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megamindsecretlair · 3 months

Text

Runaway Lover, Part 1

Pairing: Big Stunna x Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. SMUT. ANGST. PWP, cursing, PIV, oral (female and male receiving) teasing/mocking, cum play/swallowing, size kink, dirty talk, praise kink, referring to female anatomy as she, all consensual. Use of n-word. Mentions of God, Christian leaning. Sorry if I missed some, I'm rushing, just let me know.

Summary: On a girl's trip with your friends to Punta Cana, getting some much needed rest before spring semester, you bump into Stunna and a whirlwind romance rocks you to your core.

Word Count: 9,326k

Part 2 | Part 3

A/N: This is a wonderful ask from @melaninpov. I'm sorry if this wasn't what you had in mind, I've been watching romance movies all day and this turned sweet unexpectedly. Happy Valentine's Day, my loves. Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! And please put ages in bios! Or get blockt!

“Are you sure this isn’t too short?” You asked your friends. You stood in the bathroom of your hotel suite. The bright, fluorescent lighting in the bathroom highlighted everything. Everything. You wore a simple gold dress with intricate bronze and burnished orange swirls. It was a tad too short and showed a tad too much.

You weren’t a prude but you were also unused to showing…so much. You tugged at the short sleeves, the low neckline, and pinched the areas around your sides. You weren’t sure why you packed the damn thing, but you were drinking while packing. Something you vowed to never do again.

“You look so hot!” Your friend, Stella, said and moved closer to you and faced the mirror. She wore a violet dress with sparkling beads woven in to make it look like she wore a dress made of stars. It fit her deep ebony skin perfectly and brought out the subtle jewel tones in her skin.

You bit your lip, tasting the sweet lipgloss you dabbed on your lips. Abusing your lips was your worst sin and you avoided putting anything on them but tonight, you were all about new experiences. Hopefully.

“I should change,” you said. You pushed past Stella’s calls out for you to stop and that there was no need.

Angela appeared in the doorway and trapped you in the bathroom. “Damn girl!” You said. Stella’s sister was gorgeous in a marigold bodycon dress that hugged all of her curves and showed off her perfectly round ass. Truly, an apple bottom that she claimed was her best feature.

Angela preened under the praise but did not lower her hands from the door frame. “You’re not changing. None of us are changing. We only have two days left before it’s back to fucking school and we’re going out with a bang. They better be throwing us out before the trip is over,” she said.

She pushed you back into the bathroom. Thank goodness the space was big enough for all three of you. There were wide tile squares on the floor, a discarded hotel towel on the floor to keep you all from slipping, and two large mirrors over a double sink.

Angela and Stella finished up their makeup and demanded that you applied more gloss. Stella handed you a clutch to match your dress and told you to take the gloss with you.

You accepted it with a roll of your eyes. You’d likely go through the entire tube before the night was over. You were constantly at battle with your anxiety. Ya’ll really didn’t fuck with each other but it was like a toxic ex that didn’t know how to leave you alone. You could block, skip, and hop away from it but it was always lurking around the corner.

“Alright! Let’s go!” Stella yelled, getting you two pumped for the night’s activities. You all put on your matching heels or sandals, grabbed purses and clutches, and tucked in last minute items you may need, and headed out of the door.

Punta Cana was a balmy destination spot with plenty of resorts. The trip there had been uneventful but you and your friends had stayed glued to the windows, snapping pictures of the local plantlife, hills, and palm trees.

At the resort, you couldn’t help looking around in wide-eyed wonder, taking in the people and accommodations. You had been here for a few days enjoying the beach and accompanying swimming pool at the resort.

Everyone was friendly and open and a staff member was always around waiting to answer your questions. The goal of the trip was rest, rest, and more fucking rest. You were approaching your final year of school. After this spring semester, you were officially a senior and would have to enter the dreaded world of adults.

Stella and Angela kept up a steady stream of chatter on the ride down the elevator about what they were most excited for. The adults only resort was a breath of fresh air. No kids running around and no harried parents running after them.

Tonight, you were going to the club in the resort. So far, your activities have kept you from that venue. You rode ATVs and did a snorkeling tour off the shore of the beach. You also climbed into a boat to watch the local marine life. That part was your favorite.

Angela had to remind you that you were in fact young and it was okay to enjoy yourself. Half the time, you didn’t know where your anxiety came from. You could be having the time of your life and then boom! Your anxiety was snatching your breath away and warning you of an invisible threat. No matter how many times you asked for proof or begged to know what the threat was, your anxiety only shook its head and repeated the warning tone: danger, danger!

You shoved your anxiety in the recesses of your mind. You were not in danger. There was no threat. You were only here to have a good time.

On the main floor of the resort, the wide open arches and large windows let in enough of the view that you saw the moon ascending the sky. Sunset was losing its grip on this part of the world. Swirling colors of lilac, tangerine, and amber dotted the sky as night approached. The ambient lighting outside began to turn on one by one.

Stella looped her arms through yours and Angela’s arms and pulled you toward the entrance to the club. The music reached you first. Hotel guests were spilling in and out of the place so it must be a popular spot.

You swallowed around the huge lump in your throat as you pushed inside, flashing your wristbands that confirmed your age and the amenities you paid for. The staff member waved you in with a polite smile and soon you were entrenched in the booming club.

The space itself was huge with plenty of dancefloor area. The upbeat, fast paced music got everybody dancing and shaking their hips. There were pillars stationed around the room holding up the ceiling but other than that, it was pretty much open. There was a bar area on a raised platform filled with tables and chairs.

Most were all occupied as people looked over the railing at the brave people down below getting it on in various states of fancy clothing. Dresses flew through the space. Heels clacked on the floor. Hands were in the air in an undulating wave like the waters that crashed on the shore.

There was a heavy smell of liquor and sweat and some type of sweet perfume in the air that tried to combat it. There was no way to combat the funk so it ended up smelling like sweet sweat. But that was to be expected with so many people in one room shaking what the Lord gave them.

You and your friends made a beeline to the bar, immediately ordering sugary drinks that would go straight to your head. Alcohol was never a proper solution to anxiety. However, you’d take anything for a release from its shackles for the night.

As you waited for your drink, you bounced your shoulders trying to get your body to catch up to your mind. “Naw, show us what you got, girl!” Stella said. She whistled and encouraged you to dance a little more, shake a little more.

Fuck it. You couldn’t let your anxiety win this time around. You started getting into it, shaking your booty faster and then backing away from the bar. You felt the rhythm of the song, waving your hands and getting your whole body into it.

You backed up one more step and tripped, your body flying to the right. You shrieked, hands reaching out to catch your fall. However, you didn’t fall. Strong arms encircled you. It took a few moments for your mind to catch up to the fact that you weren’t kissing the nasty club floor.

Your heart roared in your chest, causing stops and starts that made you shake all over. The strong arms pulled you back to standing, righting yourself on your wedges. “Thank you,” you said.

You looked up into the most gorgeous pair of brown eyes you had ever seen. Those eyes were framed by a long face, wide nose, and a trimmed dark beard. He had a big smile with perfect, symmetrical teeth encased in hollow grills.

The man had rich, deep golden brown skin that he showed off with a collared navy shirt and black jeans. His upper arms were bulging with muscles, straining against the short sleeves of his shirt.

He was in a word: devastating.

“Are you okay?” Sound finally filtered past your racing heartbeat. The way he looked at you gave you the indication that he had asked it more than once. You bit your lip and nodded. You forgot how words worked.

“Are you sure you didn’t twist anything?” He asked. His voice felt like what hot chocolate on a cold evening tasted like. It warmed you up from the inside out, awakening places that didn’t usually awaken for anything other than your favorite celebrity and brownies.

Your mind was slow, fuzzy around the edges, as it dawned on you that he was pointing to your feet. You moved each leg, leaning on him while you lifted your legs and moved them in a tiny circle.

You looked back into his eyes and nodded again. “Good,” you chirped.

He smiled slowly. Fuck, you could watch him smile for the rest of your days and never get sick of it. He was so damn cute. And hot. A dangerous combination that had you acting like Helen Keller. ‘Cept you could plainly see how divinely sexy he was.

“Can I buy you a drink to apologize for ruining your dance?” He asked.

You smiled and ducked your head, cheeks warming up from the embarrassment of dancing in front of him. You looked down at his hands secured around your arms, at your hands on his.

You started to move them but he held on a little tighter, unwilling to let you go. “I…kind of already ordered one,” you said around the thick lump in your throat. Come on! Get it together! What the hell was wrong with you?

“Oh, are you here with someone?” He asked. He still didn’t let you go.

You licked your lips, the sweet taste of manufactured strawberries coating your tongue and snapping some sense back into you. You nodded and looked towards your friends. They were openly gawking at you.

“My friends,” you finally said.

“But no guy?” He asked.

You giggled and shook your head. “No girl?” You asked.

He smiled and shook his head. “I’m Stunna,” he said.

You told him your name. He said a few times, rolling the syllables around his tongue like one did to a lollipop. You focused on his mouth and the way he said your name. As if he had been saying it his whole life and never wanted to stop.

“If I can’t buy you a drink, can I get your number? You from the States?” He asked.

Anxiety reared its huge, ugly, monstrous head. You were nervous to just…abandon your friends. Let alone your drink. With your luck, you lived on complete opposite sides of the country. You nodded, to give him an answer about the States. But were too nervous to tell him where. To even hint at the possibility that you could occupy the same city and there wasn’t a national alert about it.

You were sure that he caused a storm of women wherever he went. You would have noticed if he lived around the Bay. You knew that you’d feel him in your blood, taste him in your veins if you lived in the same area. Certain that you would have bumped into each other already. Seen each other somewhere.

“I should probably get back to my friends. I’m sure your friends are missing you as well,” you said. You reluctantly withdrew your hold on him. Your small claim for the time being. Relinquishing that hold hurt.

He nodded. As you turned to leave, he swiftly caught your hand. He brought it to his lips and kissed your fingers. “Save a dance for me? I wanna see more of them moves.”

A nervous giggle pushed against your rib cage, threatening to spill over. You swallowed it back down and bit your lip. You didn’t want to keep turning him down but your stomach twisted and turned. Danger! Threat!

There was nothing threatening about the man so you figured that you needed away. You needed space to breathe and think. Time spent away from his spicy cologne that tickled your nose.

You nodded once more. What were the odds that he’d find you again in this club? If your friends weren’t at the bar, you wouldn’t know the first place to look for them.

Stunna let go of your hand and backed away, giving you a small wink before turning back to his friends. He was surrounded by a group of guys, all hot in some way or another? Damn. You checked out his back side as you walked back to your friends.

“The hell you doing back here?” Stella asked.

“What’s happening? Why aren’t you sitting in that man’s lap?” Angela asked.

“What are you talking about?” You asked. You grabbed your drink, the glass sweating from sitting so long. How long had you been talking to Stunna? And why did you feel like you wanted to run right back into his arms?

You took deep gulps of the fruity concoction, letting the alcohol seep through your system and chase away your anxiety. The cold from the drink burned away the lump in your throat. Being away from him helped. It helped in a way that was foreign to you to name or identify.

People didn’t have physical reactions to others right? Like that was a thing made up by romance movies to get people’s heads in the clouds and sell more candy in stores, right?

Your friends hounded you for answers to their questions, wondering what you spoke about and why you weren’t still talking to him.

“I didn’t want to abandon you for some guy. This is a girl’s trip. A relaxing trip,” you said.

“You better relax on that man’s dick! Like you saw him right? Like you saw the way he looked at you? Girl, please tell me she’s not that oblivious,” Stella said, leaning her head on her sister’s shoulder.

Angela tossed her hands up as if she were preaching to a congregation. “Father God, grant your child the gift of sight because she’s clearly blind,” Angela said.

You laughed, rubbing your forehead at their embarrassing shenanigans. “I’m not oblivious!”

“I pray that I’ll never do some dumb shit like her, Lord. Smite her and send the nigga my way, because damn,” Stella said. She looked behind you and you panicked, standing in her way to not bring attention to the fact that you were discussing Stunna. You risked a glance over your shoulder.

Stunna was sitting down at a table, faced in your direction. He lifted his glass to you and you smiled, turning around and immediately dropping it. The drink wasn’t helping. Butterflies flapped tiny wings in your stomach. He was killing you.

“What happened to new experiences?” Angela asked.

“Not that damn new,” you muttered, sipping more of your drink. At this rate, you’d need ten drinks to calm the wings in your stomach.

Stella groaned dramatically, throwing her arms across your shoulders. “As sweet as it is to worry about us, you see us every damn day. How often do you run across someone that damn fine in real life? In real life? He belongs in a magazine or on TV or some shit,” she said.

That was the fucking truth. “He probably lives on the East Coast or something,” you said, waving Stella off of you. You were too hot. There were too many people here. Too many clusters of hot breath, sweat, and body heat raising the temperature in the room to dangerous levels.

You sipped more of your drink. You tapped your foot against the hard floor, vibrating with energy that had nowhere to go. Nothing to do but zip up and down your body and twist your insides.

“So? You ain’t trynna marry the nigga. Just get down,” Angela said and bent low, shaking her hips. Stella joined her, sticking their tongues out. Stella turned around and bounced her booty against Angela. Angela mimed hitting Stella’s ass and you laughed, waving them away.

“You two are a hot fucking mess!” You screamed. They continued to dance and giggle, shaking their ass and proceeding to make you wish the floor swallowed you whole.

“Since our girl is romantically deficient, let’s get on the floor,” Stella said. You finished your drink and followed your friends to the dance floor.

You started out stiff, not wanting to bump up against anyone. You didn’t need a repeat from earlier. Your friends noticed your reluctance and each took one of your hands. They began to swing you around.

You smiled, falling for their obvious charm. You loosened up and relaxed. The drink finally did the trick and you surrendered to the music. You closed your eyes and felt the thumping beats, the instruments, and sultry crooning of the singer.

You danced and laughed with your friends, relishing the feeling of being young and carefree. This was what you had been chasing this entire trip. This feeling of being present and in the moment.

You began to twerk as the music changed, popping your ass to the beat of the song. Your friends cheered you on. You placed your hands on your knees and got lower. Someone sidled up behind you, not one of your friends you were sure.

You shrugged your shoulders and kept dancing. Now was the time to keep living in the moment. You could dance with someone that wasn’t in your immediate comfort circle. You couldn’t always hang onto your friends like a barnacle.

Large hands circled your waist and you leaned back into a lean but strong frame. The stranger felt like a man and a good dancer on top of it. Able to match your changing moves. The stranger grabbed your hands and spun you around to face him.

Stunna grinned at the surprise on your face. “I thought I told you to save me a dance,” he yelled to be heard over the music.

“What took you so long?” You asked.

“Like that?” He asked, exaggerating his words. You nodded. He matched your nod and then spun you back around. You giggled, breathless at being spun around like a doll. He pulled you around the dancefloor dancing to the fast-paced music with ease. Now it was you that was having trouble keeping up with him.

You faced him now and your hands were in each other’s, dancing with complicated turns and twirling limbs that made you feel like you were on Dancing With the Stars. The song finished and you waved your heads. “I need a break!”

Stunna grinned, flashing those damn grills. You stared at them, wondering if he took them out during sex. Was he the type to go down on a woman? Stunna winked as he if sensed the direction of your thoughts.

He placed his hand on your lower back and led you back to the bar. You ordered some water and he made you order a drink. “Since you don’t wanna give a nigga your phone number,” he said with a show-stopping smile.

You rolled your eyes. “Why do you want my number?” You asked. You drank the water bottle at his nudging.

“So I can hear that sexy ass voice in my ear,” he said.

You rolled your eyes playfully and played with the paper around the water bottle. “You’re so bad,” you said.

He shrugged his shoulders, calling your name like he was savoring the taste of it. “I’m still right though. I want to keep talking to you,” he said.

You could practically feel your friends on your shoulders like little devils pushing you to give him your number. What harm could it do? You held out your hand for his phone. He dug it out of his pocket and handed it to you.

His total focus on you while you entered your number was unnerving. You couldn’t help giggling as you put in your number. He reached out and trailed a finger down your arm, raising goosebumps in its wake. You messed up on a number and giggled in his direction.

“You’re distracting me,” you said.

“Yeah? Good. But make sure that number right,” he said. He peeked across the screen as you backspaced and entered your number correctly.

He smelled like his cologne, sweat, and whatever drink he had throughout the night. You handed his phone back to him. You fanned yourself with your clutch while he looked at his phone.

He smiled and tapped a few times. “There, now you have my number,” he said.

The butterflies returned to your stomach the longer you spent in his presence. He liked that he could fluster you so easily and tried his damndest to keep doing so. Your cheeks ached from all the smiling you did.

You talked more about yourself and your friends and why you came to the D.R. He told you that he was out here celebrating for his friend’s wedding. The wedding had already passed, cheaper during the week, so they were spending the weekend celebrating with friends.

“It’s nice of you all to come out here and celebrate with them,” you said. Stunna turned his head to the side, he didn’t hear you. The music seemed to get louder and even though you yelled, he couldn’t hear you.

Stunna scooted closer to you and yelled in your ear. “Wanna go outside?”

You looked at him and nodded. You couldn’t hear shit, but you were pretty sure you could hear your friends whooping for joy as Stunna took your hand and led you outside of the club.

Your ears popped as you reached the quiet interior of the lobby. There was a stark contrast between the two rooms and your ears rung. You shook your head, trying to clear the ringing. Stunna did the same, shaking his shoulders too for good measure.

Being out in the lobby, the base temperature felt like frost at the top of a mountain. You shivered as it highlighted buckets of sweat rolling down your spine and between your breasts.

A drop of sweat rolled down Stunna’s arm and you followed the movement as it trailed down a prominent vein. Stunna still held your hand and you walked out of the resort, past the open pool that shimmered with light from nearby lamps.

You walked along the concrete pathways heading down to the beach. Before you stepped onto the sand, you leaned down and took off your wedges. Stunna took off his boots, and rolled up his pants legs.

“Looks like I was smart to wear a dress,” you said and giggled at him.

“Damn smart. I’m glad you did. Your body in that dress, hmm,’ he said and rolled his bottom lip between his teeth.

“Stop,” you chuckled and shook your head. He was incorrigible.

“Naw, I can’t. Your ass looks amazing. Thighs I just wanna squeeze. Lips I wanna kiss,” he said. He stood up to his full height and you stared at him.

Soft moonlight fell over his features on one side of his face. The lamps gave a warm glow on the other side. He was light, soaking it all up and reflecting it back out to seem like he had an inner glow.

You sighed, staring at this work of art before you. You wanted to pinch yourself. You stepped closer but Stunna only smiled, grabbed your hand, and you took off down the beach. You spent time walking up and down, warm sand digging between your toes.

You talked more, learning about him and how much he loved to read. You shared that passion and spoke about books you’ve read and favorite authors. He took your recommendations seriously, pulling out his phone to add books to a list on his phone.

“Come back to my room,” he said.

You shook your head. “Won’t your friends be looking for you?”

“Naw. I got my own room. I ain’t sharing shit with them nasty niggas,” he said.

You laughed, moving away from him as the sand made you trip up. Stunna pulled you back to his side. “See, yo clumsy ass need somewhere to sit. Come sit in my room,” he said.

You were back in the same position from earlier when he rescued you from falling. He gripped your elbows, standing close enough to lick, and your hands were on his arms. He was too close, surrounding you with him. You couldn’t think past him. When you looked up, all you saw was him.

You waited to feel panicked and shaky. To warn you to step away and flee from him. It never came. “If I go back to your room, I doubt we’ll just be sitting,” you said.

“I never said that. That’s yo nasty mind,” he said. He licked his lips. “But I like the way you think. You wanna come sit in my lap?”

There were no reservations. No warning bells in your head. No screeches of noise or racing thoughts to prevent you from biting your lip and nodding. From grabbing his hand and watching each other as you left the beach and headed inside.

You didn’t talk as you leaned against one another in the elevator. He placed a kiss to your head and you melted even further into him. The elevator softly dinged and the doors opened to his floor. He stayed in the building next to your room. You were sort of relieved. Had he stayed in the same building or even on the same floor, it would have been too perfect. Too obviously a set up by God or whoever was out there listening.

Stunna swiped his keycard once he got to his room and opened the door. You walked inside the cool room and turned on lights.

He had a suitcase on the couch of his suite, open to reveal some clothes he packed. He had shoes strewn about but for the most part, he was a clean guest. He closed the door and you turned to look at him.

You placed your shoes on the ground next to his, marveling at the contrast between your sizes. It looked oddly perfect sitting side by side. You ignored that runaway thought as you quickly texted your friends that you would be late to the room. It was a good chance to not wait up for you at all if this night went how you were expecting.

Stunna watched you place your clutch on the TV stand. He moved about the room, cleaning up but it wasn’t necessary. Just bags and bottles of water that were on the nightstand.

“I’ll wash off this sand,” you told him.

“I’ll go after you. Take your time,” he said.

Take your time, yeah right. If you took long enough, you would summon your anxiety like an ancient deity out for your blood. You quickly went to the bathroom and freshened up a little, running the bath to clean off your feet. You didn’t even look at yourself in the mirror. If you did, you would chicken out.

You didn’t want to chicken out. You wanted a wild story. A story to tuck in your heart and bring out as the years passed and you lived your life. A story that you held on to when you got older and your partying days was nearing its end.

When you left the bathroom, Stunna had lowered the lights to make it more intimate and softer. He opened the curtains revealing a balcony that overlooked the ocean. He stood outside, twisting caps off of water bottles. He also had a bottle of Hennesy on the small table outside.

You approached and he smiled when you did. “I’ll be right back,” he said.

He went to the bathroom to clean off the sand. You stepped out fully and enjoyed the breeze kissing your skin. You sipped some of the Hennessy, enjoying that sweet burn. The ocean waves crashed against the shore but from this height, you saw further than you did in your room.

Few stars were able to wink in and out behind dark clouds in the sky. The half moon shone down onto the beach and over the resort. Stunna returned and wrapped his hands around your waist, leaning against you.

He grabbed the cup from your hands and finished the rest. He kissed his way along your exposed neck, sending shivers down your spine. You sighed and relaxed into him. He made no move to do anything else, no roaming hands or nasty words.

“You are so gorgeous,” he said.

You turned in his arms and faced him. “I’m done talking. Kiss me,” you said.

He grinned, flashing those damn golds that have been driving you crazy all night. “You sure?”

You wrapped your hands around his neck and pulled him closer before you lost your nerve. You finally tasted him, tasted the bite of Hennessy on his lips. His lips were warm and wet and his tongue dived into your mouth. You moaned as he explored, running his tongue along yours and along your teeth.

Stunna’s hands gripped your arms and moved lower, cupping your ass and squeezing tight. You growled from how good it felt. How wonderful it felt to be in his arms. Stunna hissed in between his kisses, like you were both on fire but he was willing to risk kissing you through the flames.

Your back was against the railing and he pushed into you, rubbing his erection against your tummy. You moaned.

“Keep moaning like that and I won’t be able to control myself,” he said against your lips. You opened your eyes to look at him.

“Don’t control yourself,” you said.

He laughed and licked his lips. He sat down in the closest chair and pulled you into his lap. You straddled him, wobbling a bit since his stance was so wide. Your legs draped on the outside of his and he spread his legs so that he could spread you wider.

His hands searched under your dress so that he could cup your ass directly. Dig those skillful fingers into the meat of your ass. He spanked one cheek and you jerked in his lap, your pussy rubbing against the fabric of his jeans.

He growled, fingers seeking your wet heat. When he found your clit, he had no mercy. He began to run his thumb around the sensitive nub. You scooted higher on his lap, needing the friction of his jeans to help speed your arousal along. Not that you really needed it. You were already dripping for him.

“Mm, so wet. You always sit your pretty ass on strangers and let them finger your pussy?” He asked around kissing you.

“N-No,” you moaned.

He suckled on your bottom lip and your pussy throbbed. He was working some type of magic between your legs. Some type of spell that threatened to rip you into pieces.

“No? You telling me that this is all for me?” He asked. “I get to be the one to play with you?”

“Yess,” you sighed against his lips.

“Then I should feel special that you’re soaking my fingers already and I’ve yet to feel you?”

“Shit,” you sighed. Your arms were wrapped completely around his neck, holding onto him and keeping him close.

He kissed your neck, licking it, while his fingers finally dipped into your entrance. You shook with a long moan, throwing your head back as pleasure rolled through you in cascading waves.

“Nasty little girl, aren’t you?” He asked.

“N-No,” you whined.

He chuckled. “You letting me play with your pussy. And it feels so good gripping my fingers. Bad little girl,” he growled against your throat.

His other hand snaked up your body until he gripped your throat. Your eyes rolled to the back as he squeezed with force. He brought your head closer so that your foreheads were touching.

His fingers increased in pressure and he drove them into you. Effectively fucking you with his fingers. “Say you’re a bad girl,” he said.

Your breathing was heavy and slow, not pumping enough oxygen into your brain. Or perhaps it was him. Perhaps he was some type of demon, stealing the oxygen from your lungs as your orgasm swam to the surface.

You couldn’t make your words work. The words stuck to the roof of your mouth like peanut butter. Your mouth moved, working double time as he stuck two fingers inside and rolled your clit with his thumb.

“Say it if you wanna cum,” he said.

“I wanna,” you whined.

“You wanna what?” He asked. “Shit, you’re so fucking wet. Can’t wait to taste you. Do you taste as sweet as you look?”

You whined and gyrated your hips. Why couldn’t you say anything? Why couldn’t your mouth work to speak?

“I wanna cum,” you finally choked out. You leaned your head back. He allowed you to do so and he kissed your neck around his fingers, dipping low to kiss your chest and just above your breasts.

“Say you’re a bad girl if you wanna cum,” he demanded.

You were close. Incredibly close. “Don’t stop, don’t stop,” you moaned.

“I’m waiting,” he whispered against your skin. Blowing air across your chest, around the pools of saliva he left on your skin.

“I’m bad. I’m a bad girl,” you moaned.

“So bad,” he agreed.

“So bad. You make me feel so good,” you moaned.

His fingers never stopped pumping into you. Your legs squeezed his and your eyes shut as you cried with your orgasm. Stunna continued to pump his fingers as you came, cooing against your skin.

“So pretty when you cum,” he said. When you were done and slumped against him, he withdrew his fingers. Shivers still wracked your body. He moaned while he suckled on his fingers, licking up your essence.

You watched him as he closed his eyes and savored your taste. You licked your lips watching him. He cleaned his fingers and gave you a wink. “You okay?” He asked.

You shook your head. “I wanna taste you too,” you said.

He grinned. “Get on your knees,” he said. You slid off of his lap with a lopsided smile. The balcony floor wasn’t entirely comfortable, but you were too focused on him unzipping his pants. He released himself from his pants and briefs.

Your eyes widened. You couldn’t possibly fit the whole thing in your mouth?!

Stunna chuckled and moved to put his dick away but you gripped his thighs. “I said, I want to taste you too.” You glanced at him as you took him into your mouth. He gave you an impressed smirk, licking his lips at the look of you taking him deep within your mouth.

