#Aaron Pierre fic

[daniiwrites]

Updated with links for PROVIDER and THREE KINGS.

Master List

Multi-chapter stories

Three Kings [Idris Elba x Aaron Pierre x Trevante Rhodes]

Chapter 1

Provider [Aaron Pierre x Lori Harvey]

Chapter 1

Keep reading

[notapradagurl7]

Hey girl I was wondering if you could do a fic with Aaron and basically him and the reader are married and just had a baby. Reader is having a hard time adjusting with the baby, work, etc and has a meltdown. Here incomes Aaron to rescue, and if you wanna end it with some 🍆 ✨(that’s fine by me 😏)

Bundle Of You.

Pairings: Black Fem!Wife! Reader x Terry RichmondHusband!

Summary: See Ask. You and your husband Terry just had your little one, and happily married. However you're having a hard time adjusting with everything, your mom babysitting. But your husband comes to the rescue.

WC: 3972k.

A/N: Here you go, I loved this, ask and you will receive, thank you for this! lovely anon, I had fun, that last part is fine by me too,🤭 but had something extra. 🩷 don't forget to like, comment, reblog and drop a request if you like, enjoy!

Taglist: @megamindsecretlair @satoruya @planetblaque

@playgurlxoxo @babybratzmaraj

@becauseimswagman1

@superheroprincess22 @pocketsizedpanther @beenathembo @brattyfics

@hxneyclouds @yassbishimvintage

@nahimjustfeelingit-writes @nayaesworld @ovohanna24

@novahreign @writingsbytee @avoidthings @kimuzostar @slippinninque @keyera-jackson @theblacklewinsky

@euphorichappiness10 @life-in-the-slut-house @miguelspvssy @liatreads @kaylaahisthebestest- @tforpresz

@uniqueoutlierblog

@dxddykenn

@secretlifeoofmarpessa @dpennedit

@westside-rot @mymindisneverhere

@mind-somewhere-else

@kindofaintrovert

@5starr-staciii

@lady-olive-oil @23jammy @zillasvilla @yassbishimvintage @musicisme333

@chaoticcoffeequeen @saturnville @enchantedillumination @kaylalb @mogul93 @theereina @uzumaki-rebellion @blyffe @fakxmbj @kumkaniudaku @ranikyani @mama-2001 @ororosdaughter

Warnings: fluff, filthy smut, sensual eye contact, a feral reader, spanking, praise, unprotected sex, a feral Terry, breeding kink, angst, dirty talk, consensual for both parties, a horny reader, mention of death, mention of suicide, cussing, stressed-out reader, creampie, meltdown, slight daddy kink, pet names, breast milk, nasty!Terry, rough sex, the reader being picked up, dacryphilia.

————

Your elegant black Honda arrived at your home's driveway, and you let out a sigh. You glanced over the charming single-story brown-painted house, which featured seven windows. Lush green hedges trim the house corners, neatly trimmed and short. Birds sit at the tips of the branches, singing a lovely tune.

“Another day is over, thank God,” you mumbled lowly, sighing in relief.

Grabbing your keys and briefcase from the passenger seat, you pulled the door handle and stepped with a groan of exhaustion.

On your first day back from work after maternity leave, it felt like chaos with your difficult boss breathing down your neck and colleagues inquiring about your baby, Terry, and your pregnancy, draining your energy.

You spotted your mom’s car parked in the driveway, rolling your eyes. Not in the mood to talk to her about anything but you needed someone watch the baby. You had a hard time adjusting with work, the baby, and your mom stressing you out, etc. It was so overwhelming. You couldn’t wait until your husband got home.

The last time you talked to your mom was an argument about Terry, the marriage and having a baby.

Your mom wasn't too happy about finding out about your marriage and baby through your cousin Raelynn at a family reunion who found through Instagram. You blocked her and every family member that day.

She believed she had the right to question your choice to marry a former Marine, and you gazed at her with a gentle look.

This originates from your mother's negative experience with your father, a former Marine suffering from intense PTSD, who would have nightmares at night. Screaming.

It left your mom crying, praying to God that the pain would away, but it wouldn't go away. Your father was tired of the nightmares, tired of the pain.

Until one night, your dad stood alone in the backyard with his gun in his hand, he wanted the pain, and the violent memories to end. Tears rolled down his face, He aimed the gun at his end and a gunshot aired out.

After that, you and your mom did your best to keep going, she was sad about your father but never mentioned him again, she would usually say that she was finally free of it. The two of you didn’t struggle but

Terry had endured so much, from the loss of his cousin Mike after he was stabbed in jail and battling the corrupt law enforcement in Shelby Springs.

But you made it clear that Terry was different, he was quiet and reserved about being a great dad.

Mentally it took a toll on him, after the court battle and eventually winning it, it wasn't enough to bring his cousin back to Earth.

If Terry could conquer heaven’s angels and talk to God Himself, asking The Creator to bring him back. He would do that in a heartbeat.

Hell, Terry would do the same with Satan and those rotten demons, if he had the power or believed in the afterlife.

But when Terry met you at a black-owned coffee shop, for him everything changed. He had a family with you, a daughter. He wished Mike could meet the little one.

You shook your head, trying to dismiss the thoughts swirling in your mind as you stepped inside.

You opened the door and were greeted by your mom, and you responded to her.

As you made your way through the hallways into the bedroom, you tossed your briefcase onto your desk, grabbed a pen, and noted down important dates and names related to your work as an assistant in a cubicle.

Once you flopped on the bed. You heard your baby cry.

Groaning lowly, pouting your lips. You quickly raised up from the bed and hurried into the room where your mom was holding the baby in her arms. “Hello dear, how are you?,” she replied in a annoyed tone.

“I’m fine, You’re holding her incorrectly,” you shot back, flanking her immediately.

Raven’s bedroom was quite spacious, the four walls painted in chocolate brown, and white macaron cream, an armchair in the corner of the room, and her square-shaped baby bed was filled with three stuffed plushies of a star, swan and a teddy bear with smiling faces, thin blankets rested atop.

“Hello there, my beautiful girl, how are you?” You said, in a warm tone, gently taking your baby from her arms.

“Nice to see you too,” your mom shot back, her eyes softened a bit.

You and Terry were married along with your baby girl, Raven, her hazel green eyes and brown skin, her tiny curls framed her face, She was so beautiful.

Your mom mean-mugged you, arms crossed. “I raised you, I know how to hold a baby, and why the hell would you name your child Raven anyway?”

Anger boiled within you, “It’s our baby, Mom, why do you think we had a private wedding, private pregnancy, private proposal, we wanted it to be just us,” you explained to her, narrowing your gaze at her.

You gained the baby weight, your tittes got bigger and tried to work out with Terry since he was looking mighty delectable lately, he reminded that it was progress, not perfection. It didn't help that random women over the internet were lusting over your man.

But he’s all yours now, he was an amazing husband to you, a great father to the baby.

You cradled Raven close, her soft whimpers fading as you rocked her gently. In that moment, everything felt right, but the tension in the room with your mother was palpable.

"Mom, I appreciate your help, but you need to respect our choices," you said firmly, your voice steady despite the frustration bubbling beneath the surface.

“Respect? You think marrying that man and having a child without telling me is respect?” she countered, her tone sharper than a knife's edge.

The baby began crying again, and you sighed. “See, you don't know what you're doing,”

You took a deep breath, fighting the urge to snap back. Instead, you focused on Raven's tiny fingers curling around yours. “He loves me, and he loves Raven. Isn’t that what matters?”

“Mhm, love this, love that,” she shot back, but the fire in her eyes dimmed just a little as she glanced at her granddaughter.

You backed away from your mom and sat down on the armchair, “Just leave me alone, I'm trying to comfort my child,” you pushed back, your tone laced with frustration.

Just then, the front door creaked open and closed shut, and there was Aaron, a breath of fresh air. Your dark brown skin shone underneath the light, your hair styled in black box braids, pulled back in a ponytail.

His tall frame filled the doorway, and you could see the weariness etched on his handsome face. His cornrows perfectly showing, his light skin shined under the light.

“Hey, my love, I'm home,” he called out, his voice wrapping around his words like a warm blanket. He pecked your forehead and your lips sweetly.

His eyes flicked toward the baby who smiled at Terry, once he picked up the baby in his arms.

Your heart swelled at the sight of him, and you felt the chaos in your mind begin to settle. As he stepped inside, you could see the way he lit up at the sight of you and Raven. “What’s going on in here?”

“Just a little family fight,” you replied, shooting your mother a pointed look.

Terry walked over, those warm eyes scanning the room before landing on you, his expression softening. “You alright, sweetheart?” he asked, concern lacing his voice.

You nodded, but the exhaustion was evident. “Just a bit overwhelmed. My first day back honey, you know?”

You sniffled and wiped your tears, “It is been so overwhelming lately, and i don't think that I can do this Terry, I…” your voice shaky and words stuttered, you got up and ran into the bedroom.

Terry finally put the baby to sleep, settling her in the bed, your mom followed behind the man into the bedroom.

He stepped closer, wrapping an arm around your waist and drawing you into his side. “You’re doing brilliant, babe. The world’s mad right now, but you’re handling it like a queen,” he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple.

Your mom huffed, crossing her arms again. “You call this handling it? She’s falling apart, Terry,.”

Terry’s gaze flicked to her, a hint of protectiveness in his stance. “And what do you know about it?” he challenged softly, but there was an underlying tension in his tone. “She’s just had a baby. This isn’t easy for any of us.”

You could feel the warmth radiate from Terry, and you leaned into him, feeling the weight of the world lift just a little. “I just wish…” you began, but the words caught in your throat.

You didn’t want to voice your insecurities, not now, not when he was trying to reassure you.

“Wish what, baby?” he prompted gently, his thumb stroking your arm soothingly.

“Nothing,” you finally said, but his eyes searched yours, and you could tell he wasn’t buying it. Your shiny wedding ring glowed brightly with the golden ring on his finger.

“Don’t lie to me, yeah? I know you better than that.” His voice was low, but it was filled with warmth and understanding.

You sighed, feeling the tears prick at the corners of your eyes. “I just feel so lost sometimes, Terry. I don’t know how to balance everything. I want to be a good wife, a good mother, and I feel like I’m failing.”

Tears falling down your face, crying softly. Feeling like the world was falling apart into tiny pieces.

He cupped your face, tilting it up to meet his gaze. “You’re not failing. You’re doing more than enough, and I’m here, every step of the way. We’re in this together, remember?”

His words wrapped around you like a healing balm, and you felt the tension in your chest ease. “I just need you, Terry. I need you to remind me that I’m not alone in this.”

“You could never be alone with me around,” he replied, his voice a low promise. “Let’s get through this together. And if anyone tries to come for you, I’ll be right here to defend you, baby. Always.”

Terry’s eyes flickered toward your mother, “And as for you, get the hell out of our house, now,”

Your mother’s mouth fell open, made an unpleasant noise, left the room and the house, and then slammed the door. You were bursting out in laughter with your husband.

“Now that is how you snap back,” You giggled with covering your mouth.

Watching Terry gently kissed her forehead, and gently settled the baby in her bed, hearing her softly snore peacefully.

The two of you quietly walk out of her bedroom, walking through the hallways and into the spacious bedroom. You grabbed your briefcase and settled it at the corner of the room. “I’m so happy you're home,” you coaxed softly, kissing his face.

As your mother left the room, Terry’s eyes darkened slightly, a playful glint appearing. “Now that we’ve dealt with that shit, how about we focus on something a bit more…intimate?” he suggested, a smirk playing on his lips.

You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks, and the flutter in your stomach ignited. “Intimate, huh?” you teased back, your voice dropping an octave.

“Yeah, baby,” he replied, stepping closer, his breath warm against your skin. “I’ve missed you, Y/N.”

“Missed me?” you echoed, your heart racing as he leaned in, his lips just inches from yours. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean, baby”

He leaned in closely and kissed you tenderly, he unbuttoned your work clothes, while you helped him slide off his grey tee shirt that was drenched in sweat, his earthy yet cinnamon cologne still on him.

His full lips enveloped your nipple as his other hand kneaded and squeezed the other one; you let out a soft whimper when his fingers grazed the stretch marks on your brown skin. The curve of your ass smacked by his hand. Was this man trying to get you pregnant again? He couldn't be devious, right?

“T-Terryyy..” you whimpered softly in his ear. Your nipples were still sensitive after breastfeeding Raven last night, he fingered your pussy slowly and pulled out. “Pleaseee..”

His hands spread your legs wide apart for him, those dreamy ocean eyes of his focused on your wet pussy like he wanted to sear the image in his brain just like those damn acronyms from his service of the Marine Corps, he wished to replace each letter of it with the sound of you, taste of you, your pretty face and your back arching. “My beautiful wife,” he said with a smile, he groaned lowly, His dick jumped and twitched at the thought, he needed you so badly.

You had a small request in your mind, you had to get it out immediately. “Terry, can you be a little rougher this time?” you asked with a lip pout.

He offered a reassuring nod, a playful smirk on his face as he positioned his dick at your entrance, gently pressing the tip in. "You're already so wet for me; I love you," he said in a deep voice, prompting you to moan uncontrollably, your gaze locked on his. "I-I love you too, shit!" you exclaimed.

He leaned in to kiss the tattoo on your shoulder, then pressed his lips against yours twice more. As he pushed your legs back, he dove his dick deeper into you. "Just like that; you take me so perfectly," he continued, his eyes drawn to the mess pooling beneath you, with breast milk trickling down his chiseled abdomen. Breaking the kiss, you let out another moan as he gradually filled you, thrusting deeper with each movement. He groaned in response, the soft squelching sound resonating throughout the bedroom.

“Shhh, you should be ashamed of yourself for the mess you made on Daddy’s dick, that pussy sucks me right back in,” Terry groaned out feeling your walls latching around and pulling him in once he began to move inside you, he felt your pussy pulsate onto him, that little heartbeat kept him fucking you deeply, “So fuckin’ tight, that’s my girl..” he praised deeply.

Right, your baby was still sleeping peacefully, you couldn't risk that yet you were on the verge of giving her another sibling right now, you kissed him sloppily again, while he kissed you back passionately.

“Apologize,” He demanded with that deep voice of his, his fingers pinched your sensitive nipples again and milk dripped from them. Your legs shaking at an overwhelming sensation.

Terry gives you long deep strokes while sucking on your nipple torturously, “I-I’m sorry Daddy, I-I can't help it…you’re j-just s-so big,” you babbled with a raspy moan, tears burned through your eyes, hearing him slurp and swallow your milk as his hips swiveling, wetting his dick up. Was this man trying to fuck and suck the life out of you? He was!

Thankfully, your baby was sound asleep in the room opposite yours, and you couldn't afford to disturb her after Terry had JUST gotten her to sleep. However, Terry had incredible stamina; thankfully, your evening workouts with him prepared you, or you would have been exhausted from this.

You managed to match him in the bedroom and were almost on the verge of giving her another sibling; your hand flew to your mouth and your eyes rolled back as he increased his speed. “I love it when this dick is inside me, fill me up so good babyy..” You moaned wildly, biting your lip, rolling your hips with him.

Terry’s hushed grunts and groans were deep and slightly raspy, biting down on his sexy lips, he watched your pussy make his dick disappear as he went in and out. “Mhmm, Such a needy little thing for this dick, aren't you?" he trailed off, smirking.

A sharp gasp for air escaped you, from the feeling of his thighs rubbing against yours, “Yesss,” the brief tap of his balls hitting your clit made you scream as if you were dying, pelvis meeting at your ass and breast milk poured out after jagged sloppy thrusts, “ it was charged with heat as Terry picked up his pace, his thrusts growing more fervent. “Oh..my..fuck!” you muffled your moan, eyes rolling back, nails digging into his back.

Terry’s hand rubbed your stomach in circles, thinking of filling you up with his warm cum, making you pregnant again but he couldn't do that. You were already stressed out with everything that was going on, but the way you called out to him and your pussy gripped him tight, made him want to give you a boy. Nah, it wouldn't be right. Bad Terry, be good.

Wait, the bed was creaking under both of you, your hand tapped his neck three times, that was the sign to stop with your consent and Terry stopped immediately, breaking his thoughts, His head lifted to look at you with genuine concern, “The bed is too loud, it might wake up Raven,” you whispered to him.

With that, his hands slid to your thighs, holding them firmly as Terry swiftly hoisted you up in a front-facing piggyback, your arms encircling his neck. feeling his tip kiss your cervix repeatedly. “Terry, fuck, the noises..” you mumbled out, referring to the wet noises of his dick being swallowed up by your pussy. He loved every bit of this, pleasure flowed through both of you.

Terry chuckled darkly, gazing into your pleasure-filled teary eyes, relishing in them falling down on your face, your back arched in the air as if on cue. “You know we have no control over this baby, you hear that shit?” Terry said in a deeper tone, your nipples rubbed onto his, and milk spilled down his chiseled chest and onto his dick. His tongue gliding on your nipple again while gazing at you lovingly.

You were quickly climbing that familiar peak, every thrust felt deeper making you go dumb and dizzy, laying your head onto his shoulder, “T-Terry, I'm close, i’m on the pill,” you managed to gasp out, your body trembling beneath him.

“Good, come with me, Y/N, let me feel everything,” he encouraged, his breath warm against your skin as he leaned down to capture your lips sloppy again. “Fuck me till we both can't move,” you requested, “Your wish is my command,” he said, The kisses were passionate, and nasty with spit chains connecting and reconnecting between his plump lips and yours, he felt so damn good, you wanted to feel him.

His hips stuttered and twitched, and Terry’s merciless thrusts turned sporadic into you, your screams became loud and he moaned deeply, “You sound sexy Terry..” you groaned out, loving his raspy moans, you felt your body coil tightly before the dam broke.

You cried out his name, the sound echoing in the room as you came undone around him. Your walls squeezed him tightly, essence spilled onto his thick dick, and the sensation pushed him over the edge as well. Wet noises and sloppy kissing were halted and remained silent.

Terry spilled his warm jets of cum inside of you, filling you up while your essence poured out your pussy, mixing with his cum, your breast milk dripped onto the floor, creating pools in between you. Your bodies shaking weakly together and flinch against each other after every move, “W-we really came together baby..” you babbled lazily.

After a moment of blissful silence, you both melted against each other, hearts racing and panting. You could still hear the faint sounds of Raven’s peaceful breathing from across the hall, and he gently laid you on your back on the bed, he pulled out of you, seeing his cum spill out of your pussy.

Terry brushed a few loose strands of braids from your face, his expression softening. “You okay?” he asked, concern flickering in his eyes as he studied you.

“More than okay,” you replied, a smile breaking through the remnants of your exhaustion. “I needed that.”

“Now, let’s get cleaned up before the baby wakes up,” he said, his tone teasing as he helped you off the bed. Terry carried you into the bathroom, he cleaned up the mess in the bedroom and prepared a hot bath for both of you.

Terry got into the foamy warm spacious huge bath with you, sitting across from you while your back lay against the back pillow on the white marble tile, the warm water enveloped you both. Its soothing touch eases the ache in your body, thighs, pussy, everywhere.

You leaned back, letting out a contented sigh as you watched Terry relax across from you. His strong arms rested on the edge of the tub, the water and lights above glistening on his skin.

“You feeling better baby girl? Just us for a moment,” he said, a playful smile on his gorgeous face.

“Yeah, I am, I missed this, I needed this from Terry,”

Terry’s gaze softened, and he leaned closer, the water sloshing gently around you both, “You know I'll always be here for you, right? No matter how chaotic things get?”

You nodded, feeling a wave of gratitude flow through you. “ I do, I just need to remember that sometimes. It's easy to get lost in everything,”

He reached out, his hand resting against your cheek. “Remember you can't be everything all at once, only yourself. You're doing amazing and Raven? She’s lucky to have you,”

“You know how to make me feel better Terry,” You replied with a warm smile, kissing his lips sweetly before pulling away.

“It’s what I’m here for,” he said with a reassuring tone, his lips pressed onto your forehead tenderly.

Both of you washed yourselves squeaky clean and dried off using the towels, getting dressed in Terry’s tee purple shirt, he slid on his grey sweatpants and got into bed, his wrapped around you protectively, both of you drifting off into a peaceful slumber.

————

[idyllicbarb]

FOREVER MY LADY, AARON PIERRE.

pairing: aaron pierre x actress!reader

summary: feelings rise after you and aaron co-star in the same film.

warnings: slow burn, slight angst, eventual smut, fluff.

music:

forever my lady by jodeci

safety net by ariana grande ft. ty dolla sign

georgia peach by latto

make it to the mornin’ by partynextdoor

bad by wale ft. tiara thomas

belong to the city by partynextdoor

next to you by bryson tiller

desert eagle by beyoncé

the matrimony by wale ft. usher

hey daddy by usher

love on top by beyoncé

one.

two.

three.

four

five.

six.

seven.

eight.

nine.

ten.

taglist: comment if you want to be tagged for this story, k bye!

[ranikyani]

📚 Daddy’s Library 📚

📖 Intro Page + About 📖

💌: Make sure you read warnings before engaging + Take care of yourself while reading, mwah💋

The Richmond Archives (3) | 🏛️ | A-I | J-R | S-Z# |

A collection of fics centered around Terry Richmond as a main character, exploring different stories, relationships, and adventures.

The Alias Archives | 🎭 |

A collection of fics featuring Aaron Pierre as a main character, but under a different name, exploring new identities and roles.

The Aaron Archives | 💚 |

A collection of fics featuring Aaron as himself as a main character, exploring different stories and relationships.

The Archive Allies:

@thevelvetwhispers @persethegawd @kelvinaaronlover

💌: Come get yall library cards, If you'd like to be added to tags for when I make library updates or other genre list lmk

[mymindisneverhere]

late night writes… short & sweet

18+ SMUT

Masterlist

Imagine… Terry makes you say your affirmations after hearing you speak negatively about yourself.

“look in the mirror while i play with that pussy”

he instructed, using his free hand to bring your head forward until you locked eyes with your reflection. you sat in between his legs on the plush rug that covered the floor. legs wide open, kitty on full display dripping into the crack of your ass and onto your brand new rug. your knees were bent and rested against his as he stroked your cunt with his thick fingers, leaving a glossy coating on his knuckles that ran down his fingers. his middle and ring finger working you over as the seconds went by…

“tell daddy you’re pretty baby”

“i’m pretty” you cried out both from the insane amount of pleasure and the fact that just a few hours prior you were announcing the total opposite. with you working long hours and being a full time student, it was hard to find the time to get dolled up. solely focusing on not missing work or assignments, you made no time for yourself and as the days went by your confidence started to fade. so when he asked you to get dressed because he wanted to take you out to dinner, a celebration of finishing yet another semester, you expressed to him that you weren’t feeling the prettiest and that you weren’t up for a late night date… why did you do that?

“tell me how pretty you look while I’m playing in that pretty pussy.”

“I look so pretty daddy” a combination of a whine and a moan leaving your lips as you struggled to push out those words. he didn’t like when you spoke down on yourself. usually a simple conversation would take place and then you two would continue on with the day but the negative self talk was happening way too often for his liking. although he never missed a moment of praising you not only for your gorgeous looks as well as your intellect, your personality, and just simply being you, it wasn’t enough if you didn’t believe it yourself… so he had his way of making you believe it.

“daddy’s baby look beautiful all the time don’t she?”

“yessssssss.”

his deep voice praising and encouraging you while his strong arm flexed with each pump of his fingers, sending you into another dimension. you tried your hardest to recite your affirmations for him for a second time but he wasn’t making it an easy task. his fingers left your opening for a second and made way to your swollen clit, spreading your juices all over your sex.

“daddy don’t like when you say mean things about yourself and you know that.”

“i’m sorry daddy.” your face swirled with ecstasy and sorrow as he toyed your clit in circles with his fingers. your hole pulsating from the absence of his fingers, longing to be filled again. he continued his circles, making you watch his every move. the two of you sat, cheek to cheek, ear to ear, watching your own private show.

“look at my pretty girl” he smiled, noticing your confidence grow by the second as you stared at your own reflection. taking in every part of your body coupled with the vulnerability he was forcing you to bring to the forefront. you were never ugly, your body was never the problem, you just needed a little boost that’s all. “you fucking up your rug princess.”

“i don’t care daddy, i wanna cum! please!” you were on the brink and he was slowing down, why would he slow down?

“all fours, put that ass in the air!” he said, releasing you from his grasp and watching as you assumed the position. chest pressed against the floor, back arched, both hands on your ass, spreading yourself open so he could get a view of everything, exactly how he liked it. standing up on his knees, he pulled the waist band of his sweats down, letting his dick hang free. dragging his thickness down the slick of your lips, he grabbed onto your hips with one hand and slid into you until his balls were pressed firmly against your clit. you felt every. single. inch.

“uh un look at yourself and start over.” he grabbed a handful of your hair and pulled back until you were staring directly into the mirror again. using his other hand to grip your throat, he demanded that you repeat your affirmations once again while he dug into you mercilessly.

‘i am beautiful’

‘i love my body.’

‘i love myself for who i am’

the list went on and on until he was pleased with you.

the more you spoke, the greater your desire to release was building. the sweet gushy sounds he was pulling from you was music to his ears. the feeling of his dick hitting your spot repeatedly along with his heavy sack slapping against your clit, you couldn’t hold it any longer.

“i love everything about myself” you cried out, finishing the last of your affirmations. “can i cum daddy? please, can i cum?” face twisted as you tried to wait for his permission, preparing yourself for the amazing feeling that was about to take you over.

“you can cum pretty girl”

“ahhhh, yes yes yes!” you yelled out in rhythm with his strokes. “don’t stop daddy, please don’t stop.”

“i won’t baby, get all that shit. you deserve it.” your eyes began to cross as you felt the flow running down your pussy, dripping onto the rug. you wanted so badly to collapse but the grip he had on your head kept you in place. your arms had given out a while ago. he kept going, ignoring the fact that you were already cumming profusely. “i don’t wanna hear that shit come out your mouth again.”

“it won’t daddy, i promise.” you cried out, practically pleading with him. you were overstimulated and damn near worn out, you didn’t think you could handle another one so soon. but he wasn’t slowing down, increasing his intensity with every thrust.

“you promise what?”

“i won’t be m-mean to myself a-again.” your breathing staggered as you tried your best to respond to him. you gasped from the feeling that was returning once again, the strong urge was coming so fast. you didn’t have time to brace yourself. you could hear yourself cumming all over him, making a total mess on his pants and the floor.

“oh my godddddd.” he continued pressing into you while at the same time soothing you, caressing your cheek with his thumb. he slowed his movements, finally coming to a stop as he watched your body shake under his grasp. carefully resting your head onto the floor, his hand slid down the length of your back, caressing your hips while you struggled to catch your breath.

“you alright pretty girl?”

“yes daddy.”

[ch33z3grits]

Crimson Obsessions | A Terry Richmond Vampire Series

pairing: Aaron Pierre as Terry Richmond x Justine Skye as Camille DeWaterson

warnings: 18+ mdni, smut (oral m and f receiving, p in v, overstimulation), dark romance, obsessiveness/possessiveness, pet names (baby girl, princess), cheating, financial abuse, mentions of BDSM themes, mentions of mental breakdowns, angst, manipulation

word count: 10,853

glossary:

Indulgences: human beings that vampires deem romantically and sexually desirable

The Veil: the dark magic that enhances supernaturals’ ability to manipulate the human world

Imps: demon-like supernaturals that can easily pass as human

a/n: Hi everyone! Thank you so much for your patience. I really needed this break to focus on my school and life priorities, so I appreciate you all for waiting. Also, thank you thank you thank you to everyone who wished me luck or gave me encouraging words under my last post. As always, comments and reblogs are appreciated. Enjoy! p.s: there are are several flashbacks in this chapter, which are the sections in purple :)

Camille's song: Fantasy-Mariah Carey and ODB | Terry's song: I'm Sprung-T-Pain

Pt. Ten

Camille

Two months.

Two months of undisturbed peace and joy Camille had once thought was the stuff of fairy tales.

Every time she woke up nestled in the protective, steady embrace of Terry, she had to resist the urge to pinch herself, sure that she was just dreaming. But each hypothetical pinch only reaffirmed the truth: the past few months of her being Terry’s girlfriend was real. Being free from Aston was real. The radio silence from her parents was real.

As the morning sunlight stretched across Terry’s bedroom walls, Camille blinked herself awake, her body unwilling to leave the comfort of Terry’s warmth. Her thoughts drifted to the day everything had changed. That devastating fire had left her apartment in ruins…But in that ruin, something new had begun. Terry had opened his door to her, offering nothing more than a cup of tea and a quiet place to grieve. But that night changed it all.

One minute, she was curled on his couch, hands trembling around a warm mug and eyes puffy from crying. The next, she was in his arms, being held like she was precious, kissed like she was unforgettable. Being carried off to his bedroom and tossed onto his bed. Getting turned every way but loose. Up until that moment, she had never experienced sex that explosive and consuming. The way he kissed her, the way he held her, the way he wrung orgasm after orgasm out of her…

It was as if he were casting a spell with every word, every kiss, every stroke.

And if that was Terry’s intention, then he had succeeded completely. Camille was his, and she wouldn’t have it any other way.

And as if his tenderness weren’t already overwhelming, he had offered her a kind of aftercare and reassurance that far exceeded anything she had ever imagined. Gentle words murmured against her skin, soft touches that anchored her, and an unwavering presence that made her feel seen, safe, and deeply cherished:

Camille’s breaths came out shallow and ragged as her body quivered from the intensity of her fourth orgasm. She felt the fullness of Terry’s lips give her shoulder a light kiss before he gently pulled her from her stomach and onto her back. But she couldn’t quite focus yet. She was still seeing stars as she barely processed his fingertips tracing along her jaw and cupping her cheek. Her eyes fluttered, the pull of sleep calling her. But four words brought her back to the present moment.

“I love you, Camille,” Terry’s deep voice whispered, sending a shiver down her spine.

Camille’s breath caught in her throat. He loved her? The man whose smile had haunted her daydreams, whose touch she craved, whose presence had slowly, steadily claimed her heart…he loved her? Somehow, she had his heart too?

She searched his face, trying to find even the faintest trace of doubt. But there was none. His gaze was steady, open, and unflinchingly sincere. And just like that, something inside her softened, broke, and bloomed all at once.

A smile tugged at her lips, trembling with emotion. Laughter bubbled up in her chest, light and disbelieving, as a single tear traced a warm path down her cheek. “I love you too, Terry,” she whispered through the giggle.

In that moment, lost in his eyes, she felt weightless. Wrapped in a happiness so pure it made her dizzy.

Terry gave her a tender smile and let out a soft chuckle that vibrated in his chest.

 “Good to hear, baby girl,” he murmured, his voice like velvet as he gently brushed the lone tear from her cheek with the pad of his thumb. “Now let me get you cleaned up.”

With effortless grace, he stood and scooped her into his arms, cradling her in a bridal-style hold that made her heart flutter. She instinctively curled into him, the steady beat of his heart echoing against her ear. He pressed a warm, lingering kiss to her forehead as he carried her, his steps unhurried.

He carried her into what she assumed was his bathroom, though it felt more like a private spa tucked away in a luxury hotel.

With careful precision, Terry lowered her onto the smooth marble countertop, the surface cool beneath her thighs and a stark contrast to the warmth radiating from his body. She let her fingers trail along the stone’s polished edge as she watched him move.

Terry crossed the expansive room with quiet confidence. He knelt beside an oversized soaking tub and turned the sleek taps. Water gushed out in a steady flow. He dipped his hand in, adjusting the temperature as he saw fit.

Steam began to rise almost immediately, coiling upward in slow, ghost-like ribbons. Camille watched him quietly as he reached for a glass jar, pouring what seemed to be a generous scoop of Epsom salts into the churning water. It was followed by a generous pour of fragrant oil from a dark bottle. He swirled them in gently, and within seconds, the air was thick with the grounding, refreshing scent of eucalyptus and something faintly citrusy.

The tension in her shoulders eased as she inhaled deeply, the aroma working through her like a balm. Everything about this moment, the serenity, the care in his movements, the warmth around her, felt like something sacred.

Terry moved toward a tall door on the far wall. Camille guessed it was a linen or supply closet. He disappeared behind it for a moment, the soft sounds of rustling fabric and the muted thump of stacked items shifting as he rummaged through the shelves.

Left alone, Camille let her eyes wander. The bathroom was a masterpiece of modern design and understated opulence. The floor beneath her feet was a stunning mosaic of black and white marble. Golden fixtures caught the light like glittering gems. A glass-enclosed rainfall shower stood in one corner.

Her gaze drifted back to the bathtub, still slowly filling with water. It looked like it belonged in a high-end spa rather than a bachelor’s apartment.

For the first time in a long time, Camille didn’t feel like she was carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders. Instead, it felt as if the universe had finally paused so she could exhale. For once, everything felt like it was exactly where it was supposed to be.

Terry reappeared at her side, holding a thick fluffy washcloth in his hands. Camille watched as he turned the sink’s faucet and slipped the towel under the warm water, waiting until it was just right before wringing it out. Then he turned to her, his eyes soft but focused, silently asking for permission as he stepped between her knees as he parted them. She didn’t say a word, she didn’t need to. Her body responded to him instinctively, trusting him completely.

He began to clean her, gently yet thoroughly, where their bodies had just been joined. There was no rush in his movements, no awkwardness or detachment. Only care with an intimate, featherlight touch. When he was finished, he cast the used cloth aside and met her eyes again.

No words passed between them, but Camille felt something deeper than conversation. And as she looked into his eyes, she silently hoped that he felt the same from her.

Terry stepped in closer, hands sliding beneath her thighs, tugging her gently until she was perched right at the edge of the counter. Her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, and she marveled at how effortlessly her body aligned with his.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for a moment like this,” Terry murmured, his lips brushing against her forehead.

A soft sigh slipped from Camille’s lips as her eyes fluttered closed. She leaned into him, pressing her body closer to him.

“Me too,” she whispered.

But as the dreamy, love-drenched fog in her mind began to clear. And with it came the voice she knew all too well. The overthinking Camille. The worrisome Camille.

