#trevante fan fiction

[henneseyhoe]

Princess.

Trevante Rhodes x BLACK!FEM!reader

WARNINGS: SUB!reader, DOM!trevante, thigh riding, size kink, breeding kink, rough s*x, reader and Tre are married but it isn’t implied, daddy kink, no protection(wrap it before ya smack it), just really nasty chile…

SUMMARY: how Trevante acts with his pretty princess <3 (I was in heat writing this, sorry in advance)

Ps. Inspo from @notapradagurl7 recent fic <3

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He’s so exhausted when he comes home from his big boy job but seeing her gives him so much energy. He just wants to pull her into his lap and hold her, letting her ramble about her day and tell him all about the new things she learned and all the things she bought when she went out shopping.

“Tell daddy what you got” He’d say as she bounced excitedly on his thighs, innocent and unknowingly waking up a demon that was kept under wraps since early that morning. He just didn’t wanna wake his baby so early. She’d go on and on about all the cute clothes she found and the purses she bought online, the good food she ate and the nap she took before he arrived. He’d listen and pretend his dick wasn’t growing hard under her ass.

How he’d run baths for her when he was home, adding her favorite scent and bubbles to the water as she’d put her hair in a ponytail to avoid wetting it. She’d ask nicely to be carried to the tub because her legs were just too sore after being fucked until she blacked out and forgot her name. Her knees also aching from being on them for so long, taking his dick deep down her throat until she choked and a strong gag forced him to pull out before he was painting her face with his cum. She already felt so full of him even with his essence leaking out of her and dripping down her thigh, there was no way she would make it to the bathroom.

When she’d do something that was on the “no-no” list and he’d make her pick her own punishments. He’d ask if she deserved an easy one and she’d nod with teary eyes, already having a stinging bottom from the spankings he gave her earlier for touching herself while he was at work. He’d shake his head with a ‘tsk’ and simply throw her over his shoulder, carrying her to their playroom.

And that time she had made him play with her, forcing a game of hide and seek before he’d give up in frustration from not finding her for over ten minutes. She’d giggle and reveal she was hiding in the coat closet the whole time and as obvious as it was, he still hadn’t found her.

He wasn’t always a nice daddy. He had his limits when she just wouldn’t listen. Those were the times where he either made her cum back to back with no break until their sheets were soaking wet or he’d refuse to let her cum at all, watching her cry and beg as he’d take the vibrator away from her swollen and overstimulated clit any time she made that face.

He loved when she was desperate for him. She was just too cute. There were times where he’d go on business trips for days and come back to her needy than ever. She’d do anything for him just to have a simple touch.

When he suspected her to have touched herself in that time of need and he’d refuse to give her what she wanted, but he’d let her ride his thigh like the needy crybaby she was. Her panties were so damn wet that when she rose up off of him she left a wet spot on his slacks, proof of how much she had came just from that little bit of release.

“You miss daddy? I know you did, princess” He smiles, those pearly whites shining at her. She melts from the sight.

He loved her reaction when he’d fill her up unexpectedly. He slams into her with that last rough stroke and she’d let a small gasp fall from those plump lips that were once glossed before Trevante had basically kissed it all off. She could feel the liquid threatening to drip from her entrance and she could only hope that was what would get her pregnant with his baby.

She couldn’t help but think of carrying his seed and getting turned on. Sometimes she’d purposely make him cum inside of her so he’d go to work with empty balls and she’d get to run errands filled to the brim with him. Sometimes she’d even stop by a few maternity stores while she was at it too, just out of curiosity(not) before scurrying off to do something else.

He was so sweet. He’d buy her gifts she had been wanting for a long time, no matter how useless or weird it was to him or anybody else, he knew she wanted it and anything princess wanted, princess got. She even had her own room, decorated how she liked with her favorite colors and favorite things.

He was only ever rough with her when she wanted him to be, which was most of the time, but there were times where she wanted to be soft too, and he supplied that also. Some small gestures like fixing the bow in her hair or helping her reach something on the top shelf….or slowly fucking into her as he cradled her head in his large hands, looking into her soft eyes while she pouted, her tummy feeling butterflies every time he’d hit her special spot. He was so tired and fucked out, but he couldn’t stop until he and his princess was drained completely.

The way he ate her out alone was soft. He licked and slurped on her pretty little pearl, complementing her on how good she tasted and how daddy could eat her for hours. She would try not to close her legs and push him away.

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🏷️ @thatone-girly @notapradagurl7 @swavydadon @miyahmaraj @planetblaque @msinterludee @milkiboo @bloodripleygal @stevelacyballs @naj-ay444 @blackelysian @shaolyninferno

[megamindsecretlair]

Mr. Black, Part 1

Pairing: Tre x Assistant!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. PWP, cursing, PIV, fingering (fem receiving), dirty talk, praise kink, dumbass reader, degradation kink, power imbalance, Tre is a boss, all consensual.

Summary: Tre is sick and tired of the countless mistakes you make while performing your work duties. You were recently hired and just trying to do your best, but nothing is ever good enough for him.

Word Count: 4,099k

A/N: Listen, Idk what happened. He's barely in 2 mins of the film and it broke my brain. That outfit and that smile was too much for me to handle! Idk how many parts this will be. Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! And please put ages in bios! Or get blockt!

Masterlist | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 - Completed

Tagging the usual lovelies, please tell me if you want to be removed: @planetblaque @browngirldominion @notapradagurl7 @honeyoriginalz @blackerthings @sevikasblackgf @henneseyhoe @miyahmaraj

Shit! He was going to kill you. You whined as the numbers swam in your vision. You desperately looked between two invoices, wondering how you were going to solve this before he found out. 

Your leg bounced as your nerves unraveled the longer you stared at the documents. Shit! You were done for. Your stupid little job was over before you had even gotten started. Your bottom lip quivered. There was no way you were going to recover from this.

Tre’s heavy footsteps pounded the carpet on approach and your heart dropped into your stomach. Shit! 

You pushed the papers on your desk into one huge pile that you’ll painstakingly unravel in the safety of your home. You tapped a few keys on the computer, trying to look busy. He did not need to know that you had been staring at your egregious mistake for the past half hour. 

“Do you have that report I told you to do?” Tre asked, once he reached his office. 

“Yes, Sir,” you said. You gave him a dumb ass, goofy smile. You handed over the report in a yellow folder. He snatched it from you, not sparing you a glance, and stalked into the office. The door slam made you flinch. 

You weren’t even sure why you stuck around this job. You were recently hired to help with the background work stuff while people all around you were getting fired. Tre had been leading that charge. 

Ever since you got hired, you wondered if he hated you. He barely said anything to you except to insult your hard work. Look, the workforce was hard, okay? There’s a lot of shit that school or life doesn’t teach you. More often than not, you had to hide your scrolling on Youtube for any kind of help. 

Even when he was in a good mood, flashing those pearly whites and that sinful smile, it immediately froze whenever you entered the room. Your good mood would evaporate and then you were falling all over yourself trying to correct whatever the issue was.

His coffee was too cold, too black, too sweet. His blinds were up too high and he had a nasty glare. This report was wrong, that report was wrong. No, this wasn’t the one he wanted. Yes, this was the one he wanted. Run out and get some lunch. Well, you took too long, I don’t want it anymore. 

It was exhausting working for the man, but some part of you wanted a crumb of his praise. Just a crumb. You could survive off of it. You knew you sounded pathetic. Your friends and family were getting sick of you complaining about the man. 

Your best friend sort of got it. You snuck a picture of Tre one day and showed her. She nearly fell off of your couch when she saw him.

“This? This is your boss?” 

Yes, he is seriously your boss. And he was a fucking asshole. Who else would feel absolutely nothing about firing people a few days before Christmas? Christmas! It was your favorite holiday and just thinking about all the tiny traditions made you so giddy, your heart flipped.

Person after person, box after box, floated by your desk looking absolutely miserable. You watched their tortured faces and your heart hurt thinking that all their years of service fit into one tiny box. The tinsel and ornaments decorating the office seemed like cruel mocking reminders that there would be no Christmas cheer for them. 

“Get in here, now!” You jerked out of your seat. Fuck, fuck, fuck. The intercom flashed red and then turned off. You hated that damn box. Whatever happened to sending a chat? Way less intrusive and easier on your nerves.

You stood up with your heart racing. The pulse in your neck thumped so painfully, you placed your hand there to try and steady it. Realistically, you didn’t have to tell him about the mistake right now. You just needed a chance to find out what you did wrong.

You smoothed your checkered skirt suit, wiping your sweaty palms on the thick material. El Segundo didn’t get that cold, but the mornings were brutal. 

You bit your lip as you approached his office door. You opened it. Tre stood over his desk, one hand on his hip and a paper in his hand. It had to be the report he asked for. You assumed that since it was so late in the evening, that he’d read it first thing in the morning. You had hoped to leave here with a little hope. Not defeated like the past few nights, still not living up to his impossible standards.

All things considered, he was damn delicious. His favorite aesthetic was black. Black shirts, jackets, pants, shoes. The only hint of color on him were his gold chains and glasses. His thick beard complimented his facial structure beautifully. It was an odd mix being both attracted to and afraid of your boss. 

“Close the door,” he said. 

You followed his command. Shit. You were really in it. Was it your report he was reading? Or did he magically glean that you royally fucked up a fifteen million dollar contract? 

Your stomach roiled. You were going to be fucking sick. 

You approached the front of his desk like a deer in headlights. There was no room for you to maneuver. It was you, the headlights, and inevitable death. Shit, would you go to jail over something like this? 

You twisted your fingers as you stood there and waited for him to acknowledge you. He gave a long sigh and then put the paper down. 

“Come here,” he said. His tone was so disrespectful and biting. It was insulting coming from such a pretty man with a soft, ungodly voice. 

You rounded his giant desk and stood beside him. He was so huge. Thick muscles bunching the confines of his black suit jacket. You gulped and glanced down. He was looking at your report.

“What does this say?” He asked and pointed to a sentence.

“Due to the natre, er, nature, of the findngs.” Shit. This thing had so many damn typos in it. You typed the damn thing up, distracted, watching all of the people you never got to know walk out of here. Their faces haunted you day in and day out. You shouldn’t care, but well, here you were. 

If he had done this at any other time, maybe it wouldn’t have affected you so much. If he fired people around, say…St. Patrick’s Day, then at least people would have an excuse to hide their inevitable drinking. 

You looked into Tre’s eyes, an apology ready on your lips, but he was fuming. He was usually so calm and collected, firing people with an ice cold exterior. To see so much passion in him now…you were in deep shit. Without a paddle.

He reached across his desk and plucked out a red pen. “I want you to sit here and highlight all of the mistakes you made. And you better find them all,” he said. 

Your shaking hand reached out for the pen. He held it away. “All of them.”

He held out the pen once more and you took it. Tre sat down in his chair and motioned for you to proceed. You spied the chair on the other side of the desk, but you didn’t get the sense that you were allowed to get comfortable while you did this.

You licked your dry lips and leaned over slightly. Page by page, you hunted your mistakes with the red pen. You circled all of the typos you made. Good god, there were so many of them.

Tre sat like a silent specter. His disapproving eyes burned your back as you searched the document. At the end, you were appalled that you let so many slip through. The fuck was wrong with you? 

“Count them,” he said. 

Shit, shit. You couldn’t handle this fucking stress. “I am so sorry–”

“Count. Them.” You glanced at him. Besides the fire in his eyes, he seemed calm and a little disinterested. Like he was already bored of this shit and wanted you to hurry up.

You took a deep breath. He was only a man. You needed this stupid fucking job, but you will not be treated like this for much longer. Fuck his praise. And fuck him. No man, no job was worth this bullshit. You were going to find a nice quiet job somewhere. 

You counted the circles. Like bubbles of misery. “Twenty-four,” you said. At least your voice was strong, giving no hint to your frazzled nerves. Though, the more you thought about it, the less nervous you felt. You were so going to type up your two weeks notice tonight. Fuck this cheerless company. 

“Do you have any clue what it’s like trying to do my job but all I can focus on is your shitty ass mistakes? A toddler can type better than you,” he said. 

You gasped. Such a fucking asshole. “Everyone makes mistakes,” you pointed out. For fuck’s sake, you weren’t decoding international secrets. The occasional, okay this instance many, typos should not warrant a trip to the principal’s office. 

“I spend more time correcting your mistakes than trying to turn this company around. The least you can do is be a competent assistant. Your job is to assist,” he said. 

“All you can see is my mistakes instead of all the other shit that I do!” You fired back. Shit. His eyes narrowed and you swallowed, but you weren’t going to hold back. Whether you quit or got fired, you were saying goodbye to him so what the hell did anything matter? 

“I bend over backwards to do everything for you! Do you know how many times I’ve had to fix my nails as I run around here doing everything that pops into that meaty ass head of yours? Fix your computer, get you coffee, charge your fucking phone. I was hired to do assistant work, not become your personal maid. The least you can do is treat me with some fucking respect!” 

A weight lifted from your chest. You took deep, heaving breaths and felt lighter than you ever had. Even before taking this soul sucking job. 

“Bend over,” he said quietly.

“What?” You asked.

Tre stood to his full height. Not quite reaching six feet, but close enough. He unbuttoned his suit jacket and then slipped it off, revealing a black, long sleeved shirt. He rolled up the cuffs.

“I’m spank that tight ass you keep taunting me with for every mistake you have on that report,” he said.

Whoa, what? “Did you not hear what I said?” You asked. You watched as inches of his forearm were revealed. Shit, this shouldn’t be so hot. But it was. Your mouth ran dry for entirely different reasons.

“Every word. Bend. Over. It’s a simple instruction to follow,” he said. The sleeves were at his elbow now. 

You barely thought about it. You bent over the desk, breasts pressing into the coolness of his desk. You felt him slide behind you. His thick hands rubbed over the fabric of your dress. He squeezed the fleshiness of your ass and you softly huffed. 

“Count out every mistake,” he said.

Smack! Red hot fire bloomed on your right ass cheek. “What the fuck,” you gasped.

“Count it, or we start over,” he said.

“One,” you immediately said. Was this really happening? 

Smack! Shit, it really was. “Two,” you gasped again, trying to fight off a moan. Your pussy ached with each subsequent hit. And he was not going easy on you. Each smack was severe, making you reach up on tiptoes to escape it. 

He wouldn’t let you. His hand found your ass in any way you had it displayed for him. No two smacks were similar. Some were harder than others. He never hit the same spot twice. Your ass was a mosaic of pain. Heat bloomed in tiny flickers. There was no way you were going to sit down after this.

“Fifteen,” you ground out. Your ass sought his hands, relished each smack he delivered. Your mind turned blissfully fuzzy. Nerves melting away until it was a tiny puddle at your feet. Fuck. You were so turned on and your panties were ruined. Soaked. 

Your clit throbbed in time with the flickering heat on your ass. And he continued to smack it. Your ass jiggled after each one. Your feet scrambled for purchase. 

“Twenty-two,” you cried out. Tears gathered in  your eyes. 

