#micheal b jordan x reader
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butterphii · 6 months ago
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My Masterlist!
Joel Miller
Series
Joel Miller Series Masterlist
One Shots
Smiles - April 24, 2024
Water Pressure - July 11, 2024
Neighborly Love - July 24, 2024
"Besties" - August 22, 2024 - Roll-A-Trope Challenge
Bed for Us - September 2nd, 2024 - Trope-Off Challenge
Fluff
Autumn - October 4th, 2024 - Fall Challenge
Jake Peralta
Series
Jake Peralta Series Masterlist
One Shots
Damn Good - July 12, 2024
4:20 - August 11, 2024
It's Ok, Love - August 14, 2024
Fluff
Babe - August 22, 2024
One More Chance - September 11, 2024
Ellie Williams
One Shots
Sweater - September 3rd, 2024
Other Characters
Ares Hidalgo - April 24, 2024
Sweater - Ellie Williams, September 3rd, 2024
My Baby - Tim Rockford, September 8th, 2024
Mc..Steamy? - Mark Sloan, December 21st, 2024
Note: ALL one shots have smut in them. NONE of the fluff peices do. Both series have smut but start out without it.
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lokisivy · 2 years ago
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Haiiii could I get some fluffy head cannons for Michael b Jordan or killmonger? Like him being a gentleman or something? I like flufffff
backstory if you want
Erik has always been known as cruel or a murderer but no one ever l you had met him in uni before her went to Afghanistan. yes he had changed when he came back he was always mad. he would fuck it out and you were there. Although you never talked to him during his time in the marine when he came back he looked for you. he told you how much he missed you thought he was just calling for a booty call since he never send you anything during the time he was away. it turns out he knows how important getting your PhD was for you and he knows you would get distracted waiting for him.
he was very affectionate he always cuddled and gave you kisses but after coming back from the marine you had to ask for them he would hesitate but with time he becomes the same person you loved before.
He cooks dinner for you when you're working late in the lab. Even though he is a horrible cook, the effort makes it all better than the food.
his not that great at saying what's on his mind but he shows it in a physical way.
that time he was mad about you going out alone at midnight to a sketchy area to get an element you needed for your project.
he was scared to lose you he just got you back.
"You can't be risking your fucking life like you have fifty of them!"
"Why are you so mad nothing happened to me."
"You could've been killed Y/N or worse raped or sold! I saw a lot of shit like this and it's way worse than being dead!"
"Erik Im fine I get that you were scared for me but you yelling at me won't fucking change anything."
he knows your right he isn't used to talking calmly
"I'm sorry... it's just I can't lose you, so much time has run out on us." he sat down on the couch
"I know baby but we have the rest of our lives to make up for it." you knelt in front of him.
he kissed you so passionately knocking the air out of your lungs.
he didn't stop there he made you ride his face as a way of saying sorry.
it was fucking amazing the way he pushed your cunt harder against his face while he took it all. you actually thought he loved it more than you did because he came with you even though he did not touch himself, just an occasional rub to get rid of the aching pain from all the pressure.
he always took really good care of u when it came to pleasuring you.
he always hugs you when you were sad, got you food when you were hungry and would get you flowers just to make you happier on the good days.
he never failed to make it good for you and these small gesture makes you fall in love more with him.
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insidekatmind · 10 days ago
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Mine-Erik Killmonger
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Wearning: +18,smut
Request: yes!
The arena of Wakanda is a whirlwind of voices and tension. You’re in the front row, watching the fight that could change the fate of the nation. Erik Killmonger, with his powerful physique and the scars of his battles, stands tall like a titan against T’Challa, the Black Panther, a man you’ve always admired.
Your heart is pounding. The tension in the air is almost suffocating.
And then it happens. With a decisive move, Erik lifts T’Challa and hurls him off the waterfall. The king falls, his body swallowed by the waters below, and a chilling silence descends upon the arena.
Killmonger turns to face you, the people of Wakanda. His eyes burn with determination and defiance. He moves like a lion that has just claimed its territory. He points at the void left by T’Challa, the king’s body now out of sight.
“Is this your king? Huh? Is this your king?” he shouts, his voice echoing through the mountains. Every word strikes like a blow, every pause weighs heavily on your chest.
Your eyes fill with tears, but you don’t look away. You can’t. You’re frozen, your loyalty torn between the grief of loss and the fear of what’s to come.
“The Black Panther, who’s supposed to lead you into the future! He’s supposed to protect you!” he continues, his voice as sharp as a blade. You feel exposed under his gaze, as if he’s speaking directly to you.
Then he pounds his chest with his fist, his eyes locked onto each of you. “Nah, I’m your king.”
As the crowd remains divided between silence and murmurs, you clench your fists.
After the fight, Erik was sitting on the throne of the kingdom and you voices inside the room where he was. M'Baku tries to stop you but you ignore him. Erik looks at you with a smirk. He leans back on the throne, his smirk still in place, his eyes locking onto yours. M'Baku stands nearby, trying to hold you back.
“What’s this?” Eric says, amusement in his voice. “I have visitors already.”
M’Baku shoots you a warning look, but your eyes stay fixed on Erik as you approach.
“You killed T’Challa,” you blurt out angrily, moving closer to him. M'Baku's eyes widen and he tries to pull you back but you glare at him.Eric’s smirk deepens, almost as if your anger pleases him. He leans forward on the throne, his gaze intense.
“Killed T’Challa?” he repeats, his voice dripping with mockery. “That’s a strong way to put it. I defeated him. Fairly.”M’Baku clenches his jaw, but stays silent, his hand still on your arm, trying to keep you from getting too close.
You glare at Erik as you try to pull away from M'Baku. Eric watches you struggle against M'Baku’s grip, the smirk never leaving his face. He stands up from the throne and slowly approaches you, each step deliberate and filled with authority.
"Seems like you have something to say," he says, his voice taunting yet commanding. "Go on. Speak your mind."You glare at him and were about to speak but M'Baku interrupts you.
“I'm sorry my king, but Y/n is just upset, she doesn't know what she's talking about” he says putting his hand over your mouth warning you not to do anything stupid.You, M'Baku and T'Challa have always been great friends.
Erik smirks, his gaze flicking between you and M'Baku. He moves closer, towering over both of you.
“Upset, huh? I don’t blame her,” he says, his tone slightly mocking, but with a hint of understanding. He turns to M’Baku. “And you think you need to silence her? That’s not very friendly of you, M’Baku.”
M'Baku stiffens, his eyes narrowing at Eric. "I'm not trying to silence her, my king. I'm just trying to prevent her from doing something foolish." You squirm trying to get his hand away from your mouth.
