Searching for my Great Perhaps ♡

Now that she had time to think about it, this was a really bad idea.

The planning of her birthday trip; The aligning of their schedules; The flight down to Miami; The day at the beach; The evening at the casino; The night at the club. It was all one giant bad idea after another, but at this point, there was no turning back.

Months ago, Annie sat down with her friends to pitch this idea: A Dirty Thirty down in Miami. It sounded amazing at the time, and way better than the short drive down to Biloxi. With a trip to Florida, she’d get blue water and sunshine—not whatever land-locked nonsense was happening on the Coast. They’d all agreed—Smoke, Stack and Mary, Pearline and Sammie, Bo and Grace, Cornbread and Therise—and finally the week of the trip was upon them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

day one

“You know this finna be a hot mess, right,” Smoke groaned with one hand on the steering wheel. The other sat comfortably between his wife’s thighs, cushioned by her heat. All he wanted was a good birthday trip for his baby, but with Stack involved, it was going to be anything but.

“It’ll be fine, Smokey,” the woman rolled her eyes. They had all decided to book the same flight from Memphis to Miami, and since her husband refused to be in a car with any of their friends, they were driving from Clarksdale separately. The other group was already way ahead of them, having left earlier in the morning. They'd assured the woman of an early arrival at the airport. “You just gotta stop bein’ so negative,” Annie commented, chuckling at something on her phone. Her fingers moved rapidly, and before Smoke knew it, Annie was turning the camera toward him and snapping a picture.

“What the hell was that,” the man huffed in annoyance.

“Nothing,” the woman feigned, but as a notification pinged on her phone, whatever she read made her cackle louder.

“See,” Smoke groaned with a shake of his head. His grip on the wheel tightened because when he looked over, he saw Annie’s messages. The phone beamed with the name of the girl’s group chat, Top Five, a picture of him dancing amongst letters and crying emojis. “Knew y’all asses was gon’ be on some bullshit.”

“Oh, come on, Papa,” Annie pouted, reaching over to touch his chest. She watched as his eyebrows fluttered from the name, only spurring her on. She didn’t care that he was driving, didn’t care that they’d arrive in Memphis in thirty minutes. She only cared about alleviating a little of his pain. “You promised you’d be in a good mood for my birthday.”

“I know, baby,” Smoke sighed, sinking into the seat as his wife’s hands fluttered down his chest. “I’ll be better,” he promised. “I’ll be better for you.”

Hands making their way inside of his sweats, the woman smiled at how calm his breathing had gotten. Smoke would do whatever Annie asked him to. She knew he wasn’t a people person, knew his idea of a vacation was going to museums and shit. She was asking a lot from him, and she appreciated his effort.

“I know you will,” she purred, grabbing a handful of him. She kissed his neck, right where a bulging vein was nestled, before whispering in his ear. “You mind if I take part of my birthday present now, Papa?”

The man who stepped inside of the airport was not the man from thirty minutes ago, and Annie couldn’t have been more proud of herself.

She had already concluded that this five day trip would consist of day drinking, beach going, casino food eating, and making it up to her man that she had taken him out of his element. But he’d be fine. She walked beside him with confident steps as he handled the baggage. His shoulders were soft now. His scowl was gone. His eyes were bright. And whenever impatience grew in his chest from the long TSA line, Annie bumped his shoulder with hers and he was a blushing mess once again.

“You want a snack or drink or anything before we get on the plane, baby,” the man questioned as he walked them and their carry-ons to their terminal. He was going to treat Annie like VIP this week—not that he didn’t already do that.

But he found the woman typing at her phone vigorously, eyebrows tight in anger.

“Everything okay,” the man questioned as she stopped walking altogether. “Annie,” he questioned when she still hadn’t responded. He touched her jaw lightly, forcing her eyes on him.

“They in traffic,” she whispered as if the volume of her voice could make the situation more dire.

“What,” Smoke asked gruffly, and Annie simply turned the phone in his direction.

“They wanted to see the damn pyramid, and now they in traffic tryna get here from downtown,” she blurted out, huffing at how annoying her friends could be.

“This exactly why I didn’t wanna drive with none of them,” her husband rumbled, marching them through the airport and to their terminal. “You can’t knock sense into them fools, and I just know my brother came up with that stupid idea.” They had promised that they’d be here on time, but when they left hours before him and his wife that morning, he should have known better. Their flight was set to board in fifteen minutes, set to depart in forty five, and with traffic and TSA, they’d be lucky if this didn’t end up just being a baecation.

In his anger, Smoke hadn’t looked at Annie once, but if he had, he’d see the tears building in her eyes. The woman quickly wiped at the tear before he could witness it, stuffing her irritation down.

“You okay, Mama,” Smoke asked gently when they found a seat, because even if he hadn’t known she was crying, he knew this would bring her a kind of sad frustration that could ruin this whole week for her. His hand reached for hers, and she accepted it.

“It’s fine,” Annie replied wetly, refusing to look him in the eyes. Instead, she played with his jewelry—his wedding band and the string of a friendship bracelet their daughter had made him. Thinking of the child back at home with Annie’s mother only made her sadder. “I’ll be okay,” she reasoned. Her shoulders rolled back. Her head leveled itself. “It’s my birthday, and I’m goin’ on a trip that my man paid for.”

Smoke nodded sharply, noticing how she still refused to look his way. He hummed to affirm her words.

“And you gon’ fly First Class,” he whispered in her ear, already anticipating the display of gratitude. He’d been handling all the operations; He’d booked flights and hotel rooms and had handled the tickets up until now. He handed hers over, watching the smile take over her face. “I’m sure they’ll make it in time,” he decided assuredly, “but even if they don’t, we gon’ have a good trip.”

“Put pedal to the medal, nigga,” Cornbread barked from the second row. Traffic had just broke, and Stack had that sprinter van on two wheels trying to get to the airport and parked in time. He had indeed come up with the brilliant idea to see the pyramid. They had two hours until they boarded, and all he wanted to do was get to the very top and look out across downtown Memphis.

When he suggested it, everyone—accept Pearline and Grace—were down for the idea, but now, he had Mary, Sammie, Therise, Cornbread, and Bo yelling in his ear, too.

“You don’ ruined our best friend’s birthday, dumbass,” Pearline roared from the furthest row back.

“Annie my best friend, too,” Stack argued nonsensically. But this wasn’t an issue of who was who to who. The problem was that they were running out of time to get there, and no matter what had happened or who had caused it, they all had a whole lot of making up to do.

First Class boarding was called over the loud speaker, urging Annie and Smoke out of their seats. The man handled their carry-ons once more, and as their tickets were scanned, the sound of loud shuffling and yelling pulled their attention away.

Nearly 100 feet away, their friends were booking it toward the terminal, bags and tickets waving in hand. They looked ridiculous and dysfunctional, and even though Annie was upset with them, she couldn’t fight the laugh tearing from her chest.

“What’s up, bestie,” Stack nearly shouted, walking up to Annie’s seat in First Class. He had waited the unbearable minutes for the seatbelt light to go off, and as soon as it did, he was on the move. He had in his hand a little shot-sized bottle of Hennessy, placing it on Annie’s lap tray.

“Leave me alone, Elias,” Annie growled, eyes remaining on the book in her hands. Across the aisle, her husband huffed out a laugh, knowing his brother was going to get nowhere.

Stack's palm landed on his chest, absolutely appalled.

“Oh, come on, girl,” he choked out. His voice dipped, sad and unbelieving. “You only use my birth name when you mad,” he offered.

“Mhm,” the woman nodded sharply. She flipped the page of her book, and he watched her read vigorously.

“You mad at me,” he questioned wetly.

“Mhm,” she hummed once more.

“Really,” he asked again.

“Yep,” she answered back, popping the last consonant of the word. Stack held his hands up, unsure how to approach the situation. His go to move would be to annoy her, and as long as they’d been friends, he definitely knew how to do that, but she was giving him no energy. He knew he’d fucked up real bad this time.

“Come on, Anna Mae—” He tried once more but was swiftly interrupted.

“Leave my wife alone, boy,” the older twin argued. “You’ve upset her enough.”

Glares were sent across the aisle. A nearby flight attendant bit back a laugh.

“Fine,” the younger twin groaned, exhaling deeply. He turned to Annie with a remorseful gaze. His tone shifted serious before he mustered a soft I’m sorry and returned to his own seat.

The cabin was reinstated to its former quiet, the woman’s book tucked between her palms, her husband fumbling with the music he had saved on his phone. Reaching across the aisle, she grabbed ahold of his hand.

“Thank you,” Annie whispered, tangling their fingers. She calmed at the sound of his soft hum.

The drive from Miami International Airport to the hotel was quiet—eerily so. Smoke had arranged transportation for everyone, and with a sharp look, they all understood to keep their mouths shut. Annie had her sunglasses on and her airpods in, tuning out everyone who wasn’t her husband because she simply wasn’t in the mood.

When the plane landed, she’d seen a message from her mother: She wanted me to show you this, it had read, along with a picture her daughter had drawn of their little family. Smoke. Annie. Their babygirl. Standing in the middle of the prettiest field of flowers she’d ever seen. Showing the drawing to her husband brought tears to his eyes and an equal melancholy to her heart.

This grand idea of a birthday trip has been sparked because as she looked over her thirty years of living, Annie realized she hadn’t done enough for her liking. The past few years had been dedicated to working and wifing and mothering, and although she didn’t regret a thing, she simply wished she’d had more fun. But now, a thousand miles away from home, she missed the comfort she knew.

“We’re gonna have fun,” her husband reached over, comforting her with a hand on her thigh. “Babygirl will be there when we get back. And I’m sure we’ll be gettin’ her a bunch of li’l souvenirs, too.”

The night concluded with a family dinner down in the hotel’s restaurant. It was hearty and delicious and all put on Smoke’s room because he loved his wife and wanted her birthday to be as carefree as he could make it. Their friends sat around the table with terrified gazes, and as dessert was finished, they each prepared their apology.

“We’re sorry, girl,” Pearline started off.

“Yeah, we were bein’ inconsiderate,” Sammie continued.

“We weren’t thinkin’ straight,” Bo informed regretfully.

“You didn’t deserve to have your birthday start out with such a mess,” Therise reasoned, passing the proverbial mic.

“‘Cause we know how important this is even outside of it bein’ a celebration of you,” Cornbread gulped.

“We love you, Anne,” Mary announced. “We’re family.”

“And we promise to act right for the rest of the week, bestie,” Stack acquiesced, turning toward the final person at the table.

Grace rolled her eyes.

“Me and Pearl told y’all asses that we didn’t have time to go to the pyramid,” the woman argued, pulling groans from everyone at the table. Hands flew up in annoyance, heads turned at tables nearby, and Smoke just shook his head at their nonsense. “I ain’t have shit to do with this, but whatever,” Grace huffed. Her eyes flitted over to the woman who was meant to be receiving her apologies. Noticing the quirk of her lip and the way her arms crossed beneath her chest, Grace conceded. “We’ll do whatever it takes to make it better, Annie. We promise.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

day two

The start to the day was enough to convince Annie that the worst was definitely behind her.

She woke up in the Presidential Suite to breakfast in bed and a shirtless Smoke laid out beside her. After each bite of her food, her husband rewarded her with a strikingly deep thrust of his hips. He cited the lack of hours in the day, how he wanted to leave time for other things, how he needed to cater to every one of her needs—starting with this. She fluttered around him as strawberry jam tickled her pallet. The taste of runny egg yolk planted itself in her memory right alongside the image of Smoke cumming deep inside of her.

The day only brightened from there. After showering with her husband, she toweled dry and dressed herself in a devilishly skimpy sundress. All summer she’d been upset because she hadn’t tanned her legs enough, and this week, she grew a renewed commitment to her goal. She’d been surprised by her husband’s acceptance of the attire—thighs out, titties out—but it was her birthday trip, so she could do whatever she wanted.

“Here you go, Mama,” the man extended his arm, a neatly dressed box sitting in his palm. Inside held a pair of David Yurman earrings—18 karat, yellow gold, small hoops with diamonds embossed into the edges. Annie stared at them wide eyed because, in her mind, the trip was her birthday gift. She hadn’t been prepared to receive anything more from her husband than his time, but she was nowhere near surprised. This was the type of man she married—the one who went above and beyond for her happiness.

Annie spread kisses along his jaw, beaming over at him in thanks.

The day only got better from there.

A call home to her daughter. A shopping trip with her girls. A calming afternoon by the pool. A few small smiles and sharp nods when drinks were sent their way by strangers as they sunbathed. It was all perfect—until it wasn’t.

Fifty feet away on the opposite side of the pool, a group of five guys sized the women up. They ranged in stature—tall, short, slim, round, muscular. It was as if they were a far less interesting version of their own men, and that’s why when the five of them walked over, none of the ladies gave them the time of day.

“Y’all lookin’ real pretty over here,” the obviously slick talking one of the group announced. His eyes bounced over the ladies as they spread out across their loungers, looking at them like they were five flavors of ice cream he just couldn’t wait to try. “Y’all enjoy the drinks we sent over here?”

Nestled between her friends, Mary tutted, mouth shut.

They all knew how good they looked: Mary in a red and white polka dot bikini; Pearline in a black one piece with diamonds cut out at her chest and stomach; Grace with a bandana wrapped around her chest and a skirt sitting low on her hips; Therise in a purple tankini and dark washed booty shorts; And Annie in a light blue stringed two piece that left little to the imagination.

They looked good, but they weren’t looking for unwanted attention.

“They were fine,” Pearline crooned in response, eyes closed as she focused on her comfort above all else. The rest of the women did the same: politely responding with no further action.

“You got a nice voice,” the youngest of the group of men spoke, sporting a frail yet overconfident smile that didn’t falter even when Pearline refused to acknowledge him.

Beside her, Annie snorted a laugh, removing her sunglasses to read her book better. The men were blocking the sun, casting shadows across the pages and the sunbathing women.

“Y’all want some company,” the largest of the men questioned, smile far too jovial. Therise rolled her eyes.

“Naw,” she replied indignantly.

“You sure,” another man spoke up. He was slim with an easiness to his posture that felt unnatural.

Grace responded in turn with her own sharp denial.

Annie, with her eyes locked on the pages of her book, could feel another pair of eyes on her. They were low and focused, cutting through her like they could reach inside of her to pull her deepest secrets out. She glanced up to find the fifth and final man staring her down. He’d been quiet this entire time, allowing his friends to talk while he just watched. It reminded her of someone she knew.

“Can I help you with something,” Annie growled. She sat her book to the side, looking up at the man who refused to give her her face back. Conversation halted around them, the rest of the group glancing back and forth to see what would happen next.

“Just admirin’ you, baby,” he exhaled in a gruff manner. His eyes were cool, too empty for her to look at for long.

“Don’t baby me,” the woman argued. “We tryna chill. Y’all can’t read the fuckin’ room.” She waved her hand around at the scene: five women who were previously enjoying a quiet, calm afternoon who were now being inconvenienced.

“We tryna chill, too,” the slick talker squawked. “And y’all sexy asses look like a good ass time to me.”

“Nigga, if y’all don’t move on somewhere,” Annie reared back, on the verge of rising from her lounge chair to admonish them. Before she could do so, however, she saw her husband advancing in their direction, Stack, Sammie, Bo, and Cornbread right beside him.

She settled back into her chair, worked her jaw, fought to calm her body because if Smoke sensed any of her upset, he was sure to bring hell on earth.

“Y’all alright over here, Mama,” the man asked as soon as he was in a good enough distance for his words to be heard. His chest was puffed out, biceps flexing.

“They good,” answered the man who’s demeanor reminded her too much of her husband. They traded glaring expressions, eyes full of hatred and possession and warning.

“Nigga, I ain’t talkin’ to you,” Smoke pointed at his chest, getting up in his face. “I’m talkin’ to my wife.” But the largest man of the opposing group laughed it off.

“We just talkin,” he dismissed.

“Ain’t no harm in that,” the slick talker spilled.

“We say whether harm been done, you fuck ass scrub,” Stack chest bumped the man while Smoke eyed the entire group.

“You aight, Anne,” Smoke questioned heavily. His tone was dense, a sound she knew quite well. Years with the man had taught her how he got just before a storm hit—literally and figuratively. With the way tension settled around them, she knew this was the calm just before.

“We good now, baby,” Annie responded, voice turning sweet to help alleviate her husband’s anxiety. “Just tryna enjoy the sun.” The group of women grunted because the sun that they’d been trying to enjoy was still being blocked—ten bodies in their way now.

“Can y’all step to the side with all that testosterone and hostility, please,” Pearline shooed them away with her hand. She adjusted her sunglasses, pursed her lips, settled into her lounger like the picture perfect example of unbothered.

And if, from there, the altercation shifted as husbands and boyfriends worked to rid the disturbance around their women—and if the altercation advanced to include a few loaded threats and a whole lot of pushing—then it was completely and utterly justified.

Annie nursed her husband’s swollen knuckles, dapping rubbing alcohol into the torn skin.

“Fuck, woman,” Smoke hissed as the sharp chemical did it’s job at disinfecting his wounds. His wife rolled her eyes, grabbing the ice she’d retrieved from down the hall.

“Ain’t my fault that you put yo’ hands on them,” she shrugged. She tended to him harder than she cared to amend. This wasn’t the first time she’d cared for his battle wounds, and this wasn’t the last time he’d be defending her honor. She huffed at the realization of it. “You better be glad they threw the first punch or yo’ ass wouldn’t been tryna get bailed out of Miami-Dade County.”

“Whatever,” he tsked. He exhaled deeply, chest rising with air and emotion. Now he’d gone and done it: ruining Annie’s birthday just when things got on track.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

day three

“That fool need to sit down somewhere before he drown,” Therise chided, looking out toward her husband who was pretending to be washed out to sea. The tide was high today. The sun was bright with few clouds streaking the sky. It was the perfect time for a beach day.

