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genshinluvr · 7 months

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Watch the World Burn

Pairings: Various Genshin Men x Villain!Isekai'd!Reader

Summary: Those who have wronged you, chased you out of the region, and ostracized you will all go down with Teyvat. You will watch the world burn as bodies around you fall to the ground one by one.

Note: This is a lot shorter than the first part, mainly because there's not much to really type about. Plus, I mainly wanted this fic to be graphic and depressing. It's an angst and villain!isekai'd!reader, so I might as well make it all angst and all death. I don't recommend reading this if you were hoping there would be a happy ending. Not every man speaks in this story, but uh, everyone tagged is gone. Not sure about how I feel about this fic, but oh well. It is what it is. Anyway! I don't post anywhere else but on Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and on AO3 (Aaliah_exo).

Warnings: Beheading, suicide, torture, blood, decapitation, betrayal, lots and lots of death

Word Count: 3.8k

This is part 2 of Where I Truly Belong.

You hear nothing but the ocean waves crashing against each other. You’re waist-deep in the ocean, letting the cool water hug your body. It has been four months (Abyss time) since you have seen Dainsleif and four months (actually four days) since you have dealt with the former Geo Archon of Liyue. The Abyss Order has yet to cause any further damage to Teyvat. However, it doesn’t mean the people of Teyvat get to feel at peace. You and the Abyss Order were just getting started.

Splashing and squeaking pulls you out of your thoughts. You blink and look down to see three leisurely otters floating around you, their bellies facing the sky while gazing at you curiously. You stare back, watching them float closer to where you stand. As the otters swim closer, you hesitantly reach out to pet them, only to stop. You don’t want to taint something as innocent as the creatures of Teyvat, but it’s too late now, isn’t it?

You have destroyed many environments of these innocent creatures. Yet, you worry about tainting the three others that are now floating in front of you? The otters squeak curiously, hugging the seashells to their chests, their little noses twitching as they sniff you. One otter swims closer, leaning up to nudge you with their nose. You hold your hand out, and the otter presses their head into the palm of your hand.

For once, you smile and stroke the otter’s head while they squeak happily. The other two otters mimic the first otter— swimming closer and nudging you for attention and pets. You feel at peace in a region you’re not welcome in. Despite not meeting the Hydro Archon and the citizens of Fontaine, you know you’re not welcome in the land of the Hydro Archon. You don’t need to step into the region to know your presence is unwelcome.

A shadow looms over you and the three otters, causing you to freeze, and the otters look up and squeak. You turn to see the Chief Justice of Fontaine standing before you, thighs deep in the water. You size him up, taking a step back to keep the distance between you and the mysterious man. The Chief Justice of Fontaine holds both hands up in front of him.

“I am not here to hurt you,” says Neuvillette.

You clench your hands into fists. “How can I be so sure that you won’t?” You demand, glaring at Neuvillette.

The otters squeak happily, swimming over to the Chief Justice of Fontaine. Neuvillette looks away from you, and a soft smile appears on Neuvillette’s face as he squats down and starts petting each otter. The otters toss their seashells in the air, presenting the pink and vanilla-colored seashells to the long-haired man. While Neuvillette is distracted with the three otters, you’re surveying your surroundings to make sure there aren’t any people lingering around the area.

Once you double-check to make sure Neuvillette is alone, you look over at the Chief Justice of Fontaine, only to see him now standing tall and gazing at you curiously. You clear your throat and cross your arms over your chest, hands itching to open a portal for you to return to the Abyss. It was risky of you to leave the Abyss on your own without Enjou, Agnarr, and Egill at your side to protect you from those who want your head on the silver platter.

You look away from the tall man. “It’s best you leave, Chief Justice of Fontaine. It’s not safe for you to be seen with me… unless the Hydro Archon sent you to kill me,” you mutter bitterly, narrowing your eyes at the white-haired man.

A smile ghosts over Neuvillette’s face. Despite being the Ruler of the Abyss Order, you still cared for his safety. Maybe you’re not as hostile with Neuvillette because you didn’t step foot in Fontaine, nor were you chased out of the region by angry mobs of vision holders. Or maybe, just maybe, the Abyss Order has yet to fully consume you entirely. You still have a small chunk of humanity in you. At least, that’s what Neuvillette is assuming as he continues to analyze you. A squeak and nudge pull your attention away from the Chief Justice of Fontaine. The otter holds up a seashell toward you, gazing at you curiously.

You’re about to grab the seashell when the air suddenly feels out of place. You turn to see Wriothesley charging toward you, prepared to attack you. The three otters dive into the water and swim off in fear. Wriothesley lunges in the air, his fist raised to hit you. You jump out of the way and open a large portal where you previously stood.

“You are under arrest in the Court of Fontaine for— AH!” Wriothesley falls into the portal, and the portal closes up behind him.

Neuvillette narrows his eyes at you, gripping hard on his cane. “Where did you send him?” Neuvillette demands.

You point over to the east, and Neuvillette follows your gesture. A hole opens up in the sky, and Wriothesley plops into the ocean, creating a moderate-sized splash. You sigh in defeat, rubbing your neck. So much for wanting peace— unfortunately, as the Rule of the Abyss, you will never see peace unless you’re in the Abyss.

“I’ll take my leave now,” you say, preparing to leave when an arrow whizzs past you, nicking your neck.

A familiar obnoxious laugh rings in the air, sending chills down your spine. Neuvillette glares at the perpetrator and criminal of Fontaine. The ginger-haired Harbinger struts toward you and Neuvillette with his hands on his hips and head held high. Childe’s bow materializes in his hands, aiming another arrow at your face.

“Think you can get away from me easily?” Childe asks, the corner of his lips quirking up.

Great, more trouble to deal with. Childe lunges toward you and starts attacking. Somehow, Wriothesley is beside Childe, aiding him with the attacks toward you. The strange thing is that Neuvillette isn’t joining in on the fight. Instead, he’s watching from the sidelines.

You roundhouse kick Childe in the face, causing the ginger to stumble back against Wriothesley. Before the two men land on the ground, you open a portal below them and quickly shut it. You don’t look at Neuvillette; instead, you open another portal and step into the galaxy-like portal, leaving the Chief Justice of Fontaine alone.

— Somewhere in the Abyss —

Chained to the wall, Dainsleif leans his head against the wall, closing his eyes with a defeated sigh. A strange sound fills the prison cell, causing Dainsleif to open his eyes. Dainsleif hears a faint scream echoing in the portal, although the same screams are getting louder and louder. Before Dainsleif knows it, Childe and Wriothesley tumble out from the portal, landing on the cold, hard ground.

Childe and Wriothesley quickly get off the ground and look around, still disoriented from their journey through the starry wormhole. Dainsleif looks at the jail cell bars to see two Abyss Lectors standing there, their arms over their chests. Dainsleif frowns and closes his eyes, tilting his head back against the wall.

“I didn’t ask for a cellmate,” Dainsleif mutters.

Agnarr and Egill look at one another before cackling, their laughter echoing through the dungeon. Childe and Wriothesley grab the metal bars, glaring at the two Abyss Lectors as the two Abyssal beings continue to cackle maniacally.

“Those who try to harm the Ruler of the Abyss shall suffer the consequences,” Agnarr thunders, electro crackling in the clenched fist of the Abyss Lector.

Egill and Agnarr soon open a portal and disappear through the celestial door. Childe growls and punches the bars, making Wriothesley and Dainsleif stare at the angry ginger Harbinger. Childe plops on the ground and sighs, resting his head against the wall and closing his eyes. Wriothesley leans against the wall, not saying a word. Killing you is going to be a lot harder than they thought.

Meanwhile, somewhere in the Abyss, you stand before the Anemo Archon. Kneeling before you, arms chained behind his back, the Anemo Archon glares up at you while you smirk at him. You would comment about how pathetic he looks, but his face doesn’t even belong to him. You squat down and grab him by the chin.

“If I kill that traveler, would you also steal his body and parade around Teyvat like how you did with that poor, poor, nameless bard?” You coo, digging your sharp nails into his flesh. “You enjoy stealing someone’s corpse and playing dress up, don’t you?”

Venti glares at you. “Don’t you dare speak on the name of—”

“Name? Oh, please. I never said anyone’s name, Barbatos. You have to be foolish to think I said someone’s name when I didn’t name anyone,” You scoff, releasing the Anemo Archon’s chin and walking to your throne.

Enjou stands beside your throne as you sit down and cross your right leg over your left. You look at two Abyss Heralds and nod. The two Abyss Heralds tighten their grip on Venti’s shoulders, holding him down as Enjou and Egill levitate over to the weak Anemo Archon. Agnarr stands beside your throne, watching the scene unfold.

You lean back in your seat, nodding. “You may begin,” you say nonchalantly.

Flames engulf Enjou and Egill’s hands before they grab the Anemo Archon’s arms, burning through the thin fabric of his clothes. Venti cries out in pain, writhing and trying to escape from their grasp. You yawn and stretch your arms in the air before snickering.

“I’m not sure if you’re screaming and crying in agony because you’re in pain or if it’s because the body of the nameless bard is being harmed,” You tease, tapping your fingers on your biceps and smirking at the writhing Archon.

Agnarr leans down, whispering in your ears, “Your Highness, what do you wish for this Archon’s fate to be?”

You close your eyes, tapping your cheek while trying to block out the sounds of the Anemo Archon screaming and screeching in agony as he continues to burn alive. What shall his fate be? Should you let him live or watch him burn?

You smirk bitterly. “I would say kill him, but Barbatos is a wind spirit cosplaying as his dead friend. Kill the vessel and the wind spirit,” You order. “If it’s impossible to kill the wind spirit, then let the power of the Abyss course through his veins.”

The sounds of Venti’s anguish screams echo through the corridor of the Abyss Order temple, sending chills down the spines of three prisoners. You prop your arm on the armrest, watching the sleeves of the bard’s clothes wither away and his pale flesh turning into an angry red before melting and dripping on the ground. The scent of burning flesh fills the air, causing you to scrunch your nose in disgust and pinch your nose. Agnarr opens the portal beside you and gestures for you to enter the celestial doorway. You shake your head, insisting that you want to watch the Anemo Archon fall before your eyes. Agnarr chuckles and closes the portal, watching you pull out a popcorn bucket from thin air and begin munching away. One Archon down, six more to go.

“I will be watching the world burn as the bodies fall around me one by one,” You say softly.

Agnarr looks at you. “Is that your wish, Your Highness?”

You smirk. “Of course. Those who go against the Abyss Order shall watch their friends and loved ones perish in the hands of the Abyss Order,” you state.

And who are they, the Abyssal beings, to deny the wishes of their dearest Ruler? Your wish is their command. After what felt like hours, you retreat to your bedroom and collapse on your bed, closing your eyes. The torture and the death of the Anemo Archon was quite a show.

Although it’s a shame that he didn’t fight back. I mean, it’s not like he can fight back anyway. If his arms weren’t chained and bound behind his back, he still wouldn’t stand the chance. Barbatos is a weak Archon— nothing more than a wind spirit who loves to cosplay as the dead. How shameless.

Enjou stands at the foot of your bed. “Your Highness, are you headed off to bed now?” asks the Pyro Abyss Lector.

“I am, Enjou. Despite having the power of the Abyss Order coursing through my veins, I, unfortunately, still need to get some sleep,” You lament.

Enjou nods and bids you a goodnight before exiting your bedroom. You lay on your bed, pulling the blankets to your chin before drifting to sleep. Meanwhile, on Teyvat, flames continue to kiss every surface it nears. There’s not enough water in the world to extinguish the raging flames of the Abyss Order. Abyssal beasts and beings lurk in the corners of Teyvat, stalking their prey before striking when the victim least expects it.

“Where is Thoma?” Lord Ayato asks, walking through the Kamisato Estate, searching for the blond man.

The blond man pops up from the end of the hallway, waving to the Kamisato heir. “I’m right here, my Lord. Is there anything I can help you with?” Thoma asks, smiling at the blue-haired man.

The Kamisato Heir sighs in relief, glad to see his retainer amidst the chaos running amok on Teyvat. While the flames have yet to kiss the City of Eternity, the orange and red glow of the blazing fire illuminates the night sky. The smoke suffocates and buries the glimmering stars.

Ayaka peeks her head from the corner, curious. “Did something happen, big brother? You look… shaken,” Ayaka says cautiously, approaching her brother and blond retainer.

The head of the Kamisato clan looks over at Gorou and Heizou, who gulp and nod. Gorou lets out a shaky sigh, crossing his arms over his chest and looking at the ground. Due to the chaos running rampant on Teyvat, the death toll skyrockets.

“We have found several bodies of… familiar faces,” Gorou says, his voice shaking.

Heizou looks at the list of names. “Arataki Itto was found dead in Chinju Forest— his horns were ripped out of his skill and plunged into his eye sockets. Kaedehara Kazuha was found dead in the ocean. His death has been ruled by accidental drowning,” Heizou says, his hands shaking.

The lights in the Kamisato Estate flicker before plunging the five Inazumans into total darkness. Ayaka whimpers and stands close to her brother, grabbing onto his sleeves tightly. Two portals open in the center of the Kamisato Estate, and out comes the two Abyss Heralds. Everyone in the room draws out their weapons, backs pressed against each other, preparing to attack the Abyss Heralds. The first person to go is Thoma— the Cryo Abyss Herald throws shards of ice in Thoma’s direction, piercing him in the chest, neck, and head. Thoma’s body drops to the ground as Ayaka and Ayato let out a piercing scream.

The Hydro Abyss Herald slams the Kamisato Heir against the wall before slicing the heir in half at the torso. Gorou, Heizou, and Ayaka were soaked to the bone and frozen multiple times before ultimately dying of hypothermia and decapitation.

Just as the two Abyss Heralds return to the Abyss, the Cryo Abyss Herald grabs the head of the Kamisato Heir and tosses the head in the air.

“What are you doing with that? Leave it at the Estate,” the Hydro Abyss Herald says, irritated.

The Cyro Abyss Herald snorts. “I think Their Highness would appreciate us bringing back a souvenir from Inazuma,” the Cryo Abyss Herald retorts, stepping into the portal with the head of the Kamisato Heir.

“If we’re going to do that, we might as well return with all their heads,” groused the Hydro Abyss Herald.

The Cryo Abyss Herald stops halfway into the portal and turns around. “Oh? And what’s stopping you?”

In the Chasm, you stand before the Geo Archon, his face in your hands. His arms are bound behind his back. Enjou and Agnarr hold Zhongli by the biceps, watching the former Geo Archon fight against their grasps pathetically. You giggle and stroke his cheek with your thumb.

“Oh, Zhongli. What’s so bad about joining the Abyss Order, hmm?” You coo.

Zhongli is trying to fight back, but he can’t hold on any longer. Zhongli’s amber eyes slowly turn pitch black, black veins creeping up his face. Zhongli growls and thrashes around, only for Enjou to hit him in the back of his head to immobilize him.

You whisper, “Don’t fight it, Morax. Embrace the power of the Abyss Order coursing through your veins.”

