#itsbackwoodsbby
Text
His Favorite
Trevante Rhodes x Black Fem Reader
Warning: Religion! Recreational Drinking! Smut! Protected Sex! Stripper!
Summary: Trevante's favorite stripper is out of work for a while and has no one as a replacement. You decide that you want to be his favorite. Not just for the night. His forever replacement.
Sunday, he’s always in the church. In the front row, he is watching his dad preach about how wonderful God is. But even saints need to let loose and be wild. On the weekdays and Saturdays, you can catch him at Pink Paradise, the best strip club in the city. He comes in and gives a few dancers money, and once he gets hungry, he’ll go to the bar and order something. When his army friends come with him, he orders hot lemon pepper wings and Hennesy. He orders a small appetizer and a soft drink when he's by himself. Depending on whether his favorite chef is in the kitchen, which is a rare occasion, he’ll order shrimp and fries with lemon on the side.
Then he’ll come to find his favorite dancer to get a lap dance from. She’ll take him to the back and give him the dance of his life. When he pays extra, she opens her throat for him. It’s not the best, but what is a recently honorable discharged army man with no wife supposed to do?
It’s Sunday, you sit down in the church, running a tad bit late. You had a late shift last night, but you’ll be damned if you missed church. You see him in the front as usual as you listen to the pastor talk about how God will make a way out of no way. Then, it shifts to him congratulating and thanking his son for his time in the service. He then calls him up to stand next to him.
“Trevante, son. I love you. I’m so proud of your accomplishments in the service. God has blessed you and worked on you. Because you know you used to be a handful. Boy, you used to give me hell.” Pastor Rhodes says. Everyone laughs at that comment. “But you grew up an amazing strong-minded, young man. You know how to stir away from temptations because the army gave you a new mindset.”
The statement makes you giggle. Stir away? Please! It’s Praise Pussy Sunday tonight at Pink Paradise and you know you’ll see him tonight. And his favorite dancer is out with the flu, so you’re going to be his replacement tonight. Hopefully, you just be his new favorite forever.
Around 9 pm, you get ready to go to work. You shower and put on something comfortable and easy to take off so you can put on your work outfit. You pack your work bag with two extra outfits, lotions, perfume, wipes, two mini bottles of Crown Royal, makeup, deodorant, and gum. You head to your pole room, grab your money bag, and empty out the cash from Saturday night. You quickly count it and you see you made $659 that night.
You go to your car and you head to Pink Paradise. You look in the parking lot to see if you see Trevante’s car. You know he's here when you see that black 2023 Corvette with the top down. You walk inside the club. It’s packed as usual on Praise Pussy Sunday. You see the girls in outfits. Some of them dressed as nuns, priests, and other sexy holy things. You go to the locker room. As you maneuver through semi-naked women and bare-naked women, you can hear that Trevante is the talk of the room. You can hear the other girls murmur amongst themselves. “Yo, Kream is gone. And I saw Trevante in the crowd tonight. I love Kream, but I want Trevante to myself. You don’t say anything, you just get dressed. If you say anything about wanting Trevante, the girls will eat you up. You recently started stripping, so they call you a baby stripper. It’s best to stay silent, but you have to prove that you have more experience than an actual baby stripper. As you do your makeup, you take one of the bottles of Crown Royal to calm your nerves down. The club’s atmosphere usually is laidback, but you have to know what you’re doing. If you don’t, you’ll barely get anything and it’s very hard to come back after making a fool of yourself. One by one, the girls dance and you patiently wait until your turn. You have a special performance under your sleeve.
You peek out the curtain to observe the room. It is sort of blurry from the haze of people smoking weed. You look around until you spot Trevante. He is talking to his friends in a booth, fucking up those hot lemon pepper wings. You keep that spot in your mind for your performance. As To My Bed by Chris Brown comes on, you feel the crowd's laughing and talking fade in the background as the lights dim. You walk out slowly and sway your hips to the melody. Everyone is focusing on your body, but your main focus is just to get his eyes on you and it is clear he is just as entranced by you. Your movements are slow and sensual, but you feel no shyness on stage.
You are a natural at this. Your hips grind to the song, slowly making their way towards him, watching him react to each move. You reach the pole, tracing a circle around its base. The beat drops, and you take hold of the pole and begin to slide down it slowly. You swayed your hips in a slow circle, teasing the crowd but keeping the focus on Trevante. As you slide down the pole, you lean forward and let your body rest against it, teasing your body shape just enough to create the desired effect. The crowd yelled out their approval, but you couldn't keep your eyes off the one man in the booth. Everyone is throwing money and your other dancing peers are shocked that you have this talent in you.
After your dance, you go into the locker room and use your baby wipes to get the sweat. The girls are hyping you up as you’re changing into your second outfit for the night. After that, you walk around the club. Customers are giving you tips and complimenting you. You go to the bar to get a drink and you’re about to pay when Trevante stops you and says he will pay instead. He smiles at you and you see he is wearing his grillz. You almost faint as you look at the shine. You would honestly let him take you down right now in front of these people, but you have to have some decorum. You two sit at the bar.
“Can I get what the lady got?” He asks the bartender, who starts making the drink again. You take a baby sip of the drink. “Thank you for paying,” You smile at him. “You’re welcome. You were amazing.” He says to you biting his lips. “I ain’t never seen you before. You must have recently started working here.” He asks you. “Yeah. I started working here a few weeks ago.” You smile. “Thanks, I try when it comes to dancing.” You say, trying not to sound too cocky, but you are proud of yourself. “Say, do you know where Kream is?” He asks you with a curious look on his face. “Oh, she is going to be out for a few. But, I can always help with your Pink Paradise needs.” You smile at him. He smirks, “Oh, a newbie can help me? He laughs at your smile drops from your face when you hear the word, newbie. “I’m just playing. Show me what you got.”
You take his hand and walk him to the back. As you’re walking back there, some of the bitter girls are mad. They try to stop you from giving him a dance. “Trevante, what about Kream? She wouldn't like that her replacement is a baby stripper.” They say to him, but he doesn’t care.
When you get in the room, you lock the room. The lights in the room are a low-light purple and the floor has a white fur rug. He sits on the couch and looks at your body some more, loving your curves and that ass behind you. You walk to him and start giving him a lap dance. Sitting on his lap, grinding your hips, teasing him as if you are about to kiss him, and kissing his neck. You stand up and get behind him. You rub up and down his chest. You see he is getting stiff in his pants. You smile and look at him.
“I can’t be doing bad for a newbie.” You smirk at him, as you get back on top of him and rock your hips on him. “Not at all.” He grunts lowly and starts feeling your body. “Do you do more?” He asks you. You eye him as you continue dancing, “As in?” He smiles, “Do you give head? Sex?” You smile at him, “Yeah, but it’s extra.”
Trevante didn’t care. Honestly, he needed something new. Kream is okay, but he needs better. And you are probably letting him fuck you. It is a win-win for him to have a new favorite.
He pulls his boxers and jeans down and his semi-hard dick is staring at you. You get on your knees and waste no time and take his whole dick in your mouth. You start bobbing your head down his dick and you feel his hand travel to your head. He guides your head down his shaft. You look up and see his mouth is hanging open, licking his grillz. You then begin to feel his grip on your hair tightly and start getting rough hitting the back of your throat. You gag a bit, but you take it like a champ. You come down and start sucking on his balls as you stroke his shaft.
“Shit, you damn sure can suck dick better Kream, that’s for sure.” He mumbles under his breath, biting his lips as you come back up and resume sucking his dick.”Yeah, suck this dick.” He throws his head back on the couch and places his hand back on your head. He pushes your head down further as he begins to twitch in your mouth. This tempts you to suck him faster. He closes his eyes and he nuts in your mouth. You swallow it and your mouth slowly comes off his dick.
“Damn.” He tries to catch his breath. You giggle at him. “Did I do okay?” He looks at you, “You did better than okay. Damn.” He repeats making you laugh. “You know, you can always do more.” You smile at him. He looks at you, “You playing?” You shake your head at him, “No, I’m not playing.” You give him a slow strip tease and he looks at your bare naked body. He pulls you to him and smacks your ass. “Damn, your body is so perfect, baby girl.” You smile at the compliment, “Thank you.” He hovers over you, and you look at him, “So where do you want me?” You ask him. “On the floor.”
You lay on the floor and the next thing you know your legs are in the air and he’s eating you out with his grillz on. You feel yourself sinking into the floor, gripping his head. His tongue swirls around with your clit. He pulls your legs on his shoulders and shakes his head in between. “Trevante, fuck.” You moan out and start caressing your breast.
Your legs stay on his shoulders, but you feel something teasing your clit. It slides up and down and once it’s at your entrance, he pushes all of his dick inside you. You grip onto the floor as he stretches your pussy out. He is generous enough to let you adjust to his big size. Once you are comfortable, he starts deep stroking inside you. Even though you don't necessarily have to be quiet because of the loud music, you still try not to be loud. You bite your lip and look into his eyes. Mistake. This makes him fuck you even more while looking deep in your eyes. He folds your legs up to your ears and goes deeper inside you, making his curve tease your spot.
“Deeper! Deeper!” You cry out. He smiles and begins hitting your spot. Your eyes roll to the back of your head. You couldn’t believe that the preacher’s son is fucking you like this. “Aye, mamas, look at it.” He groans out. You bite your lips as you watch his dick go in and out of you. Then he starts pounding and gripping your neck. Your eyes close as your body gets tingling from being close to your climax.
“Mm, is my new favorite going to cum for me?” He teases you but confirms you’re his new favorite at Pink Paradise. You nod your head yes. He pops your thigh, causing you to gasp and exhale your moan out slowly, “Yes, yes. I’m going to cum for you. Shit.” You cuss under your breath.
He holds your stomach down and goes deeper. You squeal as you cum on his dick. He keeps going until eventually he slows down and cums. You whine as he pulls out. He falls back on the floor as well. You two lay and stare at the ceiling as his phone goes off multiple times and one of the other girls is banging to get in the room. You sigh and giggle.
“That was so amazing.” You admit to him. He smiles. “Yeah, it was.” You two catch your breath and he looks at his phone and laughs. You look at him, “What’s funny?” You ask, being curious. He shows you his phone. His homeboys are blowing him up.
“Yooo, T? Where you at nigga?”
“Trevante, if your ass is not out here in 3 seconds, you paying this bill.”
“Man, nigga is you getting some pussy? Ain’t no way you still in the back room now.”
You laugh, “Well, we should probably hurry up and get you back to your friends.” He nods as he takes the condom off and the two of you get dressed. He looks at you and bites his lip. “Say, can I get your number? This normally ain’t like me. But … it’s something about you.” You smile and look down, “Yeah, you can.”You put your number in his phone and in return, he pays you for your services. He gives you close to $1,000. You smile and thank him for the money.
You are pretty exhausted from fucking, so you decide to go home. You go to the locker room and receive a few dirty looks, because you got Trevante all to yourself. The rest of the girls are hyping you up. You smile and thank them. You get dressed, head back to your house, and instantly run in the shower to wash the sex off your body. Afterward, you lotion up, put your pajamas on, and begin counting up your money tonight. You made $1256. You finally made four-digit money. You smile and go to your bed and lie on your silk sheets. Your phone dings. It’s an unknown number. You look at the message.
“Hope you sleep well tonight. Definitely my new favorite lol.”
With another solid confirmation like that, you smile and sleep like a baby.
#poc writer#celebrities#black fanfiction#itsbackwoodsbby#smut#x black fem reader#black fanfic writer#short story#black tumblr#black writer#trevante rhodes#trevante rhodes x black fem reader#trevante rhodes x black fem reader smut
319 notes
·
View notes
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
#Megaminds Secret Files#Megaminds Asks#They Cloned Tyrone#Fontaine x Black!reader#Fontaine x Black reader#x Black reader#Fontaine x Fem!reader#Fontaine x Fem reader#x Fem reader#Fontaine x reader#Fontaine x you#Fontaine fanfic#Fontaine fan fic#Fontaine fanfiction#Fontaine fan fiction#John Boyega fanfic#John Boyega fan fic#They Cloned Tyrone fanfic#They Cloned Tyrone fan fic#They Cloned Tyrone fanfiction#They Cloned Tyrone fan fiction
171 notes
·
View notes
Text
Toxic Love
A/N:.... it's been forever since I've posted...I'M BACK WITH THE SMUT GUYS. Don't be afraid to comment either!!!
A/N#2: he got some pretty teeth y'all
This for you @itsbackwoodsbby 🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾
(She wrote something for me. Gotta get her backkkk)
------------------------------
To say that you and your man are a toxic couple is downplaying just how toxic y’all actually are. He cheats and cheats, yet you stay. “Why?” is the million-dollar question. You could say you love him, but you could also say you love the money he makes. See your man is a drug dealer, but not just any ole drug dealer, he’s feared. He’s not to be messed with in any way, so what made you finally get his lying and cheating ass back? The most recent bitch he cheated on you with.
Her name is whor- Hazel. Hazel been tryna get at your man forever. You’re surprised he even fucked that fuck-anything-that-walks, homewrecking ass girl, but niggas will be niggas you guess. You’ve come to realize that they’ll fuck anyone and anything.
Anyways, you got him back by fucking his fine ass, big dick-having-ass cousin. Guess it really does run the family, but the dick was trash and the head was bomb, but if your man asks then all of it was better than him.
You could only imagine how crazy he acted once he found out, but he was almost done with his drops for the day so you’d find out in a minute or two.
---------------------------------
You hear a car door slam and shortly after the front door slam too, “Ayo what the fuck am I hearing bout you fucking my cousin Dre?!”
You almost laughed, his anger was comical to you. You admit you did act like this when you found out he cheated the first time, but as smart as he is… you figured he would’ve figured everything out by now.
You shrugged at him, “Oh they talking about that already? Damn word get around fast. And don’t be slamming the doors in this house!”
“It’s true? You sit up here living this lavish ass lifestyle and you decide to act like one of yo lil friends and fuck anybody with a pulse.”
Okay, he was doing too much now. It’s not like you slept with half the motherfuckers in his gang unlike someone (Hazel).
You stood up off the couch, “Nah, Trevante fuck you! I don’t know why you tryna make me out to be some type of hoe but that shit not gone fly. Yo black ass acting like I fucked yo brother or something. It was just your cousin so back up off me.”
He walked over to you and got in your face, “Tell me that shit not true. Tell me it’s not so I can go pop the nigga that told me.”
Damn, did he have the grill in today? Top AND bottom too? Mhmmmm.
You stared up into his eyes as innocently as you could while he looked down at you, “Sorry baby, but… it’s true. And it was sooo good, too. He fucked me way better than you.”
God, he’s wearing the cologne that makes you soak your panties in record time.
“Oooooh now he’s better than me? I’ll murk that nigga right now, blood or not. Keep on testing me, ma.”
He’s gonna fuck you up. He’s no longer mad at the get back, but the thoughts of another man fucking you better and that you could possibly leave him because of that haunt him now.
“I’ll be here to wash your clothes when you get back. Just don’t come in here dripping blood and shit. It’ll be a bitch to get out our new carpets.”
Trevante could see how unphased you were about this whole thing and it only pissed him off more. You gave away your pussy and that belonged to him.
He grabbed your neck and got real close to your face, “Say he’s better than me again, and watch what happens to you.”
You smirked, this is exactly what you wanted, “He’s better than you. Maybe this will teach you not to fuck with dirty ass hoes.”
He chuckled, tightening his hold on your neck a little, “So you mad I fucked one of yo lil friends?”
“She’s not-” He cut you off, “Right. She’s not. But you really went out and did what you did as a get back? You put on your big girl panties and took a shot at me? That’s a mistake, baby.”
He pecked your lips then threw you over his shoulder, “You gone regret that shit.”
“Baby-”
“Nah, don’t “baby” me now. You was just talking all that shit, it’s time to put your money where your mouth is.”
