#they cloned tyrone x reader | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dawnwriterimagines · 8 months

Text

Missing Pieces : Fontaine x f!Reader

Summary: After supposedly returning from a shooting he can't remember, Fontaine's memory seems to be a little jacked as something doesn't feel right. He sits down with Slick Charles, trying to connect the missing pieces in his daily routine, while everyone tries to explain to him that someone's missing...

Warning(s): Violence, Angst, Amnesia, etc.

It was loud, it was close, almost like it was right in front of him.

BANG!

A gun shot rang out.

Fontaine's eyes burst open, he sits up with a startled breath, almost choking on the first gasp he lets out.

Putting a hand against his chest, feeling for the indent of a bullet hole he was sure had gone through him at some point. But there was none, only the raised scars from a few mishaps or scuffles with any dumb motherfucker that used to try him. The ghost of pain was strange, as he shook himself out of his slumber it quickly settled and numbed to nothing. But it wasn't really even a memory, a nightmare?

He'd gotten shot before, never flat out in the chest like he'd felt when he got up. Somehow, he imagined it would've felt differently. But, then again, it was only a nightmare.

Fontaine ran a hand down his face, sighing heavily. The nightmare faded from his mind, he couldn't even remember what it was about, but it had left him shaken.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, he seemed to wait for something, looking beside himself to see if anyone were sleeping at his bedside. It was empty, the other side's cover tucked tight.

Brows furrowing at the weird feeling that the morning had already brought for him, Fontaine huffed out a breath and stood, preparing for his day.

He got dressed, throwing on the white sweatshirt and a pair of worn down jeans, as he pulled them on, he caught sight of a silver chain on his dresser, a threaded cross at the end.

Walking over to it, he took it and looked it over, it was unfamiliar to the eye but he could've sworn at some moment he had probably worn it, or he had seen it on somebody else. He pockets it, leaving the room.

Outside, he meets up with his boys, the gang crowding at the corner, waiting on him. On the front yard, Fontaine lays on the lifting bench, putting an ungodly number of rusted plates on the bar before pressing the weight with no assistance.

The two other swole muhfuckas huddle around him hyping him up, throwing insults to goad him to a few more lifts as he nears his next rep, "One more! Weak ass nigga!" Fontaine huffs a puff of air, muscles flexing as he lifts another. "One more!"

"Hey Fontaine!" Junebug yells as he runs over, a Caprisun in his grasp.

Fontaine racks the weight with no problem, sitting up, he looks to the kid as he stops in front of him with a toothy smile, looking around. "Where she at, man?" Junebug asks, suddenly looking disappointed.

Fontaine raised a brow, before standing taking his jacket off the ground, "What you doin' here, Junebug?"

"(Y/n)," the kid says, "Where she at, huh?"

"I ain't got yo' babysitter, lil man." The name sounds familiar for a split second, until it doesn't.

Junebug frowns. "Did you get in a fight again?"

"What the fuck you talkin' bout, Junebug? I dunno no bitch named..." he pauses a minute, catching sight of a car, a 1975 AMC Pacer, a dark yellow color. It was parked up down the block, just behind his Pontiac.

Ignoring Junebug's nonsensical questions, Fontaine turns to Big Moss, who holds a handheld fan to his face, "Yo' nigga, who car is that?" he points to the Pacer.

Big Moss looks over, squinting a bit, "Ain't that yo' honey's, mane?"

"Ma' honey?" Fontaine made a face, clearly the only person lost here. "The fuck you on?"

The rest of the gang around made sour faces, some clearing their throats and turning at the suddenly uncomfortable conversation, attempting to nosily mind their businesses. "Not no mo', I guess," Big Moss says, awkwardly. Clearing his throat, "It's cool mane."

"The fuck--" Fontaine's interrupted.

"You and (y/n) ain't together no mo'?" Junebug looks disheartened. "What you do?"

"Ya'll niggas crazy, I ain't know no bitch named (y/n)--"

"Fonnie..." a gentle whisper in his ear startles him. A woman leans in close to him, he feels her hands drag up the side of his torso and up his chest from behind, hugging him close for just a second...

He turns quick.

His eyes instinctually cut to the yellow Pacer at the corner of the street as he finds no one to blame behind him. "Crazy..." he repeats, maybe about himself.

Fontaine decides to get in his car, driving to the liquor store. He buys a lotto and a routine bottle of Anaconda Malt Liquor. As he unscrews the cap, taking a swig, he hopes for a buzz or a sense clarity that never hits him, maybe it was time for something a little stronger.

He scratches the lotto, and the same outcome taunts him back with a 'You Lose' in bold. Tossing it to the ground, he walks back towards his car, coming up towards Frog, the homeless old man that always had some riddle to say. And he didn't disappoint. "Lovin' n' holdin an' they just takin' n' stealin', ey youngblood?" Frog says, holding up the styrofoam cup as Fontaine pours a good bit of the liquor to his cup.

"Yeah, Frog," Fontaine sighs, used to the nonsensical jabber. "Yeah."

Leaning up against the side of his car, he takes a drink, before reaching into his pocket, pulling out the chain he'd found in his bedroom earlier. He brings it up to look closely, in some way he recognized it, but not enough to recognize it as something he'd worn in the past few days or even months.

As he holds the chain, he notices a smear of red along his finger, rubbing his thumb at the stain on the silver, rubbing off the red. He stares at it on his fingers, he recognizes it to be lipstick, a soft red shade.

Even more confused, he huffs out a breath, but he holds the chain tight in his grip, trying to think of any moment in time that he could've possibly been given it, or anyone that could've left it. He hadn't let anyone in his house in a while, let alone his bedroom, the last woman he had slept with had been...fuck when was the last time he'd gotten laid?

For some reason, he was convinced it wasn't as long ago as he thought.

He gets in his car, driving back towards home.

That's when he catches sight of someone. At the end of the street, a black man in a white sweatshirt limps down the road, his chest stained with red. He's on his knees, curling his arms around someone, dragging the person onto their feet, but they're limp in his grip, dead. A woman, jeans wet with blood and knit sweater falling off her shoulders torn and smeared with red. She's pretty, gorgeous even, from what he can see from here.

The man struggles to stand to his feet with her again, his shoulders shake from the effort or from the angry sobs that wracked through him. Fontaine can see that every movement is agony, he watches as the man hacks up a mouthful of blood. He'd been shot too.

As he hacks up a lungful, the man's eyes flicker up to see Fontaine driving past. They look at one another.

And for a moment, Fontaine sees himself. Literally. His hair, his eyes, his clothes even which he was wearing at this current moment. He forgets he's still pressing on the gas when he loses sight of him.

Fontaine stomps on the brake, stopping the car, he looks to the rearview mirror, quick. When did he start breathing so heavy? It had to just be a coincidence, just a trick of light or of his mind. That can't be him.

Interrupting his thoughts, a black van drives into the area, nearly clipping the Pontiac as it swerves around the corner and towards the couple.

"NO, NO, Nooo! NO!" the man even sounds like him..."Get the fuck away from us! Get the fuck off--! No!" he's cut off by the slamming of the car doors, muffling his screams and driving off quick.

All that's left of them is the red stain against the cement.

As he makes it home, trying his best to forget about the strange event, Fontaine pockets the chain he forgot he was still clutching.

He makes a sandwich, cutting it in half, he walks to his mother's door and knocks, "Mama, you hungry?"

She answers. "Nah, I'm good, baby. Josephine had a fish fry last night, I'm still full."

He walks away from the door, covering the plate for later and making another sandwich. He must've blanked out because next thing he knows he's making two new peanut butter sandwiches, cutting the crusts off one of them absently. Slowly stopping, he places the knife down, confused with himself.

He takes one of the sandwiches, sits down on the couch and turns on the TV. As a poorly filmed commercial starts, he swipes his malt liquor off the table and takes a swig. "--Gon getcha summa dis here limited-time-only Hotbox Spicy Chicken! Cause remember, who needs all these vices when you've got all these herbs and spices--" the narrator continues as folks dance after every bite.

A commercial he's seem about a hundred times, before another came on about perm cream.

Fontaine zoned out, chewing silently on his sandwich, wondering why everything seemed so off today. Who was (y/n)? Did he just imagine seeing himself today? Who's fucking chain was this?!

He tosses the chain across the table, it hits a box of pizza that halts its slide to the floor.

That's when he noticed the pizza box at the table, eyes narrowing as he quickly thought of someone. Slick Charles. "Motherfucka'..." he stands and takes his keys off the hook.

---

"You saw me, what?"

"Die, muhfucka!" Slick Charles repeats with an agitated yell. "I saw you and yo honey!"

This is the second time someone mentioned his 'honey'.

"I'm clearly not dead, nigga, where's my money?"

"There are more pressing issues to discuss here, nigga!" Slick Charles backs away from Fontaine, looking around his chest for bullet holes, anything to declare the man, undead. "Look if you don't believe me, we'll get, Yo-yo! She'll know, she done lef' around the time you came in, alrigh'?!"

Fontaine glared at the pimp, before rolling his eyes and exiting the hotel to make his way to his car, Slick Charles following. For some reason, his mind drifted to earlier that morning, seeing the couple, covered in blood and dying on the street.

Finding Yo-Yo about to sell some ass for a $50, they interrupt the transaction, getting the sassy prostitute in the car, clad in a fur coat and yellow boots, she sneers at them both. "Ya'll owe me, 50!"

Fontaine gets to the point, hushing the woman. "I need to ask you somethin'," he begins. "You seen me?" he asks, tentatively, almost in a whisper. Asking meant admitting to some degree that he thought he was actually dead and had come back. In some way, that would explain his very realistic nightmare.

"Not like that, nigga..."

"Nah, I mean...you seen me?" he questioned again, quieter this time, serious.

"Yes, nigga, I saw you," Yo-Yo admits, truthfully. "And wasn't (y/n) witchu? I ain't seen her, she ight?"

Slick Charles leaned back in his seat, remembering seeing the young woman in the car before the shoot out started. "Aw no," he whispered.

Fontaine glanced back at the pimp, confused and angry. "Who the fuck ya'll talkin' bout, man? Who's (y/n)?!" he hits the steering wheel, tired of the day, and the dumb shit that's been getting to him lately. "What bitch ya'll think I'm fuckin' with, huh!"

"Well ain't she give you that?" Yo-Yo pointed to the chain on his neck. The cross he had tossed and decided to take with him, he had just absently put it on, almost out of instinct.

"You know who's this is?" Fontaine held the cross up to her face.

"Uh, yeah, nigga, what's wrong wit you?" she gives him a distasteful look.

"Who?!"

"(y/n)!"

"You--"

Slick Charles slaps down a polaroid photo on the console divider, "So you tryna tell me, you don't remember her?"

Fontaine looks down, choosing to ignore the change in tone, Slick Charles has his pointer finger in the middle of an unfamiliar photo, he picks it up. The car is dead silent now as he holds it up to his face, luckily he had parked under a street lamp, providing him a little light to see.

Fontaine's eyes widen as he sees her fully for the first time. (Y/N).

They're frozen in time in the photo, in a paused state of a love he couldn't remember. She presses a smooth kiss to the side of his face, he wraps an around around her waist, pulling her into his lap, his expression was softer than normal despite a lack of a smile. But he wasn't looking at his lips, but the way he'd leaned into her, held her close, he'd never done that before, always keeping his distance from any actual relationship that he recalled in his life.

So this was (y/n)?

He felt he would've remembered someone like her. Why didn't he?

"Remember 'er now?" Slick Charles asked.

"I'm gon' need you to tell me what exactly you saw last night," Fontaine's eyes flickered to Yo-Yo, he's gratefully for how dark it is, he had a feeling now that he had seen her today, drove past her, let someone take her away. What the hell was going on?

---

There was an elevator that led down under the Glen, this tiny town was somehow apart of an entire experiment, for what? He didn't know.

But, it seemed to involve him. Involve you. And involve all the people of The Glen. And if he wanted to know why he seemed to have died late last night, he needed to find out what exactly was going on.

Luckily, he had some help, although he would've preferred a smarter duo, he was stuck with them.

As Slick Charles held his gold gun up to the pale-skinned scientist with a clean shaven afro, giggling and spasming seemingly uncontrollably, Fontaine made his way around the lab.

Yo-Yo began to mess with a few of the strange sets of chemicals within the lab, taking notice of the lack of experimental subjects: like mice or even rabbits, nothing. She tipped a beaker, blew on the white dust, she supposed was cocaine and swirled a bit of a blue liquid in a test tube.

Fontaine found two surgical tables, blue sheets over each figure that seemed to lay atop the metal slabs. Not a single breath moved through the sheets, nothing to signify either one was alive.

He moved one sheet first, it was you. (Y/N)...

And everything suddenly started flooding back in waves.

"Wake up..." she breathes, tapping his cheek as she yawns against his chest.

"I'm awake..." he responds, tiredly.

"No, you're not," she grumbles, before sitting up a little. The movement coaxes him awake, his arm pulling around her shoulders tighter to get her to lay back down.

"Be quiet," he pulls her down on him, she chuckles, conceding.

He scoffs out a humored hum, turning over her, they drift off for another hour or so, awakening to kiss the other. He's leaning over her, the chain she had given him, swinging in front of her face, hanging off his neck.

Fontaine notices it, taking it off in that moment and placing it on the dresser, "No, hey, that keeps you safe," you protest as he moves to shift between your legs. "Don't take it off, Fonnie."

"Yeah, well right now, it's distractin'," he squeezes your thigh, bringing one of your legs over his right shoulder. "I'll put it on later, if you're so worked up bout it."

"Ok, ohh--k, yeah..." he presses a kiss to your inner thigh, letting you take hold of a handful of his locs, your nails running through his scalp in a way that just told him to keep going. "Fon'..." you gasp as he cups the skin of your ass to move down lower, greedily.

After another hour of consuming the presence of one another for the morning, you both move through the day as you usually would. Fontaine would bench press a few reps with guys, you would start making campaign flyers for the protests during the week. He'd leave with Junebug later unbeknownst to you and deal with an amateur dealer that made the dumb decision to sell on his side of the streets. When he comes back, Fontaine and you would head to the store together, he'd get his usual Anaconda Malt Liquor and you'd usually go for a Moscato if not a pack of swedish fish. Pass by Frog for another daily lesson in senile obscurity and pour him a cup.

Heading back home, they'd have breakfast together, sometimes you'd make eggs and bacon, other times Fontaine would make the only thing he really knew how to which were peanut butter sandwiches. You hated the crusts, so he'd always cut them for you. You'd call him soft and he'd sit pause mid-way to let you finish yourself in bitter defiance, to which you'd quickly take back your statement. "Wait, wait, I'm kidding," you laughed. "Come on, finish, you cut them the best! Fonnie!"

"That's all you, baby," he took a bite of his. "All you."

"No, I'm sorry, please, please," you begged, wrapping your arms around him to pull him back to the kitchen. "Come on, Fonnie--"

"How many times I gotta tell you to stop wit' that, Fonnie shi', huh?"

"But I thought you liked it when I called you, Fonnie?" you teased with a smile.

"Fonnie sounds like a bitch, I ain't no bitch."

"You're my bitch though," you cackled.

"Whatchu say?" he turned, surprised at the answer. And you took off running. "Naw, bitch, get your ass back here, whatchu say!"

"Nothing!" You laughed as you ran through the house away from him. "I'm sorry!" you put your hands up as he grabbed at you, the two of you soon enough laughing together.

"Getch your ass back here!"

Later in the day, Fontaine recalls the customer dealings of his business, remembering that Slick Charles still owed him a pay day since last week. Fontaine got to his feet, took his keys, and you accompanied him into the pontiac, tapping the insignia on the hood of your Pacer car parked behind.

Driving off, the two of you enjoyed a moment with each other, you leaned over the console between you both, singing to the song on the radio. "I need a hug...I need a hug..." you nuzzled your face against his shoulder.

"You need to be quiet," he snickered, emphasizing 'Need', glancing over to you as he drove, one hand on the wheel, the other on your thigh, and you just kept at it.

He finally parked up by The Royal, a hotel across The Glen, where he knew Slick Charles would be. "Stay here," Fontaine said before leaving the car.

You roll down the window, sticking your head out to wave towards the pimp as your boyfriend forces his way into the hotel room. "Hi, Slick!"

"(Y/n)! Why you ain't tell yo' violent ass nigga to show some goddamn muhfuckin' respect!" he yells mostly towards Fontaine, who glowers at him in return, threatening to punch him right in the grills if he don't keep his mouth shut.

You duck back into the car, choosing to let the two men figure their shit out, instead opening the windscreen, watching as a photo fell out to your lap. A little picture of the two of you, you recalled the day, you'd only been officially together for a few months at the time, but you were happier than ever.

Looking up you take notice of another photo, of Ronnie, you had never met the boy, but you had always wished to, knowing what had happened to the sweet kid, always made your heart clench with tears. You pressed two fingers to your lips and to the still frame of Ronnie, breathing sadly, in some way you felt you knew him, maybe had met him, caught glimpses of him in the street when you were younger.

A beep is heard, startling you to drop the polaroid of you and Fontaine, it slips between the seats and you curse, "Shit, ugh," you glare back at the car that had stopped behind the Pontiac, before driving driving again. "Motherfucker!" You sneered at the driver, who just kept his windows up, music blasting, glass shrouded in smoke.

Fontaine soon returned to the car, pocketing the fraction that Slick Charles had made, not enough to fully pay him back though. "You ready?"

"Yeah, I--" then you saw the same car rolling backwards, coming to a slow park just behind the trunk. But, it was the man walking up to Fontaine's side of the window that really terrified you. "Fon--!"

He turns a little too late, "GET DOWN!" just pulling out his gun when the window shatters, the car being layered with bullets, the young man on the other side frantically emptying the clip. The click of an empty magazine is the only thing left to hear besides the bass drum of the radio of the assaulting vehicle.

The young man stumbles backwards, stuffing the weapon into his shirt and racing into the car for a getaway, as the car speeds off from the scene, Fontaine takes a shuttered breath. Blood spilling from between his lips, his hand achingly coming up to feel the holes that had ripped straight through him.

"(Y/n)..." he heaved out, he turns his head as much as he can, every movement a strain on his failing organs. "(y/n)..." he said again, hoping you'd say anything. "Say somethin'," he huffs out, panicked. Say you're ok. "Say it..." he breathes. "Say it..." he repeats as he struggles to breathe, hoping he'd live a little longer to get some fucking help.

He reaches for you, his fingers inching towards yours, but you were already gone.

