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alldthoughtsinmyhead · 14 days ago

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Semper Fidelis Vol II

Note: My first story cont.✨ & Open to constructive criticism as always. This was supposed to be a short one shot but y'all hyped me up in the comments of the last one 🫣 so here's part two 🥂 Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Smut, Use of AAVE, n-word, Suspicions of Cheating Mentioned Work count: 7k <

Read Volume I

Andrea excused herself from the crowd, weaving her way through the party goers and gracefully accepting well wishes with a practiced smile. The weight of Mark’s whispered words sat heavy on her chest, like a sleep paralysis demon. She pinched the skin on her arm taut to make sure she was actually awake. She reached the edge of the room and pushed on the door to the balcony, it opened harder than she intended causing it to slam against the windows behind it, and the frigid air swished around her body. It felt like every molecule in her body was aflame, so she inhaled deeply, surrendering to the frosty sensation.

Mark’s words replayed over and over again in her mind, each repetition cutting deeper.

They’ve been fucking.

She shook her head, trying to dismiss it as drunken nonsense, but Mark had always been a reliable force in their lives. He was always one to push people's buttons and say the things others wouldn’t dare.

But this? The timing… This wasn’t just some vulgar joke or offhand comment. It felt too deliberate as if it was meant to hurt. She looked out over the fireworks crackling in the night sky, the colorful explosions reflecting in her eyes, but the joy they were meant to bring couldn’t penetrate the storm raging in her heart.

Behind her, the party carried on unaffected. Laughter and music filled the air as Terry’s hearty laugh rose above everyone else's bringing her attention back to him. He was surrounded by a small group of men, his broad shoulders shaking as he laughed with his whole body retelling some old story she’s sure he’s told a thousand times before. His charisma still holding his audience captive, as always.

She studied him from afar, taking note of the way he carries himself, so confident and relaxed.

The way his green eyes crinkled and damn near closed when he smiled.

The way he looked at her when he noticed her staring.

Was it love? Or was it guilt?

“Mrs. Richmond”

Andrea turned abruptly to find Colonel Amara Knight standing beside her, her expression soft but inquisitive.

“Colonel,” Andrea replied, forcing a smile.

“You looked like you needed a moment” Amara said while stepping closer, her tone low and conspiratorial.

“I noticed when you ran out of there… These big parties can be pretty overwhelming, but a little air always helps and this is a beautiful place to decompress..”

Andrea nodded and turned to look down on the city below, appreciating the excuse to step away before she forgot herself and pushed her husband's alleged mistress off the roof.

That was the only option.

Sure she could hold her own in a street fight, but she wasn’t confident she could stand a chance against all that jujitsu shit.

“You’re right. The view is breathtaking”

Amara smiled at Drea’s simple response, her eyes scanning the skyline and the chaos of the city below “Terry’s lucky, you know…” she started, “Not every Marine has someone like you holding down the fort at home and he couldn’t have made it this far without you. You’re the glue to keeping everything together, Andrea. Don’t ever forget that,” she stated matter of factly.

Andrea swallowed, her throat dry and glanced at her for a moment trying to determine her sincerity. Did she know? Did she hear Mark too? Was this all in her head?

She offered a tentative smile but before she could respond Terry’s voice boomed loudly from behind them

“Aye, there you go Drea!”

“You’re social battery doesn’t usually run out before mine, you okay?” Terry inquired, softening his voice and slipping his arm around his wife’s waist after he made his way to her. His touch was familiar and warm, but yet, it felt foreign in that moment. Andrea turned to him, his cheesy smile lighting up his whole face as Amara stepped back with an unreadable expression dissapearing into the crowd.

“I just needed a breather,” she sighed out, her shoulders slumping as she pushed all the air from her lungs

“Understandable.” Terry nodded “Great speech by the way, baby.”

“You always know how to make me look good” he added kissing her temple.

She half heartedly chuckled “You make it easy.”

Sensing something was wrong, Terry turned to face her so he could look into her eyes and take in her expression.

“You sure you straight?”

The question caught her off guard and she considered telling him what she heard and confronting him right then and there. But the party wasn’t the place. And she wasn’t quite sure she was ready to hear the answer.

“I’m fine,” she lied, offering a convincing and reassuring smile, “Just tired. It’s been such a long day.”

He nodded again, diving right into problem solving mode, “Well, why don’t we just sneak out early? We can go downstairs to just relax and let our guests continue to enjoy themselves.”

She hesitated, the thought of being alone with her own husband suddenly overwhelming “Maybe in a bit,” she shot back steadily. “I should mingle a bit more first.”

“Let me know when you’re ready love” Terry kissed her on the forehead and shimmied passed the crowd to take his place on the dance floor screaming “woah-woaohhhh- hooooo!” as ‘Before I let Go’ started blaring through the speakers.

When he blended in with the crowd, Andrea turned back to the skyline taking a deep breath as her decision started crystalizing. She needed answers. She’d let Terry enjoy his night. He worked hard and sacrificed so much to give them a comfortable life; but she wasn’t going to wait long to get them.

The sheer curtains hanging in their bedroom did little to block the morning sunlight beaming through their bedroom windows. A dull ache throbbing at her temples was a lingering reminder of all the champagne she drowned herself in the night before.

Beside her Terry snored lightly his heavy arm slung upward and draped over his forehead. He looked peaceful and unburdened, his face relaxed in a way she rarely saw and she envied him because her own mind felt anything but peaceful as Mark's words resurfaced like a bad dream.

They’ve been fucking.

