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starcrossedxwriter · 1 year ago

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Built for Love Part 11 (MBJ x Famous Black OC)

Warnings: a bit of angst, lots of fluff, NSFW

A/N: I don't wanna give a single thing away about this chapter so I'm just gonna say enjoy!

“What are you doing outta bed?” Michael paused scrambling eggs on the stove to throw her a glance that matched the exasperation and annoyance in his tone. “I told you I’d bring it to you.”

Charlotte’s slippers made scuffing noises across the hardwood floor as she made her way to the kitchen island.

“Thank you but you’ve sequestered me in that bed since Saturday and I didn’t fight you on it once. It’s Wednesday and if I lay there for one more second, I was gonna lose my mind. I’ve slept enough for a lifetime.” She glanced down at the kitchen island, heavy laden with breakfast. She spied breakfast potatoes, bacon, sausage, fruit, and biscuits. “Now who is all this food for??”

“You,” he responded simply. “You needed sleep and now you need calories. You’ve been losing weight since we moved here and that stops now.”

Charlotte could not deny that was true. It was unintentional but her soft curves had certainly lost much of their curviness since she moved to New York. She was not at her skinniest by any means, but the rigorous performances and practices, her regular workout routine, and the stress caused the pounds to shed without her even realizing it.

She popped a piece of cantaloupe in her mouth as she walked up to him. “This is very sweet and everything smells delicious. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Now go sit.”

Charlotte moaned. Dr. Jordan was the strictest fake doctor she had ever met in her life. He barely gave her a chance to stand and stretch her legs.

“Babeeeee,” she whined, wrapping her arms around his midsection. Her forehead rested on his back. “I can stand for a few minutes. He fucked up my upper body, my legs still work just fine.”

“You need to rest and relax, Charlotte. Damn,” he muttered under his breath. “Worst patient I’ve ever seen.”

“How many girls have you nursed back to health from near death, babe? Damn, I thought I was your first for once,” she joked. However, when it fell flat, she grimaced. “Too soon?”

“Wayyyy too soon, baby. How’re you feeling?”

“Fi-” she started to say but remembered her promise. It included this. She pressed her lips to his back, his taunt and bare muscles flexing at her touch.“B-better. Nightmares weren’t so bad last night… just a couple so that’s progress… torturously slow progress,” she added. “And I made an appointment with my old therapist. We’re gonna do virtual sessions till I get back to LA.”

Michael turned from the stove, still in the grip of her arms, to face her. He gave her an encouraging smile. “That’s great, Els.” He was proud of her, he knew how hard that was… that she likely felt as if she was backtracking or starting over. “Why didn’t you wake me last night?”

“You need to sleep too, Dr. Jordan. All this taking care of and fussing over me, I know you’re not resting.”

“I’ll rest when those heal.” He lifted her chin lightly to look at the bruising on her neck. He knew they would get worse before they got better but his eyes glazed over with rage every time he looked at her bruises, particularly the ones around her neck. He could make out exactly where his hands were, a temporary brand to what he tried to do.

Charlotte rubbed his arm, an attempt to soothe the brewing emotions she could feel inside him. She always admired his emotional intelligence, how he was able to reign in his emotions and rage even when he so clearly wanted to find the nearest punching bag or Shaun’s face and have at it. “I’ve had worse. It always looks way worse than it feels. Well, that’s not true. The first day, it felt worse than it looked. But it’s not too bad now. I promise. And I’d rather you rest now. I really am ok.”

Despite her assurances, she could tell he did not believe her. She sighed, wondering when she would earn his trust again. That was honestly the hardest part in all this for her, knowing that her actions had caused her to lose it in the first place.

“How long is it gonna take for you to trust me when I say that again?” She asked quietly. She wasn’t angry, there were consequences to her actions and this was one of them. But it did break her heart. She hated the idea that he did not trust her words. This was their first real issue as a couple, the first time she had to contend with them not being on the same page.

Michael sighed, his hand going to scratch the scruff of his beard for a moment. “It’s not a question of trust, Els. Because I do trust you. And I’m not tryin’ to hold this against you. But this taught me that for better or worse, your default is to deal with your shit alone. To hide and, if needed, lie to avoid bothering or worrying other people. And I get it, I understand why. But I won’t lie and pretend like this shit didn’t shake me up a lot. Being stuck in LA knowing something wasn’t right even though you promised it was. Seeing you after the show shaken and scared and not knowing why… seeing you nearly dead on the floor when I was one room over. That ain’t shit I’m gonna get outta my head anytime soon. When you say you’re good, I wanna know that’s true. But I also know it’s gonna take a lot more than a promise and a few days for that to happen. You gotta work on trusting me with your problems and your pain and that shit takes time. And in the meantime, I’m gonna work on taking you at your word but I might also just need… some reassurances that you’re really ok.”

She understood why Michael was being so protective. She could tell he still felt guilty, though he shouldn’t, about not being there to protect her in the first place. And now, he acted as if she needed to be wrapped in bubble wrap at all times. He barely let her out of his sight and if it was not an absolute necessity, he barely let her out of bed. She understood the impulse. If it made him feel better to fuss, she would not deny herself or him that.

“I understand. I didn’t think about how all of that would affect you… scare you. And I am sorry. Whatever reassurances you need and fussing you wanna do for as long as you wanna do it, I won’t fight you on it. Promise.”

“Thank you.” He kissed her nose, her face scrunching up a bit. “How’s the pain?”

“Manageable. Head is still pounding, everything’s a bit stiff but I feel like I can get up and move around a bit. Or at least move from the bed to the couch for a change of scenery. Maybe convince the best and sexiest doctor in New York to take me on a walk after breakfast so I can breathe some fresh air?”

He eyed her suspiciously. “You sure you're up for that?”

“Probably not up for a long one,” she admitted. “But even if it’s just 10 minutes… the cameras and reporters have finally moved on to bothering someone else. We could escape for a bit. I’m going a little stir crazy, Bakari.”

“Fine. Just for a bit then Avengers on the couch?”

“Thank youuuu.”

She ate quickly, finishing two plates at Michael’s insistence.

As they went into their bedroom to change, she raised an eyebrow in shock as Michael handed her one of his favorite sweaters. She had stolen quite a lot of his clothes in the last few months, in which they basically became her clothes and he never saw them again. However, this coveted sweater had always been out of her grasp. He had always made it clear it was one of the few items that were off limits because he knew he’d never get it back. However, she had tried it on one or twice when he wasn’t home and it was like wearing a cloud, so insanely soft.

“Wow… so this whole time all I needed to do was almost die to get this?? Chile, I would’ve done that months ago to get this sweater,” she joked. Though she could see the corner of his mouth twitch, he did not laugh. “Still too soon?”

“If it was too soon 20 minutes ago, it still is, Els.”

“Sorry, Jackson wasn’t a fan of my dark humor about dying the first time either. But it helps to find some humor in it… somewhere. And you gotta admit, it is kinda funny…” She remarked as she pulled on a pair of leggings. They still had to bundle up, one thing Charlotte did miss about LA was the perfect weather year around.

“Ain’t a single humorous thing about any of this, babe.”

“I dunno… I mean no, it isn’t funny. But also, it’s kinda crazy… Since I met him, Shaun’s gone out his way to try to kill me twice… and each time, I’ve survived. Like he is really bad at murder… terrible. I mean, not complaining… Thank God for it. But I would just stop trying if I was 0/2 with the same person, you know? That’s embarrassing??” That did make a small chuckle escape Michael’s lips. “See!! It is kinda funny when you actually think about it.”

“I’m ignoring you,” he called as he went into the closet to pull out their winter coats, baseball caps, and shades. Thankfully, the press and paparazzi surrounding their building had started to dissipate. They had gotten a couple glimpses of her family and Michael coming and going but none of her, thankfully. That was the only thing that would have made this whole ordeal worse, her bruised and battered form thrown across the front page of every newspaper. She knew it was still a possibility, pictures of her injuries from the hospital could leak. The downside of fame, nothing was truly private.

She shrugged as he helped her pull on her coat.

“I’m just saying he’s bad at killing or I am just that good at surviving,” she muttered. “Maybe they should cast me in Black Panther too?” At his confused stare, she smiled. “Cause I clearly have 9 lives like a cat? I could be like your sexy evil accomplice… The Golden Cheetah?”

That did make him laugh for the first time in several days. His hands grabbed her jacket to pull her close to him. “I’ll talk to Ryan about it, how about that?”

“That’s all I ask.” She stretched on her tiptoes to kiss him before he took her hand to lead them outside.

Their walk did not last too long as Michael knew it would not. Not because Charlotte was not up for it but because neither of them wanted to be out in the cold long. But she still appreciated his willingness to acquiesce to her small request. A walk was really the only public thing she cared to do, at least, until all the bruises faded. And she did appreciate the activity, she wanted to keep her limbs from going too stiff. She’d be back on stage next week, the one thing she did have to fight Michael on. Chris was on the verge of an ulcer every day she was out. He called to check on her everyday. She knew he actually cared about her but she also knew he wanted his leading lady back… ASAP. She already felt guilty ruining his opening night, the least she could do is not send him to the hospital from the stress.

But Michael did not push back too much once she promised to have security with her, given that Shaun was officially out on bail. Restraining order or not, she and Michael were not interested in testing whether Shaun would adhere to it. She let Michael pick and vet the guy, who came highly recommended.cHis accolades included knowing more than an acceptable amount of ways to kill someone with his bare hands so she could not deny she would feel more safe in his presence. And the theater security and box office had been alerted and prepped to ensure her ex did not step foot on the premises again. And he no longer, thankfully, even had a legitimate reason to, Chris letting her know he had been fired from his investment firm immediately after the news broke.

Charlotte knew she would not know real peace or be able to fully move on until he was behind bars, which the DA warned could take a year given the docket unless he accepted a plea. But she would accept the small wins and forms of justice that she could get, she knew it was far more than many in her position would ever see.

As she pulled her outer layers and hat off, she got a glimpse of her hair in the mirror.

“Ugh.”

“What?”

“My hair… How can you stand to look at me like this? I look like a troll doll. I’m gonna have to go to the salon or pay someone to come and wash it. I look crusty as hell.”

“How about we relax in the bath and I’ll wash it for you?”

Her face lit up. She remembered when they talked about a similar scene in Creed, the intimacy of helping Bianca do her hair. Her heart swelled at the idea of recreating such a moment. The role of victim and caregiver over the last few days had stripped a layer of emotional intimacy the pair was accustomed to. She knew it would come back eventually but she hoped, perhaps, this small act would speed things up a bit.

“Really?”

He gestured toward the bedroom, taking her hand to get ready for the tub.

Soon, she found herself resting against Michael’s chest in the bath, bubbles surrounding both of them. He did all the work, his fingertips softly massaging shampoo and conditioner in her tresses, Charlotte could’ve fallen to sleep right there.

“Can I ask you something?” Her soft voice breaking the silence between them as Michael worked diligently and carefully to avoid causing her pain. It had been on her mind since they got home, stationed at the forefront for the hours and hours she spent resting or recovering in his arms. Several days removed, the shock had worn off for both of them, she felt like enough time had passed to finally talk about things unrelated to what happened or her safety. They could talk about the future, one she prayed to God she did not completely destroy.

“Shoot.” He took note of the nervousness in her voice. He did not know what she could be about to ask him, what could cause her to be nervous. He was an open book.

“At the hospital… you said you wanted to marry me…” her voice grew quiet, one of her legs drawing into her chest. “Did you mean that? Do you still mean that? Or was it just, you know, you caught up in the emotion of everything?”

His massaging stilled for a moment before he answered, “Yes, yes, and no.” Simple and to the point as he resumed his task.

He could feel her body relax against him again at his answers.

“You don’t wanna elaborate on any of those answers?”

He laughed. “Nah cause it’s pretty cut and dry to me. I’m pretty set on spending the rest of my life with you.”

And that was not him just trying to assure her, it was the truth. He knew in his soul Charlotte was the end game for him well before they went on their first date. He had just been waiting for her to catch on. And once she did, every step he had taken since, including this move to New York, was with the intention of spending every day of the rest of his life with her.

“Even after all this? After I lied to you?”

Michael knew she still felt guilty. Between the two of them, there was much guilt to go around in their household over the last 72 hours. Some of it was fair and some of it was not. But just as he was trying to work through his own guilt, he did not want Charlotte to continue to hold onto hers when he had forgiven her.

“Els, I meant it when I said I forgive you. And when I say somethin’, I mean that shit. Stop beating yourself up over it. I’ve loved you since the moment you walked into the studio for our screen test. And I’ve just fell more and more in love with you with every passing day. All of this changed nothing for me, except reminding me that whatever time we have together, I don’t wanna waste it.”

Her hands played in the tall bubbles of the bath as she contemplated his words.

“That been on your mind since I said it?”

“Yea,” she admitted. “You know, all my time in bed gave me lots of time to ruminate,” she chuckled lightly. “It’s just… I mean we just have never talked about marriage a-and the long-term stuff. I mean and I get it, we haven’t even been together a year. But w-when you said that, it made me really happy because I feel the same about you. B-But then I just… you know, obsessed over it for the last three days wondering if all this changed your mind or made you question whether I’m the person you wanna spend the rest of your life with.”

“Nah, I would’ve married you after our first date if I could’ve.”

Charlotte chuckled and shook her head, small droplets of water spraying everywhere. “We would’ve been skipping about 10 steps there. I want a proposal,” she laughed. “Knowing you, it’ll be something sentimental that makes me break down in tears.”

Thank God she could not see the giant smirk that fell on his face.

“And a big wedding, I assume?”

Charlotte tilted her head as if to contemplate. She knew he expected the answer to be yes, after all most girls dream of a grand wedding. But that had never been her. “Honestly? I was never the girl to dream about the big princess wedding… just the prince,” she teased.

Michael ran a comb through a section of hair, working to detangle it. He was trying to be as gentle as possible, knowing her head still hurt, which meant the whole endeavor took longer than it should have.

“Am I living up to the childhood fantasy?” He asked.

“My wildest dreams couldn’t have conjured you up.”

“I aim to please.” He kissed her shoulder.

“I don’t even really care about planning it. I had to endure J and Lauren’s wedding planning and whew… miserableeee. And they couldn’t even enjoy the day that much. I dunno, I don’t want to be more worried about whether some elaborate affair is going according to plan instead of actually enjoying my wedding day? I wanna be celebrating our love and the first day of our life together. I mean yea, I want a wedding of some sort but it could have 25 people in your backyard. As long as I’m in a drop dead gorgeous dress and you’re waiting on me at the end of the aisle, I honestly don’t need or care about anything else. I’d be fine with a big one if you want one but someone else’s gotta plan it.”

“I’ve never put much thought into my wedding so you won’t get much argument outta me. I would push back on the backyard thing though. Maybe a small destination wedding or a small venue in LA, something like that.”

“I like the sound of that.”

“Speaking of destinations,” he mentioned, shifting gears of the conversation. If they went too much farther down this road, Michael would find a wedding planner to plan a small intimate ceremony for next week. “I think we’ll both finally have some time off in September when you finish here. Let me take you on a trip.”

“Oooo you tryin’ to fly ya girl out?” Michael rolled his eyes at her antics. “Where would you want to go?”

Michael immediately shook his head. His sweet girl was the opposite of decisive. She would let Michael make every decision if she could. And this time, he wanted to go where she wanted to go.

