#yahya abdul mateen ii fanfics

[megamindsecretlair]

Like What I See

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

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

Summary: Stunna is dealing with a lot in regards to the business. He sends you off to have a relaxing day shopping and pampering yourself. But when you get home, Stunna can't resist you.

Word Count: 2,856k

AO3 Link

A/N: WHEW. I've been FERAAAAALLLL. So I needed to bang this out. This is as close as I get to a drabble. Toss a coin to your writer by leaving a comment or reblog!

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 @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @00aijia00 @hopefulromantic1 @lesbiantreehugger @longpause-awkwardsmile @badassdoll @kholdkill @blackpinup22 @cardi-bre91 @blowmymbackout @jay-mach @sageispunk @yourofficialgal @liyaah02 @monaeesstuff @amethyst09 @harmshake @satoruya @theunsweetenedtruth @ciaqui @multiversefanfics @tvchi

You could not wait to get home. You stared down at your freshly painted pink nails. The soft, pale color went well with your beautiful brown skin and looking at them only made you feel prettier. Doubly so because your man chose the color for you today.

Typically, your man didn’t like you driving yourself around but he had a lot of business to take care of. He handed you a stack of cash and told you to pamper yourself today. And you nearly spent every last bit of it. 

First, you stopped by your favorite beauty store and grabbed your favorite bubble bath, some candles, and some lotion. Then, you made it to the makeup store, grabbing things you did not need but absolutely wanted. Lip shine, mascara, whatever your little heart came across just because you could. Lastly, you went to the spa and got one of the best massages of your life.

You had nearly fallen asleep on the table as the masseuse worked out lingering kinks and knots into your plump skin. You had gotten the works. A facial, foot rub, nails and feet done, and some quiet time in the sauna. You were mighty relaxed and now, all you wanted to do was see your baby.

You pulled onto your quiet street, the houses as nondescript as possible. Stunna didn’t want to flaunt his wealth that much. He preferred to flaunt it in other ways. Helping out in the neighborhood, taking care of those in his employ, or simply treating you. You loved that he wasn’t a braggart. Or thought the world owed him something just because. 

When you pulled into the driveway, you frowned a bit. He was usually at the door for you, pulling it open before you even had a chance to stop the car. You got out and locked the door, leaving your bags in the back because you knew Stunna will carry it inside for you.

Once inside, the sweet aroma of fresh apples wafted through the air. It was just an air freshener, but this was one of the best things you loved about coming home. That it felt like a home, small as your family may be. It was just you and Stunna for now and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

But where was he? With all the nonsense going on in his little feud with Malcolm, you had to contend with Stunna’s diverted attention. You hated it. You didn’t want to impose, but enough was fucking enough. 

“Baby?” You called out. Your heels clicked on the runner in the foyer as you walked down the hallway in search of your husband. He wasn’t in the kitchen where he usually was or on the couch watching his games. 

You took out your phone. There were no missed calls from him. There was just the text from him telling you to drive safely when you told him that you were on your way home. This just wasn’t like him. 

You sighed. So much for being excited. You had wanted to show off your nails and gush about your day. You wanted to show off your sinfully short black skirt and white button up shirt. The sleeves billowed slightly and gave you a slightly artsy look. Paired with your heels, it was a little dressy, a little cutesy, and you loved it. 

You went upstairs, a little miffed that your outfit went to waste. The bedroom door was closed so you opened it, ready to call Stunna’s phone and see where the hell he ran off to. As the door fully opened, you were grabbed from behind with a loud yell.

You screamed, arms stretching out wide to hang onto the doorframe and prevent your attacker from pushing you inside. Raucous laughter filled the doorframe as your husband, Stunna, kissed your cheek. 

Your heart was beating so fast, it took you two tries to yell out, “You scared the shit out of me!” 

“I’m sorry, baby,” he said. “You didn’t see me on the couch and I wondered what you’d do.” 

You tried to twist out of his grasp, lowering your hands to his so that you could forcibly remove him. He didn’t budge. He held you tighter about the waist, planting soft kisses along your neck and cheek.

“Forgive me?” He mumbled in between kisses. 

“I ain’t hear no apology,” you said and sucked your teeth. Meanie. You crossed your arms because you already knew that he wasn’t going to let you go until he got what he wanted. 

“I am so, very, completely, passionately sorry,” he said in between kissing your neck, cheek, and jaw. “I won’t do anything like that again.”

You sighed. You could feel the pout in his words. “Fine, I guess I forgive you,” you said, losing the bulk of your anger. You were more scared than anything else and now that your heartbeat resembled something close to normal, there wasn’t anything left to be mad about. 

“Hm, let me see,” he said. He finally released you and you turned in his arms to look up into his gorgeous face. It felt like it had been longer than just a few hours since you’ve seen him. Like every second expanded into hours the longer you were away from him. 

You looked him over. He wore a black T-shirt and matching black sweats on his long frame. A gold chain lay around his neck and he smiled, showing off a set of gold canines. He perused you in much the same manner, taking the moment to appreciate each other and the moment. 

He smiled, so you smiled in response. He took both of your hands in his and looked at your nails. “Hm, lookin’ so pretty,” he said. He kissed the backs of both hands and then took in the rest of your outfit. 

“This what you wore outside?” He asked.

You nodded. You stepped away and did a little spin for him. “You like?” You asked.

“I love,” he said, his voice getting deeper. Lower. Your eyes flicked to his and saw the raw hunger in his eyes. He looked from your heels, to your thick thighs, all the way up to the top of your head. 

“Matter of fact, you look good enough to eat,” he said. “Get yo ass on that bed.” 

The back of your thighs tingled instantly from the sheer power of his voice. Dangerous, dangerous man. Your mouth opened into a pretty little ‘O’ as you gaped at him. “Can I freshen up first?” 

“You heard me. Bed,” he said. He stood stock still, still framed by the doorway that his head nearly brushed the top of. He rubbed his small beard, looking at you as if he wanted to rip your clothes off. 

You began to walk backwards towards the bed, keeping your eye on him with a small smile. His mouth quirked to the side, watching your shenanigans. Yes, you were complying, but in your own way, dammit. A small bit of payback for scaring you. 

When you got to the bed, you sat down, tossing your phone onto the nightstand. The bed was a Grand Turk Plush mattress, so soft and plush that you sank down onto it. It wasn’t the greatest for the wild lovemaking you two did, but it was heaven on both of your backs so you’d take it. 

Stunna finally moved from the doorway, stalking towards you. When he got in front of you, you had to lean back just to continue looking in his eyes. He was that damn tall. 

You gently rubbed your thighs together, already needing a bit of friction. Nothing escaped Stunna. He smirked at you. “Open,” he said. 

Slowly, you shifted on the bed to open your legs and accommodate him in between. He sank to his knees, shoulders pressing your legs out further. Then, he reached under your skirt for your panties, drawing them down your legs. 

Your breathing turned heavy. Everything about this man just ramped up your horniness. And it wasn’t always his sex appeal. It was just him. Kind, loving, and an absolute gangster out in the streets. You’ve seen him get medieval nasty when it came to his business and the good Lord help you, but you loved it. 

Free of your panties, Stunna pushed your skirt up and around your hips. He sucked in an appreciative gasp, eyes getting bigger. 

“Please, don’t tease me right now,” you said. You couldn’t stand it. You needed him feral. Softness right now would absolutely crush you.

“”How you need me, then, baby?” He asked. 

“More. I need more. Break me in half,” you said. 

Stunna chuckled. “As my lady commands,” he said. His hands jerked out fast, grabbing the back of your knees and pulling you forward on the bed. You squealed at the unexpected roughhousing. 

Wasting no time, his lips latched onto your clit and began sucking like his life depended on it. With his gold canines and the dim room, you almost felt like you were getting devoured by a vampire. It only turned you on. 

You throbbed in his mouth and he moaned, pushing your legs on top of his shoulders. You were pretty sure your heels were digging into his back but he made no indication that it bothered him. 

“Oh, oh fuck,” you moaned. “Yes, yes, yes!” Your nails flew to his head, lighting scratching at his scalp and holding him closer. Fuck, you felt so good. You grinded on his tongue. Each swipe of his tongue pushed you closer and closer to the edge. 

If you could pay this man to eat you out for hours on end, you absolutely would. After a few years of marriage, you found that there were still things to try with him. Still new positions or a bit of role playing to introduce. Things to ask for. That would have to be one of them. See how long you could give oral before the person climaxed.

Stunna removed his mouth and you whined. His mouth was quickly replaced with his fingers. You were so slippery and wet, that it almost didn’t feel different to not have his mouth there. You continued to twist and writhe on the bed, body tensing as you got closer.

“I been dealing with shit all day, but I’ve been dreaming about tasting you,” he said.

You huffed a laugh. “You ate me out this morning,” you said. 

“Fuck that mean?” He asked. To emphasize his point, he dipped two fingers inside of you. Once his fingers were coated in your essence, he pumped them faster and harder, shaking his palm against your clit. Your toes curled in your heels. Your thighs strained around his shoulders. 

Your breathing turned ragged. Your hand flailed, looking for a place to grab on to. But he was too far out of reach. Stunna only watched you struggle and squirm, not giving you the anchor you were seeking. 

“Even at my angriest today, I just pictured this. You absolutely undone on my fingers,” he said. His voice grew quieter as if allowing room for your climax to get louder. Your whimpers and whines turned to keening cries as your back bowed and you finally came. You gushed onto his fingers.

Stunna continued to finger fuck you, encouraging the sounds you were making. “Music,” he said.

“So, so mean,” you panted as you shivered from such an intense orgasm. 

“You wanna see me get really mean?” He asked.

