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soft-persephone · 1 month ago

Note

I saw your fic between Alex Cross x reader x John Sampson and I was wondering if you could write the three of them more. Your writing is fantastic.

Thank you so much! My heart is quite literally melting. I am nothing but a pudlle. please, its too much! 🥺🫣😳

Anon I stressed over what I could possibly write that could somehow follow up part one, and then I felt guilty because it took me so long to figure it out and I didn’t want you to think I was avoiding/ignoring you, but it all hit me today.

So enjoy this fic I wrote in between my downtime at work. I hope you like it just as much as part 1!!!

Some Things Never Change 2

MDNI //WC: 5k// Explicit descriptions of sex, oral both m and f receiving, threesome, Alex and John talk you through it, sick and twisted childhood games, but in a good way, // masterlist //

You startled.

Two loud raps from your door echoed through the quaint house.

It’s previous owners, your grandparents, long gone but not forgotten was left to your father, and he planned on selling it, but at the tender age you were, begged him to keep it and give it to you, and as a father who never failed to give you your heart's desire, relented.

You still had an apartment in the city, but you didn’t want to be found at the moment. Drooling into the parlor couch cushions and curbing off a hangover as you drifted in and out of sleep was the evidence

So the fact that someone was knocking at your door and stirring you out of your sleep had you less than enthused to get up.

Wiping your face, you count to three under your breath and swing your body upwards into a sitting position.

You sighed and stood, not stressing to let whoever at the door know you were coming.

Because who told them to come in the first place?

You opened the door and blinked. “Alex?”

“Hey.” He drawled in a way you always loved, dropping his fist that was daring to make a second attempt to alert his presence. “Thought you might want some breakfast.”

He held a plate wrapped in foil in his hand.

You stared at it before slowly moving a hand towards it.

“Uhm. . .” His fingers brush along yours as he hands it over. He dips his head in an attempt to catch your gaze, but you avoid it.

Not to avoid him, but because your brain starts to catch up with you, leaving you to begin to wonder what you look like right now as you place the plate on the entryway table. What day is it? Do you smell like alcohol? Or. . . worse.

You should apologize.

But as you turn your head to look at him, you’re floored.

Those deep brown eyes that tower over you, gloss over with an emotion so strong it fills the air and becomes tangible, an emotion you understand, an emotion that pangs you with tinges of guilt as you feel it and let it fill you.

He steps forward and you step back. He shuts the door behind him with a swing of his foot. A hint of a smile graces his face as he wordlessly acknowledges the old creaking scream it had when you both were younger is gone.

“It’s cold,” he says in a low voice,” igniting the emotion in the air, letting it stick to your skin like the snow that clings on his brow, sticks to his boots, and flitters off his coat, “and you don’t have on no clothes.”

You smile and laugh softly at that, hating the way it sounds, for existing.

It should have killed the tension, but he reaches out. His large hands slide along your waist, trailing under the fabric of the t-shirt, reaching under the fabric to the bit of skin above the hemline of your panties. You can’t tell if he’s falling into you or pulling you closer, but your brain moves on autopilot. Despite your bare legs and semi indecent state, it commands you to pull at the collar of his coat and slide it off his shoulders. Your toes curling up on their tiny tips to kiss him on the cheek.

A courtesy, even hungover, you never fail to do, but in your focus to fight the tension in the air, you miss the look on his face and the glint in his eye as he tilts his head and envelope your mouth with his, demanding you to feel it to let it take over you, and immodestly, you surrender.

You never could say no to Alex.

He takes over. Sliding out of his coat and forcefully putting it on the rack. The slide of his tongue stops its pleading languid exploration of your mouth and becomes more urgent. The breaks between each surge of his lips becomes shorter and less frequent. Your lungs burn desperately, but you bear the pain and pursue your desire, your soul burning for more of him.

He grabs you by your thighs and lifts you onto the entryway table, shoving everything on it to the side, and finally letting you breathe. His mouth trails kisses down your jaw and with your first breath you moan.

In one desperate kiss at your collar, his teeth brush along your skin, tingling your senses. His path to your chest is stopped by your shirt. With parted lips and furrowed brow he grabs at the hem of your shirt, beginning to fling it off of you when the door swings open, the frost of the chilly air bites at your toes, desperate to cool down the the desire and longing of you and Alex’s creation, but it ultimately fails.

But it’s no match for what follows it inside as he swings the door shut.

“Lil Bit.” John’s voice rings low in the air. It rumbles like the soft rolling thunder before the rain patters down, deceiving what is expected from his size, not crashing and booming in the way people expect, when he loses his temper. “What have I told you about not locking this door?” He scolds.

“It’s not that type of time John.” Alex lowly replies.

But you don’t care about that or why, more upset with the step he takes back and the way he helps you down off the table.

You keep your eyes on John. He smirks, wrapping his hand around your face. The leather creaks as his fingers dig into your cheeks and his palm presses against your chin.

The emotion in the air dissipates, becoming something appropriate between a group of friends, losing its spark.

John gives Alex a look and he nods.

John remains still before finally nodding back in affirmation.

You thin your lips, ignoring his gaze as it quickly flickers to you.

Yes, you knew what he was silently asking and telling Alex, but you refused to acknowledge it, too raw from your conversation earlier today. Still reeling, you weren’t in a place to keep apologizing for your feelings.

Whatever happens should happen.

But John knew the truth even if he didn’t know how you were feeling even if you wouldn't say it, refused to even.

He knew how reckless you could be on a spiral.

“We gonna keep this out here or are we gonna take it up to the bedroom.”

Licking your lips, you finally acknowledge him.

“Okay.” You mutter softly, making your way upstairs. You don’t have to check if they’re following you or not.

The sounds of shuffling boots thud at the front door. As you make your ascent you can hear the rustling of their clothes coming off their bodies as they discard them, not caring where they land. A problem to worry about later.

As you finally sit on the bed littered with old memories in a updated room filled with just as many new ones, Alex silently shifts behind you, beating you to it and sliding your shirt off for you.

He wanted to do it.

He always did like unwrapping presents. He practically liked it more than the present itself. The slow reveal, the process, the time and care someone puts into it. The mini bite size mystery of it all.

John wastes no time. With large warm hands he firmly turns you over, pressing the small of your back into the bed, he spreads your legs open. As he removes your panties you wince into the sheets as his breath dances along your clit. He envelopes your pussy with his mouth. The warm contrast of it, the heated swipe of his tongue as he delves into you, and the way he yanks the flimsy fabric off of you makes you cry out with a whimper.

Your hips grind along his face, Chasing the heat of his mouth and the scratch of his beard on your sensitive skin, and he lets you. Following after your rhythm with two of his fingers as he eats you out. The soft wet sounds feel even louder and more encompassing in Alex’s silence.

You move to smother the sounds into the sheets but Alex stops you, cupping your cheek with the palm of his hand.

You turn your head up and bat your lashes, wanting to see him, fearing a judgment to match his silence, but you're stilled by the warmness. The complete awe and desire that fill his gaze.

He slides his thumb along your bottom lips before dipping it into your mouth. You attempt to wrap your lips around it, eager to please, but with a gentle firm grip, he pushes his thumb against your tongue. “Look at you.” He says low, his voice thick with desire.

He mindlessly parts his lips in the same slow movement as his thumb parts yours, leaving you at his mercy.

A grin slowly morphs his features as his eyes dart from your mouth to lock with yours.

John adds another finger and you close them, letting out a choked sound at the stretch, a sudden gush of your arousal follows, flooding his fingers, making it just as easy as before to fuck yourself on his hand. The grinding of your hips stutters, slowing down, but you don’t stop. You can’t. Smoothly, desperately, you glide your hips up and down his fingers.

