#Terry Richmond x Black!reader

[megamindsecretlair]

'Twas the Night

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. FLUFF, SMUT. Cursing, teasing, PIV, oral (male and female receiving), fingering (female receiving), minor OC lore (sorry!) Use of pet name. Mentions of the n-word, all consensual. Bad jokes, a different side to Terry. Sorry if I missed some. (Some meta jokes and winks and self-indulgent asf)

Summary: Treating yourself to a winter writing getaway, you are startled when the homeowner forgot to mention the 6’3 handyman that came by to fix things around the house. You find an unlikely friendship with the man, opening up about your romance novel. But when you confess that you need some inspiration, Terry is all too happy to be of service. 

Word Count: 19,198k

AO3 Link

A/N: WHEW. Forgive me for being late, I was nervous about this one. It's self-indulgent like a MF. I love this Reader and Terry SOOOO bad. I had a hard time letting this one end. So I hope you enjoy it as much as I did! Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment, gif, or unhinged ask.

Snow crunched under your tire as you pulled up to the quaint cabin at the top of the mountain. You leaned forward in your seat, looking up at the address to make sure it matched. It did. This was the place.

You were glad the outside matched the picture. You couldn’t count how many times you arrived at an Air B&B, just for the lister to pull some fuck shit. 

For now, it looked like it lived up the hype. And you made it in time to watch the sun set over North Carolina a little later. You gripped the steering wheel and squealed with delight. This was perfect. Absolutely perfect. 

You rolled your truck up to the small, attached garage and got out of the car. You went up the wooden steps to the wide porch that looked ripped from a magazine. There was a hunter green swing set with a pillowed pad on top of the bench. It even had cute throw pillows to match. 

Per the owner’s instructions, you were able to easily find the key box disguised as a lantern. You unscrewed the false bottom, retrieved the key and garage door opener, and replaced the bottom. 

You headed back to the awaiting truck, looking back at the cabin. You still couldn’t believe that this was all yours for the next two months while you worked on your latest novel. Your family was sad about you missing Christmas and New Year’s with them, but you had all grown out of the traditions. There was no point to be around just to be around. 

By the end of this, you were going to have a rough draft to show your agent. That was a guarantee. You pulled your beanie down before getting back in your truck and pulled into the garage.

You entered and turned on lights as you went through the house, familiarizing yourself with the layout and decor. The owner went with a sage green theme, the cabinets in the kitchen painted to match the small fireplace in the living room adjacent to it. There was a throw blanket in the living room with the same color and you had a hunch that the bedroom would be much the same. 

The cabin held two distinct buildings with a short hallway to connect it. The bedroom was modest, room enough to not feel claustrophobic but it wasn’t huge either. You checked and true to form, the bedroom held nothing electrical in it. 

The king sized bed was almost too big for the room, but it really brought everything together. And yes, there was a sage green throw across the foot of the bed. The artwork on the walls were as non-offensive as possible, full of pictures of trees and animals. 

You pulled your phone from your jacket pocket and started recording. “Hey ya’ll, I made it safe and sound. And it’s like the pictures so it’s not a scam! I am loving all these windows but ugh, can these people do anything other than white curtains, white sheets, and pastels? Like damn, I don’t know if I feel safe around all this white!” 

You giggled as you went through the house, checking things out but mostly checking for anything weird or creepy. No cameras, no drilled holes, no false paintings. You showed a few things around the house and then flipped the camera towards you.

“I am signing off, my loves. I’ve got my inspection to do. Love you bunches, I hope to be two-hundred and seventy pages heavier after this!” You blew a kiss into the camera and then sent it to your friends and family. 

Almost immediately, your mom started in on the issue with you being out in the mountains by yourself. Your sister piped in to remind your mom that you were grown, still in the state, and it was pretty sexist to say a woman needed a man to protect her all the time. 

“Exactly,” you agreed out loud. You put up your phone and then really got to business. You took off your purple jacket and hung it on the coat rack by the door. You took off your purple hoodie and hung that up as well.  

You put on your headphones and your favorite cleaning playlist, full of hip hop and R&B oldies. Then, you retrieved cleaning supplies from your car and went through the house with a fine-tooth comb.

Some may call you…odd. And that was fair. You knew how annoying you could be about cleanliness, but you just really wanted to avoid getting sick. You turned into an entire baby when you got sick and considering no one was around to give you said princess treatment, it was best to remain healthy.

That and people were just plain fucking nasty. 

Luckily, it seemed like this cabin was professionally cleaned. You mostly sanitized every surface you could find, dancing and shaking your booty to the songs as they came on. “Never Too Much” by Luther Vandross came on while you were mopping the kitchen. 

You danced around the small kitchen in your mop slippers, singing into the mop handle as if it were a microphone. You sang along with Luther at the top of your lungs, badly, and let the song keep you energized. 

You headed to the bedroom with a black light to check over the sheets and mattress. There were a few specks of mysterious origins which was to be expected, but the mattress was fresh. The sheets were clean as well, but you weren’t going to hop in someone else’s sheets anyway. 

You hauled deep rose bedding into the room from your car and made up the bed how you liked. You brought your own pillows as well, fluffing it on top. Now the space was starting to feel comfortable. Your anxiety lowered inch by smooth inch. 

You looked around the bedroom, scanning for anything you might have missed. Your eyes caught on the window, on the mix of oranges and pinks. 

“Shit!” You screamed as you tore through the house, towards the kitchen, and made you a quick cup of tea. You doctored it how you liked and then added cold water. You took the mug and your own blanket outside to the back porch. 

The owner had built another world in the backyard. The patio was covered with an awning that connected to the house. There were egg chairs and a sofa set up around a stylish oak table. Plants sat in planters around the area and there was a rug underneath the table. Fairy lights were strewn about giving the space a warm glow.

“Oh fuck yessss,” you groaned, sitting down in the comfy egg chair and looked out over the open back yard. The grass was vividly green, swaying slightly with the light breeze. Woods encroached the perimeter, thick with leaves and underbrush. Anything could be out there, adding to the mystery and awe it inspired. 

You draped the throw around your shoulders and then sat in silence, watching the sunset. Soft blues were chased out of the sky by pinks, oranges, and the softest purples blending into the pitch black sky. 

Stars winked on as if there were tiny caretakers igniting each one. Your mind spun with idea after idea, but these you would let pass. Not everything had to be about writing. Some things just needed to be experienced. 

The tea kept you warm as the temperature dropped more and more. When your nose got too cold and you sniffed one too many times, you finally packed it in and went back to cleaning. Your playlist kept you upbeat as you cleaned out the bathroom.

Done with everything, you finally felt comfortable enough to shower. Scrubbing the day away with your favorite soap nearly made you ascend to another plane. You giggled to yourself as your mind spun once more, crafting a whole silly scenario just because. 

You sighed. You needed a man. Well, okay, ‘needed’ was a strong word. But you were giving up comedy gold over here. There should be someone around to witness it! Then again, did you really want to explain your quirks to someone? 

You shook your head. You were not here for all of that. You were here to get some much needed writing done away from your family and friends. You knew they meant well, but it was almost pathological with the way they relied so heavily on you. 

As much you knew that they loved you, you also wondered if they even saw you as a human being with your own interests. They knew you needed to write and yet they came bursting in anyway, calling, texting, bugging to no end. You were tired of explaining that you weren’t rejecting them, you just needed to focus on writing. 

Either they truly didn’t get it or they willfully ignored your needs. And you just didn’t have time for that. When your editor, Vanessa, suggested that you made enough money now that a writing retreat was well within your budget, it was like a wake up call. 

Of course. The solution was right there. You immediately hopped on Google to determine which place called to you more. You always wanted a winter writing escape and a few keystrokes later, you were on your way with your family scratching their heads. 

You dried yourself off in the bathroom and lotioned yourself up. You left the bathroom in a cloud of scented steam. You opted for a pair of panties and an oversized red T-shirt that reached down to your knees. The place had central heating but you didn’t want to turn it up too much. Just enough to warm the wooden flooring.

You spent the next hour making tacos, the heavenly aroma of meat and salsa making your mouth water. You cleaned as you went, not wanting to spend the next morning doing dishes. The cabinet below the sink squeaked and you debated telling Mr. Omar about it. It was something small but if you were going to be there for a while, you’d rather not deal with the inconvenience. Ehh, it was small. No need to bother the man for that. 

All done, you brought your plate to the living room and camped out, finding something to watch. You had been hearing so much about that show called Rivals on Hulu so you decided to watch it. When the first episode started, you screeched at the TV. It literally opened with someone joining the Mile High Club. 

For the rest of the night, you relaxed and zoned out. It was hard for you to truly relax, to truly turn your brain off and just enjoy something. But practice made perfect, so practice you will. 

When you yawned for the fifth time in two minutes, you finally gave up the ghost. You turned everything off and put up the food you made. Then you turned everything off as you headed down the short hallway to the bedroom. 

It was pitch black inside. Perfect. You only used your bedroom for sleeping and fucking. It signaled to your body that enough was truly enough. No distractions, no connections, nothing to prevent your body from sinking into sleep. And it worked every time. 

You crawled into the comfy bed, soothed by the familiar smell of your bedsheets. Your brain blissfully shut up and you fell into a lovely, dream-filled sleep. 

You woke up naturally early in the morning. The white curtains in this room were heavier than what was in the rest of the house, allowing limited lighting to reach the bed. Plus, the sun didn’t shine on this side so the added shade soothed your overworked eyes as soon as you got up. 

This…you sighed. This was what you needed. You felt so good having true silence for once. No one around, no one bugging you, no one bringing you into their drama, no one leaning on you, no one calling you. It got to the point where you were beginning to hate the sound of your name. Too many people used it to demand your attention, demand your time, and then curse you in the same breath when you retreated and wanted to recharge your mental batteries.

This would likely have to become a tradition. From now on, you would have to choose an Air B&B to get the first draft over with. At least after that, you had the idea out of your head and you could cobble it together among the noise of your demanding family. The brainstorming stage was the most crucial; you could not afford distractions.

You were itching to write but you knew that you needed to eat something first. You got up from bed, scratching beneath your bonnet as you picked your way down the short hallway to the other side of the house. 

A heavy boot clanged on something metal, drawing your attention to the kitchen where a tall man dug through your cabinets. You screamed, hopping in place from foot to foot. The man turned around with a jump revealing…a pretty face.

You ran towards the fireplace and grabbed a poker, brandishing it like a spear. “Who the fuck are you?!” You demanded, pulling your shirt down. Fuck. You should’ve worn pants. Well, no, fuck that, he shouldn’t be in your place! 

The man lifted his hands and revealed a screwdriver in his hand. “Wait, hol’ on,” he said. His deep voice was unexpected, sounding like a crack of fire on a cold, wintery night. 

You moved the poker around in the air, looking around for any other men that may be lurking. The cabin was small enough, the kitchen not too far from the living room. But, besides the bathroom, you could see everything at a glance. You looked out of the windows anyway, searching for any other cars or trucks outside. 

“I’m Mr. Omar’s handyman. He asked me to fix the cabinet,” the man said. His scruffy facial hair framed his symmetrical face and hid his lush lips. His eyes were intense, the color of a storm right as it kissed the ocean, and his eyebrows arched severely. He was unreal. But hot or not, he was still a stranger.

His eyes drew down to your legs and you tugged on your shirt as if you could conjure more material. “You think I’m going to buy that? What are you really doing here? You read his mail?” You asked.

You hadn’t seen any mail laying around the place when you cleaned the day before, but that didn’t mean anything. Maybe he dug through the trash or hacked Mr. Omar’s emails.

The man sighed and shook his head. “You watch too much TV,” he said. 

“And you need to answer my questions. Who the hell are you?” You asked. 

The man kept his hands up but lowered his elbows. “I’m the handyman,” he said, putting emphasis on the word as if that helped. “Terry.” 

You squinted at him as you looked around the living room for your phone. You had plugged it in before you went to sleep, but it was hard to look for it and keep an eye on the man. 

He watched you and tilted his head. You scowled. Was he just humoring you? If that motherfucker tried anything, he’d lose one of those perfectly sculpted eyes. 

You snatched your phone from the end table besides the couch. You held the poker up as a deterrent but the man - “Terry” - didn’t move. He watched you, hands up, calm as a cucumber. If he was a thief or a rapist, he was the worst one you’d ever seen. Or maybe he was the smartest. 

You sized him up as you dialed the homeowner’s phone number. “We’re gonna see about you, nigga,” you said. You brought the phone to your ear as Terry smirked. 

“I’d believe that more if your voice wasn’t so squeaky,” he said.

“I do not have a squeaky voice!” You yelled.

Terry smirked again, tilting his head as if you just proved his point. “Can I put my hands down?” 

“No,” you said. Mr. Omar didn’t answer on the first ring so you tried again. 

“Just like a chipmunk,” Terry said. Terry sighed and then leaned against the nearest sink, making you look at the full length of him. He wore dark wash jeans, heavy tan boots, and a black hoodie. He also wore a cream colored beanie pulled low over his head. It ought to be a damn sin to be so fine.

“Hello?” Mr. Omar’s accented voice came on the line. The subtle African pronunciations made you curious about where he was from but you were too chicken to ask. 

“Mr. Omar! There is a man in the rental claiming to be your ‘handyman’,” you said, managing to give Terry air quotes around the poker. 

Terry smirked and licked his lips, drawing attention to them. They were so pink and big. The more you paid attention to his features, the more striking he became. He looked like a painting made real. Or like one of those artist renditions of Egyptian royalty. 

“Ah yes, Terry-Terry. Good man,” Mr. Omar said. 

You sighed and turned your head. “What does he look like then?” You asked. 

The poker grew heavier now that Mr. Omar vouched for the man. However, you weren’t ready to lower it just yet. 

“Tall and like Mufasa,” Mr. Omar said. 

You snapped your eyes to Terry, comparing him to a lion. Nah, he was more like a Scar to be honest. But still, the image wouldn’t leave your mind and your thighs responded, tingling with awareness. 

You scowled at Terry who pressed his lips together. “Can I lower them now?” He asked, amusement written all over his face.

“Where’s your ID?” You asked. 

Terry sighed. “I’m not handing over my ID to a chipmunk,” he said.

You squeaked with an indignant huff and Terry shrugged his shoulders. “Is that all you need?” Mr. Omar asked.

“Why didn’t you tell me he was coming by?” You asked. You lowered the poker down by your waist, business end sticking out in case this Terry character wanted to try you. 

“Forgive me, my memory. I’m an old man,” he said. You rolled your eyes. He was far from an old man, in his early fifties and looked young enough to be a senior at college. The man kept himself fit and in shape, telling you all about his fitness journey during the many conversations you had about the property. 

“Right. Thanks, Mr. Omar,” you grumbled and hung up with him. Okay, so the man was legit. But that didn’t explain why he didn’t ring the doorbell. 

“I didn’t know anyone was here, I’m sorry. Just let me fix a few things on my list and I’ll be out your hair,” he said.

“Can’t you come back when I’m…” you trailed off and clicked your mouth shut. You were going to tell him to come back when your getaway was over but he didn’t need to know your timeline. He could swing back around and murk your ass. 

“When you’re done gathering nuts to hibernate?” He asked.

“Fuck you, I’m not a chipmunk,” you said, smiling despite yourself. 

Terry lowered his arms and then made a show of putting the screwdriver down. “Do I get to know your name?” He asked. 

You debated giving him even that much, but the manners that were drilled into you refused to let you be rude. You tugged on your shirt and his eyes followed the motion. His focus was…unnerving. You cleared your throat and told him your name. He repeated it one more time and you nodded, a tingle going up your spine at the way he rolled the syllables around with that slight Carolina accent. 

“Nice to meet you. Now that we’re good, can you point that somewhere else?” He asked.

You sighed and rolled your eyes. “Like you were even scared of it,” you said. You placed the poker down on the coffee table. The metal clinked against the glass top but your eyes were glued to Terry’s.

Terry chuckled and shrugged his shoulders. “You and your mouseketeers are s’posed to be good at fencing,” he said.

“You know what! You get on my damn nerves!” You said and laughed, giving in to his bad jokes. 

“Can I do my job?” He asked. 

You were still wary about him being in the house while you were practically naked. You glanced away from him, looking at how far the bedroom was. “How many things do you have to do?” You asked.

“Mr. Omar left me a honey-do,” he said. 

You sighed. You didn’t like this one bit. You hadn’t planned on having a visitor while you got into the rhythm of things. But you also didn’t want this man to come back. Though…that wouldn’t totally be the worst thing. 

You licked your lips and looked between him and the bedroom. You didn’t want to linger on him but fuck, it was like one look wasn’t enough. Every time you looked at him, you noticed something different about him. 

“Tell you what. I’ll spread it out. I’ll only do a few things at a time. Deal?” He asked. He held out his hand, beckoning you to come closer. That was how all horror movies started. The devil himself smirked at you and you scowled, understanding exactly how Eve broke. Had you been her, you wouldn’t have stopped at just the apple. 

“Deal, I guess,” you said. 

Terry lowered his hand and nodded. “Deal. You won’t even know I’m here,” he said.

Riiiiight. “Just…stay out here. I hear a boot coming down the hall and it’s game over,” you said.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, making his accent thicker. The mischief in his eyes made you scowl harder. But his eyes dropped lower and lower and you pulled on your shirt. 

You made a beeline to your room, slammed the door shut, and sighed heavily. This was unreal. Absolutely unreal. 

You grabbed the nearest pair of sweatpants, yanked it on, and then took a few more deep breaths. You listened for any sense of movement, any creak of the floorboards, or sound of breathing. When there wasn’t any, you cracked open the door. 

You headed towards the kitchen to find Terry exactly where you left him, bent over the cabinet as he fixed the hinge. At your approach, he stopped and looked sideways at you. His side profile was lethal, jawline sharp enough to cut glass. 

Your belly flipped and you held it like it was a traitor. As if it could give you away. You breezed past him and grabbed your laptop off of the kitchen island, clutching it to your chest as you carried it to the living room and curled up in the corner of the couch. 

From this angle, Terry couldn’t sneak behind you and you had a full view of him as he worked. You opened your laptop and opened up your notes for your latest novel. You had the major plot ideas down but you needed to flesh in your characters.

As you researched, adding pins on Pinterest for inspiration, you couldn’t forget that Terry was there no matter what else you did. 

He moved with grace like he was completely in tune with his body. The delicate way he held and used the tools drew your attention to his long, thick fingers. Every so often, his tongue stuck out of his mouth as he worked, screwing the bolt down or digging for another screw. He was a distraction and a half. 

“You need a picture?” 

You gasped as you blinked, coming back to reality. Terry looked sideways at you, his eyes low and sleepy-like. 

Wow, your thoughts were not holy. You mentally slapped some sense into yourself. This man was a stranger. A very fine, gorgeous stranger, but an hour ago, you thought he was going to kill you. Be so real right now.

“What?” You asked.

“You were staring,” he said.

“Was not,” you said and sat back on the couch.

“Was to,” he said, testing the cabinet by swinging it back and forth. It didn’t squeak so Terry dropped into a squat to investigate the cabinet below the sink. The stretch of the squat revealed a gorgeous ass to match.

That was it. The man wasn’t real. He had to be conjured from God’s own imagination. God was just showing out when he made Terry and it wasn’t fair. All that fine piece of meat…

Speaking of, you added “piece of meat” under your male character’s profile in your notes. “For your nosy information, staring off into the distance is part of my process. If you happen to step into my line of sight, that’s on you,” you said. 

“That right?” He asked and you could hear the humor in his deep voice.

“Uh-huh,” you said. You typed a few more notes, taking in tiny details about Terry. The slope of his shoulders. The curve of his brow. His high cheekbones. Your male character came together more quickly in your mind now that you had a model to work off of. 

The cabinet squeaked, breaking you of your thoughts. “It’s singing the song of your people, you know,” Terry said. 

You sucked your teeth and Terry chuckled. “Me and you are going to fight,” you said. 

“I got a ladder if you want to use it,” he said. 

You rolled your eyes and pinched your lips together. He was really going to make you scream. “Are you always this annoying?” You asked.

“I can be worse,” he said. 

You stared off into an invisible camera. You could hear the laugh track now. You shook your head and decided to ignore his shenanigans. You fell into a comfortable silence somehow, typing away as more and more ideas came to you. It was no longer weird that there was a strange man in the cabin. Despite being so big, he had an uncanny ability to take up as little space as possible. 

“What are you working on? You a writer or somethin’?” He asked. 

“Yeah, what gave me away?” You asked.

“The laptop,” he said.

You sucked your teeth and hid your smile behind your hands, pretending like you were suffering the sting of a thousand cuts. Terry chuckled. “I know you want to laugh,” he said.

“Do not,” you said and moved your hands, settling on a smile. That was all his fine ass deserved. 

“You write anything I may have read?” He asked. The hinge on the cabinet knocked against the wood as Terry pried it off with the screwdriver. His hands really were huge and you briefly wondered what it’d feel like wrapped around your ass. 

You pressed your thighs together and adjusted yourself on the couch. This man was proving dangerous afterall. One meeting with him and you were picturing disgusting scenarios to write. 

“Umm, no, my books wouldn’t be your speed,” you said. 

“I like nature though. I’m sure a chipmunk survival guide would be right up my alley,” he said.

“The door is right there,” you said, chuckling. He truly got on your damn nerves. But you wanted to hear more. His voice was smooth and deep, a weakness for sure. Your voice kink was in hyperdrive, teasing out every way he sounded out words and syllables to be replayed later in your mind. 

“C’mon, what do you write?” He asked. He glanced at you briefly before returning to replacing the hinge. He dropped to his knees as he worked, putting him in a position to arch his back. 

Mm, mm, mm. You eye-fucked him as he leaned forward, holding the hinge in place while he screwed in the first screw. He leaned back to dig into the tool box by his feet and you looked away, heat flashing over your skin. 

You did not know this man. You did not know this man. You did not –

“Not gon’ tell me?” He asked. 

“What happened to not knowing you were even there?” You asked. He was worse than your folks at home. If you wanted to be harassed, you would have saved yourself the money. 

“You’re the one staring,” he said.

You took a deep breath to keep from cussing. Maybe it was his face. Maybe he was too pretty to yell at. Or maybe he was so pretty it spurned you to want to hit him. Because as much as you wanted to smack him, you wanted to smack his ass even more. 

Sweet fuck you needed to get laid. Maybe you’d redownload that dating app your friends made you download after your last book. You deleted it because apparently, guys took offense when all you wanted was sex from them.

“I write books,” you said, chickening out at the last minute. It wasn’t exactly easy to tell people that you wrote explicit shifter romances. Urban fantasy settings let you have the best of both worlds. Modern technology combined with fantasy and magic, blended together, and created something that scratched all of your itches. 

“What kind of books?” He asked.

“Paperbacks,” you said.

Terry chuckled and shook his head. “If you don’t say, I’m going to start guessing,” he said. 

You groaned and Terry chuckled at your theatrics. You held up your hand. “Please, spare me. If you must know, I write romance novels,” you said. 

“Romance novels…like the ones where the guys have a forty inch dick, eight feet tall, and long flowing red hair?” Terry asked.

You howled with mirth as that image was now seared into your brain. “Ew, yuck! Why! Why would you make me picture that?” You asked when you had enough air in your lungs to breathe. 

“I’m just shooting the shit. That’s wassup though,” he said. 

“Thank you,” you said slowly, full suspicion. Terry chuckled but didn’t say anything further as he continued working on the cabinets. 

You went back to your brainstorming, filling in details about your female main character. You searched for her fatal flaw, the lie she told herself in order to survive before the meet cute with the main male character. 

You sighed. You ought to give them names. But you were not prepared to deal with the ads on Nameberry or clicking endlessly on name generators. But you couldn’t very well keep calling them ‘female main character’ and ‘male main character’. 

You brought up Nameberry first in the hopes that you’d find something quicker using the alphabet lists. A Q name would be cute. Qianna? Ugh, there weren’t many cute Q names. 

“I didn’t know writing could be so hard core,” Terry said.

You looked at him over the top of your laptop with a scowl. “Are you almost done? You’re stinking up the place,” you said.

Terry chuckled and shook his head. “I’ll finish out the cabinets and come by tomorrow for the shower and air filters,” he said.

“What’s wrong with the shower?” You asked. The way he said it…he could make even the most innocent words sound naughty. Because now, you were thinking of the shower. And him in the shower. And all those suds dripping down his naked body…

“Water bill is going up. So Mr. Omar wants me to check for a leak,” he said. 

You hadn’t noticed anything but you weren’t a professional handyman either. “How’d you come to be here, Terry?” You asked.

Terry slanted his eyes towards you. “Curious about me?” He asked.

You rolled your eyes. “I could go back to ignoring you,” you said. 

“I’d believe that if you weren’t staring so much.” 

You took a deep breath and Terry waved you off. “I’ll stop. I got into some deep shit a year back. I wanted to take my mind off it by being as busy as possible. Working with my hands relaxes my mind,” he said.

You nodded. You could respect that. “You live around here?” 

“Mr. Omar has another spot up the ways. I work on his properties and I get to stay for free,” he responded. 

You sighed wistfully. The things you would do to be able to have an arrangement like that. Only without the handyman part, because fuuuuuck that. “Your family doesn’t miss you?” You asked.

Terry took a measured breath and paused briefly inworking. He then screwed in the final screw and tested the cabinet door, no squeak to be found. “Naw. Not really,” he said quietly. 

Duly noted. Shutting up. This was why you weren’t that social. You had a particular knack for picking up on shit people didn’t want to discuss. You hid behind your laptop screen, hunting for more names for your main characters. 

Gabrielle was always a cute girl name to you. Now for the perfect boy name…Rashad…Theo…Wesley? Wesley and Gabrielle? That sounded kind of cute together. You put it on the list of maybes and continued hunting for different pairs just in case. Though each one you found didn’t spark as much interest as Wesley and Gabrielle. 

“I’m done for the day. In case you had a change of heart,” Terry said.

“Nice try. I didn’t get any work done because of you,” you said. 

Terry smirked, eyes crinkling in the corners. “Then my job’s really done,” he said. 

You groaned playfully and put your laptop down on the coffee table. You had pants on now but you still felt exposed. Like you were still standing there half-naked. Terry’s eyes tracked down your body as if he recalled your bare legs as well. 

You weren’t stupid. You knew he had a passing interest. But what man wouldn’t after living up in the mountains of North Carolina? You doubted he was starving for female attention and you had a book to finish, come hell or high water. Pretty distractions like him did you no justice.

You’d just have to pull out ole reliable, Laz Alonso. Thinking of that man already had you hot and bothered and the vibrator you brought with you would have to be more than sufficient to get you through the winter. 

You approached Terry cautiously as he packed away his tools. You openly stared at his backside as he closed the tool box and stood up to his full height. He was so damn tall. Guys like him just didn’t exist in real life. It wasn’t fair.

Terry walked to the front door ahead of you. You kept some distance, not wanting to give him a chance to get too close. Your alarms were still on high alert though he did a good job of putting you at ease.

As he crossed the threshold, your stomach rumbled. Loudly. In all the excitement and hubbub, you forgot to grab food. Terry turned to the sound, stopping a few feet from the front door. 

“There’s a bar down the mountain if you ever want to get out the house,” he said. 

You pinched your lips. “That doesn’t sound too bad. But maybe not today,” you said and leaned against the door jam. The cold air blew into the warm house, instantly raising goosebumps on your arms. 

Terry nodded. “You change your mind, let me know,” he said. “And if you notice anything that needs fixing, definitely let me know.”

You smiled. The thoughts he conjured…”Thanks, I truly appreciate it. But how would I let you know?”

Terry chuckled. He nodded towards the kitchen. “I left my number on the fridge. Need anything, just call.”

You glanced back towards the fridge and saw a few sticky notes on it. You turned to him and nodded. “I’m glad you turned out to not be a creep.” 

Terry nodded. “I’m glad you take your safety seriously. Most people don’t. Lock up after me,” he said. 

“Yes, sir,” you said, deepening your voice. 

Terry huffed a laugh and shook his head. “Can’t hide that voice, sorry,” he said. 

“Shut up! And get home safely, Terry,” you said. 

Terry took the steps down fast and then spun around to walk backwards. “Worried about me, chipmunk?” 

You rolled your eyes. “No, I’d rather not explain to Mr. Omar why his handyman couldn’t finish around the house,” you called out to him, raising your voice the further away he walked. 

He waved to you, making it to his truck parked a ways in front of the front door. It was a big blue truck with a larger bed than most you’ve seen. It suited him though. And his rugged appearance. He didn’t strike you as the type to drive a luxury SUV and complain about his shoes getting soaked through from the snow.

You went back into the warm house, shut the door, and locked it behind you. You tapped on it once, turning away with a smile. Now…down to real business.

True to his word, Terry came over nearly every day for the next two weeks fixing things around the house. He managed to find a way to annoy the ever loving hell out of you, but he also made you laugh so hard, you nearly snorted tea out of your nose. 

You found inspiration with the little things he did or said. Until “Wesley”, your male main character, started to move and sound like Terry in your mind. You would feel bad, except there was no chance in hell Terry would ever read this book. Ever. 

The beginning came together smoothly in your mind. Wesley, the too-serious wolf shifter investigator, was married to his work, only going home long enough to eat, shower, and sleep. Gabrielle, the famous tech genius by day, was also a major thief by night. And as a surprise to no one, Wesley didn’t know he was investigating Gabrielle’s latest crime, the theft of a magic orb from a private collection. 

Now…where could they bump into each other… a blind date sounded interesting to you but nothing too easy. Nothing too cliche. Hmm…grocery store? She stumbles upon him after shift? Maybe it’s a full moon and he protects her? 

You groaned and backspaced. You were thinking too hard on this one. This one wasn’t coming together in your mind. You looked back over your character descriptions; maybe there was something there to spark interest. 

Heavy boots stomped down the hallway from the bedroom as Terry had taken a look at the closet door. So many broken hinges. What were people renting this house for? Parties where they pretended to be animals, swinging from the ceiling? 

You snorted at your own joke just as Terry entered the living room. You looked at him and stopped laughing but Terry raised an eyebrow. “Don’t stop on my account,” he said. 

He chose a dark gray hoodie this time, the same cream colored beanie, and dark jeans. His toolbox was held loosely in his big hands, and your body flushed with heat. Lost in the brainstorming fog, you hadn’t had a chance to play with Laz and your body reminded you of that. Painfully. 

“All done in the bedroom?” You asked.

Terry eyed you and you blinked innocently at him. Even as his eyes made your pussy flutter. Down girl, down girl, DOWN girl…

“Done. Unless you found something I need to fix?” He asked. 

You squinted at him but for once, his face was unreadable. You couldn’t tell if that was supposed to be a double entendre or not. Maybe you were just a horny mess. You’d have to look at your period tracker to see if you were ovulating. Because at the moment, you were one step away from asking that man to fix your dripping pussy.

“No, no, no, no. All good,” you muttered. If you couldn’t get some, then at least you could write the filthiest things for Wesley and Gabrielle. As soon as you figured out how they meet. 

Terry moved into the kitchen, setting his toolbox down. “I’ll check the windows. There’s a storm moving up here in a week or so. You good on firewood?” He asked.

“I can’t just use the heater?” You asked. 

“What if the power goes out?” He asked.

“That really happens? Or are you trying to scare me?” You asked. Well damn. You didn’t have the power going out on your list of tragedies that could happen while you were out here. You knew it could happen but it was rare that you experienced it. One of the pitfalls of staying in someone else’s place. You didn’t have all of your emergency kits. 

There was one in your rental car but that was inadequate as hell. You sighed. Fuck. You were going to have to venture into town anyway. You glanced at your laptop. You had the major story beats fleshed out, but filling in the rest was giving you a headache behind your eye. 

Still, you itched to keep going after it with a hammer. You wanted to keep pushing yourself and see if you couldn’t solve your problem. It was like you just weren’t feeling this one for some reason, despite being overjoyed at the sexy idea.

“Not trying to scare you,” he promised.

You pouted. “I haven’t tried lighting a fire yet. So I don’t know about the firewood,” you said, feeling like you were five years old for not checking something so crucial. But! You would give yourself grace. You didn’t know before but now you’d make it a point to check everything before venturing off to la la land in your head. 

Terry nodded. “I’ll check then,” he said. 

“Thank you. Really,” you said.

“My pleasure, chipmunk,” he said with a chuckle.

“You get on my damn nerves!” You yelled after him as he left the house with a booming chuckle. You shook your head as you waited for him to return. 

Though this was meant to be a retreat for you, to explore on your own without the watchful eye of your family, you kind of liked having Terry around. He managed to pull you from your spiraling about your writing in the nick of time. You were able to return to your novel with a second wave of inspiration. 

But this meet cute was kicking your Black ass. Like this should have been the easiest part. But it was often the easiest parts that tripped you up the most. 

Terry reentered the house, kicking his shoes on the mat before stepping inside. The door banged shut behind him, a strong wind passing over you before dispersing in the warm house. 

“Firewood’s low. After it thaws a bit, I’ll chop more,” he said.

Mmm, Terry…chopping wood…mm, mm, mm. You had to go on a date with Laz tonight. Maybe a little post nut clarity would work in your favor. 

“Thanks. Is there anything I can get you from the store? I’ll need to head down the mountain after all,” you said.

“Road may be slippery right now. You’d be better off going tomorrow,” he said. He pulled his toolbox closer and flipped it open. 

You placed your laptop on the coffee table in front of you and then stood up, letting your inside throw blanket slip from your shoulders. You stretched, your limbs and back popping in some areas as you twisted one way and then another. 

You crossed closer to him, going towards the kitchen for a cup of tea. If you were going to brave the outside world, you’d need a little help. As the kettle warmed up on the counter, you faced Terry and leaned against the edge. 

How to put this without sounding batshit crazy? “It’s important for me to go today,” you said. “Preferably before the sun goes down.”

Terry scrunched up his face. “Is there a special vampire version of chipmunks I don’t know about?” 

“You get on my nerves!” You said and giggled. Terry smirked with you as you giggled and you slowly quieted down. You cleared your throat. “No, it’s just important. I do take my safety seriously. Maybe more so than most.” 

Terry eyed you with those beautiful eyes of his before nodding. “Alright, I’ll take you,” he said.

“Wait, what? No, no, no, that’s not what I meant. I can get down myself,” you said. 

“No one said you couldn’t. But the roads really can get slippery if you don’t know where to look. The snow doesn’t stick to the ground like it used to and it can make driving those twisting roads more dangerous.” 

You put your hands on your hips and stepped closer, nothing but the narrow corner of the kitchen island between you. “I don’t need a babysitter, Terry,” you said. 