The final two smacks to your ass were the worst ones. He had been hiding that strength this entire time. He smacked you like he was truly punishing you for all of the mistakes on the report. You shuddered to think what he would do when he found out about the contract. 

He had maintained a professional demeanor throughout it all. He hadn’t spoken, except with soft grunts as the force of his smacks met your ass. He rubbed your booty and you moaned from the white hot pain. How the hell were you going to get home after this? 

Tre lowered the zipper on the back of your dress and you whimpered. What more could he fucking do right now?

The answer to that was swift as he pushed the edge of your skirt up and over your wide hips. He groaned with a soft, “fuck”, as he revealed your racy black panties. The lace was sheer with tiny flower designs woven into it. 

“I knew hiring you was a fucking mistake. Can’t even focus on shit around here,” he said. Though it seemed like he was talking to himself. 

“I thought you hated me,” you whispered. You wiped the wayward tears from your face. 

“You and these fucking outfits,” he answered back. He rolled your panties off of your damp pussy. He bent with it, so his breath trailed the back of your thighs and legs. He kissed his way back up. Plump lips placed soft kisses to your thighs and ass. Pain bloomed from his recent spanking and you moaned and moved away. He straightened and pulled your hips back. 

He smacked your bare ass this time. The wet sound was loud and lewd. You prayed that everyone was gone for the day. There was no way that these flimsy ass walls had good sound proofing. 

“Fuuuuuck,” you moaned out.

“That’s for being such a fuckin’ tease,” he said. His hands left you, going to his own fly as you heard the zipper and the frantic huffs as he hurried to free himself. 

“I wasn’t–”

“You know you were. Bending over every chance you got. Smiling every time I fuckin’ saw you. Wearing these outfits you know are not professional,” he said. 

He settled back behind you, groaning as you assumed he pumped himself. Fuck, you wanted to see. You looked back at him. Oh, that was a mistake. His head was thrown back, his arms moving jerkily as he pumped his thick length with his hand. 

Your pussy clenched as you watched him. You bit your lip at the sheer ecstasy on his face. You didn’t want to speak and interrupt him. While it was true that you dressed up a little more than your coworkers, these outfits were appropriate. You didn’t show unnecessary cleavage and your skirts were decent lengths.

Okay, maybe they went a little too high. But you spent most of your time behind a desk, who was really going to notice? It was better than the bland ass, off the rack looks these other girls wore. It was like they all shopped at the same, ugly ass store. Why should you be bland like them?

You were fucking gorgeous. And wearing pretty outfits made you feel beautiful and comfortable. You loved your heels. Why should you keep all that shit in the closet to make basic bitches feel nice? Fuck ‘em.

Tre rubbed the tip of his dick through your wet folds. You nearly buckled. Your knees collapsed and Tre roughly grabbed your hip to make you stand upright. 

You rested your cheek against the cold desk. The coolness helped cool off some of the heat burning through you. You moaned as his tip brushed against your clit. “Please,” you whispered.

“Please what?” He asked.

“Please, fuck me. I need it,” you moaned. God, it had been too fucking long since you got fucked. Not had sex. Got fucked. You had decent situationships in the past. Sure, you had fun. But to get fucked, you needed a certain type of man. 

He grunted as he shoved inside, stretching you completely. You cried out as he pulled back and shoved back in, getting his dick wetter from your juices alone. “Sweet fuck,” he moaned. 

“So fuckin’ wet for me.” He worked himself inside you, pushing into the warm, wet core of you. You were a vice grip on his dick. Welcoming him deeper and more easily with every glide. His fingers dug into your hips. 

“From now on, I’m checking over all of your work. If I catch more typos, that’s your ass,” he said.

How the hell could he expect you to listen when he was buried so deep inside of you, you were pretty sure with one more shove that he would hit your G-spot? You pathetically whimpered as his movements grew slippier. He slid in and out with more ease than before. 

His thrusts turned sharper. Each one shoved you against the desk. The hard plane of the desk shoved into your stomach. The pain was barely a thought. 

“Oh yes, yes,” you moaned.

“Takin’ this dick well,” he moaned. His thrusts increased. Barely giving you time to breathe in between each one. They were powerful and unrelenting. The desk rattled. His thighs pushed into yours, trapping you against the desk as he pounded into you. His hands around your hips were bruising. He had you slightly lifted, so your feet slightly dangled off of the ground. He supported you easily. 

The minimal praise from him made your heart soar and your pussy flutter. “Oh, you like that shit, don’t you?” 

“Uh-huh,” you moaned.

“Tell me you like it then,” he said.

“I like it,” you said.

“Like you mean it,” he said and gave another savage thrust that made you see stars. 

The desk made an intrusive knocking sound in time with his thrusting. That’s how hard he was fucking you. 

“Oh shit, I’m cumming,” you moaned. Your belly flipped as your orgasm built and built.

“Let it go, then,” he said.

You cried and whimpered as you came. 

“Mhm, let it go. Let it go. Mhm, feeling all of that,” he cooed while you came, stars going off like bombs in your weak vision. Your head swam. Your vision winked in and out. You were bliss personified, cumming with a type of euphoria you didn’t know existed.

You squeezed his dick as you came. “Get that shit nice and creamy,” he said. 

He continued to pound into you, fucking any last remnants of your orgasm out of you. He was so hard and thick, sliding in and out and wrenching every little sound he could out of you. 

Wet smacking and the rattle of his thrusts filled the room with a harmony you wanted on repeat forever. You were creamy for him. Needy for him. Needy for the way that he could fuck you stupid and you thanked him for it.

You managed to look back at him. Again, his head was thrown back. The wide expanse of his neck pulsed with a thick vein you wanted to lick. Sweat dripped down into his shirt. His sleeves were still rolled up. He was power and strength. Thick in every sense of the word.

Broad shoulders, soft beard, and those glasses. Good god, you loved those glasses on him. That wide smile of his. His rich, midnight skin. You could spend hours licking every inch of him and it wouldn’t nearly be enough. 

He was lost in you, lost with his dick pumping into you. Watching how you were making him feel, another orgasm built. It climbed its way to the surface, whisking you away to the stars again. Shooting through the universe with nothing to hold you down. Nothing to keep you anchored. You just floated like stardust around the cosmos. 

“Oh fuck, please,” you moaned. You didn’t know what the fuck you were saying. You were mumbling and moaning, unaware of anything but his hands on your hips. His dick inside you. His balls slapping your clit. Your hand moved behind you seeking his body. His thrusts were too much.

You pushed against him. You didn’t want him to stop. Just for him to ease a bit. Your swollen clit was sensitive as hell. You weren’t sure if you had another orgasm in you. It was too soon and his punishing pace was going to literally fuck you stupid in a minute.

“Move that fuckin’ hand before I do,” he spat. 

“But…Sir…” He was fucking the air out of you. You couldn’t breathe. “Fuck, please.” 

True to his word, he grabbed the hand that you were trying to push him away with. Your left hand was twisted behind your back as he leaned forward, deepening his strokes.

It turned harsher, fucking you into the desk. He’d fuck you through it if he could. His moans turned desperate.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” he moaned. “Take this nut.”

He groaned as he unleashed his climax inside of you. He filled you with his cum. His dick twitched and pulsed against your spongy walls as his cum was fucked into you. Still he moved, still he pounded into you like he was trying to prove something. 

His hips faltered as he sputtered the last of his cum. He buried himself to the hilt and a shiver ran through him. Your frantic breathing matched his as he slowly pulled out of you.

Fuck! You were fucking sore! A hundred baths wouldn’t soothe this shit. A moment later, his cum slipped out of you and you moaned. Well shit. No condom. Luckily, you were on the pill but still. You shouldn’t be so fucking horny that you didn’t talk about these things.

However, after getting fucked the way you just did, you’d happily accept his cum. Many times over. 

His cum leaked out of you, sliding down your pussy and legs. He groaned, leaned down, and spread your ass cheeks just to watch.

“Such a pretty fuckin’ pussy,” he said. He pushed two fingers inside and you whimpered. He grunted one last time and removed his fingers. 

He grabbed a few tissues off of his desk and started to clean you up. You hissed when he hit a sensitive spot. He kissed your ass and legs as he cleaned up. “So fuckin’ pretty. So fuckin’ beautiful,” he soothed as he cleaned.

You were a shaking mess. Your legs could not support you. He chuckled as he finished. He pulled his pants up first. You heard the slide of his belt buckle. Then, he pulled your panties up to cover your ass. Next, he lowered your skirt and fixed the zipper.

You were too weak to move from your spot. Too weak to stand up and say or do anything. You laid there in amazement. He helped you up and then steadied you while he lowered you into his chair. His chair.

He got to work, righting various knick knacks on his desk. He moved a tiny Christmas snow globe on his desk that you had brought him on the first day. He had raised his eyebrow at you, told you that you couldn’t bribe your way to a good start, and disappeared into his office. You thought he had thrown it away. You were too nervous to notice anything when you came into his office. Just his disapproving eyes and smug smirk. 

He moved the report back into the yellow envelope and closed it. He turned around and rested his ass against the desk. He tapped the file with his long fingers. “Be sure to correct this. We’ll go over it first thing in the morning.”

You glanced at him. “Yes, Sir,” you said with a hoarse voice. Fuck, your throat hurt. Everything hurt. He smirked as if he were reading your thoughts.

Yeah, a merry Christmas to you too, mu’fucker.

Masterlist | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 - Completed

[miyuhpapayuh]

The faces of Mocha.

[thecapodomme]

The Muse Part I

The Muse Part II (Coming Soon)

Need You (Coming Soon)

[chillingcinemachronicles]

the Best Sci-Fi Movies on Netflix Right Now

Embark on an interstellar journey where the boundaries of reality dissolve, and imagination takes flight. Brace yourself for a warp-speed adventure through the cosmos with our curated selection of mind-bending science fiction wonders!

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In the swamplands of Florida there sits a forcefield that formed after a meteor hit the area. Separated from regular life by a kaleidoscopic shell whose circumference continues to expand, The Shimmer, as it’s called, has claimed the lives of every man who has gone inside — except one. Biologist Lena (Natalie Portman) lost her husband Kane (Oscar Isaac) after he was presumably killed during a military operation, but when Kane returns home with his memory gone and his health failing, Lena looks for answers.

She then joins an all-female research team consisting of a physicist, a geologist, a paramedic, and a psychologist, all of whom volunteer to enter The Shimmer in what amounts to a suicide mission. While inside, the women find a gorgeous world that defies nature — but the mutations taking place within threaten to destroy the women, their team, and eventually, the world.

4. Anon (2018)

EW grade: (read the review)

Director: Andrew Niccol

Cast: Clive Owen, Amanda Seyfried, Colm Feore, Mark O’Brien,

Privacy and anonymity are luxuries afforded to no one in the 2018 British-American sci-fi thriller Anon. Clive Owen stars as Detective Sal Frieland, a troubled cop operating in a dystopia where the entire populace is implanted with an ocular device intended to record and track the movements of the people around them. The government’s transparency methods ensure that all criminal activity is caught on tape — but when a mysterious woman with no digital footprint (Amanda Seyfried) crosses paths with Sal, he realizes she might have a connection with a series of unsolved murders he’s investigating. Director Andrew Niccol tells EW “I always wanted to do a movie about privacy and the fact that there was never a war for privacy, because we already lost — we gave away our privacy without a fight, all for convenience.

3. Bird Box (2018)

EW grade: B (read the review)

Director: Susanne Bier

Cast: Sandra Bullock, Trevante Rhodes, John Malkovich, Danielle Macdonald, Sarah Paulson, Machine Gun Kelly

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Sight becomes a handicap in Bird Box, a post-apocalyptic thriller where the enemy must go unseen, or else. Sandra Bullock stars as Malorie Hayes, a woman responsible for transporting two young children down a river while wearing blindfolds, a strategy intended to help the survivors avoid seeing the entities that attacked Earth five years earlier, and who cause those who look upon them to commit suicide. Jumping between their present journey and the past events that led Malorie and the children to this point, director Susanne Bier leans into the tension of the unknown and relies on her talented but eclectic cast to do the rest. Released the same year as A Quiet Place, and possessing a somewhat similar premise, Bird Box received less attention when it first premiered, but this sci-fi horror film is a great option for fans of both genres.

2. Black Mirror: Bandersnatch (2018)

Director: David Slade

Cast: Fionn Whitehead, Will Poulter, Craig Parkinson, Tallulah Rose Haddon, Catriona Knox

As it turns out, the only thing missing from the British anthology series, Black Mirror, was options. In Black Mirror: Bandersnatch, the TV show gets a movie makeover, but with a twist: The film was shot in the style of a “choose your own adventure” novel, and viewers are able to customize their viewing experience through their scene selections. Centered around a young programmer named Stefan (Fionn Whitehead), Bandersnatch follows Stefan’s journey in developing a video game for a famous gaming company, a journey that puts Stefan under a great deal of mental and emotional stress, and results in one of ten main endings. Black Mirror is beloved for its eldritch and tech-focused content, and Bandersnatch keeps that tone alive, using the main storyline to explore themes like free will and mind control, even as the viewers’ choices drive the story forward.

Don’t Look Up (2021)

EW grade: B (read the review)

Director: Adam McKay

Cast: Leonardo DiCaprio, Jennifer Lawrence, Jonah Hill, Meryl Streep, Timothee Chalamet, Ariana Grande, Cate Blanchett, Mark Rylance, Melanie Lynskey, Chris Evans

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As a comet sets its sights on Earth and prepares to wipe out human civilization, two astronomers (Leonardo DiCaprio and Jennifer Lawrence) rush to warn the world of the impending collision — only to discover the world doesn’t really care. “Based on events that haven’t happened yet,” as the film’s trailer states, Don’t Look Up is a sci-fi satire that skewers climate deniers and government inaction in the face of scientific evidence pointing to looming catastrophe. Directed by Adam McKay (Vice, The Big Short), and featuring everyone in Hollywood from Jonah Hill and Meryl Streep to Timothee Chalamet and Ariana Grande, Don’t Look Up offers great jokes and fun cameos, but be warned: it’s not exactly light fare. Still, as far as sci-fi comedies go, this one is worth a watch — just don’t think too deeply about the implications of the film’s ending.

[twistedcharismaaa]

The Boring are the Most Interesting Pt. 2

Summary: You have been dealt an unfavorable hand and you’re trying to make the best of it. Maybe your new roommate Trevante can help you with that?

Author’s Note: Hi guys! I hope you guys had a great week! I just want to say thank you to all of you that liked, commented, and reblogged. I have officially decided to make this into a series. Most importantly, I would like to say thank you to all of you who personally reached out to me and shared your stories. I appreciate all of you and I love all of you dearly. I do have more information about Lupus on my page if you guys are interested. It is tagged under #Lupus #LupusWarrior and etc. I hope you guys enjoy! If you like sappy and romantic stories this one is for you! 

