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megamindsecretlair · 3 days ago

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Hiii girl! Can I make a request for a prequel to I swear I’ll never leave? Something super angsty on how y/n and Terry got to that point in the first place🤍

I Still Don't Want You To Go

Pairing: Toxic Baby Daddy!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. ANGST, cursing, teasing, mentions of loneliness, depression, brief mention of harm against a child, bad ass child, all consensual. Sorry if I missed some, my mom is distracting me.

Summary: A prequel to “I Swear I’ll Never Leave”. Four months ago, things came to a head for you, the loneliness getting too loud for you to ignore. You wanted your husband home, safe and sound with you. As you reminisce about the good times, it’s the bad times you can’t get over. And though your timing sucks, you have to finally tell Terry what’s really on your heart.

Word Count: 7,801k

AO3 Link | I Swear I'll Never Leave

A/N: WHEW. When I say this hurt MEEE. I'm exposing myself like a MF LOL. I see you sneaky anon, a prequel request. I'd love to know your thoughts on the angst, I wanna get better at it. Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment, gif, or unhinged ask.

Six years ago…

“Lovely Day” by Bill Withers crooned from your portable speaker on the marble countertop. The smell of meatloaf and mashed potatoes filled the kitchen, steam rising from the pot on the stove. You were working on the gravy, tasting as you went. Cadence kicked in your belly and you stopped to place a hand there.

“Alright babygirl, we almost there. You are so impatient already,” you said to her, rubbing your belly. You had a few months left to go but she was already kicking to get out. You’d have to put her in track or soccer or something. She’d run you ragged if you weren’t careful.

“How’s my two favorite girls?” Terry entered the room, following the scent of food.

You giggled. “You always know when the food is done!” You shrieked with laughter as Terry encircled your waist, pulling you back against his chest. He placed his hands on either side of your protruding belly.

“Can’t help it when I smell a snack,” he said, kissing your cheek.

You sighed at his corny joke but giggled anyway. “You get on my nerves,” you said with a shake of your head. This man of yours.

“I love you too. Time to eat?” He asked.

You craned your neck to look over your shoulder at him. He grinned, catching your eye, and then kissed your cheek once more. “You can’t be that hungry,” you said.

“For your famous meatloaf? Hell yeah, I’m that hungry,” he said. He swayed with you to the music and you closed your eyes, taking it all in.

“Didn’t you just eat like…?”

“That was my pre-dinner food. This is dinner. I got room,” he said.

You shook your head. Thank goodness you weren’t having a boy. You didn’t know what the hell you would do if you had two of them running around, eating you out of house and home. You were barely keeping up with Terry and his voracious appetite when he was home.

“You can’t possibly eat like this on base,” you said.

“I can pack away some food. But hmm, ain’t nothing better than being home,” he said.

“I worry about you. Help me with the meatloaf please,” you said.

“I need a kiss first,” he said.

You sighed and craned your neck to kiss his cheek. He shook his head, releasing you long enough to turn you around.

“A real kiss,” he said, suddenly turning serious. He furrowed his eyebrows as he leaned down, capturing your lips with his.

It felt like he was trying to tell you something with the kiss, but you weren’t sure what. He held onto you, gripping your waist as if you were the lone anchor and he had been out at sea for weeks.

You leaned back and looked at him. “Terry? Everything okay?”

&&&

Four months ago…

“Everything okay?” Terry asked.

“Huh?” You turned your attention back to him. Cadence fidgeted in your lap. You sighed and righted her once more so that she could look at the screen at her daddy. He was on base and you were talking to him on video chat, trying to make it a nightly thing for Cadence’s sake, but it was getting tougher.

She had sunk into her terrible six’s, getting impatient the minute she didn’t get her way. You blamed Terry of course. Spoiling the damn child and making it seem like you were the bad parent, always saying no and doing nothing fun.

“I’m just tired, Terry,” you sighed. You smiled, despite it all, but even that was getting exhausting. You were cranky, irritable, and at your wit’s fucking end.

Terry’s eyebrows furrowed but he took you at your word. Cadence flopped in your arm like she was over the whole thing. You corrected her again, holding down her arms and legs so she’d sit still.

She began to whine, paying attention to anything but her daddy. “When are you coming home?” Cadence asked, suddenly switching gears and leaning far into the camera.

“I’m not sure yet, baby. But I hope it’s soon,” he said.

“Will you be here for Mustard’s birthday?” She asked. Mustard, being her imaginary friend. She babbled endlessly to the mysterious Mustard who was usually to blame when Cadence acted out.

“I don’t know if I can, baby,” he said.

Cadence groaned, flopping into your arms once more. Ugh. You finally picked her up and set her down. She began to cry, trying to climb back onto you. “Aht aht, you’re acting out because your Daddy isn’t here. And you know better,” you said.

Cadence cried harder, fighting to get back in your lap. You looked at Terry. “I’ll call you back,” you said. You slammed the laptop shut without even hearing his reply. You were tired and fucking over it.

Cadence turned her cries into a full blown temper tantrum, stomping her feet and jumping up and down. You stared at the little devil and for a split second, just a split, you pictured tossing her ass out through the window. Fuck. That was an evil thought.

“Cadence. You have three seconds to stop and use your words. Acting like a damn barn animal,” you said, sucking your teeth.

Cadence continued to cry and stomp, falling onto the floor and screaming at the top of her lungs. You stared at her. At your wild, beautiful, terror of a daughter. You couldn’t scream. Screaming would only feed into whatever this fucking phase was. Screaming would turn you into your own mother, who forced you into a box when you were younger. Only to be seen and never heard.

You didn’t have the greatest relationship with your mother. You wanted a mom and she raised you to be the mother she never had. She thought you were the best of friends when you just wanted to escape. Be free from her constant judgement and disappointment.

You stared at your child as she screamed bloody murder and you didn’t know what to do. Terry didn’t have much family that you could turn to. There was Mike, but Mike was young. Mike didn’t need the responsibility of looking after his niece like that. He should be out and enjoying being young and free. There was your best friend Gianna, but she had her own life to live.