Terry held up his hands. “I’m not a babysitter. I’m a handyman,” he said.

You pinched your lips together to keep from smiling. He was truly going to make you put him through the wall. 

“I wouldn’t feel right letting you go down the mountain by yourself. Not that you’re not capable. But because the roads really are that dangerous. And I’d rather not have to come dig your ass out of a ditch,” he said.

“Ouch,” you said, picturing just that scenario. The roads seemed like a twisty maze, full of sharp corners and narrow lanes. Driving up when the roads were clear in the morning hadn’t been that much of a hassle but you weren’t too sure about going back down. It was why you tried to bring as much stuff with you as you could, to avoid that exact circumstance.

“Go get dressed,” he said, his voice deep and commanding. 

You prickled. “Don’t tell me what to do,” you said. Did he hear the breathiness in your voice? Because holy hell. That voice needed to boss you around more often.

Terry lifted his sleeve to look at his watch. “Daylight’s wasting,” he said.

You scowled. “I’m getting dressed because I decided to and because I concede that I don’t know these roads that well. Not because you told me to,” you said. 

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, eyes dancing with mischief. Ugh. You bet he ran his mama ragged growing up. 

The kettle clicked as it was done, the boiling water settling down. You poured a mug full and took it with you to the bedroom and sipped it while you got dressed. 

You opted for a simple pair of jeans, boots, and your favorite purple hoodie. You didn’t know how Terry didn’t walk around with a jacket as well. Every bite of air you felt outside chilled you down to the bone. 

Leaving your bedroom, Terry eyed you up and down before jerking his head for you to follow. You locked the door behind you and then followed Terry to his truck. Your combined footsteps crunched on the snow underfoot, leaving footprints that quickly disappeared in the gentle snowfall. 

You looked up towards the sky, grinning at the overcast sky. Flurries floated down, landing on your cheeks, eyelashes, and lips. You licked away a snowflake that landed on you and looked towards Terry, smiling softly at you.

“You must think I’m silly,” you said.

“Not what I’m thinking,” he said. You stared but he didn’t say anything more. He just smirked and held open the passenger door for you. The truck was bigger up close and you had a hard time holding onto the door and climbing in.

“Here,” Terry said, gently sliding his hands around your waist. You looked over your shoulder at him. He was close enough to see how pretty and long his eyelashes were. It wasn’t fair that he was pretty down to the individual hairs on his lashes. 

His big hands felt like heaven on your hips as he helped you lift into his truck. His hands slid from your waist and you missed the heat of it instantly. Terry cleared his throat and then closed the door. 

You eyed him as he rounded the front of his truck, climbed in, and started the car. He turned the heater on full blast and before long, you were headed down the mountain. The type of road you were on was paved and everything, but every so often, you’d hit a patch of woods on the side of the road and there were guard rails to prevent you from toppling over.

Terry took the turns slowly, but expertly. Your eyes were drawn to his hands every time the steering wheel slipped through his fingers while he turned. He kept his nails trimmed and clean, causing you to bite your lip, thinking of him fingering you. 

No, you stop that, you chastised yourself. He was not a piece of meat. But sweet fuck, the packaging was pretty.

“How’s the writing going?” Terry asked.

“Huh?” You asked. You heard him, you just needed more time to let your brain get off nasty mode. Though, who were you kidding? It stayed nasty. 

Terry repeated his question. He took a long turn that caused you to lean against your seatbelt. It dug across your chest and you moved it to a more comfortable spot. 

“Good. I think. I can never tell. But I’m still trying to figure out how the characters meet,” you said.

“It’s that important?” He asked. 

You nodded, though he didn’t see because he was being a good driver. He kept his eyes faced forward, driving carefully down the road. Every so often, the woods would break and there would be someone’s property, full of horses or cows. You marveled at a large brown cow hanging out just because. 

“The meet cute is one of the most important parts of the book. It sets the tone for the relationship,” you said.

“Yeah? How so?” He asked.

“Are you sure you want to hear about all this? You don’t have to be polite,” you said, giving him an easy out. 

“I like listening to you,” he said.

Oh. You smiled, looking down at your hands in your lap. You launched into the nitty gritty of romance writing. The less glamorous side of it. It took you a long time to learn when to linger, when to skip ahead, and when to let the characters give into the chemistry. You weren’t always sure you pulled it off, but your sales were steady so you’d take it. 

Terry listened the entire time, asking more and more questions to feed his curiosity. He still threw in teases about your voice, the subject matter, and your little smut buddies, your writing group that talked about sex all day long. 

He pulled the truck into a plaza with a few different stores spread out. “You’re gonna tell me guys don’t talk about sex all day? Why’s it a problem when women do it?” 

Terry pulled into an available parking spot and turned the car off. The chill from outside immediately crept in, forcing the warm air to evaporate. “Sure, but we don’t write it down or send porn to each other,” he said.

“We do not send porn!” You said. Liar, liar. You had sent a porn link to your group chat earlier to discuss the inspo for Wesley. 

Terry gave you an incredulous look before getting out of the truck. Your heartbeat sped up as he walked around to your side. His hands would be on you again. You liked it. Perhaps too much, because when he opened the door, you jumped. 

“You good?” He asked.

You nodded, not trusting your voice. Terry steadied you by the waist as you climbed out of his massive truck. When he set you on the ground, your hands lingered on his forearms. Realizing you were holding on, you hummed and stepped away with a smile.

You went shopping, picking up essentials for a quick emergency kit. Flashlight with extra batteries, bottled water, granola bars with a long shelf life, back up portable chargers for your phone, extra over the counter meds, first aid kit, whistle, Lysol wipes, hand sanitizer, paper soap, and matches. 

Terry’s eyebrows rose with each new item you picked up, working off your memory of your home and work kits. So you liked to be prepared, so what. You were only mildly embarrassed as he walked with you down each aisle, adding in things you hadn’t thought of for snow weather. Extra thick socks, thermals, extra scarf and beanie. Just in case. 

“Thank you, Terry, really,” you said as Terry helped put the items in the bed of his truck. 

“You can thank me by swinging by the bar with me. I’m pretty hungry. You?” He asked. 

You grinned. “Was this your plan all along?” You asked.

“Maybe,” he said and smirked. Ugh. He was too fucking pretty. It made you sick really. Sick with fucking lust. Maybe a drink was just what the doctor ordered. 

“Fine. But you could have just asked, you know,” you said.

“I know.” After he helped you in the car, he made the short trip to the bar he told you about.

The parking lot was large but mostly empty. It was nearing the evening and the temperature dropped bit by bit, your breath escaping in clouds. Terry escorted you up the long wooden stairs towards the earthy bar.

Inside, the place was bigger than you expected with two distinct sections. On the right, there were dining tables set up for bigger groups. Some of those tables were filled up and there were TVs stationed around turned to various games. 

Terry said hello to the staff as he escorted you to the left, where the main bar was set up. The tables on this side sat higher off the ground and it had bar stools pushed close to the table. There was a door that led out onto a patio for outside dining but no one sat outside at the moment. 

Terry pulled out a bar stool for you and helped you climb on. He effortlessly sat, his long legs having no trouble touching the ground. Bastard. 

The bartender, introduced as Adam, came around to take your drink orders. “I am a cider girlie. What’s good?” You asked Adam.

Adam stroked his silky salt and pepper beard and looked behind him. “We got a few things. How you feel about blueberry?” 

“Blueberry cider?” You asked.

Adam grinned. “If you don’t like it, it’s on the house,” he said. Adam leaned forward on the bar top and you smiled back. Oh, he was adorable. 

Terry cleared his throat. “How’s Melissa?” Terry asked, bringing a beer to his lips and sipping. 

Adam’s smile didn’t waver. “She left me. I’m all alone in my modest, but spacious house,” Adam said, never taking his eyes from you.

You giggled and waved him off. “Oh stop!” You said. 

“With a beautiful woman like you, how can I?” Adam asked. 

Terry made a sound that sounded suspiciously like a growl. You side eyed him as he shared a glance with Adam. Adam knocked on the bar top with a grin and then moved away to grab you a blueberry cider. He popped the top for you and waited for you to take a sip.

It was…actually delicious. You nodded. “Okay, not bad, Adam,” you said.

Adam’s permanent grin spread wider. “I aim to please,” he said. 

You hid your giggle behind your hand and shook your head. “Did Melissa really leave you?” You asked. 

Adam groaned and looked at Terry. “Thanks, T. Yes, she really did. But only to visit her parents. I still needed to work,” Adam said. 

“Aw, why’d you get stuck with holiday duty? You piss off the boss?” 

“He is the boss,” Terry grumbled. 

You smiled at him. These two. “I bet ya’ll get into so much trouble together,” you said.

“Too much. And it was always Terry’s idea,” Adam said. 

“Fuck outta here,” Terry said and chuckled. Adam launched into a story about growing up with Terry, running around like the latch key kids they were. Adam had dared Terry to jump off a rock formation near a creek which got both their asses handed to them by Terry’s mama. 

You laughed through the story, Adam an amazing storyteller. Terry filled in details grudgingly, pulled from him the more Adam kept going. 

Your food arrived in the middle of Adam speaking. You ordered tiger sauce wings and the chicken was huge. It came with fries and you immediately dug in, your hunger taking over something vicious. 

Adam finally left you two alone as Adam had to tend to more and more people as the night dragged on. 

“Your friend is funny,” you said. 

Terry grunted. “But he doesn’t get on your nerves?” He asked. 

“Nope. Guess you bring it out of me,” you said. 

Terry rolled his eyes but dug into his own steak and potatoes. You both lobbed questions back and forth, learning more about each other now than over the two weeks he fixed minor things around the rental. 

You downed cider after cider, getting lost in the way Terry told stories. He had a slower approach than Adam, but he was no less engaging. With that voice of his, he set the scene perfectly as a narrator. 

The cider warmed you from the inside out, making your face flush with heat. But it was Terry’s voice that had something else flushing as well. Your pussy fluttered every time he licked the corner of his mouth while he spoke. 

It ached every time you spoke and his focus was completely on you. He didn’t blink away, he didn’t look down, he didn’t interrupt. It only highlighted how much you craved that. Your family and friends only had so much patience for you before they were off, dominating the conversation in ways you couldn’t actively participate in. It felt more like they just wanted someone to talk at, not with.

Not the case with Terry. He included you in the conversation, stretching it, and flowed effortlessly from one topic to the next. There was rarely a lull in your conversation and your heads dipped closer and closer together the more you spoke. 

The crisp apple and blueberry taste coated your tongue but also loosened your lips. “I see it all so clearly in my head, but then I get too much in my head, and it all comes crashing down. I can’t connect with this one for some reason,” you said. 

Terry had asked you more about novel writing, the concept completely foreign to him. He confessed that he didn’t think that much effort went into it. Maybe not for others. But for you, it felt like you agonized over every single word. Were you true to the characters? Did anything make sense? Would it hit for others like it hit for you? 

“Why’s it not connecting for you?” Terry sipped his second beer, as sober as a judge. While you felt too relaxed. 

You sighed and looked away from him, peeling the label off of the bottle with your nail. “No offense, but men. I usually have a man to play with while writing to keep the inspiration going but sex-only arrangements only work if the guy initiates it. If I tell them I don’t want anything more, that’s when they get in their feelings,” you said with a shiver. 

Terry’s grin spread slowly across his lips, revealing a neat row of teeth. Oh, my. He was damn delicious. “So you treat them like a ho and they get mad?” 

“Yes!” You tapped his shoulder. Finally, a man who got you. “Like ugh, I know what I want and it’s not these dudes I find. I won’t settle for anything less than what I write about on the daily. So no, I don’t want to date, a girl just wants to get fucked, you know? No talking, no giggling, just work me over like a screen door in a hurricane and then get the fuck out,” you said. You nodded your head to emphasize your point. 

You sighed deeply and smiled at Terry, your eyes drooping. You were a little tipsy. Terry lifted an eyebrow and then your words echoed in your mind. Your jaw dropped. Oh god. You were mortified. 

“I-I am so sorry. That was so rude,” you said.

Terry lifted his fingers in a small wave. “Naw, you’re good,” he said.

“No, wow. That was inappropriate. I’m sorry. I-I’m sorry. We should go, please,” you said. 

Terry turned towards you on the bar stool. “There’s nothing to be sorry for. I’m the one that asked, chipmunk,” he said. 

Your cheeks were still on fire. It was one thing to talk like this with your girlfriends or your sister, or even your writing group. That was normal. But you talked with Terry as if you’d known him forever. It took you one business year to make friends, putting them through the gauntlet to see if they’d actually stick around. More than that to let your freak flag fly. 

“If you truly want to go, we will. But I promise, we’re cool. You don’t have to censor yourself around me,” he said.

And somehow, that permission made your shoulders droop from around your ears. You nodded, taking a sip of water. You didn’t have to apologize for being true to yourself. And it was like you crossed some invisible social boundary with Terry. Conversation flowed more smoothly, your heads dipped closer together, and your shoulders brushed against each other.

“So what are you looking for then? If not these dudes you meet,” he said. 

You spent the rest of the night diving into past dating history and what you looked for in a partner. Terry shared what he liked as well. Someone that laughed at his world-stopping jokes, someone kind, and someone goofy.

Instantly, you compared yourself to the small list of women he’d been with. The traits he looked for. Did you fit the bill? Were you someone he could shove through the mattress? 

It seemed wild to think about that even though you already swore him off. It wasn’t that you weren’t interested. You were too interested. Too aware. Too conscious of him. Of the way he moved, talked, or laughed. You anticipated what would make him smile, what would make him groan, or what would make him roll his eyes. 

He was hands down the only man that could make you lose your marbles and you hadn’t even taken him to bed. The thought filled you with so much dread and fear, that you had to push him away to stay sane. You had to keep him firmly on the other side of the brain before your inner romantic started planning your wedding in your mind.

You could easily fall for Terry Richmond. And you weren’t sure if you were strong enough to survive if he couldn’t. Not in the way you wanted. Not in the way you craved. Not in the way you wrote about, book after book, story after story, chasing a phantom man in your mind that loved you in the way you hungered for. 

Adam called last call and gave Terry the sober vibe check. Which consisted of Terry holding his middle finger to nose while standing on one leg for a minute. You laughed at the sight, instantly taking a picture because there was no chance in hell you wanted to forget the look on his face. 

He flipped you the bird while he settled with Adam and then escorted you outside. The wind was bitter, biting through your jacket and hoodie. Terry stepped closer to you, taking the brunt of it as the wind came from his direction.

You joked on the way to his truck, nudging him every so often as you walked. The liquor loosened you both up, navigating the newfound familiarity together. Whether it was by intention or by accident, the touches were not unwelcome.

At his car, you leaned against the truck. You nudged your chin towards the bar. “It’s a great place. I see why you wanted to show it to me,” you said.

He leaned a hand against the car, blocking most of the wind. But it had the added benefit of bringing him warmth closer. He smelled delicious like the outside air he belonged to. Like pine needles and cinnamon. 

“Figured you might. Did it help with your book?” He asked.

You gasped. “Was that the goal?” You asked.

He shrugged. “A little. I figured you were too in your head,” he said.

“You think you know me, Terry Richmond,” you said and tapped his chest. He rocked back on his heels as if it actually hurt him and you rolled your eyes.

“No. But I’m learning to,” he said.

You giggled nervously as you blinked up at him. Light from the signs on the bar barely reached, but it highlighted him from behind. Light cut across his jaw and cheek and made his lashes glow at the tip.

Terry stepped closer, giving you all the room to step away or block him. But that was the last thing your body wanted. You stayed put, sliding your hands against his broad chest. Your fingers curled around the fabric and he sighed. 

He brought his face closer to yours and inhaled. You hummed just as his lips pressed against yours. There was nothing hurried about it. Nothing filthy or salacious. But it warmed you from the tip of your toes to the top of your head. 

Terry drew back and looked you in the eyes. You didn’t need to say anything. Didn’t need to share anything. You supposed kissing him was inevitable. Fated. 

Terry tucked you into his truck and his hands lingered, reluctantly letting you go only because you were seated and there was nothing to help with anymore. You smiled at him and he finally closed the door. It gave you enough time to let loose the breath you held as he walked around.

He drove carefully back up the mountain. Snow had stuck to the road in some areas, so Terry went extra slow to be careful. If it weren’t for his huge lights, you wouldn’t be able to see a got damn thing.

It was pitch black outside, as if the world had disappeared during your ascent. As soon as the headlights passed on to something else, the darkness encroached and gobbled it back up. It was trippy. Yet strangely called to your inner emo. 

The ride was mostly silent, soft music playing on the radio too low for you to pick up words. Terry found your rental without a hitch and came around to let you out of his truck. He walked with you to the front door and hovered outside of it while you stepped in.

You put your head on the door, swinging back and forth. In a minute, Terry would have to fix that one too. You giggled at your joke and Terry smirked.

“What’s so funny, chipmunk?” He asked. 

You told him and Terry groaned and shook his head. “That was a terrible joke,” he said.

“What! No it wasn’t!” You squeaked with your outrage, sputtering for the right words to defend yourself. You could call your jokes bad, he couldn’t. You didn’t know why just yet, but he couldn’t. 

“Was to,” he said and stepped closer. Terry’s eyes drooped as he leaned his shoulder against the door frame. He took up the majority of it, so large and imposing. Yet his energy was nothing but peaceful and quiet, setting you at ease in a way only a thorough cleaning could achieve.

“Was not,” you said, holding your ground. You wanted to invite him in. Wanted to go ahead and explore what he started.

Terry sighed and dug his hands in his hoodie pocket. “Goodnight, chipmunk,” he said. 

Oh. You matched his sigh and rolled your eyes. “Good night, Terry,” you said. You’d have to think of a good nickname for him. Like Big Bird…Clifford…whenever it came to you, you were gonna hit him with it. 

Terry stepped back and waited while you closed and locked the door. You heard his boots travel down the steps and into his awaiting truck. 

You leaned your back against the cold door and sighed once more. If you were a chipmunk, then the only tree you wanted to climb was him.

“Girl,” you said, drawing the word out.

“Girl, what?” Your best friend, Whitley, asked. 

“This motherfucker out here chopping wood on Christmas Eve,” you said. Terry stopped by a week later, finally coming around to chop more wood for the fireplace. You had forgotten all about it, feeling better now that you had an upgraded emergency kit.

But then Terry took off his hoodie, revealing a silver blue T-shirt that really brought out the blue in his eyes. He blamed the storm, criticizing you for not paying more attention to the weather channel.

Um, and miss bingeing Alex Cross for the umpteenth time? Yeah, no thanks. You called him an old man while he grinned and went outside, round to the side. There was a tree stump there and a small pile of chopped firewood. 

Terry took the larger, whole pieces and went to work. Some he cracked in one go, his powerful muscles bunching and contracting with the effort. The axe was decisive, snapping and echoing in the surrounding woods. 

Terry used the hem of his shirt to wipe the sweat from his brow and you got a front row seat to his abs. 

You moaned into the phone and Whitley grunted. “Girl, uh uh. Put me on video or something. You can’t be moaning like that and I don’t get to see too.”

Fair, she was right. You hurried and put her on video, tilting the phone to look at him through the window. Though he faced forward, he rarely looked up while he worked on the firewood as if it stole something from him.

You bit your lip, needing that same focus while he fucked you stupid. You wanted to be fucked so hard that you forgot your ABCs.

“Oh damn,” Whitley said, moaning with you. 

Lord, he was fine. This so wasn’t fair. Not even in the slightest. “And you ain’t rode that big dawg yet?” Whitley asked.

“Girl, no. Look at him. He would snap my ass in half and then eat my heart on his way out,” you said. 

Terry took a break, lodging the axe in the tree stump. He wiped his forehead with his shirt once more and you and Whitley sighed in appreciation. Wisps of his breath clouded in the air, sunlight shining brightly on Terry. 

“I say this with all the love in my heart. You stupid ho, go ride that man!” Whitley yelled into the phone. Since she was on speaker, you ducked in case Terry looked towards you. He didn’t need to see you being a creeper. 

When you deemed it safe, you slowly stood back up. Terry stretched his thick biceps, causing his shirt to ride up. His belly peeked from underneath, giving you a glimpse of his belly button. You felt no better than an 18th century man but your core was in full agreement. Your clit throbbed, painfully. His tattoos poked out from beneath his short sleeves and you wondered what the story was behind each one. 

“Now what if he looked over here? Now we both looking stupid ‘cause you don’t know how to shut up,” you said. 

Whitley giggled and sighed. Terry picked up the axe and continued chopping. He leaned forward, grabbing a whole piece, and then placed it on the stump. He hefted the axe above his head and let it fall with force behind it, splitting it in two. 

“Got damn. Maybe I need to visit you up there, friend,” Whitley teased.

“Um, no,” you said.

Whitley giggled. “Then if that’s your man, go get him!” 

You grumbled to her, listing off reasons why you absolutely shouldn’t. But night after night, little Laz Alonso wasn’t cutting it. Ever since the bar, ever since the kiss, you hadn’t been able to keep him from your mind.

It was his face that you stroked yourself too. His voice that you moaned to. His eyes that set you off but it was empty. Sure it felt good, but you needed more. You needed the heft of a man on top of you, splitting you open, talking nasty in ya ear.

Spicy audios and a vibrator just didn’t have the same effect. Not when you wanted some body heat. When you wanted the rough scratch of a beard on your skin. Fingers buried to the knuckle. 

“What am I gonna do when he get me addicted to that monster in his pants and I can’t have no more? You really want me out here like a crackhead, begging for dick? You wanna come bail me out of jail because I was banging on his door at 3am?” You asked.

Whitley howled with laughter as you kept going, describing all the ways Terry would have you acting out of character. And you wouldn’t feel a lick of shame about it. You’d stand outside buck ass nekkid in the cold, brutal winter if it meant you’d get to hop on it again. 

“Stop, my stomach hurt! Stop it!” Whitley yelled in between pulls of air. 

You finally giggled with her, eyes still on Terry. The pile of wood next to him grew more and more and you wondered how long he expected this storm to last? Or if he had that little faith in the central heating. 

Terry glanced towards the house and you ducked, heart in your throat. “I think he saw me,” you whispered. 

Whitley giggled and shook her head. “How you gonna explain that one?” She asked. 

“I’ll tell if you if works,” you said. You hung up with her and then grabbed two bottles of water from the pantry. 

You threw on your hoodie and jacket, leaving the house. You slid-walked towards the side of the house, the snow giving way and making you earn it. You huffed as you made it around the side.

Terry stopped chopping and watched you struggle. He lodged the axe into the stump and then placed his hands on his narrow hips. The silver blue T-shirt clung to his body with sweat. If he were to wring it out, you’d bet it’d fill a bucket. 

When you got closer, Terry lifted an eyebrow. “You know chipmunks s’posed to hibernate in the winter,” he said. 

“Oh shut up,” you said, shaking your head. “I saw you struggling so I decided to come give you the break you needed.”

You handed him the bottle of water and then unscrewed your own. “Saw me struggling, huh,” he said, his voice deeper than normal. Or were you imagining it? Fuck. You were losing touch with reality now. 

His eyes slanted towards you as he tilted his head back and gulped down the bottle of water. He didn’t stop for a breath. He kept going, his Adam’s apple bobbing with the action. His bicep could probably crush steel. Veins ran down the length of his arm and saliva pooled in your mouth. 

“That’s a lot of firewood,” you said, your voice unnaturally rough. You cleared your throat and drank your own water. 

You finally figured out how Wesley and Gabrielle meet so the rest of Act 1 flew from your fingers. You made it to the part where they have sex for the first time and Gabrielle would discover that Wesley was an investigator. 

You’d had sex on the brain all day. A little obsessively so considering it was Christmas Eve. So Terry being out here, looking like that and chopping wood like that... It was like a cosmic nudge in the pants to ride him ‘till the cows came home. Your resolve weakened the more you spent in his presence. This was why you needed to stop listening to Whitley’s ass. 

“Want to make sure you’re prepared,” he said, his accent seeping through his words. 

You drank more of your water, shivering as a brutal wind kicked up. “Oh, that’s cold,” you said. Was that the universe telling you to take your ass in the house? Surely, it would be on your side, telling you to keep your eye on the prize and not fuck the incredibly hot handyman. 

The wind blew again, the cold light of the sun disappearing all together. You looked upwards. Clouds rolled across the sky as the temperature dropped ten degrees. “Fuck,” you shivered, rubbing your arms. 

Terry scowled. “The storm’s early. Go get inside,” he said. 

Overhead, trees swayed violently with the gathering wind. “What about the firewood?” You asked.

“I got it,” he said. He waved for you to go ahead of him but you didn’t want to just leave him to do all the work. He moved carefully, heading to the side of the house and grabbed a blue tarp. He jogged to the stump and loaded the tarp with firewood. “Go get inside!” 

“It’ll be faster if I help,” you called back over the wind. 

You ran towards the stack, helping him load it with the firewood he chopped. He scowled but he couldn’t argue with you once you started. In no time, you had it loaded with as much firewood as he could move. 

He pushed you towards the house, pulling on the tarp and dragged it across the snow. Snow flurries kicked up and swirled around you as you ran-slid towards the front door. Terry was hot on your heels, huffing, clouds of breath in front of him. 

You held onto the railing as you jogged up the steps, already knowing Terry wouldn’t want you to help with the wood. He gathered up all four corners and lifted with his knees, carrying the tarp up the stairs like it was nothing. 

You opened the door, the wind doing most of the work. The door banged against the wall and Terry stomped in after and dropped the firewood. “Close the door,” he said and went back outside.

“Wait!” You called after him. He kept walking so you did as he said, closing the door behind him. You had to push against the wind but you finally managed to close it. You looked outside of the window beside the door. 

The snow blew around hard and fast, obscuring visibility minute by minute. You could barely make out Terry’s outline as he ran to his truck and opened the bed. He pulled out a bag and then closed the bed of the truck, locking it behind him. He jogged towards the front door, holding his bare arm up as he did so. 

A second later, he opened the door, entered, and then closed it behind him. He shook himself out, flinging snow across the entrance. “I’ll clean that up,” he said. Water clung to his scruffy beard and plastered his shirt to his body. His nipples poked out and you dragged your eyes away. 

“You need to get in the shower, now,” you said.

“What?” Terry asked and his eyes went wide. 

“The last thing you want to do is get sick. Go warm your body up in the shower. I’ll throw your clothes in the dryer,” you said. Your words sunk in a second later and then you giggled. “I mean, leave your clothes outside the door, obviously.”

Terry smirked, his eyes crinkling in the corners. “Yes, ma’am. Thank you,” he said. He nodded towards the fireplace. “You know how to start that? We should conserve power tonight, just in case.” 

“I agree. But no, still haven’t learned how to start it. You go get in the shower, the heater will be fine for now,” you said. 

Terry looked like he wanted to argue, pinching his lips together. But then he shook his head and took off towards the bathroom. He peeled off his shirt as he went and you bit your lip. 

Sweet fuck, that was not what you meant! Got damn. Your eyes widened as you looked at the dip in his back. The expanse of shoulders. The tattoo on the back of his right arm. Sweet fuck, almighty. 

Terry looked back at you as he went into the bathroom. He ducked to enter and then shut the door behind him. He caught you staring. He so, so caught you staring. A beat later, he opened the door and tossed out his shirt, jeans, and socks. Not his underwear though. Bastard.

You put the items in the dryer and let it run for a cycle. You closed the closet doors on the other side of the kitchen and then started up a kettle. Your fingers tapped on the countertop waiting for the water to finish.

All the while, the shower was loud through the walls. On the other side of it, Terry was showering. He was naked. He was running soap all over that massive, long body. Your panties grew so damp, you wondered if you had enough time to dry them before he got out of the shower.

You needed all the strength you could muster. Because right now, you couldn’t remember a single fucking reason why you couldn’t hop on Terry’s dick. Really, what was the price of heartbreak? A wild ride in the sack? It just may be worth it for Terry Richmond. 

The shower turned off just as the kettle clicked off beside you. You jumped and then closed your eyes. You were an adult. You could keep yourself in check. 

You poured some tea for yourself but you weren’t sure what he drank. You didn’t like beer so you didn’t have any in the house. You weren’t expecting any visitors. 

Wind blew against the window making you jump once more. You were too hyperaware. Too attune with every little noise or screech.

You retrieved his clothes from the dryer and then knocked on the door. Terry opened it a crack and you made sure to keep your eyes on his face. Nowhere south. “Clothes,” you said.

“Thanks,” he said. He opened the door wider and grabbed his clothes from you. His fingers grazed yours and you gasped. He was so soft and warm. Steam poured out the room, fanning across your face. He smelled like your soap and you bit back a moan.

“Yup,” you squeaked and then left him to it. Tea, tea, all you needed was some tea. Some sleepytime tea to do the trick. But you weren’t sure how you were going to sleep with a storm raging outside.

You hated to admit it but your winter getaway turned out to be anything but idyllic. And you had a teensy, smallish, not even worth mentioning fear of storms. It was the bigness of it. The fact that it made you feel so tiny, so insignificant, so aware of your mortality. That nature was the foremost authority and you lived and breathed by its good graces. 

It was an annoying feeling to you as a writer. You created entire worlds at whim. Played with characters like dolls. But you held no such power in real life. 

Terry left the bathroom, his footfalls softer now that he wasn’t wearing boots. Freshly dressed in his warm clothes, he looked younger without his beanie. He sported a mini, curled afro atop his head. It gave him a mountain man sort of look, like he would be at home out there in the woods. 

“Thanks,” he said. 

You nodded. “I wasn’t sure if you were into tea,” you said.

Terry waved you off. “Water is fine,” he said. He moved over towards the living room and opened the tarp on the floor. He knelt on one leg as he worked on stoking a fire to life. The flames gathered traction, flicking orange and yellow light across his features. 

You rolled the bag of tea around a spoon to squeeze excess water out. Then you doctored it how you liked, adding in cold water. You grabbed a bottle of water and headed to the living room as Terry finished with the fireplace.

Terry accepted the bottle, drinking down half of it while he turned off the main heater and sat on the other side of the couch. 

“Looks like we’re having a sleepover. Did you plan this too?” You asked.

“If I were powerful enough to control the weather, I’d use it for more nefarious purposes,” Terry said.

“Like what?” You asked, your curiosity piqued. 

Terry chuckled. “And give up my evil plan? Naw. I ain’t grow up on a chicken farm,” he said.

You laughed and shook your head. “What?” You asked, chuckling more. 

Terry laughed with you. “Chicken Run?” He asked.

“Shut up, you ain’t seen that movie,” you said.

Terry scoffed. “Bet,” he said.

“What’s the young rooster’s name?” You asked.

“Rocky, try again,” he said.

You squinted at him as you thought of your next question. Something only a true fan would know. “Who was the first chicken to go through Mrs. Tweedy’s chicken pie machine?” You asked.

Terry sucked in a breath and widened his eyes. “Okay, tough. But it was Ginger,” he said. 

You looked at him and raised your eyebrows, trying to cast doubt on his answer. He matched your stare, smirk on his lips, and didn’t fold. 

“Okay, fine, you’re right,” you huffed.

Terry laughed and drank the rest of his bottled water. You fell into a comfortable silence, both lost in your thoughts. “I haven’t seen Chicken Run in a while,” Terry said.

“Me neither. We should see if it’s streaming,” you said. You turned on the TV and snuggled under your inside throw blanket. With the heat blowing across your legs, you felt warmer than the heater could ever achieve. 

Before long, you were both laughing at the shenanigans of the claymation movie. You both tossed out quotes, going back and forth about things you noticed in the movie. 

One movie turned to two, throwing on How the Grinch Stole Christmas. It was among your favorite Christmas movies and a perfect distraction against the raging storm outside. The wind knocked harshly against the window every so often, causing your eyes to dart to it and your heart rate to speed up. You hated being such a baby sometimes. 

But, giving yourself grace, storms really could be scary. If it knocked the power out, it could also knock over trees into the house or onto someone’s car. Storms were devastating and of course you’d find them a bit scary. 

Terry scooted closer. “You afraid of storms?” He asked. His voice was like butter melting over a freshly baked biscuit. You hummed and decided to be honest. 

“There’s so many things that could happen in a storm,” you told him. 

He nodded. “I got something to help with that,” he said. 

You turned to him and hummed for him to respond. He scooted closer on the couch, close enough for your shoulder to lean on his. You giggled at his solution. “Stop hugging the throw too,” he murmured and you giggled. 

“This helps storms, huh?” 

Terry nodded. “Hell yeah. Feel better?” 

You pinched your lips together but went on and nodded. “It has its merits.”

As you worked on Wesley and Gabrielle’s relationship, you couldn’t help picturing how Terry would be in a relationship. Would he be the perfect boyfriend? Would he be as annoying as he usually was, always poking at you? 

“Before we get comfortable, we should grab some drinks. I only have tequila or wine,” you said. 

“I’ll take the tequila,” he said, making a face. You laughed and rolled your eyes at him. You got up and went to the kitchen, grabbing your favorite tequila and two shot glasses. You turned off the kitchen light on your way back, bathing the living room in darkness. The flames in the fireplace flickered across the wall, still pumping out delicious heat. 

You poured a shot for each of you, clinked the glasses, and then drank. During the movie, you talked and joked, also quoting this movie back and forth. Terry’s laugh was so adorable and infectious. Was there anything on this man that didn’t scramble your brain? 

He breathed and you were ready to drop your panties and beg for his dick. You were not above begging. But your tongue stuck to the roof of your mouth. You wanted it too badly but you wrestled with your brain. You shouldn’t but you oh so wanted to.

“Can I confess something?” Terry asked. 

You turned your head to him. You had managed to curl into his side, soaking in the heat of his body. You felt every rise and fall of his chest. You licked your lips and Terry’s eyes drooped down. 

“What is it, Terry?” You asked. 

Terry licked his own lips and you couldn’t resist following the movement with your eyes. His lips were so big, so juicy. 

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about our kiss,” he said. His voice was so soft, so velvety, that your shoulders dropped and you leaned in. 

“Me neither,” you said. You shook your head. The kiss invaded all of your senses, leading to distraction even when Terry wasn’t there. All week, you caught yourself veering off to replay the kiss over and over again.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you since the moment you threatened me with a poker,” he said and smiled. 

Your chest rose and fell in waves, processing what he was saying. “Don’t play with me, Terry Richmond,” you said. You just couldn’t stand it if he were. 

“When you said what you said at the bar, I wondered what kind of man you’d take to bed. And then I started thinking that I wanted to be the only one in your bed,” he said.

