The tumblr speaks for itself...catch a glimpse of me and how I think about things in today's society. || 40, Gemini, Queer, 18+ Only, Minors/Minor Supporters will be blocked. Have a nice day!
they cloned Tyrone request: can you do a follow-up to have mercy? How does the reader do in the morning and what does Tyrone feel about the reader? Does he like her, is she a close friend with benefits or is this a one time thing? I kinda picture then being obsessed with each other after this
A/N: Y'know, I kinda pictured that too.
Have Mercy, Part 2
Pairing: Pornstar!Tyrone x Black!Shy!Fem!reader / 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), cum play, possession kink, size kink, dirty talk, degradation/praise kink, Daddy kink, orgasm denial, overstimulation, all consensual. Use of n-word. Disrespectful Tyrone. Drug use. Established friendship.
Summary: You woke up intent on getting the hell away from Tyrone before he realized just how down bad you were. However, Tyrone had other plans.
Word Count: 2,482k
Part 1
A/N: I'm a little rusty so forgive my errors. A special shout out to my besties for helping me through my dark period. An extra special shout out to @twocentuar for the sweet comment that pushed me to get back in the booth. And none of this would be possible without my number one fan. I blocked you bby, but this would've made you proud! Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment or reblog.
You came to a short while later and blinked against the soft lighting. Snores drew your attention down towards Tyrone who was half on top of you. He made a cage that was near impossible to escape from.
But you had to. Because he couldn’t see just how much he rocked your world. You had to run. He fucked you right to sleep. And you didn’t know what to do with that information. You reached nirvana between tears and wracking tremors but Tyrone had been the embodiment of demon time.
And you loved it. Craved it. You’d finally gotten a taste and you were instantly hooked. Your curiosity definitely got you killed and the only thing you could think of was to flee. To be wherever he wasn’t.
You carefully climbed out of his bed, picking your way out from underneath his heavy, warm embrace. He snored and shifted in bed. You paused, heart hammering in your chest. But he didn’t make any other move.
You breathed a sigh of relief and then slid across his dark sheets. Your feet touched the ground before the rest of your body followed and you huffed from all of the extra rolling around.
You liked a good tumble, but that was as far as your athletic endeavours went. He must’ve climbed in right after you. Next to his bed, he had a small curved desk with a desktop computer. Notebooks, balled up pieces of paper, pennies, and his camera lay on the table and you had the urge to snatch your tape.
But…no. You weren’t ashamed of it. You believed Tyrone when he said that he wouldn’t show it to anyone else. You’d been neighbors more than half your life. It had just been a coincidence that you stumbled onto his porn channel. And well, you never left.
You searched the floor for your shorts and your shirt, your bra, and your panties. Your toe ran into the post of his bed and you groaned quietly, hopping in place. You hopped one too many times or must’ve made another sound because Tyrone rolled over in bed.
His eyes half opened but he only adorably sniffed in his sleep. He swatted at his face like something bugged his nose and then settled onto his back. You didn’t dare move until he took a deep breath and snored.
Whew. You tip toed towards the door, body inching to get away. You stopped near the door to calm your racing nerves when you heard the bed squeak.
Your head turned just as Tyrone sat up in bed. He got up lazily, like he had all the time in the world. You locked eyes with him, though you had a hard time looking away from that beautiful dick as it thickened with each passing second.
Your mouth went dry just at the thought of what all he did to you with that thing. Tyrone earned every piece of coin he earned from his videos.
“Who said I was done with you?” Tyrone asked.
You shrieked just as your pussy clenched with painful need. You were still sore from the earlier session. There was no way that you could survive more tonight. You held your clothes over your body and bit your lip. Welp. You were definitely caught with your ass out.
“Ah,” you said but stopped short.
“Can’t even think of a lie, can you?” He asked and then laughed. He got out of the bed, taking long strides towards you. He snatched your clothes out of your hands and tossed them across the room.
A loud clang made you flinch but you didn’t dare look away from Tyrone’s face. Fury danced behind his wicked brown eyes and you shivered at all of the dark, nasty thoughts likely dancing across his thoughts. Yours only echoed his, your belly quaking with the memory of how deep he got.
“I thought you didn’t really fuck the same girl twice?” At Tyrone’s lifted eyebrow you quickly added, “Like from what you told me earlier.”
