#yahya abdul mateen ii fan fic

[miyuhpapayuh]

four.

Over the past couple weeks, Zora and Leon have gone on many more dates.

He'd taken her back to the flower shop, and he actually got to pay for the pretty roses she'd picked out.

Picnics by the water, munching on fruit and watching the ducks swim in the pond, til the sun started to melt in the sky.

Drinks at Nicole’s, where Leon told her more about his past antics, and Zora shared a little bit more than she had, making him feel a little more at ease.

Now they're putting their own spin on a paint & sip, courtesy of her spacious living room and art supplies from Michaels.

“Thank god for low coffee tables, huh?” Leon says from the other side of the table, sitting with his long legs stretched out, painting a balloon flower.

He'd told her he was gonna plant some just to see if one could actually pop the petals.

“Right. Ma knew I would need it for something other than propping my feet on top,” she hums a laugh, while painting a bell flower.

Her legs are also stretched out, her bare feet just touching his sock-covered ones.

“Sorry, I'm not a wine person. A buzz ball is the only way I'll participate,” he raises his lime-rita to her strawberry-rita, a smirk on his lips.

“It's okay, like I told you, I only like white wine on occasion. This is perfect.” She replies, clinking the rounded cans together as they take a sip.

“What you paintin’ over there?”

“It's supposed to be a surprise, Leon.”

“Why?”

“Cause,” she chuckles, dipping her brush in the water mug, before dipping it back into her blue-purple mixture.

“Cause?”

“Cause I said so. That good enough?” She looks at him over her glasses, catching the goofy look on his face as he looks back at her.

“Mhm,” he nods, pursing his lips together. “Good enough.”

Carrying on painting and sipping, the pair nod along to the playlist, courtesy of Leon and his surprisingly good taste.

“I like this song.”

Blk oddysy’s funkentology bumps through the black, rectangular speaker that's sitting on the floor. Also courtesy of Leon.

“I'm glad. Sharing music can be nerve wracking.”

“Sharing can be nerve wracking.” She adds, fanning her canvas with her hand.

“Still painting over there?” She asks.

“Nah, I was waiting on you.”

“Oh, my bad. I tend to zone out a little.”

“No worries,” he shrugs. “I just hope it doesn't look like a child painted it.” He jokes.

She laughs, giving him the finger. “First and last time you'll be invited over.”

“Damn, that quick?”

“Childish, huh?” She squints, making him laugh this time.

“Touché.” He says, turning his canvas around to share his painting.

“Wow,” she admires the picture, “you've got skills!”

He chuckles, humbly thanking her with a low hanging head.

“I try, I try.”

“Let's see yours, now.” He motions toward it, catching how shaky her hand became as she lifted it from the table.

She was a little nervous to share, obviously.

Maybe a little more than usual, but she knew it was from all the words swirling around in her brain, telling her to be careful and have fun, not choose the latter just cause it's fun…

Cause fun ends.

Flipping the canvas around, she watches his eyes dart over her cluster of purple-blue bell flowers, like he's following the brushstrokes.

“Do you like it?” She asks, nervously chewing on her lip.

“Yeah, this is beautiful, Zora.” He responds, looking up at her to catch the small smile on her lips.

“Thank you. I take pride in ‘em.” She says, before sitting the canvas back on the table.

“I can tell. It shows in your work.”

“I hope so!,” she laughs, “I took an extra thirty seconds for that last flower!”

“And it was time well took! It's okay.” He joins in the laughter, making her feel better.

“Okay.” She nods, folding her hands in her lap.

“Can I ask you something?” He asks.

“You kinda already did,” she smirks, earning a playful sigh from his end.

“Alright, well my second question, smarty pants, is why are you closed off?”

“I… there hasn't been a reason for me to not be that way. Not in a while, so I'm kinda used to it… I guess.”

“Like a second nature, almost?”

“Exactly,” she replies, sighing to herself.

“You think.. I could be someone to open up to? Maybe one day?” He asks, staring right at her.

“Maybe one day,” she repeats, “if you earn it.”

“Yes ma'am.”

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The music continued on as they felt compelled to slink together and sway, their buzzes reducing them to slurred words and giggles.

“Can I ask you a question?” Zora asks, her ear still pressed against his chest.

“You kinda already did,” he mocks, earning a harmless slap on his arm.

“Of course you can. Wassup?”

“Why are you so open?”

“I wasn't always open. I actually relate to you not telling too much, a lot. Nobody's hearing what you sayin’, so why say it, right?”

“Yeah, exactly. It's like ammo for people, and they become a story to tell the next person. I'm sick of stories.” She huffs, holding him a little tighter.

He looks down at her, smiling to himself.

“But people— the right people come along, and you wanna tell stories again.. cause maybe they'll be a good story, maybe a, close that book and open a new one kind of story, ya know?” He rambles, still looking down at the top of her head.

“Yeah,” she nods. “I wanna know what it's like— I'm trying.”

“I know. You're doing better than you think.” He assures, making her look up and meet his gaze.

“Really?” She asks, the usual depth in her voice was somehow a little deeper and sweeter.

“Again, I almost forgot how to speak.” He breathily says, catching himself before he leaned in too much, even though she was fighting to meet him halfway.

“But, yeah. Much better than you think.”

“Good,” she nods, feeling the heat rush over her brown cheeks, thankful they didn't give her away so easily.

“Can I kiss you, Zora?” He asks, unable to contain himself.

She answers with a tug at his collar, pulling him down to her level to close the space between them as their lips attach to each other.

Fireworks times a million are going off in their heads, as their lips mold together perfectly. He sighs into the kiss, making her swoon hard.

Pulling away first, she takes a moment to look at him.

Him and those dark brown pools for eyes of his, so soft and inviting. And those lips! Softer than that.

“Wow,” she says, pulling him back for another kiss. Her hands find the sides of his face, as he wraps his arms around her a little tighter.

Thankfully backing into the couch as their knees began to wobble, the pair fell into a fit of laughter as they hit the cushions.

Now they're staring at each other, slightly panting as their minds race.

“What are you thinking about?” He asks.

She softly shakes her head. “I don't know. You?”

“You.” He answers.

“Me. What about me?”

“Everything. What you'll show me. What you won't.”

“I can't promise to open up right away, cause it's been a while. But I'm trying.” She repeats.

“I know.”

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“Alright, girl. What's going on?” Nique asks, as they sit at their usual spot in Nicole’s.

“So, I've been hanging out with Leon for a couple weeks now and he's making it really hard for me. I be feelin’ compelled to say more than I think I should and I just… what do I do?” Zora asks.

“You go with the flow, girl. That's all you can do.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah!” She reiterates, making Zora chuckle a bit. “I know it's not always the easiest thing to do, but there's gotta be a point where you can be comfortable enough to share and know someone won't use it against you later, and from what you're telling me, you haven't given him anything past a phone number and brief rundown of your old boos.”

“Yeah, he's been super patient and I don't wanna run him off or anything, cause I uh…” She trails off.

“What? You like him? Duh!”

She playfully rolls her eyes at her best friend.

“No— well, yeah I do like him. But, we kissed the other night and—”

“What??” She whisper-yells.

“Nique,”

“Zora!”

“Stop it!” She giggles.

“No, you stop it! How was it??”

“It was beautiful.”

“Wow,”

“That's what I said.”

“Wow, how did that happen?”

“We did our own paint ‘n sip. Sipped a little too much and ended up real close.” She sighs.

“So, that changed something.”

“Yeah, it was the way he looked at me right before he asked if he could kiss me. It was like I was bare and he could see everything I wasn't saying.”

“He asked if he could kiss you? That's so cute!” Nique squeals, and Zora let's her have her little things moment, because they do matter.

“Yeah, he's adorable. I hate to say it,” she laughs.

“Well, what are you gonna do now?”

“I don't know. I thought about getting together again and do the talking, this time. I just love to listen, ya know?”

“Well he and I agree, you've listened to enough. It's time you be the one that's being listened to. That's what you're always saying.”

“Always?”

“See, you talk so much, you don't even know how many times you repeat shit.” She cracks, earning a smack to the arm.

That's why I told ma about what you said! She's comin’ to tan that hide!”

“No!”

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Back together in his apartment this time, the pair sit closer than usual on his couch, falling into another lovely conversation.

“Tell me there's an older version of you.”

“Oh, my sisters and I are very different people,” she laughs. “I've got two older sisters.”

“Really?”

“Absolutely! Neoma is a true middle child, just wild and aloof, and Lovita, the beloved spitfire, is the oldest.”

“You're not wild, flower child?” He pokes her knee, making her laugh.

“No, you retired hoodlum!” She pokes him back in the chest, and he dramatically covers the spot, followed by an “ouch!”, as if she'd really bruised him.

“Heavy handed ass.” He laughs.

“Oh please, that was nothing.” She waves him off.

“I'm sure. So this sarcasm gene you got is one of a kind, huh?”

“Don't you think so?” She bats her lashes, just to see if it had any effect. It did.

“Yeah, you sumn else.”

“I've heard. But you can ask ‘em, they'll use any excuse to tell somebody how annoying they find it. As if I don't got my lists ready and loaded for them.” She snorts, while he shakes his head.

“Sounds like quite the trio.”

“You literally have to be there,” she adds.

And he was planning on being there, one day.

“What about you? There different versions of you out there?” She asks.

“In girl form, yes. Talk about a thorn in your side? Eryn knows all about it.”

“She's the youngest?” She asks for clarification, to which he nods.

“Five years makes a world of a difference, let me tell you.” He stresses, making her laugh.

“Aw, let her live. Twenty-five can be a tough age.”

“Was it tough for you?”

“Yeah, I went through a couple hardships— one being the ratchet ass breakup I was telling you about.” She sighs, shaking her head. “But, I made it through. Twenty-eight is hopefully gonna be a better year.”

“How's it been so far? For real.” He asks.

“It's had its moments of glory and its moments of dread, but overall it's been a good year so far. A day at a time, ya know? Maybe even a couple days at a time.” She snorts, earning a small smile in return.

“Yeah, I can definitely relate to that. A couple days at a time, for real.” He stresses, making her giggle.

“Life is ridiculous, sometimes.”

“And sometimes, it does its thing.” He notes with a raise of his brow.

“You flirtin’ with me?” She asks, squinting at him.

“Every chance I get, shorty.”

Did that earn him another juicy kiss? Maybe.

Was he grinning from ear to ear? Absolutely.

“So, how come you don't have your art in a gallery somewhere? You're super talented.” He asks.

“I think about it often, but then I second guess myself into not wanting anybody to see my work,” she sighs.

“How come?”

“I'm a perfectionist, so any mistake that I can see, I think others can too and it just makes me anxious.” She explains.

“Understandable, even though the flaws are what make every piece beautiful.”

“What are you, a walking poem?” She jokes.

He chuckles. “I'm just being real with you, Zora. I think you should really consider putting your work out there, whether it's tomorrow or ten years from now. It's too good to not share it.”

“Thanks,” she smiles, “maybe one day.”

“There you go.”

“Well, what about you?”

“What?”

“Talents. Besides being fine and a cornball, what else you got up your sleeve?”

“A cornball? You said I was funny!” He exclaims with a laugh, causing her to join in.

“You are funny.. and a cornball,” she reiterates, bursting into another fit of giggles.

“Anyway,” he thumps her thigh, “I write sometimes, which is probably why you think I'm a walking poem.”

“Really?? Oh, that's so cool, and it makes so much sense.”

“Does it?”

“Yep, all the dots are connecting.” She grins.

“Keeps me grounded, ya know?”

“Yeah,” she nods, “so when are you gonna share a piece with me?”

“Soon.” He smirks.

Might be my favorite chapter 🤭💜 they're just so so!!

Ch 5

@thegifstories @sheabuttahwrites @nayaxwrites @soufcakmistress @ghostfacekill-monger @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @blackerthings @blowmymbackout @blackpinup22 @henneseyhoe @awerkofart @abeautifulmindexposed @twistedcharismaaa

#mochaff #miyuhpapayuh #poc writers #blackwriters #black romance #zora x leon #yahya abdul mateen ii fan fic #yahya abdul mateen ii fanfiction #yahya fanfiction #Spotify

[megamindsecretlair]

Runaway Lover, Part 1

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

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

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

Word Count: 9,326k

Part 2

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He was in a word: devastating. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“My friends,” you finally said. 

“But no guy?” He asked. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What happened to new experiences?” Angela asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What took you so long?” You asked. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re distracting me,” you said. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Come back to my room,” he said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You are so gorgeous,” he said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t control yourself,” you said. 

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

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

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

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

“N-No,” you moaned. 

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

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

“Yess,” you sighed against his lips. 

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

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

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

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

“N-No,” you whined. 

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

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

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

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

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

“Say it if you wanna cum,” he said.

“I wanna,” you whined. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So bad,” he agreed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Gonna bust,” he groaned.

“Wanna taste,” you said around his dick. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh shit!” You cried out. 

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

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

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

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

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

“Achgg,” you moaned, eyes rolling. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck,” he said. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You do. With me,” he said. 

You shook your head. “You’re crazy.” 

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

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

“Tomorrow,” you said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It belongs to me,” you said.

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

“Do we have a problem?” He asked.

“Do we?” You countered.

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

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

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

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

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

“I’on want to,” he said.

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

“I know. I know.” 

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

“Not forever.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Secret Big Stunna Files | Part 2

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

[xo-tough-love-xo]

That show and giffing black panther or anything black gets these likes from people so basically almost need to stop making and you can keep looking at your white movies and white actors being giffed all the time on here. The reblog to like ratio on stuff jus getting worse every year since this is about to be text post site and Instagram site

#once the black panther fandom died couple years ago I should have 🛑 #chadwick boseman #gif maker problems #michael b. jordan #yahya abdul mateen ii #I get likes on all three of these men then gifs be stolen for fan fic #black panther

[henneseyhoe]

MASTERLIST

( smut= R , angst= ~ , fluff= +)

MICHAEL B. JORDAN

Unexpected Expected Guest (R) (Halloween special)

P POWER (R)

Erik takes readers virginity (R)

KILLA HOTLINE | CHAPTER ONE | CHAPTER TWO

NEW RULES (~)

Adonis being clingy with his wife and new baby (+)

My Big Three As Boyfriends (+)

The Return Of Killjoy (R) (Halloween Special)

YAHYA ABDUL MATEEN II

Interrupted quickie (R+)

“Tell daddy you sorry”(request) (R)

My Big Three As Boyfriends (+)

TREVANTE RHODES

WORKOUT (R)

Country lovin’ | Teaser | intro | Cookin’ Soul | Trial And Error (R)(~)(+)

My Big Three As Boyfriends (+)

SMILE FOR ME, DADDY | BEDROOM BULLY (R)

KOFI SIRIBOE

USE ME (R)

GREG TARZAN DAVIS

Pillow Talk (+)

KEITH POWERS

You deserve it (R)

DAMSON IDRIS

Next lifetime (request) (R)(~)

JOHN BOYEGA

Freaky Girl (R)

Blurb. (R)

Still Mine. (R)

✮OTHERS✮

⭣

JOEY BADA$$

THROW AWAY (R~)

LAMELO BALL

Creepin’ (R)

✮

OCs

I think she like me. (R)

More coming soon…<3

#yahya abdul mateen ii smut #yahya abdul mateen ii #michael b jordan #killmonger fic #michael b jordan smut #erik killmonger #killmonger smut #black reader #black!fem!reader #black fanfic writer #black!oc #black fanfiction #black!reader #black actors #trevante rhodes #trevante rhodes smut #smut masterlist #masterlist #fan fiction #fic masterlist #kofi siriboe #kofi siriboe smut #joey bada$$ #joey badass smut #unique smut #raising kanan smut #keith powers #Keith powers smut #henneseyhoe

[sheabuttahwrites]

Fine Print

*chapter three

( ch. 2 )

Shea Buttah Bakery Masterlist

3. Though his hand commanded my face, overwhelmed, I had to cut our junction short. The distance, and probably a few other things, had him biding for my lips like he’d never get another opportunity. But I needed to catch my breath. Shit.

“You're pregnant?” He cut right into my respite with what I had been trying to put off. My time had run out. I nodded, chest heaving from a mixture of stubborn unease and an agonizing yearning. “How long have you known?”

“Just a week.” He kept his eyes on mine, searching for the truth as he often did. Any move I made, he was right there. I knew I wouldn’t be able to get away, so I’d learned to not even try. Ready or not, I was gonna have to speak up. “…It's yours.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. That night at the hotel.”

His hand went up over his eyes before sliding down to his chin as he tilted his head back, exhaling his frustration into the air.

“I know, Yahya.”

“We gon’ put each other through this again?”

The look in his eyes killed me. Without question, I hated this part of our relationship the most. “I don't want to.”

“Then let’s do it right this time.”

I brought my arms down from his shoulders and my gaze followed. The shame I felt hit a level that made it impossible for me to maintain eye contact.

“I’m not trying to make you feel bad. I just wanna be in their lives. I wanna be there for you, to help you through this. It’s not fair to any of us. Especially them, Rain.”

“I don’t like it either, Yah.”

“So what's our next move?”

I shook my head out of sheer confusion. I didn't have any of the answers. “I wish it was that simple.”

“It is, baby. I got you. You know that.”

He had a calm urgency in his words, apparent urgency in his face as he brought it down to my lowered eyes. Maybe it really was that simple. Maybe all I had to do was tell Isaiah the truth and move on with my life.

“…I don't know, Yah. But I do know that I missed you.” This I was sure of. I didn't need to think about it. The certainty led my face right back to his.

“I missed you, too. A hell of a lot.” His features softened as he leaned into me again, adorning my lips with a barrage of starved kisses. His big arms called to my hands. Then his shoulders. His chest. I hadn't been able to touch him in so long.

“When did you… start wearing suits?”

“I wanted to look good for you.”

“You look so good. And you smell amazing.”

“I ain't ever got shit on you. This fucking dress. If it wasn't a shame, I would put you up against this building right now.” Instead, he grabbed below my chin and gently guided my head to the side, taking his kisses down to my neck. The arm he’d already had around my waist pulled me so close. My fingers curled, clinging to his shirt. I sighed as my eyes started to roll like thunder. “Spend the night with me,” he whispered, lips grazing my ear just enough to get a quiet moan out of me. As if he needed to say anything.

“Ok.”

He pursed against my skin one last time before coming up to place his forehead against mine, lovingly caressing my face. “Another baby, huh?”

“Yeah.” I knew he was conflicted, the same as me. I could tell that he was happy, but the situation absolutely sucked. “Another baby.”

Yahya was my first love.

We met in the seventh grade, back in New Orleans. I remember scanning the room on the first day, seeing all the familiar faces, and then I clocked a new one. I was quite outgoing as a kid, so it was nothing for me to go over and say hello. There was even an open seat next to him, it was also near my best friend at the time, so I took it. He was so shy at first, but I broke him out of that shell and we became fast friends. After that, the three of us were always together. In eighth grade, we joined band; me on clarinet and him on sax. I only lasted a few months, to my parents’ chagrin, but he actually liked it and kept it up. I also got a little more freedom that year, so we stayed at the movies, skating rink, bowling alley, the mall, and anywhere else our thirteen year old selves could find. I remember one day, ugly Calvin Thomas decided he wanted to yank at one of my braids while we were in Old Navy. Yahya was madder than me. That was the day I started to look at him a little differently. Yahya was cute. And a real sweetheart. Later that year, he got me a gift for Valentine’s Day. Then two months later, he got me a gift for my birthday. Both out of nowhere. I kind of felt like he liked me, but neither of us ever brought it up. I guess we were both shy when it came to that. Before long, though, I had fallen for his lanky self, too.

When we got to high school, Yah became a totally different person. He was bad as hell, always getting into trouble. He wasn't doing his work so his grades fell, he was getting into fights, being rude to teachers, and he had a new group of friends who I didn't even bother trying to meet. I didn't know what was going on with him, but he was still so sweet to me. My parents couldn't stand it. I didn't care, I was in love. At the end of eleventh grade, I finally found out what had caused him to act so differently. His dad had been very ill and he never told me. Nobody knew anything of it until his dad passed away. Not even a week later, his mom packed up everything they owned and that was it. My Yahya was gone. I was devastated. My parents tried to be comforting, but I knew they were happy and it made things so much worse. Once Yah and his family were settled, he called me and told me they were in Oakland. I knew he was gone, but damn, to learn that he was so far away messed me up. We kept with the long distance thing for a while, texting and talking on the phone every chance we got. Until those chances became more and more scarce. I couldn't remember a certain day or cause, but at some point we had our last conversation. I figured he had just found some way to move on. I spent the rest of that summer in my room, filled with too many emotions to even try and make any sense of. And my senior year wasn't any better. To top off a year of heartache, my parents had friends in Texas whose son was going to my university, so they insisted that we meet. They made me go to my prom with him. I was so pissed. My senior prom, that I had been planning for so long, was really about to be a blind date. Who does that? When I saw him, though, it eased a little of my anger. He was fine. I had worn all black just to be defiant, but he came through in a fresh tux, complementing me well. We looked bomb, I couldn't deny. I would rather it had been something more colorful and with Yahya, but I didn't have that option. I decided to just go and enjoy myself, and we actually had a pretty good time. He was funny and such a gentleman all night. We kept in contact after that and even entered college as a couple. It goes without saying, my parents were pretty happy with themselves then. And even more so since we were still together.

As for Yahya, I hadn't heard from him in well over two years and I hadn't seen him for even longer. So imagine my surprise, Sophomore year, when Isaiah walks over to introduce me to the new drum major and I turn around only to come face to face with the love of my life. The way my soul left my body. I almost jumped right into his arms, but I had to contain myself. We just said hello and carried on like it was our first time meeting. I don't know why we did it. I never asked him why. And it just never became knowledge, to Zay or the rest of the group, that we were already acquainted. Needless to say, we didn't miss a beat. Feelings I thought were gone flooded my heart, and I know they did the same for him. We picked up exactly where we’d left off. Tragically, his and Zay’s friendship was blossoming right in the midst. This made shit so much more complicated than it already was. I was sure Yah had done everything he could to avoid it, but working closely in the marching band as well as being part of the same crew and having similar personalities, they were best friends in no time. To this day, it was the bane of my existence.

“We have to go back inside.”

“Shit. Yeah.” He shook his head, eyes fluttering, coming out of a surely chaotic daze. “I should be back from the bathroom by now. I’ll go first.”

“Ok.”

We parted ways and I watched him walk away from me. Inevitably came the thoughts of wanting to just disappear with him. The thoughts that tormented me every single time he entered my consciousness. Followed by the also inevitable guilt. I felt like shit as I forced my feet back to our table.

“Got it,” I announced, holding my phone up as I went for my chair. I unlocked it and brought up the pictures that Yah had absolutely already seen. “There she is. There's a few, so swipe.” He even saw her pretty regularly through Facetime.

“Yo, she changed so much in four months. Look how big she is.”

“I know. It’s so crazy how fast it happens.”

“Seeing it happen in real time is wild, bro,” Zay added, wide eyed. It was true, but damn, why did he have to say it?

“I bet it is. When I’ma see her?” He looked directly at me when he asked the question.

“Soon, if Renee let’s us get her back,” Zay joked, giving me yet another out. I had lost count at this point.

“Leave my momma alone.” Everybody was laughing, including me. We all knew how she was. “I’ma call her when we’re done here. She might let me pick her up.”

“We’ll see. She don't ever be wanting to give people their kids back.”

“She really doesn't.” I couldn't even front, he wasn't telling a single lie. My mom loved kids, especially her grandbabies.

“Here you go, Rain,” Yahya said, handing me my phone. “She’s beautiful, y’all.”

“Thanks, man.”

“Look at us. Everybody’s all grown, with flourishing careers, beautiful children and marriages. Seems like just yesterday we were all in the dorm chanting ‘light as a feather, stiff as a board,’ thinking we could lift Yahya’s big self with our fingers.”

The table erupted with laughter after Priscilla made that memory resurface. I had forgotten all about that. We stayed with some foolishness back in the day.

Our waitress reappeared with everyone’s food and we continued to bask in the merriment as we ate. Yah told us more tour stories, we shared more laughs, a bottle of champagne came out, and we eventually had dessert. Everything tasted so good. I was shocked, because in my experience more expensive restaurants usually came up short in the flavor department. But we all agreed that this place was on point. Casey said it was because there were probably black people in the kitchen. And she probably wasn't wrong.

We clowned around for a little while longer before we were finally ready to leave. It was around seven forty-five and the sun was starting to set so beautifully. Isaiah had to be at work by nine so, thankfully, he had his uniform in the car. I had told him to leave it, thinking he would have plenty of time to run back by the house and get dressed. But I guess I should've known better. We hadn't all been together in a long time. This place was a little out of the way, too, and there was sure to be some traffic. So, he was right. Plus it saved me a little bit of time as well. Pris and Jason were dropping me off at home. My plan was to take a shower and pack myself a small bag before I went to pick up Raya. Surprisingly, my mom didn't give much push back when I called to let her know I was coming. Things were almost going too well for me tonight. It wasn't out of the ordinary for me to stay at Casey’s place. It was basically my second home. Isaiah worked constantly. Constantly. And I just didn't like being in the house by myself all the time. Even the Ring system he insisted would make me feel safer, wasn't always enough. So, whenever Case wasn't busy, Raya and I would be right over there in our room. Really, this had all worked out perfectly.

“You still got time to call out.”

“Nah, man,” Zay laughed, stepping away from Jason and the rest of the guys after their usual ritual of goodbyes. “Next time, though.”

“Yeah, aight.”

Knowing Zay was lying, they both laughed as he came over and slid his arms underneath mine, pulling me into a lovely embrace. “Mmmm,” he groaned into the crook of my neck, squeezing me so tight. His hugs were always the best. He reluctantly came out of it and peered down into my face. I smiled. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, baby.”

But, when he kissed me, all I could think about was Yahya standing right there beside us. I couldn't imagine what it made him feel like to have to see shit like this whenever he was around. I know it was part of why he’d chosen to move away. The closest I had gotten was seeing him date other girls while we were in college. And it ate me up! I can't even describe the pain. It was unlike anything I had ever experienced. Having to watch him with a wife would surely bring me to my knees.

“Aight. I’ma head on over here. You have a good night.”

“You, too, babe. Don't work too hard.”

He kissed me again, smiling on my lips. “Aight, mama.” Then he gave me his bag of leftovers before starting toward his truck. “Don't eat my food.”

“And I will.” His head swung back and we shared a healthy laugh. “Don't forget to text me when you get there.”

“Ok, babe, I got you. See you tomorrow.”

“Ok.”

—

I secured Raya’s car seat tightly behind the passenger seat. Her grandma had already gotten her washed up for the evening so all I had to do was replenish her bag. Which I had done while packing my own before I left home. This was the first slow moment of the night for me. She was knocked out and I didn't want to wake her because of my own anticipation. I had been moving at the speed of light before. I couldn't help it, all of me needed this night. My phone had notified me of a couple texts about fifteen or so minutes ago, and I didn't even have time to stop and check them. Even after I wasn't driving anymore. It was probably Zay’s behind just remembering to tell me that he had made it to work safely. I knew he would forget.

