#domesticated; Unqiue raising Kanan | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

theesirenteller · 5 months

Text

Domesticated | Unqiue

🅳🅴🆂🅲🆁🅸🅿🆃🅸🅾🅽

After the passing of his child's mother, Kadeem Mathis better known in the streets as 'Unique or Nique'; has taken on the role of being a full-time parent. Which causes more difficulties rather than smooth sailing, A full time caregiver for his son and new home in Astoria, Queens is needed. What starts off as simply business quickly turns personal when the tender love & care of a woman warms his once hollow heart.]

RATING: 𝙈𝘼𝙏𝙐𝙍𝙀

DEATH had become a normal reoccurrence in Kadeem's day to day life. Oftentimes it was business more than personal. But on December 30th,1992 Kadeem's babymama, Tori was murdered. Their son Jerome was found on the snowy cold floor beside her carved up body. She'd been stabbed over twenty times and left behind the Carvel ice cream store she had previously been in. Kadeem remembered when Tori's mother called him from the hospital. Getting that type of need caused him to abruptly leave his meeting with Raquel and show up with a rapidly beating heart. His henchmen followed behind him with ansty hands that were trigger-finger ready.

Despite not being in love with Tori, he still had a great amount of love and respect for her purely for gifting him Jerome. No child deserved to be motherless and Jerome wasn't even a year old. He never got to properly meet her, know her. He was freshly four months old. Four months old and in the hospital fighting an Pneumonia. Tears glazed his eyes as he watched his son from the incubator. As soon as his mother,Sheronda, arrived at the hospital, he felt secure enough to leave and handle Tori's murderers. And nothing surprised him more than to find out she'd been killed because of her own actions and not because of him. Kadeem learned that Tori had punched out a pregnant woman. A woman whose man she was messing with. Unfortunately for Tori, that girl had a sister from Brooklyn who ran her own gang. Nothing major, just ten girls. But those bitches were ruthless. Stone cold and colder than some men from what Worrell found out. The sadness Kadeem felt for Tori was replaced with anger.

Her hoe-antics got her killed, got her taken away from their innocent child and nearly got him killed in the process of it. Despite his anger, he still avenged her. For Jerome. It had taken less than an hour to locate them. And it took nearly two to off each and every one of them. Each woman and their innocent bystanders had gotten a face full of bullets. It was Christmas and Kadeem was feeling generous. So the man that Tori was fooling with had gotten gunned down too. He thought of taking the man's wife's life but didn't. He left her alone. She'd been in her daughter's room, hugging her child close and he just passed her by. Her child looked a few months older than Jerome. The child shared his same complexion and despite showing no expression on his face, he felt heartbroken. After that, Kareem disassociates from his emotions and thoughts as he leaves the home. All of the events that transpired, all the lives that were lost…felt unnecessary. Unnecessary tragedies.

It'd been a month since then and being thrown into the world of being a single father to a newborn had turned Kareem's life upside down. He could manage the streets of Jamaica, Queens no problem. He was a natural born leader who had an immense amount of respect in the streets. But little Jerome had him feeling like a puppy with its tail tucked between his legs. He needed around the clock care, comfort, and affection. All that Kareem provided without fuss. It was the anxiety that kept him up at night. Anxious at the mere thought of Jerome being in harm's way. Anxious that he could kiss his son good morning and the next he could be kissing his cold dead body before a funeral. Dark thoughts plagued Kareem's mind and all he kept repeating to himself was ‘’tighten up”.

When he left Jerome with his granny, Kareem went nose deep into reconstructing his life. More private, less reckless. He sold his apartment and replaced it with a two story single-family in a nicer part of Queens, Astoria.

He made sure to collect his neighbors personal information from a tech-geek at NYU. Nothing but elderly Indians, Koreans, and a few Africans lived within his block. Mainly all retired or doctors, and some even bodega owners. He had their ss information, background checks, and even family lists with photos attached. Just in case. This was a green zone, a safer spot for Jerome. And he needed to know who moved in or out of it. Make sure nobody like him or who he dealt with had any type of reason for being in this area. On this block. He had his mother decorate the whole place and she approved of the home. She even stayed in it to care for Jerome for a few weeks.

“Kadeem, you gonna need to get a housekeeper and a babysitter, boy. I ain't sign up to be either. I'm cool with watching my baby on the weekends but I ain't raising him Hell, maybe get a in house bitch, a homebody who's eager to play step-mama. I don't know but do something.” Sheronda, his mother announced over Sunday dinner.

Kadeem stopped chewing on his Mac and cheese noodles as he proceeded what she said,” Ma, you don't think it's a lil' too early for this?” His velvety voice silked through the warm dining room. “Jerome don't need no step-mama or no strangers. He got you and he got me, that's all he needs right now. His peoples.”

His mother shook her head in disapproval, “Better sooner rather than later. All that love and affection from use comes second. That baby needs around the clock care and so does this home you bought. Just how you know love don't pay the bills, it don't keep things in line either.” She rebuttals. And her words stuck with him for the next few days despite him not giving her an answer.

His days blended together over the course of the following weeks. And he was thankful that his mother continued to care for Jerome. He had sent a list of cleaning agencies and child caregiver agencies the week before he and Raq had their meeting with Sal Boseill & his gang. Sheronda had gotten started on skimming through agencies. The sixty-five year old was tired and irritated from talking to various managers and coordinators. A lot of them had nasty attitudes and Sheronda damn sure wasn't going to have some lazy, slick-mouth maid up in her son's and grandson's home.

She soon came across the thirty-ninth agency's pamphlet, Lá Casá De La Paz (The house of peace) and what sparked her interest was the dual-care services. They had full time aides who did house sitting and personal care elderly and disabled children. They also had home cleaning services solely. Sheronda hoped that she could finesse the personal care service provider into finding some to care for a newborn who wasn't disabled. Finding a nanny on top of a house cleaned just felt like so much work. And Sheronda's patience was wearing thin.

“Hola, Bienvenida a la casa de la paz, habla María, ¿en qué puedo ayudarle?” The woman on the other side of the phone line greeted Sheronda with a heavy spanish-accent.

“Um, I'm sorry I don't speak Spanish. Do you have anyone that speaks English, Maria?” Sheronda replied.

“Yes, Un minuto por favor.” The woman said before a beeping sound was heard and another voice answered, “Hello, this is Jasmine speaking, how may I help you.”

“Hey Jasmine, my name is Sheronda and I am interested in your dual-care services. I need both personal care and house cleaning services. But, not for me. For my son and grandson…” She then went on to explain her family's situation. And by the end of their two-hour long phone call, a payment plan and a list of caregivers for interviews were listed and scheduled to meet with Kareem. Things were more costly for the family than the average client due to their unique situation. No one needed to get approved by insurance. It was all independent contracting which meant cold cash and a notary contract had been set in place.

