#I love my hood nigga | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jiminscockr1ng · 2 months

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✩｡°𝄞🚨D-TOWN BABY 𝄞✨°｡✩

╝ •part one | part two ╔

╰₊𓂂➢ pairing: gang affiliated!yoongi x fem!reader

╰₊𓂂➢ genre: hood au, bother’s best friend au, smut, angst

╰₊𓂂➢ warn!ngs: use of the n-word, aave, [mentions of drugs, drug dealing, death, smoking and drinking], negligence due to use of drugs (reader’s mother), reader is heavily black coded, cat-calling, riding, oral (reader receiving), swallowing semen. (let me know if there’s more please!)

╰₊𓂂➢ summary: yoongi is apart of a gang called d-town, the gang your brother just so happens to be apart of.

╰₊𓂂➢ word count: 5,625 words

╰₊𓂂➢ author’s note: the inspiration came from me shouting “D-TOWN NIGGA!” at my sister while watching the Daechwita music video. lmao, i hope y’all enjoy it.

The headlights of your black honda civic shines on the group of men huddled together on the steps of the project building.

Smoking, drinking, talking and laughing loud as hell, and hitting licks.

You huff while turning your car off. Stepping out, your long, fern green skirt flows with the wind. Cleavage hanging out of your bohemian patterned shirt. As you approach the ran down project building you can hear the men on the stairs whistling at you.

You roll your eyes at the gang members who are shouting and cat-calling loud as hell— the whole block could hear.

“Damn Ma, can I get a 360?!” One of them call out. Before you could even flip him off, two familiar voices chime in.

“Chill, nigga.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

They say at the same time. The two voices could easily be distinguished as Trey (your brother) and Yoongi (your brother’s best friend).

Or their street names: Tre D and Agust D. The ‘D’ standing for D-Town. To which you find corny as hell because you all literally live downtown. All these corny ass niggas’ names end with D.

Once you’re right in front of the group of men your brother nods his head at you. That’s just him acknowledging your existence. The two of you have a complicated relationship. It’s only complicated because you don’t like his lifestyle (respectfully) but he won’t stop gang banging.

Nonetheless, you’d still take a bullet for that man. Vice versa.

“Yo, _______.” Yoongi speaks. From the looks of it, you can already tell he’s about to say some stupid shit. He has that sorry ass smirk on his face and keeps glancing around at his little posse. Leaning your weight on to one leg, you simply arch your brow at him.

“You gon’ let me tuck you in?” Your stoic expression remains the same. A few giggles are heard and your brother shakes his head. Trey is more than used to Yoongi making advances at you— he’s been fiend out for damn there 8 years.

Yoongi looks you up and down, adjusting his duffel bag on his shoulder. You smack your teeth and harshly brush past the men blocking your way up the stairs. Prior to entering the building you yell back at the long haired, pale man.

“Tuck your dick!”

SLAM! You slam the door shut, you can hear the distant instigating behind the door as you walk up the stairs to the shared apartment. Mumbling curse words on your way up.

Yoongi’s smirk never leaves, despite the instigation his crew nagged on about. He likes that shit. He loves it. Your hot temper and all of it. He knows that if he wanted to he could shut you right up. But you being mad at him kind of turns him on… so he’ll let you have it.

You’d prefer a nice and quiet, empty pathway to your home when you get off from work. You go through enough stress as it is. Another headache is exactly not what you needed.

Stepping foot into the dark apartment, you set your purse down and walk to your room, ready to get in the shower after a long day. The apartment is fairly big compared to the other units. More than enough space for you and your brother. Although, for the past year it’s really just been you occupying the space.

Trey is never home. He’s out and about being Tre D. He stopped coming home about a little over a year ago. It’s just gang related activities after the other, selling drugs, hanging out with D-Town and fucking random girls. Repeat.

It’s reasonable that you gave up on trying to stop him. He’s a grown man now and you can’t sit around all day to inspect your little brother’s everyday life to make sure he’s doing ‘the right thing’. He’s only 2 years younger than you but you always acted as a mother figure. Taking over that role after your mother got sprung out on crack and left you both.

Working your ass off everyday, feeding him and yourself, trying to make sure he’s doing well in school— all a waste of time. Now look. He’s outside of your shared apartment, probably not even going to come up stairs and is making way more money than you.

You regret the day he met those guys. And you regret even more when he dragged Yoongi along with him.

The thought of Yoongi makes you sigh. You pick up your towel to get in the shower, blasting Lauryn Hill as you lather your brown skin with smell-good soap. You manage to decompress in the shower. Tracking wet footprints to your bedroom as you approach the window, you look outside to see if they’re still there.

Yes. Yes they are. Your brother seems to be leaving and you can’t help but notice someone is missing from the gang.

And almost on queue— as if the devil himself set it up… you hear the front door opening. Letting out a groan, you go and peak out of your bedroom door.

“No need to hide, babygirl. Come on out.” Yoongi calls.

You roll your eyes before slamming your door. But like you figured, the door opens right back up and in comes Yoongi. He silently stands in front of the door after he closes it behind him, observing your figure that is semi-hidden behind the white towel you have on. Yoongi already has a little stiffy just by looking at you.

“Stop calling me babygirl you freak, I’m older than you.” You say, responding to the comment he made. He chuckles, walking over to sit on your bed while you apply lotion on your legs. He drops his duffel bag on the ground next to him.

“Yeah, by like a few months.” Looking down at him, you noticed that he’s man spreading, leaning on his arms that are propped up behind him on the bed. Refraining from gulping, you look away.

You don’t respond to him. Instead, you continue on with your nightly routine, pretending that the fine man is not sitting on your bed ready to pounce on you the second you say go. You can hear shuffling behind you as you fix your locs, putting them in the ponytail.

“_______, I got you something.” He says and you reluctantly turn around. This man really doesn’t learn or care to catch a hint. In his hand is a book. A book that you’ve been searching for everywhere and is sold out.

“How…” is all you can mutter out. Out of all of Yoongi’s highly prestigious and unusual gifts he attempts to give you, this has got to be the best one yet. Best, because you actually wanted it. Not that that Birkin Bag was easy to donate— that was a struggle.

“Uh— I saw you were looking for this shit everywhere on your spam.” You furrow your eyebrows.

“Why the hell are you on my spam page?!”

“So I had drove damn there 2 fucking hours to get this shit.” He says, ignoring the previous question.

You love it. You want to snatch the book out of his long slender fingers, throw your bonnet on and start reading immediately. But—

“I can’t take that Yoongi.” The sentence isn’t something that he hasn’t heard before. You tell him every single time he comes up to your apartment trying to hand you something he bought for you. You never take shit from him and if you do, it gets donated almost immediately.

He scoffs. Honestly looking a little pissed off— fed up to be exact. “What do you mean you can’t take it? Didn’t you hear me, _______?” He stands up, book still in hand. “I drove 2 hours for a fucking book!” He exclaims.

It’s not like you’re meaning to be a bitch. You’d just rather not take anything that was bought with drug money. Even the book you’ve been dying to read for months.

“Listen Yoongi—”

“Agust D.” He corrects.

“I’m not calling you that shit!” A smile cracks onto his face. Just a small one. Because, as mentioned before, he loves that shit. But he’s still fed up.

“I can’t take that. It’ll be donated just like the other gifts you attempt to bribe me with.” You say and he sets the book on the bed, stepping closer to you. “I’m not bribing you _______. I just wanna spoil you, just let me do that.”

“No! I don’t want anything you or my brother buy with your fucking D-Town money. You can keep all of that shit!” You roar while waving your arms around. He sighs, running his fingers through his long black hair, letting it fall back in place. “Money is money, _______.”

“I’m not doing this with you, Yoongi.” Arguing with him back and forth is like arguing with a wall. You two could go on and on about the lifestyle he and Trey are choosing to live.

Yoongi walks up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. You don’t pull away. Despite how stubborn you are, you’d never deny Yoongi’s touch whenever you feel him. It’s instant stress relief.

“I’m trying, _______.” He calmly says in your ear. The disembodied voice— so husky yet smooth. It sends shivers down your back and all of the hair on your arms stand tall.

“Try harder then.”

“Why are you like this?” You scrunch your face up. “Like what?!” You can feel him shrug his shoulders behind you.

“Like… stubborn and petty.” Offended, you scoff.

“Stubborn and petty like your mama?” It was a quick little insult— a joke! Everyone says it. Plus, you had to think of a come back quick or else you know Yoongi would’ve known that you knew what he said was partially accurate. But when you feel the tight hold Yoongi had around your waist loosen… you knew you fucked up.

“You know my moms’ is dead.” You immediately twist your body around to face him, your towel nearly unraveling. You quickly catch it. “Omg, I did not mean it like that, for real. I was just saying shit!” You ramble on and on about how you don’t think before speaking and how sorry you are.

Then he laughs. Like actually laugh. Not a corny little smirk or the low chuckle he does when he’s around his boys— not even a light smile. He gave you his infamous, gummy smile, shoulder bouncing laugh. He even threw his head back for a second.

You really couldn’t help but smile. You missed that laugh. Having been reunited with it after so long makes you forget everything said and done. Because that’s the Yoongi you know, the Yoongi you grew up with, the Yoongi you loved. You smile at the taller man still looking at you with that cute gummy smile even after the laughter died down.

“Stop apologizing _______, I was just fucking with you.” You scoff but the smile never fades, even when you playfully punch his shoulder. “That’s not funny!” He nods his head in agreement as if he wasn’t just literally laughing his ass off.

“It was just funny seeing you speak like that. First time in mad long you didn’t have that stick that you love so much up your ass.” Looking up at him, you can’t even be mad at what he just said. Not when all the old feelings were suddenly rushing back in. The ones you fought off years ago.

“Yeah,” you switch your focus onto the ground. “It was nice seeing you laugh like that.” His fingers lightly grip your chin to lift your head back up to look him in the eyes. Your heart is doing backflips but in your head there are a million different alarms going off, screaming ‘abort!’.

“You always make me laugh. Whether I’m laughing around you or at home in my bed, laughing about something that you said. You make me…” He trails off making you furrow your eyebrows a bit.

“Make you what?” He sighs, scratching the back of his head, looking out of the window. You shove his shoulder to get his attention again. “Make you what?!” He looks down at his shoes as if the answer was written on them. They weren’t. You checked.

“You make me… hmmph.” He mumbles and you slap your hands on your naked thighs in frustration. You grip his face in your whole hand to get him to stop looking around the room helplessly, like a mother trying to force feed their child.

“What!” You scream.

“Happy!” He reciprocates the volume, eyes going wide when he finally lets the shit flow free. Your hand slowly drops from his face. “Damn— satisfied?” He sassily asks, rolling his eyes. Too in shock to even say anything, you just stand there with your eyebrows high, looking like a dumbass.

“_______,” he starts, earning you attention. So many thoughts sprint through your mind as you stare up into his sharp brown eyes. It’s really hard to believe that after everything, he still found happiness in you. You can’t recall the last time you felt happy in Yoongi’s presence. The man that you once loved. You and Yoongi never dated, never slept together, never really announced any feelings for each other either. The relationship the two of you had was unspoken. You knew the love was there— he did too, and that was enough.

“I need you to know, that I want you.” He says seriously. Your heart drops at the words. No.

No, not now. Why now?

“I want us, _______.” You could melt underneath his gaze. You feel yourself slowly folding. Ready to submit and give into him— give into your heart that’s been begging to be his for 7 years now. “Tell me you want this too.”

Yes, tell him you want this. Want all of him. Because you do… but you can’t. It’s not the same. This is not the same as it was 7 years ago. Yoongi isn’t the same. You can’t do it.

“I can’t— I don’t… want this.” You try to stand strong but you’re weak. Yoongi always did that to you. “You don’t or you can’t— which one is it?” He says, already knowing the answer. He needs to hear it from you though. You sigh, closing your eyes. “Yoongi—”

“No _______ tell me right now why you can’t just let us be happy?” Yoongi’s frustration is valid. But so is yours. You try to walk away from him, to get away, like those alarms that kept going off in your head a few minutes ago told you to do. But Yoongi isn’t having it. He already laid his heart out there, he just wanted you to take it— for it to be yours. So he grabs your arm. “Don’t walk away from me.” You yank your arm back immediately.

“I fucking can’t Yoongi! You want me to stand here, laugh, ‘kee-kee’ in your face. Tell you I want you and that I want this just for you to go back to the streets the next second someone calls you.” You’re out of breath from all of the screaming, no doubt the neighbors were gonna report. But you aren’t done.

“D-Town tells you to jump, you ask how high. I ask you to get your life together, to get off of the streets and I’m left with the same answer. I’m not gonna be one of those bitches that hold you down when you decide to get into some dumb shit and I’m damn sure not gonna be the person people have to get in touch with because their fucking boyfriend died doing some fuck shit.” The undertone of your face is red and your hands are shaking. “It’s bad enough my brother is in to deep. I’m not trying to have to worry about someone else.”

Yoongi’s tongue pokes the inside of his cheek as he takes in everything you said. You’ve never been this vulnerable. With anyone. You’ve never said any of this to anyone but you don’t want to keep having the same interactions over and over with him.

“I understand.” Is all he says. And it’s all he has to say. You know he’s not gonna quit the streets until the streets quit him. After all, that’s how it works. But he really did understand and if that’s how you feel he won’t push it.

“Can I just lay with you?” Before you can even protest he raises his hands to clarify. “Just for tonight. Can you please… just do this for me? Let me lay with you.” You sigh, over analyzing the possibility. In the end you conclude it was fine. So you grab your pajamas and change in the bathroom. When you come back in, Yoongi is already laying in the bed. Shirtless and wearing nothing else but the pair of basketball shorts he had in his bag. The book resting on your nightstand.

Your pajamas includes a sage green tank top and a beige pair of cotton shorts. You lie next to him in your bed after cutting the lights off. His body instantly cuddles into yours.

“Yoongi,” you call out. “Your head is on my boobs.” He chuckles into the pair before raising his head to look at you. “You used to always let me lay on your boobs. They’re comfortable.” He says with a faint pout, poking your plushy boobs with his finger, making you flinch.

“Yoo— will you stop poking me!” You say frustratedly. “It tickles.” Yoongi perks up at that. “It tickles, huh?” He sings, continuing to poke you. His fingers pokes at your chest, your sides, your neck. You try to fight him off but your laughter is making you weak. “Stu— stop!” You cry out and he just giggles at your plea. It’s really over once he hovers his body over yours, locking yours in place underneath him.

Your face hurts from laughing so hard, can’t even manage to fight it anymore. The poking eventually stops but the soft giggles and toothy smile on your face doesn’t falter. Yoongi’s eyes sparkle as they bore into yours. He carefully places his hand on your cheek, thumb caressing your lifted cheekbone.

“You’re so pretty, _______.” He observes your features from above and his heart pounds against his chest. The pace aligned with yours. “Sometimes,” he nuzzles his head into the crook of your neck. “I forget just how pretty you are. So I come to bother you— just to see you. But when I have you this close… you make me want to leave everything else behind just so I can be with you.”

That’s all you really wanted. For Yoongi to leave all the bullshit alone. Maybe then you two could work.