Tyrone reached out and grabbed your throat. “You think you just any ole girl?” He asked. He was so close, his breath faintly smelled like weed. It only made your clit dance. Your buzz was still there, a little fuzzy, but enough to keep you good and relaxed.
You shook your head. “Use that sexy ass voice,” he commanded.
“No, I just thought...like if you wanted an out…”
Tyrone smirked. He moved his hand up your neck so that he could cup your jaw. His thumb traced your bottom lip and he couldn’t resist planting a kiss. His eyes darkened and he growled low, in the back of his throat.
“I ain’t ask for an out. Your safeword is ginger,” he said, his voice rumbling with dark retribution.
Your eyes widened as he grabbed your wrist and tugged you towards the bed. He pushed you down and turned you over onto your stomach. You tried to move but Tyrone barked at you to stay still.
He left you in that position while he did something behind you. Every time he crossed the room, you felt a whoosh of air against your aching pussy and you felt like you were going to burst from anticipation. You had no idea what he was doing but he needed to be done quick.
Tyrone put his laptop down in front of you. “What are you doing, Ty?” You asked. He was starting to worry you.
He clicked through his computer until he accessed his video player. He plugged in his camera and then hit play.
Your eyes bugged out as Tyrone played back your sex tape. “Oh my god!” You stuttered. You didn’t know if you wanted to scoff or laugh, but the combo of the two escaped your lips. Was he serious?
“Smile for Daddy,” Tyrone’s voice said over the tape.
“Oh my god,” you groaned. You looked behind you at Tyrone who stroked his dick while he looked at your ass.
“Safe word?” He asked.
“Ginger,” you whimpered.
You heard Tyrone slap your ass before the sting burned against your asscheek. You gasped but the burn soon bloomed, radiating heat throughout your body. Your pussy clenched as it turned pleasurable in your mind.
“Fuck,” Tyrone groaned. He smacked your ass a few times, never hitting the same spot twice. “I’m recording this one too.”
Your thighs shook as your ass burned with his spanking. It felt so fucking good, you felt like you were going to cum on the spot.
“Fuck, look at that pretty fuckin’ pussy,” his voice said on the recording.
“Mhhm,” Tyrone agreed with himself as he admired your pussy now. You wiggled your ass and he delivered a few more smacks.
He spread your asscheeks to survey his handiwork. You were sure you were dripping but with him examining you like this, spread open, on camera, had you soaking the bed with desire.
“Been waiting to get in this pussy,” he said.
“What?” You screeched.
“What, you think I wasn’t imagining all the nasty shit I wanted to do this?” He groaned as he watched your arousal drip from you. You were wanton, overcome with the need to rut and be fucked. To be fucked by him specifically.
“Oh fuck, Tyrone!” You yelled on the tape. You clenched around Tyrone’s fingers and he chuckled darkly.
“You like the way you sound? Begging for this dick?” He asked.
“Mhhmm,” you moaned. Your eyes couldn’t leave the screen. Tyrone must’ve had a magic camera because you’d never felt sexier. You were just in the moment, watched as your face twisted and you bit your lip to stave off the pleasure.
Tyrone smacked your ass and you moaned from the pain. “Use your words,” he growled.
“I can’t,” you said.
Tyrone grabbed your hips and widened your legs. He used his free hand to gather up some of your essence on his thumb. He circled your anus, pushing his thumb inside. You moaned, drool escaping your lips. Tyrone increased his strokes with his other hand, fingers deep inside. “Shit, shit, shit,” you moaned.
“Did you know you taste good?” Tyrone’s voice on the tape kept going.
“Please, Ty, I can’t,” you said. You fell forward onto your face, no longer able to hold yourself up. Not while he was playing you like a well tuned instrument. Like he knew which strings to stroke to produce the perfect sound. Your fingers dug into the dark sheets, pulling them towards you like that would help.
You moaned in time with yourself on the tape. Your pussy clenched the closer you got to your orgasm but Tyrone slowed his fingers. “Wait, nooooo,” you moaned, trying to wiggle your ass to move yourself on his fingers.
Tyrone withdrew completely and then flipped you onto your back. He slid between your thighs, pinning your wrists to the mattress.
“Oh now you can speak,” Tyrone said, lifting an eyebrow at you. His rich, dark skin was so smooth. His stubble drove you insane. His eyes were feral as he looked down at you.
“Please, no more,” you pleaded.
“You know what to say to get me to stop,” he said.
You whined and shook your thigh. Tempted, oh so tempted, but this was everything you had ever wanted. How many fantasies had you cum to, listening to his filthy words in his videos?
