nubiawrites - Tumblr blog

nubiawrites · 7 days ago

Text

@megamindsecretlair I need them together now please and thank you.

Make Me Weak, Part 5

Pairing: Sex Therapist!Terry Richmond x Sub!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. Cursing, mentions of depression, anxiety, and description of sexual issues. Mentions of trauma in relation to religion and family dynamics. Tension, Terry is turned on in session, masturbating. Descriptions of female anatomy. Power imbalance, Shy!reader. Dark!Terry. Dom!Terry, AU Terry, angst, all consensual. Sorry if I missed some. I'm not a therapist and while I do not make light of therapy, this is purely for my own fun. Please seek real medical attention when necessary.

Summary: You were hesitant to go back to therapy after the little fiasco last week. However, you still needed help and Dr. Richmond was still your best bet. During the session, he makes you confront some ugly truths about how you reached your conclusions. Later that night, you can’t help thinking of his words over and over again.

Word Count: 5,985k

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | AO3 Link

A/N: And our fave doctor is back! Thank you for all the sweet asks and comments about this series! PSA, I no longer have a taglist for Terry fics. Please follow the side blog @lost-lovers-club and turn on all notifications. The only ones still tagged are part of my permanent list. Please don't ask to be on the permanent list just to get tagged for Terry. Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment, gif, or unhinged ask.

Terry

Terry rubbed his goatee as he stared at the door to his office. Your appointment approached like the tick of the alligator from Peter Pan. His heart pounded in his chest the closer it became and he feared that you might not actually show up.

He wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t. He had been awful to you last week. It was only natural for you to test your boundaries. That was the point of therapy; to get you to a place where you could find a man that gave you everything you wanted.

The problem was, Terry couldn’t separate that man from himself in his head. It was irrational, it defied all logic, and yet it was a fact. As simple as breathing, as warm as the sun, he belonged to you in whatever capacity you needed. He wanted you and he only wanted the chance to make you fall for him too.

Try as he might, he couldn’t look away from the wooden door. He pictured it opening plenty of times. Wondered what you may be wearing or thinking. What new thing you had scribbled in your journal. Wondered if you would yell at him some more.

A soft knock made him sit up straighter and arrange your notebook on his lap before he cleared his throat. “It’s open,” he called out.

You entered the office and peeked around the door. When your eyes met his, you gave him a shy smile. He hated to see it on your face. The hesitant way you shuffled past the door and then closed it behind you. The way you avoided looking at him as you made your way to the couch.

He took a moment to glance over every detail he could find. You wore an oversized denim shirt buttoned across a white shirt underneath. Your dark leggings showed off your beautiful thick legs perfectly and your tennis shoes brought the whole look together. You made it look effortless, casual, and sexy.

You placed your purse on the couch and your journal on the coffee table but you didn’t sit down. You grasped your hands in front of you, fiddling with your nails.

“I’d have lost if I was betting man,” he said. You glanced towards him but didn’t make any move to respond. “I’m glad you came back.”

“I said I would. So…” you said and trailed off.

Terry rubbed his goatee to keep from smiling. “If you want to yell, you can. Or scream. I crossed the line last week and you’d be more than right to,” he said. Better to rip the bandaid off now. He had to see how deeply he hurt you. How much work he’d have to put in to convince you to give him a chance.

You placed your hands on your hips and twisted from side to side. “I just want to know why,” you said.

Shit. He adjusted himself in his seat to give himself time to answer. He hadn’t exactly prepared for this so soon in the conversation. But it made sense.

Terry looked away from you briefly. Sometimes your eyes were too open and sharp. Seeing right down to his soul without even realizing. It made him feel too exposed. Too…

“I hit a rough patch a few years ago. Naw, it was a really bad, shame and depression spiral that I used to ignore how much pain I was in. I lost my cousin. And that hurt. And I didn’t deal with it well,” he said.

His thoughts tried to pull him back to that period in his life. When all he wanted to do was drink and fuck his way into an early grave. When he didn’t care if he woke up in the morning or who he went to bed with at night. He chased a phantom and it took him a long time to realize that he was only chasing his former self. The self before the pain. The self before the hurt and humiliation. The self that still had hope in this life.

You sat down on the edge of the couch and watched him. He’d give anything to know what you were thinking but he wasn’t a mind reader. He smiled to cover up his pause. “So once I cleaned up my act, got therapy, I still had all this pent up energy and nowhere to spend it other than on work. I tend to get a little…too invested in helping my clients. I want to see you succeed, almost more than you do.”

You snorted and shook your head. “Doubt that,” you said.

You had no earthly clue and that was part of the appeal. The fact that he stared at you like a bunny he caught the scent of upwind and you were none the wiser. He wondered how long it would take for you to realize that the seduction had already begun.

“And selfishly, when you brought up Cole, I didn’t want to think therapy was working that well yet. There’s so much ground we haven’t covered,” he said.

Your eyes snapped to his and he fought a smirk. “Selfishly?” You asked.

He nodded. “I like our time together. There’s never a dull moment,” he said. You looked away from him and grabbed your journal from the coffee table. You dug your thumb into one of the corners and then lifted your eyes back to his.

Terry called your name and leaned forward in his seat. “Whatever my reasons or my excuses were, none of it made it okay for me to talk to you like that. I know you’re not a child and you don’t need to be coddled. I know you’re an adult capable of expressing your needs. I heard everything you said last week.

“My job is to help give you the tools you need to suceed. To find who and what you need and achieve sexual completion. That was the promise I made to you. And I still intend to keep that promise, I swear.”

You stared at him and he hoped he looked as sorry as he felt. “To prove it, I got you this,” he said. He reached down and grabbed the small red gift bag he picked up for you over the weekend.

Your eyes widened. “You got me a present?” You asked.

“Not totally within the rules, so keep it between us.” Terry chuckled. He stood up and passed the gift to you. At his height, you looked even smaller to him sitting on the couch. The view gave him the perfect angle to imagine you on your knees. Looking up at him just like this. With your lips slightly parted, your eyes nice and wide.

When you grabbed the bag from him, you didn’t immediately move away. There was a moment, a brief moment, when it felt like you both wanted to close the distance and feel each other.

Terry broke away first. It was a seduction, not a sprint. He returned to his seat and gestured for you to open the present.

You gently yanked at the plain red and white tissue paper, placed it on the couch, and then dug in the bag. You gasped and chuckled, running your hands over the leather of the journal he picked out for you.

It was nothing extremely fancy or expensive. He had visited a stationary store and browsed until he found one with a soft leather cover and plenty of lined pages within it. Your face went soft when you found the accompanying pen that was smoother to write with.

“I noticed you really took to journaling so I wanted to contribute to your budding writing career,” he said.

You giggled and sniffled a bit. There were no tears in your eyes when you glanced at him though. “I truly am sorry,” he said. He’d say it a thousand times and it would never feel like enough.

You waved your hand. “I already forgave you,” you said. You lifted the journal higher. “Thank you, really.”

You

He got you a journal? What kind of twilight world were you living in? So…maybe it hadn’t all been in your head. Did Dr. Richmond like you? Had he been jealous last week?

When you debriefed with Brooklyn afterwards, she laughed and told you that Dr. Richmond was jealous than a motherfucker about Cole. You denied and denied. There was no way, you said. It couldn’t be, you said. He was too gorgeous and mature for the likes of you.

