#rebel ridge au

[erikftglitter]

Terry Knows.. | Terry Richmond

After an exuberant, yet fulfilling, workout, Terry was ready to head back home. He had been jogging for the last couple of hours to clear his head before the sunset. His music supplied him with enough ammunition to turn around and head back home to you.

On the way back home Terry is thrilled to see you. These last two days have been bittersweet. You have been in bed sick and overwhelmed, and while he hated to see you sick, he loved having you to himself.

Terry closed the door carefully behind him, being sure to not disturb your rest. He made fresh chicken noodle soup before he left for his run but you were too fatigued to eat. He scanned the kitchen and realized that everything was still the way that he left it. You hadn’t ate or moved since he left. He was beginning to feel a tad bit guilty.

He removed his running shoes and began to strip out of his soiled clothes, but the appearance of your silhouette caught his attention. You were resting seamlessly in the bed that you two shared, but this time the blanket that you’d been adamant about sleeping with was rolled off of your body and abandoned on the opposite side of you.

You were wearing one of Terry’s shirts, something that was becoming routine for you. Terry approached your sleeping body, careful to keep his presence nonexistent. The shirt being slightly scrunched by your movements revealed your stomach to him.

Terry wanted to believe that he was seeing things, but he knew that he was not. Your hand was delicately placed on your stomach and the bulge in your abdomen couldn’t be mistaken for anything else. He wanted to curse at the cues that he missed but he didn’t want to disrupt your slumber. You hadn’t been able to keep any food down since you’ve been here. He assumed that you had a stomach bug and needed the comfort. How silly of him.

Terry tried to control his thoughts while he showered but he couldn’t help but to feel hurt. Why wouldn’t you tell him? How long had you known? He knows that he wasn’t one to discuss the future but he absolutely wouldn’t put you through this alone. Memories of your last encounter began to fill Terry’s head.

“F-fuck Terry! Yes!” You groaned into the pillow underneath you. Terry’s hands ghosted over your spine before he completely pushed your face into the pillow. His thrusts were consistent and unforgiving as fucked you to bliss.

“Mhmm. One more baby.” Terry growled as he heard the familiar cries underneath him. Your voice wavered whenever that familiar pit gathered in your body and you couldn’t be trusted to say anything but obscenities.

Completely turned on by your words Terry felt himself begin to unravel. The sight of your sex creaming around him was enough for Terry to abandon the idea of pulling out and cumming inside of you.

That had been almost three months ago. This is just what you and Terry did. You met years ago but the bachelor never came around to the idea of settling down. He was always there for a moment then gone in the next. You weren’t expecting to run into him again while you were in the town for work, but those eyes of his enamored you and soon you found yourself checking out of your hotel and into Terry’s bed.

The light sounds of water woke you up from your nap. You quickly pulled your shirt, well Terry’s shirt, down and sat up. You know that you needed to say something and that it was selfish to keep to yourself, but Terry wasn’t built for stuff like this. He doesn’t want a woman nor does he want a child. Terry liked to be alone and you weren’t fond of hurting your own feelings by allowing him to reject you and your growing baby.

As self absorbed as it may sound, you only agreed to stay with Terry for the weekend because it would be your last time seeing him. You were already on month three and it was starting to get difficult to fit into your clothes. Hiding a pregnancy was one thing but hiding your born child was not on the table. You needed this weekend as a form of closure before you figured out what was to come.

When Terry exited the shower you weren’t expecting his cold demeanor. He hadn’t said anything but his eyes always seemed to revel his feelings. You were now dressed and sitting on the edge of the bed that you made before he got out of the shower. As tired as you were you still were persistent about faking it.

“I see you’re dressed.” Terry spoke from his place near his closet. He dropped his towel as he moved to put on his briefs. He was unfazed by your presence and that confidence was something that you loved about him.

“Yeah. I need to head out now.” You reply as you scan the room for anything that you might’ve left. You’d be leaving your heart here but he didn’t need to know that. He wouldn’t care about that. You two were just friends that occasionally shared the same bed. He never wanted anything serious.

“I take that you’re just going to leave with my baby. Right?” Terry’s words are enough to make your heart drop. You blink rapidly in hopes of drying your eyes from the tears that were pooling up.

“I-I don’t kn-now what you’re talking about Terry.” You quickly gather your bag and attempt to head out of his bedroom and to dart out of the house, but you should’ve known that he’d outrun you any day.

“So you really were going to leave with my baby?” He asks, his arms extended in front of you blocking your path. Both his tone and facial expression were softer this time around.

“I know that you never wanted this Terrance. I’m just doing what’s best-“ The sound of Terry’s voice stops you.

“Yeah? And how do you know what’s for the best? You weren’t even going to tell me?” He was clearly hurt at your declaration. Who were you to deny him something that he rightfully created alongside you?

“Don’t do this.” You can’t hold the tears back this time as they fall down your face. This is definitely not how you imagined the evening would go.

“I’m not letting you go YN,” Terry says after a few moments. “I know that I haven’t been the best person to talk to, but I refuse to let you go again and especially not like this.” Terry removes his arms from around you and lift your face to make eye contact with him.

“You’re not doing this alone anymore. It’s me and you. Me and you.” He emphasizes as he brings your body closer to his.

[kumkaniudaku]

Hot

Summary: Patrice thinks Terry looks...different when he returns from a Summer in New Orleans.

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC (Patrice Ellis)

Word Count: 3.2K

Warnings: None

The summer before senior year was a scorcher. Every inch of Fayetteville felt blanketed in stifling, burning heat and humidity so thick that walking through six feet of pool water was easier than going outside to the mailbox.

For four weeks, Patrice spent the dog days lounging beneath her ceiling fan rotating at full speed, enjoying a good book and spirited hours-long phone conversations with her best friend to beat the heat. Not out of necessity, despite the breath-stealing grip of sweltering heat greeting her each time she got too close to the front door, but because her right-hand man had gone further south for the season. 

No amount of late-evening phone calls taken in his grandmother's upstairs guest bedroom or Facebook pokes sent back and forth could make up for Terry's absence. Typically, he'd board a short flight to New Orleans, live like a local for ten days, then hustle back up the southeast to return in enough time for pre-season conditioning. Maman and a host of cousins looking to brighten the matriarch's day were convincing enough to pull Terry away from the comforts of homes one and two for longer than he wanted. Sure, Granny was happy, but the young lady eagerly awaiting the loud trill of her cell phone every night after 6:00 pm local time was difficult not to miss. 

Patrice might say the same if she weren't still denying her feelings to anyone bold enough to ask prying questions. Everyone except Napheesa Garland. She got the brunt of all Patrice's pining, whether she wanted to hear love-sick sentiments or not. 