Erik’s smirk broadens as he watches you struggle against M’Baku’s grip. He raises an eyebrow at M’Baku. "Looks like she’s quite feisty. I like my woman feisty."
You look at him in disgust. You were betrothed to T'Challa and since she is now dead and Erik is the king, you were betrothed to him. Erik chuckles at your look of disgust, clearly amused by your reaction. He knows full well the implications of being betrothed to a king.
"Ah, I see you've already realized the situation you're in," he says, his voice filled with a hint of mockery. "As a future queen, you should show me a bit more respect, don’t you think?"
You manage to lift M'baku's hand. "Respect? You are a murderer and I will not be your queen" you blurt out glaring at him. Erik's smirk vanishes. His eyes flash with annoyance as he steps closer to you, his presence suddenly menacing.
"Watch your tongue, princess." His voice is low and dangerous, a clear warning not to push his buttons. "I am your king now whether you like it or not. You would do well to show me some respect."
M'Baku's grip tightens on your arm as he tries to pull you back again, but you stand your ground, your defiance clear in your eyes. "I will never show you respect," you retort, a mix of anger and sadness in your voice. "You killed T'Challa. You betrayed Wakanda. I will never bow to you, you monster!"
Erik's face hardens at your words, his eyes narrowing. He takes a step closer, towering over you. "Monster?" he repeats, his voice laced with irritation. "You think you can lecture me on morality? You have no idea what I've been through. No idea what I've had to do in order to survive. To fight for my people." He takes another step, getting right in your face. "You've lived a privileged life in this golden city. I've lived a life of struggle and pain. Don’t judge me unless you know what I've endured."
You look at him without saying anything. Erik watches you the whole time. “Leave me alone with my future queen,” Erik says to M'Baku without stopping to look at you. M'Baku looks between you and Erik, hesitating for a moment, then he reluctantly lets go of you and leaves the throne room, closing the door behind him.
Now you're alone with Erik, the tension in the room palpable. He studies you intently. He circles you like a predator, his gaze locked onto yours. For a moment, he says nothing, his eyes roaming over your face, your body. Finally, he breaks the silence. "You have a lot of fire in you," he says, his voice low and quiet. "I find that... intriguing."
He stops directly in front of you, his presence overwhelming. "But you need to learn your place. You are mine now. My future queen, like it or not." He reaches out and gently brushes a strand of hair away from your face, his touch surprising in its tenderness.
"You can fight it all you want, but it won’t change a damn thing," he continues, his hand now cupping your chin, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. "You will be my queen. And you will bow to me. Whether you do it out of love or fear, it doesn’t matter. You will bow." He leans even closer, his voice barely above a whisper now. "And I have every intention of earning your submission," he purrs, his eyes flickering down to your lips. "One way or another."
As he leans even closer, his face mere inches from yours, your heart begins to race. You're both angry and flustered by his presence, his words, his touch. His face is so close that you can feel his warm breath on your skin. He’s so tall that you have to tilt your head back to meet his gaze.
"You're a very beautiful woman, you know that?" he whispers, his thumb gently caressing your chin. "I can understand why T'Challa valued you so highly." He leans in even closer, his lips almost brushing against your ear. "But he's gone," he murmurs. "And I’m here. You’re mine now." His words send a strange shiver down your spine, a confusing mix of fear and something else, harder to define.
He pulls away slightly, his eyes searching yours. "You may hate me. You may despise me. But you will be my queen. And you will serve Wakanda as my partner."Erik runs his fingers down your arm, his touch sending another shiver coursing through your body. "And if you don’t... I have ways of making you cooperate."
His words hang in the air, a clear warning. His eyes soften for a brief moment, and a hint of vulnerability sneaks into his gaze. “You’re strong,” he says, his voice almost… sincere? “I respect that. But you can’t win this. You might as well accept it and make the best of it.”
You look at him vulnerable. Erik notices your softening expression, your vulnerability. It throws him off for a moment, he wasn't expecting that reaction. He studies you intently, his eyes searching yours, trying to decipher your thoughts. He can feel a change in you, a chink in your armor of anger and defiance. Erik steps closer, his hand moving to your cheek, his touch gentle.
"You're still angry," he says softly, his thumb tracing the contour of your cheekbone. "I can see it in your eyes. But there's something else. A hint of... resignation?" Erik watches you closely, waiting for a response, the room silent except for his heavy breathing.
You close your eyes for a moment holding back the tears of anger and losing T'Challa. “You killed T’challa,” you whisper weakly. Erik’s eyes soften even more, noticing the pain and weakness in your voice. He takes another step closer, his body now almost pressing against yours.
He places his other hand on your other cheek, gently cupping your face, forcing you to look at him. “Yes,” he whispers back, his voice almost tender. “I did. I had to.”
Tears fall from your eyes and Erik pulls you closer as you try to hit his chest and he lets you do it as he strokes your hair. He lets you push and shove against him, silently taking the blows without resisting. He just holds you closer, his hand soothingly caressing the back of your head as you hit his chest. A strange gentleness is in his eyes, a hint of empathy. He understands your pain and your anger, he sympathizes with you.
"Shh," he whispers quietly, holding you close, letting you cry. "I know it's hard. I understand your pain." Erik rests his chin on the top of your head, his hands rubbing your back in slow, gentle circles. He stays like that for a moment, holding you, letting you cry against his chest, the sound of your sobs filling the room. As your tears slowly subside, he pulls back slightly, tilting your face up to look at him again.
"I know you hate me," he says, his voice filled with more vulnerability than you've ever heard from him. "But I'm not the heartless monster you think I am. I do have a heart, though it's been buried deep for a long time." His eyes roam over your face, taking in your tear-streaked cheeks, your quivering lips. "I didn’t want to take T'Challa from you, but I had no choice. The throne belongs to me. And you..." he pauses, his hand gently tracing your chin. "... You belong to me now too."
He leans closer, his lips hovering just millimeters from yours, so close you can feel his warm breath on your skin. "And maybe, in time, you'll learn to accept that. Maybe even more..." His face is so close to yours that you can barely think straight. His body is almost pressed against yours, the heat of his skin radiating through his clothes.
He's waiting for a reaction, but you don't know what to do. You're still angry, you're still grieving, but there's something else there too, something he's awakening within you... His lips find yours in a surprisingly gentle, almost tentative kiss. It's a stark contrast to his usual rough demeanor. His hands grip your waist, pulling you closer to him.The kiss deepens, his tongue demanding access to your mouth. He kisses you with a hunger and desperation, as if he's been waiting for this moment for a long time.