But what else could have explained his behavior last week? And now, getting you a gift…you couldn’t help but want to stare at him. Watch for any signs of his interest. But as he explained his reasoning, it only planted doubt. It poked holes in the boxes you were trying to shove him into.

You were confused. He was confusing. You flip flopped like a kid pulling flower petals. He likes you…he likes you not…he likes you…

You placed the journal back in the bag and busied yourself with folding the discarded tissue paper. Anything to keep your hands busy. Anything to take attention away from his too-knowing eyes.

“Now, we can move forward. I didn’t give you homework last week, so let’s do a check in. What happened this past week?” He asked.

You bit the inside of your cheek as you thought back over the past week.Truthfully, the whole ordeal had torn you up inside. You knew you shouldn’t have told him a damn thing about Cole, but part of you wanted to throw it out there. Wanted to see how it would stick. See if the vibes you were picking up over the past few months were actually something and not just your imagination.

It was like you gaslit yourself whenever you saw, plain as day, Dr. Richmond show signs that you weren’t just a patient to him. But you’d find reasons to tamp that thought down. Push it away. Shove it into its own little box to be examined later.

With all of the work you’d been doing so far, you were a day late but you weren’t a dollar short. You finally caught on to some of the things Terry would say or do that made you question if there was something deeper. Now that you noticed, it became clearer that Dr. Richmond was interested.

You digested the information as you recounted some things that happened in your life. You avoided the topic of Cole all together, not wanting to poke that bear again. A vicious chill tore through you thinking of Dr. Richmond being so quick to fight over you. You’d never been fought for before. It could get addicting.

“So I brought up some questions last week that were unfair but remain. I want to explore how you came to these conclusions about yourself. How you realized you’re a submissive,” Dr. Richmond said.

You nodded your head and dug the end of your notebook into your thumb. “Like…? From the very beginning?” You asked.

Dr. Richmond nodded. “We discussed it before but I’d like to explore it a little further. Like did your family ever talk to you about sex?” He asked.

You looked down at your notebook and took a deep breath. “Nope. They treated it like a sensitive subject. My mom practically plugged her ears whenever it came up.”

“They treated it like it was taboo,” he added.

You nodded. “Pretty much. Couldn’t ask about it, couldn’t talk about it. If it showed up in a movie we watched together, it always got hella awkward,” you said.

“Why do you think it was awkward for you, specifically?” He asked.

“Because it made me feel things watching it. Really good things. But they always told me that sex was bad and I had to try to ignore it,” you said.

Dr. Richmond leaned back in his seat and rubbed his goatee. He was likely filling in the puzzle, understanding that your parents were just fucking weird. And ill-equipped to raise someone like you.

“Did you ever question it? What made you ultimately decide to go against that thinking?” Dr. Richmond asked.

He was too damn smart. Too damn insightful. It scared you how those ever-changing eyes were like soul-seeking missiles, shining a light on everything you wanted to stay buried. You sighed and rolled your eyes to the ceiling.

Truthfully, no. You didn’t really question it. Your parents were your first introduction to the world. They were larger than life figures that birthed you, raised you, forgave you, and punished you. They decided what justice meant. Why would you ever argue with that? Their word was law and growing up. Besides God and your parents, no other person mattered.

But you would think about it. You felt urges like any normal person would but because they were bad urges, you fought like hell to control the uncontrollable. And got upset when you managed to fail time after time.

You would fantasize and day dream inside your mind, safe and secure away from your parents ever present eyes. You’d still feel like you were being watched though. As if your parents could read your filthy thoughts on your face and tear down the house beating you from now until kingdom come. It was where you learned to read toe-curling smut with a straight face at 7am in the morning.

“My mom likes to tell this story to anyone who will listen. That I used to play a booty tag game with other kids in the class, boys and girls. Harmless, stupid playground fun. She saw a boy tap and grab my butt and I giggled. My mom beat the Black off of my ass. She demanded to know if I ever let him put his hands down my pants or if he was my boyfriend or whatever else she fucking concocted. But she always brings it up.

“And one day, one really random day, after hearing this story for the hundredth time and hearing her talk about my greatest fucking trauma like it’s the latest gossip, I woke up. She’s always going to tell that story. She’s never going to feel any shame for how she reacted. She actually finds it hilarious and I’ve tried pretending I don’t remember, hoping she would go ahead and stop telling it. But either she’s that clueless and mean or she knows that I’m lying. Because she hasn’t stopped.

“And that one day, I just…said fuck it. What if I did touch myself? What if I did start thinking of what sex meant, what I liked? She already hated me enough to tell my trauma to strangers, I may as well do what she’s accusing me of. At least then she’ll have an actual reason to hate me. I felt like a freak because I was already like…in college by the time I first started touching myself. Like who the fuck waits until they’re adults to do that, you know?

“And you know the truly hilarious part? She’s the one that bought me my first adult book when I was in high school. She knew I liked fantasy books so she picked one randomly and whew, I still have the book and the cover is well-loved,” you said and giggled. God, it hurt to lay it all out there.

But it was needed. You felt lighter with each sentence you spoke. As if you had carried that shameful secret with you like a chain around your throat, choking you from time to time whenever you desperately wanted to be intimate but your body outright rejected it. Or perhaps it was the other way around.

Perhaps your body knew exactly what to do, letting you feel good and accept that it felt good. But then your brain would retreat. Fly away to safer lands in your mind. You’d think of any un-sexy thing to take you right out of the mood.

Then your mind would spin, quick with examples for why you just weren’t like other people. Surely this had to be a lonely experience. Some cosmic joke for waiting so long to explore this sexual side of yourself. And then the mood was ruined, your partner just wanted to get off, and you were too embarrassed to say otherwise.

“What was the book about?” Dr. Richmond asked, pulling your thoughts away from spiraling. He scribbled a bit in his book but it wasn’t a lot. In fact, the entire time he listened attentively, his eyes never left yours. Times like this, you believed that he was invested in your therapy more than you were. Working through what held you back.

“It was about a dream demon-like creature from Greek mythology. He would feed off of human’s negative emotions while they slept to help them rest and function in the real world. He had one month to redeem himself on Earth or be sentenced to eternity in Tartarus. The woman is a medical examiner who can see the dead. She and the man have to work together, traveling to an Atlantean hell-realm to fight demons.

“The entire time, they’re griping at each other, banter back and forth, tension. And I’m pretty sure she got hit with like…sex pollen or something. Like she was horny to the max. Like begging this alpha-asshole to fuck her. And he’s resisting because deep down he has a good heart, but he can’t resist her begging him. So they have sex and he’s just in control and powerful and protective. Talking dirty in her ear and talking her through it,” you paused, getting yourself worked up.

You had felt so naughty reading that book, mind bugging from the fact that had your mom known what was in it, she would have burned it in the backyard. Weirdly, your mom wasn’t one for censorship. She allowed you to explore your own interests outside of anything to do with sex.

But you couldn’t stop flipping the pages, staying up late at night to read and re-read. You stopped short of adding flags to your favorite passages and highlighting your favorite parts. You didn’t dare call attention to how much you loved the book. Didn’t dare show interest so your parents wouldn’t catch on.

“Was it her begging or him not able to resist that turned you on more?” Dr. Richmond asked. You jumped, forgetting for a second that you were still in session.

You sat back in your seat and thought through the question. “Him not able to resist,” you answered.

“Do you want to be irresistible?” Dr. Richmond asked.