On the other end of a phone call already running well past an hour, Napheesa chuckled at her friend's third deep sigh of the evening. "Girl, you have got to get it together. He's literally just Terry. You know how long I've known Terry? His head was big in middle school, and he looked like he was two grades younger than us. That's how long I've known Terry." 

"I bet he was so cute," Patrice sighed, the smile in her voice evident through the receiver. She turned on her back to look up at the ceiling and admire her fresh bubblegum pink pedicure. "I can just imagine a smaller Terry and that cute little smile." 

"The more you talk, the less I'm convinced you don't like him," Napheesa accused.

"I don't," Patrice corrected, her voice climbing guiltily. "I just wanna see what he was like!"

Napheesa kissed her teeth. "Well, today's your lucky day. Check your phone." 

A soft vibration against Patrice's face sent her into a tizzy. Her fingers rushed to transfer Napheesa to speaker so she could view her friend's message and keep the conversation going simultaneously. Her thumb eagerly tapped at the unread message before a cheery smile morphed into a confused front. 

"Yeesh," she vocalized as she turned the phone upside down, searching for any angle to turn the unsightly yearbook photo into something worth seeing.

Against a blue background, Terry of yore posed, almost grimacing at the camera. He looked caught between a wince and a frown, his brows knitted in the same muted anger often etched into his facial expressions when he didn't feel entirely comfortable in his surroundings. Small, raised red bumps peppered his cheeks and forehead. A long stripe of hair in desperate need of loving hands and hot argan oil curled amid sides cut to highlight his curled mohawk. She'd seen Terry with crust in his eyes and ashy from whipping winds after a late fall football game. This Terry, young and awkwardly grimacing at the camera, was as much a stranger as random patrons in a grocery store. 

Patrice zoomed closer. "Wow. A mohawk, huh?" 

"That he barely kept cut," Phee laughed. "All the boys had one. And all the boys looked dumb as hell." 

"I think it's kind of cute. Look at that attempt at a smile." Clear and present flaws slowly transformed into a host of adorable, unique features she would search for on his face the next time she saw him. 

Those bushy brows and hazel-green eyes hadn't changed a bit. Patrice chalked the rest up to puberty working overtime to match the internal with the external. 

"You're sick, P. Like really out of your mind." Phee's accusation came with a deep sigh as if she was disappointed in her friend's inability to say a bad word about her half-best friend/half-boyfriend.

Patrice giggled. "I'm a hopeless romantic! Is it not my job to see the best in my man." 

"Today, he's your man, but as soon as he's standing directly in your face, you act like you can't speak up. A lie don't care who tell it," Napheesa rebutted. 

It didn't matter how close the words crept to the tip of her tongue when they spent the end of their nights together talking about nothing and everything at the same time or how many times she'd started a text message spilling her guts only to delete every word to share some meaningless tidbit for his prompt response. Patrice couldn't say how she felt yet. One day. Just not now. 

As she prepared to explain herself for the thousandth time, stilted beeps on her line alerted her to an incoming call. The contact name, TJ :), lit the screen beneath a digital clock reading just after 6:00 pm. "Oh, hold on, Terry's calling. Don't hang up." 

Ruckus receded into a low hum after a shutting door sealed Terry into his shared room for the summer. "What's up, Treece," he greeted, his speech carrying more drawl than Patrice remembered at the end of the school year. A bed creaked under his weight in the background. "My bad for not texting back earlier. I was fishin' and guess I lost track of time." 

"It's alright. Hey, hold on. Phee's on the other line." Deft maneuvers patched Terry and Napheesa into a joint call bound to start and end with an argument. "Phee, Terry's on. Y'all should be nice to each other." 

Napheesa groaned. "I'm always nice to Terry when he's not startin' shit." 

"Yeah, she nice to me but be playing my boy Kendall like he not trynna see what's up. Why you actin' like that, PheePhee?" 

"It's Napheesa to you since you wanna play, Terrence. And don't be worrying about me and Kendall. Worry about you and your girl," Napheesa countered. 

Terry chuckled. "And who is my girl, hm?" He paused for an answer, a toothy grin spreading across his face as he got comfortable on one of two twin beds in the room. 

Patrice silently prayed to the Lord above, hoping her friend wouldn't pick a moment like this to open a can of worms she couldn't close once the slithering creatures were out and about. They both listened to Napheesa grunt in defeat. 

"Forget it," she huffed. Patrice took a deep breath, silently thankful for Phee's loyalty. "I gotta go. Call me when you want to go to the mall on Saturday, P. I'll pick you up. Bye, Knucklehead." 

"Bye, PheePhee. Tell Kendall I said hey!" Terry teased.

"Shut up!" 

As quickly as they'd gone back and forth over trivial matters, Napheesa was gone with a quick click, leaving Terry and Patrice alone as they usually were when golden hour light filled the evening sky. They sat silently for a moment, both listening to the other breathe in the happiness they thought they could only find in person. 

A soft laugh broke through the stillness. "You still there," Terry questioned. He listened to Patrice giggle back with his eyes closed, allowing the sound to wrap him in a warm embrace. "How was your day? Do anything fun?" 

"Not really. It's so hot outside I thought I saw the devil climbing into the bird bath out back." They laughed at another one of Patrice's patented grandma-isms, which Terry deemed silly but endearing. She continued. "What about you? How was fishing? Catch anything?" 

Terry sighed, the nonchalant shrug evident in his tone. "Just some catfish. Nothin' crazy. Couldn't get Mike to shut up long enough for anything to bite." 

"I don't blame him. Fishing is so boring. I don't know how you do it." 

"I like the quiet on the water. It's good for my brain with all the…stuff goin' on at home," he answered.

Patrice fiddled with the fringe on her throw pillow, searching for words of comfort. "She'll get better. You'll see when you get back." 

"Maybe." The heaviness in his response temporarily paused their discussion, leaving room for the quiet whoost of Patrice's ceiling fan in the background. Terry scratched at his stubble-covered chin and tried to add an extra lilt to his voice to preserve Patrice's happiness. "I got something to tell you." A small excited squeal preceded Patrice's urging for more. He laughed and shook his head. "I'll be home tomorrow night. Probably not in time to stop by or anything, but I could come to the mall with you and Phee on Saturday. If it's cool and all." 

A glossed bottom lip found itself trapped beneath Patrice's top row of teeth, struggling against the confines to break into a smile. "I'll ask her. We could do a movie or something, too." 

"Yeah. Me and you. We got a lot to catch up on." 