What if this doesn’t mean what she thinks it does? What if he only said “I love you” because it was easier than dealing with silence? What if he meant it now, but woke up one day and simply… didn’t?

Her stomach dropped.

I shouldn’t have done this, Camille thought. I shouldn’t have let myself feel this much. Shouldn’t have handed my heart over so easily.

As if reading her thoughts, Terry pulled back slightly. His hands moved to grab her face. His thumbs brushed against her cheeks, coaxing her to meet his gaze.

“What’s on your mind, baby?” Terry asked softly, eyes scanning hers. “Something’s bothering you, I can feel it.”

His thumbs brushed against her cheeks as she closed her eyes shut for a moment, summoning some courage. She just hoped he would meet her vulnerability with truth.

“What… what are we now?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. “I-If you don’t want a relationship, I get it. I promise, I get it.”

Her stomach dropped even further at the idea of being nothing more than a temporary fling for him. 

“But I just… I want us to be on the same page,” she finished.

Terry exhaled a quiet grunt as he looked her over thoughtfully, as if he was forming his words carefully.

“Camille,” he began slowly, his voice calm but firm, “I’ve told you how I feel. More than once. You really think I’d say that if I didn’t mean it?” His brow furrowed slightly, not with anger, but hurt. “I’d never play with you like that. Ever.”

He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss against her lips. “How can I help you trust me more?” he asked.

Camille bit her lip, guilt prickling beneath her skin. The truth was, it wasn’t him, it was her. It was the way her past had conditioned her to see love as conditional and transactional. Her parents only loved her when she performed and made them look good. Aston only loved her when she bent to fit his expectations. No one, outside her siblings and a few close friends, had ever loved her simply for being her.

And Terry… she couldn’t see how she could make herself valuable to him. 

“I-I don’t think you’re misleading me,” she said quietly, her eyes falling to her hands. “I just… I know how feelings can change. How they can fade without warning. I’ve seen it happen. I’ve felt it happen. And I know sometimes we mistake chemistry for something it’s not.”

She took a breath.

“I just don’t want to be blindsided… if one day you wake up and realize I’m not what you want.”

Terry’s expression softened. “I don’t understand why you think my feelings would just… disappear,” he said gently, his voice carrying genuine confusion. “But…”

His tone shifted. The assertive, confident tone returned. “If you’re willing, can I show you how serious I am? Camille, you’re more than worth the effort to me. I’ll pull out every stop, no hesitation. I want to give you the kind of love and relationship you’ve always deserved. If you’ll let me.”

Camille’s heart swelled, but doubt still ran through her.

“But… what if I can’t give you the trust you deserve?” she asked.

Terry didn’t hesitate. “Then we’ll deal with it,” he said simply, firmly, like it was already decided. “Together. I’m way too sure about you to let a little fear keep us from something real.”

Her eyes welled up, and she turned her head away, unable to meet his gaze. “I just don’t want to disappoint you,” she whispered.

His hand gently cupped her jaw, coaxing her gaze back to his. “And you won’t, princess,” he murmured. “I promise you, this will only get better with time. I’m not going anywhere. Alright?”

She hesitated for a heartbeat, then nodded. “Alright,” she breathed.

Terry’s signature grin broke across his face. “That’s my girl,” he said, his tone rich with affection and pride.

He tightened her legs around his waist and lifted her with ease.

“Now,” he said, his voice taking on a protective edge as he walked toward the tub, “tell me about all the stuff that’s been troubling you. I want my baby relaxed and at peace. So I’m gonna do whatever it takes to make sure you never have to deal with that shit again.”

And with that, he stepped into the warm, fragrant bath, the water wrapping around them in a soothing embrace as he settled with her in his arms.

Warm arms tightened around her, gently pulling her from her flashback. Camille stirred from her thoughts with a smile, turning just enough to catch the soft glint of Terry’s half-lidded eyes. Sleep still clung to his lashes, but his gaze was locked on her, lazy and affectionate. Without a word, he nuzzled closer, burying his face into the curve of her neck and wrapping her tighter in his embrace.

She sighed and let herself sink into him. Her mind wandered back to everything that had unfolded since the day their relationship officially began.

True to his word, Terry had shown up for her in every way that mattered.

The day after they first made love, he had taken it upon himself to help her tackle the chaos that had been quietly draining her. He gently, but firmly, encouraged her to consider a leave of absence from work, sensing her burnout before she even had the words for it. At first, she had questioned the idea. But he made a compelling case and she realized just how much she had been carrying without complaint.

Thanks to his unwavering support, and probably a healthy dose of his signature charm, her FMLA approval process was seamless. She was stunned when they approved her request without hesitation, granting her three months of leave. It was unpaid, yes, but came with the golden promise of job security. 

Without the daily stress of her job pressing down on her, she found space to pour back into herself. She began to prioritize her mental health, reconnect with forgotten hobbies, and strengthen the relationships she still had. And Terry was there through all of it, not hovering, not controlling. Just present, a steady force.

And then there was the apartment.

She almost didn’t believe it when he showed her the listing. A sun-drenched one-bedroom with modern finishes, in a luxury building right across the street from his apartment. It sounded too good to be true, especially for the price. But it was real, and the space had turned into a lease within a week.

The apartment itself was perfect, almost eerily perfect. Floor-to-ceiling windows, a panoramic view of the city, Terry’s building directly across from hers. She couldn’t see the penthouse that was at least 10 floors higher than hers. But it still felt symbolic somehow, like the universe had placed her close enough to love but still gave her something entirely her own.

But perhaps the most life-changing gift Terry gave her wasn’t something he did, it was something he allowed. He encouraged Camille to become a fuller, more authentic version of herself. Not the version she’d spent years perfecting to survive. Not the polished, agreeable, overachieving mask she wore for her parents, for Aston, or for work, but the real her. The layered, imperfect, evolving self she’d once been afraid to show.

Terry never obsessed over status or success. He didn’t care about impressing the right people at the right parties or scaling some invisible social ladder. Instead, his conversations flowed with ease, always perfectly in tune with the moment. One minute, he could dive deep into a thoughtful topic that left her contemplating long after he had stopped speaking. The next, he would be making her shake with laughter with a ridiculous impersonation or an absurd scenario he had made up just to see her smile.

He was effortlessly multidimensional. Playful, charismatic, seductive... He wore every shade of himself openly, without shame. And in doing so, he gave her permission to do the same.

With Terry, Camille didn’t feel the pressure to perform. She didn’t have to shrink herself to fit someone else’s ideal or soften her edges to keep the peace. She could be opinionated. She could be silly. She could cry without apology, laugh without restraint, and admit when she didn’t have the answers.

She’d started to share parts of herself she’d kept tucked away for years. Her weird humor, her childhood dreams, her random obsessions. And instead of recoiling or dismissing her, Terry leaned in with genuine curiosity, as if each layer of her only made her more fascinating to him.

And somewhere along the way, Camille realized she no longer feared being seen. Not by him. Not by anyone else. Not even herself.

Camille smiled as she felt lips subtly press against her neck, inching closer and closer to her ear.

“Baby, come on, I have to leave soon,” she giggled, feeling her naked body warming with each kiss. If Terry hadn’t shown her anything these past few months, he definitely showed her he was insatiable. Whether he had just fucked her with ferocious passion or made love to her with the most fulfilling care, he was always wanting more after. And Camille almost always succumbed to him. That’s how she ended up spending the night.

As cozy as she felt in Terry’s embrace, Camille knew she had to start moving. The day ahead was already full. She needed to head back to her apartment to freshen up before driving to the airport to meet her sister, Chloe. After months apart, the idea of finally seeing her in person had her buzzing with excitement. Texts and video calls were comforting, but they could never replace a real hug, the inside jokes exchanged through glances, or the way they could fall into step with each other like no time had passed at all.

After picking her up, they would drop her bags off at her hotel. Camille had offered her place, but her sister declined with a polite smile and a promise that it wasn’t personal. Camille suspected she just needed some space. This trip to Houston was Chloe’s first real break from what seems to be a pretty demanding marriage. Camille didn’t want to crowd her, but she couldn’t help the tiny pang of disappointment that they wouldn’t have a chance for a sleepover.

Terry stirred behind her. His arm tightened around her waist, and she felt his lips brush against her shoulder with a smile.

“I know,” he murmured, voice husky with sleep, “but five more minutes, baby? I just want to hold you a little longer.” He pulled her closer, burying his face into the curve of her neck. She let out a soft laugh, rolling her eyes playfully. “Fine,” she sighed, melting back into him, “but only five.”

Terry hummed in satisfaction, the low sound vibrating against her skin like a contented purr. Camille relaxed into his hold, fingers absently tracing the arm wrapped around her. Then she remembered something. “Don’t you have plans today too? Something with Jabari?” He didn’t respond right away, but she felt the subtle shift in his energy.

Camille had noticed it more and more lately: the quiet pride Terry carried when he talked about his protégé. He didn’t speak on it often, but in rare moments, it was obvious that Jabari was more than just a mentee. He was like a little brother to Terry. Terry had mentioned in passing that Jabari was getting promoted within the realty organization that he co-owned, and the gleam in his eyes when he said it hadn’t gone unnoticed.

“You're proud of him,” she said softly, half teasing, half admiring. Terry’s smile widened against her skin. “Yeah,” he admitted. “He’s worked hard. He deserves this.” Camille’s heart warmed at the sound of it. Even in moments like this, Terry’s capacity to care, to invest in others, never failed to move her.

“But, that’s later tonight,” he chuckled, his hands sliding down to squeeze her ass. “So I’m in no rush.”

“Hey!” Camille mildly chastised. “Keep your hands above the waist only, sir.” 

“Yeah?” Terry breathed, his hands moving up to cup her breasts, lightly pinching her nipples. She gasped, lightly hitting his hands as their laughter filled the room.

A few minutes later, Camille stood in the middle of Terry’s walk-in closet as she sifted through several of his drawers. She reached for one of his t-shirts and tugged it over her head. She paired it with a pair of his basketball shorts that she had to roll several times to keep them from sliding off her hips.

True to form, Terry insisted on walking her back to her building, even though it was quite literally across the street. Each time he did it, Camille bit back a grin. The distance between their front doors couldn’t have been more than 200 feet, but you’d think she was trekking through a war zone the way he hovered protectively by her side. Still, she couldn’t help but appreciate the gesture. 

Once they reached the door to her apartment, he wrapped her in a long, lingering embrace. They shared several slow, affectionate kisses, each one softer than the last, like punctuation marks on a sentence neither of them wanted to end.

Then, as Camille reluctantly pulled back, a thought sparked in her mind. “Terry, do you think Lorenzo could take us to lunch and bring us back later? I have a strong feeling Kali and Chloe are going to want to split a margarita pitcher.”

Terry chuckled, already reaching for his phone. “Yes, ma’am. Just tell me what time you want him outside.”

Camille grinned. She liked Lorenzo, the friendly driver who occasionally chauffeured them to dinner dates or events. He was polite, occasionally engaging in light conversation when prompted. Every so often, she caught him staring a little longer than necessary in the rearview mirror, but he never crossed a line, and she brushed it off as curiosity more than anything else.

“Okay,” she said, stepping onto her toes to give him one more kiss. “Love you. Let me know how tonight goes, please?”

“I love you too, Cam. And I will,” he murmured, his smile easy. With one final squeeze of her hand, he turned and made his way back toward the elevators. Camille lingered in her doorway for a moment, her heart full.

Terry

Words could barely describe how good life had been to Terry these past two months. Every time Camille stirred beside him, kissed him freely, moaned his name, or shared a moment with him, it confirmed that all the sacrifices, the calculated moves, the chaos he created to get here had been worth it. Every last bit.

The abrupt relocation to Houston had been a gamble. Uprooting his life in D.C, convincing his most trusted people— who were spread out across the country—to make the leap with him, had taken more effort than he cared to admit. And settling into a high-profile corporate law firm filled with white faces, polished egos, and superficial smiles hadn’t exactly thrilled him. 

Then there had been the nuisance of navigating her ex. Aston. Just the thought of him still made Terry’s jaw tense. Dealing with that mess had tested every ounce of his restraint, but he had handled it without dragging Camille into a situation she couldn’t get out of. And of course, there was Stephanie… Using her to get closer to his goal had almost turned messy. But it had served its purpose. All of it had.

And now?

Now, he woke up every day either beside or across the street from the woman who had been the object of his obsession. Each sleepy blink of her eyes in the morning light, every smile that tugged at her lips when she found his arms around her, it reminded him why he had done it all. Camille wasn’t just someone he loved. She was the reason behind his moves. His endgame. His peace.

And with her…because of her, he finally felt that his too-long life was complete.

His immortal existence, stretching over two centuries, had given him much: power, wealth, and influence that was beyond his imagination. But it had come at a steep cost. Though he didn’t mourn the frailty of his human body, there were parts of his humanity he missed with a quiet, aching intensity.

He missed being a part of a human community, missed the joy of true companionship. He missed the urgency of finite time. The way humans cherished a sunrise, or a last kiss, simply because they knew it wouldn't last. That sense of fragility, of impermanence, once gave life a sweetness he hadn’t realized he craved until it was gone.

For decades following the night he was turned back on a Georgia plantation in 1792, he practically got high off his new identity. The unimaginable strength. The ability to control those around him. Interact with white folks any way he pleased without consequence. For a while, nothing could top those feelings and experiences.

But eventually, even the finest pleasures dulled. The money grew tedious. The influence felt hollow. And the years, so many endless, unchanging years, began to weigh on him.

Desperate to feel something real again, he turned his efforts toward connection. Philanthropy. Leadership. Immersing himself in the lives of humans without ever fully belonging to them. He built charities, sat on boards, shook hands and made speeches. Volunteering gave him glimpses of what he’d once been. Moments of borrowed humanity.

But no matter how hard he tried, something always pulled him back into the truth of what he was. The thirst for blood that popped up at the most inconvenient times. The constant lust that curled like smoke beneath his skin. The violence that simmered just beneath the surface, ready to rise. And even as he smiled in public and tried to pass as human, he always knew: he could never truly go back.

He accepted the duality eventually and crafted a persona that could exist in both worlds. But it never stopped hurting when he saw other vampires slowly find their way back to something meaningful. Some found human partners. Some even built families. Others discovered faith, or purpose, or peace.

But not him.

For years, Terry watched the others move forward while he remained locked in place. He told himself it didn’t bother him. That he was above needing those things. But deep down, bitterness grew. A quiet envy bloomed.

And then he met her. Something shifted the moment he first laid eyes on Camille. It wasn’t the typical thrill of attraction, though she was beautiful. It was something deeper. A pathway back to humanity. 

Their connection gave him hope for a new beginning for him. And in that moment, he made a decision: he would move heaven and earth, push through any obstacle, burn through any lie or legacy if it meant holding onto her.

Now, months later, he was living it. Waking up beside her. Laughing with her. Learning her rhythms, her fears, her heart. And slowly, feeling parts of himself return that he thought he had lost permanently. 

Camille didn’t just make his existence bearable. She made it matter.

With this newfound appreciation for life, Terry had begun to look at everything in his world with sharper eyes and deeper gratitude. Tonight’s gathering was no exception. It wasn’t just another formality, it recognized Jabari’s growth as a vampire.

The ceremony would mark his formal recognition by the elder vampires, blessing him with the knowledge of the Veil. The power was reserved only for those the elders deemed trustworthy and mature enough to wield it. It wasn’t given lightly. But these past few years, no one could deny that he didn’t earn it.Jabari was still considered young by immortal standards. It’s barely been seven years since he turned. He was just doing his job and protecting others, breaking up a club fight gone wrong. But he ended up getting shot and bleeding out on the club floor while people scrambled away. Whoever had turned him had likely acted out of guilt. They were perfectly capable of stopping the fight, but left a human to do it. But no one will ever know. No one ever stepped forward to claim responsibility. All anyone knew was that he was dropped outside the doors of Crimson, unconscious. Just dumped at Terry’s doorstep like a problem someone else didn’t want to deal with.

Normally, Terry would’ve just offered a few words of counsel and sent him on his way. Let him figure out immortality on his own, like so many before him. But there was something about the kid that gave him pause. Maybe it was how devastated he was, the disbelief when he realized what he had become. 

Terry had pitied him at first. That pity turned into a job offer. But Jabari refused to stop there. He began shadowing Terry, watching how he moved through both the human and vampire worlds. He asked questions. Took notes. He was determined to wrestle back control of the life that had been stolen from him. And over the years, their mentor-mentee relationship evolved into an unspoken bond similar to brotherhood.

Terry had never admitted it aloud, but watching Jabari find his footing in this strange life gave him a sense of pride. The boy’s success felt like a shared victory. 

A smile tugged at the corner of his lips, as Terry slowly sifted through rows of dark, tailored jackets and crisp, expensive shirts, searching for the right ensemble for the evening ahead. 

But it was fleeting.

The smile dissolved just as quickly as it came, replaced by that all-too-familiar ache that had been haunting him ever since the first time he had Camille in his bed. He groaned under his breath as the sensation surged through him. His fangs descending slightly, brushing against the inside of his bottom lip. A thin thread of drool followed, and he swiped it away with the back of his hand, jaw clenched tightly.

It wasn’t just desire anymore. It was need. A hunger that had taken root deep in his gut, demanding Camille’s blood more and more with every passing day.

Ever since they made love, his body couldn’t find satisfaction in other sources. He tried everything to curb the desire. Stockpiling rare blood types in his hidden mini fridge, mixing dark liquor into his rations, increasing his overall intake…but it was no use. Sure, he was still able to sustain himself the way he always did. But, the hunger remained. Persistent.

It wasn’t just that he wanted to feed, he wanted to feed from her. And only her.

The smell of her blood called to him like a siren, stronger than anything he had ever experienced. It was somewhat maddening. Most days, he wrestled it down, buried it beneath restraint and reason. But even his centuries of discipline were being tested now. Any time she was around, his mask threatened to slip. But it never did. But one night last week, he almost lost all control:

The scent hit him before he was even in front of the door. Rich butter, slow-roasted garlic, and a hint of something sweet and peppery curling through the air, tugging at him, coaxing him into Camille’s apartment.

Camille had offered to cook for him after he had mindlessly mentioned how annoying his day had been on a call they had earlier. He hadn’t meant it as a complaint, but she heard the fatigue in his voice anyway. “Come over,” she had said gently. “Let me take care of you tonight.”

Of course, he accepted. The promise of her food and her company had been the one thing that helped him grit his teeth through the remainder of the workday. He left the office a half-hour early, tore through traffic, and only paused at his own place long enough to change into a fitted tee and sweatpants.

Then he made the short walk across the street and up to the apartment that he secretly owned and leased to Camille at only thirty percent of what it was worth. He had no shame in making her believe their close proximity was just a happy coincidence. Besides, it was one of the more respectable things he had done behind her back. What he did to her parents to get them to leave her alone… that was actually a little shameful. But he couldn’t care about that now. He had dinner to eat.

She had left the door unlocked for him, allowing him to slip inside without a sound. He turned the corner into her kitchen, the view stopping him cold.

Camille stood at the stove, back turned, swaying ever so slightly to the music playing low from her phone. One of his t-shirts clung to her in the most perfect way, the fabric slipping off one shoulder, hanging just long enough to tease the curve of her thighs. She was barefoot, standing on the balls of her feet as she reached up for a spice jar, the stretch accentuating her ass barely covered by tiny sleep shorts and her shapely, smooth legs. 

She was humming some tune. Completely at ease in the warmth of her kitchen, bathed in the golden light that spilled from overhead. 

Damn, she was beautiful.

Terry stood in the doorway, his hands clenching slowly at his sides as he soaked in every detail. The smoothness of her skin. The faint scent of jasmine, lavender, and vanilla cutting through the smell of food. The subtle shift of her heartbeat. Each beat thudded in his ears. And it called to the darkest part of him, the primal part that wanted her blood spilling down his throat as he filled her up with his cum. 

And as she stood there, humming and stirring a pan of something that smelled too good to be real, she had no idea how close he was to losing control.

He swallowed hard, forcing himself to breathe and keep the monster leashed. He decided he would channel his hunger into a… different appetite for her. 

She turned slightly, her eyes landing on him. Her entire face lit up with an eager, radiant grin that nearly knocked the breath from his lungs.

“Hi, baby! You’re early,” she greeted. Without hesitation, Camille wiped her hands on a dish towel before rushing across the kitchen to throw her arms around him. 

“I’m making your favorite,” she added, pulling back just enough to look up at him with a sparkle in her eye. “Figured you’d want that after the day you had.”

He didn’t answer. 

He just grabbed her chin to pull her into a sloppy, slow tongue kiss, making her moan into his mouth. He pulled away to let her catch her breath and he stared down at her with hooded eyes. 

“Can I have my dessert before dinner?” He asked, already tugging her shorts down and slipping to his knees. She sucked in a breath, nodding as she looked down at him. 

“Only if it doesn’t ruin your appetite,” she murmured, bracing herself against the kitchen island. He smirked, pulling her panties to the side. Trust me, it won’t, he thought as his tongue slipped between her folds, her taste making him groan and his bulge throb. 

A sharp gasp caught in her throat as she threw her head back.

Nearly breathless moans and sharp cries of his name spilled from her lips as he devoured her. He didn’t stop when her legs shook uncontrollably. He didn’t stop when her juices soaked his chin. He didn’t even stop when her thighs started to squeeze around his head. This wasn’t just for her. He had a thirst to quench.

But he knew the burning desire in him wouldn’t settle down until he was inside of her. So he eventually rose to his feet, pulled his dick from his sweatpants and moved in between her legs as her hands caressed his torso. He teasingly rubbed his tip against her sensitive clit, pulling a weak whine from her. He smirked as he leaned in to pull her bottom lip into his mouth, sinking into her at the same time. He paused to give her time to adjust to his fullness, deepening their kiss. He hissed as he felt her flutter around him.

Then, he buried himself deep inside of her. Each roll of his hips was deep and reverent, fogging his mind with intoxicating pleasure.

Each moan from his baby’s lips brought him closer to his high. But it also seemed to make the smell of the fluid pumping through her veins even more noticeable. As he got lost in Camille, he got even more lost in her scent. He moved from her lips to her neck, trailing wet kisses and nips everywhere.

It would just be one bite. One quick bite. It would hurt for her at first, but the pain would be swiftly replaced with pleasure. She would have the best orgasm of her life. She would be able to forgive him, wouldn’t she? For him making her his entirely?

The thoughts clawed at the edges of Terry’s mind, his hunger scratching at his self-control with every passing second. Camille’s body pressed against him, her scent, all of it wrapped around him like a drug. It fogged his senses and all that remained was instinct.

His jaw unhinged, fangs lengthening and aching to pierce. His hands tightened around her spread thighs, holding her in place, and his head dipped toward her neck. The delicate thrum of her pulse beneath that soft skin was too tempting. Too close.

Just one fucking bite…

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

The piercing shriek of the smoke detector shattered the moment like glass.

Camille let out a startled yelp. Instinctively, they both turned toward the stove.

The pan on the burner hissed angrily, oil crackling at the edges, while faint curls of smoke spiraled into the air. Camille rushed forward, snatching a dish towel to drag the pan off the heat, twisting the knob to kill the burner.

At the same time, Terry stretched his arm upward with unhurried precision, flipping the tiny switch on the smoke detector until the shrill noise cut off with a final beep.

For a moment, they just stood there in front of the stove. Then, they looked at each other. Without warning, laughter erupted between them and they began to adjust their clothes. But beneath the sound, under the surface of his smile, Terry was uneasy. He had almost lost control. Again. And he would have fed from her if not for the goddamn smoke detector.

The laughter felt hollow in his chest now, a cover for the panic pounding in his veins. He’d been seconds away from something that would have shattered everything they had.

He needed to meet with Elijah. Soon. He couldn’t afford to let this craving spiral any further. Because next time, there wouldn’t be a smoke alarm to snap him out of it.

“It was just the truffle sauce,” Camille giggled as she stared into the pan. “That won’t take too much time to remake. Do you mind the extra wait?” She asked, giving him an expectant look. Terry smiled. “Of course not, princess.”

“Good,” she hummed as she slyly approached him. His eyebrow raised as she began to crouch in front of him, pulling at the band of his sweatpants, freeing his still-hard dick. She licked her lips as she watched it slapped against his stomach. Then her eyes met his again, full of seductive promise. “Because we weren’t finished.”

The chime of his phone snapped Terry out of the memory. He blinked, and with a low exhale, he pulled the device from his pocket and glanced at the screen.

A message from Lorenzo lit up beneath his thumb: Just picked up Camille and her guests. Heading to the restaurant now.

Terry liked the message, the corner of his mouth twitching with faint approval. He made a mental note to light a protection candle for them before he left for the ceremony. He didn’t think anything would happen, but he wanted to be extra precautious.

Sliding the phone onto a nearby dresser, he returned to rummaging through his closet. Anything to distract from the primal hunger still simmering low in his gut. He clenched his jaw. Forced his breathing steady.

It was ridiculous, this ache. Irrational. He’d lived for over two centuries with perfect control. He had resisted worse. But Camille was something different entirely.

He would hold himself together, though. He had to.

Lorenzo

Lorenzo sat idling in front of Camille DeWaterson’s apartment building, the engine of the sleek black truck purring softly beneath him. A chill settled over him as he thought about the day ahead. He would cherish the moment he would have to see Camille without Terry looming over them. Usually, their paths crossed only when Terry took her out on a date and didn't feel like driving. Maybe eight times in the past few months. Every encounter, he walked on eggshells, keeping conversations light and superficial, never daring to flirt or show his attraction to her. He didn’t want to set off Terry, a terrifying man who he knew would rip him apart if his gaze lingered on her for too long. 

But today was different. Today, he might have a chance to speak with Camille more freely, even if she was accompanied by others. His heart quickened at the thought and he smiled as he imagined her laughter. 

But as he continued to wait, his smile disappeared as his mind wandered to the evening ahead. Later tonight, he would be reminded of his place in the vampire world. Or rather, his lack of it. He'd be driving Terry to the ceremony dedicated to Jabari's promotion, a promotion that should have been his. Sure, Jabari had the support of one of the most high-ranking supernaturals in the state by being Terry’s right hand man. But Jabari had been turned only seven years ago, while Lorenzo had been turned over eighteen years ago. Eighteen years of being overlooked, of being nothing more than a chauffeur in the eyes of those who held power.

No one had ever given him a chance to prove himself. No one had ever offered him access to the inner circles, to the spaces with Indulgences. He remained the lowly driver. Yes, he was paid handsomely, no other driver in Houston was raking in five-figure months. But this was beyond the money now. He had aspirations beyond being in a driver's seat. He wanted power, respect, a place among the elite. But no one gave a damn.

So when a mysterious older white man approached him a month ago, promising him power beyond Terry’s and a chance to take what belonged to him, he didn't hesitate:

Lorenzo eased the sleek black car to a stop in front of the building that served as the public face of the vampire den. By all outward appearances, it looked like it was only some snobby, upscale club. But the adventurous sex enthusiasts of Houston knew it was a BDSM club. And beyond that, vampires from all over convened there for council, ceremony, and control. Or they scouted for Indulgences. Or both. It was a sanctum for the powerful, and a symbol of everything he didn’t have.

With a practiced motion, he popped open his door and circled around to the back, smoothing out the front of his jacket. He wore the usual polite half-smile he wore for Terry, not too eager, not too indifferent. Just enough to appear professional. Subservient.

He swung the car door open, and Terry stepped out without even glancing at him, eyes too glued to his phone. He brushed past Lorenzo with quiet authority.

“I’ll only be thirty minutes,” Terry said over his shoulder.

“Yes, sir. I’ll be here,” Lorenzo replied evenly, forcing the words out through clenched teeth.

And then Terry was gone, swallowed by the heavy doors and the shadows behind them.

As soon as they shut, Lorenzo’s smile crumbled. He muttered “motherfucker” under his breath and stomped back into the driver’s seat, yanking the door closed. He sat for a moment, jaw tightening in resentment. 

“Thirty minutes,” he scoffed, starting the car with a low growl. “Whatever, nigga.”

He pulled away from the curb and headed down to a bar a few blocks away. He was a regular, so he got deals and it had just enough noise from the TVs to drown out his thoughts.

A beer. Maybe two. Something to take the edge off. And maybe, if the stars aligned, a game worth half a damn to distract him from the reminder that he would always be the one waiting in the car.

After parallel parking along a nearly empty street, Lorenzo stepped out into the humid night and made his way into the buzzing bar. The door creaked open to reveal a dull roar of conversation and clinking glasses. A few TVs flickered overhead, each tuned to something that barely held anyone’s interest.

He claimed an empty stool near the end of the bar. With a quick nod to the bartender, he ordered a cold beer and planted his elbows on the wooden countertop. As the glass slid his way, he pulled out his phone and set a timer for ten minutes. No more than that. Just enough to unwind without getting distracted.

He turned his gaze toward the nearest screen and groaned inwardly. Soccer. And golf. That was it. He took a long pull from the beer anyway, letting the bitterness dull his frustration.

Then he felt a presence settling beside him. Someone had slid into the seat to his right, quiet but deliberate. Lorenzo didn’t look at first. He didn’t care. Until a glint of an expensive watch caught his eye. Far too expensive for this side of town, let alone this time of night. His brow furrowed as he stole a better look. Not just expensive. Elite. The kind of piece worn by men like Terry when walking into high-stakes deals.

The man beside him spoke, his deep Southern voice smooth and confident.

“It’s a Patek Philippe.”

Lorenzo blinked, turning his head slightly. “What?”

The stranger angled toward him, offering a tight-lipped smile. “The watch,” the man said, lifting his wrist casually. “Patek Philippe. You should remember the name. Maybe one day you’ll own one.”

Lorenzo stared, skeptical. “Right…”

Another rich asshole slumming it for kicks, he thought. A rich, dumb human. He shook his head and muttered, “Sure, man. At the rate that I’m going with my job, I won’t be seeing that kind of money in this lifetime.”

He took another sip of his beer, expecting the conversation to dissolve into nothing. But it didn’t.

Instead, the stranger stayed silent for a moment, then leaned in just enough for his next words to only be heard by him. “Would you like for that to change, Lorenzo?”

Lorenzo stiffened. He turned slowly, the glass halfway to his mouth, becoming much more alert.

“…Do I know you?”

The man’s lips curled and his eyes glinted with something unsettling. 

“Not yet,” he replied smoothly. “But we have something in common.”

And then it happened. So fast, it almost didn’t register. The man’s pupils rolled back, revealing irises that glowed deep crimson, slitted like a serpent’s. Lorenzo’s breath caught in his throat.

An imp.

The kind of demonic supernatural you only heard about in hushed conversations. They were rarely a direct threat to the powerful vampires, but they were unpredictable. And Lorenzo didn’t want to take any risks.

He fumbled for his wallet, yanking it from his back pocket and preparing to slap a ten down on the bar. He didn’t care about the drink or his little pity party anymore. Everything in him screamed to move.

But just as he began to rise, a pale hand closed around his wrist. 

“Relax, Lorenzo,” the imp said softly, voice low and strangely calming. “I’m not here for trouble. I’m here to offer you something I think you’ll want to hear.”

Lorenzo didn’t sit, not right away. He stayed half-standing, poised to run. His eyes flicked to the bar’s exit. Then back to the imp. The stranger tilted his head slightly, unbothered by the tension radiating from Lorenzo. His expression was patient.

“I took the time to learn your name,” he added. “Don’t you think that makes me at least worth listening to?”

Lorenzo hesitated. It was a risk. But if this imp knew who he was, then maybe walking away wasn’t the safest option either. Slowly, cautiously, he sat back down, eyes never leaving the man.

“Alright,” Lorenzo said, voice low and guarded. “Talk.”

“Atta boy,” the stranger drawled. “How would you like to take Terry’s place?”

Lorenzo's breath caught, a dry chuckle escaping his lips as he tried to mask the unease creeping up his spine. “What is this about?”

The imp sighed. “Fine, I’ll just hop straight to it. Terry has got my son, Aston, into some trouble. And to get him out of that trouble, I need you to get Terry to separate from that little girlfriend of his. I’m sure you know her. Camille?”

Lorenzo tensed, his pulse quickening. The imp continued, his tone unchanging. “Now I don’t want to bring any harm to Camille. I know you’re sweet on her. I just need to get her to my son. You see, they’re old friends—”

“Why can’t your son do all this for himself?” Lorenzo interrupted, his voice sharper than intended. An imp, in theory, was strong enough to take on Terry.

The imp's smile cracked for a moment, a flicker of something darker passing through his eyes before he regained his composure. “My son, unfortunately, came out human like his mother. He could never have the power to separate a vampire from his Indulgence.”

Lorenzo's skepticism deepened.

“I’m sorry, sir, but this sounds ridiculous. I’m not interested,” Lorenzo said, his voice steady despite the unease gnawing at him. As his ten-minute timer went off, he stood to leave. “Have a good ev—”

“Seven million dollars. With a ten percent cut upfront.”

Lorenzo froze, the man’s words hanging in the air. He blinked, stunned by the number he was offering. His mind raced, trying to process the proposition.

“All you gotta do,” the imp continued, leaning in slightly, his voice low and persuasive, “is expose his identity to her and show her the monster he really is. That’s it. I’ll take care of the rest. Terry will be long gone, and you’ll be free to take his place.”

Lorenzo's heart pounded in his chest. As he tried to find words to respond, the imp stood, throwing a sleek business card onto the bar. 

“Call me McCoy. Let me know when you want to change your life.”

With that, he clapped Lorenzo’s shoulder before strolling towards the exit, his presence lingering in the air long after he left.

The very next day, Lorenzo had dialed the card’s number, fingers trembling slightly as the call connected. When McCoy answered, Lorenzo gave his answer. “I’m in.”

This was his shot at the life he was owed. A life that had been dangled in front of him for far too long.

And the best part? All it would take was a little doubt. A few carefully planted seeds in Camille’s mind, maybe even some planted evidence. Nothing too aggressive, nothing that would raise red flags. Just enough to tip her curiosity, to get her to peer past the charming mask Terry always wore. Once the cracks formed, all he had to do was guide her toward the truth. 