Cadence’s wails were like nails on chalkboard, making your brain itch in places you couldn’t reach. Great, heaving sobs trapped in your chest and you held it in. Held in the anger. Held in the frustration. You were a bad fucking mother and you didn’t know how to fix this. The only one who could was a few states away, off on base doing who knew what.

You stared. You hurt. You stared. She cried.

Cadence flopped on the floor, crocodile tears streaming down her face. “Cadence, off the floor. Now,” you said as calmly, voice ready to wobble but you kept on a brave face.

Cadence ignored you, flipped onto her stomach, and then kicked at the floor in her footie pajamas. You stared. And stared. You felt absolutely drained. Like there was nothing left inside of you to keep going. Keep moving. Keep doing this shit day in and day out.

But she was yours. You would not abandon her. She may grow up to hate your guts, never speak to you again like you barely did with your own mother, but dammit, you weren’t going to yell and scream at a child who didn’t truly understand the world yet.

You left Cadence on the ground to scream and yell while you went to your room to collect laundry. Let her fucking yell and scream. Maybe it’d tire her little behind out.

You grabbed the laundry basket from your room, picking up wayward clothes that needed to be washed. The famous chair was overfilled with clothes and Terry’s robe. An ache formed behind your eye, growing worse the more Cadence screamed. Cadence jogged into the room, rubbing the back of her eyes with her hand.

She continued to cry and scream and you turned to her. She looked at you and sat on the ground, snot running down her face. “Are you ready to use your words?” You asked.

She shook her head. “Then you sit there until you are,” you said. You scooted past her to her room to collect her dirty clothes. She followed you, continuing to cry her eyes out.

“So now you don’t listen to Mommy?” You asked.

Her cries turned to sniffling and hiccuping. She finally caught on that you weren’t going to feed into her nonsense. “No,” she hiccuped.

“No? You don’t listen to Mommy?” You asked.

“I do listen!” She yelled.

You tilted your head and gave her The Look. She rubbed her eyes with her hand and then walked closer, putting her head on your leg. “Where’s Daddy?” She asked.

“Daddy’s at work. You know that,” you said. You placed the basket on her pink princess bed and then dropped down to her level. You grabbed one of her hands and helped wipe her face.

“I didn’t raise you to act out. You have a voice and you have to learn to use it,” you said, tears threatening to spill down your face. How could you make her see how important it was to use her words? To use what so many people took for granted?

She was still too young to understand the nuances of being Black and a little girl. Your mother silenced your voice when you were younger. Placing the burden of being alive on you and not on her for not swallowing you instead of giving birth. You didn’t want that for Cadence. Didn’t want her to grow up, mincing her words, swallowing it all down, chest caving in whenever there was confrontation.

You wanted her to be strong. Full of life. Everything you weren’t. You blinked away the hot, itchy tears and smiled at her.

“I miss Daddy,” she said. “I don’t want to see him on the ‘puter.”

You sighed. You figured as much. But there wasn’t anything you could do about it now. He had a good job providing for you and Cadence. Maybe it would’ve been easier if he was a deadbeat. It would be easier to ignore the growing ache in your heart, missing him at home with you and Cadence.

“I miss Daddy too. But you can’t throw a tantrum whenever you don’t get your way. That’s not how young ladies act. And your Daddy would be very hurt to know you’re acting up,” you said.

“I’m sorry, Mommy,” she said. She hugged you and you hugged her back. God, you needed this shit to end. This constant need to cry or yell or scream yourself. You weren’t a child anymore. You didn’t have the luxury of flopping on the floor whenever you were overwhelmed.

“Thank you, baby. Go wash your face and get ready for bed,” you said. You released her and then popped her on the butt to get a move on. She giggled, jogging out of the room and headed to the bathroom.

“With soap!” You called out. Cadence giggled like that thought hadn’t even crossed her mind. You shook your head and continued grabbing her dirty clothes off the floor. You seriously had to teach that little girl to pick up after herself better. It was like once Terry was out of the house, she lost all pieces of her marbles.

You could relate. You distracted yourself with picking up her toys, crayons, and coloring books off of the floor and back into its proper places. You grabbed the laundry basket and left her room.

“Daddy says he may not make your birthday, Mustard. But that’s okay! We’ll take sooooooooo many pictures for him!” Cadence chattered on and on to her little friend.

You shouldn’t be…worried, right? Your daughter had friends but she only saw them at school. The other parents constantly asked you about playdates but you had so much to do between your own work, the house, and getting Cadence together, that you didn’t have it in you to take her for playdates.

You didn’t trust her with anyone else and you didn’t have time to sit and hang out with the mommies while they all gushed about their husbands. Gahh. The whole thing made you sick. They always managed to feel sorry for you. But always thanked your husband for his service.

Whatever. Fuck the service. Fuck the government. Fuck America and its bullshit. You wanted your husband at home. You wanted to crawl into bed and have him wrap his arms around you. If you knew that you’d be this damn lonely in marriage, you would have saved yourself the hassle.

You loved Cadence with everything in you. But it was never in your plans to raise her with no help. And it wasn’t fair on Terry. He was doing what he needed to do. But…you were tired of feeling like the bad guy when all you wanted was someone to hold you at night.

You finished up gathering today’s laundry and placed it in the laundry room. You tucked Cadence and Mustard into her bed, sitting down to read her a story while she drifted off to sleep.

You had a pounding headache from all her screaming and the unshed tears. But you sat for a while longer and prayed over your baby. Prayed she never ended up like you. Prayed she knew nothing but joy and love and how to reach out to people.

You were half alone, with one friend, and no family to help you. It was you, Terry, Gianna, Mike, and Cadence against the world. What a fucking family you all made.

You stood up and left the room and turned off the light. You left her door cracked and then made your way through the house, turning off lights, and running through a mental checklist of everything you had left to do tomorrow.