He didn’t wait for you to respond. He stood up abruptly, dropping your legs to the edge of the bed. He stood up to his full height and then grabbed your legs once more, pulling you until your ass half hung off of the bed.

“I’m gonna fall!” You screamed.

“I ain’t never gon’ let something happen to you,” he promised. He hooked your legs around his waist and then he pushed his sweats down low enough to free his thick, fat dick. 

You may have moaned. You may have drooled. Whatever it is that you did, made Stunna chuckle as he tapped his dick against your wet pussy. It made delicious wet smacking sounds and you moaned from the impact and from the filthiness of it. 

He swirled his tip through your folds, coating his dick in your essence. He looked at you, right in the eye. “I just want you to know that I love you,” he said.

You tilted your head at him, wondering what he meant by that. Then, he slammed home in one hard thrust. It was so quick, you were feeling so full, that your mouth dropped open but no sound came out. 

Stunna didn’t care. He began to pound away inside you like a man possessed. As if your pussy held the fountain of youth. Or was the lost city of Atlantis. You could hardly breathe as he rammed his fat dick inside of you, over and over. He found a steady, punishing pace that made you see stars.

You could only look up at the popcorn ceiling as he rammed inside. “Breathe baby,” Stunna grunted. “Breathe or I’ll stop.” 

You nodded, still not trusting your lungs. But you also didn’t want him to stop. So you forced air into your lungs, taking heaping big breaths to get your mind acting right again. “Oh fuckfuckfuckfuck,” you cried. Tears gathered in your eyes. 

Only him. Only your husband. Only this man made all others pale in comparison. The world could go to hell at the moment and you’d still only have eyes and love for this man. 

Your hands clawed at his shirt as he drooped forward, planting a wet kiss on your forehead. His necklace swung powerfully with his thrusts. His gold canines flashed as he tilted his head up a bit to give you a quick glance over. 

He moaned low and deep in his chest. Never breaking stride, he lifted off of you and then began to unbutton your shirt with one hand. The other pressed into the mattress against your side to keep his balance.

“Put them hands on me,” he commanded. You obliged by wrapping your hand around the arm beside you and the other on his shoulder. He groaned as your hands found his skin. 

“Fuck, feeling so good. Baby. Fuck, fuck,” you moaned. You were so close again. So soon. It was too much. Your head flopped from side to side. Trying to stay in the game but knowing that your ass needed to tap out. 

The hand on his shoulder tried to push him, to ease him up, to slow him down. But he persisted. “Just remember, I love you,” he said again. He smirked as you groaned, your eyes rolling into the back of your head.

He freed enough of your buttons to push the shirt apart and show him your white bra. He hooked a finger down the center and pulled far enough to free your titties from the cups. Pushed under your titties, the bra made your titties stand out. 

He grinned as if he’d found the prize at the bottom of a cereal box. He leaned forward again, bringing his lips to your sensitive nipples.

Once he latched on, your body began to jerk and twitch out of your control. Fuck, that felt amazing. Pleasure rippled through your body like waves, as you screamed and cried his name. 

“Yes, baby, let them neighbors know my name,” he grunted. He pumped a few more times, tongue laving at your chest as he finally moaned one last time and spilled inside of you.

His cum was scalding and shot out in spurts, bathing your insides. You cried as he continued moving as if his body was no longer his to control. 

You both panted as he half collapsed on top of you. He looked up at you and you couldn’t help giggling with him.

“What the hell got into you?” You asked when you finally trusted your voice. 

“Everything about you, my love. Everything,” he said. 

He climbed further onto the bed, not leaving from inside of you as he dropped the full weight of himself on top of you. You laughed under the weight of him. 

“You get on my nerves!” You giggled, struggling for breath underneath him. 

Stunna chuckled and then finally rolled over. He brought you with him until you were the one laying on top of him. His hands gripped your waist, pushing your skirt further up so that it could flutter naturally around his waist. 

“I wanna feel you bounce on this dick. I got some more loads for you,” he said. He thrusted his hips, making you bounce on him as if he were an unruly pony. You laughed and laughed, sides starting to hurt.

“More loads for me, huh?” You asked. 

“Hell yeah. I need to fill you up so I can watch it slide out,” he said with a saucy wink.

You rolled your eyes but nothing was stopping you from getting what he promised.

The end.

More Big Stunna here we goo: The Secret Big Stunna Files

[itsbackwoodsbby]

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.

[henneseyhoe]

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 😭

[berberriescorner]

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

[royallyprincesslilly]

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.

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

TagList:

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@littlepreciousangel @msblkfire84 @id-do-it-for-free-babe @my-rosegold-soul @sadthotsonlylove @arination99 @wondersofdreaming @veganvampre @ohsoverykeri @mery-be @insanitytreason @mauvecherie @xximpressions @turnthepageandbeburnt @turn-thy-paige @reignandrain @brownsugarcoffy​ @udeadass

[thefantasyride]

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. 🤝🏾

[scaryspears]

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.)

[megamindsecretlair]

So Full of Love

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

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. SMUT. PWP, cursing, PIV, oral (female and male receiving) fingering, (female receiving) , use of sex toys, orgasm control, teasing/mocking, cum play/swallowing, size kink, dirty talk, praise kink, all consensual. ONE SHOT!!!

Summary: Stunna comes home late one night and finds out that you haven't eaten all day.

Word Count: 5,208k

A/N: I could not get this out of my mind. Maybe it's the full moon, maybe it's Maybelline. I'm definitely exposing myself and this is definitely self-indulgent, but I hope you enjoy! How'd this taglist get so long??? LOVE YALL! Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! And please put ages in bios! Or get blockt!

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

You backspaced on the draft you were currently working on, not liking your word choice. Had you used it too many times in a short span of time? Probably. 

You groaned. You were probably thinking too much but it couldn’t be helped. You needed it to match whatever scene was playing in your head between your two characters. You could see it so clearly. But it lost its luminesce by the time it traveled from your brain to your fingers. The edges weren’t shiny, they weren't perfect.

“Baby?” 

“Room!” You called out. You hadn’t heard the door opening and closing but that wasn’t unusual. When you were in the middle of one of your writing fugue states, you had no sense of your surroundings. A burglar could rob you blind while you were writing and you would be none the wiser. 

Stunna’s heavy footsteps traveled down the short hallway to your room. He stopped in the doorway. You glanced at him with a smile. “Hey baby,” you said.

“You are so damn cute, you know that?” He asked.

You giggled and shook your head. There was a burning need to continue. To keep going and ride your train of thought to the very end. However, it was hard to focus once Stunna was in the room. He occupied your thoughts on a near obsession level. He took up the whole room even when he was partially in it.

You glanced at him again, wearing a white polo and jeans, gold chain around his neck. He looked good enough to eat and your thoughts naturally drifted to what he had in store for you tonight. 

“You’re cute,” you said with a yawn. You rubbed your eyes. Now that you weren’t in a fugue state, your check engine light came on.

Your body creaked as you stretched, rolled your neck, cracked your knuckles. “Shit,” you groaned as you stretched again. Your muscles protested from sitting for so long. A random ache in your foot from laying it on its side. 

“You been writing all day?” He asked.

“Yeah, I had a dream that, like, completely fixed my plot hole!” You said. You grinned at him, excited about your idea. 

Your stomach grumbled, you had to pee, and your wrist was starting to burn. Everything you ignored for the past few hours was coming back to bite you in the ass. 

“You drink some water?” Stunna asked. He leaned back against the door frame, cocking his head to the side. Your body instantly reacted to how fucking fine he was. Your mind went on a little trip, imagining peeling his clothes off of him.

Stunna chuckled. “Babe? Water,” he said, his voice getting deeper. 

You pouted. “I promise I’ve had water. All sixty-four ounces like we agreed,” you said. You grinned, proud of yourself for remembering to take your breaks and get some water. You were even able to pick up your train of thought after and continue with your writing. 

He grinned, showing off a set of grills that were solid gold on his canines and hollow across his top row. It gave the illusion of a vampire and now your mind offered images of being underneath him while he sunk fangs into your neck. 

“Good. How was your lunch?” He asked.

You opened your mouth, ready to tell him that the ravioli he made for you was absolutely perfect like always. But then you got a furrow in your brow as you thought about what you did today. And eating was not one of them.

You looked away from him, sure the guilt was written all over your face. In the downturn of your lips and the widening of your eyes. 

“About that…” you said slowly. 

Stunna made a dissatisfied grunt and you continued to look everywhere but at him. Did you eat it? You would have remembered? 

You chewed on your bottom lip as you tried to remember what you did today. During your breaks, you refilled your water and you did some light stretching. Really, you were just too anxious to return to the idea. You had been proud that you remembered the water, that he wasn’t going to be upset with you about it. 

Hell, sometimes it was just hard to remember to eat. Your relationship with food was tumultuous at best. Toxic at worst. 

“Did you or did you not eat your lunch?” Stunna asked. 

You sighed. “No,” you admitted. Shit. You were on track to do everything right today. 

“Look at me,” he commanded.

It took you a couple of tries, but you turned your gaze towards him. Oh, he was pissed. His nostrils were slightly flared and his grin was gone, replaced with a disapproving look that you didn’t like to see. Well, at least when it was aimed at you. 

“I’m sorry! I forgot!” You said. Your eyes turned round, bottom lip poking out. “I’ll eat it right now!” You said.

“I know you will. What did we say about you eating?,” he said.

“I didn’t think about it,” you said. 

His face didn’t change. He continued to look at you like he didn’t know what he was going to do with you and your lack of self-preservation. You truly didn’t do it intentionally. Sometimes, you didn’t want to eat. Or feel like eating. Your screaming stomach told you that you needed to. But you always had something more interesting to do.