John’s free hand clasps tightly on your thigh, the small bed of his nails digging into the plump skin and he stops the grinding of your hips, the pursuit of your high. Slowly, he plants one long kiss on your pussy, pushing his tongue deep into you, his beard doing more than creating a friction as he did. Your hips reflexively try to move away, but with his firm grip on you, you can’t.

“John.” You cry out.

“You like how he does that, huh?” Alex starts.

The bed dips as he makes his descent towards you, his hand sliding down your neck from your cheek. He presses against your sternum, slowly turning you onto your side, so that you can lay against the pillows near the head of the bed.

John follows the movement of you. With a strong grip on your thigh, he keeps your legs spread as you move to the side. In a single wet slurp his mouth was off you, the air of the room makes you wince as he and Alex move you in unison, but he hasn’t moved far. The steady pants of his breath between your legs had your pussy throbbing, caving in on itself, confused on whether it needed a break or something inside.

“You want him to do it again?” Alex tilts his head at John not waiting for you to respond, and he starts his slow torture to pull you apart once more. He pushes one finger into you and wraps his mouth around your clit for the second time.

You keen as Alex closes the distance between him and your body. His lips trailing from your collar on downwards.

The fire at your core ignites once more, this time more burning than the last. Your hips start their chase, even more desperate this time for release, but as John curls his finger inside of you while eating you out, you whine, speeding up, practically bouncing on his face, his fingers, but with a wontonous grace he lifts your leg higher and presses his face more firmly against you, giving you more than what you can ask for, and stopping your movements.

Alex’s lips grace your collar with a searing embrace, his lips hot, he murmurs into your skin, “you move your hips on his face like you're used to it.”

Each kiss became more urgent, sloppier as his teeth nicked at your skin with each one heading towards your chest. With gentle cruelty he wraps his mouth around one of your breast, sucking hard until your nipple pebbles in his mouth. Your back arches, pushing your hips further into John who matches the movement with a second finger.

“You’ve done this plenty of times.” Alex coaxes you, “you can take it.” He says as you whine, before moving to your other breast. “Give her another finger, John.”

And he did, stuffing you full and lapping you up with his tongue like a man starved.

Too much, it was all too much to be back where you started and twice as sensitive. Alex pressed his palm against your tummy, holding you firmly onto the bed, firmly keeping you in place and John dives deep into your pussy once more with his tongue sliding hotly against that one spot. The feeling of his beard you once chased suddenly unbearable, the scratch too harsh.

You whimper through your orgasm.

Alex cups your face once more to keep your head up and your mouth open, making your sounds fill the little room you shared so many times as kids.

“Just like that, Bitbit.” Alex coos in your ear from above. . “Let it out. Let it all out. Forget about Marcus. We got you now.”

You were never baby or baby girl. You were Lil Bit. . .. their little Bitbit.

Once done, John removes himself from you, finally letting your thigh go. You gratefully fall into the bed.

John stands to his full height, shoving off his briefs. Your eyes flutter, unable to take his gaze, unable to bear the sight of his thick heavy dick.

Has he always been the big? You don’t remember being so intimidated by his size before Marcus.

You look up for a reprieve, but Alex stairs down at you with crossed arms, his dick straining hard against his briefs, the sight leaving you to decide to close your eyes. Your limbs were weak, your body settled in its position, a wave of comfort and content washes over you. You could just—

“Uhn-uh,” Alex firmly pats at your cheek, jolting you awake, “you ain’t going to sleep now. You need to finish what you started.”

A lie.

You hadn’t started anything, but you were too weak to argue. You weakly grab his hand and settle it against your face to stop the slapping. You rub your thumb against the back of his hand to let him know you were awake.

“What you want John?” Alex speaks to him not tearing his eyes away from you.

“Think I wanna see her take you in her mouth like she used to.”

Alex hummed, his eyes almost rolling back at the thought.

“It has been a while since we’ve done something like this, hasn’t it?.” Alex’s tone was almost playful, calm and conversational. “How could I forget?”

John grunted softly, not not a chuckle. You were too weak and his voice was so low, the sounds so similar. He always liked to put extra bass in his voice. If you weren’t in the state you were in, you would have called him out on it.

“How ‘bout you, Sugar?”

Alex puts hand on his chin, tilting his head in thought before pointing at him.

“I think I want to see her grind on your dick like she was on your face.”

“Sound good to you Bitbit?” John graveled.

“Mm.” You slurred out a mumble of incoherent sounds. Trying to look at him, either of them.

“I know what she wants.” Alex spoke for you, moving his hand as he spoke.

“I think she wants you to kiss her.”

You hated how your body immediately responded, rushing with a surge of energy to influence a new budding of desire throughout your being. How your eyes fluttered open and focused on John with no difficulty. The burning of your core that told you how much you wanted it, and the dipping of your hips and arch in your back told him.

John titled his head, his face not revealing anything to you that said he would do it. Looking cool and laid back, like he wasn’t standing bare in front of his best friend with his second friend naked in the bed between them.

“I don’t know,” he looked at Alex, ignoring you, she’s not saying anything so it’s hard to tell.”

You held back a whimper. You hated this game and you wouldn’t give them the satisfaction.

“I gotchu,” Alex’s hand was suddenly on you. Brushing along your skin from your side to your breast. He thumbs at one of your nipples, making you squirm. “See how her back is still arched from when I asked, how she all of a sudden isn’t sleepy no more? How she won’t stop looking at you?” Alex started teasing your other nipple. Unable to hold it in any longer, you release a high keen, weakly whimpering under him.

“That’s how you can tell how bad she wants you to kiss her.”

John hums in mock affirmation, the bed dipping further as he settles over you.

“Is that true Lil Bit,” he teases, “all you gotta do is ask.”

“Oh she’s not gonna ask.” Alex’s grin is cruel. “Probably because, and I’ll admit– Lord, bless my soul, but I said some awfully hurtful things last night, and now I think she’s too scared to ask you for what she wants.”

“Ohh, Bitbit.” The rumble of John’s voice as he leans over you is sinful. Your pussy throbs at the sound. “You don’t need to be scared. I’m still the same John,” he placed a hand on the leg hat has the marks of his nails on it. He tenderly brushes his thumb along the soft bruised skin of your inner thigh, “I’ll give you what you want. All you have to do is ask.”

“Come on Bitbit.” Alex leans down to kiss your temple. “John knows you don’t love him. He knows you aren’t going to beg him for something real. I didn’t mean it.” Alex’s voice is soft and warm. He kisses you behind your ear and you understand.

I’m sorry.

You open your eyes, unsure when you closed them and look at John. His gaze is heavy, not just with desire. Understanding slowly graces his features and they fall into something serious not completely discernible to you, but he breaks the spell for you, not leaving it up for guess.

“I thought you wouldn’t want me anymore.” You blurt out in a soft voice. Unlike them you can’t let your actions speak for you when you're at your breaking point. You have to say it or the emotions will break you. “I thought you’d think that I want more and I’d never ask you for that, but sometimes I feel that way and I don’t want—but I can’t help it and—“

John closes the space between you, shutting you up with a kiss. His beard tickles along the skin of your cheeks and chin. His hand gripping your face, the way his mouth firmly envelopes yours, and the hot wet swipe of his tongue has a moan force its way through your body, shuddering beneath him, tasting yourself on his tongue, it makes you squirm, your pussy ache, but you can’t stop. Pressing your tongue against his for more, eagerly taking what he gives you and all that you can on your own.

He breaks the kiss, exhaling along your lips, but you can’t stand to be apart, to let it be over. You swipe your tongue along his bottom lip before taking his mouth in yours and you do it again and again and again— and he lets you.

Alex snakes his hand into the roots of your hair and pulls you back into his chest. Craning your neck in his grip, he kisses you from behind. You give him the same attention you give John, except you bite his bottom lip between your teeth. He attempts to push his tongue further in your mouth than John ever did, silently creating a competition to one up him.

And what a close competition it was.

You moan and he removes his grip from your hair.