Was it…he intentionally made his voice lower, right? You squinted, knowing full well that he was playing with you like a dog with a bone.

“I want to be wanted. So yeah, I want to be irresistible to somebody. I want to know that I am the only one they want. I want someone to be for me and only me,” you said and sighed.

Terry smiled with you and it only brought his lips to your attention. So delicious. So cute. They looked pillowy soft and you couldn’t help glancing at him whenever he licked his lips. He didn’t have his signature cup of tea with him today so you wouldn’t have the treat of watching his arms bulge and strain against his tight navy sweater.

“You want the power of knowing that if you crooked your finger, your man would come running,” Dr. Richmond supplied. He leaned forward, notebook and pen dangling in his large hand.

You took a deep breath and shook your head. Was that it? Not necessarily. “More like…I crook my finger and he’s so down bad for me, he come running,” you said.

“But will you believe him when he gives you all of this? Will you accept that you’re a desirable person?” He asked.

And I oop – you nearly snorted. He did not have to do all that. “Well now I need two journals, Dr.,” you said. Your jaw clicked shit with an audible click. You hadn’t meant to make that flirty or not use his full name.

However, his attentive listening was working on you. No one ever truly looked at you when you talked. They were too busy looking at your lips to hear your mumbling, trying to decipher a hidden meaning in your direct speech, and figuring out a natural pause to interrupt your lengthy story.

His eyes never left yours, even when you had to look away. Give yourself a tiny break. And he killed you whenever he licked his lips and nodded, silently encouraging you to keep going. To dig deeper. To reach that root, wrap your hands around it, and yank.

Dr. Richmond smirked but didn’t say anything. You inwardly groaned and stood up from the couch. You couldn’t look at him when you had truths to face. You didn’t want to get distracted by the liquid pool of his eyes while you worked this out in your mind.

Terry

Terry studied you as you paced. No longer compelled to look into your eyes, he was able to take in more information. The way your lips quirked to the side as you puzzled this out. The soft patter of your shoes on the carpet as you paced.

He’d learned so many things about you and through it all, his heart ached for you. The seeding you had as a kid emotionally stunted you in a lot of ways. Your foundation was built on sand. Stubborn sand, but sand. Every beautiful thing that you were supposed to experience was snatched by overbearing, strict, God-fearing parents who made you believe that something so fundamental was wrong and abhorrent.

He didn’t like that you kept referring to yourself as a freak. There was nothing wrong with you. Your parents tried to snuff your light. And nothing made him happier to know that they failed.

“It’s hard to accept it, dammit. I know it’s because of self-esteem. I know it’s because I let all those bullies whisper an ear worm about how fat and gross I was. I listened to my dad’s snide comments about my weight. My mom with how disappointed she always is. I fought my way to loving myself. I did the work.

“And yet it seems like I take two steps forward and end up six steps back. I thought I loved myself but clearly not. ‘Cause you bring up all these good points. Like…I’m never satisfied. Guys don’t kiss me right, love me right, or they’re not romantic enough. I know I have high standards but dammit, why shouldn’t I? It’s my fucking body.

“So if a guy tells me that he loves me, wants to take care of me, or will give me the moon, I automatically think he’s lying. Even when he does everything right like opens doors and walks on the outside of the sidewalk, I’m just not satisfied. And like, fuck, how arrogant, y’know?” You threw up your hands and Terry watched you like a lazy tennis match.

Back and forth, back and forth, it was a wonder you never ended up dizzy. You were so damn sexy as you talked mostly to yourself, revealing how your mind worked. How quickly you made decisions and acknowledged both sides of the argument.

Fuck, he was getting hard just watching you. He pictured getting you riled up on something you were passionate about while he fingered you. How much would you struggle to surrender to his fingers? How strong was your need to win?

Terry cleared his throat and adjusted himself in his seat. He moved your notebook over his lap, hoping to hide his thickening dick. You were none the wiser as you chewed on your lip, one hand on your hip, and slowed down your pacing.

“I want to believe he’ll be everything I want him to be. But I don’t think I could survive if I let my guard down and let in a Trojan Horse. I already feel everything too deeply. Clinging onto anything I can call mine because I never grew up with privacy. And it hurts when it’s taken away. When I can’t do anything to stop it.

“Finding the man of my dreams and he gets taken away would crush me. And I mean that. It would destroy me,” you said and finally turned to him.

The raw pain in your eyes almost made him tear up. Your heart was not something to be played with nor disrespected. Your feelings weren’t a game and he couldn’t treat it like that. But there was still his medical license and practice to think of. He had multiple patients to help.

In a similar way, he couldn’t allow just anyone to get under his skin either. Yes, he was attracted to you. Yes, you turned his head with just a look. Yes, he would drop everything if you told him you wanted him. Still, in the back of his mind, he knew that this could very well end up a local scandal.

He could have misjudged your looks, your curiosity, your teasing and flirting. He could have read this entire situation wrong and all of his efforts would have been for nothing. But the look in your eyes…there was no way to fake that.

You were telling him in your own way that this couldn’t be for jokes. This couldn’t be because he just wanted to get his rocks off. This couldn’t be because you were anything other than just you. You that he wanted.

Terry nodded slowly. Loud and clear.

You blew out a deep breath and then collapsed on the couch. As if you reached the end of your presentation and you were good and spent. Terry glanced at the clock, you had some time but it was nearing the end of the session.

Terry let the room grow quiet while he jotted down some notes. Quick words and phrases he wanted to circle back around to next week. Thoughts you prompted and ways for him to help you.

“The purpose of this therapy is to remind you that you are in control. Always. And what you can control is your thoughts, your actions, your moods. It is also to remind you that while you’re busy looking for that invisible goal, wondering if you have what it takes, you’ve already achieved it and surpassed it.

“I’m not gonna say it won’t hurt. Hurt is life. Hurt is how we grow. But it doesn’t define you. It does not define your life. You’ve survived all of the bullshit up until now. You will survive the bullshit after. But it’s how you look at it that determines if you let it break you down.

“We have to build a stronger foundation. One built on grace, self-love, and self-acceptance. A foundation that nothing can shake. Yes, you did the work to love yourself. Now it’s time to accept that love. Your homework for the week is to get two jars, no matter the size. For every compliment you give someone, write it down and place it in a jar. For every compliment you give yourself, unbidden, you put it in the jar.

“If your jar is less than the other jar, you need to do the work to fill your jar up too, get me?” He asked.

You took a deep breath and nodded. “Got it,” you said. You smiled at him, perhaps for the first time all session, and his heart skipped. In a minute, he was going to need therapy for his twisted obsession with you.

Terry stood up, confident that he no longer sported an erection. He stretched his limbs out, purposefully raising his arms to lift his sweater. Your eyes zeroed in on his stomach and he suppressed a smirk. He was going to have so much fun with you when he finally got his hands on you. Once he got you away from Cole.

He went to his desk to fish out a cloth for his glasses. He took them off and cleaned them while he leaned against his desk.

“I can understand being afraid of not knowing what’s on the other side of an orgasm. There’s four steps to it. And I’m telling you this, but I do not want you to think it’s a checklist you have to get right when you’re intimate, okay?” He glanced at you. You were blurry without his glasses, but he still got the shape and color of you.

“Fineee,” you whined and giggled. He chuckled with you and shook his head.

“There’s excitement, plateau, climax, resolution,” he said and snapped his fingers after each word. He repeated himself and he watched your lips move to remember it.

