#michael b. jordan x oc

[bed-chemist]

❝ fortnight ❞

─⋆♡ chapter summary: Michael and Liberty go on a date. well, sort of.

─⋆♡ 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: obsession, stalking, eating disorder, angst, 18+ black!writer, language, stalking and obsession from MMCs pov, blood (mentioned), alcohol (mentioned), torture (mentioned), hostages (mentioned), threatening (more like some warnings but that's subjective), weapons (mentioned), physical descriptors (brief discussion about being black in america and body descriptors), characters affected by symptoms of anxiety or depression, lmk if i missed something.

series masterlist ✰ faceclaims ✰ libby’s cabinet ✰ spotify playlist word count: 5.7k ⋆

Michael

The deep vibration on my watch jolts me awake letting me know the guard’s shift change is in progress. My surroundings immediately catch me off guard. The faint morning light shines through the sheer curtains and the smell of vanilla wafts through the room. My entire body is sore and I groan at the shooting pain in my knuckles when I adjust my arm to check my notifications. I should’ve taken some painkillers before smashing my fists into that dick’s face.

Surprisingly, my watch isn't on fire with messages. I sigh and let my arm fall back onto the bed, maybe a little too hard, because Liberty’s warm body shifts next to me. She rolls over until she’s facing me, getting comfortable on my bicep. Her breathing remains slow and even, letting me know she’s still fast asleep.

I take the time to memorize every detail of her face. It’d be a miracle if she ever let me this close to her again unless she’s under duress.

It’s not as if I don’t already know everything about her. I know what she’s allergic to, every broken bone she’s ever had, and every person who’s had the pleasure of fucking her. And that’s not just because I’ve been assigned to her in exchange for my freedom. 

Ever since her picture floated across the metal table on the 30th day of my torture in the same basement we had been in last night, I became obsessed with her. They trained me like a dog, only feeding me and allowing me to rest when they were telling me controlled information about her. 

The name ‘Liberty Washington’ became my beacon of light but remained a subconscious part of my original makeup. The one that reminded me that she is my prison. But my obsession with her continued when they released me. Since they only showed me the photo of her once, I used all the resources available to me to obtain the information they hadn’t given me.

If I were trapped by a 20-year-old for 4 years, I would know how she presented herself to the world.

My eyes wander down from her forehead to her chin, categorizing every part of her warm smooth skin. Her doe-eyes are softly shut and her long lashes splay out against her high cheekbones. She exhales a light sigh from her plum-colored lips and I fight the desire to wake her with a kiss.

She is by far the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. No one can hold a candle to her, even when she’s asleep and isn’t trying. I attempt to smooth the mess of hair secured on top of her head with bobby pins, but all I’m left with is a sticky substance on my palm. 

My touch wanders down to her cheek, caressing her face with the back of my hand. Her breathing hitches momentarily before her eyelids begin fluttering. She hums, nuzzling into my skin. “Mmm that tickles,” she complains.

Shit. She doesn’t want me touching her and I can’t touch her. She doesn’t even want me in her bed. I silently scold myself again for waking her after the traumatic night she had last night. “My bad,” I apologize, removing my hand from her face.

Her eyes snap open as she reaches out, grabbing my wrist. “No, don’t stop,” she whimpers with a scratchy voice.

I untangle our bodies and by the look on her face, I think she knows I won’t return to the action. Instead, I carefully untangle our bodies to slide out of her bed. “Go back to sleep, I need to shower,” I advise her.

She frowns before saying, “I don’t–”

“Don’t argue with me that you don’t need sleep. Those drugs may be out of your system but you're in withdrawal,” I cut her off, scolding her.

She opens her mouth to rebuttal but a shiver runs through her body like a wave. “And by the looks of it, shock. Fuck,” I grumble, pulling the covers up to tuck her into the bed. “I need to get to Jo before she gets to you,” I tell her, knowing that Jo will take one look at her and flip out.

As if I’ve jinxed it, the door to Libby’s room smacks against the wall. Jo barges in with her heels clicking against the floor with every step. Her displeased disposition emanates through the room when she simply states, “We need to have a conversation.”

So much for Liberty resting. “About what?” Liberty questions, rubbing the sleep away from her eyes.

Jo’s eyes flicker back and forth between me and Liberty. “Well now that I see your assigned agent half naked in your bed, we may need to have two conversations,” she snips. The cool air on my skin is enough to determine what she’s irate about.

Liberty groans, sitting up from where she was lying beneath me just moments ago. “We didn’t do anything,” she defends.

“It doesn’t matter. Agent Jordan, need I remind you of your contract? You are only permitted to touch Liberty in cases of emergency. If I report this to her mother, you can kiss your freedom goodbye,” Jo warns. I figured she’d be the first to rat us out if I ever pursued Liberty since she’s always up her ass. 

I take that as a cue to get the fuck out of the bed and I take it, standing from the cool sheets. Liberty scrambles to the edge of the bed, swinging her feet over the edge. I glower at her in warning and she pauses, her toes hovering just above the ground. “No, Jo. Please don’t,” she attempts to plead despite me grounding her to her bed.

Displeasure covers Jo’s face and she turns around when all three of us sense shuffling in the living room. Jo shoos Liberty’s dressing crew away, shutting the door in their faces.

She groans into the wood, “Oh fuck, Libby. Please don’t tell me you’ve become a love-sick idiot in three days. You have a job to do,” and it sounds like a prayer more than a statement.

The air is sucked out of the room and Liberty quickly covers. “No, I didn’t. I just asked him to keep me company last night when I was drunk. It wasn’t his fault.

When I hear her words, I can’t help but feel something tingling in my stomach. What the fuck is that? Disappointment? No. Rejection? Who fucking knows.

“Michael, is that true?” Jo asks me to confirm Liberty’s accounts, bringing me back to the present.

Liberty’s deep brown iris connects with mine, silently pleading with me to keep the full details of last night under wraps. I return my attention to Jo, nodding with my lips pressed together.

Jo squints at the two of us and I can practically feel her scanning my soul for deception. Her face eventually softens and she sighs. “Why were you even drinking?” she questions Liberty.

“Because it was a Friday night and the gi–” Liberty starts before I cut her off by clearing my throat. The more she talks about last night, the more we’ll have to change the little details.

“How old are you, Libby?” Jo cuts the President’s daughter off.

“20,” she murmurs and I’m reminded of the immaturity that comes with her age. 

Jo follows up immediately with, “And how old do you have to be to drink in the United States?”

“21, but,” she says and I can feel the excuse coming.

So can Jo because she stops her from continuing. “But, nothing. Do you see these pictures, Libby?”

“What about them?” Liberty counters.

“What about them? What about them?!” Jo’s voice raises with every passing second. She reaches into her bag pulling out a stack of newspapers. “Liberty Washington, you are the second black first family in this white house. So you already know you’ll be scrutinized more than former president’s daughters,” she rants, throwing the landfield into Liberty’s lap. “I don’t care if someone hands you a ton-sized bottle of champagne, you do not take it before you turn 21.” 

Libby thumbs through the tabloids and I watch as the color drains from her face. She looks up at me and I truthfully have nothing to say to comfort her. This is the outcome of hanging out with those rich ass white girls. I shrug and she frowns, seemingly displeased with my lack of response.

Liberty sighs, removing the pictures from her lap and setting them aside. “Okay, I’m sorry,” she apologizes.

Jo’s face softens and she takes a step forward. “You know I don’t care, but the public does. Now we need to do damage control,” she tells her, sitting next to her on the bed.

“What type of damage control?” Liberty follows up.

“The type of damage control that does not present a hung-over, first daughter,” Jo informs her. She points between the two of us adding, “You two are going out.”

“Out? Where?” Liberty parrots.

Jo sighs standing from the bed. “Lunch. Somewhere well-lit where you can be photographed looking perfectly healthy and not looking like you just escaped death.” She begins typing on her phone and I assume she’s pulling up the closest approved restaurants in the area.

“Go shower,” Jo commands me and I nod, moving to exit from the room.

“I know Harry and Rowan are attached at the hip right now, but it’s worth a shot reaching out to them. Maybe we can fly them out to support you,” I hear Jo advise Liberty and my ears perk up.

“No. They’ve got enough going on right now,” Liberty replies and I glance behind me with confusion.

Who the fuck are Harry and Rowan. Those sound like masculine names and they did not come up on my search. How the fuck are they connected to Liberty. My Liberty. And how quickly can I find out everything I know about them?

The moment we stepped out of the car at the Italian restaurant 30 minutes ago, we got swarmed with cameras. The shuttering sound hasn’t stopped ringing out and I’m consistently triggered. The sound of photos being snapped sounds oddly similar to a knife being sharpened. My upper back carried a ton of weight when I quickly jogged over to Libby’s side of the car to let her out.

When slid out, black heels first accentuating how short her skirt was, a low growl bubbled to the surface. My instinct was to push Libby behind me to hide her but that wasn’t possible. We have one job today. To get her seen looking perfectly fine.

Now, I watch meticulously as Libby swirls the fork in the pasta dish on the patio, bringing another bite up to her lips. The lunch has been mostly silent; she gives me flirty glances and I return them with glares.

In flickering moments, I find myself feeling guilty for the way I’m treating her. How I’m keeping her at arm's length so she doesn’t learn the full truth. It’s fucked up that the person I want the most is sitting within grasp, but touching her means giving up my breath.

She’ll hate me if I tell her the truth about the deal and my obsession with her that came with it. She’ll hate me if I tell her I can’t be with her because touching her means my death follows swiftly. I can’t win. 

I swallow thickly as Libby’s leg drags up the inside of my leg. My gaze lowers on hers and I feel a growl coming forward, “Lib, the fucking cameras.”

I knew this was a bad idea. As soon as I saw the date-like table placement, I should’ve requested we be moved. She bats her eyelashes and my jaw clenches. Those siren eyes alone could send any untrained agent into a spiral. Her charisma and confidence would’ve made her a shoo-in, in a different life.

“What? They couldn’t see that. And besides, I asked you a question, I was just trying to get your attention,” she manipulates the situation flawlessly so it’s impossible to be mad at her. Aside from the straggling tourists sitting at the nearby tables, the Italian restaurant is empty. Suddenly I feel even more guilty for forcing her to only chat with me.

I hold her gaze as I take a sip of water. “You have it, Lib. Always. What did you ask?”

She licks her glossed lips and I want to grab her throat and taste her tongue for myself. “Wanna play 21 questions?” asks suggests.

My brain races with how negatively this could go. She could ask me anything and I know I wouldn’t be able to lie to her. Not because I was trained to see her as my savior, but out of respect. She deserves to know how she’s being used if she’s curious about it.

“Oh come on. I’m not going to ask you anything groundbreaking like the codes to the torture room,” she jokes and I tense. “I just want to know you a bit better,” she continues.

My mouth unconsciously counters with, “You know me already through the file Mommy dearest gave you.”

“I want to know what’s between the pages. Tell me something the government doesn’t know, Michael.”

Her tone is tempting as she leans closer to me, causing her breasts to practically spill out of her top. Against my better judgment, I survey my surroundings. A couple of sleaze bags stare a hole through Libby’s chest and I attempt to shove my irrational self away. “I’ll tell you whatever you want once you sit the fuck up,” the deep grumble slips.

Libby smirks, leaning back into her chair. Her fingers dance on her jacket, pulling it tight around her midsection. “Better?” she tests.

The urge to roll my eyes is intense but I nod, giving her confirmation. I shift in my seat, awaiting her first question when she blurts, “Okay, let me think…Oh, I know! What’s your favorite song?” 

“That's your first question?” I ask slightly baffled. I expected her to come out of the gate swinging.

She giggles, and at that moment, I decide that it’s my favorite sound. “Well I knew you weren’t going to answer anything about my parents so I went with that,” she confesses. 

The watch on my wrist flashes a bright light into her eyes and I adjust it when I see her squinting. “That’s a simple one, Lib. You just wasted a question. Sweet Sticky Thing by Ohio Players.”

I watch her as she processes the information, confusion washing over her face. “What’s a Sweet Sticky Thing?”

“Is that one of your questions?” I counter.

She shakes her head no, pursing her lips. “Good, it’s my turn,” I add.

A soft chuckle leaves her lips and I can’t help but smile. “Go off, king,” she directs me to proceed and I snort.

My brain mentally combs through her file. I know she wants to be a teacher, but I can’t fathom the reasoning behind being around snotty-nosed kids all day. She’d be good at it, though. Her bubbly aura is perfect for playtime while her stern demeanor will ensure her students learn. “Why teaching?”

I study her body as she looks heaven-forward like the answer is above her. “So I can go teach in a country where nobody knows who I am and I have no significant value to the people. It’s my ‘out’,” she tells me with air quotes around the final word once she’s found the answer.

I pop a piece of breadstick into my mouth, responding with a hum. The fluffy substance takes me a bit to chew, giving her the perfect opportunity to ask, “What’s your favorite color?”

“Black.”

She squints at me and her face scrunches with disgust. “Do you enjoy being absolutely predictable?”

My brows furrow, matching her facial expression. “What’s that supposed to mean?” I dig.

“Every man’s favorite color is black. You couldn’t have picked something unique like tangerine or gunmetal?” She scoffs like she’s bored with my response.

My arms slide together to cross, feeling instantly defensive. “I didn’t know my answers had to fit in with your idea of me, Lib,” I say.

She seems to notice my guarded body language, reaching across the table to grab my arm. The contrast of her cold hand against my skin sends sparks to my brain. At that moment, we both hear the shutter roll of a camera, presumably nearby. 

She jerks slightly, but I make no move to acknowledge their presence. It’s what we’re here for, after all. “No, you’re right. I’m sorry. Black is a great color. Suits you,” she stammers over herself.

Although I don’t uncross my arms, my upper body loosens up a bit as she returns to her sitting position. I chastise myself for wishing I could touch her; my head filled with all the things I would do with her. And that moment she made that joke over a fucking color, I wanted to bend her over my knee. 

But I couldn’t. 

She could take all of me, piece by piece. And it looks like she’s going to.

My craving to change the subject causes me to blurt out, “So since mine is so boring, what’s yours?”

“Tiffany blue. Can’t you tell?” she asks, gesturing to her long-sleeved shirt.

“Didn’t notice,” I lie.

I had noticed. In every picture I’d seen her in, she had some type of blue accessory. Her dress was the same color Friday night. And now, she’s a tight tweed dress with soft teal thread on the edges. I’ve counted nearly every stitching by now.

She licks her lips, eyes darting to her lap. Her whole body language shifts downwards with insecurity. Like she’s trying to hide her perfect face from me. “Well then,” she grumbles, obviously irritated.

Fuck. The last thing I ever want to do is make her feel like shit. “What’s your favorite animal?” I ask her, trying to get her mind off my previous statement.

Her eyes narrow and she nips, “It’s not your turn.”

“Well fine, you go,” I direct pointedly. 

“What happened last night?” she asks.

My neck rolls with discomfort. “What part?” I ask.

A flash of sadness coats her brandy irises. “All of it? Start from the alleyway.”

I inhale sharply before sighing, “Look, I’m gonna be honest with you, Lib. I don’t remember anything between knowing you were okay and seeing you half-naked in the basement.”

“That’s okay, we can fill in the gaps,” she shrugs as if it’s that easy. When I black out, I don’t remember anything, Liberty.

Hesitation overtakes my brain and I search her face and body for the truth. She’s slightly leaning forward with interest but she still looks a bit upset. Maybe this will help her. “When you passed out, I picked you up and carried you to the car. Called Damson on the way back in to get your fucking friends. Meredith is the only one who came back with me so I shoved her in the back seat with you. Told her to make herself useful and hold your hair while I shoved my fingers down your throat,” I rant.

I pause when she picks up her fork and it makes a clanking noise. “Keep going,” she commands.

So, I press on. “On the way back, I coaxed her into telling me about every person she knew. Then I told her the situation and told her to keep her mouth shut. I knew how to take care of the situation and I didn’t want her in it.”

Liberty starts nodding like she’s processing the information. “And then you took off,” she theorizes. 

“No. I had Damson meet me by the front and get you checked out by the doctor. They said you just needed sleep so he put you and Meredith to bed,” I tell her, though I leave the part out about screaming in Damson’s ear the entire time to keep his shit together and take care of her. I wouldn’t have moved forward with picking them up if mine wasn’t okay.

Her nose scrunches. “While you went and got Vanessa and Teddy,” she hits the jackpot.

“I’d assume so,” I confirm.

She stares at me dead on and I feel my jaw clench. My heart begins to pound in my chest anticipating her next words. “Okay,” she utters after what feels like forever.

She begins swirling her fork into her past dish, prepping for another bite. My brows knit and my body doesn’t untense. “Okay?” I parrot. I was half expecting her to rip me a new asshole for my behavior.

She nods, looking over towards the hoard of paparazzi. The flashes are almost blinding as they take advantage of the perfect angle. When her face returns to my direction she nonchalantly adds, “Yeah. I don’t feel the need to know much beyond that. They’re both dicks.”

My brows raise in surprise and I feel myself slowly starting to agree with her. I could’ve done much worse. I wanted to do much worse. But, she stopped me and isn’t harping on it. “Touché,” I respond.

She smirks, bringing the prepared pasta toward her captivating face that I detailed just this morning. “Your turn,” she says before gracefully taking the bite.

My brows crease and I ask, “We’re still playing?”

“Yeah, I mean, we still need to be here for another 10 minutes. Might as well get to know each other,” she explains.

The point is I already know everything about you, Liberty. Maybe not the Rowan and Harry parts, but I’ll find out soon enough.

“What question don’t you want me to ask?” I question genuinely. Not only because I don’t want to piss her off, but because I can just find out without her knowing.

She blinks rapidly as if she’s trying to determine if I’m being sarcastic. After a couple of beats, she responds, “Don’t ask about my dreams.”

Why the fuck would I want to know about her subconscious. I only need to know the substantial things about her. My eyes to the crowd that hasn’t disapparated and grumble at her answer with irritation, “Okay, I won’t. Ever.” 

When I return my attention to Liberty, she looks like she’s about to cry. Tears brim her eyes and it triggers a reaction in me I didn’t know I possessed. I feel confused by the urge to hunt whoever hurt her, but a wave of guilt knowing I might be the cause of her tears. “Why do you hate me so much?” she whimpers.

My hand goes up to scratch the scruff on my chin. “Look, I’m sorry for that—”

“It’s not that. I know we’re still getting to know each other and it’s only been a few days. But, you hate my guts,” She silences me mid-sentence with a sob that leaves me reeling.

I shake my head, telling her, “I don’t hate you, Lib.” I grab the menu closest to me, putting it up by her face to shield her from view. With my other hand, I reach across the table, wiping the tears from where they’re prickling in the corners of her eyes. The cameras snap, but none catch the simple action shared between us.

What I feel for her is far from hate. My desire will have me forever sprinting towards her. Even when she does eventually marry another man, I’ll still be chained to her. I’ll want to kill every lover she has and even then, the feeling will only be temporary. 

My love for her will ruin my life.

She chuckles, releasing a bit of spit flying from her lips. “Then what? Cause you sure as hell don’t like me.”

My chest becomes heaving with anxiety. I touched her for only a night and she’s already crumbling me until I eventually wither away to nothing. “Lib,” I mutter in warning.

She sniffles one last time before straightening her back. The dreaded noise of the cameras doesn't stop once she’s in view again. If anything they only get louder. “You know what I think? You didn’t expect to like me. You were comfortable loathing me because you are chained to me for four years. But then you met me and I’m not ugly. I’m fun, talented, smart as fuck, and that scares you,” she boasts boldly.

The air is knocked out of my chest and my jaw drops slightly. My mouth snaps shut when I realize it’s the one thing I can’t tell her. Her eyes flicker back and forth between mine and she presses on, “It scares you how perfect I’d be for you, or am I wrong?”

I swallow thickly, prepared to confess my feelings for her. 

She is what I want. She is what I need. 

She is the love of my life and I’m sure of it. It might be clouded by quiet treason and I’ve never felt love, but I’d bet my life on it. Everything I feel for aligns with the emotions I’ve mirrored from others. And I’m going to make her mine one way or another. I don’t care if I have to kill every potential heir, get her pregnant, or marry her to get what I want: her waking up next to me every morning.

I open my mouth to answer when Libby cuts in. “Shut up. Don’t answer that. I don’t think I could handle knowing,” she snips before checking her phone. She grabs it and stands from her seat, letting me know it’s time to go. When I join her to exit the restaurant, I’m still reeling.

The heat in my feet sears up my calves as I run to the beat in my gym. 

I’ve come to learn that Liberty and I don’t talk about things, we exercise. If there’s nothing for us to do and we’re avoiding conversating, we’re sprinting right next to each other. We’re running longer than average tonight, cementing the tension between us. We both feel it, but her attempts to put distance between the two of us are futile. 

Being someone’s shadow has never felt so isolating. 

The sweat drips from my face and I pick up a towel to collect the perspiration. I scowl, deciding we both need a shower before eating. My finger flicks the switch on the machine, switching to a cool-down mode.

My head turns to look at Liberty while I begin slowly jogging. Her face doesn’t twitch and she remains looking at the white brick wall in front of her. When I wave, she glances at me for half a second, rolling her eyes before returning her attention to the wall.

Anger bubbles inside my body and I mentally incinerate myself for being upset by not getting attention from a fucking woman. So, she wants to ignore me? Two can play that game.

A few more minutes of my cool down go by before I completely turn the machine off. I slowly wipe my hands and step off the machine, grabbing my bottle of water.

As I take a sip, I glare at Liberty. She seemingly senses me staring and her head snaps in my direction. “I’m not stopping,” she grumbles.

“You need to eat,” I instruct. If she thinks I don’t know about her little eating disorder, she’s out of her mind. The others might not have picked up on it, but the signs have been evident over the past 3 days. She’s so stressed, she barely eats and she runs to process that stress. Every time she looks in the mirror, she seems disappointed, like what she sees doesn’t match herself. 

She crying out for help and I’ve been the only one to notice. Maybe that’s the reason her parents got her a guard; someone to keep an eye on all the kids.

“And I’m not taking out my headphones for you to bark orders at me,” she raises her tone and her voice reverberates off the wall.

Fuck, she’s hot when she’s mad. The growing semi in my pants doesn’t help considering I’m trying to get her to come with me in this situation, not argue with me.

I decide to take advantage of my desires this once, positioning myself directly next to her machine. Applying my dynamic balance skills, I step onto the edge of the treadmill. My left leg swings over to the other side of the belt until I’m standing still behind her with her running in front of me.

I exhale a deep breath before running through this plan. It’ll scare the shit out of her, but I’ll catch her.

