#cloudythoughts

“Uce and I may have had a libation or 2 on the bus.”

☁️ pairing: black fem reader x drunk jey uso

☁️ warning: MDNI, libations, smut, friends to fuckers, secret hook up, fingering in public, drunk sex, panties stuffed in your mouth, public risk

☁️ summary: Jey and Cody won a tag team match. No belts, but it still a big ass win. so now you are celebrating— with a libation or two and sex.

Of course, the OTC makes a match for him to sit out of and let Cody and Jey fight Bron Breakker and Bronson Reed for him.

And they win— barely, bruised, very tired.

Yet they won.

As they were in the locker room changing, Jimmy leaned on the doorframe holding a big bottle of Henny with a big ass smile on his face. Cody and Jey smile a bit. Then it’s all big laughs as Sami starts dancing— just happy because they won.

It’s a small after party on the tour bus. Roman, Rhea, Brandi, and Naomi are also there as well.

Roman in a corner off to himself—sipping on a short glass of Henny, chilling like the OTC he is. Jimmy and Naomi dancing to the music. Cody and Brandi being classy next to the mini bar. Sami, Rhea, and Jey are talking about if Jey would have got one more Tsunami from Bronson Reed, his career would have been over.

Jokes, of course.

Then there’s a knock on the door. Jimmy goes to answer it— a big smirk appears on his face. He moves out the way and Solo comes in.

“Little big brother here. And I brought a surprise for one of the winners.”

Jey looks confused at his brother’s words— then he sees the surprise and his mouth drops.

The music is loud, but your entrance is louder— bolder and sexier. Everyone couldn’t help, but stare at you. The way your dress shows off your curves. Holding your mini bag all innocent. Your hair is not too much, not too little— just right. You look like a model. No, a Goddess.

You’ve known the Fatu family since you were 15. Your mom and Rikishi have been friends since high school. You and your mom were invited to everything that the Fatu family had— cookouts, birthday parties, weddings, etc.

You were cool with everyone— you just bond more with Solo. He always teased you, thinking you wanted his older brother, Jey. You didn’t though. And Jey always saw you as “lil sis” anyways.

Afterwards, life happened. He became a wrestler and you became a tattoo artist. The only reason you two reconnected was because you had to do touch-ups on Jimmy's tattoo. Jey sat there quietly— secretly admiring your beauty. Afterwards, he swore he would get a tattoo from you— never did, but he did keep in contact.

Every time a show is in your city, Jey hits you up. “I’m in the city, pull up.” “You good, ma? I’m in your city next week. Lemme see you.”

You never go to see him. You didn’t want to seem like a groupie. You already tattoo famous people and you get rumors of sleeping with them. You didn’t want it to be that with Jey— especially since you’ve known him and his family for so long.

He even texted you today for you to pull up on him after his win tonight. You lied and told him you were out of town.

But when Solo texted you: “Pull up for real. It’s just a celebration.” You had to come then.

Solo glances at Jey for a moment and back at you, “Told you.”

“Shut up, Joseph.” You roll your eyes playfully.

You make your way around— hugging Naomi who you haven’t seen in a while. Brandi compliments your dress, your hair, just your complete aura.

Jimmy looks at Jey and smirks, “Let’s pour up to that damn entrance.”

Everyone laughs and takes a shot. Except for Sami who takes a shot of water. The fun just definitely just got started.

No one has ever seen Jey stuck this way before. Rhea and Sami start teasing him.

“I’ve never seen Uce so struck before. Do you know her, Sami?” Rhea asks.

Sami shakes his head, “No. But he looks like he’s ready to risk it all for her.”

Jey chuckles, “Chill. Mind your business.”

He takes another shot and makes his way to you. You both trying to look cool and not thirsty at all for each other. But it’s hard when you look like trouble and he looks like he can tame your trouble.

“Thought you was out of town?” He says, half-serious, half-teasing.

“All that matters is that I’m here.” You smile at him and your eyes drift down to his chain.

Your finger lifts up his chain and you look at it— the way it shines even in this dim light.

“You looked amazing out there. Congratulations on the win.”

He chuckles a bit, “So all I needed to do was to win to see you?”

“I mean it’s a good reason.” You smirk at him and he shakes his head.

“You always make me work hard to get to you, huh.” His tongue glides across his bottom lip.

“Yeah, because you love chasing after me.” You giggle and sip from your glass.

“Hell yeah because I love that view from behind.” His hand snakes around your waist and to your ass.

He isn’t shy with his ass grip. He grabs a handful. You gasp and shake your head.

“You should chill. Before someone sees us.” You giggle.

“Too late for that one.” Sami chuckles. “Sorry to interrupt you two’s moment. But Jey, I’ll be right back. I ran out of sparkling water.”

Jey just nods his head and Sami is off his way.

As the night progresses— with matches on the TV and more bottles being open, you and Jey get closer by the night. You’re sitting on his lap while watching Iyo Sky and Stephanie Vaquer fight.

Though, you couldn’t pay attention with Jey’s fingers inside your panties. You keep shifting on his lap the more pleasure he brings you.

“Stop moving. You’re going to get us caught.” He whispers softly against your neck.

You grip his thighs tightly, quiet whimpering as his fingers curl and pump inside you fast.

“Everyone thinks you’re so calm right now.” Jey grins, “But I feel how wet this pussy is for me.”

Iyo lands a moonsault and pins Vaquer for the win. Everyone cheers— except for you, who lets out a moan that’s only audible to Jey. His fingers drag out your panties covered in your slick.

“Come to the back with me.” Jey offers you.

You waste no time and get off him. You two pass everyone else as you sneak off into the back of the bus.

Jey wastes no time. He pushes you against the window— hiking up your dress to your stomach and sliding your panties to the ground. He frees himself out of his sweatpants— already hard, already leaking.

He rubs his tip against your clit, “Are you going to be quiet for me?”

You instantly moan out loud, “Oh fuck!”

He smacks your ass and rubs his tip slower against you. “You’re going to have to be quiet. Can you do it for me?”

You bite your lip and nod your head yes. He smiles as he pushes himself inside you. You slide your hand down the window as you muffle a moan from your mouth. He was bigger than you expected— already in so deep, stretching you out in the best way.

He gives you no time to adjust to him, he grips your hips as fucks you hard as if he’s mad at you for lying to him. Or because he hates the fact that you’ve been holding off on giving him your wet ass pussy.

You let out a strangled moan as your hands keep trying to grip the window.

He lifts one of your legs up and starts slamming into you. You moan so loud and try to push him away. He shakes his head no and pins it against your back.

“No. You’re going to take this dick.” He takes his other hand and covers your mouth.

His thrusts don’t slow down. The faster and deeper they get, the louder you get. Then he hits that spot. Mistake. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you let out a slight scream. He chuckles in your ear.