He could be patient. He had already waited a month. But now he has a plan. He just needed an opportunity to get her to ride with him alone. 

Right on cue, he spotted her. Camille emerged from her building, two women following close behind. All three moved with confidence, knowing the beauty they possessed.

Lorenzo’s breath hitched for a beat. Damn, He thought. Terry knows some fine ass bitches.

He exhaled, adjusted his expression into something casual and professional, and stepped out of the car. As he rounded the vehicle to open the back door, he let his eyes rest on Camille for a second longer than he should have.

“Hi Lorenzo,” Camille greeted politely as she got closer. “How are you?” 

Lorenzo gave her a full sweep of her body, clad in a sexy top and matching skirt, as he responded, “I’m doing just fine, Ms. Camille. How about yourself?”

“I can’t complain,” Camille cooed. She flashed a radiant smile at one of the women, who returned it with equal brightness. “My sister’s in town!” The women all giggled.

“Good to meet you, Ms...?” Lorenzo trailed off, his tone polite yet expectant.

“Chloe,” the woman replied, offering a brief smile before gracefully sliding into the car. He nodded, then turned his attention to the other woman, who regarded him with a sharp look.

“And you are... Ms...?” he prompted.

The woman gave him a swift once-over, her expression serious. “Kali,” she muttered curtly, then slid into the car without another word.

Stuck-up bitch, Lorenzo thought. He returned his focus to Camille, the only one of the three who seemed to acknowledge his presence with any warmth, as she slid in behind the lightskin broad.

He shut the door with a soft click and jogged back to the driver's seat.

“El Jardin, right?” he asked, settling into his seat and snapping on his seatbelt.

“Yes, please!” Camille responded sweetly. Lorenzo smiled to himself, reaching up to adjust the rearview mirror to get a better look at her. But as he did, his gaze met the suspicious eyes of Kali, who was watching him intently from the backseat. He quickly averted his eyes, sensing that she would be a problem if he tried to engage in conversation.

“Oh, by the way, Lorenzo,” Camille cooed, leaning toward him with a smile that made his pulse quicken. “I’m so sorry for the late request, but do you think you could take me somewhere tomorrow? I’m lending my sister my car for the rest of the weekend.”

Lorenzo’s heart skipped a beat. This was it, the opening he’d been waiting for. His lips curled into a smile, concealing the surge of excitement bubbling in him.

“That’s not a problem at all,” he replied, his exterior calm. “Just let me know what time you want me to be outside.”

Inside, however, his mind was ablaze with possibilities. This is my chance. To make her question everything she believes about Terry.

“Great! Thank you,” Camille beamed, her eyes sparkling with gratitude before she settled back into her seat, rejoining the conversation.

Lorenzo started the car, pulling away from the curb. The lively chatter from the backseat filled the car, but his focus remained on his next move.

Aston

Aston sat across from Stephanie, his hands trembling slightly and mind racing as he ate his dinner. For over a month, he had been trapped in a mental prison, his body and mind no longer his own. He had watched helplessly as his actions and words were controlled by Stephanie Hodges, his former crush and coworker. But a little over a week ago, something had changed. The fog in his mind had lifted, and he had broken free from whatever spell had ensnared him. Yet, the relief was bittersweet. The woman sitting across from him was still a looming threat.

If these past few months had taught him anything, it was that Stephanie was dangerous, far more dangerous than he had ever realized. She was obsessed with Terry, despite knowing that he was a vampire. She talks about him all day long when she thinks he’s not in earshot. Her plan to lure him to whatever remote location she had them living in. Her desire to marry him and force him to turn her. Her plan to turn Aston into her blood slave once she turned. All of her plans sent chills down his spine. But the one he feared the most was her plan to sell Camille to the highest bidder once she used her to pull Terry into a trap.

His poor Camille. Aston's heart ached at the thought of her. When he had first fallen under Stephanie's control, he had fought desperately to regain his autonomy, to warn her, to protect her. But each battle with his own mind had only led to breakdowns and sedation. Eventually, he had stopped fighting, submitting to the control, hoping it would end. And now it has.

But before he could even think about seeing Camille again, Aston knew he needed a plan, something solid, something smart. Reckless hope wouldn’t be enough. He didn’t know where he was, didn’t know how far from home Stephanie had taken him. The house was isolated, surrounded by acres of flat, open farmland that rolled out like a green sea in every direction. No roads. No signs. Just wind and the occasional whinny of horses somewhere in the distance. He didn’t even know if they were still in Texas.

And he didn’t know what Stephanie would do if she caught wind of his awareness. He’d seen enough of her unhinged behavior to know she was capable of just about anything.

At first, he had pinned his hopes on his parents, who showed up from time to time. But their visits only deepened his confusion and fear. They were worried, he could tell. But they weren’t helping him. Instead, they acted like all of this was normal. Whatever leverage she had on them, it was powerful enough to make them play pretend too.

So now, as he sat across from her at the worn dining table, finally free in mind and body, he made the only choice he could. He played along. He continued to act like Stephanie was his whole world. Gave her the exact version of himself she expected. Because that was the only way to buy time. To stay invisible. To strategize.

If he had to smile through gritted teeth, laugh at her twisted jokes, nod at her obsessive monologues about Terry, then so be it. He would keep the mask on until the time was right. Until he had an opening. And when he did, when all the pieces finally fell into place, he would take off.

And he would make sure Camille was safe. No matter what it cost him.

Chloe

Chloe exhaled happily as she steered Camille’s car away from her apartment. The sun hung low in the sky, casting a golden hue over the city, and she felt a profound sense of peace settle within her.

Her trip to Houston had already been like a dream, each moment more fulfilling than the last.

She was overjoyed at how her sister had blossomed since their last visit. No longer weighed down by the expectations of their parents, Camille had found a new rhythm in life. With Terry by her side and a fresh start in a cozy apartment, she radiated a warmth and joy that Chloe hadn't seen in years. Her laughter was more frequent, her conversations lighter, and her spirit undeniably brighter. She had even rekindled her passion for floral arranging, a hobby Aston encouraged her to abandon.

It was only day one, and Chloe was already happier than she had been since her wedding. The lunch she had earlier that day with Camille and Kali had been a highlight of her year. They had updated each other on their lives, shared yummy tapas and drinks, and laughed until their bellies ached. Chloe couldn't remember the last time she had felt so connected, so at ease. It was the perfect beginning to her vacation, a much-needed respite from her life as a married woman. 

She couldn't wait to dive into the week further. Shopping at unique boutiques, attending wellness events, and, most importantly, spending quality time with Camille. This trip was more than a getaway; it was a chance to nurture their bond and create new memories together.

But… she would be lying if she said that her sister was the only thing that pulled her to Houston. She also came to see her long distance situationship, Jabari.

The bouncer she had met at Crimson all those months ago had reached out to her on social media, and she found herself eager to continue the connection. Jabari was different. Interesting. Sexy. Dangerous. 

She knew what she was doing was wrong. Cheating on Simon was a betrayal she couldn’t justify. But her marriage had been a cage. Simon dictated every aspect of her life and any deviation from his expectations resulted in financial punishment. Her inheritance had been signed over to Simon by her father, leaving her financially bound to a man who saw her as an extension of his social status rather than a partner.

She had once believed in the fairy tale of their childhood friendship blossoming into love. But now, she saw the truth: Simon had been groomed by her father to be the perfect match, someone who would uphold his control over her life. Their marriage was never about love; it was a strategic alliance, a business transaction.

So Chloe didn’t feel too bad for running to another man. Besides, she was sure that he had his own share of partners. So Chloe happily welcomed Jabari into her life and her bed. Whenever he would visit New Orleans to make sure Crimson was running smoothly, she would sneak down to his hotel and let herself get lost in him.

Now that she was in Houston, it would be no different. Days would be for her sister. Nights would be for Jabari. That’s why she got a hotel instead of opting to stay with Camille. She didn’t want her sister to know she was cheating on her husband. Not yet at least. And she didn’t want to depend on late night or early morning Ubers, which were connected to Simon’s bank accounts. So she made up an excuse to borrow her sister’s car. Camille didn’t need to know she was using it to go see a man about a very, VERY big horse.

As Chloe drove through the center of Houston’s downtown, she took in everything around her, happy to just be there. But something, someone rather, made her slow down slightly. Across the street she was driving on, she could see the driver who took them to lunch earlier. He was standing outside of some club it seemed like. But some of the people outside were decked out in latex, collars, and leashes, and Chloe immediately realized that was no regular club.

“No way,” Chloe giggled, pulling over to park and get a better look at the driver and what he was doing. She knew he was some kind of pervert. He couldn’t stop staring at Camille’s body earlier that day. It creeped both Chloe and Kali out, which they told Camille. She laughed them off though, thinking they were exaggerating.

Chloe pulled her phone out, ready to send a picture of him with someone in one of those BDSM costumes to her groupchat with Camille and Kali. But instead, a beautiful woman, someone way out of his league, came out of the building and approached him. Chloe’s brow furrowed as he handed her a stack of money.

Maybe he’s a pay pig, she thought, almost about to put her phone away. But the woman reached under her dress and began to tug down her sparkly red panties. Chloe gasped, snapping several pictures as her hand flew to her mouth. She snapped another picture as the woman handed them to him. Chloe expected the guy to put them in his pocket. But instead, he seemed to tuck it under the passenger seat, as if he was saving them for later. She took one last photo, hoping it captured the strange action. But she decided against sending it in the group chat, sensing that there was something strange about that situation.

----------

@nayaesworld @slvt4her @writingsbytee @notapradagurl7 @23jammy @kaylaahisthebestest- @theogbadbitch @wabi-sabi1090 @hotgyalaroad @nubiagurllll @lovedlover @dimepiece09 @lavaniiii @simplyzeeka @susanhill @next-bex-bet @sparklytemi @sonotlauryn @ranikyani @daddyslittlevillain @blackchickinthedesert @sparklytemi @sonotlauryn @hello-therree @solunaseira @hotebonynearby @key05marie @moebuttta @winorlosetogether @nohatingpplbczhtingpplr @alexinmotion @queencb2462 @kismet83 @bruleecream @playingaymes

[sillyteecup]

Second wind, but make it sweat

Aaron Pierre x black!o.c

Warnings:

18+

Language/swearing

Smut

Fingering

Oral (fem receiving)

P in V sex

Unprotected sex (🗣️ONE CONDOM ONE WHAT?)

Spitting

Hair pulling

Roughly translated Patois

Word count: 2799🧍🏾

A.N: I saw the picture when I woke up, wrote this during my study break (writing Psychology soon). So here’s something cool, calm and short. Also, new o.c unlocked!! If ever I write for Aaron himself again it’s gonna be with Sam, so just in case everybody say “hi Sam!” Anyway, I’m gonna disappear for the next 3 weeks for exams so I really hope y’all enjoy this for now. Thanks for reading❤️

~Tee❤️

If their walls could talk, oh the freaky little stories they would tell. The worst ones being of the days Aaron and Sam went to the gym together. A lovely tale of adrenaline and lust carried by affection.

How there would be no warning before the front door flies open with them stumbling through it. Mental maps guiding their steps through the house while their hands wandered freely on each other’s skin.

Soft hums and light gasps chronicling their desire for one another; the occasional smacking of lips like a little ad-lib. Not much of a word exchanged as Aaron awaits a command of direction.

“Kitchen.”

“Bedroom.”

“Bathroom over the sink.”

“Fuck it, right here,” a breathy word or two from Sam, activating him like a sleeper agent.

Their movements would grow more frantic; rushed. They understand how much time they have. They know they should probably take a shower first. But what’s a little more sweat? And why later when sooner is right there? So he’d hoist her up into the arms she adored so much and take her wherever she asked-we’re going to talk about the bathroom today-and alter her consciousness.

Another door flies open, banging against the wall with a force that would have had them both knocked upside their heads by their mothers. Sam’s usually nimble fingers tug at the hem of his shirt before lifting as far as she can reach. From there Aaron finishes the job, pulling it over his head and tossing it behind him, leaving his chain to gleam against his salty sheen covered chest. He returns her initial favour, but more gently to preserve her hair.

He was horny, not cruel.

His wide, soft palm cups the back of her neck while the fingers on his other hand tug her body closer by the waist band of her black Nike tights. Her honey coloured gaze speaks to him. Tells him she wants this as much as he does. Tells him she needs him. As much as he needs her. It calls him in, and he complies, fingers digging into some of the hair at her nape to angle her head upwards.

Their lips mingle for only a moment before getting comfortable with one another like old friends. Their tongues embrace and their bodies collide. Once again he has her entire weight in his arms, walking towards the large bathroom sink. He gently places her there and trails his lips across her jaw with the occasional soft kiss and tender pull of suction.

Her hands move across his shoulders, fingers trembling in need as she studies the skin of her constant undoing. Her parted lips are an instrument of his unraveling control. His kisses grow desperate, paired with teeth and grunts bordering on primal. Biting into her soft, chestnut skin, his hands make quick work of her tights. She assists with the quick lift of her ass from the granite the small counter space. Soon they’re but a distant memory. All Aaron and Sam can think about is what’s next.

Soon, Aaron is on his knees, soft lips planting a wet trail across her thighs. He doesn’t linger there too long though, as the scent of her arousal draws him to what lies beyond them. Aaron was never really a gentle eater. He was more of a “last supper” kind of guy. His tongue’s attack on titan was nothing new to Sam, yet it never failed to rock her world. The way he’d devour her with his entire face in it would always leave her breathless and numb in the head. 1, 2, 3 orgasms with nothing but the power of the tongue; it’s no wonder it doesn’t take much for her to get dick-dumb.

As the echoes of her desperate cries and her thighs vibrate against the sides of his head, he pulls back. His hazel irises have darkened considerably and his clean shaven chin is drenched in her. Always a messy eater when it comes to her. Slowly, he rises to his full height.

“Get down, let me see you properly first,” what should be a soft whisper, comes out as a gruff rasp. But his accent-oh his accent-keeps it tooth-rotting nonetheless. As she instinctively obeys, she just hopes her needs aren’t too weak.

The low yellow light illuminated her body, hypnotising Aaron. She looked like an angel whose skin was the halo. The mirror behind her reflects his thirsty ass expression and her rounded ass; stretch marks, cellulite and hand prints from 2 nights ago nearly send him into a spiral. The previously solid ponytail holding her goddess braids was looser now. The free curls framed her radiant face; gym days meant no makeup, just an intense glow from the workouts, and now having her thoughts ate out of her. The days didn’t matter much to Aaron though. To him, Sam always looked like a dream he never wanted to wake up from.

A cocky smirk stretched at her lips. “You like?” she teased, her silky voice making Aaron’s nervous system act a fool. Something inside him switches as his throat dries. His dick makes a bit of scene by jumping against his cotton sweats. Although his eyes narrow seemingly like a predator zeroing in on its pray, there isn’t a single thought in his brain anymore. No, that’s not true. There is one thought. Only one.

“I fucking love you.”

Without another breath, his hands plant themselves onto her waist, turning her around. His tattooed arm reaches around her neck. Her chin firmly in his hand, he tilts her head to the side as if creating access. Eyes trained hers through their reflections, he drags his tongue across her shoulder, stopping at the base of her neck. Back across the same shoulder he went, this time by wet, gentle kisses.

“Never forget that.”

Before Sam can respond, the hand cupping her chin is on the back of her neck, firmly folding her over the edge of the granite edge. His fingers find her slick folds and parts them for the pad of his thumb to find her clit. Her body shivers against his as his thumb works her into a pleading mess.

“Aaron-“

“Baby please.”

“Fuck me, please! I need you!” she cries, eliciting a dark chuckle from Aaron who increases the pressure of his thumb. For an extra gift, he inserts 3 fingers inside of her, stretching her sweetly around them. The action pulls out one of the most pornographic noises he had ever heard from her. All it does push him further.

His fingers curl.

They scissor.

They retreat.

They plunge back in.

Orgasm number 4 was more of a splash into his hand. Wetter than the previous 3 that’s for sure. Maybe that explained the tears in her eyes. And suddenly her ignored attempts to grab his wrist make all the more sense.

“You alright over there?” he taunts. Her teary browns met his playful greens, struggling to grasp the audacity of this man. Then her eyes widen in what seems like fear as she detects a certain glint in his irises. His lips curve slightly as a silent response. “What did I say you should never forget?” he asks her, his tone deceptively sweet.

“That you lo-AH!” she cries, her answer being sharply cut off by his fingers plunging right back into her. Two curls against her warm walls is all it takes for a 5th orgasm. And in a way she didn’t even know was possible, it’s messier and wetter than the 4th.

Aaron retracts his soaked fingers with the ghost of a sinister smirk across his features. His dry hand grabs the loose ponytail and wraps it around his fist. As if she weighs nothing, Sam’s back is arched inwards, bringing her face to face with Aaron.

“Hey,” is all he says before shoving his pussy covered fingers into her mouth. His fingers dance over her tongue as he essentially uses it to wipe them off. Right as it seems like he’s about to remove them however, they slide further down her mouth right past her uvula. She gags and chokes mindlessly, catching him wink as fucks the back of her throat with his fingers.

Okay, maybe he is a little cruel.

“You know, I’ve always found it fascinating how you still manage to look this fucking beautiful while being the nastiest little whore I’ve ever had the pleasure of encountering. Absolutely fucking amazing I tell you,” he muses. It’s at this point that Sam fully accepts her oncoming fate. However she still can’t tell you for the life of her what she did to earn it.

His fingers leave her mouth but not before using her spit to paint her lips. “What did I tell you not to forget just now?” Aaron asks again as his fingers run up and down the valley of her breasts.

“That you love me,” her reply comes out as a croak as a result of him treating her gag reflex like a toy.

“And I do, Sam. I really do,” he pauses to lean in and place a soft kiss on her cheek. “But now I’m going to ruin you.”

His hands are on her waist again as he takes a step forward, pressing her front against the sink. He pushes his pants and briefs to his thighs, releasing his impatient looking cock. A few quick strokes and a slight lift of her waist is all the prep she has before Aaron pushes roughly into her. A ragged moan is all Sam has to offer as her man bottoms out inside of her, stuffing her like a garage pie. With no hand holding her up, the pressure folds her right back over and has her hands inching for something to grab. Aaron isn’t having it though; he reaches for her ponytail again and yanks, only this time she’s flush against him. Holding her there is his meaty tattooed bicep, keeping her in what could be a headlock if she finds a way to test him.

With his other hand on her waist, he wastes no time with waiting for her to adjust and instead just rams into her torturingly slow. Each time he pulls out, her brain is tricked by his tongue and lips peppering kisses on her skin and it confuses itself with false relief. Until he slams right back into her, reaching her soul with his girthy tip. “Look at you…such a pretty little slut aren’t you? Mi deh fuck yuh foolish an’ yuh still look perfect, yuh si?” he groans. The pure eroticism in his tone mixed deliciously with the Patois he had taken to using as a weapon formed against her…

Samkelisiwe Pierre never stood a chance.

Aaron’s strokes, although measured and deep, are unrelenting. The precision at which he hits that sweet, sweet spot makes Sam feel like there’s a secret mission afoot. Like there are other forces at hand. If only she had the power to at the very least fight back against them. Never resist or stop them though. Not when they had her seeing stars like this. Not when they had her stomach doing cartwheels around the pressure building up.

“Fuck, daddy…feels so mmh…gonna cum,” she breathes out.

“Is that right? ‘Cause I don’t recall you asking me to.” To the untrained ear, it sounds like an observation, a comment, a note. But Sam’s ears are seasoned. She’s fluent in “Aaaronese” and to her, this is a veiled warning. He’s daring her to do it without asking.

Unfortunately for both of them, she spoke too late and is too close to turn back. There’s nothing she can do to stop the orgasmic freight train that’s coming at her at lightning speed. Nothing she can bite hard enough to quell the guttural scream that escapes her throat. And unfortunately, there’s no amount of clenching that could stop the 6th wave of pleasure pouring from her onto his dick.

All of it happens so fast; so hard, that she can’t even feel the subtle change in pace as she rides it out. He’s going slower, but only so little that she can’t tell the difference. He should be upset…in fact he should be livid at her blatant disregard. But damn, he couldn’t help but be softened by the way her features twisted and relaxed in euphoria. He also understands that there wasn’t much she could do to stop it. Not after a whole workout and…well.

His arm releases her neck, allowing her more breathing room. She places her hands on one of the sinks, using it to brace herself while she takes in their reflection in the mirror. Aaron is still knee-deep inside of her, letting her recover with a more gentle tempo.

“I’m sor-“ she’s quickly cut off by an even sharper stroke. Then another. Then another. All increasing in pace until all it is is just Aaron pounding into her like a mad man. He may have forgiven her last transgression; that doesn’t mean he’s in the mood to hear her lie about her remorse.

The soft grunts painted on his lips accompany her cries of wanton. He’s chasing his own release. He hadn’t originally planned to do it this soon, but Sam derailed his plans. Now he just wants to paint her walls then clean her off in the shower; take care of her for the rest of the night.

He continues to slam into her, pace completely unrelenting but tempo growing sloppy. He’s close, and judging by the way she’s clenching around him, she was too. He leans forward, kissing her along the jaw and her cheek. Her dazed eyes find him through the mirror. There’s drool on the corner of her lip, so he does what any good man would do. He licks it up and lets it mingle with his own saliva before using one of his hands to cup her chin and turn her face towards him.

Almost like she can hear his thoughts, her mouth is slightly open with her tongue sticking out. Little phantoms of his name trail out, waiting on the gift he’s about to give her.

And it comes in the form of a slow, long line of spit, directly on her tastebuds. And like that, the hard earned white ring around his dick grows. Sam’s grip on him warrants one last punishing thrust; one that shakes her to her core and drowns her in powerful tides of pleasure. Her walls hug him tightly and coax his own release out of him. Aaron has no choice but to comply. With a strained groan, his dick twitches, spasms then let’s go, making a complete mess inside of her to match the one outside.

Having emptied himself completely, he pulls out, still leaning on her back. “You know, other couples usually take showers after the gym,” she giggles, back vibrating against his head.

“Love that for them sweetheart. I generally prefer a snack and some cardio,” he teases hoarsely, planting a soft smack on the side of her ass. Sam glares playfully through their reflections, shaking her head at the innuendo. “I won’t hold you though, that shower does sound like a good time right now,” he adds.

“I hear you. But then knowing you, it could turn into you catching your third wind,” she jokes. His head snaps up, mischief shining in his eyes.

“I mean if you don’t mind-“

“Hayi hayi hayi! Mna, I’m tired. Actually, get off my back before you put that thing back inside me. In fact, ingathi I’m going to shower alone,” her tone is firm, but Aaron can hear the humour below. Besides, she hates showering alone so even if he couldn’t, he would know she’s bluffing.

Still, he listens, standing up straight and moving to lean against the sink himself with his back facing the mirror. He pulls her in for a soft kiss, their lips having a tender little slow dance. The taste of her still on his tongue mingles with the taste of litchi flavoured water and his spit.

Sam shifts a little, finding herself in between his legs with her hands against his chest. His hands travel down to her ass, offering a quick squeeze. A sharp gasp escapes her lips and is quickly stolen by Aaron. Her smooth fingers trace his skin, skating down his abs and stopping right where his happy trail starts. Suddenly, he feels her palm him, and it stops him in his tracks.

Surely they can wait 20 more minutes for that shower. He’d even cook for her right afterwards, whatever she wants too. Just one more round-

“Don’t even think about it big boy. You’re not getting another workout out of me.”

[ruewritesoccasionally]

The Games We Play | Aaron Pierre

pairing: aaron pierre x black reader

warnings: smut (18+), oral (f receiving), cuckholding adjacent teasing (if you squint), power play, lap dance, slight exhibitionism } lmk if you think i missed anything else

summary: a slow, smouldering game of seduction where only one man truly knows how the night will end.

word count: 2.4K

The club’s upstairs lounge was drenched in low, sultry lighting, a haze of deep red and gold reflecting off velvet-lined booths. A slow bassline throbbed through the air, thick and languid, setting the rhythm of the night. The space had been cleared out save for a few club workers lingering in the periphery, but none of them mattered.

Not to him.

Aaron sat in the farthest booth, nestled in shadow, the amber glow of his bourbon catching the light as he swirled it idly in his glass. He looked like a man at ease, posture draped in practiced indifference. But anyone watching closely would see the tension in his grip, the slight clench of his jaw. He wasn’t here for indulgence.

He was here for her.

And then—she arrived.

Moving through the room like liquid sin, she commanded attention without asking for it. A dress that sculpted every curve, heels that clicked against the floor in a slow, deliberate cadence. Eyes followed her. Men shifted in their seats, glances dark with intrigue, hunger.

She was a vision. A fantasy draped in silk.

But she only had eyes for one man. And he knew it.

A slow smirk curved against the rim of his glass as he took a measured sip, watching her, waiting. Letting the game unfold exactly the way it was meant to.

The moment she stepped into the light, she felt it—felt the weight of eyes tracing her every movement, felt the pulse of attention thick in the air.

She thrived in it.

Let them look. Let them hunger. Let them fantasise.

Because none of them would have her.

She moved like temptation incarnate, slow and deliberate, feeding the tension, drawing out the ache. She didn’t rush. No, the seduction was in the waiting, in the slow unraveling of control.

And across the room, in the corner, he sat.

Aaron hadn’t shifted an inch, hadn’t so much as twitched when she entered, but his silence was telling. A storm, deceptively still.

She met his gaze from across the room, let the heat of it settle over her skin like a brand. A challenge.

She wanted to see how long he could hold out.

Her next move was calculated—just the barest touch, fingers ghosting over the arm of a man in her path. Not enough to mean anything. Just enough to be noticed.

Aaron didn’t react. Didn’t tense, didn’t flinch.

But the slow, deliberate roll of the glass in his palm? That was all the confirmation she needed.

Threadbare restraint.

The power play sent a thrill through her, made her movements looser, more fluid, like liquid gold under the dim club lights. She teased the room, let herself be admired, but every shift of her hips, every flicker of her gaze was meant for him alone.

The way she tossed a glance over her shoulder, the way her tongue darted out to wet her lips—she knew he saw. She knew he felt it.

His grip tightened on his drink.

The muscles in his jaw flexed.

Still, he didn’t move. Didn’t break.

It was intoxicating—the way he let her have her moment, let her revel in the attention, without an ounce of insecurity. Because he knew.

She belonged to him.

And she knew it too. That was why she pushed it. Just a little.

Her fingers ghosted over another man’s wrist as she passed, a teasing brush, fleeting and meaningless—except in the way it wasn’t.

Aaron felt it.

Not in the touch itself, but in the way she wanted him to feel it.

His expression didn’t change, but his eyes? They burned into her with something molten.

The game had been set, and the moment she finally made her way to him, the tension snapped like a taut wire.

He never had to chase her.

She came to him. Every. Single. Time.

And when she did?

Oh, he was taking his time collecting his prize.

The moment she finally approached him, it was like striking a match in a room filled with gasoline.

Aaron didn’t move, didn’t reach for her, but the air between them shifted. The game was ending, the tension about to snap.

She didn’t sit beside him. Didn’t ease into it.

No.

She swung a leg over his lap, straddling him with deliberate ease, her hands settling against the crisp fabric of his open jacket. Her nails scraped lightly along his jaw, guiding his gaze up to hers.

“You’ve been watching me all night,” she whispered, her voice thick with seduction.

His lips curled, the ghost of a smirk, dark and knowing. “I don’t have to watch.” His hands slid up the silk of her dress, fingers dragging along bare skin, his touch firm, claiming. “I already know how this ends.”

A spark of something wicked flickered in her eyes. “Do you?”

She moved against him then, a slow, teasing roll of her hips, testing his restraint, seeing how far she could push before he broke.

Aaron let out a slow exhale through his nose, his grip tightening, fingers flexing against her thighs like he was holding himself back. Barely.

She fed off that tension, the barely-leashed hunger in his eyes, the heat of his hands anchoring her in place. The room around them blurred—none of it mattered. Not the music, not the empty booths, not the distant hum of the club below.

It was just them.

Her body swayed in a sensual rhythm, every movement slow, deliberate, meant to torture. She leaned in, lips ghosting over the shell of his ear. “You look like you could use a distraction.”

Aaron exhaled sharply, his jaw ticking. “That what you’re offering?”

A soft hum, teasing. She pulled back, dragging her fingers down the front of his shirt, her eyes glinting with something dark, something playful. “Come find out.”

She slid off his lap, taking his hand in hers, leading him past velvet ropes, through the dimly lit corridor, until they reached the secluded upstairs section—completely private.

The air between them was charged, thick with expectation.

She turned to him slowly, letting the moment breathe, letting the anticipation settle deep in his bones. The soft glow of the overhead lights bathed her in gold, casting long shadows as she swayed, circling him like a predator playing with her prey.

Aaron sat back in the plush chair, legs spread, arms resting on the armrests, watching. Waiting.

She moved for him—only for him.

A slow, torturous lap dance. A tease. A promise.

Every movement was an offering, every roll of her hips, every languid touch along her own body meant to unravel him piece by piece.

His hands never left her.

Gripping. Kneading. Holding.

Like he was barely keeping himself from ruining the night’s game.

And then she leaned in, lips just ghosting his ear, her breath hot, her voice a whisper of sin.

Aaron’s control snapped.

His grip was bruising when he grabbed her thigh, pulling her flush against him.

It was about to spill over.

They barely made it out of the club before they were on each other again.

The cool night air did little to soothe the heat between them as they slipped into the back of a cab, breathless, hands greedy. The moment the door shut, Aaron gave the driver a pointed look. Without a word, the partition slid up.

Good.

Her lips were on his before he could smirk, her hands tangling in his shirt, tugging him closer, like the mere inches between them were unbearable. His fingers found her thigh, pushing beneath the silk of her dress, touch slow, teasing.

She gasped against his lips, whispering something wicked—something about how he was taking too damn long.

Aaron chuckled lowly, dragging his mouth down to her jaw, her neck. “Patience, sweetheart.”

The air between them crackled. This wasn’t new. This was well-rehearsed. A dance they’d performed countless times before, and yet, it never got old.

Her nails dug into his arm as he traced his fingers higher, just to hear that quiet hitch in her breath. He lived for that sound.

Every red light was a blessing and a curse. A stolen moment to let his hands roam, to pull her closer, to tease her just enough. But it wasn’t enough. It was never enough.

Not until he had her where he wanted her.

And when they finally reached their building?

They didn’t make it past the door before their clothes started hitting the floor.

Her back hit the door, a breathless laugh escaping as Aaron’s mouth crushed against hers, hands greedy, starved. The night had been one long, drawn-out tease, but now? Now, he was done playing.

His hands roamed—gripping, tugging, stripping away the layers she’d used to drive him mad. That dress? It pooled at her feet in seconds. Her heels? He left them on, because fuck, she knew what that did to him.

He guided her toward the bed, but before she could climb onto it, he yanked her back against him. His mouth was at her ear, his voice thick, ragged.

“You’ve had your fun,” he murmured. “Now, it’s my turn.”

Then he was sinking to his knees.

She barely had time to gasp before his hands were gripping the backs of her thighs, spreading her for him. The heat of his breath kissed her inner thighs before his tongue did, tracing slow, torturous circles—teasing, not giving her what she needed.

Her fingers dug into his shoulders, her body trembling. “Aaron—”

“Shhh.” He chuckled against her skin, dragging his tongue higher, pressing an open-mouthed kiss just shy of where she ached for him. “You wanted to put on a show, baby?” He glanced up at her, eyes dark, glittering. “Then I wanna hear you.”

And then? He devoured her.

His tongue worked her like he had all the time in the world, long, lazy strokes that had her legs shaking, her body trembling under the sheer weight of pleasure. His grip tightened when she tried to move, tried to grind against his face, but he held her there, pinned, forcing her to take every bit of his slow, thorough worship.

She whimpered, hips bucking, her hands fisting in his short-cropped hair—or at least trying to, nails scraping against his scalp, his shoulders, anything to ground herself.

He loved that.

She was unravelling for him. Because of him.

He kept her there, kept her dancing on the razor’s edge, until her moans turned desperate, until she was gasping, pleading—

And just when she thought she would shatter?

He stopped.

Her eyes flew open. “Aaron—”

He licked his lips, amusement flickering across his face as he leaned back, dragging a palm up her thigh. “You wanna come?” His voice was low, teasing, fingers dancing right where she needed him.

She nodded frantically, her breath ragged. “Yes—please—”

He hummed, considering. Then, with one last, slow kiss against her inner thigh, he leaned back, settling against the headboard like a king waiting for his queen to take her place.

“Then get up here.” He spread his legs, eyes hooded, dark, filled with promise. “Ride me, earn it.”

She didn’t hesitate.

The second she climbed onto his lap, Aaron grabbed her—one hand gripping her waist, the other sliding up her back, pressing her flush against him.

And then?

She sank down.

A choked groan ripped from his throat as she took him inch by inch, the stretch burning in the best way, her nails digging into his shoulders as she adjusted.

And Aaron? He just watched.

One arm draped over the back of the bed, the other hand resting possessively on her thigh. Relaxed. Controlled. Like he wasn’t buried deep inside her, like she wasn’t clenching around him so tight, so wet—

Her hands pressed against his chest, nails raking lightly as she rolled her hips, slow, steady.

Aaron hissed through his teeth. “That’s it, baby. Show me.”

She took her time. Drawing it out. Making him feel it. Every roll of her hips, every flutter of her walls around him—it was deliberate.

His fingers flexed on her thigh, tightening. His breathing turned rough, that lazy exterior starting to crack.

And that? That made her bold.

She braced herself against his chest and rode him harder, sharper, setting a pace that had him groaning, his hands flying to her waist to hold her there.

“Fuck—” His head tipped back, the veins in his neck straining. “You’re—” His voice broke off into a moan, the sound sending a sharp bolt of heat down her spine.

He was losing it.

And she loved it.

Her lips curled into a smirk, hands sliding up his chest, to his throat, nails scratching lightly against his pulse. “What’s wrong, baby?” Her voice was honeyed, teasing. “You wanted to watch me?”