My dad, who had come out with me to be an extra set of hands and eyes, opened the door for me as I made my way around to the driver’s side. When I hopped in, he closed it for me as well. My dad had always been the epitome of chivalry. My mom and I were so lucky.

“Everything good?” he asked through the half-open window as it was still slowly coming down.

“Perfect. Thanks, dad.”

“Alright. Be careful on that road. Drive safe.”

“I will. Goodnight. Love you.”

“Love you, too, Muff. Let us know when y’all get inside.”

“Ok.”

“Stay aware of your surroundings now.”

“Always, dad,” I reassured him, with a smile. He was so serious about this kind of stuff, but I appreciated it.

He nodded, stepping away from the car. “Alright.”

I rolled the window back up and settled into my seat once he was headed for the house. That’s when it hit me to check my phone, so I grabbed it from the cupholder. One text was from Zay, but the other was not. When I read the latter, my breath stopped in my throat. It was short and simple, but that didn't curb the severe impact it had all through my aching body.

No panties.

I was already one step ahead of him. He didn't even know.

@youlovetkay @4ftwonder @cecereads209 @thisiswhatshefelt @smollettmajors @lemmewritesomeish @livindeelife

-taglist-

#yahya abdul mateen ii #yahya abdul-mateen ii #yahya abdul mateen ii fanfiction #yahya fanfiction #yahya abdul mateen ii fanfic #yahya fanfic #yahya abdul mateen ii fan fiction #yahya fan fiction #yahya fic #yahya abdul mateen ii fic #yahya abdul-mateen ii fanfiction #yahya abdul-mateen ii fanfic #yahya abdul-mateen ii fan fiction #yahya abdul-mateen ii fic #yahya abdul-mateen ii imagine #yahya abdul mateen ii imagine #yahya imagine #black fanfiction #black fanfic #black fiction #black fic #black oc #black female oc #black plus size oc #black reader #black plus size reader #plus size reader #plus size oc #Fine Print #SheaButtahWrites

[emjayewrites]

Just For Tonight (Oneshot)

Synopsis: Yahya finally gets the chance to spit game to a fellow actress. 

Pairings: Yahya Abdul-Mateen II x Zenaida “Zen” Christoph

Taglist: @tgigoldie @wakandalivesforever @anonymousmadame2911 @write-fromthe-start @sheabuttahwrites @chaneajoyyy @ororowrites @royallyprincesslilly @soufcakmistress @shaekingshitup @kumkaniudaku @l-auteuse @areubeingserved @blackburnbook @raysunshine78 @reignandrain @winchwm @ghostfacekill-monger @essaysbyciara @twistedcharismaaa @miyuhpapayuh @cecereads209 @mauvecherie @my-rosegold-soul @honeydulcewrites @iwrite4poc @blackmissfrizzle @blowmymbackout @minton131 @mochachocolatteyaya @roxyfan14-blog @naturalspice28 @eerythingisshaka @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @alwaysenjoythelifeyoulive @here-for-your-bullshit @thefantasyride @vikkidc @infintywhore @soulfood-fics @toni9 @kiabialia @afriendlyblackhottie @qveenmelanink @ljstraightnochaser @uzumaki-rebellion @kittehkwrites @bugngiz @cecereads209 @cydhouseofgryffindor​ @smollettmajors​ @earl-aive​ @retro-rezz-the-est​

A/N: I do not know Yahya or his family personally. This is solely fiction and any similarities are coincidental. Enjoy the drabble.

P.S. this may or may not be the start of a short series....

Although Yahya craved attention, so much so that some even complained that he had a borderline excessive attention-seeking disorder, he loathed talk shows. And as often as he would smile, joke, laugh, and play the mind games for the audience, he did not enjoy repeating the same story again and again nor did he like being called a ‘sex symbol’. To his family and close friends, he was just Yahya, simple as that, however, this whole concept of being famous warranted unwanted stress and constant spotlight. 

That was the downside of making a name for himself in Hollywood: the stress and spotlight. Yes, he loved interacting with fans, but the paparazzi was doing too much at times. Nevertheless, he was grateful for his immediate success and momentum, not to mention the opportunities that were presented to him. 

Overall, fame came with a price to pay, yet the perks were worth it in the end. For months, there have been rumors swirling around social media about a possible Netflix series in the works with a new starlet, Zen Christoph. Little mamas have been making a name for herself in the independent film circuit and were even nominated for an Academy Award for Best Supporting Actress. Safe to say, Yahya fancied her a bit; she was easy on the eyes, smart as a whip, and quite witty. 

A fellow New Orleanian, Zen was raised in the Tremé neighborhood before moving with her mother to live in Chicago. Even though they followed one another on Twitter and Instagram, they never had the chance to truly speak to one another face-to-face, at least not until tonight. 

He has seen her around at afterparties and she was friends with Candyman co-star, Teyonah Parris. Despite this, they still never managed to link up once. Amid a promotion tour for Aquaman 2 and post-production for Matrix 4, Yahya finally had time for some much-deserved R&R as well as to peruse scripts for potential projects. This downtime was the opportune moment to catch up and perhaps even spit game to a lovely woman. 

He busied himself with his iPhone as he waited for James Corden to finish his monologue. Once the host of The Late Late Show introduced him, Yahya slowly walked down the steps with a wooing swagger, high-fiving guests as he passed them. Men cheered, women ogled wantonly and chanted his name like a lustful litany; he was in absolute heaven. 

The corners of his mouth lifted into a wide, dimpled grin, a fan favorite that caused the female audience to go wild with hormonal hysteria. James shook his head at the scene then prompted Yahya to take a seat on the couch. 

“Let’s calm down now, let’s calm down,” James instructed, gesturing with his hands. The mania soon dissolved into silence and he let out a huff of air. “I don’t know how you do it, man.” 

Yahya shrugged as he tugged his left ear nervously. “Me neither, honestly, but I take it in stride.” And this was the truth. As previously mentioned, he loved attention, but it still made him a bit taken aback that women found him attractive. He knew that he was handsome, however, having so many women in his DMs was as endearing as it was off-putting. Sometimes, the thirst truly ran free and the sheer nastiness of their messages was astounding. 

James and Yahya fell easily into lighthearted conversation, discussing a myriad of topics before James eventually announced that Zen will be making her debut on the show. At the sound of this, Yahya’s posture instantly straightened and he adjusted the collar of his shirt. In a matter of seconds, the audience and himself were graced with the presence of Zenaida Christoph. 

Dressed in a strapless black dress with a slit up to her upper thigh and strappy stiletto heels, Zen was a sight for sore eyes and garnered all the male attention at the venue. Ever the gentleman, Yahya immediately got up to escort her down the stairs and he inhaled deeply at the scent of her deep, smoky perfume. 

“Thanks,” she muttered appreciatively to him when they sat down, adding a toothy grin for good measure. 

“Anytime, mamas,” he responds, licking his lower lip. The motion made her divert her eyes to his full lips and he swore that he heard her sigh in admiration. 

“First things first, welcome to The Late Late Show, Zen,” greeted James with an enthusiastic clap of his hands. “It’s a pleasure to have you here. Do you know Yahya?” 

Zen throws her hair back over her shoulder in a sexy manner before giving Yahya a thorough once-over. “I am familiar with him, yes.” She shot him a dazzling smile, which made Yahya’s lower region stir within the confines of his pants. Her sultry voice paired with that seductive smirk of hers made him arouse like no other. Zen was Aphrodite incarnate, sexy beyond comprehension, and truly irresistible. “I’m a big fan.” 

“Same here, mamas,” he retorted, patting her bare leg affectionately. Yahya was just going with the vibe they initially set, and he hoped that he wasn’t being offensive. Nonetheless, his worries subsided when he felt the gentle brush of her leg against his. 

Oh, so it’s like that, huh? Say the fuck less. 

“Really? What’s your favorite role of mine?” she taunted him, making both the audience and James gasp in shock.

Yahya, completely unaffected and refusing to waver, chuckled at her words. “You’re putting me on the spot, eh?”

“Sure am,” countered Zen proudly. 

“Well,” he drawled, facing Zen to give her his undivided attention, “if you must ask, my favorite role of yours has to be Kivah in Searching Somewhere, yet I am partial to your feature in Insecure.” 

Zen smiled contently as memories began to flood her brain of her time as a reoccurring character on Insecure. “I love that show and everyone involved.” 

“Now, what ‘bout me?” 

It was her time to chuckle. “Watchmen, hands down. You were amazing as Dr. Manhattan, not to mention your notable nude scene. It made me....well...I don’t think we can discuss alladat on television.” 

The audience hooted at the exchange and if it was possible, Yahya’s sable skin would redden at this moment. Suffice to say, he was grateful for his melanin, yet it did not stop the warm flush to his cheeks. Zen’s cocky smile never faltered and James blinked in surprise, his mouth agape. 

“You two are going for it, my goodness!” he screeched, glancing back and forth between them. “I can’t believe it.” 

Both Yahya and Zen shared a unisonous laugh then dismissed James’ comments, yet it was no denying the instant chemistry they had nor the rapport. 

“So...the nude scene did it for you, huh?” he asked, eyes narrowing into an intense gaze. Yahya could not help himself; he needed more clarification in regards to the provocations she felt while watching that particular scene, and when James brought it up once again, he decided to divulge in the query. 

Zen’s brows lifted in amusement. “Feeling bold, sir?” 

“Hell yeah,” he retorted without a second thought, prompting everyone to chuckle. Yahya relaxed his arm over the back of the couch, trapping Zenaida in a hazy bubble of lust. His hand slowly began to reach to her to caress her neck, the pad of his thumb rubbing circles in her soft skin. 

He was putting on the charm heavy, and Zen lapped it up like a lovesick puppy. She taunted him by leaning backward, pressing up against his hand until he wrapped his fingers around her neck for a light chokehold. 

“Do it,” pantomimed Zen, egging him on to apply some pressure. Shocked, and overwhelmed with obvious arousal, Yahya did as he was told, squeezing slightly to give Zen a nice choke. Her eyes drooped and she let out a huff of air. 

Biting down on his bottom lip, Yahya increased the pressure on her neck, cutting off some of her air supply. To his surprise, no one seems to catch on to what they were doing, for Zen carried on with the conversation as if nothing was happening. Yahya easily noted that Zen had a freaky side to her that was just waiting to be released. 

They played this game for the remainder of the interview, teasing each other mercilessly with double entendres and soft caresses. Casting directors and producers could see the potential of their light bickering and teases, so much so that they could be love interests for a film or series. And with that, and eventual follow-up on flirtatious exchanges via Twitter, Zen and Yahya were soon cast in an upcoming paranormal/sci-fi film from Netflix. 

#Yahya Abdul Mateen II #Yahya Abdul-Mateen II #yahya abdul mateen ii fic #yahya abdul mateen ii fan fiction #yahya abdul mateen ii fanfiction

[essaysbyciara]

Old Habits Die Hard| Part Two: Just Be Good To Me

 Yahya Abdul-Mateen II x Dave East x Y/N Fic

SYNOPSIS | PART ONE: DAYS BEFORE

Warnings: Language, Lightweight mentions of sexual situations, brief marijuana use 

Y’all. I’m so overwhelmed by the love I’ve received for this story. Thank you to everyone who read, liked, commented and/or followed me on here. Taglist is STILL OPEN. *squees from joy*

JUST BE GOOD TO ME

Your finger traces the tattoos that dart up and down Dave’s back, the smoke from his blunt curling around his head as he leans back to inhale. The box fan on top of the dresser can only do so much as you push the sheets down to your knees so your torso can catch a quick cool down. You love watching the sweat trail down Dave’s spine. You try to catch each drop before they hit the mattress. 

“I forgot your bougie ass don’t smoke.” You crawl behind Dave, wrapping your supple legs around his waist. Your arms prop up your body so you can get a better look at him as he takes another pull. Dave instinctively starts to caress your left knee with his free hand. Your skin feels like cotton candy to him. You taste even sweeter. 

“You’re gonna stop calling me bougie...” You chuckle gently as you plant gentle kisses on Dave’s shoulder.  

“You know I like messing with you. Chill.” Dave lifts himself off of the bed. He still isn’t used to your love language. You pout as he walks up to his dresser to grab his phone. You try to weaken the feelings of dismissal but Dave catches your body language change in his mirror’s reflection as you lean over the bed to grab your clothes from off the floor. He realizes it was a mistake to walk away from you. 

“Yo. Come here.” You answer Dave’s command, lifting up the sheets to wrap them around your body like a towel. “Fuck the sheets. Come here.” A mischievous grin covers your face. Dave elicits confidence and freedom from you like never before. You walk over to him, hips swaying to the beat of the bass that’s blasting holes throughout the atmosphere outside. Before you can even get within an inch of him, Dave picks you up and sits you on top of the dresser. He kisses you so deep that your legs can’t help but to swing open like a broken screen door. The bass cranking from one of the cars outside sets the pace for your next round with Dave. 

“Fuck…” 

“My bad, Y/N. These potholes ain’t no joke up here.” Yahya’s not-so-smooth driving wakes you up from your slumber. You look down to witness the silent quivering  pulsate from between your legs. This isn’t the first time you’ve dreamed about Dave since you accepted his friend request a few days ago but the closer you were to getting back to Philly, the more intense they became. You grab Yahya’s hand to assuage your guilt. He smiles. Unlike Dave, he needs no help deciphering your love language. 

“It’s okay, babe. I needed to wake up. We’re super close to Aunt Jerri’s.” 

“Should I be scared about meeting your family? You made it seem like they’re gonna cut me if I don’t come correct.”

“Aye, they might.” You tease Yahya. Your left hand starts to caress his inner thigh. “They won’t mess with you. Aunt Jerri always got the family in line, I’m sure. She loves you already and she’s the biggest test to pass.” 

“Good. I really wanted to leave the lawyer that I am back home. Where should I park though?” 

You reorient yourself to the surroundings to direct Yahya to the back street behind Aunt Jerri’s house. You already see the smoke billowing from the barbeques on the street and hear the little ones’ laughs and screams. You also see all of your Dad’s brothers on the back porch playing spades and they’re already at peak shit-talking form.  “You know how to play spades, right?” 

“Don’t let this Berkeley degree fool you, Y/N.” The vibrations from your phone break up your laughter. You open your phone to see an Instagram notification from Dave. You set up post notifications to track him, lying to yourself enough to believe it was to keep tabs on Dave so you wouldn’t run into him at the block party. Your heart knows the truth. He just posted a picture of him and his cousin Pardi posted on his porch. He and his boys are outside ready to play. 

“Is that my Y/N!” 

“Hey Uncle Ro!” Uncle Rodney -- or Ro --  was a barrel of a man who always wore his Sunday best even in the hottest of the weather. He was a preacher at an Pentecostal church who could drink the rest of the family up under the couch. He pulls you in for a hug. You try not to soak in the smells of sweat mixed with Christian Brothers emanating from his body. 

Yahya trails behind you with his hands inside of his pockets because of the growing fear quaking his bones. The spades game has suddenly stopped in its tracks and your other uncles -- Trace and Larry -- and Mr. Reed, who has always been like an uncle to you, start to ice grill Yahya down to his socks. Your Dad must have sent a bat signal from heaven for his brothers to stand tall on his behalf. 

“Y/N! Y/N!!!!!!! Heyyyyyyyyyyyy!” Aunt Jerri breaks up the detente at just the right time. She hugs you with so much force that your eyes almost pop out of their sockets. “And look who we have here, huh? You must be Mr. Yahya. He looks so much like T doesn’t he, Trace….” 

Trace doesn’t respond, still acting as a stand-in for your father. 

“Yahya, baby, don’t let them scare you. Bring your ass in the house.” Yahya feels relieved as Aunt Jerri drags him by the hand into her house to meet more of your family. You follow right behind. 

“Trace, you can relax. The dude bought bags of ice. He’s aight with me,” says your Uncle Larry. Trace doesn’t respond, instead throwing down a ten of spades that erupts the entire table. 

“Run up to the store right quick, Quaadir.” Dave passes a ten dollar bill to his nephew. 

“No, nigga.” Quaadir folds his arms and sticks out his lower lip like it’ll change Dave’s mind. Quaadir is not old enough to be on the corner but he’s talking like them.

“Yo, Pardi. Your son think he brolic. You hear him?! Nigga, what?” Pardi only looks at Quaadir and he quickly changes his mind. “He picking all this up from his moms, man.” The porch erupts in laughter. 

Dave needed this laugh. Especially after seeing your engagement pictures with Yahya. 

It wasn’t what he was expecting to see when he requested to follow you on Instagram. You looked happy and at peace. The paintings inside of the art gallery where you took your engagement photos looked to be showing their approval of your impending union. Dave couldn’t front: you two looked good together. 

You and Dave didn’t go on many dates during your two-week romance. There wasn’t enough time and the time you did have only found you mostly under Dave’s body. The only official date you two went on was when you took him to the Anthropology and Archaeology museum located on the University of Pennsylvania’s campus. He watched you grow in excitement at every exhibit, reading every placard and hanging to the museum docent’s every word. He saw your joy and felt honored to witness it. 

He felt the opposite of joy as he read one of the captions under your pictures. You called Yahya “your favorite discovery.” Your nickname for Dave was “favorite”. You were Dave’s favorite and he lost out on you and that hurt like hell. Nevertheless,  he couldn’t stop scrolling down your Instagram feed. He wanted to see pictures from last summer and of the body,  face, smile and the style of the woman who caused him to want to make an entire course correct on that thing called life. He saw that you still had it all. Asking Ariel was such a waste of time and being at this block party was triggering as all get out. 

People always talking ‘bout reputation… I don’t care about those other girls, just be good to me … ooooooo

“Just Be Good To Me” cascades down Reed Street in a way that you’ve never heard. You missed this place and this time during the summer when everything stops to allow the neighborhood to bask in delight. It was a feeling you desperately needed last year after you decided to ditch a week in the Bahamas and a week of recuperating at home to spend two weeks at Aunt Jerri’s house. Truth be told was that the Bahamas once had a man attached to it but that fell through. 

That’s what led you to go after Dave. 

“It’s hot at Hades out here, my Lord.” Aunt Jerri fans herself as she sits on her stoop overlooking the busy street full of barbeque grills, babies splashing inside of kiddie pools and a DJ blasting everyone’s favorite R&B of the 80s. 

“Rodney! Rodneyyyy! Boy, toss me a Lime-A-Rita. It’s lit cityyyyyyyy!”

“Mom! Who on Earth taught you about anything being “lit”?!” Ariel’s embarrassment grows at her mother’s attempts to be cool. 

“Oh, I’m hip! Too hip to be a square, eyyyy!” She sways ever so gently to “Square Biz” by Teena Marie. 

“Ari, leave her alone! Uncle Rodney, don’t indulge her please.” You sip on your Hennessy with ice because, unlike Aunt Jerri, you were free to indulge. Yahya holds you from behind, sipping the last of his Heineken in between fits of laughter. Your Uncle Trace passes another bottle to Yahya as a peace offering and as an official welcome to the family. Your Dad must’ve sent a message to Trace to stand down. Your yellow sundress with a thigh high split up to high heavens is cooling you off as the heat rises from off of the asphalt. 

“Y/N … you don’t tell Rodney what to do! I do! Let me be great!”

“You got it, Aunt Jerri!” Yahya kisses your right cheek and grips you tighter. He feels right at home and you’re so relieved that he’s here. 

“You know what I need someone to get? More paper plates. Run down to the store, Trace.”

“You got it, Sis.” 

Trace’s fashion sense was stuck in 1996; Ghostface Killah and Raekwon would be so proud. Trace was -- and still is --  feared, revered, loved and lusted over. He was the Dave of his time, his roster of women certified. Truth is that he could still build one, Trace capturing the attention of all of the 40-plus-year-old women on the street as he walks down to the store. He still had it. 

“Yo, Trace!” Dave hops up from the steps of his Aunt’s house to show Trace some love. Trace got Dave an overnight warehouse job years ago and he’s been indebted to him ever since. 

“Peace, king. What’s good?” Dave wants to ask Trace about you but last time he asked someone else in your family, it didn’t end the way he planned. 

“Shit, Trace. Just waiting for the street lights to come on so we can really get it in out here. You at Ms. Jerri’s crib? Everybody up there?” 

“Yeah. Everybody. You remember my niece, Y/N? She came up too.” 

Dave’s mind screams every expletive known to man. He wonders if you came up with you-know-who but asking Trace would open up old wounds and expose a decision that Trace explicitly forbade him not to make. 

Dave was Trace 2.0 and Trace knew it. He didn’t want that for his niece so when he saw Dave flirting with you at last year’s block party, he made it a point to pull Dave to the side to ask him in not-so-nicely terms to knock it off. 

You worked all the way around that threat with the help of Aunt Jerri. 

Aunt Jerri encouraged you to “remember that you’re on vacation” and that “what goes on here, stays here.” She saw the way you looked at Dave. It was the same way she gazed at your Uncle Terrence when she first met him. You were beyond smitten, turned on by the way he walked and talked. Dave could hem you up and pick you up. He oozed confidence that almost crossed into obnoxiousness. You wanted him and couldn’t hide it and Aunt Jerri encouraged to “have some fun with all of that.” She vowed to keep your secret from your Uncle Trace. You didn’t know it would turn into two of the most passionate weeks you would ever have and subsequently the worst heartbreak you ever felt. 

“Yeah, I do.” That’s all Dave could muster up to say as he feels his heart boil over. He daps up Trace, sits back down on the steps and opens up Instagram. 

Yo. You up here? 

Taglist: @yoursoulstea​​ @harleycativy​ @twistedcharismaaa​ @dorkskinneded​​ @need-my-fics​ @ghostfacekill-monger​ @writerbee-ffs​ @chaneajoyyy​ 

#yahya abdul-mateen ii x reader #yahya abdul-mateen ii #dave east #dave east fic #fanfiction #old habits die hard

[miyuhpapayuh]

five.

Zora felt compelled to call her sisters up and get together, especially after the conversation she and Leon had, a few nights ago.

Meeting them at Snooze, they're at their usual spot, in one of the middle rounded booths.

“Hey y'all,” she greets, sliding in on the left side of Lovita.

“We know your secret.” They say in unison.

“What?” Zora asks, her lips barely parting.

“We. Know. Your. Secret.” Neoma repeats.

“Want us to spell it out, next?” Lovita asks.

“No, smart ass.”

“Alright, then spill it.”

“Okay fine, but it wasn't my fault!,” she whispers, “I was drunk! Nique said she'd keep quiet about the body!”

“What??” Lovita asks.

“A body?? You killed the man?!” Neoma whispers back, not knowing whether to laugh or be concerned.

“I had to. He was too pretty!” Zora whispers back.

“Would you two stop it!”

They fall into a fit of laughter, just as their waitress comes to take their drink orders; rummosas all around.

“Okay, you met a man, and apparently he's a good one?” Neoma asks.

“He seems to be, yeah. He's so sweet. So fine, my god y'all. So patient. He's got some soft ass lips.”

“Oh, you've kissed this man?” Lovita eyes her like an older sister would.

“A couple times, uh-huh.” She answers, making them gasp.

“Oh, you like him.” Lovita says.

“No, no. She likes him.” Neoma corrects.

“What's the difference?” Zora asks.

“Right, so how much did you drink and how much did you tell?”

Zora's sisters knew her like the back of their hands, especially Neoma. She was the most intuitive out of them all.

“Those buzz balls are like fifteen percent a gulp, I swear!” She defends against their groans of disapproval.

“Okay, we'll give you a pass on the alcohol. But, you're painting again, yay!” Lovita cheers, Neoma joining in.

“Yeah, it was kinda like another break the ice type of thing, not sure when I'll paint again.”

“How'd it go? I know you get a lil nervous, sometimes.”

“I was nervous as hell! But he's big on reassuring me that it's all good, and I needed that. Made it easier– took the pressure off a lil, ya know?”

“Sounds like quite the man!”

“Yeah, can we see him? You got pictures??”

Their drinks come out and their food orders get put in.

Zora flies to her camera roll, giggling before she turns the phone toward them, swiping through the pictures they'd recently taken together.

Some of them were cute, and others were cuter.

“Wow,” they say in unison, making her giggle all over again.

“I know!”

“Damn, he might be the prettiest man we've seen you with!” Lovita adds.

“I know!” Zora repeats. “Look at me, I'm evolving!” She laughs.

“That smile is killer, my goodness!” Neoma adds, before Zora pulls the phone away.

“Every time he smiles at me, I die a little.”

“Oh, girl. I bet!”

“So when do we get to meet him?”

“Uh… I need a little more time, but he's fond of you both, already.”

“Oh, we've been talked about??”

“Yes, I was telling him about my sarcasm gene and how it's one of a kind and that you two can attest, cause y'all are y'all, and I am me.”

Like clockwork, their eye rolls sync up and the bickering starts, making her chuckle.

“Here she goes!”

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“So, you got yourself a boo, huh?” Eryn asks Leon, handing him a bottle of water.

“What??” Their cousin, Damon, asked. “Leon got a boo??”

He chuckles with a shake of his head. “Yeah, man. Why is that so hard to believe?”

“It's not, don't take it like that. You just haven't had a girlfriend since Candy’s wild ass. I'm just a little shocked.”

“Yeah, well it's definitely not another one of those situations so I think I'll be okay, this time around.” He snorts, making them both join in.

“She was a mess, I tried to tell you.”

“He ain't heard nothing once he saw that ass on girly.” Eryn shakes her head.

“Anyway, y'all third degree over?”

“Just getting started, actually. Where'd you meet her?”

“At the flower shoppe. She could be a botanist if she really wanted to be. Naming flowers without so much as a glance in their direction, like she's mapped the whole place a dozen times.” Leon rambles, making Eryn smile.

“What a hobby! I love flowers!”

“You two will get acquainted, don't you worry,” he laughs.

“Okay! What does she look like?”

“She's about your height, curvy as all hell, mocha kisses skin– good lord, she is beautiful.” He stops himself, knowing he'd go on and on about her.

“What's her name?”

“Zora.”

“Wow, that's such a pretty name.”

“It matches her perfectly.”

“You in love, my guy?” Damon asks.

“No,” he shakes his head. “I really like her, though.”

“Does she really like you back?”

“Yeah, she does.” He smiles. “We've progressed a lot over the last couple weeks.”

“Aw, he's learning that these things do take time!” She claps, kissing her hand up to the ceiling.

“You are something else, Ryn.” He laughs.

“I'm just sayin’,”

“You're always just sayin’ something.” Damon interjects, catching an apple to the head.

“Ow!”

“Yeah, shut up.” She cuts her eyes at him, before turning back to her brother. “I'm just sayin’, maybe don't rush through, this time around. The way you light up when you talk about her, makes me think she's something seriously special, so treat her that way.”

“Precious cargo, I am. She's been teaching me about patience, just like you always do. I hear you, I promise.” He assures her, putting her at ease.

“Good. So have you kissed her, yet?”

“Yeah, I couldn't help myself.” He sighs, making them laugh.