You muffle your answer— which makes him smirk.

He pulls out for a second to grab your panties from off your ankles. He pulls them up and places them by your lip.

“Open.” He demands.

You part your lips and he stuffs the soft lace in your mouth and resumes driving himself back inside you.

But not even the panties could stop how loud you were. Every time Jey slams inside you, they would fall from your mouth and you would hurry to place them back in before he made another moan escape from your mouth.

If you didn’t give it away, the loud wet clapping sounds definitely give it away. Your legs are trembling as Jey drives himself deeper inside you as if he has a point to prove to you. Besides, Jey didn’t even want you to be quiet. He wanted to hear your slutty sounds anyways.

Then Cody notices.

He glances towards the back of the bus, then he blinks repeatedly when the realization hits, “No fuckin’ way.”

He chuckles and turns the TV off. He claps and whistles to drain the sounds out. “Ight, party’s outside. Drinks outside.”

Jimmy groans, “Man, what the hell?”

“Out.” Cody says sternly.

Everyone looks at him, confused— they follow his directions and head out.

You and Jey catch the movement of everyone getting off the bus.

His hand goes to your lips and he removes the panties from your mouth, “You can be as loud as you want now. They are not going to hear you over that engine.”

His fingers dig into your skin, pulling you closer. His strokes are slow and deep.

You let out the cry that was stuck in your throat as he grabs your thigh to pull you back on him.

“You want more, baby girl?" He asks you, voice low and dangerous.

You whimper, “Yes. Yes, please give me more, Jey.”

He grins, “Then take it.”

He grabs your hips, dragging you down his dick— giving you deeper and harder. Your fingers claw the window as your breath fogs the window even more. You try to push him away again— just for him to pin your arms on your back.

“You said you want more. You can take it.” He smacks your ass.

Your legs buckle and your eyes roll in the back of your head. He leans up and kisses your neck, “You feel that. Stop running from it.”

You nod your head— frantically. Your whines only made him go deeper. You start clenching around him.

“Josh, I’m finna cum. Please let me cum.” You whine and whimper.

“That pretty pussy wanna make a mess for me.” Jey grips your ass. “What’s my name?”

“Daddy!” You whine out low.

“Louder!”

“DADDY FUCK!” You scream out as you make a mess on his lower body.

You bite your lip as you feel him twitching inside you. You start throwing it back on him— barely since your legs are still buckling like crazy. He throws his head back and shuts his eyes.

“Shiiit.” He grips your ass tight.

“Nut in my pussy, Josh. Please nut in me.” You whine as you go faster throwing it back.

“Fuck. You want this nut, baby.” He growls.

You nod frantically, “Yes. Yes. Fill me up baby.” You fold under him.

His jaw clenches tightly before it hits him. A broken moan comes out his mouth as he pulls your waist closer to him as he releases inside you. You close your eyes and slide your hand down the window as he coats your insides.

When he pulls out, your legs finally give out. You almost fall, but he catches you. He chuckles and kisses your forehead.

“I didn’t go too hard on you?” He asks you.

You shake your head no and giggle.

As you two get dressed and make yourselves presentable, before going outside.

Outside, Sami tries to come in the tour bus, but Roman stops him— no words, just a nod to the fogged up window. Sami chuckles and shakes his head.

A few minutes later, you two come out of the bus. Jimmy, Cody, Roman, and Sami all have smirks on their faces. You look at Jey and giggle. Everyone else is completely oblivious to the situation.

“Come on, Uce. We got an interview.” Cody says.

You want to be around Jey more, but you know work calls. You kiss his cheek and whisper in his ear. He chuckles and nods his head to you.

Cody and Jey go to the interview room. Both being goofy and cocky little shits. Cody sits like a drunk professional mess as Jey has his glasses on slightly crooked as well as his chain. They are making inside jokes with each other— barely answering any questions from the interviewers. The interviewer asks them what exactly got them in a good mood after their win.

Cody gives Jey a side eye and he laughs, “Uce and I may have had a libation or 2 on the bus.”

Cody tries to say it simply. Jey subtly makes it known it was more than the libations.

“I had way more than two libations.” He grins and daps up Cody.

“Yeah, this man had a whole party by himself.” Cody jokes around with him.

Well i kindly ask you dont eat it whole, as im rather proud of the doodle, but here you go!

not mY PASTA!!!!!!

☁️ pairing: black fem reader x roman reigns

☁️ warning: MDNI, smut, kitchen sex, holding a mango in your mouth as he eats you out, filling you up so much that you leak on the floor you nasty motherfucker, mind you… all this because you’re wearing his shirt, dirty talk while he in that *CENSORED*

☁️ summary: you in his shirt, eating his mangoes… his last container of mangoes at that. you give him a slight attitude, so he fuck you.

☁️ a/n: i told you in the wip, this was going to get published today. this was so good, i lost track of time, and finished a few minutes ago… this isn’t proofread, but i don’t think there’s any mistakes… but if there’s are excuse it.

also get into the line divider. shits soooo cute to me.

also check the wip still if you haven’t, more info about my upcoming writing.

It wasn’t like you were trying to be sexy.

You just grabbed the first shirt you saw– the shirt he was planning to wear today, but he swapped out for a different shirt last minute. It smelled like him. You rushed back to the bathroom and took a shower.

After you are done with your shower, you get dressed– no bra, no panties, just his shirt. You walk to the kitchen and go in the refrigerator to grab a snack.

It was nothing appeasing to you— protein shakes, hard boiled eggs, chicken, steaks, oatmeal. Roman’s diet wasn’t … your cup of tea. Besides, you didn’t want anything big. You weren’t hella hungry.

Then you see it, a bowl of cut mango—peeled and sliced. You absolutely loved mangos. But these weren’t your mangos. They were his. But he wouldn’t mind if you get some… right?

You start eating the mango slices. You feel like the happiest woman on the Earth right now— sitting on the counter, swinging your legs, enjoying that ripe juicy fruit. You know you have a while to enjoy this, especially since he’s at a meeting for work.

A few mangoes in, you hear the door open and close behind him. You hop off the counter and try to hide the fact you were eating the last container of them.

“Heyy baby.” You say, slowly chewing the mango in your mouth.

“Hey my ass. You eating my mangoes?” He sounds really serious.

Slowly, you turn to close the bowl and slowly turn back to him, “No. No.”

“Mhm.” He walks closer to you, hand on your waist.

He slightly pushes you out of the way to see the bowl of mango slices on the counter. He shakes his head at you and you give him an innocent giggle.

“Those were my last mangoes, baby.” He crosses his arms and stares at you hard.

You suck your thumb and lick your lips, “I’m sorry. It was really good though.”

He just looks at you. His shirt showing off your curves. The hem of it shows the top of your thighs. Since you have no bra on, he could see your nipples are hard underneath.

