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I’m old school I only like women

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Second Chance | Lila Ike x Reader

Summary: Fate has a twisted sense of humor, putting you face-to-face with your ex, Lila, in a random encounter. The unexpected confrontation dredges up old memories, unresolved feelings, and the possibility of a second chance.

Rating: PG-13

Genre: Romance, Angst

Word Count: 5247

A/N: I know this is a long one, but I have worked very hard on it during all of my free time- whether at work or home. I'm sorry for the inconsistent updates. I've been super busy with work and falling into new routines in my new city. I think I'm getting into the groove of things, though, so expect maybe 1–2 updates a week. Also, I did not use my tag list for this story, as I was unsure if my few usual readers would be interested in another fandom. If y'all make it to the end, be sure to tell me if you'd like to be tagged in any other Lila fics- as well as your thoughts of the story in general. Enjoy <3

Of course, fate would put you in the last open lane at Walmart with your ex on the other side of the world at 3 AM on a Tuesday. It was just like Lila to be out in the middle of the night, shopping for what looked like several 3-lb tubs of play-doh, a frozen cheese pizza, and press-on nails. And it was just like Lila to realize she left her wallet at home after frantically patting the nonexistent pockets of her lilac-colored silk pajama set. 

“Raatid…” she muttered, running her fingers through her messy auburn fro before loudly kissing her teeth. “Now what mi fi do…”

The moment the words penetrated the air, you froze, every fiber of your being suddenly on high alert. That smoky voice—familiar, unmistakable—sent a jolt through you, stirring emotions you'd buried long ago. It couldn’t be, you thought, your mind reeling in disbelief. But the sultry rasp, the tone, the slight lilt in her accent—there was no misconstruing it. Your breath caught in your throat as you slowly lifted your gaze, dread pooling in your stomach. And there she was, as real as the desolate day you last saw her, confirming what you already knew deep down. It was Lila.

Your heart sank as you took everything in- her lively appearance starkly contrasting with the mundane backdrop of the store. The sight of her was stupefying. A surge of nostalgia, annoyance, and an unwelcome flutter of affection twisted in your chest. You couldn’t help but notice the little things you once adored—the way she muttered under her breath, the casual confidence in her disordered state. Panic gnawed at you as you debated your next move. Should you confront her, or flee before she notices you? The aisle felt both a prison and a haven as you weighed the consequences of either action. Every second stretched, amplifying the dread of inevitable interaction, until the decision was made for you.

Of course fate would have you loudly drop a can of chip dip, ruining any chance of a stealthy escape. As you fumbled to catch it, the rest of your precariously balanced items slipped from your grasp, tumbling to the floor in a chaotic clatter. The clamor echoed through the aisle, drawing unwanted attention. You hurriedly crouched down, desperate to gather everything without too much noise, but your movements were clumsy, rushed. The dip container rolled away, followed by a cascade of soda cans, and as you reached for them, your foot slipped on something slick. The world tilted, and before you knew it, you were sprawled flat on your back, staring up at the bright lights. The cold, hard tiles beneath you sent a sharp ache through your spine, and for a moment, you lay there, stunned and mortified, surrounded by the scattered remnants of your failed escape.

If you hadn’t caught her attention before, you most certainly had now. The sharp odor of old mop water mixed with the sticky sweetness of spilled soda assaulted your senses as the blinding fluorescent lights bore down on you. Dazed and disoriented, you briefly wondered if you had hit your head hard enough to be imagining the figure standing over you. But as your vision cleared and you focused on the familiar silhouette, there was no mistaking it—this was no hallucination. It was definitely Lila.

From your vantage point on the ground, the first thing you noticed were the familiar slivers of warm, tawny skin peeking through the gaps of her shirt buttons. The sight dredged up memories, each one sharper and more stirring than the last. You recalled how Lila’s preference for revealing clothing used to irritate you, igniting silent arguments in your mind—arguments that now seemed trivial in the shadow of your separation. Yet, even now, a pang of jealousy twisted in your chest, surprising you with its intensity. Why should you care? You told yourself it was irrational, yet the emotion was there, raw and undeniable. 

Slowly, you pushed yourself off the grimy floor, the weight of the moment pressing down on you as you tried to shake off whatever mire clung to your clothes. With a forced calmness, you bent down to gather your scattered belongings, hoping your expression betrayed none of the turmoil inside. As you straightened, you avoided her gaze, muttering a curt, “Excuse me,” trying to convey a casual indifference that you didn’t feel. But as your eyes flickered briefly to hers, standing just inches away, the proximity stirred something deep within—a mix of regret, longing, and a tinge of resentment, all tangled together in a knot you couldn't untie.