“Face down. Ass up. Keep your mouth open.”

With weak legs you obey, unable to move as quickly as they do. John slaps your ass right before you could move it up, making you yelp.

“Don’t be mean.” Alex drawls, as he carefully gathers your hair and gently grasps it in a firm grip, so it’s out your face. He then takes his other hand to grab your jaw to keep your mouth open, “not when she’s been so good.” With one languid thrust, Alex pushes himself as far as he can.

John plunges into your pussy with little resistance, the sudden fullness makes you keen around Alex, the sound muffled around his dick.

John starts pounding into you in slow hard thrusts. The wet smack of his hips into yours has you losing focus on sucking off Alex who was only half way in your mouth, but he didn’t seem to mind.

“You better move those hips to match each one of those back shots before I stop being nice.” You squeeze around John at his words, and he lets out a groan.

“Fuck, Alex.” He pants. “Don’t talk to her like that, or you’re g-gonna ruin it.”

“Uh-uh, I said that’s what I wanted to see, and I wanna see it.”

Whining, you turn your attention towards moving your hips back to meet John’s, letting out a short whimper over Alex’s dick with each one. Who seemed to be enjoying it just as much as he pumped what couldn’t fit into your mouth with his hand.

“Ohh just like that Bitbit. You’re taking John so good.” He moaned.

You couldn’t do both. You couldn’t focus on hollowing your cheeks and take as much of him down your throat as you could and keep throwing it back. Your pussy starts to ache, having enough your hips do their best to lift off of him as quickly as they could and still keep a steady rhythm. John didn’t like that.

Thrusting harder, he grabbed your sides, pulling you back and helping you meet each one.

You moan around Alex, drool dripping down your cheek as he tries to thrust further into your mouth, but your throat squeezes too soon, pushing him out.

He swears under his breath.

“Help me out John. I think Lil Bit needs some encouragement.”

John roughly grabs your ass, letting his nails dig half moons into your skin. He massages his thumb along your other whole, gently kneading it around the rim. You keen, squeezing him further inside you.

He pushes his thumb inside you with a hiss.

At the sudden intrusion you open up, your pussy bottoming out, allowing John to somehow fuck even deeper into you, and with the drawn out moan you let our around Alex at the foreign feeling, it gives him enough room to plunge all the way past your lips for his tip to hit the base of your throat.

“There you go Bitbit. You just needed some help. You're taking us both so well now.”

Alex moans as he slowly fucks your throat, letting you get used to the feeling. He slides his hand from your jaw to your neck, feeling himself slide in and out as he shallowly fucks your throat.

“Tell her how good she’s being John. She needs to hear it from you too.”

“So good. Bitbit.” John slowed down as he spoke, letting you feel every inch of him as he slid in and out of you, going all the way out until you could only feel his tip and rolling his hips until you were full of all of him.

“So wet,” he grunted, “tight as always.”

His thrusts became quicker and so did Alex’s, rushes of his precum trickled down your throat.

They both moved rougher, faster, and all you could do was whine, whimper, and take it.

“Tell her to take it, John.” Alex pant, grabbing the back of your head with both hands.

“Don’t give out now,” John reprimanded in a low strong voice, your walls throbbed around him, “take it. . . .Take it just like that, Bitbit.” He continued, driving you crazy. “Don’t waste a single drop or you’ll have to make it up to us.”

He thrust harder into you, Alex was already spilling down your throat, you hollowed it out, desperate to keep it all down.

Alex cradled your head against him until he was done. The neatly trimmed hairs at his base tickled your nose. He wiped the stray tears from your cheek as he did. “You did so good. So good for us.”

“Does he state like you remember?” John huffed. He pulled you closer to him now that Alex was done.

Your whimpers filled the room as he repositioned his grip on your hips, his fingers digging.

“Don’t be like that Bitbit.” He pushed your head down into the sheets and shoved your hips up. “You were so good for Alex. I know you can be good for me too.”

The pace he set was brutal. His thrusts as he matched your hips were powerful enough to leave bruises. You mewled as he did, drool pooling into the sheets as held you down.

You gripped the sheets by your head. You’d be surprised if your knuckles weren’t split with the force. The slamming of his hips hard enough to rock you off the bed.

With a low groan he leaned over you. His chest pressing your back into the mattress as he came.

He moaned above you. The vibrations of it rattled against your skin. You squirm, hips canting foward subconsciously to escape the fullness, much too sensitive.

But John held you firmly down. His hips following yours, keeping his dick firmly inside of you.

His cum fills you up to an unimaginable degree.

Has there always been this much?

A dumb question. He wasn’t called Two-John for nothing. He had enough for two men at least, proving his namesake.

He steadily lifted himself from you. Not sure why you moved your head up, searching his lips. They brushed along his as he moved to kiss you on the temple. That’s what he was trying to do, you vaguely remember always wanting him to kiss you instead, but this time you took what you wanted.

He huffed a silent laugh into your face with a light smirk.

Humming, he grabbed your chin and held your face still so he could finish what he set out to do and kiss the side of your head.

Satisfied he let go and lifted off the bed.

Alex threw him a towel.

“I know you’re tired, but you need to move with me.” John tapped your thigh, making you yelp. Not that it hurt, but it was surprising.

You did your best, but you were practically useless, but he was a smart man, figuring it out and managing to clean you off with the warm towel.

He tossed it back to Alex who threw it into the bathroom across the hall and tossed John another one.

“You too.”

John smacked his teeth, but otherwise didn’t complain.

“One more time.” Alex softly coached you into a more comfortable positioning in the bed so he and John could lay next to you.

An odd sense of Deja vu, or would nostalgia be a more appropriate term, washed over you.

Many times you all had been tucked into bed just like this. Either by your Granny or Nana Mama, giggling throughout the night until someone threatened to get a switch or belt.

“So it’s over with Marcus.” John drew circles into your skin. His hand brushing warmly against your belly. The warmth of his hand stirred at the feeling of Alex cum still oddly warm within you. Your pussy faintly throbs at the thought.

You cleared your throat. “It was mutual.” Your voice was softly horse and weak, fucked out. “. . . If he showed up right now. I think I’d take him back. I think I regret it.”

Alex wraps his hand around your chin and pulls your face up into a kiss as he dips his head down to meet your lips.

When he broke it, he stared into your eyes, understanding.

John weakly trailed his hand to your neck, softly tapping at your chin, so soft you almost missed it, but you didn’t, you couldn’t. It was not possible.

Answering, you turned over, placing a hand on his chest as you reached up to caress your hand softly at his beard.

“Come here.” He relented, commanding you softly.

Obeying, you closed the distance, tasting yourself on his tongue once more.

He also understood. Breaking the kiss, he settled his forehead on yours. He holds nothing against you.

He didn’t say it, but you could tell. You could feel it. Emotion swells within you and tears threaten the corner of your eyes. Before you could settle back down into the bed, and hide them from John. Alex reaches for your face once more and pulls you back into him, kissing you with more fervor than he had done previously, not letting go until you made a soft wanting noise in his mouth.

Then John follows, making sure to take your breath away and your knees buckle, despite laying down.

Alex frowned, his face drawn into a pout, that any other time, you would have called adorable, but at the moment, a menace was the only description that came to mind.

John would kiss you, and then Alex would again, trying to one up him. Not liking to be upstaged and hating to back down from any challenge, John would kiss you again. And the cycle would repeat itself over and over and over again.

You hated this game too.

But this time, you didn’t have to fear being caught by Nana Mama or your Poppa, so you let them continue until they tired out— or you,for that matter, but it was hard to get tired when Alex would try to taste every corner of your mouth or how John’s beard scratched deliciously against your face. Because as much as you’d hate to admit it. You missed the attention, the high it gave you.

The undeniable longing for their touch and the yearning for their love and embrace free of guilt and shame was something you didn’t know you had missed as much as you did, so you would hold onto this moment for as long as you could.