“We know what excitement is. You start breathing faster, your body feels good, you start getting wet or getting hard. Then there’s plateau where your blood pumps faster, all rushing down south. Climax, the big moment, things start contracting, pleasure and the whole nine yards. Finally, resolution where the blood returns to normal, heart rate lowers, and you’re left feeling satisfied,” he explained, replacing his glasses back on his face.

He wished he could take a picture of your unfocused eyes. Your parted lips and your rapid breathing. You blinked as if coming out of a trance and nodded. Your tongue darted out to lick your lips and you nodded again.

“You managed to make that sound like the most unsexiest thing ever,” you said.

Terry chuckled and walked back to his seat. He stood behind it this time, leaning forward to place his elbows on the back of the chair. “The steps aren’t the point. They’re boring, scientific facts about what goes on in your body during sex. There’s nothing bad about it. The world isn’t going to burn if you have an orgasm. Let your body do what it was intended to do,” he said.

You gasped but your eyebrows drew together, taking him seriously. “You can control your words, your thoughts, and your actions. But you cannot control your body. What do you hear me telling you?” He asked.

You pinched your lips and playfully fluttered your eyes but you answered. “I control my words, thoughts, and actions but not my body. I have to accept my body and accept that I’m capable of having an orgasm. That I’m capable of letting someone in even if I’m scared shitless,” you said and giggled as Terry sighed and tilted his head.

You only giggled more at his expression and waved your hand. “No, I’m serious. I hear you. It’s not a bad thing to want to feel and it’s not a bad thing to accept I’m a desirable person,” you said.

Terry nodded and glanced at the clock. Regretfully, right on time. “I’ll see you next week,” he said.

You gathered your things and threw your purse over your shoulder. You smiled at him and crushed the gift bag to your chest with a grin. “Thank you, Dr. Richmond. I’ll see you next week,” you said.

You left the room and Terry genuinely hoped that you wouldn’t obsess. But as he was learning, obsession was damn near your middle name.

You

You tossed in bed for the hundredth time that night, unable to sleep and drowned in the memory of Dr. Richmond’s voice. The deep way he spoke turned your insides to mush.The slight accent as he said certain words turned you into a burning inferno.

You tried to get the image and words out of your mind, tried to shove it to the far back. Back like chomping demons nipping at your heels, refusing to let you be. He did all that shit on purpose. And somehow, him doing it on purpose only drove you more wild.

You wanted him, he wanted you. But it was a toss up on who would be brave enough to cave first. Which was worse? Living in ignorant bliss or hyper focused on your sex therapist? It was the start of a bad joke and yet it was your reality.

You knew that he had a reputation to uphold. Ethics. All that boring jazz. But there had to be a way. Because you couldn’t live like this anymore. And his stupid rule made it all the more cruel.

Your body felt alive in a way it never had before. Tingly all over. Electric. Your thighs rubbed together in the most shameless way. Sweat covered your body even while laying in nothing but your panties.

Your pussy ached, lower belly feeling empty. “Shit,” you muttered, wiping your brow and groaned as it came away wet. You wiped your hand on your comforter and tossed it off of your body.

But it was a little too cold in the room, the air making you shiver. You brought your comforter back over your body and hunkered down, willing sleep to come and put you out of your misery.

“We know what excitement is. You start breathing faster, your body feels good, you start getting wet or getting hard.”

Umm, check and check. Your panties were soaked from how turned on you were. He definitely used some kind of spell on you because his deep voice sang directly to your vagina as he listed the steps to an orgasm. You had to stop yourself from drooling, falling to your knees right then and there and offering yourself up.

“Then there’s plateau where your blood pumps faster, all rushing down south.”

Your clit throbbed remembering that he deliberately spoke slowly and carefully, his voice slow like honey.

Hell it was your body, right? That was all his big talk was about? It was your body and you were in control?

Guilt tore your ass in half, but you couldn’t help flipping onto your stomach. You rubbed your hardened nipples against the fabric of your sheets. You moaned low in your throat, your lips dragging against the pillow case.

“Fuck,” you moaned.

Your hand slid beneath your body, sinking beneath your panties, right to the wet core of you. You didn’t have time to tease or play with yourself. His voice echoed in your mind. Syllables sharp and seductive. That accent burrowed into your skin and wrapped around your veins.

You gasped with a moan, shivering for entirely different reasons. Your blood rushed in your ears, pounding, throbbing in your slippery heat. You dipped your fingers into your pussy and moaned. Fuck, you were so wet. Dripping. Aching in a way you never experienced before.

Yess, it felt too good. Your body jerked and twitched. You humped your hand, pulling your fingers out to rub furiously at your clit. You bit your pillow, held on with pathetic whimpers.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you screamed. Fuck, you were close. Almost there. Belly twitching and thighs shaking. You pictured Dr. Richmond talking you through it. Fantasized about riding his fingers while he told you how pretty you were. Kissed your neck and told you all about how obsessed he was and would never let anyone, not even Cole, look at what’s his.

“Ouueee,” you moaned, your body getting closer and closer. And…nothing. Your mind retreated as it always did, so close and yet too fucking far. You groaned and deflated, dropping your face into your pillow and silently wished for it to choke you.

Still couldn’t fucking cum. And you broke his rule of not touching yourself so what was even the point if you couldn’t finish? You groaned once more, pulling your fingers out of your panties.

“Fuck,” you grumbled.

The Secret Terry Richmond Files | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Permanent taglist: @planetblaque @westside-rot @chaos-4baby @onherereading @amethyst09

@ciaqui @we-outsiiiide @browngirldominion @iv0rysoap @thecookiebratz

@harmshake @00aijia00 @judymfmoody @multiversefanfics @tvchi

@mind-somewhere-else @simplyzeeka @kaylalb @writingsbytee @notapradagurl7

#currently reading

304 notes · View notes

nubiawrites · 8 days ago

Text

Chapter eleven is now cooking yall. Hopefully will have it out by this weekend.

0 notes

nubiawrites · 8 days ago

Text

Braided Aaron 😩🫦

281 notes · View notes

nubiawrites · 9 days ago

Text

I would love some of these

Fanfic Writer Emoji Ask

😅 What's a story or scene you've created that you're a smidge embarrassed exists?

🥺 Is there a certain type of moment or common interaction between your characters that never fails to put you in your feels?

🤡 What's a line, scene, or exchange you've written that made you laugh?

😈 Has there been a point in a story where you did something just to be playfully mean to your readers?

✍ Do you have a beta reader?

🛒 What are some common things you incorporate in your fics? Themes, feels, scenes, imagery, etc.

🎢 Which of your fics would you call your wildest ride?

✨ Give you and your writing a compliment. Go on now. You know you deserve it. 😉

💋 First kiss fics. Love em or hate em?

🎶 Do you listen to music while you write? What song have you been playing on loop lately?

🛠What tools/programs/apps do you use to write?

⛔ Do you have a fic you started, but scrapped?

🙋‍♀️ Do any irl people know you write fanfic?

🍦 What's the sweetest fic you've created so far?

🍷 Do you drink and write?

🍆 Do you write the spicy stuffs? If so, what's your most popular nsfw fic?

🌞 Do you have a preferred time of day to write?

💖 What made you start writing?

💌 How do you feel about comments and feedback?

❌ What's a trope you will never write?

💲 Would you ever open commissions?

🧐 Do you spend much time researching for your stories?

🏆 What's your most popular fic?