Trevante took you to your shared room and sat you down on your feet then grabbed your neck again, making you look at him, “You gonna be good for Daddy?”
“Mhm.” you avoided his heated stare. You knew what he had in store for you was gone have you acting right...for now.
He tightened his grip on your neck, “Words ma, or you not gone get what you deserve.”
“I’ll be daddy’s good gir-” he adjusted your head to look at him in his eyes, “Good what?”
“I’ll be daddy’s good little slut.”
He pecked your lips and let your neck go, “Take your panties off. Ass up, face down.”
------------------------
Taglist: lmk if you wanna be added or taken off
@prettyisasprettydoes1306 @thatone-girly
@blackerthings @roguekiki @enigmadivine
@novaniskye @ziayamikaelson @twocentuar
#becauseimswagman1#x black reader#smut#trevante rhodes#trevante rhodes x reader#trevante rhodes smut#black fanfiction#black fanfic writer
104 notes
·
View notes
Text
O M W
Yahya Abdul Mateen II x Black Fem Reader
A/N: I say this is a sequel to ICU. Soooo if you haven't read ICU...go read it, mamas.
Warning: Smut! Public Sex (Balcony Sex)! Oral Sex! Unprotected Sex!
Summary: As soon as you knew Yahya was done with the gym, you texted him that you needed that dick. He gets ready and gives you exactly what you want.
Inspo: O M W by Tonio Hall
As soon as Yahya walks out of the gym, his phone rings. He knows it’s you because you have a special ringtone. He looks at his phone and sees your explicit messages. Your smooth bare body, laying in the bed touching your body, lowering down to your pussy. He chuckles and replies, “So, you miss me?” He teases you. Your replies send him as you beg him to come over to your house and fuck you senselessly and how you need his dick badly. He puts his stuff in his car and gets in. He replies, “Okay, let me shower. I’ll be there.”
He starts driving. Though he doesn’t need the hype to fuck, he puts his sex playlist on. The first song that comes on is O M W by Tonio Hall. It gets caught in his head, so he puts it on repeat. His mind is filled with how wet your pussy is now as you impatiently way for him, the many dirty things he wants to do to you, and how he was going to break that pretty little pussy of yours.
He gets out of his car and goes inside his house. He put his gym bag in his gym room. He smiles as that special ringtone goes off again. He looks at your messages, rushing him to come to your house, telling him how impatient you are. He texts you and tells you he’s getting the shower. He spends a few minutes in the shower, thinking about all the surfaces to fuck you on. The couches, the counter, against the wall, and on your balcony so the city can see how crazy you are for this man’s dick.
“Coming, running to you whenever you say.”
He sings along as he wraps the towel around his waist. He dries off and gets dressed in something light. He puts a hoodie on and some basketball shorts. He places his beanie on and puts his hood on as well. He walks out and his phone chimes that same ringtone, “Yahya where are you?” He texts back, “I am on my way, mamas. I just got in the car.”
He starts driving to your house. The red lights are pissing him off. It is hard not to break the law and keep going. As he waits for the red light to turn green, he thinks about eating your pussy, letting your juices drip down his beard. Then picking you up, laying you down on the counter, placing your legs on his shoulders, and fucking you senselessly like you asked him to do. A car honks the horn bringing Yahya out of his thoughts. The light is green and now Yahya is only a few blocks away from your place.
As he parks in the parking garage, the phone chimes again and it’s you. “Baby, hurry up. I can’t wait any more.” He smiles and replies, “I am here. I am getting in the elevator now.” He gets in the elevator and leans on the wall. The door opens and he walks to your door being semi-already opened.
He comes in and sees you lying on the couch, naked. He closes the door behind him, takes his hoodie off, and starts kissing your neck, making you even wetter. He kisses you down your body and he starts kissing and sucking on your thighs. You grip his head as he sucks on your clit. His left hand creeps up on your body to your neck and he squeezes it a bit. With his other hand, he’s fingering your pussy. You cry out as the pleasure is too much already as he pumps two fingers in and out at a fast speed still flicking his tongue on your clit. Yahya looks at you. He rubs your clit as he starts talking you through your climax.
“Come on, mamas. Let that pussy come for me.” He rubs your clit faster. “Yahya, Yahya…” You call his name out in whine. His eyes fill with more lust as your lower half jerks up. “I am coming, baby. I am coming!” You shout out. He smiles at you as you release, moaning a sweet tune. He takes you to your balcony. You look at him eagerly. “Yahya, are you forreal?” You squeal. Balcony sex has always been on your list and you get to do it with the person you love. “Yes, let’s do it.” He gives you a cheeky smirk.
He lowers his basketball shorts and you get on your knees. He holds your hair as you start bobbing your head down his shaft. He grunts as your hand starts to massage his balls. Your other hand strokes his dick as you suck him. You look up at him with a sultry look. He bites his lips in return and grabs the back of your head tightly. Suddenly, he is fucking your throat. Your eyes water up and he wipes your tears and smiles at you. His dick begins to throb and twitch in your mouth. You smile and go faster. He holds your head close to his stomach and he cums in your mouth. You swallow his cum and he holds you there until he can get the feeling back in his body. You are a little winded, but you stand up and look at him. Just in a matter of seconds, he regains his energy.
He bends you over the rail and rubs his tip against your clit before he fills your pussy up with his dick. You sharply inhale and exhale slowly. He automatically starts pounding inside you. You try not to be loud since you’re outside, so you close your mouth to reduce sound. Yahya grips a handful of your hair, pulls you back, and lowly whispers in your ear, “Let the city hear you, baby girl.” He lets your hair go and you fall back on the rails. “Yahya, fuck, fuck! Don’t stop please baby don’t stop.” You cry out. Hot tears running down your face. Yahya’s hands travel up to your boobs and he fondles with them. The city lights begin to blur as he starts hitting your spot. You whine and grab his stomach, but he pins your arm behind you, “You said senselessly. Imma give you what you asked for.” He buries his dick deeper inside you.
Your body is filled with so much ecstasy. You are shouting at the top of your lungs about how Yahya’s dick is the best and how good he feels fucking you. “That’s right. Tell them how you love this dick.” He grunts. “I love this dick, baby. Fuck I love this dick.” You moan out as you clench tightly around his dick. “You going come on this dick?’ Yahya asks you in a husky voice. Yes, yes!” You shout. “I am going to come on your dick.” You start trembling and your body jerks up as you release on his dick. He slows down for a bit for you to slowly relax your body and hang on the rail. He doesn’t give you much time as he resumes pounding deeper inside you.
You feel him in your stomach and you feel your body start feeling like jelly. Your legs start to buckle and you grip tighter to the rail. He holds your hip and picks his pace. Your bottom lip starts to quiver and you keep blinking your eyes, trying to say conscious. Yahya starts twitching inside you. “Where you want this nut, mamas?” He asks you. You don’t answer, so he slams into you in between words. “I said, Where… Do… You.. Want… This Nut… Mamas? Inside you?” Your lips quiver more as you moan, “Yes, yes Daddy. Fill me up.” His last slam, he comes inside you. His dick twitches into you for a bit before he stumbles back. You fall to the ground and try to gain consciousness and your breath. Yahya leans on the wall and it takes a while to regain his energy back.
You tell Yahya you’re done, but he shrugs. What did that mean for you? You were getting fucked into the morning. Yahya made his dirty thoughts into a reality. He fucks you on the counter. He fucks you against the wall. He fucks you in the shower. He fucks you on all surfaces in your apartment. After you got pounded into the headboard, you finally collapsed and you are out for the count. He smiles and smacks your ass, proud that he accomplished his mission.
#black fanfiction#poc writer#celebrities#x black fem reader#black fanfic writer#short story#smut#itsbackwoodsbby#yahya abdul mateen ii#yahya abdul mateen ii smut#rated r#late night#black writer#black tumblr#black smut
281 notes
·
View notes
Text
A/N: confession- pretty sure this was wrote the beginning of this year… like february/april. went through a lot. never forgot it though. revisited it a lot to read what i had. just never finished … here it is … nov. 22nd at 3am. removing the cobwebs and putting it for the world to see. hope you guys enjoy it. definitely not proofreading this, so excuse the errors.
ICU
Yahya Abdul Mateen II x Black Fem Reader
Warning: Smut! Unprotected Sex! Dinking (Recreational)! Swearing!
Summary: Yahya and you used to be together, until you both realized that you were better off as friends. You start dating again and none of the guys are really for you. a lonely night in your apartment makes you realize that Yahya might be one.
Inspo: ICU by Coco Jones
you come into your apartment and place your purse on the counter and take off your heels. you head to the kitchen and make yourself a very strong peach margarita on the rocks. after you make the drink, you trudge to your living room and sink deep into your couch, replaying the date in your head. he was an hour and thirty minutes late. he got loud with the waiter for getting his food wrong. the waiter was new and scared. so our waiter changed to a waitress and he starts flirting with her for the whole ass night. you groan and start face palming.
there’s no way you go out with yet another asshole. get it together y/n.
“alexa, play icu by coco jones.” you blow out, very upset with yourself.
she follows your command and the music plays.
you close your eyes. the cadence of coco’s beautifully crafted voice fills the room. you get up and look at the night sky and admire the stars. they looked so delicate in the sky. then, you were startled by a pair of hands wrap around your waist as you felt lips on the nape of your neck. you know who it was without turning around. it was him. but you don’t fully know if it’s him. you turn around to face this man and you were right.
yahya… the one that got away. you guys met through mutual friends who were trying to hook you guys up. a few weeks later, you two started dating. he was amazing. he called you every day to check on you, random flowers, occasional dates. sweetest guy ever. then, he got busy with work and you got busy with work, the two of you barely saw each other. slowly, texting each everyday went to no text for many many weeks. so you two decided with your busy schedules to just be friends.
as you two were facing each other, you don’t speak. just admire each other. you start to think how the hell you went this long without this man. his warm embrace and his touches were the best thing ever in this world. you two dance together to the song. your head resting easily on his chest his arms. you haven’t been this relaxed in a while.
as soon as the song goes off, yahya disappears. you open your eyes and realize you were only daydreaming about him in your lonely apartment. the condensation of the glass now soaking the couch. you shake it off by finishing the rest of your drink and heading to the bathroom to shower. you start playing your shower playlist and get inside. when you turn on the water, you let a sigh out and let the water rain down on your body and lean on the wall.
your thoughts travel to the first time you shower with yahya. you close your eyes again and he’s back in the shower with you. he hold you tightly and you reciprocate the same tight embrace. you look up at him and kisses his chest. he smiles at you and kisses your forehead. then somehow, you pinned against the shower getting dicked down by him. you’re grabbing onto to the shower curtain, screaming, because the pleasure is so unbelievably amazing. he just chokes you and plants his soft lips onto yours to quiet you down. you’re on the verge of coming. he goes deeper and hits your spot until you’re creaming all on his dick.
then… he’s gone again.
y/n … don’t do it. fight it. you don’t miss him. it’s just the alcohol and that horrible ass date.
you try to repeat it to yourself in the shower as you wash your body. you get out the shower, get dressed into this, and do your nighttime routine. when you get done, you go into your room and decide to write out the things you have to do tomorrow. trying to be productive and organize. afterwards, you scroll on instagram and the first post yahya. at a dinner party with your two mutual friend, leilani. they were cuddled up together… and not in a friendly way. your emotion start to show and you’re jealous. you sighs and lay in bed and try to go to sleep. but no matter what, you started feeling him cuffing him, making you miss him more than you think you actually think you do. you sit up in bed and look at the time. 1:30am. finally breaking and deciding you need to talk to him, you grab your phone and a cardigan to wear. heading to the living room, you grab your keys and glasses. you’re heading to the door and you open it and see yahya was about to knock on your door.
“uh… hey y/n.” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “i know it’s late and all but i just really need to talk to you.” you touch his chest and tap him. just to see if he’s real. he chuckles, “are you okay?” you sigh out, “yeah.” you giggle, kind of embarrassed. “this night has been crazy.” you say. “come in. make yourself comfortable.” you say moving out of his way so he could come in.
he comes in and you two sit on the couch staring at each other. “so. how have you been?” he starts off. “i’ve been good. started back writing.” you say. “and yourself?” you add. “that’s good. i’m amazing. finishing up filming with leilani. it’s been really fun.” he smiles really hard. “that’s good.” you say, trying to cover your jealousy. you don’t think he catches on to it but he chuckles, “what’s up?” he asks and you give him a confused look. “what do you mean?” he shrugs a bit, “you just said it dryly like you’re jealous or something.”
you laugh it off but he was spot on. he could always tell your emotions. and you didn’t know if you hated it or loved it but now… you definitely hated it.
“anyways yahya. what are you here for?” you asks him, trying to avoid the question. he breaths in, “y/n … i miss you.” you look at him and you’re super speechless. “what do you mean?” you stumble out somehow. “look… i understand we didn’t have time for each other at one point of time. but i really like you. hell i love you. i can’t even get you out my head.” he says. “you love me? what about leilani?” you ask him and look down. “what about her?” he looks at you confused. “aren’t you two together?” he chuckles and it turns into a laugh. “no, we’re not. it’s just for the movie.” you look down kind of embarrassed. “oh okay.” you smile at him and giggle. “i miss you so much yahya. with everything that’s being going on… it showed me how much i miss you. how much i need you. us breaking up was a mistake. i love you too.” you say, as it feels like 100 bricks has been lifted off your shoulders.
you both admire each other again. eventually, you shy away and look down because you both have been staring too long at each other. he lifts your chin up and caresses your warm cheek with his thumb.
“don’t break contact.” he says, looking into your eyes, more like your soul.
you just nod your head and look at him. eventually, the two of your lips collide with each others. this feeling right here is what you missed. after the kiss, you two catch up with each other some more. with a bottle of wine and some music, the conversation starts to get a little sensual.
“yahya… when is the last time you had sex?” you ask him boldly out of nowhere. he laughs, “well uh, i haven’t had sex since we broke up.” he places his glass down and eyes you down. “did you give my pussy away to someone else?” you astounded at the way he reworded the question, “wow, uh way to throw me off guard.” you giggle. “nope, i didn’t give your pussy away.” he smiles at you, “good girl.” making you bite your bottom lip. “mm … let me put this wine up. it’s a little warm.” you say and head towards the kitchen.
you open the refrigerator and place the wine in there. you close it and before you can turn around you feel those muscular arms wrap around your waist. you smile. his hand begins to fumble with the trim of your romper and his finger starts brushing against your clit. you remove your body from the romper and turn around to face him. he licks his bottom lip, letting you know, it’s about to go down.
꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷ (resume spot)
the time was now 2:30am. the room was filled with skin clapping and moans and groans. you looked back at him. it’s crazy how you were just scared to make eye contact with him a few minutes ago, but now you’re looking back at him with the most sluttiest, lustful eyes. making him know, you want more and he gave your more. a little too much more. you grab his chest and slowly trailed down to his stomach to slow him down a bit. however, he just grabbed both your arms and pinned them to your back.
“fuck! yahya, please it’s too much!” you cry out as he smirks at you. “baby girl, i know you can take this dick.” he grunts out. you sigh and bury your face in the pillow and moan into it. he smacks your ass, “i want to hear you, y/n.” you jump up a bit and bury your face into the pillow again. he shakes his head, “well, you put this one on yourself.”
he pull you up from the pillow by your hair. your back is now on his stomach as he digs deeper inside your pussy. your moan resume filling up the room as you relax your head on his shoulder. he kisses your neck and pulls your waist closer to his, making sure you don’t run from this dick. you grip his muscular arms and dig your nails through them.