“Aw, how sweet!”

“It was sweet, man! I felt like I kissed an angel.”

“Oh! And where have you and this angel gone, date wise? Yes, I'm being super nosy.”

“I've taken her all over. We went back to the flower shoppe, I took her her to What The Fries, cause she's never been and surprisingly she'd always wanted to go, so that was an extra pat on the back for me,” he smiles, nudging arms with Damon, “we've gone on several picnics, cause she's a nature girl and I'm all for sitting in some grass.”

“Country ass.” Damon snorts.

“Boy, fuck you.” He jabs with a laugh of his own.

“Have you taken her dancing?”

“That might be the only thing we haven't done— well, if dancing in her living room counts, then we've danced a couple dances.”

“Well, we’ll count those but you should take her to that place I was telling you about!” She snaps her fingers, trying to remember the name of the place.

“Flavor?” Damon asks.

“Flavor! Yes, everybody be down there!” Eryn claps, making them both laugh.

“Okay, okay. Next date, we’ll go dancing.”

“Ugh, take pictures or something!”

“Oh, you wanna see her? I've got pictures.” He says, pulling his phone from his pocket.

“If I smack him.” She stares at Damon, who just shakes his head.

“Leave me alone, y'all. I don't be thinking, sometimes.”

“We know.”

He slides the phone in her direction, telling her to swipe from the left.

“Wow, she's absolutely gorgeous! Ugh, I love her hair!” She squeals, swiping through to see a couple of her and Leon together, cheesing wide.

“Aw, you two look really good together!” She squeals, passing the phone to Damon.

“Thank you.” He smiles.

“Damn! She's breathtaking, my brotha.”

“You don't know the half, man.” He shakes his head with his eyes closed.

“Okay, I gotta know how you rolled up on shorty, cause she looks like she plays no games.”

“She don't. She actually fried my ass up a lil when I was talking to her, but ol Leon don't back down. Mama ain't raise no quitter.”

“Mhm, so what you say that made her feel different about you?”

“I'm an honest man and she appreciated that. Told her I wasn't on funny business and I wanted to take her out, and she let me know up front how things were gonna go. I listen, unlike some men.” He sideyes Damon.

“Don't start on me, man. What Keisha tell you??”

“Nothing. But you about to spill everything!”

✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿

Zora was currently sitting in front of a blank canvas, when her phone started ringing.

A facetime call from Leon. She smiles and answers.

“Hey, beautiful.”

“Handsome. Wassup?”

“I was calling to beg for another date with you.” He says, making her laugh.

“Begging? I'm not that bad, am I?”

He smiles, shaking his head. “Nah, you're not bad. But I would love to take you dancing.”

“Aw, you tired of dancin’ in my living room?” She teases.

“Never that! I just feel like we might need more room to show off our moves, ya know?”

“Yeah, I hear ya. So where are we going?”

“There's this place called Flavor, my sister recommended it. She also told me to tell you hello, and that she thinks you're absolutely gorgeous.”

“Aw, she's too sweet! Tell her I said hello and thanks! And Flavor sounds fun, I'm down!”

“Great, are you off next weekend?”

“I am! I took Saturday off, cause ya girl be tired.”

“Well good, sleep til you can't no more and then we'll dance the rest of the day away. Sound like a plan?”

“Of course it does!” She agrees with a smile that matches his own.

Their playful banter continued on for about ten minutes, and then his mama called, making them reluctantly hang up.

“How's my boy?”

“Always good. How's my favorite lady?”

“Well I talked to Eryn and it seems like you've got yourself a girlfriend. Am I hearing that correctly?”

“Well, she's not my girlfriend, but we're working our way there.”

“Oh, okay! So tell me about her.”

He easily goes into his spiel about Zora, how beautiful, funny and intelligent she is. How her fire is his favorite attribute of hers.

“Sounds like your aunt Moonie.”

“I said the same thing, ma. I swear!” He exclaims, making her laugh.

“A spitfire, huh?”

“Yeah, she's not psycho or anything though. She's a sweetheart.”

“Well, when do we get to meet her?”

“I need a little more time.”

“No worries, son. But do make it before I gray all the way over,” she jokes.

Flashback.

Zora is at her easel like usual, painting away. Music blasting in her ears as she's in her zone.

It’d been a long day and she needed to destress in the ways she knew best.

And everything was going great, until he showed up.

Turning this light on, knocking this over, stepping over her materials that weren't even in his line of sight, just because.

“What you in here in the dark for?” He asks, but she can't hear him due to her headphones, which she points to.

“Take ‘em off your ear for a sec,” he says, before reaching and doing in himself. She snatches ‘em back before he removes them altogether.

“Yes, what do you need?” She asks.

“Wassup? Why you in the dark?”

“It's been a long day and I just needed to come home and sit and paint. My head hurts so I kept the extra light off. Could you turn it back off?”

“Nah.”

“Fine, I'll do it myself.” She gets up and cuts it right back off, beginning to move back to her easel when he steps in front of it, staring at the painting.

“What is this, Z?”

“Flowers, J.”

“They're ugly.” He snorts, looking over at her defeated expression.

“Thanks. I really appreciate that.” She responds, way too beaten down to argue with him.

“I'm just sayin’, maybe you need a new hobby or sumn.” He continues, making her brows scrunch together.

“Excuse me?”

“This shit blows. I'm tryna help you out, here.”

“You wanna help me by insulting me?”

“Constructive criticism, ain't that what they called it at that fancy ass school you went to?”

“You're just being rude, that's all you're doing right now.” She says, pulling the canvas away before he gets any ideas.

“Well shit, somebody had to tell you. Your mama loves everything you do and so do them sisters of yours. But I gotta be the voice of reason–”

“Oh my god, voice of reason?! Who asked you to do that?? Who asked you to be that?? I had the worst day at work and you're in here tearing me further apart over some fucking flowers? You can't even draw a stick figure and you're giving me advice?! Please get out.”

“Look Zora. Whether you like it or not, your shit is not good. I hate to be the one to break it to you.”

“I think you love to break shit to me. Makes you feel like a man or something, like you can't be a man in other ways— important ways. You'd rather go toe to toe with me, than listen to anything i'm actually saying.”

“I don't have time for this.” He says, making her sigh so heavily.

“Of course you don't. Why not just leave?” This is my apartment. Just go.”

“Fine. If I leave, I won't be back.” Is something he'd always say, but he always came crawling back to her with an apology and like the sad girl she was, she'd always take ‘em back.

Maybe this time would be different.

Who knew it would take another six months before she was finally done with his verbal abuse, lack of communication, concern and care.. amongst other things.

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Putting the finishing touches on her outfit, she steps back in front of Nique, doing her little twirl as she claps and whistles.

“Damn, girl. You look so good!”

“Thank you! I spent two days searching up and down prettylittlething.com and this little baby popped up, I almost— I screamed. I won't lie.” She squeals, twirling around in the hot orange number.

“I bet you did,” she laughs. “I love how you've got your hair, too!”

A half up, half down style worked beautifully with her curls as they bounced above her shoulders.

“Thanks! The hair goddesses were on my side, yet again!” She kisses up to god, before spraying her bergamot and vanilla perfume again.

“You don't think that's enough?”

“Can you smell it??”

“Yes! Put it away, before you start a fire!” She half jokes.

“Jesus,” Zora huffs, placing the bottle back on her dresser just as the doorbell rings.

If it weren't for the deep slit in her dress, she woulda been able to fake out the tremble in her knees.

“Sis, are you nervous?” She asks, totally surprised.

“I— I just might be!” She laughs, as they head down the hall towards her door.

Blowing out a breath, she opens the doors and the air is knocked right back out of her lungs, and she isn't alone as he takes a moment of his own to drool at the sight before him.

“Hi,” she greets, kicking one leg in front of the other.

“Hey,” he greets back, taking her hand into his to kiss the back, making her blush.

“You look amazing,” comes from them both, making them laugh at each other and Nique clears her throat.

“Leon, this is my dearest, bestest friend Nique. Nique, this is the infamous Leon.” She introduces, watching them shake hands.

“You're much taller than I thought,” she blurts, making Zora shake her head.

“I get that a lot,” he chuckles. “It's nice to finally meet you.”

“Likewise! It's about time we crossed paths. Now tell me, how much trouble has she gotten you into so far?”

“Oh, we're about waist deep, right Zora?”

“We’ll be up to our necks, after tonight.” She winks.

“Oop— well, let me get on outta here and let y'all get y'all's night started! I hope it's wonderful.”

“Thank you,” Zora says, hugging Nique before she opens the door back up. “I'll call you tomorrow.”

“You better,” she whispers, waving at Leon, “it was nice meeting you. Treat my girl great!”

“Of course, it was nice meeting you too.” He responds, before she leaves.

“You look absolutely stunning, mama.” He compliments, twirling her around as the frills on her dress flow about.

“Thank you, handsome. You look really good, yourself. I like this shirt.”

“Thank you. My sister helped me pick it out.”

“She did a good job!”

“I'll be sure to tell her so she can gloat about it,” he chuckles. “You ready to dance the night away?”

“Absolutely.”

✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿

Out of all of my options, you'll be the top one

Baby, you got one-up

Get me high, get me louder

Damn, all that power I want you much too much

That sure do get me high

To God, oh, what I'm feeling

Well, you decide

'Cause, baby, all summer

They been all on my heels

I just need to know that if I pull up, you gon' be there 'cause you talkin' real, real And I don't wanna wonder

If you doin' side deals

I don't trust nobody, but that body keep on callin' me

(It got me roaming through these empty streets)

Thinkin' you ready for love

A strong hand at her back and a dainty one on his shoulder with their other hands clasped together, the two glide across the floor with ease, earning a few whistles from other couples.

“See, you're a natural!” Zora teases Leon, who swears he has two left feet.

“I'm only this good when I'm dancin’ with you,” he chuckles. “You know I got two wrong feet.”

“Lord,” she rolls her eyes as he twirls her once more, pulling her back to him.

“That your favorite move?” She asks, losing her breath from being so close to him.

“Mmhm,” he pecks her lips, starting a wildfire across her cheeks while they continue to sway.

“How's the last couple days been?” She asks, staring up at him.

“Hectic.” He huffs. “I got into it with one of my boys at work, which pissed me off cause he's usually pretty chill.”

She frowns. “It made it awkward, huh?”

“For him. I get my work done, regardless. It just slows us down cause now he acts like I gotta go through somebody else to give him information, and I'm not doing that.” He shakes his head, moving his other hand to her back now.

“Don't let ‘em push your buttons. I hate when people act like they're too important or butthurt to be bothered. It always boils over to them just being a jackass.”

“You're right,” he nods, laughing as she shoots him a look that screams “I know!”.

“What about you? I know you were a little more tired than usual.”

“Oh yeah, it gets super busy at the restaurant and those customers just lose their minds from time to time.. to time.” She sighs with a laugh. “It just took a little more outta me than I expected. But I'm okay!”

“Yeah? You sure?” He asks.

“Yeah, if I fall asleep on you, just splash some water on me,” she shrugs, instantly cracking up at his expression. 

“I'm joking, Leon!”

“I'm not too sure,” he squints. “Splash some water on you. We'd get you tucked in, before that happens.”

“Aw, ever the gentleman.”

“You know I do my best for you,” he humbly responds, making himself even cuter to her.

“Can I tell you something?” She asks, knowing she should hold her tongue.

“Of course.”

“I like you, Leon.”

He flashes that beautiful smile, and thank god he was holding onto her so tight or she surely woulda hit the floor.

“I like you too, Zora.”

The butterflies in her belly do a dance similar to the two-step she and Leon are doing, making her feel fuzzy and warm.

Unfortunately her pretty mules turned on her about an hour ago, forcing them to move from the dance floor, to a tiny rounded booth off to the left side of the place.

Were her feet pulled into his lap, while she sipped her margarita and danced in her seat to the music? Yes.

Was she enjoying every minute? Absolutely.

“So I feel compelled to tell you a little story.” She starts, and he's all ears.

“You know I'm listening,” he smiles.

“I know,” she smiles back. “It's not a nice story, but I won't get too sad on you.”

“Oh, is this about your ex?”

“Yeah, that rotten bastard.” She sneers, making him snicker.

“Seriously! He was a hater. He'd come home just to piss me off, I swear. Never a good full day, ever. Never any concern above his own. And it wasn't always like that, ya know? It's like he woke up one day and just started hating me.”

His brows furrow. “Who could hate you?”

“Ya know, I would ask myself what I did. Hell, I even asked him and he'd always tell me that I was trippin. Thinking too much into him dashing away my dreams, leaving more on my plate than not, shutting me out. You name it.”

“You're right, he was a hater.” He frowns. “Who the hell does that someone they care about?”

“I tried so hard to figure that out, that I made myself sick over it and him. I mean, imagine just graduating from college, working at a rundown job and your boyfriend comes home just to tell you that you should find a new hobby, a new lifestyle and a little bit more money because he wasn't gonna sit around and wait for a miracle to happen. Said he was my voice of reason.”

“Sounds like he needed an ass kick off that high horse he was on.” Leon says, shaking his head.

“Ugh! I can't tell you how many times I told him that. But, it never mattered what I said, cause he never listened. Plus, I'd take him back every time he'd crawl back to me.” She sighs.

“Don't beat yourself up about that, Zora. You just wanted him to do better. We all hit the wall, sometimes. You realized at some point that he wasn't gonna change and you left, yeah?”

“Yeah. It might've taken me a minute, but I did leave his ass alone. After I beat it.” She laughs, making him join in.

“I'm sure that was hilarious!”

“Nique has the video if you ever wanna see it.” She adds, going back to sipping on the fruity drink.

“Definitely taking you up on that.” He nods, reaching out to twirl a curl around his finger.

“I'm glad you shared with me. I won't be a bad story to add to your collection, I promise.” He says, making her smile.

“I'm starting to believe that. I really am.”

“Good.”

✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿

Carrying Zora all the way inside her apartment, he closes and locks her door behind them and sits her on the sofa.

“Thank you,” she sighs, sliding her feet out of her mules and rubbing her feet over her plush rug. “I hope I wasn't too heavy.”

“Light as a feather, baby.” He assures, kneeling down beside the couch to be level with her.

“Baby, huh? That's me?” She asks.

“If you wanna be.”

“Oh, I wanna be.” She replies, making them both laugh.

“Good. Cause I wanna be yours, too.”

Moving from his kneeled position, he sits beside her on the couch, reaching for her hand to pull her closer to him.

“I had fun, like always.” She smiles, kissing him again.

“Me too, like always.” He replies, returning the gesture.

“So, where we goin’ next, handsome?”

“Still on the fence about meeting my people?” He asks.

“No, not anymore. I'd love to meet ‘em.”

“Great,” he smiles, linking their fingers. “Cause I gotta meet these sisters of yours. Mama, too.”

Ch 6

@sheabuttahwrites @thegifstories @blackerthings @blackpinup22 @twistedcharismaaa @abeautifulmindexposed @nayaxwrites @cecereads209 @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @ghostfacekill-monger @blowmymbackout @chaneajoyyy @awerkofart

#mochaff #miyuhpapayuh #zora x leon #poc writers #blackwriters #black romance #yahya abdul mateen ii fan fic #Spotify

[megamindsecretlair]

Runaway Lover, Part 2

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

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

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

Word Count: 6,067k

Part 1

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, dear,” he said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Stunna: Please, talk to me.

Stunna: Please

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

God took his time with this one. 

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

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

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

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

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

“I was hoping you’d come.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nope,” you said, emphasizing the P. 

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

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

“Don’t tell you the truth?” He asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Now, he was real and in your face. Now, he was close enough to reach out and grab. An ache thumped in your chest and you stood up. If you didn’t get up and leave right now, you were going to break down in his new apartment and no man needed to see that. 

You stood and stepped away from his couch, already feeling the numbness creep back in. The hopelessness that the next four months would drag on and on. You made it halfway to the door before Stunna called your name.

You turned towards him just as he was crashing his lips to yours. You hadn’t heard him cross the distance, but with his long ass legs it probably only took him two steps to reach you. He grabbed the sides of your head and tilted your head so that he could kiss you deeper. 

The strength of his kiss undid you. You melted instantly into his arms, kissing him back with as much desperation. He backed you up until your back hit the wall and he pressed you into it, rubbing his erection into your lower belly. 

You had a taste of that so you knew how good it felt. How well he maneuvered it to bring you the most utmost pleasure. You gripped onto his shoulders and held him closer to you while you kissed and explored each other’s mouths.

His warm lips were heaven against yours. Tongue playing with yours. You never wanted it to end. Just kissing him got your panties damp, arousal starting to leak out of you. Sweat gathered between your thighs and you rubbed them together, needing more friction than that.

Stunna broke the kiss, giving you some much needed oxygen. It brought a little clarity. “Stunna, we can’t–” 

Stunna kissed you again, cutting off your complaints. “We need a proper goodbye right?” 

“We had one yesterday,” you pointed out. 

“Naw, this is a real one. Please. I can’t let you walk away for four months without something to hold me over,” he said. 

“You so nasty,” you said and grinned. 

He looked into your eyes and grinned. His smile would always slay you. It was so open and joyous. Straight teeth. Perfect teeth. Perfect smile. Perfect man. 

“Hm, I seem to recall a bad little girl letting strangers play with her pussy,” he said. He smacked your lips with his, once and then twice. He kissed along your jaw and then started kissing your neck. “You can’t wear a dress like this and not expect me to lose my mind.” 

“I didn’t know what to wear!” You said. 

His hands moved from your head down your sides and then gripped your ass under your dress. He moaned, clenching and unclenching your ass cheeks with a low growl. 

“Do me a favor and don’t wear dresses for the next four months. I won’t be able to handle it,” he said. 

You made a strangled noise in the back of your throat. He wouldn’t be able to handle it? “Then you have to come to work looking like a bum, because that’s not fair,” you said. He got to look like an Adonis while you had to dress like a nun? How was that fair?

He squeezed your ass and you moaned, back bowing off of the wall. “Take these panties off for me,” he said. 

Your hands flew to your panties before your mind caught up. You hesitated briefly. Stunna stilled against you, likely giving you a chance to step away. Fuck it. You needed a proper goodbye. You needed something to hold you over as well. Something to get you through these next four months.

You got rid of your panties and he helped you take off your shoes and then your panties. He grinned, lips returning to yours. You moaned, feverish for his kisses. Stunna hissed knelt down in front of you.

He gathered up your dress and pooled it around your hips and fisted it in one hand. He spread your pussy lips with his free hand and delved into your pussy with his tongue. 

“Oh shit!” You moaned. You lifted one leg to give him better access. He growled his appreciation and moved his long tongue towards your dripping entrance. He pumped his tongue in and out of you and your eyes rolled back.

“OH fuck!” You screamed. Your hands dug into his small afro and pulled whatever you could get your hands on. His mouth felt amazing on your pussy. His nose tickled your clit and you felt it in your belly. You huffed and moaned, thighs shaking. 

He moved his tongue to your clit and flicked it back and forth with a speed you didn’t know he possessed. Your whines turned to desperate cries as you began to shake in earnest, screaming out an orgasm. 

Stunna rolled his whole head, slurping up your juices. He moaned into your pussy. He smacked your ass as you twitched above him. You looked down and caught his eyes at the same time. You almost came again. Locking eyes with him brought a level of intensity to the moment that you couldn’t describe. He made you feel like you were a giant. Or sitting on top of the world. 

When he was done with you, he slowly withdrew. There was a spit chain between his lips and your pussy. He grinned, watching it expand. He finally licked his lips and broke it. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and stood up. 

“Taste even better than I remember. Should’ve seen the nut I busted in the shower this morning,” he said.

Your head dropped forward against his chest. “Fuck, don’t tell me that,” you said.

His rumbling chuckle vibrated against your cheek. You lifted your head and moved your hand beneath his sweats. He went commando underneath and you lifted an eyebrow at him. He grinned as your hand wrapped around his dick. You stroked him slowly because you didn’t have enough lubrication to get him going.

“Was gripping my meat and stroking, thinkin’ ‘bout you. About the sounds you made. The way you fit me so well,” he said. As he spoke, his tone went lower. He leaned forward and kissed you. 

He moved his hips and your hand slipped out. You looked at him with the question in your eyes. He grabbed your hips and turned you around. “As much as I would love those lips on me, I’ve been dying to get back in this pussy,” he said. 

He tugged the top of your dress until it came down and trapped your arms to your sides. He pushed you against the wall. The cold hit your nipples and you cried out. He scooted in closer and you felt him tug his sweats down. 

He lifted your left leg, slapping his meat against your pussy. The wet smacks were filthy. You moaned and he ran his dick in between your folds, getting the tip wet.

The tip of his dick pushed at your entrance and you moaned. He slid in, inch by inch, savoring the feeling of getting filled up by him. You were a huffing, panting mess by the time he bottomed out. He kissed your neck where it met your shoulder and you moaned. 

“Fuck,” he whispered.

Exactly your sentiments. You fit. You were a perfect match. He filled you up, just this side of incredibly full, and you closed your eyes to the sensation. To the feeling. He pinned you to the wall and began to move slowly, sliding in and out of you.

“Shit,” he moaned. 

“You feel so good, baby,” you moaned. 

“I feel good? You feel like home,” he said. He continued to kiss your neck, nibbling a bit, as his strokes increased. 

Your hands were on the wall, trying to anchor yourself against him. His strokes increased until he was rutting inside of you. Each thrust drew a ragged moan from your lips. He moved to a different angle and touched your sweet spot. You cried out, shaking desperately on his dick.

“There’s my fucking spot,” he said. He grinned against your skin. Your head flopped to the side. You bit your arm. He felt too good. Slipping in and out of you. The wet smacks of your combined juices were lewd and turned you on more. Made you drip more. 

“So fuckin’ wet, nasty girl. You like this dick, don’t you?”

“Uh-huh,” you moaned, nodding your head. 

“You like this dick inside you?” He asked.

“Uh-huh, so good,” you moaned. You drooled against your arm. 

“Let me hear you then,” he said. He moved his free hand down between your legs and began to stroke your clit in tandem with his thrusts. Your moans increased in volume, turning into screams as you crashed into another orgasm. 

Stunna kissed your cheek and jaw, licked the shell of your ear. “Sound so pretty when you cum. Music to my ears, baby,” he said. 

“Nut in me,” you moaned.

“What?” He asked. 

“Nut in me, please, I need it,” you moaned. 

Stunna growled and increased his thrusts. They turned into a brutal fucking, spearing you. He still played with your clit as he slammed into you, fucking you just how you liked. There was no begging. There was no negotiating. You didn’t have to stop in the middle to communicate that yes, it was okay to get rougher. It was okay to rock into your shit. 

Stunna just did it. He gave you exactly what you needed. 

“You want this nut?” He asked.

“Yessss,” you moaned. 

“Fuck, I’m so close,” he said.

“Stunna, ouuee Stunna,” you moaned in between his strokes.

“That’s right, you let me know who owns this pussy,” he said. 

“You. You own this pussy,” you moaned. He groaned before you finished your sentence. He nutted, his hot cum filling you to the brim. Some of it even slipped out and ran down your thigh. You shivered, your head turning fuzzy at the sensation. 

Stunna finally stilled his strokes and let his dick pulse. You hissed feeling it. Stunna dropped your thigh and grabbed your neck. He pulled you back into him and you turned your head so that you could kiss him. The kiss was sloppy and you both panted, breath fanning across each other’s faces. But any touch of his lips was worth it.

Stunna kissed your cheek. “I still got some more for you,” he said.

“More?” You asked.

Stunna slipped out of you and then roughly turned you around. He kissed you, pressing you back against the wall with the force of his kisses. He kissed down your body, rolling his tongue around both of your nipples. You cried out. 

He tugged you by the front of your dress towards the arm of his couch. He bent you over it and spread your ass cheeks. He moaned and smacked your ass. 

“Fuck, I need all night with you to say goodbye,” he said. 

You were too blissed out to chuckle. Or laugh. Your head was floating, flying; your mind went on a little trip and you had no plans of returning. 

He slipped back inside and you shared a moan, feeling complete once more. He immediately went back to pounding and rutting, slamming his thighs against your ass with the force of his strokes. 

“Who own this shit?” He asked.

“Youuu,” you moaned.

“Own the fuck outta this pussy. Feelin’ so good, pussy feelin’ so good. It’s mine now,” he groaned in between thrusts. The arm of the couch dug into your gut and it felt good. You felt just as you did on Saturday night. Possessed. Owned. 

“It’s yours!” You moaned. “It’s yours, Stunna!” 

“Damn right. Gonna write my initials in this pussy,” he groaned. His fingers turned bruising on your hips. 

His initials were already there. It felt like with every stroke, he was stitching your souls together. You became one soul every time his tip kissed your cervix. “Oh fuck, fuck, fuck,” you moaned on each thrust.

His fingers moved to your clit again, flicking his fingers against it. You tried to lean up. You didn’t know why, only that you needed to move. To ease up a bit. He pressed on your back and made you take his dick. Made you take the brutal pounding. 

“Guhh,” you moaned and came with a loud cry. Your pussy gripped onto him and he moaned, thrusts turning sloppy and twitching. He came right after you, giving you another round of his cum. He soaked your pussy and you shivered, full body shaking.

Stunna slammed once more into you and then stilled, dick pulsing. His cum slipped down your thighs again. You were deliciously sore. You both panted in the quiet space. You listened to any sound he made. Greedy to capture everything. If this was goodbye, you were hesitant to see what hello looked like. 

Stunna slowly slipped out of you. You cried out. 

“Shh, shh, you know I got you, baby,” he said. When he was out, you were still sore as hell. You began to shake as the cold crept in. Something so powerful took a lot of energy. You weren’t just imagining things on Saturday. It wasn’t the anonymity of the vacation. You two shared a real connection. The kind love songs and poems were written about. And it was scary as hell. 

Stunna returned with a warm washcloth. You cried out, leaning up against the couch. Stunna cooed and talked softly. “I got you. I’m right here,” he said. He finished and wiped up your thighs as well.

When finished, he disappeared with the washcloth and then came back. He helped you stand and adjusted the dress back to where it should be. Then he moved towards the couch and had you straddle him. He held you and rubbed your back as you scooted into him and laid your head on his shoulder.

You didn’t speak. There was nothing to say. You had to find the strength to walk away from this in the morning. You weren’t going to fight it. You needed this goodbye as much as he did. You needed to get your mind wrapped around the fact that you couldn’t have this for months. 

It wasn’t the end of the world but it sure as shit felt like it. You were tired of being strong. But for now, you’d have to endure. It was the only way to get the best of both worlds. 

You listened to the cadence of his breathing. Warm chest. Strong arms around your back. “It’s not forever,” he said quietly.

No, it wasn’t forever.

D'awww, if you need more, you know I got you!

The Secret Big Stunna Files | Part 1

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

[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

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

[megamindsecretlair]

What You Deserve, Part 1

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

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. Toxic filth. Infidelity. PWP, cursing, PIV, oral (female receiving) teasing/mocking, cum play, dirty talk, praise kink, Daddy kink, all consensual.