Because who knows when you all would get another chance.

#alex cross #cross #amazon prime #alex cross x reader #john sampson x reader #aldis hodge x reader #isaiah mustafa x reader #aldis hodge #isaiah mustafa #x black reader #fanfiction #2024 #fanfic #black writer

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tvchi · 1 month ago

Text

The Rhythm of You

Disclaimers: DO NOT COPY OR REPOST MY WORK. DO NOT TRAIN AI WITH MY WORK.

Warnings: Mature Audiences ONLY: Minors DNI- Profanity, Use of the N word. Pairing: black male x black female Words: 5,419k

A/N: Hey yall hey. Happy Holidays and a Very Happy New Year to you all. I've been gone for a minute, and now I'm back with the jump off/goons in the club case--- my fault; let me get serious. During the holiday season, I took some intentional time off to be present with family and get some much needed rest. I've been enjoying so many other fanfics, liking and reblogging them for your viewing pleasure, so please check them out. When I got back, work just steamrolled me, and then I found myself reminiscing about the past with friends and fantasizing about this new fic. It just wouldn't leave me alone and I found myself disengaging from Terry's drama to look into an unexpected chapter in Aldis' life (lol). I will be writing part 4 of Veiled Intentions soon don't worry!

Summary: Aldis has been working really hard and had finally finished Season 1 of Cross. I had been a grueling 10 months filming this role and getting into character. Now, he can finally decompress and return to the one thing that means the world to him, his baby girl. Everything was all figured out until he met someone unexpected, someone alluring, someone who will add a much needed song to the soundtrack of his life.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------- Delicate golden embers arose from the stringed lights hung all over the ceiling. Their glow illuminated the bodies that swayed underneath. The sounds of the speakers blaring the Top 40 hits now transitioned to R&B. The calm electricity throughout the room brought a warm buzz to my chest. It was a sight to behold. Everyone I had grown close to over the past couple of years gathered under this two-story NY loft to celebrate the significant milestone. It made me smile.

I usually enjoy the wrap of all of my work. It gives me time to pause, decompress, reflect on the journey, make a little time to note what I could have done better, and dig deep inside myself to practice the celebration of all of the things I had done right. Taking on this role was a huge undertaking, but I got it right. Really right. I was already getting calls offering me other roles in other limited series. I even got offered a chance to make my directorial debut on a project that I’ve had my eye on for a while.

Knocking back another swig of my drink. I couldn’t help smiling at the thought of going home and hugging my daughter tight. It was a wrap ritual for me. Ever since she was born, I’ve been obsessed with the little extension of myself. The way she looked up at me, face pressed tightly against my chest, asking me all kinds of questions and clinging to every answer. I thought I knew love until I held her.

I downed the last of my drink and started saying my goodbyes. It wasn’t until I had hugged the last person that I heard the commotion coming from the dancefloor. They were playing some song featuring Kehlani, the only voice I recognized at the moment, and it was smooth. Curious, I let my feet guide me to the edge of the formed crowd. I stepped in closer, and that is when I saw …her.

Her skin was a toffee brown, and under the streams of warm light, she glowed. The second thing I noticed was how she seemed to glide around the enclosed circle she maneuvered around. It was almost as if her feet weren’t even hitting the floor. Where her feet went, her hips trailed behind, snaking around, causing her ass to tick and shake precisely as the percussion dropped. She was in perfect sync with the beat. There came a point where she switched her movements to emulate the rhythm of the words the artists’ crooned. She turned around to where I was standing, body still enthralled by the trance of the song, and started mouthing the words.

The way she moved her hands to trace the outline of her hills and valleys enticed something in my carnal nature. My eyes wouldn’t move from her. Her eyes fluttered open and closed, influenced by the song's sentiment. If she were the premise of the music video, this song would win so many awards. I continued watching her intently, and then she suddenly peered up at me, still mouthing the words of the song and moving those perfectly sculpted hips and thighs. She snaked to the right and folded over, allowing the right side of the room a full view of a plump, round ass and the rest of us a delectable side view. Her eyes never left me. It was almost like she was daring me to make my way over to her and dance with her. My feet remained planted where they were, and I just stared, wondering how she would look doing this routine in my bedroom— on my dick.

My thoughts were interrupted by my castmate and newfound brother, Isaiah, coming up to my right. “Incredible,” he said, practically moaning.

“Who is she?”

“I don’t even know. The little intel I was able to pick up from some of the cast mates who were familiar with her was that she’s a choreographer or dancer or something. She came as a plus on.”

The DJ continued to egg her on while transitioning to ‘Can I’ by Kehlani. She started another routine that didn’t seem routine at all. Isaiah and I kept our eyes glued to her every movement. Again, she seemed entranced by the rhythm of the song. She looked like she was… home.

After the song went off and the DJ transitioned to another song, she straightened up and peered around at the small crowd cheering for her. She blushed, waved a vote of thanks, and whispered something to Golden Madison, another of our castmates. I'm not sure how or why, but my feet started moving toward the pair. I could sense that Isaiah wasn’t far behind.

“No, girl, you can’t leave now. You are literally the life of the party, and the night is young!” I overheard Golden saying.

“I agreed to be your plus one on one of my sacred days off to congratulate you and love on you. It’s almost 2 am; I think I’ve done my fair share of ‘plus-oneing’. I need to get to my bed,” the mystery girl said playfully.

“Please, we’ll leave in like another hour or so. I promise,” Golden begged.

“Girl! I have errands to run and other things to do tomorrow. I have to go, but I love you deep! I’m so proud of you!” the girl kissed. Golden pouted and noticed Izzy and I standing there.

“Hey yall,” Golden squeaked. Her friend turned around to see who Golden was speaking to, and our eyes locked for the second time tonight.

“Hey, Goldie,” I said.

“I thought you left already. I know you don’t stay out late much,” she stated.

“Yea, I was on my way out, and then I heard all the commotion coming from the dancefloor and thought I’d see what was going on,” I replied.

“And there was a lot going on,” Izzy chimed, staring suggestively at the girl we both couldn’t take our eyes off of.

“My girl is and has ALWAYS been the truth!”

“Does your girl have a name?”

“Yea, you not gonna introduce us? Rude!”

“Shut up, Izzy. Aldis, Izzy, this is my best friend Amara. Amara, these clowns are the co-stars of the Alex Cross, Alex and Izzy,”

“It’s nice to meet you both,” she shook our hands. Hers were so soft, and her handshake was firm. I held her hand a little longer than customary before letting her go. The absence of the warmth of her hand when I let go of her instantly felt unnatural. Wrong even.

“Goldie, I gotta go. Love you,” Amara said, turning toward Goldie

“Ugh, you’re being so lame!” Goldie let out in frustration.

The DJ started playing ‘Hot’ by Efosa. I watched her close her eyes in loathing. She turned to Goldie and said, “This is my damn song, and I feel like you told him to play this!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Goldie said, feigning innocence. “If you going then, go!”

Amara lets out a long sigh. The next thing I knew, my right hand was in hers, and she was leading me back onto the dancefloor. She laid it on me. Her hips moved left and right. She planted her ass directly where my dick laid dormant until — now. Looking at the view of her sculpted, exposed lower back up close while she practically whined on my member was mesmerizing. Her hips rotated clockwise then, suddenly with the change of the synths, counterclockwise like she pressed rewind on her previous movement.

She was a force, and I desperately tried to keep up with her while taking her all in. I was pretty sure pre-cum was leaking all in my boxers as I watched her ass ripple up and down as I collided with her. I needed to make her mine, to have the pleasure of being inside her, to learn every twist and turn of that body. By the end of the song, I didn’t care that she was feeling how hard I was at this point. This was all her doing. At the final climax of the song, she threw her head back and tilted to the left to look back at me as she wiggled her ass at warped speed to match the beat. I was gone.