“Go handle business and meet me in the kitchen,” he said. He left without another word. No parting pleasantries or insights to what he was thinking. This punishment was going to be worse than last time. You could feel it in your bones.

You took care of business in the bathroom, washed your hands, and then came out to the kitchen. The smell of ravioli filled up the kitchen and Stunna stood in front of the microwave, watching the plate spin round and around.

You stood next to the table, nerves skittering throughout your body. His shoulders were sloped, head cocked to the side, and hands resting behind him on the tile countertop. You studied his profile.

Sometimes you had to pinch yourself that he was yours forever. There usually wasn’t certainty when it came to relationships. But not yours. There were zero doubts between you. Like your souls were written in the heavens before you found each other in this life. 

The microwave beeped, pulling you from your poetic mind. Stunna grabbed the plate from the microwave, a paper towel, and a fork and came into the room. He didn’t smile when he noticed you were in the room. 

Guilt tore your tummy up. He went through so much trouble to make you delicious meals every day, sometimes snacks and dessert as well if he had time, and you couldn’t remember to eat it. 

He placed the plate onto the table and pulled out the bench seat that sat against the wall. He sat down, leg extended off the edge of it, and turned to look at you. 

“Off,” he said. 

You suppressed a whine as you began to slowly take off your oversized gray T-shirt, some ratty thing that you stole from him. But it was soft and smelled like him and you practically lived in it. Your shorts were next, panties as well because you knew that was going to be his next command. Before long, you were completely nude while he was fully dressed. 

He patted his knee and you sat down on it. Stunna grabbed a box that had been sitting on the table that you didn’t see. Your heart rate spiked seeing the plain blue wicker box as he slid it across the table. 

He opened it, making noises with his mouth as if this were a simple dinner. As if he were waiting for you to sit down beside him and discuss the weather or latest TV show. He rummaged around in the box and you wondered what he would bring out. 

He waved his fingers, deciding. The anticipation tore your insides to shreds. Your breathing increased watching his hand skate over various sex toys. He finally plucked the nipple clamps out. Shit. 

You played with your fingers while he kissed your neck. “Relax,” he said.

“I can’t! You’re killing me!” You said.

“Punishments ain’t supposed to be fun, baby,” he said. 

“It was an accident!” You said.

“Once is an accident. You conveniently forget too often to not be on purpose,” he said. 

He hummed while he put the nipple clamps on you. You sighed as the clamp put pressure on your nipples. A chain dangled in between, lightly knocking against your chest every time you breathed. You instantly felt it echo as a throb in your pussy. You gripped your thighs trying to get used to the pain. 

You took deep breaths. Steam rose from the ravioli and the smell was making your mouth water. No, punishments were not supposed to be fun but you couldn’t help wondering if Stunna didn’t secretly enjoy it when you skipped meals. If he wasn’t sometimes hoping that you did so he could try out all kinds of different punishments on you. 

Next, he selected a pair of handcuffs. “Aw, baby no!” You said. 

“What?” He asked. He turned your head towards him by pinching your chin. He forced your eyes towards his. His cold, cold brown eyes, like a hibernating bear, merely stared at you. 

“Please! I’ll do better,” you pleaded with him. 

“I wish I could believe that. Hands,” he said. 

You pouted some more while you pulled your hands behind you. He leaned back and secured the handcuffs to your wrists. The fuzzy inside tickled your skin but you weren’t in a laughing mood. You wanted to touch him while you ate. You hadn’t seen him all day. 

He yanked on the chain in between the handcuffs, making sure they couldn’t come off. Then he pulled on the nipple clamps and you hissed at the tug of pain. “How you feeling?” He asked and kissed your shoulder.

“I’m good,” you said. 

Stunna nodded and picked up the fork, grabbing a piece of food. He blew on it lightly to cool it off more and brought it to your lips. You opened your mouth. It was easier to obey him now than face his wrath later. 

“Tell me about your day,” he asked you while you ate.

While he fed you, you had to concentrate on not cumming and telling him about your day. You ran some errands, you took your breaks and drank water, and did some laundry. He listened to it all as if it were his favorite news program. That your little mundane life meant the world to him.

It was a small act that only made you fall more in love with him. He didn’t have to do all that. He could be happy with the simple version of events. But he once told you that he liked listening to the sound of your voice. The way you lit up when you got on the subject of your writing.

“What was the plot hole you fixed earlier?” He asked. He fed you another bite and waited till you finished chewing. You told him how your dream helped you fix it. That it wasn’t a problem with the character’s actions, it was the setting. You were married to the setting, but sometimes you had to kill your darlings. It hurt, but it was needed.

Stunna licked the corner of your mouth and you moaned, pussy throbbing from the swipe of his tongue. “Almost done, you’re doing so well, baby,” he said.

The praise made your heart soar. You shifted on his thigh and he yanked on the chain between the handcuffs to keep you in place. You were eager. Restless and too ready to feel him. You were needy for his touches. You couldn’t touch any part of him like this. 

He was clothed so you couldn’t feel his skin on yours. Your hands were tied so your fingers couldn’t search for his. 

There was a nice little wet spot growing on his jeans underneath you. You felt it every time he bounced his knee to help you concentrate. 

He kissed your cheek and began to tell you about his day. About all the bullshit he had to put up with. He figured that you were writing when you didn’t text him back and he told you that he’d been dreaming about getting back between your legs. 

“The things I was gon’ do to you tonight,” he purred in your ear, sealing it off with a kiss. 

“You still can,” you said. 

“Naw, we gotta do better about eating. I worry about you,” he said. The fork scraped against the bottom of the plate as he grabbed the last bite. He brought it to your lips and you opened your mouth. Your tongue dashed out to lick up every drop of sauce. Out the corner of your eye, you saw Stunna’s eyes zero in on your mouth. A quiet sigh escaped him. 

You looked down and could see the imprint of his dick straining against his zipper. If only your hands were free, you could help him out with that. 

You swallowed your food and nodded. “I don’t mean to make you worry,” you said. 

“But I do when you don’t eat or take care of yourself. I need you here with me,” he said.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you said.

“You gotta eat consistently,” he said. He shook his head. He placed the fork back on the plate and faced you. He wrapped his hands around your waist, linking his fingers together. 

You didn’t know how he did it. How he made you feel so small and dainty in his arms. You were a big girl, proud of it. You had your issues, but you ain’t get this tummy for no reason. You liked to eat and enjoyed food. It just wasn’t a priority to you. 

He leaned in and kissed you properly. His big lips covered yours and kissed you slowly, methodically. He treasured you with sucking your bottom lip and tongue delving inside, tangling with yours.

Each kiss turned you on more and more. You would never look at ravioli the same. Every time you’d run across it now, you’d think of this. Of the burning neediness in your veins. 

As he kissed you, he untangled his fingers and drew his right hand across your belly. “You nice and full?” He asked.

You nodded. Breathed him in. “Yes, Daddy,” you said. His fingers moved lower, in between your legs, and lightly drew his fingers around your clit.

You gasped against his lips. A few more swipes of that and you’d cum on the spot. You moved your hips, trying to get him to keep playing with your clit. To tell him without words that you were close. 

He licked his thumb and returned it to your clit, drawing tight little circles that made your mouth drop open on a strangled moan. He kissed along the length of your neck, swirling his tongue every so often. It tickled, but you were far too focused on what his hand was doing. You hissed as your pussy throbbed, so close. So close. Almost. Your body tensed, ready for it, ready for the pleasure.

Stunna moved his hand. “No!” You cried out. Your pussy ached and you panted, brain not comprehending that you weren’t about to cum. 

“It’s cute that yo ass think I was gon’ let you cum,” he said. He continued to kiss along your neck. You felt your orgasm retreating, backing away from the edge. You sighed and dropped your head back. 

“I’m sorry!” You said. 

“Mhm, I know you are,” he said. He continued about his business, kissing and licking against your skin. There was nothing you could do. Nothing you could say. He would not listen to your apologies. He was only about action. 

You’d have to set alarms or some shit. As much as you loved the way he played with your body, you loved it more when you could touch him back. You wanted to run your hands across his scalp. You wanted to twist your fingers between his. Or unzip his pants and wrap your lips around his dick. 

You couldn’t do any of that with your hands behind you. He knew it too. He knew how much you loved giving him pleasure. 

He licked his fingers and then tugged on the chain of the nipple clamps. You hissed at the bite. The ache had retreated to the back of your mind until he yanked like that. “Still good?” He asked.

“Yes, Daddy,” you said. 

“That’s my good girl,” he said. He kissed your cheek and then helped you stand. “Go wait for me in the living room.” 

You walked to the living room and then knelt on the paisley carpet. It was soft beneath your knees. You heard Stunna as he moved around the kitchen, washing the plate and fork. He moved towards the bedroom, you think, until he emerged in his soft gray briefs. 

Your mouth watered taking in his body. He worked hard on it, ensuring that he looked good and felt good. Narrow hips. But a round ass that you loved to grab. He had legs for days with his tall ass. He towered over you like a skyscraper from this vantage point. 

He petted your head while he walked around you carrying the box from the table. He sat down on the couch and widened his stance. He took his time turning on the TV, flipping through channels. You bit your lip as you watched him. 

This was so damn unfair. This punishment was worse than watching him get himself off without you. You had to listen to him groan and grunt and close his eyes while he painted his cum on your body like a canvas. 

He found a sports program, getting invested in the game while he rubbed the back of your neck. You didn’t know who was playing or what the fuck the announcer was saying. Your eyes were glued to his dick. 