“Nahhh ma, it isn’t to celebrate me. It’s for you. Where do you want to go?”

“It should also be to celebrate us both… a bit delayed sure but we never really did anything to celebrate Creed. That’s your first big leading man blockbuster.” She flipped the script on him.

“Fine, it can be to celebrate us both but you still need to pick.”

“I really hate you,” she laughed. “Well, at least, help me narrow it down. What kind of vacation vibe would you want?”

“Preferably somewhere relaxing where I can have you naked or only in a bikini for most of the trip.”

She could not hide the sly grin on her face at his words, the heat that rose throughout her entire body. She forced the feeling to dampen. They had not had sex yet and given how the other night went, she imagined Michael would pump the brakes again. She understood, but she did not want to deal with the rejection again.

“The Caribbean is an option but September is dead in the middle of hurricane season, so we’d have to be ok with it being canceled potentially.” Michael smiled, he was never one to consider weather patterns before traveling. He barely checked the weather before he stepped outside each day. But of course, Charlotte would think about that. “We could do something like a spot along the Mediterranean? Or something like that. I’ve been wanting to go back to the Amalfi Coast but maybe we should go somewhere we both haven’t been?”

He learned something new about his girl every day. “When did you go there?”

“My first birthday after Shaun… My family surprised me with a vacation there. I had spent most of that whole first year miserable and in bed. The first six months were the hardest. But by the time my birthday came around, I was starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel but still wasn’t there. I was in therapy and still struggling to find me in all of it? And I was just really depressed so the trip was supposed to cheer me up a bit. Lauren, Jazz, one of our other friends, Chelsea, and I all went. And we had a ball,” Michael could feel her entire body light up as she spoke, as if the mere memories of that trip were fuel and power.

“We just ate and drank and ate some more and swam and went on boat rides and just… lived. God, it was the first time I felt uninhibited happiness and relaxation in years. It was kinda my Eat, Pray, Love moment as corny as that is,” she admitted. “One morning, I got up super early and went down to the beach by myself while we were in this town, Ravello. I had this necklace he gave me for my last birthday. Hideous, gaudy silver thing I’d never pick or wear myself. But I couldn’t let it go and clung to that stupid thing since the break up. Anyway, I watched the sun rise and I realized that I’d never be me again. The me before him was dead and gone. But I also realized that maybe that wasn’t a bad thing? Cause the me before him needed that necklace as proof that someone loved me, no matter how hideous and awful that love was. The me before him and during him needed any type of love, no matter the cost of it. And that part of me needed to die. So, instead of trying to resurrect the old me, I decided I would reconnect with the things that made me happy and forge something new. And then I ran into the water and tossed that terrible necklace into the sea. And then I regretted polluting the sea with something that was definitely not biodegradable,” Michael’s deep baritone filled her ears with laughter. “So long way of saying, it just represents new beginnings to me in some way. So even if we don’t go this time around, I’d want to go back with you at some point. But I’d honestly be fine with anywhere as long as I’m with you. So why don’t you just surprise me?”

“Fine. Don’t think I don’t realize you’re using my love of surprises against me.”

She turned and winked at him before he helped her stand and get in the shower to effectively rinse out all of the products. Their afternoon of hair styling continued as she sat between his legs on the couch, Avengers playing on the tv as he moisturized and styled her hair. She savored the help, she hated dealing with her mane of hair. And the intimacy it had created was exactly as she had hoped. And he did an excellent job. Though she could tell his arms were exhausted by the time he finished tying her scarf around her clean and moisturized curls and coils into a pineapple on the top of her head.

“You could’ve been a hairstylist in another life.”

“You didn’t tell me it was such a work out. Boxing didn’t hurt my arms this much,” he laughed.

“Well when you’re prepping for Creed 2 and wanna help me with my hair for extra arm training, let me know. I quite enjoyed not dealing with it for once.”

Her injuries made it difficult to cuddle on the couch as they wanted so Charlotte laid with her head on his lap, his hand resting on her arm as they watched the movie.

“Can I ask you something?” This time it was Michael’s turn, a question that had been on his mind for longer than a few days. He did not know if now was the right time or if there’d ever be a right time. And he did not expect an answer but he wanted her to know he would listen if she was ready to ever share it.

“Of course.”

“And you don’t gotta answer if you don’t want to. But you never told me… what made you finally decide to leave? Was it whatever you dreamed about that night you got sick?”

Charlotte’s eyes clenched shut. It was always a delicate balance. What of Shaun’s brutality to share and what not to. But she knew this was one of those things, the things she needed to learn to trust Michael specifically with. He was home and home was where you could bare it all… your whole soul. He asked and she would answer, no more hiding.

“There’s a lot I haven’t told you about him. I mean a lot of it was the same old same. But somethings, I said I’d never tell anyone, Jackson, Lauren… even you. A-and that nightmare, it was bad, don’t get me wrong. Definitely made the ‘the CIA couldn’t get this out of me,’ shortlist. But the breaking point was, he saw me talking to a reporter after a show one night and thought I was cheating, God he accused me of cheating like twice a week, which just made me so upset. We argued all the way home. He asked me if I wanted to leave him a-and in my frustration and anger, I told him he wasn’t giving me many reasons to stay. Looking back, it was a real stupid thing to say, like pouring gasoline on a fire. But I w-was just so tired, tired of feeling like I was killing myself every day to be perfect and love him and getting so much pain thrown back at me. When we got home, he beat me. T-that wasn’t the bad part, that was par for the course. But then… he dragged me out onto our 11th story balcony. He picked me up and threatened to throw me off until I swore I’d never leave.”

She watched as his entire body stiffened, his fists clenching with anger. She wanted to offer him some assurance, something to ease the feelings that brewed but there was not really anything that could be said. That story and her life just were what they were, upsetting and enraging and all.

“He played God with my life for a few minutes, though it felt like an eternity, my body balancing on the railing like a rag doll with only him holding me there. There was one point, I tipped so far back, I actually thought he had let go and I s-saw my whole life flash before my eyes. I always thought people were being dramatic when they said that. But it’s true. Like a movie in fast forward and all I saw was every mistake that led me to that moment. When he was satisfied that I had begged for my life enough, he let me down and drug me back inside to finish the night. He knew I didn’t have much fight left in me after that,” she whispered, her hand wiping a tear. “Ugh,” she could not contain the groan of frustration at her own emotions. She hated that he still had this effect on her. “I don’t know why I’m crying over this o-old shit,” she shook her head. “He doesn’t deserve it. A-anyway, I decided that the next day that I had to leave or I’d d-die. I made a p-plan and left a week later.”

“I’m sorry, honeybee.” There were no other words he could offer, though those sounded inadequate in the space. With every story she told him, he felt like a layer of the complex onion that was her peeled back. “I should’ve killed him,” he muttered, more to himself than to her. And it was true. The fact that he still drew breath was enraging, another thing he felt guilty for. For not ending the monster that haunted her.

Charlotte reached over and grabbed his hand, their fingers interlocking. “Your soul is too good to be tainted by him. Besides, you did quite a number on him from what I heard. I didn’t know you had hands like that in real life, baby Creed,” she teased, thankful her joke caused a small smile to grace his features. “God, I wish I could’ve seen it… Saying that makes me feel like a terrible person,” her head fell into her hand, propped up against the back of the couch. “But j-just to see him, for once, feel a fraction of what I felt. Feels like a bit of justice for it all.”

“That doesn’t make you a terrible person. You’re far from a terrible person. If he dropped dead tomorrow, you would be justified if you threw a damn party. Hell, I would throw a party and I only met him once. You’re allowed to want justice for all of it.”

“Thanks.” She shifted, bringing her feet under her. “You know what’s crazy about it? I always regretted him… Regretted meeting him, agreeing to that first date, staying through all of that. B-but the last couple days, I’ve been thinking about my life right now… the last few months are the first time that I’ve felt like I was at home, like I know who I am and my soul is at peace. It’s pretty damn good. A little damaged around the edges, sure, but still so amazing that… If I had to go back and do it all again, I know in my soul I-I’d walk that same jagged path through all the pain, a-and landmines, and everything else if it was what I needed to do to end up here again, if it meant I would find home again.”

“And where’s home?” his voice was quiet as if he was worried the answer would not be what he expected, as if he were afraid to hear it.

Charlotte tilted her head to study him, her hand going to cup his cheek, the scruff of his beard tickling her palm.

“You.”

Waves of guilt crashed over him, causing a tear to fall. The first one he had shed since the hospital. Charlotte whisked it away with her thumb.

“Not feelin’ like I deserve that right now. You were in trouble and I didn’t even see it till it was too late. I never should’ve left you here. I couldn’t even keep you safe. What kinda fuckin’ home is that?”

The guilt in his voice broke her heart. She moved, slowly and stiffly, but moved to slide into his lap. Her hands rested on his shoulders as she looked at him.

“Look at me.” It was her turn to demand as he so often did, demand that he overcome the guilt and shame that forced his eyes away from hers. She knew it was difficult, had struggled to find his eyes too many times for fear she would see confirmation of her guilt, her shame, her unworthiness. But it was never there and he would not find that in her eyes today either.

“Every single time I’ve ever needed you, you were right on time. This was no exception. The truth is, you’ve been keeping me safe since the day I met you. I was so lost before I met you. I-I had healed my heart a-and my mind and my body as best I could. But my soul, I had vowed never to let someone so close to it again, had boarded it up with walls so high it would be impossible to let someone in again. To let someone see me again. And that was fuckin’ lonely,” she admitted. “A-and exhausting to force myself to keep my guards up like that, to deny everything I’d always wanted… a partner who saw me in my entirety and loved me for all of it. But I did it b-because it w-was better than the alternative. A-And then I met you. And you instantly knew the me I hid from everyone, you knew my soul and what it needed to finally mend. And you slowly but surely broke down every wall and barrier I had fought so hard to keep up so you could ensure I got what I needed, a safe place to land. And every day since, you’ve seen my soul in its entirety, all its light and darkness, its hopes and fears, its permanently damaged pieces and those that’ve healed. And you’ve loved me beyond my wildest dreams for it all. You are my peace and my solace and my safety every moment… that is the best home I could’ve ever hoped for.”

She wiped her tears that fell before offering. “He w-wanted me to deny t-that. Before he…” she lifted her own eyes to the ceiling as she re-lived that moment. “Told me it was him or no one, wanted me to tell him I would c-choose him. And I couldn’t. It’s insane,” she acknowledged. “And I knew you’d p-probably tell me just to lie to save myself. But I couldn’t deny what I’ve known to be true since we kissed in your apartment in Philly. You are it for me. You are my choice every day, every time, no matter.”

His lips crashed against hers, his arms wrapping around her tightly to pull her into his chest. Michael knew the depths of Charlotte’s love for him without a doubt. And he loved receiving a tear-inducing speech about it as much as he enjoyed doling them out on her. However, to know that, even in what could’ve been her last moments, she chose to love him loudly and unapologetically, hit his soul harder than he had ever experienced before.

No more words passed between them, each touch was a silent declaration of love between them that they did not have the words to capture. The day had laid them both bare in a way they had never experienced before or expected. And it was not their trauma guiding them, it was pure love. A desire and need to connect mind, body, and soul.

“You want… need me to stop?” He whispered as she sucked on the soft skin of his neck. In his heart, he knew the answer before the words left his mouth. He could tell in her movements that stopping would be near impossible this time. But he had to check, had to double check before they went down this road.

She immediately shook her head. Charlotte’s brain was mush, a complete fog of desire, need, and pleasure as she kissed every inch of exposed skin she could find. She had never yearned for a person as much as she yearned for the man beneath her. She wanted everything, all of him. She knew now, in hindsight, that the first night, she had wanted him for all the wrong reasons. And she was grateful that he, once again, saved her from herself. But now, in this moment, she wanted to feel him, feel his gentle touch and caress, and savor every moment of his love for her. And she wanted him to feel her, not her brokenness and fear, but the life pumping through her veins, the love she held for him, that he was her choice.

“No,” she whispered back, he was thankful to hear that word leave her lips. “Do you wanna stop?”

“Not this time.”

“Good.”

Michael immediately wrapped his hands behind her thighs and hoisted her up to carry her into their bedroom. She let him guide her to their bed, laying her down gently as he removed both of their clothes. Charlotte instinctively wanted to shrink up and cover herself, hyper aware of the bruises that littered her form.

Sensing her thoughts, Michael immediately leaned over her and started to press his lips to each one, gentle and lingering kisses on every cut, scrap, and bruise that sent jolts of electricity through her form. A silent but touching reminder that she survived and told her he did not care how they looked. He worked his way down her body slowly but this time it was not the usual teasing he liked to do. He simply wanted to savor every second of it.

He handled her with such care, as if she were perfectly sculpted glass that would shatter if he pushed too hard, too fast. She was not fragile, he knew that. She was strong and powerful. But her wounds were fresh. Fresh enough that he used every moment to assure her that his touch was different, would never hurt her as he had, and would never treat her body and soul with such pain and callousness. It had taken great restraint not to taste her or bury himself inside her the last few days, to be as close to her as he could, feel the life pumping in her veins. But she needed time and so did he, to reckon with what they both almost lost.

He could feel the frenzy beneath him as he worked, her body writhing with silent pleas that begged for more. But he did not want to rush. He remembered their first time, slow and measured as he took her apart piece by piece. He understood the impulse to rush but they had time, he kept reminding himself. Time with each other.

He returned to her lips, a quiet directive to slow down landing on her ears.

“Slow down, baby,” he muttered, “Slow down.” Their foreheads rested against each other as he forced her to take a breath.

“I need…” her words trailed off as she whimpered, her fingers twisted in the soft fabric of his t-shirt as if he’d turn to dust before her eyes if she let go of him. Her eyes searched his for understanding, that he knew exactly what she so desperately needed.

“I know, I know.” He pressed a kiss to her cheek, her head leaning into it to find his lips again. “Hey, hey. Look at me.” Their eyes connected, brimming with tears as she took in his undying love for her. “We’re both here, safe and sound, and no one’s going anywhere. I promise. Let me take care of you.”

At her nods, he resumed his touching until he found himself at the treasure trove between her thighs, her flower dripping and begging to be touched by the man she loved. And that was all he needed as he spread her legs and wrapped his lips around her bud.

Charlotte’s back immediately arched off the bed as he feasted on her. It had only been days but she had missed the feeling of his tongue on her and inside her. He spelled out his love for her in gentle caresses that made her head spin.

She melted against his mouth like chocolate, her cries of pleasure crescendoing with every movement of his skilled tongue.

“That’s it baby, let me hear you.” He slid two fingers inside of her, increasing the sensations that already threatened to overwhelm her.

Charlotte felt as if her body was in overdrive. Her hips rocked to meet every thrust of his hand, her thighs clamped around his head as he feasted on her. It did not matter how many times his mouth found its way to her core, he managed to reduce her to a mewling puddle begging for more, every time.

And usually, she let him stay between her thighs as long as he wanted, pulling out as many climaxes as he could. But this time, she needed more. She knew he wanted to take his time, take her apart and put her back together. But she could not wait. Her soul could not wait. She needed to feel him inside her. So much had been taken from her, so much had left her feeling empty in this life until Michael. Michael filled her up where her past and present trauma only drained her. And right now, she wanted to be filled. The emptiness ached and she wanted to be filled to the brim and overflow.