Summary: While out running errands for your family, sweet and handsome Stunna helps put the groceries in your car. A naughty, run-away thought leads you to invite him back to your house to thank him properly.

Word Count: 6,984k

Part 2

A/N: The brainrot is REAL. This is a hot ask from @planetblaque Everybody say thank you for this toxic hot fic! Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! And please put ages in bios! Or get blockt!

Taglist: @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

You walked down the grocery store aisle and the squeaky wheel on the cart was driving you nuts. You managed to get a lot on the list but you were still looking around for rice. You sighed. You hated when the store rearranged shit for no reason. How hard was it to keep things in the same place? 

You turned down the rice aisle and noticed a tall man wearing a black and white flannel shirt, dark jeans, and boots. Damn, he looked really good standing there picking out taco packets. You looked down at your wedding ring and curled your lip in disgust. 

Your husband would never be caught dead in the grocery store. And if he did, he’d only call you every two seconds because he didn’t pay attention to shit. He was a big picture man, staring ahead years into the future and what he needed to do to provide for the family.

Provide. That’s all he knew how to do. Your husband wasn’t a bad man…he was oblivious in a way that should have been a warning bell before you got married. As such, you were five years into the marriage with perfect five year old twins. When they weren’t being little demons.

You looked back towards the man and he was looking between two items, looking at the ingredients. You got a nice look at the length of his neck, his beard, and a cute little mumble he did while he debated. 

You shouldn’t be checking out another man but well, you weren’t dead. You saw something pretty, you were going to look at it. And in this case, the man was too pretty for words. Or maybe it was your libido talking. After the kids, your husband paid less attention to that aspect of the marriage, forcing you into a life of celibacy. 

Every blue moon, he’d look at you with something that could be called interest and then he’d get you just wet enough to get inside you. He’d get off, ask if you did, and then pass out in front of the TV. You started lying that you did just to get him out of the room. Who the hell wanted to be with someone that made sex feel like a chore? 

You picked up a small packet of rice and then thought about it. The bigger packet was more expensive but it’d last longer. And with the way your son, Noah, ate he’d eat you out of house and home by the time he’s a teenager. You picked up the bigger packet and scooted off down the aisle. 

You passed by the man. He looked up and gave you a double take, smiling as you passed showing off grills. You may have swayed your hips a little too hard as you turned the corner. Though, who were you fooling? 

While the kids were at school and your husband was at work, you barely put any effort into how you looked. You were a married stay at home mom and that meant lounge pants and a T-shirt were your best friend. Sometimes you even matched. You had joined the invisible legion of women whose world stopped as you took care of your family. You were happy to do so, but it was times like these that made you feel like you lost that spark. That sense of identity outside of your family. 

As you went down other aisles, somehow you managed to end up in the same ones with Mr. Sexy. It got to the point where’d notice first and smile at you. You smiled shyly back but avoided getting too close. He didn’t need any encouragement from you. If you were single though…

You sighed and made your way to the checkout lane. It was still early and there weren't a lot of people in the store. You checked out and pushed the cart to your truck, popping the trunk and starting to lift the bags inside.

“Excuse me! Miss!” A deep voice made you turn to the sound and there was Mr. Sexy waving over to you. 

“Yes?” You asked.

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to help with your bags,” he said when he got closer to your truck. 

“Oh, that’s sweet but not necessary,” you said. 

“Please. My mama would turn in her grave if she knew I didn’t help a beautiful woman like you,” he said. 

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help a small smile. “Thank you, that’s very kind of you.” 

The small act of help touched you in ways that you weren’t expecting. As he lifted bags out of the cart, your eyes grew a little teary. When was the last time your own husband helped with groceries? 

“You look like you feeding an army here,” the man said.

You giggled. Well, he was bound to find out. “Ah, yeah. My husband and kids can eat a lot,” you said.

You watched his face to see what the news would do to him. Whether he was sad or disappointed that you were off the market. He only nodded. “Must be some slammin’ food if they eatin’ it like that,” he said. 

“I can throw down in the kitchen,” you bragged, preening a bit that you could do so. 

“Oh yeah? What you be makin’? And just know I’m already judging,” he said. He heaved bag after bag into your trunk and it made you a little sad thinking of bringing all that shit in the house by yourself. 

“Meatloaf, roast beef stew, enchiladas. In fact, I’m making that tonight,” you said. 

“Oh word? I be cookin’ sometimes too,” he said and then grinned like he was remembering a funny joke. “Enchiladas sound good as hell right now, too.” 

A naughty thought entered your mind. It was too brief and quick and you instantly kicked it to the back, hiding it in a tiny box and stepping on it. “You making anything special for your girl?” You asked.

He finished with the bags and then closed the trunk for you. “Naw, ain’t got a girl,” he said. He grinned at you. That smile could melt ice. You felt your pussy throb and your eyes widened. You about thought the damn thing was broken. 

“It’s just you?” You asked.

“Just me, unfortunately. But that’s alright. For now, I get to make whatever the hell I want and enjoy it,” he said. 

“Must be nice. My family loves my shit, but it’s not like they have an alternative,” you said and giggled. 

“Shame. I bet it’s delicious,” he said. Was he…flirting with you? Even knowing you had a family? 

“Thanks. I should probably get this home and start cooking. Thank you for helping me,” you said. 

He reached out his hand and you looked at it. Somehow, even shaking his hand felt naughty. Like he was going to see all the nasty things running through your mind. Thoughts of riding his thigh until you got off. Soaking his dick while he slammed inside of you. The thoughts were so vivid to you, you were worried that he’d read it all over your face. 

Another advantage to getting the house to yourself in the daytime was that you had plenty of toys to get the job done in peace. One thought about his face and you were sure you’d beat your personal record. 

You shook his hand so you weren’t rude and he held on. “I’m Stunna,” he said. He brought your hand to his lips and pressed a soft kiss there. The back of your hand tingled and it moved all throughout your body until you were throbbing once more. Twice in a short amount of time? Calm down, girl. It wasn’t like you could do something with this man. 

You told him your name. “Would you mind if I gave you my number? If you’re out shopping, I can help you again,” he said.

You giggled. “You would come all the way to the store just to help me load groceries into my car?” 

“I’d unload them too if you let me,” he said. He was serious, not an ounce of humor on his face.

“You know I’m married, right? Like I didn’t bury that anywhere,” you said.

He laughed. “I heard that part, but I also don’t see the mu’fucka. Anyone letting you out of his sight must be ten kinds of stupid,” he said. He looked you over, making a show of turning his head one way and then another.

You laughed but didn’t let go of his hand. Found that you didn’t want to. Found that you were touch starved as hell and it was damn nice touching someone that looked as good as he did. “What, my husband supposed to have me on a leash?” You asked.

“Sheit, I would,” he said. “Yo sexy ass wouldn’t be able to breathe without me.”

“You better stop!” You said. Oh god, your cheeks were burning like hell and the whole thing was cute and weird and embarrassing. You did not get giggly because one man paid you a compliment. 

He wasn’t the first one to do so. Even though your husband was buried with work, he still called you beautiful. Raggedy men still tried to holler at you while you pumped gas and ran errands. None were so bold as Stunna though. There was something about that level of confidence that had you squeezing your thighs together. 

“Do you really want me to stop?” Stunna asked. 

No. Not even a little bit. But you couldn’t say that. “You probably should. Gonna get us both in trouble,” you said. 

“I don’t mind a little trouble. You never answered me about giving you my number. I was serious,” he said. “I don’t want anything in return, if that’s what you’re worried about. I’d just like to see you again. Your husband don’t let you have friends?” He asked. 

You rolled your eyes playfully and finally dropped his hand. You were holding onto it entirely too long. “I can have friends,” you said. But you knew that he’d be anything but friendly. And why did that turn you on? 

“See, that’s that nigga’s first mistake. I wouldn’t let you have no friends neither,” he said. 

You laughed loudly and shook your head. “Life with you sounds restrictive as hell! What if I want alone time?” You asked.

“You could have all the alone time you want. At home,” he said. 

You couldn’t help laughing again, leaning against your truck as you pictured life with him. Life where he was clingy and wrapped entirely with you and never chose you over his work. The type of life you always dreamed about when you were younger and thought love meant candy hearts, roses, and bubbly champagne. 

“You have issues, sir,” you said. 

“That’s aight. You just look too damn good to go to the store by yourself or run errands. These belong on a honey-do list,” he said. 

You smiled. Your husband would break out in hives if you gave him a honey-do list that involved the grocery store or runs to the clothing store for your twins. Your kids were active in every sense of the word. You made it a point that they stay off screens as much as possible and get out into the big backyard your husband paid for. 

They found every mud patch, mudslide, and dusty hill to play on. When they came back in, they looked like swamp monsters. Your husband in the store trying to find good, cute outfits? Yeah right. 

“You are crazy. But I want to thank you. How does enchiladas sound?” You asked.

“Word? I get to try some?” He asked.

“If you’re serious about helping me unpack these groceries, then yeah. I think that’s worth a meal being cooked for you for once,” you said. Intrusive thoughts won for the day. You liked talking to him and you were worried that if you gave him your number, you’d chicken out. You’d reason and logic this away until you were even more depressed about the state of your marriage. 

It’d be nice to cook for someone who’d genuinely appreciate it. Rather than eating to live. Stunna seemed like the type that lived to eat and it was nice to find a kindred spirit. 

He grinned wider, showing up a neat row of white teeth and those grills. “I’d love to try your food,” he said. 

“Alright, follow me,” you said.

He walked you to the driver side of your car and held the door open for you while you climbed in. “See you soon,” he said and closed the door when you were safely inside. You put on your seatbelt and watched him return the cart to the proper place.

Your heart thundered in your chest as he made it to his own car. You started yours up and pulled out of the parking spot. A moment later, he was pulling up behind you. You drove home, heart in your throat. What the hell were you doing? 

Stunna was a stranger and you were just letting this man follow you home. You watched his car in your rear view mirror and wondered what he was like. So far, he had been nothing but cordial but a tad forward. You knew he valued his mom and was a gentleman, even though he had silly ideas about how he’d treat his woman. 

You remembered your single days. Grabbing enough food for yourself and eating lonely meal after lonely meal. Stunna didn’t seem like he was hurting for female company. It seemed like he was interested in yours and well, what the hell? You were grown, you could protect yourself. 

Besides, you just really, really wanted to keep talking to him. 

You pulled into your driveway and Stunna parked on the street. You were in the quiet suburbs where Black folks were just trying to get by. They had nice houses and decent jobs, but people were more interested in faking the funk than admitting that they were struggling. 

Your husband was smart with money so you weren’t hurting. But buying two of everything was expensive. It seemed like Noah was always playing right out of the shoes you bought him and Naomi just had to have the latest baby doll. 

Stunna joined you at your car and you unlocked it for him. He grabbed a handful in each hand and you were sorry he was wearing long-sleeves. You wanted to see his muscles work. You wanted to see his shirt off. 

For now, you would settle with just watching him be considerate. You let him into your home and he whistled. “Nice ass house,” he said.

“Thank you,” you said. You had it decorated to your specifications so it wasn’t stuffy and stiff. As if you lifted it from a magazine. Naw. Your house was lived in and full of love. 

You walked to the kitchen and showed him where to drop off the bags. “Naw, I wanna earn my meal. Point to where they go and I’ll do it,” he said. 

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

“I know. Let me help. Sit yo pretty ass down and get some water,” he said. 

“Fine,” you said with a grin. He grabbed the rest of the groceries from the car and closed your front door. You asked him to lock it. You may live in a nice neighborhood but that didn’t mean shit. Thieves would use any advantage to steal. Stunna could be a thief but he didn’t have to wait till he got here. Sure, he could steal the shit in your house but it was all insured. He’d have been better off stealing your wallet at the store. 

You told him which ingredients to leave out for the enchiladas while you grabbed two water bottles from the fridge. You downed at least half of it. Stunna made you feel like you were standing on top of a hot vent. 

He accepted his bottle and sat down at the bar stool, looking at you while you dug out pots and pans, cooking utensils, and your cutting board. 

You talked about light subjects like your family, friends, and what he does for a living. He was a bit cagey about that part, so you assumed it was something bad. You weren’t trying to be judgemental but you could not see his sexy ass saying, “Yes, Sir. No, Sir”, at an office job like your husband. 

You put the chicken on to boil and started prepping the veggies for the salad on the cutting board. Yes, he judged the hell out of how you sliced them. 

“I’m trying to make you a nice lunch,” you said.

“I know! I’m just saying, you could slice them faster and more evenly,” he said.

“You’re not supposed to help me with the meal too!” 

He chuckled. “I don’t mind. Can I show you?” He asked.

You gave him a playful look to know that you were mad at him but with no real heat. “Fine, since you know everything,” you said.

He got up from the stool and came around the kitchen island. He washed his hands in the sink and then took the knife from you. “Aight, so if you hold it like this and the tomato like this, boom,” he said. He focused on the task, blowing through the tomato like butter. 

“Wait, how’d you do that?” You asked. He chuckled and grabbed another one, going slower and showing you how to do what he did. He grabbed the last one and let you do it. You made one slice and he made a noise like a game buzzer.

“May I?” He asked. 

You really shouldn’t. But your head was nodding anyway. He stood behind you and you closed your eyes briefly. He was so strong and solid behind you. He leaned down so he could bring his hands on top of yours. He showed you how to hold the knife and tomato and how to make the same cuts he did. 

He helped you with the first few slices and then left you to make the next ones by yourself. He didn’t move from behind you as you moved through cutting it, chopping it up like a professional chef.

“I did it!” You said. You giggled and danced, shaking your ass on his crotch until you realized what you did and stopped.

“I am so sorry!” You said. You flipped around in his arms and he titled his head at you.

“I’m not,” he said with a slow grin. 

“Stunna, now you know…” 

“I know that you seem a little lonely. Forgive my bluntness, but shit, this whole house to yourself every day and all you do is cook and clean?”

“I take care of my family,” you said defensively. 

“I know. But who take care of you? Shit on the outside, it look like yo husband forgot what a baddie he got for a wife,” he said. “I wouldn’t ever forget.” 

He used his fingers to lift your chin up and forced you to look at him. “Stunna, I’m married,” you said. You said it like it was a piece of armor you drew around yourself. Those two words would stop even the most persistent of men. 

“Mhm, yet you here with me,” he said. 

“I got kids,” you said. 

“They little asses still in school, ain’t they? I’m great with kids,” he said. 

You giggled. “You are so bad.” 

He grinned, flashing you the grills. He was dangerous. Likely some type of criminal. A veritable hood rat that chased skirts and smoked all day. The complete opposite of your straight-laced husband who got pissy if his tie didn't match his shirt. 

“I can be worse,” he said. He put his hands on the countertop on either side of you. He placed a kiss against your neck, breathing in your scent. You wore your favorite lotion and were glad you did. 

“Let me be bad and take care of you for once,” he whispered against your skin. “Don’t you deserve it? Don’t you deserve to feel good?” He moved his lips to the other side of your neck. You leaned your head back, letting out a soft moan. 

If he kissed you, you’d cum on the spot. That’s how needy you were. How desperate and starved for affection. 

“Stunna, are you serious?” You asked.

“Hell yeah. See, the why I see it? This ain’t you, mama. You need some relief. I can be that,” he said.

“Even though…”

“Hear me when I say that I don’t give a flying fuck about your husband. I don’t give a shit that you’re a mom. I see a fine ass woman with a banging body that I wanna put on this table and taste her. Eat her for lunch,” he whispered in your ear. The force of his words were like tiny arrows shooting you with desire. 

You leaned back so that you could look him in the eyes. “Do it. I want that,” you said. 

Stunna turned and lowered the heat on the chicken. Then, he grabbed your hand and led you to the dining table. He intuitively moved to the head of the table. You went to loosen the tie at your waist, but he slapped your hand away.

He brought his lips to yours and you let him. You let him kiss you and opened your mouth to run your tongue against his. He moaned and kissed you deeper, rougher. He knew without you having to say what you needed. 

He pulled the tie at your waist, letting your lounge pants slip off of your hips and down to the floor. Shit! 

You pulled away from him and tried to hide your hideous granny panties. He pulled your hands away. “Think this scare me away?” He asked.

You nodded but you couldn’t look him in the eye. How the hell were you supposed to be sexy while wearing these atrocities? To be fair, you weren’t expecting sex today. Your husband was on a project that sucked up all of his time and attention. 

“Naw. Just makes you sexier to me. Move them hands,” he said.

You bit your lip and shook your head. There was no way you could continue after looking so gross.

Stunna leaned down and kissed your ear. “If I gotta move ‘em, you ain’t gon’ like it,” he said. 

Shit, that only turned you on. You lowered your hands and finally looked at him. “That’s right. Be a damn good girl for me and take them sexy panties off,” he said. 

Your fingers shook as you lowered your panties. Cool air brushed along your skin but did little to cool you off. There was a roaring fire of desire burning through your veins and you hadn’t even done anything. Hadn’t done more than kiss and take off your clothes. 

“Shirt too,” he said. He grabbed you by the waist and picked you up, sitting you down on the table. You yelped from the cold surface, making him grin. 

You plucked off the T-shirt. Your bra was just as plain and ratty. All the cute bra and panty sets in your drawer and this was what you wore when you finally got some. The situation would be funny if it weren’t so embarrassing. Stunna truly didn’t seem to mind as you took off your bra.

His eyes lit up as he looked at your titties. He sat down in your husband’s seat and palmed your breasts, running his fingers over your sensitive nipples. You moaned, arching your back so that he could get a better angle. 

He leaned forward and brought his lips to your left nipple, flicking his tongue over it. He latched on, suckling it into his mouth and you cried out from the pressure and bite of pain. Endorphins rushed through your system, making you squirm on the table. You were so wet. 

He massaged your titties as he suckled. He moved on to your right nipple, suckling on it and moaning as if he were getting pleasure from this too. It wasn’t a chore. He wanted to touch you, taste you. 

“Shit,” you moaned.

As he switched sides once more, he brought his hand down to cup your pussy. You jerked off of the table and he cooed. “Hmm, nice and creamy already. Love me a creamy girl. You got some more for me?” 

He slowly worked his fingers past your pussy lips. He gathered up your essence at your entrance and used it to circle and tease your clit. You brought one of your hands up to his shoulder to push at him. 

“What I tell you about them hands, gorgeous?” He asked.

“But…”

He bit your nipple and you cried out from the sting. “Uh-uh, do what Daddy tell you to.” 

Fuck. You came on his fingers already, thighs twitching and brain tingling. You moaned throughout it, that sweet relief everything you needed. Relief that didn’t come from your own two fingers or a sex toy was somehow more intense. More visceral. 

You bit your lip and looked at him. He watched you with a predatory gleam in his eyes. “Needed that shit, didn’t you?” He asked.

You didn’t trust your voice. You nodded shyly. Ugh! You hated this! You did not land your husband being this timid woman who was too afraid to even moan during sex. You enjoyed the hell out of it. You enjoyed the hell out of it with your husband. But once you got pregnant, he knew he needed to step up. Grinding for you became more important than grinding in you. 

A pang of shame hit you. You allowed another man to touch you. You swiftly kicked that bit of shame to the back of your mind. This wasn’t about emotions or starting anything. This was something nasty to get out of your system. The last hurrah you never got because you were pregnant when your husband proposed. You never got a wild bachelorette party with strippers and dick straws. 

“Spread them legs,” he commanded. 

You grinned slowly. You opened your legs and gave him a sultry look. The look of surprise on his face was priceless. You were just a little rusty. You knew how to throw down. 

“You so fuckin’ sexy. Spread open for me,” he said. He licked his fingers, licking away your arousal. He moaned and closed his eyes, savoring your taste. “Sweet, just like you.”

He grabbed your thighs and opened them wider. He rubbed his big nose in between your folds. His tongue lapped at your entrance. His moans got higher as he tasted you in earnest. 

“Oh shit! Oh fuck! Shit!” You moaned. His tongue felt like exactly how you pictured heaven. Eternal spring, warm sun, soft grass to sink your toes into. Your thighs pushed in ready to trap his face but his warm hands pushed them out. Pushed them away. Kept your legs open for him to lick and suck and tease your clit. 

He made out with your pussy. Licking you and then following behind by his lips to lap up whatever you leaked out. Your thighs quivered at the attention and care. At the total devotion to getting you off. You cried and whined until you were plunging head first into another orgasm. One that rocked you down to your core.

“Oue, shit,” you moaned. You looked down and he was still lapping at your juices. You glitched every time his tongue swiped your sensitive clit. He stopped and retreated from your pussy, a long spit chain still connecting you both. His beard was glistening with your arousal and you moaned, loving the picture before you. 

He licked his lips, breaking the chain. “Damn girl. Creamy as fuckin’ hell,” he said. 

You licked your own lips. Needing a double dose of him. You leaned forward and reached for his pants. He stopped you. “Use your words,” he said.

“I need you. I wanna taste you, too,” you said. 

He gripped your chin and brought you closer. And he wanted to kiss you after eating you out?! 

His lips were puckered and wet. His beard tickled your chin as he kissed you. This wasn’t just a kiss. It was like he wanted to share your essence with you. Like he wanted you to taste yourself on his tongue and get a glimpse of what he did when he was between your thighs. 

You did taste yourself and it was so damn hot. You smelled yourself all over him. His tongue explored your mouth. Your kisses were loud and sloppy. Lazy and slow, so at odds with how intense this man had been so far. 

Your hands pulled at his shirt, trying to unbutton his shirt or slip it over his head. You needed him naked too. You needed to see all of him. “There’s that little nasty freak. I knew she was in there,” he said against your lips.

“Pants. Off. Now,” you said. 

He chuckled. “Yes, ma’am,” he said. He made quick work of his pants dropping them down just enough to expose his long, thick dick. Veins stood out against the shaft and drool threatened to spill out of your mouth. 

You wanted to see more. You pulled at his shirt and he laughed again. “Do I need to tie those hands up? ‘Cause you don’t know how to listen,” he said. 

“I wanna see all of you,” you said.

“Naw, today’s about you,” he said. He tilted his head and grabbed his dick, stroking a few times as he looked at your dripping pussy. 

“‘Bout you getting what you so obviously deserve.” He slapped his dick against your pussy. Your eyes rolled back. You lost track of how many orgasms he handed out. You should be tired. You should be too wrung out to do anything more. 

But you were hungry for him. Desperate for that long dick to deliver the strokes you sorely miss. Need. 

“Today’s about getting you back to normal. To remind you that you’re fuckin’ gorgeous. That you shouldn’t go a day without getting filled up and fucked,” he said. 

“Oh god. Fuck,” you moaned. 

He slowly worked his way into your pussy. You moaned, crying out at just how big he was. How deep he was already and he hadn’t bottomed out yet. 

“Ouue, shit. Hear this pussy talkin’?” He asked.

“Unf, yesss,” you moaned. 

“You hear it? You should be hearing that every night,” he said. He wet his dick with your arousal and your toes curled as he finally settled himself in your wet heat. 

“Fuck. Flip over ‘cause you don’t know how to behave,” he said. 

“I can behave,” you said and poked your bottom lip out. 

He grinned, those golds transforming him from hot to smoldering. He kissed you with a loud smack. “You can’t even listen when Daddy tell you do something. Flip that ass over,” he said. 

You whined playfully as he slipped out. You let your wobbly legs down onto the floor and then turned around. He moved your hips until he lined you up where he wanted you. He lifted your left leg to hug the table and pressed down on your back until you were flush against the surface. 

He smacked your ass. The loud sound and pain made you cry out. “Show me how you got them kids,” he said.

“Fuuuck,” you moaned. 

He rammed his dick back inside you and you gasped. He stayed there, buried inside you while you adjusted to his girth and length. “Oue, shit. Fuuuck, you’re so big Daddy,” you moaned. You shook your ass on his dick. 

He placed his hands on your hips but made no further movements. You began to move, rocking back on his dick, showing him exactly how you got your kids. You slammed down on him how you liked. Rough. Hard. It wasn’t difficult to do since his dick was so big. You had so much to work with. 

“Ohhh, you like this dick,” he said.

“Yes, Daddy, I like it,” you said. Hell, you had no room to lie. Even working yourself desperately on his dick like this, you were having the time of your fucking life. 

He chuckled and then started stroking. “Oh shit,” you said, a hint of panic creeping into your voice. You thought you were doing a little something. Arching your back and bouncing your ass on his dick.

But Stunna? Stunna was a different breed. He gave it to you exactly how you needed. He rutted inside of you, slamming you back on his dick with enough force to rob you of air. Rob you of thought. You were able to turn your brain off and enjoy getting filled up.

“You still like that shit?” He asked.

“Ahm,” you moaned. You couldn’t answer him. Couldn’t do anything but accept this deep, rough fucking. He moved his hands to your lower back and switched up his strokes. He moved deeper, his strokes longer. His thighs slapped against your ass loud enough to be mistaken for fireworks or a gunshot. 

You laid your cheek against the table and let your body take over for you. Your body knew exactly what to do. Your pussy gripped him and he moaned low in his throat. 

“I need that last one, mama. Gimme that last one,” he said.

“I…can’t…” You said.

“Sure you can. Gripping me so pretty. You almost there. You almost there, I can feel it. I can feel how much you need it. Let it go, mama. Let it go,” he said. His voice grew quieter as he talked. 

The pressure in your lower belly was unbearable. You whined, knowing you were on the edge. You didn’t know what you needed but you were too far gone to name it. Claim it. To let him know.

Stunna’s hands roamed up your back until one of his hands was gripping the back of your neck. He squeezed and you gasped at the new angle. He got deeper, the tip of him kissing the very heart of you.

You exploded with a loud shriek, squeezing him and cumming with the power of a thousand suns. You shook and twitched on the table, flopping around. You were too lost to consider how crazy you looked.

“Gahh damn,” he moaned. He moved his hips rougher and faster until he slammed into you and shouted, unloaded a huge load into you.

“Sheeeeit,” you moaned. His cum painted your insides. Some of him slipped out around his dick and dropped down to your clit and likely landed on the table. 

“Fuck, mama. That was fuckin’ sexy,” he said. He slowly pulled out and you felt the rush of his cum leak out. Good fucking thing you were still on birth control. The last thing, the absolute last thing you needed was to turn up pregnant with another man’s baby. Good luck explaining that to your husband. 

You were still glitching on the table. So thoroughly fucked out that you couldn’t move yet. Didn’t want to move. 

Stunna rubbed your back and then your booty. He gave you a booty massage while he watched his cum spill out of you. 

The smell of chicken finally invaded your senses. “Food,” you said. 

“Don’t worry, mama. You focus on getting your strength back,” he said. He zipped himself back up and then washed his hands. He turned off the stove and then heated up the pan. You listened and saw his back as he moved around your kitchen, cooking food for your family.

He fried up the shells, dipped it in the sauce and then rolled it on the pan with chicken and cheese. Done, he put some seasoning on top followed by more cheese. He put it in the oven and set a timer.

This. This was what you thought married life would be like. Getting your guts rearranged and cooking food together. Laughing together. Playing together. 