But you know that all of this is just pillow talk. Yoongi would never do that. Not for you. Not for anyone. “Don’t say things you don’t mean, Yoongi.” You speak mellowly. He lifts his head out of your neck to look at you again. “I can’t tell you how I feel now?” You roll your eyes. “You can but don’t sit here and lead me on to believing in a lie.”

He doesn’t respond. You feel his lips on your cheek. Eyes widening, you look at him in confusion. “What are you—”

“I’m not lying to you, _______.” He kisses your forehead. “Even with everything that happened, no matter what you say to me— I never told you a lie and I don’t plan to.” He leans in to give you another kiss but pauses. His face just an inch away. Your breath hitches at the close proximity, growing nervous when his eyes focus on your lips.

“Can I kiss you?” He whispers softly against your lips. Your mind isn’t working. There’s no alarms blaring, no weird gut feeling, just you. Underneath him. Without much thought, you mutter a breathy “yes.”

He leans in, his lips molding perfectly with yours. It’s soft and passionate and you’re worried that you just might have a heart attack the way your heart is pacing. Your fingers travel their way through his long strands of hair as you happily taste the minty flavor of his mouth— covering up the taste of cigarettes. When he pulls away to catch his breath, you immediately pull him back down. Now that you got a taste of him, you don’t want to let it go.

The kiss starts getting heated when Yoongi rolls off of you and pulls you on top of him. His hands roam the surface of your back, letting them slip under your tank top. You bite on his bottom lip once you pull away, letting your soft brown hands travel up his abdomen to his solid chest. Your back arches as you leave open mouth kisses against his chest. He takes the opportunity to cup your ass into his hands, occasionally squeezing the fleshy rump.

You slightly shift your hips up against him to lift up. “Fuck,” Yoongi lets out a shaky breath. “Don’t move like that.” You furrow your brows in confusion but you quickly understand when you feel something poking your thigh. In shock, you shift again. A low groan leaves Yoongi’s mouth and he places his hands on both sides of your waist.

You watch as his eyes squeeze shut, the action and the sound he let slip gave you that tingling feeling in your stomach, that familiar sensation fluttering in between your legs. You do it again. Wanting to hear that sound from him again.

“Seriously, you don’t want this to go further than it already has.” True. You don’t, but you’re a little too lust filled to think straight. And the fact that Yoongi is hard as a rock underneath you has you wet. Grinding your clothed sex onto his bulge.

“Yo, I—”

“Shut up.” You say, placing your hands on his chest to support yourself as you grind against him. The lewd sounds that escape from both of your mouths flood the room. Yoongi’s basketball shorts get bunched up in the process, the repeated action dragging the band down, exposing his boxer briefs underneath.

You lift your hips up to pull the shorts down but Yoongi stops you. He sends you a warning look that reads, ‘don’t do this.’

Regardless, you enthusiastically yank them and his boxer briefs down his thighs, letting his dick stand tall against his lower stomach. “_______, you’re confusing me.” He says while you’re busy scrapping to get the clothing from around his ankles, satisfied when they hit the floor. You turn around, looking down at him once again.

“You’re confused? Hm, I thought you were hard.” Speaking sarcastically, you turn your focus onto Yoongi’s member. You grip his length in your hand, brushing your thumb over his sensitive tip making Yoongi twitch.

“A little bit of both honestly. I mean, mostly hard but— woah woah woah, stop!” Yoongi panics once you put your mouth on his dick. He immediately sits up, his back resting against the head board. “I’m not doing this with you.” He says, to which one of your eyebrows flick up.

“Why not?” You scoff. “You don’t seem to have any problem fucking all these other bitches.” Yoongi lets out an unamused laugh, wiping his hands over his face. “You’re not other bitches. You don’t throw yourself on my dick.”

“I just did!” Technically, you did.

Yoongi scoffs, mumbling something under his breath. “It’s not the same thing. You’re invested in this _______ and you know it.” You turn your head away from him, not wanting to hear the truth. “I don’t need you to have another reason to hate me.” Rolling your eyes—

“I don’t hate you.”

“You’re just saying that.” You shake your head, scooting closer to him. “I’m not. I don’t hate you, Yoongi.” You repeat, your fingers go to his hair and you focus on the way his dark hair fall on your skin before looking at him again. “And right now… I’m horny, so.” You sit in front of him, anticipating his response.

“Okay.” He shrugs.

“Okay, what?” He grabs your waist gently, pulling you closer to him. Your lips lock onto his again and this time, the pace quickens. Yoongi’s hands reach for your tank top to pull it over your chest, you lift your arms as he pulls it off, slinging it across the room. Like clockwork, you drag your shorts down as well, tossing them in the corner without a care in the world.

Yoongi’s hands roam all over your body. Taking in the feel of your body being close to his. He retracts from the kiss to drool over your body. His pale hands over your brown skin, the only source of light coming from the window. “What do you want me to do, _______?” He asks, palming your breast in both hands. You bite your lip as you look down at him touching you.

“Can I ride you?” You ask in a whisper and you could’ve swore you felt Yoongi’s dick twitch on your thigh right after the words fell off your tongue. He felt like doing a backflip. An ability he doesn’t have but that’s how you make him feel. It’s just like you to want to ride him— it being your first time even having sex with each other.

“Fuck yes.” You let out a giggle at Yoongi’s expression before leaning over to open the top drawer of your nightstand. His eyes travel with your every movement. “What are you doing?”

“Grabbing a condom.” You popped out. He purses his lips at that. “Guess I’m not the only one you’ve been wrestling in the sheets with.” Looking back at the man with the condom in your hand, the jealous look on his face makes you want to run over to your phone to take a picture. Instead you laugh.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” You say, ripping open the packet. “I bought them because they’re a necessity. I’m not fucking anyone— but i’m glad I did buy them.” Yoongi raises an eyebrow in curiosity. “I’d rather not have the neighborhood’s dick in me raw.”

It’s almost comedic the way his jaw drop. “Neighborhood’s dick is cuh-razy!” Slipping the condom on his length, you let out a giggle. Once you’ve got it on all the way you grip his shoulders, lifting your cunt over it. “It’s okay,” you jokingly reassure. “I’ll make sure to give you a good rating.”

“Oh, you got jokes— oh shit.” His demeanor changes once you rub his tip against your wet slit. “Are you—,” He reaches out to drag a finger through your folds. “You’re mad wet.” He states the obvious and when he pulls his finger away, your arousal drags with it. Without a second thought, he lifts his finger to his mouth, sucking on it to taste you. A low moan leaves his mouth. His eyes never leaving yours.

“You ready or did you change your mind?” You shake your head slowly, feeling more aroused than ever. “I’m ready.”

Once again, you maneuver his length through your folds before aligning it at your entrance. You take a deep breath and Yoongi’s hands rub your back. You slowly lower yourself down his length, feeling the pressure of him stretching you out. Your mouth falls agape when his full length is inside of your cunt.

After a few more rounds you get used to it. Yoongi stares at the action of your pussy swallowing his length. Your pussy is so tight around him, he’s afraid he might cum too fast.

He curse in your ear as you begin to ride him faster. “Fuck— you’ve been holding back on me for all these years.” Yoongi moves his hips, helping thrust into you. Your tits jump along with you as you bounce on his cock. So deep, the sound of his balls slapping against your ass echoes throughout the quiet apartment.

“Ah, Yoongi!” You moan out and Yoongi feels himself growing light headed. “You’re making me go crazy, _______.” He slams into your pussy faster— harder. At this point you weren’t even moving. Yoongi was the one in control of your body.

Especially when he moves you off of him, switching positions to take full control. You lie on your back, abandoned pussy and all. “Yoongi, put it back in.” You beg.

He shushes you before bending down, face in between your legs. His mouth attacks your wet cunt. He flatten his tongue to fully taste your sex. Licking and sucking all of you. His mouth sucks on your clit making you scream out in pleasure while his three fingers abuse your hole. “Yoongi, fuck that feels so good.” He slightly smirks up at you.

“Tell me whose pussy this is.” He says lowly. You could’ve came right then and there just from how sexy he said it. All dominant and territorial. The way he looks— his long dark hair sticking to his face and neck.

“Yuh— oh my god!” You moan out as your legs begin to shake at the overwhelming stimulation of his mouth and fingers.

“Tell me.” He demanded a bit louder.

“Yours Yoongi! It all yours, mm.” His fingers moves faster and you grip the sheets for moral support. “F- Fuck me Yoongi. I want your dick inside me.” It doesn’t take long before he obeys. He lifts up, just before you could orgasm and slides his hard dick inside of you. With Yoongi in control now, the pace is much faster. He lifts one of your legs up, putting it over his shoulder for better access.

Going deeper inside of you, hitting all of the right spots. You pull him down towards your body, your nails digging into his back, creating little crescent moon shaped marks. Chest to chest, Yoongi penetrates your pussy as the two of you share a feverish kiss.

“I’m gonna cum, Yoongi.” You say against his lips, out of breath. He rapidly nods his head. “Cum, mm.” His thrusts slow down, instead he makes sure to go deeper, hitting your spot repeatedly, making your legs shake around him. “Cum for me, _______.”

A few thrusts later and you cream on his dick. He pulls out, slips off the condom and starts stroking his dick. You place your hands over his, moving your mouth towards his tip. When the long drags of warm semen pour out you catch every drop of it. Mouth wide open, tongue out— you swallow his cum. Licking the tip afterwards for good measure.

Yoongi’s heavy breathing fills the room as he collapses on the bed. You get up to throw the used condom out and to collect your pajamas off the floor, walking with a bit of a limp. You toss Yoongi his basketball shorts before cleaning yourself up in the bathroom and changing.

When you come back, you find Yoongi already in his basketball shorts lying on the bed still. “Not gonna dip?” You ask, trying to sound nonchalant. You don’t want him to go but you don’t need him to know that. You were just awfully vulnerable and something similar to regret is already creeping up on you.

“Naw, why would I?” You shrug before laying in bed next to him. Not even being able to position yourself, he makes sure he cuddles into you, your face close as hell to his. “So how was the neighborhood’s dick?” He jokingly asks, laughing after. You lightly punch his chest.

“I’m not finna play with you Yoongi.” Yoongi serves you a feigned pout. “Awe, you regretting it already?” You don’t say anything because you really don’t know if you are. You don’t regret the sex because— fuck that was amazing. Best dick you ever had and you really will give him a good rating. However, the things that were said could’ve stayed unsaid. You shared too much vulnerability and that’s not something you’re comfortable with. The last thing you need is Yoongi to throw any of that shit back up in your face.

“I don’t regret it.” You conclude. His arms wrap around your waist tighter, grabbing one of your legs to wrap it around him. “But it won’t happen again. This was a one time thing.”

“But you swallowed my cum.” He pouts again and for some reason you don’t think it’s feigned this time. So you lightly smack his lips. Too much of a distraction.

“Because I didn’t want to get my covers dirty, you freak.” He dramatically raises his eyebrows. “So now I’m back to being a freak.” You sigh because it seems like he’s purposely not paying attention to what you’re actually trying to say.

“Yoongi.” You say seriously making him nod his head. “Okay, I got it. it was a one time thing.” Despite his display of understanding, you can’t help but hear the underlying disappointment in his voice.

You lay in his arms for hours. Neither of you fall asleep, replaying the previous events in your head. You debate with yourself whether or not you’re being in denial, too petty, stubborn, unreasonable. Whether or not you should give Yoongi a chance. Because right now you feel safe. Right now, everything is okay while your head rests against his beating chest. Right now…

“AGUST D GET YO’ ASS DOWN HERE NIGGA!”

You jump. You and Yoongi both lift up— your face of shock is a bit different from his. He knows what it is and you think you do too. That’s why you’re shook as fuck. The shouting and calling through the window doesn’t stop. And when Yoongi arms unravels from your waist, your heart sinks.

“What is that?” You ask.

And when that same, familiar, sorry ass, corny ass smirk that you hate so damn badly form onto Yoongi’s face… you knew.

“That’s D-TOWN BABY.”

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megamindsecretlair · 4 months

Note

I just want to start off by saying that you’re keeping all of us Tyrone girlies well fed!! You’re hands down one of my favorite writers on Tumblr ❣️

Not sure if you’re taking requests , but I would kill to see Tyrone be the jealous/pining one. He just always seems so cool and collected. Maybe it’s like a friends to lovers thing (or maybe they’re FWB and he hasn’t made it official) and someone asks the reader out before he does. Might be slightly toxic, but I feel like it’s on brand for him

Break Me

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

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. Toxic FILTH. PWP, cursing, PIV, oral (fem receiving), dirty talk, praise kink, Toxic Tyrone, all consensual. Multiple uses of n-word. Referring to female anatomy as "she".

Summary: See ask. While you get ready for your date, Tyrone invites himself over to make you address where you stand with each other.

Word Count: 5,102k

A/N: I have no excuses for myself. None. Head empty. I'm SO sorry this took forever to get out, I feel so bad. I hope this was worth the wait! Thank you for calling me one of your fave writers! ILY! Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! And please put ages in bios! Or get blockt! Not everyone got tagged, simply because the list is so long and some of them have been inactive, no hard feelings!

Taglist: @planetblaque @notapradagurl7 @honeyoriginalz @soft-persephone @henneseyhoe @dayjlovesromance @browngirldominion @melaninpov @sevikasblackgf @tranquilfandomer @empressdede @mybonafidefeelings @westside-rot @blackerthings @slippinninque @nicolexnight @honeytoffee @l-auteuse @jarfulloftears @thadelightfulone @kindofaintrovert @softscorpio17 @lovedlover @montysstuffs @blowmymbackout @miyuhpapayuh @soapjay @theyscreamsannii @eggnox @sunkissedebony97

You sang along to Megan the Stallion’s song, “Girls in the Hood”, at full blast while you readied yourself for a date. Your shoulders bumped to the familiar beat, sliding on lip gloss. You felt good. Lighter than air. Dare you say…excited for the date?

You snickered and shook your head. No, you were not excited for no funky ass date. It was just nice to get dressed for once and leave your apartment for a Saturday night. You had been working hard the past few weeks, trying to get a little recognition at work.

You were approaching that time. The time where they either started showing some love or you were going to use their computers to find a new one. You hated starting over at a new place. You hated trying to suss out if the new people were going to be cool or full of microaggressions.

You sighed as you looked over your makeup in the mirror. You liked the soft complementary tones to your skin tone. Tonight was about you and that was all there was to it. Your phone buzzed on your nightstand.

You looked down, swiping to open it, and read the text from Tyrone.

Tyrone With That Monster: Need this dick?

Heat pulsed through you from the text alone. You stared at the screen as you willed your body to recover from the brief flashback to the last time Tyrone texted you. The way he had your legs in the air and was knocking your headboard into your wall so hard, there were still grooves there.

Nope, nope, nope. You were not going back there. It had been about a month since you last spoke to him. Both of you were too involved in your worlds to manage more than a scheduled back breaking. You did not need that toxic ass nigga in your life. No matter how good the dick was.

You texted back: naw, busy tonight.

Tyrone With That Monster: busy doin what? Watchin them corny ass shows?

You giggled and shook your head. You enjoyed cooking shows, there was nothing wrong with that. You knew it was fake as hell, but the food looked so good after. And dammit, you cared about some of the contestants whose lifelong dream it was to cook for their favorite chefs.

