passionxwrites

[passionxwrites]

Could you do a one shot with mob boss Tyrone?

A/N: My sweet Anon, you asked for one and I present to you seven. Why am I like this?

Blackbird, Part 1: Lust

Pairing: Mob Boss!Fontaine x Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. Smut, fluff, angst, cursing, PIV, oral (female and male receiving), dirty talk, praise kink, all consensual. Use of n-word and non-inclusive language. Minor OC backstory.

Summary: You are a dancer trying to make it in a world not built for your body type. Fontaine is a gangster trying to rise through the ranks of a prominent gang. Will love truly conquer all?

Word Count: 10,810k

Interested in a Blackbird playlist? I'm not the greatest at curating songs but these remind me of these two. I may add or remove songs at my discretion.

A/N: Listen, I know. I couldn't get this idea out of my head and just kept writing. I'm trying something new here, so any feedback is welcome! Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! And please put ages in bios! Or get blockt!

Taglist: @planetblaque @dayjlovesromance @sevikasblackgf @melaninpov @amyhennessyhouse @henneseyhoe @justheretostan @black-fairy3 @superhoeva @jarfulloftears @hereformiles @montysstuffs @westside-rot @blackerthings @blowmymbackout @euphoric05 @miyuhpapayuh @nicolexnight @judymfmoody @notapradagurl7 @soft-persephone @justabovewater20 @soapjay @heyauntieeee @theyscreamsannii @eggnox @honeytoffee @thadelightfulone @tranquilfandomer @kindofaintrovert @l-auteuse @browngirldominion @sunkissedebony97 @lovedlover @issahyland @longpause-awkwardsmile @insburner @slippinninque @thecookiebratz @we-outsiiiide @babybratzmaraj @iv0rysoap @misskiki90 @harmshake @sageispunk @ciaqui @ms-angiealsina @satoruya @hopefulromantic1 @itsbackwoodsbby

You looked at your watch on your delicate wrist. Night chased the afternoon out of the sky, taking over in their delicate push and pull. Night was safer for confessions. For reflection. 

The sun’s rays slanted through the blinds and you blinked against the bitter light. “My apologies, would you like me to close them?” Your lawyer, Mr. Gates, asked you. 

“Please,” you said. You sighed and adjusted your neat teal dress across your knees. There was nothing to fix, but you supposed you were nervous. After all these years, you thought that you would carry these secrets to the grave. Everything was different now. 

Mr. Gates moved to the window and shut the blinds more fully, draping you in the safe comfort of his office. Mr. Gates had been part of the family for years now, a profession he took seriously. It was refreshing to speak to someone who couldn’t be bought. Who would never fold, not even under threat of death. 

The office had been cleared especially for you, per your request. People liked to gossip. Busybodies, your grandmother called them. The only sound was the low hum of the AC blowing cool air into the room and Mr. Gates shuffling around. 

He finally sat down at his desk, the chair creaking under his weight. He pulled out a small recorder and showed it to you, the exact model you requested. You dipped your chin in acknowledgement. He took out a notebook, new and clean of any writing. You hoped he had enough pens. 

“Are you sure you want to do this?” He asked.

You adjusted your dress once more, running your hands along the fine, silken material. You licked your lips and looked back up at him. “I don’t wanna die without marking the occasion first,” you said with a clipped smile. 

Each day it drew closer to the date, you got used to the idea of dying. You had a good run. It could have been better. But you weren’t one to be greedy. 

Mr. Gates smiled softly, perhaps a little sad. It was nice to know someone would miss you. There would be one person on this earth who’d care if you were gone. That was something. 

Mr. Gates wrote down something on his notepad and pressed a button on the recorder. He cleared his throat and introduced himself, the date, and the time. He asked you to state your name for the record. 

“...of sound mind and body do declare this to be read as my last will and testament.” 

“Goddammit!” You yelled. Your fists thumped against the rough wood of the door as it finished slamming into your face. The asshole on the other side was just as faceless as the long stream of dance companies that tossed you out on your ass. There were plenty more, sure, but this one had been reputable. Fair. 

They took one look at your raggedy dance clothes, worn from too many times around the washer. At your hair, styled high above your head in braids they didn’t understand but were obsessed with. You didn’t have the time or the money to go to a salon. Just once, you’d like someone else to bother with your thick hair and its maintenance. You couldn’t be bothered. 

You’d shave it all off but you didn’t want to deal with the mean and hurtful comments about you looking like a boy. Your knuckles were just getting over being bruised and tender from the last mu’fucka that tried to talk out the side of their neck. 

“Asshole!” You screamed. It was open auditions. Open. Auditions. That meant that anyone could come in and try their hand. You had killed the routine. You only needed to watch something once to get it down. To feel it move through your body like a live wire and your muscles respond. To mimic it to near perfection and add your spin on it. Nothing fancy, just an extra oomph that these companies seemed to lack. 

You had waited to the side with the other girls, all wispy, wafer thin girls who took one look at your curves and deemed you less than. A joke. That you couldn’t possibly move your body like they could.

One had the audacity to allude to that, calling it doing you a favor. Next thing you knew, your fist was flying and she was crying foul, blood running down her aristocratic nose. You just gave her a little more character, honest.

You cursed under your breath and moved away from the building. To hell with them. You shifted your dance bag over your shoulder and walked backwards. The marquee above the door announced an upcoming performance. Below it, there was the name of the headliner, Gabriella Greywood. 

One day, and one day soon, your name would be up there. In bright lights. And no amount of racist, fatphobic fucks were going to stop you. 

You turned and headed down the street, running head first into a person, solidly built by the feel of them. 

“My bad, sweetheart,” a deep, rumbling voice greeted you. 

Your mouth was already fixing to give him hell for not watching where he was going and that you were nobody’s “sweetheart”. The words dried on your tongue as you looked up into a deep set of brown eyes that crinkled a bit in the corner when he smiled. 

He had a low fade and short beard, shaved close to his strong jaw. Pretty, long eyelashes that fanned across his cheeks whenever he blinked. He smirked, checking you out while you ogled him. 

“S’okay,” you said, adjusting your bag on your shoulder. He took in your tights and oversized gray sweatshirt. 

“You heading inside?” He asked. 

“Away from it. Those fucks wouldn’t know talent if it bit them in the ass,” you said.

The man chuckled and nodded, like he liked your honesty. Your words. “Fuck ‘em,” he said, gifting you with another smirk. You wondered what he’d look like when he really smiled. When he let it take up his whole face. 

Too bad you didn’t have time for men. You may be behind most of your friends in that department. Their heads were full of getting married and popping out babies while they were still young. Like they were checking off boxes handed down to them through the generations. Grow up, learn just enough, get married, pop out babies, and then your real life starts once they are grown up with babies of their own. Fuuuck that.

“Where you headed then?” He asked. A noise to his left made you look up and see an entire other man standing next to him. He was a bit taller, broader around the shoulders, with a narrow face and a mischievous look in his eye.

“Home, I guess. Until I find the next studio giving out auditions,” you said. Your attention was solely fixated on the man in front of you. His friend grinned and moved away, lighting up a joint. He put a foot on top of a fire hydrant and pretended to ignore you both. 

“Let me give you a ride,” he said. You couldn’t stop staring at his face. He was magnetic. Like he commanded attention whether you wanted to give it or not. 

You giggled, stomach doing tiny flips. “I don’t know you,” you said, giving him a hint of the attitude you’re famous for. None of this, giggly, braid around your finger nonsense. 

“Get to know me. Let me take you to Scarlet Lounge,” he said. His voice was smooth. Too smooth. 

You crossed your arms and tilted your head. “That’s a gangster bar,” you said. 

“What you got against gangstas?” He asked.

“They’re mean, amoral, kill for no reason, run drugs, and turn out little girls. They’re nothing but bad news,” you said.

“Damn, amoral. That’s a big one,” he said. He chuckled and licked his lips, calling attention to his mouth once more. Your body heated instantly, wanting to know what they taste like. What they feel like on your skin. What his hands would feel like on your skin. 

“Not all gangstas are the same. Maybe some just wanna get over in a life hellbent on kicking them in the teeth,” he said. He put his hands in his pockets and you finally noticed what he was wearing. Simple jeans and a black hoodie, faded from too many washes like your clothes. You felt a sudden kinship with him, an understanding passed between you in being in similar situations. Just two mu’fuckas trying to make it.

“Are you saying you’re a gangsta?” You asked.

“If I say yes, you gon’ hold it against me?” Oh, he was dangerous. Absolutely dangerous. 

You had gone on entire tirades about the level of crime in LA. It was insidious. The dangerous, hopeless underbelly that all kids from the hood grew up with was like a giant dome that prevented anyone from truly getting out. Truly making something of yourself. You either joined a gang, married into a gang, or rode the struggle bus ‘till God called you home.  

You could leave. You could find some area where the people would treat you like a freak or like you didn’t belong but you would be safe. None of them would look like you. Or understand you. Change had to start in the hood. There had to be hope some-fucking-where.

“Probably,” you said. 

He smirked and shook his head. “Cold game. What’s your name, sweetheart?” He asked.

You should walk away. There was no way you could entertain someone like him. No way. Your feet felt rooted to the spot, unwilling to walk away from him or this moment. The more you looked at him, the more you felt connected to him. That each minute you spent in his presence, you felt tiny stitches being woven in between you.  

“I’ll tell you what gangsta boy. We bump into each other again and I’ll tell you my name,” you said. You turned on the balls of your feet, walking backwards away from him.

“You gon’ do me like that? Forreal?” He asked. The corner of his gorgeous mouth lifted higher. It was almost worth staying to see if you could get a real smile out of him. 

“Byeee,” you sang. You giggled, heading towards the train station. You turned around and gave your hips a little extra swish. 

“I’m Fontaine!” He called after you. It took all of your strength not to turn back around. You waved your fingers high in the air but kept walking. You didn’t really think you’d bump into him again. You couldn’t afford the distraction even if you did. You’d head back home to your shitty apartment that you shared with your best friend and regroup. 

You needed to keep your eyes on the prize. You had a future to secure. And it did not involve pretty corner boys who talked smooth.

You finished doing your makeup in the vanity, touching up the bright red lipstick one more time and checked over your outfit. Muted music and cheers reached you into the backroom, from the set before yours. 

Other dancers were touching up their outfits as well, skimpy little things that barely qualified as a costume. The leotards were black with thin stripes, sparkly silver edges that dug into your groin and under your arms. The designer, an evil little bitch with too much hair and a permanent sour expression, thought she was so damn important. Half the time, it was clear that she thought she was too good to design clothes en masse for a dance club. 

You wore fishnet stockings like the others, black leather heeled boots, and a tiny black hat in your hair. You had sparkly glitter dusted across your cheeks so that your eyes would pop. Not that anyone would see you. You were relegated to the back in every single fucking number. 

Everyone here had the same dream as you. It just came down to who was hungrier. Who was going to stick it out. You had been dancing your whole life and you’d be damned to let some wide-eyed, bushy tail ho from Minnesota steal your dream. You’d put in the work, you’d put in your dues, and soon, you’d be headlining your own show. Working with top directors and choreographers. Maybe even get into dancing on TV.

“One minute!” One of the stagehands called into the room. Kimmy approached you and looked at you in the mirror. 

“Another day?” She asked.

“Another dollar,” you said back. 

You both grinned and stood up, heading out of the dressing room and into the chaos backstage. Stagehands moved in a dance all their own, carefully moving around each other with headsets squawking with directions you couldn’t hear. Coordinating the lights and music, curtains, and set decorations. 

The previous music was coming to a close, ending on a loud roaring beat that you felt down to your toes. Adrenaline thumped through you. Despite whatever else you went through, this made sense. This was the time that your mind finally shut up. That your focus on your dreams drifted to the back and all you had to do was feel the music. The euphoria that came with losing all sense of identity while dancing.

You stood on the stairs on the left side of the stage, too far away to see the current set; you’d seen the performance so many times you had it memorized. The group before you had done a circus themed dance, full of contortionists, flips, and tumbles. The performers worked hard to make it look so seamless, you were in awe every time. 

They were due to exit on the right, to not interrupt your group. Their song ended, the curtains closing and claps echoing throughout the club. You were shuffled on stage, getting into position in the far back. Haters. Whatever. 

Stagehands used pulleys to change the scenery behind you, to an alleyway facade. There was a fake brick wall beside you getting rolled in. The announcer, the sleazeball Rusty, was on stage and getting everyone pumped up. 

You looked at Kimmy and made a face and she giggled, waving you off. The music for your number started to play, a slow and sexy jam. You were supposed to be a lady mafia, punishing men in a cold dark alley. 

Once the curtains were open and the spotlight hit you in the face, you were gone. There was only the part you played, filling in the background while the lead dazzled the audience. You told yourself not to care, but deep down you did. It was disheartening to know that in your heart of hearts, you were more talented. You were a better dancer. You just refused to suck Rusty’s dick to get to the top. 

So you focused on the music, on the dance, and executed it flawlessly. You were in the back now, but you weren’t going to stay there. You didn’t see the audience, you didn’t see the idiots at the bar, and you didn’t see any of the VIPs in the back, scoping out the dancers to see which ones they wanted to bring to the private backrooms for a “dance”. 

You didn’t play that shit. You were too spiteful, too hateful, too outspoken. And you’d continue to do so. You had to take a pay cut to not be involved with that shit. It was illegal and unfair, but it beat spreading your legs for dirty cops and gangstas. 

As you danced, your mind was partially split between what you were doing and the man you met the other day. Fontaine. You couldn’t stop saying his name. It rolled so well off of the tongue. Fontaaaine. 

You nearly missed a step and mentally slapped yourself. You focused on the dance, lots of gyrating and popping your hips. Lots of slow glides down to the floor and rolling your back. Invisible prop assistants threw you all fake uzis and you ended the dance facing away from the crowd. You jerked your hand to pretend like you were shooting a gun into the alleyway while a group of male dancers pretended to die.

The crowd cheered behind you but your mind was already beating yourself up. Already going over what you could have done better. It’d help if your performances were recorded but for the “privacy of its patrons”, Rusty wouldn’t let anyone record inside. Phones had to be off or silent and there were plenty of bouncers willing to break expensive phones to ensure everyone’s “safety”. 

Among the last to leave the stage, you turned to walk back to the dressing room. It didn’t feel like thirty minutes went by. You were sweating buckets though. Fat little droplets soaking your leotard and dripping from your temples. 

“Aye!” You turned to the sound. “Over here!” 

You knew better than to follow some strange sound around backstage, but the voice sounded familiar. Like warm caramel. You looked towards the front, where a bouncer stood to ensure that no one slipped past the curtain. 

“Over here!” You walked towards the darkened back, following the sound. There stood Fontaine, standing behind a storage door. He smirked when he saw you. 

“What are you doing back here?” You rushed over to him, pushing him into the storage room. You looked for people behind you. This area was where dancers left so it was hardly used for anything else. There were old decorations here, forgotten sets that needed to be stripped and repainted. 

Fontaine’s callused hands pulled you into the storage room. Somehow, he found the lone lamp that worked and the soft light filled the room. It was junky. Full of chairs, tables, tablecloths. The overflow supplies. 

“You said if we bumped into each other again, you’d tell me your name,” he said. 

“This isn’t bumping into each other,” you pointed out. Your hands were still around his arms and his hands had relocated your hips. 

“Sheeit, this is better,” he said. 

You shook your head. “What are you doing here, gangsta boy?” You asked.

“Tell me your name first,” he said. He cocked his head to the side, letting you get a glimpse of his dark eyes. 

A deal was a deal, you guessed. You told him your name and he rolled it around his tongue like cotton candy. “I like that, suits you,” he said.

“Your turn,” you said.