Aaron’s grip tightened.

And that was his breaking point.

With one sharp, effortless movement, he flipped her, pressing her deep into the mattress.

Before she could catch her breath, he was slamming into her, hard, deep, knocking the air from her lungs.

She cried out, back arching, legs wrapping around his waist—

And Aaron? He grinned.

“Thought you were in control, huh?” He kissed along her jaw, his pace slow, torturous. “That’s cute.”

He rolled his hips, grinding deep, and she gasped, her hands clawing at his back.

“But let’s get one thing straight, baby.” He dragged his lips to her ear, voice thick with pleasure, with possession. “You always come home to me.”

And then?

He ruined her.

They collapsed together, bodies tangled, skin slick with sweat, hearts pounding in sync.

Her cheek pressed against his chest, the steady rise and fall of his breathing lulling her into something soft, something tender after all the fire.

And then—

She laughed.

A breathless, sated little chuckle against his skin as she lazily traced patterns along his chest. “We really committed to that, huh?”

Aaron smirked, his fingers brushing along her spine, dragging her closer. “Would’ve been a shame if I let anyone else think they had a chance.”

A comfortable silence settled between them, warm and heavy with satisfaction. His hand found her chin, tilting her face up just enough for him to press a lingering kiss to her temple.

His voice was low, rasping, filled with something deeper than lust, something timeless.

“Happy anniversary, baby.”

taglist: @writingsbytee @venusincleo @nickidub718 @notapradagurl7 @theogbadbitch @ms-mosley-ifunastyyy @wildcardmelaninfreak

comments and reblogs are appreciated as well as feedback, i hope you liked it 🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾

[nubiawrites]

one shot: i wanna see workout for me

Pairing: Aaron Pierre x Black Original Character

Warnings: 18+. unprotected sex. spitting (shoutout to Mary and Stack). spanking. rough sex.

Summary: iriye gets distracted by a certain jamaican gemini man with a treasure trail who works out shirtless.

Notes: So this might be the nastiest thing I have ever written. inspired by that thirst trap Aaron posted. And Sinners. forgive me for not getting a chapter out. Also was inspired by someone saying they needed a fanfic that involved that chair in aaron's place. also, i love the ideas of one shots as @kumkaniudaku builds out the worlds of her characters with them. seriously, read her terry and patrice series. she's really inspiring to me. enjoy!

This was what weekends were supposed to be made of. One leg hung over the armchair in Aaron’s apartment while she read the book her manager had brought to her. IP adaptation was in still, and it was a sexy little project that they wanted Iriye’s take on. She was halfway through it, knowing she had a quick turnaround time for her pitch. She couldn’t afford any distractions. 

Until the door opened and Aaron made his presence known.

“How’s reading going?” Aaron asked, and Iriye heard him remove his sneakers and drop his keys by the door.

“Well, I have a feeling that the wife didn’t murder her husband’s lover, even if the signs are all there,” Iriye stated. She heard sounds of Aaron walking closer, and soon she felt a kiss to the crown of her hair, her hand clutching onto him.  She got a good look at him as she looked away from the book, her head trailing from the shirt tucked into his sweats, the delicious speckle of treasure trail on display.

Her eyes trailed up to his chest, which was equally covered in hair, and then, seeing him with his hat on still, Iriye felt the fire burning.

“What?” Aaron asked, seeing the little twinkle in his girlfriend’s eye.

“You came back from your workout like that?” Iriye asked. 

“I did. Is that a problem?” Aaron raised an eyebrow at her. 

“Yes, for me. I have work to do,” Iriye pouted. She could smell the sweat and body spray he wore mingling on his skin. It was like a siren call to her. “You can’t be looking all good like that. It’s like you want me to be distracted,” 

Aaron chuckled, leaning down and licking his lips.

“Well, you got a little time for a break?” He asked, tilting his head to the side. Iriye bit her lip.

“Depends? What are we doing on this little break?” Iriye tilted her head to the side as well.

Aaron took the book out of her hand and placed it on the coffee table while Iriye leaned back in her seat.

“You know, this is my favorite chair, right?” Aaron said, Iriye tilting her head up at him.

“Really?” Iriye let her hands run against the chair. 

“I don’t bring a lot over when working overseas, but I had this shipped over. I wanted a bit of home with me.” Aaron leaned down till he was on his knees, he and Iriye at the same eye level. “And now seeing someone who is my favorite person in my favorite spot,” His hands trailed up her thighs. Iriye was thankful she had decided to wear tight biker shorts under his shirt, which she had stolen. “It makes me want to do some things,”

Iriye wanted to control herself. But she was leaning forward and kissing Aaron, her hands moving to his neck. She let her nails trail over the skin softly, feeling him shiver.

“You are dangerous, Mister Pierre,” Iriye whined softly, kissing his lips again.

“Well, I like to keep you on the edge, Miss Edwards,” His hands went to the top of her biker shorts and pulled them down, showing that she had nothing underneath, her glistening pussy just for his eyes. She kicked the shorts away and felt his hands already pushing up her shirt. 

“You like what you see?” Iriye was bare to him, feeling his eyes as they trailed down her body, her nipples hardening under his gaze.

“I love it,” Aaron leaned forward to kiss Iriye, her hands pushing off his hat as they entangled. He pulled her forward, his hands cupping her ass as she ground against him. “Lie back,”

Iriye smirked as she leaned back against the chair. Aaron moved to spread her legs and then hooked them over the armrests. She raised her eyebrows at him, curious to see what he was doing.

“Thank god for Pilates,” Iriye teased. Aaron kissed her left inner thigh and her right thigh, and she hummed softly, moving her hand to trail her nails over his scalp. His lips made their way further up the apex of her thighs. Just as she wanted him to kiss her lower lips, he kissed her belly. “Aaron,”

“Patience, love,” Aaron moved to kiss back down her thighs. She could feel the hair of his five o clock shadow brushing against her thighs as he kissed and sucked on her skin. Her center was wet, but she could feel herself aching as she grew wetter. She was sure that he was sucking a hickie in the shape of his first name initial on her thigh.

“Please, daddy,” Iriye whined. Aaron growled against her thigh before licking between her lower lips, her back arching. He licked again, and she moaned, her hips trying to roll against his face.

“Taste so sweet,” Aaron murmured against her pussy before his lips attached to her clit and sucked on it softly. Iriye whimpered, on full display for him as she had to deal with being spread for him. He licked down to her entrance, and she felt his tongue wiggling against her slit. She felt her pussy convulse around his tongue and he pulled away.

“Aaron!” Iriye whined as he kissed up her stomach. “I need you,” She felt him kiss her, his fingers trailing through her folds before he slid two fingers inside of her, fingering her pussy just the way she liked it. The tips of his fingers were already brushing over her g-spot and she could feel herself growing wetter.

“God, you’re soaked. You’ve been thinking about this, haven’t you? Reading your book and thinking about me? All the things I could do to you,” Aaron whispered against her neck as he kissed down it, biting at different patches of skin. 

“Yes!” Iriye cried out as he bit into her neck and pumped his fingers into her. She wanted to shut her legs but she was spread on the chair, forced to take the onslaught of Aaron’s fingers fucking her.

Iriye felt Aaron kissing back down her chest and he was back at her pussy, his lips attaching to her clit and sucking while his fingers pressed into her, thrusting as her walls tightened around them.

“Right there,” Iriye moaned as he hit her spot just the right way, his lips sucking at her clit like a popsicle. “Daddy, you’re making me feel so good,” Her hips were rocking against him as he continued to devour her. 

She could feel the pit of her stomach building every time Aaron sucked, his fingers pressing against the spot in her pussy that was making her go crazy. She could see how she was sopping wet everything he pressed in and out, her pussy tightening around his fingers and pulling him deeper.

“Oh shit!” Iriye cried, feeling a wave threatening to break as she built higher and higher. Aaron just sucked her harder, his moans against her adding to him eating her out. “Baby. I’m close!” He just sped up and Iriye found her back arching as she just needed more.

Aaron flicked his tongue on her clit, humming as he felt her walls tightening. She was forced to take the onslaught of the pleasure he was wrecking her with. Her back arched as she felt the waves breaking free, her crying out Aaron’s name as she came hard for him. He grinned against her, still sucking on her clit. Iriye was shaking as she felt her orgasm riding out and Aaron already building her to another.

Iriye had to pry Aaron by his shoulders, their lips colliding hungrily as he still fingered her. 

“You’re trying to ruin me,” Iriye moaned against his lips. Aaron pulled back and cupped her chin. 

“Well you’re mine so,” Aaron groaned. His thumb pressed against her lip, Iriye letting his thumb slip into her mouth and her playfully licking it. “You want a taste?”

“Yes…” Iriye whined. She was about to suck his thumb again but he pulled his thumb away. 

“Open your mouth,” Iriye raised her eyebrow, moaning as she felt him press against her g spot again, having slowed his fingers down.She opened her mouth and Aaron let some of his spit drop into her mouth.

A normal person would have been grossed out but Iriye was incredibly turned on. Aaron pulled his fingers from her, taking his time to lick them before Iriye kissed him deeply.

“I need you to fuck me now,” Iriye whined against his lips.

“Say please,” Aaron raised an eyebrow at her. “Beg for me,” 

“Please,” Iriye whimpered. 

“Not good enough,” Aaron moved to help her legs ff the arms off the chair. “Try again,”

“Please,” Iriye asked, biting her lip. Aaron just tsked his lips and turned her to face the chair, arching her back. 

“Say it like you mean it,” Aaron pulled her ass back against his crotch, her moaning as she felt his hard length pressing into her from behind.

“Daddy… please fuck me,” She pressed back into him. She felt him move away for a moment, his pants shuffling down before she felt his length pressing against her slit.

“Hold onto to the chair,” Iriye did as he said. Aaron slid his length into her pussy and they both cried out together as they were joined together, no condom separating them. He bottomed out and Iriye leaned her head against the chair for a moment.“You’re so fucking wet and warm baby,”

Iriye let out a moan as Aaron dragged his length from her walls before she felt him thrust into her again. She tried her best to focus as Aaron began a pace, his length searching for the spot he had already touched before.

Her nails found purchase in the chair, crying out as Aaron’s hips thrust forward against her ass. Aaron wanted to make more of those beautiful cries come from her, distracted by the delicious bounce of Iriye’s ass.

“Yes! Fuck! Right there” Iriye cried out as Aaron kept the pace up, one of his hands on her hips and the other on her back, holding her down some to the couch.

“You’re dripping baby,” Aaron remarked as his hips smacked into her ass, fucking her a little harder and hearing her cries get louder. “You look so good like this,”

“Yeah?” Iriye whined, turning back to look at him.

“Yes, baby. Getting fucked. Dripping wet around me,” Aaron thrusted harder into her. “You need to be doing this everyday. Getting fucked on my length. Right?” Iriye moaned in agreement but it wasn’t good enough. He slapped his hand against her ass and Iriye’s mouth drops. “I asked you a question, love. This is where you need to be… getting fucked on my length,” He groaned. “Answer me,”

“Yes,” Iriye cried. Aaron slapped her ass again and she whimpered, him thrusting harder into her again, her going slack jawed.

“Fuck yes…” She whined, ass slapping against him. 

“Daddy fucking you good?” Aaron grunted as he thrust into her faster.

“Daddy’s fucking me good,” Iriye moaned, knowing damn well they sounded pornographic. But it was all too good.

Her pussy was gripping Aaron’s length, feeling like he was drowning in her but he loved it, hearing how wanton Iriye was as he wrecked her. Their sex life was an equal balance as fun and romantic but this was raunchy. 

“Good. That’s all I want you to focus on,” Aaron grinned, slapping her ass again and then hitting the other. “You’re working so hard on this pitch. You deserve this… getting fucked like the good girl you are,”

“I do daddy,” Iriye whined out, trying her best not to grin but Aaron hit her g spot and she had the hardest time focusing.

“Like that?” He asked as he hit her g spot again and again, her walls squeezing around him involuntarily. 

“Yes Aaron!” She cried. His hand slipped from her hip to her clit, his hand rubbing it. HIs other hand slipped to her hair, tugging her in place as he moved faster, more cries escaping her as he panted.

Iriye’s orgasm was building up on her, Aaron’s pounding wrecking her along with him rubbing her clit. 

“Daddy, please… I’m close,” Iriye moaned. She could feel the sweat beading at her forehead, her pussy and thighs wet, knowing her and Aaron were making a mess. But it felt too.

“Me too,” Aaron breathed, his roughness drawing him closer. He moved to grab her hips and pounded harder. “Come for me, Iriye! Come for me, baby!”

Iriye cried out as she erupted around him, Aaron still thrusting into her. Her orgasm shook through he, her pussy convulsing around Aaron’s length. Aaron wanted to feel every shock but without a condom, he needed to pull out.

“Don’t stop,” Iriye tried stopping him and Aaron wanted her to get the orgasm she deserved. He continued  thrusting.

“Iri-” Aaron felt her pussy tighten around him. It was too much and he thrust into her, spilling into her. He tried not to crush her with his weight, his hips humping her ass as he chased his orgasm.

Their moans quieted down, Iriye trying to crush her breath as Aaron surrounded her. Sweat and sex clung to them and she felt Aaron pull away some, kissing from her neck and moving down her spine a little.

“That tickles,” Iriye giggled, Aaron chuckling against her skin. She turned to kiss his lips when he came back to her face, moaning as she felt his hands wrap around her waist. “I hope we didn’t ruin your favorite chair,”

“If anything, you made me love it more,” Aaron breathed after he caught his breath. “I’m not going to be able to think straight sitting here,” He moved to kiss her neck again, pulling out of her gently. Iriye whined, knowing he stretched her out as  felt his cum leaking out. Iriye wanted to shut her legs but Aaron kept her spread, his hand moving to slip their juices back up to her pussy.

“Aaron…” She whined. His hand rubbed her sensitive clit and she moaned, feeling her pussy convulse.

“I know… let’s get you cleaned up baby,” Aaron stood, helping her up before he picked her up, carrying her to the shower to continue the exploration of her body, work left behind for another day.

[enticingmelanin]

The Best Man: Aaron Pierre x Reader Fic

The Best Man || Aaron Pierre x Reader

Rating: E for Erotic.

Warnings: NSFW, Smut, and Explicit Language. 18+ Only.

Word Count: 2k+

Summary: Things get hot and heavy between you—the maid of honor—and Aaron, the best man. And let’s just say, he’s living up to that title in every possible way.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

Drinks were flowing, music was pumping, great conversations were being had, and romance was in the air.

You were filled with joy watching your best friend since the 9th grade, Sophia, get married to her now-husband, Kelvin. You weren't just honored to witness it—you were her maid of honor. The entire day had been a whirlwind of nerves, happy tears, laughter, and utter bliss. You loved a good wedding, and it wasn’t every day you got to attend one, let alone be part of something so beautiful. So you were soaking it all in—every moment, every detail.

Something else you wanted to soak in—or rather, someone—was Kelvin’s best friend and best man, Aaron Pierre.

He looked unfairly good tonight in that black tux, just a little loosened at the collar now, his smile as sharp as it was warm. You’d felt his stare more than once across the candlelit table, both of you trying to play it cool as you mingled with guests, danced with cousins and aunties, and stayed just enough apart. But there was no mistaking it: the magnetic pull was there.

You and Aaron had been quietly, delicately dating long distance for about 2 months now. Not because you weren’t proud of him, or because he didn’t want to shout it from rooftops—but because the timing, the spotlight, his HBO series Lanterns filming between LA, London, and Atlanta... all of it called for care. And you both valued your privacy. He still managed to stay consistent—FaceTime dates, good morning texts, long calls after wrap days. And now, with filming wrapped, this wedding weekend had been your first chance to physically be in the same place with a moment to breathe.

You reached for your glass of champagne, your black gown catching the light—the jeweled corseted top glittering like stars. The fabric hugged you perfectly, making you feel regal, powerful, and just a little dangerous. A server passed by. You took a breath. Then, tapping your fork gently against your glass, you stood.

The room slowly quieted. All eyes turned. And though you were used to speaking in front of crowds, this one made your heartbeat drum against your ribs—because your voice, tonight, was for love.

“I wasn’t planning to give a big speech. I'm shy,” you began, catching Sophia’s eye at the head of the table, her smile bright through the flicker of candlelight. “But this day… this day has been too beautiful not to say something.”

A soft hush settled around the room. Aaron’s gaze found you again. Steady. Warm. Unwavering.

“When I think about love,” you said, “I think about my best friend since the 9th grade. I think about the long nights we stayed up dreaming about our futures, what kind of men we’d fall for, who would make us laugh, protect our peace, and dance with us in kitchens when no one was watching.”

You paused, your voice catching slightly before you smiled.

“And today, I watched her live it. I watched her marry the man who sees her exactly as she is and loves her for all of it. Kelvin, you are everything I hoped she’d find. And Sophia… you’ve always been the heart in any room.”

A few guests dabbed their eyes. You glanced down at your glass, then back up again.

“This day has been magic—nerves, happy tears, laughter… utter bliss. And I just want to raise a glass to that kind of love. The kind you grow into, the kind you choose, the kind that makes even the hard days worth it.”

You lifted your glass, your voice gentle but sure. “To Sophia and Kelvin—may your love be bold like red roses, steady like white ones, and may it always feel like coming home.”

Applause broke around you. You made your way over to Sophia and pulled her into a warm embrace, the two of you whispering soft I love yous through the emotion. Kelvin soon wrapped his arms around you both, completing the heartfelt group hug. Back at your seat to sit back down, heart still fluttering, and about to glance in Aaron’s direction, he was already there—pulling out the chair beside you.

His hand brushed yours under the table, a silent promise, a quiet fire.

And as the music picked back up, and Sophia laughed into her new husband’s shoulder, you leaned into the moment, letting yourself feel everything. Joy. Love. Anticipation. And the electric thrill of something just beginning.

The melody of Alicia Keys’ “Un-thinkable” began to play, sending butterflies fluttering in your stomach. The DJ extended the beat, giving people time to join the dance floor. Instantly, Sophia and Kelvin made their way to the center, wrapped in each other’s arms, swaying slowly to the rhythm.

“Can I have this dance?” a deep voice with that dangerously enticing London accent murmured in your ear.

You turned, meeting Aaron’s beautiful turquoise-and-gray eyes. Blushing, you nodded, letting him take your hand and lead you onto the floor. Nestled between other couples, his arm slid around your waist, pulling you close, your bodies moving in sync with the music.

“I was wonderin’, maybe, could I make you my baby? If we do the unthinkable, would it make us look crazy? If you ask me, I'm ready…”

As the lyrics floated around you and your eyes locked with his, the truth between you settled like a secret only your bodies could confess. You were thinking the same thing—ready to claim and be claimed in every way. If he asked, you were more than willing to be his woman.

“That was a beautiful speech,” Aaron murmured, his voice low and intimate, meant only for you. “I hope I fit the man you dreamed of falling for.”

You smiled, emotion catching in your throat as you held back tears. “You exceed those dreams.”

A slow smirk curved his lips as he lifted your hand, placing a soft kiss to the back of it. “If I asked you to meet me upstairs once this song is over... would you?” he asked, a mischievous twinkle lighting his eyes.

Your breath caught, but you didn’t hesitate. “Yes,” you breathed, biting your lip.

He gave a small nod, then leaned his forehead gently against yours as the two of you melted into the rest of the song. Across the room, Sophia caught your eye over Kelvin’s shoulder and mouthed, I knew it. You giggled and stuck your tongue out playfully.

As the final chords faded, Aaron pulled back slightly, eyes steady on yours. “Meet me upstairs in five. Room 306,” he said, then slipped away into the crowd.

You played it cool, walking back to your table. You finished the last sip of your champagne, letting the bubbles settle your nerves, then grabbed your clutch and made your way to the elevators.

Ding!

You stepped off and followed the gold-plated signs. Just as you raised your hand to knock, the door flew open. Aaron pulled you inside, swept you off your feet, and kissed you with the kind of hunger that said he’d been waiting all night.

Your clutch hit the floor as your arms wrapped around his neck, matching his intensity. His tongue traced the seam of your lips, and you opened for him without hesitation. You melted into the kiss, savoring the plush feel of his lips, the solid strength of his embrace. He nipped your bottom lip gently, then paused to catch his breath.

“I’ve been wanting to do that all day,” he said, voice husky. “Well... really every day since we started seeing each other. Life’s been crazy and exciting, but you’ve been that extra anchor—my peace. I know it hasn’t been easy, but your patience... it’s meant everything to me.”

His eyes burned into yours as he continued. “I know I’ve got what it takes to give you everything you deserve. And if you’ll let me, I’d love to be your man. I’m all in, baby.”

You kissed him slow and sweet, sealing the moment. “I’m all in too. All yours, Mr. Pierre.”

His grin stretched wide, all 32 teeth on display, full of joy and promise. “I think that calls for a celebration..” he said, his gaze dropping to your jeweled corset. “Think we can manage getting this dress off safely? You look stunning, but I’ve been fantasizing about you out of it all night.”

You moaned as his lips found your neck, your nipples tightening against the fabric, your thong growing damp with anticipation.

“I think... we’ll manage,” you purred between gasps. “Take it off.”

Aaron moved behind you and loosened the strings of your dress. Once it no longer hugged your body like a glove, he slowly pulled it down, and you carefully stepped out. As you bent over to undo the straps of your heels, a firm smack met your ass, making you gasp.

“Keep them on, princess. Go sit on the sofa,” he commanded—gentle, but firm.

You obeyed, settling onto the plush couch as he stood in front of you. His eyes roamed your body, drinking in the sight. He slowly undid his tuxedo jacket and removed his shoes before slipping it off completely. Your pussy clenched at the sight of him—golden skin, muscular build, pronounced six-pack. His dick was thick, hard, long, and slightly curved. He looked handcrafted by the heavens, and you couldn’t help but trail a hand down to your covered pussy, slowly rubbing as the ache for him grew.

He bit his lip, eyes locked on the growing wet spot between your legs. Draping his tux and your gown over the armchair, he pulled a gold foil packet from his pocket and made his way over to you, eyes intense—like a predator stalking its prey. Kneeling between your legs, he gently moved your hand out of the way and slid your thong off with your help, your hips lifting in anticipation.

“Damn,” he murmured, staring at your glistening pussy. “I know we have to be quick, but I have to taste you,” he said, then began kissing the inside of your thighs.

His eyes found yours just before his lips met your center. You gasped as his tongue began circling your clit, slow and deliberate. Your breath hitched, back arching, but Aaron gripped your thighs, pulling you closer to his mouth.

He French kissed your lower lips, then gently sucked your clit while watching your body unravel. “Oh, baby…” you moaned, fingers threading through his soft, thick curls. Aaron groaned, sending light vibrations through you, before plunging his tongue deep inside. Your hips writhed, your stomach caved—all your nerves lit up between your thighs. Your moans grew louder as his thumb joined in, rubbing slow circles over your clit while his tongue fucked you faster.

“Oh my God… mmm! Baby, you’re gonna make me cum,” you whimpered, head tilting back.

Aaron hummed in satisfaction, then traded his tongue for two fingers, flicking and sucking your clit while pumping inside you.

“Uuunhhh! Shit, shit… mmm,” you cried out as your release spilled onto his fingers. He slid them out and brought them to your lips, licking up every drop of you. You eagerly accepted his fingers into your mouth, muffling your moans as you tasted yourself.*

Satisfied with his cleanup, his lips trailed kisses up your stomach to your chest, stopping briefly to suck your nipples before capturing your mouth in a sensual kiss. You moaned softly, tasting your own essence on his tongue.

The tearing of foil filled the air, and moments later you felt the thick tip of him at your entrance. As he pushed forward, you gasped against his lips.

“Mmm... you feel me, baby?” he moaned, straightening up as he slowly filled you.

“Unh... yes, Daddy. You’re so big…”

“You can take it, princess. Just breathe. Feel me,” he instructed, setting a slow, deliberate pace. He fed your clenching pussy inch by inch. You reached for his forearms as he gripped your waist. You tried not to dig your nails into his skin, but with every deep, intoxicating stroke, he made it nearly impossible.

The rhythmic slap of your thighs and ass meeting his pelvis filled the room, harmonizing with the moans and groans between you. His strokes quickened as you stretched around him perfectly. His smoldering gaze drifted down to where your bodies connected, and a deep growl rumbled from his chest.

“Mmm... look at you takin’ me so well,” he moaned, watching you coat his length. His hand slid down your torso as he lifted one of your legs onto his shoulder. The moment his eyes locked back on yours, his thumb found your clit and began to rub, just as he drove into you harder.

“Oh, fuuuuck,” you cried out at the added stimulation, your hand flying to press against his flexing abs. Feeling the power of him beneath your palm stirred the orgasm building deep inside you.

“You can push all you want... mmm. I’m not going anywhere, baby. Not until you cum on this dick,” he groaned, voice thick with emotion. “I missed you so fuckin’ much,” he breathed as he began to pound into you deeper, his hefty balls smacking against your ass with every thrust.

You wanted to tell him how much you missed him too, but the way he hit every spot just right—and the way his thumb kept working your clit—made it nearly impossible to form words. Instead, you reached for his face and pulled him into a deep, needy kiss. Everything you couldn’t say poured out through that kiss, and he felt it—knew the longing was mutual. The clench of your walls, your whimpers and cries, and the arch of your back told him everything he needed to know.

“Cum for me, beautiful... Ooh, shit. Look at me,” he growled against your lips, pressing his forehead to yours. Your eyes fluttered open, locking onto his—and that was all it took to ignite the fire burning inside you.

“Cum on your dick, baby.”

Your dick…

Something about the way it rolled off his tongue—how he claimed you as his—pushed you over the edge. The fire within you erupted, and you came with his name on your lips. Watching you writhe and fall apart sent him spiraling right after. His dick throbbed as he came deep inside you, lips latching onto your neck to muffle his guttural moan.

The rhythmic slaps slowed, then stilled with his final thrust. Both of you worked to catch your breath. He peppered your neck with soft, tender kisses, trailing up to your lips. You shared a slow, deep kiss, then whispered against his mouth, “I missed you too.”

After freshening up and getting redressed, you both made your way to the elevators, hand in hand.

“You catch the first one, and I’ll wait for the next—space us out a lil,” he said with a grin.

You nodded and giggled softly, hoping no one caught on to what just happened.

“I hope you know that was just a preview of what’s to come tonight. I’m not done with you,” he growled in your ear, his hand warm at your waist as you waited.

A chill ran up your spine.

“I’m counting on it, Daddy,” you purred just as the elevator doors opened. You placed a quick kiss on his lips before stepping inside, descending to the main floor.

You reentered the reception just in time for your bestie and bestie-in-law to cut their cake. Standing by your seat, you pulled out your phone to snap photos of the beautiful couple. As you watched Sophia feed Kelvin a bite of fluffy red velvet cake, a quiet thought crept in—maybe you were on a similar path.

Almost as if answering that thought, Aaron appeared beside you and handed you a fresh glass of champagne. He winked, and you returned it with a soft smile.

Looks like the best man just might be the best man for you…

The End.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

Just a lil smutty romantic moment for my babes. I hope you enjoyed it. Masterlist coming soon! My taglist is always open, feel free to join the gang. xoxo

Taglist:

@slvt4her @wanderingreigns @avoidthings @xjjawsomex @that-one-anxious-mango @wabi-sabi1090 @nubiawrites @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @kianaleani @slutsareteacherstoo @slyy-foxx @dxddykenn @moujg @naughtynolly @wildcardmelaninfreak @pocketsizedpanther @wanderingreigns @wabi-sabi1090 @styleismyaddiction @novahreign @transparentphantomface

[notapradagurl7]

In The Backseat.

Black Fem!Actress! Reader x Kelvin Harrison Jr.

Summary: You were featured in a pioneering black romance movie alongside Aaron and Kelvin, completed the promotional course and interviews, but felt exhausted, all while dating Kelvin. You both finally reached the limo and chose to ease the pressure on him once it halted and arrived at your house.

WC: 4146k.

A/N: Here is a better khjr. fic for ya’ll hope you enjoy my loves, ☺️ don't forget to leave comments, likes and reblogs are welcome to support, drop a request if you like, they're always open!🫡 let me know if you want a part 2!

Warnings: praise, car sex, fingers in mouth, exhibitionist kink, fingering(fem receiving), oral(m), dirty talk, slight voyeurism, consensual for both parties, kissing, unprotected sex, drunk sex, cussing, let me know if I missed any.

Taglist: @megamindsecretlair @satoruya @planetblaque

@playgurlxoxo @babybratzworld

@becauseimswagman1

@superheroprincess22 @pocketsizedpanther @beenathembo @brattyfics

@hxneyclouds @kaylalb @yassbishimvintage

@nahimjustfeelingit-writes @nayaesworld @ovohanna24

@novahreign @writingsbytee @avoidthings @kimuzostar @slippinninque @keyera-jackson @theblacklewinsky

@euphorichappiness10 @life-in-the-slut-house @miguelspvssy @liatreads @kaylaahisthebestest- @tforpresz

@uniqueoutlierblog

@dxddykenn @dpennedit

@secretlifeoofmarpessa

@westside-rot @mymindisneverhere

@mind-somewhere-else

@kindofaintrovert

@irlvampfairy

@browngirldominion @madamedantes

@chaoticcoffeequeen

@valarghoulis @jazziejax

@saturnville

@enchantedillumination

@mogul93

@uzumaki-rebellion @lady-olive-oil @23jammy

@zillasvilla

—————

Sitting between Aaron and Kelvin in the seats, in front of the camera and your brown eyes locked on the interviewer and asked you, and your castmates Aaron and Kelvin about the movie, you fake smiled and nodded. It’s been hours and hours, of interviews, talk shows, photoshoots, talking with your manager Leona and bodyguard Felix to make sure you're good.

But this was exhausting mentally and physically, you knew that this part came with the entertainment industry but the fame part was difficult, deranged and delusional, stalker fans, toxic gossip blogs ready to get something on you. The worst part was no privacy when it came to certain things.

“Y/N, how does it feel to be in an award-nominated and award-winning film with Kelvin, and Aaron?” The interviewer asked, using a bright tone.

“It feels great to be in this film beside these two, showing the right ways to tackle certain topics that are spoken about enough, you feel that my character Nia is conflicted and chooses the one who’s been yearning for her all along, it’s reminded us that she’s human,” You spoke with confidence, smiling again. Your cheeks ached in pain.

You’ve been acting for seven years, your film credits have expanded significantly, and you’ve won Emmys and an Oscar by the age of 31. Hobnobbing with your favorite stars like Angela Bassett, who inspired your dream.

You were picky when it came to roles in Hollywood, the reboots, remakes, sequels and constant shady, predatory directors, asshole producers, and stuck and entitled managers.

But you finally your manager Leona, who was the best in the business. You preferred working with a black women, you felt safe, seen, and protected properly by her. You had to do so much on your own but it took a toll on you.

You've made it, you were proud of yourself. You had a black-owned production, management team.

You starred in a black romance movie titled More To Love, which revolves around two close friends employed at a black-owned law firm. In the story, they handle legal cases, and things take a turn when your ex, portrayed by Aaron, arrives to propose. Your character named Nia never forgot how much her ex hurt you from heartbreak and betrayal, so your character pretend to be with your colleague Kelvin.

It was very similar to your story when you began dating in high school, Aaron played the role so well and it made you not speak to him, you explained to him that the story was personal to you. Aaron understood completely, shared the same story as you and he apologized.

As the interviewer continued to throw questions your way and Kelvin’s, you could feel the weight of the promotional duties pressing down on you. Your cheeks ached from the forced smiles, and you stole a glance at Kelvin, who flashed you a reassuring grin. It was a momentary distraction from the barrage of queries.

You wore a black knee-length dress that exposed your back paired with black heels, French tip nails with gold rings, and your natural curls pulled up in a cute bun. Your plump lips are adorned with lip gloss, and Your dark brown skin beautifully shines.

Kelvin and Aaron were matching with you, wearing the classic black suits, with white tee shirts, and black pants without ties, thin gold chains draped around their necks while diamond stud earrings hung in their ears.

They were so handsome, and the size difference was cute, Aaron was much taller in person though. Was Aaron a Greek god in another life? You wouldn't be surprised.

“Y/N, do you think the film accurately portrays modern black relationships?” the interviewer chimed in, his voice smooth and inviting.

“Absolutely, the film highlights the complexities and intricacies that many couples face today. Not just about love, but heartbreak and understanding,” you replied, your voice steady and calm.

As the interview wrapped up, you felt a rush of relief. You stepped out of the studio and outside to the lane that led to the red carpet, the rush of the day almost dissipating.

“Great work, we’re getting to the finish line,” Aaron spoke up, nodding.

“Yeah, we did,” You sighed until the both of them noticed that you looked exhausted. Burn out approaching.

“You okay baby?” Kelvin asked concerned, his brows raising.

You shake your head, “No, sweetie. I’m tired as hell,”

Kelvin rubbed your back in the soothing circle, the feel of his hand and the cold chill from the gold metal of his ring sent a shiver down your spine.

“It’s going to be alright, once we’re done with this red carpet, we’ll be heading home after that okay?” Kelvin reassured you softly, kissing your cheek.

You nodded, biting down on your lip as you gazed upon the man, he smelled good with the scent of cinnamon and citrus. Your hand rested on the back of his neck, your thumb swiped over. He groaned lowly.

Regrettably, the gossip and dating scene have been lacking recently; you vowed to avoid dating celebrities because of all the negative press surrounding them, as they tend to be deceitful and dishonest.

Until your best friend, Nia introduced you to Kelvin Harrison Jr. and Aaron Pierre, others would assume that you were dating Aaron but you explained repeatedly that you were just friends, nothing more.

Kelvin had his eyes on the moment he met you, and he wasn't like the rest, he was funny, kind, patient and charismatic.

The better you got to know him, the closer you became, transforming the typical friends-to-lovers storyline from the film you acted in into something genuine in real life—who would have thought?

The three of you stepped toward the red carpet laid out for you, a fence in front of you to block paparazzi from stepping too close, Kelvin and Aaron stayed between you, he held your hand.

