#Tyrone x you

[megamindsecretlair]

Stay With Me

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

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. Smut, PWP, cursing, PIV, oral (male and fem receiving), cum play, possession kink, size kink, breeding kink if you squint, all consensual. Praise kink. Use of n-word. Mention of depression. Mentions of negative self-talk.

Summary: You never thought in a million years that Tyrone would look at you with desire in his eyes. Tonight, he does.

Word Count: 5,885k

A/N: I....sort of went overboard with this. I'm going to be soooo groggy in the morning! I hope I did it justice! Likes are always awesome. Please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers!

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

“Man, get the fuck off my porch,” Tyrone spat out and callously slammed the metal door in front of the girl’s face. You almost felt sorry for her. Almost. It was Tyrone. Of course he was gonna act like a dog after he got some play. You weren’t blaming her. But you had to keep your heart out of being with Tyrone. 

The girl continued yelling so he slammed the wooden door in her face as well. It cut out of the long stream of curses and names she was calling him. She called his name and banged on the metal door, the sharp sound hurting your ears. 

You watched Tyrone shake his head and return to the couch next to you. You hid a smile as you looked him over. He wore his usual dickies and black T-shirt and his hair was pulled into smooth cornrows. He blew out a breath and shook his head, settling into the couch and pointedly ignoring the banging on his door.

“Bitch act like she the police,” he muttered. 

You turned your attention back to your phone. The TV played some type of game. You didn’t bother to remember which one. Tyrone endlessly flipped through channels never settling on anything. 

“Go on and say it,” he said. 

You looked at him and smirked. He settled sideways into the couch so that he was partially laying on your legs. You were propped against the arm of the couch, your elbow digging into the rough fabric. 

“I ain’t say nothin’,” you said quietly. Even after all these years knowing Tyrone, you never managed to get over how hot he was. There was a subtle attractiveness about him. His energy or his vibe or just the way he walked and moved. 

“But you want to, so go on,” he said. He turned his attention back to the TV but you saw the way his jaw flexed. He hated unnecessary drama. Well, that’s what he said. And yet, there was always some girl chasing after him because of how he dogged them out. 

The girl at his door finally gave up banging on it. It was clear Tyrone wasn’t going to answer. You couldn’t tell Tyrone shit. Not a damn thing. Once he set his mind to something, there was no moving him. 

For someone that hated drama so much, he was constantly in the middle of it. Whether it was his dealing, his boys, or the skirts he chased. 

“There’s nothing I can say that you ain’t heard before,” you said. You smirked at your phone. Tyrone would have another girl on his porch soon. Upset and angry. Rightfully so. Tyrone never promised tomorrow. Yet without fail, there was someone thinking that they could change him. That was like expecting the sun not to rise. 

“But yo ass gonna sit there smug and shit until you say somethin’,” he said. 

“You make it sound like I nag,” you said and rolled your eyes. 

“Might as well,” he said.

You kicked at his shoulder and he turned and bit your calf. “Ass,” you told him.

“Come on, shit,” he said. 

You rolled your eyes and stared at him. “You need to be more selective with these girls you fuckin’. They stay on your damn porch,” you said. 

“I can’t help it. I see some sexy ass thighs and I wanna get between ‘em,” he said. He looked at you but you knew the comment wasn’t directed at you. You ignored the long standing ache in your chest. It wasn’t his fault that you couldn’t control who you were attracted to.

Look at him! How could anyone not be attracted to him? Tyrone moved through the world like it owed him something. Like it was his God-given right to breathe this air, walk these streets. That type of confidence and self-assuredness was attractive. 

You on the other hand…you knew you were shy and awkward and weird. The adjectives were like scarlet letters painted on your forehead. You had been called all three your whole life. Like they were dirty words equivalent to calling you a slut or a whore. 

There was nothing wrong with those things. But if you heard it enough, it tended to take on a new meaning. One that you couldn’t leave behind. The scarlet letters proclaimed your identity before you had a chance to introduce yourself to someone. One look at you and people sized you up. Whittled away any chance of proving them wrong. Add in your resting bitch face and you turned people away without trying.

No kidding, today, you overheard someone say, “nah, she look mean” when they were looking for a place to sit. Was it a crime to not smile all the damn time? No one told men to smile that often. As if you were supposed to deal with bullshit day in and day out with a goofy ass smile on your face. 

Tyrone waved his hand in front of your face. “You stay spacin’ the fuck out,” he said.  

“I heard you, I was just thinkin’. You can help it. You just don’t want to,” you said. You went back to scrolling through your phone. 

“What’s wrong with liking sex?” 

You shrugged. “Nothin’. You could use some discretion though. How you know these people are clean?” 

You shivered. The last thing you wanted was a sexually transmitted disease. The thought of it was embarrassing enough. You couldn’t imagine looking a doctor in the eye and explaining what happened. 

“I wrap my shit. Plus, I don’t fuck every bitch I meet,” he said. 

You laughed so hard that you threw your head back on the couch. Your sides hurt as you laughed. 

“It ain’t that fuckin’ funny,” he mumbled, sucking his teeth. That only made you laugh harder. If there was one thing you could say to describe Tyrone, it was that he was a whore. An entire whore. 

Whenever you hung out, he and the boys would see a fine girl walking by and crane their necks looking at her ass. You were relegated to “one of the boys”. They knew full well that you were a girl and were capable of being fine too. But no one took the time to warm up to you. No one desired you that way. You didn’t turn heads. You made people laugh until they realized you were worth looking into.

It wasn’t a dig at yourself. You just knew your role in life. You were like the song on the playlist that someone added and forgot about. Until you came up on shuffle and the listener realized that you were actually fire. 

You sobered up with a deep sigh. Giggles still escaped you but Tyrone was not having it. He stared you down as if you kicked his puppy. “I’m just sayin’. You got a rep,” you said.

“A rep for layin’ pipe,” he said with a cocky grin. You rolled your eyes. Why did you bother with him in the first place? 

“Sex should mean something, Tyrone,” you said.

He sucked his teeth and rolled his eyes. “That’s ‘cause you ain’t had no good dick,” he said.

A strangled noise escaped you before you kicked at his shoulder. He moved out of the way. You did manage to kick him a little. He chuckled and held onto your foot to prevent you from kicking him more.

“I’ve had good dick, thank you very much!” You said. 

“Bullshit. You’d still be fuckin’ if you had good dick,” he said.

“That’s not true. If you layin’ good pipe like you say, you fuck anything that moves. I’m just not into sharing like that. I ain’t trynna have my vag on fire,” you huffed and concentrated on your phone.

Usually, you and Tyrone had an unspoken rule. He and the crew talked about their escapades all they wanted and you pretended to be grossed out and uninterested. You never mentioned your stories. There wasn’t much to tell. And they knew it. But they never made fun of you for it. Worse. They thought it was adorable. 

Because yeah, the one thing you wanted to be was adorable. Just once, you’d like to be sought after. To have someone hot and sexy in your DMs begging to get in between your legs. 

People thought overweight girls were supposed to be happy with the ashy niggas. The dorks who couldn’t hold a conversation. The ugly muthafuckas with an uglier personality who thought you should suck they dick because they held the door open once. 

“A’ight, who you fuck that had good dick?” Tyrone asked.

“I’m not telling you!” The tips of your ears burned as you tore your gaze away from him. For fuck’s sake, you’ve told worse things to your girls. You and your girls got graphic. Recounting sexual encounters and rating them amongst the others. Your girls had more stories than you, naturally. Damn. You really ought to stop putting yourself down. 

Tyrone chuckled. “‘Cause you ain’t had no good dick, that’s why,” he said. He shook his head and went back to flipping channels. 

Dismissed. Just like that. Your ears burned for different reasons. “I ain’t gotta prove shit to you, Tyrone. Worry about yourself and your diseased dick,” you said. 

“Nothin’ diseased about my shit. Wanna see?” Tyrone went to the fly of his pants and your eyes widened. 

“Something is seriously wrong with you,” you said. Just like that, you were laughing again. Tyrone was the only person who yanked your emotions around. You shouldn’t let him get to you. But he claimed to do it so that you would loosen up. 

“I’m not a robot,” you had told him one day.

“I know. But you cool as shit and you won’t let anybody see it,” he had said back. That shut you up for about a week. Tyrone had to track you down and drag you out of the house, thinking you were in a depressive mood. You didn’t have the confidence to tell him that what he said shifted your axis. 

You thought he only saw you like an annoying sister he had to drag everywhere. You practically grew up together. Your houses were right across the street from each other. If he was outside, you were outside with him. So to hear him give you a compliment touched parts of you that you learned to bury. 

You blinked and turned to Tyrone who was leaning over you, his face closer to you than it’s ever been. Even when he had chased you when you were twelve and you both got tangled in the water hose and fell on top of each other.

“I can help you with that, you know,” he said. 

“With what?” Your voice was quiet. 

He slowly licked his lips as his eyes trailed down. “Gettin’ you some good dick,” he said. 

You chuckled. “How you gonna do that? Gonna put an ad out for the big chick needin’ dick?” 

“Why you do that?” He asked.

“Do what?” You were starting to get an attitude. Whatever game he was playin’, you wanted no parts of it. This was a cruel joke, even for him. And he never let you live down your prom. Not because of how you look, but because of how your date looked. He still brought it up.  

“You stay puttin’ yourself down. Like you gotta do it first or somethin’.” 

You gaped at him. “I-” You didn’t have anything to say to that. It was instinct to call out the elephant in the room. If not, someone else did it and was way meaner. You weren’t going to let anyone make you feel bad about yourself. But your self-deprecating humor was hurting you more. Perhaps you wanted someone to correct you, just once. To say, “fuck that, you sexy as hell”. It was a stupid wish. 

“I’m just sayin’. I can help you out with it,” he said.

“You want to fuck me,” you said. You tried to hold in your laugh. You tried to take him seriously, but you felt a slow grin cross your face. He didn’t smile back. Instead, his eyes narrowed and he looked at your lips. 

“Damn right. Been trynna fuck you for a while,” he said.

Your jaw dropped. Where the hell was this coming from? You sat up straight but he was still near you. He was close enough that you smelled his spicy scent and could see the dark pools of brown in his eyes. Only a few inches separated your lips from his big, juicy ones.

“What?” 

He grinned. The cocky muthafucka. “Ain’t you noticed it’s just been us hanging around lately?” 

No. It wasn’t until he said it that you realized. The boys had been noticeably absent. Instead of hanging with them while they roamed the streets or sat outside Tyrone’s porch, it had been just you and Tyrone. Watching TV, playing games, or taking drives up the 405 when the traffic died down. You were just happy to spend time with him. Any way you could get him. 

You thought it was awesome that his crew didn’t want to hang lately. You got to be selfish and have Tyrone’s attention. That was him…flirting? 

“Oh,” you said. 

He laughed and shook his head. “I figured yo ass didn’t know,” he said. 

He stood up, giving you enough time to breathe and deal with this turn of events. You ran through every interaction, wondering how you could be so blind. 

“Nuh uh. Don’t disappear on me,” he said. He pulled you up off of the couch and took your phone. He tossed it on the couch and led you down the short hallway to his room. You had been there plenty of times. You had cracked jokes with the rest of his friends that it was radioactive with how much sex he was having. He’d wave you away, saying it wasn’t like that. 

You expected it to be gross. But it was refreshingly clean. He still had shit everywhere, though. Stray clothes piled on his desk chair, clothes spilling out of the closet. He had a wall of shoes stretching towards the ceiling. What was it with guys and shoes? 

He closed the door after leading you into the room. You stood there, awkwardly. You weren’t sure what to do. You hadn’t had enough time to freak out about this new development. 

He chuckled at your awkwardness and grabbed your hand again, pushing you onto the bed. “What you say? You wanna see what we can get into?” He asked. 

You looked at him. He wasn’t pushing you. You could’ve pulled your hand away in the living room and told him that he was crazy. “You wanna fuck me,” you said. You still couldn’t believe him. You pictured this so many times in your head. But now that it was offered to you on a silver platter, you felt like a virgin all over again. 

You were aware of everything. Every sigh that left his lips. The subtle drape of his shirt on your bare arm. The heat leaping off of him. 

“I wanna fuck you,” he said. 

“Why?” You asked. You swear, you weren’t trying to be this dense. It just didn’t make sense to you. 

“Why not? You’re fine as hell. And funny. You cool as shit,” he said. 

You bit your lip as you went through all the women he had been with. He didn’t really have a type. Petite and cute was a common theme. Petite as in being short as hell. You supposed he never really been with a super skinny chick. 

Tyrone was a big boy. He had some meat on them bones and it showed every time he moved. He was a solid dude. He’d probably break someone that was skinny. 

The wet heat of his lips pressed against yours and you gasped. Tyrone pulled back and grinned. “Stay with me. C’mon, give me a chance,” he said. 

You grinned and leaned forward, kissing him for real this time. Tyrone pushed his tongue in, rolling it against yours. You felt it down to your core. You moaned softly. 

“Take these off for me,” he said. He tugged on your shirt and played with the hem of your shorts. 

You stood up and pulled off your shirt. Then you unzipped your shorts and shucked them off. You stood there in your bra and panties, feeling both turned on and incredibly shy. You crossed your arms but he shook his head. He peeled your arms away from your chest and he looked his fill.

You were too nervous to look him in the eye. To look at his face. Goddamn it. You didn’t hate the way you looked. But you couldn’t get over your insecurities. “Can we turn off the light…?” 

“Fuck no!” He scooted closer to the edge of the bed and grabbed your hips. He pulled you closer to stand between his legs. He rubbed your sides, your ass, and your thighs. He kissed your belly and you gasped. 

He looked up at you. He licked your stretch marks. You placed your hands on his shoulders to keep your legs from folding. How long has it been since you had sex? A while. And that had been a desperate attempt at latching onto the first halfway decent guy to look your way. 

He nibbled on your love handles, squeezing your flesh so he could take a big bite. You slapped his shoulder and he laughed. “That shit hurt!” 

“Good,” he said. He looked at you, daring you to do something about it. Again, insecurities robbed you of any idea of what to do next. You wanted to be sexy and take the lead. You wanted to entice him. Instead, you stood there while he kneaded the back of your thighs. 

“Hey, relax. Stay with me,” he said. 

He prompted you to climb into his lap. You placed your knees on the side of him and rested on his lap. His thick cock pushed against his shorts and you gasped as you got your first feel of it.

Okay, you sort of got why these girls would bang on his door like that. He ran his hands up and down your back as he kissed you slowly. He played with your lips. First he’d kiss you. Then he’d pull back and lick your lips. Then, he’d run his tongue across your teeth and you shuddered. 

He was content to do just that. Until you were squirming in his lap, trying to get some friction. He ran his hands across your back, fiddling with your bra until he unclipped it. He drew the cups down until it hung on your arms. You moved your hands from around his neck, but he shook his head.

“Put that shit back and hol’ on,” he said. You smiled and put it back on his shoulders. He kept his eyes on you as he put his head down and licked the top of your breast. You stuttered with a sigh. 

He moaned as he latched on to your nipple and started to suck. “Oh shit,” you said. You leaned up, you weren’t expecting him to suck that hard. In fact, you hadn’t known your nipples were that sensitive. Guys mostly ignored them, too busy trying to fuck. 

But Tyrone worshiped your titties. He went from one to the other, sucking and nibbling on your nipples. He sucked and yanked on one and it was like he yanked on your clit. Your wetness was pooling in your panties and you wiggled. If you were bare, his shorts would be ruined. You hissed as he yanked harder. 

“Fuck!” You said and tapped his shoulder. He let go with a wet pop and your nipple stayed beaded and swollen. He did the same thing to your other titty. “You do this shit to other bitches?” 

“Fuck no. You ain’t no bitch to me,” he said. He laved at your titty, encircling it with his tongue before he flicked it. You made all kinds of sounds as your eyes rolled back a bit. His hands gripped your ass and slid you higher on his lap.

Surely, he had to be hurting. His crotch was bulging and thick. It couldn’t have been comfortable for him. 

His words finally registered and you melted into him, pushing your chest into his face. He grinned. “Yeah, that’s right. Give me that shit,” he said. He reverently licked and sucked on your titties until your panties were truly damp. You didn’t have time to overthink. There was nothing but his heavenly mouth on your breasts.