Andrea’s phone buzzed on the nightstand beside her making the jewelry she discarded before crawling into bed last night clunk and rattle. She flipped it over and frowned, a text from Mark.

“We should talk. Call me.”

Her heart skipped a beat as she stared at the message. Knowing she couldn’t stay in denial and avoid these conversations forever she sat up slowly, careful not to disturb Terry and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. The cold from the hardwood floor under her bare feet made her wince, headache still pulsing in her skull. The chill cut through the fog from last night's alcohol and she slowly made her way to the bathroom in her strapless lace black bra and panty set. Pajamas weren't on the to-do list when they made it downstairs from their party. She reached for her baby pink silk robe to wrap around her and made sure to close the bathroom door softly, gently turning the lock. Going back to the text she received, she clicked on the contact photo, and pressed the call button. Mark answered almost immediately.

“Hey Drea”

“Mark” she replied steadily despite her stomach twisting in knots at the sound of his voice.

“What did you mean last night?”

There was a pause, and when he finally spoke his voice was low and serious “I think you already know...”

Andrea tightened her grip on the phone, the implication of Mark’s words resting heavy on her chest.

“I don’t know, Mark..” she said, her tone sharp, “That’s why I’m calling.. Stop with the fucking riddles and just tell me what’s going on!” She exhaled, her shaky breath, and then added more softly

“...please?”

“Look,” he began, “it’s not my place to get in the middle of this Dre... But you a good woman and you deserve to know the truth.”

“The truth about what?” she snapped back immediately

Another pause as Mark seemed to be weighing and calculating his next words.

“Terry and Amara.”

“What about them?” she whispered back

“It’s been going on for a while,” Mark admitted, “I didn’t want to believe it at first but… the signs are there.”

Andrea’s mind raced as she plopped down on her vanity stool to support herself before her knees gave out. She quickly thought back to every interaction she’d witnessed between Terry and Amara. The way they shared inside jokes, all the military lingo, the lingering glances she’d chalked up to professional camaraderie. Could she really be that blind?

“Do you have proof?” she asked, her voice tight.

Mark hesitated. “Well, Not exactly... But I’ve seen enough to put the pieces together. The way she grabs his arms and clings to him when you’re not around... Late nights at the base... Private conversations… I see the way they act when they think no one’s watching.”

At this point the room was spinning and her stomach was doing summersaults. Circumstantial evidence wasn’t enough, not for something this serious, something that could blow up her life when she just got her husband back full time.

“That’s not proof Mark, that’s speculation,” she gritted out trying her best to stay calm. She needed his help, talking to this man crazy was not the answer.

“Maybe,” he fired back “but I wouldn’t have said anything if I didn't think you deserved to know.”

She stood up and swallowed hard, an involuntary reaction to his unwelcome revelation as thoughts of the previous night flooded her mind, “Why now? Why would you tell me at his retirement party?"

She started pacing back and forth as she recalled the events from last night, "And like that?… why was I up there in front of all those people..”

“I was drunk,” Mark admitted, his tone laced with regret, “And I hate to see you in the dark when everyone else… knows.”

“Everyone else?”

Mark sighed. “I’m sorry, Dre. I didn’t mean for you to find out like this. But you need to talk to Terry. Or Amara.”

Andrea ended the call without another word. She couldn’t listen to this shit anymore. Not without concrete evidence.

She did everything right.

All those late nights alone when Terry was deployed and she could’ve been fucking their fine ass, heavy set, brown skin neighbor down the hall in apartment 1738 who always was a little too eager to help with groceries?

She stayed faithful.

She maintained frequent calls and dinner dates with her mother-in-law. She even took charge of his younger cousins, keeping them out of trouble and guiding them with patience. Every game she could attend during football season? She was there.

What the fuck?

The room tilted sideways, her stomach cramped like someone just punched her in the gut, and her mouth started to salivate uncontrollably. She dropped to her knees just in time. Her body heaved over the toilet as she vomited, everything inside her coming up in sharp, gut wrenching waves. Her body was sore and empty from expelling everything out of her stomach, but her mind was full and hosted an uncontrollable storm of disbelief and pain.

After cleaning herself up, she gently pulled the bathroom door open, careful not to wake her husband, and padded out of their bedroom and into the kitchen to the smell of leftover party food lingering in the air. She started the coffee maker, the whirring and bubbling sounds filling the otherwise quiet apartment.

Is this what it felt like to be in the twilight zone?

Still slightly drunk, a little sore physically, and confused? She couldn’t stop her mind from replaying events of the night before, dissecting every interaction.

Amara’s carefully neutral expressions. The way she backed away when Terry came outside to check on her. That fact that Terry didn't leave her alone with Amara long when he noticed them together. Marks slurred words. Terry’s affectionate kisses. Was everything a facade?

The sound of heavy footsteps broke her trance. She glanced over her shoulder to see Terry, shirtless and groggy, scratching the back of his neck as he approached.

“Morning,” he grunted sleepily.

“Morning,” Drea replied, forcing a small smile.

He reached above her grabbing two mugs to pour their coffee and pulled the creamer out of the fridge. She was so deep in thought she couldn’t even hear the last drops of coffee sputtering out from the machine.

“Hell of a party, huh? I don’t think I’ve been that drunk in years,” Terry laughed, handing her a mug three quarters of the way filled so she’d have room for her favorite cream and sugar.

“You deserved it. Everyone had a great time.”

“You were incredible last night, by the way baby. That speech? Perfect!” Terry took a sip of his coffee, closing his eyes slowly in content as the coffee worked its magic.

