prettygirlwrld

When We

Pair: Black male x Black female reader 

Song:

Warning: 18+ mdni, p in v, fingering

You had been staying to yourself after breaking up  with your ex, after giving 3 years of your life you just needed some time to yourself.  

But it was time to get back out there, a year of no flirting, no touching, no dates; just self dedication and upgrading. 

You’re ready to show off your hard work. 

Calling your bestie Yasmine, “hi honey, how you doin’”, you giddily greet her. 

“Hey boo, I’m good! You finally ready to come out your cave?”, she jested back. 

“I’m just playing girl, I’m happy to hear from you!”

“Yea, I just think it’s time to stop hiding”, you sigh. 

“That’s fine mama, you called just in time. It’s Mina’s birthday and we already goin’ out, so get REAL cute!”

“Yes ma’am, what time?”

“I’ll come get you 9 for the pregame at her house, then we can all go together.”

“Sounds like a plan babe, see you soon!”

______________________________________

Heat pressed against your skin the moment you stepped inside, thick with weed smoke and somebody’s vanilla perfume.

The haze over the dimly lit club 

Music blasting, as people swayed on the packed floor.

Your heels clicked as you and your friends sashayed through the packed club,  each step buzzing through your calves as your heartbeat synced with the bass

Basking in the thrill of the strange eye that lingered on you. 

Black mini dress hugging your curvy hips, push up bra giving you the perfect lift—displaying your cleavage. 

Strutting in your five inch heels, Yaz stopped short, and your shoulder bumped into her back.

Annoyed, you peeked over her shoulder—Mina was flirting with some dude who stopped her trying to get us in his section. 

Flipping your hair over your shoulder, scoping out the scene. 

Your eyes locked on him across the room—broad shoulders, relaxed stare—and your breath stuttered before you could hide it.

His gaze held yours.

Slow. Heavy. Curious.

Like he was peeling you apart in his mind.

You let go of Yaz’s hand, tapping her hip, “m’gonna run to the bar, you want something?”

“No, this nigga should be gettin’ us a bottle”, confusion lacing her statement. 

“Why you tryna run off?”, raising an eyebrow in protest.  

“I see sum I like”, you bite your lip. She tracks your eyes to the bar, where a fine man was staring you down like his last meal. 

“Oop, ok then!”, she sneers, shooing you off. 

You let your hips sway as you crossed the room, pretending not to notice the way his stare followed every step.

“How can I help you handsome?”, you ask.

His gaze dipped, lingered, then climbed back up slow.

“Nun darlin’, m’just enjoying the view”, his silky, deep southern accent luring you in. 

“You’re pretty easy on the eyes yourself handsome”, you purred back–gently caressing his arm with your manicured nails. 

He was literally gorgeous with a body carved from stone. 

His shirt clinging tight to his bulging arms, heavy thighs perfectly outlined in his jeans, topped off with a model-like face, and a smile to die for. 

_____________________________

Unlocking the heavy door to his apartment, holding it open for you to walk through. 

You take in his personal slice of heaven, it smelled of a deep woodsy teakwood and neatly decorated, you could feel the pulse in panties in your chest– turned on even more. 

Without looking back for him,  you reach back for his hand, hearing the slide of the lock on the door–taking your hand, you lead him back to his room. 

Crossing your legs so that your hips sway dangerously like waves in the ocean that he was ready to drown in. 

You follow the moon light peering through his floor-to-ceiling windows, pulling him in front of you and backing him towards the bed. 

Sitting him down and settling in his lap–finally capturing his lips in a kiss as his large hands roam  over your hips. 

You  moan from his warm contract on your skin–needing more of him, his touch, his warmth. 

His hands massage over your ass, then down the curves of your legs to slip your heels off. 

Kicking off his own shoes. 

You reach for the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head—putting his upper body on display. 

Marveling at his huge bulging arms, broad shoulders, and buff six pack. 

You knew he was big, but now he looks huge. 

Your mouth agape so long, you thought you drooled. 

He smirked as he watched you take him in, “you like what you see pretty?”

“Mmmhmm”, your body betrays you, as  your hips roll and you let out a low whimper. 

“Scoot back baby”, you whisper over his lips–lifting your hips for hims to slide through. 

Backing up towards the headboard, his lustful gaze never left you–crawling towards him on your hands and knees. 

Once his back hits the headboard you rise to your feet, slowly pulling your fitted dress over your head. 

Leaving you in your lace thong and bralette. He looked up at you like a seductive siren, waiting for you to take him. 

His hands caressed the back of your legs, up from your ankles, past the back of your knees, and over your ass to hook his fingers in your panties–slowly, but firmly pulling them down. 

Lowering down on your knees, he spread his legs as you settled in his lap–gredily pulling your hips towards his. As your hungry hands traced tight muscles, biting down on your bottom lip. 

“Damn mama, you need me this bad?” 

“Baby you can have whatever you want”, you pant out–kissing from his neck up behind his ear. 

Rolling his hips into yours, you feel him through his jeans–hard as a rock. 

His head dropped to your shoulder, “open up for me pretty”, he whispered on your neck. 

Leaning back to pull your feet forward you sat back on your hands, completely at his mercy. 

Wrapping his left arm around your hips to keep you close, a long drip of his spit settled right on your clit. 

An unsteady moan escapes, as his left hand unhooks your bra with ease—applying pressure on your button with his thumb.

Pulling you close enough to envelop your nipple, you gasp at the wet sensation–throwing your head back. 

He slips two fingers inside, your hips matching his rhythm, as he switches breasts to ensure he paid special attention to both. 

“Good girl…ride me baby”, he says, finding the sensitive spot that makes your hips stutter. 

“Harder please…”, you grind harder, hungry for more.

Laying open mouth kisses around your chest and breasts, he attacks the spongy spot on your inside you. 

Feeling that familiar coil tightening deep in your belly, you pull back—scared you’ll come cum too fast. 

“Uh uh mama, you said I can have whatever I wanted…don’t run from me now”, he whispers in your eye–pulling you closer and locking you in place. 