You kiss him back, holding on to him. He responds to your kiss enthusiastically, his hands roaming over your body, his tongue exploring your mouth with a primal lust. Erik backs you up against the nearest wall, pressing his body against yours, trapping you in his grasp. His hands move from your waist to your hips, pulling you even closer, his fingers digging into your skin. His mouth leaves yours, moving along your jawline, down to your neck, where he nips and kisses the sensitive skin, leaving a trail of goose bumps in its wake. He presses his body into you, his hard muscles rubbing against your soft curves, the heat between you building with every second.
Erik kisses you again and walks back up to his throne, sitting on it making you straddle him as the two of you continue kissing. He sits down on the throne, pulling you onto his lap, your legs on either side of him. He captures your lips in another intense kiss, his hands roaming up and down your body. Erik lifts you slightly, positioning you better on his lap, his body pressed closely against yours. You can feel the heat radiating from him, the desire coursing through his veins, matching your own.
Erik unbuttons your dress, taking it off you without ever taking his lips away from yours. He kisses your chin, your neck, your collarbone, his lips blazing a trail down your body, his fingers roaming across your skin as if he can't get enough of you. His mouth is hot and insistent, his hands desperate as they explore your body. He lifts you again, bringing your chest level with his face, his lips trailing down your neck to your chest, his breath hot on your skin.
You moan softly and cling to him as you move on his lap to be closer. You moan a little louder feeling his erection between your legs. He growls at the sound of your moans, the vibration sending a shiver down your spine. As you grind against him, feeling the hardness between your legs, he grips your hips tightly, holding you in place. Erik looks into your eyes, a dangerous mixture of desire and possessiveness gleaming in his gaze. "You're mine now," he whispers, his voice deep and hoarse. "All mine."
He captures your lips again, silencing you with a deep, urgent kiss. His hands roam over your body, fingers digging into your flesh, leaving behind a trail of fire where they touch. He nips and kisses your neck, your collarbone, his hot breath sending waves of pleasure through you.
“Erik” you groan.
He responds to the sound of his name, his hands gripping you tighter. He leans forward, his mouth moving towards your ear. "I love the sound of you saying my name," he whispers huskily. "Say it again."
“Erik” you repeat. He growls again at the sound of his name on your lips, a low, primal sound. He pulls you closer, his body molding against yours, every inch of him pressed against you.
"Good girl," he purrs, his voice a deep rumble. "Moan my name again. Let me hear how much you want me." You moan as you move your hips making you grind on his erection.
He groans loudly at the feeling of your hips grinding against his erection. He tightens his grip on your hips, almost to the point of pain, trying to control himself. Erik lifts his head from your neck, his eyes dark with desire. “Do you feel what you’re doing to me?” he murmurs, his voice thick with lust. “You're driving me crazy."
You moan feeling Erik slap your ass and move your hips onto him. “Erik” you moan again resting your head in the crook of his neck as he continues to move your hips. He loves the way you moan his name, the way you surrender to the pleasure. Your head in the crook of his neck, your body willingly allowing him to control your move your hips, it’s more than he ever dreamed. Each time you say his name, it spurs him on, his desire burning hotter and hotter with each passing second.
With his left hand he plays with your little thong that you are still wearing while with his right hand he continues to move making you ride him. His left hand slides over you, his fingers slipping beneath the thin material of your thong, caressing your skin. It's so intimate, so possessive, it makes your head spin. Erik continues to control your movements with his hands, his body moving in perfect sync with yours, the friction and heat between you increasing with every motion.
With your head still on his shoulder, he moves his lips to your ear, his breath hot and uneven as he whispers. "You like that don't you? You like how I make you feel. You like being controlled by me."
“Yes,” you moan, moving your hips with the help of his hand. He grins darkly, loving the way you respond to his touch, his control. His hand on your hip tightens, guiding you in the motions.
Erik moves his lips from your ear, down to your neck, his tongue tracing a path across your skin, the heat between you building to almost unbearable heights. He bites down gently on your collarbone, his teeth leaving behind a mark on your skin. A mark that proclaims you as his. He pulls back to admire the mark, a look of satisfaction in his eyes.
“I'm going to come” you whisper as Erik moves his hips again. You had made his jeans wet with your arousal. He groans as you say you're close, the sound sending a shiver through him. He picks up the pace, moving with you, his breath ragged in your ear.
"I can feel you," he growls, his fingers digging into your hip. "You're so close. I can feel it." He adjusts his movements slightly, applying more pressure to your core, his own body clenching in anticipation.
“Erik” you moan feeling close. He smiled looking at you with lust as he slapped your ass. "Who is your king?" he whispers to you with authority. Your eyes meet his, the demand in his voice sending a shiver through you. You reply, your voice breathless. "Y-you are, my king."
His smile widens as you call him your king, a possessive gleam in his eyes. He pulls you closer, his chest against yours, his lips right next to your ear. "And who do you belong to?" He asks, his tone dark and commanding.
"You," you breathe, "I belong to you, my king." You surrender entirely, willingly giving yourself to him, body and soul. He growls again, the sound filled with approval and satisfaction. He kisses you fiercely, his tongue invading your mouth as the two of you continue to move against each other.
"Good girl," he murmurs between kisses, "You'll be a perfect queen."
You moan and come on his jeans. He feels you come on his jeans, the wetness seeping through the fabric and onto his skin. He groans, the primal sound reverberating through his chest. Erik slaps your ass, stopping your movements and then gently caresses your ass while he holds you against him as you bury your face in his neck, his hands now gentler, caressing your ass and soothing you. The moment is intense, intimate, and it solidifies your connection even further.
After a moment, he lifts your chin, forcing you to look at him. His eyes are dark with desire, but there's a hint of softness there too, a vulnerability that he usually hides. "You're mine now," he says, his voice firm, but also tender. "No one else will have you. You understand that, don't you?"
You nod, your gaze locked with his. You understand what he's demanding of you, the commitment he's asking for. It's not a small thing, but it's what he wants, and deep down, it's what you want too. "I understand," you whisper, your voice a soft admission. "I'm yours."
A satisfied smile plays on his lips as you speak the words he's wanted to hear. "Good," he murmurs, his hand still on your chin, keeping you close. "You're mine, and I'll do anything to protect what's mine."
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dxddykenn · 3 months ago
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The Strangers part 2
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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
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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
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sweetiepoison · 10 months ago
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Famous Baby (social media blurb)
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Who’s (Y/f/n) (Y/l/n) Dating Now?
(Y/f/n) (y/l/n) has been in the spotlight since she was 15 so it’s no surprise her relationships have been as well. From first love to whirlwind romance , we’ve seen it all from the singing sensation. She’s mainly been in serious relationships, but the lineup is impressive.