“Liberty,” I husk lowly and she screams, tripping over her feet. My hands quickly grip her sides as she becomes dead weight, nearly falling face forward.

My thighs tingle in my squatting position, but she’s unharmed, so I let out a comfortable sign. She hovers right above the rapidly moving belt with her hands almost kissing it. Her extensions drag against the dirty material, giving me even more of an excuse to push her towards the shower.

My body doesn’t move, allowing her to internalize the fear of almost eating shit. Then, I slowly lift her, wrapping my hands around her waist until her back is pressed to my front. My legs swing over the belt once more until we’re both on the side of the machine, stepping down from the death contraption.

I swear I can feel her heart racing through her back as I grip her tightly, pressing my bulge into her. My nose inhales the delicious smell of her pheromones and I fight the impulse to taste her sweat.

I set her down on solid ground, prepping myself for the backlash before I remove my arms from around her waist. I decide to keep her close to me with my hands on her waist so she can’t hit me, limiting her to her tongue. 

She slowly turns around to look at me, her cheeks a dark plum color. It’s clear she doesn't find the situation funny when she hits my chest with the palm of her hand. I look at her face and realize, I’ve unlocked a dragon. 

She raises her voice to say, “Michael!” her voice cracks and she pauses out of breath. “What is your middle name?”

I smirk and look down at her. “Bakari, my lady. What’s yours?” I ask in return, hoping she’ll open up to me. After reading her file, I already know it. Including her most recent STI test, which is clean of course.

She ignores me, stomping over to the wall and yanking the plug out of the socket. She turns back to me with her siren eyes filled with fire. “Well, you know what? You can fuck off Michael Bakari Jordan. What the fuck is wrong with you? I could’ve fucking died. I was trying to get to know you and you fucked with me. From here on out, you can stick a baseball bat covered in nails up your fucking ass for all I care.” 

She whips around with her back facing me, slowly dragging herself towards the door. 

Damn. She used more F-bombs than I thought was even possible in one sentence.

I smirk and rush to stand in front of her, not wanting her to keep running away from me. This is only complicated because she’s making it hard for me. I want her, but I can’t have her because I can’t touch her. They’ll kill me if they find out but if she makes the first move, I’d be willing to risk it. 

She doesn’t want to make the first move because she fears disappointing our country. And I have an inkling that she prefers aggressive men due to her ex history. It might also have to do with the dynamic of our relationship moving forward. All of the things I think about probably swirl around in her brain. Regardless, she still has to be the one to take that step.

My hands return to her sides, lightly gripping them. She shifts, snapping her thighs together but I can practically taste her wetness in the air from where I’m towering over her. There are no cameras in this room, so she is free to act irrationally, she just needs the perfect trigger.

I step forward, uncomfortably craning my neck. My head is directly above hers and her eyes widen from what I assume is our proximity. “You need to stay healthy. Don’t do that to me, Lib. You can be mad at me, but you can’t not take care of yourself in avoidance of me. I will not control you, but I will not watch you disintegrate without being able to do anything about it,” I plead for her to internalize my words.

This is the most vulnerable I’ve been with her about my feelings for her thus far, and I’m hoping she reads between the lines. The air between us crackles and my eyes search her face, awaiting her response. Her eyebrows momentarily stay scrunched before she slowly relaxes her face. 

“You could’ve gone about that a better way,” she huffs, still breathless from running and the shock of falling.

My thumbs slip underneath her cropped tank top and I stroke her damp skin. “And I’m sorry for that. I’ll explore other methods of getting your attention later,” I attempt to hint at the things I want to do to her.

My eyes flicker down to her lips and her pink tongue pokes out to lick them. A low groan emits from my chest. That should be enough of a trigger. She should know that she’s fucking me in the head by refusing to jump in head first.

She glances down at my lips before whispering, “If I do this; if we do this, it stays here. I just need to know.”

My eyebrows raise and I ask, “Know what?”

Her chest rises and falls rapidly. “If it’s real,” she responds. 

Her hands come into view, sandwiching my face between her hands. My blood rushes in my ears anticipating our lips touching. She closes slowly and starts to close the space between us and just before our lips touch, the door to the gym smacks the walls.

She jumps back, putting distance between us and my heart drops into my stomach. Dread rushes through my body and the reality of my decision hits me. If I turn to face the door and it’s not someone we can sweet talk, we’re both fucked.

As if we’re not fucked enough already.

[starcrossedxwriter]

Double Trouble (Aaron Pierre x Black Reader x MBJ)

Warnings! NSFW, HEAVY BDSM, HEAVY Daddy kink, threesome (MFM), Everything is consensual! Degredation kink, Praise kink, Bratty reader, Dom! Aaron, Dom!MBJ

A/N: went hella overboard with this one! The plot is pure filth.

***

“Baby?” 

Your soft calls were barely loud enough to be heard over your boyfriend’s latest afrobeats obsession, which blasted through your shared home’s sound system. You lazily kicked off your red bottoms, a guttural sigh of relief escaping you as your exhausted feet relaxed out of the painful position it required to sport such beautiful but impractical shoes all day.

On your way to hunt down the love of your life, you stopped by your study, not even bothering to turn on the light as you discarded your Chloe work tote in your chair and closed the door behind you. 

After closing the biggest case of your career, you would not need to see the interior of either of your offices for a week and that almost brought tears of joy to your eyes. You and Aaron did not even have the energy to plan a trip. Having just wrapped a project two weeks prior, you both were overjoyed to spend a week at home wrapped up in each other.

You rolled your shoulders. Prayerfully, your boyfriend would take pity on you and give you a massage to ease the knots that took up residence in your back. You lazily made your way to the kitchen, knowing where you’d find the man you loved - but currently did not like. 

His back was to the arched entryway as you snuck in behind him, stealing a grape from his masterful charcuterie board that sat nearby. 

Despite your righteous annoyance at him, you never missed an opportunity to simply admire Aaron in his element. Like most actors, he suffered from the curse of always having to be “on.” But in the sanctuary of your home, he could just be Aaron, your gentle, loving, goofy, carefree boyfriend. 

And it certainly helped that he looked positively delicious today, setting a stupid table for a stupid dinner you didn’t want to host. He did every day but something was about him today in particular just made you want to sink to your knees and worship him with your tongue. But you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction today. You were pissed off. 

And that lust simply soured into red hot annoyance at the surprise guest your too-kind boyfriend invited to dinner. And while you never usually complained about company,  after months of endless days and sleepless and sexless nights, your vision of a relaxing evening was not entertaining a third wheel. 

It was a tall glass of wine, an amazing meal. And… then having your daddy twist you into a literal human pretzel and fuck the stress out of your body. 

But he hated you, clearly.

A sentiment you articulated (along with others) in a snarky text hours earlier. But Aaron, forever unbothered by your theatrics, merely responded that you should trust your daddy because… 

Daddy knows best. 

And despite the strong independent lawyer inside you who demanded control and to be right (and she usually was), you knew he was right about this one thing. Aaron could always see exactly what you needed. 

And despite your attitude earlier, you still spied his traditional gift for you after winning a big case neatly displayed on the white marble counter: your favorite cake from a bakery nearby and a bouquet of tulips. The varying vibrant shades of pink made something in your soul smile. He knew you too well.

Your silent studying did not go unnoticed for long, Aaron turning around not even startled to find you there. His expressive eyes lit up at the sight of your half grin, which you tried to suppress because you were supposed to be angry at him, and the hand on your hip as you leaned into the counter. 

He was in front of you before you could blink, his strong arm wrapping around your waist to pull you into his embrace. His muscles were threatening to destroy the fabric of his crisp button down, many of his clothes ill equipped to handle the additional muscles he gained for his latest project. 

“Hey princess.” 

Forever a brat and annoyed at the implosion of your plans for the night, you jerked your head to the side as he kissed you, forcing his lips to catch your cheek instead. 

Aaron merely let out a low chuckle, knowing that your bark was far worse than your bite. 

When it came to Aaron, you were about as strong as a lawn chair. You’d fold without resistance. Every. Single. Time. You always thought you were God’s strongest soldier… until you met Aaron. Kryptonite indeed. 

“Still mad at me?” 

“Yes,” you folded your arms as best you could against your chest, scoffing. “Between you playin’ the british assassin all around LA and me trying to negotiate with that asshole partner, we’ve had zero time together and no time to relax. And our first real free night in months without briefs and lines to run, you wanna play captain save a nigga with your friend? And then you spring it on me on some last minute shit. Those lips aren’t gonna get you outta this one, A.” 

“I know, I know, Y/N. And I’m sorry for messing up your plans for the night. I know how excited you are to finally have a break. But I’m trying to surprise you so please just trust me. If I know you like I think I do, you’re gonna like it.” 

“Well I think we’re about to make history then.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“The first time you get a surprise wrong. Honestly it’s probably a good thing? You’ve always been a bit too perfect to be real,” you added, causing him to grin. “But the only thing I would like right now is for you to fuck me into oblivion. So unless this dinner guest can help with that, I doubt I’ll like it. But what’s done is done. Now let me go so I can get ready.” 

A stare down. Another moment where you’d inevitably crumbled. Because only Jesus himself was strong enough to stare in those eyes and not give this man everything you had. 

However, to your surprise, he looked away from you first, nodding and letting his arm fall so you could head upstairs. 

You started to walk out of the kitchen, prepared to sulk the last of your frustrations away before putting on the smile of a gracious host when you heard him call after you. 

“What if they can?”

“What if they can what?” you glanced behind you. 

“Help me fuck you into oblivion.” 

You lurched forward, his words stopping you dead in your tracks. 

No… he couldn’t mean… The tiniest thrill of excitement jolted across your brain like a shooting star. But you steadied yourself. He couldn’t possibly mean what you were thinking. So you played it off. 

“Ha. ha. Ha. Very funny, A.” 

“You hear me laughin’?” 

You slowly turned around to find him behind you, his eyes brimmed with pure lust. But nothing in his face signaled he was joking about a single thing. 

“Remember all those fantasies you told me about, princess?” 

It would take lifetimes for you to forget. You had the most Earth-shattering orgasm of your life telling Aaron every filthy fantasy you had while he fucked you on your apartment balcony. You prayed they were long forgotten by breakfast the next morning, but he remembered every single one. And ever since, he made it his mission to help you fulfill them. 

“Wait… you’re ser- you’re serious? You want to-” 

It was most certainly a fantasy but the practicalities of it seemed unrealistic. You never seriously considered that Aaron would ever try to arrange it.

He merely smirked and pressed his lips to the top of your nose. His voice was low, hypnotic and mesmerizing. 

“Got a few treats upstairs for you. Go get ready.” 

“Wait… we aren’t gonna talk about this?? You aren't gonna give me details?” 

“Nah. You’re gonna be a good girl for me tonight right, baby? I’d hate to punish you in front of company, princess.” 

But EYE wouldn't hate that. A voice echoed in your brain, the thought of a spanking making you want to disobey just for the hell of it.

“Of course you’d like the sound of that,” he teased you before his eyes softened a bit. You could tell he saw it. That kernel of hesitation at the whole affair, that side of you that had to be in the driver’s seat wanting to talk and litigate every risk before you leaned into the pleasure of it.

“Hey, Y/N… baby. This is just going to be a fun night. And the moment it’s no longer fun for you, we stop. Just like that. Just say the word. If you aren’t feelin' it and him, we end it and it's still just a fun night with a friend. Understand?” 

You nodded before correcting yourself so he didn’t have to. “Yes, I understand. Your surprise might’ve won out again… maybe you really are perfect.”

He shrugged. “That’s what I’ve been tryin' to tell you. Just gotta trust me. Now go get ready. Only wear what I laid out for you.” 

Every step to your master suite pumped up your adrenaline. And made you fall deeper in love with your boyfriend. And his ability to fulfill your needs and desires and center your pleasure. He knew your limits, your boundaries, your needs and never wavered. 

A black cocktail dress waited for you with strappy gold heels. Along with your gold choker, with “good girl” engraved on its gold charm and your gold bullet.

Your skin felt electrified, a buzz radiating from every cell as you readied yourself. You weren’t surprised at the slick already pooling at the crest of your thick thighs when you slid your thong to the side and eased the bullet into you. You hissed at the cool silicone against your heat but you persisted. It was uncomfortable for a moment but as you continued dressing, you long forgot its presence. You knew its companion, a small gold remote, was with your master. Exactly where it should be.

You examined yourself in the mirror, hands running over your soft curves as you studied yourself. You had to admit that Aaron picked well. The dress accentuated his favorite parts of your body, hugging your hourglass shape so your ass and thighs were on display. The cutouts and mirroring each side of your ribs and plunging neckline would give him easy access to your boobs, which were begging to be freed from the confines of the tight bodice. 

“You look fuckin’ gorgeous baby.” 

“Thank you. You picked well.” 

“Final touch?” he picked up your choker, which waited for him on the bed. He always had the privilege of putting it on you. Because it signified the official start of your game. When the choker was on, your pleasure, your body was his to command, his to give and his to take away. Sweet surrender of control to the person you trusted most in this world. 

He towered over you as he stood behind you and placed the piece on your neck.  

“We’re gonna have dinner, dessert and then if you’re comfortable with continuing the night, just ask him to stay for a drink. Otherwise, the night will end. Understand?” 

“Yes sir.” 

“Good girl.” His hands traced the hourglass shape of your curves, his hands stilling only once along the near-indistinguishable lines of your thong. However, as he opened his mouth to speak, the shrill chime of their doorbell interrupted him. He sighed, turning you around in his arms. “Later. Ready to have some fun?” 

“Yes daddy.” 

Even in heels you had to stretch yourself to reach his lips. He took your hand, leading you down the stairs, some of your nerves being replaced by sudden intrigue. 

“You really aren’t gonna tell me who it is??” 

“What would be the fun in that?” With a wink back at her, he jogged the remaining steps and crossed the foyer with the quickness of an athlete and swung their door open. 

“Hey man! Thanks for coming by. Glad we could do this.” 

“Definitely, definitely. Thanks for the invite, man.” 

And that was the second time today you found yourself stopped dead in your tracks. The Michael B. Jordan stepped into your foyer, his charisma and star-powered charm oozing out of his pores as if he naturally produced it. 

Fuck me. He invited your celebrity crush, the main character of far more wet dreams than you’d ever admit out loud. And while Aaron was it for you, if you could ever take advantage of the “celebrity hall pass” concept, Michael Bae Jordan would be at the top of your list.

Well, that’s what he’s here to do. Daddy does indeed know best. 

At first, you had a feeling you’d be taking Aaron’s out. But now? Hell would have to freeze over before you gave up the opportunity of your dreams. Part of you cursed yourself for not guessing it was him to begin with. Aaron had been in a total bromance with the man since they wrapped filming. But now you had more questions. How did this even come up? How do you organize a threesome? Is this just a normal thing to talk about?

Who the fuck cares? You’re about to have the night of your life. 

You pushed them to the back of your mind, filing them away for tomorrow.

“And I don’t think you met my girl yet officially, but this is Y/N." The introduction forced your legs to start to move again, down the stairs and toward him.

“Geesh… they didn’t make lawyers like this when I was comin’ up. Michael,” he introduced himself. He held out his arms for a hug. “Aaron’s told me so much about you.” 

“Good thin-,” You started to toss your boyfriend a teasing grin as you closed the last couple of feet to return Michael’s hug. However, just as you were in arm’s length, the forgotten vibrator nestled inside you came alive. You let out an involuntary cross between a sigh and a moan that couldn’t be hidden. 

Could the ground open and just swallow me? 

Michael’s eyes glistened with amusement, letting you know he was not ignorant to your reality. 

“You good, baby girl?” he asked, with a knowing grin as you tried to avoid squirming in his embrace.

“Y-Yea, yea. Just h-had a chill. I was just gonna say that I hope he’s t-telling you good things,” you stammered, the jolts of pleasure siphoning off fractions of your vocal ability.

“Only good things, I promise. Just that you were the sexiest and best lawyer he’d ever seen. He was right about the first part, I’m sure he’s right about the second too.” 

“Hardly the best.” Your tone and smile were the picture of humility at his praise. You liked the sound of it on his lips, you also didn’t hate the way “baby girl" sounded when he said it too. 

“Y/N is being hella modest. She’s about to be the youngest junior partner in her firm’s history. And the first black woman.” 

“Aye! That’s what’s up! So we’re celebrating tonight?”

You grinned. “Don’t wanna get ahead of ourselves… just office gossip you know. We’ll see in a week.” 

Fuck, he was sexier than you imagined. Somehow tvs and movies simply didn’t do him justice. Like Aaron, he was at his peak physical weight, his muscles thick and lethal. They both stood in front of you looking like Gods, cut from the most perfect stone. 

“I-it’s just so great to meet you. You’re one of my favorite actors.” 

Michael drank you in like you were the finest glass of scotch, savoring every inch of skin exposed, every curve on prominent display. You felt hot underneath his stare, as if he had xray vision to see the promised lands this dress covered. You almost wilted like a flower under his intensity. 

We aren’t gonna make it through dinner, you thought to yourself. Or I can just be dinner. 

It was not your worst thought by far. The vision was quite enticing. Aaron ordering you to strip for them before displaying you on the table so they could feast on you. Your eyes darkened with clouds of lust. You cleared your throat, taking a deep breath, noting the amused glance that passed between the two men. Were all your thoughts broadcasting to them? 

“We… should go into the dining room. Dinner’s basically ready,” you offered as the lamiest attempt to escape the spotlight of them. You held your hand out for his coat, giving both men a perfect view of your ass as you turned to hang it in the closet. 

You didn’t attempt to hide the grin at the quiet but distinguishable wolf whistle from Michael. It felt good to know he liked what he saw. 

And the feeling was most certainly mutual. Michael and Aaron kept you laughing all through dinner as they enthralled you with stories from set. He was engaging and funny and you loved the genuine brotherhood between him and your boyfriend. There was nothing but raw sexual chemistry between you but that was all you needed. Mutual attraction.

The only disappointing aspect of dinner was the utter silence between your legs. Once he turned it off at the start of dinner, Aaron didn’t touch that remote again, much to your chagrin. Two hours and several glasses of wine at the dinner table with two men gently caressing your arms and exposed thighs was a recipe for disaster. And you knew he could tell, see how worked up they had made you, how desperately you wanted more attention. 

By dessert, you stopped retaining their words. They were utter nonsense to you because there were far more important things to consider. Like Michael’s dominating muscles and large hands, wondering how strong his grip will be when he fucks you from behind. Punishingly so, you prayed. 

You swung between wanting to savor the compliments and worship of two men with needing to be filled, a need that almost had you begging them to fuck you right amongst the dinner plates. But you knew Aaron. The night was young and he liked to play with his prize. 

By everyone’s fifth glass of wine, the conversation started to wind down, Michael getting up to head home. 

“Thanks so much for this, man. Appreciate the invite. Good to catch up n shit.”

“Oh you have to leave so soon?” There was a hint of sadness in your voice, coupled with the pleas of your signature puppy eyes. 

“I probably should… Gettin’ late, can’t take up your whole night.” 

You assessed the moment briefly, confirming with every cell in your body and functioning brain cell in your head that you needed this more than the oxygen in the room. 

So instead of wishing this walking wet dream a good night, you said, “You should stay for one more drink. We got this amazing bottle when we went to the South of France for our anniversary. Baby, we should open it and sit outside? It’s so nice out. We’re down to keep the good times going if you are.” 

“You sure?”

“I insist! Besides, between the three of us, I think we can find some ways to entertain ourselves." The implication in your words couldn't be clearer. You were in and you were ready. 

“I’ll grab that bottle from the cellar. Take Michael outside and make him comfortable, princess. Show him a good time while I’m gone.”

And with that, he turned your vibrator back on. He chose the second setting, which was just distracting enough to make the simple tasks of walking, talking and speaking exponentially harder for you. 

“Yes sir.” 

You forced your feet toward the giant sliding glass doors that led to your expansive backyard. You glanced behind you to find Michael jogging up behind you as he slid something into his pocket.

You tried to distract yourself from the pulses against your g-spot, the growing tension in your belly as pleasure started to build ever so slowly, by turning on the soft string lights hanging above your patio and the speakers to play music. 

“Yall got a great view.” 

“It was definitely the selling point of the house,” you smiled, awkwardly standing behind one of the chairs across from the couch.

His stance was wide, powerful and assured as he stared at you. 

“You gonna sit with me?” When you didn’t move, he sighed. “He said you were obedient. But maybe you just need an incentive…” 

Your knees almost gave out beneath you as he increased the setting to five. 

“If you wanna feel better, I think you should sit, baby girl,” he offered, his voice low and comforting. “I don’t bite, promise.”

The menacing glint in his eyes let you know that he most certainly would bite if asked. And you would most certainly ask. 

“S-sorry,” you awkwardly, quickly finding your way to the couch next to him. You started to sit when he beckoned you closer with a mere gesture of his finger. By the time he had you where he wanted you, you were sitting on his lap. 

You leaned into his chest, your eyes falling closed as pleasure shot through you with every pulsing vibration. You bit the inside of your cheek to avoid moaning. 

“You ok, Y/N? Seem a little flustered?” His fingers created flames all across your bare thigh as he subtly pushed up the fabric of your dress. 

There was still something… tamed about how he touched you and caressed you. He came so close to the spots that demanded a firm strong hand, he held back every time. Like right now. Drawing featherlike patterns on your exposed side, toying with the edges of your thong but not shifting them to the side like you craved. 

No, he simply savored the time teasing you, enjoying the soft moans his touch and the bullet caused. 

“I’... I’m… fine, t-thank you,” you whispered back. “Just… o-overwhelmed.” 

“You wanna cum, don’t you?” his husky voice demanded in your ear. At the sound, you couldn't suppress the moan of pleasure that escaped your lips. You rolled your hips, chasing more.

“Y-Yes…” you whimpered. “P-Please…” 

“How’s my girl treating you, Michael?” Aaron’s voice interrupted their moment, his eyes piercing with desire as you writhed and rode another man's thigh. You looked perfect, unrestrained and free. 

“Oh she’s perfect. You got a great girl here, A.”

“I know… she is. But she disobeyed me earlier so before she can cum, we have to punish her. Isn’t that right, baby?” 

“Y-yes sir.” You didn’t even know what you did wrong but you weren’t going to argue or push back on him. Because this was already like entering a promised land of bliss. To hear him speak so openly about your punishment to another man while he masturbated you on his lap? Aaron was right. This was the destressor you really required. 

“Can you tell Michael and daddy what you did wrong, princess?” 

You raked your brain, knowing that “I don’t know” would only increase your punishment. Not that you would have particularly minded. Frequent punishments were simply the norm for a proud and loud brat. 

And then it hit you, such a small and silly infraction that Michael’s fingers were currently playing with. 