“That wuh yuh say?” she remarked loudly, her eyes gleaming with a familiar, almost playful mischief that sent a chill down your spine. It was the same look she used to give you whenever she was about to do something unpredictable, something that always left you feeling off-balance. Your heart skipped a beat, anxiety tightening in your chest as your eyes darted between Lila, the cashier, and the exit, hoping for a way out. But before you could even process the situation, she waved a hand dismissively toward the cashier. “Ring alla this together,” she instructed with a tone that brooked no argument. It was just like Lila to have you bear the expense of a middle of the night art project after years of no contact.

A resigned sigh escaped your lips as you forced yourself to move, your shoulders tensing with each item you placed on the conveyor belt. The items felt heavier in your hands, burdened by the weight of this unwanted reunion. As the cashier began scanning them, a silence settled over you like a thick fog. The monotonous beeping of the register, the rough sound of your wallet’s zipper, and the rustling of plastic bags filled the void, each amplifying your discomfort. The cashier’s bored small talk was nothing more than background noise, barely registering as you tried to focus on anything but the tension coiling tighter inside you.

With your purchases bagged, you grabbed them hastily, eager to escape this surreal encounter. You wanted to mutter a quick goodnight, make a clean break, and retreat to the safety of your car, but Lila had other plans. She stepped directly into your path, her arms crossed in a stance that was both casual and resolute. A look of mild annoyance flickered across her face, as if she could sense your desire to flee and wasn’t about to let you off so easily. Her presence loomed, blocking your way, forcing you to confront the reality of her standing there, just inches away, after all this time.

“Excuse me? That wuh yuh say?” she repeated. You could only stare blankly into the warm pool of her chocolate colored eyes. 

“Better than asking who let your crazy ass into the country?” you retorted, trying to keep your voice steady. But your calm was shattered by the raucous laughter that erupted from her. She doubled over, shoulders shaking like you’d just delivered the punchline of the year. Crazy indeed, you thought, a bitter edge creeping into your mind, irritated by the way your heart softened at the sight of her laughing—laughing at something you said. You always used to cave under the weight of her laughter, her smiles, her gaze. That’s why you moved back here—to escape her, to escape the hold she had over you. But now, seeing her here, of all places, in your hometown thousands of miles away from where you met, you couldn’t help but wonder why the hell she was standing in front of you again.

Her sudden grip on your arm jolted you back to reality. Her hands, as soft as once before, clung to your forearm as she tried to steady herself, laughter fading into ragged breaths. The pressure of her fingertips against your skin was almost unbearable, sending a rush of heat through your body that left you momentarily breathless. And then, there it was—that sweet, familiar scent of her perfume, the one that still lingered in the fibers of your hoodies no matter how many times you washed them. The smell brought a wave of memories crashing down, each one tinged with the bittersweetness of what once was and what could never be again.

You found yourself staring blankly into the forest of her coily chestnut hair, its wildness hinting at the composed chaos she always seemed to embody. Her head tilted upward, revealing an impish grin that stretched across her round, freckled face. Without loosening her grip on your arm, she asked, “You want mi fi show yuh crazy?” The playful challenge in her voice sent a shiver down your spine. Despite yourself, you felt your resolve beginning to melt under the weight of her stare. You had always found her gaze so disarming, a piercing look that left you exposed and vulnerable. Three years of distance had allowed you to rationalize this effect, convincing yourself it was nothing more than a manipulation tactic. But as her eyes bore into yours, and she tilted her head to the side for an obvious once-over of your outfit, you couldn’t help but feel that familiar pull, as if she knew exactly how to unravel you with just a glance.

“Wah, and yuh know dis de mi favorite color,” she remarked, her manicured fingers sliding up to tug playfully at the sleeves of your t-shirt. The combination of her familiar perfume, the way she looked at you, and the heat of her touch started to blur your senses. Your breath caught in your throat, and a burning sensation tightened in your chest. Six years of chaotic memories flashed before your eyes, each one more overwhelming than the last. The discomfort that had been simmering in the pit of your stomach began to ignite, flickering into anger as you fought to keep your emotions in check.