She pulled him from between her thighs, bringing his lips to hers. She relished in the taste of herself but only for a moment before she whispered.

“I need you. Inside me. I c-can’t… can’t wait,” she panted. “W-we have all night b-but I need to feel you now.”

He acquiesced, the vulnerability in her voice more than enough to forgo his original plan.

He kept her eyes on his as he thrust inside of her slowly. Charlotte moaned at the delicious stretch he always provided. Months, it had been months since she first felt that stretch and it still caused a gasp to escape her lips, her eyes to see stars, and every thought in her head to shatter.

“J-Just like that,” she whimpered, all her senses squarely focused on him and the pleasure he graciously provided. All she could feel was the sparks of bliss at the end of every stroke and the trail of fire that marked where his hands roamed as he explored her body. All she could hear were the symphony of their moans, his deep grunts as he fucked her and her screams of pleasure. All she could see were his brown eyes, a look in them that made her own eyes mist with tears. She did not know why she was crying, whether it be from the intense pleasure or the look in his eye, a look that no man before him had ever given her, a look she would have never deemed herself worthy of. The look of pure love and adoration.

Michael’s hips drove into her over, a primal growl escaping him as her muscles clenched around him repeatedly as he curved into her g-spot, their bodies made for each other. His eyes never left hers with every push forward and retreat.

As he pulled out every trick he could think of to please her, pour his love into her, Michael could not help but think about how he almost lost this. How he almost lost her. He had plans for this insanely beautiful woman beneath… plans to grow old with her, to celebrate every milestone and moment of his life and hers together, to build a life and family with her. And all of it could’ve been gone. He had never experienced this before, a year ago he could not even convince Charlotte to go out on a date with him but now? He could not fathom his life without her. And that brief moment where he had to consider such a life… it had shattered him in ways he never knew a person could be shattered.

“I love you,” his voice shook as tears sprang to his eyes. “Fuck, I love you so much.”

“I-I l-love… you,” she moaned back, her words choppy and broken between her pants and moans.

His mind drifted to the ring that he kept stashed in his bedside table, hidden in a box he knew Charlotte would never bother to open or examine closely. A ring he had started to design the day after that gala, the night she told him about her ex and decided to overcome her fears to choose him.

He knew she did not believe him when he said he had known he wanted to marry her since then. It sounded far-fetched, he recognized, to know that so early. Afterall, his friends called him foolish for designing and buying a ring for a woman who rejected him mere months prior. “Take your time,” they had all cautioned. “Make sure she is what you want.” But Charlotte was the one thing, the only thing, in this universe that he did not need time to consider, that he knew without a shadow of a doubt that he wanted. And he used this moment, every second spent in her sanctuary to show her how deeply his love for her ran, past his mind, past his heart. He loved her with every fiber of his soul.

“You know how beautiful you are?” He asked as he draped her legs over his shoulder and leaned over to rest his forehead against hers. Charlotte gasped at the angle, he had not changed his pace one bit but this position allowed him to reach the depths of her pleasure center. Those tears she had kept in now spilled over as his words filled her heart and he filled her body with every stroke. That ache of emptiness? Gone. She was overflowing. “Do you know how much… I love you?”

She cried out, unable to form real words or thoughts beyond obscenities and his name, which flowed without thought from her lips.

“I’ll spend every day of my life loving you, keeping you safe. There’s nothing in this world I won’t do for you, Els. Nothing. ” His word was punctuated by a particularly deep thrust that turned Charlotte into a babbling mess as she came. “That’s it, baby. Cum for me.”

“More. Harder. Everything you have, please,” her voice was strained, trying to speak while her body calmed down again. She understood his gentleness, appreciated it. But now, she wanted to feel him in the depths of her bones. She was his and she wanted to feel that in every ounce of her being.

Michael helped her flip over onto her stomach, this time instructing her to hold onto the headboard so she did not have to lay on the bed. He allowed her a moment to situate herself in the position he so enjoyed. He still practiced some restraint, refusing to unleash his usual power onto her still healing body. But he loosened the reins just enough to give her what she wanted and needed.

There was nothing slow about how he rammed into her, her body thrusting forward with every delicious slam of his hips into hers. She was thankful he thought of the headboard, giving her the leverage laying face down on the bed would not have and protecting her bruises.

“Yes! Y-Yes! T-thank you,” she moaned out as he fucked her with abandon. She surrendered to the pleasure, her screams bouncing off the walls as he made her cum again and again and again.

He took her in any and every position that would not cause her pain. He buried his face between her legs and feasted off of her before plunging into her again, Charlotte allowing her body to be at his mercy. They had all night and all the time in the world and she wanted him to use every moment of it.

***

When Charlotte stirred again, she glanced over to find Michael sound asleep next to her. It was still dark outside, the clock reading 4:30 am. She laid there for a few moments, letting the soft sounds of Michael’s soft snores fill her ears. She turned and watched him for a few moments, the steady rise and fall of his chest. As she listened to him, the final part of a song she had been writing swelled in her heart. And when the pen called her, she did not dare ignore it. As quietly as she could, she climbed out of their bed and wrapped herself in her robe.

She tiptoed out of their room and into the living room, grabbing her pen and notebook before retreating to the balcony of their apartment. She had rarely been out here, her own fear of them and the frigid New York winters keeping her from enjoying this one feature of their home. But tonight, not even her past or the cold chill could send her back inside. She curled up in a blanket in one of the chairs as she listened to the bustling sounds of the city fill her ears.

It did not matter what time of day it was, New York City was always awake, always moving, always alive. Her lungs breathed in as much of the frigid air as they could before she breathed it back out. She knew she could not stay out there too long, it was freezing. But she also knew this was the only spot her singing would not wake up her sleeping boyfriend.

Baby, the sound of you

Better than a harmony

I want you off my mind

And on me

Holding me closer than we've ever been before

This ain't a dream

You're here with me

Boy, it don't get no better than you

For you, I wanna take my time

All night

She closed her eyes, curled in a small ball, as her siren song filled the night sky though she knew no one but her and God would ever hear it. But that was fine, she preferred it. This was just for her, just for her to commemorate the love she found and was grateful to God for.

I wanna love you in every kind of way

I wanna please you, no matter how long it takes

If the world should end tomorrow and we only have today

I'm gonna love you in every kind of way

Give you all, give you all of me

Her eyes only opened at the faint creaks of a door, surprised to find Michael standing in the doorway of the balcony as she finished the last line. However, as she started to stand and finish singing, he shook his head.

“Don’t stop. I wanna hear you.”

And so she continued, this time, her eyes on his as she finished her song, the second verse she had been struggling with flowing from her lips as if it had lived in her heart all along.

When you need it

'Cause I need it

I wanna fall like your favorite season

I'll never get up

Stay here forever, babe

It don't get no better than this

Your kiss

I wanna love you in every kind of way

I wanna please you, no matter how long it takes

If the world should end tomorrow and we only have today

I'm gonna love you in every kind of way

I wanna love you in every kind of way

I wanna please you, no matter how long it takes

If the world should end tomorrow and we only have today

I'm gonna love you in every kind of way

When she was finished, she sat up in the chair and glanced at him.

“I’m sorry, thought going out here wouldn’t wake you.”

He shook his head. “Bed’s cold without you, went looking for you and heard your voice. Wanted to hear you.”

She smiled. “I’m glad you heard it… it was about you anyway,” she winked. “Back to bed?”

“Umm… before we g-go,” he stammered slightly, Charlotte surprised to find a nervous energy suddenly surrounding him. He was usually so confident and assured, nervous was a rare emotion on him. “I have something for you.” He meandered to the balcony railing, standing directly in front of her before he pulled out the arm that he had bent behind his back, a small black velvet box in his hand.

“You didn’t need to get me anything,” she offered with a small smile. If he had not been so nervous, he would have laughed at how she missed the obvious. The size of the box really only lent itself to one thing and she had not picked up on it yet. “Though I’m sure it’s beautiful.”

He slid the box into her hand, Charlotte expecting to find a necklace or pair of earrings or something small nestled in the luxury box. However, all the wind seemed to knock out of her as she opened to find a sparkling and mesmerizing engagement ring, a giant pear shaped diamond set in the center with elegant but subtle diamonds nestled in the rose gold band around it. It was simple and yet, the most gorgeous ring she had ever seen in her life.

She glanced up from the box to find Michael in front of her on one knee. Every question that rose to her lips immediately vanished, caught in her throat as shock swept all of her senses. Her heart was beating so hard, she wondered if it was possible for it to beat straight out of her chest.

“A-are you serious? I-If this is j-just a dream…” she whispered, her eyes moving to the sky as if she was talking to God.

“N-No, this is real. Charlotte, I’ve loved you since the moment I laid eyes on you. Every day, you love me with your whole being. You support my dreams, however far fetched and foolish they may seem, you push me to be the best man I can be. Not just for you and my family but for myself. With you, I’ve always been right at home. Falling in love with you is both the greatest decision of my life and the easiest one I’ve ever made. And every day, I thank God for bringing you and your beauty, your laugh, your spirit into my life. I don’t know what the future looks like, I don’t know how much time we have with each other. But I know that I want to spend every moment of my life loving you and being loved by you. So, this is me being sentimental and making you break down in tears,” he joked to their earlier conversations. “Charlotte Elsbeth Bennet, will you marry me?”

Charlotte’s breathing was choppy as she took in his words. Tears flowed earnestly as she tried to form a sentence.

“M-Michael… God I love you so much. B-But are you s-sure about this? I k-know with everything that’s happened… W-we haven’t even been together for a year. Are you s-sure I’m what you want?”

“I’ve had this ring for months… I started designing it the day after the gala last summer. I was waiting for the perfect moment, wanting to plan the perfect proposal for you back in LA. But what happened reminded me that I don’t want to waste our time planning perfect or ideal moments. I just want to live in all those moments with you, by my side. All day, something kept pulling me to this ring, telling me that this was our moment. And I think it’s because our best moments, the realest ones for us, are just us… being us, comfortable and safe with each other. No planning, no overthinking, no obsessing. Just being home with each other. So here I am, unsure about so much, the future and where this life will take me and us. But this moment,” his hand rubbed her knee, her face covered by both her hands as she quietly cried. “This decision is the surest I’ve ever been in my life. I am sure about you. I’ve never been so certain that you were the woman for me. Marry me.”

Charlotte immediately launched herself from her seat and into his arms, the small box still wrapped tightly in her hand as she held him.

“I love you so much,” she whispered before kissing him, her body resting on his bent knee.

“I love you too…” he paused, realizing he never actually heard the magic word. “So is that a yes… or?”

She let out a watery laugh. “A million times, yes! Yes, yes, yes!” The box fell in her lap as she cupped his face in her hands. “ Now you’re really stuck with me, Mr. Jordan.” she teased as her hands wiped the tears that flowed earnestly from her eyes.

He took the box from her and slid the ring on her finger, his heart swelling at how she admired the piece. She was not much of a jewelry wearer so he went for a ring that was simple, one she would not mind wearing every day, but was worthy of her hand.

He wiped a tear from his eye and chuckled. “Good, that’s what I was hoping for. Mrs. Jordan has a nice ring to it.” He pressed his lips to her ring finger. His deep baritone filled the cold air as he let out an excited yell, standing and spinning Charlotte around. “Wanna go to the courthouse tomorrow?”

“Slow downnnnn. Another surprise this week might actually kill me,” she laughed. “Anndddd I wanna be my usual flawless self for our wedding photos,” she gestured toward her bruised face.

“You’re always flawless to me.”

“Alright I already said yes, don’t lay it on so thick,” she offered in jest, causing him to pepper her face with kisses.

“Well how about I take you back to bed and warm you up and I can make you say yes a couple more times?”

She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively, “I think I’d rather you make me scream it.”

“Oh that was always the plan.”

And before she knew it, Michael had her on her back, their hands interlaced on the pillow as he made her scream that beautiful word over and over again until the sun came up.

Tag List: @certifiedlesbianbaddie @bangtanxmegan @reelwriter19 @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @hi888888sworld @msniaimani @destinio1 @lynaye1993 @chaoticevilbakugo @blackerthings @pipsqueak-98 @miyuhpapayuh @passionxwrites @gopaperless @injerafiend

A/N: Our babiesssssss!! I went back and forth on the proposal scene for a while lol and this just felt right so I hope you all enjoyed it! Every Kind of Way by HER is one of my favorite songs. This is not the end of our story buttttt we are getting close. Just three or four more chapters to go.

Drop a comment and let me know what you think/let me know if you want to be tagged!

#black writers #michael b jordan #michael b jordan x oc #mbjordanedit #michael b jordan x reader #creed 3 #black panther #michael b jordan fanfic #adonis creed #creed iii #mbj fanfic #mbjedit #michael b jordan smut

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killslumflower · 2 years ago

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I’m sorry, I love my man I swear but this took me right on OUTTTT 🤣

confessions (Michael b. Jordan x black!reader)

#michael b jordan x reader #michael b jordan #smut #freaky #funny #lmao what #mbj #mbj meme #fan fiction #coming soon

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vivaalenaa · 1 month ago

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Heyyy guysssss so I’m currently in the process of writing a terry/aaron fic and it’s gonna be called “Give Me a Show” it will INDEED be smut so 18+!!!!!!!! MINORS DNI!!!! and yeahhhh🤭 this is also going to be my first fic on here so please be kind🙏🏾🙏🏾. But I’m open to constructive criticism 💋💋.

#aaron pierre #terry richmond #terry richmond smut #first fic #i also want to create a taglist so please any can comment and let me know if you want to be added!!#reblog #terry fics #MBJ fics

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thunderandsage · 2 years ago

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don’t know what this is, but don’t tell me that shang qinghua didn’t write it—

#it’s either crack or smut i think #both which are in line with airplane #please somebody who has read this book explain it to me #svsss #scum villain’s self saving system #shang qinghua #mobei jun #sqh #mbj #airplane shooting towards the sky #moshang #?

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bed-chemist · 1 year ago

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all-american bitch ★ libby's cabinet

Kendall Pearson

Vanessa Hermès

Meredith Rockefeller

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hanlengjun · 1 year ago

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14 and 20!

that relationship meme 14. what traits does your muse want to avoid when it comes to choosing a romantic partner?

I might've touched on this topic in another meme but Mobei Jun absolutely cannot tolerate disloyalty. I'm not really talking about "I am yours, and you are mine and no one else's" (ok its a little about that too) but mbj needs to be able to trust his partner with his very life, if there's no trust then there's no love. As far as physical appearances go there's nothing he tries to avoid. His partner could tower over him and he'd be okay with it so long as he can trust.

20. how does your muse feel about public displays of affection? would they engage in them?

CACKLES.

Mobei Jun is not shy by any means, he's shameless and greedy too. Demons are physical creatures by nature, and mbj is very very physical lover. Little pat to the butt? Kiss to the cheek? Hugs? Blatant tongue in his partners mouth? He'd do it all in a public space and more. Much much more.

