#BLACK FAN FICTION

[thecapodomme]

Megan Thee Stallion- via instagram Oct 15th, 2024

She keeps tellin' us she's gay and she ain't playin omffffgggah...

She's needs to take it out... SHE'S STRETCHING ME! 😫

Stud Megan Fics PLEEEEEASE!

@notapradagurl7 and @henneseyhoe im lookin at yall ✨✨✨

[blacksapphhicmaddonna]

@blacksapphhicmaddonna x @mybonafidefeelings

coming soon. coming soon. coming soon. coming soon.

A BSM & MBF COLLAB? We are so back.

Hi gays! Me and the incomparable @mybonafidefeelings felt like having a little fun and challenging ourselves to write more. So welcome to Black Sapphic Summer, where we'll be doing multiple writing challenges! (Or is this a soft launch of something else? Maybe.)

Here's how this works!

One of us writes the first 1000-3000 words of a story featuring at least ONE character played by Lashana Lynch from our repertoires/previous works (BSM / MBF) - chosen by one of us as a random number from a list of characters. Then the ship is chosen from a similar list. There are currently no constraints on what themes (angst, fluff etc.) can be used. Neither of us see the lists the other person has or the writing until it's posted, to ensure that it's random each time. Simply put: we write it, post it, and the other reblogs it with the next 1000-3000 words and so on until we see fit. It's going to be a great, gay time!

Disclaimers:

- As always, all main characters are BLACK and all content is written by gender expansive BLACK SAPPHICS. - We do not, under any circumstances, give consent for our works (collective or individual) to be used to train AI, copied or stolen. If you have any questions, please reach out to either of us. - We appreciate every like, comment and reblog more than you know!!!! Please let us know how you feel about what we write!!!!! - This is definitely a soft launch for something we're really excited about. As for now, here's our addition to what I like to call Black Sapphic Summer! (Feel free to use the saying! Just make sure to tag your works with it! #BlackSapphicSummer)

See you soon. x

[bewhoeveriwannabe]

Messy Bestie

Addison and Ashley have been best friends since pre-k. They were inseparable. There was never a time Addison was seen without Ashley. They were more than best friends; in fact, they were like sisters. When you saw them together, it was as if they were only one person.  They’ve lived next door to one another since birth. Their parents went on summer vacations together. One time, Addison’s dad wrote a recommendation letter for Ashely’s dad to work in the city at the mayor’s office. He saved their family from losing their home to the bank.

Addison’s dad, Austin was the sheriff of the town. He was very well respected. No one committed any crimes in the rural area thanks to her dad. He’s solved every crime that has ever been committed. The community admired him. Her mom, Lisa was more admirable than Austin. She owned the only women’s boutique. The nearest clothing store was Walmart unless you drove about 200 miles to the mall down the highway. Every woman within the 100-mile distance visited Lisa’s store. She knows every woman from each town from the west to the east and south to the north. One year she threw a birthday party and every convenience store, gas station, restaurant, and grocery store closed in town. It was as if her birthday was a holiday.

Addison’s parents were the power couple with their beautiful daughter who was sweet as could be. Everyone in the middle school Addison attended looked up to her. All the girls and guys would stop and stare whenever she walked past. One time, Kristy was being bullied for wearing a pair of Chuck Taylor sneakers. Everyone laughed at her and called her poor. Addison went home and told her parents what Kristy was going through before asking them to buy her a pair of Chuck Taylor sneakers also. When Addison walked into the school the next day, everyone’s jaws dropped. Addison has changed the perspective of Chuck Taylor for all eighth graders. After Christmas break, every kid in the eighth grade had a pair of Chuck Taylor sneakers thanks to Addison.

Everyone loved her, she was perfect. Even more perfect than Ashley, who would be in Addison’s shoes if Austin and Lisa never meet. Ashley admired Addison more than the other eighth graders as if they weren’t best friends. When Addison was away, Ashley would melt. One year, Addison went to visit her grandma out of town and rumors say Ashley didn’t shower the entire time she was away. She just sat in her room, hiding under the covers while she cried and shook from anxiety. One year, Addison dressed as Thing 1 while Ashley dressed as Thing 2. Everyone thought it was super weird. It was funny how they thought it wasn’t weird Addison dyed her hair pink and cut bangs in it then the next day at school, Ashley had done the same thing.

I’ve been in school with Addison and Ashley since pre-k also. I stay on the same block in our neighborhood. Everyone admired their friendship, but I thought it was toxic. It was scary how they were the same. They even began to look alike after we left elementary school. In the back of my head, I always thought the day their friendship ends Ashley would end the world along with it. Although they were best friends, it was obvious Ashley admired the friendship more. Sometimes Addison would say nasty things to Ashley, but Ashley would ignore it. “Ew, your breath smells like crap!” She’d scream over the lunch table so the entire cafeteria could hear, and everyone would laugh. One day, I asked Ashley why she allows Addison to be snobby towards her and she replied, “Because I love her silly!”

The prediction I had of their toxic friendship was true. I knew that the end would be near once the inseparable duo broke ties the summer before we began high school. I never knew what the reason was, but my mind allowed me to think it was Ashley’s obsession with her bestie. Rumors are Ashley’s mom doesn’t know she and Addison aren’t friends anymore. She lies to her mom and tells made-up stories about ‘a joke Addison told today’ or Addison’s awesome cheerleading performance at the football game, although she watched from the top of the bleachers all alone. Some say she lied to her mom because she betrayed a great friendship. Others think she lies because she’s delusional and doesn’t notice her bestie isn’t exactly her bestie anymore. But I think it’s because Ashley wanted to live in Addison’s skin.

Ashley no longer stood in Addison’s shadow; she did everything alone now. Her hair was never styled, she wore a ponytail the entire school year which wasn’t her usual. As Dressing fashionably for class was no longer a priority, she wore baggy jeans and big sweatshirts. All the friends she had when we were in eighth grade, no longer spoke to her since Addison didn’t speak to her. She walked around school like a zombie. With big and slow steps, I could feel the pain of emotion in each one she took. Although Ashley and I didn’t speak much, I felt for her. I’ve seen how bright she could be since we were five years old. She has let herself go and if “give up” was a person, it would, unfortunately, be Ashley.

I sat with Ashley every day during our lunch period. I couldn’t stand to watch the stares and glances she received. I thought if maybe just one person joined her, she wouldn’t look like an outcast. Although we sat together, we never spoke. She just keeps her head down while she eats snacks from the vending machine. I only see the top of her head. She never looks me in the face. Every day I give myself a pep talk before lunch to speak to her. “Hey Ashley, how are you?” I would practice under my breath. I’d be crazy to ask her that, I can see how she’s doing. I want to ask her why Addison cut ties of their friendship, but I know that’s not my place. I know why I haven’t said anything to her, but I’m not sure why she doesn’t speak to me. Maybe she thinks I’m the weird one for not speaking. She may not say anything to me, but I know she appreciates me sitting with her.

I looked around the lunchroom and saw Addison sitting with her usual group of friends most would call ‘popular’. Addison didn’t have one bestie anymore; she had an entire clique. They followed everything she did. They were sort of her pets. They stood outside the bathroom door until she finished her business. I even heard they do all her homework and assignments in class. I watched her as she laughed and joked at the lunch table. Her dark hair fell to her waist with highlights of pink and blue extensions. Her crop top shirt showed off her awesome cheerleader abs and body. Her smile was gorgeous, especially when she showed her bright pearly white teeth. Everyone loved Addison at our old middle school the year before, but now we’re in high school she has even more power than before. There’s triple the number of guys and girls to drool over her.

After lunch is 4th period, US History class. I sat in the back of the room as I waited for class to begin. I’m usually always the first one here while others take their time getting back from lunch. I was shocked to see Ashley early also. Every class she’s late, sometimes she doesn’t come at all. If my perfect ex-best friend was in the same class as me, I probably would skip too. I watched her as she grabbed a bottle of liquid out of her bag and napkins. She took her normal big and slow steps as she walked toward Addison’s assigned seat. I felt a panic fall upon me as she held the bottle upside down it dripped onto the desk. What is she doing? I was afraid. I knew Ashley wasn’t her old self and I was scared. The old Ashley wouldn’t hurt a fly. But the new Ashley, I wouldn’t underestimate her. She then took the napkins and wiped the substance off before sitting down.

As usual, she never looked at me. But she knew I saw. What has she done? Should I let an adult know? I was terrified. Ashley has turned into an entirely different person, and it seemed I didn’t know her anymore. What if it’s poison and she wants to murder Addison? My entire body was tense. My hands began to sweat, and my legs couldn’t stop shaking. I never felt fear before as I did now.

I jumped as the school bell rang and many students joined us in the class. The room felt dizzy, and everything was in slow motion as I watched Addison walk to her seat. My heart dropped as Ashley looked back at me and we locked eyes. She turned her head back to the front as our teacher began the lesson. I clenched my fist hard; I could feel my nails breaking the skin on my hand. Ashley hasn’t looked me in my face the entire school year, what did this mean suddenly? Was it a threat? I’m not sure, but the fear in my chest wouldn’t allow me to tell anyone anyway. In a matter of minutes, I convinced myself that I wouldn’t.

About fifteen minutes into class, I was ready to explode. My insides were hot, and I could feel my skin melting. I was too anxious to know what Ashley has done. Then, it finally happened. Addison began to cough randomly cough rapidly. They sounded painful as she wheezed for breath in between coughs. It started an irruption in the class. “Addison are you okay?” her friend asked. But Addison didn’t answer. Instead, she began to hold her throat tight with both hands. ‘Ashley is evil’ I thought to myself. She is going to kill Addison! Addison’s friend rushed by her side, “Oh my gosh! Your face!” she exclaimed. Addison’s face generalized hives all over. Although her skin was brown, she was red as a cherry.  Addison was having an allergic reaction!

I’ve only seen this once when we were in elementary school. Addison had an encounter with peanuts while on a field trip to the zoo. Her entire face resembled a red balloon and she coughed uncontrollably, just as she did now. Oh now, Ashley has done something evil. That liquid substance must have contained peanuts. My stomach felt quesey and I began to gag. Some students turned quickly and glanced at me before turning their attention back to Addison. The thought of Ashley causing harm to Addison made me sick!

I watched Ashley jump from her seat and towards Addison. “What are you doing weirdo?” Addison’s friend called out. Ashley ignored her as she went into Addison’s backpack and retrieved her EpiPen. Ashley knew that Addison kept an EpiPen in her backpack, and I did too. But for some reason, I remained stuck in my seat watching the horrific scene play out like a movie. Ashley stabbed the Epipen into Addison’s thigh through her blue jeans. I felt my stomach knotting again while I gagged heavily and loudly. I quickly grabbed my backpack before vomiting into it. I’ve never felt this worse in my life.

I’ve begged my mind to erase the images of that day. Every time I think about it, I think about how I could’ve prevented it. I sat at the lunch table alone as I watched Ashley and Addison across the cafeteria. They were talking and laughing with those who used to be only Addison’s friends. Ashley’s long black hair hung to her waist as Addison’s was also. They both had matching cheer uniforms for the rival basketball game tonight. Months have passed and I never told Ashley’s secret. I convinced myself that Ashley deserved the life she was living. I’ve seen how she is when she’s not friends with Addison. Being lonely, going through high school alone. She deserves the same opportunities as us all; to have a social life, to feel pretty, and be happy. Whom would I be to take that all from her?

I haven’t spoken a word to Ashley, but whenever she sees me, I’m greeted with “Hey friend!”. Followed by a fast wave and bright smile before she goes along with her day. My heart skips a few beats, and my stomach knots every time she says it. I fear Ashley. She’s capable of the worst, hurting someone you once cared for. I knew I would never tell anyone about what Ashley had done, because if she’d hurt someone she was obsessed over, imagine what she’d do to me.