“Thanks, my girlfriend picked this out for me,” you blurted out, not entirely sure where those words came from. Though untrue, they served their purpose. The sweet look on Lila’s face twisted into something darker, her eyebrows knitting together as she withdrew her hands, crossing her arms defensively. If you were as gullible as you were three years ago, you might have mistaken the expression on her face for genuine pain and given in to the urge to comfort her. The conflicting voices in your head clamored for attention, urging you to fold under the pressure. But instead, you stood firm. “Speaking of which, I should get back home,” you added, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside. You waved your bag, a small but pointed reminder that this 3 AM store run was meant to be quick and solitary—not an invitation to commiserate with ex-girlfriends. 

Lila stepped aside, her head turning away as her voice took on a hardened edge. “Should I care? Why yuh a tell mi this? Galang bout yuh business man,” she snapped, waving her hand dismissively. You caught one last glimpse of the redness blooming on her cheek before attempting to move past her toward the exit. But she remained rooted in place, still blocking your path. A sharp cough from the cashier broke the tense moment, and Lila hesitated before finally shuffling a few steps away.

“Sorry. Mi meant fi say thank you… and yuh look good. Goodnight,” she added, her voice quieter now, almost reluctant. She grabbed her heavy bags from the carousel with a quick, jerky motion and made a beeline for the exit, leaving behind only the lingering trace of her sweet perfume, a scent that clung to the air long after she’d gone.

You watched her figure retreat, making sure she had enough time to drive off to wherever the hell she came from before you stepped outside. The cashier, now disinterested, tapped away at her phone as you lingered, feigning interest in the caged balls and coin machine against the wall.

“Need help with anything?” the cashier's voice broke the silence, pulling you back to reality. Taking it as your cue to leave, you made your way to the parking lot. By now, it was nearly four in the morning, and the sky had shifted from deep black to a warm violet hue. The emptiness of the parking lot was almost comforting, and you found yourself contentedly trying to chalk up the night’s encounter to an insomnia-induced hallucination.

But as you pulled up to the exit, your stomach sank. A car was idling in front of you, its lights off, blocking the narrow lane. You considered reversing and trying another exit until you noticed another car inching up behind you, trapping you in place. Just as you were about to roll down the window to signal the driver behind you to back up, the door of the parked car swung open with a loud, jarring creak, shattering the bleak quiet of dawn.

Lila’s upper body leaned out of the car door as she shouted, “Guh roun deh.” Her arms waved frantically, trying to signal you to move around, but the effort was clumsy and ineffective. In her haste, she lost her balance and began slipping out of the car, tumbling awkwardly onto her side. The other car quickly backed up and sped off to the opposite end of the parking lot, leaving you alone, staring at her sprawled on the asphalt. A wave of pity washed over you as you took in the sight—Lila lying limp on the ground, half of her legs still tangled in the car, looking as helpless as ever.

Against what might have been better judgment, you stepped out of your car and walked toward Lila’s crumpled form on the cold asphalt. Just minutes ago, she had stood over you on the Walmart floor, and now, fate had turned the tables—you were the one towering over her in the dimly lit parking lot. As your shadow stretched across her, Lila’s round face tilted up, revealing the steady stream of tears tracing a path down her freckled cheeks, flushed red from the cold. Her blouse had ridden up in her fall, exposing the soft caramel skin of her stomach. Those big brown eyes locked onto yours with a mix of pain and something else—an unspoken plea, perhaps.

For a moment, you hesitated. The Lila you knew was headstrong, incapable of asking for help while always needing it all the same. But here she was, vulnerable and small, and the sight tugged at something deep inside you. A part of you wanted to walk away, to leave this mess behind like you had three years ago. But those eyes… they always had a way of pulling you back in.

You knelt beside her, reaching out to grab her shoulders. Her skin was softer than you remembered, her shoulders narrower, as if the years had chipped away at her. As you helped her to her feet, Lila’s legs straightened slowly, her movements sluggish. You guided her back against the car, your hands lingering longer than they should have on her, noting the warmth beneath your fingers.

The tears had carved a shimmering trail from her cheeks to her neck, disappearing into the dip of her cleavage. Your eyes drifted, unable to settle, each glance at her reminding you of everything you had tried to leave behind. The smell of her perfume—familiar, intoxicating—wrapped around you like a ghost from the past.

But even as you felt yourself being drawn in, a sliver of anger sparked in your chest. The six years of chaos, the mayhem she brought into your life, all flickered back to life in your mind. You knew this was dangerous, that letting her back in would unravel everything you had worked so hard to put back together.

"Are you okay?" you asked, your voice more strained than you intended, as you finally met her gaze again.