“Scarlets run this place, you ain’t know?” He asked.

“You work for Porter Sommer?” You asked. Porter Sommer was a ruthless drug kingpin that ran all of South Central. There wasn’t shit that went down in the hood that he didn’t have a fat little finger in. You’d only seen him once and it was enough to turn your stomach. He had dead eyes like a shark. 

“He ain’t all that, I swear,” Fontaine said, shaking his head. “He the only nigga that give back ‘round here.”

“Give back? He got kids doing drugs in the parking lot before their parents pick them up. He shake niggas down for every last nickel they got,” you said. 

“That ain’t us. That’s that bitch Shayne,” Fontaine said. He shook his head. “I ain’t come here for all that. I saw you on stage and I had to tell you that you were amazing.”

Now that you knew who he worked for, you weren’t sure if you wanted to continue dealing with him. You hadn’t given much thought to which side of the street he fell on. The Crips and the Bloods thought they were the top bosses in LA, aggressively defending square blocks they didn't own.

Porter Sommer and Shayne Blandford were the real OGs. They actually bought up the houses and stores on the blocks, doing their hardest to outbid each other at every opportunity. They both preyed on the weak and didn’t care who got caught in their crossfires. 

Fontaine looked at you with such admiration though. Like he saw you. Like you weren’t just another dancer on stage. That he saw you with the same lights shining on you that you pictured in your head. 

You stepped away from him to try to get some clarity. Obviously, touching him and getting that close to him was addling your brain. You were seriously thinking about entertaining a bad boy. One of the worst.

“What do you do for Porter then?” You asked. You crossed your arms. 

Fontaine sighed and leaned back against an old desk. It wobbled under his weight and he looked down at it but then turned his attention back to you. “Do it matter? You gon’ judge me for it anyway,” he said.

“I’m not judging that you’re a corner boy. I’m judging that you work for Porter. That man is…scary,” you said.

“He a’ight,” Fontaine said with a shrug. “And I ain’t no corner boy no mo. Ya boy moved up and shit,” he said. He smirked and you could see him puffing his chest out. You giggled. He looked so proud of that fact. 

You wanted to keep up your defenses against him. You wanted to walk out of the room and tell him to get lost. You could not get your head turned out by a gangsta. You didn’t have the heart for that kind of life. Why did you have to meet someone like him and he was bad news? 

“Moved up how?” You asked. 

“Protection services,” he said and waggled his eyebrows. You rolled your eyes playfully and couldn’t fight the grin that ran across your face. Whether he was outside or in this dingy ass room, he carried the same level of magnetism. Charisma. 

“I cannot with you,” you said. 

Fontaine stood up and slowly walked over to you. He had a mean ass lean to it that caused your stomach to flip in response. He was the total package, both in looks and wit. But, but, but. 

He stood before you and clasped his hands behind his back. “I feel something. And I know you feel something too. I’d like to get to know you, sweetheart. Let me change your mind about gangstas,” he said.

“I don’t pay attention to words, gangsta boy. Your world is dangerous,” you said. 

“You watch too many movies. Real gangstas talk and shit,” he said. He smirked and swayed from side to side. He was hypnotic. You swayed with him like he casted a spell on your body. Each word he spoke wove magic through your veins. 

“Oh, really? Bunch of backroom deals and offers people can’t refuse?” You asked. You began to back towards the door. The only way to survive Fontaine was to escape. To remove yourself from the situation. With his voice and the way he spun words, he’d be liable to talk you right off of the City Hall building. 

“Let me find out you like gangsta movies and you just giving me a hard time,” he said. He looked at you and slowly began to approach you. You had nowhere left to go. Your back was against the door. 

“Maybe I just like giving you a hard time,” you said. You moved your hand behind you until your hand touched the cool metal of the doorknob. Fontaine’s mouth twitched but it wasn’t a smile. Dammit, you wanted to see him smile. 

His minty breath fanned across your face as he leaned closer. You bit your lip. “I’on know if you heard me, but I’m in the protection game now. You don’t have to worry about anything ever again, I’m gon’ give you the world,” he said.

You smiled, letting his words fill up your head like fresh, doughy clouds after a storm. Plenty of people talked a good game. There was a long line of disappointing men who talked and talked but never backed it up. Starting with your daddy. Fontaine’s voice had the deep rumble of conviction behind it. He meant every single word. And you had no doubt that he could back it up. 

But, but, but.

“I can’t be bought, Fontaine. I never asked for the world,” you said. 

“I know. I’m gon’ give it to you anyway. With a matching moon,” he said. 

You dropped your eyes from his intense gaze. The light didn’t quite reach this far, so you two practically stood in shadow. He blended into the shadow. Welcomed it. Like he lived and breathed in it. 

“I’m a man of action. And I’ll prove it.” He dropped his head and kissed you. Electricity zapped your lips. His kiss was languid. Slow. Tongue already working its way inside your mouth like it owned it. Your hands came around his neck to pull him closer. 

The kiss was intense, disconcerting. He knew exactly what to do too, alternating kisses and little nibbles. Your wet lips smacked against his and your pussy throbbed. He pushed you into the door, hands gripping onto your hips like he was holding on for dear life. 

If he was magnetic before, it paled in comparison to touching him. Feeling him. You felt him everywhere. Each kiss sucked you further down into the shadows with him and you never wanted to taste the light again.

You paused here and took a deep breath. Mr. Gates cleared his throat and paused the recorder. “Do you want to skip this part?” He asked.

So kind. Mr. Gates was always so kind. He was a rare breed compared to all the men in your life. Especially when compared to Fontaine. However, Fontaine had no equal. There was no one who came close. 

That first kiss ought to have been where you drew the line. You knew better than to sit in storage rooms with strange men and let them kiss you. Let them feel on your booty. Just remembering it, brought heat to your cheeks and to your core. You felt the ghost of Fontaine’s hands on your legs, on your hips. That playful smirk tickling your neck.

You shook your head. “I just need a minute. I-I need him to know that it was always real for me. That I went into it with both eyes open,” you said. 

Mr. Gates nodded and got up, leaving his office for a moment. Your mind wandered, thinking back to those early days. From bumping into Fontaine to everything that followed after. Like the Hand of God tripped you over Fontaine’s feet so that you would meet. Would know. So that you would know each other and know what it was like to love with your entire body. 

Moments later, you collected yourself. Mr. Gates seemed to know exactly when. He came back into the office without any prodding from you. You smiled at his kind, grandfatherly face. He had white hair sticking out the sides of his head. You bet he was a player when he was younger. 

“Would you like to continue?” He asked.

You took a deep breath. “Yes, where was I? Um…so, Fontaine did exactly that. He proved with more than his words that we had something songs got written about…”

Fontaine attended every performance every night you worked. You were still in the background and he looked at you as if the spotlight was on you. He didn’t help your ego at all. 

After every night, he’d somehow sneak backstage with a single red rose to tell you that you were the best dancer up there. He stole kisses after each one too. At this point, you didn’t know why you were still resisting him. You weren’t some prude waiting for a man to drop to one knee; you didn’t believe in that shit. 

There was something a little hot about making him sweat it out. Something a little erotic about heavy petting and making out and living in the moment spent with your lips colliding and tongues exploring. With his hands around your ass and your hand rubbing him over his jeans. 

You hadn’t had many occasions to lust after someone. Sometimes guys made you crane your neck, but you had a single minded focus that saw you through your shitty childhood, through your awkward teenage years, through screaming matches, and slammed doors. You got what you needed from guys, the only things they were really good for, and you left them high and dry. You left them while spit flew from their mouths as they called you bitches, hos, and anything else their little brains could think of.

Funny how once you treated boys how they treated you, you were suddenly the devil incarnate. 

But you lusted. Every dip of Fontaine’s hips made your body respond in kind. Like he had a direct line to your pussy and constantly tugged on it to drive you crazy. He knew the effect he had on you too. 

He always made sure to blow you a kiss while you were on stage. When he smirked, he liked to look at you out of the corner of his eyes. He made sure to grab your ass while making out, squeezing them like trying to get juice from a lemon. Oh and when he got to rubbing his stubble along your neck, your eyes would roll back and he’d tell you to quit being so cute before he dicked you down. 

Fontaine made you hot and bothered. In more ways than one. As much as you were interested in him, you still hated what he had to do to survive. You understood the game, but it didn’t mean you had to love it. 

When you weren’t on stage and you were taking your break, waiting for the next set, you would sneak out to the front of the house so that you could see the performances, see what worked and what didn’t. Sometimes you’d grab a drink and wait for Fontaine to sneak away to kiss you. 

And sometimes you’d see him heading to the private rooms, escorting your fellow dancers and whichever powerful men wanted to use them for the night. Rusty was always there with a grin on his face and dollar signs in his eyes. It was disgusting. 

Rusty never touched anyone but your best friend Kimmy. He took one look at her and fell ass over teakettle for your sweet friend who had a kid to look after. On top of paying her a little more, Rusty rented an apartment for Kimmy and her kid. She didn’t think anything of the little bargain. One man was better than a revolving door. 

Sometimes anger boiled in your veins at the mere thought. You wanted to burn this place to the ground. It was true that you chose to come here, night after night. However, dancing was the only thing that kept the anger at bay. Well, that wasn’t entirely true anymore. 

As Fontaine walked around the tables on his way to you, you found unexpectedly that his presence tamed the wildness of your anger. It wasn’t completely gone. The slightest thing would set you off. Until you bubbled over like a volcanic eruption, burning everything and everyone in your path. You weren’t like that with Fontaine. You didn’t want to be like that with Fontaine. And all it took was a few dozen roses and sweet stolen kisses. 

“Hey sweetheart,” he said, one corner of his mouth lifting. He was starting to grow his hair out. Since he moved to protection, he started dressing a little fancier. Dickies instead of jeans, plain T-shirts instead of whatever graphic tee caught his fancy. 

Fontaine dressed all in black did things to your libido that wasn’t fit for mixed company. The short sleeved black tee seemed like he bought a size down on purpose, to emphasize his muscles. 

“Hey you,” you said. 

“Isaac was telling me about the Fair. We should go,” he said. 

“The Fair? What we gonna do there?” You asked. 

“I’on know. Fair shit,” he said, that damn smirk. You were going to get him to smile if it was going to be the last thing you did on this earth. 

“You gon’ win me a teddy bear?” The question popped out before you could think about it and snatch it right back. You wished you could swallow the words, unring the bell, and ask him something different. Something that wasn’t a little too close to home. You always wanted someone to win you a teddy bear from one of those Fair games, carry it around for you. 

But that shit was for other, softer girls and men who actually gave a damn. For TV movies and shows with people who didn’t look like you. 

“I’m gon’ win the biggest one. So Friday night?” He asked. 

“Friday night,” you agreed, little butterflies taking flight in your stomach. 

“It’s a date sweetheart,” he said. He kissed your cheek and you watched his generous backside as he went back to the backrooms, making sure your friends were safe. As much as they could be. 

When he approached the door, Issac came out of it looking self satisfied. The corner of your mouth lifted in a grimace. Isaac was attractive but something was throwing you off about him. Whether it was his vibe or the oily way he looked at everybody, Fontaine included, you made a mental note to get the full story behind them.

It was obvious that they were close and did next to everything together. Issac said something to Fontaine who shook his head but bumped fists with Isaac. It’d have to be none of your business for now. 

Friday night rolled around and Fontaine was punctual in his champagne colored 90s Cadillac. You didn’t know much about cars, but you knew enough to appreciate the craftsmanship and that Fontaine lovingly took care of it.

It was shined to gleaming, silver chrome glinting from the streetlamps. Night was fast approaching and you had a long drive to Pomona, to the Fairgrounds. It was the first time in his car and you had to admit, you were a little nervous. 

Fontaine got out of the car and you had to whistle at him. He wore black jeans, black boots, and a red flannel buttoned up. The top two buttons were out, giving you a peek of a black tank underneath. He wore his signature jacket, the same one he wore when you met. You had half a mind to say fuck the Fair and invite him inside. 

“I know where yo nasty ass mind is at,” he said as he came around to the street to greet you with a kiss on your cheek. He handed you a single red rose.

“What you talkin’ ‘bout?” You asked.

“I know I look good,” he said. He smirked and stepped out, showing you his outfit. He dusted invisible lint from the front of his shirt and you laughed. 

“You really do look good,” you said. 

“But you look good enough to lick on,” he said. He bit his lip and eyed your outfit, a spaghetti strap dress with a modestly low neckline and blue and red ombre colors. It started out royal blue at the top until it began to lighten around the hips, turning into a jam red at the bottom. 

“And you call me nasty,” you said. You tapped his shoulder and his cheeks puffed up. You half thought you were going to get a smile but he stopped himself at the last minute. 

“Just telling the truth. Matter of fact, you look too damn good. I’on wanna spend the night catching bodies behind yo cute ass,” he said.

“Shut up!” You giggled. Fontaine said the cutest shit sometimes. Threatening murder behind you was not sexy, but when it dropped from his lips it was. It was a type of possession you didn’t think you craved, but you did. You wanted to belong to him in every sense of the word. 

Fontaine escorted you into the street and opened the door for you. You slid inside his car, smoothing your dress over the leather seats. It smelled clean, like some type of mountain scent laced with the particular smell of weed. Fontaine closed the door and walked around the front, climbing in himself. 

Low, thumping hip hop music was on in his car and you looked at him. This was different. He was different. And you only wanted to see where the night took you. 

As Fontaine got onto the 10 freeway, he got comfortable and leaned back in his seat. The seat was further back still and you got the sense that it stayed a little too far back on purpose. He kept his left hand on the wheel and dropped his other hand to your knee. 

You looked at it and it felt right. His hand was warm across your knee and you sunk into the seat, placing your hand over his. The corner of his mouth lifted as you began to speak and get to know each other beyond just his kisses. 

“How long you think you gon’ be a gangsta?” You asked.

“Damn girl. Not even gon’ ask me what my favorite color is?” He asked. The red lights from the cars in front of you lit up his face and you found that red suited him well. The starkness of the color played across his features in a way that made him seem timeless. 

“I already know what yo favorite color is,” you said.

“What?” He asked. He rubbed this thumb across your knee and you lost the ability to think for a minute. 

Everybody Loves the Sunshine played on his stereo and you shook your thoughts loose finally. “It’s purple,” you said.

Fontaine chuckled and shook his head. “Oh, you been paying attention to a nigga, huh?” He asked. 

“Whatever, Fontaine,” you said.

“Love it when you say my name. You draw it out and shit,” he said. 

“I do not! Just answer my question!” 

Fontaine was silent for a moment, weaving in and out of crazy LA traffic. Every year it got worse and worse. To the point that you almost didn’t want to leave the house most days. It was why you started taking the train more. It sucked, but it beat dealing with the mu’fuckas that continued to flock here chasing their paper dreams. 

“I’on know how to do anything else. That 9-5 ain’t me,” he finally said, his voice smooth and low. “I need to know if that’s ever going to be a problem. If you can ever accept that this is the life I’m in.”

He slanted his eyes towards you. This was the most serious you’d ever seen him. And Fontaine was a pretty serious person more often than not. He got this look in his eyes, like he saw the world burning before him and didn’t want to bother grabbing a bucket of water to help. Like he liked it. 

“I won’t promise to never speak on it. I’m…scared to lose you,” you said. You were surprised it was true. You made him sweat for a month, turning down his date ideas just to see what he would do. Testing him, you supposed. If he was in it for you or for what you had between your legs. Usually you could tell the difference with perfect accuracy.

When it came to Fontaine, nothing was certain. And you didn’t know if that scared you to the point of attraction, or turned you on to the point of fear. 

Fontaine squeezed your knee. “You don’t gotta worry about that, sweetheart. It’s me and you,” he said.