Zhongli goes limp, breathing heavily. You take a step back and watch Zhongli curiously, head tilting to the side. Zhongli suddenly breaks out of Enjou and Agnarr’s grasp, charging at you like an angry Lawachurl. You remain still, waiting to see what the former Geo Archon is going to do. Enjou and Agnarr are about to attack Zhongli, but you hold your hand up, shaking your head. Enjou and Agnarr watch anxiously.

Zhongli stops before you, staring you down. His body is shaking, hands clenched at his sides. Zhongli’s polearm materializes in his hands. He raises the weapon in the air, and before you know it, Zhongli plunges the blade into his chest. You gasp in horror, watching the former Geo Archon sink the polearm further into his chest cavity, blood spurting out of his chest like a water fountain. Zhongli looks up at you, blood spilling out of his mouth as he smiles at you ruefully.

“I do not wish to harm you, [Y/N]. I would rather die than hurt you,” Zhongli coughs, falling to his knees.

You run toward Zhongli, only for Egill to hold you back. “Zhongli….” You whisper.

The ex-Archon coughs. “I’m sorry things have to turn out this way,” Zhongli rasps, closing his eyes.

You stare at Zhongli in disbelief before laughing weakly. You don’t know how to handle all of this. Zhongli claims that he chose to kill himself because he didn’t want to hurt you, but you don’t know if Zhongli’s telling the truth or if he’s trying to get you to crack. Enjou offers to dismember Zhongli’s limbs, but you protest against the idea of dismembering Zhongli. As much as you would love to scatter the remains of the former Geo Archon throughout Liyue, you decide not to do it. Instead, you have his corpse on display in your throne room. It, dare you say it, hurts you that you can’t give the deceased Geo Archon a proper burial. However, out of all the people you dealt with on Teyvat, the only person who deserves a proper burial is the former Geo Archon. Perhaps with Abyssal magic, you’ll find a way to preserve the deceased Archon’s body.

You step out of the gloomy palace of the Abyss Order, looking around the vast darkness. You have yet to return to Teyvat, but you don’t see the need to. You pinch your nose in disgust and turn to Egill, who’s levitating toward you.

“Perhaps the biggest mistake I have made is choosing to display the corpses of my enemies,” you sigh, shuddering with disgust.

Angry shouts grab your and Egill’s attention. You turn to see a black-haired Harbinger struggling against Klingsor’s iron grip. You and the black-haired Harbinger make eye contact, and he shouts for you.

“I betrayed everyone in the Fatui and helped you carry out your plans! This is what I get in return?!” shouts the Regrator, his eyes blazing with anger.

Klingsor levitates toward you and Egill, dragging the Regrator, also known as Pantalone, along. The black-haired Harbinger isn’t too pleased to find out his assistance will not spare him of his impending doom. Heck, everyone in Teyvat— at least, those with visions— have been slain. You stand before Pantalone, chuckling.

You grab Pantalone by the chin and tilt his head upward. “Out of all the Harbingers, you treat me the worst. You put a bounty over my head, offering up to almost two hundred million Mora. It’s comical to see you switch sides so fast after realizing the Abyss Order has taken over Teyvat,” you chortle.

You release Pantalone’s face and walk away. “Klingsor, you can do as you please with Pantalone. I have three prisoners to visit,” you say nonchalantly, waving your hands around.

Klingsor drags a screaming Pantalone away as you and Egill walk to the palace. Walking past the display, you tap on each head, humming contently.

“This place is really coming together, don’t you think? At first, I thought about having them hold their severed heads on their lap, but having their heads on stakes is way better,” you say, turning to Egill.

Egill clears his throat. “Your Highness, is it too late for me to inform you that two out of three of the prisoners have killed one another due to being driven to the point of insanity?” Egill asks, peeking at you.

You stop in your tracks and sigh. “Is that so? Darn, I was hoping to have them fight to the death in a ring,” you kick the nearest marble on the ground. “What about Dainsleif? Is he still alive?”

Egill doesn’t reply and leads you to the dungeon where Dainsleif was kept. Upon arriving at the jail cell, you stop in your tracks.

“Egill?” You keep your eyes on the jail cell, “Where is Dainsleif?” You ask through clenched jaws, now looking at the empty jail cell aside from the chunks of flesh and pool of blood on the concrete floor.

A portal opens before you, and Dainsleif lunges from the portal, tackling you to the ground. You glare up at Dainsleif. Dainsleif plunges a knife into your chest before crying out in pain. Dainsleif looks down to see a polearm impaling his chest. Dainsleif collapses on top of you as your vision becomes blurry. If this is how it ends for you, then so be it. At least you were able to watch the world burn. You close your eyes and prepare for your impending death, but it never arrives. You open your eyes to see Egill, Agnarr, and Enjou hovering over you.

“Did you really think we would let our Ruler die?” Enjou asks smugly, crossing his arms over his chest.

Agnarr helps you up and kicks Dainsleif’s body to the side. You place your hand over where Dainsleif stabbed you, only to see that the wound is gone. You point at Dainsleif and gesture for Egill to leave with the body. Egill bows and tosses Dainsleif’s body over his shoulders and walks off.

“How many times did we save your ass, Your Highness?” Enjou teases, nudging you with his elbow.

You roll your eyes and pinch the bridge of your nose. “Shut it, Enjou,” you grumble, walking out of the dungeon. “Make sure someone cleans up the mess in the cell.”

“Yes, Your Highness,” Agnarr and Enjou murmur, following you out of the dungeon.

Note: Now that I got this out of the way, I do have school coming up very soon. Because this is my final year in university, I really need to focus on school and do well so I can graduate on time. I am going to be on hiatus, meaning the Genshin and HSR isekai fics will be put on pause. I will try to post something every now and then, but I (and the isekai fanfics for both Genshin and HSR) will be on hiatus. Tbh, idk who reads the notes at the end of my fics, but I'll announce my hiatus separately very soon. Since school is starting soon, this will be the last time I post invite links to my Discord server, and I will not be giving out invite links after the link expires. If you want to join, you can click the temporary link to [Zhongli's Abode]. Anyway, to all my new and returning readers, keep in mind that I ONLY post on my Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and my AO3 (Aaliah_exo)! Nowhere else except Tumblr and AO3!

Taglist for my Isekai'd!Reader one-shot series and my overall taglist: @yoru-trash, @kaoyamamegami, @deartoru, @luminarymoonlight, @ins4nebish, @bokuto-kinnie, @exhaustedcommunist, @jadedist, @chalksdreams, @thelost-in-time, @ventisweetheart, @hispasian-otaku, @samarill, @testsubject0012, @kazuhaprnt, @lunarapple, @vinnie-w, @heyimkay, @eliciana, @jjvr4yxc, @sovermike-21-blog, @nightlysunn, @thelovebuggs, @urlocalheizousimp, @sunlightstarr, @asoulsreverie, @immahuman, @inapileofbooke,(Accounts that I was unable to tag have been removed. Those who don't want to be tagged in certain stories are not tagged in this particular post. Remember to check your settings to see if you're allowing people to mention you/tag you in posts or not)

Read more of my works on my Masterlist / Masterlist 2 | Maybe support me by tipping me on Ko-Fi or by reblogging my fanfics! ^^ I will also be posting exclusive fanfics on Ko-Fi as well very soon! I might post all of my stories on there too, but who knows. You can also tip me on Tumblr if you'd like as a way to show support! ^^

409 notes · View notes

hobies-princealbert · 7 months

Note

Could you do an imagine of Fontaine and a plus-size reader and how he would be when it comes to having sex (specifically face riding)? Also, I just found your blog and love it!! ❤️💋

as a plus size person myself, thank you for the ask

ヽ(*´＾｀)ﾉ(*＾3＾)/～

(Sorry for the abrupt ending)

☆

fontaine x plus size! reader | ( sfw + nsfw )

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♤ when it comes to a partner, taine wasn't one to really have a preference. he was the kinda nigga that would just shrug his shoulders and say "if she bad as fuc', then she bad as fuc', " anytime some one asked his preference.

♤ at first you thought it was just all talk, probably he wanted to prove something by implying he'd be into plus size women. or he wanted to just get into your panties. either of the two would surprise you, you've experience it one too many times.

♤ but as always, taine did surprised you. whenever he'd talk you up, it never felt forced or try hard. he was just cool, and never dug where he wasn't wanted. he made his interest clear from the beginning, and he wasn't shy about it. if it wasn't the hard stares. the light touches. offers to give you a ride anytime, anywhere. or the obvious suggestive compliments. taine wanted you. bad.

" ight ma, I gotta head out to get some shi' done. oh and you real good in that top today. damn good. see you later. "

♤ your first kiss with taine was spontaneous as ever. and frankly even more surprising, initiated by you. you went for it. you just went for it. it took you so long to accept the fact that taine liked you. and even longer to admit that you liked him too. but once you did, you couldn't shake the thought of pressing your lips to his.

♤ that feeling became so overwhelming everytime you saw him. till one day, you cupped his face and pressed your lips to his. it took a while for him to kiss you back, probably cause he was taken aback by the sudden boldness, but hell he was happy to see you take the reigns this time.

♤ his lips were soft yet coarse against yours. his motions were slow at the start. his hands began to roam and whimpers were heard, the kiss became all the more heated. his hands started to grip at any part of your body he could reach. sides, love handles, thighs, upper arms.

♤ you were getting worked up by the second, and if the tent in his jeans were an indication of anything, was that he was too. you loved that whenever you pulled back for air, you'd catch a glimpse of his grill. he looked so good with them. he kissed along your jaw, collarbone and down to your breasts. god the ache between your legs was becoming unbearable as this point.

♤ and as if he read your mind, you watched as the keys were slipped out the ignition. he leaned back a bit to take a good look at his work. if his smug ass grin meant anything, it was that he was satisfied.

♤ next thing you know, your back pressed against your front door. taine's body was pressing against you, keeping you from moving too much. one hand was up your shirt, pulling the cups of your bra down, and the other groped at your ass. with the position he had you in, you could feel his print pressed against your low stomach.

taine suddenly pulled back and just looked at you. "jump."

it took you a while to register what he just said. he repeated himself again, make no mistake you heard him this time. you froze.

sure the idea of taine carrying you to the bedroom was hot, but what if he hurt himself. you weren't exactly manageable, and you didn't want him to go out his way to try an-

your thoughts were interrupted by the sudden grips at your thighs. in one quick move he had lifted off the floor. "wrap your legs fo' me".

you were so quiet as he made his way your room. he kissed at your next to try to calm you down, he could tell by the way you tensed up in his arms.

"don't worry bout me, i got you"

♤ you expected taine to throw you on the bed once you guys reached the room, but instead he gently let you down. you paused and wondered if you did something wrong. he pulled you to stand in between his legs as he sat on the bed. "ever sat on a niggas face before ma?" he smirked at the way your eyes widen, well that answers that.

♤ your breath hitched as you felt him pull at your hips till you were seated on his chest, well hovered. once he finally coaxed you to his face, you felt him pushing the flesh of your inner thighs and pulling your panties to the side. you knew he finally got what he wanted when his grills flashed from his smirk. finally got a good view of your pussy. "fuck there she is. fucking gorgeous baby. com' on sit her down for me."

♤ you didn't even know how long you were sat on his face for, you were too fucked out to care. his tongue pushed and parted at your folds, and even dipped into you at times. all you did was grip onto his twists and pulled his face further into you. he sucked hard at your clit, and laid a slap on your ass whenever you got too quiet on him. soon you became too light headed to sit up right and that's when you fell forward.

♤ in one swift move, taine rolled you onto your back. his mouth still sucking at your folds. fuck was this nigga ever gonna let up. soon you felt him let off your cunt, with a slight pop. you took a minute to catch your breathe, was he done?

♤ nope, instead he decided he wanted to finally feel yow wrapped around him. with how swollen and puffed up you were, you could definitely take him in one push, right? wait, just to make sure. your eyes went wide once you saw how his fingers spread your lips even further, and you watched as he spit at your cunt. you couldn't believe he just did that. you couldn't even cuss him out, he looked at you like he dared you to. smug ass nigga.

♤ he soon shut your thoughts up by pushing his shaft into you. it was like the air was forced out your lungs. his length wasn't anything hard to take but the girth was fucking ridiculous. not to mention the curve in him, hit right onto your sweet spot. you writhed and squirmed under him, all you could focus on was the sudden stretch in your cunt, and push against your g-spot. "ma, breathe. calm down fo' me, can't move till you do, ok?"

♤ when you gave him the go ahead, you saw the instance the relief on his face. he was really fighting the urge to dick you down. the man could even pace himself, he just began to rut into you. he loved how he heard how wet you were. and that was all because of him. "you got a good fuckin' pussy on you. real fuckin' easy to fuck into".

♤ you two spent what felt like hours fucking. he was really worked up, even when he came less than a couple seconds ago, all he had to do was look at how gone you were and how you'd hug your thighs to your chest as you pleaded with him to come back. that shit almost made him swear he'd cuff you one day. "damn you look really good like this. damn good"

thanks to @r3yr3ysworld for helping with some inspo for this fic.

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

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diorsbrando · 8 months

Text

QUIET PERCEPTION. ( neuvillette )

neuvillette x plus size!fem!reader

cw ━━ ! minors and ageless blogs DO NOT INTERACT. reader is written as plus sized/thick, and also as a black woman but you do not have to imagine it as such, anyone is welcome to read. fiancé!reader. just fluffy, lovey dovey stuff <3 neuvi still actively trying to understand him being completely in love with you and the fact you love him back. neuvillette is (un)intentionally is romantic and charming. use of endearment terms in french ( i so desperately wanted to be creative with pet names but i'm still tryna get a read on his character so i decided to play it safe LMAO). some locations (i.e. where neuvilette lives) may not be canon; i just pulled info from different sites. somewhat proofread.

word count ━━ ! 2.06k

notes ━━ ! this'll be something short n sweet <3 i could have sworn that i've written about a genshin character before but looking back, it seems as if i was mistaken :D i definitely have several concepts/wips about genshin charas but i never got to finish them so . . . . here's to my first genshin piece 🥂 i imagined my first would be abt zhongli or diluc ( bc i adore them until the end of time ) but fate has changed <3 this handsome gorgeous man came out of nowhere and captured my heart and won't let go. @gabzlovesu , i actually did it :)

THE STEADY STREAM OF pouring water was the only constant sound that resonated throughout the spacious estate of the Chief Justice of Fontaine. The extravagant windows had the blinds drawn, so the luminescence of the moon was free to shine as it pleased, and take a peek inside the many walls of the home of the ludex.

Inside the master bedroom laid the Chief Justice himself, and you, his dearest fiancé, wrapped securely and loving in his arms.

Well, you were wrapped in his arms.

The space where you were previously laid would soon be vacant, as you found yourself having odd, after-midnight cravings of a certain kind of tea. Despite your obvious sleepiness and exhaustion, your brain would not rest, and kept generating memories about the last time you've had the pleasure to make yourself this beverage and imagined how good it would taste at this hour of the night.

When all is quiet, in sound and in mind, one would have more of an opportunity to really savor something. You reasoned that the tea was bound to taste even better if you drank it now, which was all the motivation you needed to gently maneuver yourself from underneath your fiancé's rather anchored hold on you. It took you quite some time to do so because you didn't want to wake him up. For someone that worked the way he did, he deserved as much undisturbed rest as possible.