“oh! oh! fuck! baby, i’m about to cum.” you squeal out. “cum on this dick, baby. he kisses your neck as you clench tighter and tighter around his dick.
you wet his waist down with your orgasm. you fall back on the the bed and try to relax as he was still fucking you. it wasn’t as aggressive. your throbbing pussy was bringing yahya closer his nut as he hovers over you, planting wet kisses down your back and giving you slow deep strokes. a few seconds later, he pulls out and cums on your back.
“shit, i really needed that y/n.” he says as he smacks your well bruised hand printed ass. “lemme go get you a towel.”
he goes to your bathroom, runs some warm water on two rags, and comes back and cleans his mess off your back. you arch your ass up to stretch like a cat. yahya spreads them cheeks to clean your pussy up from the wet mess you have, but gets distracted by your glistening pussy. he smirk. you look at him.
“oh, no. you’re not eating my pussy again.” you say, but you wiggle your ass at him. he touches your clit and rubs it slowly with his thumb. “oouu, shit, baby. i just said no.” you saying, but both of you already knew you wanted him to eat it again.
he starts having a full blown make out session with your clit. you couldn’t do anything but hang your mouth low and push his head closer to your pussy. he grips your cheeks and spread farther apart from each other and licks up and down. you close your eyes and bite your lip.
“mhm, baby. just like that.” you nod your head and start grinding your lower half into his face.
he grabs your waist and pull you even more closer to him, burying his face in your pussy and starts shaking his head in between your cheeks, getting his nose wet in the process. you couldn’t understand how you just fed this man your pussy almost an hour ago and he’s still eating this motherfucker like he’s hungry. your clit starts to pulsate, meaning it was time to cum again. you sigh as you cum in his mouth this time. you flip on your back and watch as he gets the semi-cold rag. he barely puts it on you, yet you still jump up.
“too cold. too cold.” you hiss out and he laughs. “you want me to just lick the mess up?” he jokingly says. “yeah.” you say laughing.
you didn’t think he would take it serious since you laugh, but he did. you let out a moan and he chuckles and comes up to your face and kisses you sloppily while let you taste yourself on his lips and in his saliva.
“see how good you taste, mamas?” he says after the kiss. “yes.” you smile, giggling at him. you two cuddle for the rest of night and watch the sunrise in the morning and making up for the time lost. then eventually, you both go to sleep.
Next >>
#Spotify#yahya abdul mateen ii#back from the dead#lol nah it was a mental health hiatus.#poc writer#x black fem reader#late night#candyman#aquaman#all day and night#black writer#black fanfiction#itsbackwoodsbby#past relationships#back together#smut#celebrities#short story#black tumblr#ICU Coco Jones
178 notes
·
View notes
Text
A/N:y'all i'm seriously not a haechan girl. but i wrote this for my friend @becauseimswagman1 (i am always writing for this whore lol, i love her tho.) a while back and i decided to share it with y'all.
Birthday Sex
Haechan x Black Fem Reader
Warning: Smut! Drinking (maybe i drink too much)! Unprotected Sex! Swearing (i love cussing sorry)
Summary: It’s your birthday bitchhh!!! Happy Birthday! In this, you will see how Hyuck celebrate your birthday.
hyuck never was one for public outings. he rather be lowkey and stay inside. but tonight was different. it was your birthday. and after you told him you’ve never celebrated your birthday, he wanted to change that.
you two order food and wait for it to be served to you. hyuck does nothing the whole time but hype your head, making you smile. when the food comes, you take a picture on snapchat, with the caption, “birthday dinner date with babe! #22FINALLY” you post and you guys eat the food.
haechan and you just talk and eat. the normal couple stuff about the future: marriage and kids. ideally, hyuck wants to start a music group of his own, but he said he’ll settle for two or three kids, which is perfect for you. as for marriage, it’s no secret that hyuck wants to marry you right now, on the spot. but he’s waiting for his baby girl to be ready.
after you guys eat, you go out dancing and drinking. you just turned twenty-one, so why the hell not. a few drinks in, you two went from simple dancing to sensual and seductive dancing. he’s touching all over your body as you're grinding on him. everyone is looking at you two, but y’all don’t give a damn. y’all are having fun. hyuck starts kissing on your neck and smacking your ass. your body temperature was rising as you want more than just to feel his touch. you wanted to feel him inside you right now, and you can tell he wanted the same because you could feel him starting to have an erection. that turned you on even more.
hyuck starts lowering down your body and when he reaches your shorts, he realized they’re a little wet. he bites his lips and whispers in your ear, “you soaking through your shorts… why are you soaking this much baby?” then he processes to suck on your neck making marks. “hyuck… can we please leave?” you moan very low.
he smiles and takes you to his house, where there are rose petals leading to the his bedroom. inside his room, is even more rose petals and champagne on ice and chocolate covered strawberries and whipped cream, which was your favorite. the bed has rose petals in a heart shape. you tear up. no one has ever done something special for you on your birthday. hyuck holds you and kisses you forehead.
“thank you! i love you, hyuck” you say, trying not to cry. “ugh, you going to make me ruin my makeup.” he smirks, “i am going to ruin your makeup later anyways don’t worry.”
he lays you down on the bed and attacks your neck with kisses, and switches between kissing and sucking. when he starts lowering down your body, he strips both of you down and instantly starts eating you out. eating you as if he hasn’t ate in days. you grabbing the sheets, trying not to climax fast, but tonight his tongue is working new miracles. he adds two fingers in and starts pumping inside of you really fast.
“hyuck… slow down, please baby. it’s too much.” you say whimpering, but you knew hyuck wasn’t going to slow down.
a few more pumps, you’re coming on his face. he smiles and lick your mess up. he comes up to you and kisses you with tongue, making you taste how sweet you are. he goes back down and smiles. he flips you over and aims his dick at your entrance. “wait, no condom?” you ask him, while looking back at him. “not tonight.” he smirks. “i want you to feel every inch of me.” he says.
he smacks your ass, making you yelp then, he rams inside you, giving you no time to adjust to him. he starts pulling your hair as he processed to go faster. “hyuck, oh my god, fuck!” you say as he shoves more of his dick inside you. he just slyishly smiles at you, “that’s right, take this dick for me. i know you can, you little slut.”
at this point, you can do nothing but whimper and cry. your makeup is all on the pillow and smeared on your face. hyuck has never been a gentle man when it comes to sex, but he’s never been this rough either. he’s damn near going crazy, loves the fact that he breaking you.
you start running from his dick a little, he pulls you back, “nah baby girl, don’t run. i promise. you’ll regret.” you catch yourself fully running away from hyuck. he pulls you back but he lets slide. but you know you can’t make another mistake or it’s over for you.
but silly you makes another mistake. you were on the verge of climaxing. the more he hit (more like abused) your spot, the more you clench around his dick. “you better hold that shit baby girl. you don’t, it going to be much fucking worse than this.” he says before pounding even more aggressively into, making you disobey him, and cumming all on his dick.
he pulls out and smirks, “who told you to cum?” he smacks your ass very hard. “i know i damn sure didn’t.” you start begging for his forgivness, “hyuck, please, i am sorry. i didn’t mean to.”
but hyuck is stubborn and he doesn’t forgive you so simply. he flips you on your back and rams back inside you, repeating the same process of when he had your ass in the air. this time, however, it’s different. he breaking you down even more this time, which his dick and his eyes. his hand has better access to your clit, and he’s rubbing it, making it more senstive than it already was from your second climax. with the other hand he was choking, which was driving you mad crazy.
you’re on the verge of your third climax of the night and your legs starts shaking uncontrollably. hyuck notices, and smirks, “you want to cum baby girl.” you choking on your pleasure tears, so you just shake your head yes. he laughs a bit, “words baby girl, words.” he says smacking your boobs. you stop choking on your tears, but words can’t come out your mouth. he laughs cockily, “well, until you find words, this pussy about to be destroyed.”
he starts pounding inside you even more aggressive than last time. it somehow brung words back to you, “fuck! fuck! fuck! hyuck, i want to cum for you daddy. please, please, please let me cum for you.” you cry, warm tears run down your face. he smiles at you, “that’s my good girl, cum for daddy.” he says.
you cum on his dick one last time for the night (or so you think). hyuck’s strokes starts getting slower and sloppier. then, he pulls out and cums on your stomach. he looks down at you and laughs. “did i break my princess?” you look at hyuck and cover your face in embarrassment. he chuckles and moves your hands and kisses all over your face. “don’t be embarrassed, baby. you look sexy whimper and breaking over me.”
you smile and kiss him. you two kiss for a while and then he goes and grabs a towel to clean his mess of your stomach. though, when he comes back, most of it is already gone. he looks at you and you giggle, “i didn’t want to waste my food.” he smirks and cleans you up.
he lays in the bed with you. you thank him for making your twenty second birthday a night to remember and the two of you end the night drinking champagne, feeding each other strawberries, and eventually, you guys fuck the night away.
#haechan#lee donghyuck#nct 127#nct smut#nct 2023#nct x black reader#celebrities#kpop#nct kpop#lee donghyuk x reader#kpop smut#x black fem reader#black fanfic writer#black fanfiction#itsbackwoodsbby
138 notes
·
View notes
Text
(A/N: *sighs* where do i begin? i feel like i’m always saying i wrote this for @becauseimswagman1 … but i mean i did. i haven’t even started watching gen v yet. but one lovely late night, she was fangirling about jordan (as per usual) and i came up with the idea that jordan can split into two. she fought me on it. her exact words, “Physically impossible” and I know it is, but sometimes you have to let your wildest thoughts and fantasies win. so here we have my masterpiece … well at least i hope it is to you.)
Splitting Into Two
Masc Jordan x Fem Jordan x Black Fem Reader
Warning: smut! threesome sex! swearing! VERY DOM FEM JORDAN!
Summary: While chilling with Jordan Li, you tell them your secret about how you developed a new secret about your powers and you encouraged them to try it as well. these new secret for Jordan is that they can split into two. You being the horny fuck you are, you decide to try what it would be like fucking both Jordans.
You and Jordan were chilling in your room, vibing and listening to music. Well, you have made Jordan in the mood to listen to K-pop music with you, but don’t tell them. You had something urgent to tell them, but you were kind of scared, if their answer was bad, you could always control it to the answer you wanted. Great pro of having telepathic powers.
“Jordan.” You call out to them. “I discovered something new with my powers.” They move their hair out of the way to look at you, “What is it?” You get up and move your radio with your thoughts. They look at you, “Whoa! That’s pretty cool.” They smile at you. “How did you learn to do that?” You look at them, “Well, I was doing homework and I wanted water, and randomly a glass of water just floated to me. At first, I thought it was my roommate playing a trick on me being invisible and all, but she wasn’t even here.” You explain.
They smile at you and praise you. They always wanted to see if they could find something else extraordinary about their own powers, but honestly, they were too scared to try. You encourage them.
“Just relax and think of something. If you think about it and you feel like a tingle or something, maybe you can do it.” You pat them on the back.
They start thinking and thinking with their eyes closed. You watched them eagerly. You would love to see them uncover this new unique way to use their power. A few moments later, you see Jordan split into two. You do a double take. You couldn’t even believe it. They look at one another.
“Whoa! This is crazy.” Fem Jordan touches Masc Jordan’s cheek. “This is the other me.” Masc Jordan laughs. “No wonder, the girls like you.” Fem Jordan says about the masculine version of themselves. “Same to you, too.” Masc Jordan daps them up.
You however remain speechless. Both versions of Jordan have always been attractive to you, but seeing them both at the same time is completely mind-blowing. You sit in your blue bean bag. They laugh at your reaction.
“You act like you’ve never seen us before.” Masc Jordan walks over to you, and taps you, which makes you jump because Fem Jordan was sitting directly in front of you. “No. No. At the same time is scary. But it’s so cool.” You start gleaming looking at them standing about you. “Well, thank you for helping us discover this. Is there any way we can pay you back?”
You think for a moment. There’s one thing you want with them. And that’s sex. But you don’t know how they would feel about it. But it’s not like you haven’t mentioned it before. Jordan knows that they make you feel a certain way. Sometimes, they tease you because they love the way you fold for them. So what’s the harm in asking for sex?
꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷
You are squirming and trying to worm your way out of Masc Jordan’s stronghold around your waist, but they aren’t letting you go. Fem Jordan’s tongue game was crazy, but the fact they are making themselves even more vigorous is insane as it is pleasurable. You’re trying to push them away with your hands but Masc Jordan grabs your hands and pins them to your thigh.
“Fuck, Jordan. Sl-slow down.” You beg them, but your whimpering meant nothing to them. They went faster and started energy blasts to your clit. You jump up and start feeling yourself starting to leak out. “Ahh, ahh! Jordan, I’m about to cum. I’m about to cum.” You whimper out. Suddenly, your body jerks up again as you start coming really hard.
You start to catch your breath. You look at Fem Jordan as if they were a monster. They just smirk at you. You think to yourself, “What if they used my toy on me? I am a mess when I use it! They’re going to go crazy on me with that thing. I’ll be shaking for months.” Suddenly, your nightstand opens and your favorite toy floats out and lands in Fem Jordan’s hand. They smirk at you even more.
“What were you thinking about Y/N?” They slyly smiled at you. “Nothing. Nothing. I don’t know why that came out of there.” You try to play off as if it was nothing. Fem Jordan glides the toy on your already wet clit. The cold metal feels amazing and it’s not even on. “Come on, Jordan. Just put it back.” They chuckle and shake their head at you. “Nope. I am not done with you. I just prepped you for the both of us. Now … it’s my turn with you.” Fem Jordan says.
They turn it on at a normal pace and let the vibrations send chills down your clit. You jump but your clit is familiar to the feeling of this toy. You smile at them. They did live for your perfect smile, however, they wanted to wipe your smile away and make you beg. With their powers, they took the toy’s power to another level. Now this feeling was WAY different and it was the more you always wanted with this toy. To add more pleasure, Masc Jordan was kissing your neck and massaging your breasts as they still held on tightly to your body leaning on theirs. You honestly felt your soul leaving your body slowly as they pleased you. The speed of the toy goes even faster. Your body jerks up.
“Jordan, chill out. Please.” You beg out. Though that’s what they wanted to hear, they only brought the toy to a high speed. “Ahh, no no. Slow down Jordan. Please.” You whine out. They shake their head. “Nope.”
Your body keeps jerking up and down, but you can’t go anywhere. You sigh in contentment and take your fate. Your moans and whines fill up your room and slowly, your juice is all on your sheets, Jordan, and the toy. As soon as Fem Jordan takes the toy off your clit, the toy breaks completely from a new speed. You look at them and they laugh.
“Maybe, I got a little carried away.” They say, making you look at them. “You think?” You pant trying to catch your breath. They just chuckle, “You enjoy it though. Right?” They look at you in a teasing yet serious manner. You just nod your head yes.
“I’m guessing it’s my turn now?” Masc Jordan asks you. “Yes. It is. But let me catch my breath.” You try to catch your breath some more.
Fem Jordan didn’t want you to catch your breath. They wanted to see you get destroyed instantly, but Masc Jordan granted your wish. As you catch your breath, you decide to go ahead and help Masc Jordan get hard. You place your hand around their dick and start stroking them. They gasp in complete shock but love what is happening. You continue to stroke and kiss their cheek.
They groan in your ear, “Uh, Y/N. Don’t stop.” You smile. “You don’t want me to stop, baby?” They shake their head, “No… noo. Keep going.” They groan in your ear.
They turn to kiss you and you kiss them back. Fem Jordan is watching and caressing and kissing up and down your body. This was a dream come true honestly.
“Uh! Uh! Y/N… I’m coming. I’m about to cum.” Masc Jordan whimpers as your other hand rubs their sensitive tip.
Their cum was already leaking out. You couldn’t control yourself and you start sucking on their tip. They throw their head back before releasing it all in your mouth. You look up at them and show them that you swallow it all. Both Jordan’s look at you impressed. You giggle and then lay on your stomach. Slowly, you begin to arch your back. They watch in awe as you start shaking your ass. Fem Jordan smacks it along with Masc Jordan gripping it.