🎃 Do you write fics for certain holidays? Which is your favorite holiday inspired fic?

🎯 Have any of your readers accurately guessed major plot points? Care to share which?

🎨 How do you feel about fan art of your stories?

📈 How many fics do you have?

🦅 Do you outline fics or fly by the seat of your pants?

�� Tell me about an up and coming wip please!

🤗 What advice would you give to new fanfic writers that are just getting started?

💞 Who's your comfort character?

🧠 Pick a character, and I'll tell you my favorite headcanon for them.

🤩 Who is your favorite character to write?

🤲 Would you please share a snippet of a wip?

😬 Which of your fics would you be most horrified for friends, family, or coworkers to stumble upon?

🎉 What leads you to consider a fic a success?

✅ What's something that appears in your fics over and over and over again, even if you don't mean to?

📚 Would you ever want to turn writing into a career?

⌛ How long does it take you to write a fic, or a chapter?

🤯 What's a genre you struggle with as a writer (ex. romance, action, etc.)?

💔 Is there a fic of yours that broke your heart?

💥 How do you feel about criticism?

🤭 Do you have a favorite tag to use when posting your works?

🥰 How do you feel about reader interaction? Are you open to receiving questions about your fics?

26K notes · View notes

nubiawrites · 10 days ago

Text

I haven't left this fanfic behind. I have deadlines for some projects I'm working on and as soon as I feel afloat, I will write!

0 notes

nubiawrites · 13 days ago

Text

These two do something to me

Reblog with your favorite picture or gif of Kelvin! Go!

247 notes · View notes

nubiawrites · 13 days ago

Note

I imagine he's gonna come in like I can deal with spice. But do that buffering moment before cursing. And then say sorry mum.

I think we'll see him do those kinds of interviews (thirst tweets, hot ones, gq) when green lanterns press starts. he's probably gonna be everywhere similar to the black panther press tour. since they're filming rn he doesn't really have anything to promote. mufasa was disney so they had to keep most of the press for that pg lol

You're absolutely right anon, bc hot ones definitely allows cursing & i feel like aaron sometimes has the mouth of a sailor 💀💀💀💀

I ain't eem think of that

25 notes · View notes

nubiawrites · 13 days ago

Text

Why am I forgetting my greatest hits my god love this one too

Reblog with your fave picture or gif of Aaron. Go!

202 notes · View notes

nubiawrites · 13 days ago

Text

I forgot that one. Whoever set this frame up ate with it.

Reblog with your fave picture or gif of Aaron. Go!

202 notes · View notes

nubiawrites · 13 days ago

Text

*Taps on mic* GQ would like a word but also them bumble pictures live rent free in my mind

Especially this one

Reblog with your fave picture or gif of Aaron. Go!

202 notes · View notes

nubiawrites · 15 days ago

Text

wip game! post the last line you wrote and tag as many people as there are words!

me: finally not writing something nasty but reading yours and trying to figure out how can i get it in this fic?

“Like I said, this is the best place to be. And since I’m here, I’m not planning on leaving until it’s time for me to,” Terry commanded as he moved to sit in one of the plushier chairs.

this is from my upcoming fic Till Dawn, a Terry Richmond x First Daughter of a Black Woman President fic. Trying to have something out by next week?

@artsninspo @yassbishimvintage @jazziejax @theereinawrites @whatisthisdrea

wip game! post the last line you wrote and tag as many people as there are words!

thank you to the beautiful @sceletaflores for still tagging me in these even though i went mia lol. this is the first one of these i've done in foreverrr so let's considered this a response to all 31981 i've rudely ignored :( this is just a little sentence from the next (long-awaited) chapter of my sexologist!frankie morales series. hoping to get it posted at the end of the month <3

His finger slips inside a little easier this time around, sinking into you with a pleasing heat.

np tags: @richeeduvie @heavenbarnes @ovaryacted @wlwloverwrites @covetyou @nolita-fairytale @pedrospatch @targaryenvampireslayer @rae-gar-targaryen @almostempty @itsmemuffy @veritable-trash @seventeenpins @saradika @avocado-writing @guiltyasdave @megamindsecretlair

241 notes · View notes

nubiawrites · 17 days ago

Text

Idky but the pictures ain’t giving couple not hating just saying. I need something of them not at an event.

34 notes · View notes

nubiawrites · 17 days ago

Text

Me keeping notes for this here little fic. Cause we clocking it but I like pretty people.

0 notes

nubiawrites · 17 days ago

Text

NEW SEASON OF IN MASTER YOU ARE A KIII

chapter ten

Pairing: Aaron Pierre x Black Original Character

Warnings: Slow burn. 18+. Smut. Sex. Talks of emergency contraception.

Summary: Iriye is forced to face the music at the table read for Paradise Lost but Aaron isn't ready to fall back.

Notes: Better late than never. I wanted to write more of their... lovemaking scene but I will consider releasing outtakes from this story. Enjoy! Drop comments in my ask box, under this post or reblog. I love the responses.

MASTERLIST

Aaron was used to tense situations. Being an actor meant long days and nights. Different personalities collaborated and clashed with each other. This was a given in every life situation. He had seen his fair share of it, but being in a situation like this was never fun.

Things were a bit tense at the official table read for Paradise Lost, and it hadn't even started. Aaron could sense it, the energies in the room clashing a bit. Aaron saw Tamara had her hands on her hips whenever she talked to someone, her voice low, but her eyes looked frustrated. She was trying to be polite, but there was a tenseness.

Nelly was too jittery. The younger woman always had a pep to her step and a joke on her lips, but she was working overtime. He could tell she wasn’t as cheerful but more on the move, her hair in a messy bun rather than the loose waves she kept together.

“Here’s your script,” Nelly said to Aaron, not stopping for their usual small talk.

“You drunk anything that isn’t dark, Nelly,” Aaron stated, trying to get a chuckle.

“I don't like that accusation,” Nelly stated before she sighed. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you,”

“No, you’re fine. My apologies,” Aaron gave her a small smile. Nelly returned it, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “If you want, I can grab you something if it helps,”

“Thank you, but no thank you. I don’t want to leave Tamara and Iriye alone together,” Nelly said before leaning in. “They are not talking,”

“Isn’t that good?” Aaron asked.

“Aaron, that’s the worst thing. They’re doing this weird passive-aggressive attitude with each other,” Nelly rambled on.

“I have a feeling that I might be the cause of that,” Aaron admitted.

“Yeah, I know. Tamara was freaking out when she realized Iriye was at your place. I didn’t tell her anything. I figured Iriye would,” Nelly shrugged.

“Well, I thought Iriye would, too,” Aaron said. Nelly looked around.

“Walk with me to get something not dark from craft services?” Nelly asked him.

Aaron nodded, and Nelly quickly put the rest of the scripts for the cast at their proper seats.

They wandered over to the craft services area set up for the table read. Nelly immediately grabbed a bottle of water, causing Aaron to chuckle.

“To think I was going to offer my great advice giving skills to you about Iriye,” Nelly rolled her eyes before beginning to look over the snacks.

“Forgive me,” Aaron said througha chuckle. “I’m sorry. I mean it,”

“Yeah yeah yeah,” Nelly pointed a pretzel at him before eating it. She took her time chewing and then proceeded to wash it down with some water before talking. “Iriye has always kept her cards close to her chest,”

“You’re preaching to the choir,” Aaron said, grabbing his own trail mix from the table.