Your mouth dropped open. It’s not that you didn’t know you were gorgeous. It’s not that you didn’t think you could pull someone like Terry. It was the fact that he said it so plainly. So openly. So clearly for your brain to not misinterpret his words. You didn’t have to guess with him. And that was one of the sexiest things ever. 

You blinked a few times. “I–”

“And then I started hoping that you’d let me audition,” he said.

“Audition?” You asked. What the hell was he on about? 

Terry grinned and then leaned closer, bringing his large hand to cup your face. His thumb stroked across your cheek. Your eyes slowly blinked closed, your skin tingling where he stroked. His warm breath fanned across your face, smelling faintly like tequila. 

He rubbed his lips against yours but it wasn’t a full kiss. And that made you want it more. You wanted his lips on yours. You would simply die without it. 

“Let me show off my skills. If I do well, you can use me as inspiration for your latest book,” he said.

You giggled, biting the inside of your cheek. “And what do you get out of the arrangement?” You asked.

“You,” he said.

You gasped, staring into his eyes. The low light made his features stand out more. It made his expressions more severe, more striking. You were at a loss for words. This man handed over everything you wanted on a silver platter.

You were so nervous to accept. You had been let down in so many ways by so many men. You had reached a point where you weren’t actively looking for a relationship. You didn’t need some raggedy boy in your phone. 

But Terry was a man. A huge, perfect, wonderful man who got on your last fucking nerve. He always had something smart to say or some new quip to lob at you. But he was also thoughtful. Kind. Funny. Sexy as fucking sin. 

“Are you sure? What if you don’t pass?” You asked.

“Then I’d like to keep trying until you tell me to leave,” he said. He licked your lips and you sighed, ending on a moan. 

“Okay, what will you do for your audition?” You asked. The tequila traveled straight south, making your pussy throb. Your inner thighs tingled even as your breathing increased. 

Terry smirked. He finally crashed his lips to yours, kissing you harshly, brutally. Like he had merely been caged before and you finally set him free. You brought your hands up to his neck, pulling him closer. 

Your moans combined and danced as you leaned closer, pushed harder, kissed back just as fiercely as he did. 

His hands moved underneath your shirt, hands wrapped around your sides, gripping onto your meaty flesh. You moaned, arching your back into him. Terry pulled you closer, made you straddle him. 

An impressive bulge rubbed against your core and you moaned, closing your eyes. Fuck, you were overstimulated already and nothing even happened yet. You knew he had a monster in his pants. You just knew it. 

You made out with Terry like a horny teenager, clashing teeth and biting at each other’s lips. You grinded in his lap, rubbing yourself against him. He groaned, hands lowering to cup your ass. He took two big scoops and squeezed hard, causing you to squeak.

“O-Oh fuck,” you moaned. The pain hurt so good. He kneaded your ass and you dropped your forehead to his shoulder. You moaned low, breathing harshly through your nose. 

“You are so fucking beatiful,” he murmured against your temple. 

“Terry, fuck, I’ve wanted you so bad,” you moaned. 

“Why didn’t you say?” He asked. 

You shook your head. You couldn’t speak. Didn’t want to speak. Your body moved on its own accord, rubbing against his hot erection. 

Terry moved one of his hands to grip your chin and force you to look at him. “Why?” He demanded. 

“You could break me. And that scares me,” you whispered. 

“How do you think I feel?” He asked. “You could rip me apart.” 

You crashed your lips to his, scratched at the nape of his neck. He returned his hand to your ass to squeeze, knead, and mold with his large hands. You moaned into his mouth, needing more friction. 

Terry grabbed you by the waist and pulled you off of him. He made quick work of your jeans, pulled them down your legs, and off in one quick snap. You squealed with laughter, at the physicality of him, yet he still remained sweet and gentle. 

Terry peeled your panties from your body and he groaned. “Fuck, you’re so wet,” he whispered, his voice one of awe. He slipped your panties off as well, biting your thighs as he pulled, and tossed it over his shoulder. 

Your pussy throbbed looking at the way he stared at the heart of you. The smell of your arousal permeated the air and you moaned, smelling how turned on you were. He pushed at your thighs until they rested against your stomach. 

He blew his breath across your pussy gently. “Oh, shit,” you twitched, hand reaching down to cling to his afro.

Terry groaned and blew once more, lowering his face until he was close enough to lick you from entrance to clit and back again. Your back bucked off of the couch, grinding into his face. 

Terry moaned and wrapped his thick lips around your clit. He suckled sloppily, licking you like a dog with its favorite toy. “Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit,” you moaned, your stomach caving in and your eyes rolling back. 

His tongue was the sweetest torture of pleasure against your pussy. His drool mixed with your essence, causing his sloppy eating to echo in the living room. “Fuck, that pussy good,” he sputtered against your sopping wet pussy. 

“Oh fuck!” You screamed, your orgasm tearing through you too fast for you to comprehend. You flopped on the couch as your body shook and twisted with pleasure. Terry kept eating, slurping up the latest wave of essence on his tongue.

His beard grew more wet, sliding against your skin. It tickled and you wiggled, trying to move. Terry locked his arms around your thighs, shoving his face further into your pussy. His nose tickled the top of your mound and you groaned and moaned, loving the attention but unable to stand the tickling. 

“Hmmmm,” he moaned, shaking his head. His tongue flicked across your clit without mercy, suckling on the swollen nub. 

“Shit! Shit! Wait! Fuck!” You panted. You were out of breath, hardly able to make any sounds as Terry continued to eat you like a starving man to bread. Your stomach caved in once more, your lungs refusing to work any longer. 

You pushed at his forehead but he kept going. Your eyes rolled backwards, your thighs clenched around his head as another orgasm tore through you, yanking your soul around like a ping pong ball. 

Your pussy clenched and unclenched, wanting attention too. “Fuck me, fuck me,” you begged. You loved that he was a munch, Loved, loved it. But fuck you needed to be filled up. You needed to feel him deep in it. 

“Not done yet,” Terry said. He came up for air, his face shiny with your juices. He licked his lips and closed his eyes, savoring it. When he opened it again, he narrowed his eyes. “Show me those pretty chocolate nipples.” 

Your belly flipped painfully. Pussy throbbed. You lifted your shirt slowly, giving him a slight tease. Your overheated skin tingled with awareness as the cotton shifted across your body. 

You revealed your titties and Terry groaned and rolled his hips into the bed. He winked at you. “Play with them while I eat,” he said. He returned to lapping at your pussy and your thighs squeezed around his face. 

You were too sensitive. You jerked with every flick, every suck, and every glide of his lips. Your thighs shook with passion, tingled, and tensed. But you managed to pinch and roll your nipples, squeezing in time with his licks. “Please, please, Terry, fuck! I can’t!” 

He pushed two fingers inside to pump in and out of your entrance. He wrapped his lips around your clit and used some kind of devil, voodoo magic to create a sucking vortex that had you seeing an entire galaxy behind your eyelids. Your mind flashed with dense clouds of pinks, violets, fiery oranges, and the softest greens. 

You lost all ability to speak as another orgasm was wrung from you. You bowed forward, pushing his head into your clit as you came and came with howls and screams loud enough to wake the dead. 

White and black spots danced in your vision as you suffered through aftershocks, ribbons of pleasure causing your nerves to go haywire. “Fuck, fuck,” you twitched. 

You didn’t have the words nor the presence of mind to process what the hell just happened. You were spent. Put out. Dangle you on the clothesline to air out because you were out of it. 

Terry came up for air with a growl, kissing your inner thighs, then your stomach, then climbed up your body to capture your lips with his own. He smeared your essence all over your face and you locked tongues with him eagerly. 

You tasted too good on his tongue. Smelled too good on his lips. “Did I pass? I get the job?” Terry asked in between kissing you stupid. 

You nodded and licked your lips, tasting more of yourself. “You got it, you got it,” you panted. 

“I don’t have a condom, but–”

“I’m clean and on the pill,” you said. You kept up with that shit religiously, setting an alarm and everything. You were too chicken to try any other methods. 

“I swear I’m clean,” he said, going back to kissing your lips. You moaned, and rubbed against his body. 

“Fuck me,” you whined. 

Terry chuckled. “Keep begging, chipmunk,” he groaned. He managed to continue kissing you while he ditched his jeans and underwear. His jeans dropped to the floor with a loud flop. His shirt went next, his muscles bunching as he lifted it off of him. 

He removed your shirt as well, hands coming around to grab your titties. He pushed them together, lowering his mouth to suck on both nipples at the same time. You jerked and whined, grinding on the couch. 

“Please, Terry, fuck me. Fuck me, I need it. I need your big dick to split me open,” you begged.

Terry groaned and moved his right hand between you. He rubbed his dick up and down your folds, gathering up all the slick he could to coat his dick. He pushed into your entrance and your pussy started talking. 

“Mmm, growl at me,” he moaned. “Fuck.” 

He dipped the head of his dick in and out of you, slowly, your pussy doing more than growling as he toyed with your aching hole. You cried every time his tip stretched you. He was easily the biggest you’d ever taken. 

Terry put his left hand on your chest and moved his right hand up to your clit. This thumb pressed on your clit and a strangled noise burst from your throat. “I need you inside me,” you whined. “Please, please.” Your eyes watered.

You were going to lose your mind in a minute. You would dissolve into a puddle of goo or start barking like a dog if he teased you any more. 

Terry moved his thumb in circles around your clit, causing you to sputter and moan, completely lost to the sensation. “Eyes on me,” he commanded.

Your eyes snapped open to him. To the softest gray and darkest blue of his eyes. His eyebrows curved in a severe arch. The same focus he had while chopping wood, he brought to killing you slowly from the inside out. 

His thumb made your pussy relax enough for him to sink in deeper, further, aided by the fresh slick leaking out of you. If it weren’t for the throw blanket, you were sure you’d have to buy Mr. Omar a brand new couch. 

“So wet. Fuck, you’re gripping my shit tough,” he moaned. He flicked his thumb harder.

You sniffled, tears running down your cheeks. “Please, I can’t. I can’t no more!” You yelled. 

Terry leaned down, pressing his lips to yours. You moaned and played with his thick tongue, licked his juicy lips, and gently bit his bottom lip. He moaned. “I say when you’re done,” he said.

“Oh fuck,” you said as you lost all control over your body. Terry pushed all the way down to the hilt with a guttural groan. Veins popped out of his neck as he used you to hold some of his weight. 

His dick throbbed, pulsed in time with his own heartbeat inside you. His dick pushed up against your sweet spot and before long, you were cumming on his dick. 

“Yes, yes, cream this dick. Show me you need that shit,” he moaned. He pulled back until he was almost out and then he shoved back in. He increased his strokes the more he did it, your pussy growling on his dick, while he rolled his hips. 

Your nails scratched at his chest as he moved his hands to either side of your stomach. The couch dipped with his weight as he pounded your pussy, punished her for whatever perceived slight against him. 

“Terry!” You screamed. 

“Scream it, baby,” he moaned. He pounded faster, nothing but wet, nasty smacks echoing in the room. Your pussy welcomed him in easily. He glided and fucked you to within an inch of your life. 

“Why you fucking me like this?” You panted. Your thighs were weak against his hips. He pounded so fast that the hair on his thighs created a slight burn on yours. The burn only seeped into your skin, driving your pleasure through the roof. The next one was gonna kill you. 

“Because you cum so pretty. Give me another,” he demanded. How many was his limit? How many would he pull from you? You were scared to find out. 

Tears ran in tiny rivers down your cheeks. The pleasure was too much. Too big. Too wild. Too uncontrollable and fuck, you greedily wanted more. Your head flopped from side to side. You didn’t have another one in you. You couldn’t give him what wasn’t there.

His head dipped to nip at your chin, your neck, and your breast. He suckled your nipple into his mouth, teasing it with his teeth. Like a wilted flower with fresh water, you came back to life. 

Electricity buzzed beneath your skin. Terry slipped out and then slapped his dick against your clit. Your pussy juices squelched and droplets bounced off. “Keep taking this dick like a good girl,” Terry moaned.

“Fuck, yes, Terry. Terry, Terry,” you moaned. 

“Cream that shit, fuck,” Terry moaned.

He fucked another orgasm from you. Your nails dug in hard enough to draw blood as you screamed with pleasure, your voice drowning out the roaring wind outside. Terry stroked three more times before finally releasing his nut.

He bathed your insides with hot, throbbing splashes of his cum. He jerked above you, head lolling from side to side as he rode out his climax. 

You both breathed heavily, bodies slick with sweat from the sex and from the still lit fire. You kissed each other with little pecks, needing air too much to lock lips. “Let me taste,” you said.

“Fuck,” Terry groaned. He slipped out of you carefully. You hissed as his glorious pipe slid out of you completely. His cum gushed out, pushed out by your pussy. You couldn’t stop clenching as you got onto your stomach.

You opened your mouth and looked at Terry. He stood up with one foot on the ground and one knee planted on the couch cushion. You gripped onto his waist and pulled him closer. Without hands, he made his dick jerk to attention, still fully hard. You took him in your mouth and hummed at the mix of your flavors. 

You relaxed your jaw and took him in as far as he wanted to go. You controlled your breathing as he gripped your head. He pushed you onto his dick, making you suckle the full length of him. Not all of it fit, so his dick started to poke against your cheek. 

“Lick it all up for me,” he said. His voice. His voice. He could command you to walk through burning flames and you would if it meant that he slutted you out like this every day from now on. 

You suckled him deep, your eyes never leaving his. You communicated without words that the final chink was in place. You were his. Locked in. Mind to mind. Body to body. Soul to soul. You were his to toy with, play with, his to do whatever he fucking wanted. Because you knew down to your bones that no one else would do it for you. No one else would be able to redefine the meaning of sex for you. 

His stare pulled you deeper and deeper into the pool of his eyes. Your eyes drooped as you let yourself get used. He thrust into your mouth, pulling your throat down on his dick. You gagged a bit and he moaned and jerked his hips. He lessened his strokes but kept up the pace. 

Saliva and his pre-cum mixed in your mouth and dribbled down your chin. Your gawking was loud and disgusting as you sucked him down. 

“You’re fucking perfect. Fucking perfect. Fuck, I’m finna bust,” he groaned, his chest rumbling with a growl.

His entire shaft throbbed as he held your head in place while he spilled down your throat. You swallowed his delicious cum, moaning at his taste. His eyes rolled back and you whined at the image. 

You suckled on his tip like candy and he stuttered with a chuckle. “Okay, okay, okay,” he tapped out, gently pushing at your shoulders. 

You giggled and then sat back and wiped your mouth. “Fuck. What the fuck was that?” You asked. 

Terry grinned. He leaned over, kissed you, and then sat next to you. He pulled you into his side, running his hand up and down your back. Your body felt more than relaxed. Floating on cloud nine in a way that you didn’t know was possible. 

“Ever since we met, I’ve been imagining what I’d do to you,” he said. 

“I love the way your mind works,” you huffed.

Terry chuckled and kissed your temple. “I’m just happy to be of service,” he said.

You tapped his chest. “I can’t stand you,” you said.

Terry rained kisses down the side of your face until he could nibble on your ear. “That wasn’t what you said earlier.”

“I cannot be held accountable for the shit I say while you’re balls deep,” you said, holding up your hand. 

Terry gripped your hand with a chuckle and brought it to his chest. He stared into your eyes and then kissed your hand. Then he moved your hand lower and lower, a grin spreading across his face. Your hand wrapped around his thickening dick. 

“Already?!” You asked. 

He shrugged. “Everything about you turns me the fuck on,” he said. 

Terry made quick work of putting out the fire. Then, he brought you into the shower to ‘clean off’. All he managed to do was haul you against the shower wall and dig into your guts once more, filling you to the brim with his searing hot cum. 

You dried each other off on the way to the bedroom before falling asleep as soon as your face hit the pillow. You smiled as you drifted off, the later half of your book filling in from your imagination. With Terry as inspiration, you had enough material to fill three books. 

The next morning, you were on fire. Well, not literally, but Terry’s body heat ensured you never needed a heater or a throw blanket again.

Feeling you move, Terry woke up and kissed your neck. He was curled behind you, his large arm dropped across your stomach. He was too cute when he first woke up. Eyes blinking open. Licking his lips. Face fussy and scrunched up.

“Hm, good morning to you too,” you said, wiggling your ass against his morning wood. 

Terry chuckled and moved his hand to your waist to still your movements. “Don’t play with me,” he said.

You continued to wiggle your ass. “Well, it is Christmas morning. Don’t I get a present?” You asked.

Terry hummed in your ear. “What kind of present?” He asked.

“You,” you said. 

“It’s my pleasure to serve,” he whispered in your ear before lowering himself in the bed, beneath the covers. Your legs fell open as he adjusted himself in between and went to work, licking and suckling and nibbling around your clit and entrance until you were a ball of putty in his hands.

Incoherent nonsense spilled from your lips as he made you glimpse heaven two times before coming up for air. He kissed you, face shiny once more with your essence. You licked it off of him, licked the corners of his mouth, and suckled his bottom lip. 

Terry groaned, sliding into you with ease. “Nasty ass,” he moaned.

But fuck, he was still so big. So nasty. He pounded into you, giving you long deep strokes. He lowered himself closer to your body so that your nipples rubbed against his chest. 

“You fucking me too good!” You screamed.

Terry moaned and closed his eyes. He placed kisses all over your chest, neck, and lips, keeping pace. He carved a Terry shaped hole in your pussy and in your heart, one that he would only be able to fill. 

“Cum on this dick. Let me feel it,” he begged.

Your moans increased. Like his words were just what you needed. You clenched around his dick and he groaned, hips jerking forward, before you finally gave in and gave him what he wanted. 

“Shit, fuck,” he moaned as he came with you, dick twitching and pulsing. You would never get sick of that feeling. Never, ever, ever. 

“Merry Christmas, chipmunk,” he said, panting for air.

“Merry Christmas, Terry.”

Terry spent the remainder of your stay fucking you into oblivion. Every morning, you woke up with new ideas, new tweaks to make the story better and improve on it. The sex scenes, in your very humble opinion, were the spiciest things you’d ever written. Filthy.

When you shared some snippets with your writing community, they about fell out with gleeful gifs and unhinged keyboard smashing. 

Every night, Terry fulfilled his promise of giving you plenty to work with for your books. He twisted you in more ways than one. Folded you like a pretzel. Moved you in positions you’d never heard of. And each session left you so spent, your brain unplugged for the night. 

On your last day there, you spent it wrapped up in the bed with Terry only coming up for air long enough to snack. And then he’d call you chipmunk or give you The Look. The one where he dipped his chin and his eyes lured you in. 

Then you were kissing, touching, and exploring. Then your hand was wrapped around his dick and his fingers were buried in your pussy to the knuckle. You made it a game on who would cum first. You should’ve known you’d lose that battle. Especially when he commanded that you cum on his fingers with that deep voice and Carolina accent.

He would shove his wet fingers into your mouth so you could taste yourself while he fucked you from behind. Or from the front. Or from the side. 

The side was becoming a favorite because you could look at him while still giving him access to your ass. He would smack it and squeeze it. Then you would hold your ass cheeks apart so he could watch his dick disappear inside you. 

Then he’d make a show of licking his thumb and swirling it around your clit to set you off like a bottle rocket. Then you’d scream and scream his name and beg and beg for him to fill you to the brim one last time. 

Just one last time. You just needed to feel it soaking your walls one last time. Really, the last time. Because you did have to get on the road soon. 

You promised to find a way to spend time together. You weren’t that far from the rental and since he had his own cabin, it wouldn’t be so bad to arrange dates and fuck sessions.

You didn’t know what kind of Christmas miracle this was or who upstairs was looking out for you, but Terry Richmond was the best present ever.

Merry Christmas, my loves! Love ya'll so bad!

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 @blackgurlnhermoods @flydotty @sageispunk

@semi-yah @halfreal-and-halffiction @motheroffae @melaninpov @pinkpantheris

@slutsareteacherstoo @blackerthings @dreamsinfocus @brattyfics @mermaidchansons

@monaeesstuff @henneseyhoe @blowmymbackout @charismablu @playgurlxoxo

@misskiki90 @miyuhpapayuh @satoruya @starcrossedxwriter @yamst3rdamctrl

@steampunkprincess147 @sweettea-and-honeybutter @theblacklewinsky @soft-persephone @notapradagurl7

@thegreatlibraryofalex @amyhennessyhouse @hihellogoodbyebruh @becauseimswagman1

[thatone-girly]

PRETTY GIRL

Summary: Six months postpartum and Cleo is still insecure about herself. Terry has had enough.

Terry Richmond x Black!OC

18+ Content! || porn with little to no plot, married couple, slight daddy kink, p in v, mentions of postpartum depression, mentions of insecurity

Cleo gasped, the faint sound getting caught in her throat as her nails dug into the meaty flesh of Terry’s arms. Her toes curled tightly as the tremble in her thighs intensified. The constant jabbing and stimulation of her g-spot due to Terry’s deep, digging strokes sent intoxicating waves of pleasure through her body, leaving her looking fucked-out and dick drunk.

Another whine left her swollen, parted lips, eyes rolling back in her head as her knees came together in an attempt to slow Terry’s mid-paced strokes. “Mm-mm…”, he hummed, his right hand moving to smack her thigh. “Open them legs. Let me see that pretty ass pussy.”

He didn’t give her much of a chance to follow his commands before he hooked his huge hands around the back of her knees and pushed them up to her chest. His gaze stayed fixed on her creaming tightness, watching the milky white ring she left grow thinker and larger. “She so pretty…”, he mumbled, “just like you.”

His plump, pink lips wedged between his pearly white teeth as his eyebrows furrowed in concentration. “Look at her.”, he took his right hand off her thigh and cupped his hand around he jaw, forcing her to look at their connected parts. “Look how she’s creamin’ around me.”

Cleo blinked to clear her hazy vision, focusing in on his length moving in and out of her with ease. Seeing first hand the sticky mess she was making made her even wetter, causing her nails to dig deeper into Terry’s arms. “Terryyy…”, Cleo whined, her eyes fluttering closed as her head fell back against the sheets.

Terry, whose hand had moved from her jaw to around her neck, hummed in response. “What’s the matter, mama?”

Breath partially taken from his firm grip on her neck, Cleo released a choked moan as the tremble in her legs intensified. “Talk to me, baby”, Terry mumbled, his grip tightening softly, “tell daddy what’s wrong.”

Cleo whined in response, her walls tightening around him as her toes curled tightly in the air, “y-you’re so deep, baby.”

A cocky grin spread across his face, his bottom lip moving to rest between his teeth once more. He told her this would happen. He told her all it would take was just one more time for him to catch her looking at herself negatively in the mirror, one more time to catch her starving herself to lose weight, one more time for her to talk down on herself. One more time and he was going to do something about it.

He made it clear from the first time she made a comment about her postpartum body that he would not tolerate his wife being insecure about the body that carried their child. But for a while, he did. He knew postpartum depression was a bitch, and he saw it take its ugly toll on Cleo. He hated seeing her so upset about the changes her body had gone through bringing their baby girl into the world, and quite frankly, he didn’t understand. Hell, he loved it.

He loved everything. The way her hair grew, the way her skin became glass, the way stretch marks were visible on her thighs, ass, and stomach. The way her chest grew, hips expanded, and her ass got fatter? Oh, you know he was loving that. He couldn’t understand why she didn’t love it. Honestly, he didn’t want to. One too many negative comments about herself and he had had enough.

He told her the next time she said something negative about herself, he’d fuck the shit out of her. If he couldn’t talk her into feeling beautiful, he would fuck her into feeling beautiful. He made it clear that he would go so deep inside of her that she wouldn’t even remember what she was insecure about.

And she didn’t. She barely even remembered her name right now.

His name seemed to be the only thing she remembered, because in the moment, it was the only thing she could manage to say. Beside the occasional whines, whimpers, and cries, the only thing leaving her mouth was Terry’s name. But that wasn’t what he wanted to hear.

“Look at me.”, he commanded, his deep green eyes burning into her face. Cleo peeled her eyes open, locking eyes with her husband. They held intense eye contact, the effects over their intimate dance causing butterflies to swarm in Cleo’s stomach. “Tell me what I wanna hear.”

Cleo didn’t have to ask what it was he wanted her to say. He’d been saying it to her since the day they met, and after she had the baby, he said it ten times more. Now he wanted her to say it.

But Cleo didn’t want to say it. She didn’t think it was true.

Noticing her eyes starting to close, Terry smacked her thigh with his free hand while putting more pressure on her throat with the other. “Don’t look away from me, Cleo.”

Cleo yelped at the harsh contact his large hand made to her thigh as her eyes shot open. “Tell me what I wanna hear.”, he repeated, his hips moving in ways that damn near made it impossible for Cleo to keep her eyes open, let alone talk. “Come on, baby…say it for me.”

Despite his pussy-wetting words and leg shaking strokes, Cleo still refused to say it.

Terry said nothing. Instead, he began to retreat from her walls and let go of her neck. Whining from the feel of his exit, Cleo hurriedly reached out to grab his arm. “No, don’t stop! Please, don’t stop, it feels so good!”

At her pleading words, Terry slowly pushed back inside of her. “Well stop playing and tell me what I wanna hear.”

Gasping as he stretched her again, Cleo’s back arched off of the bed as he inched closer and closer to that sweet spot of hers. She knew him and she knew how petty he was. He was purposely avoiding hitting her spot until she said what he wanted her to say.

Burying his head in her neck, Terry peppered kisses along her neck as he mumbled, “Come on, mama. Let me hear you say it.”

Whining as her walls contracted around him, Cleo mumbled, “I’m beautiful.”

“What you say?”, Terry mumbled as his lips pressed repeatedly against the sweet spot on her neck. “I ain’t hear you.”

Cursing under her breath, Cleo fought not to lose her damn mind as she draped an arm over Terry’s neck and both voluntarily and involuntarily raked her nails over his shoulder blade. “I’m beautiful…”, she repeated in her whining tone, her free hand reaching up beside her head to grip the plush pillow. Cleo wanted to slap the shit out of Terry for having her like this. Better yet, she wanted to slap the shit out of herself for pushing him away for so long. Her insecurities kept her from damn near seeing heaven, and damn was she mad about it.

Terry needed to say nothing to let Cleo know her words had been accepted. All he needed to do was push his hips a little bit deeper, and there it was.

Cleo needed to say nothing to let him know that he’d found that spot, because the involuntary bucking of her hips along with the trembling of her legs and gasp of pleasure, Terry knew. His low chuckle of contentment confirmed that as he lifted himself from the crook of her neck to balance himself on his hands and continue to roll his hips in that same pattern. Looking down at his dazed wife, Terry chuckled once more and took his bottom lip between his teeth, asking, “I’m hittin’ that spot, huh?”

Cleo, in her otherworldly pleasure, could only grip the pillow tighter and continue to let her sweet love sounds slip past her parted lips.

Terry could do nothing but admire her when she was like this. Her legs spread all over the bed, hands clenched in the sheets, hair wild as hell. She was a disheveled, sweaty, moaning mess. But still to him, she was the prettiest thing in the world.

He watched as her tired brown eyes rolled back into her head and her head fell back against the bed as she tried not to be too loud and wake their baby girl across the hall. He took a second to let his head fall back and avert his vision to the ceiling from both pleasure and to take a breather, because if he kept watching Cleo, he would get her pretty ass pregnant all over again.

Hearing her whine his name again in that familiar tone, he quickly returned his attention to her. She was close.

“What’s the matter, baby?”, he cooed as he moved his right hand down to her bundle of nerves and used the pad of his thumb to rub slow, sloppy circles, “you gon’ cum for me? hmm?”

Moaning aloud in response to his unexpected touch, Cleo’s hand quickly moved down to his hip in an attempt to halt his movement just for a second so she could get some air back in her damn lungs. “W-wait, T…”, she murmured, fighting to keep her eyes from doing yet another roll inward, but damn did she feel good. Hell, she could barely talk without moaning.

Shaking his head, Terry’s hips continued to move, fighting back against her weak pushes. “Nah”, he mumbled, his thumb continuing its rotation on her pleasure point, “don’t tap out on me now, Cleo. Gimmie that nut. Let me have it.”

And just like that, his wish was her command. “Oh, f-fuck, Terry!” Her volume control was out the window, as was her mind as an orgasm sent from God himself ran its course. His name upon her lips was music to Terry’s ears as he continued his movements, helping her ride out her high.

Motions slowly coming to a halt as her body relaxed, Terry chuckled as he watched her pleasure cost his shaft in creamy coats. Finally being allowed to catch her breath, Cleo’s chest rose and fell at a semi-rapid pace. “Terry…what the fuck?”, she whined as she raised a hand to cover her face.

Chuckling once more, he gently removed her hand from face before peppering kisses all around it. She smiled weakly as he whispered, “You did so good for me, baby. I’m so proud of you.”

With more kisses to her face and her lips, he then murmured, “but I know you got some more in there for me. Gon’ head and turn over.”

[keyaho]

.summary. a continuation of the previous chapter. Terry makes a bold move on Nami and gives her some well earned softness.

.kinks. choking, collaring, implied oral, sexual intercourse, suggestive language. 3021 words

.warnings. minors do not engage, you are responsible for reading material that is age appropriate. this story is written for those 21+. this chapter is a bit shorter as it's a continuation.

“Give me that pussy,’ Terry growled. 

The sound was deep in his throat. His already low voice was deeper, richer, hungrier. Nami could only moan as he stuffed her pussy with his dick. On her hands and knees, Terry’s hand pushed down on her shoulder and pulled up on her hips. 

She wiggled her hips backwards, swallowing his thickness in inch by inch. It was a little past two in the afternoon and she was fucked out. How he was able to draw out pleasure from her made Nami cross her eyes. She focused on his hips, the way they pounded against hers, and how his balls slapped up against her clit. She was salivating herself, drool coating her chin and chest, wetting up the sheets.  

"I know that shit feels good,' he cooed, his tongue lapping at the shell of her ear. 

Two orgasms in and he was fucking her towards her third. He’d already filled her with his cum and was itching to do it again. She was a mess between her legs. A creamy white mess. 

“Sir,’ she whined as his stopped moving. 

“Mh?” He asks coolly, ‘whatchu’ need besides this dick, Nami? You shouldn’t be asking for anything else right now.” 

Her lips puckered together as she whispered so breathlessly he barely heard it. “Okay.” 

Terry had given her a little more vocal leeway. Her replies had to be respectful with no cursing. He’d let her little, okay, slip because he could feel her shaking in his hands. She was still sensitive from this morning and he knew it was pushing on uncomfortable. Terry brought her back from sub space a while ago and was keeping her engaged to avoid a second slip so soon. 

“Can I share something,’ he says, his thrusts quickening as he pulled her up and threw his arm around her neck. His other landed on her belly, locking her in place while supporting her lower body before he rallied his strength and fucked into her. 

Nami stared up at the ceiling. His bicep and forearm applied heavy pressure to her neck, the choking method felt like a boa constrictor. His arm was so thick. He applied just enough pressure for her to feel it while cutting off just enough air she soaked his dick from the pressure and he could feel it leaking on his thighs. 

“There you go,’ he whispered, very close to her ear, ‘wet that dick up, pretty girl.” 

He listened to her cries and screams. Egged on by her vocal offerings, Terry rubbed hand down between her legs, thumbing the sensitive clit that was swollen and needy. 

“I can’t wait for you to touch me,’ he grunted. “Those soft pretty hands on me? I. Can't. Wait.” He punctuated his words with hip shattering thrusts.

“Please, please, please,’ she begged, voice thick with desire just for the simple act of touch. 

“And that’s why I’m making you wait,’ he hissed. “I like hearing you beg.” 

Nami was at his control, arched back into his vice grip as her pussy fluttered around his dick. “Because as soon as I do, I’m at your mercy,’ he admitted, ‘and baby, I just can’t have that.”

Terry leaned against the cart, his attention divided between the cart filling with Christmas ornaments, a Oreo Frappuccino he kept secretly sipping, and Nami, who was pacing the isle. He made the mistake of eating the last of her doughnut holes and when he slid his seat back in the car, egging on her on to suck his dick, she got out and walked towards the store, a pout on her lips. The last thing she needed was more sugar than her frappuccino and the doughnuts had been grabbed from a street vendor back at the market. Though he bought them, he denied wanting one, until his hand dove into the bag and pulled out the last one. It just so happened to be raspberry filled. Her favorite. 

"Nami,' Terry called out, bumping her thigh with the cart. 

"You ate my doughnut." 

"I can go back to get you more,' he offered, again. 

"No. I don't want them anymore." 

"Then come drink this,' he said, holding up the cold confectionary drink. 

Nami frowned. "It's melted and I don't want it anymore." 

Terry let out a small laugh, his face twisting into a smile. "You're upset over the doughnut?" 

She placed the pink ornaments back on the shelf and faced him. 

"You said you didn't want any!" She replied, voice just above a whisper. 

Nami grabbed the cold drink from him and wrapped her lips around the straw before taking a long sip. She yanked it out her mouth as her head began to chill. 

"Do you want more?" 

"You already asked me that." 

"No, I said I would go back. I'm asking if you want more." 

Nami walked around him with her cup, disappearing down another aisle as he tapped his fingers on the cart before following her.

It had been her idea to decorate a tree at his place since he didn't have one. She had her own, but the chance to get a new tree and ornaments took over. After Terry and her had showered and dress, she begged him to bring her out to find a tree. Though they were at her place, she wanted to put the tree at his. The cart was already filled with ornaments in green and silver. She had asked for his input and he was terrible at it. Picking out ornaments that didn't match in color. Left up to him, the tree would have been neon orange, black, and gold. 

"You mad at me?" 

He had stepped up behind her, his hand on her waist as she looked through the different color and shape of boxed lights. The drink in her hand chilled her palm. Blocked by his body, Terry slipped his hands down the front of her skirt. 

"Sir,' she mumbled, 'someone can see." 

He looked around at the semi busy store and shrugged. Pulling his hand back, he patted the side of her thigh. 

"Then hurry up. I have something for you anyway." 

It was a few things actually and he was glad she pushed him to put the tree up at his place. Everything he had for her would stay there unless he moved it. Nami watched him walk to another aisle before she followed behind him. 

"Wait,' she tossed the drink in a trash and caught up to him at the stockings. "What do you have?" 

She stood there with her hands behind her back. Looking up at him, Nami pursed her lips in question. He hadn't given anything away and she wasn't sure where they were in their relationship to buy him gifts. That must have shown on her face because he leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead. 

"Don't worry about it Nami,' he said.