[megamindsecretlair]

Can you please write an Aaron Pierre smut fic or love story? 🙏🏽

A/N: Ya'll don't get me started on this man. Just don't. I'm obsessed.

Wild

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

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. SMUT. PWP, cursing, PIV, fingering (female receiving) teasing, size kink, dirty talk, degradation kink if you squint, rough sex, all consensual. Sorry if I missed some, I'm rushing, just let me know.

Summary: You went on a small camping trip with Terry, who graciously helped to introduce you to hiking. After a critter destroys your tent, you stupidly volunteer to share his. Shouldn’t be too bad, right?

Word Count: 5,859k

AO3 Link

A/N: THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A DRABBLE. Don't ask for him no more! (kidding, kinda) I will never be normal about him. It just kept going. My shoulder has been on fire for the past two weeks so I'm taking a much needed break. Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment, gif, or unhinged ask.

You stepped carefully along the ground. You made sure not a twig nor rock slipped beneath your shoes as you picked your way through the thicket of trees. Terry gave you a head start, closing his eyes and turning around with a smug look on his face.

You’ll show him though. There was no way he could track you this time. The ground was dry, you didn’t step on anything, and you worked with intention. The goal was to get to the river before he could catch up to you.

So far, it had to have been at least fifteen minutes since he started counting. That was a good enough lead, right? 

You were distracted. But something had to keep your mind off of your pursuer. You and Terry had formed an easy friendship, seeing each other around the gym. When he mentioned hiking was a hobby of his, you mentioned that you wanted to get into it but wasn’t sure where to start.

You should have kept your mouth shut. Spending nearly every week up close and personal with him was a new level of personal hell. He was so damn pretty. You didn’t often call men pretty, because…well…but he was!

The most striking eyes ever rimmed in dark eyelashes as if he were wearing eyeliner. Wide nose and even wider lips. An adorable, incredible smile. You stepped behind a tree and paused for a moment, bending over to grab your knees. 

Fuck you were out of shape. And trying to keep up with Terry’s tall ass was a struggle. Beyond a struggle. For every step he took, you had to scurry behind. And he didn’t believe in breaks. Fuckin’ ex military. 

You breathed through your nose though that only made breathing difficult. Didn’t help that you were horny as hell either. You leaned up and pressed your back against the bark of the tree, hoping no critters tried to ride home with you.

You took off your hat and wiped your brow, looking at your surroundings. The woods itself had thick trees, fluffy leaves, and branches that stretched high in the sky. Dots of sunlight slanted, giving you a peek at the bright blue sky. Terry would call it quits soon. You pouted. This was the second mini camping trip you’d been on with him and you hadn’t been able to escape him.

You replaced your hat on your head and risked a glance behind you. No sign of Terry. Good. You grinned and took off again, picking carefully through the woods. The water was close. You could hear the current from where you were. 

Almost there, oop around that rock, and ahhh, almost stepped on a rock. Ha. In his gorgeous face. 

You almost laughed but it would give away your position. You pressed your hand to the nearest tree as you swung around it just as strong arms pushed you into the tree.

You screamed as Terry moved in behind you, pressing his chest against your back. “Found you,” he said. His voice was low and deep, emerging from somewhere deep in his wide chest.

You groaned and slapped the tree. “How the hell did you find me?” You asked.

Terry chuckled and stepped away from you. You missed the heat of his body already. You schooled your features and turned around with a smirk on your face. You folded your arms across your chest so he couldn’t see how hard you were gasping for air. For more than one reason.

“You’re loud as hell,” he said. 

“Was not! I was being quiet! I made sure I was!” 

Terry looped his fingers through his hiking backpack and tilted his head at you. “I’ve been following you for ten minutes,” he said.

You looked away, back the way you came. Shit. What did he hear? What did he see? You may or may not talk to yourself to get yourself through shit. You ran through the past ten minutes, trying to think of what you said or did or if you drew any attention to the horrible crush you had on him.

He had to know his appeal. But you didn’t want to make him feel uncomfortable. You weren’t only friends with him because he was hot. That was loser shit. You genuinely valued his opinions, his outlook. You loved that he had a way of making everyone at ease with just a few quiet words or a playful look. 

But that goddamn body. You looked back towards his face, because if you looked at his shirt, dripping with sweat, you’d combust on the spot. Terry smirked as if he could read your thoughts and pointed the way you came.

“You have to be aware of your surroundings if you do find yourself in a situation like this. It’s not about being quiet. It’s about moving fast, moving smart, and trust nothing,” he said.

You put your hands on your hips and pouted. “One of these days you’re not gonna be able to catch me,” you said.

He chuckled. “I’d still catch you,” he said. He smirked and turned around, heading into the woods, away from the water. 

You’d just have to train when he wasn’t around being a distraction. You sighed, trying to not let the sting of failure drag you into the dumps. You walked behind him, your consolation prize being his nice, gorgeous ass. 

He wore camo pants and a gray t-shirt, hiking boots, and tall thick socks. The pants really showed off his assets. You bit your lip imagining what it’d be like pressed up against all that piece of man. 

“Keep up!” He barked out. You huffed and whined, jogging to catch up to him.

“You do know you’re like, eight feet tall right?” You asked.

He looked at you out of the corner of his eye, giving him an animalistic side eye. His eyes were lethal. Your breathing stuttered and you hoped he didn’t hear it because god. “And you must be part lion? Part tiger? Yo ass ain’t natural,” you said, hoping to diffuse whatever spell he managed to weave whenever he trained those eyes on you. 

Terry chuckled. “You trynna say I’m not human?” 

You didn’t answer right away, only because you were trying not to huff and puff as you talked. You needed your inhaler, but you also left it in your tent. Yes, yes, you knew it was a dumb move. But hell, there was nothing more embarrassing than having to stand there and use it.

“I mean…” you said, letting the sentence dangle.

Terry gave you that side eye again, his mouth twisted in a frown. You gave him an innocent smile back, batting your eyes all innocent-like. Terry only shook his head, the corners of his mouth drifting down as he tried to hide a smile. 

You walked together in silence, grateful if only because your lungs were burning. When you decided to go on this journey of getting in shape and getting your mind right, you never thought you’d be in the woods. Let alone with someone like Terry. 

He was competent, knowing so much about living off the grid and being prepared. He carried all kinds of tools with him. You had a thirst for knowledge, asking him a million questions. He answered every single one too. If you could clone him and pass him out like candy to your friends, you would. There needed to be more men like him. 

A trail of ripped paper littered the ground like patches of snow in the middle of fall. “No,” you gasped.

You sped up as Terry’s hands shot out to stop you, but you pushed past him, running towards your campground. Your tent was on the far left, torn to pieces and ripped apart. Your journal had been shredded, ripped apart by some kind of animal. Your clothes were thrown about.

You were only out here for a day and night, getting a tiny taste of camping thanks to Terry. You’d never been. Growing up an inner city kid, Black parents didn’t play that shit. The school yard was your jungle. You were threatened with going to stay out in the woods if you didn’t like living under their roof. It wasn’t a regular occurrence for you or your friends growing up. 

The small fire pit had been picked over as well. You made a wailing sound as you tried to gather up the ripped pieces of paper. All those memories gone. All those feelings torn up. Some pieces flew with the breeze and you took off your own backpack, trying hard not to cry.

“You can’t run ahead like that. What if it was dangerous?” Terry scolded you. His voice got deeper, eyes narrow. He bent down to help you pick up the pieces of paper.

“Please, don’t! I got it,” you said. Perhaps a bit harsher than necessary. You weren’t going to cry. It was a minor setback. Things happened. You play stupid games and you won stupid prizes. 

Perhaps your parents were right. You should’ve kept your ass inside. Without all these damn bugs, and twigs, and fucking leaves tangling in your braids. 

Terry busied himself with picking through your tent, analyzing what may have happened. Home. When you got home, you would be able to break down. Not here. Not with Terry right there. His ass didn’t skip a beat.

“Might’ve been a bear. Or something similar looking for food,” he shouted over his shoulder.

You nodded but weren’t sure if he saw you. You only wanted to clean up your mess. You had so many ideas you wanted to jot down when you got back. So many observations, thoughts that raced through your mind on your hike. Now those thoughts would be gone too. Terry’s one rule this morning was no cellphone. 

You could do a day without it. Boy, were you wrong. You made a mental note to keep your journal with you from now on. Or start carrying a smaller notebook for bullet points and then journal at home, like a sane woman.

“You can take my tent. I’ll sleep out here and make sure nothing circles back,” he said.

You stopped from grabbing the last piece of torn paper from a bush nearby and turned to face him. “I won’t make you do that,” you said.

Terry stood up and dusted his hands, unstrapping his back from across his chest. “I didn’t ask,” he said.

You snagged the last piece and carried your pathetic pile to your ruined tent. You liked that tent. You just bought that tent. Did the fucking bear think money grew on trees? You kicked at the black and orange heap and faced Terry.

“I didn’t either,” you said. 

Terry watched you with those deadly eyes as he dropped his bag to the ground. He used the bottom of his shirt to clean his sweaty face. Damn. His words drew your attention back to his face. “I’ve been trained to survive outdoors. You haven’t.” 

You tucked the pile of paper into your ruined tent and then faced him once more. Terry was about to meet a hard rock. “Don’t start with the macho act, okay? We’re adults. I’m not making you stay outside while I’m tucked away all nice and toasty in your tent,” you said.

A smile curved his lips as he stepped closer, using his height to his advantage. You had to look up otherwise you’d just be staring at his chest. You stood your ground and tilted your head. He may have the advantage. He may be just as stubborn as you were. But you did not back down. Ever. Some called it a toxic trait but there were other ways to survive. Everybody had something.

Terry’s eyes were even more dangerous up close. Not quite blue. Not quite brown. Some mix of the two that was hypnotizing in the way he coldly assessed you. You didn’t know what he was thinking. His poker face was lethal. Not a hint or a clue.

“What do you suggest, then?” He asked.

A hotel, a shower, a bed, twenty four hours, and a bottle of lotion. But that was neither here nor there. You licked your lips and blinked at him. “We can share. Or do you not want my cooties in your tent?” You asked.

That surprised a laugh out of Terry. He shook his head. “Fine. But I snuggle in my sleep,” he said. 

His jaw flexed. He looked expectantly at you, lifting an eyebrow like he expected you to back down. You only raised your chin. “Good, I get cold at night,” you said.

He blinked slowly and nodded, rocking back on his heels before stepping away. “I’ll help with your tent then, before we lose the light,” he said.

When he turned around, you sighed quietly. Shaking out your sweaty palms. Oh god. Ohgodohgodohgod. What the hell did you do that for? 

You berated yourself as you and Terry worked as a team, removing your items from inside and rolling up your tent. He secured it with rope from inside his backpack and you had a wayward thought that made you laugh out loud.

Terry had knelt on the ground, one knee up, as he secured your tent. He looked up at your laugh and you waved him off. 

“What is it?” He asked, a small smile on his lips.

“Nothing, it’s stupid,” you said.

“I want to know,” he said.

You pinched your lips, wondering if you should say. Aw hell, you had to get it out now otherwise you’d be giggling in your sleep all night. “You kind of remind me of Dora,” you said.

“The kid’s show?” He asked.

You nodded and tried to hold in the laugh, but your stomach cramped from trying. His expression only made it worse as he stared at you like you were crazy. Maybe you were. Maybe you didn’t need to be in a tent with him all night. 

Terry chuckled and shook his head. “Magic backpack?” He asked.

You nodded and burst into laughter. His eyes narrowed but he smiled at you. “Come on, giggles, we’re not done,” he said.

“Work, work, work, is that all you think about?” You asked.