Lila didn’t respond immediately. Her breathing was ragged, her chest rising and falling with each labored breath. Then, almost as if realizing where she was, she pulled herself together, a shaky smile breaking through her tears.

“Yeah,” she whispered, but you could see the lie in her eyes.

The night was silent around you, the empty parking lot a stark contrast to the turmoil swirling inside you. The cold air nipped at your skin, grounding you as you realized just how close you were to falling back into old patterns. The thought made you tighten your grip on her shoulders for a brief second before you forced yourself to let go, stepping back to create distance.

“Let’s figure this out,” you murmured, trying to steady your voice, even as the gravity of the moment pulled you deeper into a place you weren’t sure you could escape.

Lila’s eyes darted away from yours, her expression darkening with a mix of hurt and anger. “So now yuh ago laugh off me?” she snapped, her voice trembling as she imagined the worst. “First yuh pay fi mi inna di store, now yuh a pree mi car a bruk up- mi cyaan badda with this no more. Go. Go,” she ranted, her hands pushing weakly at your arms, trying to create distance, but you stood your ground, unmoved.

“Crazy girl…” you whispered, your voice low and tender as you leaned in closer, closing the gap between you. The scent of her perfume mixed with the cold night air, intoxicating and familiar, drawing you in despite yourself. Her breath hitched as your eyes locked, the space between you charged with a tension that had always simmered beneath the surface.

You reached up, your hand trembling slightly as you cupped her tear-streaked cheek, your thumb brushing away the wetness. Her skin was warm against your palm, soft and yielding as she instinctively leaned into your touch, her defenses crumbling. “You know I was lying,” you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper, the words slipping out like a secret. “Who would I be with when you’re right here?”

For a moment, she just stared at you, her eyes wide and vulnerable, as if searching your face for any sign of deceit. But there was none, just the raw, undeniable truth that had been buried for years. Her lips parted, a shaky breath escaping as she tilted her head ever so slightly, her gaze flicking down to your mouth, then back to your eyes.

The world around you faded away as you leaned in, your heart pounding in your chest. Her hands, once pushing you away, now found their way to the back of your neck, pulling you closer until your lips brushed against hers. The kiss was hesitant at first, a tentative exploration of familiar territory, but it quickly deepened, the years of distance and longing collapsing into this one moment.

Her body melted into yours, her arms tightening around you as if afraid you might disappear. The taste of her tears mingled with the softness of her lips, the saltiness grounding you in the reality of the moment. Your hands slid from her cheek to the back of her head, fingers tangling in her coily hair, drawing her even closer as the kiss grew more urgent, more desperate.

When you finally pulled back, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting against each other as you tried to steady yourselves. Her eyes fluttered open, still glistening with unshed tears, but there was something else there now—something softer, something that felt like hope.

You took a step back, wanting to give her space but not ready to let her go. The strain hung heavy in the air, and the chill from the asphalt seeped into your bones. “Okay, let’s get you comfortable,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper as you guided her toward your own car.

As you opened the passenger door, you could see her shoulders tense slightly, a flicker of uncertainty crossing her freckled face. You gently helped her settle into the seat, your hands brushing against her arms, lingering just a moment longer than necessary. You adjusted the heat, the warm air began to swirl around her, coaxing a hint of relaxation back into her expression.

“Just breathe, alright? I’ll figure this out,” you murmured, leaning in slightly to meet her gaze. Her big brown eyes, usually so vibrant, looked glassy with lingering tears, but as you spoke, the tension around her brows began to soften. A small nod accompanied a tentative smile, barely there but enough to spark a flicker of hope in your chest.

You placed a hand on her knee, offering a reassuring squeeze, feeling the warmth of her body beneath your palm. She let out a shaky breath, her lips parting slightly as if to say something but then closing again, a mixture of vulnerability and uncertainty etched across her face. You could see her fighting to compose herself, but the weight of the unspoken clung to her.

Once Lila was settled, you closed the door gently and walked around to her car, heart pounding as you slid into the driver’s seat. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the task ahead. Turning the key in the ignition, you listened for any sign of life, but all you got was a stubborn silence that confirmed your worries.

You glanced around the interior, looking for anything of substance. The scent of Lila’s perfume lingered in the air, a bittersweet reminder of the connection you still felt. With a sigh, you turned your attention to the glove compartment, yanking it open to rummage through the jumble of papers. Your fingers brushed against a few receipts and a stack of documents. As you sifted through, a piece of paper caught your eye: a registration form dated just a few weeks ago.