You couldn’t fit all of him like you thought. But you got enough of him down. You hoped that your inexperience didn’t show. You’ve sucked dicks before but he was probably used to throat goats. Used to women taking him down to the base, fondling his balls, or knowing what the fuck to do.

You only knew that you wanted to keep going. Wanted to please him. You drooled on him and released him to get some air. Using both hands, you twisted his long shaft and then suckled the head of his dick back into your mouth.

His eyes opened and closed, back bowing off of the chair, as he groaned. His hand palmed your head and pushed you down on his dick, pushing you past your limit until you choked. He eased up, but you took him how he wanted. Your saliva helped your hands twist around his dick and coat his tip.

“Gahh damn. Fuckin’ nasty,” he groaned. You made a pleased sound in the back of your throat and continued to take him deeper and faster. Your sloppy, wet suckling was loud in the quiet air.

You slurped him, drops of precum hitting your tongue. You suckled him all down, glancing at him periodically to see the ecstasy on his face. The pleasure you were bringing him.

“Gonna bust,” he groaned.

“Wanna taste,” you said around his dick.

His breathing turned choppy before he tensed. You felt his orgasm travel up his shaft before he moaned, releasing his cum in your mouth. You continued to milk him for every drop you could. You swallowed him all down.

He pushed at your shoulders to stop, sounds escaping him that you never heard from a man. “Too good,” he panted.

You grinned. You wiped at the corners of your mouth. “You’re dangerous,” he said.

You blinked up innocently at him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said.

His eyebrows raised and he chuckled, wiping the sweat from his brow. “Remember you said that,” he said.

He scooted the chair back and stood up, helping you to your feet. He pushed you into the room and closed the balcony door, leaving behind a tiny crack to still let in the breeze from the ocean.

He unzipped your dress and dropped it to the floor, sighing at the look of your body. You never felt so cherished during sex. You weren’t expecting love and all that crap whenever you took someone to bed. It was more like an overwhelming itch that needed to be scratched.

After the deed, your anxiety returned with a vengeance and you were the first out of the door. No one wanted to deal with an anxious mess after getting off.

With Stunna, there was none of that usual nervousness or shyness holding you back. You just wanted him.

Your soaked panties went next. He knelt down, doing all the work of removing it. He kissed along your spine and back, the globes of your ass, and the back of your thighs. You shivered at the attention. The care with which he removed your panties.

He stood back up and unhooked your bra, freeing your breasts. He eagerly grabbed them from behind and rolled your nipples between his fingers. He pulled you until you leaned back against him.

“Can’t wait to get these in my mouth. I wanna be a gentleman, but fuck. I just want to break you,” he said.

A vicious tingle spread around your thighs. “I never asked you to be a gentleman,” you said.

He chuckled. “Fair, but I don’t wanna scare you away,” he said.

“I’m a big girl. I can use my words when I need to,” you said.

“Yeah? Get on the bed then. Hands and knees, bad girl,” he said. He smacked your ass, hard and you did as instructed. You climbed into his bed and got on your hands and knees.

You were too far away however. He grabbed your hips roughly and pulled you to the edge of the bed. He gripped himself and shoved into your inviting pussy with one savage thrust. His grip on your hip prevented you from escaping. You tried to lean forward, but he held you in place.

He pressed on your back until your chest was against the bed. Your ass was high in the air, giving him total access to you. He smacked your ass.

“You been talkin’ mad shit all night,” he said. He began to stroke, delivering hard and long thrusts that immediately found your G-spot.

“Oh shit!” You cried out.

“That’s my shit.” You heard the pleased grin in his tone. How did he find it so fast?

He continued to stroke, hitting your sweet spot over and over with military precision. He smacked your ass with one hand while the other kept a firm grip. “You ain’t so bold now. A little dick shuts you up?” He asked.

You couldn’t speak. He was slamming into you so hard, just the way you always dreamt of. It brought tears to your eyes. Most guys were afraid to be rough. Afraid of catching a case once you asked them to go a little deeper or stroke a little harder.

Not Stunna. He drove into you, seeking something you couldn’t name. It didn’t take long before you were convulsing, shaking on his dick.

“Talk to me, then. Say somethin’ else,” he said.

“Achgg,” you moaned, eyes rolling.

Stunna continued to work himself inside of you. His dick speared you. Nearly split you in half. You bounced back on his dick, giving as much as you got.

“Fuck,” he moaned. “Don’t let me stand in your way. You take what you need from me,” he said.

Wet, smacking noises filled the room. The sound of your combined fucking pushed another orgasm to the surface. Your ass clapped on his thighs. Your screams were sure to draw the attention of his neighbors.

He leaned forward and wrapped his hands around your throat. “Fuuh,” you moaned.

Both of you matched each other’s intensity. He pulled you by your throat to swallow every long inch of him. Your desperate thrusts sounded like thunder against his skin.

“Goh, goh, fuh,” you chanted in rapid succession.

“So good, so good. Pussy feel so good. You were made to take this dick, weren’t you? You were made for it,” he groaned.

Your hands feebly held onto the bed in front of you but there was no use. This was so intense and passionate that your orgasm crushed you into a tiny ball and flung you into a tornado. You screamed until you were hoarse. Drool leaked out of your mouth with your whiny cries.

Stunna continued to hold your throat and pound, chasing his own climax. “Greedy ass. Fuck, you take me so well,” he groaned.

You were shaking as you rode out your orgasm. As soon as you ended, he began. He flooded your pussy with his cum, roaring like an animal as he climaxed. Your body twitched and spasmed on his dick. His dick hit something deep inside, too deep to know what. But it hit a natural reset.

Stunna let go of your throat and held onto your hips to keep from falling on top of you. You both panted, harsh breaths filling the room. You sniffled as you recovered, brain quiet for once.

Stunna slipped out of you and he leaned back to watch his cum slip out. He panted and his breaths fell across your ass and pussy.

“Fuck,” he said.

You agreed. You never felt something like that before. Possessed. Owned. It was a feeling you would spend your entire life trying to find again. Would you be able to?

Both of you were too wobbly to move. As if with your dual climaxes, you had entered a new plane of existence. Being back in the real world sucked. It seemed foreign. You were changed by the experience so why hadn’t the world changed?

Stunna left to go to the bathroom and returned with a warm washcloth. You cried at the sensation. “Shh, shh, I got you,” he said.

The rough fucking was everything you needed but you were fucking sore. You ached. It felt too damn good for you to complain though. He gently cleaned you up, wiping you down and wiping off some of the sweat.

You curled up into a ball, trying to will yourself to move. To get dressed and make your escape. You felt like the sex police would descend from the ceiling and arrest you for upsetting the natural law of the universe.

You couldn’t move. You felt too raw, too exposed. You focused on your breathing, on drawing air in and then out. Stunna returned from the bathroom and you cringed at the picture you must make.

“I’ll leave just as soon as my legs work,” you mumbled.

Stunna chuckled. “Can you stay?” He sat on the bed in front of you. You were too afraid to look in his eyes. You didn’t know if you were over exaggerating the moment. You wouldn’t be able to bear it if you felt like your world tilted on its axis while it was just Friday night to him.

Stunna laid down on the bed and lifted your chin with his fingers. “Please, stay,” he whispered.

His eyes swirled with emotion. As if the moment you left, this would all disappear from memory. Until he wasn’t sure if he dreamt this or it was real. It only mirrored what you were feeling so you nodded and he grinned. “What you need?”

For your skin to feel like it wasn't going to slough off the moment you unfurled. You looked at him with wide eyes. He nodded as if he understood the turmoil inside of you. He stood up and then came around to lay behind you. His hands came around your arms and knees, pulling you into the heat of his body.

You sighed. Exactly what you needed. He pulled the covers over you, wrapping you in a tiny cocoon of heat. You drifted off to the sound of his quiet breathing. The last thing you felt was a tiny kiss behind your ear.

In the morning, you yawned and stretched. Stunna was asleep next to you. Somehow, you were laying properly in the bed, head on a pillow and his hand draped across your tummy. You watched him in the early morning light.

This was dangerous. Ludicrous. It was crazy to feel this type of connection with someone else. Someone so obviously built for you yet it couldn’t last. Tomorrow you were flying back home. On Monday, it was back to classes.

After taking a peek at the edge of the universe, how did you go back to normal? How did you carry on and keep this in your memory bank?

You had to get out. You lifted his hand to scoot away from him. Away from the oppressive heat that made sweat pool behind your knees.

Stunna groaned and sniffed, pulling you back against his side. “Where you think you going?” He asked.

You giggled. “Back to my suite,” you said.

“You was gonna sneak out? That’s cold,” he said. His deep voice was rough from sleep and it made your pussy flutter. Really? After all that last night, she was still ready to go?!

“Sneak is such an ugly word.” You sighed as he finally cracked one eye open and looked at you.

“At least let me get you breakfast. You can get changed and meet me right back here,” he said.

You laughed. “What if I have plans?” You asked.

“You do. With me,” he said.

You shook your head. “You’re crazy.”

He grabbed your hand and linked your fingers together. Your hands were perfect against each other, skin tones perfectly aligned.

“Please? Text your friends and tell them you’re safe. When do you leave?” He asked.

“Tomorrow,” you said.

“See? Give me one last day until we can figure out when we’ll see each other again.”

You sighed. You couldn’t say no to that face. Those eyes. You bit your lip and nodded. He grinned, peppering you with kisses all over your face.

He ordered room service and ate you out before it came up. He moaned and suckled while he did so, grinding his hips into the bed like he wanted to bury his face into your pussy forever.

When the food arrived, you talked and ate and laughed, sharing more details about yourself but not personal information like the fact that you were in school or where he was working. You talked through safe subjects but all the information you gathered about him, you held it close to your heart.

Each passing moment spent with him carved out a section of your heart and replaced it with a gorgeous, sexy man named Stunna. You did make it back to your room where your friends gushed over your night. You still had no words but you squealed while you showered and begged their forgiveness while you planned to spend the day with Stunna.

They encouraged you, admitting that in a move that surprised no one, they found their way to their own flavor of the day. They agreed to come back to the room at a decent hour to pack away their shit and figure out their flight.

You spent the rest of the day with Stunna, outside of his suite, walking around the resort. It had a small gambling area where he tried to show you how to play poker. He was a very sweet teacher, but you couldn’t make heads nor tails of the rules. You were more of a spades player, but good luck finding that shit here.

You shared desserts and walked along the beach, sitting in the sand in between his legs and talking some more. Stunna stole kisses throughout the day, unwilling to leave your lips for the second it took to breathe and join back together.

As night fell, you ate dinner with him and found your way back to his room where you slowly peeled each other’s clothes off. Where you feasted your eyes on his skin. Gasped as he entered you once more and you gave each other untold amounts of pleasure.

Where he held you like he loved you but fucked you like you stole something from him. You came, looking into his molten brown eyes, nuzzling your cheek against the stubble on his chin. He came with your legs pinned to the mattress and his dick threatening to fuck you into the mattress, the floor, and the next floor down.

You kissed and cuddled while you talked about talking to him every day. He entered you again while you were stubborn, saying you might be busy.

“Naw, this shit belong to me now,” he said while he thrusted into you for the…third time that night? Fourth? Who kept count while his delicious dick was inside you and you felt whole again? Complete.

“It belongs to me,” you said.

He grinned and bit your nipple, then licked away the sting. He continued to nibble across delicate skin, moaning when he found your other nipple and tugged with his teeth. You hissed and your back curved, giving him all the access he wanted.

“Do we have a problem?” He asked.

“Do we?” You countered.

He grinned and then slipped out of you, only to hike one of your legs up in the air. He reentered you from the side, slamming into you until you were crying and shaking on his dick, screaming out his name.

“Stay talkin’ shit,” he groaned as he filled you up once more.

Saying goodbye to him was the hardest shit you ever had to do. It was like you both knew that even with talking every day, it wasn’t the same. It wasn’t the same as lying next to him and feeling him take up space in the room, in your heart, in your pussy.

He kept tugging you back for one more kiss, asking if he could walk you to your room. You were blinking back tears. You didn’t want to leave him. But you couldn’t stay either. Both of you had places to be, lives to get back to.

He leaned in the doorframe, holding your hand and not letting you leave. You smiled. “Stunna, you have to let go.”

“I’on want to,” he said.

“It’s not forever,” you said, trying to sound hopeful. Your words only sounded sad. He sighed and rubbed his head on his arm.

“I know. I know.”

He pulled you close to him, capturing your lips with a devastating kiss. You licked his lips, committing the taste and smell of him to memory. “Not forever,” he said.

“Not forever.”

You turned and snatched your hand. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t have the strength to leave. A cold numbness seeped into your bones as you made the trek to your suite. Stella and Angela commented on how melancholy you seemed.

How could you explain it? That you possibly found your soulmate in Punta Cana and had to leave him here? To be happy with texts and phone calls? Poor substitutes to hugging him, cuddling him, kissing him, fucking him?

You told them that you were all fucked out to explain it now. Ask you in a week. When your heart wasn’t broken and the pain was less intense. Less potent.

They left you alone to wallow while you all packed up your things and souvenirs. The ride back home was uneventful. You weren’t up to the usual plane shenanigans of talking and comparing in-flight meals. You didn’t feel like eating at all.

You texted Stunna that you arrived safely and even spoke to him on the phone. But it only hurt worse. “C’mon, we said not forever,” he said.

The bastard was right though. Hearing his voice in your ear helped but it wasn’t the same.

“Not forever. I just want you here,” you said.

“I know. We did a few things backward, but when we’re comfortable, we’ll arrange something,” he said.

You talked until you absolutely had to go to sleep to get ready for class. Luckily, your first class of the day was in the afternoon. You had a chance to recover from the plane ride and time difference.

Everything was dull. The California sun was dull. The campus was boring. Students felt like aliens to you, playing and existing in a world that ended for you back in Punta Cana in Stunna’s arms.

You sighed, not for the hundredth time, as you dragged your carcass across campus and to your class. Settling into your literature class, you didn’t share this with Stella and Angela. You were left to look out of the window, mind far, far away.

Your pen tapped on the desk, picturing that accidental bump into Stunna over and over again. Act of fate? Accident? How could you meet the love of your life only for you to be ripped away from him and planted back into your normal life like nothing was wrong?

The door opened and you assumed your teacher came through. Whatever.

“Sorry, I’m late. Not used to the campus yet.”

Your head whipped around and there he was. Stunna stood at the front of the class wearing a deep brown sweater over chocolate colored pants. The sleeves were rolled up revealing his smooth forearms.

He wrote his name on the whiteboard and your heart seized in your chest. Panic made your heart pound against your rib cage, practically screaming to be let out. You sunk in your seat. Ohgodohgodohgodohgod.

Stunna turned around and smiled at the class. When his eyes found yours, his jaw dropped and he stared. He stared and stared and you didn’t know what he was thinking or what he was going to do.

He cleared his throat and smiled at the class, introducing his real name. Not that you thought Stunna was his real name, but it was the name he usually went by. His eyes kept returning to yours.

You…slept with your college professor. Your life was over. Ruined. How the hell could you fall in love with your professor? And what the hell were you going to do now?

The Secret Big Stunna Files | Part 2 | Part 3

#Megaminds Secret Files #The Secret Big Stunna Files #Big Stunna x Black!reader #Big Stunna x Black reader #x Black reader #Big Stunna x Fem!reader #Big Stunna x Fem reader #Big Stunna x reader #Big Stunna x you #yahya abdul mateen ii #yahya abdul mateen ii fanfiction #All Day and a Night fanfic #All Day and a Night fan fic #All Day and a Night fan fiction #All Day and a Night fanfiction #Yahya abdul mateen ii fan fiction

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itsbackwoodsbby · 4 months

Text

O M W

Yahya Abdul Mateen II x Black Fem Reader

A/N: I say this is a sequel to ICU. Soooo if you haven't read ICU...go read it, mamas.

Warning: Smut! Public Sex (Balcony Sex)! Oral Sex! Unprotected Sex!

Summary: As soon as you knew Yahya was done with the gym, you texted him that you needed that dick. He gets ready and gives you exactly what you want.

Inspo: O M W by Tonio Hall

As soon as Yahya walks out of the gym, his phone rings. He knows it’s you because you have a special ringtone. He looks at his phone and sees your explicit messages. Your smooth bare body, laying in the bed touching your body, lowering down to your pussy. He chuckles and replies, “So, you miss me?” He teases you. Your replies send him as you beg him to come over to your house and fuck you senselessly and how you need his dick badly. He puts his stuff in his car and gets in. He replies, “Okay, let me shower. I’ll be there.”

He starts driving. Though he doesn’t need the hype to fuck, he puts his sex playlist on. The first song that comes on is O M W by Tonio Hall. It gets caught in his head, so he puts it on repeat. His mind is filled with how wet your pussy is now as you impatiently way for him, the many dirty things he wants to do to you, and how he was going to break that pretty little pussy of yours.

He gets out of his car and goes inside his house. He put his gym bag in his gym room. He smiles as that special ringtone goes off again. He looks at your messages, rushing him to come to your house, telling him how impatient you are. He texts you and tells you he’s getting the shower. He spends a few minutes in the shower, thinking about all the surfaces to fuck you on. The couches, the counter, against the wall, and on your balcony so the city can see how crazy you are for this man’s dick.

“Coming, running to you whenever you say.”

He sings along as he wraps the towel around his waist. He dries off and gets dressed in something light. He puts a hoodie on and some basketball shorts. He places his beanie on and puts his hood on as well. He walks out and his phone chimes that same ringtone, “Yahya where are you?” He texts back, “I am on my way, mamas. I just got in the car.”

He starts driving to your house. The red lights are pissing him off. It is hard not to break the law and keep going. As he waits for the red light to turn green, he thinks about eating your pussy, letting your juices drip down his beard. Then picking you up, laying you down on the counter, placing your legs on his shoulders, and fucking you senselessly like you asked him to do. A car honks the horn bringing Yahya out of his thoughts. The light is green and now Yahya is only a few blocks away from your place.

As he parks in the parking garage, the phone chimes again and it’s you. “Baby, hurry up. I can’t wait any more.” He smiles and replies, “I am here. I am getting in the elevator now.” He gets in the elevator and leans on the wall. The door opens and he walks to your door being semi-already opened.

He comes in and sees you lying on the couch, naked. He closes the door behind him, takes his hoodie off, and starts kissing your neck, making you even wetter. He kisses you down your body and he starts kissing and sucking on your thighs. You grip his head as he sucks on your clit. His left hand creeps up on your body to your neck and he squeezes it a bit. With his other hand, he’s fingering your pussy. You cry out as the pleasure is too much already as he pumps two fingers in and out at a fast speed still flicking his tongue on your clit. Yahya looks at you. He rubs your clit as he starts talking you through your climax.

“Come on, mamas. Let that pussy come for me.” He rubs your clit faster. “Yahya, Yahya…” You call his name out in whine. His eyes fill with more lust as your lower half jerks up. “I am coming, baby. I am coming!” You shout out. He smiles at you as you release, moaning a sweet tune. He takes you to your balcony. You look at him eagerly. “Yahya, are you forreal?” You squeal. Balcony sex has always been on your list and you get to do it with the person you love. “Yes, let’s do it.” He gives you a cheeky smirk.

He lowers his basketball shorts and you get on your knees. He holds your hair as you start bobbing your head down his shaft. He grunts as your hand starts to massage his balls. Your other hand strokes his dick as you suck him. You look up at him with a sultry look. He bites his lips in return and grabs the back of your head tightly. Suddenly, he is fucking your throat. Your eyes water up and he wipes your tears and smiles at you. His dick begins to throb and twitch in your mouth. You smile and go faster. He holds your head close to his stomach and he cums in your mouth. You swallow his cum and he holds you there until he can get the feeling back in his body. You are a little winded, but you stand up and look at him. Just in a matter of seconds, he regains his energy.

He bends you over the rail and rubs his tip against your clit before he fills your pussy up with his dick. You sharply inhale and exhale slowly. He automatically starts pounding inside you. You try not to be loud since you’re outside, so you close your mouth to reduce sound. Yahya grips a handful of your hair, pulls you back, and lowly whispers in your ear, “Let the city hear you, baby girl.” He lets your hair go and you fall back on the rails. “Yahya, fuck, fuck! Don’t stop please baby don’t stop.” You cry out. Hot tears running down your face. Yahya’s hands travel up to your boobs and he fondles with them. The city lights begin to blur as he starts hitting your spot. You whine and grab his stomach, but he pins your arm behind you, “You said senselessly. Imma give you what you asked for.” He buries his dick deeper inside you.

Your body is filled with so much ecstasy. You are shouting at the top of your lungs about how Yahya’s dick is the best and how good he feels fucking you. “That’s right. Tell them how you love this dick.” He grunts. “I love this dick, baby. Fuck I love this dick.” You moan out as you clench tightly around his dick. “You going come on this dick?’ Yahya asks you in a husky voice. Yes, yes!” You shout. “I am going to come on your dick.” You start trembling and your body jerks up as you release on his dick. He slows down for a bit for you to slowly relax your body and hang on the rail. He doesn’t give you much time as he resumes pounding deeper inside you.

You feel him in your stomach and you feel your body start feeling like jelly. Your legs start to buckle and you grip tighter to the rail. He holds your hip and picks his pace. Your bottom lip starts to quiver and you keep blinking your eyes, trying to say conscious. Yahya starts twitching inside you. “Where you want this nut, mamas?” He asks you. You don’t answer, so he slams into you in between words. “I said, Where… Do… You.. Want… This Nut… Mamas? Inside you?” Your lips quiver more as you moan, “Yes, yes Daddy. Fill me up.” His last slam, he comes inside you. His dick twitches into you for a bit before he stumbles back. You fall to the ground and try to gain consciousness and your breath. Yahya leans on the wall and it takes a while to regain his energy back.

You tell Yahya you’re done, but he shrugs. What did that mean for you? You were getting fucked into the morning. Yahya made his dirty thoughts into a reality. He fucks you on the counter. He fucks you against the wall. He fucks you in the shower. He fucks you on all surfaces in your apartment. After you got pounded into the headboard, you finally collapsed and you are out for the count. He smiles and smacks your ass, proud that he accomplished his mission.

#black fanfiction #poc writer #celebrities #x black fem reader #black fanfic writer #short story #smut #itsbackwoodsbby #yahya abdul mateen ii #yahya abdul mateen ii smut #rated r #late night #black writer #black tumblr #black smut

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henneseyhoe · 9 months

Text

My Big Three As Boyfriends|

Trevante♡

You wanna have the perfect balance of a country boy and a city boy rolled into one? He’s the man for you!

His love feels like coming into a warm house after shoveling snow.

The first time you two ever kissed, my lady by Tyrese played in the background and since then ‘my lady’ with a brown heart has been your contact name.

He’ll sing any song you ask him to even though his ass can barely hold a tune in all seriousness.

Uncovering your ears, you start laughing. “Yes, sounds just like how Tyrese sung it” He smiles and takes a bow.

You try not to be the clingiest since he loves his space sometimes, but he definitely has his moments where he needs you near him like some kind of support teddy.

Hates when you all up on him when it’s time to sleep but always ends up damn near on top of you by the morning.

“Move, Bae, it’s hot” he groans. 8 hours later. “Tre…Trevante…baby, you crushin’ me!” You huff, trying to push his arm and leg off of you so you could go pee.

He’ll blame you as if your little ass can move him from one side of the bed to the other.

Expect booty slaps every time you walk by, and don’t let him be upset with you prior, cause it’ll be harder this time.

“Tight ass shorts” he’d say as you walked around the house as free as you wanted in the Nike shorts HE bought you.

Often play fighting and roughhousing until he accidentally hits you too hard and has to be soft with you for the rest of the day.

“Awwnnn, cmere, I didn’t think it was gonna land that hard” he holds you as you pout, rubbing your now sore arm. “That actually hurt, Tre. Like seriously 🥺”

He makes fun of the Erotic books you read, but you caught him peaking over your shoulder once and following along with one of your favorite stories.

“Don’t get too hype, I peeped something and the shit was interesting!”

Has a habit of putting his hand up your shirt when you two are cuddling.

He hates when you leave for work because he works mornings and you work nights. Sometimes on his day offs(though a bad idea) he’d stay up at night and bother you on the phone all throughout your work, dropping hints that you needed to come home on your snack break for a real meal.

-you’d brush him off and sneak off to the bathroom, sending him a titty pic to hold him off till you got home.

-‘oh wow. I just might take a trip instead actually’

-He’s definitely already taken trips up there a few times to get you right, as he should.

Michael♡

A REAL certified loverboy

If you told him to jump, he’d ask how high.

He would never admit it but he is CLINGY. He wants to be with you and all up under you as soon as those paparazzi cameras turn off.

Also certified double texter.

‘babe’ ‘Y/N’ ‘Y/N’ ‘Y/N’ ‘babe’

‘don’t act like you don’t see these texts’

‘WHAT boy’

‘I miss you’ ‘wyd my love’

‘working. Something you should be busy doin’

‘I finished already’

‘Fast reader you are. Here’s a gold star⭐️’

‘What can I say? You’re engaged to a smart man’

‘Engaged?’

Boo🩷 has unsent a message.

‘Forget you read that till further notice’

The man can’t hold water, as you can see. Which is why you don’t tell him anything that’s meant to be a secret.

He literally can’t sleep without your leg thrown over him some kind of way.

He remembers all the cute little shit you like year around so he already has a laid out plan of gifts for Birthdays, Valentines, and Christmas.

A good bit of his camera roll is just you and screenshots of things he wants to keep tabs of.

Can’t organize for shit and that’s exactly why his phone storage is about to explode

Begged you to organize his work stuff, so you agreed, until you saw NOTHING was put where it’s supposed to go.

“how do you work like this?!”

“I honestly don’t know…I- I do not know” he responds, staring at the unorganized files.

“Your assistant doesn’t take care of this stuff?”

“I don’t like to bother her like that”

“Nigga, she’s an assistant, she’s supposed to be bothered!”

Thursdays were self care days for you two. Wether you were just sitting around and watching a movie or doing actual things to improve the body, it was still self care to y’all.

Both of you are foodies, but he’s more adventurous, so he always tries to get you to try new foods when out together.

“would you ever try live squid?” He asks, looking through the menu the restaurant provided for them. “Uhh..I dunno. I don’t think I’d like it, but I’d probably try. Just have to ignore the memory of that story of that man who ate a live squid and it killed him and crawled back up his throat” he stares at you for a moment then looks back down at his menu. “Never mind then…”

Soooo protective of you and thinks you don’t stand up for yourself enough so he always makes sure you’re heard in any and all conversations.

Takes any chance to show you off. Was it cause he genuinely loved you or was it cause he liked showing niggas what they’ll never have? Both actually.

“Oh, and y’all know my girl, right? My beautiful, wonderful girlfriend” he grabs you by the hand, and kisses the top of it, pulling your attention away from your drink. You smile and look away, feeling extra appreciated.

Gentlemen in the streets, freak nasty in the sheets.

You ever came so hard that it took a few seconds for your vision to come back? Yeah.