 Rico knocked on Tia’s apartment door and waited impatiently. He was agitated at the fact one of his fellow teammates requested a tour of Charisma’s apartment. It was an understatement to say that the school’s football team was wild and rowdy. So it was completely bizarre for him to be interested in living with a girl who was reserved and ill. He already informed Tia that Charisma wasn’t going to be with him to drop off the boxes. He decided to hold off on sharing the Trevante news for now until he was able to speak with her in person. 

What seemed like an eternity to Rico, Tia finally opened the door. Rico was greeted with a half-smile that didn’t linger for very long. Rico noticed that her eyes were puffy and red. Rico entered her bare, messy, and unorganized apartment. He quickly placed Tia’s boxes on the ground and sat beside her on the pallet on the floor.

“Hey ex-lover,” he said while playfully nudging into her.

“Hey. Thank you for bringing the boxes,” she replied while starting to open them.

Rico gently grabbed her hands and kissed them.

“Wassup with you? You know you can still talk to me. I’m still mad as fuck. But you’re still my baby even when you don’t want to be.” he said sweetly.

“I-I received another rejection letter through my email. Rico, I’m working two bullshit retail jobs and it’s not doing shit for me. I have my degree and my certifications but that’s not enough. They want me to at least have two years of experience. Two years of experience is literally the only thing that’s holding me back …. me and Charisma back matter of fact. You know the insurance company called? If I don’t come up with this money within the next week they’re going to cut her off. Her lungs can’t take another hit. Rico, I can’t take another hit.” she responded. 

Tia began sobbing uncontrollably into Rico’s arms. Rico pulled her in closely and held her securely. 

“We gonna hold it down. Don’t worry about shit baby. Just let me handle it?” Rico replied.

Tia began to quiet herself. She looked up at Rico and smiled. The smile that crept across her face this time was genuine and loving.

“We can’t tell her ok?” Tia said softly.

Rico hesitantly nodded and kissed her deeply.

—–

It has been about two weeks since you and Tia have had an actual conversation. There was a lot of miscommunication happening between the both of you. You told her that you did luckily find a new roommate but you neglected to tell her the details on who it was. And Tia failed equally to tell you what was going on in her life. You were just left with your imaginations and your assumptions. You told yourself to be understanding and accommodating to her needs but her being insanely busy and short with you was growing old. You tried to look at all of the factors in the equation to help to keep your emotions at bay. Tia was in the process of moving into her new apartment, she was working, and she was taking care of you. You knew your sister was doing what she had to do but what you truly needed was her. A stranger was moving in with you and a fine stranger at that. You kindly asked Rico to let you be the one to give all the details later. After countless days of bickering with him last week you finally came to an agreement. The deal was that Rico could make “wellness” checks whenever he wanted. You knew for a fact that today would be his first one.

Today is the day that Trevante officially moves in. He had been gradually moving his things into his bedroom. You were proud of yourself for not snooping through his things while he was away. You knew you were infamously unlucky so being nosy would not work in your favor. You cleaned your apartment and lit a candle or two to keep the air smelling sweet. You put extra effort into your appearance since you weren’t feeling the best. Your left knee was achy and slightly swollen. It took you no time to develop a subtle limp. You couldn’t deny there was a part of you that thought all of this effort would end up in vain. He probably wouldn’t be around much to even notice you or your endeavors. You were looking for a friend and you would most likely end up with a roommate. 

You heard a knock at the door and began approaching it. You opened the door casually.

“Aye, wassup baby girl? I couldn’t use my key cause I got all this shit in my hands. I wasn’t trying to make two trips.” Trevante said.

You found yourself lost in his smile and his presence alone. His muscles flexed boldly as he carried his belongings to his bedroom. His fragrance was intoxicating. 

“No, you’re fine. I wouldn’t want to make two trips either,” you answered. 

Out of your nervousness, you began walking towards your bedroom.

“Alright, I’ll leave you to it then.” you continued.

“Aye, where you going so fast?” he asked. 

Trevante loved your body in the long yellow maxi dress that you were wearing. He loved how it complimented your voluptuous shape. He loved the fact that you weren’t ashamed to show your little tummy. He licked his lips and watched you intently. He also noticed that you were trying to hide the fact you were limping. He wanted you to know that you didn’t have to hide from him. All he wanted to do was make you comfortable around him and he intended to do just that.

“I didn’t want to be in the way of you settling in,” you responded.

“Nah, you never in my way. I got something for you tho. Sit down. I’m going to get it.” he said eagerly. 

“Something for me?” you quizzed.

“Mhm. You, you heard right ma,” he said while laughing.

You waited anxiously. Trevante came back within minutes and sat down beside you.

“I noticed your bedroom was kinda bare when you gave me the tour. Like you didn’t have paintings, portraits, pictures or nothing. I wanna add some color in your life if you don’t mind.” he said.

“I’m open to that.” you smiled.

“Aight, so how do you like this?” he asked while presenting you with a painting. 

You studied the painting and admired all of its beauty. You felt as if you saw yourself reflected in the painting. It was almost as if it spoke to you. In the painting, there was a black woman surrounded by love, life, passion, and joy. It was as if the world was waiting for her to join into the festivities but she was trapped in her own mind. 

“You painted this for me?” you asked softly while still admiring the painting.

Trevante watched your face soften while tears welled up in your eyes. He could feel the shift in your posture. The vibe in the room suddenly became deeper .. more intimate. All he wanted to do was make you more comfortable. 

“I did baby girl. Tell me how you feel about it.” he requested.

“It feels like you see me. Maybe I’m tripping-”

Trevante quickly interjected.

“Nah, you had it right the first time. I see you and I want you to see yourself too. Charisma you are fucking beautiful and I mean that shit. I’m going to finish unpacking and stay off that leg too aight?” he ordered.

“It feels good to be seen,” you whispered to yourself.

——–

Part 1 Part 3

@ghostfacekill-monger @soulfood-fics @l-auteuse @lostennyc @keiva1000 @thickemadame @liyahshaeking @quietstorm-73 @rolemodelshit @tyees @raysunshine78 @tip222u @xo-goldengirl @blackmissfrizzle @raysunshine78 @artsninspo @bugngiz

[shaekingshitup]

If I'm reading a fic with blurred consent lines I have to stop.

Just because a character has a knowledge of their sex appeal or is considered attractive by everyone in the story/the protagonist themselves, that doesn't mean that they should just force themselves on the protagonist/reader. I see this often excused under the guise of "well, this is a very dominant character" or "this is daddy! (insert character)" and that's not okay. That's not a justification.

Fix it.

[henneseyhoe]

NSFW ALPHABET✮ Trevante Rhodes.

✮✮✮✮

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

One thing about him is he gonna check on his baby 😭 He knows he can get rough at times when he has more stress pent up and most of the time you welcomed it, but he would hate if he hurt you after the fact.

“It wasn’t too much, right?” He would ask after wiping you down and laying next to you, pulling your body close to his. You simply nod, unable to say a word as you slowly drifted off to a peaceful slumber, ignoring the thumping between your legs.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He LOVES your thighs. There wasn’t a moment his hands weren’t on them when you’re close to him. He’d grip them, squeeze the thickness of them before trailing his hands up to your hip dips and over to your ass, giving it a smack that had you yelping and softly pushing at him as a warning. He smirks with no intimidation put into him, leaning down and kissing your lips.

When it came to him, his favorite body part had to be his hands. You loved them, therefore he did too. They were big, big enough to cover the whole front of your throat when fucking you into your mattress, veins protruding from his soft skin as he softly squeezes the sides of your neck. Your own hands came up to lay on top of his, softly caressing as you came.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Inside. Point blank period. If it wasn’t for your birth control, you’d be six children and one on the way locked in with the man, and he’d be proud of it. If you were sucking him off, he’d ask you to stand and bend over quickly just before he cums, shoving himself deep inside your wet warmth and filling you up to the brim with his seed, leaving you leaking with nut that didn’t make it inside you dripping down your thigh. He’d take his finger and wipe it up after he pulls out, sliding two digits into you after to make sure you were good and stuffed.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He wants you to sit on his face so, so, so BAD. You were a thicker girl so you were scared to, always shoving him away and laughing his dirty jokes off when he was dead serious about you riding his tongue. Secretly, that was the main things he thought about when he jerks off. He thinks about you fucking his mouth till you physically couldn’t cum anymore, thighs shaking on either side of his head with your pussy on full display for him to indulge in again, even long after you say you couldn’t go any longer.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Let’s be real, Trevante has been around the block. A few times actually! He wasn’t a whore per se, but he liked sex like any other adult human being. He knew his way around some pussy, especially yours. He knew that kisses on your neck is what really turned you on, he knew the way your clit jumps every time he says your name in a rough tone, he knows how much you cream in reverse cowgirl, and he knew the only way to make you squirt was to press down on your stomach and rub your clit while fucking you at the same time.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Reverse cowgirl, you bent alll the way over so he could see how well you wrap around his dick. Who dont wanna see a fat ass jiggle in their face? He definitely does. Trevante loved your thighs, but he was also a proud ass man.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Serious, but he does not hesitate to crack an evil pearly white smile when you start tapping out wether that would be while he fingers you, eats you out, fucks you, or shoves his dick down your throat. He found pride in being able to push you to a limit because he knew no other was even close to doing it, and if they were, he’d beat that record with ease.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He likes his trimmed. The only time he has went bare was when he was younger, back then he liked a completely clean shave, even when it came to his women, but these days he just trims and goes on about his day and now it didn’t matter for his women. He was gonna feast regardless.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He isn’t romeo, but he knows what makes you swoon. He’s never one to forget a special occasion, and if he feeling spiffy then he’s gonna make some shit up just to love you up a little more than what he does on a regular basis.

J = Jack off (masturbation)

You travel for work, so often times he’s alone for an extended amount of time. Some might think he just be stroking it back to back, but he actually likes to save it all for you. If he does touch himself, he’s definitely not cumming. He’d edge himself for hours just to get the sense of cumming and that alone would hold him off just until you got home. That’s when he’d go absolutely feral for you.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Long before you two made it official you could see he had a thing for degrading. In college you two would hang out, you’d help him study and keep his grades up so he could stay on the track team and he’d…well nothing, there was no exchange for you other than having someone to laugh at. It wasn’t until he kept calling you stupid one study session where all horny hell broke loose. Yall fucked like rabbits any and everywhere on that campus. You had officially been his nasty bitch.

Oh and like i said before, thighs. Sometimes he didn’t even need the pussy. All he did was beg you to pull your pants off so he could fuck your thighs, and you’d happily oblige. he slid his thick dick between your legs, you allowing the fat on your thighs and the softness of your cotton panties mold around his dick as he thrusts, only getting faster when he feels himself slipping into sweet euphoria.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

His apartment had floor to ceiling windows so you already know you were getting fucked above hundreds of passing cars. He didnt care and the reflection of you two only added to the satisfaction of the thought that someone could be watching him claim your body. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t cum thinking about that too.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Watching you walk around the house with them tight ass shorts you like to wear or (un)surprisingly enough, that moomoo you wear after braiding your hair back and putting it in a bonnet to protect it for your hair appointment the next day. You couldn’t count how many times he has shoved that gown up your waist, snatched that bonnet off or pushed the crotch of your shorts to the side. Honestly, anything showing you in a natural state wether it’d be you in a moomoo or you comfortable with being half naked, it was an instant boner alert.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He’d try anything once for you, but pegging is an instant no-no. Not that he has some type of weird thought behind it, he just wouldn’t think he’d rock with it like other niggas. Plus, he wasn’t that type of submissive, if he was gonna put you in a dominant position, it’d involve him with still some kind of control(until you take that too of course).

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He does it all baby. He knows you like to watch him eat your pussy with his grillz in, and he loves the way you take dick down your throat with ease. When I said he knew his way around some pussy, I wasn’t kidding. He utilized that long tongue and used eating pussy as a jaw work out that he thoroughly enjoyed. In all reality, he didn’t care if he was on the receiving end or not, he was having his fun anyway.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Again, he does it all baby. Say you want it slow and he’s making love to you, swirling his hips in ways that had his length reaching places that you had no idea were there. Tell him you wanna be fucked like a slut and he’s knocking the mario coins out that ass. Sometimes all it took was a simple look for him to understand exactly how you wanted it and you loved that about him.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He’d rather have time with you to really enjoy the sex but he’s definitely not turning down no quickie regardless. His boo want some dick real quick? He’s there, in there like swimwear.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Like I said, He’d try anything at least once. The day you two tried bondage was probably the nastiest he’s ever been and the time you used a vibrator to tease him? He had never came so much.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Two rounds consecutively, give him a water break and he’s back in it like he never left. Sometimes he didn’t even need water and just wanted to get you ready for the next round. Usually in total he likes three rounds, but he will go further if you can take it.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He doesn’t have any of his own. Not that he was against it, he just didn’t need any to get off, and if he were to use one it was most likely on you until you initiated something else.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Sex didn’t come without teasing with him. He did it well before he was even doing anything sexual, sometimes on accident. Like when he’d grip your thigh but accidentally go way too far up, his hand grazing your clothed warmth with every tight squeeze of his fingers.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He’s a grunter. A sigher. Sometimes even a whimperer when it’s been some time since he’s been with you. He makes sure you can hear how you make him feel and he makes sure you make enough noise to tell him he’s doing well too.

W = Wild card

Idk what to put here chile. We have established that nigga is a supaaa freak.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Lord have mercy. It was no secret that he was an adonis of a man. He takes care of his entire body and believes it is a temple. So if he’s clean on the outside, then he will be clean on the inside too. When it comes to the size of that hammer? You thought he was gonna rip you apart the first time you two had sex. He was slightly above average but his thickness was what really did it for you. Every time you two have sex, you can’t believe all of it actually fits inside.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Oh he’s a true yearner, but he keeps it under wraps. Not saying he’s nonchalant cause that’s definitely not the case, maybe back then, but definitely not now. He gonna let his baby know he misses her, but he ain’t gonna let her know how he’s fucking his hand thinking about her while she’s gone, or how he sleeps with her pillow cause it still smells like her hair oil, or how he has a specific mode on his phone that changes his background to his favorite picture of you two. Yeah, that man be down bad for his boo.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He likes to talk to his girl first, asking her what she liked about what he did to her, what he should do next time, etc. Then he’ll pull you close after all your rambling and fall asleep with you.

✮✮✮✮

ps. who should i do next??

[megamindsecretlair]

Hey fren! ✌🏾

Whenever you got the time, can we get a nice little piece with Kofi, Tyrone, or Trevante (your pick lol) where him and his girl get into bad. It leads them to be mad as hell at each other to where they aren't speaking for like a day or two.

And our man finally gets tired of the tension and decides to make things up, but our girl is damn sure good at holding grudges so it takes him a leeettle bit more convincing to get her out of her feelings.

Also, no rush if you do decide to do this one! Love you babes 😘💜

A/N: I hope this hits. What can I say, the anon inspired me. Please note that this is not Mr. Black.

Don't Forget About Us

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

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. Established relationship. Smut, FLUFF, PIV, oral (fem and male receiving), anal play, dirty talk, cursing, all consensual.