Shawn Mendes
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(Y/l/n) and Mendes came into the spotlight around the same time. The pair met, instantly hit it off, and became the new young Hollywood “it” couple. They dated for three years from 2014-2017 and wrote a few of their hit songs about each other. (Y/f/n)’s song ‘Dandelions’ on her debut album is about Mendes. The love wasn’t one sided though, as Mendes reveled many of his love songs were about (y/l/n). After winning an American Music Award, Mendes said, “All of my songs are about her, so this award is as much hers as it is mine, she’s my inspiration.
We loved watching their young love romance evolve, but the two split in early 2017. (Y/f/n) discussed the breakup on the Jimmy Fallon show. “We just realized we were growing apart and going in different directions, but he will always hold a special place in my heart as my first love and no can ever replace that.”
Harry Styles
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The British singer is (y/l/n)’s longest and most high profile relationship. The two began dating at the end of 2017 and remained together for four years before breaking things off. Their love caught the attention of the world and had many talking. It’s believed Styles hit song, Adore you is about (y/l/n) before they were official.
The couple raised the bar for relationships. Harry took (y/f/n) on a vacation to Greece for her 21st birthday. Which she followed up by throwing him a massive surprise party with all of his close friends and family. When asked about their relationship in an interview (y/l/n) said, “Harry is the type of boyfriend girls dream of. He loves me so well and he wears his heart on his sleeves which is beautiful.”
The breakup came as a surprise to many as it seemed the couple was going strong. It didn’t last for long though as they got back together at the end of 2022 before finally calling it quits mid 2023. Neither have revealed why they split, but both have remained consistent and committed to supporting each other.
Michael B. Jordan
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During her brief break with Harry, (y/f/n) dated Creed actor, Michael B. Jordan. Despite the 11 year age gap the couple had a lot in common and spent plenty of special occasions together. Jordan helped her celebrate her 24th birthday where we got their most infamous pictures together as a couple.
The relationship lasted 10 months before they broke up and (y/l/n) was back with Styles. Despite the sudden end Jordan had only good things to say, “She’s an amazing, hardworking woman who deserves all the success she’s had.”
Auston Matthews
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The newest boyfriend on the list may be NHL superstar, Auston Matthews. An insider reveals they saw Matthews and (y/l/n) at a bar together in Toronto. They were with a group of friends including Justin and Hailey Bieber, but the two seemed particularly close. The pair was also spotted leaving together at the end of the night. While nothing is confirmed, we could definitely get behind this match.
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baewritez · 5 months ago
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Hello.
Before anything I am a BLACK women. Now that is clear let set some healthy boundaries.
No bullying of any kind will be allowed.
No racist comments or racial slurs.
Please be patient with me updating any bodies of work. ( I am only human and a college student.)
Yes request are open however DO NOT SPAM my dm box.
Be respectful of my writing choices.
Not following this will result in automatic blocking. Now that is clear I would like to introduce myself. Hello , my name is Bae. I am 24 years old , I hail from sunny Miami ,Florida , and I am a Leo and Cancer clasp. I write black women romance and adult fanfiction with a focus on plus size and curvy women. The request box is open and i will be updating and posting new work every Wednesday. Love you all and welcome to Baewritez.
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ghostsprettymama · 2 years ago
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HIS PRINCESS
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Headcannons for Erik kilmonger (N’jadaka) in a new series coming due to voting.
Erik loving when you use the Theluji version of Xhosa (the same but its more rich, yet soft and fierce)
WOULD START ARGUEMENTS JUST SO YOU USE YOUR NATIVE TONGUE
He knows xhosa fluently, but pretends to not know it when you confess to him in xhosa.
USING HIS BIRTH NAME !!
it makes him bonkers.
Like. Deadass he loves you addressing him as N'jadaka, using any other name would make him think youre mad at him. you only used that name on him since you were four.
He likes the way it rolls off your tongue, would make you moan it during sex js to make him do what you want
"please Erik i need it please." "use my right name, you what to say baby." "fuck me nice n good N'Jadaka !" n he listens
WEAK SPOTS FOR U
He has a weak spot for when you wear your dresses and formal wear.
likes seeing you all high and mighty, HE LOVES. a woman in control
Making you cry in bed is his turn on, out of bed he gets so soft for you. " dont cry angel, youll get sick. dont let nobody make my Princess cry but me. just let me know who and ill handle it."
his love language?
Okay this man is so confusing
he switches love languages alot
like more then he should.
He would bring,make or buy gifts for you out of love and wouldnt expect anything back. this man will have statues carved for your beauty.
He reclaimed his title as one of the princes of wakanda , which equals to many women being envious, but Erik dresses you nice, then shows you off.
deffinently big on praising and physical intimacy.
for a "scary" guy he LOVES holding your hand or holding you in general, not a love language hes just an ass
EXTRAA
he indeed does sing
an amazing voice too
only sings you to sleep though
Fic : His Princess
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mrshargreeves · 3 months ago
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if you post a good pic on here best believe i WILL be reposting it to pinterest
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ace-theog · 2 months ago
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I love reading y'all storied but can y'all stop making these men, the main problem. Yes his communication might suck ( which you did) but dam can he have time to ponder, the problem only just came up or y/n BEEN thinking on this and want him to respond how she wants him to and when he doesn't or he not ready to open up. BOOM the no longer together well dam can he think first. Ik these are Fanfiction and they usually get back together but Fuck had to rant.
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dee-writes-angst · 2 years ago
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GOD, PLEASE NO (Chapter One)
FEATURING Joel Miller x first-person!reader
SUMMARY it was just a normal day; coming home to your loving husband and newborn son-- until it wasn't and suddenly you had lost the other half of your soul
CONTENT WARNINGS domestic lovin', angst, death, grief, major traumatic events, end of the world
AUTHORS NOTE I don't have much to say other than buckle up ;)
SERIES MASTERLIST
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The beginning of our story is a chaotic tangle of violence, harsh language, and gore. So, let's start somewhere simpler before diving into all that mess. When I look back on this time, it’s a mix of fond memories and deep sadness. These memories take me to a dark place, but to understand how I ended up where I am now, you need to know the reasons behind my actions and the person I’ve become. Maybe it sounds like I'm just making excuses for actions that can’t be excused, but you need to hear the whole truth to make your own judgment.
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2013
“Ty! I’m home!” I shout as I drop my keys into the bowl by the front door, letting out a long sigh of relief. I shrug off my eggplant-colored coat and toss it onto the rack next to the door.