“I… w-wore my panties w-when I wasn’t allowed,” you answered. 

“That’s right. And we don’t cover up daddy’s prize, do we?” 

“No… daddy.” 

“You want to be a good girl for Michael and I… don’t you?”  

His voice was hypnotic. Despite the pleasure disobeying him brought, you could not help but want to please him, to be his good girl again. 

“Y-yes, daddy.” 

“And good girls deserve what?” 

“Punishment before pleasure.” 

“That’s right, baby. So tonight, Michael’s gonna have the honor. How many spankings you think our slut deserves?” 

“I’d say 25… 30?” 

“30 feels fair. What do you think, princess?” 

“Wh-whatever daddy wants,” you whimpered. That was the only acceptable response. Besides, you knew Aaron knew your limits and wouldn’t let Michael cross them.  “That's right, baby girl. She can be good when she wants to, just needs remindin’ of her place sometimes,” he mused. And with that, Michael turned off the bullet, a groan of pure frustration escaping your lips.

Punishment before pleasure, you reminded yourself. Why can’t my punishment be sucking their dicks or something?? 

Michael helped you up, your legs feeling slightly weak after they robbed you of your orgasm. They didn’t bother trying to carry you up the stairs, Michael merely directed you to your deep forest green sectional in the living room and leaned you over one of its arms. He slid off his belt and tied your hands behind your back, ensuring they were loose enough to avoid injury but tight enough not to escape without effort. 

You were deliciously helpless. 

“Fuck, that’s a gorgeous sight,” you could hear Michael mutter as the two men merely stared at you, boobs pressed out due to your hands being bound, your ass high in the air from being bent over. “Her ass is perfect, man.”

“It’ll look even better when you’re done. Don’t hold back. She loves that shit and she knows our safe word.” 

You were glad he assured Michael that you would adore the sweet sting of his palm. You encouraged Aaron to put his entire weight into your spankings when you took on the role as his princess. Forever a gentle soul at his core, he did not like the idea of causing you real, significant pain, preferring to lean heavily into other aspects of dominating you. 

It certainly made you fall more in love with him, witnessing his gentleness and concern for your well-being to such a degree. You supposed it was the greenest of flags that it took about 10 long discussions for him to feel comfortable. And even years later, he still checked in throughout to make sure you still enjoyed it. You weren’t a masochist by any means spankings in particular were more than enticing to you. It left you drenched and on the cusp on an orgasm without Aaron doing anything else. 

Even more so right now with your ass presented to the two men like a hard-earned prize. You subconsciously stuck your ass out further in search of something. A touch, a slap… literally anything. Your body was reeling. 

And you did not even care who was behind you to give you what you needed.

“She’s fuckin’ desperate for it.” 

“Yea, she’ll be begging you for it in a minute. I mean I was gone for what? 5 minutes, princess? And I come back and you're humpin' his leg like a filthy whore? And you loved it didn't you? Wanted more? I bet you wanna beg him to tear that ass up right now, don't you?” 

Daddy knows me too well. Because the word please was on the cusp of your lips, begging to tumble over like water on a cliff. 

You moaned as two hands gripped the firm meat of your ass, kneading and caressing you before they found the helm of your dress. You knew exactly whose hands they were, confirming that Aaron was indeed giving Michael the pleasure of administering your punishment. 

His fingers pushed your dress up the rest of the way to expose your ass cheeks, an unmistakable wet spot at the center of your thong. 

“Don’t think she’ll be needing this anymore. Whatchu think?” Michael asked Aaron as his finger hooked the delicate fabric around her hips. 

“Nahhh, definitely not.” 

“FUCK!” You cried out as your thong was unceremoniously ripped clean from your body, the fabric leaving welts on your skin. 

You felt his fingers graze your lips.

“All this for us, kitten?” 

You merely whimpered an affirmative answer as he presented his fingers covered in your juices. He stuck them in your mouth, you sucking your cum clean off his fingers.

"Can't wait to make you cum all over my tongue, kitten. You taste so fuckin' good."

“P-Please…” You thought you’d implode if you continued to suppress your desperation. Your body felt as if you were betraying her. Why weren’t you trying hard enough, begging loud enough to earn the pleasure you were being deprived of. 

“See?” 

“You weren’t lyin’. Tell me what you want, kitten”  

He’s gonna make me say it?? 

The words were caught in your throat, blocked by a mental barrier to admit such a depraved thought out loud. 

“If you wanna cum at all tonight, I suggest you say that shit. Cause we got all night.” 

The lethal warning in his tone forced your thighs together, an electric shock through your body. He was a natural. And the dominance in his voice was all it took to rip the weeds of hesitation right out of your soil. 

“S-spank me… please,” Half words, half sobs filled the quiet air. This was untenable. Could you die from this? It felt like you might die from this. “I n-need it. P-Punish me… please.” 

The first vicious sting of his hand did make a real sob of joy escape, the sound reverberating through the living room. 

You buried your face in the couch cushion for the first few in a foolish attempt to quiet your mounting screams of pain wrapped in the sweet pleasure. His brute strength ensured you felt the ache of every hit. On par with Aaron when your punishments were severe. You were still feeling it days later. 

Your head pulled back, his fist wrapped around your curls.

“Do that again and I add five. Understand?” 

“Y-yes, yes. I’m sorry,” you moan, keeping your eyes forward and head up. 

You felt familiar hands cradle your head, Michael releasing your strains to play with your slick folds in between each blow. 

Aaron’s body came into view as he held your chin, forcing you to stare into his beautiful eyes. Clouded with lust, you still could see every ounce of his love and devotion. 

“You ok, precious?” he whispered. “Got 10 more.” 

“M-More.”

“You’re such a good slut for me, baby. I love you.” His eyes softened a bit. “You want a treat while Michael gives you your punishment? I wouldn’t usually but tonight is all about you, princess.” 

You licked your lips, the sudden sparkle in your eyes answering his question without words. You were impatient at the pace he went to unbutton his pants. 

He knew how much you loved sucking dick. Genuinely loved it. On more than one occasion, you came home after a long day and immediately dropped to your knees to serve him unprompted. Of course, it always ended up leading to him giving you back the same pleasure tenfold. So it was a win all around. 

You licked the beads of precum from his head before enveloping him into your mouth, moaning around him just as Michael rained down the last of your punishment. 

Fire. Your skin felt hot and inflamed with every bite of his palm against your skin. And they sent jolts of lust straight to your clit. 

“You’re taking your punishment so well. You’re not gonna disobey me again, are you?” 

Strings of your spit stayed connected to his dick as he pulled back so you could answer him. 

“Never again, daddy!”  

“That’s my good girl. You took that so well. Didn’t she?” 

You hissed as he gently massaged your hot skin. Fuck, why did his hands feel so good? 

“She did. You think she’s ready, A?” 

“I think she is.” 

You found a secret joy in the way they spoke only to you to dole out orders, but then talked about you to each other like you were merely a piece of furniture.

Aaron scooped you up in his arms, your body immediately nestling into his chest as he carried you to your master suite. He tossed you on the bed like a rag doll as Michael closed the door to your suite. And for a few moments, they simply stood there. Towering over you, intoxicated by the power and anticipation, they didn’t speak or move. They just watched you squirm beneath them. 

“You know I love you right?” Aaron broke character for a single moment. 

“Of course.” 

“Good. Cause it ain’t gon' seem like it for a minute. You know how daddy wants you.” 

Fuck. Yes. 

There was a challenging grin on your face as you removed the last obstacle to their conquest, leaving you bare before them. With great pleasure, you shifted onto your hands and knees and sank into position. Presenting yourself to him. Vulnerable, exposed. To two apex predators. 

And you were ready to be devoured. 

Michael pounced with such swiftness of jaguar indeed, you suddenly finding yourself straddling his hips. His punishing grip around your lower back kept you flush to his chest as his lips claimed yours. 

Frenzied, animalistic, downright sloppy kisses as you two gave into your most base desires. There was no love here, just lust in its most instinctual level. You two fought for dominance in your kisses, you mainly showing him that you were no damsel.

He moved you with ease, like you were a feather, turning you so your head dangled off the edge of the bed.

“I think our kitten needs a bit of attention.” 

His lips kissed a burning trail down your body, veering off course to engulf each of your nipples in his wet mouth, while his hand played with your throbbing clit. 

You whined, feeling his breath against your sex, his grip holding your hips firmly to the bed to stop you from getting any more pleasure than he decided. 

“So eager.” 

He licked up the wetness that spread to your thighs, still avoiding touching you there. He was a menace. The devil really.

You screamed as he wrapped his lips around your bud, every nerve ending in your body zeroed in on him.  

Aaron guided your agape mouth onto his hard member again, your tongue licking him like he was your favorite lollipop. He exchanged the bullet for his fingers, easing a second one inside your pussy. 

Your litany of curse words were indecipherable with Aaron’s mouth ramming down your throat. He did not let you control the pace one bit. Your mouth was merely a means to an end for him. 

You gagged, tears streaming down your face from the sensory overload of having them work in tandem to bring you pain, pleasure, and everything in between.

You arrived at the cliffs of pleasure far faster than you expected, your body ready to fall for the first time all night. Your thighs tightened around Michael’s head as you tried to control it. Foolish it sounded, to stop the fall. But you couldn’t tumble just yet. 

You didn’t stop your task of sucking to ask. Instead, you simply stared up at him with plea-filled round eyes.

“Cum on his tongue, princess. Cum for daddy.” 

You dove off the cliff with earnest as Michael chose that moment to add a fourth finger, finger fucking you with relentless speed.You let your eyes fall close and surrendered to the crashing waves and thrilling currents that pulled you into oblivion. Right where you wanted to be. 

Only Aaron could find the cherry on top to this already perfect sundae as he spilled down your throat. It was typically reserved for her treat as he knew you adored swallowing. And you were grateful he found you deserving. 

Aaron took a step back, you pouting at the loss of his dick in your mouth.

“Don’t worry, princess. Won’t be your last taste for the night.” He leaned down and kissed you deeply, a soft whimper escaping at how familiar his lips felt. Home. “I think you need to thank Michael for punishing you earlier and making you cum. How do good whores say thank you?” 

"On their knees, daddy."

You moved off the bed and onto the carpet, Michael already sliding off his boxers. Your voice hitched as his girthy thick member sprang from his boxers.

He smirked told her he knew what he was wielding and how to use it well. Admittedly, you had only had sex with three men in your life, two of whom were present. But you felt confident in saying these two Gods among lesser men had the most impressive dicks you’d ever seen. 

You’d never live down the humiliation of your near panic attack during you and Aaron’s first time. 

“I don’t think you’ll fit,” you remember muttering before trying to escape to hide in his bathroom, your brain overloaded with the fear that he would somehow break you. 

But like the perfect gentlemen he was, he held you close and calmed you with sweet kisses and talked you through every inch as he sank into you for the first time. He naturally reached regions you thought were anatomically impossible. You often referred to it as his weapon, one that left you utterly immobile too often. 

Michael was similarly blessed and highly favored. Though he lacked a bit of Aaron’s length, his had a girth to it that you knew would cause a stinging stretch. It would be different and you liked the idea of that. As much as your body wanted to skip to that part, you also were feral for a taste of him. 

Aaron sat in the arm chair across the room, the perfect view to watch as Michael slid his dick between your plump lips. He stroked his dick back to life watching you spit and gulp down his dick.

“That’s right. Fuckkkk. Get it sloppy, baby girl. Fuck your throat feels good.” 

Your body glowed at his praise, Aaron grinning to himself. He adored seeing you in this light, gaining a new perspective to how you felt freedom and pleasure. He never wanted to stop learning how to love you better, please you better. 

Inexplicable pride swelled when your eyes connected with him, your dilated pupils lighting up at his smile.

“You ready for me to fuck that pussy, kitten?” Michael demanded, punctuating each word with a deep thrust into the back of your throat. Attempting to respond was a foolish endeavor with him balls deep down your throat. 

He pulled out of your mouth and lifted you up to your feet, immediately moving you into his desired position. He bent you over the edge of the bed, one hand glued to your hip while the other pushed your head into the mattress. He positioned you so you were staring right at Aaron.  

Being watched. New kink unlocked. You were an actress on display and he was your director, in full control. And it was time to watch his masterpiece. 

Your eyes fluttered out of enticing humiliation and bliss as Michael’s head bounced against your pulsing clit. 

“Eyes open, princess. And on me."

And this was a moment that made you question who you truly were. A good girl or a disobedient slut? The devil on your shoulder didn’t need deliberation time. You were a disobedient whore. You wanted to be utterly spent when this night was over. 

But you also knew he knew that, which is why he picked a task he knew you’d fail either way. You could try as hard as you wanted, it would be impossible to maintain eye contact. 

“You ready for Michael to fuck you, princess?” 

“Yesssss! Fuck me… I need it.” It was as critical to your survival as air. 

You immediately failed at your task, your eyes clenching shut as he pushed inside of you. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!” you hissed, begging for the moment when the lightening flash of pain subsided and pleasure took root. 

“Fuckin’ tight ass pussy on you, kitten,” he gave you a few moments to adjust. When your expletives turned into quiet moans, he moved. 

"Won't tell you this shit again, princess. Eyes open and on me or I start spankin’ you when it’s my turn. And you ain’t gon’ like that shit.” 

“Sorryyyy, dadddyyyyy.” 

His hips snapped viciously into you, his dick curving into your g-spot with every thrust. 

Bliss. 

Joy. 

You panted as  he fucked you with relentless precision, he didn’t let a moment go to waste as he fucked you. His grip along your hip was bruising as he pushed and pulled against your body. Never the lazy lover, you met every thrust, using your arms as leverage to throw your fat ass back at him. 

“That’s it! Take this dick, slut! You like how I’m fuckin’ this pussy??” he demanded, a hard smack coming down on your still aching ass when you didn’t answer fast enough. 

There was no way he actually believed you could form coherent thoughts right now. 

“I… love it! D-... don’t stop! Fuck… I’m gonna cum!” Your eyes had not stayed on your master as they should’ve, nor had you even tried that hard. But you deliberately cast them on him to beg for permission. “C-Can I cum daddy?? He feels so gooddddd…” 

“Why the fuck would I let you cum? You disobedient whore? Can’t follow simple fuckin’ instructions. 

Well shit. He was pissed. 

Your face was one of sadness at upsetting your daddy but everything inside was filled to the brim with glee. You weren’t going to be able to walk tomorrow. And then you could look forward to a day of aftercare and pampering from your love. 

“P-please, please. I-I’m sorry!! I tried. I-I can’t…” Michael was not helping your cause as you pleaded your case in front of a less than sympathetic judge. He found some superhuman ability to increase his already punishing pace, jackhammering into your g-spot. “Let me cum, pleasseeeee! I can’t hold it.” 

“She’s clenchin’ on my dick, brah.” 

You were going to cum either way, inevitably, but you were holding strong for those magic words. Moments before you felt yourself starting to break, you finally heard him.

“Cum for me.” 

“She’s creamin’ on this dick. This some good pussy, my man! You one lucky nigga.” He didn’t slow his pace as he fucked you through your second orgasm. "That's right, cum all over this dick, baby."

How were you not spent yet? No, you still wanted so much more. 

You lost track of your orgasms as Michael moved you into his desired positions, fucking you every type of way that suited him. And all the while, Aaron just watched, commanding your eyes to him in the moments leading up to your orgasms, forcing you to hold his gaze across the dark room. 

You thought the Earth had reversed on its axis somehow. 

“I’ll let you decide where you want it, kitten. On you or down your throat.” 

“Cum on my ass!” 

“Whatever baby girl wants.” He pulled out of you and sprayed your back and ass cheeks with his seed. You sighed out of contentment as you laid there, knowing your night was far from over. But you were grateful for the brief reprieve. 

Michael shifted off to the side as Aaron rejoined you, the Brit studying your ass painted in another man’s cum. If there was a way be any harder than he already was, he would be it right now. 

“You’re fuckin’ gorgeous, princess. I love you so much, you’re such a good girl for me. You ready for daddy, now?” 

You nodded enthusiastically. Michael was amazing but no one fucked you quite like Aaron. Those were the simple facts. 

“Good girl,” he flipped you and pushed your legs up so your knees were essentially up at your ears. 

This was a frankly evil thing to do, to start with this position. It was simplistic but he would pound you so deep, you saw fucking stars. At this rate, you would be tapping out far earlier than you would have hoped. 

“Ahhhh! Yessssss… thank you daddy! Love your dick, daddy!” You screamed as he entered you in one fluid motion, ending deep in your guts. 

“You take me so well, baby. You like how deep I’m fuckin’ this pussy?” 

“Yes, yes! Shit! God I love it! Oh Goddddd, fuck, baby…” 

“Ain’t no God to call out to here, princess. Just your masters.”

You gasped at the sudden all consuming emptiness of him exiting you. You felt his hand catch your ankle, which was still in the air where he left you. He dragged you to the edge of the bed and lifted you to your feet. You almost collapsed on your stiff legs but you quickly realized, he was not intending for you to support your own weight long. 

He hinged you at the waist, your fingertips supporting balancing some of your weight until he reentered you and regained control of your hips. He did all the work, holding all your weight with his strength as he fucked you straight into a sweet abyss. Nothing else mattered. Just the two of you. 

Well… three of you. Speaking of which… as if Aaron could read her mind, he says, “Suck him like the whore I know you are.” 

Using his strength to turn you both so you were eye level with Michael’s dick. He was getting hard, rested and ready for round two with ease. Both men looked as if they could do this all night while you knew you looked like you had been fucked just as good as you felt. 

You surrendered your mouth to Michael, allowing the actor to face fuck you to his heart’s content. And you simply enjoyed every moment of them fucking your holes like men possessed. No breaks, no time for breaths. Nothing. Just unforgiving feral fucking. 

You didn’t bother counting the orgasms they gave you as the two men traded places multiple times, using your mouth and pussy to their heart’s content. They worked up a perfect rhythm that brought you thrilling moment after thrilling moment  

“Don’t run, fuckin’ whore! You been takin’ it all night. Came in here with that fuckin' attitude. Take this dick!” Aaron ordered as you shied away from his forceful thrusts as he fucked you doggy style. 

Your body was being driven past overload as they stimulated every part of you. You could barely concentrate on Michael’s dick in front of your face with how Aaron was fucking you, clearly getting the last word of the evening. 

You thought you knew what overstimulation felt like but you had no fucking idea until today. But you knew the orgasm you were building toward would be your best yet, would be worth every moment of this. 

“Shit, I’m gonna cum!” Michael called out. 

“I’m close too. Daddy’s gonna cum in this sweet pussy, baby. But first, your other punishment. Cum as much as you want.” 

And with that, he and Michael went utterly and completely feral on your body, chasing one goal: their collective simultaneous pleasure. 

Michael grunted as he painted your face in his cum, much of it landing in your open mouth. He collapsed on the bed next to you, your body immediately crumbling forward without him holding you up. He caressed your skin as Aaron mercilessly fucked you, matching every thrust of his hips forward with a harsh slap to your ass. You knew you would have to endure as many as it took for him to cum.

Shit. You really fucked up.

You screamed and squealed, Michael roughly making out with you and sucked and bit your titties as if you needed more. You and Aaron reached the peaks of your mountains at the same time. At the warmth of him filling your pussy, white blanketed in your vision and sent you free falling into a new stratosphere.

Time felt inconceivable when you opened your eyes again. In your mind, no time had passed but instead of being on the bed, you were surrounded by warmth. Warm water lapped over your aching muscles, something hard propping you up from behind. 

“What’s…” you started to say, trying to lift up when a muscular arm snaked around your chest to hold you flush to him. 

“Relax, relax, princess. You’re good. Take a breath. Just blacked on us for a minute.” 

His voice calmed all the uneasy waters of your soul, you were safe and home with him. There was no better place to be in this life or the next. 

“Where’s… our guest?” Your voice cracked from the overuse of your throat. You rubbed your neck instinctively. 

“I’ll make you some tea when we get out,” he kissed your temple. “And he passed out in one of the guest rooms. I may have told him there was a strong possibility you’d be up for another round in an hour or two. Told me to get him when you finish soakin’ so he can give you a massage.” 

And you knew exactly where the yellow brick road of a massage would lead: to the Emerald Fucking City of Round 4.  

Your libido was just as high, if not higher than Aaron’s. More than once, it had been you demanding rounds 4-6 after he already wore you out during 1-3.

“One day you’re gonna get it wrong, you know?” you tease, allowing your head and back to rest with ease onto his chest. His hands massaged your hips and thighs and breasts, all sore from their spanking and biting. “That feels soooo good. You got the magic touch, baby.” 

  You ok, love? We were rough on you.” 

“More than ok. That was the most… insane and fun thing I’ve ever done. Exactly what I needed and wanted. Thank you, Aaron.” 

“Anything for you, princess. Rest for me, love.” 

You allowed your eyes to flutter closed again, dozing in the comfort of your boyfriend’s arms as he continued releasing knots from your muscles. You simply laid there with him, savoring him and the afterglow of being his. 

However, after about 15 minutes, you had rested long enough. This night would end eventually, you wanted to make the most of it with your two daddies. 

“Daddy… I think I’m ready for that massage now,” your eyes glistened with your true intentions, letting Aaron know that you were no close to done. 

He let out a low chuckle of disbelief. “You really are one of a kind, Y/N.” 

“I know,” you winked at him with a playful grin. “Now massage, please.,” you demanded like the spoiled brat you were.

Aaron got out of the bath first, his entire body glistening with water on every perfect panel of muscle and taunt skin. Was it nice being a bead of water sliding down that skin? It might be nice to be a bead of water on his skin. 

He quickly toweled himself off before helping you up, using his arms around you as your legs shook. 

He dried you before laying you back down on the bed, disappearing down the hall while you laid on your stomach and simply waited. 

“Well well well… couldn’t get enough could you, kitten?” 

You heard them before you saw them. 

“No sir.” 

“She’s insatiable. Makes her a good little whore for me, doesn’t it, princess?”

You felt their weight on both sides of the bed. 

“Yes, daddy,” you whined as their fingers started doing the Lord’s work massaging out every knot and kink buried in your limbs. 

You turned your head toward Aaron, reaching up and kissing him softly as a private thank you before laying down again. You closed your eyes and let them work, let them take care of you. 

Whoever said “three’s a crowd” clearly hadn’t met these two.

Tag list: @hxneyclouds @planetblaque @slutsareteacherstoo @theereina @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @apenasumlug4r @motheroffae @blackerthings @kindofaintrovert @thegreatlibraryofalex @melaninpov @hiwasteland @yamst3rdamctrl @miyuhpapayuh @dxddykenn @sageispunk @atribecalledqwest @4pfsukuna @beenathembo @throwmymbackout @nahimjustfeelingit-writes

***

A/N: Hoped you enjoyed that as much as I did! Thanks for reading!