And then that's when the van comes around. A few men, white guys in black suits wrapped in plastic, gloved hands and unbothered looks as they swing open the car door. "Woah, he's still alive," Fontaine hears one of them say. "Do we still take him?"

Who the fuck were they?

Obviously they weren't police, or ER, or even some random passerby's.

"Won't last long, so yeah," another says, opening up the opposite door. "Not sure about this one though." He was talking about you, Fontaine was sure.

Fontaine blinked, blacking out a moment before breathing harshly once, as if his heart had stopped in that split second, he was somewhere else now. Suddenly, he had been hauled into the van.

"Guess we'll just have to wipe the next one till we can get a copy going, right?"

"Dunno, we've never had to do that before. Damn, this is going to be a lot of paperwork," the white guy sighs out before turning you in your seat, Fontaine finally gets a good look at you as he lays there trying to keep his eyes open. Your sweater was drenched in your blood, and probably a bit of his, the side of your face wet and broken up from the bullet through your temple. You had died as soon as it happened.

Fontaine felt his heart drop, blood filled his throat and he choked on the feeling, but he wasn't sure if it was from the heartache or the puncture. "...'er go..." he gurgled out, eliciting the attention of the disturbed men around him.

There was a pause. "Was that you or him?"

"Well, it wasn't me..." one of the collectors said.

"Let 'er go, muhfucker," Fontaine managed.

They had begun to drive, going around the corner and away from The Royal motel.

"Shit, he really is still alive," the white man gapped, but he still began to haul you out of the car. "We're not really supposed to talk to y--" then there was a gunshot.

Startling all of them as the man that had begun to unceremoniously strap you down to the metal, fell back and too his knees, silently. A bullet between the eyes. The van swerved in the mens sudden panic.

Fontaine had still had a hand on the handle of his gun all this time, the only issue had been getting the energy to pull the trigger. And he let his hand go around to pull again on the white man that moved to pry the gun from his grip, "No, stop!" the collector had shouted, but the gun went off again, this time right through his hip. "Ahh!"

"Oh, shit! Hey, get up!" picking his co-workers up off the floor, "Get the hell out of here, we'll send another unit!" the only uninjured stranger hauled the others into the van as Fontaine stumbles out of the car taking you with him, trying to get a locked eye on the last of them as they drive off and away from the scene as if they hadn't even been there.

And so, Fontaine sat on the curb for a moment, holding you tight, wondering if anyone else would try to just snatch them off the street again. He watched as the van drove off fast, he wondered why they had bothered to do all of that. To kidnap him off the street, as if they had known exactly who he was, where he would be and that he'd be shot. What did they mean by make a copy later?

Fontaine swayed, wondering how he had even lasted this long. He let his head settle against yours, he wished for the little snore of yours that would usually coax him to sleep. He recalled the first time you had fallen asleep against him, the first time he caught himself falling asleep next to you. Pretty much the first of any time he had let anyone catch him slipping.

And he waited for a single breath to slip from you, to bring him even a sliver of comfort.

But it never came.

Even in the early morning, when he found himself staring into the eyes of...himself? Driving by in the very same car that had been totaled to shit in the parking lot of The Royal motel.

Even when the same black van swept by, turning to haul the two of them up off the street and into the van. They don't let their guard down like the others, and he breathes for the last time in that van, holding tight to your hand, just before they pull you both apart.

- - -

It's not a memory that he can grasp onto, because it's not his to have. Just a copy of moments he's never lived.

And they flood his mind.

Fontaine leans over your dead body that laid on that cold slab of metal, the familiarity becoming knowing, absence of memory becomes an overflow of moments he knew he hadn't lived but he could still hold onto.

As the labs alarms go off, he takes you into his arms, ready to take you out of this horrible place, get you some place warm.

Something the previous version of him, hadn't been able to do. But, he was pulled to do the same as his previous self had tried for you.

"Come on, I got you," he spoke, miserably.

It was like speaking to a lover he had never had. But it was also like losing one he had never said goodbye to.

"Come on, please," Fontaine undid the straps, pulling the plastic sheet laid across your naked flesh. He shivered, you were cold, "I've got you," he stares down at the floor as he holds you in his arms. Memories still flooding his mind, sensations, sounds and feelings only a single version of him had experienced, and it wasn't him.

But he still knew he had loved you.

Slick Charles and Yo-Yo pull him from the lab, the alarm sounding loudly, meaning whoever owned this place would be on their way, forced to leave you on that metal slab, next to the original version of himself.

Fontaine was on that elevator. But, a piece of himself stayed down there, and he'd be back to find it again.

"Believe us now?" Slick Charles spoke the question almost sympathetically.

#fontaine #fontaine x reader #they cloned tyrone #they cloned tyrone x reader #fontaine x black reader #black reader #x black fem reader #they cloned tyrone fontaine #fontaine x black!f!reader #fontaine x f!reader

212 notes · View notes

slippinninque · 6 months

Text

Fontaine the Handy Man

Being welcomed in your home will stoke curiosity. He will have a determination to make sure shit is Good™️ and that will lead him to being very good at fixing shit.

It starts with cabinets that won't close all the way, or maybe even a draft that needed patching. Little things at first!

It helps a lot that you show appreciation and get all excited over the smallest improvement. It felt good to both of you, the gentle push and pull of thoughtfulness and gratitude.

THEN this dude goes full Bob The Builder (Or Fontaine the Foine-Ass Fixer, as you started calling him) and soon cracked tiles are replaced, the water pressure is heavenly, and your back porch light finally stopped shaking when turned on.

Like, imagine you coming home after work and seeing this dude fixin' up a bookcase you even forgot you had.

I mean blunt blazin', tank wearing, arms are arming as he kneels to measures and hammer. You pause in the hallway to soak in the sight.

"C'mere, Pretty." He crooks his fingers for you to come closer and after a few kisses, you find yourself sitting next to him damn near kicking your feet in the air as he asked about your day.

I dunno 🤭I think Fontaine would make sure you're well taken care of and he would have talented hands as a result.

#this is so silly #but i had an image of fontaine trying to figure out the issue with the fridge light in nothing but some long socks and a durag #fontaine #fontaine thoughts #they cloned tyrone x reader #they cloned tyrone #fontaine headcanon

34 notes · View notes

melaninpov · 4 months

Text

John Boyega in Mens Health

1K notes · View notes

sageispunk · 3 months

Text

Drown in It (18+)

pairing: Fontaine x black! reader (1.1k words)

summary: He makes you squirt on his face. That's it.

warnings: no specific gender/size/shape mentioned, reader has a vagina, fontaine refers to reader as "ma" and "baby", cunnilingus, fingering, teasing, he bites reader once, the word 'daddy' is used once, overstimulation, squirting, multiple (2) orgasms and hint of more, kissing after head (lmk if i missed any!!)

You were laid back and spread out on the couch, eyes clamped shut and toes curled as your stomach began to tighten. Two of Fontaine’s thick fingers were deep inside you, pumping at a consistent pace to build you up to your peak. His other hand gently rested on the back of one of your thighs, keeping you folded up and open for him. “Open them eyes, ma..”

A whine escaped your throat at his words, your body felt too good to keep your eyes open but you knew better than to test him right now. You tilted your head and looked down at him, immediately enthralled by the look on his face. His eyes were dark, full of lust and intensely trained on you.

The way he stared at your soaked pussy as his fingers slid in and out put a hazy smile on your face. “Taine…” Your soft voice broke him out of the trance he was in, his eyes coming up to meet yours. He hummed in response, a teasing look beginning to spread across his face. “What’s wrong, baby?”

You opened your mouth to answer, and at the same time Fontaine crooked his fingers inside you, hitting your favorite spot. He chuckled as you choked on your words, your eyes and mouth widening in shock at his cruel teasing. His fingers began to speed up, causing you to lose your breath again, head falling back once again.

“Fuuuckkk..” That’s all you could say, over and over again, as he meticulously worked your body.

A hiss left your mouth as you felt a sharp pinch on your inner thigh, your eyes snapping back open, brows furrowed in confusion. “I told you to keep them eyes open.”

His voice was stern but slightly muffled as he pinched a bit of your thigh meat between his teeth. “Y-you bit me, you son of a–”

His fingers stilled. “And I’ll do it again if you ain’t gon’ listen.”

You pouted but complied, as best as you could. It was too good, his fingers in you, he kept you right there on the edge. Speeding up, slowing down, speeding up again, hitting that spot that was deep inside you only to back off of it again.

“Fuck, ma,” He stared at your cunt again, obviously entranced by the juices flowing out all over his hand. “So fuckin’ pretty…can I taste you, baby?”

You gathered the last bit of strength you had to nod, quickly, panting out a slow “pleaseeee,” which turned into a loud moan when you felt his tongue on your lips.

He didn’t go slow. He licked you like he was starved, maneuvering around his fingers to suck up all the wetness you had to offer him. Butterflies fluttered around in your stomach as you listened to the way he moaned and slurped into your pussy, it was one of the most debauched things you’d ever experienced.

Fontaine’s lips wrapped around your clit and he sucked, matching the rhythm he kept with his fingers. This time, you felt a stronger sensation building within your tummy. Your eyes were low and your mouth hung open as you focused on the man that was currently on his knees, eating you like his life depended on it.

“Taine, fuck, please…” Your legs shook and your hips bucked the closer you became. His grip on your thigh tightened, keeping you in place as he devoured you. “Please what?” His voice was gruff, the vibrations sending a chill through your body.

“I’m s-so close, daddy, pleaseee..” In the haze of your quickly approaching release, you didn’t even realize what you called him, but the title spurred him on. “Shit, baby, you gon’ cum for me?”

With your bottom lip between your teeth and your low and focused on him, you nodded. He quickly replaced his mouth on you, his fingers notching up to your spot, this time with no plan to slow down. Your moans and cries filled his ears as he pushed you to the edge, ready to take everything that you were willing to give him.

“Oh shit, oh fuck, oh goddddd..” Your body shook, quivering above Fontaine, within his grasp. Eyes clamped shut once again, not caring if he punished you for it, you let out noises you didn’t even know you could make. He sighed into your pussy, lapping up and swallowing down your juices with fervor.

When the initial wave passed, your body relaxed a bit but only for a moment, before you realized that Fontaine wasn’t finished yet.

He continued his ministrations, ignoring your gentle shoves at his head. “Baby, please, I can’t..” Your pleasure was beginning to turn into overstimulation and you could feel another peak coming.

Fontaine growled into your folds, not letting up whatsoever. His fingers slid out of you, both hands now tightly gripping your hips as he began to pull another strong orgasm out of you with his tongue and lips. This one felt different, there was more pressure built up in your lower tummy, almost like you had to pee.

“Fuck, Taine, I can’t, I’m gonna fuckin–” A scream left your mouth as you came again, warm liquids spraying out of your pussy right into his mouth. You nearly blacked out, with your body tensing and shaking at the same time and your eyes rolling back into your head.

“Mhmm mhmmm,” He groaned, sloppily sucking up every last drop. His warm tongue slowly swiped up your folds, coming back to clit and tracing gentle circles around the swollen bud. He landed a few kisses onto your pussy, whispering little curses and praises in between.

After a few moments, you managed to gather yourself, sitting up a little and opening your eyes. In front of you sat Fontaine in his white tee, looking at you with a certain look on his face, a smirk gracing his glistening lips while your juices soaked in his beard.

“What?” You rasped out, feeling just a tiny bit self-conscious under his dark gaze. He still had you spread out in front of you, looking down at your pulsing cunt every few seconds.

Fontaine shook his head and chuckled, sitting up on his knees to get closer to you. He released his grip on your thighs, allowing you to sit up as well. “You so fuckin’ sexy,” His voice was deep, and raspy, already stirring up something deep within your tired body. “Imma have some fun witchu tonight.”

And when he put his hand on the back of your neck to bring your faces together, allowing you to taste yourself all over his lips, you knew that you were far from being done cumming for the night.

#been working on this all day had to take a few breaks shsbdjdh #fontaine x black reader #fontaine #fontaine x reader #fontaine x you #they cloned tyrone #black reader #smut

593 notes · View notes

henneseyhoe · 4 months

Text

Still Mine.

Tyrone x BLACK!FEM!Reader

WARNINGS: Tyrone being a slut, baby daddy drama, smutty flashback, slight daddy kink, unprotected sex(wrap it before you smack it!), abortion mentioned, pill mentioned, baby trapping, short, tad bit unedited.

SUMMARY: During Tyrone’s weekly pickup of his daughter, he tries to make his baby mama fold.

Ps. This was originally SO much longer but I didn’t like the way some parts were written so I cut it in half lolzzz

✮✮✮✮

“You know if I licked it, it’s mine, right?”

Your face twisted into a mug at Tyrone’s words while packing a diaper bag with all the necessary things your daughter needed for the weekend with him.

“Tyrone, please don’t start with that tonight” You couldn’t believe the extents he’d go just because you were seeing other people, it was crazy! Tyrone didn’t see it that way though.

The man was a tyrant. A danger to society and other men when he suspects you fucking with somebody who wasn’t him. Every single time he found out, he would let you know that you had limited days with that nigga, which he was always right about.

They’d either disappear completely or simply just stop responding to your texts.

One time you saw one of them at the grocery store and tried to say hi but he ran the other way, even left his cart stacked with groceries. You wondered what the hell was going on, and why they were so scared, but you knew there was only one person that could have them running for the hills like that, and it wasn’t you.

“I’m not startin’ shit, I’m speakin’ facts. You playin’, knowing them niggas ain’t shit compared to me”

Though the statement was true, it was bold of him to assume you wasn’t getting any good play. It was rare you did, but still! It’s the audacity.

You look at Tyrone up and down before bursting into laughter, making the infant besides you both slightly jump in her pack and play, looking around in confusion before flipping over on her stomach, a skill she just learned.

“Oop- I’m sorry, mama” You apologize to her, the baby just rolling back over and blinking up at you with a tether in her mouth. “Now, back to yo’ delusional ass!”

You thanked god the small child wasn’t old enough to understand words because she would have been cursing like a sailor by now. Pointing at Tyrone with the acrylic nails he paid for, that same signature mean look on his face that he always wore when somebody had him fucked up, you squint.

“Ain’t shit yours, and it hasn’t been yours since about a year now”

Tyrone sucks his teeth, still not believing anything you were saying to him.

“You shittin’ me, it’s always gon be mine!”

“Says who?! You crazy” You blow him off with the wave of your hand, zipping the diaper bag up and handing it to him.

He grabs it, then drops it to his feet without a care, crossing his arms. You look at him with a confused expression, your eyebrow cocked upwards.

“Why you like playin’ wit’ me?” He questioned while straight faced, but you stood your ground, unlike when you use to submit under him and his tone when you two were together. Truthfully, you use to be a bit scared of the nigga. He never gave you a reason to be personally, but he was a hard shell to crack, you rarely knew if he was happy or sad until he said something to steer you in a certain direction.

“Tyrone, quit playing and find you something safe to do, aight?” You fired back, challenging him. He moved not one inch. You knew he wasn’t scared of you at all, so this was no surprise, but you wasn’t gonna take him treating you like this in your own damn house.

“How many niggas you fucked since we broke up, Y/N?”

You shrug. “However many I wanted. I dunno, I wasn’t counting”

“Okay” He nods slowly, putting you on edge just a tad bit. You hum and study his reaction. He only did that when he had some shit up his sleeve. A simple answer, then a nod before he did or said some fuck shit. “And if I find them niggas and suddenly they stop callin’, then what?” Nothing he hasn’t done before.

“One less problem for me. You already pack up enough niggas in the glen anyway. Can’t kill ‘em all!” You giggle childishly after gaining your composure again, but as you found humor, the man stayed oh so serious.

“Oh, you’d be surprised at what a nigga can do now”

“Lemme guess, you learned to read a no loitering sign? Or maybe a no trespassing one?” You continued to joke, him finding nothing funny, as usual.

“You think you so funny” He warns, but you brush him off again, picking the diaper bag up and handing it to him again, this time forcing it in his hands to keep it there.

“I’m fuckin’ hilarious, nigga. better ask bout me”

Tyrone rolls his eyes.

“…so you really tellin’ me youn miss me?”

You turn and walk away to ignore the man further, side eyeing him as he followed. “Get out my face, Ty”

“Stop playin…so youn miss how I use to beat that pussy till you cry?” He spoke, getting closer to your ear so you could hear every syllable there. See, if this was a year and some change ago, you would have folded yourself in on a couch and put your legs to the sky faster than a pin could drop, but you had a point to prove.

You inched away from him to your kitchen, but he followed behind like a hungry shark that smelled blood.

“Let daddy dig that pussy out again, baby. You know I do it better than any other nigga”

Just with those few words, it had you thinking of flashbacks, your eyes fighting off a roll inwards. You knew the power he held in those boxers, you knew all too well what he was capable of. When Tyrone got to the pussy, he made sure he wasn’t playing no games. The man would even pull your bed from the wall everytime he came over so nobody in your moms house could hear how hard he was beating it up, talking dirty to you like you was a random bitch from the club, and that was your favorite part. That’s how you got into this mess anyway. Stuck with him and a tiny human who stole your face.

✮✮✮✮

Tyrone was definitely a man of threats, but he had never fallen through with any of the non-violent ones till this.

As Tyrone bucked his hips wildly into you, your leg began to quiver in his hold. You had thanked the gods that he had opted to lay you down on your side instead of fucking you standing up like he loved to do. You were sure your legs would have gave out by now if you were upright.

“Imma nut in this pussy, baby. Can daddy nut in this pussy? You want daddy to get you pregnant?”

He asks, and you nodded gladly like a dummy. Whatever the female version of pussy whipped was, you were definitely long past it. Even in that moment, you thought he wasn’t serious about the whole baby thing. He had never talked about one outside of sex, and you honestly thought he was against the entire idea of kids with the way he’d run junebug out of his presence when he’d do normal kid shit. He just didn’t seem serious.

Hell, you knew you weren’t serious about it. What would you do with a baby in this economy? Most importantly, how the fuck were you gonna care for it? You were only 21 and he was 24, had no business being together, but obviously he wasn’t the type to follow rules of any kind, or let you go.

The more he promised to get you pregnant, the harder y’all fucked until you were on top, riding him like there was a prize at the finish line you called an orgasm. Your hands were placed on his thighs behind you and your back was arched in as you spread your legs wide and bounced that ass on him, giving him the perfect opportunity to see himself slip in and out of you.