Stunna came back around to check on you. He grinned and leaned on the table to kiss you. You were still in the same position he left you in. Fucked out and blissed out. 

“Why don’t you go shower and I’ll watch the food. Should be done by the time you get out,” he said.

“How are you…” 

“I see somethin’ I want, I want it. Let a real nigga show you how to appreciate the mother to his kids,” he said. He kissed you again and rubbed on your booty. “Now get your sexy ass upstairs before you’re late picking up your kids,” he said.

He helped you to your feet, proud of himself. Bastard. You picked up your clothes but Stunna stopped you from putting them on. 

“I wanna see that ass jiggle up the stairs,” he said. 

“I can’t stand you!” You said and giggled, wiggling your ass for him. You swayed your hips. A new energy suffusing you as you did so. You walked up to your room and showered, feeling nasty and like a woman again. Like you were more than a glorified maid and cook. 

Done with your shower, you came downstairs. Stunna was on his phone, sitting at the table like he didn’t fuck you senseless thirty minutes ago. When you came back in with cuter panties this time, black leggings, and a red T-shirt, Stunna whistled like you were walking around in lingerie. 

“Sexy ass. Getting fucked look good on you,” he said.

“Shut up!” You giggled. The enchiladas were cooling on the counter top. It smelled divine. You grabbed a plate and handed it to him, sitting down next to him. “Not really mines since you ended up finishing it,” you said. 

“You not gon’ have none?” He asked. 

You shook your head. “I’ll have some later. My schedule kinda lines up with the twins. I eat when they do,” you said. 

Stunna pushed the plate towards you, holding out the fork. “Eat,” he said.

“I’m fine,” you said.

“Do I need to feed you?” He asked. 

You rolled your eyes and took the fork from him. Nasty ass. If he fed you, you’d be late to pick up your kids. You ate a bite and moaned at the taste. His style was similar to yours but food made by other people tasted so much better. 

You ate half and pushed the other half to him. He chuckled. “Aight, but next time you’re eating all of it. Gotta take care of yourself too,” he said.

“Oh, next time? That’s bold,” you said.

He ate and shrugged his shoulders. “You ain’t telling me no,” he said.

You rolled your eyes again. You laughed and giggled your way during his meal. He finished and you washed the plate. Dishes were your least favorite chore so you made sure to do it as soon as possible. To avoid it getting gross. And yes, a little bit of you wanted no reminder of him here. 

Stunna came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist. He dropped his head to your shoulder. “Give me your number. I won’t cause a scene. I just wanna be in your life,” he said.

“Stunna, we can’t. This was fun,” you said.

“More than fun.” He lifted your chin with his fingers and looked in your eyes. “You feel something here. We work well together. However you’ll have me,” he said. 

You bit your lip. You wrestled with the decision. He already knew where you lived. What was your number on top of that? 

Your alarm went off. Your first reminder that you needed to get going to arrive at pick up early. You jerked away from Stunna, grabbing your phone off of the counter and silencing it. Stunna watched you as you thought through your options. 

“Giving you my number is like…agreeing to keep doing this,” you said.

“I ain’t gon’ pressure you for nothin’ you don’t wanna give. This can be whatever you want. But I saw your face when I was in that pussy. And it’s obvious your husband been neglecting you. Use me,” he said. 

He slowly walked over to you. He took the phone from your hands and started tapping away. “Use me whenever your hands don’t do nearly as good a job as me,” he said. 

You sighed and grinned. “Nasty ass,” you said. 

“I’ma dip. But use that number.” He gave you a last, scorching kiss and then let himself out of your house. 

You stared at the door, long after he was gone until your second alarm went off. You silenced it and made sure the stove was off. You left the house to pick up Noah and Naomi, listened to their excited chatter about school and what they learned.

You descended into “mom mode” as you fell into your normal routine. Get them home, homework done, washed up, and ready for dinner. Your husband made a rare appearance for once kissing you on the cheek and the kids on the head. 

“Did you try something different?” 

“Huh?” You asked, looking up from your dinner. 

“Did you try something different with the enchiladas? It tastes different, but delicious like always, babe,” he said. 

You stared at the table, picturing all the nasty shit you did there. How Stunna not only handled you, he also handled dinner. You sipped your water since your mouth went dry. The flashbacks were vicious. 

“Saw something online that I wanted to try. You like it?” You asked.

“Mhm,” your husband said. 

You hid your smile by eating more of the food and wondered when you could get Stunna back over. 

The Secret Big Stunna Files...in case you needed a little more in your life.

Part 2

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

[megamindsecretlair]

Thinkin' 'Bout You, Part 2

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

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. Infidelity. FILTH. PWP, cursing, PIV, fingering (female receiving), oral (male receiving) teasing/mocking, cum play and swallowing, spanking, dirty talk, degradation kink, breeding kink if you squint, all consensual. Use of n-word. Referring to female anatomy as "she".

Summary: As a sneaky link, Stunna is highly demanding of your time. He doesn't care if you get caught; when he wants you, he wants you. He pops up just as your man leaves for the day and as much as you want to resist, you can't.

Word Count: 3,749k

The Secret Big Stunna Files | Part 1 | Part 3

A/N: I planned for this being a one-shot. While I would NEVER condone cheating in real life, Stunna just screams perfect sneaky link to me. And it's rotting my brain, so enjoy back to back pieces of filth! Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! And please put ages in bios! Or get blockt!

Taglist: @planetblaque @blackerthings @browngirldominion @we-outsiiiide @thecookiebratz @iv0rysoap @notapradagurl7 @sevikasblackgf @miyuhpapayuh @xo-goldengirl @kindofaintrovert @flydotty @judymfmoody @slippinninque @soufcakmistress @henneseyhoe

You were finally free. You loved your man to pieces, but it was rare that you got the house to yourself. Like truly to yourself where you could run around naked without fear of someone creeping up behind you. And you could watch your stories on Lifetime in peace without a certain someone making fun of you for it.

You sat on the couch in one of his T-shirts, absently folding laundry while you watched the premiere of the week. Something about an obsessed paramedic over a high school girl. Well, they were always obsessed in some kind of way.

Your mind drifted as you watched and folded, appreciating the serenity of the moment. Knocking from your back door pulled you back to conscious thought and you growled. If it was those neighbor’s kids again asking about some ball in your backyard, you were going to pop it in their little faces.

All your life growing up, you didn’t kick balls in others’ yards half as much. You knew your parents weren’t going to replace that shit. You got up, grumbling like an old lady and padded your way to your back door. 

You opened it, ready to cuss out little kids when Stunna turned and smiled at you.

“Stunna!” You yelped. You looked behind him but obviously, it was just your tiny backyard and nothing else. “What are you doing!” 

“Saw that nigga leave. We got plenty of time,” he said. He pushed into your home and you closed the door behind him. Mostly, so your neighbors wouldn’t hear you yelling. 

“Stunna, no! You cannot be here!” You yelled. Yet even as your mouth was saying no, your pussy was already growing damp just from how he was looking today. He wore a Black T-shirt and light jacket, dark jeans and boots. His grills flashed as he smiled and looked you over.

“Easy access, my favorite,” he said. He pulled you by the shirt until he could capture your lips with his own. He moaned as he collided with your lips. “Sexy ass fuckin’ lips.”

You gripped his arms, muscles flexing under your fingers. “Stunna, be for real!” You said. You were in deep shit. You promised yourself that the last time he was at your place would be the absolute last. You had cut it entirely too short, getting dicked down in the kitchen while Stunna made you his famous omelet. 

There wasn’t an inch of space in your home that you hadn’t been bent into a pretzel and it had to stop. At least here. 

Stunna’s hands ran up your thighs and you shivered as if you were freezing. Your body couldn’t feel more overheated. You were breathless already. You knew he promised untold pleasure but you were at constant war with your mind.

“Come on, babygirl. Been feenin’ for this pussy,” he said.

“You always say that, nigga,” you said. 

“And I mean it. How I’m supposed to go about my day when I’m hard as shit thinkin’ ‘bout you?” He smiled, knowing you were weak as hell for his smiles. 

You found your shoulders dipping and your body relaxing against him. You wrapped your arms around his neck and breathed him in. No one smelled as good as him. The scent drove you wild, like an animal going into heat. 

You ached. And right now, only his dick would solve that particular ache. “Aight, hurry up then,” you said with a grin. 

Stunna grinned and kissed you. His hands went up further and glided across your damp panties. He growled against your lips as his hand slipped underneath your panties to play with your damp slit.

“Talkin’ all that fuckin’ shit while you wet as fuck. Take them panties off and let me see,” he said. He scooted away from you and moved you over to the kitchen table. There was nothing on there but bills, mail, some coupons and a bowl of fruit. Yet now, you had thoughts of being eaten out like a meal on that table. 

Your hands shook as you reached under your shirt and pulled down your panties, kicking them off. You lifted the shirt until it was around your hips. Stunna hissed in appreciation, light glinting off of his grills as he looked you over.

He turned you around and bent you over the table roughly, slapping your ass. “What you always fightin’ me for? Like you don’t be cravin’ this dick. I see them messages you send me,” he said. 

He bent down so your ass was in his face. He spread your asscheeks and marveled at your wet core. “Mhm, that pussy miss me, don’t she?” He asked.

You tried to remain silent. You weren’t going to give him the satisfaction of caving so soon. He had to earn his way in there. You should have known better.

He smacked your ass, hard, and you cried out. “I was reading a nasty book before you came over, nigga. Don’t flatter yourself,” you said. You smirked since he couldn’t see you. Stunna hated when you pretended like he wasn’t God’s gift to fucking. But that was when he blew your back out the hardest.

Without warning, he slipped two fingers inside of you. Your essence soaked his fingers and he hummed, finding you so wet. Your knees buckled.  “Ion know why you try to lie when I can feel how wet you are,” he said.

His deep, melodious voice was a physical caress all its own. It reached your ears but you felt him everywhere, all at once. He pumped his fingers in and out of you slowly, torturously, and you whined, needing more stimulation. You needed more than just his fingers. 

“Use your big girl words and tell me what you want,” he said. He continued to slide his fingers in and out. He had long, thick fingers that almost did the job. Almost. Two of those weren’t nearly the size of his dick. That was what you wanted most of all.

“I need you to fuck me,” you said. You were beginning to move your hips in time with his fingers. You didn’t want it nice and slow. That wasn’t what he was here for. He was here to fuck your brains out and leave you well satisfied. 

“I’m already fucking you,” he said. You heard the grin in his voice. Bastard.

“I need you to fuck me with that dick, Daddy,” you said. You pitched your voice lower, more sultry, as you dared risk a glance behind you. He was so tall. He loomed over you with a predatory glare. 

“Was that so hard, babygirl?” He asked.

“Yes, nigga,” you said and rolled your eyes.

In all honesty, you did not expect him to smack the air from your lungs when he smacked your ass. Heat and pain blossomed on your ass and you struggled for air. You gasped, mouth open like a fish as you tried to stay standing. 

“Nasty fuckin’ mouth. C’mere since you think we playin’ games,” he said.

He pulled you by the arm to a standing position. Then he pulled you into the back bedroom and sat down on the bed. His hands flew to his pants and unzipped them. 

“Knees,” he growled. 

You dropped to your knees and planted yourself between his legs. He was so hot when he was like this. When his words were clipped, barely expending the air to get them out. Only because you weren’t a mind reader. Not yet. You weren’t sure how long this could continue, but until then, you were going to enjoy the ride.

He pushed his pants and briefs down far enough to slap your mouth with his dick. It was already leaking precum and you licked your lips as you stared at his thick head.

“Mhm, gon’ stuff that mouth since you ain’t got no manners,” he said. He pulled your head down onto his dick and moaned when your lips wrapped around him. “That’s it, like a good little bitch, huh?” 

You nodded. It was hard to fit all of him inside but he didn’t care. He continued to face fuck you. You watched his face as he did so. Jaw slack, eyes closed. You sucked harder, running your tongue over his mushroom head and tasting the precum there.

“Fuck, suck that shit,” he moaned. He cracked one eye and saw you staring at him. He grinned. “Lookin’ so fuckin’ cute with your mouth closed.” 

Your pussy clenched from the unexpected praise even though it was wrapped in such a nasty package. You got off on being his little slut. His nasty little bitch that took whatever he dished out. Took whatever he gave. Yearned for it. Thought about it. Got off to it too many times to name. 

You moaned around his dick as he pushed in deeper. Pushed past your natural resistance to take him deeper. Your hands were planted on his thighs just so he wouldn’t fuck you into the back wall, but you moved one lower to fondle his balls. 

His hips jerked and he laughed. “Oh, you want me to feed you early today I see. What was all that shit you was talkin’ earlier? Huh?”

You couldn’t talk because his dick was still in your mouth. Yet he kept talking to you as if you could respond. 

“Mouth made to take this fuckin’ dick. My god,” he moaned. His hand palmed your scalp as he pushed you up and down on his dick. Your spit and slobber ran down the length of him. He pushed you down a little too far and you gagged and choked on his dick. 

“Gotta fix that attitude with this dick, huh,” he said. He slipped out and slapped his dick on your face. On your chin, on your lips. He pushed you back down on his dick until he groaned. “Say ahh,” he said with a snicker as he busted inside of your mouth.

You greedily sucked him down. He moaned as you did so, trying to wring all of it out. Your gulps were filthy, lewd but music to his ears. He said as much as he shook his head and sighed with deep relief.

You reluctantly let his soft dick go with a final pop. He used his thumb to swipe run away cum from your mouth. He shoved his thumb inside and you sucked on that too with pleasure. Your head was pleasantly numb. You just wanted to please him in whatever form he wanted.

You liked being his stress relief. You liked that when his mind was going a mile a minute, plotting against Malcolm and this war between them, he found solace in between your thighs. 

“That’s all you needed, was something in your mouth to shut you up?” He asked. You nodded, still sucking on his thumb.

“Good. Always talkin’ shit,” he said. He got up on wobbly knees and hefted you up by placing his hands under your arms. He moved you to the bed where he flipped you onto your back and you yelped. 

Couldn’t he use his words like a big boy? Damn. Always manhandling you. But you knew better than to catch an attitude now. He was focused. And he needed no further encouragement to rock your shit. 

He fell to his knees and then opened your legs, staring at your dripping essence. He licked his lips and looked at you, before descending on your pussy. You cried out, hands flying to the back of his head.

Mercy was not in his vocabulary. His wide lips latched onto your clit and sucked hard. “Ouue shit,” you wheezed out and gyrated your hips. You tried to scoot away from him. Where did he pull this shit out from? 

He’s eaten you out, quite spectacularly before, but this was something new. This was “I haven’t seen you in a year” type of desperation.

“Fuck you going?” He asked. His speech was a little slurred as if he was getting high off of your essence. He wrapped his big hands under your knees and yanked you back to the edge of the bed. You squealed, your hands grabbing onto your bright green covers. 

One of his hands held you open while his other slipped down your folds and entered you. “Oh shit! Wait! Stunna, fuck,” you moaned.

He licked his lips while he pumped his fingers into you. Then his mouth joined in and your body was bowing off of the bed. Your whines and whimpers did not assuage him. He kept it up, licking and sucking.

He swirled his tongue around your clit until it was a swollen little bud practically reaching out for him. He slurped up your essence and moaned when more oozed out of him. He licked everywhere and then flicked his tongue against your clit.

“Shit!” You moaned as you finally came on his tongue. Your thighs snapped shut over his ears but he was undeterred. He kept licking and sucking, wet noises that flicked a switch in your brain.

You trembled and cried out, riding that orgasm like a big wave on the ocean. Your lungs burned from panting so hard. 

“Oh fuck,” you moaned.

Stunna placed wet kisses to both of your thighs. He stood and leaned up so he could plant a sloppy kiss to your forehead. He ran his thumb across your lips before pulling you into a kiss. It was a slow, sensual kiss. The kind that made your toes curl. 

You were breathless by the time he pulled away. “You gon’ have to make up for that attitude, princess,” he said. 

“Wait! I’m sorry!” You whined. 

He chuckled as he shed his clothes. His shirt and jacket went flying, followed closely by his shoes, pants and briefs. He grabbed your hands and pulled you into a sitting position so he could take off your shirt.

He groaned as your titties bounced. He fingered one of your nipples, tugging on it, and it had you biting your lip with pleasure. “Stunna, please!” Wasn’t the incredible orgasm enough? 

There was no way you could take him now. 

“Stunna, please!” He mocked and laughed. He climbed onto the bed and got on his back, making himself right at home as if he was your main. He patted his thighs and waved you over.

You were shaking as you climbed onto him, reverse cowgirl. There was no love in his heart or eyes as he stroked his dick through your sensitive folds. You hissed and sat up, but he pulled one of your arms to make you sit on his dick.

He nearly slammed you onto him and you cried out at the full pressure of him seated inside of you. “Fuck!” You yelled out. 

He chuckled behind you and smacked your round ass. “Don’t start crying now. I still gotta feed you,” he said.

He began to rock his hips but he smacked you for you to understand his little lesson. He wanted you to ride him. And God help you if you weren’t doing it properly. 

You placed your hands on his long legs and began to bounce on his dick, slowly. The tap, tap, tap had you seeing stars. 

“Guess you ain’t that hungry,” he said. His wet thumb encircled your ass and you flew up and off of him. You moaned at the sensation. He pressed his thumb in further, to make sure you knew who it was that was plugging you. 

“I’m sorry!” You moaned. 

“Fuck that mean to me? Move this ass,” he said and punctuated it with another smack to your ass. At this rate, you wouldn’t be able to sit down all night.

You bounced on his dick in earnest. You were a moaning, writhing mess on top of him. In this position, you felt him more intensely. You felt the slide and glide of his long dick as he fed it to you. His thumb was still in your ass and he used his other to smack your ass periodically. He just liked watching you bounce.

“That’s it. Nasty bitch,” he moaned and smacked you again. You cried out but he only answered with another smack. “I wish you could see the way you grip my shit. Creamy and nasty as fuck. All that lyin’, but yo pussy know who she belong to.”

You contracted around his dick and he moaned again. His moans were driving your pleasure through the roof. The feedback that you were doing a good job was a precious thing that you held close to your heart. 

“Ouue, fuck. Ouue fuck,” you moaned as your belly tightened. You were getting so close, he was hitting it so deep inside of you. You slid on his dick until you were leaning back and began convulsing on him.

You screamed out your pleasure, eyes tightly shut and digging your nails into his legs. Your thighs were trembling on his. Your arousal flooded his dick and he groaned from how painfully you were squeezing his dick.

He pushed his hips up and unloaded in you. The hot, wet pulses of his cum coated your insides. You moaned from the sensation of him literally pumping cum. 

“That’s it. That’s what that pussy wanted, huh?” He asked.

“Yes, baby,” you moaned. 

“Why you gotta make it difficult?” He asked. He stroked your back as you calmed down. Sweat ran down from your temples without abandon. 

“I can’t help it, baby,” you said. You slipped off of him and he groaned, watching his cum leak from your pussy. He didn’t let you go far. He immediately pulled you into cuddling with him. You sighed as you rested your head on his chest. 

“I need to clean up,” you said.

“Naw, keep it in there,” he said. 

If you didn’t know any better, you’d swear the nigga was trying to get you pregnant. You could see it now, growing that life inside of you knowing fuck well it wasn’t your mans. You hadn’t discussed babies yet, it was too early in the relationship. You could not have a baby with your sneaky link. That went against every single rulebook out there.

“Nasty ass, no!” You said and giggled. He nuzzled your neck, licking your collarbone. His hand came up to squeeze your titty and you sighed. 

“Baby, I can’t,” you said.

“You always saying that shit and I always prove you wrong,” he said against your neck. He placed sweet kisses there, enough to make you giggle and shy away from him. 

He kissed a hot trail down your neck before he placed the same sweet kisses against your chest. He squeezed your titty until your nipple puckered and then he wrapped his warm mouth around it. You moaned. You were already fucking sore, your ass stung, and you were greedy for more.

A ringtone went off somewhere in the otherwise quiet room and you both groaned. You were always interrupted by someone calling either one of you. 

Stunna disentangled himself from you, sat on the edge of the bed and dug his phone out. “Yeah, nigga, what?” 

You tuned out his side of the conversion. You didn’t want to be involved in that world. He hung up and hung his head for a moment, before cussing under his breath. 

You got to your knees and crawled over to him, wrapping your hands around his neck. You kissed his cheek.

“What’s wrong baby?” You asked.

“Been fuckin’ dying to get over here and now I gotta go deal with some bullshit,” he said. “Man fuck!” 

You hid your grin. He was so damn insatiable. In a perfect world, you two would be together all of the time. And he would spend every moment he could buried inside of you and rearranging your guts. 

“It’s okay, I gotta clean up the mess you made now,” you said and playfully rolled your eyes. He was starting to really fuss, so you leaned over him, grabbed his chin and turned him to face you.

You planted a small kiss on his lips. “Hey, we’ll just look forward to next time,” you said.

He sighed and nodded, getting up but still cussing under his breath. You watched him throw his clothes back and was mesmerized by the simple domestic act. First his briefs that covered up his long dick. 

Then his pants. The zipper enclosed his thickness and your pussy throbbed just thinking of getting another hit of it. Next went his tank, shirt, and jacket and finally his shoes. 

“We need some rules about this, Stunna,” you said quietly, not wanting to ruin the moment but also knowing that your heart couldn’t take this extra stress. “You can’t just pop up whenever you want.”

He checked his pockets and grinned at you. Those fucking golds making your stomach do somersaults. He pulled out a wad of cash and peeled off a band for you. He kissed your forehead and placed it in your hand. “Buy yaself somethin’ cute I can rip off later,” he said.

“Stunna, I’m being serious!” 

He grinned and grabbed you by the throat. You grabbed his wrist, but he had grabbed you in the perfect spot. It made your eyes roll back and your head go numb. 

He placed a soft kiss to your lips and grinned down at you. “I can’t keep my hands off you, babygirl. It’s yo fault for havin’ such a fat, wet pussy.” He kissed you again and released your throat.

“Corny ass nigga,” you muttered. 

“What was that?” His hands flew to his pants as if he would take them right back off and dick you down again. As much as you wanted to, your body was weak. 

“Nothin’ baby, I’ll see you next time.” You made your voice super, extra sweet and he grinned.

“Fuck I thought.” With that, he was gone. You heard the back door slam again as he disappeared and fucked off down the street to his car. You could imagine that walk of his and it only made you shiver with horniness. You had to get your libido under control.

When he came around, your body had a mind of its own. And that wouldn’t do. You groaned as you pulled sheets off of the bed to wash and replace them on the bed. So much for a quiet day watching your stories.

The Secret Big Stunna Files | Part 1 | Part 3

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

[megamindsecretlair]

Thinkin' 'Bout You, Part 1

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

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. Infidelity. FILTH. PWP, cursing, PIV, fingering (female receiving), teasing, cum play, dirty talk, degradation kink, breeding kink if you squint, all consensual. Use of n-word. Referring to female anatomy as "she".

Summary: As a sneaky link, Stunna is highly demanding of your time. He doesn't care if you get caught; when he wants you, he wants you. He texts you when you're hanging with your girlfriends for some late night fun.

Word Count: 3,637k

Masterlist | Part 2 | Part 3

A/N: As with everything else, you can blame @planetblaque for my depraved brain! She encouraged me to watch All Day and a Night since @blackerthings pointed out that Yahya needs more love. He was definitely the best thing in the movie. Grills flashing, hood shit. Yeah, just yeah. I'm also feral and avoiding going to sleep for work so enjoy! Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! And please put ages in bios! Or get blockt!

Taglist: (let me know if you don't want to be tagged, tagging some usual suspects) @browngirldominion @we-outsiiiide @thecookiebratz @iv0rysoap @notapradagurl7 @sevikasblackgf @miyuhpapayuh

Satan: Come outside 😛🤤

You: Boy nooo 🙄

You rolled your eyes at your phone, not believing the audacity of this nigga. Your girls are laughing at the TV but when they see you on your phone, your girl Brooke smacked her teeth.

“Yo ass always on that damn phone!” She said. She leaned over as if she meant to take it from you but you held on to it for dear life. She gave up and looked towards your other friend, Nandi. 

“Girl, you know that man got her on a short leash. Stay checking up on her,” she said. 

Satan: come on girl, damn 

You: I’m with my gfs!!! 

Satan: Satan sent a photo

You had to sit there with a straight face while you stared at a picture of Stunna’s dick. He was so long and thick and veiny. You could picture him sitting in his car, licking his grills while he pulled this out just to take a picture for you. And damn him, you couldn’t resist. 

Your thighs were tingling already. Brooke and Nandi were still going off at your expense, poking fun at the idea that your man was constantly on you.

“Like a pimple!” 

“Naw, like white on rice!” Brooke said and they howled with laughter.

“Whatever! Ya’ll bitches just mad ‘cause my nigga want it,” you said. You threw a throw pillow at Nandi. She barely dodged it, her large blue bonnet swinging with the movement. 

“Look, let me deal with this nigga outside. This conversation too grown for ya’ll childish mu’fuckas,” you said. You tapped on the phone as if you were truly going to call your man. He was out running the streets per usual instead of kickin’ it at home with you.

“Mhm, that dick must got gold on the tip or somethin’,” Nandi said. She continued to howl with laughter, slapping Brooke’s hand in agreement.

Little did they fucking know. You practically skipped your ass outside, the cold chill of the night hitting your bare legs in your booty shorts. The slap of your slides seemed too loud in the quiet neighborhood. 

Brooke stayed in the section of the hood where the old folks’ held onto their homes. Sure, hood shit happened around them but rarely on this particular block. Up the street, Stunna’s car was still running with the lights on stark against the night.

He parked away from the street lamps but still you scurried to his car and got in. You were out of breath with worry and adrenaline coursing through you. You hoped and prayed that your girls wouldn’t come looking for you because you had no valid excuse for why you were down the street.

Stunna smiled at you when you got in the car, smelling damn good. Like soap and spice and everything nice. His grills flashed in the low light from the car console and you turned towards him, rubbing your hand on his thigh.

“You are so crazy,” you said.

He pulled away from the curb. You weren’t going far. Just around the corner and down the side alley where the streetlamps didn’t work and the City was too busy to come fix it. Who cared if the hood needed street light? 

“Crazy for you, baby,” he said. He pulled over and turned off the car and headlights, already reaching for you across the seat. His hand was hot as he laid it across your thigh, squeezing it. 

You were already leaning up, wrapping your hands around his neck and pulling him closer. Sucking on his sweet ass lips as your body tingled all over. Hurt all over. You shouldn’t want this man this much. Not when you were willing to risk discovery like this. 

You don’t even know how you got here, kissing on Stunna. One day your man had just made you so fuckin’ angry you could spit. You were out one night with your girls at a takeover, enjoying the music and drink as you passed by a fine, tall man with a wide smile and gold in his mouth. 

You fought hard not to do a double take. Because how was this man out here walking freely? He needed to be locked the hell up looking like that. He had asked if you had a man. You told him yes, reluctantly. He had licked his lips and looked at you sideways, “Bet I can do better than that nigga.” 