Michel'le sat in the bedroom-sized break room of Lá Casá De La Paz eating her lunch after coming to base after a long shift. She ate her plantains, rice and beans quietly in a corner seat, facing the wall. She drowned out the chair-chatter of the middle-aged caregivers who gossiped amongst themselves in Spanish with her headphones. Her cd sat in her waist belt around her waist as Brenda Lee's passion-filled song Emotions played. Her short-chubby legs spun back and forth underneath the chair as she quietly hummed along. A hand roughly rubbing against her shoulder caused her wide-eyed daydreaming gaze to break and her head to snap back. Galinda, one of her coworker’s lips moved and her head nodded to the door. Michel'le could feel the dampness of Gaildna's sweaty hand sink into the cotton fabric of her turtleneck. Michel'le quickly shoved the woman's hand off her and got up from her seat. The metal chair screeched loudly against the cool floor tiles as she rose and rushed out the room.

The music stopped and her earphones now sat loosely around her neck as she made her way to the coordinator's office. More work was exactly what she expected. Michel'le was the youngest in the staff so the patients that the other women refused or didn't show up for; Michel'le stepped in for. A bonus was that despite being an immigrant from Puerto Rico, she knew English fluently while the majority of the staff didn't care to learn. She was currently twenty-four years old despite looking fifteen in the face. Her body, her full figure of large teardrop-shaped breasts, chubby arms, plum oval-shaped thighs, and a large low-hung round fatty-rear that looked as if it should've belonged to a milf with some kids and more than a few sexual encounters under her belt should've had; was what made her look her age if not an age range close to it.

She strolled into Jasmine's office to see the umber-brown Dominican coordinator seated behind her chalky-white desk as usual, dressed in gray and black scrubs.

“Michel'le, Hey, have a seat.” Jasmine greeted as her dark brown eyes settled on the timid-standing young woman at the door.

Michel'le did quietly as told and folded her hands tightly together in her lap as she awaited to hear what she was here for.

“I've got a better position for you. Something long term. Uh-how do you say…longer contract. Off the books for the most part.” Jasmine started off before further explaining,”There's a family located in Queens, The Astoria area so it's a pretty good spot. The pay is very good, a thousand for you a week plus room & board. They want someone to be an in house nanny. Take care of an infant who's around five or six months old, clean the house, make three meals a day. I suggested you for the job along with Sonya, Eva, and Carmella. They have another agency with four other women coming.” Jasmine read over the details before looking directly at Michel'le and sighed.

“Honestly? Nena I want better for you. You're like a daughter to me and cleaning up shit, blood, and whatever else isn't what your life should be. You're a quiet girl, Un Nena Muy Buena (a very good girl) and esoy brujas (old hags) take advantage of that. This could be a start to better employment. Change isn't always bad.” Jasmine was the only one Michel'le shared more than two words with and held eye contact with. Jasmine knew the girl was very timid and a bit of a scardy cat, easily shaken up. And she wanted better for her.

Michel'le dug her tooth into the side of the gums of her lower lip as her nails dug into her palm. Small beads of sweat began to pebble underneath her arms and underneath her breasts. Change? She avoided that like the plague. But, this didn't sound bad. And it appeared that she'd be alone most of the time or in the company of the infant. ‘An infant. A small human.’ she thought to herself mentally. She'd never been around children before, let alone a baby. She didn't have much knowledge about them outside of a few antonym and childcare books she'd read at one of her client's homes.

“I don't know how to care for a child, Jasmine.” She finally spoke up. Spoken an octave above a whisper. Her voice sounded similar to her namesake, the r&b singer Michel'le. Not exactly but similar with its child-like quality, only Michel'le Ramirez was more airy. Her words left her mouth sounding like harmonious ad-libs.She spoke as though she never raised her voice in her life. And she hadn't. Ever.

“You’vee taken care of bed-ridden 80 and 90 year olds. Babies are much easier than that and they don't have slick mouths.” Jasmine dismissed, “You've got this.” She reassured her with a smile.

Saturday, January 28th came quicker than Michel'le expected. Jasmine has given her an address and interview time weeks prior. Morty's Dinner, located in the Hillside area of Jamaica, Queens was where the interviews were being conducted and 10 a.m. was her specific interview time. Michel’le arrived an hour earlier to the area due to wanting to avoid the unpredictable timing of the city's trains. Michel'le lingered around the park nearby for a bit. She was familiar with the area. She'd been to every borough because of her job. The weather was cold. A dry cold that would sting one's bones and redden their noses. She wore a white thermal turtleneck with an ankle-length indigo-blue denim dress, with her thermal long-sleeved long johns underneath. Wool socks covered her feet with four-trimmed rubber black anti-slip boots on her feet. An ankle-length Heather gray wool-trench coat covered her short frame like a blanket along with a crochet beanie that covered her head.

Her wide-eyed gaze swept across the cooped up street corners that were filled with various dope dealers and their clientele. She walked quickly to not bring an ounce of attention to herself. It was a five minute walk to the mom&pop diner she was sent to. Arriving inside the warm, breakfast food scented restaurant at exactly 9:58. She looked around for a man who fit the description of her portfolio. Mr.Mavis was described as a twenty-eight year old dark-skinned black male who would be seated at the last table on the third row. She didn't get a chance to get a full look around because she was harshly bumped into by none other than one of her co-workers, Sonya.

“Cabrón” (bastard) Sonya cussed under her breath as she bypassed Michel'le.

Michel'le squeezed at the leather strap of her purse and glared in Sonya's direction before shifting her eyes to the direction that the co-worker had come from. There he sat. And he wasn't anything that she expected. He was far more. The man across the way had the most vibrant shade of rich-sienna brown skin that looked like fine bourbon-colored mulberry silk. His luxurious attire of a gray colored animal-fur coat and black turtleneck hugged his neck perfectly made him look-like royalty. Sure, his clothes screamed money. But he sat in them with a certain type of class that made him look effortless. He wore the clothes, they didn't wear him. Even the gaunty large gold chain around his neck didn't appear tacky.

Kadeem felt someone staring at him. He felt the gaze from across the room and his eyes settled on, what to him looked like a little girl. She was very short. No more than than five feet tall and that long ass coat she had on was swallowing her up. She made her way towards his direction as his henchmen sat at the booth in front of him. Kadeem and Michel'le stared directly into each other's eyes. But both of them had different gazes. She looked startled and memeriezed while he looked curious.

“Oh hell naw, these niggas runnin' sweat shops too? Send'n youngin's n shit?” One of his men commented a little too loudly as Michel'le approached Kadeem.

She was confident he was the leader, the employer. His presence gave off this type ’je ne sais quoi’ that demanded respect and reciprocated it. His head was held high. Up close his chiseled, almost-angelic Nubian features made the back of neck grow sweaty and her palms grow clammy. His beauty was merely intimidating. “Excuse me, are you Mr Marvis?” Her squeaky tone convinced Kadeem that she indeed was a kid.