[theereina]

Buy Her Books📚 and Eat Her Pussy🐈

Pairing: Erik "Killmonger" Stevens x Plus Size Fem Black!OC

Wordcount: +1.9K

Warnings: MDNI (18+) mature content, such as cursing, teasing, heavily dialogue-centered, use of Daddy, Mama, and other pet names (lil' mama, pretty girl, good boy, etc.), oral (female receiving), spanking, Dom!Erik, orgasm denial, pure filth

A/N¹: This is a single one-shot with no planned sequels.

A/N²: I'm open to critiques. I am a little 🤏🏽 sensitive about my writing. Please, don't be too harsh.🥺 Feel free to bring my attention to any typos. Divider by @firefly-graphics. Also, this work is not to be plagiarized or reposted (on any site other than here on Tumblr). I do NOT give consent for any form of republishing or rewriting.

Masterlist: 🔥🔥🔥

Of course, Erik didn't know the monster he created. Last night, he had given his girlfriend Amelia his credit card and told her to buy her books. Amelia was immediately struck by decision fatigue. Her TBR list was well over 100 books at this point. When she whined about not knowing what books to choose, Erik told her to buy them ALL. Amelia initially laughed at Erik, not taking a word he said seriously; however, the look he gave her let her know he was beyond serious.

He had given her the card the night before. She sat up all night anxiously going through her TBR. She narrowed the list to 52 must-haves and 67 maybes, not including the 34 she deleted after reading the recent reviews.

Amelia had spent all morning in her favorite local bookstores and Barnes & Noble. She became flustered once she started realizing how much she would be paying. So, she called Erik and asked for his “approval” again. He responded with a laugh and comment about letting her do it again. This had Amelia excited at the thought.

While in the stores, she would first search for the books on her must-haves. Then, she would look for the maybes. She would scan over the synopsis and maybe the first page before deciding. She did this same routine in every store she went into.

After such a strenuous morning, Amelia was exhausted but excited upon returning home. She knew exactly the book she wanted to read first. She had showered and changed back into her nightgown. She climbed onto the bed and searched through the hoard of books. Amelia had tried her best to keep the books separated by genre to help her sort them.

There it was— a book she had wanted since its release five months ago. Amelia was back in her happy place as she lay on her tummy across Erik's bed, facing the headboard. She held the book and began kicking her feet in bliss. She opened the book and began to read the prologue before remembering that she didn't want any distractions. She grabbed her phone and placed it on DND. Tossing her phone somewhere behind her, she began to read again.

4 hours later

Unbeknownst to Amelia, hours had passed. Many hours. Her phone was still on DND, so she was unaware of Erik's 13 missed calls and 8 unread text messages. Unfortunately, she also didn't know he was on his way home.

As Amelia lay reading, Erik arrived at his home. He was pissed. Amelia had ignored him all day. He was a little paranoid about these kinds of situations considering the life he lived before meeting her.

Erik unlocked the door quietly checking for any signs of forced entry. He slowly crept through the house. As he approached the back rooms, the only light visible was coming from under his bedroom door. He could hear what sounded like Amelia laughing, but he was too unsure. He unsheathed his Glock and held it in his hands. As he inched closer to the door, he quieted his steps. Putting his stealth skills to use, he leaned against the door using the weight of his body to stop it from creaking as he opened it.

Awaiting him was an exhausted Amelia. She was facing away from him still completely unaware of his presence. He had always told her she had the self-awareness of a toddler.

He slowly placed his gun into his waistband. Trying his hardest not to startle or alert her to his presence, he crept up to the foot of the bed. He grabbed Amelia's left foot and dragged her to the edge of the bed. “Princess!” Erik says flipping Amelia over onto her back causing the book to slip from her hands. “Erik!” she screamed. She was still unsure how this man could toss her around so easily.

“Busy?” he asked folding his arms across his chest. “Umm…,” Amelia said sitting on her knees at the edge of the bed. She leaned up to give Erik an apologetic kiss. “Where's your phone?” he asked uncrossing his arms.

Amelia turned around and began searching for the phone in the bed. Piles of books were everywhere— an assortment of thrillers, romance, erotica, mystery, fantasy, and more. She knew it was there somewhere. She found it and looked at the screen. 13 missed calls and 8 unread text messages from “Daddy😈”. She turned back around to see Erik cracking his knuckles.

Uh oh

“So, you were reading all day? Is that why you were ignoring me, baby girl?” Erik said caressing her cheek. “Yes, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I just really…” she said putting her hands on his shoulders. “That's unacceptable, and you know that,” he said putting his right hand on the side of her neck. He used his thumb to stroke over the front of her throat., teasing her. Amelia swallowed because she knew what was coming— a punishment fit for his princess.

Erik stood there staring at Amelia's throat. “Where's the book you were just reading?” Erik asked stilling his movements. She pointed behind her to the only opened book on the bed. She was growing anxious by the second. Amelia began to whimper in desperation, trying to craft a scheme to escape this.

Erik's eyes shot up to meet Amelia's now brimming with tears. “Amelia, baby?” Erik lulled. “Yes, Daddy?” she asked hoping this would absolve her of her discretions. Considering that it was an honest mistake, she hoped he would be lenient. “Shut that shit up,” he said in the most level tone. He didn't raise his voice a decibel, but Amelia knew.

“Since you wanna read so much, read to me. I wanna see what's got you so distracted,” Erik said leaning over grabbing the book and handing it to Amelia.

4 orgasms denials later

Amelia was fighting for her life. Erik was eating her out from the back and forcing her to read the book aloud simultaneously. Every time she slipped up or stopped he lit her ass up like a Christmas tree.

His tongue sliding up and down her folds over and over again was driving her insane. She continued to read while breathing out ragged breaths. He was positioned right behind her on the bed. His tongue was warm and slick from her juices.

Erik leaned up and sat directly between her legs. He used his arms to flip Amelia over onto her back in one swift move. She yelled out in shock. Amelia looked down pleading to Erik with her eyes. He scoffed at her attempt to use her puppy dog eyes against him. He sat back and looked at Amelia's sloppy pussy and swollen clit. He took his hand and slid it up and down her slit, coating his fingers in her cum.

He brought his hand to his mouth and began to suck on his fingers. Amelia stopped to stare at Erik in awe. Without even losing focus on his task at hand, he used his other hand to smack Amelia's already swollen clit. “I didn't tell you to stop!” he barked while removing his fingers from his mouth. Amelia tried to continue reading but could feel Erik shifting between her legs.

Amelia turned the page and peeked under the book. She could see Erik's hand lining up with her pussy again. She felt his middle and index fingers slide into her wet pussy with a squelch. She moaned out and clenched her pussy around his fingers. He began to drive his fingers upward against her g-spot. He was merciless while fingerfucking her.

She started stuttering and closed her eyes too caught up in bliss. Erik used his free hand to smack the outside of her thigh. The sound echoed through the room. The thickness of her thighs provided no cushion for the blows he was dishing out. If anything, it was giving him more to work with. Her ass was already obliterated— red, swollen, and covered in welts.

They had been at this for almost an hour because of how well he was dragging out his teasing. She was tired of being denied but knew she held no power in this situation. All she could do was take it.

He leaned over Amelia's body pushing her knees up to her chest. How did he expect her to read like this?

His fingers were still punishing her pussy. He looked at Amelia and began to speak, “I don't hear you!” Amelia tried to read, but she felt like her voice was strained. The way he had her folded in half with his body holding her legs and thighs in place was making it hard to breathe. “Daddy, please. I can't…,” she whined out. “You can, and you fuckin' will. Do you hear me?” Erik said slowing his fingers down inside of her. He knew Amelia's weakness— slow strokes and deep pokes. He was using his fingers to massage her insides. He was kneading her pussy like dough.

Erik's heavy breathing was overshadowed by the sounds of Amelia's moans and her pussy squelching. It sounded like someone was flicking their fingers under a running faucet. Amelia dropped the book on her stomach, and Erik's hand instantly smacked her thigh twice. “Pick…it…the…fuck…up!!!” Erik growled through gritted teeth.

Amelia reached for the book. She tried her best to continue to read as Erik's fingers drove her insane. Erik lifted her left leg and pushed it back against her chest. He angled his body so that he was slightly to the side of Amelia's body. He leaned over and began to suck her clit while continuing to finger her pussy.

The words were leaving her mouth, but she wasn't attempting to comprehend or remember what she read. Erik removed his fingers and replaced them with his tongue. He moved so that his face was right between Amelia's legs. His tongue thrust inside her pussy. “Fuck. I'm… I'm gonna… Oh, I'm ‘bout to cum!” Amelia screamed. “Oh, really? I don't…remember you…askin’ me..for shit!” Erik said in between licks. “May I please cum? I can't take it anymore!” Amelia said her eyes filled with tears. “You betta!” Erik said slapping her clit with his free hand.

That was all it took to push Amelia over the edge. Her legs locked onto Erik as her belly seized. Her juices flooded Erik's fingers as he pushed them back in, leaking all over his hand and down his arm. He opened his mouth and covered her pussy so that he could catch everything. Amelia's moans turned to pained grunts. She was done.

Erik released his mouth from her pussy. He let go of her thick thighs causing them to fall like dead weights onto the bed. Amelia pulled her legs away from Erik and rolled over onto her side. He smacked her ass cheek while grabbing it roughly. “Good girl. You gone ignore Daddy again?” He asked leaning over to kiss Amelia's shoulder. “No, sir,” Amelia mumbled. “That's what the fuck I thought!” Erik replied standing from the bed.

“Get some rest, princess. Daddy's not done with you yet,” Erik said removing his shirt and heading towards the bathroom. “What?” Amelia said, jolting up from the bed. “Dafuck did you just say to me?” Erik snapped spinning around to meet Amelia's weak and apologetic eyes. “Nothing,” Amelia said as she let her head hit the bed again. “Since you got so much mouth, you got an hour. I know exactly what the next punishment is,” Erik said grinning.

Taglist: @kirayuki22 @revealingco @nahimjustfeelingit-writes

[dxddykenn]

I apologize in advance if this isn’t well written. I’m fairly new to writing and wanted to get this idea out of my head after watching The Strangers lol. This most likely will be done in two parts. Feel free to leave any feedback or suggestions - Naiya🤍

Divider by @firefly-graphics

Michael B. Jordan as Erik “Stranger 1”

Aaron Pierre as Terry “Stranger 2”

Method Man as Damon “Stranger 3”

Home. A place that is your sanctuary. Somewhere you can escape from all the problems of the outside world. A place that provides you with a feeling of warmth and a sense of safety. What happens when it isn’t?

It was a late Friday night, the crisp Autumn air blew the fallen leaves along the ground. Freshly showered and skin moisturized you were on the couch catching up on your latest reality show obsession. As you were getting up to refill your wine glass, a loud thud sounded throughout the house. Your movements stilled, waiting to hear the noise again.

*Thump Thump Thump* the noise sounded again coming from the front door.

You glanced up at the clock hung in the living room ‘11:45pm’… strange, you aren’t aware of anyone planning to stop by. Walking to the door you peek through the curtain of the sidelite. You were met with complete darkness aside from the light shining faintly from the driveway.

Opening the door you’re startled by a man standing just below where the porch light normally would shine down. He was dressed in a jacket, dark pants and boots, but you were unable to see his face.

“Can I help you?” you ask him.

“Is…Y/n home”. A chill runs through your body. “I’m sorry?” you question.

“Is…Y/n home” he repeats.

You look at him curiously “Who are you?” you ask.

In return he doesn’t say anything else. Instead, he walks off towards the end of your driveway. Puzzled you reach up for your porch light, noticing that the bulb was slightly unscrewed. Tightening the bulb, you close the door behind you, wondering who the man was and where he came from.

Currently, you were in Georgia where you owned a vacation home that sat on a few acres of land. You were 24 years old studying to become an Optometrist. Between the never ending hours of studying, classes and life in general, you decided that you needed a mental break. Planning to stay for a few weeks you packed up and headed to Georgia. Only a very few people knew that you were leaving, which you preferred, allowing you to disconnect from reality for a little while.

Walking back towards the kitchen, you stop to set your alarm system “Better safe than sorry” you whisper to yourself.

Hours go by and you feel yourself slowly nodding off. Another episode of Reasonable Doubt playing in the background as your eyes grow heavier and heavier. Eventually you fall asleep, unbeknownst to the masked man standing behind the couch.

Three knocks jolt you awake. The man silently walking away, disappearing in the house.

Looking up at the clock again, it’s now 2 am. Getting up you cautiously walk to the front door. Peeking through the curtain of the sidelite you’re met with darkness again.

“What the fuck?” you say to yourself.

Quickly you disarm the alarm and snatch open the front door. Instantly your heart dropped, it was like the events from earlier were replaying all over. There the man was again. Still unable to see his face. Standing in the same spot as before. And the porch light out.

“Sir can I help?” you ask.

This time you notice the roughness of his voice as he repeats the same question “Is…Y/n home?”.

“Why do you keep asking that?!“ you snap.

Once again he just turns away and walks off. Slamming the door you rush back to the couch in search of your phone. Once in hand, you’re suddenly surrounded in absolute darkness.

“You can’t be serious”

Fumbling with your phone you turn on the flashlight, as your heart started to race. Slowly you walk towards the power box. It was located in a closet down the hallway just off of the kitchen. The light from your phone casting shadows along the wall as you moved. Your hand was out in front of you to ensure you didn’t knock into anything. Normally getting to the closet would have taken a few seconds but turned into minutes in your state of panic. Your hand grazes the doorknob rattling lowly. A sigh of relief escapes your lips as you grip the knob.

“Finally” you say as you open the door.

As you direct the light into the closet it hits something. Frowning, you steady your hold on the phone so you could see clearly. The light lands on a pair of boots. Moving up it falls on a pair of dark pants, next a jacket. As the light goes up further it lands on a straw face you jump in fear, when you finally realize it was a scarecrow.

“Y/n get a hold of yourself” you chuckle as you run a hand down your face. Clicking the switches, the lights in the house turn back on. Turning off the flashlight, you close the door turning to walk back down the hall when you smack into something. Stumbling back you grab onto the wall steadying yourself.

“What the-” you mutter.

Inch by inch you look up. The boots. The pants. The jacket. Looking all the way up, you lock eyes with the man from earlier. A burlap sack with two eye holes and a simple smile drawn onto it now covered his head.

A sharp, piercing scream leaves your mouth as you trip over your feet, knocking over a table in the hall. Frantically you run as fast as you could, trying to get to the front door. Snatching it open you’re met with another man. This one wearing a dusty black suit, a doll face mask covered his face and a knife in hand. You staggered back as tears well in your eyes.

“No…No!” you scream as you run towards the garage.

You only make it a few steps when you encounter another man. Towering over you he looked at you wearing a skull mask. A long sleeved flannel shirt and overalls covered his body, carrying an axe.

It felt as if the world just stopped. There were now three men in your house. There was no where to run, no where to hide. You didn’t know where to go or how to get away.

Backing up you go to run when you were grabbed from behind. Instantly you start to kick and scream when you feel a prick in your neck, your vision slowly fading to black.

Groaning, your head feels heavy and your body sore as you wake up. Blinking your eyes you're in a room illuminated by a red light. As you try to move you, you notice that you were suspended off the ground, bound by your arms and legs. That's when you notice three sets of shoes in front of you. Glancing up all three men were standing in front of you, masks still on their faces.

Your body starts to tremble in fear.

The air felt thick and that time was stuck as they just watched you. Breathing. Not saying a word. Just standing there.

All you could do was cry, not understanding why this was happening to you. “Why are you doing this!” you scream out, your voice shaking. The man standing in the middle of the other two slowly leaned towards you. Your eyes locking onto his, he mutters “Because you were home”.

As if on queue all three remove their masks, your breath catching in your throat. All three were breath taking. It didn’t make sense, what did they want?

“I’m Terry” the man wearing the burlap sack introduced himself. “This is Damon” he points to the man who was wearing the dusty suit. “And he’s Erik” he points to the man to the right wearing the flannel shirt.

Confusion was written all over your face as you just stared at them. Damon and Erik chuckle.

“Don’t worry we don’t want to hurt you Y/n” he strokes your cheek. You jerk your face away causing him to chuckle, gripping your throat bringing you back to face him.

“If I were you I would listen” Erik chimes in.

Terry rubs his finger along your bottom lip before speaking “We have a long night ahead of us. You’re going to listen and do what we say if you want to make it to the morning” he smirks before roughly letting you go.

What were you going to do?

[henneseyhoe]

Adonis being clingy with his wife and new baby.

Adonis x BLACK!FEM!reader

WARNINGS: postpartum depression mentions, other baby related stuff

SUMMARY: Adonis trying to be as helpful as he can, but the reader finds it a bit overwhelming while dealing with postpartum depression.

✮✮✮✮

“Pacifiers?”

“Check”

“Burping cloth?”

“Check”

“Bibs?”

“Check. Babe, we have everything. I promise” I chuckle, watching Adonis go through a list of baby necessities on his phone, while trying to calm the whining boy in his arms, the man being adamant on keeping everything where they need to be just for times like this when his son was irritated.

“We have diapers right?”

“Mhm”

“What about wipes?”

“Yes, all in the nursery, Donnie”

“Okay, good, good….you need anything? Thirsty?” He tucks his phone away, rocking the now resting baby in his arms.

“Mmm…water, maybe?” I shrug and he nods, rushing out of the room. He had been acting like this all day, running around the house like a chicken with its head cut off. I hadn’t even been home for two hours yet, just coming back from the hospitals secondary check up after a very unplanned home birth. The house was a mess from two days ago, my poor mother and brother being stressed out of their minds trying to deliver a baby that wasn’t supposed to be here just yet.

Luckily, him coming two weeks earlier didn’t matter and he was healthy as a horse. with the way he was screaming at the top of his lungs, you could tell that was a healthy baby. But, meanwhile I was pushing a 5 pound, big headed baby out of me, Adonis was scrambling to find a flight back to Cali so he could make it to the birth, which was unsuccessful. It took an entire day and some change to get back home, the man so disappointed in himself that he took a business trip so late in my 3rd trimester.

Though I told him to do it, he still felt bad, promising to never leave my side in circumstances like this ever again. The birth went smoothly even though it wasn’t expected, and as soon as Adonis landed, he was blowing up my phone with FaceTimes back to back. And he was completely serious with the ‘never leave your side” thing, cause he was on me like white on rice when he got home. Helping me to and from the bathroom, even though I could walk fine, supplying me with any kind of food or snack I asked for, diaper duty, which was the best perk, and massages.

He was showering me with all kinds of love and affection, but as fast as my high came from giving birth, the lows swooped in just as quick. The 6th day after birth came and postpartum depression came knocking. I was still functioning though. Not cause I wanted to, but because I had an infant now and had no time to dissect why I really felt the way I did.

As more days passed, I became more agitated with my circumstances and Adonis constant ‘bugging’. I knew it was from a place of love, but I needed rest before anything. I was just too cautious to tell him that, afraid I’d end up sounding like a bitch because I wanted a break from my husband for a few hours. Some women would have to beg their husbands to do what Adonis does, but I felt ungrateful because I didn’t have to, and quickly got tired of that because of emotions I couldn’t control.

✮✮✮✮

About three more days had gone by, and it had officially been a month since giving birth. My postpartum depression had subsided a bit, and I felt better about myself, but Adonis was the same, and so was my sleep schedule.

“…can I help you, sir?” I look over my shoulder, spotting my husband watching me intensely. The infant I had in my arms whines and mixes at the sudden movements, unlatching from my nipple for a moment before going right back to feasting. I was reclined in a couch placed in the nursery, praying to god that I could catch some Z’s.

“Huh?” He queries, still staring.

“You’ve been following me around the house like a lost puppy all day. Now you over my shoulder watching me nurse like I don’t know what I’m doing” I say, a bit agitated since I haven’t slept for more than a few hours everyday for the passed month.

“What? I know you know what you’re doing, baby” He completely ignores my other statement, his attention still drawn to my current ‘activity’. I blink at him for a prolonged second, then laughed, shaking my head. “Okay, well back up off my bumper, can you?” I suggest, waving him off with my hand. He sighs, leaning up and walking away. “Your daddy is a bit obsessed, don’t you think?” I look down at our son, his brown eyes fluttering closed as he begins to drift off into his fourth nap of the day.

I close my eyes too, relaxing.

‘Maybe I could sneak in a nap too’

just as I thought I was gonna have peace and quiet, I feel Adonis plop down right besides me, looking over my shoulder. I was in my right mind to lock him in a room now. I sigh, opening my eyes back up to the unpleasant sight of the sun shining through the baby blue curtains across from me. I’d rather see the inside of my eyelids. I was exhausted.

“…he looks like me, doesn’t he?” He pokes, smiling down at his new found pride and joy.

I slowly turn my head to the man, his face being so close to me that our noses touch. “Donnie…get outta my face” I mellowly warn him, ready to run him out of the nursery.

“I’m sorry! I’m just intrigued. I wasn’t there for when he came, I just wanna make that time back” I bite back a loud cackle for the sake of not scaring my son out of his cinnamon toned skin. Snorting, I cover my mouth.

Giving him a ‘be serious’ look with the tilt of my head, I uncover my mouth. “Donnie, please. It’s been almost five weeks since his birth, you came a day late, and it’s not your fault. Be happy you even found a flight that would get you back here so suddenly. Plus, you already made that 24 hours back, now you just being clingy” I say, pecking his lips twice. “It’s just a bit…overwhelming right now, that’s all,”

“I’m not saying it’s you, I’m not not really in a place to…ya know…be as social with you as I was before”

He nods, understanding. “And you know I love you, but sometimes I don’t need anything at all, just silence” Taking in everything I say, he doesn’t argue, understanding that maybe he was doing a little much on the waiting hand and foot, asking me questions at every movement I made.

He caresses my thigh, kissing my forehead. “I’m sorry. I’m really not trynna stress you, I just don’t wanna feel like I’m not doin’ enough, or want you to feel like I don’t care”

I smile. “It’s okay. Just tone it down a bit, okay? Next week I promise you can be as clingy with us as you want” he nods, starting to play with the little mitten that covered our sons hand. I knew he still wasn’t gonna leave any time soon yet, waiting for the baby to stop eating so he could hold him again. I just let him be. For now.

“Does it hurt?” He asks suddenly, and I shake my head. “Not really. It did for the first few times, but since he’s latching better, no”

“…he getting enough, right?”

I pause, my eyebrow raising at the man.

“Yes, my titties produce enough milk for our son. Any other questions, doc?” I ask with playful attitude.