Making it to your room, you closed the door and flopped onto your cold, lifeless bed with a heavy sigh. You pulled the nearest pillow towards you and snuggled into it. Fuck. And you had to wake up and do it all over again.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

Tears immediately welled in your eyes like it had just been waiting for you to be alone. You let the tears fall. Let your face get hot and puffy as you curled into a ball and cried. Your sniffling was muffled by the pillow.

You let it all out. The frustration from not being good enough for Cadence. The guilt over your disgusting thoughts about harming her. The loneliness from not having your husband there, beside you. Call you a weak ass bitch or whatever, but you just wanted your man home.

You cried over stupid shit, like spilling your coffee at work. Washing everything in the laundry but finding that one random sock that managed to miss the load. Watching Cadence play with Mustard and seeing Terry written all over her face. You curled into yourself harder and cried and cried, letting every last bit of it out.

You didn’t have enough strength when it was all over to clean your own face. So you flipped the pillow to a clean side and promptly went to sleep.

&&&

Six years ago…

You paced the length of the hallway in the hospital, trying to breathe through the pain. For all of Cadence’s kicks and tumbling, she sure as shit didn’t want to come out now. Your mother walked with you up and down the hallway, trying to tell you how to birth a child.

You held back whatever you wanted to say and rubbed your lower back. Fuuuuuck, this shit was painful. You were never doing this again. Fuck this. How did people have multiple kids? How did they birth a basketball team like it was nothing?

It felt like your insides were being scooped out with a rusty spoon. You stopped and leaned on the wall nearest you. “It’s gon’ be okay. Your body knows what to do,” your mom said.

You wanted to tell her to fuck off. So what if your body knew what to do? You didn’t. This was your first child and it was looking to be your only child. You couldn’t do this shit no more. And you sure as shit didn’t want to do it without Terry there.

Going through the last few months without him was bullshit. No one there to rub your feet or run errands when you were craving something stupid like ice cream and gummy worms. No one there to hold your hand when your panic over being a bad mom got too loud, too close to home, and you were spiraling.

But…you did it. You got through it. You could continue on. “Terry really ought to be here for this. I can’t believe he’s gonna miss the birth of his own child,” your mom complained.

“It’s not like he has a choice, mom,” you said, careful to watch your tone. Your mom never missed an opportunity to remind you that she was older and could still pop you in the mouth for being disrespectful.

“Don’t they have leave or something?” Your mom continued.

Can’t you fucking leave? You wanted to scream at her. You’d rather do this shit alone if all she was going to do was remind you that your husband would not be there. Would not be there to hear your child’s first cries.

You had planned and gushed over your baby together. You had theories on top of theories of who she’d favor more, what kind of personality she would develop, and what kind of life she would lead. He should be here.

Tears pricked your eyes but you beat them back. You had a job to do and it involved seeing this baby safely delivered. “I’m tired, mom,” you said.

“I know, baby. One more lap and then we’ll go sit for a minute,” she said. She grabbed your hand and your eyes ached from trying to hold back the tears. Sometimes your mom showed a bit of affection and like a kicked dog, you soaked it up. You reveled in the simple gesture, knowing that at any moment, her claws would come back out.

Squeaking tile made you turn your head. Terry leaned forward, the inertia from running making him rock on his heels. You locked eyes with him.

“Terry!” You yelled.

Terry power walked down the hallway dressed in his fatigues. He was clean shaven since he was on base and he looked so damn scrumptious you wanted to gobble him up then and there. He smiled as he approached, carefully taking your hand out of your mother’s.

“I knew you’d find a way to make it,” your mom said, patting Terry on the shoulder. “Otherwise I’d have talked shit.”

“Mom!” You said.

Terry chuckled. “I wouldn’t miss this for the world,” Terry said. He grinned as he cupped your face. “How you feeling?”

“Better, now that you’re here,” you said.

Terry kissed your forehead and then grabbed your hand. With him by your side, it wasn’t so bad. You could get through it. You could do this. Still hurt like a motherfucker. Wait…You wailed as you held your stomach, feeling a contraction come on and ruin everything.

You gripped Terry’s hand with all the strength you could muster as you rode out the pain. You huffed and puffed as you calmed down from the intensity. You turned a side eye to Terry. ��You’re never doing this to me again,” you said, your voice rough from wailing.

Terry had the good sense not to look dumb. He smiled sheepishly and rubbed the back of his head. “Had fun making her though,” he said with a wink.

You groaned and rolled your eyes. “Nasty ass. Just like a man to enjoy all the benefits with none of the work,” you said.

Terry guided you back to your room. He walked slowly with you though his long legs could cover the distance in two seconds. “I wouldn’t say none of the work. I seem to recall you loudly begging –”

“Begging?!”

“Beggin’ me not to stop,” Terry said.

You chuckled and winced as it disrupted whatever the fuck Cadence was doing in your belly. Lord, you needed this child out neow.

Terry stayed with you every step of the way. He held your hand when you needed it and got lost when you cursed him ten ways from Sunday. He was there to make sure the doctors and nurses gave you what you needed, ensuring that your voice was heard and your concerns were met.

And when little Cadence Richmond came screaming into the world, Terry was right there grinning and laughing and kissing your forehead. “She’s fuckin’ beautiful. She’s so fucking beautiful,” he whispered against your temple. “You did so good, beautiful.”

&&&

“I can’t do this anymore, G,” you said, picking at the grass in your backyard.

Cadence jogged around the backyard with Mustard, running back and forth and screaming with laughter. That girl had a set of pipes. But it was a happy scream and you’d take that over anything else.

Your best friend, Gianna, flipped her locs over her shoulder and leaned back on her hands. “Do what?” She asked.

“Spend my life waiting for a man that don’t wanna come home,” you said. You looked down at the blade of grass and let the melancholy thoughts run wild. You knew your brain was a big, fat, ugly liar but sometimes that motherfucker made sense.