Adjusting the bonnet on your head, you slid your bare feet into your slippers that sat at the corner of your bed. The hard marble and tile floors were a lot colder at night when they couldn't be warmed up by the rays of the sun.

You took your time making your way to the kitchen and pantry area. The manner in which you ambled about the corridors━ your cream colored night gown wading at your ankles, flowing with each step you took━ made you akin to a ghost in a haunted mansion.

Once you reached your destination, you went straight ahead and grabbed all the ingredients you would need at a leisurely pace, taking more fulfillment in making a simple cup of tea than you normally do. Usually, you would have thought the whole process was annoyingly long-winded, but this time it was different.

Maybe it's because it was quiet. Your mind was quiet. Your heart was quiet; there was no rush. You allowed yourself to relax, to bask in the tranquility of the moment.

The soft clinks of metal and porcelain, as well as the delicate sound of your humming voice, were added onto the noises of the rushing fountains.

All of the noises were symphonious with each other, to the point where they all merged into one. Soon you were entirely engulfed in your current task and the little noises that filled the air.

And perhaps too engrossed, because you were unable to sense the presence of Neuvillette, who had shifted slightly in his sleep only to notice you had disappeared. He wouldn't be able to, or want to admit it, but the bed you shared turned out to be a little colder in your absence.

"So, here you were," he questioned as he entered, holding a candle in his hand. His voice was a huskier than normal, most likely because he had just woken up from his slumber. You have come to believe over time that the sound of Neuvillette's voice, especially when it was thick with sleep, was the most soothing and melodious sound you would ever have the pleasure of hearing.

Even now, you had to bite back a grin, for the sound of his somewhat deeper voice, and the nature of his statement, caused a giddy feeling to erupt in your stomach. The sensation crawled from your gut and spread across your body like an electric current, and generated a bashful warmth in your face.

"Here, I am," your cheeky reply flowed smoothly from your lips, briefly looking back at him for a moment before grabbing the cocoa powder. "And here I thought I had been as quiet as a church mouse when getting out of bed. Seems I was unfortunately mistaken." The faintest gasp arose from your throat when you suddenly felt your fiancé's body behind you, gently pressing against your back in an effort to embrace you once more.

The Chief Justice knew how to explain and rationalize a lot of things on a many broad subjects, in and outside of the Opera Epiclese of the Fontaine court. But he was at a loss when it came to humans━ specifically and especially when it came to you.

Articulating his feelings for you, trying to fully understand why you felt this way about him in return, and just why he always felt more content when you were this close to him were some things he admittedly struggled to find logical solutions to.

Neuvillette's lips were a hair's breadth away from the upper part of your ear so when he hummed, goosebumps almost immediately erected on the surface of your deep, chestnut skin. His voice, now even lower than before, and the large palm he placed on your torso, startled you to a degree where you nearly spilt all the powder on the counter.

"You should recall how light a sleeper I am. Alas, your attempt to be inconspicuous was all for naught. I'm afraid that nearly anyone would have awoken from all the rustling that resulted from your movements."

You couldn't stop the soft laugh that tumbled past your lips at his subtle jab at your inability to be sneaky. Hearing him say anything resembling a joke at another's expense was certainly rare. "I suppose you're right. It seems my eagerness for tea dulled my usually agile movements."

This time Neuvillette chuckled and shook his head a bit, and his small smile stretched into a wider one when he heard you laugh along with him. The heart that resided in his chest pumped faster and with much more force whenever he heard the sound. He could listen to it all day.

"I'm sorry I woke you up though. I've disturbed you from getting the proper rest you need." You felt the need to apologize, even though it was unlikely your white haired fiancé would ever be upset with your for something like that. "Even more so because I am fully aware of the long day you have ahead of you tomorrow."

Without warning, Neuvillette proceeded to wrap both of his arms around your abdomen and pulled you even closer to his chest. You could feel the ridges and dips of his rather defined and etched stature through the thin satin of your night gown. With little force and much care, he turned you around to that you were now facing him, leaving you no choice but to pause in the stirring of your tea. His hands rested lovingly on your hips and your backside was pressed firmly against the counter.

The space between the two of you remained nonexistent.

"I, too, am aware of the day that awaits me in several hours. But please, do not apologize. You have nothing to be sorry for."

You were about to reply but Neuvillette silenced whatever it was your were going to say next when he leaned down slightly, and captured your lips in a delicate but amorous kiss. In reality it didn't last for more than three seconds, but to you, in your own little world with this man you got to claim as yours, it felt like it lasted much, much longer.

The effect of time seeming like it slowed down felt even more real when the two of you broke away from each other, and his silvery lavender eyes peered into yours. "Truthfully, I don't mind losing a bit of sleep....if it means that I don't have to wait until the morning to have you look at me like this, and hear your voice again."

Your eyes widened a fraction, not expecting him to say something so affectionate or romantic unprovoked. A fond smile tugged on the corners of your lips, already knowing your mind would be replaying his words for weeks to come over and over again, like a malfunctioning record player.

"Oh, mon amour...." was all you were able to say at the moment, your tone soft and breathy, slightly above a whisper. For as long as you have been with your white haired fiancé, he was still effortlessly capable of causing the butterflies in your stomach to hatch from their cocoons, and fly around in a frenzy.

Neuvillette lifted one hand to palm your cheek, and stroke it slowly with the pad of his thumb. His hand, his body, the look in his eyes were filled with warmth, and you wanted to cherish it for as long as possible. Your hands rested on his chest, and you leaned into his touch as he pecked your lips once and then twice more, for good measure and solely because he desired to feel you against him one more time.

The Chief Justice decided he liked this expression on your face. It suited you quite well, he thought. Right now you were the most beautiful creature he had ever laid eyes on in his long-standing life.

After a moment, a low chuckle rumbled in the man's chest before leaning forward to peck your temple. "I think I'm craving a bit of tea as well. I'm sure it will quell this newfound thirst that arbitrarily appeared."

Smiling again, you separated from your lover so you can finish on your cup, and so he could get started on his. As you stood side by side, and even as you both finished and made your way back to the master bedroom, you continued to talk to each other about whatever topic lingered in the atmosphere. Anything from the upcoming trial and cases he was overseeing tomorrow, mundane things that you saw on the streets of Fontaine that day, what you had for lunch, and everything else in between was discussed between the two of you.

Before either of you even realized it, the hue of the room turned from colorless dark to a deep cerulean blue, and the songs of the birds reverberated throughout the walls of your bedroom.

It was morning.

"Oh my! Has dawn truly come? And so soon at that...I didn't mean to keep you━"

The words of exclamation were lodged in your throat once more, as you watched him take your hand in his, and placed a feathery kiss on your knuckles and fingers.

"Do not trouble yourself over matters that are not your doing. You need not worry about me, ma douce."

Like a puddle of water that has been sitting in the sun all day, you're felt like you could evaporate just from the intensity of your fiancé's lidded gaze. Sometimes you wondered if he was even aware of his influence on every part of your body.

"Besides, I don't recall ever saying that I intended to leave at this very moment. We still have plenty of time together; the morning has only just begun."

Completely intertwining your hand with his, Neuvillette seamlessly maneuvered you both back onto the soft, inviting sheets, with you conveniently laying on top of him.

His long, snowy hair sprawled from his scalp in all directions making him look majestic with no effort at all. At times, you even found yourself jealous of his beauty. But you wouldn't dare utter such words to him; you'd rather simply admire and even found yourself a little prideful that such a dauntingly beautiful man would be yours forever.

If only you knew that to Neuvillette, you resembled an angel from the Celestial heavens. The sun hasn't risen over the mountains just yet, but your being blinded him, and he found himself never wanting to see another thing again.

Overcome with ardor for you, his hand found its way to the back of your neck to pull your face downward and closer to his, because he was craving another taste of you.

You melted in his touch, and savored the taste of vanilla and crème on his tongue and his hands on your body. The only thing wrong with this moment, was the dawn came too soon.

( # ) ━ since i never wrote for genshin before, i don't have a tag list for it lolz ! but i might as well make one soooo if you wanna join let me know <3 here's the link to my taglist form for my other works <3 @osamwah @smiley-babe y'all would prob like this fdkjdkd

#໒꒱ newborn stand ─ sosa’s filez #❛ mdni.#maybe i should stop planning out fics too much bc this was another random unplanned idea #initially i wasn’t even confident in my abilities to write for him bc he just became official #but watching the same edits of him and staring at pictures wasn’t doin it for me no mor #anyway #genshin impact #genshin impact 4.0 #genshin fanfic #genshin x you #genshin x y/n #genshin x black reader #black fem reader #neuvillette #neuvillette genshin #neuvillette x you #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette x black reader

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donutsupremacy · 5 months

Text

Cat-astrophe

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Summary

"When your frenemy Charlotte had discovered you were fired from Sumeru's news outlet and had moved to Fontaine to rid yourself of embarrassment, the pink haired female immediately dedicated an entire day to cheer you up. Little did you know, someone else would do a better job than her."

Warnings/Spoilers

Written during 4.1

100% Ooc moments

Flirting / Teasing

Love at first sight cliché trope

GN!Reader x Lyney

Reader is from Sumeru

Reader is NOT traveller

Reader has a cat (Mechanical cat if you're allergic to real cats)

100% Fluff this time

[C/N]= Cat's name

Shorter fic, kinda

Spoilers from Lyney's story quest (?)

Rizzing by yours truly

Reader may or may not have a vision (Irrelevant in the fic, it's up to your interpretation)

Reader needs a hat lol

Charlotte talks for like 6 paragraphs and magically disappears for another 30 paragraphs

A/N: This one's a little more random than the one I made for Thoma, but I couldn't resist not kaking a little oneshot for Lyney, he's precious ♡

I'm having semi-finals exams before my ACTUAL exams atm, so the SMAU is on hold until (Likely) 2024 January (This exams important) ;-;

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Your romance begins here

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"Here! Try this!"

You let out a startled noise when the pink haired female suddenly placed a giant hat on your head, it tilts downwards, obscuring your vision. "Uh... th-this feels... a little too big." You let out an awkward laugh as you took the hat off, admiring the fabric and it's designs, but it wasn't your taste.

Charlotte sighed, taking the hat back from you. "C'mon... you've worn that hat ever since you joined Sumeru's news outlet. Isn't it time for some change?" She inquired, scanning the shelves for a hat that suited your appearance.

You chuckled as you glanced outside, ensuring your feline companion was still waiting patiently outside, it's eyes gazing at you with curiosity. You let out a snort, waving at your companion who began pawing at the shop's window. You could hear it meowing for your attention.

"Ohh... how about this one?" Once again, a hat— much larger than the last, completely obscures your vision once more. You yelped, before lifting the comically large hat off your head, raising a brow at the ridiculous size. "No?" The pink haired girl frowned, before groaning as she took the hat away from you and went straight back to searching for another one.

"Charlotte, this isn't necessary. I like my hat..." You quipped as you watched her scan through the rack of hats, tracing little shapes on the ground with your foot, feeling a little bored. "...Plus, most of these hats are ridiculously huge."

You've been rivals with her ever since you first met while travelling to Fontaine for an interview regarding the disappearing cases with young women. After discovering you were part of a news outlet in Sumeru, the both of you hit off and became friends— rivals when it came to work.

But after learning that you were fired for accidentally handing in an incomplete assignment (Which, she thought was a horrible reason to fire you for, you rarely made mistakes in your job), you had moved to Fontaine with your cat to rid yourself from embarrasment and apply to work for the news outlet there with Charlotte, she was ecstatic.

But of course, despite your reassurance that you weren't too affected after getting fired, she still wanted to 'cheer you up'. Obviously, she just wanted to hang out with you.

Now, here you are— dragged to a hat boutique by the cryo-wielding female along with your cat, who thought the hat you wore during your time working at Sumeru's news outlet should be removed for no apparent reason.

"Nonsense! You've been wearing that hat ever since the birth of The Seven!— Oh! Maybe we can wear the same hats!" Charlotte chirped, holding up a hat similar to the one on her head.

Without letting you protest, she plops it down on your head, a perfect fit. You chuckled, about to take it off, but eventually lowered your hand, she looked like a child getting praised when you left the hat on you.

"Eh... I guess this one's pretty good. What do you think, [C/N]?" You asked rhetorically with a light chuckle, turning wround to face your companion behind the window's glass.

It's gone.

Panic immediately settles in as adrenaline slowly coursed through your blood, lowering the hand and handing back to Charlotte who also realized your feline companion was now gone. "[C/N]?... [C-C/N]!?"

You tossed the hat back to Charlotte and sprang out of the boutique, looking around frantically for your companion who had disappeared. "[C/N]!?" You exclaimed, ignoring the few confused and worried looks you received from the citizens nearby.

"[Name]! W-Wait!" You ignored Charlotte's words as you began to ran, looking for [C/N] who couldn't have wandered off too far— it was just waiting outside the boutique 2 minutes ago!

As you kept on running while calling out to your feline companion, you hear the sound of applause nearby, briefly netting your attention.

A crowd of people had gathered by the side of the road, clapping with excitement and joy in their eyes as a young male voice sounded in the middle. "Now, take a look inside my hat, everyone. See how there's nothing inside? Pay attention now... blink and you may miss it— voila!" Out comes three doves flying out from the crowd, causing the spectators to erupt into another round of applause.

The sound of the dove's wings flapping in the air grew softer as they flew away, the only sound that briefly caught your attention was the melodious laughter of the same young man's voice. "Adieu, little doves!... Ah? What's this?"

At first, you shook your head, you couldn't afford to lose your cat in a whole city and get distracted by some guy with a nice voice, you couldn't even see him.

Until you heard that familiar meow you've been hearing for several years. "Why, hello there, little one! I see you've been attracted by those doves."

Without a doubt, that meow belongs to your cat. You approached the crowd, slipping past the spectators and uttering out apologies. Your mind was focus on the meowing as the crowd quietly murmured about your panic-stricken expression, concerned about what made you so anxious. The voice continues to speak. "What are you reaching for?... Oh! This feather from the doves? Of course you may have it!"

There it is— your cat, excitedly pawing at a feather in the hands of a young man with pale skin and mesmerising violet eyes, his ash blond hair pulled back into a braided style, a tear shaped mark on his right cheek. He was kneeling down next to your cat, lightly waving the feather with an amused and calm smile, his twinkling with endearment.

"[C/N]!" You immediately called out, bringing his attention as his eyes travelled to meet yours. Your cat's ears perked up, turning to see you before letting out a meow and running to your side.

It loops your leg, gazing up at you as it tilts it's head to the side, looking as innocent as ever. "You scared me half to death..." You sighed out as you squatted down, carrying your feline companion into your arms before standing back up, now facing the charming young man in front of you.

"Such a playful companion you have there." He chuckled, holding the feather and bringing it close to your cat. It's ears twitched, pawing at the feather as you grew aware of all eyes still on you. "I can tell neither of you are from Fontaine— it's a pleasure to meet you Mx...?"

"[Name]. My name is [Name]."

"[Name]. Welcome to Fontaine!" He greets, giving you a polite bow as he removes his top hat, bringing it to his chest. He takes your hand into his, pressing a light peck on your knuckles.