“Please let me cum,” you whimpered.
Tyrone smirked and leaned down to kiss you, his tongue pushing in to tangle with yours. You made out like you were dying of thirst. Like he wasn’t close enough.
“Let Daddy hear you,” Tyrone said on camera.
You giggled. “Please, please, Ty. Please, I wanna cum again,” you said.
Tyrone leaned up and grabbed his dick. He lined himself up and then slid inside. You hissed as your still sore pussy welcomed him in, but fuck you felt like you were floating.
Tyrone moaned when he slid all the way down to the hilt. He paused for a moment, wiggling his hips back and forth. He found a good rhythm, not too fast, but not too slow either. He moved his hand to your neck and applied pressure.
“This my fuckin’ pussy now,” he growled.
“Yes, Daddy,” you moaned, nodding for good measure. You didn’t know where he had the camera focused now, but you could hear yourself cumming on camera. Your eyes rolled in the back of your head as you came to the sound and from Tyrone’s long dick filling every inch of you.
You felt the veins in his dick on every slide. The ridges stroked against your inner walls and you moaned and cursed. “Shit, shit,” you cried out.
Tyrone increased his strokes, pounding into you. “Fuck, I need to fill this pussy up,” Tyrone groaned.
“I can’t no more,” you cried.
Tyrone leaned down, lifting the pressure from your neck for a beat. “But you already are. So you can,” he whispered. He never slowed, never stopped pounding like he wanted to lay a stake in your womb.
“Look at yo pretty ass” he groaned.
You grabbed onto his arm as it tightened around your throat once more. Tyrone leaned forward so that his sweaty chest rubbed against your nipples. His light smattering of chest hair rubbed against your oversensitive skin.
You were beyond words. You could only hold on as Tyrone fucked you silly. You stared at him, locked eye to eye, while he ruined your pussy for all others. No one else would ever compare. No one else could bring you to the edge over and over, all in one night.
You’d lost track of how many orgasms he hand delivered and was intent on delivering more.
You slapped against his arm as you felt another orgasm coming. Your lower belly tensed and tensed like a cobra ready to strike. Two more strokes and you came undone on his dick, soaking him with a fresh wave of essence.
The smell of your filthy sex filled the room. Combined with the moans and dangerous words pouring from the tape, it was enough to throw you in a long, continuous orgasm that felt like it was never going to end.
You didn’t have time to be scared. Didn’t have time to prepare. Tyrone continued fucking you, following close behind. He grunted as his cum filled you up again. You felt so full. More than you ever thought possible.
“There’s my good little, bitch,” he cooed.
You sighed in relief. You made it. You took everything he gave out. You slumped against the bed and Tyrone kissed both of your cheeks. He kissed his way to your ear and licked the lobe. “But you gon’ learn to listen to me,” he growled in your ear. Just for your benefit.
You groaned. No more. Stick a fork in you two times, you were dead. But you were a simple glutton for punishment.
“Can get a nigga used to this. You cum so pretty,” Tyrone’s voice called out from the tape. Tyrone flipped you over just in time to catch the tears slipping down your face on screen.
Tyrone slipped back inside like he belonged there. He gripped your hips and pounded away once more, fingers digging in for purchase.
“You know I’m cummin’ in this shit, right?” Tyrone groaned on camera.
You clenched around Tyrone’s dick and he chuckled. “Who knew I had the perfect cum dumpster living next door all this time?” Tyrone groaned.
The tip of his dick kissed your G-spot and you exploded around him, crying out into the room with every last breath inside you. Tyrone came immediately after, filling you to the brim once more.
He bent over you, the cold bite of his sweaty skin made you flinch. But he dropped a few kisses to your shoulder blades, your back, your neck. He massaged your ass while he softened and gently pulled out.
You cried, too sore to do much else. Tyrone cooed at you. He disappeared and you must’ve passed out because soon, he shook you awake.
He picked you up and carried you to the bathroom where he ran a hot, bubble bath. He lowered you in and then slipped in behind you. He held you close while he gently wiped you down, pushing the wash cloth between your legs to clean up after himself.
You were too pliant and fucked out to do anything but hum. “How will I ever wake up from this?” You asked, fingers tracing the hollow of his throat.
Tyrone kissed your cheek. “Ain’t no waking up from this,” Tyrone said. “This is my pussy now,” he said. He kissed your cheek and bid you to sleep.