Terry went into the service to take care of you and Cadence when you were still two kids who didn’t know better. Now that Cadence was six, what was Terry doing? Why continue to stay on base?

The only logical answer was that he didn’t want to come home. He didn’t want to be here to help you. After years of practically living apart, the weight of your decisions made your head heavy.

What would’ve happened if you had joined him on base? Once it was proven that he wasn’t going to hop from state to state, or country to country, you could have joined him. But the thought of being a “military wife” tasted like sand in your mouth. You didn’t want to trade in a normal life for whatever the hell that was. You didn’t want Cadence to grow up coddled from the world.

No one was going to protect her because the world didn’t protect little Black girls. You didn’t want her to grow up with rose-colored glasses, thinking the world began and ended at the base. You wanted her strong but soft. Capable of taking care of herself but not hiding behind a steel wall all the time.

“Girl, you know that man loves you and Cadence. Have you talked to him at all?” Gianna asked. She shielded her eyes from the sun to look at Cadence doing cartwheels.

“Every time I try to, I get so choked up I can’t speak. And I don’t want him to see how much I’m struggling,” you said.

“He’s your husband. He’s supposed to see your struggle,” Gianna said. She leaned forward and looked at you. You felt her assessing gaze as if she was trying to see past your words. But there was nothing to see past.

Day by day, it became clearer that you no longer spoke the same language as your husband. He became a stranger before your eyes and you hadn’t noticed. Or had you not cared? You loved him still. You were very much still in love with him. But you weren’t going to hold him back.

The next time Terry came home, you were going to talk to him. Truly talk. And let him know that you weren’t going to hold him to a marriage he didn’t want to be in. Just thinking it turned your stomach sour. You didn’t want to let him go, didn’t want some other woman to get her claws in him. Didn’t want to “co-parent” with some chicken head with fake boobs.

You sure as shit didn’t want to see him kissing all over some other woman. Or have him create more children with someone else. But what was the alternative? Spend the rest of your life in a state of limbo. Longingly looking down the quiet street for a car that was never going to pull up?

The whole thing made you sick to your stomach. You didn’t know what you were going to do. But you knew this was your rock bottom. You couldn’t stand it another second.

“The other day, Cadence showed her entire ass screaming and all I could think was, I can’t do this anymore. I can’t half parent her. Not when he hangs the moon and I’m the monster under her bed,” you said.

“Where is this coming from? Why didn’t you call me?” Gianna took your hand in hers and shifted towards you.

“I thought I could handle it, is all,” you said and shrugged. Cadence was your child. Why should you pass the buck to someone else just to get a break? A break from your own child. That was your mom’s MO. She had to distract you in order for you to leave her alone. And now you were doing the same thing to your kid.

You were a mess and you were drowning. You were so far underwater there was no more light above you. And your light was a few states away toiling away at a job he loved more than you.

“Mommy! Auntie Gigi, loooook!” Cadence said, trying to turn a cartwheel into a flip but only flopped onto her butt.

“You be careful out there, little girl! But great job!” You said.

She got up and dusted herself off, nodding to herself. Then she kept practicing, falling over and over. But she kept getting up. You hoped she continued as she got older.

“You better talk to that man, you know he not gon’ like this,” Gianna said.

You squeezed her hand. Yeah. Yeah, that was putting it nicely.

&&&

Three years ago…

You sat down on the brown couch with a deep sigh. Terry chuckled and hummed tiredly, reaching his arm down from over the couch to pull you closer.

“You sound how I feel,” he said. Light from the TV splayed across his handsome face, a mix of colors dancing across his features. It was too dark in the living room to see his storm-blue eyes but you saw enough.

“That girl, I swear. I don’t know what kinda DNA you got swimming, but that is your child,” you said. You shifted until you were tucked protectively under his arm and against his chest. His heart thumped against your cheek and you closed your eyes briefly. Still your favorite song in the whole world.

“Nah, anything after seven is your baby. You never go to sleep on time,” he said.

“Yes, I do. Sometimes,” you said.

“What time you go to bed last night?” He asked. His thumb traced lazy patterns on your shoulder. The sound was muted on the TV but you looked at the picture. He was in the middle of some old movie from the 60s.

“That is beside the point,” you said, remembering that you didn’t go to bed until 2am. The night just made more sense to you to be awake. Day time was a burden and a half.

Terry chuckled and shook his head. “I can’t believe we got her down. When is she going to grow out of her terrible fours?” He asked.

“I don’t know. I thought we were tiring her out. That wasn’t even her final form,” you said and groaned.

“I have a crazy thought,” he said.

“Mhm, what’s that?” You asked.

“What if we had another?” He asked.

You leaned away from him to look him in the face. He looked back at you with no change in his expression. He was serious. Like really serious. You leaned up further and faced him. “After today, you want another one?” You asked.

Cadence had been more than a handful lately. Since her Daddy came home, she had run him ragged taking up all his free time. She wanted to play princess or go for a horseback ride. She wanted to run around the backyard with him and push her stuffed teddies on the small swing set he built for her.

She wanted to lay down with him for her nap and yes, he had to climb under the Bluey blanket with her whether he fit or not. You did snap a thousand pictures and giggled to yourself while you got to some household chores.

After the nap, he had to watch TV with her. And he had to play dolls while he did so, non-negotiable. Then, for no reason at all, she ripped off her clothes and went streaking through the house. You two nearly gave up trying to chase her around.

Terry finally managed it and gave her a bath while you finally went to lay down. Goodness knew you needed it. Terry indulged in every little whim of Cadence’s and you told him often that he was doing nothing but spoiling her rotten.

“I know, but I can’t help it. She got me wrapped around her tiny finger. I miss so much,” he had said when you told him.

And now he wanted another?

“Yeah, before she gets too big. She could use a buddy. Our family is so small,” he said. His smooth voice trailed off, getting lost in thought as he stared at the TV. You wondered if he was even seeing it. Or if he was lost in a thought or a memory.