#darkenforcer #❅ meme response #notice the extra emphasis on more #mbj would smut in public if his partner lets him

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waitineedaname · 22 days ago

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do any femmes follow me. can you guys help me come up with mobei-jun's outfit

#i need to figure out what she's wearing so i can take it off of her #even if you have no familiarity with scum villain..... help me #the vibe i am going for with fem!mobei-jun is like. terrifying. femme. built like a tank. rich as hell.#I'm attempting to write a smut addition to the wlw moshang i posted #but unfortunately my personal style is lazy butch. which is great for deciding what shang qinghua is wearing #but less great for coming up with mbj's outfits #but unfortunately if im taking mbj's clothes off i have to know what she's wearing in the first place #like. is this an unbuttoning situation. or a pulling over the head situation. are we unzipping her jeans or pushing up a skirt.#i guess i could skip ahead to when she's already naked but i want to savor this

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starcrossedxwriter · 1 year ago

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Built for Love Part 8 (MBJ x Famous Black OC)

A/N: Ummm this chapter has a little bit of everything... Family, fluff, a bit of smut, slight angst. It also has a time jump because we gotta keep shit movingggg. And I could write 100 chapters of fluff with these two butttt we're here for the drama! lol Also another gif that has nothing to do with anything LOL But I imagine this is what our girl wakes up to every day and I love that for her

Warnings: brief mentions of DV

“So Charlie, are you excited to be back on the stage?” Michael’s mom asked as they settled around Michael’s dining room table for dinner.

Though it was a small affair, the table was weighed down by Donna’s decadent and delicious cooking, his mom cooking both he and Charlotte’s favorites for their goodbye dinner. Once his father had said grace, initial conversations had given way to the sounds of forks and spoons clinking against china as everyone passed dishes and savored Donna’s cooking. Though Michael’s family was used to it, Charlotte’s were too busy stuffing their faces to be much conversationalists.

Her face had been drawn up in a bright smile since her brother, Lauren, and Jazz arrived. The tone around the table was a bittersweet one, joy for Charlotte and this opportunity everyone knew she deserved and needed, but melancholy at having two staples of their respective communities gone, even if it was only a temporary absence.

Between the press tour and preparing to leave, the time had flown by and the move that once seemed so far away was hurtling toward them like a high speed train. Charlotte still found herself shocked that Michael was willing to move with her. As the date inched closer and closer, she half expected him to find an excuse not to accompany her. But that never materialized. Instead, he took it upon himself to do all of the planning. Time to find an apartment? Already done and vetted by Michael. Furnish the place? Interior decorator was already on it with images of both of their homes to capture their respective styles. All day, every day, he sent her restaurants and places he wanted to try, some Charlotte had been to and some she hadn’t, or asked her about her favorite spots to add to the list. His excitement was contagious, which counteracted the stress, dread, and anxiety Charlotte felt. For him, this was just the first of many adventures with the woman he loved. For her, it was returning home after running away. And that was never easy.

“Yea I really am. It’ll be an adjustment for sure. Next two months’ll be crazy. But I… really missed it. I’m coming in a few weeks behind in rehearsals but it’ll be good to be back.”

Michael’s hand, which had rested on her thigh since they sat down, squeezed gently to reassure her, soothing her anxiety.

“Only on the choreo. This girl could perform the show and songs forward and backwards right now if she wanted.”

Charlotte smiled. “He might be right about that. But the choreo is the harder part for me anyway.”

“Yea the girl was born with every talent but rhythm,” Jackson called down the table causing everyone to laugh, Charlotte leaning behind Michael’s chair to flip him off without everyone seeing.

“He never gives her credit. Charlie is a great dancer,” Lauren chimed in, not allowing her husband to joke at her best friend’s expense. “Remember the spring production of Oklahoma our freshman year??”

Charlotte groaned. “Ugh don’t remind me! Some of the worst weeks of my life.”

“What happened?” Michael asked.

“There was a nasty norovirus going around campus and Charlie, one of the only freshmen in Juilliard history to play the coveted lead of a spring production, caught it the second day of rehearsals. Was out for two weeks. The director planned on bumping up her understudy.”

“A senior who despised me and was probably hoping the virus would kill me,” she laughed. “Director said there was noooooo way I could learn the staging and choreo in the two remaining weeks before opening night,” Charlotte interjected, rolling her eyes. “He was just worried he took a chance on a freshman only for her to crash and burn.”

“Since I was dancing in the production, I could record rehearsals. Charlotte watched every rehearsal, learning every move, lyric, and note while she was sick. Sis showed up once she was cleared by the doctor and you wouldn’t have even known she missed two weeks of rehearsals. She looked and sounded better than some folks who’d been to every rehearsal.”

“Messed up one or two steps,” she admitted. “But nothing that couldn’t be fixed in the time we had left.”

“How’d you manage that?”

She shrugged. “I just rehearsed and slept in between trips to the bathroom,” she laughed. “My doctor thought I was completely insane but as they say, ‘the show must go on.’”

“Will you have enough tickets for us all to come to opening night or do we need to come at a different time?” Jackson asked.

“I definitely can get everyone tickets for previews, those start mid February. Not sure how many I can snag for opening night though.”

“What are previews?” Michael’s dad asked.

“Oh, sort of a test run? Just an opportunity to perform the show to audiences before the official opening night. Gives you a chance to work out issues and fix things before critics review it. The show ran off-Broadway first so our previews are only a couple weeks. So we have a month and a half of true rehearsals and then previews and then the show premieres March 1.”

“And how long are you all gonna be there again?”

“In total? 8 months I guess with rehearsals? I only signed on to be on the cast for six months though… March to September.”

“Knowing you, you’ll extend it,” Jackson offered with a knowing smile.

Charlotte shook her head. “I dunno. Chris would love that. But doing 8 shows a week for six months is a lot. And gets old after a while,” she admitted. “Maybe I’d do a different show, but I'll probably come back here. I promised Chris six months so that’s all I’m committing to.”

Everyone nodded in understanding, the conversation drifting away from Charlie and to separate topics. Charlie glanced around the table, a soft content smile on her face as she watched the two groups interact. It was not just each family chatting off to themselves. Lauren and Michael’s mom and sister were deep in a conversation about the struggles of parenting young children; Michael’s brother and Jackson were arguing about the Lakers vs the Clippers; and Jazz and Michael were deeply enthralled in a story told by Michael Sr. And everyone seemed genuinely happy to be there and interact. This was their first time truly combining the groups but she thought it boded well for when they all met the rest of her immediate family on the East Coast. If Jazz, Lauren, and Jackson liked them and fit in, the rest of her family would too.

As dinner winded down, Charlotte stood up from the table to bring out dessert. Michael offered a soft peck to the inside of her wrist, which she returned with one to the top of his head, before she grabbed his plate to take into the kitchen. She hummed to herself as she loaded the dishwasher and pulled out the cake his mom prepared earlier that day. It was Michael’s favorite, her rum cake. Charlie could not deny it was one of the best cakes she had ever tasted, hers included.

As she moved the cake to the island, she lost her balance on her heels, almost falling. She was able to sit the cake down quickly, it wobbled slightly in its glass case but remained unharmed despite her clumsiness.

“There you go, tripping over air,” she cursed herself, annoyed and thankful she had not destroyed his mother’s cake. As she moved the holder on the island, a wave of deja vu hit her, a vision of a cake and cake holder smashing to the ground filling her brain. She paused, studying the glass cake stand, her stiletto-shaped nails gliding over it gently. Just as quickly as it appeared, it vanished, the memory too foggy and distant to make sense of. During most of her deja-vu moments or flashbacks, the memories hit her like she was being forced in front of a movie screen. But as much as she racked her brain, she couldn't think of anything related to this moment.

“You ok, dear?” Donna’s soft voice interrupted Charlotte as she zoomed through the Rolodex of memories in her mind.

“Hm? Oh yea, I’m ok,” Charlotte answered, glancing up. she noticed the plates in the woman’s hands before abandoning her thoughts and grabbing them from her. “Let me get those.”

“Thank you, dear. Your family is lovely. They fit right in,” Donna offered as she moved to grab a knife and small plates for dessert.

Charlotte smiled, “Thanks. I’m excited for all of you to meet the rest of them. Everyone else is fairly tame in comparison,” she joked.

As she loaded their dishwasher, she glanced at his mom.

“This was all delicious, thank you. Thank God he picked up your cooking skills or else we’d starve in New York.”

The older woman laughed. “Well anytime you want to learn, you let me know. Though I think you’d give me a run for my money with those desserts of yours.”

Charlotte could not help but beam a bit at her compliment.

Charlotte dried her hands on a dish towel, anxiously twisting the soft fabric in her hands and chewing on her lip as she watched his mom.

“I hope you don’t mind…” she started, pausing as the older woman looked at her with confusion. “M-Me stealing him away for a while. I’m honestly still a bit surprised he wanted to do this at all. But I know it’s probably hard when he’s gone for a long time. I feel kinda bad?” She admitted quietly. “I know he’s gonna miss you guys so much.” She stared at the wall that blocked Michael and everyone at the table from their vision, her face falling a bit as she felt the guilt of pulling him away from his family and community in LA. Even though he offered, she could not help but question whether she should have accepted it, accepted taking him away from his family like this.

“If I may?” Donna’s hands wrapped around Charlotte’s, halting her anxious movements and towel twisting. “I know it hasn’t been that long but I’ve never seen my son as happy as he is with you. One thing you should never doubt is how much that man in there adores you. I dare say he would try to move a mountain if he thought it’d bring you joy. You should never feel bad for accepting the manifestations of his love and commitment. Because I dare say, this is just the beginning.”

Charlotte felt a tear start to fall, not from sadness but from the love, grace, and compassion his mother always showed her. From the moment they first met to today, she never acted like those dreaded mother-in-laws her married friends moaned about. Charlotte’s mother would not be considered a constant presence in her life, a rarity at best. And through everything she had been through, the one thing she had always hoped for but never had was a mom. Michael’s mom did not know about her mom’s absence but she seemed to recognize it was something Charlie still needed, a mother’s love, support, grace, and word of wisdom. And she offered it in droves.

“T-thank you,” she whispered, whisking the tears away just as Michael rounded the corner to check on them.

“Hey, you two alright?”

“Yes of course, baby.” Her face immediately brightened as he entered the room, not even just to hide her and his mom’s emotional moment but just from his presence. “Just hounding your mom for this amazing rum cake recipe so I can make it for you in New York…”

“But… I told her she’s gotta be officially in the family first for me to share it. So get to it,” she whispered to Bakari with a sly smile and a peck on the cheek as she returned to the dining room with the rest of the family.

“Damn, she’s not subtle at all, is she?” he asked as he grabbed the cake while Charlotte grabbed the plates his mom pulled out.

Charlotte laughed, patting him on the chest as she passed him to return to the dining room. “No, definitely not.”

***

Their moans created an orchestra filling his bedroom as Michael kept Charlotte’s eyes trained on his as he fucked her slow and deep.

They rarely had sex in missionary these days, both of them finding other positions far more interesting and fun. However, when they were both in the mood for something slower and more sensual, missionary hit the spot for both of them. It offered them something deeper than pure pleasure. It was an intimacy and comfort they both needed for their last night in Michael’s bed for a while.

Looking into each other’s eyes was a meeting of the minds, beyond merely connecting with their bodies, they connected with their souls. They saw all of each other, all of the excitement, anxiety, joy, and fear of what tomorrow would hold for them. And every moment, every movement and touch between them was an effort to honor those feelings. Every touch and whispered adoration told the other that they were here and they were ready for everything the universe had in store for them.

There would be time for fast and wild later. Tonight, they were just cherishing the moment and each other before their first real adventure as a couple began.

“J-Just li-like that. F-Fuck, I-I love you,” she moaned, having already lost count of her orgasms as Michael pushed her to the edge of another one.

She could tell he was close as he picked up the pace a bit. Her hips rocked slightly to meet his, her core pulsing and tightening around him causing a primitive moan to escape him.

It only took a moment for him to fill her before he rolled off of her.

“You good?” He asked, a question he usually asked when they finished up, whether the session was slow and sensual or had her doing acrobatics. And the answer was always in the same vein: she was more than good.

“Excellent. I could fall asleep j-just like this,” she yawned, knowing that her sleep after sex was always elite, Michael tiring her out to the point where she could not do much else. However, before she did, she got up to go to the bathroom, Michael talking to her as she groped her way through the darkness of his room.

“You ready for tomorrow?” He asked as he found his briefs to slide on and climb back into bed.

“As ready as I’ll ever be, I guess,” she called back. “You sure you still wanna come? Not too late to back out. Well, we signed a lease, on a way too expensive apartment, I might add… so it’s a bit late. But you could still do it.”

Though her tone had the intent of a joke, Michael could still hear it, her hesitation and fear that let him know she was still concerned he would abandon her. He knew she would not truly believe him until they were moved in and settled but he was genuinely excited to go with her. Not just to support her and provide her with some sense of safety while she was there, but to witness this next stage in her career. This was her dream and he saw no better use of his time than watching her fulfill it. He knew why she was hesitant, they had only been dating for mere months. However, when he looked at Charlotte, he saw a perfect glittering gold path to a future he had never given much thought to because he had always been too focused on the hustle, a marriage and a family like the one his parents had built. To him, this was one step down that path and he would never regret taking it. Part of him was annoyed he would have to return to LA in June for another project before her time in New York ended but he decided he would savor the initial six months of uninterrupted time together.

“You ain’t gettin’ rid of me that easy, honey bee. And after living with me in New York, maybe that’ll convince you to move in with me when we get back?” He asked as she washed her hands.

She poked her head out into the room to look at him, finding that his face matched the seriousness of his tone and words.

“What? Y-You want me to move in? Here?”

He continued to surprise her with his level of commitment and dedication overall. However, just as she was about to doubt he truly meant it, his mother’s words floated back to her mind.

"Well, it wouldn't be here forever. Just till we found a new spot… something that's ours," he emphasized. “We’re gonna live together for at least 6 months in New York… if it works out and you don’t absolutely hate me by the end,” he joked, “Why not? What? You don’t think we should?"

She shrugged as she climbed back into his bed. “No, no, I’m not saying that at all. I mean I basically live here as it is,” she admitted. “I g-guess I just didn’t think about what living together in New York would mean for when we got back? Of course, you thought of it though. You think ahead and have a plan for everything.”

Michael was glad she could not see his face as she settled against his chest. She truly had no idea how far ahead his planning went when it came to her.

“Well, I just know what I want and I don’t believe in wasting time. But I’m not sayin’ you gotta decide now or anything. Let’s see how New York goes. I just wanted to see if you’d be interested in it.”

“Yea, I’m interested.”

He nodded. “Now are you gonna tell me what you and my momma were talking about earlier? You looked upset?”

Charlotte chuckled, she turned over so her chest was against his, her ear pressed against his chest. The light thumps of his heart filled her ear like a soothing drumbeat. “I should’ve known you weren’t gonna let that go… I wasn’t upset. She j-just said something I needed to hear.”

She felt his lips press against the top of her head, her eyes falling closed for a moment. She appreciated that he did not press any further for information.

“Yea, I don't know how she does that. It's kinda creepy, honestly… that mother's intuition."

“Yea, its like she sees into your soul or something." Her last words turned into a mumble as she yawned and her eyes fell closed.

All Michael could do was chuckle before kissing her forehead and falling asleep himself, her gentle snores filling his ears.

***

Charlotte glanced out of the floor-to-ceiling window of their new apartment on the edge of the Upper West Side. It was as beautiful and pristine as the pictures Michael had shown her. They were high enough to have a great view of the city from their balcony. It was in the perfect location too for work and there was so much around for her and Michael to do. The furnishings were perfect, the exact mix of her and Michael’s individual interior style. She knew he hired a designer but it was clear the person knew their shit. The house already felt warm, cozy, and safe, all the things Charlotte needed, and they had only been in it for an hour.