Curiosity piqued, you unfolded the document and scanned the details. Lila had just gotten this car, and the thought sent a pang of concern through you. How long had she been in the country? And why this city of all places?

Your heart raced as the implications settled in. This was a place you knew well—filled with hidden dangers and unfamiliar faces. The very idea of Lila navigating it alone, without a support system, made you feel uneasy.

You picked up your phone and dialed AAA, your mind racing with thoughts of what could have happened to her. As the line rang, you couldn’t shake the feeling of frustration coursing through you. It was reckless for her to come without telling, without making sure she had someone to lean on. And now, here she was, stranded in a parking lot at night, vulnerable to whatever dangers lurked in the shadows.

What if something had happened to her? The thought made your blood run cold. You couldn’t help but imagine her facing trouble alone. Your grip tightened on the steering wheel as the call finally connected, the voice on the other end breaking you from your thoughts.

“AAA, how can I assist you today?” the operator asked, and you began to explain the situation, your gaze flickering back to Lila, who was curled up in the passenger seat, trying to find comfort amid the chaos. You wanted to protect her, to shield her from the world that had been so unkind. But you also knew that she always made her own choices, even if those choices scared you.

After finishing your call, you returned to your own car settling into the driver’s seat, the warm leather a stark contrast to the cool weather. Silence wrapped around you both, heavy and thick, as if the car itself held its breath. 

As if on cue, you both spoke at the same time.

“Why did you—”

“Where have you—”

You stopped, your eyes darting to Lila’s. She bit her lip to stifle a laugh, and soon, you found yourself laughing too. It was the kind of laughter that felt like a lifeline thrown into the depths of an awkward ocean, a shared moment that lightened the tension hanging in the air.

“Okay, you go first,” you said, raising your hands in surrender.

Lila took a deep breath, her eyes searching yours. “Why lie about having a girlfriend?”

The question hung there, both simple and loaded. You hesitated, guilt bubbling up, and finally admitted, “I was scared. I thought if I said I had someone, it would put some distance between us. I didn’t want you to show up in front of me as if nothing had happened.” The words tumbled out, and for a moment, you felt foolish, childishly trying to shield yourself from the past.

Lila tilted her head, processing your confession. “Aight den. Fi yuh time now.”

Your heart raced as you gathered your courage. “What are you doing all alone in my city?”

The response came slowly, almost hesitantly. “I… I miss you. I miss home. Mi did waan come back home- fi come back to yuh.” Her words hung between you like a delicate thread, weaving together the fragile remnants of what you once shared.

You could feel the sincerity in her voice, and it washed over you, warm and bittersweet, pulling you back to a time when everything felt easier. The weight of her admission settled in, and you were left grappling with the truth of her longing and the complexities of your own heart.

You felt a whirlwind of emotions surging within you—nostalgia, longing, and an aching vulnerability. Memories of laughter shared, dreams whispered in the dark, and the warmth of her embrace flooded your mind, pulling at your heartstrings. The distance between you and Lila felt both immense and insubstantial, like an ocean separating two islands that had once been one. You yearned for the connection you had lost, the easy rhythm of companionship that had felt so right. But doubt flickered in the corners of your mind, mixing with the hope that maybe, just maybe, there was still a chance to navigate the waters of this complicated past.

As you both sat in the car, the chill of the early morning seeped through the windows, the world outside quiet and still, as if it was holding its breath. The only sound was the soft hum of the car's engine, a low vibration that pulsed through the seats. You could feel it in your bones, a reminder of the tension that hung in the air, unresolved and heavy.

Lila shifted beside you, her movements drawing your attention away from the growing unease. You turned to her, your eyes meeting hers in the dim light. There was something in her gaze, a softness, a vulnerability that you hadn't seen before. It made your heart ache with a familiar longing, a desire to reach out and close the distance between you.

She broke the silence first, her voice barely more than a whisper, but it cut through the tension like a knife. "Can we fall in love like we did before?" Her words lingered in the air, wrapping around you, tugging at the strings of your heart. You felt a lump form in your throat, your emotions warring within you, a mix of fear and hope.

You wanted to answer her, to tell her that yes, you could, that you wanted nothing more than to lose yourself in her again, to feel the warmth of her love. But the words stuck in your throat, trapped by the memories of the past, the pain and heartache that had driven you apart. You glanced away, your eyes focusing on the windshield, the condensation forming intricate patterns that blurred the outside world.