“Shit…shit! I’m bout to cum!” He shouts while panting, a few groans exiting his mouth.

“Fuuuck! I’m bout to nut, bae!” You heard him announce once again, but that wasn’t what set off alarms in your head, it was when he held you down and continued thrusting upwards into your wetness, making you leak. You whimper and shout, toes curling into the mattress.

“Shit! Lemme get up, Ty!” You tap his hands, trying to get them off of your hips so you could move, but he continues to bounce you with his fingers gripping you tightly, bound to leave a mark. “Tyrone! lemme get up, please!” You shout with urgency, but it had already been too late. By the time you rose up off of his dick, he had been pumping out the last bit of his seed, the small amount just sliding down the shaft of his dick. That’s when you knew you fucked up. Tyrone was a shooter in more ways than one, but when it came to cumming, he was damn near like a loaded gun. You’d have to squeeze your eyes shut when giving him head because he liked to cum on your face, and the first time he did, he almost blinded you with how far he came, literally.

“My god…” You breathed harshly, looking down at his dick begin to soften.

When it was all said and done, you asked him for money for a plan B, but lo and behold, he already had a pill prepared. Right in the glove compartment of his car is where he kept it and gave it to you when he came to see you the next day. But, as the weeks went by, you started to feel like that pill wasn’t much of a plan B, or at least not your “plan B”. It was definitely Tyrone’s though.

Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months, and nine of those later, you were popping out a little girl with a full head of hair and features just like yours. If you told somebody you made the baby alone, they’d probably believe you with how much you two looked alike. You were pissed off your entire pregnancy at Tyrone, but that didn’t stop you from loving your baby, you just couldn’t bring yourself to get rid of her either, though the process wasn’t foreign to you. If the “plan B” didn’t take her out, then who says she wasn’t meant to be here? But, with that being said, as you came closer to your due date, you grew farther from Tyrone while he was trying to keep you close, you even moved out of the glen and into a whole ‘nother town over.

He was there through your entire pregnancy, or at least tried when you weren’t trying to kill him for getting into stupid shit and almost dying, but because he was still so supportive and caring for you, checking up on how both you and the baby were doing, you cut him some slack, letting him name the bouncing baby girl. He went with the name ‘Autum’ because you two met in autumn, to your surprise he even remembered that since it had been so long ago.

Fast forward five months later, y’all were still beefing on and off over stupid shit. You would curse him out over scaring away new friends and or lovers, he’d ignore it and continue, working extra hard to make sure all them niggas knew who he was. Oh, Tyrone was on a mission, and he would not be ignored by some lame nigga you wanted to fuck, or ignored by you.

✮✮✮✮

#fontaine x black reader #john boyega smut #x black oc #black oc #smut masterlist #masterlist #black!fem! reader #black!reader #black reader #black writer #black fanfiction #john boyega #they cloned tyrone fanfic #they cloned tyrone smut #tyrone x reader #smutty #henneseyhoe

499 notes · View notes

ssaluv-a-lot · 7 months

Text

Woke up at 2 am thinking about this…

A/N: This might be the best thing Ive ever done. 18 plussss, deadass. No Minors 💁🏽‍♀️ Grown ppl enjoy.

Oh shit…You should be home right now. You should be home in bed with your man but instead you were out and tipsy and yet the thought of Fontaine pulling up to air the place out was enough to sober you up. On wobbly legs, you carried yourself out of the club and fished your phone out your purse.

4 missed calls, 2 FaceTimes, and hella text messages. You were so fucked.

It wasn’t even a full second after you pressed the screen to call him back that you heard the bass boosted rnb coming from his Pontiac. Then it was his rumbling engine and beaming headlights that swung around the corner.

Fontaine didn’t even wait until the car was rightfully parked before he climbed out and stalked towards you, scowl permanently etched onto his features.

“Baby, i’m so fucking sorry.” You reached out for him, grabbing hold of his jacket.

He pried your hands from his jacket and grumbled a stern. “Get in the car.”

“Fontaine!” You whined, tripping over your heels to grab him again.

“Get in the fuckin car! I ain’t playin wit you!” He shouted, gripping your arm up and forcing you towards the vehicle while you continued to apologize.

He climbed into the driver’s seat with a huff as you buckled your own seatbelt.

The drive was silent and the tension thick. You knew that once you got home, he would be on you about staying out late, getting drunk without a ride. The whole nine yards on safety.

You didn’t even need to mention the fact that every one knew you were his girl and that so much as a flirty comment would get them in big trouble.

The car rumbled to a stop in front of your home and a heavy sigh released itself from Fontaine’s chest.

“When we get in that house, ion wanna hear shit about how sorry you are. Ion give a fuck. You get your ass up to that room and wait.”

You nodded your head as a shiver tingled at your spine. Then, his rough hand was gripping your cheeks, tilting your head every which way.

“Nobody touched you up in there right? You ain’t hurt?” He loosened his grip as it seemed you went untouched as long as you were out.

“No..” A smile crept across your glossy lips as you realized he wasn’t really mad at you, just worried since you didn’t answer his calls

“Don’t lie to me just cause you think I’m already pissed.”

“No, Fontaine. Nobody did anything. I just danced and shit.”

The man sucked his teeth as he climbed out of the car, going around the front to open your door.

Once inside the house, you wasted no time getting up stairs and sitting on the bed as his heavy foot steps followed.

“Strip outta them clothes.” He ordered as the bedroom door clicked shut behind him and he kicked off his shoes.

You scrambled out of your top, tossing it somewhere. Out of your bra, tossing it someplace else. And then, you fumbled with your skirt before it pooled at your feet, leaving you in your panties, looking up at him as he loomed over you.

“Now how come when you think you getting some dick, you can listen to me but when I tell you to come home before midnight, you ain’t got a damn clue?”

“I-“ The words got stuck in your throat as he aired you out.

“Hm.” Fontaine scoffed, shrugging off his bomber and pulling his hoodie over his head, leaving him in his gold chain and a pair of low hanging sweats. “Hands and knees.”

“Fontaine!” You whined. “Please?”

“Nah come on. Don’t make me fix you my self.”

You huffed as you turned yourself into the position and pressed your body into the sheets. The impact came almost instant, the burning sting as he cracked a palm to your right ass cheek.

Your eyes squeezed shut as a yelp caught in your throat. Another resounding smack to your ass as he mumbled to himself. Something about you tripping and acting like you ain’t know better.

His monologue must’ve really started to piss him off because the next impact of his calloused hands had you gripping the sheets as a squeal released from your mouth.

“M sorry, Taine..” You mumbled, turning your head to look back at him as he stroked your burning skin.

“Mhmm.” Another crack of his palm against and then he was pulling at your panties, tugging them down to the fold of your knees as a finger slipped between your legs and through your slickened folds. “All that complaining and you wet any damn way.”

Your brows knitted together as he swiped his fingers across your pussy, brushing your clit and circling your entrance, then back up to your clit to rub firm circles into the bud.

“Fontaine..” It came out breathy and pleading as you relished in the pressure being released. “Fuck..feels good.”

“Yeah?” He hummed, squatting down to get a better look at your actively sopping pussy, wet and waiting to be filled.

The sight was marveling, almost making him forget what he was supposed to be doing. Your whimpers were music to him as he drew them out of you with rougher circles to your clit.

He brought his mouth to your ass, sucking and biting at the sensitive skin as you squirmed against him.

“F-fuck..baby! I’m close!” Your jaw dropped as the knot in your belly tightened up. You arched into the bed, ready for it to hit you any second.

At the last moment, Fontaine withdrew his fingers with a dark groan, leaving you squirming and pushing your ass back against him for more.

As the realization dawned, tears pricked your eyes.

“No! Daddy please! I-I wanna come!”

“You gonna wait. Just like you made me wait up for you.” He pressed another kiss to your ass and raised to his feet.

“But-“ Your words were cut as he wrapped a hand around the front of your neck and pulled you up to rest on your knees. His lips slotted against yours, his tongue dipping in and invading your mouth sloppily.

His grip on your neck tightened as he took your plump bottom lip between his gold teeth with a growl. “You know I love you right?”

“Yeah. Love you too,” Fontaine released your neck and you could hear the fabric of his sweats as he tugged them down along with his boxers, letting his hard erection spring free.

He pressed a hand to the small of your back, creating an arch that propped your ass up just how he liked it. Carefully, he dragged his blunt tip across your wet folds, tapping it against your clit until you shuddered and your toes curled in anticipation.

He pushed into your clenching center with a groan as he adjusted his hands to your hips and your face dropped into the pillow. “Fuck..” Fontaine tugged his sweats a little lower as you mewled into your pillows.

His thrusts started slow, drawing out to the tip and easing in to his hips until he was coated in your arousal. “You good?” He asked, fully sheathed.

“Uh huh.” You spared him a weak nod and he took that as his go ahead, catching a rhythm as he drilled into you.

His nails digging into your hips so you didn’t try to run. Your mouth permanently slack jawed as he hit that spot that made you see stars.

“Must’ve been out ya mind, baby.” Fontaine huffed. “Making me have to drive up there like that..”

“Ooh daddy..” You threw your ass back to meet his hips with eagerness, your orgasm crawling up your spine and making your head a little foggy.

“Mhmm. Ignoring my fuckin calls.” He cracked a palm against your ass, making you yelp and push back into him.

The dull smack of your skins colliding as he drove his dick into your greedy pussy was all you could hear. All the shit he was talking went in deaf ears.

“Fuck, Fontaine! Shiiit!” Your eyes rolled back as your orgasm rolled over you, your hands turning pale as you gripped the sheets tightly.

“That’s it.” He kept fucking you through it, not letting up no matter how much you whined about it being too much. “Keep taking that dick..”

A sticky white ring formed around the base of his cock, making the already slippery task of staying inside you, that much harder.

“I got half a mind to never let you out again..”

“Mmm..no, wait.” You whispered as he angled his thrusts to brush against your spot again. You felt yourself building up again, only the pressure felt heavier and much stronger. “F-Fontaine!”

You attempted to press a hand to his abdomen to slow his thrusts and allow you a minute to relax but your shaky hand was slapped away.

“Actin like you ain’t got no fuckin sense.” He pressed into your back a little harder, angled his hips deeper. “I feel that shit. You gonna soak me baby?”

“I-I Ahh!” Your pussy clenched him tight, keeping him right where he was as you squirted onto the sheets with a scream. Your legs shivering and body shaking as he marveled at the sight.

“Fuuck.” He pulled out of you with a soft smile, rubbing his wet dick through your swollen folds, spreading the substance across your thighs. “You trynna do that again?”

#black writers #x black reader #black reader #john boyega #fontaine #fontaine x black reader #smut #they cloned tyrone #they cloned tyrone smut

700 notes · View notes

megamindsecretlair · 6 months

Text

Have Mercy

A/N: Based on this ask. It contained porno links. Whoever you are, ya nasty and I love you. This is a bit of a deviation so I'm sorry if it wasn't what you pictured! Thank you for the support!

Pairing: Pornstar!Tyrone x Black!Shy!Fem!reader / Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. FILTH for nearly 5k words! PWP, cursing, PIV, oral (fem receiving), cum play, possession kink, size kink, dirty talk, degradation/praise kink, Daddy kink, orgasm denial, overstimulation, all consensual. Use of n-word. Disrespectful Tyrone. Drug use. Established friendship.

Summary: After a very steamy porn video by Tyrone, you can't help your curious questions as you hang out and discuss his work. You'd been too shy to ask before, but you're dying to know what it's like in person.

Word Count: 5,284k

A/N: I was just waiting on the right spark to answer this ask. And...look, you all know how fuckin' feral I am for Tyrone. It's not a surprise. I promise 5k words is worth it. This was so fuckin' hot to write. I hope you enjoy it! Please, please, consider leaving a comment or reblogging to help support writers. I can't get better with no feedback!

Taglist: @planetblaque @dayjlovesromance @sevikasblackgf @melaninpov @amyhennessyhouse @henneseyhoe @honeyoriginalz @justheretostan @black-fairy3 @superhoeva @jarfulloftears @hereformiles @montysstuffs @westside-rot @blackerthings @blowmymbackout @euphoric05 @miyuhpapayuh @nicolexnight @8ttached @judymfmoody @wakandas-vibranium @soft-persephone @justabovewater20 @notapradagurl7 @mcotton0928 @soapjay @heyauntieeee @theyscreamsannii @mybonafidefeelings

“Okay, but like…they just kind of sit there and…” You stopped talking and started jerking your hand. You looked across the hazy space towards Tyrone. He was laying across the bed and looked at you down the blunt he held to his mouth. The orange-red spark glinted and then dimmed as he pulled it out. He licked his lips and then blew out the smoke.

“Shit, ion know. I do this shit myself,” Tyrone said.

Tyrone passed the blunt and you grabbed it, bringing it to your lips and inhaling. You turned your head towards the ceiling, your eyes expanding. “So, you got a camera and microphones and shit?” You asked.

“Yeah,” Tyrone said and took the blunt from you. “Got to these days. If I’ma be rocking somebody’s shit, then everybody gon’ see it.” He brought the blunt to his lips and pulled on it.

You tried to picture it. Your head was so blessedly silent for once. You actually formed a thought and kept it. Tyrone on the bed, naked. Showing off ropes and ropes of thick muscle. Arms strong enough to break coconuts. Thighs begging to be ridden.

Your core heated up, a small tingle working up the back of your thighs. You bet he was the type to hold on and get to work. But you smirked at him and started to giggle.

“You always talk that shit, Ty,” you said. Your giggles kept going, making your stomach hurt. You flattened your hand on your stomach. “Don’t make me laugh! My tummy hurt!”

Tyrone stared at your high ass and smirked. Fuck. It took forever to make him laugh. Like the mu’fucka was born with ice down his throat. You longed to hear that rare, raspy laugh.

“I talk big ‘cuz my dick big,” he said and huffed out a chuckle. It was barely enough to call it a laugh.

The mention of his dick had you clenching your thighs. You’ve memorized the way Tyrone walked. He walked like he was swangin’ dick down there. Also, you’d never in a million years tell him, but you’ve seen his videos.

You had second hand evidence that he was packin’. You have came plenty of times just to the sound of his voice on those videos. He rarely fucked the same girl twice. They were all different women; all Black women, and all thick Black women.

You weren’t a snob. Sometimes you’d watch the woman getting their back blown out and wish it were you. But his voice. You were knee deep in his comments and he was gaining popularity just from his voice alone.

You giggled again. “Where do you even find these women? You being safe?” You asked. You knew perfectly well that he fucked without a condom. Hell, you’d let him cum in you too.

“I get checked every month and only fuck bitches that’s clean. Some hit me up. Some I find in the wild,” he said.

He puffed on the blunt after you handed it back. Your body wasn’t floating but it felt like it. There was an all around hum on your body.

“The wild? Like…damn, you just find women willing to have sex on camera and release it?” You never had enough courage to ask these questions before. But after last night’s video, you wanted to know. Your burning curiosity finally won out and started asking about it.

“You’d be surprised how many mu’fuckas wanna watch themselves. Some don’t wanna be seen. That’s fine. Hide they face and whatever. But the real nasty ones don’t cum unless the camera in they face,” he said. He released a cloud of smoke to join the rest.

You thought of being one of those women. Showing your face on camera for millions to gawk at. Cum to. You’d never in a million years…but the thought wasn’t terrible. There would be evidence that Tyrone fucked you and he’d control it. He could do anything with it.

“Do you rehearse and shit? Like do you know what you’re gonna say before?” You asked.

“Hell naw,” he said and huffed again.

He comes up with those filthy things on the spot? You bit your lip. Maybe…having sex with Tyrone wouldn’t be good. He’s a different breed. In a class all on his own. Sure, the videos could have told you that. But hearing it from the source? You weren’t so sure you wanted to find out what he was like.

“You real curious tonight,” he said. The orange light from the blunt casted soft shadows over his face.

You shrugged. “We ain’t talkin’ bout shit else,” you said.

“You forget I know yo ass? You real curious,” he said. He looked at you skeptically. You looked right in his eyes. You were not going to give him an inch. You had years worth of experience pretending to not be in love with him. That every video wasn’t like a stab in the heart.

He was making good money though and you weren’t gonna fuck with someone’s bag. So you kept your mouth shut. Pretended that you were just his friend. Just a friend.

The bed shifted and Tyrone leaned closer to you. His eyes searched your face. He leaned in closer than he has ever been to you. His nose lightly grazed yours, making it both tingly and itchy.

You swallowed hard and you knew you made a sound. Tyrone huffed, the breath fanning across your face.

“You trynna find out?” He asked.

“Naw nigga,” you said. You didn’t know where this boldness came from. But your heart thundered in fear that he would learn your secret. You’d kept it so close to your heart for so long. It was like its own tiny dagger always piercing your heart. But sometimes removing it hurts you worse than keeping it in. If you opened your big mouth, you’d ruin this. This time spent together.

Tyrone kissed your cheek. His lips lingering against your cheek as he spoke. “Every time I mention gettin’ down, you tell me I’m lyin’. So let me prove myself,” he said.

You giggled, the weed making him glow. You stared across his regal looks. You bet he was a king in a previous life.

You wriggled on the bed and took a deep breath. Stay strong. Stay strong. “You actin’ crazy, Ty. Not every girl wanna be yo bitch,” you said. You sounded weak to your own ears.

“Mhm, I think you the one lyin’. I think you been cravin’ this dick,” he said. He pecked your cheek and traveled down. His lips kissed a trail of fire down to your neck.

“What you say that for?” You asked.

“You wanna know what it’s like to be fucked by me, don’t you?” He asked. He kissed up to your ear and laughed. “I know what desire look like. I eat that shit for breakfast,” he said.

His words made your mouth drop open. Words of denial rushed to your lips. But your mouth turned dry. The fuckin’ weed speeding along your anxiety at being exposed.

“You trippin’, man,” you said. You shook your head, but he kept up the pressure on your neck. Practically making out. Little swipes of his tongue made you bite back a groan. Your panties were so damp, they were sticking to you. You ran the palms of your hands up and down your thighs.

“You talk big game. You aint tell me to stop yet neither,” he said.

Fuck. True. But how could you? He hadn’t even done anything to you yet and you were ready to burst. You just made yourself cum this morning, thinking of the video last night. He had looked delicious pounding someone into the bed. How you wanted it to be you.

Your words died in your throat. What could you say? He was seducing yo ass. Did you really want that to stop?