She watched him as he just sat there completely at ease? It was hard to believe Terry would be capable of anything suspicious when he looked so relaxed, so utterly free of concern. Like a man who’d just retired...

They fell into a silence that was comfortable for him, blissfully unaware of the confusion and doubt swirling within his wife.

It was at that moment she decided. This is it.

She decided right then and there to be done with Mark and his bullshit. In over 10 years, her husband never gave her a reason to doubt him and here she was driving herself crazy just because his drunk ass friend said so?

No.

Enough was enough.

A Week Later

The past week had been a delicate balancing act for Andrea. On the surface, life with Terry’s retirement was settling into a peaceful rhythm. For the first time in what felt like forever, they woke up together each morning, no more rushed goodbyes or hurried calls squeezed between drills or assignments.

Terry was home and Andrea was determined to savor every moment, but beneath the surface, as much as she tried to forget, Mark’s words lingered in her mind. A poisonous echo she refused to give life to. She hadn’t confronted Terry, nor had she read or replied to any of Mark’s follow up messages. Instead, she buried herself in creating a routine for their life together.

Mornings began with shared coffee on their balcony, the harbor stretching out before them like an ever changing painting. They laughed more often, rediscovering the rhythm of living in the same space. Andrea even convinced Terry to join her in pilates and yoga, an experience that had them dying of laughter as Terry struggled to maintain poses Andrea had mastered with ease.

Still in quiet moments when Terry wasn’t looking, Andrea found herself studying him, watching for cracks, signs, or anything that might confirm or deny the suspicions Mark had planted. She hated this new version of herself, self conscious, suspicious, and guarded. But she couldn’t shake the doubt.

Today, though, she was determined to push past it.

Today was about them.

Andrea stood in front of her closet, smoothing the soft fabric of a turtle neck dress she hadn’t worn in ages. Its cranberry hue complimented her warm brown skin, and the way it cinched at her waist gave her a boost of confidence. She paired it with simple gold hoops, target shark boot dupes, then checked her reflection in the mirror.

“Drea” Terry called from the living room, his voice carrying easily through their apartment “You almost ready to go to lunch? I’m starving over here!”

After clipping her cherry charm on her coach purse, Andrea grabbed it and stepped into the living room smiling. Terry’s eyes lit up when he saw her. He was wearing dark Levi’s jeans and a crisp black button down rolled up to his elbows, each cuff pressed with precision . His gold chain glistening subtly at his neck, catching just enough light to draw the eye.

“You look amazing,” he said, crossing the room to kiss her cheek.

“Thank you, Handsome” she replied softly, smoothing his shirt collar. “Ready to go?”

They took the short walk through the whipping wind to a bistro situated on the harbor, the warm sun heating their faces between gusts of frigid air. The restaurant was cozy, with open windows framing the water below, and the sound of soft jazz played over the hum of quiet conversations. Their table was dimly lit and tucked into a corner. Andrea sipped on a mimosa while Terry ordered a whiskey neat.

“To us,” Terry said, raising his glass. “And to finally have time to enjoy life together.”

Andrea clinked her glass to his, smiling even as a small knot of unease tightened in her chest. She took a long sip, the cool drink washing it away and calming her nerves. As their meals arrived, Terry reached across the table to take her hand.

“You’ve been a little quiet these past couple of days,” he said, his thumb rushing over her knuckles. “Is everything okay?”

Andrea hesitated, the question she’d been avoiding rising to the surface. Her instincts told her to retreat, to keep things light, but the weight of unspoken words between them was growing too heavy. Instead, she decided to share an honest truth about something else.

“I’ve been adjusting,” she admitted. “It’s… different, not being a military wife anymore. It feels like I’m learning how to be your partner all over again.”

Terry nodded, his expression thoughtful. “I can understand that. I’ve been adjusting too. It’s strange not having a mission to wake up to every day, but honestly, I’ve never been happier. You’re my mission now.”

The sincerity in his voice tugged at Andrea’s heart. She smiled, squeezing his hand. “I think we’re going to be just fine,” she said more to herself than to him.

“We got this baby,” he replied.

“Hey, later on tonight around dinner I told Amara she could stop by so I could look over her Q1 report. I wanted to give you a heads up.”

Andrea winced at the mention of Amara's name but quickly put on a smile, grateful that Terry’s attention was fixed on his plate and not on her.

“That’s fine, honey,” she said, her tone overly sweet to mask her irritation. “You trying to reenlist already?” Her attempt to tease him for missing work made him chuckle.

“No. Not at all,” he said, shoving a fry in his mouth and pausing to chew. “But we’ve been talking about this for a while now, and I think it’s time we really commit to it. You know?”

Andrea raised an eyebrow, a knowing and amused smirk curling on her lips. “And what’s that?”

Seeing Terry nervous was a rare sight, This man, her man, was the embodiment of quiet confidence. But in this moment, seeing him a little unsure made him less militant and more real, more human. She loved it.

“You know,” he murmured, tracing the rim of his glass with his long finger. “Having a baby.”

Andrea sat up a little straighter, a mixture of surprise and warmth settling in her chest as she watched him wrestle with his words.

“It’s just… I’ve been thinking about this a lot. Like, really thinking about it,” he continued, his voice growing more tentative. “And now that I’m home for good, I feel like we’re ready. It’s terrifying, but I know we can do this, Dre!” he said confidently. He paused and glanced up at the ceiling reflecting on his words.