“So you're wearing my shirt? Eating my mangoes. You think you run shit now?” His voice is low and very dangerous.

But the look in his eyes? Starving. And not for no damn mango.

“Maybe I do.” You shrug and you turn your back away from him to eat another slice.

You bend over on the counter and enjoy the juicy fruit. You turn back around and wipe the juice off your chin in his face. His jaw clenches hard.

“You're real bold today.” He places his hand on your waist again. “Seems like to me, you need me to fuck that lil attitude you got out of you.”

You don’t flinch— just laugh and turn back around to pop another slice in your mouth and wipe the juice off the corner of your mouth in his face again.

He doesn’t move at first. He just watches you with darkened eyes. The fact you looked back at him as if you’re so innocent and haven't done anything wrong— so bold, daring even.

You’re playing with fire— and you don't care if it burns.

With no words or warning, he picks you up and places you on the counter— legs clamp onto the counter as well. He spreads your legs open. His finger rubs your slick folds.

“Look at you, dripping more than that mango and I barely even touched you.” He whispers under his breath.

You gasp as you feel his lips on your collarbone. His other hand rubs on your thigh, building more pressure in your body.

“Here’s what we are going to do? Since you think you run shit and you can eat my fruit.” He smirks, “Open your mouth.” He demands you.

You follow him and your lips part away from each other. He grabs a mango slice and places it in your mouth.

“You’re not allowed to bite it or drop it. You do, I stop. Understand?”

You shake your head yes. He gets another mango slice and rubs it on your body— your neck, your breast, your stomach, and your inner thighs. He smiles and eats the mango in your face, wiping the juice off his lips with a finger and sucks it.

“Oh yeah. I’m about to have fun with you.”

He nibbles and bites the areas he rubs the mango on— starting with your neck to your breasts, then your stomach to your thighs. He marks your thighs up, just to kiss the bruise afterwards. His fingers are still rubbing your folds, getting his fingers more and more covered in your slick.

You try to hold still as he replaces his fingers with his mouth. His tongue swirls around your clit as his mouth sucks on you. You arch your back and close your eyes— almost dropping the mango.

He pulls back a bit and looks up at you, “Don’t drop that mango. You don’t want me to stop, don’t you?”

He gives you a teasing smile and resumes eating. You let out a muffled moan as you throw your head back. He pulls you closer to his face and grips the back of your thighs—chilling like he has nowhere else to be but in between your thighs.

He dives back in— flattening his tongue to give you long and slow licks on your clit, enough to drive you mad. Then he starts sucking it, making your thighs twitch in his hand. He won’t let you move, though.

You hear him groan— loving the taste of you. You grab his hair and pull him deeper to your core. The juices from the mango slide to your corners of your mouth and he sees it.

“Don’t drop it baby.” He mumbles in your pussy, “I love watching you struggle baby.”

Your hands claw the counter and your breathing gets harder. Your hips start buckling and you feel him smiling as he feels you shaking and trembling all because of him.

“Look at you. You were just being so bold, now you’re a mess.”

His words vibrate on your clit, your eyes close fast and there’s a cry stuck in your throat, but he doesn’t care. Then, he sucks your clit just right and it hits you.

Your body jerks, your legs shaking as you come. But that mango? Still in your mouth.

He groans again in your pussy, now intoxicated from the taste of your cum. He finally pulls off of you a few minutes later. His eyes are low and glistening. His beard is completely covered in you.

“Such a good girl.” He says.

Then his mouth meets yours in a needy kiss. He places his hands on your waist and pulls you closer to him. He pushes his tongue past your lips, and he takes the mango out your mouth and eats it.

“Mm… you taste way better than the mango, to be honest.” He teases you again.

You just look at him, pleased and shocked by his actions. Your chest is still rising up and down fast as you’re trying to catch your breath.

He grips your thighs and picks you up as he lays another sloppy kiss on you. He hikes up his shirt to expose your breast. Then you feel your back on the cold refrigerator, you moan in his mouth.

He pulls away and starts unbuckling his pants and lets them fall to his ankles, along with his boxers.

“Joe.” You shake your head, “I don’t think I can take anymore. That one was … a lot.”

He chuckles and smirks at you, “I don’t care, baby girl.”

Your eyes widen as you feel him push inside you slowly. Your head falls back on the fridge, “Fuck…”

His hand wraps around your waist as he goes deeper inside you. He kisses your neck and makes some marks. You start scratching his back.

You two just started and it’s already too much for you. You try to push him away.

“Joe, I—fuck! I can’t take it.” Your voice trembling like your legs.

“Yes, you can, baby. Yes, you can.” He whispers on your neck and starts kissing all the bruises on your neck. “Look at how good you’re taking me now.”

He pulls you back down hard on him, “You are taking me so well.”

The kitchen is filled with your moans and whimper. The sound makes Joe excited. Eventually, you start taking his dick. Of course, he praises you about it.

“First, you get bold and wear my shirt, eat my fruit, and talk back to me. Telling me you can’t take this dick?”

He slowly pulls out. You whimper at the empty feeling he leaves with for a split second. He grips your ass and pushes back in deep.

“Now look at you, like the little slut you are. Taking all of my dick.”

You choke on your breath as he starts pounding you. You wrap your legs up and pull him closer and close your eyes as he hits that spot. He grabs your face and squeezes your cheeks.

“Open them. Eyes on me. Look at who is fucking this pussy good.” He demands you.

Your eyes flutter open and you look at the man who is beating your pussy out the frame. You’re getting dizzy, but you didn’t care— the pleasure is too good.

“Joe… Joe.” You whimper his name— nothing else follows.

“That pussy about to make a mess for me?”

You nod your head yes— that’s not enough for him.

“I need words baby. Is that pussy about to make a mess for me?” He grumbles.

Your moan is airy— soft and light, “Yes, yes Joe. I’m going to cum.”

You tighten up around his dick, pulling him even closer to your body.

You cry and twitch as you come again. The sound music to his ears—he thrusts one last time, deep inside you. He groans loudly as he comes inside, giving you every last drop. He stays inside you for a while. You both panting hard on each other’s skin.

He pulls out slowly and watches as you start leaking out. You look at him like he is crazy.

“What the hell possessed you to do all that?” You look at him.

He chuckles, “You look good as hell in my shirt, baby.” He kisses your forehead.

He lets you off the refrigerator and makes you clean your own mess off the floor as he runs a nice warm bath for the two of you. He showers you with kisses and washes you off. You relax as you don’t have to lift a finger.

☁️ pairing: black fem reader x girl dad husband damson idris

☁️ warning: fluff, smartass mouth daughter that you love, parenting, mentions sexual activities

☁️ summary: your daughter has got in trouble at school again. you can’t pick her up because of work, but damson can. only thing is … he has the biggest soft spot for your daughter, Zaria.