Your face grew warm as you held your cat in one arm, it didn't help when you heard teasing giggles from the crowd behind you. You shook out of your embarrasment, giving him a sheepish smile. "I'm sorry to have bothered you, monsieur...?"

"Lyney. You may just call me Lyney, there's no need to be so formal around me. We're all friends here, are we not?" He quipped, straightening back once more as he placed his hat back on his head. "I'm a magician in Fontaine, it's a pleasure to have a foreigner attend my little magic show on the streets. Even if the tricks i'm using are rather plain and simple."

You remembered Charlotte talking about a pair of siblings in her letters that were known to be famous magicians, rambling on and on about wanting to get their interviews from certain performances. "Pleasure's all mine, Lyney." You hummed, your cat purring in agreement. "I hope my cat didn't disturb your show too much..."

"Nonsense— if anything, it gave quite the show to the audience as well." Lyney reassured, reaching behind the ear of your cat. "Besides... you cat's a helpful little fella." Out comes a small, gorgeous flower, a Rainbow Rose to be exact, it's soft and silky pastel pink petals shining under the sun.

The audience let out soft gasps, your eyes widening in surprise, looking down at your cat who's ears perked up, using it's hind legs to scratch the area where the flower was pulled from. That was rather impressive. "Allow me to present you with a magic trick." The magician chirped, holding out the Rainbow Rose in his hand. He clears his throat, taking a small step back and holding the flower up high, speaking in a clear and confident tone.

"Please pay attention to this Rainbow Rose in my hand, 3... 2... 1."

The small audience erupts with gasps.

It vanishes with a flick of a wrist, as if it was a mere illusion that could be washed away with a simple swish of a hand, his nimble gloved fingers barely giving anyone a chance to see where it went. For a magic trick so 'simple and plain', you were impressed and amazed at how clean he initiated these tricks.

You hear the audience behind you murmuring amongst themselves, impressed and waiting in anticipation, the young children amongst the crowd spewing out questions on the flower's whereabouts.

"A magician never reveals their secrets." The blonde male awnsered, winking at you. His grin widened upon seeing the blush on your face only grow brighter.

He snaps his fingers. "Now, I invite all of you to check your clothing."

You hear everyone scrambling to check their clothing, the sound of fabric ruffling against one another, followed by murmurs of either disappointment or confusion.

You raised a hand, feeling something soft nestled onto your upper clothing. "Ah?" You moved your gaze down to see the Rainbow rose that was previously on Lyney's hand— now reappearing on the collar of your clothing.

Your cat meows as it plays with the silky, colourful petals of the flower. You let out a soft gasp as you plucked the Rainbow Rose off your clothing, holding it in your palm as the audience gave another round of applause at the small, yet, impressive trick Lyney did.

Lyney let out a soft chuckle as it strings into your ear, like a lulling melody composed by a soft tune and a gentle voice. "Ah— there it is! It seems you might be classified as a thief in Fontaine— a cute one to be exact."

Your cheeks flushed a deep red at his words, it didn't help that he he didn't stop there. He used both hands to cup the bottom yours that held the rose, his violet eyes locked with yours as he gave you a cheeky smile.

That damned smile...

Oh how it made your heart flutter so effortlessly.

"Now that begs the question; did you steal that Rainbow Rose— or did you use it as a distraction to steal my heart instead?"

"P-Pardon?" You stammered over your words, and he did not stop there.

"Now, that sort of crime earns you a place in the Meropide of Foretress— but even that place wouldn't dare house a bed for you, you're just far too cute and precious to be declared guilty in the first place." He chirped, using his free hand to take the rose away from your hands and going behind his back. With his other hand still holding the bottom yours, he tilts it, planting a gentle kiss on your knuckles.

Getting flirted in public by a charming young magician whom you had just met mere minutes ago while surrounded by a small audience was not what you expected after moving to Fontaine.

He lets out a hearty chuckle, his shoulders shaking lightly as the audience cooed at your flustered reaction, the rosy hue on your cheeks only flushing a brighter shade. What a... charming, yet, mischievous young man.

"A-Ah, uhm..." Your gaze diverts from his, rubbing the back of your nape with a free hand as you held your feline companion in your other hand— unsure of how to reply as your eyes subtly dart around the audience faces. Did this embarrassing little moment have to be carried out in public?

Sensing your slight discomfort, the corner of his cheeky grin falters, giving you a soft and apologetic smile for putting you on the spotlight for too long. "Well, that reminds me of another small trick!— Would you like to see another one? I call this..."

[Timeskip]

"Oh, thank the Archons— I've found you!" Charlotte's voice sounded from nearby, followed by the sound of boots rapidly clicking against the concrete pavement you stood next to while chatting with Lyney.

You turned around, almost dropping your cat when the pink haired female suddenly wrapped her arms around your torso. You yelped, your cat letting out a panicked meow as it leaps out of your arms as you were tackled to the ground, the pink haired female proceeding to lecture you for running off.

"Are you insane? You had me worried to death!" Charlotte huffs, narrowing her eyes as her brows furrowed with disappointment. "Do you have any idea on how huge the city of Fontaine is?— You could have stumbled upon something or someone dangerous, and I wouldn't even know where to begin searching for you! Just because the serial disappearances have stopped, doesn't mean you can just meander around all over the place without telling me!"

As you could only give her a sheepish smile and guiltily nod along to her lecturing, Lyney gently scooped your cat into his arms, he cooed quietly to your feline friend. "Your owner seems to be in a pickle, wouldn't you agree, [C/N]?"

You companion meows in response, it's nose twitching with curiosity as it lifts a paw to bat at Lyney's hat— a black cat's head with peculiar eyes and a sharp toothy grin emerging from beneath, gazing down at [C/N].

Your eyes averted from Charlotte to Lyney, watching as he handles two cats communicating with eachother through meows and occasionally gently batting eachother with their paws. He grins at their endearing curiosity, holding your companion with one hand and the other struggling to keep his hat in place.

The sound of Charlotte's yapping was muffled in your ears, your lips quirking into a fond smile, watching your curious companion having fun while the young magician was pampering it.

His eyes met yours, a calm, yet, cheeky smile appearing on his features, pale skin tinted in a faint rosy hue when you caught him in this little predicament. You were in no diffrent situation yourself.

He chuckled, his attention returning to the two cats playing with eachother, his voice reaching your ears and causing your heart to melt.

"...So, only a few days in Fontaine and you've already found yourself a crush, I see?"

Charlotte whispered close to your eyes, a brow raised as she watched the way your face flared up a bright shade of red, you leaned away from her and began stammering over your words while frantically wavings your hands, denying her words.

"H-Hey! That's not what this is all about!" You managed to stutter out, but the cryo-wielding female only scoffed at your denial.

"Come now, [Name]— I'm no detective, but you're giving heart eyes to Lyney! I could be blindfolded and see how you've fallen head over heels for him!... Hey... wait..." She trails off, her teal eyes suddenly sparkling with what seemed like inspiration and excitement.

You were about to call her name, thinking she might've fallen into some sort of trance— when you were met with Monsieur Verite, her camera, shoved into your face.

"Tell me, [Name]— Are you perhaps planning to court the young magician, Lyney? What are your methods? How will you react if he rejects or accepts you? Will you plan to—"

One question after another, she sends a barrage of ridiculous questions your way while keeping your face in shot of her camera. Was this really how Charlotte interviews people in Fontaine?

You're somewhat impressed and proud of her persistence... and slightly disappointed in this method at the same time.

"Come on! Just treat this as a sort of collab between co-workers! I'll share our pay in half! Just awnser a few words, please?" While you're busy trying to move out of the frame, she contonues directing the camera at you, determined to get a scoop about a foreigner and the famous magician's love life.

"...Well, I can't say I hadn't forseen Charlotte trying to strike up another scoop related to me, even if [Name] isn't my significant other..." Lyney quietly laughed under his breath, the cat underneath his hat and yours watching his reaction carefully. He winks at them, a small but genuine smile donning his face as he gazed back at you, eyes full of amusement and adoration.

"...Yet."

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin oneshots #genshin lyney #genshin impact lyney #genshin lyney x reader

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nclgsticore · 1 year

Text

What If? P3

Natasha Romanoff x Plus Size Reader

Credit to GIF owner. GIF is not mine <3

'𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐟?' 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Summary: Natasha and Y/n decided to look for Yelena after informing the rest of the Avengers about Natasha's return, plus meeting the new Hawkeye beside Clint. Let's just say Hawkeye happened in the close timeline, December 2023.

Warning: Reader mentions about her insecurities, slight nsfw in the end.

Song for this series

Timeskip a few weeks after that,

No one's POV

"Where are we going to look for her? I haven't seen her since the urm.. funeral?" Natasha almost choked when Y/n says that and Wanda almost fall off the chair she was sitting on, and out of a sudden, everything went silent. Clint couldn't even say a word, he know that Yelena would be holding a grudge against him.

Yelena would thought that Clint was the whole reason of Natasha's death, but all of you knew that how Natasha and Clint argued on who's going to be sacrificed to get the Soul Stone.

"We could go back where she was supposed to be when I met her back then," Natasha mutters while taking a bite from the peanut butter and chocolate filled waffles, chewing slowly with her eyes still on her girlfriend, waiting for an answer.

"Moscow?" Wanda asks, earning a hum from Y/n.

"We can start from there. But I think we have an issue over here." Y/n replies while scrolling through the tab in her hand.

"What?" All 3 Wanda, Clint and Natasha asks at the same time, looking at Y/n in confusion.

"As soon as Tasha's death being declared, some parties actually blamed," Y/n points her finger towards Clint who's sitting across her with Nathaniel on his lap, "You. People start blaming you and even adding here and there about Tasha's death. I mean, who won't? No offense." Y/n sits back, leaning her body against Natasha's shoulder, searching for something on the screen before showing it to Natasha.

"Wait, I know her." Clint and Wanda looks at Natasha, waiting for her to explain.

"She's Valentina Allegra de Fontaine."

"What water fountain?" Clint ask and a slap lands on the back of his head from Wanda.

"Ouch! I'm holding a toddler here, Maximoff!" Clint hits Wanda back on her arm, earning himself a death glare from the Sokovian girl.

"Valentina Allegra de Fontaine. She works with Leviathan. Probably she told Yelena that Clint killed Tasha. Because Yelena never knew who Clint was to us. During the blip, she was even gone. I think. But anyways, we need to brainwash your сестра (sister) first before anything else, got it?" Y/n turns to look at Natasha, and Natasha's jaws dropped as she hears the explanation.

"Since when you're so good at searching things-"

"That wasn't a search Наталья Алиановна Романова. I met Lena a few weeks after your death and Tony's funeral. She was furious. She was even searching for Clint and that's when I found out about Kate. She said a random brunette was with him," Y/n paused while looking far into the living room, staring at the figure who's sitting in the dark.

"Come here, Bishop. I don't bite. Well, I only bite Tasha." Natasha gasped as Y/n calls out for Kate, slowly the teenager walks into the kitchen, joining all of them and taking a seat next to Y/n.

"So young lady, tell me. Since when?" Kate just looks at Y/n in adoration, flustering when the woman is holding her hand.

"Watch it Bishop. She's my woman. Get her out of your head." Y/n chuckles as Natasha warns the teenager away from her girlfriend.

"Tasha, chill. She won't snatch me, honey." Y/n places a kiss on Natasha's temple, gripping the woman's thigh softly before looking back at Kate, waiting for an answer.

"Since I saw Clint, rescuing someone in front of me. And I started archery right after my father died. Yeah. Some quite time now. What about you?" Natasha stands up, heading into the living room, turning the lights on before she turns the television on, sitting there, leaving you, Kate and Wanda in the kitchen while Clint is on his way, tucking Nathaniel in bed.

"Well, I hack things. Nothing more and I'm even confused about how Tasha can be so into me."

"What do you mean by that, Ms. Y/l/n?"

"Oh darling, please. Lose the Ms Just call me Y/n. Just like you call Clint. And what I mean by that is," Y/n scoots closer, and Wanda immediately rose from her seat and rushes next to both of them, sitting on the floor, wanting to listen to Y/n's next words.

"I'm not that attractive, unlike Tasha. Look at me honey, I'm fat." Y/n raises her brows, "I am smart, I know. But other than that, I'll always going to be the nerd, fat, and unusable Y/n, darling." Y/n sits back, crossing her arms in front of her chest, looking at Kate and Wanda before their eyes widen, and Y/n look at them in confusion before turning her head backwards, seeing Natasha standing right behind her that she has to tilt her head up to look at Natasha's face.

Y/n's fucked.

Natasha never likes it when Y/n talk about her physical in a bad way.

There will always going to be a problem after that.

This was the moment that Y/n knew she, fucked up.

"Bedroom, now Y/n." Natasha orders before Y/n gets up, sprinting to the bedroom, leaving Kate, Natasha and Wanda alone in the kitchen.

"I'll talk to both of you later. Good evening." Before Natasha walks out of the kitchen.

"I guess we need a little walk for a few hours, huh?" Kate said and Wanda replies,

"I agree."

#natasha romanoff x plus size reader #natasha romanoff #plus size reader #wlw #avengers #smuts #mcu #marvel #black widow x reader #black widow #natalia alianovna romanova #what if

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bumbleklee · 3 years

Text

shopping for baby

masterlist | 1k prompt masterlist | discord server | pregnancy series

pairings: diluc, kaeya, childe and zhongli x female!reader (separate)

warnings: pregnancy

diluc

he secretly adored shopping with you for the twins. after crepus passed away, diluc was left with a large sum of money that he didn’t know what to do with. showering you and his babies was the best way to spend it.

“Everything has socks attached,” Diluc said, holding up a pajama set with footie pants. He had taken you to Fontaine for a week to pick up clothes and goods for your twins and you were going a little overboard.

“Well, obviously,” You remarked, rolling your eyes. “Do they have that in another color?”

As you searched the racks of the boutique, Diluc sighed. He wasn’t concerned with the amount of money you were spending, rather the fact that he just didn’t understand anything when it came to babies. Like why did pants need attached socks? And why couldn’t he put your babies in their cribs for a month? And why were you buying so many blankets for the twins if the babies couldn’t even sleep with them?

You shoveled two more onesies in your basket and grinned at Diluc. Unlike him, you were ecstatic to be shopping for the twins. Filling their closet with adorable clothing and finally setting up their nursery meant your little ones were arriving shortly.

“Shouldn’t we buy them different clothes?” Diluc asked, eyeing the many matching sets in your cart. “Like what about this?”

Diluc held a puffy pink dress to you, his cheeks darkening. “That’s perfect,” You assured him, “Do you like it?”

He nodded, “I think it’s cute.”

You took the dress from Diluc and held it against your swollen stomach. The twins were seven months now but still tiny in your belly. “She’s going to outgrow it so fast,” You said solemnly. The dress was a newborn size and while you would put your daughter in it so often, there was no doubt in your mind she was going to quickly get too big for it. “But we should still get it.”

After a while more of shopping, Diluc paid for the clothes and even offered to haul the bags back to your hotel. “We’ll buy furniture in Mondstadt,” He told you, “I don’t think anything else will fit in the carriage.”