Summary: See ask. You reached a breaking point with your boyfriend. He was constantly gone, nose buried in work making you go to bed alone and tired and lonely. After a screaming match, you both need time to cool your heels. But not for too long.

Word Count: 6,841k

AO3 Link

A/N: It's not that I lied, it's just that I failed lmfao. I hadn't had plans to release this but well, I miss himmmm. Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment, reblog, or unhinged ask.

Taglist: @planetblaque @browngirldominion @notapradagurl7 @blackerthings @logansblackgf @henneseyhoe @my1onlysenpai @darqchilddaydreamz @badassdoll @playgurlxoxo @eggnox @abeautifulmindexposed @theyscreamsannii @melaninpov @mcdesij @kholdkill @blowmymbackout @theunsweetenedtruth @monaeesstuff @cocoeffects @soft-persephone @duckiesfairy @slippinninque @westside-rot @prettypink-princesss @thadelightfulone @the-crystal-one @miyuhpapayuh @thecookiebratz @twocentuar @esachicaa @enchantedillumination @xo-goldengirl @tranquilfandomer @we-outsiiiide @hihellogoodbyebruh @babybratzmaraj @yourofficialgal @liyaah02 @mochaaahooligan @ashleykeri @harmshake @amethyst09 @ciaqui @iv0rysoap @00aijia00 @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @luckygirlszn @thecapodomme @chaos-4baby @multiversefanfics @tvchi @kittyken006 @avoidthings @makayla171

For the first time, in a really long time, you did not want to get out of your car and walk through the front door. You didn’t want to spend another restless night worrying over your boyfriend. He was such a work-a-holic and you were tired of the arguments. 

The same old record scratch repeating over and over. You missed him like crazy. You wanted him warm and safe in your bed every night and you were sick of feeling guilty for wanting that. He would kiss you and make promises, but slowly, his word was losing its meaning. 

You groaned and dropped your head to the steering wheel. You could not stay out here for much longer. You knew that and yet your legs felt like lead weights. You couldn’t make your body move even though your mind screamed at you to move. You honestly didn’t know how much longer you could continue doing this.

You heaved another groan and finally got out of the car, the quick beep letting you know that your car was locked and armed. You walked up to the townhouse you two shared, entering through the front door. You walked inside to the lights on and music playing somewhere in the background.

You closed and locked the door, removing your jacket and hanging it on the hook by the door. You slipped out of your heels, sighing as that particular burden was removed. You followed the sound of the music to the dining room.

Your boyfriend stood there in soft black lounge pants and a black long sleeved tee to match. It molded well to his body, showing off his muscles. He smiled, instantly lighting up the entire room with that mega-watt smile of his. 

A gold chain rested against his chest and golden studs glinted in the dim lighting. He held out a glass of wine, cocking his head. “Hey baby,” he said.

You sighed, wanting to melt into his arms. Wanting to hug him and turn your brain off for the rest of the night. A surge of bitterness shot through you, coating your tongue in acid. But you swallowed it down. You didn’t want to pick a fight. Didn’t want to be that type of girlfriend. 

You smiled and grabbed the glass of wine from him and took a small sip. You felt awkward standing next to the man of your dreams and not knowing what to do. Whether or not it was okay to reach across that gap and touch him. 

You scooted past and looked at the dinner on the table. Steaming short ribs were covered in gravy, sitting next to a vegetable medley and seasoned mashed potatoes. It looked amazing and your mouth watered, momentarily forgetting that you were mad at him. 

Tre moved around you and slid your chair out. You thanked him and moved in front of it. He pushed the chair in as you sat down and then took his seat at the side of the table. He uncovered a bowl of salad, dishing some for you into the small bowl beside your plate. 

You smiled and began eating, falling into a familiar pattern. You spoke about silly things like your work and his, the crazy people there, or what your friends were currently up to. You spoke about your family and their latest shenanigans and Tre spoke about talking to his grandmother earlier. 

Safe, normal topics that didn’t disrupt the nice meal Tre prepared. You let yourself breathe for a moment, soak up the rare moment that he was home long enough to enjoy this. You laughed with him and you enjoyed seeing the little crinkle in his eyes. That devastating smile. 

You relaxed in the chair, taking a moment to appreciate the comfortable lull in the conversation. You swirled the last bit of wine in your glass on the table, watching the red liquid swirl. 

“You want some more?” Tre asked.

You smiled and shook your head. “I should probably get ready for bed, I got an early meeting,” you said. 

Tre sighed. “I get it,” he said. He looked down at your hand briefly when the shrill tone of his phone rang in the living room. 

You sucked your teeth while he cursed, grabbing his phone and looking at the caller’s name. It’d be so much easier if you thought he was cheating. That you could explain away in your mind. Men were dogs, it was what they did, blah blah blah. You would be hurt, you would get over it and move on with someone who actually loved you.

But no. You had to compete with four walls and a computer screen. You had to compete with spreadsheets and wet signatures and copy paper. How the hell did you beat something like that? Where would you even start? 

“I’m sorry, I thought I put it on silent,” he said.

“It’s fine, take it,” you said. You smiled and stood up, getting ready to clear the table. Tre placed his hand on yours, stilling your movements. You looked at him without looking into his eyes. Your eyes were focused on his lips, on the tight lipped grimace. 

“You don’t have to do that,” he said. 

“You cook, I clean. That was the deal,” you said, intentionally misunderstanding him. You pulled your arm but he didn’t budge. You sighed but refused to meet his gaze. His phone continued ringing and he cursed again, reaching out with his left hand to silence the ringing.

“Pick it up, Tre. Really, it’s fine,” you said. You yanked your arm once more and he let you go, let you bring the dishes to the kitchen. You hated doing dishes. But a deal was a deal. If you cooked, he cleaned. If he cooked, you cleaned. You packed away the remaining food, placing it in the refrigerator. You started filling the sink after plugging it, adding soap so it could bubble up.

Tre’s heavy footsteps entered the kitchen, feet tapping on the smooth tile. His massive frame took up your peripheral vision but you focused on the rising, steaming water. 

“You won’t even look at me anymore,” he said.

You choked on a laugh, not expecting that to shoot out of his mouth. You bit your lip so that you could stop, so that it wouldn’t turn into theatrics and hysterics. You swore you’d never be this type of girl. You swore and you swore. 

“You’re not here long enough for me to look at you,” you said. 

“That’s not fair, damn. I did all of this to spend time with you,” he said. 

You sighed. Feeling the oncoming headache. Was it even worth it? All you did was argue and yell around in circles. The yells like lashes against the wall. It was grating and nerve-wracking and you wanted off the struggle bus. 

But if you didn’t say anything, would anything ever change? Did you want it to? You watched the water foam and bubble up as it rose in the sink. You were leaning on the sink, feet crossed at the ankle. 

“Until the next time you need to go into the office. Or the next time your boss needs you to look at an expense report right this second, at three in the morning. Or you have this meeting or that meeting, your phone is constantly on. You might as well move into your fucking office. You never turn that shit off,” you said. 

You turned off the water, the sharp creak of the handle loud in the silent kitchen. Music still pumped in from the other room, but it was too muted to understand the lyrics. Knowing Tre, it was something sweet and sensual. Finding songs with the perfect mix of longing and need. 

You pulled on kitchen gloves when Tre’s phone rang once more. You smirked with no real humor behind it. “If you really wanted to spend time, you would have turned your phone off.” 

“This is my job, baby. This is what I get paid to do. This is how I afford all of this,” he said.

You rolled your eyes and started scrubbing the plate. You poured your frustration into getting every last stain off of the plate. Every last smear of gravy or mashed potato. “I know that! I’m not saying quit your job, I’m not saying never work. I just want you home at a decent fucking hour,” you said.

You put the clean plate on the other side of the sink so that you could rinse it off later. You started in on another plate. The action would be relaxing if you didn’t have Tre’s fucking phone going off. His boss was worse than a thirsty bitch after your man. You swore, there were some moments where you caught his boss looking at you like you were the devil herself. 

“Sometimes things come up that need my attention,” he said.

“At three in the fucking morning? What email or graph or fucking presentation is so important at three in the morning? When do you sleep? When do you rest?”

Tre growled, stepping closer to you. “It’s just for a few weeks while we try to finish up this contract. Our work on it will depend on if they’ll sign with us again,” he said.

You mentally said the words along with him. He’d said it so often, you had it committed to memory. “And what if you don’t have a few weeks? Because your body is breaking down, because you never rest, because you never chill? What then? You gonna rest when you’re dead?”

You glanced at him, at the pain in his eyes. His mouth was fixed in a grimace, eyes cold. No matter what you said, he was always going to think his way was the highway. He wasn’t going to budge. He was turning into a mountain before your eyes. You rolled your neck and continued washing off the dinner plates and wine glasses. 

“I’m trying,” he said quietly.

“No, you’re not. If you were trying, this wouldn’t be the first dinner we’ve had together –”

His phone rang and you laughed, shaking your head. What was the point? Tre cursed and picked up the phone, screaming into the phone. 

“I’m in the middle of something,” he said. He listened for a few moments, turning away from you as he continued with the conversation. You chuckled, amazed at how easy it was to sway him when it came to work. Yet you were pleading with him to do right by you.

Truly, why bother? Why fight for a relationship that he clearly didn’t want or need? You felt like you were a hindrance. Like you were in the way of him working himself into the ground. The sad part was that you just wanted him safe. And he just wanted to work. 

He was gone for about ten minutes, likely somewhere in your double home office, clicking away on his computer. You fell into a silent rhythm, washing the utensils and then rinsing off the dishes, draining the other side. 

You took off the kitchen gloves and then washed your hands. Tre re-entered the kitchen, sighing. “I’ll see you next time you decide to come home,” you said.

Tre smacked his lips. “I don’t know what else you want me to do here, baby. You said come home and I’m home. You said you wanted a home cooked meal and here it is,” he said. 

You rubbed your head. “I want you home! And that means your phone is off, your mind is not on work, and you are here with me. Otherwise–” You shrugged and shook your head, the words pushing against your tongue. Pushing you to speak. 

“Otherwise there’s no reason to be together.” You sighed, feeling like a weight had been shoved off your shoulders. You could breathe now that the words were out in the air. You couldn’t take them back. Couldn’t recall them. 

Tre’s face crumpled before he turned around, throwing his hands in the air. “What the hell? You want to break up now?” He asked and turned back to you.

“I don’t know! I’m tired and I’m mad and I don’t want to look at you right now. Go to work, stay here, I don’t care. But you’re sleeping on the couch!” You yelled. 

“Tell me if you’re trying to break up with me,” he said.

“I don’t know. You make me so mad and sad. And I’m tired!” You yelled. You brushed past him. He grabbed your hand, pulling you to a stop. You yanked your hand back. His phone rang and you turned to look at him. You looked pointedly at the phone in his hand and then at him. 

“I hope that you don’t look up five years from now, sad and alone, because you chose work over living your life,” you said. You left him in the kitchen, left him looking at you as if you’d slapped him in the face. 

Tears stung your eyes but you refused to cry. Refused to weaponize your tears to manipulate him into staying. You weren’t going to beg a man to stay. You made your desires clear, multiple times, over many arguments during the past few weeks. There were only so many times you could repeat yourself before you understood that Tre was doing this intentionally. He chose work over you and that hurt most of all. 

Over the next few days, Tre slept on the couch while you continued to sleep in your big, cold bed. You avoided each other as much as possible, both unwilling to look each other in the eye as your words echoed in the silent halls. 

You managed to move around each other, never speaking and communicating with sighs and grunts. He was spending less and less time at work, coming home earlier and earlier. It was something. But was it enough for you? Was he only doing this because he thought he didn’t want to leave you? 

You were coming home more often to Tre already having dinner started or finished, phone nowhere to be seen. Your tempers flashed hot and burned easily, so by the fourth day, you were not surprised that Tre was leaving notes for you. Reaching out to grab your hand sometimes or looking at you with rare heat in his eyes.

That was definitely something you missed these past few weeks. He’d been too tired or too worked up to hold and caress you. To make love to you like you missed. Your previous hurt was still etched into your heart and you weren’t sure what it would take to believe this version of him. Believe that he wanted to change and this wasn’t just an act. 

You were on the couch, curled up with a smutty book. Somebody had to get laid around here. You were in the middle of a juicy part, snuggling deeper into your emerald throw blanket as the words played a movie in your head. Tre’s thick thighs entered your field of vision. 

You glanced up and was met with gray sweatpants showing a very impressive bulge. Tre at rest was already a monster to begin with. Your eyes narrowed as you looked up at him. He grinned, scooting past you to sit on the couch. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, showing off plenty of tattoos that your mouth watered to trace with your tongue. 

Tre cleared his throat, taking off his glasses and man spreading by putting his feet on the table. You were already annoyed by that, but he cracked open his own book, adjusting his body to get more comfortable.

Was this motherfucker for real? A flush of heat made you grip the throw blanket tighter around your shoulders. You curled into your end of the couch, pulling your legs to sit underneath you. Your thick thighs didn’t allow you to stay in this position for long, but you hoped the building ache kept your mind off of the fact that he was being an ass. 

You focused on your book, on the heat and passion of the sex scene you were reading. But the actor you casted in your mind was quickly replaced with Tre. The female main character was swapped with you. You pictured Tre doing the same nasty things as the characters in the book. 

You sighed for the tenth time, getting hotter by each word that you read. The male main character started talking nasty, growling in the girl’s ear. Your body shivered, practically hearing Tre’s voice saying those same nasty things in your ear.

Fucker. He knew those sweatpants were dangerous. You huffed again and Tre cleared his throat. “Something the matter, baby?” He asked.

“Nope, all good,” you answered too quickly, but you didn’t care. You were having an entire crisis where you sat while he sat there so peacefully. You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye to see the hint of a smirk on his lips. 

You loved a well-read man. You knew that he truly was reading and he also knew that it further turned you on. You huffed and adjusted yourself on the couch, moving your legs to the side of you. It relieved the burning ache in your thighs and calves and you hummed in relief.

You narrowed your eyes, determined to re-cast the characters in your mind. But instantly, your mind was creating an entire scene in your head. This was ridiculous. You weren’t going to be subject to this torture, not while Tre refused to apologize.

You stood up and let the couch throw blanket fall from your shoulders. Cold air hit your skin and you wanted to sigh in relief again, but you refused. You smiled at him and he smiled sweetly at you. “Goodnight baby,” he said.

You knew his back hurt from sleeping on the couch but you refused to be the first one to budge in this matter. He needed to do this because he wanted to and not because of some game between you. Though, it looked like he was winning so far. 

You trudged up the stairs, intent on going straight to sleep. You laid down in the dark, thoughts of Tre blowing your back out lulling you to sleep.

Tre became unbearable. He was always catching you at the wrong moment, leaving you flustered and like he was inflicting ten plus psychic damage to your kitty. It was well on its way to purring every time he walked into the room wearing a combination that made your head spin. 

First it was the gray sweatpants. Then he came home drenched in sweat, wearing compression shorts underneath his basketball shorts. He had a small white towel tucked in the waistband of his pants and you wanted to tug it down further so that you could see his Adonis belt.