“I mean, when I look at you, like really look at you, I can’t think of why we should wait any longer,” he said, his voice softer now as he clasped his hands together and fiddled with his fingers.

“You’re so compassionate, and strong, and you’ve been an amazing wife.. I can’t imagine how amazing you’ll be as a mom. But… It's a big step. I just want to make sure we’re both ready for this. I know you’ve been working from home, but it might still be a lot with the baby crying all night, and trying to get them to calm down, and… well… you’d really be stuck with me forever after that.” He pursed his lips, cutting himself off mid rant.

He tried to stay quiet and listen to her response, but he couldn’t help himself, the words just kept spilling out. And Andrea listened intently, her smile growing he waved his hands around and continued yapping away.

“I’ll recon when we get home… logistically, it’s a lot of groundwork to cover. We’ll need to baby-proof the house, right? Like all the outlets… And I read something about crib safety… Aww man, and there are so many different types of cribs. And then the sleep schedules? Oh shit, the sleep schedules, don’t even get me started on that... We might not sleep for years if we don’t figure that out. Have you heard about sleep training, baby? Some people swear it’s bullshit, but others-”

“Terry” Andrea interrupted with a laugh, unable to hold it in any longer.

He froze, his ocean blue eyes widening as it set in how much he’d been rambling non-stop.

“Sorry… It’s just a lot to think about, you know?”

“I know,” Andrea said with a teasing smile “Look at you, all.. flustered.”

“I am not flustered,” he says with a raised eyebrow now trying to play it cool like he wasn’t just about to lose his mind over the number of crib manufacturers.

“Yeah, you are, and you’ve really thought about this Terry. Probably more than I have, actually.” She says letting out a small laugh.

“You’re really worked up, huh? I thought I would be the one freaking out but look at you, baby! I can’t believe it,” she teased.

There was a softness in Andrea’s voice as she teased him, but underneath it was still a deep affection. She was used to Terry’s steady control, the way he carried the world on his shoulders without flinching. But in this moment, she saw the crack in his armor, and it made him even more real to her. He was truly home for good and the reminder of their new reality and what their future had in store was unexpectedly endearing. Her smirk faded, the desire to tease replaced by something tender, something that pulled her closer. Love. In these small, unguarded moments, when he was a little unsure, she loved him even more. She leaned in and kissed his cheek, her heart swelling.

“Alright, now..” Terry responded, trying to stifle a smile, “I guess I just.. I want to make sure we’re on the same page and doing this for the right reasons, you know? And I just keep thinking, what if we-”

“Terry,” Andrea interrupted, cutting him off with a gentle smile

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”

He scrunched his brows, processing her words slowly.

“Wait… what?”

“I said yes, Terry. Yes, we can start trying for a baby.” her tone was light, still amused by how flustered he was.

A deep breath escaped him, one he probably didn’t even realize he was holding. His face softened, and his voice quieted, the relief evident in his words.

“I just wanted to make sure-" he started, but then stopped himself. His face softening as he finally looked at her.

Quietly and laced with gratitude he said, "Thank you."

"For saying yes," he clarified simply.

Andrea reached up to gently cup his face and pressed a sweet kiss to his lips. “Of course,” she assured, her voice soft and certain.

“I’m ready for this, Terry. We’re ready.”

As they continued their meal, Andrea allowed herself to fully relax, leaning into the warmth of the moment. For the first time all week, she felt like she could breathe. They lingered at the table long after their plates were cleared, sharing stories, laughing, and stealing small touches. By the time they left the restaurant, Andrea felt lighter, convinced that the life she dreamed of with Terry was not only still within reach, but on it's way to becoming a reality. As they walked back to their apartment, hand in hand, the weight of their discussion settled softly between them, unspoken but understood. She looked up at him as he held the door for her to enter their building, and in that moment, everything felt right.

Terry leaned against the door frame of their bedroom, arms lightly crossed, with a small smile playing on his lips as he watched his wife sit on the bed, pulling the zipper of her boots down.

Retirement meant he didn’t have to rush to bed, worry about the next mission, checking in with superiors, or making sure the squad had all their gear prepared.

The absence of all pressure was both relieving and unsettling because for the first time since high school he could take a breath without the weight of his unit, his family, his country, and the world on his chest. Andrea had always been the rock in their relationship while he was away, but now, Terry could feel that she was learning how to navigate this shift in their dynamic as well.

The soft orange glow of the afternoon sun illuminated their bedroom highlighting her every move. She slipped off one boot, then the other, and Terry felt an undeniable urge to help.

“Need a hand?” he asked, his voice low as he approached slowly closing the space between them.

Drea looked up through lashes, a playful gleam in her eyes “Of course.”

“Come here and turn around”

She stood up and walked toward him. Following his command and turned her back to his chest so he could unzip her dress revealing her new red satin fenty set.

His voice was a low growl, his eyes heavy and glazed with desire. “This for me?” he asked.

She didn’t answer with words, but instead nodded, her lips twitching as she fought to hold back a smirk.

His hands found their way to her waist, pulling her closer. He wanted her in every sense. But more than that, this was now a mission, he wanted her to be the mother of his children, and to build a life together that was deeper than just the two of them.

Andrea’s fingers slid down his neck, her touch soft but possessive, as if she too could feel the responsibility of the commitment they decided to make, the commitment to create something more. Terry couldn’t imagine anything more beautiful than that and the desire to take care of her while she carried his babies sent shivers down his spine.

“Terry, are you sure about this?” she whispered, her voice was low but steady and he felt the weight of her question.