He shakes his head, still looking. It was silent for a moment , only the sounds of summer rain tapping against the window and swallowing followed by shallow sighs from the infant being heard. That was until I decided to put my boob up and replace my nipple with his favorite paci since he had fallen asleep, remembering the doctor told me not to feed him while he’s not awake, considering my milk supply was fine and he gets full fast.

Yet, that still doesn’t stop my husband from breathing down my neck, attempting to reach for him, which I dodge by brushing him off with my shoulder.

Taking a breath, I glare at him. “What, Adonis? You wanna feed him?”

His eyes glimmer with excitement as he smiles, perking up at the simple question. “I can? Yeah” he asks before quickly answering.

“Grow some titties then” I pat his chest then stood to my feet, now attempting to burp the resting baby.

[erikftglitter]

The Piteous Life of Dr. Stevens’ New Wife

Erik Killmonger AU

Created By: Erikftglitter

The Piteous Life of Dr. Stevens’ New Wife

Dr. Erik Stevens leads a life shrouded in silence and solitude, retreating into the shadows of his isolated existence outside the hospital. Haunted by his past and determined to shield those around him from his turmoil, he avoids all human connection. So when middle school teacher and unsuspecting Kari Evans extends an invitation into her world, she unknowingly opens a door to understanding the sadistic nature of Dr. Erik “Killmonger” Stevens.

—

Kari was humbled by most of the comments from married women in her life. A perfect man did not exist and she shouldn’t waste her vital years searching for him. She ought to be somewhat happy with a man and raise a family. Having a hobby or two would fulfill the gaps of unhappiness.

She almost believed that until she was hit by a shopping cart in the grocery store.

“Ow!” She exclaimed. The metal cart had unexpectedly hit the side of her body when she was shopping for cereal. So much for looking for a balanced breakfast.

“Oh my goodness. I’m very sorry.” The man rushed over to Kari and pushed his cart away from her body. She couldn’t even process a response before she felt her shirt being lifted by the man as he examined the damage. What the hell?

“There’s a little redness present and the indentations from the cart should subside within the next half an hour. I’m very sorry ma’am.”

He spoke softly and surely. If he hadn’t hit her a few moments ago he’d have an advantage over the rest of the men in the small town. He helped her off the ground and she didn’t miss the sizable difference between his hands and her body.

Snapping out of her daze by the painfully obvious fact that the man was clearly waiting for a response from her.

“I-It’s alright. I’m okay.” She stammered. It was partially from being flustered by the presence of the man in front of her and partially because she was just face to face with grocery store tiles.

He was perfect. Tall, brownskin, with a build that made her heart flutter. His hair was cut low and he was wearing gold frames that complimented his facial structure perfectly. Her touch starved description of the beautiful man was cut short by his voice.

“I’m Erik,” His eyes never left hers. “Dr. Erik Stevens. Again I’m very sorry for that. I’m a general surgeon at Oregon Medical Center and I’m just trying to figure out what the hell these interns wrote.” He looked down at the white paper in utter confusion and tried to make out the scribbles on the paper. They were definitely living up to the theory that doctors had atrocious handwriting.

“It’s alright.” Kari had enough embarrassment for the day. Being star-struck by a beautiful man in the grocery store after being struck by his shopping cart full of coffee was going to supply enough ammunition for the next year to keep her wide awake at night.

“Well can I make sure that you get to your car safely?” The doctor asked. He was genuinely upset by his actions. It wasn’t like him to multitask and hurt someone. He had always lived by that and he was in the process of teaching his new set of medical students the same thing.

“No, that's okay Dr. Stevens. I’m fine.” Kari just wanted this interaction to stop so that she could curl up into a ball. She was already an anxious adult and it didn’t take much for her to feel overwhelmed. She would just finish grocery shopping another time and at another store completely.

She completely missed how the man drank in her appearance or how his dick jumped at the way she said his name. Erik could just mount the smaller women in the breakfast aisle, but he remained calm. However, his ego was ready to play.

This was an exhausting life for the older man as well. He had started his career in the United States Navy SEALS and practiced medicine in the field. Saving hundreds, if not thousands, of people in the process of his studies. His ability to read people was instinctual and both a blessing and a curse.

Sometimes he longed to be normal. To be able to relate to the other surgeons. To have a wife and kids at home and have simple hobbies outside of work, but Dr. Stevens had a very big problem.

He was not relatable. Not even in the slightest. The Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder that he suffered from made him a permanent victim of insomnia and isolation. After work he worked out, ate, and stayed in complete silence or else his body would not be functional and he would take over again. And he loved to play.

He thought that he was doing a good thing by checking to see if the woman was okay, for heaven’s sake he sees all types of body parts every single day. He was pretty desensitized to anything. He’s not sure what’s triggering the unexpected reunion with him, but he would love it if he went back to hiding.

There was no cure for Erik’s predicament. The Navy created a permanent presence that he could not erase. He was always there underneath the surface waiting to play and Erik just did his best to regulate him. For the most part they were satisfied. He was rich, worked alongside beautiful women that were thankfully married (or else he would’ve probably been in trouble a long time ago), and with the relocation to Oregon he thought that he would have a nice quiet life.

But Kari was triggering him. Maybe it was the clear aversion of eye contact, or maybe the way she gasped and how her lips parted, or maybe it was just the beauty of her existence. Erik and his ego were both in agreement with the latter part and that was never a good thing.

Erik lived in a permanent state of forced celibacy. Between his unexpected reunions with his ego and the way that his PTSD would randomly flare up, his conscious brain felt better about not putting a woman close in his grasp. It had been five years since his last sexual encounter and he fucking hated it. Sure he worked with women and found some attractive here and there, but he was an absolute extremist. If he was not strongly attracted to them then they did not exist. It was not like women hadn’t tried. Some even had the arrogance to imply that he was gay because of his lack of attraction towards them, but the Navy trains you to be a centered being. If he couldn’t control his own dick then he had no business being a trained assassin. Especially being a legally endorsed assassin.

Kari’s voluminous curls were doing something to him. The matching athletic suit that complimented her figure, the doe eyes of pure submission, and her soft spoken voice had his palms sweating. He needed to get away from this woman quickly. But he was too late. Kill was already there and ready to play.

“Well at least allow me to pay for your groceries. I insist.” He smiled at Kari. He watched her face intensely as she debated the offer. This woman was in for it.

Kari continued her shopping as usual. She’s not sure why the gentleman is so persistent about paying for her groceries, but the teacher salary in the small town of Caber City, Oregon was pitiful. Almost as pitiful as Kari. She didn’t expect him to merge their carts and shop together but she’d be a liar if she didn’t admit that the company was nice.

She didn’t have many friends or any for that matter. All of her childhood friends moved out of Caber City as soon as the opportunity presented itself. She had been raised by her grandparents and took care of them both up until their deaths. She lived a quiet life in the big house that they left her. She wondered every day if she should just follow the path of the rest of her coworkers at CC Middle School and just marry someone she went to highschool with.

“You don’t have to be back soon Dr. Stevens?” Kari asked after several moments of silence. Her thoughts were becoming too much for her and she wasn’t home to self-regulate.

“No.” He answered quickly. “Too many hours. They practically kicked me out.” He added. Kari tried to hide the smile creeping up on her face, but Erik didn’t miss the way that her eyes silently confirmed her satisfaction.

“I suppose no wife or children are waiting for you at home then, huh?” Kari was trying not to be painfully obvious at her attempts to know the man a bit better, but if he was going to follow her around and pay for her groceries, then she would feel better if he played into her fantasy. She would probably think about it every day.

“Correct. Long hours are not enough time to get to that I suppose.” Erik replied. That wasn’t a complete lie. Kari nodded. He wondered what she was thinking about. He wondered if she’d been interested or intimidated by him by now. His ego didn’t care either way.

It didn’t take Kari long to finish her list and to help Erik with his. He didn’t mind how long it took, truly. He was more interested in the athletic two piece set that she wore. He wanted nothing more than to rip it off to reveal her stunning figure. The things that he would do to this woman were unacceptable.

Once Erik kept his promise to pay for all her groceries and for their shopping to conclude; Kari almost felt sad. Who was Dr. Stevens really? How could she get to know him more? Oh what hell she had already been embarrassed enough, what’s the worst that could happen?

Erik was fighting a silent battle between himself. He was almost back in control when they left the grocery store and entered the parking lot. All he had to do was load the bags into her car and to get to his car. Then he could take a cold shower and return back to himself and this beautiful woman could return back to hers without his interruption.

“Hey. Why don’t I show you around Caber City sometime?”

Those ten words were enough to make Erik completely lose control. Oh how close you were to being a free woman, he thought silently. With a sinister smile Erik agreed to the woman’s offer.

“I’d love that.”

[nareyacute101]

I Can Give You A Ride

this imagine is inspired by my fav movie from a24 “X” so I hope y’all enjoy!

Erik Killmonger x Black Farmers Daughter! Reader

You were just minding your business on a beautiful Saturday afternoon making some lemonade since you were very thirsty. As you were about to pour you a glass, you hear the the doorbell ring. “Daddy isn’t expecting anyone over” you said while walking to the door.

You open the door to see this fine chocolate man with some blue jeans on with a red and black plaided shirt and some timberland boots.

“Hello ma’am, my name is Erik and my car ran out of gas, so I was wondering if I could use your phone to call someone to help?” The stranger who goes by the name Erik said to you from outside the door. “Oh my goodness, well Mr. Erik I’m not sure if there’s any mechanic shops around her but my daddy is a mechanic and he could try to fix your car” You said while biting your lip innocently but sexy. “Okay, will he be able to fix it right now before dark?”

You thought for a second before smirking with an idea to keep him here “My daddy is out of town right now to do something supposedly “important” but…I could give you a ride.”

“Okay thank you so much, so where’s your car?” Erik asked your concerned. “Oh, I don’t mean that kind of ride sir.” You said pulling him in the door and touching his chest. “So, what kind of ride are you talkin-” he cut himself off know what she was talking about “Ohh, yeah I would definitely love that ride, ma” he mocked the same smirk you had on your face. “Well, let’s go to my room so I can help you out” you walked him up the stairs to your room, feeling his gaze on your ass.”

“FUCKKK!” You yelled while bouncing up and down on Erik’s dick. “Yeah, you like this dick huh Princess?” He asked while looking at you and your bouncing tits. You nodded to his question “No baby, I need words” he smacked your ass and you squealed “Yes, omg your dick is so big” you leaned your head back from the pleasure that you were getting from his long, curvy dick.

“Fuck, I can’t leave from this tight wet pussy” Erik said while getting ready to hold you and thrust up really fast. “FUCKFUCKFUCK” you screamed from the sudden thrusts up your pussy. “What’s my name babygirl?” “DADDYYYY! OMG IM GONNA CUM” “Me too baby, now who’s pussy is this?” Erik kept going to meet his and your climax “This your pussy daddy, please make me cum!” Erik thrusted three more time before you both grunted after reaching your climax.

“So, was that the best ride you’ve ever had Daddy?” You asked in a sweet voice “Hell yeah princess. Now, when is your dad coming home?”

You shrugged your shoulders “I don’t know but maybe in a few minutes, why?” You asked him. “Well one, I wanna try to get home before dark and two maybe we can do another round before he gets home” he licked his soft plump lips while looking at you up and down.

“Lets do it Daddy” you smiled while being rolled over by Erik and having a heated make out session.

I’m sorry y’all had to read thee worse sex scene ever but I tried okay 😭

[whorhees]

Ghost from your past {Creed III}

Adonis x wife! oc x onesided! Dame

Description: Spoilers for Creed 3. Jade, Adonis, and Dame were all friends when they were teenagers. However, things changed when they all grew apart. Adonis and Jade were able to rekindle their love for each other and even start a family, they get revisited by a ghost that they’ve been trying to forget about.

Authors note: I’m mentally ill for these men so I wrote more self indulgent shit. I’m gonna see how many chapters I can string out, it’s pretty weird that I’m going in reverse anyways but who cares.

{face claim @/aerincreer on Instagram}

Jade sat in her window, staring out at the street.

It was about nine pm, and nothing good happens on the streets of LA past eight. But she was waiting for something, more like someone.

Just then, the lights of a car slowly pulled into view and stopped in front of her house. She grins, leaving her window seat to go downstairs. She tip-toed past her father sleeping on the couch and walked out the front door. She had to push open her gate so it wouldn’t make a loud noise if she punched in the code. Afterward, she ran up to the car and leaned in the roll-down window.

“What you sneakin' around for shawty?” Dame grins as he stared at the light skin girl. “I was just comin' by and seein if you were up. Don’t you got class in the morning?” “Both of y’all got class in the morning” She props her arm up on the window, glancing over at Adonis. He was always nervous to talk to her, even after all these years. “Hey Donnie, why so quiet?” The boy cleared his throat, shaking his head. “That’s funny coming from you. Didn’t you just start learning how to talk?”

Jade rolled her eyes. “Yeah, six years ago. Shut up. Where y’all rolling off to?” “My match,” Dame says proudly, tapping the bag that Adonis had on his lap. “I’m ready to win baby” “Ooh! Can I come? Please?” Jade smiles, leaning towards the back seat. “You said one day I can see your boxing matches, come on Dame!” “Nah Shawty” Jade frowns, her bottom lips forming into a pout. “Why not? C'mon, you promised!” “I know I did. I keep my promises baby, You’ll see me. Check it” Dame fully turns towards her, placing his hand on top of hers.

“You’ll see me, my face plastered everywhere. My name on them announcement posters like Mike Tyson, and, you’ll be there front row when I beat his ass. You and Donnie” Jade’s smile began to grow on her face. Her head cocked to the side, “You better not be lying. Because I still think it’s unfair that I can’t see you fight” Jade backed away from the car, “I’ll see you guys tomorrow”

“Bet. The same spot as always” He nodded, putting the car in drive. “Now sneak back into your castle Rapunzel” Jade flipped Dame off before sneaking back into the gates, locking them behind her.

Adonis looked at Dame, nearly having stars in his eyes. “..Cause one day, I’m gonna save you” He pulled away from Jade’s house and went into the main road. “You like her?” Adonis asked, staring out the rearview mirror. “…Something like that.” Dame turns to his friend and grinned. “When I make it, I’ll do my thing with you, bro. Scoop out some ladies, then settle down with her.

I have it allll planned out”

“Come on Honey and Blue” Jade walked out with dry towels as the twins climbed out of the pool. She promised them that on the first warm day, they could do so, but it was drawing close to the sun setting. “Your dad is going to be home soon” Blue removes his goggles. “Will I get to show him my picture I made today?” “Of course, after you take a bath” Blue grins and ran into the house to a bathroom. Jade turns to her daughter, quiet like always. She signs to her.

‘What’s wrong?’

Honey glanced at her, shaking her head. She moved closer to her mother and leaned into her. Now she got it, she missed Adonis. That’s all. “Don’t worry, he’ll be home soon” Jade picks up the little girl and took her to the bathroom.

Hours passed and Adonis wasn’t home, it was weird. He would usually call if he was going to be at the gym late. She sat on the couch with the twins, watching Blue’s favorite Tv show while honey curled up next to her. The front door finally opened and Jade stood up. “I’ll be back, Blue watch your sister” “Okay mama”

Jade walked down the steps to the front door, her arms crossed. “And where were you?” Adonis turns towards her, a smile on his face. “Baby-“ “I called you multiple times Adonis. You had me worried sick!” Jade playfully smacked his arm. “You aren’t gonna believe who I ran into” Jade tilts her head, her eyebrows knitted together with confusion. “Who?”

“Man…This place is nice…” Jade peered passed her husband, her arms dropping to her side and her eyes widened. “What’s up lil lady?” “Dame…?” He smiled, walking passed Adonis. “At least someone remembered me first. No bullshit” He held his arms out, looking at the woman. “What? No hug for me?” Jade had conflict in her eyes. “Yeah, of course!” She hugged the man, it was strange. Seeing him after all these years.

“And who are these little rascals?” Jade’s eyes snapped open and she pulled back from the hug. She turned around and stared at the twins who stood there, Honey held her brother’s hand who greeted the stranger with a hard unwelcoming stare. “Oh, Dame. These are the twins, Honey and Blue” “Twins…y’all had twins?” Dame crouched down to the height of the children, extending his hand. “Im Uncle Dame”

Blue looked at his parents, his glare didn’t falter. “You’ll have to forgive them. The twins aren’t too fond of strangers” Dame chuckled and stood back. “It’s cool, I would be lookin at a nigga weird if someone I aint know was in my house” Jade glanced at Adonis before walking over to the twins. “It’s bedtime babies, I’ll be up soon okay?” Jade moved Blue’s face gently to look at her. “Okay?”

“…okay” Blue took Honey’s hand and lead her to their shared bedroom.

“How is it possible that they both like you and Adonis? That’s just crazy” Dame turned back to the couple that stared awkwardly at him. “Dame, how have you been? Would you like some dinner?” “Oh please, I would love to” Dame took off his jacket and placed it on the coat rack near the door. “I’ve been cool, Just got out. Tryin' to get my PO off my back” “That’s good…” Jade led the two men to the kitchen, and the chef was finishing up the meal. “Yeah, how have you been Jade?”

“I’ve been okay” Jade moved to put the plates on the table for the three of them. “Got your modeling career off the ground? I had all your shoots when I was in the pin” Jade sat beside her husband. “Did you? I always look at my early work and cringe a bit” “Nah, you still look as good as the last time I saw you” Dame watched as the chef poured the food onto his plate. “Private chef, glass floors…yall really went all Hollywood huh” Adonis chuckled and reached for his fork. “Yeah, I guess you could say that”

“No really, you guys don’t come around the hood no more.” Jade sighed as she picked with her food. “Nothing is for us there anymore. Times changed Dami” Dame smiled, pointing his fork at the girl. “Not long enough if you still callin' me Dami. It’s fine”

It was a long awkward silence, mainly on Jade and Adonis’s part. They didn’t know what to say to the man, he felt like a stranger again. The boy they grew up with, someone they just locked away and tried to forget about…he’s here in their house. “So, what do you plan on doing now that you’re out?” “I want to get back in the game” Jade rose her eyebrow. “The game…As in boxing?” Dame smiled. “Yeah, Adonis promised to put me on”

Jade side-eyes her husband quickly. “Did he…” “I told him I’ll see what I can do” Adonis corrected them, stuffing his face full of food. “Okay,” Jade pushed her plate away. She suddenly lost her appetite but she decided to look at the two men. “You know you can always come to us if you need something” “You don’t need to worry about me, Jade. I’ll get it all together” Jade stood up and gave Dame another hug before going upstairs to check on the kids.

~

Jade sat on the edge of the bed biting her thumb, she couldn’t sleep. She was on edge, her heart ridden with guilt. The door creaked open and she turned her head, Adonis stood in the doorway. “Hey,” He came over and sat beside her, leaning his head on her shoulder. “God I feel so horrible” She mutters quietly. “I stopped writing him a few years ago around the time me and you were getting together, I just couldn’t-“ “Hey, Hey” He grabbed her shoulders, making Jade look at him.

“It’s not your fault…You did more than me” Adonis kissed her forehead. “I never even got any of his letters.” Jade took a deep breath and nodded. “Alright…What did you promise him?” Adonis rubbed the back of his head. “Dame wants a shot in the world league to get the belt” “What?” Jade said astonishingly. “We’re getting old, even you are retired! Dame wouldn’t even have a shot against half those young guys now” “Way to have faith in him” Adonis chuckled. “Faith? I’m being real.” “The man said he kept himself in shape, so we can see”

Jade fell backward on their bed, sighing. “Just…Don’t do anything you’ll regret. You…We don’t owe him that much just because we knew him” Adonis stared at his wife as she pulled the blanket on herself. “At least, that’s what I’m trying to tell myself. I’m gonna come by the gym tomorrow to see so myself” Adonis kissed her forehead, stroking her face. “It’s going to be okay…I’m going to check on the kids” Jade snuggled deeper into the blanket. “Mhm…Okay”

Jade tried to fall into a deep sleep, but her thoughts couldn’t help but linger on her old friend. I don't owe him anything, she tried to convince herself. He made that decision by himself, she reminded. But god, it didn’t help her from feeling less bad.

[noirsfantasy]

On the first day of Christmas...

𝔄 𝔇𝔢𝔠𝔢𝔪𝔟𝔢𝔯 𝔗𝔬 ℜ𝔢𝔪𝔢𝔪𝔟𝔢𝔯

𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤 ➛ Actor!Michael B Jordan x OC!Naomi Samuels

𝔯𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤 ➛ Fluff

𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱 ➛ 4.2K

𝔰𝔶𝔫𝔬𝔭𝔰𝔦𝔰 ➛ Returning home for the holidays, 29-year-old successful artist Naomi Samuels from New York finds her trip taking an unexpected turn. Things take an exciting twist when her brother Daniel arrives, accompanied by none other than the renowned actor Michael B. Jordan. As the next few days unfold with this unexpected guest, Naomi's holiday promises to be anything but ordinary. What adventures await in this unexpected reunion?

𝔞/𝔫 ➛ I'm gonna be honest, this story has me really excited. When I tell you I love Christmas, it's real. I want y'all to know that I fully intended this story to sound a bit hallmarky, so please bare with me. It gets good ;)

12 Days of Christmas Masterlist

Part 2 Here

The Samuels family's Christmas is always a hit. Family comes from all over down to the small town of Leavenworth, Washington just to gather together for this holiday. This is where my grandmother and mother lives, keeping the roots strong. Although, we haven't really had a big family Christmas since before COVID hit, so this one is bound to be special.

Just a week ago, I completed a project for a high-paying client, affording me the luxury of having the entire week before Christmas off. Usually, I am booked up to my ears at this time, so I am grateful for the vacation. I got to the house late last night, and so far, only a handful of aunts, uncles, and a few younger cousins had arrived. As the sole young adult present, I find myself shouldering the full force of our family's 'charm'.

I wake up early this morning in my old bedroom, starting my day with a warm shower. Once I'm dressed and freshened up, I head downstairs, hearing some chatter. I greet my grandmother, who is on the couch, watching her shows. She is always excited to see me.

"Good morning, Grandmother." I say with joy as I give her a warm hug.

"Oh, my beautiful Mimi." She calls my childhood nickname, her hand reaching out to cup my cheek with a gentle tremor. "You are turning into such a beautiful and remarkable woman. I can't tell you how proud of you I am." Her eyes reflect pure love, and I can't help but return her smile. The connection between my grandmother and me is unique, given that I am her first granddaughter.

"Thank you, Grandmother. I'm so happy that I could get to come see you. I know I haven't been around as much since I moved to New York for work," I admit, a twinge of guilt behind my words.