A strangled sigh left you. You were grinding down on his dick. You almost had him in the perfect spot to rub against your clit. 

Abruptly, he stood up with you in his arms. You panicked. All the tension returned as you left the ground. You clung to him and he chuckled. “I got you,” he said. He kissed your cheek and the corner of your mouth until you focused on him instead of how much it would suck to crash to the ground. Carpet or not, the shit would hurt.

He laid you down on the bed and removed his shirt and pants. He rubbed himself over his briefs but he leaned down and took off your bra completely. He kissed your neck, licked your collarbone, and continued down. His hands peeled your legs apart and you moaned at the force he used.

“So fuckin’ pretty,” he murmured into your skin. “You wet for me?” 

He didn’t wait for you to answer. His fingers traced your pussy through your panties and he groaned in satisfaction feeling the wet spot there. You gyrated on his hand while he kissed his way back up to your face. 

He pressed his thumb in, pushing your panties into your clit and he rubbed harder. “Oh shit,” you moaned. He swallowed your moans. He kissed you and continued to play with you over your panties until you were panting and shaking. 

He kissed down to your ear and bit at your earlobe. “Let that shit go,” he said.

You whimpered before your knees slapped together and you came with his hand still on you. “You so pretty when you cum,” he whispered in your ear. 

He stood up with a satisfied smirk as he watched the last dregs of your orgasm leave you. He removed your sopping wet panties and kissed your knees when he finally got them off. He rubbed and caressed your thighs until you were relaxing against him once more. 

He opened your legs and stared at your pussy. “Fuck. So fuckin’ pretty. You ain’t had nobody work yo shit, huh?”

You shook your head but realized he may not have seen it. “No,” you admitted. No one had done half the things that Tyrone just did. He made you cum without really touching you. You weren’t sure if you should be embarrassed or impressed. It should not be that easy to get you off. It usually took you a long while. So much so, that you gave up foreplay with men. 

Tyrone stuck his nose against your clit and inhaled. You yelped and jerked up the bed. He bit your thigh and his arms hooked under your legs. He pulled you back down and placed his nose against you, sniffing you. He rubbed his nose in your wetness and you choked on a half laugh, half moan. 

“Goddamn,” he moaned. His tongue darted out to get a taste and he moaned again. “Taste fuckin’ good too. Matter of fact, I’m mad at you now,” he said.

You leaned up on your elbows and looked at him. He was a damn good sight to behold. His head was still dipped between your thick thighs and the look on his face…you wished you could take a picture. He looked hungry. His eyes were wide and he kept licking his lips as if you were still on his tongue. 

“What you mad at me for?” You asked.

“Keeping this fuckin’ pussy from me,” he said. You choked on a laugh. He dipped down and ran his tongue from your pussy to your clit. Your hips bucked and he held you down with his arms. 

He held you in place as he continued to lick you like ice cream. He was slow and methodical, letting you feel his tongue as it swirled around your wetness. Your pussy pulsed in time with his licks and you squirmed on the bed. 

“Oh fuck,” you moaned. You were near crying. He teased you without mercy. He brought you to the brink of cumming over and over, only to retreat and play with something else until your ass was back on the bed. 

A giant wet spot spread under your ass as you gushed arousal. He placed open mouth kisses on your clit, dragging his lips through either side of it. “Fuck, please. Please Tyrone,” you murmured.

“Please what?” He asked and lazily circled your clit again. 

You bit your lip. You didn’t know what you were begging for. Begging to cum? Begging for him to do something else? Begging just to beg? 

“Let me hear what you want from me.” He nosed through your slick and you bucked. “Let me hear that sexy, squeaky ass voice,” he said.

You laughed. It was more like a few puffs of air. Sweat gathered everywhere. You should feel gross. Instead, you finally felt…desired. He wasn’t down there, eating you out as a prerequisite for having sex. He was down there because he wanted to be. 

He suckled sharply on your clit and you hissed. “I ain’t gonna keep tellin’ yo ass to stay with me. Get out of your head for once,” he said. 

You grinned at him. “Yes, sir.” 

He moaned and licked at your clit. “Say that shit again, I like that,” he said. 

“Yes, sir,” you said. 

He grinned around your pussy. Your slick dripped down his chin. His entire face was wet with your juices and it only turned you on. He moaned as he felt your pussy clench. He was bringing you to the edge again. You couldn’t stand it.

Your body was overheated. Your hands clutched at his sheets desperately. You licked your lips. “Please…I need to cum,” you said. 

“You think you deserve to cum?” He asked. “Ain’t I already give you one?” He continued to lap at your slick and you twitched and jerked with the painful need to cum. Your belly was too tight. 

“Please, please, please,” you said. You threw your head back and forth. You needed something, soon. If you were denied one more time…

“Please, Tyrone. Don’t…I need to cum, please,” you babbled. You were saying anything at this point. You may have offered him your first born or a lifetime of blow jobs. You weren’t sure. But his deep, rumbling laugh skated over your sensitive skin. He rarely laughed. Each time he did, you cataloged it for later. When you were indulging in a delusion that involved him and this exact scenario. 

“Since you asked so nicely,” he said. If you thought he was serious before, it was nothing compared to how he attacked your clit. Like a starving man who’d just been offered a king’s feast. He flicked your clit with the tip of his tongue. Playing with the swollen nub until you were stuttering and hollering.

Tears of relief finally leaked out as you came with a high wail. You felt like you were inside out and upside down. You entered a sixth dimension somewhere. There was only pleasure. Unwavering, unbridled pleasure that swept over you in waves higher than the ocean. You were lost and unmoored. Head empty. 

You panted as you drifted back into your body. Somewhere between all of that, Tyrone had cleaned off his face and his briefs were gone. He looked down at you and stroked himself as he watched you. 

You struggled to your elbows as cold air hit the giant wet spot beneath you. It was lurid, the way you sat in a puddle like that. A puddle of your own making. You didn’t know you were capable of being that wet. 

You wiped sweat from your skin. You needed what he held in his hands. You sat up, your eyes focused on his dick. You wanted to return the favor. You wanted to suck him off. To bring him to the brink of oblivion like he just did for you. 

He chuckled as you reached for him. He stood close and you took him into your mouth. “Fuck,” he said. He threw his head back and jerked his hips forward. 

You went to work, bobbing up and down on his dick. He barely fit. You sucked and slobbered all over him, sucking him in as far as he could go. You used your hands to get to the rest of him, twisting your hands and letting your slobber drip down his dick to make your hands glide better.

“Goddamn, suck that shit. Show me you want this dick,” he encouraged. Sighs and moans escaped his mouth as you pleased him. He encouraged you to go faster and faster until his hips were jerking. He grabbed your head and slammed you further onto his dick. He fucked your face until you were gagging on him. The sound only spurned him on, to keep going and fucking your mouth. 

“Better swallow this shit,” he said. He let loose, cumming with a loud groan. You lied earlier. You wanted to take a picture of him like this. With his eyes closed and his jaw slack. His face scrunched between pleasure and pain. 

His hot load squirted down your throat. You gulped the salty taste of him down. Every last drop. He cursed as he emptied the last of it. He slipped out of your mouth and ran his fingers down your lips. You licked your lips and suckled his thumb into your mouth. 

He gripped your chin and moved your head from side to side. You blinked slowly at him. “You been hidin’ this mouth from me too,” he said. You shook your head with his thumb in your mouth. 

“That’s a’ight. I’ma fuck that shit again. Lay back on the bed,” he said. 

All hints of shyness were gone. You let go of his thumb with a wet pop and scooted further up the bed. This was Tyrone. Your best friend. There was nothing to be shy about. He loved your body. Truly loved it. And by extension, you learned to love it through his eyes. 

He followed you onto the bed, his knees sliding between your legs and pushing until you were completely spread before him. He placed his hands on either side of you, the bed dipping under his strength. 

He leaned on one hand and lined himself up. There was something in the back of your mind, but you couldn’t think what it was. The thought eluded you as he slowly worked his way in. 

His eyes closed and his mouth twisted as he moaned on his way in. He stretched you out, impossibly big. You tensed a bit. You weren’t used to someone quite this big. He noticed and started to kiss you.

He still faintly smelled like you. It was so hot, tasting yourself on his lips that you moaned and clenched around his dick. He groaned and pushed in more as you relaxed. The hand that was around his dick started to rub on your clit and you whimpered and cried. 

You were still so overwhelmed by your last orgasm that you twitched every time he rubbed your clit. 

“Look at you. Can’t even say shit, can you?” He asked. 

You shook your head. “Feels too good. Too fuckin’ good,” you said. 

“Yeah? It’s too much for you?” He pushed in further and your jaw dropped on a soundless scream. 

“Goddamn it, Tyrone!” You slapped at his chest but that only made him chuckle. He grabbed the hand you slapped him with and held it to the bed. He trapped your hand there as he really started to move.

“Oh shit, oh shit,” you groaned. Your other hand pushed at him. Your nails dug into his chest leaving half moon imprints on his pec. 

He increased his pace as he dropped all of his weight on you. His strokes were deeper until you were sure that the tip of his dick was hitting your cervix. “Oh shit, oh fuck,” you said.

“Yeah, talkin’ all that shit. This is what good dick feel like,” he said in your ear. He leaned up, pushing your legs to the bed so that you were neatly folded in half. At this new angle, it was like he unlocked a deeper level inside of you. You felt every inch of his dick. 

“No…condom…” you breathed out. 

“Shit,” he said. His eyes widened but he didn’t stop. “Feel too fuckin’ good to stop. Pussy so fuckin’ tight and wet for me,” he continued. 

You clenched around him. On every stroke, he wrangled more and more incoherent sounds from you. You didn’t know what the hell you were on about. You wanted to be mad that he was hittin’ it raw. But he felt too fucking good. Too fucking right. He belonged there in between your legs. It was a silly idea, but it was true. He was made for you. You had no claim to him. You didn’t know what any of this meant, if it even meant anything. 

So you held on. You scratched at his back wanting to leave some kind of memory behind. Some kind of mark to show that you were there. That you meant something to him. 

“You take me so fuckin’ well. Shit. Good fuckin’ girl,” he said. 

You whined. It was the words you needed. You exploded into a million shards of star dust beneath him. Light blinded you as your orgasm whipped through you once more. Your legs squeezed him and he came with you. He grunted and painted your insides with his cum. He kept stroking as if he was trying to fuck his cum in deeper. Wanting to claim you the same way you wanted to with your nails. 

He dropped onto you, one big sweaty mess. You clung to him, not ready for him to leave just yet. You were still settling down and it felt like you were still fractured. Holding on to him was holding your body together at the moment. 

Slowly, you opened your eyes and he lifted his head. He kissed you once and then twice, lingering. He leaned back and grinned while he panted. Completely spent. 

He caressed your check. It was an unexpected show of gentleness that you didn’t think he was capable of. Don’t get it twisted. Tyrone was dangerous. But in the moment, he was just your best friend. 

He looked at you as if really seeing you for the first time ever. “Stay with me,” he said. 

You grinned and nodded. Yeah, you’ll stay with him. 

&&&

Did you like this? Need more in your life? Check out the other Tyrone fics here: Masterlist

[sageispunk]

Drown in It (18+)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[slippinninque]

Fontaine, Seduced

(alternatively : Fontaine Tries To Be A Gentleman But You Aint Ask Him For All'Dat)

Warnings: 18+, SMUT, Minors DNI, long fic, cursing, use of the n-word, thirsty Fontaine, ramblings, slight corruption kink, praises n' begging, P-in-V, light bondage, Slips' First Smut

A/N: So sorry for the wait! Sooo, this is in answer to the anon who asked how Fontaine would be if he was trying to hide his nasty. i really hope i did you proud! I've

He...may have a problem.

There you were, the light of his life, seated on the floor and in a nest of your own making. Blankets and pillows spread with you nestled in it's center. A skein of yarn to your left as whatever it was you were creating grew in your lap with snacks to your right.

Absolutely adorable while you watched an old western with him. Fontaine knew you were warm and soft as a cake from your shower and shea butter, he could smell your hot chocolate with every sip you took.

Your furry socked feet rubbed together in your contentedness and every so often, you'd lean back on Fontaine's legs to look up at him until he leaned down to kiss you.

He wanted to see you cry.

It was terrible, he was terrible. You've been nothing but good to him and here he was wanting to see those pretty eyes rolling. It was a problem, he knew it.

Still...

He wanted to bend and twist you, he wanted to hear how close he could get you to screaming. Fontaine wanted to bite from your neck to your ankles, he wanted to ruin your sheets. He wanted to ruin the back seats in his ride, take you on a walk and lay you down beneath the moon and hear you call for him.

Fontaine knew how pretty you'd be taking his dick down your throat and he wanted to see it first hand.

But....it was you.

He could imagine wrapping a hand around those pretty locs and tugging them down to swallow his dick, but he wasn't sure if he could bring himself to do it.

Because it was you.

What if he hurt you? What if he did something you didn't like and you didn't tell him?

What if he scared you?

The idea alone distressed him.

He wouldn't risk it. Fontaine wouldn't risk anything when it came to you.

"Tea time? I think its tea time."

Your words drew him from his thoughts, movie long forgotten as he watched you stretch. You rolled partly onto your side, humming and unaware of the chaos you were causing as your cami rode high and your nipples pebbled beneath the fabric.

"You want some tea?"

You were laid out into your back now, lost in a other stretch and Fontaine took a breath and nodded.

He was fine.

It was fine.

:::

It was not fine.

"I know it's a lot, but I made a promise." You sighed, looking over your shoulder and into the full length mirror in the back of the bedroom door. Fontaine sat only a few feet away, the polishing his sneaker in the same damn spot.

The promise was modeling a line of beautifully crafted crystal-bikini sets. Your locs were piled up carelessly as you struggled to clasp the top piece.

Fontaine has never seen anything like it, but you often ran with an artsy crowd. You often brought home strange and beautiful things to either model, store, or complete.

He really he hoped that you get to keep this one.

"You good, baby, you good. Tell what's it made of." Fontaine cleared his throat and stood, coming up behind you to take over.

"Fluorite and clear-quartz, you can see the lil' silver bells, right?" she said. "It reminds me of those flapper girls! But without the, uh, middle part, y'know? Look!"

You took a step back and twisted your hips with a soft, "Swish, swish!"

Fontaine whistled lowly. All he saw pretty titties and tasty thighs. When you turned and bent over a bit, wagging your bottom at him, he moved before thinking.

He cracked you right across the ass.

You squealed, putting your hands on your cheeks and looking at him with wide eyes.

"Ooh, shit, my bad baby!"

Fontaine's heart fell into the floorboards, regardless of giggle fit you were in. He pulled you close with one arm, pressing apologetic kisses to the top of your head while his free hand rubbed your cheeks.

What the fuck was he thinking? Okay, he's gave you a little pop every now and again but that--that was out of line.

'You fuckin' up, nigga.'

"It's okay, it's okay. Really, it was really the sound that surprised me--okay?"

Fontaine looked you in the eye, saw your glimmering eyes and the giddy smile. He kissed your cheeks, wanting to feel your blushing face.

Then he nodded.

You kissed him on the lips, then had the nerve to bat your eyes at him.

"Y'know...I do get to keep this."

:::

"--od, Big Dawg?"

Fontaine's head snapped up and saw that Big Moss was trying to pass him a blunt. He shook his head at himself, taking the blunt and then taking a pull.

Big Moss shook his head as well, "C'mon, tell me what's up."

"I'm good, 'Moss. Jus' got a lot on my mind."

"Is it about your lil' shawty or somthin'?"

He grunted. Feeling his stare, Fontaine turned to face Big Moss who's expression was expectant.

"Well? Tell ya mans what's goin' on!" On went the fan and Fontaine knew it wasn't going to be let go.

He took another hit and passed the blunt back, "She's a good girl. Ain't like the others I had, I ain't gotta tell you that. Can't treat her like normal."

"Can't treat her... normal?"

"Can't treat her normal, y'know wha' I'm sayin'?"

A beat of silence. Then Big Moss' eyes widened in understanding,

"Oh! can't trea--yeah, a'ight, I see, I see."

Fontaine sighed and told Big Moss about losing himself when you were trying on the bikini-set, how bad he felt.

"Did she feel bad?"

"What?"

"I know you heard me, nigga. Like, did she cry or cuss yo' ass out? Get up and leave? anythin'?"