And here you were, months later, still risking it all for the motherfucker. Stunna didn’t care where you were or what you were doing. He sent dick pics at all hours of the day and night. Sometimes he sent videos with him cumming and moaning your name. 

Those you kept to get yourself off to. There was something about that needy voice drawing your name out that got you so hot and bothered you couldn’t stand it. You knew it was wrong. You knew he was whole ass married and you were whole ass taken. But you were weak where Stunna was concerned. 

Stunna stopped kissing you and moved on to your neck. You moaned but pulled at his dark jacket. “C’mon Stunna, I can’t be gone long. My girls gon’ wonder where I’m at,” you said. 

“Let them wonder. You know how long I been cravin’ this pussy?” He asked. 

“How long you been cravin’ this pussy?” You asked. 

He licked your collarbone, eliciting a ragged moan from your lips. “All fuckin’ day, beautiful,” he said. 

He got out of the car and came around to the passenger side. You were kicking off your slides when he pulled your door open. You only had eyes for him as you were unbuttoning your shorts and yanking down the zipper. He licked his lips as you began to shimmy out of them.

He was usually impatient, not waiting until they were at your ankles before he was already pulling you down on his dick. Tonight, he was content to watch you pull them down for him, inch by slow inch over your thighs and down to your feet. 

His golds flashed in the low moonlight. He was haloed by the thick foliage behind him. Gravel crunched beneath his boots as you finally got out of your shorts. “Turn around how I like,” he said.

You got to your knees in the seat, struggling a bit to make sure you didn’t fall and bust your ass. He steadied you with strong hands on your hips. He lined you up how he liked and then slapped your ass.

“Fuck, that recoil. Look at that shit,” he said. 

“Stunna, come on,” you said. You hated when he got like this. It always felt like all his delaying and talking would certainly mean that you would get caught. 

He slapped your ass, hard. You gasped as the sting blossomed into wet hot pain. Your pussy throbbed as you caught your breath. 

“Fuuuuuu-” 

“Don’t rush me,” he said. You heard his zipper get pulled down and his pants shoved down. You were clenching and unclenching around nothing. You were moving back and forth, ready for whatever he was going to do to you. 

One of his hands pressed down on your back until you were leaning forward on the arm rest. Your ass went higher in the air and he groaned as you exposed yourself to him. He groaned and smacked your ass again. Between the sound and the pain, you were going to combust and he hadn’t even touched you yet.

“What I say about that attitude?” He asked. His other hand went underneath, trailing a finger through your wet folds until he found your clit. He dragged his finger around lazily, never actually touching the damn thing. 

You whined, unashamed as he teased you. “Please, please, Stunna,” you begged. 

How the nigga gon’ get you horny and then tease you? You didn’t have all night. There was the distant sound of cars driving and dogs barking. That cold chill was hitting your back and damp pussy and you shivered with anticipation. 

Somehow, Stunna was able to get under your skin. It was like he wormed his way into your nerve endings. Everything he did turned you on. Somehow, all it took was a smile from him and you were a dripping mess. 

“Please what? I’m over here tellin’ you I missed you and you got a mu’fuckin’ attitude,” he said. 

He moved his fingers faster, circling and circling until you were shaking and trembling. You were so close but it was just out of reach because he wasn’t touching you where you needed him.

“Please, Stunna. You gon’ get me caught up,” you whined.

“Good. I should send yo ass back in there full of me. Ruin these mu’fuckin panties with my cum dripping out of you,” he said. He ran his hands along your sides, his long fingers trailing against your rib cage. He moved them higher, gripping and pulling on your titties until you were crying out from the pain. 

Your pussy throbbed thinking of going back into Brooke’s house full of his cum and trying to act normal. Sitting there laughing at trashy reality TV, drinking wine and pretending like you didn’t feel every single ounce of his cum slipping out. That you would have to go home like a nasty little slut and clean it all up before your man found out.

You moaned at the visual. Of being so thoroughly claimed by him that you’d feel him all night long. “Shit,” you said.

“Oh, my little nasty bitch like that shit huh?” Stunna asked as he lined himself up with your entrance. He slowly dipped in and you reared up, your hand flying behind you to land against his solid chest.

He was on the thin side, with a basketball build, but hella muscles. His abs flexed as you grabbed him. “Oh, too much!” You shrieked.

He didn’t say anything. He just grabbed your hand and moved it as he continued to push into you, getting himself wetter with your juices on every slide in. You shrieked again, whining that it was too much. He was too big and he needed to go slower. 

He pulled you up until your back was flush against his chest. He felt even tighter going in this way and you moaned, trying to push away from him. He slid one hand under your shirt to grip your titty, squeezing the nipple hard.

You moaned, the shoot of pain going straight to your swollen clit. His other hand went over your shoulder, grabbing your throat and pulling you even more flush against him.

He hissed in your ear as he started to move more. From this position, wrapped up in his arms, you had no wiggle room to push him off of you. You didn’t necessarily want him to stop, it just felt too damn good. Too good. 

“Stunna!” You begged but he refused to listen. He started stroking deep within you. His strokes increased in pressure. His thighs were slapping against your ass. Clapping like a crack of thunder on the horizon. 

“Oue, look how well she take that dick,” he moaned in your ear. He kept up his painful assault on your nipples. 

You were beyond speech as he kept stroking, his dick stretching you out deliciously. It was like he was made for your pussy the way he fit so perfectly. 

“Oue, baby, you feed me so well,” you moaned. One arm was trapped by his, but your other floundered until you rested it against the top of the car. Your fingers desperately scratched against the fluffy interior as he pounded into you.

The wet smack of your pussy made you moan louder, higher, and you were cumming before long. You shook and moaned on his dick while he continued to pound into you.

“Flood that fuckin’ dick, babygirl,” he groaned. 

It was like you were just a vessel for him to fuck. A fleshlight. He kept up that brutal, near punishing pace. “Filthy fuckin’ bitch, ain’t you?” 

“Mhm,” you moaned. 

“Next time I say come outside, I mean that shit. I don’t care what you doin’,” he said. He groaned and shook his hips, finally releasing his fat, hot load into you. 

“You gon’ get us fuckin’ caught!” You moaned as you felt him pulsing inside of you. Your body bowed and trembled, feeling so fucking complete you had no thought to how to describe it. 

Your mind was always racing, burdened with this terrible secret. You couldn’t stay away from Stunna and hell, he wouldn’t let you. But you lost all rational thought when it came to him. Here you were, having dirty car sex while he calls you dirty names.

His hands had you enveloped in his arms, hand across your titties and the other around your throat. You were able to breathe because he allowed you so. You were able to cum because he was in charge of them. 

“Let us get caught then. What yo bitch ass nigga gon’ do?” He asked. He licked the shell of your ear and your eyes rolled back. He was still pounding into you. Still groaning. He rested his forehead against the back of your neck and you felt a drop of his sweat hit your back. 

“Huh? What he gon’ do?” He seemed to pound into you harder as if he had something to prove. As if with the force of his hips, he could fuck all the memories of your man out of your mind. That you never forgot who it was that had you crying, begging, and screaming on his dick in an alley behind your girls’ house. 

“‘Cause the way this pussy talkin’, she know who the fuck got her actin’ up,” he moaned in your ear. 

“Fuck you, nigga,” you groaned. 

Your knees were quivering as you threw it back on him. His dick was so long and thick, you were pretty sure he was kissing your cervix. He moved both hands to your nipples and pinched them. He rolled them between your fingers.

Your hands pushed against his chest. “Stunna, shit!” You cried out. 

“Gimme another one,” he said. 

“I can’t, baby,” you said. 

He slammed you back on his dick anyway, the fat tip of his dick sliding against your walls. “Sure you can, babygirl. ‘Cause you my nasty bitch. You always cum when Daddy come around,” he said. 

Fuck him, he was right. It was why you were still here, still answering whenever he hit you with that text message. He knew what the fuck he was doing when he sent you that dick pic. You had to quit this man somehow. Block his number or tell him that he couldn’t come around anymore. 

You were risking exposure every time you let him take you like this. In his car, in the park. At his place when LaTrice was gone. At your place when your man was out in the streets. In the back of your job when he’d eat you out and send you back inside proper. You couldn’t keep your hands off of each other. 

Knowing Stunna, he’d just track your ass down. Man or not, he wasn’t going to be deterred. If he needed to be sheathed inside you, feeling you clenching around his dick, then he would slip a damn nugget. He would get bolder, driving past your house and job. Bangin’ on your friends’ door until he could track you down and fuck some sense into you.

That type of behavior was not sexy. Yet knowing that Stunna couldn’t quit you was intoxicating. Knowing that you made him so horny, he was tugging his meat to thoughts of you, filming himself in the bathroom while his girl took a nap in the other room, was an aphrodisiac all its own. You were drunk over this type of power over him but you didn’t need this getting in the way of your life.

You were weak. You did not need your peoples knowing how weak you were. 

“Stunna, goddamn. Oue, shit, ouueee shit, ouueesshiit,” you moaned as you came on his dick again, shaking and twerking uncontrollably. Your choppy moans made him groan.

“You gon’ make me fuckin’ nut,” he groaned. Right after, he moaned in your ear, tugging your ear between his teeth. The bite of pain did nothing to stop your orgasm from flooding your system like the sweetest drug. 

His cum painted your insides as he slammed his hips one last time, shoving his cum deep within you. You both huffed and panted as you came down. Your legs were veritable noodles, wobbly beneath you. You couldn’t hold your weight up anymore. 

Stunna kissed along your neck and ear as he shook himself inside of you to make sure you got every single drop. He pulled out with a strangled groan that made your pussy clench. 

He helped you step back into your panties and shorts, making good on his threat to send you back to Brooke’s house full of his cum. You rubbed your sweaty hands on your thighs as he leaned against the car and helped you twist around to face him.

His tongue was long as he dived in to kiss you stupid. He licked your bottom lip and tugged it into his mouth with a hiss. “Fuck, babygirl. You don’t know how long I been needin’ that,” he said. 

“Gon’ get me in fuckin’ trouble,” you said. But you couldn’t resist kissing him back. You cupped his face and brought him closer. You remembered once when he told you that he liked when you did shit like that. When you kissed him so sweetly and clung to him like he was the most precious man on the planet.

You didn’t know if this worked because this was so damn toxic or if you two were really that in sync. Should’ve stayed your Black ass at home. Neither one of you could quit each other. 

“Thank you, baby,” you said. He kissed your lips slowly. Your phone rang and you groaned, fishing it out of your pocket.

Nandi’s name flashed and you rolled your eyes, answering it.

“Girl, where’d you fuckin’ go? To the moon? Tell that nigga to ease up off your titty and come back inside. This is girls’ night!” 

“Yes, momma,” you said and giggled. 

“Shit up, bitch, come on,” she said. 

You hung up with her and stared up at Stunna. The moon light made his mini afro shine. His wide smile made your heart melt. A bit of his cum leaked out of you and you moaned in the back of your throat. 

“There’s no way I can go back in like this,” you said. 

You were worried that your girls would smell him on you. That somehow they could smell that you had been out like a little hussy. A giant red A would be painted on your forehead and they would see it on you. Judge you. 

You couldn’t tell anyone about this and it was killing you. You wanted to talk to someone about it. Ease this burden you set up for yourself. It was also hot as hell that you had such a naughty secret. That you were regularly getting your back blown out and it wasn’t by your man. 

“Yes you can. When you get home and that nigga sleepin’ in yo bed, I want you to take a picture of them panties for me. I wanna see how badly I bullied that pussy,” he said. 

You slapped at his chest. “You so bad! Let me get back before they start looking for me.” 

He dived down for another kiss, slowly pulling at your bottom lip. “Till next time, babygirl,” he said.

He got back in his car and pulled out of the alleyway. He pulled up back on Brooke’s street, across the way and down from her house. You didn’t see your girls and you hoped that they didn’t look outside for you. You had been gone for quite a while but you also told your friends how your man needed constant reassurance. You could be on with him for five minutes or fifty. So far, they hadn’t called bullshit but it was only a matter of time. You gave him one final lingering kiss before hopping out of his car and scurrying across the street.

Your slides slapped against the ground and then the tile of Brooke’s house as you ascended the stairs. You went back inside, feeling weirdly full and uncomfortable as you went back into the living room.

Nandi and Brooke made no comment about not seeing you outside. Instead, they continued with their jokes about your man. You felt like you were soaking right through your panties and shorts and onto Brooke’s couch. 

You spent the rest of the night reliving the backshots you got from Stunna. Nasty nigga. He couldn’t keep popping up like this. There had to be some kind of code or boundary for this shit. He couldn’t keep showing up unannounced. 

Satan: Miss that 😹 already 

You: Bye nigga 😤

When you went home that night, however, your man was snoring in bed. You immediately went to the bathroom to freshen up. You felt dirty as you snapped a picture of your ruined underwear. You sent it to Stunna. It was late, you weren’t expecting him to answer. 

But your phone buzzed with a series of emojis that made you giggle. 

You: Nasty ass

Stunna: Should’ve bullied that throat. You got a potty mouth. 

Your thighs clenched together as you finished getting ready. You fell asleep against your man with thoughts of Stunna ruining you in dreamland.

The Secret Big Stunna Files | Part 2 | Part 3

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

[megamindsecretlair]

When the Rain Starts

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

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. Fluff with some smut, cursing, PIV, oral (female receiving) fingering (female receiving) size kink, dirty talk, praise kink, drug (weed) use. Demi reader. Demisexuality is a sexual orientation in which a person feels sexually attracted to someone only after they've developed a close emotional bond with them.

Summary: Spending a rainy afternoon with Stunna, you enjoy each other's bodies.

Word Count: 3,693k

A/N: Self-indulgent as fuck! Exposing myself a bit, but that's alright. Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! And please put ages in bios! Or get blockt!

Taglist: @planetblaque @blackerthings @browngirldominion @we-outsiiiide @thecookiebratz @iv0rysoap @notapradagurl7 @sevikasblackgf @miyuhpapayuh @xo-goldengirl @kindofaintrovert @flydotty @judymfmoody @slippinninque @soufcakmistress @henneseyhoe @westside-rot @melaninpov @twocentuar @blackpinup22 @babybratzmaraj @theyscreamsannii @kiabialia @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @nworbaij @hopefulromantic1 @lesbiantreehugger @longpause-awkwardsmile @badassdoll @kholdkill @cardi-bre91 @blowmymbackout @jay-mach @sageispunk @yourofficialgal @harmshake @ciaqui @liyaah02 @monaeesstuff

“You sure you good?” 

Stunna laid on top of you, putting his full weight down and you never felt better. You nodded and sighed, loving the feel of him. You sort of wished he was heavier. You loved that you could barely breathe around him and you adjusted your legs around his waist.

You were both naked, spending most of the rainy afternoon vibing. Soft, lofi music played in the background enough to feel like you were in a private bubble without getting distracted by the lyrics. A coffee scented candle was burning and it filled up your room with its intoxicating aroma. 

Stunna smiled at you. “You really don’t mind me laying on you like this?” He asked. 

You shook your head. “It feels so good,” you said and giggled. Stunna shook his head and peppered you with kisses, lingering on your lips for half a beat before pulling away. 

“I ain’t understand it, but as long as you’re happy,” he said. He leaned down further and a gasp escaped you, quickly followed by a sigh as your eyes went dream-like. His image went blurry around the edges and you smiled. 

“You’re so pretty when your ass is high,” he said and laughed. 

“You’re pretty when you’re high,” you said and stuck your tongue out. 

Stunna pretended like he wanted to capture your tongue with his mouth. You leaned away. His big hands came up to your sides, tickling you. You squirmed and moved, trying to get away but he was on top of you and you had nowhere to go. You laughed, unable to help yourself. 

“Stop! No tickle!” Your voice went lower, softer, and you pouted at him in between your giggles. He stopped tickling you and kissed your neck. 

“Okay, fine, no tickle. Kiss?” 

“All the kisses,” you said with a nod. 

He leaned down, prepared to give you a kiss. He started up his tickles again and you squealed and screamed. It was such an unnerving experience, but you didn’t mind when Stunna did it. It was just his playful way with you. 

He laughed as you tried to hold him down and tickle him back. He shifted his hips, rubbing his dick against you and you sighed. You were sopping wet and had been for a number of hours. You stopped keeping count some time ago.

That was the point. To finally get out of your head long enough to enjoy his body. Not just race to the finish line. 

Stunna returned to your lazy kisses, lips capturing your bottom lip in between his. He held on, sucking on it before pulling away, kissing you, and doing it again. Your hands rubbed his smooth strong shoulders, holding him as close to you as you could. You wished you could live inside his body. To tuck yourself inside and never leave. 

“Come back, baby,” he said against your lips.

You giggled. “I can’t help it, my mind keeps wandering,” you said.

“That’s okay. That’s why I’m here. You feeling good?” He asked.

You nodded. “So, so good. Needy too,” you said. You smiled at him and his mouth curved into that slow, sexy half smirk of his. 

“Is that right?” He asked.

You nodded again, running your hands up and down his arms. Across his back. It was insane how well he took care of his body. He ate right, drank plenty of water, and exercised like a maniac. And you got to enjoy the results each and every single day. It still amazed you. Out of all the stars in the galaxy, you ended up under the same ones as him. 

“Well, we can’t have that,” he said. He leaned over to the side, moving his weight off of you. You could breathe better, but you’d rather suffocate than have him move an inch. He pulled you into a kiss while his hand snaked down your body.

His fingers ran between your breasts, down your tummy, cupping your mound and you shifted. “Shh, shh,” he said. “You ain’t gotta do a thing,” he said. 

You continued to kiss him, getting lost in just that sensation alone while he dipped a finger between your folds. He groaned against your lips, finding you incredibly wet. 

The music flipped to a quieter song and you could hear the rain pounding against the window. You opened your eyes and found Stunna looking at you. “So fuckin’ wet and beautiful,” he said. 

It felt like your heart grew three sizes too big. It thundered against your ribcage, beating like it wanted to take flight and hug him. Hug him and never let go. 

He pushed his fingers inside and you moaned, opening your legs wider. “There you go, that’s all you gotta do. Just relax and listen to me,” he said. 

He talked to you in between kissing you. You didn’t know what to pay attention to. The song. The candle. The rain. His fingers. All of it was fighting for attention in your head. You decided to focus on his fingers, the way they pushed in and out slowly. The way he’d wiggle his fingers a little while inside. 

You held onto his arm, thighs shaking, gasps leaving you in short bursts. You felt the approaching orgasm. The way your pussy would clench and stomach would flip. Like you were about to go over a tall drop on a rollercoaster. You could see and feel it coming, but nothing ever prepared you for going over. The weed made everything more sensitive and you took a deep breath. You didn’t cum though. As soon as you called attention to it, it seemed to scurry away.

You sighed and shook your head. Stunna kissed your forehead. “That’s okay. That doesn’t have to be the goal. Focus on feeling good,” he said.

How could you? You felt like you waited so damn long to have sex and now your vagina was broken or something. It wasn’t a use it or lose it type of situation, but it felt like it. You stupidly thought that sex would be like how it was on TV. That all it took was some passionate lovemaking and then boom, stars would explode behind your eyes. It was nothing like how you read either. How guys knew exactly what to do and you’d cum on the spot, speaking in tongues, and promising your first born to him. 

You’d been dating Stunna for quite a while, almost a year, and while you had sex, you’d never had an orgasm. You planned to leave, knowing it was awkward as hell. You didn’t want to subject him to a life trying to satisfy his partner. He wouldn’t let you though.

He did all the right things. Ate you out, fingered you, had sex. And nothing. Nada. Zip. 

“Come on back, baby,” Stunna said, kissing you and pulling you from your thoughts. You smiled. You absolutely loved this man. He was kind, sweet, and kept you laughing. He loved feeding you his latest experiments. He got so cute and flustered while he watched as you tried his latest dish. 

He had pulled out his fingers while your mind went on a little trip. “There’s no expectations here. Just you and me.” 

You nodded. “It’s not that. It feels so good and I get so close. But nothing!” 

“You have to let it come. I know it’s scary,” he said.

“It’s not scary. I just, I have to brace for it,” you said. You didn’t know if you were making any sense. You weren’t afraid to have an orgasm, you were just…nervous? Of your reaction maybe? Or how you’d look? It was hard to let go completely. Your entire life, you had to plot, plan, and be wary of everything. You never knew where the next blow would come from and you liked being prepared.

There was nothing wrong with that. But how did you prepare for an orgasm? Something you’d never experienced and was pretty sure it was the lost city of Atlantis by this point. You were never going to find it. 

“You can’t brace for it either. It’s gon’ come when you good and ready,” he said.

“I’m ready now!” You said.

He chuckled and you smiled. Not many men would be this patient with you. Now your sexcapades had shifted from desperate clutches in the dark to Stunna making sure you were as comfortable as possible. He took the time to slow down and get you so worked up you couldn’t see straight. 

Like now. You were horny as hell. You had spent the entire afternoon getting comfortable and listening to the sound of his voice. Which should be bottled up and sold as the cure for everybody’s ailments. You could listen to him read the dictionary and you’d stay up all night just to listen. But you still hadn’t been able to get off. 

Stunna kissed down your body, pulling you back to reality. He took his time, getting your mind away from your deep thoughts. You played with his mini afro, rubbing his head and neck as he kissed down your body.

Your stomach flipped. You wanted him so badly, you would chew through cardboard to get him to dick you down. A thought in the back of your mind told you not to bother; it wasn’t like you could get off anyway. 

The journey was the most important part. You focused on him, on his lips on your skin. His thumbs digging into your thighs, finding hard little knots that he rubbed away. “Fuuuck,” you moaned, eyes crossing. 

How did he always know where to find those spots? You moaned, twisting on the bed. He cooed at you, kissing your skin. His breath was warm as it fanned across your wet core. His tongue swiped against your pussy and your hips bucked off of the bed. 

He chuckled. “Do I need to tie you up next time?” He asked.

“No,” you said, voice breathy. 

He hummed while he started to lick you. His hands plucked each knot out of your thighs. How were you supposed to focus on cumming when you couldn’t stop thinking about his hands? He found a big knot and you moaned, eyes widening as you looked to the ceiling.

You loved when he did this shit while you were high. It was like floating, or flying, or swimming. Some type of weightless activity that took your breath away. The way everything seemed to get sharper and less sharp at the same time. That everything was dreamy and you were nothing more than a clump of atoms. 

He suckled your clit, pulling you back down. “Oh god, ouee Stunna. Fuuck,” you moaned. The knot popped at the same time he sucked on you again. Your body tensed, hips gyrating, rushing towards an orgasm. 

“Unnf,” you moaned. Your eyes crossed, body shaking uncontrollably. “Please, please, please,” you moaned. 

The orgasm went away again. Slippery bastard. You were right there. There had to be something other than the out of body shakes right? There had to be something just over that peak. You got right to the edge but couldn’t jump.

Stunna slowed down, sucking up anything you gushed out. He came up, beard shiny, and a wide smile. “Don’t pout, baby,” he said. He cleaned off his beard and you watched him.

You wanted a fucking orgasm. And it didn’t help you to focus on it like this. It wasn’t fair to have him do this for you and all you were worried about was cumming. But you wanted to feel normal for fucking once. 

You already grew up feeling like a freak. Like everyone had been born with a rulebook to life except for you. Yours had been lost in transit and you always felt a step behind. The last to get a boyfriend, the last to move out, the last to promote at work. You got jokes a second too late. Some things had to be explained over and over. And now you couldn’t have sex right.

The guilt began to tear you up inside, hollowing you. You turned your head to the side. Didn’t want Stunna to read your thoughts all over your face. 

“Hey, hey, don’t do that. Talk to me, gorgeous,” he said. He got to his knees and pulled you by the hips until you were resting on his thighs. Your back was still against the bed and the silky sheets beneath you. 

You shook your head. If you let all of the demons out of the cage at once, you’d turn into a crying mess. And you didn’t want to do that. Not when he had painstakingly done everything in his power to relax you. Your brain was just your opp at the moment. 

“I hate feeling like I’m failing,” you said.

Stunna nodded, rubbing your thighs. The glide of his hands calmed you, soothed you, and your breathing calmed down. “You can’t fail at sex, baby,” he said. “If people have a bad time, it’s because they don’t connect or communicate. We connect. We communicate. That’s it, that’s all. So you’re not failing. You just have a block in that pretty head of yours and if it takes five years or ten years or sixty-five years to break it, then so be it.” 

You shook your head, trying to sit up. He wouldn’t let you, so you had to settle for leaning against the pillows. “There is no way I’m not cumming for sixty-five years!” 

“Then we gon’ work on what relaxes you,” he said. 

“There’s no way I’m letting you do that,” you said.

“You ain’t gon’ let me do shit. I decided I wanna be here. Deal with it,” he said. He leaned forward, kissing you. His hands moved to your titties, grabbing hold of your nipples and playing with them.

Your pussy throbbed in response. You moaned against his lips. He smiled against yours. He moved his kisses to your neck, suckling on you like he was still making out with you. 

“So fuckin’ gorgeous. Do you know I lucky I feel to spend everyday with you?” He asked. 

“Yes, ‘cause I feel just as lucky,” you told him. He pulled on your nipples and you hissed, nails digging into his back as you held on. 

“Good. ‘Cause I love you so much. And I know you feel frustrated. But we’re going to get there. Together. Feel me?” He asked.

“I feel you,” you echoed. 

“I need you to really feel me, baby,” he said. He took mercy on your poor nipples and stopped tugging on them. He flicked his eyes to you while he moved his head down. His long tongue dropped down and licked around your nipple.

Your lips parted with a sigh while you watched his tongue encircle your nipple. There was a slight sting from when he was playing with them, but now his warm tongue was sweeping that away. Heat moved down your body, making you rub against him. 

He kissed your nipple. “Feeling me, baby?” He asked.

“Yes, I feel you,” you sighed. He was too damn delicious for words. So beautiful and Black. Rich, royal skin pressing against yours. As close as two people could possibly be. He watched you still, eyes never leaving yours. 

He rolled your nipple into his mouth and sucked on it. You gasped, fighting for air at this point. There wasn’t enough of it in your system. You tapped at his shoulder, but all he did was wink at you. 

“Stay with me, baby,” he said. He leaned up, getting back to his haunches. He grabbed his dick and slapped it against your wet pussy. “Mmm, hear that.” 

You nodded. You definitely heard the wet smacks. Sounded just like the rain hitting your window. He swirled his dick in your essence, coating the tip of his dick. You hissed. So fucking sensitive.

“Ready for me?” He asked.

“Oue, yes, please!” You cried out. You couldn’t stand it. You felt out of sync with your body. Like you were caught somewhere in the middle, able to feel both hot and cold. Both needy and desperate to have him inside you finally. 

He pushed in and you leaned up. He stopped and shushed you, pushing on your shoulders to lay back down. “Just feel, baby, and breathe. Breathe for me,” he said. He began to mimic deep breathing and you nodded, following him.

Deep breath in, deep breath out. He moved once more and your hand gripped his forearm. “That’s okay, do what you need to. But you gotta keep breathing,” he said. 