“But once she opens it, Iriye really will give endless love and devotion. I’ve seen it,” Nelly admits.

“With Jay?” Aaron asked. “I kind of figured that they were an item,”

“Yeah but I don’t think she was ever in love with him. And she ended that before she could find out,” Nelly whispered.

“But she was able to be around you guys with him. She never even told you and Tamara about me,”

“I been knew you two were a thing. I didn’t need her to tell me. Hell, I think I knew from the time we all met in the meeting with Davis,” Nelly stated. Aaron raised one eyebrow at him, and she gave him a look. “Please. Iriye went all cool and collected. That’s her tick for nerves. And you’re a great actor. But not when you have the upper hand on someone. You’re too smug,”

“You really notice everything?” Aaron stated. Nelly raised her bottle.

“If you want to be the best assistant, you gotta notice everything and the cracks in between,” Nelly stated. “Iriye is a complicated woman. Delicate underneath it all, but she’s scared to show it,”

“I know. I get why. She told me about her dad leaving…” Aaron said. Nelly paused while sipping her bottle of water.

“Wait, she talked about her dad?” Aaron could see the gears working overtime in Nelly’s head.

“Yes, she did,” Aaron was about to ask something else when he heard Nelly’s phone ring.

“I’m sorry. I gotta take this,” Nelly said, whispering sorry before she got on the phone.

Aaron returned to where his script was, grabbing his pen and adjusting his glasses. As he was beginning to highlight his lines, he felt the chair beside him creak, and he looked to see Vivian.

“Crap, I’m sorry,” Vivian said apologetically, adjusting her bag on the back of the seat.

“No, you’re good,” Aaron said, adjusting himself so she had room to sit. She gave him a small smile before she took out a pencil case and pulled out pens of different colors, arranging them in a way that made Aaron curious.

“What?” Vivian asked, a nervous smile making it to her face as she pulled her hair back into a ponytail. Aaron pointed out her pens. “There’s a method to my madness,”

“No, we actors have ways we handle things,” Aaron raised his hands in surrender.

“How are you handling all of this?” Vivian asked. “You know, thrown into the spotlight, and it’s full-blown on you,”

“It’s something,” Aaron admitted. “I was asked to host events and things. And I keep asking myself, why me?”

“It can be a lot,” Vivian nodded. “Doing all the extra when all you want to do is just act,” Aaron could hear something in her words. “Can I give you some advice? One actor to another,”

Aaron sat up some more, ready to learn.

“Know what you’re willing to fight for and what you’re ready to say no to,” Vivian said. “I wish I had learned that a long time ago. Fortunately, I had some good people in my corner, along with some who cared more about the money than my well-being.”

Aaron nodded, knowing of Vivian through his sister’s tabloids and gossiping when they were younger. Vivian seemed to smile through it all, even when people didn’t have the nicest things to say from what he saw.

“When you set what you will and will not take, it makes it harder for people to shake those boundaries,” Vivian explained. “And trust me, with the level of fame you’re about to experience once your show comes out, you’re gonna need it,”

Aaron nodded, taking it in as Vivian checked her phone, a smile taking over her face.

“It’s my boyfriend. Every time I have a first table read, he always sends me a picture of our dog with a cheesy message,” Vivian explained, showing him the picture. Aaron smiled as he saw an actor he had seen before in something, holding the dog up and a message underneath the photo.

“Adorable dog. He takes after his father,” Aaron joked, Vivian chuckling.

“He does,” Vivian said. “Honestly, it’s nice to know after this and some meetings, I have Gabe and Charleston to go home to,” She said. “They make the boundary testing all worth it because, at the end of the day, I’m living my dream and going home to them,”

Aaron thought about those words, looking toward where he felt eyes on him. He saw Iriye, seeing her in the flesh for the first time in a week. She looked frazzled, and he just wanted to smooth the worries from her head. He would kiss her until she talked to him about the most random things in her life. Aaron would be happy to bask in her presence.

Iriye turned her attention back to the production assistant helping with the table read, not wanting to bud into whatever Aaron and Vivian were talking about. They were too close for her liking, but what could she do? Yell at the two romantic leads of the film she wrote and produced. Tell Vivian to back off of Aaron because he was her man.

But Iriye couldn’t do that because she didn’t want to open up that can of worms. They never explicitly said what they were doing with each other during the three months they had been in each other’s lives. That’s where it got tricky because Iriye was comfortable with what they were doing: going on mini dates at each other’s place before sleeping with each other. Late nights in the grocery store or early mornings trekking through the used bookstores Iriye loved. Eating food that was going against his Lanterns fitness regime and watching him try to work it off with his Lanterns regime at the home gym in his apartment.

Iriye just loved being around him. She loved him. It felt too soon to say that. The moment she realized she was really into Aaron was when he dropped her off at her apartment after picking up the morning-after pill. He seemed calm, but she could tell he was agitated. But he still offered to stay with her, having read the side effects on the box as they sat and waited to figure out the next steps of their plan.

“It says side effects include nausea and vomiting,” Aaron read plainly. Even telling her the worst thing sounded great coming from him.

“It’s not my first rodeo with the morning-after pill,” Iriye said nonchalantly.

“So, you’ve done this before?” Aaron stated.

“There was a broken condom situation when a fellow intern when I moved to LA,” Iriye explained. But she didn’t explain how the pill always tended to make her feel like she was dying. She always got the brute force of the side effects.

“I should probably stay then,” Aaron said. “Make sure you’re alright,”

“I don’t need you for this part, Aaron,” Iriye stated too quickly. “It just makes me sleepy, so I’ll be fine. I’ll probably sleep this thing off all weekend. And you probably need to get prepped for the table read and all,” Iriye knew it was a few days off, but in being around Aaron, she knew when it was playtime and work time.

“Iriye-” Aaron reasoned as she got out of the car.

“See you at the table read,” Iriye stated, walking towards her apartment.

And it was a terrible couple of days. Iriye had been fielding calls and texts from Tamara all while trying not to throw up from the morning after side effects. Once it came to Monday, she decided to stay home but not before Tamara could come banging at her door. Iriye had to pretend to not be home before seeing Tamara slip a note under her door. She waited a while before moving to grab the paper and read it: you can’t run away forever.

Now Iriye was back at the lot, ensuring everything was under control until she saw Tamara.

“Iriye,” Tamara was in professional mode.

“Tamara, I-”

“We’re using your latest script,” Tamara said in her professional voice, and Iriye raised a brow. “We can’t do this right now,”

“I know,” Iriye stated.

Tamara moved to talk with someone else on the sound stage while Iriye went to drop off her belongings at her seat. People started gathering around, with Tamara leading the group in quick introductions of the actors and creatives involved in the film. Iriye quickly introduced herself. Vivian led the group in a small round of applause, and she gave a small and curt smile.

As the reading began, Iriye was lost in everyone getting comfortable with each other. each finding their character's voice and emotional journey. One of her favorite things about being a writer was seeing the discoveries others found in and between the lines of her words.

They took their first break during Act One, and Iriye grabbed a snack from craft services. But she should have been smarter because Aaron was right on her tail.

“We need to talk,” Aaron spoke lowly under her voice. Iriye checked her watch.

“We can’t right now,” Iriye shook her head.

“We got fifteen minutes,” He said. “Enough time,”

“We said we wouldn’t do this, us, on the lot,” Iriye reminded.

“Bullshit, Iriye,” Aaron said under his breath.