You hummed and leaned into Diluc’s side. He rummaged through the bags, smiling to himself as his fingers grazed outfit upon outfit for your twins. When you looked at the expression, you had never seen Diluc so at peace.

“This has been an amazing day,” He admitted to you, glancing up at your glowing face. “You’re going to have to tell me how to button all these snaps though.”

kaeya

like his brother, he adored shopping for your daughter. he wanted to spoil her as much as he spoiled you so when you gave him the a-okay to start purchasing items for your baby, he quickly went overboard.

When you arrived home from work, you were met with yet another pink dress laid out on the couch. Kaeya was awaiting you with puppy-dog eyes, excitement radiating off his body. When he saw you, he instantly lit up. “Look what I found her!” He beamed, “And it’ll match that little pink sweater I got her yesterday.”

You sighed and tried to smile through your annoyance, “Kae, not everything had to be pink. What if she doesn’t like the color pink?”

Kaeya rolled his eyes at you, “She’s a baby, love. She won’t even know what pink is.”

You couldn’t stay mad at Kaeya for long. He really was doting on your unborn baby like never before and you would be a fool to displace his admiration. Plus, the clothes he was picking out were adorable (even if they all were pink).

“Did you pick up pajamas like I asked you to?” You questioned, moving the dress so you could scoot into Kaeya’s side. You felt his abdomen tense up and he nervously chuckled, turning his head away from you.

“That’s what I went for today,” He said sheepishly, “But as you can see I got distracted.”

You sighed again and hid your head into Kaeya’s chest, “What am I going to do with you?” Your fingers traced his bicep and a smile creeped onto your lips, “Let’s go together next time.”

“Deal.” Kaeya’s hand found yours and he fiddled with your fingers, “Lisa is knitting us some clothes, too. Maybe they won’t be pink.”

“That would be a delight.”

Kaeya pressed a kiss to the top of your head and leaned back against the couch, pulling you close. Shopping for his daughter was a dream come true. Everytime he bought a new article of clothing for her, he would only imagine how adorable she was going to look in it. He couldn’t wait to meet her.

childe

it took you a month to convince childe that he didn’t need to handcraft all of your nursery furniture. not only would it be way too time consuming, you weren’t sure if you even trusted him with a hammer.

With Childe’s family so far away, you weren’t going to be receiving any baby items secondhand. Because of this, you and Childe spent a few weeks collecting whatever your son would need to live comfortably and safely.

Thankfully, money wasn’t an issue on Childe’s mind so you traveled to Mondstadt and back to buy what you needed. Childe let you make the big decisions, choosing to hang around with his wallet instead. Following the start of your sixth month pregnant, you finally bought a bassinet. It was the perfect size for your bedroom and the color even matched your walls perfectly.

“Childe, look at this,” You beamed, showing your boyfriend the furniture. You pressed down on the pillow, “This is perfect.”

He raised an eyebrow at you, “Don’t we have one of these already?”

“No, we don’t,” You rolled your eyes, “This isn’t a crib, honey. It’s a bassinet.”

Childe shrugged his shoulders, “Same thing.”

“It’s not!” You complained, your hands on your hips. Childe just shrugged his shoulders and grinned at you. In the midst of your playful argument, a woman walked by with a toddler. He was teary-eyed and frowning, tugging on her arm.

“I want a toy!” He cried, trying to plant his feet into the floor.

“You have so many,” The woman said calmly, “We need to shop for your brother today, so stop throwing a fit or you can’t have any ice cream after dinner.” You heard the woman sigh as the boy only protested louder, his face twisted into a pout.

Childe nudged you and reenacted a dramatic, horror expression. “That’ll be us soon enough. Wipe that smirk off your face,” You scolded your boyfriend, “Just help me move this thing.”

zhongli

it was zhongli’s turn to be riddled with anxiety. he wanted the best and only the best for his baby girl but was terrified that he wouldn't be able to provide that for her.

Zhongli was clueless when it came to shopping for his daughter. You felt you had to hold his hand and lead him around the boutiques and stores in Liyue. Besides Qiqi, Zhongli didn’t have much experience with children, nonetheless babies, so he heavily relied on your knowledge.

But when you had a busy work week, you sent Zhongli to the store with a list of essential items and hoped for the best. Luckily, Hu Tao was able to go with him and even though she didn’t have much information either, she knew more than Zhongli.

“You look pale, Sir,” Hu Tao teased as Zhongli stared at the list clutched in his hand. “It’s just baby supplies, how hard can it be?”

Zhongli nodded, “Of course. It’s just things for my infant. Although Y/N didn’t write any brands down and there’s quite a few types of strollers.” He looked overwhelmed at the selection so Hu Tao rubbed his back.

Hu Tao looked at the list over Zhongli’s shoulder, “A crib should be easy to get. They’re over there.”

She led Zhongli to the corner of the store and pointed to the selection of cribs. You wrote down both a bassinet and a crib but Zhongli couldn’t tell the difference, at least not from the boxes. He examined the different styles of cribs before choosing an inexpensive one. “Is this good enough?”

“Probably,” Hu Tao shrugged.

After the crib, there was still so much more to go. Your daughter needed clothes, diapers, bottles, blankets, and so many other things. And they all had 100 options each. He wanted only the best for your daughter but was suddenly overcome with worry that he would pick up the wrong item.

Eventually, Zhongli gave up. He bought the crib and a few other items and solemnly went back home to tell you about his failure.

#genshin pregnancy #kaeya x reader #zhongli x reader #genshin impact #genshin #genshin writing #genshin x reader #genshin x you #diluc x reader #genshin self insert #genshin kaeya #kaeya #genshin diliuc #diluc #genshin zhongli #zhongli #genshin childe #childe x reader #childe

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megamindsecretlair · 2 months

Note

Could you do a one shot with mob boss Tyrone?

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

Blackbird, Part 1: Lust

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

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

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

Word Count: 10,810k

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

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

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

Moodboard by the sweestes person ever, planetblaque 🥹🥹🥹

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You heading inside?” He asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What you got against gangstas?” He asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Probably,” you said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Another day?” She asked.

“Another dollar,” you said back.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sheeit, this is better,” he said.

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

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

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

“Your turn,” you said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Moved up how?” You asked.

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

“I cannot with you,” you said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But, but, but.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Would you like to continue?” He asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey you,” you said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What you talkin’ ‘bout?” You asked.

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

“You really do look good,” you said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Whatever, Fontaine,” you said.

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

“I do not! Just answer my question!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fontaine?” You asked.

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

“Delicious,” he said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Where we going?” He asked.

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

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

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

“Forreal this time!” You giggled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Let me feed you this dick,” he said.

“Feed it to me, baby,” you moaned.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fon-tai–” you moaned.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You-you didn’t…”

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

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

“Fuck!” You moaned.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re so damn cute,” he said.

“You are,” you said and smiled.

“When yo roommate getting home?” He asked.

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

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

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

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

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

“Only if you want to,” you said.

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

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

“I want you to stay, please.”

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

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

Me and you.

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

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

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

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

Graphics by saradika-graphics

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megamindsecretlair · 9 months

Text

Sunshine

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

Warnings: 18+. Minors DNI., multiple uses of n-word and derogatory names. You are in charge of your own reading experience! Intentional use of AAVE. Porn without plot. Cursing, PIV, oral (both male and fem receiving), derogatory language, possession kink, size kink, all consensual.

Summary: At a house party, you meet Tyrone. Common sense flies out the window as you two sneak off for some fun.

Word Count: 2,462k

A/N: I...I have no excuses for myself. And I debated on posting this or not. But I've been feral since the movie came out and I've been gobbling up all the fics I can find. Just wanted to contribute. Of course Fontaine is fine, but I'm a West Coast girlie. Likes are awesome. Please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers. If you're not Black, please don't reblog.

You bent over to get a tequila soda from the cooler when you felt a presence next to you. You looked up and it took everything in you not to drop your jaw. The man was gorgeous. Beautiful dark skin, thick with two C’s, and a wide smile. He licked them big, juicy lips and smirked at you.

He tugged on one of your braids. “You too good to be hanging around here,” he said. Oh god, his voice was fine too. No, he was dangerous. But you couldn’t make your legs move away.

“What you talkin’ about?” You managed to ask.

“You one of them good girls that always got her nose in a book,” he said. He sipped whatever was in his cup. From the faint smell of it, it was probably Henny. It always was.

You laughed and shook your head. “I know you’re not talking about stereotypes.” You pointed to his outfit and then pointed to a group of guys on the other side of the cooler. They all wore Khaki dickie shorts, high black socks, Chucks, and a sweatshirt or flannel. He noticed and chuckled.

“It’s comfortable,” he said. He took in your outfit: a short, blue summer dress and sandals. But the way he took the time to peruse you, study you, had you drinking out of your cup to avoid smiling like an idiot.

“Whatever. And what’s so wrong with having my nose in a book?”

“You too pure to hang around some hood niggas. Probably like them crew cut muthafuckas, right?”

You laughed and shook your head. If only he knew…the hundreds, if not thousands at this point, pages of smut you inhaled on a weekly basis. “Definitely not. What other stereotypes you got for me?”

“You got a curfew, don’t you? Some nice nigga in your DMs askin’ to take you out,” he continued.

A few other people at the house party moved over to grab drinks. You moved out of their way, moving closer to him. Damn, he smelled so damn good. The right mix of clean soap and cologne. He wasn’t the type to take a bath in it.

“Wrong, wrong, and wrong,” you said. He tugged on your braid again. You scrunched up your face, pretending to be upset. He grinned.

“I’m Tyrone,” he said. He held out his hand.

You introduced yourself and took his hand. He shook it but refused to let go. Instead he pulled you closer and kissed your cheek.

“I got to worry about someone comin’ to fight me over your pretty ass?” He asked.

“No!” You said with a laugh.

“Good, because I ain’t trynna catch a body over you,” he whispered in your ear, sending shivers from the top of your head to the tip of your toes. Murder was not a sexy subject. And yet…

“Now sir, who said I even want to entertain you?” You asked. You sipped your drink. You couldn’t keep your eyes off of his.

He smirked and leaned in again. “Bet. Let me see them panties, then,” he said. He studied your body: your thick thighs, tummy, and chubby cheeks.

Shit. You laughed and ran your tongue over your teeth. There was a damp spot in your panties growing by the second. You desired this man. You were actively lusting after him. Everything in your head told you to walk away. He was trouble with a capital T. A verified hood nigga.

You grinned and took his hand, weaving in and out of people grinding on the dance floor. Tupac and Dre blasted through the speakers. Red solo cups were high in the air as people showed out.

You caught the eye of your best friend and waved. She noticed that you were holding Tyrone’s hand and she grinned, tapping her fist against the wall she leaned on. A man stood beside her with his hand on her waist. Both of ya’ll wasn’t making it home early tonight.

You tugged Tyrone towards the stairs. Everyone had converged into the basement with the strict promise not to disturb upstairs. That was already out of the window as multiple people were on the first level making out. But you wanted to do more than make out.

You pulled him deeper into the house, heading towards an empty bedroom. You checked the room and there was no one in it. Tyrone pushed you in and locked the door behind him. He turned on the light and grinned at you.

“Not so good, are you?” He asked. He pulled you closer. His warm hands circled your waist and pulled you flush against him, you could feel his thick cock against your thigh.

“Oh shit,” you gasped.

He chuckled. “You tappin’ out?” He asked.

Fresh arousal gushed out of you and you bit back a moan. “I want you,” you said. Your body was on fire from how much you wanted him.

As if that’s what he was waiting on, he crashed his lips against yours. His sexy brown lips kissed and sucked your bottom lip. He pushed his tongue inside. You tasted the Henny on his breath and moaned. You grabbed onto the sleeves of his flannel, needing something to hold on to.

He pushed you backwards as he continued to kiss you. The back of your legs hit the bed. Instead of pushing you on to it, he turned you around.

“Knees, pretty girl,” he said.

You dropped instantly. He chuckled as he looked down at you. He ran a hand over his jaw. “You always listen that well?” He asked.

“Only when I want to,” you said and grinned.

He took off his flannel and black T-shirt and removed his black tank. He worked at his belt, loosening it and pulling the zipper down. His dick sprang free with a light little bounce. You licked your lips.

Dicks were not pretty. Full stop. However, his was gorgeous. It was long and girthy and curved a little bit. The more you stared, the harder he seemed to get. He pumped himself a few times and tapped your lips with it. Precum painted a coat on your lips and you licked it up.

“Let’s see how good you are,” he said.

He sat on the bed and you scooted closer, looking at him while you lowered your mouth. You took the tip in first, getting used to the salty taste of him. You flattened your tongue and swirled it around.

“Stop playin’ and get to work,” he said. You giggled and really got to work. If he wanted to think you were a goody two-shoes, then so be it.

You sucked him in and got to work. You played with his dripping cock. You used both hands to twist as you sucked. Spit ran down his dick and you gathered it up with your fingers to properly lube him up.

“Oh, fuck,” he said. You saw his eyes widen and roll towards the ceiling. He grabbed the back of your head and pushed you down further. You gagged a few times but kept going, licking his fat tip.

“Damn bitch,” he groaned. “Help me bust this nut and I’ll take good care of you.”

You kept sucking and added more pressure. He jerked a few times. With no warning, hot splashes of cum hit the back of your throat. You swallowed it all and licked the corner of your mouth to catch the rest.

He panted as he watched you do it and his eyes grew darker. “Bed.”

You stood up, feeling your wetness between your thighs. You walked over to the bed. Before you sat down, he kissed you and bit your lip. “You’re mine.”

You sighed and your pussy clenched around nothing. Those two words were almost enough to undo you. He gripped your hips roughly and pulled at your dress until it was on the floor next to his clothes. Your panties came next. He rubbed it between his fingers once it was off of you.

“And I’m keeping these too.”

“No, you’re not. Those are mine.” The sharp smack to your ass was heard before it was felt. Stinging pain blossomed on your meaty ass.

You cried out and he did it again. He smacked you a few more times before you were pushing your ass against him for more. He chuckled. When it was clear he wasn’t going to smack you again, you climbed into the bed but you were moving too slow for him. He grabbed your legs and flipped you over like a pancake. Then he yanked you until half your ass was hanging off of the bed.

He knelt down slowly and spread your legs the farthest he could get them. “Pretty fuckin’ pussy too. Yeah, all of this is mine,” he said. His breath fanned over your exposed pussy making you shake.

“You can’t own pussy, nigga,” you said.

This muthafucka bit your thigh. You yelled out. He bit your other thigh, harder. “I’m ‘bout to write my name on it.”

You wanted to argue. As much as you wanted this fool, there was no way in hell…

“Oh god.” You had no breath left in your lungs. Your entire body froze as his tongue began to play with your clit. He lapped up your juices and inhaled it. He ate it like a starving man. Like a nigga just released from jail.

You began to move away. It was too much and too intense. You pushed at his hands. His tongue dived into your pussy and you moaned and screamed. He locked his arms around your thighs and held you open for him to devour.

As his tongue fucked you, one of his thumbs pressed into your clit. You slapped at his hand. “I’m not stoppin’ so quit that shit,” he growled. You locked eyes with him. His mouth and jaw was covered with your juices. A mix of drool and your arousal dripped from his lips. He licked those same lips as he stared you down.