"Don't you worry about that, dear. You're here now, and every moment with my grandbaby is a blessing," she reassures me warmly. "I think your mom and aunts are in the kitchen preparing breakfast. Why don't you go in and see how you can help?" She suggests.

With a nod, I rise from the couch, placing a tender kiss on her cheek before making my way into the kitchen. As I enter, the lively banter of my mom and aunts fills the air, mid-gossip in the midst of breakfast preparations. I'm embraced by the scent of bacon and brewing of coffee. The women pause their gossip for a moment, shifting their attention to me.

"Well, look who decided to get up bright and early!" My mom exclaims, giving me a quick embrace. "Here, you take over the bacon for me. I need to get started on the pancakes," she adds, directing me to her spot at the stove. My aunts greet me with a cheerful "good morning" before seamlessly resuming their conversation with my mother.

The kitchen was bustling with activity, filled with the savory aroma of the many dishes being cooked. The Auntie's hands are kept busy as they catch up on the latest gossip and I snicker to myself as I focus on my task. The house starts to wake up as I hear my little cousins stomping down the stairs, their childish giggles over the chatter of the rest of the family.

I'm lost in my thoughts when my attention is abruptly diverted by an unexpected question from Aunt Pat, who's currently cooking the eggs.

"So, Naomi, you got a man yet?" The other ladies in the kitchen fix their gaze on me, awaiting my response. I stammer for a moment but then decide to keep it light.

“Well, no. I’m not really focused on that right now,” I reply with a shrug, hoping they’ll drop The subject. They don’t, of course.

“Come on now. You not getting any younger.” Adds my aunt Tina. My mom gives them a disapproving look as she closes the fridge.

“Y’all, leave my baby alone. It is too early for this.” Mom defends, but they roll their eyes.

“We’re just chatting, Angie. Besides, don’t you want some grandbabies?” Tina asks, Aunt Pat nodding in agreement.

"Naomi can wait for the right man as long as she needs. Better that than popping out babies without a ring," my mom subtly throws shade, her lips pursed. Aunt Pat raises an eyebrow.

“You tryna say sumn, Ang? Cus' whoever I think you're talking about has definitely gotten married since.” She says matter of factly. My mom ignores her.

"And Tina, don't start on Mimi, what about Ashanti? She still don't got a man either. And she 'bout the same age as Naomi." My mom adds.

"My Ashanti is a famous and successful model. She is busy building her life right now and taking care of her business. Besides, she's seeing someone," Aunt Tina states, turning her nose up. Sensing that my mom is about to say something else, I decide to intervene.

"Let's all calm down. I don't have a man, so what? It's not the end of the world. And, for the record, I have a successful career as well," I declare, raising my hands in defense. Aunt Tina's comment lingers in the air like a passing storm, briefly unsettling the familial calm.

"Just saying, you're almost thirty. Time to settle down. And I'd hardly call those cute little drawings you do a successful career," she persists, earning a disapproving look from my mother. I clench my jaw, determined not to let the remark sting.

"But we'll drop it," Aunt Tina announces, attempting to change the subject. The kitchen regains its lively atmosphere as they return to their culinary duties. My mother shoots me an apologetic glance, understanding the delicate nature of the topic, but I reassure her with a soft smile. I've grown accustomed to my family's concerns about my love life, even if their ideas of success differ from mine.

"Where is Teresa, anyways? And James? I saw the kids last night, but I haven't seen them." I ask, looking at my Aunt Pat.

"Oh, they're upstairs sleep. They really got a handful with them kids." She explains, shaking her head. I laugh a bit.

"Well, it seems like I'm not the only one who needed this vacation. Hopefully we will all get to relax." I let out a sigh.

"Well, don't you worry, none. Ashanti will be here any moment! I know y'all always have a good time together." Aunt Tina says. I look at her out of the side of my eyes and give a fake smile.

"Oh, I'm sure we'll have lots of fun." I respond, trying to hide the sarcasm in my voice. As they chop, stir, and laugh, I find myself wondering what's to come of this trip. My thoughts go back to what my aunts said about my love life.

Even though I'm almost thirty, I've never been one to go searching for a man, much less settle for less than I deserve. My art, my "cute little drawings," as Aunt Tina put it, is not just a hobby—it's my passion. And while it may not fit the conventional definition of success in their eyes, it brings me fulfillment and joy. And I want that when it comes to love as well.

As I plate the last pieces of bacon and turn away from the stove, my phone rings. It’s my brother Daniel.

“Hey Danny.” I greet as I walk out the kitchen.

“Naomi! You already at mamas?” He asks me.

"Yeah, flew in last night. We're about to have breakfast," I reply.

"Bet, well, I'm on my way there, about nine hours out. Been on the road for a while. Just calling to let you know I'm bringing a guest." My interest piques, and I raise my eyebrows.

“Oh? Is it a girl?” I tease. I can almost feel him rolling his eyes at me.

“No, it’s not. It’s one of my colleagues who needs a place to be for Christmas, so I offered to let him come.” Daniel explains.

“Oh, okay. Just a heads up, the aunties are already in my business so make sure you got your shit together.” I share a laugh with him and, over the sounds of the road in the background, I can barely make out a second laugh. I choose to ignore it.

“Who knows, maybe my guest can help you get your shit together if you, uh, catch my drift.” He teases. I roll my eyes in return and give a sarcastic laugh.

“This is not about to be you tryna hook me up with one of your friends again. We both know how that ended up last time.”

“I know, I know. Don’t worry, it’ll be none of that, I promise. But don’t tell anyone I’m bringing someone. I want it to be a surprise.” He tells me.

"Sure, secret's safe with me," I respond, curious as to who he could be bringing.

"Alright, I'll catch you when I get home. Hopefully, everyone will still be up." He chuckles and I laugh along as well.

"Yeah, we'll see. Drive safe. See you when you get here." I say, before ending the call. As I hang up with Daniel, I can't help but wonder about the mysterious guest he's bringing. Returning to the kitchen, I start setting up the table as the delightful aroma of breakfast fills the air. Yet, my thoughts persistently drift back to the impending surprise.

A rhythmic knock echoes through the house coming from the front door, which promptly swings open.

"I'm hereeeee!" All of us in the kitchen pause to glance toward the entrance as my cousin, Ashanti, strides in. Draped in a fur coat and chic heeled boots, she's come with numerous bags.

Smiles light up the room, and everyone rushes to welcome her with hearty hugs. I hug her as well, but it's a bit stiff. Shanti and I grew up together and we used to be very close. But somewhere along the line, she started competing with me and it put a rift between us.

Amidst the flurry of greetings, I catch a glimpse of Ashanti's perfectly styled hair and the air of confidence she exudes. Despite the awkwardness between us, I manage a genuine smile, hoping that the holiday spirit will bridge the gap that has quietly settled over the years.

As the family gathers around, Ashanti unveils a cascade of presents from her bags. "Gifts for everyone!" she announces, and the room erupts with excitement. The children eagerly approach, but she urges them to wait their turn. The tension between us momentarily fades as the joy of the holiday season takes center stage. The gifts she gives are lavish and luxurious. As everyone gets their gifts, she saves the last one for me.

"And last, but certainly not least, this is for you, Naomi." Ashanti hands me a neatly wrapped gift. I smile and open it, eager to see what is inside. While I had no specific expectations, what I got is far from what I had expected. As I tear away the paper, I find myself holding what appears to be a Dollar Tree sketchbook, lacking the quality I might have hoped for.

"Oh, a sketchbook..." I attempt to conceal my disappointment, realizing she intentionally chose a less-than-impressive gift.

"No need for thanks! I just knew you'd love it. You know, with your little artsy thing you got going on. I figured it would be a perfect gift," she says, offering a feigned smile and a hug. Despite having plenty of similar sketchbooks, I decide not to grant her any satisfaction, accepting the gift graciously.

The room is still buzzing with the cheer of the holiday festivities, and as I hold the seemingly ordinary sketchbook, I take a deep breath, reminding myself that the value lies in the gesture rather than the material itself.

I manage a polite smile, masking any traces of disappointment, and reply, "Thank you, Ashanti. It's thoughtful." She beams, seemingly content with her choice of gift, and the tension between us lingers beneath the surface.

The following hours whirl by in a flurry of activity. I spend most of the day hanging out with my younger cousins, keeping them occupied while everyone else relaxes. It's a great feeling to be home and around my family once again, no matter how old I get.

There are a couple gifts beneath the tree and the fireplace blazes brightly. Grandmother, nestled in her recliner by the fireplace, skillfully crochets a blanket and my uncles huddle around the TV to watch a football game. Mom has just set out hot chocolate for the kids, while the aunties are talking with each other in the study. Ashanti is upstairs, probably on her phone or something. Meanwhile, I find myself on the couch, sketch pad in hand, allowing my creativity to flow.

The sun has dipped below the horizon and a flurry of snow blankets the world outside. I glance toward the window, crossing my fingers that the roads won't freeze over and that Daniel and his mystery guest will arrive soon. The children steal the TV, watching some cartoons while a few of my uncles head onto the porch for a smoke. This calm is one I've longed for over the years—it gives me a sense of nostalgia, sending me back to the carefree days of my childhood.

My cousin, Teresa, who was asleep all day, comes downstairs and sits beside me. I smile as I look up from my sketches at her.

"Hey, cuz!" She says, giving me a hug.

"Hey, you slept good?" I ask, giggling a bit.

"Girl, yes, it was MUCH needed. You really don't understand how much you miss naps until you have children." She sighs heavily and I nod sympathetically.

"Yeah, I figured when I saw James come down here and not you, you were still getting your rest." I say teasingly. Teresa rolls her eyes.

"Hey, those beds are comfortable." She retorts, defending herself.

"Well, at least now you get a break, right? You got some help." Teresa sits back and nods.

"I'm so glad to just be here. It's been a while since we were able to take a trip like this."

"Something tells me that this trip is gonna be one to remember." I say, mostly to myself.

"Well, I guess we'll just have to wait and see." Teresa says, before standing up and heading to the kitchen.

As time goes by, I hear the doorbell ring again. I remain seated, engrossed in my drawing. Mom answers and her sudden loud exclamation echoes through the house as she lets the visitors in. Intrigued, I look up from my sketches, wondering who it could be. I get up and walk over to the door, first seeing my big brother standing there. He's smiling widely as he sees the shocked look on Mom's face. However, as I approach, I see who she's really screaming about.

There, standing beside Daniel on the doorstep is none other than famous actor Michael B. Jordan. My jaw drops in astonishment as I can't believe my eyes.

"Danny, what is this? You didn't tell me you were bringing a guest!" She exclaims, the unspoken emphasis being, 'You didn't tell me that you were bringing Michael B. Jordan!'

"Just thought I'd surprise you, Ma. And Michael, here, didn't have anywhere to stay for Christmas. So I invited him to stay with us for the week. Is that alright?" He asks, sporting a sheepish grin. My mother stammers for a moment, caught off guard by this surprise. She glances at Michael, who presents her a giftwrapped bottle of expensive-looking wine, flashing that gorgeous smile of his. Still in shock, she stammers as he hands her the gift.

"Merry Christmas, Mrs. Samuels. I hope I'm not intruding too much." He gives her a hug, giving her a squeeze. My mother, still processing the surprise, hugs him back, her eyes gleaming with disbelief.

"Oh, you're not intruding at all! Well, welcome to our home, Michael!" She starts as he lets go of her and stands in the doorway. "We're honored to have you join us for Christmas."

"The honor is all mine." He responds. By now, news of Michael's arrival has spread through the house. Danny brings him in, brushing snow off of himself, and I catch his eye. He winks at me knowingly as our family rushes to greet Michael and take pictures. I smile and shake my head at Daniel. It seems his "colleague" was quite the understatement. My little cousins jump excitedly at meeting the man who played Killmonger and my aunties and uncles are chatting to him loudly, talking over one another.

I watch all the commotion with a smile, when I lock eyes with Michael. He looks as if he is gonna approach me, but he's stopped by Ashanti.

"Hi, my name is Ashanti! You look like you need a drink." She says, before grabbing his arm and leading him away from the lively group. I suppress a sigh of awkward disappointment as she shoots me a mischievous glance over her shoulder. Just then, Daniel drapes an arm around my shoulder, steering me toward the study for a chat.

"Daniel!" I exclaim in a hushed tone as a cheeky grin plays on his face. He simply shrugs, not making a response. "Daniel!" I repeat, this time playfully socking him in the arm with an excited smile on my face.

"Surprise?" He offers, having anticipated my reaction.

"How the hell did you manage to get Michael Bakari Jordan to come to the Samuels household?!" I try to contain my excitement, but my words come out with an unintentional squeal. He laughs, feigning pain as he clutches his arm.

"It's like I said. He didn't have anywhere to be for Christmas. I didn't tell y'all, but this last project I was working on was with Michael and it was set to go into the Christmas holiday. Luckily, we ended up finishing early. Michael had tried to plan ahead and sent is parents and siblings on a Christmas cruise so they'd still have a good time. Well, during the project, Michael and I talked frequently and he mentioned not having anywhere to go, so I invited him to come here." He explains. I'm still in disbelief.

"This is insane. I never expected you to actually bring him. And he's staying until Christmas?"

"Yep, so he gets the full Samuels family experience for the holidays. But, you should go out and meet him yourself, Mimi. Knowing Ashanti, she's probably talking his ear off by now." He pats my shoulder, and I take a deep breath before stepping out of the study.

My heart is racing in my chest as I walk towards the kitchen. I've been a fan of his for the longest and now he's in my house. I'm trying to think of what I'd say to him. I find myself, instead of going to meet Michael, pacing around the dining room away from everyone else. I'm not usually this nervous or shy. But something about this man just makes me go crazy.

"Come on, Naomi," I say to myself, rubbing my palms on my jeans. I pace a bit more before I shake my head at my ridiculousness. With another deep breath, I head out of the dining room and towards the kitchen once more. There Michael and Ashanti are sitting at the bar, engaged in a conversation. It looks as if Ashanti is just talking about herself and her many accomplishments while showing him her photos. As I get closer, Michael glances over and notices me, giving me that famous smile again.

"Hey, Michael..." I start, and he watches me, waiting to hear what I'm gonna say. I decide to just go for it. "Mind if I steal you away for a bit?" I bite my lip, avoiding Ashanti's eyes as she glares at me. The corners of Michael's mouth turn up as the sound of my voice reaches him.

"Well, actually, Nao-"

"Yeah, I don't mind." He interrupts Ashanti as he stands, grabbing his glass . "Thanks for the drink, Ashanti." He says, but she rolls her eyes as she watches us leave. We make our way to the upstairs common area and sit on the couch. Michael sits a bit close to me, draping his arm along the back of the couch as he gets comfortable.

"You know, I was just looking for an excuse to take a break from her," He says, leaning into me. "Thanks for rescuing me." I laugh a bit at his words.

"Well, I'm happy to help. I'm always willing to answer the call of a damsel in distress." I joke, trying to break the ice. He chuckles a bit.

"It looked that bad, huh?" He replies and I nod, overexaggerating it a bit. "Well, then I guess that makes you my knight in shining armor." He grins charmingly and I have to stop myself from melting.

"Ah, where are my manners. I'm Naomi, Daniel's sister. I would've introduced myself sooner, but you seemed a bit busy." I laugh nervously, struggling to sit still under his gaze.

"So you're this troublesome Mimi I've heard so much about?" Michael questions and I freeze, blushing in embarrassment. There's no way Daniel really told him about my nickname. I regain my composure and clear my throat.

"First of all, I don't know where this troublesome idea of me came from, cuz it's definitely not true." I retort, playfully turning my nose up.

Michael grins, his eyes filled with amusement. "Hmm, I don't know, Daniel talks about you quite a bit and based on his stories, you seem pretty troublesome to me." He leans back, a playful glint in his eyes as he observes my reaction. "But don't worry, I'm all for a bit of trouble."

I chuckle, feeling a bit more at ease with his easygoing demeanor. "Well, if that's the case, I hope you're ready for the full Samuels family experience. We're a handful, but it's all in good fun."

"So, Naomi," Michael begins, his eyes gleaming with curiosity, "Aside from being a troublemaker, Daniel tells me you're an artist."

I playfully roll my eyes at the "troublemaker" label. "Oh, yes, it's my favorite thing to do. I love to draw, paint, you name it."

"What would you say inspires you?" He asks, his expression showing genuine curiosity.

"I just feel like art is my way of keeping some semblance of sanity in this chaotic world, you know what I mean?" I explain.

"Yes, I know exactly what you mean." He says, nodding his head. "It must be a nice escape from the chaos of the world to be able to express yourself through art. I love listening to music; it helps me find clarity when my thoughts get too messy."

"I completely get that. And it's just a plus that I get to do it for a living." I say with a content smile.

"So being an artist is your full-time job?" he questions, his tone laced with intrigue.

"Yeah, at first it was a hobby, but it got so successful that I was able to quit my other job and do it full-time."

"An artist, huh? Anything I might've seen?" he asks, genuinely interested. I shrug casually.

"Possibly. I do commissions for all types of people, I've got a few pieces in the Brooklyn Museum, I also run an art page on Instagram, so maybe you've seen some of my art." I pull out my phone and show him my page. He takes the phone from my hands, scrolling and raising his eyebrows in surprise.

"These are amazing," he says quietly, clearly impressed. "Do you draw from real life often? It's so realistic and…detailed" He continues, running his fingers along my phone screen lightly.

"I'm experimenting with some other media forms, but yeah, all of these I painted from real life. Some of them even went for really high prices. My most recent piece went for $3,000. But I've been working on that one for months. It was a commission for the governor of New York."

"Wow! It's amazing. You got some serious talent girl!" He praises, giving me a high five. I laugh, blushing a bit as he compliments me. He hands me my phone back and pulls his out, going to my account on his Instagram and following it. It takes everything within me not to scream.

"Thank you. Art is just a huge passion for me. I love to make other people happy with it as well." I admit. Michael notices me blushing when it sinks in he just followed my account.

"Well, you've got a new fan." He says with a sly grin, leaning against my shoulder. "I might have to use your services sometime." He says, his gaze lingering on mine.

"Yeah, I mean, I'm down to make anything you'd like." I blurt out, before realizing what I'd just said. "I... didn't mean it like that." I let out a sheepish laugh and clasp my hands together. Michael laughs as well, but he really is just enjoying himself.

"How about you make a portrait of me?" He suggests, a hint of playfulness in his tone.

"When? Right now?"

"I'll leave it up to you. We got the next couple days." He reminds me with a wink.

"Okay, but you'll have to be on your A-game this whole week. Are you up for the challenge?" I question, matching his tone.

Michael leans in, his voice low and teasing. "I'm always up for a challenge, especially if it involves spending more time with someone as captivating as you."

I feel a flush of warmth, and I playfully roll my eyes. "Flattery will get you everywhere, Mr. Jordan."

He grins, unfazed. "Is that a promise, Ms. Samuels?"

"Absolutely," I reply, laughing a bit and enjoying our banter. Even though we've just met, it feels like we've been friends for a while. Michael takes note of the easy chemistry that we have, and that chemistry sets the tone for a vacation filled with shared moments and the promise of a memorable Christmas.

"Any other hidden talents I should know about, Naomi?" He questions me. Somewhere in our conversation, we've gravitated so close on the couch that there's no space between us. Yet, the proximity feels comfortable now, and any initial nervousness has dissipated.

"Well, you'll have to find that out, won't you?" I respond with a sly smirk.

"Oh, she wants to be mysterious now?" Michael chuckles, his dimples showing as he smiles at me.

"She does indeed. As you said, we've got these next few days. You'll just have to see for yourself," I reply, glancing at the clock to realize how late it has gotten. Most of the children have already fallen asleep, and the aunts and uncles have retired to their rooms. It appears that the family is settling down for the night. Michael and I exchange glances, acknowledging the quieting atmosphere around us.

"I guess it's time for us to call it a night," Michael suggests, a yawn coming from him. I nod in agreement, feeling a sense of contentment in the air.

"Yeah, it's getting late. Goodnight, Michael." I say, rising from the couch. Michael follows my actions and stands up.

"Goodnight, Naomi." He pulls me into a brief hug, and I reciprocate, my arms instinctively wrapping around his waist. After a moment, we separate, and I turn to make my way to my room.

"Uh..." Michael utters softly. "Which way is the guest room?" He asks. I smile and chuckle.

"It's down the hall, second door on the left," I reply, pointing him in the direction.

"Ah, okay, goodnight again." He says, before walking towards his room.

"Goodnight," I say softly, heading into my bedroom and getting ready for bed. I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror and stare for a moment. Out of nowhere, I break out into a victory dance and squeal silently. I still cannot believe that Michael B Jordan is at my house, or that he's going to be staying here for a week, or that he might even like me! I take a deep breath and compose myself once more, worried I might wake someone.

As I settle into bed, the tranquility of the night wraps around me like a warm blanket. Reflecting on the unexpected turns of this day, I realize exactly how crazy this whole day has been. I can only hope that this isn't a dream. With a contented sigh, I drift off to sleep, eagerly anticipating the things to come these next few days.

To Be Continued...

[bed-chemist]

Oh, twenty-five years old Oh, how were you to know?

it's my birthday and i got my master's degree yesterday! celebrate with me by reading one of my fics. I'll be updating them soon. <3

─⋆ ❝all-american bitch❞ bodyguard michael b. jordan x president’s daughter oc ─⋆ ❝sweetest pie❞ chef joel x baker oc ─⋆ ❝karma❞ frat boy harry styles x sorority girl oc

love you all and thank you for a great year!

[starcrossedxwriter]

Princess’s Punishment (MBJ x Reader)

A/N: I didn’t have the energy to go back and find the two asks lol but this is a request from two folks for a kinky punishment story with. So enjoyyyy!

Warnings: degradation, name calling, NSFW, lots of kinks (spanking, cockwarming, etc)

***

“What do you think?” You gave her fiancee a model-like twirl so he could examine your outfit from all angles. 

Michael glanced up from his phone and the email he was typing, letting out a low whistle as his eyes swept over your perfect frame. 

“That dress gon’ get you into trouble, Princess.” 

You threw him a coy smile before turning back to the giant mirror in the middle of the store. You were the only customer there, Michael preferring to reserve stores for an hour or two so you could have a private and serene shopping experience. It ensured everyone in the store was solely dedicated to getting you exactly what you needed and wanted. Most stores happily obliged, knowing that anytime Michael brought his princess in, the limit on his card was nonexistent. Today was no different. 

“That looks great on you,” a man offered as he emerged from the back of the store. His dreads were neatly pulled back out of his face. He was the definition of tall, dark, and handsome, the exact type of man who would have once turned your head before you met Michael, the love of your life. But no one compared to the literal sexiest man alive in your eyes and that was a fact. 