You: naw, a date

Tyrone With That Monster: what you mean a date?

You: I said what I said

You flipped your phone over. You did not have time to go back and forth with Tyrone. He wasn’t usually a fast texter and you still needed to slip on your dress. Your playlist flipped to “Body” by Megan the Stallion and you shimmied your way to your closet. You pulled out dress after dress, wondering which one screamed that you were classy but liked to be fucked into oblivion.

Your phone buzzed and buzzed but you ignored it. It was a text tone and you sincerely hoped that Vaughn was not the type of nigga to text that he was here. His ass better come to the door like a gentleman. He was too early anyway.

Going through your options, you decided to go with a burnished orange mini dress. You’d have to spend the night making sure you weren’t flashing your ass for the wrong crowd but it was short enough for Vaughn to get the message. You opened your closet door to reveal the mirror hanging from it.

You slipped the dress on, carefully yanking it down to fit over your wide hips and ass. You turned in the mirror to look at how the dress hung. Damn, you could see the bottom of your ass. There was no way to keep it down. Shit. Not appropriate for dinner. It was appropriate for the club, so you grabbed your phone from the vanity, ready to text your friend about a potential club date.

You had several missed messages from Tyrone asking where you were going, who you were going with, what you were wearing, why you stopped answering, etc. You giggled running through the messages. You didn’t know what was going on with him, acting like ya’ll went together real bad.

You were in the middle of typing a reply when you heard a thumping noise. You turned down Megan, a cardinal sin you know, and listened. Someone was banging on your door like they were the police. You tossed your phone onto your bed and headed towards the front door.

If it was your date, it was off. You had no time for a disrespectful ass mu’fucka. You looked through your peephole and gasped. Tyrone stood with his back towards you, scanning your neighborhood.

You opened the wooden door, staring at him through the metal door. “Tyrone?” You asked.

“Open up,” he said.

You crossed your arms. “Why are you here bangin’ on my door like that? You know my neighbor–”

“Is deaf as hell. Open this damn door,” he said and sucked his teeth.

Your pussy fluttered and you squeezed your thighs to make the ol’ girl calm down. So it had been a month since you seen him. So you still woke up in the morning sometimes from dreams where he folded you in half. Tyrone was a fuck boy, through and through, and you had no time for that.

“Who the hell do you think you talkin’ to like that? Take that bass out ya voice,” you said.

“Open this damn door,” Tyrone said, lowering his voice and injecting more bass. Asshole. That only turned you on more.

You sighed and twisted the lock, opening the door for him. You didn’t want to cause a scene. The sweet old lady you lived next door to was kind and treated you like a granddaughter. She wouldn’t understand why you’d put up with someone like Tyrone.

You didn’t really understand it either. You just knew that you hated a weak ass man. There was nothing wrong with men who listened to their ladies and were sweet in everything that they did. But it turned you off when you told someone to shut up and they just went, “yes, ma’am”.

Where was the fight? Where was the passion? Words never swayed you. You were always about the action.

Tyrone swept into your apartment, closing and locking the door behind him. He closed the wooden door and then finally faced you. Letting him in was a mistake you genuinely regretted at that moment.

He looked so cozy standing there in a hooded jacket, jacket over it, thick black jeans, and some Jordans. You wanted to bundle up with him. In your room. Under the covers.

“The hell you going dressed like that?” He asked.

“Hello to you too, nigga,” you rolled your eyes and traipsed back to your room. Tyrone’s thunderous steps followed.

“Shoes off!” You snapped.

Tyrone sighed dramatically, never understanding the thing about taking off his shoes. You didn’t know which ho’s house he was coming from or which backwoods ass alley he was selling out of, but you did not want it tracked all over your soft brown carpet.

Tyrone followed you to your room where you slipped the dress back over your head. You were braless and Tyrone openly stared at your tits but it wasn’t anything he hadn’t seen before. He was barely a friend and he would be nothing more so there was no harm.

Even though you felt his gaze like a physical thing. As if he were already pulling you close and running his hands across your breasts, squishing, kneading…okay, stop it.

You looked through your other dresses, trying to find something before your date showed up. You roughly had an hour, so you hoped you could find something quickly. If finding your dress was hard, finding a matching pair of heels was harder.

“So you just gon’ flash them shits and ignore me?”

“What do you want, Tyrone? I said I was busy,” you told him. Your back was to him. You didn’t want to look at him too long or give him any hint that he could approach you. You weren’t sure you had the willpower to resist him.

Did you love him? No. You barely tolerated him. You weren’t even sure how you fell into “fuck buddy” territory. It had been a wild couple of months, where you had more fun having sex than you could remember.

But, the more you hopped in with him, the less you wanted to hop in with anyone else. And that simply wouldn’t do.

You were growing uncomfortably wet. Your brain and heart didn’t want him, but your pussy did. Every swish of your thighs and dip of your hip reminded you of how wet you grew around him. If he were to enter you right now, he wouldn’t need to work himself in. You were your very own slip n’ slide.

You bit your lip to keep from laughing, you didn’t want to have to explain yourself.

“You said you didn’t do dates,” he said.

“I don’t.” You couldn’t concentrate on finding a dress while he stood there, across the way from you. It felt like he was crowding your space. Or maybe that was just his presence.

“What the fuck? Why you actin’ like this?” He asked.

“I’m not acting like anything. You the one that showed up unannounced,” you said. You risked a glance at him. He had his hands in his hoodie pocket, head tilted a bit to the side, and eyes furrowed.

Fuck, he was gorgeous. With his big, sexy ass lips. Wide nose. Fierce eyebrows. Your pussy would never let you forget what his tongue could do. Could you clean yourself up real quick? You didn’t want to go out on a date with soaked panties.

You pulled the next dress you could find out of the closet and held it up to yourself. It was a black, sleeveless midi dress that would more than cover your ass but still short enough to not hinder you from getting some tonight.

You had been depriving yourself of dick, mostly because you were bored with the current rotation. They weren’t doing anything new, weren't trying to do anything new, and you didn’t have time to break it down for them.

You were ready to hop on and get yours. So you quietly ghosted the current roster and set to work building up some potentials. Vaughn was the only one with some sense so far. He used proper grammar, he had hobbies outside of playing ball on the weekends or surfing the internet trolling, and he was on his grown man grind.

“If you wanted a date, why didn’t you ask me?” Tyrone asked.

You laughed. The sound erupted from you, loudly and rudely, and you held your hand to your mouth to rein it back in.

“You? Taking me on a date? Be fuckin’ forreal.” You couldn’t hide the laughter in your tone.

“You actin’ like a nigga can’t take you somewhere nice. After we fuck, you kickin’ me out the bed.”

Laughter still shook your shoulders as you glanced at him. But he wasn’t laughing. His lips were pressed together and you had to really look at him. Was he serious?

“I thought that was what we agreed to?” Did you miss something?

“Yeah, I thought we agreed to fuck with each other.”

“And do?”

“So why you switching shit up, going on dates? When we got started, I asked you out a few times.”

You bit the corner of your mouth. You hated messy shit like this. “Not that I have to explain myself, but I felt like a date today. Felt like doing something new. Fuck buddies starting to get played if I can’t hang out after,” you said. You shrugged your shoulders.

You weren’t in the market for a relationship. Didn’t have the time. But you supposed that you wanted a friend with benefits. Hang out to do dumb shit like go to the movies, go see a gallery opening, go out to dinner and then come home to get off. You weren’t down for the cuddling shit but maybe? You didn’t know what you were after, but this wasn’t it anymore.

You couldn’t picture Tyrone doing any of those things. He was too busy, too rough around the edges, to fit the ideal friend you were looking for.

“Then why can’t we hang after?” Tyrone asked.

You fought a smile. “And do what, Tyrone? Watch my corny ass shows that you complain about? Talk about work? Go out to the same five fast food restaurants and eat in the car, parked somewhere?”

“Damn, you think that about me?” His voice got soft. Shit. No, no. This was going all wrong. Tyrone was good for being a stone wall. You could say whatever and do whatever. He didn’t care. You liked that he didn’t care.

“I’m saying that this isn’t an exclusive thing. We both knew that. How many women you don’ fucked on your way over to me? How many girls you got waiting for a call back from you?”

“Ion know, I ain’t messed with none of them bitches for a good while. You’d know that if you texted me for something other than dick,” he said.

“Need I remind you who texted who tonight?”

“You’re so fuckin’ irritating!” Tyrone exploded.

“I don’t know what you want!” You screamed back.

“You! Dumb ass!”

Your mouth was already open, ready to rip apart anything he said in response. But when his words sunk in, when the pounding of your heart in your ears lessened, it dawned on you that he said he wanted you.

“Oh,” you said. You stood there awkwardly. You had the dress in your hands, hanging limply from the hangar. You lifted it, covering yourself, not sure what to say to that.

“You don’t even think about me, do you?”

“Don’t put words in my mouth,” you said. You faced away from him.

“Then tell me what’s going on in your head, ‘cause I never do. I don’t fuckin’ get you half the time. But I know I want you,” he said.

“You just want what’s between my legs. This my fuckin’ pussy,” you snapped. Anger bubbled in your gut. Who the fuck did he think he was, pulling this shit? Forcing you to confront these…these…fuck ass feelings? You were about your money. You were about your grind. This was precisely why you didn’t want relationships and cut niggas off before it got this far.

This was ultimately your fault, for letting him linger for so long. But how could you deny your insane chemistry with him? You never got the grooves fixed in your wall because you liked remembering how he handled your body. You liked remembering that he worshiped every inch of you and never made a snide comment about your looks or weight.

You pretty for a big girl…it’s nice to be out with someone who eat like me, not like a damn bird…

“Don’t put words in my mouth. Ain’t that what you said?” Tyrone fired back.

You sighed and pushed past him, heading for the bathroom. “I need to get ready for my date,” you mumbled.

Tyrone blocked your exit from your bedroom, using his size to crowd in even more. “How could you still think about that nigga when I’m right in front of you? Telling you I want you? We can stop the sex right now, if you’ll give me a chance,” he said, his tone soft. His eyes were pleading with you, silently begging you to make that leap.

“There’s only sex between us, Tyrone. Move,” you said. You looked away from him, digging your hands into your flesh, clutching the dress to yourself.

“Fine. Tell me your pussy ain’t wet and I’ll leave,” he said.

“That’s not fair, Tyrone,” you said.

“I don’t care. Tell me it isn’t. Tell me them little ass panties ain’t fuckin’ soaked.”

“Sex was never our problem,” you told him.

“You ain’t trynna be with me and I know you ain’t trynna be with whatever fuck nigga you got comin’ to swoop you up. You don’t even know if his dick as good as mine. Let me send you out proper then,” he said.

He closed the minimal distance between you, pressing his lips to your temple. “Show me you truly don’t fuck with me no more and I’ll leave,” he said.

“You just confessed that you want me. How fair is it to let you hit after that? Or let you hit and then go out with someone else?” He could not fuck you into being with him. There was no way that he was going to fuck some feelings into you.

Stupidly, a small part of you still didn’t want to give him up. You wanted him to take back what he said. To unring that bell. You wanted him to take those words from your brain so that he could stay on the roster. Stay unbothered. You didn’t want to change your arrangement.

“I’m just some fuck boy right? I got other women waiting on this dick, so what does it matter?”

“Because you already ruined it!”

Tyrone only smirked. He tugged on the dress. You held on but you didn’t want to tear the dress either. You let it go and he tossed the dress onto your ottoman. He spread your arms out and he looked down at your titties. It was just cold. That was the only reason your nipples were beaded up like that.

“I can’t ruin what never was. I’m a grown ass man. I can handle rejection,” he said. His thumbs rubbed against your nipples and you fought off a shiver.

“Tyrone…” You knew this was a bad idea. “We shouldn’t.”

Dammit, you were dick whipped. And you knew that you had to hold out. Had to remain strong. You couldn’t fuck someone who had feelings for you. You were an asshole but you had to be an asshole with some rules. There was a line somewhere.

Tyrone took off his jacket and then took off his hoodie, revealing a white t-shirt. His lips returned to your forehead, then your cheek, bypassing your mouth and headed towards your neck. You melted into his kisses, leaning your head back for more. Wait, no.

You pushed him away and put your hands up. “We can’t.”

“We shouldn’t. We can’t. Tell me no. Tell me no since you ain’t want me,” he said.

“I told you that sex was never our problem,” you said. You’d definitely have to change your panties now. You couldn’t go on a date like this. All hot and bothered. “I hate you.”

Tyrone smirked, removing his shirt. Your mouth dropped open. It had been far too long since you seen him naked. Since you seen that one eyed-monster he got hiding in his pants.

His hands deftly unbuttoned his jeans, the zipper moving slowly down. You followed the action. You were throbbing right now, needing a really good dick down. Wasn’t that what the whole Vaughn thing was for anyway? You had been texting him for a few weeks and you appreciated that he wasn’t begging for pussy. But Tyrone was right. You didn’t know if Vaughn was good in bed yet.

“What was it that you said? It’s your pussy right? Don’t you want to take care of her before your date? Just so you’re in it thinking with your head,” he said.

Tyrone waited. He waited for you to tell him no. To tell him to get dressed, walk out, and leave you free for your date. You just stared at his hands on his jeans, ready to pull them down.

“I hate you,” you sighed. You weren’t strong. You were not every woman. It was not all in you. He was right. He was a grown man and he could handle rejection. One last roll around the sheets wouldn’t kill him. Maybe he needed that final nut to get you out of his system.

Tyrone’s smug smile split his face as he dropped the jeans. His dick was already pressing against his black boxer briefs. He rubbed himself over the top. “Get that pretty ass on the bed,” he said.

He had you, so he was back to familiar territory. You followed his directions, walking backwards until your legs hit the bed. You sat down. He approached, still rubbing that wonderful, beautiful dick of his.

You licked your lips. You reached out to grab the band of the boxers, but he slapped your hand away. You gave him a funny look but he only knelt down slowly. He hauled your legs to his shoulders and scooted in, until you were angled perfectly.

He took a deep breath. “Missed this fuckin’ pussy,” he said. He moved your panties to the side and started eating you out. No teasing, no games, just big lips attached to your pussy and eating like it was his God given right.

“Oue, shit,” you moaned. You tried to scoot back a bit. You weren’t used to such intensity from him.

Tyrone pulled you forward, pressing his shoulders under your thighs and forcing your legs wider. Music still played in the background, a sensual R&B tune called “Flames” that only highlighted this naughty moment.

His tongue flicked against your clit. He attacked it with precision, flicking it back and forth since he knew it was the quickest way to get you off. As he did that, his left hand held your pussy lips open. His right hand trailed down in your slickness and pushing inside you.

“Ohhhhh,” you moaned to the ceiling. He fucked you with his thick digits, going in and out at a fast pace. Your thighs shook on his shoulders.

“Mhm, this yo pussy right?” He whispered against your clit.

“Yess,” you moaned. And it was. You were the proud owner of something that drove men insane. Thinkin’ they owned you or some shit. You were the mu’fucka that had to deal with it day in and day out. So why should it belong to a mu’fucka who couldn’t find your clit even if you drew them a map?