Your anxiety fell silent amidst of the overlapping chatter of the paparazzi, bright flickering lights from every corner and Kelvin’s thumb swiped over your palm. Exhaling through your fake smile, almost there to the finish line like Aaron.

Relax, you said in the depths of your mind. It almost suffocating from amount of things happening all at once. Your cheeks on your face ached again, your mom did tell you that if you kept that face, it would freeze up like that.

Was she just messing with you? Yeah, she definitely was. You resumed walking close with Kelvin along the velvet red carpet as you peeped at the waiting limo at the end of the carpet rope. So close.

Until you were stopped by someone in the paparazzi, fuck, you were so close. They annoyed the hell of you A LOT. The fact they get paid a huge amount of money for this should be a crime.

“Show us some love!” a photographer shouted out with enthusiasm.

Next thing you know, Aaron strode past the two of you before winking at you while Kelvin’s hand snaked from your back to around your waist, wrapped around you like a warm blanket on a snow day.

“I’ve got you, don't worry,” Kelvin said in a reassuring tone, smiling at you as you mirrored the warm action.

The warmth of Kelvin’s body against yours caused your heart to flutter, his touch made you feel safe, protected from everything and everyone out there, especially in Hollywood, another destructive, soul-sucking world that you heard of, seen in documentaries, scary Lifetime movies, tv shows, the news.

A series of crazy shit flying around and you refused to catch it, you couldn't. You've worked too diligently and consistently to get where you are today.

That is definitely what everyone feels, you couldn't be like them.

Kelvin’s head turned towards you, leaning in close before you did, his plump lips brushed against yours, pressing his onto yours gently. You kissed him back passionately after pulling away from each other.

“We’ve got a new star couple!” someone shouted in glee, you couldn't help but mentally roll your eyes. Here we go.

That was the big announcement from the two of you and to the world.

You were dating Kelvin secretly until the two of you had the conversation of not wanting to be a secret anymore, people had a lot to say, and celebrity relationships won’t last long, in and out like a drive-thru. Cheating, sex scandals, some weird cult shit, or some connection to Illuminati.

Aaron, your manager Leona, and your bodyguard Felix were the only people who knew.

But you didn't let what other people say or think, or do kill your joy, Kelvin and you were happy with each other, that is what mattered most.

“I'll see you lovebirds later,” Aaron spoke up, waving goodbye to you.

You waved back in response, smiling at Aaron with a head tilt. He was so sweet, you focused on the cameras flashing before winking at the camera.

At this point, when is it going to be over? It had to be.

You walked through the strobing lights of the cameras, moving from side to side in those same painful heels. With a forced smile for the photographers and your boyfriend by your side, you were nearing the limousine.

“Time to leave, beautiful,” he whispered in your ear, gently guiding you toward the sleek, black limo.

“Thank God,” you whispered back, turning to face him, walking toward the door as Kelvin opened the door.

You ducked your head and settled into the plush suede backseat of the limo with its tinted deep windows, which was spacious and the color of ink black for the seats and the car floor below your heels were soft as a cloud, the color of macaroon cream.

Kelvin ducked his head and settled onto the suede backseat beside you, grinning at you like he was ready to eat you out in the backseat as he shut the door behind himself. “Glad that’s over and done with, now I can focus on you,” he said, his tone low and seductive.

You chuckled lightly, biting down your lips, clenching your legs before opening the door to the refrigerator and grabbing a champmage botte, “I need a drink first before I deal with your nasty ass,” you shot back using a sinful smirk.

The limo had buttons atop your heads, for the white florescent lights including a small refrigerator for drinks, water bottles, champagne, and wine.

He grabbed the glasses and passed one to you, before kissing your lips again, the taste of strawberry lips gloss adorned his lips, your thumb carefully rubbed it off. He groaned at your touch, damn he was in love with you.

You were 100% sure that Kelvin was so smitten with you, he indeed was.

“My nasty ass?” Kelvin asked in a tone as if he was shocked, his hand resting on the armrest.

“Yeah, you heard me right, Mr. Harrison. All those kisses on the red carpet, I can't help but feel like you're trying to stake your claim,” You laughed, pouring the champagne into the glasses.

Kelvin raised an eyebrow, leaning closer, his voice dropping an octave. “And what if I am? You’re mine, Y/N. And I'm yours, You know that, right?”

You felt heat rise to your cheeks as you took a sip of the bubbly drink. “I do know that, but let’s not forget that the limo driver is watching us, he’s probably a pervert,” you whispered back.

Until you suddenly realize that the limo driver was a woman, her brown skin and brown eyes go with her makeup, her lush lips in red lipstick, giving you a reassuring smile through the rearview mirrors. The limo peeled away from the event, gliding smoothly onto the road where your destination was.

“Oh, you didn't? I'm so glad that she’s a woman but you never know these days,” You mentioned with a shrug.

“Agreed, I'm not sure about how long this drive so how about we make the most of it? Hm?” Kelvin asked with a soft hum, shrugging.

The two of you finished your drinks, feeling the buzz of the drink flow through you, “Yeah, how about we try an exhibitionist kink that I want to do?” You suggested to him.

The sleek limo began to take a gentle turn to the right, going through the bright towering lights and passing through other cars, paying them no mind, as if you two were the only ones in the world.

Kelvin nodded, it was something that he never thought he’d do but with you, he wanted to try it. Just thought of it turned him on. An idea popped up in his head.

“Just imagine…there’s the driver named uh…Kendra watching us and the cameras few inches away from us, and here we are,” Kelvin replied in a seductive time.

You grinned at the man before kissing down his neck, “You’re bad, huh?” you said to him.

“Only for you, baby, but what do you want to do first?” Kelvin asked with that sinful grin, kissing your lips again.

His fingers trailing over your arm and shivered from his touch, with your hand snaked below his pants before stopping, “Can I suck your dick while the driver watches? Just a taste Kel?” you whispered softly in his ear.

His breath hitched from your voice, and he nodded at you. “Y/N..yes you can, don't make me beg,” he sighed blissfully with a smirk. He was in for a treat from you, he didn't even know it yet.

And with his consent, you unzipped his zipped and gently slid down his boxers and pants a little bit, kissing his tip before wrapping your mouth around his thick, long brown dick, his arms rested on the armrest of the limo.

His tongue gliding over his lips, he groaned loudly once you bopped your head onto his dick, your tongue tracing shapes on the veins, he knew you looked so gorgeous doing this, “Fuck…so beautiful, suck it harder..” Kelvin panted heavily, his head fell back onto the soft cushion.

“Mmm..so good,” you mumbled lowly, your hand stroking him with your fingers rolling between his balls, he grunted once he locked eyes with the female limo driver. The soft slurping and squelching sounds filled the car, the warmth of your mouth spurred him one.

“That mouth of yours..is perfect, I couldn't resist you, seeing you walk down that carpet…fuck!” Kelvin shouted out, pushing his hip upwards.

Your palm stroked Kelvin's dick with your cheeks hollowing around him as spit dripped from the corner of her lips, spit stuck to your hand and tricked down to his balls, "Fuck..Y/N.." he groaned deeply, his hands gripping the armrest tightly, You moaned around him, sending vibrations through his body.

“It’s turning me on when you suck this dick, the driver is watching us…that feels so fucking good,” Kel moaned again, hearing your muffled moans in response, filling that exhibitionist side of you once the driver’s eyes flickered back to Kelvin.

You bopped your head faster and your cheeks hollowed harder, wetting his dick and seats up, covered with drops of precum and spit. Staining his pants, your dress. Good thing both of you wore black, “Just like that! Shit!”

His balls tightened in response around your fingers, Kelvin’s mouth parted as you twisted your hand around his dick, squeezing it lightly. “Shit!….Shit!…Y/N, please!” he begged for you, he gasped as if he lost oxygen in his lungs.

Finally, he reached it, Kelvin's hot cum spilling into your mouth, you quickly swallowed every drop while you lifted you head,

“It was good wasn't it?” You bragged with confidence, Smiling and using a warm towel from the edge to clean your mouth, you tossed it into the trash. You put his dick back into his boxers, he zipped them up, and pulled up his pants.

Before you could reply, his hand settled on the back of your neck, drawing you in. He kissed you passionately and intensely, and as you returned the kiss, you let out a moan. When you finally pulled away, a strand of saliva connected your lips and his.

“That was amazing, baby, my turn,” Kelvin sang playfully, giving you an tender kiss as you moaned, your pussy from his touch.

More friction, desperately.

You leaned in, “Touch me, please,” you whimpered softly, giving him consent to touch you.

His fingers grazed the edge of your dress as Kelvin planted kisses on your collarbone, marking your deep brown skin with hickeys. “K-Kelvin…” you moaned again, His fingers slipped beneath your panties, sensing your wetness through the fabric, humming softly in response against your shoulder.

“I couldn't leave my girl like this, so wet just from sucking my shit off?” Kelvin asked in a deep tone, his voice deepening. His finger rubbing your clit. “Y-yeah, I-it was big, couldn't fit it all..” you groaned before moving your hips. No teasing was a rule of yours, but Kelvin’s hand slid through your panties, pinching your clit.

He pushed your panties to the side, and rolled them down and off your ankles. You parted your legs wide for him, while gazing into his eyes, “You’re so fucking nasty, girl,” he groaned softly, his legs parted a bit.

His fingers parted your folds and slipped inside with ease, making you moan wildly, causing Kendra to look back at him but she paid attention to the road still. “Shhh, I got you, my girl’s been stressed out?” he said, his lips nibbling on your bottom lip, the taste of wine and lip gloss.

“Kel..fuck!” you cried out, rolling your hips to that torturous pace, your arms wrapped around his shoulders tight, he must've told the driver to take the long way, your essence poured onto the seats, as he gently pulled the strings of your dress, your breasts poked out. He licked his lips.

“Beautiful titties,” he mumbled, his hands cupping your breasts softly, pinching your nipples roughly before sucking the right softly. “Mhhm..” you hummed but moaned, you’d almost forgotten that you were still in the limo, you definitely needed this. Your hand rested on the back of his nape, feeling that comforting warmth.

In need of his touch as if it was religious, you hoped to your ancestors and God above that Kendra kept driving, eventually you would get home later, you need more.

His fingers thrust in and out of you, he watched your face scrunch up in pleasure, he pressed your back to his clothed chest. “I love it when you make a fucking mess on my fingers, I can't wait to feel it on my dick,” He teased, curling up his fingers. He was so nasty, so passionate. His dick hardens in his pants.

“I..i..I love this shit with you, so much, get deeper for me papa,” You babbled softly, panting while moving your hips a bit. Your hands gripped the armrest, Kelvin was still behind you, keeping you close so you wouldn't hurt yourself.

“Oh shit! Shit! Kelvin!” you moaned suddenly once his fingers slid in deeper, your wet walls clenched tightly around his digits. Your wetness covered him completely and stained his pants but didn’t care.

The limo resumed driving straight again, while the little bumps on the roads made every sensation. Your pussy sucked his fingers right back in and clenched tight, “That’s right, you feel it? That pussy sucked me back in..fuck,” Kelvin groaned raspily, biting down his lip, You gasped, feeling the rhythm of his fingers and the warmth of his body pressed against yours.

The thrill of being in a moving vehicle, with the driver just a few feet away, was pulling you close to the edge. You were so close, but you weren't ready to go home; he pressed his bulge against you and moved his hips, “Don't see what you do to me?” Kelvin groaned as he felt your ass against him, giving your backside a playful smack that made you moan, clearly turned on by you.

His thumb flattened on your clit and circled, your mind blurred from pleasure and saw thousands of stars behind your closed eyelids, you were moaning loudly as his fingers went faster. “That pussy knows me so well,” Kelvin teased with a grin.

“You’re so good to me, just a little more baby,” You begged, your voice softened a bit, his fingers hit that sweet spot. Moving in a ‘come here’ motion over and over. “I got you,”

You nodded, feeling the tension build within you, the pressure mounting as he resumed to thrust his fingers, in and out, curling them just right to hit that sweet spot. “You drive me crazy, I'm gone fuck you so good when we get in that house,”

After his fingers turned sporadic and curled again, you felt yourself clench around his fingers. Waves crashing over you as you cried out his name, “Kelvin!”

He slowed his movements, letting you ride out the waves of your orgasm, feeling you pulse around him. The rush of it left you breathless, and you leaned back against his chest, panting as the aftershocks coursed through you.

“Damn, you’re beautiful when you cum,” he murmured, planting soft kisses along your shoulder and lips, sending little sparks of electricity through your body.

You turned to face him, still catching your breath. “You’re not too bad yourself,” you teased, a playful smile creeping onto your lips.

Kelvin chuckled, the sound low and rich, filling the quiet space of the limo. “I love you,” he said, he pulled out his fingers, watching you tie up the strings in the back of your dress.

“I love you too,” you agreed, stealing a quick kiss from him, feeling the warmth radiating between you.

As the car slowed down, you could see the lights of your house glowing in the distance. “Looks like we're almost home,” you said, a hint of reluctance in your voice.

“That was fun, I liked that,” Kelvin replied, grinning like it was his birthday and he enjoyed his present. His eyes are still on you.

You nodded, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks, “Yeah, I liked it too,” you said, that shy side coming out.

The limo finally came to a stop, and the driver turned to look at you both. “We’ve arrived,” she announced with a knowing smile, as if she understood the connection that had just blossomed between you two.

“Thanks, Kendra,” you said, feeling a bit shy as you realized the driver had witnessed more than just a simple kiss.

Kelvin opened the door, helping you out as you stepped onto the pavement. The cool night air hit your skin, and you shivered slightly, but Kelvin wrapped his arm around you, pulling you close again. He closed the door and let Kendra that he pay her immediately, apologizing for the mess on the seats.

“Let’s get inside,” he said, his tone both playful and protective.

Once inside, you closed the door behind yourself. Kelvin brought you into the bedroom, removing his suit as you peeled off your dress. He quickly kissed you, your lips meeting. Your legs spread, he buried his dick inside you. His hands on your hips.

“My beautiful girl,” he groaned softly.

And with that, he made love to you all night long, distrubing your neighbors who obviously sent a nose complaint but you knew Kelvin would talk care of it. Your moans echoed through the walls, he kissed your shoulder and said, “Fuck ‘em, you can scream as loud as you want to,”

————

[writingsbytee]

POINT & SHOOT

Aaron Pierre x Black Fem Reader

*Remember you are in charge of your own consumption. 18+ up audiences only; minors please don’t interact!* THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION  *Please do not plagiarize, repost, or steal my work. This doesn’t count for re-blogs!*

WORD COUNT: 4,492K

SUMMARY:  You fill in for a friend to be a photographer for a photo shoot and you and Aaron hit it off

PAIRING: Aaron x Phoebe (reader)

WARNINGS: none? Fluff; slow burn. Forewarning, this won’t have any smut. I just really wanted to write something fluffy and cute 

AUTHOR’S NOTE: I have worked on this fic for 40 days and 40 nights. I think I want this to be a series, but ultimately, you guys are the deciding factor; if you like it, I’ll do it. If not, then I won’t. This one might be dialogue-heavy; the reader is a yapper. I also might’ve gotten carried away here. Special shout out to my girls for giving me the courage to post this VERY self-indulgent fic. (@nayaesworld @theereinawrites @keehendrixx @megamindsecretlair). I also switched from 1st to 2nd person a couple of times, so if that’s not your jam, apologies.

TAG LIST: @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @episodes-ff @blackgurlnhermoods @dxddykenn @pinkkycherrish @pinkkycherrishh @uzumaki-rebellion @urfavblackbimbo @kianaleani @shallipii @mymindisneverhere @onherereading @skyesthebomb @gg-trini @blyffe @melalsworld @mogul93 @ms-mosley-ifunastyyy @sweettea-and-honeybutter @notapradagurl7 @miyuhpapayuh @simplyzeeka @playgurlxoxo @yassbishimvintage @dbaileyblog @jimmybutlrr @versaceslutz @ruewritesoccasionally @kaylalb @noir-lullaby @jadatingz @madamedantes @charmedthoughts @daughterofapollo-7 @cardi-bre91 @thabiddie23 @mama-2001 @venusincleo @slvt4her @skrvpion @constanthavok @dutifulliythoughtfulenthusiast @massivenightdreamer @atasteofmir @callingallbaddies @nubiagurllll @theglamclosetsl @alicewonderringland @kimuzostar

@zunibugsiren @secrettacowolfpanda @uniqueoutlierblog @raydahir @that-one-anxious-mango @nova-rae @kelvinaaronlover @reader677 @caramelmama123

“Jesus Christ, I can’t even enjoy my day off,” I mumble, reaching for my screaming phone. 

“This is Phoebe,” I sigh. 

“Phoebe! Thank god! I’m so sorry to bother you on your day off but my water just broke,”my boss, Julia says into the phone. 

“Oh my goodness! Are you ok?! Do you need a ride to the hospital?” I ask rushing to my dining room to grab my keys. 

“Yes I’m ok, frazzled and anxious, I’ll feel better once I get this epidural! David and I are on the way to the hospital now. I was calling you to ask if you could fill in for me this afternoon?” 

‘Goddammit’ I thought, “Of course, where’s the venue?” I ask. Julia and I are freelance photographers. We recently got picked up by a magazine, so we’ve had back to back shoots. This was my first day off in two weeks and I really wanted to sit back with a bottle of wine and rewatch ‘Rebel Ridge” for the millionth time. Julia spews the info to me over the phone and I jot everything down.

“What’s this shoot for anyway?” I ask.

“It’s called ‘hottest hollywood heartthrobs’. I’m texting you the address now,” Julia says. Great, I get to be around hot assholes all day.

“You better name that baby after me,” I say jokingly. 

“I’m having a boy, Phoebe,” Julia laughs.

“Phoebe is a great middle name,” I suggest. Julia laughs before making sure I have all the details for the shoot today. 

“Yeah, yeah, I got this. You go focus on having a safe delivery. Good luck! I can’t wait to meet baby Phoebe,” I’m jogging upstairs looking for my ‘go bag’. Julia and I say our goodbyes, and I prepare to get ready for the shoot. I shower and throw on a simple but cute outfit, hop in my Rav4, and make my way to the set.

I pull up at the venue and I’m surprised to see it looks like a regular Victorian home. You don’t see too many of these in Beverly Hills. I follow the sign showing me where to park my car, get out, and make my way to the set. 

When I walk inside, I take in the organized chaos of it all. People ripping and running, shouts of the director, and models just waiting for direction.

“And where is Julia!!”, someone who I assume is in charge shouts. At hearing her name I turn towards the voice. My eyes land on a man who appears to be in his 50s  with silver white hair and a jacket to die for. 

“Julia’s in labor, so you’re stuck with me. I’m Phoebe,” I say, stretching my hand.  

He breathes a relieved sigh, beams at me, and grabs my hand “Oh thank you! Sorry this day has been a cluster fuck. I’m Anton, the creative director on set. Follow me would you Phoebe?” I nod, pull my bag higher on my shoulder, and proceed to follow Anton toward the back of the house. 

“You’ll be working with Aaron today. We want this shoot to be fun and goofy but also soft and seductive. Something that lets the reader see their personality but also want to rip their clothes off,”Anton explains to me. I nod along scribbling notes on my ipad.

“Here follow me, I’ll introduce you to the talent,” Anton says as he leads me through an open door. The set looks amazing with lots of regal colors. Gold, bronze, and emerald decorate the set blanketing everything in a posh appearance. 

“Wow, the set looks great, your set designer really outdid themselves,” I say. 

Anton nods, “Girl, tell me about it! Everyone is so excited to see the final product.” Anton leads me up a spiral staircase to an emerald green door at the end of a hallway. He knocks twice and we hear a muffled ‘come in’, prompting Anton to open the door. He leads us both inside and my jaw drops. Standing less than ten feet away from me is Aaron sexy ass Pierre. Lord, I thank you for every step that led me to where I am today.

To think, I was going to sit at home alone and watch this man on a screen, and here he was 45 minutes away from my apartment. 

“Aaron, this is Phoebe. She’ll be working with you today,” Anton says, gesturing towards me.

Aaron smiles at me, all 32 of those perfect teeth on display, “Great to meet you Phoebe, be patient with me please. I’m a little camera shy.” 

I’m pretty sure I look like a complete fucking idiot standing here mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. “You have to forgive me, I’m a little star stuck here,” I say, a nervous giggle leaving my mouth. 

“Well consider me flattered, today’s going to be fun,” Aaron shoots me a wink before someone calls him away. Anton finishes giving me a brief tour of the set before showing me where I’ll be shooting Aaron. It’s a little private room set up like the inside of a Victorian palace. I place my things down and put my hair up, and begin setting up. I’m almost finished when Aaron makes his way back to the set.   

“So where do you want me?”he asks, a charming smile adorning his face. 

I know exactly where I want him, but I’m at work. I just can’t get over how truly fine this man is, especially up close and personal. He has an unmistakable charisma and mystery to him that draws you in. An adorable boyish charm that makes you want to pinch his cheeks. Not to mention his sex appeal always seeming to not know exactly how fine he is, or the effect he has on women. Constantly sporting a bashful expression anytime a compliment gets thrown his way. Well let me tell you, Mr. Mufasa knows what he’s doing. 

“Uhh, Phoebe?,”Aaron asks, giving me a small wave. I can feel the warmth bloom across my cheeks, as a nervous smile forms. Shit, he caught me daydreaming.  

“Sorry, I just got caught up in my own mind! Umm, feel free to just move around however you like. Whatever’s organic to you is what I wanna see. Sound good? I know it sounds cliche, but pretend I’m not even here.” I say, adjusting my camera settings. God, I hope I don’t sound like a blubbering idiot around him. 

“Nah, I like that. I think it’ll allow me to relax and loosen up a bit,” Aaron says, sitting down on one of the plush emerald sofas. 

I nod my smile growing, “Exactly! It’s already enough pressure, with the lights, all the people buzzing around, and you’re supposed to smile with a huge-ass lens up in your face,” and there I go babbling. I press my finger to my lips when I notice the subtle shake in Aaron’s shoulders. 

“Uhh, please don’t mind me, I have a tendency to run my mouth for hours on end. Have you ever heard of the term ‘certified yapper’? Well, I think they made that phrase up just for me, feel free to tell me to shut up at any point. It won’t bother me,” I rant on, as I continue setting up for the shoot. 

“I don’t mind at all, I prefer to listen to the ‘yapping’? That’s what you called it right?” Aaron finishes with a chuckle. My smile turns shy as I nod. 

“Aww c’mon, don’t get shy on me now, I want to hear more about being a ‘certified yapper’”, Aaron finishes standing to head towards the tea kettle. 

When his back is turned I give myself a mental pep talk. I’m trying to stay calm but I don’t know how many women can stay calm in front of him. He’s so fine, like the cameras don't do him justice.  The tan ensemble he’s wearing further highlights his caramel colored skin. Finished with a small gold chain, mm my favorite. 

A release a small giggle, “Ok I have to ask,” I start glancing over in Aarons direction. He’s making what smells like tea. I snap a few pics while he does this, just to get a few test shots. I definitely wasn't going to save the pictures to brag to my besties that I met my dream man wink wink. Aaron glances my way, raising a perfectly arched brow. How can one man be so motherfucking fine?

“How does it feel being Mr. Mufasa?” I ask, looking at him over my camera. I jump when his infectious laugh booms. 

“Mr. Mufasa has a nice ring to it. All honesty, I’m so thrilled to have been gifted the opportunity  to play a role that was played by one of my idols. It’s a truly humbling experience, everything’s been a whirlwind,” he finishes his rant with a sip of tea. 

“Well that was a very rehearsed answer,” I chuckle. Aaron playfully rolls his eyes as he makes his way to me with two cups in hand. Holding a cup out to me, a gentle pout forms on my lips, “You made one for me?”

“Of course, you couldn’t leave here without trying my tea,” Aaron flashed that megawatt smile momentarily disorienting me.

“Well, how can I say no when you flash all 32 of those pearly whites at me,” I stand to take the mug from Aaron, sending him a wink. That causes him to grin even wider. When he hands the mug to me, our fingers brush, causing a spark to run up my arm. I watch his face and his smile falters just a bit when our hands touch. 

He clears his throat, a bashful smile on his face, “Shall we get to it?” he asks.

I nod, taking a sip ,“Wow, this is good! And yes let’s start, just do whatever feels comfortable and I’ll help guide you if need be.” I turn and bend down to grab my miu miu cat eye glasses out of my duffle bag (I’m a label whore,sue me).

Placing the mug down,slipping my shoes off, and sliding on my glasses, I’m immediately in my zone. I glance back at Aaron and see him rapidly bring his eyes up to meet mine. Was Aaron Pierre just checking out my ass? 

My inner goddess purrs at the attention, awakening from her deep hibernation. It’s been so long since I’ve looked at a man with interest, of course it had to be a celebrity I have no chance with. But you can’t blame a girl for fantasizing. 

I snap a few pictures of Aaron as he’s wandering around the set, giving him subtle cues when needed. He starts fiddling with the record player holding up a Sade record, so I snap a few more, pulling my camera back to look at them. 

“So fucking fine,” I whisper to myself, flicking through Aaron’s pictures. I admire my work, clicking through the pictures I took of Aaron.

“What was that?” Aaron chuckles, sitting on the couch. He narrows his eyes at me, a mirthful expression decorating his face. My mouth opens and closes like a person who’s caught, as I try to find my words.

“You see these ears right? How could you not think I’d hear you,” he finishes with a laugh. 

I shrug my shoulders, “Well I’m sure you own a mirror, so the compliment should be nothing new. I mean look at you! Your side profile looks so good here! And how you mug the camera down! You’ve taken the internet by storm, got all the ladies going nuts.”

“I honestly wasn’t expecting to be received as well as I’ve been. The support has been amazing, slightly overwhelming with me being an introvert, but I’m just enjoying the ride,” Aaron says, relaxing playfully on the couch. I snap more pictures as we go back and forth.

“I think you’ve been really refreshing to the community. You and Kelvin together are hilarious, you guys are just so fun to watch. I can’t wait to see what’s next for you both. Ok let’s have you move to the sofa,” I say, standing to go switch out my film. 

“You think I’ll go far?”Aaron leans back and manspreads, blanketing my brain into an immediate lustful haze.

“Uhh, yeah I do. I’d love to see you in a romance, horror, or even a supernatural thriller. I mean, look at how you’ve been received and not just by the women. The men seem to really like you too, I think it’s your easy going demeanor. You’re the gentle giant with the accent and the megawatt smile, and everyone can't wait to see what you do next,” I say, slinging my camera around my neck. 

“Aww, you’re making me blush over here, “Aaron says, crossing his hands over his heart. He’s the cutest cutie ever. 

“I’m just being honest, I think it’s important to give everyone their flowers. There’s so much hate out there and people tend to forget that celebrities are just people at work. You’re more than your latest project. I appreciate you putting yourself out there for our consumption, because you’re great at what you do. Oh god, I’m sorry! I’m completely fangirling over here,” I finish my rant. Eyes wide I quickly pull my camera up to hide my embarrassment. I take a steadying breath before focusing the lens on Aaron. 

I watch him through the lens as he says, “You have nothing to apologize for. I like your rambling, it’s cute.”

I pull back, giving him a small smile, “You can’t take a compliment to save your life! Tilt your head to the right a little, perfect.”

This causes him to laugh, keeping a firm grasp on the teacup, “Thank you for your support love, tell me more about you. How long have you been a photographer to the stars?” I snap a lot of shots to hide my bashful expression.

“Okay, now lean back against the sofa. Look like you’re trying too hard to get comfortable but make it sexy,” I say, trying to sound like a professional photographer and not a swooning 26 year old. 

“I’m pretty much an open book, I’ve been taking pictures since I was about 13 when I got my first camera. It’s always been my passion, being able to capture a moment in time whether that be good or bad is a gift.”  The next forty-five minutes are spent with me giving directions and Aaron and I making pleasant conversation.  “As far as photographing celebrities, I’ve only been doing this for about 10 months.”

“These are going to turn out so nice!” I squeal, doing a little happy dance. Aaron and I had somewhat concluded our shoot

“You at least have to show me the rough draft,”Aaron says,eating the distance between us. My spine straightens as he comes to stand behind me. My back almost pressed to his front as he looked at the pictures over my shoulder. 

“Oh, I really like these! You did a great job at capturing my personality through the lens,” Aaron’s mouth was so close to my ear, if he leaned in a little further he could kiss me there if he wanted. I mean who wouldn’t want Aaron Pierre kissing on them? I could be being delusional, but I’m 77% sure Aaron’s flirting with me. 

“Ok, that’s lunch everyone! Be back in an hour fifteen,” someone shouts overhead. With that, Aaron takes a step back, and I sort of miss his warmth. His phone rings from somewhere in the room, while he goes to answer it I gather my laptop, external hard drive, and sit on the sofa to begin going through some of the photos. 

“You’re not going out for lunch?” Aaron asked, swapping his jacket. 

I shook my head, “I usually just work through lunch. I like to see what material I have so far and then add on it if needed after. Plus I ate before I left.” I reach down into my bag, grabbing my airpods. Once I have my playlist queued up I lean back and start going over Aaron’s pictures. I feel the sofa dip, when I look to my right Aarons sitting down next to me pulling out his phone.

I pop an airpod out of my ear, “Umm, what’s up?” 

Aaron slides his jacket off his arms, “I’m not going out to eat knowing you’re in here hard at work. I’ll just chill here with you and I’ll order us something.”

“You don’t have to do that. You’re the talent, I’m the photographer, it’s important for you to be the priority. I’ll be fine, the food truck a block down has a really good chicken caesar salad wrap. They’ll still be open when we finish here, I’ll grab something on my way home,” I finished my rant, too embarrassed to look his way. I’m anxious about being alone with him, I’m not working right now so technically he doesn’t even have to acknowledge my existence. What if beyond my obvious fan girling we have nothing in common? 

When Aaron finishes doing whatever it is he was doing, he gives me his undivided attention.”Okay, well I don’t want to encroach on your space and interrupt your process. I can leave --”

“No!” I cut him off. My face heats with embarrassment, thank god for being black, I couldn’t live with the embarrassment of him catching me blushing.

I clear my throat, “I mean, it’s fine. I don’t mind you being here. Sorry, I’m not used to you guys sticking around, to hang out.”

Aaron smiles warmly at me, his eyes shining as he stands up, outstretching his hand toward me. “There’s a cozy little garden outside that might provide a nice change of scenery. What do you say,  pretty girl?”

My eyes widen as I peek at Aaron from under my glasses. Did I just get called pretty by the product of my dirty fantasies? Yes, I did. My inner goddess preens at the attention she’s getting, causing a grin to bloom on my face. “I say, lead the way, handsome.” 

A satisfied chuckle leaves Aaron’s lips, clearly pleased by your flirtatious remark, “Lead the way indeed.” With a confident stride, he grabs your hand, leading you through the winding corridors of the set. His hand resting possessively on the small of your back. The warmth blooming there setting the butterflies in your stomach ablaze.

As you step outside into the cool Beverly Hills air, the garden unfolds before you. A tranquil oasis amidst the city’s thunderous heartbeat. “Here away from the hustle and bustle of a crowded set, we can get to know each other better,” Aaron says, sitting on a nearby bench. As you sit, an assistant or stagehand darts across the yard in your direction with a white paper bag in hand. 

“Here you are, Mr. Pierre,” he said, handing the bag over to Aaron. He returns a smile, thanks the assistant, and takes the bag from him. Aaron pulls the food out of the bag, an excited squeal leaving you. “You got me a chicken caesar wrap?! Aww, thank you!,” you beam, wrapping Aaron in a hug. 

A blush coats his cheeks as he leans into the hug. “I can’t let my favorite photographer starve, can I?”

“You’re so sweet, and such a gentleman. Thank you, Aaron, I really appreciate it." You bump your shoulder against his, causing him to laugh. The two of you sat and ate in a comfortable semi-silence. 

“So that thing you said earlier about wanting to get to know me,” I started, nervously fidgeting my hands. 

Aaron places his hands on top of mine, stilling their movements. “Hey, look at me, pretty girl. Tell me what’s on your mind.” His eyes softened as he calmed down my anxious brain. 

“You seriously want to get to know me?” I asked, wincing at how self-deprecating it sounded. 

Aaron’s eyes locked on mine, filled with genuine interest and curiosity. “Absolutely. Phoebe, there’s just something about your spirit, your energy that just draws me in, and I think you feel something too. I’d like to explore it and see where it takes us if that’s okay with you.” 

“When Anton introduced you, I was awestruck by your beauty, and then you opened your mouth. I find it so attractive when a woman speaks from her mind, no matter how filtered. People always walk on eggshells around me because I’m a ‘celebrity’, but you didn’t, and I really appreciate that. You’re so focused on your craft, even now, you’re working through lunch!”Aaron finishes with a bite of his wrap.  

I blow a deep breath, “Well, you guys are subjected to screaming fans all the time, it’s natural to want relief from that. Now, don’t get me wrong, I can scream with the best of them, but there’s a time and place for everything. I’m working, so as excited as I am to meet you and capture you on film, I also need to keep it professional and not make you guys uncomfortable because I would want the same thing.” 

Aaron nods during my rant, that sexy ass frown painting his face as he listens. “I like talking to you without the camera, it takes some of the pressure off,” I say, brushing a piece of lint off his shoulder. He nods in understanding, leaning back, and he outstretched his arms across the back of the bench. “I like talking to you too, I like not knowing what you’re going to say next,” Aaron finishes with a laugh.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” I ask, playfully pushing his arm off the bench. He gazed at me playfully, hazel eyes shining with mirth and affection. “Nothing bad, I promise. It’s refreshing not to have to be ‘on’ all the time. I feel like I can just be Aaron with you. Not Mr. Mufasa, just Aaron. You unknowingly created a safe space for me in there. I’m very out of the way, and crowds and events can overwhelm me sometimes. Especially now that my fame has started to pick up. A part of me still tries to hold on to who I was before, just Aaron.”