“Damn. You left your big ass handprint on her ass.” Fem Jordan chuckles. “Hey, you left a mark too.” Masc Jordan remarks. “I don’t mind.” You giggle and wiggle your ass side to side. “I do however need to be fucked.” You smile.
Masc Jordan slides their tip in. You’re instantly grabbing the sheets. They were already stretching you, but you loved the feeling. Eventually, they shove the rest of it and wait for you to adjust to this new big size. Fem Jordan is impatient, but they don’t show it. Masc Jordan wants to make love to you and that’s what they did. They filled your body with slow deep long strokes. They drove your body mad.
“Ah. Jordan, you feel so good.” You moan out. They smile, “Mm, so do you baby girl.” They say back to you.
They plant light warm kisses down your back. This is what Heaven feels like. All of a sudden, you got pulled up by your hair and your neck had a new accessory wrapped around it. Masc Jordan’s hand. They start choking you and pounding inside you.
“Ah! Ah! Jordan. Fuck.” You grab their stomach and try to push them away, but they don't bulge. “Take this dick.” Masc Jordan growls.
Your eyes roll to the back of your head and you start to wonder where all this energy came from. You open your eyes and see Fem Jordan smirking at you. They gave Masc Jordan some more energy. You sigh and look at them.
“You… just want me to be punished.” You managed to push the words out. “Me? I wouldn’t want the poor baby to be broken like this.” They say in a sarcastic manner and give you the most cheeky smile.
You roll your eyes back again and your toes begin to curl. The room is now filled with your moans and the sound of your skin clapping with theirs. The grip on your neck was so tight, you started blinking in and out of consciousness. Fem Jordan gets in front of you and shakes your face.
“Hey baby girl, don’t lose consciousness. Focus on me.” They point to themselves smirking at you.
You just continue taking the dick and batting your eyes, struggling to keep them up. Fem Jordan kisses you which causes you to gain a little sense. You sloppy kiss them back though for every few seconds you were either moaning or trying to stay focused on them. Soon, Masc Jordan starts hitting your spot.
“Ooh, ooh. Right there! Right there baby.”You whine out as your walls start clenching around their dick. They groan out, “You're going to cum for me, baby girl?” They ask you. You frantically shake your head yes. Both Jordan’s shake their heads, “Nah we need words. Are you going to cum on this dick?” Masc Jordan asks you again. “Yes, yes, yes! I’m going to cum on your dick.”
Masc Jordan keeps hitting that spot and as soon as you cum on their dick you collapse into Fem Jordan’s body. Masc Jordan pulls out and cums on your ass cheeks.
“Do you think we did too much?” Masc Jordan asks. “Nah, I think we did what we needed to do.” Fem Jordan says before smacking your ass. “Wake up baby girl.”
You don’t bulge. Fem Jordan chuckles alongside Masc Jordan.
“Go get her a towel. Get my cum off her.” They say.
Fem Jordan goes to get a towel for you and tosses it to Masc Jordan who wipes their cum off your ass cheek. The motion sort of wakes you up.
“Damn. That never happened before.” You say. They just laugh. “Well, do you feel okay?” Masc Jordan asks. “Yeah. I just know one thing.” You look at Fem Jordan. “You owe me a new toy.” You weakly giggle. “Don’t worry baby. You won’t need a new toy dealing with us.” You look at the bit of them, “You’re damn sure right about that one.” You let out a giggle.
#gen v#jordan li#poc writer#x black fem reader#black fanfic writer#black oc#black fanfiction#itsbackwoodsbby#smut#celebrities#gen v x black fem reader#gen v fanfiction#jordan li x black fem reader
78 notes
·
View notes
Text
Locker Room Sex
Stephen Curry x Black Fem Reader
A/N: I wrote this for my pleasure. I AM TWENTY, so there is an age difference. I am sorry if you don't like the age gap, but I still am obsessed with this FINE ASS man so don't judge me, judge ya mammy.
Warning: Age Gap! Dirty Talk! Cheating! Swearing! Unprotected Sex!
Summary: You were messaging Steph Curry for a while and then eventually he ghosts you. You were desperately in need to talk to him. For reasons. For answers, on what exactly is going on. You sneak in the Golden State locker room and you definitely get more than answers.
You greeted and told the guys goodbye and goodnight as they left the locker room. He was the only one left in the locker room taking a shower. He turned the shower off and came out with a towel wrapped around his waist. You look at his body. He was very toned for a 35 year old. You bite your lips and start imagining him with the towel dropped.
“Uh… can I help you?” He asks you kind of sternly. You look at him nervously. “Uh yeah. May I get an interview?” He looks at you, “You’re not an actual interviewer.” Reading right through your bullshit. “I’ve heard of ABC, ESPN, and Ballislife. Never have I heard of Big Balls Entertainment.” He reads your fake ass badge your best friend made you.
You swallow hard and you try to come up with a new lie, but you can't. Honestly, you only here to talk to Stephen Curry and possibly even fuck him. But you obviously know the plan is blown, so you walk out. He grabs your arm.
“You know fans can’t be back here either. You can go to jail.” He tells you. You sigh. “I just wanted to see you. You stopped replying to my messages.” He looks at you, “Wait, you’re the girl that I was snapping.” You bite your lips and shake your head before you look down. “And when you stopped texting me, I had to find a way to see you and talk to you.” He starts examining your body as you are talking. “Aye my eyes are up here.” You say sternly. He chuckles, “My bad.” He clears his throat. “Look. I have a wife. I have three kids. I can’t be doing this with you.” You look at him and nod you head. “You’re right. I’m so sorry.” You say as you get up to leave the locker room.
You don’t know why you thought your plan was going to work. You two are 15 years apart. He has a family. You just want him back though. You guys were only talking and sending nudes through Snapchat. It shouldn’t have got this deep as in you sneaking into the Golden State locker room.
A voice comes back to the locker room. It’s Klay. Steph and you run to the shower room and you hide in there as Steph puts on some clean boxers and goes back into the locker room. You listen to their conversation until Klay says he has to go home to see his doggie son, Rocco. He leaves and it’s just you and Steph. You were about to leave and he grabs your arm again.
“Nah. Wait a minute. You can’t leave yet.” He says. You look at him confused, “Maybe we can hook up one time.” He says before caressing your body. “You just said you don’t want to be caught up with me.” You say biting your lip as he squeezes your boobs.
Steph wanted you now. It’s only because he remembered his wife was going for two weeks for a cooking show. The kids were with his parents. So you could be his little cum eater while his wife was away. It wasn’t like Ayesha would care. He can just dispose of you when he got done.
You strip down and go inside the shower room taking your clothes with you. You wanted shower sex and he wanted the same. He smiles at your naked body before you disappear and follows you. He takes his boxers off and pushes you down on your knees.
“You said if you were to see me, you’d suck it.” He smirks. “Do it.”
You start with his tip and slowly lower down an inch. His dick is really big and thick. It’s kind of hard to swallow. You’re a big girl though, so you push through. Eventually you’re damn near eating his dick up.
“My balls need love too.” He says and pushes your head down. You bite your lip before you start sucking on his balls. He smiles and groans even more. You smile knowing you're doing a good job. “Fuck, I’m going to cum.” You go back to sucking and stroking his dick with one hand and massaging his balls with the other and he rolls his eyes in the back of his head. “Fuck, you’re a good at giving head.” He says. “Young ass eater.” He chuckles.
He starts fucking your throat. You start gagging at how rough he is getting with you, but it only motivates him to be rougher with your throat. He hits the back of your throat once and he starts nutting in your throat. You swallow it all. Eventually, he pulls out to see if you did. You smile and stick out your tongue. He smiles.
“Good girl.” He says. You stand up and he admires your wet body. He sucks on your neck and lowers to your nipples. He starts rubbing your clit and he smiles. “You want me to return the favor now or later.” You bite your lips, “Later. I need that dick.” You say.
He picks you up and slides you down his dick. You gasp and hang your mouth open, moaning a sweet note in his ear. He starts thrusting in and out of you. He proceeds to go faster and choke you a bit.
“You take this dick so good, baby girl.” He says groaning in your ear. “And your pussy is so fucking wet.” You whimper. “Ooh shit. You’re so deep. You’re so deep.” He smirks and goes harder. Your legs begin to shake. You’re on the verge of climax already. “Steph. Chill. I’m going to cum.” He chuckles, “Nah. Take it.” He says and goes harder. You try to grip the wall. “Mm, fuck daddy.”
He turns the shower off and heads back to the bench. The steam from the water was making it kind of hard to see. He lays you down with his dick still inside you. He pulls out and starts eating your creamy pussy. You start moaning and gripping the edges. His head game was vicious, it almost made you cum. Then he rams his dick back in roughly. You scream out. He chokes you.
“Chill the fuck out. You can’t be too loud, ma,” He says. You bite your lips. He begins to pound your shit in. “Ooh. Ooh Steph! I told you to chill. I’m going to cum.” He smacks your boobs and goes deeper. “Nah. Say my name.” He groans. “Oh daddy.” You say low. “Loud ma.” He says. “Fuck! Daddy! I’m coming.” You say louder. He chuckles and starts back pounding you. You let out a long moan before creaming his dick up. He looks down, “Yeah. That’s right. Paint this dick.” You cover your face as he starts going deeper. You try to push him away but he just pins your hands above your head.
Suddenly, he starts going faster and faster then you feel his warm liquid fill inside you. He groans in your ear as he does it. He pulls out and watches you leak out both of your juices. He looks down at you as you look at him. The two of you laugh at each other. You sigh and get up.
“Now, I got to shower.” You say and run to the shower. He joins you and you two just shower. You two get dressed and walk out to the parking garage together. He kisses you and rubs all over your body. He practically didn’t want to let go of you. You very slowly break the kiss and giggle. “Chill.” You smile. “You should come with me tonight.” He says. You think about it. You don’t mind but you would rather lay in your own bed tonight. “Nah. I’m going home. Maybe if you need me again, I can stay over.” He smiles, “Ight, lil ma.” You blush and get in your car and he gets in his. He honks his horn as a goodbye and you go to your house.
#itsbackwoodsbby#black fanfiction#celebrities#poc writer#smut#x black fem reader#black fanfic writer#stephen curry#basketball#sports#affair#age different relationships#18+ mdni#golden state warriors#hoopers#basketball players#wardell curry ii#hitting like that 30 on my jersery#niggas tryna shot they shoot stephen curry#splash brothers#30
92 notes
·
View notes
Text
Stay Away From My Son!
American Daniel Kaluuya X Black Fem Reader
Warning: Alcohol (Consumption of Alcohol)! Death (To my death anxiety girls, me too sis, had to pull through to write this.)! Depression! Drugs (Drug Dealing and Drug Usage)! Guns! Sex (Unprotected, be safe tho)! Violence!
Summary: You’re a single mother of two kids, Bryson, 17, and Brooklyn, 3. Brooklyn is a sweetheart. Not a tablet kid, always in her picture books, and lets you teach her stuff before she’s off to pre-k. Her troubled ass brother, Bryson, just wants to follow in his father’s footsteps and become a drug dealer to support the house. You try to tell him it’s okay and you can take care of it without him trying to help, especially in the way he is trying to go about it, but he just doesn’t listen. So now, you must do whatever it takes for Bryson to stay away from the local drug dealer, Daniel before he ends up dead like his daddy.
Sneak Peek: “What I got to do for you to stop fucking with my son?” You look at him with so much hatred. He looks at you and then laughs. “You going have to let me fuck before I let you take my biggest boy out of the game.” You look at him in disgust, “I’m not fucking your bummy ass, nigga!” You yell at him before you slap him. His boys roll up on you, but they fall back when he raises his hand. “Damn, you got a hand on you.” He says to you, “Maybe you should run with me.” You roll your eyes, “If I don’t want my son running with you, the hell makes you think I will do it. Stupid ass nigga.” You walk to your car. He calls out to you, “Feisty ass. You just need some dick. That’s all. It’s been three years since your man got killed? I know that pussy tight.” You flick him off and get your car.
“I love you, Bryson! Have a great day at school!” You say to your son, as you drop him off. “I love you too, mama. Love you, too, Brooklyn.” He kisses both you and Brooklyn’s cheeks and heads out of the car.
You wait for a while to see if he goes inside the building. Bryson has been skipping school a lot recently. You two got into an argument about it last night and he promises you that he won’t skip school anymore. You watch him go inside and wait 15 minutes to see if he comes back out. He doesn’t, so you go back home. You cook some breakfast for Brooklyn and yourself. You would have cooked for Bryson, but as usual, he woke up late as hell. You cook pancakes, sausage, and eggs. You cut Brooklyn’s food up and some fruit and put it on her plate in front of her. She smiles and begins eating. You fix your plate and you eat your food next to her. After you both finish eating, you clean up and go into her room to learn. You teach Brooklyn her colors, the days of the week, the months, and numbers 1-20. Then it’s back downstairs to watch Bluey on the TV. Around two hours later. your phone goes off. It’s Bryson’s school. You sigh and answer, “Good morning, Mrs. Wilson.” You say as you tap your fingers on the couch. “Yes, Ms. Y/L/N. I was calling to inform you that Bryson isn’t in school now. Did you know that?” You stay quiet for a moment before answering, “No I didn’t because I dropped him off this morning and waited to see if he would come out and he didn’t.” You start to get angry at your son and his damn school. Lock the damn doors when school starts, so kids can’t fucking skip. “Well, Ms. Y/L/N, he’s not here. And if he misses school again, you will be fined and sent to jail.”
You sigh and hang up the phone. You pick Brooklyn up and she whines. “Mommy, I want to watch Bluey.” You look at her, “I know, baby. We get to Bryson before he does something else stupid.” You sigh lock the house door and get Brooklyn in her seat.
You think you know where Bryson was. And sure enough, you are right. Bryson is on the porch with a few friends his age and some men you went to school with that also hung around your baby daddy before he died. From what you see, everyone is drinking including Bryson, and smoking the two blunts in rotation. You park your car and hop out. You can hear everyone saying “Oh shit!” when they saw it was you.
“Bryson! Get your monkey ass in that fucking car right now!” You yell at him. He looks at you angrily as if you are ruining his fun. “Boy, get your ass in that car right fucking now. I’m not fucking playing with you, Bryson. Get in there now!” He stands up and brushes your shoulder as he walks to the car. You turn back to him, “Oh, you have lost your damn mind.” You are about to grab him, but someone stops you. “Aye, chill off my young nigga forreal.” He tells you. You stand there and look at him.
Daniel aka Drako. The city’s biggest kingpin. Daniel doesn’t care about anyone or anything. As long he gets his money. He recruits kids young, so that is why your son hangs with him. If someone doesn’t have his money, he usually beats them daily, until they have it. They’ll have three months, once the time is up, they are dead in the weirdest fashion. One way, they are tied up by their feet and fatally beaten up and stabbed and carved with a “D” somewhere on their body.
You look at Daniel with your arms crossed. You examine him before you say what you say. You honestly aren’t scared of him, but you do have to live to see tomorrow because you are the only one to take care of Bryson and Brooklyn. He has one of his hands in his pants and smoking the blunt. His eyes are low and red, but they are stuck on you. He bites his lips at you, making you roll your eyes.
“What I got to do for you to stop fucking with my son?” You look at him with so much hatred. He looks at you and then laughs. “You going have to let me fuck before I let you take my biggest boy out of the game.” You look at him in disgust, “I’m not fucking your bummy ass, nigga!” You yell at him before you slap him. His boys roll up on you, but they fall back when he raises his hand. “Damn, you got a hand on you.” He says to you, “Maybe you should run with me.” You roll your eyes, “If I don’t want my son running with you, the hell makes you think I will do it. Stupid ass nigga.” You walk to your car. He calls out to you, “Feisty ass. You just need some dick. That’s all. It’s been three years since your man got killed? I know that pussy tight.” You flick him off and get your car.