If that wasn’t enough, you were trying to ignore that he was in the shower while you were laying in bed. He yelled for you to help grab him a towel because he forgot his. When you passed the soft towel to him through the door, you saw his reflection in the mirror. He winked at you as your eyes traveled down, down, down and then you shrieked and backed away. You felt insane for peeping on your own boyfriend, but his ass was well rounded, sculpted, muscles jumping. 

You fanned yourself thinking of it. You had to get him back. Had to start playing dirty yourself. You went deep into your closet, pulling out the skimpy lounge wear. The too tiny shorts, the lady boxers, the oversized T-shirts. 

You walked into the kitchen one Saturday morning, surprised to find him drinking coffee at the rounded dining room table. He had a newspaper in his hand, glasses on but he was looking over the rim. Now he was just being dramatic. 

You sauntered into the kitchen, wearing a purple oversized T-shirt, the kind that rode up whenever you leaned over. You did such a thing, reaching up for the mugs at the higher shelf. Tre moved them some time ago, telling you he did it on purpose so you’d ask for his help. 

“Need help, baby?” Tre asked, his voice gruff.

“No, thank you, baby. I got it,” you said. You managed to snag a mug without it falling on your head and then started the coffee machine. It hissed and roared to life, and you went around the kitchen, opening cabinets and closing them. 

Tre cleared his throat. “Are you looking for something?” He asked.

“I’m trying to decide if I want to move things around in here. Or get rid of what we aren’t using. What do you think?” You asked. You lifted on your tiptoes, looking into the spice cabinet. 

“Whatever you think is best, baby,” he said. He cleared his throat again and you looked at him over your shoulder. 

“Are you okay, baby? Do you need something for that throat?” You asked.

“No, ma’am,” he said and flicked the newspaper, returning his attention to it. You moved to grab your coffee, doctoring it up how you liked. Then, you sat at the table with him and crossed your legs, in plain view. Tre watched your movements covertly, a smirk playing about his lips. 

You smirked back. It carried on like this for another week, tension so thick in the house that you could cut it with a knife. He teased you mercilessly with things you’d told him were sexy on him. His loungewear or his jeans. The way he manspread all over the couch. 

You continued to tease him, parading around in your bonnets and pajamas, short shorts, and leggings. You’d caught him staring a few times, biting his lip and that noticeable bulge getting thicker and thicker. 

You were at your wit’s end by the time the following weekend rolled around. He had been consistently coming home, spending more time around the house doing things for himself. Getting back into his vinyl records, playing the odd game, or doing a few pushups and crunches on the floor of your home gym. 

You were in the laundry room, pulling warm clothes out of the dryer and placing it in a wooden basket, when Tre cornered you in the room. He blocked you from leaving and bit his lip, looking you up and down. You weren’t wearing anything revealing, just some gray joggers and a tank top. He looked at you like he could see you naked beneath it. 

Tre hummed and walked into the room, making you back away with a smirk on your face. “You think you’re slick,” he said.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you said, all sugary sweet and innocent. You adjusted the laundry basket on your hip and continued backing away until your butt hit the countertop. 

The marble surface was smooth and cold on your butt, providing some relief to the raging heat burning through you. Tre leaned in, smelling heavenly. Like green sage and sandalwood. He gently cupped your cheek, pulling you closer and pressing a feather light kiss to the corner of your mouth. 

“You’re driving me crazy, please forgive me,” he whispered.

You were tempted. Tempted worse than a kid facing down two cookies if he waited and didn’t eat the first one. You took a deep inhale of his scent, bringing your nose closer to his neck. His thick beard tickled your cheeks but you kept going, wanting to crawl into his skin. 

“Are you going to take me seriously?” You asked.

He groaned, stepping closer. “Haven’t I shown you that I have?” He asked.

“But how do I know that you won’t go running the next time your phone rings?” You asked. 

He sighed, nudging your jaw with his nose. He inhaled your scent as well, breathing in the tropical, fruity lotion you wore. His breath fanned across your overheated skin. Your knees were weak, wobbly, and you were struggling to stay upright. 

As if you summoned the damn thing, his phone rang in his pocket. Your smile dropped, body cooling. You smiled at him, hoping he didn’t see the hurt on your face. “Duty calls,” you sang.

You pushed against his body and he stepped back with a sigh and a frown. You avoided looking at his eyes, walking out of the laundry room. The air had turned stifling in the laundry room but now you had room to breathe. For your heart to calm down. 

You went into the bedroom, wanting to sit on the bed while you folded laundry. But the soft click of the door made you turn around to see Tre. He turned his pockets inside out, showing you that there was no phone. He turned in a slow circle, lifting his shirt, and you got a great view of the curve of his ass and his back. 

He held out his arms. “Phone’s off,” he said, sounding pleased as punch.

You held onto the laundry basket, using it as a barrier. You’d need it. Because if you gave in, if you let your libido speak for you, you were getting pregnant that damn night. After nearly two weeks of teasing and edging, you were ready to combust. Ready to explode. Your fingers curled around the stiff wood of the basket and you smirked.

“Cute,” you said.

He smiled. He stepped forward slowly, looking at you with that cute, mischievous smile on his face. “Forgive me,” he said.

You tilted your head. “Why should I?” You asked. Maybe you could pick a fight and keep him at bay. Keep that fire out of his eyes. He had to stop looking at you like that. Had to stop keeping one hundred percent of his focus on you.

“Because I heard you, baby. I don’t want to wake up five years from now, alone and watching my life pass me by. I want to build with you, grow with you, and show you that I am listening. I will do better because I know that I want you here, home, with me,” he said. 

Was it possible to get pregnant with just a few words? There was a strange twinge in your belly that told you it just might be possible. You wanted to melt into a puddle and grin like a loon. 

“Pretty words,” you said, some part of you enjoying poking him. He was unfazed. He put his hands on the laundry basket. When had he gotten so close? 

He smiled as he gently tugged it from your hands. You stepped forward, not wanting to get rid of your last remaining barrier. That last bit of resistance. You didn’t want to believe this. Didn’t want to get comfortable with it only for him to fall into old patterns and leave you looking like Bozo the clown. 

However, with him looking into your eyes and the way you’d been on edge the past few days, your arms started to slacken. If you didn’t find relief soon, the type of relief only he could give, the next time you brushed against a table you were going to cum on the spot. 

Tre tugged the basket from your hands and placed it on the ottoman at the end of the bed. He invaded your personal space, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “What is it gonna take for you to forgive me?” He asked.

You looked towards the ceiling. You were on fire. You were in shambles. You were not okay with his proximity. It took everything in you not to jump his bones. But you were always folding first. It was time for him to grovel a smidgen.

“I’d have to know that you’re really, really sorry,” you said. You smiled, grabbing his hands and leading him to the bed. He raised an eyebrow, smiling and following you. The back of your legs hit the edge of the bed and you sat down. 

You were eye level with his bulge, growing thicker by the second. He was back in heather gray sweatpants, dick print protruding through the fabric. 

“How can I show that?” He asked, a light teasing in his voice.

You laid back on the bed with a self-indulgent smile. “Ravish me until I say otherwise.” you said.

Tre chuckled, leaning over the bed so that he could start tugging on your joggers and panties. He pulled it off of your legs in one quick snap and you shrieked from the rough action. Perhaps you weren’t the only one at your limit. Ready to snap. 

Tre dropped to his knees, licking his lips as he caught a glimpse of your gleaming pussy. He smoothed his hands on your thighs, nudging them apart. He hummed, getting his first full look in a month and a half. Your pussy throbbed from the look in his eyes. 

His thumbs dug into your meaty thighs, finding pressure points that made your teeth instantly chatter. He leaned forward, taking a deep breath, inhaling your scent. He sighed with his mouth open, air fanning across your damp pussy. Had you known that you were gonna have sex today, you might have cleaned up a little. Freshened up better. 

But Tre had no reservation as he kissed your thighs. Kissed the side of your knees. He moved your thighs over his shoulders, rubbing his nose in your essence. You sighed with a light moan, closing your eyes. This was it. You were going to go off like a bottle rocket any moment. 

“Baby, I want you to know that I am so, very, very sorry. I made you feel alone and I never wanted to treat you that way,” he whispered to your pussy. You almost felt like an intruder. You peeked at him over your belly and saw his eyes completely focused on the center of you. 

His tongue darted out and licked up the slit of your center and you hissed, leaning away from him. With his hands wrapped around your thighs, you had nowhere to go. He successfully immobilized you as he continued to slowly coax you open. Your slick dripped down your pussy and you moaned, thighs tingling. 

“Fuck,” you moaned. Unable to stand it. He had to go faster. Had to get you off as soon as possible. Couldn’t he tell that you were dying over here? 

“I will never, ever, ever, abandon you like that again. You are what is most important to me. I will make sure you know that every day,” he said. He followed up his words with licks and groans, slurping on your essence. Your moans turned into desperate whimpers. 

“Every, single, day,” he said, punctuating every word with a lick to your clit. His lush lips latched on and began to suck, wringing desperate cries from you. Pressure built in your tummy, building and building, going higher and higher, until white light flashed behind your eyes as you came on his tongue.

He moaned, continuing to eat you out through it. You were sensitive as hell, twitching with every new lick, every new moan, every new suckle. But it felt so good, that you were heading into another orgasm. Or it could be prolonged from the first. You weren’t sure as you thrashed your head back and forth, upper body twisting on the bed.

You pushed at his head, tiny cries and whimpers. Tre kept going, grabbing your hands and pinning them to the bed. You whined, moving your hips. But you only managed to move your pussy against his face, his beard tickling your pussy and thighs. 

“Please, baby, please, baby, please,” you chanted.

“Cum f’me one more time,” he groaned. He increased his efforts, abusing your poor little clit. The sensitive bud was driving you insane but you continued to beg for more. You screamed into the room, releasing another orgasm. Tre’s satisfied hum vibrated against your pussy as he licked you until you came back down.

He pulled away from your pussy, long spit chain still connected you two. Your body was on fire, damp with sweat, as you panted and huffed from such intense orgasms back to back. 

“Look at you, All nice and creamy. All wet and ripping. You making a fuckin’ mess,” he murmured. His voice was rough, deep, sending shivers up and down your spine. 

Your pussy clenched and clenched around nothing. You didn’t know if you had another in you, but you were struggling against his hold. You needed him inside you right fucking now. You looked at Tre as he still glanced at your pussy. His beard was shiny with your mess. He finally let you go, wiping more of your juices into his beard, getting it nice and coated. It grew rough in the weeks he wasn’t worshiping your throbbing hole. 

Tre stood up, rubbing the bulge over his pants. You sat up, licking his stomach and then looking up at him. He grinned at you. You grinned back and then bit his stomach, grabbing a big bite without clamping down. Tre chuckled, stomach jostling in your mouth. You released him and smiled.

You tugged his pants down, freeing his long glorious dick. Slightly curved, you missed his dick. You kissed the tip, unable to resist being apart for too long. You looked up at him and then opened your mouth.

Tre chuckled, grabbed the base of his shaft and tapping it against your tongue. He rolled his hips, rubbing his thick head against your tongue. He groaned, throwing his head back for a brief moment. 

“You forgive me, baby?” He asked. He coated your lips with his precum and then slipped back inside your mouth.

“I’m getting there,” you groaned around his dick. It sounded a bit muffled but Tre laughed so he must have heard you. He caressed your cheek with his thumb, looking at you like you hung the moon. 

It sent a wave of feel good chemicals flooding your system and you closed your mouth around his dick. Tre hissed, pulling out of your mouth. He stroked back inside, holding your face while he face fucked you.

You relaxed your throat and mouth, letting him use you exactly how you needed. You moaned at the salty taste of his precum hitting your tongue. You swallowed what you could, trying to re-learn the shape and feel of his dick. The curve made him accidentally poke your cheek and you looked up at him.

Tre moaned, sighing with a quick, rushed, “fuck.” He continued stroking, taking what he needed from your mouth. You slobbered and slurped on him, getting his dick nice and wet. He slipped out of you suddenly and you whined, looking at him. 

“I wanna cum in that tight, dripping pussy, baby. On them knees,” he said and licked his lip. The gold chain around his neck twinkled from the overhead light. You grinned, getting off of the bed.

You stood up and turned around. Before you kneeled on the bed, Tre stopped you and lifted your tank top off of your shoulders. You lifted your arms and let him pull it off of you. You smiled over your shoulder while Tre kissed your neck. You moaned, tilting your head so he had more access.

His fingers came around your chest, fondling your breasts and pinching your nipples. You moaned, desperate tinny cries. He stepped forward, making you bend over the bed.

You climbed on, bending your knees and sticking your ass in the air. Tre hummed, running his hands over your ass. He squeezed and kneaded, putting you at ease and making you respond to his humming. 

He placed two quick kisses to the globes of your ass, following it up with love bites. “Hey!” You said.

Tre chuckled. “Missed your cute ass. Forgiven me yet, woman? I’m trynna love on you,” he said. 

“I don’t know. I think better with dick inside me,” you said. The air whooshed from your lungs as Tre shoved in, leaving you no room to prepare. You screeched, falling forward onto your face. 

Tre hummed with deep relief, like stepping into a jacuzzi after a long day. You shrieked and shivered, feeling stretched out to the max. Fuck. You forgot how big he was. How deeply and completely he filled you up. 

“Thinking more clearly, baby?” He asked, his voice full of teasing. You could hear the smile in his voice. Fucker. 

You drew in deep breaths, getting acclimated to his size. You got onto your elbows and then stretched your back, giving you a better arch. Tre groaned, pulling back and then slamming back in.

“Fuck,” you choked out.

He repeated the motion, pulling out to the tip and then slamming back in. Your ass smacked loudly against his thighs, wet slaps echoing in the room. 

“Gon’ answer me?” He asked. 

“Fuck, yes, I’m thinking more clearly,” you whined. Your mind was clear. Fuck whatever he did, he just needed to keep stroking into you just as he was doing.

He made it worse. He started increasing his pace, slamming you back on his dick in quick, hard thrusts that shook your whole body with the force of it. You choked on your whines and moans, choked on his dick spearing you from the inside out. 

You creamed on his dick and he moaned. “Goddamn, you feeling so good. So nice and wet, baby. You hear that?” He asked.

You nodded, but eventually let out a squeaky, “yes.” Yes, you heard your pussy sucking him down greedily. Yes, you heard the evidence of your arousal. He made you cum so many times already, but you were building towards another one. 

“Hmm, I feel you clutching this dick. Show me what’s yours, baby,” he groaned. His voice was rough with his arousal, deep with his lust. He stroked so deep, hitting all your good spots. 

He grunted and smacked your ass, gathering some of your slick with his fingers playing with your clit. You cried out and jerked forward, interrupting the rhythm. Tre removed his fingers, picking up the pace once more. Then he brought those wet fingers to your ass, rubbing his thumb around your tight, puckered hole. Your teeth chattered as he continued to push inward, push past that bit of resistance.