Yahya♡

The dynamic between the both of you is just very unserious. He is truly your bestfriend who also happens to be your boyfriend

It’s hard to get anything done when the both of you are constantly cracking jokes back and forth, a con of having the same job.

“Yahya, please, my stomach hurts!” you spoke in between laughs, tears prickling the both of y’all’s eyes as you tried to make it through a SINGULAR business email. “How the fuck do you misspell so much shit on a business email?!” He howled, wiping tears from his face and slouching in his seat, you still crying.

He blames you for when he doesn’t get much work done, but he knows damn well it’s his fault for being the goofy mf he is.

When you two were just friends, your mutual friends would tease him by calling him “boy Y/N” because you both had so much in common.

He’s your reminder to eat like a normal person

“What’d you eat today?” Yahya questions, reading over his weekly to-do list. You glare at him then look back at your computer, not answering because you didn’t wanna hear his mouth about you forgetting to eat. Sighing, he gets up and heads into the kitchen to make you something quick.

At first the relationship felt like you two were still just friends, but you both grew into being a little more intimate with each other.

You both can’t help but create small(but healthy) competitions. You were both a little more competitive than you’d like to admit, but you both had competitions so often that basically everyone you guys hung out with knew of them.

“Damn” You sigh as you watched your paper ball miss the trash basket. “Hm” Yahya hums and gets up, picking the paper ball up. Instead of throwing it away right then, he went back to his seat that was a bit farther back and took a shot, the paper effortlessly making it in the basket. You look back at him with a squint and he smirks. “Okay, bet” you whisper.

Ten minutes had gone by and you both were throwing balled up paper that you needed in the trash. To make what point? Neither of you knew, but you both were entertained.

Theres a box in his closet with Polaroid pictures of you two throughout the five years of dating each other, most taken by Yahya himself because in his words, “I just love looking at you. Pictures don’t even capture all that I see, but damn, baby”

The man could easily make you melt like some chocolate. He was just as smooth as he was when you first met him.

Once you both got more into the relationship, he was honestly the most romantic and caring person ever. He’d do anything to make you feel those butterflies.

Sent you on a corny little riddle game for Valentine’s Day once which lead you to some of your favorite places around the city until the last clue brought you home to three bouquets of your favorite flowers and a ring the size of your brown eyes.

Alexa, play whatever you want by Tony! Toni! Toné!

Some niggas don’t trick, but Yahya? Oh he’s gonna step. In the end, if you’re happy, he’s happy.

The night ended with something else a little more eventful that had the neighbors thinking to call the cops for the third time that month.

He plans on staying with you for the rest of his life, and made that know.

And he’s determined to put a baby in you one of these days, with or without that damn ring.

✮✮✮✮

Looks and bias aside, who would y’all pick as a boyfriend? 🫣 I think I’d pick Yahya 😭

#black fanfic writer #black fanfiction #black!reader #masterlist #black actors #black reader #black!fem!reader #black!oc #smut masterlist #trevante rhodes #trevante rhodes x reader #michael b jordan #michael b jordan x reader #yahya abdul mateen ii #yahya abdul mateen ii x reader #blurb #henneseyhoe

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berberriescorner · 1 year

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Nobody's Gonna Know

(Part One)

Characters: Yahya Abdul-Mateen II as himself x Black!reader (woc!reader), Michael B. Jordan as himself (appearance), and Kiana Ledé as “Jerrika” (appearance).

Summary: What happens when you realize what you’ve always wanted was right in front of your face the entire time?

Warnings: Profanity, daddy kink (you’re not surprised), smut, mentions of violence, drinking, and did I mention smut already😈?

Word Count: (Part One) 4,100+/9,000+. Sorry, lovelies, I couldn’t stop😆.

A/N: Yes, it’s lengthy, but the idea snowballed into something unexpected. I hope you all enjoy it!

Inspired By:

Lounging lazily on your king-size bed, you laid on your back comfortably in an oversized t-shirt. You silently scrolled through Instagram. Your breath hitched at the feel of fingertips gently stroking your calves. Still staring at the phone screen, a wicked little idea popped into your head. You smirked, tapping the add a new post button. Using your free hand, you positioned it atop the head that rested on your pelvis and between your thighs. Not wanting to give him reason to stir, you gently stroked his head, and he relaxed into your touch. The movement of your hand paused long enough to snap the picture. He was none the wiser as he continued to search for something to watch on HBO Max. Eyes still searching the screen, he turned his head slightly and placed a gentle kiss on the inside of your thigh.

“Soft ass thighs.”

A soft moan fell from your lips. You made sure Yahya’s face wasn’t in the shot. Your digits glided across the keyboard, adding a Nicki Minaj lyric as the caption, “My man full, he just ate💦😘.” You tapped the post button and laid your phone on the nightstand.

Yahya had just licked you to tears. No one knew about the two of you. That you started as best friends turned into a sneaky link. The both of you have secretly been trying to figure out what this was morphing into. Unsure of where things were going, you decided to keep things quiet. You both enjoyed teasing the people in your inner circle on IG (they were all extremely nosey). Thus the reason for posting said pic—that it would sometimes get a rise out of the other person was a bonus.

Yahya received a notification that you had posted. Still lying between your legs, he teased, “What thirst trap are you posting now?” He froze, seeing a picture of his current position. He huffed, “You for real?”

Yahya rolled over, still lying on top of your stomach. His hand rained down on your thigh.

“I thought this was supposed to be on the low? You damn near ripped my head off for telling my bro I was over here in the middle of the night. I guess the rules only apply to me,” Yahya grumbled. His face changed from frustration to a sly grin.

“Boy, calm down. Nobody’s going to know that’s you. That’s what makes it so exciting, you teased. “And why do you have that stupid grin on your face?”

“I just noticed the caption, so I’m your man now?”

“Don’t do too much. They’re just lyrics. Relax, my guy.”

“Yeah, right. When are we going to stop playing this game?”

“What game, Yah'?”

“Stop acting like this isn’t more than just a sneaky link now. I’ve been blowing your back out for over four months.”

“And I greatly appreciate it. Why do we have to get into specifics? We have amazing sex. No need to make it more complicated.”

“Are you dating anyone else? I know you better not be fucking anybody other than me, Y/N.”

“I’d hardly call a few dinner dates that haven’t gone past friends, dating. It’s been nothing but innocent, Yah'.”

His jaw ticked at the revelation of you being in the presence of another man’s company.

“For the record, I don’t make a habit of having more than one sexual partner. That’s your thing, not mine.”

“You refuse to let that shit go, huh? I slept with her one time! We had just started whatever this was at the time. I cut her off once I knew this wasn't a one-and-done situation. Who exactly did you go on a date with, sweetheart?”

The question and term of endearment dripped with jealousy. You took a deep breath, preparing yourself for more confrontation. There was no doubt in your mind that the answer would upset him.

“Michael. I know you don’t like him. We just went on two dates. Nothing happened, Yah'.”

He pulled into a seated position on the mattress.

“Out of all these thirsty ass dudes that beg for your attention. He had to be the one you said yes to. How many times have I told you that’s a waste of your time? How do I get you to understand that he just wants to knock you down?”

“Is that not what you’re doing with me?“

“Stop that shit. You know how I feel about you. Your ass doesn't want to hear it because you’re scared. We both know this could be so much more.”

“This is stupid. Why are we arguing? We’re not a couple. This is supposed to be easy and chill.”

“There you go deflecting as usual,” he sighed.

“Do you want me to delete the damn picture, Yahya? It’s the reason this conversation even took place.”

“No, no. Leave it up. You know what? You’re right, love. Lay back down. Let’s just enjoy each other’s company.”

Yahya was the least bit worried about your IG post. It was only for close friends, and he wanted them to wonder. Acting angry was just a means to an end. He had a reason to get his lick back. Now, he had an excuse for what he was planning.

Hearing you went on two dates with Michael sent jealousy coursing through his veins. He made a mental note to keep his enemies closer. Seeing that you were focused on the show, he went to Instagram. Yahya went to Michael’s page and added him to his close friends.

He wanted to see how your friends were reacting to your photo. He pulled up your page and skimmed through the comments. Yahya chuckled at your best friend's comment. In bold letters, she said, “Okay, best friend! I see you! No clue who that is, but get that head in your comfortable bed! Yaaasss👏🏾👏🏾👏🏾. I expect full details and a face reveal when we link tomorrow. I’m tired of all this damn anonymity.” Yahya laughed, knowing that you weren’t giving up any information.

Yahya waited two days before he put his plan in motion. He hit your line, inviting you for a movie night at his place. You were sure the night would end on your back with Yahya between your thighs. Anytime the two of you were alone, your hands always seemed to roam. Every time you two gave into temptation, it would go for rounds. Knowing this, you brought an overnight bag. He knew just how to put you to sleep.

Only twenty minutes into the movie, you were already at the edge of the mattress. Yahya placed you on all fours with your box braids wound tightly around his hand. He tugged at them, pulling you into the most perfect of arches. His free hand crept to the top of his nightstand. You were plunged deep into the throes of passion and hadn’t noticed him pick up his phone. The only light in the room came from the television. Pistoning in and out of your tight walls, he managed to open Instagram. Yahya needed it to be pitch black to pull off his scheme.

“Nobody watching this shit for real, baby. Alexa! Turn off the tv in the master bedroom,” he groaned.

The tv shut off as he pulled out and slammed back into your slick heat.

“Ye-yes. Fuck, baby,” you cried, arching your back deeper.

His face lit up at that. He continued giving slow, deep strokes as he recorded you both in the dark.

Yahya made sure this was for close friends only. With confirmation, he laid the phone on the mattress next to the two of you. He proceeded to put in work, going crazy in your walls. Your sweet, soft, and sensual moans were like music to his ears. You were used to Yahya laying some good pipe, but tonight he was on demon time. This man was trying to tear your walls down and ruin you for any other man.

“Feel me deep in your shit, baby?”

You moaned in response.

He thrust so deep that your hands instantly flew to his abdomen. You tried to push back against his stomach, wanting him to take it easy on you. He growled, binding your wrist with his free hand.

“Move your fuckin’ hands,” he half moaned, half growled. His hand let go of your hair and rained down, smacking and grabbing your left cheek. He slapped the right cheek before burying his digits in your braids again. “I thought you could take all of it, baby? That’s what you begged for. Right, love? Hmm? This ain’t what you wanted?”

You whimpered.

A faint “Please, Daddy” escaped your lips.

“What is it, baby? Use your words.”

“I can-ah!”

“Yes, you can, baby. You gon’ be my good girl, and take it,” he whispered, trailing kisses down your back, fully sheathing himself inside you. His length tapped that spot deep within you.

“Y-yes, baby, I’ll take it, g-give me that di-Yes, Yah'!”

Yahya tapped at your spot repetitively, sending you spiraling. You buried your face in the mattress, clawing at the bedding. Your release approached, barreling toward you like a freight train as you attempted to muffle your screams in the sheets.

“Good. Fucking. Girl. Each word was highlighted with another thrust. “Yeah, come just like that, mama.”

Satisfied with himself, Yahya ended the video and posted it to his stories. He hoped none of your closest friends would recognize your voice. There was only one person he needed to figure it out, Michael. Yahya knew you were going to throw a fit, but so long as nobody could see you. He felt he could get you to be cool with it. Leaning against you, he licked, nibbled, and kissed your shoulder. He was still plunged deep inside you and solid as a rock. Yahya’s lips trailed over to your ear. Releasing a deep groan, he rasped, “Hope you got one more in you, love. Daddy needs to come too. He pulled out until it was just the tip. About to respond, he plunged deep inside, forcing you to gasp. Yahya pulled two more orgasms from your body before spilling inside you.

He made quick work of getting a warm cloth to clean you up. You moaned at the sweet actions of his aftercare. Yahya smirked at how easily it was to turn you on. He swaggered into the bathroom and finished cleaning himself up.

Collapsing into bed, he pulled you closer and pressed his lips against yours. Rolling onto your side, you pushed back against him, making yourself the little spoon. Yahya’s hand crept from your thigh and up the side of your body. His large palm found its destination as it gently cupped your breast. His lips left light kisses on your shoulder and neck.

“You’re always trying to cop a feel,” you sassed, sucking your teeth.

“You know this is my emotional support Titty.”

“Shut up, Yah',” you giggled.

Yahya bit his lip and smirked as he tweaked your nipple.

“Uhn-uh! If you’re going to be on my body like this, your ass needs to behave and sit still. I’m exhausted thanks to your big dick bandit ass,” you teased.

“You know you like that shit,” he responded, tugging at your nipple again.

He pressed his semi-hard erection against you. The action caused your breath to hitch.

“Tell me you don’t want me again, and I’ll let you sleep,” he whispered, nibbling your earlobe.

About to reply sarcastically, you lost your train of thought as he dipped his hand between your thighs.

“You were saying something, love?”

“Fuck, you don’t play fair,” you panted.

“Come here, mama. Want you to ride me.”

Sliding down his length, it became clear you wouldn’t be sleeping anytime soon.

“Yah', baby,” you whined.

“I know, baby. I know. I’m going to make you feel good. Ride me, mama,” he urged, guiding your hips.

Though he had fallen asleep satiated and peacefully, his morning was the opposite. Yahya jolted out of his sleep as he struggled to breathe. You had covered his face with a pillow while chastising him.

“I just know your big-headed ass didn’t record us fucking and post it to close friends! Please tell me my eyes are deceiving me.”

Yahya's hand tugged at the pillow over his face. He snatched the pillow, throwing it across the room. He overpowered you, flipping you onto your back as he smirked.

“What’s wrong? You don’t want your side hoes to find out about me?”

“The only side hoe I have is you.”

“Naw, sweetheart. I’m your main dude. You’re just too stubborn to admit it.”

“Whatever! You better hope nobody recognizes my voice, freaky ass,” you kissed your teeth.

“Oh, I hope they do,” he smiled. “You’re not even mad, for real. I know that shit lowkey turns you on. Listen to those pretty little moans, mama.”

You did your best to bite back a smile but lost. Yahya licked his lips, giving you a million-dollar smile.

“I know I sound good. You ain’t gotta sweat me or nothin’.”

“I should’ve left the lights on while I recorded that shit. Give them something to really talk about.”

“You want to tell people we fuck so bad,” you teased.

“It’s going to come out sooner or later. I’ma make you mine, shortie. You can continue to run from it but in the end. You’re going to be mine.”

Wanting to avoid such a touchy topic, you switched the subject.

“Boy, shut up and feed me. I’m hungry. What’s for breakfast, best friend?”

Yahya smiled devilishly, “This dick.”

“Nasty ass. I want food, Yah',” you whined.

“That’s a whole ass meal, fuck you mean?”

Eyes rolling and smacking your teeth, he laughed.

“I forgot how cranky you can be in the mornings. Let’s get the baby’s tummy full. What do you want to eat, baby girl,” he responded in his best baby voice.

“Can you make french toast and bacon? You make it better than I do,” you asked in a cute tone.

“You know I can’t say no to that voice and face. Come on, spoiled brat,” he teased as he slapped your thigh.

Yahya scooped you from the bed, dangling your body over his shoulder. His hand grabbed a handful of your behind, giving it a loud smack.

“Ouch, Yah'! That hurt,” you whined.

“I didn’t mean to smack it that hard. My bad,” he smirked, rubbing the pain away.

“Lying ass.”

Carting you off to the kitchen, he got you fed and full. Neither of you had anything planned. The two of you spent the remainder of your Sunday binging television and ordering takeout.

When the time came for you to head out, Yahya felt his chest tighten. He was sad to see you leave. If only you two could figure out where to go from here. He’d have you sleeping in his bed every night. Little did you know, your best friend’s feelings for you had existed as long as the friendship had. He just never knew how to tell you. The chemistry and attraction lingered between the two of you. That is, until one drunken night, he did something about it. He fell back on his couch, missing you already, as his mind drifted back to that night.

You were spiraling down a black hole of heartbreak. Yahya came running to offer support and a listening ear to vent to.

His fist balled up, jaw flexing as his memory replayed the image of you opening the door.

Your eyes were bloodshot and glassy as you did your best to keep from crying again. Yahya’s heart sank seeing how distraught you were. He stepped closer to you, and in a low baritone, he said, “Hey, mama.” The sympathy in his soothing voice sent a fresh trail of tears rolling down your cheeks. He sighed as his arms snaked around your waist, pulling you as close as possible. Yahya’s chin rested on your head as you curled into his chest, body trembling as the tears flowed. “You’re going to be straight, mama. I promise I got you,” he soothed, rubbing his hands up and down your back. He gave you a minute or two to let it all out. Releasing you, he bent back, using the pads of his thumbs to wipe your tears. Yahya leaned forward, sweeping you up bridal style. “Let’s get you comfy on the couch. I’ll fix us some drinks and snacks. Then you can tell me everything, alright?” Giving him a faint nod, Yahya kicked the door closed. He made quick work of getting you situated on the couch. Yahya wrapped you in your comfort blanket. Gently kissing your forehead, he whispered, “Be right back, love.”

He called from the kitchen, “Are you in the mood for something light or heavy?”

“This calls for the hard shit. Bring the tequila. I don’t even need a damn chaser. Give me something that will make me forget the last twenty-four hours.”

Yahya strode back into the living room, alcohol in hand.

“What are you about to tell me, love?”

“Maybe you should take a couple of shots first.”

Yahya set the shot glasses and bottle on the coffee table. His hand ran down his face as he took a deep breath, “Am I going to have to beat his ass?”

You sat up straight, dropping the blanket around your waist. Pouring two shots, you answered, “Just promise me you won’t lose your temper.”

“No.”

“Yah', please,” you begged, voice trembling.

“The desperation in your voice tells me that I’m going to regret this, but fine, I promise not to lose my temper. What happened?”

“Drink first.”

Shots were thrown back, and you grimaced, pouring out two more. After the second, you started to pour another round, but Yahya’s hand gently grasped your wrist, “No-.”

A small whimper fell from your lips as his eyes grew. Yahya’s eyes darted from your weary ones down to your wrist. His hands were like lightning as he slid your sleeve up a bit.

“No, fuck that, mama! Is this a bruise?”

“You promised, Yah'.”

“Promises are meant to be broken. Where the fuck is his punk ass at?”

He sprang from the couch, searching his pockets for his keys.

“Where’s he at?”

“No, please, Yahya. You promised! I handled it.”

“Why are you protecting his bitch ass? Has he been putting his hands on you this whole time?”

“I’m not protecting him. I know he’ll press charges against you. It’s not worth it. This is the only time it’s happened, honestly!”

“Don’t lie for him. Tell. Me. Where. He. Is.”

“I’m not lying, Yah'. This is the first time. I handled it, I swear. You should see the side of his face. I smacked the shit out of him.”

“Did he hit you anywhere else,” he asked, checking your face and body for more bruises.

“No, I’m telling you the truth. We were arguing about him getting caught up in his lies and cheating. I told him I was done and that he needed to get the hell out of my house. This dude had the nerve to snatch my wrist, demanding I hear him out. I told him he was hurting me. His response was he didn’t give a fuck. That pissed me off, so I slapped him. He charged at me, and I kicked him in the nuts. How do you cheat on me with a bitch I called a friend and have the nerve to be mad that I no longer wish to be with you? The audacity!”

“I pray he tries to show up while I’m here.”

“He won’t. It’s over, and he understands that now.”

Yahya looked at you, not quite believing it.

“I told his ass if he tried contacting or coming near me again that you’d beat his ass. That or he was going to have a chat with Nina.”

“Thought you didn’t want me to put hands on him. You swear your ass is tough with that baby Glock. Who the fuck puts hot pink on the butt of their gun,” he retorted.

“I don’t want you to, smart-ass, but he knows you would. It was only said to get my point across that I was done with him. Not too much on my baby, Nina.”

Yahya sighed, frustrated that he’d have to keep his promise. He reclaimed his spot on the couch, crossing his arms irritated. You kissed your teeth, “I know you're not mad at me for keeping you out of trouble?”

“It’s whatever. He needs his ass beat, though,” he sulked.

“Just leave it alone, Yah'.”

“I heard you the first time.”

The room grew quiet. It stayed that way for a little while. That was until he heard you sniffling.

“I’m not mad at you, love. I just really want to rock his shit.”

“I know you’re not mad at me. It’s just.”

“What is it, mama?”

“Am I not good enough? Dudes do me dirty, and people I call friends turn out to be grimy. You’re the only person who has always been down for me. I’m so thankful for your years of loyalty and friendship,” you rambled, tears sliding down your face.

Yahya pushed his anger aside, taking a deep breath. His hands reached for your arm, pulling you into him. His palm cradled your head, guiding you to lie against his chest. He kissed your temple, speaking words of encouragement.

“That’s just god's way of making room for the real ones to come into your life, mama. You’re going to be alright, love. You’ll shake back from this. You’re strong, girl. The right man is out there. He’ll love you the way you deserve to be loved.”

As he held you, speaking enlightenment into you. Something shifted inside you. Not quite sure what the feeling was, you shook it off.

“More tequila,” you offered.

The pair of you went shot for shot. It only took a short time for you both to get drunk off your asses. In a drunken stupor, you both laughed as you recounted the numerous times you had to fake a climax with your ex. Yahya was in tears, holding his stomach, laughing uncontrollably.

“This man had to be talked through eating the box. Every. Single. Time. At what point do you finally get the gist of eating pussy? I can’t believe I stayed as long as I did.”

“Why did you stay?”

“The dick was big.”

A hand flew to your mouth, covering your lips, shocked at what you had just revealed.

“Sorry. That was probably too much information. I need to stop drinking,” you slurred, no longer able to look him in the eyes.

Yahya cupped your chin, forcing you to look at him.

“Not too much. That’s some pretty useful information,” he rasped.

Your breath hitched as you looked into his chocolate orbs.

“I don’t follow.”

“That’s what you like, mama?”

Yahya’s hand trailed to your neck. His fingers circled your throat, giving a light squeeze. You knew you should pull away, but your mind and body said two different things.

“Yahya,” you whispered.

“Answer me, mama. That’s what you like?”

You moaned, nodding your head yes. Yahya licked his lips at your response.

“I want to hear you say it, love. Tell me what you like. I want to make sure you understand what I’m trying to say,” he groaned.

The liquor urged you to take it further. You leaned closer, his hand still squeezing your throat. Lips only inches apart, Yahya watched in awe as you answered, breath tickling his lips.

“I love a big, long, thick di-.”

Before you could finish the sentence, Yahya groaned and devoured your lips. Not giving it a second thought, he slid you on top of his lap as your tongues battled for dominance. Hand still placed around your neck, you ground against his lap, loving the groan he released.

“I can see why that was useful information now,” you purred.

It was evident, even inside his jeans, you could feel that he was massively large. You pulled back, slipping your shirt off, dropping it to the floor. His eyes sparkled at the sight of your breast as he cupped them, kissing and suckling your neck.

“Are you sure this is what you want, mama?”

“Yes, I want you, Yah'. Fuck the pain away, please.”

Kissing your lips again, he held you close as he raised from the sofa. Arms wrapped around his neck. You tasted each other's lips as Yahya carried you to the bedroom. The following morning wasn’t even awkward. That’s probably because you woke up with Yahya’s head between your thighs. A serious discussion occurred over breakfast. Though you both decided it probably shouldn’t happen again, time would reveal that it was too late to turn back.

I know I left it on yet another cliffhanger, but that's my specialty😆. I got my lovelies, though. The fic is complete, so slide on over to part two. Before you go, leave a comment and tap the love button. Reblogs are greatly appreciated🫶🏾!

Gif Credit: @abdulmateens, thanks again for allowing me to use it for my mood board💗.

Divider Credit: @firefly-graphics.

Tagging a few lovelies:

@sheabuttahwrites , @moebuttta , @darqchilddaydreamz

@alertyoulikeitsamber , @astoldbychae , @miyuhpapayuh

@sunshine-flower , @nightlywords7 , @4everbrookemarie

@delta7of96 , @novaniskye , @1andonlytashae

@shaolyninferno , @mcdesij , @willadean

@partygetsmewetter-x , @blackerthings , @peachbuttetfly

@theraieinfluence , @honestpreference , @queeniekiy

@tashawar , @skyesthebomb , @captainwithoutmakingitlove

#berberriescorner #nobody's gonna know #part one #daddy yahya #yahya abdul mateen ii #yahya abdul mateen ii fanfiction #yahya abdul mateen ii x black!reader #yahya abdul mateen ii x reader #black writer #black fanfic writer #black fanfiction #yahya fanfiction #yahya fic #yahya abdul-mateen ii fanfic #yahya abdul-mateen ii fanfiction #spotify

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royallyprincesslilly · 1 year

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Title: Forgive Me, I Am A Sinner {1}* {Two-Shot}

Title: Forgive Me I Am a Sinner {1}* {Two Shot}

Someone x Reader

Words: 2.9k

Warning: Play on the church confessional, Cursing, Adult themes, Mild crude language/discussion, Mild NSFW(Toward end), Mistaken Identity

Summary: You have some things to get off your chest and end up walking into a church.

Note: So, this might be mildly taboo for some, if it is for you, don’t read, I’ll understand. While I don’t think I took it too far in someone’s eyes it could be blasphemous. Again, don’t read if you feel it may offend you. Nothing lewd but be warned. Don’t come to me with your complaints. They will fall on deaf ears and be met with a quick delete. I don’t think it’s bad but 🤷🏽‍♀️

***NOT EDITED/Proofread***

-You-

“Forgive me lord for I have sinned. It's been...never since my last confession. I've never done this. Yep, I'm a virgin. Well with confessions otherwise I am soooo not a virgin. The things this body has done, these eyes have seen, these hands have touched, and this mouth has had in it...yikes. Not a virgin. Oh god, I probably shouldn't have said that in a church with a priest across from me. Shit. I probably shouldn't have cursed in the house of God either. Oh, fuck."

You facepalmed then sighed already fed up with yourself. You didn’t know what was wrong with you or why your mouth was still moving and allowing words to pass through. Yes, you were nervous and most of it were nervous ramblings you’d always done but now was not the time to be censor free.

"I'm going to hell, aren't I?”

Silence. There weren’t even breathing sounds. Either there was no one there or the guy across from her was weighing his options speaking to an actual heathen. You leaned a litter closer to the wooden screen peppered with small holes that was separating the two booths.

"Uh...priest guy? Padre? Father? Oh, great even God's messenger sees the heathen in me and has run for the hills to tell the lord this sheep has steered far from the flock. Definitely going to hell."

You hung your head in disappointment.

"For all the scripture that has been written about the heavenly trio, the father, the son, and the holy spirit, I doubt they would be so quick as to damn one of their flock."

You could hear the humor in his voice, and it made you pause. Were priests supposed to have a sense of humor? It did sound like a biblical joke so maybe that wasn’t weird.

"I think you are being too harsh on yourself," the voice on the other side followed up.

"You do?"

"Yes. Also, heathen in quite harsh."

You giggled nervously. However, those nerves were dwindling with every joke he cracked. There was something soothing about his husky voice that sounded like he was half asleep and just awakened from a quick nap. "That is what I feel like whenever I muster up the courage to speak to him about this."