Her shoulders dropped a little as the tension released. She would still get him something, but she at least had time and another opportunity to view his place to see what he might like or want without directly asking. Terry was a quiet man and his house looked like a page from a minimalist magazine. From what she saw of his room all his things wer put away, shoes lined up perfectly along the wall, no stray clothes, and even his fridge was organized. Everything had it's place, including her. 

Nami, anticipating what his surprise were, found the lights she wanted and tossed enough in the cart to string around the 8-foot tree. 

Nami made Terry move the tree around five times before it ended up back where it first started; by dining table right before the hardwood floors changed to tile. Her black tree skirt stood out against the frosted leave christmas tree. She hadn't paid attention but the tree also came with little red berries on some of the branches, giving it depth and character. While he found an extension cord, Name began placing the pink and white ornaments. When he came back, he knelt beside her and plugged in the extension cord for her. He kissed her bare leg and up her thigh before wrapping her arms around her waist.

"You are distracting me." She mumbled.

She clenched the ornament in her hands and looked down at him. He pushed up her shirt and kiss her belly, mouthed around her waist as his head disappeared under her shirt. The warm air sent chills over her body as Terry's tongue licked at her inner thighs.

"Finish the tree, baby,' he replied.

This was the first time she had spent a holiday with a man in almost four years. It was weird, considering their dynamic, and comforting. This past semester had been hell before Terry came into her life. The balance and structure helped her flourish. She didn't dread going to class. She was present and focused. She wiggled her toes and leaned forward, trying to put the balls on the branches, but he was taking up space.

"Sir,' she wiggled her legs, his forehead was resting on her stomach.

"Nah,' he says. His fingers pinch the back of her thighs and she yelps. "Try that again."

"Oh! Sorry, Daddy,' she relaxes in his hold. It was hard to tell of his changes when she couldn't see him.

Nami leaned forward again and was startled when Terry picked up her leg and hooked it on his shoulder. He held her tight so she kept her balance, but she hated she couldn't see his face. Nami twisted around, searching for other ornaments when her leg buckled. Terry's tongue had slipped out his mouth and pressed against her clit.

"How am I supposed to,' Nami whimpered.

Terry had started to lower her to the floor, the ornaments were out of reach at this point and her legs were pushed apart. She reached down and pulled up her shirt, his dark green eyes and focused on her. As handy as the no panty rule was, sometimes she wanted to throw them on. His mouth was lethal and she knew when he locked in on her like that she wasn't going out without at least two orgasms.

Terry tilted his head upwards and she followed his gaze. Rolling over, Nami crawled towards the decorations and let out a small 'oof' when Terry grabbed her ankle. She had one of the boxes in her hand and laughed as he dragged her and the box back towards him.

When he finally let her finish, he was watching her from the couch. She moved around the tree with ease, changing the spots where she had placed an ornament or flower. Terry watched Nami admire the tree when she was done. His apartment looked a little more festive and it wasn't a total eyesore among his cleaner aesthetic.

"Come sit."

She moved towards Terry as he sat up. He reached into the table and for a second Nami thought he was getting her cuffs. Instead he pulled out a black square box and placed it on her lap. She knew it was kink related, but what else could he have? The anal ring he given her earlier was replaced with a slightly larger one already.

Opening the box, she shut it just as quickly and then gave him a surprised look.

"I was not expecting this,' she says, opening the box to stare at the diamond tennis necklace. It was very simple, dainty, and perfect.

"Collaring is important. We'll be in spaces of like minded people and I want them to know you're spoken for. Permanently."

He took the box from her and had her kneel between his legs with her back to him. She moved her curls out of the way as he latched the necklace around her neck, officially making it her collar. She turned around and he admired it. The way it sat against her collarbones, how it sparkled just enough, and the goofy and apprehensive smile on his subs face.

"What's wrong?" He asks.

"Nothing wrong,' she says, 'I….its a bit overwhelming."

It was a representation of their relationship and her acceptance of it. Nami reached up to touch it while excusing herself to the guest bathroom. She looked in the mirror at her collar. She could feel his expectations now. The necklace was beautiful and light, but it was heavy with responsibility. After about ten minutes, Terry knocked on the bathroom door.

"Nami,' he said, 'are you okay?"

She looked away from her reflection and opened the bathroom door. "Yes. I just needed to process what this means."

"It means you're my only submissive. It means you trust me with your body. I get to call you mine."

Nami nodded, but he knew what the problem. She needed assurance. She needed to be told.

"You're my submissive in bed and when I need you to be otherwise. You're also my girl,' he saw the change in her eyes, the way the softened to him. "I'm going to take you out as much as I slut you out."

Nami next surprise made her overly excited to the point she bounced up and down when he told her. Now that he had been able to indulge in her the least he could do was really reward her for being so good. It made shivers slide down his spine, but the pleasure on the other end of it kept him hard from the moment he told her until now. In the guest room, her last surprise was in his, he told her to get comfortable. Her back was against the headboard and her legs were spread. Terry had crawled between them and kissed her gently before exhaling deeply. He could see the excitement in her eyes. He’d finally given her permission to touch him and she instantly had been over zealous. She was bubbling with excitement as he complied with her want. He turned his body, his back to her chest, and she adjusted herself some so that he was partially on the pillows beside them. Nami ran her nose along his neck and watched his hands begin to clench at his sides.

Her tongue flattened against his neck and he jerked to the side away from her.

“You playin’,” he hissed.

Her ten minutes of exploring his half naked body were winding down. Nami kissed his shoulder, her right hand rubbing down his chest and stomach. The muscles clenched and the tent in his sweat grew.

“Oh?” She whispered, her fingertips snaking beneath the waist of the sweats. “Can I touch?” She asked. “Pwease, Daddy?” Her nails made small circles on his lower abdomen and Terry stared up at the ceiling as he tried to pull control from thin air. He was shaking as pleasure coursed through his body and he knew if she touched him what would happen.

“Yeah, go ahead baby. Touch Daddy.”

Nami slipped her hand in his sweats and he watched then felt her dainty palm wrap around the base of his dick. Pre cum leaked from the top and her thumb swirling the mess down to the base of his dick on one long and slow stroke.

“Oh fuck,’ he groaned, sinking into her embrace.

Her other hand was on his neck and she wrapped her hand around it to apply some pressure. She didn't waste time pulling him free from his sweats. Instead, she stroked him and they both watched the way his body began to tremble each time her hand moved.

"Shit." He cursed, his foot planting on the bed.

Nami stopped her hand at that, her index finger tapping his neck. "Put that leg down,' she said, a little commanding essence in her sweet voice. Terry did as he was told, grinning, but softly moaning as she resumed playing with his dick because that's exactly what she was doing. Playing.

He could feel her breath on the side of his face. Her breaths were long and drawn out to match the slow stroke of her hand. Downwards, she breathed in. Upwards, she exhaled. Her hand around his throat tightened and he could feel the points of her stiletto shaped nails dig into his skin. The pinch of the acrylics made his eyes roll to the back of his head. He melted into her arms, his hands clenched the sheets and the moving tent in his sweats pulled deep guttural moans from his chest.

“You’re so big Daddy,’ she whispered, her tongue dancing around the shell of his ear. “So thick,” she mumbled in awe.

Her hand barely wrapped around him. Nami glanced at the timer and began to slow her strokes. As much as she was enjoying it, she didn't want to get caught up and have to stop. Terry sat up, slight confusion but then the timer went off and they both jumped at the shrill sound. Nami pulled her hands away and placed them in her lap. When Terry turned to look at her, she wore a large grin on her face. She was more than please with herself for making him feel the way he did.

She noticed his face was scrunched up and he hd turned so his boyd was face her. Between her legs, Terry grabbed her hand, pinning it above her head with his own. He took the other and tugged her down so he could rest between her legs. He added the other hand to his grasp, and she dropped her legs to the bed, creating more room for him. Terry's dick was hard pressed against her sex, heavy, and hard.

"You're getting some rules for touching tomorrow,' he says while tugging down his sweats.

"Oh,' Nami replies, already lifting her shirt towards her head. She couldn't hid her smile from finally wearing him down.

He stoped it at her hands and twists it to keep her hands bound. He could feel the heat from her sex and with one well practiced stroke, he was buried in her cunt for what seemed like the hundredth time that day.

I went through my tag list and removed blogs with no ages, lack of interaction, or the blog just looked empty. If you were removed and would like to be added back at least have your age in your blog.

@nayaesworld @peachbuttetfly @heauxvibez @avoidthings @mymindisneverhere @eilujion @heytaewrites  @insidefeelingofanadult @captainwithoutmakingitlove  @kindofaintrovert @jimmybutlrr @beenathembo  @virgomess  @theereina @randomhood @ash-ketchumzzz @megamindsecretlair @nubiagurllll @zillasvilla

@wabi-sabi1090 @iterum-incipi @liquorlaughslove @eilujion @taureanstargirl @mzv11@Disc0fair @prettyfilmz @simplyzeeka @heytaewrites vivaalenaa theogbadbitch

Insertcatchynamerighthere writingsbytee pocketsizedpanther

[thefantasyride]

Holiday Bliss

Terry Richmond x OC Black Reader

I've been wanting to write something for Terry for 4 months and I wanted to post ON Christmas and missed the shit by mere seconds. I'm also a procrastinator and terrible at staying focused so I could finish this ON TIME, but I've had this idea since October so I'm posting the shit anyway. Enjoy and Merry (late) Christmas! 🎄🫶🏾

Warning(s): Smut + Fluff

Ryan and Terry decided to spend the holidays together in a cabin getaway, but Ryan had some plans of her own. 🤭

They created an advent calendar of random activities throughout the month up until Christmas Eve. Today’s activities included making gingerbread cookies and swapping one small gift and opening their stocking stuffers.

Ryan carefully iced the last gingerbread cookie before biting into it. 

Her stocking stuffers included her favorite beauty products from Sephora. Terry was sure to get nothing but gift sets. He didn’t have to do much snooping to figure it out. He paid attention to what she always bought, which ones she mentioned wanting to try, and of course what she had in her cart. Terry’s included travel minis too. His favorite hand lotion, gum, new colognes he’d been wanting to try, and a Swiss Army knife.

Terry took his phone out to snap candids of Ryan in her festive headband, robe, and socks. 

“I love your hair like this.” Terry smoothed loose strands away from her face as he stroked her cheek. 

“Thank you baby.” Ryan batted her eyelashes, making a mental note to squeeze a silk press into the hair rolodex every now and then. 

She adjusted her candy cane headband and smoothed out her silky tresses. She sat in his lap to take selfies with him.

“These are gonna be so cute in the scrapbook. I have some other pictures I wanna take too…”

Terry scrolled through the photos smiling.

Ryan stood in front of Terry as she untied her red and white candy cane robe to reveal a candy cane crop top with the matching g-string and thigh high socks. Her pierced nipples pressed against the thin material of her tank top. 

“Shit…” Terry began snapping pics as she blew kisses at the camera and did her signature duck lips with the peace sign. 

She turned around slowly to show off her plump backside. She made her cheeks jiggle as she bit her lip and looked over her shoulder. Terry leaned forward to record her little show as he took in her curvy frame. Thick thighs, soft tummy, and a plump ass with the titties to match all on display just for him.

“I have something else I wanna show you.” 

“Oh yeah? What’s that?” .

She bent over slowly to hold her ankles and shake her ass cheeks as a red butt plug with a green jewel came into view. 

“Goddamn…” 

She continued to make her cheeks move like water. “You like what you see?” 

“Hell yeah… How long you had this in?” Terry was mesmerized by the way her ass moved with the green jewel nestled in the middle. 

She giggled at the concentration on his face. “Since this morning.” 

Terry hummed as he reached out to rub her ass and thick thighs. 

Ryan kneeled in front of Terry running her almond nails over his muscular thighs, causing the hairs on his arms and legs to stand up.

“Oooh what’s this?” Ryan questioned in a sing songy tone. She rubbed his growing erection before reaching her hand into his boxer briefs. She stared into his stormy eyes as she stroked his dick until it was standing straight up. She spit on the head as she stroked more. 

“Nice and hard just how I like it.”

Terry grunted low in his throat as his dick slapped against Ryan’s tongue as she flicked it across his tip and sucked the head. 

“Shit, Ry…” 

Ryan moaned as she slurped and stroked his dick in tandem. Terry gathered her hair in a ponytail as she pressed her hands against his strong thighs and sucked his dick with no hands. 

“There you go, suck that shit.” 

She began to massage his balls after she spit on his dick and slurped it back up. The combination of her moans and slurping was music to Terry’s ears. 

“Fuck I’m finna bust.” 

“Mmmm give me that nut.” She licked the tip before sucking it again and Terry groaned and grunted as he unloaded in her mouth. Ryan greedily licked it all up. 

“Goddamn, girl…” 

Terry was still hard. He helped her up from her kneeling spot and pulled her into his lap, gripping her ass as he slipped her tongue and sucked on her bottom lip and neck. Ryan grinded against his dick, causing friction to her sensitive clit. The crotch of her thong was soaked and her nipples were hard from his touch. “I want you so bad.”

Terry positioned her on the couch the way he wanted her to get a view of her plump ass plugged up. Ryan rested her head on the back of the sofa as she arched her back. Terry pulled the g-string from between her cheeks to reveal her arousal.

“Look at you creamin’ already. All this for me?” Terry smirked as he spread her cheeks for a better look.. 

“Uh huh.” Ryan’s senses were all over the place. 

Terry lined his dick up with her slit, rubbing the tip against her clit. “Ooooh give it to me please baby.” Terry hissed as he sunk into her tight warmth and she started to bounce.

“Look at me while you throw that ass back. Pretty ass…” Ryan looked over her shoulder at Terry while her hands were planted in front of her. Loose strands from her silk press fell in her face, sticking to her glossy lips as she moaned. Her butt plug began to slip out from her arousal before Terry pushed it back in with his thumb as he delivered steady strokes.

“You nice and full, huh?” Terry teased before smacking each ass cheek. 

Ryan let out a whiny moan in response. “Mmmhmm.. It…feels s-soo g-gooood!” 

Ryan continued to throw her ass back to match Terry’s strokes. She pulled him closer to capture his lips. 

“You’re too far away. I need to feel you.” 

Terry flipped her over, pushing her legs back. He hissed as he slid back in, causing Ryan to cream even more as he hit a new spot. Terry sucked her bottom lip as she squeezed his biceps. Her eyes danced between the small gold chain in her face and his blue-green eyes.

As he leaned closer to her face to kiss her lips, she arched her back at the feeling of him going deeper.

“Oooh you’re s-s-soooo deep!” 

He pressed his hand against her belly as he stroked that spot over and over again. 

Terry took turns toying with each  nipple while rubbing her clit as he sped up his stroke.

Ryan moaned his name as her legs began to shake. “Oh my God, TeeJayyyy!” 

Terry nipped her bottom lip as he pressed into her sweet spot over and over again. “You gone cum for me? Hmm?”

Ryan's skin was warm to the touch, nipples erect, and belly tight. “Oh my God, I’m about to —” Ryan began squirting and creaming before she could finish her sentence. Her pussy clenched around nothing as she panted. Terry rubbed his dick between her pussy lips and against her clit, causing another waterfall.

“Oh FUCKKKKK!” She whined as she tried to control her trembling thighs. 

“Hm, look at that.” Terry looked down in amazement at the mess.

“P-put it b-back in…” Ryan panted as she stared at Terry with pleading eyes. 

Terry obliged as he slid back into her slowly at a steady pace. “Look at you gripping me like that…” 

Ryan clenched around him, causing his hips to falter.

“FUCK, Ryan!” 

She patted her pussy as he came inside. 

Terry leaned in to kiss her lips and all over her face before pulling out to watch their cum slide out of her.  

After their late afternoon session, they showered and fell asleep as their Christmas movie played in the background.

✨ Christmas Day ✨

Terry crunched on a candy cane as Ryan sat the cookies on the coffee table.. 

“Where you get these candy canes?” 

Ryan giggled at his excessive crunching. “You like ‘em?” 

Terry nodded as he took another bite off. “They kinda taste like Cream Savers.” 

 “I swear you’re 65 in a 32-year-old body.” 

“Nah, taste it.” Ryan leaned forward to taste the candy cane. 

“It does taste like a Cream Saver but with peppermint. I need to get these again next year.”

 “You ready for your gifts?”

 “Of course!” 

Terry and Ryan were adamant about capturing memories outside of their iPhones. Ryan took the liberty of starting scrapbooks and photo albums when they became exclusive. Road trips, vacations, random picnics at the park, all of it was captured. 

Terry had gotten more into photography recently so she gifted him a camera with all the equipment along with a sports watch he had been wanting. It had a ton of features with interchangeable bands. And it had to have military time settings, of course. Once a Marine, always a Marine. 

Terry unwrapped a handmade scrapbook that included pictures of him and his cousin Mike. They were 12 years apart, but Terry spent most of his childhood as Mike’s shadow. A small smile formed on his lips as memories came flooding back at the flip of each page. Pictures of them at the park with their other cousins, Terry’s little league games, Mike’s high school graduation, and the last family reunion before he went to jail. At the very back was Mike’s hospital bracelet along with his obituary and a few more recent pictures of the two of them. Mike was more than his cousin. He was his big brother. Terry’s eyes welled up with tears when he spotted the first letter Mike had sent him while he was in boot camp. 

“This is —” Terry paused to gather himself. “I don’t even know what else to say…” He pulled Ryan into his lap, holding on to her tightly.

She kissed his face and rubbed his back as he cried . “I know it’s been hard and I wanted you to have something that would help you remember all the happy times. ” 

Terry sniffled into her chest. “Damn, I didn’t expect it to hit me like that. I appreciate this babe.” Ryan wiped Terry’s tears before pressing her lips against his. “Anything for you, my love.” 

Terry collected himself enough to pass Ryan two slender boxes. She tore into the pretty gift wrap and opened the box to a dainty diamond tennis bracelet with her birthstone to add to her bracelet stack. 

“Babe, this is so pretty!” 

Terry smiled at her reaction. “You gotta open the other one too.”

Ryan unwrapped the small square box to reveal a 14K gold bangle engraved on the inside.

For my favorite girl in the whole wide world. Love, TJ

Ryan paused to blink back her tears. The message was so simple, but it came from her loverboy so it was uber special. She couldn’t wait to see it every day while she was getting dressed.  

“I love them both so much, baby! This is the perfect start to my bracelet stack. Thank you, Snookums!”

 Terry snickered at the nickname and kissed her forehead as she sniffled and wiped away tears. 

For the first time ever, Ryan felt completely safe. As the weeks and months went by, the guard she tried so hard to keep up eventually fell down. She allowed herself to be cared for, to have feelings, and be vulnerable. 

“Oh my God, we’ve turned each other into big saps. What the hell is this? Is this what real feelings are?”

“Shit is wild, ain’t it?” Terry chuckled as he shook his head.

 “Very. But I really love it here and I really love you.” 

“I love you too.”

Tags: @megamindsecretlair @westside-rot

I didn't have an official tag list for Terry, but let me know if you want to be added. 💕

[earthchica]

the sweetest taboo

cowboy! terry richmond x black, fem! reader

summary: you and Terry don't get along, but you have to run a whole farm together. Terry is tired of your behavior and shows you who's boss.

warnings: explicit smut (18+), slight brat, teasing banter, arguing, foul language, choking, size kink, daddy kink, rough spanking, hair pulling, unprotected rough sex, squirting, creampie, aftercare, nicknames (baby, baby girl, lil mama, sweetheart) words (5k)

note: this has been in drafts for a while, and I decided to post it, I hope you enjoyed it. let me know what you think?

-

For five months, you have been managing the 9 acres of farmland in Louisiana that your nana left you. Your dedication to preserving the family business meant collaborating with the Richmond family, who share ownership of half the land.

Troy and Yvette Richmond were close friends of your nana and had worked alongside her for ten years. You had no issues with Mr. and Mrs. Richmond; they were kind and welcoming people. However, their son, Terry Richmond, was another story.

Terry had a skill for getting under your skin and was quite infuriating. You settled down on the weathered porch, the sun starting to dip low in the Louisiana sky, casting a warm glow over everything.

A gentle breeze stirred the grass, and the homemade lemonade's sweet, tangy taste was an incredible relief after a long day of working the land.

You leaned back in your chair, stealing a moment of quiet with your friend, Jenna, who was sipping her own glass and watching the fields.

“Jen, I swear, I just can’t stand Terry,” you started, rolling your eyes as you took a long sip of lemonade. “It’s like he thinks he runs the whole damn farm.”

Jenna chuckled, leaning in with a teasing grin. “You mean you don’t like how he makes you feel? ‘Cause let’s be real, he’s fine as hell.”

“Fine?” You scoffed, waving your hand dismissively, though you couldn’t ignore the slight flutter in your stomach. “That man might be easy on the eyes, but that doesn't mean I gotta put up with his nonsense.”

“Uh-huh, sure,” Jenna smirked, taking another sip. “We both know you kinda like it when he gets under that skin of yours. Just admit it, you like him!”

Before you could respond, you spotted Terry riding up on his horse, the sun glinting off his cowboy hat. He was wearing a tank top that highlighted his big, muscular arms, wear-out jeans, and boots.

Terry swung off the saddle, hooked his horse, and marched up the stairs with a self-assured grin. “Hey there, you two. Y’all need to get back to work,” he called out.

His tone is too bossy for your liking. “Oh, look who it is,” you muttered, rolling your eyes. Jenna quickly drained her glass and shot you a look as if to say, “Good luck with that.”

“Where you think you goin’, Jenna?” you called out, but she was already making her way inside, leaving you to face Terry alone. You shook your head, standing up to meet his gaze.

“Excuse you, Terry? I don’t need any directions from you.” You said with a slight smile, and Terry crossed his arms, leaning back slightly as if he had found your annoyance amusing.

“Somebody’s gotta keep things in line, and it sure ain’t gonna be you. You think this farm runs itself?.” Terry asked with a chuckle. You stepped closer, refusing to back down.

“You think you cause just own half the land? Can you tell me what to do? Newsflash, Terry, we’re equal partners here. Don’t you forget that?”

He smirked, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “Equal, huh? Are you sure about that? ‘Cause every time I turn around, it seems like you’re floundering—”

“Oh, Terry, don’t you dare! Do you think you’re the only one who knows hard work? I put in just as many hours as you do.” You said, poking his chest as the tension hung heavy between you two,

Neither of you was willing to let it go. Beneath the surface, something else simmered. The way he stood tall and unyielding created a heat that wasn’t just from frustration.

“You right, I'll give you that,” Terry said finally, his voice lowering as he stepped closer, his stomach almost touching your breasts. “But it’d be easier if you learned to be a little nicer.”

“Nicer? What?..to you?” You shot back, barely holding back a chuckle. “Oh, sugar no..” With the sun setting behind him, the glow made him look almost ethereal, but you pushed that thought aside.

A cocky grin spread across his face. “Okay, if you won’t be nicer, I’ll just have to make you.” You stared defiantly up at Terry, feeling the tension thicken between you.

“I’m not scared of you, Terry. You can’t make me do nothin’,” you shot back, your voice steady. Terry chuckled, a low, teasing sound that sent shivers down your spine.

“Do you really think imma about to let you talk to me any kinda way? You got it twisted, girl.” Terry said, and you held your ground, refusing to look away.

“Yeah, well, I’m not letting some handsome cowboy who thinks he knows everything intimidate me.” You said that without thinking and felt embarrassed.

"Oh....you think I'm handsome, huh?" Terry asked, towering over you like a giant, and for a moment, the whole world faded out, leaving just the two of you standing there.

Your heart began to race at the proximity, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he would close that distance in a way you hadn’t expected. Was he gonna kiss you?

You fought the urge to let anticipation twirl around your stomach, but just as quickly as he leaned in, he pulled back with a smirk as a mischievous glint in his eye.

“I guess I'll get back to you on that one!" Terry turned on his heel and walked inside the house, leaving you breathless and baffled on the porch.

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, watching him disappear inside. You needed to distance yourself. “Ugh!” you groaned, shaking your head to clear your mind.

You hopped off the porch and went to the stables to check on the horses. The familiar scent of hay does little to ground you. Once there, you grabbed a brush and approached your horse, Luna.

Luna nickered softly at your arrival. “Hey girl, it’s just us now,” you murmured, burying your frustrations in the rhythm of brushing her sleek black coat.

Each stroke helped to distract you from the memory of Terry’s smirk and those tense moments shared just moments ago. “Can you believe him? So infuriatin’,” you muttered.

Luna nudged you with her nose as if to soothe your frustrations. “Terry thinks he can just walk around here, looking fine as hell, and boss you around. Not gonna happen.”

Your mind wondered why you didn't get along with him. He was hardworking, helpful, sweet, and sexy as hell and his presence, the way he carried himself.

Perhaps it's the constant teasing and making fun of how you run things, but you knew it was never in a mean way, though you always had to take it there.

The soft whinny from your horse snapped you back, and you focused on brushing, willing your heart to stop racing every time you replayed that moment.

After a while, with the last of Luna’s coat shining, you leaned against her, closing your eyes and letting the calm wash over you. “I just need to get my head straight,” you whispered.

-

As the sun dipped low on the horizon, casting long shadows across the farm, you and Terry joined the other workers in wrapping up the day’s chores.

The golden light danced over everything, giving the fields a warm glow as the crickets began their nightly serenade. “Y’all done with them fence posts?” you shouted across the yard, wiping the sweat from your brow.

Terry leaned against a post, arms crossed and that familiar smirk on his face. “Yeah, we finished that up already,” Terry replied, his voice smooth like the whiskey you knew he favored.

After all the hard work, everyone slowly filtered out, heading home as the stars twinkled. You mused on it while cleaning up, the warm evening air settling around you.

That night, you found yourself curled in your cozy bedroom, buried beneath a blanket and lost in the pages of an erotic romance novel, the kind that swept you away from the mundane.

Your heart fluttered as you imagined yourself in the book—passionate, adventurous, and right there alongside a beautiful black man, a cowboy with light, greyish eyes and a hint of green that reminded you far too much of Terry.

“Girl, what is wrong with you?” you muttered, excitement and embarrassment fluttering in your stomach. “Eww.” You slammed the book shut, tossing it aside as if it could distance you from those heated thoughts.

The fantasy of you and Terry—fantastic, intense, yet somehow fitting—felt all too real. Deciding to clear your head, you hopped off the bed and went downstairs.

As you rounded the corner, the comforting sound of music wafted through the air. It drew you closer to the living room, where you found Terry lounging in the dim light, a glass of whiskey in one hand while he tapped his fingers to the beat.

"What are you doin' down here?" you asked, leaning against the doorframe. Your tone was a mix of attitude and curiosity. Terry looked up, his attention shifting to you with a slight smirk.

"Just chillin' and having a drink; wanna join?" He asked, raising the whiskey bottle high, the amber liquid glistening in the dim light. "Nah, I'm good," you said, rolling your eyes.

"Okay, cool! can you leave then? You really mess up the vibe with that bad attitude of yours," Terry said with a sigh, motioning you to leave with his hand, and you gasped, irritated.

“Terry, you need to stop tellin' me what to do. This is my house too, alright? My name on the deed just like yours.” You said firmly while stepping into the living room.

Terry lifted an eyebrow, his expression shifting into something sharper. He stood up, the sound of his boots scraping against the floor and cutting through the air.

“I see how it is. You really tryna push my buttons, huh? I ain't the one to mess with. Do you need me to check that attitude? ‘Cause I could go there if you wanted.”

His words hung between you two, heavy and tense. “You act like you know me so well, Terry. Maybe you need to get checked for thinkin’ you can just walk all over me like I'm some joke.” You said.

“You know I’m just playin’ with you. It’s all in good fun; I ain't tryin' to hurt your feelings. You love the back and forth, though, don’t you? It gets you all riled up. You wanted to see how far you could push me, right?” He said softly, moving closer to you.

Your breath caught, realizing he was onto something. Deep down, you did like it, testing the limits. “Oh please,” you replied, flipping your hair dramatically to the side of your shoulder.

In a swift motion, he closed the distance between you two. A gleam in his eye made the air around you feel electric, and before you could take another breath, he backed you against the wall.

“Are you sure about that?” Terry asked, his voice low, laced with a desire that left your heart racing. You met his stare, trying to retain your bravado.

“I—” you started, but how he looked down at you made your thoughts scatter. Those words hung in the air, your bravado dripping away beneath that smirk.

“You ain’t slick. You know you like me bein’ around, even if you won’t admit it.” That grin of his only made you want to smack him, but deep down, you knew the truth.

Something magnetic drew you to him, the tension crackling like static. You swallowed hard and crossed your arms in a futile attempt to shield yourself from his intensity.

“You all talk, sweetheart, but no action,” Terry said, pressing his body against you and that strong, overwhelming presence invading your space.

You didn’t know whether to scream or giggle; all you could think about was how close he was and how his presence made you feel—like you were on the brink of something wild and unpredictable.

It was thrilling and terrifying all at once. Finally, unable to hold onto your facade any longer, you gave him a playful shove, trying to regain some semblance of control.

“Get outta my face, Terry!” You shot back, and Terry stepped back, chuckling, but you could see that glimmer in his eyes—darkened before you knew it.

Terry yanked you from the wall and moved you over to the couch, bending you over the arm. You turned your head, heart pounding, trying to hide the smirk creeping up your face.

"What ya about to do, tough guy."

“Teach you a lesson,” Terry said, and before you come up with come back, you bit your lip to suppress a moan at the touch of his hands on your body.

Terry pushed your nightgown up and gave you a smack, causing you to cry out in pain and pleasure. You glance back at him; his eyes convey a serious intent, and you receive another sharp smack.

"Not as tough as I thought, huh? You ready to give up?" Terry asked; his voice was deep and sensual, giving another smack.

“Fuck you...no one...no one's giving up!” You cried, digging your nails into the cushion of the couch as you tried to suppress a moan from coming from your mouth.

“Tsk, Tsk, tsk, wrong answer. Okay, you leave me no choice," Terry said, grabbing your hair and pushing your face into the bottom cushion of the couch.

Terry moved your panties to the side and began playing with your pussy lips, running his fingers through the pool of your wetness. “Mmm...look at that pretty pussy! It's all wet for me."

“Terry, please!” You pleaded, gradually surrendering and allowing your body to express what you couldn't say.

"Please, what?" He asked, pulling your head by your hair and looking into your eyes with a mixture of amusement, lust, and pleasure.

“Please, just a little more,” You moaned urgently, desperation creeping into your voice. Terry raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Did you learn your lesson? You gonna stop talking at me like you crazy?” Terry asked, his tone teasing yet profound as if he were putting you on trial.

You hesitated, my pride battling with my desire. The truth was, you craved that tension, that thrill. you swallowed hard, resisting the urge to give in so easily.

But as you looked into his eyes, that smirk igniting a fire within you, you felt your resolve crumbling. “Yes, yes.” The words spilled out before you could hold them back. “Please, Terry.”

His smirk widened, a glimmer of satisfaction flashing across his features. He leaned closer, and you could feel the heat radiating between us.

“You’re really begging now, aren’t you?” he teased, enjoying the power he wielded in this moment.

“Yes, I am; I need it; I need you, please; I'm so sorry for being so mean to you; just please, I need more.” You begged, your voice loud beyond a whisper, laced with defiance and desperation.

Terry lets go of your braids and moves you to be spread wide on the couch before him. “Alright, then,” he said, a sense of authority in his tone. “I’ll give you what you’re asking for."

Terry rubbed his fingers through your soaked panties, making you moan with pleasure. "Please, Terry, stop teasing me." You cried, getting tears of frustration in your eyes.

"It's daddy for now, lil mama! You got that?" Terry ordered, smacking your pussy, and you looked into his eyes; the look was giving you all types of feels.

"Okay, well, daddy! Can you please eat my fucking pussy," You moaned, which made Terry chuckle and rip your panties off with a force like no other.

"I’m going to make you feel so good," Terry growls before plunging his tongue between your wet folds, going slowly and flicking his tongue through your folds.

"How does that feel, baby," Terry asked, and you couldn't believe he was doing wonders on you. "Fuck, Daddy, so good. Your tongue feels amazing"

"That's what I like to hear, And you taste so damn sweet. I could eat you for every meal" Terry said, and you moaned in response, grabbing the back of his head as he sought out your most sensitive spots.

You cried at how incredible his tongue was. Terry's plump lips capture your clit, and he sucks it into his mouth, alternating between flicks with the tip of his tongue and light nibbles with his teeth.

You removed your nightdress and tossed it across the room, began playing with one of your breasts with your right hand while the other was till the back of Terry's head.

"Ahhh, fuck, fuck oh my god," You cried, rolling your head back in pleasure, and Terry muffled in your pussy as he began fingering you and sucking at your folds.

"Fuck, mmmm baby, I love the way your pussy tastes so much," Terry said; your juices were all over his face and his beard. His eyes met yours, and he fingered you like trying to prove a point.

It was working so well on you, surprising because of the way his tongue flicked hungrily over your clit, the way his mouth just worked so hard you knew he was trying to make you squirt.

"Show me how much you love my pussy, daddy! Tell me who owns this fucking pussy" You moaned, challenged in your tone, and Terry smirked, diving his tongue back into your pussy and bringing your legs over his shoulder.

You chuckled before making an O in your mouth, feeling your body trembling slightly, arching your back against the back of the couch. A knot in your stomach began to grow.

"Shit, daddy. Oh my goodness, I see, I get it"

"Nah...I don't think you do."

"Oh, I do, I do, please. I'm shaking already; I can't take it." You cried, and Terry didn't care; he focused all of his attention on licking your swollen, sensitive clit.

You could feel your body tense, clutched onto Terry's head as you felt your orgasm rise. 'Can I cum, Daddy. I'm so close; I'll be a good girl for now, please."

"You promise to be a good girl from now on, not more talk back, and you gonna listen to me, right?" He asked, staring into you like a lion hunting his prey.

"Yes, yes, yes, please," You cried shaking your head with new tears coming from your face. Terry chuckled and began to flickering your clit with his fingers fast and with firm pressure;

Your eyes rolled in the back of your head. 'Cum, cum for me, baby. Let me hear you, let me hear those pretty sounds."

"Oh my gosh, I'm gonna fucking-" You cried, feeling yourself cum hard while a gushing of water came out of your pussy. "Mmm, baby, you look so beautiful when you cum," Terry said with a smirk.

Your chest rose up and down as you calmed down from your trembling while Terry stood up and wiped your juices that were all over his face.

Terry removed his shirt and pushed his shorts and underwear down to his feet with his boots. You gasped at the sight of his dick; it was huge, veiny and lengthy.

"Shit, that's huge. You have the most perfect dick I have ever seen, Terry." You bite your lip and go to stroking it, but Terry manhandles you to get on your knees on the floor and face towards the couch.