“No,” he said, his voice low and soft. You tilted your head at him and he gave you a funny look. Assessing you again. He didn’t elaborate further as he moved your sleeping bag inside of his tent.

“I’ll roll mine in a bit. Let’s clean this up some more before we hit the stream,” he said.

You thought about look on his face as you cleaned up around the campfire. There was no food to be found, so whatever creature or critter that did it, just made a whole lot of mess for nothing. 

You threw away your journal pages into the small trash bag Terry had tied high in the tree above your campground. He secured it back in place after getting it down for you, gifting you with a side view of his abs. Good god, the man was built in all the right ways. God took his time with this one.

Nice and clean with only one tent now, Terry let you go to the stream to freshen up first. The woods lacked fresh amenities but it was one of those parks that did have strategically placed rest areas. You handled business and then went down to the small stream a ways down from the campsite.

It was within shouting distance and you used the fresh water to clean the sweat from your body. You returned, feeling much better now that your skin wasn’t so sticky. Terry went next, disappearing from view and already lifting his shirt.

You took a risky glance over your shoulder, admiring the cut of his back as he stalked through the woods. His narrow hips moved with ease, ass in full view. Your mouth watered as your canine caught on your lower lip. You’d eat that man alive if given half the chance.

Terry’s head was on a swivel, looking around just on GP. You hurriedly looked away, grabbing your inhaler from your pocket. You retrieved it during clean up but was too nervous to use it in front of him.

Lot of good it did you now, but you took two deep puffs to clean all this fresh air from your lungs. The one thing you did not have in common with your ancestors was a major love of the outdoors. Fuck the air and nature. Give you a hot bath and TV any day of the week. 

Terry returned and you eased into conversation, talking about your families as the light disappeared. Terry started a fire, stoking it with a stick. You talked about life goals, hobbies, or anything really. Watched as he moved, talked, or the way he laughed. Listening to his voice was soothing. Welcoming. Terry caught fish in the river earlier and cooked it over that fire when it was good and ready. 

You yawned one too many times and Terry chuckled. “Head inside, I’ll do one last check,” he said.

“We didn’t get to tell any scary stories,” you said.

Terry shook his head and smiled. He was already dimming the fire, carefully stamping out hot rocks in the pit he built. Watching that man build a fire shouldn’t have got you that hot and bothered but it did.

“Next time, if you’re up for it.”

“You never stop, huh?” You asked, sleepily. 

Terry shrugged. “Not much to slow down for,” he said. He looked at you over the fire. The light from the flames danced across his skin, making him seem even more otherworldly. An understanding passed between you and you nodded, getting up without issue. 

You patted his shoulder, understanding the note of loss in his voice. You’d been there. You didn’t understand his pain, but you understood loss all the same. You took a deep breath before heading inside his tent.

It smelled like him. Like all, pure male. You whimpered, climbing on top of your sleeping bag. He had a nice tent. Much nicer than yours, even though his was well used. It had been folded and unfolded so many times, the grooves were permanent at this point. 

His sleeping bag was brown and looked more like a blanket compared to yours. Did his big ass even fit inside of a sleeping bag? How did he normally sleep? Did he have a bed big enough to hold him? Did he sleep sideways?

You were only half sure that he was playing when he said he snuggled in his sleep. He never mentioned a girlfriend or a wife. Did he have big pillows to snuggle? You stared at the domed ceiling of the tent, picturing what Terry looked like at rest. 

It only made your pussy flutter picturing his smooth, dark skin. Eyes closed. Mouth slightly parted. Did he snore? You probably should have asked that before volunteering to share a tent with him.

The rustle of Terry entering the tent made you shriek and sit up, like you were caught with your hand in a cookie jar. Terry stopped at the entrance and looked at you. “Just me. Do you want me to stay outside?” 

“No. Um. I was just thinking,” you said. Thinking about sucking that –

“Are you sure?” 

“Yes,” you said, quietly. 

You couldn’t see his face now that the fire was out. He was just a solid wall of black, crab-walking into the tent and then zipping it up behind him. You were acutely aware of every move he made. Every sigh. Every huff of breath.

“Go to sleep,” he said.

“How the hell do you know I’m still awake?” You asked.

“You’re too loud,” he said. 

You could hear the smile in his voice and you rolled your eyes. “Heard that too,” he said.

“Oh, shut it!” You said, rolling over to your side. Terry chuckled as he climbed into his sleeping bag. 

You shut your eyes and focused on your breathing, focused on falling asleep. Terry made it surprisingly easy. His gentle breathing was its own type of sound machine, lulling you to sleep along with the crickets outside. The soft hum of the water nearby. Before you knew it, you were out like a light.

Rustling jerked you awake. It was hard to truly knock out in the middle of nowhere, next to someone like Terry, and not still be keen to every single sound. You were feeling hot as hell, like you woke up in a sauna.

Terry’s arms were wrapped around you and you were snuggled up under his neck, inhaling his deep masculine scent. You cracked an eye open, though you still couldn’t see. Pitch black outside and inside the tent.

Terry hummed as more rustling turned your attention from the fact that he really did snuggle in his sleep. The noise made your heart speed up, clogged up your throat, made it hard to breathe.

Terry tightened his arms around you and drew his face down until his mouth was against your cheek. “Shh,” he said, too quiet. You didn’t think him capable.

He extracted himself from you, moving in a way that didn’t make noise at all. He even managed to unzip the tent without making a sound. He only unzipped it far enough to peek out.

You weren’t a damn damsel in distress. So you rolled over, not as quiet as him, and joined him at the entrance. There was enough light from the moon to cast a low glow over the campsite. There was nothing truly out there, but the rustling continued. The sound increased, and got closer and closer.

Your hand flew to Terry’s exposed knee, gripping on for dear life as an actual deer walked out of bushes and sniffed the air. You sighed, deflating against Terry’s side. Terry sighed as well, unzipping the tent more to get a good look. 

The both of you watched the deer nose around the campsite, likely following the smell of Terry’s good cooking. It’s ears swayed back and forth, picking through nothing as Terry was meticulous about cleaning up after himself.

“You were scared,” he whispered, shaking his head.

“So were you!” You fired back.

“Nah, I was good,” he said.

“You liar,” you said, with a chuckle.

“It’s okay if you were scared, you know,” he said. 

“Ain’t nobody scared of no damn deer. And ain’t nobody need your protection,” you said. You poked him in his chest. When did he find a chance to ditch his shirt? You had been snuggled next to that hunk of meat and he didn’t have a shirt on?!

“No?” Terry leaned over, his lips grazing your ear. “Go out there and say hi.” He tried to push you out of the tent and you fought him, trying not to spook the deer. One wrong move and the deer took off.

You giggled as you wrestled with Terry. He was so big, you didn’t stand a chance. It didn’t take much effort to subdue you, but you bucked and wrestled for control. No dice. Terry laughed as he pinned you beneath him, legs spread wide as he scooted in and leaned down close to your face.

“Give up?” He asked.

“Like hell,” you said. You had siblings. You knew how to scrap. Yet, all you did was rub your body against his growing bulge. 

You stopped wrestling for control. Your breaths were harsh and loud in the stillness of the tent. Terry’s chest rose and fell but he wasn’t as loud as you. You stopped struggling against his hold, letting him pin your wrists to the ground above your head.

“Hmm,” he hummed, a rumbling sound low in his chest. “Ain’t that better?” 

“Terry?” You asked.

“Mhm,” he said, leaning down to rub his stubble across your chin. 

“Kiss me,” you said.

Terry leaned up and kissed you. You moaned into his mouth. His lips were just as juicy, just as lush. Soft to the touch. And he was an expert. Kissing, retreating, licking, retreating, biting, retreating. He drove you wild, not giving an inch. Not giving you any wiggle room.

He completely caged you beneath him. Beneath the heaviness of him. He still had your wrists pinned, so you weren’t able to touch him like you wanted. You weren’t the type to be agreeable for agreeable’s sake.

Terry growled at your attempts to shake his hold. Shake his control. He bit your lip, hard, and you cried out, ending on a moan. He licked the sting away, kissing down your jaw and to your neck.

“Fuck do you do to me?” He asked, more to himself as he kissed and explored your skin. He ground his bulge into your pussy and you whimpered, wrapping your legs around his waist.

Just as he showed you in training, you managed to buck your hips and flip him over. You wailed in triumph, not actually believing that would work. Your breaths were harsh, wild, as you finally got to touch him. Your hands roamed over his broad, warm chest. He took great care of his body.

In a lightning quick move, Terry grabbed your arm and flipped you over to your stomach. He grabbed both of your wrists and pinned them behind your back. You cried out from the force, but it was welcome. Inviting a rush of heat to flow through you, straight to your dripping pussy. You moaned as Terry dropped his weight on top of you.

His dick aligned with your ass and you tucked it higher. He grunted and slapped your ass. “Ow!” You yelled, more from surprise. Though the fucker did hurt. With hands as large as his, he managed to cover a wide area of your ass. Leaving behind a burning sting that only made you wiggle your ass against him.

“Fighting only turns me on, princess,” he said. He leaned down to your ear and growled. He sounded damn near like a lion. “Give up?” He nibbled on your ear.

“Fuck no,” you said and giggled. 

Terry moved your wrists to one hand, then used his free hand to pull your joggers down over your ass. You whimpered as he caressed your booty, intentionally missing the heated core of you. 

You moaned, trying to wiggle your ass where you needed him most. All these months of pining, of wanting, of yearning, were coming to a head. All those times training, working beside him, tangling with him were catching up to you, Making you feel like you were going to burn to a crisp.

“Use them big girl words and tell me what you want,” he said.

You arched your back. Begging, crying whimpers escaping you as his big fingers skirted the outer edge of your pussy. The smell of your arousal permeated the tent. There was no way to deny how turned on you were. If you could just, wiggle, and move a little to the left–

Terry slapped your ass. “What did I say?” He asked.

You groaned. “Fuck me!” Your horniness won this round.

Terry chuckled evilly, plunging his fingers into your dripping wet hole. You both moaned at the contact. He went knuckles deep with no resistance. He wiggled two fingers inside of you, making you moan loudly like a slut. 

“Was that so hard?” He asked, whispering in your ear as he continued to finger fuck you. He fingered you with all the precision he was known for. Immediately making you grind on his fingers. 

“You can do better than that. Get that shit you want so bad,” he said. He mocked you, he teased you. Every cry or whimper that came out of your mouth, he responded with an evil chuckle or a moan of his own in your ear.

It was always followed randomly by a growl in his chest. The intimacy of the dark and the wet sucking of your pussy drove you closer to that climax. Barreled into it. Crashed into it. You screamed, loud, calling his name as that climax slammed into you like a truck.

“There it is. Shit feel good, don’t it?” He asked.

You nodded your head, forgetting for a moment that it was dark and he couldn’t see you. He released your wrists and then grabbed a handful of your braids, yanking your head back. “Don’t it?” He asked.

“Yesss,” you moaned, biting your lip and rubbing your ass against him. “Oh, fuck me, baby. Now.”

Terry chuckled, smacking your ass. “As much as I want to, I don’t have a condom,” he said. 

“I’m clean. On the pill,” you said. Thank god for that. There was no way you’d be able to sleep tonight without the feel of him inside of you. 

“Are you sure?” He asked.

You nodded, feeling your braids pull as it was still trapped in his tight grip. Terry chuckled. There was the sound of sucking. He moaned. “Taste good. Can’t wait to get back home and spread you on my bed. Hmm, maybe my dining table. Eat you like the good fuckin’ meal you are,” he said. 

He moved behind you, lowering his pants. He groaned, rubbing his dick against your folds. Oh shit. He was working with a third leg. “Oh shit, Terry,” you moaned. Your belly ached. Hollowed out. You were so empty. 