“What are you thinking?” He asked from the couch as he scrolled through his phone, both of them avoiding the dreaded unpacking they had to do.

“I’m thinking about my crappy little studio apartment when I first graduated… and my two bedroom with one of my college friends for those few months…” she paused, that apartment was a graveyard of bad memories. “Before I moved. I’ve j-just come up in the world, I guess.”

Bakari beckoned her to him, the young woman leaving her perch against the window to join him. The moment she was in arm’s length, he gently pulled her down onto his lap, Charlotte nestling into him with ease.

“This place is insane, Bakari. I mean I love it but I still think it’s too much,” she remarked, she raised her hands as if to surrender, knowing she was bringing up a touchy subject for them both.

“Aht aht. We came to an agreement on that,” he lightly kissed her bare shoulder.

She nodded, neither of them wanting to fall back into their first true argument of their relationship a few months earlier.

“So what do you think?”

Charlotte laughed. “I think I could fit 5 or 6 of my first apartment in that place,” she gestured toward his laptop as he flipped through photos of a high-rise three-bedroom apartment. “I mean it’s gorgeous but I don’t think I can afford it.”

“Yea but I can. It’s perfect. Really solid security, there’s only one apartment on each floor so it’s pretty private. And it's only 15 minutes from the theaters so when you finish up evening shows, it’s not a long drive. It’s perfect for us. Don’t think about the cost. Do you like it?”

“Yes, I love it but,” she chuckled. “Creed was my first real check in two years, babe. And I still gotta pay for my apartment here. I don’t really have the luxury of not thinking about the cost of things.”

“Ok but I’m sayin’ you don’t have to think about it cause I got it.”

“Well how much do you want me to contribute a month? If we go 50/50, it would be tight but I could swing it then, I guess.”

Michael rolled his eyes. “ I wasn’t expecting you to contribute anything. We ain’t roommates, Els.”

She shook her head, pushing off of the couch to pace in his living room, her annoyance officially rising. Finances continued to be a touchy subject for the pair. However, usually, Charlotte only put up so much of a fight before she gave in. But she could not give in on this, not today.

“It’s one thing for you to always pay for dinners and shit like that but you can’t pay all of our rent while we’re there. That’s ridiculous.”

“Why can’t I?” He asked, his tone signaling that he did not understand the seriousness of the conversation for Charlotte in the slightest. He still did not quite understand her hang up with finances. He knew it was part of the cycle of abuse but he had no problem spending money on her if need be. She had only just stopped fighting him on paying for dates. Though he was not the type of celebrity who blew all of his money on frivolous things, Michael also did not pretend money was a significant consideration in his decisions because it just wasn’t. And he would never apologize for wanting to spend his money on her, for wanting to support her.

“B-Because I…” Charlotte stopped herself from finishing the sentence, Don’t want you to be able to control me that way. But she knew that was not his way.“T-then it’s y-your house a-and not mine. I-I would just feel more comfortable i-if you let me contribute something. L-Let me pay for half? Besides, you’re gonna be in LA sometimes, full time in the summer. You shouldn’t pay the full amount every month like you’re gonna be there the whole time.”

“It’s really not that big of a deal, Charlotte. I don’t need your money and I don’t want it.” His tone signaled that he hoped to get the final word in and end the discussion.

She could not help but feel frustrated like he was not hearing her. But she understood why he did not see this situation through her eyes. “I-It’s not about you n-needing it!” She cried out, Michael suddenly realizing her unexpected outburst meant more simmered beneath the surface than her just wanting to contribute. She took a deep breath, not wanting to start an argument with him. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. It’s just…”

He rubbed her shoulders and nodded, “Ok just breath for a second, babe. I’m sorry, I didn’t realize it would bother you this much. I just.. I wanted you to have a serene, safe place to live and work while you’re there a-and I wasn’t gonna ask you to pay because money wasn’t a factor when I chose it. I just want you to be comfortable while we’re there.”

She sighed and rubbed her forehead. She knew she shouldn’t push him on the finances piece so much. But she refused to ever let a man hold her livelihood over her head again. Where she laid her head was important and even though she stayed at Michael’s most of the time, she could at least retreat to her home if she ever needed it. She did not want the only place she had to lay her head to be not in her control at all.

“Look, I-I appreciate it. That place is beautiful a-and perfect. I love it, truly. But… t-this is the first time I’m living with a guy since Shaun a-and the a-amount of times he held t-the fact that it w-was his h-house instead of mine o-over me…” she exhaled deeply as if she could release the memories into the air with her breath. “I-If I d-don’t contribute something then it’ll be your house and not ours. I k-know you don’t need it o-or want it. But I need it. I need it to feel like I have an equal claim to it. Please.”

At that, Michael decided not to push any further. He understood her triggers were real and legitimate and if it gave her a sense of autonomy and control to pay him, he would not let his ego get in the way of that.

“Understood. I’m sorry,” he kissed her cheek. “I didn’t think about that. This’ll be our home and I want you to feel like it. How about you deal with all the utilities and I get the rent?”

She could not help but laugh a bit at his “compromise.” “Those things aren’t comparable at all, babe,” she muttered.

“Monetarily? Nah. But what’s the point of an apartment without lights, wifi, gas, water?” he listed. “All of those are necessities too and without them, this would be a pretty terrible apartment.”

They squared off for a moment before she nodded, realizing he budged about as far as he was willing to on the subject.

“Deal.”

“We came to an agreement, yes. But don’t think for a second I like it. Anytime you wanna accept that 50/50 split, let me know.”

Michael gave her a peck on the nose.

“Not gonna happen. Let me treat you to this one thing, baby. But what could happen is us christening some of this furniture?” His eyebrow raised suggestively, his intentions clear in his words.

Charlotte smiled slyly. “I like the sound of that… if we start with the counter.”

***

“Charlotte. Baby. Stop eating your breakfast like it’s a drive by. Sit, relax, and eat. You got plenty of time. Don’t have to be there for another hour.”

Charlotte nearly catapulted out of bed that morning, a wrecking ball of nervous energy flitting around their apartment. Michael did not know how she was moving so quickly and chaotically, since all she did was toss and turn the night before. And as soon as the Sun was up, she was out of bed and out on a run through the neighborhood. And when she returned, their bed quickly turned into a wreckage of clothes, the young woman changing her outfit no less than 10 times.

“Did you get any sleep last night?” Michael asked as Charlotte forced herself to sit at the island and eat Michael’s apple cinnamon pancakes, her favorite, and a couple pieces of bacon. Though this was her favorite breakfast meal, she found it difficult to eat, believing her time would be better served practicing or running her lines again rather than just sitting there.

She scratched her head as she stuffed her face quickly, her eyes zooming across her sheet music. “Couple hours. Lots of tossing and turning before I just gave up and reviewed the music again.”

Michael laughed, “You know every song by heart, even the ones that aren’t yours. You’re gonna be great today.”

She shrugged. “I don’t feel like it.” She glanced at her watch and bit her lip before abandoning her half eaten breakfast. “Thanks for this, Bakari, but I think I should go practice the songs one more time. The run in the Act I closer is fuckin’ killing me. I can’t get it just right a-and if Chris has us practice that part today, I don’t want to look stupid.” She paused her ranting to practice the chorus and run right there as she paced by the counter. She sounded flawless in Michael’s opinion but he could tell she hated it the way her whole face scrunched up in frustration. “See? Can’t get it. But you know… maybe I should practice my ballad first though… it would make sense he’d want to start there since it’s earlier in the show. Do I have time to do both…” She was no longer talking to Michael, only rambling and muttering to herself as her questions about which song to use her precious last few minutes to practice started to become inter spliced with actual lyrics from the songs as she studied the music while she walked through their home. “Babe! Have you seen my script?? Maybe I should run through all my lines for Act 1?” She checked her watch. “I s-should’ve used the time last night to do that. UGH.”

Her incoherent stream of consciousness and half singing were interrupted by Michael who put himself in the path of Hurricane Charlotte and their bedroom. Her favorite room to practice in was the bathroom because the acoustics were the best in the house. Imagine his confusion and slight amusement when, the first thing she did when they arrived after throwing her bags down, she started singing her ballad in every single room to test the sound quality before deciding the bathroom was the best option.

It had not been 24 hours yet and he already learned one critical thing about her: she was a perfectionist chaotic nutcase. He had never seen this “behind the scenes” look into her process and work ethic. When they worked on Creed, she showed up to set every day the picture of an actor, in the zone, focused, and ready to work. He had never seen what it took to get to that picture and it was a perfect frenzy that he could not hope to understand or follow if he tried.

And still, he found that her perfectionist nature that drove all the practice and ramblings only made him fall deeper in love with her. He imagined this is what he looked like to his friends and family when he was prepping for a role, so much energy and time spent to become someone else and embody their souls and personas. So much attention to detail and time rehearsing to give each moment in front of the camera your all. This was so much like that, and yet so much harder because Charlotte could not just yell cut to redo something. Every night she got on that stage, she had one opportunity to show her talent at its fullest. He could completely understand why she pushed herself as hard as she did.

“Honeybee… you gotta calm down. No more practicing,�� he grabbed the sheet music out of her hand, Charlotte offering mild protests as he walked to her bag and slid them inside, secretly adding a little card of his own. “You still have weeks of rehearsals. Keep doing this and you’ll lose your voice,” he warned, his lips twitching from the laugh he forced himself to stifle at the look of objective horror on her face, as if she had never even considered that was a possibility. But he imagined for her, losing her voice was the worst type of illness she could have. “Exactly. Rest the vocals for a bit. Sit, finish your breakfast and we’ll drive to the theater together.”

With his hands on her hips, he steered her back to the island for the third time that morning and watched her sit down to resume eating, this time far slower and more measured.

“You don’t gotta take me like a child headed to kindergarten for the first day, dad,” she bemused with a soft smile. “I’ll be good.”

“I know I don’t have to, but I want to.”

She nodded, talk of Michael’s plans for the day filled the rest of breakfast before she grabbed her bag, filled with her script, sheet music, and mid-day snack. Michael had to stop her from triple checking her bag before he slid a perfectly made chai in her hands and ushered her out the door.

He kept his hand on hers as their driver took them the short ride to Abernathy Theater. She had not told Michael but she had performed in this very theater in her very first Broadway production out of college. It felt like a full circle moment to be back there.

“Ok, this is it, babe. You got this,” he kissed her on the lips. “Can’t wait to hear all about it tonight.”

“Thanks, love. See you tonight.” She took a deep breath before gathering her things and exiting the car.

Charlotte glanced back at the black car before she opened the theater door, the window rolled down, to find Michael giving her a thumbs up as if he knew she would need an extra push to walk through the door. She knew her nerves were somewhat foolish. She had spent the better part of her life in theaters and on the stage. And yet, she still felt like a fish outta water. So much time had passed, so much life had happened. Chris thought she still had what it took but would everyone else? She had given up this dream. And though she had never admitted this out loud, she felt so much shame for how easily she had casted it aside and resigned to leaving it to die behind her. As she walked through the theater, her first time in one in over two years, she questioned whether she even deserved this second chance at it after she had squandered the first one, regardless of her reasoning for doing so.

But now as she walked through the theater, taking in the opulence of the insanely tall ceilings and their perfectly preserved murals, the dazzling gold arches and trims, and the sea of ruby-colored seats, she knew one fact to be true. No one and nothing would tear her away from this dream this time. She had breathed new life into it and she would not lose it again.

“Charlotte!”

Her visual survey was interrupted by Chris who waved at her from the stage. She smiled and made quick work of making her way to the stage where he waited.

“It’s so good to see you,” he mused, pulling her into a tight hug. “The rest of the cast is trickling in. But I wanted to show you around personally and introduce you to everyone. I’ll take you backstage.”

He looped his arm around hers and led her backstage, the two laughing and chatting like old friends as he took her around and introduced her to everyone. He was showing her her dressing room when a familiar man’s voice filled her ears.

“The prodigal daughter of Broadway returns… You know I took bets on when you’d be back.”

Charlotte whipped around to find Malcolm Roberts, one of her costars, leaning against the doorway, his usual sly smirk etched on his face.

She sauntered up to him, a similar smirk falling on her face. “And? Is the Tony award winning Malcolm Roberts poorer or richer these days?”

“Richer…” At her surprised expression, he shrugged. “I learned a long time ago to always bet on you.”

She laughed and immediately pulled him into a tight hug, the man lifting her feet slightly off the ground.

“It’s so good to see you. I owe you dinner so you can catch me up on everything,” he said as they hugged. “You look amazing, still as gorgeous as ever.”

Malcolm had been in her last production before she moved. She followed his career after leaving theater and his star had only risen higher and higher, as he deserved. And now, he would be playing directly alongside her and she couldn’t have been more pleased. If there was one person she trusted undoubtedly to act alongside, besides Michael, it would be Malcolm.

“Thank you! Should’ve known Chris would call in the heavyweight champ,” she laughed.

He merely shrugged. “A friend calls and I answer. That's how he got you outta hibernation too?” He asked as they walked to the practice room for rehearsal, their banter drowned out by the hustle and bustle of the team as they worked to build the set and gathered props around them.

“Naturally. One day you’ll have to tell us how you convince everyone to do whatever you want?” Charlotte told Chris who merely smiled slyly.

“Win me another Tony and I’ll tell all my secrets.”

The two actors glanced at each other and rolled their eyes. “As if you need anymore!”

“Does your house even have room for another one and that big head of yours?” Malcolm teased as Charlotte snorted.

“Well, my partner says I can’t convert the kids’ room to a trophy room. So I guess when you two are done sweeping, I’ll have to buy a new house.” He winked at the both of them before grabbing his assistant director to chat, leaving Malcolm and Charlotte alone.

“How was the move?” He asked as he interlaced his arm with Charlotte’s as they walked.

“Oh totally fine. Michael took care of everything, of course. All I did was say yes or no.”

“Ah yes, the new boyfriend, aka my wife and sister’s celebrity crush. Remind me never to invite the two of you over for dinner?” Charlotte let out a deep belly laugh. “But I’m glad to hear it. Looks like you found yourself a good one?”

“Yea… I think I did.”

She raised her eyebrow as he stopped walking to study her for a moment, his face drawn up in a look of pride and something else she could not place. Understanding? Knowing? She could not read it. However, before she could ask him, he merely patted her hand, which rested on his arm and said, “Well no one deserves that more than you.”

Before she could inquire more, they arrived at their rehearsal space, each of them settling into their spots. Chris did quick work of introducing Charlotte to everyone else who she hadn’t met and embarrassing her with his praise. She was thankful when it was all over and everyone started to pull out their scripts and sheet music to run through Act I.

As she pulled out her materials, a small card fell out of the stack and onto the table. She picked it up and examined the card, Honey Bee written out on the front in Michael’s handwriting. She half listened to Chris share notes and information from the last rehearsal as she slid the stationary out of its envelope.

I would say good luck but I know you don’t need it. You’re gonna kill it, as you always do, and remind everyone there today and in this world, who you are. Take a deep breath and remember you, not only deserve this moment but, you were made for it.

Love,

Your biggest fan

If she had not been in a room filled with people, she would have bursted into tears. She slid the note back in her bag after reading it once more and taking the deep breath he instructed her to. She grabbed her phone as the cast started the table read and sent a quick but simple text.