“Fine then, nigga. Break my back,” you said. You looked him in the eyes with the challenge in your eyes. He looked up at you and grinned. Yo momma ain’t raise no bitch. You got nervous sometimes but that’s okay. It’s okay to be nervous. Do shit anyway.

The words sounded nice, but you were terrified of the look in Tyrone’s eyes. That was not the look of someone who was going to be sweet and loving in bed. Tyrone the Pornstar was here.

He got off of the bed and moved the ashtray off of the bed and onto the nightstand. The sound of the glass was like a gunshot. You flinched and watched his every move. He stood up to his full height and stared at you.

The look in his eyes was not friendly. It was predatory. You were an unknowing baby bunny and he was a starving wolf. He reached out with his hands and ran them up and down your bare thighs. You gasped and flinched away from him.

“When was the last time you been fucked?” He asked.

You’ve taken your fair share of guys to your bed. Some were even good. None ever came close to Tyrone. Each time you came, it was to the sound or memory of Tyrone’s voice.

“Been a while,” you said.

He nodded his head. He reached for the zipper of your shorts and you let him unzip it. He didn’t pull your shorts down all the way. He opened your zipper as far as it would go and then pulled down the front just enough to see your panties.

You were hoping to disrobe in a quick rush. You weren’t exactly prepared for sex tonight. You wore one of your boring and safe panties. It didn’t bother Tyrone. He stared at it, like he’d just unwrapped a present.

“Talkin’ all that shit. Why yo panties wet then?” He asked.

You looked away briefly. “Thinkin of this guy at my job I got a crush on,” you said.

Tyrone dug his fingers into your panties and you cried out. “Every time you lie to me, that’s another orgasm,” he said. “I’m already thinkin’ of..four, maybe. I can keep goin’,” he said. His deep voice made you shiver.

His fingers were right there. Your stupid panties were in the way. You felt the pressure but not his beautiful, strong hands. “I’m not lyin’,” you said.

He dug his fingers in more and you jerked from the strong wave of desire. It was like you drank static.

“A’ight that’s five. And I want you to count ‘em out too,” he said.

“Wait, I’m sorry,” you said. You never had your limits tested, but you were pretty sure you’d die after the third one. If he went for five, you weren’t going to survive. There were too many things you wanted to accomplish before you left this earth.

“That sorry shit don’t work on me,” he said and grinned. “Now be a good little bitch and tell me you want this dick. And you want me to film it,” he said.

A breath stuttered out of you. He was even better in person. “Don’t show my face,” you said. You borrowed boldness for tonight. If you survived to tomorrow, then that’s when you’d freak out. For now, you wanted the entire Tyrone experience.

“Naw, this my personal stash. I wanna see that sexy ass face,” he said. He leaned over you and ran his thumb outside of your panties. You were leaking at the edges and his thumb glided so close to where you needed him.

“Personal stash?” Maybe if you kept him talking, he’d give you a reprieve. You just needed a moment to think. To find a way out of five orgasms.

“The ones I watch to get myself hard. The ones I cum to, thinkin’ of it when I’m balls deep in pussy online,” he said.

Oh shit. “But–” your dry throat ached. It paled in comparison to the ache in your tummy. That deep, hidden place that few men actually hit.

Tyrone slipped his thumb under your panties and crested the very outer area of your clit. You gasped and twitched, your legs couldn’t open wider because your shorts weren’t all the way off. He looked into your eyes.

He licked your open mouth. “See, the game to porn? Focus on the woman. Always,” he said.

He increased his strokes until you were a shaking mess. You didn’t know you could make those types of sounds. But all of the tiny grunts and yips, turned to moans as you came from his finger circling your clit. He didn’t even touch it directly.

He pulled his finger away and watched you jerk and twitch until you calmed down. He licked his thumb, made a surprised sound, and stood up. Your eyes tracked him as he stepped back and took off his black T-shirt. His jeans went next, his briefs tenting with his erection.

He stroked himself over his briefs and looked at you with his head crooked to the side. “Fuck, you’re sexy,” he rasped. He moved to the side of his room and there was the sound of devices getting moved around. You laid on the bed, your eyes back to the ceiling.

This was really happening. You fought the urge to pinch yourself as Tyrone set up the camera. It had a retractable viewer and he flipped it around to the bed. You saw yourself lying there, staring at the camera.

Your pussy clenched at the thought. Tyrone had always been a man of his word. If this was his personal stash, he was the only one that would see you getting fucked. You wanted it so desperately, you leaned up on your elbows and started to remove your shorts.

“I say you can move yet?” He asked.

You panted at his aggressive tone and shook your head, not trusting your voice. “Lay yo ass back down,” he said. You followed his command, laying back on the bed. Your body was floating this time. You felt every nerve in your body twitch up and await what Tyrone had in store.

Tyrone puffed on the blunt as he finished setting up the camera. A moment later, he brought the camera closer and pointed it at your face. You blushed so hard that your cheeks burned from it. You knew they would be hot to the touch.

“Smile for Daddy,” he said.

You giggled and swiped at the camera. “Fuck you,” you said.

Tyrone chuckled a little louder this time. He moved the camera down your body. “Take off the shirt first, nice and slow,” he said.

You sat up and looked at him. Focus on him. That’s all you had to do. You’d make this the best damn video he can’t release. You took off your shirt, exposing your mismatched bra. That came next, slowly sliding it off your arms. You threw it at him and he caught it with one hand.

He smirked from behind the camera and dropped your bra. He commanded that you stand up and take off your shorts. He told you to turn around and slightly bend over as you took off your panties. You stepped out of it and he groaned.

“Fuck, look at that pretty fuckin’ pussy,” he said.

You clenched and then clenched again knowing that he was picking it up on the camera. “Crawl on the bed, get on your back,” he said.

You did as he told you. You climbed onto the bed and exaggerated yourself crawling to the top of his bed. You flipped over, dropping onto your back. “Get comfortable,” he told you.

You moved a few pillows over to cradle your head and back. You instantly felt better. You closed your eyes with a smile. Your knees were pressed together, still feeling that lingering shyness.

Tyrone tapped your knees. “Open them up for me,” he said. Tyrone had the viewfinder half flipped between you. He had it focused on your knees. You hid your face behind your hands and shook your head.

“C’mon, do what I say,” he said.

You groaned but opened your legs. You threw your arm over your eyes, not wanting to see his reaction. “Open them pretty eyes and look at me,” he said. His tone, more than anything, made you open your eyes and stare at him. Tyrone was not the gentle type online. He barked and commanded and did nearly unspeaking things to women. Soft wasn’t in his vocabulary.

“You know how sexy you are?” He asked.

“Of course I do,” you said. Your sexiness didn’t depend on no man. Not even Tyrone. You knew you were fine as hell. You ain’t pull niggas for nothin’. But you were still fuckin’ shy. Damn.

“Don’t hide it then,” he said. He climbed onto the bed and moved the camera beyond your head. You craned your neck to see him fix the viewfinder where he could see. There was a perfect angle of the length of your body, your legs spread open, and Tyrone hovering above you.

Tyrone then kissed you, rolling his tongue all over yours. You don’t know how long he spent kissing you. It was long enough to make you relax for half a second. When he felt your body go slack, he added his hands. He lowered himself to your body and rested on his elbows. His hands, he ran them all over your chest.

He massaged your breasts, rolling your nipple between his warm fingers. Each twist was just this side of painful. And you groaned. Your head flopped on the pillow as he nipped at your neck.

You brought your hands up to grip onto his back. Your nails lightly scratched him. He groaned. He kissed down your neck, moving onto the top of your titties. “Oh, shit,” you moaned as his lips latched onto your left nipple.

He sucked like he was mining for gold. He rolled his tongue over the budding peak. He ‘d stop and examine his handiwork, see if it was satisfactory, then return his attention to it. He licked a long strip down the center of your chest to your tummy.

He paid careful attention to each stretch mark, each tiny scar from you being clumsy, and every mole. His hands worked their way down too. Squeezing your sides. The upper, fleshy part of your thighs. He reached around and gripped your ass, squeezing the globes.

He continued downward, running his tongue through your pubic hair. He reached the very edge of your pussy and you squirmed away. A cold patch started inching its way under your ass. Your arousal was already flooding his bed.

He flattened his tongue against your pussy lips and you bucked off of the bed. “Oh fuck, Tyrone!” You yelled.

Your skin was itchy. You needed relief in the worst way. He chuckled and nosed his way through your folds. He swirled his tongue lazily around your clit.

“Did you know you taste good?” He murmured into your pussy. His lips caught your clit and part of your pussy lips. You made an unholy moan.

“Could eat this for breakfast, lunch, and dinner and still want some,” he said.

“Fuck,” you whined. Your pussy clenched thinking of a repeat with Tyrone. How else he could be so nasty.

The wetness of his tongue made you wetter. He began to increase the flicks of his tongue against your clit. “Oh shit, right there, right there,” you begged.

Tyrone backed away at the last second and you growled. He chuckled and kissed your clit. “You think just ‘cuz you want it, you s’posed to have it?” He asked.

“Please, please,” you said.

“Mhm, I knew yo lyin’ ass was gon’ regret what you said.”

“Or maybe I just wanna cum and I’ll say anything,” you said, goading him into proving you wrong. You’d gladly be wrong, many times over, if he kept eating you like that.

“Guess, we goin’ for six then. Start counting,” he said.

“What?”

“And the first one ain’t count neither,” he said.

“That’s cheating!” You yelled.

He looked at you from between your legs. You had to sit up some to see his half lidded eyes. “I look like a nigga that play fair?”

Your chest rose and fell and you looked at him. You shook your head. “No, but–what can I do to bring that number down?” You asked.

“Not a mu’fuckin’ thing,” he said. He kept watching you as he descended on your pussy, running his lips up and down, licking up your arousal. He watched as he tried different things, trying to see what you reacted to most. When he did something you liked, he stopped and switched tactics.

You tried not responding, quieting your moans but then he’d bit the sensitive spot between your pussy and your leg. You’d jerk, complain about the pain, and say, “Don’t give a fuck.”

You were back to moaning uncontrollably. So out of your mind in bliss, that you barely noticed that he stuck a finger inside of you. He pumped you, his finger getting wetter on each slide. “Oh fuck, oh fuck,” you chanted.

“Let Daddy hear you,” he said.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you continued. Each word ended on a shriek. Tyrone sucked and you came, with a loud moan. Your hands moved down your stomach, down your thighs, scratching underneath them. Your moves were jerky, flopping against the bed. You didn’t know what to do with your body as you came.

When you were done, air whooshed across your heated, sweat-slick skin. Tyrone licked up whatever was left over, making you twitch from your sensitive clit.

Tyrone kissed up one side of your thighs. He slapped your pussy, making you cry out. “One!”

He then pushed your legs back, your thighs grazing the bedsheets. “This where I want ‘em. Keep ‘em there,” he said.

How the hell was he still in so much control? You were a ruined mess. You couldn’t survive any more.

Tyrone had other plans. He trailed his fingers around your clit and you moaned. “I can’t,” you said.

“Aw, you wanna tap out?” He asked.

You nodded. Your eyes were closed. You weren’t strong enough for another orgasm.

“Still don’t give a fuck,” he said. He leaned up and over you. His thighs pushed at yours, folding you. He leaned on his fist, his muscles bunching and contracting. A vein started near his elbow and ran down towards his hand. You longed to lick it, but his arm wasn’t close enough.

You resorted to rubbing his arm. He brought his other hand to cup your pussy. Then a finger disappeared inside you. “Oh shit!” You said and jerked.

He added a second finger and you twitched. Your moans were turning painful. Robbing the breath from your lungs. You’d gasp for any little molecule of air. And then seize up once more as his fingers pumped in and out of you. “Mhmm,” Tyrone said.

“Nasty little bitch, ain’t you.” He added a third finger.

“Ty, Ty,” you croaked out.

“What? You need four?” He asked. He added a fourth finger and you rounded your eyes at him. As he pumped it into you, he turned his hand. Two fingers slipped out. The first two, he continued to pound into you. Then he crooked his fingers in a come hither motion and you exploded.

Your back lifted off of the bed as your orgasm steam rolled you. Your legs shook like mini earthquakes, each wave cascading through you like aftershocks. You reached for his chest, needed to feel something solid under your hands. He slapped your hand away and tilted his head at you.

He grabbed your nipple and pulled and you shrieked. “Fuck,” you said. He arched his brow at you. “Two,” you said.

You came down with tears gathering in your eyes. You sniffled as you shivered. Tyrone rubbed your arms, smirking at you.

“Shit, may not need the camera. I’m gon’ remember this shit,” he said.

You completely forgot about the camera. It turned you on that those orgasms were recorded. That he’d watch them again and again.

He kissed your tummy, bringing your attention back. He kissed and suckled your skin. You watched it disappear into his mouth. You groaned when he started to hurt. He moved on to more patches of skin, kissing the underswell of your right titty. He caressed your hips and massaged your ass as he kissed his way to your neck.

He bit your shoulder and then licked your neck. He placed kisses on your jaw and then kissed you. He licked the swell of your bottom lip.

Your body relaxed into the feel of his lips on you. The weed still did its thing. Every kiss was its own inferno. Burning your skin and leaving no end in sight.

Tyrone returned his attention to your neck, kissing along your ear. He licked the shell of your ear and lined up at your entrance. You didn’t even notice that he took off his briefs.

He slid in and you groaned. You brought your hand up to push at his chest. He stroked and coated his long dick with your juices. He moaned at the feeling of you. He threw his head back and you saw his neck swallowing. Tiny huffs escaped him.

“Goddamn, this pussy feels as good as it tastes,” he moaned. You clenched at his dirty words and he moaned again.

“Wanna get fucked like a good little bitch?” He asked.

“Yes! Yes, Daddy, please,” you begged, nodding your head.

His strokes were long, languorous. His hands pinned your upper arms to the bed. “What happened to all that shit you was talkin’?”

He wanted you to speak? Speak when he had his third leg half inside of you? He wasn’t even fully seated yet.

“Talk that shit now with dick in you,” he said.

You opened your mouth, ready to say something. But then he slammed all the way home, hitting your G-spot and making you cum instantly. You shook on his dick, eyes rolling into the back of your head. Your toes curled. The orgasm took all coherent thought.

After, you sniffed as tears ran down your cheeks. Tyrone’s dick twitched, his eyes locked on your face.

“Can get a nigga used to this. You cum so pretty,” he said.

“Fuck, Tyrone. Please,” you whispered. He only smirked at you. He slapped his hand against your cheek. “Three,” you said with a cry.

He moved his hand down your throat and squeezed.

“Oh fuck,” you whispered. Tears fell in rivulets down your cheeks. You were past the point of feeling good in the afterglow of your orgasms.

He kept up his slow strokes, making you feel every large vein sliding against your slick inner walls. “Put them legs where I want ‘em,” he commanded.

You lifted your aching thighs, putting your hands under to hold them open for him. “Please, Daddy.”

“Please what? Ask nicely,” he said.

He slowed down even more, almost to a torturous crawl. He wiggled his hips and his dick hit all the corners of your pussy.

“Please, no more,” you said.

“You know what to say to get me to stop,” he said. He wiggled his hips for emphasis. You whined and jerked on the bed.

You didn’t want to punk out. But you truly couldn’t take another one. Still, one built up anyway. Tyrone chuckled at you, condescension poured out of him in waves.

“You know I’m cummin’ in this shit right?” He groaned. He threw his head back and his hips twitched.

You pictured him filling you up like a twinkie and your pussy clenched. “Like that? Want me to nut in you?”

He squeezed your neck one last time. He moved his hand to your lower tummy and pushed down. You felt his dick from the other side, felt how deep he was inside of you. The tip of his dick kissed your G-spot. He kissed you, soft and nasty. “Talk yo shit then. Can’t talk with dick inside you?”

Tears gave everything a watery haze. It streamed down your face. Tyrone licked up your tears and moaned low to your ear. “Gimme that nut then,” he said.

On command, another orgasm rushed through you. Spots danced behind your eyelids. You squeezed your eyes shut. “Show me them pretty eyes,” he said.

He smirked as you locked eyes with him. He angled his hips and your jaw dropped open. “Mhmm, I know. I know,” he said.

As you were calming down, you muttered, “Four.”

Tyrone slipped out of you and you drew your first real breath in what felt like hours. He leaned down between your legs, his mouth suckling on your clit.

“Oh shit, oh fuck, oh fuck, Tyrone, Daddy. Please,” you moaned.

“Open them fuckin’ legs,” he growled. You opened them wider, both your arms and legs were tired now. He brought his mouth back onto you and sucked roughly, dragging another orgasm out of you. Your eyes were permanently glued to the back of your head. Pleasure coursed through you, making your legs shake of their volition. Your soul left your body, your feet cramped. Sound exited your right ear and you felt this one in your eyes.

You squirted and Tyrone leaned back. “Mhmm,” he encouraged. “Nasty fuckin’ bitch,” he said. He licked up your sopping mess. You continued to squirt, the pleasure still so intense. He leaned back and watched you cum, watched you squirt.

“F-f-five,” you shook. Your teeth clattered and knocked against each other.

“Look at you, bein’ a good little bitch,” he said. “You made Daddy wait for his nut though.” His voice turned sinister.

He leaned up and slapped his dick against your clit. The wet slap turned you feral, and you cried for more. You begged for more.

“Fill me up, Daddy,” you cried. Your fingers tore at your body. You wanted more even though you were ready to tap out. Ready to give it up.

Tyrone chuckled as he slammed back in. “Oh fuck,” you cried and collapsed your legs.

“Uh-uh, open them fuckin’ legs. Keep that shit open,” he said.

You cried, tears long since dried up. He bottomed out and then rubbed your clit with his thumb. “Oh fuck,” you moaned.

“I know,” he said.

He slid in and out, stroking deep. Deep enough to make you see stars. “Oh, fuck, Daddy,” your voice was high-pitched. “Fuck me, Daddy, fuck me,” you chanted.

“Im finna nut,” he moaned. “I’m finna nut, I’m finna nut.” Hearing his moans was like the spark you needed. You came again, gushing and soaking his dick. He threw his head back and unloaded inside of you.

He kept going, kept fucking his cum into you. Hot splashes coated your pussy. You felt every pulse and twitch of his dick inside you. He emptied his balls into you and you moaned and scratched at his back.

He slowed his deep strokes, stilling inside of you.

“Good fuckin’ bitch,” he said. He slipped out of you, his cum leaking out behind him. He panted, his sweaty chest rising and falling almost painfully.