As you drive to your house, your thoughts start beating you up. Are you a bad mother? You can’t even protect your son from the streets. You know he needed another male figure, but why did he go to the worst one EVER? You look at Bryson in the corner of your eye. He just stares at you, mad because you embarrassed him in front of his “friends.”
He stays quiet and once you park in the driveway, he rushes out of the car and goes in the house. You get out of the car and get Brooklyn out as well. She smiles at you and holds you tightly. As soon as you’re inside, you hear Bryson slam his door and play his music loud as hell. You sigh and put Brooklyn in her room to watch Bluey. You open Bryson’s door, take his phone, and turn his music off.
“You fucking tripping. Damn just get the fuck out of my room!” He yells at you. You look at him in disbelief. Did he just cuss at you? You put his stuff in your room and come back in his room and look at him, “Did you just cuss me?” You ask him. He doesn’t say anything back, but he gives you the “I sure did.” look. “Bryson, you have lost your fucking mind. Baby, let me tell you something, I am YOUR mom! You respect me!” He rolls his eyes and puffs, “Man, get the fuck out of my room. I don’t have to respect you.” He gets all in your face. You push him on his bed, “Look here, I don’t care what Daniel ass told you about not having to respect anyone but him. But you are going to respect me. I am YOUR mother. Ight.”
He just sits there and mugs you. You've never seen Bryson be this defiant. You sigh knowing you lost your baby boy. He isn’t the same boy he was when his dad was here. He isn’t the same boy he was when his dad died. He’s heartless and reckless. He is the boy who sells drugs, gets multiple pregnancy scares from girls, and now cusses and disrespects his mom.
You look at him and talk lowly, “Bryson, you don’t get it, don’t you? You don’t need to run with him or anything. We are good. Can you please for once listen to me? Stop doing this. Your little sister needs you. Bryson, I need you.” You tear up. “And if you don’t honestly give a fuck about me as your mom, cool I’m sorry for being a shitty mother, but do it for your little sister. Do it for your dad. You know he did everything in his power to stop from following in his footsteps. Yet here you are because I am a bad mother.” You sigh and look at him as the warm tears fall down your face.
His demeanor changes and he starts twisting his dreads. He hates seeing you cry. Right now, it may not look like it, but Bryson is a mama’s boy. That’s why he tries to help you so much by selling drugs. He hates how you stress yourself out to make ends meet, making sure your babies look the best for school. He hugs you tightly.
“Mama, I’m going to stop selling. I promise. I’m sorry for hurting you.” He says. “Bryson, you say that all the time. Just to break that promise again.” You sigh and walk out of his room.
You start wishing your boyfriend, Brandon, was still alive guiding Bryson how he was. You know he’s turning in his graving, watching how his son became what he didn’t want him to become. Brandon used to tell Bryson his jail stories, how he’s forever stuck in the streets, that Bryson can do better, and why he should never be in the streets like him. It’s a slap to the face. You sigh the more you think about Brandon and how he died almost three hours after his first daughter was born. He wanted a girl so bad. Now he’s missing her, not able to physically watch her grow up.
You trudge down the stairs slowly, get a bottle of Casamigos from the fridge, and examine the bottle. Bryson has been drinking some because you left more than this in here. Or have you been drinking a lot more recently? You sigh and start drinking straight out of the bottle as you lay your head on the table. Not only did you feel like a shitty mom, you also looked like a shitty mom drinking alcohol in the afternoon. Five minutes later, the bottle is empty. You trudge back upstairs, lie down, and close your eyes for a moment. You couldn’t sleep however because every time, you hear Bryson’s phone dinging. You sigh and get up to turn it off, but you look at the screen to see it’s Daniel blowing him up, asking Bryson to come back, so he can drop off a load. You go to the messages and text back, “yea ill b over there in seven.”
You shower up and get dressed in something cute and chill. You lock your room door, so Bryson won’t try and get his stuff from out there. You go into Brooklyn’s room and see that she fell asleep, as she was watching Bluey. You pick her up and lay her in her bed. Then, you go to Bryson's room. He’s lying in bed throwing his basketball in the air. He sees you and sighs. “Momma, I’m sorry. I’ll stop running in the streets.” You look at him, “I know.” You smile. You go to him and kiss his cheek. “I’ll be back. Watch your sister for me. Don’t leave the house either.”
He nods his head. You already know he’s not leaving because he doesn’t like leaving Brooklyn alone. You smile head to your car and drive off from your house. Seven minutes later, you’re parked across his house. His boys are on the porch with him, smoking and waiting for Bryson to come.
“Man, this little nigga ain’t coming, Daniel.” You hear one of them say. “Lil bro is probably getting pressed by his fine-ass momma.” Bryson’s friend, Dominic says, making the whole group laugh. You roll your eyes. Then Daniel huffs and puffs, “Fuck! Just go without him.”
His boys leave him on by himself. Daniel sits on the porch, smoking his blunt before he goes inside his house. You wait a few and then walk across the street and go up to the door. You knock on the door. He instantly opens it.
“Man, Bryson, what the fuck?! Why you lat-…” He’s caught off guard when he sees you. You push through him and come inside. “Yeah yeah. Now, Daniel. I’m going to ask you nicely. Stay the fuck away from my son. He doesn't need this life and you know that.” You say. He chuckles and sits down on the couch, “Nah, he’s really good, Y/N. This life is teaching him a lot. How to be a man. Brotherhood. He is doing good just like his dad used to do.” You look at him, “Yeah, until you set him up. Did you even tell Bryson you’re part of the reason his dad is dead?” Daniel starts yelling at you, “I had nothing to do with his death! And you know that! I love Brandon as if he was my blood.” He was mad as hell at your accusation. “Whatever, you say.” You cross your arms, not believing shit this nigga says. He sighs, “You know what? Here’s what happened that night. Brandon died because of Taylor. Okay? Taylor was jealous because of how close me and Brandon were. You know I knew Taylor before I knew Brandon. But I liked Brandon’s work ethic and his hustle. We clicked on so much shit from the past, that was my boy.” He says and he leans back in the chair, covering his eyes. “Taylor told Brandon I gave him a drop. I didn’t. I was sleeping. Taylor knew some of our opps were sliding on their other opps. He sent Brandon over there and that’s what happened.” He sighs, “I had no clue at all, Y/N. But I did handle it.” He looks at his hands. You gasp, “You killed Taylor?” He bites his lips, trying to fight back tears. “Yeah… yeah I did.”
You look at the pain in his eyes. You were shocked he killed Taylor for Brandon. Especially since Taylor was Daniel’s blood cousin. You sit next to him and hold him. He cries in your chest. There’s a lot of emotions that you have right now. You feel bad for accusing him of your boyfriend’s death for a very long time. You feel relief that you know what happened that night.
He sighs, “This is the only way I know I can pay Brandon back by being a male figure to Bryson. This is the only way I know how to do it. By showing him the ways of the streets. No one taught me the normal way of how to be a man. I was taught to be tough. Be a street nigga. Get a good name in these streets.” He says. “Bryson doesn’t need to be in the streets. And you are teaching him how to disrespect women. I don’t like it. I hear him talking to girls. Calling them bitches and shit.” He looks at you, “Nah, that’s them other niggas. I can’t disrespect women. I love my queens. Especially the black queens” You raise your eyebrows, “Oh yeah? Then what was that when I came and got him from you? ‘Feisty ass. You just need some dick. That’s all. It’s been three years since your man got killed? I know that pussy tight.’” You mock him, sounding goofy as hell. He laughs, “Just trying to look cool in front of the boys. I’m sorry about that.” He says. “But I promise, I don’t teach the young ones disrespect. That's Fredo.” He continues. “Well, who taught him to just fuck? And fuck raw at that! I swear to God every day it’s always, “Momma, I think I got a girl pregnant.” every time. Like what the hell?” He chuckles, “Okay, that’s me. I’ll admit that. I want to be able to feel it. Connection.” You roll your eyes, “There's a condom that feels like nothing you know.” He gives you a crazy-ass look, “That shit not the same and you know it.” You look at him, “No, I don’t. All the time that I had sex has been protected.” He looks at you, “So how the hell did Bryson and lil Brooklyn get here?” You laugh, “Condom broke.” He looks at you, “So you never had sex without a condom before.” He asks you and you shake your head no.
Something about that answer turns Daniel on. He tries to hide it, but you can tell. You look down and smile. You look back up and he’s staring at you biting his lip. You giggle. Daniel has always been attractive, but you let the negative things block it. Now that some things are clear and off the table you see his fine self peeking through.
“Control yourself.” You say. “It was just a fact.” He looks at you, “Man, I’m chilling. Just thinking.” He says, chuckling. “What’s on your mind?” He looks at you clueless, “Nothing.” You shake your head, laughing, “For real. What were you thinking about?” He sits up, “Me being the first person to fuck you raw.” You laugh, “I knew it. I haven’t done that in a while for real. And besides, wouldn’t it be wrong? You are the father of my children’s best friend.” You look down. As tempting as it is, you can’t help but feel like Brandon would be mad at you. “I think Brandon would want you to move on. I’m not saying that because I’m trying to fuck. But honestly, I do. I don’t think he would want you sitting here upset and lonely.” He lifts your chin and looks into your eyes. You smile, “He would want me to. He always talked about it. I always brushed it off thinking he was just talking normal nonsense.” You sigh.
You start thinking. You've been lonely for three years. Not to mention, you stopped having sex when you were pregnant with Brooklyn. So it’s almost been four years now without dick. And sex toys can only take you so far. What’s the harm in having sex with Daniel right now?
“You sure?” You say, needing some confirmation. “I’m sure, Y/N. But I don’t want you to be unsure, you know.” He says as he rubs your back.
His hand travels down to your waist and your thighs. He looks at you. His eyes ask for permission to go further up your body. You slowly nod your head yes. He starts rubbing your pussy through your shorts. Instantly, you lose your mind. This is what you’ve been missing. A touch. He takes your shorts off and pulls your panties to the side and looks at your pussy. It was glistening with your wetness already.
He kisses your neck as he slowly rubs your clit. Then, he lowers to your thighs, sucking on them, leaving marks on them. He looks at it one more time before he dives in face first and starts eating you out. You gasp and throw your head back on the arm of the chair. His tongue slides up and down on your clit. You grip his head with your other hand. He switches from licking to sucking on your clit. Your body lifts a bit, giving him a bit of an entrance to use his fingers. He teases your hole with his two middle fingers before he curls them inside you. You start gripping his head tighter. He resumes eating you out and you can’t wait to come for him. He looks up at you to see your beautiful love faces. He smiles and slides his free hand up your hoodie and rubs on your boobs and everywhere else on your body. Your breath starts to get heavier and heavier.
“Fuck! I’m about to come! I’m about to come!” You whimper out to him. He smiles and continues to pump you faster with his fingers as he sucks gently on your clit.
You jerk up as you have your first orgasm. Your juices were dripping from his hands to his forearm. You sit up on the couch and look at him. He smiles at you before picking you up and taking him to his bedroom. Your lips connect with his for the first time and it feels so amazing. His lips are super soft. He then attacks your neck with kisses and lays your body down softly on the bed. You take your hoodie off and he takes his sweats off. His dick is semi-hard. He gets in between your legs and starts rubbing his dick on your pussy to coat it with your wetness. He leans down and kisses your neck, making you moan even more.
No warning, you feel something slide inside, making you inhale sharply. He lets you adjust to his size since it’s been a while for you. He then kisses you all over your body to relax your mind and your body, which makes you adjust to his size much faster. He looks you in the eyes as he slowly strokes inside you. You cover your face. You couldn’t even look at him with how much pleasure he’s giving you. He removes your hands from your face and makes you look at him. His eyes are filled with lust and you know he wants to make this enjoyable for you. He starts picking up speed. He rips your tank top off your body to massage your breasts as he pushes himself deeper inside you.
“Shit, Daniel!” You grip the sheets and close your eyes. “Come on, open them pretty eyes and look at me.” He says as he places his hand below your belly button. Your eyes open as soon as the pressure overwhelms you. Your hands travel to his chest and lower to his stomach, “Daniel, please, it’s too much. It’s too much.” You whimper out. “I can’t take it.” You cry out. He looks into your eyes, “No, you can take it.” He smiles at you and kisses your neck. Slowly, you move your hand back on the bed, gripping the sheets again, “Mm, just like that, ma.” He groans, locking eyes with you.
You start clenching around him. “Oh…shit! I’m about to come.” You moan out. He smiles at you and shakes his head no. You look at him like he’s crazy. What does he mean by no? He smirks and starts pounding into you. “You can come when I tell you to.” Your eyes roll to the back of your head and your toes begin to curl. You keep begging but it only turns him on more, “Mm, you look so beautiful when you beg.” He starts, “You keep on, Ima make you hold it even longer.” You hold it to the best of your ability, clenching tighter and tighter around him. He starts to twitch inside you, “You want to come?” He asks you. You nod your head frantically, but that wasn’t good enough for Daniel, “Use your words, mamas.” You look at him, “Please, please. Let me cum, baby. Please let me cum.”He is a sucker for your begging. He smiles, “Nut on this dick.” He says low.
You jerk up as you climax and he fills you up with his cum. He buries his head in your neck and places sweet nibs and kisses. He was right. It is WAY different to have sex without a condom. Getting to feel every inch of that big dick sent you head over hills. Sadly, aftercare could not be done because you have to get back to your two kids that you left. Quickly, you two shower and get dressed again. Daniel only puts on some gray sweats. He walks you back to your car and opens the door for you. You get in and start the car as he closes the door. He hunches over and motions for you to let down the window. You do so and look at him.
“So, am I going to see you again?” He asks you, sliding his hands in his sweats. “Yeah. You will.” You smile back at him and look down at his print. “My eyes are up here.” He chuckles. “Sorry.” You look at him. “Just call me whenever you want to see me again.” You say. He nods at you and you wave bye to him. You grab pizza for you and the kids on the way home and you have a good time with your kids.
#itsbackwoodsbby#poc writer#celebrities#black fanfiction#smut#x black fem reader#black fanfic writer#black tumblr#short story#black writer#daniel kaluuya#daniel kaluuya x black fem reader#tw drugs#drug dealer#kids#daniel kaluuya x black fem reader smut#my dumbass forgot to tag it#black panther#judas and the black messiah#nope#queen and slim#get out
44 notes
·
View notes
Text
Laying Low
Drug Dealer Yahya x Black Fem Reader
Warning: Death! Drugs! Murder! Unprotected Sex!
Summary: You sell drugs with your boyfriend, Darnell, but you two constantly argue back and forth. One day, he tells you about how a man named Yahya is seeking revenge on you two for killing his cousin, Jayshawn, when you two were in high school. What happened next? Read it to find out.
Sneak Peek: This is the hardest part about working with Yahya. The sexual fucking tension between you two. Working with a fine black man as a beautiful ass black woman. There’s never a moment where he’s not discussing how you should just let a nigga fuck. And he’s a smooth talker. Even though you say you’ll never mix pleasure with business, it’s kinda hard to focus on that with your back pinned up against a wall, listening to a man begging to fuck you, as he feels on your body.
“Yahya… I told you. I’m not mixing business and pleasure no more.” You yelp out as he pops your thigh. “You gonna make me beg? C’mon, show me that body.” He says before kissing your neck, moving up to your jawline and to your ear to whisper, “That perfect ass body.” He smirks and pulls you closer to his body, thrusting his hips slowly into you, making you feel how hard you make him.
You about to lose it. Your biggest rule is almost out the window. You always knew he was just walking around with a big dick. Hell, he couldn’t have all these random bitches with a small one. But you remember he has a roster of women, which makes it easier to bring that moral back in and push Yahya away from you.