Fontaine didn't have to think hard to recall your smile, the breathy way you laughed, "...No. She wasn't mad. I was the one most fucked up by it."

Smacking his lips, the Big Moss put a hand on Fontaine's shoulder,

"Lemme tell you somethin', this yo' first Good Girl--ain't it? I'll tell you somethin' about 'em. The sweetest little faces be hiding the nastiest shit, cuz."

Fontaine scoffed, unbelieving. He recalled your inexperience at the beginning of your relationship. You were nervous but you did make up for it in unlimited enthusiasm...

"Hmn."

Big Moss continued, "I'm telling you, man! She's probably shy 'bout some shit and just need a lil encouragement from her man. Trust me on this, Big Dawg. I've seen how ya'll are--"

His free hand went up innocently at the look Fontaine gave him,

"All I'm sayin' is that ya'll rock with each other. Work with her, man. It'll all be cool in the end, ya dig me? Whatch it be something small, I'm tellin' you!"

Fontaine thought about it.

Then he nodded. Big Moss nodded back, handing over the blunt and not bothering to hide his grin.

:::

Fontaine had a plan.

He was thinking about it every since he left Big Moss, their talk still echoing through his head.

'Take it slow if you that worried, Big Dawg.'

'Moss was right. Fontaine took it slow made sure to be careful when dealing with you, and it's gotten him nothing but sweetness and warmth back.

He went to your place without even thinking and you welcomed him in with an excited smile. That smile grew nearly manic when you saw the take out in hands.

He took in your plushy romper and slippers as he followed you into the den. That winter weight that you've been commenting about was nothing but God and Fontaine knew to be grateful.

"Damn girl, whatchu been up too?" He rose a brow at the whirlwind of yarn and notebooks.

"Ah, just trying to keep hands busy!" you said with an embarrassed little laugh. You hurried to make space for him on the couch, moving your next to the floor after tossing down a few blankets.

You went onto your hands and knees, spreading out all the corners and pulling a few seating cushions closer. Fontaine followed the lines of you, right to the lil' bit of booty that was peeking out.

"You gonna be sittin' away from me?" Fontaine mumbled, eyes stuck to your ass.

"I'll come closer." You promised with a coy smile, then told him to get comfortable. You asked if he needed anything as you both settled down.

Fontaine nearly purred at your care of him, reminded of how good he had it with you.

He just had to go slow. Get used to checking himself, making sure he wasn't doing too much. Fontaine would contain himself.

A soft touch brought him outside of his head.

"Whatchu doin' down there, pretty?"

Your hands slid up his jean clad thighs and aimed those bright eyes at him. You still laid your cheek on his knee, still rubbing as you blink slowly at him without saying a word.

Fontaine's tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. He wasn't prepared for this. All he could do was nod and you gave him a candied smile as you pulled down his zipper. He groaned inwardly, bracing himself as the lust for nearly boiled over.

He was trying to be a good.

Your soft hands found his dick already half hard. Fontaine shifted to make more room for you, utterly enthralled by the way you licked your lips and wriggled closer.

A few pumps were all he needed and without preamble, you slipped his dick right to the back of your throat.

His ears rang and he finally released the remote he's been clutching, arms going out to span the back of the couch. What the fuck was this?

Your head went in small bobs, never letting the head of Fontaine's dick from the back of your throat. Your tongue was wet and wonderful. Nearly serpentine as you jerked the base of him, pulling back and giving his tip saccharine kisses.

He breathed heavily, hips jerking only once before he remembered himself. You hummed disappointedly and pulled back, looking at him with a small frown

" 'Taine, you need to relax." You still stroked his length, "Are you not into oral, we don't have too--

"Naw, that ain't it," Fontaine interjected quickly,

You rewarded him with another wet kiss to his tip, "Then why aren't you putting this where it belongs?"

He blinked as your words rang through his ears, the sweetest faces...

"You always go stiff as a board when I'm down here, never let me stay as long as I want." you sniffed and rubbed your lips against his dick.

His voice was faint, "I ain't want you to think you had to."

"I'd love to, Fontaine, that's the thing. More than often, preferably." You sighed, "I love that you're careful with me, but have you ever...wanted to...not be?"

Fontaine's hands balled where they were still up on the back of the couch.

You made the face when you were going to be really patient with him about something. Your gave his dick another kiss, soft as silk.

"Would you still be into me if I wasn't acting sweet all the time?"

He never understood whiplash until this very moment, but Fontaine focused when he saw the furrow in your brow.

"I don't care how you act, you're gonna still be mine at the end of the day." Fontaine was certain there was nothing that you could go through that he wouldn't be there to stand with you.

"Exactly. You ain't gotta be on your best behavior. You have me and all I want is you. How ever you are. I'm yours."

You laid it out so easy for him, the right words strung together to settle perfectly in his mind. Your words, your words...

Fontaine sat up, his focus zeroing in on you. Your back straightened as you continued.

"So what if I want to act...like-um..."

He sat up, "What? You wanna act up, pretty girl?"

The way you rubbed your thighs together in anticipation ignited him. You were a delicious little morsel on your knees trying to ask if you could swallow his dick again.

The sweetest fuckin' faces...

Fontaine reached out and cupped your cheek, his thumb running across your lips. Your brown eyes were nearly black with a craving similar to Fontaine's.

He gently wagged your face, "Tell me what you want, baby."

"Everything."

He chuckled lowly at your whining and leaned in close enough to brush your noses together.

"You know what you askin' me?"

"You said you'd give me anything I need, didn't you? I need you, Fontaine."

Your voice carried off into a gasp, Fontaine had reached behind you and gathered your locs up into a gentle hold before tugging. With your head drawn back, Fontaine had the pleasure of seeing your pink tongue sweeping across your lips.

"You look hungry, pretty girl."

Your answer was a breathy little moan. Fontaine groaned as he leaned in to claim your lips, his reason slipping into the back seat of his mind.

:::

Arms tied behind your back, you could only rock and whine in Fontaine's lap as he pinched and plucked your tender nipples. One hand pulling the satin scarf that he used to bind your hands. It kept you taut and nearly immobile, enough for him to move you as he pleased.

And move you he did. Sometimes releasing your hands to grip at your waist, leaning up to kiss you or lying back and watching you.

The most nasty things flowed from his delectable lips and he definitely wasn't shy about giving your ass a few swats now.

Fontaine has been wringing orgasms out of you like honey from it's comb. The longer it went on, the more it felt like you were being devoured.

On your knees, away from the couch and up against the wall, folded up in recliner, now back on the couch.

Fontaine has never treated you this way. It was sublime. Gone was his careful touches and tender passion. Fontaine fucked you with a single minded determination, content to relish your ecstasy.

"This is what you wanted, pretty thing? Am I givin' you what you need now?"

You nodded, exhaling sharply as he ground into your sweet spot. Tears sprang to the corner of your eyes at the sweet-hurt of being overwhelmed. You needed more to fall over the line, but you didn't want it to end.

You made desperate noises as he backed off enough to leave you on the edge, "Ye-Yes! Yes, 'Taine-- please, please--!"

He kneaded your ass, rough as he moved you on his dick. The pressure had you releasing a sound you didn't know you could make.

Fontaine's echoing moan shadowed a grin, "That's it, tell me who I am. Tell me who's this pussy's for."

"Yo-You, Fontaine, you..." You babbled, "It's yours, it's yours!"

"And it feels good?"

"Mmn, yesss..."

"Is it too much?"

You shook your head. Fontaine's brow lifted and pace sharpened, ripping a keening gasp from you.

He purred as your eyes rolled back and sat up to meet you chest to chest, using one of his hands to squish your cheeks together.

"Use your words, beautiful. Is. It. Too much?" He husked against your lips, pace frustratingly slowing once again.

Your answer was to bite his bottom lip with the best growl you could muster.

Fontaine muttered something you couldn't hear and then he was leaning back, putting his hands on your thighs and driving up into you in earnest.

It felt like running through fire, seeing ever color at once, knowing the name of every star. All through it, Fontaine continued muttering to himself, no longer concerned with holding you steady.

"Mnh, look at that face. Finally gettin' what you wanted. Acting like like I ain't gonna give you what you ask for--that you can't tell me?"

"It wasn't like that." You whimpered at his hands on you again, reaching down to spread you around him. You gasped and lost balance swaying forward to press your forehead into his shoulder. When Fontaine slowed his pace again, you distantly hoped you'd be awake if he ever decided to cum.

"Don't worry," Fontaine's voice was gravel, "Imma teach you good. We'll find out how much you can take, hm? Together."

You were trembling and your brain was probably slush by now, but you've seen the appeal of being greedy.

Fontaine could still give you more, you still wanted more. Together, you could tear down the fences that kept you from each other's pleasure.

You leaned back enough to mash your lips to his, drinking down his pleased moan.

You didn't care how long it took, you wanted this man to tear you apart and piece you back together.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

PHEW

thank you for reading! this took literally too long and it still feels rushed, but I really wanted to challenge myself! Please let me know what you think, any tips would be greatly appreciated as well!

taglist: @megamindsecretlair @thadelightfulone @mag1calenchantr3ss @cocoeffects @wide-nose-and-wonderful @8ttached @thadelightfulone @hobiesmain @thickeeparker @longpause-awkwardsmile @ms-angiealsina @educatorsareslutstoo @mysterychick93

(let me know if you want to be tagged!! 💕💜🌟)

[mcondance]

big dick fontaine <3 size kink is obvious and rampant here…. srry (not at all)

he’s got a bit of a size kink, and it comes with the territory honestly. splitting you open goes to his head, the way you squirm and whine and even cry blows his head up giant.

he can’t help it, not when your head lifts off the bed to watch him slide in like you can’t believe what he’s doing to you. not when he gets to watch you accommodate his size, watch you relax and breathe and well up just from him fucking you open.

not when he gets to talk to you through it. “breathe, mama, breathe,” he tells you, nodding with you when you nod at his words. “gon’ feel so good when you calm down.” you’re trying, you really are, but he’s hot against you and you can feel him notching away inside you, feeding your cunt inch by inch.

it’s not your fault, really, not on you. it’s all on him, and his stupid big dick that you get dizzy even thinking about. even dizzier when it’s inside you, when he’s playing in your guts, got you spread so wide it aches.

only he can satiate that ache, that little thing inside you that craves to be fucked.

and he does. god, he does. “know it’s big, huh mama? i know. look at how you take that shit.” pointed gaze directed down to where he welcomes himself inside you, he’s proud of you, chest swelling up with how good you take him, how you’re so determined to make him fit, hungry for the stretch and the burn that he’s always wanting to give you.

[iridescentprose]

Eclectic Memories- Fontaine x reader insert

summary; a brief timeline of you and fontaine's relationship.

warning(s); none, just fluff

author's note: they cloned tyrone is such a cinematic masterpiece. go watch it if you haven't.

When he told you he was a 'dope boy', it was over a bucket of fried chicken. At your reaction, he laughed because he thought the way you said 'dope boy' was funny - like you had never seen dope boys running around the Glen, mouth full of gold and guns in their pockets before. You told him he was the nicest dope boy you had ever met. The entire restaurant laughed in sync at your joke. The dope boy in front of you smiled gold.

When he asked you what you wanted to do on your first date, you told him you wanted to ride in his car. When he declined your request, he told you a joyride in his car - during the day or at night - didn't count as a date. Playfully, you both argued on what counts as a date, and he eventually gave in. He told you he would let you ride in his car one day.

When he told you were pretty, you were sitting behind the wheel of his car. The sun was just going down and your hands were resting on your lap nervously. He gave in, and had just finished driving you around the Glen. When you asked to sit in the driver's seat, he pulled over at a park and let you.

When he first got flustered in front of you, he had just reached over for the seatbelt to buckle you in because he wanted to make sure you were safe (even though you had no plans of stepping on the gas). When you said 'thank you', he nodded and leaned back against the passenger's seat, playing it cool, and ignoring the heat rising to his face.

When he first put his arm around you, you were in his house. He told you to make yourself comfortable. When you walked past the threshold, he was already sitting on the couch, arm sprawled across the back. Tentatively, you closed the front door behind you and looked at your options: the space next to him or an uncomfortably lonesome chair across the room. You opted for the space next to him. When you opted for the space next to him, he was surprised, though played it cool as you nestled your head against his chest. You could hear his racing heartbeat. His fingers rested along your shoulder as the tv blasted a grape juice commercial.

When you talked on the phone for the first time, it was 3am. He told you he couldn't sleep and that he was thinking about you. You smiled at the sentiment, finding it endearing. You told him you were thinking about him, too. You could hear his smile through the phone. You both didn't want the phone call to end.

When you told him you liked him, it was over the phone. You were too nervous to do it in person and your days were starting to get busier. He told you he liked you back and wanted you to be 'his girl'. When you told him you would, he played it cool, and told you 'good night'.

[triple-pupil]

This was supposed to be a lip-sync exercise but for now it's ok as is.

English dialogue under cut.

"Thank you! But why didn't you come say hi?"

"I felt a little bit shy... But I wanted to help you out!..."

"How... Kind!"

"Very kind"

"Very VERY kind, thank you!"

"It's nothing/You're welcome"

[soft-persephone]

I Will Be Your End pt. 2

Vampire!Abel Morales x Vampire!F!Reader x Vampire!Fontaine x reader

Oscar Isaac x Reader x John Boyega

MDNI // Part One // Explicit // warnings: descriptions of blood l, gore, mention of abuse, fantastical non con but no R word or SA // masterlist

“I think you’ve made up your mind.” Shante said sadly.

“I think I have.” You added with finality.

At that moment Abel and Ghezo walked in.

Abel was still upset, but his anger had subsided.

You rushed over to him. Cupping his face and looking into his eyes.

“I’m fine.” He sighed and patted your hand on his cheek before slowly lowering it, not letting go. He clasped your hands tighter together as they fell by your sides.

“I think it’s time we made our leave.”

Leto nodded, and you both left. Hand in hand.

The crowd had died down, but the music was still thumping. The bass booming as you got your coats at the door.

Abel skipped the vallet and you both walked. Where you were going you didn’t know. You couldn’t bring yourself to care either.

The moon was a crescent. A small sliver of white and silver, the air unforgivably cold. Abel let you clasp your arm in his as you both faced the night together.

“You’re planning to kill him?” He asked calmly. Like he wanted to know what you wanted for dinner.

“I am.”

He nodded, bouncing his head from side to side, weighing the pros and cons in his head.

“If you kill him, I can’t have you stay with me.”

He stopped walking, and so did you.

You looked into his eyes. What once brought you warmth was now chilling you to the bone. The moon is a far away thing. The sun may give it a glow, but it’s just dark rock far away in space for no one to see, but even then did it have an even colder, darker side.

“I guess that’s how it will be then.”

Abel’s jaw clenched. Closing his eyes, he turned away from you for just a moment.

When he opened them, he also opened his mouth to reply, but then he froze.

“Wh—“

“— they’re still on your neck?”

You scrunch your eyes in confusion. “What are you—“

“— why are they still on your neck?” Abel raised his voice. “The- where he bit you! Why are the holes still on your neck? Every other wound, scar, or bruise will heal as soon as you want it to, but you hold on to these?” He seethes at you, grabbing your arm.

You paused.

“Oh.”

“Answer me!” He hissed. His eyes were glowing, frantic and crazed as he looked at you.

You wanted to run your hands through his hair.

“I was thinking about looking at them in the mirror. I didn’t know I could control whether they stayed or not.”

He bristled, not exactly calming down, but he didn’t get angrier either.

“Do you know what I’ve been thinking this whole time?”

You shook your head. Not wanting to interrupt him.

“I can’t get the image of you and another vampire out of my mind. How you looked at him and how he looked at you! How you let his hands touch every inch of you and how you clearly wanted to touch every inch of him. His mouth on your skin!”

He threw his hands up. Taking a step away from you before whirling to face you once more.

“As soon as we stepped outside I wanted to drag you into that alley!”

“Abel—“

“Shut up!” He pushed you Into the wall of whatever building you two were in front of.

“I wanted to bite over whatever holes you wouldn’t let go of until they were ripped and raw. I wanted to compel you to not let them heal, so I could watch the ripped holes of your flesh bleed out and out. The tender meat of your neck and collar mangled by my mouth and my mouth alone.”

He was panting now. His voice softer.