Like any other beach trip the group had taken to Biloxi or Orange Beach, the crew had stopped by the grocery store, grabbing snacks and drinks and things to make sandwiches when they got hungry. A cold sandwich on a hot day near water was better than anything they could get from one of the local shops. Corralled together, the entire group ate while watching Cornbread and Stack act out a scene from some shipwreck movie.

“They look like mermaids out there,” Smoke grumbled, sitting shoulder to shoulder with his wife. He grinned lowly at the cackle she let out—loud and full of life. The water-going pair had gone on to pretend they were in a baptismal pool.

"Ugly ass mermaids," Bo jabbed, nose upturned. The group chortled, bumping into each other as they laughed unabashedly. Sammie nudged the man's shoulder. Grace tossed her head back to laugh. Pearline held her stomach in an attempt to calm herself.

"Don't do my man," Therise chastised.

"Right," Mary concurred. "My Stack is a sexy mermaid."

"If that's what you wanna call it," Annie giggled as she watched Stack put Cornbread in a headlock. He jumped on the man's back, laughing haughtily—arrogant and boisterous. Quickly, the play-fighting became rough, shifting from mermaids to a full on WWE smackdown. Cornbread fell face first into the water as Stack shouted out in victory, only quieting when Cornbread emerged a second later to drag the smaller man under.

The group watched on with annoyed gazes because they'd been this way since they were kids, taking shit too far and eventually hurting each other.

Smoke was on his feet in a second, meeting Bo's eye as a confirmation that they had to break this shit up before it got too serious. Stack was uppercutting the larger man while Cornbread was dodging the hits, picking Stack up and dropping him in the water.

"Aye! Cut that shit out," Smoke shouted, voice rising above the nonsense in his sickly paternal tone. The women—and Sammie—judged the display as Smoke tackled Stack and Bo attempted to tackle Cornbread. It was petty shit, a side of the men that annoyed them all, but they had to put up with it. With as long as they'd been friends—family, even—they'd fought like brothers, so as Smoke and Bo wrangled the other two, they simply shook their heads and looked the other way.

"Testosterone," Pearline groused, voice lilting in disgust.

"We need to take a trip just us girls next time," Mary suggested before turning to her side. "Sorry, Li'l Sammie."

"It's okay," the young man laughed good-naturedly, advancing to the shoreline to help pull a coughing Stack from the water.

The women continued to talk about their hypothetical man-free vacation—and all the sneaky things they could get up to far away from their watchful gazes.

"I can't believe y'all was just gon' let me drown like that," Stack bickered childishly, arms crossed beneath his chest. They'd been hearing his complaining since he made it back from the water, squawking about rights and wrongs and how family is supposed to be there for you no matter what. Even now, as they walked into the brightly lit casino, he prattled on about what had happened at the beach.

"You were fine," Therise mumbled, eyes on a row of slot machines in the far left corner.

Annie bumped her hip against his, throwing him a playful glare.

"Elijah wouldn't have let you die, Stack," she reminded him, enough knowledge of the twins' life together to know that Smoke would sooner die than let his brother meet that same end. The moment turned sentimental as the quiet understanding settled between them. But, as always, it didn't last for long.

"That's what you get for fuckin' wit' me," Cornbread shouted cockily.

"Negro, please," Stack flailed, riled up again. He pointed around the group. His mouth spat fire. "All y'all full of shit! That's why I'm finna be takin’ all y'all money tonight."

"You ain't takin' shit," Bo answered boastfully. Grace humphed beside her husband, tone just as boastfully.

"Especially not if me and my Bo playin'," she declared.

"Damn," Stack clutched his metaphorical pearls. His head practically spun. "It's like that, Grace," he asked the woman, "it's really like that now?"

She shrugged with a teasing smirk, walking away and toward a poker table. Bo followed right behind her. And Stack, of course, ran to make it to the table before either of them could.

“A damn fool,” Smoke grunted. He shook his head, arm circling his wife’s waist. “What table you wanna hit first, Mama,” the man questioned, simply enthralled by how much there was to do. He leaned into her neck, capturing the scent of her. The second birthday gift he’d given her was a newly released Cartier perfume. It was herbal and dark and alluring in a way that suited his wife perfectly. She’d loved the gift enough to wear it tonight, and he loved it so much that he couldn’t get enough of the way it smelled on her skin.

“Maybe Roulette,” she pondered, leaning forward to whisper in her husband’s ear. “But I’m really just ready to get back to the room. You look so good tonight, Papa.”

As much as Smoke hated vacations where he was forced to be around a whole bunch of people with minimal real relaxing, the man was exhibiting a very calm aura. Annie suspected it was because he wanted to make sure her trip went well, so whenever he got upset, he’d school himself into a better mood. Annie felt it deserved some type of reward.

“Well, we can head back whenever you ready, baby,” he responded huskily, scooping her up in his arms. He knew that tone of voice, that look in her eye.

“Later,” she hummed, looking off behind him at their family scattered across the casino now. Cornbread had wound up at the seafood buffet. Bo and Grace were beating Stack out of every bit of his money as Mary watched on in horror. Pearline and Sammie were on their way to a private karaoke room. And Therise had set up shop at the slot machines where she’d probably be sat for the next few hours. Annie kissed her husband’s neck, right behind his ear. “For now,” she whispered lowly, “I got money to win.”

And win money she did.

Annie bet on black and the same two numbers every single round—her daughter’s birthday. Her husband sat back amazed because being the numbers man that he was, he would have never done such a thing. He would have been in his head calculating the best plays and the highest chances of winning, but his Annie could just feel it. He adored and admired how much she trusted herself, and when she finally decided that she’d had enough, she walked away with over three thousand dollars worth of winnings.

“Damn, that was so sexy,” Smoke breathed into her left ear, pulling her deep into his hold. He couldn’t get enough of his woman, and he needed her to know that every second of every day. He looked down at his watch, noticing the hour hand ticking closer and closer to midnight. “Let’s go cash in,” he urged, dragging her behind him. Annie tipped her head back with a laugh because she knew exactly where this renewed spirit was coming from.

“I told yo’ ass we was gon’ ring yo’ birthday in the right way, didn’t I,” Smoke grunted, hoisting the woman into his arms and pressing her back into the door. Annie was fully in the air—legs wrapped around his waist, arms folded around his neck, dress shimmied up her thighs. Her husband, head clouded by delivering her pleasure, yanked the top of her dress down. He buried his face in her chest. “Love these damn titties,” he moaned drunkenly. “These my fuckin’ titties.”

“They yours, baby,” Annie moaned in agreement, holding the back of his head as he ravaged her. She could feel him growing in his starched-straight pants. All she wanted was to be taken care of now. It was almost her birthday for crying out loud. “Lay me down, ‘Lijah,” she slurred. She tugged at the back of his shirt, shook his shoulders, but nothing moved him. He only growled into her flesh, biting down on her left titty because that was his favorite one. “Please, Papa,” Annie whined as she writhed beneath his mouth. “I need to feel that dick in me.”

The declaration was raw as her annoyance ripped right through her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

day four

So, technically, the day began with Smoke fucking his wife against a door because he had promised to start her birthday off right. The clock had struck midnight, but neither of them would be getting rest anytime soon.

“Yeah, give me that pussy,” the man demanded, bouncing Annie up and down the length of him. The woman was dazed. Being pressed between her man’s hard chest and the wood of the door had her body threatening to fall apart. And she was ready to let it happen because she knew he’d be able to keep her together with ease.

She moaned his name into the ceiling, gripping onto his shoulders to stay upright. Each stroke was calculated, firmly determined to make her cum with reckless abandon.

The woman thought back to her original goal for this birthday trip: having fun, experiencing new things, and creating memories. This was surely a moment she’d never forget because as she buried her head in her husband’s neck, allowing her body to fall apart in his hold, the memory became cemented in her mind.

She recovered quickly, renewed and reenergized by the feeling of her husband throbbing against her walls. She tapped his bicep for her to be let down. She padded across the floor to the bed. She removed the remainder of her clothing. And she directed him to lay down, grinning wickedly when he obeyed.

“You so good to me, Papa,” she moaned, rubbing her hands up the length of his legs. She admired the way he’d spread out across the bed, large arms taking up space, shoulders broad, hips narrow, thighs flexed in anticipation. She caressed him there, soothing his rapidly turning mind.

When her tongue swirled around the tip of his dick, they both let out a moan: Smoke from the feeling of his wife—wet and warm; Annie from the taste of her husband—musky and so much like herself. She couldn’t hold back any longer as she eyed the way he fisted the sheets, and when she took him down the back of her throat, he only beared down harder.

Annie was swallowing him in a way she hadn’t in a long time. Her need was insatiable, derived from her desire to make the best of this trip. She wanted them both to remember this. Remember how well she’d taken him. Remember how violently he trembled beneath her. Remember how quickly she made him cum.

He erupted without much warning, holding her head down to the base of him as she continued to bob her head. She liked when the pleasure got too much and turned into something else. She liked having him squirming and crying out for the torture to end.

When he recovered, skin slick with sweat and eyes clouded by lust, he switched their roles with ease. Snatching her up in his arms, Smoke threw Annie onto her back, falling between her open knees.

“You think you run shit,” he mumbled just as his lips found her clit. He didn’t warm her up, didn’t dare attempt to tease; He sucked her clit harshly and ridiculously, pulling the button into his mouth like he was owed the sensation, owed the revenge of his wife shaking on his tongue, too.

The woman lost her mind when the sucking turned sloppy.

Smoke was down at her entrance, slurping and spitting and slobbing all over her pussy so dizzyingly that it had tears forming in her eyes. He’d correctly recognized her attempt at fucking him so good that neither of them could forget it, and he wanted to join in on that game. Who cared if it was probably two in the morning by now? Who cared if they were disturbing anyone else’s sleep? They had things to do and bets to match.

Smoke was two orgasms into eating his wife at this point when his fingers joined the assault. Tongue situated on her hard clit and fingers stroking her walls with practiced ease, the man brought her body to a third climax, drinking every bit of cum he’d facilitated.

The woman above him was spent, body lovingly loosened by the hands and tongue and dick of her husband just because it was her birthday and she’d get whatever she wanted out of him. The man reached down, stroking his length as he watched her come back into her own body. Sweat beaded down her forehead, trickled between her breasts. The sight alone had him on the verge of orgasm, but then she moved to cover herself with a blanket—exhausted.

“I’ll give ya’ ten minutes,” he explained gruffly, breath heavy and face covered in her, “but then I’m gon’ need ya’ to ride this dick, Mama.” He emphasized the message with a smack to her ass. And groaning, Annie watched a butt-naked Smoke walk out of the bedroom to retrieve her a glass of water.

It’s safe to say that Annie and Smoke woke up late as hell, causing them to miss the breakfast reservation he’d made for her at a spot she’d been wanting to try for months. The moment his eyes opened to notice how bright it was in the suite’s living room—where they had inevitably ended up sleeping after winding up fucking on the couch—he knew he’d fucked up.

A pounding at the door shook the remaining sleep from his body, putting him on high alert. He covered a half sleep Annie with a blanket, finding his own boxers and throwing them on.

“What you want, nigga,” the man shouted as he yanked the door open to find his brother with an annoyed expression. Behind him stood the rest of the group, all looking some version of exhausted or hungover or pissed off. But that ain’t have shit to do with him.

“We been callin’ y’all asses,” Stack groaned, pushing his brother to the side and entering the suite. Smoke watched stunned as they all allowed themselves entry, crowding into the living room where a once sleeping Annie was now nowhere to be found.

“We haven’t just been callin,” Mary argued.

“We been callin’, textin’, dmin’,” Therise announced.

“We even tried stalkin’ y’all phone locations but couldn’t get anything,” Pearline grumbled.

“Y’all really gotta charge y’all phones, man,” Sammie shook his head.

But Smoke just simply rolled his eyes, finding his pants from the night before and throwing them on.

“We ain’t gotta do shit,” he grunted. “Y’all ain’t our parents.”

“Y’all went missin’ last night, Smoke,” Grace interrupted in jest.

“And nobody could find you,” Bo concluded.

“And y’all missed breakfast,” Cornbread barked, clearly ready to rub it in his face how good the restaurant was.

Behind him, Smoke could hear the shower running, and all he could think about was his wife. In the shower. Naked.

“Y’all gotta go,” he informed in feigned sadness. In his attempts to usher them out of the door, more arguments sparked, more pointed questions about their whereabouts and why they left in the first place and what they’d been doing until now.

“I mean it’s damn near noon,” Stack erupted, looking at his brother incredulously. His head cocked to the side. His eyes squinted. His head turned with potential reasons before one stuck the landing. “Oh, y’all nasty as hell,” he yelled, jumping up off the couch and looking around the room. Last night clothes littered the floor, Annie’s panties strewn across a lamp shade in the corner. They’d all been too annoyed and exhausted and food coma-ed to recognize the state of the room. But Stack could see it clearly now. “Y’all was fuckin’ on this couch,” he questioned in disgust and disbelief and something close to betrayal. The feeling only worsened as Smoke put his head in his hands and groaned.

“Oh, hell naw,” Cornbread scrambled up from a chair, pulling his wife with him.

“Y’all so damn freaky,” Pearline exhaled, standing primly as the rest of the group moved away from all surfaces with haste.

Smoke didn’t know what was worst: getting woken up but an angry mob of their family or being kept away from his wife who was just a few feet away in the bathroom. He needed them gone, needed her to himself.

Just as he opened his mouth to muster up some bullshit excuse, the bathroom door opened, and Annie stepped out with a robe tied at the waist.

“Can y’all be literally any quieter, please,” she croaked out, throat raw from her—extracurriculars.

“Damn, Smoke,” Grace exasperated while looking at her friend astonished, “did you try to kill our girl last night?”

The whole group recognized the tiredness in the woman’s eyes, how her body sagged in delicious exhaustion, how small marks littered the neckline of her robe. Amusement filled Smoke’s system at the memories from last night: a fucked out Annie splayed across the arm of the couch, holding herself open and demanding to be fucked until she couldn’t even breathe, until she couldn’t think about anything but him.

At the sound of her husband’s firm chuckle, Annie crossed her arms beneath her chest. She settled her weight onto one foot, hip cocked to the side, eyes holding fire. The laugh died in his throat, and the memory flashed in and out behind his eyes.

“I ain’t try to kill nothing,” he mumbled beneath his breath, toying with his bracelet and avoiding her glare.

“Yeah,” Annie responded in warning. “Y’all should have seen what I did to his ass.” Smoke—trembling, writhing, begging, pleading as Annie road him past the point of both of their orgasms. Smoke—hands tied behind him and mouth stuffed with her panties as Annie edged him all night long. Smoke—passed out underneath her as Annie finally got her fill of him just before dawn.

The room feel into a hush: Pearline, Mary, Grace, and Therise smirking at their friend’s wit and Stack, Bo, Sammie, and Cornbread holding back a laugh at Smoke’s stuck expression and how he followed behind the woman like a lost puppy as she entered the bedroom.

“I’m sorry, Mama,” he apologized, shutting the door.

“Ain’t nothing to be sorry for,” Annie huffed, attempting to find an outfit to wear. She was bent over the suitcase, refusing to meet his eye, sad and pissed and livid. “I’m just annoyed at myself,” she spoke brokenly. “I really wanted to go to that restaurant.”

Smoke looked at the side of her face, emotion building in his gut from the tears rolling down her face. He’d wanted this trip to be perfect, for her birthday to be memorable and happy and stress free, but it seemed that at every turn, something was going wrong.

“How ‘bout this,” he offered, pulling her away from her suitcase and into his chest. He hugged her at the waist, kissed her neck, then her collarbone, then the top of her left breast. “How ‘bout you, me, and babygirl do our own li’l trip out this way in a few months? She gettin’ old enough to where she’ll remember stuff like this. And I saw some things that would be fun to do with her. And that way you’d get a redo of this trip and all the things we ain’t get to do.”

Today was the last full day of their vacation, and with how far out he had to make the reservation, there was no way in Hell that he’d be able to get a table before they left tomorrow afternoon. His kissed her hairline, squeezing her in his arms when she smiled wetly.

“I’ve had a good time so far, baby,” she whispered into his chest. The silence and look he gave her said enough about how shitty the trip had been, but she continued on. “All things aside,” she laughed goofily, “I’ve had a good few days with you and our family. But I’d love a trip with just us three so much.” She hugged him, breathing in his scent, letting it wrap around her.

“Yeah?” the man threw in question, searching for any reluctance in her tone. Meeting his eye, Annie nodded once, kissing the edge of his mouth.

“Yeah,” she responded, voice full and sure.

After the couple was both ready for the day, Annie’s friends sang her happy birthday and practically threw gifts into her open arms. She’d insisted on nothing too extravagant, and they had all done as she hoped. As she opened each gift, she heart swelled at how well they understood her. Boxes of rare crystal vases for her altar, packages of imported herbs, bags of random rocks and trinkets that reminded them the most of her. She felt special, cared for.

Smoke’s gift to her was also far less expensive than the previous ones, but no less valuable; It was certainly the most dear to her heart. Annie opened the gift box to find a photo album engraved with a heart across the front cover, pictures of younger versions of Annie and Smoke nestled between the pages. As she flipped through the pictures of them on their first date at eighteen years old, them cuddled up somewhere nondescript and forgotten to time, them in coordinating outfits on the way to a party in college, them kissing in front of the car Smoke had bought at twenty one, them with their hands linked at age twenty two while making vows to one another, them holding the keys to their brand new home, them bringing their daughter into that home from the hospital—it brought tears to her eyes. Photos of her and her family showed up, her and her girls, her closet friends, her confidants, her and her grandmother when she was a child, her most important achievements, her favorite adventures.