Terry grabs your neck and kisses you passionately, leaving you speechless before pulling away. You moaned when he gave your ass smack, and you leaned back, jiggling your ass for him.

"I want your dick so bad, big daddy. Please fuck me," You moaned, and. "How bad you want it?" Terry smirked, giving you another smack on the ass.

"So bad, I’m desperate to feel your dick throbbing inside me," You cried, titled your head to look at him, and Terry grasped your ass and thrust his dick through your wet folds, not daring to enter.

"Don't know, I need a little more, lil mama," Terry said, arching your back slightly and spreading your legs out a little more. "Please fuck me, I've been wanting you to for so long, please"

Terry slowly enters your wet pussy, which makes both of you moan at the same time. He cursed, loving how your walls gripped him like a glove. "Do you like that, baby?"

"Yes, Daddy, ahh, you feel so good inside me. Fuck, I love your dick already; it fits so perfectly," You moaned, looking back at him with desire.

Terry looked so fucking sensual in the light dim on him. "Mmm, baby girl you feel so fucking amazing. I could be so deep inside pussy forever."

You lean back and place your hand on his hip as he thrusts faster than before. "Pound my little pussy with your big dick, daddy," You moaned, looking up at him.

Terry immediately started pounding, moving his hand from your hip to grip your neck. "Fuck, fuck...Oh...I love hearing the sound of our skin slapping against each other."

"Push your ass back towards me, baby. I want to feel all of you," Terry said, smacking your ass, and you bit your lip, placing your hands on the edge of the couch and pushing it back against him.

"Like this, Daddy?" You asked with a moan, trying to match the rhymes of his rough, pounding thrusts. "Yes, baby, just like that, fuck. Take this dick so well," He moaned, His eyebrow furrowed.

Terry gripping the hand full of your ass before giving it a smack. You knew by the end of this that your ass was gonna probably slightly bruised, but you didn't care, so caught up with desire.

"Ahh, yes, don't stop, Daddy, fuck me," You moaned, feeling so much cream coming from your pussy, and Terry pulled you up and wrapped his arms around you.

He kissed you while still pounding into you. "I don't think I can stop until I can cum, Fuck, why is your pussy so perfect, girl," Terry moaned, burying his face in your neck while grabbing your breasts.

"I’ll only cum when you tell me to, Daddy. I wanna feel your cum, I want to be filled with your cum, please; I'm on the pill, so worries," You moaned, reaching between your legs and rubbing your clit.

"Fuck, baby, I want you to cum with me. Can you do that for me? Be a good girl and cum with your daddy," Terry said, grabbing your neck, and in minutes, both of them moaned and climaxed together.

Terry pulled you into a kiss as his hot cum came shooting out inside of you, causing you to moan into the kiss. He pulls out of your pussy, watching his cum drip out with a smirk.

Terry lost his balance and fell onto the soft carpet, trying to catch his breath. You giggled and propped yourself up on the couch. "That was...something!" you said, looking at Terry as his chest rose and fell.

"I can't believe we just did." You said softly, shocked your own damn self. When his eyes met yours, his face brightened with a smile.

"You're welcome, "Terry laughed, and you rolled your eyes, getting up from the couch to leave the living room.

Terry's voice stopped you in your tracks. "Hey, where you think you goin'?" He looked at you with a playful smirk, making your heart race faster.

"I'm just gonna shower, you know, clean up," you replied with a shy smile, trying to play it cool, but something in his gaze made you flutter.

"Okay! Mind if I join, sweetheart," Terry suggested, his tone light but the invitation lingering in the air. You thought for a moment, then nodded with a grin. "Sure, come on!"

"What? Really Damn, I think fucked you too good, got you acting like a whole different person," Terry joked, and you playfully hit him as you both went to the bathroom.

Once in the shower, the warm water cascaded down, and the playful banter began. "You better not hog all the hot water," Terry teased, splashing some soap suds your way.

"Terry, I'm not," you shot back, a playful smile on your lips. The laughter between you two quickly turned into something more intense.

The steam enveloped you as he kissed you, and you found yourselves fucking again, losing track of time. After the shower, you felt a wave of relaxation wash over you.

Terry pulled you close, his hands gentle on your skin as he started the aftercare routine, concern etched on his face. "You good? You feeling okay?" he asked, his voice low and soothing.

“Yeah, I’m cool. Thanks, Terry,” you replied, your heart fluttering at his tenderness. Terry then gestured towards his bedroom, his eyes brightening. “Wanna come cuddle for a bit?”

You paused, your stomach doing flips. "Uh, sure. just give me a minute to get dressed," You said, and he nodded. You made your way to your bedroom to throw on something comfortable.

You felt all kinds of butterflies as you changed. Once dressed, you headed to Terry's bedroom, pushing the door open slowly. He was waiting there, a soft smile lighting up his face at the sight of you.

“Took you long enough,” Terry joked, but his warmth made you feel at home. You climbed onto his bed, his familiar scent surrounding you—cologne mixed with something uniquely Terry.

Nestling into his arms felt like slipping into a soft cloud, safe and secure. "This is nice," you murmured, melting against him. “Yeah...you know,” Terry suddenly started.

“I really, really like you.” His honesty caught you off guard, making your heart race again. “You like me? For real?” you blurted out, surprise shifting into clarity.

It was time to lay it all out there. “I…I like you too Terry. A lot, actually.” A mischievous smile crept onto his face. “I know, baby girl. So, how ‘bout we go out on a date?”

“Yes. I’d love that,” you replied, feeling a wave of exhilaration wash over you. The butterflies in your stomach turned into a full-on fireworks show.

This was it—everything was changing, and all you could think was that you had never felt so alive. With that, you settled into each other’s arms, ready for whatever came next.

-

Over the next few months, you and Terry kept your relationship under wraps, enjoying the sweet thrill of being together without drawing too much attention.

The other folks at the farm could sense a change, though. Your laughter was brighter, your smiles broader, and Terry—oh, he was positively glowing.

The two of you knew how to flirt and play around casually and efficiently despite the deeper feelings simmering beneath the surface.

One sunny afternoon, you decided to escape the hustle of the farm for a picnic. You picked a spot amongst the wildflowers, vibrant and full of life, just like you both felt.

The sun kissed your dark-brown skin as you lay back on the blanket, watching the clouds drift lazily across the sky. Terry, ever the teaser, leaned in closer.

“You know, it's crazy, just not a few months ago. You hated my guts, and now you let me be in your guts,” Terry said, a teasing smirk on his lips.

“I didn't hate you, Terry, and stop playing with me,” you replied, laughing as you playfully swatted his arm. "Just making a jokey, jokey. You know you always look so gorgeous in sunlight," He said, cupping your cheek.

"I do?" You asked, smiling happily at him. “Yeah, you got that glow, like the sun loves to see your shine bright; I can’t get enough of it,” Terry said, leaning closer, his voice dropping softer.

With a spark in his eyes, he leaned in before you even realized what he was about to say. "I love you, baby!" Your eyes lit up, and you said, "I love you too, Terry." He smiled as both of your lips met.

It was a sweet moment that you wanted to freeze in time. As you both pulled away, laughing, you heard the distant sound of hooves approaching.

“Oh shit, we might be busted,” Terry whispered, a hint of panic in his voice, but you felt a rush of thrill at the possibility of being caught. It was Jenna and Mike, riding in casually on their horses.

Their expressions shifted from surprise to playful disbelief when they spotted you two. “Whoa, what’s goin’ on here?” Jenna called, a teasing grin stretching across her face as she and Mike dismounted.

“Looks like y’all been busy!” Mike said, giving his cousin, Terry, a look. “Uh… we can explain?” Terry stammered, hoping to smooth things over before it got out of hand.

Mike laughed, crossing his arms. “Explain what, cuz? This ain’t exactly rocket science. Look at you two; it’s obvious!” You exchanged a glance with Terry, suppressing a laugh.

“Okay, fine! We’re together,” you finally admitted, trying to sound nonchalant. “The best news I’ve heard all week!” Jenna chimed in, her excitement bubbling over.

“Hate to interrupt the lovey-dovey moment, but we need some help back at the farm,” Mike said, shifting gears as he glanced at the scattered picnic items.

“Things are a bit chaotic, and we could use an extra set of hands. You two can sit here and kiss some other time.” Jenna added with a chuckle.

“Yeah, we’ll help! Just give us a second to pack up,” you said, rolling up the picnic blanket, and Terry helped you pack up before throwing his arm around your shoulders.

He pulled you close as you walked back toward the horses. “Guess we can save this date for later then,” Terry said softly, fighting back a grin.

“Yeah, duty calls," You started. "But don’t worry big daddy; there’ll be plenty of time for us to make it up if you know what I mean," you whispered, nudging him as his eyes slightly darkened.

As you reached the horses, with smiles on your faces, the four of you rode back to the farm, the air buzzing with determination. You were in love, and nothing felt better like this.

[mauvecherie-writes]

FREAKTOBER 07 | terry richmond.

RATING: 18+ NSFW mature.

🎀 FREAKTOBER MASTERLIST 🎀

If there was one word that he would use to describe you, it would be perfection.

Skin as dark as the richest cocoa beans, lips plump and inviting with the softest, natural pout that he wanted to taste, beautiful eyes – always wide with curiosity and wonder and teeth naturally icy white and momentarily distracting from your lips. You belonged on the billboards of Times Square and the covers of magazines.

That’s how perfect you were – as if perfection had never existed before you.

Every word that left your lips, Terry listened with intent. He captured every single word with his ears and eyes. That was how captivated he was by you. His infatuation with you was almost like a possession of his body.

“Fuucckk.” Terry hissed to himself as he grabbed his growing hard-on. So lost in his thoughts of you, he had forgotten that he was in the shower. The beads of water rolled down his muscular back as he looked down at his dick that was swelling in his palm. Battling with his conscious, Terry tried to overcome the impulsiveness to close his palm into a fist and tug, but images of your body flashed throughout his mind. There you were, rolling and thrashing beneath him as he rolled his hips into you.

He closed his eyes as he succumbed to his urges. His fist closed around his dick, he gripped his length and pulled forward.

Oh shit.

Then he tugged backward.

Fuuuck.

He wanted to stop. He knew that he should stop. However, the intensity of his attraction and the frustration mounting did not allow him to stop as his last memory of you was framed in his mind. You had asked him to take a look at your clogged bathtub and like a menace, you had opened the door in nothing but a towel. The entire time, you hovered around him with the towel as your only cover up. And he had almost survived the visit until you moved to hug him, and the fabric fell in between you. Your perfectly round mounds perked up at him as your freshly, trimmed pussy sat in the valley of your thighs.

Terry remembered that in that moment, all he wanted to do was eat you until you were nothing but a ball of gibberish. The last of his restraint is what pulled him out of your apartment, across the hallway and into his own unit. In his own personal space to unleash his hunger.

Here he was, under his showerhead – his mind playing the vision of you as he desperately worked to reach relief … relief from his thoughts, relief from you.

Forward and back.

Over and over.

Twist and pull.

The steam that was rising around Terry intensified the moment, which made it harder for him to breathe but he did not care, he was too focused on his racing thoughts, chasing his high.

His muscles interlocked, stiffening as he rocked his hips into his fist. His groan rang out as his toes lifted from the bottom of the shower.

Forward and back.

Over and over.

Twist and pull.

His peak was near. He could feel it from the tingling at the base of his spine, the twitching of his hips and the rolling of his eyes. Terry’s hand was beginning to ache but still …

Forward and back.

Over and over.

Twist and pull.

Your beauty did not leave his mind, staying in the underside of his eyelids – afraid that you would disappear along with his climax. His vivid imagination conjuring the image of you on your knees, your wide eyes looking up at him, waiting to receive.

Forward and back.

Over and over.

And the moment of unnerving came for Terry. Right there, beneath the head of the shower as the water cascaded down his rigged back, his molten grey eyes opened in time to see the fruition of his labour, the cumulation of his desire for you seep from his tip and onto the tiled floor.

“Arrhh!” An animalistic growl left him as his orgasm rocked his body. His hands were on the wall, supporting his frame as his peak had left him disarmed with his strength diminished. He stood there, waiting out his climatic coma then he began to consider what he had done. After several months of composure and discipline, he gave into his desire, relieving the sexual tension that he had been supressing.

All gone within minutes.

Finding his strength, Terry tossed a towel around his waist and left the bathroom. As he prepared for a quiet night in, the crooning of Janet Jackson in the background – he tried to let go of his thoughts of his shower escapade. He had only been sated … for now.

The coldness of the kitchen floor shook him awake as he walked towards his fridge. He grabbed a bottle of water and chugged the contents of the bottle until only half was left.

Just as Terry was about to reach for a lunchbox of his prepped dinner, three small knocks came to his door. A chill travelled down the length of his spine – a sense of knowing settling within him of who it could be.

Knock.

Knock.

Knock.

Not bothering to cover his bare torse, more eager to confirm his suspicions, Terry crossed the floor to the front door. The soft knocking had stopped but the steady beating of his heart against his chest had not.

He unlocked the door and widened it to see who it was. And there you were.

His perfection.

Your eyes widened at the sight of his naked chest greeting you. Terry smirked at the comical reaction that you had given him. You were holding onto a white plastic bag in your hands in front of you and only then did he register the smell of food.

The intense hold of his stare was making you squirm. Your usual gravity-defying curls were wrapped and secured in a scarf, exposing your delicate neck. He unconsciously licked his lips. You were dressed in a low-cut tank top and pyjama bottoms. The single straps on each shoulder could only mean one thing. The evidence was clear on your chest.

His assessment caused you to be bashful.

“What can I do for you Miss YN?” Terry asked as he let go of the door but held onto the frame. His towering figure forced you to brace your neck upward to meet his alluring eyes.

“I-uh.” You stuttered, letting go of the bag of food with one hand to lift your manicured nail to scratch your skull. “I just wanted to thank you fixing my tub earlier. I ordered a lot more Chinese takeaway than I can handle, I figured we could share.”

“Is the food a thank you gift or did you want to share it with me?” His eyebrow quirked up as he crossed his arms over broad chest. The bulging of his muscles made you momentarily lose your focus. Your lips softly parted as you exhaled.

You were here in front of him, looking as delectable as ever. To him, you were here unknowingly serving yourself on a platter. Or maybe you did know and that was why you were here.

“I’d say a bit of both.” You admitted, finally drawing your eyes away from his chest and back to meet his eyes.

“Alright then, Miss YN. Come in.” Terry smiled as he licked his lips. Before he took the food out of your hands, he moved out of the way to let you into his home. Terry closed the door and secured the locks. You were staying and by the end of the night, you were going to wish that you had just left the food at his door with a note.

Because he was hungry.

And not for this food in his hand.

reading list: @hopefulromantic1 @melodichaeuxx-lacritquexx @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @cocobutterqwueen @uzumaki-rebellion @blowmymbackout @mochachocolatteyaya @greedyjudge2 @miyuhpapayuh @melaninpov @pickingupmymercedes @lewisroscoelove @kindan3rdy951 @elyseesarchive @sl33p-deprived-princess @soiguessimtheshit @acidlv @kriegertops @ermlolol @theogbadbitch @trinitoldyouso @ethereal555 @astrorainbow @jazziejax @laylaynaynay130 @khalaaylah @plan666 @crissrou @cookiecutterzers56 @cameroncrazie13 @shescatrinaxo @wvvkndvibez @st4rgirliesstuff @gwenda-fav @fineanddandy @planetblaque @deja-r @kiraonthegooo @apimp-named-slickback @playgurlxoxo @gojosbabyma @heytaewrites @leilaxaliel @dyttomori @tasteofmyrainboe @livvy-lovess @violetmuses @jeanellepatrice @kaisage45 @planetnique

[theereina]

If you're looking for Terry Richmond x Aaron Pierre fanfics/writers, look no further:

@avoidthings @megamindsecretlair @brattyfics @miyuhpapayuh @earthchica @keyaho @henneseyhoe @theereina @planetblaque @notapradagurl7 @kumkaniudaku @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @nayaxwrites @theblacklewinsky @starcrossedxwriter @sweettea-and-honeybutter @mymindisneverhere @soft-persephone @sageispunk @slutsareteacherstoo @violetmuses @haechvn @4pfsukuna @urfavblackbimbo @uzumaki-rebellion @zillasvilla @fictioninmyblood @simplyzeeka @dxddykenn @urgirlygoddess @hotgrlcece @jimmybutlrr @babybratzmaraj @kimuzostar @writingsbytee @venusincleo @thoseprettywords @grlsbstshot

*I'll update this list when and if I can.😉

[brattyfics]

Sins of The Flesh II

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC [Riley]

Wordcount: 3,000+

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, Alternate Universe (Mike Is Alive), P in V, Spanking Aftermath, Mentions of Heaven/Hell, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Absolute Filth, Breeding Kink, Oral (Female Receiving)

A/N: Part One should be read first. Divider by fireflygraphics. I'm kind of embarrassed, but not really because y'all are nasty too.

“I want grits with a salmon croquette and chicken sausage. Can you get me a strawberry lemonade too? Their lemonade is amazing.”

Riley lay on her stomach in bed, facing Terry, who was propped up against the headboard, cell phone in hand. He rubbed between her shoulder blades, his touch gentle and soothing as he dialed up the brunch restaurant. Freshly bathed and wrapped up in one of his Marines T-shirts, she felt almost like she was floating. Having Terry there, being so attentive and caring, was exactly what she needed after their time apart.

“You want a side of bacon, too?” he asked, eyeing her with a raised brow. He knew her too well—she always said no, but then asked for some of his when the food arrived. “No, I don't need that much. Just a little bit.” She pinched her fingers together, mimicking a tiny portion.

“I’ll just have some of yours. You’ll share, right, baby?” She reached over lazily to rub his forearm, her fingers caressing the scar above his wrist. His expression softened as he gazed into her sweet brown eyes. She was so mesmerizing without even trying.

“Of course. Whatever you want,” he said, placing the order without the bacon but adding on an order of beignets. They were her guilty pleasure and he enjoyed tasting the powdered sugar that lingered on her lips afterward.

He tossed his phone aside after learning the total. “It’ll be here in an hour.”

“An hour?” she sighed deeply, “I’m going to starve by then.” After church hunger hit differently, and his spanking had drained her energy even more. She needed a nap and a big hearty meal to recover.

“You’ll be a’ight,” he grinned, shaking his head slightly as he laughed. "As soon as you take that first bite, you'll be saying it was worth the wait." Riley erupted into laughter, surprised at how predictable she really was. “Quit acting like you got me all figured out,” she giggled, tracing the lines of his palms with her fingers. “Today could be different, you never know.”

“You say that every week, babe.”

“I could change my mind,” she insisted, coming up with all kinds of scenarios—like missing chicken sausage or a plain lemonade that would throw her whole day off. The beignets could arrive soggy or without enough powdered sugar.

"You just talkin' to be talkin', huh?" He cut her off, tickling her sides until she was shrieking and wiggling away from him. She swatted at his hands, enjoying the lightness of the moment and teasing him back, “You know you love when I run my mouth.”

“You got a gift for keeping things interesting, that’s for sure.” He admitted, gaze drawn to her backside as her legs kicked up playfully behind her. The moments when it felt like it was just the two of them in the entire world with nothing else to worry about were her favorite.

“See? I knew you liked all this mouth.”

“Yeah, but that mouth is what keeps getting you into trouble, too.” He reminded her with a gentle kiss, his hands sliding down to her waist. Riley smiled up at him, bright and beautiful, and he knew he couldn’t deny her anything. Her parents had spoiled their only child, and Terry nurtured that spirit, indulging her in every way. She’d run all over him if he let her, which is why their little “checks and balances” system was necessary.

"Let me see what we’re working with," He tugged her closer by her arms, brushing off her protests as he lifted the oversized T-shirt to her waist, eager to examine his handiwork. She’d soaked in an oatmeal bath for half an hour, but her butt was still welted, bearing the marks of his handprints.

"Damn, baby, I really did a number on you."

Riley propped herself up on her elbows. "I'm fine," she assured him softly. "I needed it." The release had allowed her to shed the tension that had built up over the past week, though her body was still aching.

“Let me go ahead and put some cream on that for you,” he insisted.

Earlier, she'd brushed off his offer, insisting it hurt too much and that waiting until after her bath would be best. She groaned, realizing she couldn’t avoid it any longer. Terry was all about that aftercare—always checking to make sure she was genuinely okay. He reached into the bedside drawer, pulled out the tube of homemade cream—a mix of shea butter and aloe vera gel—and then settled in behind her.

He knelt on his haunches, positioned between her legs while she buried her face in the sheets. She heard the cap pop open, followed by the sound of his hands rubbing together to warm the cream.

She hissed as he began to work magic, his touch gentle but precise.

Her eyes were tightly shut, but she could easily picture his arms flexing as he kneaded her skin. He was as skilled as any professional massage therapist. She never questioned where he’d learned that skill or how he’d perfected it. She preferred to remain ignorant. The thought of him using those hands on other women, touching them the same way, drove her up the wall.

That primal instinct constantly gnawed at her, igniting an ugly possessiveness she couldn’t rein in.

The last time they went on a dinner date, she was convinced the older woman at the table next to them was intentionally dropping her napkin just to get Terry to keep picking it up. That lady took every opportunity to touch his hands, leaning in way too close for comfort. It didn’t take all that just to say 'thank you'.

Afterward, she told him she never wanted to go back, pretending it was because the tables were too close together. The truth was, she felt too embarrassed to admit she was jealous of someone old enough to be her grandma for no good reason.

Then there were the young women who couldn’t resist trying their luck. The same girls she grew up with at church would ask, “Terry, can you bring my donations in for me? They’re so heavy. Terry, can you carry these cakes in? Terry, will you come out to the car and grab these cans of soda?”

They knew damn well they were dragging their own donations in before he started showing up. So she made it a point to lag behind on Sunday mornings. They wouldn’t be late, but they also wouldn’t arrive early enough for anyone to take advantage.

And don’t get her started on the women at the grocery store; they were the absolute worst!

They’d whisper and watch Terry as he walked through the aisles. He’d bend down and reach for everything Riley pointed out, completely oblivious to their lingering. They clustered around when he loaded up the cart with water. It drove her so crazy that she eventually started ordering her groceries for pickup, insisting he unload them at home.

All that fine was for her eyes only.

Gradually, the burning sting began to subside. What had felt like a raging fire now simmered down to a dull, tender ache. “Feel better?” he asked, kissing the back of her neck. “Mhm,” she hummed lazily, on the verge of falling asleep.

“Yes. Thank you.”

He bent down and placed a soft kiss on her cheek. “I'm supposed to look after you. You don’t need to thank me for that.” She had a way of bringing out his softer side, making him feel more tender than he ever planned to be. “You had it coming, but that doesn’t mean I don’t feel bad about it.”

“I told you I’m fine, baby.”

"Doesn't mean I can't kiss it better."

She bit her lip, wishing he would finally grant her the one request she’d been making all day. The waiting felt like a tightrope walk—teetering on the edge of cruel and unusual punishment.

“But I gotta make sure I’ve got all my bases covered first," he said as he helped her onto her hands and knees, applying gentle pressure to her back until she arched.

Slivers of light filtered through the closed blinds, bouncing off her moisturized, glossy skin. He watched, enthralled, as her hips swayed back and forth, fueled by all that pent-up energy. He couldn’t look away from the swollen, soft pink. 

"Yeah, I’mma make it all better with a kiss." He pledged, carefully using both of his hands to part her open before pressing a gentle kiss against her slit. She panted, heart racing as he kissed her pussy the same way he kissed her lips—slow and sensual, taking his sweet time before sliding his tongue in.

He teased her with his words in between.

"You always taste so good."

"I missed this pussy while I was away."

"It's all I could think about."

"Such a sweet girl, baby."

Riley jolted forward, squealing in surprise when the tip of his tongue brushed her sensitive clit. “Don’t move,” He instructed sternly, grabbing hold of the back of her thighs. His tongue lavished her wet pussy as she squirmed; warm, wet, methodical, and engineered to drive her wild. Terry was such a fucking menace.

"Wait a second, baby," She tried to gather herself, groaning and shifting her hips, as if another moment would make his teasing any easier to endure. She bit her lip to stifle her sounds, but he wasn't having that. Terry wrapped his arms under her legs until he had her firmly secured.

"What did I say?" She struggled against his grip but found it was iron-tight. "Don't run from me," He warned like he didn't already have her pinned down and at his mercy.

He took full advantage of her vulnerable position, zeroing in on her puffy clit, sucking, licking, and devouring her like a starved man. She clawed at his hands, but it was useless.

“Oh God!" She gasped, convinced he was one of the devil’s soldiers, sent to torment and steal her soul. Nothing else made sense. She’d never met a man so skilled and deliberate in driving her insane. 

“You good, baby?” She heard the smirk in his voice, certain that this was some new form of torture. The only time she caught a break was when he took a second to breathe, and even then, he was right back at it, pushing her limits all over again. His mouth was even more skilled than his hands, working her over soft and deliberate until she was trembling.

Terry was indeed a fucking menace, but she was his willing prey, moaning that it was too much while pushing her hips back for more. Her essence dripped onto his tongue and down his chin, sweet and sticky like ripe mango.

"I'm gonna come!" She wailed, grinding against his face.

Terry pawed at her butt, a surge of aggression washing over him. It took everything not to spank her ass some more. He stuffed his face where she wanted it, letting her ride his tongue until she creamed all over it.

“Shit!” she screamed, collapsing forward as her hips jerked uncontrollably. 

The sound of his shorts falling to the floor faded into the background as blood rushed to her ears, drowning out everything else. Before she realized it, he flipped her onto her back, placing one pillow under her head and another beneath her back to ease the pressure on her bottom. He lifted her hips, positioning himself to slide between her legs.

The tip of his dick leaked as he stroked it, grunting softly as he tried to mentally prepare for the tight fit. Her pussy was still clenching down on nothing, hungry for something more.

“Come ‘ere,” Riley urged, pulling him down to her lips for a deep kiss and moaning wantonly as she tasted herself. She wrapped her arms and legs tight around Terry’s large frame, grinding down against his hard dick. Her chest felt tight with emotions that were too intense.

I love you to death. You mean everything to me. I need you.

Terry could ask her to do just anything in that moment, and she’d say yes without a second thought. She’d agree to have ten children if that's what he wanted. She wanted a permanent connection, something to bind them together forever—a family of their own.

"You ready for more, pretty girl?"

"I'll take whatever you give me," She promised softly, laser-focused on his big dick as he teased at her entrance. She was fatigued, but finally getting what she had been fantasizing about all week. Deep brown skin, mesmerizing hazel eyes, and a strong, muscular build that could surround her completely.

Her face contorted, brows furrowed and mouth agape as he pushed in. Terry pressed his face into her neck, letting out a soft groan as she ran her fingers soothingly along his back. "I love you," she confessed, unable to contain the emotion any longer as he began to move his hips.

Terry could barely think straight with her squeezing him so tightly, but he managed to work up to a steady rhythm, gently pushing and pulling until he was fully sheathed inside her. Riley gripped his arms for dear life as he occupied every inch of her.

“Can’t believe you thought I was giving this to somebody else,” He let out a loud grunt, thrusting deep. "I already got my hands full with you, baby."

Riley was his own little slice of heaven, perfectly crafted just for him. He never imagined he could love someone so deeply that being apart from her felt like he was missing a limb. As he slipped into her, he remembered how she had accused him of cheating when she was the only thing on his mind. Her sweet magnolia scent and those beautiful brown eyes—she was his master, and she didn’t even realize it.

"Fuck me," She ordered with the urgency of a drill sergeant, grabbing his ass and pushing him deeper. She wanted him buried inside of her. “That feels so good.” She growled out.

“Keep fucking me, just like that.”

"Fuck this tight pussy, Daddy.”

“I missed this dick so fucking much.”

“I’ve been thinking about it everyday.”

She didn’t usually speak that way, but something was taking over her, making the vulgar words spill from her lips effortlessly.

It had taken all his restraint not to give in to her earlier, but it was worth it for this moment. The way her heat molded around him, fitting him perfectly as she clung to him, desperate and wanton.

“You’re being so rough with me, baby!” she exclaimed, though there was no hint of complaint. Terry was manhandling her like a ragdoll, and she loved every second of it. Watching such a disciplined man lose control over her was exhilarating.

Terry tried to restrain his darker urges around her, but she was so beautiful when she cried. It only fueled his hunger, driving him to be even more aggressive. She clawed at his back, yelling out when his balls smacked her tender ass.

“I wanna have your baby, Daddy.” Riley confessed with tears in her eyes. She knew she had to be losing her mind, but she meant every word.

Terry’s hips faltered. “What did you just say?”

“I want to give you a baby. I want us to have a baby together. Can we, please?”

Every conversation they’d had about having children had ultimately come down to the understanding that they needed to be married first before starting a family. The pullout method, however dangerous, had worked for them thus far. He couldn’t believe the words coming out of her mouth, but she knew exactly what to say to get what she wanted out of him. "I want to be the one to give you a baby, Daddy. The only one.”

Terry cursed, struggling to keep his composure. His own mind was foggy with love and lust. Her parents would be furious if he got her pregnant before marriage, but he couldn't find it in himself to care. They could go ring shopping tomorrow and then apply for the marriage license right after. It was just paperwork—he already knew how he felt.

“You for real?” He imagined her big and round, pregnant and filled with his child. Relying on him to help her tie her shoes or assemble a crib for their child.

"Yes!" she replied eagerly, her eyes shining with desire.

“You want me to make you a mommy?”

“Yes, I’m ready to have all your babies, Daddy.” Babies? She always had to take it a step further. The bare minimum was never enough for her. She was utterly spoiled, and their children would undoubtedly be the same.

“How am I supposed to turn you down when you ask so sweet?” Terry leaned in closer, his breath warm against her neck as he let out a low growl. “If you want my baby, you’re gonna have to be a really good girl and keep that pussy open for me.”

“If you keep giving it to me good, I’ll give you what you want.”

“I’ll cum deep in that creamy pussy and give you a baby.”

She was so wet that everything felt slick, her brown eyes glazed over with desire. He knew he should try to be the responsible one, but all he could think about was filling her womb and giving her the beautiful baby she was begging him for. “Tell me you’re mine,” he says, gripping her neck firmly, leaving her breathless.

“I-," The doorbell rings, and it takes her a few moments to process the sound. Terry doesn’t stop, sweat dripping down his face and onto her skin, mixing with hers. It’s as if he’s in a trance, unable to concentrate on anything but his mission.

“Oh my God,” she cries, pushing at his firm stomach for when he strikes a particularly sensitive spot inside of her. Terry forced her up the bed with each powerful motion of his hips, fucking her harder and deeper than he ever had before.

“Relax. It's probably the food," He crooned, brushing her hands aside. "I’ll get it, but I need to give you my baby first.”

“Oh my God,” She braced herself as the pressure built in her belly. Terry was driving himself deep and hard in her pussy like he had a point to prove. He really wanted that baby. With her eyes closed shut, Riley surrendered, pinching and pulling on her nipples until she was soaking Terry and the sheets beneath them. He held her down, ensuring she couldn’t escape as he flooded her with cum.

“Oh my god,” she repeated incessantly, like a broken record. All of his weight settled on top of her, their foreheads touching. She gazed into his eyes, the realization of what they had just done beginning to sink in. She didn’t have any regrets; she was eager to claim him as hers forever. Excited to nurture a child who represented the best of each of them.

Terry leaned in, capturing her lips in a passionate kiss that lingered as if he were trying to memorize the taste of her. When he finally pulled away, it was with reluctance, his gaze locked on hers. He couldn’t find any hint of regret in her eyes, and he certainly didn’t have any himself.

"Thank you, Daddy." She cooed, reaching down to stroke her clit. He watched, entranced as their slick oozed out of her. It felt like he was hardwired for it, instinctively wanting to fill her up again and push in deep. “Whatever happens next, I’m gonna take care of you.” He vowed, his warm hand pressing gently on her belly. He silently prayed for a favorable outcome, hoping it would lead to a little baby in the next ten months.

She brushed the sweat from his forehead with the back of her hand. “I know. I love you and trust you completely. I really want us to be a family.”

“We will be,” he said with a conviction that tugged at her heartstrings.

The doorbell rang again.

“The food,” she reminded him, gently pushing him back before they got too caught up in the moment. She needed a moment to catch her breath anyway. The tension between them was smoldering.

He cursed under his breath as he reluctantly pulled away, picking up his shorts from the floor and then his wallet from the dresser. She heard the faint sound of the door alarm as the front door opened, followed by quiet voices conversing while she stared up at the ceiling.

Her heavy eyelids fluttered shut. There was no way she'd be able to go to work in the morning.

Terry eventually shuffled back into the room, holding the tied bag in his large hands like a prized catch. “Come on. Let’s put something else in your belly before you knock out on me.”

Thoughts? Lol 😂

Tagging the people who asked for a second installment:

@sageispunk @avoidthings @megamindsecretlair @planetblaque

[urfavblackbimbo]

Dutty-Wine and Games

(This the reader’s facecard but just imagined her being thicker ☺️ and this is what Terry’s wearing for tonight.)

Summary: It’s date night for you and your man Terry and he wanted to surprise you by taking you to the Caribbean Festival that  you were talking about to him couple months ago and Terry getting you a souvenir that tested his man-strength also not knowing that tonight you would get your man high for the first time.

Warnings: Est. relationship, black fem. reader, n-word usage, D/s dynamic, smoking weed (a joint), kissing, oral(fem. rec x2), cursing, spitting, choking, hair pulling, dirty talk, praise kink, ass-spanking, squirting, unprotected p-in-v, doggy-style, the reader’s legs are on his shoulder(idk the position.)

Word-count: 3.5 k 18+ (this is the song that use dutty-wine scene if y’all wanna listen you can🙂‍↕️)

You’ve been dating Terry for the past eight of months and it has been amazing with him since he moved here to Atlanta after winning his case against Shelby Springs Pd and getting a large sum of money for himself and paying back Mr.Liu in ten folds and to have the restaurant to be open for decades. You met Terry on a dating website for other black people to meet, once you saw his profile and them beautiful hazel eyes he had with his bulging arms and large print you knew you had to have him. And today is another date night with him even though you don't know where you’re going.

“So I have a surprise for you, it’s something that we’ve seen a couple of months ago and it’s finally here this weekend.” Terry pulls into an empty lot to find parking for his truck to back in, turning off the ignition and coming around to open the door for you and only grabbing your phone and your lipgloss since you won’t need your purse.