Kadeem looked her over before slowly nodding his head, “Sup, babygirl. What can I do for you?” Geez, His voice was as smooth as melted butter glazing toast. It had a subtle rasp to it but held a deep octave that sang off his lips like a Barry white song, “Call me Nique by the way,” he corrected.

“Mr.Nique…” his name sounded sweet like honey coming from her lips, “I'm Michel'le Ramirez, The agency; Lá Casá De La Paz sent me. 10:00 a.m. sharp.” Her words started off shaky but grew more firm towards the end of her informal sentence. Her accent was thicker with some words rather than others.

“Right…right. Have a seat, let Worrell get your coat,” Kadeem nudged his chin up and as if on cue, a light-skinned male in an oversized brown bomber with a low Afro had stood up and extended his arms out to take her coat.

“Oh…um…thank you.” She muttered out quickly as she briefly made eye-contact with the man as she removed her coat.

A dog was a dog and a man was a man. Nique's men and himself included had drank in her body with their eyes. Lustful looks passed across their eyes unt she sat down. Kadeem had taken notice of how Michel'le dug her fingernails into the palm of her hand. So tight that her knuckles turned white. He then sent a sharp look forward that caused his four henchmen to turn around in their seats and face forward, “Why don't y'all niggas go take a walk or sum; go get air sum air.” It didn't sound like a suggestion to Michel'le. And given the fact that they all got up and began making their way outside let her know that it wasn't.

Michel'le proceeded to remove her crochet beanie hat. Her naturally curly hair was wavy today, her short choppy bangs sat a few inches above her eyebrows. Her hair fell to the top of her shoulders Now. It was Kadeem's turn to view her through the lense she viewed him in. Kadeem was met with raw beauty. Now that he could fully see her without the coat and hat covering her up, he got a chance to see the full picture. She clearly was no kid. Maybe seventeen if he was guessing her being younger than what the profilio he has yet to read would say. And if she was that young, well he had no reason to employ her. He admired her heart-shaped outward pouty lips, taking notice of how much fuller her bottom lip was versus her top lip. He also likes her flawless ochre-brown skin, the center of the cheeks of her babyish face were a shade of coral that reminded of peaches. Most of all, he loved her big, brown eyes. He had watched Bambi a few times with Jerome and oddly enough, Michel'le reminded him of faline. Her eye shape and her gaze. She was beautiful besides her janky ass bangs and denim dress that was too long in his opinion.

“Would you like some breakfast? Get whateva you want, on me.” He offered with a heavy NYC accent and reassurance that didn't have to worry about the bill.

“Oh…um sure, thanks.” The coral tint on her cheeks deepened as she pushed her hair behind her ears, “Are you gonna get anything? It…um…might be awkward for me to just sit and eat in your face.”

She made him crack a chuckle. A chuckle that sounded like the melodical roar of the engine of a mustang. Deep and smooth. The vibrations of his chuckle bounced off her skin and left goosebumps behind, “I can eat.” He agreed.

Michel'le’s shoulders dropped in relief and she nodded her head, “Cool, thank you.” She then proceeded to open the plastic menu book and skim through it. Kadeem found her awkwardness cute. Different from the woman he dealt with daily or came across.

The waitress had come over to their table and both ordered the breakfast special which included, scrambled eggs, two sausage links, hash browns,a coffee and a slice of apple pie or a stack of pancakes. Kadeem chose pancakes while Michel'le chose apple pie.

“So, why you want the job?” Kadeem asked as soon as the waitress was out of ear shot.

“Well um-”

“Yo, excuse me but you mind looking me in my eyes when you speak to me, baby girl,” Kadeem cut in.

Her blush spread up to the corners of her ears now. Her face grew hot as she moved her gaze from the menu to his eyes. Her mouth suddenly started to feel dry, “I'm sorry, it's a force of habit.” Michel'le quickly apologized with a slight stutter.

“It's all good.” He assured her with a nod, folding his gold-ring covered fingers together as he leaned forward, Kadeem smiled at her with a smile that made her feel at ease. He had a smile that could open the gates of heaven, “So, tell me why you want the job.”

The softness within his eyes made her feel relaxed and more comfortable to open up, “Well, it sounds nice.” She started off with a smile slowly creasing the corners of her lips, “I mean it sounds like light work compared to what I'm used to. I'm good at tranquility, and I want the job because I like spaces that are peaceful and you want a peaceful home. I can provide that.“

The pair shared a lingering look and for Michel'le this was rare. She couldn't bring herself to look elsewhere. The subtle smile on his lips that was slowly turning to a smirk,

“You real sweet Michel'le.” he said casually just as the waitress brought over their food. His type of casualness made her speechless. Unable to respond because she hadn't come across someone like him before. His cool, calm, and calculated demeanor made her feel so frantic and feral on the inside.

The pair mutually and inaudibly graced each other with the respect of silence to enjoy their food while it was hot. The chimed medley of forks clicking against porcelain plates was what could be heard for a good ten to fifteen minutes. Every so often their eyes would meet and Michel'le would be the first to look elsewhere in a bashful manner. Tapping her mouth to clean off any crumbles of food, she proceeded to ask about his son, “What's your baby's name? The profilio didn't give his name, sorry. Just that he's an infant boy.” she nibbled at the side of her lip as asked further, “what's he like?”

The authentic smile of happiness that formed across Kadeem's face at the mention of his son, “My boy's name is Jerome.” The smile on Kadeem's face brightened up the whole room in Michel'le’’s eyes. It was sweet to see.”He's beautiful, real beautiful. The moment we met, I looked into his eyes and just saw an angel. My biggest blessing fo’real.” He could really rant about how great his baby boy was all day, but instead he took out his leather wallet and pulled out a credit card sized photo of the boy. Michel'le moved her plate aside and leaned over the table to get a closer look, Kadeem caught a whiff of her perfume. She smelt like peppermint and vanilla buttercream frosting. An unexpected mixture but he was digging it.

“He looks just like you,” she smiled as she further looked at the photo, “You're right. He's beautiful. I like his eyes, they're pretty.”

“Preciate’ that babygirl, he's my mini me fo'real.” Kadeem replied before he pushed his plate aside and opened the portfolio given to him by her agency. A few things on it made one of his eyebrows raise, “You twenty-four? I woulda guessed seventeen.” He commented aloud as he read, “From Culbra, Puerto Rico, hm? It says you only been in the states eight months, ya English is real crystal clear tho…” he nodded in approval before flipping to client forms.

“Thanks, uh I spoke English back home. It was taught in grade school as a secondary language. Tourism jobs helped me be more fluent too, I guess.” Michel'le shared quietly as she slid over her plate of apple pie. Kadeem nodded his head but didn't utter a word due to focusing on reading over her patient performance biweekly reports.