You cupped his cheek and caressed it with your thumb. “But are you sure?” You asked. Unlike Terry, you remembered what it was like trying to carry the child alone. You had no choice but to endure and handle it if Terry was gone during this pregnancy too. But sometimes, you got the sinking feeling that he was always looking for a way out and he just didn’t know how to tell you.

“You and Cadence mean absolutely everything to me. Yes, I’m sure,” he said. He smirked and bumped your shoulder.

“Remember all the fun we had making Cadence?” He pulled you closer and nuzzled your cheek with his nose. You held firm, refusing to give in to his charms. You were not going down that easy. You refused. Absolutely refused.

“I must’ve turned your little world. You stay bringing that up,” you said, pushing him away.

Terry held firm, moving his nose down to your neck and inhaling. He hummed, low and deep in his chest causing it to rumble. The sound carried up and down your spine, sending electric shocks through your brain. “Been waiting for you to do that shit again,” he said.

You giggled and leaned away. He followed and wrapped his arms around your waist. “Lemme give you a baby,” he said.

You laughed and shook your head. “You are out of your mind,” you said.

“You know you wanna be swollen with my baby again,” he said. He moved his hand to your shirt and searched beneath it, rubbing his fingers along your skin. You sighed with a moan, shifting your body closer. He was a cheating ass nigga.

“You get on my nerves,” you said. You feebly pushed at his chest but he was a mountain. Too immoveable. He grinned against your neck and then kissed it, his lingering lips sending pulses of heat straight to your pussy.

“You just wanna cum all up in this again. Admit it,” you said, giggling.

“I admit it. I confess. I am guilty,” he whispered against your neck.

You managed to giggle and moan at the same time, your brain in full on mush mode. There was nothing but the feeling of his hands on your tummy. He didn’t venture anywhere else, just ran the rough pads of his fingers against your skin.

It was more than enough. You pushed into him, needing more but not willing to say it. You couldn’t utter a single sound so you talked with your body. The only language you and Terry spoke well.

“Use your big girl words,” he said.

“You get on my nerves!” You said.

Terry smiled against your skin. “I love you too,” he said.

&&&

Four months ago…

“DADDDDDYYYYYYYY!” Cadence’s scream was loud enough to wake the dead ten towns over. As soon as Terry stomped into the house, light shining behind him, Cadence was on him like white on rice.

She launched herself into his arms and he had to kneel or get ran over. He scooped her up into his arms and hugged her tight. “How’s my babygirl?” He asked. He kissed her head and leaned back to look at her face.

His eyes softened as she talked a mile a minute, telling him every thought that came out of her head. Terry fixed her purple flowered shirt while she spoke. He nodded and asked her questions as he set his duffel bag down and closed the door behind him.

You stood off to the side, feeling like a sack of meat for all the enthusiasm Cadence showed you. You shouldn’t be jealous and well…no one said you had to be rational all of the time.

You stood rooted to the spot, knowing that whatever came next was going to hurt. It was going to break you. And yet it would shatter you if you didn’t.

Terry kept throwing glances your way like he knew something was up but couldn’t pinpoint what. He squinted at you and still paid attention to Cadence’s stream of consciousness.

“And then Mustard said that I was a booger, but that’s not true because boogers are green and I’m not green,” Cadence said.

“You tell Mustard to be nicer to you,” Terry said. He walked over to you and dropped a kiss to your forehead. His large palm cupped the back of your neck and he held his lips to your head. You closed your eyes and breathed in his uniquely manly scent.

“Welcome home,” you whispered. You leaned back and looked at him. He tilted his head and massaged the back of your neck. Your shoulders drooped as he rubbed, all ounces of tension leaving your body.

Why couldn’t he make this easier? It was just like your stupid heart to plum forget the past few months he was on base. You never could stand on business. Not with your mom and not with Terry. It was a curse, it truly was.

You and Terry fell into an unspoken truce while Cadence soaked up having her Daddy home. You spent most of the time in the living room, talking, laughing, and telling Terry about everything he missed. Everything you didn’t get to discuss over the computer.

Terry had to know something was up. He kept reaching out to you but you found ways to dodge or get up to do something. You weren’t trying to be a bitch. But you didn’t want to fall into his arms if he was only going to hate you later.

It’d be easier to stomach his hate and anger if you didn’t have his lingering touch on your skin. So you continued to move and fawn and shake him off anyway you could.

Cadence had to have Terry read her the bedtime story, not asking for you once. Not throwing a tantrum once. Not even a sniffle. Little booger.

You made some tea in the kitchen while Terry stayed with Cadence until she truly fell asleep. If she sensed Terry moving a muscle, she’d wake up groggily and ask for him. You waited at the dining table with a steaming mug of tea nestled between your palms but you swore you felt none of the heat.

Terry shuffled into the kitchen and sighed as he sat down in the chair. He looked so ragged. But beautiful as always. Loving Terry was like loving a precious jewel. It hurt to look at but it hurt worse to look away.

He leaned one arm on the table and leveled you with a stare. “What’s up with you?” He asked.

You took a deep breath and stared at your mug. “I have to talk to you about something important. And I didn’t want to get in the way of Cadence seeing you,” you said.

“What’s going on? Just tell me,” he said.

“I don’t want to be a single mother anymore,” you said. You held up your hand as Terry pitched forward, confusion twisting his features. “You’re an amazing father, Terry. But…I want my husband home. And I won’t make you choose between the Corps and me.”

“That’s not even a choice,” he said. You held up your hand again before he could continue to argue. Yes, it was a choice. He clearly loved what he did. And you knew he loved Cadence. But you were feeling pretty fucking unloved. You knew it wasn’t intentional on his part. You knew that if you just told him what’s up, he’d do everything in his power to make it up to you.

But you were terrified that he’d wake up one day and resent you for making him quit while he was ahead. You wouldn’t survive that.