“Good baby you are so fine right now, you lucky there’s going to be people there cause if not-” You put a hand on his gold chain he had laying on his chest to pull him down to kiss you, his soft lips overpowering you, slowly being push up against his truck, putting your hands up against his hips to push away “Okayyy daddy, you are done you still have to tell me what my surprise is?” looking into his eyes and shifting to his lips and back to his eyes “Well for what I’m wearing that should give you a hint?” smiling back at you and stepping back for you while holding your chocolate hand.

Your eyes shift down to his shirt to see he is wearing his curacao shirt that was makin’ look like a full course meal, his shirt fitted around his arms so deliciously with his big ass guns he had on him with his khakis pants that filled his legs out sooo good and his white forces and then you realized and smelling many flavors of jerk chicken, plantains being cooked, and a light smell of weed; your eyes widened “The Carribean Festival, awhh Terry I thought you forgot that I  told you that I always wanted to go.” you poke out your bottom lip in happiness showing a down towards smile to him  “Awhh babygirl don’t cry, you’re gonna mess up your pretty makeup.” He swipes his thumb in the corner of your eye to catch your tear and wipes it on his shirt “All-right I’m starvin’, let’s go inside before I eat something else mhm.” Terry smacks right on your ass making your Jamaican colored dress giggle.

You both made inside with him paying for the both of you, this festival was fucking huge with rollercoasters, kiddy rides, carnival games and tents full of vendors selling their amazing food, Terry let you choose for what you both wanted for dinner, you ended up getting a plate of jerk chicken and rice and a side of fried plantains and Terry got a bowl of beef stew with rice, carrots and potatoes with two drinks, as he paid for the both of you again, both of you sit a table.

“So do you want to ride any of the rollercoasters while we're here babygirl?” Terry holds out both of his hands in front of you, nodding your head at him and resting your hands on top of his large palms “Yeah daddy you know I’m not  a scaredy cat. I’m a big girl.” sticking out your tongue at him, he licks his lips  and smirks “Oh so you a big girl now huh, so you don’t need daddy no more huh?” as he told you that you were zoned out on his veins and hands, lightly scratching your smaller hands ontop of his and looking up at him and looking into his eyes shaking your head no repeatedly “Noooo daddy.” almost coming out as a whine from you, he gives you a chuckle “You know I’m just playin’ with babygirl I know you in love with daddy’s dick.”  he leans over to give you a wet kiss on your lips.

“Order for Terry, Order for Terry.”

He comes back with the food and lays it in front of you, you were in foodie heaven and you were starvin’ like marvin too and both of you dig in eating your delicious food, you look at his bowl and somehow he already knew what you were thinking, he places a couple of pieces of meat and carrots with sauce on your plate you smiled at him and thanked him “Did you want some of my mine too?” he nods his head with still found in his mouth, you grab your fork to pick off the chicken and rice for him and had in the air for him and opens his mouth to you and gracefully took the food, you look at him as he eats the food, you were in a traced that someone could look so sexy while there eating once he swallows it and it goes down you couldn’t help but to look at his thick neck a sheen of sweat that made you wanted to climb over the table and tackle him.

Both of you walked around the festival once you guys were done eating holding each other hands and looking at people, rides, and hearing laughter coming from all around you see a dance floor in the middle of the festival with some dutty-whine music playing throughout the place you lead him to dance floor, slowly moving your hips to the beat of the song Terry comes up behind you to stop where you were at and put his hands on your hips and starts to dutty-wine with you, your hands were on your knees moving your hips in a eight figure then throwing it in a circle and Terry was right there to catch all the wines, you slowly bend over hips while still moving in a circular motion he grabs one your arm to hold your balance while you grind on him, you look over long black french curls braids to see him biting his bottom lip and gripping on your hips, raising back against his chest while twerking on him, he turns you around to face him.

“Fuck babygirl you got me so fuckin hard right now, grinding that ass on me I feel like I was about to nut if you didn’t stop.” you put arms around his neck and peck his lips also to block anyone that would see your daddy’s hard-on “We can stay like until your soft daddy.” he raises his head to look at you and gives you a sloppy wet kiss. A few minutes later Terry was feeling better and both kept walking through the festival in-hand and you stopped in your tracks to walk up to the booth and asked the worker at the tall sledgehammer machine.

 “Excuse me, how many games do I need to win that teddy bear up there?” the buck-tooth boy turns “Four ma’am.”

You turned around to look for Terry and seeing him already behind you not leaving you any room, his gorgeous eyes going straight to your heart and pussy “You want that big ass teddy bear babygirl?” you plead with your eyes and put on your best pouty face and wrap your arms around his neck and gettin’ all close to his face “Please please daddy- pretty please?” giving him a kiss on the lips he wraps his arms around your waist he takes a deep breath “One more-mhm one more- one more babygirl.” you giggle in his arms “All right babygirl here take my phone, I’m gonna get you that teddy bear.” and gives you a small love tap on your ass and pays the worker then grabs the large sledgehammer.

The first bell he got was effortlessly, the second bell as well, by the third bell he had a crowd around him and you were cheering him on, and by the fourth bell he used all of his might and went it ringed you screamed and ran to him then jumped on him wrapping your arms and legs around him, giving him kisses “Thank you - thank you - thank you so much daddy.” and you still kept kissing on his face, he snorts out a giggle out as he put you down on your feet and rest his hand on your hips “Your very welcome babygirl.” “Ma’am here’s your bear.” 

You got tired of carrying the bear and had Terry carry it for you as you both were walking back to the truck, he opens the passenger side first for you to get in then he stuffs the teddy bear in the back seat and gets in on his side and turns on the ignition “Back to your place baby?” you looked at him “Yeah daddy let’s go.” you take your phone to be dj for the both of you and listen to Paramore and some RnB songs on the drive home.

You opened the front door of your apartment to let Terry in so he can put the teddy bear on the couch and his night bag on the carpet you turned on some lights so you can see Terry  and closed the door “You know being at that we were just at the festival today and eating some good food  and dancing I have the perfect way to close out having this full caribbean experience, be right back.” You walked to your room to get your goodie bag and bring it out to the family room to show him. 

“I’ve never smoked weed before, I wasn’t allowed to do it when I was in the marines.”

You slowly put back your joints that you had in your bag “But....If I wanted someone to be my first for this I would want it to be with you.” he turns to look at you “Thank you for trusting me daddy and I’m gonna get you so fuckin’ high you have no fucking idea.” you give him a kiss on the lips and one more for good measure and grab your goodie bag to sit out on your patio and smoke Terry out for the first time. 

You spark the first joint in your mouth inhaling the smoke and exhaling it out, Terry was watching you  the whole time seeing how your body language became relax under his touch and you holding it out in front of him to take a hit   “You just want to do a little hit first, there you daddy.” He coughed abruptly out the smoke, you set down the joint to grab some water for him and came back with a glass of water for him and your pink Stanley for yourself, he took a couple of more hits before letting you hit it again “How are you feeling daddy?”  he takes an even deeper breath and rubs your chocolate thigh “I feel really good babygirl. Thank you for this.” you handed it back to Terry “You’re welcome daddy, hey have you ever done a shotgun before?” Seeing him inhaling the joint and blowing it out his mouth, you couldn’t believe that this nigga has never smoked weed before and with him under the warm sunset making him looking like he was a fucking emperor with him smoking this joint, shakes his no at you “What’s that?” you slowly pull your lips in a smile.

You fill your lungs with smoke as you ashed the joint in your bowl, then grab his face to come closer to your lips and push out the smoke into his mouth, lips lightly touching each other then he moves his head up to blow out the smoke. Your mouth was slightly parted as you stared at your daddy’s adam- apple move up and down and the veins that pop out the side of his neck out, he pushed out the last bit of smoke and looked down at you and smirked  “What?” still looking at him “You so handsome daddy mhm, with yo’ fine ass.” Terry grabs your hand and brings it up to his lips “Let’s go inside babygirl, I don’t want none of these little niggas know what I got, come on.” and opens the sliding glass door for you to go inside.

As you walked in, Terry closes the door and locks it and walks over to the front door and locks that one too then walks over to you to pull you into your bedroom, almost feeling like your were flying Terry turns on the bedroom light and walks over to you to pull you in for a kiss “Mhmm daddy I need you.” he gives you another kiss “What do you need baby, use your words.” he leans down to kiss your neck you moved your head the other side of give him room and moaned, moving your hands up his back to grab on the back of head his soft lips and tongue kissing all your spots making you want to his full lips somewhere else “Oh shit daddy I need to you to eat my pussy please ughh pleaseee.” 

“You want me to eat your pussy babygirl huh? this pretty pussy, you need daddy’s lips on you.” 

Terry took of your dress and threw it across the room and lifted you up to throw you on the bed, taking off your bra and throwing it in the corner of your room he climbs ontop of you he rests his crotch on your clothed pussy slightly moving his hips against you, he takes his hand to hold your cheek and give you a wet sloppy kiss in his mouth. You moaned in his mouth and Terry kissed down your neck to your chest then sucking on each of your breast and kissing your tummy, he sits up to take off his shirt ‘fuckkkkk meeee this nigga has to be the worldest finest man to walk on this earth’ you thought to yourself.

Terry kisses down your chocolate thighs and spreads your legs apart “Lift that ass up babygirl.” Terry takes off your panties and throws it behind him he grabs your thighs closer to his face and kissed both of your inner thighs then the bottom of your cheeks giving you little bites of pleasure “Ah- Ahh! Daddy stop teasin’ meee?” kisses your bottom one more time and hold on to your legs and dive right into your pussy, his tongue swirling all around you and bring it up to your clit slowly sucking on it, you put your hand on his head Terry moves his lips to eat you all the way up and flattens his tongue against you, moving his head against you then he lifts his head to spit at your pussy and growled against you.

“Fuck babygirl god I love this fuckin’ pussy soo much, do you wanna nut babygirl?” “Yess daddyyy.”

Terry kept eating you out with his tongue is flicking over your clit, your thighs were shaking and fighting against Terry’s hold, but it was no use then you grind out your climax on his face he gave you little kisses around your pussy and comes back up for air to face you, his goatee was dripping of you then leans down to kiss and tasting yourself on his lips the sweet and tangy flavor of it. You grab his belt to unbuckle it for him and he stopped you to pull down his khaki pants and took off his forces then got back on the bed, he grab your hips to him and got ontop of you with his fist next to your face “You ready for daddy’s big dick babygirl?” Biting your bottom lip  and nodding your head.

“Yeesss dadddyyyy I want your dick- I need it - I need it so bad daddy please - give me your big daddy dick.” you gave him kisses on his full pink lips.

Terry sat up and grabbed your legs to put them on his shoulders and slowly enters your pussy, moving to a pace to slowly open you up “Fuck your pussy is so fuckin’ tight babygirl, here baby relax your legs for me ughh fuckk mee ohh yeahh that’s it babygirl.” Your legs were spread wide to your chest under the firm hold of daddy’s fingers “Ohh shitt daddy you’re fucking. Mee. Soo. Good ohh ughh fuckkk.” Terry picks up his pace to fucking you deep in your guts, he leans over to give you a wet nasty kiss he slipped his tongue in your mouth and you suck on it then biting his lip “Babygirl I can feel your pussy grippin’ me, fuckk baby are you gonna nut on my dick? You can do it babygirl, nut on daddy’s dick.” Terry hips were fucking you dizzly and your legs started to squirm again “ugh - ugghhh - uggghhh ohh fucckkk” releasing your wet essence on his dick. 

“Turn the fuck around.” 

He grabs your hips to flip you over on your hands and knees then pulls your hips back to face him “Goddam babygirl look at this wet pussy, this is all for daddy huh?” you lay your head on the pillows and relax your back by pushing your hips out. You moaned his name “Yes yes daddy it’s all for you, please eat my pussy daddy.” Terry smacks both of your cheeks, you gasped feeling the lightning strike you moan that turned into a whine “Daadddyyy.” Terry grabs both of your arms to hold them behind your back and he gave you a long wet lick from your clit to ass and back down to your clit then kissing down your pussy his tongue swirling in your pussy  “Fuckkk daddyy ughh ohh fuckkk.” Terry used his hand held onto your hip to hold you in place so you take whatever he gives you. Feeling the heat rise again in your lower tummy, you try to scoot away but Terry leaned forward to give his tongue lashing and slurping your clit as well. 

“Oh my fuckin’ god daddy ughh oh shit, you’re eatin’ my pussy soo good oohh fucckk dadddyyyy I-I’m gonnna cumm.”

Terry just kept eating you up as you wetted his face, he growled into your pussy then gave you a few pecks down your ass and released your arms and made you be on your hands and knees and you groaned out “Daddyyy.” He pulled back your hips to him “Can you give me one more babygirl? Come on you can do it baby, you’re doing soo good for daddy, don’t you wanna make daddy nut?” he leaned over your body then grab your chin to look at him with his lips just barely touching you and push your lips to him and slides in your pussy once more, Terry stretching you out and grabbing a handful of your braids to sit you up as he drilled into you, he wrap his hand around your throat and slightly closing your airways under his grip. 

“Who’s pussy is this? Is this daddy’s pussy babygirl?”

“It-t’s  yourss daddy fuckkk it’s all your pussy ooh fuckk.”

“Open your mouth for daddy.” 

You sticked out your tongue and looked into his eyes Terry lets go some spit on your tongue and swallowing it down, he gives you sloppy kiss as he fucks the shit out you “Ughh daddy I don’t think I can cum ughh ughhhh.” Then feeling three wet fingers rubbing your clit, you horsley moaned loudly out and having your heat rise up in you for the last time “It’s okay babygirl if you wanna nut? I know you do. I can feel you mamas go ahead daddy’s gotchu.” You felt like you were exploding, shaking and shivering on Terry’s dick, him still fucking you through your climax and lets go of your neck so you fall on your pillow. He gives you a few more strokes before he cums deep inside of you.

You rest your head on his chest, listening to his speed-up heart “Thank you for this night daddy I had so much fun tonight I love you sososo much daddy.” he grabs your chin to have you look up at him “ I love you too babygirl. Daddy loves you very much and I'm glad that we went to that festival together babygirl.” Terry pulled the covers up from under the sheets and to see one large wet spot on the bed, you both looked at eachother with wide eyes and with you feeling embarrassed and covered your face then he slowly uncovers your face to hold your face in his hands.

“Heyy there’s no need to be embarrassed about this babygirl, I’m happy and proud that I was able to get to that point okay babygirl.” and gives you light pecks around your face “I’m gonna grab a towel and get a new comforter for us okay.” Once you both got situated in the bed and he had his arm wrapped around you pulling you close to him and relaxed behind you then you as well drifted off to sleep.

Holy fucking shit I can’t belive I just wrote all that 😳but I’m soooo happy that I did, I couldn’t help myself anymore thinking about this black king 🥵💕 and y’all this nigga got me like I want this nigga’s baby frfr 🤰🏿but if you had enjoy this thank you so much and I know in my heart that this nigga know how to dance I just feel it in my spirit, that nigga can and I wanted to talk about his heritage for the plot of the story. Andd High!Terry Bitchhh there was something in that weed that made him bionic cause nigga was hard for 4 rounds straight (like if he was the terminator) and Dom!Terry is always gonna do it for me especially if the nigga’s nasty, but thank you to everyone who read this it means really alot to me.

Love, Nazzy 💕

[haechvn]

So That's It Then, Huh?

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!Reader

Warning: Angst. Yearning!Terry. Just sad really.

Summary: He’s been fighting for your love and you have trying your hardest to break his heart. Your plan is working.

Word Count: 2.0k+

Author’s Note: Got inspiration from this post. Ugh i just love angst so much. Y'all better hate y/n by the time you done reading this. Lowkey features Erik and Fontaine. IFYKYK.

Taglist: @planetblaque @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @prettyinpikk @theinsidefeelingofateen

‘Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.’ This was the self-taught mantra he began to loop in his mind.

Wrinkles danced between his eyebrows in anguish as his wide-set nose flared furiously. It was almost as if he was vibrating, shaking at such an alarming speed with his anger radiating off of him like a soft tidal wave. Agitation ripped through his body, his innately rancorous emotions thrashed around inside him yet there was still a chilling calmness to his rage. Your alluring voice no longer sweetened his spirit but simply urged him to pull his heart from his body. That's what your words were already doing to him anyways so what would be the problem if he actually tried?

He hasn’t been able to take his eyes off of you. His irises are a darker, moodier shade of grey as opposed to the usual vibrant green. His chest is tight and hot as he begins to wonder if something outside of him is slowly gnawing away at his life source — feeling less and less in control of his breathing as his mind swirls in confusion. He’s so overwhelmed with emotions he doesn’t even notice the tears that cascade down his cheeks, eyes piercing yours, searching for any semblance of solace only to be met with venom. Eyes that captivated him upon first glance. Eyes that once brought him peace. Eyes that once threw themselves out into the rapid waters of life and anchored him back to shore. Eyes that belong to the soul he loved with all his heart and knew as his. Eyes he loved with his entire being.

How can you stand there and say these things to him? It’s hard to tell what has gotten into you but you have never made him feel so insignificant and small. He spends every waking moment of his life trying to express his gratitude for your existence and yet you can’t even begin to process the amount of pain he is in. As if you even care. You want to leave him? After pouring every fiber of himself into this relationship you two share? No. Hell no. Fuck n— 

“But how can you say that though? You talkin’ like I don’t take care of you or dedicate myself to you or like I haven’t given you my all… Man what the fuck?” Terry is at a loss for words. His heart can’t handle the insane statements you are making. He is seconds away from passing out.

“I feel like you are being so dramatic right now Terry,” you say, backing up away from him in attempt to create more space between the two of you. Is it your fault that you weren’t feeling the relationship anymore? In your eyes, you and Terry want two different things at this point in time; one person wants a long-term committed partnership and the other wants to continue seeing different people. As if y'all haven't been together for a while now. You didn’t anticipate meeting another man that would give you the same type of butterflies you got when you first met your soon-to-be-ex Terry. If anything, you have been looking for a reason to leave him for a long time. Things just didn’t feel as organic as they used too. His kisses don’t feel the same. Your heart doesn’t skip a beat when he looks at you anymore. There’s a part of you that feels out of touch with him no matter how hard you try to convince yourself that he’s it for you. You have found yourself falling out of love for him and leaning in closer to other men. The late night texts and calls with other lovers wouldn’t technically be considered cheating right? What he doesn’t know can’t hurt him as far as you’re concerned.

The atmosphere in Terry’s home was unsettling. Honestly you are a bit taken aback by his reaction to your words but nonetheless, you aimed to achieve your goal and that was to rid yourself of this "man" standing before you. It’s not like he did anything to you directly but sometimes if you wear the same pair of shoes everyday, you might eventually get bored and wanna throw them away. It’s not the best feeling in the world to see his face stained with sadness and disbelief but somehow a wave of peace washes over your body, the soothing reality that you won’t have to deal with him much longer cemented itself in your shared space.

“I’ve been meaning to bring this up to you for a while Ter,” you continue, causing him to slightly wince as you use a pet name of his as if you aren’t currently trying to break him down to his core. “I can’t say this has been the most fulfilling relationship for me and—,”

“Bullshit! What are you even talking about right now princess? I love you. I know you love me. Why are we even doing this? Where is this all coming from? We was just good yesterday and now you on some other shi—“

“Terry stop fighting me on this! You know you have felt a shift too. It’s not the same anymore. You don’t feel familiar to me,” you say, twisting your diamond bracelet that Erik— or was it Fontaine— gave you a few days prior. Talk about applying pressure. Those men really know how to make a lady feel special and it just made Terry look so different in your eyes. Sure the two of you made lot of memories, special moments together and lots of “love” but okay? You wanted something different. Why are you all of a sudden the bad guy? Even if the two of you have been together for about a year, that doesn’t warrant Terry's overemotional reaction does it? How in love can one person be after a year? That’s like saying you’re deeply in love with someone after two months. Be so for real. Terry is a grown man and he can get over this. Heck, you already are. Wait. Didn’t Erik plan a dinner date for the two of you tonight? Oh shit! You should probably hurry up because you know he doesn’t like waiting and oh how could you forget! He sent the most beautiful dress over to your condo with priceless jewels and these absolutely gorgeous shoes that have these—

“Yo. Are you even listening to me?” Terry’s tear-stained face lowers to meet your gaze, his body closing in on you in a way to make his presence known but not scare you away. This is not how he had planned on his day going. You are what makes it easier for him to wake up every day and push forward no matter what lies ahead yet you don't even seem the slightest bit moved by his outward display of emotions. He can’t decipher whether he is simply dreaming or if his worst nightmare is truly taking form in front of him. He reaches out to you, placing a soft touch under your chin forcing you to look up at him as he towers over you. His thumb rubs against your skin, wishing it were his lips there instead. He so desperately wants to just kiss you with all of his might and throw you over his shoulder but no matter how upset he is, he knows hearing you out is more effective than seducing and pulling you back into him with his actions.

“I’m not letting you go. That is not up for discussion. Whatever it is you need me to do just tell me and you know I gotchu,” he whispers lowly, tucking a braid behind your ear. Though his touch is gentle and warm, that doesn’t negate the fact that you no longer want to be in a relationship with him. You checked out months ago. Somehow, seeing him vulnerable like this actually made your heart thump a lil bit. Crazy right? He was definitely a good man when it came to loving you and treating a woman the way she deserves but that doesn’t mean you have to stay with him because of it. You take a few steps backwards, moving your face away from his grasp, the tension in his living room thickening as you internally plan your exit strategy. Terry is absolutely wrecked and two seconds away from truly experiencing his breaking point. What the hell is going on?

“There’s nothing you can do Terry and that’s the problem. It’s actually not me. It’s you,” you huff tugging at the rose gold ring that rested on your right hand. How can you still be wearing this piece of crap he gave you? He probably lied about the price to be honest. No way he actually paid ninety thousand and you still don’t think it’s that cute. Maybe for someone who doesn’t have any taste. Terry’s eyes remain focused on your face so he doesn’t see you toss the piece of jewelry he had custom-made for you onto his couch, slightly blending in with the beige material.

“We are done and that’s it. I don’t want to talk about this anymore because we don’t have anything else to discuss. Goodbye Terrence. Don't fucking contact me.” With that, you spin on your heels that Fontaine personally delivered to you with a side of dick last night and skipped your way out of his life. You have places to be and people to see and somehow this man thinks he’s more important than that? Yea fucking right. He’s actually lucky you didn’t even tell him about the other men because that would have just sent him into cardiac arrest.

Terrence. Terrence? In all the time that you two spent together, you never once called him by his government. You spat it out as if if was poison or a disease you wanted to rid yourself of.

The door slam was the final nail in the coffin for him. What the actual fuck just happened and why were you so happy — overjoyed even — to leave him? What did he do? What didn’t he do? Too many questions and yet no answers could sooth the aching pain he experienced within his entire body. Harsh sobs escaped from his lips as his knees grew weak as he dropped to the floor. He buried his face in his right hand in attempt to quiet himself but of course that just made him want to cry out more. His broad shoulders shook as his breathing pattern became unsteady and short. It had been a while since Terry experienced a panic attack or maybe he was just so overwhelmed that his body and emotions couldn't continue to sustain itself. He can’t even make himself angry or upset. All he wants is you. For you to be by his side for the rest of his life, grow and share a beautiful family. That’s what the two of you agreed on when you joined this union. Terry tried to wipe the tears from his eyes but they multiplied by the millisecond.

No. No. No. Not today. Why today of all days? That didn't just happen. You two had such a beautiful lunch earlier in the day and he had brought you back to his in hopes of you sharing the same sentiment in spending the rest of your lives together. He planned on proposing. The ring sat tucked in his left pocket. So close to being yours but not so much anymore. The most expensive diamond ring he could find with your shared initials incrusted on the side. Upon remembering this, his heart was beating rapidly as his mind began badger and belittle him. He had just lost Mike and now you? He doesn’t believe that he will be able to recover from this type of heartbreak. Is he supposed to just get over you and find someone else? You are the only one in the world who knows him like the back of your hand, aiding in him becoming the man he is today. Now you have unknowingly created a monster out of the ashes of a man who would once obey your every command.

[starcrossedxwriter]

I’m obsessed with this story 😭🥹 literal perfection!!

She needs to fire Jake asap!! Even if he isn’t the stalker, he is a grade a dick and she needs an agent that actually cares about her.

I felt so bad when she woke up and no one was there. Poor girl is so alone with no one but terry to protect her. And honestly, I can tell it’s gonna take a minute for her to trust him again after he left her like that. And he was trying to help her and do his job but given her history, of course that feels like abandonment. And I thin

This stalker is INSANE. With some specialized skill perhaps or police/army/whatever training I think?? They are too smart to just be a crazy fan. I feel like it is someone she knows?? But maybe they are paying someone to do the actual stalking/attacking.

We need Olivia benson on the case chile cause this is tewwwww much!

Sweet Escape, Part 3

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

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. Cursing, trying out some angst, teasing, mentions of loneliness, mental health, power imbalance. Mentions of violence, all consensual. Sorry if I missed some.

Summary: You are on top of the world as one of the world’s most popular R&B singers. But behind the glitz and glam, you were unmoored, lonely, and aching for something you couldn’t put a name to. Finally landing in LA, your boots hit the ground and you’re off in a whirlwind of getting prepared. During rehearsal, your agent shows up causing a ruckus. After you take a break, you wake up to the sound of desperate pounding on your door.

Word Count: 6,676k

AO3 Link | Part 1 | Part 2

A/N: WHEW. Sorry for my absence yall. My brain got hands. And I didn't mean to scare folks away! You can absolutely ask about my fics! Asking for an update just doesn't help. But sharing your love for it motivates me a lot faster! And you can thank @onherereading for gently bullying me to post sumn! LOL, love you. Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment, gif, or unhinged ask.

Male dancers lifted you into the air and you continued singing the hook to your most popular song, “Eat It”. It stayed on the charts, week after week, remaining strong and steady. And it was the song that most got you in trouble for the explicit lyrics. 

You sang, testing the sound as well as the choreography on stage. Coming to LA had been a non-stop shit show of rehearsals and talk shows and radio interviews. God, you were tired. And you wanted to lay down and pig out in front of the TV. But nooooo.

Plus…well….you weren’t feeling particularly sexy at the moment. Terry rejecting you the other night shook you up more than you cared to admit. Why would he reject you? You were beautiful, smart, and funny on a great day. And yet, nothing.

There were just lingering glances and moments where it looked like he wanted to say something but never did. You didn’t like the cold front you suddenly found yourself in so you kept yourself busy, distracted, and left no room for you to be left alone with him for longer than a minute or two. 

But the hit to your confidence bruised. You didn’t feel normal. Like none of this was real. It was a cruel illusion that could be snatched away from one viral tweet, one public meltdown, or one scandal to torpedo your career. The stalker ate away at your life until you couldn’t even get a guy to fuck you stupid. 

It was embarrassing. It was stupid. He was stupid. 

“Stop! Stop! What the fuck is that?” A booming, obnoxious voice echoed in the empty stadium. 

“Down boys,” you said. The male dancers moved safely, bringing you back down to stand on your own two feet. One of their hands lingered a fraction too long, but you didn’t know if you were being paranoid or not. 

Jake, your stupid agent, came huffing down the front area aisle, a skinny tie swinging behind him. “What the fuck is that? What are you doing?” Jake demanded. He stomped onto the stage and approached you.

“Lower your fucking tone, I’m not a child,” you said. You sneered at him and then crossed the stage, taking the three steps down to the backstage area. You refused to be chewed out in front of your team.

Jake stomped angrily behind you. Terry leaned against the wall near the exit but when he saw you approach, he straightened up. You looked away from him quickly, not wanting him to see what must be written all over your face whenever you looked at him. 

“Who do you think you are?” You asked, pulling on that bitchy persona. 

“The man making sure that fat ass stays rolling in money. You are selling a fantasy up there. Every guy needs to feel like he’s fucking you and every woman needs to feel like they want to be you,” he said.

“Really, tell me more about the job I’ve been doing for years,” you said.

“Thanks to me, sweetheart. Don’t you fucking forget that,” Jake spat, pointing his finger in your face. Ugh. You smacked his finger away and crossed your arms. Jake was back on that shit. His neck and face was flushed cherry red, his eyes were glossy, and he sniffed every two seconds like he smelled something bad. 

“You can’t stay sober for two fucking seconds, Jake. Is that what happened at the club?” That would explain the bullshit he pulled.

“Hey. You’re fucking welcome. That free publicity gained you a million more followers and featured on Spotify. Who takes care of you?” Jake asked, spreading his arms wide. 

You were so disgusted, you didn’t know what to do with him. Ugh. You breathed through your nostrils, centering yourself on the feeling of it rather than wanting to wring Jake’s neck. 

You leveled him with a glare and leaned in. “I take care of you, you piece of shit. And if you pull something like that again, I’ll fire you. Stay off the drugs, Jake,” you said. The last thing you needed was to end up on TMZ, because your agent was out on another embarrassing bender. 

Jake pressed his lips together and threw up his hands. “Alright, alright. Look at me. I ain’t on no shit, okay. I heard you the last time. Clean my act up and I can stay, right? I got a suit on and everything,” he said. He spread his arms out and smiled but you weren’t in a smiling mood.

Jake pouted and wrapped his hands around your waist. A waft of cigarette smoke burned your nose and made your eyes tear up. Terry pushed away from the wall but you held up a hand to him. “Remove your hands before I break your fingers,” you said, as calmly as you could muster. 

You didn’t have time for this fucking clown. And where the fuck was Joya or Mirage? They knew better than to let Jake near you while you were in work mode. 

Jake squeezed your hips once before he removed his hands and held them up like he was so innocent. He grinned and looked down his hooked nose at you. “Just remember what’s standing between you and popping your pussy for any producer that wants to sniff after you. Clean this shit up, we have money to make,” he said lowly for your benefit. 

You didn’t know how much Terry could hear but it stung either way. Jake loved throwing that shit in your face. Loved making you think that you were some gutter rat that no one wanted. Grammy Bean wanted you. You were somebody. And no agent was going to make you feel less than. 

“Make them think they’re fucking you while you’re up there. Jesus Christ,” Jake said, needing to have the final word. He took off, disappeared to go yell at somebody about something. 

You rubbed your head, fighting back tears. Got dammit. Once you let the dam fall, the whole thing came crashing down. You didn’t have time to cry right now. Now when everyone was expecting you to lead them. 

“You okay?” Terry asked. 

You tilted your head back and swiped at your eyelids, catching the tears before they had a chance to fall. The one blessing about rehearsals was that there was no make up or restrictive clothing. You sniffled once and then straightened your shoulders, rolling your neck to get the kinks out. 

“I’m fine, Mr. Terry, thank you,” you said.

“So we’re back to Mr. Terry?” He asked softly. 

You risked a glance at him. He squinted at you, his face tilted down. You held each other’s gazes for a second longer than what was polite. You went to open your mouth when Mirage tumbled down the stairs and stopped short of where you were standing.

“Jake’s ready to see it again,” she said quietly. 

You turned away from Terry’s intense eyes, and nodded. “Let’s give him a show then,” you said.

You went back on stage and talked to your dancers, letting them know that you were going full out. You signed to the sound engineer to start from the top. 

The choreography began with the dancers standing in front of you. Once the opening lyrics started, you moved around the stage singing and rapping about men catering to women’s needs for once. That if they can’t eat it right then there was no reason to let them hit. 

The male dancers lifted you during the hook, supporting your weight while you sang and rubbed your hand along your body. You were a master at pretending. At working off the energy in the room. 

You fed off of the song and the lyrics. Embodied what you were saying. Pulled on your inner sex goddess to coo to the invisible audience. Even though you wore your favorite blue joggers and a tank top, you felt like you were scantily clad in your performance outfit. You were selling a fantasy. A fantasy that everyone wanted a ride but no one met the height requirements.

The dancers put you down and then held your hand up while you dropped it low on one of them. From this angle, you faced the side of the stage where Terry stared at you. Stared as you rapped and sang about getting ate out and having a super soaker to make him drown.

He may have turned you down the other night, but the heat of his gaze made your belly flip. Made you move harder, rap faster, and sing better like you were a siren luring men to do your bidding. 

Your eyes almost never left his as you pretended to sing to him and make him think about what he turned down. Let him think on it. Because he couldn’t have you now. You were off the menu. 

He was too far away and you were moving too fast to get a good read on his expression. He stood stiffly, feet shoulder width apart, and his hands clasped in front of him. As the song drew to a close, you winked at him before tilting your head back and belting out the final notes.

When the song ended, you tore your eyes away from the intense static of his stormy eyes to the sound of clapping from somewhere.

“Yes! Yes! That’s what they’re coming to see. Do that! Exactly that!” Jake yelled out to you. 

“Take a thirty everyone,” you said, panting from going full out for rehearsal. You stood on stage with your hands behind your head, panting, trying to catch your breath and cool the desire low in your belly.

Fuck. Singing to Terry like that affected you way more than you realized. It maybe wasn’t the smartest move in hindsight. You just needed a good twenty minutes to get yourself off.

Joya climbed onto the stage to hand you a bottle of water and some orange slices. “I put some more fruit in your dressing room in case you wanted it,” she said. 

“I love you, seriously,” you told her with a smile. 

She clutched her calendar to her chest and beamed at you. “I love you too, miss lady. Though you’re probably going to hate me now. They need you back for another fitting. Francois changed his mind,” Joya said.

You emptied the bottle of water she handed you in one fell swoop and wiped your mouth. “This is bullshit. We made a whole schedule to make sure everyone, including me, was happy about this tour,” you said.

You hated to sound like a whiny brat but fuck. It seemed like more and more things were getting added onto your schedule, things you didn’t approve of. You weren’t a machine. Did they expect you to keep working until you collapsed on stage? 

Joya smiled and rubbed your shoulder. “I’m gonna check with Mirage and see what we can do about sneaking you some off time. We have a week before the LA leg starts. Surely we can move something,” she promised.

You sighed. “I don’t want you to do all that extra work. I need to yell at Jake some more. He can’t keep adding in stuff last minute. I’m so fucking tired, bro,” you told her.

“It’s our job to make sure you’re good. Let us,” she said. She took your empty water bottle and scurried off to tend to her duties. 

The dancers were all standing around talking and laughing. Stage hands moved around the stage, talking into their microphones, and moved prop elements as they did so. As much as you wanted to join the dancers or speak to the choreographer, you also wanted two minutes of peace. 

But that meant…stepping past Terry. You rolled your shoulders. You were a big girl. You could handle rejection. It wasn’t the end of the world. 