She owned me, and she knew it. When the DJ transitioned, she gave a final bump to my third leg with her ass and rose to her full height. She walked to Goldie and hugged her, followed by a kiss on her cheek. My feet were still planted where they were, missing her warmth and showcasing a hefty hard-on. While walking towards the exit, she glanced at me and flashed a knowing smile. Then she was gone.

“Daaaaaaaaamn, bruh. She left and put the $200 on the dresser, cuz the way she was handling you back there, you definitely got fuck,” he said laughing. He was right, and there was nothing I could do about it. I should’ve ran after her and asked for her information but I couldn’t move. I couldn’t think. I just felt.

————————————————————————-

“Hey baby, what you doing?” Looking at my greatest accomplishment with pride and joy. According to her teachers, she’s ahead of the class in all her subjects. They’ve been testing her to see whether she can skip classes. It was fascinating watching her in her element.

“I’m building a house,” she answered curtly, zipping around to find another piece to glue on. One thing I loved about babygirl was the fact that she did her own thing. It didn’t bother her that the other girls her age were more preoccupied with tea parties and painting their nails. She liked those things, too, but she also loved working with her hands and playing basketball with the other boys in the neighborhood.

She didn’t let the other kids push her around either. You never knew what you were going to get with her. One day, she demanded to go to school in her “princess gown,” the next day, she would wear a snapback, jeans, and the pair of Jays we got together. Her mom thought she sometimes dressed like me when she missed me the most. That was another subject… her mom.

“Ok, well, I want my room facing the backyard. I don’t wanna hear all that noise from the street. Oh, and make sure you hook me up, too. I want a big-screen TV in there.”

“Imma do your room last cause you ain't say ‘please’! That's rude, Daddy.”

I chuckled. “That’s fair, babygirl. That’s fair. My bad. Please and thank you.”

“Mhmm. Now that your movie is done, how long you staying this time?”

“I’m going be here until I get another role that I wanna do, then it’s the usual. I take the meetings and talk to some people, and if they like me, they’ll tell me when I start.”

“They always like you, Daddy. You’re the best!”

I beamed. “Thank you, baby girl. That means a lot coming from you. They can give me all the awards they want to, but–”

“But if you don’t get one from me, then nothing matters. I know, Daddy. You say that every time.” She smiled, and half rolled her eyes.

“That’s because I mean it!” I exclaimed, tapping her nose with my index finger.

“I know.”

“So now that you got me all to yourself for a while, what you wanna do?”

“Well, Imma finish the house, then maybe later you can make me a burger cause imma be hungry. After that, we can go to the movies. After that, maybe we can go to a basketball game. Eric said ain't no way I’m going to the Knicks game. I told him that my daddy takes me when he’s home, and he called me a liar. So we gotta go to the Knicks game so I can see Karl-Anthony, then we gotta take pictures so he can shut up. After that, I wanna go to the skating rink because Tina and Tasha said we gotta get good by the summer so we can skate outside. Then after that—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. I see you got a lot of plans. Tell you what, for today, I’ll leave you to your house and get the burgers ready. We’ll go to the movies later on tonight. Tomorrow, we can go to Home Depot and get some lights and other stuff to hook your house up. How’s that sound?”

“YAAAAAAAY!!! Daddy, how you know I wanted to put some lights in here?!?!”

“Cause you been on the computer watching YouTube videos of mini houses and how to put lights up,” I replied with a smirk.

“You can see that?”

“I can see everything, babygirl. Remember that.” I finished, giving her a peck on the forehead, and headed downstairs to the kitchen.

I worked quickly, seasoning the ground turkey and forming the patties. They were ready in no time. While working on the last batch of seasoned fries, my phone rang.

“Nigga, whatchu doing?” Isaiah blurted.

“Me and babygirl finna eat these burgers. What’s good?” I declared, gazing proudly at the meal I drummed up.

“Oh, so you back? Good,” he asked, referring to my choice to stay another week in LA to decompress before flying back to New York.

“Yea I got back in yesterday.”

“Yea, well, remember lil mama from the wrap party?”

“Who?”

“Nigga, the one you was drooling over. Don’t play like you don’t know who I’m talking about.”

I laughed sheepishly. I couldn’t forget her if I tried. “Whatever. Wussup?”

“Uh huh, anyway, I saw her at one of the studios on Kingston Ave in the Heights.” I marveled at how your friend, who was anxious about riding the subway just last month when he first got here, is rattling off streets in Brooklyn like a pro even though he lives in Harlem. I loved how he was getting comfortable in a place that would always be home.

“And what were you doing in Brooklyn?” I asked curiously.

“Never you mind what I was doing in Brooklyn. Did you hear what I said? Your girl is dancing her fine ass up and down Brooklyn with some brown-skinned Dominican muthafucka! You talmbout ‘what you doing in Brooklyn’? Anyway, I just texted you the address to the dance studio. Make your way over there.”

“Uh huh, leave that Zina girl alone, nigga. You’re married. I ain't gon’ tell you bout that shit no more. Tighten up!” I snapped.

As much as I loved having Isaiah in my city, bending blocks, booking gigs, and getting closer, he’s been losing his way. I’ve always looked up to him in more ways than one. He held so much knowledge and experience. Lately, I’ve noticed him putting off his responsibilities to his house and home. Especially when it came to Zina, a 39-year-old creative director of Epic Records who worked closely with us on the soundtrack of Cross.

She lived in Brooklyn and returned home 2 weeks before we wrapped. Isaiah was supposed to go home and spend time with his wife and two kids. Instead, he bought a brownstone in Harlem and moved some of his things out here. I pressed him about his sudden decision, and he said that he needed some time to think and that Lisa agreed. I knew there was more to the story, but I didn’t press him.

I introduced him to some of my friends and showed him around so that he would get more acclimated. Sometime later, I heard he was running up to Brooklyn to see some girl. I started putting two and two together. When I finally confronted him, he fell silent and told me to let him straighten his shit out, and he would let me do the same with mine. I left him knowing that I disapproved and that if I was asked, I wouldn’t lie to him. Now, I see none of my words struck a chord with him.

“Yea whatever, nigga. Get to that studio.” he said and hung up. I pondered what would be the reason for me to barge into a dance studio with my size and build. I did not want to make it obvious that I was there for her but I needed to see her. I wasn’t sure why.

After getting babygirl fed, we headed to the movies. Wicked was a dope movie. Babygirl and I discussed the different themes and lessons she picked up in the film. This girl was so bright and full of life. I couldn’t believe how perfect she was. Blessed and proud, I couldn’t even begin to cover it. Next morning, we did our morning routine of hygiene, outfit choices, breakfast, and affirmations, and I dropped babygirl off at school.

“Aye, man, you the guy from Underground, right?” I heard a voice say as I entered one of my favorite coffee shops. I turned around to face him.

“Yea, man. How you doing?”

“Oh man, my girl gon flip. She loves you. You dope or whatever. Can I get a pic witchu?”

“Yea man, C’mon”

We took a couple of pictures, and I dapped him up. I told him about Cross, and he said he would spread the word. I reached the counter to order my favorite drink, and my favorite barista was there.

“Oh, shit, everybody. My favorite actor after Denzel is here!” Assata shouted.

“Here you go! You gotta do that every time I come up here? You know I’m tryna be incognegro” I responded, feigning annoyance.

“Shut up. You love my announcements, and I love doing ‘em”

“Whatever, ya pops and Man man here. I wanted to say wussup to them real quick before I start a little bit of work.”

“Al, you just finished working. When you gonna take a minute to breathe? Enjoy that little girl before you jet off.”

“First of all, you in my business. Second, babygirl says ‘hey’ and that the last time she came in here and got a hot chocolate Man Man made it too hot, and she burned her tongue. So I’m here to beat his ass. Next, I did take time to decompress but I got a baby now and like everybody else, I’m tryna make sure everybody eats. Lastly, go get ya Pops!”