Thank you ♥️♥️

She knew she did not need to elaborate and that he would recognize the meaning. Not a whole minute passed before her phone buzzed with a similar simplistic response.

Anytime.

***

A month later

“Oof, that’s it. That’s the right spot,” Charlotte moaned as Michael massaged her aching limbs. “You got the magic touch, baby.” Her eyes lulled closed as he did the Lord’s work, kneading and massaging the tense spots on her legs and back after another long day of rehearsals. "First show is in two days and I can barely feel my legs.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying it.” He placed a soft kiss to the top of her spine before continuing his work.

Though Charlotte did not mind the quiet, the silence that settled over them both as he worked, she found it odd. Most evenings, she and Michael never stopped talking, the pair catching the other up on any and everything from the moment she walked into the door until the moment they fell asleep. However, today, Michael’s head seemed to be elsewhere.

“You ok?” She inquired.

“Y-Yea, yea. I’m good.”

She laughed. “I know you well enough to know when you’re good, Bakari. What’s wrong?” She gestured for him to move so she could sit up. She slid her robe over her nude body and slid into his lap.

“I just had an interesting call with Ryan today.”

“Oh? Got another project for you?”

“Actually, yea.”

She motioned for more details, unsure why he was being so coy and secretive. “Ok… you gotta give me more than that, babe. What’s the role? And why are you acting like he threatened to kill you?”

“It’s a Marvel project.”

Her eyes immediately grew wide. She gracefully tumbled out of his lap and onto her knees, excitement filling her previously lethargic body. While she had only just started to get into anime thanks to Michael, both of them bonded over their love for comics. Growing up with her brother, she and Jackson spent far too much time in the comic book store and she made a point to see every Marvel movie that came out.

“It’s Black Panther, isn’t it??” She squealed, her excitement radiating off of her.

“How’d you guess that so fast??”

She scoffed and smiled. “Marvel’s been talking to Black directors for months for that project. A-and Civil War is coming out soon with Chadwick. Ohh,” she shook his shoulders. “You HAVE to do it, baby.”

He laughed, getting up to go into their in-suite bathroom. “You don’t even know what the role is, love.”

She shrugged, following behind him with an extra pep in her step. She did not understand how he wasn’t more excited about this.

“I mean I could sit here and go through all the Black Panther comic lore if you’d like and guess. But that’ll just make you horny,” she teased, knowing Michael got a little too excited when she put on her nerdy hat and talked comics. “And my legs hurt too much for acrobatics with you today. Why aren’t you excited? You said yes, right?? He wouldn’t’ve called unless the role was yours.”

He pushed himself up to sit on the bathroom counter. “I want to say yes, the role is fantastic a-and his vision is spectacular. I s-spent the whole day reading up on the character and everything. It would be a game changer for sure.”

“Of course it would. But I sense a but coming?” Her hands inched up his warm bare chest and wrapped around his neck as she stood between his legs.

“I’d have to go back to LA for a couple days to screen test with Chad and a couple of the other confirmed actors, meet with the execs… and between Kevin Feige’s schedule, Ryan’s and Chadwick’s… only one week before like June works for everyone.”

At the annoyed and guilty look on his face, Charlotte immediately understood. “Opening weekend of the show?” She prayed she was wrong but at the small nod, she let out a disgruntled sigh.

“Yea. A-and I don’t want to miss that, Els. It’s such a big deal and I moved here to be all in on us and support you. I asked Ryan if we could find a different date or if we could do something out here instead but I dunno yet. I didn’t want to mention it because I didn’t want to disappoint you if it’s not a sure thing.”

“Babe. I so appreciate you and that you even thought to consider me and the show before saying yes. But you can’t put your career on hold for me. This is the MCU, babe, I would miss opening night of my own show for Kevin Feige. You have to go.”

Michael’s jaw almost unhinged at her statement. That was not what he was expecting at all. And when he searched her face for a hint of disappointment or sadness, he failed to find any. Her joy for him was natural and authentic, not the forced type people give when they are trying to hide their own emotions.

“What??”

“I’m joking,” she amended but she quickly shook her head. “Actually I’m not. I would totally ditch schmoozing investors and the nausea of waiting for reviews for Marvel,” she laughed. “Seriously though, I’m gonna be doing 8 shows a week for months. You’ll see me on stage so many times, you’ll get sick of my voice and the show. You don’t have to be there opening night to support me. Honestly, I’d rather have you there the first night of previews in a couple days so you can see me on stage for the first time anyway. Opening night is only a big deal in that critics can finally review the show. And there’s a party for the cast and producers and investors and all that shit. You moved across the country to support me. That’s all I need.”

She walked back into their bedroom and grabbed his phone, her slippers shuffling lightly against the floor as she went.. She held it out to him. “Call Ryan.”

“Babe… I just don’t feel right abandoning you on such a big night.”

She tilted her head to study him. She found that she was not just saying those words because she knew she should not stop him from pursuing an opportunity. She actually meant it. Now that she was back in the swing of things, her anxiety had eased quite a bit. It had only been a few weeks but she had not seen or heard a peep out of Shaun, her promo for the show being reduced to one mention in a Broadway.com article, thankfully. And she knew she would have to handle a few days here and there without him before they got there. It was still early so she was still beyond thankful to have him there, but she could survive a couple days without him if he was needed elsewhere.

“You aren’t abandoning me. You’re following your dreams, you’re moving your career forward. Ryan picked you, the role is yours. Meeting with the execs and a couple screen tests are the only hurdles you gotta clear. And you shouldn't put that off. Would I love to look out into that crowd and see you opening night, sure. But would I prefer to see you snag a killer role in what is already a highly anticipated project, 100%. I know you’ll be there in spirit.”

“You sure you aren’t gonna secretly hate me?”

“I could never hate you. Besides, shit like this is gonna happen… we’re both two busy body ass actors. We aren’t always gonna be able to be there physically but I know you’ll be cheering me on as I will for you.”

His phone still hovered in her hand between them, Charlotte giving him an cocky grin before unlocking it and finding Ryan’s number for him.

“You sure?”

“I’m giving you the push you gave me. Call him and tell him he’s got his Killmonger. Hopefully he doesn’t bust your fuckin’ ear drums like Chris did mine.”

His eyes grew wide. “How’d you do that shit?? I never even said his name.”

She chuckled as she turned to walk back into their room, her shoulders shrugged. “It was a lucky guess… that you just confirmed,” she smirked at him. “Now…” she sexily allowed her robe to open and slide off her shoulders, the silk fabric pooling to the floor around her feet. “Don’t stay on the phone with him too long.”

He raised an eyebrow suggestively, his thumb hovering over the call button. “I thought you were too tired?”

She shrugged. “Consider it the last bit of encouragement you need to make that call.” She winked at him before sauntering off to their bed, delighting in the way his eyes followed her perfect ass as she climbed onto their bed.

***

“Well, I think that part could use a bit more emotion from both of us?” Charlotte remarked as she and Malcolm reviewed their notes from earlier in the day.

The stage was filled with chaos as many in the company practiced off to one side while the staging and lighting folks tried to get everything ready for their last rehearsal before previews started the next evening. Rebecca and Jonathan, the supporting actors in the play, were tucked in a corner just like Malcolm and Charlotte reviewing their lines.

“For sure. We shouldn’t hold back. They haven’t seen or spoken to each other in years. All that pent up aggression and anger and hurt… it really should feel like something is simmering beneath the surface and then an explosion on stage before the number.”

Before Charlotte could agree with him and practice a bit more, Chris’s voice grabbed their attention.

“Heads up, everyone! So don’t hate me. But a lot of the investors can’t make previews tomorrow night but they want a peek before opening night so they asked if they could sit in on rehearsal after the producers’ meeting happening upstairs. Should be wrapping up in about 15 minutes. So we will have a small but mighty,” he emphasized, “Audience today. So everyone should give this their all and we’re gonna do it in our costumes. Go get changed. Sorry for the change of plans.”

Light mumbles and grumbles could be heard through the company as everyone filed back into their dressing rooms. Charlotte and Malcolm merely shared a smirk, the actor whispering to Charlotte, “The investors and producers say jump…”

“And we say ‘how high?” she grimaced with an eye roll before shutting the door to her dressing room. This was the only part of her job she hated, schmoozing people whose only credentials for being there was the hefty check they wrote. Charlotte’s outfit was quick work, a simple dress, cardigan, and heels so it did not take long for her to change.

She sang a few chords to herself, warming up her voice, while she waited for the backstage cue to return to the wings of the stage. When the lights flashed, she made her way to the wings, stopping by Malcolm who had his face drawn up in a grimace. She was thankful to find another actor who also hated the politics of it all. She followed his line of sight to the parted curtains, revealing center stage where Chris stood with a group of men in suits. They quickly reminded her of all of the men she met at Shaun's office parties and events, her distaste had not changed. Most of their backs were turned to them until Chris noticed the entire company was assembled and waiting and waved them over.

“Let the jumping begin,” Malcolm moaned lightly as they all started walking toward the group of powerful and wealthy men.

“And these are the stars of our show, Charlotte Bennett, Malcolm Roberts, Rebecca Sloan, and Jonathan Rivers,” Chris gestured toward all of them, the group turning around to greet them.

However, the bright smile that Charlotte put on as she pulled on her dazzling actress persona immediately fell as her eyes locked with one of the men. Her movements halted, her entire body going cold and rigid as if someone had thrown a bucket of ice water on her.

Everything around her went silent as if someone had pressed the mute button, she could not even hear her pounding heart in her ears. But she could feel it, beating against her rib cage as it threatened to burst out of her chest. She forgot where she was, who she was, as he offered her a menacing and knowing smirk.

Instinctively, she took a step back, increasing the distance between them as the rest of the cast continued forward to introduce themselves. Only one person noticed her change in demeanor, her low, shallow breaths that were drowned out by pleasantries and greetings.

Malcolm touched her shoulder, Charlotte almost jumping out of her skin with shock, finally taking her eyes off of a man she never expected to see here of all places, in her safe space.

“You good? Look like you saw a ghost,” he chuckled nervously, though his eyes were filled with concern.

Her mouth felt bone dry, the words caught in her throat but she forced them out anyway.

“No, no. Not a g-ghost. J-just…” she shook her head. “I… um, just need a minute? Tell C-Chris I’m r-running to the b-bathroom. N-not feeling great.”

She turned and rushed out of the theater, her legs carrying her as fast as they could without breaking into an all out run until she found herself near a concession stand in the deserted lobby. She needed as much distance as she could between herself and him. She stopped and leaned against the counter, her hand pressed into her chest as she tried to calm herself. She wondered if she would have rather seen an actual ghost. That would have been less terrifying than what awaited her back in that theater, a different monster haunting her from her past.

Shaun Parker.

***

A/N: So good news… we got some fluff!! Bad news… some niggas we don't like have found their way back. Thanks for reading! *drops this off and runs away*

#black writers #michael b jordan #michael b jordan x oc #mbjordanedit #michael b jordan x reader #creed 3 #black panther #adonis creed #michael b jordan fanfic #creed iii #michael b jordan smut #mbj fanfic #mbjedit

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mamaclownhunter · 2 months ago

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As a writer- I am turning SQH in my head like a rotisserie chicken.

He has a golden core but his spiritual presence is very weak (this makes for great spy work as he can move undetected)

He has a very short temper but fucking has killer customer service

This man can fucking multitask he has machinations on schemes on tasks and he is fucking good

While SQ has a better handle on the lore SQH made the world- idk if you ever world built before but even if you can’t pull it out of the top of your head it is there and I have a really fucking funny idea that like some times SQH BS’ stuff like he will be like “idk there is probably a “purple dragon fang” flower that like- makes you wanna bite people in this area- and sure enough there is bc SQH thought of it and it is his world.

SQH fucking knows his people- so funny he forgets demon cultures but that is what SQ is for (I love LBH pointing out MBJ’s crush but LBH was raised by human and goes to humans for advise on flirting with SQ so I don’t think he instinctively knows Demon’s courting rules- but MR I know fucking all the lore and how demons flirt bc that was Sha Hualing’s plot device to introduce Meng mo and also wife 20-29# Erica- plus he is a gossip monger- he knows all the details and knows MBJ is married to SQH and he is such an asshole he only tells LBH so he can keep getting updates for his husband to see)

LBH is the hero- but SQH is the creator. While he can’t beat LBH through brute force he has the ability to get around the plot armor. After all- all stories need the hero to be beat every once in a while! He can’t outright kill LBH but he does know all weaknesses and limits. That is his son

While the human realm (outside his disciples who are much more cut throat now bc of him) doesn’t really see the appeal of- demons are fucking intimidated by the King of the North’s consort. SQH made a fucking name for himself ordering demons, being untouchable outside consort SQ. But he is nasty and fierce and since they are demons SQH doesn’t feel as bad lashing out (not physically)

SQH knows his characters too. Mostly canon but I love that idea that to an outsider SQH knowing your name before anyone tells him is a red flag he has his invisible fingers in your pie- no one knows how he is so successful ofc (weak core) but no if he really knows someone by face it is bc he spent a week screaming in a pillow coming up with a voice and thought process.

The world of PIDW/SV is a complex beautiful world- per SY SQH is fucking talented but he had to eat- the man can tell and weave a story like a champion if put on the spot, he could be a DM. But SQH is very cautious bc he doesn’t know if he can accidentally make stuff

He doesn’t write much anymore which sucks bc that is a huge comping mechanism and reliever before it became his biggest stresser

That being said when he does realize he is a queen and has some time off- he writes again. For himself. For Mobei, never for SY but he gets copies all the same. But since he isn’t worried about food or money any more… he writes what he wants and lets that talent flow. He is annoyed the RPF is still popular smut but SQH had insane complex beautiful mysteries and fascinating war.

He brought up ripping off Harry Potter but make it gay and no fucking golden snitch. SQ fans himself and says “knowing you it will be done in three days I will be happy to read.”

He still writes shitting porn even after he loses his v card.

But his other works are inspired and SQ is furious he could have had this as a story and not PIDW how DARE YOU

sQH refuses to write anything for the PIDW/Sv world. All his books take place somewhere else- in the “future”- fantasy- just not in this world so he doesn’t add more to their crazy world

I have more but I am so tired

#moshang #cumplane #svsss #shang qinghua #grand master airplane #airplane bro #scum villian self saving system #GIVE ME

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fenixfoxtrot510 · 11 hours ago

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The first time Mobei Jun read Shang Qinghua's smut was an accident.

A council member was extremely annoying and would not shut up during court, and MBJ shot a look at his hamster like, "Give me an excuse to end this meeting now, or I kill him."

SQH immediately jumped up, not willing to lose one of the less treasonous members of the council, and shoved the papers in front of him to his king.

"Sorry to interrupt My King, but this issue requires immediate attention!"

Snatching the papers, MBJ glances over them, barks out a furious "Leave!" To everyone else in the room.

Then, he continues reading as the room clears out.

SQH remembers then that he was writing smut in court and goes down on his knees, grabing his Kings robes, begging and apologizing.

SQH freezes when MBJ turns on him and asks if he's written any more erotica.

SQH thinks he's gonna die for writing smut during work.

MBJ is horny and wants to learn all of his human's kinks from his writing so he can provide him the perfect wedding night.

Their first time was a disaster because MBJ was trying to imitate SQH's horribly unrealistic porn.