“You’ve been driving me crazy wearing those leggings. And that skirt you wore last week?” Terry talked as he rubbed his dick between your legs. You shook. Terrified of taking all that but knew you had to try. Had to relax and let the master work. 

“What took you so fuckin’ long?” You asked. 

Terry chuckled and smacked your ass, pulling your braids back. You moaned, back arching even more. “That little attitude of yours,” he said. 

“Fuck y–”

Terry pushed into your wet heat, cutting off all words. You reached back, trying to grab onto him. He smacked your hand away and pushed in further, gaining more and more inches inside of you.

Your legs shook. You whimpered as he retreated and then slammed back inside. He sunk further in, stretching you, molding you around his dick. “Oh god, oh fuck, oh god,” you moaned. The delicious burn was too much. Not enough.

Terry moaned, grabbing your hip and pulling you further onto his dick. You didn’t think he could fit inside any more. Surely, he bottomed out by now? 

“Not so tough with some dick in you,” Terry mocked. 

To prevent you from saying something smart, Terry moved with earnest. His stroke game was as intense as the man himself. His strokes were brutal. Punishing. He groaned with every slide inside of you, making your thighs tingle with pleasure.

“Slam that shit back,” he said. 

You placed your hands on the ground and threw it back on him, rising up to meet each of his thrusts. Each of his long strokes. Accepting his dick. Accepting everything he gave you.

“Terry! Oh, you fuck me so well,” you said. You sniffled, screaming with every thrust.

Terry chuckled. “I know. Spread your legs wider,” he said.

He stopped stroking so that you could spread your legs more. You moved your feet to the outer edges of his legs. He pushed down on your back, releasing your braids so that you could fall forward. He raised your hips, moving you, manhandling you. 

Fuck, it felt so right. So good. So natural to be on your knees, ass up in the air, while he went to work. Terry grabbed your hips and moved you one last time. Then, he slammed inside in one rough thrust. You leaned forward, but he snatched you right back.

“Naw, naw. Where you going?” He moaned.

You moaned back, throwing it back but quickly losing the fight. This wasn’t some little man you let fuck you. This was a grown ass man. Secure in his businesses.

“Fuck, you feel good. So wet. I can barely stay inside of you,” he said. He cursed as he slammed into you like he truly wanted.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck. Terry! Terry! Sh-shh–oh that’s my spot,” you said. He brushed up against a deep spot inside of you. You thought it was a myth. You thought that shit didn’t exist. Terry found it without even trying.

“That’s your spot?” He asked. His deep voice made everything sound more filthy. More lewd. 

“That’s my spot!” You squealed. 

“That’s my spot now,” he said. No more words were spoken as he hit that spot over and over. 

Incoherent noises and sounds dribbled from your mouth. Perhaps some spit too. Your essence dripped out of you, flooding his dick as he didn’t let up. Didn’t stop. Kept hitting your spot like he was at target practice and he was showing out for the crowd. 

“Oh I’m gonna-I’m-gonna–”

“Cum on this dick. Let me feel it. Let it go,” he cooed to you.

There was a storm gathering inside of you. It almost felt like you had to pee. “Wait-” 

Terry moaned. Your cries turned to pleas. It both felt good and sort of hurt. “Uhngf-” You exploded, wailed to the high heavens as you came and squirted. “OH SHIT!”

Terry was saying something but you couldn’t hear over the sound of your yelling. Your pussy gripped onto him, locked him in, as you came and came. Terry smacked your ass and then thrust one last time before erupting with his own climax. He stuffed you completely.

Hot, thick pulses of cum throbbed inside of you. Your thighs shook. Your body twitched. Your eyes watered. You dissolved into a steaming pile of person as your eyes crossed with intense, whitehot pleasure.

Terry grunted and dropped forward, pushing you onto your sleeping bag. He kissed your damp pajama shirt. Both of you were huffing, out of breath. Thank god for your inhaler. Your lungs would be nonexistent right now. 

Terry softened by degrees, enough for him to pull out. You moaned as his cum leaked out. Like his dick was a plug keeping it all inside. 

“That’s never happened before,” you mumbled. Suddenly feeling shy and embarrassed. You ought to know what that felt like. Yet, it completely caught you off guard.

Terry maneuvered in the dark until he was able to pull you off of your sleeping bag and onto his where it was dry. He rubbed your arms and shoulders. Then, he grabbed your chin and pulled you into a searing kiss.

“I’m honored I drew it out of you,” he said. “Wait till I do it again.”

“Again! Not with that monster!” You yelled and tapped his chest. Terry’s rumbling laugh was everything you needed to hear. 

He pulled you closer, growling playfully and nipping at your skin. You giggled, trying to wiggle out of his grasp. “Again and again and again,” he said, kissing and nibbling at you with every word while you shrieked into the night with laughter.

The end.

Who am I kidding? Of course there will be more! The Secret Terry Richmond Files

Taglist: @planetblaque @chaos-4baby @amethyst09 @ciaqui @we-outsiiiide

@browngirldominion @iv0rysoap @thecookiebratz @harmshake @00aijia00

@judymfmoody @multiversefanfics @tvchi @xo-goldengirl @superhoeva

@avoidthings @lovedlover

[latenightreadingpdf]

The Cutest Thing - Sirius Black

₊‧⁺˖⋆ Masterlist ⋆˖⁺‧₊

Summary: When you visit the Marauders' dorm to ask Remus for help with your Charms homework, you're surprised to find a large black dog in the room.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

You hurried through the hallways of Gryffindor Tower, clutching your Charms textbook and muttering to yourself. The essay Flitwick assigned was due tomorrow, and you were in desperate need of help. Luckily, Remus Lupin was your go-to for all things academic, and you figured he wouldn’t mind you dropping by the Marauders’ dorm.

When you reached their door, you knocked softly at first, then a bit louder when no one answered. From inside, you could hear what sounded like… barking? Frowning, you knocked again. Still no answer. The barking continued, frantic and insistent.

Worried something was wrong, you slowly pushed the door open.

“Hello? Remus?”

The scene that greeted you was not what you expected. Remus was sitting cross-legged on his bed, nose buried in a book. James was lounging on his bed, tossing a ball in the air, while Peter sat at the desk scribbling something on parchment. In the center of the room was a large, black dog pawing at Remus, barking as if trying to get his attention.

You froze in the doorway.

James noticed you first, the ball dropping to his chest with a thud. “When did you get here?”

You gestured at the dog. “Uh… whose dog is that?”

All three boys froze, exchanging a fleeting, panicked glance.

“Oh, him?” James said quickly, sitting up. “We, uh, found him outside. Poor thing was injured, so we brought him in to heal him up.”

Your heart melted instantly. “Oh, you poor thing!” You crouched down, extending a hand toward the dog. “C’mere, boy.”

The dog—who had been ignoring the boys entirely—turned to you immediately, tail wagging furiously. He sniffed your hand, then began licking it enthusiastically.

You laughed, scratching behind his ears. “You’re the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. And your fur is so soft!”

The dog leaned into your touch, practically vibrating with joy.

James cleared his throat. “Yeah, he’s, uh, a good boy. Aren’t you, boy?”

“What are you going to do with him after he’s healed?” you asked, looking up at the boys.

The dog let out a whine, nudging your hand with his nose.

“Not sure yet,” Remus said tightly, glaring at the dog as if it had personally insulted him. “Probably just let him back out where we found him.”

You frowned, running your fingers through the dog’s fur. “That’s so sad. I’ll miss you so much, boy.”

The dog whined louder, pressing his head into your lap.

James stood abruptly. “Well, it’s getting late! You should probably head back to your dorm now.”

You blinked. “It’s six o’clock?”

“Yep, still, you’ve got a big day tomorrow,” James said, ushering you toward the door.

“Alright, alright, I’m going,” you laughed, giving the dog one last scratch behind the ears. “Bye, cutie!”

The dog barked, wagging his tail so hard it thumped against the bedpost.

The moment the door closed behind you, Remus rounded on the dog.

“Change back, now.”

With a shimmer of fur and a crack, Sirius Black stood in the middle of the room, his trademark smirk firmly in place.

“Did you hear her?” he asked, looking positively delighted. “She said I was the cutest!”

Peter groaned, dropping his head into his hands.

Remus scowled. “You’re insufferable.”

“I can’t help it,” Sirius said, throwing himself onto James’s bed dramatically. “I’ve got the charm—both human and canine.”

James rolled his eyes. “Just don’t get too comfortable, Pads. She’ll find out eventually.”

“And when she does,” Sirius said, grinning like a maniac, “she’ll already think I’m adorable.”

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

A/N ~ just a short little blurb because I’m bored

[pinkiemachine]

Hero Swap Pt. 1

Part 2 here 👇

[keenzinemugstudent]

(Miguel yelling at Miles)

Y/n: What's the problem? Why you yelling at him like that tho?

Miguel: Yelling?

Y/n: *Gets in his face* YELLING!!!!

[ynscrazylife]

seekers get stitches (poly!marauders x slytherin!seeker!reader)

In your opinion, the Marauders are arseholes. They were tolerable as first years, even as second years, but was they grew up, they only got more annoying as their pranks got bigger and bigger. It doesn’t help that they seem to hate all Slytherins, which is the house you belong to. You understand that yes, many of the students have given the house a bad name, but it’s not all of you! Yet somehow, you frequently ended up on the unfortunate end of many of their pranks.

Now, you’ve had the chance to stand up to them, being the Seeker for the Slytherin Quidditch Team this season. James is the Seeker for the Gryffindor Quidditch Team, giving the Marauders even more of a reason to dislike you. James and Sirius even go as far as to hang around during your team’s practice time, booing you or making jokes at your expense from the stands.

Well, it’s the semi-finals. Gryffindor vs. Slytherin. Whoever wins this will go up against Ravenclaw for this year’s Quidditch Cup. Everyone is talking about this game — Remus even put his book down to pay attention. Both teams’ chasers have been scouring points, but the crowd’s eyes are locked onto you and James. You can feel hundreds of stares lasered on your back as you race around the pitch. When you finally spot the golden blur of the snitch, you don’t think twice before racing towards it. James follows you and soon, you’re quite literally neck and neck.

“Just give up now, Y/LN! You’re not gonna catch it,” James yells over the wind.

His words vaguely register in your mind, but you don’t pay attention. Everything is riding on this. You’ll either return to the common room as your house’s hero to pat on the back or their villain to torment.

“What, no comeback?” James prods.

You grunt, stretching your hands out. The snitch’s wings flutter against your fingertips. You lean forward as far as possible, one shaky hand remaining on the broom, you’re so close.

But so is James. His hand joins yours. Curse his tall stature, you think. It’s just not fair!

You swear you’re about to have it in your hand when—a bludger beams your shoulder, knocking you sideways and directly into James. The snitch flies away as the both of you fall, tumbling straight towards the ground. Lights out.

//

When you open your eyes, you find the faces of a couple friends staring back down at you. They tell you that you’re in the hospital wing after a Quidditch accident, with a dislocated shoulder, a concussion, and a broken ankle. Madame Pomfrey used a spell to set your shoulder, but you still need to stay in bed and take potions for your injuries, requiring a longer stay here.

“Who caught the snitch?” You ask, the memories hazy.

“I did.”

You turn your head, only to see James Potter lying in the bed next to you. Sirius Black and Remus Lupin are sitting by him and they wave. James’ nose, arm, and leg are all bandaged up.

“Caught it right before you knocked into me,” James elaborates.

Your stomach churns, realizing why only your friends are here and not your team. You lost the game for them, they must be disappointed.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur, unsure of what you’re supposed to say to that.

“Don’t be, it’s the bludger’s fault. James is just being difficult,” Remus says, waving his hand. Out of the three of them, he’s definitely the nicest.