*You ever taken care of a child before? Cause all I'm seeing here is a whole lotta old niggas here on they last days.” Kadeem began to wonder why his mother went to an agency who specialized in the elderly and not children. His son nor him needed AARP or a bedpan. “No disrespect, sweetheart. I mean I'm sure that them niggas is more of a handful than Jerome.” He quickly added on.

He looked her directly in her eyes as he awaited an answer and despite Michel’le wanting the job, she wasn't going to lie. “No I haven't. Ever.” She admitted with a firm tone. The first one that bothered to appear in the midst of their conversation. She managed to push past her stutter and nervousness to give a solid answer without feeling defeated.

Kadeem sent a head nod her way as he ran his tongue across his bottom lip. “Ain't much of a problem.” His attention shifted behind her as his henchmen decided to make their way back inside the diner and walk past his & michel'le's table just as he asked, “You know how to cook? Not no hospital patient food, I mean do you know to rock them pots, babygirl.”

“She sholl ain't get that muthfuckin' thick eatin' no

rabbit food.” One of his henchmen muttered underneath his breath as he passed Kadeem. None other than Tez-G. Kadeem shot him a look that could only be read as ‘If I wasn't busy I'd punch you in the fucking mouth’

Luckily, He said it closer to Kadeem than Michel'le because by the looks of it, she didn't appear to hear. The girl was with her head down, silently eating her pie as she contemplated her answer.

“Well, that's uh…a matter of opinion… isn't it?” She replied awkwardly as she fiddled with her fork, “ I think I cook fairly well. I cook for myself only what I've been taught by my mother and her mother. But um, it's not about me. It's about you, serving you what you like.” She clarified before placing a forkful of apple pie in her mouth.

'Serve you' Kadeem liked the sound of that. It fed his king mentality and ego.

“Word.” He smirked.

The remainder of their time lasted ten minutes, when their breakfast desserts were finished, Kadeem stuck his hand out, “Preciate’ you choppin it up wit me, Michel'le.”

As she reached her hand out to shake his,the way he said her name made her feel scatterbrained. Sure, she thought she had a decent name. Michel'le didn't have a problem with it but the way kadeem said it made it sound pretty, Or maybe if only sounded pretty coming from his mouth. Michel'le wasn't able to get in a second thought because he had kissed her knuckles instead of shaking her hand and she wasn't expecting that at all.

“I'll be in touch.” The words that spilled from his heart-shaped lips went in one ear and out the other because she still was hung up on the fact that he kissed her hand. The softness of his lips reminded her of the softness of marshmallows.

“O-okay.” The care attendant managed to squeak out. A wobbly, goofball smile sat heavy on her pouty lips, “Thanks for breakfast.” She rushed out the words with a mousy tone as her anxiety flared up when she stood up. She needed to get up and go before embarrassing herself (further) by talking too fast or stuttering too badly. Her mind was in overstimulation mode. Which was a rare occurrence for a woman like her who walked with a high sense of numbness to any and everything around her.

She swiftly waved goodbye with her hand moving frantically. Kadeem had just sat there with a smirk of amusement laid across his lips as he sent her a head nod. He definitely has his fun subtly messing with her. Michel'le was easy to read in his opinion.Her genuineness was displayed within her eyes. He watched as she rushed out of the diner with her coat and beanie in hand.

Kadeem's attitude during the duration of her interview was the nicest he had been in the last few months. Even before his baby mother's passing, he'd been hard and cut throat. Raq was moving shady and he was smoking her out one flame at a time. Also, he cut corners in his crew, discarding rats and bringing those who showed ‘’loyalty’ at the levels of survival of the fittest. This was war and he needed the strongest soldiers lined up behind him.

“Nique what you did that got that girl running out like a church mouse?” Worrell joked as he slid into the seat that Michel'le once sat in.

“Just being friendly.” Kadeem chastised with a smirk.

“Yeah, be a lil mo friendly and she might go into cardiac arrest or some shit. She got a real bugged out look.” Worrell attempted to widen his eyes enough to get them to be as big as hers.

“You look stupid as fuck, yo. Matter fact, stop looking at me nigga, it's offensive.” Kareem mugged him with a look of annoyance. He let out a chuckle when Worrell huffed. “Come on man, back to work.” Kareem dropped a crisp hundred dollar bill on the table before he rose up from his seat.

Kareem's day blended into the night and that spilled into the early morning hour of six a.m. He'd taken the long way home to his new residence and ended up walking through his front door at 7 a.m. The aroma of Fodgers coffee beans brewing let him know his mother had gotten up and was occupying the kitchen. And after he left his shoes by the door and made his way into the kitchen, he was met with exactly what he expected. There in the center of the kitchen Sheronda was seated at the kitchen table. Her usual silk bluebonnet laid on her head, a mug of coffee in her left hand with a Newport cigarette between her fingers.

“Hey Mama.” Kadeem greeted warmly as he took a seat across from her.

A look of relief flashed across her eyes as her shoulders visibly settled down. With the life he lived, it was a blessing every time he came back in one piece, “Hey suga.” She greeted tiredly with a soft welcoming smile.

“I got some good news, well more for you than for me but still good.” Kareem grinned. And when she raised her brow and awaited his response, he continued “I may have found

a caregiver for the crib and Jerome.”

“How old is she?” Was his mother's first question. She hoped the woman in question was someone seasoned when it came to the task and at least in her late fifties. Her age range request for the agencies was fifty to sixty-five.

“Dang ma, you ain't gonna ask about her credentials first?” He teased with a chuckle.

All jokes aside, Michel'le had sixteen pages worth of up to date credentials that sparked his interest. She knew how to administer a series of medications, change wounds, use stitching to properly cover wounds, hell she cleaned immobile people from top to bottom and the patient's families said she made them feel safe and comfortable. Grown adults who were being cared for like infants,

“If she's something nice to look at I doubt you give a damn about her credentials.” his mother replied while giving him a side-eye.

Kadeem only laughed his mother off, “Man ma it ain't even like that. Plus, I think she's a nun or some shit like that. I mean…she showed up covered up from top to bottom.” Even with the information he had told her, his mother looked at him as if she didn't believe one bit of what he was saying. Kareem only chuckled as he stood up, “Look, do you wanna do the job? Because we can cancel all this.”

Sheronda kept quiet before shaking her head and taking a sip of her coffee.

“Aight then, I'm gonna go check on little man then shower.” He placed a kiss on his mother's cheek before heading upstairs.

All jokes aside, Kadeem had no interest in pursuing Michel'le in any aspect. Romantically, Sexually, etc. His main focus was getting Jerome comfortable so that he could get the kingdom he built in order and be better than ever. Outside her beauty, Michel’le wasn't his type. She was too green and damsels in distress wasn't his thing. But then again, Kadeem couldn't overlook that his taste in women was merely a product of his environment. They were predictable. He knew what they liked and how they moved. They all turned on him at some point. All snakes in the grass looking for the next with more street credibility, money, power, and anything else that was superficial. Like him.