“Kitchen!” a strong male voice calls from the left side of the house. A smile spreads across my face as I make my way through the cozy living room and into our small, inviting kitchen. There, I find my wonderful husband stirring a pot of something that smells absolutely heavenly, all while gently bouncing our sweet seven-month-old baby on his hip.
“Aww, look at my sweet housewife,” I chuckle, dropping onto the stool in front of our tiny island with a sigh. Our home wasn't grand, but it was perfect for us and the future we were building together. The kitchen had a somewhat hideous yellow backsplash, the kind that seemed straight out of the 70s, clashing with the modern stainless steel appliances we managed to squeeze into the small space. There were two small bedrooms: one barely fit our queen-size bed, two oak side tables, and a mismatched dresser, while the other served as the nursery with a bright white crib, a rocking chair, and shelves filled with baby toys and books. As I said, small but perfect.
“Don’t get used to it,” he grumbles, turning to show me his beautiful, teasing smile, his eyes sparkling with humor. He’s still bouncing our baby, who giggles and reaches out for me with chubby little hands. “How was work?”
“Exhausting,” I respond, feeling the weight of the day in my bones as I rise from the stool. I press a gentle kiss to Tyrone's warm, chocolate-colored skin before scooping our son into my arms. The fabric of my scrubs, stained with the day’s toil, serves as a testament to the challenges I faced at work.
“I can see that,” Tyrone chuckles softly, his eyes dancing with affection as he takes in my tired appearance. He leaves the food simmering on the stove, choosing instead to pull me close for a lingering kiss, a welcome respite from the day's hustle and bustle.
“How ‘bout you go lay on the couch with Amir? He missed his momma today,” Tyrone suggests with a warmth that melts away the exhaustion clinging to me.
I offer him a grateful smile, reciprocating with another tender kiss before making my way into the living room. With a relieved sigh, I sink into the plush cushions of our cool gray couch, the soft fabric a comforting embrace after a long day. Amir nestles into my arms, his small body radiating warmth and innocence. As I glance around our cozy living space, my heart swells with gratitude for the simple joys it holds. The walls adorned with framed photographs capture precious moments frozen in time, while shelves lined with well-loved books and toys bear witness to the life we've built together. Draped over the arm of the couch, a soft throw blanket invites me to wrap myself in its comforting embrace. It may not be the grandest of spaces, but it's filled with an abundance of love and warmth that makes it feel like home.
“Hello, my sweet boy,” I murmur tiredly, a soft smile gracing my lips as I press kisses to my son's chubby cheeks before pulling him close to my chest. Amir responds with a contented coo, his tiny fingers reaching out to grasp at the gold necklace adorning my neck, each delicate link bearing his initials. As he tugs at the chain, I find myself captivated by the sight of him, noting the striking resemblance he bears to his father. The same strong nose, the beautiful dark skin that seems to glow in the soft light of the room, and the beginnings of thick black hair already sprouting on his head. His brows, bushy and expressive, draw my attention, and I can't help but adore every feature, whether inherited from Tyrone or unique to our little bundle of joy.
Yet, amidst the sea of familiar traits, I also catch glimpses of myself reflected in Amir's features. His bright blue eyes, reminiscent of the sky on a clear summer's day, hold a spark of curiosity and wonder. His lips, full and plump, part in the occasional sleepy smile, mirroring my own. And though his hair, straight and fine, contrasts with his father's curls, there's a subtle hint of my own straight, stringy locks in the way it awkwardly curls at the ends.
Lost in this quiet admiration, I'm jolted back to the present by the gentle weight of Amir's sleeping form against my chest, his soft breaths lulling me into a sense of peace. I glance up to find Tyrone standing before me, a fond smile playing on his lips as he gazes at the scene before him.
“Stalker,” I tease, a playful smirk dancing on my lips as I catch his eye, careful not to disturb the slumbering baby nestled against me.
“Dinner is done. I can take him so you can go eat,” Tyrone offers gently, his voice a soothing melody in the midst of the evening calm. I offer him a grateful smile, relinquishing our sleeping son into his capable arms. As Tyrone cradles Amir close, I take a moment to admire the scene before me—the way Amir nestles trustingly against his father’s chest, his tiny fingers curled into fists, and the way Tyrone’s expression softens as he gazes down at our child with a tender love that never fails to warm my heart.
“Hey,” I whisper, rising from the stool and crossing the kitchen to press a loving kiss to Tyrone’s thin lips. “Thank you for taking care of us.”
“Of course, it's what I'm here for,” he replies, his voice a gentle reassurance as he pulls me into a warm embrace with his unoccupied arm. I lean into his embrace, finding solace in the familiar rhythm of his heartbeat against my chest.
“I love you,” I whisper, my words a soft declaration of the love that binds us together.
“And I love you,” Tyrone responds, his voice a whisper against my hair as he tightens his hold around me, his touch a comforting anchor in the midst of life’s uncertainties.
With a final kiss pressed to my forehead, Tyrone heads upstairs to put Amir to sleep, leaving me alone in the quiet kitchen. I turn my attention to the counter, where a tantalizing aroma wafts from a large bowl of shrimp glazed with what I can only assume is Tyrone’s secret spicy cream sauce. My stomach rumbles in anticipation as I take a bite, savoring the explosion of flavor that dances across my taste buds.
After finishing my meal, I make my way upstairs, shedding my dirty scrubs in favor of a soft, oversized shirt that undoubtedly belongs to Tyrone. I slip beneath the covers of our bed, nestling into the warmth of his embrace. With Tyrone’s arms wrapped securely around me, I finally allow myself to relax, the exhaustion of the day washing over me in gentle waves. As sleep claims me, I find solace in the knowledge that I am surrounded by love, my heart full and content in the embrace of my husband.
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“Baby! Baby! Wake up!” A frantic voice pierces through the haze of sleep, jolting me from my dreams. I blink rapidly, trying to shake off the remnants of slumber as I sit up in bed.
“Wha- Ty, what are you doing?” I mumble, my voice thick with sleep as I rub the drowsiness from my eyes. As my vision clears, I find Tyrone standing before me, a look of urgency etched on his features, our baby cradled tightly in his arms.
“We need to go, c’mon!” he urges, his grip firm as he takes my hand and pulls me to my feet.
“What are you talking about?” I protest, feeling a surge of confusion as I stumble towards the dresser in the corner of the room. With trembling hands, I yank open a drawer filled with an array of pants, my fingers fumbling as I hastily grab a pair of thick leggings and a pair of socks from the drawer above. I shoot Tyrone a questioning glance, waiting for him to provide an explanation amidst the chaos.