A million things came to mind: drama between classmates erupting on MySpace and late-night ooVoo video chats, new storylines in their favorite show, tales of haunted houses and alleged voodoo ladies, and Patrice's brand new haircut. She hoped he'd like the drastic change from her shoulder-length press and curl to the sleek bob she'd begged her mother to sign off on. 

Miles apart, they allowed thoughts of the other to consume their every waking moment. Some were in their slumber until two nights passed, and Saturday morning placed them only a neighborhood away. 

Most of Patrice's energy had gone into picking the right top to show a sliver of midriff when a text message caused her phone to buzz against her dresser. She paused the music blaring from her radio to peek at the phone screen.

Phee: scratch wat I said about Terry the other day. he at the prk looking GOOD! u ready 2 go yet? 

Flutters carrying nervousness and excitement in a revolving cycle filled Patrice's chest and belly. For Napheesa, the proud president and founding member of the 'Terry is Just Alright Club,' to compliment Terry meant she'd seen beauty not yet known to man. She'd finally seen the light at the end of a crush tunnel only meant to carry one to the promised land. 

Patrice couldn't think beyond a quick misspelled confirmation that she was ready to go despite having not yet laid eyes on her shoes, purse, or the earrings her mother required she wear any time she stepped out of the house. She spent the better part of a 10-minute drive to the park adjusting and readjusting the feathered bang in her bob and the right amount of hair to tuck behind her ear while Napheesa rattled off all the info she knew about Terry's whereabouts. 

He was at the big, empty field at the far end of Elton Hayes Memorial Park playing touch football with a group of boys, both of them only kind of knew from surrounding high schools. A rumor from a mutual friend alleged a tattoo on his right shoulder – a rose or a bulldog or something to that effect. Patrice started hearing every other word as the bright red Kia, acting as her chariot for the afternoon, pulled into the parking lot and slowed to a stop. 

Sure enough, Terry was in the area. His green Ford Explorer, full of dents and scratches as a hand me down from his paternal uncle, sat across the way as a sign that he was not just a beautiful mirage in the heat wave but an actual walking, talking person back in her world again. 

Fear quietly gripped Patrice, closing her throat and sending her lungs into overdrive to pull in vital oxygen. She frantically searched her face for imperfections in the mirror. "Phee, do I look okay," she croaked while slathering more lip gloss on her lips. "I don't look weird, right? You think he'll recognize me." 

"Girl, you look fine." Napheesa's eyes slowly pulled away from the group of boys running to and fro across patches of dry grass and light-colored sand to focus on her friend in need of reassurance. She tucked hair behind Patrice's ear and smiled. "I wasn't gonna say anything because he told me not to, but Terry asked me to bring you here. He wants to see you. So don't go gettin' all shy on me. Go talk to him!" 

Most of Patrice believed Napheesa. The rational side with a brain capable of processing coherent thoughts knew Terry well enough to discern when he was sincere and when he was bating her into a silly tale for his own amusement. She'd heard about an alleged crush from Corey and felt sparks of what might be when they shared the same space in comfortable silence. There was something there. Be it the first flashes of burgeoning romance, scary and tingly on her skin like a curious caterpillar finding respite on her arm in Spring, or some internal hoping requited love, Patrice didn't know. 

All she could discern was the quiet pop from the door handle, giving the heat access to the inside of Napheesa's air-conditioned, bright red Kia before she stuck one moisturized leg and the other outside. 

Any fear of intruding on Terry's ambition to turn a desolate patch of grass into Lambeau Field during the playoffs slowly melted away once he caught wind of her presence. Had Patrice been paying attention to her surroundings and not the hunk of new muscle and peanut butter skin basking in early afternoon sun rays, she may have noticed how he eyed her simple cut-off skirt and white graphic tee ensemble. But she couldn't take her eyes off Terry long enough to tell up from down or left from white. 

When he left four weeks prior, she remembered him as more lean, more pale, more boyish than the version of Terry standing a few yards away. He'd gained muscle on his arms and back that rippled beneath slick skin like Usher's muscles in the U Don't Have To Call video. Terry hadn't reached those heights, but he was damn close. And were those abs? The question pinged around Patrice's nearly empty brain as she eyed his naked torso. Those were abs. She whipped her head back around to look at Napheesa in the front seat but found her shock unreciprocated when she noticed Phee laughing at something on her phone. Patrice was in this one alone. 

A second look had her zeroing in on the fabled black and white ink covering the upper portion of his strong right shoulder. She couldn't make out the figure taking up fresh real estate, but she knew she wanted to get her hand on it – squeeze for dear life while he wrapped her body in an embrace so firm and intentional it made her head spin. 

Patrice watched him jog in her direction with teeth gleaming in a dashing smile, fresh-shaven facial hair leaving the ghost of a shadow on his young face, and a fresh haircut glistening from a mix of wave pomade and sweat. His quad muscles define his long legs flexed with each heel stroke against dry earth. Her breath caught in her throat as he drew closer, calling her name like a child excited to see their parents after a long day in school. 

Terry's deepening voice spoke her name once more. "Treece! What's up!?" Wet, sticky skin collided with Patrice's front, wrapping her into a tight embrace that nearly lifted her off the ground as he spoke into the top of her head. He inhaled the scent of strawberries and cream on her skin, then exhaled in goofy bliss before speaking again. "Damn, girl. You don't talk no more? Couldn't get you to quiet down the other day." 

Sweet symphonies made of words coated in a fleeting, down-home New Orleans drawl tried to lull Patrice into an unshakeable haze. The only thing keeping her mind, body, and soul planted to her side of Heaven was the harsh mix of musk and cologne wafting from Terry's body. Recollection of all the time she'd spent layering Victoria's Secret body mist and lotion for her signature scent shocked her back into reality. 

"Gross, TJ! You stink," she complained, only half-serious as she extended her arms to create some separation. He chuckled at her insult while he backed away to give his friend some space. They eyed each other shamelessly, neither bold enough to say the potentially inappropriate thoughts running through their minds. "Welcome back," Patrice finally coughed up when a front room view of large hands scratching at his bare chest became too much to handle. "I thought we were goin' to the mall. You can't go anywhere with me lookin' like that."

Terry shook his head and adjusted the waistband of his shorts, just missing Patrice's eyes following his hand's motions. "My fault. Mike and Rob needed somebody to fill out the team, and I could use the run. You and Phee wanna meet me there? I can leave and get dressed right now."

"If you want to." The meek, sweet voice emanating from her vocal cords startled Patrice into a fight to recover. She stammered through an overcorrection. "B-but, like, hurry up. We still wanna see a movie too." 

"Wait, can we see Transformers? I had to leave before I could go with my cousins." 

His childlike pleading came with green eyes rounded into saucers for extra appeal. Patrice rolled her eyes, purporting annoyance when a swell of abnormal flutters overtook her chest. "Alright," she relented. "But you're getting the popcorn." 