That’s when your coil snapped, so wet and filthy you could barely feel it. 

Your wetness drowning everything in reach. 

“Oh you’re a nasty girl, huh?”, fingering you through your orgasm–pulling a scream from deep in your throat. 

Lost in ecstasy, him kissing your collar bone snaps you back to reality. 

Legs still trembling from you high. 

He lifts you up slightly–pulling you towards his chest. 

Melting into his–breathing hard. Your body is damp with sweat, hair sticks to your face and neck. 

Eyes cloudy, trying to catch your breath–you hear the clicking of his belt. 

You refuse to let a man take your soul without a fight!

Lifting up on your knees, you undid his button and unzipped his jeans–annoyed with the theatrics of the job. 

“Why so impatient darlin’?”, a low chuckle rumbled from his chest–causing vibrations between your legs. 

“Stop teasing”, you pout–frustrated that your only desire in the world currently would be his dick filling you up. 

Pride swelling in his chest from your unbridled need for all of him at this moment.

Giving in with a small whine, you kiss on his neck and jaw–inhaling the scent of his musky aromatic cologne giving you a high that your brain is convinced only he can provide. 

You find his sweet spot–licking along his pulse point, leaving open mouth kisses around his ear, purring and moaning–as he fights tirelessly to get out of his jeans. 

“Fuck…”, he whispers–attempting to hid the low moan he let out just a second prior. 

Wriggling out of his pants and boxers in one fail swoop, your hips hovered–awaiting his thick tip to press your hot,wet entrance. 

Upon freeing himself, you feel it slap your butt—that makes you jump.

The thought of him ruining causes a pool of saliva you spit into your hand to stroke him–feeling his dick jump, warm veins pulsing in your hand–your spit mixing with the precum spilling from his tip. 

Both of you moan from the contact. 

Hot. Horny. Intense. 

Lining him up with your slit, his lust clouded eyes–still low from the liquor coursing through his system–watched in awe. 

You knew what you wanted–and you were gonna have him. 

Sliding down on his length, you moan from the stretch—head slumped in ecstasy, hair cascading over your shoulders. 

“Damn ma…you tight as hell”, he groaned, shutting his eyes tight. 

Smirking from the realization of the power you wield, you convince yourself that you’re a big girl—now having him at your mercy. 

You bounce rhythmically, only taking a couple inches–massing his tip inside your gummy walls. 

His hands instinctively grope your hips, kneading hard in your soft caramel skin. 

He knows you aren’t taking all of him–opening his eyes lowly to watch himself push your hips down to his pelvis–wathcing his dick disappear inside you, coming out dripped in your essence. 

“Nah baby, you gotta take it all”, loving the pornographic scene displayed in front of him. 

“Oh my…”, you gasp, “you’re so big!”, you squeal–feeling his firm grip direct your body up and down like it was a game he never wanted to stop playing. 

“This what you wanted right”, he pants out, “look at that shit… look at that shit”, he says through moans. 

“Yessssss…”, your breath shaky. 

You bounced harder–sounds of your heavy ass slapping down in his pelvis–earned a dirty as he was backing with everything in him. 

“Keep goin’ baby…don’t stop”, he praised–your ego thriving on his every word.

His large hands running up your sides–cupping your breast again. 

Attempting to distract him from the explosion coiling in his abdomen. 

“Show out then ma…gimme that motherfucka’”, he pumps from underneath you–hitting a spot that made your eyes roll and your hips stutter. 

Whining out, he pulls you to his chest–large arms locking you into him as he drilled into your pussy. 

“Let it all out pretty girl…I’m right behind you”, he groans out. 

Your moans right in his ear—fueling him to go harder. 

Pulling a scream from deep in your soul, as spilling inside you as he stroked you through your orgasm. 

Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy

On a hot fall day in Georgia, your friend talks you into going to this trail ride in Sparta. As a friendly socialite, you learn that if “you wear the hat, you ride the cowboy”. When the bandanna he let you tie your braids with ends up around your wrists.

Handle Me

He’s very loving and takes such good care of you , but sometimes you wish he’d just take you possessively—it’s not like you aren’t already his.

Rainy Days

18+ MDNI

SN: This was a quick something in my head, enjoy!

Your man was always taking such good care of you; getting you flowers every Sunday, gassing up your car at half a tank, and rubbing your feet after a long day. He did everything without asking, before you could even think, and you wouldn’t dare try to stop him—but tonight you wanted to show him your appreciation.

After heavy persuasion you convinced him to let you tie his wrists behind his back in a chair—which he was very skeptical of as he is a very handsome man who prefers control.

Your hair already pulled up into a neat ponytail as you secured the tie around your visibly impatient boyfriend’s wrists, as he waits impatiently-awaiting your next move.

You drag your hands across his chest as you stand behind him—leaning down to lick his ear and whispering “you work so hard for me baby, mama just wants to take care of you”—gently wrapping your fingers around his neck.

His head fell back as he moaned your name. You love seeing him like this—vulnerable and all yours.

He watched you intensely through the candle light as you sashayed from behind him in your black matching bra and panty set—licking then biting his bottom lip as he scanned over your curves.

You tilted his head up towards you; diverting his attention from your breasts. “You my baby?”, you questioned—running your thumb over his full bottom lip.

“I’m all yours ma”, he smirked with those low eyes that could make you get on your knees to worship his body.

And that’s exactly what you did, kissing from his lips, along his jaw, paying extra attention to the sweet spot behind his ear, licking down his neck; as you grip and rub his thighs in lines, inching closer to his cock.

He impatiently bucks towards you. He hates it when you tease him, but it would be worth it tonight.

“Baby, stop teasing me”, mustering all the bass in his chest he could find.

Plastering a grin on your face as he was losing his cool and quickly.

“You gone be a good boy?”, you quipped—lowering to your knees—he nods eagerly.

“You can’t talk darling?”, you ask tugging at his shorts.

“Y..yes”, he breathes out. “I’ll be good, I promise.”

“Yes who baby?”, you asked looking up at him through your lashes as his shorts pooled at his feet, leaving him bulging and standing at attention.