//

As the days go on, Sirius and Remus are there every day. Your friends aren’t. They visit a couple more times, then they stop. They’re busy, they have classes, you understand. At least, that’s what you tell yourself. Oftentimes, you end up accidentally listening to the Marauders’ conversations. James gives Sirius and Remus his plans for pranks, the other two update them on what’s going on around the castle.

They visit a lot.

One afternoon, you wake up from a nap to find them visiting again, though, and talking about you.

“Isn’t it weird that her friends barely visit her?”

“Haven’t seen her team around either. Thought Slytherins cared about their own.”

“Must suck for her.”

“Yeah.”

Your nap wasn’t particularly good, with the uncomfortable mattress and scratchy sheets. You open your eyes, frowning at the trio, in a bad mood. “You know, I don’t need your pity,” you say.

Three heads snap towards you, all looking like deer in headlights (you have no clue that for James, it’s truer than you think).

“It’s not - we’re not pitying you. It’s, uh, empathy,” Sirius rushes to cover them.

You roll your eyes. “Uh-huh,” you say, not believing him. You shake your head, tired of lying in this bed and being in pain and having the three of them sit next to you day after day after day. You decide you’re done here, your arm’s in a sling, your ankle’s almost 100% healed, it’s fine.

You throw the blanket aside, standing up, only to stumble. It’s not your ankle, it’s your head. Damn concussion.

“Woah, woah,” Remus says, both him and Sirius getting up to approach you. “You should sit back down.”

“I’m fine,” you say stubbornly, taking a couple more unbalanced steps only for Sirius to grasp at your arm.

“Come on, don’t make us tell Pomfrey on you, it’d really hurt my reputation,” Sirius says, smiling.

You snatch your arm away, anger flaring up. “Like I give a bloody hell about your reputation!” You exclaim.

“Hey, what’s the problem?” Sirius asks, putting his hands up.

“My problem? You guys are the ones who have a problem with me! You’re always asses to me, then you talk about me behind my back . . . I don’t even see why you care where I go or what I do. I’m a Slytherin, remember?” You say.

That quiets the Marauders. They’re not sure how to respond because, well, you’re right. Slytherins are easy to hate, so they hate them.

“Y/L/N, back in bed.”

Crap. It’s Pomfrey. You sigh and do what he says. The Marauders don’t say anything else.

//

After a couple more days, James is out of the hospital wing, managing to talk Pomfrey into releasing him. You’re still stuck there, as the concussion’s giving you trouble.

It’s lonely without their chatter. As much as they annoy you, you miss it. You miss them. Just a little bit. When they’re not hating on Slytherins, they’re . . . Nice. Fun.

It’s just your luck that they come around again, to visit you.

“Hey,” James says, Remus and Sirius behind you.

You huff. “Hi,” you say, making a tight line with your lips. What are they doing here? They don’t care.

“We wanted to see how you were doing and, uh, talk, if we can?” Remus says, politely smiling at you.

“If it’s more bullshit on pitying me—” you start.

“It’s not. We don’t like Slytherins, okay?” Sirius says, pulling up a chair and sitting down next to you. James and Remus follow.

You take a breath and stare, waiting for the explanation.

“A lot of them believe in all the Death Eater shit,” James says.

“But not all,” you point out.

James nods. “Not all. But we’re pranksters. We prank Slytherins because it’s easy. We also prank other houses but you’re right, we like to target Slytherins. There’s no reason for that other than that we can. It’s-it’s easy to not like them. To convince ourselves that they deserve it. For you, it was easy to . . . To not like you, either. Quidditch rivalry, right? But you have a point. We shouldn’t . . . We shouldn’t be so, ah, mean to all of them. The ones who aren’t into the Death Eater shit,” he explains.

You’re a bit surprised, a bit suspicious. Is this really the truth?

“Not so easy to convince yourself anymore, is it?” You ask.

“No, it’s not,” Sirius affirms.

“We brought cards,” Remus offers, taking a deck out of his pockets. “Figured you were pretty bored in here.”

“Prove it to me that you’re being honest, then I’ll think about playing cards with you,” you say, putting on a brave face. You have no clue that if they’ll actually do it or not.

But they agree to your terms. They start being real, not targeting random Slytherins. They stop being mean.

Eventually, you do agree to play cards with them. You’re almost out of the hospital wing, too. In fact, it’s your last night there, you’ve just beat them all in the game, when you decide to ask them why. What compelled them to come seek you out after James got out of the hospital wing, if not just feeling bad?

“Isn’t it obvious?” Sirius asks, grinning. “We’ve all fallen for you, love.”

That sparks the start of something new for the four of you.

[tastesousweet]

Can we get a toxic!babydaddy Matt fic like I’m craving something about my man like it’s been days and I haven’t eaten

⭒ blurb : toxic!bd matt who . . .

toxic!babydaddy matt x poc!reader

warnings: toxic relationship, dad!matt (i understand if u don’t fw it), idk what else :P

mickey speaks: this is kinda different for me so ty for the req!! ik this is just a little headcannon set but i hope you luv this anon 💐

─────────── · · ୨୧ · · ───────────

TOXIC!BABYDADDY MATT WHO . . . brings some girl he’s been “hanging out with” to your daughter’s third birthday party just to piss you off

he’d then get mad when you ignore him and his “friend” the entire party…

he’d come up to you as you watch your daughter play on the decorated playground from afar, “the fuck you bein’ petty for, y/n? i thought we were cool with seeing other people?”

“well i just think it’s rude, you didn’t tell me you were bringing anyone else. i don’t care who she is or what you two do it’s annoying from a planning perspective.”

“that’s my bad… you look good though,” he’d glance around for a second before coming behind you and hooking his arm on your neck.

he’d whisper in your ear while you both stare out at your lively daughter, “can’t believe she’s so big now… lookin’ just like her pretty mama.”

you’d roll your eyes and shoulder matt off of you, “matt, go fuck on the bitch you brought here. and stop saying shit like that to me.”

“jesus- watch your language there’s kids everywhere, y/n.”

you blankly stare at him and his cocky smirk that just aggravates you to pieces, “go awayyy, matt.” you whine out and pinch your eyes with a sigh.

and he laughs because everything’s a fucking joke to him.

TOXIC!BABYDADDY MATT WHO . . . your friends hate but you will always have a soft spot for, he is your daughter’s father after all

TOXIC!BABYDADDY MATT WHO . . . sends hundreds of roses to your doorstep for mother’s day

when you text him a picture of the ridiculous bouquets with a “????” he immediately facetimes you, “for the best mama in the whole world. you like ‘em?”

you shake your head and hide a smirk beneath your hand to scold him, “you do too much, matt.”

“uh huh i knew you’d say that…” he’d then ask to see his favorite girl, “now where’s my baby at?”

TOXIC!BABYDADDY MATT WHO . . . can’t mind his business to save his life. he’s always asking you questions about your personal life; and you always shut him down

TOXIC!BABYDADDY MATT WHO . . . can sometimes be a little too desirable when he drops your daughter off at your place (dressed nicely, smelling good, eyes bright yet droopingly eye-fucking you, etc), leading you to invite him in for a glass of wine or two

TOXIC!BABYDADDY MATT WHO . . . you sometimes find in your bed again when you feel particularly lonely and nostalgic

TOXIC!BABYDADDY MATT WHO . . . loves the few times he gets to to wake up to his daughter pulling on his hand and you by his side, fast asleep

TOXIC!BABYDADDY MATT WHO . . . tends to start arguments from the smallest things to get you to talk to him longer than you need to

TOXIC!BABYDADDY MATT WHO . . . will always put effort into being a great father (which you respect) despite never putting that same effort into your relationship

TOXIC!BABYDADDY MATT WHO . . . makes sure you’ll never forget he loved you first and is connected to you far deeper than any other man ever could be

[winter-wise]

so I've found the greatest elden ring fanfic of all time:

Things Tarnished Are No Longer Allowed To Do In The Lands Between

[kairawrites]

off track.

minors dni 18+, thanks!

🌺masterlist🌺

pairing: lewis hamilton x black!reader

author's note: careful kaira, your Lew fantasies are showing. this is not edited, didn't need to chicken out of sharing it.

Summary: Keeping your relationship a secret is tough when Lewis can’t keep his eyes or hands off you.

Words: 2254

On track, Lewis Hamilton is fast, calm, and laser-focused, with an instinct for precision that makes every lap feel effortless. His driving is a masterclass in control, blending speed with a strategic mind that sees opportunities where others see limits. As the adrenaline surges, it sharpens his senses, fueling a relentless drive to push boundaries and seek perfection, making him not just a competitor but a force of nature on the asphalt.

Off track, he's slow and relaxed, with movements that are unhurried and deliberate. He savors each moment, finding joy in the simple pleasures and beauty around him. His demeanor is calm, almost meditative, as he takes the time to appreciate the world outside of racing. When he speaks, his words are thoughtful and measured, often turned to praising others and acknowledging their efforts. His humility shines through, as he effortlessly uplifts those around him, offering encouragement and gratitude with a sincerity that reflects his deep respect for people and life.

These habits carried into the evening, which had stretched far longer than he preferred. The event was a glittering affair, filled with familiar faces and the kind of small talk that came with the territory. It was an opportunity to converse with celebrities from different industries, and networking—a skill he had honed over the years—was second nature to him. He moved effortlessly from one conversation to the next, seamlessly blending charm and intellect. The number of introductions, handshakes, and posed smiles under the barrage of camera flashes blurred together, each interaction a practiced routine.

Yet, despite the buzz and the endless flow of champagne, his attention was elsewhere. His thoughts kept wandering back to you, the one person who stood out in the sea of glittering gowns and tailored suits. Every so often, his eyes would seek you out across the room, lingering on you as you moved through the crowd. He found himself captivated by the way you smiled, the way you laughed at some offhand remark, and the way you carried yourself with effortless grace.

The conversations around him faded into the background as Lewis watched you, his focus narrowing until you were the only person in the room who mattered. Each lingering glance he sent your way was filled with unspoken thoughts, a silent pull that neither of you could ignore. Even as he navigated the demands of the evening, you remained at the forefront of his mind, an irresistible presence that drew him in, no matter how much he tried to stay engaged with everyone else.

A month--that's how long it's been since he's last seen you. Work obligations, on both ends, proving to be an obstacle. It wasn't ideal for your reunion to be at such a public place.

The stunning emerald, green gown that flowed like liquid silk, the color a striking contrast against your deep brown skin, making you look like a jewel amidst the crowd. The gown featured a plunging neckline and a thigh-high slit, adding a hint of allure while maintaining an air of sophistication. The rich green fabric caught the light with every step you took, highlighting the gown’s luxurious texture and making you the center of attention. You stood out so brilliantly that you attracted the gaze of every man in the room.

Most men would scowl at the idea of other men admiring their girlfriend, but their attention didn’t spark jealousy in Lewis. Instead, he admired each detail of your ensemble, knowing that every element was tailored to suit his taste. His eyes were drawn to the plunging neckline of your gown, where a delicate necklace nestled against your skin. The necklace, a gift from him, was a masterpiece of craftsmanship: a simple yet elegant silver chain adorned with a single, brilliant diamond pendant. It shimmered subtly, catching the light with every movement you made. Lewis couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of pride, seeing how the necklace complemented your beauty and how, despite the undercover nature of your relationship, every detail was a reflection of his admiration and love for you.

Tonight, his hello came in the form of his touch, his fingers brushing against yours with a gentle, intimate caress as he removed the empty champagne flute from your hand. You felt a shiver of warmth at his touch, a familiar sensation that sent a flutter through you. He replaced the flute with a glass of wine, his right hand settling possessively on your hip for the briefest of moments. His touch reassuring, grounding, as his thumb dragged along the fabric of your gown resting against the small of your back.