Then, with a sudden, determined movement, Lila reached across the space between you, her hands enveloping yours. The warmth of her touch sent a jolt through you, grounding you in the moment. Her eyes locked onto yours, deep, earnest, and pleading. 

"Can I show you how much I adore you?" she asked, her voice trembling with emotion. You could feel the weight of her words, the sincerity behind them. It wasn't just a question; it was a plea, a desperate hope for a second chance, for the possibility of rewriting the story that had once ended in heartbreak.

The memories of your shared past flooded your mind—the late-night conversations, the stolen glances, the feeling of her arms around you, the laughter that echoed through the halls of your old apartment. But with those memories came the arguments, the misunderstandings, the walls you had both built around your hearts. It had been easier to walk away, to let the distance grow, than to face the pain of trying again.

But now, sitting in the car with her, the darkness of the parking lot outside contrasting with the warmth of her hand in yours, you realized that maybe it wasn’t too late. Maybe the love that had once been there, the love that had been buried under the rubble of your broken relationship, could be unearthed, rekindled.

You looked back at her, really looked at her, and saw the hope in her eyes, the way her lips trembled as she waited for your response. And in that moment, you made a choice. You squeezed her hand, a silent promise, and leaned closer, your heart pounding in your chest.

"I don’t know if I want the same love as before," you admitted, your voice shaky but honest. "But maybe we can fall in love for the first time again. Maybe we can learn from our mistakes, and start all over."

Her eyes filled with tears, and she nodded, her lips curving into a small, hopeful smile. "Babe," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "Come make we go fall in love."

You leaned in, closing the distance between you. The warmth of her breath mingled with yours, filling the small space of the car with a mix of tension and tenderness. Time seemed to stand still as the world outside faded away, leaving just the two of you, suspended in this moment.

As your lips brushed against hers, you felt the familiar spark ignite, igniting a fire that had been smoldering beneath the surface for far too long. The kiss was hesitant at first, a gentle exploration of what had been lost and what could be found again. But as you surrendered to the connection, it deepened, unraveling the years of hurt and hesitation that had built up between you.

Her lips were soft and inviting, a reminder of all the reasons you had fallen in love before. The kiss spoke volumes—of promises unspoken and dreams rekindled. You felt her fingers weave into your hair, pulling you closer as if to erase the distance of time and regret. The rhythm of your heart synchronized, creating a melody that only you two could hear.

In that confined space, the worries of the world slipped away, leaving just the two of you lost in each other. The kiss was not just a reconnection; it was a quiet declaration of hope, an unspoken vow to navigate the road ahead together. The taste of her was sweet, like the memories you cherished and the possibility of a future yet to unfold.

As you finally pulled back, breathless and wide-eyed, you lingered in that space between closeness and distance, both of you aware that this moment marked the beginning of something new. With a shared glance that held a universe of meaning, you realized this was your second chance.

GORGEOUS💍😘 ♠️⚘️⚘️⚘️⚘️

I’m old school I only like women

I’m old school I only like women

AUTHOR'S NOTE: got inspired to write about Raq’s pretty self after i seen this edit. 😉

MY MASTERLIST. -> click here for more!

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YOU'RE MINES STILL. (GxG)

PATINA MILLER AS “RAQUEL THOMAS” FROM RAISING KANAN x BLACK!FEM!OC

SUMMARY: in which Simone & Raquel were toxic to each other and ended on bad terms because of this, but when Raq hears about her having someone else, she decides to pay Simone a visit. ✨ | partially inspired by this tiktok 🤣

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𝗦𝗜𝗠𝗢𝗡𝗘 stood in the dressing room of "Chocolate City" — the strip club she worked at — as she adjusted her outfit, taking her time to analyze her appearance while she fiddled with her skirt.

it wasn't time for her to go on stage yet, but she still wanted to look her best for the time being.

the woman flipped her ass-length black box braids out of her face as the door to the dressing room opened, revealing one of her coworkers and friends Destiny — who was known as "Rubi" on stage due to her signature red color that was displayed in her outfits.

"you know you not due on stage for anotha' 30 minutes, right?" Destiny asked, raising a brow, as Simone nodded her head and let out a soft chuckle.

"Divine always gotta' stay ready, boo. you know that." Simone smirked, referencing her stage name, as she playfully smacked her own ass and Destiny laughed at her before shaking her head.