“I’m sure,” he breathed out, his words thick with emotion. He leaned closer, his lips brushing against hers.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

Terry sat back, a quiet smile tugging at his lips as he looked at Andrea with feet set in place on either side of his hips and her hands planted firmly on his chest. His hands moved up and down her back in a steady soothing rhythm as she bounced up and down his shaft.

They’d been each other's first everything, first kiss, first love, first time. They’d explored one another’s bodies so many times it felt like they knew each other inside and out, every scar, every curve, every mole. He knew if she wanted to she could make him bust in seconds, and all he had to do was give her “that look” and she’d be gone off into the stratosphere.

But something about this time, intentionally trying to conceive, felt completely different.

It was like they were 16 and starting all over again. Every movement and touch was mesmerizing, like they were discovering something they’d long since memorized. The softness of her skin under his calloused palms rooted him in the moment, where every little thing felt significant.

There was no rushing. As the sun dipped lower, its fading light reflected off her nipple piercings, casting a soft red and pink glow.

Terry gripped her ass and quickly flipped them over, a little faster than intended, earning a soft giggle from Andrea.

She looked up at him, her eyes sparkling with lust and affection, before pressing a light kiss to his chest, right over his heart.

“I love you,” she whispered

“I love you,” he murmured against her neck, his voice low and sincere. “..so much, Dre.”

Using one hand to support his weight and the other gripping her waist he rolled his hips slowly, sinking deeper with each thrust. The sound of her slickness filled the air and with each plunge into her sex, he could feel his tip gliding against her cervix. Drea's moans grew louder, raw and throaty, as if they were coming from somewhere deep within her soul. Terry's focus was unwavering, driven by a single obsessive intent, to breed her and make her his in every way possible. He felt that familiar sensation building deep in his stomach, a warmth spreading quickly through his entire body.

"Baby..." he cooed, placing soft kisses along her shoulder.

She moaned softly, her legs tightening around him, but she didn't speak, her eyes still shut as she lost herself in the moment.

“Andrea.. Look at me now” he said more sternly.

When her eyes finally blinked open, he gently asked “Are you sure you want this?”

“Yes Daddy!” she shouted, her voice strained as she answered without hesitation.

His rhythm faltered, something about that word ignited a spark in him. Something primal.

“Daddy, huh?” he said, his voice a little rougher than intended “I didn’t know Daddy sounded so good on me.”

“Oh, it sounds perfect on you” she breathed out

“Yeah? Ok, mama…”

“Yes!” she cried out in pleasure, “Let’s make a baby, Daddy”

Those words were all it took, and Terry released what felt like the heaviest load in the deepest part of her pussy. With every stroke, his love for her seemed to intensify, and they came together gazing at each other through the haze of passion driven intoxication.

With their bodies tangled together, surrounded by disarrayed pillows and damp sheets, he basked in the pure feeling of satisfaction and contentment. They stayed that way for a moment, neither moving, just listening to the sound of each other's breathing and racing heartbeats, until Drea gently tapped at his butt cheek, signaling him to roll over.

“I’ve been doing some research…” Terry mumbled while intentionally keeping his pelvis aligned with hers so he didn’t slip out of her wet folds, gently flipping them over so she could be on top.

“I read something about how I should stay inside you for a bit after to increase our chances…” he said closing his eyes lazy clearly still sensitive to her touch

“Oh yeah?” Drea chucked as she straddled him. His hands instinctively went to her hips as she teasingly rocked back and forth slowly up and down his shaft, tracing patterns on his chest, and savoring the quiet aftermath of their decision. Her soft moans filled the space around them and as he laid there, Terry couldn’t help but think that this was just the beginning. A new chapter starting for the both of them.

He opened his eyes, gently placed his hand on her stomach, and started rubbing small circles. “Hey baby,” he whispered with a grin

She burst into laughter, unable to hold it in. “We’re probably gonna need to try more than once, baby.”

“We can try,” he said, tickling her sides for emphasis, “...whenever you want, baby. But I got that super sperm. He’s in there. I know it.” He said, pressing his lips and giving her a confident nod.

“He!? Oh my God, Terry, please just stop!” she laughed, nearly out of breath from her fit of giggles

His watch beeped alerting him that it was the top of the hour. “Matter fact, I need to make sure he in there good, let me see something…” Using his hand to brace the back of her neck he flipped them over once again laying Andrea down on her back.

"I got a meeting in a hour. Now that my first procreation tour is complete..." Terry said, his voice trailing off "...It's playtime.

"Let's see how fast I can make you cum again." he added with a mischievous grin

He pulled out, sat up on his knees, and leaned back for a better view. She could feel the cooling sweat from his thighs dripping down the back of her legs; Everything was sticky and from this angle he could see all his precious potential babies getting ready to slide out of her and onto the mattress.

Gravity was a bitch.

Using the head of his dick, he scooped up what he could and slid back into her, mixing her cream with his seed as he pumped in and out. Terry was determined; they were making a baby today.

He studied every feature on her face as she moaned in pleasure, like he was seeing her for the first time, she was beyond beautiful. Truly. Inside and out. This new phase of their life was the beginning of something so sweet he thought. So many new adventures they had to look forward to without the daily stress and worry that he might not make it home.

He couldn’t help but wonder which traits their little bundle of joy would inherit from their mother. He wanted his son to look just like her. He used his right hand to push her thigh to her chest and his left thumb to circle her clit, using any of their cum that did manage to seep out as natural lubricant. Terry's gaze was focused on her lips, he locked in on the subtle difference her top lip slightly darker than the bottom a feature he always admired. Andrea bit her bottom lip, arching her back as her eyes squeezed shut. That's when he heard a soft word echo across the room.