“There’s something going on, something bad, and we need to go. Everyone's freaking out, people are acting crazy, and we're not safe here. Please, honey, can you try to move a little faster?” Tyrone's voice cracks with emotion, tears welling in his eyes as he cradles our son's soft head in his arms.
Feeling a surge of adrenaline, I hasten to slip on a pair of shoes, the urgency of Tyrone's words fueling my movements. Together, we hurry downstairs, the urgency of the situation propelling us forward. I rush to the closet and retrieve the baby carrier, strapping it securely to my chest as Tyrone carefully places our wailing son inside. With trembling hands, I grab the coat I had hung on the rack just hours ago, wrapping its warmth around myself and our precious child.
Once bundled up and ready to go, we burst outside into the cool night air, the sound of keys jingling in Tyrone's hand as he runs alongside me. Without hesitation, we make a beeline for the car, our hearts pounding in sync with the rhythm of our hurried footsteps.
It all unfolds in a terrifying whirlwind, each moment blurring into the next with a rapidity that leaves me reeling. The danger materializes so suddenly, so violently, that I barely have time to comprehend it before my beloved husband is sprawled on the ground, his lifeblood spilling from a savage wound as one of our neighbors descends upon him with savage ferocity.
In that harrowing instant, time seems to slow to a crawl, the world around me grinding to a halt as I stand frozen in shock. My mind struggles to process the nightmare unfolding before me, the sight of Tyrone's helpless form under the frenzied assault of our neighbor searing itself into my consciousness like a branding iron.
The piercing cries of my son shatter the eerie stillness, ripping through the air like a siren's wail and jolting me back to reality with a visceral jolt. With a surge of adrenaline, I'm propelled into action, my body moving on instinct alone as I race towards the scene of carnage, every fiber of my being screaming with a desperate urgency to protect my family.
Snatching up a rock from the ground, my fingers close around it with a vice-like grip as I charge forward, propelled by a primal scream torn from the depths of my soul. Each step reverberates with the thundering beat of my heart, the world narrowing down to a singular focus as I zero in on the woman atop my husband, her frenzied assault driving me to the brink of madness.
With a primal roar, I bring the rock crashing down upon her skull, the sickening impact sending shockwaves of horror rippling through my trembling frame. Yet even as she falls, her body limp and lifeless, I cannot stop. Tears blur my vision as I rain blow after blow upon her motionless form, the relentless barrage of violence a stark testament to the storm of grief and rage raging within me.
Amidst the chaos, Amir's cries pierce through the haze of my anguish, a haunting lament of fear and confusion that serves as a chilling reminder of the stakes at hand. In that agonizing moment, as I kneel beside the broken bodies of my loved ones, I am consumed by a primal instinct to protect, to fight back against the encroaching darkness with every fiber of my being.
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butterphii · 8 months ago
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idk who to write abt, help me please!!
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adorbz15 · 2 years ago
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Heyyyyyyy this is my new account!! Just wanted to say I love 1.Barbie 2.MBJ
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bigbadjelly · 2 years ago
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Gone Baby, Don’t Be Long
E42!Miles x reader
2.9k wrds
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COLLEGE AU 💜You meet Miles during the summer break between freshman and sophomore year of college, and during the year you start developing feelings for him.
warnings: language, suggestive, drinking, oblivious reader
➽──────────────❥
He met you in a club, dancing like you were looking for somebody. Miles couldn’t help but give in once you made eye contact.
Dancing with you made him feel intoxicated, your smile made him borderline dizzy. Once the song ended he walked you to the bar.
“You’re beautiful,” was the first thing he said to you.
“Thanks. You too.”
You internally slapped yourself. He laughed, covering his smile. Shit. This guy was Micheal B Jordan level handsome. The purple bar lighting made his dark skin glow. It accentuated his muscles peaking from his jacket.
You sipped on your drink, feeling the substance warm your chest.
“Whatchu doin after this?”
You.
“Nothin ma, you tryna come over?”
A smile was your answer. You swayed next to him while waiting for the uber. You definitely drank more than you thought.
Miles took notice, holding your hand and bringing your back to his chest. He leaned down to whisper in your ear:
“Lean on me, mami”
You fell asleep on his shoulder on the drive to his place. He picked you up and carried you inside, laying you on his bed before sleeping on the couch.
You woke up in his bed to him making breakfast. He was playing a record: New Amerykah Part Two by Erykah Badu. It was a special edition with a purple record.
Immediately you geeked out, singing along in your smudged makeup and wrinkled dress, in the apartment of a man you’d known for less than 18 hours, chatting about the greatest neo-soul artist of all time.
“You like plantains, ma?”
“Obviamente.”
It was a fast friendship.
➽──────────────❥
“Friendship.”
It’s been months. Miles has either lost his game, or you are severely ignorant. How could he be friends with a beautiful girl that listened to the same music as him?
When he found out you both attended the same university, he invited you to a study date. Clearly he didn’t emphasize the ‘date’ part enough.
Here you were, on his couch in your pajama pants and one of Mile’s shirts, looking beautiful; talking about a cute guy you saw at the Taco Bell drive through.
You looked up from your laptop to see his deadpan expression.
“What’s the stank face for?”
“I dunno, (Y/N). What you talkin’ about other guys for?”
“Who else am I gonna tell?”
He kissed his teeth and looked back down at his work. You were used to it. Miles was a touch and go kind of guy, you could never really tell how he’d react.
Sometimes you would think you barely knew him. He was sweet around you, but most other people seemed to steer away. He was rarely without a bruise or two or a scratch. You wondered where he got them.
You still liked him. Every time you hung out with him you cursed yourself for not making a move the first night he brought you over. But since he never pulled anything like that, you figured your attraction was unrequited.
(You were wrong, by the way)
➽──────────────❥
You and Miles shared a Sociology class, and after a tough final exam you really wanted to surprise him with something nice.
You tried to think of foods he liked, but it was difficult. Anytime you hung out together he always insisted on getting whatever you wanted.
Close to giving up, you texted his old high school roommate you remembered meeting at a party Miles brought you to a while back.
———————————————————————
YOU: GANKE!! THIS IS URGENT!!
YOU: what is miles favorite food 🙏🏼
GANKE: who is tjis
YOU: 😒
YOU: y/n
GANKE: oh shit!
GANKE: miles gf
GANKE: idk probably tostones
YOU: awesome thanks
YOU: also we’re not dating
GANKE: …
GANKE: sure
———————————————————————
Tostones were easy enough. After getting ingredients and frying them, you put them in a lunchbox with some guacamole.
As an afterthought you grabbed some Coronas and some limes and left your dorm to catch the bus to Mile’s apartment.