“This isn’t something new for me. And I know it feels out of left field, but I think I’ve been feeling like this since we had Cadence. I kept waiting for you to say enough is enough and you’d resign from the service and come home. I kept waiting for you to make that decision but you never did. You kept going and going and going.”

“I did it for us. So that you and Cadence were taken care of,” he said.

“I know. Baby, I know,” you said. You gripped the mug hard enough to break it. The heat singed your palms but you let it. Your heart thumped too fast, stealing your breath. You vibrated with nervous energy, stomach twisting into painful knots.

You hated that confrontation made it seem like your insides wanted to crawl out of your skin. You hated the sinking feeling that you were hurting someone even though you were hurting too. You hated that your voice shook and tears threatened to fall.

“But you’re not here all the time. You don’t see that Cadence can be a fucking nightmare sometimes and it’s just me. I never thought it’d be just me when I had a family. I thought I’d have my husband with me. And I’m tired of feeling like a weak ass bitch for wanting that.

“And I get lonely. And sad. And tired. And I keep thinking that you’re not here. You’re off taking care of us and how can I be mad at you for that? But I am. I can’t stand it. I’m at my fucking limit, Terry, and I can’t keep going back and forth between hoping you came home and thinking it’d be easier if you didn’t.

“I won’t make you choose. Because I love you too fucking much,” you said. The tears came anyway, streaming down your face. Ugh. Now you were crying and he’d think you were manipulating him. It was the last thing you wanted him to think.

“You love me but you’re trying to leave me? This is fucking insane,” he said. He pushed away from the table and you nodded, looking back down at your mug. It was insane. You were definitely insane.

He paced the length of the kitchen, hands on his hips as he shook his head. “Fuckin’ unreal.”

You rubbed your head. “I can’t be stuck in limbo anymore. If I knew where I stood with you, I could move accordingly. But I’m not that strong. I am exhausted fighting my brain and my heart all the time,” you said.

“And what about what I want? What if I don’t want to let you go?” He asked. His voice strained and your heart ached for him. This was so fucking painful, like shards of glass embedded into every beat of your heart.

“I’m not happy. And I’m not trying to hurt you, it’s not you in particular that made me unhappy. I just am. I’m constantly feeling like a bad mother. I’m constantly feeling like a failed wife. Because why else aren’t you home? Why aren’t you here with me?” You sobbed harder, silently, tears falling in scalding streaks down your face.

“Why didn’t you tell me this sooner?” He asked. His voice rose and your tears only fell harder. You were just a failure of a person, not able to make your child happy. Your husband happy. Yourself happy.

“I didn’t want to make you choose,” you said.

“You keep saying that as if I wouldn’t choose you every time!” His voice rose higher, practically yelling at you and you swiped at your face. You hated crying. Pressure built in your face and made everything gross and full of snot.

Terry lifted fists to his face and knocked his forehead. “I knew something was up with you. I knew it and I just couldn’t name it. This is my fault, I know that,” he said.

“It’s not! You’re a good father,” you said.

“But a terrible husband?” He asked.

“I didn’t say that!” You said.

Terry paced the kitchen some more, rubbing furiously at his face. If he had his facial hair, he’d probably tug at it. “I thought you wanted me away. I thought…you hated having me here. It seemed like you never wanted to talk over the phone anymore or you barely looked at me on chat. I should’ve known that was my clue to check back in,” he said.

“Will you please stop saying it’s your fault? I’m in this relationship too and I haven’t been the best wife,” you said. You knew that you could have done better. Could have talked more openly. Told hm you were struggling over the years but you didn’t want him to feel guilty while he was at work. He was providing for you after all. And you thought you could be happy with that. But you weren’t. You were a basic simp. You wanted your husband. And you’d rather beg on the street with him than live in luxury without him.

“How could you say that? You’re an amazing wife. It’s my job to make sure that’s not a doubt in your mind,” he said.

You groaned. “M-Maybe we just need to cool off,” you said.

“No, no, we can fix this. Don’t shut me out!” He said.

“I can’t help it!” You yelled.

“Why not?”

“I don’t know!” You swiped angrily at your tears. “Because I’m broken? Because I’m a horrible person? I don’t know! I don’t know how to be happy. I don’t know how to let things go. I don’t know how to live and let live. My brain is fucking mean and every time we get off the phone, I start worrying that I’m bugging you? Holding you back? Am I selfish for wanting you at the cost of my happiness? Is that self love or destruction? I can’t fucking tell anymore, Terry, and it scares the hell out of me.”

You stood up and turned away from him, looking down at your left hand. You looked at the simple band he got when he first proposed. He promised to replace it as soon as you had two nickels to rub together but you told him not to bother. The band was to deter other men from talking crazy to what belonged to him. You just wanted him.

You never took it off. Never. It was practically glued to your finger. But you turned around and slipped it off.

Terry stood up and backed away. “Don’t you fuckin’ dare,” he seethed.

His eyes were a raging storm, swirling with mixed emotions. His shapely eyebrows were curved downward, nostrils flaring. If you waved a red flag, he would surely charge you.

“I know I’ve been a shit husband. I…used the military as an excuse. That maybe we just worked better apart. But all I’ve been doing is hurting us both. Creating this distance between us. I want nothing more than to come home to you and Cadence. I’m on leave. We can talk this out,” he said.

“All you’re going to do is convince me that things will change. And the next time you go back to work, we’re back to the same shit. What kind of life is that?”

“I’ll put in my papers tomorrow. I’ll get a local job,” he said.

“And what will you say when you wake up years from now resenting me?” You asked.

“What the fuck is it going to take for you to believe me?” He asked.

You sighed. “I don’t know,” you said. You looked down at your feet. What would convince you? You weren’t sure. You didn’t want Terry to jump through hoops to prove that he was still the man you were in love with.

You lifted your gaze to him just in time to see him swipe at a lone tear halfway down his cheek. He stepped closer and you tensed, waiting for him to explode. To yell or scream or call you out of your name. But your husband would never.