☁️ a/n: took a small break from wwe smut to write some fluff. i really hope you enjoy. damson has been on my mind since his episode of chicken shop date two weeks ago, so decided to write some for him.

You were hardheaded at eleven. Cuss words. Arguing with kids about if your hair was fake or not. You would reply “Your mammy fake bitch. Leave me the hell alone.” Your mom would get you some new shoes— the kids would hate on you. Your response? “You can’t be mad at me because y’all mamas broke as hell.”

Your mom always told you, you were going to catch karma for having her go back and forth to that damn school. Baby, was she right.

Zaria Monét Idris— your ten year old daughter. A-Honor Roll student. Baby boss— “leader” of her friend group. Smart mouth just like you, acts just like you at eleven. Has you or either her dad coming up to that school twice a week.

When you dropped her off today, you told her:

“Zaria Monét, please behave at school today. One peaceful day. Just one.”

She instantly hit you with:

“Mama, you act like I’m the problem every time.”

You turn around in your seat and give her a stern look— that “don’t play with me lil girl” look. You know she doesn’t care about that look though. Because you didn’t care about that then and you don’t care about it now.

Zaria rolls her eyes, “Okay. I’ll be a good girl today.”

Just from that eye roll, you should have known better.

You work at a community center as a creative writer instructor— teaching kids to write their emotions instead of reacting all the time. You teach all types of kids— homeschooling kids, suspended students, even the little Pre-K and Kindergarten kids writing about dragons and princess with you.

Around 1:30, as you were helping a kid find an idea for his story— your phone goes off. You sigh, instantly knowing who it was. Zaria’s school. You cuss under your breath as you hear the teacher explain what she did and tell you that she needs to be picked up immediately.

“Okay. I’m at work and I can’t leave right now. I’ll send my husband to get her.” You pinch the bridge of your nose.

As soon as the teacher hangs up, you call Damson— your hubby.

Today is his day off— no filming, no interviews. He is at the gym. He’s running shirtless on the treadmill, sweating with a towel hanging on his shoulder, listening to Brent Faiyaz in his AirPods.

Your ringtone goes off for him and he answers.

“Hey baby.” He says, sounding all sweet. “You good?”

“Get your damn daughter from that school.” You semi-yell, pacing back and forth. “The teacher says she has been rude all day today. She’s “emotionally unsafe” whatever the hell that means.”

He chuckles, “Maybe the teacher is overreacting.”

“Damson… it’s that teacher. You know the one that recently went through that divorce because her husband left her.” You pinch the bridge of your nose again.

“She told the teacher, “You’re worried bout me being mean when you need to worry about that divorce and that young nurse your husband left you for. He was definitely mean to you.”

It was silent— you hear that smirk on Damson appearing and you shake your head.

“No. You better not laugh. Damson, this is serious.”

He clears his throat, “No, no you’re right. This is serious. As soon as we get home, I’m going to take her phone and her iPad. No calls, no Roblox.”

You sigh, “Well first bring her up here. I want to talk to her. You’re going to be all sweet with her since she’s your little girl.”

“I’m not going to be sweet. I’m going to give her the dad voice?” He says, sternly.

You shake your head and laugh, “You? Dad voice? Boy please. You’re so soft when it comes to Zaria.”

“I do have a dad voice with Zaria.” He stops the treadmill and gets off.

“Mhm… okay baby.” You giggle a bit.

Then you blow your breath hard, “And don’t get her no McDonald’s. She already texting me talking about “Can she get a 10 piece from McDonald’s?” Girl no.

He chuckles, “Your momma said you were going to catch Hell from her.” He goes into the locker room and quickly freshens up.

“You and my momma both can kiss my ass.”

He smirks, “Well since you’re inviting me. Be ready as soon as you get home.” He says as he puts his hoodie on and heads to his car.

“Damson…” You roll your eyes playfully.

“I can see it now. I can drop Zaria off at your mom’s. As soon as you come home, bend you over the couch and fuck this stress away from you.”

Your breath catches and you bite your bottom lip.

“Damson, stop being nasty.” You whisper low, clearing your throat. “Go get our daughter from that school.” You say sternly as if your voice didn’t snitch on you already.

“Ight, I’m about to go get her. Love you, pretty girl.”

“Love you too, baby.” You smile.

⋆｡°✩☁︎✩°｡⋆

The gym isn’t far from Zaria’s school, so Damson is there in five or ten minutes. He walks inside and sees the teacher that Zaria made cry. He only was able to recognize her because she was still crying and her face was puffy.

He turns his head to the right— a bright smiling Zaria placing her Bluey pencil case back in her bag. She runs to him and hugs him.

“Hey, daddy.” She says softly as if she didn’t make this lady cry.

He clears his throat, “Hey, baby girl.”

He hugs her back and looks her in her eyes.

“Is there something you want to say to your teacher?”

She keeps that bright smile on her face and shakes her head no. He sighs and looks at the teacher who is crying. Her eyes follow his.

“You want me to say sorry to her?” She raises her eyebrow at him.

He nods to her, “Yes, Zaria. You hurt her feelings. You shouldn’t disrespect your teacher.”

She looks at him like he’s the one who said the craziest thing. She crosses her arms and stares at him. Once she sees he’s not playing, she sighs and slowly walks to the teacher.

“Mrs. Franklin, I’m sorry if you think what I said was rude and disrespectful. It wasn't very nice of me to say what I said.”

She mumbles under her breath, “Even if it was true.”

Damson side eyes her and then looks at the teacher, “Ma’am I’m very sorry for my daughter’s words.”

The teacher just nods— half ass accepting the half ass apology from your daughter. This kind of pisses off Damson.

“Well, my daughter didn’t have to apologize to you. You really can’t be mad at her because your husband left you for a young bitch.”

Damson thinks to himself, sounding just like his wife. Maybe your attitude rubs off on your family.

He takes her hand and walks her to his car— she gets in the passenger seat and puts her seat belt on. He looks at her and shakes his head.

“You got to stop disrespecting your teacher and peers. Your mommy said that your teacher said you were mean to everyone.”

She groans, “Because they kept saying that I think I’m better than everyone because you’re my daddy and I get everything that I want. And that’s not true, so I put them in their place. Duh.” She shrugs. “Besides, you don’t get to be rude to me because your parents broke.”

Damson chuckles— instantly clears his throat, “Just because they start with you doesn't mean you are rude to them. You turn your cheek and be the bigger person.”

She looks at Damson like “the fuck.” He can not be serious at this point— he laughs at her.

“You look just like your mom, kid.” He laughs a bit more. “But I’m serious, Zaria. You have to be the bigger person in these situations. People are going to say things that make you mad. You have to ignore them.”