The pictures stopped midway through the book, plenty of space for more memories to be made.

She made eye contact with her husband, his face stoic, his eyes drenched with emotion.

"I want you to fill the rest of that book with everything important to you," he insisted, voice steady despite how much Annie's tears had him wanting to break. "I want you to do all the things that make you happy. I want you to go on trips and explore the world and enjoy your life because you're more than my wife and the mother to our daughter."

His words were nothing but sincere, breathing with consideration. Smoke strongly believed that he as a man could only be as happy as his wife and daughter were. Their feelings took precedence in his life, and no matter how often Annie told him it probably wasn't healthy to care more about others than he did himself, he couldn't change his ways. All his life, Stack had been the most important person to him, and now he had Annie and their babygirl to add to the mix.

The woman sat with his declaration, weighing its honesty, sorting through her own feelings. She was happy—beyond happy—because she had a good life and a strong family at her side. She felt lucky to have the things that she did, proud that she had worked so hard to get and keep them, thankful for the ways life had ironed itself out.

Every person in the room watched a singular tear fall from her eye as she reached out for her husband's hand.

"I don't know what I did to deserve this," Annie sniffled, looking each of them in the eye. "Y'all all mean so much to me."

"And you mean the world to us, hon," Pearline smiled thoughtfully.

"You know we love ya', bestie," Stack affirmed.

"And I love y'all, too," the woman concluded, squeezing her husband's hand and meeting his eyes. They traded words silently, years of knowing each other adding to their ability to speak without words. They'd had so much life together, had been through so many things, and there were only more memories to be made from here.

Day drinking was not something Annie did often, but it was her birthday and she wanted to spend her day doing reckless shit.

Mimosa after mimosa. Lemon drop after lemon drop. Shot of henny after shot of henny. The woman was beyond fucked up, but she was enjoying her day, so her friends drank alongside her and her husband nursed a sweating beer bottle while keeping an eye out for all of them.

Day drinking turned into a night of club hopping with an outfit change and a nap to reset.

When the idea of a birthday trip was proposed, Stack and Mary culled through their extensive knowledge of Miami nightclubs to ensure Annie had the best experience possible. They’d taken their job seriously, figuring out exactly how the night should start off and where it should end up.

Club number one was the tamest of all the establishments. It was sturdy with a dense base of afro beats and the tantalizing scent of weed smoke and brown liquor. It drew the group in and toward the dance floor like a moth to a flame, lighting their bodies up as they sweated through each song.

Club number two was the least crowded and the most expensive, but the food was everything they needed after a whole day of getting drunk. Annie stood at the bar top, eating her wings while rolling her hips to the music, and Smoke pressed his chest to her back. He held her at the waist and inhaled the gifted perfume off her neck. He was exactly where he wanted to be.

Stack had convinced everyone that club number three was where the night would really take a turn. They bypassed the line wrapped around the block, going straight for the bouncers. The music thumped through Annie’s chest, forcing her hips into a teasing sway because she was still feeling buzzed from her earlier drinks and she could tell that the night was about to get real interesting.

The younger twin had successfully gotten them through the doors with a wad of cash and a nod to the bouncer, and Annie couldn’t help the way her eyes widened upon entry. Tall ceilings. Second floor balconies. LED lit dance floor. Circle bar top. DJ booth. Bottle girls with sparklers. It was perfect, astonishing even, and when Stack informed the group that he’d bought them an entire section, it only got better from there.

Annie was having the time of her life. No responsibilities. No child climbing up her leg. No boss sending her emails. She danced at the roped edge of their section, throwing her body around and causing nearly the whole room to focus on her. That’s when she began getting attention.

“Damn, baby,” a rough yet feminine voice shouted above the music, pulling Annie’s mind away from the song that had her shaking ass with her friends. She leaned forward, ear towards the woman who couldn’t take her eyes off of her. “You sexy as hell, girl,” she groaned, eyeing Annie’s short dress and the way she flaunted her curves. Beside her, her girls giggled, already knowing how this was going to end.

Annie took in the other woman’s appearance: long braids down the length of her back, graphic tee with what she thought was a musician across the front, cargo shorts that stopped just past her knee, a pair of Jordans that had to be newly released. A watch littered her wrist. A chain suffocated her neck. And damn did she look good.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” Annie shook her head, dragging her admiring eyes back to the woman’s face, “but I’m married.” Wandering eyes tamed, she continued to dance. As sexy as she was, Annie’s mind had already moved on from the woman before her, the eyes that still moved the length of her body in appreciation. But then, she was pulled back in.

“I ain’t worried ‘bout no ring, Mama,” the woman laughed, voice dripping lowly. Annie’s friends laughed nervously because if she knew who their friend was married to, the woman would be singing a completely different tune. They watched as she stepped closer to the rope separating the dance floor from their section. They watched as her eyes took their fill of their friend. They searched Annie’s posture for a need for interference. They dreaded what could happen next. “I just wanna show you a good time, baby.”

Annie wasn’t no fool, and she wasn’t moved by nobody’s declarations but her own husband’s. She raised an eyebrow, inhaled a substantial breath, recoiled from the woman’s gaze toward her body. She readied herself to turn her down, but then she felt a heavy hand grip her waist, and she relaxed into her husband’s strong hold.

“She good,” Smoke intoned. His voice carried a heft, a seriousness—his cadence slow—and Annie could feel the heat beneath his skin, melting at the way it surrounded her. She knew he’d been watching the whole thing—he’d kept his eyes on her the entire night—and she appreciated that he hadn’t stepped in until now. In his mind, if she told someone once to move along and they didn’t do so, then that was cause enough reason to intervene.

Everyone held their breaths, hoping the evening didn’t devolve into something like day two by the pool, but the woman held up her hands, apologized for overstepping, and wished them a good night before leaving.

Annie, dazed and beyond intoxicated, turned in Smoke’s arms to capture his lips in a greedy kiss. She’d needed him all day—since she woke up on the couch alone with him at the door trying to get rid of their friends. And all day, he’d been doing little things that made her need for him more immediate.

Watching over her as she drank.

Holding her hand to steady her steps.

Whispering praise and happy birthday’s in her ear.

“You so good to me, Papa,” she moaned, kissing the edge of his ear. The man gripped her ass, pulling her pelvis into his and groaning at the contact.

“Cut that shit out,” he demanded distantly, not wanting her to stop but knowing it wouldn’t take much to have him surrender to her in this state. Annie kissed the length of his neck, dancing against his growing arousal. She knew it would be better later if she teased him now, so sending one more kiss to the edge of his mouth and whispering something filthy into the air, she obeyed.

“Fine,” she crooned, sauntering off to where her friends had disappeared off to. She left a dazed and wanting Smoke behind.

By the time the music was starting to bore, they were all beyond drunk. Cornbread and Therise were falling over each other laughing. Bo and Grace were dancing far less gracefully than they were known for. Stack and Mary were arguing about stupid shit from the past. Sammie and Pearline were damn near fucking in the back of the section. And Smoke and Annie had a tension growing that was sure to destroy them both the second they were allowed to be alone.

When one of them recommended the detour from their club hopping journey, everyone was on board. It got lost who’d suggested it first. Probably Stack because this was right up his alley. Probably Grace because she wanted to know if anyone was bold enough to do it. But it really didn’t matter.

They made it to the tattoo and piercing shop, drunk out of their minds and trying their best to hold it together.

Bo went first, eager to prove that he was brave enough to do it. He emerged from the back with an ace of spades tatted on his forearm.

Grace was next, deciding to get a tragus piercing in her left ear.

Then it was Sammie and Pearline. He got his ears pierced while she got a nostril piercing.

Mary went next, but when she emerged from the room, nothing had visibly changed at all. They noticed the way she tried to fix her shirt, shifting how it landed atop her chest, wincing in pain as the thin fabric stretched across what appeared to be two barbells—one on each nipple.

Stack, with wide eyes darting over Mary’s upper body, went in next, and when he emerged, his smile was thick and michevious.

“Guess what I got done,” he urged the room, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet. Each incorrect guess was turned down with a smile growing on his face. Each ask for him to turn around or lift up his shirt resulted in nothing but the tattoos he already had. Then Annie gasped.

“Oh my God, Elias,” she groaned, looking at him like he’d lost his ever loving mind because he had to have if he’d gotten that done. But she watched, horrored, as he nodded his head profusely, pointing toward his crotch.

“I got my dick pierced,” he exclaimed, pride expanding the size of the room. It had been a running joke between him and his best friend that he was a big enough whore that he should have already gotten the piercing by now, so he decided to make it a reality. Wide eyes stared back at him and mouths hung open before everyone busted out laughing.

“I know you fuckin’ lyin’,” Cornbread guffawed, holding his stomach in pain, slapping his shin and everything.

But everyone knew it was real because Stack Moore was just that crazy, and he may be a liar on occasion, but this was certainly the truth.

Therise was up next, but since she declined to get either tattoo or piercing—and was clowned for being too scared—Cornbread followed suit and stood beside his lady.

And that just left Annie and Smoke.

The couple wanted to go in separately. That annoying tension still lingered between every look and every brush to the small of a back. Trembling, Annie sat in the chair, tattooist in front of her with tired eyes and a professional disposition.

“Everything spelled correctly?” she questioned the woman, looking into Annie’s eyes for clarity because she’d been in this business long enough to know plenty of people regretted their tattoos the next morning. But with a firm nod from the birthday girl, she proceeded, applying careful pressure as she etched the tattoo into her skin.

Annie and Smoke emerged from their respective rooms at the same time, eyes meeting with a heavy need for the other. The man analyzed his wife: the ram rod straight quality to her posture, the red teariness of her eyes.

Nothing stood out too much until he looked toward her chest, a curled letter appearing from beneath the neckline of her dress.

“What’d y’all get,” Sammie wondered aloud, asking what everyone was dying to know.

Annie’s eyes took in her husband’s appearance just the same. He was solid like always, quiet like always, but his aura held a thoughtfulness that surrounded her. Then she saw it.

His ring finger was bare.

“Got our anniversary tatted,” he answered the question that was running through his wife’s head, damn near forgetting anyone else existed. He flashed the finger, roman numerals sprawled up the inside of his ring finger. Eyebrows knitting in emotion, he cleared his throat before lifting his shirt sleeve. “Then I got this.”

Annie was near bawling them. Because on the side of his right bicep was a simple line tattoo of the drawing her mother had sent her a picture of on their very first day away from home. Her daughter’s drawing. Her family. Her. Smoke. Babygirl. And that damn field of flowers.

“That’s real nigga shit right there,” Stack exclaimed, applauding his brother, and Annie concurred because damn. She had married a good ass man.

Then all eyes were on her because anticipation of her tattoo was driving them up a wall. But she looked at her husband, smirk littering her lips, beguiling him.

“I want Smoke to see it first,” she hummed, kissing the edge of his mouth. “In private.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

day five

Annie woke up groggy the next morning, fisting the sheets as she stretched alongside her husband. To her left, Smoke snored violently, and a giggle erupted from the back of her throat at the memory it conjured up.

“I can’t believe you did this,” he growled, biting into the flesh of her chest. He felt like his body was combusting from his need for her, the events of the day compounding. He’d been on edge since they woke up, had needed her all throughout the day when she was teasing him with kisses to the jaw or a hand to his thigh. And now, her tattoo was just making it ten times worse.

His name. His birth name. Embedded into her skin. Right above her heart.

“Fuck, you so sexy, girl,” Annie heard him compliment shakily. His eyes were on every part of her, never staying anywhere for too long because he needed to take all of her in.

“I love you, ‘Lijah,” she purred, hands rubbing his bare chest.

“God,” he exhaled, heaving a broken breath. “Don’t talk like that.”

But Annie giggled because she loved to get him riled up like this. She loved it when he felt out of control. When he felt lost. When he wanted to be conquered but fought it nonetheless. She pushed his chest, forcing him to fall back onto the bed.

Her knees met the floor.

“Let me take care of you, Papa,” she cooed, unbuckling his belt. She admired the way he gasped for air, and she praised him when he allowed her to do as she pleased.

His pants down. Her dress removed. Her bra gone.

The newly erected tattoo shown directly above her left breast—his favorite one. He salivated at the sight, propping himself up on shaky elbows as he watched her work. A tongue darted out to lap up the precum from his tip, and she spat on him, lubricating him the best way she knew how.

“You ready,” she questioned softly, jerking the length of him—up and down, up and down.

The honey to her voice had him nodding his head before he even knew what he should be ready for. And when her titties wrapped around his throbbing dick, a cry escaped his throat.

Her fingers brushed the edge of the tattoo, curling script tingling her skin. And then she looked at his right bicep—the drawing—imagining a larger family than the one that was etched there now, imagining vacations and birthdays and slow afternoons, imagining memories yet to be made.

Her sentimentality began to include the memories from the last few days: the set backs, the bumps in the road, the arguments, the fights—but also the love. It was the final day of their vacation, and in a few short hours they would be on their way to the airport and back home, and no matter how challenging some of the events had been, Annie had enjoyed herself. Alongside her family, she’d had fun and created memories to last a lifetime.

Beside her, the man began to rise from his slumber, hands searching for her.

“I’m right here, ‘Lijah,” she hummed, settling herself into his outstretched arms. She was immediately warmed by his naked body, and his distress was soothed by hers. They both shuddered as their limbs tangled.

"Last night," the man croaked, burying his face in her chest.

"I know," she laughed breathily, shivering at his cooling breath and the recollection of how he’d used it on her last night to push her over the edge. Her husband squeezed her waist, took a deep inhale of her.

"You was tryna turn my ass out, girl," he thundered in disbelief, causing them both to bellow loudly, laughing at the memory of Smoke breaking beneath her.

"I didn't try, Papa," she asserted, rising above his body. She straddled his waist, whining her hips against him. Slow movements lulled them both. Heat and desire made themselves home between them once more as her wet arousal spread across his throbbing length. Smoke became mesmerized as Annie leaned down, whispering in his ear. "I did."

After a lazy morning spent taking care of each other one last good time, the couple showered together before walking down to the beach. They had an hour before check out, an hour to soak up a little more sun before heading to the airport. Holding hands, their feet moved in tandem.

"You enjoy yourself, Mama," Smoke wondered aloud, looking at the side of her face for any inkling that the trip’s mishaps had ruined everything. He never thought the trip would happen without bumps in the road. Matter of fact, the entire time Annie worked out her ideas for it, he was fighting the urge to speak his grievances. Now that everything that could possibly go wrong had gone wrong, he fought back the urge to say I told you so.

Humming and pressing her shoulder into his, Annie pondered her answer thoughtfully.

"I've had the best time," she smiled softly, honestly. She met his gaze, grin spreading wide. She rolled her eyes at his expression. "I know you probably feel different—"

"I don't," he clarified, squeezing her hand. "I had my reservations and some of my predictions came true, but it’s been a good trip."

"It has," she affirmed meditatively.

In the distance, they saw their family where the street met the edge of the sandy beach. They waved their arms, Stack shouting the loudest about needing to get to the airport on time.

"As if his ass can say anything about bein' on time," Smoke grunted. He pulled his wife's hand to direct them both back across the street to check out of their hotel. Annie hid a laugh behind her hand, chuckling because day one of their trip had felt so long ago. Memphis. The airport. The long ass TSA line. The texts from Pearline about traffic. The hope that they'd make it on time. The defeat she felt when boarding was called. The relief she felt when she saw them running to the terminal.

"I can't wait for the next trip," she smiled as they made it to stand beside their friends.

"We can't either, girl," Grace grinned, new piercing shining in the sunlight. Her husband gripped her side, smiling down at her.

"Surprisingly, it wasn't too crazy," Therise deadpanned, pulling laughter from the group.

"Yeah, I was on my very best behavior," Cornbread nodded.

"Yeah right, nigga," Stack huffed, crossing his arms under his chest. "Like attempted murder," he shouted, recalling the play-fighting in the ocean on day three. "No one was on their best behavior. Not Grace and Bo," he admonished—for taking every bit of his money at the casino on night three. "Not Pearline and Sammie," he criticized—for bumping and grinding in the club just last night. "Not Smoke," he howled—for having incited the altercation at the pool on day two. "And for damn sure not Mary," he rolled his eyes—for having said something stupid that brought them to fight on the dance floor of the club.

"Welp," Therise hummed, shrugging her shoulders with a giggle. "I guess me and Annie ain't do nothing wrong."

"Oh, please," Stack scoffed, laughing brightly. “You chose to marry Cornbread, so that’s reason enough,” he shouted. The entire family cackled, Cornbread the loudest, holding his smiling wife close. Stack looked toward Annie, grinning at how happy she looked. “Plus,” he added, “it's my best friend's birthday, so she ain't never in the wrong.”

He moved to Annie's side, circling his arms around her and pulling her into a tight hug. The group all hummed in agreement because they were all here for her and her happiness.

"I love y'all to death," she breathed wetly, wiping tears that streamed down her face, and they all pulled her into a big group hug.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

word count: ~11,200!!!

a/n: ugh i love them so muchhh. this was an absolute bitch to revise, so if there are any typos, don't tell meee :3

taglist: comment HERE to be added!

Feburary 2027

Michael was in one of the worst moods he’d been in all month. He was irritated and restless and everybody around him could feel it too.

It wasn't like he was rude or mean, but his team had decided to move as carefully as possible around him. They spent all afternoon double checking everything before they even approached him. Nobody really wanted to be on the receiving end of his attitude. 

And the reason of it all was simple. He missed Wunmi badly. The last time he had physically seen her was over two weeks ago, and at this point he was starting to feel it. Obiviously, the talked everyday, but it was mostly through texts. They would have short phone calls here and there, typically before bed. And now, he was truly feeling every second of those two weeks that they'd been apart. 