“Nah.” You smile and laugh. He sucks his teeth, “You gon’ let me fuck eventually. You know you want me like I want you.” You shake your head, “Nope.” You lie to him.
A/N: Okay, so this was a request ,but my dumbass deleted the ask with my chubby ass thumb. I know it was could I make a smut with this gif (not mines).
This is what I had in mind. I started this February 27th and finished March 18th. It was so much editing and revising to make sure that it was good for everyone. Hope you guys enjoy!!
Taglist:
@keeper0fhearts @dayiiidayana @becauseimswagman1 @yanalanettebby
If you want to be on my taglist, PLEASE ask me. My nerves will NOT let me just tag people.
Since you started talking, you have always been a peaceful and timid little girl. You minded your business and would never say anything even if it bothered you. You weren’t exactly bullied in school because of this, but you allowed people to walk all over you and use you until you met him.
When you were a freshman in high school, you met Darnell. He was a popular kid in high school, played basketball, and ran track. He started failing math and at first, he didn’t care, but they said he wasn’t going to play basketball if he didn’t get his shit together. He got it together by asking you to tutor him. You said yes and tutored him after practice even though you didn’t want to. You started developing your first crush on him, but something in the back of your mind told you it wouldn’t work out, so you decided to keep it quiet. Which was a good idea, because he would rather not be caught around you. You weren’t ugly, you just weren’t popular like him. You didn’t care.
One day, you got in your soft girl era and glowed up. You became that bitch and everyone wanted to be your friend. You either told everyone to keep the same energy they had when you were “nobody.” However, you couldn’t exactly do that for Darnell. Since you still liked him. “Damn, ma. It’s like that?” is all it took for you two to hang out. Eventually, you two got close, started dating, and he took your virginity. It wasn’t anything to write home about, but it rocked your junior body to a new level of maturity and confidence. You weren’t that timid little girl anymore. You were the popular boy’s girlfriend.
Around your senior year, he tore his ACL during a basketball game. It ruined all chances of him getting a scholarship in basketball or track. He started to wash cars at his uncle’s car shop to make some money and get his mind off his school athletics. It lasted for a while until his uncle got into a financial problem.
One day, you and Darnell decided to visit his uncle at the car shop. You two found him unconscious with his head busted open a bit and the majority of his teeth fell out. Once he woke up, he explained that he got his ass handed to him because he did business with a nigga named Jayshawn and that he only had two weeks to give him his money back. Darnell was pissed as hell. His uncle was special to him, damn near his favorite person. He raised him when his drunk-ass dad didn’t. So what did Darnell do? Darnell became a drug dealer to get the money fast. Just a few little sales and he was out of the game. He even recruited some of his friends to help him.
You always rode around with him. Like his little lap dog. He didn’t mind it. He always thought of it as you being his Bonnie.
It didn’t take long for Darnell to get Jayshawn’s money. You went to him when he gave the money to him. Jayshawn came by himself, unprotected because he underestimated Darnell. Of course, Jayshawn teased you. “Oh, is this your little girlfriend?”, “She’s pretty thick. How old is she? I can have a fun time with her.” are some of the creepy things the old head said. Darnell was pissed but your presence calmed him down somehow. But the deal didn’t go through as you thought it would. Jayshawn started talking about wanting to add interest because he waited so long for the money. Darnell was mad, asking Jayshawn what he needed to give him more money for, but he wouldn’t answer him, just giving him a cheeky answer that pushed Darnell to the unthinkable.
He pulled out a gun and let off three shots. Jayshawn fell straight to the ground, blood pouring out of his chest. You stood there, frozen. You had just seen your first homicide. Darnell looked at the lifeless body, picked up the money he made, and tapped your shoulder, constantly repeating your name, so you two could leave the scene.
When you two got in the car, it was quiet. Now and then, you’d side-eye Darnell. You were expecting shit to pop off, but not that. You two go to his uncle's house to explain what happened. He suggests that you two need to lay low for a while. You were confused about why you needed to lay low. You didn’t kill the nigga. You were a witness. Darnell’s uncle just tells you that if Jayshawn’s people see you they would probably hurt you because you are Darnell’s girlfriend.
During that time, you didn’t get to talk to your friends or your family. Your mom was worried sick about you. She blew your phone up asking where you were and how you better bring your ass back to her house now. You didn’t though. You and Darnell laid low for a month before you two showed your faces.
Your mom was pissed. She claimed she knew that Darnell killed Jayshawn, how she didn’t want you around all that, and how you were a sweet girl before you met Darnell. That shit went in one ear and out the other. You had definitely changed after seeing Jayshawn get whacked. You were distant. You became disobedient to your mom. You still hung out with Darnell and came home whenever you wanted to. But it all changed after you started helping Darnell in the streets. You were selling drugs and murking niggas. The anxiety feeling you got when you saw Jayshawn die was gone and a new thrilling feeling rolled over your body: being wealthy and having power.
Eventually, your mom got tired of your shit and kicked you out of her house. Mainly in fear of when your ass gets caught, her house wouldn’t be raided, looking for you or whatever drugs you had smuggled into her house. You moved in with Darnell who lives with his uncle after his mom kicked his ass out as well two months before. You finished school. You were an honored graduate. You didn’t let the streets stop you from getting your education. Darnell, however, dropped out because he was already successful.
Now, it has been seven years since you graduated high school. You wake up and shower to do your housewife duties. You go downstairs and take a stretch before you cook breakfast for you and Darnell and his uncle. As you finish, they roll out of bed and start coming downstairs to eat this delicious meal you have made.
Everyone fixes their plate and sits at the table. As soon as they have their first bite, they dig into the food like they haven’t eaten since last week. You roll your eyes, but inside, you’re proud of this delicious breakfast you cooked.
After their third serving of food, you wash the dishes that you messed up. Darnell comes up and smacks your ass.
“Damn, baby that food was delicious.” He says. Before you can answer, here comes his raggedy-ass uncle, putting in his two cents “Well, of course, the food is good. You gave her some dick last night. Had her screaming for dear mercy. Just how I taught you.”
You look at Darnell who just shrugs the situation off like it’s something completely normal. You roll your eyes and continue washing dishes. You put the dishes up and head upstairs to the bedroom. Here goes the toothless motherfucker once again.
“Yeah, boy. She wants some more. You see how she popping that ass upstairs.” He says, trying to dap up his nephew. You slam the door.
You can hear Darnell and his uncle semi-arguing. Not about protecting his girl and telling his uncle to stop saying shit like that. It was about his uncle ruining his chance of getting pussy. His uncle's last words before Darnell followed you upstairs were:
“Well, I live here too. Not my problem your girlfriend is loud as hell when y’all fuck in MY HOUSE.”
You roll your eyes and just look at Darnell. He sighs, “You know he done lost a few brain cells after that incident.” You mumble, “Nigga finna lose more than that if he don’t shut the hell up.”He chuckles at your remark and then starts kissing your neck. You push him away, “No. I’m not in the mood.” He tries again and you get up away from the bed. “I said no, nigga.” You semi-yell at him. He sighs and looks down at the bed then back at you, “You seriously going to let my uncle kill the vibe baby.”
You damn right. You might be horny for this boy’s dick, but you’ll be damned if you have to listen to his creepy-ass uncle make sexual comments about you. Sometimes, when it’s just you two alone, his uncle makes even more vulgar sexual advances, including trying to touch your ass.
Of course, Darnell gets mad you ain’t wetting his dick up. You sigh, “Baby, why can’t we just move out of here and get our own place?” You come back to him, sit on his lap, and wrap your arms around his neck. “That way, we can have sex more.” You look down at him and see him smiling at the idea and he wraps his arms around your waist tightly and grips your booty, “Maybe, even start a family, eventually.” You add, smiling with him.
You feel his embrace loosen up from you. You look at him. “Y/N, you know how I feel about kids.” He rolls his eyes and looks annoyed. You almost had him. “Come on, Darnell. We are not going to get any younger. We should start a family.” You put it out there. He just stays quiet, so you get off his lap and just look at him. “Uh, hello? I said something.”
He ignores you and then his phone goes off. You get a glance at it. India Dior. You roll your eyes and get off the bed. You two went to school with Miss. India. She was very popular. Mainly because she is pretty, rich, and she could dress. She didn’t have much of a personality. Just being a hoe. Now she’s an influencer. Showing her big ass house, that her dad brought her and just showing off her beauty on the internet.
If being an influencer stops working for her one day, the money won’t stop for her. Her dad would give her money. Her dad is a big drug dealer. He is somewhat of a motivation for Darnell. You couldn’t say anything bad about Robert Jackson around Darnell, or he’ll become the most dick-riding motherfucker.
You get really sick and tired of seeing India’s name on this nigga phone. He swears it’s so innocent and that she's just checking up on him or that he asked her dad for tips on how to run his business. You know it has to be a bit more than that. You were born at night, but not last night.
He sighs and looks at you, “You really not going to give me none tho?” He rubs your spot and you push his hand away, “No because your raggedy ass gum mouth ass uncle can’t mind his business and you can’t even tell him that shit is weird and uncomfortable and you just ignore me.” You roll your eyes. He huffs, “Man, whatever. Always trippin’ and shit. You need some dick. Maybe it will help your attitude.”
And that last sentence is what starts the fifth argument this week. And it’s just Tuesday. All ‘cause he’s mad you won’t give him no pussy. Well if he would meet you halfway on this and move out maybe you’ll give him pussy more.
You don’t even want to argue with Darnell. You love the man with every bone in your body, but you’re always putting your needs and wants on the back burner to make this nigga happy. Can he do the same for you? Hell naw.
“AYE! Y’ALL TWO SHUT THE FUCK UP!” Toothless screams from downstairs. “DAMN! PREFER YALL FUCKING THEN ALWAYS FUCKING ARUGING.” He yells some more.
You look at Darnell to see if he heard what his uncle said. He just shrugs and acts like it’s nothing. “I’m finna shower.” He brushes his way past you and grabs his stuff to shower.
You sigh and lay on the bed as he walks out. When he leaves, you let the tears out that you hid during the argument. Mentally, you’re so tired and your boyfriend doesn’t even care. Your quiet sobbing makes you even more tired, so you relax your body and sleep.
You wake up from your nap in a tight embrace a good hour later. You look up and see you’re lying on Darnell’s chest. You look up at him and he looks down at you and kisses your forehead.
“How did you sleep, baby?” He asks you. You look around, stretch a bit, and look back at him, “I slept okay.” You say and look away from him, remembering what happened before you took a nap. He sighs, “I’m sorry. You’re right. My uncle be out of pocket. It’s not cool what he does and says. I am your man and should be speaking out for you and telling him what he’s saying is wrong.” You smile a bit, happy he’s realizing his wrongs. “We can move out of here. Especially with everything that’s going on.”
He blows out some hot air and looks at you. You sit up, “What's going on?” He looks at you, “I don’t want to worry you. It’s Jayshawn’s cousin. He’s close to our age. He is coming for us.” Your eyes get wide, “Why? Like why is he now getting us?” He looks at you, “You know I killed Jayshawn while he was in jail. He's out now.” He continues, “I got an insider that said he is getting back in the game. He ain’t going to have anything like a gun or shit. So I was thinking we could kill two birds with one stone and maybe kill him and rob for his shit. That way we wouldn’t have to worry about that nigga no more.
You think about the plan. It’s risky as hell, but it’s worth it. When it comes to this lifestyle, you hate being a target. Besides it being dangerous, you’re also going to be stuck in a house with Gummy and Darnell when you have to lay low from cops and opps. You would rather not do that, so you have to risk it. But you are still questioning whether it was a good idea.
You sigh, “And that nigga will really be defenseless?” He looks at you, “Of course, he will be. He won’t be expecting anything.” You nod your head and smile, “Do you think we should bring the boys? Just in case shit gets rocky.” You add. He shakes his head, “Nah, baby. I told you he’s harmless right.” You look at him, “Okay.” He smiles and kisses your forehead, “Ight. We are going at night. My boy watched him. Said he usually leaves the trap house by himself.” You just nod your head and mentally prepare yourself for what’s about to come.
So around 11, you two go to Yahya’s new trap spot and creep inside. Darnell suggests that you two split up so that you two can find the valuables more easily. You agree with the idea and instantly regret it. Darnell starts being super loud. You two aren’t even in the same room, but you can hear breaking shit and heavy footsteps. Suddenly, it quiets down. You think Darnell has found the valuables he needs and now he’s off to kill Yahya. But instead, you hear a voice call out.
“Who the fuck is there?” The voice asks.
You hide behind boxes with some product in them and look around to see this Yahya. He is very muscular and tall. You bite your lips at him, but then you get yourself back into focus.
Suddenly, something knocks a box down, giving away your cover. Yahya rushes to you, pins you against a wall, and puts a knife to your neck.
“Who the hell are you?!” He says, almost shouting at you as he looks you up and down. You don’t say anything, just look up at the ceiling.
Your silence makes Yahya mad. You don’t care. Especially when you see Darnell creeping past the door. You start to grin, thinking your man is about to save you and shoot Yahya. But he doesn’t. He smiles and waves at you, sneaks out the door, and leaves you there. Your grin drops.
You should have known that something was up when you woke up from that nap. He was being too damn nice and HE apologized. Darnell never apologizes, even when he knows he’s wrong. Your heart shatters in a million pieces. You can’t believe this shit! Your first love really set you up.
Yahya pushes the knife a bit deeper. “I said who the fuck are you?” He repeats himself, louder to make sure you can hear him. Your sadness turns to anger quickly, “You should know, fuck nigga. You wanted to kill me for killing your cousin.” You say as you roll your eyes. He looks at you, “What are you talking about?” You look at him confused, “You wanted to kill me and Darnell. Over your cousin … Jayshawn.” He looks at you and laughs, “Ion care about no damn Jayshawn. I didn’t fuck with him. Blood or not. Besides, he died from being a dumbass.” He laughs some more and drops you on the floor. “Should have strapped up, careless ass nigga.”
You sigh, feeling like a damn fool. You stand up and brush yourself off. This shit is so embarrassing.
“So tell me for real, why you here?” He questions you and you tell him the short version of the story, “My boyfriend told me that you wanted to kill us because you wanted revenge for your cousin.” He chuckles, “Sounds like your lil boyfriend just wanted your ass gone.” His chuckle becomes a hard laugh. You roll your eyes, “Well, not to rain on your parade, but he stole some of your product and your money while he was here.” He shrugs, “I can make that money back easily. And that product he stole ain’t shit. Mid at best. I’m looking for a new supplier anyway.” You just mug him, “Good the fuck for you.” He laughs, “Don’t be mad at me. Be mad at your nigga or whatever for setting you up.” You shake your head, “Yeah yeah. Whatever.”
You don’t even fight to win the petty ass argument with him. You’re so heartbroken and honestly where the fuck has arguing got you, anyways. Heartbroken and homeless. You sigh and start walking away.
“Aye! Aye!” He calls out. “Work with me.” He says. You turn around, “What?” You walk back to him. “Work with me.” He says, licking his lips at you. “What makes you think I can run the game for real? You see I just got set up. You saw how I was just finna give up and let you kill me.” You list your reasons. He just smiles at you, “I wouldn’t have known where you were if the box didn’t fall. That nigga was the only reason you got caught. Possibly threw this over here.” He says as he picks up a rock.
You stand there, contemplating. Should you work with Yahya? You don’t know him. He could eventually do the same thing as Darnell did to you. You don’t know why he even went to jail. You look at him as he puts his hand out. He gets you when he says:
“We can get revenge on Darnell if you would like that.” You smile and shake his hand, “Glad to do business with you.” He laughs.
While working with Yahya, your life got way better. You’re well-respected in the streets. Everyone knows that fuck with you, they fuck with Yahya and that’s not something they want to do.
You’re closer with your mom and you two speak every day. She doesn’t like that you’re still in the game, but she loves your new partner because he doesn’t have you doing crazy things. Another plus for her, you both spoil her, so it’s a win-win for her.