“Stunning as always, Ms. Y/L/N,” he notes, his touch tracing the curve of your hip. Lewis leaned in slightly, his breath warm against your ear as he adds, “I was hoping we can find a more private place to talk later.”

You sipped your wine, the cool liquid a sharp contrast to the heat of his touch. With a cheeky smile, you responded, “You expect the man of the hour to disappear unnoticed?”

He nodded towards the bartender, signaling for a refill of his whiskey. As he turned back to you, his eyes held a playful glint. “You’d be surprised what I can do, love,” he said with a grin, his touch leaving a sudden chill as he withdrew his hand. His gaze swept the room, taking in the crowd with a calculated look, as if considering the best way to make his escape without drawing too much attention.

Accepting his glass, Lewis took a leisurely sip, savoring the rich taste of his whiskey. His gaze returned to you, and he shamelessly took in every detail of your appearance. His eyes roamed over the elegant curve of your neckline, the way the gown accentuated your figure, the length of your thigh, down to your ankle. Retracing each feature, the corner of his mouth turning up as his gaze traced the curve of your lips.

Despite the warmth and familiarity of his gaze, you felt a twinge of nervousness. Each time his eyes meet yours, they seemed to pierce through the layers of confidence you typically exude. The intensity of his admiration, though flattering, made your heart race slightly. His gaze lingered with an intensity that was both flattering and unnerving, causing a delicate warmth to creep across your cheeks. The heat spreading from your head to your toes, causing you to find relief in the wine you held. Despite your surroundings, and the respectable distance between your bodies, you could feel the weight of his attention, the way it made you acutely aware of every movement and every expression, as if Lewis could read your thoughts with just a look. It was something you haven't gotten used to and probably never will.

The way his eyes had a way of making you feel like the center of his universe, which was both exhilarating and a little unsettling.

You cleared your throat, shifting your gaze to his emptying glass. “Congratulations on your Grand Prix, Lewis. Looking to unwind tonight?”

“In more ways than one,” he replied with a grin, his eyes twinkling with humor. “Don’t worry, I’m not behind the wheel tonight.”

You giggled, your eyes meeting his with a playful challenge. “Looks like you’re trying to get into trouble.”

His smile widened, and he leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “Promise, I’ll save the best kind for you.” He winked, a hint of mischief dancing in his gaze. As he turned back to signal the bartender for his refill, his hand lingered on your hip, creating a warm, comforting pressure. Once his drink arrived, he met your gaze. "As always, the pleasure is mine, Ms. Y/L/N," he smiled before returning to his guests.

And believe me, it was.

Tonight, his eyes admired the chestnut lipstick, noting the contrast of its rich hue against the soft, full curve of your lips. His gaze drawn to the way your teeth gently dug into the tender flesh, a gesture of both contemplation and restraint. His thumb traced the curve of your bottom lip, the touch light yet insistent, encouraged you to release the bite and reveal the full, seductive shade of your lipstick. You had spent time perfecting your makeup, after all, and he intended to appreciate every detail.

Tonight, he spoke praise into the warmth of your ear, his voice softening as his lips and tongue traced the delicate curve of your neck. His gruff tone melted into a whisper, and he pressed gentle kisses to your pulse, each touch sent shivers down your spine. The contrast of his rugged voice with the tenderness of his actions creates a captivating intimacy, as if he’s recommitting and savoring each inch of you to memory.

Tonight, his calloused hands traced the curves of your hips, admiring the gentle dips and contours as he gripped and kneaded the soft flesh beneath the fabric of your dress. His fingertips dragged and lingered, moving slowly towards your thighs, igniting a thrilling heat with each deliberate touch. His senses were flooded with your scent, a heady mix of perfume and warmth that fueled him with a high he could only ever capture on the track. The intensity of the moment, the closeness of your bodies, and the undeniable chemistry between you all combine to create a rush unlike any other, driving him to lose himself in the sensation.

It was the feeling of pleasure he felt with you, that was unmatched by any woman before, which fueled the movements of his fingers as they slipped between your legs. The strokes of his thumbs meticulously hitched your breath, fluttering your eyes closed. The heat of his mouth, sucked against your chest, your neck, the weight of his body pressed you against the chilled bathroom door. The pressure he built weakened your knees, your fingers clinging to his shoulders as you struggled to breathe.

"Lew…"

His brow arched, his teeth catching the overhead vanity light in a brief flash of white. "Hmm?"

Your lips parted, but your voice was caged beneath the shaky breath his touch pulled out of you. The tremor in your chest revealing the effect he had on you, making it difficult to form coherent words. His touch, both electrifying and tender, left you breathless and yearning for more.

You should've tried harder, fought against the voice in your head screaming for you to push him for more. More than just kisses and the warmth of his fingers. The voice urged you to regain control of your limbs, unbuckle his pants, and feel the part of him you'd missed the most--but you couldn't.

All you could think of is how much you've missed this—how every touch, every whisper felt like it had been too long in coming.

"It's been too long," he murmured, completing your thought as if reading your mind. His left hand rested on the base of your throat, the metal of his rings cool against your overheated flesh. His thumb pressed gently against your chin, tilting your face upwards, compelling you to meet his gaze. His touch was both commanding and reassuring, reminding you of the depth of your connection and the longing that has only grown in the time apart. "You missed me?"

Your response fell short of what he wants. The soft nod of your head, before it lulled back to rest against the door was not what he wants. He wanted to hear the tremble in your voice, the shift in octaves, that replayed on a loop in his mind when he tried to recreate the warmth of your touch in his bed alone. He wanted to see the clouded mixture of lust and pleading in your eyes as your hooded gaze holds his, but your eyes are gripped shut denying him what he wanted.

Instead, you responded by gripping his wrist, keeping him in place as he attempted to slow his pace. Your hips rolled desperately, attempting to matching the circles he drew against your skin. 

His chuckle washed over you. His lips warm against the corner of your mouth. Despite your attempt of control, he easily regained it. His touch drifting from your clit, dragging painstakingly slow along the outside of your folds.

"Seems you've forgotten a few things. Hm?"

His touch is meticulous, never brushing against the spot you need, leaving you yearning for more. He kissed your lips slowly, the tenderness of the gesture both soothing and electrifying. Sucking against your bottom lip, he repeated the action as your hips instinctively jerked seeking the high slowly threatening to slip away.

With a soft, commanding tone, he told you, “Lemme see those pretty eyes.”

As you obey and lift your hooded lids, his smile widened with a mix of satisfaction and adoration. It’s a smile that starts in his eyes, which crinkled slightly at the corners, and spread to his lips, revealing a hint of his teeth. The smile is warm and genuine, a reflection of the affection and pride he feels as he takes in the sight of you. The pride he feels in knowing that no other man had the same effect on you. There’s a touch of playfulness in his expression, as his tongue passed over his lips.

“Attagirl,” he murmurs softly, his touch returning to your clit.

The content giggle that escaped your lips, melted into a breathless moan coaxing his finger between your slick folds. It was a sound he'd chase until the end of time. Once it was unlocked, he knew soon the sound of his name on your lips would follow.

"...that's what I've missed," Lewis hummed.

[thecapodomme]

The Muse Part I

The Muse Part II (Coming Soon)

Need You (Coming Soon)

[jasonsthighholsters]

all comic fans know how to do is: develop superiority complexes based on their personal perceptions of a character, eat hot chip, and lie

[megamindsecretlair]

So um I’m kinda obsessed with Aaron and that fic you just wrote kinda makes me feel like I’m going through withdrawals😂😂….. so um are we gonna get the part where he eats her like a full meal cause um yea (Love your writing btw❤️)

A/N: Not with that dynamic, anon, but how about this one??

Let Me Take Control

Pairing: Toxic!Neighbor!Terry Richmond x Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. SMUT. PWP, cursing, PIV, fingering (female receiving), oral (fem receiving), teasing, size kink, dirty talk, degradation kink, praise kink sprinkled in, rough sex, persuasion, reader is able to be picked up, use of n-word, all consensual.

Summary: Your fine as hell neighbor, Terry, hits you up late at night with a text. Already knowing what’s ‘bout to go down, you invite him over and get yourself ready for an unforgettable night.

Word Count: 3,807k

AO3 Link

A/N: MISS HIMMMM. I watched Rebel Ridge for the (mindyabidness) time and I neeeeeeed him! WHEW! Ya'll blew my first fic up, and YALL. Don't make me cry with all your sweet words! Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment, gif, or unhinged ask.

That Munch: You up?

Your phone chimed and you flipped over in bed, reaching for your phone on your nightstand. You opened the message to see a text from your fine ass neighbor, Terry. You popped up in bed, bouncing with the effort as you turned on the lamp.

Cool light flooded the room, taking mercy on your sleep deprived eyes. You pulled the bonnet off of your head and assessed your hair. It was currently coiled into a bun to keep it neat, but your braids were recent and still fresh. Good, you were gonna need that extra strength. 

You bit your lip as you texted back.

You: What’s up?

That Munch: Can’t sleep.

Your heart skipped a beat. Terry said the two magic words that got your blood thumping. Your core heating up to dangerous levels. You hopped out of bed and ran to the bathroom to freshen your breath and relieve yourself. 

You washed your hands and looked at yourself in the mirror. Terry’s brain needed to be studied. It was like he knew what you were missing without even having to ask. Or think about it. You were just tossing and turning in bed, sleep eluding you for the hundredth time. You were running through possible solutions when that little chime and those two words fell from the sky like a divine intervention. 

You texted back, feeling a little giddy that he was up and willing. You’d been like two ships passing in the fog lately. Always arriving or leaving a touch out of sync with each other. He would just be getting in the elevator when you left your apartment. He was just closing his door when you were emerging from yours.

And once inside, you usually kept contact to a minimum. Tried to put Terry into a box. Firmly in the neighbors with benefits column. He was too fine. Too hot. Too intense to ever be a regular thing. You couldn’t stand it. Looking at that man night and day? Please, you’d die. 

You paced the room in your oversized T-shirt and panties, biting your lip as you waited for the short trek through his apartment, out of his door, and the knock on yours. When it came, you skipped to the front door on a bed of nerves. Each footfall felt like lead and each heart beat felt like a stab in your chest.

You opened the door and leaned your head against it. “Hey stranger,” you said, keeping your cool around this man.

You were terrible at it, actually. Terry blinked those pretty electric eyes at you and entered your apartment. You closed the door behind him and locked the door, taking the time to admire his back side. He didn’t wear anything but some long joggers that cupped around his ankles. His ass was well rounded, looking good enough to bite. One side was slightly higher on his calf and for no reason at all, it was the hottest thing ever. 

He turned around and his eyes softened. “Were you sleep?” He asked. 

His voice alone sent shivers down your spine. On the inside, you were screaming. He was too damn hot to be real. He was like a marble statue made real. He moved with care. Purposeful. You shook your head and with it your thoughts. “You know that ain’t true,” you said.

“Why didn’t you text me?” He asked. He stepped closer, crowding into your space. The door was the only thing holding you up at the moment. He approached, stepping into your personal space. Close enough to feel the heat radiating off of his smooth skin. 

You shrugged. “‘Case you were busy. I came home late tonight,” you said.

Terry smirked and tilted his head. “Has that ever stopped us before?” He asked.

You shook your head. Terry bent his head down and kissed your cheek. You gasped, lips parting as he left behind tingles. Your breathing began to hurt your lungs, breathing too fast and too hard. He hadn’t even done anything yet. 

“You been tossing and turning when you know I’m right next door? Willing? Eager?” He asked. 

You shivered even though he was hot enough to fill the room. You kept your hands down at your sides. If you started touching him now, this would be over before it started. His shoulders were broad, honed, sculpted. His full lips glowed in the low ambient light in your living room. 