Tonight's event was supposed to be a big deal because he was being honored for his career achievements and normally he would be more excited. But right now, he didn't even want to go.

Thecar pulled up to the venue and Michael stayed seated willing himself to want to actually participate in tonight's festivities. After a deep breath, he stepped out to the chaotic sounds of people calling for other celebrities on the carpet.

Normally, he could easily turn his celebrity charm on, but it seemed that otnight it would take a bit more effort. He put on the best fake smile that he could and started making his way down the carpet. He stopped and smiled for pictures, his mind counting down the minutes for it all to be over. He just wanted to be in bed, phone in hand, listening to the sounds of Wunmi breathing as she sleeped. 

After the pictures, he went through interview after interview, answering the same few boring questions. His years of media training helped him thorugh it as his mind went to autopilot mode. He was so distracted in one of the interviews that when a hand lightly touched his back, he practically jumped.

The interviewer gasped, "Well look who's here!"

Michael turned around and it was like everything in his body settled. Wunmi stood a little bit behind him with a smile on her face and she looked absolutely gorgeous. Michael's eyes lit up and his mood lifted. 

Wunmi smiled at the interviewer politely before leaning in to give Michael a hug. Their arms wrapped around each other in a way that looked friendly for the cameras. And though they were supposed to be putting on this show for the public, her lips curved against Michael's cheek as he squeezed her a bit too tight. 

Michael exhaled quietly through his nose, loosening his hold for her to pull back.

“I just came to say hi,” she said.

And before he could say anything, she stepped away.

His eyes tracked her as she walked further down the carpet. He looked as if he was going to ditch the interview and follow after her. The intterviewer was clearly talking to him, but Michael didn't hear truly hear a word that ws being said. He snapped back into reality and put on his best face to finish the interview.

As soon as it was over, he stepped away, eyes immediately scanned the room looking for his fiancée. His team hurried after him trying to keep him in check, but he was going too fast. He kept moving until he found her inside the venue standing near on of the cocktail tables talking to someone. She was looking directly at him with a smile on her face as she talked. 

Michael took in how good she looked. The lighting warmed her skin beautifully and the diamonds around her neck sparkled every time she moved. She looked calm. Meanwhile, he felt like his brain had short-circuited since the second she hugged him.

Wunmi slightly tilted her head at the way he was staring at her, then she winked. Michael let out a quiet huff of a laugh at the move. That woman was so incredibly irritating. 

The longer he stood there, the more Wunmi looked at him. She mouthed, hi, then she motioned with her hand for him to keep moving.

He let out a dramatic puff of air from his but did as he was told. He allowed himself to be walked to his table. He took his seat with his mind reeling about what was happening with him. 

He was starting to realize that he didn't like this. He didn't like being around her in public and not being able to act how he wanted to. He wanted to kiss her and hold her because he hadn't seen her in so long. He was obsessed with her. He needed her in his bones. 

Every now and then his eyes would drift to her and every time she was looking at him. At one point she slowly crossed her legs beneath the table, and Michael had to look away because his mind went somewhere far too inappropriate for where he was. It had been two weeks since he was able to touch her properly and it was driving him insane. 

The ceremony itself moved quickly. There were several honorees that night. There were also a few live performances to break everything up.

After a long while, it was finally his turn. The lights dimmed slightly as the presenter stepped onto the stage. A montage of clips from his films over the years started playing across the screens behind them. There was behind the scenes and directing footage. The room applauded at the end and then the introduction speech started. They talked about his growth, his impact, and his transition from actor to producer to director.

Michael sat back slightly in his chair listening quietly, jaw tight with emotion he was trying not to show too openly.

“Please welcome one of tonight’s honorees, Michael B. Jordan.”

The room erupted into applause as Michael stood up. He pushed his chair back and started to make his way to the stage. When he walked past Wunmi's table, his face softened and his eyes sparkled under the lights. Wunmi smiled wider at the sight of him. 

Michael shook his head while continuing to the stage. He loved her something bad. He reached the stage with a standing ovation going. He hugged the presenter and accepted the award.

“Thank you so much,” he laughed softly. “I'm just so honored. I’ve been thinking a lot lately about growth and change and what it means to evolve. And not just as an artist, but as a man,” he stated. 

Michael continued talking about how much he had matured over the years. How working with different creatives throughout his career had pushed him to become more open.

“There was a point where I thought success just meant working nonstop, constantly chasing the next thing. But now I appreciate leadership differently. Directing and producing changed me a lot. I was responsible for people and building something bigger than myself. That's something I'm still learning in both my career and my personal life every day.”

Wunmi giddily watched him from her table. Because she knew how hard he had worked to become this version of himself. He was more patient, open, and intentional now.

Michael started to thank people, starting with his family, especially his mother. Then he thanked his close frineds, creative partners, and people who helped his career over the years. His eyes moved through the room until they found Wunmi again. She sat still beneath his gaze, looking up at him with a sweet smile. Michael felt warmth spread across his face.

“And lastly, I gotta thank my heart and my love, for being my support these last few years. You've encouraged me to step outside of what people expect from me. You pushed me toward what I actually wanted for myself. You've been the shoulder for me to lean on and you ground me. Thank you so much baby.”

Michael finished off his speech by thanking everybody again. He stepped off the stage and tried to head back to his seat. People kept stopping and congratulating him. He was being pulled in different directions for hugs and pictures. Michael smiled politely the entire time.

Eventually his team managed to get him away from the crowd. They led him to a quiet hallway corner tucked away from everything. He adjusted his watch as he looked around. Then he noticed Wunmi walking toward him. When she got close enough Michael held his arms out for her to walk right into them.

With them being in such a private area they were free to be who they were completely. Wunmi stepped into his arms. She laughed at how tight he was squeezing her.

“I missed you, baby,” he said roughly into her neck.

"I missed you too," she lifted her head a bit to kiss his cheek.

Michael’s hands spread against her back over the fabric of her dress, holding her close. Then he pulled back just enough to look at her face.

“When did you fly in?”

“This afternoon,” she answered patiently. 

“Why you ain’t tell me?”

“Because it was a surprise, baby.”

“You really surprised me.”

“I know.”

He huffed softly through his nose, pulling her closer.

“You looked so happy up there,” she told him quietly. She reached up and smoothed her hand lightly over the front of his jacket.

“I was,” his eyes stayed on her face another second before he asked quietly, “How long you here for?”

“About that…I have to fly back for the BAFTAs,” Wunmi bit her lip.

His face dropped, “When?”

“Tomorrow morning.”

“Tomorrow morning?” he frustratingly repeated.

Wunmi winced, “I know.”

“Okay then I’m coming with you,” Michael shook his head in disbelief.

“Baby.”

“I’m serious.”

“You need to stay here and finish press.”

“I can do press over there.”

“No you can’t. You already have interviews scheduled,” she said. 

Michael sucked his teeth, clearly irritated. He looked like he wanted to argue about it too. Wunmi saw it forming before he even opened his mouth.

“I fly out in the morning. Not tonight,” she reminded him gently.

“Okay, fine,” he sighed. He clearly hated agreeing though. “Come on.”

“Where are we going?”

“I just need some time with you.” He looked touch-starved. Like these last few weeks had actually been hard on him.

Michael intertwined their fingers starting to lead her. His security team discreetly directed them through the quiet hallway toward a private side exit. When they made it outside, Michael's car was waiting for them.

They spent the whole car ride up under each other. Luckily, the drive home wasn't too long. 

When they got home, they headed upstairs to the bedroom, stripping down from their formal clothes into something more comfortable. They laid in bed together, kissing lazily between conversations. They were catching up on all the things that they never had time to say over facetime.

Michael couldn’t keep his hands off of her. Every time Wunmi shifted even a little bit, his hands followed. He gripped her waist, her thighs, her back, anything he could reach. His fingers rubbed softly against her skin as if he needed the physical reasurance that she was actually there.

At one point Wunmi laughed softly against his lips, “You’re being so clingy.”

"Mhm and I don't care," Michael kissed her again.

The closer they got to the wedding, the more attached he was. The more they started to reveal their relationship, the less careful he seemed to become emotionally. And Wunmi could feel it in everything he did.

The next morning, Michael was in a bad mood again because she had to leave. They were sitting in the back of the SUV with Wunmi trying not to laugh because of how miserable he was acting. 

“You’ll be okay,” Wunmi teased softly.

Michael glanced over at her with a look that said otherwise.

"You'll see me soon," Wunmi shook her head fondly before squeezing his hand.

“Not soon enough.”

They pulled up to the airport entrance where Wunmi's team was standing out front waiting for her. When the car stopped, Michael got out first. He helped her out of the car then while she greeted her team, he went to the trunk to get her bags. They went inside while discussing scheduling and timing of the coming press days.

Michael barely spoke to the group of people as he carried the bags. He maintained close distance to his fiancée, trying to get as much time out of her as he could. 

Eventually they reached the security checkpoint where they had to separate and Michael visibly disliked that. Wunmi stepped into his arms, wrapping hers around his neck. She smiled against his shoulder.

“Michael,” he hummed against her without loosening his hold at all. “I have to go.”

He said nothing. If anything, his arms tightened more.

“Baby.”

Michael grunted quietly and held onto her for another few seconds before pulling back. His face was completely serious.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

He kissed her one more time. Then Wunmi tried to step away and Michael grabbed her waist again.

“Michael,” she laughed.

He sighed dramatically before finally letting go for real this time.

“Text me when you land.”

“I will.”

“Don’t disappear all day.”

“Yes sir.”

Finally, she was able to turn and walk towards security with her team. A few steps in, she glanced back over her shoulder to see that Michael was still standing exactly where she left him watching her leave. The second she disappeared fully from sight, the smile faded from his face and he looked exhausted again.

Once he got back outside, his driver opened the SUV door for him. He slid into the backseat with a heavy sigh. As soon as he got settled and the car started to move, his phone rang with a call from his publicist. Michael didn't really want to answer, but he did anyway. 

“What.”

“You’re in a wonderful mood this morning,” she deadpanned.

“What I got today?”

“Not too much today, actually. You have a radio interview first, a magazine interview, and then Fallon tonight.”

Michael leaned back against the seat with a sigh. All he wanted to do now was go back home and get in bed. Instead he had to go smile on television.

He spent the entire day operating on autopilot. Smiling when needed, shaking hands, telling the same stories, and answering the same questions. By the middle of the afternoon he was mentally exhausted and his team could tell. There was a flatness to him whenever the cameras weren't rolling. 

Luckily, when it was time for his Jimmy Fallon interview, he wasn't as bothered as he was before. Maybe it was because he genuinely enjoyed his time on the late night show. The energy was always lighthearted and less stiff than some of the more serious and repetitive interviews he'd been doing lately. And honestly, he needed that tonight.

Out on stage, Jimmy Fallon was gearing up for his arrival.

“Our next guest is an Academy award-winning actor, producer, and director…please welcome Michael B. Jordan!”

The crowd erupted the second Michael walked out. Women in the audience were losing their minds. Michael laughed as he waved and lightly jogged onto the stage.

Jimmy stood laughing beside his desk.

“Look at this!” Fallon shouted over the noise. “Does this ever get old for you?”

Michael sat down in the chair with a grin spreading across his face.

“Nah, not really,” he laughed honestly.

The audience screamed again and Michael shook his laughing.

“Well I think this is all gonna die down soon anyway,” he teased while settling into his own chair.

“I don’t know about that,” he said as he casually leaned back.

“Alright, alright…" Jimmy smiled warmly. “But seriously, congratulations on the engagement.”

A real genuine smile spread across Michael's face as the audience applauded. His body warmed up and he seemed almost shy for a second.

“Thank you,” he said genuinely.

“So when’s the wedding?”

Michael chuckled a bit, "Soon."

“How soon?”

“Very soon.”

"That's not really an answer man," Jimmy narrowed his eyes jokingly.

Michael shrugged, "I'm trying here."

“So how’s wedding planning going?”

Michael groaned which made the audience laugh.

“Man, it's uh, it’s a lot,” he admitted. “I didn’t realize how much goes into it.”

Jimmy nodded knowingly, “Oh yeah.”

“And we both been really busy lately. So honestly a lot of stuff fell into the wedding planner’s hands,” Michael continued.

“Hey man, you gotta be a little careful with that,” Jimmy said.

“Yeah you do, but my fiancée is very particular," Michael laughed before shaking his head.

"And what does that mean?" Jimmy grinned.

“It means she knows exactly what she wants.”

“And you don’t?”

“No. I learned real quick this is not my lane,” he said confidently.

Jimmy laughed a little, “So you just gave up?”

“I ain’t say that,” Michael defended jokingly. “We definitely bumped heads a couple times. But I also learned she’s usually right. So now I just let her have it.”

“That's a smart thing to learn.”

The conversation changed to talking about The Thomas Crown Affair. The rest of the interview flew by. They effortlessly joked back and forth with the audience eating up every little thing Michael said. He laughed more during that interview than he had during other interviews, finally loosening up fully once the conversation stopped feeling so media trained.

When the interview was over, Michael was just ready to go home. He got into the SUV and reached for his phone, opening him and Wunmi's text thread. The ride home was quiet while he scrolled through the pictures she’d sent him earlier that week from fittings and press events.

He got home and the house felt too quiet and too empty. He kicked his shoes off near the entryway, headed upstairs, and pulled his phone back out. He knew she probably wouldn’t be awake yet, but he texted her anyway. He wanted to send her messages of good luck and not to stress herself out.

The BAFTA Awards were a huge deal, and even though Wunmi tried to act calm about things, Michael knew when she was nervous. And she was definitely nervous.

After sending the text, he showered and climbed into bed. The exhaustion hit him quickly.

The next morning, he woke up earlier than he needed to because the BAFTAs were about to start airing and his schedule was jampacked for the day.

When he went downstairs, the house was active. His team had taken over. Somebody was steaming clothes in the corner while another person organized accessories across the kitchen island.

Michael was half awake walking around in a white tank top and black shorts.

“Good morning. We have to start getting you ready in like twenty,” His stylist called out from nearby. 

He nodded while grabbing the remote to turn the tv on. He put the BAFTAs pre-show coverage on. The red carpet hadn’t fully started yet, but reporters were outside talking while footage rolled across the screen. Michael stood there watching quietly for a second before sitting on the edge of the couch.

Suddenly, his phone buzzed with Wunmi's name and face lighting up the screen. He answered almost immediately.

As soon as it connected, Wunmi's smiling face appeared on the other side of the screen. She was in the backseat of a car, London moving behind the windows while soft natural light filtered across her face.

Michael’s breath caught slightly. He couldn’t even fully see her outfit, but from what he did see, she looked beautiful already.

“Jesus, you look good,” he muttered honestly. 

Wunmi smiled nervously at the compliment, “Thank you.”

Michael noticed the tension in her expression. His brows pulled together.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m just nervous,” her voice came out quietly.

“Nervous about what?”

"Everything," she sighed softly. “I just…I wish you were here.”

Michael frowned instantly, because he wished the exact same thing.

“Baby, I wish I was there too,” he said softly.

Wunmi smiled weakly.

“You gon’ be fine. This just another stepping stone,” he told her confidently. “You already proved yourself several times over."

A small smile spread across Wunmi’s face. Hearing that from him always meant something to her. He believed in her completely, even more than she believed in herself sometimes.

 “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Someone outside her car opened the door then, voices floating faintly into the background. Wunmi looked toward them before glancing back at Michael.

“I gotta go walk the carpet.”

Michael nodded.

“Aight,” his eyes stayed fixed on her face. “I can’t wait to celebrate you.”

"Okay," Wunmi bit lightly at her lip trying not to smile too hard at that.

“Go handle business.”

Wunmi nodded once, “Bye baby.”

“Bye.”

Michael was staring at his phone after the call ended when his publicist walked past him carrying a clipboard.

“How she feeling?” she asked.

“She's nervous,” Michael said setting the phone down.

“It’s awards season. Everybody's nervous,” she said simply. 

Michael leaned back against the couch cushions with a sigh. He hated not being there with her so he could calm her down, hold her hand, and talk her through it.

Everybody was still moving around him getting things ready. But his eyes stayed fixed on the tv. And he was glad he was looking, because soon Wunmi's face captured the screen.

She loojed so good it honestly irritated him a bit. She wore this sparkling baby blue gown that hugged every curve of her body perfectly as if it was painted on. The fabric shimmered every time the cameras flashed against it. Her patewo braids were pulled beautifully up away from her face. Everything about her looked flawless.

Michael stared hard at the screen as the cameras zoomed in on her face. His stylist was talking to him and he didn’t hear a word. All he could focus on was Wunmi smiling naturally while posing for photos. And she looked so comfortable now too. The nervousness from a few minutes ago was gone. She calmly floated down that carpet, stopping to get captured by different camera angles while photographers shouted her name.

Michael shook his head slowly. His eyes followed her across the screen. He wished he was there to field some of the attention she was sure to be getting. And not just from the photographers. 

Wunmi had a tendency to be too nice and open with people, and he didn't want another Tyree situation to come about. Especially with her being in another country.

Michael exhaled sharply through his nose while watching another camera angle pop up. The camera zoomed in closer while Wunmi turned slightly toward the photographers and Michael spotted the ring sparkling against her hand. A boyish smile spread across his face. He was satisfied now. 

He stayed focused on the screen while Wunmi continued moving down the carpet. Then she finally moved from the photo area toward the interview section. As soon as she got off the screen, Michael stood up, and headed upstairs to clean his body off for the day. 

It didn't take him long to clean up. He went back downstairs dressed in only a robe. His team had everything ready for him now. He sat down while people started to move around to get him dressed and ready.

He came back down at the right time because the ceremony had officially started. Someone had grabbed the remote and turned the volume a little higher.