Me and you. Those three little words planted themselves inside you, taking root and growing vines around your bones. Sprouting leaves in your lungs and stretched towards your brain, filling it with the oxygen you needed to breathe. Three little words. The wonder of it brought unexpected tears to your eyes. 

You grinned at Fontaine. For the rest of the car ride, you got to know more about him. More about his little brother who was killed and why he joined the Scarlets. Why he took up a gun and was never putting it down again.

It made more sense in context. The circumstances were always fucked in the hood. And the tender heart you tried so hard to guard against all evil only broke more for Fontaine. He told you about how his mother retreated into herself. Only got herself together long enough to fake the funk at work and then disappeared into her room. 

With mounting bills and not wanting to live off anyone, Fontaine did what any other Black male did in his situation. He grew up. 

You told him about your toxic childhood. How your parents alternated between fighting and fucking. That when your dad was lost to the drink, he’d look at you like you were a stranger. And when he sobered up, he looked at you like you were a princess atop a castle. You never knew which side you were going to wake up to.

You told him about your mother and how she always seemed to be jealous of you. Like there was some aspect about how she raised you that she didn’t like. That it was your fault for taking her instruction to heart and not giving a fuck about what anyone said. You wanted something, you went after it. 

There was no love in your house so you got out when you were 17 and never looked back. Fuck them. You didn’t want to stay in that house anyway. 

Reaching the Fairgrounds, you and Fontaine turned to lighter subjects. How or why you got into dancing. Your favorite dancer was Debbie Allen. You wanted to be her so badly that you studied every move she ever made. That you went for ballet because that was where she started. 

She was able to get into TV but that wasn’t really where you wanted to be. Maybe when you got older and your knees started to rebel. For right now, you just wanted to dance. To be free. 

You held hands with Fontaine, talking and laughing while you pulled each other around the Fairgrounds. You’d only been once, when you were younger, and hadn’t bothered since then. 

There were rides and the sizzling smells of meat that made your mouth water. Desserts, weird food combinations like a Krispy Kreme donut burger, and the sounds of children’s laughter. The ground was littered with wrappers, coupons, and papers. 

Fontaine paid for your play cards, dropping a wad of money that made your eyes bug out. He kissed your cheek and told you to go nuts. Anything you wanted to do or try. There was no limit. You told him that he was crazy. 

“The world and the moon to match, sweetheart,” he whispered against your lips. You grinned and dragged him everywhere. On the ferris wheel, on the spinning ride, and on the zero gravity one until your stomach hurt so badly that you had to sit down. Your head spun painfully and Fontaine rubbed your hand while you giggled about it.

You went into the funhouse with its crazy mirrors. Fontaine only had one request, that you go on the haunted ride with him. You were determined to stay far away from it. You hated the feeling of being scared. He peppered your cheeks with kisses until you relented and got on with him.

You suspected that was his plan all along. To have you clutch onto him for dear life. He chuckled at your theatrics but didn’t make you feel bad.

“Come on, girl, I got you,” he said. He kissed your cheek and pulled you into the safe embrace of his arms. You giggled. You was gon’ have his babies if he kept doing cute shit like this. 

After that ride, you settled on Pink’s for dinner. The smoke from the truck was whipped into the sky by a bitter breeze. You should have brought a jacket. You forgot how fucking cold it got at night out here. 

Without saying a word, Fontaine made you wear his jacket. You attempted to tell him that it was okay, if nothing else yo mama ain’t raise no bitch, but he refused to take it back. “I’m hot anyway,” he said. 

You grinned, looking up at him. He winked at you and ordered you food. You ate and laughed and talked about nothing in particular. Shit you found on TV. Movies you happened across. Books you’ve read. Music you listened to. 

You yawned and leaned your head against him after another round of rides and dessert. A huge funnel cake topped with ice cream and chocolate drizzle. Fontaine had to help you finish it in the end.

“You gon’ have to roll me out of here after all this,” you said, licking your spoon for every wayward swipe of chocolate and smacking your lips with a loud pop. When Fontaine didn’t say anything, you turned towards him. His gaze was fixed on your mouth. 

“Fontaine?” You asked. 

He gripped your chin between his thumb and forefinger, bringing you closer. He licked the corner of your mouth and you moaned, feeling his hot tongue on your cold face. He hummed in the back of his throat. 

“Delicious,” he said. 

He pulled back with a smirk, rubbed your chin, and pulled back. Your whole body heated. Cascading down your body in waves. You rubbed your thighs together, wetness starting to pool in your panties. 

“We got a little more to spend before we dip. Let’s get you that teddy bear,” he said.

“I was just joking about that,” you said. You gulped around the tension. So thick, it stuck in your throat. 

“I wasn’t,” he said. He stood up from the bench and held out his hand. You took it, hand fitting his like a glove. He threw out the plate you finished up and tucked you into his side while he walked.

In the middle of the grounds, there was a row of carnival games like ring toss and popping balloons. There was also a basketball hoop. Fontaine made a beeline for it, rolling up the sleeves of his flannel. A staff member scanned the play card and loaded up the basketballs for Fontaine.

He tested the balls and soon, started sinking ball after ball. Your mouth dropped open. He could’ve been a basketball player with that lethal game! The staff member told you to pick out a small teddy bear. Fontaine stopped you. 

“One game is a small teddy bear, but three mediums is a big one right?” Fontaine asked.

The staff member, some pimply kid, popped his gum and nodded. Fontaine loaded up more games, winning each and every one until you had three medium ones and exchanged it for a giant fuzzy teddy bear. It was so big! You squealed when the staff member handed it to Fontaine. He chuckled at your reaction. 

You squeezed one of the arms and couldn’t help jumping up and down. You were happy to take the small teddy bear. But the fact that he kept going made your heart soar. “Worth it just to see your face,” he said. You kissed his cheek a hundred times and he finally smiled.

It felt like your world narrowed to that expression on his face. Watching his whole face light up and eyes crinkle. He had a wide smile that took up his whole face. His smile was infectious but you were too dumbstruck to smile back. 

“Come on,” you said. You grabbed his hand and pulled him forward.

“Where we going?” He asked.

“I wanna remember tonight. And you better smile!” He chuckled while you pulled him to the nearest photobooth. You probably should have done this before winning the bear, but fuck it. Tonight had been nothing short of perfect and you wanted to capture this moment the best way you could think of. Like those shows and movies did. With something real. Not just something captured on your phone. 

You wanted it in your hands. You wanted to slide it into a binder so that you could look at it over and over while in class. Daydream about him in between lockers and free time. Glance at him from across the way on the courtyard. Dance with him at Homecoming. He made you feel young, like you were back in high school with your first crush. Fontaine was everything. Absolutely everything. 

The teddy did fit, and you scooted in first. Fontaine chuckled and sat down next to you. He swiped the card and it began to give you instructions. Fontaine was serious the first go around, mean mugging the camera. 

“Forreal this time!” You giggled. 

Fontaine sighed and rubbed his head. “A’ight, a’ight,” he said. He loaded it up once more. He kissed you in the first picture. Then you did a few silly ones. He tickled you for one of them. On the last one, you couldn’t think of what to do next. So you just looked at him. He looked at you. The camera flashed and you saw it reflected in his beautiful eyes. 

You continued staring at each other until the booth buzzed, wanting to know how many copies you wanted. You printed two and finally scooted out. Fontaine scooped up the two cards and you placed your head on his shoulder to look at them. 

“Thank you, Fontaine. For everything,” you said. He just…he had no fucking clue what tonight meant to you.

“The world and the moon to match, sweetheart. You ain’t gotta thank me for this,” he said.

“Yes, I do. And I know just how to thank you,” you said. Your voice turned a little flirty and you lifted your head to look at him. He looked down at you and smirked. 

“Is that right?” He asked, licking his lips. 

“Yup. We better get back to my place before my roommate gets home,” you said. 

Fontaine took your hand and tugged you towards the entrance. You giggled the entire way, feeling giddy and light in a way you hadn’t in a really long time. Fontaine gave you that. Gave you that freeing feeling back. You thought you’d lost it when you accepted that your parents didn’t know how to love you. 

His Cadiallac sped down the open freeway, too late for the out of town mu’fuckas to fuck it up for everyone else. The windows were down and the wind rushed through the car with wild abandon. He drove safely, but fast towards your place, hand on your knee the whole way. 

The tension was back with a vengeance. Like you were both standing on top of a cliff somewhere ready to dive off. Heat pooled along with your arousal between your thighs and you couldn’t stop clenching them. 

Lust. Lust was a powerful thing. Detonating bombs in your core until you were practically drunk on them. Looking forward to them. Until there was only the dirty thoughts running through your mind and the feel of his callused hand on your knee. 

Fontaine managed to find a spot on your street. You were on the wrong side of Stocker, where you had to get to the spot faster than your neighbor. Fontaine got out first and then opened the door for you. He even grabbed the teddy for you so he didn’t have to come back outside for it. 

You pulled him into your crappy apartment that you shared with Kimmy. Considering Rusty was paying for it, it could have been worse. You still owed rent to him and had to clear out when he wanted to ditch his wife and come mess with Kimmy. She was out with her son and likely wouldn’t be back until sometime Sunday. You didn’t tell Fontaine this. You didn’t want him to think that you were plotting on him. 

But you were. You weren’t sure if he was the type to stay after sex, or once he got off, he was already looking for his pants. You wouldn’t really bring him upstairs if it was the latter. You got the feeling that he was a little clingy under that hard facade. 

You only turned on enough light to get across the living room and into your room. You turned on the lamp. Both of you were breathing heavily. Bodies preparing to experience an unparalleled pleasure. 

Fontaine gripped your hips and you giggled, accepting the kiss he laid on you. The ones before had been tame. He had been holding himself back. These were wilder. Crazier. Lips smashing into yours with a desperate plea to get closer and stay closer. 

He pushed his jacket off of your shoulders and you worked on the buttons of his flannel. He helped you pull it off of him and you licked your lips at your first real look at his body. At the tattoos down both sides of his arms. You didn’t have time to catalog them all, but you would eventually. You were going to lick and trace every single one of them.

He was thick in all the right places. A hard stomach and big arms. His stubble tickled your chin while he started to kiss your cheeks and your neck. You were a twisting mess of flailing arms and legs trying to get out of your sandals, his shoes, and his pants while working your way over to the bed.

You pushed him to sit on it and he bounced with a small chuckle. You dropped to your knees, tugging at the zipper of his jeans. “Yo, what you doin’? Ladies first,” he said.

You leaned up and kissed him. “I appreciate that, but I said I wanted to thank you proper,” you said. 

“Sheeit, don’t let me stop you then,” he said. He grinned, gifting you with another rare smile from him. It fueled your desire. 

You tore desperately at his pants and briefs, freeing his long, thick dick. You moaned at the sight of it. The tip already weeped, precum beading. You swiped your tongue at it and Fontaine moaned, rolling his neck. 

You continued to please him, licking him in certain spots trying to learn what turned him on. What made his dick twitch in your hands or his balls jerk. You wrapped your lips around his thick head and sucked him down. 

“Fuck! Just like that!” Fontaine groaned. His hands disappeared into your braids, tugging on it. You groaned around his dick and he hissed in return. You batted your eyes at him and sucked him for real this time. No more teasing. No more games. No more tests.

You drooled on his dick, growing wetter at the act. You could practically feel him inside you already, ruining you for any other man. You used both of your hands to please him where your mouth couldn’t reach. 

Sputtered words and soft commands filled your ears on top of you gulping him down. “Mm, suck that shit down, sweetheart,” he groaned.

That spurred you on, that you were doing a good job. You gripped his thighs and leaned up to take more of him. “Gah damn,” he said and licked his lips. 

You took him in deeper, as far as you were able without using your hands. You breathed where you could. The only thing that mattered was letting him know what this night meant to you. What he meant to you. 

You slurped on his dick, letting the spit lube up more of his dick for you to slide on him. His moans grew louder, fingers clutching your braids harder. “I’m finna bust,” he groaned.

You kept going. As if that was supposed to stop you? That was the goal! You wanted him to bust. You wanted to empty his balls into your mouth. You wanted to taste every ounce of his cum in the back of your throat.

He gasped and he was unleashing himself inside you, filling your mouth with him. You swallowed him down and moaned, arousal leaking from you. Pussy throbbing. 

Fontaine grabbed his dick and pulled him from your mouth, tapping the head against your lips. You kissed him and he smirked. “You a bad one, ain’t you?” He asked.

You shook your head. “Oh? You a good girl?” He asked.

You nodded. He hummed, the low vibration sending signals down to your pussy. “Good girls get rewards don’t they?” 

You nodded, too struck dumb by him to say anything else. What was there to say? If you opened your mouth, all kinds of sticky, gooey, lovey dovey shit would fall out and you’d never been good at that. 

Fontaine stood up and helped you to stand, he kissed you, not caring that he just finished in your mouth. You loved a nasty nigga. He unzipped your dress and kissed your shoulders while it fell from your body.

He unhooked your strapless bra, freeing your titties and licking his lips at the look of you. “Like two little chocolate kisses for me,” he said. His lips descended on them, suckling each one and learning the shape and feel of them in his mouth. 

His hands worked your panties off, pushing them off your legs. He kissed on your chest as he laid you down and now it was his turn to get on his knees. His turn to push his head between your legs and suckle his way past your pussy lips. 

“Oh fuck!” You moaned. His tongue was a gift from the gods. Long and big, he flattened it against your pussy and moved his head in circles. Your breaths shuddered and your body twisted, legs shaking. 

He pulled the orgasm from you like it was his divine right and you screamed out, lungs burning with the effort. Fontaine kissed your thighs and your belly, wiping your essence off on you.

“Let me taste,” you begged. Fontaine chuckled and climbed up your body and kissed you, letting you taste just how wild he made you. You scratched up and down his chest and back, pulling him closer. 

“Let me feed you this dick,” he said.

“Feed it to me, baby,” you moaned.

He gifted you with another grin. Wide smile and crinkly eyes that you wanted to swim in. He pushed his jeans completely off and next went his black tank. He didn’t have any tattoos across his spacious chest and you ran your hands over him, learning every mole or scratch on him. 

He had a faint scar across his shoulder and you traced it with your thumb. You didn’t have time to ask him about it before his dick was pushing at your entrance.

You hissed and pushed on his chest. You were sure you were wet enough, but he was still massive. “Slow! Slow!” You cried.

He tilted his head and moved his hips, pushing deeper into you. Once the tip was in, he shoved all the way in with one hard thrust. You gasped, your mouth forming a perfect ‘O’ as he stretched you out with a bite of pain.

You slapped at his shoulder. “I said slow!” 

He chuckled and kissed you, trying to ease the sting. “I can’t help it. You so fuckin’ wet. I need you,” he moaned. He fed you long, deep strokes touching a deep, sweet place inside of you that might’ve been your soul. Like he wanted to write his name in the very fabric of you and never lose you. 

You gasped as he delivered these strokes, hissing when he hit that deep spot again and again. Your legs began to shake in earnest. “Mhm, don’t hold it, sweetheart. Let that shit go and lemme feel it.”

“Fon-tai–” you moaned.

“Shhh, I know you wanna call my name. I know you do. But all you gotta do is focus on that nut. Focus on my voice,” he asked.

He stretched you perfectly. And from how much arousal there was, it was staining your sheets. You were sliding up and down on his dick now, titties flapping from the strength of his strokes. 

He moaned, watching the expressions play out over your face. He cupped one of your titties, pushing down to hold you in place while he fucked you. “Mhm, doing so good, sweetheart. So good, focusing on you. Focusing on what I’m giving you.”

“Oh god, oh god,” you moaned, eyes rolling back in your head.