“Yes ma’am!”, he practically cried.

You slowly lick around his pulsing tip, mixing his precum and your saliva—pulling back just enough to spit over his shaft, which tickled down to his balls.

“Fuckkkk”, he groaned as you took as much of him as you could, using your hands to work the rest.

You know all his favor it tricks: sucking in your cheeks and sticking your tongue out as you talk him deep, licking back up to the tip looking him in his eyes.

“Oh my go…”, his toes curling.

“Relax, mama got you.”

He was close, bucking his hips to push deeper in your throat—causing you to moan around him.

Stretching your left hand down into your panties to rub yourself.

Stroking faster with your tongue out, slapping his tip on your tongue—ushering his nut into your mouth as he groaned your name so loud you’re sure the neighbors heard.

His body relaxes, head thrown forward like he was out of it.

Standing up, you quickly remove your set—giving him a quick break. You massage his shoulder, making him look up at you.

With tired eyes he scoots forward and spreads his legs, like he already knows what’s to come.

But instead of straddling him head on, you turn around-arching a little to angle yourself down on him—making his eyes go big.

Pushing his legs in with yours, you put your hands on his knees slowly grinding back and forth, the. bouncing up and down.

“You feel so good baby”, you moan getting lost in his bucking against your bounce.

But tonight wasn’t about you—leaning over his legs, stretching your hands to the floor you bounced harder making your ass jiggle on his pelvis.

He was gone and you were gonna make sure this one was harder than the last.

Picking up your left and moistening it with your spit, you massaging his balls as you ride it in circles.

“I’m so proud of you baby”, you coax him as his legs being to shake, “make me prouder and cum for me”

Moaning “yes ma’am”, you feel him twitching inside you. Making you go harder, slammin down harder.

“I’m cumin’”, he mutters and his eyes roll back.

That doesn’t stop you, grinding until he cries “ma I can’t take no more!”

Pulling off of him earned a whimper that filled your chest with pride.

Breathing heavy, he mutters “get these off of me”.

You straddle him, sitting on his half-hard piece—making him whine on contact.

You reach behind up, pulling on knot to untie him, “uh uh baby you’re getting on your back, mama hasn’t cum yet.”

He eagerly lays out on his back, arms on his sides motioning you to come to him. You slowly crawl up his body—running your nails up his thighs and kissing up his chest—his body shivered still sensitive from his first two orgasms.

Settling on his face,he pulls you right down on his tongue making your eyes roll—your body was so wound up from pleasing him that you melted on impact.

Grinding on his face harder for more friction. He catches your rhythm— massaging your butt and hips, occasionally squeezing and slapping it.

You were a cussing up a storm, lost in ecstasy when he pushed your hips up, arching you right over his face licking circles over your pearl.

He slipped his right index and middle fingers in knuckles deep and stroking himself with his left hand—making you scream into the pillow you as you came hard and he was right behind you.

Whimpering sweet nothings in your heat as he lapped up your juices.

Pulling you down onto his chest, you whisper “thank you papa, i appreciate you taking care of me”.

Push It

Pair: Black male x Black female reader 

Genre: established relationship, black romance,  smut

Warning: 18+, strong language, power dynamics, dirty talk, breathplay, rough, praise k!nk, fingering, creamie, overstimulation, etc. 

Summary: You snuck out of bed to make breakfast. He woke up hungry — just not for food.

A little teasing turns into a full-body reminder of who you belong to. Kitchen counter. Over the arm of the couch. On the couch. Again. And again.

You snuck out of the bed, brushing your teeth and rushing through your skincare routine so that you don’t wake him. 

As you were scrambling eggs—your sausage and biscuits almost done in the oven when you could feel him creeping up on you—heavy feet passing the ground carefully, as if he wanted you to know he’s coming. 

He kissed your shoulder gently, sending a shiver up your spine aching for his touch. “Mornin’ “ he said, voice deep with sleep dripping like honey that sweetened what was already stirring between your legs. 

“Mornin’ darlin’ “ you said just above a whisper. A silent moment passed of his front flushed against your back, large frame wrapped around your waist, head buried in your neck, engulfing you in an embrace that you never wanted to leave. 

“ Ion appreciate waking up in the bed without you in it”, his breath hot against your neck. 

“ I…I figured you’d be hungry”, you breathed. 

“I got sum I can eat right here”, he kissed on your neck. 

You giggled lightly, trying to disguise the heat rising under your skin, as he squeezed your waist. 

“Baby I’m almost done, just give me a min”, he groaned in your neck—placing a kiss just below your chin. 

“Ight” he said slowly pulling away, walking back into the room. You immediately missed the warmth of his body on your back.

Quickly finishing everything & turning the stove off. You made y’alls plate, bending over to properly organize the dishes in the dishwasher.

He walked up grabbing your hips pulling them to his pelvis, laying a snack on your ass as you gasped—taken aback & aroused.

You popped his hand, “you needa stop playing!!” you shouted playfully.

He caught you by your waist, pulling you into his chest. 

“Uh uh, that’s my get back for sneakin’ out the bed.”

“I didn’t sneak anywhere”, you said matter of factly. 

Towering over you he slid his right hand up from your hip up to the small of your back, sending a shiver up your spine that you hadn’t realized manifested physically—causing you to flinch in his grip. 

“Mhm you must be sensitive from last night”, he chuckles darkly. 

You stiffened, feeling the pounding pulse between your legs. 

“You flinchin’ every time a nigga touch you, like you scared or sum”, displaying that devilish grin that melted the fake attitude your put on. 

“Boy move, I ain’t scared of no one but God”, you said hurriedly busying yourself around the kitchen to distract yourself. 

His eyes tracked you from the sink to the fridge, you couldn’t take it anymore. “The fuck are your starin’ at?”, you said like he was aggravating your last nerve—he was truly disturbing the peace in your nervous system, your body betraying you under his gaze. 

You always loved the way he looked at you, with such love and desire, like he needed you in his veins. 

But this wasn’t that. 