You turned and headed off stage, taking three steps down to the main floor. There were boxes and studio equipment spread out back here, each tagged with different colored tape. Terry eyed you as you approached.

“I’m just heading to the dressing room for a few,” you told him. 

He nodded and fell in step behind you as you walked through a set of double doors, then into a plain hallway backstage. Stage hands moved around but they all moved with focus and purpose. Your sneakers squeaked on the shiny floor. Terry was so quiet behind you, you were tempted to look back to make sure he was still there. But you also got the funny sense that if you did, he’d disappear.

When you approached your dressing room, you hesitated one step from it. Logically, you knew that there was nothing in there. Terry had his team triple the security around you and you hadn’t heard from your stalker since that incident.

It’d be so much easier if you knew what they were after. Did they want to be with you? An obsessed fan you could deal with. You just ignored those wackadoodles until they made themselves known somehow. 

Did they want to kill you? Clearly he had a way to get in and out unseen. Was he someone on your team? You didn’t want to turn into a paranoid loon, looking at everyone with suspicion and further isolate yourself. But fuck.

“Would you like me to check?” Terry asked.

You stared at your navy blue door and bit your lip. Yes….no….you wanted to be brave. Wanted to handle this yourself. But you didn’t know if there would be some other disgusting rendition of your dead face staring right back at you. 

You took a deep breath and prepared to tell him no. Terry stepped forward. “There’s no reward for being a martyr,” he said.

You deflated with a sigh. “Can you check please?” You asked.

Terry moved around you and then unsheathed his weapon. He held it down and away from him and then opened your door. He went in first, moving around the space, holding the gun up. You stayed outside of the door, watching him flit through the crack of the door jam. 

The air turned colder now that he wasn’t beside you. The hallway seemed to close in on you, getting smaller and smaller. Your breathing turned choppy, looking down one way and then the other. 

When you simply couldn’t take another second, Terry emerged from your dressing room and holstered his gun. “All clear,” he said.

You nodded and refused to look at him. “Thank you. I just need some alone time,” you said.

You shuffled past him and he held onto your wrist to stop you. You didn’t want to turn around. Didn’t want to face him. 

“You don’t have to be formal around me. If I crossed the line the other day, I can transfer…”

“No!” You practically screeched and turned to him finally. You licked your lips and smiled. “I mean, no, no. If anything, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have made it uncomfortable –”

“I wasn’t uncomfortable.”

“I’m the boss, you’re in my employ. Please, don’t think nothing else about it. Okay?” You asked.

Terry’s jaw flexed but he nodded. You snatched your wrist away and entered your dressing room, rubbing the spot where his fingers had been. It was as if he seared you with his light grip and the burn lingered.

You damn near slammed the door in his face, locking it behind you. You just needed a second. A moment to breathe and not have to be “on” for people. 

You crossed the small room to the black leather couch and sat down. The coolness of the leather did precious little to calm you down. You weren’t in danger. You weren’t immediately in danger. 

Terry checked the room, he came highly recommended by the firm, and so far, he had been nothing but the consummate professional, taking your safety seriously. 

As you sat there, however, it just drudged up all the horrible shit from your past. Breaking away from your user family. On your knees begging producers to give you a chance, only for them to use their position and power to solicit sex. One talk with Jake shook you up so bad that it reminded you that every day you breathed was a gift, thanks to what you had to do to survive. 

But it had been a long, long time since you had to be this on edge. This hyper aware of your safety and mortality. Someone out there wanted to cause you harm. They wanted you mentally, emotionally, and physically cowering.

Even as you knew that, even as the logic of it settled in your bones, the only thing you could think was that someone wanted you dead. Someone deemed your life less than theirs. Someone felt angry enough about your existence to make your life a living hell and ultimately, remove you from this plane of existence. 

It chilled you to the bone. To your absolute core. One wrong move and then this would have all been for nothing. All of the struggles, all of the navigating, all of the ways you had to scrimp and scrape to be somebody. 

In the end, you were the same, lonely teenager who didn’t want to be invisible anymore. 

The sweet scent of fruit reminded you of Joya’s thoughtfulness but you were too sick to eat anymore. Maybe you just needed to lay down. You scooted along the couch until you could recline. 

You shoved a throw pillow behind your head and closed your eyes. You just needed to breathe. Just needed to focus on that and nothing else. Nothing else. Just that.

You breathed in through your nose and out through your mouth. You felt your body sink further into the couch and before long, you were out like a light.

Loud banging disturbed you from your sleep. You woke up in a pool of cold sweat running down your neck and into your tank top. You groaned and blinked into the harsh overhead lighting. 

Your eyes cracked open, heavy with sleep and eye crusties, as your eyes swept through the room. There was a director’s chair in front of the vanity, lit up by giant light bulbs all around the mirror. The countertop was littered with makeup, tissues, and hair products. 

Dressing room. “Fuck,” you sighed, rubbing your eyes. 

The banging continued, sounding louder than normal. “I’m up, I’m up, I’m sorry!” You groaned. Fuck, you felt like you had been drugged.

Your rapid heart beats only sped up as you thought about what you had earlier in the day. Had you been drugged? Was it Joya?

The banging increased and the door shook with the force. It disrupted your thoughts enough to know that Joya would never, ever do something like that to you. Besides, she’s had years to take you out. 

You still made a mental note to give her a pay bump. Mirage too. You keep them happy and they’d keep you happy. 

Three succinct booms hit the door and you jumped up. “Okay, I said I was sorry! Damn! It couldn't have been more than…” You stood up and crossed the room, unlocking the door to discover no one on the other side. “Ten minutes.” 

You stepped out of the room and looked both ways down the empty hallway. Terry was nowhere to be found. 

“Terry?” You stepped further into the hallway but it was as quiet as a tomb. The space felt empty and that freaked you out more than anything else. 

How long had you been sleep? Why did no one wake you? Where was everyone? 

A tremor made your hands shake and your fingers turned numb. Did…no one care? If they couldn’t find you, did they all just pack up and leave? 

“This isn’t funny,” you called out but there was no answer. Not even an echo. Your throat turned dry as you made your way back to the stage. Maybe everyone was having a team meeting. Maybe Joya and Mirage found a way to give you some breathing room.

You pushed open the door to the stage and walked up onto it, only to discover no one in sight. The main stage lights were off, leaving the stage bathed in a swirl of blues, purples, and reds. 

You shielded your eyes. “Hello? What the hell!” You yelled. This was beyond fucking uncool. And your phone was either in your room or with Joya, so you had no clue what time it was.

Panic clawed its way from your belly to your chest, scratching your insides with thick, angry nails. Did everyone just…forget about you? 

You brought your hand to your chest as if that would do anything. All it did was call attention to your thumping heart, beating incessantly. Everyone forgot you. No one needed you. 

“Okay, okay, okay, that’s okay,” you murmured to yourself as you paced around the stage. There had to be a reasonable explanation for all of this. 

If everyone left, that was okay. You were paying them to care, but it didn’t mean that their lives ended just to serve your overinflated ego. You would just…go find your purse in your room. You would grab your phone. Order a car to take you home. Easy. Simple. You had this. 

You told yourself that as you left the empty stage, back down the stairs, and away from backstage. You headed down the hallway, rubbing your sweaty hands on your joggers. You were just stressed, that was it.

You approached your dressing room, it had been left open from when you left it. There didn’t seem to be anyone in there. But…still.

You approached cautiously, wondering what the fuck was going on. How did everyone just leave like that? No matter their personal lives, this was unprofessional as fuck. If they called it early, they should have had the decency to let you know. And why would Terry abandon his post? It was quite literally his job to guard your body.

Highly recommended, yeah right. 

You made it to your dressing room and peered inside, stepping inward to check behind the door. Good. No one there. You stepped further into the room before it dawned on you that if no one was there, if no one was around…who the fuck banged on the door? 

You turned slowly just as a bat came swinging towards your head. You leapt out of the way with a scream, throwing yourself against the vanity. 

A figure dressed head to toe in black lifted the baseball bat to his shoulders. The figure was on the small side, but broad. Had to be a man. 

“What do you want from me?” You yelled. You moved the director’s chair in front of you, to deter the figure. He only kept advancing, holding the bat like you were the game winning ball and he needed a home run. 

You lifted the chair and threw it at him, running from the room. Facing three possible directions, you forgot where the exit was. You also forgot how to read, because there were signs but it didn’t make any sense at the moment.

The figure groaned and it spurned you to run, to flee, to find the exit however you were able to. Thundering footsteps boomed behind you as you ran away. Your lungs felt like they were going to go flying out of your mouth. They burned and ached as you ran and ran.

All of the exercise and training you kept up with did fuck all when faced with an actual attacker. Your brain was mush, operating on some basic instinct to survive. You were supposed to be smarter than this, right? 

You risked a glance behind you just in time to see the bat swinging for your head. You fell to the floor to miss it, landing hard on your thigh, and then scrambled across the floor to avoid another swing for your head.

You pulled nearby crates towards you, dollies, and anything else you could pull. One of the crates managed to trip up your attacker. You rushed to your feet, running through the nearest door.

The door banged open against the wall, echoing in the larger chamber. You made it back to the stage and those same lights blinded you as you ran across the stage. Your body felt stiff, achy, as it wanted nothing more than to stop and evaluate.

Stopping meant death. Stopping meant that your attacker had another chance to get you. 

Stopping meant – you were pushed forward and you fell, sliding across the stage. Your chin bounced against the hard floor and you groaned as your teeth clacked painfully. Pain shot through your jaw and you groaned.

A strong hand gripped you by your ponytail and yanked. You screamed as your head was pulled backwards. This couldn’t be it. This couldn’t be what took you out. This couldn’t, this couldn’t–

You kicked and flailed until your shoe connected with something. There was a harsh, low growl as the grip around your hair lessened enough for you to break free. 

You got to your feet, thigh screaming in pain as you limped back to your dressing room. If nothing else, you could lock the door and call for help. It was your final hope. You weren’t going out like this. You didn’t need anyone.

You limped past the door to the hallway, stopping long enough to bar it momentarily with a cart. It wouldn’t hold the attacker for long, but it’d buy you some time. Fuck. Everything fucking hurt. 

Liquid dripped down your chin. You swiped at it and it came away red. You groaned as you stared at your own blood. Literally at your life leaking from your body. 

“Shit, shit, shit,” you huffed as you limped to your dressing room. 

Metal double doors slammed up against the crate you pushed against the door. You looked back to see an arm flailing through trying to push the crate. Fuck, fuck. Your vision turned blurry as you limped.

It seemed like every step you took only made the dressing room seem further and further back. It looked so far away, like you were never going to find salvation. 

“Someone! Please,” you called out.

You tripped over your shoes and went tumbling forward, landing awkwardly on the same thigh that already cried out with pain. You sniffled as tears ran down your face. You didn’t know what to do. You didn’t know what to fucking do.

The crate crashed against the wall as it finally rolled free. “No!” You yelled out, finding enough strength to get back to your feet. So close, so close, so close, so close –

Your name echoed down the hallway as a thunder of boots ran closer to you. You turned around, expecting to see your attacker and that damn bat, but there was no one behind you. Nothing.

You shook violently and swayed to your right, nearly colliding with the wall. You held out your hand to stop your entire body from crashing against it and then used the wall to hold yourself up. 

The storm of boots turned the corner. Terry lead the charge and checked your room first and then swiveled. He called your name. Fuck, you’d never been more happy to see someone. 

“Terry!” You yelled. 

His head snapped in your direction and he crossed the hallway in long, determined strides. You swiped at your tears and leaned on your good leg, trying to make yourself look less pathetic.

Terry slowed as he approached you, holding up his hands. He stopped short when he got a good look at you. 

“Who the fuck did this?” He asked, his chest heaving with harsh breaths. 

“I don’t know, I don’t know,” you said, your voice pitching higher and higher. You began to slide down the wall, all fight leaving you completely. He was here. He was here. He didn’t forget about you.

Terry caught you around your middle, shouldering most of your weight. He reached out and gently cupped your face, moving it from one side to the next. His jaw flexed as his eyes scanned over you, taking in all of your injuries. 

He was joined a second later by members of his team and the studio security. Questions were lobbed at you in rapid succession but your brain had turned cloudy. 

“You’re in shock. She’s in shock, back up!” Terry yelled. The mass of bodies dispersed as Terry half-carried, half-walked with you to your dressing room. 

“I woke up and there was no one–”

“Shh, shh, not yet,” he said. 

Just this once…this one brief moment, you let yourself lean on someone else. Terry handled everyone with all the command of a general, parting the sea of looky-loo’s, likely taking photos of you at your most vulnerable. 

Fuck, this was going to end up on TMZ. You groaned at the thought. Terry helped you into your dressing room and then sat you down on the couch. He produced a jacket from somewhere and draped it across your shoulders.

You shook so badly. You were freezing, sore, and achy. You wanted to crawl up like a little baby and never see the light of day again. 

What was the reason? What was the fucking reason? Who the fuck went through the trouble of all of this? What the living fuck? 

All you ever wanted to do was sing and now…you didn’t even have that. The last thing you wanted to do was quit. The very last thing. Singing was your passion, your very being. It was the reason you woke up day in and day out. Because for three hours or so on stage, for hours in the studio, for every interview and fan interaction, you never felt more alive than when you were singing. 

And someone hated you enough to take it away from you. Your mind spun with crazy scenarios. This had to be a deranged fan. This had to be one of those crazy moms who blamed you for corrupting their youth. This had to be someone.  

Someone tangible. This was the work of one person. A smart, deranged person, but just a person. Someone who bled. Someone you managed to fight off. 

Distantly, Terry’s deep timbre barked orders but you weren’t paying attention. You wanted to sleep. 

“Let them through!” Terry’s voice boomed. You jumped from the sudden explosion, before Mirage and Joya squeezed past Terry.

He stood as a stop gap to the onslaught of activity outside the dressing room. No one was getting through him if he had anything to say about it. But then why did he abandon you earlier? 

Mirage and Joya hugged you gently, careful of your injuries. They treated you with kid gloves and that pissed you off more than anything else. You weren’t a fragile flower. You fucking survived. 

Joya cried, swiping at her tears. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. We were told to leave and then we couldn’t find you and then I remembered that I had your phone and we couldn’t even call you–”

You hummed. Even if you made it to your dressing room, there was no phone in here to help you. If Terry hadn’t come when he did, would you be dead right now? 

You hated that you had to rely on others for your safety. You hated that you were a second away from being permanently removed from this earth and it was only by a stroke of dumb luck that the idiot was scared off. 

Joya and Mirage filled you in on their side of things. They were waiting for you to return when one of the guards told everyone to clear out. There was a bomb threat that had been called in and they needed to sweep the building to get everyone out. 

But why didn’t Terry take you with him? 

Your eyes kept glancing over to him as he coordinated with the police and with his team to secure everything back down. His menacing scowl intimidated those around him as he barked orders and commanded everyone. 

Terry glanced at you from time to time. He would give one nod of his head and you returned it. But his whereabouts were more concerning to you. Over the past year, he had been your constant shadow. Nothing fazed him. Nothing tore him up. So where the fuck did he go? 

Terry re-entered the room and stopped short of you. He dropped down into a squat so that he could look you in the eye. “Feel up to talking?” 

You took a deep breath. “Not really. But I know I need to,” you said. The question you most wanted to ask stuck in your throat. You were to afraid of the answer. 

“You don’t have to. We can tell them to meet you somewhere else,” he said. 

You shook your head. “I’m a big girl. I want to get it over with,” you said.

His chin dipped once as his eyes roamed over you. You must look absolutely horrendous. To his credit, he didn’t say anything as he stood and went to the door. He waved to someone and then two men followed behind Terry into your dressing room.

The room grew stuffier, filled with too many bodies. Crowding your space. You dug your nails into the palms of your hands to ground yourself. You were safe. You survived. 

One of the men introduced himself as Henry Bell, a detective with LAPD who was coordinating with the detective in charge of your stalker case. Because you were hopping through multiple cities, it was hard for any one detective to handle it. 

The other man was Patrick Rollins, head of security for the venue. The men asked you to run through what you remembered and what happened. 

You pulled the coat around your shoulders and Mirage and Joya scooted closer to you but you still felt alone. Abandoned. Cold. Like the heat of their bodies couldn’t penetrate the dense fog around you.

You pushed that from your mind as you told them what happened, starting from when you woke up to when Terry found you. You glanced at him as you spoke, wanting to see his reaction yet still afraid of what his excuse was.

He didn’t owe you a damn thing. But you still needed to know why you weren’t important enough to take with. 

They asked more questions, pushed to see if you recognized anything about your attacker. You kept telling them no, getting more agitated the more they asked. How many other ways could you say that you didn’t recognize the loser? 

“Alright, you should have enough,” Terry said. 

“We still have questions–” Rollins started.

“You have enough for now,” Terry reiterated. Rollins sized up Terry but Terry didn’t blink. Didn’t move. He merely kept his open stance and faced the detective and head of security. 

Rollins pushed boyish blond hair out of his face and then nodded. Detective Bill rocked back on his heels and then shoved his notebook into his coat and clicked a pen. “If you think of anything else, let us know, please,” he said. “And I’m sorry this happened to you.” 

You nodded to them and mumbled your thanks. They left with lingering, heated glances with Terry. He saw them out and then he half closed the door. 

“There’s a few things I need to handle and then we can get out of here.” 

You nodded, staring towards your shoes. Everything fucking hurt. You just wanted to turn into a giant baby. But people like you didn’t get to be coddled. You didn’t get to be human. It shattered the illusion and the fantasy.

You picked at the dry blood on your chin. Angie was going to kill you for messing up your face. You sighed and leaned forward.

“Do you have a headache, babe?” Mirage asked. 

You nodded. “I’ll check with a paramedic. They should be here by now.” Mirage stood up and grabbed Joya by the elbow. She protested for half a minute but you didn’t see what Mirage did to make Joya grow quiet. They left the room, leaving you and Terry alone. The last time you had been left alone together didn’t exactly go as planned. 

“Hey,” Terry said. 

You bit the inside of your cheek and then reluctantly looked at him. “How are you really doing?” 

You took a deep breath. “I’m fine,” you said. 

He crossed the room and then dropped into a squat. “There’s no reward for being a martyr,” he said.

You rolled your eyes but you smirked, refusing to smile at his words. “Everything hurts. But I’ll be okay,” you said. 

He nodded. You held each other’s gazes for a moment, just taking him in. His eyes scanned over you, jaw flexing. You didn’t know what he saw. Probably a terrified mess.

“I should apologize–” he started.

“Where were–” you said at the same time. 

He shook his head. “The bomb threat smelled like bullshit so I left a guard to watch you while I checked it out. I was locked in a closet and by the time I burst free, everyone was gone. I went looking, but the guard left his post. Fresh out the military, the bomb was triggering,” he said. His jaw flexed after he said that. 

“You couldn’t know it was triggering,” you said. Well, that explained that. You weren’t sure what you were looking for. An undying apology while he was on his knees? For him to acknowledge that he never would’ve left you voluntarily? He didn’t owe you anything. No one did. 

“He left his post. He’s fired,” Terry said with venom behind his words. 

You smiled ruefully. “That’s a bit harsh,” you said.

Terry blinked at you and you decided to drop it. Apparently, it was important to him and you didn’t know enough about the nuances about this stuff to comment. 

“We’re going to find this motherfucker,” Terry promised.

“Thank you. For coming when you did,” you said quietly. 

“I’m not leaving your side again,” he said. 

Your teeth clicked shut, drawing attention to your bruised chin. You didn’t know how to respond. He wasn’t supposed to leave your side earlier. But he did. You settled on a nod. 

Terry lifted from his squat and then returned to his duties, ordering people around, coordinating with others. 

Everything else moved along in a blur. First, you were checked out by a paramedic while Terry watched him like a hawk. You were treated for the scrape on your chin and your thigh was merely bruised. No sprains, no injuries. The paramedic called you lucky. Yeah, right. 

Terry managed to escort you to a truck that had been brought round back and off to the hotel room. The city nightlife went on without you. Though you did pass by a restaurant in downtown LA that played your latest song with Lord A.K. That sort of made you smile. 

You didn’t remember much about the ride to your hotel room besides one minute you were at the venue and the next you stood inside your hotel doorway while Terry checked around. 

“We’ll switch hotels tomorrow. For now, you can rest.” 

You nodded and went to your room without a word. Though you did stop just outside your bedroom. 

“Terry?” You asked.

“Yes, princess?” He asked.

You huffed with a smirk and then turned to him. “I want to learn how to defend myself. Will you teach me?” You asked. 

It wasn’t enough to survive anymore. It no longer suited you to just wait around for this lunatic to kill you. Clearly, your security wasn’t up to snuff. Clearly, this person could get to you at any point and at any time. The only person who could save you was you.

“If that’s what you want,” Terry said.

“That’s what I want.” 

Thank you, my loves. The Secret Terry Richmond Files | Part 1 | Part 2

Taglist:

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

@browngirldominion @iv0rysoap @thecookiebratz @harmshake @00aijia00

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

@avoidthings @lovedlover @blackgurlnhermoods @flydotty @sageispunk

@semi-yah @halfreal-and-halffiction @motheroffae @melaninpov @pinkpantheris

@slutsareteacherstoo @blackerthings @dreamsinfocus @brattyfics @mermaidchansons

@monaeesstuff @henneseyhoe @blowmymbackout @charismablu @playgurlxoxo

@misskiki90 @miyuhpapayuh @satoruya @starcrossedxwriter @yamst3rdamctrl

@steampunkprincess147 @sweettea-and-honeybutter @theblacklewinsky @soft-persephone @notapradagurl7

@thegreatlibraryofalex @amyhennessyhouse @hihellogoodbyebruh @becauseimswagman1

[saturnville]

echoes in the heights, terry richmond | chapter one.

Synopsis: In the quiet town of Riverside Heights, Terry Richmond seeks a fresh start, but his growing connection with the guarded Elara Taylor forces him to confront the past he’s tried to leave behind—and the future he’s afraid to embrace.

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!Fem!OC (Elara Taylor)

A/N: Unless you’d like to be removed, you must interact with a reblog and/or comment to keep your spot on the taglist. Enjoy!

Tags: @mauvecherie-writes @saintslewis @vile-harlot @emjayewrites @turn-thy-paige @theglamclosetsl

Starting a new life took work. Shedding the remnants of the past and putting on cloaks on the future, though uncomfortable, was necessary. It was never easy, but it was necessary.

So, he bought an old pickup, packed his belongings, and drove three hours eastward until he reached Riverside Heights. It was a quaint town with about 10,000 people, but it would do. He was satisfied when his eyes landed on the sign as he drove past the threshold. Welcome to Riverside Heights! Most populous Black town in the East. Whatever internal compass guided him led him to the right place.

The same day, he found an apartment owned by an elderly couple looking for another tenant.

They said it was fully furnished and had rent and utilities much under his budget. He quickly signed the dotted line and gratefully presented money for the deposit.

He spent the evening in his new apartment. Although he didn’t have much, he hoped it would eventually become like home. He basked in the warmth of the quaint bedroom and the shower’s heat against his sore body. For the first time in a long time, he slept like a baby that night, and it was needed for the day he had ahead.

There was a job to obtain, and he wouldn’t stop until he found one.

He woke up early the following day before the sunlight hit the bedroom. He said a quick prayer, made his bed, and dropped to the floor to do a few quick exercises before heading to the shower to begin his hygiene routine.

Afterward, he wore a black polo, dark jeans, and his cleanest boots. He glanced in the mirror momentarily. His eyes, usually full of life, were dull and tired. Sure, the color was light, but the sparkle behind them was long gone. Whatever slither of happiness was left died right alongside Mike in that prison cell where his body collapsed. No matter how hard he tried, happiness seemed out of reach, and it was exhausting to chase after it.

He hadn’t realized he was crying until a tear slid down his cheek. He mumbled lowly, wiped his face roughly, and shuffled out the door quickly.

Riverside Heights was a beautiful town full of vibrancy and life. Everyone seemed genuine and kind. Everywhere he turned, he was met with a warm smile and a kind, “How are you, sir?” This was very different from his previous experiences.

Yet, he still felt like an outsider. He was surrounded by people who looked like him, who most likely knew nothing of his past, and who were so kind, yet he was an outsider in a land that shouldn’t be foreign.

But rather than staying in his head, he smiled back, hoping people wouldn’t see the stiffness of it, and said, “Doing well, thank you for asking. Um, I’m new in town, and I’m looking for a job. Do you have any suggestions on where to look?”

Being the kind woman she was, Ms. Willis walked to a community event with him. “You came just in time. They’re having a job fair at the local community center. There are plenty of folks there looking to hire. I hope you find what you need.”

They walked silently for a while, and he took in the beauty of Riverside Heights. The sun beamed on them, warming his skin. Along the road were hundreds of freshly planted flowers and plants. He always liked plants. They were beautiful to him. The grass was freshly cut and irritated his nose, but he let it go to bask in nature.

His eyes followed the fowls in the air as they chirped and danced freely. How beautiful that must have been. The pace of the town was steady. People ran on the sidewalks, children played in the field with their friends, and newborn babies cried as their parents tried to calm them. They were greeted by a few people, some asking about him and his unfamiliar face and others addressing Ms. Willis. Each interaction was unique and lovely. Everyone was so friendly.

Moments later, Ms. Willis spoke up. Her graying eyes squinted as she looked at the young man who towered over her. “Why Riverside Heights? Most folks that are here were born here. We don’t get folks coming in from the outside too often.”

The question he dreaded had come to haunt him. He sighed and stuffed his hands into his pockets. “It’s a long story,” he gave a rueful chuckle. He tore his eyes away from hers. He

couldn’t look her in the eye. He swallowed the growing lump in his throat and shrugged. “Just needed a new start, away from what I knew before. Was driving for a few hours, saw the sign, and decided to try it.”

Just as his grandmother would do, she crossed her hands over one another and nodded, drawing out a long mhm as she did so. “You’ll have to tell me that story. Maybe over some dinner and a good peach cobbler. I’m sure you don’t have food in that stomach of yours.” She tapped his belly, and he smiled bashfully and rubbed the back of his neck. “And regardless of the reason, my boy, I am glad you’re here.”

“Thank you, Ms. Willis,” he said gratefully, accepting the hand squeeze she gave. They engaged in more small talk before they arrived at the community center. Before he walked in, she grabbed his arm and caressed it lovingly, “You got my number now, so I expect your call cause dinner is at 6. I’ll see you tonight.”

With a soft “Yes, ma’am” and a smile, he retreated and headed toward the community center. People were packed like sardines in the center, looking for jobs. He considered himself one of the lucky ones. There, within thirty minutes, he found a job. It was nothing crazy, but it was stable. It was normal. It was what he needed.

“Construction, aye?” He lifted his eyes from the documents he was given and saw a dark-eyed, dark-haired man, maybe around his age, with his hands in his pocket. “Been needing some more workers out here. I look forward to working with you.”

Naturally, he stuck his hand out, “Terry Richmond. Nice to meet you, man.” The man, Terry learned, was Jackson, the son of Ms. Willis. He worked at the construction company as a project manager and insisted they’d spend a lot of time together.

Terry was hesitant at first, but it was what he needed. Maybe, in due time, he wouldn’t feel like an outsider but rather a member of Riverside Heights.

At least, so he hoped.

-

After dinner at Ms. Willis’, Terry settled into his apartment. He placed the leftovers in the fridge and the groceries he picked up on the way back. It was a weird feeling to move and settle into what would be a new life. There was pressure, a lot of it.

To not screw up, to keep his head down, and stay focused. To ensure that this life would be better than the previous one.

It was what he wanted. It was what he deserved. So, rather than sulking over what was, he tried to focus on the present and do what ordinary people do when they move—eat ice cream and watch trashy movies on television. It wasn’t much, and he didn’t know if it would help, but he was more than willing to try. He had no choice.

-

Two days later, he started work. He was ready to start, dressed in a logoed short-sleeved shirt, thick cargo pants, and work boots.

He did not have a busy workday. Although orientation took all day, he had leftovers from dinner with Ms. Willis to rejuvenate his spirit.

He sat in the corner while eating lunch. Being alone didn’t last long, though. He heard a familiar voice call out his name, “Terry, my man.” He turned to see Jackson, dressed in a blue suit with a hard hat on his head. Terry turned swiftly, nodding as he swallowed the chicken and rice.

“Jackson,” he greeted lowly. “How you doin’?” Jackson replied with an exasperated sigh and peeled the hard hat off his head, revealing his matted curls.

“Man, listen. The new city planner has been behind me regarding these new plans. She ain’t one to be played with.” Terry assumed she was a handful by his tone and shaking his head. He hadn’t known Jackson long, but he was a goofy guy based on his interactions over having dinner three nights at Ms. Willis. So, being bent out of shape over work meant the city planner wasn’t easy to deal with.

“In what way?” Terry asked curiously. This came as a surprise to him. Even though he’d only been in the city for a few days, he couldn’t imagine anyone behind a pain in his behind.

“Is she that bad, or she just won’t let you flirt with her?” Terry’s comment made Jackson cut his eyes. Terry choked on his water as he laughed.

Jackson pulled up a chair and swung it around. “Nah, she’s just…you’ll know when you see her,

man. Had me feeling like I didn’t know how to do my job.” Terry’s eyebrow raised. She sounded condescending, but he was old enough to know not to form opinions based on someone else’s.

Terry closed his Tupperware container and slid it back into the small lunch box he had purchased from the market. “Guess I’ll find out when I meet her.” He stood from his seat and shrugged.

Jackson scoffed. “That’s if you survive her wrath. Just know, I warned you, brother.”

“Warning heard.”

-

“Mr. Richmond, I’m gonna be honest, I’m not sure how capable you are to conduct this projectalongside Mr. Willis.” Jackson was right. She was condescending as hell, and it didn’t sit right with him.

Terry’s light eyes met Jackson’s darker ones; they shared a look. One that said, “I told you so,” and “I see what you mean.” Terry rolled his shoulders back and intertwined his hands.

“And if I may ask, Ms. Taylor. How’d you reach that conclusion?” His facial expressions remained unchanged, though his voice showed slight annoyance with her comment. Ms. Taylor, or Elara Taylor, City Planner of Riverside Heights, mimicked his movement.

She glanced at his resume on her temporary desk.

“You don’t have much construction experience. How do I know you won’t put a faulty pipe in the ground?” Dear God, he thought to himself. He had no clue who this woman was, and she didn’t know him either, yet here she was, making wild accusations with an accusatory tone.

Terry glanced at Jackson swiftly. He had to choose his words wisely for his job and Jackson's position, but she wasn’t getting away with talking to him like an incompetent child.

“Ms. Taylor, common sense is a virtue I possess. I may not be Bob the Builder, but I’m a marine. I’ve worked with things far worse than a pipe, which I’m sure one of the many contractors your office hired would guide me on how to install. I am here for a reason: to do my job. With my two years of prior construction experience.” Terry wasn’t one to get snippy. He usually was cool, calm, and collected, but the last thing he would tolerate was issues with a woman he didn’t know from a can of paint; her title be damned.

Silence fell over the room. Jackson looked between them, sensing the newfound tension between them. He sunk further in his chair.

Elara stared blankly at him. Her dark eyes bore into his light ones. He’d gotten many compliments on his eyes over the years, but hers were just as stunning, if not more. Something about brown eyes made his knees weak, and his loins stirred.

As their staring game intensified, he noted that she was beautiful. Her complexion was rich in hue and relatively smooth, save for the fading acne scars on her cheeks. Her nose and lips

were distinct and whole, like her ancestors. She wore her hair straight, the dark tresses settling at her shoulders, and she wore a two-piece navy blue suit. Elara Taylor was the head woman in charge.

Her eyes softened. She cleared her throat and replied in a softer tone. “So be it. I hope you’re as good as Ms. Willis advocates for you to be. And Jackson, I expect that draft to be on my desk at 9 tomorrow morning. You’re dismissed.” She gave them no opportunity to respond before picking up her pen and scribbling on paper.

Terry chuckled and stood from his seat. His noise caught her attention. She raised an eyebrow.

He raised one back. “You have a great evening, Ms. Taylor.”

She grumbled something under her breath but said nothing further as he left the office, and Jackson shuffled behind him.

Once they were far enough, Jackson said, “Told you she was a lot.”

Terry shrugged and walked toward the meeting room to receive instruction from one of his trainers. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

[earthchica]

Funny How Time Flies

terry richmond x black, fem!/plus size reader

summary: you are a shy, introverted person who wants to break out of your shell and experience fun at least once in your life. During a mutual friend's group trip, you meet Terry and have the best sex with him. Once the fun is over, will you and Terry stay in touch?

warnings: explicit smut (18+), light use of daddy, foul language, dirty talking, dom/sub, oral (f), pussy slaps, fingering, unprotected sex, nicknames (beautiful, baby, baby girl), words: (3k)

note: hey, I'm working on another mini-series, but this one is sweet, wholesome, and freaky! let me know your thoughts and if you want to be tagged in future parts. please enjoy!

series masterlist

You’ve been shy and introverted your entire life, often feeling tired of this loneliness. Your daily routine typically consists of working, exercising, and returning home, which leaves little opportunity for social interaction or adventure.

While you go out when you want to, most of your time is spent at home with your loving dog. Despite that, you know something is missing—particularly, a boyfriend and a more vibrant social life.

The anxiety stemming from your shyness made it difficult for you to step outside your comfort zone. You want to seek more experiences beyond the walls of your home and be more outgoing.

When your friends Sasha and Maya invited you on a group trip, you accepted. They were surprised but happy and reassured you that you wouldn’t feel left out or awkward during the trip.

Sasha, in particular, couldn’t contain her excitement, as explained by her boyfriend, Bryce. He was bringing his old marine friend, Terry Richmond.

You met the girls at the airport and greeted them with hugs. Sasha explained that Bryce and Cameron needed to find Terry, which made you feel nervous. She told you a little about him, but ultimately, you would have to form your own opinion about him.

"Oh, here they come! Finally,” Sasha replied, gesturing towards three tall, fit men in the distance.

Bryce was a tall, dark-skinned man, while Cam was kind of brown-skinned since he was lighter than Bryce. Then your eyes led to him. Who must be Terry?

At that moment, you felt an undeniable spark of love at first sight. Terry was slightly taller than Bryce and Cam and had a lighter skin tone.

He was so handsome, with good hands, good lips, and, good god, a nice body!!! He was fine, and you wanna intertwine him.

"Good, made it back on time and found big dawg," Bryce nudged Terry on the arm, laughed, and then moved over to Sasha.

"Yeah, bro was at the wrong damn gate/terminal," Cam said, walking over to Maya and greeted her with a kiss on the forehead.