Terry pinched her cheek and smiled. "I'll do popcorn and the tickets. Maman sent me back with a little bit of cash." 

"TJ," Patrice started to protest, only to be met with opposition. 

"Stop it, Treece," Terry warned. "It's fine. Tell me what times they have, and I'll get there before then." 

It was settled. A little playful back and forth and plans to call as soon as new information became available turned an unofficial hangout into more concrete plans to reacquaint with Corey added to round out the foursome. 

Patrice practically floated back to Napheesa's small Spectra, the biting chill of her air conditioning on full blast finally cueing her brain to the stinging, painful skin covering her sweating body.

Phee watched her fuss with hair swelling at the roots in the mirror, anxiously awaiting an update. When none came, she forced the issue. 

She started in a slow, calm voice that resembled one her mother used when she and her two brothers had really messed up. "Patrice Nicole, you better tell me what just happened, and you better tell me quick." A slow smile spread across her best friend's face, further exacerbating the situation. "P! Come on! I'm dying!" 

After allowing the overhead mirror to slam shut against worn interior upholstery, Patrice turned in the passenger seat to face Napheese. A flash of genuine concern flashed across her eyes as reality crashed into her at full speed. She took a deep breath and then allowed a small smile to tug at the corner of her lips. 

"Remember what you said the other day," Patrice questioned, waiting for a nod to continue. "You were right. I think…I know that I like Terry now. As more than a friend."

-------

Sincere apologies for any errors! I'll do a sweep tomorrow but really wanted to get this out.

Reply if you'd like to be tagged in future work!

TAGS: @planetblaque @wvsspoppin @thatone-girly @avoidthings @slutsareteacherstoo @eilujion @amyhennessyhouse @yaachtynoboat711 @jenlovey @pinkpantheris @blowmymbackout @onherereading @becauseimswagman1 @thiccc-c @hrlzy @urfavblackbimbo @blackburnbook @ashanti-notthesinger @xo-goldengirl @ariiijestertheklown @blyffe @tvchi @wabi-sabi1090 @blackmoonchilee @flydotty @aldrigmer444 @ash-ketchumzzz @nayaesworld @ms-mosley-ifunastyyy @writingsbytee @teddybeerz @trippyscotch @theogbadbitch @ghostfacekill-monger @nyifly22

[venusincleo]

𝐕𝐞𝐧𝐮𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐂𝐥𝐞𝐨'𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭.

𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐧𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧…

𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐢 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐎𝐧𝐞𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬:

◦ 𝐎𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐧 𝐕𝐞𝐧𝐮𝐬♀︎ [𝙰 𝙲𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚘�� 𝙾𝚗𝚎𝚂𝚑𝚘𝚝𝚜 & 𝚃𝚠𝚘𝚂𝚑𝚘𝚝𝚜] ◦

𝒱𝑒𝓃𝓊𝓈 ¹ [Terry Richmond x Black!OC Self!Insert]

𝒱𝑒𝓃𝓊𝓈 ² [Terry Richmond x Black!OC Self!Insert]

◦ 𝐀𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐞𝐝. [𝚃𝚎𝚛𝚛𝚢 𝚁𝚒𝚌𝚑𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚍 𝚡 𝙱𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚔!𝙾𝙲 𝙲𝚕𝚎𝚘 𝙴𝚕𝚘𝚌𝚢𝚗] ◦

One. [chapter one. the way.]

◦ 𝐊𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐚. [𝙽𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝙹𝚊𝚌𝚘𝚋𝚜 𝚡 𝙱𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚔𝙾𝙲! 𝙻𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚊 𝙰𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢] ◦

01. [introduction.]

◦ 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞. [𝙰𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚗 𝙿𝚒𝚎𝚛𝚛𝚎 𝚡 𝙱𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚔!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛] ◦

One [i.]

Two [ii.]

Three [iii.]

𝐂𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐬 𝐀𝐔

[𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚎 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢 𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚜 𝚎𝚡𝚒𝚜𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚎/𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚎.]

◦ 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫. [𝙹𝚘𝚑𝚗 𝚂𝚊𝚖𝚙𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚡 𝙱𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚔!𝙾𝙲 𝙽𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚊 𝙸𝚣𝚎𝚕] ◦

♡ [A Glimpse]

• • •

[uzumaki-rebellion]

Vampire!Terry Richmond Masterlist

Pairing: Vampire!Terry Richmond x Black OC

Warning(s): 18+, Explicit Sex/Unprotected Sex, Violence, Blood, Angst, Abortion Mentioned, Cannabis Usage, Hoodoo, Witchcraft, and Supernatural Shenanigans.

Summary: Celeste thought the tattoo on Terry Richmond's arm marked him as one of those Hoteps or Nation of Islam brothas that hawked bean pies on the corner with the Final Call. But little did she know it meant more than that. That's why she has to track him down and kill him... before the baby in her belly can turn into his kind.

Word count: Novella length, so get your wine and snacks and enjoy!

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

Part 11

Part 12

Part 13

Part 14

Part 15

[violetmuses]

Terry Richmond + Female Reader ❤️‍🩹

Fandom: “Rebel Ridge” Film Universe

Character: Terry Richmond

Main Storyline: Your “best friend” offers some news.

@episodes-ff @becauseimswagman1 @helloncrocs @diaries-of-me @liquorlaughslove @babybratzmaraj @cloveroctobers 🏷

This Idea 📞

====

2024

Blocking time off from work, you noticed that your cell phone started ringing out of nowhere.

Officer Jessica Sims from the Shelby Springs Police Department called.

“Jess?” Picking up this afternoon, you definitely responded.

“Girl! I'm so sorry for not reaching out, but guess what?” J's Southern accent revealed itself.

“Don't worry.” You're fully aware that the rural precinct struggled now. “What happened?”

“Think I found your husband.” Despite that police station keeping vintage technology, you noticed Jessica's humor loud and clear.

“Oh, God!” You nearly laughed out loud. “What are you talking about?”

“I helped out this man earlier and…” Jessica wouldn't go on.

“Spit it out, J!” You kept listening to her no matter what.

“I'm working, but we don't have reception outdoors.” Jessica cleared her throat for a moment. “He's fine.”

“Don't play matchmaker again.” You quickly rolled both eyes.

“Listen: Light eyes, in shape with service tattoos, and acts respectful.” Jessica detailed this man.

“Sounds too good to be true.” For once, you don't believe her.

“Visit tomorrow. He's still in town. Bye!” Jessica dropped the call before you could say anything else.

Here we go. You thought.

*****

Uniformed once more, Jessica traded this brief smile when you entered the department.