This was darker, you managed to take a lighthearted moment and push him too far. 

Despite the pitbull like, stoic, handsome face he was blessed with, he was very respectful and kind. 

Therefore he didn’t take disrespect well, from anybody—especially his bratty younger girlfriend who just swore she knew everything. 

“The fuck did you just say to me”, he stated—clearly not a question. 

He knew that look in your eyes as you tried to conceal the smirk pulling at your thick lips—that he would surely stuff if you kept this up. 

“And befo’ you answa that, just remember you already owe me darlin’ “, he said lowly as he backed you into the counter. 

He felt bigger—biceps cornering you, jaw tight, deep brown eyes daring you to test him. 

“Ya’ mama ain’t ever told you its rude to stare?”, you said—looking dead in those dark alluring orbs. 

Because he was a couple years older he often tried to play you like a lil girl, but he wouldn’t be with you if that were true. 

His head fell as he laughed sarcastically—I’m finna fuck this girl up—forcfully putting you on the counter and encapsulating your lips in a passionate kiss. 

You fought the urge to open your hips—not fully accepting him and he knew it. 

He pulled back, licking his lips before peppering kisses across you jawline and down your neck. “Open up for me pretty”, massaging lazy circles on your thighs making their way up his extra large shirt that you had slept in. 

His touch ignited a fire in you that you couldn’t contain.  He was so gentle, applying the perfect amount of pressure in all the right places. 

You opened your legs—exposing your bare heat. 

Slick with your juices, you could no longer hide your yearning for him and his love. 

Pulling his shirt over your head, he pulled you flush to him with his hand gently wrapped around your neck—chest to chest with just his basketball shorts standing between you and euphoria. 

You wrapped your arms around his neck, arching into him, wanting more of him. 

“Always runnin’ that damn mouth”, he said on your lips and his right hand began rubbing circles on the button that he knows will set you off. 

HIs left arm holding you in place, hips spread wide across his—completely at his mercy, which is exactly where he wanted you. 

“The fuck am I starin’ at?”, he chuckled darkly, befuddled how you could ever let that come out of your mouth. 

“That was cute, but I always get what I’m owed”, applying enough pressure to make your eyes roll. 

He watched intently as you ground your hips in rhythm with his hand—aching for more. 

He finally dipped his middle and ring fingers in knuckle deep, “you feel that? that’s me collecting on every slick comment you made”, curling up into that spot that made you scream his name. All while his thumb applies steady pressure to your pearl. 

Gripping his bicep as your man coaxed you into the first of what you feared would be many orgasms today—you wrapped your legs around his waist pulling him in close to prevent his hand from diving in your heat at such a splintering pace. 

Biting onto his shoulder to hide your moans.

“Uh uh, don’t hide now…I wanna hear it”, feeling your walls squeezing his digits.

“Ohhhh my…fuckkkk’, you dragged. 

“Mhm, look at you making a mess”, he smirked, capturing your lips again—you were moaning right in his mouth as his tongue explored on its own. 

“Tell me when you wanna cum ”

“Baby I-“, he hummed on your lips as you stumbled over your words. 

“I got you baby, give it to me”, scratching at his arms you screamed coming undone on his hand—unrelentingly penetrating you through your high. 

You were still trembling when he lifted you off the counter, your bare thighs clinging to his torso like a second skin.

His lips found your neck again as he carried you effortlessly through the apartment, your head buried in his shoulder, legs wrapped around his waist.

He didn’t say a word.

He didn’t have to.

The way he moved said everything—this wasn’t over.

Not even close.

He tossed you down over the arm of the couch like a prize he’d already won, your body folding just the way he liked.

You barely had time to catch your breath before he yanked your hips back. 

You waited in anticipation as he quickly came out of his shorts,  positioning you where he wanted—where you needed to be.

He rubbed along your rear, hips, and lower back—rubbing his full length against your heat, smearing your slick all around your core, teasing you in the worst way. 

You pushed back on him—hornily trying to get him deep in your folds. 

"Who you belong to?”, he asked laying a hard smack to your ass—barely pushing in with his mushroom tip. 

You gasped, barely able to respond through your shallow breath.

"I'm yours”, you barely breathed out.

“Say it again”, slowly stretching you out.

“I’m yours, baby… all yours."

A guttural groan rumbled through his chest as you rammed his full length in you.

"Mmm, this my shit."

He gripped your hips tighter, his pace punishing—demanding every last ounce of submission from you.

"Give it to me or I'ma fuck it outta you."

The slap of skin echoed through the room, in rhythm with your whimpers and his ragged breath.

You were desperate now—reaching for anything to stabilize yourself: the cushions, a pillow, his forearm, your own damn breath—but he gave you no room to breathe, no room to think.

“Allat shit talkin’, and here you are… beggin’ me to ruin you.”

His hand found your throat again, not to choke but to own—like a leash holding you right on the edge.

You cried out, face pressed into the couch, feeling him hit that devastating spot over and over.

Your moans weren’t just loud—they were pleas, pulled from the very center of your being.

You collapsed forward, boneless, breathless, but he wasn’t done—not even close.

He flipped you like you weighed nothing, placing you flat on your back across the length of the couch, pulling your hips back into his.

He kissed your temple gently—too gently for what was coming next.

“Where you want it ma?”

“In me…fuck baby I want it”, biting his lip he tilted your chin up to look in your eyes. 

“Y/N don’t say that”—ragged breaths, sloppy strokes, he was slowly losing his control. 

“You can’t say that…I’ll fill your ass up”, kissing up his jaw to his ear, you whispered, “cum in your pussy daddy”. 

You felt him twitch inside you—giving in he laid his full weight on you, snaking his hands around your waist to hug you in close—laying his head on your shoulder. 

Dragging your nails up across his broad shoulders and up his back, left hand massing the nape of his neck, right hand steadying yourself against his unforgiving strokes. 

He could feel you pushing on his shoulder—attempting to create some space so you could take advantage of him being silly putty in your hands. 

He pulled your hips up into his, as his pelvis was attacking yours—causing tears to well up in your eyes from his tip kissing your spot. 