You rubbed your cheek against his knee, light hair there tickling your face. He didn’t stop you from moving closer, settling against his leg more fully. He turned his attention to you with a little smile. You saw a hint of his grill. You were so fucking wet. You needed him to make his point so that you could cum. 

“This wouldn’t entirely be part of your punishment, but you are too damn cute sitting there,” he said. “You gon’ look cuter with my dick in your mouth.”

“Please,” you whispered. 

He licked his lips as he took in your prone form. His eyes dropped down, down, down as if he could see straight to your pussy. He grabbed his briefs and lowered it enough to free his dick.

You smiled. He was hard as a brick. Thick head leaking precum already. He stroked himself a few times and groaned softly. “Come here and please Daddy,” he said.

You moved between his legs, leaning up onto the couch. He guided his dick into your mouth and groaned at the contact. You sucked him down as far as you could, moaning a bit at the taste of him. That salty and spicy mix of his scent. The feel of the tip of his dick against your tongue. 

You looked up at him and he finally grinned. “Don’t look at me like that girl, gon’ make me nut early,” he said. 

You continued to look at him, moving your head up and down. You drooled on him, getting his dick wetter and wetter. Your slurps began to compete with the sound of the game. You sloppily sucked him down, licking underneath the head, and then swallowing him down.

“Fuck, look at you being so good for me,” he said.

You moaned. You kept bobbing your head, wanting to fit all of him inside. You hadn’t managed to do so thus far in your relationship but practice made perfect. Your eyes flicked from his veiny dick to his eyes as he watched you please him.

You watched for any variation on his face. Any hint that he was close to busting. He licked his lips when you took him deeper. He hissed when you played with the tip with your tongue. The chain that dangled between your titties cold against your chest, blasting you with awareness every time it slapped your skin. 

He groaned, cursing under his breath. He moved his hips, fucking into your mouth. You moved closer. His dick poked the inside of your mouth, your cheeks, and threatened to make you gag. 

“Fuck, baby. Needed this. Needed you,” he moaned. 

You watched the muscles in his chest and arms contract. Watched his stomach rise and fall in quick bursts. He grabbed your neck and squeezed. You groaned. You licked his dick like a lollipop before suckling him back in. 

He jerked and then laughed. “Fuck, I’m finna bust,” he groaned. A second later, his dick pulsed as jets of cum filled your mouth. You swallowed him down with a moan. Some escaped your mouth. He gathered it up with his thumb and pressed it into your mouth. You suckled his thumb too as if you were still sucking his dick. 

“So fucking sexy,” he said. 

He kissed you. Big, wet, sloppy kisses. He bit your bottom lip and you groaned. “Please, let me cum,” you begged. 

“Not done with your punishment yet,” he said. 

You whined. “Please! I need you inside me, Daddy,” you said. 

He nuzzled your nose and placed tiny kisses all over your face. You sighed with a small hum. Why was he so damn cute? And hot? And just gorgeous all around? Sometimes it felt like you were so full of love, you could survive off of it like sweet nectar. You didn’t want for anything as long as love filled you and surrounded you. 

“I can be nicer when you start being nicer to yourself,” he said. 

“I will! I promise!” 

“I know you will, baby,” he said. He told you to take deep breaths while he took the nipple clamps off. You were prepared for it, but it still hurt like a motherfucker. You hissed as he released each one. He discarded the clamps onto the coffee table, ready to be cleaned later. 

He helped you stand and then sit in his lap, facing him. His dick rubbed against your folds and you groaned. You straddled him, putting your titties directly in his face. 

He leaned down and began to lick away the sting from the clamps. “Oh fuck!” You moaned. 

Waves and waves of pleasure suffused you. Your whole body shivered from the delicious, torturous swipes of his tongue on your aching nipples. He moved back and forth, getting both nice and wet. The sting from the clamps began to dissipate. But the roaring fire deep in your belly only got worse and worse.

He tugged and pulled on your nipples, hands gripping onto your ass and squeezing. Was it possible to die from too much pleasure? You felt like you were going to pass out if he kept this up. 

You were making desperate, wild sounds as he took his pleasure from your body. His hands moved up and down your back, wiping away goosebumps. He kneaded your skin all over. He touched as much of your body as he could. 

“How you feelin’ baby?” He asked.

“Feel, ah, so good,” you whispered.

“How’s your arms?” He asked.

“Good, they don’t hurt,” you said. There was enough slack between them that your arms didn’t feel like they were about to fall off. Stunna smirked against your skin. 

He stood with you in his arms. You yelped. “I got you, I got you,” he said into your chest. He helped you onto the couch, onto your knees. You couldn’t hold yourself up, so your face was mushed against the couch cushion opposite where he sat.

You heard him rummaging around the box until he made a satisfied sound. There was a soft click and then he pushed the vibrator against your clit. You cried out, ass lifting higher as if you could escape him, as he pushed the vibrator closer. 

“Oh fuck, fuck, fuck,” you cried. Your legs shook. He placed one hand on your back and pushed you down, pushed you to stay still and accept what he was doing to you.

“Yo ass gon’ eat from now on, right?” He asked.

“Yes! Yes! I promise!” He pressed the vibrator into your clit and you were shaking in earnest now. You were..so…close…

He moved it away and you screamed out. Tears gathered in your eyes. Your lower belly hurt at this point. You couldn’t take all this damn edging. 

Stunna leaned down and pushed his tongue into your entrance. “Oh SHIT!” You moaned. Stunna slapped your ass, moaned, and then moved his tongue to your clit. He flicked it and you began to drool on the couch. 

The sounds you were making were low, soft, and like you were in pain. Shit, you were! You were out of your mind. Desperate, needy. You’d sell your left titty if he’d let you cum at this point. However, you were too far gone to plead now. 

Tears escaped your eyes and you sniffled. You were leaking everywhere. From your eyes, nose, mouth, and pussy. 

“Making such a mess, baby. Tasting so fuckin’ good. Hmmmm,” he said and rolled his whole head with how he ate you out. 

Your whines increased in a crescendo, reaching higher and higher. Fuck, you were about to cum. You didn’t have enough air in your lungs to tell him. To warn him. 

You should’ve known. He stopped eating you out and you whimpered. “Please,” you breathed. 

Stunna chuckled. He rubbed your body and your body relaxed in increments. You weren’t going to survive. He was going to have to make funeral arrangements for you. Your body shivered painfully and you moaned while he massaged your body. 

“Now what did we learn today?” He asked.

“Eat m-m-more,” you said, your teeth chattering. 

“That’s my baby,” he said.

He got behind you, pulling your hips back against him. His dick brushed against your pussy and you whimpered. He moved his hips, trying to line himself up. It didn’t quite do so, so he moved his hand to guide himself inside you.

Once the tip pushed into you, he shoved inside and you cried out. “Shit, Daddy!” You screamed.

He slapped your ass. “Bounce that shit back,” he said.

You moved, bouncing back on his dick. Your ass jiggled every time you made contact with his thighs. 

“That’s it. Work that sexy ass on this dick. You took your punishment so well. I’m so proud of you,” he said. 

He moved his thumb to your clit and soaked his finger. He then pushed it into your ass and your hips jerked, dropping forward as any remaining strength left you. His thumb wiggled into your ass and you cried, fat drops of tears streaming down your cheeks. 

He took over slamming and pounding into you. “Oh fuck, Daddy! Daddy!” 

“Go on and scream my name, baby,” he said. “You feel so damn good squeezing Daddy’s dick. You missed me, huh?” He asked.

“Yes, Daddy. Fuck,” you moaned. 

“You missed me, baby?” He asked. His voice was soft and sweet but his strokes were deep and punishing. The dichotomy made your pussy flutter. He groaned, feeling it. 

“I missed you, Daddy. I missed this dick,” you moaned. 

He moaned and seemed to get even deeper. As if he had been giving you shallow strokes before. Fuck, he was so big. Stretching you out and giving you exactly what you had been craving. You were going to be sore as hell after this. 

You squeezed him more. It felt like he was truly in your guts. As if you could feel him moving in your tummy. His thick head rubbed your inner walls and your eyes crossed. More drool escaped you.

“Daddy, let me cum. Let me cum,” you begged.

“You can cum baby, you deserved it,” he said. 

You screamed as your body released on his command. Your body spasmed and flopped on his pounding dick as an intense, earth-shattering, soul-cleansing, full body meltdown erupted inside of you. This orgasm rivaled any other he ever gave you. 

You may have passed out. You may have died a little. You may have entered the fifth dimension somewhere. But a moment later, he was joining you. His loud grunts infiltrated your foggy thoughts as he climaxed, stuffing you full of his cum. 

He pushed into you and stayed there, plugging it inside you. You twitched and jerked on his dick and he finished with a deep, rumbling moan in his throat.

“Love you so fuckin’ much,” he said.

“Love you so fuckin’ much,” you said. 

He slowly left you and you groaned. Already your pussy ached. He removed the handcuffs from your wrists and rubbed them. His fingers felt heavenly as he moved to rub your shoulders as well. 

He kissed your cheek. “Catch your breath, baby,” he said. 

“Yes, Daddy,” you said. You’d agree to anything right now. Absolutely anything. 

The next thing you knew, you were being lifted in his arms. You made a soft, questioning sound as he kissed your cheek. He carried you bridal style towards the bathroom.

It smelled like sweet vanilla and he lowered you into the tub. The hot water made you sigh with pleasure. He climbed in behind you and pulled you against his chest. He put your bonnet on first followed by your shower cap, carefully tucking your hair inside without getting it wet.

“Thank you, Daddy,” you murmured. You were so sleepy. Between the thorough fucking and the bath, you would likely sleep through the night and well into the morning. 