"Start from the beginning."

"Are you sure it's okay for me to be telling you all this in a church nonetheless?"

Silence. Was he actually thinking if it was okay? You circled your thumbs and waited for him to speak but when he didn’t you leaned closer again.

"Hello?"

“You came here because you needed help. You came here looking for answers and acceptance. You will find all 3 here. So, let's begin again. Trust me I've heard it all."

You sighed relieved by his welcoming words. You then nodded and mustered even more courage. "Okay. Forgive me lord for I have sinned I've never confessed before.

"What is your sin?"

"Lust."

The silence stretched for so long then the person on the other side of the screen cleared their throat.

"Lust. Go on. How are you lustful?"

His voice was even deeper than before.

"I like sex--like I really, really like sex. I know the bible leans more on sex for procreation and marital health, but I am not married, and I have no plans for children. So, for me, sex is something that feels good, better than good, amazing especially if it is done right and the person I am with understands a woman's body and needs."

The silence returned but only for a few moments. "Ehm, I'm listening."

"Lately I've been feeling unfulfilled."

"Sexually?"

"Yes, mainly. I have a great career, amazing friends, wonderful family, and a life I love but when it comes to sex it's just not cutting it. The guy I've been seeing..."

"Boyfriend?"

He sounded disappointed and that made you pause. Why would he sound disappointed? You explained it away deciding that he was disappointed in it not being a husband or fiancé.

"You mentioned you were not married just trying to get a better understanding," he clarified.

"Oh. Not really. We see each other whenever we have an--itch."

"For sex. Understood."

"You sound very chill about this father."

"I am simply here to listen and never to judge--my child. This is the house of the lord, and all are welcome to be who they are and lay down their burdens. That is the lord I represent."

He sounded like the cool youth pastor that was written about in some YA novels. The one who would create raps for G.O.D. You stifled a laugh at the thought.

"Wow, that's really cool. Anyway, he's very...vanilla. Whenever we meet--. Wait should I explain what vanilla is? Um...well."

"No need," he quickly interrupted.

"Really?"

"Uh...I am what I am now, but I was not born a priest."

His unexpected answer had you snort loudly before a laugh escaped you. "Well go on then fuck it up, father. Damn no, I didn't mean that."

He heartily chuckled. "It's alright. Go on"

"He's vanilla and never really knows what I need and rarely ever do I cum. I mean reach completion."

"Then why are you wasting your time with someone like that?"

"Uh...well...ummm...I am very picky with who I spend my time with. When I said that I like sex, it didn't mean I was some chick who sleeps around with anybody with the right body part."

"Of course not. I didn't mean to imply that. I'm sorry."

"No, it's cool."

"For the record, I didn't think that of you anyway."

"Okay. Thanks. It's just most guys are insensitive assholes who think if a woman likes sex and pleasure then they must be easy and DTF anyone."

"Guys like that are the ones who should be offed and sent straight to hell."

"Preach it, father.”

It took some time for his words to make full impact, but after a few moments, they did. “Wait shouldn't you say they are also God's children and just need to be steered to the righteous path?"

"You sound well versed in the priesthood."

"Movies."

He laughed again and it sounded so welcoming that you laughed with him.

"Please continue. He doesn't satisfy you."

"No. I thought I could handle it and finish myself off or something but tonight I couldn't."

"Did you just have sex tonight?"

"Yes. I guess that's another sin you have to forgive me for."

"And you are unfulfilled."

"Yes. So unfulfilled. My bullet couldn't even take care of this, not even my rabbit, hell not even the usual porn I watch."

The silence across the way was deafening and you noticed. It was like you’d become hypersensitive to quietness since sitting in this booth. Suddenly he groaned as if in pain.

"Are you okay father?"

He groaned again then took a few breaths. Through the tiny holes in the screen, you could only make out a head turned down, everything else was shadows. "Completely.”

It came out hoarse, strangled. “Ehm...continue.”

"Uh, so I facetimed him and decided to tell him what I need and even some things I would be into, and he laughed and had the most freaked out look on his face. He said it wasn't normal and I shouldn't tell anyone about it again. Like he made me feel crazy and so--dirty."

"Uh-huh. For better context. What are these preferences--my child?"

You twiddled your thumbs then uncrossed your ankles only to cross them again. "I don't know if I should say them now. You might say the same thing."

"No. I would never. Remember I said my place is not to judge and I am here to help?"

You took a deep breath and tried to calm those nerves that were beginning to creep up again. After another breath you began.

"I um...I told him I want to be tied up while he takes all control and completely ruins me. I told him I wanted to try doing it while others watched that him being so gentle is a turn-off and I wouldn't mind some teeth or nail marks on me. I can see myself being into BDSM and get turned on by dominance and submission. I want to be choked a little while he slams so hard into me that I see stars. I want to be weak in the knees unable to walk, sore throat can't talk, eyes full of tears, chin covered in slobber, delirious with pleasure until I squirt and then pass out to do it again. I want him to know my body and what it needs better than I do. I want dirty, nasty, rough, hot passionate sex I'll never forget."

The silence this time was so heavy so filled with the charge of excitement and arousal. You didn't know why you were slightly turned on finally getting it all out, especially to a priest in a church of all places. Hell, you didn't even know why you had come in here in the first place. The idea of confessional had always creeped you out for some reason. Telling a stranger your secret sin. It felt so vulnerable.

"Shit. Surely I should burst into flames for all that right? First in line on the locomotive to hell? I shouldn't have said all that."

"Are you ashamed of these desires? Do you wish to be rid of them?"

"He made me feel ashamed."

"Fuck him. Are you ashamed?"

"Father?"

"Answer me.”

His voice was serious, and authoritative now. “Look inside yourself and answer truthfully."

You did as he said and took some time and truly listened to yourself and everything that was going off inside you right now. Among everything, the uncertainty, the excitement, and the confusion nowhere inside of her did you feel ashamed. Not at all.

"No. I'm not ashamed."

"Do you wish to be rid of them?"

"No," you replied with a little more confidence.

"Good. You should be unapologetically you. You should not allow others to make you feel small or shameful for who you are, what you want, or what you deserve. You deserve all of that. You deserve to be sexually fulfilled and happy in all avenues of your life. We all only have one to live and restricting ourselves from true happiness is not doing service to someone, it does a disservice to ourselves."

You sat there thinking over his words and gained confidence from each of them. He sounded as if he spoke from experience.

"Is this your first day as a priest? I don't think you should tell parishioners to sin more to live a fulfilled life if you truly want to gain access to heaven."

He snorted. "It is my first day doing this, but I stand by my words."

You sat there noting your nerves had melted away and your confused state had turned to one of mellowness. You didn’t feel in a war with yourself anymore. Perhaps this was why others did this.

"Do you feel better?"

"Yes."

"Good, then my work is done."

"Wait shouldn't you give me instructions to repent like a Hail Mary or ten or something?"

"Will it ensure you do not sin again?"

Snorting, you replied, "Probably not."

"Then you are free to step out of here and live your life with one piece of advice."

"What's that?"

"Drop that pathetic loser you're seeing. You can do so much better little lamb."

The doors on the other side opened but you didn't register it until nearly a minute had passed. When you stepped out and looked in the opposite booth from sheer curiosity, it was empty with no priest inside.