“And let them think they are going to walk all over me? No sir.” She crosses her arms.

“No, being the bigger person and not saying anything means you’re wiser than them. More power than them.” He says.

Zaria thinks for a moment. She likes being wiser than the rest of the peasants— kids. But to have power over them. She loves that idea.

She looks at him, “Maybe, maybe you’re onto something.”

“I know I’m right, Zee.”

He starts the car and they head home. Zaria looks at him.

“So since I apologized and learnt a lesson, can I get McDonald’s?” She asks with a big smile on her face.

“No, your mom already blowing my phone up saying no McDonald's. Talking about some, “Don’t let her finesse you into getting her that McDonald’s” Blah blah blah.”

He tries to mimic your voice which makes Zaria giggle hard. The sound that pulls his heart strings.

⋆｡°✩☁︎✩°｡⋆

So you weren’t surprised when Zaria and Damson pulled up to your job— McDonald’s bag in one hand and Caramel Frappé in the other hand.

You just laugh and look at him, “And you still did it.” You shake your head.

“I still gave her the Dad voice though.” Dasmon chuckles a bit.

“Yeah. Daddy made me think on a whole other level. I’ll have power over them if I turn my cheek.” She smiles and goes into your classroom and starts eating her food.

You look at him in shock— he just laughs.

“Told you. I got it, pretty girl.” He kisses your forehead.

“Still got her food even though I said no.” You cross your arms on your chest. “Probably didn’t take her phone or iPad either.”

You are proud of him though, even though you are getting on his back— he knows it too. Finally, he uses his Dad voice.

“She’s a mini-you, baby girl. Just like how you get your way, she gets her way too.”

“Mhm. Did you get me food?” You ask.

He raises his eyebrow, “Didn’t think you wanted anything since you wouldn’t let Zee get some.”

You groan and look at him like “the fuck” and he laughs again.

“Nah, I’m playing, baby. I got your favorite.”

☁️ pairing: black fem reader x dom Rhea Ripley

☁️ warnings: MDNI, smut, neck biting, dirty talk, sex on the couch, praise kink, mommy kink, slightly angsty, slow burn

☁️ summary: reader tries to initiate sex with Rhea, but between training and RAW, she’s tired. Or so she thinks.

“Mommy, can we do it tonight?” You roll your face in her neck, leaving small pecks.

Rhea groans and pushes you off. Her training was excruciating, not to mention yesterday’s show of RAW. She had to go against Naomi for her belt, yet she wasn’t able to take that belt from Naomi. She felt defeated and you knew it.

The rejection was hard—your attitude was harder. You groan back at her and stand up and walk to the kitchen. You pour yourself a glass of wine and head to your office, without looking back.

Rhea doesn’t follow you— not at first. You leave the door open just a bit. Even though your jaws are clenched, you keep a natural smile on your face. Then you hear it. The floor creaks under her boots. She’s coming— of course, she is.

She slides in your office and sits on the couch. You just sip your wine and do some paperwork for your work. You were currently on vacation from your job— your last day in two more days. You want to be ahead of the program. That way, when you go back, there’s not much to do.

You met Rhea through your job actually— photography. You were taking pictures backstage for the media team for WWE. Rhea came in with great energy and vibes— also very loud.

She didn’t say hi. Just stared down the lens like it owed her something. Sat in the chair, legs spread, hands on her thighs, biting the inside of her cheek while you adjusted lighting.

“Don’t make me look pretty,” she said. “Make me look like a threat.”

And fuck, did you.

You loved her energy from afar— but it was just a job. You snap the picture and she looks incredible. She loves it. She swears that from now on, she only wants her pictures taken by you.

The picture went viral almost three minutes after it was posted. You woke up to a lot of new followers— including Rhea herself.

Now you’re sitting across from her—absorbing her shitty ass mood. She bites her lip before speaking.

“So did you edit my last pictures from the shoot from Evolution?”

You didn’t answer— just sip your wine and type on the computer, confirming a client on the calendar.

She knows you edited her last set of pictures. You take your work on your girlfriend very seriously.

She clears her throat, voice light, “This is working for me.”

You roll your eyes and keep working— editing and confirming appointments.

She walks up to you and sits on the desk. Her lips twitch, amused at your nonchalant expression.

“I said… this silent treatment thing is working for me.”

You continue to ignore her and grab your wine glass and take another long sip. As soon as you put it down, you feel her hand snake around your throat.

“But you’re going to talk to mommy, baby girl.”

There’s a scratch in her tone, soft and dangerous. You know it’s more of a promise than a threat, but you didn’t care. You look her in her eyes and you act as if you’re unfazed, but secretly you are about to jump on her.

She pecks your lips and slowly starts kissing you in your favorite way— wet and sloppy. You try to push her away, but she doesn’t bulge at all— her grip only tightens around your neck. Her tongue slides over your lips, trails down to your jawline, and finally to your ear.

She pulls away from your neck and looks at you. Your expression falters— showing slight weakness. But not enough to just let her fuck right away. She smirks and pulls your chair back.

“Are you going to talk to mommy?”

You just look at her and slowly you start to crack at how beautiful she was. Her tattoos, her muscles, her eyes. Everything about Rhea… just screamed, masterpiece.

But no— you’re not falling for her so quickly.

You just resume your work and sip your wine.

Her smirk falters. She picks you up, making a yelp escape your lips, and your body is tossed on the couch. Rhea climbs on top of you and starts kissing all over your neck. You try to act like you’re in control—but your hips are already buckling.

“And the wine kicks in 3…2…1.”

And on cue, the wine kicks in, making you a lil warm inside— feeling sexy about yourself.

Her mouth finds your collarbone and your breathing stops briefly. Her tongue glides around as she tastes some of her victory.

No words come out your mouth telling her you wanted her— it was in the way you arch your back. The way you parted your legs just enough so she can snuggle up in between them.

Her hand presses against your inner thigh and that’s it. You let out a moan as your body jerks up.

“There’s Mommy’s slutty girl.” She laughs slightly.

You roll your eyes and snap an attitude to her, “You could have just said yes when I first asked you.”

She nods her head in agreement, “Could have done a lot of things.”

Her hands slide in your panties and start rubbing your clit, “But when you pout because you can’t get your way? It turns me on.”

Her teeth sink into the side of your neck. You moan as your body starts squirming under her. Her tongue licks the bite before sliding up to your ear again.

She whispers, low and breathy, “Baby girl, I’m going to ruin you. Nice and slow.”

She dips her fingers lower, pushing them past your soaked entrance— without a warning. She slides into your tight pussy. You clench onto them.

“So fucking needy.” She breaths against your neck.

She speeds up her pace and curls her fingers inside you just right. Your breath hitches and your hands jerks more to her hand as more moans escape your mouth.