Michael was locked in on the screen the entire time they got him ready. Even while someone buttoned his shirt cuffs, his eyes never moved from the tv.

The ceremony rolled on for about an hour before the category he was waiting for came up.

Michael immediately stood up from the chair before they could even tell him to stay still. Instinctively, he moved closer to the screen, fully dressed now except for a few final touches. He crossed his arms tightly over his chest while staring.

The nominees started rolling across the screen one by one with their clips playing and their names were announced. The second Wunmi's clip came up, Michael smiled. The clip ended and the presenter opened the card.

“And the BAFTA goes to…”

There was a pause, then-

“…Wunmi Mosaku.”

"LET'S GO!" Michael boomed. He clapped his hands together hard enough to echo through the room. Excitement was written all over his face. “That’s my baby!”

Everybody around him started cheering and laughing at Michael's reaction.

Onscreen, Wunmi looked stunned for half a second before that huge smile spread across her face. She stood up gracefully, hugging her family first, then members of her team nearby.

She officially made history, not once but twice. Last year she made history as the first black British woman to win for best supporting actress in a film. Now she's done it twice, back to back, which hadn't been done before.

Wunmi made her way toward the stage while applause filled the venue. She reached the microphone and took a small breath first. Michael noticed that breath. It was the same one she took when she was trying not to get emotional.

Then she started speaking and just like always she was incredibly graceful, humble, and warm. She thanked her castmates and crew, her team, her family, and her friends. Michael smiled bigger hearing how intentionally she spoke. How she was filled with gratitude with each word.

As soon as her speech ended, Michael was reaching for his phone. He wanted to call her and just tell her how proud of her he was. But his publicist cut in fast.

“We got to go right now. We're late.”

Michael looked up annoyed. He glanced back at the TV reluctantly while Wunmi walked offstage still smiling. 

The next day, Wunmi landed back in Los Angeles a little after two in the afternoon. And she was completely exhausted.

The last few weeks had been nonstop between interviews, fittings, flights, award shows, events, and barely sleeping in between any of it. But underneath all the exhaustion she was happy.

She stepped through the private terminal doors and spotted him waiting there in a hoodie and sunglasses.

The moment she got close enough, he grabbed her face gently and kissed her hard before she could even fully greet him. Wunmi laughed into the kiss from surprise.

“Hi to you too.”

“I missed you,” he muttered against her lips before kissing her again.

Wunmi smiled tiredly, “I can tell.”

Michael took her bags from her team, wrapped an arm around her shoulders, and guided her toward the parking area. He opened the passenger door for her once they reached the SUV, helping her inside before loading all of her bags. By the time he climbed into the driver’s seat, Wunmi looked halfway asleep. He leaned across the console and kissed her softly one more time.

Wunmi smiled softly against his lips.

“You happy now?”

“Mhm,” Michael grabbed her hand, kissing the back of it. “How do you feel?” 

He started up the car while Wunmi leaned back into her seat with a tired sigh.

“I'm glad I’m home with you.”

Michael smiled and squeezed her hand. He pulled the car away from the curb and got on the road. As traffic moved slowly, Michael glanced over at her every once in a while to check on her. She still looked beautiful even while she was exhausted.

“I'm so proud of you,” Michael said quietly after a while.

"Thank you, baby," Wunmi looked over sleepily with the tiniest smile on her face. 

"Back to back is crazy," Michael kissed her knuckles again.

Wunmi just laughed softly.

After a moment Michael glanced over again.

“How the dress coming?”

“Good. It's almost done.”

“I really can't believe you making your own wedding dress,” Michael shook his head in disbelief.

"It's what I always wanted to do," Wunmi shrugged tiredly.

A few minutes later, her responses started slowing down, her head leaned heavier against the seat, and eyes blinked slower. Michael noticed, so he lowered the volume of the music and stopped talking altogether so she could sleep. 

But right as the silence settled in the car Wunmi’s sleepy voice mumbled, “You can keep talking. I can still talk and listen.”

Michael glanced over to see her eyes were barely open. He laughed quietly to himself while rubbing his thumb across her hand.

“Go to sleep, babe.”

Wunmi made a soft sound of protest but was drifting off anyway. Within another minute, she was fully asleep in the passenger seat.

The rest of the drive home was quiet. 

He pulled into the garage and turned the car off. He looked over at his fiancée. She hadn’t moved in the last twenty minutes of the drive. Her cheek was pressed against the headrest, lips slightly parted, hand still loosely wrapped around his. 

He carefully slipped his hand from hers and got out of the car. The garage door rumbled shut behind him while he quietly grabbed all of her luggage, carrying everything inside then coming back out for her.

Michael opened the passenger door to see that Wunmi hadn’t moved at all. He leaned in and carefully unbuckled her seatbelt so he wouldn’t wake her. He slid one arm beneath her knees and the other around her back then he lifted her out bridal style.

The movement of it made Wunmi stir a bit. She sleepily threw her arms around his shooulders.

He carried her into the house, making sure not to bump her against anything while kicking the door shut behind him. Then headed upstairs where he laid her down on the bed. He crouched down to pull her shoes off, then started changing her out of her clothes replacing her travel attire with t-shirt and sleep shorts. 

He pulled the throw blankets over her and leaned down to kiss her forehead. After that he decided to leave her alone to rest while he did some things around the house.

For two hours, Michael answered emails, phone calls, and looked at updates from the wedding planner. He even started to make food for later because he knew that Wunmi was going to be hungry when she woke up.

When the two and a half hour mark hit, Michael was sitting at the kitchen island going through wedding documents on his iPad when he heard footsteps moving around. A few seconds later, Wunmi appeared at the top of the staircase.

"What time is it?" She rubbed one eye while walking down the stairs slowly.

Michael checked the clock, “Almost meeting time.”

He laughed as Wunmi groaned. He held his hand out toward her, waiting for her to get closer. She walked into his space, leaning against him while he wrapped an arm around her waist.

“Did you sleep good?” he asked softly.

She nodded against him, "Mhm."

"Good," he kissed her arm.

Wunmi glanced toward the kitchen counter seeing all the wedding folders and notes spread out. She let out a dramatic sigh and reached for his coffee mug to take a sip.

He watched her carefully, “You ready?”

“No,” she answered honestly.

“Well too bad, the meeting starts in five minutes,” Michael grinned.

Wunmi settled into the chair beside him while he adjusted the laptop on the kitchen island. He rested one arm across the back of her chair while they waited for the zoom to connect. A second later their wedding planner popped up onto the screen smiling brightly.

“Hello to my favorite clients!”

“Don't give us the same compliment you give to everyone else,” Wunmi laughed softly.

“I'm not!” the planner said. “Most couples stress me out. You two don't.”

The planner jumped right into business after that, pulling up documents to explain updates.

“Overall everything is moving very smoothly. There’s just one issue.”

Michael’s face went tight, “What's the issue?”

“The venue is still giving us pushback about outside catering. They’re insisting on using their in-house chef team, but considering the type of menu you want and the guest list…” she trailed off knowingly.

Michael leaned back in his chair, "But we already told them in the beginning that we wanted our own people."

“I know,” the planner agreed quickly. “I’m handling it. I just wanted to keep you both updated.”

Wunmi rubbed lightly at her forehead, “That’s so annoying.”

“It’ll get fixed. And it shouldn't take too long. Everything will be situated before final confirmation with the caterer, I promise,”the planner reassured. “But enough about that. Let me show you the updated ceremony mockup.”

The rendering of the ceremony setup filled the laptop screen beautifully. Large white flowers were used as the arch portion, a white runway was the aisle with white flowers running alongside it. Dozens of comfortable white and black circular chairs lined both sides of the aisle. All together everything looked extremely romantic and bright.

"Oh wow," Wunmi gasped quietly the second she saw it.

Michael went completely silent beside her, because suddenly it all felt real. They were actually getting married. In a few months, Wunmi would be walking down that aisle toward him becoming his wife. He swallowed hard unexpectedly while staring at the screen. The planner kept talking excitedly about floral placement and lighting concepts, but Michael barely heard her.

His eyes stayed fixed on the mockup while emotions hit him all at once. The thought of standing there waiting for Wunmi, seeing her in her dress, hearing their vows, and officially starting their life together. It got him bad enough that his eyes started glossing slightly.Michael blinked quickly, cleared his throat, and leaned back. 

The rest of the meeting moved pretty quickly after that. They just finalized a few details like timing, transportation, and rehearsal dinner logistics. After a few final goodbyes, the Zoom call ended and the laptop screen went dark.

Wunmi pushed herself out of her chair standing right in front of him. He automatically spread his legs so she could stand in between them. She leaned down and kissed him softly as her hand found her waist.

“I’m really excited.”

“Yeah?” Michael looked up at her while rubbing her hips.

“Everything looked so good,”she said.

He wrapped both arms fully around her waist and pulled her closer until she was nearly sitting in his lap.

“I’m glad I met my soulmate,” he said quietly.

The sincerity in his voice made Wunmi’s smile soften. She brushed her fingers lightly along the side of his face.

“I’m glad too.”

Michael tilted his head slightly into her touch before kissing her again.

Mid-Feburary 2027

The last few weeks had honestly spoiled Michael because ever since Wunmi had come back from London, they had barely spent any time apart. If he was home, she was there. If she had fittings or meetings, he somehow found a reason to be nearby.

So naturally, when the SAG Awards rolled around, Michael suggested they just get ready together.

Wunmi’s team had practically taken over the entire suite. Garment bags were hung up and makeup and hair products took up most of the table space. Soft music was playing throughout the suite as women talked and moved around the space.

Michael kept abandoning his own glam process to hover around Wunmi on her side of the suite. He had been especially attached lately, but it wasn't like she minded. She was on the last day of her period and had been noticeably emotional and irritated. It wasn't like she was rude, just snappy. And Michael knew not to take any of it personally.

Like earlier that morning when she snapped on him for trying to take her food when he was only reaching over to open her water bottle. She instantly felt bad about it and apologized, but he wasn't phased by her attitude. He just kept going asking her if she needed anything and doing things even when she said she didn't.

It didn't take much longer for the both of them to be ready. Wunmi wore a sparkling burnt orange gown long sleeves and soft draping that hugged her waist. A deep slit ran up her side, exposing her glowing, oiled-up leg. Her hair in a long ponytail with a bang that slightly covered her right eye.

Michael wore a black double-breasted suit with a black button up underneath. He paired with his David Yurman bracelets and chain. He also had on a black band watch she had just gifted him for his birthday.

He walked closer to her, his hands lightly gripping her waist. He leaned down and softly kissed her despite hearing her makeup artist scold him. He ignored her and continued on. 

"You look gorgeous," he said while pulling back.

"Thank you. I love the all-black look on you," Wunmi ran her hand down his arms. "And you're starting to fill out your suits more now."

He hummed feeling her hand go from his arms to his chest. He was becoming a little more solid like he had been during the filming of Sinners. She loved the feeling of the weight of his body on hers.

Someone called that it was time for them to leave. They pulled away from each other. Michael moved to make sure she had everything like her phone and lipgloss. 

Downstairs, their SUVs waited outside the side entrance away from all of the people and potential cameras.

Michael opened Wunmi’s car door, carefully helping her inside so her dress wouldn’t catch on anything. He leaned in briefly to place her bag beside her.

“You comfortable?”

“Yes daddy,” she teased softly.

"Watch yourself," Michael smirked. He gave her one more kiss, brushing his thumb across her cheek.

"I'll see you there, okay? I love you."

"Okay. I love you too," Wunmi nodded softly.

Michael finally closed the car door and stepped back. He tapped the side of the SUV and watched as the car pulled off. He got into his own car once Wunmi's was out of his sight.

It wasn't long before the car pulled up to the venue. His door opened and camera flashes went off like crazy. He stepped out of the car looking good. 

Michael gave a few quick smiles and waves to the screaming people before starting down the carpet at an easy pace. He posed for photos and stopped at different press platforms to answer all of the usual questions. He made his way to his last interview of the night.

“You look very happy tonight.”

“I am.”

“We love to hear it. Now tell me, who are you rooting for tonight?”

“I mean, I know a lot of people here,” he answered honestly. “There's so many people I'm rooting for honestly.A lot of peers, old castmates, friends. Like I just saw that Wunmi was here.”

“She’s having an incredible season.”

“She is,” Michael agreed instantly. “I’m really proud of her.”

They talked a little more about the movie, where he answered the same re-packaged question. But then the conversation made a small shift.

“So, how's the fiancée?” the interviewer said grinning slyly.

Michael’s face changed instantly at the mention of her.

Softer.

Warmer.

“She's good. Very busy and tired, but good,” he answered with a softened smile. 

“Is she here tonight?”

“She’s…” he paused slightly again before smirking, “…around. That’s all y’all getting.”

After finishing the interview, his team guided him inside. The ballroom inside buzzed with conversation as people moving between tables. He followed his team toward his seat. Unfortunately, his table sat on the opposite side of the room from Wunmi’s.

Once he sat down, he pulled out his phone, fingers moving quickly across he screen. 

i'm proud of you no matter what. good luck baby. i love you.

The response was almost immediate as if she had been waiting for him to text her.

Thank you, my love. I love you too.

The show moved along pretty quickly once everyone got seated. Michael surprisingly stayed engaged through most of it too. Usually award shows dragged after a while, especially this deep into the season when everybody was tired and over traveling, but tonight it just flowed.

Every few minutes his eyes wandered across the ballroom to Wunmi's table. Even from that far away he could still spot the bright orange shimmer of her dress instantly. He would smile to miself every time he caught a glimpse of her laughing or talking to someone.

The closer it got to Wunmi's category, Michael started to fidget more. He rubbed his hands together often as presenters walked onto the stage. And when his eyes would scan the room, he noticed Wunmi's body language. Even though she said she wasn't nervous, he could tell that she was. He knew her too well not to know. 

Finally, the category came up. Michael's body went still as the presenter walked on stage. They did the intro speech and clips played across the screen. Each time he saw Wunmi's face on the big screen, he felt pride swell up in his chest.

Then the presenter opened the envelope.

“And the Actor goes to…” there was a pause as the presenter opened the envelope. "…Wunmi Mosaku."

The ballroom exploded in applause and cheers. People stood up clapping and eyeing her. Michael was on his feet before he even knew it. The excitement on his face was undeniable as he clapped and shouted so loudly over the noise.

Across the room, Wunmi looked genuinely stunned. Her hands flew toward her chest while the people around her grabbed onto her to hug and congratulate her. She genuinely looked overwhelmed. Her eyes were glossy and she was shaking her head as she looked at everyone. She slowly started to make her way to the stage.

Michael instinctively started moving forward as if he was going to go up to her. Then he realized how far apart their tables actually were. He was too far away to do something without it looking suspicious. All he could do was stand across the room and watch her with a proud smile on his face. Then he realized how far apart their tables actually were.

Wunmi reached the stage still looking absolutely overwhelmed. She received the award and stood in front of the microphone all while the applause kept going. She took a deep breath trying to get herself together. 

She laughed softly under her breath almost nervously before finally leaning toward the microphone.

“I…did not expect this," and you could hear it in her voice.

Wunmi took another breath before continuing. She thanked her peers for voting for her, theen her castmates, her director, the crew, and everyone who helped to shape her performance. She was genuine and felt incredibly humble at this win, and everyone could tell by the way she breathed between her small stumbles in speech. But that all became slightly steadier and softer as she thanked her family and friends for supporting her. 

And Michael couldn’t stop smiling watching her. On hand briefly rubbed across his mouth to try to rid it of the wide smile he wore. Luckily the cameras weren't in his direction, becaus ehe was sure everything would be given away by his facil expression.

One hand rubbed briefly across his mouth while the people at his table started looking at him knowingly again.

“Thank you for this,” Wunmi said sincerely while lifting the award slightly. 

The room erupted into applause again as she walked offstage looking dazed by the entire ordeal.

Eventually, the show wrapped and people started moving around freely. Michael slipped away from his table and found Wunmi in a quiet area of the large space surrounded by members of her team. Her whole body did a sigh the moment she saw him.

Michael walked straight to her, wrapping both of his arms around her so tightly. He pulled her against him so their chests were pressed together. 

“I can’t believe that just happened,” she said as she melted into him.

“Belive it, baby. It's more to come,” Michael pulled back just enough to look at her, his hands firm around her waist.

Her eyes watered as he kissed one of her cheeks, then the other one.

After seeing his woman, Michael was now in the best of moods and everyone around him could see it. Normally, before an interview he was calm and focused while his team prepped. But today he was actually excited.

He had been trying to get on this podcast for months. He'd seen several celebrities that he knew go on and have the time of their lives. He could see how much they actually trusted the hosts and opened up to them. The hosts had a reputation for getting people comfortable enough to loosen up and let go without being overbearing. 

Part of that came from their background with the Playhouse. The Playhouse was this massive performance platform where dancer and creatives got to build careers and relationships with celebrities. Because of that the hosts interacted with famous people in a way others wouldn't. With their journalism backgrounds and connections to the industry, they knew how to navigate even the messiest of conversations.

Michael had watched enough of their episodes to know what he was walking into and he was actually excited. Maybe that also had something to do with Wunmi coming along. She was sitting next to him in a flowy black black dress not really paying attention to much besides her phone.

After another twenty minutes or so, the car finally pulled up outside the podcast studio. When they went inside, the studio had a warm cozy feeling to it. It didn't feel like the normal minimalist set-ups that most podcast studio had. 

The small production team greeted them with warm smiles and waves. They led them deeper into the studio space where the three hosts were waiting. 

Alexis approached him first. She had light caramel-colored skin, stood around 5'4, with thick curves. Sasha followed behind. She was 5'8, slim build, with deep skin. Malcolm was last with light skin, 6'1 height, and long locs.