You had never seen him in the store before but when the woman you typically worked with didn’t return, you realized he would be assisting you. 

“Hope you don’t mind. Jenn had a family emergency. I’m Marcus,” he reached out to shake your hm which you accepted with a bright smile. 

“Nice to meet you. Y/N,” you introduced yourself before turning back to the mirror, your hands running over the luxuriously soft material that hugged your curves. “Not sure this is the most flattering though.” 

“I have another dress in the back, we just got it in. Similar to this one but it’s perfect for you. Will be far more flattering. A body like that… you should show it off.” 

You did not pick up on the obvious flirting in his tone, particularly as that was the farthest thing from your mind. You merely nodded with a smile. “Thank you. That would be great. Can’t wait to see it.” 

“I’ll bring that and a couple other pieces. We technically aren’t supposed to show them yet but for a friend,” he winked at you. “I can bend a few rules.” 

“Really??” You were merely excited about getting an advanced look at your favorite store’s new pieces. 

“Of course. Be right back.” 

“Thank you!” You watched him for a few moments as he walked away before turning to Michael whose face was set in a scowl. “Everyone here’s so nice all the time.” 

“That nigga’s nice cause he wants to fuck you,” Michael grumbled, his tone signaling that he was not as pleased with the service as you.” 

Your jaw fell open before you laughed at the absurdity of the idea. Men rarely flirted with you, if ever. “Come on, baby. Don’t be silly. He wants us to spend money, likely to make his commission better so he’s just being extra complimentary.” 

“Nahhh, I watched him basically undress you with his fuckin’ eyes, Princess. Besides, I’m the one payin’ and nigga didn’t say shit to me. Acted like I’m not even here. I don’t like him.” 

You merely laughed, clearly not realizing that Michael was genuinely upset with the salesman. “Aww my grumpy baby. You don’t like anyone,” you teased before disappearing into your dressing room to try on more outfits. 

Outfit after outfit, you pranced around for your boyfriend and gave him a fashion show. He was thoroughly unhelpful as he loved 95% of the items you tried on and refused to help you narrow down the massive stack of clothes. Anytime you went shopping, he thought you should buy everything you remotely liked, even if you had one exactly like it in the closet at home. 

“What do you think? Don’t need both black dresses,” you muttered more to yourself than either man in the room. 

“You look perfect in both. Just get both.” 

“Not helpful, babe!” 

“I think you should get the one you have on. Shows off your body better.” 

“You commentin’ on her body a lil too much, my nigga,” Michael called out, clearly frustrated by Marcus’ innocent compliments toward you as you finished trying on clothes. 

“Michael!” You whipped your head around in shock at his rudeness. “Sorry, he gets very grumpy when we’ve been shopping too long.” 

“No apologies needed,” he raised his hands in surrender before making an excuse to go to the back of the store to get her something else. 

You scoffed once he was gone, you and Michael having a silent standoff. 

“That was hella rude,” you chastised him. 

Michael merely shrugged “Hella rude for him to openly flirt with my girl in front of me. He bold enough for that shit, he’s bold enough to take the heat.” 

“You’re ridiculous.” 

“Nah and what were you doin’? Flirting back with that nigga.” 

You let out a laugh at the absurdity of that statement. “Flirting back?? It’s called being nice. I only got eyes for one, very jealous man.” 

And with that, you disappeared back into the changing room to put back on your real clothes. You could not understand what was up with Michael as of late. He seemed to be so much more jealous than he used to be lately, snapping or glaring at any man who got too close or talked to you for too long. He had done the same thing at a premiere just last week. You had chalked the first couple times up to him having a bad day but now you wondered if something else was wrong. 

“You ok?” You asked as you both patiently waited for Marcus to package your mountain of clothes and accessories. 

His eyebrow was furrowed with an angry expression on his face. Still packing most of the weight of Erik Killmonger, he looked intimidating to say the least. But you did not understand what he could be that upset about, nothing had even happened. 

He did not answer you, merely handing Marcus his card to finish paying. 

“Need help getting these to your car?” Marcus asked, his hands already preparing to grab the heavy garment bags and smaller shopping bags 

“That would be g-” you started to say when Michael immediately cut you off. 

“Nah we got it.” His short tone made you cringe slightly, Marcus’s face blanching at the rudeness of it. 

He gestured for his security to pick up the bags and grabbed the rest himself before gesturing for you to exit the store. You merely offered a polite thank you before following him out of the store. 

***

As soon as you walked into the house, you started up the stairs to put your new items in their proper spots when he stopped you. 

“Princess!” 

“What’s up, babe?” 

His tone and face looked almost bored as he scrolled on his phone. “When you’re done, assume the position by the counter.” 

Your eyes grew wide with surprise. Assume the position was a clear directive in the Jordan household, one that let you know the relaxing evening you had planned was not going to happen. A sign that you had upset your master, and thus, must be punished. 

“What did I do??” The logical part of your brain was well aware he was not going to tell you. If your infraction was not obvious, he rarely told you what it was until the punishment had started. But as you racked your brain, you could not understand what on Earth you did to upset him. You had a really nice day together and aside from the weird interaction with the sales associate, he seemed fine. Then it clicked in your brain. 

His jealous streak seemed to not have ended earlier, after all. 

“That’s for me to know and you to find out. 10 minutes.” 

He did not spare you another glance before he disappeared toward the living room, leaving you gawking after him on the stairwell.

“Fuck my life,” you muttered as you raced up the stairs. You completely disregarded your original mission of putting your clothes away, you did not have time for that. 

Instead, you stripped down to nothing and pulled your braids out of their high ponytail. You went to your drawer and pulled out the various things you knew were required: your collar and leash, nipple clamps, flogger, blindfold, and ball gag. He did not always use them all and sometimes he used none of them. But that was another thing for him to know and you to find out. 

You descended down the stairs, your entire body almost floating with anticipation. You knew whatever he had planned would be the most delicious form of torture and that he would fuck you senseless once you begged for his forgiveness enough. 

Michael was leaning against the counter, scrolling on his phone as he waited. Ingredients for dinner laid out on the counter. 

“Thinkin’ short ribs for dinner. Cool?” He asked, his voice completely calm and normal despite what you knew was about to happen. The sweet, doting finace who cared what you wanted for dinner would disappear and a new persona would take over. 

“Sounds good. Thanks, babe.” 

“You ready, Princess?” he asked, checking in as he always did before an intense punishment or scene, which you always appreciated. They were punishments but they were supposed to be pleasurable, in a way, for you too. 

“Yes, daddy,” you answered immediately, handing him all the toys you brought with you before sinking down to your knees before him. You spread your legs just enough for your flower to be on display for him, already wet and aching for his rough touch in the mere minutes he left you. The chill of the house caused the hair on your arms to stick up but you ignored it, things would heat up in a few minutes. 

You wanted to smirk as you watched his eyes cloud with lust but you kept your face neutral. Michael was gone and your master stood in front of you. And his perfect, submissive fuck toy replaced you, designed and ready for whatever pain or pleasure he was generous enough to offer. And the growing ache between your thighs revealed a simple truth: you loved every single second of being his slut. 

Your eyes remained trained on the wood panels of the kitchen floor as he silently studied you. The minutes stretched on and on at an agonizing pace but you did not lift your head or move an inch. However, you could not stop the little sigh of relief that passed your lips when you finally saw his feet come into your line of vision. 

His hand wrapped around your throat, your mouth falling open with a small moan as he squeezed. It was not hard, just enough to let you know he was there. More, you wanted to beg. That was the problem, it did not matter what he did. You just wanted more of it and more of him. You were so addicted to the drug that was Michael, it felt like a lifetime supply would not even be enough. 

His hand forced your head upward so you were looking directly into his expressive brown eyes, your favorite part of him. This position could have had you cumming right then. 

All you could think about was how good it felt to have his hand squeezing your throat while you rode his dick. The mere memory made your pussy clench. But that was not in the cards for you… not yet anyway. 

“You want me to fuck you, don’t you?” He knew everything about his little fuck toy, exactly what his Princess wanted and needed. And there was not a man alive who knew it better. “Such an eager fuck toy for me. That’s why you were tryin’ on all those slutty clothes today? Think you’d get my attention and I’d come back here and fuck you like the attention-seeking whore you are?” He asked as he let go of your throat, much to your sadness, and started circling you. A predator sizing up his prey, indeed. 

You were not foolish enough to answer a single question he levied, they were rhetorical. 

“But I wasn’t the only man whose attention you got. Bet you loved that shit too… his hands on you fixing your outfits, complimenting you. Flirting with him, accepting his help right in front of your master. I should’ve fucked you right there in front of him to remind you that there’s only one man whose attention you should want.” 

The thought of that made your head spin. Him forcing you to your knees in the dressing room, fucking you from behind, claiming you and your body loudly for every person to hear. 

He gently put your collar around your neck, the fur lining made it more comfortable than it would have been otherwise. It was custom, Princess Y/N, embroidered on it. 

“Too tight?” he asked as he attached the leash to it. 

“No master,” you muttered. 

“Good.” 

He tugged on it, forcing you in step behind him. You bit back the moans this caused, him walking you around your living room and kitchen for a few minutes. He knew how much you loved to crawl behind him. It was clear he was trying to ramp you up as much as possible before the punishment truly started. And it was working perfectly. 

By the time you returned to the spot you started at in the kitchen, your knees in pain from the hardwood floor, your body was screaming for his touch. Your core felt painfully empty, you were desperate to feel him on you, inside you. He slid the blindfold over your eyes. 

You whimpered for a moment at the sudden loss of sight, sensory deprivation was a new game for you both and you were still getting used to it. 

“Say the word and the blindfold can come off, Princess,” he whispered. At your nods, he continued. “Face down, ass up. Legs spread. Don’t move a muscle.” 

You adjusted yourself to assume his favorite position. You hissed as your upper body laid against the cool kitchen floor but you made sure the arch in your back was perfect, your ass perched high in the air. Your legs were spread enough for him to see the glistening mess coating your inner thighs. 

“You disgustin’ cum slut. Crawlin’ like a whore made you that wet?” He degraded you, making your entire body shudder as his hands caressed your ass. 

“Yes daddy,” you breathed out, your brain already losing the ability to fully form words. The fog of pleasure was already heavy and he had not even started. “I-I’m sorry.” 

You tensed up sightly, knowing that when you least expected it, his caresses would turn into sharp blows that would make you cry out. However, just as quickly as he started touching you, he stopped. You could not feel his presence around you at all. You had not been given permission to move and you could not see him. You could not even sense where he was anymore. 

Had he left you there? Naked and unable to move like a statue? After a few moments, you heard soft footsteps not far away, causing you to exhale slightly. He was still hovering around. 

Minutes passed by, slower than you thought time could move, as he just left you there without  a single touch or word. But you followed directions, your legs would literally collapse before you moved a muscle. 

Your mind raced to understand why he was not punishing you. And after about 15 minutes of utter silence except for the sounds of him cooking, you longed for it. The sting of his palm, the fire of the flogger against your ass, your thighs, your back, literally anywhere at this point. But there was nothing. This was more of a punishment than the spanking. If you had been given permission to speak, you would have begged for your own torture at this point, would have begged for as many lashings as he felt you deserved for being such a shameless whore. But you could do nothing, nothing but sit with shaking legs in your disorienting haze of pleasure until he decided that you were worth even doling out a punishment on. 

It was clear to you why he chose that particular spot, a spot you knew was visible to him regardless of where he stood in the kitchen. You were on display. 

At that realization, you deepened the arch in your back to something you didn't even know was possible. You had to force yourself not to wiggle your ass in his face, entice him to light it on fire with his strength. 

“Couldn’t even last 15 minutes without daddy’s attention, could you?” You were not sure if you were allowed to answer. “You may speak, Princess.” 

“D-daddy pl-please…” you begged. 

“Didn’t seem to care about me earlier. Why should I give you attention now?” 

“B-Because… I need…” your words failed you. You needed so much in that moment. You needed the pain, you needed the pleasure it brought, you needed to be reminded what you were and whose you were. 

“You need what? Need me to make you cum? You’ll be grateful if I let you cum at all tonight. Need me to fuck you like the cumslut you are? Not sure you deserve my dick. Or you need me to remind you what happens to disobedient fuck toys who anger their masters? Need me to remind you who owns you?” 

“Y-Yes! P-Please… I d-deserve to be punished. I n-need it.” The words barely left your lips before you felt the first blow of the flogger against your ass. “T-Thank you,” you moan, savoring the sting and ache it left behind. 

However, you could not savor it long as he rained them down on every inch of your ass and thighs and a couple well-placed agonizing ones against your pussy that made you scream. You kept count, as was already required. 

“Keep your legs open, slut or I’ll add five more,” he demanded as your entire body convulsed as the flogger caught part of your clit. You forced your body to maintain the position, which took all your willpower. And to think, you begged for this. 

Tears were streaming down your face when he reached 29. That was the most he had ever done with the flogger as it was more painful than his hand and it was torture. However, you took it, the desire to use your safeword never coming to your mind. You would not be able to sit tomorrow but your entire body was on fire, hot, sweaty and desperate for him to fuck the shit out of you. 

When you finally said 30, you were proud of yourself for taking all of it like a champ. 

“That’s a good slut. You should see your ass right now,” he muttered. “So beautiful.” You could only imagine your entire body was completely red and you could feel a couple welts from where he punished you in the same spot over and over again. “You may sit up.” 

You whimpered as you stretched and moved out of your position, your muscles protesting. As you sat up, his hand cupped your cheek and wiped away the few falling tears. 

“Too much?” he asked quietly. 

“No sir. T-thank you for r-reminding me what I am,” you whisper. 

He helped you to your feet, your legs shaking slightly. 

“Let’s watch somethin’ on the tv. Short ribs are slow cookin’.”

Despite the pain in your body, you could not help but smile. This was what made the punishments worth it, this moment. You were happy he let you walk to the couch, giving you a chance to stretch your legs. You stood and watched, licking your lips as he stripped off his clothes before sitting down, his head dripping with pre-cum that made you want to sink to your knees and steal a taste. You licked your lips, longing clearly written on your face that made Michael want to chuckle. He knew how much his Princess loved servicing him on your knees. 

“Don’t even think about it. Worthless cunts who can’t remember who they belong to don’t get a taste. Why?” 

“Because servicing you is a reward and I don’t deserve a reward, daddy,” you mumbled quietly, your voice just as lost and pitiful as you felt. This was the point of punishment though because all you now wanted to do was assure him you were his perfect, obedient princess so you could be rewarded. 

“Good girl. Earn my forgiveness and maybe I’ll fuck that sweet mouth before bed tonight. Now for your punishment…” 

Your eyes grew wide. The last 30 minutes had not been the punishment?? 

Fuck my life. 

“Climb up here and sit on my dick. Facing the tv.” 

You practically catapulted onto his dick without hesitation. Not just because good girls did what they were told without hesitation but because this was your type of punishment. RIding his dick was your favorite pastime.

You slid down on his hard dick, moaning loudly as he filled you to the brim. It was not the orgasm your body desperately needed but it satisfied the overwhelming, blinding carnal need to be filled you felt. You immediately started rocking your hips to increase the friction and pleasure when a powerful and painful swat against your already bruised ass stopped your movements. 

“I didn’t tell your dumb ass to move. Seems like you keep forgetting I own you Princess. This pussy… this body… it’s all mine. And no one else gets to touch what’s mine, no one else controls what’s mine. So you’re gonna sit there on my dick and you’re not gonna move until I tell you to. When I tell you to ride my dick, you do it. When I tell you to stop, you fuckin’ stop. Understand?” 

“D-Daddy please?” you hoped your pleas for mercy and the soft puppy eyes you had on would be enough to soften his resolve. Of all the things he had forced you to do since walking in the house, this was the worst of them. To feel him inside you and be so close to bringing him the pleasure he deserved and you desperately needed but not be allowed to? 

Fuck my life. 

“You should be thankin’ me for even letting your worthless cunt warm my dick. Now sit there and watch the show,” he nodded toward the tv where an episode of both of your favorite anime was playing. 

You moaned and turned around, trying to keep your attention focused on the show in front of you. However, it was impossible. 

This was an utterly new sensation and, while it was torturous, you could not deny that it was pleasurable in its own way. 

Michael’s girth and length was something to be reckoned with and he knew how to use it. His dick perfectly curved into your g-spot and could have you cumming with a few strokes. As you sat on him, his hands occasionally wandered to caress your other pleasure zones. His strong hands massaged your inner thighs causing you to moan. 

You wondered if you could orgasm from just sitting there. You would not because you did not have permission but you wondered if it was possible. Because between his hands and the feel of him inside you, you could think of nothing else. You could feel every inch of him, his dick throbbing and pulsing like a heartbeat against your walls. 

Your body squirmed in his touch, your moans as he played with your body were consistent, particularly when he brushed against your clit. He offered a featherlike touch, it was barely there but you were so worked up, you felt every jolt of pleasure through your body magnified. 

Your pussy clenched around him as if silently begging him to move. But you knew he would not allow you to until he was ready. 

He worked up a rhythm against your clit, your movements becoming more uncontrolled, your breaths heavier. You weren’t gonna last long like this.

“Whose pussy is this, Princess?” 

“Yours, daddy. Only y-yours.” 

“Who can bring you pleasure like your master?” 

“N-No one. J-just you.” 

“Never forget that shit, understand?” 

You nodded fervently. Every punishment had a lesson and this one was etched into your brain matter as now was the feeling of every vein and inch of his dick. 

“I w-won’t! I promise, daddy.” 

He pressed a soft kiss to your bare back, increasing the speed of his fingers. “Cum on my dick, Princess.” 

With permission to cum, you stopped holding back and allowed your body to feel everything. Fuck his fingers knew exactly what buttons to push as your body finally got the pleasure it needed for the last hour. The build up was so fast you barely got to enjoy it but you did not care, you needed the crash, the fall to drown in the pleasure only he could provide. And when you reached the peak, you crashed hard. 

“You like that, baby? You gon’ cum for daddy?” 

“Y-Yes… fuck… t-thank you!” you cried out as you threw your head back as an explosion of pleasure took over every inch of your body. You felt pleasure down to the very cells that made up every part of you. 

You gasped as Michael’s hand wrapped around your long hair and gripped it, pulling you backward. He turned you so his mouth could claim yours, drowning out your moans and cries with a kiss so dominating you never wanted it to end. 

“That’s my good girl,” he praised, causing your heart to soar. “You’ve earned my forgiveness. Ride.” 

You did not need to hear anything else as you started to ride him with abandon, moaning every time his head rammed into your g-spot. You’d cum again before this was over but you made it your personal mission to ensure he did too. You pulled out every trick and play you had in the book until you felt his hands dig into your hips and he started ramming into you. 

You let him take control as he fucked you like a rag doll, ignorning the ache of your bruised ass and thighs as he slammed into them with every thrust upward. He kept you flush to his chest with one hand wrapped tight around your neck, the gentleness of his choking earlier long gone. 

“Where you want it?” he demanded as you felt the signs of him about to cum. 

“Cum inside me, please!” you begged. Michael knew you had a bit of a breeding kink, loving the feeling of him filling you with his cum. That was often another punishment when he would cum on you instead of inside you. Not that him marking his territory was really a punishment. 

“Want me to fill this sweet cunt, baby??” 

“Yes! Please, please!” you begged as he fucked you so hard you felt as if you would be seeing stars for hours. 

You could not stop your body from convulsing as you felt the warmth of his cum surge inside you, you clenched around him. 

Your legs burned as you used your arms, braced on his knees to stop your upper body from toppling forward. He rubbed soothing patterns along your spine to calm you. Michael pushed you to your limit every time but he also knew how to take care of you afterward. 

He lifted you off of him, a slight whimper escaping your lips at the emptiness you suddenly felt. He only sat you down long enough to stand up himself and you were quickly back in his arms, your legs wrapped tightly around his waist as he carried you up to your master suite. 

He laid you on the bed and got some soothing lotion and started massaging it everywhere the flogger hit you. You shuddered at the cool feeling but it felt heavenly combating the stinging you still felt and soreness you knew you would still feel tomorrow. 

“You did so good for me, Princess,” he offered, your sweet Michael clearly having returned to you. 

That was all you needed to hear, that you had pleased him. 

“Thank you.” Your gratitude was muffled against the comforter of your shared bed. After a few moments of silence, you sat up and glanced back at him. “You know you’re it for me, right? Don’t have eyes for anyone else.” 

“Yea I know… sometimes I just worry…” his voice trailed off. 

You ignored the ache to shift over to him and straddle his waist, his hands resting on your hips. “You’re always reassuring me, sometimes I forget you need that too. You are the greatest thing that ever happened to me. It’s you and me till the end of the line, babe.” You teasingly peppered his face with kisses until he finally smiled and started laughing. 

“You and me, baby.” 

“But anytime you wanna get a little jealous and possessive and it leads to that? Feel free,” you joked, the scene still dominating every space in your mind. At your words, you suddenly became hyper aware of his member pressed against your core and instinctively started grinding on top of him. 

“Princess,” he growled. “This time ain’t about me,” he reminded her. Aftercare was about you and he was committed to it. 

“How much time do we have till dinner?” 

“Two hours.” 

“Enough time for you to teach me my lesson again and then take care of me. Don’t think it quite stuck,” you shrugged nonchalantly, taking on your bratty persona to rile him up. 

You shrieked as he flipped you over onto your back and stood up. Master was back and he was ready to make the most of those two hours.

***

A/N: Thanks for reading!! My requests are open if you have more asks/requests… just know that it takes me a while lol

Drop a comment and let me know what you thought :)

[chaneajoyyy]

CREED 3 FANFICTION

ADONIS CREED

sinner & saint series (ft. damian anderson)- @uzumaki-rebellion

DAMIAN ANDERSON

sinner & saint series (ft. adonis creed)- @uzumaki-rebellion

pink tax (handyman!damian)- @hearteyes-for-killmonger

underneath it all- @douceurrrr

ghost from the past series- @whorhees

the invisible string series (ft. erik stevens)- @essaysbyciara

***IF ANYONE HAS DAMIAN ANDERSON AND ADONIS CREED (CREED3) FICS HIT MY LINE!!!

[dxddykenn]

The Strangers part 2

Part 1

Warnings: MDNI (18+), choking, tiny bit of sensory deprivation, gets a little nasty

first smut scene. please excuse any errors or mistakes. feel free to leave feedback🤍

divider by @strangergraphics

Staring up at them you plead “Please just let me go! I promise I won’t tell anyone!”

“Now why would we do that when everything worked out?” Erik asks. “Us finding this house…you being here. Tonight couldn’t get any better baby girl” he smirks.