“I wanted to erase him from you and claim you as my own. . . But you’d hate me for it. You would have never forgiven me, and vowed to kill me just like you do this other vampire called Fontaine.”

You watched his eyes frantically search your face as his chest heaved up and down.

“You’re right.” You swallowed. “I would have.”

You slowly raised your hand to his cheek and he nuzzled into your hand, briefly touching it with his lips. Tentatively, you brought it to his hair.

With a smile you sighed.

His hair was so soft. It was softer than anything you could have imagined. He closed his eyes as you ran your fingers through his hair over and over again, savoring the feeling.

“Thank you.” You whispered softly.

He opened his eyes. Much calmer now.

“Anytime.” The cold air made his breath visible as it fawned into the air over your face.

“I’m not going to stop you. I just want to make sure you really know what you’re getting yourself into.”

“I know.” You sighed.

He nodded, stepping away from the building and off of you. He let out a hand to keep you from stumbling back into the sidewalk.

“Let’s go home where it’s warm.”

-

“She said that?” Fontaine swallowed and sat down.

Slick was wincing as he stood, waiting for Fontaine to throw something.

“She did.” Yoyo fiddled with her hands in front of her.

“But did you not hear the other shit I said. About the doppelganger's and prophecy?”

“Now let’s not put the horses first before the carriage just yet. We don’t know for sure if it’s a prophecy.”

“Like hell we don’t!”

“Shut, the fuck, up.” Fontaine glared at them one by one.

“Either way, I think it’s time I go over there and find her before she finds me.”

Yo-yo started talking about what he should and shouldn’t do, and He was sure that as Slick opened his mouth to agree with whatever Yo-yo was saying, but

Fontaine waved them both off and with a hand walked out the door without saying a word.

Looking at the sky he sighed.

He might have five more hours left of moonlight before he needed to get inside somewhere. That was plenty of time for a heed start.

Stuffing his hands in his jacket pockets, he started heading out.

Every other person gave him some sort of smile or greeting. Not aware that he was going to be gone for some time.

Was it this time of night when you left him?

It’s only been a few hours since your tie to the clan was gone. There wasn't a big boom or some large wave of energy. Just a small trickle of something going away, forever.

He can’t let it go out like that.

Everyone demanded to know why.

Who is this girl Fontaine? Why did you bring her here? Why did you turn her?

He wanted to explain, he tried to, but even Yo-yo didn’t understand, so he just stopped explaining. He stopped talking about it.

He wished he could explain the way his mind was screaming at him, or maybe it was his soul burning, eating him alive from the inside out until he turned you.

An explainable force, or maybe his own selfishness was just that strong,

Fontaine shook his head and sighed.

No point in focusing on the past.

Reaching into his mind he looked over the memories Yo-yo had showed him a week ago of when she followed your path to New York and the trail of bodies you left.

It’s not possible for you to be stronger than him. You had only been turned ten years ago, and you fought the process so hard.

He tugged his jacket a little harder as the chill of the night started to settle further into his bones. His thoughts drifted to the first time he met you.

He remembered seeing you at that party around your friends. A literal light seemed to shine out of you, making you stand out amongst every person.

He couldn't help but stare at you as you bounded to and fro.

Even talking to you felt like a song in his ears. Like you were some witch putting him under a spell. Outside of your own aura, you made him feel seen. Truly and utterly seen.

When he turned he didn’t know what to do, and everything was so hectic and chaotic.

He was turned and had no idea. He remembered how he suffered. How scared and painful it was, but only for one day. He quickly made his way.

But stumbling around town one night, no one missed him. No one asked about him or wondered where he was. His so-called friends only acted as if he’d been shut in his house, keeping to himself for no reason at all.

Only the homeless old man outside the liquor store seemed to notice.

He pushed away the thoughts of everything that came next.

He hated thinking about finding out his life was a lie. That everyone had been turned and compelled to forget, so they can be observed like a big colony of fucking lab rats.

In a large field of grass, there were stray lines of paint and stray pieces of yellow tape.

Yo-yo had pulled up an article saying it was an animal attack. They all knew it was something else.

You were here.

Finding a tree with more than enough shade, he stumbled down underneath it and out his back to the trunk. Looking up, he watched the wind rustle the leaves.

Daylight would come soon.

He closed his eyes, continuing to think of you.

He wished he could take it back. The pain that is.

When he saw you and you talked to him, something in him started screaming.

He knew if he didn’t turn you, the screaming wouldn't stop. The buzzing underneath his skin would grow and grow and drive him crazy until he found you again.

He had to turn you. He didn’t know how or why, but he knew he was supposed to.

As soon as his lips touched your skin, he came to terms with the idea of you hating him. You’d hate him, but you’d still be with him. He could find a way to gain your trust, somehow make amends with you and beg for some type of forgiveness later, but at least he’d have you.

But once he turned you and took you somewhere safe to transition. Before he could even get the chance to make yours less painful and lovely as his, you fought every step of the process. You ended up in a coma, rejecting every little change to your body.

Everyone expected you to die.

But he couldn’t. He didn’t lose hope, he had to hope.

Because accepting a world where he killed you forever to be lost, is not one he could have accepted, so he’d hope.

But now. . .

He sighed.

He’d make it right. He didn’t know how, but by everything on this raft he’d find a way to make it right. There was nothing else to live for. There was no purpose. Everyone in the Glenn was free to do whatever they wanted to do.

So he’d focus his eternity of death, to begging for your forgiveness. . . . On you.

On quiet moments like this, if he’d closed his eyes and concentrated on you, he could hear your voice. He could feel your energy.

You thought of him sometimes. He could feel the anger and pain, your fury. But it would pitter out into nothing and then you’d be gone.

“Is he still alive?” Fontaine didn’t know that voice.

“Yes.” You huffed, closing a book and tossing it to the end of the bed.

“You don’t sound disappointed.”

Fontaine scrunched his brow and frowned.

He wasn’t in the woods anymore. He was in a bed, lying on top of plush cream sheets.

He opened his eyes and saw you.

Your large natural hair and how it fanned across your features and shaped your face. Your big brown eyes and how they seemed to grow bigger with adoration and fondness for the man on the other side of you.

“I won’t say anything to convince you, but you already know how I feel.”

There was another man on the other side of you. Tan skin and a dark head of hair. He looked rich. This bedroom looked like it belonged to a man that could buy the whole Glenn if he wanted.

Someone who doesn’t know they even exist and would probably never give a fuck about them either.

“What would you say to him,” you almost got up, but Abel put a hand on your shoulder, “I’m not telling you to actually do it. I’m just creating a hypothetical question.”

You sighed, and settled back down to the bed, snuggling closer to the strange rich man’s side.

Away from him.

He swallowed and momentarily licked his lips.

“If he was here right now,” Fontaine looked over to him and met his eyes. Briefly flashing an old yellow gold. Fontaine kept the same face, puffing his chest and clenching his jaw a bit, “what would you say to him.”

The had you had comfortably placed on his chest started to grab and squeeze at the fabric of his shirt.

“Why?” You huffed out a breath and sucked it back in a little too quickly, causing your voice to crack and Fontaine’s heart to break. “Why me? Why this way?”

“Fuck you!” You sobbed now, burying your face into his chest. “Fuck you for doing this to me! For taking me away from my family, for ruining my life!”

Fontaine woke up with a start. The air was hot.

The sun glaring just a few feet away from him outside the shade of the tree.

He closed his eyes and pushed away the feelings that were starting to rise within him. Ignoring that he had no idea how to make this right.

-

Fontaine’s eyes snapped open at the smell of blood. The chill of his own power coursed through his veins. The cold tendrils of his magic was something he wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to.

But it was fitting.

Before he ever had an ounce of magic, when he didn’t know his entire existence was a lie, he was often accused of icing people out, that he was too cold and rigid, never letting anyone in, that he was standoffish and rigid in his anger and retaliation. . . But that wasn’t true.

He felt a fire growing within him from the moment he saw you.

He’s been chasing the warmth of your glow that basked over him on your first night together. The heat of your skin burning his, reaching far down in his pores and burning his insides.

He was a moth and you were his flame.

As he followed the scent of blood the magic in his veins caused his pulse to race faster and he started running.

He didn’t know how. He couldn’t prove or explain it, but he knew you’d be near it. That when he got to the source of the blood, he’d see you.

He just needed to see you.

The trees were getting thicker, and the smell was stronger. He slowed down, stepping carefully in case you decided to run if you saw him. . . Or worse.

The man from the vision thing was there. He was wearing a long wool coat and suit. He rolled his eyes as he remembered the useless details about his wardrobe that Slick went on and on about.

A cigarette loose in between his fingers, he bit into the neck of a young light skinned man. Full figured and thick hair. He could see his face clearly despite how far he was standing. He had his vampire instinct magic bullshit to thank for that.

His heart swelled as he watched you standing to the side. Despite the situation, he smiled.

You were wearing baggy jorts and an oversized Nike shirt, he knew you paid way too much for. If he remembered correctly that was one of your dream pieces of clothing and from the off white cream sneakers you wore, you got your dream pair of shoes to match. You told him you were too scared of baggy clothing. You feared it made you look bigger then you actually were or sloppy or some shit like that.

This man though, this other man you been with had some typa money.

He smacked his teeth.

He could have copped all that and more for you if you let him.

“Wait,” the man held out a hand as you leaned in too close to him and the boy, well boy might too harsh, but Fontaine wasn’t exactly thrilled about your relationship with this stranger and whatever the fuck you were getting up to without him, “take a step back.”

You smacked your teeth and then groaned into the air. The gold in your mouth twinkling underneath the moonlight.

His heart stopped.

You kept them.

The air around Fontaine grew chilly, frost starting to form in the grass and leaves underneath his feet, and it’s not because it was in the middle of winter on the east coast.

“Pleaaase, hurry up Abel.” You begged. “You said I could start feeding again.

Fontaine didn’t know too much about being a vampire, but he knew the signs of overeating. And you had more than enough over the last few months. It’s not too soon to start eating again, but with a strict schedule and guidance, it might not.

Who the fuck does this guy think he is?

Abel paused, taking a step back from the human and gave you a hard look.

“It’s not too late to go home and call it a night.” Taking one last drag from the cigarette in his hand, he put it out on the human’s skin, but instead of protesting or crying out in pain he sounded like he. . . enjoyed it.

Fontaine wanted to be here a little less now.

What kind of freaky messed up shit was this? Did you like this? Are you even into this kinda shit?

“Abel, please.” Your eyes were wide now, pupils so large and black Fontaine swore he could see the moon reflecting off of them. Your lips pouting as your wide button nose scrunched up from the cold.

“You aren’t some fucking wild animal with instincts and a dumb fucking brain. You are a vampire,” Abel growled at you with bared fangs, “act like it.”

He sighed. Balling his fist. “Reach deep down within you, that fucking hunger, that urge to just devour,” he looked into your eyes, hard.

You nodded. Mouth closed.

“Control it. Fight it.”

He bit into the boys next.

The sound of Abel's teeth breaking into his skin sounded like a grape snapping, when he chomped his jaw and sucked the sounds of flesh mushing and wrangling outside of its natural state were the only sounds they could hear, amplified with their supernatural hearing abilities.

He moaned as Abel began to suck the blood from his body, one, two to three seconds before he licked at some of the blood that was rapidly falling out of the gaping gash on his neck.

You licked your lips and swallowed.

“You're doing so well Jay.”

Jay kept his eyes closed. “Really?” He asked meekly, probably unaware of just how much blood was leaving his body.

You have a pointed look at Abel and he gave you one to match. Fontaine had no idea what was goin on because neither one of you we’re saying anything.

Abel took a few steps over to a tree. Keeping his eyes on you and Jay.

“Wait.” Was all he said.

As the silence stretched in the clearing of the forest, snow began to fall. Decorating the crimson in a backdrop of white.

Abel nodded and you were on Jay in an instant.

Not even thinking of removing your grill, you dove right in. Placing your mouth over the mangled ripped marks on his neck that Abel had left. There was no need for you to have to bite him, but Jay seemed just as satisfied.

“That’s enough.” Abel’s voice was barely above a whisper, but you immediately pulled off of Jay and stopped.

You froze, waiting.

Nothing.

You looked up to Abel with a smile.

“I did it!”

“I told you, you could do it.” He smiled softly, letting out a breath of relief through his nose.

He walked over to you, his footsteps crunching in the snow, and placed a hand on either side of your face, smiling from ear to ear.

You gave him a smile too match and his face faltered for a second.

Then he kissed you.

Fontaine's heart stopped cold as he watched him nudge your mouth open with his as his hands slid up your sides to the back of your neck as his tongue slipped into yours. Hating, how you two seemed to be sharing the taste of Jay’s blood off of one another.

“Wait,” Abel stopped breathlessly, biting his wrist he shoved it a little too quickly and strongly into Jay’s mouth, almost knocking him over. Jay cried out a little but took one suck and shoved his wrist away. “You're alright, son.” Abel patted him on the back as he dry heaved over the snow.

“It’s always so gross!” He sucked in a large breath of air, “every time!”

Fishing his hand into his pocket he gave you a small smile before presenting a large wad of cash towards you.

“T-t-thank you.” He looked at Abel who only stared at him. He wasn’t glaring, but he had a certain way of holding himself that put people off of him. This strange air of polite superiority that intimated in ways people were unfamiliar with.

“I.. better go.” He gave you one more timid smile before waving and stuffing his hands in his now ripped hoodie pockets, trailing away in the snow.

“Are we like, hookers or something? Did he just give us money like in a sex worker way?”

“No,” Abel raised an eyebrow, “he gave you money like a sex worker or hooker.”

You slapped him, biting your cheek to keep from smiling. “We should have taken him home.” Was all you said.

“Hell be fine.” Abel huffed softly, the cold air making his breath form a small white cloud in your face, making you smile even wider.

“Maybe—“

“You been a good bitch for your new master?” Fontaine gave you a crooked cruel smile.

It was one thing to see another man kiss you, but the way you were smiling at him? The way you looked at this other man like he was the world? That you trusted him with everything? When you looked at him as if he was your safe place? That. He could not take.

He was about to yell out how this new man was your new pimp, but he was unprepared with how fast you flung your entire body at him.

He was unprepared for your hands to almost ring around his neck and pop it off his shoulders, but he already had your hands in front of him in an iron grip as he moved to the side and let you grab his arm.

“Huh,” he laughed bitterly in your face, “you really do wanna kill me, huh?”

“And I fucking can too.”

Fontaine wanted to keep fighting you, for you to keep yelling at him because if he couldn’t get you to love him, he’d be happy to have you hate him. Pain or pleasure, happy or sad, at least he was around you.

Your hand hurled toward his face faster than his eyes could naturally perceive so he pulled from his own magic to counterattack, preparing to move just as fast as you, but as time slowed around you two, he could only focus on your face.

Your eyes.

From the corners of your irises, tendrils of purple were swarming the dark natural brown of your eyes, and he froze.

“You’re. . . Purple.”

His words made you miss and stumble.

“What the fuc—“

In a blink, you were gone.

The man in a coat . . . Abel, was the only person left standing in front of him. His chest heaving up and down as he breathed out his mouth. He clenched his jaw before closing his mouth. His gaze was hard and steady.

Fontaine squared his shoulders, but otherwise didn’t move.

“This ain’t about you,” Fontaine fought the urge to bare his teeth, “what we have is between us.”

“Well it becomes about me when a vampire you recently turned comes into my territory claiming it happened without their consent.”

“Aye man. I don’t know wha—“

Abel was on him in an instant. Shoving Fontaine back into the nearest tree, making him cough up blood.

“You’re weak,” Abel spoke through his teeth. Fontaine opened his mouth to say something but Abel only bounced his head off the tree. “I’m not talking about how old you are. I’m talking about how you had one chance to own up to your mistakes and lay everything out on the table with her, but you decided to use pretty fucking words instead.”

He looked into Fontaine's eyes, waiting for him to say something. When he didn’t, he pushed off of him.

“You’re a childish coward.”

“And you’re better?” Fontaine balled his fist when Abel didn’t reply.

“Just because you’re the first fucking thing she ran into while she was running away doesn’t make you better.”

“I don’t know anything about you to hate you. I can barely determine if I even have the energy to think about you.”

“I could say the same thing about you, moutherfucka.”