They all individually introduced themselves to Michael, greeting him with hugs. He reached his hand back to pull Wunmi up from slightly behind him. She smiled at the group.

“This is my fiancée, Wunmi.”

Sasha and Alexis gasped at Michael's statement.

"Oh my gosh, girl. I love you so much," Alexis's face lit up in absolute excitement.

"Yes, like we've been following you since Lovecraft Country!" A smirk took over Sasha's face. "Now ownder the chemistry was like that in Sinners."

Both Wunmi and Michael chuckled at that. 

"I love this for y'all. Congratulations," Alexis smiled as she spoke.

"Thank you so much," Wunmi replied. 

“Can we see the ring?”

Wunmi nodded her head and held her left hand up for them to see. The diamonds sparkled beautifully under the studio lights. The two women crowded around her hand with impresed expressions on their faces.

“That is gorgeous,” Alexis said seriously.

“You spent some money on that. I know that's right,” Sasha added.

"I did, but she deserves it," Michael said proudly.

They eased into conversation, everyone trying to get comfortable with each other. It didn't take long for the conversation to flow between them. Eventually, production finished setting everything up so everyone moved to the set.

The hosts and Michael sat in the four chairs that were set up in a semi-circle. The microphones were behind the chairs, angling in fornt of the chairs. Wunmi settled onto the couch that was just off-camera.

Michael looked over at her almost as soon as she sat down.

“You good?”

"I'm okay," Wunmi nodded.

A producer started counting down behind the cameras and everybody settled into place. The countdown finished and they jumped right into it.

"Welcome back into the world of the Playhouse. I'm one of your hosts, Alexis."

"Malcolm."

"And I'm Sasha. And today we have a very special and highly requested guest. None other than Academy Award winning, Michael B. Jordan."

“Highly requested?” Michael's eyebrows lifted at that.

“Yes sir. After our interview with Aaron Pierre, everybody's been begging for you." 

“Well I appreciate the love then. I'm grateful to be here for real,” Michael said genuinely while adjusting in his chair. He actually looked pretty relaxed and comfortable sitting there.

“So we like to start by asking our guests how they're really doing," Sasha stated.

Michael exhaled dramatically.

“Busy,” Michael exhaled. "I've just been trying not to stress myself out too much with everything going on."

Everybody laughed instantly.

“That makes sense becuase you're having a crazy year right now,” Alexis said. "I mean we're hearing about project after project that you're either producing or directing, press for this new movie, and wedding planning. That's just too much."

"Yeah, it's a lot, but I'm happy though," Michael rubbed his chin while nodding his head.

"Okay let's get right into it. We like to ask our guests three questions that will let us in a little bit more. We got one for the mind, one for the body, and one for the soul."

"Let's do it," Michael stated enthusiastically.

“A question for the mind,” Sasha looked down at her card. "What's something new you learned this week? It can either be what you learned about yourself or something new you learned in general."

Michael hummed thoughtfully for a second before saying, “That I actually don’t like being away from home this much. I used to be way better at constantly moving around and traveling. But lately, I been wanting to sit still and slow down more.”

"Well, you know that's what comes with getting to that settling down phase in your life."

"And I'm ready for it. Truly."

"On to a question for the soul," Sasha switched to the next question on the card. "What's something you're proud of about yourself this week?"

“Honestly, I'm proud of myself for really locking in and focusing. When I said I learned how to slow down, it was because I did focus on certain things more. I'll have more time to spend with my family coming up soon.”

“A question for the body. This one's gonna get us a good start into the rest of the episode.What's your position of the week?"

"Man, y'all ain't wasting no time, huh?" Michael dropped his head down as he picked at his pants.

“Aye, I'm sure you watched some of our episodes before. We get started early,” Malcolm said.

Michael lifted his head, chuckling while trying to think of an answer. And truthfully, they acually hadn't been having much sex lately. Wunmi had been on her period most of the week, and they'd been too busy and tired before then. But outside of that, his mind went to a place so specific. He loved how Wunmi felt on top of him. The eye contact they would have and the feel of her thick thighs straddling him. He couldn't get enough.

Michael rubbed his jaw trying to compose himself, then he muttered, "Her on top, probably."

“I know that's right! Baby, you better ride that man,” Alexis said dramatically as she glanced over at Wunmi.

Even though he said it, Michael instantly got flustered shaking his head. His eyes slid to Wunmi too and she looked a little flustered as well. She was awkwardly smiling while staring off to the side.

“Be glad, because riding is a lot of work.”

“Yeah, it is,” Wunmi called out from the couch across the room making everybody laugh. The producers knew they would have to make sure her voice would be edited out in the final piece.

"Nah, every time a woman say she wanna ride, two minutes later she tired," Malcolm said looking completely unconvinced.

"That is not true," Alexis looked offended.

"It is true," Malcolm shrugged lazily. "And then as soon as I take over now she all mad talking 'bout 'I was doing fine.' No you wasn't"

Everybody laughed at the way Malcolm had said it.

"But then y'all start doing too much," Alexis countered. 

"She's right," Michael nodded.

"Come on man. How you gone do me like that?" Malcolm looked over at him betrayed.

“Thank you! Men always think harder means better,” Alexis said.

“Not always. But I do agree riding takes a lot of work. Them thighs gotta be strong," Michael leaned back in his chair.

Right then, the bartender appeared behind the setup carrying a tray of shots.

“It's shot o'clock,” she announced.

"What's that?" Michael’s eyebrows lifted.

"We do a few rounds every episode. Of course, you don't have to do all of them, but KJ does a good job at not making them strong," Sasha explained.

"KJ why don't you explain this for us," Alexis stated.

The bartender started placing glasses down one by one in front of everybody, including Wunmi.

"This shot is called the Bartender's Wet Dream. It's supposed to be this sweet and creamy drink. There's grenadine, Irish cream, you could do any coffee liquer but I used Kahlua, and a bit of whip cream on top," The bartender smiled proudly. 

Everybody lifted their glasses and cheersed as they clinked them together. They threw them back and Michael blinked hard at the strong taste of it. 

“It's time for our next segment that we like to call the Kinky Corner. We'll ask you a few rapid fire questions that you have toanswer without thinking too hard of them."

"Let's go," michael rubbed his hands together trying to get himself ready for these sets of questions.

“Lights on or off?”

“On,” Michael answered almost instantly. "I gotta see all that."

“Music or no music?”

“It depends. Sometimes we don’t even got time for music. Just get straight to business.”

“What’s the go to playlist?” Sasha asked as a follow up.

“90s R&B.”

"Exactly. I need smooth and something we can grind to."

"Nah, sometimes that shit be too slow," Malcolm shook his head.

“See Malcolm like that hard nigga shit,” Alexis joked.

"And what? They got something for every moment and don't act like y'all don't like it too."

The questions kept coming. Morning or night. Slow or rough. Favorite place to kiss. And despite the explicit and slightly invasive questions, Michael felt comfortable enough to answer them all while still keeping certain details to himself. He was completely relaxed.

The jokes and conversation toned down to something a little more serious. The conversation had taken a natural turn.

“I actually wanna ask you something real,” Alexis set up.

"What's up?" Michael nodded.

“How does it honestly feel being considered like everybody’s fantasy man?” Michael chuckled under his brethren, but Alexis kept going. “No seriously. Because you’ve been considered attractive basically your whole career, but especially these last few years. It’s become this huge consistent thing. And people are genuinely obsessed with you.”

“Yeah, I see it all,”

“But does that put pressure on you to act a certain way? Or do people expect you to treat women adn relationships a certain way. I know you're getting married now, but has this been a thing for you?" 

Michael seriously thought about the question. He rubbed his hand across his jaw as he thought about it.

“At this point. I'm kind of used to it,” he admitted honestly. "I don't let it affect me personally, but I've had issues in past relationships because of it. And it wasn't because the women I was with were insecure or anything like that. A lot of times it was more about how tht public interacted with me and by extension with them. That's honestly part of why I was so intentional with making sure this relationship was so private. My fiancée was never and is never insecure abit where she stands with me."

“Do you think some of it comes from fans though? Because I’ve seen how parasocial both women and men can get with celebrities they find attractive.”

Michael wanted to gather his thoughts properly on this part. He knew exactly what she was talking about, but he also very clearly didn't want to disrespect his supporters either. Especially since he had so many women who loved him.

“I love my fans and I appreciate all the love they've shown me,” he started honestly, but paused. “But I do think there’s certain lines that shouldn’t be crossed sometimes. And for me those lines get crossed a lot.”

“Like the woman that asked you to sign her birth control?” Sasha asked.

“Yeah, that did happen," Michael dropped his head while shaking it slightly in disbelief. "I ain't even know what to do really."

Across the room, Wunmi tilted her head slightly before subtly rolling her eyes. She remembered Michael telling her when it happened and then seeing the video. Women really did lose their minds over him and her man was far too nice and charming to push them away.

“But I get it though. Women be weird with me too and I barely even post online,” Malcolm stated.

“Nobody asked you Malcolm,” Alexis butted in.

“And Imma still talk,” Malcolm slid in. “But people project fantasies onto you when they attracted to you.”

“That’s exactly what it is,” Michael agreed.

The conversation went on with them talking about how people reduced attractive celebrities down to just being fine, and how easy it was for them to forget that they were actual people. They spoke about social media changing people's access to celebrities and how it made fans feel more entitled to them. Michael admitted that sometimes it did get exhausting to be viewed that way.

“Especially when you're in a serious relationship, because it's not affecting just you,” he added. "It affects the person you love too."

“Well from the outside looking in I will say that I love the direction you've taken with your relationship. Knowing who it is and how y'all move individually, it all makes sense.”

But before they could continue talking, KJ walked over carrying a tray of drinks.

“For this next round I made everyone personalized drinks, so no one has the same," she said while moving to hand each person their drink.

"I know there was just this conversation about being so sexualized in this time, but I had to. For Michael I have a liquid panty dropper," Michael smirked and shook his head as he took the drink. "There's half an ounce of vodka, half an ounce of gin, half an ounce of coconut rum, half an ounce of peach schnapps, a quarter ounce of triple sec, pineapple juice and orange juice."

Michael drank a sip and hummed at the taste. It was actually pretty good and not too fruity like he expected.

Alexis's kinky blow pop drink was an all pink drink with a pink sugar rim, and an actual blow pop inside. Malcolm's dark liquor heavy cocktail was called the booty clap. Sasha's drink was a regular sex on the beach. And even Wunmi got one, a Love Potion Number 69. It had tequila, triple sec, grenadine, pomegranate juice, orange juice, and lime juice.

Then they all settled back into place sipping their drinks and easign right back into conversation.

"Sasha and I were talking about some of you're characters and their relationships, and we realized that a few of them are very toxic with their relationships with women. Like Killmonger, Smoke and Stack," Sasha stated.

"They're not weird toxic though," Alexis stated. "They're just dominant and aggressive. But to me that's mostly for Smoke and Stack because didn't Killmonger kill his girlfriend?"

"Yeah, but it was more to it," Michael responded.

"Sinners really just showed me that women like that kinda shit," Malcolm added.

“Yes, but to a certain extent. Like you can flip me over and choke me a little bit, but you still need to make me breakfast in the morning. Rub my feet, open my doors, and be sweet to me in public. There has to be a balance and that's bare minimum," Alexis added on.

"I think that's why I gravitated to Smoke more," Sasha spoke up. " He was all big man strong man, but when he came down to Annie, he practically melted. He was so soft, yet so rough."

"I will say when filming all of that between Smoke and Annie came out so naturally," Michael said.

"I bet," Sasha smirked as her eyes flicked to Wunmi on the couch. Michael chuckled while Wunmi just smiled.

"And then my question is, I'm sure plenty of people have asked you this, but which twin do you feel you're more connected to?"

"Definitely Smoke. Especially right now in my life. I do try to be softer with my woman, but sometimes she brings that dog outta me," everybody laughed at that.

"Aye I get it, 'cause you got to put that foot down when she being a brat," Malcolm calmly said.

Michael simply nodded his head, but that seemed to set something off. Wunmi let out an offended scoff from her position on the couch. Her legs and arms were crossed as she stared right through him.

"You good?" Michael tilted his head as he recognized the look on his woman's face.

"I'm fine, Michael."

"Yeah, okay," Michael smirked and scoffed as he lifted up his drink to take a sip.

The conversaton continued as they turned to talk about relationships and settling down. What it meant to grow as a person and to allow someone to go on that journey with you. Eventually they somehow ended back on the subject of intimacy and their preferences.

"So how do you feel about women, your woman, calling you daddy?" Alexis asked.

“I mean I don’t necessarily force it but it happens,” Michael shrugged his shoulders. "And I honestly think it depends on the woman. I think for me and mine it's more about trust than the actual word. My fiancée's a very strong, independent, and confident woman. She doesn't need me or any man to survive or take care of her. She's going ot be who she is regardless. And that's one of the things i love about her. So when she calls me that, it's not really about the word itself, it's showing trust and vulnerability. Especially coming from somebody who doesn't give that up so easily, I don't take it lightly."

"I just love how you talk about her and your relationship. It just shows you really love her," Sasha gushed.

"I got to, that's my baby."

They cooed as their eyes went from Michael to Wunmi who was sitting with a flustered adorable smile on her face.

"And it's not like you talk about just your fiancée with respect. You talk that way about women in general and I truly admire that. A lot of men in the industry don't do that even though it's the bare minimum," Alexis added.

"I think being a 'good man' should exist outside of relationships. A woman shouldn't have to teach you basic respect. A lot of men wait until they meet the 'right woman' to become a better man and that's not fair to her. Being considered a good man shouldn't depend on who you're with," Michael cleared his throat. "A woman can inspire growth, sure. She can encourage and support you, but it's not her job to teach you things you should alreayd be working towards on your own. At the end of the day I want our relationship to feel safe for both of us."

The conversation completely shifted away from sex and relationships after that. They started to talk about the usual things he had been discussing during this press run. Like how it felt to direct and act while producing other projects. He talked about producing for young filmmakers, wanting to create more inclusive opportunities with his production company.

“Alright before we wrap this up we have to know. It's been a year since the audio leak, and we know you're engaged now so we're not trying to be disrespectful. But who was it?”

"Was it your fiancée?"

Michael looked at Wunmi who was staring right back at him. She had the straw of her drink in her mouth as they communicated with no words. She gave him a nod as a signal for him to go ahead.

He blushed a little as laughed quietly, "Of course. Who else was it gonna be?"

End of February, 2027

It was premiere day and the house was in absolute chaos. People from both teams were moving around carrying garment bags, makeup palettes, and shoes. It was a nonstop rush of movement.

Michael and Wunmi were somehow supposed to be calm. Even though today was the day they would reveal their relationship to the world. There would be no more hiding or vague wording after tonight.

Wunmi stood in front of the mirror while her hairstylist made sure her braided buns where pinned properly. The white dress hugged her body perfectly, draping around her frame like silk wrapped by hand. One shoulder stayed bare while the fabric gathered and fell dramatically over the other side of her body. It was elegant and sexy. A point was being made with the color and style, showing something bridal without actually being a bridal dress.

Michael stood in the doorway almost completely dressed, watching her through the mirror in silence.

The black suit he wore was tailored to perfection. With a simple dark button down underneath and a black tie, all he needed was his long black jacket that would complete his look. 

There was an intentional contrast between them with Michael wearing all dark colors and Wunmi wearing pure white. And while they looked absolutely amazing separately, they looked sexy as hell together.

"Stop coming in here to stare at me. You're making everybody nervous," Wunmi smiled softly to herself while adjusting one of her bracelets.

“I’m nervous though,” he admitted honestly.

That made her turn around to really look at him.

He slowly walked into the room. His eyes focused in on only her despite the people moving around her. He ignored everyone stopping directly behind her. 

She smiled at him, trying not to move too much as her hairstylist finally finished and stepped away.

Michael's eyes softened the longer he stared at her. He leaned down a placed a gentle kiss to her exposed shoulder. Wunmi's left hand lifted up to rub the side of his head, her ring glistening in the light.

“We both know that I'm nervous, but are you okay?"

"I think so," she nodded slowly.

He let out a relaxed hum just before someone called out that it was time for them to leave. He kissed her forehead, making sure he wouldn't mess up anything. He walked her downstairs with his hand pressed against har back. 

When they got outside, the chaos followed as their teams both crowded the driveway. Michael opened the door to the backseat for her. He gathered the white fabric of her dress in his hands so she could step inside without snagging on anything.

Once she was settled in her seat, Michael leaned down to try to kiss her. She stopped him with a hand on his chest.

“I have lip gloss on,” she reminded quietly.

"I don't car about that damn lip gloss," Michael rolled his eyes a little.

She laughed and grabbed at his tie giving him a quick kiss anyway. He looked at her for an extra second then shut the car door. He watched the car drive away and disappear down the street. Then his own car pulled up. He slipped inside. 

A while later the car pulled up to the premiere and the energy was unbelievable. Fans and press lined up along the carpet screaming and shouting excitedly to see their favorite celebrities. Famous people walked the carpet, stopping to take pictures for the photographers that were frantically calling their names. 

The setup was massive for the premiere. Michael's name was giant lettering across the back wall, along with the title of the movie in white letters. The carpet was black with elegant gold lighting that perfectly matched the film's aesthetic.

As he stepped out of the car, it was like the whole area lost their minds. All he could hear was screaming as he put one foot in front of the other. A big, easy, and confident smile took over his face. He waved at the fans as he properly stepped onto the carpet for pictures. He took his solo pictures, playing into the excitement while still maintaining his professionalism and charm. 

Then when the interviews came, he could barely contain his own happiness. And the interviewers could tell. One interviewer even called him out on it by asking how he was feeling tonight.

"Man…I'm very excited. Tonight's a big night for me."