You nodded. He went back to eating you out like it was his full time job. He suckled and flicked at your clit. He rubbed his nose in it. Your belly tightened as your orgasm rose up inside of you quicker than it had ever come. You tossed your head back onto the bed as you screamed your release out. He kept eating you out through it.

As you came down, you twitched as he licked one last time. You stared at the ceiling questioning your life’s choices to bring you to this moment. Tyrone chuckled as he cleaned his face off with his tank.

“You think I’m done with you, bitch?” He asked.

The only thing you could do was half grunt and half laugh. No man was allowed to call you a bitch. And he’s done it twice now and you ain’t even mad.

He helped you sit up further on the bed. Then he laid on top of you, pulling you by the chin to kiss. His tongue swiped against yours in a deep, nasty kiss. As if he wanted you to taste what he did. You tasted yourself on his tongue and it had you moaning and seeking more.

He leaned up on his knees and pumped his dick. “This gon’ hurt, but you’ll be alright.”

He grabbed your knees and pushed them down against the bed. He ran his thick cock over your clit and gathered up as much lubrication as he could. He slid the tip in and you moaned. “Fuck, Tyrone!”

He leaned down and kissed you. “My name sounds pretty on your lips. Say it again.”

You refused. There was still an ounce of defiance in you. He slid in some more, stretching you.

“Shit, shit, shit.” It stung but it also felt too good to tell him to stop. He kissed you again. “Say it.”

“Tyrone, please…” you begged. He kissed you again. “That’s my bitch.”

He kept going. Inch by delicious inch until he bottomed out. He held himself off of you as you adjusted to the sheer size of him. He was easily the biggest you had ever taken and you worried that you would never want anything else. How could anyone compare after that?

He trailed kisses along your jaw and the corner of your mouth. He whispered how pretty you were and how you were his. “So fuckin’ pretty takin’ this dick.”

He kissed and nibbled on your neck until you began to relax. Then, he started moving. He pulled out and then went back in just as slowly. Nigga was a professional at this shit.

As you relaxed and got back to moaning and crying, he sped up his thrusts. “Shit, this pussy feel so good.” He looked down at himself sliding in and out of you. Your arousal gushed out of you, spilling down your ass cheeks.

He twisted his hips and hit a spot deep inside you. “Oh fuck!” Your hips bucked off the bed. You grabbed at the sheets beneath you.

“That’s it.” He chuckled as he kept hitting that spot, over and over. One hand gripped your leg to keep you open for him. His other hand pressed down on your belly. The added pressure had you seeing stars.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you stuttered as your second orgasm steamrolled through you. He kept driving into you.

“Tyrone…” you warned. Though you didn’t know what for. You didn’t want him to stop. Your body felt like it was both buried underground and six feet in the air. Your legs ached from him holding you open but even that managed to feel good.

“You can give me one more,” he said.

“What?” You asked pathetically. Ain’t no fuckin’ way.

“I want one more,” he growled. He kept pushing his thick cock into you. You tried to speak. To communicate that there was no way you could.

He only smirked at you. His cornrows were damp with sweat. He quickened his pace and moved his hand from your stomach. His thumb played with your clit.

“Oh, shit, wait,” you moaned.

“Ain’t no wait. Give me that shit,” he said. In no time at all, you were coming again and squeezing the hell out of his dick. He moaned and panted before pounding into you. He came on a hoarse moan, pushing so deep into you he probably did leave his name there.

Hot ropes of cum squirted inside of you, painting every inch of wall he could find. He dropped his weight on you as you panted together.

He kissed your cheek. “Goddamn, bitch. I’m never letting you go.”

You chuckled. Because you weren’t letting his ass go neither.

#Megaminds Secret Files #The Secret Tyrone Files #they cloned tyrone smut #they cloned tyrone fanfic #they cloned tyrone fan fic #Tyrone x Black!reader #Tyrone x Fem!reader #Tyrone x Black reader #Tyrone x Fem reader #Tyrone x reader #Tyrone x you #Black writer

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megamindsecretlair · 4 months

Text

Midnight Sin - Chapter 4

Chapter 3 Chapter 5

Pairing: Vampire!Tyrone x Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. Long exposition that ends in smut. Oral (fem receiving), fingering (fem receiving) PIV, cursing, AU Tyrone, Toxic Tyrone. Dark fic. Dirty talk. Mentions of blood, overstimulation. The concept of "rolling" is brought up when Tyrone is able to hypnotize reader, but it is consensual.

Summary: A chance meeting at a club introduced you to the enigmatic Tyrone. He was interesting in ways that you weren't expecting. Tyrone gets a visit from his brother and needs to see you to ease a little tension.

Word Count: 8,529k

Midnight Sin Masterlist

A/N: WHEW! Welcome back, ya'll. I ain't forget about our main man. I just got a little distracted. I hope this chapter makes up for the long absence. Thank you SO MUCH for all the love towards this series! It means the world to me! I don't tag ageless blogs. Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! Ageless blogs get blocked.

Taglist: @planetblaque @dayjlovesromance @sevikasblackgf @melaninpov @amyhennessyhouse @henneseyhoe @honeyoriginalz @justheretostan @black-fairy3 @superhoeva @jarfulloftears @hereformiles @montysstuffs @westside-rot @blackerthings @blowmymbackout @euphoric05 @miyuhpapayuh @nicolexnight @8ttached @judymfmoody @notapradagurl7 @wakandas-vibranium @soft-persephone @justabovewater20 @mcotton0928 @soapjay @heyauntieeee @theyscreamsannii @mybonafidefeelings @eggnox @honeytoffee @thadelightfulone @tranquilfandomer @kindofaintrovert @l-auteuse @browngirldominion @sunkissedebony97 @lovedlover @issahyland @nerdieforpedro @umber-cinders @longpause-awkwardsmile @insburner @slippinninque @thecookiebratz

Tyrone

Tyrone sat in his office and flipped through his journal from his time in Versailles. He laughed at some of his entries. How young he was. How carefree. It was easier to hide during that time. No one really walked around in the day time except for the upper crust society and that was just to parade around for others.

The real happenings went on inside and in private rooms. There were other entries that he had long forgotten about. The friends he’d made. The loves he’d lost. An ache thumped in his chest and he absently rubbed it while he read.

This was the part he hated. He had loved and lost, loved and lost over the centuries. The loss became so loud that it was easier to forget. Easier to live in the moment. Easier to be a coward and hide.

However, he wrote so much shit down, he had no idea what Fontaine had been talking about. He briefly remembered the woman he shared with his brother. It ought to be criminal to forget someone that meant so much to them both, but when the years began to bleed together, he ejected core memories to stay sane.

A knock tore his thoughts from the memories of his youth. He called for the person to enter.

Slick Charles entered wearing another outfit that made him look like a rent-a-pimp. Thick black turtleneck sweater, overcoat, and boots. It wasn’t even that fucking cold in LA but you’d swear they were in the middle of the arctic with the way he dressed.

He entered with a woman trailing behind him. She looked like a cartoon with exaggerated, doll-like features. A wide smile and puffy, afro-like hair. She was dressed modern with an airy, flowery dress and knee high boots. She clutched a large purse against her body and walked in warily.

“I don’t appreciate being summoned, mu’fucka,” she said.

Tyrone grinned. “Nice to see you too, Yo-Yo,” he said. He gestured for her to sit but she just looked at his chair. So he shrugged and stood up. She moved back a step and he held up his hands.

“I need you to look into something for me,” he said.

“We agreed to leave our shit on the phone. Coming here is risky,” she said.

“Everything worth doing is risky,” Slick Charles said. He looked Yo-Yo over, clearly interested in the woman’s amazing body. Tyrone wasn’t immune to Yo-Yo’s looks, but he knew better than to even sniff in a witch’s direction. Besides, he had you and that was all he wanted.

“I can’t risk this particular thing getting out. I need that confidentiality you’re so fond of,” Tyrone said. He put his hands in his pockets and stared her down, making sure she understood the importance of this meeting.

Slick Charles closed the door and Yo-Yo jumped briefly. Tyrone sniffed but didn’t detect a hint of fear. No, Weavers didn’t fear things that went bump in the night.

“I need to know about any supernatural creatures with blood that particularly calls to vampires,” he said.

“Blood is kind of your thing,” Yo-Yo said. She walked further into the room but didn’t relax an inch. She looked around at his office, decorated in earth tones of brown and green. He had a couch, chairs, and bookshelf in the corner filled with his favorite books.

“I know. This one’s a rare creature. It seems like only I can smell it. And it…makes me want to drain it dry,” Tyrone said.

He didn’t want to admit any kind of weakness, least of all to a Weaver specifically, but he needed to know what you were. Maybe once he figured that out, he’d know how best to hide you. It was a miracle that you were able to survive so long. He wanted to keep it that way.

“You sound like you’re talking about a Bloodsinger,” Yo-Yo said. She laughed and looked at Tyrone and then Slick Charles.

“What’s that?” Tyrone asked.

“It’s a bedtime story for baby vamps and witches to explain why we hate each other,” she said. “But it’s just a story.”

“Tell it to me,” Tyrone said.

Yo-Yo shrugged. “I don’t even remember the shit, that’s how dumb it is. Something about your side used them in our war,” she said, waving her hand.

The name and description didn’t trigger anything in his brain. Then again, he’s lived so many fucking lifetimes, it was a wonder he remembered anything at all. Tyrone bent down and retrieved a briefcase from the side of his desk. He held it out for Slick Charles to take from him.

Slick Charles held it out to Yo-Yo who’s arm dropped when she held it. “This is more than my usual fee,” she said.

“I need this done fast, with discretion. Find out about that bedtime story. Spare no details,” he said.

Yo-Yo raised her eyebrow. “Are you saying you found a Bloodsinger?” She asked.

Tyrone flexed his jaw but smiled. “Call it a passing pet project of mine,” he said. He bared a hint of his fang. She still wasn’t scared but that wasn’t his intention. He just wanted her to know the gravity of the situation. She could not let this get out.

The last thing he needed was his Father catching wind. Yo-Yo nodded and hoisted the purse further on her shoulder.

“A little extra appreciation is a great motivator. Give me some time,” she said.

Tyrone nodded. “Thank you,” he said.

Yo-Yo nodded and casted a glance towards Slick Charles who stared at her like she hung the moon. “Fuck you lookin’ at, nigga?” She asked.

“Yo wig is sliding off,” Slick Charles said with a devious grin.

“Fuck you! Fake ass pimp,” she said. She rolled her eyes and went towards the door, opening it.

Poised to knock on the other side was Fontaine. He looked from Yo-Yo to Tyrone to Slick Charles. His wide nose flared as he scented the air, scenting Yo-Yo as a Weaver. He grinned, showing off his gold grills.

Yo-Yo scoffed. “Move nigga,” she said.

Fontaine made a show of stepping aside and letting her pass. “I’m Fontaine,” he called after her retreating form.

“I don’t give a fuck!” She called back. Her boots clicked away on the linoleum floor. Fontaine turned that grin on Tyrone and he fought a groan. The last thing he needed was Fontaine in his fucking business.

Fontaine stepped inside. He wore dark jeans, a black T-shirt, and a brown jacket. He dug his hands in his pockets, mirroring Tyrone. It was still fuckin’ weird looking at his face on another person. It was why he avoided his other brothers, like Father’s little lap dog Charles.

“Well, well, baby brother. The company you keep,” Fontaine said.

Tyrone glanced at Slick Charles. He got the message and moved towards the door. He left, closing it behind him. It was just Tyrone and his brother. He liked it better when the fucker was overseas.

“What are you doing here, ‘Taine?” Tyrone asked.

“Missed you, baby brother,” Fontaine said. He sat down in the chair across from Tyrone’s desk, making himself comfortable. His smile was smug. Fuck. Was this how he looked when he had the upper hand?

“Why are you really here?”

Fontaine took a deep breath. “I’m looking into what Pops been up to. I’m not sure what his plans are but he started this shit and I’ll end it. Been gone so long, started going around my old haunts. People started to think I was you.”

Shit. Tyrone sighed and sat down in his seat. He settled in since Fontaine was in such a sharing mood. If people thought Fontaine was him, there was no telling how much in his business Fontaine already was. And the nigga hadn’t been here but a half a week. There was no limit to what he’d discover.

“What do you know?”

“Heard someone’s trying to land a big hotel deal. That’d add nicely to your hospitality collection. Collecting them shits like Legos,” Fontaine said. He clasped his hands over his stomach. He was enjoying holding this shit over Tyrone’s head entirely too much.

Tyrone bared his fangs. “Tell me what you trynna say, nigga,” Tyrone said.

“Also heard someone is paying off other interested parties to outbid yo stupid ass,” Fontaine said.

“Who?” Tyrone wracked his brain for his list of enemies. His list of allies was much shorter. He could count that on one hand.

“Tell me what the witch was here for,” Fontaine said.

Tyrone rubbed his head. It took a lot more effort to get a headache as a vampire but Fontaine had an express lane to his last good nerve.

“None of your business,” Tyrone said.

Fontaine clutched his chest in fake outrage. “We used to be so close, brother,” he said. He grinned, betraying his little act.

Fontaine wasn’t going to give an inch so Tyrone sighed deeply. There were worse people to trust. For better or worse, he’d never gone to war with Fontaine over a betrayal. At the end of the day, they were still brothers. They shared the same face. To betray the other was like betraying themselves.

“About what you said about Versailles,” he said.

“Fuck outta here. They’re all dead,” Fontaine grinned and waved away Tyrone’s comments. But when he looked at Tyrone’s face, his grin dropped.

“Word? You found one?” Fontaine asked.

“Maybe. I don’t know what it is,” Tyrone said.

“You don’t remember the bloodlust or what we did?” Fontaine asked.

Tyrone leveled him with a stare and shook his head. “Spit it out, nigga,” Tyrone said.

“I forget what they’re called but they were the witches’ most powerful weapon against us. Creatures created with blood that’s irresistible to vampires. One sniff and we lose our higher functioning. We so busy feeding, the witches would come up behind us and slit our throats. It was a rough fucking few centuries. The Council ordered their executions,” Fontaine explained.

The acrid scent of fear flooded the room and Fontaine’s eyes narrowed. He looked at Tyrone and swore a mile long.

“You fuckin’ one, ain’t you?” Fontaine asked. “On the list of stupid shit, that’s at the top. Father will kill you for this.”

“Only if that nigga find out,” Tyrone said and snapped his eyes to his brother’s. He let his feelings show on his face. The lengths he was willing to go through to protect you.

Fontaine grinned. “Ain’t gon’ hear it from me. I hope you know what you’re doing.”

“Who’s trying to sabotage my deal?” Tyrone asked. He rubbed his head. He really needed to figure out what Yo-Yo would find out about the Bloodsingers. If Fontaine was right, you were in far more danger than just the wrong vampire scenting you. So far, it seemed like only he and Fontaine could smell you. He wanted to keep it that way.

“Issac,” Fontaine said.

“Fucker,” Tyrone cursed and sighed. He had been having trouble with Isaac running around town acting like big man on campus. The mu’fucka was a hatin’ ass nigga with nothing better to do with eternity.