Tyrone suckled on your clit, driving his fingers deeper inside of you. Tyrone didn’t need a map. He knew exactly what to do. He flipped his hand over, curling his fingers in a come hither motion. You clutched his braids as you came on his face. Shaking. Quaking. Was there an earthquake or were you just shaking that damn badly from this momentous orgasm?

“Fuuhh,” you cried out. It had been entirely too long. Damn, my bad sis, you mentally thought about your vagina. You would never deprive her for so long again.

You twitched as Tyrone continued to lap up your orgasm, groaning at your taste. He was mumbling something but you couldn’t hear. He leaned back, lifting his soaked fingers to his mouth and suckled up your juices.

He stood up and peeled off your panties. “Knew you were wet as fuck,” he said, self satisfaction written all over his face.

“Whatever, nigga,” you groaned. He chuckled and picked you up. He tossed you further on the bed. You were ready to admonish him for it, but he finally freed that big ass monster. His dick bobbed when he was finally free.

He stood there a moment, letting you look your fill. “Hurry up and come fuck me,” you said. You didn’t have time to play. You weren’t sure what the time was. Oh yeah, you tossed your phone onto the bed.

Tyrone chuckled. He grabbed your waist and flipped you over. The bed dipped as he climbed on.. Where did he get the fuckin’ audacity to toss you around like this? Was this the same Tyrone? Did he have a twin or clone somewhere who was a little sex freak?

He slapped your ass. “Goddamn,” he said. “That fuckin’ recoil is dangerous.”

“Who do-”

He entered you and you gasped from his size. Did he get bigger? Was that possible? This couldn’t be the same dick you were hopping on a few weeks ago. “Oh fuck,” you gasped.

Your hands clutched the red sheets, trying to pull yourself away from him. You weren’t prepared for this!

Tyrone slammed your hips back down on his girth and you cried out. A mix of pain and pleasure had your hand frantically reaching back. Tyrone grabbed it and pushed it into the bed next to your head. His large hand covering yours was sexy all by itself. Your pussy fluttered and Tyrone groaned.

“This yo pussy right?” He asked.

“Yeesssuh,” you moaned.

You started throwing it back on him, slapping your ass against his thighs. The wet smacking got louder than the music playing in the background. “Fuck me,” he moaned and went harder.

A dance of dominance began. Your hips rolled as you tried to gain some type of control. You liked getting fucked as much as the next person, but he was an entirely different animal tonight. A dangerous one. He was pulling out all kinds of moves you didn’t know he had. And you were unprepared for it. Blindsided that this mu’fucka still had some tricks up his sleeve.

But every inch you tried to gain, he’d switch it up. He took his hand off of yours and replaced it on your hip. He lifted up his right leg to steady himself. Then he really went to town. Each meeting of your skin on his was like a shotgun blast. Lethal. Loud. His thrusts were hard. His strokes deep.

He moved his hand again, snaking it under your bodies until he found your clit. “Oh, shit, wait,” you mumbled.

“Uh-uh, this yo pussy. Treat her right,” he grunted. His harsh breaths fanned over your overheated skin.

His fingers were too much. You reared up as another orgasm tore through you. Like a mini tornado. You shook, your eyes crossed, and pleasure whipped you into a chaotic frenzy. As you were still cumming, Tyrone pulled out long enough to flip you onto your back.

Your hands flew to his chest, but he ignored you. The nigga had a demon inside of him. He licked his lips as he rammed back inside of you. Your back bowed off of the bed.

“What the fu–”

“Ima need one more, pretty girl,” he said. He pressed his chest into yours. His sweat mixed with yours. You slid easily against him, both panting and grunting and rutting like two mu’fuckas in heat.

“I can’t–”

“Sure you can. It’s your pussy, you can do what you want,” he murmured into your neck. He lifted his head and kissed you.

You were stunned, gasping, and he took advantage licking the lip gloss from your lips. His tongue played with yours.

On the heels of your last orgasm, he pulled another one from you. Like a little thief. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head. Surely, you saw stars. The universe. You knew every answer known to man in that moment. You touched another reality as your body flooded his dick.

He slipped out and he frantically shoved back in. “That’s right. You treat that pussy well,” he said. He continued to kiss you and fuck you through it. You couldn’t comprehend anything beyond his dick ramming inside of you as if he were truly trying to steal your guts.

Distantly, you heard your ringtone. “Ignore it,” you said against his lips.

“Answer it,” he said.

“What?”

“Answer. That. Shit.” Every word was a deeper stroke. How was he not as deep as possible already?!

You turned your head, your hand frantically reaching through your red sheets for your phone. Vaughn’s name flashed on the screen. Fuuuuuck.

Pressure built in your lower belly. You clenched around Tyrone’s thick dick. “On speaker,” Tyrone said with a smirk.

Your hand shakily swiped to answer and then you put him on speaker. You laid the phone on your chest. Tyrone seemed to like that because he grinned and then turned his attention to your abandoned nipples.

He suckled one into his mouth. “H-Hello?” You answered, trying to sound like you weren’t getting your guts rearranged.

“Hey, just wanted to let you know that I was five minutes out.” Vaughn had a deep voice too. Not quite as deep as Tyrone’s. But it still lovingly caressed your ears.

“I’m so sorry. I uh-” You bit your lip to keep from moaning. He was so damn big. His thrusts turned shallow, giving you a little room to breathe. His tongue laved around your nipple, sending sharp tugs to your pussy.

“I should’ve texted,” you said. Your voice sounded strained to your own ears. If Vaughn wasn’t dumb, he’d know that you were doing something nasty. With someone that wasn’t him.

“Everything okay? You sound out of breath?” Vaughn asked.

“I feel so sick.” You bit your lip again as Tyrone nibbled. He threw you a wink and then slammed into you once. You heaved and hoped it didn’t sound like a moan.

“Do you want me to bring something over? I just passed a store,” Vaughn said.

Take the fuckin’ hint, damn! “That’s–sweet. No, I’ll call, okay?” You asked.

“Alright. I’ll check on you. I hope you feel better.” He was so sweet. Dumbass.

“Okay, byee!” You hung up the phone just as Tyrone increased his strokes. His balls slapped against your wet pussy, your sheets drenched from your orgasms.

“This yo pussy?” Tyrone asked as he threw his head back and finally came, flooding you with his cum.

“Shiiii–” You came with him, both of you mutually lost to it. To the heat and pleasure chasing around and around inside your body.

Tyrone grabbed your wrists as his dick pulsed inside of you. You felt the spurts leaking out of him. He pressed your wrists close to your head. He grunted as he felt you clenching and unclenching around him, greedily sucking it all in.

“Sorry about your date,” Tyrone panted and grinned.

“I hate you so goddamn much,” you said and chuckled.

“Let’s throw on one of them corny ass shows and I’ll eat you out again.” He kissed along your jaw, wiggling his hips a bit so you knew he was still thoroughly lodged there, burying his cum deep inside you.

Well, who were you to complain? You ain’t want to go out that badly anyway.

Whew! You feelin' alright? There's more! The Secret Tyrone Files

#Megaminds Secret Files #The Secret Tyrone Files #Tyrone x Black!reader #Tyrone x Black reader #x Black reader #Tyrone x Fem!reader #Tyrone x Fem reader #Tyrone x Mean!reader #Tyrone x Mean reader #Toxic Tyrone #Tyrone smut #They Cloned Tyrone smut #They Cloned Tyrone fanfic #They Cloned Tyrone fan fic #They Cloned Tyrone fanfiction #They Cloned Tyrone fan fiction #Black writers #Tyrone x you #Tyrone x reader

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krashoutluv · 3 months

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I can't stop thinking about Princess Mononoke AK!Jason, dude is just so feral and full of anger just like San, but I like the idea of that famous scene:

"I'll cut your throat out and that'll make you stop talking!"

"You're beautiful."

But with a reader who had never seen his face before, maybe they save him and he scold them for it and threaten them, but reader is just to mesmerized and busy losing blood to care.

YOURE FEEDING ME DAWG— I swear i needa write a fic of Ak!Jason and a Civilian!Reader or smthn cause youre so rightfjorbdkdjdjd.

but i dont think ak!jay would threaten someone he cares about. it’d make him feel like his time with the joker rubbed off on him too bad :(

HOWEVER. short fic of this bc i LOVE THIS so BAD

“You’re So Beautiful.” / Eyes Are Windows Into The Soul Ak!Jason SHORT FIC SFW

tw: blood! not super in depth! but reader has a not detailed wound!

NO BETA, I DIE LIKE A REAL NIGGA!!

What you did this night will always be unequivocally, undeniably, unmistakably, DOWNRIGHT, stupid. But was it worth it? A little.

JASON was grappling across rooftops as fast as he could to his bunker; your wound wasn’t a death sentence but needed to be tended to quickly. His arm was wrapped around your lower waist, body tightly pressed against his as he zipped across Gotham. Jason had adrenaline rushing through him, especially because he could feel your warm blood seeping onto his clothing. He was so quiet, it made you wonder if you were gonna die, but tried to rationalize it with the fact that he’s never been much of a talker. He landed on a roof and propped you up against a wall as he unlocked the door that connected to the top of his bunker. Jason kept his eyes trained on you through his mask, you were light headed and his Hood showed that your heart-rate was higher then average as well. Obviously really use to this kind of action, he wasn’t sure if he hated himself for getting you involved in his Gotham gravity or the fact he couldn’t protect you. It was BOTH.

JASON wrapped his arm around your waist, then threw his other under your knees. Princess carrying you down to the bathroom. “My knight in shining armor?” You joked as he set you down onto the toilet lid, trying to ease both your nerves just a bit. “Not funny.” He grunted, crouching down under the sink to grab the first-aid kit he had under it. “Understandable..” you said meekly in return. Jason kneeled besides you, quickly making work on disinfecting the wound. “Not a big fan on dark ‘poorly timed’ humor?” He paused, and took off his helmet, damn thing was too detailed for him to see properly. He needed to work on stitching this, not know your god damn blood type and parents. His annoyance peaking, he responded sharply “I’m not a big fan of you stupidly jeopardizing yourself for me.” he knew not to look at you, just fucking knew not to. You were gonna say something— you had to—he cant— he fucking looked. They say the eyes are windows into the soul, “You’re beautiful.” Not what he expected, not even a little. Maybe a ‘How’d you get that?’ or ‘The hell happened to you?’ but that? Yeah not fucking that. It had you both staring into each others eyes for just a few seconds too long. He turned away once he felt his face burning,” God, how much blood are you losing?” You snickered.

THE Red Hood is a pretty boy, with pretty blue eyes, and a pretty face, and a pretty bottom lip.

so worth !

i loved this so bad, inbox is open for more rqs and rambles!

#arkham knight x reader #jason todd x reader #jason todd #jason peter todd #arkham knight #i ramble about arkham knight heheheej #red hood x reader #red hood #skullkidwithsunglasses

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kechiwrites · 1 year

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My fav genre of fic is when black authors write anime husband's talking like hood niggas. LIKE WHY IS GOJO SPITTING LIGHTSKIN GAME TO ME? I LOVE THAT.

#i wish i could post privately 😔#jjk x black reader #black!reader #gojo x black reader

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quintessencewrites · 1 year

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Yes, Daddy

stud!ShuRiri x black!fem!reader

“I’m daddy,” Shuri growls and you sink into her body, melting at her vernacular. “Understand, baby?”

You make the mistake of nodding first, catching yourself quickly. “Yes,” you correct.

“Yes, what?”

“Y-yes, daddy.”

Warnings: 18+!!!!! SMUT HEAVY, dom!Shuri, brat!tamer!Shuri, brat!tamer!Riri, switch!Riri, sub!reader, brat!Riri, brat!reader, multiple orgasms, fingering, tribbing, oral sex, squirting, EXPLICIT language, semi-public sex, car sex, edging, HEAVY praise kink, drinking, slight degradation, drunk!Riri, drunk!Shuri, drunk!reader, twerking, stud!Shuri, stud!Riri, fem!reader, possibly some that I missed...

Word Count: 6.3k+

Tag List: @percsane @zestgodtj @k3nn3dyxo @mlmilani @letitias-fav @doms-fav @sweetalittleselfish-honey @g4yforu @widowmakker @becauseimswagman1 @zayswriting @inmyheadimobsessed @laurensmabel1 @malltake12 @msudaku @faeriah-thv @fetchyourlife @mbakuetshurisprincess @sinsikoxo @honey-teaaaaaaaa @rxcently @pinkcorns @takeyaki @yamsthoughts @thethickerside @0hshoot1tsl4ni @shurisbathwater @shurismainbxtch @luvrzhearts @sadfreakx @shuri-my-love @justariellove @heartsforjojo @blackgirlfariy @tuesdaylovesu @chocoflagcutii @taiiunknown @zhanylai @ziayamikaelson @verachii @taiiunknown @beautybyfire @soearthquakequeen @remwritess @pinkwright @jenlouvre @letitiasleftfoot @6-noir

A/N: Happy Valentine's Day, my loves!!! Loosely based on Riri's Love Letter. I got a little carried away, so she's kinda long, but yall, she is filthy. Enjoy <3

“It’s no way I just let you drag my ass to this party. And on Valentine’s day too? I don’t wanna be around all these damn couples.”

The space was overcrowded, bodies gyrating everywhere. Too many people in a too-small room.

“I did. If I need space away from my lab, your little ass surely needs to get out of your garage.”

Riri’s tiny frame was fuming. If she could have rolled her eyes any harder at Shuri, the pretty brown orbs would have rolled right out of her head.

“Whatever, man. If you need me, I’ll be in that corner over there.” She pointed to the only empty spot in the building, right next to the trash cans. Riri barely made it two steps away before Shuri grabbed her back by the hood of her jacket.

“Nigga, what?” Ri’s small body jerked hard at Shuri’s swift movements. The Panther’s brow cocked at the irate girl’s words.

“I spent hours getting you to look decent enough to roll with me. You not bout to hide my hard work in the corner. Go get us some drinks.” Shuri’s dominant tone left no room for defiance, despite Riri’s attitude at the moment.

She parted from the Wakandan with another eye roll as Shuri swaggered her way through the entanglement of people.

“Gonna send me for drinks like I’m her damn bottle girl. I know she got actual servants for shit like this,” Riri’s words were mumbled and grumbled, the heavy bottles of liquor unfamiliar in her sober hands. “Why the hell we drinking anyway? We could’ve just rolled up in the car.”

“Hey, Riri,” a candy-coated voice greeted. “Wassup?” Riri never tore her eyes away from the cups, silently cursing them for filling so slowly.

The stranger wasn’t deterred. “You look good tonight. You got a Valentine?” Cue the third eye roll of the night. Ri didn’t bother responding this time. From her peripheral, she saw the unknown girl step closer, way too close for Riri’s comfort.

Whoever she was, the bitch was bold. She took Riri’s chain in her index finger, tugging a bit. “This chain look good. I bet it look just as good hanging over me when-”

Riri was beyond irritated now. She stepped in, closing the gap between her and the girl she vaguely recognized from her chemistry class. Vanessa? Victoria? Whatever, she knew it started with a V.