#theesirenteller fanfic #unique raising kanan x oc #joey bada$$#raising kanan #Kadeem Mavis x ofc #theesirentellerstories #joey bada$$ fanfiction #blk!ofc #blk!plus sizeoc #black love #black girl!reader #woc poc #poc ofc #domesticated; Unqiue raising Kanan #black writers #blk writer #Kadeem 'Unqiue' Mathis x ofc

28 notes · View notes

theesirenteller · 4 months

Text

Domesticated | Unqiue

🅳🅴🆂🅲🆁🅸🅿🆃🅸🅾🅽

Michel'le couldn't believe that she had gotten the job. She wasn't expecting it so it came as a positive surprise. ‘One small step for man, one giant leap for mankind.’ she thought to herself when she had gotten the news from Jasmine, three days after her interview. Upon getting her employment contract and filling out the proper paperwork, Michel'le was given instructions from Jasmine to wait outside of her current residence to be picked up by a man named Worrell. Any belongings could be brought with her as the employer had an area in the home where she would be staying permanently. A new home.

She tried not to grow anxious at the thought of being in a new space. And instead spent her time cleaning out her studio apartment. It was about the size of an average living room but with more closet space. She loved what she called her ‘hobbit hole’. The only door was the front door. She'd removed the bathroom and closet doors when she first moved in and instead replaced them with beaded curtains. Majority of her apartment was just filled with books, cds, a boom box, with a twin sized mattress by the window. So cleaning out the place meant using her laundry cart to transport books to the library to donate and going back home. She'd taken a total of six trips before she had fully finished.

Now, after a much needed bath. Michel'le stood in her apartment in a black long sleeved bodysuit and fuzzy black socks on her feet. Her hair clipped into a low messy-bun by a claw clip. The two black leather suitcases that she arrived in New York with were a bit beaten down and now used once again for her to pack away her articles of clothing. A burnt orange Nike backpack was packed with the books and CDs she did keep which were; Misery by Stephen King, Mastering the Art of French Cooking

Book by Julia Child, Hannibal by Thomas Harris, Two Led Zeppelin CDs, One Frank Sinatra, Billie Holiday, and Etta James CDs. She had her collection of her dearest items safely tucked away.

Her autumn brown eyes flickered to the clock that sat on her kitchen counter. 10:00 a.m. Worrell would be at her apartment in fifteen minutes. Michel'le arose from her old bed and grasped the pair of fleece-lined joggers that she set aside to travel in. Her feet then slipped into her leather boots that she wore daily like a second pair of feet. Once her heavy coat was layered on, she collected her things and gave her ’hobbit hole’ one last look before leaving to start a new beginning.

Michel'le stood out of the vintage brown six-story building with her bags in front of her. The weather was worse than the North Pole, she was convinced. A bitter cold was in the New York air but luckily for her there wasn't any snow. Being cold was one thing. But being cold and wet was another type of pain. Soon but not soon enough, a white mustang pulled into the block and slowed down near her. She recognized the same man in the driver's seat as the one who had taken her coat off for her at the interview. The man gave a head nod in her direction as he pulled up and in return, Michel'le waved awkwardly back.

“Aye, you Michele right? I'm Worrell. We met at the diner.” He greeted the moment he had gotten out of the vehicle.

“It's Michel'le, not Michele.” She quickly corrected, her words rushing out so fast that they had mushed together,“But uh yeah um we did.” It had nothing to do with him personally, but she felt uneasy. Perhaps she would've preferred to be given the address so that she could take a cab alone. If not that, she would have been comfortable with Kadeem picking her up. Or her supervisor, Jasmine. Some familiarity would have been more comforting.

“Oh my bad.” He apologized before taking her bags from the ground and loading them into the trunk of his car, “This all ya stuff?” Worrell asked with a raised brow. He thought women had more clothing items and accessories than men. But then again the woman before him looked like someone from a convent or some modest wife of a bishop. How she had gotten hired looking like a member of the children of the corn still blew his mind. Her scattered attention, the way she moved her eyes so quickly, or would look at the ground made Worrell feel a little uneasy. But he kept things brief and opened the passenger door for her.

“Thanks.” Michel'le said as she slipped in and buckled up. The warmth of the car heater brought her relief.The earphones that hung around her neck like a necklace were soon put on her ears when Worrell got in and started up the engine. As he did so, Michel'le pulled her cd player from her coat pocket and pressed play. ‘Drive Me Insane Trouble Is Gonna Come To You

One Of These Days And It Won't Be Long

You'll Look For Me But Baby I'll Be Gone

This Is All I Gotta Say To You Woman:

Your Time Is Gonna Come

Your Time Is Gonna Come’

The electric guitar and the leader's soulful voice easily detached Michel'le from reality. Drowning herself in the artist's pain and feeling the bass of the instruments against her skin made the ride more digestible. Her eyes stayed fixed on watching the scenery that they bypassed through the window. She hadn't meant to but Michel'le had doze off during the ride at some point because she had been awoken by Worrell shaking her shoulder. Her eyes opened wide and she rugged off her headphones as she looked at him confused, “Why are we at the Brooklyn library?”

“Nique picking you up.”Worrell replied shortly.

From the side mirror, Michel'le saw a Black BMW pull up behind Worell's White Mustang. Kadeem's tall frame soon came out in a black chinchilla with a matching black velour tracksuit. He looked like a million bucks. And Michel'le's stomach had done a few flips when she saw him. Both Worrell and Michel'le then proceeded to get out the car.

“Sup, Michel'le. How you feelin, babygirl?” Kadeem greeted her with a suavé tone and gentle smile. Perhaps it was her timid nature that made him want to be kind to her. Handle her with a bit of gentleness that he didn't care to give to others.

The corners of her lips curled up as a smile stretched across her lips as her face warmed, “H-hi! I'm cool, thanks.”

Her bashfulness caused Kadeem to chuckle as he opened the passenger door of his BMW for her.”Hey, how's Jerome doing today?” Her checking in on Jerome and just the fact that she remembered his name made his infectiously-beautiful smile slide across his lips.

The man turned into silly putty when it came to his son, “He straight, you'll meet him soon.” he replied as he closed the door. Kadeem then proceeded to walk around the car and met Worell halfway to his driver's side. As he had done so, Michel'le admired him. The way he wore his clothing and walked. Minor details about him she studied in her mind as she drank him in. Butterflies danced in her stomach as she gazed at him. He was like a dream physically manifested into reality. His nose scrunched as his lip curled in what could only be perceived as distaste at whatever Worell had told him. His distasteful look slowly started to turn sinister before Michel'le’s eyes. His large hands that were adorned with chunky gold fingers balled into fists. The way his broad shoulders hunched forward as his lips moved quickly gave Michel'le the impression he gave a harsh order before he slid into the driver's seat.