“Shit, just like that baby. Grip it just like that,” he moaned. 

Your cries turned wild, keening, and loud while you gripped onto him and shook and twitched through your orgasm. He hummed while you did so. Satisfied with himself. 

“You-you didn’t…” 

“I know, turn over,” he said. His deep voice let you know that he wasn’t playing. Somehow, you found the strength to flip over. He smacked your ass, watching it jiggle.

He entered you once more and you cried out. You would never get used to his size. Never get used to him slamming and stroking inside of you. 

“Fuck!” You moaned. 

“Yeah, I know,” he said. You could hear the smile in his voice. Hear how he knew exactly what you needed.

He gripped big chunks of your ass and used it like handles to slam you down on his dick, faster, and harder. Your elbows ached from trying to brace yourself against him. You slammed back, giving as much as you were taking.

“Ouue, that’s my good girl. You show me what you got,” he encouraged.

You continued to throw it back, craning your neck in time to see him throw his head back, surrendering to your pussy. It was enough to make you cry out, back bowing to another powerful, earth-shattering, world-altering orgasm. 

“Take that shit, baby,” he moaned and then finally climaxed, pumping you full of his delicious cum. 

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, I need it, baby,” you moaned. 

“I know you do,” he grunted as his dick stopped pulsing. His cum leaked out of you as he pulled out. He spread your ass cheeks to watch. He slapped your ass when you were sure no more would come out. You were thoroughly stuffed like a twinkie. 

Fontaine left the room and you collapsed forward onto the bed, strength leaving you. A bit of nervousness crept in its place though. You wanted to ask him to stay. You wanted to roll over and be all sexy and enticing. As much game as you talked, sometimes you had moments where you couldn’t make your mouth move. 

Fontaine came back into the room with a warm rag to clean you off. You moaned and he rubbed your ass as he cleaned off your thighs as well. You sluggishly rolled over and smiled at him.

“You’re so damn cute,” he said. 

“You are,” you said and smiled.

“When yo roommate getting home?” He asked. 

You shrugged and looked away from him. “Um, I think she said she doing something this weekend,” you said. 

“So you gon’ be home alone?” He asked.

You shrugged again and played with the edge of a pillow. “Yeah, I think so.” 

The bed dipped as Fontaine sat down on it. He grabbed your chin and made you look at him. You didn’t want to. You tried to fight him. But he only smirked and held on. You looked at him and he tilted his head.

“Do you want me to stay, sweetheart?” He asked.

“Only if you want to,” you said.

He shook his head and pecked your lips. “Be a good girl for me and tell me you want me to stay,” he said.

He smiled and you rolled your eyes. He got on your damn nerves. But you couldn’t quit him. 

“I want you to stay, please.”

He nodded and kissed you. Then he pulled you further onto the bed and tucked you under the covers. He defied any expectation you had of his gender. He really was killing it for anyone else. 

Though, as sweet as he was being, you knew that there would never be anyone else.

Me and you. 

You stopped here and wiped a runaway tear sliding down your cheek. You sniffled. You were both a couple of fools. Two fools in love. In a love that blinded you to anything else.

You should have told him to go. Should have told him that one night was all you could have. Even thinking that, your chest seized like your heart was being compressed under a massive weight. 

There was no you without Fontaine. And there was no Fontaine without you, you hoped.

Check out the Tyrone masterlist if you need more in your life! The Secret Tyrone Files

Graphics by saradika-graphics

[passionxwrites]

Doll Affirmations ♡

•i literally have my dream body. i wouldn’t change a thing.

•my face card is undefeated and iconic in every way.

•i am such a Barbie (and everyone else is just Ken).

•everyday is perfect and the world is my dollhouse.

•nobody can make me question myself…even if they tried.

[passionxwrites]

Sadly you guys I’m going to be M.I.A for a while. I just started Pharmacy school and this first year is really rigorous and I have to get focused and adjusted. Idk when I’ll be able to update but I definitely need to get settled with school first. I’m sorry to have started the story and have to take a pause so early but I hope you all can understand.

[passionxwrites]

4 Page Letter

Fontaine x Black!Fem!Introvert!Reader

Installation (1/?): ‘Infatuation’

Rating ― Adult (18+)

➝ You'd known Fontaine for years— attracted to him even, but you two lived completely different lives, and as much as you wanted to be his, you didn't like his lifestyle. You two had a history together, but he didn't want it to end that way― determined to change your mind.

Author's Note: s/o to @wakandas-vibranium for inspiring me (*also, you should def tag me in future Fontain fics [sprinkle sprinkle])! Hope you and many others enjoy this. I haven't written smut in over two years so PUHLEASE let me know if you like it. If ya'll fw it, let me know, I might make a mini-series out of this. Also, thank you so much for 200 followers :))

𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙩 ― lengthy ass intro, use of aave, use of the n-word, virgin!reader, plot with porn fr(minors dni), backshots, missionary, ora(fem! Receiving), fingering, p in v, unprotected sex (stay safe, ya'll), looots of dirty talk, overstimulation, this is just pure filth that’s all you gotta know lmao

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 ― use of vulgar language, sexuality, mentions of drugs, and other adult themes.

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 — 2.7k

Growing up in the projects wasn't the life that your family had planned out for you. They wanted you to have everything and were upset they couldn't give it to you. You were young, naive, and you didn't realize how much this background affected how people saw you, how they treated your family. But when you're a child, you could care less about what people think― unless they made you care.

Because of the rough neighborhood you lived in, your group of friends was scarce, and your family trusted little to nobody in the neighborhood. That was until you were introduced to Fontaine.

Your family couldn't put into words how well the two of you got along together. Whenever either of your mothers needed a day off from their kids, you would get sent to his house, or vice versa. A dull moment was rare when you were with him.

It wasn't until high school that you started to see how cruel people could be, and how others were treated if they didn't have the best fit, or weren't wearing the new J's. Your district was known for the abundance of drug dealers, and it was only a matter of time until Fontaine fell into the business― showing up to class in fits he was always talking about how he could only dream of. Your family had made you pull away from him after his lifestyle changed, wanting to keep you out of trouble. The older you got, it was hard to decipher if your feelings for him only stopped at friendship.

You had seen his demeanor change as your academic career went on, he began to avoid you more, skipping class became frequent, and your family wanted him around less and less. You were quiet and kept to yourself, and considered a model student, but that didn't necessarily mean that you were innocent. You didn't mind if you were friends with a drug dealer, you just wanted your friend back.

You never skipped class or ignored your homework, but you definitely snuck out or hung out with Fontaine when your parents were absent, especially during school breaks.

You didn't do any dealing, but Fontaine began to call you his girl. You were always around after school, often smoking blunts in his room, or hanging with his homeboys― telling your family that you had a study group, knowing you were going to do shit you weren't supposed to be doing. But, he never let you around when he was doing business, you didn't need to be involved in that, and you had enough sense to not want to be.

The relationship you two had was a secret to your family, not to the streets, but as long as your family stayed away from the streets, it's not like they would know you would sneak to be with Fontaine or bring him into your home when your parents were away. It had to remain that way, and you didn't mind― he didn't either.

When it came to your senior year, the only time you saw Fontaine was on the streets, dealing like he has been. You'd do almost anything for Fontaine, but you'd be damned if you 'got locked up for a nigga with no future' as your mother put it.

When graduation came, Fontaine's seat was empty, his family was nowhere in sight, and you couldn't invite him to your graduation party. You couldn't bask in your accomplishments with him like you had planned Freshman year― opening your college acceptance letters, leadership roles, earning scholarships. You had to appreciate that on your own, but maybe he was thinking of that too.

The night before you left for college, you spent it in Fontaine's car, sharing a blunt while the playlist he made for you became your white noise, his lips never leaving yours, knowing that you'd never come back to see him. But you remembered to leave a letter the night before you left, knowing that would be your last night seeing him.

A long ass, four-page letter of you spilling your heart out on four pieces of paper, a lot of ink, and the prettiest handwriting you could muster, so he knew that you meant every word.

You were accepted to Rhodes College in Memphis with a full-ride scholarship, and despite the travel from the Glen, in your mind, the farther, the better. The day you drove to your dorm, Uhaul was full of your belongings, and your family waved you goodbye, just wishing that Fontaine was waving with them.

Another four years passed, pursuing your bachelor's, and offered a good paying job just a month before you graduated. You had saved up enough money working through college for your own space, and you were so excited to have a home of your own. Your family drove down to help you move in, and another familiar face soon after you were settled in. After four long years, you saw Fontaine at a corner store near your apartment. You invited him out for lunch not long afterward, finding out that he also moved here not too long ago.

You got to catch up on a lot of things, in more ways than one, with the trusty help of a blunt. Despite everyone having some type of sex story by their senior year, you never let Fontaine go all the way with you. Hell, his hand never even made an attempt to meet below your waist. Not even days after seeing him again, you both got the chance to show each other how much you've grown. Even while you still kept to yourself in your college years, it didn't stop you from living out your fantasies with boyfriends or situationships. Because all the things you really wanted to do, you wanted with him.

You missed how he always told you how pretty you were, sharing a blunt with his homeboys, and treating you like a princess. In that letter, you spilled your heart out, but also told him how you wanted him to treat you the next chance you got to see each other. The girl that Fontaine wanted to always believe the girl that was timid and stayed out of trouble, grew into a woman who wanted to be treated like a slut.

And now, there you were, on your couch― at your mercy as Fontaine ate you like he hasn't had a proper meal in years. The faint smell of weed from the ounce you smoked earlier, incense, the low lamp, Floetic playing lowly from your record player. The way his grills glistened from your juices, his voice groaning your name as he felt your hand push his face farther into your cunt, and so many other filthy things.

"Fuck! 'Taine, I can't..."

You were pushing to your third orgasm, and you haven't even been able to get near his pants, his hand doing the job for him. His precum peeking out from his tip. You felt your legs shake when Fontaine began to abuse your clit, threatening to close from the overstimulation. His strength overtook you, his grip on your thighs becoming tighter as he pried them back open, a nice smack on your ass following. He pulled away from your dripping cunt, with a sigh of relief.

"Don't make me tell you again baby, keep 'em open."

You whined, unable to form coherent words as you looked down at him, his hand slowly stroking himself, his tongue drawing tantalizing circles around your folds, eyes glued to your expression. You bit your lip, worried that you'd receive a noise complaint the next morning if you were any louder.

Fontaine placed a final kiss on your clit before sitting beside you, placing kisses along your body, suckling your breasts, and neck, and tenderly making his way to your lips, moaning when the taste of yourself caught on your tongue. You pulled away, whining once more as you felt a digit slide back in, your walls clenching as his thumb circled your clit. You spit on your hand and make its way down to where his cock was, glistening from his precum and spit used to lubricate it. A soft sigh spilled from his lips when he felt your thumb tease the tip, the rest of your fingers wrapping around him. You've never heard a voice prettier than his.

But Fontaine was more than eager to slut you out, inserting another digit, hitting the spot you so craved for his dick to reach. You gasp at the force, looking away from the man who was making you feel this good. Fontaine uses his arm that was wrapped around your head to make you look back at him, eyes filled with want. The most whorish moan you let out at the way he looked at you, your sopping cunt greedily taking his fingers, you also halting your motions from the intensity of his movements, a third digit sneaking inside.

Seeing you so vulnerable made his dick harder than you could imagine, and though you wanted to look away out of embarrassment, you knew it turned him on that he knew he was making you feel good, mouth agape, slightly throwing your head back, forgetting about the neighbors that would eventually hear Fontaine breaking your back like a muthafuckin' glowstick, just like you had requested those years ago.

"You was talking all that shit in ya' letter, what happened?" he was teasing, and he knew you didn't like that. A small chuckle left your lips, biting it to refrain from saying something that would be concerning to feminism. Fontaine pulled his digits from your pussy, your juices coated on his fingers, playfully smothering your slit with them before taking one into his mouth. He was sure that he hadn't read a letter more vulgar than yours. Deep down, you were a nasty bitch, and you knew he was more than willing to be your nasty nigga. His finger left his mouth with a pop, placing another coated digit near your face. Without hesitation, you took it into your mouth, a moan leaving his lips, imagining that his shaft was in your mouth instead.

"Knew you'd like that shit."

Well, of course, you wrote that in the letter. He pulled his finger away from your mouth, planting another kiss on your lips, his tongue delving into your cavern, eager to taste you again. You enjoyed Fontaine and his munch tendencies, but now, you wanted the real thing.

Softly, you pushed him away from you, repositioning yourself on the couch, so that your rear was facing him. You heard him chuckle from behind, a smack following, your asscheeks reddened from the constant abuse, his lips kissing where he made an impact, before planting another kiss where a small tattoo of his initials was placed just above the crack of your ass. Oh, the things you did in high school for him. Your back arched slightly for Fontaine to see your entrance better, his hand coating his cock with your juices before slowly inserting himself inside you, his palm on your hip, thumb softly stroking the skin.

"She fuckin' tight, was you waitin' on me?"

You were only able to mutter 'mhmm' before you felt him bottom out, a sigh of relief leaving your lips as you felt Fontaine place sloppy kisses on your neck, his other hand intertwined with yours that was holding onto the couch rest for dear life. Another whorish moan left your lips when he pulled out, only for him to put it back in, his hips slowly stroking into you. You whimpered, biting your lip to refrain from being too loud. Fontaine always knew you didn't like making a lot of noise, but he knew how loud you could really get if excited enough, especially if you were mad.

But at this moment, Fontaine wanted you to be as loud as your heart desired, and he didn't care if your neighbors knew his name by the morning. He began roughly rutting into you abruptly, eliciting another loud moan out of you, his palm resting under your stomach, applying pressure so he could feel himself entering you.

"Don't get shy on me, ma. I wanna hear you."

"But 'Taine―," another smack landed on your ass, earning a yelp as Fontaine's pace began to gain speed. You felt the tip of his dick reach a certain spot inside you, your back arching, walls beginning to convulse as you took his length, each moan from you became louder than the last.

"ooh fuuuck.."

"That's right, take that shit," another smack landed on your ass. His other palm with the most ungodly grip on your thighs as he hunched over you, whispering all the shit he wanted to do to you the night before you left for Rhodes.

"Fat ma was made f'me huh?"

"Only you 'Taine," you breathe out, another scream of pleasure coming from your chords as you began to meet his thrusts, his encouragement egging on the woman that you wrote in your letter. You hear Fontaine's grunt of approval as he placed both of his hands under your breasts, one hand squeezing at them. His thrusts became erratic, signaling that he was gonna cum soon, and you egged him on further.

His movements came to a sudden halt, pulling out of you, a whine spilling from your lips, Fontaine turning your body to face him. Sweat was covered on every crevice of your bodies, staring at one another with such a want you didn't think was possible. You sat up on the couch properly before slouching, your legs widening, knees resting on either side of your head as your arms held them back, your hand opening your pussy lips, begging for him to enter you once more. Fontaine happily obliged, dick stiff and still at attention for you.

"Fuck me like you mean it nigga," you breathed out, maintaining eye contact as he filled you once again, moaning softly at how he sinked into you, wasting no time as his hips began to move at an inhuman pace.

"Talk yo' shit," he chuckles, another slap landing on your ass.

The sound of skin slaps, pants, his grunts and your moans could be heard throughout the complex, and you didn't care who heard you scream his name at this rate.

"Shit! 'Taine― I can't.." you mewl, your legs shaking, your body squirming, but Fontaine's tight grip made sure to keep you in place as you were nearing your orgasm.

"Ian' tryna hear all that, ma," he responds, his palm placed under your stomach once again, his thumb circling your clit, your whimpers, and moans staggering, knowing that you were about to climax.

"You gon' cream on this dick, baby?"