“Oh,” you cooed and moaned. Your legs flopped onto the bed, instant relief from keeping them up so long. “Six,” you whispered. Your voice was hoarse.

Tyrone kissed you. He breathed in your ear. “You ever have any more questions, you come let me know.”

You were already gone to the world as he said whatever it was that he said. If you woke up in the morning, it’d be a miracle.

&&&

You okay? Need more? The Secret Tyrone Files

499 notes · View notes

hobies-princealbert · 8 months

Note

Head Empty. Thinking about high!plug!fontaine n high!reader. He’d def be the plug that flirts with her and gives her deals and one day he asks her to smoke wit him for free and they just start making out in his car listening to music. 😱😱😱

gurl the new pfp frightened me a bit ngl 💀💀

but coming right up! i took some creative liberties cuz i kinda forgot to double check what your ask said. im srry its just once i got that ball rolling, i couldn't stoppp ( ´,_ゝ`)

plug! fontaine x high! reader | (the nsfw is below the cutting off)

▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎♤▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎♤▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎♤▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎♤▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎♤▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎♤▪︎▪︎

♤ taine wasn't exactly your first choice for a plug. he was a well known dealer in the glen, but the things he was known for made you hesitant. he was a no nonsense type dealer, he gives a price, you pay on time. if you can't do as simple as that then you wasting his time. and knowing you were tight on money sometimes, you decided it best to stick to the plugs you knew.

♤ but twelve wack ass joints later, you found yourself sitting in a certain green cadillac that you never thought you'd set foot in. both of you sat in silence for a few seconds, only a few feet away from each other.

♤ you patiently watched as he tried to light his spliff with the faulty lighter. growing more frustrated, he soon tossed the lighter onto the dash, then turned to you expectantly. and as if you could read his mind, you pulled your lighter and held it up for him to take.

♤ he stared at you for a bit, you felt as if you body was on fire. he had a pair of the scariest eyes you've ever seen. and he kept those eyes on you the entire time. not once looking away.

♤ you felt him wrap around your wrists. he pulled your hands closer to his face. your entire body became solid rock. all you could hear was your heart beating in your ears. the grip on your wrists were slack, giving you enough leeway to pull back if you wanted to. but something about the way he looked at you, made you stay still for him.

♤ he motioned for you to light the joint. you obliged. the orange glow of the flame made his eyes even more sinister. god he's terrifying. hot but, terrifyingly hot. once it was lit, he leaned back and let your wrist fall from his grasp. he took two puffs before he passed it over. " 'ere. take it. ' tell me if 'sgood enough."

♤ your breath was shaky as you inhaled the smoke. it was strong, definitely would get you fucked up in less than a minute. you handed it back to him. "you barely took tha' shi'. come 'ere."

♤ he placed the blunt back between his lips, as he settles one of his hands behind your head. "was he gonna gimme a shotgun right now. he's not....is he?" you let your brain rambled for bit till a low "open" brought you back.

♤ taine never does this, especially with cilents. but he took an interest in you. you seemed nervous, unlike most of his clients that just want their quick fix. and it helps that you weren't bad looking either. kinda cute in fact.

♤ but that didn't mean he wasn't fed up from watching your pretty little lips not taking his blunt properly. that shit ain't cheap. but you took the shot gun gave you pretty well. he saw how the smoke made your eyes a little teary, so he wiped a couple away before he let you go.

♤ you stared at him for a bit. he found you amusing that's for sure. and while he was trying to subside a smirk, you were trying to calm the ache between your legs. god you needed to get out this car before you did something you regret. but would you regret it? from the way his pants seemed to be stiffening, he probably felt the same way.

♤ reaching into his jacket he pulled a small plastic baggy,,that looked to contain at least 5 grams. your eyes went wide. this was way more than the agreed amount, that's at least $45 bucks, you didn't have that much on you. shit shit shit.

♤ "easy ma, this one's on the house" and with that you became one of his regulars. and his favorite at that.

♤ of course you became his favorite. i mean he'd never let a customer come over his house. much less one sit on his couch, smoke his blunt and watch a show on his tv.

♤ he certainly wouldn't let a customer stretch their legs across his lap either. or let one inch closer to him than appropriate, to the point where they made it onto his lap. he didnt mind, it definitely did help him relieve the ache between his legs. and he wasn't opposed to the way you let him kiss alongside your jaw, and even suck a couple marks into your skin.

♤ no regular of his ever let him pull down their shorts and toss them to god knows where. he's never gotten on his knees and licked a fat stripe along over their panties. never has he had to pull said panties to the side just so he could finally get a good look at how at your cunt.

♤ you were the only one who's clit he's mouthed at till his jaw ached. he didn't stop till he had to wrap his hands around your hips to hold you still.

♤ never once as taine let a regular, eagerly lick his precum from the slit to the point where he'd lull his head back everytime he felt their tongue dip into his slit. or had one force his cock into their mouth till the tip hit the back of their throat. and they stayed deepthroating him till he finally released. or had one lick up every last drop of cum that could find. no matter if it some was on his stomach, chest, thigh or on their face. he's never given a regular a couple puffs of his joint as a reward for sucking him to completion.

♤ he wondered if his weed made you like this. was it so good that it made you do your best to take him to the hilt, even though you could barely take a proper breath. probably it was the reason he'd take a minute or two cause the way your walls squeezed him, he swore he was gonna cum inside you right then and there.

♤ was his shit so good that it made you cry out his name and claw at his back with every thrust. had him having to slap your tits whenever you looked too far gone. make him tell you to how good you were, or that from the way your walls started to push him out, you were close. make him coo at you whenever you finally came, so you knew how proud he was. maybe it was why you bared the overwhelming sensation that your release brought so he could reach his edge. maybe that what made you mumbled about him cumming inside you.

♤ tempting but he preferred to release on your cunt so you could reach your hand down and desperately collect his droplets into your mouth. god he loved when you did that. he especially when you parted your slit so he could get one last lick before he let you suck it off his tongue.

♤ never had he had a regular make him feel that good to the point he gave them free weed.

#fontaine x reader #they cloned tyrone #fontaine they cloned tyrone #fontaine x black reader #☆° via writes °☆#fontaine smut

541 notes · View notes

8ttached · 6 months

Text

"she's a real gem huh?"

pairings - (possessive) Fontaine x blk reader

warnings - (18+ smut, minors dni!!) not proof read, car sex (dont know if I would consider this as public sex since it's in an empty parking lot but you have been warned!!), aave, use of the n word, make-up sex

authors note - heyy I've been so caught up with other shit that i almost forgot about Tumblr but i finally whipped something up after weeks of writers block but i hope you guys enjoy!!!

word count - 946

(reblogs and comments are most definitely appreciated!! )

possessive Fontaine

You always knew Fontaine was the possessive type. Not the loud “yells at anyone who stares at you” kind of possessive. But the “I know I'm lucky” possessive. The type to plant hickeys all over your neck for other niggas to see when they're talking to you. he gets a kick outta the ones who stare at them for too long

You were at the bar with yoyo and slick. Fontaine decided not to go since in his words “he got other shit to do.” your main plan was to stick together incase some weird shit happens but after a few drinks that plan was dropped. Yoyo was dancing while slick was god knows where and now you’re chopping it up with some nigga that claimed to “know you from way back.”

“Yeah, you haven't changed a bit! Same eyes as your mama” the older man said. You laughed nervously as you looked around the atmosphere. The guy began to compliment you again and again. Comments like “you look just like ya mama” and “you've gotten so grown” made your skin crawl.

You look at your phone checking the time, but you ended up seeing missed calls from Fontaine. not just one, but Multiple. You looked around looking for Yoyo and slick knowing that if Fontaine called multiple times, it was something serious.

The older man's words suddenly turned into mumbles as you looked around seeing Slick and Yoyo nowhere in sight. You look down at your phone worried as you start to call Fontaine but something stops you. The older male said something as you weren't paying attention and a tall broad man stood behind you.

“Yeah, she's a real gem huh?” he agreed.

The dark male's voice sent chills down your spine causing you to turn your shoulders, face to face with your boyfriend. Fontaine didn't say anything to you. His low-lidded eyes said more than enough. As you walked outside you remembered Slick and Yoyo were still in the club. Or so you thought.

“What about yoyo and-”

“They left.”

Fontaine didn't look at you. His hands in his pockets, eye facing straight ahead, it all worried you. But what worried you most was Yoyo and Slick leaving you at the club knowing what could have happened. Especially with the weirdo you were talking to.

You both get into his car. As you look down on your lap you feel a heavy shake from Fontaines side of the car. You smack your thick lips. “Damn nigga you ain't needa slam the door that hard.” but he didn't say anything, let alone look at you. He was giving you the cold shoulder.

“..taine” cold shoulder again. You sigh deeply. The car ride home was quiet

Fontaine set the car to park and took his key out the car. Before he could open the door you grab his shoulder. “Fuck you touching me for?’ he mumbles. “Fontaine it wasn't what it looked like” Your hand laid on his shoulder. “So you at the bar flirting to some older nigga wasn't what it looked like?” he turns to you, his grills shining as his nose turns up in irritation. “No, it wasn't! And you know I wouldn't do that shit to you” your voice cracked. You didn't want Fontaine to be worried about you. You were a big girl and you didn't need some hood nigga taking care of you, but you also didn't want him to think you were someone to share around. “Then what was it?”

You ended up telling him everything that happened. From the plan, to the creepy comments. You made sure to lay everything onto the table.

“Why didn't you say shit at the club?” he sighs looking straight at the driver's wheel as he sucked his teeth. “ ‘cus I know you taine and ion need that type of attention on me.” your eyes stuck at your dress. “That dress giving you every type of attention” Your boyfriend examines your short dress with a deep breath and hand rubbing his beard. He thought you looked jaw dropping but knowing Fontaine, he wasn't gonna let you see him fold so quickly, especially after what just happened. What’d you expect? He's stubborn. You smile, “Whatchu meannnn..” you laugh as you cross your hands, looking at him from the side.

And like that, flirting quickly turned to fucking.

Fontaine's rough hands groping your titties, ass, and hips time and time again. His name leaves your thick lips over and over again. the car windows steaming with warm breaths of ecstasy.

“Ion won't no other nigga looking at you” Fontaine groins. “ion care if yo ass was green, don't no nigga need to be laying they eye on what's mine.” you nod, too breathless, too caught up with with the feeling of Fontaine's hands rubbing that spot on your clit. ‘I'm all yours taine” you finally sigh. Your legs shaking as you finally came. But the rhythm of Fontaine's hips continued. His hands gripping your ass as his head lays back.

“Fontaine, i cant..” you hold his arm. ‘I know baby i know, just relax mama m’kay?” you nod lightly laying yourself on his chest. Your warm breath on his neck. “Where you want it baby?” Fontaine's raspy voice asked. You were so fucked out of it, you couldn't let out coherent words. “In…side..” you moaned as Fontaine came inside you.

“You got it all on my dress!” you yelled out quietly as Fontaine grabbed the house keys. “That’ll show dem weird niggas ya already fucking with someone.” you notice his grin from the side which made you smile.

He really made you feel like a gem tonight.

#they cloned tyrone #fontaine #tct #black reader #john boyega #fontaine x black reader #fontaine x reader #fontaine smut #they cloned tyrone x reader #black reader smut #black reader fan fiction

426 notes · View notes

wakandas-vibranium · 9 months

Text

Double Date

Pairing: Fontaine x Black Fem!Reader

Warnings: smutty smut, 18+ content, minors DNI, oral(f+m receiving), protected p in v sex, dirty talk, daddy!kink, praise!kink, rough sex

Word count: 5k

Summary: Your coworker Yo-Yo is playing matchmaker and asked you to accompany her roommate on a double date.

A/N: Let’s get it started with these TCT fics!! If y’all writing ‘em, please tag me so I can read ‘em!! Please like, comment, and reblog!

You finished getting dressed, checked yourself in the mirror one last time, and smiled at how gorgeous you looked, so you grabbed your cell phone and purse and made your way downstairs to meet your Lyft driver. You couldn't wait for your automobile to be repaired because you loathed having to rely on others for transportation.

You were talking to your coworker Yo-Yo earlier this week about how you were touch starved and eager to jump back into the dating scene. Even though you had only worked with Yo-Yo for a little over four months, you had already come to think of her as a close friend. She just moved to Memphis not too long ago.

Yo-Yo asked you on a double date with her and her boyfriend, claiming that Fontaine, her roommate, was the ideal man for you.

You've seen Fontaine pick Yo-Yo up from work numerous times and have seen him drive that green car of his around town a few times, but you've never had the chance to actually talk to him. He always seemed to have a lot on his mind, but he was fine as hell, so of course you agreed to the double date.

You suggested Melvin's, which was one of the few black-owned pubs in the neighborhood. They had delicious, mouthwatering food and a dance floor that never stayed vacant.

Fontaine didn't appear to be the dancing type, which was fine by you. You just hoped that he would like you enough to bring you back home and fuck your brains out. It had been exactly 14 months, 12 weeks, 11 days, 13 hours, 22 minutes and 57 seconds since you had any kind of dick.

It was time.

Your Lyft driver pulled up in front of you at a quarter to eight, which was perfect because y'all had agreed to meet there at eight and it was only a ten-minute drive from your apartment.

"Lyft for Y/N?" said the older gentleman as he rolled down the passenger window.

You nodded at him, and he quickly stepped out to open the rear door for you, saying, "You lookin' good, young lady!"

You smiled at him before ducking into the backseat, "Thank you."

Before you knew it, you were parked in front of Melvin's. A nervous chill swept over you. It had been a good lil minute since you've dated. You were rusty and willed yourself not to fuck up tonight.

Once you strutted inside, you spotted the three of them almost immediately. They were all in deep conversation and didn't notice you walk in. They picked a good table to sit at. One close to the bar and dance floor. It was a Thursday night, so it wasn't too packed, but it had a nice lil crowd.

You tucked your phone inside your clutch, took a deep breath, and strolled confidently over to their table.

All three of them turned their heads towards you as you neared the table. Yo-Yo beamed brightly at you and waved you over. Her boyfriend's eyes widened, and he mumbled something you couldn't hear, but it must have been inappropriate because Yo-Yo kicked him under the table.

Fontaine raised his eyebrows and bit his bottom lip as he looked you up and down. The flash of his gold teeth almost made your knees go weak, but you kept walking. You were a sucker for niggas with grills.

Yo-Yo’s man and Fontaine were on the same side of the booth. Yo-Yo was sitting across from her boyfriend, and the empty spot in front of Fontaine was reserved for you.

Yo-Yo stood up and hugged you tightly, "You look finer than a motherfucka!"

You giggled, squeezing her back just as tightly, "Thank you girl! You look amazing too!"

She broke the hug and motioned to the two men, "This is my man, Slick Charles, and this is Fontaine." She motioned for you to slide into the booth first, “And this is my coworker and friend Y/N."

“Nice to meet you, Y/N,” Slick Charles greeted as he held out his hand. You shook his hand before scooching over into the booth.

“It’s good to meet you, Y/N,” Fontaine said as he extended his hand, “I’m Fontaine.”

You placed your hand in his large palm, brown eyes locking with his brown eyes and smiled softly at him, “It’s nice to finally meet you, Fontaine.”

He squeezed your hand, and a wave of warmth rushed through you. Under his intense gaze, you could feel your cheeks heating up.

Were you really so touch-deprived that a simple handshake and eye contact were enough to make your black ass blush?

The server came over and greeted everybody warmly, saying, "Welcome to Melvin's. What drinks can I get started on for y'all?"

Yo-Yo ordered first, “I’ll have a Manhattan.”

Then Slick Charles, “Yeah I’ll take a vodka cranberry with a splash of orange juice.”

The waiter turned to you expectantly and you ordered, “A whiskey sour, please.”

Fontaine ordered last, “Just a double shot of whiskey for me.”

“And did you want that neat or on the rocks?”

“Neat.”

“I’ll be right back with your drinks.”

“So,” you started as you watched the waiter walk off, “How are y’all liking Memphis so far?”

“I’m really enjoying it,” Yo-Yo chimed in.

“Yeah,” Slick Charles agreed, “It’s a nice change from the Glen.”

“I like it here,” Fontaine added, “I like being in a place where not too many niggas know me.”

“Well I’m glad y’all came to Memphis,” you admitted, smiling warmly at them.

The waiter returned with your drinks and took your orders before walking away.

“Slick, let's hit the dance floor while we wait for our food.” Yo-Yo said as she did a little dance at the table.

“I ain’t got on my dancing shoes to—“

“—Nigga, get yo ass up and let’s dance.”

“I know we retired and all but I’m still—“ Slick Charles was cut off by Yo-Yo yanking him up and to the dance floor.

“Are they always like that?” You asked, biting back a laugh as you watched Yo-Yo drag Slick Charles all the way to the dance floor.

“Pretty much,” Fontaine nodded, never taking his eyes off you, “How long you been in Memphis?”

“All my life.”

“You ain’t ever think about movin’ somewhere else?”

“Nah, not really,” you shrugged, “All my family is here, you know?”

“Yeah, I get it.”

You were surprised by how effortlessly the conversation flowed. You could talk to him for hours and never get tired of listening to his alluring voice. You were curious about the noises he made while he was balls deep in some pussy. You cleared your throat in an attempt to pull your thoughts out of the gutter. It didn't work.

“You been in a lot of relationships?” You asked, taking another swig of your drink.

“Nah, I ain’t really have too many shawtys back in the Glen.”

“Hmm, so you haven’t come across any Memphis women that caught your attention?”

“You caught my eye,” he stated, catching you off guard.

“Is that so?”

“Mmhmm.”

“I’mma keep it real with you, Fontaine,” you said as you looked him straight in the eye, “I want you really bad.”

“Shit then we on the same page,” he acknowledged, downing the rest of his drink. “So you comin’ back with me tonight?”

You nodded, “I just have one condition though.”

“And what’s that?” Fontaine questioned as he placed his elbows on the table and leaned forward a bit.

You leaned across the table and motioned for him to come closer. When he was close enough to your liking you whispered, “You have to keep the grills on while you eat my pussy.”

His brown eyes darkened with desire and a hint of mischief at your request. As your tongue glided across your bottom lip, his gaze drifted to your mouth.

The sexual tension was so thick you could have sliced it with a butter knife.

“I can do that.”

You inched closer to each other, your gaze never leaving the other's. From this close range, you could see that his pupils were dilated. You were positive that yours most likely were too.

“Yeah? You promise?” The corners of your mouth couldn’t help but turn up into an infectious grin at the electric look he gave you.