“Terry,” you said, more of a warning than a plea. This was why you didn’t call him. This was why your brain didn’t even give you that option. It always felt like you were taking advantage, knowing he wanted more and you continued to toy with his feelings.

It wasn’t on purpose. You truly couldn’t decide to take that ride with him or not. If you were ready to be with someone so grown. So in control. You were used to little fuckboys who played in your face. Who were bigger drama queens than you were and that shit didn’t fly.

But Terry? Terry was a different breed. Falling into his lap was almost an accident. You were smart enough to know your limits but dumb enough to toss them right out of the window. 

Terry took your hand and led you away from the door. You smiled at him as he moved without light to your bedroom. You supposed each layout of the apartments were about the same, with some variations. Did that mean his room shared a wall with your bathroom? The thought alone had you biting your lip picturing him all glistening wet. 

Inside your bedroom, Terry spun you around and pulled you against the nearest wall. He smirked at you and then he leaned down, bringing his lips to yours but not kissing you. You pouted when you caught up and looked at him.

“I missed you too,” he said. 

You took a deep breath and laughed. “I didn’t say that,” you said. 

“You were thinking it,” he said. He blinked slowly, lips touching but not completely. You couldn’t feel the full weight of them and you leaned forward, trying to close that distance. Terry leaned out of the way at the last minute, making you grunt.

“You want to fall asleep or not?” You asked, sucking your teeth. Trying to hide how turned on you were. How needy. You could feel your slick leaking out of you and you just needed some damn friction.  

Terry’s eyes narrowed. His hand slipped around your throat with such ease, you didn’t even feel him moving. “Who you think you talkin’ to like that?” He asked. 

You moaned, eyes crossing at the slight pressure. “You got an attitude with me?” He asked.

You tried to shake your head. Ah, shit. It was one of those nights. You moaned even though you shook your head again. You didn’t mean to get him riled up so quickly. 

“You sure? You talkin’ real reckless for someone who want they pussy licked, huh?” He asked. He squeezed your neck and you threw your head back, placing a hand on his chest. You couldn’t take it. You were on fire. Licks of flame made its way through your veins. 

“I’m sorry!” You moaned. 

Terry chuckled and finally kissed you, bringing you forward by his grip on your throat. “You lucky I’m just hungry tonight.”

“Oh fuck,” you moaned.

Terry released your neck and dropped to his knees. He was still tall as hell, so it didn’t really look like he knelt. The look in his eyes at this angle had you sighing. He didn’t have a merciful bone in his body. Even on his knees, looking up to you, he looked defiant.  Challenging. Like he wanted you to fight him because he knew that he’d win. 

Terry’s big, strong hands came around to cup your ass. He separated your ass cheeks, giving it a full squeeze, before releasing. Your ass jiggled and Terry hummed and kissed your belly. 

“When you gon’ stop playing with me?” He asked. 

You cupped his cheek and scratched at his beard. He closed his eyes and hummed, a deep rumbling in his chest. Almost like he was purring. 

“Not now, Terry,” you said. You were too lost in the sauce. Too lost in the depth of those eyes. Swirls of brown and blue and green, like he contained the world in them. You’d agree to anything right now and he didn’t need to know that.

Terry lifted your shirt, kissing all over your stomach. He left fat, wet kisses on your skin. You ran your nails across his fade, filling the slight ripples. His hair was coarse, feeling like heaven against the palm of your hand. Terry moved lower and pulled your leg over his shoulder. 

He pushed your panties to the side, taking a deep breath and moaned. “Smell so fuckin’ good,” he said. His tongue darted out and licked you from entrance to clit. You yelped and collapsed against him, leaning all of your weight on him.

Terry hummed, purred, and placed a hand on your belly and pushed. You fell back against the cold wall, yelping from the shock of it. Terry kept one arm under your leg, supporting your hip from the back. His other flattened across your belly, pushing you against the wall and stabilizing you.

“I was laying in my bed, trynna think of what would make me go to sleep. And then, I started thinking about this pretty pussy,” he said. He began to eat you out and talk through it, dragging his lips. He spoke these words into your pussy like he was writing affirmations into your skin with his tongue. 

“About how you get so wet, so quick. My favorite is when you start leaking down your leg,” he said. At the end of the sentence, he sucked on your clit and you cried out, gripping his shoulders and trying to push. He held you down, held you open, while he purred.

“I like knowing you get so needy, you can’t help it. You’d fuck anything nearby, wouldn’t you?” He cooed into your pussy. 

Your teeth chattered as he licked and prodded at your entrance, gathering up your essence, and suckling it all down. He moved back up to your clit, playing with the swollen nub with the tip of his tongue. You shivered against him and he moved with you, dodging your attempts to turn to mush in his arms. 

“And then I started thinking, hmmm, I need that. I need to bust down that throat. Or maybe save this load for this pussy. She look hungry,” he said, moving his lips between your folds. 

“Oh god, oh god,” you moaned. The fire he started went straight to your lower belly, clenching painfully as you neared an orgasm. Why was it so difficult to maintain a cool exterior with this man? In no time at all, he already had you screaming to the heavens. Screaming for any neighbors to hear that he was hand delivering pleasure.

His hand squeezed your ass and you moaned, biting your lip painfully. His lips began smacking, suckling on your clit and releasing it with a loud smack. Your clit throbbed, uselessly clenching around nothing. 

“Please, Terry, oh god, please, please,” you begged. 

“Keep begging, baby, shit turns me on,” he said, repeatedly suckling your clit. 

“Oh fuck,” you moaned, finally letting the climax take over. You shook and shivered, flopping against the wall and turning boneless. Terry kept up with your flopping, chuckling evilly as he continued to eat you out while you spasmed on him. 

“That’s it. That’s it, beautiful. Let all that shit go,” he whispered into your pussy. You didn’t know how you heard him. Perhaps he was just that good. Just that in control. That deep voice was lower than sin as he whispered against your clit, rolling his tongue. 

You looked down at him and his eyes snapped to yours. Eyes soft. Pretty ass eyelashes. He was perfect. Too perfect. Your body stopped flopping and you panted, huffed, as you came down. Terry slowed his tongue against your clit, flattening his tongue against and making you jerk. 

His heavy breaths fanned across your pussy and you moaned, writhing against him. “Fuck, Terry,” you said. 

Terry kissed your thighs, leaving a trail of wet kisses. He continued up to your belly, lifting your shirt with his head and he came up further. Your leg slid from his shoulder down to his  side, and wrapped around his leg as he stood up. 

He gripped your chin and pulled you into a kiss. You smelled and tasted yourself on him, your slick on his beard. You moaned, turning the kiss nasty as you played with each other’s tongues. 

Terry broke the kiss and smirked at you as he hooked his thumbs into your panties and tore them from your legs. 

“Hey!” You yelled, slapping his shoulder. Terry smirked, licked his lips, and stuffed the panties into your mouth. You smelled your arousal, your essence, and you moaned. 

“You like it,” he said with a shrug. 

You rolled your eyes, lifting your hand to pull your panties out. Terry snatched your wrist, pulling it above your head. Before you could lift the other, he snatched that one too. He kept both in one hand, and then stuffed your panties further into your mouth. 

“When you gon’ say yes and let me play in these guts whenever I want?” He asked.

You groaned and closed your eyes to the onslaught of pleasure. His voice found your off switch, making your brain fritz out over hearing his words. “Not now, Terry,” you said, voice muffled by the panties. 

You breathed harshly through your nose, rubbing yourself against him. He was so tall, so big, so thick. 

“Why not now?” Terry asked, nudging his nose against yours. He kissed the corners of your mouth, kissing your jaw below your ear, and then nibbling on your earlobe. 

He used his free hand to lift you on top of him and you wrapped your legs around his waist. His impressive bulge slotted between your legs and you moaned, rubbing yourself against him. Fuck, he made you needy. Wanton. Like you truly grew dumb, replaced with nothing but your baser instincts. To fuck. To grind. To toot your ass in the air and let him do whatever he wanted. Whatever he asked for. 

“What’s holding you back from me? From this? From fucking you in the morning, fucking you at night, in between meals when I need to get inside you. I know you feel this too,” he said. He moved his joggers down, exposing his huge dick. 

“Fuck,” you moaned, rubbing against him. Your pussy smacked as he tapped his tip against your pussy. 

“She nice and loud tonight,” he said. 

Your legs shook as Terry moved his dick through your folds, getting the tip of him wet before pushing in.

“Oh shit, shit, shit,” you moaned, throwing your head back against the wall. He was so big. “Fuck, fill me up, fill me up.” 

Terry groaned as he pushed inside, rolling his hips to sink inside. To bury his shaft deep and touch a that part inside. The part only he could touch. You tried going on dates with other guys. You tried convincing Terry and yourself that you were for the streets. Wasn’t no nigga gon’ play ‘round you no more. 

But they all fell short. They all were measured against Terry and were found lacking. Incomplete. With a look, Terry could have you whining and fucking yourself on him like a horny dog. 

“You could have this whenever you want,” he said. He began to stroke, proving that what came before were merely foreplay. He snapped his hips, pumped his arms and slammed you on his dick. 

You moaned and grunted on his dick, crying, shaking, gripping onto him for dear life. He was the only one capable of delivering this type of pleasure. He leaned down and buried his nose into your neck, absently kissing you. Licking the rapid pulse in your neck. 

“Terry, please, not-now,” you moaned. You didn’t know if he knew what you were saying considering the gag. Every inhale brought a fresh wave of your scent to your nostrils and you moaned. His moans mingled with yours, sliding more easily inside of you as your essence flooded his dick. 

“Say yes, baby, say yes. Say yes for me. Say yes for Daddy,” he said, snapping his hips faster.

He fucked you furiously against the wall, slamming inside of you while placing tender kisses against your neck. Under your ear. Moving along your jaw. He clamped his teeth down on your panties and pulled it from your mouth. He leaned down and kissed you. Kissing those sweet lips. Playing with his rough tongue. His mouth was a gift from God himself. 

You wrapped your arms around his neck. He moved his hands to your ass and smacked it, causing the sound to echo in your bedroom. “Oh fuck, Terry!” 

Terry smacked your ass again. “What you s’posed to call me?” He asked.

He dropped you against his dick, pouding against that deep spot inside of you. The pitch of your moans changed, turning higher and faster. Coming quicker than you can breathe. 

“There it is. But you gon’ have to earn this second nut,” he said.

You pushed feebly against his shoulders. Not to get rid of him but you needed some kind of release. Something to make the pressure pop. You forced yourself to breathe, to gulp in air. 

“Please, Daddy,” you moaned, turning wet, glistening eyes to him. 

A tear escaped your eye and Terry licked it off of your cheek. He purred, dick throbbing inside of you. 

“Be good for me and say yes. Say yes to getting dicked down every night. On demand,” he said.

“I can’t,” you moaned, shaking your head back and forth. 

He found a good rhythm, hitting your spot and making you moan every time he did it. Sweet, musical moans that sounded good even to your own ears. He was fucking you too well, had you clutching onto his neck. His thighs were like steel, effortlessly holding you and slapping against your ass. 

“Sure you can, you wanna cum, right? That’s why you opened the door for me? That’s why you’ll always open the door for me? ‘Cause you know I dig this shit out right. You know you can’t find another nigga ready to treat you like this. Give you what you need. What you crave. Like a good little fuckin’ slut,” he said.

He abruptly pulled out of you. “No!” You screamed. 

Terry chuckled as he carried you to the bed. He laid you down, pushing your shirt up enough for him to see your titties. 

He spread your legs wide and slid back inside you like he never left. He rutted inside you, increasing his pace now that he didn’t have to support your weight. He was relentless, moving his hand up to rub your clit.

Your thighs snapped shut, trapping his hand. “Open that shit back up. Now!” He barked.