"Fuck! yeah..," you wail, the curve of his dick reach your special place, your walls convulsing as you reached your climax, Fontaine taking in the sight before him, your cunt sucking him further in as he looked into your eyes as you came, and he felt you tighten the more you held contact.

His fast thrusts turned into deep strokes, coaxing you through your orgasm, calming you down from your high, placing a final kiss between your breasts before slowly sliding out of you, a contempt sigh leaving both of your lips as spurts of cum landed on your stomach.

"'Shy' my ass." You softly laugh at his taunting, trying to regain composure as you sat back up from the couch, Fontaine stepping away for a moment, returning with towels, more weed, water, and a change of clothes for the both of you.

You thanked him as you set the items on the coffee table, Fontaine sitting beside you, caressing your sides as his eyes searched you with adornment and care.

"You so beautiful, ma."

You nervously laughed and looked away once again, but his hand made you face him, planting a sloppy kiss on your lips. You deepened it as your tongue delved into his mouth, a moan leaving your lips and he playfully bit your bottom lip.

"You was whinin' about not bein' able to take it, don't get a nigga going again," Fontaine cautions you.

"Maybe that's what I want," you quip, getting up from the couch as you grab one of the towels, and walking toward the bathroom. Turning back to Fontaine, who was already following behind you, towering over your figure.

"Careful what you wish for, baby."

[passionxwrites]

Hey y’all, I will be updating soon at some point. I’ve been getting ready to move to my new apartment and start school so life has been a little hectic but as soon as I’m settled I’ll be updating Best Thing Chapter 4. Also I’ll be starting a tag list so if you would like to be added let me know ✨

[passionxwrites]

🏷️ samarialeah

[passionxwrites]

In Awe✨ (AI) 🧜

Digital & AI Artist ShabineDreams Art

[passionxwrites]

[passionxwrites]

🧡sheeeeeee🧡

[passionxwrites]

Surprise

Keith Powers as Keith

WARNING: SMUT, 18+

Masterlist Masterlist 2

“ Hey Y/N! He’s out of his office now and headed down to the break room. Come quick! “ Keith’s secretary Amanda texts you.

“ Thank you girl! “ You responded before sneaking out of the bathroom and slipping into his office.

Being at home all day was boring and draining. Especially when your husband is at work. After working for so long and so many hours, you’ve finally put in a 2 week vacation. With this vacation time, he decided to plan a trip to Jamaica to help you relax and also have some alone time. While that trip was this weekend coming up, you needed him now.

With him being a businessman, he’s always working long hours. Instead of waiting for him at home, you decided to surprise him at work with a sexy outfit. Since you were close with his secretary, she helped you plan the surprise.

It’s currently 4pm and his meetings are done for today. With the free time he had for the rest of the day, you decided to keep him occupied with you.

You tightened up your trench coat and crawled under his conference table. As you waited for his arrival, Amanda was typing away on her computer and became distracted by a group of laughter that was approaching. Amanda’s eyes widened when she seen Keith walking up with other businessmen. She quickly looked back at his schedule for today to make sure she didn’t misread things but his schedule showed that it was clear today.

“ Um Keith? You have a meeting ? “ Amanda asks while standing up from behind her desk.

“ Oh yes. It wasn’t planned. I ran into them and decided to have a quick meeting with them anyway to go over financials. “

Keith asks while walking towards his office. As Amanda tried to speak up to get his attention before he opened the door, he was already inside. While laying under the table, your eyes widened as you seen a 5 men walk in with Keith. You quickly but quietly pulled out your phone and seen a new text from Amanda.

“ This meeting was not on his schedule! He literally just decided to have one. I’m sorry! “

“ Ughh. It’s fine. “

You sighed while responding and locked your phone. Keith sat at the head of the table and the rest of the men sat in the other seats. You laid on your side with your elbow holding you up.

“ Alright guys, let’s get into it. Last month’s expenses were pretty high.. “

Keith started off making you roll your eyes. You had no idea how long this meeting would last and was getting irritated by the minute. 20 mins go by and you wanted to say fuck it and get from under the table but you knew that would be embarrassing. By the way they were talking, you knew this meeting was going to take forever so you had to get his attention. As they got quiet, you tapped Keith’s foot.

“ Oh sorry bro. I didn’t mean to hit your foot. “ Keith speaks up to one of the men that was sitting closest to him.

“ Huh? “

“ Oh that wasn’t your foot? I must’ve hit the table. My bad. “

Keith chuckled before they moved onto the next topic. You sighed and placed your face in your hands. After 10 minutes, you hit his foot again while the men were talking but Keith wasn’t. Keith seen that the man was sitting away from him now and he couldn’t have hit his foot. He pretended to drop his pen and leaned down to look under the desk. Once he seen you laying under there, he slightly jumped making him hit the side of his head on the edge of the table.

“ Shit.. “ Keith winced while rubbing the side of his head.

“ Are you okay? “ One of the men asked.

“ Yeah I’m good. I dropped my pen. “

He leaned back down and looked at you with the ‘What are you doing here look’ with a shocked look on his face.

“ Get them out of here! “

You mouthed while pointing to the door. Keith tried not to laugh and grabbed his pen before sitting up.

“ Ah fellas, I totally forgot about this video call I have to do. How about we finish this up tomorrow morning? “ Keith asked.

“ For sure. We’ll see you tomorrow. “

After dapping everyone and escorting them out, he finally closed the door and turned around to see you crawling from under the desk.

“ The one time I try to surprise my husband, this happens?! This is the first and last time i’m doing this. “

You pouted while standing up. You looked up to see him trying not to laugh while trying to hug you.

“ Don’t laugh! It’s not funny! It was hot under there. “ You smacked his hand away before crossing your arms making him laugh.

“ I’m sorry. Can you give me some love please? “

He asked while wrapping his arms around your waist. You smacked your lips knowing you couldn’t resist him and kissed him while resting your arms around his neck.

“ I missed you and i’m glad you’re here. What’s the surprise? “

He asked after kissing back. You stepped away from him and untied your trench coat before holding it open, exposing your body in This lingerie.

“ This. “ You smirked.

Even after being together for so long, you still made him yearn for you. Whether you had on lingerie or not he was ready to jump on you. You closed his agape mouth by lifting up his chin with your finger.

“ Close your mouth and go sit down on the couch. “

You pushed his jacket off of his shoulders and sat it on the conference table before guiding him backwards towards the couch. His eyes never left your body.

“ Shit.. Wait baby, Amanda is still here. “ He says before looking at you.

“ Trust me, she isn’t. “

You chuckled before pushing him down on the couch. You stood in front him slid your trench coat off of your shoulders and letting it fall to the ground.

“ Take off your shoes and pull that dick out. “

You bit your lip. Keith quickly kicked off his shoes and pushed down his pants. After taking them off, your eyes landed on his hard dick that was standing tall and waiting for you to sit on.

“ Stroke him for me.. “

You say seductively while parting his legs and sitting on your knees in between them. Keith started to slowly jerk himself off while you watched. Your mouth watered at the sight of his beautiful dick. You missed his taste in your mouth. You spit on the tip as he continued to jerk himself off to get him wet. He leaned his dick towards him to give you full access to his heavy sac.

You let your saliva slowly fall on his balls before sucking them into your mouth. You moaned as you swirled your tongue around and sucked on his sensitive balls. Keith laid his head back against the couch and moaned. You popped his sac out of your mouth and went to suck on each one while looking up at him.

“ Yes baby.. “

He moaned before biting his lip. You trailed your tongue up his sac and moved his hand to lick up his shaft. After spitting on his tip once more, you welcomed him into your wet mouth making his eyes close. You moaned at the taste of his dick against your tongue while sucking slowly.

You bobbed your head up and down slowly until he hit the back of your throat and lathered up more spit. He opened his eyes as he felt you suck faster while jerking him off. He watched you in awe with his mouth cracked open. Your mouth felt so good he didn’t know how to react.

“ Shit.. “

He scrunched up his eyebrows while moving your hair out of your face. The loud sounds of you sucking him up filled up his ears. You moved your hand and started bobbing your head deeper making him groan.

“ Mmm baby.. you missed this dick in your mouth didn’t you? Shit.. “

He groaned. You deepthroated him in response before popping him out of your mouth with spit trailing from your mouth.

“ Hell yeah I missed this big dick. Are you gonna let me taste that thick nut? “ You say seductively while jerking him off.

“ Uh-huh.. I want you to taste all of it.. “

He guided you back down onto his dick by placing his hand on the back of your head. You slipped him back into your mouth and went back to eating his dick up. His dick was a wet mess.

“ Fuck.. I feel it coming baby.. “

He moaned while starting to squirm under you. Hearing those words only made you suck faster. He slammed his hands down on the couch as his nut finally released from him. His loud groans could’ve been heard outside his office but he didn’t care. The more he shot into your mouth, the more you sucked on his sensitive tip making him twitch under you.

“ Damn.. You almost drained me. “

He says while breathing heavily. You popped his dick out of your mouth and swallowed his seed before speaking.

“ Oh, that’s what I plan on doing. “

You smirked before straddling his lap. You pulled your thong to the side and sinked yourself down on his dick. You both moaned together from the feeling of being connected to each other. When he was fully inside you, you moved your hips slowly while holding onto the couch and he held your waist.

“ Mmm I missed being inside you.. “

He bit his lip while moving your hips. He slid his hands up your back and unclamped your bra before pulling it off and throwing it to the side. You leaned towards him making him latch onto your nipple as you begin to ride him faster. He smacked your ass before gripping both cheeks as you continued riding him.

“ Fuck.. you feel so good daddy.. I love this dick so much.. “

You moaned while throwing your head back. Keith switched to your other nipple while moaning. You stopped for a moment to kick off your heels and planted yourself on your feet before bouncing on him. Keith released your nipple from his mouth and threw his head back along the couch as he felt the satisfying feeling off your tight walls massaging his dick. With his neck extended, you leaned down to tongue kiss his neck slowly. You could hear him pant and trying to form words but your pussy felt too good.

“ Talk to me daddy.. “ You say while leaning up to look at him.

“ Fuck.. You’re giving this pussy to me good.. “

He moaned. He placed his hands under you to grab your ass and started bouncing you faster. You leaned in and kissed him while moaning. The more he bounced you, the quicker your nut begin to form. You broke away from the kiss and moaned louder as it neared the edge.

“ I know, give it to me.. “

Keith says while looking up at you. Your thighs slightly trembled under his hold as your nut released from you. Keith sat you beside him and got on his knees while parting your legs. He immediately attached his mouth against your soaked flesh making you gasp. You watched as he was face deep in your pussy and slithering his tongue between your lips. He slipped his tongue inside of you making you throw your head back.

“ Oh fuck.. “

You moaned while placing your hand on his head. He tongue fucked your hole before licking up to your clit and slurping on it while moaning, The more he slurped, the more juices leaked from you.

“ Yes.. yes.. don’t stop daddy.. “

You moaned before biting your lip. He traps your clit between his lips and buried his face back into your pussy. Your moans grew louder as he continued sucking. Moments later, a waterfall of juices released from you making him release your clit and catch it with his mouth. You laid there whimpering and legs trembling from the powerful sensation. He leans over you and tongue kisses you while rubbing your slit with his fingers. You moaned from the taste of yourself as your tongues slithered against each others.

He pulls away and helps you before walking you over to the conference table and bending you over it. He gets on his knees behind you and spreads your cheeks apart before spitting on your asshole. He flicked his tongue on the rim of your hole before sucking on it sending chills up your spine. After getting it wet enough, he stood up and spits on his shaft before rubbing it in with his hand.

“ Hold that ass open for me.. “

He demanded. You held your cheeks apart and you felt his tip enter your asshole. Your mouth dropped with your eyes closing as you felt his dick fill up your second hole.

“ Shit.. That ass always squeezes me so tight.. “ He moaned.

“ It missed you so much.. “

You responded before he started thrusting. He looked down and watched as your hole tightly gripped him as he penetrated you. He groaned and moved your hands before smacking your ass repeatedly making your moans pick up.

“ Ooo yes.. God I love feeling you sliding in and out of me.. “

You moaned with your eyes closed. He hikes your leg up on the table and surprises you when he grabs you by the front of your neck as he started to speed up his thrusts. The sounds of your ass smacking against him filled up to the room. He showed no mercy as he pumped your asshole.

“ Oh fuck! Yes! “ You whimpered from the hold on your throat.

Keith stopped his thrusts and leaned you back towards him to kiss your cheek before pinning you back down into the table with his hand on the back of your neck and pounding your asshole. He was starting to hit your spot so good that it made you mute. Keith moved your hair out of your face and smirked once he seen your eyes had fallen to the back of your head.

“ Im digging in that spot huh? You want daddy to cum in this ass? “ He asked making you finally whimper.

“ Yes.. please.. “

You begged. As Keith continued pumping, that familiar build up started to form making his breathing shudder. Keith had one hand still on your neck and other on your waist as he buried himself deep before erupting inside you. You moaned loudly with him as you felt his dick pulsate inside you. He pulled out leaving you still bent over from the table.

“ This was one hell of a surprise. “ He chuckled before leaning down to kiss your ass cheek.

“ I don’t think I can move. Fuck.. “ You chuckled breathlessly making him laugh.

TAG: @keyera-jackson @90sisthenew80s @novaniskye @elocinnicole @blowmymbackout @nashja @kokokonako @judymfmoody @arination99 @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @miyuhpapayuh @smokingangelhoe @skyesthebomb @nicolexnight @weirdosandhopelessromantics @softscorpio17 @theeblackmedusa @playgurlxoxo @keyglockwife @unfriendlyblkhotti3 @sweet2krazee @mellowjellow6 @xsweetdellzx @pandam8 @melaninpov @soufcakmistress @murrylove @ninacutebee16 @berlincasstuff @melaninangel @dxddykenn @crvzy-fujoshi

[passionxwrites]

Training

Method Man as Jordan

WARNING: SMUT, DIRTY TALK, COACHING, 18+

Masterlist Masterlist 2

“ As many times we’ve fucked, you still want to act nervous? “ Jordan chuckled at your shy demeanor as he pulled off your shorts.

“ Shutup. “ You giggled as you started to blush.

Growing up, you never wanted to get in a relationship and they didn’t want spark interest in you. You were all about your school work and making your future. While everyone partied, had sex, you were in a library studying for whatever was coming up. After you graduated highschool and went into college, you realized that you needed to have a life outside of school work. You needed to have fun.

During your Junior year, you decided to go to a house party on a Friday night. Anybody was welcomed to come. You went through your closet to try and find something for a party attire and found This. You normally didn’t dress up much so this was a once in awhile thing. When you got to the party, you grabbed a drink and sat down on a couch. You didn’t know what to do or how to fit in. While you were looking around the atmosphere, the most popular guy in school had his eye on you.

He could tell you this wasn’t your thing and thought you were the most beautiful person he has ever laid his eyes on. He approached you and made you feel more comfortable. What you thought was going to be a friendship, turned into a exclusive relationship. You and Jordan have been together for 6 months now and as of 2 weeks ago, you gave yourself up to him.

He was caring, gentle, and understanding when it came down to it. He made your first time feel like a great experience. As time went on, you recently asked him to train you with new experiences in bed and he obliged.

“ Spread them legs for me. Don’t hide that pretty pussy from me. “

He says after slipping off your panties. You parted your legs exposing your wet pearl making him groan and lick his lips. He got in the sniper position with his durag on his head and nothing else on. One thing he loved to do was eat that sweet pussy. If he could do it all day, he would. As he came face to face with your flesh, he kissed each side before licking up between your lips to spread them further apart.

The way he sucked and slurped on your lips made a soft moan slip out. He stuffed his face in your pussy and ate it like it was his last meal. He couldn’t get enough of your sweet taste. He spread your lips apart with his 2 fingers and lapped his tongue against your clit.