Instead, he paused just beside you, facing forward. He didn’t move to touch you. Didn’t press for more contact than what you were willing to give at the moment. You felt fragile. Raw. Like you could collapse at any moment.

“Don’t you ever take that ring off your finger. I’m not done fighting for us. And until you figure out what it will take, I’m not letting you go. I swear to you I’ll never leave you and Cadence. Both of you are my reason for living and if it takes my last breath, we’ll be a family again. I’ll stay at Mike’s for a while, but I’ll be back in the morning to tell Cadence myself,” he said.

He walked out of the kitchen and like the coward you were, you let him. Maybe you should have kept your mouth shut. Because this was true agony. This was a hell of your own making and you still weren’t sure what the fuck was wrong with you.

Maybe you truly were that broken.

The end, end.

WHEW. I'm sorry, my loves. The Secret Terry Richmond Files

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mullermilkshake · 1 day ago

Text

Sukuna’s proposal

Yakuza!Sukuna x Fem!reader

MINORS DNI - Tags: Yakuza AU, fem reader, knives, blood, graphic depictions of violence, references to non-con, stabbing, potential death, gun use, fighting, risk of death/murder, threats of violence, marriage proposal.

Shinjuku - 1982…

Mr Nanami called your name from his office, "Can you come in here please?"

"Is everything alright?" for the first time since you started this job, Kento Nanami showed a concerned look across his face.

"I have someone incredibly important coming and I have to be upfront with you," he offered up the chair across from his desk and allowed you to sit. "To be honest, I thought you would have left by now."

Was he questioning your professionalism? You had been there a few months and he hadn't uttered a word. "How so?"

"Well this sort of work isn't exactly your usual office work, I know you're aware of my security systems."

You were also very aware that at least Mr Nanami was Yakuza, though it never bothered you. It was simple enough to come into work, do your job and leave in the evening. Of course it came with its risks, but any job linked to the Yakuza warranted more open eyes than usual.

That was why you opted for spray in your bag incase someone came with overzealous hands. You could handle yourself in some capacity, so it was never an issue.

"I'm also aware that you are Yakuza, Mr Nanami. That doesn't bother me if that's what you are trying to imply?"

Was that a sigh of relief? "So you're up to speed then, this makes things easier. I apologise I never implicitly clarified before you came, but as you may have noticed, it's difficult to find civilian staff who won't run at the first sign of trouble."

Mr Nanami seemed like a reliable man at least, he was prompt, respectful and incredibly chivalrous. Something that may come in handy later should trouble actually arise.

Though for now, it seemed plausible to suggest that you were in good hands. As long as that didn't change and he left you out in the cold.

"I took this job knowing what sort of work you may have been in, I just need a steady pay check to afford my apartment. I don't need to know anything or ask questions."

Mr Nanami nodded and leant forward in his chair, lacing his fingers together in thought. "Good. At least I won't have to explain this."

He rummaged through his desk drawer and pulled out a knife. large enough to be mistaken for a kitchen knife, though it was dainty enough to be pocket sized if you squinted at it hard enough.

"I want you to keep this in your desk out front. The man who's coming is the type that some people despise for various reasons and I do not like the fact you have nothing as a deterrent while he's here."

Some might have suggested in their minds that the man himself was a serial killer or something, but that wasn't it at all. That signified to you that the man in question was someone of great importance to Mr Nananmi.

His own boss perhaps? Someone with enough power to make enemies out of the wood work to warrant protection from a secretary out front at collateral.

You bet on that it was his boss.

"Alright then," you leant forward and took the knife from the desk, its weighted handle gleaming in the low light of the screens off to the left side of the room you never dared to look at. "If that's what you wish of me, consider it done."

Mr Nanami got up from his chair as a signal for you to do the same. "Thank you, I hope you never have to use it."

"I hope so too," following him, he led you out of the office and back to your desk to which you slipped the knife into your drawer just like he had done before. "What time will your guest arrive?"

"Tonight, but I won't need you to bring him through. I'll greet him myself," he made a move back to his office and stopped in his tracks. "It's best if you don't make direct eye contact with him, his presence can be overwhelming to some."

You nodded to give non-verbal communication and turned to your work for rest of the day until Mr Nanami came back out of his office to greet the shadow at the door.

"Chairman," seeing Mr Nanami bow to another man was an odd sight.

The man being shorter in stature than himself, bright hair and unusual tattooed markings on his face. He was beautiful, the markings were beautiful in their own way, and being a Yakuza man made his presence all that more intimidating.

Well, to other people. Not to you.

To you, he was just another man just like Mr Nanami.

For a fleeting second, the two of you made eye contact to which you bowed your head in respect and continued working, noting his silent footsteps wander past you and into Mr Nanami's office.

Another hour must have passed in silence while your pen scribbled away, scratching over the quiet for something to listen to. Paperwork and filed reports sorted alphabetically to make the time not drag whilst there wasn't much else to do.

A knock at the outer office door was the most interesting thing in the whole room, it sounded timid by the rapping of knuckles which led you to believe it was Ino coming back to tinker with the network, or fiddle with something computer related.

But it wasn't.

It was a man you had never seen before. "I'm sorry, is there any chance I can see Nanami right now?"

"Sorry, but Mr Nanami is in a meeting right now. He can't be disturbed, would you like to leave a message?"

"No that's fine," he moved towards the desk and just past it, looking at the office door. "I only wanted to see who was out here before I get my guys."

What?

He held up a gun and moved fast enough to get behind you. "Why he would put a woman out front is beyond me. The Chairman's in there, isn't he?"

So that man inside with Mr Nanami was the Chairman?

You said nothing, making little micro movements towards your desk drawer. The weapon seemed as though bad luck had graced your desk, spending not even twenty four hours in your possession and you were already edging towards it to use it on a man you'd never met before.

There was a gun pointed at your head and you were as calm as you had ever been. Though what was the use in panicking?

The barrel of that gun pressed against your head. "Answer me, bitch."

"I don't know who you're referring to," so close now, the drawer handle in your reach.