“Oh”

He blinked, confused. Then knitted his brows together. He knows he heard it. Clear as day, but her lips didn’t move. Terry knew he gave good dick. But telepathy? This was next level shit right here.

Andrea continued nibbling on her bottom lip, her breath coming in shallow gasps and he started drilling inside her steadily.

That’s when Terry noticed her out of the corner of his eye. Amara hovered in the doorway watching like she was trying to memorize every detail, her eyes wide and her mouth slightly agape. A quiet realization hit him. She's the one who spoke.

His curiosity peaked as he wondered how long she’d been standing there watching them. His gaze drifted to her feet, her crisp white shoes giving away the otherwise dark silhouette. His eyes slowly traveled upward as he took in her figure from the ground up. When his eyes reached her face, they locked with hers for a moment while he continued rolling his hips and thrusting in and out and in…

“fuuuccckkk” he exhaled, his eyes fluttering shut as he threw his head back in sheer ecstasy when Andrea clenched around him.

She was nearing her next orgasm and completely unaware of her husband’s work wife standing in the threshold of their bedroom staring. When he opened his eyes Amara was still locked in place observing, it was odd the way she watched them with unnerving focus, it was more strange that his dick was still hard and he couldn’t bring himself to pull out.

When their eyes met once again, Amara dropped her phone and the 3 ring binder she was holding. It smacked the floor with a loud slap. Opening her eyes wide with shock, Andrea’s head snapped toward noise. Shows over.

“OH MY GOD!”

Drea jolted up using all the strength in her core to force herself into a forward crunch so she could straddle Terry’s hips. She locked her arms around his waist and buried her face in Terry’s neck; he twitched involuntarily inside her. There was no way there were finishing this round but he didn't want to stop, he still felt her throbbing around his member and her warm breath heating his neck. Damn.

“Sorry! Shit- Sorry!” Amara stammered, looking at her feet now, clearly flustered.

She crouched down awkwardly to grab the binder, fumbling with her phone on the floor unable to pick it up on the first try. Terry stayed on his knees holding Drea close to his chest and felt around for a sheet to wrap around them.

“You gotta be fuckin kidding me,” Drea mumbled out against his neck.

When Amara finally got a grip on her phone she dashed out the room, pulling on the door handle to get it to close, and disappeared quickly down the hallway like she needed to talk to a man about a horse.

Once the door slammed shut Andrea looked at him, still processing what had just happened, her face red and eyes narrowed. Terry removed the blanket and placed his hand on her back to lower her down on the bed. He pulled himself gently out of her and gravity was back at it again. What a waste.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, “I didn’t expect that.”

The bed shifted below from Andrea standing up “I’ll.. uh… I’ll be in the bathroom,” she said with a nod toward the shower.

There was no masking the confused expression on her face as she slowly walked away. Terry wasn’t sure how to feel. He was relieved that Andrea hadn’t said anything more, especially with Amara still in their home, but he could sense the tension building in her too. That didn’t sit right with him. Annoyed by the interruption, the difficult conversation he’d need to have with Drea, and the work waiting for him with Mara, he swung his legs off the bed and grabbed his Levi’s and wife beater from the floor. After dressing quickly, he made his way to the living room to go over Amara’s report. He wanted to get it done as fast as possible.

As he approached the common area he stopped by the kitchen to wash his hands at the sink, it was probably best not to get sweat and cum all over official government documentation. He could see Amara sitting on the couch fiddling and organizing papers that must’ve jumped out of place when her binder fell.

“Sorry you had to see all that” he yelled out from behind the island.

“I was kinda expecting you to knock,” he said with a soft chuckle trying to make light of the awkward situation as he grabbed a paper towel to dry his hands.

She didn’t respond immediately, once she had everything sorted back into place and snapped the rings of the binder closed, she stood up.

“Why the fuck would you ask me to come here Terry!?” she spat venomously.

Terry paused, his face momentarily blank as he processed what she’d just said. Then, as if a switch had flipped, his expression darkened, and his handsome features contorted into a fierce scowl.

Menacing.

Lethal.

If looks could kill she’d be on her way to the morgue.

“Why the are you talking to me like you just caught me cheating on you Amara?” He whispered back harshly, lowering his neck so he could look her directly in her eyes.

Just as she opened her mouth to speak, he kept going “I was with my wife, you here early as shit might I add, and you just let yourself in like you own the place? Huh? That key was supposed to be for emergencies only Amara, I mean what’s good with you my nigga!?"

Before she could respond, he pressed on with a very important question,

"Who. The. Fuck. Are. You. Talking. To!?” he gritted out, his voice growing louder with each word.

Retirement had already started to chip away at his legendary composure and unwavering demeanor. Pleasantries were gone. Pokerface be damned. He was beyond pissed and she knew it. To avert his gaze and his sharp arched eyebrow, she dropped her head and stared at her hands taking a deep breath before replying.

“I know she’s your real wife, Terry. But I miss you!" she whined.

"I asked for your help on this report but I thought..” She trailed off ‘..I thought since you have all this free time now that you’re retired that you might want to spend some of it with me.”

“Mara, what are you-”

“Actually, I’m going to go,” she interrupted. “This was silly and I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt and I definitely didn't realize you’d be 'that' busy if I came by early.”

Amara didn’t wait for a response. She picked up her things, turned on the heels of her crisp AF1s and walked out, leaving Terry standing in the middle of the room.