“ You know how much I like to hear you baby.. Talk to me.. “

When you and Jordan slept together the first few times, he would talk dirty to you but you didn’t. You were too shy that you were going to say embarrassing things but as time went on, you slowly begin to open up to him.

“ O-Oh fuck.. “

You moaned as you started to feel him suck on your clit. He sucked and swirled his tongue around your clit while moaning. The vibrations from his moan around your clit made you slightly tremble.

“ Mmm.. she’s enjoying your tongue so much.. “

He loved hearing your sweet voice talk so dirty. He moved his two fingers off of your lips and slipped them inside you making you gasp with your eyes closed. As he pumped his fingers, he continued giving your erect clit all of his attention. The more he ate, the more juices soaked his face. He pumped his fingers faster and deeper making your back arch.

“ Oh right there! “

You moaned loudly while holding his head. He moaned and slurped as your nut spilled onto his tongue. He pulls his fingers out and licked his lips before hovering over your face and kissing you. You kissed back before pulling away and bringing his 2 wet fingers into your mouth catching him by surprise. He was so turned on at how you sucked his fingers.

“ There’s my nasty girl.. “

He says before pulling his fingers out and tongue kissed you. You held his face and sucked on his tongue before sloppily kissing him again. He pulls away and pins your legs back into the bed and positioned his tip at your entrance. As he slid in, your mouth gradually fell open the more he continued to fill your walls. You moaned softly while watching his dick disappear inside you. He placed his hands back on the back of your legs to keep them pinned down and started to slowly thrust.

“ You look so pretty taking my dick.. Let me see those eyes.. “

You opened your eyes and immediately locked in with him as he continued thrusting. His slowly thrusts turned into sharp thrusts catching you by surprise. He smirked as he watched your face change as he started pounding. You weren’t used to this pace, it took your breath away as you tried to speak. You looked down at his hips slamming into you while he groaned.

“ Mmm look at how well you’re taking it.. fuck.. “

“ Baby.. I-I can’t.. you’re too deep.. “ You whimpered as you started to feel him plunge deep.

“ Yeah you can.. You’re doing it right now. This pretty pussy.. “

You threw your head back and moaned loudly while trying to grab his hips. You could feel his dick stretching you going this deep. Jordan released your legs and placed them on his shoulders as he leaned down closer to you. With his forehead against yours, he started his thrusts again making your mouth drop. With this position, he was hitting a different spot making whimpers fly out of your mouth.

“ You’re gripping me so good baby.. You’re loving this so much.. listen to how that pussy is talking.. “

Each time he penetrated, your pussy squelched from your juices. You moaned out loudly as your orgasm finally broke through. Jordan sat up and pulled his dick out before leaning down to kiss your forehead.

“ You took that so good.. “

He says before getting off the bed and helping you off. You brought yourself down on your knees in front of him with your back facing the bed. He grabbed you by your chin making you look up at him.

“ That pretty face is gonna look even better with my dick stuffed in your mouth.. Get him wet. “

You grabbed him at the base of his dick and spit along his shaft before rubbing it in with your hands as you slowly jerked him off. He bit his bottom lip as he felt you stroke him good.

“ Good.. Put him in your mouth as far as you can and suck slow. “

You slid him in your mouth slowly leaving his mouth agape. He closed his eyes as he felt his dick slide along your wet tongue. He was so big that you could only fit him half of him in your mouth without gagging. You wrapped your lips around him and sucked slowly while using your hand to jerk him off simultaneously.

“ You’re doing so good baby.. You love the way that dick taste? “

He asked making you moan ‘Mhmm..’. He hissed and moaned at your good suction. He moves of your hand and holds the sides of your head making you look up at him.

“ I’ma put him in deeper. Breathe through nose and relax your throat “

He slowly slid in more of his member and you gagged a bit making saliva drip down your lips. He stopped and once you were breathing through your nose only, he slide himself in more while moaning.

“ Good girl.. That’s it.. “

He praised. Once he hit the back of your throat, he started to slowly thrust making your eyes water. After a few thrusts, he pulls out and leans down to kiss you.

“ You’re handling it with no problem. Come here. “

Jordan lays on the bed with his head on the pillow. You crawl beside him and lean across his pelvis before slipping him back into your mouth. He held the top of your head and begin thrusting. He would gradually thrust deeper and deeper until he reached into your throat. The wet noises your throat made as he fucked it filled up the room. For a second, you gagged releasing a rush of saliva down his shaft making him moan.

“ Fuck yeah.. Wet that dick up.. Oh I love this throat so much.. “

He moaned. You reached and started to massage his balls making him groan. This combination was heaven. He stopped his hips and held your down making his dick sit in your throat. His groans and moans made your pussy even wetter. You loved that you could make him sound like this. He released your head making you remove him from his mouth and coughed. As you were about to wipe the spit from your lips, Jordan stopped you and sat up making you turn towards him and engage in a sloppy tongue kiss. He sucked on your bottom lip before kissing you again while bringing you ontop of him.

As you straddled him, you reached under yourself and lined his dick up with your entrance and slid down on him. You moaned into his mouth and started to ride him slowly. He grabbed your ass and smacked it before gripping it. You pulled away from the kiss and started to ride him faster. He slides his hands down to your waist and sucks on your breast that was bouncing in his face.

“ Oh fuck.. you feel so good inside me.. “

You moaned making him release your nipple out of his mouth.

“ Before I nut, I need one more from you.. Understand? “

You nodded with your mouth starting to open as he started hitting your sweet spot again. He reached up and grabbed you by your neck as your orgasm slowly risen. Once he felt you clench around him, he looked up at you with a sly smirk.

“ Give me that shit.. “

You released a guttural moan as you came down on him. With the hold on your neck, He pulled you down to him and kissed you as a distraction. You moaned constantly while kissing back as the feeling from your orgasm went away. He wrapped his arms around your waist tightly before surprising you with hard thrusts into you making you pull away from the kiss.

“ Oh God! “

You screamed out in pleasure. You breathed heavily and whimpered as your tight pussy took on his hard pounding. Since you couldn’t get up and had no choice but to take it, you buried your head in his neck and moaned constantly while gripping the sheets.

Jordan was a moaning mess. The way he slid in and out of your tight pussy felt so good to him. He knew it would be impossible to pull out of your good pussy.

“ Fuck! Mmm I want to fill up this pussy.. Let me make a mess in that pussy.. “

“ Cum in me! “

You begged leading him to do one final thrust leaving him buried deeply inside you as his warm seed shot into you. Jordan moaned loudly as his strong nut took over him.

“ Fuck that feels so good.. So warm and thick.. “

You moaned describing his nut. You laid your head in his neck while you both caught your breaths. After a few minutes, he rolled you both over so he was now ontop and he stroked your cheek with his thumb.

“ That was amazing. You did so good princess. “ He says making you smile.

“ Thank you. I had a good teacher. “ You say making him laugh.

“ You right. Next time, I’ma see how well you can handle me when I’m in that ass.. “ He says making you gasp in shock before laughing.

PART 2?

TAG: @keyera-jackson @90sisthenew80s @novaniskye @elocinnicole @blowmymbackout @nashja @kokokonako @judymfmoody @arination99 @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @miyuhpapayuh @smokingangelhoe @skyesthebomb @nicolexnight @weirdosandhopelessromantics @softscorpio17 @theeblackmedusa @playgurlxoxo @keyglockwife @unfriendlyblkhotti3 @sweet2krazee @mellowjellow6 @xsweetdellzx @pandam8 @melaninpov @soufcakmistress @murrylove @ninacutebee16 @berlincasstuff @melaninangel @dxddykenn @crvzy-fujoshi

[passionxwrites]

Falling Apart Part 2 (MBJ x Famous Black OC)

Warnings: mentions of pregnancy loss

A/n: I'm really excited about this one. Enjoy!

The silence of Michael’s drive home was broken by the chimes of FaceTime. He immediately answered it as his mom’s name passed across the screen. 

“Hey ma, what’s up?” 

“Nothing. I just wanted to see how you and Charlie were doing?” 

Michael could not stop the humorless chuckle that escaped his lips. He was not sure how to tell his mother that they were doing terribly. It had been a week since their fight on set and all the couple knew was a coldness, tension everyone around them could feel and avoided like the plague. They usually had great communication but once one of them put their walls up, their perfectly running machine ground to a screeching halt. It was rare when it happened but when it did, it was bad. 

They only interacted on set when needed, the pair barely speaking unless it was to discuss work. Even right now, he had been driving around aimlessly, avoiding the icy winter that plagued his home. He knew he should not be avoiding Charlotte but until he had a better plan or she was willing to open up, he did not have the energy to be ignored for hours on end every single day. He now knew how she felt when he pushed her away last year, however, his reasoning was far less righteous. 

He tried to break the tension every once in a while, asking her how she was feeling and checking in when she seemed like she was in pain or upset. But his efforts only resulted in short one word answers. Occasionally, he could hear soft sobbing while she was in the shower or from the couch in the dead of the night. But when he tried to comfort her the first time, she just pretended he had misheard and refused to discuss it. From then on, he just gave her her space. He would just lay there and listen, fighting the urge to see about her. That was the hardest part. He was wholly unaccustomed to her rejecting him in that way. He loved being her soft place to land, her comfort and safety, her arms to retreat to when she was struggling. 

But she would not yield, refusing to show him any vulnerability or emotion. Vulnerability had always required minimal coaxing and prying from Charlotte but it had been so long since she shut him out to this degree, since she refused to let him help her. However, he knew only time and space would break down her walls. So as hard as it was, he gave her that, hoping time would ease her pain and soften her resolve.

“It’s… it’s not great. We’re both takin’ it hard.” 

“How are you?” 

He let out a low whistle and shook his head. He kept his eyes trained on the road, avoiding his mom’s expectant and loving eyes. He was a mama’s boy at heart, his mother always knew how to cut through the layers to get to the heart of whatever ailed him. And right now, he needed that.

The real answer, not ok, felt totally insufficient. Fatherhood had always been a dream of his, something he yearned for. Finding out Charlotte was pregnant had been one of the happiest moments of his life to date. In his mind, he saw their child and their future family as clear as a movie playing out in front of him. They had only known for a few short weeks but they had started to plan, wrapping up so much excitement and hope into that precious growing life. And in an instant, it was gone. No rhyme or reason, washed away as quickly and randomly as a sandcastle on the beach. And Michael had been fortunate not to experience a great deal of grief in his life but this pain felt unbearable. 

And those quiet moments when Charlotte was asleep were his only opportunities to mourn this person they never got to meet. When he was not quietly mourning, he could only feel concern and worry for his wife, who was not processing her own grief at all..  

“I dunno, ma. J-just worried about Els.” 

His mom shook her head. “I didn’t ask about Charlie. I’m a mother, I know how she’s doing. I asked how you are doing.” 

The back of his hand wiped a falling tear. “I don’t know… I’m mad, I’m disappointed, I’m sad. And I know we can try again but seeing how Els is doing… I dunno if I even want to. I don’t think I can watch her go through this again.”

The call fell silent for a moment, his mother mulling over his words on the other end of the call. Michael watched as cars whipped through the intersection he was stopped at as he waited for her to say something, to impart her usual maternal wisdom that he still sought out and desperately needed at his old age. 

“Have you two talked about any of it yet? Your feelings and hers?” 

“She doesn’t want to talk to me, ma. I’ve tried and I’ve tried but she just acts like I’m not even there. She’s just throwing herself into work like nothing happened. It feels like she’s angry with me or somethin’…” 

“She isn’t mad at you, Bakari… she’s mad at herself.”

“Why would you think that? She didn’t do anything wrong.” 

Donna shrugged, leaning back in the rocking chair Michael bought for their backyard. “Just a woman’s intuition. I just see a lot of myself in her. I remember when I first married your dad. I used to believe I didn’t deserve him so I tried to be perfect. The perfect mom and wife, felt like I could never mess up or fall down or be vulnerable. You kids were damn near out of the house before I let that go. When I first met Charlie, I saw the same thing in her. A woman madly in love with someone she did not feel she deserved.”

Michael sighed, his hand gripping the steering wheel in frustration. “I know she felt that when we first got together but it’s been 3 years, we’re married now. And been through too much for her to still believe that.”

“I know yall are basically an old married couple but three years isn’t a long time when stacked against decades of insecurity, Michael. She may not feel it all the time but doubts linger like weeds. You can pull ‘em up and they’ll be gone for a while but they’ll just grow back eventually. You’ve been working for most of your life and you still doubt yourself, right? It’s the same thing. And I imagine this only amplified those doubts for her. So it’s hard to be vulnerable or share her feelings with you when every voice in her head is shouting at her that she failed you. So she pushes you away because that’s less painful than going to you and you affirming those feelings.” 

Michael put the car in park as he pulled into his parking spot. 

“I would never. You know how much I love and adore her, ma. I-I know we had plans and everything but I’d give every last one up for her. She’s it… she’s everything. I can imagine life without kids but I can’t imagine one without her.” 

“I know. And Charlotte knows that too. Just give her time. Take it from me, this ironclad facade always shatters at some point. You just need to be there to help put the pieces back together when it does.” 

“Always.” 

“You’re a good boy,” she offered. “Always have been. And a good husband. She knows how much you love her. But the pain she feels is unbearable and that girl… she’s been through so much and her default seems to be to go at it alone. I think she is just struggling to work through that. Just give her time and space, like she did for you.”

He nodded. “I hear you, ma. Well, I just pulled up to the apartment so let me go inside and see about my girl. I’ll call you tomorrow, aight? Tell pops I said what’s up.” 

“Sounds good, love you.” 

“Love you too.” 

His head fell back onto the headrest as his mother’s words cycled through his head. He had thought her statement about being a failure was just a reaction in the heat of an argument. He could not believe she actually thought that to be true. He knew he should listen to his mother and give her space but he couldn’t let another evening go by like this. He could not do anything to end their grief, only time could do that. But he would not let her sit with feelings of failure and disappointment longer than she needed to. So he was resolved as he entered the house to get her to talk to him, to push if needed until she gave him something… anything. 

“Hey,” he offered as he walked into the house, Charlotte sitting on the couch with her notebook and script. 

“Hey.” Her eyes did not even leave her paper to truly acknowledge him. She just continued flipping through her script, scribbling in the margins. 

He threw his bag down by the entryway, his keys clanging lightly against the counter as he tossed them. He stood by the counter to study her for a moment, examining the pout on her face, the furrow in her brow, the redness and puffiness in her eyes. She had been crying. He scratched the back of his head for a moment before walking over to sit in the armchair by the couch. 

“You good with take out tonight?” He asked.

“Whatever you want,” she answered, still not fully acknowledging him or his presence. 

He watched her for a few moments before deciding to break the ice. “The perpetual winter around here is getting a bit hard to deal with, babe.” 

She sighed, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Michael.” 

He scoffed and shook his head. “You don’t know what I’m talkin’ bout? How about the fact that you don’t talk to me, you don’t touch me. You don’t let me touch you -” 

“Hmm… that sounds super familiar. Wonder where I’ve heard that before?” She muttered, cutting him off. The dig was below the belt and went against their usual rule of not bringing up past issues that they resolved in new arguments. However, the walls were too high for her to recognize that.

Michael’s eyes narrowed as he caught her statement. “Gonna ignore that cause you’re hurting but bringing up old shit doesn’t change what’s happening right now. You cry in the shower and out here at night and don’t let me comfort you. You act like I’m not even here. We can’t keep going like this. You need to talk to me.”