“Maybe I need to tie yo rabbit ass down,” or whatever he said while you drifted off to blissful, restful sleep.
Thanks for reading! Read where it began: Part 1 | The Secret Tyrone Files
I had to reread the first part...for research purposes.
I forgot how absolutely nasty that man was. But to continue while watching our tape...yeah, he officially owns this shit. She no belong to me anymore. WHEW!!!
I'm 40 today. That's so crazy to me that I have been alive for 4 decades. And trust I have seen a lot during my time here.
10 years ago, I was learning how to walk again. 5 years ago, I decided to go back to school and earn my Masters degree and flipped my whole career. I'm healing, thriving and finally living life on my terms.
Please don't let anyone tell you that you need to do something by a certain age. Your life is already written, you chose it before you got here, and you will do everything you are meant to do when it is time and you are ready. Don't sell yourself short. What is meant for you will find you, ALWAYS!
*BTW, I'm at the LA Sparks game tonight, continuing a new birthday tradition to watch my team play on my birthday.*
Some after "Sinners" reading material if you're interested in Black American and Indigenous History (and the immigrants who came over, too). I put in the Jones-Rogers book too so y'all won't think the 58% had no serious role in shaping the horrors of America.
One thing about me, I don’t play about Annie and Smoke’s relationship. NOTHING, screamed mammy about Wunmi’s sexy ass and I don’t like how some people have been stating that. What Smoke and Annie have is metaphysical. Their love transcends time and space so spare me with that bullshit. What y’all saw on the screen was grown, true,and pure. Don’t get it twisted.
Characters: Elijah Smoke and Elias Smoke (aka Smoke and Stack in the Michael B. Jordan movie "Sinners") Lena Blackwell (OC).
Warning(s): Mentions of Hoodoo, Explicit Sex, Supernatural Elements, Romance, Some Violence, Polyamory, and Angst. Pre-Sinners movie.
Summary: Lena Blackwell works in an illegal after-hours Black & Tan club in Bronzeville where she seduces twin brothers Smoke and Stack. Each brother has qualities she likes and she embarks on an illicit affair with both. All is well until one of the twins starts catching feelings.
Author's Note:
The rest of this will go up late Sunday night. It is Pre-Sinners movie so nothing is spoiled. (I haven't seen the movie yet anyway!)
"Empty his pockets (see-line)
And wreck his days (see-line)
Make him love her (see-line)
And she'll fly away (see-line)"
Nina Simone – "See-Line Woman"
She fucked them both.
Smoke and Stack.
Seducing the twin brothers was easy, but confusing at the start.
She met Stack first. The gold in his teeth gleamed in the light of the Sunset Café, one of the most popular Black and Tan clubs in the Bronzeville section of Chicago. Lena Blackwell worked behind the bar instead of the floor, where jam packed circular tables faced an at capacity dance floor moving to the sounds of the latest jazz band snazzed up in tuxedos.
Although the Sunset Café advertised itself as a supper club and a popular music venue, people along the stroll knew it was a higher class speakeasy. Unlike other clandestine establishments with secret code words whispered to get in and concealed entrances to deceive law enforcement and politicians, the Sunset owners paid off low-salaried policeman to look away. Their mob ties kept money in the right pockets to warn of raids and shakedowns from other gangsters. People wanted liquor and any other spirits they could get their hands on in a city that was supposed to be as dry as the Sahara.
Stack slithered over to the far end of the long polished mahogany table with a toothpick wedged between his gums. For over twenty minutes, he rapped to her while she tried to keep the prohibited drinks flowing.
"You should come work for me," he said, sizing her up with blatant lust in his bold brown eyes.
"I'm not a whore for you to put on the stroll, mister. Order another drink or leave me be."
He gave her a crooked grin with his sexy lips, then admired her perfectly coiffed hairdo styled with pin curls and slathered in Sweet Honey Brown pomade. Lena cut him to the quick.
"I know a pimp when I see one," she snapped, mixing drinks for one of the female servers.
"I ain't mean it like that baby. This is a legit business proposition. I'ma go back home and open a juke. I need a talented drink mixer such as yoself."
His delta accent was raspy and thick like overcooked grits. He was one of them sorry souls who migrated from the dirty south. She wondered if his feelings got hurt when he discovered the north was no different than the low down red necks he ran away from.
"Mmm hmm," she said, rolling her eyes.
"I'm serious. Think about it. Lemme have some cold water," he said.