From the shower Andrea watched their exchange unfold on her phone from their security camera as the hot water trickled down her body. It was as if Amara’s words hung in the air like smoke. Terry stood there motionless, staring at the door as she walked out. When the door clicked shut behind her, he let out a long sigh and plopped down on the couch holding his head in his hands. Through the screen her eyes stayed locked on him and she observed him using his flattened palms to run his hands forward over his little waves, focusing on the rhythm to ground himself.

Her hands trembled as she clicked her phone shut, she was right back to where she was the night of the party. Scared, uncertain, and questioning everything. Those words echoing again in her thoughts:

They’ve been fucking.

She had successfully buried everything Mark said deep, she trusted Terry, she believed in him. But now? The air was once again filled with doubt.

“This shit not normal," she muttered to herself.

She could feel the weight of what she’d just seen settle in. Drea couldn’t keep pretending her feelings of doubt weren’t there no matter how much she wanted to have faith in Terry. So, this was just the start. If she wanted the truth, she’d have to dig deeper. And this time, she wouldn’t stop until she found it.

A/N: This was my first attempt at a little smut scene. Imma need my OG writing girlies out there to host a masterclass because I'd like to register asaptually! I think I got one last chapter in the chamber to finish this one out. K. Thanks. Byeeeeee 🏃🏾‍♀️💨

tags: @alldthoughtsinmyhead @blackpinup22 @ticalsstallion @enchantedillumination @j0joworld @blackerthings @novahreign @onherereading @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @ashanti-notthesinger @kumkaniudaku @idyllicbarb @alonahh @ovohanna24 @skvrpion @fakxmbj @kindofaintrovert @notapradagurl7 @zillasvilla @hotmessexxpress @secretlifeoofmarpessa @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @nayaesworld @solunaseira @persethegawd @liquorlaughslove

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alldthoughtsinmyhead · 25 days ago

Text

Nia dumped the laundry onto a low rock, the pile of clothes tumbling in a heap. The stream beside her sparkled in the sunlight, its cool waters tempting her to take a dip, but she resisted. There was work to be done first. Her clothes, including the simple shift she wore, needed to be washed, and only when they were spread out to dry in the sun would she allow herself a break.

She picked up a bar of soap and began scrubbing the fabric. As her hands worked, her thoughts drifted back to the last time she saw her king. It had been two months ago when he came to check that she wasn’t scouting the western area as he had instructed her father.

While Nia had appreciated the king's concern for her safety, a part of her felt frustrated. She owed it to her people to help protect them, and sitting idle felt wrong. She longed to be out there, doing her part, being his eyes in the air. She had trained beside her brother since she was a child, learning the skills of survival, combat, and strategy. Hiding or cowering was never in her nature.

A sharp whoosh sliced through the air, too fast for her to fully react. Her mind, overloaded with worry and anxiety, slowed her movements, and she only managed to turn partway before the strike hit.

A searing pain exploded just above her left shoulder, and blood immediately began to seep from the wound. The roar of her blood pounding in her ears spurred her into action, forcing her to her feet despite the agony. Her left wing—her lifeline—was struck. The possibility of shifting forms was lost to her now; she could barely focus on the pain, only on one thing: survival.

She cursed under her breath, her heart pounding as her body screamed for her to move. Escape. Get away before whoever did this could close in for the kill.

Her vision blurred, and her legs faltered as she ran, the growing heaviness in her eyes making it harder to focus. Something was terribly wrong. She hadn't lost enough blood to be this weak. One word struck her mind like a lightning bolt: Poison.

She cursed under her breath as her body began to give way. As she collapsed, her eyes barely open, a dark arm shot toward her, and she was suddenly lifted against a solid, unyielding chest. With the last of her strength, she forced her head up, her vision swimming as she tried to make sense of what was happening. Just before her eyes closed completely, she caught a glimpse of golden eyes staring down at her.

Darius.

***

The savory scent of roasted fish drifted into her senses, pulling Nia from the depths of her restless sleep. The warmth of a thick fur blanket cocooned her, a stark contrast to the cold terror of her fading consciousness. Slowly, she blinked her eyes open, her head still fuzzy from the poison but grateful, at least, that she was alive. As her surroundings came into focus, she realized she was lying in the corner of a cave.

Near the entrance, sitting close to the fire, was a large figure—so large he nearly blocked the entire entrance. The flickering flames reflected in his eyes, glowing with a fierce intensity that matched the fire itself. His face was set in an unreadable, unyielding line. Nia had never heard him speak unless absolutely necessary, and she had never spoken to him unless forced to.

Confusion tightened around her chest. Had Darius taken her? Had he poisoned her? The thought sent a chill down her spine. She glanced down at her left shoulder, where the wound from the arrow had been treated. The arrow was gone, and the wound had been cleaned. The poison had slowed her but hadn't killed her. Nia wondered if that was by design or if she was just lucky. Either way, there was no reason to leave the arrow in anymore.

Her mind raced, trying to make sense of the past events. She sat up slowly, willing her pounding head to stop.

"Thank you." She tried, unsure that he could hear her, she couldn't hear herself over the drumming in her head.

He looked up at her and grunted. As her head cleared some more she realized that the blanket was the only thing covering her. She searched herself for the telltale sign of being used and found none--he hadn't forced himself on her in her sleep.

That calmed her somewhat but she still couldn't determine what it was he wanted and how they both came to be here. A flicker of hope lit up in her chest, did Aaron send him? As soon as the thought came, it died. Aaron wouldn't know where she was at the time... except he put a shadow on her. She groaned inwardly. It had been too long since she saw him, she didn't know what was going on. No one would talk to her, not even her brother.