If Tyrone moved left, Isaac switched lanes. If Tyrone got into real estate, Isaac was running around trying to buy up buildings Tyrone was looking into. Nigga didn’t have an original fuckin’ thought.

Fuck the wrong bitch once and he never forgave Tyrone. It took a weak person to hold a grudge for centuries. But vampires were known for their patience.

“Shoulda known that mu’fucka was on to me. I created a separate company just to get that building,” Tyrone said.

“Nigga got flies in your office. I ain’t know which ones yet. But if you quit all this animosity between us, I can keep an ear out for you,” Fontaine said.

Tyrone sighed. There it was. Fontaine never did anything out of the goodness of his own heart.

“What do you want in exchange?”

Fontaine grinned and seemed to savor the moment. He looked at his fingers. “Back my play to come home,” he said.

“What?”

“Europe is fine but it ain’t like they’re that fuckin’ friendly to niggas that look like me,” he said. He grinned and looked back at Tyrone.

“You want to come home,” Tyrone repeated. He tried to scent any deceit in Fontaine’s body but he didn’t find any. ‘Taine in the same world as him once more? It was dangerous. When they got together, they tended to end empires. Fuck shit up. Rip and run and threaten to expose their existence to humans.

“I do. And I’m tired of being banished for being me,” Fontaine said.

“Being you? You almost exposed all of us!”

Fontaine waved him off. “Maybe we need to stop fuckin’ hiding. That’s beside the point, nigga. I’m gonna find out what dear old Pops is up to and I’m gonna hold it over his head to stay here. ‘Cause whatever he’s fuckin’ up to, he sure as shit ain’t telling the Council.”

Tyrone sat back in his seat, moving side to side while he pondered Fontaine’s request. Their father was the epitome of shady. Whatever his latest scheme was, he could believe that he was doing it behind the Council’s back. All they did over the centuries was play petty games of chess with each other. No one was honest on the Council. Everyone else was just pawns in their game.

“Fine. You get my back, I got yours,” Tyrone agreed. Some part of him, in the further recesses of his cold dead heart, missed having his brother around. He wasn’t sure if they would get back to the camaraderie they had before. If they would be as thick as thieves again, but he could use an ally he fully trusted.

Fontaine smiled. “Thanks, baby brother,” he said.

Tyrone scowled while Fontaine stood up. “Keep your eye on that Isaac mu’fucka. He doing a whole lot to sabotage this deal. What makes this place so special?” Fontaine asked.

“It’s in a prime location in LA. Dead center of the Hills with an incredible view. Lap of luxury. The owner is giving carte blanche to design it according to whoever gets the deal. This type of deal? King maker,” Tyrone explained.

After so many years of living, the only thing that mattered was legacy. No one fuckin’ cared about money when you had more than enough to spend for several lifetimes. Legacy was what mattered. With no one siring natural children, name recognition was currency.

Fontaine nodded. “I’ll keep my ear to the ground. Be ready,” he said.

Tyrone stood up. “One more thing. Stop leaving your food everywhere,” he said.

“Fuck you talkin’ ‘bout?” Fontaine asked.

“You show up and now I got cops calling me about bodies turning up, blood drained. Stop leaving your food around for the humans to find. We don’t need that scrutiny,” Tyrone said.

“That ain’t me, nigga,” Fontaine said with such vehemence, Tyrone had no choice but to believe him.

Tyrone nodded. He’d have Slick Charles look into it then. If he was going to trust Fontaine, he had to take him at his word. He only hoped that it wouldn’t bite him in the ass.

Fontaine left the room, leaving his door open. Tyrone looked down at the mountain of papers he had to get through. He had shell companies on top of shell companies. This business with Yo-Yo and now Fontaine. Plus, he had to keep an eye out for Isaac’s bitch ass.

He needed a fuckin’ break. He needed you. He dialed your number and faced his window. He opened the blinds to show the busy nightlife of downtown LA. Giant neon billboards flashed with the latest bullshit to fleece the poor of the few nickels they could rub together.

You picked up on the second ring. “This is a pleasant surprise,” you answered. Just hearing your voice calmed all his nerves. His worries melted away and he found himself smiling despite himself.

“Let me take you out,” he said.

You giggled. “You don’t even eat regular food though,” you said.

“I like feeding you. Let me take you somewhere I can show yo pretty ass off,” he said.

You giggled. “Everywhere would be booked,” you said. But he could hear you shuffling around. He knew your schedule pretty well by now. You worked from home today and were likely lounging around in them little ass shorts you liked. He ought to reprimand you for keeping your blinds open inside your place. But to do that, he’d have to fess up to practically stalking you.

“Not for me,” he said.

You giggled. “Okay, where you taking me?” You asked.

“Surprise. Dress nice but not super fancy,” he said.

You sighed prettily and he found his blood heading south, remembering how he played with your body. The way you responded to his touch and kisses. He wanted to inhale you and hold you close. He didn’t care if your blood was supposed to call to him. He wanted a taste. Yearned for it.

“See you in an hour?” You asked.

“Less if I can help it,” he said and savored your laugh over the phone.

***

You

You got dressed with excited shivers running down your spine. You ran through your closet trying to find a nice date night outfit. You had plenty of options, options you had bought on shopping trips with your girls even though you had no one to take you out.

Foresight planning was a gift as you had options. You held up certain outfits in the mirrors. LA was still temperate at night, though you were approaching the months where it was hot as sin in the morning and cold as a witch’s titty at night.

You settled on a rich, purple bodysuit and sandals. You threw on a light sweater and did your makeup in the mirror while bouncing with the abject need to see this man. You couldn’t remember the last time you were this excited to see someone.

Was it simply because he was a vampire? You weren’t sure. He genuinely made you laugh and you liked talking to him. It was a different experience talking to someone so worldly. Usually the ones you found were so far up their own ass, they made your pussy drier than the Sahara.

He told you about how things changed from time to time. He literally witnessed the rise and falls of entire kingdoms. There during the most interesting points in history. It was insane. If an historian caught hold of him, you’d never see the man again.

You were fluffing out your hair when your doorbell rang. You practically skipped to the door and looked through the peephole. Tyrone stood there in a gorgeous midnight blue suit. He was thick in all the right places. His shirt bordered on obscene as the top two buttons were left undone.

He rubbed a ring on his finger as he looked you up and down, taking in your outfit. “You are breathtaking,” he said. He held out his hand and you took it. He placed a chaste kiss on your hand and you wondered if he could smell how you melted on the inside.

You hadn’t even gone anywhere yet and you were ready to turn into a puddle at his feet. You smiled and ducked your head. “You clean up pretty well yourself,” you said. He opened his arms and gripped his jacket to open it more, showing off his outfit.

“I can put a little something together,” he said. He held out his arm like an old school gentleman. He was going to kill you. You took his elbow, grabbed your clutch, and closed the door behind you.

Tyrone took you to his car, a sleek Audi Q7 in black that seemed like it was custom built just for him. He held the door open for you and you climbed in. It smelled like it was brand new and you wouldn’t put it past him if he bought the shit earlier in the day. He closed the door softly behind you and then walked around to climb into the driver’s side.

He slipped in and started the car. The display lit up deep orange and you squealed on the inside. This was the nicest car you’d ever been in. Would be the only nice car you ever got to ride in.

He pulled away from the curb and kept one hand on the steering wheel. The other, he slipped into yours and brought it to his lips while he drove. “Tell me about your day,” he said.

“I worked from home today so it was really nice to be in my own space and work at my leisure. I didn’t have to pace myself. Finished my shit by 11 and enjoyed playing hooky a little bit,” you said.

“You have to pace yourself at work?” He asked.

You enjoyed the city at night. The bright street lights washed over the car’s dark interior as he drove deeper into the city. You had no clue where he was taking you. You tried to guess even as you answered him.

“People at work hate to see a good worker succeed. If I do my work well, they want to dump more on me. Fuck that. I make myself look busy so they can leave me the fuck alone,” you said.

“That’s bullshit. You shouldn’t have to do all that,” he said.

“Tell me about it. My boss is cool but fuckin’ clueless. I’m not picking up the slack for slow niggas,” you said.

Tyrone laughed and you watched as his fangs flashed. You rubbed your thighs together, remembering how good it felt to have him bite into you and drink from you. At a red light, his eyes snapped towards yours.

“What you thinkin’ about over there?” He asked. His voice grew deeper, rougher. It only made your pussy throb harder.

“You,” you said coyly.

“What about me?” He glanced at you again before moving forward on a green light.

You were turned around now. You really had no idea where he was taking you. It was as thrilling as it was scary. You knew that he wouldn’t take you anywhere bad, but you hated not knowing. So you had control issues, sue you.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” you said.

“I really would,” he said.

You giggled. “Guess you’ll have to find out later,” you sang.

Tyrone sighed deeply. “Mhm, I see I’m going to have to teach you how this gon’ work,” he said. His voice promised all kinds of filthy things and you were tempted to tell him to turn the car around and go back to your place.

You weren’t prepared for him to see your space yet. You wanted to clean up a bit, tidy up other things, and make it look like you were at least a grown adult capable of taking care of yourself.

“Ain’t nobody scared of you,” you said.

Tyrone flashed his fangs. “You should be.”

Tyrone pulled up to a pinkish building that looked like someone transplanted a real Italian building. There was a water fountain with statue angels in front that Tyrone drove around. He pushed on his sunglasses and then stopped the car.

A valet strolled to the car a second later and opened the door for you. You got out and Tyrone came around the car, grabbing your hand from the valet. He handed him the keys and a rolled up bill.

“Look out for it,” he said.

“Yes, sir,” the valet said. He was a youngish man with tanned skin and long brain hair pulled into a neat bun. Wanna-be actor. Weren’t they all?

Tyrone walked you through the front door where you were greeted by a hostess in a subtle, professional black dress that still came across as sexy. She greeted you both, took Tyrone’s reservation, and bid you to follow.

You made sure to keep your face calm, but this restaurant was easily the nicest you’d ever been to. You weren’t a fancy person. You’d happily stroll by In and Out and sit your happy ass at home and enjoy it. But this?

Tyrone was setting the standard for literally any other creature on the planet. No person alive could compete with the way Tyrone treated you. It was almost literally a man in the streets, freak in the sheets situation. Did you even want to entertain someone who couldn’t get a drop of the hat type of reservation?

Inside, the colors were tastefully muted. There was enough light to see in front of you and the person next to you and still have it be intimate. Like a true night somewhere in Rome or Venice.

The hostess brought you to a sectioned off room. She held open the curtain and let you pass through. A separate dining room was back here, devoid of other people. Must be a slow night.

The hostess continued through and your mind spun with wild jokes about putting the Black folk in the back. They’d sit you next to the sink and feed you the cutoff scraps. You stifled a laugh as you continued down a short hall. She stopped near a door that had been left open. The breeze from outside caressed your face and you sighed. She bid you to go ahead and Tyrone’s hand slipped down to your hip.

He held you steady while you walked outside stepping on wide pinkish stones. There was one table set out here with two place settings, a bottle of wine chilling in a bucket, and a tall heater. There was plenty of ambient lighting so you could both see your partner and look out at the incredible view of Los Angeles.

Nothing lit up like Los Angeles when the sun finally went down and all those gold, orange, and white lights lit up the night sky like a beacon. It was the closest you felt to being in a fairytale.

Tyrone held out your chair and you sat down. He helped you scoot in and then finally sat down. A waiter appeared with tanned skin and dark black hair. He nodded to the both of you.

“I will be your server this evening. If there’s anything you need, press this. A light will turn on and I’ll be right there. Would you like a menu?” He asked with a slight Italian accent. You wanted to laugh. They really took a theme to the very end.

Tyrone turned towards you. “Do you want the asshole rich guy routine or the thoughtful one?” Tyrone asked.

You giggled. “The asshole one,” you said. Why not? You were feeling adventurous and dangerous. You were on a date with a vampire.

Since this was LA, you felt like you were in a movie. That you were the femme fatale rival lover who knows Tyrone is a vampire and wants him as is. Except, in your movie, you win in the end and the bland ass protagonist settles for the equally bland best friend and have lovely flour babies.

Tyrone grinned without showing his fangs. “No menu,” he said. He told the waiter that you wanted your favorite pasta, with salad. He guessed the salad dressing correctly. You raised your eyebrows. You weren’t convinced he couldn’t read minds.

He didn’t order anything for himself but the waiter didn’t show any surprise. He only nodded and left the balcony to you and Tyrone.

You looked out over LA and took a deep sigh. “This is insane, Tyrone,” you said.

He shrugged. “It was too late to buy out the whole restaurant, so I hope buying out the private area will have to work,” he said.

You gaped at him while he removed his sunglasses. It was harder to see color with this low light, but there was nothing human about Tyrone. He didn’t seem to mind, even as the waiter came back and poured the glass of wine that was chilling in the bucket.

The waiter left and Tyrone swirled his glass lightly. The red wine smelled heavenly, but that didn’t mean it would be good.

“You did what?” You asked.

Tyrone grinned and took a sip of the wine. He licked his lips and you fought a wave of arousal. Tyrone’s eyes only flickered towards you.

“It’s not fair that you can guess my moods like this,” you said.

“Think of all the possibilities,” he said. He tilted his head. “What if we’re playing hide and seek?”

You clenched your thighs. That…sounded like an excellent idea. “Or when we’re in public and you can’t wait to get home,” you said.

“Tease. Who says I would wait ‘till we got home? I’d fuck you any place and anywhere. I’d fuck you here too and watch you cum beneath these stars,” he said.

You were a puddle. He could probably hear your heartbeat increase too. You took a deep breath as that particular image filled your mind. That was a little too public for your tastes. But the idea had merit.

Tyrone grinned. “We ain’t gon’ get through this dinner,” he said.

You fanned yourself and leaned towards the soft breeze rather than the heat lamp. But the wind was too weak, cut through by all of the LA hills.

“We are. You didn’t spend this money for nothing,” you said.

“I spend money on nothing on the regular. At least with this, I get a beautiful view,” he said, looking at you. You tilted your head at him. He was so damn fine. That hint of a beard, sexy big lips, that wide grin. And those hands…

“No, we’re adults. We can behave ourselves through dinner,” you said.

Tyrone nodded and grinned. Topics moved on to safer and boring subjects. You discussed your respective families. That you had ties to the Caribbean but were a few places removed. Your grandmother had stories of island life from being a little girl, but her family was here in LA.

He told you about some of the lifetimes he’d lived. Some of the famous celebrities through history he’d met, plus some that should have been famous. How he helped steer the course of history in some cases.

Your food came in the middle of it, but your attention was on Tyrone and his stories. He didn’t break stride as the waiter placed your food down. The waiter moved away without another sound.

He hung around many a president trying to get them to abolish slavery or any other atrocity they cooked up. Sometimes they were ignored, sometimes they had to roll a mind, sometimes they had to kill.

“Roll a mind?” You asked.

“We can’t read minds but we are skilled hypnotists. We can make you see or feel all kinds of things,” he said.

“What sorts of things? Have you ever rolled my mind?” You asked.

Tyrone looked you in the eye. “No. I wouldn’t do that without permission,” he said.