Now, you really felt full. “Oh, baby, fuck, please,” you cried out. 

“Be a good little girl and cum on this dick,” he growled.

“Shit,” you whispered as you did just that, flooding his dick with fresh slick. He slipped more easily inside of you, grunting as you clenched around his throbbing dick. He moaned, increasing his strokes until he was soon following after.

His hot cum shot inside of you, painting your creamy walls with his cum. Your back bowed and he wiggled his thumb in your ass. Drool leaked from your lips as you came down from your climax.

Tre slowed his movements, pumping the last of it inside of you. He stilled his hips, kept you plugged up with his dick. You shivered and twitched on him, completely spent and out of breath. He kissed down your spine, rubbing your back. You groaned. Somehow, he zeroed in on your problem areas, the parts of your back that ached and ached all the time. 

“Baby? You forgive me?” He asked.

You whimpered. He expected you to talk after something like that? You needed at least two days to recover. 

“I forgive you, baby. Just…please don’t do that again,” you said, your voice small. Tre stilled with his lips against your back. He nodded once and then nodded again like he was confirming for himself as well. 

“I won’t. I’ll be right here with you,” he promised. He softened inside of you and slowly slipped out. You groaned. Tre spread your asscheeks and watched his cum slowly glide out of your pussy.

He cursed softly. “Need to do this more often, you made such a mess,” he said.

You chuckled. You were a limp noodle at the moment. You were unable to move a muscle. Not a single twitch. Tre kissed your cheek, smacking your ass lightly while he went to grab a washcloth. He cleaned you off and then got onto the bed with you.

He pulled you into the crook of his arm, snuggling against your back. Your ass wiggled against his dick.

“Behave,” he grunted. He pulled you as far as you were able to go and wrapped his strong arms around you. You stayed in bed for the rest of the day, talking and laughing, and enjoying each other like you used to do.

You only left the bed long enough to get food, laughing your way back to each other. Renewing your commitment to each other with every smile, every joke, and every twinkle in your eyes.

There's more Tre to love! The Secret Tre Files

[tastingmellow]

Hey y’all! This is just a reminder! I’m still taking headcanon requests! The ones I haven’t done yet I’ll start again tomorrow! ❤️

[laketaj24]

Sooo if I write a Trevante fic based off my current real life man would y’all read it? I wanna call it Naked. Preview, why not? 🤷🏾‍♀️👀

(Side Note: My man remind of Trevante really. And he inspires me sooo tell me what y’all think or not lol)

His fingers were electric, and the only reason I knew was because I was water. Every time he was around a I felt a surge of energy through me as if every nerve was alive. I sizzled with his currenct and radiated with a force unknown to me until that moment, I called that force hope. He was hope. I know, cheesy. One touch from a guy with brown eyes and my heart jolted with hope but it only took one touch to heal a woman of affliction. One touch is powerful. And no, I’m not saying he is holy.

“You’re doing well.” His playful voice is behind me. The weights were heavy but he had guided them... placing them on my shoulders. “When you lift, exhale.” His hand pressed firmly on my abdomen. What a fucking man.

He moved as if he had a purpose, every step intentional. I aspired to be like him, each step I took barely executed, barely with a purpose.

“Like this.” I done as directed feeling him behind me trying not to faint.

“Good job ma.” He smiled. I couldn’t see it but feel it in his tone.

Y’all interested or nah?

[desiraypark]

Welcome

MY FAN-FIC LEADING MEN (LINKS LEAD TO MASTER LISTS)

(I only write for the fictional characters they portrayed) ADAM DRIVER ALGEE SMITH CHADWICK BOSEMAN* JOHN BOYEGA KOFI SIRIBOE (Coming Soon) LAKEITH STANFIELD ROBERT SHEEHAN (Coming Soon) TREVANTE RHODES

*As you may have guessed, I sadly and respectfully will no longer be writing for characters played by Chadwick Boseman. Thank you to everyone who supported the works I'd written. ❤️ If you don’t see your fave characters portrayed by these actors, it’s probably because a) I’ve never seen the movie/show, b) I didn’t like the character lol, or c), as stated above, it’s a non-fictional character.

Roleplay: I sometimes interact with roleplay accounts and the posts can get pretty long! Add “desiray rp” to your Filtering lists if you don't feel like scrolling through that shit lol

ARCHIVE OF OUR OWN Where I post my heavier/darker and more self-indulgent (aka hornier) stuff. [Tumblr Master List]

POSTING SCHEDULE No longer exists. I’ll get to it when I get to it lol ABOUT ME Name: “Desiray Parker” (aka Desi) Pronouns: She/Her Age: Late Twenties Sun Sign: Capricorn FF Writing Experience: Been secretly writing fanfic since I was in middle school. Opened a couple of Tumblrs specifically to post fanfic, but deleted them like a day later out of fear lol. Now, I’m here enjoying myself!

If you'd like to send a little monetary love my way, here is a link to my Ko-Fi page: https://ko-fi.com/desiraypark20. You'd be paying me for my time, not my completed works--and I'd be extremely grateful for it 🥰

2021 UPDATES PLEASE READ!!!

Age Limit

This is a 20+ blog. Of course, I can only go by what people put in their bio. If you're 18 or 19, I'm okay with your follow but I won't be engaging with you. If you're under the age of 18, you will be blocked.

[collapse-and-comfort]

Quick little instances from The Predator that sent my whumperflies fluttering: 

Nebraska Williams admonishing Nettles. 

There’s whump in the broader sense in this movie: People being checked into walls and held by the throat, beaten, handcuffed, defiant, etc. (And there’s so little whumpy fan fiction for this that it kills me!) But, anyway, some smaller examples that kind of caught me by surprise were the scenes where Nebraska Williams (played by the amazingly cool Trevante Rhoades) tries to calm Nettles (played by Augusto Aguilera). 

They belong to a small group of ex-military men who are in the custody of the government/mental health system. They’ve been together long enough that they know each other’s backstories, and have developed a rapport. There are a couple of scenes where Nebraska sees that Nettles is becoming frenetic and agitated, and so Nebraska tries to keep him quiet. His tone isn’t necessarily the calmest. It seems like the voice someone uses if they know how badly something can go in a short amount of time. That leads me to believe that while they were institutionalized together, Nebraska tended to watch out for “Netty,” whether Nebraska was protecting him from himself, or whatever might befall him in the system. 

[brokehorrorfan]

New Release Review: The Predator

The Predator's intergalactic opening - a rare moment told from the predator's point of view - could be mistaken for a clip lifted from the latest Guardians of the Galaxy. A giant spaceship races through the space before crashing on Earth; a classic science fiction trope brought to the screen with the latest CGI technology. It's at this point that the audience is introduced to the world director Shane Black (The Nice Guys, Iron Man 3) has crafted for The Predator, a continuation of the Predator franchise that launched in 1987.

Quinn McKenna (Boyd Holbrook, Logan), a mercenary sniper for the United States government, is in the middle of a mission in Mexico when the crash occurs nearby. With a front-row view of the wreck, he helps himself to a few souvenirs - including a Predator mask - as proof of his extraterrestrial encounter. The stolen goods inadvertently put his autistic son, Rory (Jacob Tremblay, Room), in the line of danger.

Fearing that Quinn knows too much, government agent Traeger (Sterling K. Brown, This Is Us) turns him into a patsy. Quinn is treated as a military mental patient, joining a group of other discharged soldiers who suffer from various issues. After witnessing the predator's destruction firsthand, the ragtag band agree to join Quinn on his mission. Casey Bracket (Olivia Munn, X-Men: Apocalypse), a biologist unexpected called in to help the government, reluctantly joins the cause as well.

Black and co-writer Fred Dekker (The Monster Squad) implement several creative ideas never before explored in the Predator universe, expanding the mythology while paying respect to the films that came before it. (The Alien vs. Predator movies are rightfully ignored.) The recycling of classic lines is unnecessary, but that bit of fan servicing is gratefully taken care of in the first act. Jake Busey (Starship Troopers) - whose father, Gary Busey, starred in Predator 2 - presence serves as another wink to fans.

With Predator taking place in the jungle, 1990's Predator 2 heading to Los Angeles, and 2010's Predators returning to a jungle, The Predator's suburban setting is a welcome change of pace. Black eschews his habit for setting his films during Christmas, instead swapping it for Halloween. While the autumnal backdrop lends itself to a trick 'r treating scene - which ends in the first of several holy-shit moments - the film doesn't have much of a Halloween atmosphere. If a movie goes out of its way to show a sign advertising a Halloween dance, said dance should appear on screen.

The Predator earns its R rating with aplomb. Beyond the crass, humorous dialogue, The Predator is the goriest movie to hit the big screen this year. Some of the CGI is spotty, particularly when it comes to digital blood, but there numerous practical effects shine. The predator itself remains an impressive feat of creature design; even the upgraded predator is unable to improve upon the wow factor of the original.

The film suffers from some choppy editing and a flimsy timeline, which leads me to believe that Black's initial cut ran significantly longer than the 108-minute theatrical version. Perhaps the trims were for the best, as the quick pace maintains momentum. The anticlimactic ending, however, reeks of a rewrite. Incongruous with the smart and explosive action that came before it, the final act feels like a generic Hollywood action movie.

Most of the issues stem from the introduction of the so-called "upgraded predator," a more evolved version of the monster. Although I appreciate the effort to explore uncharted territory, it is wholly unnecessary to introduce an even bigger bad when the predator itself is already a seemingly unbeatable threat. To top it off, the upgraded predator doesn't come off as much stronger than its classic predecessor, particularly with the limp finale.

The Predator continues the franchise's tradition of being fueled by testosterone. There are only two women in the cast - Munn and Yvonne Strahovski (Dexter), who plays Tremblay's mother - but thankfully each of them are portrayed as strong characters. Munn, in particular, has several moments of badassery, although it's hard to buy a scientist being so adept at fighting and firearms.

The soldiers are played by Trevante Rhodes (Moonlight), Keegan-Michael Key (Key and Peele), Thomas Jane (The Mist), Alfie Allen (Game of Thrones), and Augusto Aguilera (Chasing Life). War movies often struggle to develop an ensemble cast of grunts, but The Predator does so well; arguably even better than the original Predator. Each character has their own quirks and is given several opportunities to shine.

Tremblay's character being on the spectrum is handled gracefully - although it's only included to advance the plot - but the same cannot be said Thomas Jane. His character has Tourette's with the stereotypical tic of swearing at random, which is used solely as a conduit for cheap comedy. It leads to some admittedly funny moments, but it's a poor representation of a serious disorder. It's also a waste of Jane's immense talents, although he thankfully has a tender moment later in the film.

The Predator offers too many laugh-out-loud moments to count. No single character serves as the comedic relief; everyone has their share of funny lines. Key is a natural when it comes to comedy, and his character is written to be a jokester, but Sterling and Tremblay unexpectedly get some of the biggest laughs of the movie. As with any comedy, it may not hold up upon multiple viewings, but there is nary a dull moment upon first watch.

The Predator is a flawed but fun return to the Predator universe. Black clearly respects the franchise and its fans - lest we forget, he acted in the original Predator - but his effort remains accessible to newcomers with no knowledge of the prior installments. The plot devices don't always click, and the last act leaves a bit to be desired following such a solid set-up, but the nearly nonstop action, laughs, and bloodshed are enough to overlook most of the missteps.

[henneseyhoe]

What A Woman Wants; Taste

Trevante Rhodes x BLACK!FEM!Reader

WARNINGS: SMUT, Chiron an eater in this but when is he not, pussy slapping, slut shaming (kinda), fingering, dirty talk, drug use(just a luh weed) no actual PinV, !!Unedited!!.

SUMMARY: The beginning of various stories about the reader, her diary and her many favorites.

✮✮✮✮

Whore, slut, fast, hot, easy. What really is the definition of promiscuity? Maybe just a woman who sleeps around. Or someone who’s had many boyfriends and flings. Would she be a whore if she slept with a married man? What if she didn’t know? Would she still be a whore?

The word was as complex as sexual relations in itself, but in her mind, everyone was a whore. Everyone had whorish ways. Some people liked to be smacked on the ass when they fucked, some liked to be spat on, tied up, scratched, degraded, praised, and then some. So what was the problem that she got what she liked but from different people? Nothing, she thought.

She had men from one end to the other side of the pond. Short, tall, muscular, skinny, masculine, feminine, you name it. She’s seen dicks nearly the size of her forearm all over the globe. She kept track of the ones she liked in a diary and tossed the ones that were no fun.

One of her favorites who also happens to be an old classmate from college ate pussy like a starved man and only got up when she told him to, and that’s exactly how she liked her men; doing what she told them to do.

A blunt in hand and tattooed legs spread from one end of the bed to the other, he drank from her fountain, quenching his thirst as she gushed around his fingers. His other free hand softly caressed her bare pussy, fingertips dancing along her mound before they pressed against her aching clit.

Pulling his tongue from alongside his thrusting fingers, he looks down and admires the wet and dirty scene in front of him, the second pair of your lips shining like he had just applied baby oil to her.

“Pretty ass pussy”

“Yeah?”

He nods. “Mhm. Looking like this and you expect me to keep my mouth off of you?”

She hums out a moan, her pretty toes curling at that.

“I missed you all month, you might be in this position for a while”

He smirked and pulls out of her, watching as her hole winked and shrunk back to it’s small size that once accommodated his thick fingers. Pulling the hood of her clit back, the pink button pops up from underneath, greeting him with a few twitches as her pussy clenched around nothing.

“Fuck, baby…”

She watched him with just as much affection, but his eyes were too fixed on her heat to glare back at her. Blowing cold air onto the bundle of nerves, he pulls a long moan from her and he smiles in return before taking four of his fingers a licking across the tips of them, his other hand still occupied with the hood of her clit as he did so.

He pumped fake a few times, lifting that hand to her pussy and making her flinch before his hand finally came down and spanked her sensitive clit, the woman nearly dropping the spliff in her hand as her chest rises, a shock of both pain and pleasure running through her core.

“Fuck!” She breathes, smoke exiting her mouth. She was quick to sit the drug down in an ashtray laid on the bed next to her, the man on his knees in front of her still laying smacks to her pussy until her legs were shaking and she was squirting all over herself. Swirls in her stomach and stars in her eyes, she almost thanked god that her ass was halfway off of the bed so her sheets didn’t get wet but she soon realized she celebrated too early, the large palm of his hand beginning to rub her entire pussy instead and replace the teasing strikes, all of the juices that were once just falling on the hardwood floor spraying on anything within ten inches of her. That included on herself too.

She couldn’t speak and tell him to let up off of her if she wanted to, her stomach felt like it caved in as she had yet to let go of her breath to continue receiving oxygen.

He opened his mouth and welcomed all that she gave onto his tongue, a smile also playing on his face. He loved it when it was messy, wet to the point where it could be considered soaked even. His goatee covered in pussy juice showed and proved that to be true, droplets of her dripping from his chin.

Even after she was finished he still went in and licked her up from her clit to the puckering rim of her asshole, fixated upon the idea to make her cum again if she’d let him.