Abel leveled Fontaine with a look. He was standing rigid and he could tell he was getting on his fucking nerves but he wouldn’t fight him. Most vampires, witches, or whatever else magic bullshit was out there would have tried to hurt him by now.

“I’m sure we both are more than strong enough to snap one another’s necks, but,” Abel’s eyes flashed an old yellow, “I need you. . . She needs you.”

“That’s not what she said last night.” Fontaine shook his head and sat on the snow.

“And I gave you more than enough time to try and fix that, but you’d rather stumble around throwing petty insults with your tail between your legs.”

“Then how. . . “ Fontaine held up his hands out in front of him before sighing, “how do you know she needs me?”

Abel pulled his coat to the side to put his hands into his suit pockets, the cold starting to get to him.

“It’s a prophecy,” Fontaine’s head snapped up and Abel needed to look into the sky, “I’m not good with this magic shit, but I know rules and regulations when I see them.”

“Fucking magic. . .” Fontaine muttered.

“Yeah,” Abel smiled weakly before continuing, “there’s three older vampires who look exactly like us, I think you know one.”

“I’m not talking about it.” Fontaine let his legs fall out straight and he stuffed his hands into his jacket.

“Well, we’re destined to be together, any lifetime, any circumstance, and usually as vampires. We apparently can’t live without one another.”

Fontaine nodded.

“And she wants to kill me.”

“She wants to kill you.”

Fontaine and Abel let the silence stretch between them. Watching the snow fall and cover everything in sight. The moon was large and white and it shined down and gave the forest a picturesque glow.

“Her eyes were purple.”

[hobies-princealbert]

Hi I love your page sm and I wanted to share some fontaine hcs:

- taine gets really sweet when he’s drunk around you he just wants you to hold him fr

- when y’all are high together he gets really touchy too he’s feels like your skin is so soft and he can’t stop touching you 🥹

- he also gropes you when y’all are going to bed. like he CANNOT sleep if he’s not groping your chest or butt he basically makes biscuits like a cat

- he also might fuck your thighs if you’re too tired to take your pants off all the way

- imagine him just moaning in your ear all sweet and telling you how much he loves you, asking for kisses and eye contact in return

AAAAHH OMFG- ((o(^∇^)o))

I love these so muchhhhhh. I love how touchy!fontaine will always be a constant. the man is touched starved and we can tell. he really do be loving all up on his partner. he wants all the kisses and hugs in the world (lord knows he never got much of them b4 but now that you're here he's become an addict)

(I literally had a gif saved for a post bout how taine would be kneading his partners tits like he got 10 orders of biscuits to fill. So you basically read my mind💀💀)

[emwritesfootball]

Clingy | Tyrone Mings

Hi, would you be able to do a longer, really fluffy, clingy Tyrone one, thank youuuu

A/N: Written a lot of filth the last couple days, so here’s some fluff. Also, I know I have a blurb or something with a clingy Ty but I cannot find it for the life of me so if there are similarities to that, just disregard xo

Warnings: slight mention of sex

- - -

The sun was already streaming in through the window, alerting you to the fact that it was morning but you couldn’t care less. You and Tyrone had had a late night the night before, staying up and watching a movie that turned into going to bed well past midnight. 

You rolled over, greeted by Tyrone still lying in bed next to you. Usually he was up well before you, either getting an early start to the day with a workout or checking in on one of his various endeavors outside of football.

“I don’t wanna get out of bed,” you murmured, voice still thick with sleep as you shifted to rest your head on his chest. 

Ty instinctively pulled you closer, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Me, either. It’s the first morning in a long time that I don’t have anything pressing.”

“Relax, baby. You deserve it.” You knew how hard Tyrone worked in all aspects of his life; sometimes you didn’t know how he did it, juggling a football academy, an interior decorating firm and his personal life outside of his football career. 

You traced the compass tattooed on his chest and moved to the words on his collarbone when you were done. 

“I’ve missed mornings like this,” he whispered, taking your hand in his and bringing to his lips. In one quick motion, you were underneath him and his face was buried in the crook of your neck.

“Me, too. I’ve missed having my own personal weighted blanket.” The two of you giggled, cuddling and kissing as you enjoyed your lazy morning.

When you finally got out of bed, both of you were practically attached at the hip. Tyrone didn’t leave your side as he joined you in the shower, and you followed him into the kitchen to cook breakfast together, feeding each other bites of toast and forkfuls of fruit while you waited for the eggs and bacon to cook.

You migrated to the sofa after breakfast, Ty with some interior design book and you with the latest book recommendation. He leaned back so you could lay between his legs, your back pressed against his chest while the two of you read. You exchanged kisses like page turns, losing track of time as the sun started to fall.

“Shall we order in?” Ty asked, already placing an order at your favourite nearby takeaway place, barely waiting for you to answer.

The food ended up like the two of you, all mixed into one big plate that the two of you shared. 

“This has been the most perfect day,” you said, climbing into Ty’s lap for cuddles and kisses.

“We should definitely do this more often,” he agreed, his hands coming up to wrap around your waist and trace circles on your back.

You went to bed entangled in one another, slow lazy kisses turning into slow lazy sex to end the day. 

If only you could do it all again tomorrow.

[megamindsecretlair]

Girlll... i cant get outta my mind the idea of tyrone fkn his girl soo good and deep.. like it’s so emotionally relieving this nigga damn near givin out free therapy

her tearful eyes rolling back while she chants “where u been all my life”

They both sprunggg. and ofc tyrone’s smug ass is flattered & making it worse by hitting that spot over and over. Talking sweet but so dirty & taking over all her senses <33 oooh

A/N: Couldn't get this ask outta my mind so sorry to the ones that came before!! I guess I never updated ya'll. My bad LOL. I hadn't expected the last Tyrone fic to be the last before my vacation. I'm baack. But came back with a nasty cold. So I'm not sure when fics will resume full time, but this was too good to pass up! Thanks for trusting me with it, I hope I did it justice! I wanted it to be a drabble but just kept going. There's worst problems to have so I won't complain. Also, more apologies to the Tyrone asks. I've started Snowfall soooo Franklin Saint fics incoming! This taglist is getting so huge! Thank you! If you want to be added/removed, let me know! Make sure your ages are in your bios, I won't tag empty blogs.

Worship

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

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. Smut, PWP, cursing, PIV, oral (fem receiving), cum play, possession kink, size kink, all consensual. Praise kink. Use of n-word. FLUFF. Soft Tyrone.

Summary: *see ask* Date night turns a little steamy.

Word Count: 3,251k

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

There was no special occasion. The stars aligned for you to have a rare night with nothing to do. Tyrone didn’t have anywhere to be that night. He took you out to dinner and you had so much fun getting ready for him. 

You threw on the dress from the back of your closet that you had been saving. Took your time with your makeup and hair. The anticipation made it a treat. You had been out with Tyrone before, but tonight felt good. 

At dinner, conversation flowed naturally. It was easy and Tyrone made you laugh more than you had before. You laughed to the point that the other dinner patrons gave you scathing looks. But you and Tyrone only had eyes for each other.

It has always been like that between you two. Your eyes found each other across rooms or down the aisles in stores. Tyrone pretended to hate running errands with you. But you had a sneaking suspicion that he liked the domestic shit. He liked when something caught your eye and you’d run back to him bouncing on your toes, giving him puppy eyes, and asking him to buy things for you.

You hated asking for shit. He tried to break you of that habit. You still didn’t like it so you compromised with little shit you found in stores like fuzzy socks or a new stuffed toy. 

After dinner, Tyrone was in no hurry to rush you back home. Instead, he took you to the Venice pier and you walked along the boardwalk at sunset. The California sun was lazily slipping below the horizon and people were still trying to hawk their wares before it got too late and the cops came around. 

People skated in the park and other couples were walking along. The storefronts had people rushing in and out. Tyrone held your hand and listened to you babble about anything that popped into your head. The annoying neighbors, the yard needed fixing, your stupid ass coworkers. 

“One of these days, I’ma convince you to let me take care of you,” Tyrone said. He pulled you into him and wrapped his arm around your shoulders. This close to the beach, a chill spread from the breeze off of the ocean. 

“You already take care of me,” you said. Tyrone kissed your cheek. 

“More. I know you hate that job,” he said. 

And you did. You had been together for a while, but there were still some things you were too proud to accept. “Being taken care of” wasn’t in your vocabulary. You were learning. You needed more time. And Tyrone was content to wait…mostly. 

You looked up and found yourself on the long stretch of road in between Santa Monica and Venice. Under the pier, Tyrone stopped and slipped off his kicks. You took off your sandals and you trudged along the sandy beach until you were stepping into the icy water. Your feet sank into the wet sand and squished in between your toes.

Tyrone stepped behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist. He placed his chin on your shoulder and inhaled your sweet perfume. He kissed your neck. He stepped into you until no part of your backside didn’t touch his front. And you noticed that he was a little excited.

“I’m always excited around your sexy ass,” he whispered in your ear. 

You giggled and shook your head. It amazed you that you were still so needy for each other. You were needy for each other’s time, touch, and words. You stood and watched the horizon. 

Oranges, pinks, and purples meshed and collided to form a painting in the sky. The few seagulls flying around were trying to scavenge leftover food from asshole tourists and LA natives. The salty air was refreshing and cool.

“I want to give you the universe, baby,” he said with a sigh. 

You rubbed his hand around your waist. “You already give me so much,” you said.

Both of your tones were soft and wistful. This moment required a certain reverence for some reason. The joining of two people so madly in love that it hurt to contain it. On more than one occasion, you found yourself out of breath with how much you were in love with this man. 

“Sometimes I feel like it’s not enough,” he said. 

You turned around in his arms until you could look into his dark brown eyes. You wrapped your hands around his broad shoulders. 

“You know that I love you for you, not for what you give me. You are enough for me,” you said. 

Tyrone smirked and kissed you. You thought it was going to be a little peck but he captured your lips with his and kept exploring your mouth. His tongue licked your lips and pressed inside. He swallowed your sighs and held you closer, his arms tightening around you. 

He withdrew from your lips slowly, reluctantly. He rubbed his nose against yours. “I fuckin’ love you,” he said.

“I fuckin’ love you. Take me home, Tyrone,” you said.

Tyrone chuckled and kissed you again, stepping close until you felt his noticeable bulge. “Shit, I’on know if I can make it that far,” he said. 

You giggled against his lips. He said shit like that until he had you folded like a lawn chair and had cum at least three times. 

Tyrone pulled away from you and brought his hand up to caress your cheek. How did you get so lucky to find this man? This man radiated love and strength with every dip of his lean as he walked and the set of his shoulders. He took every one of your insecurities about being a thick girl and mildly shy and tossed them in the wind. You felt him. You never questioned his love.

Yet and still, you didn’t know what you did to luck out on him. You thanked whoever was listening that you got to enjoy him for as long as possible. 

Tyrone dusted as much sand off of your legs as he could manage. You walked back to the car with anticipation building in between you like a living thing. Tyrone kept touching you. Finding ways to “stabilize you” and “make sure you’re straight”. He’d pull you into his side to step around a tiny ass rock or pull you closer to whisper something nasty in your ear.

“I can’t wait to taste between your legs. Bet that pussy ready for me, ain’t it?” 

“Tyrone!” You’d say and squeeze his hand. Your cheeks would burn and your heart would skip a beat. 

“Tell me she ready for me,” he whispered against your neck. 

“You get on my nerves!” You couldn’t form the words. Of course you were ready for him. Every time you saw him, your panties were instantly soaked and hot. Tyrone licked your neck and you giggled. 

“Boy, focus on gettin’ us home!” Tyrone laughed and you made it to the car. He had towels in his trunk so that you didn’t have to get sand absolutely everywhere. He knelt on the ground and cleaned off your legs one by one, smirking up at you while he played with your feet. 

You swatted at his head and giggled. Tyrone cleaned off his legs as well and you climbed into his car. Tyrone sped all the way home, rubbing your leg with one hand while his other stayed on the steering wheel. 

You felt like you were going to crawl out of your skin with need. Everything was in hyperfocus. The bright street lights took on a hazy hue blending between the golden lights and reds and greens of the traffic light. 

Blessedly, you made it home. Tyrone barely pulled into the driveway before he was opening the door for you and yanking you out of the car. Your giggles mixed with his huffs as he slammed the car door and pulled you into the house. 

You were apart for half a second while he closed and locked the door. Then his hands were searching for yours in the dark, your lips seeking each other. Your kisses were rushed, hurried, needy. 

He pushed you into your bedroom, forcing you to walk backwards. But you weren’t scared. You trusted him to guide you. 

He turned on the light and it stung your eyes for a bit. You blinked a few times until you could see the raw desire in his eyes. 

His breaths were coming so fast that you saw the rise and fall of his chest. “Turn around,” he said.

You turned as he said. He stepped close and his warm breaths fanned over the back of your neck. It raised goosebumps on your flesh. 

He unzipped your dress and let it slide over your skin until it pooled on the floor. He sucked in a sharp breath as it revealed your black lingerie set. A simple bra and panties but there were strategically set lacy parts that were like peek-a-boo windows. 

“You’re so fuckin’ gorgeous,” he said. 

“Sweet talker,” you said with a giggle. 

“I’m serious ‘bout that shit,” he said. 

He spun you around and kissed you. He took off his jacket and his black T-shirt and then rejoined your lips. His jeans went next until it was just his dark boxer briefs. Fuck, he was beautiful. Thick. He had a beautiful ass, strong thighs, and a wide chest.

Tyrone slipped your panties off and groaned at how some parts clung to you. Cool air kissed your pussy and you shivered. With no warning, Tyrone pushed you onto the bed and spread your legs. 

You yelped as your ass hung off of the bed. He knelt on the floor and threw your legs over his shoulders, spreading your further. He bit his lip as he looked at your pussy.

“I’m the luckiest nigga in the world,” he said. 

He suckled on your pussy, immediately catching on your clit and you cried out. “Oh fuck, oh fuck,” you yelled. 

You weren’t prepared at all. You had no idea how fast he was going to devour you. Tyrone always kept you guessing. Sometimes it was fast, sometimes it was slow. Your fingers dug into your bed sheets as he fully supported the lower half of you. 

That annoying voice in the back of your head wanted to protest. He couldn’t support all of you.  

You told that voice to shut the fuck up and enjoy his lips on you. You moaned as he swirled his tongue. In no time at all, you were already cumming on his tongue with a loud cry. 

“Oh shit,” you said.

Tyrone chuckled and nuzzled the top of your pussy, kissing you there. “Mhm, that was too quick. Gimme another one,” he said.

“But–” 

Tyrone went back to flicking your clit with his tongue. You were still sensitive from your quick orgasm and your hand flew to his head to push. Tyrone flattened his tongue and licked you from entrance to clit.

“Move yo fuckin’ hand,” he growled and returned to eating you out. That didn’t even seem the proper term. You moved your hand but you wanted to put it back. He added a finger to push inside you. Then he added two and pumped it into you while he continued to lick, suck, and slurp up all your juices. 

You were cumming again, cursing and squirming. Tyrone kissed your thighs as you wiggled and writhed beneath him. He nipped the skin between your thigh and pussy and you jerked. He laughed evilly as he stood up. 

“Let me see them titties,” he said. 

“Tyrone, please, I can’t move,” you said. 

“The hell you can’t. C’mon beautiful,” he said. He grabbed your hands and made you sit up. You were boneless and leaned forward to lean your forehead against his stomach. He smelled so damn clean and sexy. He chuckled and rubbed the back of your neck. 

You kissed his stomach as you took forever to slip off your bra. “Mmm,” Tyrone moaned as you bared yourself to him. 

You scooted further up the bed so that he could climb on. “I ever tell you how fuckin’ sexy you are?” Tyrone asked.

“Shut up,” you mumbled. 

He chuckled. Your body was sensitive to the touch and the bastard knew it. He kissed your belly, licked your stretch marks, and settled in between your legs. He kissed and bit his way to your nipples.

You jerked beneath him with a hiss. “Shit,” you said. 

“So. Fuckin’. Sexy,” Tyrone said. With each word, he kissed your titties. After he spoke, he laved his tongue around your nipple and sucked hard enough to make you buck off of the bed. 

“I promise, I’ll give you everything,” he said. He kissed his way up your skin until he got to your neck. He paid special attention to kissing your neck and licking your pulse point. You ran your hands over his back and neck, rubbing the back of his, and playing with his thick braids. 