“Ain’t no runnin’ from me pretty girl”, he moaned low and deep.

“You stuck with me and I ain’t goin’ nowhere”, he said lovingly in your ear making your cry his name. 

You arched into him—trying to find relieve some of the pressure in the pit of your stomach— his palm pressed you flat so you could feel all of him. 

“Fuck ma, you so damn wet…this pretty pussy was made just for me”, you couldn’t hear anything anymore, incapable of stringing words together even if you could. 

He leaned back, looking down on your fucked out expression—quickly closing his eyes to keep from releasing in that moment. 

“Look at me baby”, you opened your eyes low to see him basically drooling over your full breast.

Spitting right on your nipple, rolling it in his fingers, and watching your face contort as he took over your body—making sure this last nut was the one that knocked all the air out your lungs. 

You put your hand on his belly, “daddy…I…I can’t take it”, you breathed out barely above a whisper. 

“You so close mama, I can feel it”, he said slapping your breast with just enough force to send you into pure ecstasy. 

“And I’m right behind you pretty”, he said. 

You could feel his muscles tighten up, signaling he was close.

“Give it to me daddy, fuck…I can take it”, he whimpered—releasing his desire for control, chasing his own pleasure. 

“I…I’m about to…”, you cried in a sea of curses and repeatedly moaning his name. 

Your vision blurred, your mind lost to nothing but the sound of him moaning your name like a sacred vow.

“Cum for me baby.”

That was it.

You let go. Completely.

Your back arched violently, mouth opened in a silent scream as your orgasm hit like a freight train.

He groaned into your skin, hips stuttering as he spilled into you, clutching you close like he’d die if he let go.

You didn’t even realize you’d fallen asleep until you felt him shifting beneath you, his deep chuckle vibrating against your cheek still pressed to his chest.

The warmth between your legs ached in the sweetest way—day two of soreness, courtesy of him and his inability to behave.

But you weren’t mad. Not even close.

Your body was limp, spent, flushed and folded over his lap just where he’d left you.

He never even made it off the couch.

The plates were still in the kitchen—right where you’d left them.

The biscuits? Probably cold.

The eggs? Forgotten.

The only thing that got served this morning was you, and judging by the way you couldn’t even lift your head, he’d cleaned his plate.

“Mmhm. Look atchu,” he said softly, chuckling again as he gently cleaned you up with a warm towel he must’ve grabbed at some point—because God knows you didn’t feel him move.

You winced as he dabbed between your legs, making another little sound that made him smirk.

“Sore again?” he teased, that cocky grin painted across his face.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you mumbled, too weak to lie convincingly.

He knew better. You both knew better.

He kissed your forehead, sliding his oversized shirt back over your shoulders and pulling it down gently, careful not to wake the little moan you were fighting in your throat.

Then he threw on his basketball shorts again, sat back down, and pulled you into his lap like you weighed nothing.

Blanket thrown lazily over your bodies, he balanced the plate of food on one knee, the remote in the other hand.

Your body in between.

You curled against him, eyes fluttering closed again, not a single care in the world. Bills? Work? Life? Whatever.

Right now all that mattered was the way he held you like you were the most important thing in the room—because to him, you were.

“You gon’ eat?” he asked, offering a fork of your cold eggs near your lips.

You turned your head and smiled lazily into his chest. “Mm-mm. Already full.”

He laughed again, kissing your temple.

Don’t Let Go

Pair: Black male x Black female reader 

Genre: Friends to lovers, smut

Songs: Don’t Let Go - En Vogue Speechless - Beyonce

Warning: 18+

Summary: After a grueling semester in law school, you reconnect with your  longtime friend Maceon, who invites you to escape city life and recharge in the quiet of the country. What begins as a much-needed break turns intimate as years of unspoken tension finally erupt, leading to a powerful, emotional, and physical connection that neither of you can deny.

PART 2

Mace kissed you again, slower this time, his hand sliding down your back to rest on your hip. 

“C’mon,” he murmured against your lips, lacing his fingers with yours.

You followed him upstairs, heart pounding like it was trying to outrun your body.

He pushed the bathroom door open and gently guided you inside, glancing down the hallway one last time before clicking the lock with a deliberate flick of his wrist. His red, low eyes never left you.

You bit your lip—curious, buzzing. Mace had always been calm and calculated, but this wasn’t that. This was quiet urgency. A steady kind of hunger.

He was in front of you again, crowding your space without making you feel small.

Then he stepped in close, hands finding your waist like he’d done it a thousand times in his head. 

He lifted you onto the sink, your knees parting to let him stand between them. 

The marble counter was cool under your thighs, but his body radiated heat.

“You really didn’t know?” he asked, voice low like a secret.

“Know what?”

He tilted his head slightly, grabbing you by the chin to look in your eyes.  “That I been wantin’ you.”

You shrugged, studying his face. “You always playin’ around, how was I suppose’ to know”

He let out a quiet laugh, more breath than sound. “That’s where ya’ wrong, babygirl.”

He looked at you deep in your eyes–holding your gaze like it anchored him. “Been waitin’ on you to see it.”

And when your lips met again, it wasn’t playful. It was real—hungry, honest, like time had finally caught up to the both of you.

Time slowed–it was like years collapsed into that one kiss. 

His mouth moved with purpose, his hands sliding up your shirt with quiet worship. He kissed up your neck, past your sweet spot, to your ear.

You threw your head back giving him full access. 

“You so pretty,” he breathed, pulling the shirt over your head like it was sacred. 

You bit your lip to suppress a moan, the sting of it sharp, sweet. His hands moved like he was learning every curve from scratch.

“I love your body… it’s perfect,” he whispered, his lips warm on the skin above your lace bra.

You were dripping, grinding against his hard print poking through his jeans. You could feel him, thick and twitching, just barely held back.

“I need you,” you gasped into his mouth.

He moaned in response, tongues tangling—moving together in a messy, gorgeous rhythm. Y’all grinded against the mirror, the glass trembling in protest. Neither of you cared.