✮✮✮✮

💌~ startin this thang off with some good ole pussy eatin, iktr!😼💀 hope yall enjoyed tho, i think imma really enjoy this lil series just cause it’s a bunch of random shorts and not an actual storyline 😭 like everything and everyone is connected still but it doesn’t matter until brought up lmao.

[megamindsecretlair]

Mr. Black, Part 4

Pairing: Tre x Assistant!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. FILTH. PWP, cursing, PIV, fingering (fem receiving), oral (male and fem receiving) dirty talk, praise kink, dumbass reader, power imbalance, Tre is a boss, all consensual.

Summary: Tre invited you to his place. After pampering yourself on his dime, you're still not sure that this is what you should be doing. However, he can be very persuasive.

Word Count: 6,439k

A/N: Lissen, don't look at me okay?! This story is scratching a deep fucking niche. Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! And please put ages in bios! Or get blockt!

Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 - Completed

Taglist: @planetblaque @browngirldominion @notapradagurl7 @honeyoriginalz @blackerthings @sevikasblackgf @henneseyhoe @miyahmaraj @my1onlysenpai @darqchilddaydreamz @badassdoll @playgurlxoxo @eggnox @abeautifulmindexposed @theyscreamsannii @melaninpov @mcdesij @kholdkill @blowmymbackout @theunsweetenedtruth @monaeesstuff @cocoeffects @soft-persephone @duckiesfairy @slippinninque @westside-rot @prettypink-princesss @kawaiisadoglu @thadelightfulone @the-crystal-one

Getting pampered was exactly the remedy you needed. You got your nails and toes down in your favorite color. You couldn’t stop looking at the pretty color on your nails and squealing about it being on Tre’s dime. You felt slightly guilty, so you made sure to tip with your own money.

You went shopping for a sexy pair of black lingerie with all kinds of peek-a-boo straps that you imagined Tre uncovering. The front covered your boobs with an intricate flower design trailing down to the panties that covered your pussy. Straps connected to the underwire, middle, and over your hips. The back was a criss cross of straps ending up with a strip of fabric in your ass that was surprisingly comfortable. 

You took your time getting dolled up. Running a shower to get the gunk off of you and then hopping in the bath to truly soak. You massaged your favorite lotion into your skin. You felt dirty over such a simple task but you knew that Tre would appreciate the extra care.

You felt downright naughty as you shimmied into the lingerie piece. You checked your ass in the mirror while you adjusted the straps and made sure that your body was banging. Tonight had to be the last night you two got together. 

You couldn’t be held responsible for this thing between you. You had no idea what to call it. He wasn’t yours and you weren’t his, despite his proclamations otherwise. You didn’t need the extra headache of sleeping with your boss.

But how could you stop? When you got around him, you just wanted to hop to his every command. You loved the way he loved your body, playing it like a well tuned instrument in a prodigy’s hands. If you experienced such incomparable pleasure, who else could compete? 

You had time to think about how you were going to tell him that tonight absolutely had to be the last time between you. It had to be. You chanted that in your head as you pulled up to Tre’s house. 

You expected some huge mansion with fifteen bathrooms and a million bedrooms. His house was a modest two story that was picturesque in its simplicity. The house was white with black trim, clean lawn, and a wide brick front porch. There was even a tiny fence around the lawn, more decorative than anything else. 

Ascending the stairs was not unlike walking to your death as you knocked on the door and rang the doorbell. Your nerves skittered along your spine, twisting your stomach into painful shapes. 

Before long, Tre opened the door. You didn’t know why you kept expecting certain things about him. He defied expectations. Laughed in its face as he marched to the tune of his own drum. 

He licked his lips as he took in your sexy little black dress and fuck me heels. He stepped to the side and held his hand out so that he could help you over the threshold. You took his warm hand with a smile, letting him pull you inside. He closed and locked the door behind you.

The foyer area was spacious with dark features. The furniture was dark wood, floors cherry, and the walls painted a velvety blue. He helped slip your coat off of your shoulders and sighed in appreciation.

“Good evening, beautiful,” he said.

You lifted an eyebrow and turned to look at him. He said nothing as he continued to look you over. Wait till he saw what you wore underneath.

You dug in your clutch purse and handed him his card. “You have to take this back,” you said. 

He looked at the card in your hands. He placed his hands in his pockets and you pressed your lips together, preparing for a fight. You were a bit distracted by what he wore. He was in his signature black but pared way down. He wore a long-sleeved sweater with the sleeves rolled up three-quarters of the way up his muscled arms.

His pants were loose fitting, almost like lounge pants, but didn’t look to be so. He didn’t wear shoes in the house, opting instead for black house shoes. His glasses were perched on his nose and his beard looked just as soft as you remembered from earlier in the day. 

You squared your shoulders and shoved the card against his chest. “You have to take this back,” you said once more. 

He smirked at the card. “As much as I want you to keep them heels on, I will ask you to slip them off,” he said.

“Are you listening to me?” 

“Keep the card. It’s yours now. Spend all my money,” he said.

You sputtered and gaped at him. “I-I can’t. That’s…” 

The complete opposite to what you were trying to do tonight. Would it be completely wrong to wait till after you got dicked down to tell him that this was over? You wrestled with your morals. Yesss…

“Sir,” you said with a deep breath. Time to rip the band aid.

“I made us dinner and I want to discuss some things with you before you try to end this,” he said.

“How did you know?” 

Tre only shook his head, nodding down at your shoes. You scoffed as you finally took off your heels. You bit back a moan as your feet hit the cold wood. You wiggled your toes and Tre caught the motion with an amused smile. 

“We’re similar in a lot of ways. Stubborn to the point of obstinate,” he said. 

He grabbed your hand and pulled you deeper into the house. You put the card up in your clutch one-handed. To your left, there was a small living room with a few couches and chairs. More like a receiving room than anything people actually lived in. Next to it, there was a formal dining room with dark tables and chairs, a cabinet with fancy glassware. It was like you stepped into a magazine. Everything was decorated and gorgeous.

Further down the hallway, a staircase led up to the second floor. It was a subtle spiral staircase and you wondered if the tour would continue up there. You supposed not. 

The hallway opened up to a family room. Here, the furniture looked a little more lived in. The walls were paneled and matched the blue couches. The stone fireplace did not have a fire lit. There was a large screen TV on the wall with a wooden cabinet beneath it with game consoles, remotes, and DVDs stacked in the corner. 

It seemed instantly cozy, like you just wanted to sink down onto one of the couches and sleep for five years. On the other side of the staircase, the kitchen had a half wall separating it from the main living room. There were three black bar stools that Tre led you to. He pulled it out for you and you sat down.

He entered the kitchen and pulled a top off of a boiling pot. The food smelled divine. Like creamy pasta. 

The kitchen had stained cabinets with a stone backsplash. The countertops were a light shade of ash wood and he had every modern compliance on the market. You eyed everything warily. 

Maybe he rented this place. There was no way he was this damn refined. Not with the way he acted most of the time. You felt like you were out of your depth here. You were used to dealing with well-meaning men who just…weren’t grown in the grand scheme of things.

Half the time, you had to do all the work. Sure, they said the right things and did the right things. But sometimes, little things would bother you. If it was their decision to go to the chocolate shop, you would pick out some candy. At the register, they would ask if you were going to buy it. It was incredibly awkward pulling your wallet out for an unexpected expense.

It was why you hated asking for things. Fuck ‘em. You made your own money and you didn’t need anyone to buy you things. Tre’s chain around your thigh rubbed against your other thigh as you settled fully on the bar stool. You still felt incredibly guilty wearing it but it added to how sexy you felt.

You were a conflicted ball of nerves and you hated your brain sometimes. 

“You think that this is something I started on the spur of the moment. I’m not that spontaneous,” Tre said, breaking the silence. 

You snapped your attention to him. He had his back to you while he stirred the pot. He tapped the wooden spoon against the pot and then picked up a metal one. He dipped it into the sauce, tasted it, and then rinsed it off. 

He replaced the top and then turned to look at you, leaning his arms on the countertop. “I’ve never been a trees for the forest type of guy. I see the whole damn forest. I see beyond it. I see what I want and I go for it with a single-minded focus. It’s helped in business,” he continued. 

Your heart thundered in your chest. You had no idea where this was going, but it seemed important. 

“When you started, I knew I wanted you. You were so…good.” 

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” you said.

He shook his head. “Not bad. But it pissed me off. When you fire people for a living, you have to turn off that empathic part of yourself. You can’t see people, you can only see numbers. When you started, I wanted to stamp that goodness out if I could. Get you to quit on your own.” 

You gasped. “Are you fuckin’ kidding me?” 

Tre held up his hands. “Let me finish.” 

You wanted to climb over the table top and strangle that thick neck of his. But this was the most you ever heard him speak in one sitting. He was very much an action type of man. So you bit your tongue and waved for him to continue. 

“I needed you to quit because I couldn’t fire you. I promise you, you could have asked for all my life’s savings and I would’ve gladly handed it over. I didn’t need that shit if I was destroying people’s lives every twenty minutes.” 

You licked your lips as you digested this. You still knew so little about this man. He constantly surprised you. 

“I tried to resist you. I tried my hardest. I demanded shit. But the more you rose to the occasion, the more turned on I got. I don’t want to treat you like a sex doll, but half my day is spent bricked up just trying to get back in between your legs.”

Your pussy throbbed at his words. He shattered your world with these confessions. A world you carefully built brick by brick. Once you figured out how to interact with someone, you placed them in boxes. Tre was firmly in the asshole box, but now you weren’t so sure. 

“I just knew that the more I demanded, the more you’d get fed up and quit. So I could get you out of my system. I could get an ugly assistant and move on with my life. But then you kept calling me Sir, kept doing great work despite the typos and the lollygagging, and…I lost. I lost to you.” 

He stared at you with a crippling intensity. “When I called you into my office to address the typos, I didn’t know what would happen when I spanked you. I was ready for you to call HR or the police. But I had to know what your ass felt like in my hands. When you let me continue, it was like an early Christmas present. I had to see what else I could get away with.” 

He slowly walked around the kitchen, exiting it, and walking closer to you. Your eyes tracked his movements, unsure what to do or say. 

“The more you let me get away with, the more I want to try more and do more. Everyone else be damned. I’m not into feelings. But it’s clear that you need it to feel settled about this. I don’t know where this is going. But I know that I feel possessive already. You’ve been mine since you started and when I see you talking to another man, I want to kick his teeth in.” 

He got closer to you but didn’t close that final gap. You were close enough for his clean soap and airy scent to hit you. But far enough away that you’d have to lean to touch him. 

“I want to spoil you. I want to treasure you. I want to bend you like a pretzel and see if you break,” he said.

A laugh escaped you but there wasn’t a damn thing funny about the way he was looking at you. “You know how wild that sounds, right?” 

He smiled slowly and cocked his head. He was so deliciously sexy and being honest about his feelings was only turning you on more. The lingerie was a mistake. You were going to soak right through the little scrap of material and leave a puddle all over his nice, faux leather stools. 

“What I don’t know is how you feel. You’re either running away or trying to end this. But when you’re underneath me, I feel like you could feel something for me.” 

You bit your lip. Shit. You weren’t expecting honesty hour. Your throat turned parched and scratchy and you looked away from his face. 

“You scare me,” you said. You peeked at him and the only thing that changed was a raised eyebrow. 

“I don’t think you’ll hurt me in that way. I just feel like…this is what a well-adjusted adult looks like and that’s so not me. Like…you could have anyone you want. Why me?” You asked. You weren’t putting yourself down. You just knew you had to do a lot of work on yourself and no one was perfect.

“Why not you?” 

You giggled nervously. “Why me?” 

“Why not you?” 

Right. Stubborn to the point of obstinate. 

“I’m starting to think this is about control. Do you feel out of control with me?” 

You rubbed your forehead. “What are you, a therapist or something?” 

Tre smiled and rocked back on his heels. “I had an interesting childhood. I had to be an asshole to survive. My bull in a china shop routine isn’t going to get me anywhere with you. And if I haven’t made that clear, that is my goal.” 

“I never know what you’re feeling. Sex makes all the sense in the world. We’re both trying to get off. And you feel amazing. You know you do. But…me…” Was it about control? Did you hate that he made you unsettled, unmoored, and guessing for the first time in your life? 

You made it your mission to be prepared. To make up for your shortcomings. Your strength was in anticipating people’s needs and ensuring that you were as helpful as possible. To have someone like him trying to look after someone like you…it didn’t compute. He didn’t need anything. And you felt useless.

Tre waited patiently while you worked through your emotions. You hated that you couldn’t pluck them from your brain and explain it in a coherent way. 

“I’m scared that you’ll get bored with me. That this novelty will wear off and you’ll be fine while I’m jobless and embarrassed,” you admitted. There. You got that out.

Tre nodded. “I will not get bored with you. There is no novelty. I just want you,” he said calmly and plainly. 

“You say that now–”

“And I mean it now. I’ll mean it tomorrow and the day after that,” he said.

“You can’t make that promise,” you said. 

Tre smiled. Obstinate.

“What can I do to help you trust me?” He asked. He opened his hands. “I want to get to know you better.” 

“Patience. I need patience. You…consume. You take up the whole room when you’re in it. It doesn’t leave any room for thinking,” you said.

“Maybe you need to think less.” Tre walked back into the kitchen to check on the sauce. He turned off the stove and grabbed two bowls. He scooped pasta noodles into it and then ladled the sauce over it. 

He placed a bowl in front of you and on the place setting next to you. He fluffed salad in a bowl and then plated it on a smaller plate, placing it next to your bowl. He had different options for salad dressing so you pointed to your favorite one. He put some on your salad, some on his, and then he poured you some wine. 

 He rounded the kitchen and sat down next to you. He pointed for you to go first. The pasta both looked and smelled heavenly. Restaurant quality. You dug in, grabbing a big bite. You moaned around the taste.

“Good god, this is delicious,” you said. 

Tre smirked. “Been working on this sauce since last night,” he said.

“You knew you were going to invite me here last night?” You asked. 

“Beyond the forest,” he said. He dug into his own food. 

Conversation turned to lighter topics. He spoke briefly about that interesting childhood of his. He was rowdy, combative, getting into fights left and right. His estranged uncle stepped in, trying to be a father to him where his own wasn’t. Showed him how to “be a man”. 

It was beyond gender. It was how you carried yourself. How you spoke, how you dressed, how you interacted with others. If you were the biggest in the room, then it was your responsibility to protect those in the room. 

“That sounds impossible to live up to,” you said.

“Not when you really think about it. A man’s job is to protect those in his care. Cherish the people in his circle. To move with respect. It’s as easy as breathing,” Tre shrugged. “I know I’m an asshole but I’m not going to go out of my way to make someone else’s life miserable.”

“No, just mine.” You playfully rolled your eyes and Tre smirked. 

You told him about your family and how you always felt like you weren’t doing things right. You couldn’t compare to your siblings with amazing jobs and their heads on straight. The only thing in your life that made sense was school. 