“I want to give you a real home, baby. Buy you everything you need,” he said. He kissed up your jaw and kissed you. 

“Tyrone,” you whispered against his lips. 

“I want to make you comfortable. I only wanna see you smile,” he said. 

“You already make me the happiest woman ever,” you said. You tugged on his braids until he leaned up and looked into your eyes. 

“I’m so happy already, Tyrone,” you said. 

He gave you that rare sexy smile. Where he smiled wide and it transformed his face. Your heart shattered. He killed you with that smile.

“I can’t help it. You make me wanna be a better man,” he said. He kissed you, cutting off whatever you were going to say. 

As you kissed, his hands explored your body. He rubbed and kneaded your beasts. He squeezed your nipples to the point of pain and then rubbed the sting away. He grasped your waist and slipped his hands around your ass. He grunted and massaged your booty. 

You moaned and brought your legs up to wrap around his hips. “Mhm,” he said. He pushed your legs until your knees almost hit your shoulders.

His hand worked at his briefs until he was able to free himself. The tip of his dick gathered up your arousal and pushed inside of you. “Fuuuuck,” you moaned. 

He sank in inch by inch with a clipped moan. He kept eye contact as he slid home and you opened your mouth but no sound came out. He stole the air from your lungs like a nasty thief. “Breathe baby,” he commanded. 

You panted. You couldn’t get a full breath. He stopped sliding in. A smirk played on his lips while you adjusted to his size.

“Dammit,” you struggled to say. 

“Relax, baby. I’m gonna make you feel so good.” He kissed you, pressing his tongue inside. 

Your nails dug into his shoulder while you tried to accommodate him. Tyrone kissed his way to your ear. 

“I know you want this dick, so quit fuckin’ playing with me.”

His deep voice and nasty words made you clench around him and he slid in more. He chuckled and kissed your ear. “You like it when I talk nasty, don’t you?” 

“Mhm,” you nodded. 

“Pussy so fuckin’ tight. Open up, baby. Let me give you all of it,” he said. He licked the shell of your ear and you moaned. 

Tyrone pushed his hips in and he stretched you out. “With yo pretty ass. I’m so fuckin’ lucky to be with you,” he said.

You took a deep breath and managed a weak laugh. “I’m the lucky one. You make me feel so good,” you said. 

Tyrone bottomed out and hit some spot inside of you that made you bow your back and cry out. “There’s my fuckin’ spot. My girl need that shit deep, don’t you?” 

He was impossibly deep. It felt like he was in your heart. You were practically folded in half. Tyrone pulled out and then slid back in faster. For every slide out, he came back in twice as hard and made you cry out each time. 

“Oh fuck, Tyrone. Wait!” You said. He was bouncing you so hard, that the top of your head grazed the headboard. It didn’t hurt, but if he slammed any harder, he’d send you through the wall. The thought alone made your pussy clench around him and he groaned. You brought a hand up to brace against the headboard and protect your head. 

“Can’t,” Tyrone said. He placed his hands on the back of your thighs as leverage and slammed into you over and over. He pounded relentlessly. 

You cried. “Please, please,” you chanted over and over. The hand not on the headboard was pushing at his chest. But not to push him away. Just to steady you and match his rhythm. 

“Fuck, missed this. Missed you. Missed my pussy,” he said in between grunts. His eyes were locked on yours. On your expressions and pathetic whining. Sweat beaded on his head and ran down the side of his face, disappearing into his light beard. 

“Tyrone…” your voice was breathless. Your throat burned from your harsh breaths. 

“So fuckin’ beautful. Look how you take my dick. You takin’ all of it. ‘Cause you deserve it, don’t you, baby?” 

“I’m…” You couldn’t speak. Your eyes were rolling into the back of your head. You saw an entire universe of stars in the back of your eyelids. Tears ran down your cheeks. Your body tensed before you exploded and shattered. Your body broke apart, came back together, and ripped apart again. 

Tyrone was saying something but you couldn’t hear him. Your moans drowned out all sound. Tyrone kept pumping into you as if he was truly trying to fuck you through the wall. He joined you and unloaded inside of you. He pumped you full of him and the filthy squelching was like its own music.

Tyrone stayed inside of you and moved every so often. You were surprised that he was still hard. He rotated his hips and you moaned, pushing at his chest. 

“Where have you been all my life,” you cried. Your legs were still pressed against your chest. It should hurt. But Tyrone knew your limits. And he wasn’t done wringing every last orgasm out of you tonight. 

“Prayin’ for you,” he said. His lips hovered over yours so that they were touching but not fully kissing. 

You couldn’t take anymore. He was too sweet. Too perfect. He gave and gave and you didn’t know how you could repay him for everything. For healing things inside of you that you hadn’t realized were broken. For seeing all the cracks inside of you and pouring love into them. 

You shook and cried and he kissed your cheeks. He kissed them both, alternating between the two. You were sure he tasted the saltiness of your tears but he didn’t seem to care. He kissed them anyway, looking into your eyes. Right when you stopped moaning, he’d move his hips and remind you that you were still connected. Still joined. That his cum was still oozing out of you, aided by your arousal. 

“I will protect you as long as I breathe, baby. You’re mine, forever,” he said. Then he kissed you and proved for the rest of the night that you were his.

&&&

Loved this? There's more! The Secret Tyrone Files Masterlist

[sageispunk]

Fontaine NSFW Alphabet 🖤

pairing: Fontaine x black! (fem) reader

wordcount: 4.7k (def the longest thing i've written so far)

warnings: besides a mention of gunplay (letter R-risk), i have no warnings for you <3

A/N: inspired by finally rewatching TCT after a few months of avoiding it LOL but feel free to follow my sideblog @sageispunklibrary and turn on notifs to be updated when i post!!

a: aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Fontaine is so much more gentle afterwards than you’d expected. He’s really just a big ass teddy bear–once he’s satisfied with the amount of orgasms the both of you have totaled up for the night, he cleans you up and then himself, bringing you a glass of ice cold water (you had to get him to invest in a water filter for his fridge) and maybe a quick snack before letting you rest on his chest. The two of you tend to play either one of your comfort shows until you fall asleep, or an old-school r&b mixtape is playing in the CD player with all the lights out. Either way, your ear is comfortably resting directly above his thumping heart while his fingers massage gentle circles into your scalp, his soft lips leaving kisses on your forehead as you snuggle into him. 

b: body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His favorite body part of himself would be his arms, halfway due to all the work he’s put into building them, and halfway due to your own love for them. Nothing would make him feel more like a bad bitch than the way you’d watch him lifting from across the street, on your own porch, half-pretending to read one of your newest library loans. When you’d accidentally make eye-contact, he would continue with his set, almost cockily nodding his head up at you, grinning on the inside at the way your bottom lip was firmly held between your teeth. Your own eyes wide and fully taking in the sight of his sweaty body, especially those arms that were so big and so strong, and always kept your body glued to his in those late night moments of passion that you shared.

His favorite body part of yours was your tummy. When you first moved into the neighborhood, he couldn’t help but notice your natural inclination to have your belly out, in a crop top, in a bandeau, a bikini top–every time you stepped out the house, he would fight mental battles to keep his dick down in his sweats. You looked so soft, with your lil rolls and faded stretch marks, not to mention the perfect piece of silver jewelry that you kept on your belly button. When you first started hanging out, you couldn’t help but notice his eyes always lingering on your tummy, and for a moment, it made you slightly self-conscious about it. That is, until you became closer, physically, and he would show you just how much he loved your body, with his big fingers caressing your soft skin as he traced your stripes, and his lips laying gentle kisses along each curve..It was his favorite place to rest and worship.

c: cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Fontaine cums a lot. Like, a lot. You sometimes joke about getting a glass to see if he could fill it to the top. (He brushes you off but you’ll wear him down one day). He prefers to cum inside of you though, so both of you can feel his release, and especially so he can watch it all drip out of you when you’re too exhausted to move. It’s his way of claiming you, marking his territory in a sense (and he couldn’t wait until your birth control was ready to come out of your arm, just so he could watch his seed grow inside of you). His second favorite spot to cum was on your lower belly, after a good session of fucking you hard and deep with your feet touching the headboard, making you squirt over and over again until neither of you could take it anymore. He’d pull out, groaning and stroking furiously until his milky nut spilled out over your brown skin, rubbing it in with his sensitive tip as he empties out. (Bonus points if you swipe all his cum up with your fingers and stick them in your mouth, swallowing it all down while he watches you–he’d be ready to go again right after that).

d: dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Fontaine’s dirty secret is his foot fetish. He’s not super freaky about it, but he does loveee to rub on your feet when you rest your legs across his lap, and suck on your toes anytime he has you laid back with your legs on his shoulders. And when you realize he loves your cute lil feet so much, you start letting him pick out the color every time you go to the salon, which gets him even more excited to play with your feet. He knows you’re ticklish so he tries not to mess around too much, but he does love to watch you squirm as his tongue wiggles itself between toes, knowing that you could feel each spark of electricity running all the way from your feet directly to your throbbing pussy. 

 e: experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He’s experienced, like look at him, he’s had his fair share of slutting it up, but the two of you don’t talk about your past flings or relationships because they’re irrelevant, plus you both tend to get a little jealous. You’re glad for his experience though, because there hasn’t been a time where you’ve fucked and you were left without an orgasm–he typically makes you cum about two or three times before he even does. He likes to take care of you, and he knows how to take his time to study your body and pay attention to what makes you completely unravel for him, and if you have to thank all the lovely women he was with before you for all the dutiful patience he has with you, then you will. Hypothetically.

f: favorite position (this goes without saying)

Fontaine’s favorite position is cowgirl. He loves to watch you take control, to show him how much you want it. He can also see everything in this position, except your ass of course, but he makes up for that by having at least one hand firmly planted on a cheek the whole time, roughly slapping it every now and then. He can never make up his mind when it comes to watching you ride him, eyes wandering everywhere–from your pleasure-ridden face and scrunched up eyebrows, to your breasts bouncing and swaying in his face, hard nipples and beautiful dark areolas damn near making him drool down his chin, that soft tummy he loves so much, jiggling with every movement you make on top of him, and lastly–that sopping wet cunt of yours. His eyes watch your pussy swallow him whole, covering every inch of his throbbing length in your juices and cream, the stickiness dripping down onto him and coating his own trimmed base, the sounds emanating from where you meet downright filthy and almost pornographic. You love to tease him in this position, especially once you prop yourself up on your feet with your hands on his shoulders, riding slow and watching his eyes get lower as he gets closer. He tries his hardest to keep his legs from shaking, especially once you start bouncing and teasing only his tip, with a drunken grin on your face. Another reason he loves this position so much is because he can so quickly snatch that power right back from you, especially in moments like these. Planting his feet down on the mattress and gripping onto your waist, he begins thrusting up into you like there’s no tomorrow, immediately pulling screams and cries out of you and demanding that you keep your teary eyes on him the entire time. 

g: goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

It depends on the mood tbh. Usually he’s more serious and quite determined to get you there, mind focused on you and your pleasure…but there will always going to be moments where the two of you try out a new position and it’s not going very well, or you’re a bit too pent up and trying to blindly undress while making out and your faces collide in a rather unpleasant way…moments like these are where he’s more likely to get a little goofy with you, smiling and chuckling at the silliness of it all. These are probably the most intimate times you have with him.

h: hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Ngl, before he met you, he was just letting it all grow out how it wanted to, thick curly pubes spreading down from his happy trail—which you love to tickle and kiss on—but he started trimming down there, not wanting the hair to get in your way when you’re busy blowing his mind away, literally. Sometimes you think he’s figured out that you actually love the way his pubes slightly tickle your nose when you get all the way down to the base. 

i: intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Fontaine is very intimate, especially when the two of you are alone, in the comfort of his or your home. He always has to be touching on you—rubbing, caressing, massaging, kissing. And it’s 10x worse when you’re in the bed. Once you’ve passed the foreplay and teasing stage of your nightly passions, he can’t stand for your body to be separated from his. His big body enveloped yours, especially when he was on top, closing you in and creating a warm, safe barrier from the outside world. Holding your hands as he pinned them against the pillows, stroking deep into you with a strong and unbeatable rhythm. Eye-contact is huge for him as well, at any time of the day, in any position. Your beautiful brown eyes never failed to hypnotize him, sending him into a trance in which his only duty was to leave you shaking and spent on his bed. 

j: jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Generally, he doesn’t masturbate much, he’s too busy trying to take care of business most of the time. But since you started sending daily pics to his phone of you…after your showers, in bed, during a bath, nearly anywhere you could show a lil extra skin…He never cared for having a smartphone, other than the fact that everyone had one these days, but you made a habit of texting him spontaneous nudes, he knew there was no going back. At this point, you’ve damn near Pavlov’d him with the buzzing of his phone, once he saw your name in the notifications, his dick began to harden almost immediately. It was becoming a problem, he’d have to dip out of wherever he was just to calm himself down. Driving to an empty parking lot or a quiet alley to release his frustrations into his palm, half angry at you for teasing him while you knew he was busy, but also at himself for being so weak for you. When you gave him the bright idea to get you back by sending his own vids in response…there was no turning back for either of you. And when he really wants to fuck with you, he’ll take the sound off the video before he sends, knowing how frustrated you’d get at seeing him spill his nut all over his fingers and lap without all his beautiful grunts and moans. 

k: kink (one or more of their kinks)

Fontaine’s top favorite kinks: edging and breeding. With edging, he loves to be both on the receiving and giving ends with you. There’s no better feeling than when he can order you to keep your hands behind your back as you lie against your soft down pillows, while he kneels between your legs, alternating between teasing your skin with the tip of his tongue, sucking on your precious, sensitive clit, and notching his digits deep inside you to stimulate your g-spot. Never letting you cum immediately, cockily grinning and basking in your oh-so-eager cries to let go, all over his face and fingers. When the roles are reversed, he tends to get frustrated, with you, with himself, with the whole damn situation, but god, does it make the orgasm so much better when it finally comes. He gives up full control to you, allowing you to take him however you wanted–your favorite ways to edge him are with your mouth, your soft, plump lips firmly wrapped around the tip of his dick while you play with his full and heavy balls, removing all touch every time he gets too close; or when you’re on top, making good use of your gym-built Megan Knees with some speedy but rhythmic bouncing on his dick, taking in the sounds of both your gushing pussy and Fontaine’s breathy whines from underneath you.

l: location (favorite places to do the do)

Besides either of your homes, his favorite place to fuck you is his car. He loves the riskiness of it all, the possibility of getting caught in the back of his old-school Pontiac with his face buried deep in your pussy. In broad daylight. When he’s driving you around town, his hand is always on your thigh, and if you happen to be wearing one of those short skirts that you like to prance around in…there’s no keeping his deft fingers from traveling in between your thighs. And when he brings those same fingers, now glistening with your sticky release, straight to his mouth with his eyes focused on yours…the look on your face is what tells him that he needs to pull over immediately. In the backseat, no position is off limits, he makes the space work for the both of you. If no one is kneeling between the other’s legs, then you’re using your flexibility to get into cowgirl–regular and reverse–or doggy style with your ass tooted all the way up and your face in the seats, or even the infamous spider position (that one is guaranteed to bring some giggles out of you). 

m: motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

What gets him going is your voice. That’s all he needs, really. That and your face. When you send him selfies and little audio messages to update him on your day, he can’t help but to smile, immediately feeling the burden of his work falling off of his shoulders. If alone, he’d shuffle in his sweats, adjusting his length, which was hardening at the thought of just being there with you. Don’t even get him started on the racy lewds you’d send him with invisible ink…immediately excusing himself to the restroom to take care of it. In person, he’s the same way– constantly staring at your face as you speak, holding strong eye contact and observing all your features and mannerisms. At first, you thought it was him trying to intimidate you or make you shy, but you realized that it’s just what gets him all revved up, you get him all amped up, simply by existing as you are.

n: no (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Fontaine wouldn’t do anything that could genuinely harm you or possibly send you to the hospital. He’s typically more resistant to trying new things but anything you would want to try, as long as it’s safe for the both of you, he would.