But then—

The sharp slam of the screen door downstairs.

You froze. Both of you did, breath caught mid-kiss. The sound of voices floated up, snapping you back to earth.

The moment was broken… but not gone.

The rest of the evening passed in charged glances and subtle touches, like you were both tracking each other. 

Every brush of your arm against his, every second of eye contact across the yard, only stoked the fire.

Some of his family members had noticed, but none spoke a word–just exchanging curious looks and occasionally giggling. 

But we never noticed. 

As the night’s end came, you made sure to thank Mace’s grandparents and try to tell everyone ‘goodbye’ and thank them for their kindness before your departure. 

“Gone so soon, pretty girl?” his grandpa asked. 

Mace stalked nearby, nonchalant as usual–but his focus was clear. 

“Yes sir, I have to go back to work and prepare for next semester”, you laughed a little at his notion. 

“Well don’t be a stranger!”, his grandma exclaimed. “Yes ma’am” you nodded, walking to his car with him hot on your tail. 

He opened your door for your–as the true southern gentleman he is. 

In the car on the ride home, it was nearly unbearable. 

His hand rested on your thigh, thumb circling slow, lazy patterns on your skin while he kept his eyes on the road. 

En Vogue’s Don’t Let Go played low in the background. 

Adding fuel to an already well lit fire between your legs that you never wanted to extinguish. 

You clenched around nothing, thighs shifting restlessly.

When he pulled into the driveway and y’all made it inside, you didn’t even make it to the bedroom.

Once you stepped through the door he had you pinned to it.

Grabbing you gently, yet firm, by the neck making your look at him. 

You gave him the green light without uttering a word.

Mace kissed you hard, urgent, as you wrapped your legs around his waist, thighs clenching around him like you needed to pull him into your bloodstream.

You kissed him hard as he carried you to the bedroom, taking advantage of his focus on quickly  getting you to the bed. 

Kissing from his jaw to his neck, you breathed in his ear  “take my clothes off”. 

His eyes rolled as he growled in response, determined to make you his. 

You moaned in his mouth as his hands as he laid you down—fervently stripping you.

He stood over you for a minute, admiring your body laid out before him. 

He pulled his shirt over his head, crawling on top of you, pushing your legs to your chest so he hovered over you–gold chain dangling in your face as he lowered his lips to yours. 

Yearning to be against your skin. 

Excited, you met his lips–kissing him forcefully as you wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him closer. 

He pulled away just slightly, dragging his tongue down your neck. Snaking his right hand behind your back to unhook your bra. 

You were trapped under his weight as his hands held you in place–folded like a lawn chair. 

He focused his attention on your breasts–nipples poking out like headlights. 

Swirling the left one in his mouth, ensuring not to neglect the right as he rubbed and tugged gently–earning 

Lost in ecstasy–he snuck his left hand past the edge of your panties to your heat. 

“Mace–”, you panted. 

“Tell daddy what you want me to do”, he said, picking his head up to look at you. 

Eyes closed, mouth slightly ajar–he chuckled darkly at his affect on you. 

“Use your words darlin’ ”, rubbing lazy circles around your clit. 

“Fuck me, baby please”, you begged. 

“Ya’ ain’t gotta ask me twice sweetheart”, making his way back to your lips. 

You both pulled at the buckle on his pants, fighting to get them off as quickly as possible. 

Once he was free, he tapped himself on your clit–still teasing your already hot body.  

A guttural moan came from deep within your throat. 

When he finally pushed in, he gasped—head falling to your shoulder, hands digging into your hips.

“Shit—you wet as fuck.”

You smirked, tugging him closer by the back of his neck until your lips brushed his ear. 

“I know.”, you whispered. 

He tucked his hands beneath your thighs, lifting you slightly, adjusting the angle until he slid even deeper.

Your head fell back as he found your spot and stayed there, grinding into you like he was made to.

“Oh—fuck,” you gasped. “It’s so deep.”, you moaned, nails scraping down his back.

“I know,” he smiled cockily, voice thick as his lips crashed into yours.

You moaned in his mouth, taking all of him as best you could. 

But you were gonna cum any second–so you put your hands on his shoulders trying to relieve some pressure. 

“Don’t run now love, you takin’ it so good”, he said as he wrapped his right arm in the small of your back, grinding his hips right into yours. 

His praises poured over your skin like molasses.

“You so fuckin’ fine”, stroking steadily as your eyes rolled back. 

“Look at me babygirl, I wanna see them pretty eyes”, you struggled but you lazily looked up at him. 

“Good girl”, he smirked, hitting just a little harder. 

“You mine tonight, right?”

You didn’t answer—not out loud.

You just pulled him in harder, deeper, lips pressed to his like they were made to live there.

You already knew the answer.

And so did he.

“Mace please…oh my God I’m so close”, crying his name from the slight pain and pleasure.

He laces his left hand with yours, “this what you wanted right?” he said in between strokes. 

You nodded, “uh uh, use your words mama”, he said, slowing his pace. 

He could feel you squeezing him—signaling that you were close. 

“Yes”, you practically screamed. Yearning for him to pick his pace back up.

Instead he was kissing your neck, “I hear ya’ mama”, almost fully pulling out. 

“I gotchu love”, he whispered in my ear as he plunged back in deep–putting me in a trance. 

“Cum fa me”, was all you heard before your body was rock with an earth shattering orgasm. 

But he didn’t stop–riding your orgasm out until you saw stars. 

You clawed at his back, practically shouting from the rooftops. 

You could feel his body tensing, strokes getting sloppy, eyes shut tight–you knew he was close. 

You lifted his chin, making him look in your eyes, as you whispered “give it to me”. 

His head dropped to your shoulder as he groaned, pulling out just quick enough to nut on your stomach. *we do not condone children round these parts, lol*

He collapsed on your, both panting and breathing hard. Just living in the moment y’all had just had. 

Y’all laid there tangled up in each other, your body still twitching with aftershocks.

Mace let out a deep sigh and dragged a hand across his deep waves, glancing at you with a dazed grin.