"Little lamb? What kind of priest was that?"

~~~~~~~

-Him-

4 hours later and he was still solid as a brick hard.

"Fuck!”

He palmed himself yet again then squeezed hoping to relieve some of the ache there but no luck and no relief. He shoved his hand under his head and stared up through the glass roof of his skylight at the night sky. It was clear without a cloud in sight allowing the stars to really shine.

"I want to be choked a little while he slams so hard into me that I see stars."

His cock throbbed so forcefully it could be seen through his now too tight pajama bottoms. Glancing down, he groaned exasperatedly.

"Come on. It’s not funny anymore."

He knew he shouldn’t have gone into that confessional. He knew he should have found somewhere else to wait for his manager as he spoke with the priest of the church he was donating a large amount of money to because of his connection to some of the kids he'd encountered the weekend before.

He'd gone at that time because he was sure it would be empty and there would be no stray photos of him leaked. Donating money was no fun when everyone knew you'd done it. He liked the incognito life. He just wanted somewhere that had zero chance of him bumping into someone. No way did he expect someone to drop into the other side of the confessional and no way did he expect that someone to have that kind of confession.

He closed his eyes as he recalled the little slivers of her face. Plum painted lips that looked full, a cute nose, skin that looked incredibly soft, and eyes that called to him. From the small perforations in the wood, he would classify you as a fucking goddess.

Once you began your confession he should have interrupted and set the record straight but there was something about your voice that held him in place, silencing him. He’d picked up the distress in it, the frustration and uncertainty. Then the more he listened he fell under some spell. When she mentioned her definite non virgin status, he was way past curious. Maybe that’s what possessed him to answer her when she asked if he was there.

"Curiosity," he muttered mulling over it.

He thought over your entire confession and within seconds his cock throbbed again. Without even realizing it his hand had drifted into his pajama bottoms and was now wrapped around his engorged length.

"Fuck!"

"I want to be tied up while he takes all control and completely ruins me. I wanted to try doing it while others watched, that him being so gentle is a turn-off and I wouldn't mind some teeth or nail marks on me. I can see myself being into BDSM and get turned on by dominance and submission. I want to be choked a little while he slams so hard into me that I see stars. I want to be weak in the knees unable to walk, sore throat can't talk, eyes full of tears, chin covered in slobber, delirious with pleasure until I squirt and then pass out to do it again. I want him to know my body and what it needs better than I do. I want dirty, nasty, rough, hot passionate sex I'll never forget."

"Uggh. Uggh. Uggh. Fuuuuuck."

His hand moved so fast he was sure it was going faster than the speed of light. It had to have been. His groans, moans and grunts filled the space as he raced toward a finish he imagined would go across her beautiful face or her breasts he couldn’t see but was convinced were equally as gorgeous as her aura. Within seconds, his back angled off the bed as if whatever had possessed him earlier was finally exiting his body and being pulled into the air.

"Holy fuck!”

The white spots that decorated his vision made it impossible to see anything and in that moment he didn’t care. He was only focused on the amazing feelings coursing through him. When he finally regained some motion and sense he glanced down and found stream after stream of his release decorating his chest, pelvis, and pajama bottoms.

"Ah shit. Come on! Haven't had to jerk myself off since I was twenty fucking years old, and one confessional tipped me over the edge? Unfuckinbelievable!”

Not in a rush to get up and filled with frustration, he looked back to his skylight at the glittering stars and thought of the side profile of her face. Within seconds, he felt himself harden again and it was then he knew his cock was not done. He was in for a long night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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hearteyes-for-killmonger · 2 years

Text

Boo's Dollhouse

Chapter 1: Pumpkin Bae

Tamera Leigh-Buschall aka Boo was 36 when she inherited 21,545 square feet of Texan mansion from her late husband Larry Buschall. In his will, she was the sole beneficiary. She got it all and his three kids got nothing. No one liked Larry Buschall, he was a self loathing upholder of white supremacy, mean, bitter, and corrupt.. but he was stinkin rich and weak for female company. Boo had to be his nurse, his secretary, and his empty headed porn star. The corporate shark and multimillionaire was 75 when he finally croaked.

Three years living and riding on top of the foul mouthed tyrant funded Boo's self-made business, run out of her home with a team of creative young women in her employment who knew how to have fun while making her a ton of money.

"It's time ladies," she announced to the lounging women in her budoir. "Move out. Our first customer of the day has arrived."

Boo wouldn't tell them who it was for the sake of client anonymity, only that he was male and paying for a complete experience. Only Boo and the chosen sex worker could know the identity per NDA.

Boo and her security team were the only ones standing at the front door waiting, Boo wearing a pumpkin head with two mimosas in hand, one for herself and one for the client.

The shiny black rolls royce rolled into the driveway and parked near the front door of the mansion with Shawnee, the black-suited driver walking around to open the back door. Out stepped the 6'3 slim yet athletic frame of a man in a light grey jogging suit, green socks, and sneakers with a Scream mask overlapping awkwardly with his hoodie. The fall morning air was nippy and orange leaves blew on the stone path. He made it to the door and accepted the glass.

"Boo?"

"Ahh! ..Come in."

He snorted and she stepped back allowing him to take in the festive trappings of the foyer decorated by her and the dolls themselves while she sipped her mimosa. It was gothic chic and Hollywood classic horror opposed to Party City. Still, they had to keep the webs stretched across the walls and signature black spiders. There were arrangements of black burning candles and black lanterns. The entire place smelled feintly of vanilla. He turned to the skull full of complementary condoms and the trick or treat bucket of candy and mints, looking back for permission. A proper southern gentleman.

"Help yourself!"

Boo shuffled in her fuzzy pink slippers to a folded leg position on the living room couch. It was a waiting room she used to further interview clients in a comfortable manner. 9:30 AM was entirely too early to start off with a tour. The girls deserved a little grace, space, and time to get their bearings.

"Talk now, tour later," she patted on the couch for him to sit. He sat.

"Oo.. this is good," he frowned from his first sip of fresh mango pineapple mimosa. He had to lift the bottom of the mask to drink. "Nice pumpkin head," he gestured wide.

"Like I like it. The head gotta be big." She picked up her appointment book. They hadn't set a time for him to leave the premises which meant he could stay and spend money. She turned to a listing of the girls by photo and showed him the two-page spread of glamour shots. "So what's ya type?"

"Damn. Already? Well I always say the blacker the berry..." That ruled out the Israeli girl, the Puerto Rican, and the Korean. "Preferably slim thick," his hands curved. That ruled out a few more. "Athletic. Long hair," he stared at Boo's photo. She watched him through the eye slits in her pumkin head. "Real tall.. WNBA Tall."

She clapped the book closed. "You tryna fuck me?"

"All five foot ten inches."

"Ooh," she whispered leaning in. He smelled like Tom Ford. He'd done his smell good routine and was ready. "Say less I've seen Watchmen." She popped up not spilling a drop, her drink raised high. She pulled him by the front of his grey hoodie. "Don't spill nothing on my floor.. Have you had breakfast?"

"Not yet, I could eat. Where all the women?"

"Enjoying their morning, you'll see some of them when I give you the tour."

Boo lead the 6'3 client up one of the two grand staircases toward her entertainment suite. This was a dim and elegantly designed room with gothic glam touches. A squared stage was on the far wall decorated like a pumpkin patch with a pole in the middle. A nook with a fullsize bed was to the left as well.

"Look at that," he pointed at the large jack-o-lantern with smoky fog coming from its gaping mouth. She closed the door and sat him at a short dining table and matching southern gothic style chair placed adjacent of the stage.

"Interested in some hookah, Yahya?"

"Definitely."

She offered a selection while she made a call to the kitchen. The Ghostface mask was finally off and in his lap as he smoked the area into a cloud, getting loose like he was at a warm cafe.

"I feel like I'm in a gentleman's club," Yahya exhaled, smoke rising up. "I feel like a king." Boo's hand swept his cheek and held his face sucking up smoke in a shotgun that left him staring.

"You are. Enjoy yourself. Let me handle everything."

He closed his eyes and let the clouds overtake him while he rested. When kitchen delivered, Boo sat the plate of pancakes with banana and creme fraiche in front of her client and watched his deep brown eyes alight with childlike satisfaction.

His senses were being engaged and to a playlist of Brent Faiyaz and Giveon. She left her slippers and took the stage, twirling in her pink satin pj's around the centered pole in a fluid, consistent, and practiced manner while he hummed and moaned enjoying gourmet pancakes and soothing hookuh unrushed. There was no reason for Boo to rush, the cashier was trained as a receptionist and the next client wasn't scheduled until 12.

Yahya watched Boo carefully as she danced, her mile long legs like a stretch of highway on display for his eyes only. He followed her stems all the way up to the sexiest parts concealed by her short shorts. It was left for him to imagine and he loved not seeing it off the bat. Especially when she stretched and put her leg up by her head, it sent blood to the organ between his thighs.

Legs were his weakness. Her long slender legs teased him with their fit and athletic feminine nature. She kept up with her workouts and worked for those legs. They were shiny, hairless, and free of blemish. Her calves were shapely and in good proportion. When she stood on her toes the gentle toned musculature was apparent. It wasn't too much. There was something about a beautiful and slim fit woman's legs to Yahya. They were sensual in a subtle way, sneaky in their appeal. Only other leg men would truly appreciate what he was seeing and understand why he preferred super tall slim thick women. He could feel the blood rushing to his growing erection and he blew his smoke at the stage enjoying his private dance.

A classically trained ballerina on a pole, Boo was smooth and at ease in a zone working through a comparatively low intensity routine under the music.

"Bravo," he blew.

She ran with his fetish, surrounded by fog and flexing the length and strength of her legs, doing scissor sits and jamilas. She mixed in her carousels, knee spins, and sunwheels.

"Magic City," he muttered.

She remained upright to keep her pumpkin head on, semi blinded, but strong in muscle memory. He chuckled when she paused her spins to work in a low pulsing twerk on beat.

"I know you dance, Cadillac."

"Girl... Don't start me up."

She glanced back invitingly.

Yahya was on the stage of pumpkins in seconds isolating his hips on rhythm. He sat her pumpkin head among the others, lifting her chin. Between her beauty, her body, and the way she moved it was no wonder the old sugar daddy left her everything.

He sandwiched her between two poles, the one she swung on and the one in his lap, slow grinding to Loose Change.

"Big maaan," she smiled feeling his lips on her ear and his full and sensitive hard-on pressed against her.

"Mhm." He became a leach on her kneck, his hand in her shorts grabbing the fat cat with his manicured middle fingers inside. "You like my hand around your neck baby?"

"Mm, yess," she moaned in bliss feeling him choke her. She threw her hands over his neck and relaxed letting him bring her to orgasm.

When he picked her up with ease, she wrapped her long feminine and statuesque legs around his waist gripping him until he placed her on the bed. She flipped onto her stomach and arched letting him peel away away at the layers.. her pj shorts and cartoon jack-o-lantern panties.

It was his turn to strip taking it all off until he was leaning nude on the bed, fresh clean and well man-scaped.

His tongue went up her thigh finding it butter smooth, supple and firm. He replaced her panties with kisses on her cheeks which were smooth and perfectly round like a peach with a healthy youthful bounce. He stuck his face between using his thumb to rub her labia open and her clit while she held her own cheek back. His tongue did the rest.. long sweeping strokes and gentle sucks with extra saliva that nearly made her extend his hour with her just to keep getting this tier of head. She didn't have time.

"Come show me what that dick do or does it hang to decorate your balls?"

He ripped open a blue condom he pulled from the skull and covered his length, rubbing the tip on her clit, sliding up and inside.

She drove her ass back, swallowing his length and bouncing off his hips. He fucked her back. The bed began to tremble with their force. Their bodies collided. Boo planted her elbows and threw her lower half on rhythm to the music.

"Fuck this pussy back. Fuck this pussy back."

He grabbed her by her hair ready to make her see stars, but again no time. She pushed him off, pulling him beneath her as she put a leg over his shoulder to fuck him from on top, bouncing while his toes curled and his eyes squeezed shut. The bed continued to shake to the degree that it didn't seem normal. They both felt it, like an earthquake, but Boo ignored it. She turned and squatted to a reverse cowgirl position, bouncing some more until he conceded with a long hiss. She blew on two imaginary guns and reholstered them. His time was up and he was swallowing like he needed water. She didn't have the time to give him another hour to manhandle her like he wanted, she had to clean up and prepare for 12. Plus, there was still the tour.

"Stay there, don't move."

Her coffin-nailed finger stopped him in his tracks. All clients were spoiled with a fluffy hot towel and soapy wipedown. She pulled him up to his feet and dressed him in a clean white terrycloth robe, new white socks, and his Scream mask. She herself wore the second terrycloth robe with her slippers.

She called her live in maid to tidy up the room, folded his sweatsuit, and handed it to him then escorted him through her Houston mansion excluding her personal wing where she slept and did her personal business. She showed him the kitchen, the various common rooms. A picture fell.. the picture she'd hung to replace the commissioned portrait of the late Larry Buschall. He loved his damn picture there and every day Boo looked at it she wanted it gone. When he died she replaced it with something visually attractive, a piece of art that matched her decor. She looked at the picture on the floor, rolled her eyes, and kept leading Yahya to the theatre room which boasted twenty generous seats and a big screen with surround sound.

"Who left the speakers on," she sighed when they both heard the feedback.

In the wine cellar, she poured him a splash of her favorite 1992 vintage red wine for taste. She was right to think he'd appreciate it.

Next to show him was the dance hall, the gym, the basketball court, and the grotto-style swimming pool. He took his robe and mask off handed it to Boo to get a running start. She watched him cannonball into the deep water with a big splash and climb back out, running soaked and grinning like a child.

"We wild baby! We FERAL!"

"Boy put ya mask on!" She redressed him like a mama, fixing the robe on him. His socks were soaked through. "Look at you, follow me."

She led him to the shower room and left his clothes with him so he got the hint. He came out fifteen minutes later dressed and grabbing at her waist.

"What do you say we go for a spin on the dance floor. I'll teach you some new moves."

"We still got one more place to visit sir."

"Excuseee me," he smiled.

She brought him to the register.

"This is where I show you your total."

It was a place where he could get a look at his bill so it wouldn't be a surprise when they took his money. She watched him read over the itemized receipt. Hookah session, breakfast, and an hour in Boo's suite at Boo's rate which was the highest rate of all the dolls.

Yahya looked at the number and nodded retracting the comment that never left his lips. The service was worth the dollar amount. She smiled. "Come back anytime."

"Now," he smirked.

"Baby a bitch is busy running a business, try next week, Tuesday if you're looking for soon." She adjusted his hood over the black fabric of his mask. He followed her back to the front of the house and lingered for a minute. She pulled him by his hoodie strings and rubbed his chest through the fabric. "You're welcome back. Just make sure you don't forget me.."

She backed him out of the front door and the black Rolls Royce waiting. "I'll think of you!" Boo blew a kiss.

Shawnee closed Yahya in and he was still looking back wistfully at the house as the car drove away to drop him back at his own car.

Finally she could focus on getting ready for the 12 o'clock client and she could get some brunch.

"How was it," Kitty came around the corner in black lingerie and heels, being noisy.

"Y'all can come out," Boo turned watching a group of women come from hiding.

"I was waiting, I thought he was gonna choose me or Honey," Angel collapsed on the white sitting room cushion jumping at the disembodied voice that wretched at her.

"Get yo goddamn monkey feet off my seat ya pie-faced nappyheaded semon demon. Ain’t ya mammy never taught ya ta respect furniture that ain't yo's. In here acting like a damn fool.. ALLA' YAS!"

"Shut UP," Boo scowled. "'Fore I start burning shit.. And I like this couch.."

Angel laughed. The girls had gotten used to the ghostly outbursts of old nasty Larry Buschall. He was all bark and no bite post-mortem. If a customer heard it, the dolls knew what to do. They'd pass it off as a speaker or a prank. No one in the house was truly afraid.

"Now I'm going to eat and I better not hear nothing else," Boo bitched the air with her finger. "..That's what the fuck I thought," she muttered.

@dashhoney25 @lettidarawest @soufcakmistress @ljstraightnochaser @princessstevens @eye-raq @thiccdaddy-mbaku @destinio1 @iamrheaspeaks @hidden-treasures21 @bidibidibombaclaat @forbeautyandlife @blowmymbackout @misspooh @thotyana-in-this-hoe @localtrapgod @purplehairgawdess @thegucciwaffle @miyuhpapayuh @harleycativy @goddessofthundathighs @theegoldenchild @nobodybaby93 @ladymac82

#original #yahya abdul mateen #yahya abdul mateen ii #yahya fanfiction #black fanfic writer #black fanfiction

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thefantasyride · 5 months

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I need Yahya smut to read during my holiday weekend. Reply with the story links and I'll be sure to reblog them as always. 🤝🏾

#yahya abdul-mateen ii #yahya fic #yahya fanfic #yahya fanfiction #yahya abdul-mateen II x oc #yahya abdul-mateen II x reader

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cancerianprincess · 2 years

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Sooo..

Where dem fics at tho 🙂🥹?

oh nun much, just here for my nightly dose of serotonin and dissociation 🙂🫠👍🏽

#oh nun much #just here for my nightly dose of serotonin 🥲👍🏽#black panther #black panther 2 #black panther fanfic #yahya abdul mateen ii #erik killmonger x oc #erik killmonger

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scaryspears · 4 months

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Twilight Fancasts of Main Cast + Opinions

This is mostly based on my last Twilight fancast post I made, which was just Bella, Edward and Jacob. I've decided to think of more actors to add in the mix, might have to make separate posts for all the characters, though.

Bailey Bass as Bella Swan

Jun Shison as Edward Cullen

1. If bro can play a kitsune in a human's body I'm pretty sure he can pull off Edward. We just need to know if Jun Shison speaks English.

2. Also, Edward needs to be an evil dick just because of vampire reasons. He needs to be mysterious and in a good way, not the way the movies portrayed him awkwardly.

Dakota Beavers as Jacob Black

Don't make him cut his hair, and he needs to be Native American.

Also, get rid of the whole imprinting thing if they're just going to make it gross.

Julia Rehwald as Alice Cullen

I read short hair and small frame, and I thought of her.

Evan Rachel Wood as Rosalie Hale

I found out she was around 16 when playing Tracy from Thirteen, which might make this fancast iffy since I'm using her teenage self for the gif, considering the other actors I fancasted are 18+. But I remember watching the film and thinking that she looked like she would make a great Rosalie, which is ironic since Nikki Reed also starred in Thirteen. I know she's quite old, but I think we should find a look-a-like that looks like her younger self.

Tanner Buchanan as Jasper Hale

1. I was trying to find handsome but creepy blond actors. Wasn't really able to find any, so bare with this. I think Tanner could manage being mysterious and creepy.

Chosen Jacobs as Emmett Cullen

1. I remember reading some human version fanfics of the main characters, and in some of them Emmett would be Bella's older - and sometimes twin - brother. With that in mind, if Bella's black/mixed, then Emmett is too because why not?

Antony Star as Carlisle Cullen

1. I think Carlisle's human body should be older, and thus also be played by an older actor. I know Antony Star doesn't have those same vibes that Carlisle does, but he does give off a stern exterior when playing Homelander in some scenes, and I wanna see that is Carlisle.

Emmy Rossum as Esme Cullen

1. I don't know what to think of Esme other than the fact that I know that she's taller than Bella and randomly gave some info that she lost her baby very soon. I figured she was older when she was turned, just like I envisioned for Carlisle, but somewhat looks very young (I mean, a person is still young even if they're in their thirties).

Wood Harris as Charlie Swan

1. I'm looking for old head vibes. Man from the old hip hop vibes. "Guy that listens to Tupac regularly" vibes.

2. Also, let Charlie be a temporary supernatural hunter that protects Forks.

Zahn McClarnon as Billy Black

Chace Crawford as James

James is described to be very plain looking, despite the fact that he had the vampirism that was supposed to make him look more appealing, so I was thinking about The Deep whilst reading the book.

Yahya Abdul-Mateen II as Laurent

I think Edi Gathegi really stood out as Laurent, more dark skinned villains please.

2. Since Laurent is hinted to come from thanks to his accent I decided to pick an actor that is from New Orleans. I don't know why, I just decided to. Maybe I memorised some kind of misinformation about there being French speakers, I don't know.

3. If they really do make a Twilight remake and they toss Laurent to the side I'm actually gonna be so mad, because Laurent's appearance was promising, and then they chose James' boring arse.

Sophie Skelton as Victoria

I loved Rachelle Lefevre's performance as Victoria, so I want that same vibe of "seemingly innocent but clearly has a hidden agenda/motive". I know it's been a while since she's been in any films (from what I know), but I think she can pull it off. Since Laurent is hinted to be French I think it would be great that they let her be British when playing Victoria. (There's no they, but play along.)

#twilight fancasts #native americans #native american jacob #Asian Edward #Edward is partially Japanese if not half #Black Bella Swan #Biracial Bella Swan #Black Charlie Swan #Black Emmett Cullen #Victoria twilight #James twilight #Laurent twilight

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bakarilennox · 2 years

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Tracey’s Birthday Fic-a-Thon!

Hi everybody! I never did this before so excuse how lackluster this post looks.

For those who don’t know, I’m turning 15+16 on July 17th. I was wondering… if you have time of course, would write a some feel-good (or feel-angst) one shots, head cannons, or drabbles about some of my favorite men (& women) candy that I write or blog about.

Names include, but not limited to:

Lewis Tan:

Yahya Abdul-Mateen II:

Precious Lee:

Trevante Rhodes:

Monster Woo:

Jimin:

Chris Evans:

Winston Duke:

Henry Cavill:

(I had to give faces to names, sorry)

[Keep Reading]

I will list a few prompts and you can start there or freestyle, whatever floats your boat. I prefer romantic smut fics, but they don’t have to be. Just tag them as #ABirthdayFicforTre.

Prompts:

“I’m only baking a cake, what can go wrong?” *Everything goes wrong*

A birthday evening that turns into an wedding proposal

Birthday Baecation/Friendcation

“Surprise! Aye, where your clothes at?”

Karaoke night “Please stop singing for the love of God.”

“I made you a mixtape/playlist.”

Romantic walk on the beach

“Come get your cat!”

“Excuse me miss, I believe you stole my heart. May you please return it.”

Birthday massage

“I’ll help you with wash day babe.”

“I don’t want to go out, let’s stay in and cuddle.”

“I bought this and thought of you.”

“I was browsing online and I found this story you wrote about me.”

“I’m glad that I’m here with you.”

Indoor Nerf gun fight

The love interest’s dog leads them to my dog

“I’m only cooking dinner, what can go wrong?” *Everything goes wrong*

“Hey I’m lost, can you help me find where [whatever place you choose] is?”

Birthday shopping spree

“C’mon, let me do your makeup. It’ll look good I promise.”

Found log dog, returns it to the love interest/future friend

Love interest/ friend hears me singing in the shower and joins in

“I can take all the groceries in one trip, don’t worry.”

Loses phone at the park, love interest/future friend finds it & returns it to you.

“I love everything about you.”

“I know that you didn’t want anything for your birthday, but I got this for you!”

“Wanna watch a scary movie?”

“Your mom said I’m invited to the cookout so that’s why I’m here.”

With best friend at a sports game and the kiss cam comes and we kiss. We secretly crushed on each other.

Birthday pool party and Love interest/friend shows up unannounced.

Whatever you want. (except i*cest, race play, use of slurs, etc.) Just be respectful basically.

This is open to everyone, but I’m tagging the people that I often see write fics so if you wanna join, I’d love it! And I am all about no pressure, so submit when you can and shoot me a message/tag whenever. 😊

Tags: @royallyprincesslilly @tgigoldie @yaachtynoboat711 @randomwordprompts @muse-of-mbaku @cecereads209 @sheabuttahwrites @kittehkwrites @crushed-pink-petals-writes @ingeniousmindoftune @stargirlfics @celestianstars @pm-my-hubbies @liquorlaughslove @laketaj24 @fumbling-fanfics @natashacoco & whoever sees this.

Thanks in advance for making this the best birthday ever! 🥳😁

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megamindsecretlair · 2 months

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Runaway Lover, Part 2

Pairing: Professor!Big Stunna x Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. SMUT. ANGST. PWP, cursing, PIV, oral (female receiving) teasing/mocking, size kink, dirty talk, praise kink, possession kink, all consensual. Power imbalance.

Summary: After learning that Stunna is your teacher, you must drop the class. When you're unable to, you try to break things off with Stunna. Only it doesn't go so well.

Word Count: 6,067k

Part 1 | Part 3

A/N: Everybody say thank you @melaninpov. The responses to this fic was overwhelming! I love ya'll so much! Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! And please put ages in bios! Or get blockt!

Taglist: @planetblaque @blackerthings @browngirldominion @we-outsiiiide @thecookiebratz @iv0rysoap @notapradagurl7 @sevikasblackgf @miyuhpapayuh @xo-goldengirl @kindofaintrovert @flydotty @judymfmoody @slippinninque @soufcakmistress @henneseyhoe @westside-rot @melaninpov @twocentuar @blackpinup22 @babybratzmaraj @theyscreamsannii @kiabialia @thedonsfactory @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @nworbaij @hopefulromantic1 @lesbiantreehugger @longpause-awkwardsmile @badassdoll @kholdkill @blackpinup22 @cardi-bre91 @blowmymbackout @jay-mach @sageispunk @yourofficialgal

You wanted to throw up. You wanted to disappear. You wanted to jump out of your skin and never look back.

To his credit, Stunna - you refused to call him by his real name - continued on with his spiel, effectively ignoring you. The only thing you could think of was how good he felt. How good he smelled. Those sweet and filthy words he whispered in your ear while he was playing with your pussy. While he owned you. While he seemed to reach inside you and yank out your soul. He stole the damn thing back in Punta Cana and now here he was. In your city. In your school.

Your anxiety twisted your gut into painful knots that no amount of breathing exercises could fix. You felt as if you had a scarlet letter on your chest. Could anyone tell? Would anyone know?

You tried to cast your eyes around the room, but there were only the bored looks on everyone’s faces. There were some people checking him out. You didn’t blame them. The man was gorgeous. And the chocolate outfit was so sexy against his dark skin. You wished he was wearing his grills as well. That would ruin you.

You slumped in your seat and looked everywhere but at him. You needed to drop this class. You needed to escape. There was no way that you could spend the next four months staring at that piece of art and not fail the class. Or want to leap over everyone and jump his bones.

You knew what those hands could do. You knew what filthy images he could conjure with his mouth. His deep voice was sinful and you spent a glorious Saturday getting to listen to him speak, laugh, or tell jokes.

You couldn’t do this. But fear kept you glued to your seat. You could not get up in front of everyone and walk out where everyone could see. And what would Stunna do? Ignore you? Chastise you? Tell you sit your ass back down?

There was only so much he could do without turning awareness to the fact that you knew each other already. The last thing you could afford was a scandal. You’d end up in a newspaper somewhere. Or worse. On the news. You pictured them finding an embarrassing photo of you from the gram and blasting it nationwide.

The headlines would write themselves. No. You did not need that type of negativity and you were not prepared to do that to Stunna either. So you endured. You waited. You avoided looking at him but you couldn’t close your ears.

You focused on breathing. You daydreamed. You did anything you could not to focus on how those pants fit his long frame. His ass looked magnificent. The sleeves of his sweater were rolled up to reveal his forearms.

His eyes caught you staring and he fumbled in his speech. He recovered quickly, going over his syllabus for the class. How it was important to show up because he was the type to challenge thinking. He wasn’t going to be a stuffy professor, or at least he wouldn’t try to be.

You heard a soft sigh to your left. You turned to the sound. There was a woman next to you with pale skin and strawberry blonde hair. She looked at Stunna as if he hung the moon.

You didn’t blame her but there was a surge of jealousy. You wanted to tell her to look somewhere else because he was fucking taken. The realization that he did not belong to you was like a bucket of ice water down your back. You turned your attention back to Stunna as he told everyone to introduce themselves.

You fought off a groan. If possible, you would sink further into your seat. You hated when professors did this type of shit. Couldn’t they get to know people some other way? In this day and age of technology, how hard was it to print pictures and names and study it like they made students study for an exam?

Stunna parked his sexy ass on the edge of the desk in the corner of the room. He had an iPad in his hand and he seemed to be jotting notes after each student said their name and a hobby of theirs.

When it was your turn, Stunna said your name. You took a deep breath and recited your name. You drew a blank on any and all hobbies you ever partook in. “I like to travel,” you finally said.

Stunna smirked and nodded. “Any interesting places?” He asked.

You bit the inside of your cheek. “I just came back from the DR, actually,” you said.

Stunna nodded. “Very cool! Now, let’s see…” He looked down at his iPad and called the next person but he still had that smirk on his face. You needed to get out. You needed away. He could not make light of the fact that you knew each other. Knowing fuck well it could jeopardize not only you, but his teaching credentials.

Soulmate or not, you were not going to let him throw away his career. The rest of the class went by while you slowly died inside. Stunna introduced some of the books he wanted to read and discuss for the next few months.

As soon as he dismissed the class, you were the first one out of the door. You didn’t think he tried to call after you, but you didn’t give him the chance to. You flew out of the classroom, out of the building, and made a beeline towards the Admin building.

You ran up the steps, lungs burning as you raced across campus. You had a runaway thought that life didn’t seem quite so dull considering that Stunna was in your neck of the woods. But you squashed that. Nothing could happen as long as he was your teacher.

You went up the elevator and got off on the floor with your academic counselor. You made it to his office and knocked on the door. Mr. Sullivan pushed his glasses from his face and looked up with a smile. He was a sweet, if aloof, man who seemed to phone in his work rather than take any joy in it.

“How is the first day of classes?” He asked. He smiled politely, but there was a look in his eye as if he was trying to place you.

“I need to drop a class. Or get a different class?” You sat down in front of Mr. Sullivan’s desk and clutched your backpack to your chest. You didn’t want to look at your phone. You didn’t want to see missed calls or texts from Stunna. There was nothing to discuss until you had all your cards on the table.

Mr. Sullivan’s thick eyebrows drew down as he woke up his ancient computer. He typed around and hummed as he did so. Your leg bounced a mile a minute as he looked up something on it.

“Forgive me, what’s your name and student number?”

You told him, repeating it over and over because you were talking too fast for him. Once he got your information, he was back to humming as he searched. “Now, which class do you need to drop?”

You rolled your neck and told him, again, what you needed done. He nodded and went back to clicking around. There couldn’t be that many literature classes at this fucking school.

“Oh, dear,” he said.

“What does that mean?” You asked. You chewed on your bottom lip. You fought everything in here to jump over the desk and use his computer to drop the class.

Mr. Sullivan shook his head. “I’m afraid it’s too late to drop the class,” he said.

“What? What about the first week's grace period?”

“Usually, yes, you would have the option to switch classes. In your case, however, every literature class at your level is currently full. Perhaps you can check back in at the end of the week and see who starts switching around. Although, you do need this class in order to qualify for your major. I would not suggest dropping it and trying to make it up next year. Six classes are difficult for any student…”

He began to drone on and on about preventing burn out, protecting mental health, whatever else his nasally voice could conjure up. You tuned him out as his words replayed over and over. You were stuck with the class. Or you’d have to try and take six next semester. You could do it, you had no doubt about it. But you shouldn’t have to.

Your last year was your last hurrah before you had to think about what you wanted to do with your major. If you wanted to do grad school or not. You could do a summer class but now was the time to think about internships.

You sighed and sat back in your seat. Hope was cruel. Hope was spiteful and evil. You had your hopes up that Mr. Sullivan would be able to help you but he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t save you.

The melancholy this time around sat on you like a ton of bricks. You hadn’t expected to find Stunna on your trip. You hadn’t expected to fall so fast for him. You had your entire life to find someone, true, but you already found your perfect person. Written in the stars for you. Made for you. And now this.