“I'm here. What's going on?” You spoke quietly en route to her desk.

“I'll explain everything.” Sims then faced your direction.

Just before you could sit down and learn gossip, the door opened again.

Leaving her desk behind, Jessica held your wrist and you both hid near one corner, watching whoever arrived.

“What's wrong?” Your voice immediately whispered to Jess.

“That's him!” As Jessica pointed upfront, her accent pulled all over again.

Uh-oh. This time around, you finally realized what Sims meant.

Remarkable eyes noticed the building and service tattoos inked along his muscular frame.

This morning, the handsome individual paired another tight shirt with jeans and sneakers.

“Go back to work. We'll talk soon.” You prompted Jessica to speak with this man.

“All right. Pardon me…” Jessica excused herself from your side and sat down, addressing the man.

******

“Who was that?” When Officer Jessica Sims found her longtime desk this morning, veteran Terry Richmond chuckled through his deep tone.

“My friend…” Jessica would pull this vague response.

“I could use some good news at this point.” Terry encouraged Jessica. “What were y'all talking about?”

“Nothing.” Jess shrugged while beginning to work as usual. “How are you holding up with the case?”

“No better than before.” Richmond lost bail money for his cousin during an altercation with law enforcement. “Know any lawyers if I can't reach out on Monday?”

“Attorneys pool from the local courthouse, but workloads get swamped over there.” Jessica declined.

“Fair enough, but you didn't answer my other question.” Terry arched his brow.

“Which question?” Jessica asked.

“What were y'all talking about?” Catching Sims red-handed, Terry's smile offered brightness.

“Should I tell the truth?” Jessica spoke up for many reasons.

“I don't appreciate falsehoods.” Terry crossed both arms.

“You.” Jessica stopped playing around and headed out for lunch. “Good luck with your case.”

Right when Officer Sims walked away, Terry glanced down and noticed a sticky note waiting on her desk.

Jessica had discreetly written your phone number on paper.

******

“Sorry.” Terry apologized when you first met him up close. Drama flew all over the police station now.

“Everyone hopes for better circumstances around here.” You picked up Richmond and started driving away from this hospital.

On the other hand, medics helped legal assistant Summer McBride for various reasons.

“Sims told me about you.” Terry changed the subject.

“Surprised you didn't call me first.” You know that Jessica slipped your phone number by this man.

“Chief got in the way.” Richmond almost laughed and chided Sandy Burne.

“Where should we go since you're free?” You learned that Terry confirmed this settlement for this case, especially with his cousin Mike gone.

“Anywhere you want.” Terry grinned toward you and watched the city limits disappear.

[violetmuses]

18+ MINORS DNI 👀 @nahimjustfeelingit-writes

House Calls.

Summary: Aaliyah has an elusive charm that can be alluring to some and frustrating to others. Professor Terry is compelled to have her. On one fateful evening at his college buddies bachelor party, he runs into Aaliyah. An interaction he hadn’t imagined would ever happen.

Warnings: SMUT, 18+ CONTENT, based off of Players Club, Nasty Talk, Professor!Student. ANGST.

Part three

1999:

Walking into a hair salon was an interesting experience. Pulling into an overly stuffed parking lot in futile anticipation of being in and out “in a decent time.” opening the salon door and walking into a room overflowing with peering eyes full of a mixture of both curiosity and judgment that covers you from your head to the bottom of your favorite shoes. Slinking down into chairs that go from stuffed and comfortable to hard as steel while waiting for the appointment that was due more than an hour ago. Out bursts of group laughter, “girllll, no she didn’t!” and “say what now?!” coupled with the familiar smell of hair sheen spray and neutralizing shampoo that seeps through the fog of sporadic steam that fills the air from the super-wattage, neck-burning hair dyers, steamers and marcel ‘top of your ear frying’ irons, reminds you that this is going to be long day.

Aaliyah Noelle Davenport sat in an unoccupied salon chair within a popular salon in Baton Rouge called Gina’s. Gina’s had been around for over ten years. The pages of her coloring book she was currently scribbling in with old crayons kept her busy so she wouldn’t go snooping around like last time. She burned her fingers touching a curling iron heater.

“He’s back home…coming to pick Aaliyah up in a few…”

Aaliyah’s mother, Rochelle, was currently doing a roller set on a client. She worked the rollers around thick strands of hair with her long, curved, golden nails. Rochelle was a hard working woman. She did hair and worked night shifts at a local motel to pay the bills. Anything to make up for Aaliyah’s father being in prison for six years.

She was the epitome of 90s fine: Rochelle embodied a beauty that was both timeless and undefinable, leaving a permanent imprint on anyone that crossed her path. Her unique blend of elegance, confidence, and charisma inspired and resonated with Aaliyah. That kind of fine isn’t just about looks — it’s about attitude, style, and an effortless grace.

“Make the money, don’t let it make you. Money can't make you anything…only your actions can make you something. Money can buy you things that make life easier but one thing it can’t buy is happiness…”

“Girl, stop acting like you ain’t happy he back home...”

One of her mother’s friends and fellow stylist, Donna, was flipping through one of many hair catalogs the shop owned.

“The less he know the better,” Rochelle added the final touches before she walked her client over to the hooded dryers, “It was one time, that’s it…”

“Rochelle, if you don’t calm your fucking nerves. He won’t ever find the fuck out if you don’t hush!”

“Okay, okay…shit–that’s him coming up right now. Aaliyah?”

“Mhm?” Aaliyah mumbled from her seat while coloring in a teddy bear.

“Your father is here…come on and get ya stuff. He’s gonna take you back to the house while I finish up. C’mon, little girl!”

Aaliyah frowned and pouted her lip while packing away her crayons and coloring book.

“Fix that face. You got homework to do…”

She climbed down from her seat and slipped her Barbie book bag over her shoulders. A candy painted Donk with shiny rims slowed to a stop outside of the salon and Aaliyah’s eyes lit up when she recognized her father’s low–cut ceasar with the deep waves. He shut his door and strolled over to the entrance of the salon with swagger.

Roland Davenport AKA Pressure. He was a smooth cat from Baton Rouge with a nefarious past and a deep love for his daughter. Aaliyah was his entire world.

“Is that my little girl! What’s up, Princess!”

He scooped up his six year old and spun her around. Aaliyah giggled joyfully while clinging onto her father’s crisp white tee. His skin was the deepest brown and blemish free. He flashed his pearly whites at her before giving her a kiss to the forehead. Roland put Aaliyah down and then he made his way over to Rochelle.

Aaliyah watched her parents hug each other affectionately. Their lips connected with a gluttonous passion. Roland’s hands roamed down to cuff Rochelle’s dump trunk and she squeezed his bulging biceps in return.