“I’m curious about it,” you said. You wondered if he could convince you to do things. Bad things or good things.

Your mind stirred with all kinds of scenarios where you were a vampire. You weren’t entirely squeamish about blood. You’d miss food terribly. But you’d be able to move fast, super strong, more energy. The idea appealed to you strongly. You eyed Tyrone. If you asked, would he turn you into a vampire?

“With your permission, I’d do it,” he said.

“You have my permission,” you said instantly. Tyrone grinned, showing that bit of fang. You couldn’t forget that he was a vampire. In the event that you did, you weren’t stupid. You knew that he was a dangerous creature capable of snapping your neck. But you had been waiting your whole life for something cool to happen. Now that it finally did, you weren’t going to ruin it with logic. You wanted to see all of it.

Tyrone nodded and you expected him to do it then and there. When nothing happened, you smiled. “Did you do it already and I don’t know?” You asked.

You polished off your meal, not able to eat another bite. You sipped on wine.

“That’s later. When I got you spread open before me. Showing that pretty pussy. When you’re so blind with need, you’ll agree to anything. Completely at my mercy,” he said. He pitched his voice lower and you watched his lips.

Your pussy fluttered and he grinned. “You like the dark side of me.”

He didn’t say it as a question but you answered anyway. “I want to know all of it.”

“Even how many I’ve killed?” He asked.

“Have you kept count?” You asked.

He leaned back in his seat and sipped the wine. You mirrored him, finally trying it. Shit. It was delicious! The perfect mix of sweet and dry, exploding with flavor on your tongue.

“Yes. Everyone. That doesn’t bother you?”

You shrugged. “Would I get mad at nature running its course?” You shrugged. You weren’t going to compare him to a dog out loud. But would you get mad at a dog running? A cheetah with spots?

“You think vampires are natural? Not magic?” He asked.

“Isn’t magic natural too? Would it exist if it weren’t?” You asked. You smiled. Tyrone smiled.

“Okay, enough with the philosophy,” he said.

“I don’t know. I’ve always been weird about death and killing. I can remove myself from the bigness of it, if that makes sense? Otherwise it’s all I think about,” You said.

“Have you always been into vampires? Or is it werewolves and witches too?” He asked.

“Are they real too? How can you tell?” You asked.

Tyrone looked at you as if he were asking himself questions and answering them himself. It played out in his eyes. Each answer, he widened his eyes a little wider.

“Do you have magic in your family?” He asked.

You shrugged. “Not really? My grandma believed in a lot of shit,” you said.

He looked at the cityscape and you relaxed into an enjoyable silence. You liked when people could sit in silence sometimes. There was no need to force conversation during a moment of quiet.

“Let’s get out of here. I want to try something,” he said.

He stood up and grabbed your hand, pulling you to stand. He led you to the door and out of the restaurant. With every step out of there, his hand descended lower and low on your ass.

He practically had a handful as you went out the front door. He handed a valet his ticket and his car was pulled around. The valet opened your door and handed Tyrone the keys. Tyrone shook his hand, closed your door, and then climbed into the driver’s seat.

“Want to experience what vampires can really do?” He asked.

“Yes,” you said.

He leaned in conspiratorially and licked his lips. He smelled faintly like the wine you had and you leaned in closer, leaning in for a kiss. He grinned.

“I want you to be sure,” he said.

“I’m sure,” you said. He finally kissed you. You smiled.

So far, he hadn’t shown you anything to truly frighten you. You were sure in your knowledge that he could kill you at any second. And so far, his intentions were only to spend time with you and fuck you silly. And you really did love hopping on his dick.

Tyrone grinned. He put the car in drive but kept his eyes trained on you. He maneuvered the roundabout with ease and went out into traffic with his eyes on you.

You weren’t that cool. You had to glance in front of you to make sure that he wasn’t going to hit anything. He hit untold speeds, flying down the street. Your hand gripped the seat belt around your chest.

Tyrone stopped at a red light and smirked at you. “Want me to stop?” He asked.

“Don’t you dare!” You said and giggled. You heard your heart roaring in your ears. Your hands shook with adrenaline.

Tyrone licked his lips and looked down at your body suit. He reached out with his right hand to curl against your left titty. You always felt that it was your bigger side. He lightly rubbed his thumb over your nipple.

You bit your lip. You didn’t wear a bra underneath so it took no time for your nipple to pebble. He pinched your nipple and you gasped with pleasure.

The light turned green, the color spreading over Tyrone’s face briefly. He didn’t remove his hand from your titty. He was taking sick pleasure in eliciting sounds from you. He sped up, going impossibly fast.

You had no choice but to focus on his hand massaging your breast. It felt so fucking good. You didn’t really think about your boobs while having sex. The guys you dealt with weren’t sure either.

Tyrone seemed to delight in every inch of you. It was so liberating to have more than a few curves and have a man appreciate it. Genuinely appreciate it. There was no guessing his true colors. He just wanted his hands all over you.

He flicked your nipple and you finally broke into tiny, shudders that wracked your body. He breathed deeply and you wondered if he smelled how turned you were. If you were soaking through your panties.

He watched your reactions with a type of focus usually reserved to solving a puzzle. There were no words. Just your eyes on each other while he was driving a car through LA. You were breathless with exhilaration.

You knew that you finally arrived at your destination when Tyrone slowed down into a series of turns. It was an observatory but didn’t seem like Griffith. The road turned a bit rocky as he pulled up towards a cliff edge. The parking lot was empty and there were a few well placed lamps that briefly reached his car.

The jet black interior seemed to melt into the night. There was only the orange-ish light from his car’s dash. He turned the car off and the orange light faded away. The car was charged with the electricity flowing between you.

You couldn’t see him. He could likely see you though. He’d told you about how vampire night vision was basically like seeing in the daylight, except with a faint tint. You looked out of the car’s windshield. You were higher in the hills looking at LA and you sighed. It was so breathtaking.

“Remember when I said I wanted to fuck you beneath some stars?” His soft voice seemed loud in the car.

“Here?” You asked. “What about your car?” You asked.

Tyrone chuckled darkly. “I can get anything cleaned. If not, then replaced. If not, then I’ll buy a fleet of these and let you make a mess over all of them,” he said.

Your pussy clenched hearing that. You were not into other people’s money. You were independent as fuck. However, hearing that he would do such a thing was turning you on. A fleet of cars just for you to cum all over? Where did you sign up for that job?

Tyrone got out of the car. He slammed his car and opened yours a second later. Here, he didn’t have to hide. He could show off his vampire powers, moving at impossible speeds. He pulled you to the edge of the seat. You thought it might be too high but you were angled perfectly.

He faced you. There was a hint of light on his face so you could see that his focused face returned. He pushed your sweater off of your shoulders. You tossed it onto his side of the car.

He grabbed your ankle, held it over his thigh, and started to unsnap your sandals. He still held that one while he picked up the other foot to do the same thing. He tossed those onto the floor.

He grabbed the top of your jumpsuit and rolled it down. Your titties popped out and he licked his lips. The downside to wearing the jumpsuit was that he’d have to peel off the whole thing to get to your panties. Those, he rolled down your legs as well. You were completely exposed to him and the elements while he still wore his dark suit.

There was something so profoundly naughty about that. Tyrone moved forward until you were laying on your back. There was only so far you could go comfortably and not have to rest on the hard armrest. You held yourself up by your elbows while Tyrone spread you further.

He dropped to his knees, kneeling in that expensive suit, so he could bring his mouth to your pussy. He moved your legs to his shoulders. His tongue flattened against your pussy and you moaned. Your back moved off of the seat as he licked and made out with your pussy.

You didn’t stifle your moans. You let him hear how much he was pleasuring you. You let the colder air carry your moans down the mountain where no one would hear. “Oh, fuck!” You moaned.

He groaned while he ate you out. The sound sent shivers down your spine. He flicked his tongue along your seam and you shivered fiercely.

You couldn’t hold this one off. You came with a high-pitched wail. Tyrone kept flicking that sensitive clit until he suddenly withdrew. His fangs sank into your thigh and you screamed with another orgasm. Your thighs slapped against his ears and he continued to suck you through it.

You turned a pinch lightheaded when he stopped. He licked your thigh and you felt your thigh burn as magic knitted your skin together to stop bleeding. The scar would remain so that he would always know where to bite you.

Your teeth chattered as he stood up, kissing your thigh and then your belly. You weren’t cold from the air. You were freezing from him snatching your body warmth with those orgasms.

He kissed up your chest, stopping at the top to spend time licking and sucking on your nipples. His fingers played with the outer edge of your pussy before pushing thick fingers inside you.

“Oue, shit,” you moaned. “Tyrone, I-”

“Yes, you can. You can give me a few more,” he said.

“A few?” You asked.

“Mhm, a few more. You feelin’ how you grippin’ my fingers?” He asked.

“Yes,” you moaned. Heat suffused you. Your pussy throbbed. After cumming, you still gyrated on his fingers while he played with your insides. He began to curl his fingers in a come hither motion, lightly stroking you and you were another incoherent mess under his fingers.

“Don’t that feel much better? Hm, I can’t wait to feel that on this dick,” he said. He kissed up your chest, sinking his teeth into it. He pulled blood out of you, sending sparks down to your pussy.

You gripped his fingers with renewed fervor and he moaned. He pulled his face away slowly, gathering breath as if he had run a mile. He licked away the bite, letting this one completely heal.

“Been missin’ the way this pussy feels,” he said. He pulled you closer, letting half your ass lean out of the car.

He gripped his dick and ran it through your dripping folds. He bit your lip and moaned as he ran across your sensitive dick.

“Pay attention,” he said. His eyes found yours in the dark. His eyes seemed to glow with an inner light. It began to drown out everything around you. You felt like you were falling forward even though you knew you were laying down.

“Pay attention,” he said. His voice echoed in your head. You were no longer falling, you were being pulled into the depths of a red ocean. You couldn’t see to the bottom. You were suddenly in it, splashing about, screaming. Screaming for what?

“Pay attention.” You were pulled under the water. The acrid scent of copper filled your nose and you opened your mouth to scream some more. On the outside, you were quiet and you felt calmer than you ever had.

It was like all of your worries and doubts vanished, leaving your mind pleasantly empty. “Look at the stars,” Tyrone said.

You looked towards the sky and gasped. Each ball of light seemed to be on fire. And closer. Lights dancing in your eyes as if you had taken a swim on the moon with stars as your backdrop. Your vision turned watery as the majesty of it was too much to bear.

Tyrone’s dick circled your clit and you moaned painfully. You were ten times more sensitive. He skittered along nerve endings you didn’t know existed around your pussy. You felt wetter and needier, burning up with the desire to cum. It was like he was a gift from the heavens. A personal vessel for handing out pleasure like candy.

He moved into your view. You could look away from the stars, it wasn’t like his control was absolute. But the stars looked so incredible. You felt like your vision increased. That the stars were close enough to touch.

Tyrone pushed inside and you leaned up, pushing at his clothed chest. He was so damn big. Even with as wet as you were, he still stuffed you completely. You whimpered while he moved his hips, pumping into you.

This was the most intense sex you’d ever had. You’ve had sex while high and while drunk, sometimes crossfaded, and all of it paled in comparison to how sensitive you were right now. It was like you took an aphrodisiac and slowly became a vessel to receive pleasure.

He moved more easily inside of you, pumping you while you looked at the stars. You came once more, huffing and hollering until you were screaming out his name. On the heels of that one, you were screaming from another one.

Each time, the stars seemed to flare to life, growing brighter as your orgasm built inside of you. As the pressure built in your lower belly. As your clit throbbed painfully until you couldn’t take it anymore and were bursting with the power of a million suns.

Your breath was robbed from you as Tyrone leaned down and kissed you. Your lips were sensitive as well. You felt his warm lips press against yours. His hot tongue seeking and playing with yours.

He hiked your legs higher on his hips and pounded into you relentlessly. You gripped the seat cushion for purchase but it was useless. You managed to groan pathetically when he pulled out. When he slammed back in without mercy, you couldn’t breathe.

He used his hands to push your legs backwards, until you were neatly folded. Your pussy gripped him tighter at this angle and he groaned, dropping his head to your shoulder. The wet slap of his dick against you turned you on more.

Everything turned you on. The focused look on his face. Slightly smug like he knew he was killing your shit. The way his fingers gripped your thighs to the point of bruising while he rammed inside of you. You gripped onto his shoulders. Maybe if he held onto you, you wouldn’t get sucked into a black hole of ecstasy.

“Fuck, gripping’ the fuck outta me,” he moaned. The tension you sensed earlier seemed to leak out of him the longer he pounded inside of you. His face grew slack as he groaned low in his throat.

He bared his fangs and you prepared for him to bite you again. But he was content to throw his head back, push forward, and groan out his climax. The feeling of his dick twitching caused you to moan and join him.

You cried, tears running down your cheeks, as your juices mixed with his. You contracted on his dick and he groaned. Your hand dug into his chest, pushing at him, but he only leaned into it. Letting your hand slap at his chest while the pleasure was too much. Entirely too much.

“Squeeze that shit. Let me feel it. Let me feel how I make this pussy feel,” he moaned in your ear.

He nibbled on your ear while your thighs shook with the aftershocks of your orgasm. You couldn’t bear to let another one take you over. You were exhausted and exhilarated at the same time.

He moved his lips to kiss you. It was sloppy and all over the place but it was the best damn kiss of your life. Your toes curled from that alone. It was a mix of hot and sweet. Where he pressed into you as if he wanted to disappear inside of you. But his lips were soft and his tongue playing with yours.

You moaned into the kiss, contracting around him. He echoed your groan and pumped a few more times. He leaned back and spread your legs, watching himself leak out of you. You moaned as you felt his cum sliding out, sliding down your ass, dripping out of you. He licked his lips as if he wanted to soak it all up.

Instead, he pulled you into a sitting position. “Thank you,” he murmured against your lips. He gave you lazy kisses while you calmed down.

“I didn’t do anything,” you said.

“Gettin’ in this pussy is the only solution I need from now on,” he said. He dropped more kisses while running his hands all over your overheated skin. Everywhere he touched, it was like a signal went off in your brain to make you moan. Your nerves were still on fire.

You ran your hands all over his smooth figure. You couldn’t get to his skin, but it was enough to feel the promise of his muscles. You wanted more. You wanted to feel him naked on top of you. You wanted to ride him.

He grinned. “I have to keep remembering you’re human. I don’t want to break my new favorite toy,” he said. He kissed your cheek and you giggled.

“You’re so corny,” you said.

“Want me to stop rolling you?” He asked.

“Not a fucking chance,” you said. “Take me to your place,” you said. You bit your lips seductively, looking from him to where he was standing in front of you. His dick bobbed as you stared at it.

He chuckled. “As the Lady wishes,” he said.

He helped you get dressed. You opted to leave the sandals off. He tucked you neatly into the car, closing the car door. A second later, he climbed into his side. There was no way to clean up from an impromptu session so you had to sit in the evidence of your neediness while Tyrone sped through LA.

The lights whizzed by and you sat and enjoyed it without overthinking. You felt free. Wild, untamed, exotic. You didn’t want this night to end.

Masterlist | Chapter 3 | Chapter 5

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