"stayin' ready fa' Raquel, huh?" Destiny joked, smirking widely, as Simone smacked her lips and her posture stiffened, her face scrunching up at the sound of that woman's name while Destiny guffawed at the change in her demeanor.

to keep it brief: Raquel and Simone used to be a thing, and their fling was as toxic as ever. there would be lots of arguing, lots of breaking up, and lots of making up — until one day, the making up stopped and the two never reconciled again.

Simone had no problem with the business Raquel ran and honestly tried her best not to be involved in it, despite often being questioned by Detective Burke and other officers about her involvement with Raq. but once they stopped speaking, Simone deaded everything between them. she stopped speaking to her, stopped returning her calls, and just started avoiding her as much as she could whenever she was out, which included ignoring her brothers, but she still spoke to her son and her niece whenever she saw them.

Simone could no longer stay in that toxic environment anymore, and with the police constantly spying on her and trying to "catch" her doing something illegal, that just made it worse. so she did what she thought was best and left the environment for good.

but knowing Raq, Simone knew there was only a matter of time before she tried to weasel her way back into her life, and she'd be gullible enough to fall for it.

"i ain't mean to kill ya high, girl, c'mon! come get a drink wit' me!" Destiny giggled as she grabbed Simone's hand and led her to the door while Simone secretly mugged the girl behind her back.

"yeah, you owe me one after bringin' that shit up."

—

"...then that bitch had the nerve to push me, girl, i was 'bout to bash her muh'fuckin' head in, she clearly ain't know who she was fuckin' wit'!" Destiny scoffed, recounting an interaction with one of their coworkers that happened when Simone was off, as she shook her head and Simone chuckled while taking a sip of her drink.

"i'm tellin' you, Des', bitches around here always fuck with bitches who they know can beat they ass just for a lil' bit of street cred'. they don't fool me wit' that shit, i'on play that fuck shit," Simone chuckled, pushing a few of her braids behind her shoulder, as "I'm Still Waiting" by Jodeci began to play in the club and Simone raised a brow, shaking her head before scoffing, "outta' all the songs, why the DJ play this shit? c'mon now, man."

"must be a sign, babygirl." Destiny winked, making Simone mug her, as Destiny laughed and Simone chugged her drink, slamming the glass down like a shot glass while she cleared her throat.

❝ IT'S BEEN SO LONG SINCE I TOUCHED A LADY, AND I'M STILL WAITING FOR YOU TO COME BACK TO ME, BABY. ❞

"i'm 'bout to get pissed off," Simone mumbled, making Destiny burst out laughing, as Simone turned to Eleanor — the bartender — and gently pushed her glass toward her, "refill, please, Ellie."

"before you get that refill, lemme' holla' at you real quick, Simone." a familiar voice called out as Destiny nearly caught whiplash turning around and her eyes locked on Raquel, making her laughter intensify while she nudged Simone with her elbow.

"Raq', i ain't got shit to say to you—"

"well, i got a lot to say to you. so, bring ya ass on." Raquel interrupted the woman as Simone raised a brow and looked back at her, looking her up and down before scoffing.

"i'll be back, y'all." Simone mumbled, making Destiny smirk, as Simone side-eyed Destiny and mugged her before hopping off the stool, adjusting her skirt on her ass before walking behind Raquel.

as soon as the two walked out of the door, Raquel grabbed Simone by the arm and pushed her up against her white truck, making Simone's eyebrows furrow while she looked between Raquel's firm grip and dark eyes.

"Raq', if you don't get—"

"stop callin' me that, Simone, you know i hate that shit," Raquel demanded, her voice as firm as her grip on Simone's arm, "the streets been talkin' lately. and they been tellin' me you fuckin' with somebody else. that true?"

"as if that's any of your business." Simone mumbled, rolling her eyes, as Raquel chuckled and let go of her arm, gripping her neck instead and resting her thumb on her chin to lift her head.

"it is my fuckin' business, the fuck you talkin' 'bout? you foreva' gon' be my girl, Simone, get that shit through yo' thick ass skull," Raquel growled, leaning in closer to the girl, as Simone folded her lips together and looked into the woman's eyes, seeing nothing but anger and slight lust, "but since you got muh'fuckin' amnesia all of a sudden, i'll happily remind you of who the fuck you belong to."

—

"R-Raquel!" Simone cried, her thighs beginning to burn while she rode the strap, as Raquel wrapped her hand around Simone's neck and yanked her head up before it could fall back.