“Stop! Stop…I’m with a client…”

“How long ya gonna be, baby? I was thinking ‘bout taking my favorite girls out to eat.”

“Oh, yeah?” Rochelle grinned flirtatiously, “Where to?”

“It’s a surprise…”

Aaliyah’s parents talked for a few more minutes before her dad led her out of the salon hand in hand. She skipped along the way. Roland opened the back door and took her back pack so that she could buckle in.

“Daddy, I wanna sit up front.” Aaliyah protested with her sweet little voice, “Please?”

“Liyah. You can’t sit up here today. Maybe next time, okay?”

Aaliyah hung her head before fastening her seatbelt. Roland made his way to the drivers side and climbed in.

“How was school today?” Roland questioned, staring back at his daughter through the rear view mirror.

“Good.” Aaliyah flashed a grin with no two front teeth.

“That’s not what ya momma told me…”

Her smile disintegrated.

Aaliyah fiddled with her pleated, khaki uniform skirt. She avoided her father’s gaze, afraid he’d appear angry and she would be in big trouble.

“Look at me, Liyah…”

She did as she was told, staring up at her father.

“I’m not mad. You had every right to defend yourself. ‘Dem lil’ boys won’t mess with you again after what ya did…”

Aaliyah had been dealing with constant bullying from two little boys in her first grade class. They would pull her long plats, kick the back of her chair, call her names, and other cruel things that always resulted in her crying in the bathroom.

“Now if these lil’ niggas wanna have kids of their own someday, they better leave my daughter alone or I’m putting foot in ass…”

Roland made a silly face at Aaliyah and she couldn’t help but to smile and laugh.

“How ‘bout we make a pit stop to grab a snowball?”

“YAY!!!” Aaliyah cheered, her little arms up in the air like she’d just had a victory lap.

Roland cranked the radio, Sho Nuff by 8ball & MJG blasting through the speakers. Aaliyah could feel the seat beneath her vibrate. She watched her father rap the lyrics, a sudden gush of humid air flooding the car when he let the windows down. Roland extended his arm from the window to greet people he knew, the Chevrolet Impala Donk slow gliding through the hood.

They pulled up to a snowball stand that was situated next to a bowling alley and roller-skate rink. Rolland turned his music down before looking back at Aaliyah over the headrest of his seat.

“Which flavor?”

“Georgia Peach!”

“Aight, munchkin. I’ll be back…”

Roland climbed out of the car, shutting the door behind him. Aaliyah peered out of the open window, her eyes following her father’s retreating frame. What she hadn’t noticed, however, was the way an all black Escalade crept up, all four doors opening in unison.

Everything went in slow motion.

Repeated muzzle flashes sparked the air like it was the Fourth of July.

RAT–rat-rat-rat-rat!!!

Her scream pierced the air.

——

Those memories flooded Aaliyah’s mind that Wednesday morning. She’d woken up in good spirits, ready for her Ethics and Psychology class and a lunch date with a special someone. After showering, Aaliyah slipped on a pair of light grey leggings that molded into her hips, thighs, and booty. She paired it with a fitted, white T-shirt and low top Vans. Glasses on, messy hair pinned back with a claw clip, she threw on a denim jacket and collected her school bag near the front door.

Before she could even leave, a hard, booming knock on the storm door of her Shotgun House caused her forehead to wrinkle with surprise. She paused for a second before walking up to the door. Aaliyah brought one dark brown eye to the peephole.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Aaliyah flinched.

“Aaliyah! Open the door! I know you’re here!”

It was her junkie mother.

She didn’t look like herself.

Acne, dull skin, and self-inflicted wounds from picking at her face. Needle marks and collapsed veins from shooting up.

Rochelle was unrecognizable.

One look at her, and all the trauma from her youth flooded her mind. After her father was shot down, Rochelle went into a deep state of depression. She lost her job at the salon, and the pay checks from her motel job didn’t keep the bills paid. Rochelle had no choice but to seek help from a man. Any man that was willing. She sent Aaliyah away at the age of ten for a few years to live with her estranged grandmother, Ruby. Ruby was a strict, Christian woman with no tolerance for misbehavior or rebellion. She lived in a different Parrish in rural Louisiana, closer to Shelby Springs.

Aaliyah was made to do yard and farm work. She had Bible studies on weekends and couldn’t hang with many children because their parents weren’t ‘Godly Folk’. The only thing Aaliyah really enjoyed was horseback riding whenever her grandmother would visit a church friend. When Aaliyah was nearing fourteen, she started sneaking out to see an older boy. Word got around and Ruby lashed out on Aaliyah.

“I didn’t have sex with him! We were just kissing!”

Aaliyah wailed, hands raised to brace herself from her grandmother’s blows.

“You’re just like your mother! Can’t keep your legs closed! Don’t lie to me, Aaliyah! I know you slept with that boy!” Ruby shouted.

She couldn’t stay there any longer. Aaliyah called her mother that same night, begging her to come get her. Rochelle drove an hour out and when Ruby opened her door, Rochelle shoved past her mother.

“You put your hands on my child?! You evil bitch!”

Aaliyah watched from the top of the stairs with her packed bags. Rochelle and Ruby were in the middle of a screaming match.

“You asked for my help, remember?! She lives under my roof, she abides by my rules!” Ruby argued.

“But did I ask you to beat on my child?! Just the same ol’ shit with you! I can’t even rely on you to be there for my daughter—”

“OH! Now look who’s talking. You couldn’t even get your shit together after Roland died to be a mother. Which man is it now paying the bills, Rochelle?! Look at all this,” Ruby pointed to Rochelle’s jewelry and designer, “Don’t look like you struggling to me.”

Rochelle remained silent, scornful eyes glaring at Ruby.

“Aaliyah! Let’s go…”

She hadn’t seen her mother in almost four years. Rochelle looked…fancy.

“Sully is in the car…He drove me here…I missed you, Liyah…”

Ruby watched with folded arms. She locked eyes with Aaliyah, a look of guilt flashing across her face for just a second. They left without a backwards glance.

Aaliyah was very careful around Sully. He was a drug dealer, bringing home money and gifts to spoil Aaliyah. She became used to the revolving door of other criminals entering her home. She was just happy to with her mother again. Aaliyah focused on her studies and poured herself into cheerleading and hip hop majorette.

Eventually, things started to go downhill. Rochelle was introduced to harder drugs, Sully owed people money and he had gambling debts. Things in their home started to disappear, bills were piling up, and Sully turned violent. It took for Ruby and Aaliyah to fight back for Sully to finally leave. It opened the same wound of her father’s death, Rochelle unable to stay strong. Rochelle’s addiction became worse, so bad to the point that she would steal from her own daughter.