She tossed her notebook to the side in annoyance, her legs swinging off the couch. She slid them into her slippers and tried to disappear to their bedroom, her agitation only growing as she heard him follow behind her. She knew he would not stop, he had that look in his eye. Persistence. He would continue pushing until she broke down. And she was not ready to, not yet.  

“There’s nothing to talk about.” She grabbed the dry cleaning she had discarded on their bed earlier, hoping the act of hanging up their clothes would distract her and help her maintain this nonchalant facade. 

“We lost a baby, Charlotte. That isn’t nothing.” 

“You know, you don’t need to fucking remind me!” She snapped as she walked into their closet. “I was there. I was the one bleeding and in agony for fucking days because of it.” She let out a deep shaky sigh and turned away from him to calm herself. She knew her tone was reaching dangerous levels and was not how she and her husband spoke to each other. “So I’m well aware of what happened. But talking about it isn’t gonna change it o-or fix it so there’s n-no point. The doctor said we can try again as soon as I have my next cycle. And we will, I’ll get pregnant again and give you a baby. I-I j-just want to forget a-about it and try again. That’s it. End of discussion.” 

“I don’t wanna just try again like you’re a baby factory and pretend like this didn’t happen. It’s fuckin’ sad and it’s ok to be sad and wallow in it for a minute, to grieve something we both wanted and lost. And you pushing me away like this only makes it harder. Just talk to me, Charlotte. Please.” 

Her eyes clenched shut and her hands stilled, her task of putting away clothes short lived and futile. All the feelings she had desperately tried to suppress came flooding back. This time, they were stronger, louder, and harsher. She had found safety in the eye of this particular tornado, where the harsh winds and storm could not affect her. She knew she could not stay there forever and eventually, she would have to feel everything. But she was not ready yet. However, her husband’s pushing and meddling was not giving her much of an option. The winds and rain whipped against her and pulled her deeper and deeper into the depths of the storm and she just felt like she would get blown away if she gave in.

“W-what do you want me to say??” She let out an exasperated sigh. “Y-You want me to apologize a-again? I-I’m sorry! I’m s-sorry my body is failing you a-and failing us and I’m failing you a-and can’t give you t-this. I’m s-sorry,” she sniffled, shaking her head as she made her way to their bed to sit down. “A-and I'll probably feel s-sorry a-and guilty for putting you t-through this for the rest of my life or until I give you another baby. So that’s what I’m focused on. Now. can we p-please just leave it alone?” 

Her voice cracked as her head fell into her hands. She could not look him, she hadn’t looked him in the eye fully since the hospital. Every day since had been a fight, a fight not to acknowledge the true extent of this agony. Charlotte had felt a lot of pain in her life, but this particular one hit her soul differently. And any acknowledgement of that would make her pain real, her shame and guilt real. She had tried but she could not even accept Michael’s comfort and his care because doing so would be acknowledging she had failed him. Instead, she just wanted to be strong so she could fix it and undo what happened. There was no room to buckle or break, no room to wallow. 

Michael approached the bed and crouched down in front of her. His hands rested on the sides of her bare thighs, rubbing them lightly. This was the most he had touched her in a week, he had missed it. 

“Baby… I don’t need or want an apology and I don’t accept it. You have nothing to be sorry for. I just want you to be ok and to let me in. I know this shit is hard and it hurts like hell but whatever you’re feeling is safe with me. You’re safe with me, always. Fall and I’ll always catch you. Every single time.” 

His calloused hands wiped away a falling tear. She knew his words were true. If there was one thing Bakari had always been, it was constant and unwavering. Everything God and life threw at Charlotte, him, or their relationship, he stood like a tree, unmovable and sturdy. To this day, no storm, no matter its strength, had moved him an inch. He never failed in protecting her and holding her up, even when he was struggling himself. But that persistent voice of doubt in her head, that voice that still criticized whether she truly deserved someone so loving, was often louder than all the examples of his unwavering love for her. That voice made her believe this was finally the storm that moved him and took him away from her. 

“I can’t…” her voice was faint like a small child. He could tell she wanted to fall apart so badly but was holding the unraveling strings together with hope and prayer that he would leave her be. But he wouldn’t, not like this. 

“Yes, you can.” 

“No… I lost our b-baby,” her voice broke. “It’s a-all my fault. You were so e-excited a-and… I know y-you hate me. I hate myself. I can’t even look at you.” 

He could barely make out the last couple of words, her sobs making them incoherent. He understood enough though. 

“Els… honeybee, I could never hate you. This isn’t your fault. It’s not anyone’s fault. There’s no reason or cause and nothing we could’ve done differently.” 

Even as he spoke and offered words Charlotte had heard from the doctor himself, she did not believe him. “Y-You told me to slow down and I d-didn’t. Y-You told me to take m-more breaks a-and I didn’t. A-and I’m j-just t-terrified t-” she paused. “W-what if th-this means I c-can’t-” her voice broke as she tried to voice one of the fears that plagued her day in and day out. It was difficult to even put it to words. “T-this is supposed to be e-easy a-and natural and maybe t-this means I can’t do it? A-and then y-you’ll leave m-me a-and I w-wouldn’t even b-be able to blame y-you.”

He hung his head.“Look, maybe we could’ve done something different but maybe you could’ve done everything I asked and we would’ve still ended up here. There’s no way to know and… it doesn’t matter. It’s no one’s fault. You took the best care of yourself that you could, it just… God had other plans. And it’s ok to be sad about that but it’s not ok to torture yourself for something no one could control. And I don’t know how many ways I gotta tell you that you’re stuck with me, girl. I’m not going anywhere ever.” He shook her legs, causing her to let out a watery giggle. 

The back of her hand rubbed against her nose as she laughed, her eyes finally meeting his. 

“I j-just want to try again, Bakari. I j-just want to move on and try again so I-I can stop feeling l-like I f-fucked everything up. It just hurts so m-much… I w-was so excited. A-and I’m j-just scared I’m gonna lose you if I d-don’t fix it. A-and it’s j-just all too much a-and eating me alive.” 

He hated how lowly she felt of herself. Charlotte’s doubts and insecurities had waned over the years, thankfully. So much so, he had thought she had put all that to rest. But his mother was right, the doubt that his love was conditional and fickle still lingered, she just chose to live with it silently. 

He sat next to her on the bed, his fingers interlacing with hers.

“I want to be a dad, that’s true. Wanted that my whole life. But you know what I want more than anything else? You.” His finger lifted her chin so she was looking him in his eyes again. “You are my Sun, my universe doesn’t operate, revolve, or function without you. And as long as I got you, I have no doubts that we can figure out the rest. I would give up every plan for you in a heartbeat. You gotta know that by now. You can’t fail me and your body isn’t failing you. It’s just gonna take time and the good thing is, we got all the time in the world.” He kissed her on the cheek. “I’ll wait as long as it takes for you to be ready and healthy again. You don’t gotta pretend it didn’t happen or try to get pregnant tomorrow to keep me around. The only plan that’ll never change is that I’m gonna spend every day of my life loving you. It’s us till the end of the line, baby. You gotta start believing that though. I love you with everything I got and it kills me that you don’t see it,” he admitted. 

She nodded, letting out a deep sigh as if his words had lifted 10 pounds off her shoulders. “I know… you l-love me. Y-You’ve j-just always b-been so perfect… s-still hard to not feel like…” she scratched her head. “Sometimes I j-just worry I’m not enough f-for you. And w-when this happened, I j-just thought you’d finally r-realize it too. I’m s-sorry for that. And h-how awful I’ve been to you,” she whispered. “I g-guess I thought if I let you in a-and admitted I wasn’t ok, it’d make it all real a-and you’d just affirm everything I thought. I w-was wrong and I’m sorry.” 

He smiled. “That’s an apology I’ll gladly accept. And it's ok, I knew you were hurting.” 

She shook her head. “It’s not ok b-but I’m glad you c-can forgive me. I w-was so wrapped up in my own pain, I ignored yours. I know t-this has been painful for y-you too.” 

He pulled her into a hug, Charlotte soaking up the warmth she had denied herself for too long. 

“It is but we’ll get through it together. Like we always do.” 

The ice slowly but surely melted throughout the Jordan household as the evening progressed. Though it had been hard, she was thankful Michael pushed and prodded, thankful neither of them could be without the other for too long. 

By the time they laid down, Charlotte felt better than she had since the miscarriage emotionally. It had been such a relief to release those feelings into the space. Scary but Michael did what he always did, he affirmed and assured her. She also knew that, if they were going to take this next step, she had to start to believe she deserved this life and him. He proved time and time again that he was not going anywhere. She knew she needed to start believing that. 

Charlotte laid in his arms, silence filling their bedroom. However, neither of them were asleep, she just stared at the wall across from their bed and listened to the soft thumps of his heart, a soothing drumbeat in her ear. 

“I think you are gonna be a great dad,” she whispered, his grip tightening around her as if to pull her closer to him, if that were possible. “You’d know exactly how to comfort them and rock them to sleep. I… had a feeling it was a girl? Though I suppose that was wishful thinking a-and I know you shouldn’t have a preference. I would’ve been just as happy with a boy. But I dunno. Since I didn’t really have a mom, I think I’d love to do all the things I missed with her? I wrote a song for her and everything… I was gonna sing it to her when I held her at all the ungodly hours she would have us up. Because how could s-she not be a night owl with restless energy like us?”

“She definitely would… poor girl doesn’t stand a chance of a solid sleeping schedule with us.” They shared a laugh. “I pictured a boy,” he admitted. “But I’d also be happy with either, I think. I know, when we have one, our daughter will have me wrapped around her finger from before she’s born,” he kissed her on the top of her head. “Just like her mama. I won’t stand a chance.” 

She chuckled. “It’ll be your fault. Every woman in your life is spoiled. She’ll be no different.” 

Her fingernails traveled along his skin, raking up and down lightly as they laid. 

“This… it just feels relentless, Bakari,” she whispered. “I think about it all day and all night. I thought it would hurt less as time went on but it feels like I’ll never get past it.” 

“Take your time, love. We don’t gotta figure it out right now. We just take it day by day… with each other. And eventually, we’ll be ready to try again and we’ll do all the stuff we planned.” 

Charlotte pushed herself into a seated position to face him. “I know we need time but I do want to try again soon… if you’re up for it? And I-I’m not just saying that out of some misguided fear of losing you. Truly. I know it’ll take time to get there. But those three weeks when I was pregnant made me so happy. Knowing I w-was gonna be a mom and have your child made me so happy. I want that for us. A-and I think we are ready for it. Maybe when we wrap here and go home, we can talk about it then? See if we’re ready to try again?”

“You sure?” His hand cupped her cheek to hold her gaze to his.

“Yea… we’ve never been the couple to waste the time we have together. I don’t want to wait to start our family either.” 

He nodded, pulling her in for a soft kiss. “I love that plan.”

***

November 2018

Charlotte braced herself over the sink in the bathroom, her body feeling exhausted and faint. 

“Seriously??” she glanced at herself in the mirror, her eyes going down to her stomach. “You’re choosing right now for this?? Right now?” she argued with her stomach. She knew if anyone else saw her she would look like a lunatic but she did not care. “I can’t go through this with you right now. We got another two hours of press and then a press conference.” 

Charlotte hated press junket days and they were even harder this time around while she hid the biggest secret of her life from her husband and costar. She had done a good job thus far, passing off her symptoms as ones of exhaustion. Michael did not think to question it given their four-week international press tour for Creed II had been exhausting for both of them. London was their last stop before Michael and Charlotte jetted out for vacation to the Maldives for two weeks. It was a very late one-year anniversary gift from Michael but they had both been so busy, it was the only time they could make it work. However, her entire surprise hinged on making it to their private villa without Michael finding out. She wanted to tell him and wanted it to be special.  

She took a few deep breaths, unsurprised to hear Michael’s voice outside the bathroom. 

“You good, babe? We gotta get started in a few.” 

“Coming!” she offered, forcing her tone to remain bright and light. She prayed he was too distracted and exhausted himself to notice the inauthenticity in it. It was just two more days, she reminded herself. One last day of press, the premiere the next day and then they were on a series of flights to paradise. She straightened her shoulders, pushing the lightheadedness she felt away to walk outside. 

Michael still waited for her, kissing her on the cheek as she stepped outside. 

“You good?” he asked again as he took her hand. 

Charlotte was grateful, giving her a discreet way to lean some of her weight into his, each step felt like she was pushing through a fog. 

Michael helped her up into her chair for their next set of interviews. Though she knew she was low energy, she managed to get through them all. All two hours worth. She was proud of herself for pushing through it. However, when Michael went to help her out of her seat, her body loudly protested that it could not keep up her facade a second longer. 

“Whoa,” she muttered, gently falling back into her seat as a wave of dizziness hit her. She felt like someone had put the entire room on a rotating stage.  

“What’s wrong?” Michael asked immediately, his eyes frantically searching her body and face for an apparent injury. 

“N-Nothing, nothing. J-Just got lightheaded. J-just give me a sec.” 

Michael eyed her suspiciously. It was no secret his wife pushed her body to its physical limit, he had always known that about her. And though he had made her promise after New York that she would never hide illnesses or injuries from him again, he knew her default setting was to deal with things alone and not worry him. Immediately, his mind ran through the last few weeks. She had been more tired and exhausted, small complaints of not feeling well but pushed it off as exhaustion from the promo tour. But he had seen Charlotte through many a promo tour and she never seemed this exhausted before. 

“You sure? Seems like somethin’ else is wrong?” 

She huffed. She hated lying but she also refused to tell him here. She also was squarely using all of her energy and willpower not to pass out in front of him. 

“Yea, I’m s-sure. I’m fine. L-Let’s go.” She pushed herself out of her seat without his help, making it a few steps before she had to stop. 

She heard Michael speaking, felt his hand on the small of her back, but it sounded like his voice was a whisper in a long wind tunnel. She could not even form a response before everything faded to black and she collapsed. 

***

“The EMTs are coming, Mike, calm down.” 

“Fuck you mean calm down?? How the fuck am I supposed to calm down right now?” 

Their arguing came into sharper focus as Charlotte returned to consciousness. It was slow, each sense coming back to her one by one. She felt Michael’s touch and the hard floor beneath her first, his arms tightly cocooning her into his hard chest. Then his voice and Steven’s, though their words were delayed in settling into her brain. Then she opened her eyes, her vision blurry for a moment before clarity set in.

“M-Michael…” her voice was faint but it stole his attention away from angrily checking on the ETA of the EMTs every 30 seconds. 

“C-Charlotte!” He let out a strangled sigh of relief, the tone filled with fear, a sound she had only heard once before in their entire relationship. He sounded scared… something she was not used to. “You’re ok. You’re ok.” He kept repeating, sounding as if he was trying to convince himself more than her. 

“W-what happened?” She instinctively tried to sit up, Michael immediately tightening his grip around her to keep her against his chest. 

“Relax. You just fainted. You’re ok, just rest for a minute.” 

She glanced around to find half the room, the last journalist and their crew, and several cast members standing over her, concerned looks on all of their faces. Embarrassment spread quickly through her body like a wildfire.  

“I-I’m so s-sorry, yall. I j-just need a minute a-and I’ll be ready for the press conference.” 

You would have thought she sprung several heads or turned into a mutant the way everyone’s eyes bugged out of her head. 

“Fuck no, you’re going back to the hotel, Charlotte,” Michael immediately pipped up, his tone leaving little room for debate or conversation from anyone. 

“W-what?? N-” she started to say but he immediately cut her off. 

“You go to the hotel or you go to the hospital. Your choice.” She knew he meant it, there was no way to get around his instructions this time.  

She rolled her eyes, “Pretty shitty choices,” she muttered under her breath. “Fine. Hotel… I-I’m really sorry, y’all.” 