“Mhmm. You ain’t gotta jump down my throat. I’m just saying that you can take more than a week and some change to relax and enjoy your accomplishments,” she said, making her way to the back room.

A second later, Pops, aka Mr. Johnson, came from behind. As far as I was concerned, he was part of the family. My family had been coming to his coffee shop and bakery since I was a kid. He looked out for me when my own father was busy working three jobs, and when we didn’t have what we needed for school, he looked out in every way possible. Every time I’m home, I make sure I see him and see if he needs anything. He always declines my help, but I always end up getting my way.

We spoke for a while about what was going on in the neighborhood and how he kept getting incessant calls trying to get him to sell his property. I knew from how he spoke about the neighborhood and this shop that he would never sell. He wasn't going anywhere if I had anything to do with it. He was one of the few black businesses left in the neighborhood and probably the only one that wasn’t drowning in massive debt. I saw to that.

After an hour or so, I excused myself and headed to one of the tables across from the window to start looking at a list of upcoming films and shows that have been greenlit and looking to cast. Then, I took a couple of meetings and started finishing up some work I had been putting off for my side projects. Everybody knows I keep a job. I was always working. At first, it started out as a way to get out of debt and make sure that I was never homeless or destitute again. Then, I kept going because I feared that everything I had could be taken from me at any moment, and I needed something. Then I started making excuses about why I couldn’t sit still. That reminded me I had to check in with my guy Mark for our therapy session I had to reschedule.

When that was completed, I googled the address Isaiah sent me. Google maps street view allowed me to see the inside and outside of the building. It was definitely of a modern design. It also looked like it doubled as a community center for the youth. Going down a rabbit hole, I learned about the studio's founder and watched a couple of interviews about the community center and why it was founded. Then she appeared.

Amara Omena talked about how the center was a refuge for her to explore her talent as a dancer when her parents admonished and banished her from their home when she stood firm in her decision to pursue dancing full-time instead of becoming an engineer. I was transfixed as she spoke and couldn’t peel my eyes from hers. I also wondered what kind of people would force their kids out in the cold because they wanted to go for their dreams.

I thought to babygirl, and how I would be over the moon if she told me that she wanted to dance or be a plumber… shit, she could tell me that she wanted to sell her collection of rocks, and I would find a way for her to make that happen. My heart felt for Amara in more ways than one. Before I knew what was happening, I was on the phone with the center's founder and told them I would be there on Monday. I discussed a couple of other things with them and hung up.

The weekend came and went and babygirl and I went everywhere she could possibly think to go. I even went back to the coffee shop and play-fought Man Man for making babygirl’s hot chocolate too hot. I threatened to whoop his ass again if he burned my baby. Babygirl got a kick outta that. I dropped her off at her mom’s house, hopped on the A express, got off at Hoyt-Schermerhorn, then got on the C and rode that down to Crown and Utica station. As I walked to Kingston Ave, I took in the sights.

There were some new establishments, but I was glad to see that some of the old ones I grew up with were still there. I made a mental note to take babygirl to the Brooklyn Museum. Finally, I arrived at the Kingston Community Center and went inside. I signed in at the front desk and asked the receptionist where I could sit while I waited for Dr. Simmons to meet me.

“I know you, baby. You don’t need to sign in. I already told Dr. Simmons that you were here when I saw you walking up, witcho fine ass. She’s coming down,” the receptionist said, winking at me. I chuckled.

“Thank you ma’am”

“Anything for you, baby. My name is Linda Brentwell, but everybody calls me Ms. Lee. You single?” she asked. I choked, caught off guard. This woman was firmly in her 60s and flirting with me unabashedly.

“That’s enough, Ms. Lee. Thank you,” a voice said from behind her. “Hell,o Mr. Hodge, I’m Dr. Simmons. We spoke over the phone.”

I shook her hand. “Nice to meet yo,u Dr. Simmons”

“Follow me. The kids are down the hall,” she announced.

She told me how grateful she was to receive a call from me and how much it would mean to the kids. She gave me a working itinerary of how the day would go. I spoke with the kids first, signing autographs. They’d watch an episode of Underground, and then I would get a tour of the facility. I chopped it up with the kids and had a blast. I knew babygirl was a riot, but these kids were talented and full of life. They came from all kinds of bullshit out there, and despite everything, they found some semblance of hope and peace at the center.

Its establishments like these mean everything to the community. I made a mental note of everything the kids said about the place and assured them this wouldn’t be the last they saw of me. I took a picture with each of them and then gave them autographs. I’ll tell my assistant to check in with the center and give the kids goodie bags.

A teen named Keith waited for me by the door to give me a tour of the center. I chopped it up with him as we walked around the building. I asked him to deviate from the routine and to show me the dance studio last. He mentioned how a generous donor, a contact from one of the instructors of the dance studio, helped remodel the building, which gave them a lot of space. It was about 6:30pm when we finally made it to the dance studio.

It was on the 4th floor and bathed in a soft, amber sunset that filtered through the tall windows, casting elongated shadows on the polished wooden floor. The air was thick with the scent of fresh wood and a hint of sweat, the lingering evidence of hours of movement—the walls lined with floor-to-ceiling mirrors. A single barre ran the length of one side, worn smooth by countless hands. At the far end, a stereo system hummed, its speakers poised like silent sentinels.

A bin was riddled with worn ballet shoes, jazz heels, and some tap shoes. Gym bags and jacks piled next to the cubbies found next to the door. The loud thud of landing jumps and shifting feet quickly hit your ears when you opened the door. I looked around until I spotted her. Her hips swayed and shifted to the beat, the familiar sight melting my resolve. The choreographer’s next formation led her to the front, where she twirled, leaped in the air, and landed in a split.

“Damn,” is all that escaped me as I watched her pop her ass in the split and look directly into the mirror. She knew exactly what she was doing, making me wonder what else she knew. “I know. Amara is cold. You see all the dudes we passed getting to the door?” “Yea” “They here to watch her. Every time. They stay on her body,” he said. “Is that right?” “On God.”

That bit of information only strengthened my resolve to make sure that I was the only one “on her body,” as he put it.

“Class. We have a special guest with us today. Everyone say ‘Hello’ to Mr. Aldis Hodge, actor, philanthropist, artist, and watchmaker,” she finished as everyone clapped. I gestured my vote of thanks for their warm welcome.

“Thank you so much for your warm welcome. Wait, hold up. How did you know I made watches and painted them? Let me find out if you've been stalkin a brother,” I joked. The room erupted in laughter. I looked at her, and a small smile crept onto her face. “I was given a great tour. Keith did an excellent job, and we stopped by the studio last to see if I could get some time to learn a few moves real quick.”

“We’d be honored to have you. Here, you can partner with one of our finest, Amara.” “Only if it isn’t a bother,” I posited, looking at her. “No. Not at all,” she said softly. “Alright, y'all all since Mr. Hodge is joining us, we will take it down and practice or choreo to Toni’s ‘You’re Makin’ Me High,’” the instructor, who answered to the name Jamaica, said. She went over the first part of the choreography step by step. It was simple enough, even though I got a couple of chuckles and redirects from Amara. After a couple of individual practices, we all came together and rehearsed them. For someone who only two steps, ya boi was getting it in. I didn’t look out of place. When I got to pull Amara in and dance with her, I felt the same rush I felt two months ago when she took my breath away with the whining of her waist.

Can’t get my mind off you/ Think I might be obsessed/ The very thought of you makes me wanna get undressed/ I wanna be with you in spite of what my heart says/ I guess I want you too bad…

Toni was speaking my exact sentiments through the speakers, which must have shown because once we were done with steps, a round of applause erupted.