You were trying. He was big and you constantly had to tell him to go slow. But more than that. He was filling you up and you were unbearably horny. You were impatient. 

Stunna worked to Stunna’s desires. He went slow, making sure that you felt every single inch of him glide in. Your body welcomed him in and soon, you were plenty stuffed. He grinned, watching you. You didn’t know what was so damn funny but at least he was pretty.

He could break your back like a glow stick and you’d say thank you. 

He kissed you. You sighed against his lips and spent some time focusing on that. So soft. So wet. So delicious. He was an amazing kisser, playful in a lot of ways. He pulled back and kissed your cheek.

“Still feeling me, baby?” He asked.

“Fuck yes, please move,” you said. You wiggled your hips. You may not be able to cum, but you could still enjoy the journey. He smiled and moved in and out of you. You slapped at his stomach, pushing against him slightly. Shit. You ain’t mean like this! 

His stroke game was crazy. Rolling his hips and driving you insane. He had a long dick and you felt it all. You locked eyes with him while you panted and moaned. He pushed against your hand.

“Move that shit, baby. You gon’ feel all this,” he said. He pushed into you deeper to make his point. He was nearly bottomed out and your thighs were quaking. Shivering. Twitching. Your hand flopped to the side, gripping onto the pillows behind you.

You chewed on your bottom lip, trying to hold on while he stroked. Oh fuck. It felt too good, entirely too fucking good. You wiggled trying to escape him. Too. Fucking. Good. 

“Nah, stay with me. What you running for?” He asked.

“I-I-” 

“I know that, baby. But what you running for?” He asked. “You gotta feel me. You gotta see me. Just focus on right here and now.” 

You gripped the pillow tighter. Oh fuck. “Focus on my voice and how deep I am. Focus on the fact that you doing so fucking good for me.”

“But I-”

“Yes, yes you can. I believe in you, baby. You just gotta believe in you,” he said. He brought his hand up to lick his thumb. Then he flicked it against your clit.

“Ouue shit! Stunna!” You cried out.

“Mhmm. Calm down and focus on your breathing. Come on,” he said.

You squeezed your eyes shut. Your breathing was erratic with short hiccuping bursts. You took in one shuddering breath after the other, trying to calm down. He kept stroking the whole time, rolling his hips in a dizzying pattern. Thumb rubbing circles on your clit. You liked watching and feeling him slide in and out.

“Don’t look down there, baby. You look at me,” he said. His voice turned sharp, commanding your attention. You flicked your eyes to his while you breathed with him. Your breathing calmed down while pressure built in your lower belly. 

“Oh fuck, oh shit. Stunna. Fuck, fuck,” you moaned. 

“I know it. Keep breathing, keep breathing with me,” he said. 

Eyes locked. Huffing breaths escaping him. Sweat dripping off his forehead. You breathed with him. The pressure continued to build. Desire gripped your pussy in a strong vice. 

“I’m gonna cum,” Stunna whispered. His eyebrows furthered. “Fuck. Gonna cum. Pussy feelin’ good as hell.” He came with a pained moan, loudly, while you felt his dick twitch inside you. His hot cum painted your warm walls and you gripped him tighter. 

Your body exploded. You yelled out as you convulsed on his dick. You didn’t know what you looked like. Probably like a hot mess. But on the inside, fireworks popped behind your eyelids. You felt electric and out of control. Wild. Untamed. Far, far away, you heard Stunna speaking but you couldn’t make out what he was saying. Not over the sound of your blood rushing in your ears. The smell of coffee. And the curses flying from your mouth. 

When it was over, you stared at Stunna like he was a creature from another planet. He grinned with a wide, smug smile. “What I say about trusting your man?” He asked. 

You breathlessly giggled, rubbing sweat from your own forehead. That was…yeah, you’d sell your firstborn for another hit of that. Got damn. It was exactly as you had imagined it. All those songs, movies, and books were right. That felt so damn incredible. You looked at him with amazement. “I’m sorry, baby,” you said.

He rolled his hips, reminding you that he was still inside. His cum pumped out of you and you shivered. It was such a weird, wonderful feeling. 

“Wanna see if we can squeeze another one out of you?” 

“Fuck yes!” You yelled. You pulled him towards you by his neck, crashing your lips to his. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.” 

Stunna chuckled, kissing you back. “Ain’t gotta thank me. I love you so fucking much.” 

“Love you so fucking much.” He played with your body well into the night. Until you were both a sweaty, gross blend of flesh. The music played, ensnaring you both in a bubble you never wanted to leave. 

Even as the candle burned and the rain pounded heavily against the window, you only had eyes for Stunna. And he only had eyes for you.

The brain rot is real. The Secret Big Stunna Files

#Megaminds Secret Files #The Secret Big Stunna Files #Big Stunna x Black!reader #x Black reader #Big Stunna x Black reader #Big Stunna x Fem!reader #Big Stunna x Fem reader #x Fem reader #Big Stunna x plus size reader #Big Stunna x Demi!reader #x Demi reader #Demi reader #Big Stunna fanfic #Big Stunna fan fic #Big Stunna fanfiction #Big Stunna fan fiction #yahya abdul mateen ii #yahya abdul mateen ii fanfic #All Day and a Night fanfic #All Day and a Night fan fic #All Day and a Night fanfiction #All Day and a Night fan fiction #All Day and a Night #drug use #drug #drugs #cw drugs #weed #cw weed

[megamindsecretlair]

Wait For You

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

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. Smutm fluff, use of pet names, cursing, fingering, (female receiving) , established relationship, all consensual.

Summary: Daylight savings really kicked your ass. Getting home, Stunna has surprised you with breakfast for dinner and knows exactly what to do to make your night better.

Word Count: 2,092k

A/N: Enjoy another self-indulgent fic. After the BS I just witnessed with Watchman, I had to cleanse my brain with something cute and fluffy. 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 @sageispunk @ciaqui @yourofficialgal

Moodboard by the amazing @planetblaque , I love you so much 🥹

As soon as you closed the door behind you, you deflated against the door. Your shoulders sagged and your face dropped to its natural resting state. This daylight savings kicked your natural Black ass but you couldn’t let anyone see you deflate. You had to walk with your shoulders back, with a smile on your face so that you weren’t “threatening”. 

Fuck, you were tired of pretending. Your purse slid off of your shoulders just as the smell of pancakes hit your nose. You inhaled and heaved a sigh, like pushing the day off of your shoulders now that you were home and safe. Safe to be you, the real you.

“Baby?” You called out. You toed off your heels, sighing once more at the cool wood under your bare feet.

Stunna appeared in the doorway to the kitchen, towel slung over his wide shoulder and an apron around his slim waist. He smiled when he saw you, holding a mixing bowl and whisk. 

“I lost track of time. I thought I’d have these ready by the time you got home,” he said.

You threw your purse onto the couch and walked over to him, looking into the bowl. “I would’ve gotten dinner started,” you said. You pecked him on the cheek. Well, he had to lean down for you to do so and it was adorable every time he made the concession for you. 

“I heard how tired you were on the phone,” he said. 

Your heart swelled with love, so thick it made your heart beat double time to keep up. “What am I gon’ do with you?” You asked softly. 

Stunna’s eyes softened and he winked at you. “Why don’t you get out of them clothes. By the time you’re done I should be wrapping up,” he said. He kissed your temple and gestured for you to do as he said. 

“Yes, Sir,” you said, a playful grin hovering on your lips. He gave you a warning look, to not test him. But he only looked more adorable and you were getting a sugar high just being next to him.

You went to your room and shed off your clothes. Shed off the day and the bullshit from work. You hopped in the shower, letting the flaming hot water relax your muscles. You washed up quickly and got out, toweling yourself dry. Took your time with your smell goods. You threw on one of Stunna’s old navy T-shirts and nothing else, not trying to be bothered. 

You padded back into the kitchen just as Stunna flipped a pancake onto a waiting stack. Steam rose from the fluffy pancakes and your mouth watered. He smiled at you and gestured for you to sit, so you did. He took off the apron, back to his gray sweatpants and plum colored shirt.

“What you been up to all day?” You asked.

“Did your honey-do,” he said and chuckled. He loved calling it that, though it was him putting most of the items on it. In between running his empire, he was often home alone and able to pay more attention to things that needed fixing. He wasn’t that handy yet, but he was getting there. 

He brought the stack of pancakes over to you, plus some type of apple butter he found at the store that made you want to marry it. It was smooth and spread perfectly, melting into the bread and infusing it with even more deliciousness. You vowed to learn his secret one day.

He forked over two pancakes for you and four for himself. You got to work cutting it into squares, wiggling in your seat. Stunna chuckled and shook his head. “Tell me about work, baby,” he said. 

You told him. There wasn’t much to tell that you didn’t already recap during your afternoon break. You needed those little fifteen minutes to hear his voice. Sometimes, when you had a really shitty day, you paid particular attention to how he pronounced words. How his mouth moved and tongue rolled to make sounds that any human being could. But none did it like Stunna.

You were addicted to this man. And you weren’t trying to go to rehab. 

He listened to you recount the rest of your day. There was nothing particularly wrong about it. You were just a chronically sleepy baby forced to put on your big girl pants and go to work. You were meant to frolic around in a field, collecting berries, or weaving baskets. None of this daily grind bullshit. 

Stunna listened like it was the first time hearing it. He responded just like any of your friends would. Gasping and shaking his head, offering his two cents where it was warranted. You liked that you could gossip to him and he didn’t pretend to not be interested. He loved the office tea as much as you did.

As you spoke, you dug into his delicious food. It managed to be the right kind of fluffy, the kind that seemed to disappear as soon as it hit your tongue. You made sure to drizzle it with the proper amount of syrup, exactly to your liking. 

Before long, you were yawning and trying to keep up with the conversation. Spring Forward always seemed to attack you personally. Like something was altered in the makeup of your body with the seasonal change. You hated it. Your equilibrium was off. 

Stunna kissed your cheek and collected your plate. You knew better than to argue with the man in his dojo. The kitchen was sacred. Or he was king and the kitchen his castle. Whatever metaphor you settled on suited Stunna just fine. The point was, he was in charge and there was no way you were touching a shiny dish while he was around.

You suspected that he really just had an order to things and didn’t want you to disturb his flow. That was okay. 

Stunna hummed while he washed dishes and you took a moment to watch his broad shoulders work. The muscles in his arms jumping. The way his head tilted to the side sometimes while he focused in on wiping the plates and forks clean. He put the rest of the butter in the fridge and then grabbed your hand.

You smiled at him as he pulled you into a standing position. You whined a bit, feeling like a real baby. You didn’t even want to move. “Just to the bedroom and then you’re free to turn into a potato,” he said. 

“Fine,” you grumbled. He led you into the bedroom and closed the door. He turned on the TV and then discarded his sweats and shirt, leaving him in his briefs that clung to a gorgeous ass and muscular thighs. 

You hummed in appreciation, biting your lip as you watched him move. He grinned, showing off that perfect smile of his. You could live a thousand lifetimes with him and never get sick of appreciating his body. Appreciating him. He was just goodness through and through, until Big Stunna had to come out and be ruthless in the streets.

You were a little nervous to tell him, but that was when you were most attracted to him. When he got that serious look in his eye and handled business like a man. Wasn’t nothing sexier than a man you couldn’t tell what to do. 

He turned on the TV, shaking his head at your obvious ogling. He turned it to one of your favorite mindless programs. One of those shows that you could watch over and over and never get sick of. 

He got into bed first, scooting over to the middle and patted his thighs. “You know you don’t have to,” you said. Today had been shitty, but you knew how he got when he tackled the honey-do. He went after it like everything else he did, with a single minded focus that bordered on obsession. 

“Get yo sexy ass over here, girl,” he said.

You grinned. You didn’t have to be told twice. You hopped into bed on your stomach, sliding your legs over his and scooting backwards until your ass was high in the air in front of his face. You two adjusted yourselves, scooting and moving until you fit better against each other.

He turned the TV higher and handed you a pillow so that you could squish it under your chest. He had a light smattering of hair on his legs and you reached over to kiss his calf. 

“Thank you, baby,” he said. 

His hands moved to the back of your thighs, rubbing deep circles that brought moans to your lips. Your body relaxed inch by inch, melting into his strong, capable hands. Weariness leached out of your bones the more he rubbed on you, hands moving down to your calves.

“Ouuee,” you moaned, as his fingers hit a sensitive spot.

“Can’t be moaning like that,” he said, his slow drawl making you shiver. 

“Why not?” You asked, sleepily. 

“Gon’ fuck around and get this dick. But I know you tired.” It was almost worth it trying to wrestle up the energy to hop on his dick just because you never wanted to go a day without being filled up with him. 

But you didn’t have the energy to keep up with him tonight. One day, you’d have to look up how to increase your stamina that did not involve running. It was the exercise that most worked for your body type and it was the bane of your existence. 

He moved his big hands to your ass and that’s when you really moaned. He worked out kinks you didn’t know were there. You knew you needed to move more often at work, but when you were in the zone, you ignored everything else. Including bodily signals to take breaks and handle business. 

“Ouue, shit,” you moaned. His thumb pressed in one area that was like hitting the jackpot. Your eyes lazily rolled towards the back of your head as he worked out the knot. 

The more his hands moved, the wetter you got. You couldn’t help it. The minute he smiled in your direction, you were wet and willing for whatever he decided to dish out. But it wasn’t really about the sex. It was just him.

He had a type of natural charisma that could sell ice to a polar bear and make it think it got off with a deal. It was intoxicating watching him turn that charm on you with a simple act like making you breakfast for dinner. 

His fingers moved inward, circling just outside of your dripping entrance. “Hm, getting a little excited over here,” he said.

“A little,” you purred. 

“Mhm, I’ll take care of that,” he said. He swiped his fingers through your wetness, continuing to play with you while you watched TV with him. You both talked about the show, arguing the cases for your favorite characters.

He thought you were tripping to like the villain on the show. You thought he was nuts for not liking the villain. Like…how could he not? 

He argued his point of view, listing reasons why the villain was supposed to remain bad and not worthy of love. He continued to play with your pussy, pushing a finger inside of you. You gasped and groaned as he pumped his finger.

You still tried to make him see your side, your point, but hell, when he cheated like that you couldn’t form words. So you simply watched the moving pictures and stopped trying to fight your consciousness. You let it drift away. You let it drift away with Stunna’s fingers pumping into you and then moving out to play with your clit.

You hissed as he made contact, tracing tight little circles that drew whimpering cries from you. You only grew wetter, soaking his fingers without him being inside. 

The orgasm rolled through you gently, like the first break of dawn after a long night. That first crack of light rose over the horizon just as your orgasm rose over you in undulating waves. Your tender moans filled the room as you shook and throbbed. 

Sleep pulled at you as Stunna withdrew his fingers. The wet smacks of his lips as he licked his fingers made your pussy throb. Sleep fought harder. You relented, falling asleep to the feel of Stunna’s hands returning to your ass to work out a few more kinks and his sweet words of love filling your ears.

The end.

There's more Stunna to go around! The Secret Big Stunna Files

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

[megamindsecretlair]

Thinkin' 'Bout You, Part 3

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

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. Infidelity. TOXIC FILTH. PWP, cursing, PIV, oral (female receiving) teasing/mocking, cum play, spanking, dirty talk, degradation kink, breeding kink if you squint, all consensual. Use of n-word. Referring to female anatomy as "she".

Summary: As a sneaky link, Stunna is highly demanding of your time. He doesn't care if you get caught; when he wants you, he wants you. Your man takes you to a neighborhood block party that you're determined to have fun. That is, until you're introduced to Stunna and his wife.

Word Count: 8,379k

The Secret Big Stunna Files | Part 1 | Part 2

A/N: I'm sorry!!! I didn't intend for this to be so long. Let's all say thank you to @planetblaque who always helps me achieve greatness with these ideas. I had a really suck ass day and this healed me. LOL Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! And please put ages in bios! Or get blockt!

Taglist: @planetblaque @blackerthings @browngirldominion @we-outsiiiide @thecookiebratz @iv0rysoap @notapradagurl7 @sevikasblackgf @miyuhpapayuh @xo-goldengirl @kindofaintrovert @flydotty @judymfmoody @slippinninque @soufcakmistress @henneseyhoe @westside-rot

You haven’t seen Stunna in a little over two weeks. Lyin’ ass nigga. You were irritable and ornery. Your friends and your man noticed the difference in you and you blamed it on the planets. You blamed it on PMS. You blamed it on anything but that bum ass nigga who was just supposed to be a good time.

This nigga really had you checking your phone multiple times a day. Things between Malcolm and Stunna were ramping up. Both were on high alert and had been making moves on each side. You only knew this because your man was plugged into all that shit. He wasn’t a top dog but he wasn’t a corner boy either. 

He never mentioned Stunna by name but you knew that once you heard about Malcolm, Stunna was likely doing shit too. And fuck him, you missed him. 

You sucked your teeth for the hundredth time as you got ready for this funky ass block party. You were not in the mood to be around others nor were you into being shown around like a pony. It was the one area where you and your man did argue. It was like he was with you just to show his boys that he could get with you. Which was wild, because he wasn’t ugly. Not by a long shot. 

You finished with your hair and makeup and looked at your stank face in the mirror. This was such bullshit. Stunna was not your man. He had an entire wife that he was likely dicking down, cooking for, and showering with presents. The more you thought about it, the more you got mad irrationally. There was no way you were catching feelings for this nigga.

You were just addicted to his dick. Addicted to the way he held you like he loved you but fucked you like he hated you. Your man was too gentle for that and it was why you loved him. But why was it so hard to get fucked? 

Your pussy was mad. That’s what it was. Your pussy was calling the shots. “Guess what bitch, you belong to me,” you said. You took a deep breath and looked at yourself in the mirror.

“You are that bitch!” You told yourself. It sounded silly the first few times you tried this, but you found that the more you practiced, the more your brain listened and you truly felt like that bitch. You had two niggas sprung off of you. Not many could say that and not get caught up. 

You looked at your outfit on the bed. Some silly jeans and tank combo that would have looked great on you. You didn’t want to look great. You wanted to look fuckable. You had been telling yourself that time with Stunna was limited anyway. Stunna going silent on you was the best thing that could have happened. 

The trash took itself out and now you could focus on your man. Focus on getting him so hot and bothered that you cut out of the stupid ass block party early. You wanted him to be desperate to rip your clothes off. To push past that little hint of shyness he clung to in the bedroom. 

You flipped through your closet as your man came into the room. “Is you ready yet?” He asked.

“Not yet. Changed my mind on my outfit,” you said.

“Gah damn! You been getting ready all day!” He said. He sucked his teeth and went back to his phone. Always on his damn phone. If he wasn’t so shy, you’d swear that he was cheating. He had the better morals of you two. And you would not pick an imaginary fight just because you were missing dick that was never yours to begin with. 

You walked over to him in your dark silky panties and pressed your chest against his clothed one. “We could always stay home and have some fun,” you said. You rubbed his arms and he let out a slow breath.

“Fuck, don’t do this to me,” he said. He kissed your cheek. “I would love to take care of that. But if I don’t show my face, I ain’t family. And you do not wanna know how these niggas treat you when you ain’t family,” he said. 

You rolled your eyes and peeled yourself off of him. “Come on, babe, don’t do that,” he pleaded. 

He stepped forward but you lifted a hand. “Bye nigga, let me finish getting ready,” you said. You wouldn’t look at him until he sucked his teeth and went back out into the living room. You closed the door behind him with a sigh. 

Was there a way to combine your man and Stunna? Stunna’s desperate neediness and your man’s quiet consideration? You liked cuddles and shit, being wrapped up in your man’s arms. But you also liked getting the coins knocked out of you. 

Decisions, decisions. Maybe it was time to move on from your man. You hated to have to kick him out. You couldn’t afford this place on your own and you doubted that you’d find a new man willing to pay all your bills and not wanna move in. You loved Nandi but you could not have her as a roommate. Shit. 

Now you were back in a funk as you searched through your clothes. Hanger after hanger and none of the shit felt right. Looked right. If your man didn’t want to suck the jelly out of your pussy, then you would make that nigga jealous. Make sure everyone else at the block party was thirsting after you whether they had someone or not. 

Your hand stopped on a bodycon dress. Army green and ribbed. Halter neckline. Ouuu. You stared at it. You were supposed to wear this around Stunna. You used the money he gave you to buy yourself a number of dresses, sexy panties, and a few pairs of shoes. Things that you could take pictures of yourself in or have him appreciate for half a second before he was lowering you on his dick. 

Well, the nigga ain’t come around. And was your life supposed to stop simply because he couldn’t be bothered to text? All that “miss you so much baby, can’t wait to get in that pussy baby” shit was all a fucking lie. 

Your phone chimed from your dresser. You lifted the dress out of your closet and brought it over to the mirror. You placed it in front of you to see how your body was looking and if you wanted to wear it. You peeped your phone.

Satan: where you at, babygirl? 💦

You: 

You stared at the screen debating if you should answer or not. This was your big chance to end it for good. He couldn’t have possibly thought that you were going to come running whenever he snapped his fingers. Or in this case, hit you up like everything was fine. 

He had you out here acting out of character for dick. It was good dick, mind you. Phenomenal dick. But not enough to make you forget who the fuck you were. 

You: out.

The three dots on your screen started up immediately and you muted his conversation. The nigga could be mad. At the end of the day, he didn’t know where you were and he wasn’t going to show up while your man was here. Stunna was a lot of things, but stupid wasn’t one of them. 

You grinned as you threw on the dress, feeling immediately sexy in it. You bought it with money that wasn’t yours and you looked incredible in it. Your ass was fat and you played with your butt, looking back at yourself in the mirror to watch it jiggle. All you were missing was Megan Thee Stallion pumping through your speaker. 

However, your man nixed that while you were getting ready. You typically wouldn’t let a man tell you what to do, but he did make sense. When the queen was on, it added at least one more hour to you getting ready. 

You bent over in your closet to find some all white sneakers you could throw on. You had an anklet that you got on a girl’s trip to New Orleans and you wrapped the shiny green beads around your right ankle. 

You found a shredded jean jacket in your closet and tossed it on. Looking at yourself in the mirror, you looked good and felt good. Your hair was in an updo and doing what it do nicely. Your makeup was flawless. You felt so pretty. Fuck all these niggas.

Weak as you were though, you couldn’t help flipping your phone back over to see the dozens of texts from Stunna.

Satan: out where?

Satan: baby?

Satan: You see me texting yo ass.

Satan: I know I been gone, but cmon

Satan: really? This what we doin’?

Satan: out where? 

He began to call you by your name in the thread, getting more and more agitated the longer he didn’t receive a response. Good. Let the brat know how it feels to be ignored. Let’s not forget, he was not your man. 

You left the room, putting your phone in your pocket. “Okay, ready,” you said. Your man got off of the couch and that damn phone. He whistled as he looked at your outfit. 

“Damn, you look good!” He said.

“Yeah, I know,” you said. You opened the front door and descended the steps. It was a nice, breezy night for once. The heat from earlier didn’t want to lose its grip, so it was a welcome change to the unseasonable chill. 

“C’mon girl, you gon’ be mad at me all night?” He asked.

“Maybe,” you said. You folded your arms across your chest and waited for him to lock up behind you. You weren’t really that upset that he didn’t want to stay home instead. It was that at the end of the day, he was always going to run behind his friends than cater to you.

Women were always expected to drop everything for their man. To fall on the proverbial sword time and time again to lift him up to greatness. Where were the niggas that…liked women? 

Niggas fuck with women, tough. It’s some type of rite of passage to get a girlfriend, treat her nice, get some loving. But it was always an argument outside of that. Where to eat, what to do. And when you made a fuss that you actually had interests that did not involve watching niggas play 2k with their boys on the mic, suddenly you were nagging too much and needed to go sit down.

The system was fucking broken. Niggas got their freedom and acted the fuck up. You knew it wasn’t all niggas. But you were damn tired of searching through the haystack for a good needle.

Finished, he moved beside you and grabbed your hand. You snatched it back and took off down the street. The block party wasn’t too far so you didn’t have to worry about sweating out your hair and makeup. But it was a brisk walk that you set. Maybe the exercise would burn off this lingering pressure.

Pressure that felt like you were going to combust from not getting some dick. Not even your man touched you. Because you were in such a pouty mood over Stunna’s dumb ass. 

The further you walked, you heard music and laughter. Seasoned aromas from the grill made your mouth water as you thought of what you would get. Some ribs? Chicken? You couldn’t decide as your stomach rumbled letting you know that it was past time to eat. 

Your man put his arm around you, pretending to his boys that all was fine and that you were the love of his life. Sometimes you don't feel like it. You let him though. It was easier than listening to him bitch and complain later that night. 

The party seemed to ramp up as true night made everyone relax and hang out. The music was thumping and people were greeting each other, playing spades in the corner, or talkin’ shit. You spotted Nandi and Brooke over by the drinks and you kissed your man’s cheek and told him where you were going. 

“Girl, what’s wrong with you now?” Brooke asked.

“What are you talking about?” You asked. You grabbed some Hennessy off of the table and poured a generous amount. You took a sip, letting the sweet cognac burn your throat. 

“Yo ass always got a damn attitude now, snapping at people and shit.” Nandi held her hand out for the Henny and you handed it to her. 

“I just be going through shit!” You said. You sipped more and the alcohol slowly worked through your system. Your shoulders loosened up and you swayed to the music. You may have drunk it a little too fast, but that was okay. You’ll get something to eat and it'll balance itself out. 

“Shit like what?” Nandi asked. 

You felt cornered by your girls and you eyed them both. The urge to spill everything was strong. Strong enough that you even opened your mouth but you resisted at the last moment. You sipped your drink and looked around for the food. 

“Just shit,” you sighed.

Brooke looped her arm through yours and you walked as a trio towards the food. Heavenly aromas of chicken and ribs made your mouth water. The mac n cheese was almost gone so you knew it must’ve been fire. 

“You gotta stop keeping stuff bottled up inside. That’s why ya ass mad all the time,” Nandi said.

“Mhm, that’s right. You know we got you!” Brooke said and shook you. You giggled even though you weren’t truly up to it. You didn’t want them to worry about you. 

“I’m fine, I promise. I’m just sick of my man sometimes,” you confessed. There, they could chew on that. 

“You know he treat you good, which is rare these days,” Brooke said.

“Preach on it!” Nandi raised her hand as if she was in church and agreed. You giggled and shook your heads at them. It was hard to be in a pissy mood when they were around. 

You had managed to avoid checking your phone all night. You were sure Stunna sent all kinds of nasty messages calling you out of your name. Not knowing what he said was giving you a power trip. He could have gone radio silent. He could be fuming. The world would never know.

For the first time in two weeks, that boulder on your back felt lighter. You grinned at your friends, letting the alcohol give you a bit of “fuck it” attitude. Your man dragged you to this bullshit but that didn’t mean you couldn’t have fun.

“Uh oh, we in trouble,” Brooke said. 

Nandi called you by your nickname, the one that meant no responsibilities. Or a fake name you gave to dusty niggas who were only entertaining for an hour. You grabbed a plate of food, the steam reaching through the styrofoam plate. 