“Damn… I really showed out, huh?”

You gave him a sleepy smirk. “Boy, if I could move, I’d slap you.”

He chuckled, tugging you closer. “Good thing you can’t.”

You nestled into his side, already feeling yourself drift.

“Shut up before I ask for round two.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time.”

Don’t Let Go

Pair: Black male x Black female reader 

Genre: Friends to lovers, slow burn, fluff

Songs:

Warning: 18+

Summary: After a grueling year in law school, you reconnect with your  longtime friend Maceon, who invites you to escape city life and recharge in the quiet of the country. What begins as a much-needed break turns intimate as years of unspoken tension finally erupt, leading to a powerful, emotional, and physical connection that neither of you can deny. 

PART 1

Life is just too much sometimes—rent due soon, school is tiring, work is draining, car needs gas—it's as if it never stops. It was everything I ever asked for—L1 at Emory School of Law, working as an associate for Burns & Alexander, a top criminal defense firm, and a support system unlike any other—so I honestly can’t complain.

But sometimes, when you’re living the dream you don’t think to actually live and savor the blessings that you prayed for. 

“Y/N” Mr. Burns snapped me out of your dizzy haze.

“Go home, you clearly need some rest” he stated clearly, not looking up from the papers in his hand “I need you at your prime, not dozing off” he followed-up as he walked off.

Pushing your hair out of your face, you accepted defeat—you were truly exhausted with another final coming up—and gathered your things.

On your way to your car your phone rang, not looking just picking up, “Hello this is Y/N”, “Damn guh, you got that code switching thing down” said with a snicker–without looking at the contact you knew it was your goofy ass homeboy from college, Maceon.

You met Mace as a freshman at Alabama State University–y’alls roommates were friends and we all became this crew. As all freshman year friend groups, we fell out, but he stuck to your hip like grits. And you didn’t mind,  he was funny and easy to talk to.

“Boy why you call me playin’ on my phone” you staled in response, putting your car in reverse and pulling out of the parking lot.

“Answer my facetime” he said, straight ignoring your question.

Popping the phone in the car holder, you answered. There he was–sweaty, in a white tank top, dirty jeans, and a freshly opened corona.

You focused on the road ahead, merging onto the highway, “well you clean up mighty nice Michellel Obama” he jeered.

You rolled your eyes with a slight smile. This boy is so unserious, you thought.

“What do you want, Maceon?” you asked, using his full name.

He smiled, taking a sip of his beer. “Why you look like that?” he asked, again ignoring your question.

“Like what?” you retorted, looking at him as traffic slowed to a stand still. 

“Like Lady Life whoopin’ your ass” he said chuckling.

“Boy fuck you, I work my ass off. God forbid a girl need a break!” you said jokingly with a huge smile, trying to hide your true exhaustion.

“You need to get out the city. When’s your next break?” he asked, sitting up, eyes locked on you through the phone.

“I take my last final tomorrow, then I’m done for the semester, but I gotta work” you said redirecting your attention to the road, hoping he’d just let it go.

Of course not—this is Mace.

“Fuck allat, come out here for a couple days—take a load off, get some fresh air, ground yourself wit nature n shit or whatever they be saying” he said rolling a blunt. 

That’s how it all started, you were quite the pothead in undergrad and that’s a big reason y’all stayed so close. 

Random late-night smoke sessions, finding little hideouts around campus or parks in Montgomery—it didn’t matter where. Y’all would always lose track of time, talking about everything under the sun.

You could always count on each other—whether to vent or drop random facts.

“I can’t just up and leave Mace”, you sighed. 

“You act like the world gon’ fall apart if you disappear for three days,” Mace said, turning his face up, voice low, but steady through the phone. 

“Y/N, you always ‘on.’ School, work, court, life—girl, you barely breathe. You say you can’t just up and leave, but maybe that’s exactly why you need to. You done poured into everybody else, now you runnin’ on fumes and still tryna sprint. Nah. Come out here. Ain’t nobody askin’ you to go ghost, just… pause. Get out the noise. Let some wind hit your face that ain’t comin’ from a courtroom door slammin’. Ground yourself again. The grind gon’ be there when you get back—but you won’t enjoy none of it if you burn out before the bar exam.” 

“Ok ok” you said slightly embarrassed, “I got it. When can I come?”, you asked looking down at the pandora bracelet on your wrist. 

“Bring ya’ big head ass this weekend” he grinned, rubbing his hands together. “That way ya’ ass can’t chicken out.”

“Nigga fuck you!” you taunted shaking your head in the camera with a smile and flipping him off.

“Yea whateva, you heard me” he laughed back. 

“Aight I’m finna go take this nap before class” you chuckled pulling off the highway, looking back at the phone. 

You hadn’t noticed him leaning forward on his forearms, tanned and more muscular than you remembered, his full attention on you.

“Ight, I’ma send you the address. Let me know when you on the road.”

“I neva agreed to–” 

“Do it sound like I’m playin’ wit you guh?” he cut you off. 

“Go take ya’ nap, bookie” he waived with a sarcastic smile, hanging up in your face.

The next day felt like the last mile of a marathon—finals, cleared. Mr. Burns gave me the day off for "extra rest". Energy? Shot.

You didn’t even have the strength to text Mace back, you just threw your duffle bag of random outfits in the backseat of your Volkswagen Jetta and started driving.

Three hours of country roads, gas station snacks, and massive cotton fields later, you finally pulled into a long, cracked driveway, leading to a cozy country home with a wraparound porch at the front.

He was waiting on the porch—black Nike slides, grey sweatpants, shirtless, durag—grinning with a half-smoked blunt hanging from his lips.

“You look like you just got drafted for the Hunger Games,” you said as you stepped out, stretching your arms above your head.

“And you look like you need a week of sleep and two shots of tequila,” he quipped, hopping off the porch. “Why I had to track you like a hound?” he said, trapping you against the car. 

"You got my location. If you was lookin' fa me, you coulda found me" you shrugged. 

"Yea, but I specifically told ya' to text me" he said looking down at you with those almost hazel brown eyes. 