“Do you think the old Aaron can be incorporated into the new Aaron’s life? I know you want to get back to that, but I don’t think that’s possible. You have to try to find a balance between your past and present. Please tell me to shut up if I’m overstepping. " You finish with a nervous giggle. 

A laugh leaves Aaron’s lips at your response, “No, you’re making good points, I wanna hear them.” Aaron leans closer to you, finding himself drawn within your orbit. 

You shrug, taking a shy sip from your drink, “I just feel that people are going to think whatever they want about you anyway. As long as you’re happy and living your life and doing what you love, other people’s opinions be damned. Life’s too short,” you finished passing him a fry. Aaron looks at you, his mind reeling at your insight. 

“I didn’t know how much I needed to hear that. Wow, umm, sorry you kinda took me back for a second,” Aaron said, rubbing the back of his neck.

Reaching out to stroke his arm, “If I’m overstepping here, let me know. But I think that everyone deserves grace, we tend not to give it to celebrities because we put them on such high pedestals, but you’re a person and deserve some semblance of a regular life.” During your rant, Aaron moved closer to you, his hand reaching to find yours. You glance down, noticing a bright smile blooming across your face. 

“What?” you ask, unable to hide the blush. Somewhere in the distance, you hear someone give a ten-minute warning. 

“I might be a bit forward here, and please stop me if I am. Phoebe, I want to take you out. Tonight, if you’re free. I’m glad our paths crossed today, and I don’t want it to end when the shoot does.”

A smile blooms on your face, and Aaron smiles as he witnesses your eyes sparkle with joy. “You’re not being too forward, I’d love to go out with you,” you finish, your smile threatening to split your face in two. 

Aaron shoots you another smile, his nose scrunches adorably, eyes crinkling at the corners, giving him a youthful look. You smile up at him with a dreamy look on your face. What a turn of events today has taken. When you answered Julia’s call, you had no idea that it would put you on this path. The two of you sit and talk, enjoying each other’s company, until the set manager calls you both back inside. 

Aaron grabs your hand,  slipping a piece of paper into it, “Call me when this is over, I’ll give you our date details. Wear something sexy.” With that, Aaron leads you back to the set, your mind spinning with the possibilities of your date.

THE END.

Okay, she’s finally here!! If y’all knew how long it took me to write this fic… but I digress. I really hope you guys like this one, it’s all fluff. Sorry to my freaky girlies. Go easy on me with this fic, again I’m sorry for swapping from 1st to 2nd person. Thank you guys so much for your reads, likes, comments and reblogs. I ADORE interacting with you guys. Happy Saturday and be safe!! 

If I forgot to tag you, please let me know!

UNTIL NEXT TIME

TEE<3

[idyllicbarb]

FOREVER MY LADY, AARON PIERRE

synopsis: a look into your world being aaron pierre’s love interest in a new film.

pairing: aaron pierre x actress!reader

warnings: slow burn, flirty!aaron, shy!reader, cussing, fluff.

word count: 2k+

You've been acting since you were ten-years old. Watching your mother and father become award winning stars motivated you to become one yourself. Now, you're thirty-years old with a few Emmys on your shoulder. Though, your biggest goal is to become an Oscar winner. Time feels as if it's running out for you, though the journey towards the life you’ve always dreamed of is slowly working out for itself.

There's this itch in the back of your mind, you can't scratch it. You feel as if it has something to do with your love life. It's shitty and lonely, you always hear your girls gossip about how the dating pool is shit.

You haven't had a serious relationship since college. Your boyfriend was your high school sweetheart, you two decided to keep the relationship going by attending Spelman and Morehouse College. Things took a turn when you caught him cheating on you during a block party. Ever since, you've stayed to yourself and your work. Keeping a small circle of friends and always staying in-touch with your family; the thought of a relationship has moved to the back of your mind.

"Girl, men would perish if you gave them one teeny tiny little chance," Your friend, Chastity, said while fixing your hair before you two hit the town for the evening. You laughed her off, reminding her that you're committed to your craft.

"Yes I know, but having a lil' yeah or a lil' shit shouldn't knock you off balance that much." Your brows furrowed in confusion.

"A lil' shit? What the hell is a lil' shit, Chasity?" You stare at your friend in confusion, she shrugs her shoulders while putting the finishing touches on your hair.

"My niece says that's what the kids say nowadays, it's kinda cute," Chasity says spraying herself with your perfume; you ignore the fact that it's your perfume. "Yeah keyword, 'kinda," you rebuttal with causing Chasity to burst into a fit of laughter.

—

Since that late evening with Chasity, you've decided to let your guard down a bit. Entertaining yourself by talking with a few men here and there; though they could never scratch that itch of yours. Again, the dating pool, especially your age range, sucks ass.

The thought of dating another celebrity scared the hell out of you too. You've heard the whispers and rumors on how truly nasty, disgusting, and low-down some celebrities can be. It disturbed your presence deeply, you didn't want that in your life.

But your body had a different response to your feelings. You guess you could say you had a thing for your handsome love interest in your new film, 30. A film in which you and a long-time childhood friend of yours agrees to get married to each other, if both are still single, by the time you two hit the age of thirty-years old.

You like it; a very cliche rom-com. Also, you love rom-coms, especially ones that details black love. You love being the representation you could never find when you were younger.

With a fine ass love interest like Aaron, you feel yourself falling head over heels for that man. Oh how sweet he was when you two first met to do the chemistry test. Analise, the director, gushed over how well you two mesh. It's as if you can read Aaron's mind and Aaron can read yours; that's how well you two work together. The production crew loved seeing you two interact. Some would say that Aaron is your work-husband; your face would turn red and you'd immediately end the conversation there.

But those people were correct. Everytime you came on set, the first thing you did was find Aaron and spend time with him inside his or yours trailer. You two wouldn't even be going over the script, just sitting there basking in each other's warmth. There would be times where you'd bring your vinyls and record player, sitting on the floor letting Aaron soak up all the music you enjoy listening to.

"You love Beyoncé I see." Aaron comments as he watches you sing along to the song being played. Bday was your second favorite album from Beyoncé, self-titled being your first. It was something about Bey’s music that made you feel welcomed and safe.

Sighing, you give Aaron a soft smile before scooting closer to him, "Of course, she's gotten me through so much. You wouldn't understand."

It's quiet for a few beats, letting the song Flaws and All come to an end.

Aaron lifts his hand running it through a few strands of your loose curls, you decided to finally touch up your hair after days of leaving it up in a ponytail. "Maybe I wouldn't understand, but I'd like to try."

You turn your head towards Aaron, you're staring at him but not into his eyes. You could never hold eye contact with Aaron or anybody really; you'd get nervous really face and turn away with a blush masked on your face.

"One day, I'll tell you everything." You mumble quietly. Aaron gives you a soft smile and leans forward to plant a kiss on your forehead, "I'll be waiting."

You’d never tell Aaron but you hold a piece of that day in your heart. He gives the most gentle hugs you've ever received along with the most sweet, loving, and encouraging words you heard every day on set from him. Aaron has been an amazing co-star and now best friend to you. You might even say, he’s changed your opinion on dating inside the industry.

You pushed those thoughts to the back of your mind for later. Now, it's about 11am and you're getting prepared for the day. A few interviews and a run through of how the world premiere of 30 will go. You and Aaron are supposed to give a small speech before the invited guests get to watch the film you, Aaron, and so many others worked hard on for the last few months.

—

"You look stunning," John, a makeup artist, says once you stepped inside of the small party room that's being held behind the curtains.

Out the corner of your eye, you see Aaron staring at you but you can't read his facial expression. Ignoring it, you turn your attention back towards John. "Thanks boo, you know I had to look good for tonight."

John and a few others around him hype you up as you give them a twirl in your dress along with a hair flip. Laughing and waving them off, you head your way over towards the direction of the movie, Analise.

"Analise!" You greet her with a soft smile and open warms, receiving the same affection in return. "You look so gorgeous, everyone here is giving you googly eyes, even Mr. Pierre."

Your cheeks heat up at the comment from Analise. Trying to regain composure, you smile and let your hands fall to your side, "Aaron? Oh, I doubt he's giving me googly eyes."

Analise eyebrows raises, tilting her head before turning her shoulder to stare at Aaron and looking back at you, "You really think Aaron doesn't have a crush on you?"

"We're just co-stars, I doubt he sees me in that way." You say before flickering your eyes over at Aaron. It's never crossed your mind that Aaron has some sort of feelings for you. You always took Aaron as the type of actor who is committed to his work and has a strict policy of keeping work and personal affairs separate.

"Please, every time we were on set, he looked at you like you're the only woman to ever grace this earth."

Analise stares at you for a moment before placing a hand on your shoulder, "Now, I'm not saying you have to get with him or anything. But I and others notice the way you two interact, it's refreshing. I enjoyed coming to set knowing my two lead actors enjoy working with one another."

You didn't necessarily know how to react; but a weird sense of warmth comes over you at Analise's confession. You give her a soft smile, "Thank you."

–

"So, how does it feel to have worked with the finest man in Hollywood right now?" Your friend, Chasity, asks you as you two sit at the bar and watch everyone else dance at the after party.

You grin a bit before fixing your face, "You have such a crush on that man Chas. But he's an amazing person to work with; I enjoyed every second I spent with him on set."

Chasity smirks, "Me? Crush on Aaron? I believe those honors belong to you, my love. That childish grin you just gave me told me all I needed to know."

"It's nothing more, look, Aaron is a sweet co-star and we're just friends. He's dedicated to his career just like I am with mines. That's it, that's all." You say and sip on your Margarita.

Chasity hums and stares out into the sea of people dancing, "Well your "friend" is on his way over here, right now."

Your eyes widened and you immediately sit down your drink before you have the chance to spit it out. You turn your head to see that Chasity was indeed correct, Aaron was on his way over to where you and Chasity are currently sitting.

Chasity looks over at you, "Girl you look good, stop stressing," she mumbles and turns to give Aaron a soft smile.

"Hello Chasity." Aaron greets your best friend with a generous side hug and turns his attention towards you, "Hello lovely."

"H-hey Aaron." You say with a soft spoken voice. Out the corner of your way you can see the smirk on Chasity's face; you'd have to get at her about that later.

"I'm so honored to have work with you and I've decided my thank you to you, I'm gifting you this," Aaron pulls the huge white and black Chanel bag from his bag and you gasp.

"Aaron! Oh my God, I love this. I wish you told me you were gifting me, I would've went and bought you something special too." You say as you get up and wrap your arms around his neck.

Aaron chuckles and slips an arm around your waist, the warmth that comes over your body feels amazing as you two hug for a bit while longer before parting.

You slowly take the purse from out his hands and Aaron wants to take his phone out to snap a picture of your reaction.

"Please, you don't need to, I already have something special." Aaron looks you in the eye at the last part causing you to blush and look away from him.

You become increasingly nervous and stare at the beautiful Chanel purse that's in your hands, "Well, it's a beautiful gift, thank you Aaron."

Aaron raises his hand to lift your chin softly, "What'd you say, beautiful?"

Your words for a second get stuck in your mouth, “I… it’s a beautiful gift, thank you Aaron.”

It’s as if Aaron got a kick out of you stumbling over your words, his smirk grows and he pulls back from you. “Anytime, beautiful.”

You and Aaron both hear his name being called; he gives you one more look, “Duty calls.”

You watch him walk away and Chasity hits your arm softly, “Girl! You’re practically drooling over him.”

Suddenly that brings you back to reality, “Drooling? Chas stop it. I was doing perfectly fine.”

“Yeah, well when you and him end up all over Twitter tomorrow with people over analyzing you all’s reaction don’t say I didn’t tell you so,” Chasity says before turning to the bartender and asking for another drink.

Slowly, you sit back down on the barstool, reading over the words Chanel on your new purse. “Chas, do you really think Aaron has feelings for me?”

She turns her head over at you, “Clear as day boo, the signs are there. I can’t convince you, you have to convince yourself.”

Humming in response, you turn your attention towards Aaron’s way, watching him laugh and interact with a few friends from college.

Aaron doesn’t have crush on you, right?

@nahimjustfeelingit-writes @blackpinup22 @easybrezzy @uniqueoutlierblog @thiswasnevermylifefromtony @invertedempress @fatbarbie777 @sunghday @simplyzeeka @brwnskinxtina @fakxmbj @yeaiamme2 @naughtynolly-blog @disc0fairy @melaninpov @jasmynn05 @moebuttta @notapradagurl7 @novahreign @duhitzkay380 @theglamclosetsl @thevelvetwhispers @sleepynoirr @ovohanna24 @kamtaeyung @hotgyalroad @nyifly22 @norvstforthvwickvd @tobesolonely123 @msuncensered @alexinmotion @5starsirl @potatoboo @kaylaahisthebestest- @ts1mp0ne @gadelio44 @nbanenefrmdao @motheroffae @winorlosetogether @kamamey @kookieebangtan @ggcb54 @sunkissedbony97 @becauseimswagman1

@badgaljoon @kemkem101 @solunaseira @5starr-staciii @luvv4breee @rose-bliss @slvt4her @zariauraa @zoey101-2 @big-dawggg10 @callsignwidow @secretlifeoofmarpessa @cigarxttxs @lost-ssoull @magicalninjaqueen @zaxa3000 @gg-trini @caramelmama123

[mymindisneverhere]

You Forgive Me?

Summary: Bianca is a stay at home wife who eventually gets tired of being home. However, planning a day out with the girls on Terry’s off day ends up causing a small disagreement. But Terry does what he can to make it up to her… happy wife, happy life. 

Warnings: 18+ SMUT, a little angst, shower sex, breeding kink, dirty talk, daddy kink. (Forgive me if I missed any.) 

Author's Note: This has been sitting in my drafts for weeks. I haven’t written anything in a while but I hope you guys enjoy it! (If they won’t be together in real life, they'll be together in my world 🙃)

Bianca softly hummed along to the R&B music that played from the in-house speakers. The sweet melodies of Jodeci filled the home as she searched through the cabinets for seasoning. She was trying out a new recipe after flipping through pages of yet another new cookbook. A way to keep herself busy. 

Rasta Pasta was on the menu tonight and although she’d had it a few times in the past, she wanted to try and prepare it herself. She was adding the last few touches to the meal when she heard the house alarm beep a few times, alerting her that her husband was finally home from work. 

“Baby?” Terry called out to her from the front door. 

“In the kitchen!” She yelled. 

She lifted a finger to her iPad to lower the volume of the music then returned back to the stove without missing a beat. 

Terry’s heart fluttered once he entered the kitchen. He could smell the savory aroma as soon as he stepped foot inside of their home so he knew she was whipping up something good. However, the sight of her made him feel like he was experiencing her for the very first time all over again. 

“Damn it smells good in here.” He said, placing his keys on the counter. 

“Thank you.” Bianca smiled, still stirring the sauce for the pasta. 

Hugging her from behind, Terry placed a small kiss in the crook of her neck. “I missed you.” 

“I missed you too.” She giggled a bit, mostly from the feeling of his goatee against her skin. The fact that she was so ticklish didn’t help her at all. The feeling of the thick hairs always caused her to wiggle more than she wanted to. 

“Stop Terry, you’re gonna make me spill this food.” She laughed, trying to wiggle her way out of his grasp. 

“Whatever.” He placed one last kiss on her cheek before releasing her. “How long before it’s ready?”

“About 10 minutes.” She replied, reaching up to grab two plates from the cabinet. 

“Cool, I’m about to go shower,” Terry started. “and my plate better be on the table with a strong drink next to it when I get back.” He finished, smacking her ass as hard as he could before hurrying out of the kitchen. 

“You better hope I don’t put something in that damn drink!” Bianca yelled, rubbing her left cheek hoping it’ll help the sting fade faster. “He plays so damn much.” 

While Terry showered, Bianca went ahead and set the table. She placed both plates down onto the glass table that sat in the window of the kitchen. Since it was only two of them she figured they’d eat at the smaller table instead of the larger one in the formal dining room.

She sat the plates right in front of the chairs that faced each other. Quickly making her way back over to the cabinets, she grabbed a short drinking glass for Terry and wine glass for herself. 

Terry was a simple man all the way down to how he preferred his drinks. 

“Two shots of Jack, a splash of ginger ale and a lime.” Bianca recited to herself, as if she didn’t have his favorite drink down to a science. 

She poured herself a tall glass of white wine, one that had been gifted to her from her best friend. Grabbing both glasses, she carefully walked herself over to the table and placed both drinks down just in time for Terry to return. 

“I know you’re down here, I smell your body wash.” Bianca said, not bothering to turn to fully acknowledge him. 

“I was just admiring you, that's all. I can’t do that?” Terry walked over to the table and pulled her chair out, signaling for her to have a seat. 

“I didn’t say you couldn’t.” 

The couple sat down and began sharing the details of their day with one another. As usual Terry said a mouthful. Everyday was a busy one for him, from creating the perfect blueprints to consulting with contractors to hiring constructions workers. The only downtown he was guaranteed was at home with his wife. 

However Jamie’s answer was always the same. After being married for just a year, she realized that being a stay at home wife wasn’t what she expected. They had no children so the house was always empty when he was gone. In the beginning she’d find herself constantly renovating their home and gardening to give their lawn a beautiful look. 

But after a while everyday started to repeat itself. Spending over three hours on the phone with her best friends who had finally convinced her that she needed more hobbies, she agreed. Staying at home and cleaning all day just to wait until her husband got home was gonna be the death of her. So she booked a few classes with her girls and hoped that this would be the start of a new life for her… one outside of just being Terry’s wife. 

“I have a workout class in the morning and then I’m  going out to brunch with the girls.” Bianca responded, taking a sip of wine. “I might do a little shopping at Michael’s afterwards, I think I wanna get into crafting.”

Terry looked up at her a bit disappointed. “But I’m off tomorrow, I want you to stay home with me.” 

“I don’t wanna be home though T.” She started. “Plus I won’t be out all day. I’ve been home all week and I’m getting tired of walking around this big ass house looking for something to do all day.” 

“I’ll be here though so it’s not like you’ll be bored.” Terry said, trying his best to get her to change her plans. “I already had plans for you to be here so you can just do the workout class and then come back home.”

Bianca looked up at him in disbelief. He nonchalantly returned back to his food. It was as if what he said was final. There was no way she was hearing him right. After everything she’d just told him, he was still insisting on her spending most of her day in the house, again. 

“I’m not changing my plans. You’ll see me when I’m done hanging with the girls.” Her tone was nothing less than stern. 

Terry’s eyes looked up to find hers already on his. They had a short stare down that seemed to last longer than it did. 

“I had my mind set, B.” He stated, taking a long pause in between saying her nickname. 

“Well no one told you to plan my day for me, T.” Bianca stated, slightly mocking him. 

He sat back, slightly frowning.  “I’m not planning your day, I just want you here while I’m here.” 

“I already told you I’ll be here once I’m done with everything and I don’t wanna talk about it anymore please. It’s ruining dinner.” Bianca said, stabbing her fork into her plate. 

Terry continued staring at her, shifting his gaze back and forth between her and her plate. He really wasn’t trying to piss her off but he did want his wife home with him on his first day off in a while. 

“I’m not hungry anymore.” The sound of her fork dropping into her plate caused his head to jerk back. She stood up and began to walk away from the table but Terry caught her arm. 

“Wait baby, I wasn’t trying to upset you.” He pleaded with her, grabbing her hand to pull her toward him. “I’m sorry. I’ll be here when you’re finished having your day out. No complaints, nothing.” 

The hold he had on her caused Bianca to lean against him unwillingly. She kept her gaze forward, avoiding his eyes as best as she could. Her pride wouldn’t allow her to forgive him so quickly. It always took a while for emotions to pass and Terry knew this. 

“Okay.” Was all she could say at the moment. 

He placed a kiss on her shoulder before asking, “Can you sit back down and finish eating dinner with me please?” 

Bianca stood from his grasp and walked back over to her chair. She picked her fork up and twirled it a bit, still not completely over their conversation. Terry tried his hardest to change the subject, get her to laugh, ask her questions about her shows she watched throughout the day. But Bianca was still pretty annoyed, answering him with the shortest answers and the driest tone she could muster up. 

Next day 

“When are you gonna answer the phone?” Francesca, one of Bianca’s best friends asked as they slowly walked down each aisle of the craft store. 

“When I get ready.” Bianca’s phone rang twice every hour and buzzed even more. Terry was trying to do his usual check up on her, just to see if she was okay. However, Bianca was still in her feelings about last night. 

“I’m not gonna tell you to stop being mad at him but girl he just wanted you with him. If he didn’t love you, he would’ve been pushing your ass out the door!” Francesca said, reaching up to grab a bundle of fake roses. 

“It’s not that, Ches,” Bianca started. “It’s the fact that he tried to blow off the plans I had for myself because he wanted the day to go his way. I told him how much I was getting tired of being home everyday and that I finally found some things I wanted to try. You know, to keep myself busy.’

‘He pretty much was just like ‘well you can do one of those things but fuck the rest’.” 

Francesca stopped walking and stared blankly at her friend. “He did not say that.” 

“Well in so many words he did.” Bianca rolled her eyes. 

“Did he apologize, B?”

“Yeah but...” Bianca trailed off. 

“But?” 

“I’m still mad at him so I don’t care.” Bianca said, lifting her phone. “And look, he’s not even calling anymore so he doesn’t care either.” 

“That man has to have the patience of a damn disciple to deal with your stubborn ass.” Francesca said, continuing to walk down the aisle. 

“Whatever.” 

Bianca pulled into the driveway of her home and noticed Terry out in the yard. He was down on one knee, sweat dripping from his forehead as he pulled chunks of dirt from the ground. He was dressed in a white tank top and denim overalls which automatically told her…

“I know he is not fucking with my plants.” She mumbled to herself. 

So caught up in her own thoughts, she hadn’t noticed him stand to his feet and walk toward her car. She immediately sat back in her seat and pretended to look for something in her purse. 

*Knock Knock* 

Bianca’s head turned to her window to see Terry leaning down a bit. Pushing the button on the door, she cracked the window and tilted her head to the side. 

“What?” She asked. 

Terry just stared at her with raised brows. He knew she was trying her hardest to stay mad at him which was why he refused to match her energy. 

“I saw you staring at me when I pulled in, why you acting like you didn’t see me coming?” 

“I didn’t.” She lied. 

“Unlock the door.” He said, standing up straight. 

“No.”

“Bianca stop playing and unlock the damn door.” 

Another stare down, only this time Terry hadn’t looked away which meant he wasn’t walking away from the car until she did what he asked her to do. 

*Click* 

The sound of the car doors unlocking at once caused Terry to pull the door open. Peeking his head into the car, he looked in the back seat only to find a few shopping bags and a yoga mat. 

“You still mad at me?” He asked, turning his head to face her. 

“What do you think?” 

“I don’t think you are.” 

“Okay so why’d you ask?” She said, cocking her head to the side. 

Terry chuckled, trying to ignore the smart remark. 

“Do you want me to be mad?” Her brows lifted a bit, hoping she’d get the answer she wanted. 

“No Bianca.”

“Then why are you frowning?” 

“I’m frowning because it’s hot out here.” Terry responded. “And because I didn’t see my credit card in my wallet this morning but I see bags in the backseat. You took my card to go shopping?”

“Duh.” She said, before pressing the button to shut off her engine. “Can I get out of the car please?” 

Terry took a few steps back as Bianca stepped out of the car, pushing the door back purposely to make Terry step back even further. She opened the back door and grabbed her things before slamming it shut. Terry stood there still holding onto the driver's door as if she was about to get back in the car. 

“You wanna have a staring contest or you gonna close my door?”

Terry chuckled again, this time looking off to the side as he pushed the door shut. She was testing him and she was doing it on purpose. Wiping sweat from his forehead, he looked back down at her and motioned for her to hand him the bags. 

Bianca lifted them to his hands and dropped them before stepping around him to walk into the house. Right as she reached the front door she looked down at her plant bed. 

“Why are you pulling up my plants?” She asked, frowning a bit from the sunlight. 

“I was pulling up the weeds, I didn’t touch your plants.” Terry responded. 

Bianca rolled her eyes, not bothering to say thank you. He was clearly doing her a favor, a way to try and get back in her good graces. But stubborn is as stubborn does. She walked into the house and made her way to the kitchen.

“I brought you some food from Texas Roadhouse if you want it. It’s in one of those bags.” Bianca dryly stated, retrieving a bottle of water from the fridge. 

“Thank you baby.” He placed the bags onto the counter and walked over to her. He stood there waiting for her to acknowledge him. 

“What?” She eyed him up and down. 

“Can I have a hug?”

“No. You’re sweaty and you stink!” She replied, taking a step away from him. 

“You love me unconditionally though, right?” Terry said, grabbing her and hugging her anyways. 

“Terry stop! You get on my nerves!” Bianca put her hands up to his chest, pushing him as hard as she could but he didn’t budge. 

“Tell me you love me and I’ll let you go.” 

“Get off of me!” Bianca yelled. 

“Say it.” Terry smiled, laying his head on her shoulder to rub more of his sweat on her. 

“I love you now move!” 

He released her, laughing at the face she was making as she wiped his sweat off. She tightened the top on her water bottle and threw it at him, cursing him for playing too much yet again. 

------------------------------------------

Bianca walked into their bathroom with a towel draped over her arm. Not noticing Terry in the conjoined closet, she turned the knob and stood back as she waited for the water to pour from the shower head. 

When she turned around she met Terry’s gaze, that same smirk from earlier across his face. 

“I need to shower.” She said dryly. 

“You just wanna shower with me.” He said, walking out of the closet with nothing but his briefs on. 

“Boy please.” 

Bianca looked down briefly before returning her eyes to his. She tried to act as if she didn’t notice the bulge in his pants but the breath that caught in her throat gave her away. He licked his lips as he used his thumbs to push down his shorts, never breaking their gaze. 

With a swift motion, his dick sprang out. Only semi hard but still a sight to see nonetheless. Bianca rolled her eyes as she brushed him off, trying her hardest to keep her eyes leveled with his. 

Terry stepped into the shower, reaching for the knob on the far left and turning it up so the water would run hot. He stood just an inch under the shower head, as he let the water flow down his body. He chuckled to himself knowing Bianca was watching him. 

Unapologetically, she was. Trailing her eyes down the length of his back to his tight ass. She was trying so hard to stay in her feelings but she wanted him inside of her as soon as possible. 

Not wasting any more time or water, she quickly tossed her workout clothes to the floor and stepped under the shower head to the far right. The two of them stood quietly, only the soothing sounds of water splashing filled the room. 

Bianca closed her eyes, appreciating the warm water that soothed her. Her hands danced around her body. Running her fingers over her stomach, down to her thighs and back up to her chest. She was so caught up in her own trance that she didn’t notice Terry stepping away from his side of the shower. 

Planting a kiss on the nape of her neck, he gripped her waist gently. Bianca’s eyes snapped open, almost forgetting she wasn’t alone in the bathroom. 

“Terry, you're still dirty.” She said, only verbally protesting. 

“I‘ve been in here longer than you.” He said in a low tone, still placing kisses on the back of her neck and shoulders. 

“I don’t smell soap.” 

Terry ignored her and continued kissing her, wrapping his arms around her waist. 

“I’m not even clean yet.” She stated, still trying to stop him… barely. 

“A little salt never hurt nobody.” His tongue ran across her shoulder, sending a quick chill down her spine. Terry never gave a damn about her being sweaty or even hairy. If he wanted it, he was gonna take it however it came. A man. 

Eventually her head fell back, allowing him more access to wherever he wanted to lick and kiss. 

His hand traveled down in between her legs while the other toyed with her nipple. Her hands followed his, rubbing his forearms while her eyes slowly closed. Steam traveled past the glass doors as his fingers slipped in between her lower lips. Dipping his middle finger slightly into her hole, he used her juices to tease her clit. 

Terry’s lips never left her neck. He knew they couldn’t be too long because her hair would eventually begin to revert which meant more maintenance for her. So he purposely tended to her spots, heightening her arousal. Her hips fell into a rhythm with his fingers, rolling them as her ass pressed against his now rock hard dick. The friction from her ass against his length made him let out a deep moan. 

“Fuck me.” She breathed bluntly, two words he was waiting to hear. 

Without thought he walked her forward a bit, until her palms hit the wall. He reached down and gripped his dick, positioning it right in between her legs. He thrusted his hips a few times, using her pussy to wet his tip. Pulling back a bit, he pressed against her opening and entered her without any resistance. 

Bianca’s back arched, trying to position herself so that she could feel every inch of him. He instantly gripped her hips and pumped in and out of her. Loud sounds of her ass slapping against his skin echoed throughout the bathroom. The water continued to run down Terry’s back as he rammed her, chasing his much needed nut. Her cheek pressed against the wall, eyes rolling into her head while she chewed her bottom lip. 

Terry had never been a minute man but he was always a considerate man… sometimes too damn considerate. She knew how much her husband loved being inside of her and she loved feeling him slide in and out of her. He was thrusting into her with so much passion but she didn’t want him to cum so soon. 

“Slow down baby, not yet.” She moaned.

“But your hair...” Terry said, never ceasing his movement. 

“I don’t care about that, I wanna feel you.” And he knew exactly what she meant. 

Always following her orders, he slowed up. Pulling his hips back until he could slightly see the head of his dick, he pushed back into her slowly. He kept his strokes long and deep, waiting to hear her hum of approval. She licked her lips, smirking a bit from the feeling of his thick dick filling her walls. 

“Yeah, like that daddy.” A blend of a whine and moan as she closed her eyes. 

He tilited his head to the side to watch her face as he fucked her. He bit his lip watching her expressions change, slapping her ass a few times just to hear her hiss from the pain. He looked down to watch the length of his dick gradually become coated in her cream. He quietly cursed to himself before placing his gaze on her again. Watching her bottom lip slip from her teeth, her eyebrows curled upward and when her jaw dropped he knew what was next. 

“Yesssss, oh fuuuuuck.” She cried as she felt her orgasm build. 

His pace increased, pounding her and gripping her hips tighter. His ass cheeks clenched with every pump in an effort to get an even deeper dig into her.

“Cum on that dick baby.” Terry said, licking his lips as he watched his dick go in and out. 

She called out his name a few times, eyes rolling into her head as her orgasm strengthened. She tapped the wall a few times hoping he’d let up just enough for her to catch her breath but he didn’t. The feeling of the tip of his dick pressing against her cervix caused her to bring her body forward, trying to run from him. She’d inch her body closer to the wall and he’d take a step forward right along with her. 

Bianca lifted onto her tiptoes a bit, cursing again and again until he finally pulled out with another hard slap to her ass. 

She let out a deep breath, licking her parched lips and dragging her hands down the wall.

“Come here.” Terry pulled on her hips causing her to face him. 

Without warning she was lifted off of her feet, her arms naturally wrapped around his neck while his arms snaked beneath her thighs. Gripping her ass, he lifted her just enough then lowered her down onto his dick. He watched her face closely as her eyes rolled closed. Lifting her up and down effortlessly, he grunted as he felt her tighten around his dick. 

“Relax baby, I got you.” He said. He could feel her grip on his neck loosen just a bit. Her bun eventually fell into a ponytail that bounced up and down along with her. Dropping his eyes down to watch her titties bounce as well, he slammed her down onto his dick over and over again.

“Fuck daddy, yes!” She yelled, gripping the back of his neck tighter than before. 

Her nails dug into his skin but the pain went unnoticed. He was so focused on the mess she was making, the white mess that was settling at the base of his dick. 

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” She chanted with every thrust. The sounds of her whining as she came wouldn’t allow him to let up until she was damn near begging him to. He could feel her grip loosen again which let him know that she was getting ready to tap out. 

Terry pressed her back against the wall, placing his palms flat on the tile. With her knees pinned to her sides, there was no room for her to wiggle or run from him this time. Finally lifting his eyes back to hers, he pushed his hips forward, digging into her as he studied her expression… it was his favorite part of fucking her. 

Her brows were lifted a bit and her eyes were low. She hadn’t quite bounced back from her second climax but that was a good thing for Terry. Keeping his momentum, he wanted her to remain slightly out of it. Her moans were always music to his ears when she was like this, so raw and unfiltered. She whimpered and whined, trying to speak but forgetting her words. Her mouth sat slightly open as her eyes met his. The soft green irises stared at her so intensely, she damn near wanted to break eye contact. 

“You still mad at me?” He asked, never changing his pace. 

“No…” She cooed with a stuttered exhale. 

“You forgive me?” 

“Yes!” She moaned, nodding her head. 

“Yeah?” He nodded along with her. “Tell me.”

“I forgive you daddy, I forgive you!”

He pressed his lips to the corner of her mouth, kissing her while she repeated herself like a broken record. 

She was cumming again, this time unable to hold on to him which was fine because he didn’t plan on dropping her. The gushy sounds of her pussy seeping was turning him feral. She could feel him biting at her jaw, moaning as he fucked her without remorse. 

Her eyes finally opened, landing on the mirror that had lost its fog long ago. She watched his ass tighten with every thrust, the amount of stamina this man had was beyond her. The muscles in his back flexed as he kept her pinned tightly against the wall. 

His head lowered to the crook of her neck where he continued to nibble at her skin. The growl that escaped his lips let her know that he was close. 

Able to come to her senses for a split second, she encouraged him in the best way she could. 

“You gonna cum in my pussy daddy?” 

A shuttered moan left his lips. He was ready to fold and although she’d witnessed it a hundred times in the past, she never got tired of it. 

“Fill this pussy up baby.”

“Oh shit.” He moaned. 

Bianca’s eyes were locked on him in the mirror. The visual of his body flexing over and over again as he fucked her had Bianca thanking God for that damn mirror. 

Bianca turned her head slightly and dipped her tongue into his ear. Still staring at their reflection in the mirror, she smirked to herself as she watched his hips twitch.

“Fuck!” Loudly escaped his lips through gritted teeth as he locked his hips in place, pressing himself against her body as closely as he could. She could feel his dick twitch inside of her as cum oozed from his tip. 

“Mmmmm.” She hummed in satisfaction, loving the feeling of his warm seed inside of her. 