Aaliyah couldn’t handle it. As soon as she graduated high school, she got her own place and left her mother behind. It broke her heart, but in order for her to evolve, she needed to break free. Aaliyah hated working at Hooters, and when she turned twenty–six, she started stripping at Crazy Horse.

“Make the money, don’t let it make you…”

Aaliyah opened the front door, but the storm door remained locked. Aaliyah stared down at her mother. Rochelle looked desperate and more frail than the last time she showed up. She’d relapsed again.

“Hey, baby…”

Rochelle pressed her hands against the door.

“Can you help me? I need some cash—”

“I gave you five hundred dollars when I last saw you, momma. I see you back on that shit again…”

Rochelle hung her head in shame.

“I’m trying, Aaliyah. You don’t understand how hard it is.”

“You’ve tried for over twenty years now. I’m tired of helping you and all you do is use me. Weren’t you staying with Mama Ruby?”

She definitely wasn’t staying with Aaliyah.

“I can’t stay wit’ you?”

“Hell no.” Aaliyah quipped.

“I’m your fucking mother!”

“Did you forget what happened the last time you lived with me?! You stole shit from my house! I don’t trust you!”

Aaliyah didn’t need this. She had to go to school.

“Please…please, Li–Li. I’m hungry…I’m broke…pleaseeee…”

Aaliyah stared her mother down with a venomous glance. There will always be a soft spot for Rochelle, but the repeated hurt was exhausting. Seeing her mother like this broke her heart. She just couldn’t stop using.

“Okay…”

Aaliyah opened her storm door. Rochelle slipped inside quickly. Aaliyah kept a watchful eye on her mother while she admired Aaliyah’s cozy home.

“C’mon…”

They entered Aaliyah’s kitchen. Rochelle climbed onto a bar stool, peering around with a nervous look. Aaliyah opened her fridge, bringing out leftover catfish and grits she’d prepared last night for dinner.

“That piece right there…yeah…”

Aaliyah rolled her eyes.

She gave her mother the thickest piece of catfish and a good portion of cheesy grits. While the food heated, Aaliyah reclined her plush bottom against the counter. She stared her mother down, unable to shake the pain that fought to bubble to the surface.

“How’s school?” Rochelle questioned, unable to avoid picking at her skin.

Aaliyah tampered down her resentment and cleared her throat to speak.

“Good. I’ll be graduating in June.”

“That’s good, baby. Real good…June…How many tickets you gettin’?”

“Uhm,” Aaliyah checked on the catfish, “Not really sure yet.”

“Still dancing?”

Aaliyah rubbed her arms.

“No.”

The smell of the crispy fish wafted her mother’s nose. Aaliyah opened the oven to retrieve it. The grits on the stove top were nice and smooth now. After plating the food, Aaliyah wrapped it with aluminum foil and slid it across the kitchen island to her mother. She opened her pantry to grab a plastic fork and knife, securing it with some paper towels before holding it out towards her mother.

“I can’t sit here and eat?”

“You know you can’t…”

“Aaliyah—”

“Look, I have class. I’m gon’ miss it if you don’t take this shit and leave—”

“LOOK,” Rochelle stood, “I’m sorry you hate me so much. I’m sorry about all that shit, but I’m still your mother, Li–Li.”

“Oh? Last time I remember you being a mother was when I was six years old. Anything after that don’t count.” Aaliyah fired back.

Rochelle parted her cracked lips to speak, but her words stilled in her throat. Her tears flowed down her face and she wiped them away with the back of her dingy sleeve. Aaliyah stood before her with a rigid expression.

“Okay, I’ll leave…”

Rochelle grabbed her plate of food and Aaliyah stepped out of the way for her to walk in front of her. Tears prickled her eyes but she hastily pulled herself together. Aaliyah followed her mother towards the front door. She opened it, unable to reach her mother’s gaze.

“I love you, Li–Li…”

A solemn tear cascaded down Aaliyah’s face.

“…think you could look out for me?”

Aaliyah released a sigh before reaching into her bag. She plucked out whatever cash she had– one hundred and fifty dollars– handing it over to her mother.

Rochelle accepted it shamefully.

“Thank you, Li–Li. Take care of yourself…”

——

Professor Richmond carried his brown leather briefcase with him into the lecture hall. There were already students present the more he approached his desk in his brown dress shoes. His oceanic eyes swept the rows of students, his gaze zeroed into a vacant desk. Bringing his Apple Watch up, he was right on schedule. She would be arriving late today it seems.

Terry couldn’t go the remainder of his weekend into the early weekday without Aaliyah crossing his mind. She invaded and consumed him without her physical presence. He was two grand broker and overjoyed. He’d spend more on her in a millisecond. That shapely body is a walking sin. He found himself daydreaming of how it would feel to press his muscles into the softness of her curves. How would the curl of his biceps feel around her thighs? The ridges of his abdomen beneath her hands as she explored?

“I hope you all read up on Darwin and The Moral Sense. We’re jumping straight into discussion…”

Terry removed his navy blue suit jacket, then he rolled up the sleeves to his white, button down shirt that he wore tucked into matching navy blue slacks. He used a red Expo marker to write: Chapter Three of The Descent of Man. After capping the marker, he turned his attention to the class. With his pointer finger, he pushed his glasses back from the bridge of his nose.

“The keystone significance of morality in human distinctness is clearly asserted by Darwin in the first sentence…and the quote says….”

Terry snapped his fingers before pointing at a student within the second row with their hand raised. A white male with wooly, dark brown hair and a hooked nose.

“I fully subscribe to the judgment of those writers who maintain that of all the differences between man and the lower animals—”

“The moral sense of conscience is by far the most important, correct, James. But why is that?”

He cast his penetrating eyes across his students before flicking his gaze at the door. Another student bravely raised their hand and Terry motioned for them to speak. He continued to lecture shortly after that.

“We know from his notebooks that Darwin was reading the contemporary philosophical literature about moral behavior in 1837…”

As he continued, pacing in front of his desk, hands in the pockets of his slacks, the absence of Aaliyah weighed heavy on him. Minutes ticked away and soon enough, class was dismissed. Terry spoke with a student after class about the grade he’d given them for the midterm paper before packing away his things and leaving.

He made it back to his makeshift office space, shut the door and shuffled inside, careful not to knock his briefcase into stacks of decades old textbooks and files. With his thumb and pointer finger, he flicked on his table lamp, a yellow glow igniting the space. The swivel chair situated at his rectangular, wooden desk creaked slight as he settled down. Terry cracked his wrists, a habit of his when he felt too wound up.

iPhone in hand, he found Aaliyah’s contact.