Her head snakes lower to your pussy and she goes down on you. She sucks on your clit as her fingers are hitting your spot.

Your legs lock onto Rhea’s shoulders as she lifts your hips off the couch as if you weigh nothing. She brings your pussy closer to her face. You quietly gasp and thread your fingers through her hair. Your thighs tremble around her head.

“Fuck, mommy. Right there, yes.” You grab your chest as your body squirms more.

She smirks, “Keep squirming. I love watching you fold for me.’

She slows her pace down, knowing that it was going to drive you insane.

You let out a low aggravated moan. You bite your lip and start riding her face a bit, hoping it would bring you closer to your orgasm. She smirks at you.

“Impatient? I’ll get you there, baby girl. Mommy promise.”

Her fingers pick up their pace, in a perfect sync with the torture her tongue is giving you. You gasp for air and let out the sexiest moan for Rhea.

“Please…. Please don’t stop. Don’t ever fucking stop.” You moan out as you cup your breast in your hand. You look in her eyes with the most sultry smile.

She smiles back at you, “You keep looking at me like that, you’re going to make a mess for me. I promise you.”

You bite your lip and keep looking at her, dripping your essences out a little bit as you feel the promise settling deep in your core.

She pushes her fingers deeper inside and they are no longer teasing your spot, they are hitting your spot at a fast pace. Her mouth is still sucking and pulling on your clit.

She looks at you without pulling away. Her eyes tell you, “Make a mess for me, baby girl. Let me taste every last drop of you.”

You grip the couch and let out a high pitched squeal as you let go of your orgasm. And her eyes don’t lie. She tastes every last drop of you.

She smiles and lays you back on the couch. She hovers over your face. You open your mouth. A trail of her saliva mixed with your cum connects into your mouth.

And of course, you swallow it.

You look at her hand and you see it covers your cum. You tease her fingertips before you part your lips and guide them in your mouth, sucking them nice and slow.

“Needy, baby girl. You can’t get enough of yourself.” She chuckles and grips your thigh.

You smile and shake your head no to her.

☁️ pairing: poetic soft black fem reader x VERY TOXIC lakeith stanfield

☁️ warning: MDNI, smut, FILTH, LONG intense slow burn, if i ever write a man driving a gnx again… he’s toxic, he ghosts you and during sex he has YOU begging forgive for “ghosting” him (manipulation), got 69, more than 25 reasons (me hennessy and you since:->) they off the henny (i wouldn’t say drunk sex, more like tipsy sex), unprotected sex (but please be practice safe sex, the population ain’t getting no smaller.), dirty talk. the word count on this is 3.6k. it’s long because toxic people prolong shit out.

☁️ summary: lakeith ghosts you and you lost who you were. eventually you relearn yourself and you re-love yourself again, even meet someone new along the journey. all it takes is one night to be back under Lakeith. Most of his victims call it, “The Lakeith Effect.”

☁️ a/n: one i seriously didn’t mean to make him this toxic. it wasn’t as toxic until the sex, i’m not going to lie. well maybe … before that, but i just feel like if this is something he does on the regular… he’s more nonchalant and he doesn’t give a fuck… simple

two, i think i want to do a story with jahlani. he’s so sweet. i love him and his life is messy but it’s not too too much, you’ll see.

three, coming back to this, post sex scene … this isn’t even fucking smut… this is filth… like the dirty talk mixed with manipulation? i don’t know who the fuck i’m channeling… but i hope i channeled that motherfucker good.

four, i dip my toes in poetry here and there. i’m not the best at all. i say i won my 12th grade poetry slam by pure luck. so with that being said… don’t judge my poetry or spoken word. i was just trying something.

Lakeith

Lakeith Lee Stanfield

God, you wish you never met him.

You swore up and down that no man was going to ever run you crazy— you met your match though.

It all started at a tiny underground open mic. All the poets, musicians, comedians, and storytellers under one building. It was a beautiful night. You had your notebook— squibbling down your thoughts and feelings for every performance. You were going to turn it into your own spoken word.

Then he came on stage. Cocky smirk, man spreading on the stool. His eyes found their way to you. Coy smile on his face. He looked away from you and started to perform a quick little spoken word.

You remember every words— what sticks to you is this line:

“Tonight, I couldn’t wait to get under your dress…”

His eyes wandered back to you— in your yellow mini dress that complimented your skin tone nice.

“… to see those beautiful curves, you love to hide from me.”

You dropped your pen and your thighs pressed hard together. Your eyes didn’t leave him after that as he kept letting the poison slip from his lips.

“I don’t want to rush this lovemaking. No, I want to explore your body, trace your arch with my mouth. Follow every breath that you’ve been trying to hold back from me.”

His words wrapped around you— your heart, your waist, your soul. It’s like they were familiar with you. They knew you because they were about you.

The snaps, the whistles— they all filled the room. Not like an applause, more of a warning. But that man was pulling on you to be his. Maybe for the night. Maybe more. And you needed that.

As soon as he finished, he walked to your table— eyes never left you. His fingers took your notebook and began to read your notes. You should have snatched it— something in your body told you otherwise.

Then, one of your notes caught his attention:

“His words, his voice, his looks— nothing but trouble”

He chuckled, “You think I’m trouble?”

“How do you know that line was about you? Could have just been a random thought.” You lean back in your seat.

He shook his head and closed the space between you two, “You stopped writing when I got on stage, beloved.”

His voice was still as dangerously low and seductive as it was when he was performing. Your breath caught in your throat.

Next thing you knew…

Your face plastered on his foggy window in the backseat of his car as your yellow dress was bunched up on your waist as his hands were on your hips, pulling you back on his dick. His strokes were deep and slow— more dangerous than his voice.

⋆｡°✩☁︎✩°｡⋆

That night in his ‘87 GNX, it shouldn’t have happened. After the late night hookups, he ghosted you two weeks later. No calls, no text— just silence.

You lost the woman you used to be— the calm and peaceful woman who used to write poetry about love and butterflies. You became an angry, bitter woman— writing poetry about heartbreak, destruction of towns.

The Lakeith effect…

The Lakeith effect is what the other women at the open mic call it. He preys on beautiful black women who glow with soft innocence. Ones who usually wouldn’t give it up the first night, yet gullible enough to fall for his words.

It took four months— four long hard months to get over him. You had to train your heart to no longer care when your phone doesn’t flash “LS”. It took four months to become the woman that you used to be.

Your writings are a balance— writing about a special love and some heartbreak. The confused mindset of how love has you. Everyone loves your work at open mic.

⋆｡°✩☁︎✩°｡⋆

Tonight, after four months of silence and peace, you see his name on the signup sheet.

Lakeith L Stanfield

You sign your name and look around to see if you see him around. Of course, he’s at the bar— seducing another victim.