"uh-uh. look at me, Simone,"  Raquel demanded, lightly slapping the girl's face, as Simone whimpered and her low eyes locked with Raquel's fiery ones, "you think you can just go around givin' my shit away? huh? you thought i wasn't gon' hear about that shit? you must take me for a dumb muh'fucka', don't you?"

to tell the truth, Simone did start talking to someone new not too long ago. did they have sex yet? unfortunately, yes — and i say "unfortunately" because they were ultimately not good enough in bed — definitely not as good as Raq — and didn't fully satisfy Simone's needs, which led her to regret opening up her legs in the first place.

did Simone know Raq would find out? of course, she did — solely because Raquel finds out everything.

"you belong to me. your body belongs to me. and you better believe that pussy belongs to me too, Simone. so, don't fuckin' play mind games wit' me and think i won't find out about the shit you do," Raquel growled as she began to thrust up into Simone from underneath her, "you think my guys still don't keep tabs on you? on where you been? on where you at? on who you been wit' and where y'all been? huh?"

"R-Raquel—"

"shut the fuck up when i'm talkin'," Raquel grumbled, roughly slapping her ass and leaving her handprint behind, as Simone bit down on her bottom lip to keep her eyes from rolling back, "matta' fact, tell me who you gave my pussy to since you wanna talk when i'm talkin'. use that pretty lil' mouth, Simone."

Simone went quiet, her teeth digging deeply into her bottom lip and almost drawing blood from it, as Raquel glared at her and began thrusting at a quicker and rougher rate, her eyes narrowing in slight irritation while she stared at the brown-skinned girl on her lap.

"i-it was a g-girl from th-the Bulletproof R-Records sh-showcase!" Simone yelped, feeling the tip of the strap roughly jab into her g-spot several times, as Raquel raised a brow at her and chuckled darkly, shaking her head while she tightened the grip on her neck.

"Lou's showcase? and you thought i wasn't gon' find out, Simone? i look fuckin' stupid to you or somethin'?" Raquel growled, furrowing her brows, as she harshly slapped the girl's other asscheek and left another handprint, "all my peoples was in that bitch that night and you thought nobody was gon' tell me 'bout the wack ass bitch tryna' make moves on my girl?"

"n-nooooooo!" Simone sobbed, stray tears beginning to roll down her rosy brown cheeks, as Raquel smirked sadistically watching the tears roll down her face, knowing she was starting to get to the girl, "i-i'm about to—"

"you're about to hold that shit, that's what you gon' do," Raquel chuckled bitterly as she abruptly stopped her thrusts and lightly tilted her head at her, "you out here fuckin' otha' bitches and think i'ma let you cum? you must really be fuckin' crazy, Simone."

"no, no, no — please! i'm sorry, Raquel, i won't give yo' pussy away no more, just don't leave me like this," Simone begged, looking at the woman with teary eyes, as Raquel looked at her with a blank stare, that same smirk still written on her face, "...please, baby?"

"that "baby" shit not 'bout to work on me right now, Simone. you want that nut? you betta' work for it," Raquel chuckled, raising a brow, as she caressed her hip with her fingertips, "betta' put these hips to good use, mama."

Simone gently bit down on her bottom lip as she gripped Raquel's shoulders, her acrylics crazing the woman's bra straps while she began to bounce at a steady pace. Raquel continued to grip Simone's neck as she held her head up, refusing to let her look away from her eyes — and to be honest, Simone was afraid to because Raquel was unpredictable. Simone bounced and rolled her hips on the strap as her eyebrows lightly furrowed and her eyes slightly fluttered, her lips sitting ajar while Raquel licked her lips at her.

"there you go, pretty mama. work for that nut like a good girl." Raquel praised, that same smirk still on her face, as she rubbed Simone's sore, red asscheeks and Simone whimpered at the contact, her walls contracting around the strap while her orgasm snuck up on her for a second time — and Raquel could sense that it pending because Simone started riding faster and rougher than before.

"you gon' cum, baby? hm? you gettin' your reward for ya work?" Raquel cooed as Simone rapidly nodded her head and her jaw sat open while involuntary moans and cries fell from her mouth, "promise me somethin' and i'll let you cum, Simone."

"a-anything!" Simone didn't realize the potential risk of the answer to Raquel's statement, and honestly, she didn't care. she couldn't focus on anything else but getting her orgasm, and if she had to promise something to Raquel, she'd do it, no questions asked.

Raquel chuckled tauntingly and her smirk widened as she leaned in closer to Simone and rested her forehead on hers, watching her struggle to hold eye contact with a smug look in her eyes.

"Don't give my shit to nobody else."