Lena reached down into a false shelf and poured Stack some high grade illegal moonshine. She slid the glass to him and he guzzled it down.
"Stack!"
Lena tilted her head to see the caller.
Well, damn.
The head of the Bronzeville syndicate gestured toward Stack. Ernie Miller, the Black godfather of the south side, was wide in the gut and built low to the ground like a bulldog. A dangerous cat, who carried a switchblade known to cut throats on a whim.
Stack slid a fat wad of cash out of his pocket and laid a crisp twenty on the counter.
"Keep the change for your tip," he said, winking at her.
The change from his tab would cover her rent for two months.
He stuffed the rest of his money in his pocket where a shiny set of brass knuckles dangled and left the bar to join Ernie. For the first time, Lena took notice of Stack's finely tailored brown suit and the sharp creases in his pants. He had syndicate connections. A gangster. And a good tipper. She watched him enter a secret door in the back and never saw him again that night.
Two days later, as she started work at the bar, she spotted Stack nursing a drink at the far end, listening to an older barfly chat away to him. He drained the last of what was in his glass and Lena offered him some cold water.
Stack looked at her in confusion and shook his head in the negative.
She worked her shift, expecting Stack to hit on her at the bar again, like most men did.
He didn't.
"Cat got your tongue tonight, mister?" she teased, wiping down a spill near his arm from another patron.
He stared at her and then turned away to watch chorus girls tear up the Black Bottom dance in short dresses. Maybe she'd been too curt for him last time, and he took the hint. Ironically, that made her take a sudden interest.
He was tall, fine-looking, and a sharp dresser. She wondered if he smelled as good as he looked. Her eyes stayed on him until he wandered off to take an empty seat next to Ernie in a far left corner with some other broad-shouldered men.
"What was he drinking?" she asked another bartender.
Max, a reed-thin high yella man with a nasally voice, glanced at her.
"A South Side and the last glass was some Smoke."
"Eww, he likes that Smoke shit? That could kill him," she said, crinkling her nose.
"Them ex soldiers like that cloudy fuel alcohol."
"How you know he's an ex soldier?"
Max held out his hand and wiggled it.
"His hands. They shake a little bit. Lotta them war boys came back messed up."
Lena couldn't imagine the jovial man she met the other night acting shell-shocked. She reached under the bar and grabbed some gin. Adding some lime, sugar, and a bit of mint, she made a fresh glass of South Side.
"I'll be right back," she said.
Her heels click-clacked on the floor and she passed several raucous tables enjoying the floor show. Ernie had stepped away to talk to some people two tables over. She placed the South Side in front of the ex soldier.
"Thought you might enjoy this better than that rot got you were drinking earlier," she said.
He glanced down at the drink and a slow smile raised the corners of his lips. No gold on his teeth. She studied his features, his hair, and the large build of his body. This had to be the same man.
"What they call you around here?" she asked.
"Smoke."
"Not Stack?"
He showed more teeth and some dimples.
"No. Just Smoke."
He had a twinkle in his eye and he chuckled softly.
"Where you from?" she asked.
"Mississippi."
"You really opening a juke down there?"
He squinted at her, but before he could answer, Ernie returned.
"Let's go," Ernie said, grabbing his coat.
The soldier stood and brushed against her. She looked up into his eyes and shivered. He reached down for the drink she prepared for him and sipped it down in front of her.
"Thank you," he said, handing the glass back to her.
She clasped it with both hands, feeling woozy by the scent of his cologne. He grabbed his suit coat, and she glimpsed the gun in a holster strapped to him.
"Excuse me," he said, his voice soft like cotton.
Lena stepped aside and touched her forehead. The man had her breaking out in a sweat.
Two more men caught up to them near the bar and that's when she gasped, seeing double. The man who called himself Smoke greeted his twin brother Stack. Lena returned to her post and Stack peeled back his lips, showing her gold in his mouth. She ended up grinning, and he leaned an elbow on the bar.
"You look even more beautiful when you smile," Stack said.
Staring at them both, she could tell they were physically identical, but the personalities, their auras…so opposite.
One thing was for sure, seeing them together…she was smitten.
And she wanted them both.
Author's Extra Note:
The rest soon come!
Please support the writers in this new "Sinners" fandom. Reblog, Comment, Like, all that good shit. Black content often gets overlooked and there are too many good writers creating amazing work out here. Thank you for reading and get ready for the rest!
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