool at them. "i'm tired of this attitude. tired of indulging every whim, every pout, every little demand."

he reached for the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head. his hands stopped at your skirt— some materialistic thing you'd been so desperate for.

"you wanted it so badly?" he murmured, his hands now gripping your waist.

"then you're going to keep it on while i remind you your place."

his hands slid beneath the fabric of the skirt, fingers hooking into your panties and dragging them down your thighs with deliberate slowness. the air felt cool against your exposed skin, and you couldn't help the shiver that ran through you.

his fingers traced along your inner thigh, the rough pads of his fingertips leaving trails of heat in their wake. you could feel yourself already slick with arousal, your body betraying how much his dominance affected you. when his fingers finally brushed against your folds, you gasped at the contact, your hips jerking involuntarily toward his hand.

he explored you slowly, maddeningly, his fingers sliding through your wetness with a deliberate pressure that made your thighs tremble. one finger circled your clit with just enough friction to make you ache for more, while his other hand gripped your hip firmly, holding you in place. you tried to shift closer, to increase the pressure, but his grip tightened in warning.

"answer me," he said, his voice low.

"yes," you breathed, the admission tumbling out before you could stop it.

without warning, he pushed two fingers inside you. the sudden fullness made you cry out, your back arching off the leather seat. he didn't give you time to adjust, immediately setting a rhythm that had your inner walls clenching around the intrusion. his thumb found your clit, circling with maddening precision as his fingers pumped in and out, the wet sounds of your arousal filling the confined space.

the skirt bunched around your waist as you writhed beneath his touch. his fingers curled inside you, finding that spot that made white spots dance across your vision. the dual sensation of his fingers inside you and his thumb on your clit built a pressure low in your belly that threatened to overwhelm you. your hands clutched at his shoulders, nails digging into fabric as pleasure coiled tighter and tighter.

just when you thought you couldn't take anymore, he withdrew his fingers, leaving you empty and aching. you heard the sound of his belt buckle, the rustle of fabric, and then he was positioning himself between your thighs. his pink tip pressed against your entrance, hot and hard, the blunt pressure making you whimper.

you whimpered, beyond words. "i need you. i'm sorry—"

he thrust into you in one smooth motion, filling you completely. the stretch was intense, almost too much, your body struggling to accommodate his size. you cried out at the sensation, at the feeling of being so utterly full, so completely claimed. he didn't give you time to adjust, immediately setting a punishing pace that had you gripping the leather seats for support.

each thrust drove him deeper, the angle hitting spots inside you that made coherent thought impossible. his fingers dug into your hips hard enough to bruise, using the grip to pull you onto him with each stroke. the friction was overwhelming— the drag of his cock against your inner walls, the pressure against that sensitive spot deep inside, the way your clit rubbed against him with every movement.

your body responded instinctively, hips rising to meet his thrusts, inner muscles clenching around him. sweat beaded on your skin despite the cool air, your breath coming in short gasps. the leather beneath you was slick with perspiration, squeaking with each movement. the car rocked with the force of his thrusts, the windows beginning to fog.

his hand slid up to wrap around your throat. not squeezing, just holding, a reminder of his control. the pressure made you hyperaware of every sensation, the fullness of him inside you, the friction with each thrust, the building pressure in your core. tears of overwhelming pleasure pricked at your eyes as he brought you right to the edge and held you there.

you sobbed, your body trembling with the effort of holding back. " daddy! i can't—it's too much—"

his thumb found your clit again, circling with just enough pressure to make you see stars. your walls clenched around him involuntarily, your entire body wound tight as a bowstring. every nerve ending felt electrified, every touch magnified tenfold.

he leaned down, his lips brushing your ear. "come for me. now."

the orgasm crashed over you in waves, your body convulsing around him as you cried out. your inner walls spasmed, clenching rhythmically around his cock as pleasure so intense it bordered on pain radiated through every nerve. your back arched, your thighs trembling uncontrollably as wave after wave of sensation washed over you.

he followed moments later, his rhythm faltering as he buried himself deep inside you with a groan. you felt him pulse, felt the warmth of his release flooding you, milking every last drop as he shuddered above you.

for a long moment, neither of you moved, both breathing hard in the confined space of the back seat. the skirt was still bunched around your waist.

slowly, he pulled out and helped you adjust the skirt back down, his touch gentler now. his expression had shifted from stern to something softer, more tender.

afterward, you lay tangled together in the cramped back seat, your breathing gradually evening out. michael's hand traced gentle circles on your bare shoulder, a stark contrast to the intensity of moments before. he pulled you closer, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"i'm sorry," you whispered, your voice small and sincere. "i was being awful. i didn't mean to embarrass you like that."

"i know princess" he said softly, his fingers threading through your hair. "but you needed to learn. you needed to remember that there are consequences when you act like that."

you nodded against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your cheek, wrapped up in his arms.

"i love you," you murmured.

"i love you too," he replied, holding you closer. his thumb brushed gently across your collarbone, a soft, reassuring touch that grounded you both. "but next time, remember this moment before you throw a fit, yeah?"

you smiled softly against his skin, already knowing you would.