“Promise.”

He closed what little distance was left between you and kissed your lips. Your eyes fluttered closed as you kissed him back with a quickness. Under his facial hair, his full lips were soft against yours and tasted of whiskey.

The bustling noise of the forks scraping plates, the chatter of the other customers, and the thump of feet on the dance floor all faded away for a brief moment.

You rested your hands on his broad shoulders as he deepened the kiss, letting out a soft moan as his tongue brushed against yours. His hand was wrapped around your lower arm, softly caressing your brown skin.

You got a little carried away as you slid your hands to the sides of his neck and gently tugged at his lower lip. The low grunt of surprise that he let out caused your clit to throb, and your nipples to harden. He didn't try to pull away from you though. He held both of your arms now and squeezed them tighter as his kisses became more heated.

You were seconds away from saying fuck it and pulling him into a bathroom stall, but you refrained. You had to maintain some type of decorum.

“Ahhh sookie sookie now!” Slick Charles chuckled as he made his way back to the table.

“Y’all niggas need to get a room,” Yo-Yo teased as she plopped down next to you.

“These motherfuckas,” Fontaine grumbled as he pulled away.

When you finally opened your eyes, you noticed that some other patrons were staring at you. You ignored them and focused your attention on Yo-Yo and Slick Charles, both of whom were smirking at you and Fontaine.

You were too turned on to be embarrassed, and fortunately, the waiter was on his way over with everyone's food.

The food was delicious as always, and the evening was going exceptionally well. Slick Charles was telling you how he met Yo-Yo, but you were zoning in and out.

Every time you locked eyes with Fontaine, you squirmed in your seat a little. There was something in his fierce gaze that promised you a night of passion.

You were so turned on that you couldn't even finish your food. You just ordered another whiskey sour and sipped on that until the others were finished and ready to leave.

The drive back to their place was smooth and just a vibe. Yo-Yo and Slick Charles sang along to the 90's R&B that played softly on the radio in the backseat, and you joined them a few times.

Fontaine sat in a comfortable silence, driving with one hand because his right hand was spread out over your thigh. When he would stop at a red light, he would squeeze it or rub it with his fingers. All the while not taking his eyes off the road, driving you insane, and making you wet for him. He had to know what he was doing to you.

They lived in a pretty nice apartment complex. It wasn't too far from yours. Once Fontaine parked, you got out of the car and walked ahead with Yo-Yo, arm in arm.

You were elated that they lived on the first floor because your feet were killing you. Yo-Yo unlocked the door and you followed her inside. She pulled you through the apartment to the kitchen, handing you a bottle of water after she closed the fridge.

You and she gushed over how great tonight turned out to be and how you both had naughty plans for your men.

A couple of minutes later, the fellas entered the apartment. Slick Charles called for Yo-Yo, who winked at you and gave you a thumbs up before exiting the kitchen.

You were halfway done with your water when Fontaine found you leaning against the kitchen counter.

“Hey,” he greeted.

“Hi,” you replied, shooting him a warm smile.

He pointed to the hallway, “My room is the last room on the left. I’ll meet you there in a min.”

You nodded as you watched him shuffle out of the kitchen. You gulped down the last bit of your water and threw away the bottle before leaving the kitchen in search of his bedroom.

You found his room with ease, passing Fontaine, Yo-Yo and Slick Charles. The door was already open, so you headed in, not bothering to flip on the light because the tiny lamp on his nightstand illuminated the room plenty for you to see.

“Slick, what the fuck we gon’ do with glow in the dark condoms?” you heard Fontaine question from the other bedroom. You laughed to yourself. You weren’t completely against those types of condoms.

Slick Charles went on about Fontaine being boring and how he needed to have some fun. You tuned him out as you took off your heels, sighing in relief while you walked around Fontaine’s room.

You checked your phone to make sure there were no missed calls or texts before slipping it back in your purse. You placed your clutch on his dresser and checked yourself out in the mirror while you waited for him. You looked like a snack and you were definitely ready to be ate!

Fontaine strolled into the room, shutting and locking the door behind him. You turned around to look at him. He held up a gold-colored foil packet and asked, “You ain't allergic to latex, right?"

"Nah, I'm not allergic,” you assured him.

"Cool," he said as he pocketed the rubber and took his shoes and socks off, kicking them to the side before pulling you in by the waist and kissing you instantly.

You kissed him back, your arms sliding up to wrap around his neck. His hands ventured down to your ass, squeezing it tight as he deepened the kiss. He swallowed your soft moans, licking into your hot mouth as he backed you into the dresser.

“Now I told yo ass to slow down before you injure a nigga’s back!” Slick Charles shouted through the walls. Yo-Yo said something back but you couldn’t make out what she had said.

He broke the kiss, panting lightly as you both stared at each other for several seconds before he shook his head and you let out a giggle. Those two had to be the strangest and funniest couple you’d ever met.

You felt his hardness against your thigh and you rubbed it. Damn, he was huge. You couldn’t wait to feel him inside you, stretching your walls.

“You ready for Daddy to eat that pussy?” he asked as he took a step back, looking you up and down.

Was the sky blue? Hell yeah, you were.

You nodded enthusiastically as you pulled your dress over your head, tossing it onto the floor. He watched you undress with hungry eyes, palming his erection. Once you took off your bra and panties you sauntered over to the bed, sitting down slowly before spreading your legs.

He yanked off his shirt, revealing his large chest and broad shoulders, throwing it on the floor with your pile of clothes. He followed you up the bed, pulling on your legs to bring you closer to his face.

“Damn shawty,” Fontaine murmured as he rolled your clit between his thumb and forefinger, licking his lips at the captivating way your pussy glimmered in his dimly lit room. “All for me, huh?”

"All for you, Daddy," you sighed deeply in anticipation as you felt his breath on your sensitive cunt. His nose brushed against your clit, causing your thighs to tremble slightly.

Leaning on his forearms, his large hands rested atop your lower belly as he licked a warm stripe from your wet slit all the way to your clit, flicking it twice before closing his mouth around it. You could already tell that you wouldn’t last long.

“You taste good as fuck,” he praised, dipping his tongue into your hole, tasting your fresh juices. He slid his finger in, stretching you slowly as he licked around your clit, strong tongue pushing you closer to the edge.

"Oooh just like that," you held the back of his head, moaning loudly, "Don't stop."

Your back arched off the bed, bringing your pussy closer to his talented mouth. Your thighs began to shake as your climax loomed. The sheer pleasure was almost too much for you. You tried to force your thighs closed, but Fontaine's hand pinned you down. He had you exactly where he wanted you.

You inhaled sharply and sank back against the pillows as he inserted a second finger, pumping you faster.

“Fuuuuck!” you moaned even louder.

He softly nibbled your clit, and the coolness of his golds was all it took to send you tumbling over the edge.

“I can feel it,” he moaned against your sensitive bud, slurping up all your juices, “Let it all out for Daddy.”

His filthy words and the calculated flicks of his tongue had your mind whirling and your heart pounding. Every mind-boggling wave of bliss flooded through your veins, causing you to shiver uncontrollably as you tugged on his locs. At the moment, you couldn't form any words. All you could do was pant harshly and let out all kinds of obscene noises.

When he finally felt your body go limp, he pulled off your clit and eased his fingers out of you. Fontaine planted a few soothing kisses on your thighs before sitting up.

Your eyes were still closed, and your breaths were finally slowing, but you could feel his eyes on you and hear him sucking his fingers.

You peeked through one eye and found him kneeling over you, completely naked now, stroking his massive dick as he watched you with a mischief glint in his dark eyes.

“I see you smirkin’, nigga,” you blurted, pointing at him as you glowed blissfully.

He tried to cover his smile but you saw it anyway. He playfully smacked your hand and said, “I was just tryna make sure you wasn’t ‘bout to pass out on a nigga.”

“Yeah, yeah..”

He continued to stroke his dick as he lay on his back beside you. You turned your head to the side to get a better look, and your mouth watered at the sight.

"Come taste this dick," he commanded as he watched you ogle it.

You sat up on your knees and leaned forward, taking it in both your hands. He had to have been eight or nine inches in length and was very girthy; his dick curved to the left too. It had been a while since you gave head, but you were determined to make him feel good.

You wrapped your lips around the tip. It was warm and velvety against your tongue. You let the soft feel of Fontaine's dick run over your tongue, relishing the taste as you took him down as far as you could go, breathing through your nose. He hissed lowly as the wet heat of your mouth engulfed him.

You licked a wet stripe up and down the length of his shaft before rising up to close your lips around the crown, stroking the rest of his rod swiftly.

You glimpsed up at Fontaine through your eyelashes. The heated stare he gave you was enough to make you feel lightheaded. His golds flashed at you as he sank his teeth into his bottom lip. The sight had you dripping for him.

He moaned your name, stretching out his legs as he cupped the back of your head. You swirled your tongue around, drawing out a long groan from him as you flattened your tongue down the underside of his tip. He lifted his hips, thrusting up as he held your head in place.

You moaned as he fucked up into your mouth, your left hand braced on his knee while the other fondled his balls. Tears pricked your eyes as you hollowed your cheeks and sucked him down as much as you could, gagging briefly as the tip of his dick slipped down the back of your throat.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he gasped as he halted his movements and gripped your shoulder, “Stop before I nut.”

You pulled off with a loud pop, placing one final kiss onto the swollen, spit-gleaming tip before climbing up his body and crushing your lips against his in a sloppy kiss. His big hands roamed all over your body, squeezing your supple ass while he kissed you back just as sloppily.

"Aight, lay back for me," he murmured, breaking the kiss and pushing you onto your back, moving with a skilled quickness to put the magnum on before slotting himself between your spread legs.

He lined himself up against your entrance, dragging his dick up and down your wet slit, only stopping to tap his fat tip against your sensitive clit, making you gasp and jerk beneath him in anticipation.

He slowly pushed inside, and your mouth fell open, but you quickly closed it, fighting back the scream that was about to escape.

“Shit,” he groaned deeply, pulling out a little once he was halfway in, and sinking back in, watching your pussy stretch around him. “You squeezin’ a nigga.”

The pressure of the stretch stung, so you just bit your bottom lip, clung to the sheets and breathed deeply through your nose until the feeling subsided.

“You good?” he asked, voice laced with concern, stopping all movement when he realized just how quiet you were being.

You opened your eyes, and his worried eyes swept your face, looking for any sign of pain. It was almost as though he was splitting you in two. You had to take a few more deep breaths in order to relax.

"Yeah, I'm good," you assured him as you let go of the covers and clung to his arms. "Your dick is huge, Fontaine goddamn."

He grinned at your confession and pulled all the way out before plunging back in, damn near knocking the wind out of you.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, legs spreading wider to grant him better access.

Once he was buried deep inside you, you let out a moan so inviting that he couldn't resist lowering his head and capturing your lips with his. You stroked his cheeks and tugged him closer, kissing him with all the fervor you could muster.

“Shit, you feel good,” he praised, moaning softly as he began to circle his hips.

“Please fuck me harder,” you sighed deeply, hands moving down to cup your breasts.

He straightened up and began to thrust inside you, picking up the tempo once he established a good rhythm. Soon, the room was filled with the sound of your wetness, his hips slamming hard against yours, and heavy breaths.

“Fontaine,” you moaned breathlessly. He groaned in response as he was beginning to love the way you called his name.

“You look so pretty takin’ all this dick,” he praised, grip on your thighs tightening as he fucked you even faster. Warmth spread across your chest at the praise, and more wetness oozed out of your tight hole.

His hand slid up your body, squeezing your breast while the other bounced freely. Listening to him groan and grunt in delight was music to your ears, and it made your clit throb harder.

The intensity of the pleasure washed over you until it was all you could feel pulsing through your veins. He was fucking you so good. When you realized how loud you were being, you snapped your mouth shut, stifling your moans.

"Nah, I want to hear you,” he growled low in your ear, thrusting harder and deeper, “Tell me how good Daddy dick feels.”

You couldn't help but whimper as he brushed against that sweet spot deep inside of you. “You—ah shit—feel so fuckin’ good!”

“I’m hittin’ that spot, huh?” Fontaine chuckled cockily, gold chain dangling against your chin.

“Yesss Daddy! Ple—please don’t stop,” you begged.

“What a nigga get if he don’t stop?”

“Anything!” you cried out, squeezing your legs around him and holding onto his shoulders as he pounded you into the mattress. “Shit— Fontaine I’m ‘bout to cum,” you breathed shakily, toes curling as your eyes snapped shut.

“I want that shit,” he grunted loudly as he felt your walls contract around him, “Cum all over this dick.”

You sank your teeth into his shoulder, biting down hard, muffling your screams of pleasure as your orgasm ripped through you. He sucked in a sharp breath at the pleasurable pain and as your cunt clenched so tightly around him, cumming hard, creaming all over his dick.

He whispered soothing things to you as your body convulsed in his arms. He held you tighter as he traced kisses all over your face and down your neck, shifting his rhythm back to a gentle rock.

Once you came to your senses, you opened your eyes and gasped at the teeth marks you had left on his shoulder.

“Oh shit Fontaine,” you whispered as you traced the bite mark with your thumb, “I ain’t mean to bite you.”

“Nah, you good,” he huffed, shrugging his shoulders, “I’m actually into that shit.”

“Good to know.”

He waited a few more seconds before pulling out. He climbed off of you, kneeled on the bed, and scooched back to give you room to move, “Hands and knees, Y/N.”

You happily obliged by rolling onto your stomach and arching effortlessly on your hands and knees.

You and Fontaine moaned in unison when he entered you in one swift motion, hips smacking against your asscheeks as he set a brutal pace. This must have been his favorite position because he wasn’t fucking around this time. Your desperate whimpers and the wet sound of skin slapping skin filled the bedroom once again. You took every inch he gave you, arms stretched out in front of you, fingers gripping the sheets as you rocked back against him.

“Yeah, that’s right,” he grunted as he smacked your asscheek, “Fuck me back just like that.”

His grip was so tight on your waist that you knew your hips would be sore in the morning. The thought alone made you wetter so you threw it back even harder.

It didn't take long for Fontaine to elicit another orgasm from you, causing your knees to buckle and slump against the mattress. He followed you down, chest pressed against your back, still pounding his thick dick inside you and panting against your ear.

As he placed all of his weight on you, his large hands wrapped around yours, fingers intertwining as he continued to give you the best dick you'd ever had. He was grinding so hard and deeply into you, muttering filthy words in your ear. The boundless pleasure was starting to become overwhelming. You couldn't cum again. You were almost certain that you'd pass smooth the fuck out if you came a fourth time. You needed him to cum.

“Fon—fuuuuck! Please cum for me!”

“You want Daddy to nut?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you whined, eyes rolling back as he brushed against your g-spot yet again.

“Aight, c’mere,” He rose back up on his knees, tugging you along with him. You braced yourself on your hands and knees. He slowly rocked into you a few times before setting a merciless pace, fucking the breath right out of your lungs.

“Goddamnit,” you rasped, “You fuck me so good!”

As he repeatedly hammered away at your g-spot, all you could do was grab the sheets and scream his name. Hot tears welled up in your eyes. As your walls tightened around his fat dick, you trembled, gasping and whimpering. You were a mess. Another orgasm blasted through you, taking you both by surprise and blurring your vision. It took all your strength not to fall forward as your thighs shook violently.

Fontaine grunted loudly as he rutted against you like a mad man, smacking your asscheeks over and over, chasing his own orgasm. He let out a low, guttural groan, thrusts faltering as he twitched inside of you, cumming hard.

You both panted harshly and were completely fucked out. Arms and legs weaker than SWV.

He trailed kisses down your sweat-glistening back before pulling out of you. Once he was free, you slumped all the way forward, your head resting against a pillow. He carefully pulled the condom off, tied it, and tossed it into the bin beside his nightstand before plopping down next to you.

Still splayed out on your stomach, you scooched as close to him as you could, cupped his face, and just gazed down into his eyes as you swiped your thumb across his hairy cheek.

He mirrored your gaze, his eyes less intense than usual, and wrapped his arm around your waist, massaging small circles into your lower back with the pads of his fingertips.

After a prolonged moment of silence, in-tune gazes, and soft caresses, you broke the silence and said, "That was fuckin' amazing."

He nodded his head in agreement so you asked him, “When can we do this again?”

“Whenever you want,” he said before pulling you down into a tender, biting kiss. He sucked in your lower lip and licked into your mouth teasingly. You tugged on his bottom lip, softly sighing as you ran your tongue across his golds, shifting so you were half on top of him, chest to chest.

Good, you thought. Because you definitely planned on sticking around. Good dick and conversation? There was no way you were passing that up.

“Goddamn ‘Taine! You ain’t have to upstage a pimp like that!” Slick Charles hollered through the walls.

You broke the kiss, gasping at the random outburst.

“Nigga, shut yo retired ass up!” Yo-Yo said just as loud.

Fontaine tried to hold it, but one look at your amused face had him chuckling and shaking his head fondly at his roommates.

#they cloned tyrone #they cloned tyrone fanfiction #they cloned tyrone fanfic #they cloned tyrone fic #Fontaine x reader #fontaine x black reader #black reader insert #John Boyega #my fics #wakandas-vibranium #black writers #black fanfiction #black fanfic writer #tct mf

1K notes · View notes

daydreamingsirens · 8 months

Text

It starts with a simple text.

You tryna fuck or nah?

Well shit he couldn't get more direct than that. You liked that about him, he didn't fuck around; he told you what he wanted and when.

And that's where you found yourself. Face down, ass up with his arms around her hips and his face buried in it.

You hiss as he slaps your ass and presses the flat of his tongue against you and drags it up slowly, laughing as he feels you turn into a quivering mess. Not to be outdone or laughed at, you throw your hips back and sway from side to side.

“Is that all you fuckin' got? You woke my ass up for this—ooh.” he closes his lips around slick flesh and slurps. You took that as your cue to stop talking, spread your thighs wider, and press your chest into the quilt. He moves back and surveys his work, watches rivulets of spit drip down into the covers before he straightens up and slides his dick through the mess.

“It wasn't like you was really sleep though. I mean unless you fall asleep with ya phone in hand, waitin' on my texts and shit. Obviously you wanted this dick.” he gives you a silly ass look and you roll your eyes.

“Keep lookin' like that and I'mma take my ass back to sleep, fool.”

“Nah,” he barely presses the tip inside, just enough for you to feel it and moves back before you can thrust back on it, “what you gon' do is take this dick right here. Now throw that ass back and quit fuckin' playin'.” He holds his dick steady as you throw your hips back and sheath him in one smooth movement before he grabs your hips and thrusts without a second thought.