“My bad.” He apologized for the wait as he kept his eyes forward. His tone was sharp but the pressure his foot put against the gas pedal was harsher. His driving wasn't reckless but it was faster than the speed limit. Michel'le had to grasp onto the console and take a breath out her nose to calm herself from going into an anxiety attack. As he took jagged turns through different streets, Michel'le gulped dryly as she mustered up the courage to make small-talk. But, Kadeem had spoken first.

“I hate mess and niggas these days is real messy.” He spat. Hatred seething from his words as he spoke. “So I'd appreciate it if you don't bring no messes into my crib,” his attention briefly brushed to her before he turned his attention back on the road.

Michel'le gulped dryly as she nodded, “I can do that.” she decided it was now that was the right time to ask her question, “Why didn't Worell take me all the way to your house? I mean…isn't this a bit out of your way?”

“Nah, it's not.” He replied shortly. Nobody needed to know where he laid his head at, Worell included. Kadeem had made that mistake before letting his crew get comfortable with knowing where he resided. He always said he trusted nobody but having someone near or aware of his sacred space was trust. Women and children were supposed to be off limits but Kadeem knew all too well that not many followed those rules in the game. Anywhere Jerome was, nobody Kadeem didn't trust could be.

Michel'le couldn't help but gawk at the home that resembled a mini-mansion as soon as the pair arrived. The home was a two-story dark sienna-brown Tuscan style brick house with black exterior trim around the front door and large windows. Homes a few sizes smaller were located along both sides of the home with large bright-green trees and clean, crisp lawns. Kadeem had opened the passenger-side door and Michel'le gawked at the neighborhood as she had gotten out. “This area is really nice.”

“Mhm, real quiet too.” Kadeem agreed as he had gotten her bags. He had led her to the front of the home and the front door had been opened by his mother, Sheronda.

The elder woman and Michel'le gawked at one another. One with a wide-eyed gaze and the other sizing-up the younger woman. Kadeem had her same complexion, eye shape, and nose. This was clearly his mother from what Michel’le could see, “Hello, I'm Michel-”

“I know. From the agency.” Sheronda’s tone was anything but welcoming. And Michel'le quickly stuffed her extended hand back into her coat pocket and moved her gaze down to her feet.

“Ma, watch out. Michel'le, come on.” Kadeem said with a smack of his lips, he moved past the two woman, carrying the suitcases in his hands. Michel'le quickly followed behind him while mumbling lowly “Excuse me,” to his mother.

The foyer of the home was a deep shade of chocolate brown with hints of cherry-red mixed in. It matched the dark oak wood accents. A large burnt orange runner on the floor had hand-painted brown leafs that looked like ending of Autumn. “I made sure you got your own spot,” Kadeem informed as he walked up the oak staircase.

“Thanks.''Michel'le timidly whispered as she quickly followed his lead.

They’d made it to the third floor, which at a glance looked like an antic. The door was made of wood and was blank. But when Kadeem had unlocked it and led her inside, the view was immaculate. What may have been viewed as simple or modest to some, was amazing to her.

The floors were freshly waxed cherrywood, the wide open spaced area was styled with earth-toned furniture. In the center of the room was a large vanilla-cream colored sheepskin rug. Which had a matching vanilla-cream and cappuccino colored loveseat that was made of cedarwood and egyptian cotton. A low level mocha-brown tea table sat a few feet away from it. A porcelain tea set and a stack of JET magazines sat in the center of the table. Two leather chestnut chairs sat opposite of everything. And a wooden chest was placed against the wall with a Tv seated upon it. To the far left was a hand crafted wooden vanity with a uniquely shaped mirror that resembled moving water. In the shape of a wave.The large windows smack dab in the middle of the room was a large circular shape that gave the area a heavenly sunset glaze. Steps were created along with a platform off to the far left and laid on top of it all was a queen size bed with fresh sheets and duvet that looked like clouds. The table in front of it looked hand crafted with it brown, beige, and peach detailing and smooth, shiny overglaze.

“So…you fuck wit it-” Kadeem hadn't expected to be engulfed in a hug. Her soft and chunky arms pressed against his sides. His chest was warmed by the fullness of her breasts. It was slightly off-putting to him to encounter raw emotion up close and personal. Out of his norm. But he didn't decline it. Instead, he wrapped both of his arms around her shoulders with his gold ring-covered fingers pressed against the center of her back, “you good, sweetheart?”

His honey-bourbon cologne overlapped Michel’le as she hugged him. His smokey voice that prickled against her ear caused goosebumps to form at the side of her neck. The warmth that radiated off of him felt like being drunk in by the sun. The morning sunshine reflected off of the grill that graced his teeth,“y-yeah…” she squeaked as she slowly pulled back, “This is just really nice and I’m grateful for it.” Looking into Kadeem’s eyes, Michel’le could now relate to the term ‘getting lost in his eyes’ that so many romance novels described.

His hands smoothed down her shoulders as Kadeem smiled when looking down at her. The corners of his lips held a slight curve as he smirked. His lips slowly started to spread but before he could utter a word, a cough echoed from behind the two. Which had caused Kadeem to drop his hands off of Michel’le’s body. He turned his neck and looked over his shoulder, “Sup mama?”

“Let her get settled in so I can show her Jerome and his routine before I leave.”Sheronda said with a sharp tone. She sizes up the two before side-eyeing Kadeem as he joins her outside the room. “Don’t be too long. We’ll be on the first floor, first door to the left.” She ordered Michael's before closing the door.

“Lil nigga you ain’t slick.”Sheronda smacked her palm against the back of Kadeem neck.

“Lady, I’m just doin what you asked.” He chuckles as the two of them make their way down the staircase.

Meanwhile on the other side of the door, Michel’le looked around at everything once more before she rolled her suitcases towards a closet. She then chose to leave them within the closet for the time being. Her coat was soon removed before she had taken out her medical bag. What once held gauzes, hypertension medication, and adult diapers now held; Infant acetaminophen. rectal thermometer, a nasal aspirator, saline drops, bandages and antibiotic ointment disinfectant, as well as gas drops. An infant herbal aide book was tucked securely at the very top of the bag. Now feeling much more prepared with her bag in hand, Michel’le made her way out of her new room and headed downstairs.

The living room wasn’t what she had expected. It was far brighter and more welcoming. The whole interior was a creamy beige color with accents of vibrant orange and hints of green from the plants that were cascaded around various tops of furniture. Kadeem had been seated upon the leather orange loveseat while his mother sat beside him with Jerome in her lap. Michel’le had taken a seat on a brown swivel chair that was across from them. She couldn't peel her eyes away from the swaddled up infant within his grandmother's arms. He was more beautiful in person and slept soundlessly with a small pout across his lips, from what she could see. Over the course of half an hour Sheronda walked her through Jerome’s daily routine. She shared his medical paperwork and amongst that time Michel’le learned that Jerome had a weak immune system due to fighting of a pneumonia a few months prior. So, he needed his daily does of vitamins. Which also meant he had the runs often.