You whimpered and whined as you fought against your body, opening your legs even though you wanted to stall him. Hold him off. “Move that hand before I move it for you,” he said.

You sniffled, hot all over and sweaty all over. You moved your hand, lowering it to the covers and grabbing a handful. “Fuck! Please, Daddy!” You moaned. 

Terry pushed your legs until they were practically at your chest. He slapped your ass a few times. Each slap was worse than the last, lighting your ass up like a Christmas tree. 

You yelled out, cried out, pleaded with him while he continued to smack your ass and dig in your guts. You felt him deep inside, throbbing, pulsing. 

“Please, give meeee,” you moaned. 

Terry chuckled. He flicked his thumb against your pussy, your slick making your pussy sound louder. Wetter. 

“Hear how she sings? You gon’ take this dick and still lie to my face?” He asked.

You shook your head. “Not-lie,” you huffed. Fuck, you were close. You were so close. You clutched at the covers, at the sheets, clawed at anything close by. 

“You want that shit, then you say the magic words. I’m tired of waitin’,” he said. 

You sniffled. Aw hell. There was no use fighting anymore. It was clear that Terry was the only one for you. He was the only one who knew exactly what to do, what to say. He was a man. All over. 

You leaned on your elbows and stared in his face. “Fuck me, Daddy, like I’m yours. ‘Cause I am,” you said. 

“You mine?” He asked, grinning wide and stealing your breath away. Fuck, he was so pretty. So beautiful. 

You nodded. “I’m yours,” you said.

“This pussy mine, too?” He asked. He pressed on your clit and you moaned loudly. You lifted your hips, needing him to do that shit again. He obliged, pressing on your throbbing clit. 

“Yes, Daddy, all yours,” you agreed. You’d agree to steal the moon for him if he would just let you cum. If he would grant his permission. 

“Good, then cum on this dick like a good slut,” he said. He kissed you, changing the angle of his hips and snapping against your sweet spot. You came instantly, legs shaking, pussy gripping him tightly.

“That’s it. Squeeze that fuckin’ dick,” he moaned against your lips. He palmed your tits, kneading, pinching your nipples and making you grip him even tighter. 

“Make me feel that,” he cooed as he thrust one more time and exploded inside you. His pulsing cum painted your walls white. 

Terry moaned, face falling into bliss as he came. He was even more beautiful like this. Undone. Unleashed. Untethered to that iron clad control of his. He scrunched his face up, like it felt too good. Too amazing.

“Ohh, good girl, good fuckin’ girl,” he moaned, kissing your forehead. You huffed, panting, sweating. Your skin turned clammy, the pressure gone from earlier. 

Your pussy squelched as Terry softened, pulling out of you. His cum gushed out, leaking down your ass and onto the bed. Terry kept your legs spread, watching as he leaked out of you. 

“Tomorrow night. Me and you. Date night. Then back here so I can fuck your brains out,” he huffed. He kissed your forehead and then pulled you into a sitting position. 

He caressed your chin and you fell forward, placing your forehead against his sculpted chest. “Yes, Daddy,” you said and kissed his belly.

“There’s my girl,” he said. 

There's more Terry! The Secret Terry Richmond Files

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[henneseyhoe]

Princess.

Trevante Rhodes x BLACK!FEM!reader

WARNINGS: SUB!reader, DOM!trevante, thigh riding, size kink, breeding kink, rough s*x, reader and Tre are married but it isn’t implied, daddy kink, no protection(wrap it before ya smack it), just really nasty chile…

SUMMARY: how Trevante acts with his pretty princess <3 (I was in heat writing this, sorry in advance)

Ps. Inspo from @notapradagurl7 recent fic <3

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He’s so exhausted when he comes home from his big boy job but seeing her gives him so much energy. He just wants to pull her into his lap and hold her, letting her ramble about her day and tell him all about the new things she learned and all the things she bought when she went out shopping.

“Tell daddy what you got” He’d say as she bounced excitedly on his thighs, innocent and unknowingly waking up a demon that was kept under wraps since early that morning. He just didn’t wanna wake his baby so early. She’d go on and on about all the cute clothes she found and the purses she bought online, the good food she ate and the nap she took before he arrived. He’d listen and pretend his dick wasn’t growing hard under her ass.

How he’d run baths for her when he was home, adding her favorite scent and bubbles to the water as she’d put her hair in a ponytail to avoid wetting it. She’d ask nicely to be carried to the tub because her legs were just too sore after being fucked until she blacked out and forgot her name. Her knees also aching from being on them for so long, taking his dick deep down her throat until she choked and a strong gag forced him to pull out before he was painting her face with his cum. She already felt so full of him even with his essence leaking out of her and dripping down her thigh, there was no way she would make it to the bathroom.

When she’d do something that was on the “no-no” list and he’d make her pick her own punishments. He’d ask if she deserved an easy one and she’d nod with teary eyes, already having a stinging bottom from the spankings he gave her earlier for touching herself while he was at work. He’d shake his head with a ‘tsk’ and simply throw her over his shoulder, carrying her to their playroom.

And that time she had made him play with her, forcing a game of hide and seek before he’d give up in frustration from not finding her for over ten minutes. She’d giggle and reveal she was hiding in the coat closet the whole time and as obvious as it was, he still hadn’t found her.

He wasn’t always a nice daddy. He had his limits when she just wouldn’t listen. Those were the times where he either made her cum back to back with no break until their sheets were soaking wet or he’d refuse to let her cum at all, watching her cry and beg as he’d take the vibrator away from her swollen and overstimulated clit any time she made that face.

He loved when she was desperate for him. She was just too cute. There were times where he’d go on business trips for days and come back to her needy than ever. She’d do anything for him just to have a simple touch.

When he suspected her to have touched herself in that time of need and he’d refuse to give her what she wanted, but he’d let her ride his thigh like the needy crybaby she was. Her panties were so damn wet that when she rose up off of him she left a wet spot on his slacks, proof of how much she had came just from that little bit of release.

“You miss daddy? I know you did, princess” He smiles, those pearly whites shining at her. She melts from the sight.

He loved her reaction when he’d fill her up unexpectedly. He slams into her with that last rough stroke and she’d let a small gasp fall from those plump lips that were once glossed before Trevante had basically kissed it all off. She could feel the liquid threatening to drip from her entrance and she could only hope that was what would get her pregnant with his baby.

She couldn’t help but think of carrying his seed and getting turned on. Sometimes she’d purposely make him cum inside of her so he’d go to work with empty balls and she’d get to run errands filled to the brim with him. Sometimes she’d even stop by a few maternity stores while she was at it too, just out of curiosity(not) before scurrying off to do something else.

He was so sweet. He’d buy her gifts she had been wanting for a long time, no matter how useless or weird it was to him or anybody else, he knew she wanted it and anything princess wanted, princess got. She even had her own room, decorated how she liked with her favorite colors and favorite things.

He was only ever rough with her when she wanted him to be, which was most of the time, but there were times where she wanted to be soft too, and he supplied that also. Some small gestures like fixing the bow in her hair or helping her reach something on the top shelf….or slowly fucking into her as he cradled her head in his large hands, looking into her soft eyes while she pouted, her tummy feeling butterflies every time he’d hit her special spot. He was so tired and fucked out, but he couldn’t stop until he and his princess was drained completely.

The way he ate her out alone was soft. He licked and slurped on her pretty little pearl, complementing her on how good she tasted and how daddy could eat her for hours. She would try not to close her legs and push him away.

✮✮✮✮

🏷️ @thatone-girly @notapradagurl7 @swavydadon @miyahmaraj @planetblaque @msinterludee @milkiboo @bloodripleygal @stevelacyballs @naj-ay444 @blackelysian @shaolyninferno

[halfrican-heat]

Backseat Driver (Ony)

Ony likes when you beg for a ride in his car.

A/N: Yes, I'm high. Hello. I am about to start posting these Onyankopon ideas I have in my head. This is the first one. Enjoy!

Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content; Vaginal Fingering, AFAB! Reader (breasts mentioned), Oral Sex (F receiving), Cursing, AAVE/Dialogue with Dialect, Public Sex, Overstimulation, Choking, Minor Oral Fixation, Minor dacryphilia (crying kink), Explicit depiction of Sex (p in v); Not beta'd, barely proofread (will update as needed later)

Pairing: Onyankopon x Black!Reader

WC: 3k

“Ony, please!”

Your voice comes out breathless and high-pitched as another orgasm courses through you. Ony lifts his head from your drenched cunt, a Cheshire grin on his face. He slides two fingers inside your wetness with ease and chuckles at the way your walls clamp around his digits. 

His car is pulled off into a hidden spot on the side of the road— not easily seen from the highway. He has your bodycon dress bunched up to your waist, the top pulled down to expose your breasts as he finger-fucks you.

Ony takes in your tear-streaked face, the sight going straight to his dick.  

“What’s that, mama?” He teases. “I can’t understand you.”

You whimper as his fingers work in and out of you at an agonizingly slow pace.

“You was talkin’ all that shit earlier. Distracting daddy from his business, right? Say somethin’ now.”

Your hand shoots to grip his bicep as the other goes for the car door behind you, nails scratching at it helplessly. 

“Daddy, please,” You whine, tears leaking from your eyes. “Let me ride. Need to feel you this time.”

He smirks, shaking his head. 

“I ain’t tryna hear that. Them pretty tears ain't gonna faze me, baby. Say you sorry to daddy for distracting him.”

His fingers shift position, finding that spot deep inside that makes you see stars. A guttural moan rips itself from your throat, sounding like music to Ony’s ears. His fingers work faster, rushing you toward another finish. 

“Wait, daddy! Wait- I’m sorry, daddy,” you cry, running from his punishing fingers

He yanks you back down using his free hand while his thumb starts to circle your overstimulated clit. 

“For what?” Ony demands, his voice low and sexy. 

“F-for distracting you on your business.”

His fingers stop moving entirely and you can’t decide what’s worse— the overstimulation or nothing happening at all. You clench around his fingers helplessly. 

Ony moves his free hand to your neck, forcing your head up so your dazed eyes meet his. 

“And?”

You take a shaky breath, licking your lips. Ony looks delectable, barely breaking a sweat as he tortures you within an inch of your life. His chain glints in the sunlight and the urge to pull into your mouth rolls through you. He tilts his head, looking at you expectantly. You swallow thickly. 

“For sayin’ I could find someone else to fuck me.”

His hand around your throat tightens slightly. His gaze is darker, more dangerous than before. 

“Why?”

You bite your lip, a soft moan escaping you. 

“‘Cause this pussy is yours, daddy.”

“You damn right,” He rasps, releasing your throat. 

You fall backwards slightly and watch with hooded eyes as his hands go to undo his belt. He frees himself from the confines of his jeans, pulling you over him like it’s nothing. His grip on your hips is tight as he holds you over his length, teasing your folds with his fat tip. 

The sound is lewd and wet as Ony gets himself ready for your creamy cunt. Then, without warning, he pulls you down on his length and grins widely at your scream as he impales you. 

Your head swims as you adjust to him, squeezing tightly around his cock. His jaw clenches as he watches your head loll back, overcome with pleasure. Ony grabs your jaw, pulling your head forward. 

Your gaze is unfocused as he slides his fingers in your mouth, rubbing them against your tongue. You taste your previous orgasms on his fingers. Your lips close around his digits, sucking without being told to. 

“That’s my baby,” Ony groans, barely containing himself. 

He pulls his fingers from your mouth, snaking his hand behind your head. He pulls you in for a nasty kiss, his tongue sliding in your mouth easily. He bites your bottom lip as you separate, his eyes lust blown. His free hand finds your ass cheek, smacking hard before squeezing.

“C’mon,” Ony says. “Ride your dick, mama.”