#apollo creed

i first seen this done by @strangerexee !

you and donnie were at the gym like any other day but, you were planning on trying this trend you seen on tiktok.you set everything up now you were just waiting on him.

when you seen him walking over, you pressed record.

you smiled “hey” as he leaned down kissing you. he pulled back and you got a good look at his sweaty face, “aw baby” you quickly wiped his face before the sweat reached his eyes.

you knew how you were gonna start the video now.

“y’all remember how i said my current boyfriend a boxer? them w-“ his face turned sour real quick “hold on—current boyfriend?” and you just sighed in faux irritation “hold on donnie, anyway—he be acting permanent sometimes y’all, excuse him” you weren’t through talking when adonis spoke up “‘acting permanent’ i am permanent, forever” he said that last part looking at the camera.

you fought back a laugh.

“for the moment” you corrected glancing away from donnie. his expression was confused, hurt, and irritated “yo—find something safe to do, [𝜗𝜚]” and you stayed staring at the ground as the man towering over you, stared at you.

the man reached for his water bottle taking a sip before speaking “if i said ‘lil groupie’” “but i’m not a groupie” “and i’m not your ‘current’ boyfriend” with a shrug. “that ain’t what you call me when i’m in it an-“ your eyes widened and you reached for the phone quickly “aright bye yall!” ahead of you stopping the recording.

definitely couldn’t post that.

🏷️’s; @tnychellee , @heartgirllover

He’s got his flaws like… punchin’ people if they breathe the wrong way, BUT, I OBJECT!

He’s incredibly attentive and isn’t afraid to go head first into situations that may be dauntin’ otherwise for someone who’s in his position (havin’ experienced loss early on, abandonment and the foster system).

Like it’s not lost on me how he immediately takes his chances with Bianca, a pretty woman who played her music too loud (not purposefully), and he acknowledged her beauty, askin’ her to come chill sometime.

My man’s literally JUST packed his bags, moved into an empty apartment and to a city he hardly knows anything about other than his pops and his “unc” soooo.

I believe he’s quite courageous.

My main point though is he’s so soft and sweet on Bianca, that you definitely wouldn’t have expected as much since he’s entirely impulsive, aggressive and arrogant usually in other matters.

Though smart, calculated and persistent, patient (well… a little lmaooo)—while he’s hard headed—he waited for Rocky to decide whether he would train him!

Ignore the fact he can be short-tempered, WE MUST STAY FOCUSED!

To me? he’s such a well layered character Ryan Coogler did a phenomenal job creatin’!

Shows the duality of man.

How you can be tough and soft all at once.

It’s the tenderness in how he stares at her

Or how he isn’t afraid of showin’ how he feels, pickin’ her up and bein’ playful immediately after a serious conversation

The way he doesn’t hesitate to share earbuds with her

HE LITERALLY DETANGLED HER BRAIDS LIKE COME ON BRO!!!!!

Ryan Coogler makes films for the realest of the real and if that ain’t you? Keep it pushin’!

Tamara Jackson x Adonis Creed.

Prologue

wc: 2,351

content tags: the word bitch is used in a derogatory manner toward OC, but not by Adonis and it’s brief. fights, blood mentioned, fluff, mentions of religious trauma, and an abusive home life, etc.

authors note: I know I said this was a self-insert fic, but, I kinda wanna be attached to the story some more and turned it into an OC x Adonis sorta ordeal. PLEASE DON'T HATE ME! AHHHHHH.

Tamara’s 23 and Adonis is 25 in the story, sue me! I’ll post a character sheet for her later!

Not necessarily proof read, I’m sorry if it’s crappy, I tried and I needed to show their backstory.

link to the official playlist for them.

1 year before the night.

“Where you from?” Adonis asked, having never heard the twang or slow annunciated string of words that left the bossy girl’s mouth.

“Rural town in Georgia. Why?”

“You talk funny, what the hell did you even call me five seconds ago?”

“I ain’t call you nothin’! I said you shouldn’t go throwin’ basketballs at people’s backs to get their attention! They might turn an’ shank you or somethin’.”