He whispered softly to you as you bathed together, washing away all the nasty shit he did to you. You talked more about his day, your plans for tomorrow, and any other random things on your mind. He tickled you in between kisses to your neck and you giggled as you wiggled your ass against his dick.

He rolled your ear between his teeth and warned you to quit while you were ahead. Afterwards, you dried each other off. You lotioned each other up with your respective lotions. You stole kisses. You breathed each other in. 

Then, he carried you to the bedroom because you said your legs felt like noodles. He chuckled and scooped you up, laying you under the blankets and tucking you in. He kissed your forehead before joining you in bed. 

He scooted closer, his chest warming your back. His hand caressed your belly. He placed a final kiss on your neck and you fell asleep feeling like you were on top of the world and never wanted to come back down.

THE END!

WHEW! Need more? The Secret Big Stunna Files

[miyuhpapayuh]

Let's back into the messy boots story chile 🙃

Don’t get comfortable In love. People fall out. Sometimes People lie. With malice or none. Stay on your toes anyway. Speak your mind. Take nothing at face value. Ever. Even if it’s right in your face. Always read the fine print. Because People lie. And they’re good at it. So Don’t get comfortable.

Fine Print [Yahya Abdul-Mateen II x Black Plus Size OC]

Short Story Genre: Romance-Drama Warnings: 18+, Explicit Language, Sexual Content image|x|

Shea Buttah Bakery Masterlist

Cleaning day used to come once a week for me, usually on Sundays, but now it was just about every day. Especially with an eleven month old one-woman wrecking crew in the house. Anything there was to be grabbed and pulled down, it was pulled. Anything there was to be picked up and tossed around, it was tossed. Even with all of the babyproofing we had done, she still found some way to make a mess. It was impressive to say the least. She was also crawling all over the place and pulling herself up onto everything within her short reach. So I had to make sure to keep every surface properly sanitized for her busy little body. I think it was safe to say that my baby girl would be walking any day now. Maybe even before her first birthday. I couldn’t wait. My excitement to see those chubby little legs carry her around was immeasurable. 

I had just put my Raya down for a nap and I was heading to the next task: straightening up my and the hubby’s bedroom. Today was my weekly deep cleaning day. So far, I’d knocked out the foyer, kitchen, family room, and nursery. The bathrooms were the only other areas remaining on my list. I’d have to get to the rest of the house another time. I wasn’t even done with today’s batch and I was already beat. Thankfully, Isaiah was in the kitchen making us a late lunch. I just hoped he wasn’t erasing all of my hard work. 

“Big Stunna!” I heard him call from up front. Which only meant one thing; his best friend, Yahya, was on the phone. “Where you at now, boy?”

I laughed to myself, pulling the fitted sheet from one corner of the bed, so grateful that Raya wasn’t a light sleeper. Otherwise, I would’ve been all over his head. I was walking around to the last stubborn pocket when he stepped into the room with me. 

“Hey, babe. Yah’s off tour,” he announced, wearing a huge smile and holding his phone toward me. I shared in his joy. It had been a long two months since we’d seen him, and I knew he was on the way. “He wanted to holla at you real quick.”

I excitedly took the phone from his hand, so ready to speak. “Superstar!”

“Aye, baby.” The drum of his heavy, silky smooth voice instantly warmed every inch of my skin, testing my strength. I kept my composure, but my heart definitely fluttered. In that moment, I had never been so thankful for my inability to visibly blush. 

Keep reading

[itsbackwoodsbby]

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.

“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.

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.

[henneseyhoe]

“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

[berberriescorner]

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

[henneseyhoe]

Yall know I love me a good new read 😭🩷

18 Years: A Yahya Abdul-Mateen II Story

@megamindsecretlair @ghostfacekill-monger @henneseyhoe @bakarilennox @sheabuttahwrites @wawakanda-btch @uzumaki-rebellion @starcrossedxwriter @hearteyes-for-killmonger @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @cecereads209 @soufcakmistress @essaysbyciara @thegifstories @consent-is-king @nayaxwrites @miyuhpapayuh @l-auteuse @chaneajoyyy

You all don't know me, but I am familiar with your writings and everything that you do for the Black Girl Fanfiction community on here. I've been reading your works for some time now, and in 2024, I told myself I would try new things. I used to be a writer when I was growing up. I don't know why I am inspired to get into this now.

This is literally a first draft. I started it while I was at work today and finished it tonight. It has the makings of a series. I definitely envision at least two more, much larger parts.

This story is NSFW and Minors shouldn't read. It will definitely be smuttier.

work count: 2,235

I would really appreciate some feedback. Thank you in advance.

Characters:

Naomi (37) Yahya (38)

Kae: Your Face Here (36)

PART ONE

PRESENT DAY

"I didn't expect this to happen, but honestly, I shouldn't be surprised. There have been a few near-misses, but for the most part, I've been lucky that there hasn't been any cross-over. Until tonight." I know I sound dismissive and unaffected. My Aquarius sun loves to show her unevolved self at the worst times. 

The windows are open, along with the French doors that lead to the back deck of my house. It is one of those late-spring evenings that turns into rain. I had anticipated rain. I can smell it on the breeze that blows through the doors.

A montage flashes through my mind. Naomi and I, tangled in Egyptian cotton, candlelight illuminating our bodies, while the rain pours outside my open windows. My fingertips wrinkled from Naomi's essence.Her honey, still in the corners of my mouth. She runs her tongue along my neck, then coos in my ear,  wrapping her arms around me to fondle my breasts.

"So how do you do this? Do you have me and her on a schedule? When I clock out and leave town, does she clock in?! I go into your bedroom to put my luggage down, her overnight bag is unzipped and something lacy is hanging out, Kae what the fuck! Did you even have time to change the sheets?"

The sound of his anger brings me back to the present. He isn’t angry, he’s hurt. He feels unchosen. Up until this point, they knew of each other in theory, but they had never been together. They were both in my home at this very moment. Both of my lovers stand on opposite sides of the dining room, while the long oval table is cluttered with the remains of the successful dinner that I had my board of directors and staff over for. Naomi was at this dinner, but not because I was introducing her as my lover, but because she is a lawyer that we have been cultivating for the board. Naomi and I, we have an expiration date. She has a husband and we have an...arrangement. The time I spend with her isn't as straightforward as what I do with Yahya. I see Naomi more frequently, but the intimacy I share with Yahya, I can never have with Naomi. Yahya gives me his time. Her husband comes first. She could never openly claim me. I'm not sure if I would even want her to.

"Yah, you weren't supposed to be here. You're supposed to be on a flight to L.A. You know what this is. You know what it has been. I don't lie to you. I don't lie to either one of you. I never have." I can feel myself getting flustered. Sensing my unease, Naomi takes a step further into the room, closer to the table. She looks at Yahya expectantly. I watch him run his eyes over her face, lingering at her mouth. I wonder what he's thinking. I know what he's thinking. Naomi is beautiful, with a perfect pouty set of lips and wide eyes. She's taller than me, at 5'9, she would look good in heels next to Yahya.

"Okay. Let's take it down a notch or two. Yahya, it is nice to meet you. I was hoping it would be under better circumstances. My name is Naomi." Naomi extends her hand across the table to shake Yahya's hand. He stares at her, then looks back at me. He scoffs, and walks over to my bar and pours a strong measure of my expensive cognac. This man is too fine to be rude and Naomi is not the kind of woman that is used to being ignored. This could end badly.

Both of my lovers are beautiful, but only one will force me to choose between them. One of my lovers is reticent . The other won't rest until I declare who wins my heart. I was never supposed to be a battleground for this. I just don't ever know what I want sometimes.

2006

When Yahya and I met, I was 18 years old, spending spring break 2006 building houses in New Orleans after Hurricane Katrina. Yah was turning 20 that summer, and had come home to New Orleans to help rebuild. He was an architecture student, so he felt he could be useful, and was doing an internship with Habitat for Humanity. I remember laying eyes on him and thinking he was the finest man I had ever seen. He was tall as hell, brown skinned, with a deep voice that I felt would make a very lucky woman's bones quake. I was assigned to the neighborhood he was overseeing for demolition. I decided then that wherever he was, I needed to be someone else.

I was staying with Lynna and Cassie Beaudremont, sisters that I had been friends with for some time. I met Lynna when I was 15, visiting family in Louisiana. She was two years older than me and she made me feel seen. Lynna had a secret too, in that she preferred women to men. In fact, she wasn't interested in men at all. I didn't know what I wanted. I was 15 and boy-crazy in the way that teenage girls that are too smart for their own good are boy-crazy with nothing to do. I just wanted my life to begin now, but no clue what that meant. I spent all my free time with my nose in fiction too grown for me. My inner pitcher was full of Morrison, Baldwin, and Angelou. Words that matched feelings I hadn't experienced yet. I was interested in women too, but I wouldn't explore that for a while, so that summer I plied Lynna with stolen liquor, holding my breath while I listened to her describe what it felt like to kiss a girl. By this point, I had let an older boy I dated finger me in his car, but I couldn't understand why it made me feel empty.

Standing outside, shielding our eyes from the sun, Lynna and I gave each other big eyes when Yahya walked up to get our demolition team organized. He gave a kind of unifying speech that was supposed to galvanize us to do our best work. All I could think about was how his arms looked in his Habitat for Humanity polo. He was so tall, and his smile was blinding. I wanted to smell him when he was sweaty. He was fine in an intangible way, and was so fucking friendly, helpful, and kind that you couldn't help but like him.