Michel’le had frowned as the news as she felr bad for the child. She knew health issues too well and it hurt that a child so young was experiencing them. When she finally had gotten a chance to hold him, her hands were calmly. Luckily, he couldn't feel them through the blanket. Her knees unnoticeably shook as she held him in front of her. Michel’le didn’t know what it was about babies exactly that got her nervous. But if she took a wild guess, shes say it was the fact that they were so small and fragile. Fragility made her nervous. But then again, just about everything made her nervous.

As she held him in her hands, she leaned in and whispered,”Hi Jerome, I'm Michel’le.” as if they were sharing a secret. His soft coos as his big brown eyes stared into hers made her feel as though he was saying ‘Hi’ back.

From a few away, Kadeem couldn't help but crack a smile at the sight. It was cute. For lack of a deeper explanation.

Sheronda had allowed Michel’le to continue to hold Jerome so that he would get familiar with her. While Sheronda had given a tour of the home, Michel”le held onto the baby as if he were made of porcelain. His head nuzzled against her breast as her hand gently laid against the back of his head as Michel’le was escorted around the kitchen. The walls and cabinets were painted a vibrant shade of orange. Large, exotic plants were scattered around various corners. “This is really nice.” she murmured lowly.

“Yeah? Make sure you keep it that way.” Sheronda replied.

“Ma, I’ll be back!” Kadeem’s voice boomer through the home before the sound of the door closing followed behind.

“Get used to a lot of that. He won’t be here much so just make sure Jerome is good and this house is spotless.” Sheronda sized up Michel’le with her eyes, “No more. No less.” Despite Sheronda’s warning, something told her that her words would fall on deaf ears.

But in the beginning she was right. Michel’le barely saw Kadeem for the next three weeks. Usually it wasn't longer than three hours in the early morning or just after midnight. She followed his mothers recipes and always left his plate of food inside the fridge wrapped in aluminum foil.

Her job was blissful. Michel’le wasn’t a stranger to cleaning so she went through the rooms swiftly and kept things shiny and tidy. Expect for Kadeem’s room. He forbid her to enter it and would leave his laundry basket out his door when he needed his clothes clean. Specific instructions for certain articles of clothing. What he called his ‘meeting’ room was quite an interesting space. It was smaller, it if not the smallest room in the house. Dark interior walls with large paintings in orange and a beige and brown animal print rug. His desk drawers were locked and Michel’le only dusted the area and cleaned the rug. There wasn't much else to do in that room.

Jerome was a sweet baby once he had warmed up to her. Miss.Sheronda had told her to not pick him up too much but Michel’le couldnt help but to pick him up often. His sudden cries would make her wince or flinch and she had just wanted to ease his stress or discomfort. Sometimes he would cry despite not needing to be changed or fed, so she would cuddle and talk to him until he returned to a state of comfortability once again. This morning was no different. On Monday, at 6:30 a.m. Michel’le had finished cooking herself breakfast when he began crying again. He’d only been asleep for half an hour before awakening again.

“Oh geez.” She whispered frantically as she swiftly had gotten up and rushed into the living room. Reaching for the frowning infant who laid in the brown bassinet. “Hey buddy, what's the matter now?” whispering gently in his ear, she carefully cradled in her arms. Sneaking a peak at his diaper, Michel’le frowned. Green again. “Don’t worry bud I’ll get you sorted out,” she assured him as she began to get him cleaned up on the changing table within the living room. Her right hand rubbed his quivering belly. The warmth of her hand slowly caused him to stop shaking.

The tumblers of the front door’s lock clicked and soon Kadeem entered the home. The aroma of blueberries, vanilla, and butter, and cake batter filled his nose the moment he stepped inside. Jerome’s low wailing had wiped the drowsiness away from him. Kadeem’s timberland boots cracked heavily against the freshly waxed floors as he followed the cries, “Yo Michel’le, wassup wit em’?” A spark of panic swept across him until he laid his eyes on the housekeeper and his child.

“The formula ran through him again.” She stated as she began to swaddle him tightly before holding him to her chest, her mocha eyes settling above her at Kadeem, “The vitamin prescriptions are too strong for him as well, he needs more fiber to not get the runs.” Her tone turning saddened as she rubbed his back.

“Shit…” The kingpin breathed out as he ran his hand across his face, “So what that mean? We gotta take him to the doctors? Change his formula?” He reached his hands out towards her and as soon as Michel’le passed him the baby; the boy was cradled against his chest.

“No.” She smoothed out her cable knit sweater before tightly wrapping the diaper trash bag and folding the towel up, “Whole grains are fiber and according to the Jared association of infant natural and medicinal care book; We can fix that by adding whole grain cream of wheat into his formula along with half an ounce of banana.” She proceeded to reach into the medical bag underneath his changing table and pull out the book.

Michel’le then stood up and pointed towards the fine print of the highlighted page. Kadeem towered over her and she could feel the heat radiant off of his body due to how close they were. His dark cherry and whiskey cologne swept through her nostrils as he read over her shoulder.

“A’ight cool, I’ll be back.” His words slipped into her ear like a hushed whisper. With the book leaving her hands and baby Jerome slipping into them, Michel’le felt the sturdiness of his chest brush against her back as he passed her to leave.

It didn't take him long to come to the store and come back. But by the time he had came back, the comforting scent of fried eggs for breakfast had blessed his nostrils. Before Kadeem had went to join Michel’le in the kitchen, he took time to get out of his chinchilla coat and timbs, before washing his hands. Mohair trimmed leather house slippers had been placed on his feet and his long-wool crimson-red house coat laid over his shoulders as he made his way to the kitchen, “What you cookin’? Smells good.” he asked as he put down the boxes of cream of wheat and a bundle of bananas.

“Mangú. Which is steamed plantains, fried eggs with salchichon, which is a type of salami that’s meant to be fried. Oh, ans I made blueberry stuffed pancakes with a vanilla-cinnamon glaze.” She explained as she watched him take a seat.

Kadeem grasped his plate with both hands and inhaled the smoke, inhaling its scent. “Thank you.” a genuine smile spread across his lips.

The apples of Michel’le’s cheeks had tinted a deep shade of scarlet that appeared muted pink on the surface, “It’s no problem.” she had gotten up from her seat and started to boil water in a small pot. Three different measuring cups were soon laid out and she then began evening out the portions of bananas, formula, and cream of wheat powder.

“How you like workin here, babygirl?” Kadeem asked as he cut into his savory plate. The clipping of forks against the plate could be heard soon after.

“I love it. It’s…” she trailed off trying to find the words, “This is so much better than what I expected or could have hoped for. The cleaning part is easy so I don’t mind that. But um, Jerome there had me nervous at first. But now me and the little guy are pretty good friends I think.”