“Okay, chemistry!!! Mr. Hodge, how long you gonna be in town because we may need you to perform this with us?” Jamaica asked. Reluctantly I broke eye contact with Amara in order to answer Jamaica. “I can move some things around. Let me know what yall need.” “Oh, don’t tell me that 'cause I’mma hit your line about it too!” “I got you,” I replied, looking back at Amara.

I learned a couple of other things, and by the time the class was over, I had come out of my quarter zip and drenched my beater. I walked over to get a towel.

“Of all the dance studios in Brooklyn, you walk into this one?” I heard a voice beside me say. I removed the towel from my face to look at her. “Aint that something?” She looked at me intently. “You aren’t following me, are you?” “You cute and all, but I don’t need to stalk women to speak to them,” I replied. I lied. She wasn’t cute, she was gorgeous. The way a single bead of sweat curved around her brown slid down her temple and cheek, and curved down her jaw made me want to lick it. While it was a happy coincidence that Isaiah’s cheating ass happened to run into her going into the studio, the rest was all me. I definitely was looking into her and learning all I could about her. She looked at me momentarily, said, “Ok then,” and turned on her heels. I fucked up. I didn’t want to make it seem as though I wasn’t interested at all, but that was the energy it was giving. I had to save the moment.

“But since we are both here and it’s late, is there a place you like to go to grab something to eat?” I asked, hoping this would bring the conversation back to a good place. “The bodega around the corner has bomb sandwiches.” “You wanna walk together?” “You cute and all, but I usually don't go with men places unless I know them.” “So you think I’m cute?” “I think you’re capable of finding a bodega and getting a sandwich.”

I smirked. “You got it. If you change ya mind, that’s where I’ll be headed.” I cleaned myself off, threw on my quarter zip and jacket, and headed down with Keith. After saying goodbye to Keith and the other kids waiting to be picked up, I headed to the bodega she had mentioned. There was a high possibility that I fucked things up back there, but something in me hoped— prayed she would just see it as nerves and come anyway.

When I got to the bodega, I placed my order and got two more orders. I walked around the store and stopped in the back. I pulled out my phone and checked a couple of texts. I got two drinks out of the fridge and returned to the side of the store where they were making the sandwiches. Like clockwork, the store manager came out to inspect the ground. He was orange with long whiskers and a striped tail. If you’re in NY and you don’t see a bodega cat, be suspicious. “Papi, ya order is next," said the Bodega owner. “Thank you.” I went back to check my phone to pass the time. I responded to one email about a potential role and thought about some others. “Three orders? You just knew I was coming, huh!” I heard from behind me. I turned around, and there she stood.

--------------------------------------------------------- Thanks for reading this very elaborate meet-cute and hopefully the start of yet another series that I will finish (lol). I've tagged everyone that I could remember too, but if you're coming across me for the first time and want to be tagged in this fic or any others, please comment and let me know you wanna be tagged!

Tags: @thecapodomme @writers-of-tmblr @melaninpov @spaceslutsworld @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @mymusicbias @the-black-label @master-builder42 @miraculously-dumb-bitch @megamindsecretlair @hopefulromantic1 @tranquilfandomer @thadelightfulone @vivalaorgasm @hotgrlcece @planetblaque @blackgurlnhermoods @andriaharris @theblacklewinsky @kumkaniudaku @lovelyflames @girlbeblogging @toiadeenovels @longpause-awkwardsmile @sweettea-and-honeybutter @sirenmouths @almostelectroniccheesecake @liquorlaughslove @meleekabenjamin @19jammmy @thoseprettywords @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @stellarxfresh @noirelyfe @moooonluvr @kinginwithbreezy-blog @bunniibooooo @sk1121-blog1 @luckydaye777 @hgabdakhtui @ovohanna24 @bratattack209 @greantii @rue0224 @jazziejax @whatdreamsaremadeofbitch @absentmindeddreamer @soft-persephone @dragonfly1207 @strawberrymoon45 @kxngkaykay @nayaesworld @uzumaki-rebellion @wolfiediaries @off-pink @zoey101-2 As always, let me know what you think about this fic. Comment, Reblog, Like, Tell A Friend!

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violetmuses · 3 months ago

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Alex Cross + Female Reader ❤️‍🩹

Fandom: “Cross” - Amazon Prime Series

Character: Alex Cross

@yourstrulyylauren @carefree-melanin @blackmissfrizzle 🏷

======

2024

Detective Alex Cross moved along the well-known paths of Washington D.C. as usual, but paused when you stood on this sidewalk located nearby.

Despite his calm demeanor, Cross grinned and waved over, prompting your attention.

“Alex? Hi!” You opened both arms and hugged the sleeves of his towering coat, grateful.

You've worked as a legal assistant for quite some time after joining this metro area.

“On my way to the police station, but how are you?” His strong voice offered kindness.

“Can't complain. How are you?” You gently understood this question and knew that his wife passed away not long ago.

“Hanging in there. That's all I can do right now, especially for the kids.” Cross never stopped thinking of his wonderful children, even through grief.

“Of course.” You nodded. “Take care.”

“Thank you.” Alex volleyed back.

Glancing over your shoulder, you offered this smile to make Alex feel better and vanished elsewhere, leaving him.

Damn. His thoughts whispered.

#alex cross #Alex Cross x reader #cross amazon #aldis hodge #❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹#slight angst #fanfiction #my first attempt #fluff!#my writing #violetmuses #💜💜💜#open ending

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cloveroctobers · 3 months ago

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| PART IV! |

𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚊 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚍𝚐𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚎 🎶

Here you’ll find all winter works during this magical season 🎁🦌❄️🥶

[PROMPTS…!]

b*tch who stole Christmas ~ Jimmy Holiday (Rez Ball)

santa doesn’t know you like i do ~ [Multi] JJ Maybank, Cleo Anderson, & Barry (OBX)

one of these ~ Alex Cross (Cross —Amazon series)

string of lights ~ Armando Aretas (Bad Boys franchise)

wishlist ~ Luca (The Bear)

let it snow ~ Terry Richmond (Rebel Ridge)

so yeah ~ Roman Reigns (WWE)

streetivities ~ Dante Torres (Chicago PD)

starting to get to you ~ Paul Cho (Beef)

access all areas ~ Zilla Fatu (ROW)

rust ~ Bode Leone (Fire Country)

open hearts ~ Manny (Mayans MC)

[WINTER WORKS!]

1. Slippin’ — Dante Torres + part of “killing me,” series (Chicago PD)

2. Memory game — Dante Torres + part ii. To Slippin’ (Chicago PD)

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eepersjeepers · 11 months ago

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Crying my eyes out? Over Leverage fan fiction? Over an Eliot!hurt fic? No. No I’d never do that. That would be silly.

Unrelated, but

Would anyone happen to have any tissues?

Anyone?

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chaneajoyyy · 2 months ago

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KOFI SIRIBOE FANFICTION

k.t.s.e series- @lemmewritesomeish

feelin' it- @siribaes

watch and wait ft. aldis hodge- @fineanddandy

use me- @henneseyhoe

the coffee shop- @blackloveblacktea

RALPH ANGEL BORDELON FANFICTION

infraction, nature, friends to lovers- @desiraypark

***IF Y'ALL HAVE FANFICTION PLEASE HIT MY LINE!***

#the plug #librarian at your service #let's chat #sip tea #talk fanfiction #talk kofi siriboe fanfiction #fanfiction #kofi siriboe fanfiction

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henneseyhoe · 3 months ago

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IM SO SATTTT 😭

CROWN ROYAL

Your hands on my hips pull me right back to you

I catch that thrust, give it right back to you

You're in so deep, I'm breathing for you

You grab my braids, arch my back high for you

You're diesel engine, I'm squirting mad oil

Down on the floor 'til my speaker starts to boil

I flip s***, quick slip, hip dip and I'm twisted

In your hands and your lips and your tongue tricks

And you're so thick and you're so thick and you're so

Crown royal on ice, crown royal on ice

Crown royal on ice, crown royal on ice…

Brandy is married to a successful, D.C Detective named Alex Cross. They have a happy marriage filled with love and passion, but things become interesting when Alex has an old friend visit for an extended period.