“Ooh s-shit.” you moan and buries your face in your arms as he smacks your ass hard, the sound vibrating around the otherwise silent room.

“Yeah, throw that shit back.” he meets you thrust for thrust, his bruised hands splaying across your lower back as you move, slapping sounds filling the room. He hears your muffled whines and grabs your hair, pulling your head back up, “Now what was you sayin', I need you to repeat that.”

“I s-said—ooh—fuck me like you mean it. Fuck me like you fucked up whoever you fought earlier.” he tugs your hair a little harder as he pistons his hips faster, feeling you clench and loosen whenever he'd dig his nails into your hip. He strokes over your spot and you holler.

“Yes! Right there, fuck, right there!” sweat drips down your face and you doesn't give a single fuck that you're sweating your hair out or that you might wake someone up as you grip the quilt and cant your hips back and feel one palm connect with the thick flesh of your ass and the short fingernails on the other hand dig even further into the skin on your hip.

“What's my name?” he says as he tugs your head back up, wrapping the soft strands of hair around his hand.

“Fuuuuuuuuuuuck, Fontaine!” you sob as you feel yourself gush. He pulls almost completely out and slams back inside, making your knees wobble and the bed frame shake dangerously.

“Fuck yea. Scream that shit baby, I can't hear you!”

“Fontaine! I-I'm cum—ah!” you scream as you reach your peak. Fontaine slows his pace and fucks you through your orgasm before he cums inside of you and collapses on your back.

“Mm. You gon' wrap my hands up before I gotta shimmy down ya drain pipe in an hour or nah?” you roll over and throw him off and onto the floor with a grunt.

“Maybe, now let me lay here and think about my life for the next twenty minutes.”

#fontaine x reader #fontaine x black!reader #fontaine x black reader #they cloned tyrone #they cloned tyrone fanfiction #fontaine smut #cr0wnwritesit

500 notes · View notes

theeblackmedusa · 9 months

Text

he's cute

summary: "he cute. ain't right for you, though."

pairing: fontaine x black!fem!reader

warnings: 18+, language, smut, bit of a breeding kink, fontaine's kind of toxic if you squint, needles/sutures, descriptions of blood/violence, use of n word (idk why i'm warning about this but yuh), also there's a lot of AAVE in this so if you "correct" my grammar in some of the dialogue pls don't 💀

He knew he shouldn't be here, but he had nowhere else to go. He was hurt and tired and wanted you to fix him up because he always seemed to heal quicker when you did it.

Fontaine swallowed the lump in his throat as he raised his hand to knock on your green door. You were the only person in the world that made him nervous and he fucking hated it. It had been that way since you were kids. He could face any bully, stand up to any unfair teacher, but his mind went blank when it came to you.

He inhaled as deep as he could manage without sending a stabbing pain through his body before tapping his knuckles against the wood and then returned his hand to his stomach to hold his bleeding wound. A few long seconds passed before your voice came from inside.

"Who is it?"

"It's me," he grunted out weakly.

The locks clicked and Fontaine prepared himself for the wrath you would unleash when you opened the door and let your eyes fall on him. He did his best to stand up tall when the door began to creak open, but it was no use. He looked like shit either way.

"What the fuck, Fontaine?!"

Usually, you'd be concerned when Fontaine showed up on your doorstep bloody and bruised, but all you could feel at the moment was frustration. He'd told, no, promised you that the fighting would stop and that you wouldn't have to see him at his lowest anymore, but it was like he couldn't stay away.

"Got in a fight-"

"Really? I hadn't fucking noticed!"

Fontaine ignored you as you ranted about how he wasn't keeping his word when he was supposed to always keep his word to you. He couldn't focus on how upset you were because it would only get him upset with himself for making you that way.

He pushed past you as you cursed at him for going out and "being stupid" again.

"Isaac still ain't learned to keep his lil punks away from-"

"Always Isaac. Always Isaac! The way y'all fight, I'm surprised it ain't turned to fucking yet!" you laughed bitterly as he carefully lowered himself onto your couch, groaning all the way down.

"Why you all dressed up?" he questioned, switching the subject in hopes that it would make you stop fussing.

You looked good. Really good.

"I got a date, who should be here any second now, so you need to get out before he comes."

Fontaine scoffed at the fact that your pretty black dress and sexy red lips were for someone else. You should be his, but you can't be. Not with all the shit he gets himself into. As bad as he wants you, he can't put you in a position to be hurt just for being important to him.

"Date?"

"The fuck are you, a parrot? Yes, Taine! I have a date!"

You shut your door and stood in front of him, taking in the sight of him.

He looked truly pitiful, cuts and bruises forming on his dark skin. His shirt was soaked from the blood coming from his gash and he looked exhausted overall.

"What happened?" you sighed.

"Just a lil stabbin'. Nothin' I couldn't walk off-"

"Taine-"

"That's all it was," he told you.

"Did anybody-"

"Nah. Ain't nobody got killed," he assured, knowing your concerns.

It had always been a fear of yours. You hated all the violence and death, but more specifically, you hated the thought of that violence and death coming back to bite Fontaine in the ass one day. This neighborhood was full of hotheads and you'd hate for one of them to make Taine a target because somebody died at the hands of him or somebody he was associated with.

"You can't keep doing this, Taine,"

"I won't."

"Promise me."

He shook his head, pushing his hand deeper into his wound for pressure.

"You know I can't do that no more. I hate breakin' my promises to you."

Before you could respond, there was a knocking at your door and you rolled your eyes.

"That the date?" he asked, turning his head to the door.

"Probably," you huffed. "You and your bad fucking timing, Taine. Go hide in the back bedroom or something."

His eyebrows raised in amusement. This was becoming a game for him.

"Oh, you hidin' me and shit? Fuck nah, I been around the longest he gon' have to accept that," he argued. "Matter fact...come in!"

Your eyes widened at his antics and you searched for the closest object to throw at him, but your door was already opening to reveal your very confused date for the night.

"Fuck you," you mouthed to Fontaine before turning to the door.

Your date wasn't even looking at you. Instead, his eyes were planted on Fontaine, who, despite his battered and bruised state, had his grillz on full display as he smirked up at the other man.

"Kalen, hey," you finally greeted, an awkward attempt at breaking the tension in the room.

"This how you roll?" he asked, using a hand to gesture to the bloody man on your couch.

You shook your head, hoping to defend yourself.

"I know how this looks, but I promise to explain later! I-"

"You got other niggas on ya couch and you tryna explain shit? I'm done with yo ass. Thought you was tryna start somethin' for real, but you out here with other dudes."

Kalen was one of the resident hotheads, and arguing with him was pointless.

Fontaine quietly grumbled something that you refused to pay any mind to as you watched Kalen turn right back around and leave, slamming your front door behind him.

You inhaled deeply, Fontaine still mumbling under his breath about how you need to leave "bitch ass dudes like Kalen" alone.

If he wasn't one of the closest friends you had, you would have shut his ass up with a punch to the mouth by now. All you wanted was a night out with someone who could potentially get your mind off of a plain and simple fact: You and Fontaine were not and would never be together.

Every time you thought about it, your heart cracked, but it was something you had to accept. He didn't see you in the way he saw other women, so you'd have to settle for men that couldn't hold a candle to him.

"Could you shut the fuck up, Taine?" you snapped, walking to your bathroom to get the first aid kit.

The faster you patched him up, the faster he would get the fuck out of your house. Next time, you just wouldn't open the door for him. That would save you a hell of a lot of trouble.

"You always get with these bum niggas and get mad when they show that they crazy!" he yelled from the living room.

"He only got that way 'cuz you brought your bullshit to my house!" you shot back, pulling the bathroom drawer open with so much force that you were surprised you hadn't ripped it straight off. "I could have been having a peaceful night with him, but no! I'm here with no man babysitting your ass!"

He rolled his eyes at your sass and began struggling to shrug his jacket off as he awaited your return with the first aid kit. After his jacket, his bloodstained shirt followed. Now, he was shirtless and trying not to let his blood spill all over your couch, knowing that you'd stab him again if he messed it up.

Finally, you returned with a warm towel, a sewing kit, matches, and first aid. You had half the nerve to put it all away and kick his ass out on the street and let him fend for himself, but you cared too much. You always did and sometimes you hated it.

"Hold this," you ordered, shoving the matches and sewing kit into his lap before you took a seat next to him, making sure to plop down and make him jerk slightly.

"The fuck is wrong with you?! Be careful!" he gritted out, glaring at you sharply.

A sarcastic laugh escaped you.

"You aren't careful out there in the streets getting stabbed and shit. Why should I be careful with you now?"

He didn't respond, too exasperated with the night he'd had to entertain any of your taunting about it. He simply turned to you to allow a better angle for you to start cleaning him up.

You pulled out the towel and started dabbing the large, deep cut that spanned across his stomach. It almost made you feel sick. If it had been too deep, he wouldn't be here with you right now.

As you cleaned him, it was as if he could read your thoughts. He sensed your mind racing one hundred miles per second as you went through the "what ifs" of the night. He knew it was impossible to erase those thoughts for you. He was a drug dealer, after all. There was danger in the job, but he could help pull you out of them briefly.

"So, why the fuck you goin' on dates with these lames?" he questioned, exhaling in a vain attempt to fight the stinging of the towel on his injury.

You shrugged.

"Need someone to talk to, I guess," you responded shortly, not keen on telling him that these "lames" were unworthy attempts to make up for the fact that you didn't have him.

"You got me, Yo-Yo...Slick," he replied.

You shook your head. You and Yo-Yo were close, yes, but you and Slick? Not so much. It was like talking to a crazy uncle that should have been put in a retirement home a long time ago.

"I need...something else, Taine."

Dick, you thought.

You were starved of touch and you were getting desperate. You needed intimacy and you were searching for it in men that weren't even the one you wanted it from.

"Like?" he pressed as you put the towel down and began to burn the end of the sewing needle, preparing to stitch him up.

Fontaine was a lot of things, but he wasn't stupid. He knew what you were getting on about, but he liked to hear you say things. Sometimes you wondered if your embarrassment amused him.

You huffed, knowing that he wasn't going to drop it.

"I don't know, Taine. I just need something new. The vibrators ain't cutting it anymore...I need a man, sex," you admitted in frustration, warmth in your face as you tried to fight the embarrassment of your confession.

"You was finna fuck Kalen tonight?" he laughed, attempting to cover up the panic he felt inside at that revelation.

"Maybe not tonight, this time was just gon' be a date!"

Lord knows you won't take me on one, you thought, pushing the needle into his skin to start the sutures and making him hiss.

Fontaine's fingers curled into the arm of the couch as you stitched him up, eyes screwed tightly shut as he tried to steady his breathing.

If he hadn't pissed you off so bad, you'd imagine if this is how he'd look if you were on your knees for him, taking him deep into your throat and making him lose his breath.

"He cute, but he ain't good for you," Fontaine rasped through gritted teeth, finally breaking the silence that had fallen between the two of you.

"But you are?" you snapped.

"I ain't say all that," he defended.

"But that's what you meant."

Silence took over the room once more as you finished the stitches and examined your work. Once you assured that you'd fixed him up properly, you grabbed an alcohol wipe, ready to clean up the more minors scars.

"I just...Ion like him, (Y/N)."

You shook your head, gently wiping a scrape on his shoulder and sighing.

"Taine, if you didn't have every bitch in this damn neighborhood begging to sit on your dick, maybe I'd listen to what you have to say on this," you started. "But, I just wanna have fun and fuck around. Not worry about if somebody's good for me or not."

He couldn't fight it this time. Usually he could hold his tongue, keep back that confession that was constantly trying to rip through his body, but this time he couldn't. He couldn't stand the thought of you in somebody else's bed or kissing on someone that wasn't him. He wanted you, and he needed you to want him.

"We can't have fun and fuck around?" he asked you, grabbing your wrist and stopping your movements.

Your heart was beating in your chest rapidly. It was as if it was banging its fists against you in an aggressive plea for you to free it from your body.

You averted your eyes to anything else but him. They settled on the floral print in the curtains until he used his other hand to grip your chin and make you look at him.

"We can have a lotta fun, baby. What you say?" he suggested lowly, leaning into you so close that his lips were just barely touching yours.

You could have all of him if you wanted. You could've had him a very long time ago, but there was always that unspoken thing between the two of you. The elephant in the room that you two mutually decided was invisible.

"Taine," you breathed out.

"Let me show you how much fun we can have."

You weren't in control of yourself. It was as if his eyes had paralyzed you. Now, you were just his little rag doll as he lifted you in his lap and turned you so that your back was to him. You couldn't recall the exact moment it happened, but all you knew was that his hands were now groping your breasts over your dress as he attacked your neck with hot kisses.

"Them niggas out there can't make you feel the way I can, mama."

You shuddered at the nickname. "Baby" had been something he'd called you casually for as long as you could remember, but "mama"...that was new. And it made your stomach do a somersault as you imagined it.

You could picture yourself as a mama for his children. Waddling around plump and being pampered by him for carrying his baby. A soft moan escaped you at just the thought and he grinned into your neck.

"You like that? You wanna be a mama?" he asked, running his thumbs over your nipples until they hardened.

You almost broke your neck nodding in response.

"I can make that happen," he told you. "Fuck my kids into you. Make you mine for real."

An aching grew between your legs at that. You'd be trapped with him forever. No matter what went down between the two of you, you'd always be his, always have a piece of him. The thought shouldn't turn you on as much as it did, but you could feel your panties soaking from it.

"Take this off for me," he instructed softly.

You obeyed without question, standing up to slip out of the black dress. Seconds later, you were in nothing but the lacy black underwear you'd put on "just in case" you decided to let Kalen get somewhere.

Fontaine frowned at the panties and reached forward gripping them at the band before tearing the fabric. If he hadn't been spewing that shit about making you a mommy, you would have been pissed. Those were expensive.

You were completely bare in front of him and a little self conscious, but Fontaine was staring at you like you were the lottery and he'd just won. You were perfect, dark skin glowing in the moonlight that shone through the curtains, thighs that he couldn't wait to get between. How on Earth could he have resisted you for so long?

"Shit, mama. Don't think I can wait to get inside you."

You couldn't wait either. You'd been needing him.

"Then take that shit off," you told him with a sickeningly sweet smile, nodding to his pants and belt.

He only chuckled low in response and did as told, unbuckling his belt and throwing it to the side somewhere. Next, he lifted his hips, wincing as he lowered his pants down to his ankles.

Before he could start on his underwear, you were lowering yourself to your knees in front of him and pressing your cheek against his thigh. He shivered at the feeling of your warm breath.

After what felt like forever, you lifted your head, pressing a kiss to each of his thighs before pressing one to his hard cock over his underwear.

Fontaine sighed as you brushed your lips against him, teasing him mercilessly.

"Cut that shit out," he warned, eyeing you dangerously.

You smiled before pressing another kiss to the tip and bringing your hands up to the waistband before curling your fingers underneath.

"So bossy," you sighed, pulling his underwear down and letting them fall with his pants.

"Yeah, the boss say get ya pretty ass up here and take a seat."

Your core throbbed at the demand and you raised yourself up to straddle him, fingers gripping his cock and aligning him with your entrance.

Fontaine captured your lips in his, getting a taste of you before he took you. There was no going back. You both knew it.

Finally, you lowered yourself on him, both of you groaning from the sensation. The stretch stung in the best way as you tried to accommodate his size. You had to sit still to adjust, forehead resting against his until you got the courage to move.

Your pace was slow at first, still adjusting to the fullness of him inside of you, but soon, your speed increased, hips rolling against his as you rode him.

Fontaine wasted no time getting his hands back on your tits, massaging one while he worked his mouth on the other. He was addicted to them, watching them bounce as you skillfully worked his cock.

Eventually, your arms found their way around his neck as you leaned on him for support, ass bouncing as you fucked him. Fontaine cursed, letting his hands fall to your bottom to spread your cheeks more.

If the stab wound didn't kill him, you sure fucking would. He raised his hand and brought it back down, striking your ass and revving you on. He'd keep the desperate whimper you let out at the blow in mind.

"Yeah, that's it. Twerk that pretty ass on my dick, baby."

Your ass slapped against his thighs as you rode him, desperate to reach your high. You were so close. You began to feel weak, and he could tell as your pace slowed down.

"I got it, baby. I got it."

He wrapped his arms around you, stilling you against his chest as he began thrusting his hips into you, the tip of his cock hitting a delicious spot inside you that made you want to scream.

You could feel your orgasm coming like a tsunami ready to crash into you. All that was escaping you were incoherent noises as Fontaine fucked you stupid.

"Tight pussy squeezin' me," he grunted, words becoming slurred as he approached his own climax. "Let that shit out for me, mama."

As if you were hypnotized, your body responded, orgasm washing over you as your walls contracted around him, bringing him to his release as well.

Fontaine spilled into you, warm cum coating your walls as you went limp against him. His hips slowed before stopping completely and he let out a long exhale as he tried to recollect his thought.

"You have fun, baby?" he finally asked when he caught his breath.

If you had the energy, you'd slap the hell out of his cocky ass, but he'd just fucked you into exhaustion and his cum was steady leaking out of you, making a mess all over your inner thighs, so you went with the next best alternative.

"Shut the fuck up or I'm taking them damn stitches out."

•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•

let me know if you'd like to be added to either a john boyega or teyonah parris taglist bc i'm about to go crazy with them

tags: @wakandas-vibranium

#fontaine #fontaine x reader #fontaine x black!reader #fontaine x black reader #they cloned tyrone #john boyega #fanfiction #fanfic #black writer #theeblackmedusa🐍🐍

885 notes · View notes

montysstuffs · 8 months

Text

Shea Butter Baby

I wrote this in a fit of horniness. it's not great. It's absolute garbage and I'm just rambling but Fontaine got me out of my writing rut. This is literally so quick. like written in less than 30mins.

Summary: Fontaine is obsessed with you but he always talking that shit.

Warning: Fontaine's filthy ass mouth, your equally smart ass mouth, a little bit of a breeding kink if you squint, Cowgirl position.

He's getting dizzy, drunk on your whimpers and curses. Your thick and warm thighs stick to him. your slick folds coating your inner thighs. The beaming sun aids to the sweat that beads and slides between the middle of your breasts. Fontaine wanted nothing more than to lick it up. Taste everything that you are willing to give him. He wants to consume you whole. But as you bounce on his thick cock, he knows that he's the one getting consumed. Your brown eyes bore into the very soul that he knows he doesn't have. And yet, just your eyes lit it ablaze.