After it, you just felt adrift. You flitted from one thing to the next, not knowing what you wanted to do with your life. It was dangerous to compare your life to others. But it felt like they knew exactly where they were headed. You on the other hand? You just wanted a fucking break. 

“You’re not doing anything wrong. Everybody is different,” Tre said.

“No, I know. I just…I don’t know what I want to do.”

“What gets you up in the morning?” 

“Money?” You giggled. When it came down to it, you wanted enough money to not have to agonize over your bank account week to week. To get money, you had to work for others. And you hated working for others. You hated being told what to do, what to wear, when to show up. 

“That’s a fair motivator. But what do you not mind doing for money?” He asked.

You shrugged. “There lies the rub,” you said. You finished up dinner, not able to eat another single bite. It had been one of the best dinners you had ever had. 

You and Tre moved over to the couch with your wine. You continued your conversation there, moving on to silly topics like video games and movies. You discussed the books you’ve read and he seemed genuinely interested in what you were saying.

This was a set up. He was seducing you. You eyed him over the rim of your wine glass as you listened to him speak about his favorite author. He had made no move to touch you. It was all you could think about. 

You shifted and placed one leg under you as you faced him. He copied your stance. You paid attention to his lips as he spoke. The way his voice played with sounds. You paid attention to his hands when he wanted to emphasize certain points. Hands that you had first hand knowledge could wring pleasure from you like wringing out a washcloth. 

“Are you okay?” Tre asked. 

“Huh?” You asked and blinked. The wine was making you feel airy and light. A light buzz. You felt good. Really good. And he was looking more good as you cataloged his movements.

Tre smiled. “I asked you if you wanted more wine,” he said.

“No, thank you.” The hell did he put in it? Because you were burning the fuck up. And you couldn’t stop thinking about his hands on you. His lips on yours. His dick sliding inside you. 

You scooted closer to him and placed your wine glass on the coffee table. He drained his glass and scooted closer as well, until you were breathing the same air. 

“Why haven’t you touched me?” You asked. The wine gave you a burst of boldness.

Tre smiled. “Do you want me to touch you?” 

“Why haven’t you?” 

“You can’t have it both ways. You either want patience or for me to steamroll ahead. I only work in absolutes,” he said.

You sighed. “Does that mean the sex stops?”

Tre chuckled. “Is that all I’m good for?” 

“Will you stop answering my questions with questions?” 

“Will you be honest with me?” Obstinate bastard. 

“I want you to fuck me!” You squealed. You bit your lip after but didn’t take it back. He couldn’t get you feening for his touch and then yank it away when it was convenient for him. 

Tre only watched you with an amused smile on his face. You wanted to smack it off of him. 

“Tell me what you really want,” he said. 

“I don’t want the sex to stop.” There, you said it. “I don’t want this to end. But you have to…let me adjust to it.” 

He kept looking at you. “Do you want me to say I want you? Is that it?” You asked.

“Do you?” 

You growled and Tre chuckled. “I want you,” you said. 

Tre ran a finger across your jaw. He lifted your chin and leaned down for a soft kiss. “Show me you want me.” 

You leaned back to look into his eyes. You should have known. Nothing about this man was easy.

You stood up and took the straps off your shoulders slowly. Tre adjusted his position to face forward as you moved to stand in front of him. You kept your eyes on his as you unzipped your dress and let it cascade down your body.

Tre hissed as he took in your lingerie set. “I buy that for you?” 

“You did,” you said with a smile. 

“Money well fuckin’ spent,” he said. 

You stepped out of your dress and picked it up. You placed it on the couch so it wouldn’t wrinkle too badly. Then, you slowly sank to your knees in front of him, rubbing on his legs. You rubbed on his thighs, getting higher and higher. His pants began to tent as you got closer to the waistband. He didn’t help you as you unbuttoned his pants. You gripped his hard dick and moved the tip across your lips.

Precum painted your lips and you licked your lips around the tip of him. He took a deep breath, jaw flexing. You stared into his eyes as you slowly swallowed him down. You struggled to completely get him in your mouth, but soon you were drooling on his dick.

Tre adjusted his hips, pulling his pants down a bit more as you began to suck him down. Your hands gripped the rest of him and you rubbed his shaft while paying attention to the head of his dick. You licked and played with the velvety soft head of him, flicking your tongue across the tip.

He hissed and jerked as he moaned. He moved his arms to the back of the couch, relaxing into the blow job. You watched as he threw his head back so all you saw was his luscious beard. You bobbed your head faster, the way you knew he liked. 

You were rewarded with his moans getting louder, deeper, with a rattle in his chest that had you clenching your thighs together. 

“I’m about to bust,” he moaned. 

You continued sucking him off, hollowing your cheeks. He tensed before he unloaded in your mouth. The salty musk of his cum splashed down your throat and you swallowed all of him down. You moaned and let him go with a wet pop. 

Tre blew out a breath as he rubbed his face. “Thank you,” he said. 

You smiled at him. His fingers traced the corners of your mouth where drool likely escaped you. You turned into a sex fiend where he was concerned. 

“Get up here,” he said. 

You stood up and moved to straddle his legs so you could finally get some dick. He shook his head, pointing towards the couch. He took off his glasses and put it on the coffee table. You laid down and Tre grabbed your ankle. He pushed it to the back of the couch, spreading you completely open for him. 

His hand found the chain around your thigh and his eyes briefly flared looking at the tiny “T” dangling from it. He wrapped his hand around it while he brought his face down against your pussy.

He licked you over the fabric and you moaned, gyrating your hips against his face. He licked the crease of the set, capturing part of your skin and you shivered in the warm room. 

“Please,” you whispered. 

“Please, what?” He asked. His breath fanned over your damp pussy and you shivered again. You needed relief right this second.

“Please, Sir,” you begged.

He used his free hand to move your panties to the side and finally bring his lips to your pussy. He moaned when he discovered how wet you were and how much he got to lick up. You were dripping with your essence, right onto his face and the couch. 

“Fuck,” you shuddered, the word shaky in your throat. 

“Mhm, get louder for me. Just me and you here,” he whispered against your pussy. And then he really went to town, digging his face so far into your pussy, you felt the way his jaw flexed. 

He was right. You were finally in an appropriate place to have sex. You could be as loud as you needed to be. You began to moan louder, encouraging him with a twist of your hips and roll of his tongue that he was eating you out exactly how you liked.

He paid more attention to your clit, sucking and slurping up your juices. You felt the burn in your thighs as you were nearing your peak. The tightening in your belly worsened until you were snapping your thighs together, screaming out your release. 

Tre was right there to feel you cum on his tongue. He hummed in satisfaction as you shook against his face. When you calmed down, when your back came back down to rest on the blue couch, he straightened up. He had your juices trailing down his beard and he wiped a hand down the lower half of his jaw. 

“Come on,” he said. He grabbed your hand and helped you sit up on the couch. Then, he headed towards the stairs.

The upstairs was just as well-decorated as the first floor. It was all a blur as he tugged you down the hall towards the master suite. You weren’t really surprised that his sheets and comforter were black. It suited him more so than the earthy tones throughout the rest of the house.

You moved to get on his bed, but he stopped you. He planted a wet kiss on your lips, taking his time to fully explore you. His hand wrapped around your throat, pulling you deeper into the kiss. The pressure on your neck made your eyes roll back in your head. 

“Wait here,” he said. He placed one last kiss on your lips before moving away. You watched as he went into the bathroom. 

You just came but it wasn’t enough. You wanted more. You wanted him. You wanted that dick between his legs to make you walk funny in the morning. Water turned on, sounded like the shower, and you wanted to walk in there to see what he was doing. 

He came out of the bathroom, taking off his shirt. You gasped softly. Fuck. He was beautiful. You openly ogled his body. Thick, rippling muscles. A sexy layer of bulk that you could bounce a quarter off of. 

He looked damn good in his suits. He looked damn good in casual wear. But shirtless? Your knees wobbled and you wondered if you were going to swoon. 

He approached you slowly, like a predator stalking a prey. His hands reached out to run across your lingerie that suddenly felt too tight. He began to unsnap, kissing the parts of you that he revealed. Inch upon inch of you was uncovered, covered in his kisses. 

He freed your breasts and rubbed sensation back into it. He plucked on your nipples and you moaned softly. “I need you to wear this again,” he said.

You giggled and turned in his arms so that you could face him. He bent down to suck one of your nipples into his mouth. 

“Did you turn the shower on?” You asked.

“Mhm,” he moaned against your nipple. 

You answered with a moan as well, biting your lip because it felt too damn good. “But…”

“I got a shower cap for you,” he said.

“There is no way I’m letting you fuck me with a shower cap on!” Oh god, how embarrassing.

“Do you think it would make you less sexy to me?” He straightened up and kissed you. “You are the sexiest creature I’ve ever laid eyes on. You could wear a sack and I’d want to fuck the coins out of you,” he continued.

You laughed, covering your mouth to keep from squawking like a chicken. Tre lowered your hands and looked into your eyes. 

“I’m in it. Are you?” 

Why couldn’t he make shit easy for once? You nodded. “I’m in it.” 

He pulled you to the bathroom, leaving your lingerie on the floor. His bathroom was gorgeous. The floors were cream tile with big squares. He had plenty of rugs inside so you weren’t stepping on the cold floor for too long. He had a walk-in shower with clear glass doors. The sink was at a comfort height, two sinks, with soft gray towels hanging from a bar.

He had a long cabinet that stretched nearly to the ceiling and you longed to rub your hands over it. You only dreamed of bathrooms like these. You didn’t think they actually existed outside of supremely rich houses where they were wasted on people with no appreciation. 

Steam filled the room, frosting over the glass doors and mirrors. Tre dropped his pants to the floor, picked them up, and threw them into a hamper you hadn’t seen. He handed you a shower cap. 

You took a deep breath and put it on, tucking your hair inside. Welp, here you were in all your crazy glory. 

He didn’t see you any differently. He pulled you in for a soft, tender kiss and then opened the shower door. You stepped inside and the warm water hit your back and you sighed. You usually liked it way hotter than this.

The devil himself needed to come out and lick your back in order for you to feel comfortable in a shower, but the point wasn’t to get clean at the moment. It was to get dirty.

You leaned forward, palming his dick and running your hands along his length. Tre moaned low in his throat before gripping your hips and pushing you against the wall of the shower. Your back hit the cold tile but you were saved by his warm, strong hands as they rubbed your back. 

He rubbed his dick, getting slick from the water. He began to kiss you and you wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders. The shower cap crinkled and you had a brief stab of embarrassment. 

It quickly dissipated as Tre lifted you up. You squealed, wrapping your legs around his hips. He grinned evilly while you clung to him for dear life. He was doing a whole lot in this slippery ass shower. 

Panic and arousal drove your nerves through the roof. You took deep breaths, trying to focus on the water on your side. 

“I got you,” he said. He pushed your back against the wall and spread your legs to accommodate his hips. He shifted as his dick found your entrance. With the water and your arousal, he was able to slide in easily.

You groaned, your jaw dropping open. “Never get sick of that,” he said. 

He placed one hand on the wall behind you to brace himself. Then, he set to work thrusting into your wet heat. He groaned as he started to slide easier due to fresh arousal leaking out of you. 

“Oh fuck,” you moaned. 

“Mhm, feelin’ so good on this dick,” he groaned. 

Your thighs shook as he thrust into you slow and deep. He set a relaxed pace, making sure to get as deep as possible on every stroke. You felt every inch of him. Every last smooth glide of his mushroom head against your inner walls. 

Your hands gripped his smooth, deep onyx skin. Water droplets hit his head, beard, and arms. You gripped the back of his neck and held on as he grunted and hit you deep enough to bruise. You cried out, cumming immediately on his dick. 

“Fuck, let me feel it,” he said. He stopped moving as you convulsed on his dick, unable to form a sentence or thought. You squeezed the hell out of him, feeling incredibly full. 

“You can give me another,” he said.

“I can’t,” you moaned.

“Yes, you can. You can give me another before I bust all in this pretty pussy,” he moaned. 

“S-Sir!” You whined. You didn’t have another one in you. It was impossible. Your lips sloppily found his as his tongue mimicked what his dick was doing. Both speared inside of you and you moaned, thighs shaking, toes curling. 

He grunted and moaned in your ear, whispering filthy things. “Come on, I know you can do it. I know you got another one. I know you want to cum all over this dick again. You know you want me to feel how good I tear this shit up.” 

You cried, a wailing keen that sounded loud. It was amplified in the shower due to the tile. You sounded needy. You sounded desperate. 

“Give me another one. Let that pussy go,” he cooed.

“Sir, Sir, Sir,” you chanted. Somehow, that dick was able to pull another one out of you. You screamed as you came, growing deaf in one ear. A high, tinny ringing pierced your ear as you came once more on his dick.

He moaned and kissed your ear. “That’s it. Don’t that feel better? You did so good. So good lettin’ me feel that pussy creamin’ on this dick,” he moaned.

“Sheeit,” you moaned. 

Tre sighed and screamed out his climax, pumping you with thick spurts of cum. You shook and twitched as you felt him pulsing inside of you. He slipped out, letting you down to stand on wobbly legs.

He lifted your leg so he could watch himself slip out of you. “Sheit,” you moaned as you felt his cum leaking out.

Tre used his fingers to fuck some of it back inside you. You squealed and twitched. Your clit was entirely too sensitive. “I can’t,” you cried.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry,” he said. Not sounding the least bit sorry. 

Who the hell was this man? You couldn’t figure him out. He cooked you dinner, ate you out, and delivered orgasms like some full service sex god. He unnerved you. He was an enigma. It was driving you crazy trying to puzzle him out.

Tre smirked as he grabbed a washcloth, soaped it up, and began to wash your body. His soap that you loved so much smelled even better up close and personal. He helped you flip over so he could get your back and ass. He was careful to clean your pussy, running the cloth back and forth over your clit.

You whined and shook as he did so and he planted kisses all over your face, enjoying your torment. Asshole. He helped rinse you off and then he stood under the shower. He grabbed a fresh washcloth and cleaned himself off. 

You grew sleepy watching him soap up that sexy body of his. He watched you, smirking and throwing winks your way as he lowered the cloth to his dick. You watched with rapt attention. 

You only wished you could suck him back down and make him scream and squirm like he had you doing. He rinsed off and then turned off the water. He left the shower first, grabbing thick, buttery towels. He wrapped one around his waist and then helped you out of the shower. 

He wrapped the towel around your body and helped you to the room. He dried you off completely. He made sure every last droplet was wiped from you and then removed the shower crap. He fixed a few fly away hairs.

“Sexy,” he murmured. 

You could only stare at him. You were out of your depth once more. Unable to sort through your emotions and give this a name. He leaned down for a kiss. His wet beard tickled your chin. 

He lowered you into the bed and dried the rest of his body off. He peeled back the covers and let you slide in. You sighed. You felt so warm and comfortable. Tre slid in behind you, pulling your waist into his hips. His dick settled into the crook of your ass and he nuzzled into your neck.

“Night, beautiful.”

Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 - Completed