I would see him again later that summer, when I came through New Orleans on a road trip that turned into a proper dalliance. That summer, I met his mom and his sisters. We became close, me, him, and his family. Especially when it was found out that his mom and Lynna's mom were old friends from high school, who had lost touch when Yahya's family moved to Oakland. That summer, Yahya and I flirted at the epic barbecues that the Beaudremont's would throw, that would shut down the whole ward. We got caught in the rain. I would sneak out and we would drive to that seemingly unnamed honkytonk place and eat mountains of catfish and drink beer. That summer he drove an old, beat up pickup truck and I remember the way he would throw his arm around the back of the seat when he wasn't shifting gears, and tickle my shoulder. We had been friendly in April, but he gave me distance when he learned I was still in high school. Despite that initial yet completely understandable awkwardness, Yahya’s friendliness grew and before the summer was over, his arm was draped around me instead of the seat. 

The first time he kissed me, we were sitting at an intersection at night, waiting for the streetcar to pass. He leaned over, put his arm around me and his other hand on my thigh and kissed me. It felt like forever and not long enough. His lips covered mine, I swear I tasted him before he touched me. I let out a moan when our lips touched and he took advantage, immediately giving me tongue that had me wanting to fuck him in the truck, the way I did my high school boyfriend, in the abandoned train tunnel not far from my grandma’s house. He sucked on my bottom lip while running his fingers up my neck, with the lightest touch. I felt my entire core clench. The car behind us beeped the horn and flashed the headlights.We jumped apart, sharing a laugh. The heat in my cheeks burned and Yahya hooked his left hand under my knee and pulled me across the seat, closer to him. I cozied up,  put my head on his chest, and listened to his heart race as fast as mine was. 

PRESENT DAY

I glance over at Naomi as she drops her hand to the tabletop. Yahya turns around, glass in hand and looks at us both. I feel hot, trapped in my own damn house. This is messy. This might be the second messiest thing I allowed my pussy to get me into. I am a fool for love, don’t get me wrong, but this is not my best work. I sigh deeply, grab the nearest serving platter and walk into the kitchen. Romantic confrontation be damned, I was not going to end the night dumped twice with a dirty kitchen. I could load the dishwasher while Yahya breaks up with me. I might have to schedule a Taskrabbit tomorrow to clean the rest but we could cross that bridge tomorrow. 

To my surprise, both Naomi and Yahya follow me into the kitchen with dishes in their hands. We enter into a weird domestic truce, each of us working in tandem to get my kitchen and dining room back to rights. They both stack dishes on the counter, which I scrape and load into the dishwasher. Naomi straightens the dining room, wiping the table, and using the Dyson on the floor, then following it with the Swiffer Wetjet. Yahya washes my pots and pans, and puts away the unused serving platters that he had used his delicious height to take down this morning before he left for the gym. After a while, Naomi comes back into the kitchen and pulls a bottle of pinot grigio out of my wine fridge and Yahya hands her two glasses from the cabinet above my farmhouse sink. Tucking the glasses between her fingers, she grabs the bottle with her left hand, and walks back through the dining room, toward my family room. Both Yahya and I follow her, I grab the mechanical wine opener as we pass the bar, and Yahya grabs his drink and the bottle of cognac. We settle down, Naomi and I sit on the couch, wise enough to put space between us. Yahya sits in the recliner and swivels to face us, his long legs manspread.

“What happened?” My voice wavers. I feel like I’m watching this happen from outside of myself. 

“The director and both assistant directors have COVID. Production has been delayed another three weeks. I don’t have to be in L.A. for another week. I called you and texted you multiple times. I know Cassie did too, because I called her when you didn’t answer.”

“I don’t know where my phone is.” Both Naomi and Yahya shake their heads, sharing a glance and wry smiles. I lose my phones multiple times a day, every day. Cassie is my assistant, and a big part of her day is just keeping up with my phones. 

“It didn’t occur to me that you would be entertaining…a guest. I was just here. I didn’t expect such a quick turn around in your bed Kae.”  Naomi laughs again and shakes her head. I feel her annoyance and I almost reach out to touch her, but when I look up, Yahya is staring right at me, daring me to show her affection in front of him. Instead, I grab the bottle of wine and slide the wine opener over the top. I press the button on the side of the electric wine open and the corkscrew pushes into the cork, whirling until I feel a slight pull. The cork is out of the bottle. I pour Naomi’s glass first, then my own. I take a deep sip and look across the room toward the built-in bookshelf on my wall. The wooden box on the middle shelf is my weed box and I mentally roll the joint that would make this entire episode bearable. Yahya has skipped the passive and has decided to lead with the aggressive. 

“Is she why you don’t want to fuck me?” Naomi starts. She shifts, suddenly. 

“Kae, I am going to head out. I think you and him have a lot you should discuss, without me.”

“No Naomi, I think you should stay so you both can tell me what it is you do for each other that would make Kae not bounce on the dick she’s been waiting 18 years to get?” Yahya's voice rumbles. Outside, thunder booms. The rain starts, the force of the drops, a growing sound. In this moment, I’ve never wanted him more. 

[ororowrites]

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!

taglist: @blackburnbook @emjayewrites @just-peachee @chaneajoyyy​

[ingeniousmindoftune]

Started- January 1,2022

Last Updated- December 3, 2022

✦ Oscar Diaz 

✦ If I wanted *Part one

✦ Welcome To Freeridge • part one

❃ Julio Macias

✦ Girl In The Brown Dress •part one•

You all know him as Rio but I know him from Graceland. He was bae then and he’s bae now.

✦ RIO X READER

*TOO MUCH TO DRINK -PART ONE 

*TOO MUCH TO DRINK- PART TWO {You’re Mine}

RIO X READER

✦- HEY MAMA - PART ONE

✦-The Sextape- Part One. The Sextape, Part Two. (Mentions #EzReyes) The Sextape, Part Three. The Sextape, Part Four. , The Sextape- Part Five. part five ^p2 >>>>>>>>>> Masterlist

✦ HIS PROMISE - PART ONE.

✦ The Complications (sequel to The Sextape) >> Masterlist

✦ OTHERS ✦

✦ Method Man

✦ Attorney-Clint Privilege \| part one

✦ The friends father | part one

✦ FLORIAN MUNTEANU

✦ Fighting Temptation 1,

✦ JOHNNY TUTURRO.

✦ The Hidden Truth.

✦ Tom Hardy

✦ Misses CEO.

✦ CoCo Cruz

✦ You, Me, & Whiskey - Part one

✦ Evan Buckley

✦ Fire and Rescue |

✦ Fire and Rescue 2 |

✦ Fire and Rescue 3|

✦ Fire and Rescue 4|

✦ Fire and Rescue 5|

✦ Roman Reigns.

✦ Cozy Nights.

✦ Back To Health.

✦ Shhh…

✦ Charlie Hunnam

✦ Revise - Prologue

✦ YAHYA ABDUL MANTEEN II

✦ CHRISTMAS GETAWAY. Part one.

✦ Kevin Atwater

✦ Wedding Crasher - part one.

✦ Wedding Crasher- part two.

✦ Lewis Tan

✦ Fuck, Marry, Kill * part one

✦ Jason Momoa

As Aquaman

✦ Cursed Beauty * Part one.

As original character.

✦ Never Trust Men on the Water 💧 * prologue , chapter one ,

✦ Mason Gooding

✦ New Girl,1

✦ Rome Flynn

✦ Infinite Stars. |1|

✦ Henry Cavill

✦ Daddy Lessons - (1)

✦ Miguel Galindo X Ez Reyes

✦ Betrothed- (1)

ASK FOR REQUEST- OPEN!

Updates vary! I write on wattpad. Almost every day. But I will be adding more stories here with different men! From all sorts of movies, tv shows, singers, rappers, all types!

TAG LIST:

To be added, comment below and reblog this. Thank you! Support please.

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Donations are greatly welcomed. Give if you can, even if you can’t, I won’t be mad.

WATTPAD.

I’ve deleted a lot of old books on there plus once my most popular book reached 11k in votes, wattpad flagged it I guess but please check out my page. More books are coming on there as well.

[berberriescorner]

So you're just out here dropping masterpiece after masterpiece, huh?! Ma'am. Ma'am!

I WAS NOT READY FOR THIS! The whole series is amazing, but this part here?! Yeah, it did me in.

Buckle up for this commentary, cause I got some ish to say.

“I got no reason to lie, mama. Like you said, you already here.” He wet his bottom lip before moving his eyes down my body once more. I shuddered.

He knows good and damn well what he's doing with that bottom lip! How sis is keeping her panties on at this point is beyond meee! Cause Lord knows my flesh would’ve been weak, chile.

“I’m just saying. You know women ain’t safe out here. Especially Black women.”

As if I couldn't love this damn man anymore. He out here looking out for all the beautiful black queens. Just take my panties, sir! HERE!

“You on my side, though,” he teased, swaggering toward me in his crisp white tee and gray joggers.

GRAY JOGGERS?! Oh, baby boy was prepared! This would've been my first indication that he was about to be on demon time😈. F your side, papa. The only place you should be trying to be is on top of me. HELLO!

I giggled as he aimed his face toward the ceiling to release the smoke, promptly sucking it back into his mouth before it could get away. “I think you know why.” He brought his eyes back down to mine, smiling while smoke rolled from his lips and nose.

The picture this painted in my mind. LAWD! It's doing thangs to me. I'm not a smoker myself, but it's just something about a fine-ass man doing this. It gives a thirsty bish like me the chills 😂.

Either that or my fascination with this man had me highly delusional. Probably. “Mmmm…” Fuck it. Might as well since I was taking a walk on the wild side for the night. Plus, I’d always wanted to try it at least once. Just to see what all the fuss was about.

This sound like some shit my libra ass would do. If bae doing it-might as well give it a try 😂.