o: oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Oh he loveeees to give, being able to look up at you as he makes you shake and quiver with just his lips and tongue is what gets him going throughout the day. The first time he ate you out, you watched with wide eyes as he ravenously slurped and sucked on your lower lips and swollen clit, with fingers simultaneously manipulating all your inner spots. You came in under a minute and once the vision was restored in your eyes, you realized you’d never let that man go. When it comes to him receiving, he pretends not to love the intense teasing you enjoy giving him, but deep down it's his favorite part. The power and confidence that spreads across your face as you watch him gasping and shuddering under your tongue and fingers is something he loves to witness. Another thing that gives him life is when you get bold enough to take him all the way down your throat, holding it there and letting the gagging sounds fill the room. When he gets you to look up at him with a mouthful of dick and a chin dripping a sinful mix of spit and precum, your eyes all low and watery…he knows that you're his and he’s yours. 

p: pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

This also depends on the mood. The fast and rough Fontaine is typically reserved for moments in which he needs to release lots of stress or frustration, or he knows that you need to after a long day. He does a great job of roughing you up when he’s like this, gripping and grabbing onto any part of you just to keep you close to him, your ass, your tits, your hair…there was even that one time he pulled you closer with a hand on your pussy. This Fontaine is a bit of a sadist, he revels in the sounds of you begging and whining, finding great pleasure in the way your entire body would shudder when he spanked your bare ass. You beg him to go faster, harder, deeper, with a hand around your throat, or two. He always obliges, never stopping until the both of you are emptied and nearly passed out. Slow and sensual Fontaine is the one that shows up when he just needs you and your love. These are his more intimate times, both his hands finding solace someplace on your body while his eyes are firmly locked in on your own brown orbs. He loves to watch your face while he strokes deep inside you, his hips moving in slow, intricate waves as they search to locate every pleasure spot within your sugar walls.

q: quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Fontaine isn’t really one for quickies, unless it’s one of your midday car adventures. Any other time, if you both were that needy to get nasty, you’d just cancel on whatever you were going to do, and if you were already out, then you’d simply go home. He just loves to take his time with you so rushing through a quickie isn’t something he particularly enjoys. If anything, he would let the sexual frustration between you build up until you’re back home, so everything hits 10x better with that extra tension that needs to be released. 

r: risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Fontaine is game to experiment with you most of the time, even if he is a bit hesitant. After all, you were the one that introduced him to bondage, gentle femdom, anal…and possibly even pegging (if ur into that🫣). All of which he’s enjoyed. The biggest risk he ever took with you was indulging your slight gun kink. You’d been interested in gunplay long before you met him but you never wanted to buy your own gun, nor did you date anyone with guns. When you saw his piece the first time, the dark, cold metal tucked carefully into his waistband, he could already see the raw curiosity behind your eyes. He had to teach you gun safety of course, during which he was the most serious you’d ever seen him. You set up boundaries with each other, like you always do when introducing something new in your bedroom, and once he felt that both of you were ready, he was happy to oblige you. (There is a continuation of this on Ao3).

s: stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Fontaine has great stamina, compared to most that you’ve slept with. On average, he can hold his own nut off to make you cum at least two or three or maybe even four times before he does, then once he cums, he can go 1 more time almost immediately after, especially if you’re still up and ready for more. Usually, the sex lasts for at least a couple hours, given both his and your love for foreplay. There was one night that you both had been so pent up, you managed to fuck until the sun literally came up, with small breaks in between each round of course. Still, it was the longest you'd ever had sex, and you both spent the whole day sleeping off your soreness.

t: toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Fontaine doesn’t own any toys of his own, he’s considered getting a cock ring for foreplay, but hasn’t made the purchase yet. However, he does love to use your toys on you whenever you’re at your place. The rose and dick combo for when he wants you crying and twitching, the dildo for when his own dick is recovering but you still wanna cum, your cute pink buttplug that he’ll make you wear while he trains your throat…He is not a man who’s afraid of using toys on his partner, at all. Hell, he’s even let you use your wand on his dick and balls, granted…he was tied to the bed and couldn’t do much about it, but the nut that came from it was something out of this world. 

u: unfair (how much they like to tease)

Oh, he’s a huge tease. Back to you guys exchanging nudes, he’s grown to love sending his own pics and vids of himself, stroking and cumming and groaning your name, especially when you’re away and busy with work or school. And if you’ve been particularly unfair with him lately, you can almost guarantee that he’ll send you something with either the end of the video cut off, or the audio off, just to get you ramped up. One time, you were on a trip with your girls, away for only three days, which was apparently too much for Fontaine. In the middle of the second night, he wanted you to call for a nice little facetime session, but you were out in a bar with your friends, unaware of the multitude of messages and calls hitting your phone. 

When you’d arrived back at the hotel, you opened up the messages and noticed one of the last ones was a video, about 5 minutes long, followed by a goodnight text. Once your friends were asleep, you snuck away to the bathroom to watch the video. He was in his car, phone held in front of him while his other hand stroked his dick. You bit your lip watching, slipping your own hand into your pajama shorts to match his own movements with gentle circles around your clit. Your eyes shifted from his dick to his slightly exposed tummy and happy trail to his plump lips at the top of the screen. He spoke so many dirty things while he jerked off for you, seemingly rambling on about what he wanted to do to you, with you, in and on you…and what he wanted you to do to him. How good you make him feel, how much he misses you, how he hopes you’re not having too much fun without him. 

By the 4 minute mark, both of you were already close, trembling and desperate for a release, but you held off yours so you cum at the same time as he did on the video. The end was nearing and you didn’t know how long you could hold it off for, but the pitch of his voice was elevating so you knew he was close. You cursed as the time reached 4:35, only ten seconds left and he still hasn’t cum. He moaned out a few curses himself before a breathy I love you escaped his lips, the three words immediately causing your body to jerk. You kept your eyes glued to the screen as your fingers continued circling quickly, wanting to see him spill all over his fingers so you could cum too. You heard that familiar gasp he always does before he cums, but just as soon as that final excitement rose, it crashed, the video ending and your orgasm fading away too quickly for you to catch up. 

v: volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Fontaine is not much of a loud lover until you’re in control. He’s nowhere near quiet, but any other time, he’s more focused on making you scream, his own moans getting lost in your sounds. When he’s under your reign and domination, he’s damn near transformed into an opera singer. He’s loudest when you’re edging him, and especially once you let him cum after so many missed orgasms. Deep, feral groans turn into whiny moans, which turn into cries and breathy pleading for you to give him relief. You love it when he sings for you, and he knows it. That’s why he never holds back, regardless of whichever roles you two are playing. 

w: wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Using this to expand on his breeding kink from earlier. As stated before, one of Fontaine’s top kinks is breeding. He loves cumming inside of you, and even though you use birth control, he can’t help but imagine you pregnant and full of his child each time. He loves to watch his nut drip out of you, just for the visual proof that you’re all his, but something he loves more is to fuck it all back inside of you, with his fingers or his dick, it doesn’t matter. When he’s in it, he can’t help but taunt you with all the dirty thoughts floating around in his head. Whispering in your ear about whether or not your silly little pill is strong enough to beat all the cum he’s leaving deep inside you, asking you about baby names, where you should look for a new house, and how much you want to go shopping for maternity clothes…By the end, there’s nothing on your mind but the fact that you would look so pretty with a full, round belly to show everyone around town that you belong to him, and him only. 

x: x-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

We already know Taine is thick…thick thighs, a lil belly and some strong ass arms. He’s also fairly hairy, which isn’t a surprise considering his full beard and mustache. I’d also like to imagine him as being at least 6ft, so big and tall and strong enough to pick you up and throw you across the room. His dick…is thick but not so much that it hurts to get your lips around it, and it’s about 7, 7.5 inches fully hard, so not too big and not too small. It’s mostly evenly toned, dark brown with a slightly darker head. (Honestly, I’m gonna stop here because I’m feeling very depraved writing these details LMAO just imagine his dick how you want it).

y: yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Fontaine’s sex drive wasn’t crazy high till he met you, then he quickly learned to match your energy. When he’s busy with work, he has to literally avoid his phone so he doesn’t think too much about you, because you’re a distraction, sexually and non-sexually. Especially if you’re sending him your little pics and voice notes throughout the day, once he catches a glimpse of your face or hears your voice, there’s almost no stopping him from daydreaming about the two of you the night before, dick growing uncomfortably hard in his jeans, causing him to excuse himself from everyone. 

z: zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He doesn’t fall asleep that quickly afterwards especially if he was the one doing the domming, mostly because he tries to make sure you’re all comfortable and taken care of before he even lays down. Now, if you were the one wearing him out, you just let him lie down and relax while you clean up. Either way, once you’re both clean and refreshed, cuddling and relaxing with a fan and music playing, you’re falling asleep nearly at the same time.

A/N: Sooooo, it's finally finished, sorry to you all who had been waiting on this for so long!!! Last semester was tough and ripped away all my motivation to write fr but I'm backkkk and I hope y'all enjoy reading this, lmk what you think in the comments and please like and reblog as well! 🫶🏾

i do not give permission for anyone to copy, translate, or repost any of my works. 18+ ONLY -- i am not responsible for the content you consume.

[slippinninque]

🫣🍑Private Dancer🍑🫣

Or: You discover another half to the secret you thought you were keeping

Fontaine x blackfemreader

Warnings: MINORS DNI, cursing, use of the n-word, mentions of smoking/weed, P-in-V, mentions of insecurity, long fic

Truth was, you were a secret shaker.

A tentative twerker. An apprehensive ass-thrower. Your waist whined when being perceived directly and not in a good way. Not only did you decline to throw ass in public, you will also turn away any offers to catch it.

When you were alone, though...

You learned chorography to your favorite sounds, bounced around your living room as you folded clothes. Recorded dance challenges and deleted them a few hours later. You were your very own Stallion behind closed doors.

It took only a handful of awkward encounters and an asshole ex-boyfriend suggesting you 'stand to the side' for you to be determined to find your rhythm.

Looking up tips online and went to any beginner's classes you could find in the area. Ballroom, salsa, the pole--it all helped you understand your body outside of what it looked like. It was about what you trained it to do, what you wanted it to do.

Investing in a really good floor length mirror was the last puzzle piece you needed to really find your beat. From there on, you and the mirror were lovers.

Only your small circle of friends knew. That was thanks to enough years of trust and tequila, leading to wild nights at house parties with the radio cranked high.

You eventually learned that it was nothing to be ashamed of. It's not like it kept you away from fun or being included in the antics. If you went out with the ladies, you hyped them and kept a cute lil' two step. You held the title of Camerawoman with pride and your background cackles were famous in the group chat.

The booty wouldn't boogie with anyone else around and it's been that way for years.

It was your own little secret. No one had to know everything and you babbled enough as it was. If anyone cared to stare hard enough to a deserted, dark corner of the house--then maybe they could catch a glimpse.

The sway-snap of your hips, falling beautifully with every beat that you heard. How your hair gleamed, the way your smile swelled with the change of the songs.

Your entire body sang a song.

At least, that's what Fontaine thought when he first spotted you.

Of course you never knew he saw you. Even after the reciprocated confessions and hot-n-heavy honeymoon phase, you thought you went unseen.

Fontaine took your secret for his own, delighting in your shadow shows on the rare occasions you came out to play.

Fontaine could wait and if you had to feel alone to feel secure, then so be it. He used his admiration and desire to touch you, to be a proper witness.

Just being near you was more then enough, it would have been ungrateful to be so greedy.

------

You screamed when you saw him standing there.

The earbuds went off into the wilds of the kitchen, one skittering beneath the fridge.

Fontaine's eyes were popped wide but didn't seem remorseful for scaring your soul to the heavens.

"I thought you heard me when I came in." Fontaine hung up his keys before going in search of your earbuds. You watched after him, mortified.

You were just really into organizing the lower pantry. Lost in shaking your ass with one hand braced on the red potatoes and the other searching for the brown potatoes to put them back in their proper spot.

When you turned to grab the few 'taters that eacaped, you saw your man standing a few feet away from you with his arms crossed and head tilted.

How long has he been here?

Oh god, you have never danced for him. You have never danced in front of him--you weren't even serious. There wasn't a problem with you shimmying to the beat in his lap at a function or waving from your hips up while riding in the car to some jams.

This was different.

"Hey, hey--whatcha curling up for? C'mon now, I already know you can move."

"It-- that, um, I-I'm not that good, so, y'know..."

Fontaine pocketed your traumatized earbuds and kissed your hands until you inched them away enough for him to see your worried gaze. He tutted quietly, taking your hands into his and kissing your knuckles.

"What matters to me is what makes you feel good, baby." His voice rolled into a purr as he continued, "Lucky me that you look so fine when you do."

You wriggled as your shyness battled against the excitement of having Fontaine looking at you the way he was.

"So I don't look.... awkward? Do I have enough stuff to make it look good?"

"Wasn't nothing awkward 'bout how you were throwin' that, trust me."

Fontaine's hands went down and grabbed two handfuls of your ass. His palms were warm and wide as he kneaded, bringing you even closer to him as you went to your tiptoes. He hooked his chin over your shoulder with a happy little hum, distracted by you but only for only a moment more.

"Hold up, whatchu mean by 'enough stuff' ?"

You shrugged and decided not to answer. The truth of past insecurities felt redundant and you rather liked the way Fontaine was making you feel at the moment.

Fontaine grunted, giving you another squeeze before pulling back a bit to look into you square in the eyes.

"Look here-- I'm in love with all this right here, so I'm rockin' with you regardless of what you can make it do. Don't matter if you think you ain't got enough, shit, it's enough fo', me. Understand?"

His words worked out the few kinks in your heart, aches you grown used to and ignored when they flared. You nodded more confidently and only then did Fontaine lighten his hold on you, nodding back.

No telling how long Fontaine was standing there and if you never turned around-- you would have been none the wiser. How many times has he been there? Letting you have yourself, taking only a moment for himself as he had that smile on his face.

It was the same smile he had when he took away the shea butter to rub you down himself. Or similar to the smirk on his face when following after you to the bedroom after you talked a bit too much shit.

Your shoulders dropped as you fully relaxed into his hold. The burning embarrassment in your stomach churned into smooth, seamless and leaving you suddenly eager.

"So, tell me what a nigga gotta do to get a private dance from yo' pretty self?"

His hands helped themselves to another handful, this time spreading to touch between your legs. There was promise in his eyes and you knew you only needed to say yes.

You twist away from him enough to pluck your phone from the counter, sliding through a few songs before settling on something with drums and bass. The speakers pulsed and you began backing Fontaine out of the kitchen and into the living room.

He let you push him to sit in the recliner and he made an appreciative sound at the way you leaned in, pressing a kiss to his lips. It evolved, going deeper until you pulled away with a protesting noise from Fontaine.

"That's the only touching you gonna get from me right now."

"Oh, word?"

"You're going to distract me enough as it is." You said, stepping away from him and stretching your arms over your head.

"Bold as hell to call me a distraction." Fontaine's brows rose as he leaned back to make himself comfortable, "Lookin' at me with them eyes..."

His eyes hooked onto your hips. You stretched, teasingly bending over and holding onto your ankles as you gave a cute lil' shake, looking over your shoulder coyly .

"What can I use to look if it ain't my eyes?" You asked, "How am I supposed to see you?"

"Don't worry 'bout what you see back here, act like a nigga ain't even here."

"Oh, that's impossible now. You still make me feel so shy..."

Fontaine snorted and your gave a giddy smile in return.

What you wore was actually perfect. Tiny shorts and cami, perfect for when you were bounding around to clean house. Just what you needed for you to do a little Bend n' Snap for your man.

The music changed and you looked over at him in surprise, he held your phone but watched you with a mischief. Reaching for the little, polka dotted stash jar you left on the coffee table to pull out a blunt to wag at you.

"Go on, show me what you got fo' me."

Waiting until he fired up, you sauntered closer and tied up the front of your already teeny tank. Fontaine's eyes honed in to your nipples, distracted as he took a drag. When his fingers crooked, you leaned in enough and pursed your lips.

Fontaine blew a strong stream that you breathed in and held. You held as long as you could before releasing the smoke a final time into the air.

Fontaine's blunts were no-nonsense, where he still rolled with leaves rather than the papers you preferred. It felt like a straight shot to the head, the smoke lifting all the chatter in your mind to leave you swirling in electric eagerness.

Without further ado, you showed him what you could do.