“Mhmm” Kadeem smirked in between digging into his food. He couldn't help but to fuck up his plate, everything on it was so good that he debated asking for seconds. Instead, he moved onto his pancakes, “Why you so nervous all the time?” His thick black eyebrows knitted together, “Aint nun gon happen to you, you got my word.”

Michel’le sucked in a breathe as the hand that stirred within the pot, halted. Her head slowly tilted to the side and she looked his way, “You really mean that Kadeem?” she asked a little above a whisper but he had heard her clearly.

Her soft tone was pleasurable to the ears. A nice change from rowdiness of the block, or foul-mouthed women he ran across. The change wasn’t bad and it was his first sense of serenity in a long while…if ever.

The pair stared at one another few a lingering moments as he chewed with his mouth closed. “My word is bond.” He answered.

The fawn-like smile she gave him made him smile bacl at her. “Okay, thank you.”

After preparing Jerome a bottle and taking a seat at the table as she awaited for it to cool, Michel’le began to open up about herself,”I used to have seizures when I a kid. Mh grandma said if I played too long I’d overheat…I think it's called overexasperation. “ She bit at the corner of her lip as she shrugged, “I don’t know what triggers it, my blood just gets pumping ans my heart starts racing over the littest of things or sudden acts. I feel like a big scardy cat most of the time.” Her cheek rested against her fist as she looked down at the brown kitchen table.

Michel’le need to be protected from the roughness of the streets. The aggression of New York, or the world in general was attractive. It was a attractive to be needed. She may not have asked to be protected or express any need for Kadeem to protect her. But, he felt the need to. The desire to. Kadeem reached his left hand across the table and the tips of of his fingers gently tapped against her knuckles, “Don't beat ya self up bout it. Being scary sometimes ain’t a bad thing…means you don’t trust muthafuckas easily. Them nerves keep you vigilant, right?”

To which Michel’le quickly nodded her head. Kadeem’s smile came rolling back around making her stomach flutter. “Aight then, maybe that’s your super power or some shit like dat.” the nasily giggle she let out made his infectiously-beautiful smile widen.

“I-I like your smile, you should smile more often. Makes you look less…intense.” Michel’le complimented, bashfully.

His smile curved into a smirk, “Preciate that.” he then stood up and scooped Jerome in his arms before grabbing the now warm bottle off the table, “Go on and enjoy ya breakfast, I got em.” he assured before he carried Jerome out the kitchen.

With a smile plastered across her lips, Michel’le dug into her food; kicking her feet underneath the table with glee.

The morning soon transitions to late mid-day. Jerome had managed to sleep a total of six hours. Which, was major progress since he never slept longer than two. Both Kadeem and Michel’le were able to spend time doing what theyd wanted. Michel’le caught up on the latest chapters of Hannibal while Kadeem spent his time within his office and the other half outside.

An hour of his time was spent within the sheets and between the legs of a woman named Solana. Solana lived a few houses down the street from Raq and was a mother to four boys. And a lengthy wrap sheet with the law for gangbanging alongside various men. She was tall with a dark mocha complexion and slim build with a thick lower half. A bit of a sex addict with a burning desire for Nique that always kept him coming back. She was wild enough to leave the dents of her nails imprinted on his skin.

The smoke from his blunt filled the air of Solana’s kitchen as Kadeem peaked out of her curtains, looking towards Raq’s house. A dark chuckle leaving his lips as he watched Kanan leave.

“Yo Nique, you don't hear me talkin to you?” Solana said with a snappy tone and a musky voice.

“My bad, wassup baby?” Kadeem replied as he turned his head and looked her way.

Solana narrowed her eyebrows at him before smacking her lips,”Worrell’s lil flavor of the week told you moved. When you gonna wine and dine me other there? Let me come wit the boys and cook for you?”

Kadeem fought the urge to laugh. But, he couldn't hold off the chuckles that escaped his lips, “I ain't move nowhere. I'm still in the same spot.” the lies spilled from his lips easier than the truth. “Look, how bout I take you to Tao steakhouse next Saturday?” The suggestion came off his lips quicker than his previous lies. Would he hold up on his end of the offer was the real question…and the answer was most likely not.

Upon leaving Solana”s house and taking all of Raq’s resources away from her later that day; he managed to arrive home earlier than he previously had. The golden hour of the day was slowly clocking towards moonlight hours. Mother nature had been nicer tonight. The weather was breezy instead of brick and the thought of taking a stroll before dinner had been fresh in Kadeem's mind.

“Michel'le.” He called out with a husky voice from the threshold. Upon not getting any type of response, he called her name once again as he made his way upstairs.

There she stood in Jerome's room in a pair of brown leggings that hugged every ounce of her body and clung to her skin like a second layer of skin. A chunky orange canble-knit turtleneck sweater sat at her waist. Which gave Unique a full of her backside. Snapping out of his staring state, he called her name in a softer tone to avoid startling her while she had Jerome in her arms. When she slowly turned around and gave him a shy smile as she greeted him, Kadeem felt a sense of serenity. Her smile was like a warm hug on a cold night.

“Your home early. I uh haven't started dinner yet.” She said.

“It's cool. I'm not hungry right now.” He assured her. “How you feel bout talkin’ a walk? Just us three.” His hands folded over his fists as his back was leaned against the wall beside the door.

“That sounds nice. Um, I'll just get Jerome ready and we'll be set to go.” She replied.

It had taken her ten minutes to get Jerome and herself ready. The boy was dressed in a North Face infant snowsuit and a thick black hat on his head. His golden chain stayed around his neck, matching the golden colored thermal blanket that laid over him. Soon enough, the father, son, and house keeper walked alongside one another down the neighborhood. Kadeem's hand rested on the handlebar of Jerome's stroller as he walked closely beside Michel’le.

“If you don't mind me asking, what happened to his mother?” Michel'le asked, breaking the silence between them.

“She got herself killed.” He nearly spat out those words. The thought of her angering him.

“Oh.” She whispered with a frown, “Did you hate her? Or love her?”

Shrugging his shoulders underneath his brown coat, he replied, “I hate how she carried herself. Her actions that caused her demise got me hot. Like, maybe she ain't give a fuck bout lil man like she claimed she did.”

Michel'le didn't fully understand due to the details being left out. But she caught the jist and simply nodded her head,“Were you together when she passed?”

“Nah. I had no love for shorty. Shit, Jerome was just one of them gifts from God that come on ya doorstep like a Christmas present. I got no love in my heart for a lady in my life.” Kadeem replied. But before Michel'le could ask why, he clarified, “I don't trust nobody Michel'le. Loyalty means more to me than love.”

#theesirenteller fanfic #theesirentellerstories #domesticated; unqiue raising kanan #joey bada$$#theesirenteller characters #unique raising kanan x oc #raising kanan

2 notes · View notes