He just sat up and reached for me, signaling me over with his fingers. “C’mere.”

You ain't gotta tell me twice! Here I come, Daddy. The chemistry in this series is on a thousand.

Ooop! So you just gon' snatch my ass right on up! This mannn!

“Mmmm,” he groaned, biting his lip with those gold fangs on full display. 

Sir! Do you want me to hit the blunt or hop on top of you? You keep groaning like that. We gon' have to get it on and popping right neooow. Got the kitty purring out of control 🙄.

“Go slow.”

This ish sexy. I can't explain it.

I took another successful pull, reveling in all of this delectable sin, and he carefully slid his hands around to my ass.

At this damn point, I would’ve caved. I just know my knees would’ve buckled lmao!

“How you feelin’?”

Horny AF, duh! Don't play foolish with me!

With parted lips, I looked toward his hand as I felt it slide into my pants. He started to rub my pussy over my panties and they soaked through on contact, trapping my next breath in my throat. 

I both love and hate you for this. I am a puddle, sis 😩. Absolute perfection.

“Say. How you like it, mama?” He easily caught the rhythm of my subtle grind. “You like slow and steady?” 

The fact that he thinks she could even find words right now. Sir, just wreck my walls already.

“Or you like that hood shit?” He brought his hand down from the window and fixed his arm across my chest, guiding me back into him while he clung to my breast. “Hm?”

BOFFUM', Zaddy! Boffum'. I'll take both for $200, Alex!

“Why you bein’ so quiet?” he finally asked, lips brushing sweetly against my ear. Then he laid a soft kiss just underneath it. “You said you came to fuck. Don’t get all shy on me now.” 

She held out a whole hell of a lot longer then I would have. I’m proud of sis lmao! I'm not even going to tell you how many times I read this 😂. This was so damn good, boo 😍!

in the Morning

story masterlist Shea Buttah Bakery Masterlist

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sounds// Peabo Bryson - Feel The Fire, Isley Brothers - Spend the Night (Ce Soir), The O'Jays - Forever Mine

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IV.

“Oh, shit. What’s up?” He smiled back and it was even more killer in person. Especially with the surprise of gleaming gold fangs and the matching slugs I could see peeking from behind his bottom lip. I had to remind myself to breathe. “You came.”

“I told you I was on the way.”

“Nah, I thought you was fucking with me.” Laughter took over the conversation as he opened the door a bit wider, stepping aside. “Come on in.”

Hell, I could barely believe I’d shown up myself. I had never really been shy, but he’d brought a boldness out of me that even I hadn’t seen.

When I passed him, I noticed that he was still significantly taller than me in four inch heels. Damn. Not like I wasn't overdue for a climbing lesson anyway. The scent of his cologne was also quite alluring. The woody, smoky fragrance pervaded my senses, warming all the spots that shot had missed. Of course he would smell just as good as he looked. He may not have believed I would be there tonight, but he had damn sure been prepared. 

“I can take your jacket.” 

“Oh, sure.” I went to slip it from my shoulders, but he circled behind me and took the collar into his hands. 

“Here, I got you.” 

Taken aback by his unexpected chivalry, I was stuck watching him walk back to the closet to carefully put it away. 

“This is dope. The gold on here go crazy.”

“Right? I thought the same thing. Had to have it.”

“Good choice.” He grinned as he strolled back over to me. “I like your whole get-up, though. You look good, girl.” The intensity he radiated in person was unreal. His blinding smile. Those piercing brown eyes. The once-over he gave me felt like he was sexing me up already. 

Of course, I was a flustered mess. “Thank you.”

“What’s in the bag?”

I held up my bottle for him to see. “Wine. Actually, could I put it in your fridge?”

“Yeah.” He reached for it, so I gave it to him. Then he nodded to the left. “This way.” 

We left the foyer and I followed him past a gorgeous living area, subtly admiring my surroundings. The height of the ceilings had caught my attention right away. All of it was stunning. Far from the bare walls, futon, and flat screens I had half expected. Off white walls and dark wood floors made up the most of it, but the decor was so sophisticated and refined. I’d already clocked a painting and coffee table that I wanted for myself. I could tell it had been carefully curated. I should've known he would give nothing less. We walked through an arched doorway into a kitchen that made me feel like cooking for some strange reason. Just like everything else I’d seen, it looked like something from a magazine. Shades of gray, black, white and green complemented each other well among all the satiny stainless steel. There were even fresh tulips sitting in the middle of the island. I was giving one of them a smell when he came over, leaning up against the marble counter with me. 

“I put it in the freezer for you.”

“Thank you.”

“No problem.” Having to look up was already doing something different for me, but the way he was smiling down at me made it so much worse. Prolonged eye contact was his thing, I’d already gathered. It felt like he was staring into my soul. Whew! “I’m glad you came.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm. Not every day something this fine just lands on your doorstep.”

My head dropped into a faint laugh. “Baby, you ain't gotta butter me up. I’m already here.”

“I ain't tryna do nothing of the sort. I meant what I said.”

“Ok. So, you just be up in here by yourself?”

“Most of the time, yeah.”

I smacked my lips, less than convinced. “Yeah, aight.”

“You a trip,” he chuckled.

“Nah, you the one.”

“How?”

“Nothing. Don’t worry ‘bout it,” I said, grinning as I waved him off. 

“I got no reason to lie, mama. Like you said, you already here.” He wet his bottom lip before moving his eyes down my body once more. I shuddered. “I really don’t be having company like that, though. I know it might not seem like it, but I’m usually a pretty private person. I don’t like too many people in my business.”

“So, why you breaking all your rules for me then?”

“I don’t know…” He leaned a little closer. “Just something about you.” 

I rolled my eyes through the inevitable smile that followed his and that sly admission. “You know what, I know I just gave it to you to put away, but could I pour myself a glass?”

“Oh, yeah. Fasho.” He walked back over to the freezer and pulled out my bottle. Then he went to a cabinet for a wine glass before taking an electric corkscrew from a drawer. Once the bottle was open, he stepped back, presenting it all to me with an outstretched hand. 

“Thank you.”

“No problem.”

I poured myself a big glass, just low enough to prevent any spills while I walked.

“You only brought one glass. You don't want any?” 

“Nah. I’m more of a Hennessy man, myself.”

“Aah, ok.”

“I can put it back for you, though.”

“I think I’ma just keep it.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, this is good enough.”

“Aight.” He reclaimed his position at the island. “So, um, I feel like you breaking some of your rules for me, too.” 

“…Maybe,” I said, after finishing a big sip. 

“How you get so brave?”

I frowned. “Why you saying that like you about to chop me up and plaster me into your walls?”

“Damn, girl.” I cracked at the sudden shock that appeared on his face and we laughed so hard. “I’m just saying. You know women ain’t safe out here. Especially Black women.”

“Yeah, my girl wanted me to stay home real bad. But I don't know. Sometimes you just gotta take a chance. Plus, you didn't give me serial killer vibes. Didn’t see a windowless van on the premises either, sooo…”

His smile was beaming as we shared another laugh. “You funny.”

I shrugged a shoulder, preparing for my next sip. “So I’ve been told.”

He waited for me to finish before he motioned his head toward where we had just come from. “Come on.” Then he turned to walk off, and, once again, I followed. 

“And, anyway, for all you know, I could be crazy.”

Without hesitation, he replied, “Oh, I can take you.”

I gasped in false disbelief. “Excuse you. I could have weapons of mass destruction.”

“What? Like a chainsaw?” 

He glanced back at me as we neared the stairs and I busted out laughing. “Now that wasn't even me. My girl put that one in my head.”

“What she think, I’m Leatherface?”

“Shit, you never know nowadays.”

“You ‘bout right. But you can let her know you in good hands.”

“I figured as much.”

He smiled, stopping at the stairs. “After you,” he said, holding his arm out for me to step ahead of him.  

After giving him my bottle, I grabbed the glass railing with my freed hand. I made my way up the curved staircase, swaying my little bit of booty in case he was watching, and losing count of how many steps I was taking. 

“You better catch me if I fall.”

“I got you.” I laughed to myself as we finally reached the top. I waited for him to take the lead again and he came around me, settling his hand on my waist. “This way, mama.”

A floral, citrusy scent met me as soon as I stepped into his bedroom. Probably from the candles lit in various spots all around it. They also provided the light, along with two lamps on the wall framing the head of his bed. “It smells so good in here.”

“I tried to hook it up for you a lil bit.”

“I like it.” The click of my heels on his gray hardwood floors was briefly muted as I strutted onto an oversized circular rug en route to his bed. The couch was nice and spacious, but the bed was much more inviting. The comforter looked cloudlike and the corner of the sheet that was exposed looked fresh. It was huge, too. Likely out of necessity. I sat on the edge and stared over at the window wall across from me as I took a feel. It was just as comfortable as I’d presumed, maybe even more. “Why you way over there? You got—what you called me?��‘something this fine’ all in your bed, and you just gon’ stand there?”

He smiled. “Yeah. That’s what I said.”

“Come here then.”

“You on my side, though,” he teased, swaggering toward me in his crisp white tee and gray joggers.

I kicked my shoes off before sliding myself to the opposite side. “Better?”

“Much.” He came over and sat against the fluted headboard as I sat just a couple feet away from him. At that point, I took my phone from my purse and killed the power. I was not about to let anybody spoil my night. “What kind of music you like?”

“I’m an R&B junkie.”

“Ok.” He picked up his phone, plugged up on the table beside him. “Let me guess. 90’s and early 2000’s, right?”

“Duh! I love my oldies, too, though.”

“Word?”

“Yes. I spent the first fourteen years of my life almost exclusively with my grandparents. They blessed me.”