Your hands braced on your knees, clasped above your head, went down to touch your toes. You rolled your stomach and snapped your hips mouthing the words to Fontaine as you fully felt yourself. You extended your arms and tried to be as dramatically sexy as possible. Touching all of Fontaine's favorite places yourself, pushing up your breast and skimming your hand between your legs for him to see.

Fontaine was a chaotic DJ as he flipped through your playlist. He went from instrumentals filled with nothing but baselines and adlibs, to Glorilla to Megan Thee Stallion to Trina. Whistling at every peek of cheek and nip, calling out to see the 'pretty lady' when you coyly fanned your legs at him from the floor.

When you got down on your hands and knees, you felt a smack against your cheeks hard enough to snap your illusion. You leaned onto your forearms, ass up in the air, and broke into laughter as more bills rained down. It was like a confetti canon was let off or someone hit the Golden Button for you.

"That felt personal." You said over your shoulder at where Fontaine sent another fan of bills into the air, "You tryin' to tell me something?"

"Yeah--to bring that ass over here so I can get my hands on you," Fontaine patted his thigh, "Thought this was gonna be a lap dance..."

"Private does not mean lap." You sniffed. Honestly, you weren't sure because you've never been to a strip club but with the way he was throwing bills--the living room was cosplaying as a VIP section at King of Diamonds.

You took your time in coming closer, wondering if you could skip on singles before Fontaine snatched you right up when you were close enough.

"This is too much! When did you even have time to take out all these damn dollars?"

"I been waiting on this, baby. Shit, I woulda threw gold if it ain't' hurt..."

You laughed and looked around at the singles carpeting your floor in disbelief, it's like you had a new rug installed! There were dollars all overt the coffee table and even some fluttered over to coat the entertainment center. Was there a dollar up in the light fixture? Was that a fire hazard?

Fontaine's teeth nipped at your earlobe, turning your next remark into soft moan. His hand ran up to cup your neck, breathing you in with a hungry hum.

His voice was all smoke and honey, "This is all well an' good, but I think I'm feeling a certain type of way..."

"Is it the horny way?"

Your cheekiness got you mean little pinch to your sensitive nipples. Jolting only pushed you closer to his greedy hands. It was his turn to touch. He plucked and twisted your nipples, making you mewl and melt into his touch. You ground down into his lap where you felt he needed you most, making him sigh into your ear.

"Gonna be the death of me, ain't ya?" Fontaine husked, "Here lies 'Taine, bust so hard he went on to glory. He leaves everything to his pretty-booty havin' lady."

"What if I promise to shake somethin' on your grave, would that be better--no biting!"

Fontaine growled something into the mouthful of shoulder he had, shaking his head gently and making you squeal and scrunch up to try and escape.

Still warm from being in the spotlight of Fontaine's attention and the pulsing music, your head swam with delight. It felt like victory. You turned and kissed at the side of his face before your lips met.

Allowing yourself to be admired and seen was like nothing else. Fontaine has always shown nothing but devotion to you but you still felt like he was...just being nice. You were holding yourself back from assumed disappointment but this whole time he's been waiting on you.

Talk about blocking your blessings...

When your grinding became more insistent, Fontaine leaned back with his lip caught between his teeth.

"That's what I'm talkin' about. Show me how you feel."

You looked over you shoulder, holding his hands against your breast as you rode in his lap. Fontaine hissed, one of his hands quickly escaped to clasp around your hips to grind up into you.

Leaning forward enough on your hands, your delicates went directly in his face as you tugged at his pant leg pointedly. Fontaine ignored your impatience and ran a hand over you, from between your shoulders down to the backs of your thighs.

You could hear him popping the button on his jeans and the rattle of his belt.

"How bad you want it, pretty?"

"Bad, real bad."

"'Do anything fo' it' bad?"

" 'Let you do anything to me' bad."

It happened fast after that, Fontaine righted you in his lap enough for him to press into your pussy. The stretch dropped your mouth open and Fontaine groaned at how wet you already were.

LOW started and you bounced to the beat, grinning dopily up at the ceiling at the feel of him hitting all your good spots. Your shorts provided a wonderful friction against your clit from how Fontaine shoved the fabric aside to let himself in.

It felt so naughty. To fuck on Fontaine like you were starved for him to the music rattling your walls. The thrill twisted with desire in your stomach, hurtling you faster and faster to your peek.

Suddenly more bills rained down and paired with Fontaine's laugh, more lust than amusement--it pushed you over the edge.

"That's it, I feel you, g'on and get yo' shit. Can't believe yo' pretty ass was shy..."

Fontaine took over. A bruising grip onto your hips, tipped you back into his chest as he thrust up into you in earnest.

"Puttin' that shit on me heavy, acting like you don't know what you do to me." Fontaine found a few singles that were being crumpled between you and pressed them to your dewy, lower back.

"Shieet, looks better than money. Wish you can see as much as yo' ass feel it, fuck." He gave your ass slap, you called out as you came. It felt like fire shot through you, leaving you reaching for any bit of him to clutch.

Between the music still going and Fontaine handling you so well, the sensations left you gasping. Legs burning and head filled with needy thoughts, you protested when Fontaine stopped your bouncing and maneuvered you until he slid free.

"Oh, show ain't over yet--you feel me?"

You did. Fontaine was heavy and hot where he tapped all over your ass, leaving kisses of wet spots. It filled you with a flash of pride or maybe even possessiveness. Craining your neck, you did you best to get a glimpse but Fontaine hand cupped your neck licked the shell of your ear.

"Yeah, that's you gettin' all over me. Tryna make me messy just how you like it, huh?"

He hissed when you writhed in his lap, ghost riding his dick until he gave you a little push to stand. Your mouth dropped open to whine but Fontaine turned you towards the middle of the room.

"Show me how you want it."

Fontaine held himself tight at the base, his lips lax enough for his gold to wink in the lamp light.

As gracefully as you could--you went down onto your knees before lying back to put your legs in the air. You rolled over in the blanket of dollars, wriggling down your shorts to one ankle until you could flick them away.

Fontaine grinned down at you, kneeling to slot his palm into the arch of your foot, his other hand stroking himself.

He hooked one of your legs over his shoulder, eyes fixed to where his dick bumped against your mound.

"Prettiest thing touchin' soil and you think it ain't enough..."

Fontaine moved your other thigh to the side around his hip, leaving you spread completely. You were still working, still giving him a show, but you couldn't bear to keep your hands off of him.

When you hand ran under his shirt, Fontaine tugged it over his head swiftly and much to your delight. The sight of his broad chest and delicious skin made you all the more impatient.

"Hurry up, Mr. Lapdance--the show ends when the music does."

Fontaine's eyes flashed.

"You lucky we ain't meet like that. D'you wanna know what I would do if you showed out like that on a pole?

The image formed in your mind was electric. Pretending to be a little Stallion and running into a hungry handed, greedy eyed Fontaine in low strobe lights.

Not knowing just what he had in store for you as you led him to the privacy booths--intent on earning his attention.

When you licked your lips, Fontaine groaned softly, you smiled at him.

What's another little secret?

"I did take a few classes, if you ever wanna see ahn--!"

Pressing into your heat, Fontaine grumbled something about Home Depot.

"Shouldn't have told me that, now I gotta put a stage in here somewhere in this bitch..."

Drunk on pleasure, you could only cry out as Fontaine chased his thoughts out loud. The change in position, with him looming above you muttering filthy promises--it was too much for you.

"O-Oh fuck, 'Taine!"

He froze to watch your eyes roll close as you shook apart beneath him with a sob. Fontaine lowered himself to bracket you between his forearms to kiss you, swallowing your moans. His hips snapped, lost rhythm and then he was coming with satisfied growl.

That was it. You were dead. Your very soul leaked onto his thighs and the carpet below.

'Here lies me, twerked too close to the sun...'

Fontaine releases a heavy, satisfied hum into your ear as he finally collapsed onto you. It should have been stifling and your knew your legs would be useless for the next while, but all you could do was grin at the feel of the dollar bill stuck to his shoulder.

What a way to go....

------

When the playlist finally ended, the silence found you both covered in sweat and dollar bills. Fontaine rubbed a loc of your hair between his fingers and you rested your eyes--head on his shoulder. Your hand wandering aimlessly across his chest as you began to doze.

He tugged gently to get your attention, "Want you to do me a favor."

"Mn. If it involves moving, you gotta pay me."

Fontaine snorted and flicked away the bill stuck to the thigh you've strewn across him. You shrugged a shoulder with a lifted brow, you got me there.

He continued, "If you can help it...I'd like for you not to hide from me anymore."

The change in his tone had you searching for his gaze and of course it was already on you. Fontaine took your hand in his, turning yours until he held it in his open palm.

"I...okay. I can do that for you."

You weren't ready to talk about the past and trying to make sense of your complicated feelings of being perceived. Something told you that it wasn't the time, maybe it was you hiding again, but at least Fontaine took your words earnestly.

He kissed your hand once, twice before leaning his head back and closing his eyes as he went back to playing with your locs.

"Good..and no more watchin' Baddies. Watching them girls fucks wit' your disposition," Fontaine reached for a handful of bills to sprinkle all over you, "You wanna be a Stallion? Lemme know and I'll give you a ride."

"Oouf you are terrible." You hid your face into his neck, "But once my legs come back online, you're in trouble."

Fontaine patted your ass, "Can't threaten me with good troubles, baby."

-----------

ending notes: thank you so much for reading! It's a long one but the idea wouldn't leave me alone! Might need some tweaking and editing since it's another Before Work Drop lmao! Please tell me what you think and what other things I should try, don't be shy! Comment and reblog please! 💕🥰💜

Taglist: @megamindsecretlair @sageispunk @miyuhpapayuh @cardierreh15 @mcondance @thadelightfulone@mag1calenchantr3ss@cocoeffects@wide-nose-and-wonderful @8ttached@thadelightfulone@hobiesmain@thickeeparker@longpause-awkwardsmile@ms-angiealsina

(Added a more after some slight revisions 🫣)

[sparkygurly227]

Chapters: 1/2 Fandom: Cloak & Dagger (TV 2018) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Tandy Bowen/Tyrone Johnson Characters: Tandy Bowen, Tyrone Johnson (Marvel) Additional Tags: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Tandy has trauma from the Viking Motel, 100 ways to say i love you Series: Part 39 of SparkyGurl's Multifandom 100 ways to say I Love You Summary:

Multifandom 100 ways to say I love you

#39 - Tyrone x Tandy - Don't Cry

[mcondance]

nite and day. fontaine.

for 👹, as they return to school tomorrow.

the back roads of the glen are quiet this time of night. nobody passes back here but the dope boys and the hos, and even then, ‘taine’s picked a spot for the two of you where you won’t be bothered.

snack wrappers sit on the middle console, hot chips and a half-empty bottle of strawberry lemonade, taine’s malt liquor and a half-smoked joint.

his ever-present music fills the car, soft vibrations have your body rattling softly from your place in his passenger’s seat. a passenger princess is what you are, always riding, never driving, spending his dime like it’s yours– and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

hazy-eyed and chest heavy with the weed swirling through your body, you cast your eyes over fontaine’s pretty ass face; the slope of his nose and curve of his lips are entrancing even in the low light. his dark eyes meet yours with a quickness like always.

“you starin’.” he says, smooth and deep, and yeah, you are.

“i am. that wrong?”

“nah.” he shakes his head, smoke curling out of his mouth. he smiles, laughs a little cause he still can’t believe he cuffed a girl like you, who’ll just stare at him for the fuck of it. passing you the joint, he watches you hit it, and you watch him watch with low eyes, leaned over the center console staring up at him like you don’t know exactly what you’re doing. your eyes, he thinks. your fuckin’ eyes.

he’s stuck, watching you inhale and exhale, keeping his eyes on you through the smoke you blow.

“you playin’ with me.” he’s got that thing in his voice, that airy, dazed, fucked thing that has you shifting in your seat and cracking a smile, shrugging your shoulders and tilting your head and not denying his accusation. he shifts too, places a hand on your face and brings you over to steal a kiss that you so easily give him.

one kiss is never just one with fontaine, though. deepens quickly, gets nasty and your heads are moving with it, fighting to hold your own as the other does the same. he grunts, moves as close as he can and licks over your lips, slipping his tongue in your mouth when you let him in. your hands tangle in his shirt, pulling him towards your kiss.

low smacks mix with the music pouring from his radio, little pleasured sounds and hungry groans take their place in the song like they belong there. and if you let fontaine tell it, they do.

“sound so damn pretty,” he mumbles against your lips and you smile against his, leaning back just a little to find his eyes again. he’s in the thick of it already, tipsy with infatuation and you’re getting to his head, like you always do. “what you wanna do?” he asks. he knows your answer already, leaning away from you so you can clamber over his console and settle in his lap while he’s still reaching down to move his seat back.

in his lap, his hands find your waist with ease, handle your body like second nature as you press your lips to his again, hands on either side of his face. you cup his face with the gentleness of a person in love, soft and caressing and he feels the sweetness leak off your hands and seep into his skin. 

the way you feel is anything but sweet, though. he’s hard against your heat and if you didn’t know any better you’d swear you were dripping through your shorts and panties. fontaine’s hands get bolder, sliding down your ass to grab at your pussy, grunting against your lips as he gets a handful of you. again he grabs, and you whine a little, moving up away from his hand at the sensitivity and unwelcome shyness that arises in you.

it doesn’t matter, though, cause you settle back down and he runs his hand down your slit through your clothes, still kissing and licking into each other’s mouths. sure of himself, his other hand takes the first one’s place, inside your clothes this time. 

“taine. .” you sigh, melting into his touch. 

“mhm.” he hums into your neck, kissing your skin once before he trains his eyes down between your legs. 

your body knows his touch. moves against his fingers naturally, sliding your slickness over his hand as he teases your nerves, savoring the feel of you against him. your hands are over his shoulders now, a little leverage to grind your hips on him, breath heavy and desperate with the soft pleasure arising in you.

fontaine knows your tells better than you do. “you want it?” he asks, cause he can tell with the urgency in your motions that all that long ass foreplay shit is for the birds tonight.

you just nod dumbly, leaning back so he can free his dick and you stare with hungry eyes at him, body tingling with the recollection of how he feels shoved up in your guts.

shorts and panties to the side is how he does it, using your drip as lube with one, two, three swipes up and down your cunt. you shiver, eyes joining his on between your legs to find his hand wrapped around his dick.

still high off weed and each other, you connect, softly, and its good.

ready, wet and always ready, he opens you up and he groans at the feel of you enveloping him, at how you clench and kiss his dick with your walls. your sounds seem to complement each other, a whine leaks from your mouth as he sinks in farther, splitting you open like it’s his purpose. mouth slack, you huff out breaths, eyes fluttering as he catches against little electric spots all inside you. 

there’s no static spot, no time in which you two don’t know what’s next. to the backdrop of smoke and fontaine’s smooth music, you fuck in fontaine’s driver’s seat. it’s smooth, the way you rise up and he pulls down and you meet in the middle, and then you’re in the thick of it and the pace is so sweet your mind blanks with it.

the car rocks, the shuffle of clothes and bodies and unabashed moans hit the air and spin and float like flowers through the wind.

hand braced on his chest, you rest your forehead against his, eyes taking in his eyes and his nose and his lips that are opening to feed you the words that you so readily eat up. low and deep, he speaks, his mind crafting the most depraved shit to say.

“you love this shit, don’t you? got me on you and you ain’ even have to try.” he’s lovestruck, would give you the world if you even looked at him like you wanted it. you nod, retching out a moan, dropping down on him harder and rougher. he feels that shit, smiles and places a kiss on your neck before his hands handle your waist again. he has your bounces turning to grinds, and he follows you, hands on your waist to move with you.

like this, it’s good. good like midnight drives and being close with your lover, good like spending his money and getting kissed like even god couldn’t separate you two.

the shit’s perfect, and you feel it, in your rocks against him, in how you move against each other so right. 

smooth is how you fuck each other, rolling your hips against him, letting the atmosphere of it all bring you close to cumming. there’s no rush, no race or urgency to hit your peak, just slow grinds and soft words and fontaine’s hands around your waist, comforting and mind-fucking all at once. inside you, his dick kisses every part of you.

in the driver’s seat of fontaine’s pontiac, you feel as good as you think you could ever feel.

[aberration13]

They cloned Tyrone is pretty good, saw a post here somewhere recommending it and I would also recommend.

Kinda like if you mixed the x files with sorry to bother you.