Bianca’s walls contracted out of habit which caused Terry to pull his now sensitive dick out of her. He reached down to turn the shower knob, cutting the water off completely but still keeping Bianca pinned. The only sound in the bathroom was their breathing, loud and heavy. 

Bianca placed kisses on his neck, rubbing the back of his head as he caught his breath. Silent curses left his lips as his shoulders lifted and dropped in pattern with his breathing. 

“We have to shower now, baby.” She said, still kissing him. 

“I wanna go to bed.” Terry mumbled, head still buried in the crook of her neck. 

“After you shower.” She tapped his shoulder, signaling to put her down on the ground. 

Carefully removing his arms from under her legs, he placed her down and wrapped his arms around her waist. Still struggling to catch his breath, he dropped his head back down to her shoulder. He was damn near dropping all of his weight onto her. 

“Terry.” She said, trying to get him to stand up straight. 

“Give me five minutes.”

Bianca kissed her teeth, giggling at his sudden exhaustion. Reaching behind him, she turned the middle knob that controlled the waterfall shower hanging directly above them. The water rained down on the two. Snatching the rubber bands out of her hair, she left the waterfall directly onto the top of her head down to her feet. 

‘Fuck this ponytail.’ She thought. 

The two lovebirds spent the rest of the time bathing one another and cleansing each other's hair. 

Finally stepping out of the shower to prepare for bed, they both threw on their night time clothes. After lathering her body with lotion, she walked into her bedroom to ask Terry if he wanted her to heat his food. 

When she heard the sound of soft snores she smiled, amazed at how tired he really was. Laying flat on his back with an arm thrown above his head, the other across his chest, he didn’t even get a chance to tuck himself in. 

Pussy put him to sleep… I guess. 

(They water bill bout to be high as hell… Please excuse any mistakes. 🩵)

Taglist: @notapradagurl7 @saturnville @kykylovesblog @ovohanna24 @saltburnsworld @ms-mosley-ifunastyyy @blackmoonchilee @blckblossom @kaylaahisthebestest-

(I added those who were on my last taglist, let me know if you'd like to be added or removed.)

[ch33z3grits]

Crimson Obsessions | A Terry Richmond Vampire Series

pairing: Aaron Pierre as Terry Richmond x Justine Skye as Camille DeWaterson

warnings: 18+ mdni, smut (f*ngering, oral sex (f receiving), male masturbation, mentions of BDSM, mentions of org*es), dark romance, angst, manipulation, possessiveness/obsessiveness, mentions of Arson, mentions of violence, mentions of blood

word count: 12,535

a/n: y'all...Y'ALL!! I'm so so sorry for missing these last two weeks 😭😭 life been a lil overwhelming recently ngl, so I've been real distracted lately. But, I should be good going forward! Hope y'all like this chapter :) Also, also, thank you to all the kind people who reached out 🥹 thanks for checking in and leaving words of encouragement. And I'm editing this with like four days of sleep deprivation, so sorry for any mistakes!

Terry's song: All I Want is You-Miguel, J. Cole | Camille's song: Honesty-Pink Sweat$

Pt. Eight

Terry

Terry watched as Aston thrashed around as the security guards dragged him away, a man he assumed to be his father and Mr. DeWaterson following close behind. Onlookers watched in horror as they tried to make sense of what happened. The most senior partners of the firm began to pace around the venue frantically, trying to console potential donors and industry friends. But as everyone tried to return to normal, Aston’s screams reverberated off the walls, raw and frantic. As entertaining as his meltdown was, Terry couldn’t help but feel a sense of dread. Aston’s thrashing, manic behavior was enough to make anyone uncomfortable, but what struck Terry most was the complete absence of control in Aston’s eyes—a wild, feral desperation that seemed beyond anything natural. It was so odd, Terry couldn’t even focus on the fact that he outed his true nature. Granted, it didn’t matter that he just told everyone in shouting distance that he was a vampire. His ramblings were so incoherent and all over the place, no one would assume that they were more than the delirious outbursts of someone unhinged. Aston sounded too deranged, too far gone for anyone to take him seriously. But as Terry watched him disappear down a hall, he knew, deep down, that the truth was far more complicated than simple drunkenness or madness.

Aston’s erratic behavior was much more than a random drunken episode. Sure, the sulfur he had ingested might have played a part in his frenzied state, but there was something more sinister at play. No, this was something deeper, something far more potent. This incident mirrored other times in Terry’s life where supernatural workings went wrong. Aston wasn’t merely intoxicated or out of control. He was under the intense, suffocating grip of a love spell. And not just any love spell. A spell powerful enough to bring even a supernatural creature to its knees. The thought made Terry’s stomach tighten, and a sharp exhale escaped his lips as his mind raced, locking onto the only person who could be arrogant and reckless enough to cast such a dangerous charm.

Stephanie. Of course, it had to be her. A thorn in his side since he stepped into Watkins & Grant. She was supposed to be a pawn, a temporary diversion, someone to give him easy access to Camille. In return, Terry would give her the attention she desperately craved, keep her entertained and satisfied—enough to keep her useful, but never to get too attached. That was the plan. But Stephanie, like plenty of other women in his past, had become consumed by him. She had become obsessed, her infatuation growing to an unhealthy intensity that was difficult for Terry to control. That obsession was more of a headache than it was worth, so Terry had created a plan that would get her out of his life once and for all. His generosity that week, his outward kindness towards her, had only been a means to an end, a carefully calculated move to draw her into a situation where she would be fired.

But Stephanie had used this night as an opportunity too. A spell, one potent enough for a vampire. And now, the aftermath was unfolding in front of him. Terry never imagined he would find himself thinking something like this, but in that moment, Terry was strangely grateful for Aston. Aston’s foolish attempt to poison him, as reckless and poorly executed as it was, had saved him from falling under Stephanie’s influence. Terry wouldn’t be making an ass of himself like Aston was since he was the intended target of the spell, but he would’ve lost control of himself and Stephanie would’ve been his sun, moon, and stars.

The idea of submitting to her demands, becoming obsessed with her like some lovesick puppy, made Terry’s jaw clench. But how did she get her hands on something like that? How did she know she would need something that powerful? Terry knew she was no witch, so she couldn’t have made it herself. So whoever did her work, did they know about him? Or did Stephanie know too? He needed to find out fast. And he needed to deal with her for even trying some shit like that on him. But, as always, there was someone far more important he needed to focus on. 

His eyes drifted to Camille, who looked to be in a state of horrified dissociation as she leaned against her mother’s shoulder. He licked his lips in a desperate attempt to taste any residual of her lips, of her mouth. His whole body seemed to buzz from their exchange on the patio. He had to force himself to concentrate to keep his mind from dwelling on how she so easily melted into him. How sweet she sounded moaning into his mouth. She had kissed him… she had actually kissed him. He wanted to feel triumphant. At least, more than he did. But he could tell that the night for her was overshadowed by the psychotic episode they just witnessed. But episode be damned. Terry wasn’t going to let this night slip away like it was nothing. After the breakthrough they had experienced tonight, there was no way he was going to let her out of his sight, not without some sort of resolution. He couldn’t bear the idea of letting her leave without a conversation, without clearing the air. Slowly, he pushed himself away from the balcony and crossed the short distance to where Camille stood.

Her mother, ever watchful, stiffened slightly at his approach, her eyes narrowing with wariness. But Terry wasn’t going to be deterred. Not tonight. Not after everything.

He gently grasped Camille’s elbow, the contact light but firm enough to draw her attention away from the place where Aston was just standing. “Camille,” he called out. She startled, a tiny gasp escaping her lips, as if she’d been lost in thought, unaware of the world around her. Her eyes blinked rapidly, fighting back the tears threatening to spill over.

“Oh, Terry,” she murmured, her voice quivering as she stepped forward, wrapping her arms around his torso in a sudden, almost desperate gesture. The action was unexpected, but Terry didn’t hesitate. He welcomed her, pulling her close, instinctively guiding her to rest her head against his chest.

“I’m so, so sorry,” she whispered, her breath hitching as she pulled away just slightly, looking up at him through watery eyes. “I don’t know what’s gotten into him. All of those strange things he said about you. I just don’t know. I think he’s just a little…sick,” she hiccupped, her form trembling as she pressed herself tighter into him, seeking comfort.

He shushed her softly, a comforting hand stroking the back of her head, his thumb brushing against her hair in gently. “Camille, there’s no need to apologize. This isn’t your fault. None of this is your burden to carry.”

As she pulled back slightly, their eyes locked for a moment, the raw emotion in her gaze leaving him momentarily breathless. He fought the urge to lean in and kiss her again. He knew there would be plenty of time for that later. Instead, he forced himself to continue, his voice low and steady, “Do you want me to take you home?”

He heard a sharp intake of breath from behind them. Camille’s mother closed the distance between them and latched onto Camille’s arms, beginning to pull her away. Camille just wrapped herself tighter around him and Terry held onto her tighter. Camille’s mother glared up at him.

“That’s very thoughtful, sir, but I think you two have had enough time alone,” Camille’s mother chimed in, her voice dripping with disapproval. She looked to Camille, who refused to meet her gaze. “Come on Camille… let’s check and see if Aston is alright,” she added, her tone much more gentle.

Terry’s grip tightened even more, his expression hardening with quiet resolve. His eyes narrowed at the gesture, the tension in the air thickening. With a calm yet undeniable force, he responded, “Mrs. DeWaterson, Camille’s comfort is my priority. Don’t you think seeing him right now would be too much for her?” His words were laced with power, the Veil weaving through his tone like an invisible thread, an undercurrent of power that would not be ignored. Terry knew that she wouldn’t be able to refuse his suggestion.

The woman blinked a few times, as if momentarily stunned by the lack of control over her mind as it scrambled to process his suggestion. The brief hesitation passed, and then, as if the words were her own natural response, she spoke. “You…you have a point.” She removed her hands from Camille and took a few steps back, still blinking with confusion. Terry felt a flicker of satisfaction, his body relaxing slightly. Good. Now, leave us be.

He watched as her eye twitched, fighting against his command. “Camille, please just remember everything at stake,” her voice quivered. Terry narrowed his eyes, doubling down on his influence over her. She stopped talking and turned sharply, her heels clicking against the floor with a speed and posture that seemed forced. Camille’s eyes tracked her slowly, her brow furrowing in confusion at her mother’s retreating form. But she didn’t voice any objection, didn’t make any move to stop her.

Terry gently cupped her chin in his hand, his touch tender but firm. He guided her face back to him, forcing her gaze to meet his again. Her eyes, still clouded with discomfort and exhaustion, softened as he spoke, his voice low and soothing. “You wanna go now? Get some rest?” His thumb brushed over her soft skin before he released his hold to let her move freely again.

She nodded as she unwound herself from his embrace. He noticed the way her shoulders drooped slightly, the weight of the night still pressing down on her, but there was a flicker of relief in her eyes.

Terry stepped forward, taking her arm gently but with purpose, guiding her away from the scene, towards a quieter, less crowded exit. Most people still lingered near where Aston had been, and the space ahead of them was mostly empty, allowing them some privacy.

He slipped a hand into his suit jacket pocket and retrieved his phone. His fingers danced over the screen as he typed a quick message to his driver:

Leaving now. Be ready for two stops. 

Just as he hit send, a message from Jabari flickered across his screen: 

It’s done. 

His lips curled into a slight smirk as he tucked his phone back into his jacket pocket.

He glanced down at Camille, her fingers still lightly gripping his forearm, the warmth of her touch a stark contrast to the cold, calculated thoughts racing through his mind. That same far away, worried look she had before had returned to her face. He gently placed his hand over hers, a subtle but deliberate action to bring her mind out of her worries and back to reality. Back to him. 

“You not shutting down on me, are you Camille?” He asked as he pushed the door that led them to the rounded driveway of the venue. She softly chuckled, shooting him a smile that didn’t meet her eyes. “No Terry,” she said quietly. “Just thinking, that’s all.”

He sighed inwardly. He could feel the tension radiating from Camille, the way her mind was undoubtedly consumed with worry for Aston. She was probably replaying the scene in her head, trying to make sense of it all, wondering what could have pushed him to act the way he did. And then there was the question of Stephanie. Why he attacked her of all people. He could almost see the gears turning behind her eyes, the attempts to piece everything together, the deep concern, all wrapped in layers of confusion and helplessness.He shook his head lightly, trying to push his anger away. He could feel her thoughts swirling, even without her saying a word, and it made his stomach tighten. He placed his hand gently on the small of her back as they neared his private black car, his driver Lorenzo already propping the door open. The contact was meant to ground her, but it did little to calm the storm brewing inside him.

His jaw tightened, the muscles in his face clenching momentarily as a surge of possessive jealousy rose in his chest. The thought of her mind occupied by Aston, of her attention lingering on someone else, ignited something dark and primal inside him. I should’ve fucking killed him. A long time ago. His thoughts twisted.

But he forced himself to breathe. This wasn’t about Aston. This was about Camille, this was just her normal reaction. She was compassionate, too deeply at times, and her concern for others was part of who she was. It didn’t mean anything beyond that. It didn’t change the undeniable truth of what they had shared, what was still between them. The kiss, the connection they had, it was real. The feelings she had for him hadn’t disappeared just because she was worried about someone else, even if it stung.

He gently assisted her as she stepped into the Suburban, making sure her flowing gown didn’t snag or catch on anything as she moved. Once she was settled, he slid into the seat beside her. The driver swiftly closed the door with a quiet click, then hurried back to his seat, the hum of the engine coming to life with a soft roar.

Terry leaned forward, his fingers lightly brushing the blacked-out divider that separated the front of the vehicle from the back. With a soft click, he raised it, the sound of the mechanism muffled in the otherwise quiet car. As soon as the barrier was in place, sealing them away from the rest of the world, the silence between them was broken by soft, shaky sniffles. Terry turned his gaze to Camille, watching her struggle to hold back the tears that had already started to spill over. Her face was a mask of effort, but it was clear the floodgates were ready to burst.

Without saying a word, he reached out and gently pulled her into him, settling her into his lap. She stiffened for the briefest moment, caught off guard by his sudden movement, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, her body sagged into his, and she let go. Her sobs hit him like a wave, deep and wracking, her shoulders trembling with the force of each breath she gasped for. Terry wrapped his arms around her, pulling her even closer, trying to offer her whatever comfort he could. He pressed soft kisses to the top of her head, his hands tracing slow, soothing circles on her back, willing her to feel safe in his arms. Her cries soaked into his chest, her tears staining the fabric of his shirt, but he didn’t mind.

His eyes closed, and he let out a deep sigh, pushing down the ache that rose in his own chest. It was unbearable to see her like this, so broken and upset. But at the same time, something inside him swelled with gratitude, because in this raw moment, she was trusting him enough to fall apart. She had found a space with him where she didn’t have to hold back.

As the sobs began to subside, Camille wiped her face with trembling hands, her movements hurried and self-conscious, as if she was trying to hide the emotions she couldn’t control. Her voice came out thick with emotion, a broken whisper. “I’m… I-I’m so sorry, Terry,” she choked out, the words trembling as she forced herself to calm down. “This is so inappropriate of me–”

Before she could continue, Terry gently cupped her face, his fingers brushing away the last of her tears. “Camille, baby,” he murmured softly, cutting her off, “please don’t apologize. Just let it all out. I don’t mind at all.” His voice was firm but tender, his eyes locking onto hers to add to his sincerity.

Camille

She wanted to feel embarrassed. She wanted to feel ashamed, to shrink into herself. But when she gazed up at Terry, his expression soft and free of judgment, only filled with genuine concern, she couldn’t shake the sense that there was nowhere else in the world she’d feel safer. His gaze felt like a quiet promise, one that made her feel sheltered, protected, even in her most vulnerable state. His words, gentle and soothing, wrapped around her like the warmest, most comforting blanket, filling the aching spaces within her.

But as much as she wanted to let herself be comforted by him, her mind couldn’t hold onto that peace for long. The tears kept coming, falling faster now, a steady stream that she couldn’t stop. She dropped her head, unable to look at him anymore, as though the simple act of hiding her face could somehow make her disappear. She just wanted to be invisible. She couldn’t bear the idea of him seeing her like this. Not her boss. Not the man she loved.

I can’t believe I’m crying like this in front of him, she thought, her heart aching at the vulnerability she was forced to reveal. He probably thinks I’m so dramatic...

The shame swelled as she imagined how Terry might be viewing her now. He already had to witness her fiancé’s ridiculous outbursts about him, absurd accusations thrown in front of his colleagues. He had seen her mother treat her like a stubborn child, dragging her and bossing her around like she owned her. He must think I’m just as dysfunctional as everything around me, she mused bitterly. A mess, just like everything else in my life.

Her humiliation grew. Camille tried to push herself off his lap, to get away from the intense vulnerability she was drowning in. But Terry’s grip didn’t falter. His hold on her was firm, steady, unyielding. Even as she tried to pull away, pulled her chin to face him. The movement was soft but insistent, coaxing her to meet his eyes despite her desperate urge to look away.

She shut her eyes tightly, fighting the pull of his gaze, afraid of what she might see reflected in them. His eyes felt like they could strip her bare, unravel her even more. She couldn’t look. She couldn’t bear to be seen. But still, she could feel him, his presence, drawing her in, not letting her hide from him.

“I’m sorr–” Camille started to speak, but her words were cut off by a kiss. Deep, tender, and so unexpected that her eyes flew open in surprise. But as Terry’s lips pressed against hers with gentle insistence, her eyelids fluttered, and the kiss deepened. A wave of heat pooled in the pit of her stomach, radiating outward to every part of her body. Her intimate areas throbbed with a sudden, overwhelming need, a sharp pang of anticipation that made it hard to think. Every nerve seemed to hum with the connection, her pulse quickening as his kiss lingered, soft but searing with unspoken desire.

After what felt like an eternity, Terry slowly pulled back, his lips leaving hers with a quiet reluctance. He rested his forehead against hers, breathing softly, and for a moment, neither of them spoke. It was as if time had momentarily stopped, and they were the only two people in the world.

“Camille, please don’t apologize,” Terry murmured, his voice thick with emotion. His hand reached up to caress her cheek, the warmth of his touch sending a tremor through her body. “I deeply care about you. I’m drawn to you in ways I can’t fully explain.” His words were sincere.

His thumb stroked the delicate skin of her jaw, and she felt a shiver of warmth spread through her. “I know tonight’s been heavy for you, and I don’t want to brush past that, but…” He leaned in slowly, his lips brushing hers. “Nothing that happened tonight was your fault.”

Everything fell away and they simply looked into each other’s eyes, as if speaking without words. But Camille couldn’t hold his gaze for long. Her eyes flickered away, finding the window, her thoughts spiraling.

“Still…” she began, her voice shaking with self-doubt. “I shouldn’t have kissed you. That was unaccepta–”

But Terry’s deep chuckle interrupted her, full of warmth and amusement. Her eyes returned to his. “I kissed you back, didn’t I?” he said, a playful glint in his eyes. “I told you how I really feel about you, right?”

Camille opened her mouth to rebuttal but the words never came. And they didn’t need to because Terry continued.

“Like I said, I know tonight’s been a lot for you. But don’t beat yourself up about anything that happened. Especially not kissing me. I’m grateful that you did,” he said. He gave her a sheepish smile, his eyes soft but filled with something deeper, something she couldn’t quite name. She just stared back at him, her expression a mix of surprise and confusion, her mind struggling to process everything. 

“But… what about Stephanie?” Camille asked, her voice soft but laced with disbelief. She felt him tense beneath her. His eyes narrowed, and she could feel the shift in the energy around them as his expression turned more serious.

“Why would she tell me she’s your girlfriend if that’s not true?” she pressed, her gaze searching his, trying to find something—anything.

Terry’s face hardened, and he dropped his hand from her face, the softness of his earlier touch vanishing. He turned her to face him, as much as the confines of her dress allowed, her body shifting in his lap. 

“Stephanie is not, and never was, my girlfriend,” he said, each word deliberate, his tone unwavering. “She misunderstood our previous arrangement. It’s been over for months. She probably told you that out of jealousy.”

His words were firm, leaving no room for ambiguity, but still, Camille’s mind couldn't help but race. She nodded, as if to convince herself, knowing he had no reason to lie. Yet, a faint stir of doubt lingered in the back of her mind, a feeling that there was more to the story than he was revealing. But how could she blame him for that? He was a single man, and she… well, she wasn’t single herself.

Her thoughts immediately turned to Aston. The guilt crept in like a shadow, darkening her heart. I’m cheating on him, she thought, her stomach twisting. Yes, he deserves it, but… it still feels wrong.

The sharp edge of her guilt faded as she felt Terry’s soft lips brush against her forehead sweetly. “Come on,” he whispered, his voice soothing, “let’s not let you worry about anything else tonight.” He pulled his phone from his pocket and held it out to her, the screen lit up with Apple Maps. “Let’s get you home.”

Camille bit her lip, taking the phone from him, and typed in Kali’s address, her fingers trembling slightly. She pressed ‘Go,’ and the directions began to echo through the car’s speakers, the driver easing the vehicle into motion.

For a few minutes, the only sound was the low hum of the engine and the soothing rhythm of Terry’s hand rubbing gentle circles into her thighs. Camille tried to let herself relax, but her mind wouldn’t stop churning. Am I being stupid? she wondered, her thoughts tumbling over one another. Is Terry lying about Stephanie? Is Aston going to be okay? The questions gnawed at her, biting into the fragile peace she’d momentarily found. Is this wrong? Her heart felt like it was being pulled in two directions.

“Camille.”

The sound of Terry’s voice sliced through her racing thoughts, his words grounding her once again. She looked back at him and what she saw made her heart skip. His eyes were serious, intense, but there was something soft in them too, something that made her breath catch.

“I’m serious about you,” he said sincerely. “I want you to be mine. And I want to be yours.”

Her eyes widened in surprise, her mind momentarily frozen by the intensity of his confession. His gaze never wavered.

“Now, you don’t have to give me an answer right now,” he continued, his voice calm yet filled with purpose. “But we will be having a conversation about this. Sooner than later. Okay?”

Camille felt a flutter in her chest. She took a moment, letting the words sink in, before giving a small, almost imperceptible nod. 

“Okay–” As soon as the words left her mouth, his lips were on hers. She moaned as she lost herself in him. He kissed her with so much passion, so much fervor. And she returned his eagerness. He pulled away from her lips, moving down to her jaw and her neck.

“Terry,” she moaned, her eyes fluttering as his lips touched the most sensitive parts of her skin. He hummed softly in response, placing another kiss on her collarbone. He shifted her in his lap, his growing bulge pushing against her ass. She gasped as his tongue ran up the side of her neck. Her head fell back, giving him better access to her and making him smile against her skin. 

His kisses on her neck and shoulders turned into slurps and bites. Camille had no doubt that his actions would leave behind hickies in some areas. But she couldn’t care less. She felt like she was in heaven.

She moaned a mixture of curses and his name as he moved lower down, going towards her cleavage. Terry let out a deep growl as he tugged down the top of her dress, exposing her full chest. In one swift motion, he pulled her off his lap and laid her back down against the cool leather seats. He hovered over her as he tugged the rest of the heavy gown down her body, casting it somewhere behind them as soon as it was past her heels. 

He pulled back slightly, kneeling over her to take her in fully. She was almost completely naked, wearing nothing but black lace bikini-style underwear. He stared down at her, his eyes looking her up and down as they swirled with intensity. And it made her self-conscious. She moved to cover herself with her arms, but Terry grabbed them before she could. 

“Don’t hide yourself from me. You’re too fucking beautiful for that,” he muttered, pulling her wrists together and pinning them above her. He kept them gripped in his left hand while his right hand traced her body lightly, making her breath hitch. He chuckled, leaning down to plant another deep kiss on her lips. But then he trailed light pecks down her chest, gripping her breast in his large hand, guiding her nipple into his mouth.

“Ooooh, fuck,” Camille cried out, arching into him. He chuckled, the sensation sending vibrations through her. His tongue dragged against the sensitive puff, his hand releasing her heavy tit. It slid down to her panties, tugging the material to the side. His fingers played with her slick folds as he leaned back to look down at her again.

“Damn,” he breathed, his thumb circling her clit in slow, teasing circles. “I got you this wet already, baby?” She just whined in response, her eyes rolling back as he slowly slipped a digit into her weeping hole. Once he was knuckle deep, he pulled back slightly before plunging back deeper into her depths, adding another finger to stretch her out.

“So fucking tight,” he muttered. “Can’t wait to feel this pretty ass pussy around me.” Moans tumbled past her lips as he continued to fuck her with his fingers as his thumb circled her clit. After a few moments, stars began to form behind Camille’s vision. “T-Terry,” she stuttered, feeling herself clenching around him. 

“Just let go baby,” he purred. “Cum for me.” His fingers curled in a come hither motion, hitting a spot she didn’t even know she had. “Terry!” she shouted as her orgasm rippled through her. She writhed and twisted as her high stole her breath.

But Terry’s fingers continued to pump in and out of her at the same pace, making a squelching sound fill the air. She squirmed at the overstimulation, looking up at him with a pleading look. He gave her a smirk, slowly pulling the two thick fingers from her sex, bringing them to his mouth. She watched as he erotically licked his fingers clean, never breaking eye contact with her.

“Fucking delicious,” he growled, pulling at her panties lightly before snatching them off completely and tossing the fabric next to them. “Too sexy for your own good…” he trailed off as he released his grip on her wrists. But before Camille could reorient herself, he pulled her thighs farther apart, giving him easy access to her pussy. He licked his lips as he stared at her soaked folds, gently pushing her to the farthest end of the seat, lining her pussy up with his face. She closed her eyes in anticipation as she felt his breath hover above her quivering heat. 

“Look at me,” he demanded, forcing her to meet his gaze again. She propped herself up slightly, watching as the ocean colored orbs stared back at her. Without another word, his tongue took a long drag across her pussy, making her shout as her toes curled. He groaned, the sensation making her legs shake and setting every nerve in her body on fire. His tongue flicked rapidly, his lips sucked furiously, and his mouth slurped expertly. She attempted to run from him, but his strong hands held her on place, forcing her to succumb to sweet torture. He would alternate between slow, deliberate licks that pulled low moans from her to quick slurps that made her mind buzz. And in between, his tongue would plunge into her hole, making her feel stuffed. It didn’t take long for her to come all over his tongue, making him grip her even harder.

But he didn’t stop. He pushed her past overstimulation, her cries becoming gasps as her third orgasm crashed over her. Only then did he finally show her some mercy. “That’s it princess,” he chuckled, placing sloppy kisses on her inner thighs. “Wet these seats up.”

She attempted to catch her breath, her mind too jumbled to do anything but let him do whatever he wanted to her. 

But, something shifted.

He pulled back suddenly, as though jolted from a trance, his body flinching as he recoiled from her touch. It was as if an invisible force had snapped him out of a deep, intense daze. His movements were jerky as he quickly scooted back, distancing himself further, avoiding any form of eye contact. Camille sat up on her elbows, her brow furrowed in confusion. A cold knot of unease formed in her stomach as she looked at him. “Is everything alright?” she asked softly, her voice betraying a hint of concern as he shifted even further away.

He gave a quick nod, but his gaze never met hers. For a split second, Camille could have sworn his eyes flickered a different color. Was it red? But when she blinked, they were back to that familiar blue shade. She shook the thought away, convinced that she had imagined it.

“D-Did I do something wrong?” she asked, her voice catching in her throat, anxiety tightening around her chest like a vice. His eyes finally met hers again.

“No, baby, not at all,” he replied, his voice quiet but heavy with something she couldn’t place. “I just need to get you home,” he breathed, his words barely more than a whisper. Camille's mind raced, her instincts telling her that something was off, but she didn’t want to press him too hard. She decided, instead, to push forward, to be bold in the face of his retreat.

“I don’t have to go home…” she said, her voice trailing off into a teasing suggestion, a playful offer hanging in the air.

His eyes flickered over her body in a way that sent a chill down her spine, lust and hunger obvious in his expression. His chest rose and fell with deep, shaky breaths.

“We’re almost at your place,” he murmured, his voice tight, strained. “Come here.”

Camille, disappointed, slid towards him, her eyes searching his face for any hint of what was really going on. He shrugged out of his suit jacket and guided her naked body into it, pulling it around her shoulders with a gentleness that didn’t quite match the turmoil she felt radiating off of him.

“Terry,” she pleaded, her voice laced with worry and longing. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, Camille. I promise,” he said, the words smooth but hollow. There was an unmistakable strain in his voice and it made her heart drop into her stomach. Something was terribly wrong. She could feel it, even as he tried to convince her otherwise.

He bent down to help her slip into her shoes, which must’ve fallen off as he had her legs spread wide, just as the car rolled to a stop. Camille’s gaze drifted toward the window, her eyes momentarily resting on the familiar shops lining the street outside of Kali’s apartment building. As the car door opened with a soft click, the driver stepped aside, allowing Terry to guide her out, his hand gently brushing against hers as they both stepped onto the curb.

“Can I walk you up?” he asked, his voice warm yet tight. He placed his hand on the small of her back, a touch meant to comfort, but Camille couldn’t ignore the tension in the air. She gave him a shy smile, trying to mask her disappointment.

“Sure, if you want,” she answered, her voice light but hesitant. She didn’t want to appear too eager, didn’t want to seem desperate. But the truth was, she didn’t want to leave his side, not just yet.

He flashed her a slight, reassuring smile, the kind that almost made her forget her unease. “Yes, ma’am. Lead the way.”

As they walked together through the lobby, Camille couldn't help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, Terry wanted to spend more time with her at her place. The thought flickered through her mind, only to be dashed by the reality of the situation. Too bad this isn’t my place, she thought as they stepped into the elevator.

Her finger pressed the button to Kali’s floor as she sighed softly. What went wrong? They were enjoying themselves, weren’t they? At least, she thought they were. Her heart felt heavy, her mind racing to see if she had missed something. Missed a cue. But she couldn’t think of anything. She slumped a little as the elevator doors slid shut.

As they ascended, Camille couldn’t help but notice Terry’s foot tapping impatiently against the elevator floor, the sound almost too loud in the otherwise quiet space. He must be eager to get away from me, she thought, a pang of insecurity hitting her like a cold wave. She wrapped her fingers tighter around the fabric of his suit jacket, trying to steady herself.

The elevator’s chime rang out, breaking the silence. She quickly guided them out, her steps hurried as she led him toward Kali’s door, her pulse quickening with every step. Her embarrassment was crawling up her neck and into her cheeks. Getting inside was the only thing that she felt could make her feelings go away. She knocked a few times and prayed that Kali wasn’t wearing her headphones and drowning in her music.

Just as Camille’s heart began to sink with the fear of an unanswered door, it swung open with a swift motion.

“Cammieeee!” Kali’s voice rang out, bright and full of her signature infectious energy. “Oh, hi Terry…?” Her voice trailed off as if she asked a question.

“Hey, Kali,” Terry responded, his voice even more strained than before. Camille barely registered Kali’s excited chatter as she tried to slip past them, eager to retreat from the overwhelming moment. But before she could get any farther, Terry’s hand shot out, gripping her wrist with surprising force.

He pulled her back toward him, making her pulse race. He gripped the back of her neck and shamelessly plunged his tongue into her mouth. Her gasp was muffled by his tongue twisting against hers. She clenched her thighs together as she tasted herself on him, her mind drifting to what they had shared in the car. But the moment wasn’t long. He pulled away quickly, leaving her dazed.

“Goodnight, baby. We’ll talk later,” he murmured, his voice a mixture of sweetness and finality, before he turned abruptly, making his way back toward the elevators. His steps were longer, quicker than usual, as though something was pressing him to leave in a hurry. Camille watched him, her heart still thudding, until he disappeared around the corner.

A moment of silence lingered between Camille and Kali as they turned to face each other. Kali’s eyes were wide in surprise, her gaze flickering over Camille’s form as a soft pink hue spread across her caramel-toned cheeks. Kali’s eyes swept over Camille from head to toe, taking in her new attire. The elegant blue gown Camille had worn earlier was now nowhere to be found. Instead, she was swaddled in a men’s suit jacket, the fabric oversized and hanging off her shoulder. 

Camille gave Kali an embarrassed smile. She’s going to want to hear everything, Camille thought. She shifted uncomfortably, trying to hide the flush creeping up her neck. “After you,” Kali said softly. 

Camille stepped inside, the sound of the door clicking shut behind her feeling louder than it should have. She could feel Kali's gaze on her. Sharp, observant, like a hawk. But Camille pretended not to notice her best friend’s scrutiny. Instead, she caught her own reflection in the mirror near the entrance, and the sight made her freeze.

Her hairstyle was a chaotic mess, strands of hair falling loose and wild from where they had once been perfectly styled. Her lips were swollen and red, and most of her makeup had been smeared, leaving dark smudges under her eyes and across her cheeks. Her neck and collarbone were dotted with hickies, dark purple and unmistakable. The sight of them made her throat tighten and she quickly turned away, the image of herself only deepening her self-consciousness.

“Bitch,” Kali started, her voice intense but laced with amusement. “Are you really about to walk in here and not tell me what the hell happened tonight?”

Camille barely registered Kali’s words as they passed through one ear and out the other. Her mind was elsewhere. She couldn’t help herself, her feet carrying her over to the window that faced the street. The timing was almost cruelly perfect. She saw Terry’s silhouette just as he hopped back into the car, his movements hurried as the driver closed the door behind him. Her chest tightened as she watched the car pull away.

A deep, heavy sigh escaped her lips as she stared out the window. Was I too forward? The question gnawed at her. Did I say the wrong thing? She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to silence the doubts that swirled inside her. Did I do something that made him change his mind?

With a resigned breath, she stepped away from the window, her feet dragging as she turned back to face the living room. Kali stood there, her arms crossed. The silence between them was suffocating as she gave Camille a look that seemed to say, I know something happened. Now, spill. But Camille hesitated momentarily.

“Girl, did you hear me? What the hell happened?” Kali asked, settling into a plush chair. “You look like you’ve been thoroughly fucked. You got this whole walk of shame look going on.” 

Camille let out a soft chuckle at her friend’s bluntness but it quickly faded as she thought about how heavy tonight was. She sank into the seat across from Kali. For a moment, she stared at the floor, then sighed, looking up to meet Kali’s eager eyes.