On the way over you were deep in thought. You met Miles last summer, and you had been friends for close to a year.
You were always sleeping at his place, studying with him, eating with him, partying with him. You knew his family. He knew yours.
He wasn’t your best-friend. Because what you felt definitely wasn’t friendly. It was hungry. You ached for him. You wore his clothes for gods sake.
Shoving the baggage out of your mind, the bus came to a stop a block away from his building.
You knocked once.
Twice.
Three times?
Okay. So maybe he went somewhere else after taking the test. But he did say he was going home…
In your mind you weigh using the key he gave to to unlock his front door and let yourself in vs. being a normal person and giving up.
A soft thud from inside shifts your decision to the latter. You enter the apartment quietly, setting your bags and shoes on the floor before entering the living room.
It was an eery type of quiet. You heard wind flowing through an open window in another room down the hallway. A low groan, and another soft thump.
“Miles?”
The shuffling coming from the other room came to a dead stop. You made your way down to Mile’s room, turning and—
“¡Díos mío!”
You ran to a slumped Miles, covered in shallow cuts that were bleeding profusely. You touched a hand to his face, and he inhaled sharply, taking your hand in his and bringing it to his lips.
“Hola mami,”
“Are you fucking serious Morales? ¿Qué pasó?”
“Eso no es mi culpa,”
He let out a laugh that turned into a shallow cough. Your throat tightened, and you felt your eyes turn shiny.
Okay. Focus. First Aid.
“Miles. Where do you keep your first aid kit?”
“De…Debajo de la cama,” He strained.
You opened it to find most of the supplies depleted. With paper towels and clean water from the kitchen you dabbed at his face, frowning at his pained expression.
Being this close to his face should have had you rejoicing. You ran your hands along every curve of his head, your thumb swiping his bruised lip.
There was a larger cut near his scalp you were being especially careful of. Embarrassed, but determined, you stood on your knees with his legs tucked between yours, and his head leaned towards your chest as you cleaned and applied ointment to his scalp. A few butterfly bandaids finished the job.
“Done.”
He suddenly lifted his face to meet yours, and you fell back, your butt landing on his thighs as his hands reached up to catch your hips. He was impossibly close, maybe three centimeters was between your noses. You could see his speckled brown irises, a million shades of beautiful. You were breathing heavy. He moved closer, his eyelashes brushing yours as he looked down at your lips and
“I—um. I brought you tostones. and beer,”
The trance broke. His eyes met yours and he broke out in a grin that had you blushing all the way to your toes. You scrambled off of him and apologized for if you hurt him.
“Don’t flatter yourself, you couldn’t hurt me if you tried,”
Miles used the window to pull himself up, straining as he did so. you wrapped an arm around his waist and led him to the living room. After he was sat on the couch, you went to get the (now cold) tostones.
As you handed him a beer your hands brushed and he gave you the same look as earlier when you were on top of him.
Shit— was he going to kiss you then? Did you ruin it? You drank half your beer quickly, drowning the thought.
“Aye, you good ma?”
Misreading, Miles kicked himself for letting you find him like this. He thought you were drinking over his injuries.
Grabbing your empty hand, he held it, and looked at you all serious.
“Baby I want you to know that I trust you. And I know you aren’t some moral saint but I gotta let you know something about me that isn’t lawful,”
He was tipsy. You were tipsy. Miles felt his truth flowing from him to you, intoxicating him further. It was just like that first night. He had wanted to kiss you so bad, to do more than that. But you were drunk. Shit, he was drunk too.
He closed his eyes, breathing. Feeling your hand in his, small and un-calloused against his rough skin.
“Y/n. I’m the Prowler,”
Opening his eyes to see your reaction, he was caught off guard by your wide grin.
“…Yknow I could be emo and shit, Morales, and tell you that our relationship is over because you’re some type of vigilante,”
Your words slurred, your eyelids low. You said relationship instead of friendship on purpose. Feeling him hanging off of your words, you kept it slow.
“But…”
You bring both hands to his cut up, bandaged, and tipsy face.
“I know you’re a good person. People gotta do shit they don’t wanna do. I know you worry about your mama and how she’s living—“
You sigh.
“Miles I grew up in Brooklyn. I know how it is. My family survived by doing some illegal shit. I’m not gonna lie and say I love what you’re doing but please don’t d—“
You don’t know when you started crying. Miles wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you into a hug. With your face in his neck and hand twisted in his shirt you cry. Embarrassing and ugly, heaves wracking your chest.
“Please don’t die on me, Miles,”
You feel his body shaking, and pull back thinking he’s laughing at you. He’s not. Miles G Morales is crying.
“Oh jevo—“
You don’t think about how easily the name slips from your lips. You pull him into you. His cheek on your chest as he shakes and holds onto you like a life raft.
He falls asleep like that. You, with your back against the cushions, him slotted between your legs with his head on your chest.
Mile’s weight and even breathing puts your to sleep, your fingers caressing the curls at the nape of his neck.
➽──────────────❥
“Hey, Y/n, I love…” Too much.
“What’s up Y/n, are you free later?” Nah, that shit didn’t work last time…
“Do you want to go on a real date sometime Y/n?” Fuck.
Miles drags his hand down his face with a groan. You really have him whipped, cause he’s been standing in front of the mirror for half an hour talking to himself.
A week ago when he’d told you he was the prowler he thought that was progress towards a more… romantic type of relationship.
Almost like he was giving you the amount of trust he needed for this to really work out. Jesus, he needed to man up.
Why is killing people so much easier than asking out the girl you like?
It was almost concerning how easily you accepted him. You were too good for him. You were everything good.
The way you smelled, the way you walked, the way you got along with his mom, the way you always—
*knock knock*
Showed up at the right time.
Miles walked over to the window next to the fire escape and unlocked it. As soon as it was open, you launched yourself at him.
“Hey—hey ma chill!” He exclaimed as he stumbled backwards, arms wrapping around you.
You stared up at him, chin on his chest. After getting off work, you decided to head right over to Mile’s and spill all your feelings.
Your favorite coworker had recently asked out her now boyfriend, and it inspired you to be bold. But…
Now that you were here and wrapped around him, it felt less easy.
“What’s on your mind N/n?” Miles asked, guiding you to sit next to him on his bed.
“Um… I just got off work and wanted to… I dunno. See you, I guess. Sorry. I sound dumb and I definitely smell like frying oil.”
He grinned at you, tucking a stray curl behind your ear.
“How about you shower, mami? You got clothes here. I don’t gotta see Unc until 9.”
You nodded, getting up and turning to hide your dumb smile. Why was he so romantic and handsome? Someone needed to detain you before you jumped his ass.