“Now of course, there are some classes offered in the summer for a summer term. But…”

“That’s alright, Mr. Sullivan. I’ll stay in this one. Thanks,” you murmured. You left his office, let the next kid come in and bug the old man, as you left the Admin building. This shit fucking sucked.

You finally fished your phone out of your pocket. As expected, there were missed calls and desperate texts from Stunna.

Stunna: Please, talk to me.

Stunna: Please

Stunna: I didn’t know! We never talked about it.

Stunna: At least let me know you’re alive??

Each text hurt your heart worse. You could feel his desperation, no matter how far apart you were physically. It felt as if his heart was calling towards yours. Connected on some plane you couldn’t see. The last text from him was an address.

Stunna: Please, meet me tonight. Just to talk.

Yeah, right. If you went to his place tonight, you’d do more than talk. Your attraction to him was that strong. That powerful. You knew you needed to talk to him if you were going to stay in his class. You were both adults. You could keep your hands off of each other, right?

Later that night, you met up with Angela and Stella back in the dorm you all shared. They could tell that something was wrong with you but you couldn’t begin to describe it. Every time you tried, the words dried in your throat. Wilting like old flowers.

“Girl, damn. What happened between you and that guy?” Stella asked.

“Did he hurt you?” Angela asked right after.

“It’s fine,” you said. Your leg was back to bouncing. Despite your earlier protests, you needed to talk to Stunna. Meeting at his place wasn’t the smartest move. But what was the alternative? Anywhere you met publicly, you worried that anyone would read it all over your face. You’d be just as obsessed as the girl in your class.

“It’s not fine. If he hurt you, run me his name. I’d beat that mu’fucka up!” Stella said. She held up her tiny fists and shadowboxed in the living room.

You giggled and shook your head. “I promise he didn’t hurt me. He was the perfect gentleman,” you said. Even while he was in your guts, he was still sweet afterwards. He knew exactly what you needed.

“Then what the hell is going on?” Angela asked.

“Right? I feel like we should have told her to look the other way,” Stella said.

“How could we? That man was so damn fine!” Angela said.

“All of them were! Like where the hell they grow them at?”

The sisters went back and forth talking about Stunna and his friends. They were right. All of them were fine. But Stunna was different. Smooth skin, neat beard. Tall as a tree. He checked every last one of your boxes. Smart, funny, cultured, traveled, well read.

You were in trouble. You were standing on the train tracks watching the train approach with lights on, horn blaring, and you couldn’t make yourself move. Didn’t want to move, truth be told.

The time to meet Stunna grew closer. You felt it like the swing of a pendulum. You kept checking your phone. You hadn’t answered Stunna and he hadn’t sent anything else after his address and plea for you to come over.

Before it got too late, you told the sisters that you would go to the library to see if they had the books you needed for class. Anything to avoid having to go to the student store to purchase the books you’d only need once. They continued to talk and watch TV, content to still recover from the trip.

You went to your room, closed the door, and let the panic overtake you. You tore through your closet trying to find an outfit that screamed that this was casual. You were not trying to look pretty for the man.

Jeans seemed too casual. A skirt seemed too suggestive. Romper seemed too out of place. You were thinking too much about it. And you were stalling. You sighed and chose a dress. It still seemed too suggestive, but dresses could be casual. It was whatever. It was no big deal.

You got dressed and left the dorm, heading across campus and off site. There were campus-owned apartments here and you quickly walked, hoping to avoid trouble. The air was cool, almost cold, and there was a light breeze that made trees sway.

In your haste to leave, you forgot a jacket. Stupid. Stupid just like your decision to hike to his apartment up the block. Your feet carried you there anyway and soon you were outside of his door, knocking on it.

A second later, Stunna opened the door. He changed out of his outfit for the day. He wore gray sweatpants and a black tank that highlighted his amazing physique.

God took his time with this one.

There was no doubt about it. You were momentarily struck dumb, openly staring at his body.

“You wanna come in?” His deep voice shook you from your filthy thoughts.

You smiled and giggled nervously. He stepped back and you went inside. The place was like any other standard apartment. White walls, bright hardwood floors that had seen better days, with a small kitchen and bar area.

He had boxes lined up against the wall. Some were open and some weren’t. He was still in the middle of moving in, but he had a linen couch and recliner, coffee table, and a flat screen TV with a football game playing.

He crossed the room and put it on mute. He wiped his hands on the back of his sweats, calling attention to his glorious ass. You clasped your hands in front of you lest the traitorous things do something rash, like smack his booty.

“I was hoping you’d come.”

“I didn’t think I was going to,” you admitted. You felt silly standing in the middle of his living room but you didn’t want to sit down and get comfortable either.

“I’m glad you did. Now I wish we would’ve at least discussed where we were from. When you said you were starting classes, I just didn’t think that it would be possible you’d be in my class,” he said.

You groaned and rubbed your temples. “I tried to drop the class today,” you said.

A flash of hurt ran across his features before he turned to the TV. A moment later, his features were schooled and he nodded. “That’s probably for the best,” he said.

“I couldn’t drop it. It was too late. Everyone else was full and if I wait till next year, I’d be working overtime to pass all my classes,” you said.

Stunna just stared at you across the gap. You played with your fingers, tapping the tips to keep you grounded.

“I don’t like this,” he said. He gestured towards the couch. “Please, come sit. I won’t bite.” He grinned at the end of his sentence and you rolled your eyes, fighting off a grin. He was so damn corny.

You stepped closer anyway, feeling better with each step towards him. You didn’t like being that far away from him either. You sat down, smoothing your blue dress over your legs so that you wouldn’t give him the wrong impression. Maybe jeans would have been better. You definitely needed pants right now.

You felt the heat of Stunna’s attention on your legs, but you clasped your hands over your lap and kept your legs firmly closed, no matter how awkward or painful it was because of your thick thighs.

Stunna sat on the edge of the cushion, legs spread wide and taking up so much room that his knee almost brushed yours. His knee may as well have been a raging fire. This was insane right? To feel so intensely for a stranger?

Stunna didn’t feel like a stranger, that was the problem. He felt like you had known him all your life and you were only remembering your time together. It was surreal and you had no frame of reference for something like this.

“So you can’t drop the class. And I just got hired so I can’t drop it either,” he said.

“Nope,” you said, emphasizing the P.

“We didn’t imagine our connection in Punta Cana. It felt like I was dying when you walked away,” he said.

“Don’t say that,” you said. You sighed and refused to look at him.

“Don’t tell you the truth?” He asked.

“We can’t do anything about it! You’re…my teacher,” you said.

“I’m not suggesting we do anything about it. I’m just…I’m saying that we can’t ignore this. I just found you,” he said. He tilted his head so that he could catch your eyes. You looked up at him and melted.

He was so damn cute that it hurt. It physically hurt you that he looked that way, smiled that way, and all of his attention was focused on you. It was the most wonderful feeling in the world and it was cruel.

“We finally found each other and the universe really said ‘guess again’.” You tried to smile but your heart hurt too damn much.

Stunna moved his hand and slowly grabbed yours. You let him. He slid his fingers in between yours. His hand was hot to the touch. But comforting. Solid. Real. He squeezed your hand and brought it to his lips to place a small kiss on the back of your hand.

“It’s not forever. We can restrain ourselves for four months, can’t we?” He asked.

You licked your lips and looked him over. How? How could you be in the same class as him or be near him and not want to touch him? Hold him? Kiss him? You had shared so much on the beach in the DR and more so in his room.

He pried you open and stared deep into your heart without flinching. He touched your soul. Melded and meshed your worlds together. You couldn’t ignore that. You also didn’t want either one of you to get in trouble. Someone would catch on. It may not be now or in a week, but someone would eventually.

“We can restrain ourselves for four months,” you agreed. It was only four months. Twelve weeks. That was nothing. It would fly by.

Stunna nodded and squeezed your fingers. “So, that means we probably shouldn’t meet like this. Or be alone…ever in the next four months. Because I’m not strong enough to resist you,” he said.

“Shut up!” You laughed and shook your head.

“I wish I could let you see inside my head. You have been on my mind all day. All last night. The things I was thinkin’ ‘bout you earlier,” he said. He bit his lip, head tilted to the side. If you squinted, you were sure that you could see the dirty fantasies playing through his mind.

“You are insane,” you said. “That doesn’t help!”

“You’re right, I’m sorry. That was inappropriate,” he said.

He still held your hand in his and you stared at it. You fit like two lost puzzle pieces to a complicated puzzle. You didn’t want to let go. But you needed to. It needed to start now.

You started to slide your hand from his. He squeezed your hand, unwilling to let go. “Stunna,” you whispered.

“This shit isn’t fair,” he said softly.

“I know. It’s not forever, right?” You asked.

He nodded and loosened his grip. You slipped your fingers from his. You lied. This was the hardest shit you ever had to do in your life. Saying goodbye to him the second time hurt a lot worse. It was physical blow to your gut.

In the DR, you could pretend that it was just a vacation fling. You were talking about meeting up again, but that was in the future. At some unknown date that you didn’t have to think about. You had weeks or months to get to know each other.

Now, he was real and in your face. Now, he was close enough to reach out and grab. An ache thumped in your chest and you stood up. If you didn’t get up and leave right now, you were going to break down in his new apartment and no man needed to see that.

You stood and stepped away from his couch, already feeling the numbness creep back in. The hopelessness that the next four months would drag on and on. You made it halfway to the door before Stunna called your name.

You turned towards him just as he was crashing his lips to yours. You hadn’t heard him cross the distance, but with his long ass legs it probably only took him two steps to reach you. He grabbed the sides of your head and tilted your head so that he could kiss you deeper.

The strength of his kiss undid you. You melted instantly into his arms, kissing him back with as much desperation. He backed you up until your back hit the wall and he pressed you into it, rubbing his erection into your lower belly.

You had a taste of that so you knew how good it felt. How well he maneuvered it to bring you the most utmost pleasure. You gripped onto his shoulders and held him closer to you while you kissed and explored each other’s mouths.

His warm lips were heaven against yours. Tongue playing with yours. You never wanted it to end. Just kissing him got your panties damp, arousal starting to leak out of you. Sweat gathered between your thighs and you rubbed them together, needing more friction than that.

Stunna broke the kiss, giving you some much needed oxygen. It brought a little clarity. “Stunna, we can’t–”

Stunna kissed you again, cutting off your complaints. “We need a proper goodbye right?”

“We had one yesterday,” you pointed out.

“Naw, this is a real one. Please. I can’t let you walk away for four months without something to hold me over,” he said.

“You so nasty,” you said and grinned.

He looked into your eyes and grinned. His smile would always slay you. It was so open and joyous. Straight teeth. Perfect teeth. Perfect smile. Perfect man.

“Hm, I seem to recall a bad little girl letting strangers play with her pussy,” he said. He smacked your lips with his, once and then twice. He kissed along your jaw and then started kissing your neck. “You can’t wear a dress like this and not expect me to lose my mind.”

“I didn’t know what to wear!” You said.

His hands moved from your head down your sides and then gripped your ass under your dress. He moaned, clenching and unclenching your ass cheeks with a low growl.

“Do me a favor and don’t wear dresses for the next four months. I won’t be able to handle it,” he said.

You made a strangled noise in the back of your throat. He wouldn’t be able to handle it? “Then you have to come to work looking like a bum, because that’s not fair,” you said. He got to look like an Adonis while you had to dress like a nun? How was that fair?

He squeezed your ass and you moaned, back bowing off of the wall. “Take these panties off for me,” he said.

Your hands flew to your panties before your mind caught up. You hesitated briefly. Stunna stilled against you, likely giving you a chance to step away. Fuck it. You needed a proper goodbye. You needed something to hold you over as well. Something to get you through these next four months.

You got rid of your panties and he helped you take off your shoes and then your panties. He grinned, lips returning to yours. You moaned, feverish for his kisses. Stunna hissed knelt down in front of you.

He gathered up your dress and pooled it around your hips and fisted it in one hand. He spread your pussy lips with his free hand and delved into your pussy with his tongue.

“Oh shit!” You moaned. You lifted one leg to give him better access. He growled his appreciation and moved his long tongue towards your dripping entrance. He pumped his tongue in and out of you and your eyes rolled back.

“OH fuck!” You screamed. Your hands dug into his small afro and pulled whatever you could get your hands on. His mouth felt amazing on your pussy. His nose tickled your clit and you felt it in your belly. You huffed and moaned, thighs shaking.

He moved his tongue to your clit and flicked it back and forth with a speed you didn’t know he possessed. Your whines turned to desperate cries as you began to shake in earnest, screaming out an orgasm.

Stunna rolled his whole head, slurping up your juices. He moaned into your pussy. He smacked your ass as you twitched above him. You looked down and caught his eyes at the same time. You almost came again. Locking eyes with him brought a level of intensity to the moment that you couldn’t describe. He made you feel like you were a giant. Or sitting on top of the world.

When he was done with you, he slowly withdrew. There was a spit chain between his lips and your pussy. He grinned, watching it expand. He finally licked his lips and broke it. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and stood up.

“Taste even better than I remember. Should’ve seen the nut I busted in the shower this morning,” he said.

Your head dropped forward against his chest. “Fuck, don’t tell me that,” you said.

His rumbling chuckle vibrated against your cheek. You lifted your head and moved your hand beneath his sweats. He went commando underneath and you lifted an eyebrow at him. He grinned as your hand wrapped around his dick. You stroked him slowly because you didn’t have enough lubrication to get him going.

“Was gripping my meat and stroking, thinkin’ ‘bout you. About the sounds you made. The way you fit me so well,” he said. As he spoke, his tone went lower. He leaned forward and kissed you.

He moved his hips and your hand slipped out. You looked at him with the question in your eyes. He grabbed your hips and turned you around. “As much as I would love those lips on me, I’ve been dying to get back in this pussy,” he said.

He tugged the top of your dress until it came down and trapped your arms to your sides. He pushed you against the wall. The cold hit your nipples and you cried out. He scooted in closer and you felt him tug his sweats down.

He lifted your left leg, slapping his meat against your pussy. The wet smacks were filthy. You moaned and he ran his dick in between your folds, getting the tip wet.

The tip of his dick pushed at your entrance and you moaned. He slid in, inch by inch, savoring the feeling of getting filled up by him. You were a huffing, panting mess by the time he bottomed out. He kissed your neck where it met your shoulder and you moaned.

“Fuck,” he whispered.

Exactly your sentiments. You fit. You were a perfect match. He filled you up, just this side of incredibly full, and you closed your eyes to the sensation. To the feeling. He pinned you to the wall and began to move slowly, sliding in and out of you.

“Shit,” he moaned.

“You feel so good, baby,” you moaned.

“I feel good? You feel like home,” he said. He continued to kiss your neck, nibbling a bit, as his strokes increased.

Your hands were on the wall, trying to anchor yourself against him. His strokes increased until he was rutting inside of you. Each thrust drew a ragged moan from your lips. He moved to a different angle and touched your sweet spot. You cried out, shaking desperately on his dick.

“There’s my fucking spot,” he said. He grinned against your skin. Your head flopped to the side. You bit your arm. He felt too good. Slipping in and out of you. The wet smacks of your combined juices were lewd and turned you on more. Made you drip more.

“So fuckin’ wet, nasty girl. You like this dick, don’t you?”

“Uh-huh,” you moaned, nodding your head.

“You like this dick inside you?” He asked.

“Uh-huh, so good,” you moaned. You drooled against your arm.

“Let me hear you then,” he said. He moved his free hand down between your legs and began to stroke your clit in tandem with his thrusts. Your moans increased in volume, turning into screams as you crashed into another orgasm.

Stunna kissed your cheek and jaw, licked the shell of your ear. “Sound so pretty when you cum. Music to my ears, baby,” he said.

“Nut in me,” you moaned.

“What?” He asked.

“Nut in me, please, I need it,” you moaned.

Stunna growled and increased his thrusts. They turned into a brutal fucking, spearing you. He still played with your clit as he slammed into you, fucking you just how you liked. There was no begging. There was no negotiating. You didn’t have to stop in the middle to communicate that yes, it was okay to get rougher. It was okay to rock into your shit.

Stunna just did it. He gave you exactly what you needed.

“You want this nut?” He asked.

“Yessss,” you moaned.

“Fuck, I’m so close,” he said.

“Stunna, ouuee Stunna,” you moaned in between his strokes.

“That’s right, you let me know who owns this pussy,” he said.

“You. You own this pussy,” you moaned. He groaned before you finished your sentence. He nutted, his hot cum filling you to the brim. Some of it even slipped out and ran down your thigh. You shivered, your head turning fuzzy at the sensation.

Stunna finally stilled his strokes and let his dick pulse. You hissed feeling it. Stunna dropped your thigh and grabbed your neck. He pulled you back into him and you turned your head so that you could kiss him. The kiss was sloppy and you both panted, breath fanning across each other’s faces. But any touch of his lips was worth it.

Stunna kissed your cheek. “I still got some more for you,” he said.

“More?” You asked.

Stunna slipped out of you and then roughly turned you around. He kissed you, pressing you back against the wall with the force of his kisses. He kissed down your body, rolling his tongue around both of your nipples. You cried out.

He tugged you by the front of your dress towards the arm of his couch. He bent you over it and spread your ass cheeks. He moaned and smacked your ass.

“Fuck, I need all night with you to say goodbye,” he said.

You were too blissed out to chuckle. Or laugh. Your head was floating, flying; your mind went on a little trip and you had no plans of returning.

He slipped back inside and you shared a moan, feeling complete once more. He immediately went back to pounding and rutting, slamming his thighs against your ass with the force of his strokes.

“Who own this shit?” He asked.

“Youuu,” you moaned.

“Own the fuck outta this pussy. Feelin’ so good, pussy feelin’ so good. It’s mine now,” he groaned in between thrusts. The arm of the couch dug into your gut and it felt good. You felt just as you did on Saturday night. Possessed. Owned.

“It’s yours!” You moaned. “It’s yours, Stunna!”

“Damn right. Gonna write my initials in this pussy,” he groaned. His fingers turned bruising on your hips.

His initials were already there. It felt like with every stroke, he was stitching your souls together. You became one soul every time his tip kissed your cervix. “Oh fuck, fuck, fuck,” you moaned on each thrust.

His fingers moved to your clit again, flicking his fingers against it. You tried to lean up. You didn’t know why, only that you needed to move. To ease up a bit. He pressed on your back and made you take his dick. Made you take the brutal pounding.

“Guhh,” you moaned and came with a loud cry. Your pussy gripped onto him and he moaned, thrusts turning sloppy and twitching. He came right after you, giving you another round of his cum. He soaked your pussy and you shivered, full body shaking.

Stunna slammed once more into you and then stilled, dick pulsing. His cum slipped down your thighs again. You were deliciously sore. You both panted in the quiet space. You listened to any sound he made. Greedy to capture everything. If this was goodbye, you were hesitant to see what hello looked like.

Stunna slowly slipped out of you. You cried out.

“Shh, shh, you know I got you, baby,” he said. When he was out, you were still sore as hell. You began to shake as the cold crept in. Something so powerful took a lot of energy. You weren’t just imagining things on Saturday. It wasn’t the anonymity of the vacation. You two shared a real connection. The kind love songs and poems were written about. And it was scary as hell.

Stunna returned with a warm washcloth. You cried out, leaning up against the couch. Stunna cooed and talked softly. “I got you. I’m right here,” he said. He finished and wiped up your thighs as well.

When finished, he disappeared with the washcloth and then came back. He helped you stand and adjusted the dress back to where it should be. Then he moved towards the couch and had you straddle him. He held you and rubbed your back as you scooted into him and laid your head on his shoulder.

You didn’t speak. There was nothing to say. You had to find the strength to walk away from this in the morning. You weren’t going to fight it. You needed this goodbye as much as he did. You needed to get your mind wrapped around the fact that you couldn’t have this for months.

It wasn’t the end of the world but it sure as shit felt like it. You were tired of being strong. But for now, you’d have to endure. It was the only way to get the best of both worlds.

You listened to the cadence of his breathing. Warm chest. Strong arms around your back. “It’s not forever,” he said quietly.

No, it wasn’t forever.

D'awww, if you need more, you know I got you!

The Secret Big Stunna Files | Part 1 | Part 3

#Megaminds Secret Files #The Secret Big Stunna Files #Big Stunna x Black!reader #Big Stunna x Black reader #x Black reader #Big Stunna x Fem!reader #Big Stunna x Fem reader #x Fem reader #Professor!Big Stunna #Big Stunna fanfic #Big Stunna fan fic #Big Stunna fan fanfiction #Big Stunna fan fiction #yahya abdul mateen ii #Yahya Abdul Mateen II fanfic #All Day and a Night fanfic #All Day and a Night fan fic #All Day and a Night fanfiction #All Day and a Night fan fiction

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itsbackwoodsbby · 2 months

Text

Laying Low

Drug Dealer Yahya x Black Fem Reader

Warning: Death! Drugs! Murder! Unprotected Sex!

Summary: You sell drugs with your boyfriend, Darnell, but you two constantly argue back and forth. One day, he tells you about how a man named Yahya is seeking revenge on you two for killing his cousin, Jayshawn, when you two were in high school. What happened next? Read it to find out.

Sneak Peek: This is the hardest part about working with Yahya. The sexual fucking tension between you two. Working with a fine black man as a beautiful ass black woman. There’s never a moment where he’s not discussing how you should just let a nigga fuck. And he’s a smooth talker. Even though you say you’ll never mix pleasure with business, it’s kinda hard to focus on that with your back pinned up against a wall, listening to a man begging to fuck you, as he feels on your body.

“Yahya… I told you. I’m not mixing business and pleasure no more.” You yelp out as he pops your thigh. “You gonna make me beg? C’mon, show me that body.” He says before kissing your neck, moving up to your jawline and to your ear to whisper, “That perfect ass body.” He smirks and pulls you closer to his body, thrusting his hips slowly into you, making you feel how hard you make him.

You about to lose it. Your biggest rule is almost out the window. You always knew he was just walking around with a big dick. Hell, he couldn’t have all these random bitches with a small one. But you remember he has a roster of women, which makes it easier to bring that moral back in and push Yahya away from you.

“Nah.” You smile and laugh. He sucks his teeth, “You gon’ let me fuck eventually. You know you want me like I want you.” You shake your head, “Nope.” You lie to him.

A/N: Okay, so this was a request ,but my dumbass deleted the ask with my chubby ass thumb. I know it was could I make a smut with this gif (not mines).

This is what I had in mind. I started this February 27th and finished March 18th. It was so much editing and revising to make sure that it was good for everyone. Hope you guys enjoy!!

Taglist:

@keeper0fhearts @dayiiidayana @becauseimswagman1 @yanalanettebby

If you want to be on my taglist, PLEASE ask me. My nerves will NOT let me just tag people.

Since you started talking, you have always been a peaceful and timid little girl. You minded your business and would never say anything even if it bothered you. You weren’t exactly bullied in school because of this, but you allowed people to walk all over you and use you until you met him.

When you were a freshman in high school, you met Darnell. He was a popular kid in high school, played basketball, and ran track. He started failing math and at first, he didn’t care, but they said he wasn’t going to play basketball if he didn’t get his shit together. He got it together by asking you to tutor him. You said yes and tutored him after practice even though you didn’t want to. You started developing your first crush on him, but something in the back of your mind told you it wouldn’t work out, so you decided to keep it quiet. Which was a good idea, because he would rather not be caught around you. You weren’t ugly, you just weren’t popular like him. You didn’t care.

One day, you got in your soft girl era and glowed up. You became that bitch and everyone wanted to be your friend. You either told everyone to keep the same energy they had when you were “nobody.” However, you couldn’t exactly do that for Darnell. Since you still liked him. “Damn, ma. It’s like that?” is all it took for you two to hang out. Eventually, you two got close, started dating, and he took your virginity. It wasn’t anything to write home about, but it rocked your junior body to a new level of maturity and confidence. You weren’t that timid little girl anymore. You were the popular boy’s girlfriend.

Around your senior year, he tore his ACL during a basketball game. It ruined all chances of him getting a scholarship in basketball or track. He started to wash cars at his uncle’s car shop to make some money and get his mind off his school athletics. It lasted for a while until his uncle got into a financial problem.

One day, you and Darnell decided to visit his uncle at the car shop. You two found him unconscious with his head busted open a bit and the majority of his teeth fell out. Once he woke up, he explained that he got his ass handed to him because he did business with a nigga named Jayshawn and that he only had two weeks to give him his money back. Darnell was pissed as hell. His uncle was special to him, damn near his favorite person. He raised him when his drunk-ass dad didn’t. So what did Darnell do? Darnell became a drug dealer to get the money fast. Just a few little sales and he was out of the game. He even recruited some of his friends to help him.

You always rode around with him. Like his little lap dog. He didn’t mind it. He always thought of it as you being his Bonnie.

It didn’t take long for Darnell to get Jayshawn’s money. You went to him when he gave the money to him. Jayshawn came by himself, unprotected because he underestimated Darnell. Of course, Jayshawn teased you. “Oh, is this your little girlfriend?”, “She’s pretty thick. How old is she? I can have a fun time with her.” are some of the creepy things the old head said. Darnell was pissed but your presence calmed him down somehow. But the deal didn’t go through as you thought it would. Jayshawn started talking about wanting to add interest because he waited so long for the money. Darnell was mad, asking Jayshawn what he needed to give him more money for, but he wouldn’t answer him, just giving him a cheeky answer that pushed Darnell to the unthinkable.

He pulled out a gun and let off three shots. Jayshawn fell straight to the ground, blood pouring out of his chest. You stood there, frozen. You had just seen your first homicide. Darnell looked at the lifeless body, picked up the money he made, and tapped your shoulder, constantly repeating your name, so you two could leave the scene.

When you two got in the car, it was quiet. Now and then, you’d side-eye Darnell. You were expecting shit to pop off, but not that. You two go to his uncle's house to explain what happened. He suggests that you two need to lay low for a while. You were confused about why you needed to lay low. You didn’t kill the nigga. You were a witness. Darnell’s uncle just tells you that if Jayshawn’s people see you they would probably hurt you because you are Darnell’s girlfriend.

During that time, you didn’t get to talk to your friends or your family. Your mom was worried sick about you. She blew your phone up asking where you were and how you better bring your ass back to her house now. You didn’t though. You and Darnell laid low for a month before you two showed your faces.

Your mom was pissed. She claimed she knew that Darnell killed Jayshawn, how she didn’t want you around all that, and how you were a sweet girl before you met Darnell. That shit went in one ear and out the other. You had definitely changed after seeing Jayshawn get whacked. You were distant. You became disobedient to your mom. You still hung out with Darnell and came home whenever you wanted to. But it all changed after you started helping Darnell in the streets. You were selling drugs and murking niggas. The anxiety feeling you got when you saw Jayshawn die was gone and a new thrilling feeling rolled over your body: being wealthy and having power.

Eventually, your mom got tired of your shit and kicked you out of her house. Mainly in fear of when your ass gets caught, her house wouldn’t be raided, looking for you or whatever drugs you had smuggled into her house. You moved in with Darnell who lives with his uncle after his mom kicked his ass out as well two months before. You finished school. You were an honored graduate. You didn’t let the streets stop you from getting your education. Darnell, however, dropped out because he was already successful.

Now, it has been seven years since you graduated high school. You wake up and shower to do your housewife duties. You go downstairs and take a stretch before you cook breakfast for you and Darnell and his uncle. As you finish, they roll out of bed and start coming downstairs to eat this delicious meal you have made.

Everyone fixes their plate and sits at the table. As soon as they have their first bite, they dig into the food like they haven’t eaten since last week. You roll your eyes, but inside, you’re proud of this delicious breakfast you cooked.

After their third serving of food, you wash the dishes that you messed up. Darnell comes up and smacks your ass.

“Damn, baby that food was delicious.” He says. Before you can answer, here comes his raggedy-ass uncle, putting in his two cents “Well, of course, the food is good. You gave her some dick last night. Had her screaming for dear mercy. Just how I taught you.”

You look at Darnell who just shrugs the situation off like it’s something completely normal. You roll your eyes and continue washing dishes. You put the dishes up and head upstairs to the bedroom. Here goes the toothless motherfucker once again.

“Yeah, boy. She wants some more. You see how she popping that ass upstairs.” He says, trying to dap up his nephew. You slam the door.

You can hear Darnell and his uncle semi-arguing. Not about protecting his girl and telling his uncle to stop saying shit like that. It was about his uncle ruining his chance of getting pussy. His uncle's last words before Darnell followed you upstairs were:

“Well, I live here too. Not my problem your girlfriend is loud as hell when y’all fuck in MY HOUSE.”

You roll your eyes and just look at Darnell. He sighs, “You know he done lost a few brain cells after that incident.” You mumble, “Nigga finna lose more than that if he don’t shut the hell up.”He chuckles at your remark and then starts kissing your neck. You push him away, “No. I’m not in the mood.” He tries again and you get up away from the bed. “I said no, nigga.” You semi-yell at him. He sighs and looks down at the bed then back at you, “You seriously going to let my uncle kill the vibe baby.”

You damn right. You might be horny for this boy’s dick, but you’ll be damned if you have to listen to his creepy-ass uncle make sexual comments about you. Sometimes, when it’s just you two alone, his uncle makes even more vulgar sexual advances, including trying to touch your ass.

Of course, Darnell gets mad you ain’t wetting his dick up. You sigh, “Baby, why can’t we just move out of here and get our own place?” You come back to him, sit on his lap, and wrap your arms around his neck. “That way, we can have sex more.” You look down at him and see him smiling at the idea and he wraps his arms around your waist tightly and grips your booty, “Maybe, even start a family, eventually.” You add, smiling with him.

You feel his embrace loosen up from you. You look at him. “Y/N, you know how I feel about kids.” He rolls his eyes and looks annoyed. You almost had him. “Come on, Darnell. We are not going to get any younger. We should start a family.” You put it out there. He just stays quiet, so you get off his lap and just look at him. “Uh, hello? I said something.”

He ignores you and then his phone goes off. You get a glance at it. India Dior. You roll your eyes and get off the bed. You two went to school with Miss. India. She was very popular. Mainly because she is pretty, rich, and she could dress. She didn’t have much of a personality. Just being a hoe. Now she’s an influencer. Showing her big ass house, that her dad brought her and just showing off her beauty on the internet.

If being an influencer stops working for her one day, the money won’t stop for her. Her dad would give her money. Her dad is a big drug dealer. He is somewhat of a motivation for Darnell. You couldn’t say anything bad about Robert Jackson around Darnell, or he’ll become the most dick-riding motherfucker.

You get really sick and tired of seeing India’s name on this nigga phone. He swears it’s so innocent and that she's just checking up on him or that he asked her dad for tips on how to run his business. You know it has to be a bit more than that. You were born at night, but not last night.

He sighs and looks at you, “You really not going to give me none tho?” He rubs your spot and you push his hand away, “No because your raggedy ass gum mouth ass uncle can’t mind his business and you can’t even tell him that shit is weird and uncomfortable and you just ignore me.” You roll your eyes. He huffs, “Man, whatever. Always trippin’ and shit. You need some dick. Maybe it will help your attitude.”

And that last sentence is what starts the fifth argument this week. And it’s just Tuesday. All ‘cause he’s mad you won’t give him no pussy. Well if he would meet you halfway on this and move out maybe you’ll give him pussy more.

You don’t even want to argue with Darnell. You love the man with every bone in your body, but you’re always putting your needs and wants on the back burner to make this nigga happy. Can he do the same for you? Hell naw.