Her voice dropped several octaves, eliminating any risk for her threats to be heard over the booming music. “Get your hands off me. Now.”

A challenge? Or was V-whatever too drunk to hear the venom behind Riri’s words? “I like a bitch that can take control, daddy. Come on, Cupid ain’t shoot you yet?”

Fourth eye roll in twenty minutes, followed by an almost audible gag. Rather than wasting her breath responding, Riri roughly released the vixen’s grip from her chain and walked off in search of Shuri.

Her tall frame wasn’t hard to spot. Where else would Shuri be but center stage amongst drunken dancers? “Where the drinks at?”

Shit. Riri’s mind wandered to the forgotten cups. Won’t no way she was going back alone. “C’mon,” she grabbed Shuri’s wrist, dragging her into the mostly empty kitchen. Horny V was nowhere to be seen, Thank Bast.

“This didn’t need to be a two-person job,” Shuri stated, reaching for fresh cups.

“It did when I couldn’t pour in peace. Bitch came in here so cocky, so close, I thought she was gon fuck me right here on the island.”

Shuri snickered an amused sound. “So when I try to fuck you in public, it’s an issue-

Riri was not amused, neither by her friend’s tone or accusations. “Shut the fuck up, man. She called me daddy.”

“So?”

“So? Nigga, do I look like the ‘daddy’ type to you? That’s your shit. I’m ma, mamas, hell, I’ll even take mami, spelled with an I to be exact.”

This time, the eye roll wasn’t from Riri. “Tell me you have mommy issues without telling me you have mommy issues.”

“Yeah, ight, daddy issues.”

Shuri’s eyes narrowed, but she ignored the slick remark. “Here,” she threw a half-full cup into Riri’s empty hands. “You working my nerves. Get this shit in your system and loosen the fuck up.”

The sound of Riri sucking her teeth was louder than intended. “Loosen up, I’ll loosen you the fuck up.” The remark was childish, but it was better than letting Shuri have the last word.

“Ight, ma,” Shuri tapped Ri’s chin. “Open up.”

Riri obeyed, no longer in the mood to argue. Her head tilted and her lips parted, allowing Shuri to pour the contents of the cup down her throat.

The liquid felt like fire against Riri’s esophagus. The need to cough, to gag, to breathe became hard to ignore. “Swallow. You almost done.” Shuri commanded.

The pouring finally ceased and Riri gasped, lungs begging to be filled with air. Coughing made her throat burn all over again.

“You took that like a bitch.” Shuri was already refilling the red solo.

“Fuck you,” Riri spat, another childish comeback.

The Wakandan royal just slid the cup toward Ri and sauntered back into the crowd, drink in one hand, the other swaying to the beat.

It was clear they wouldn’t be leaving anytime soon. “It’s no way Imma be able to enjoy this shit without something in my system,” Riri was getting into the habit of talking to herself tonight. “Bottoms up.” The girl quoted Trey Songs before knocking back the contents of the cup.

There was a noticeable buzz building at this point, but it wasn’t enough. Riri filled the cup again, downing it much easier than the previous times.

She was halfway through her fourth cup when she started to sway. There it was. That’s what she wanted to feel.

Where was Shuri? Ri was suddenly in the mood to dance. She abandoned her cup on the counter and willed her feet to move. Her steps were surprisingly steady as she entered the main room, where bodies swam on top of one another.

Shuri’s curls waved on top of the crowd, and Riri used them as her guide. The tall girl was preoccupied, in the middle of an intense dance battle that Ri wanted no part in.

Riri found solace in a less crowded part of the makeshift dancefloor and allowed her body to bob to the beat. Her right hand hung at the crotch of her sweats while her left hand conducted an imaginary orchestra. The shiny gold chain that hung around her neck swung in her movements and the ends of her long cornrows hit the back of her thighs each time she swayed.

Ri’s entire focus was on the music, on the way her lonely body rocked. The alcohol in her system was doing just what Shuri had wanted. Riri was loosening up, even beginning to enjoy herself.

Eyes closed, heart thumping to the bass, Riri’s anger, irritation, her stress, all washed away. Her vision was still dark when she felt a body heat that wasn’t hers. A sweet perfume filled her nostrils and a pressure presented itself at her crotch. Ri opened her eyes and looked down, vision blessed to see ass pressed against her, grinding slowly.

She didn’t know who the ass belonged to, but shit was being thrown, and Riri be damned if she didn’t catch it.

When the song’s tempo changed, so did your movements. You didn’t know the stranger you were twerking against. She looked good from across the room and she was mouth-watering up close. Your actions were liquor-induced and the way you threw shit at Riri had her thinking you did this on the regular.

A slower song rang through the speakers and Riri was speechless. You practically had her drunken mind drooling. She was enticed, by your aroma, your body, and the way you maneuvered it. Her hand snaked around your waist and pulled you flush against her.

She knew the next words out of her mouth would be stupid. “Do you have a name, or can I call you mine?” Her heart swelled with pride when your laughter rang out. It chimed in her ears, the most beautiful sound she’d ever heard.

Your body shifted beneath her hold as you swung to face the corny-ass girl. Riri’s mouth fell, and her gasp became the loudest thing in the room. You’d taken her breath away. Her eyes never left your face, studying your features as if she would be quizzed on them. She loved what she saw. She loved it all. Your eyes were striking and intense, gazing at her with a look that made her want to take you right then and right there. Your bottom lip was rolled back into your mouth, between your teeth in such a seductive way. She wished so deeply that it was her biting those lips instead.

Riri stood there, hands never leaving your hips. Her mouth gaped and she struggled to find the words, any words, to say. Your beautiful eyes rolled at her overused pick-up line. “I have a name-”

She found her words at that moment and interrupted yours. “I don’t care. I’d rather call you mine.” Her grip on you tightened and your bit lip suppressed your accidental moans.

“‘Mine’ isn’t what my mama named me.” The bark behind your words was just that. All bark, no bite. Unless it was her. She could bite you where ever she wanted.

Ri’s head tilted to the right and her playful eyes challenged you. The heart beating in your chest stopped, but only for a moment. You knew nothing about this girl, but God, the things she was already doing to you. “What did your mama name you then?”

“Y/n,” it came out whispered. Any louder would’ve revealed the moans you were trying so hard to conceal.

Riri’s brows furrowed but her smile widened. “Pretty name for such a pretty girl.”

“You think I’m a pretty girl, then?”

Her head shook slowly and her eyes traveled your body even slower. “Nah, pretty don’t do it justice. I’d have to invent a new word to describe your beauty.”

Another laugh released from you. She was laying it on thick. Matching her energy would mean stepping out of your comfort zone but that had vanished two drinks ago. “What’s your name?”

“You can call me Ma. Mamas or Mami if you feeling me.”

Mhm, hummed from behind your pretty lips. “What your mama name you?”

Her laughter was deep and it vibrated through you. Your thighs involuntarily squeezed together as you willed your cunt to calm itself. “My mama named me Riri.”

“Riri,” you purred. It was befitting. She bore her name like a badge of honor. Her name rolling off your tongue caused an obvious pain to flash her features. “It sound so good when you say it”

Her words… If you bit your lip any harder, it would bleed. Your self-control was crumbling.

Riri leaned in, fingers digging into your hips like she was trying to ground herself. Her lips were close, brushing against your ear. “I could fucking devour your fine ass right now, y/n.”

Oh, that was it. That’s all it took.

The look you gave her said ‘fuck me’ and your words weren’t too far behind. “Devour it, then, ma.”

She smirked and you felt your legs weaken under her hold. Her cornrows bounced when she nodded her head, beckoning you away from the music and through the crowd.

Where was Shuri? Riri scanned the bodies, searching for those signature curls. She was never hard to spot, and with your hand in hers, Riri led you to the tall girl.

“Shuri, gimme the keys.”

The Princess had reached a point beyond drunk. She danced amongst people she didn’t know, preoccupied with ass coming at her from every direction.

The small girl’s irritation was growing again. She tapped Shuri on the shoulder, hard. “Nigga, give me the keys.”

If looks could kill, Riri would be six feet under, and then some. Shuri begrudgingly parted from the plump behind pushing up on her. “What I tell you bout calling me that shit? You not getting my damn keys.”

Riri could handle Shuri’s dominance in any other scenario, but not this one. She wasn’t about to take this shit, especially not in front of you.

“Shuri.” It came out like a hiss, in such a tone that Shuri could not disregard. “Give me the fucking keys.”

“For what, Ri-? Oh?” Shuri was facing Riri, now in full view of you. “Oh, shit.” A sly smirk parted her lips, revealing a row of gold grills that glimmered at you. Your stomach somersaulted. No way this already gorgeous girl had a just as gorgeous friend.

“You gon share?” Shuri asked, her eyes raking across your body, tracing your curves with her gaze.

“I can’t share shit if you don’t give me the keys.”

“So that’s a yes then?” Shuri never takes her eyes off of you, tossing the keys to an anxious Riri.

As soon as they touch her hand, Ri spins on her heels towards the door, dragging you along with her.

“I thought you was gonna share!” You can hear Shuri’s cries above the thumping bass and Riri just throws her middle finger up in response.

She walks you to a blacked-out SUV that chirps when she unlocks the doors.

Riri opens the back door, gesturing for you to get in. “Such a gentleman,” you tease.

“Only for you,” is her quick response.

The heavy door barely swings shut behind her before you’ve got your lips on hers. Shock is her initial reaction, but it’s quickly washed away. She kisses you back gently as if afraid she would break you.

Nah, fuck all that soft shit. You swing your leg over her lap to straddle her, your dress riding up around your hips. Underneath is a thin string that barely qualifies as a thong. Riri hardly has to utilize any strength to rip it apart, exposing your wetness to the cold February air.

Her self-control melts at the sight of you on top of her. Your pussy exposed, dripping, begging to be caressed. Your perfect breasts sat in her face, grazing her chin. Riri rested her hands on your ass, overwhelmed by which part of you to devour first.

Your hand cups her face, pulling the pretty features up to yours before your lips take control again. Your tongues intertwined, hers feeling so soft, so warm against yours. Riri tilts her head, deepening the kiss and forgetting the need for air.

When you two pull away, a thin string of saliva keeps your lips connected. “Damn,” you gasp, chest heaving.

Riri’s eyes are back on your bosom, bouncing in her face with each breath you take. She can’t take it anymore. Within seconds, she has the top of your dress pulled down, gathering the garment around your midsection. Your breasts are standing front and center, your nipples aligned with Riri’s mouth.

She glances up at you, awaiting your permission. “Go ahead,” you whisper, yet Ri doesn’t budge. “Take me, mamas.”

“Mamas?” She asks, pulling your pierced nipples to brush her lips. They harden in response and you gasp, wanting so badly for Riri to just devour you as promised. “So you feeling me?”

“Ask me again in twenty minutes.”

Her deep laughter rings out again. “Twenty minutes? You think Imma be done with all this in twenty minutes? Nah, you better strap in, baby girl.”

Riri gives you no time to respond, finally taking your nipple in her mouth and biting down, hard. “Ahh,” you hiss out, pain mixing with pleasure. She’s quick to lick the same spot, washing away the sting it gave you. “Ooh, Ri.”

“I really like the way you say my shit. Say it again,”

You were never one to just obey like that. She was going to have to work for it.

Your lips stayed sealed and Riri’s expression dropped when she realized you weren’t gonna give in. “You not gon say my name, baby?”

Boldness ran through your veins (it was probably just the liquor). You fell from her lap, dropping onto the long bench seat underneath you. You wiggled the dress down past your hips, exposing your now fully naked body to the girl staring in awe above you. “Make me.”

Her golden chain glimmered in the passing headlights, swinging over you. Riri loved a good challenge and she was going to have fun taming that brat in you.

Ri grazes her hand down your slit, barely touching you, though her hand comes back soaked. “Damn, I got you like that?”

You groan at her touch, craving more than she was giving you. “Yeah, yeah, you got me like that.”

“You must want me then?” Her thumb is circling your swollen clit, drawing your back into an arch. Riri’s free hand slides underneath you, snaking the length of her arm around your waist, gripping you hard, and pulling you close.

“Y-yeah, I want you. I want you,” your cries were pathetic.

“You must not want me too bad, you can’t say my name.”

Ugh, her damn pettiness. It was no match for your stubbornness, though. You refused, saying once again, “Make me.”

“Oh, Imma put that ‘make me’ shit to rest.” Riri removed her hand from your bud.

“Are yo-ooh my God-” your smart-ass remark was silenced, Riri slipping two fingers straight into your wetness. They curved into you with ease, like they were meant to be there.

The way they pumped in and out of you was sinful. You splashed around her, clenching under her touch. “You nasty girl. Pulling me in like that.”

If she didn’t stop talking, you’d come undone right then and there. “Ahh,” you moaned out, chest heaving, bosom bouncing.

Your arms flail, wrapping around her neck and pulling her down, connecting your lips once again. This kiss is deep, more passionate. Riri sinks into your touch, slipping a third finger into you with ease.

The sudden rush of pleasure electrocutes you and you pull away from the girl with a cry. “Oh, Shit, Riri!”

A dry chuckle escapes her. “See, baby, how hard was that?”

The car door opens and shuts again, pulling Riri’s attention away from you. “What do you want?” she asks, though her fingers never let up. You should be concerned by the third presence, but the building of your orgasm is otherwise distracting.

“You in my car, fuck you mean what I want?” Shuri responds, climbing into the large vehicle.

Her accent sends a shiver down your spine, one that doesn’t go unnoticed by either girl. Ri adjusts her hand, those skilled fingers now reaching deeper than before. You can feel her and Shuri’s eyes on you as your juices splash back each time Riri thrusts.

The band in your stomach is tightening, threatening to snap. Your hands feel hollow, needing something to grab hold of as you come undone. Without thinking, they retreat to your breasts, your index finger taking place on your swollen nipples, pulling hard on them.

Riri’s demeanor is full of lust. This was just foreplay to her; she couldn’t wait to have you cum over and over again throughout the night. Shuri’s mouth watered at Riri’s hand buried deep in your pussy, biting her lip at how well you took them.

“Demethi (Damn),” Shuri’s gasped at the sight before her. Damn, her native tongue was sexy. Riri tried to shake off the effect it had on her, not wanting to lose focus of your impending orgasm. “Umenze cum, usana (Make her cum, baby).” It rolled off Shuri’s tongue with force, and whatever she said got Riri’s fingers twisting and thrusting in you at an inhumane speed.

“Shit, Ri, I’m cumming!” is what you were trying to say. The words came out slurred; your original intoxication amplified by the girl in front of you.

Riri just hummed a response, eyes fixated on the mess between your legs. Everything was wet; Shuri’s seats were for sure soaked.

The taller girl of the two chuckled as you squirted all over her luxury vehicle. The smaller one’s fingers never stopped, splashing your wetness everywhere with her tongue out, mouth wide open.

She didn’t pull away until your writhing stopped and your squirting subsided. Ri plopped onto the seat, reaching over to pull your limp body into her lap so that your legs wrapped around her waist.

You should have felt shy, maybe even ashamed, to have made the mess you did in Shuri’s car in front of her, but you didn’t. And she clearly didn’t feel bothered by it.