“Tonight was… crazy,” Camille said, the words escaping her lips like a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. She felt like she was still processing it all, the events spinning in her mind, impossible to organize.

Kali, never one to hold back, let out a giggle. “Obviously, babe!” Her voice was filled with mock surprise, but the sparkle in her eyes showed she was genuinely intrigued. “That man tonguing you down in front of me? And called you baby? I have to know how we got to this point.”

With a deep sigh, Camille began, recounting every detail of the chaotic night. She told Kali how she and Terry had shared that intense kiss on the balcony. She explained how Aston had exploded and lost control in front of everyone, his fury turning the night upside down. Camille’s words slowed as she described the moments with Terry in the car, how their conversation grew increasingly intimate, how vulnerable he seemed, how vulnerable she had felt, allowing him into spaces she hadn’t planned on sharing.

As she spoke, Kali was hanging onto every word, her gaze never wavering. She leaned forward, eyebrows raised, eyes wide with a mix of awe and curiosity. It was clear from her body language that Kali was fully invested in the story, living each moment with Camille.

“I mean, like I said, tonight was crazy,” Camille said, her voice trailing off at the end, the words almost lost in the haze of her thoughts. Her mind briefly wandered back to the car ride with Terry and how he practically devoured her. How his eyes watched her as she came on his tongue. Her pussy throbbed at the thought. The intensity of it left her breathless, her heart still thumping a little faster at the memory.

“But…” Camille faltered, her voice dropping to a quieter, almost hesitant tone. She wrung her hands nervously in her lap as the embarrassment crept up her neck. “I think I might have been too eager,” she murmured, her face flushing as the memory of her boldness with Terry hit her again. The way she had practically invited herself to his place, desperately trying to cling to the moment they were sharing. Her chest tightened at the thought, a knot of shame curling inside her.

Kali tilted her head to the side in confusion, a flicker of amusement passing through her expression before it shifted into genuine curiosity. “Huhh?” she asked, her voice soft, almost incredulous. 

Camille sighed, sinking deeper into the chair’s cushion. “He probably thinks I’m a slut,” she muttered. She dropped her head into her hands. “I ruined what we had before it even got anywhere.” 

Kali’s eyes widened in dramatic disbelief as she gasped. “Okay, wait. I love you, Cam, but you sound ridiculous right now,” she said, the words tumbling out with a mix of affection and exasperation. She threw her hands up, letting out an exaggerated sigh before rising from her seat in one fluid motion, her body language speaking volumes of her frustration.

With a confident stride, Kali made her way to the kitchen, the sound of her footsteps echoing lightly on the floor as she moved with purpose. She reached for a bottle of wine, her fingers curling around the neck of the dark glass like it was an extension of her own energy. With a sharp twist of her wrist, she popped the cork with a satisfying thwip before pouring the wine into two glasses, the deep red liquid swirling in the light. Her movements were quick, almost theatrical, as she spoke.

“That man,” Kali continued, her voice rising slightly, the words rolling off her tongue like a lecture she couldn’t wait to deliver, “not only got you back here, but he walked you all the way up and french kissed you to hell and back right in front of me! That’s not casual, Camille. That seems like he’s pretty damn interested to me.”

Camille’s eyes followed Kali as she carried the glasses back into the living room, her heart still fluttering. “You think so?” Camille asked, her voice soft, the words feeling like a tentative offering. She couldn’t tear her gaze away from Kali, watching as her friend set the glasses down, the dark wine shimmering in the low light.

Kali raised an eyebrow. She slid one of the glasses toward Camille, the stem of the glass cool and delicate between her fingers. “Cam, if that doesn’t scream interested, then I don’t know what does,” she said, her voice laced with a teasing certainty.

“And even if you came across too eager, tonight was a rough night, right? Terry likes you, he would give you some grace. And maybe you should be a little slutty. You deserve some dick, and you need to make that clear to him.”

Camille blinked, her mind slowly processing Kali’s words. Maybe I am being too hard on myself, she thought. Maybe I need to be clearer about what I want. She frowned as she absently reached for her clutch. But as her hand swept across the space beside her, her fingers met nothing but air.

Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and for a moment, she simply stared at the space where her clutch should have been. The feeling of something missing gnawed at her, unsettling in its suddenness. She sat up straighter, her mind flicking back through the events of the evening.

Wait a minute. Her heart skipped as the realization slowly crept in. She never placed her clutch next to her. In fact, she hadn’t brought it inside at all.

Camille’s mind raced, her thoughts spinning faster as she tried to piece together the fragments of the night. She could clearly picture the last time she saw it, lying innocently on the backseat floor of the black Suburban as her thighs sat on Terry’s shoulders. Its contents neatly arranged inside: her phone, her ID, her credit cards. Everything she needed to keep in sight.She leaned her head back as she realized her mistake. Fuck.

Terry

Terry’s voice cut through the silence of the car like a blade, low and menacing. “Lorenzo, if you don’t speed up this car, I will fucking eat you. No hesitation,” The growl in his words sent a shiver down the young supernatural’s spine, his fingers instinctively tightening around the steering wheel as he stole a quick, fearful glance at Terry through the rearview mirror. With trembling hands, he pressed his foot harder on the gas pedal, sending the car surging forward toward the destination Terry demanded as soon as he returned to the car.

The road and passing buildings blurred, but it wasn’t the journey that consumed Terry’s focus. It was the gnawing, insatiable hunger that clawed at him, burning like a fire that threatened to swallow him whole. His stomach churned painfully as the dark, overwhelming need for human blood swirled in his veins, a primal hunger writhing beneath his skin. Every second was a battle. Terry’s vision flickered as his eye color shifted back and forth. He could feel madness tugging at the edges of his consciousness, the urge to sink his fangs, and his cock, into the woman he had just dropped off pulling at his sanity. But he couldn’t go back. He wouldn’t go back.

His grip on his seat tightened, his claws ripping away the leather as he fought to keep himself in check, but his resolve was starting to fray at the edges. He had been fighting for what felt like eternity, but he couldn’t risk losing his composure. I’ve held on for this long, he thought, his breath coming out in shallow gasps. The thought of Camille flashed in his mind, a vivid image of her warmth, her scent, her pulse beneath his fingertips. Her naked body that she so willingly offered to him. The hunger intensified, his mouth pooling with saliva. 

He shook his head, trying to reason with himself. I can’t feed from Camille again. Not now, he thought. There won’t be an excuse that I could use.

He continued to soothe himself as he thought back to the moment where everything had shifted. He was eating her pussy like it was his last fucking meal. She smelled divine and tasted even sweeter. And her moans? It was the most satisfying thing he ever heard in his life. And the way she came on his tongue… it nearly made him feral. He was tempted to take her straight to his penthouse and claim every inch of her until the sun rose. But he contained himself, pulling away to kiss the inside of her thighs to calm himself before he lost all control. But then, it happened. His canine nicked her flesh ever so slightly, and a drop of blood landed on his tongue. It didn’t take more than a second for him to realize he got a taste of her nectar. Smooth as the finest wine and sweet and rich like molasses. He knew he had to get her away from him. And fast.

He hated how confused and dejected she had looked. He knew she felt like he was casting her aside. And he despised how he had to turn her down when she suggestively asked to stay the night at his place. 

Just as Terry was about to snap at Lorenzo, the car finally pulled in front of the destination. Red Rum. An exclusive BDSM playground in the heart of Houston that doubled as a space to supply vampires with Indulgences. The human members were aware of the existence of his kind and got off on being available for their consumption. The space was perfect for lust and bloodlust to intermingle. Although less popular than Crimson, and Terry didn’t have any ownership in it, Red Rum was useful to Terry during rare occasions like this.

Terry didn’t wait for Lorenzo to come to a complete stop. With a growl of impatience, he threw open the door, and stepped out of the vehicle, his dress shoes hitting the pavement with a solid thud as he strode toward the entrance with a predatory grace.

The bouncers at the door shifted, their eyes narrowing as they assessed him. But the moment recognition flickered across their faces, their expressions turned fearful. They stepped aside, clearing the path for him with the ease of men who knew better than to challenge someone like Terry.

He barely acknowledged them as he moved past, his gaze fixed on the door ahead. The hallway stretched out in front of him, long and brightly lit, the deep red of the lights casting an almost sinister glow.

His footsteps echoed off the polished floors, reverberating down the corridor.

At the end of the hall, a set of imposing double doors loomed. With a swift, violent motion, Terry pushed through them, the sound of the heavy wood slamming against the frame loud enough to be heard over the low hum from within.

The air was thick with the smell of sex and alcohol, moans of pleasure and screams of delight mingling with the sound of flogging and other types of play. But Terry didn’t even blink as his eyes swooped over the orgy unfolding before him. Instead, his eyes scanned for any stray wanderers. He felt a small hand grasp his bicep and he glanced down, his eyes meeting a short, fairly attractive woman wearing nothing but a collar with a leash who stared up at him with a warm, eager smile. 

She will do, he thought to himself.

Lorenzo

Lorenzo paced outside of the car as he waited patiently for his terrifying but well paying client. Although he didn’t drive him often, Lorenzo knew the ins and outs of Terry Richmond’s reputation. And from that reputation, he learned three things. One, don’t waste his time. Two, don’t try to fuck him over. And three, keep your eyes off his women. Up until tonight, Lorenzo followed those three principles to the tee. 

But when he saw the Indulgence that he brought back with him when he left his event… he couldn’t help but stare. She was gorgeous, and just his type. Dark skin, big titties, little waist. He would do anything to have someone like her to come home to every night. But he made sure Terry never caught his wandering eye. It’s not like he got to look at her long anyway. He kept the privacy barrier in the car closed. But he still got to enjoy her in his own way. 

From the way she was moaning, Terry was tearing that ass up in the backseat. Lorenzo’s imagination ran wild as he beat himself off with one hand and drove with the other. He couldn’t help but think about how her face looked when she came. How she looked right before she hit her peak.

And when Terry dropped her off at her place, she looked like an angel who the devil fucked just right. Skin flushed, hair messy, wearing nothing but Terry’s suit jacket and some heels that perfectly complimented her long, shapely legs. He had fallen in love. Lorenzo’s heart raced as his thoughts circled back to her, the image of her lingering in his mind like a haunting melody he couldn’t shake. He paced in front of the luxury car, the cool night air nipping at his skin, but it did nothing to distract him. He knew it was wrong to keep thinking about her, especially after such a brief encounter. But it didn’t matter. His mind kept returning to her.

Suddenly, a soft trill cut through the silence. Lorenzo froze mid-step, his body tensing, and cocked his head to the side, trying to make sense of the sound. It came again, more insistent this time, drawing his attention to the backseat of the car. His eyes narrowed as he peered into the dimly lit interior, scanning the floor. There, partially obscured by the plush seats, was a small blue purse, its clasp slightly undone, and the corner of a cell phone peeking through. It had to be hers, he thought. She must’ve left it behind.

Lorenzo couldn’t resist. He opened the car door with a quiet click, sliding inside just enough to retrieve the bag. The phone had stopped ringing by the time he pulled it out, but the screen was still lit, showing several missed calls. His brows furrowed as he noticed the repeated name flashing on the screen: Houston Fire Department. A strange knot twisted in his gut, a flicker of concern mixed with confusion, but he didn’t dwell on it. Instead, he placed the phone back in the bag, his curiosity now burning hotter.

As his fingers brushed over the contents of the purse, they landed on something hard and plastic. His eyes flickered down to see a driver’s license. Glancing around quickly to make sure Terry hadn’t yet returned, Lorenzo pulled it out, his fingers trembling ever so slightly as he read the name that appeared in bold, printed letters: Camille DeWaterson.

The name rolled off his tongue as he stared at the photo on the ID, tracing its edges with a light touch. Her face stared back at him, soft, serene, and strikingly beautiful, captured in the flat simplicity of a driver’s license photo. For a moment, it felt as though she was there with him, her presence tangible in his hands as he caressed the thin plastic like it was the real thing. His breath caught in his throat, and he found himself lost in the simplicity of her face.

But before he could linger any longer, he heard the unmistakable sound of the front door opening. His heart skipped, and panic surged through him. In a rush, he shoved the ID back into the purse, his hands shaking as he closed the bag with a quiet snap.

“What are you doing?” Terry’s voice cut through the air, sharp and accusing, making Lorenzo’s heart leap in his chest. He whipped around quickly, the adrenaline surging in his veins, his eyes wide with surprise and guilt.

Terry stood there, towering over him, his expression one of thinly veiled suspicion.

“Oh, sorry about that, sir,” Lorenzo stammered, his voice polite, the words tumbling out in a rush to cover his flustered state. He gestured toward the blue purse, which he still held in his hands, not having had time to set it down. “I... I heard something in the backseat and found this.”

Terry’s eyes dropped to the purse, and Lorenzo saw the brief flicker of recognition flash across Terry’s face. His posture stiffened. “Shit,” he muttered, grabbing it from him. He pulled out the phone and checked the notifications before his eyes met Lorenzo’s again. “Thanks for finding this. Let’s go, I got another stop to make.”

Lorenzo nodded, hurrying out of his way so Terry could slide into the car. But as he jogged back to the driver’s seat, Lorenzo wondered if Terry would really mind if his eyes lingered just a bit more on Ms. Camille.

Terry

Terry leaned his head against the headrest as his body hummed with satisfaction. His thirst was quenched and his balls were empty. Sure, it wasn’t under the most ideal circumstances, but it kept him from doing something he would regret. And maybe that slip up was for the best.

Although he didn’t want anything more than Camille in his bed tonight, Terry knew that his apartment wasn’t exactly “human-proof” at the moment. His love-drawing altar sat prominently in front of his bed, adorned with pictures of Camille. Pictures he had no business having.

And then there was his fridge, stocked full of blood bags courtesy of Elijah. He couldn’t risk Camille stumbling upon any of that. Sure, he could keep the bedroom activities in his living room. But there was no way he was going to make her leave right after. And her sharp eyes, too observant for her own good, might’ve caught a glimpse of something that would send her spiraling into confusion or fear. So dropping her at Kali’s place was for the best. Especially since it was the only place he could drop her too. 

Terry’s mind lingered on the message from Jabari, the one he had received over an hour ago. The simple confirmation that Camille’s old apartment was gone, consumed by flames.

Since he had her phone, he hoped she wouldn’t find out about the fire right away. The thought of her being burdened with the knowledge of her past being lost was something he wanted to delay, at least for a little while. She deserved the peace of knowing nothing was wrong, even if it was a fragile illusion. She deserved to sleep through the night without the weight of a seemingly tragic fire pressing down on her. He would make sure of that, even if it meant shielding her from the truth for a few more days.

When the news finally broke, he would be ready. He would be there to hold her, to offer comfort, to tell her everything would be okay. He would be the rock she could lean on, her knight in shining armor, sweeping in with solutions for every problem she had. Problems that he had carefully orchestrated.

But right now, his thoughts shifted. He had something far more immediate to think about. The events of the gala replayed in his mind, twisting and turning, and he knew he had to get to the bottom of it. As Lorenzo drove him back toward the venue, Terry’s mind worked over the best way to approach it. Aston was irrelevant to him, justice for that nigga wasn’t worth his time. But Stephania’s actions? Now that was something Terry couldn’t overlook. How had she managed to slip that love potion into his drink without anyone noticing?

The venue had to be crawling with cameras, but the problem was that no one had likely paid attention to the footage yet. To them, it was just another night, another drunk man making a fool of himself. But Terry knew better. He knew there was something deeper at play here, and he was determined to find it.

Stephanie

Stephanie stood before the full-length mirror in her bedroom, scrutinizing every inch of her reflection. Her fingers traced the grooves of her lingerie, the red of the set complimenting her tan skin. She could still feel the lingering tremor of fear from the night before. Aston’s attack had been a brutal, terrifying experience that rattled her to the core. She just had never seen a man act like such a crazed animal before. But now, in the soft light of the morning, she allowed herself to focus on something else. There was a silver lining to the chaos.

Terry had reached out to her earlier, his message simple yet filled with a quiet urgency. He wanted to make sure she was okay. And he asked if he could come over. That simple question ignited something deep inside her, an unexpected spark of hope. He cares, she thought, buzzing with happiness. Maybe she didn’t need a love spell after all.

Of course, she had eagerly said yes. She’s been living for moments like this. Just times where she could be with him without her having to share his attention. She couldn’t afford to let any trace of yesterday’s pain show. Not when he was coming to see her. 

For the past two hours, she’d been meticulously preparing herself, her hands working with practiced precision as she applied layer after layer of makeup, ensuring every stroke of mascara and brush of powder was flawless. She adjusted the tie on her robe, making sure enough of her was peaking through to remain tasteful but still inviting. Her hair cascaded over her shoulders in soft waves, and she ran her fingers through it one last time, adding volume, making sure it looked effortlessly perfect.

As she took one last glance in the mirror, her breath caught in her throat as she studied her reflection. The woman staring back at her looked absolutely stunning. But of course she did. This was herself she was talking about. Terry wouldn’t be able to resist her. She would make sure that the memory of yesterday’s horrors was overshadowed by the undeniable pull between them.

She poured two glasses of wine, the rich, deep red liquid spilling smoothly. She lightly chastised herself, wishing she had some of the potion left. Just enough to add to his glass. But she quickly brushed off the thought. Tonight, if everything went according to plan, she’d have more than enough time to try again. The taste of success was already on the tip of her tongue.

Setting the wine glasses down on her kitchen table with careful precision, she looked around her living room. The atmosphere had to be just right. With a determined exhale, she moved to grab a lighter from the counter, her fingers steady as she flicked it and the flame burst to life. She moved from candle to candle, igniting them one by one. Soon, the room was bathed in soft, sultry light.

She shuddered as her mind conjured up all kinds of ways he might have his way with her. On her floor like last time? Or would it be her couch? What about the coffee table? She swooned as her mind went even further. Would he finally cum in her? Would he sink his fangs into her neck? Her panties grew damp with each passing thought.

Stephanie was jolted back to reality by a heavy knock on the door. A wave of excitement washed over her as she smiled to herself, the anticipation making her pulse quicken. She glanced at the mirror nearby, her reflection staring back at her as she subtly adjusted her hair, smoothing a stray lock of hair behind her ear. She gave herself one last look, and then hurried to the door to swing it open.

Her breath caught in her throat as her eyes locked with Terry’s. He leaned casually against the doorframe, his posture relaxed but exuding an effortless confidence. He was dressed simply. A white pullover that clung just enough to reveal the outline of his toned arms, gray sweatpants that hung loosely around his hips, and a subtle gold chain that caught the light with every small movement he made.

The combination of his casual attire and undeniable charisma left her momentarily speechless. But she quickly composed herself. 

“Come on in,” she giggled, tracing his form with her eyes. He smirked, pushing himself off the doorframe to walk into her space. His cologne trailed behind him, making her eyes flutter as she breathed him in. She quickly followed after him and guided him to her kitchen table. “Wine already?” he asked as he sat down. “On a Sunday?” Stephanie just playfully rolled her eyes. “Oh please, Terry. As if you’re some saint,” she said, her mind thinking about he had Camille in that parking lot. God, that was so fucking hot.

Terry just smirked, watching her intensely as she sat across from him. Stephanie felt confidence surge through her as she watched his reaction to her. She would be getting her way in no time. 

“So,” he began, pushing his wine glass to the side. Her eyebrows furrowed at the action, but she listened as he continued. “How are you feeling? Were you able to sleep off what happened yesterday?” he asked, his voice soft.

Stephanie fake sniffled, hoping it would get some sympathy from him. She took a long dramatic sip of her wine before she responded. “Oh, Terry… I-I’m trying my best to stay grounded and not let Aston consume me. But it’s so hard, baby. I just wish you were here to help me through everything.” Instead of a sympathetic look, Terry just tilted his head, his smirk growing wider. Almost to the point that it looked sinister. Stephanie’s confidence faltered as she watched him lean forward slightly, propping his chin up with his hand.

“You’re so fucking funny, Stephanie. Do you know that?” Stephanie’s stomach dropped, blinking rapidly as she tried to understand what he just said. “E-Excuse me?”

Terry let out a low chuckle, the sound rich and amused, vibrating through the air. His eyes gleamed with a mixture of amusement and something far darker as he leaned back with a casual ease, the lines of his body stretching in a way that seemed both effortless and intimidating. He raised his hands, slow and deliberate, and clapped them together three times, each clap sharp and resounding in the now-quiet room.

On the third clap, something almost otherworldly happened. The flames of every candle she had lit flickered violently, as if caught by an invisible gust of wind. And then, with a sudden, eerie finality, they were extinguished, leaving the room much darker. The once intimate space now felt suffocating.

Stephanie’s heart leapt into her throat, a wave of panic gripping her chest. She shot to her feet, her breath coming faster, her body instinctively tense as her eyes darted around the room. 

Terry’s smirk only deepened, his eyes narrowing slightly as he took in her flustered reaction. His voice was cool, almost mocking, as he repeated himself with slow, deliberate precision, “I said, you’re so fucking funny.” His gaze never left her, and there was something unsettling in the way his eyes seemed to pierce through the dimness. “You’re really sitting there, trying to make yourself seem like a victim,” he added, his words laced with a bite that sent a chill crawling down her spine.

It was as if Terry knew exactly how to dismantle her, piece by piece, with nothing more than a glance and a subtle shift in his tone. She could almost feel the coldness of his words wrapping around her, tightening with each breath she took.

Her eyes widened, nearly bulging from their sockets as she stared at him, her mind struggling to catch up with what he was saying. Was he mad at her? Was he somehow blaming her for everything that had happened?

Her voice trembled as she finally found the strength to speak, the words coming out in a shaky, breathless whisper. “Are you saying that what happened was my fault?” The question felt foreign on her tongue, an accusation she couldn’t quite comprehend. Her hands clenched into fists at her sides, her nails digging into her palms as she tried to hold herself together. What was going on with him? 

“Oh cut the bullshit, Stephanie. Whatever you tried to give me was passed on to Aston. Everything that happened was your fault,” Terry seethed, his expression darkening. Stephanie’s eye twitched. How the fuck did he figure that out? 

She giggled lightly. It was an attempt to defuse the thick tension in the room. “Okay, Terry,” she breathed out, her voice lighter than it should’ve been. She raised her hands innocently, the gesture as much an offering of peace as it was a shield. “Let’s just calm down, alright?”

Terry’s smile returned, though this time it didn’t reach his eyes. Without breaking his gaze, he slowly rose from his seat. Each step he took towards her was measured, predatory. “Oh, I’m very calm,” he replied, his voice smooth with a hint of something dark. “But let’s get some things straight.”

Stephanie instinctively took a step back, putting distance between them, but Terry matched her movements, his long stride closing the gap with unnerving precision.

“After today,” Terry continued, his voice low and dangerous, “I don’t ever want to see you again.” The words hit her like a slap to the face, cold and final. “So I suggest you leave the firm. Use whatever money Grant has given you over the years and disappear.”

Stephanie’s jaw went slack. He couldn’t be serious. She could feel the heat of anger rising in her chest. How dare he, how dare he, think he could control her, order her around? The nerve of him testing her in such a way. No matter how powerful he was, she wouldn’t stand for it.

Her body tensed, filling with fury. She lifted her chin, her voice steady. “Watch the way you talk to me, Terry,” she retorted. “I know more about you than you know.”

The words hung in the air, loaded with a threat that she hoped landed with the force she intended. She saw the flicker of something in Terry’s eyes, but whatever it was, he didn’t flinch. He just scoffed like he didn’t take her seriously at all.

“I don’t give a fuck that you know what I am,” he growled. Stephanie's confidence wavered. That was the only leverage she had left over him, and she could feel it slipping away. Her mind raced, scrambling to regain control of the situation before he saw the vulnerability in her eyes. She couldn’t afford to lose her footing now.

Terry leaned in slightly, his voice low and taunting. “Who are you gonna tell, huh? Who would believe you?” He chuckled darkly. 

But Stephanie wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of seeing her falter. A slow, dangerous smirk spread across her face as she met his gaze, her eyes glinting with the sharpness of someone who wasn’t willing to back down. She leaned forward slightly, her voice oozing with sweetness, but the threat behind it was unmistakable. “I don’t know,” she purred. “Maybe Camille.” Her smirk deepened, her eyes narrowing. “I’m sure she would love to know how she really fainted in that parking lot.”

Terry’s hand shot out and wrapped around Stephanie’s neck in a merciless grip. She gasped and sputtered as she attempted to pry his hands off of her. But nothing worked. Instead, he raised her slightly off her feet, dangling her in the air with one hand. She cried as she watched his appearance change. Eyes flickering to a deep red. Canines lengthening. Pupils narrowing. It frightened to the point that she closed her eyes tightly, wishing she could take back what she said. He pulled her dangling body closer to him, his lips nearly pressing against her ear.

“Don’t be fucking stupid Stephanie,” he whispered calmly. But the cadence of his voice wasn’t natural anymore. It sounded demonic. “I’m not particularly interested in killing women. But it’s not above me,” he growled, making her whimper.

“Take this as your one and only warning. Leave town and never look back. Or else.” With that, he dropped her, causing her to crumple to the ground. She clutched her neck as she gasped for breath. A few tears spilled from her eyes before she looked up at his towering form. He stared back down at her nonchalantly, shoving his hands in his pockets. Slowly, his appearance became human again. “And don’t you ever fucking speak of Camille again.” Terry turned on his heel and walked toward the door. With a final glance over his shoulder, he opened it and stepped out, leaving her alone in the dimly lit space. The door clicked slammed behind him, sealing off any hope of reconciliation.

Stephanie sat there for a moment, her breath still shallow from the intensity of what had just transpired. The sharp sting in her neck still pulsed with a dull ache. But as her fingers gently traced the soreness at her throat, it was not fear that consumed her, nor panic or regret. It was something far more dangerous.

Lust.

It crept through her veins, slow and insidious, taking root deep inside her. It was as though the intensity of the moment, the raw power he had wielded, had lit a fire inside her she couldn't extinguish. She had always been attracted to Terry—his strength, his confidence, his unyielding control. But now, after everything that had happened, it was no longer just attraction. It was an obsession, a fierce craving that clawed at her insides.

Her body hummed with the aftershocks of his presence, the memory of his touch still lingering on her skin, and her mind raced with images of what could come next. He was perfect. He was everything she had ever desired—the right mix of danger, power, and passion. He was toxic in the most intoxicating way. She had spent her whole life chasing something like him, and now that she had found it, there was no way in hell she was letting him slip through her fingers.

A sly grin tugged at her lips as she straightened, a new sense of purpose settling over her. She would lie low for now, give him space. But that didn’t mean she was done. Far from it. She would wait, she would plan, and when the time was right, she would make her move.

Stephanie had no intention of giving up on Terry Richmond. Not now. Not ever.

-------

@nayaesworld @slvt4her @writingsbytee @notapradagurl7 @23jammy @kaylaahisthebestest- @theogbadbitch @wabi-sabi1090 @hotgyalaroad @nubiagurllll @lovedlover @dimepiece09 @lavaniiii @simplyzeeka @susanhill @next-bex-bet @sparklytemi @sonotlauryn @ranikyani @loveschrisbrown20 @daddyslittlevillain @blackchickinthedesert @sparklytemi @sonotlauryn @hello-therree @solunaseira @hotebonynearby @key05marie @moebuttta @winorlosetogether @nohatingpplbczhtingpplr @alexinmotion @queencb2462 @kismet83 @bruleecream @playingaymes

[noir-lullaby]

The Spotlight is Ours Pt. 1

Pairing: Aaron Pierre x Black Original Character

Summary: Two rising Black British stars in Hollywood. One fateful night at the NAACP Image Awards. When actress Sienna Sinclair presents the award for Outstanding Actor in a Limited Series, the winner is none other than Aaron Pierre. The chemistry is instant, the banter is effortless, and the connection? Dangerous. But in an industry where everyone is watching, some things are better left unsaid… or are they?

🔸 Warnings: Heavy flirtation, mutual pining, and the start of something messy. 🔸 Author’s Note: Welcome to the beginning of a very questionable love story.

The NAACP Image Awards were in full swing, a night dedicated to celebrating Black excellence in entertainment. The grandeur of the Pasadena Civic Auditorium was amplified by the shimmering gold and deep purple stage design, and the room was alive with applause, camera flashes, and the palpable energy of some of the biggest names in Hollywood.

Seated among the nominees, Aaron Pierre adjusted the cuffs of his custom black tuxedo, keeping his expression cool despite the slight thrum of anticipation in his chest. He had been nominated for Outstanding Actor in a Limited Television Series, Special, or Movie for his role in Rebel Ridge, a project that had tested his limits as an actor and elevated his career. Winning would be monumental, but he wasn’t the type to get ahead of himself.

As he sat waiting, his attention flickered to the stage where the next presenter was being introduced.

“Please welcome, the incredibly talented, Sienna Sinclair!”

Aaron’s brows lifted slightly as he watched Sienna Sinclair glide onto the stage, radiating effortless grace and confidence. He had heard of her, of course—the Oscar-winning British actress whose career had skyrocketed after her powerful performance in a historical drama. He had seen her on magazine covers, watched her interviews in passing, but seeing her in real life was… different.

Dressed in a form-fitting, midnight-blue gown, she exuded a kind of cool, magnetic energy. And then she spoke—her London accent cutting through the air, smooth yet commanding.

“Alright, alright. Let’s get to it,” she said, flashing a teasing smile as she opened the envelope. “The nominees for Outstanding Actor in a Limited Television Series, Special, or Movie are…”

Aaron barely heard the rest of the list. His focus was on her, the way she carried herself, how her presence seemed to pull attention like gravity.

Then—

“…and the NAACP Image Award goes to—” She paused, drawing out the suspense, her dark eyes flickering toward the camera with playful mischief.

“Aaron Pierre, for Rebel Ridge!”

The crowd erupted into applause.

Aaron blinked once before allowing a slow, satisfied smile to spread across his face. He stood, adjusting his suit with ease before making his way toward the stage, dap-ups and handshakes following him on the way.

When he reached the podium, he took the award from Sienna's hands, and for a brief moment, their fingers brushed. It was subtle, fleeting, but enough to make Aaron glance up and fully take her in.

Up close, she was even more stunning.

“Congratulations,” Sienna murmured, her voice just low enough for him to hear.

“Appreciate it,” Aaron replied smoothly, his deep voice wrapping around the word in a way that made Sienna’s lips twitch slightly.

Aaron turned toward the microphone, delivering a speech that was humble, thoughtful, and reflective of his journey. He spoke about the importance of storytelling, about the shared experiences of Black British and African-American actors carving out spaces in Hollywood, about how recognition like this was both an honor and a responsibility.

“I didn’t get here alone,” he finished, his rich voice sending a hush over the room. “To every young Black actor watching, to every kid dreaming beyond what they’ve been told is possible—we are the blueprint. And the best is still yet to come.”

Thunderous applause.

Sienna clapped alongside the audience before leaning into the mic. “And on top of all that… he’s also Mufasa.”

The crowd roared with laughter, and Aaron exhaled a quiet chuckle, shaking his head.

Sienna smirked at him. “Had to.”

Aaron gave her a look—amused, but also intrigued. “We’ll talk about this backstage.”

Sienna tilted her head, watching him as he walked off. “Looking forward to it.”

--

The post-win chaos was already unfolding backstage—cameras flashing, journalists waiting for quotes, production assistants ushering talent from one place to another. Aaron had barely had time to process the moment when he heard a familiar voice behind him.

“Well, well, look at you, Mr. Award Winner.”

Aaron turned.

Sienna Sinclair stood there, arms crossed, watching him with a smirk.

Aaron couldn’t help but let his gaze linger for half a second longer than necessary. “Didn’t expect to see you back here so soon.”

Sienna shrugged. “Had to personally congratulate you. You know, since I had the honor of saying your name on stage.”

Aaron nodded, a slow smirk tugging at his lips. “You did say it well. Very elegant.”

Sienna raised an eyebrow. “I do everything elegantly.”

Aaron exhaled a quiet chuckle. “Not doubting it.”

She tilted her head slightly. “So… how does it feel? Winning?”

Aaron glanced down at the trophy in his hand before looking back at her. “Feels good. But I won’t lie—hearing my name come out of your mouth might’ve been the highlight of the night.”

Sienna sucked her teeth, shaking her head, though there was something in her expression—something that said she wasn’t entirely unaffected by him.

“You’re full of it,” she teased.

Aaron leaned in slightly. “Am I?”

Sienna, ever the quick-witted one, smirked. “Yeah. And I can’t believe you let me call you out in front of everyone like that.”

Aaron shook his head. “The Mufasa jingle?”

Miracle nodded. “You knew I had to bring it up.”

Aaron narrowed his eyes playfully. “You enjoyed that way too much.”

“I did,” she admitted, her smirk widening. “And let’s be real, you love it. Don’t lie, you’ve sung it to yourself at least once.”

Aaron rubbed his jaw, his expression unreadable. “I’m not dignifying that with a response.”

Sienna laughed, tilting her head. “It’s alright, Aaron. Aaron Pierre, that’s Mufasa—it’s got a nice ring to it.”

Aaron exhaled a low chuckle, shaking his head. “You know, it’s unfair how much pleasure you’re getting out of this.”

“Oh, trust me, I could get pleasure out of a lot more than that.”

Aaron’s jaw tightened slightly, the air between them shifting from playful to something heavier.

Sienna’s eyes held his, dark and teasing. “But I’ll let you enjoy your win first.”

Aaron huffed a laugh, nodding. “So generous of you.”

She smirked. “You’re welcome.”

The moment stretched just a second longer than necessary—his gaze still locked with hers, her breath just a little deeper.

From across the backstage area, a production assistant called out to Sienna, signaling that she was needed elsewhere.

She exhaled, shaking her head as she took a step back. “Well, Mufasa, I’ll see you around.”

Aaron tilted his head slightly, watching as she turned and walked away, her presence lingering even after she disappeared from sight.

“Yeah,” he murmured to himself, a small smirk playing at the corner of his lips. “You will.”