"My fault; it's been a minute since I've been at the damn airport; y'all know I don't travel a lot," Terry chuckled lightly as he caught you staring, prompting you to look away.

"Well, we're glad you found him. Now...um, Terry, I want you to meet someone," Maya said with a smile.

He raised his eyebrows curiously and she motioned towards you and introduced you to Terry by using your name.

“Hey, there!” He said, giving a polite wave, and you just stared at him. Everyone looked at you, awaiting your response, but nothing came out until Sasha nudged you.

“Hi,” you said, waving back with a small mile. You held his gaze for a moment, feeling a flutter of nerves in your stomach, before shyly turning your eyes away.

The flight to Cancun, Mexico, is currently boarding for its scheduled departure at 1 PM. Passengers are advised to have their boarding passes and identification ready and to proceed to the gate promptly.

"Okay, that's us. Who's ready to get Lit?" Maya clapped her hands, easing the awkwardness and creating a more hype vibe.

Sasha wrapped her arm around your shoulders playfully, giving you a knowing look through her sunglasses.

"Look at you, drooling all over Terry already; I told you he would be your type," She teased, and you playfully hit her arm.

Soon enough, you were all on the plane, and of course, you were sitting next to Terry. He was talking to you, but you felt so nervous that your responses were short.

You both had a lot in common: you were single, didn’t get out much, and were on this trip to have fun. You couldn’t believe that a handsome man like Terry wanted to talk to you despite your shyness.

Terry was eager to talk to you from the moment he first saw you. He felt a strong connection and wanted to get to know you better. He was really glad he decided to go on this trip because your sweet and shy nature made him want to break you out of your shell.

“You're kind of the shy and quiet type, huh?! I like that; some people say I'm reserved, so I guess I can relate,"

"You don't seem like it; you seem like an outgoing person." You look at him for a second. His captivating hazel-green eyes burn into yours, causing a flutter in your chest.

"Well, I sometimes can be both; I'm a little reserved when I don't know the person, but if I know you, I'm more open, I guess," Terry explained, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips.

"What makes me so different?" You asked in a playful tone, building some confidence.

Terry laughs and smirks, "I guess you're that special!"

You felt like your heart exploded the way he looked at you, obviously attracted to you. You just nodded, looking away, trying to hide your smile.

“Hey....come on, I was just getting used to hearing that pretty voice of yours,” Terry said, leaning in, and your breath hitched.

You and Terry chatted throughout the entire plane ride. Although you were still a bit shy, you found yourself being more talkative than before, which felt positive.

Perhaps Terry was just what you needed for this trip. Once your group arrived at the stunning villa, you marveled at its beautiful interior.

“Alright,” Maya announced, her enthusiasm infectious as she gathered everyone to discuss the week's activities. She carefully ensured everyone felt included and excited about them.

Maya suggested you all chill and settle into our bedrooms for the afternoon. You began rolling your heavy suitcase down the hall, its wheels clicking softly against the floor.

“Do you need a hand?” Terry asked, approaching with a friendly smile and ready to help you with your suitcase.

"Yeah, thanks." You said with a small smile, walking to your bedroom door and walking in.

"You can put it right there, " You said, pointing at the chair before you and indicating that he should place it there. Terry glanced at you curiously as if he were too nervous to ask a question.

A moment of silent communication passes between you. Terry stepped forward, closing the distance, and you felt your heart race.

You instinctively wanted to shy away, but you fought against the urge, reminding yourself to be brave.

“I hope this doesn’t sound too forward, but I would love to take you on a date tonight. I am drawn to you and want to crack your shy shell and see what’s inside. Of course, only if you want me to," He expressed with a hopeful smile.

“I would love that, Terry,” You said with a smile. Terry smiled back, gave you his number, and set the date plans.

He walked out, winking at you as he left the bedroom. You bit your lip and excitedly squealed, jumping dramatically onto the comfortable bed.

-

You told the girls about the date, and they were so excited that they went upstairs to your bedroom to help you out.

“I don’t think I can do this; it's been so long since i've been on a date, and all together, I'm shy as fuck” You said, getting your nerves up.

“Babe, it’s fine. You need this, and Terry is an amazing guy. We wouldn't have brought him on this trip if we didn't know he would be perfect for you.” Sasha says, ease your anxiety a lot more.

“Sasha is right; just have fun and let go, but not too much; you might get dicknotized,” Maya smiles playfully as she hands you a sexy yellow dress that catches the light beautifully.

"This will look amazing on you," She added, her eyes sparkling excitedly. As you slipped into the dress, your nerves faded, replaced by a sense of pride.

Maya's perfume filled the room as she sprayed on you; it had a familiar and comforting aroma.

Sasha, the fashionista, was styling your box braids and applying your makeup while you looked in the mirror.

"Remember," She said, glancing over her shoulder, "confidence is key. Just be yourself."

After saying bye to Sasha and Maya, you closed the door behind you and took a deep breath. You were walking downstairs and Terry stood there at the bottom, clearly waiting for you.

His eyes widened, taking in every detail. You couldn't help but giggle at his look of awe. He seemed captivated by your radiant beauty, his gaze lingering on your elegant curves.

“Wow, you look beautiful,” Terry said. You smiled and looked him over, noticing he was wearing a black button-up shirt and shorts.

"Thank you. Um..you look beautif-I mean handsome!" You cursed at yourself in your mind, feeling totally embarrassed, and Terry found it cute.

"Thanks! Are you ready?" Terry asked, holding his arm out with a smile and you happily accepted.

Both of you walk leisurely down the path, arm in arm while listening to the gentle sound of waves crashing against the shore accompanies you as you make your way to the charming ocean-view restaurant that overlooks the sparkling waters.

You and Terry walk inside, and the warm glow of the intimate setting welcomes you. You find a cozy table for two awaiting your arrival. Moments later, a friendly waiter approaches, ready to take your drink orders.

While waiting, Terry struck up a conversation that flowed effortlessly. His warm smile and engaging demeanor made it easy to share about yourself. With every exchanged joke and smile, you found yourself becoming more comfortable, as if he had a talent for bringing out the best in people.

His smooth charm was evident; he made you feel special and understood, gently encouraging you to step out of your shy little shell and embrace the moment because the air between you crackled with sexual tension, growing palpable by the minute.

The waiter approached your table, balancing a tray of drinks that shimmered in the dim light. He set them down before you with a polite smile. After taking your food orders, he left you both.

Terry, his eyes sparkling, leaned in closer, a playful grin spreading across his face.

“While we wait, how about we play a game of ‘Would you rather?’” Terry proposed, the excitement in his voice making the suggestion feel inviting.

"Okay," You replied, intrigued and ready to dive into the game.

“Okay, would you rather…” Terry started, propping his chin on his hand as he contemplated the question.

“Would you rather live deep in the ocean or explore the vastness of space?”

You paused for a moment, considering the options carefully. “Hmm, that’s a tough choice. But I think I would choose space,” You finally replied.

“Mmm, interesting! What makes you lean toward space?” Terry inquired, leaning forward with curiosity.

“I have always been interested in space and astronomy. If I could, I would be an astronaut, and the experience would be exciting,” You said, taking a sip of your wine.

"Wow, I would love to learn more about that, but it's your turn," Terry said, his eyes lighting up with curiosity and a warm smile spreading across his face. The "Would You Rather" game had been going for a while and had taken a slightly naughty turn.

Before long, the waiter arrives with both of your meals, setting them down on the table with a flourish. As the delightful aromas fill the air, you take a moment to appreciate the dishes before returning to Terry.

Intrigued by the connection you two are building, you changed the subject wanting to know about Terry's interests and experiences, eager to learn more about his passions.

Terry paused mid-sentence, his gaze falling on your necklace, which had come unhooked. With a gentle smile, he leaned in close and secured the clasp.

You found yourself momentarily lost in the warmth of his touch, savoring the soft caress against your dark brown skin, a delightful contrast that sent a shiver of warmth through you.

Terry pulled away, a smirk playing on his lips, and effortlessly transitioned back into talking as if nothing had happened. You couldn't help but notice his subtle game; it was working on you like a charm.

Your desire was intense, and your craving seemed to deepen with every word he spoke. You were utterly captivated, wanting him more than ever before.

After dinner, you both walk silently side by side on the beach. Your hands nearly touch until Terry grabs yours and holds it, making you smile.

You slowly look up at him, and you find that his eyes are already fixed on you.

"What?" You asked.

"Just admiring how gorgeous you are," Terry stopped you from walking by wrapping his arms around your plump waist.

You touched his chest, thinking you both would finally kiss. But Terry was teasing you again. He lifted you slightly, catching you off guard and causing you to drop your purse and heels.

“Oh my goodness, what are you doing, Terry?” You gasped, struggling to escape his firm hold on you.

“Let’s get in the water; I bet it’s cold,” He said, trying to pull you closer.

“No, Terry!” You squealed, quickly breaking free from his grasp and running away from him with your tongue sticking out.

“Hey!” he yelled, chasing after you. When he finally caught you, he wrapped his arms around your waist from behind and started tickling you.

You bounced up and down with laughter, trying to escape his grip. Just as Terry was about to say something, he accidentally tripped over something in the sand. Both of you fell together. You looked at him, and he looked at you.

You both laughed as Terry rolled off of you, pulling you onto his chest and kissing the top of your head, making your heart flutter. He eventually helped you out of the sand and retrieved your purse and heels.

Feeling a surge of confidence, you leaned in and pressed your lips against his, surprising him with the suddenness of your action. As you pulled back, a shy smile crept onto your face, and you turned your gaze to the side, feeling excitement and nervousness.

In an instant, Terry reached out, his fingers gently cupping your cheek, drawing your attention back to him. His eyes searched yours, a blend of sweetness and warmth reflected in them.

Then, without breaking his gaze, he leaned in closer, his lips brushing softly against yours as he kissed you, igniting a flutter of butterflies in your stomach.

You let out a muffled moan, feeling his hands gliding over your ass with a gentle yet teasing touch. Your breath caught in your throat, pulling away while feeling him firmly grasping it.

"Do you wanna continue this back at the villa?" Terry asked, his eyes darkened with desire as he looked down at you.

"Yes," you said, nodding firmly as you still held the gaze. Your voice remained steady, even as a whirlwind of emotions surged within you—excitement, desire, and a hint of nervousness mingled together.

-

Once stepped into the bedroom, Terry pressed you against the solid door. His lips met yours in a passionate, rough kiss, feeling an electric spark hit and made your heart race.

"I've been waiting to take this dress off you since I saw you in it," He murmured in your ear, running his hands down the bodice of your yellow dress.

"And it's just driving me wild," He whispered, which made you shiver.

"Well, take it off if you're brave enough," You spoke boldly, which made him smirk.

You gasped as he lifted you in his arms and carried you to the bed. You still couldn't get over the fact that he was so strong to pick you up, which was a turn-on for you.

He picked you down as both of you stood at the edge of the bed; he was kissing your neck, and his lips peppered on your dark-brown skin, pausing here and there to suck on the sensitive flesh.

His hand reached behind your back to find the zipper of your dress, pushing it down to your feet. You step out of it, and his hands touch your exposed breasts.

As you stood there, a wave of insecurity washed over you, causing you to shy away slightly. Just when you thought about retreating and hiding yourself, Terry stopped you. His gaze was steady and inviting, searching your eyes.

"You're beautiful, baby. Don't hide from me!" He whispers genuinely, making you feel warm inside. You kiss him as his hands grip your breasts.

You let out a soft moan, pulling away and popping his black button-up shirt open. You admired his abs and slid your fingers down his chest.

Terry shivered slightly at your touch; you had the same effect on him as he had on you. Both of you practically ripped each other's clothes. You gently laid yourself down as Terry hovered above you.

You pulled him down for another kiss as he cupped your right breast in his hand while his lips moved away from yours. His tongue dragged across the dark area of your areola.

"Such nice big tits, so good to suck," Terry growls and grabs both of your breasts with his hand, squeezing and sucking them, causing you to whimper.

"How does that feel, baby?" He asked, pulling away from sucking your nipples as his right hand traveled down to your wet folds, and circled them.

A loud moan escaped your lips, felt him push two fingers inside of you, prompting you to cover your mouth to avoid being heard by the others.

"Nah, baby girl, none of that. You have no idea how desperate I want to hear you moan for me. If you don’t let yourself make any sounds, I’ll have to find a way to draw them out."

"Yes-yes....ohhhh....It-it feels good....ahh......so good," You moaned, feeling him moved below and rested between your plump legs, glancing up at you. He spread them wide, getting a good look at your pussy.

"Mmmm, a pretty girl with a pretty pussy" He said before placing his hands on your legs and dragging his tongue between your wet folds.

"Yes....fuck....ahh fuck" You moaned, arching your back and grabbing your breasts as he repeated the action with more pressure, his tongue sliding against your bundle of nerves.

"Mmm, tastes so damn good, girl" His hands were holding your wide hips as he continued to suck and lick you dry, drawing desperate soft moans from your mouth. 

Terry buried deeper between your plump legs, which was driving you crazy. The pleasure you were feeling going through your body was so overwhelming.

"Ahh fuck, Terry fucking eat this pussy, mutherfucka" You moaned, and your fingers gently caressed his head, relishing the closeness of him.

Terry chuckles. "Mmm, there you go, keep talking nasty to me, baby. I see I'm bringing the best out of you, the freak in you," He said before resuming devouring your pussy.

Another loud moan escaped your lips as the pleasure built within you, clenching around his fingers while you felt yourself getting close.

"Are you gonna cum, beautiful?" He asked, moving up to look into your eyes and began to finger fuck you fast.

"Yes, Terry, oh shit.....fuck-fuck don't stop fuck." You cried, suddenly cumming hard, eyes rolling in the back of your head.

"Yeah, that's it, baby girl. Fucking cum for Daddy," Terry said, still fingering you and then smacking your pussy as wet gushing came out of you, causing you to cry.

"Shit, look at that, baby. And I did all that with my tongue and fingers; I can't wait to see how your pussy takes my dick" He said with a chuckle, licking his fingers, and you watched him coming down from your intense high.

You kissed him, slightly tasting yourself as he cupped your breast in his hand while your hand slid down his chest to his throbbing dick; you got a good look at it and gasped at it.

"Like what you see?" Terry whispered in your ear.

"Yes, it's so big," You moaned, moving your hand up and down his length as you kissed him again but deeply. A very deep moan came from his mouth when you got a little faster.

"Fuck, girl, I need you…" Terry said with a slight moan, which made you smile. He moved on top of you and slowly entered your folds, causing you to go bananas.

You were loving the fullness of his thickness inside of you as he began thrusting, drawing soft moans from you. Terry asked, looking down at you to see if it was good, but you nodded.

"Come on, baby. Don't get shy on me again; tell me how it feels?" He asked, his hands on your waist sliding down to grasp your wide hips, pulling you closer so he could bury himself deeper.

"Yes, Terry fuck me, fuck it feels good!" You moaned, wrapping your plump legs around his waist tighter, allowing a new, delicious angle that you both liked.

Your moans became louder and more frequent as his thrusts came faster but still as gently and passionately as ever.

"That's it, girl....let everyone know i'm fucking this pussy good, You like it, you like how I am fucking you" Terry moaned while his rhythm never stopped looking down at you with so much desire and lust;

"Oh yes, Daddy fuck me, it feels so good," You cried, looking up at him as he lifted your legs to his shoulders and pounding into you faster and harder but much more profound.

"Take that fucking dick like a good girl;" Terry growled, tightening his grip on your legs.

"....fuck are you about to cum, baby?" Terry moaned, feeling the warmth of your walls, clenched around him.

"Oh....yes, fuckfuckfuck..I'm-I'm cumming-" You moaned, digging your nails deep into his arms and scratching down.

"Fucking let it go, baby."

"AHHH!!" You screamed, coming hard again and Terry wasn't too far behind, cursing, pulling out; your legs immediately fell to his waist as his hot cum spurted all over your belly, making you slightly giggle.

"Shit," Terry cursed, lowered himself, and propped up on his left arm as his head buried in your neck.

He entirely collapsed on top of you, and you wrapped your arms around him. You slid your hand up and down his sweaty back while he gave you small, lazy kisses on your face and neck.

Terry rolls off you, and both of you calm down from your high. You bite your lip and turn to prop yourself up to look at him.

"That was—" You couldn't decide what word to use. It was beyond amazing, it was...

"Mind-blowing, yeah," He agreed, looking at you and lifting himself up to kiss you.

"Up for another round in the shower?"He asked, pulling away and caressing your hip.

"Yes!" Both of you smirked at each other and got out of bed to walk to the bathroom; Terry made you cum two more times that night.

[tvchi]

😍😍😍

Can I request firefighter Terry Richmond 🫣 please

𝐀 𝐓𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞 𝐎𝐟 𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐞

𝕤𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪 : Mica had a curious request of her husband. He denied her numerous times and with Terry, she learned to take what she wanted.

𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐜 || sexual situations & language

In hindsight she knew what he did was serious work. Saving lives, kittens, old people, but the taste of sweat and ash had a special place in her heart, mind, and mouth. Swallowing Terry's dick, she barely let him get in the house and remove his dirty uniform pants before dropping to her knees in front of him. Ten hours ago he had gotten a call about a burning warehouse. Some kids had fun with fireworks and when old equipment caught fire, they fled. 

Ten hours ago they were cuddled up on the couch for a marathon of movies and snacks. It was one of his few "off days" and while he was still on call, they knew to call the house phone if the emergency was real and they needed him. Terry was two fingers deep in her pussy when the call came through. After a few apologetic kisses to her clit, he dressed and headed to the site, his truck peeling out of the driveway as his lights flashed. 

"Baby,' he groans, head thudding backwards against the front door, 'let me, fuck, shower?" He pleaded as her head bobbed up and down, slurping his dick further into her warm mouth. What. A. Welcome. Home. 

"No,' she mumbled. 

Mica had told him her fantasy and he laughed about it, thinking it was one of her drunken fanfic reading habits. Instead, she had tried numerous times to lick the sweat from his tip after his trips from the gym. She even wanted to join him in the shower and clean him up with her mouth, but he swatted her aways way with a laugh. It wasn't that he didn't want to, he did, but he thought it was too much. Just smelly. As a clean man, he didn't want to soil her mouth like that, no matter how many times he filled it with is cum. 

"Mi,' he croaked, his hand betraying him and firmly gripping the back of her head. 

Mica smiled around his dick. The taste of sweat and him was strong. She could smell the remnants of fire from the site. The unzipped fireman pants were baggy and starting to slips down his thighs. She tugged them the rest of the way and planted her hands on his thighs while looking up at him. 

"Terry,' she hummed, her tongue licking the tip of his dick, precum oozing out in thick drops. "Look at me, baby,' she whispered, her tongue finding a missed spot of swat just at the junction between where his hip and thigh met. 

"Shit, Mica, baby please." 

"And you said you didn't want it,' she purred. 

Boldly ignoring his weeping dick, she kissed up to his stomach, licking around his navel and back down. 

Her hands reached around and grabbed the firm globes of his ass as her mouth swallowed him whole again. Her eyes fluttered closed as she sucked him off, the tv blaring some anime in the background she had ditched as soon as she heard his truck pulling into the driveway. Mica loved making him feel this way; good, at her mercy, so pliant. 

"I fucking lied,' he gritted through his teeth, trying not to fuck her throat. "Suck that big dick,' he grunts, his hips surging forward in a slow thrust. 

Mica enjoyed the praise as he egged her on. His fingers stroked her scalp before he grabbed her hair, making a pony tail with her curls to hold onto. 

He found his completion in her mouth, putting out the fire in his belly briefly, before yanking her up and tossing her over his shoulder. She loved the fireman carry and as he bounced up the stairs with her laughing, he swatted her ass each step of the way. Her body landed on their king bed with a thud before his large body was covering hers. 

She brought him lunch the following afternoon. In a white and blue sundress, Mica entered the firehouse and headed towards the common room. Terry was next to some equipment, and when he lowered into a squat to get a reading on one of the tanks, she bit the inside of her cheek. 

"Hey Mrs. Richmond!" Tia, one of the few women on the team greeted warmly. "It's been a while since you've been here!" 

"I know, work has sucked the life out of me,' she replied, knowing she sucked the life out of her husband last night. 

"Yeah, well it's good to see you!" She moved on quickly, finding one of the guys to go move some boxes for her. 

"Baby boy,' she whispered after making it to Terry's side, he looked up at her and a slow smile came to his face. 

He stood slowly, knowing she liked how he towered over her, and pressed a kiss to her forehead. 

"Miss me that much,' he teased, his arm coming around her waist as he led her towards the kitchen. "What's that,' he asked, tapping the container in her hands. 

"Lunch. I know you haven't eaten." 

Terry thanked her and placed his lunch in the fridge. Everyone knew not to touch his food so he wasn't bothered by people going in and out of the fridge behind him. No one wanted to owe Terry lunch. He was a expensive eater, on purpose. 

"But I did miss you." 

It was now her off day and she hated they could never be off at the same time unless they both took off, but their jobs required commitment. 

"Hm,' he replied, leading her to one of the empty storage rooms. 

Mica was confused as he closed the door and dropped to his needs. 

"Terry!" 

He looked up at her and before his head disappeared under dress, he winked. "We both have fantasies and look at you wearing this dress to bring me my real lunch." 

"I wasn't….damnit,' she wined, feeling his tongue flatted against her panty-less cunt. 

"Not too loud,' he warns. "I just want a taste."

@nayaesworld @peachbuttetfly @harmshake @heauxvibez @avoidthings @mymindisneverhere @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @eilujion @heytaewrites @browngirldominion @insidefeelingofanadult @blackerthings @gwenda-fav @brandithecrystalgem

@captainwithoutmakingitlove @dremmmm @kindofaintrovert @thegreatlibraryofalex @jimmybutlrr @beenathembo @kuromiish @virgomess @bbyxgall @theereina @randomhood @ash-ketchumzzz @dundienominated

@swavydadon wabi-sabi1090 Blackgurlkillinit prawspektn iterum-incipi chiachia14 liquorlaughslove L0vesicktimes kinginwithbreezy-blog eilujion Atomicqueenbitch-blog gabbywontlose Heytaewrites 1333286ab-blog Keyera-jackson deja-r

Solunaseira 1thrasherkookie1 moooonluvr ashykneee cocogoddess0g zoey101-2 reignsboy19 cicici03 Elizablu lous-house-of-thoughtsl reci1996 romansglow mjcurlsss yana3sworld chloeijuana nun0ir simplyzeeka taureanstargirl mzv11

Disc0fair browngirldominion Murrylove venusesworld uceyliyah  Venusesworld prettyfilmz simplyzeeka heytaewrites Liquorlaughslove 

[mauvecherie-writes]

FREAKTOBER 04 | terry richmond.

RATING: 18+ NSFW mature. [not my best writing I will admit.]

🎀 FREAKTOBER MASTERLIST 🎀

A loud moan escaped before you could stop it. A deep chuckle came from behind you as he pressed his chest into your back which pushed him deeper into you. His large hand came to your neck and gripped it to turn your head.

“You’ve got to be quiet baby.” Terry spoke into your ear with a teasing tone in his voice. “You don’t want the party to hear you getting fucked, do you?”

“Then stop fucking me so good then.” You whispered back. You felt the smirk on his lips against your cheek before he placed a kiss on it.

“Sorry, I can’t do that.” Terry said. “I have to make sure that I have you coming back for more.” His free hand then came to the lower part of your back and pushed down to arch you forward.

As your eyes rolled to the back of your head, you thought about how dirty this whole situation was. Getting fucked in your brother’s guest bathroom by his new friend.

You didn’t care about the optics of it all as his dick was pushing through your tight pussy and touching spots your past lovers could not reach. Damn it all, all you wanted and needed in that moment was for Terry to keep doing what he was doing.

He groaned against your shoulder, kissing and nipping sat your flushed skin before letting his hand drop from your neck to your chest to cup your exposed breast into his large palm.

From your bent position, you tried your best to push back against his thrusts, squeezing your walls around him each time he pulled his dick out. You smiled at the change of pattern in his breathing as your hips moved in perfect rhythm.

“This pussy is so good, shit.’ He managed to stutter out. You looked back and the intense gaze of his molten grey eyes that drew you in initially sent a shiver down the length of your spine.

“Fuck me harder.” You begged. You held on the forearm of the hand that was on your waist. At the back of your mind, you had began panicking about the time. You knew that you had been gone for close to ten minutes and very soon, your brother was going to be looking for you.

Pure adrenaline was rushing through your veins as Terry drove into your pussy harder and faster. His pounding was infectious and it was making you dizzy from the pleasure.

“Kiss me.” You whimpered and Terry did not need telling twice as he pulled you back, curving your back even further so that you could meet his lips. You moaned into his mouth as you deepened the kiss, your tongue teasing his.

“I”m about to cum.” You whispered as your muscles tightened as your orgasm was close.

“Cum for me, baby.” He whispered against your lips. “Let me feel you drench this dick.” His words didn’t stop as he also felt his climax approaching. As you cunt clenched around him, you crashed your lips into his to muffle your whines as your pussy pulsated around him as you came.

That brought his climax forward.

Terry pulled out of you just in time for him to spill on your ass cheeks.

You stayed still until he moved behind you to grab some tissues and began cleaning up the mess that the both of you had made. Once the top of your dress was back in place, you turned around and Terry placed his hands on either side of you.

“Are you going to give me back my underwear?” You asked as you soothed out the creases of his t-shirt.

“Nah, those are mine now. Need something to remember you by.”

“Stick around and you won’t need a token reminder.”

“Yeah.” He dragged out the word as if he was thinking. “I think I’ll be sticking around a little longer.” He murmured, licking his lips before he reached forward. But just as he was about to kiss you once more, knock came to the bathroom door.

Your breath ceased in your throat.

“Aye Terry! You okay in there?” The voice of your brother came through which forced your eyes shut as you tried to keep still.

“Yeah, I’m alright. I was just taking some time alone. I’ll be out in a minute.” Trey quickly responded.

“Cool. Have you seen my sister? She just disappeared.”

“Um, on my way in I saw her walking somewhere with her phone. It looked pretty urgent.”

“Probably that new guy that has her nose in her phone lately.” Your brother said. You had to bite your lip to stop the laughter that wanted to come out. “See you out there.”

“Aight man. See you out there.”

Once your brother moved away from the door, the laugh that had been trapped within your throat spilled out.

“So, I had you smiling down at your phone huh?” Terry asked with a smirk of confidence on his face which caused you to roll your eyes playfully and you pushed him away by his shoulder.

“You’re not that funny.” You mumbled trying not to boost his ego even further. Losing your control and pulling him into the bathroom at a barbecue was already enough for his pride.

————————————————

if you’re not on the list, I couldn’t tag you 💔

reading list: @melodicheauxxlovesfood @saintslewis @cocobutterqwueen @blowmymbackout @mochachocolatteyaya @greedyjudge2 @miyuhpapayuh @melaninpov @pickingupmymercedes @lewisroscoelove @kindan3rdy951 @elyseesarchive @sl33p-deprived-princess @soiguessimtheshit @acidlv @kriegertops @ermlolol @theogbadbitch @trinitoldyouso @ethereal555 @astrorainbow @jazziejax @laylaynaynay130 @khalaaylah @plan666 @crissrou @cookiecutterzers56 @cameroncrazie13 @shescatrinaxo @efefrf @wvvkndvibez @st4rgirliesstuff @gwenda-fav @fineanddandy @planetblaque @deja-r @kiraonthegooo @apimp-named-slickback @playgurlxoxo @gojosbabyma @heytaewrites @leilaxaliel @dyttomori @tasteofmyrainboe @livvy-lovess @violetmuses @jeanellepatrice @kaisage45

[theereina]

Big Mama Pt. 1

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Plus Size Fem Black!OC

Wordcount: 1,462

Warnings: MDNI (18+) mature content, such as cursing, teasing, no smut (alluding to sexual situations), heavily dialogue-centered, use of Daddy, Mama, and other pet names (lil' mama, pretty girl, etc.)

A/N: I literally haven't written in years. I'm open to critiques. I am a little 🤏🏽 sensitive about my writing. Please, don't be too harsh.🥺 Feel free to bring my attention to any typos. Divider by @firefly-graphics. Also, this work is not to be plagiarized or reposted (on any site other than here on Tumblr). I do NOT give consent for any form of republishing or rewriting.

PART 2 => 🦋

"You look like you bite," I said looking at him directly in his eyes. They were a greenish-hazel color that resembled fallen leaves. Nothing about this man's appearance was hard on the eyes. His face, his eyes, his lips, his body, and even his smile were driving me silently insane. His presence was intimidating yet inviting. An aura surrounded this man that demanded attention and took up space.

He stared back at me with a challenge brewing in his eyes. "I do, but only if you want me to. I promise," he said not even hiding his smirk. All I could do was stare at this smug bastard. I knew that he knew the effect he was having on me. If he couldn't see it on my face, the heat from my body was evidence enough. I was getting hotter by the second.

"Mhmm," I said while turning away. I honestly just wanted to see what he would do. I couldn't let this man see me fold this quickly. I wasn't retreating; it's just that I needed a moment to promptly gather myself. I was fucking losing it. We hadn't even spoken three sentences, and I was already struggling to think. I was normally a quick-witted smartass with a lot to say. Everything about this man was short-circuiting my brain, and I didn't like one bit of it.

"Where you going? C'mere, lil' mama," he teased. The way that man's voice had me in a chokehold. It was thick, heavy, and warm like raw honey. All I could do was smile. I paused and turned back to face him. "Why would I come to you when I'm the meal? If you want it, come get it," I said motioning for him to come here. Now, why the fuck did I do that?

"Meal? I'd prefer it if you were dessert. Daddy's got a sweet tooth," he said striding towards me. He was closing in on the space that I was using for comfort. I felt like I was melting in the spot I stood in. I had to think about my next move. I had to do something. I took a breath and relaxed as much as I could before speaking. The last thing I wanted to do was show this man that I was a nervous fucking wreck. "Well, I guess it's a good thing Mama's a baker," I said while winking up at him. At this point, there was no space between us. We were chest to chest, and I could feel every rise and fall between us.

There was no turning back now. The smile that this man wore from what I said had me blushing. I couldn't cover it up even if I tried. Clearly, I had lost this battle, but I would try my fucking hardest to win the war.

We were way past the point of this being friendly or casual banter. The sexual tension was heavy between us, and I had some shit to prove. He reached up and gently caressed my chin. Breaking me from my trance as he spoke, "Focus, mama. Where your head at, pretty girl?" His smile was now even more intense and sinister. It was as if he was feeding off of my nervousness. Was he getting off on watching me react like this? A devil, I tell you.

At this point, all I could say to myself was "fight back, bitch".

"Just thinking," I said looking up at him. I was struggling to keep my composure. I bit my lip to hide the anxious smile I was fighting. He said nothing as his eyes dropped to watch my movements. His eyes flowed from my lip to my body and back up to my eyes again.

Antsy and nervous, I began to rock on my heels shyly. My facade was beginning to break, and I was crumbling by the second. "Uh oh. Is all that big girl energy fading away?" he asked slowly using his thumb to stroke my cheek. "Big girl energy? I'm a grown woman." I snapped back. I instantly dropped my eyes in regret. "Oouu, there she goes," he said raising one of his eyebrows. This man was taking me for a joke, and my dumbass was letting him.

I raised my head to meet his eyes again. "You don't take shit I say seriously. Do you,... Um... Wait, I never got your name," I stated while watching him and waiting for a response. "Yes, you did. I told you what it was. You don't remember? Huh, pretty girl?" he questioned gathering my hand in his. He held my hand while I struggled to remember if this man ever said his name. I couldn't recall him ever saying a name at all. I, for sure, would have remembered replying with mine if he did. Was I that dumbstruck by this man? Did he have me forgetting portions of this conversation?

Then, it hit me. He said a name, but there was no way in hell that he wanted me to call him that. Right? Did he really want me to call him "DADDY"? I couldn't call a man that, especially a man that I just met. This had to be a joke. I was pulled from my thoughts by feeling his hand cupping my chin. He raised my face upwards to meet his gaze. Those striking eyes were piercing down into mine, and I could almost swear his eyes had darkened to bronze.

The growing intensity of his gaze and the faint grip he held on my chin indicated that he was awaiting an answer. "Something tells me you know exactly what my name is. You just don't want to say it. It's okay. I'll get it out of you one way or another, lil' mama," he said laughing. "And how are you going to do that?" I asked raising my hands to play with the lower hem of his plain t-shirt. "Don't worry. It doesn't matter if I got chu yellin' it, screamin' it, whisperin' it, crying' it. As long as I got chu sayin' it, I did my job," he said leaning in closer.

I could feel the warmth of every breath he took on my neck. The heat from that alone was like a smoke signal. I refused to fall prey to my own desperation, but my brain and pussy were now working against each other. I desired to feel every part of this man in EVERY capacity. I needed a closer connection, so I used the hem of his shirt to softly pull him in closer. I wouldn't dare fold that fucking easily. Not like this.

*FIGHT BACK!*

The wheels were now turning in my head, and my brain was in overdrive. I had to finish what I started. He was right about one thing. I WAS A "BIG GIRL". A woman whose thighs destroyed jeans on the regular and who could talk a lot of shit but wasn't going to take much of it. I had to get him while he was close enough to feel it.

"And what job might that be? Huh,....Daddy?" I asked while trailing my hand up his chest to rest on his shoulder. "Mmmm..." he said taking a deep breath. GOT HIM! He removed his hand that was resting on my chin and rubbed the back of his neck. "What? Did I say something wrong?" I asked sheepishly. I was proudly smirking at this point. "Nah. You said everything right," he said smiling back at me.

I decided to take it up a notch. What was the harm in having a little fun? We were only talking after all. I couldn't believe I was feeding into this, but fuck it. "So, does that make me a good girl?" I asked stroking my hand along the back of his neck awaiting an answer.

I could feel the shift in his energy. Desire overtook his eyes. His playfulness had turned primal. "Are you?" he asked tilting his head while watching me. "What's the fun in tellin' you when I could just show you?" I replied as I stilled my hand to rest on his neck. He caught my hand and brought it to rest at his lips. He placed small kisses on the back of my hand. His eyes never left mine. "I guess that settles it, lil' mama. You busy tonight? I think I might have something fun for us to do," he asked smugly.

I knew exactly what this man meant, and I was going to enjoy every minute of it. I just hope he can keep up because...

"Big Mama don't fold, and Big Mama don't quit. If you stay awhile, she'll show you some shit."

Taglist: @avoidthings @brattyfics @5headsupremacist @creartivefairy