Shuri climbed into the spot you were previously in, adjacent to you and Riri, your back facing her as you buried your head into Riri’s neck. She rubbed small circles into your back. “You can take a second to catch your breath, but I’m not done with you yet.”

She turned to Shuri, an entirely different tone dripping from her words. “Nigga, what do you want? I’m busy.”

Shuri ignored the slur that came from Riri’s mouth with such ease. She leans forward, reaching for your resting frame but stopping short right before she makes contact with you. “Sithandwa sam (My love), is it okay if I touch you?” she asks gently.

You nod slowly, without lifting your head. She didn’t have to ask, but the fact that she did meant something to you.

“Use your words, usana. We do verbal consent around here.”

Wow, that meant so much more. “Y-yes. You can touch me. It’s okay.”

Her “Good girl” was dismissive but pleased. Within seconds, you were pulled away from Riri’s warm body and seated between Shuri’s legs, your back pressed to her clothed chest, your legs propped open by either of the Panther’s hands, exposing your still-sensitive wetness to the girl who caused it.

“You let her call you by your name, Ri?”

Call her by her name. What was she talking about?

Riri must’ve known because her jaw hardened, eyes set with annoyance.

Shuri brought her hand up to cup your chin, caressing it gently. “What’s your name, entle (beautiful)?”

She switched languages with ease and it sent your heart flying and your pussy throbbing. “Y/n,” you stated, leaning your head back to look into the gorgeous girl’s eyes.

Her smile down at you was oh-so-sexy. Shuri removed her hand from your face and dragged it down your body, stopping just inside your thigh.

“Where can I touch you, y/n?”

“Where ever you’d like, Shuri.”

Darkness flashes behind her gaze. Her hand leaves your thigh, brushing gently over your clit, causing you to jump. “Can I touch you here, y/n? Can I touch your clit?”

Her fingers continue to brush over the bud, never applying pressure and touching so slowly, it's torture. “Y-yes.”

Shuri’s brows raise. She’s expecting more. “Yes, Shuri. You can touch my clit.”

“Good girl.”

She massages the little button, picking up speed until you’re a moaning mess squirming in her lap.

“Y/n,”

“Ahhh,” is the only response you give so Shuri tries again, easing up on her movements enough to leave you coherent.

“Y/n, answer me when I’m talking to you, baby.”

Damn, these two were fucking filthy. It’s like they wanted you to cum off their words alone.

“Y-yes, Shuri?”

“Yeah, baby, let’s fix that.” She grips your chin with her free hand. The hand playing with your pussy regains its original speed, causing you to jump and try to writhe away. “Uh-uh. Sit still. Take it like you was before. Look at me,” Shuri commands.

It only takes her telling you once. When your eyes reach hers, they seem so gentle, so kind, a stark contrast to how she was treating your cunt at the moment.

“Forget my name. Act like you never knew that shit.”

Your brows furrow in confusion, but any attempts at speech turn up empty. She leans close to you, and you notice the grills on her bottom row again, as well as two on her upper, only on her canines.

Oh, this bitch better bite you at some fucking point tonight.

“I’m daddy,” Shuri growls and you sink into her body, melting at her vernacular. “Understand, baby?”

You make the mistake of nodding first, catching yourself quickly. “Yes,” you correct.

“Yes, what?”

“Y-yes, daddy.”

“Good girl,” Shuri drawls, slipping one long, slender finger into your center.

“Shittt.” Your eyes begin to roll at the pleasure until Shuri administers a light tap on your cheek.

“Uh-uh, usana. Not done yet. Open them pretty eyes for me. Riri, come here.”

Ri is still seated across from you, eyes glued to your pussy collecting juices, wanting nothing more than to taste them. She doesn’t move when Shuri calls.

“Riri, apha, ngoku (Riri, here, now).” This command comes out sharper and Riri does as she’s told, but not without a grumble or two.

She slides closer to you, hands caressing your thighs as Shuri pumps into you with no mercy.

“Y/n, look at Ri.”

When you do, Shuri adds another finger as your reward. Riri almost cums from the sight of you alone, body soaked with sweat and cum and they were just getting started with you.

“You don’t know her name no more either. It’s ma. She’ll also accept mamas or mami, spelled with an I to be exact.”

Riri smirks at Shuri’s callback to their earlier conversation. She leans her face closer to yours, gaze flashing from your lips to your eyes and back.

“Understood?” Ri’s deeper voice husks.

“Yes, mamas,” you whisper, praying that Riri will kiss you and kiss you hard.

The ‘good girl’ comes in unison this time and Ri sits back, much to your dismay. She watches you for another moment before stripping, pulling the black hoodie over her head, followed by her sports bra, but leaving the chain.

She gets up to remove her sweatpants as you and Shuri watch. “Shoulda took all that shit off before you made her cum the first time. Those shits were expensive.”

Riri’s wet core is exposed by the time she opens her mouth to respond to the Princess. “Man shut the hell up.”

The two of them talk amongst each other as though you aren’t a babbling mess, growing close to your second orgasm.

Shuri’s smirk reappears, “Yeah, it's that pretty mouth right there we fixing next, aren’t we, y/n?”

You can’t respond, your orgasm is on the brink. Your gasps and moans are closer together, more high-pitched, and both girls grow wetter at your lewd sounds.

Riri drops to her stomach, face to face with your wet pussy, glistening in your juices. She looks to Shuri with a question burning behind her eyes. Shuri picks up on it and nods, turning to face you, quickening her already furious speed. “Can Riri taste you, baby?”

The thought of Riri’s tongue on your most sensitive area made you jump. “Y-yes, God, yes, ma, taste me, eat me, fucking lap me up.”

Did that string of dirty words just come from your mouth? It did indeed, and Riri’s mouth was on you immediately after. Shuri pulled her fingers away and Ri’s tongue replaced it, stiffening and entering you, licking every inch of your cunt.

The sounds she made were so unholy, slurping like it was her last meal. She stayed away from your clit, not wanting you to cum yet, though her nose continued to brush it lightly. “Damn, Ri, look at you go,” Shuri whispered, her fingers now focused on twisting and gently tugging at the piercings in your nipples.

Look at her go. She was a fucking munch, flattening her tongue to lick as much of you as she could. You whined and whimpered under her, gyrating your hips, attempting to grind your clit against the girl.

She picked up on your movements and gave in, encapsulating your clit in her lips and sucking lightly. The moment her tongue flicked your bean, you came undone, squirting without warning. Your juices coated Riri’s face, but there she stayed, mouth wide open, drinking you in. She stayed that way until you finished, coming up with a dripping face. Ri coughed slightly, trying to catch her breath after drowning beneath you.

Shuri suppressed a giggle. “I told you, you take that shit like a bitch.”

“I’m getting real fucking sick of you-” Riri doesn’t even get to finish her sentence. Shuri slips from behind you and makes her way to Ri, pushing the girl down so she's laying in your wetness.

“Oh, are you? Ight, let’s fix that. Y/n, usana, come here, please,”

The way she speaks to you and the way she speaks to Riri is entirely different. It takes a lot to will your body to move, but you do, not wanting to disobey Shuri.

“You got one more nut in you, baby girl?”

Now it’s your turn to smirk, the urge to please the Princess at the front of your mind. “Only one?”

Shuri beams at your words. “Good fucking girl, baby. Can you do something for me then?”

You nod and Shuri’s brow raises. Right, verbal consent. “Yes, daddy.”

Another good girl is your reward. You’re starting to like the praise. “Sit on Ri’s face for me, baby.”

Oh, she didn’t have to tell you twice. That tongue was heaven and while she talked a big game, you couldn’t wait to see her come undone. “Yes, daddy,” you mew, crawling over to an awaiting Riri. She says nothing to you as you take place, hovering your pussy right over her awaiting mouth.

Riri’s hands grip your hips roughly and bring your cunt all the way down. “She said sit, not hover,” Ri mumbles, words muffled by your fat lips around hers.

“Yes, ma,” you moan as her tongue presses firmly to your clit.

Your hands fly out to her torso, scratching and squeezing, attempting to steady yourself. In front of you, Shuri pulls Riri’s legs apart, taking her place between them. She brings her face close to yours, stopping just short of your lips. “Can I kiss you, baby?”

“No,” Riri’s muffled cry comes from underneath you. Shuri raises her hand, dropping it back to administer a gentle slap to Ri’s cunt. “Eat, Ri. Your mouth is your damn problem as is.”

“Y/n, baby girl, can I kiss you?”

Your nods are furious, so quick they make you dizzy. “Y-yes. You c-can kiss me, d-daddy,” you stutter. Riri’s tongue beneath you is doing something heavenly to your clit.

Shuri smiles, happy at your obedience. It’s a breath of fresh air compared to Riri’s usual defiance. When her soft lips finally touch yours, you sink into the feel.

“Oh, my God,” you moan against her mouth, eyes shut, overwhelmed by both girls’ mouths. The chill of Shuri’s grill sends a shiver down your spine and Riri’s hands creep to your thighs to hold you in place.

Shuri bites your bottom lip when she pulls away, her canines sinking into your flesh. The sudden pain brings forth a moan you didn’t know you were capable of producing.

When your eyes flutter back open, they peer at Shuri, seated between Riri’s legs, fingers toying with her dripping lips. “You lucky I left the strap at home.”

Mhm, the girl moans underneath you, sending vibrations straight through your center. Without warning, Shuri pushes two fingers into Riri, bringing forth more moans from the girl, followed by your own.

“Damn, my girls sound so good for me,” Shuri’s proud voice rings as she inserts a third finger into Ri. She’s so wet, it slips in with ease.

As soon as both Shuri and Riri are adjusted, the thrusts begin, the sound of skin slapping echoing in the dark vehicle. Beneath you, Ri’s pretty, round tits bounce at Shuri’s force, giving you such a show, you’re afraid you’ll drown the poor girl.

Shuri is fucking Ri with much more vigor than she fucked you with. When it came to you, her thrusts were calculated and gentle. Furious and deep, but still, very clearly skilled. Riri was receiving thrusts that were sloppy and hard, reaching further into her than Shuri had with you. And the way Riri took it was delicious.

The part in her legs widened, giving Shuri better access. Her licks to you grew sloppy, allowing you to grind into her face to chase your high.

“Ooh, big girl, Ri. Big fucking girl. Squeeze on my fingers, just like that,” Shuri cooed praises that had you coming close, despite them not being directed at you.

She hadn’t forgotten you, though. Shuri watched your grip on Ri tighten, your moans climbed octaves. You sounded angelic. “Y/n, my pretty girl. You’re doing so well, sithandwa sam.”

“A-ah,” your mouth fell open, ecstasy swelling within you.

“Don’t cum yet, okay baby? Hold it for me.”

Hold it? It was right there; you were so close to release. “D-daddy, I can’t.”

“You can. I know you can. Wait, just a minute or two.”

Hmmm, you whined, attempting to hold back the cum that was already leaking from your folds.

Shuri adjusted her hold on Riri’s core, adding a fourth and final finger and thrusting hard. You felt Ri grow tense in your hold, stomach tightening. She was close and Shuri wanted the two of you to cum together.

With each grind, you squirted just a little, struggling to hold back the floodgates any longer. “Sh-daddy,” you quickly correct yourself. “I’m gonna cum. I-I’m cumming.”

Riri barely got a word out before your juices overcame her. You came hard on Ri, screams possessing you as you did.

Riri’s own liquids began to leak from her center around Shuri’s fingers. “You better fucking not,” Shuri threatened, not losing her speed in Ri’s cunt.

Her whimpers beneath you were pitiful and she writhed as your orgasm finally subsided. Your exhausted body slumped over in the wet seats. Riri was right behind you, unable to hold it any longer. “Sh-Shuri-”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, baby. Go ahead.”

With that, Riri’s little body convulsed, finally releasing everything she’d built up. She rode her big O out on Shuri’s fingers, body going limp when she finished.

The Princess removed her hand from Ri’s swollen pussy, bringing them to her lips and plunging them into her mouth for a taste. Mm, she hummed. “You taste good, as always. You finally got that mouth in check?”

Riri could barely nod in response, letting out a breathy “Y-yeah.”

“Good. Gimme a kiss?”

“Y-yeah,” she said again, prompting Shuri to bring her lips to Riri’s and give her a slow, tender kiss.

“You know you my forever Valentine, Ri. You did good. I know you done for the night, gon ahead and rest.”

Shuri turned, settling her eyes on you. “Y/n.”

“Y-yes, daddy?”

She crawled over and wrapped you in her arms. Pulling you into her lap, she planted gentle kisses across your face.

“You came?”

“Y-yes, daddy…”

Mhm, she hummed. “I thought I told you to hold it.”

Shit, she had. You stay silent, awaiting her next move. She shifts slightly, placing you on the seat and throwing one leg over yours, aligning your clits.

“Can you give me one more? Last one, baby, I promise.”

You were spent, your body exhausted, but you were sure you could. “Yes, daddy. I got one more in me.”

“Good girl, y/n. You’re such a good fucking girl for me. Go ahead, make a mess on me the same way you did on Ri, okay?”

She kisses her bud against yours, not allowing you anytime to answer. The motion of her hips is intoxicating. You throw your head back, grabbing at her leg to steady yourself.

“Gah, damnnn.”

“Ooh, yeah. Talk to me, baby. Let me hear that pretty ass voice.”

How could you say no when she asked so sweetly? “Shit feels so fucking good, daddy.”

“What, baby? What feels good?”

She wanted you to be vulgar, and it would be a new territory for you to explore, but you were open and willing. “Y-your clit, daddy. Your clit on mine. It feels so fucking good. I’m so fucking sensitive.”

Mm, Shuri responded. “Are you gonna squirt on me, baby? Flood my shit?”

Most of the mess in her car was caused by you; there was no point in holding back. You wanted to make Shuri proud, to do what she asked. Your movements sped up, a buzzing running through your clit and sending shivers through the rest of you. It didn’t take long for you to come close, so, so close.

Slick formed beneath the friction you and Shuri produced. “Ahh, y-you gonna cum, baby?” she asked, stutters forming at her own impending release.

“I-I’m gonna cum, Yeah, daddy, I’m gonna cum.”

Shuri flicks your bejeweled bosom. “Yeah, go ahead, baby. Cum for me.”

Obedience is your repertoire when it comes to Shuri and you do as you’re told, liquid splashing between your still-humping forms.

Shuri’s orgasm follows close behind, mixing your juices. Her teeth grit, giving you another look at those gold adornments in her mouth.

You certainly don’t have any more left in you. Your body goes limp, sinking into Shuri’s lap, which she welcomes with open arms.

“Hey, Ri,” she calls out.

Hmm? Riri responds without looking up.

“I like this one,” Shuri’s fingers are running through your hair as you settle in, sleep threatening to overtake you.

Mhm, Ri hums. “Me too.”

“Thinking we better make her ours before somebody else snatch her up.”

#quintessencewrites #black panther smut #smut #shuri x reader #riri x reader #riri williams x reader #riri #shuriri #letitia wright shuri #princess shuri #queen shuri #riri x shuri #long reads #black panther x reader #riri williams #dominique thorne #dominique thorne riri williams #18+#18+ smut

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hearteyes-for-killmonger · 6 months

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Hood Nigga Deluxe 2

Fontaine × Black Reader

Part 1

Idea: You fell underneath the warmth of a self-proclaimed hood nigga for Spooky Szn and you've got a big secret that he doesn't know and you can't tell him.