After sleeping in the trap house for a while, you finally had enough to buy your first house and a little extra to decorate how you wanted. It was nice to not have to clean every damn day after two grown-ass men. It was relaxing to be able to walk around the house butt-ass naked finally.
You decided from then on, that you’d never mix your pleasure with your street business ever again.
Working with Yahya also means random bitches always interfere with work. They pop up at the trap house, trying to be under him and watch you as IF you want him. You don’t know how many times you had to tell these bitches off because they try to say something about you being too close to him or they’re even going to take your spot and be the only woman in his life. You reassure these bitches, they’re definitely not the only ones.
And don’t even forget about trying to work when Yahya is horny. If his phone dings and it’s one of his bitches, meeting over with. He will rush to drop some dick off in them. Or he gives her a quickie in the trap house and you are just stuck there listening for what feels like an eternity.
Currently, you are sitting in the trap house, listening to Yahya crack this girl in the other room. It’s so aggravating. Today is product day. Yahya gives you and the rest of the team some products and you guys move it. You take this opportunity to talk to Yahya about this plan you had. You two were in the middle of talking about your revenge on Darnell's greasy ass and then Miss. Brittani delulu decides to pop up so she can get her daily dose of dick.
When they return, Yahya buckles up his pants as she fixes her little sundress and her haYou roll your eyes in disgust. Yahya stands there, cupping her ass, telling her that he’ll see her again, and how he’ll be thinking about that pussy. You roll your eyes and scoff. It’s the same thing he tells all the others. Brittani looks over at you and she starts mugging you.
“You’re just jealous that he wants me and not your street rat ass.” She says to you. You look at Yahya, “Please, kick her out so we can work. Please.” You look back down at your phone, trying to spare her. “Bitch, you don’t rush me. You’re nothing. I’m a goddess. He loves me.” You sigh and look at her, “Sweetheart, you’re just another body on his list, let alone you’re the fifth bitch that fucked him in the bathroom this week. Please… tread the fuck lightly.” Brittani looks at Yahya and storms off. He chuckles at you as he sits down in his chair, “Damn, Y/N. You going to leave a nigga with no bitches.” You shrug, “She’ll be back. You know she’s delusional for your ass.” You look back at your phone.
“So, why you so impatient today?” Yahya asks you. You roll your eyes, “Again, I want to get Darnell back now since he has to lay low. He just robbed that boy, Stacy, so Darnell will be off the radar at his uncle's house. It’s an easy job. We can’t fuck up.” Yahya looks at you, “What about his uncle?” You lean back, “It’s Tuesday and his gummy bear uncle goes out, getting shitty drunk, playing bingo.”He laughs, “You always talk shit about that man uncle.” You roll your eyes, “Cause he’s mad weird.”
You two discuss the plan with no interruption at all. The plan is wonderfully crafted. Yahya couldn’t do anything but compliment your smarts. Then you two stand up together and you adjust your shorts that have found their way up your thigh. You look up Yahya. Finally, you notice that he is staring hard as hell at you.
“What, nigga?” You laugh. Yahya chuckles and walks closer to you. “You know you be looking good as hell to me.” He says. You roll your eyes, “Didn’t you just fuck your daily bop of the day?” You laugh at his desperation to fuck. “Don’t even worry about all that for real.” He pulls you close and grips your ass, “I want you now, so what is up?”
This is the hardest part about working with Yahya. The sexual fucking tension between you two. Working with a fine black man as a beautiful ass black woman. There’s never a moment where he’s not discussing how you should just let a nigga fuck. And he’s a smooth talker. Even though you say you’ll never mix pleasure with business, it’s kinda hard to focus on that with your back pinned up against a wall, listening to a man begging to fuck you, as he feels on your body.
“Yahya… I told you. I’m not mixing business and pleasure no more.” You yelp out as he pops your thigh. “You gonna make me beg? C’mon, show me that body.” He says before kissing your neck, moving up to your jawline and to your ear to whisper, “That perfect ass body.” He smirks and pulls you closer to his body, thrusting his hips slowly into you, making you feel how hard you make him.
You about to lose it. Your biggest rule is almost out the window. You always knew he was just walking around with a big dick. Hell, he couldn’t have all these random bitches with a small one. But you remember he has a roster of women, which makes it easier to bring that moral back in and push Yahya away from you.
“Nah.” You smile and laugh. He sucks his teeth, “You gon’ let me fuck eventually. You know you want me like I want you.” You shake your head, “Nope.” You lie to him.
He chuckles. Reading right through your lie. But he lets you go freely. Knowing that you’re going to give in eventually. You grab your bag and put it on your arm. You distribute the product you had and go home to relax for the rest of the day until it is time to put the plan in motion.
Around midnight, you swing by to get Yahya for the mission. He comes out of his house dressed similarly to you. You both had on all black. You drive to the abandoned parking lot that’s not that far from Darnell’s location.
You look at Yahya, “Are you ready?” He looks at you, “I should be asking you. You have chemistry with this nigga.” You raise your eyebrow, “No. Had. And the chemistry was one-sided. I loved him. He loved that I was a housewife, always gave him pussy ‘til his uncle started being creepy, and helped him do his job.”
You roll your eyes. The months you’ve been single made you realize a lot of things that were absolutely wrong with that relationship. Darnell LET his uncle say sexual things to you. He never protected you from it. Just act like it was nothing serious. The relationship was always 100/0. You never got anything in the relationship, yet you always had to please him and put up with his shit. Love just blinded you from seeing the unhealthy things of that relationship.
You two get out and creep down the alleyway, making sure to get caught. Once you get there, you two see an unfamiliar white car in the driveway.
“Thought you said he’d be home alone?” He asks you. “I mean, I thought so. That’s not his uncle's car.” You shrug and slide your foot through the opened window. “Aye, Y/N, what you doing?” He whispers to you. You just look at him, “I am going inside. Not letting this stop me.” Yahya chuckles, “You just want him gone, huh?” You look at Yahya, “Duh.”
You go inside and soon after Yahya follows you inside. The house has definitely seen better days. The house had a mildew smell. You can see in the dim kitchen that the sink was full of dirty dishes. Two trash bags were on the floor, while the one in the bin was filled to the brim. There was trash everywhere in the house. It was kind of hard to walk slowly without stepping on it.
You two creep upstairs and start hearing noises. You lean on the wall and Yahya leans next to you. You look at him and in the dark, you can see his eyes telling you to peek inside before you go in. You look inside and your skin starts to boil. This nigga is giving backshots to that bitch India. And you know it’s her because her flower-tatted ass. You turn your head to Yahya.
“It’s just my replacement.” You whisper to him. “So we good?” He asks you. You nod, “Yeah. Definitely good.”
You wait for a minute and then you burst into the room with Yahya. Darnell pulls out and lays on the bed and India covers her body up, crying begging for mercy.
“Bitch, shut the fuck up!” You say. You raise your gun to Darnell, “Hey baby. You missed me?” You give him a wicked smile.
Darnell starts stuttering your name out as you get closer to him, begging for you not to kill him, but you do anyway. India starts crying and screaming. Once she’s over the initial shock, she pushes you and tries to run out of the room. Yahya blocks her way hovers over her and points the gun at her.
“No witnesses, lil mama.” He says in a husky muffled voice. It honestly sends shivers down your spine, but once you hear the gunshot ring, you are back to reality.
You look down and see the lifeless bodies. The end of Darnell and India’s stories. You two creep out the backdoor since it’s the quickest way back to the alleyway. So many thoughts run through your mind. It feels so good to get revenge. Not just for him setting you up, but just for being a horrible boyfriend to you. You didn’t deserve all that shit.
You two slip into your car and you ride off to Yahya’s house to drop him off. It was quiet. Mainly cause you’re still in your head. On the one hand, you’re happy as hell. But on the other hand, you couldn’t help the remorseful feeling you had. You killed someone’s son, someone’s best friend, someone’s favorite person, and even though you hated his ass, someone’s nephew. And even though you didn’t care for India, you killed someone’s daughter. And not just someone’s, Robert Jackson’s daughter.
Your stomach begins to get queasy. Your hands start shaking on the wheel. You try to think about something else so you won’t be so tense while driving. You start thinking about what you will do while staying off the radar. Maybe learn a new hobby or maybe get back into writing.
At a red light, you look over at Yahya. You see he’s just been eyeing you. He wasn’t checking you out, he was trying to figure out what’s on your mind. You smile at him, hoping he can’t read that you’re starting to feel guilty.
“So what are you going to do while you keep a low profile?” You ask him. He looks at you, “Low profile? Why do I need to lay low?” You look at him, “You just killed a drug dealer’s daughter. A big drug dealer at that, Yahya.” He looks at you, “And? What does that mean to me?” You look at him, “You know he is going to send his boys on you?” He leans back in his seat, “Yeah, but who’s really going to be stupid enough to kill me?” He says, all arrogant and you roll your eyes, which makes him laugh, “Nah, all serious though. I like to walk around with a target on my chest every day. If niggas see me, they just see me. Nine times outta ten, they not gon’ do shit.”
You look at him like he’s a crazy man, “Well, I am.” You say as you resume driving. “I hate being a target. And I am definitely one now.” You sigh, “I just hate that now I have to do it by myself.” He looks at you, “I’ll spend it with you.” He starts, “Well, if you don’t mind.” You smile, “Yeah. If you don’t mind not fucking your hoes for a while.” He chuckles, “I have self-control.”
You two laugh, knowing damn well that he doesn’t have self-control. He’s a horny dog. You were curious though on why he would want to lay with you, knowing you won’t let him fuck any random women in your home. Knowing that you won’t even let him fuck you.
“So why you want to spend it with me?” You ask him. He breathes in before talking, “To protect you, let you feel safe about this, so you won’t be in your head the whole time and spooking yourself. So you won’t be alone.” He touches your shoulder.
You smile, almost shed a tear. It feels good to know someone is willing to protect you during this time. You arrive at Yahya’s house and park on the curb. You wait as he packs his things. A few minutes later, he moves his car into the garage and walks back to your car. He throws his bag in the back and gets in. You drive to your place and drive your car in your garage. He gets his bag and you two head inside.
As you get inside, you tell Yahya that you are about to hop in the shower and sleep afterward and you tell him where the guest room is. You go into your room, strip down, and head to your bathroom. You shower, making sure you get squeaky clean. After your shower, you get dressed in an oversized shirt. No bra and panties. You relax your body on your bed and close your eyes.
…
…
…
You couldn’t sleep. Every time you close your eyes, you see Darnell’s body. You didn’t understand. You killed people before, why is Darnell’s death fucking with you? You sigh and get out of your bed. Slowly, you walk to the guest room and lightly tap on the door. Yahya opens the door and leans on the doorframe. His tall muscular body hovers over you. He was wearing basketball shorts and a gray tank top.
“Can I come in?” You ask him. He shakes his head yes and moves out of the way for you. He lays back down and pats the bed, “Come on, lay down.” You smile and lie down next to him. He puts the blanket on you and wraps his arm around you. “It’s going to be okay, Y/N. I got you.”
As the days went by, you had a lot of fun with Yahya. You two play card games and watch movies. He even helps you learn a new hobby, drawing and painting. Yahya was still leaving to handle things at the trap house. When he comes back, you have a hot meal waiting for him.
You learn more about each other. Yahya always wanted to be an architect, but because he went to jail for armed robbery. Since he was 17, he got charged as an adult, but he got a minimum of ten years since he was young and he didn’t have much involvement in it. Eight years later, he got out early for good behavior, even though he was far from being good in jail. Since he couldn’t get a job as an architect, he turned back to what he knew. The streets.
Your dreams for your future job have always changed. You wanted to be a singer, but you didn’t like the idea of singing in front of millions of people. You wanted to be a writer, but you think your writings are ass and not tasteful for anyone, but yourself. You wanted to do hair, but you met Darnell, so then you decided to just be a basketball player’s wife. That took a turn and you became a drug dealer’s toy and followed him in the streets and did dirty jobs with him.
Yahya is at the trap house today. He told you that he was going to be back a little late. You decide to clean around the house and do some laundry. You finish that and Yahya still wasn’t here. So you go to your office and you write some ideas for your next story. Yahya still wasn’t here. You decide to cook dinner and he finally comes to the house. It’s like he knows when you’re done cooking.
“Sorry, I am late. Moni ran into some problems. Had to help her.” He walks to the kitchen and wash his hands. You look at him, examining the fact that he has blood on his shirt. You clear your throat and point to the stain. He looks at it, “Oh shit! I didn’t know that was there.” You laugh, “Well, is Moni okay?” He shakes his head, “Yeah, just shaken up. Some guys tried to rob her as she was walking out.” He takes off the blood-stained button-up shirt.
You try not to, but you replay the way he unbuttoned it. Slowly revealing his abs. He takes the shirt off, showing those muscular arms that you wish could wrap around your body. Wishing that for a few moments, you weren’t so hellbent on not mixing business with pleasure.
“Go shower, so you can eat.” You tell him. He chuckles, “Yes, ma’am. I will, mama.” He walks upstairs.
You lean on the counter. You know he meant it in a teasing way, but it still did something for you in between your thighs. He was undeniably fine. He is your type of man. He walks around with facial expressions of confidence and besides Robert, he’s the second feared man in the city, which makes you even more wetter thinking when you catch yourself thinking of him.
He comes downstairs in a white tee and grey sweats. You two fix your plates and eat at the dinner table. He compliments your cooking as usual. You try to wash the dishes, but he tells you to go sit down. You don’t argue with him. You sit down and start reading some of your works.
“What are you reading?” Yahya says a few minutes later. He sits down next to you as You close the binder quickly. “Uh… nothing.” You smile. “C’mon, tell me.” He says and you just shake your head.
He looks at you a while before grabbing the blue binder and opening it. You try to take it back, but he moves it away from you. You sigh and laugh at his childish ass. He opens it and examines it at first.
“You wrote this?” He raises his eyebrow at you. You look down, “Uh, yeah.” He chuckles, “This is nice.” He smiles at you.
He starts to read your story out loud. His husky voice was soothing and helped bring the characters together in your head. Then he gets to the sexual parts, and his voice is giving you the best eargasm, as well as bringing you close to an orgasm.
Your thighs rub against each other. Then, you feel his hand raise from your leg to your thighs. Your eyes meet his and you stare for a while before he kisses you. You didn’t even hesitate to kiss him back. He pulls you on top of him and grips your waist tightly. Then, he stops and moves you away from him.
“I'm sorry. I know you said that you're not mixing business and pleasure.” He says and looks at you. You just look at him, feeling hazy. The kiss was intoxicating. You had to do it again.
You damn near jump in his lap and kiss him. He is shocked, but he pulls your body close to his as he kisses you back. You lay back on the couch and he is in between your legs. He pins your wrists, together, and kisses your neck. He goes up your jawline and tugs your ear.
“So you going to give me that pussy now?” He whispers in your ear. He thrust himself onto you. Your eyes roll back to your, “Fuck Yahya. Yes.” You cooed out to him.
He smiles and picks you up to take you to your bedroom. So many thoughts were running through your head. You felt his dick brushing against your shorts. His dick is too big. Will he even fit? You were nervous, but you needed to feel him deep inside of you.
Your thoughts are interrupted as your back touches your dresser. Your shirt, shorts, and underwear go flying everywhere in your room. He walks back a bit and admires your body. You couldn’t help but smile and look down.
“No. Look at me.” He says. You look at him. Your smile was bright enough to white the room. “Damn, you’re so beautiful.” He walks back to you, kisses you, and lowers down to your neck. “Your body is so perfect.” His breath tickles your neck.
He massages your left breast and sucks on the right. Your body shivers and gets covered in goosebumps. He rubs your body, lowers down to kiss your stomach, and spreads your legs apart. He looks at your sticky wet mess in between your legs. He practically starts drooling over it.