"Did Aa- Did the King send you?" She spoke softly. If she was to be at his mercy she didn't want to risk angering him by being rude.

He ignored her.

A frustration simmered beneath her calm exterior. Nia cleared her throat, louder this time, before trying again, her tone firmer but still respectful. “Darius, you have to talk to me. I’m grateful that I’m alive, but I need answers. What am I doing here, with you?”

The fire crackled, the only sound between them, and she waited, heart pounding with anticipation.

He suddenly rose up and stalked steadily towards her. Nia watched with wide eyes as he knelt in front of her, squealing when he reached out and grabbed the fur blanket, her only piece of clothing. Her fingers clutched the blanket shut in front of her, unwilling to let go.

"I have to check your wound, and make sure it isn't infected." His voice reminded Nia of waves smashing against the rocks. It was oddly soothing. She shook her head. It's been too long since Aaron touched her, her body was starting to react to having a somewhat familiar man in close proximity.

She shook her head again. No way she was thinking of sex when she'd yet to know if this boulder of a man was a friend or foe. But then again, if she was alive and being cared for perhaps she could keep things that way till she regained enough strength to escape. She dropped her hands from the fur and watched as he uncovered only her shoulder.

His rough large hands were gentle against her skin as he felt around the wound. Having such a large man bent over her was starting to really mess with her head and she let out a small whimper startling both herself and Darius.

Darius hesitated for a moment at the sound, then quickly wrapped her back up before stepping away. Nia noticed his actions, raising an eyebrow as she silently observed his retreating figure. She tightened her grip on the blanket, then inched toward the fire, her hunger hitting her all at once as she reached for a stick of fish.

***

"I can't find her." A lone voice spoke from the shadows in Aaron's throne room.

He had sent his best hunter after her. There wasn't a thing in existence Avarick couldn't find. Nia was part bird, and birds were experts at covering their tracks, able to take to the air at any moment. But Avarick wasn’t ordinary either. There wasn’t a thing in existence he couldn't find... yet.

"I'll keep searching." Avarick offered in a softer voice that made Aaron smile.

"I'd appreciate that, Avarick. Please be subtle, and be safe. I cannot lose you to whatever or whoever this is."

A soft rustle of the curtains signaled Avarick’s departure. Aaron let out a heavy sigh, rubbing his palm across his face. The tingling sensation in his subconscious grew stronger, the prickling sense of something slipping through his fingers. His thoughts swirled around Nia’s disappearance, unsettling in its precision. She had vanished too suddenly, too carefully.

His mind drifted to the last conversation he’d had with her. She had taken his words well even though he knew they were against her strong warrior nature. She’d gone out alone before, but he had made it clear she was not to put herself in harm's way. The unease in his gut gnawed harder.

He turned to pace, running his hand over his low-cut hair. This didn’t feel like a random encounter. There was a quiet deliberation to it. Nia was never one to vanish without a trace, especially after his orders. A brief memory of his reaction to her assignment in court flashed into his mind but he dismissed it. He trusted everyone in his council, they would never scheme to hurt him. His fingers tightened into fists.

I should have been there.

He’d been too tied up at court, dealing with politics, matters that had nothing to do with his most pressing concern. Reigning in his hunger for her hadn’t been easy, but it had been necessary. It certainly helped that discipline came naturally to him.

The thought of Nia being out there, alone and vulnerable, gnawed at him. It was a weakness he couldn’t afford, and yet he couldn't shake it. His chest tightened. What if she were caught in a trap? What if someone had learned to anticipate his every move?

A sharp rap on the door broke through his spiraling thoughts, pulling him back to the present. He regained his regal composure just in time as the door swung open. Milele walked in, dressed in a black chiffon dress with gold trimmings that complimented her honey-colored skin. Her large innocent eyes twinkled as she smiled at him, immediately soothing the turbulence in his mind and forcing a smile to his face in return.

"Your excellency..." she did a deep courtesy.

Aaron’s lips curled into a short, amused laugh. "What?!" he barked. "What sort of greeting is that?"

Milele grinned mischievously and took a step closer, lowering her voice in a playful whisper. "You know, you're excellent at everything you do..."

Aaron's brows shot up at the suggestive way she drawled the word do. His head tilted down, looking at her from the top of his eyes in a comically judgy way. It made her giggle, and for a brief moment, the weight of his thoughts lifted.

"I came to invite you to lunch," she choked out between giggles.

"Lunch? You want to eat with me? Should I be afraid?"

Milele erupted in fresh laughter, a snort slipping out, which made Aaron chuckle too. Her humor was infectious, and it lightened his heavy mood.

She held out her hand, and without thinking, he took it, following her out of the throne room toward the dining hall.

The table had already been set. Milele gracefully took a seat at his right hand, while he settled at the head of the table. The hall was empty, save for a few servants standing by, ready to serve the royal couple.

A servant moved to uncover a large stainless-steel bowl in front of Aaron, but he waved them off before they could touch it.

He smirked at Milele as he started opening his plate, "I think I can open my own plate, I don't need—"

The words died in his throat as his eyes fell on what was placed before him.

A single item delicately arranged on the wide ceramic plate: A necklace of pearls and feathers.

#aaron pierre #romance #pierre #writers and poets #writers on tumblr #novella #fantasy #creative writing #intimacy #affection #desire #couple goals #medieval #medieval fantasy

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