His name is Terry Richmond and he’s a former Marine.

A single, hunk of a man with a strong silent presence.

And apparently a rather sizable…

It wasn’t Brandy’s fault she’d crossed paths with him when he was…

#yall tooo creative omg #aaron pierre x black!oc #aaron pierre #terry richmond #nahimjustfeelingit-writes #alex cross #aldis hodge #black fanfic writer #black fanfiction #black!reader

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twistedcharismaaa · 5 years ago

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Happy Birthday

Summary: Aldis’ plea is finally heard.

Author’s Note: Hi guyssss! I hope you are doing well! I’m back with something new! It’s a little ... different but I hope you guys enjoy! Please leave a comment for ya girl! I love you guys so much!!!

He was searching for something deeper - something that he couldn’t easily put into words. Something that felt beyond him as if it was physically unattainable. Spiritual maybe? It was utterly inescapable, continuously plaguing his mind night after night gnawing at his thoughts like blackened crows. Imprisoned, forced to consume this feeling in his drinks, in his food, in his literature, and in his music as if he was endlessly damned. He screamed his frustrations to deafened ears and mourned to the blind. The only friend he knew was loneliness and he wished to know more - to be more. Something more than a shipwrecked mess but, as time passed he settled into bitterness as if they were silk sheets. Completely comfortable in being uncomfortable.

Another night, Aldis sat at his kitchen table drinking the clear liquid before him as if it was water. His eyes became glossed over with tiredness as his lips pressed against the rim of the cool glass letting his drunkenness shift into dark intoxication. Gradually his breathing slowed. With each drawing breath, his eyelids became as heavy as burdens. Finishing his drink with impure intentions he grunted loudly before slamming the glass on the walnut-colored table. Relying fully on the table’s solidity, Aldis staggered to his feet. He swayed back and forth like trees in a harsh wind as he traveled down the hall. After swinging his bedroom door open with accidental aggression, he teetered to his bed. Carelessly he plopped himself on the bed. He rested his aching mind on the plushness of the pillow and stared out of the window. With blurred vision he watched the rain pour harshly on his windowpane. He observed the rain crash onto his window like liberated ocean waves until he fell asleep.

After several hours he opened his eyes and saw her. A shimmering brown-skinned goddess laying her head cozily on the pillow beside him as if she belonged. She stared into his midnight-colored eyes as if she was searching for something. She wore a gentle smile on her parted lips as she gently stroked her golden necklace. Still staring into him, she fingered the medallion that rested in the center of her chest casually inching closer to him. Silently, she reached out to him slowly cupping his face gradually caressing it with tenderness. Even though Aldis was startled by the nameless stranger in his home, he couldn’t help but melt into her touch. He didn’t know if she was casting some type of spell or if this was her natural aura but, he felt peace. He enjoyed the way her thumb repeatedly brushed against his lonely cheek and the background noise of the thunder rumbling. His curious eyes wandered her soft features as if he was walking through an art gallery. Her skin was coated in the purest brown sugar and topped in the sweetest honey. He noticed the eerie makeup that tainted her almond complexion adding contrast to her light nature. As minutes passed, it seemed as if her coffee-colored eyes began to pierce through him. He placed his hand on top of hers as he closed his eyes reveling in the warmness of her palm as if he was at her mercy. He sighed deeply as he felt his hand become wet from his own hushed tears.

“I feel your pain,” the woman said earnestly.

“What is wrong with me?” he whispered in desperation.

“This world just isn’t enough for you. That’s all,” she responded.

Aldis opened his eyes, removed his hand from hers, and placed it on the mattress. The woman withdrew her hand from his cheek and settled it on her pillow. Aldis turned away from the stranger to lay flat on his back giving him a new comfortable position.

“I’m drunk,” he chuckled to himself while shaking his head.

“That’s true. But that doesn’t mean I’m not real,” she replied.

“Who are you?” he quizzed while staring at his white ceiling above.

“That doesn’t matter. But you can call me Aya,” she answered.

“Well, Aya, how did you find me?” Aldis questioned.

“I come to those who call out for me,” she said as she turned away from Aldis mimicking his current position.

“I don’t know you. So how could I possibly call out for you?” he asked as his brows furrowed from the confusion.

“You called me through your pain. I have many unique gifts and one of them is hearing the unheard,” she answered candidly.

“So if someone falls down and scrapes their knee, you come running?” he quizzed.

Aya felt the corners of her mouth curve upwards before she giggled.

“You’re funny,” she said. “Quite witty actually.” she continued.

Aya lifted herself off the bed slowly. She sat up while swinging her legs off the side of the bed before standing upright. She put her hand on the chilled window as she watched the raindrops splatter on the windowpane.

“But to answer your question, no. I only hear the uttermost of things. It’s like being drawn to something. I can’t exactly explain it to you fully. But I was drawn to you - I am drawn to you,” she said as she turned away from the window to face him.

Aldis turned his neck towards her and watched her quietly for a brief moment before sitting up. As he sat up, he was welcomed by an unfavorable headache. He swung his legs to the side of the bed and stood up gradually. He walked over to Aya fully towering her with his height. She looked up to him with eyes full of compassion.

“How do I live in a world that isn’t enough?” he asked candidly.

“You don’t. You make your own,” she answered confidently.

“How do I do that?” he questioned.

Aya looked down then back to him with a cunning look on her face.

“Rebirth,” she replied.

“Rebirth insinuates that something or someone must die,”

“It does,” she answered while nodding.

Aldis squinted his eyes as he sat back on his messy bed. He twiddled his thumbs repeatedly as he contemplated his next words. He bounced his right leg constantly as if he was nervous.

“You came to kill me,” he said. “You came to kill me,” he echoed.

“Aldis, do you trust me?” she asked kindly while extending her palm towards him.

“I’m so tired,” he answered with sorrowful eyes. He placed his hand in hers accepting her invitation.

“I don’t want to be tired anymore,” he continued.

“I know,” she answered softly.

Aya grabbed Aldis’ free hand as she stared into his vulnerable eyes. Her coffee-colored eyes began to glow brighter than the sun. Low clouds began to fill the vacant air. Aya shifted her neck towards the left then the right. Wings protruded from her back and fluttered gracefully. She quickly wrapped her wings around Aldis as if he was in a cocoon. She blew a quick breath at him causing him to feel weak. She released his hands and immediately seized his face.

“Every night you screamed to the heavens, I heard you. Every day you ached for peace, I felt it. I hear you, Aldis. You are heard and I promise your death will be glorious.” she whispered.

She smiled at Aldis once more before biting into his neck. She felt his warm blood glide down her throat like fine wine. Aldis’ eyes began to roll towards the back of his head as he felt himself losing consciousness. His mouth became agape as if he was gasping for air that wasn’t there. Aya removed her mouth from his neck as she watched a clear substance grow on his skin. The substance coated his sunkissed pigment forming a visible cocoon. Aya removed her wings and stepped back watching the cocoon grow rapidly. As Aldis took his last breath, the cocoon covered his face entirely.

“Happy Birthday, Aldis,” she spoke.

-----

Part 2

@ghostfacekill-monger @l-auteuse @thickemadame @shaekingshitup @chaneajoyyy @lostennyc @essaysbyciara @scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade @thadelightfulone @sarcastic-sunshines @qweentbh @honeytoffee @mygirlrenee @lovesunnyandmary @fandomfavesss @anon-nom-nom95 @jamielennkeeler

#bonnie bennett #the vampire diaries #the originals #aldis hodge #aldis hodge x black reader #aldis hodge fanfiction #aldis hodge fanfic #aldis hodge movies #aldis hodge x black!reader #aldis hodge x !blackreader

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