You walked into the living room in a towel. Miles laid back on the couch watching soccer.
“Hey, Morales, can you tell me where the—“
He turned to look at you, his eyes widening before slapping his hands over his eyes
“Aye mami where yo clothes at!” He shouted turning away from you.
“You never seen a girl naked before Morales?” You quipped.
Usually he would have a response but he seemed almost shy. Weird.
“I put your clothes in the dryer. It’s your nike shorts and that Aaliyah shirt you stole from Ma”
“Cool. Thanks.”
When you arrive back in the living room properly dressed Miles lets out a sigh of relief.
Something in him felt guilty for relishing the glance he caught of you with water droplets still clinging to your skin, and towel stopping at the top of your thighs.
“Do you have a blow dryer?” Your words knock him out of his trance.
“Yeah. Follow me, it’s in the bathroom.”
Miles plugs it into the wall, and you feel a pang in your chest.
“Did your girlfriend leave this here Morales?”
Miles laughs.
“I dunno, did you?” He replies.
That shut you up real quick.
He grabs a boar hair brush and blow drys your wet curls straight section by section. He’s gentle, a soft smile resting on his face as he works.
As he moves to unplug the blow dryer you turn around, facing him with your back against the bathroom counter.
Once again, your find your faces close, his hovering above you now that you’re both standing.
“You got to stop playing with me Miles, or I’m gonna think you’re serious”
“About what, ma?”
“Don’t play dumb. You know I like you and you still—“
“I didn’t know that.” He says softly, breath catching in his throat.
“I didn’t know you liked me.” His hand found your cheek, stroking the soft skin.
“Well..” You say, your voice shaking. “Now you do. So—“
His lips catch yours suddenly, and you gasp into the kiss before leaning into him. Your arms stretch up to wrap around his neck, burying him in your lips.
His hands hold your face, tilting you to the side as his tongue pokes though your lips deepening the kiss. You moan at the action and his takes the opportunity to grab your thighs and set your butt on the counter behind you, putting your faces closer.
His hand finds your lower back and you arch into him as he kisses you dizzy. His lips are soft against yours, and he tastes delicious. His small whimpers send shivers down your spine.
He pulls away suddenly, his eyes lidded as he breathes heavily. His lips are shiny.
“Y/n, you wanna go on a real date sometime?”
“You have to say it first.”
“Say what?”
“I said it, so you have to say it. Say you like me, Morales” You cross your arms across your chest.
He chuckles, hands leaving your thighs to hang at his sides.
“I can’t do that,”
“Why not?” You frown.
“I don’t like you,” The fuck?
“I love you, Y/n. So much.” Miles moves closer to you, kissing you.
It’s softer this time. He pulls away and wraps his arms around you. You do the same, hitting him on the back. He leans back to look at you, tears welling in your eyes.
“Woah, woah, hey ma I’m sorry I shouldn’t have joked like that-“
“I love you Miles Morales.”
His eyes widen and he laughs. You hit him in the shoulder, tears dripping down your face as you cry.
“Why *hick* are you laughing dickhead?!”
“Cause my girl being ridiculous and crying cause she loves me so much.”
“Your girl, huh?” He wipes your tears with his thumbs, drying his hands on his shirt.
“Yeah. You’ve always been my girl. But now we can be kissing and shit”
“And shit?”
“What, you need an example, ma?” You squeal as he hoists you up, wrapping your legs around his waist as he carries you back to bed.
➽──────────────❥
Miles wakes up to his 8:30 alarm. The sky is dark. You shift next to him, still asleep. He kisses the top of your head and drags the blanket to your shoulders before getting out of bed to get his Prowler getup on.
He stands in the living room, twisting his mechanical glove onto his hand as he hears you shuffling into the room.
“Miles?” You rub sleep out of your eyes and look at the soft purple glow in the dark room. You’d never seen Miles in his Prowler suit in person. Only on the news.
“Hey ma. I gotta head out for a bit,”
You walk over to him quickly and wrap him in a hug, the cold metal of his claws rest on your back.
“Come back and be safe Morales. I’m not leaving until I see you come back through that window.”
“You got it ma.” He pecks your lips and closes the window, jumping from the fire escape. You sigh, walking back into Mile’s bedroom and tucking yourself alone under the covers.
Gone baby, don’t be long.
➽──────────────❥
first fic🤭 (on this tumblr) pls enjoy and ignore any errors because i am literally just a girl
i also have a 1610!Miles fic in the works. It’s getting long so part 1 may be coming soon. Love ya!
(Actually one last thing: “Debajo de la cama” is also a lyric in Lo Busqué by Ana Bárbara)
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dxddykenn · 3 months ago
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OBSESSED FACECLAIMS
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Terrence “Terry” Richmond
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Y/n
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Daisy “Dai” Wilson - your best friend
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John Wilson - Daisy’s Husband and Terrys best friend
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Sasha Young
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celebrityyimaginees · 2 years ago
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Imagine Michael being asked how he felt when you gave him a little shout out in your speech.
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Whatchu Gonna Do About It
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Erik Steven (Killmonger) X Reader Drabble
Warning: Language, Sexual situation
Fandom: MCU, Black Panther
A/N: Very short n’ sweet. Let me know what y’all think! I have about three other fic planned with this character would you guys like  to see them?
“Fuck you got all this god damn ass.” Erik mumbled as he kneeled behind you staring down at you.
“Yeah, whatchu gonna do about it.” You giggled as you looked over your shoulder at him. You had been lounging across the bed on your stomach when Erik had come into the room and crawled into bed behind you. He kneeled on the sheets with his knees on either side of you
“Imma wreck yo shit that’s what I’m gonna do." He mumbled looking down at your thong covered ass. It was black and lacy and didn’t leave much to the imagination.
“Then what are you waiting for?” You teased.
The thong which had been one of your favorites didn’t last long. Erik was quick to reach down and begin ripping the fabric like it was paper. The material bit at your skin harshly before finally giving and the telltale sound of fabric ripping filling the room.
“Erik.” You yelped. “I loved those.”
“Hush and get on yo knees.” He ordered and you wanted to protest but the feeling of him kneading at your ass was enough to push you to move.
“You owe me some new underwear.” You continued to complain.
“Arch yo shit and quit bitchin.” Was his only response.
Once again you did as told, spreading your knees slightly before leaning back down on the bed with your ass in the air.
“Ghad damn ma, I'll buy you all the fuckin’ panties you want if you just keep still just like that.”
He didn’t have to tell you twice.
And of course, needless to say, he followed through on his promise, more than happy to sit through you trying on and showing off all the lingerie you had bought with his credit card.
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