Everyone, of course, assured her she had no reason to apologize and left her and Michael alone. She tapped his arm, letting him know she was ready to get up. While her body could’ve allowed her to lay there for hours, the bed in their hotel would be far more comfortable. She felt bad as she watched him pack up her stuff and put her in the car, his entire body filled with tension and fear. Michael had them push back the start of the press conference so he could ensure she got into their car and refused to start the press conference until she called him to tell him she made it into their room safely.

She rested for a while once she got back to their suite but then pulled the gift she hid amongst her stuff out of her bag. It had been hard to sneak it around but she managed. Though she had a grand plan for telling him, she could tell her fainting earlier scared him. And she did not want him worrying about whether something was truly wrong when she knew what was going on. And she knew he would not accept “everything’s fine,” anymore. 

She laid on the couch, tucked under the comforter from the bed as she watched tv, waiting for him to get back. She was half asleep again when she heard their door open. 

“Hey baby,” she whispered, rubbing her eyes as she went to get up. 

“No, no, don’t get up. How are you feeling?” he asked, his hand cradling her head as he examined her. 

“I’m ok… promise.” She knew he did not believe her, could tell her words did nothing to ease the concern in his eyes, the fear she felt in every cautious touch. 

“Did you faint anymore or feel sick?” 

She shook her head. “Just a bit dizzy but it’s better since I came home.” 

He nodded, his hand anxiously gripping the meat of her thigh.

“I-I’m gonna go look up doctors for you, aight? Wanna get you checked out before we go on vacation…” 

Charlotte merely nodded, deciding not to fight him on it and just tell him the truth. There goes my grand plans and surprises, she huffed to herself. 

“Ummm can you run into the room and grab the box off the bed for me, please?” 

Michael seemed almost reluctant to allow her out of his sight but he jogged across their suite and into their room and back, this time the gift box tucked under his arm.

“Who’s this for?” 

“Open it." At his raised eyebrow, she smiled, “You aren’t the only one with tricks and surprises up your sleeve.” 

She watched with bated breath as he opened the box.

“What’s this?” 

His face scrunched up in confusion at the black baby onesie in front of him. It was folded neatly, only the very top visible. It had a gold trim around the neck making it a baby-size exact replica of Michael’s costume in the movie. 

“What does it look like?” 

“I mean it’s a baby onesie but it kinda looks like the Golden Jaguar habit from the movie,” he muttered. “But who’s it for?”

Charlotte rolled her eyes and laughed, shocked that he hadn’t caught on yet. Her sweet husband… so good at giving surprises but couldn’t spot one a mile away for himself. 

“Why don’t you unfold it and see?” 

His hands grabbed the fabric, laying it out on the coffee table, the legs of the onesie dangling off the edge. His eyes grew wide as he took in the words. 

My dad’s favorite partner in crime 

She turned to him, unsure of what his silence meant. “I found out a couple weeks ago. I know… after New York we said no more secrets and no more hiding important information,” she rushed out. “But I’m hoping you can forgive me in this case? I wanted to tell you in a special way a-and had to get it made. It’s crazy how much Black Panther merch there is and there is no market for parents dressing their babies up like the most handsome homicidal assassin I’ve ever seen? Super annoying a-and it was a whole thing with the custom shop and I had to work with Ryan to get an accurate picture of the suit and I was g-gonna surprise you on our vacation with this whole elaborate thing but you were so worried, I-”

Her words were cut short as Michael grabbed her and crashed his lips against hers, her voice dying off. She chuckled against his lips as he kissed her deeply, her arms wrapping around his neck. 

“Y-you’re serious, Els?” His eyes bored into hers as they filled with tears. 

She nodded, her eyes glossing over as well. During filming, the pair went to couple’s counseling, processing their grief together and separately so they could be emotionally ready to try again. During the summer, they decided to officially start that journey and it only took a few months for her to start to feel the early signs of pregnancy. An incognito trip to her doctor in during the first week of November before the start of the promo tour confirmed her suspicions. 

“8 weeks.” 

He wrapped her in a tight hug, his face buried into her neck. His joy was more subdued than the last time they shared this moment. But she understood, so was hers. Their miscarriage had unlocked a fear they would not have even considered having. And now, it was too real, too scary. And it took everything in her not to let the stress get to her since she found out. Her doctor told her she only had a few weeks to go before they would be in the clear. And she just held onto that. Every day was one step closer to their family and that was enough to outweigh how terrified she felt. 

“I love you so much. How do you feel? I-Is t-there is a chance of another…” 

Charlotte’s heart sagged a bit as she nodded, she could tell his did too. There was no point in lying to him but also she wanted to assure him.  

“My doctor said there’s always a chance but she doesn’t think there’s any reason we shouldn’t carry to term this time. I’ve been trying to take it easy the last few weeks a-and the fainting thing is my blood pressure apparently. I texted my OB… she gave me some tips on how to help with that. But she said it’s a normal symptom. But I’m feeling ok physically and emotionally, I’m scared,” she admitted. “But whatever happens,” she pulled him in closer to her.  “I know I have the best husband around to help me through it.” 

“Well I don’t want you stressing about it either, Els. That ain’t good for you or the baby.” His hand rested on her stomach as he looked down at her. 

“Ok, I’ll only stress 50% of the time, promise.” She acquiesced, causing him to roll his eyes. “You ok? I’m sorry about earlier. I scared you, didn’t I?” 

He blew out a low breath. “Yea, you did. F-Fucking terrified me. Seen you too many times unconscious and injured for my liking, baby.” His hand pushed the loose curls out of her face. “I need you alive and well… and honest when you’re not well.” 

She understood. “I’m sorry. Does my half-surprise sort of make up for it, at least?”

He nodded. “This is the best surprise of my life.” He wrapped her in a hug that was so tight, he lifted her out of her spot and into his lap. Charlotte immediately took to her favorite spot, straddling his legs, his hands going to rub her bare thighs. “So yes… but I got a few other ways you can make it up to me later tonight,” he whispered. 

“Mmm, you know I live to please you,” she whispered seductively in his ear. However, before they went too far down that path, she paused, her face and tone taking on a more serious one. “You’re happy, though?” She asked quietly, her fingers playing in his beard as she held his face in her hands. 

“Ecstatic. I have a good feeling about this, baby.” 

She nodded, “Me too.” They shared a sweet kiss before he lifted her off of him and wrapped her back in the blanket so she could continue to rest. “What about all the ways I gotta make it up to you?” she moaned playfully. 

“Get some rest, I’ll order you room service. So after dinner, you’re well rested so I can fuck you how I wanna without you passing out on me. You got makin’ up and celebratin’ to do, ma… gonna be a long night.” He kissed her on the forehead before sitting back on the couch, placing her feet on his lap. 

She glanced over at him and smiled as he picked up the onesie and continued to stare at it. She watched him for a few minutes as he snapped a quick picture of it before wiping a falling tear. She turned her eyes back to the tv, a grin painted on her face. It had not gone exactly how she wanted but the look on her husband’s face made it all worth it. 

Michael watched Charlotte for the rest of the night, his eyes trained on her stomach and the life he knew was growing there. He knew their lives were about to change forever but he could only thank God for giving them another chance to grow their family. And in his soul, he knew this was their moment. 

Tag List: @certifiedlesbianbaddie @bangtanxmegan @reelwriter19 @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @hi888888sworld @msniaimani @destinio1 @lynaye1993 @chaoticevilbakugo @blackerthings @pipsqueak-98 @miyuhpapayuh @passionxwrites @gopaperless @roguekiki @tythaitie

***

A/N: Thanks for reading! So this was originally supposed to be two parts only but now it's three lol and part three will follow her actual pregnancy and birth and all that good stuff! And we'll get to see MBJ being a dotting, overprotective hubby to a very pregnant Charlotte. SO excited for that lol Drop a comment and let me know what you think!

[passionxwrites]

Best thing 3 has peen posted!!

[passionxwrites]

Best Thing (3)

"That crazy bitch back outside of your fine ass neighbor door."

Noli looked up as her best friend Drita let herself into Noli's apartment using the key she had been given for emergencies, once again. Drita was one of the first friends Noli made once she moved to California and they had been attached at the hip since. They met at a gas station due to some weird ass man harassing Noli because he could tell she wasn't from around the area and Drita quickly swooped in and scared his ass off. Her exact words were, "I'm here for every black queen I see in distress."

Drita stood at 5'11 and was every bit of the stallion that she loved to call herself. She had curves that would make a grown man cry and she flaunted them well. Her skin was a dark shade of brown reminiscent to the beautiful Kelly Rowland and she always kept her hair (thanks to Noli), lashes, and nails done.

They immediately clicked and Drita ended up helping Noli get a job as a bottle girl at Diamond Dazzlers since she already worked there as a dancer. Drita was also Noli's first Cali client and had pretty much moved up to being her brand ambassador after basically being her walking billboard.

"Damn again, this her third time this week," Noli spoke shaking her head as she gave Drita a hug before walking into her bedroom.

"Girrll that nigga got something serious between his legs if she out there acting a fool like that. You need to be trying to get a piece cause we both know that man is feeling you."

Noli rolled her eyes because here Drita was talking about this so called crush she felt Erik had on Noli for the umpteenth time. Every time Erik came around and they were together Drita had to throw in her ten cents about how Noli needed to let that man "wreck her shit," as she so eloquently liked to put it.

"Say that shit again and I ain't going to this stupid ass party with you no more," Noli snarled as she peeped her head from her walk in closet to see Drita splayed across her bed like she owned the damn place. Drita swiftly lifted her middle finger and went back to scrolling on Tik Tok deciding not to pay her aggressive friend any mind.

"Girl whatever, ole country ass."

Noli chuckled and shook her head as she flipped through her clothes trying to find an outfit for this party Drita begged her to go to. Apparently one of the "niggas with all the money," from the club was throwing some big ass mansion party and wanted "all of the bad bitches," in attendance. After finally flipping and yanking clothes she deemed ugly off of her hangers she settled on a pair of black leather shorts, a black bralette, and an orange and black biker jacket. She quickly flung her clothes on the bed and pointed Drita to her "beauty sanctuary," which was really just a guest room that she turned into a mini beauty salon until she finally saved enough money to open a real one.

"Alright sista, what look we going for today," she asked while fluffing out Drita's wild blown out hair.

"Just give me a cute lil low knot bun for right now, I'll be back Saturday once my damn wig finally get delivered. Girl, do you know it was supposed to be here yesterday and yet I haven't seen UPS yet!"

"They like to take they sweet ass time but that’s fine, I can squeeze you in Saturday before I do Melissa's hair for her birthday photoshoot."

"Melissa extra ass does a birthday shoot every year. This not even a milestone year for her," Drita exclaimed while rolling her eyes in annoyance and continuing to aggressively click away on her phone.

Noli just shook her head at her best friends antics because although Melissa was indeed being extra, the two girls did not get along. Melissa, also known as Montana at the club, was a 23 going on 24 year old that had been working at Diamond Dazzlers since she was 18. The beef between her and Drita quickly began after Drita caught Melissa giving her boyfriend at the time a dance in the private room. They had been at odds ever since. She remembered Drita angrily stomping up to the bar yelling about how she knew Melissa was fucking her man.

"Well she's paying me to not only do her hair but also an extra $300 to go to the photoshoot and keep her touched up during the process."

"Good! Bleed that bitch dry," she said as she sat there with her nostrils flared and face turned up in anger.

~~~~~ The pair had only been at the mansion party for a solid 5 minutes and Noli was already getting agitated.

I should have stayed my ass at home.

"Girl fix your damn face and lighten up. Looking like somebody gave you something sour to eat." Noli turned her head in Drita's direction while deepening the frown on her face.

"You know I hate parties and I only came cause I didn’t want you to come alone but if one more nigga walk up and grab my arm like he know me, I'm gone defend myself!"

Drita could only laugh because she knew the type of person her girl was. Noli only went out if she was going to work or Drita was dragging her out of the house to some party. Noli was the true definition of a home body and spent the majority of her time cooped up in that apartment or walking around target like she was crazy. It was so bad some of the employees knew her by name.

"Cry me a damn river Magnolia-"

"Bitch I know you didn't just call me that!"

Noli hated her government name with her entire soul. She had never heard of anyone else with the name of Magnolia besides the damn flower and could not understand for the life of her why her parents felt the need to name her as such. She remembered asking her grandmother why her name was Magnolia Mae Jenkins and her grandmother simply stated they named her that because she was their flower. Her brother however, in his asshole teenage years, liked to tease her by saying they named her that because she would never get out of Mississippi.

"My bad, it slipped but come on lets go to the bar and take a couple of shots. You need to loosen the hell up."

Drita quickly snatched Noli by the arm and led her across the spacious dance floor to the open bar and ordered 4 shots of Don Julio.

"2 for me and 2 for you sista." Noli grimaced but downed the two shots anyway figuring Drita wasn’t going to let her off the hook with this party so she might as well force herself to have some fun.

Baby this some Fenty I don’t do no Vicky Secrets Please don’t take no pictures of me bae Its giving sneaky We can't make no flick You gone get mad at try to leak it This pussy like a perk Give him some He started geeking

The girls instantly looked at each other and squealed immediately getting hype as their favorite Ken The Man song began blaring from the speakers of the DJ. Noli grabbed her girl's hand and made haste getting to the dance floor to show her ass which she rarely did in public but this was a special case. Noli was so into having fun shaking her ass that she didn't bother to move once she felt someone move behind her to catch everything she was giving. As the song began to end she finally leaned back up after being bent over showing out for so long and her back made contact with a quite muscular chest.

His cologne smells familiar.

"I didn't know Ms. Noli the home body had all this in her," the voice whispered huskily into her and Noli quickly snapped her body around to face the man that had been lucky enough to catch what her mama had gave her.

"Erik, what are you doing here," she questioned in astonishment at the fact that he was the man that was all up on her and also at the fact that she could feel he was indeed working with something serious between his legs like Drita had assumed earlier.

No wonder that girl is stalking him. Hell, I would too.

"Well for one thing this is a free country but also my homeboy is the one throwing the party," he smirked at her face which probably still held and ample amount of shock. That smug attitude of his was like a bucket of cold water and she quickly rolled her eyes before turning to walk away.

"What the fuck ever Stevens," she muttered as she began taking steps to go find Drita who had conveniently disappeared once Erik got behind her. However, she didn’t make it far before she felt him wrap his arm around her abdomen and pull her into his embrace.

"I'm actually done playing these cat and mouse games with you," he spoke into her ear as she stood halfway frozen at his very close proximity.

"I haven't been playing any games with you," she claimed as she pulled herself away and faced him.

"Yes you have. You've been playing them since you moved into that apartment across the hall three years ago and I played the long game with you but damn you are stubborn. Admit you like me Noli."

Noli stood completely still in her spot as a million thoughts ran through her mind on where all of this could even be coming from. Liking Erik? That was just crazy talk, nonsense! Or was it? She always thought he was cute from the first day she met him but he was a nonchalant asshole and she vowed to leave those type of men in Jackson after she boarded her flight. Then her mind went back to all the times Drita claimed he had a crush on her and she internally cringed.

Drita just cannot be fucking right. I'll never hear the end of it!

"I- I gotta go find my friend," she quickly muttered while turning on her heels damn near running away before he could pull her back into another confusing haze of emotions.

Erik only smirked once again while shaking his head knowing this was going to be hard but he was definitely up for the ride.

~~~~~ Okayyyy, so sorry for taking so long to update! Life has been lifing but I finally got it out. I definitely tried to make this part longer than the previous two. I hope y'all enjoy!

#Erik Stevens #Erik Killmonger #erik killmonger fanfiction #black panther fanfiction #killmonger imagine #killmonger fanfiction

[passionxwrites]

[passionxwrites]

[passionxwrites]

Update coming soon!! ✨