“AYE! Y’ALL TWO SHUT THE FUCK UP!” Toothless screams from downstairs. “DAMN! PREFER YALL FUCKING THEN ALWAYS FUCKING ARUGING.” He yells some more.

You look at Darnell to see if he heard what his uncle said. He just shrugs and acts like it’s nothing. “I’m finna shower.” He brushes his way past you and grabs his stuff to shower.

You sigh and lay on the bed as he walks out. When he leaves, you let the tears out that you hid during the argument. Mentally, you’re so tired and your boyfriend doesn’t even care. Your quiet sobbing makes you even more tired, so you relax your body and sleep.

You wake up from your nap in a tight embrace a good hour later. You look up and see you’re lying on Darnell’s chest. You look up at him and he looks down at you and kisses your forehead.

“How did you sleep, baby?” He asks you. You look around, stretch a bit, and look back at him, “I slept okay.” You say and look away from him, remembering what happened before you took a nap. He sighs, “I’m sorry. You’re right. My uncle be out of pocket. It’s not cool what he does and says. I am your man and should be speaking out for you and telling him what he’s saying is wrong.” You smile a bit, happy he’s realizing his wrongs. “We can move out of here. Especially with everything that’s going on.”

He blows out some hot air and looks at you. You sit up, “What's going on?” He looks at you, “I don’t want to worry you. It’s Jayshawn’s cousin. He’s close to our age. He is coming for us.” Your eyes get wide, “Why? Like why is he now getting us?” He looks at you, “You know I killed Jayshawn while he was in jail. He's out now.” He continues, “I got an insider that said he is getting back in the game. He ain’t going to have anything like a gun or shit. So I was thinking we could kill two birds with one stone and maybe kill him and rob for his shit. That way we wouldn’t have to worry about that nigga no more.

You think about the plan. It’s risky as hell, but it’s worth it. When it comes to this lifestyle, you hate being a target. Besides it being dangerous, you’re also going to be stuck in a house with Gummy and Darnell when you have to lay low from cops and opps. You would rather not do that, so you have to risk it. But you are still questioning whether it was a good idea.

You sigh, “And that nigga will really be defenseless?” He looks at you, “Of course, he will be. He won’t be expecting anything.” You nod your head and smile, “Do you think we should bring the boys? Just in case shit gets rocky.” You add. He shakes his head, “Nah, baby. I told you he’s harmless right.” You look at him, “Okay.” He smiles and kisses your forehead, “Ight. We are going at night. My boy watched him. Said he usually leaves the trap house by himself.” You just nod your head and mentally prepare yourself for what’s about to come.

So around 11, you two go to Yahya’s new trap spot and creep inside. Darnell suggests that you two split up so that you two can find the valuables more easily. You agree with the idea and instantly regret it. Darnell starts being super loud. You two aren’t even in the same room, but you can hear breaking shit and heavy footsteps. Suddenly, it quiets down. You think Darnell has found the valuables he needs and now he’s off to kill Yahya. But instead, you hear a voice call out.

“Who the fuck is there?” The voice asks.

You hide behind boxes with some product in them and look around to see this Yahya. He is very muscular and tall. You bite your lips at him, but then you get yourself back into focus.

Suddenly, something knocks a box down, giving away your cover. Yahya rushes to you, pins you against a wall, and puts a knife to your neck.

“Who the hell are you?!” He says, almost shouting at you as he looks you up and down. You don’t say anything, just look up at the ceiling.

Your silence makes Yahya mad. You don’t care. Especially when you see Darnell creeping past the door. You start to grin, thinking your man is about to save you and shoot Yahya. But he doesn’t. He smiles and waves at you, sneaks out the door, and leaves you there. Your grin drops.

You should have known that something was up when you woke up from that nap. He was being too damn nice and HE apologized. Darnell never apologizes, even when he knows he’s wrong. Your heart shatters in a million pieces. You can’t believe this shit! Your first love really set you up.

Yahya pushes the knife a bit deeper. “I said who the fuck are you?” He repeats himself, louder to make sure you can hear him. Your sadness turns to anger quickly, “You should know, fuck nigga. You wanted to kill me for killing your cousin.” You say as you roll your eyes. He looks at you, “What are you talking about?” You look at him confused, “You wanted to kill me and Darnell. Over your cousin … Jayshawn.” He looks at you and laughs, “Ion care about no damn Jayshawn. I didn’t fuck with him. Blood or not. Besides, he died from being a dumbass.” He laughs some more and drops you on the floor. “Should have strapped up, careless ass nigga.”

You sigh, feeling like a damn fool. You stand up and brush yourself off. This shit is so embarrassing.

“So tell me for real, why you here?” He questions you and you tell him the short version of the story, “My boyfriend told me that you wanted to kill us because you wanted revenge for your cousin.” He chuckles, “Sounds like your lil boyfriend just wanted your ass gone.” His chuckle becomes a hard laugh. You roll your eyes, “Well, not to rain on your parade, but he stole some of your product and your money while he was here.” He shrugs, “I can make that money back easily. And that product he stole ain’t shit. Mid at best. I’m looking for a new supplier anyway.” You just mug him, “Good the fuck for you.” He laughs, “Don’t be mad at me. Be mad at your nigga or whatever for setting you up.” You shake your head, “Yeah yeah. Whatever.”

You don’t even fight to win the petty ass argument with him. You’re so heartbroken and honestly where the fuck has arguing got you, anyways. Heartbroken and homeless. You sigh and start walking away.

“Aye! Aye!” He calls out. “Work with me.” He says. You turn around, “What?” You walk back to him. “Work with me.” He says, licking his lips at you. “What makes you think I can run the game for real? You see I just got set up. You saw how I was just finna give up and let you kill me.” You list your reasons. He just smiles at you, “I wouldn’t have known where you were if the box didn’t fall. That nigga was the only reason you got caught. Possibly threw this over here.” He says as he picks up a rock.

You stand there, contemplating. Should you work with Yahya? You don’t know him. He could eventually do the same thing as Darnell did to you. You don’t know why he even went to jail. You look at him as he puts his hand out. He gets you when he says:

“We can get revenge on Darnell if you would like that.” You smile and shake his hand, “Glad to do business with you.” He laughs.

While working with Yahya, your life got way better. You’re well-respected in the streets. Everyone knows that fuck with you, they fuck with Yahya and that’s not something they want to do.

You’re closer with your mom and you two speak every day. She doesn’t like that you’re still in the game, but she loves your new partner because he doesn’t have you doing crazy things. Another plus for her, you both spoil her, so it’s a win-win for her.

After sleeping in the trap house for a while, you finally had enough to buy your first house and a little extra to decorate how you wanted. It was nice to not have to clean every damn day after two grown-ass men. It was relaxing to be able to walk around the house butt-ass naked finally.

You decided from then on, that you’d never mix your pleasure with your street business ever again.

Working with Yahya also means random bitches always interfere with work. They pop up at the trap house, trying to be under him and watch you as IF you want him. You don’t know how many times you had to tell these bitches off because they try to say something about you being too close to him or they’re even going to take your spot and be the only woman in his life. You reassure these bitches, they’re definitely not the only ones.

And don’t even forget about trying to work when Yahya is horny. If his phone dings and it’s one of his bitches, meeting over with. He will rush to drop some dick off in them. Or he gives her a quickie in the trap house and you are just stuck there listening for what feels like an eternity.

Currently, you are sitting in the trap house, listening to Yahya crack this girl in the other room. It’s so aggravating. Today is product day. Yahya gives you and the rest of the team some products and you guys move it. You take this opportunity to talk to Yahya about this plan you had. You two were in the middle of talking about your revenge on Darnell's greasy ass and then Miss. Brittani delulu decides to pop up so she can get her daily dose of dick.

When they return, Yahya buckles up his pants as she fixes her little sundress and her haYou roll your eyes in disgust. Yahya stands there, cupping her ass, telling her that he’ll see her again, and how he’ll be thinking about that pussy. You roll your eyes and scoff. It’s the same thing he tells all the others. Brittani looks over at you and she starts mugging you.

“You’re just jealous that he wants me and not your street rat ass.” She says to you. You look at Yahya, “Please, kick her out so we can work. Please.” You look back down at your phone, trying to spare her. “Bitch, you don’t rush me. You’re nothing. I’m a goddess. He loves me.” You sigh and look at her, “Sweetheart, you’re just another body on his list, let alone you’re the fifth bitch that fucked him in the bathroom this week. Please… tread the fuck lightly.” Brittani looks at Yahya and storms off. He chuckles at you as he sits down in his chair, “Damn, Y/N. You going to leave a nigga with no bitches.” You shrug, “She’ll be back. You know she’s delusional for your ass.” You look back at your phone.

“So, why you so impatient today?” Yahya asks you. You roll your eyes, “Again, I want to get Darnell back now since he has to lay low. He just robbed that boy, Stacy, so Darnell will be off the radar at his uncle's house. It’s an easy job. We can’t fuck up.” Yahya looks at you, “What about his uncle?” You lean back, “It’s Tuesday and his gummy bear uncle goes out, getting shitty drunk, playing bingo.”He laughs, “You always talk shit about that man uncle.” You roll your eyes, “Cause he’s mad weird.”

You two discuss the plan with no interruption at all. The plan is wonderfully crafted. Yahya couldn’t do anything but compliment your smarts. Then you two stand up together and you adjust your shorts that have found their way up your thigh. You look up Yahya. Finally, you notice that he is staring hard as hell at you.

“What, nigga?” You laugh. Yahya chuckles and walks closer to you. “You know you be looking good as hell to me.” He says. You roll your eyes, “Didn’t you just fuck your daily bop of the day?” You laugh at his desperation to fuck. “Don’t even worry about all that for real.” He pulls you close and grips your ass, “I want you now, so what is up?”

This is the hardest part about working with Yahya. The sexual fucking tension between you two. Working with a fine black man as a beautiful ass black woman. There’s never a moment where he’s not discussing how you should just let a nigga fuck. And he’s a smooth talker. Even though you say you’ll never mix pleasure with business, it’s kinda hard to focus on that with your back pinned up against a wall, listening to a man begging to fuck you, as he feels on your body.

“Nah.” You smile and laugh. He sucks his teeth, “You gon’ let me fuck eventually. You know you want me like I want you.” You shake your head, “Nope.” You lie to him.

He chuckles. Reading right through your lie. But he lets you go freely. Knowing that you’re going to give in eventually. You grab your bag and put it on your arm. You distribute the product you had and go home to relax for the rest of the day until it is time to put the plan in motion.

Around midnight, you swing by to get Yahya for the mission. He comes out of his house dressed similarly to you. You both had on all black. You drive to the abandoned parking lot that’s not that far from Darnell’s location.

You look at Yahya, “Are you ready?” He looks at you, “I should be asking you. You have chemistry with this nigga.” You raise your eyebrow, “No. Had. And the chemistry was one-sided. I loved him. He loved that I was a housewife, always gave him pussy ‘til his uncle started being creepy, and helped him do his job.”

You roll your eyes. The months you’ve been single made you realize a lot of things that were absolutely wrong with that relationship. Darnell LET his uncle say sexual things to you. He never protected you from it. Just act like it was nothing serious. The relationship was always 100/0. You never got anything in the relationship, yet you always had to please him and put up with his shit. Love just blinded you from seeing the unhealthy things of that relationship.

You two get out and creep down the alleyway, making sure to get caught. Once you get there, you two see an unfamiliar white car in the driveway.

“Thought you said he’d be home alone?” He asks you. “I mean, I thought so. That’s not his uncle's car.” You shrug and slide your foot through the opened window. “Aye, Y/N, what you doing?” He whispers to you. You just look at him, “I am going inside. Not letting this stop me.” Yahya chuckles, “You just want him gone, huh?” You look at Yahya, “Duh.”

You go inside and soon after Yahya follows you inside. The house has definitely seen better days. The house had a mildew smell. You can see in the dim kitchen that the sink was full of dirty dishes. Two trash bags were on the floor, while the one in the bin was filled to the brim. There was trash everywhere in the house. It was kind of hard to walk slowly without stepping on it.

You two creep upstairs and start hearing noises. You lean on the wall and Yahya leans next to you. You look at him and in the dark, you can see his eyes telling you to peek inside before you go in. You look inside and your skin starts to boil. This nigga is giving backshots to that bitch India. And you know it’s her because her flower-tatted ass. You turn your head to Yahya.

“It’s just my replacement.” You whisper to him. “So we good?” He asks you. You nod, “Yeah. Definitely good.”

You wait for a minute and then you burst into the room with Yahya. Darnell pulls out and lays on the bed and India covers her body up, crying begging for mercy.

“Bitch, shut the fuck up!” You say. You raise your gun to Darnell, “Hey baby. You missed me?” You give him a wicked smile.

Darnell starts stuttering your name out as you get closer to him, begging for you not to kill him, but you do anyway. India starts crying and screaming. Once she’s over the initial shock, she pushes you and tries to run out of the room. Yahya blocks her way hovers over her and points the gun at her.

“No witnesses, lil mama.” He says in a husky muffled voice. It honestly sends shivers down your spine, but once you hear the gunshot ring, you are back to reality.

You look down and see the lifeless bodies. The end of Darnell and India’s stories. You two creep out the backdoor since it’s the quickest way back to the alleyway. So many thoughts run through your mind. It feels so good to get revenge. Not just for him setting you up, but just for being a horrible boyfriend to you. You didn’t deserve all that shit.

You two slip into your car and you ride off to Yahya’s house to drop him off. It was quiet. Mainly cause you’re still in your head. On the one hand, you’re happy as hell. But on the other hand, you couldn’t help the remorseful feeling you had. You killed someone’s son, someone’s best friend, someone’s favorite person, and even though you hated his ass, someone’s nephew. And even though you didn’t care for India, you killed someone’s daughter. And not just someone’s, Robert Jackson’s daughter.

Your stomach begins to get queasy. Your hands start shaking on the wheel. You try to think about something else so you won’t be so tense while driving. You start thinking about what you will do while staying off the radar. Maybe learn a new hobby or maybe get back into writing.

At a red light, you look over at Yahya. You see he’s just been eyeing you. He wasn’t checking you out, he was trying to figure out what’s on your mind. You smile at him, hoping he can’t read that you’re starting to feel guilty.

“So what are you going to do while you keep a low profile?” You ask him. He looks at you, “Low profile? Why do I need to lay low?” You look at him, “You just killed a drug dealer’s daughter. A big drug dealer at that, Yahya.” He looks at you, “And? What does that mean to me?” You look at him, “You know he is going to send his boys on you?” He leans back in his seat, “Yeah, but who’s really going to be stupid enough to kill me?” He says, all arrogant and you roll your eyes, which makes him laugh, “Nah, all serious though. I like to walk around with a target on my chest every day. If niggas see me, they just see me. Nine times outta ten, they not gon’ do shit.”

You look at him like he’s a crazy man, “Well, I am.” You say as you resume driving. “I hate being a target. And I am definitely one now.” You sigh, “I just hate that now I have to do it by myself.” He looks at you, “I’ll spend it with you.” He starts, “Well, if you don’t mind.” You smile, “Yeah. If you don’t mind not fucking your hoes for a while.” He chuckles, “I have self-control.”

You two laugh, knowing damn well that he doesn’t have self-control. He’s a horny dog. You were curious though on why he would want to lay with you, knowing you won’t let him fuck any random women in your home. Knowing that you won’t even let him fuck you.

“So why you want to spend it with me?” You ask him. He breathes in before talking, “To protect you, let you feel safe about this, so you won’t be in your head the whole time and spooking yourself. So you won’t be alone.” He touches your shoulder.

You smile, almost shed a tear. It feels good to know someone is willing to protect you during this time. You arrive at Yahya’s house and park on the curb. You wait as he packs his things. A few minutes later, he moves his car into the garage and walks back to your car. He throws his bag in the back and gets in. You drive to your place and drive your car in your garage. He gets his bag and you two head inside.

As you get inside, you tell Yahya that you are about to hop in the shower and sleep afterward and you tell him where the guest room is. You go into your room, strip down, and head to your bathroom. You shower, making sure you get squeaky clean. After your shower, you get dressed in an oversized shirt. No bra and panties. You relax your body on your bed and close your eyes.

… … …

You couldn’t sleep. Every time you close your eyes, you see Darnell’s body. You didn’t understand. You killed people before, why is Darnell’s death fucking with you? You sigh and get out of your bed. Slowly, you walk to the guest room and lightly tap on the door. Yahya opens the door and leans on the doorframe. His tall muscular body hovers over you. He was wearing basketball shorts and a gray tank top.

“Can I come in?” You ask him. He shakes his head yes and moves out of the way for you. He lays back down and pats the bed, “Come on, lay down.” You smile and lie down next to him. He puts the blanket on you and wraps his arm around you. “It’s going to be okay, Y/N. I got you.”

As the days went by, you had a lot of fun with Yahya. You two play card games and watch movies. He even helps you learn a new hobby, drawing and painting. Yahya was still leaving to handle things at the trap house. When he comes back, you have a hot meal waiting for him.

You learn more about each other. Yahya always wanted to be an architect, but because he went to jail for armed robbery. Since he was 17, he got charged as an adult, but he got a minimum of ten years since he was young and he didn’t have much involvement in it. Eight years later, he got out early for good behavior, even though he was far from being good in jail. Since he couldn’t get a job as an architect, he turned back to what he knew. The streets.

Your dreams for your future job have always changed. You wanted to be a singer, but you didn’t like the idea of singing in front of millions of people. You wanted to be a writer, but you think your writings are ass and not tasteful for anyone, but yourself. You wanted to do hair, but you met Darnell, so then you decided to just be a basketball player’s wife. That took a turn and you became a drug dealer’s toy and followed him in the streets and did dirty jobs with him.

Yahya is at the trap house today. He told you that he was going to be back a little late. You decide to clean around the house and do some laundry. You finish that and Yahya still wasn’t here. So you go to your office and you write some ideas for your next story. Yahya still wasn’t here. You decide to cook dinner and he finally comes to the house. It’s like he knows when you’re done cooking.

“Sorry, I am late. Moni ran into some problems. Had to help her.” He walks to the kitchen and wash his hands. You look at him, examining the fact that he has blood on his shirt. You clear your throat and point to the stain. He looks at it, “Oh shit! I didn’t know that was there.” You laugh, “Well, is Moni okay?” He shakes his head, “Yeah, just shaken up. Some guys tried to rob her as she was walking out.” He takes off the blood-stained button-up shirt.

You try not to, but you replay the way he unbuttoned it. Slowly revealing his abs. He takes the shirt off, showing those muscular arms that you wish could wrap around your body. Wishing that for a few moments, you weren’t so hellbent on not mixing business with pleasure.

“Go shower, so you can eat.” You tell him. He chuckles, “Yes, ma’am. I will, mama.” He walks upstairs.

You lean on the counter. You know he meant it in a teasing way, but it still did something for you in between your thighs. He was undeniably fine. He is your type of man. He walks around with facial expressions of confidence and besides Robert, he’s the second feared man in the city, which makes you even more wetter thinking when you catch yourself thinking of him.

He comes downstairs in a white tee and grey sweats. You two fix your plates and eat at the dinner table. He compliments your cooking as usual. You try to wash the dishes, but he tells you to go sit down. You don’t argue with him. You sit down and start reading some of your works.

“What are you reading?” Yahya says a few minutes later. He sits down next to you as You close the binder quickly. “Uh… nothing.” You smile. “C’mon, tell me.” He says and you just shake your head.

He looks at you a while before grabbing the blue binder and opening it. You try to take it back, but he moves it away from you. You sigh and laugh at his childish ass. He opens it and examines it at first.

“You wrote this?” He raises his eyebrow at you. You look down, “Uh, yeah.” He chuckles, “This is nice.” He smiles at you.

He starts to read your story out loud. His husky voice was soothing and helped bring the characters together in your head. Then he gets to the sexual parts, and his voice is giving you the best eargasm, as well as bringing you close to an orgasm.

Your thighs rub against each other. Then, you feel his hand raise from your leg to your thighs. Your eyes meet his and you stare for a while before he kisses you. You didn’t even hesitate to kiss him back. He pulls you on top of him and grips your waist tightly. Then, he stops and moves you away from him.

“I'm sorry. I know you said that you're not mixing business and pleasure.” He says and looks at you. You just look at him, feeling hazy. The kiss was intoxicating. You had to do it again.

You damn near jump in his lap and kiss him. He is shocked, but he pulls your body close to his as he kisses you back. You lay back on the couch and he is in between your legs. He pins your wrists, together, and kisses your neck. He goes up your jawline and tugs your ear.

“So you going to give me that pussy now?” He whispers in your ear. He thrust himself onto you. Your eyes roll back to your, “Fuck Yahya. Yes.” You cooed out to him.

He smiles and picks you up to take you to your bedroom. So many thoughts were running through your head. You felt his dick brushing against your shorts. His dick is too big. Will he even fit? You were nervous, but you needed to feel him deep inside of you.

Your thoughts are interrupted as your back touches your dresser. Your shirt, shorts, and underwear go flying everywhere in your room. He walks back a bit and admires your body. You couldn’t help but smile and look down.

“No. Look at me.” He says. You look at him. Your smile was bright enough to white the room. “Damn, you’re so beautiful.” He walks back to you, kisses you, and lowers down to your neck. “Your body is so perfect.” His breath tickles your neck.

He massages your left breast and sucks on the right. Your body shivers and gets covered in goosebumps. He rubs your body, lowers down to kiss your stomach, and spreads your legs apart. He looks at your sticky wet mess in between your legs. He practically starts drooling over it.

You giggle and snap your fingers, “Sir, are you okay?’ He chuckles, “Yeah, yeah. My bad.” He says as he pushes your back against the mirror behind you and rubs your slit. Your body hitches up, “Oh fuck!” He lowers down and dips his tongue inside for a taste and he couldn’t get enough.

He starts eating you out and you bite your moan in. He pops your thigh. “Let me hear you, mamas.” Your mouth hangs up and you moan. He smiles and flicks your clit as he adds a finger in. You grip his head and push him deeper into your pussy. “Shit, baby. Don’t stop. Don’t stop.” His fingers curve, making you cry out.

He nibs and bites on your clit, adding another finger, and you lose your mind. You grip the sheets and look down at him as you start riding his face, feeling your body get closer to your climax. He looks up at you and pulls your body closer to him so he can devour your pussy more. Your body jerks up and you let out a sudden scream as you let go of your orgasm.

You catch your breath and look down at him, pulling him up to kiss him so you can taste yourself on his lips. He slips his tongue in your mouth and explores around. He scoops you off the dresser and lays you on your silk-covered bed without breaking the kiss. You hear his pants unzip and the ruffling of his pants and boxers going down to the floor. You feel his dick glide on your clit. He eases his tip inside you. You gasp and jerk your body.

“No, no! It’s too big.” You try to stop him. He kisses your neck, “It’s okay. It’s okay, mamas.” He wipes your tears away. “I got you.” He kisses your cheek. You breathe and try to relax as the initial stingy sensation washes over your body. He eases the rest of himself inside you and holds himself right there. “You can move.” You tell him, once you get a bit used to him.

He doesn’t move. Instead, he looks into your eyes, with a smirk, “Beg for it.” He gives you a deep slow stroke, making your eyes widen “Oh shit.” You drag the moan out of your mouth.

You knew why he wanted you to beg. Because you held out on giving him pussy for months. You’re not the type to beg, never begged in your life. But over this dick, you had to. “Yahya, please. Please fuck me.” You whimper as his strokes get slower and slower. With a cheeky smile, he drives his dick inside you at a rapid pace. This is what you wanted. This is what you need.

He pins your feet behind your head, getting deeper into your stomach. He is where you need his dick to be. Pleasure begins filling your body up. It’s too much. You push him away a bit, “Yahya, wait… it’s too much.” He pins your wrists to your ankles, putting more pressure on your stomach, “Nah, take it. You keep this wet ass pussy away from me.” He groans before slamming inside you.

You close your eyes and whine out. You wish you would have never held back from getting fucked by him if you knew he was this good at fucking. He lets your hands go and comes down tongue-kiss you. You wrap your hands around his neck. He starts going faster, hitting your spot over and over again.

You gasp and break the kiss, “Fuck! Fuck! Right there, right there.” You beg him to keep hitting that spot. “That’s what you want? You want me to make that pussy come for me.” He groans, looking down at you.

You’re a broken record, whimpering the word yes over and over. He smiles and kisses your neck. You convulse around his dick as you're getting closer to your climax again. Your body arches up as you cum. Yahya’s strokes begin getting sloppy, making a squelch sound. He floods his nut inside you. He rests his head on your neck and catches his breath.

He gets up off you and stands up to examine your exhausted body. You lift your head to look at him. He smiles and looks at you with a smirk. “If you think I can go again, you’re a madman.” You laugh and lay your head back on your bed. “Nah, I just want you to clean this dick up.” His smirk grows.

You laugh and look at him. His dick was still hard. You had to show the fuck out when giving this man head. For fucking you like that, you wanted to place him on a high throne for blessing you with good dick like that. You get on your knees and you place his dick in your mouth. You bob your head up and down.

He throws his head back, “Shit.” He grips your head and starts fucking your mouth. He goes faster, making his dick hit the back of your throat. “Shit mamas. You tryna make me cum again. I just clean it.”

You pop his dick out your mouth and spit on it to get it wet. As your saliva drips to his balls, you catch it and start sucking on his balls. Your hand starts stroking his thick shaft fast. You start tasting his precum, giggling. “Nut for me, daddy.”

You come back up and suck his dick again, faster this time. His body starts shivering as he looks down at you. “You are crazy.” He groans as his dick begins to twitch in your mouth. A second later, he starts coming into your mouth. You swallow and look at him.

He falls back on the bed and face palms. “Shit! That was amazing.” You lay on his chest, “Yes it was.” You giggle and kiss his glistening sweaty chest. “Should have let me do that sooner.” He says before kissing your forehead. You yawn, “Yeah. I definitely should have.”

You are happy you threw that rule out of the way. Because you just got the best dick your pussy has ever had. But you couldn’t help but think how it would affect your relationship and your work with Yahya or if would it affect it at all. You shrug, putting off as a problem future you would have to deal with. Besides, you’re not going to let your thoughts ruin your high from the amazing sex you just had.

You two lay in bed talking for a bit, until you hear light snores coming from Yahya. You laugh quietly, kiss his cheek, and go to sleep.

#itsbackwoodsbby #poc writer #x black fem reader #black fanfic writer #black fanfiction #smut #black writer #celebrities #black tumblr #yahya abdul mateen ii smut #yahya abdul mateen ii #yahya abdul mateen ii x black fem reader #tw drugs #drug dealer yahya #aquaman #black manta

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henneseyhoe · 10 months

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“Tell daddy you sorry”(request)

Stunna x BLACK!THICK!FEM!reader

WARNINGS: toxic!stunna, daddy kink, rough sex, name calling, breeding kink(eh?), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!)

SUMMARY:you fucked somebody else. Stunna ain’t too happy bout it.

Ps. This was (kinda) inspired by we cry together by Kendrick Lamar. I listen to that shit unironically and the ending of the song had me gasping when I first heard it so I had to make a lil drabble lmfao. Also I owed y’all a lil sumn before putting out these other requests and series.

✮✮✮✮

“Now tell daddy you sorry”

“Tell daddy you sorry for givin’ his pussy away” he repeated, his hips colliding into her with force as she whined pathetically, her hands pushing at his hips to keep him from going so deep. She felt defeated in this moment. Weak that not only did she let this nigga back into her house, but she let him back into HER.

Her soft eyes stared up at him, her mouth gaped open with a stupid look on her face, the golden chain he wore around his neck dangling above her, putting the girl in a trance like state with the help of his mad thrusts. One kiss to her lips and she was snapped out of it.

“Fuuuck! I hate you!”

“You do? This pussy looove me, though. Look how wet she is, baby” he says, delivering slow, deep strokes that had her mumbling incoherent words. She couldn’t even lie and say she wasn’t loving every bit of this shit. If she did, her hormones would have made it obvious that she was boldly lying through her teeth, and one thing about Stunna was that he hated a liar, especially a bad one.

Her eyes rolled back into her head and her back arched to the sky, the man getting satisfaction out of watching her try to break free from the death grip he had on her thighs. He was surely gonna leave a mark.

“now say sorry”

the logical thing for her to do was comply and do what he told her to do instead of being a brat and refusing again, and she would have said no anyway if her ass wasn’t already sore from the 10 strikings his hand gave her earlier.

“I- I’m so sorry, daddy!”

“You is?”

“Yesss!”

“This pussy mine?”

“Yes! yes! yes!” She chanted, her toes curling.

Stunna smirked. “Obviously he ain’t do a good job if you came back. You love me?”

“Yessss! Give it to me!” She cried, her nails scratching down his back as she took every single inch he gave to her. He spoke no words, just continued to do his damage, aiming for her sweet spot the entire time. The way he was fucking her, you could have sworn he hated her a little, shit, he might after tonight.

Her thighs felt like she had ran a mile, her body not getting time to calm down before another orgasm was upon her. In bliss, she was unaware of the turmoil she had set herself in just by fucking this man once again. And she’d do it again after this too.

“Shit!” He shouted, his jaw clenched as he gripped her thick thighs, bending them back to her chest. If she knew getting fucked this hard would take playing in his face, she would have been broken up with him and using somebodies son as a sex toy.

“Fuuuuck! Fuck me nigga!” she screamed before her voice became hushed, the man responding in harsh slaps to her ass.

“Imma fuck you bitch”

“Fuck meee!”

“Imma fuck you bitch”

They went back and forth till the woman’s legs began to shake violently, her pussy practically choking his dick, just how he wanted it.

“I don’t wanna see you with nobody else unless it’s the baby I put in you”

✮✮✮✮

@chxrryp0p

#black fanfic writer #black fanfiction #black!reader #masterlist #black actors #black reader #black!fem!reader #black!oc #smut masterlist #henneseyhoe #yahya abdul mateen ii #yahya abdul mateen ii smut #yahya fanfiction #smutty #actor smut #smut blog #Stunna #Stunna smut #Stunna x reader

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berberriescorner · 1 year

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Nobody's Gonna Know

(Part Two)

Characters: Yahya Abdul-Mateen II as himself x Black!reader (woc!reader), Michael B. Jordan as himself (appearance), and Kiana Ledé as “Jerrika” (appearance).

Summary: What happens when you realize what you’ve always wanted was right in front of your face the entire time?

Warnings: Profanity, daddy kink (you’re not surprised), smut, mentions of violence, drinking, and did I mention smut already😈?

Word Count: (Part Two) 4800+.

Inspired By:

The sound of his phone snapped Yahya out of the flashback. A smile crept across his face as he swiped to answer.

“Ain’t been gone but a minute. You missing daddy already, love?”

“You’re so annoying. I was calling to let you know I made it home safely.”

“Thank you, love. I wished you could’ve stayed one more night,” his tone was affectionate and sensual.

Yahya always made his words sound both rugged and soft with you. It was both erotic and sinfully sweet, causing butterflies to flutter inside you.

“You still there, mama?”

You cleared your throat, trying to hide that his voice was affecting you. Changing the subject, you continued, “There’s a kickback Friday. It’s at my sis’ house. You're coming, right?”

He smiled to himself, knowing he made you feel some type of way. In a raspy voice, he asked, “That depends. Are you staying the night afterward?”

“I’ll meet you at your house later in the night.”

“Why not just arrive and leave with me? Nobody’s going to suspect anything.”

“I would, but she invited Michael. He’s asked me to ride with him.”

“Oh, I see.”

“Are you mad? I can call back and make up an excuse.”

“That’s okay, love,” he answered in a curt tone.

“Doesn’t sound like it-.”

“I’m good. Listen, I got a few things to handle. I’ll hit you back later.”

Yahya ended the call, not giving you a chance to respond.

This shit ends Friday. I know just how to make him go ghost. I’m done playing games with this woman.

He scrolled through his contacts, tapping the name he was searching for. The phone trilled twice before he heard the familiar voice. Making small talk, Yahya waited for the perfect moment to put his plan in motion.

“Hey, Jerrika. How’s it going?

“Oh, yeah? That’s wassup. Listen, I was wondering. Do you have plans for Friday night?”