“Shank me? Little girl, do you even know whatta shank is?”

“First of all, I ain’t little, in fact, imma whole inch taller than you!” Tamara pushed herself off her knees from the soppy grass, mire painting the white of her sneakers and she extruded a finger in his comically befuddled face.

“Umm.. yeah, a’ight. What’s your name then?”

“Tamara Jackson. Don’t wear it out.”

“Right,” Adonis fixed his stance, his brow raised as he extended his hand, gathering she may appreciate the gesture considering her hospitality weren’t all that rough ‘til he went pushing her buttons. “You can call me Donnie, and I think you might need some schoolin’ on the lingo here. So, you trynna be friends now or what?”

“Okay. Donnie.” Shaking his hand, she squinted at him, nostrils flared then her upper lip curled when another boy appeared from god knows where, arm tossed over Adonis’ shoulder and began rough housing with him.

The lighthearted exchange left Tamara’s hand mid-air absent of ardor, her dark brown eyes watchful of their rowdy display of affection.

Although, Adonis eventually told Dame to introduce himself, to which he said a smartass, “this your little girlfriend, D? Thought we was focusin’ on boxin’, huh?”

and the rest was history movin’ forward.

A year later.

Today hadn’t been Tamara’s day.

She’d gotten into a fight with her mother, her father wouldn’t stop hammerin’ that her lack of faith in the lord would eventually bite her in the ass, so much so he drove her to the point of tears and her grades were slippin’.

No matter how hard she tried, the conclusion she circled back to every time, were she disappointed those she loved most. And if there were one thing she despised, it were imperfections she wore like bullet shells to battle armor.

Having gotten fed up, she did what she knew best and stormed off into the night, ignoring the condescending call of her sister’s voice behind her.

Which lead her here, the basketball court a walking distance away from her favorite drive-in theater, snotty nosed, flushed undereyes and slender fingers hugging the metal fence she used to ground herself back into reality-not that she wanted to participate, she hardly could-a sharp exhale cut short at the sudden tap on her shoulder.

Pivoting on her heel, her sneakers scuffed against wet asphalt, the scent of mildew and fresh pine striking her in the same manner Adonis boxed, the combination a result of the drizzling rain and Adonis who wore an obnoxious amount of men’s cologne she figured he did to impress his recent crush. The reminder enthused an involuntary scrunch of her nose, makin’ it seem she were displeased to see him instead of internally wagin’ territorial warfare on the girl she hadn’t even met yet.

Adonis stood there perplexed, wavin’ his free hand a couple times in front of her face, the muddy basketball that were kicked aside to by her thirty minutes ago tucked under his right arm.

One of his thick brows arched, finally snappin’ his fingers close to her ear, before his voice slithered past the openin’ he demanded, “hey, I’ve been callin’ your name for five minutes? What’s goin’ on?” He started, expecting to be met with their usual banter, but paused once Tamara revealed her emotional distress to him.

Without second thought, the basketball were dropped, rolling elsewhere as he instead clutched Tamara’s shoulders, brows knitted, and expression hardened, “T? Seriously, what happened? Pops isn’t puttin’ hands on you again or anything? Is it your ma?”

The gentle firm melodic nature of Adonis’ questions eased the tension in her shoulders he held, her throat bobbin’ as she swallowed down the lump that threatened to surface any time someone asked her what was wrong while she were already crying.

But, Adonis never judged Tamara’s tears, in fact, he suggested they were her biggest strength.

Anytime she wept, he swept the stains off the blemished surface of her cheeks.

Shaking her head, she licked the cracks in her lips, lashes fluttering for a few seconds until she finally gained the courage to answer.

“Where’s Dame?” Tamara deflected, not the most comfortable bein’ vulnerable whenever the older of the two were around.

However, she assumed Adonis mistook her inquiry, his jaw tight and he scoffed.

“Don’t worry ‘bout him, what’s going on with you.”

With a soft nod, she actually answered this time.

“I’m failin’ two of my classes.”

“What? So? You’re smart T, you’ll fix ‘em in no time. Why’s that got you bummed out?”