#svss #mxtx svsss #moshang #shang qinghua #mobei jun

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theereina · 1 month ago

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My first Erik "Killmonger" fic is coming sooner than you think. The title tells it all.🤭

*I don't know what's going on, but the pen is penning.

Thee Masterlist

Aaron Pierre

~Terry Richmond

🦋Big Mama (series) => 1 | 2 | 3 | 4

😢Bad News (series) => 1 | 2

Michael B. Jordan

~Erik Killmonger

📚Buy her books, and eat her pussy (one shot) *coming soon*

#michael b jordan #michael b. jordan #erik killmonger #fanfiction #fanfic #killmonger fanfiction #erik stevens #killmonger smut #mbj

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bed-chemist · 1 year ago

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❝BGC❞

A/N: unedited so ignore any mistakes. i hope yall enjoy. ★ ˙ᵕ˙ liv

─⋆♡ chapter summary: the president’s daughter chooses her cabinet, attends the state dinner, and goes to the club for the first time.

─⋆♡ main tropes: Michael B. Jordan x Fem!OC, Rome Flynn x Fem!OC, Damson Idris x Fem!OC. Bodyguard x Princess, Secret Service x First Kid, forced proximity, forbidden love, tolerated enemies to lovers, college romance.

─⋆♡ chapter warnings: angst, 18+ black!writer, language, fighting, threatening, choking, physical descriptors (brief), characters affected by symptoms of anxiety or depression.

series masterlist ✰ faceclaims ✰ libby’s cabinet ✰ spotify playlist

⋆ word count: 6.1k ⋆

I always disliked government meals.

The poking and prodding to get proper before standing in front of thousands of cameras is bearable. But attempting not to have any unsavory photographs released by the morning is the hard part.

Jo sits across from me on the floor with nothing but a coffee table separating us. My mother has her cabinet and I need mine. Pictures of senators and billionaire's daughters are scattered on the tabletop.

Although I want to surround myself with a diverse group of girls, there are a few powerful players who already run this town. Of the players, 3 in particular hold the key.

My finger points toward the blonde girl. “What do the Rockefellers have hands in?” I ask Jo.

Jo slides and twists the picture so it’s facing me perfectly landscape. “Everything, Libby. Literally everything. This girl is the most important person in your group,” she urges, shoving the picture closer to me.

The photo paper under my fingertips feels strange and I want to drop the material like a hot potato. “I thought I was the most important person in the group,” I complain. I’m not really concerned with status. I’d much rather fade into oblivion after my mom's term, not continue in this type of spotlight. But I’m unsure how this girl is more important than me.

“Her family makes your mom look like chump change. Now your mom with the support of the Rockefellers? That would be something,” Jo ponders aloud.

I stare at her picture, having a quick resolve over my feelings. Maybe she’s nice. “So kiss Meredith Rockefeller’s ass. Got it,” I repeat to Jo.

“What about her?” I ask, pointing to Vanessa Hermès’ headshot.

Jo softly chuckles. “Heard she was a bitch. Just be careful,” she warns me.

“Okay and her?” I move on to the final girl.

She stands from the floor, dusting herself off. “The Pearsons are loaded. Her father was one of the first people to invest in Elon Musk’s projects. Her mom was the mistress but she’s his only child. He’s up on cap hill of course,” she finishes.

I gnaw on my lip, taking time to process the information. “Interesting. What time are they coming?” I ask.

She slides her heels back on, adding some extra height to her short stature. “You’ll have afternoon tea at 1,” she sighs.

Michael abandons his book, extending his hand for me to grab. I accept it, standing from the floor. He allows me to use his support to slide on my heels and I don’t miss him squeezing my hands tightly to ensure I don’t fall. “That’s all?” I start on the next topic.

Jo reaches for the door handle but right before her fingers touch the gold, she abandons it and turns around. Fuck, I almost made it. “Actually, tonight you’re meeting Charles Armstrong Jones, Viscount Linley,” she breaks the news.

I release Michael’s hands, stepping around his now tense body. Any time my potential social life is mentioned, he gets all soldier boy. But I don’t have time to address his traits right now. “No, I’m not,” I quip.

Jo crosses her arms. “You are,” she repeats.

“Am not,” I taunt like a child.

Jo raises her eyebrows and I know she’s caught onto my little game. “You are. If you’re going on a date with anyone in the next four years, it’ll be an eligible bachelor that the white house has already approved.”

I roll my eyes, grabbing a glass of water for the table. “Fine,” I groan.

“Prince Achileas-Andreas of Greece and Denmark will be there as well,” Jo continues as I take a sip of water.

And he will be my Achilles I’m sure. “Louis Spencer, Theodore Arnault, Patrick Finnegan,” I hear Jo cut through my spiral of thoughts.

I set the glass back down on the coffee table. “Oh wait, that’s a normal name. Who’s that?” I ask.

“He’s been fundraising for Obama since he was 11. Started his own company. He’s worth 18 million,” she expands. Every word she says sounds enticing. If there’s anyone I’d have something in common with, it’d be him.

I nod, looking up towards the ceiling as if the request for alone time with this man will come from there. “Hmm,” I mutter.

Jo clears her throat and my eyes snap towards her. She’s standing behind Michael, whose knuckles have turned white from gripping them so tightly. “Move him to the top of the pile?” asks and I know my face has given my subconscious thoughts away.

I scratch my neck with discomfort. If I can’t have the hottest man I know, I deserve to have something equivalent. “Yeah,” I answer quietly.

“Okay, did you want anything before lunch?” asks and I can practically see her itching to leave the room.

I shake my head, waving her off. “No, I’m fine. I’m thinking of just a stroll for lunch instead of eating. The tea will have food anyway,” I explain.

She puts her hands up, spinning around. “Okay. Call if you need something. I’ll come get you when it’s time,” she finishes, reaching for the door handle.

“Thank you,” I say to her as she exits, walking over to my closet to suit up.

I swiftly take the heavy winter coat off the rack, fumbling trying to pull it onto my frame. I almost give up and grab another coat when I feel a tug on the edges. Michael holds the top open, allowing me to slide in my arm successfully on the other side. “Thanks,” I murmur, fixing the top of the garment to lay smoothly on my shoulders.

“You're welcome,” he responds before I watch him turn around and leave the room. My focus returns to getting fully dressed for the chilly weather outside and I reach for the gloves at the top of the closet.

I’ve never noticed my short stature until moments like this. Who the fuck would put gloves this far back for someone who’s 5’4? My grunting reverberates off the wood in front of me until I eventually give up out of frustration.

I almost jump into the air when I feel the heat of a body behind me. I watch as an arm extends above my head and successfully grabs the leather accessories I’ve been dying to get my hands on. The hand retreats and when I turn around, Michael is standing there with the gloves held up by his face.

I reach for them and he snatches them back, just out of reach. I want to smack that simultaneous smack that stupid smirk off his face and ride his tongue until he suffocates. Fuck off, horny brain. “I’m not jumping for it,” I flirt, crossing my arms.

“I didn’t ask you to,” he counters, putting his hand out palm up. “May I?” he asks for consent for what feels like a grade school level of intimacy.

I nod, putting my hands in front of me. His fingers pull the straps of the velcro back and the noise that comes from it makes my ears tingle. “You fucked the strap up yesterday. Your mom would kill me if you got pneumonia,” he scolds.

But I know that my mom has nothing to do with it. I hate him. I hate him for showing me he has a heart, for showing me he cares about me, for being perfect and just in reach but unobtainable.

“Thank you,” I allow him to slip the soft fabric over my knuckles, tightly pulling the velcro around the cuff.

My body subconsciously leans closer to him as he moves onto my other hand. His brooding personality causes a polarity of thought in my brain. How can someone be so magnetic but such a cunt at the same time? “Good?” he questions.

I swallow thicky, batting my lashes at him. “Yeah,” I declare.

He drops my hands, stepping to the side. “After you, my lady,” he puts his arm out in an ushering manner.

“Stop calling me that,” I call over my shoulder as we walk out of the living area and into the hall. I jokingly tip my hat at the random secret service guard at my door who immediately whispers something into his earpiece.

My feet spin around and I walk backward, looking at Michael. “Do you hear everything in that thing?” I ask, pointing at his identical earpiece attached to what I assume is a radio under his jacket.

“Yes,” he deadpans and I roll my eyes. Always so serious.

Accepting his answer, I turn around to make the descent down the steps. Why they keep the first family in the attic is beyond me.

When we reach the bottom floor, I hop down off the bottom step dramatically. The feeling of my hair flying up gives me butterflies in my stomach. My brother creepily comes around the corner, making an appearance with his green coat shrugged on. “Where ya goin’?” he interrogates me.

I stop dead in my tracks, looking around to see if we have any tour visitors before I bitch him out in the hall. “To mind my own business. Where are you going?” I quip.

Agent Flynn snickers behind him and I send him a small wave. “Trying to find some business to mind,” my brother grumbles, stepping past me.

He doesn't give me a chance to respond before jogging up the steps with Agent Flynn. TGIF.

Michael stands behind me in the green room. The clock on the wall reads 12:55pm and I sigh, staring at the tempting sandwiches in front of me. I didn’t have lunch, opting for a run to clear my brain instead.

“You alright?” I hear Michael ask.

No, I’m not alright. You showed me you might be capable of feeling human emotion, making it much harder to hate you. “Fine,” I huff when the door opens.

I slide the chair back slightly, standing from the table and smoothing out my dress. I’m typically not this nervous, but I need this to go off without a hitch. Killing two birds with one stone by having good friends who are already in the spotlight is the smoothest this situation could go.

A woman who reminds me of Jennifer Walters walks in first dressed in a suit before a group of girls file in behind her. I see the blonde girl first, a bright smile on her face. “Oh my gosh, you’re so pretty in person! I’m Mer,” she greets me.

Her demeanor makes me feel at ease. No wonder her family has their hands in everything. They’re so goddamn charismatic. I return the smile, extending my hand for her to shake. “Nice to meet you. I’m Libby,” I say.

She pulls me closer before opening her arms. I give her a puzzled look as she waits for… something. “Oh, I’m a hugger,” she explains, pulling me into her embrace.

I reciprocate the action so Michael doesn’t put a bullet through her forehead, even though I hate hugs. “Oh okay,” I mumble.

When she releases me, another girl steps in front of me. “Hi, I’m Kendall,” she introduces herself.

I shake her outstretched hand, admiring how put together she looks. “Hi. I love your shoes,” I compliment, looking down at the pink shoes. They’re similar to mine, except they have a pretty silk bow adorning the back.

Damn, I thought my Manolo Blahnik’s were doing something. Her Saint Laurent pumps are triple mine. “Thanks. I love your outfit,” she cheers.

A short brunette girl steps in front of me with a horsedrawn carriage logo printed nearly on everything she’s wearing. “Vanessa Hermes,” she states.

I awkwardly outstretch my hand. “Liberty Washington,” I lightly mock her. I mean, come on; the stick up her ass is making my brain itch.

She doesn’t reciprocate so I awkwardly lower my hand. Instead, she looks behind me. “And who’s he?” she asks.

I turn around, walking toward the table with the girls. “Oh, that’s Agent Jordan. My secret service detail,” I say nonchalantly to the group.

“Well Agent Jordan, meet Alex and Daniel” Meredith points to the two individuals standing in the corner. “Daniel is Vanessa’s, Alex’s is mine,” she expands.

“We’ve met,” Alex extends her hand for Michael to shake and I thank the gods above that he does. I’m starting to think they didn’t test his social ability when matching him with me.

Once pleasantries are exchanged, the girls start to sit down at the table. When I go to pull out my chair, Michael stops me. I’ve learned that he’s insisted on consistent chilverly and I wonder where he got it from.

Michael takes his familiar spot on the wall for all my meals, still directly behind me and in earshot, but not so much so that he feels intrusive.

Kendall leans closer across the table, reaching for a finger sandwich. “I thought Daniel was hot but Agent Jordan is smoking. Where did you find him?” she asks, eyes flickering back and forth between the cold demon behind me and my angelic eyes.

I shrug, trying to think of an appropriate way to explain this situation. “I didn’t. He kind of found me,” I respond.

My hand picks up my glass of lemonade, washing down a sweet but dry cookie. “And you’re hitting that right?” Meredith asks.

I nearly choke on the contents in my mouth. “What? N-no. I’m-i’m not allowed and neither is he,” I stammer.

“But he’s allowed to have relationships?” Vanessa presses. She’s the last person I want to give any information about my potential crush on Michael. She seems like the type of bitch to take it and use it against it at a later date.

I nod, feeling Michael staring a hole through my skull. “I assume so just not one like that with me,” I stipulate.

Vanessa’s knife scrapes against the plate while she cuts an impossible tiny sandwich. “Great, he’s open game,” she cross-examines, almost as if she’s waiting for me to slip.

My eyes survey her as she sticks the fork in the cut sandwich square, sticking it in her mouth. If Michael wants a girl that eats a sandwich with a fork then be my guest. “Have at it. I prefer men with beating hearts,” I suggest since we’re polar opposites. Selfishly, I know going for her would solidify he doesn’t want me.

Meredith’s eyebrows raise. “So you are hooking up with someone. Do tell,” she pressed.

I nearly choke on my drink. “No. Outside of the administration is playing matchmaker, I’m not seeing anyone,” I clarify.

The silence that falls over the table is deafening. The women stare blankly at me and I feel like I’m missing out on Washington’s best-kept secret. “Ahhhh,” Vanessa sighs.

My eyes observed each of their faces, each of them different and completely unreadable. “What?” I finally croak, less confidently than expected.

Meredith puts down her porcelain mug onto the saucer in front of her muttering, “We’ve all been there.”

With a bad taste in my mouth, I sit back and cross my arms. Any feeling of hunger that I once had is now eliminated. “So this is normal?” I clarify.

Kendall nods, answering for the group, “Yeah. Every powerful parent wants their kid with an equally as powerful partner.”

My mouth falls open and I dejectedly groan, “Oh.”

“Just talk to each of them for 3 minutes each in front of your parents so they see you’re making an effort and then fuck someone else,” Meredith advises.

My eyes go wide and an award silence falls over the table. I don’t even know how I’d be able to hook up with anyone with Michael always up my ass. I take a bite of a coffee on my plate and the sound of my chewing is almost taunting, so I decide to speak up. “Look I know this is weird as fuck. I’m sorry my parents played matchmaker with your parents but I really need friends for the next 4 years in DC. All my friends are in New York,” I rant.

“Oh don’t worry, we got you,” Meredith politely shoos.

Kendall nods with Meredith, tucking a piece of freshly silk-pressed hair behind her ear. “Yeah. This town is easy once you get the hang of it,” she eases my anxiety.

“What color is your dress?” Vanessa asks with a tilted head.

“Blue,” I respond and I can immediately tell that’s not the correct answer for the only girl in this group who doesn’t seem to like me.

Vanessa rolls her eyes. “We shouldn’t be photographed together. We’re all wearing black,” she complains, making me feel ostracized.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know,” I apologize genuinely.

“It’s okay! Let’s lean into the jewel tones. We should start transitioning to spring colors, anyway. Right ladies?” Meredith steps in and effectively redirects the energy of the conversation. Thank god for the girl; she’s like the human representation of sugar.

Vannessa’s brows knit. “We have to start getting ready in 2 hours,” she points out.