After his solo press, the cast joined him for group pictures. Adria hugged him tight while photographers yelled for them to pose together. Danai soon joined after and they stood together posing for the camera. Some others from the cast joined them and they all took group pictures, and split off to do a few group interviews. 

Michael tried to stay mostly engaged, but his attention kept drifting. Eventually, after finishing an interview with Adria, he looked to the side where his publicist stood. She caught his eye and gave him a small nod. His face instantly lit up at the confirmation.

Wunmi's car pulled up to the edge of the carpet, and Michael practically floated across the carpet with how smooth and fast he made his way to the other side. He reached the backseat door before security even thought about moving. 

As he opened the door, it seemed that everyone on the carpet was holding their breath. Maybe today would be the day, and they were all excited to see who this mystery woman was.

Wunmi placed her hand in his while flashes went off around them since photographers wanted to capture the moment she stepped out. 

Michael steadied her while she stepped out, making sure the white fabric of her dress didn’t catch underneath her heels. The draped material flowed against her glowing skin. He instinctively shifted his body in front of hers to create a small barrier between her and the chaos of people.

“You ready baby?” He asked lowly enough only she could hear.

"Yes, I'm ready," Wunmi smiled at him.

He held his arm out for her and she wrapped her hand around it. There was a natural ease between them that couldn't be manufactured. 

They slowly started down the carpet together while cameras flashed and people screamed their names. Some people were confused while others were just excitedly screaming. Michael made sure to keep up with her steps, wanting to be as close to her as he could get.

They started posing for pictures , sticking with simple side by side poses withe Michael's arm around her waist. When they heard the voice of one photographer asking to see the ring, they couple smiled at each other. Wunmi rested her left hand against Michael's chest while they posed. The ring sparkled gorgeously under the lights.

Michael looked down at her hand and grinned. Then grabbed the hand and kissed it. Wunmi laughed softly, her cheeks warming a little while he pressed another kiss against her cheek afterward.

After a while Michael stepped aside enough for her to do some solo shots. He stood with his arms folded watching her with a crazy amount of joy on his face while she posed for the cameras.

Eventually they were guided toward the handpicked interview spots. The first interviewer looked genuinely stunned.

“Well, can I just say congratulations to you both! This was genuinely a big surprise for us all,” both of them laughed. Michael rubbed his thumb against Wunmi’s waist absentmindedly while the interviewer tried to regain composure.

"No wonder why the chemistry from Sinners was a little too good."

They smiled at each other before Wunmi decided to respond, “I think as actors it’s our job to create believable chemistry with whoever we’re working with. But I think what surprised both of us was the real connection we built while filming and afterward.”

Michael barely paid very little attention to the interviewer as he stared at her, completely locked in on the way she spoke.

“So when’s the wedding?”

Michael and Wunmi looked at each other briefly before Wunmi said, “Soon.”

“That’s all y’all getting tonight,” Michael laughed.

The interview wrapped and Michael thanked the interviewer before guiding Wunmi away with his hand spread against her back. He leaned down and kissed her cheek again while walking.

“I’m really happy you’re here,” he admitted quietly.

"Where else would I be?"

Once they moved inside the theater, things were far calmer. People were chatting and greeting each as attendants helped others to their seats. Michael led them to the reserved section for the cast and some special guests. Not long after getting settled in their seats, the lights dimmed and the room quieted down.

Wunmi didn't quite know what to expect from the movie, but what she did know was that her man was fine. Every time Michael appeared on screen he looked ridiculously good and dangerous and expensive. Between his confidence and his natural charisma that blared through the screen, she didn't know what made her hotter.

Halfway through the movie, Wunmi's hand ended up resting on his thigh. And at first it was innocent light touches and slow rubs as they watched the movie unfold. But the longer the movie went on, the more her touches became distracted and lingering.

And of course Michael noticed. Especially during one particular scene when her nails started lightly dragging against his thigh. He smirked to himself.

By the time the movie was about to end, Wunmi's hand had moved inward like she was looking for something. He calmly reached down, grabbed her hand, and brought it to his mouth for a kiss.

“You okay?” he whispered.

Wunmi just hummed quietly and kept her eyes forward.

That answer made Michael chuckle under his breath because he knew exactly what that meant. He lowered her hand back onto his thigh, but he kept his own hand wrapped firmly over hers.

The movie ended to loud applause throughout the theater. Michael squeezed Wunmi’s hand once before standing along with the rest of the cast. He hugged a few cast members and basked in the praises.

The cast stood at the front for the Q&A portion. Moderators asked questions about filming, their characters, the action scenes, and inspirations. Michael answered each question proudly and passionately.

The Q&A portion finished and everyone was ready to transition to the afterparty portion of the night.

Michael immediately moved back to Wunmi once the lights came up.

He automatically held his hand out for her. She took it and stood, though she stayed closer to him than before, almost tucked into his side. They walked out with the crowd while security cleared pathways around them.

“You wanna go to the afterparty or do you want to go home?” he asked quietly.

“I’ll go with you to the party.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

He studied her face briefly then nodded, “Okay.”

After saying goodbye to several people, they walked outside to Michael's waiting car. He opened the car door for her, like usual. He waited until she was fully settled inside before shutting the door. Then he went to the other side of the car and climbed in beside her.

Wunmi slid close the second Michael settled into the backseat, pressing her body flush against his side. The driver glanced at them through the rearview mirror.

"Ready when you are, sir."

"We're ready." The driver nodded and took off.

Michael started to reach for his phone but caught Wunmi shaking her head out of the corner of his eye. She lightly grabbed his jaw, turning his head toward her. 

“You look really good,” she murmured, eyes darkening as she stared at him.

Michael recognized the look, it had been building in her all night. 

“Thanks baby. You look beautiful,” he replied.

He rubbed her thigh, his large palm sliding over the fabric of her dress. She grabbed his hand and pushed it higher up on her leg. 

“Uh huh, what else?”

“I love you so much,” he said quietly, “and I can’t wait to call you my wife.”

She smiled, then leaned in to kiss him, going right for it. Michael allowed the kiss but noticed how heated it became so quickly. Wunmi moaned into his mouth, making him chuckle low against her lips. She tried to reach for his hand and push it under her long dress, but he pulled away with a firm hand on her side. 

He turned toward the driver.

“We're gonna go home instead,” he called.

Wunmi didn’t care about the driver anymore. She ignored him and kept kissing Michael’s cheek, then his neck, her body pressed impossibly close to him. 

The driver nodded and replied that the route back home with this traffic would be about forty-five minutes to an hour. Michael said it was fine, and requested the driver turn the music up. The driver looked in the rearview to see how close Wunmi was and where she was kissing and he turned the volume higher.

Michael reached forward and pressed the button for the partition. The closed divider rose slowly separating the front and the back. As soon as it was up, Wunmi pulled Michael in for another kiss, grabbing his hand to push it up under her dress.

As they continued kissing, Michael's hand went exploring further up her bare thigh to her panties. His fingers pushed past the thin fabric to start playing with her.

Wunmi breathed heavily into his mouth, whimpering as he toyed with her clit and dragged his fingers up and down along her slit. One of her hands gripped his thigh tight, trying to keep herself steady. 

"Did you miss me?" Michael whispered against her lips.

Wunmi bit her lip and nodded, her body hungry for him.

Michael smirked and slipped a single finger inside her, pushing it deep. Wunmi instantly clenched around him. 

"Damn, baby," Michael groaned.

He started fingering her, fingers circling and stroking through her wetness, while they continued kissing. Wunmi moaned in his mouth and subtly rocked back and forth on his hand. He slowly added another finger, then a third when she got used to those two.

He moved his fingers at a steady rhythm. Luckily, the music was loud enough to swallow her moans. Each thrust of his fingers hit her deep, building her up at a good pace. She pulled back from the kiss, panting, and leaned her head against his shoulder, rocking desperately against his hand.

Michael pulled his fingers out slowly and brought them to his mouth, tasting her on his tongue. 

"Lean back," he instructed commandingly.

Wunmi scooted back until her shoulders met the car door, watching him with low heavy eyes. He pushed her dress up, bunching the fabric around her wais. She helped him by lifting her hips so he could slide the material out of the way. He didn't want to mess up his suit, but he needed to taste her.

Her chest rose and fell, staring at him while he settled between her legs. Before he could lower his head, she grabbed his collar and pulled him in for another kiss.

The kiss was nasty and wet until Michael pulled back, breathing ragged. He kissed her cheek, her jaw, then trailed his lips down her neck, tasting skin and perfume. Wunmi’s hands went to his head, pushing it lower to where she needed him the most.

“Michael please,” she gasped while pushing her hips up to him. "I waited too long."

Michael gave in, lowering his head to her center and parted her folds with his tongue. The first flat stroke made her gasp, her fingers grasping for anything. He ate her out with slow, deliberate intent. He lapped at her clit then sucked gently. His tongue traveled down, searching for something and not stopping until he found it. His tongue moved around her in a way that had her lips lifting off of the seat.

Wunmi moaned, one hand went to the back of his head to holding him there, and the other reached blindly for the seat under her. Michael was relentless in trying to build her up quickly to the point that she could hardly breathe. Every flick, lick, and suck sent shockwaves straight to her core.

It didn’t take long for her to come in his mouth, her release flowed on his tongue. Her thighs trembled as she cried out. He licked her clean, savoring every drop, then gave her clit one last slow, lingering suck before pulling away.

He moved up her body and kissed her, letting her taste herself. She moaned into the kiss while her hands went from fumbling with his pants to pushing his coat off his shoulders. She kept going until his suit jacket was off and his shirt was unbuttoned to reveal some chest. 

She pushed him back so he was sitting properly in the seat, then straddled his lap, rocking slowly against the hard length she could feel straining beneath her. She reached between them to free his long and thick from his boxer briefs. When he was out enough, she wrapped her hand around him and gave him a few slow and gentle strokes that pulled groans from his chest.

She kept stroking him, trying to build him up just as much as he'd built her, but it wasn't going to take long. 

"Stop. Let me put in you," he breathed, voice strained while he gently gripped her wrist.

He gave her a couple soft pecks on the lips. After the last one Wunmi lifted herself up, but her dress started to slid down as she moved to properly straddle him. Michael helped by gathering the material and holding it above her hips. 

She shifted her panties to the side, then gently sank down onto him, taking him inch by thick inch. They both moaned at the perfect feel of the stretch. Wunmi kissed him again as she began to ride him with a teasing rhythm. She lifted and lowered herself with such easy control.

"Stop playing and ride my dick right," Michael smacked her ass, the sound echoing but then drowning from the music.

She leaned in close, whispering against his lips, "I can do what I want." 

And she kept going ever so slowly.

“You better quit playing,” he grunted, smacking his teeth in frustration. His hands gripped her plush ass cheeks, fingers digging into the soft jiggly flesh. “Come on, baby.”

She finally gave in, her hips moving at a steadier, determined pace. They both moaned as she bounced on him with purpose.

Wunmi set one hand against the sliver of his bare chest, feeling the hard muscle beneath her palm. The other hand gripped the back of the seat for leverage as she rode him trying to chase her orgasm.

Michael cursed under his breath as she clenched tight around him. Her walls gripped him perfectly with every bounce. His hands slid to the outside of her thighs, holding her steady as she moaned right into his ear.

"Give me some more bounce, baby," he smacked her ass again, loving the way the thick meat vibrated on his knee.

"I'm t-tryin—Fuck," she gasped, picking up the pace just a little. 

Her head fell onto his shoulder as curses and gasps left her mouth each time she dropped down on him.

"This pussy is so damn good. I love you," he said after groaning. He lifted his hips to meet her drops.

Wunmi felt her legs start to tremble and her stomach tightened. She bit her lip trying to hold herself back, completely determined not to let go yet.

"This your dick, right?"

Wunmi nodded just as a moan spilled out.

Michael hummed in approval. His hands slid over her hips, her waist then to the curve of her heavy breasts. At the feel of his hands, Wunmi slowed her rhythm down, enjoying the stretch he was giving her. But Michael didn't miss it.

"Why you slowing down, huh?" he growled, hands tightening on her hips. 

She gasped when he thrust up giving her a sharp, deep stroke that made her eyes roll back. She took the warning for what it was and picked up her pace again. But when she did, her panties started to slid awkwardly to the side, so she reached back, pulling the thin fabric up on her ass cheek so it didn't restrict her movements.

"There you go, show Daddy you can ride," Michael rubbed her ass, then kissed her cheek. 

Wunmi moaned at the kisses, her stomach coiling tighter. She was rigght there and all she could was bite hard into her lower lip.

He noticed the way her fingers were lightly scratching at his chest. 

"You wanna cum?" he asked, voice low.

She shook her head, biting her lip harder, but a needy moan slipped out anyway.

Michael narrowed his eyes, seeing right through her own denial. So he decided to take matters into his own hands. He gripped her ass with one hand and her waist with the other, pulling her tight against him so her large breasts pressed flush against his chest. He planted his feet on the floor of the car, and began thrusting up into her with strokes that made the leather seat groan beneath them.

Wunmi let out a mix of moans. Her voice breaking as a “Shit,” tumbled out of her mouth. her voice breaking with every impact. He kept thrusting, and she whined out, “You’re going to make me cum.”

“That’s what you’re supposed to do,” he said, not slowing down.

Wunmi wrapped her arms tight around his neck, her mouth dropping open as pleasure coiled tighter. She suddenly clenched hard around him, making him cuss again, but he didn’t break rhythm.

Her body tensed up and a sharp cry tearing from her throat as she came on him. He didn’t stop thrusting, helping her ride through it. Wunmi was in such a state of shock. Her mind absolutely turned to mush andbody slightly trembling from the aftershocks of her orgasm. 

"Put your ass up for me, baby," Michael pulled out of her slowly, his voice low and commanding.

Without hesitation, Wunmi moved into the doggy position, with one leg bent on the backseat and the other was braced on the floor. She arched her back, putting her ass high in the air.

Michael lined up behind her, smacking her ass cheek as he was trying to get settled. She gasped from the sting. He teasingly ran his tip up and down her slit a few times before sliding inside her in one smooth thrust. He rubbed the round flesh, falling into a trance. His hips moved on their own, sliding even further inside.

Wunmi pushed back against him to meet his slow thrusts. The pace started to pick up steadily. It wasn't too slow or too fast. She whimpered out a "Fuck," as her head fell forward onto the seat. One of her hands tightly gripped the seat.

"It's so big," she gasped out when Michael went a little too deep, hitting a spot that made her vision blur for a second. Her mouth dropped open and a raw moan flowed out.

Wunmi could feel her stomach tightening again. It was approaching faster than the first time. She was going to try her hardest to hold on this time. But even through her own restraint she could feel Michael was holding back, trying to prolong both of their orgasms.

"Give me more, Daddy," she whined while looking over shoulder. Her eyes wereglazed over with need.

"You sure, baby?" He raised an eyebrow. 

"Yes," she moaned out.

He gripped her waist hard and started fucking her with deep, quick, punishing strokes that made her cry out loud. The music in the car wasn’t doing a good job of hiding her moans anymore. With every thrust, they spilled out completely unfiltered. 

"You love this dick?"

"Yes, I love it," Wunmi nodded frantically, gasping, 

He kept thrusting feeling the pressure in his own stomach building fast. He groaned through gritted teeth, "You gon' make me come with all this ass bouncing on my shit."

"I want you to come in me, Daddy. Let me have your baby," she moaned out, pushing her hips back to meet him when she felt his dick pulse in her.

"Fuck, baby. I can't come in you. Remember? You're ovulating, mama," Michael grunted, attempting to hold himself back.

"Get me pregnany, baby," Wunmi whined while trying to milk him on purpose by clenching tight around him.

He groaned feeling himself tip over the edge. At the last second, he pulled out of her, making her whine in frustration. He stroked himself fast, his release right there. 

"Open your mouth," he ordered, voice strained.

Wunmi quickly turned around with her mouth open just in time. His come landed thick and warm on her tongue. He groaned her name as she swallowed every drop. 

Michael moved to tuck himself back into his boxer briefs, but Wunmi grabbed his wrist to stop him. She looked up at him, pouting softly, “Why didn’t you just come in me like I asked?”

He chuckled low, leaning in to kiss her forehead. 

“We agreed to wait, baby,” he said gently, pulling her hand away and finishing tucking himself in. 

They both began fixing their clothes. Once they were settled back into the seats, he continued, “You’d be upset if you got pregnant right now. The wedding’s coming up, and it’s summer. You want to deal with that?”

Wunmi pouted more but didn’t argue, her expression shifting to reluctant acceptance. She leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder. 

“Okay,” she murmured after a moment. “I guess I can wait.”

He kissed the top of her head and wrapped an arm around her. 

Day of the Oscar’s, March 13th, 2027

The entire night was surreal from the second Wunmi opened her eyes to stepping on the carpet. This was her second year in a row going through awards season press, but there was something different in the air with this one.

Now she was sitting in the Dolby Theatre, trying not to look like she was seconds from throwing up. Michael could feel the nerves rolling off of her despite how calm she appeared on the outside. Her posture was perfect, smile composed, and she answered interview questions with grace. Nobody else would be able to tell how hard she'd been squeezing his hand all night.

She looked good with her shimmering gold gown, and Michael spent the entire evening making sure any attention was on her. He had been attached to her hip all night. Whenever interviewers tried shifting the topic to their relationship or his work, he redirected it right back to her career. Even on the carpet during pictures, he made sure she had her solo moments, and for their duo pictures he subtly positioned himself behind her or to the side so the photographers naturally centered her.

Now they sat side by side waiting for the category to come up. Wunmi's mother sat a few seats down from them. Michael's thumb rubbed slowly against the back of Wunmi's hand, which did little to actually calm her nerves, but she appreciated it.