“Perfect. Be ready by eight. I want you to ride to this kickback with me.”

Yahya made more small talk, and she told him what she had been up to lately. As he listened, a twinge of guilt pulsed through his chest. His mind was riddled with second thoughts. Using her this way made him feel a bit guilty. He wanted to be truthful with Jerrika. Interrupting her mid-sentence, he explained his intentions for Friday night's kickback. To his surprise, she appreciated his honesty. Jerrika wasn’t shocked-they had known each other awhile. She had an inkling Yahya was attracted to his best friend. Not only was she aware of his feelings. Jerrika offered to help out in any way she could. Yahya spent a few more moments on the phone discussing the plan.

Lying in bed, he stared at the ceiling, hands folded behind his head. Thoughts racing through his head, he contemplated whether his plan would help or hurt things. He cleared his mind and closed his eyes, trying to fall asleep. Yahya’s phone dinged right as he started to nod off. Groaning, he snatched it from the nightstand. You had texted, “Not you hanging up on me mid-sentence. Goodnight to you too, mean ass.” Truthfully, he felt like a dick for abruptly ending the call. Also, for what he was about to pull Friday night. It felt like his only option that would give you the push needed. He quickly texted you back, “I’m sorry, mama. I promise to hit you first thing in the morning. Goodnight, love.”

Friday had come around much quicker than you anticipated. Your sis had hit you up early that morning. She begged for you to arrive several hours early to help set up. Being a helpful and dependable best friend, the request was granted. However, twenty minutes after your arrival, you started to regret it.

The two of you hadn’t seen each other for a while. You were greeted with a lecture about not making time for girl's night lately. According to the crew, you had been neglecting your homegirls and spending too much time with your sneaky link. Defending yourself, you brought up the numerous times they brushed you aside for their new flavor of the month. To which they did not argue and immediately forgave you.

Believing you were off the hook, your best friend put you on the spot again. She grinned at you mischievously, “We cracked the case, sis.”

With a confused expression, you responded, “What the hell are you going on about?”

“Bitch, don’t play stupid.”

“I honestly have no clue what you’re talking about, sis.”

“We figured out who sneaky link is,” she smirked at you. “It’s about time you two dumbasses got together.”

You started to deny it, “What are you talking about-.”

“We know you and Yahya have been fucking around. Which one of your horny asses gave in first?”

You busied yourself with setting up the bar as you ignored her question. Snatching the liquor bottles and setting them down, your best friend crossed her arms, waiting for you to confess. Her foot tapped against the floor as the rest of your friends cocked their heads to the side. Rolling your eyes at the group of nosey ass women, you asked, “What makes you all think it’s Yahya?”

Each woman smirked at you until your best friend piped up, “If you're going to keep it low-key, don’t make a sound in your sexcapades while recording. Also, make sure your friends don’t know or follow him on social media.”

Fucking Yahya and his pornographic IG story.

“Oh, it wasn’t just his mini-sex vid. I kick it with his homie. That little pic you posted? Yahya canceled plans with them that night. Naturally, he came to dick me down when plans fell through. I mentioned the pic, and we put two and two together.”

“Whatever, nosey ass Heffa. It’s not even that deep. We fuck around occasionally,” you snarked, rolling your neck.

“On occasion, my ass. You’ve been getting dicked down on the regular. None of us make it a habit to sleep with multiple people. Therefore that is a consistent dick down, and you know it.”

“Who else knows about us?”

“Pretty much anyone who knows what you sound like when you moan. Given that we were all roommates at one time, we, unfortunately, know what that shit sounds like. Your ass never could keep it down. Don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with us,” she smirked.

“You bitches get on my nerves. I’m going home to finish getting ready.”

“Don’t leave mad, best friend! We’re honestly happy you two came to your senses. Finally locked his fine ass down.”

“One, I’m not mad. Two, he’s not my man. We fuck. That’s it.”

Your friends gave each other a knowing look, irritating you further. You snatched your keys from the Louis Vuitton handbag. “I gotta go for real. I need to be ready by the time Michael picks me up.” A multitude of gasps sounded in the room. Rolling your eyes, you braced yourself for more unwanted opinions.

“Does Yah’ know you’re rolling with Mike tonight?”

“Yes,” you answered exhaustedly.

“And he’s okay with that?”

“What part of that’s not my man do you all not understand? Besides, Michael and I are just friends. Yahya knows that. He doesn’t believe it, but that’s not my problem.”

Is that a little petty? Maybe, but I don’t want Michael, honestly. We’re just friends. If he expects more, he’s in for a rude awakening. It’s not like Yah’s not out here, entertaining bitches. I’m not falling for the bullshit with any more men. Best friend or not, men lie all the time…okay maybe that’s not fair. I need to work on trusting men again. On second thought, no, fuck that shit. Single is the best way to be. No games. No lies. No cheating. No heartbreak. I just need that superb dick and toe-curling head.

The sound of fingers snapping in your face pulled you from your thoughts.

“You not even listening to us. Girl, stop lying to yourself and give that man a chance. Yahya’s not like your past relationships. He cares for you.”

“It always starts that way. I’m good with being what we are.”

Before she could continue to chastise you for being scared, you dipped out.

The evening was already turning sour. Sitting on your best friend's couch, you watched as Michael made small talk with a mutual friend. His eyes scanned the room, landing on you as he bit his lip, giving you a seductive smile. One of your girls nudged you, “ I saw that face you made when he looked away. Are you two into it? Or are you still mad that we got all in your business earlier?

“I’m fine,” you lied.

She looked at you, not believing a word you said. It wasn’t just the man that had accompanied you to the party. Though that was where most of your frustration came from, you were also irritated that Yahya hadn’t shown up yet. His text throughout the week had been short and sweet. You were starting to feel like he was avoiding you.

“Are you going to tell me what’s bothering you? Or am I going to have to force it out of you?”

Sighing loudly, you started, “While I didn’t appreciate being interrogated earlier, that isn’t my issue.”

“Bitch! Just tell me why you have a stank-ass attitude,” she teased.

“I would if your rude ass would stop interrupting me,” you shot back. “I think I pissed Yah’ off. We had a conversation Sunday night. I mentioned the kickback, and he offered to come and leave together. He started acting weird when I told him Michael had already asked me to ride with him. I don’t understand why he’s angry. I told Yahya we’re just friends. That I’d slide through afterward.”

“Your green ass. It doesn’t matter what you say. Though you’re not interested, I’m sure Yah’ knows Mike wants to knock you down…real bad.”

“Trust me, that’s abundantly clear now. Michael’s not getting one ounce of this pussy. He’s about to find that shit out real quick. This ninja kept trying to rub my thighs on the ride over here. I had to cross my damn legs just to get him off me.”

Just as your friend was about to respond, she gasped. You nearly caught whiplash, turning to stare in the same direction.

“What’s wrong with your dramatic ass-.”

Glancing toward the entrance, you saw the person you’d been searching for all evening. The fact that he wasn’t alone sent a tiny sliver of jealousy through your body. Shaking it off, you rationalize internally, “Chill, sis. That’s not your man. That could be just a friend.” It did very little to tamp down the mild bout of jealousy.

You will not be petty and use Mike to make him angry. That thought was stomped out as his guest turned, and you got a look at who she was. This is why I’m single. Friend my ass. You chuckled bitterly as Yahya and his company made their way over to you. Are they holding hands? Oh, okay. Bet it the fuck up! Don’t give him a reaction. They’re all the same. Fine ass. Lyin’ ass ninja. Yahya greeted you and your friend as you gave him an expressionless stare. Introductions were short and sweet, excusing yourself after. Though he had irritated you, Michael called you over at the right time. You could feel Yahya’s eyes boring into your back as you crossed the room.

Being bold and not taking the hint from earlier, he slipped his arm around your waist, tugging you closer. As he attempted to whisper sweet nothings in your ear, you made eye contact with Yahya. You watched as his jaw ticked, and he draped his arm around Jerrika, pulling her closer to his side. Her hand slid down from his chest and rested on the abs you had traced with your tongue just last weekend. Yahya watched as your eyes narrowed at the gesture and smirked at you. His face fell as he watched Michael kiss your cheek. The look of disappointment was enough for you to step away from Michael. “I have to go check on the bar, be right back.” It was enough to keep him from questioning why you removed yourself from him.

Quickly glancing over the bar, you made a beeline for the kitchen. All you wanted was time to pull it together and gather your thoughts. Yahya, however, had other plans. He stood at the kitchen entrance, fixing you with an angry stare. Crossing your arms, you returned his glare.

“What,” you spat, rolling your eyes.

Yahya’s head leaned back, “You and your boyfriend looking real cozy out there.”

You laughed bitterly, “Says the one that’s here with the woman that he claims he’s no longer fucking. Is that not what you told me last weekend, friend? The audacity to have the very bitch you say you don’t want all in my face.”

“I didn’t lie. I’m no longer sleeping with her. You came with a friend. I figured I could bring one as well.”

“Difference is I haven’t had sexual relations with my friend. Can you say the same,” you questioned.

“Whatever, man. You’re tripping.”

“Be honest with me, Yah’. Are you still sleeping with Jerrika?”

“I just watched that thirsty ass dude damn near suck on your neck, and you’re seriously sitting here questioning my loyalty? You keep accusing me of shit. It’s making me wonder if that’s due to a guilty conscience. Why trip? We’re not together, remember?”

“That’s what this about? A fucking title? How many times do I have to say it, Yahya? I don’t fucking want-.”

Your sentence came to a halt as Jerrika stepped into the kitchen.

“Pardon me for interrupting, but could you show me where the bathroom is?”

Feeling slightly guilty for stealing Yahya’s attention, you offered, “This my sis’ house. I’ll show you.”

Jerrika winked at Yahya and turned to follow you out of the kitchen. That looks like a disaster waiting to happen. He wondered if it was wise to leave you and his date unattended. Just as he was about to go and check on the two of you, Michael entered the room.

“Ay, bro. Where’s your sis at,” he asked, referring to you.

Through clenched teeth, Yahya answered, “More like a best friend. I know things about her that siblings wouldn’t share,” he smirked at the expression on Michael’s face. “She’s showing Jerrika where the bathroom is. They’ll be back shortly.”

“You make a good point. Maybe you could give me some advice on her. Maybe put in a good word for me?”

The look that crossed Michael’s face made Yahya feel uneasy. Stepping closer, he lowered his voice, not wanting anyone to hear.

“You saw that picture she posted of whoever it was between her thighs?”

Yahya chuckled knowingly, “Oh yeah. I saw that post. She seemed to enjoy herself that night,” he smiled at Michael’s cluelessness.

“That’s what I’m saying. You’re her best friend. Put me on, bro. I’m trying to take her thick ass down.”

“She posted up with another dude, and you’re still trying to slide? I don’t think she gets down like that.”

“If I manage to steal his shortie, that’s his problem,” Michael boasted.

“So you think my friend bounces from dude to dude? Watch your mouth, little nigga. You don’t know her like that to be making assumptions,” Yahya barked, approaching Michael aggressively.

“Chill, bro. No disrespect-.”

You and Jerrika had entered the kitchen as things had started to get heated between Michael and Yahya. Trading a knowing glance with your best friend's date, the both of you got in between the two of them.

“What’s going on? Calm down,” you soothed Yahya as you unknowingly rubbed his arm. Jerrika tugged Michael backward as well. Not wanting to ruin your evening, Yahya lied, “We’re just having a debate about sports. You know how passionate I can get, love.”

He didn’t want to spend another minute in Michael’s presence. Turning to Jerrika, Yahya placed a hand on her back.

“Let’s go get you that drink you asked for earlier.”

As they walked past Michael, he leaned in, mumbling something.

“Good luck trying to fill her man’s shoes. Bro pretty much got her locked down. She just doesn’t know it yet.”

You watched as he guided her to the bar, hand placed above her ass. There goes that damn jealousy. Get it together, bitch. It’s just a sneaky link. Michael interrupted your thoughts yet again. “Come on, beautiful. Let’s rejoin the party.” His hand cupped your side as he guided you toward the music. The song changed, and Michael wrapped his arms around your waist.

“This my shit,” he groaned in your ear.

He pulled you closer, singing the words against your neck. The irritation for this man grew stronger with every unwanted advance he gave.

His thirsty ass is getting on my damn nerves. I’m deleting this man from everything as soon as I get to Yah’s. If I’m even still invited. That’s right. I still want the dick. Thirsty hoes be damned.

Michael's hand groped your thighs as he pressed up against you. You started to push his hands away and check him but felt fingers wrap around your wrist. With one strong tug, your steps fumbled behind a very pissed-off Yahya. Your mind hadn’t fully finished processing what was happening. It wasn’t until after he yanked you into a guest bathroom, closing and locking the door, that you started to catch on. Yahya pressed you against the door as his hand circled your throat. Wild eyes bore into yours as his chest heaved. He took a few moments to inhale and exhale.

“I don’t give a fuck what we are. He’s done touching you from this point on,” he said in a low and gravelly voice.

“Yah-.”

“I’m serious, Y/N. Whatever the fuck you two got going on. It’s done.”

“Last I checked, you’re not my father, and I barely listen to him anyway. Worry about what the hell you got going on with Jamaica.”

“You know that’s not her name,” he smirked.

“Whatever that hoe’s name is. Worry about what she got going on. Not me.”

“Your stubborn ass. You know damn well I brought that girl just to piss you off. It’s clear that it worked.”

“I’m not the one that got jealous and snatched you up like a rag doll.”

“Fine. I have no issue admitting I’m jealous. I want you, mama. All to myself.”

“You have me, Yah’. I told you I don’t want him, and I’m not sleeping with anyone else.”

“Let me be clear. I want you, all of you. Give me a chance, mama. I’m not all those other men that fumbled your pretty ass. Tell me that’s not what you want. Look me in my eyes and say it.”

“What’s wrong with the way things are?”

“What the fuck are you scared of? You can’t honestly sit there and tell me you don’t want the same. If that’s the case, you wouldn’t be salty over Jerrika.”

Yahya was right, but you kept letting your fear of another heartbreak cloud your judgment. You attempted to deflect.

“We’re being rude to our guests. Let’s go back to the party and finish this discussion later.”

“No, that shit’s out the window. You’re not going back out there so he can feel all on you. I told him you were dealing with someone. I even wished him good luck at trying to steal you for himself. It looks like I have to let him know what the fuck is up.”

“What does that even mean-.”

His hand circled your neck again. Pushing you back against the door, Yahya’s mouth clashed with yours hungrily. There was no sense in fighting it. Your body had been yearning for his attention all night. You felt him bend forward into the kiss, his hands reaching to hoist you up. Thick thighs locked around his waist as he ground against you. The back of your head fell against the door whimpering as Yahya’s lips trailed from your neck to the top of your breast. His tongue made contact with your skin, teeth nipping at the exposed flesh.

He groaned against your soft skin, “You wear this sexy little dress for me? Or your boyfriend?”

“Fuck you, Yah’,” you moaned.

“Oh, I plan to, baby.”

Yahya continued to lick and suck at the tops of your breast as his free hand snaked underneath the hem of your dress. A guttural groan vibrated against the bathroom walls as he felt your bare, wet, silky flesh.

“You’ve been hanging around with that dumbass with no fucking panties on,” he growled.

“Yes, but I didn’t do this for him. At the last minute, I made up my mind that I wanted to leave with you. I did this for you, baby.”

“That’s what the fuck I thought.”

The most erotic moan fell from your lips as two fingers dove into your slick heat. You started to ride his fingers, crying out, “Yes! Baby.”

Yahya sucked, nibbled, and groaned against your throat. “That’s it, mama. Let them hear you. I know you can be louder than that.”

His fingers sped up, scissoring in and out of your dripping folds. The feeling became too much as your core started to tighten. He could feel your muscles squeezing around his digits.

“That’s it, love. Let go. Come all over Daddy’s fingers.” He pushed deep enough, tapping your spot.

“Oh, f-fuck. Yahya!”

Still pumping his long digits slowly, he watched you ride out your high. He whispered sweet praise into your ear, “That’s a good girl. You did good, baby.”

Slowly sliding his fingers from inside you, he licked his fingers clean. You watched in awe as your tongue slid across your bottom lip. He smirked, knowing your freaky ass wanted a taste. Cupping your chin, Yahya pulled you in for a sloppy kiss. Your tongues wrestled for control as your hands undid his belt. Yahya pulled back, smiling, “Here?”

“I can’t wait until we get home. I want you now.”

He watched you unbutton and unzip his jeans, using both hands to push his pants and underwear down. Yahya scrunched your dress around your waist as he lined up with your entrance. He slid the tip in, pausing afterward. Your eyes narrowed, “stop fucking teasing me.”

“I’ll give you this dick now, but you better not hold back. Your better scream my fucking name like you do when we’re alone. Let that little bitch out there know who owns this pussy.”

You gave him a frantic nod thrusting your hips, trying to slide lower onto his throbbing member. A whine echoed as he slapped your thigh, “I’m running this shit, brat.” Your mouth opened to respond sarcastically, but Yahya slammed inside you, leaving you breathless.

“Thought that would shut your ass up,” he growled.

Yahya thrust deeper and deeper, causing your eyes to roll back. He angled you to where his pulsing rod tapped against that special little sponge. Your heels dug against him, and your nails scratched at his back. You skyrocketed toward a release, crying out his name repetitively.

“Yahya, yes! Yahya, please! Daddy,” you screamed, shaking violently.

He slowed his strokes long enough to bring you back down again. Pushing at his shoulder, you signaled that you wanted down. Yahya assumed you couldn’t take anymore and placed you on your feet. He held onto your waist to help you regain composure. Once you were stable, he reached for his zipper, but you stopped him.

“Wait, baby.”

Yahya looked puzzled. That was until your hands pressed into his chest, shoving him against the door. Dropping to your knees, he started to understand what you meant. Your glossy lips brushed against the tip of his thick member. His breath hitched as you licked around it. Your hands rested on his thighs as you took every inch down your throat.

Yahya’s groan reverberated throughout the room, “Got damn. Fuck, just like that, mama.” You hummed around his dick, forcing another growl from him. No longer able to control himself, Yahya gave in to his animalistic needs. His hands dug into your hair as Yahya pistoned against the back of your throat. The more you gagged around him, the closer he came to a release. One hand trailed from his thigh down to cup his balls. Massaging them, Yahya fucked your throat faster.

“Fuck, mama. I’m about to bust.”

Knowing how to send him over the edge, you hummed around his length. His hips stuttered a few times as he called out your name, sending his release down your throat. He plucked you from the floor, shoving his tongue into your mouth.

“Get dressed. I’m taking your fine ass home,” he demanded, smacking your behind.

Thankful for your richly melanated skin, you could hide a blush as the two of you rejoined the group. It was evident that everyone had heard the two of you. Your friends looked at you with knowing looks. Even Jerrika was smirking at the pair of you. The only person who seemed to be bothered was, of course, Michael. Not knowing what to say, Yahya stepped in, announcing your goodbyes. He dragged you toward a smiling Jerrika.

“I’m good, Yahya. I can catch a ride with someone or Uber. You wore that poor woman out in a packed party. Take your lady home.”

“Wait, you know about us,” you questioned his date.

“Sorry boo, I was in on this whole, make her jealous scheme,” she giggled.

“I should be mad at you two, but it did give me the push I needed. I guess he’s my man now, or whatever.”

“Took your ass long enough.”

“Not too much on me. I got trust issues. You know that.”

Yahya pulled you into his side as you made your exit. Unable to help himself, he made a stop on the way out.

“Alright now, be easy, bro. Don’t worry about driving her home tonight. Daddy got her,” he smiled cockily at the pissed look on Michael’s face.

“Don’t be upset, bro. I told you, baby girl had a man.”

“That’s cool. I’m not really into hoes anyway.”

The room went eerily silent. You tugged at Yahya’s hand, begging him to ignore him.

“He’s just trying to get a rise out of you, Yah’. Just come with me, please. He’s not worth it.”

You had almost convinced him to turn the other cheek, but Michael added fuel to the fire.

“That’s right. Listen to your loose ass bitch.”

Acting quickly, you stepped between the two men.

“I got this, Yahya.”

He was aware that you were a little spitfire. Curiosity got the best of him, so he obliged, stepping back to let you handle your shit like a grown-ass woman. Spinning on your heels, you tilted your head back to look Michael in the eyes.

“You thought you ate with that, huh?”

He smirked, shrugging his shoulders. Proud of calling a woman out her name not once but twice. Stepping closer, your voice filled with venom.

“Stop pretending in front of all these folks, Mike. I was never giving a weak-ass man such as yourself a chance. I don’t know why your pride is so hurt. I’ve told you several times that this wasn’t going beyond friendship. What? You send me dick pics, and you think I’m trying to take that shit for a ride? What good is all that penis if you don’t know how to work it? That’s right, boo. The ladies have been talking. The word around town is your stroke game’s weak as fuck. I wouldn’t even let you get a lick, let alone fuck you.”

He sat there embarrassed and stunned by what you revealed to the room. Trying to save face, he made one last attempt to bring you down.

“Nobody checking for that fat ass bitch anyway.”

His hand slipped from your grasp before you could stop him. Yahya stomped over to Michael, sending one hard blow to his face. With just one punch, he knocked him out cold. Making his way back to you, Yahya grabbed your hand, kissing it.

“It had to happen, mama. My mouth will make it up to you when we get home," he pecked your lips, tugging you out the door, to his vehicle.

Yahya leaned in, breath fanning against your neck. His hand reached across your lap, clasping you into the seatbelt. Yahya playfully bit your jaw, grazing your breast as he pulled away. As he started to close your door, he rasped, "You might want to take a nap on the way home. I'm about to have you wrapped around me all night. In more ways than one."

I honestly don't know where all this came from. My imagination just ran with it and made a movie😂. Hopefully, you all enjoyed it as much as I did writing it💕. Feedback and reblogs are very much appreciated. Enjoy the rest of your day, lovelies!

Gif Credit: @abdulmateens, thanks again for allowing me to use it for my mood board💗.

Divider Credit: @firefly-graphics.

Tagging a few lovelies:

@sheabuttahwrites , @moebuttta , @darqchilddaydreamz

@alertyoulikeitsamber , @astoldbychae , @miyuhpapayuh

@sunshine-flower , @nightlywords7 , @4everbrookemarie

@delta7of96 , @novaniskye , @1andonlytashae

@shaolyninferno , @mcdesij , @willadean

@partygetsmewetter-x , @blackerthings , @peachbuttetfly

@theraieinfluence , @honestpreference , @queeniekiy

@tashawar , @skyesthebomb , @captainwithoutmakingitlove

#berberriescorner #nobody's gonna know #part two #daddy yahya #yahya abdul mateen ii #yahya abdul mateen ii fanfiction #yahya abdul mateen ii x black!reader #yahya abdul mateen ii x reader #black writer #black fanfic writer #black fanfiction #yahya fanfiction #yahya fic #yahya abdul-mateen ii fanfic #yahya abdul-mateen ii fanfiction #spotify

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ororowrites · 3 years

Text

Scripted - Yahya x Black OC

Sweet Thang- Chapter 3

One-shot: By the Open Fire

Chapters: 1 2

Warnings: Language

Word Count: 2,003

Two months later

Candace finished her last night at Dynasty and vowed to never return. She had collected enough money to support the remaining tuition payments, graduation fees and the application fee for Yale’s School of Drama. March had snuck upon her and her application was due in a month for the 2012-2013 school term. The process was daunting because this was the only M.F.A program she planned to apply to and she prayed this wasn’t a mistake. Yale was her dream school and though she was the type to have a plan B, C and Z, she was gambling on her resume and audition tapes.

Yahya had already made one visit to Los Angeles, since he met Candace at Dynasty. He was collecting unemployment and attending acting classes to get more experience to add to his resume. They had talked about his plan moving forward and Yahya was enjoying acting so much, he planned to apply to Yale as well. Candace had convinced him to live a little and follow his heart and talent. Even if his application was denied, he would have the experience and could apply to another program. During their acting class, Candace was surprised by Yahya’s natural talent in theatre. He deeply connected with the scripts and scenarios and she was in awe of how he could change his entire persona to fit the character. Candace wouldn’t admit it, but her attraction to Yahya was growing. Not only was he physically attractive, but his sensitivity and thoughtfulness made him appealing. He was also attracted to Candace and took his time getting to know her, while also respecting her space after her breakup.

Another acting coach was in town and Yahya made the trip to LA to attend a session with Candace. It had been two weeks since his last visit and he was eager to get into another class and spend time with his friend. They decided to meet at Candace’s apartment and ride to their class together.

“Do you think this man will make us cry on cue or what,” Candace joked, flipping on her turn signal to take the exit off the expressway.

“It’s called the Degree of Emotion, I’m sure we’re crying in this class,” Yahya chuckled, scrolling through his email for job postings. Right now, he was living off of unemployment and his savings, he would need a job sooner rather than later.

“I can’t cry on cue. It takes a bit of coaching to get me there. Hopefully this class can give me some pointers,” Candace revealed.

Dr. Ben Mayer, renowned acting coach to many in the industry and professor at Julliard, was standing in the middle of the stage when the students arrived. As they walked into the class, he recited an excerpt from the Odyssey. His heavy voice carried throughout the theatre, capturing everyone’s attention before they reached their seats. Yahya grabbed Candace’s hand, helping her down the dark theatre stairs and to the front row.

“Welcome to the Degree of Emotion. I’m Dr. Ben Mayer, your instructor for today. Please use the first two rows. Don’t be shy, I don’t bite,” the instructor ordered, pointing to the empty seats in front of the stage. “Today, I’ll be working with you on how to convey emotion with your voice, body language and expressions. Many that come into this field think showing emotion is only about crying or showing sadness onscreen or onstage. Emotion is more than that though. Anyone can be trained to cry on cue but what about that makes you feel like the character you’re portraying. Are you stepping into your character’s shoes or simply putting on a hat? Stepping into the shoes is more powerful and more fulfilling than putting on a hat. You walk in shoes and feel them out. So, I’m going to teach you how to do that.”

For the second half of the class, the group split up into groups of two and practiced different scripts. Dr. Mayer watched each group and offered criticism and advice. Candace was in Yahya’s group and they were supposed to be performing a piece about a couple who hit a rough patch. She felt good about this particular script because of her recent breakup but to her surprise, her performance fell flat for Dr. Mayer. He told her she was wearing a hat instead of stepping into Charlotte’s shoes and she had a lot to work on when it came to emotional acting.

That criticism stuck with Candace and ate at her for the remainder of the class. The second half of the course was in three weeks, where they would perform their scenes in front of their peers.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Yahya proposed as they walked to a near-by coffee shop.

“I can handle criticism. It’s being told I don’t convey emotion that bugs me. No instructor has ever said that and here I am trying to get into Yale not conveying enough fuckin’ emotion,” Candace spat between her teeth. Being a perfectionist ended up being her downfall in many things. She believed in being perfect at her crafts, which is how she ended up in extra acting classes outside of her regular theatre courses. “Are my emotions not believable, Yah?”

“That’s coming from one instructor. We all have different ways of approaching this acting thing. But if you want to work on it, I’m here for a couple of more days. We can practice. No biggie.”

“I don’t know why I’m this bothered about this shit. But I’m going to give his ass emotion next time,” she promised, tossing her curls behind her ear.

-------

Trinity was out studying with some friends, leaving the apartment free for acting practice and a late brunch. Yahya was on fruit duty, while Candace made waffles and turkey bacon.

“What do you think is holding you back,” Yahya questioned, glancing over at his acting partner who was concentrating on whisking the lumps out of her pancake mix.

“Fear of failure. I think too much when it comes to certain scenes and end up closing myself off,” she replied after a few long seconds of silence. “That’s my only explanation. After all that stuff with Maxwell, it got worse, I guess.”

“I did this class in San Fran and the instructor had us doing meditation before we got to the acting. Maybe you can try that when you have those hard scenes. It helped me because I get too into my own head at times, too,” he offered, wiping his hands on a towel. “For now.... I need you to relax.”

Once Candace felt Yahya’s strong hands on her shoulders, she could have melted into a puddle in the middle of the kitchen floor. He massaged the tense muscles and rested his chin on top of her head. She hummed in relief, leaning back into his big body.

“Instead of thinking about how you can hide Dr. Mayer’s body, think about how you can prove him wrong. Put all that anger into Charlotte because she needs you in order to come alive.”

“Okay,” Candace sighed.

“Let’s try meditation first,” he suggested, leading Candace to the living room. “Try to get you nice and relaxed before we start.”

They meditated for ten minutes before returning to the kitchen to clear up counter space.

“Ready?” Yahya nodded towards his scene partner and earned a nervous nod in response.

Charlotte and Tyreik - TAKE ONE

“You’ve changed, Ty. Changed in ways you may not realize but I see it. Hell, I feel it too. When we supposedly make love and you aren’t present...you fill me up but you feel empty,” Candace spoke, shifting her weight from hip to hip. Playing Charlotte made her nervous for some reason. Maybe it was her own fear of opening up to another man after having her heart stomped to pieces by Maxwell. Like Charlotte, she no longer wanted to be a doormat to anyone, especially the opposite sex.

“You sure you even know how to feel anymore,” Yahya replied, pretending to cut invisible vegetables on the cutting board.

“Excuse me?”

“You can’t stand here and tell me you feel a thing, Char. I’ve been trying to talk to you about our relationship for months. But you’re always busy or too tired. So yeah....I’ve changed.”

The conversation was similar to one she had with Maxwell, except the roles were reversed. Like Yahya suggested, she dug deeper to find that spark that would turn on the switch.

“Because you talk at me. Yelling isn’t talking and it won’t get my attention,” she shot back, narrowing her eyes. “And the only reason you’re even talking is because you feel guilty.”

Yahya slammed his hands against the the cold, marble countertop, causing Candace to flinch. “Are we still stuck on that shit? I apologized, you accepted, it’s done. Stop bringing up old shit to hide your own insecurities.”

“We.... then why are we pretending this is what we both want? If we’re this unhappy, why are we doing this,” she mumbled, her eyes falling down to her feet.

“I don’t know. Maybe because we’re both afraid to let go of what’s familiar to us. I’m your first love and you’re my first long time relationship. Hard to let go of something you worked hard to keep going all these years.”

Dig deep, Candace. Thinking back to how she felt about Maxwell and his unborn child, Candace’s eyes began to water. “I want this to work, Ty. I really do,” she sniffed. Yahya’s eyes met hers and he tried to stay in character but he couldn’t hide how proud he was the moment he saw his advice working for Candace.

“I do too. But you have to let go of shit if you claim you forgive me,” Yahya moved in closer, letting Candace know they were close to the kissing scene.

“I’ll try,” she offered, her big, brown orbs searching his looking for a hint of Yahya. He rarely broke character, but there was an extra gleam in his eyes. This was the first time they had done anything outside of hugging. Yahya was respecting Candace’s space and allowing her to heal after her recent breakup.

Her heart beat violently against her chest when Yahya’s cologne flooded her senses. His lips became Candace’s main focus as he closed the space between them and placed his mouth on hers. The kiss was brazen, making Candace’s knees weak. Yahya placed his hands on the counter, caging in Candace’s small frame. His 6′3 frame towered over her, forcing him to duck his head down to deepen the kiss when her tongue slid past his. Since that night at the club, he had been waiting to kiss Candace’s lips. Just as he thought, they were as soft as pillows and the urge to take things to the next level invaded his thoughts.

Heat rose to Candace’s cheeks before spreading down to her belly, meeting the butterflies that were already dancing. Their scripts were long forgotten and they were well past the point of blaming their actions on their characters. Candace’s fingers toyed with the hem of Yahya’s shirt. They were both breathless when they pulled a part and Candace didn’t give Yahya time to catch his thoughts before her lips were back on his, fighting for dominance. Yahya’s shirt ended up on the kitchen floor, exposing his sculpted but slender mid-section. It was dangerous, yet neither one of them stopped it. The sexual tension had been strong from the moment they met and given the current circumstances, it was boiling over. From the slight touches and long gazes, hormones were bound to get them in this predicament. Yahya’s lips left hers and traveled to her neck, where they stayed, creating love bites.

“Do you want me to stop,” he questioned, his baritone causing a vibration between their bodies. The thumping between her ears and thumping between her legs had Candace’s mind swimming in circles.

Sorry for the wait and short chapter. We will get A LOT more Yahya and Candace in the next one though!

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