“Excuse me?” Iriye was shocked at him being snappy with her. He never was.

“Bullshit. You weren’t saying that in your office,” Iriye cleared her throat, hoping no one heard. “Walk with me, Iriye Edwards,”

Aaron began walking ahead, and Iriye glared at his head. He turned towards her.

“Please, Iriye,” Aaron’s eyes softened at her even if his voice was sharp and clear. Iriye huffed and looked around before following him out. Still being the gentleman, he held one of the doors open for her, following behind her. They walked briefly before Aaron stopped them at a familiar structure: the soundstage where they met.

“We don’t have a lot of time,” Iriye stated.

“How are you feeling after the weekend?” He asked her, a nervousness taking over him.

“I took the pill if that’s what you were wondering,” Iriye stated. “I forgot how sick those things make me,” She said too much, seeing Aaron’s eyes soften more. “Don’t look at me like that. I don’t like when people see I’m sick,”

“What’s wrong with seeing you sick,” Aaron said.

“Because I was gross and hunched over a toilet,” Iriye said. “I can take care of myself,”

“I know that, Iriye. But when you’re with someone. When you want to be in a relationship with them, you let them see all sides of yourself: the good, the bad, and the ugly,” Aaron said.

“Well, here you go. You’ve reached the bad part,” Iriye said. “I self-sabotage before you get a chance to figure out I’m not good enough and leave,”

“You think I’m going to leave?” Iriye chuckled.

“Aaron, it’s a given,” Iriye stated. “You’re handsome. You’re talented. And so deserving of every chance you’re going to get,” Iriye bit her lip. “But so am I,”

Aaron raised a brow at her words, moving closer to her.

“There’s going to be a point where it’s going to be what I want or what you want,” Iriye said. “And I’m afraid that when we get to that point, one of us might make the wrong choice,”

“So you would rather quit while you’re ahead?” Aaron asked, looking at her deeply in her eyes. “Answer me, Iriye,” His gaze was intense, and she wanted to look anywhere but him. But she was in his orbit and hated how close she had allowed him to get.

“I-I don’t know,” Iriye tried looking at his sweater. Aaron tilted her chin up to look up at him.

“We need to talk about this, Iriye. Not right now, because we have to return to the table read. But we’re gonna talk about this,” Aaron stroked her chin.

“Okay,” Iriye said.

Iriye and Aaron pulled apart, trying not to walk too closely to each other as they made it back to the soundstage. Iriye let him enter first, and Tamara stopped her just as she was going to go in.

“Tamara, we’ve got to get back,” Iriye muttered.

“Why didn’t you tell me,” Tamara asked. Iriye bit her lip.

“I didn’t mean to hide it from you,” Iriye whispered.

“But you didn’t,” Tamara said. “Is this about Jay?”

“No,” Iriye admitted. “It had nothing to do with him,”

“I know he and I are still being friends; it bugs you, but he was my friend before you were his girlfriend,” Tamara stated.

“I know, Tam. I wasn’t asking you to take sides,” Iriye said.

“But I wouldn’t have said anything if he asked about your dating life. Maybe that’s why you didn’t tell me,” Tamara stated.

“I know you wouldn’t,” Iriye admitted. “I just… I’m figuring things out, and I didn’t want to say something, and it didn’t work out. Saying something would make it real. Maybe too real,”

“I saw you two at the snack table,” Tamara said. “I was going to talk to you, but I saw him and you,”

“We’re about to start again,” A production assistant interrupted them. Iriye nodded toward them, and they left.

“You like him. Probably more than you ever liked Jay,” Iriye heard Tamara’s words.

“We need to focus back on the table read,” Iriye rubbed her on her jeans.

“It’s okay to feel for him, Iriye. You deserve to be happy,” Tamara said.

“I’m sorry, Tamara,” Iriye moved to hug Tamara, and she embraced her back.

“I’m sorry, too,” Tamara squeezed Iriye. They pulled apart, returning to the table together.

The energy for the rest of the table read felt better, Iriye able to focus at moments, hearing the chemistry building amongst the cast. The reactions to different scenes and dialogues had her feeling like everything she had worked so hard for, was coming to fruition.

By the last scene, Iriye’s eyes were shiny with tears. They got to the last pages and a few of the actors in the cast clapped. Tamara took a moment to speak, letting everyone know that Lanoire productions were thankful for them to join the journey of this film getting made.

The table read was wrapped up and Iriye was grabbing her things from her office when she heard a knock at her door. She looked up and saw Aaron.

“Can I come in?” Iriye nodded and he entered her office, looking around. “How are you feeling?”

Iriye let out a deep breath she felt like she had been fighting. “I feel like… I can breathe a little better,”

“You and Tamara?” Aaron asked.

“We’re good. I’m pretty sure I owe her dinner, two bottles of wine and a gossip session about us,” Iriye said. She saw the smile smile on his face and she bit her lip. “Aaron…”

“You said us,” Aaron moved to grab her bag, packing it up. “Come on,”

“Aaron, I gotta go home,”

“I know. I’m taking you home. I know you didn’t drive your car since you haven’t been feeling good,” Iriye rolled her eyes as the man before her.

“So bossy,” Iriye took her bag from him.

“Don’t think I didn’t see you rolling your eyes at me,” Aaron said as he led her out.

Iriye was quiet as she let Aaron drive her home in his car, his hand on her thigh as Sade played in his car. They didn’t speak but it was enough for Iriye. It made her feel warm and that thought came through her head. She loved him.

They got to her place and Iriye let them in, Aaron taking her bag off and putting it where she kept it normally.

“Go shower. I’m going to make us some dinner and we’re going to talk like adults,” Aaron demanded. “Then if you want to step away from us, you can,”

Iriye was going to say something but she saw the look on Aaron’s face.

“Fine,” Iriye turned to her bathroom and went inside, using the time as she needed. She had to get this fine ass man out of her house. But taking her time in the shower would give her the space to breathe and take in how she would do this. She could go the anger route. Yell at him. Threaten him. Tell him she wouldn’t see him. But she didn’t want that. She wanted him.

Iriye dried off, taking the time to moisturize her skin and she deciped to slip into some sweats and a t shirt. She walked into the kitchen to see Aaron heating up some pasta sauce she had in a jar.

“You need to go grocery shopping,” Aaron pointed out. He had some noodles boiling and she bit her lip.

“Maybe. I’ve just been spending a lot of time at this man’s house,” Iriye said.

“Oh a man. What’s he like?” Aaron asked, playing along.

“Well for one, he’s tall. Really built like a linebacker or something,” Iriye mentioned. “His ears kind of a tad big for his head,”

“Not too much,” Aaron chuckled.

“He’s passionate and sweet and funny. Can go toe to toe with me when we bicker,” Iriye stated. She watched as he continued cooking with what she had, moving to plate the paste with the sauce for her.

“I did the best I could,” He said, moving to get her a glass of water for Iriye. He place it by her. “Now eat,”

“Someone’s bossy,” Iriye dug into the meal. He watched her eat, Iriye knowing that he was focused on her. Once she finished, she watched Aaron move her plate out the way and pulled her chair closer to him as they sat at her counter. “What has gotten into you?” Iriye asked.

“You have, Iriye Edwards,” Aaron spoke, his hand moving to her cheek and cupping it. “So if this is what you don’t want,” His hand sliding up her thigh. “You’ll tell me to stop,” He cupped her pussy through her sweats and Iriye bit her lip.