The ceremony moved quickly through the host monologue and a few early categories before finally the Best Supporting Actress category was announced. 

Wunmi's fingers tightened painfully around his hand as the presenter announced the nominees. The clips from everyone played on the giant screen and applause followed each performance. When her name was called and her clip played, the applause that followed was a touch louder than the others. Wunmi smiled adorably when the cameras found her.

When the nominees were finished, genuinely couldn't hear anything anymore. Everything sounded distant and muted like she was underwater as the presenter slowly opened the envelope.

“And the Oscar goes to…” The pause felt endless. 

“…Wunmi Mosaku.”

The room instantly burst into applause and everyone stood up excitement. Michael shot up from his own seat so fast that he practically tilted over.

While everyone was crowding around her, Wunmi sat there frozen trying to process what she'd just heard. Her eyes were wide in shock yet glazed over with tears. Michael leaned down and gently grabbed her face.

“Baby, you won.”

That snapped her back into reality. She laughed in absolute disbelief. She was emotional and overwhelmed as she leaned forward to kiss him. 

“I’m so proud of you,” he said.

Wunmi’s mother reached her, pulling her into a tight hug while people around them clapped and congratulated her nonstop. Her castmates stood around cheering her on as well. 

Michael helped her stand, putting a hand on her waist to keep her steady once she stood on her two feet.

“You gotta go up there,” he said smiling widely.

"Oh my God," she laughed shakily.

“You got it, baby."

She moved around trying to figure out where she was going. Everything in her mind was fuzzy and all over the place. She was too emotional to be certain of what she was doing. Michael softly pushed her forward and out into the aisle where people were reaching out and cheering for her. So many people that she admired were congratulating her and she didn't know what to do with herself.

Michael kept one arm around her to lead her to the stage. His hand stayed firm against the small of her back, grounding her. When they approached the stairs, he held her hand to help her up the stairs, not caring about anything but making sure his woman was okay. 

When they reached the final step, Wunmi squeezed his hand then stepped forward on her own. The applause was still going strong as she accepted the award with trembling hands. She looked down at it as if she couldn't believe that it was real. The stage lights shining on her face made her eyes water. 

She stepped in front of the microphone, her chest rising and falling quickly as she tried to steady herself. The room finally started to quiet down for her speech, but an unmistakeable voice penetrated through the last of the claps.

"That's my girl!" 

The sound of Michael's voice caused several people to laugh, including Wunmi herself. A wet laugh came out as tears slipped from her eyes. She shook her head and leaned closer to the mic.

“Wow…I really was not expecting this. I know everybody says that, but I genuinely mean it,” the audience chuckled.

Wunmi inhaled deeply, trying to compose herself. Even overwhelmed, she still carried herself with a thoughtful grace. She first thanked the academy, her castmates and crew, and Aaron Sorkin for putting her in the role. Then she moved on to her family.

“To my mother and my family…thank you for loving me through every version of myself. Thank you for never making me feel like my dreams were too big. Thank you to my team for carrying me through this season because there were days where I fenuinely thought I couldn't do it anymore."

Michael watched from the audience with his chin resting against his fist, eyes glossy. He couldn’t stop smiling. Every time she looked toward the crowd with that happy, grateful smile, his expression somehow softened even more.

Wunmi blinked away tears before continuing.

Her grip tightened around the Oscar.

“And to Michael…I love you. Thank you for being patient with me. Thank you for supporting me through every breakdown and every moment where I doubted myself. You’ve made these last few years feel safe for me. Thank you for always reminding me that I deserve to take up space.”

Michael’s face tense up with emotion as emotion hit him. He nodded his head once, acknowledging her statement to him.

Wunmi let out one final shaky breath and looked down at the award in disbelief, “This is unbelievable. Thank you so much.”

The room erupted in applause again as she stepped away from the microphone. She walked backstage clutching the Oscar tight to her body. PAs guided her through the backstage area trying to lead her back to her seat.

When she got back to the row, Michael was standing there waiting for her. Luckily it was a commercial break, so she had proper time to attempt to digest things. The second she was close enough, he wrapped both arms around her and pulled her into his chest. Wunmi melted into him, letting herself really cry now. Tears slipped down her cheeks as she laughed breathlessly against him.

Michael kissed the side of her head.

“I’m so proud of you, baby. You deserve every single bit of this," Michael whispered.

Wunmi could only nod against him, overwhelmed beyond words. Eventually she pulled back enough for him to help her sit down. She settled into her seat with her Oscar in her lap, staring ahead and trying to process what had just happened. 

Michael sat beside her, unable to stop looking at her. His fiancée was now an Oscar winner.

“So, you know we gotta celebrate right?” he murmured as he leaned in close to her ear.

Wunmi scoffed through her tears and turned to look at him, "It's not going to go like last time."

He chuckled under his breath and reached over to rub her fabric covered thigh.

“Fine, we don't have to record it.”

The pressure around this table was oppressive and suffocating. Annie's heart was pounding hard in her chest, accelerating its rhythm.

Elijah's gaze, which had been fixed on her for about fifteen minutes, was unsettling. His lustful eyes were locked on her swollen tits, outlined through the shirt she was wearing. Even after months of breastfeeding, her nipples were still leaking milk, so she avoided wearing bras that would rub against them.

"Oh, thank you for joining us, Smoke. It's been a while, and I was hoping we could spend some time together, haha. You'll see, Annie is a real cordon bleu," Joseph enthused before digging into his plate.

"You have a lovely wife, Joseph. This meal looks absolutely delicious..." Elijah whispered, his eyes lingering on Annie's generous bosom, which was struggling to contain its voluptuous sweetness. "I can't wait for dessert," he added, picking up a fork.

"Come on! One thing at a time man."

The two men burst into hearty laughter, while Annie's body reacted instinctively to Smoke's insinuations.

Her fat, sticky wet clit flattened, sprawled across the cotton of her panties, soaking the fabric thoroughly.

Turned on by how risky the situation was, her pussy pumped away, unpunished. With every breath she took, her grainy tight walls squeezed and foamed with her juice.

A sudden caress on her calf made her cough nervously, trying to regain her composure despite the leering glances Elijah was giving her as he sat across from her.

Even more flustered, Annie clumsily dropped her spoon under the draped table with a dull thud.

"Be more careful, Annie..." Joseph grumbled authoritatively as she crouched on the floor, on all fours, searching for the utensil.

Then, all of a sudden, her husband's phone started ringing.

Still searching for what she'd dropped, she heard Joseph heading off after exchanging a few words with Elijah.

Annie sighed with relief when she finally found the spoon at his feet. She arched her back a bit more, her boobs smashed against the tiles and her ass up in the air, sucking the flimsy fabric of her skirt right into the crack of her rear.

As she backed away to crawl out from under the table, she felt something hot, soggy, thick, and veiny slap against her cheek; she blinked and glanced up to see Smoke's huge, erected cock dangling over her head, its tip already flushed deep brown and oozing pre-cum.

The spoon clattered against the floor tile.

Her eyes locked onto his penis, drinking in every inch — the way the shaft curved upward, the dark brown-purple flush of his tip, the way his balls hung low and full beneath.

Lord, it's so big , she thought, her mouth watering. Every time she happened to see that man's dick, all senses seemed to leave her mind. Her husband's pathetic tiny nub couldn't even compare to half of this.

without shame, Annie lolled her tongue out and flicked it gently against his cockhead, teasingly, tasting the salty fluid of his pre-cum. A soft moan escaped her throat as she did it again, swirling her tongue around the crown, lapping voraciously at the slit.

She craved it. Every thick part of it sliding past her glossy lips, stretching her jaw, filling her throat until she suffocates.

Her lips trailed down, fluttering kisses along his massive length before she reached his balls. She cupped them, rolling the sac in her palm, kneading the withered veins on the skin, before opening her mouth.

The crown of his dick pushed past her lips and she swallowed, her jaw straining against his girth, tongue squashing against the underside of his shaft as she took him deeper. Annie's eyes watered to his size, while her head bobbed, sloppy and desperate, saliva already dripping down her chin, pooling in the hollow of her throat.

She gagged once, twice, but didn't pull away. Her spit coated his cock, making it slick and easier for her to gulp more.

Her thighs clenched beneath the table, pussy burping and queefing wet.

She was focused on her head when suddenly she heard Joseph's footsteps— that familiar, impatient cadence —and snapped from her trance.

Her husband's voice, muffled through the hallway wall, grew closer.

"Alright, Marlene, I'll have those reports on your desk tomorrow by nine."

Annie's pulse kicked and slammed against her temples. She paused for mere seconds but didn't pull her glossy lips away from Elijah's meat.

Above her, through the tablecloth's hem, she caught the blur of his body tensing.

Joseph's slippers hissed against the dining room tile while he was walking to sit back in his chair.

"Please,hang on." Her husband stilled, audibly, two feet from the table. Annie's throat cramped around Smoke's dick as she swallowed a gooey choking gurgle.

"Marlene? No, I'm back. Where did that woman go? Annie?"

Annie's heart raced in her chest. Even if she wanted to, she couldn't answer. Not with Elijah's ten inches slamming the back of her throat, her nose brushing his pubic hair.

Smoke cleared his throat, placing his forearms on the table. "She went to the garage. I think she was a bit uneasy to stay alone here with me. You got yourself a pretty shy wife Jo!"

Joseph grunted, hung the phone, smiling, then scrape his seat aside. The chair's leg hit Annie's ankle and she grimaced of pain. A bead of sweat slipped between her heavy breasts, tracking down the soft swell of her belly, disappearing into the waistband of her skirt.

"Listen. That's how it is when you know how to keep your woman in check!"

In check huh? Elijah smirked in response, mockingly. "She is very good...yeah very good." He groaned hoarsely, almost snitching on himself, as Annie's tongue sprawled against the ridge of his cockhead. She mapped the contours languidly, while freeing her lush tits from the shirt, her blooming sensitive nipples chafing against the cold tiles — milking and enormous.

"Anyway." Joseph continued, oblivious, "Marlene's been riding me all week about these accounts. I can't even dine."

Elijah chuckled raspily. "she's the boss."

Annie cupped her breasts together and squeezed them, rubbing around Elijah's soggy dick while her mouth accelerated its strokes. Joseph had never made her feel like this.

But Elijah? Jesus, she was losing her damn mind.

Still jerking him with her tits, she tilted her head, changing the angle, eating him slow this time, spasming around his length.

"I'm sorry bout how my wife behaved. That's not how you receive a damn guess," Joseph cursed."Hiding in garage like she's ten."

Smoke laughed, strangled. "Don't worry about it. I have been amazingly welcomed."

Annie's throat rippled around Elijah. Yes, she was quite a good hostess.

"Mm." Joseph's slipper tapped the floor. "if you say so. Anyway, I should probably pay Marlene a visit tonight."

Elijah's cock twitched against Annie's tongue while she drew lazy circles around the ridge of his glans, dipping into the slit.

"What? Right now?" Elijah asked with too much delight in his tone.

"Yes. I got my way to persuade her to give me a longer delay," Joseph replied, smirking.

"I see."

"Anyway. Don't mind my wife. When you are ready to go, just call her over to lock the door. She'll know I'm getting back late."

Well of course I do, Annie reacted internally, her inner walls clamping down on nothing you're barely present, you don't even—

She took Elijah harder. Her pussy was drooling — totally thrilled by the idea of being alone with him — sticky trails sliding down both thighs, matting the coils' patch between her legs. The scent of her own arousal rose in the cramped space — musky and salt-sweet, mingling with the clean linen smell of the tablecloth.

Annie never thought she had such a kinky side, but Elijah had somehow managed to bring out her wilder side.

A few minutes later, she heard the door close, and then Elijah roughly yanked the lollipop out of her mouth. He stood up, swinging his huge cock jerkily, shooting his creamy load all over the floor. Then he shoved the table a few millimeters, revealing Annie on all fours beneath it, her large breasts bouncing, milk trickling down, and her tongue coated in cum.

"Come here, my pretty princess, you want daddy's big cock, ain't you?" He rocked his hips, waving his erected penis from left to right and up and down, his balls still tightly filled.

He crouched down to her level, then whipped her face a few times with his dick before picking her up effortlessly.

"Elijah... he's still here...the car hasn't driven off yet—"

"Let's give him a little show then, gorgeous."

He turned around, still holding Annie in his arms. "You bad girl, you didn't wear any panties, did you?" he teased her before almost tearing her skirt off.

He stood up, facing the large window overlooking the parking lot across the street, spread Annie's thick thighs apart, and then rubbed his head against her clitoris.

"Damn. Look at that juicy pussy. I could fuck you for hours, mama..." he whispered in the crook of her neck as she got hotter and wetter, watching Elijah’s cock tapping against her hood.

"I'm going to show him how a woman as beautiful as you deserves to be treated, Ma'... "

Annie cried loudly, her cunt dripping with pleasure. "Please, Elijah... fuck me!" she parted her legs even farther, stretching her hole wider.

Elijah obeyed and sank her onto his cock in a single thrust. 

Her back slammed against his sturdy chest while the window seemed to shudder. 

"Shit— Annie—" His voice cracked, raw and surprised. "You're strangling my dick, mama."

His fullness stole her breath. Her inner walls stretched, struggled, then surrendered, molding around every inch clenching her pussy. From this side, impaled and suspended, she could feel him roughly in her stomach with an insistent pressure that made her eyes roll back.

In front of them, the parking lot lights glared yellow. Joseph's car was idling.

"Look at him," Elijah grunted, hitching her higher against him. His hands spanned her ass cheeks, fingers sinking into the generous, plush flesh, spreading her wider. "Right there, probably on the phone with his side chick. You better not feel bad for that son of bitch. You hear me?"

Annie couldn't answer, too overwhelmed. Her breasts spilled free, bounced, fighting the air with each subtle shift of Elijah's hips.

"Please—" she breathed, ragged. "Stop talking. Do me harder Please."

He did.

Withdrawing slowly, torturous, letting her feel every stroke, the broad flare of his cockhead catching on her rim before he slammed home again.

"Like that?" He groaned, nibbling her ear, teeth grazing her along her neck. "Tell me how you want it, pretty baby. Use your words."

"Deeper— oh fuck — Elijah, just like this—"

He braced his feet wider on the floor, adjusted his grip on her thighs, and pounded into her more possessively.

Through it all, the window watched them. She couldn't see Joseph's face. Couldn't tell if he was looking up. The ignorance coiled hot and tight in her belly, pushing her closer to the edge with terrifying speed.

"You like that, don't you?" Elijah whispered. "Knowing he might see. That he's not the only one who can freely play around."

Annie cried. "Yes—yes, that's all he deserved."

"Say it Annie. Tell me that pussy is mine."

Her guilt and whatever remained of her loyalty to her husband crumbled in this instant.

"That pussy is yours Lijah." she gasped. “I’m yours.”

"And so I am, baby." He turned her around, their faces close and nudged her nose against his, capturing her lips in a passionate kiss.

What had started sneakily softened into something Annie had no name for. His lips moved against hers, so tenderly it made her forget the window and its possible voyeurs. Her fingers uncurled from his shirt and slid up, trembling, to cradle his jaw.

"Lijah—"

He pulled back just enough to look at her. His pupils were blown wide and his breathing challenged hers — ragged, uneven, like they'd both been running.

"What, sweet baby?" His thumb traced her cheekbone.

Annie's mouth opened. Closed.

How could she explain the ache spreading through her chest? She'd been so deprived, so angry — at Joseph, at herself, at years of invisible labor and cold sheets — and here Elijah came into the picture, lighting the flame.

"Nothing. Don't stop kissing me please."

He smiled, and this time, his lips brushed hers featherlight.

"Shit," he breathed against her mouth.

"Mm?"

"The way you feel." Elijah's forehead dropped to hers."Got me wanting things I shouldn't."

Annie's nails traced down the nape of his neck, over his shoulder bone. "Like what?"

"Like—" He stopped his back and forth, holding himself inside her, motionless, while his gaze searched her face. "Like putting a baby in you."

Annie hiccuped, flustered. "Wha-what are you saying?"

"I know," he tried to cool down, his voice strained. "I know you are married and you got a baby already. I shouldn't be saying this. But.." He inhaled. "That man don't appreciate the blessing he got. You deserve someone who value and respects you, Annie. Someone who'd stay."

Annie's heart hammered against her ribs.

She should have been terrified. Should have come right back to her senses and shoved him away, remembering that she was a married woman, a mother, that he was her husband's best friend. But her body didn't listen, arching into Elijah's slow, measured thrusts, their rhythm coaxing rather than punishing.

"Look at me," he whispered.

"Would you want that? If things were different. If you weren't—" He chewed his jaw.

"If I weren't married," Annie continued melancholic. "If I weren't home every night waiting for someone who was out with another woman. If things were different, Elijah—"

She broke off, tears blurring her vision.

"Hey," he murmured softly. "Pretty mama, I got you."

His dick jerked languidly in her pussy, warming her, while his mouth brushed to the corner of her eye, then her temple and the bridge of her nose —reassuring her with each kiss.

Annie's hands gripped his shirt again. "I want—" she sobbed. "I want to feel something real. Just once. Even if it's— even if it can't last."

"Can't last?" Elijah grinned smugly. "Oh, baby, there's not a thing I want and I can't have. And unfortunately for your husband, I want you. And not for single nights only."

He crushed her into his chest. His arms shut around Annie like he was afraid she'd disappear, and beneath her palms, his heart stomped frantically against her own.

She felt it the moment he edged climax — his cock swelled impossibly fuller inside her, flooding, coating her walls in waves. She buried her face in his neck, panting hard.

Smoke pressed his lips against her coils, living the moment. And, in the quiet of the dining room, with their mingled sweat cooling on her skin and his seed glazing her secret place, Annie realized she'd never felt more alive. Or more damned.

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