Tags: smut, betrayal, date activity, spooky szn, smoking, blood play, dark romance

You're oversleeping a Saturday morning away when the obnoxiously booming bass of a familiar song explodes from car speakers, effectively waking you up. There goes Fontaine's annoying ass subwoofers disturbing the peace. Groggy, you throw your feet to the floor and get yourself together with minimal basic hygiene and a basic ass fit.

"You aint call, my nigga?" Falling into the passenger seat, you're a little agitated and still tired.

"Something came up."

You know what that means. It's some chitty chitty bang bang hood shit that you don't wanna be looped into.

"But I've got a few hours. You up for that shit we talked about?"

You kiss your teeth, mood lifting. "Yeah nigga..."

The ride out has a flow. You gotta pass the densely packed urban areas to get to the more rural developments where there are actually trees and grass. The country road lined with tall and vivid green trees on both sides brings you great peace. You feel like a giddy child, the closer to the destination you get.

"It's a different world outside here," you sigh, taking in all the greenery as he parks in an open lot surrounded by fields.

He turns the car off along with Lil Baby. Almost immediately, he's reaching in the glove compartment, pushing aside the black and milds and going under the gun for the backwoods cigarillos and weed.

You ignore the five wads of cash banded up as he closes the compartment and starts assembling a blunt, his expert fingers wrapping quickly.

"I can't believe we're going apple picking," you smile in disbelief. "Doesn't this go against your natural programming as a self-proclaimed hood nigga?"

"I'm not the activity type if that's what you mean," he mutters.

"It is. Why you don't ever ride out to get away from the bullshit? You got a whole car."

He takes a pull, and your mouth nearly waters, knowing exactly how it feels and what it tastes like. He passes it, giving you your moment.

"I stay where I know people."

You blow your smoke as you nod, fully understanding. "Not that there's anything wrong with that... but that's why you have me to broaden your horizons. We ain't finna get turnt at an orchard, but we can have fun, forget being broke or having responsibilities for a lil while, let the magic take over."

"Magic," he echoes.

"Magic," your fingers spread and wiggle.

The orchard doesn't disappoint. There are apples EVERYWHERE. In the trees, different kinds of trees. On the ground, making it hard to find spots near the trees to walk by. They're yellow and green for the most part and beautiful. Real and natural gmo free apples. Families are scattered with kids playing in the crisp air. Fontaine gravitates to a grove of ripe red ones where he bites into one fresh from the vine. You follow suite enjoying one of the most fresh, crunchy, sweet, and juicy tasting apples you've ever had.

"I'm still confused on how you eat."

You take another big bite. "Food is a comfort. I eat it for the feeling and the taste like chewing gum, but blood is that premium. It's got the nutrients and vitamins that a growing girl needs."

"You probably need a fix right now."

"You offering?"

"Yeah. Come here," he pulls down the bulky lining of his hoodie, revealing your go-to spot.

You rest a light hand on his shoulder and squeeze as you sink your teeth into the designated area of skin, careful not to drip or spill the earthy and metalic juice of life. He's used to the impact, and you're starting to think that he likes the little nibble of pain. Getting your dose for the moment, you keep in mind the environment. Y'all are in the middle of a grove among families. Young love in the air is cute, but you can't go too far. You lick your lips clear of blood as you pull back to wipe the corners of your lips.

"You ever thought you'd be dealing blood?" You smirk and start walking, knowing damn well you're his first.

"It's not really dealing if I don't get paid."

"I offered to pay you."

"Don't nobody want ya lil dingy money."

You giggle softly and the two of you walk together with a basket, picking up and pulling pretty apples to take home.

But first, you find the stands offering apple everything.

"There are two different kinds of hot apple cider, Fontaine. Did you know there was more than one apple cider? I thought apple cider was apple cider." You get a cup of both for comparison's sake. "Why am I the guinea pig when my favorite flavor is metal... this one," you raise the left cup.

That's the one he tries as you watch to see if he likes it. He shrugs.

"At least you tried it."

Interestingly enough, he finishes it and ends up getting more. It must be growing on him the more he tastes it.

"That was fun," you exclaim, once back in the car with the apples, applesauce, apple butter, and apple juice in the back. "Would you do it again next year?"

"Hm," he sighs.

"Don't bullshit me, Fontaine."

"Yeah, I'll come back."

You smile wide in a close-lipped show of high cheeks. "Where to?"

"I got a couple.. things to take care of so I can drop you home."

"That works. Stay safe. Try not to do anything too reckless."

You settle into your bed with your eyemask and chill genre playlist on bluetooth to serenade you to sleep. You're out before you know it but wake up to your ringing cell that's charging at your head.

"Hello?" It's 5:49 AM. Who the fuck. "Fontaine?" You listen, your heart dropping. He sounds pissed beyond belief. You've never heard him like this, so animatedly aggrieved. He's usually so nonchalant. "Slow down, what are you saying?" He's in a full meltdown. "I'm coming," you promise, getting up immediately.

"Shit," you pace, "Shit shit shit. Not now." It was only a matter of time, but still. You weren't ever looking forward to addressing this. You're not ready. Still, you make your way over to the apartment he shares with his mother. The apartment door is unlocked and ajar. "Fontaine?" You look around. There's a shattered glass in the hall like it's been thrown with water or something in it.

His mother's bedroom door is wide open.

You gulp, walking nearer. He's inside, sitting on the floor against the wall staring at the lonely record player that plays the voice of his 'mother' in the center of an empty room... This is the point where he realizes she doesn't exist.

"You know something about this," he accuses suddenly, making you a little defensive. Your hackles come up.

"What are you saying?"

"You walked in here looking guilty without an ounce of confusion..."

"That doesn't mean I'm not just as confused. What's going on?"

"What's going on?" He's quietly seething, staring daggers into you.

You feel like shrinking. You feel like confessing and begging for forgiveness, but you aren't sure how much he really knows...

Until he pulls out the inch-thick instruction manual. It's the nail in the coffin. He tilts his head, like you can but the bullshit because he knows it all. "You feel like talking now?"

"Fontaine..."

He flings the manual across the room, missing you on purpose by a thin margin.

You take a deep breath. "I didn't want you to find out this way. I wanted you to live a normal life like anyone.. with dignity."

"Dignity? What dignity? You telling me I ain't fuckin real? My memories? My mama? My brother? None of that is real," he questions, his mind and soul visibly broken through the window of his eyes. "I don't exist," he wonders, moreover to himself.

It's trippy, you understand, but you could never give him the empathy and understanding he deserves because he's right.

"I'll tell you anything you want to know," you whisper, keeping your distance for his comfort and sanity.

"What am I?"

"You're Fontaine. You'll always be Fontaine. But technically, you're an AI Intimacy Partner specially designed on request... You're not the only AI IP, but you are the only Fontaine because you were made for me."

"For you?" He stares, his thoughts going wild as he puts everything together in his mind.

"You're-- what they call the hood nigga deluxe. The company that created you, set up this apartment for you based on the memories and habits they programmed you with. They said not to let you open that door," you point.

"And the blood?"

You sigh. "Customization." You had them fill him with Type O blood like a giant juice box, and it seemed funny at the time, but you didn't expect him to be so lifelike. You regularly forgot he was AI.

"So what am I, your personal blood bag?" You can hear the disgust and betrayal. It stings.

"This wasn't what I wanted. I wanted you to be happy on your own with or without me. It's why I paid so much money upfront and in insurance when I had you designed from scratch. Every detail of you was meticulous. You were built based on my ideal type and description of perfection." He even pays for himself by 'working' and paying his own rent, supporting himself.

It's no good, you see it though in his face. That's a face of hatred. He will NEVER deal with you after this, and he's mid identity crisis. You don't know WHAT he'll do, and honesty, you're a little scared about it. Not that he could really hurt you, you being immortal, but he could try, and he could do damage to himself.

You leave without a fight when he asks you to, knowing what you need to do. It wasn't included in the handbook for this very reason, but you have the company contact number in your phone contacts and a pre-agreed upon guarantee that they'll come out as soon as possible to fix things if you put in a request via their help line. That's what you do.

They finally come out 3 days later, and by that time, Fontaine is gone. You haven't heard from him, and the apartment is empty.

"Thanks for nothing. He's gone now," you grouch, pissed at their delay. They don't take it personally, of course, they don't give a fuck about your emotions.

"Not quite," they say, setting up a laptop to show you GPS points on a map. "All of our models come with an embedded homing chip that lets us know their location in case of situations such as you described. We retrieve them, wipe recent history with a gentle reset, and bring them back to you. That's what your insurance does."

You sit up, feeling relief but also kinda terrible. "You're telling me he won't remember?"

"Nope. Nothing within the past 6 months."

It's another hit in the gut. "That means he won't remember the good either or anything we did, the talks we had?" It breaks your heart. You hold all those moments special, but it'll be as if they never happened. You'll be starting over practically.

"It's a steep trade, but at least he'll be in your life again."

You wanna slap him for being so casual about it. He doesn't understand how hard it is. You grew to love Fontaine and he was falling for you in a natural and humane way. You don't want that changed, but it's already been changed. "This is hard," you whimper, wanting to cry a little bit, but you can't just leave things as they are. Fontaine is stubborn, and once he hates you, he hates you. You made him that way.

An alert says that he's been located outside of the city, and developers are seizing him.

"What do you want us to do," the rep asks, waiting on you to answer him ad he re-gathers his things to leave your home. You cover your eyes, feeling like a traitor to your own man.

"Do it. Wipe him."

For the next six hours, you wait anxiously waiting for an update. They're supposed to fix him. An update comes that night with a generic ass thank you for your business message attached through email. You visit Fontaine's apartment immediately, knocking on the door.

He opens it slowly, watching you as you stare up at him, praying and hoping...

"Fontaine?"

"What's the problem? Come in the house," he backs up, letting you in to get you our the hall. You look around subtly seeing everything cleaned up and his 'mother's' room door closed. You smell backwoods and weed and his fresh, clean scent. There's a blunt between his fingers.

"I just--I had a bad dream," you lie, pinching the extra fabric of his sleeve. "You were in it."

"You dreamin' bout me now?" There's interest there in his expression, no longer the hatred that was emanating through him like electricity. It's almost unsettling.

You approach him somewhat sideways, still feeling him out. "Fontaine, what's something you've always wanted to do on Halloween that you haven't done?"

He hesitates, confused at the sudden change in direction, but considers your question. "I'm not a Halloween nigga."

"Would you go apple picking with me," you test, looking for any sign of memory, but he looks flabbergasted.

"Apple picking?"

"Yes."

"Do I look like a nigga that go apple-picking?"

You withhold your reaction, stealing his blunt to calm your nerves. It's bittersweet that he doesn't remember. You sit on his couch and call him to sit beside you as you rest your head on his shoulder, then test your hand on his lap, going into the waistband of his striped grey sweatpants.

He gently pauses you.

"Do you want me to stop," you meet his eyes to ask.

"Nah... I don't mind. I just wanted to see what you'd do."

"Stop of course." You proceed with his consent, squeezing and rubbing his dick to encourage the blood flow. It hardens bit by bit, growing as you touch it. He leans back enjoying it while you smoke simultaneously.

"Come with me back to my place so we can do it without your mama hearing us," you whisper.

"You know what time it is?" He takes the blunt back for a quick pull.

"I don't care." You take the blunt back again from his fixed fingers to puff, leaning in close to blow gently up his nostrils. His head remains invitingly still as your lips linger inches from his, ghosting close enough for him to feel you breathing.

"How you breathe when you vampire," he whispers, legit curiosity meeting lust. You bite his bottom lip.

"Reflex. It's just something I'm used to doing. Kind of like sucking dick. I kinda just do it."

"Show me," his eyes command, but you leave him dry and hanging, standing up, ready to go.

"Come over, and I will."

"So tell me about this nightmare," Fontaine says as he parts your legs by the knees and lifts them by the ankles and calves, lowering his head to your inner thigh to kiss around your panties.

"It was enough to scare me," you sigh. "I dreamed you'd left. No text, no goodbye, just abandoned me."

"Why would I do that?"

"You'd better not," you respond, feeling the familiar motions of him going down on you. He hasn't forgotten that, thankfully. There's a ton he hasn't forgotten, and you have to look on the bright side of that. You just have to train him again, a tiny bit.

"I'm not going anywhere," he confirms.

"Then fuck me like you're not ever leaving me. Don't be fragile."

It's all you needed to say for him to up the ante. He didn't forget how to fuck. You dig your fingers into his back as he pounds into you missionary-style with your legs around his waist. It's good enough for a night where your mind isn't where it could be.. which is present.

Fontaine lays in your bed as you think, his bicep cupping your head comfortably as the big spoon.

"You've been off since you showed up at my door tonight. What's really going on," he asks suddenly.

You swallow your emotions and go for asking the question you've been building since you knocked on his door. Him flipping out was rough. You don't want that again. You need him far away from that forbidden room. It's the only way you'll have peace and go back to normal.

"I've been wanting to ask you something really big." You look up to eyeball Fontaine. He looks at ease, half sleep, but still alert. "It's a pretty big thing."

"So ask," he smirks.

It's not that simple. Nothing is that simple.

You decide to rip the bandaid off and just say it. "I want you to move in with me."

He coughs suddenly, lifting to sit up, his brow raised. "I don't know."

"I do... Ain't you cramped over there?

He nods.

" Exactly. You'd have way more space here to live and move."

"Eh.... I'll run it by my mama."

"Mama? Fontaine... Do you need her permission? Just move in with me! We'll split the rent."

He smirks, giving you the low side-eye. "I'll think about it."

"Think about it," you reiterate because if he's with you, that means he can't open that damned fantasy running bedroom door.

"I'll think about it," he says again, stern like he's done with the topic.

You sigh, knowing you have to let it go and remain ready for the worst. That emotional explosion wasn't how you saw the relationship turning. You're still hurt for him and harboring those feelings, though he doesn't remember a thing.

Or does he...

"I won't forgive you," he says suddenly, his turned turned away in the shadow of the room. "But I understand now what I am and what I'm here for."

"Fontaine," you bolt upright in bed, alone and in daylight. It's the middle of the afternoon on Sunday. You've been sleeping hard as fuck and having thee worst nightmare that Fontaine actually found out the truth you've been hiding from him all this time. Thankfully, it was only a nightmare, but it was realistic enough to truly shake you into preventative measures. You have to get him outta that apartment and with you in yours where you can protect him from what he doesn't know.

You call him immediately and he answers.

"Yeah, what's going on?"

"Fontaine, come see me when you free. I wanna ask you something, but I wanna ask you in person."

"Ard.. I'll be there sometime around 5-5:30."

"Cool," you hang up, leaving your bed for some air. That nightmare fucked you up.

The End.