“Aaron,” Iriye moaned. His hand slid into her sweats, finding her pussy as she didn’t put panties on.

“No panties. You made this so much easier for me, love,” Aaron slipped two fingers inside of Iriye and he quickly found that spot inside of her that made her gasp out.

Iriye was going to shut her legs but Aaron stood, moving to stand between her legs. His hand went to the nape of her neck and twisted his fingers into the hair there, making her look at him.

“You want me to stop, say it,” Aaron challenged her, blue eyes piercing her own. “Say it,”

Iriye couldn’t say anything as she moaned, his fingers working inside of her, his thumb touching her clit.

“The thing is you need me, Iriye,” Aaron said. “And I need you,” He leaned down to kiss her lips and Iriye kissed him back deeply.

Iriye cupped his cheeks as their lips moved against each others, Aaron swallowing every moan and gasp that slipped as he worked her pussy with his fingers, feeling her juices coming out more and more.

Aaron pulled back from kissing her, taking his fingers out of her pussy and sliding them to her lips, letting her taste herself amongst them. Iriye moaned, tasting her sweet juices. He pulled his fingers and kissed her, groaning.

“Come on,” Aaron lifted Iriye up, her hands moving to his neck and her legs wrapped around him. He led them to her bedroom and she gasps as he dropped her on her bed. “Strip,” Iriye sat up and with the look in his eye, she knew not to play around.

Iriye shuffled her sweats down, leaving her bottom half bare and then her shirt came off, her titties bouncing back to their space. Aaron;s eyes took in every part of her body and she felt so exposed like a raw nerve. He got himself out of his shirt, the slight hair on his chest coming into view and the same speckle just above his pants. No belt was in his jeans and she watched as he unbuttoned it, his boxer briefs coming into view to show the hard bulge below as he got out of them.

“Can I taste you,” Iriye asked and Aaron just chuckled.

“You think I’m going to let you have what you want?” Aaron stated. “After you drove me mad all week, worried about you,” Iriye thought it was posessiveness making him act like this but it was more than that. “Get the condom,” Iriye shuffled up her bed to check her sidetable draw. Just as she was about to grab the gold foil, she felt a smack to her ass and she moaned from the sting, looking back at him. “Get the condom, Iriye,”

Iriye grabbed it, shifting till she was laying against the pillow. Like a lion, Aaron crawled over her. He took the condom out of her hands and opened it, slipping it onto himself.

Aaron crawled over Iriye, his eyes meeting her and leaning down for a soft kiss. And Iriye hated that she felt like she didn’t deserve him being sweet for a moment.

“Let me in, Iriye,” Aaron whispered and it wasn’t just her opening her legs and bed to him. It was everything else. Letting him into her life and her heart.

Before she could reply, Aaron pushed into her, a groan leaving his lips as he pressed into her pussy. She gasped as the familiar feeling of her body stretching around his length.

Aaron took a moment to regain himself, his body rocking into her as Iriye’s nail went to his back to find purchase. But he took both of her hands and pressed them to the bed.

“No. You’re just going to feel me. Feel what I do to you. That’s your only focus. Do you understand,” Aaron demanded.

“Yes,” Iriye moaned as she felt him beginning to thrust his length inside of her. Soft gasps left her as Aaron was commited to being slow and steady. His length slide in and out of her, the wet sounds echoing amongst their moans and groans.

Aaron was rolling his hips too good into her. Rocking against her as her feet tried to find purchase on the bed. His chest was rubbing against her nipples, growing harder and making her pussy throb with each movement.

“God, I wish I could feel how wet you are again,” He whispered against her lips, him leaning down to kiss her. Her hands were gasping the covers as Aaron pinned her down.

“You feel so good inside of me,” Iriye moaned out, feeling him thrust a little harder into her and causing her to cry out.

“You really wanted to end this,” Aaron groaned against her neck. “Look at me,” He twisted his hips in a way that had Iriye arching her back, body still rocking slowly into her. “You want me to stop?”

Iriye gasped as he thrust again, hitting her g spot. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head for a second.

“You didn’t answer me Iriye,” He thrust harder into her. “You want me to stop?”

“No,” Iriye whined out. Aaron paused for a moment and she was about to moan her discontent.

“Wrap your legs around me,” Iriye did as she was told, her legs wrapping around his waist. He lifted her back up from the bed. “Arms around my neck,” She wrapped around his neck and that’s when she knew he was trying to ruin her for anyone else.

Aaron’s muscles weren’t just for looks as he began bouncing her on his cock, lifting her like she was nothing. She began crying out, not caring that her neighbors would most likely complain. If they were getting fucked like this while on their worst behavior, they would understand.

“You really want this to stop,” Aaron lifted her, his cock hitting her g spot just right and her being forced to take the onslaught was wrecking her. They were both trying to breath between gasps and moans. “A-Answer me,” He stuttered as Iriye’s pussy spasmed.

“No. Please! No! Don’t stop,” Iriye cried out loudly. She clutched onto him for dear life as the wet slaps fell against his hips.

“You really wanted to run from this,” Aaron was thrusting up into her harder. “But no one can fuck you like this,” He made sure to puntactate each word with a hard thrust, forcing cries from her body.

“Aaron!” Iriye whined.

“When I am done with you, you’re only going know my name. You understand, love,” Aaron thrust harder into her.

“Fuck! Yes,” Iriye cried out. He thrust up into her as he brought her body down onto his length, cries and moans leaving Iriye’s body as he moved faster. “You’re going to make cum!” Iriye whined.

“Good. Cum on your cock. I’m yours baby,” Aaron leaned in to kiss her. Her lips hungrily found his and she cried out as she felt her pussy spasming. It took a couple more thrusts before Iriye screamed out. Her juices flooding his length just made Aaron thrust harder, him groaning out as his orgasm hit her and they crumpled to the bed, entangled in each others arms. They would have to talk at some point but their bodies did most of the work and that was enough for now.

@wildwomanalereyia @teenage-aria @skvrpion @absentmindeddreamer @blackpinup22 @liv10002 @styleismyaddiction @jungwonsgfs @hooliemooliedonutshawp @hippiesandpeacesigns @blowmymbackout @justagirlwho-believes13 @caribbeangyalsworld @melovedorks @moihasarrived @ashanti-notthesinger @xx-mintyxx @iluvchrisbrown @ash-ketchumzzz @deijalee @pyramidlight @xosharieee @kaylaahisthebestest- @chaniceandrea @kimmivlixx @saveadanc @kaylalb @queenbritbrat @kceeee @naughtynolly-blog @myawesome56 @chainingxday @nononoks-blog @kinginwithbreezy-blog @apple123cg @jazziejax @lauren1000000 @withoutmusiclifewouldbflat @venusincleo @loveschrisbrown20 @brwnskingirlll @iamfredtina @cozyashhh @modelmemoirs @kimiasinterlude @rpayn22 @mscarter123 @lolola22267 @thesweetestdrug @valarghoulis @nyifly22 @zimsilandela @teheeboo @blveeeeeee @5starsirl @yassbishimvintage @23jammy @prettiegal @vadeadiugularis @gabbywontlose @pinkkycherrish @slashervalley @aqueenwasmadehere @lee-jennie @wuzzzgoood

107 notes · View notes

nubiawrites · 17 days ago

Text

Imma need you to go to the corner. Right now. Tattooing your name on her womb! I'm dead!!!