“My boyfriend is on his way and will be here soon! You won’t get away with this”

“Now mama why lie” Terry frowns. “We haven’t been anything but nice and you lie…looks like we need to teach you some manners” he says.

Gazing into the mirror in front of you, you watch as he walks behind you. His rough hands gripped your ass, slowly massaging the fat. Staring in the mirror he locked eyes with you.

“Here are the rules” he says as he trails his fingers to your pussy. “The only names you are to call us are Daddy or Sir” he says running his fingers up and down your lips before teasing your hole. “If you disobey you will be punished” he says before snatching your thong off causing you to gasp, the fabric falling to the floor.

“Do you understand?” Damon questions stroking your cheek.

“Fuck you” you glare at him making him chuckle.

“Don’t worry you will soon” he winks.

You're cut off by the sound of a loud crack erupting throughout the room, and the stinging sensation on your ass. You squeal as you look back to the mirror. Terry now had a flogger in hand, his shirt was off, pants hanging off his hips.

“Why can’t you be nice and listen Y/N?” Terry asks slowly pacing behind you.

“Since you can’t seem to keep your mouth shut let’s teach you how to use it” Damon says standing in front of you. Grabbing his dick at the base he taps it on your cheek before pushing in your mouth. Instantly you gag a rush of saliva running out of your mouth and down your chin making Damon pull out. The flogger pops your ass again making your body jerk forward.

“Come on mama you can do better than that” Terry says from behind you. Damon slides himself back in your mouth until his tip kisses the back of your throat. You look up at him with tears welling in your eyes, spit bubbling from the sides of your mouth. He groans as he pauses, savoring the feeling of your throat closing around him. Pulling out again you cough as he lets you catch your breath for a few seconds. He pushes back in quickly fucking your throat as loud gawks filled the room. As you were focused on throating his dick, the flogger continued to crash against your ass making you moan around him. Your clit throbbed as you were loving the feeling of his dick deep down your throat and the flogger spanking you. Low deep grunts left Damon’s throat as you felt him throb in your mouth, you could tell he was going to cum. Thrusting one final time his dick pushing as far as it could, your nose pressed against him, his nut spills down your throat as he moans loudly.

“Good fuckin’ girl” he groaned reaching behind you to smack your ass.

Slowly pulling out, he bobbed your head a few last times before pulling your lips off of him with a pop. He bends down kissing your wet mouth, loud smacks filling the air.

They cut the ropes that held you up letting your feet hit the floor. Erik takes the knife from Terry running it across your chest. In one quick motion he slices the front of your shirt leaving you completely naked. Standing around you their hands roamed your body, gripping your breast, twisting your nipples between their fingers, hands falling between your legs rubbing your lips. Erik lifts you up kissing your body until you are sitting on his shoulders, his hands gripping the cuff of your ass to keep you steady. Sticking out his tongue he licks a stripe up your heat, low moans leaving your lips. His movements were precise. A kiss here. A bite there. Flattening his tongue, he darts in and out of you at a quick pace. Your eyes rolling into the back of your head. The tightness in your lower stomach building, as you clenched your thighs around him.

“Daddy pleaseee! Please let me come!” you plead.

“Not yet hold that shit” he says, sucking your clit back in his mouth.

You rolled your body towards him pushing your pussy further into his mouth chasing your release. The feeling in your stomach finally bubbling over as you came hard in his mouth. You moaned loudly as your legs shook your hands gripping his head.

The room falls silent as Erik walks you to the bed dropping you down. You are flipped onto your stomach as your ass is lifted into the air, your face resting on the pillow beneath you. Your arms are pulled under you as your hands and ankles are locked in a spreader and a blind fold placed over your eyes. You're pulled to the edge of the bed as you feel the bed dip behind you.

“We’re going to try this again since you can’t follow directions” he says behind you. His big hands massage your lower body, running over your hips and gripping your waist. His fingers rub up and down your slit, spreading your wetness all around your pussy. His fingers dipping in and out of you. Suddenly his dick pushes into you causing you to moan out.

“You feel so good gripping my dick baby” he mutters. Hands gripping your waist, he fucks you at a fast pace, hips colliding against your ass. The feeling in your stomach returning as your walls squeezed around him. He knew you were going to cum soon.

“Aww you want to cum baby?” he asks, gripping the back of your neck as he continues to slam into you. You continue to moan, completely disregarding his question as you focused on not cumming. You felt a hand on the back of your head pulling your hair causing you to tilt your head back.

“Didn’t I ask you a fuckin question? Use. Your. Words” he says slamming his dick into you after every word.

“I’m going to cum! Can I please cum daddy?” you choke out.

Pulling out he jerked his dick, his cum painting your ass. The feeling of your orgasm fading away as you whined.

“Maybe next time Princess” he chuckles smacking your ass.

Terry unlocked you removing the blindfold as you are now placed on your back. Your knees are brought to your chest, rope tied around your thighs and connected to the bed keeping you spread open. Terry lays between your thighs running his hands up and down your body before placing a firm hand on your hip. Grabbing his dick he rubs the tip between your folds as he slowly slides in making your mouth fall open. Staring in your eyes he watched you closely, watching as your eyes rolled back. With his free hand he mildly slaps your cheek making your eyes pop open.

“Keep your eyes on me” he mutters.

A “Yes sir” leaving your lips.

Slow stroke after slow stroke, thrust after thrust, he moved his hips slowly fucking into you, eyes never leaving yours. You were lost in the feeling, completely losing yourself. It was like your body was a stone that they were chiseling away at one by one trying to break you down to make the perfect statue. They were trying to break you, make you beg, make you fall apart so they could put you back together.

Biting his bottom lip he leans forward ghosting his lips over yours as you stare up at him. “This my pussy mama?”. Low whimpers and moans left your lips. Unable to form words all you could do was nod your head as you focused on the feeling of his dick massaging your walls. Slowly pulling out he slams his dick inside of you making you scream out “FUCKKKK”.

“Yess daddy! Yes I’m sorryyy!” you cry out. Your hands pressing against his stomach trying to get him to slow down. “Move your fucking hands now” he grits out. “Thought you were a big girl, thought you could take it hmm?” he questioned. “Make me nut, make daddy nut all in this pussy” he grunts as his dick repeatedly knocks against your spot.

Moving your hips toward him you start to fuck him back. His body smacking against your thighs loudly.

The sounds coming from the room were pornographic.

His thrust started to become sloppy as his body jerked, his dick pulsing inside of you, making you squeeze around him. Burying his face in your neck loud grunts and moans flowed out as he nuts deep inside of you.

A low “Fuck” leaving his lips as his thick cum shoots inside of you triggering your release, your cum coating his dick. Kissing your neck his lips trailing up the side of your face as he captures your lips in a sloppy kiss, sucking on your bottom lip before pulling away.

Breathing heavily you lay back closing your eyes, a content smile plastered on your face. A kiss is placed on your forehead trailing down your neck making you open your eyes smiling. Damon was face to face with you, but he had the mask back on.

“Damon what are you doing?” you ask as you try to sit up, making him pull out the knife he was hiding behind him.

“Mama did you really think we could let you go? You know what we look like” Terry says coming from behind him.

“And we can’t afford to get caught babygirl, just know you were my favorite tho” Erik winked.

Damon plunged the knife into your stomach making your body jolt. Looking up into his eyes you could see nothing but excitement. You try to push at his hands as he tilts his head coming close to your ear “I waited for this moment all night” he whispers. Blood pours out of your mouth as he pushes the knife in deeper. Tears rolled down your face as you stare at him, blinking slowly. He watched as life left your eyes and your body slumped beneath him. Standing up he looks at Erik and Terry as they place their masks back on and they all walk out of the room.

“AND THAT'S A WRAP” the director yells as everyone on set starts clapping.

Sitting up you smile as you are uncuffed and helped up. The crew escorts you to your dressing room to get cleaned up.

As you were sitting in the chair to your vanity you heard a knock on the door. The boys entered the room as everyone else left out to let you all talk.

“You guys were AMAZING” you squeal embracing them in a group hug.

“You did so good babygirl” Erik says smiling down at you.

“Yeah you did so good mama, but uhh I think we need some help” Terry says as you look up at him with a raised eyebrow.

“I think there’s a few scenes that we need to redo” Damon smirks, grabbing your ass.

Biting your lip you smirk, you had a long night ahead of you.

Tags🤍

@gg-trini @urthem00n @theereina @kismet83 @yamst3rdamctrl @endlessmockery

[henneseyhoe]

My Big Three As Boyfriends|

Trevante♡

You wanna have the perfect balance of a country boy and a city boy rolled into one? He’s the man for you!

His love feels like coming into a warm house after shoveling snow.

The first time you two ever kissed, my lady by Tyrese played in the background and since then ‘my lady’ with a brown heart has been your contact name.

He’ll sing any song you ask him to even though his ass can barely hold a tune in all seriousness.

Uncovering your ears, you start laughing. “Yes, sounds just like how Tyrese sung it” He smiles and takes a bow.

You try not to be the clingiest since he loves his space sometimes, but he definitely has his moments where he needs you near him like some kind of support teddy.

Hates when you all up on him when it’s time to sleep but always ends up damn near on top of you by the morning.

“Move, Bae, it’s hot” he groans. 8 hours later. “Tre…Trevante…baby, you crushin’ me!” You huff, trying to push his arm and leg off of you so you could go pee.

He’ll blame you as if your little ass can move him from one side of the bed to the other.

Expect booty slaps every time you walk by, and don’t let him be upset with you prior, cause it’ll be harder this time.

“Tight ass shorts” he’d say as you walked around the house as free as you wanted in the Nike shorts HE bought you.

Often play fighting and roughhousing until he accidentally hits you too hard and has to be soft with you for the rest of the day.

“Awwnnn, cmere, I didn’t think it was gonna land that hard” he holds you as you pout, rubbing your now sore arm. “That actually hurt, Tre. Like seriously 🥺”

He makes fun of the Erotic books you read, but you caught him peaking over your shoulder once and following along with one of your favorite stories.

“Don’t get too hype, I peeped something and the shit was interesting!”

Has a habit of putting his hand up your shirt when you two are cuddling.

He hates when you leave for work because he works mornings and you work nights. Sometimes on his day offs(though a bad idea) he’d stay up at night and bother you on the phone all throughout your work, dropping hints that you needed to come home on your snack break for a real meal.

-you’d brush him off and sneak off to the bathroom, sending him a titty pic to hold him off till you got home.

-‘oh wow. I just might take a trip instead actually’

-He’s definitely already taken trips up there a few times to get you right, as he should.

Michael♡

A REAL certified loverboy

If you told him to jump, he’d ask how high.

He would never admit it but he is CLINGY. He wants to be with you and all up under you as soon as those paparazzi cameras turn off.

Also certified double texter.

‘babe’ ‘Y/N’ ‘Y/N’ ‘Y/N’ ‘babe’

‘don’t act like you don’t see these texts’

‘WHAT boy’

‘I miss you’ ‘wyd my love’

‘working. Something you should be busy doin’

‘I finished already’

‘Fast reader you are. Here’s a gold star⭐️’

‘What can I say? You’re engaged to a smart man’

‘Engaged?’

Boo🩷 has unsent a message.

‘Forget you read that till further notice’

The man can’t hold water, as you can see. Which is why you don’t tell him anything that’s meant to be a secret.

He literally can’t sleep without your leg thrown over him some kind of way.

He remembers all the cute little shit you like year around so he already has a laid out plan of gifts for Birthdays, Valentines, and Christmas.

A good bit of his camera roll is just you and screenshots of things he wants to keep tabs of.

Can’t organize for shit and that’s exactly why his phone storage is about to explode

Begged you to organize his work stuff, so you agreed, until you saw NOTHING was put where it’s supposed to go.

“how do you work like this?!”

“I honestly don’t know…I- I do not know” he responds, staring at the unorganized files.

“Your assistant doesn’t take care of this stuff?”

“I don’t like to bother her like that”

“Nigga, she’s an assistant, she’s supposed to be bothered!”

Thursdays were self care days for you two. Wether you were just sitting around and watching a movie or doing actual things to improve the body, it was still self care to y’all.

Both of you are foodies, but he’s more adventurous, so he always tries to get you to try new foods when out together.

“would you ever try live squid?” He asks, looking through the menu the restaurant provided for them. “Uhh..I dunno. I don’t think I’d like it, but I’d probably try. Just have to ignore the memory of that story of that man who ate a live squid and it killed him and crawled back up his throat” he stares at you for a moment then looks back down at his menu. “Never mind then…”

Soooo protective of you and thinks you don’t stand up for yourself enough so he always makes sure you’re heard in any and all conversations.

Takes any chance to show you off. Was it cause he genuinely loved you or was it cause he liked showing niggas what they’ll never have? Both actually.

“Oh, and y’all know my girl, right? My beautiful, wonderful girlfriend” he grabs you by the hand, and kisses the top of it, pulling your attention away from your drink. You smile and look away, feeling extra appreciated.

Gentlemen in the streets, freak nasty in the sheets.

You ever came so hard that it took a few seconds for your vision to come back? Yeah.

Yahya♡

The dynamic between the both of you is just very unserious. He is truly your bestfriend who also happens to be your boyfriend

It’s hard to get anything done when the both of you are constantly cracking jokes back and forth, a con of having the same job.

“Yahya, please, my stomach hurts!” you spoke in between laughs, tears prickling the both of y’all’s eyes as you tried to make it through a SINGULAR business email. “How the fuck do you misspell so much shit on a business email?!” He howled, wiping tears from his face and slouching in his seat, you still crying.

He blames you for when he doesn’t get much work done, but he knows damn well it’s his fault for being the goofy mf he is.

When you two were just friends, your mutual friends would tease him by calling him “boy Y/N” because you both had so much in common.

He’s your reminder to eat like a normal person

“What’d you eat today?” Yahya questions, reading over his weekly to-do list. You glare at him then look back at your computer, not answering because you didn’t wanna hear his mouth about you forgetting to eat. Sighing, he gets up and heads into the kitchen to make you something quick.

At first the relationship felt like you two were still just friends, but you both grew into being a little more intimate with each other.

You both can’t help but create small(but healthy) competitions. You were both a little more competitive than you’d like to admit, but you both had competitions so often that basically everyone you guys hung out with knew of them.

“Damn” You sigh as you watched your paper ball miss the trash basket. “Hm” Yahya hums and gets up, picking the paper ball up. Instead of throwing it away right then, he went back to his seat that was a bit farther back and took a shot, the paper effortlessly making it in the basket. You look back at him with a squint and he smirks. “Okay, bet” you whisper.

Ten minutes had gone by and you both were throwing balled up paper that you needed in the trash. To make what point? Neither of you knew, but you both were entertained.

Theres a box in his closet with Polaroid pictures of you two throughout the five years of dating each other, most taken by Yahya himself because in his words, “I just love looking at you. Pictures don’t even capture all that I see, but damn, baby”

The man could easily make you melt like some chocolate. He was just as smooth as he was when you first met him.

Once you both got more into the relationship, he was honestly the most romantic and caring person ever. He’d do anything to make you feel those butterflies.

Sent you on a corny little riddle game for Valentine’s Day once which lead you to some of your favorite places around the city until the last clue brought you home to three bouquets of your favorite flowers and a ring the size of your brown eyes.

Alexa, play whatever you want by Tony! Toni! Toné!

Some niggas don’t trick, but Yahya? Oh he’s gonna step. In the end, if you’re happy, he’s happy.

The night ended with something else a little more eventful that had the neighbors thinking to call the cops for the third time that month.

He plans on staying with you for the rest of his life, and made that know.

And he’s determined to put a baby in you one of these days, with or without that damn ring.

✮✮✮✮

Looks and bias aside, who would y’all pick as a boyfriend? 🫣 I think I’d pick Yahya 😭

[erikftglitter]

Ch 1 | The Piteous Life of Dr. Stevens’ New Wife

Killmonger AU

Created By: Erikftglitter

“Hey Dr. Stevens. It’s Kari. I just wanted to thank you again for the kind gesture.”

Erik read the message several times before exuding a deep sigh. He had spent most of the night trying to forget the younger woman, but the universe was setting him up for failure.

She’s practically in our hands, Erik.

He wanted to silence the overbearing thoughts from flowing but he couldn’t help but to also think that it was true. Didn’t he deserve the woman and kids that Kari, and so many others, mentioned to him before? Did he really want to commit to dying alone in a world like this?

“No need to thank me Kari. Thank you for not contacting the board about our collision.”

Erik found himself humored with his own response. Little did he know that Kari was gushing from the desk chair that she was texting from. Could this be? She wondered if the doctor would really be interested in seeing her again. Well, seeing her under normal circumstances.

“I won’t…. Only if you allow me to be your tour guide.”

Kari was persistent, inexperienced, but persistent to get the ex-SEAL out of the house. She surprised herself with her forwardness but the clock was ticking and her local blue-collared men were no where near as appealing as Dr. Stevens.

“A man of my word, that I am. Saturday?”

Erik needed to be strategic about his decisions moving forward if he wanted this woman to live. His self deprivation was starting to take a toll on him. He knew that it wouldn’t take long for it boil over once Kari was in his presence.

Just thinking about the girl’s astonishing aura and utter beauty made Erik’s dick jump yet again. What was it about her? He thought back to the initial moment when they locked eyes. She could not maintain eye contact and that certainly enamored him. He could spot a submissive woman quite easily.

Not just someone who was infatuated by the idea of being dominated by him, but someone who was completely meek. Someone who would be most compliant tied up and fucked to the state of oblivion. Kari Evans radiated that. Erik was 99% percent that his declaration of the girl was correct but he’d be patient enough to find out.

“Yes. Wear comfy shoes.”

Erik was more than pleased to return back to work. To focus on a ruptured appendix, or to remove someone’s gallbladder, or even just to guide one of his residents through a hemorrhoid surgery, supplied him a reasonable amount of distraction time. During surgery his main focus was his performance efficiency. Dr. Erik Stevens did not kill patients. One of the reasons the he remains one of the highest earners in the nation is due to that. Erik knew his limitations and typically did not engage in anything that would kill anyone, inside and outside of the operating room, post departure from the Navy.

“Dr. Stevens. Got a minute?” Erik glanced up from his seat at the computer and signaled for the man to continue.

“I was looking over Mrs. Gutierrez’s files, the one who was just transferred, and she’s rejecting the transplant.”

Erik’s face fell into a deep frown. In only his three months at Oregon State Hospital, he’s noticing the consistent errors being completed by the competing hospital. Once their team botches a surgery; Erik and his team are left to clean up the mess.

“Another transplant this soon would kill her before the week ends. Contact her family and consult about the removal. If they wait then the sepsis will spread.”

Erik looked at the extent of the damage on the results that his resident provided. He’s not completely successful just because of his own experience. Thankfully Oregon welcomed him with a skilled team upon his negotiation and he was provided with them when he arrived. He wasn’t fond of many people in his life, but some of his team made his job rewarding.

“Great call.” He murmured to himself. He learned from his mentor, that learned from his mentor, and so forth, that praising young professionals too early made them arrogant. Made them incompetent surgeons who overlooked misplaced sutures, mistreated nurses, and failed to remain at the peak of their performance. The younger surgeon reminded him of himself. That was as respected as he could be.

Kari on the other hand was not having a good time. One of her middle schoolers thought it was a great idea to climb a tree and ultimately suffered a great fall. Why? Kari didn’t have the time to asks as the girl was soaking blood through her jeans.

With trembly hands, Kari used her walkie talkie to call for an ambulance and tried her best to soothe the hysterical girl.

“It’s okay. I got you.” Kari must have repeated that a thousand times before the first responders arrived.

“Ms. Evans. Nina will not cooperate unless you ride with her.” Principal Grant said to Nina as she stood up to disregard the abundance of bloody tissues.

“Don’t worry about the sub plans. The parents would like if you accompanied her as well.” He gave her an empathetic look. “Thank you for being one of good ones.” He whispered when Kari was helped in the ambulance by the first responders.

It was true. Kari was an extraordinary educator. Each of her students were individualized. She knew their strengths, allergies, their personalities, and their ability to learn. Because Caber City’s public school system was barely funded by the state of Oregon, most of teachers were underpaid. Most teachers married rich and taught for a hobby. The students rarely got the opportunity to experience a memorable relationship with education, but Kari made it her mission to change that.

Because she was young and unmarried with a strong sense of change, she was immediately disliked by her coworkers. She grew to pity their lives instead of watching in sorrow. Her students had the highest grades, standardized test scores, and overall success. That was no coincidence and it didn’t go unnoticed. If Kari wasn’t good at anything else she knew that she was a wonderful teacher. Years of watching and modeling her grandmother instilled that in her. She remembered her everyday.

“What’s going? How’d this happen?” Kari met the frantic parents as soon as she arrived at the hospital.

“During her lunch hour she wandered off to a tree and fell several feet from the ground.” The gasps from Nina’s parents troubled Kari. She hated bad news and bad things in general.

“I’m very sorry that this happened. I’ll go now, but I wanted to ensure that Nina was safely taken to the hospital.” Kari spoke again. Not really sure what else she could provide to these poor girls’ parents.

Nina’s mother spoke again. “Thank you for riding with her. She hates hospitals and probably would have passed out if she had to go alone.” Even though the shakiness, Kari understood every word. These were the moments that made her restless nights worth it.

Kari reached her hand to Nina’s mom, and looked at both parents, “She’s a very sweet girl. They’ll take great care of her.” With her final comment she began to frantically rush out the hospital herself. She hated hospitals just as much. With the amount of dried blood on her own clothes she knew that it wouldn’t be long before her own panic attack started.

Kari didn’t care about who she was running past, she just knew that she needed fresh air before she began to hyperventilate. The memories of finding her own grandparents in pools of blood haunted her. Drunk drivers collided with their car and drove away, killing both of the people who raised her.

“Kari?”

“Oh shit. Kari. Breathe.”

“Breathe.”

Erik took in the scene in front of him. There was no way this was yet another coincidence. This was going to be the one that one that Kill was going to play with.

With guided breaths and some gentle touches of encouragement, Kari was able to control her breathing. She’s not sure when she realized that it was Dr. Stevens she had been talking to, but at least it saved her the embarrassment of passing out in the middle of the road. She hadn’t thought about the fact that she was in the doctor’s proximity.

Between the wails of her student and the acquisition of her own trauma, she didn’t have much time to think about Erik.

“It’s alright Kitten.”

—

@ladymac82 :)

[killslumflower]

ROOTZ OSCAR FIT lights off (famous!Blackreader x Michael b Jordan x Yahya mateen)

+ back tattoo that is mentioned in part one, looks a little distorted due to making it fit but y’all get the gist ;)