“My-” of course she couldn’t explain further, her day turning into a full on dumpster fire when three boys rounded the gated corner, approaching the two of them, the atmosphere reeking of trouble with each step taken their direction.

Sixty seconds passed of the group surveying the scene, until the tallest of them decided to shove Adonis by the shoulder, the impact carrying the assurance they owned the area, making Tamara and Adonis trespassers of marked territory.

“Get off the court, this ain’t no place for bitches.” The tallest with a rolex said.

If possible, Tamara could’ve sworn she saw Adonis’ head swivel faster than someone with road rage when the car in front of them purposely hit their break too soon, and his nostrils flared, one hand dropped near his side, already bawled into a fist.

Oh no. No no no no.

Already aware of the outcome if they gave the group an opportunity for a potential squabble, Tamara clasped her palm over Adonis’ wrist, responding before he could think to act on his natural instincts.

“Who you callin’ a bitch?” She sneered, trying to step in front of Adonis to prove she hadn’t felt threatened except Adonis side stepped, an overprotective arm nudging her back. So she held her chin high and burned holes into her target around the shield she atained, dark brown eyes squinted full of fire willin’ to chase anything flammable in its path, “You talk to your mother with that mouth?”

“What’s it to you… bitch?” The tallest grinned, arm perched on his shorter peers shoulder. “Who she think she is? Queen Latifah? Man, you ain’t shit-” The taller badgered, peering to the third friend albeit short that feigned disinterest, propped on the fence Tamara held moments ago.

That’s all it took for Adonis to move the situation along much faster than Tamara anticipated, his bawled fist colliding into the foul mouthed boys jaw, sending him flailing backwards to the ground, followed by punch after punch to his skull from Adonis.

Eyes wide, heart thrashing inside her chest, the escalation of the situation sent her mind reeling. Her first internal line of questioning was what would his mother say if she found out Adonis got into another fight because of her? Would momma Creed separate them, stop watching over her like her own? Squeezing her lids shut, she didn’t wanna know, so she yanked Adonis back.

Adonis stumbled a little, though he allowed Tamara’s touch to soothe the rage brewing inside his chest the longer the the disrespect simmered, and soon enough he found his footing again.

“Donnie he’s not worth the trouble, they’re a bunch of pansies, come on.” She said, caressing the curve of his shoulder and Adonis remained rooted in the same spot, his head tilted as if to say ‘try me.’ But, the taller boy made no attempt at retaliating.

Adonis nodded slow, then glanced around and spotted the basketball he dropped. Picking the ball off the damp pavement, Adonis throttled it at the group, the usual arrogance he carried pulling the corner of his mouth into a smug smirk as he shrugged. He eventually reached behind himself, not needing to see where Tamara were to contact her arm, his grip gentle compared to his demeanor and he lead Tamara toward direction of his house not too far from the court.

Most of the walk consisted of Adonis silently checking on Tamara through subtle actions.

First he’d glance, thumb rested on her wrist bone, then offered a quiet nod of affirmation, his way of communicating, “I got you, T.”

Interrupted again, Adonis sent her an apologetic look, statin’ he had to use the bathroom real quick and just to stay put.

However, halfway across the street, one of the boys from earlier who hadn’t reacted much at all opposed to his friends, sneak attacked Adonis which knocked him to the shadows of the alleyway.

That night, durin’ his second fight. He returned home and to Tamara’s side sportin’ a fresh black eye and his arm bleeding profusely, wrapped tight with a torn piece of his shirt.

Tamara tried asking what happened, petriefied by the punishment he’d receive from his mother and the disappointment momma Creed would direct at her.

But, the closest thing she got to an answer was overhearing him mumble a seething, “weirdo fuckin’ bit me.”

Present Day | 2015.

Seated on Adonis’ bedroom floor, his walls covered in posters featuring professional boxers-his father and rocky no exception-dirty laundry overflowing his basket, a few of her fashion magazines tossed carelessly by his bedside.

They were discussing the future, what theirs would be like when Tamara got an idea, pausing cleaning her brush to use it as a pretend microphone.