You shake your head and sit at a table with your friends you met at open mic— some are the women who have interesting stories about their time with him, some who write the same as you.

Then there’s Jahlani— an occasional hookup here and there. He comes with baggage— a girlfriend that is also his baby mama. In his mind, that’s maybe his girl, but he owes her no loyalty. She cheats, doesn’t clean, and doesn’t work. He’s just staying until he’s fully ready to leave her ass alone and coparent with her.

But besides that, Jah is a sweetheart. He doesn’t just pick you up and fuck. No, he shows you a good time— picnics at the park, a movie date, cooking together, trips to the dispensary and smoking in his secret apartment afterward. Aftercare is top tier with him. He helps clean up, always has a good bottle of water waiting on you and a small snack, cuddles and reassures you, “You did amazing, baby girl. Relax now.” And he doesn’t just fuck you, he makes love to you.

Open mic performances start, but you could barely pay attention with Jahlani touching all over you underneath the table— grabbing your thigh, cupping your pussy. Tonight, he is a little handsy, but you didn’t mind. You are right along with him— touching his dick.

Then you hear it. His name.

Lakeith L Stanfield

He looks at you and smirks. You roll your eyes, but your stomach tightens. He sits on the stool on stage, manspreading wide, his gaze never left you.

“In the backseat of my GNX, your thighs were wrapped around me, my hands on your hips pulling you close, slow...”

You shake your head, along with the other Lakeith effect victims. But then it takes a twist,

“Yeah, I remember that night, your yellow dress pressed to your chest, notebook in your hand. Trying to act like you didn’t fall in love by the first word that rolled off my lips.”

Your breath catches when you realize this is about YOU. You cover your face, slightly embarrassed but intrigued.

“You wrote: His words, his voice, his looks— nothing but trouble in your notebook, Knowing that I was going to wreck you from the first glance, first breath.”

The girls at the table start to look at you, realizing this is about you. They smirk, astonished. Lakeith never spoke about his personal experience with a girl in his work. Well, not until tonight. And it’s about you.

When he is done, everyone snaps and whistles just like last time. Everyone except for you— your thighs squeezing tight together as there is a pool forming inside your panties. It was good, you just didn’t like it. He gets off stage and he winks at you. You just sip your drink— unbothered.

After a few more people, it was finally time for you to go up and perform your work. You were slightly nervous because it was about Lakeith and he was there.

You take a shot of Henny that Jahlani had ordered for the table and in your mind, you think:

“Fuck it! He wrote about me and performed it. You can do the fucking same!”

You walk to the stage and you just stand up,

“I’m not going to lie to you, I’m tipsy. My nerves were bad for this one.”

The crowd laughs and cheers you on to perform your poem. You giggle.

“I call this one ‘From Chaos to Light’”

The words started flowing out your mouth with ease and you couldn’t stop. Every now and again, you would glance at Lakeith— hoping your words were hitting him.

“You had me, You wrecked me, My body still remembers how you made me tremble, How I mistook your chaos for intimacy, How I let your fire feel like love.”

You look at Lakeith whose eyes are burning into you— you stop for a moment to catch your breath. Then you look at Jahlani, who is smiling at you with the brightest smile in a dark room. It gives you the courage to continue.

“Long months of silence— a silence that broke me down, shattered the woman I used to be, Four long months to find her again, to relearn her, to re-love her.”

The women in the crowd start to cheer— relating to the words that came out of your mouth.

“Then, there was a light at the end of the tunnel, He wasn’t loud like you, He was soft—steady even, Brought me a happiness that I thought I’d lost, A happiness that I thought I could never have again.”

You look at Jahlani and smile. He smiles back at you. Your words shower him in praise and appreciation for bringing you even closer to the woman you are now.

Afterwards, you swim in a sea of loud snaps and whistles as you go back to your table. Jahlani smiles and kisses your forehead.

“You did amazing, my love.” He kisses your cheek afterwards.

You giggle and you sip your drink and your eyes shift to Lakeith. His eyes are still burning in your soul as if your performance was a sin. You roll your eyes and kiss Jahlani— only to fuel the flames even more.

Lakeith stares at the interaction between you and Jahlani for a bit— clenching hard onto his drink. Then he just laughs and shakes his head. He smirks and walks to your table.

“So this is my replacement. Your ‘light at the end of the tunnel’ huh?” He says, looking at Jahlani, unamused. “Cute.”

“Why are you over here? Shouldn’t you be finding your next victim or something?” You cross your arms and take a sip of your drink.

“You are my victim, baby.” He smirks and pours himself a shot of Henny on the table. “I’ll see you in a few, baby.”

He laughs as he walks away. You look disgusted and cling onto Jahlani as a shiver goes down your spine. He caresses you and reassures you that you’ll be okay.

Only for Jahlani to leave fifteen minutes later because his neighbors inform him that his baby mama had left their two year old daughter at home by herself and she’s just crying.

The rest of the night, you listen to the rest of the performances. Your gaze would shift to Lakeith to see if he wasn’t on no funny shit— he was just looking at you, smirking.

The open mic ends and you realize your ride has left you to take care of his baby. All of your friends are already gone. You decide to walk home— even if you are in a bad spot in the city.

Then you see it. That black ‘87 GNX rolling up smoothly behind you. It starts cruising at the pace that you are walking. Your eyes are forward— ignoring the cat calls that Lakeith is doing to get your attention.

“Come on, baby girl. It’s four in the morning, you tipsy as shit. Get in the car.” He smirks.

You roll your eyes and flick him off. He chuckles and shakes his head.

“You’re so stubborn. You know that shit turns me on. Come on, girl. Get in the car.”

You shake your head and keep walking— acting as if you don’t hear or see him. But it’s hard to ignore that hum of the GNX behind, stalking you like its prey.

“Baby girl, I can do this all night. We both don’t have anywhere to be today.” He says.

“Don’t act like you ain’t been thinking about it.” His voice is smoothly dangerous— enough to make your heart drop straight to your pussy.

“Don’t give him the power. Be strong, girl. Don’t give in.”

You keep repeating to yourself in your head. But you knew your body is betraying you— telling him that you wanted him to desperately fuck you. You are wet, your thighs are shaking as you walk.

“Get in.” He says it softly, yet still as dangerous as last time.

You stop and look at him— holding the bridge of your nose. You hate that he was right. You have been thinking about him since he performed. And you wanted that moment that you had in his GNX months ago again. Even if it’s for one night.

You open the door and slide comfortably in the seat. He smirks at you and you look away. His hand instantly finds your thigh.

The radio is humming “Between the Sheets” by The Isley Brothers. You turn it up slightly. He looks at you.

“Look at you. Listening to the music I put you on.” You say to him, giggling.

He looks at you and chuckles, “You know damn well I knew this way before I met you.”