“Ok. What you know about this then?” After a couple taps, ‘Spend The Night’ by The Isley Brothers began to play. 

“Boy, what? This my shit.” 

“…You grooving your ass off, this really your shit.”

I howled, because I hadn’t even realized. Maybe it was the near-emptiness of my glass that had my shoulders and waist moving without my knowledge. 

“Anyway. So, what’s your favorite genre?”

“My music taste kinda eclectic. I like a lil bit of everything.”

“Like what?”

“Funk. Bounce. Jazz.”

“Okayyy.”

“R&B,” he continued, making sure to look me in the eye for that one. “House.”

“Ooh, I love House.”

“Yeah. But that’s just a few.”

I nodded. “Ok, next question.”

“What’s up?”

“Why you sit my bottle so far awaaaay?” I whined, staring longingly toward his dresser as I went to leave the bed. He laughed. 

“My bad. I’ll get it for you.”

“I’m just messing with you. I got it.” I walked over to fill my glass again, bobbing my head to my jam. 

“You mind if I smoke?”

“This your place, baby. You can do whatever you want.”

“Yeah, but you my guest. And, if I’m a bad host, you might not wanna come back.”

I squinted up at him, twisting my lips to try and hide my smile, but it didn't work. The charm was just too potent. “It’s cool. Spark up.”

“Aight.” 

He leaned over and reached into his top drawer for this little box. I couldn't see inside it, but he pulled out a pre-rolled joint and I just assumed that there were more. This nigga was a stoner in the truest sense. 

The level of my glass was starting to fall again and the wine had to be going straight to my feet. Instead of returning to my seat, I opted for a cute little two-step and a couple of slow spins, quietly singing along with Mr. Biggs and Angela Winbush between sips. The song sounded better than it ever had. 

“I’m glad I chose this cut.” 

I opened my eyes to see that Yahya had changed his position, lying back on his elbows at the edge of the bed and facing me. It took all I had to keep it together. My face was on fire. “Why?”

He smacked his lips at me and took a long drag from the J. I giggled as he aimed his face toward the ceiling to release the smoke, promptly sucking it back into his mouth before it could get away. “I think you know why.” He brought his eyes back down to mine, smiling while smoke rolled from his lips and nose. 

I returned his smile. Of course I knew. “What that shit taste like?”

“You never smoked before?” he asked with a wrinkled brow.

“Nope. I told you I didn't smoke, remember?”

“Yeah, I know. But you never?”

I shook my head. “Not even once.”

“You wanna try it?”

I bit the inside of my lip, not really sure if I should. The scent of weed was something I usually just tolerated, but this didn’t smell too bad. Either that or my fascination with this man had me highly delusional. Probably. “Mmmm…” Fuck it. Might as well since I was taking a walk on the wild side for the night. Plus, I’d always wanted to try it at least once. Just to see what all the fuss was about. “Yeah.” I shrugged it off and left my glass on a nearby table, but then it hit me that I had been drinking. “Wait. Should I be doing this with alcohol?”

“It ain’t gon’ do nothing to you.”

“But am I really supposed to mix the two?”

He just sat up and reached for me, signaling me over with his fingers. “C’mere.”

I sighed, quelling most of my concerns and taking his hand. He didn’t let me make a single step, pulling me right into his hard chest. He hurried his arm around my waist as my screaming morphed into shared laughs. “Oh my god, don’t do that!” I looked down into his eyes, resting my arms on his shoulders to help get my bearings. The laughter soon faded. Smiles went next. 

“Mmmm,” he groaned, biting his lip with those gold fangs on full display. 

That same breathless feeling that had hit me at my computer, smacked the shit out of me again. Just a hundred times stronger. Seeing his brand of fine this close up was devastating. Everything that looked so damn good from afar held all of its integrity and then some. The beard, the lips, the skin, the teeth. Truly immaculate.

“Youuu… are dangerous.” I capped the sentiment with a giggle, but I was not joking. 

He frowned with a telling grin in the forefront. “What? I’m harmless.” The elevation in his tone further confirmed the lies.

I pushed myself back up to my feet, flustered as fuck and almost hating how he could make me this way so effortlessly. I really had no idea I was so foldable and, though the circumstances were lovely, I didn’t know how to feel about it.

“Fuck that.” 

He laughed and held the joint up to my lips. “Go slow.”

I looked at it and then back to him, still slightly unsure, but I went ahead. The regret was instant. I choked, coughing up what little smoke I had brought in. And, to make matters worse, he had the nerve to be laughing while I was fighting for my life. 

“Naaah, not like that.”

I shook my hanging head. “That’s ok. I don't want to anymore,” I said, fanning myself and trying to catch my breath.

“Come on. I got you.”

I smacked my lips, looking into his half-lidded eyes with my own, and caved without an ounce of pause. Shameful. “...Ok. But, if I don't get it this time, I’m done. And don't laugh.”

“Aight, aight. I won’t laugh.”

“You better not,” I teased, rolling my eyes. 

He brought that shit up to my lips again, but, this time, he rested his free hand on my hip. I didn't pay it much mind. I was more focused on preparing myself for this second pull that was probably about to kill me.

“Go slow.”

I followed his instructions and took a relaxed drag. But I forgot to stop, and this nigga just let me keep going. My eyes popped when I realized what I had done. I stood there, cheeks puffed to the brim, not knowing what the hell to do. Again, Yahya was cracking up. I, on the other hand, started to freak out, groaning frantically and tapping at his arm.

“Just open your mouth, girl.” 

I opened up and the smoke billowed out and began to float away. 

“Now catch it. Inhale.” 

I did what I was told once again and watched as some of it disappeared back into my mouth.

“Ok, hold it… now breathe.”

I let go and, surprisingly, all of it came out without me bringing a lung up with it. “I did it!” I beamed, celebrating my first successful puff of Mary.

“Started off a lil rocky, but you finished strong.” I laughed with him, feeling too triumphant to check him for rejoicing in my struggles. “You wanna hit it again?” he asked, after taking another puff. 

I nodded. I felt like I had it down, but I just wanted to make sure it wasn’t a fluke. If I could do it two times in a row, that meant I could really do it. Feeling myself, I even took it from his hand when he brought it over to me. 

“Oh, shit. Ok. You a pro now, huh?”

I was too tickled, but in the merriment I still noticed that he had led his newly unoccupied hand down to my other hip. He kneaded his fingers into me, getting a nice, thorough feel. Naturally, my mind began to wander, imagining all the filthy, disgusting things he could do to me with those huge hands. I looked down at him and he was already staring back. His face was the most relaxed it had been all night. He took his gaze down to where my thighs met and I would swear I heard my girl sigh. This man was so fucking sexy it was almost infuriating. I had to look away. I took another successful pull, reveling in all of this delectable sin, and he carefully slid his hands around to my ass. The pungent smell of weed had possessed the air, the taste of the flower and a little wine were sweet on my tongue, and the sensual poetry of love songs gave us all the right directions. I couldn’t remember the last time I had been this bad. 

“How you feelin’?”

I opened my eyes, tilted my head and brought my hand up to mimic a chef’s kiss.

“See? Stick with me, I can show you some thangs.” I tucked what was left of the J between his lips and he hit it one last time before sitting it over in the ashtray. Then he pulled me closer. 

I smiled and bit my lip, gently placing my hands to his chest. When I started to back away, he smiled up at me and loosened his grip, but I could tell he didn't really want to let me go. 

“Where you goin’?”

I simply shook my head as I left his grasp. I just wanted to play around with him, make him chase me a little bit. The O’Jays were singing ‘Forever Mine’ and, somehow, I could feel it in my body. Whatever Yahya had for me, I was readyyy! I turned away and clutched the bottom of my shirt with both hands, pulling it up over my head and dropping it to the floor. Not a second later, I could see his reflection in the window standing from the bed. Off came his shirt in one swift motion as he walked, then I felt him slide up behind me. The chase was over. 

With his hands at my sides, I swayed to the hypnotizing melodies, savoring how good his bare skin felt next to mine. “I love this song.” I spoke quietly, fully entranced. My hands found their way to his, and the difference in size fucked me up even more. I was leading them around to where I needed them, when he latched onto the softness of my belly and started to move toward the window. I shuffled the short distance with him until I was standing directly in front of it. He eased his hold on me and grabbed my hand, placing it onto the glass a little above my head. I looked out over his backyard, wondering if any of his neighbors could see us. Part of me hoped someone could as he played around with the waist of my jeans, touching my skin in light whispers. He crept over to the button, undoing it, what felt to be, intentionally slow. My zipper came down at the same chilling pace. With parted lips, I looked toward his hand as I felt it slide into my pants. He started to rub my pussy over my panties and they soaked through on contact, trapping my next breath in my throat. 

“Say. How you like it, mama?” He easily caught the rhythm of my subtle grind. “You like slow and steady?” 

I scratched the glass with his hand still on top of mine, feeling his dick right against my ass. Flames flickered in the near-darkness, but, clearly, we were the hottest in the room. He moved my panties to the side and slipped through the flood until my clit was pounding into the tips of his fingers. A shy moan had barely made it past my lips when he sank them deep. I whimpered loudly, gripping his arm and bending my other hand into a fist, buckling under the pressure.

“Or you like that hood shit?” He brought his hand down from the window and fixed his arm across my chest, guiding me back into him while he clung to my breast. “Hm?”

I didn't answer. I wasn’t even breathing. Despite me being highly inebriated, my heart was about to beat out of my chest.

“Why you bein’ so quiet?” he finally asked, lips brushing sweetly against my ear. Then he laid a soft kiss just underneath it. “You said you came to fuck. Don’t get all shy on me now.” 

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