@dashhoney25 @lettidarawest @soufcakmistress @ljstraightnochaser @princessstevens-blog @eye-raq @thiccdaddy-mbaku @destinio1 @iamrheaspeaks @hidden-treasures21 @bidibidibombaclaat @forbeautyandlife @blowmymbackout @misspooh @thotyana-in-this-hoe @purplehairgawdess @thegucciwaffle @goddessofthundathighs @theegoldenchild @thadelightfulone @sultanabby @mysticalblackhottie @baekhyunbabybunni @fd-writes @richonne4life @goldieccentric @thehomierobbstark @capswife @blackpinup22 @harleycativy @lishabaybeee-blog @playgurlxoxo @beaut1fulone-blog @blackerthings @syndrlla97 @ladymac82 @browngirldominion @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @uzumaki-rebellion

#original #they cloned tyrone fanfiction #fontaine #fontaine they cloned tyrone #they cloned tyrone fic #black fanfiction #black fanfic writer

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charliesgoodboy · 7 months

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2023 B. KAULITZ☆

love is a waste of time

i gave you all of mine

love is a waste of time

all nigga's do is lie

love is a waste of time(waste of time)

song: . . . LOVE IS A WASTE OF TIME lovely peaches

TW: soft sex, leaning sub bill(but he is still topping), male leaning reader as well(fem still welcome), bill's absolutely luscious nails, bill will be the only person i will right for in current time(until he finds someone and that is where i will end my life), drunk sex, i almost cried writing this what

BILL KAULITZ who would sit and drink with you, light drink but still strong enough to get you drunk if you drank enough. the outside of where the two of you stayed had the sun setting and the room a type of soft mixed color that had an indescribable feeling and touch to it.

BILL KAULITZ who would have his hair tied back in a low ponytail, a bit of the curls he put in stayed as his nails would clink from time to time on the glass as the two of you shared conversation, as in catching up a little. he wouldn't break eye contact with you for a moment, letting your words really sink in— listening to how they would slur after each sip and refill.

BILL KAULITZ whose hand would end up being in yours, his thumb moving back and forth softly nodding from time to time his eye lids hooding a little, laughing quietly watching your eyes flicker back and forth from his. his fingers trailing up tickling your sides watching as you'd laugh along with him before the two of you would realize how close you were getting.

BILL KAULITZ who would place his lips on yours, both of his hands now on your hips the soft touch making you feel safe and happy as the kiss would be returned. the taste of the bitter sweet liquid shared between the two of you as he'd tilt his head your smile not going unnoticed when your hands would pull him closer simply just to feel him more it felt like a fever dream.

BILL KAULITZ who'd lean into your neck, breathing in deeply as he'd guide your hips up and down small whimpers being heard next your ear as you'd moan out in pleasure, your arms wrapped around his neck his hair giving you a familiar feeling against the skin of your arm. his lips only now kissing against your neck, not leaving any heavy marks but it still felt amazing the feeling could only be a one time thing is what you could explain it as. god, you'd have to be one lucky person.

#tokio hotel smut #tokio hotel x reader #tokio hotel x male reader #tokio hotel bill kaulitz #bill kaulitz fluff #bill kaulitz x reader #bill kaulitz smut #bill kaulitz x male reader #bill kaulitz x you

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solitude4chiron · 11 months

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I.Visiting a friend

Hobie brown x Black reader

A/n: No smut in this fic but there will be multiple parts later 🤫

———————————————————————— The summer is the best time to be outside in New York. Water balloon fights, pool party’s, blocks playing music that filled the city, crop tops and bikinis. It was like this since you were little, and undeniably there’s no place like home

Tonight you and your friends were cramped in a small hot bathroom doing makeup, hair & all of the above for a party. One girl doing lashes, one girl doing her lip liner, one girl doing her nails & another taking pictures and controlling the playlist

“Y’all my nigga just texted me to come on so let’s start heading out” one of your other girlfriends shouted from in the living room, and after a few minutes everyone was in the car taking videos and lip syncing music for tonight’s ig story

By the time you walked in you were already unamused. Hood niggas standing in the corner on their phones, other dudes trying to get behind girls and failing miserably, groups of people who looked half awake still trying to dance. So you fell behind and sat at the bar listening to other people’s conversations when a different boy caught your eye

A tall 6,5 darkskin was sitting on the complete opposite side of the bar on his phone, his wicks were slightly short, and laid down his head that made them shaped almost like an Afro. His jewelry and piercings caught your attention, silver jewelry lining his eyebrows and fingers. Plus the way he dressed was so attractive, different from almost everyone else in the room

While admiring his beauty a airdrop came through your phone with the name “unknowns iPhone” curiously you accepted it

“Y’kno it’s rude to stare right?”

And while trying to figure out who the person was you felt a shadow towering over you before he sat down

“You like whatcha seeing yeah?”

“Don’t get too ahead of yourself lil nigga who is you?”

“C’mon y’kno who I am, your eyes were burning holes in my jacket. Plus nothing ‘bout me is little and I know you can tell” he replied smirking resting his head on his hand to look at your features more closely

Immediately you could tell he wasn’t from New York at all by his voice, and though you had made fun of some British accents before. Something about his skin and voice in the dark lighting made him so attractive to you

“Sooo you from?” You said feeling your cheeks getting hot, the aggressiveness in your voice vanished

“New York love, why?”

“Boy your not from New York don’t play wit me right now” you said rolling your eyes

“Yea, I’m from London. Visiting a friend out here right now. Want a drink?”

You both ordered drinks and he said his name was Hobie. You each talked for a minute on each others interests, allowing you both to have a flourishing conversation because surprisingly you both had a lot in common. He had piercings, you did too. You both loved music, spray painting your art and opinions on every wall in your city, and you both also shared love for different types accessories and clothing

After about an hour he asked if you wanted to go to another spot, just you and him. Your heart slightly froze in anxiety but there was some type of safety in his eyes. So you texted the group chat

“Hey y’all, met this boy at the bar and he wants to take me to another spot. Keep y’all ringers on”

“Okay girllll !!! Is he fine 🌚”

“Leaving us to get some dick is crazyyyy 😒”

You hopped into his car and listened to the music while hanging your head out the window. You felt a hand on your thigh and you looked at him kind of surprised. You brushed it off when you realized you didn’t mind it at all in the first place

“Problem luv?” He side eyed you while biting the side of his lip down, focused on the road

“Nahhh you chillin” you felt his large hand start creeping higher and higher up your thigh while he kept his other hand on the wheel speeding up every time you looked at him. By the time you felt like saying something bold, you were at the spot that wasn’t really a spot. You were at the Brooklyn bridge

“Boy this is not no spot we are on a bridge wtf”

“You trust me?” And before you could say anything he was carrying you in one hand wedding style using his other hand to shoot webs, bringing you to the top of the bridge

After the rush of literally flying through the air went away. You asked him a few questions

“What was that?!!”

“Why is there white stuff coming out your arms?”

And before you could ask him your last question he made a stupid joke

“I can make white stuff come out of somewhere else y’kno” he smirked

After smacking him on the back of the head you asked him your last question

“What made you want to tell me you have super powers? Especially like that..”

After seeing you shivering in your mini tee and skirt, he wrapped his large, heavy pin decorated vest around you and pulled you into his chest with his arm as you both watched the city. Light was escaping from every street. You also realized you probably wouldn’t have experienced seeing this in a lifetime if you didn’t meet him

“Don’t know, there’s something about you I kno’ I can love and take care of. So I’m not sweatin the spider man role right now” he said shrugging then resting his head on yours and playing in the curly ends of your locs

“You lucky you fine, I would have never even left the bar with any other boy” you said drawing along his stomach and chest feeling how chiseled he was under his shirt

“Just so you kno we date now” he said

“Boy your stupid it’s only been a few hours” you responded laughing and swinging your feet over the edge of the bridge

“I’m stupid? Yet your running your hands all over my body, yeah right”

Not realizing what you were doing you moved your hands immediately away from him a little shocked at what you were doing

“I didn’t tell you to stop now did I?”

#hobie brown x reader #hobie spiderverse #atsv hobie #spider punk x reader #spider punk #hobie brown x black reader

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shuinami · 8 months

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Part 3: How to write an MLE-based London accent authentically

Part 1: Who, What (London Accents) | Part 2: When, Where, Why (Black Londoner Culture since Windrush)

As I conclude this little guide, I'd like mention that my ask box and DMs are always open if anyone has further questions or anything 🤎

In this section, I'll go over some advice, the grammar and vocabulary and provide some suggestions for references.

Section A: Basic Tips

When to use slang

The concentration of slang is key to differentiating characters as well as writing an accent authentically. As an MLE-based speaker who is not actually a roadman (meaning a gangster, though many people misuse the term to refer to anyone who uses MLE, especially if they are working class), like most of us, Hobie does not utterly kill it with slang that would likely not be understandable to the people he’s with. There are a lot of phrases and idioms/metaphors that seem self-explanatory once you know what they mean or that seem similar to Americanisms (e.g. roadman = street/hood nigga), but of course, as someone who doesn’t use the terms, hearing it in passing, it probably wouldn’t be understandable, despite the speaker thinking it is.

Coming from a diverse place, often with immigrant parents who don’t even speak English as a first language, if fluently at all (not in the case of most black Caribbeans from former British colonies, but remember Asians and Africans are more plentiful here), trust me, we know what we sound like 😂! Most of us code-switch, as we learn standard English in school and, until more recently, where more people are 3rd gen+ immigrants as opposed to 2nd, we actually tend to pick up MLE slang from experiences outside the home as we grow up. At the same time, some people really don’t care at all and don’t change how they speak for anyone haha. I don’t recommend trying to write code-switching if you’re not extremely familiar with MLE because you’ll probably lose the flow and also, Hobie only eases up a little bit after his intro.

My point is though, that not every single sentence needs to have slang in it. Most should, but if you’re trying to be serious or sexy, for example, and you feel the need to tack on some slang just to convey Bri’ishness, even if it doesn’t really fit, don’t do it cause it’s no more authentic than just writing plain English in those scenarios.

When talking to people from his own dimension, however, slang it up if you’d like, because the expectation would be that a (working class or ethnic) Londoner would understand him.

For humour, mocking and teasing, we love to use slang because a lot of it is funny, even to us. Like I said, we know what we sound like. Those are the moments when more obscure slang (such as Cockney rhyming slang) might come out for comedic effect.

It’s good to have some balance, so not every word needs to be substituted. If you couldn’t read it without a fucking huge glossary, you’ve probably done a bit too much.

Writing the Accent

It’s good in moderation. ‘Luv’, ‘ain’t’, replacing the last g with an apostrophe in -ing words - you all have those things down, it works, good job.

HOWEVER, it is very clear that a lot of you have no clue what letters we do and don’t drop/change and in what words, as well as a lot of you going OT with removing the T’s from the middle of words. I know it kind of sounds like that to you but it reads like an over-exaggeration or mockery, particularly because most London accents, including Hobie’s, are much lighter in comparison to Brits from other areas, in which such omissions and alterations of letters would be somewhat appropriate but still, in moderation. I don’t recommend typing out the accent often, just sprinkle it around for a bit of flavour but don’t consistently write in that way because your writing loses legibility and it gets quite distracting.

Content

The stereotype of British people liking sarcasm is true for most and, in general, we like to have, what we call, ‘a bit of banter’. We’re a jokey people, even if those jokes can be a bit harsh or teasing. Confusingly, even if we are joking around, it doesn’t mean necessarily we’re being friendly, joking is just how we communicate (e.g. “Oh boy, humbling reality Spider-Man has arrived”, “What does that do?” “Apart from having a great name?”, “super humane and not creepy”, “this is a great look…”). I think most people have got this down really well, so keep it up guys 😎🤙

Another thing is cussing, swearing, profanity, whatever you wanna call it. We do it a lot for no reason, mainly spamming the word “fuck(ing)”. So have fun with that if you aren’t already.

We’ll get into it more in the terms of endearment section of Section B but, basically a lot of Londoners are typically not too mushy or affectionate, as is the stereotype for big city people and, additionally, British people in general aren’t the most direct in their words. Obviously, some people are but it’s not the culture if you’re trying to write proper ‘authentic’ haha. For a lot of us, saying sweet stuff can be quite laborious when sincere or cheesy or confrontational levels of direct really 😂 We ain’t the friendliest of types through our words so I'd recommend relying more on context for the sweet factor unless it's a stand-out moment.

Different parts of the UK, even within England itself, have different slang

Idk what else to say about this but yeah, there’s some phrases I’ve seen people use that have me scratching my head cause “nobody [from my area] says those words in that order” but I’m guessing it’s down to people incorporating slang which is more commonly heard up North because it’s all classed as British/U.K. slang when you look it up so, just be wary of that.

Section B: Grammar and Vocab (the thing you’ve been waiting for 😂)

I’ll link a document here so I don’t clog up your dash more than I already have. Feel free to bookmark it or anything, I’ll update it if needed. The contents are links to the relevant section so you can just click those if you’re not trying to read the whole thing.

I only included some highlights of the things that are easy enough to explain just by writing them out with their meanings but it’s by no means an extensive list. I’ve studied a few languages but I’m not a linguist so I just did my best.

If you want to go more heavy with the Cockney slang, I’ll leave it to someone who’s more familiar with it (or not… lol) to explain those terms and when to use them properly.

Section C: References

Of course, it’s all good and all that I’ve given you instructions but to make it sound natural, you’d need a point of reference. Here are some references of black North West Londoners from the early 80s, black East Londoners, black Londoners more generally and a Daniel Kaluuya interview so you can get a better feel of how we sound:

Clip from ‘No Problem’, the first Black British Sitcom

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The accents within this one group of siblings is very varied and none of them use MLE, as per the time period. The two younger sisters have accents most similar to Hobie’s. The show follows a group of siblings of Jamaican descent living in a council house in North West London, first released in 1983.

Clips from ‘Chewing Gum’ by Michaela Coel [CW: they're awkwardly talking about sex in a lot of the clips + don't listen to Candice's boyfriend, Aaron, he's not from London lol]

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The show takes place in Tower Hamlets, which is in East London and was first released in 2015. Tracy has a similar accent to Hobie and also uses a mix of more general/Cockney-influenced slang and MLE, so this one should both be a fun watch and be useful, you’ll also want to pay attention to Candice who has a more MLE lean to her speech.

Clips from the Foot Asylum crew most of them are MLE speakers, see some examples of our banter with friends lol

Clips from ‘Top Boy’

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Another show that takes place in East London, this time in Hackney, which is an area known for being kind of rough in terms of gang activity. Almost all the characters speak exclusively MLE in this show. If you want to watch it, TW for violence and gang activity, death, etc. (18+). You can tell based on the ones I’ve chosen that Sully’s my favourite character lmao.

Fun fact, as you might hear the character, Dushane, reference, Sully lives on a canal boat for a while as a form of refuge. I know a bit about boat dwellers in London from a lecture at uni but if anyone wants me to do more research and do a post and explain the waterways and stuff, again, feel free to drop an ask and I’ll do it :)

Clip from ‘Love Island’ just pay attention to the black islanders, Tyrique and Whitney

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I just finished watching this year's Love Island UK so I thought I’d throw the clip of Whitney, Lochan and Tyrique fighting in here lmao

& Daniel Kaluuya talking about Spiderpunk to bring us full circle✨

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#hobie brown #atsv fanfiction #spider punk #black british #writing advice #across the spiderverse #shui fic #shuinami

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