Taking in his unusually large frame–standing at six feet, tanned a burnt caramel color, tatted chest and arms–his woody cologne mixed with the smell of smoke intoxicated your nostrils. 

A familiar scent you didn’t know you’d missed. 

You put your hand in his chest creating some space, "I'm grown as the fuck, and last I checked I only got one daddy" you rolled your eyes opening the back door to get your bag. 

You could feel his eyes tracking you as he leaned on the door behind you–assuredly staring at your ass. 

You blushed a little from his protective actions. You could never figure out if he was your over protective brother or boyfriend. He never explicitly expressed interest, so you always brushed it off.  

The next day in Decatur didn’t feel real—time moved like molasses, sweet and slow, stretching out between deep breaths and long stares. 

You didn’t do much of anything except trail behind Mace like a shadow, watching how he moved through his world with quiet command. 

He showed you how his family’s farm operated—where the goats liked to hide when it was hot, how to check a horse’s hooves without getting kicked, and which of the barn dogs would follow you for snacks and not loyalty.

You watched as he lifted bales of hay and fixed little things–from machinery to fences. 

Mace wouldn’t accept any help, he just wanted to make sure you were getting the break he felt you’d earned. 

“You hea’ to rest, not to prove nun,” he said one morning, brushing sawdust off your shoulder. 

So you rested. 

You followed him around in his slides, sipping sweet tea from a mason jar, letting the thick southern air loosen the knots in your chest.

By Saturday evening, the sun was sliding down behind the trees and the whole family was posted up at his grandma’s house. 

You could hear laughter and the clatter of pots through the open kitchen window. 

Inside, the grown folks were loud—arguing over dominoes and who made the best potato salad. 

But outside, on the back patio, the young crew had taken over. 

A cooler of beer sat in the corner, kids ran wild through the yard with two hyper mutts on their heels, and the sky was that perfect mix of lavender and gold.

You were tucked into one of the lawn chairs, half-listening to a debate about who could really cook and who just posted cute plates on Instagram, when the conversation shifted—like it always does—to relationships.

“I’m just sayin’,” one of Mace’s cousins, a sharp-tongued girl with box braids and curly lashes, leaned in, “niggas love to lie and say they don’t got a type.”

“Facts,” another cousin added, grabbing a beer. 

“They always say that until they get caught up with three girls that look just alike.”

“Bullshit” on of the larger male cousins muttered. 

You sipped slow, letting the moment stretch before chiming in, “Shit, you got an example right in front of you”, you nodded towards Mace.

That made a few heads turn—Mace raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah?” his messy cousin instigated, cheshire grin, amused.

You didn’t flinch. Just shrugged, calm and casual. “Mmhmm. Skinny, brown-skinned girls with curly fros or starter locs. The ‘earthy baddie’ starter pack. And don’t even try to deny it.”

The group erupted in laughter.

You weren’t mad though. You said it matter-of-fact, like someone pointing out the weather. 

You knew who you were—soft, thick, fairer-skinned, laid edges and a fresh sew-in. You weren’t his usual, and you were okay with that.

But he looked at you longer than necessary, brows furrowed just slightly—like he was trying to figure something out.

That’s when one of his older cousins, slick and always ready with the roast, grinned and added, “Man, Mace used to date them white girls heavy back at Central. He prolly still don’t know what to do wit nun homegrown.”

More laughter. Louder this time.

Mace just smirked and sipped his beer, never taking his eyes off you.

And somehow, in that moment, you knew—whatever his type was, he hadn’t stopped watching you since you got there.

Later that night, Mace and his older cousins manned the grill like it was tradition. 

Smoke curled into the night sky, mixing with laughter, music, and the scent of charcoal and spice. 

The yard buzzed—people eating off paper plates, kids passing out from too much running, couples slow dancing barefoot in the grass. It was one of those scenes that felt too perfect to be real.

You slipped inside for a break, the hum of the box fan in the window offering a little reprieve from the heat and the noise. 

The kitchen was dimly lit, quiet. 

You opened the fridge, grabbed a water, and leaned against the counter, trying to cool off.

Then you heard the screen door creak behind you.

Mace.

You didn’t have to look. You felt him.

The air changed when he walked in—got thick, like it was holding its breath.

He didn’t say anything at first. 

Just walked past you, slow, to grab a beer from the fridge. 

But you could feel his eyes tracing you. Taking inventory.

“You good?” he finally asked, low and easy.

“Mmhmm.” You nodded, not trusting your voice.

He closed the fridge, leaned against it, and looked you up and down like he was trying to read something off your skin.

“You thought I wasn’t attracted to you?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper. 

You turned your head toward him, heart thudding in your chest. “I thought you were playin’.”

He pushed off the fridge, slow, deliberate, like a decision had finally been made. He walked up behind you, close enough that his body heat wrapped around you.

He shook his head, lips grazing your shoulder. “That was your problem this whole time?”

His hands were warm when they found your waist, and you let him. Let the silence bloom around you, thick with everything unsaid.

“I don’t assume shit, Mace,” you said quietly, looking down at your hands, unsure of what to do with them.

He didn’t rush.

He didn’t speak.

He just slipped one hand up your arm, fingertips brushing your skin, slow like a question.

“I been tryin’ not to cross this line with you,” he said finally, his breath hot against your neck, “but you makin’ it hard as hell, Y/N.”

You turned around slowly, meeting his eyes. The kitchen light caught the amber in them, and for the first time, he looked unsure.

“I didn’t come here for this,” you whispered.

“I know,” he said, turning you around. “But maybe you needed it anyway.”

His fingers brushed your jaw, tilting your face to his. And in that second, the distance between you felt like an insult.

Then his lips were on yours—soft at first, like a secret. Then firmer, deeper, like he’d been holding it in for years.

And when he finally pulled back, his forehead resting against yours, he whispered, “Tell me to stop… or I’m not lettin’ you go tonight.”

You didn’t say a word.

You didn’t need to.

Your silence was loud enough.

Note: Trying to work on building to the smut. Next part coming soon.