“Yeah but you wasn’t listening to it like you do now until you met me.”

He shakes his head and chuckles again, “Guilty.”

“Remember when I had your legs to the ceiling to this song as I ate you out.” He licks his lip as if he was remembering your taste.

You close your eyes and look away from him, “Yeah, yeah. Whatever.”

You cross your arms and bob your head to the music. He chuckles and his hand creeps higher up your thigh. You slightly moan at the touch as goosebumps form on your arm.

Your head rests against the leather seat, pretending to be calm. But between the liquor, his words, his touch, and the song choices of the night, you were ready to give it up to him.

His hand slips under your shorts and he rubs your sensitive clit through your slick covered panties, “You need me.”

You grab the seat and arch your body up, “Fuck yes. I need you, Lakeith. Stop fucking around.”

He smirks, “That’s all I wanted you to say.”

Minutes later, the car slows down and turns onto a quiet street. You glance out the window, confused. Why is he bringing you to a neighborhood? He pulls the car into a driveway. You look around, then at him.

“Is this… is this your place?” You ask him, your voice betraying how shocked you are. You always fucked Lakeith in cheap motels, alleyways, or in the bathroom of open mic.

He turns the car off and shifts his body to look at you, “Yeah, this is my place.”

“You ain’t trying to kill me, right?” You look at him and slowly back up, hand instantly on the doorknob.

He laughs loud, “Girl, calm your superstitious ass down.” He shakes his head, “It’s a first time for everything. You safe… for now.”

His hand finds his way to your clit again and your body instantly shivers as you moan again.

⋆｡°✩☁︎✩°｡⋆

“Oh fuck!” You moan out as you feel his tongue brush against your clit. You grip the sheets and look back at him.

“Get back to suck this dick, baby girl.” He groans.

You couldn’t. He is eating you in the best way possible— nice and slow. His head turns side to side with every lick and suck he gives you. His hands travel up your back to your hips— pulling you closer to his face.

Then he pushes you back down, “Suck it, baby.” He demands you.

You wrap your tongue against his tip before taking him whole inside your mouth. Momentarily, he stops eating you to groan as you bob your head to match the pace of him eating you out— nice and slow and sloppy.

He resumes eating your pussy— making you moan around his shaft. He slowly fucks your throat and you being to grind your body slowly against his face.

Neither of you were in a rush. You both were making up time for the past four months of craving each other’s body and taste again.

“God, you taste so fucking good, baby girl. I miss your sweet pussy.” He groans.

You close your eyes as his words make your clit throb a bit more than it already was.

The pleasure is building up and he’s gripping on your hips tightly making it impossible to run away. You start to whine as your body begins to tremble. He smirks, knowing exactly what it meant. His tongue presses harder on your spot and your moans get louder— let him know you need to come. But he isn’t far behind you— his dick is twitching in your mouth. So you bob your head faster to get it out of him at the same time as you.

Your hands travel to his thighs as you start to grind your waist on him faster. Heat travels fast through your body, and before you knew it you were coming.

He groans and you smile as you know you are about to get a treat. You start sucking on his tip as his hips jerk up and he cums in your mouth. You giggle as you swallow and look back at him. He shakes his head and smacks your ass hard.

“Shit! You’re so nasty.” He chuckles.

“You like it.” You smile at him.

He moves you off him— laying you on your stomach. He gets you in the perfect arch position and starts rubbing on your ass. He guides his tip against your clit.

“Beg me. Beg me for this dick. Tell me how much you missed me and you’re sorry for not giving me this pussy.”

You pause for a moment. You know damn well he didn’t just say that when he was the one who ghosted you. But … slightly it turned you on, especially with how slow he is rubbing himself against.

“I’m so sorry, Lakeith. I didn’t mean to not give you this pussy.” You whine a bit.

He puts his tip inside you, “Mm, you sure, baby?” And slowly slides the rest in, “I mean you didn’t call me or text me.”

You bury your face in his sheets and moan. Then, you turn your head to the side, “Yes, yes. I’m so sorry I didn’t call you baby.”

He slowly pulls out and you whimper at the emptiness, “Did you not miss me?” He smirks and smacks your ass hard— resuming rubbing his tip around your entrance.

“Fuck! Yes, yes! Lakeith, I missed you so much. I missed you and that dick. Please, give it to me.” You whimper frantically.

He groans as he drags his tip slowly across your entrance, “Since you apologized so nicely.”

He slowly slides all the way inside you and starts fucking you slow and deep. “Damn, I missed this fucking pussy the most.”

You grip the sheets and keep looking back at him, moaning. He makes sure you feel every inch of his dick— while also savoring your wet and tight pussy.

“I missed you, Lakeith. I missed you so much.” You whine as you raise your ass up even more.

He smack your ass, “I fuck you better than that other nigga, don’t I?”

“Yes, Lakeith. You fuck me better than him.” You moan softly. “I only need you and your dick.”

“That’s my fucking girl.” He groans, “Been acting like you weren’t mine. Now I have to teach this pussy.” He pulls out of you slowly again.

He looks at your pussy for a while, debating if he should just wreck you, or make it to where you don’t want any other man. Just him. He smirks. He loves the second option better.

He slams back into you. You gasp and close your eyes tightly. You start moaning loud, tears fill your eyes. He starts slamming his hip hard against your ass.

You start falling off the bed running, but he doesn’t care. He’s following you as you fall. His hands on your hips pulling you closer to him. You try to put your hand on his stomach to stop him. Just for a moment.

He just removes your hand from his stomach and pulls you up by your hair and holds your body tightly against his, “Stop running from this dick.”

You lay head on his shoulder and moan in his ear— getting him more excited. His free hand snakes around and finds its way to your clit. He starts rubbing it fast. You feel yourself clenching around him tightly.

“Ah! I’m going to come again!” You groan and your breathing gets harder.

His nails grip deeper in your hips, “Tell me who owns this pussy. Telling me that it’s my pussy. And only mine.” He kisses your neck and licks from your neck to your ear.

“You own this pussy, Lakeith! No one else. It’s your pussy.” You whimper.

He nods, “Such a good girl for me. Come for me.”

As soon as he says that, your body starts trembling even more as you have your second orgasm of the night.

But he doesn’t stop. In fact, he keeps pounding inside of you— faster and harder. His bedroom is filled with wet skin clapping and your filthy moans. You met with another orgasm in just a few seconds from your second one.

You feel him slow down as he fills you up with his come. You instantly collapse on the bed. He waits a while before he pulls out to watch you leak out.

You roll over on your back and he lays next to you and looks at you.

“Shit. I missed that.” He says, smiling at you.

“I missed it too.” You sigh and lay on his chest.

He rubs your arm and smiles, “I usually ain’t no gentleman after sex. But the way I fucked you. I guess I can be a little sweet.”