"Don't fucking lie to me," he was trying to be as quiet as he could, teeth gritted and all. "I have four guys out there ready to storm this place and they'll take turns with you, believe me. So cooperate and tell me."

He was making threats like that already? He was either incredibly wet behind the ears to use something so drastic this early, or it was a bluff.

"Alright, I'll get the keys to the office."

The excuse was enough for the pressure of metal to leave the back of your head and allow you to open the drawer naturally and moved your hand around to feel for the knife's handle.

'If a person has possession of a knife when threatened, they better follow through in using it.' That was advice you had heard once from somewhere.

Might as well listen to it.

It all happened so fast, taking a hold of the weighted handle and moving forward a fraction so you could drive the blade into the man's thigh. The gun went off regardless by your head and the shot rang through your ears though it wasn't enough to stun you.

You weren't sure how you got up from your seat the way you did to draw the knife out of him and lunge again with the steel pushing onto his chest, enough to topple him off his feet and drag him to meet the hard floor with you on top of him.

The ringing vibrated your ear drums, tingling too much to notice Mr Nanami's office door open. You were on top of a man who threatened you with a gun and there was so much blood.

But he was still alive.

It wasn't shock. It couldn't have been. You were still coherent, you just couldn't hear much. The red on your hands was new, sticky and warm enough to keep you out of the moment until someone took a hold of your shoulders.

It wiped you out and into reality, grasping at what you had done in the present in front of your employer and a stranger who was eyeing you intensely.

"Can you hear me?" Mr Nanami shook you a little, his voice muffled somewhat. "Are you alright?"

"He threatened me- I didn't know what else I could do."

And now you were justifying yourself. You would do the same thing if there was a time machine to take you back.

"But are you alright?"

"I'm fine. There might be others outside," how were you talking so clearly right now with just your little rapid breaths at your lips? "He asked about the Chairman and said there are four others."

"Can you stand?"

"Yeah. I'm alright," the blood was a nuisance.

Mr Nanami lead you over to your chair and pulled the desk phone to his ear. "I'm calling Naoya, he'll be able to take you home."

"Don't let that ingrate in on this Nanami," the Chairman spoke for the first time.

"I can't leave until this is cleared up, she'll need to get home."

"I'll take her back, Uraume is waiting in the car," the Chairman approached the desk and folded his arms with purpose. "Naoya is a brat, he'd only mess it up. I'll make sure she get's home while you clean up the trash."

Wait. Clean up? Things were catching up to you. "Is he dead?"

Had you just killed a man? You should have been more freaked out about it. But you weren't.

"He's kicking for now. Shame. You should have aimed higher."

Right in front of you was a hand, the Chairman's hand. You made a note of the darkened polish adorning his manicured nails, black bands around his wrist.

You took it without question. "I'll bare that in mind next time I stab a man."

"Good. Nanami, call by tomorrow when this is sorted."

"Yes sir."

His hand was far warmer than you anticipated. He never let go until you were in the car, a sort of blur until he broke the silence.

"Care to explain how a civilian found their way into a vipers pit of the Yakuza?"

He was the Chairman, it was only respectful you answer him honestly. Right? "Money. I needed the money. I was aware who Mr Nanami was as soon as I saw him."

The world zipped by from the car window, unaware for the crime you had just committed. If the man wasn't dead, he was certainly gravely injured enough to warrant a prison sentence should anone find out. It was never discussed or mentioned by Mr Nanami or the Chairman.

It was more like an afterthought from yourself.

"Yet you still accepted the job offer anyway? And now you've stabbed a man with a gun. This life is hardly one to brag about when you're collateral."

"It doesn't scare me," only his reflection was in your periphery, you didn't turn your head to face him. "It's a job. I've had my fair share of hardships to know life isn't easy. Defending myself is something that comes naturally."

You could have sworn you heard him chuckle. "Defending yourself is far more difficult than people understand. It takes someone strong to do what is necessary."

That much was true. And that statement was enough to get your head turning to face him. Even in the dim light of the passing street lights, he was beautiful.

How did someone such as himself find his way into becoming a Chairman?

"Sometimes we're faced with difficult decisions when the hardest choice is the wisest. It's just something that has to happen."

The blood had dried along your fingers and began to crack and chip away leaving streaks of exposed skin at the joints. It would take more than just one shower alone to get all of this yuck off of you.

"You speak more truth than most of the men under my watch. It's refreshing."

"Sir, we've arrived," a voice from the drivers side came about to ground you.

"Thank you for the ride. I appreciate it."

The car door was suddenly opened for you, the driver bowing and their identity remained hidden. The other door opened and the Chairman approached you.

"I never got your name, Mr Nanami never told me."

"Sukuna. It's Ryomen Sukuna."

Even in the darkened sky of the night's glow tapered off with the neon signs of Shinjuku, he was still beautiful. You spoke your name too and offered a bow before taking steps towards the door to your apartment.

A quaint little ground floor, and it was all yours.

"Do you need assistance?"

"No, I'll be alright from here."

His eyes were in the back of your head as you wandered past him. "I'll be forward because it's not every day I meet a woman who pulls something so extraordinary to gain my attention like you did today."

"Hmm?" you turned and watched him from your front door almost, he made no attempt to follow you.

"Marry me."

"What?"

A proposal from someone you had spoken few sentences to was a first. But you didn't find yourself shying away from the subject.

"Marry me."

"I..."

The man in front of you softened his eyes, never judging you covered in another mans blood. "Think about it, and come to me with any answer you choose."

He bowed to you and turned towards the car, the driver opening the door to let him disappear into the darkness of tinted glass.

After that night, you wondered about that man and who he really was.

You gave him your answer several days later.

And it was a firm yes.

#yakuza au #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #x reader #fem reader #reader insert #sukuna x reader #sukuna #ryomen sukuna #sukuna ryomen #jjk sukuna #uraume #ryomen sukuna x reader #jjk ryomen

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