“So, Adonis Creed, the fans are dyin’ to know, who’s the sexy stunnin’ gorgeous talented show stoppin’ woman you bring to all your events?”

Adonis shot ‎Tamara a bewildered look, her pale blue hair-brush settled under his mouth, water droplets descending the handle and along the plastic bristles as she anticipated his response.

“Tara, I love you, right? But, I promise if you don’t get that hairbrush out my face, we’re gonna be havin’ some problems.”

“Okay, fine.” Tamara uncrossed her legs and smiled at him, bottom lip tucked between her teeth. “At least tell me why you’ve been actin’ weird lately? You don’t gotta feel guilty, Donnie. I mean, if I didn’t wanna come with you to that match-”

“It’s not about that, T.”

“Then what’s it about?” Inched toward him, Tamara’s thigh brushed Adonis’, reaching for his hand on instinct, and threaded their fingers together.

“You.” He said, voice hushed.

“Oh? Me?” Tamara tasted the words, debatin’ if she should say a quippy retort but decided against it, her lips pursed, left eye squinted shut, “hm, somethin’ about that don’t sound right to me. What did I do now? Eat your favorite cereal again or somethin’? I told you I’d pay for whatever I go through.”

“No- wait…” Adonis side eyed Tamara, his jawbone apparent as he flexed it, “you been eatin’ my cereal again?” When Tamara nodded her head in affirmation, a cheeky smirk accompanying her fretless response, Adonis sucked his teeth and jutted his chin up pointin’ a stern finger at her, “one of these days I’m gonna sit yo’ ass down and have a firm conversation ‘bout self-preservation.” Then he flicked the center of her nose, his scoff soft, “Anyway.” Adonis emphasized with raised brows, “It’s… not that. It’s just… you.”

“Such incredibly insightful knowledge I’ve been given, thank you, truly.” Tamara muttered as she massaged the bridge of her grazed nose and snarled at him, her pouty lips delicate in their curled state, contrasting her faux petulance.

“Okay, smartass, that whatchu you are? Captain smartass?” Adonis flashed Tamara his signature grin only she had the privilege of seein’ and crawled toward her.

Within a matter of seconds, the two were play fightin’.

Later in the night however, he admired Tamara who rested on the left side of his mattress, the blankets kicked and partially disregarded to the wooden flooring.

His gaze appraised the straight bridge of her nose he lightly traced with his index finger, her scent temptation wrapped in forget-me-knots, buried beneath soil and the humidity of a southern summer morning.

Powerless when it came to Tamara, his own nose nestled the nape of her neck, inhaling sharply as the rough palm at her right shoulder clenched the silk pillowcase, pupils dilated though hidden from view.

The intimacy of the act almost lit a fire in the pit of his stomach.

Subconsciously, Adonis scented her, a ritual he followed each night she entangled with him under fresh linen and his clothes; the tickilish sensation producing a slight stirr from her.

“I’ve got you, T. It’s gonna be alright, I promise.”

He breathed against the shell of her ear before he pressed a featherlight kiss to her temple.

“You’re mine.” An uncharacteristic growl erupted through him, once dark irses flickered and startled by the lucent purple hue bouncing off the smooth brown skin he kissed, a development to his lycanthropy he hadn’t forseen, and as a result he almost face planted into the ground like the night he were bitten with how harsh he jerked himself to create space between him and Tamara.

Chest sinking, he exhaled an airy laugh and returned to his reverant worship of Tamara.

Adonis truly couldn’t stand the lack of agency she had over her life. Tamara often let those she loved undermine her beauty, her talent, her capabilities.

It vexed him to no end.

And that same vexation lead him to the initial impulse, that throbbed the veins nestled in thick muscles, and electrified him into his half-baked plans he tucked in the file cabinet of his mind. The file cabinet planted amongst the fertile roots of Tamara, he let envelope him.

Which was quitting his job come morning, confessing his impulse decision to his mother whom wasn’t thrilled to say the least, and boarding them onto the afternoon plane to philly. Where he planned to start a life with her and where both of their dreams could match their countless conversations they had regarding the topic.