Meredith wipes the corners of her mouth with the cloth napkin. “That’s why we have backups, darling,” she reminds her friend before turning her attention to me. “Don’t worry, Libby,” she coos.

Kendall puts her hand on my arm and when I turn my head to look at her, she’s smiling brightly at me. I hate to be the one to push a BIPOC girlie out of the friend group but there’s only room for one bitch in this town.

Kendall retracts her hand, reaching for the next item that catches her eye. “So how did you all meet?” I ask out of curiosity.

“Do you not know anything about us?” she cross-examines. What did I ever do to this girl?

I shake my head, looking down at the plate. I feel the anger seeping through my pores, but I know that’s not real. Anger is just the layer of emotion over frustration, Liberty. That’s what your therapist would say. “Um no,” I squeak.

“The least you could do is your research,” I hear Vanessa Scoff.

I take a deep breath, composing myself before I come clean. “Actually, I kind of did. Well, my aide did. I asked for only the need to know. I didn’t want to have a preconceived notion of you,” I stammer through my explanation.

My eyes flicker back and forth between the girls, hoping they appreciate my openness. “Oooo, I like her,” Kendall voiced.

The corners of Meredith’s mouth quirk up. “Me too,” Meredith agrees and I smile. ⅔ isn’t bad considering women are women.

Once the dining crew sees we’re finished nibbling on our snacks, they file in, cleaning out everything. The conversation stops until the room and when they do, Kendall locks her hands and puts them on the table in front of her. “So, Libby. Do you drink?” she digs and I know I’ll have to ask about the group's history later.

I gnaw on my lip, unsure of how much I want to disclose to them. Although this is a friendship, I still need to be strategic about my words. “Ummm,” I start.

“Oh come on, you can tell us,” Vannessa urges.

I know I can tell probably Kendall and Meredith, but not so much Vanessa. At least, not yet. “I’ve been drunk a couple of times but it’s been a couple of years since I’ve tried anything,” I lie.

Meredith throws her napkin down on the table in front of her dramatically. “Oh boo. You’re def coming out with us tonight,” she demands.

“Tonight?” I ask. I’m not sure how to say ‘I need security clearance from everyone in the United States to leave the house but yes, I would love to join you.’

“Yeah, after dinner. We’ll probably go out with the whole group,” Kendall explains, snapping me out of my self-sabotaging spiral. Stop worrying, Libby. Jo can probably just say it’s for the plan.

Now, thinking about the possibility of going out tonight, I feel giddy. “Um okay, I just have to ask if I can–”

“Oh don’t worry about it. I’ll have my assistant talk to your assistant or something. You’re coming,” Meredith cuts me off.

Okay. Cheers to making friends, Libby.

My fingers caress the smooth Tiffany blue fabric as I attempt not to wrinkle it stepping into it for the night. The fluffy tulle underneath the top layer slightly scratches my skin and I straighten my back, trying to get used to the uncomfortable feeling. I’ve been fidgeting ever since I sat in the beauty chair an hour ago.

Michael took his break right after we came back since we’ll be going out tonight. I won’t see him until the gala, and I’m trying not to obsess over the thought of seeing him in a suit again.

A light knocking on the wood of my door sounds through the room and I call for them to enter, figuring it’s just Jo. My mouth nearly falls to the floor when Michael walks in wearing an all-black tux. He has no tie on and the top two buttons of his shirt are undone, showing his delicious collarbone. Fucking hell. Before him, I didn’t even find collarbones attractive. I don’t miss the matching Tiffany blue pocket square that contrasts perfectly against the dark fabric.

My hands fly to the top of my dress, attempting to hide the fact that my chest is practically falling out of the garment. “Jo asked me to grab you. You need help with the zipper?” he asks, pointing towards my back.

I nod, feeling the flush spread from my cheeks to my entire body. “Um, yeah. That’d be great,” I sputter.

He quickly crosses the room until he’s standing behind me in the mirror. When his fingers grip the bottom of the dress to start zipping, they brush against my skin. I flinch slightly at the cold sensation against my spine. “My bad,” he half-heartedly apologizes, before gently tugging the zipper upward.

As he zips up my dress, my heart pounds. I can feel my body warming up at his touch. The air is so thick it threatens to choke me. I can only wonder if he is having the same trouble. “It’s okay. Your hands are just cold,” I chuckle.

Once the zipper is at the top, Michael reaches inside, hooking the dress. He takes a step back and lets out a large huff. Was he holding his breath that whole time?

I adjust the straps on my shoulder, smoothing the dress out in the front. “Thank you,” I say to his reflection in the mirror.

“Mm. Let’s go before Jo kills me,” he responds, turning around.

Scooping the white gloves off the vanity, I scurry behind him. “Didn’t know Jo scared you,” I tease.

“She doesn’t. But if I cross her, she’ll have my job,” he says with his back facing me.

“And your freedom,” I add.

Michael suddenly stops, causing me to smack into his back. “Thanks for reminding me, Lib,” he growls lowly.

“Fucking hell, Mikey.” I groan out as I steady myself and he turns around to face me. “No warning?” I demand, raising my eyebrows in a what-the-fuck way.

“No,” he challenges.

I lurch at Michael, stomping like a child. “Fuck you,” I fume.

Michael sidesteps out of my grasp and I curse myself for the stupid super-soldier training. “Not tonight, my lady. I have a headache,” he exaggerates with a hand over his forehead like a damsel in distress.

I roll my eyes in disgust. “I’m going to vomit,” I grumble.

Jo comes into the hall, putting her hand on the small of my back. “Please don’t. You were supposed to be downstairs,” she pauses to look at her wristwatch. “5 minutes. The girls are waiting for you to go in,” she says, gently pushing me forward.

My eyes widen and I brush past Michael, quickly bolting towards the stairs. “Shit, shit, shit, shit. Sorry, Jo!”

“Don’t run! You’ll sweat out your hair,” she shouts, running after me. Realizing she’s right, I slow my pace walking down the steps.

When we get to the first floor, the girls come into view. Each of them is dressed in beautiful pastel colors, but their accessories are all different. Damn, we’ll look good as a group.

“Showtime ladies,” Jo claps after we’ve exchanged pleasantries. Kendall hooks her arm onto Vanessa, who looks displeased by the physical touch.

Meredith follows suit, hooking her arm on the inside of mine with a warm smile. “I’m nervous,” I confess. This is the first presidential event I’ll be attending as The President’s daughter and it’s putting me on edge. On top of that, I have to think about my dating life.

Meredith squeezes my arm, reassuring me. “You’ll be fine. Just remember what we talked about. 3 minutes then come hang with us,” she instructs lowly.

When we turn the corner into the visitors foyer, I take a deep breath. Once we walk through those double doors, i’ll be debuted to the country. The cool February air shocks my system and I rapidly blink, trying to acclimated to the weather. It’s no bother however, because the flashing lights of the camera clicks are enough to blind me.

Meredith takes control, leading us over to the first photograph station. I pose and smile with the group, praying that seeing me on the front page tomorrow morning will brighten my mom’s day. “Can we get a solo picture please, Liberty?” I hear a paparazzi yell towards me.

Meredith and Kendall overhear the commotion of requests and I feel them both take a step back. Feeling anxious, I secure my hands around their waists, keeping them by my side. “I only listen to Jo,” I shout back, tilting my head towards my aide.

I search the crowd for Michael, hoping to use him as an anchor just in case Jo approves the solo shots. My desperate eyes connect with his “Miss Jo. Can we please have a solo picture of Liberty?” I overhear a different photographer ask Jo.

“We’re doing friends and family shots only tonight, everyone,” Jo lets them down and I thank god for her understanding my introversion.

We make our way through the rest of the photo ops, finishing with my family. Each of the girls in the group charm the pants off my parents, leaving them begging the group to return and breathe life into The White House.

Once the next diplomat introduces themself to my mom, we take that as our dismissal cue, walking up the steps to the main entry. When I peer over my shoulder, I feel at ease seeing Michael just a few paces behind.

When we enter the state dining room, Jo bids me a goodbye for the rest of the night. I turn to take in the decorations, seeing the area covered with white and blue balloons and streamers. There are tables lining the walls, leaving the center of the room open with enough space to do cartwheels across the dance floor. The harsh overhead lights have been dimmed with string lighting filling the empty spaces on the ceiling. I make my way over to the bar area with the girls where huge glitter stars are hanging from the tall ceilings.

The government really put tax money to good use with this one.

Michael slightly spooks me when he comes up to lean on the bar next to me. I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to him being around with his level of stealthiness. I open my mouth to compliment his tux when someone cuts in instead. “Hey Mere,” I hear a man's voice say behind me.

When I turn around a tall and rather attractive-looking white man is smirking at Meredith. Like I’m watching a ping pong match, my eyes dart back and forth between the two. As a girls girl, I need to know if Teddy and Meredith have any history so I can have her back. “Teddy,” she grits through her teeth and her tone has me deciphering that it’s taking a lot of energy for her to stay composed.

“Teddy and I went to school together,” she introduces us. I extend my hand for him to shake but she steps slightly in between us, leaning over until her lips are close to my ear. “Don’t shake his hand, he’s kinda creepy,” she whispers, grabbing something off the back of the bar behind me to disguise her warning.

I retract my hand, putting it down near my side. I look at Michael and attempt to telepathically communicate with him. Don’t let him touch me.

He nods and I tuck a stray piece of hair behind my ear, trying to remember how to be appealing without making physical connections. “Theodore Arnault, a pleasure to meet you,” Theodore introduces himself.

I smile, waving slightly. “Likewise,” I mumble before he turns his attention to the bartender.

I furrow my brows at the girls. Maybe I should’ve studied who was going to be here. “Who did I just meet?” I question.

“His dad owns a bunch of shit, including the club we’ll be at tonight,” Kendall explains before picking up a glass of champagne from the bar.

“What type of club is it?” I ask, anxious to prepare myself for the social situation.

The corners of Vanessa’s mouth curve into a maniacal smile. “The private no phones kind,” she reveals.

“Hm,” I grunt before my darling sister comes to sweep me up to enjoy the hustle and bustle of the event.

3 more hours and I can finally have some fun.

I watch myself as I dance in the mirror of the pink bathroom in the private club. It’s around midnight now, and I’m only one drink in, waiting for Kendall to finish her business. I lean forward to look at myself more closely, and then pull out the lip gloss tube that I put in her purse, reapplying a shiny new coat.

Kendall comes out of the stall, and then the water turns on next to me at the counter. I turn to find her scrubbing her hands furiously, grumbling to herself. “It’s gross in here and the floor is sticky. I hate clubs.”

She shudders and shakes her hands out over the sink before grabbing a paper towel to dry them off. “If you’re not having fun, we can leave and go back to my place.” I simplify, swinging the door open and going straight towards the bar.

Michael sees us exit the toilet room, standing from his position next to the door. “Yes, because 3 drunk girls in The White House is a good idea,” she notes sarcastically. My head falls back with laughter and I join Michael with her in tow. She says that but I bet I can convince her to sleep over.

The club is extremely packed with music so loud that the only place we can hear each other is either right outside or inside the bathrooms. So that’s why when I make my way over and lean over the bar, I have to scream out, “Two margaritas,” to John. He’s been our favorite bartender all night, making every drink a double.

I stretch my hand out to him with my credit card in it but he gives the response of, “Your money’s no good here.” John shakes his head as if he’s sick of telling me that tonight, and turns around to make our drinks.

So far the club music is good and the drinks are strong. John slides a tequila sunrise and a tequila sprite across the bar and I smile, silently thanking him while grabbing our drinks. I take a couple sips of mine as I hand Kendall her tequila sunrise, and move towards the middle of the dance floor towards Vanessa and Meredith. Michael walks around the edges of the room, giving us enough space to socialize but still keeping us safe.

I usher Kendall with me and when we make it to the center, I start swaying back and forth with the music, sipping my drink. Suddenly, a hand is on my waist, and my eyes go to Kendall who’s in front of me in question. She shakes her head, signaling it’s definitely not Michael.

I turn around and to my surprise, there stands a beautifully chiseled man with brown eyes and dark brown hair. He bends down until his lips are close to my ear. “Hi,” he loudly greets to be heard over the music of the club.

The rainbow lights flash on his face. He’s not Michael, but he’s definitely not ugly. Michael and I can’t even be together, so might as well flirt with a potential power player while I’m here.

“Hi,” I shout, standing on my tip toes so he can hear me.

He puts a hand on my waist, bending down again. “Wanna dance?”

I take another sip of my drink and circle him until I’m facing his back. Tan skin, strong arms, and a muscular back. He lacks bicep muscles, unlike Michael, but he does have an ass for days. I continue walking in a circle around him until I’m standing in front of him again. My hand reaches forward to touch his chest, letting it trail down to his abs. “Yes,” I flirt, giving him a mischievous grin.

He smirks, and grabs my waist, spinning me around until my ass is against his crotch. His hands rub my body as we dance to the music together, and I take another sip of my drink before his lips meet my ear again. “You want me to hold that for you?”

I’m clumsy as shit and I wouldn’t mind putting pause on this drink for a few songs. But I don't want to put it down on the bar. Seems like a good idea to me, I think, and pass my drink to him. “Yeah, sure.”

We dance together for a few more songs before I spin around, taking a sip from my drink in his hands. When it’s empty, he bends down and shakes the cup to show me it’s empty. “I’m gonna toss this.” He smiles, then disappears into the crowd, my eyes on his ass until I can’t see it anymore.

I turn around and look for my friends for the first time in 10 minutes. Meredith, Kendall, and Vanessa are still dancing together, unaware of the man I’ve been grinding on. Michael’s stare, however, is like a silent sniper. His eyes are consumed with anger and they’re cutting through the crowd of people that’s between me and where he’s sitting at the bar. Shit. This is definitely a conversation we shouldn’t be having inside the club.

I turn towards the girls, tapping them both on the shoulder to signal I’m going outside for fresh air. They nod, going back to dancing before I feel my arm being grabbed. When I look up, my eyes meet Michaels. He wastes no time dragging me through the crowd of people and towards the entry. As soon as we make it to the front doors, I yank my arm out of his grasp.

That doesn’t deter him from squatting and tossing me smooth over his shoulder. “Put me down,” I howl, beating on his back. He ignores me and I watch the ground pass below me as he continues to walk.

When he finally stops and sets me down. I look around, trying to gain my bearings after being upside down when he forcefully grabs my face with his hand. If I snap back like I want to, I’ll fucking pass out from hitting my head on the brick. “You like it don’t you,” he spits in my face.

“Like what?” I shift on my legs, smirking at him.

He loosens his grip on my face, trailing his touch down to my neck. I try to stay composed, but I’m sure he can feel my pulse beneath his fingertips.

“The fact that I can’t have you. You taunt me every second of the day. You fucking know,” he speculates.

Truthfully, I didn’t. Thank god men are idiots. “Had an inkling but I wasn’t sure until now,” I disclose.

“Stop,” he orders, pressing his lips in a thin line.

I put my hands on his sides, gripping his black cotton shirt. “Stop what?” I egg him on.

“Stop dangling…” he starts to respond but I’m distracted when the world starts to feel dizzy. My breathing turns shallow and I try to process his words. I’m probably just drunk.

I nod, locking my knees when my vision begins to slip and I become nauseous. My body sways and I feel strong arms cradling my body.

And then, darkness.

Taglist: @cherrellek, next part

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