You giggle and snap your fingers, “Sir, are you okay?’ He chuckles, “Yeah, yeah. My bad.” He says as he pushes your back against the mirror behind you and rubs your slit. Your body hitches up, “Oh fuck!” He lowers down and dips his tongue inside for a taste and he couldn’t get enough.
He starts eating you out and you bite your moan in. He pops your thigh. “Let me hear you, mamas.” Your mouth hangs up and you moan. He smiles and flicks your clit as he adds a finger in. You grip his head and push him deeper into your pussy. “Shit, baby. Don’t stop. Don’t stop.” His fingers curve, making you cry out.
He nibs and bites on your clit, adding another finger, and you lose your mind. You grip the sheets and look down at him as you start riding his face, feeling your body get closer to your climax. He looks up at you and pulls your body closer to him so he can devour your pussy more. Your body jerks up and you let out a sudden scream as you let go of your orgasm.
You catch your breath and look down at him, pulling him up to kiss him so you can taste yourself on his lips. He slips his tongue in your mouth and explores around. He scoops you off the dresser and lays you on your silk-covered bed without breaking the kiss. You hear his pants unzip and the ruffling of his pants and boxers going down to the floor. You feel his dick glide on your clit. He eases his tip inside you. You gasp and jerk your body.
“No, no! It’s too big.” You try to stop him. He kisses your neck, “It’s okay. It’s okay, mamas.” He wipes your tears away. “I got you.” He kisses your cheek. You breathe and try to relax as the initial stingy sensation washes over your body. He eases the rest of himself inside you and holds himself right there. “You can move.” You tell him, once you get a bit used to him.
He doesn’t move. Instead, he looks into your eyes, with a smirk, “Beg for it.” He gives you a deep slow stroke, making your eyes widen “Oh shit.” You drag the moan out of your mouth.
You knew why he wanted you to beg. Because you held out on giving him pussy for months. You’re not the type to beg, never begged in your life. But over this dick, you had to. “Yahya, please. Please fuck me.” You whimper as his strokes get slower and slower. With a cheeky smile, he drives his dick inside you at a rapid pace. This is what you wanted. This is what you need.
He pins your feet behind your head, getting deeper into your stomach. He is where you need his dick to be. Pleasure begins filling your body up. It’s too much. You push him away a bit, “Yahya, wait… it’s too much.” He pins your wrists to your ankles, putting more pressure on your stomach, “Nah, take it. You keep this wet ass pussy away from me.” He groans before slamming inside you.
You close your eyes and whine out. You wish you would have never held back from getting fucked by him if you knew he was this good at fucking. He lets your hands go and comes down tongue-kiss you. You wrap your hands around his neck. He starts going faster, hitting your spot over and over again.
You gasp and break the kiss, “Fuck! Fuck! Right there, right there.” You beg him to keep hitting that spot. “That’s what you want? You want me to make that pussy come for me.” He groans, looking down at you.
You’re a broken record, whimpering the word yes over and over. He smiles and kisses your neck. You convulse around his dick as you're getting closer to your climax again. Your body arches up as you cum. Yahya’s strokes begin getting sloppy, making a squelch sound. He floods his nut inside you. He rests his head on your neck and catches his breath.
He gets up off you and stands up to examine your exhausted body. You lift your head to look at him. He smiles and looks at you with a smirk. “If you think I can go again, you’re a madman.” You laugh and lay your head back on your bed. “Nah, I just want you to clean this dick up.” His smirk grows.
You laugh and look at him. His dick was still hard. You had to show the fuck out when giving this man head. For fucking you like that, you wanted to place him on a high throne for blessing you with good dick like that. You get on your knees and you place his dick in your mouth. You bob your head up and down.
He throws his head back, “Shit.” He grips your head and starts fucking your mouth. He goes faster, making his dick hit the back of your throat. “Shit mamas. You tryna make me cum again. I just clean it.”
You pop his dick out your mouth and spit on it to get it wet. As your saliva drips to his balls, you catch it and start sucking on his balls. Your hand starts stroking his thick shaft fast. You start tasting his precum, giggling. “Nut for me, daddy.”
You come back up and suck his dick again, faster this time. His body starts shivering as he looks down at you. “You are crazy.” He groans as his dick begins to twitch in your mouth. A second later, he starts coming into your mouth. You swallow and look at him.
He falls back on the bed and face palms. “Shit! That was amazing.” You lay on his chest, “Yes it was.” You giggle and kiss his glistening sweaty chest. “Should have let me do that sooner.” He says before kissing your forehead. You yawn,
“Yeah. I definitely should have.”
You are happy you threw that rule out of the way. Because you just got the best dick your pussy has ever had. But you couldn’t help but think how it would affect your relationship and your work with Yahya or if would it affect it at all. You shrug, putting off as a problem future you would have to deal with. Besides, you’re not going to let your thoughts ruin your high from the amazing sex you just had.
You two lay in bed talking for a bit, until you hear light snores coming from Yahya. You laugh quietly, kiss his cheek, and go to sleep.
#itsbackwoodsbby#poc writer#x black fem reader#black fanfic writer#black fanfiction#smut#black writer#celebrities#black tumblr#yahya abdul mateen ii smut#yahya abdul mateen ii#yahya abdul mateen ii x black fem reader#tw drugs#drug dealer yahya#aquaman#black manta
36 notes
·
View notes
Text
Black Love
Symbols: angst: ✺| fluffy: ☁︎| smut: ✿|
Not all of my work is 18+. But the work that is 18+, MDNI! Please and thank you.
I got the rappers, the singers, the actors, the influencers, the streamers, the athletes. WE GOT IT ALL! And YES I do take requests.
𓆩♡𓆪 Brent Faiyaz
☁︎ Nightime- Your daughter can’t sleep because she misses her daddy, who is back doing tours after your daughter’s arrival. This makes you wonder is this the right time to have another kid with Christopher.
𓆩♡𓆪 Daniel Kaluuya
✺|✿ Stay Away From My Son- You’re a single mother of two kids, Bryson, 17, and Brooklyn, 3. Brooklyn is a sweetheart. Not a tablet kid, always in her picture books, and lets you teach her stuff before she’s off to pre-k. Her troubled ass brother, Bryson, just wants to follow in his father’s footsteps and become a drug dealer to support the house. You try to tell him it’s okay and you can take care of it without him trying to help, especially in the way he is trying to go about it, but he just doesn’t listen. So now, you must do whatever it takes for Bryson to stay away from the local drug dealer, Daniel before he ends up dead like his daddy.
𓆩♡𓆪 Lashana Lynch
✺|✿ Formerly Known As Yours- Lashana is your ex. You two dated for five years and broke up three minutes before your sixth year anniversary because you caught her cheating on you. A few weeks later, you see she’s with the girl who she cheated on you with. You were hurt at the fact she didn’t even trying to get you back, she just got with her. There was a party coming up and you had to get your groove back or see if you got it.
𓆩♡𓆪 Stephen Curry
✿ Locker Room Sex- You were messaging Steph Curry for a while and then eventually he ghosts you. You were desperately in need to talk to him. For reasons. For answers, on what exactly is going on. You sneak in the Golden State locker room and you definitely get more than answers.
𓆩♡𓆪 Trevante Rhodes
✿ His Favorite- Trevante's favorite stripper is out of work for a while and has no one as a replacement. You decide that you want to be his favorite. Not just for the night. His forever replacement.
𓆩♡𓆪 Yahya Abdul Mateen II
✿ Yahya: The Musical-
ICU- Yahya and you used to be together, until you both realized that you were better off as friends. You start dating again and none of the guys are really for you. a lonely night in your apartment makes you realize that Yahya might be one.
O M W- As soon as you knew Yahya was done with the gym, you texted him that you needed that dick. He gets ready and gives you exactly what you want.
✺|☁︎|✿ Laying Low- You sell drugs with your boyfriend, Darnell, but you two constantly argue back and forth. One day, he tells you about how a man named Yahya is seeking revenge on you two for killing his cousin, Jayshawn, when you two were in high school. What happened next? Read it to find out.
#itsbackwoodsbby#celebrities#poc writer#black fanfiction#smut#x black fem reader#black fanfic writer#short story#black tumblr#black writer#black love masterlist#masterlist#request#itsbackwoodssbby masterlist
28 notes
·
View notes
Text
NightTime
Brent Faiyaz x Black Fem Reader
Summary: Your daughter can’t sleep because she misses her daddy, who is back doing tours after your daughter’s arrival. This makes you wonder is this the right time to have another kid with Christopher.
it’s 3am and you’re up listening to a lofi radio on youtube as you’re finishing up some schoolwork that’s due earlier that night. you normally would do it in morning, but you’re going to be so busy today. you want to take your daughter out on a girls’ day out to get her mind off of her dad. you understand her because you miss your boyfriend so much. he barely has any time to respond back to your text and calls.
as you’re closing up your laptop, you hear baby footsteps walking slowly towards your room. you rush to put the blanket over your head.
“mommy?” your whining toddler comes in your room, rubbing her wet eyes. “when is daddy coming back?”
you try to ignore her by pretending you’re sleep, but your quietness makes her upset, she cries again. you sigh and pick her up.
“isabella, your dad won’t back until next month.” you say to her. “can i call him?” she says, trying to find a little hope. “isa, its 3am. he’s probably sleep.” you say.
you feel a few teardrops on your arm, as her sniffles fill the room. you look at her. her face is very red and covered with tears. you grab your phone and you scroll through your contacts until you see the contact that said “cw 💍” and you hit it.
it rings for a couple minutes and then he answers. “hey baby.” he says. “hey bae.” you say. then isabella hops in the camera, with only her right eye and her matching bonnet with you, “hey daddy!” she yells. he smiles, “hey baby girl.” he says to her, laughing a little over her excitement.
you turn on the light and set the camera up to where everyone can be seen.
“has my baby been crying?” he says. she nods her head yes. “why you been crying baby girl?” he asks her. “i miss you daddy.” she says biting her finger. “aw i miss you too sweetie.” he says back to her. “why can’t you come home now?” she coos at him. “i’m busy on tour, but i’ll be home next month baby. i promise when i’m home, we can do whatever you want to princess.” he says to her. she smiles at him, “okay daddy.”
they talk for a few and then he looks at the time. “should daddy sing you to sleep? it’s late. you should be be sleep.” he says. she yawns, “i’m not tired.” she says, as her pretty brown eyes slowly start closing. he starts singing her a llubaby and she’s off to sleep.
you pick her up and place her back in her room. you come back to your room and you see chris eating a piece of chicken. you take a picture of him.
“come on y/n.” he laughs. “i’m sorry.” you let out a cute giggle. “i really just couldn’t help myself.” he smiles, “god, i miss you guys so much.” you smile back, “i miss you too chris.” he looks at you, admiring your beauty for a moment, “you were doing some schoolwork, baby?” he ask. you were smiling really hard, “yeah. i finished up before lil mama came in the room.” you say as you take off your glasses and get comfortable in bed again.
you love how observant chris is. he notices the little things. how you only wear your glasses at night to do school. it’s silly and small, but it shows he knows you and he cares.
you two are silence for a couple moments until finally you break it. “chris… i think we should hold off on trying.” you say quickly hoping he didn’t understand you. but he did and he looks at you, hurt. “why? this is the perfect time y/n.” you inhale and exhale, “it’s just… i hate seeing isabella sad like this because you’re gone. how am i supposed to handle isa and a newborn baby?” you say.
he’s quiet for a moment, “y/n, i want this. i’ll take you guys on tour with me.” you look at him, “what about baby appointment? who’s going to watch them during your shows? after the shows? what about substances? you know your tours have weed and alcohol everywhere. we agreed to keep that stuff away from our kids until they were older enough to understand.” you starts listing all the cons of going on tour with him. “only way, i could get what i want is if i stop touring.” you see that made him even more hurt. “y/n… i don’t want to stop touring. this tour has made me realize how bad i miss it. i don’t want to stop now.”
you feel bad for making him choose between tour or another child, so you try to cheer him up. “baby, i’m sorry, but think of it like this. everything good sometimes takes time. maybe soon, we’ll have a little cj running around here.” he smiles, “i love that idea baby.”
so you fall asleep on the phone. eventually chris wakes you up and tells you he’s getting ready to go and he has to hang up. you pout about it but he reassures you that he’ll call back later after your girls’ day with isabella. you two hang up and you go right back to sleep.
around 11, you’re waking up to isabella jumping on the bed. you smile. she hasn’t did that in a while. you get up get both of y’all ready for the day and then you two leave the house. the girls’ day activities were: getting breakfast, getting the nails down (which y’all got matching colors of light blue), going to trampoline park, going to the movies, and going on a target run.
you get more dolls for isabella and … a pregnancy test. of recent, you been waking up very nauseous and you’ve been getting tired more than usual and not to mention… you’re late on your period… but not too late, but you’re still worried.
you go home and open isa’s dolls and she runs straight to her room and plays with her doll house. you go to the bathroom and take the pregnancy test. you wash you hands, feed you and your baby, and start getting her ready for bed. you do everything but look at the damn stick.
y/n, everything is fine. you’re overthinking. you’re not pregnant.
you’ve been repeating this to yourself for a while as you bathe isa. you dry her off and get her in the pink onesies. then you shower yourself and get ready for bed. she chills in the room with you, waiting for the phone to ring so she can talk to her daddy. you go to test. you look at the results. you had no time to think about it and react, because chris calls.
“mommy! hurry! daddy’s calling!” she rushes you. you run out the bathroom and answer the phone.
the phone call went the same as usual. he talked to isabella and then she fell asleep. faster this time because of the fun she had. you’ve been quiet the whole time. he looks at you.
“y/n, are you okay? you haven’t been talk?” he says, making you tear up randomly. you weren’t sad. it’s just now all the emotions hit you at once. “chris, i’m pregnant.”
_______________________
maybe a part two 👀
#brent faiyaz#poc writer#short story#brent faiyaz short story#black writer#fanfic#wasteland#sonder#nuwo#itsbackwoodsbby#larger than life#black fanfic writer#black fanfiction#black oc#tour#pregnancy#kids#x black fem reader#brent faiyaz x black fem reader
50 notes
·
View notes
Text
I NEED HELP!!!
So I’m writing this story and I like how it’s going so far. And as I’m just writing, it hits me. I DON’T KNOW WHAT MAN I AM WRITING FOR! Like … what man is about to dick our lovely black fem reader down?
Soooo … if I show what I got so far, will y’all help me out? Please? Pretty please?
5 notes
·
View notes
Text
Navigation
[] offline| [] online| [○] thuggin & writin|
ꨄ about me ꨄ
ꨄ about my writings ꨄ
ꨄ my masterlists' list ꨄ
ꨄ SOTD ꨄ (coming soon)
7 notes
·
View notes
Text
about my writings:
mainly, i write ___ x black fem reader.
i mainly write smut, but i do also write fluffy and angst. i know if i have a series that eventually gets to smut, i will probably write an alternative without the smut. but please, MDNI with my smut writing.
i usually will just carefree write and share it to the world. usually like, Brent Faiyaz, Yahya, Michael B, Letitia, etc etc.
i do take requests as well, just tell me everything that you want and i will try my best to deliver.
possibly, i will not never proofread my works.
i will edit A LOT of my works ... maayyybeee.
symbols: angst: ✺| fluffy: ☁︎| smut: ✿|
#about my writing#smut#poc writer#itsbackwoodsbby#black fanfic writer#x black fem reader#black fanfiction#short story
7 notes
·
View notes
Text
I’m almost done with my focking masterlists. I just want to thank @keeper0fhearts for my avi pictures. I love you so much sis 💕
4 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
arvensimp
arven mi armor
clcland
crystal clear
jongesongsonge
yiff
fuck-off-drama
MCMXCIV
mycreativeawkwardlife-blog1
I should be outside