You sat and chit-chatted with your girls, cleaning your plate clean. Then you grabbed another drink and headed to the middle of the street, singing and rapping along to the current song. 

You had drawn a small crowd, people following your lead to dance. A circle formed with people taking turns showing off their moves. Choruses of “ayes” and “okays” were chanted in unison, turning it into a giant communal experience. 

Someone tapped on your shoulder and you turned to see your boyfriend. “Hey baby!” You said. You threw your hands around his neck and kissed him sloppily. He kissed you back, chuckling at your changing attitude. 

“Feelin’ good off that drink, huh?” He asked. 

“Real good,” you slurred slightly. Your eyes were half mast and you were swaying to the music. You were glad you wore sneakers. Trying to be cute while gone on the drink was not a sexy combination. 

“Come on, I want you to meet some of my peoples,” he said. 

You sighed and stomped your foot. “But I’m having fun!” You said. 

“I know, I’m sorry. It’s real quick, I promise,” he said. He kissed your cheek and you groaned. 

“Fine,” you said. You told your girls that you’d be right back and they better hold your spot. They giggled and agreed, telling you to hurry back.

Your man held your hand as you walked onto the sidewalk. You walked towards a couple. There was a plump woman with beautiful curly hair, a dark pink shirt and leggings. The man wore a gray Henley with the top two buttons undone. The sleeves were pulled up on his forearms. A gold chain sparkled every so often as the street lamps hit it.

“Baby, this is LaTrice and her husband Big Stunna,” your man said.

Your breath seized in your chest. You would have coughed if you had any air in your lungs. Your lips stretched into a smile as you shook hands with LaTrice. “Nice to meet you,” you said. 

It was only by experience and repetition that made you recite the words automatically. She smiled at you. “I love your hair,” you said and grinned. 

“Thank you! I love yours!” She said. 

Stunna’s hand was warm in yours. Even smack in the middle of your significant others, he held on a second too long. “Nice to meet you too,” you said. You kept eye contact with him to a minimum.

The alcohol in your gut turned sour as you ran your tongue across your teeth. Your heart beat thundered in your chest. Your man pulled you into his side and you wrapped your arm around his middle and damn near leaned your head on his shoulder.

“We know each other from way back on the block. LaTrice didn’t play that shit. You weren’t gonna bully her,” your man was saying.

“Damn right. Fuck anyone who try,” she said. She fist-bumped your man and you smiled. 

“You must have embarrassing stories about him from way back when,” you said. As long as you focused on LaTrice, you were okay. You were vibrating with energy. There was unrestrained anger, irrational jealousy, and outright longing. You just wanted to sink into Stunna’s arms and breath in his delicious cologne. 

He looked damn, fucking good too. That Henley and chain combo was doing wonders on your body. Hearing him laugh was making your pussy throb and thighs clench. You crossed your legs and then immediately uncrossed them. You didn’t want Stunna to get the wrong impression. 

LaTrice pulled a few stories out about your man and you teased him, throwing extras on it. You poked at his cheek and hip bumped him. You squeezed his cheeks and planted a little kiss there at all the stories LaTrice told you.

You weren’t doing it to make Stunna mad. Okay, you weren’t only doing it to make Stunna mad. You were a little too gone, tipsy on its way to drunk, and you couldn’t help feeling up on him. You damn sure couldn’t do it to Stunna. 

“So what do you do?” Stunna asked you.

You were forced to look at him. The venom in his eyes could fell a horse. You swallowed a painful lump in your throat and you cleared it by drinking more. Stunna brought his own cup to his face. 

He threw his arm around LaTrice and hugged her close. You explained your shit job and downplayed the description. It wasn’t a glamorous job and it didn’t really matter because he already knew this shit. 

Fucking bastard. You licked your lips and tangled your hand with your mans. “Baby, I need another drink,” you said. 

Your man looked like he wanted to die. As if you were committing some kind of grievous sin by asking for a drink around Stunna. Yeah, yeah, you knew the mu’fucka was important. Didn’t mean shit. Your other personality was out tonight and she was still in “fuck it” mode. 

“Ya’ll have a good evening,” Stunna said. His eyes were for you though. He was not smiling. You smiled sweetly. 

“It was great meeting you both!” You said. You turned away with your man and walked down the street toward the drink table.

“Yo, what the fuck?” Your man asked, as soon as you were out of earshot of Stunna and his wife. 

“What?” You asked. 

You poured yourself some more drink. As you did, your traitorous eyes went in search of Stunna. He was already facing you. He had positioned himself to stand facing the street. His boys were talking to him, but he was drinking from his red cup and eyeing you.

You turned away to look at your man, already sipping your own drink. Maybe you could drink enough to bypass the horny. You were already planning to ambush your man after this was over and finally get some dick. But after seeing Stunna…

“You know what! I’m trynna introduce you to my world and you off being rude and shit. Those people are important! You can’t just worry ‘bout yourself when they around!” 

You waved your hand at him. “Back up, nigga and quit talkin’ to me like that,” you said. “I don’t give a fuck who it is!” 

“You need to. Because all that money you like spending? Come from him,” he said.

Your face split open and you started to snicker. Stunna was paying for your lifestyle twice. It really shouldn’t be funny. You did really feel bad about stepping out on your man. There was no excuse for it. 

But your man just had no fucking idea. You looked back towards Stunna who was still watching you like a hawk. You leaned closer to your man. “You know I appreciate everything you do for me, baby,” you said.

You tried to kiss his cheek to put on a good show for Stunna. Your man moved his cheek at the last moment. “I fuckin’ hate when you get drunk,” he said. 

“I just fuckin’ hate you. You bummy ass nigga,” you said. 

“You just get mean. You can’t handle that shit. You need to figure out why you chasin’ that shit so hard,” he said.

“Say another fuckin’ word,” you said. Your words were slow and measured. 

“You’re a mean ass drunk!” He said. 

You laughed and got closer to him. “Don’t bring yo ass home tonight,” you said. You walked away, walking back over to your girls and the music. You were out of Stunna’s eyesight. You were burning.

Fire danced just beneath your skin. The Henny made a dangerous cocktail in your gut. You were horny as hell, pussy throbbing and aching just from looking at Stunna. But you were also mad as hell. Why were you trying so hard to make this shit work with your man?

You were clearly total opposites. Wanting different things. Hell, he looked dead at yo ass in your panties and no bra and thought, “Time to go be with my niggas.” What? All this ass and…nothing? 

You told your friends what happened and a chorus of, “Fuck that nigga” rang out. You agreed. But it did nothing to put out the fire inside you. 

You just needed relief! You needed that sweet relief that came from a thorough claiming. You were sweating as if you ran a marathon but you refused to take off your jacket. You didn’t want Stunna walking by to stare at what wasn’t his.

You sighed as you pulled out your phone.

Satan: OH, like that?

Satan: You gon’ wear the dress I got you for that nigga? Kissin’ on him all in my fucki’n face??

Satan: Just ain’t gon’ answer me, now? That’s what we doin’? 

You put the phone away and focused on your girls. You were going to have fun and that was all there was to it. The music turned up louder, the circle still going. You hopped in the middle and began to twerk, shaking your ass and putting the bodycon to good use. You knew your ass was jiggling in all of the right ways. 

When you left the circle, your eyes immediately found Stunna. He was standing with LaTrice with his arm around her and sipping out of his red cup. You wiped the sweat from your brow and rolled your eyes.

Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. 

You cheered your girls on as they danced but you were starting to get woozy from the drink. You stumbled over to the drink table, grabbing some water. 

“Say what’s up shawty.” You looked up and scrunched up your face. A dusty mu’fucka dared to talk to you. His teeth were yellow and stained brown, crooked, and his nose went in the opposite direction of where it should be. His outfit was a size too big, hanging off of his thin frame. 

“The sky, nigga,” you said and sucked down the water. 

He sucked his teeth and called you a bitch. Whatever. You stumbled closer to the nearest house so you could lean against it. Your eyes were crossing. The ground was spinning beneath you. You put the cool water bottle against your forehead. 

“Shit,” you groaned. You did drink too much. Henny always made you act the fuck up. And you always regretted it. And yet, when you went out to a function again, Henny was the first thing you reached for. 

You took deep breaths until the lights stopped spinning in front of you. You lost track of Stunna. Wherever he was, you knew he was wrapped around LaTrice. You had no right to be jealous but you were. You wanted to be tucked under his arm. Shown around by him.

It was corny when your man did it but if Stunna did it, you’d preen and giggle like a schoolgirl. 

You stood up, ready to head back to your girls when something gripped your hand and yanked. You took a deep breath, ready to scream. 

“Shhhh,” Stunna said. His other hand covered your mouth to prevent you from screaming and giving yourself away. 

He pulled you in between houses, past the gated fence, and into a random neighbor’s backyard. There was a tiny shed back there with a door already propped open. You struggled against Stunna’s hold but he held firm. 

He tossed you inside the shed and you stumbled over boxes and knick knacks on the ground. There was a table in the back filled with various tools. Stunna closed the door, shrouding you in total darkness. 

“Turn on the light,” you said.

“No. Fuck you think you doin’?” He asked. 

You could only rely on your intuition and the scent of his cologne as he crowded your space. “Move nigga!” You screamed, pushing against his chest. He barrelled forward until your ass pressed against the table.

“You don’t answer my fuckin’ text messages and then you show up here with that nigga?” He asked.

“That nigga is my man! You are not!” You pushed against him again, but your mind was back to swirling. Tipping. It was somehow worse in the dark. Robbed of sight to keep your equilibrium, the ground felt shakier than ever. 

“Fuck that and you know it!” He yelled. 

“Fuck you, Stunna! You’re here with your whole ass wife! What, you was gon’ fuck me on your way to the block party? Make LaTrice sit out in the car while I suck your dick?” 

You placed your hands behind you, to steady yourself on the table. It was still in use so it wasn’t overly dusty, but it was still gross. You hated this. You hated being so near him and couldn’t claim him. Couldn’t name these feelings inside.

“And if I did? Your little ass belong to me,” he said. His hand found your throat and you hated how you responded. Hated that your eyes crossed and thighs clenched. 

“I don’t belong to shit,” you said. 

“Mhm, bet you if I lift this dress, that pussy gon’ be singing for me,” he said. He brought his lips close to yours but didn’t kiss you. He smelled like he drank just as much as you did tonight. 

Your hands gripped his wrist. His smooth skin was hot to the touch. “Stunna, this is fucked up,” you said.

“You sayin’ I’m lying?” His lips moved against yours as he spoke. He was so damn close. He breathed out and you breathed in. It made it dirtier and naughtier that you couldn’t see him. 

“Tell me I’m lyin’ and I’ll leave this mu’fucka right now. Tell me you ain’t fuckin’ dripping under that sexy ass dress. Shaking that ass that’s meant for me. You know I’on like that shit,” he whispered. 

“This is my dress, Stunna.” You couldn’t do it. You couldn’t even lie. “Where’s LaTrice?” 

“Answer my fuckin’ questions!” He slammed the table behind you and you flinched away. He still held you by the throat so you couldn’t escape him. Lord above help you, but you were even wetter. 

“I’m not answering shit, nigga!” You yelled. 

He chuckled and a fan of sweet alcohol fell across your face. He finally kissed you roughly, pressing his lips to yours enough to bend your head back painfully. You melted instantly, moaning and leaning into the kiss.

He pulled away just as roughly and sneered. “Tell me you want me to rock that shit,” he said. He placed his forehead against yours and breathed for a few moments.

You wished you could see his face. You wished you could see him in the light of day. But it would always be sneaking around with him.

“Fuck you, Stunna,” you said. You reached down to feel his chest. Lowered your hand until you were cupping him. He groaned from the contact. He was already so long and thick. His erection was straining against his jeans and you moaned. 

He began to kiss you again, moving his hand from your throat. He gripped and squeezed your booty, molding his big hands to the globe of your ass. You moaned, finally feeling some kind of comfort. Some kind of proof that you meant something to somebody. 

His tongue was thick against yours, exploring every corner of your mouth. You heated up for entirely different reasons. He moaned into the kiss, stepping closer. His erection pressed against your belly and you moaned.

Your pussy already clenched, thinking of that dick sliding inside of you. 

As he kissed you, his hands slid your dress up. You helped him and moaned when cold air hit your legs. He moved his hands beneath your panties, growling at finding it wet. “Knew yo ass was fuckin’ soaked.” 

“You know Henny makes me horny,” you said.

“I make you fuckin’ horny. Quit playin’ with me,” he said.

“Know your lane,” you said. He chuckled and kissed you again, sweet this time. You didn’t want sweet. You bit his lip and he hissed, jerking back from you.

He was right back to kissing you with more force. He lifted you and helped you sit on the table. You dangled off of the edge. He scooted in between your legs. “My lane is between these thighs. My lane is making you scream my name while I’m in that shit,” he whispered against your lips. He trailed kisses down your neck. He unzipped his pants and lowered them, scooting you closer to the edge.

He placed his mouth over your titty through the fabric and he bit down enough to tug on your nipple. “Oh fuck!” 

He pulled your panties to the side and then you were gasping at the fullness of him. The sheer magnitude of being filled with him. This was also a new position for you. He had bent you in so many ways before, but it was never this intimate. This close. Pressed chest to chest and breathing each other in. 

He began to rock inside of you, pulling all the way out and then slamming back in. “Daddy’s sorry,” he said. 

“Fuck!” You cried out. Your thighs tingled as you locked them around his waist. He pressed sweet kisses to your forehead, cheeks, and lips. You held on to his shoulders because right now, that was the only solid thing for you. In the darkness, you didn’t know which way was up or down. There was just him. 

“I know this little attitude is because you’re mad at me. Because I promised to deliver and I dipped. I had to take care of some business but I won’t be gone that long no more,” he said. 

As he spoke, he rammed inside of you, sliding with ease aided by your horniness and the alcohol. 

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

How did he make every glide seem different? Every hip thrust a different word, every groan a different tune? You felt weightless, gone off of the Henny as you were, but you were also attuned to everything he was doing. Moving. Saying.

“I can. And I’m sayin’ I’m sorry. That Daddy gon’ stick around and take care of his princess,” he said. 

You moved your hands down to press against his chest. He knew he was swinging too much dick to be going at this type of pace. He moved your hand and placed it behind you, using force to keep your hand where he wanted it. 

“Fuck you, I got a man,” you said. Stunna switched up his strokes so that he seemed to hit deeper and you cried out, throwing your head back.

“Yeah, me,” he said. He pressed his lips against yours and you were both fighting for control. Fighting with wet, sloppy kisses to see who would win out on top. Mama ain’t raise a quitter, so even as he tried his hardest to make you fold, you wouldn’t.

Not until he gave up control of your hands and brought those long fingers to your clit. You were already coasting close to your orgasm but you were holding it at bay. Too focused on making him see that you didn’t belong to each other. 

He hissed and moaned when he made contact and you were gone, clutching to him and screaming out your orgasm.

“Say my name, baby. I’m the one making you feel this,” he said. He continued to flick your clit as you convulsed and broke. Shattered. 

“Fuck! Stunna!” You finally relented. Let him have this fucking victory. Let him have it all. If only he could keep doing this. Keep bringing you to the edge over and over again and letting you fall over it safely into his arms. 

“Sound so pretty when you cum. Daddy gon’ make it up to you. Can you get away tonight?” 

You shouldn’t. You really shouldn’t. But your other persona was still out, still riding the drink, so you nodded. “I’ll have the house to myself,” you said. 

He continued to ram into you chasing his own pleasure while you were still trying to recover from yours. He kissed you, sloppy again until he was moaning and releasing inside of you. He pumped a few more times as if he wanted to keep it all in there with just the power of his dick.

You giggled a bit and stilled, dick convulsing. “What’s so funny?” 

You goofily told him and he chuckled, kissing your forehead. “Goofy ass. I’ll see you in an hour,” he said. He kissed you as he slipped out of you. He kissed you while he zipped himself back up. He kissed you while he moved your panties and helped you off of the table. 

He cupped your face in his warm hands and kissed you, tongue licking your lips. “An hour,” he said.

“Yeah, yeah, hurry up,” you said. 

He left first, slipping out of the shed and back into the thunderous noise of the party. You stayed behind, five minutes and then ten minutes. You were still trying to catch your breath. Still trying to piece yourself back together after finally getting what you wanted. 

At what cost though?

When you were sure that you could walk without falling, you left the shed and closed the door behind you. The party was starting to wind down anyway. Your friends were dancing on random men so you didn’t bother saying bye. You didn’t see your man either. Good fucking riddance. Asshole.

You walked home in a dreamy haze, the alcohol still buzzing through your veins. You overindulged, that was on you. But you were also finally getting a night with Stunna. An entire night where you could find and lose each other’s bodies over and over again. 

Making it home, you entered the house and locked it behind you. You had some time before Stunna showed up, so you stripped down to your bra and panties, threw on some good R&B music, and dipped into your personal stash of Hennessy.

You were swaying to the music when you heard the soft knock on your back door. You crept to it and peeked behind the curtain. Stunna stood there in all his glory, that Henley was still doing wonders on you even though you already got your orgasm. 

As soon as you let him in, he grabbed the drink from your hand and shot it back. “I could have poured you one,” you said. 

“What’s yours is mine,” he said.

You rolled your eyes. He was still trying to push that he was your man. Despite showing his wife all around the block. But you weren’t here to argue. You weren’t here to lie. 

You walked into his arms and tilted your head up. He grinned, wrapping his hands around your waist, fingers sliding down to grip your ass. “You forgive me?” He asked.

“Nope. I’m trynna see what apology dick feel like,” you said. He laughed, throwing his head back. You cherished the sight. 

He swayed to the music, dancing with you. You put your head on his chest and rocked with him. The music filled you up like water pouring from a cup. But there was a deep urge, a yearning to consume him. 

You pulled him by the hand towards the back bedroom. You had kept all the lights off in the house. Not that you were trying to hide what was going on in here, by much. But you had found something in the darkness with him and you wanted to know if it was still there. 

In the bedroom, moonlight slanted through your blinds illuminating part of the bed. Stunna was mostly in shadow as he stood beside you. Part of his face was brightened by the moonlight and you took a moment to breathe him in. Take your time. If one night was all you had like this, then you wanted to make it last.

“Apology dick huh?” He asked.

You nodded. “I kinda like you sayin’ sorry for once,” you said. 

He laughed and pulled you closer, wrapping his hands around you once more. He kissed you and nibbled on your lips. “I am very, truly, deeply sorry,” he said. He slowly pronounced each word so there was no confusion.

He cupped your cheeks and kissed both sides, both of your eyes, across your forehead, and finished on your lips. He kissed both of your hands, bringing it to his lips with a quiet sigh. He dropped down to his knees and kissed your bare tummy, lips tickling you as he spoke. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for making you worry.” 

He pulled your panties down and helped you step out of them. He kissed your thighs and then gently pushed you onto the bed. You sat down and he grabbed your feet, fiddled with your anklet with a smile and then planted soft kisses there and then rubbed them.

You moaned and closed your eyes. You didn’t think that your feet hurt all that much. You wore comfortable sneakers. But his thumb pressed into your arch and your back curved, thrusting your titties out. 

He spread your legs and then set to work taking off his shirt. He kneeled closer, breathing deeply. His tongue darted out and began to lick and tease your entrance. He used his hands to spread you open, bare yourself in the most primal of ways.

He glanced up at you and you grinned at him. He then got to work eating you out like it was his entire reason for breathing. His lips teased your clit. His tongue darted in and out of your entrance. You were a moaning, crooning, sloppy mess under his masterful tongue. 

Your fingers slid into his hair and tugged and pulled as you licked your dry lips and caved to the unrelenting pleasure. He made out with your pussy. So much so, you half thought you were intruding on a private moment. 

You sat up a little to look at him at work. It was like he was praying between your thighs. On his knees, devoted to your pleasure. He worshiped at your altar, moaned hymns into your pussy, and gave offerings with his tongue.

One of his hands left you and you heard his zipper get pulled down. He moaned and the vibrations tickled your clit. His arm jerked as he pleasured himself while he made out with your pussy.

Your pussy fluttered and a moment later, you were clinging to his head as you smashed your pussy into his face, cumming without abandon. You screamed and cried out, shaking and trembling with pleasure.

Stunna stood up, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. His chain looked damn good around his throat. He stepped out of his shoes, pants, and briefs. He made you sit up so he could take your bra off.

“Forgive me?” He asked.

“I ain’t heard no apology,” you mumbled. 

“Like that?” He asked. “Yo little bratty ass get on my fuckin’ nerves.” He smiled but you knew that you really did get on his fuckin’ nerves. It should make you want to behave. He was really good when you behaved. 

Before you could respond, he grabbed your ankles and yanked you further down the bed. You yelped and giggled as his gaze turned feral. His eyes were drooping, smiling out the corner of his mouth. 

He pulled your legs up higher to rest on his shoulders. Your toes barely reached behind his neck. He lined himself up dipping into your pussy once, twice, and then slammed in on the third one.

“Shit!” You yelled. You dug your elbows into the mattress to try and get up. He held firm to your thighs. 

Then he pushed forward, your knees grazing your chest. You heaved but couldn’t find enough air. “St-Stu-” 

“I missed you too, baby. Now accept my goddamn apology,” he said. He rammed inside you. 

Your eyes crossed and your body drooped down onto the bed, all the fight leaving you. He smacked your face, a tiny sting bringing you back to the present. “You gon’ accept my apology?”

“Nuh,” you moaned. He couldn’t expect you to speak while he had you in this position. He already fit snug as a bug, but now he felt even tighter. Your pussy sucked him in and didn’t let go. Didn’t want to let him go. 

He had to feel the quake in your thighs. See the desperation on your face. The way you gasped and wailed for air. 

“Grippin’ the fuck outta this dick. Fuck! Missed this fuckin’ pussy. Daddy missed the fuck outta this pussy,” he moaned. 

Tears sprang to your eyes as you needed air but needed to cum even more. He pushed forward still, rutting inside of you. His chain bounced on his chest with the force of his thrusts. Your legs had no choice but to bend and open wide to accommodate him. He pushed your thighs as far back as they could go. Damn near touching the bed.

Stunna moved his face towards your titties, suckling them into his mouth and pulling.

“Stunna! Stunna! Fuck, that shit hurt!” You yelled. Hurt and felt so good, so magical. The bite of pain was its own shot of alcohol. He lifted his head and watched your eyes get watery. 

“Accept my fuckin’ apology,” he said.

“No-o,” you moaned. 

He increased the pressure of his thrusts, slamming into you with force. You scooted up the bed with each intense stroke. Pressure built up in your hips. Your hearing went out one ear. A tinny ring fought for dominance in your mind but you could only focus on that elusive feeling. 

That whisper of an orgasm. The calm before the storm. 

His balls slapped your ass. Your essence pooled out of you and soaked your thighs. Made a mess on the sheets. His grunting joined the fray. The moonlight caught glimpses of his sweat pouring down his face.

“You ain’t gettin’ this nut till you accept my goddamn apology,” he said. He started to slow down, slowing his strokes but they were no less powerful. That whisper was starting to drift on the wind.

“Wait!” You said. 

“Yo hungry ass want this nut, don’t you?” He asked.

“Yes!” 

“Been needin’ this nut so you can act right, huh?” His hips dipped with his stroke and you moaned.

“Yes! Fuck!” You cried and bounced on his dick, needing him to go faster. He was already impossibly deep, the Henny making him last longer like a little demon. 

“You gon’ answer my texts?” He asked.

“Stunna, please, baby. Please! I’ll be good,” you whined. You didn’t know how the balance of power shifted. You didn’t know where you lost him. Perhaps he was just out of apologies to dole out, not used to the word falling from his lips. 

He slipped out of you and you cried out, reaching for his hands to pull him back towards you. He grinned evilly and stroked himself a few times before joining you on the bed. 

He laid down on his side and then pulled your right leg up. His right arm came around to keep it up. Satisfied that you would keep your leg in the air, he grabbed his dick and slapped it against your pussy.

The wet smacks and hint of pain made you moan and bite your lip. “You gon’ answer my texts,” he said, his voice raspy and low. He slid inside you and you groaned. 

His arm came up to pinch your nipples, tugging on them as he started to move faster, slide in deeper. He pulled a little too hard and you cried. “Yes! Daddy, fuck! Yes, I’ll answer your texts!” 

“All of my texts. Don’t you ever leave me on read again,” his pants blew across your ears as he slammed inside of you. He moaned and groaned, couldn’t help his dick from burrowing inside you and carving a space with his name on it. 

“I won’t!” You moaned.

He moved his hand to your mouth, pushing three fingers inside. You happily sucked on his fingers, your head growing fuzzier. 

“Shh, Daddy’s talkin’,” he said. 

Your wet gulps and moans quieted down as he kept going. “You’re my fuckin’ bitch. And when I wanna get in this pussy, ain’t shit you can do to stop me. If I wanna fuck you before a party and got LaTrice outside in the whip, the fuck you gon’ do?” 

Oh god. You were on that precipice again. Your lower belly ached. Pussy throbbed. Talk of his wife waiting outside while he fucked you stupid should not turn you on. And yet you were leaping off of the cliff.

Your body was soaring, flying, so high in the sky that you couldn’t see the bottom anymore. He moved his fingers away so he could hear your cursing, moaning, and screaming as you flooded his dick with your essence. Your whole body shook and convulsed. 

Stunna wrapped his hand around your throat and thrust in earnest. You thought he was already hitting your shit, but he got up on his elbow and thrust as if there was no end in sight. As if you could consume him. Gobble him up. 

“Accept my fuckin’ apology,” he screamed in your ear.

“I forgive you!” You managed to say around the hand on your throat. 

Like it was the starting whistle, Stunna moaned and pushed inside, climaxing. His eyes rolled back, mouth open wide, as a shiver overtook him. Like he had been tense these past two weeks, bottled up, and found heaven as he came.

“Sheeit,” you whined as you felt his dick pulse and stuff you to the brim. 

Stunna shook himself and slipped out, lifting up higher so he could watch his cum slip out. “Goddamn, babygirl,” he said. His cum continued to leak out and he groaned, pushing himself back in.

“St-Stunna!” You cried.

“I know baby, I can’t help it,” he said. He kissed your cheek and moved down to your neck, sucking on the tender meat.

Stunna eventually stilled, slipping back out and laying back against the sheets. The moonlight hit him just so and you sighed, both at the picture and the intense moment. 

You couldn’t move. You were blissfully fucked out, pleasantly sore, and so deliriously happy you had no words. 

Stunna stared at the ceiling with you, too busy gasping for air to say much of anything as well.

The moment didn’t need words. It transcended them. You always thought it was bullshit that you shared energy when you had sex. The shit just always felt good. But with Stunna, it was incredible. Mind-blowing. There was definitely a give and take of energies. You just weren’t sure what you would gain from him or what he took from you.

Stunna snaked his hand down towards you to tangle his hand with yours. You smiled as sleep tugged at you. Your blinks slowed until your eyelids were practically stuck together. You fell asleep to the soothing snores of Stunna.

The Secret Big Stunna Files | Part 1 | Part 2

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