Your sultry moans echoed through the walls like a velvet vice around his neck along with the slapping of skin. The moment you feel yourself getting closer to your orgasm, you throw your arms around his neck and screw your eyes shut. "Don' close them pretty eyes, look at me. Lemme see them eyes," he's desperate to chase both of your orgasms.

Hes rutting up into you at this point. He's clenching his gold teeth, grunting and hissing absolute filth as he bucks his hips to match your bouncing, "finna...fill yo guts...slut you out...fuck my kids into you...fucking slut."

"Big talk coming from somebody that's bout cum just from this," you smirk down at the man.

"Girl...fuck...you," he looks pathetic biting his bottom lip as his grip on your hips tighten.

"Fuck, you already are," your attitude never falters, even as your climax approaches.

"C'mon baby, give it to me," he wants to know if you're just as smitten with him as he is with you.

AAAAHHHHHHHH GOODBYE

507 notes · View notes

slippinninque · 10 days

Text

🫣🍑Private Dancer🍑🫣

Or: You discover another half to the secret you thought you were keeping

Fontaine x blackfemreader

Warnings: MINORS DNI, cursing, use of the n-word, mentions of smoking/weed, P-in-V, mentions of insecurity, long fic

Truth was, you were a secret shaker.

A tentative twerker. An apprehensive ass-thrower. Your waist whined when being perceived directly and not in a good way. Not only did you decline to throw ass in public, you will also turn away any offers to catch it.

You learned chorography to your favorite sounds, bounced around your living room as you folded clothes. Recorded dance challenges and deleted them a few hours later. You were your very own Stallion behind closed doors.

When you were alone, though...

It took only a handful of awkward encounters and an asshole ex-boyfriend suggesting you 'stand to the side' for you to be determined to find your rhythm.

Looking up tips online and went to any beginner's classes you could find in the area. Ballroom, salsa, the pole--it all helped you understand your body outside of what it looked like. It was about what you trained it to do, what you wanted it to do.

Investing in a really good floor length mirror was the last puzzle piece you needed to really find your beat. From there on, you and the mirror were lovers.

Only your small circle of friends knew. That was thanks to enough years of trust and tequila, leading to wild nights at house parties with the radio cranked high.

You eventually learned that it was nothing to be ashamed of. It's not like it kept you away from fun or being included in the antics. If you went out with the ladies, you hyped them and kept a cute lil' two step. You held the title of Camerawoman with pride and your background cackles were famous in the group chat.

The booty wouldn't boogie with anyone else around and it's been that way for years.

It was your own little secret. No one had to know everything and you babbled enough as it was. If anyone cared to stare hard enough to a deserted, dark corner of the house--then maybe they could catch a glimpse.

The sway-snap of your hips, falling beautifully with every beat that you heard. How your hair gleamed, the way your smile swelled with the change of the songs.

Your entire body sang a song.

At least, that's what Fontaine thought when he first spotted you.

Of course you never knew he saw you. Even after the reciprocated confessions and hot-n-heavy honeymoon phase, you thought you went unseen.

Fontaine took your secret for his own, delighting in your shadow shows on the rare occasions you came out to play.

Fontaine could wait and if you had to feel alone to feel secure, then so be it. He used his admiration and desire to touch you, to be a proper witness.

Just being near you was more then enough, it would have been ungrateful to be so greedy.

------

You screamed when you saw him standing there.

The earbuds went off into the wilds of the kitchen, one skittering beneath the fridge.

Fontaine's eyes were popped wide but didn't seem remorseful for scaring your soul to the heavens.

"I thought you heard me when I came in." Fontaine hung up his keys before going in search of your earbuds. You watched after him, mortified.

You were just really into organizing the lower pantry. Lost in shaking your ass with one hand braced on the red potatoes and the other searching for the brown potatoes to put them back in their proper spot.

When you turned to grab the few 'taters that eacaped, you saw your man standing a few feet away from you with his arms crossed and head tilted.

How long has he been here?

Oh god, you have never danced for him. You have never danced in front of him--you weren't even serious. There wasn't a problem with you shimmying to the beat in his lap at a function or waving from your hips up while riding in the car to some jams.

This was different.

"Hey, hey--whatcha curling up for? C'mon now, I already know you can move."

"It-- that, um, I-I'm not that good, so, y'know..."

Fontaine pocketed your traumatized earbuds and kissed your hands until you inched them away enough for him to see your worried gaze. He tutted quietly, taking your hands into his and kissing your knuckles.

"What matters to me is what makes you feel good, baby." His voice rolled into a purr as he continued, "Lucky me that you look so fine when you do."

You wriggled as your shyness battled against the excitement of having Fontaine looking at you the way he was.

"So I don't look.... awkward? Do I have enough stuff to make it look good?"

"Wasn't nothing awkward 'bout how you were throwin' that, trust me."

Fontaine's hands went down and grabbed two handfuls of your ass. His palms were warm and wide as he kneaded, bringing you even closer to him as you went to your tiptoes. He hooked his chin over your shoulder with a happy little him, distracted by you but only for only a moment more.

"Hold up, whatchu mean by 'enough stuff' ?"

You shrugged and decided not to answer. The truth of past insecurities felt redundant and you rather liked the way Fontaine was making you feel at the moment.

Fontaine grunted, giving you another squeeze before pulling back a bit to look into you square in the eyes.

"Look here-- I'm in love with all this right here, so I'm rockin' with you regardless of what you can make it do. Don't matter if you think you ain't got enough, shit, it's enough fo', me. Understand?"

His words worked out the few kinks in your heart, aches you grown used to and ignored when they flared. You nodded more confidently and only then did Fontaine lighten his hold on you, nodding back.

No telling how long Fontaine was standing there and if you never turned around-- you would have been none the wiser. How many times has he been there? Letting you have yourself, taking only a moment for himself as he had that smile on his face.

It was the same smile he had when he took away the shea butter to rub you down himself. Or similar to the smirk on his face when following after you to the bedroom after you talked a bit too much shit.

Your shoulders dropped as you fully relaxed into his hold. The burning embarrassment in your stomach churned into smooth, seamless and leaving you suddenly eager.

"So, tell me what a nigga gotta do to get a private dance from yo' pretty self?"

His hands helped themselves to another handful, this time spreading to touch between your legs. There was promise in his eyes and you knew you only needed to say yes.

You twist away from him enough to pluck your phone from the counter, sliding through a few songs before settling on something with drums and bass. The speakers pulsed and you began backing Fontaine out of the kitchen and into the living room.

He let you push him to sit in the recliner and he made an appreciative sound at the way you leaned in, pressing a kiss to his lips. It evolved, going deeper until you pulled away with a protesting noise from Fontaine.

"That's the only touching you gonna get from me right now."

"Oh, word?"

"You're going to distract me enough as it is." You said, stepping away from him and stretching your arms over your head.

"Bold as hell to call me a distraction." Fontaine's brows rose as he leaned back to make himself comfortable, "Lookin' at me with them eyes..."

His eyes hooked onto your hips. You stretched, teasingly bending over and holding onto your ankles as you gave a cute lil' shake, looking over your shoulder coyly .

"What can I use to look if it ain't my eyes?" You asked, "How am I supposed to see you?"

"Don't worry 'bout what you see back here, act like a nigga ain't even here."

"Oh, that's impossible now. You still make me feel so shy..."

Fontaine snorted and your gave a giddy smile in return.

What you wore was actually perfect. Tiny shorts and cami, perfect for when you were bounding around to clean house. Just what you needed for you to do a little Bend n' Snap for your man.

The music changed and you looked over at him in surprise, he held your phone but watched you with a mischief. Reaching for the little, polka dotted stash jar you left on the coffee table to pull out a blunt to wag at you.

"Go on, show me what you got fo' me."

Waiting until he fired up, you sauntered closer and tied up the front of your already teeny tank. Fontaine's eyes honed in to your nipples, distracted as he took a drag. When his fingers crooked, you leaned in enough and pursed your lips.

Fontaine blew a strong stream that you breathed in and held. You held as long as you could before releasing the smoke a final time into the air.

Fontaine's blunts were no-nonsense, where he still rolled with leaves rather than the papers you preferred. It felt like a straight shot to the head, the smoke lifting all the chatter in your mind to leave you swirling in electric eagerness.

Without further ado, you showed him what you could do.

Your hands braced on your knees, clasped above your head, went down to touch your toes. You rolled your stomach and snapped your hips mouthing the words to Fontaine as you fully felt yourself. You extended your arms and tried to be as dramatically sexy as possible. Touching all of Fontaine's favorite places yourself, pushing up your breast and skimming your hand between your legs for him to see.

Fontaine was a chaotic DJ as he flipped through your playlist. He went from instrumentals filled with nothing but baselines and adlibs, to Glorilla to Megan Thee Stallion to Trina. Whistling at every peek of cheek and nip, calling out to see the 'pretty lady' when you coyly fanned your legs at him from the floor.

When you got down on your hands and knees, you felt a smack against your cheeks hard enough to snap your illusion. You leaned onto your forearms, ass up in the air, and broke into laughter as more bills rained down. It was like a confetti canon was let off or someone hit the Golden Button for you.

"That felt personal." You said over your shoulder at where Fontaine sent another fan of bills into the air, "You tryin' to tell me something?"

"Yeah--to bring that ass over here so I can get my hands on you," Fontaine patted his thigh, "Thought this was gonna be a lap dance..."

"Private does not mean lap." You sniffed. Honestly, you weren't sure because you've never been to a strip club but with the way he was throwing bills--the living room was cosplaying as a VIP section at King of Diamonds.

You took your time in coming closer, wondering if you could skip on singles before Fontaine snatched you right up when you were close enough.

"This is too much! When did you even have time to take out all these damn dollars?"

"I been waiting on this, baby. Shit, I woulda threw gold if it ain't' hurt..."

You laughed and looked around at the singles carpeting your floor in disbelief, it's like you had a new rug installed! There were dollars all overt the coffee table and even some fluttered over to coat the entertainment center. Was there a dollar up in the light fixture? Was that a fire hazard?

Fontaine's teeth nipped at your earlobe, turning your next remark into soft moan. His hand ran up to cup your neck, breathing you in with a hungry hum.

His voice was all smoke and honey, "This is all well an' good, but I think I'm feeling a certain type of way..."

"Is it the horny way?"

Your cheekiness got you mean little pinch to your sensitive nipples. Jolting only pushed you closer to his greedy hands. It was his turn to touch. He plucked and twisted your nipples, making you mewl and melt into his touch. You ground down into his lap where you felt he needed you most, making him sigh into your ear.

"Gonna be the death of me, ain't ya?" Fontaine husked, "Here lies 'Taine, bust so hard he went on to glory. He leaves everything to his pretty-booty havin' lady."

"What if I promise to shake somethin' on your grave, would that be better--no biting!"

Fontaine growled something into the mouthful of shoulder he had, shaking his head gently and making you squeal and scrunch up to try and escape.

Still warm from being in the spotlight of Fontaine's attention and the pulsing music, your head swam with delight. It felt like victory. You turned and kissed at the side of his face before your lips met.

When your grinding became more insistent, Fontaine leaned back with his lip caught between his teeth.

Allowing yourself to be admired and seen was like nothing else. Fontaine has always shown nothing but devotion to you but you still felt like he was...just being nice. You were holding yourself back from assumed disappointment but this whole time he's been waiting on you.

Talk about blocking your blessings...

"That's what I'm talkin' about. Show me how you feel."

You looked over you shoulder, holding his hands against your breast as you rode in his lap. Fontaine hissed, one of his hands quickly escaped to clasp around your hips to grind up into you.

Leaning forward enough on your hands, your delicates went directly in his face as you tugged at his pant leg pointedly. Fontaine ignored your impatience and ran a hand over you, from between your shoulders down to the backs of your thighs.

You could hear him popping the button on his jeans and the rattle of his belt.

"How bad you want it, pretty?"

"Bad, real bad."

"'Do anything fo' it' bad?"

" 'Let you do anything to me' bad."

It happened fast after that, Fontaine righted you in his lap enough for him to press into your pussy. The stretch dropped your mouth open and Fontaine groaned at how wet you already were.

LOW started and you bounced to the beat, grinning dopily up at the ceiling at the feel of him hitting all your good spots. Your shorts provided a wonderful friction against your clit from how Fontaine shoved the fabric aside to let himself in.

It felt so naughty. To fuck on Fontaine like you were starved for him to the music rattling your walls. The thrill twisted with desire in your stomach, hurtling you faster and faster to your peek.

Suddenly more bills rained down and paired with Fontaine's laugh, more lust than amusement--it pushed you over the edge.

"Thta's it, I feel you, g'on and get yo' shit. Can't believe yo' pretty ass was shy..."

Fontaine took over. A bruising grip onto your hips, tipped you back into his chest as he thrust up into you in earnest.

"Puttin' that shit on me heavy, acting like you don't know what you do to me." Fontaine found a few singles that were being crumpled between you and pressed them to your dewy, lower back.

"Shieet, looks better than money. Wish you can see as much as yo' ass feel it, fuck." He gave your ass slap, you called out as you came. It felt like fire shot through you, leaving you reaching for any bit of him to clutch.

Between the music still going and Fontaine handling you so well, the sensations left you gasping. Legs burning and head filled with needy thoughts, you protested when Fontaine stopped your bouncing and maneuvered you until he slid free.

"Oh, show ain't over yet--you feel me?"

You did. Fontaine was heavy and hot where he tapped all over your ass, leaving kisses of wet spots. It filled you with a flash of pride or maybe even possessiveness. Craining your neck, you did you best to get a glimpse but Fontaine hand cupped your neck licked the shell of your ear.

"Yeah, that's you gettin' all over me. Tryna make me messy just how you like it, huh?"

He hissed when you writhed in his lap, ghost riding his dick until he gave you a little push to stand. Your mouth dropped open to whine but Fontaine turned you towards the middle of the room.

"Show me how you want it."

Fontaine held himself tight at the base, his lips lax enough for his gold to wink in the lamp light.

As gracefully as you could--you went down onto your knees before lying back to put your legs in the air. You rolled over in the blanket of dollars, wriggling down your shorts to one ankle until you could flick them away.

Fontaine grinned down at you, kneeling to slot his palm into the arch of your foot, his other hand stroking himself.

Fontaine moved your other thigh to the side around his hip, leaving you spread completely. You were still working, still giving him a show, but you couldn't bear to keep your hands off of him.

He hooked one of your legs over his shoulder, eyes fixed to where his dick bumped against your mound.

"Prettiest thing touchin' soil and you think it ain't enough..."

"Hurry up, Mr. Lapdance--the show ends when the music does."

When you hand ran under his shirt, Fontaine tugged it over his head swiftly and much to your delight. The sight of his broad chest and delicious skin made you all the more impatient.

Fontaine's eyes flashed.

The image formed in your mind was electric. Pretending to be a little Stallion and running into a hungry handed, greedy eyed Fontaine in low strobe lights.

"You lucky we ain't meet like that. D'you wanna know what I would do if you showed out like that on a pole?

Not knowing just what he had in store for you as you led him to the privacy booths--intent on earning his attention.

When you licked your lips, Fontaine groaned softly, you smiled at him.

What's another little secret?

Pressing into your heat, Fontaine grumbled something about Home Depot.

"I did take a few classes, if you ever wanna see ahn--!"

Drunk on pleasure, you could only cry out as Fontaine chased his thoughts out loud. The change in position, with him looming above you muttering filthy promises--it was too much for you.

"Shouldn't have told me that, now I gotta put a stage in here somewhere in this bitch..."

"O-Oh fuck, 'Taine!"

He froze to watch your eyes roll close as you shook apart beneath him with a sob. Fontaine lowered himself to bracket you between his forearms to kiss you, swallowing your moans. His hips snapped, lost rhythm and then he was coming with satisfied growl.

That was it. You were dead. Your very soul leaked onto his thighs and the carpet below.

'Here lies me, twerked too close to the sun...'

Fontaine releases a heavy, satisfied hum into your ear as he finally collapsed onto you. It should have been stifling and your knew your legs would be useless for the next while, but all you could do was grin at the feel of the dollar bill stuck to his shoulder.

What a way to go....

------

When the playlist finally ended, the silence found you both covered in sweat and dollar bills. Fontaine rubbed a loc of your hair between his fingers and you rested your eyes--head on his shoulder. Your hand wandering aimlessly across his chest as you began to doze.

He tugged gently to get your attention, "Want you to do me a favor."

"Mn. If it involves moving, you gotta pay me."

Fontaine snorted and flicked away the bill stuck to the thigh you've strewn across him. You shrugged a shoulder with a lifted brow, you got me there.

He continued, "If you can help it...I'd like for you not to hide from me anymore."

The change in his tone had you searching for his gaze and of course it was already on you. Fontaine took your hand in his, turning yours until he held it in his open palm.

"I...okay. I can do that for you."

You weren't ready to talk about the past and trying to make sense of your complicated feelings of being perceived. Something told you that it wasn't the time, maybe it was you hiding again, but at least Fontaine took your words earnestly.

He kissed your hand once, twice before leaning his head back and closing his eyes as he went back to playing with your locs.

"Oouf you are terrible." You hid your face into his neck, "But once my legs come back online, you're in trouble."

"Good..and no more watchin' Baddies. Watching them girls fucks wit' your disposition," Fontaine reached for a handful of bills to sprinkle all over you, "You wanna be a Stallion? Lemme know and I'll give you a ride."

Fontaine patted your ass, "Can't threaten me with good troubles, baby."

-----------

ending notes: thank you so much for reading! It's a long one but the idea wouldn't leave me alone! Might need some tweaking and editing since it's another Before Work Drop lmao! Please tell me what you think and what other things I should try, don't be shy! Comment and reblog please! 💕🥰💜

Taglist: @megamindsecretlair @sageispunk @miyuhpapayuh @cardierreh15 @mcondance @thadelightfulone@mag1calenchantr3ss@cocoeffects@wide-nose-and-wonderful @8ttached@thadelightfulone@hobiesmain@thickeeparker@longpause-awkwardsmile@ms-angiealsina

(Added a more after some slight revisions 🫣)

#fontaine x black reader #fontaine x reader #Fontaine x you #x black reader #they cloned tyrone #They Cloned Tyrone fic #fontaine #john boyega #Fontaine x blackfemreader #Fontaine x black fem reader #they cloned tyrone fic

133 notes · View notes