“Here,” Terry handed Aaliyah his phone, “Put your number in.”

Aaliyah stared up at Terry through her curled lashes with a smile that enticed him into a further aroused state. She held out her small hand and made a come hither motion. Terry felt his phone slip from his fingertips and watched her with a sharp gaze and a slight smirk. She typed away, and he caught her eye before she saved it.

Terry texted her phone later that evening and Aaliyah replied with a kiss emoji.

Terry: Goodnight, Beautiful ❤️

Aaliyah: Nite Professor 😘

He texted her on Sunday, not saying much, just a simple greeting. He didn’t want to come off too strong, although he was fiendish for her attention.

Terry: Hi, Aaliyah. Hope you slept well ❤️ Any plans for today?

Aaliyah: Hi 😏 slept well thanks for asking. how was your sleep? & I’m currently out to brunch with friends.

Terry: You’re welcome. had a great rest. Brunch is fun. I’m sure you look great 😌

Aaliyah: I do 😉

Terry: SO BEAUTIFUL 😍

Aaliyah: Thank you ❤️ can’t wait to see you on Wednesday.

Terry: I’m looking forward to it ❤️

Terry sent Aaliyah a new text.

Terry: Hey, is everything okay?

It wasn’t like her to miss class. Terry unfastened the first few buttons of his shirt. He stood to stretch his sore legs from his workout earlier, easing his way over to the only window in his office. Terry looked out the window. The sky was tar-black and the large clouds seemed as if they were moving towards him. He heard a tapping on the window and then it became a pitter-patter. People ran for cover outside and umbrellas were opened as the clouds spat out their beads of water. Puddles began plinking as the rainfall became heavier. The roofs of the cars danced with spray and he could hear the murmuring of the rain through the window. It sounded like the buzzing of angry bees.

Buzz Buzz

Terry back tracked to his desk, reaching over and grabbing his phone.

Aaliyah: I’m sorry I missed class, Terry. Everything isn’t okay actually. I wasn’t feeling it. Can I call you?

Terry: Yes

He answered immediately.

Terry took a seat, “Hello?”

“Hi…”

Her voice sent chills down his spine.

Terry sensed her sadness.

“Want to talk about it?”

“…Can we still meet for lunch?”

“We can. It’s raining pretty bad out. Sure you’ll be okay driving?”

“I’ll be fine, I’m standing on my back porch right now…looks like it’s slowing down.”

“Okay. Uh…I was thinking Noir. It’s a nice jazz inspired restaurant and it’s a great vibe for cozy and intimate dining. Do you need me to pick you up?”

“No, that’s okay. I can meet you there. I know Noir.”

“Okay, drive safely, love.” Terry said.

“I will, you too. See you there.”

——

Noir didn’t have many patrons that afternoon, and Terry wasn’t complaining. He scooted himself into a booth, the dim light hanging above him so dull as if a shade had been cast upon it. His wet dress shoes squeaked slightly as he made himself comfortable. Terry ordered two filtered waters with lemon and hot water to soak the silverware. His legs swung back and forth beneath the booth table anxiously. Eyes that appeared turquoise glanced towards the entrance and he made out the silhouette of Aaliyah Davenport entering.

She must’ve gotten caught in the rain. She was dressed casually, a large Louis Vuitton tote bag over her right shoulder and a denim jacket flung over her left arm. She paused, eyes searching for Terry. He leaned further out of the booth and waved her down. Aaliyah fixed her gaze on him and a small smile graced her beautiful lips. Terry watched her saunter over, and the further she approached, the more her smile brightened.

Terry stood, fixing his pants since they had ridden up on his thighs and bulged around his crotch. Aaliyah slowed down to a stop before him, an awkward pause with nervous glances between them. Ultimately, Terry opened his arms and Aaliyah giggled before wrapping her arms around him. Terry caught a whiff of her hair; coconut and hibiscus. Mmm…he could feel the slight dampness of her curls through his dress shirt.

Her T-shirt beneath his fingertips was slightly wet from the rain droplets. Aaliyah broke away from him and gave him one last look before settling into the booth. Terry followed, situated across from her. He loved how natural and beautiful she looked. Her curls were slightly heat damaged at the ends, giving it personality. She wasn’t wearing her glasses today, Terry able to enjoy those pretty brown eyes again. Her hoop earrings swung as she swept hair from her eyes.

“I ordered us some water for now if that’s okay.” Terry mentioned.

“That’s ‘awrite with me, Professor.”

She has such a cute voice. Honeyed.

“I hope I didn’t miss anything crucial. I’m sorry.” Aaliyah apologized.

“Don’t be. We discussed chapter three…have you read it?”

“I have. No assignments?” Aaliyah replied.

“No—Aaliyah, what’s wrong?”

He didn’t care to talk about class. He wanted to know what was bothering her. She looked so saddened. It didn’t sit right with him.

“Uh…it’s a lot. I don’t wanna pour my shit out on you.”

“I’m willing to listen, if you’ll let me. No pressure…”

Aaliyah tilted her head and considered his words. Their water arrived and the waiter was ready to take their orders. Aaliyah hadn’t even looked over the menu.

“Give us another minute, please? Thanks…”

Aaliyah started flipping through the menu. The conical body of the saxophone in the background soothing.

Terry decided to order them an appetizer. Mini crab bites. He wasn’t too sure what to order for lunch.

“Do you like crab bites?” Terry asked.

“I do. That sounds good,” Aaliyah peered up at him with a timid smile, “I was thinking of getting a salmon ceasar salad.”

“Tasty,” Terry stroked his goatee, “I’ll probably do a shrimp Po’Boy.”

Their waiter circled back and Terry ordered everything. Alone again, they sipped their water and caught each other’s eye. Aaliyah pushed the wedge of lemon in her glass down further with her straw. She released a sigh before leaning against the table.

“My momma showed up today. Right when I was leaving for school.”

“Ya’ momma? I take it you’re not happy about that…”

Aaliyah’s eyes glistened. Terry wanted to reach out and stroke her soft cheek.

“My mom is a drug addict. Been an addict since I was sixteen.”

Terry allowed what she revealed to him to settle into his mind. He gave her a slow nod, and his eyes fixated on her deeper.

Aaliyah continued with a shaky voice, “After my father was killed, she became depressed and she blamed herself for the longest time. I was there when it happened…saw the whole thing,” Aaliyah rubbed her arms, “He hadn’t even been out of prison for a year and he was shot…”

Terry watched her straighten her back and sniffle, trying her best to calm herself down.

“My momma’s been in and out of rehab. I’ve help her, my grandmomma helped her…she stole from me, disappointed me every single time…” Aaliyah stared down at her hands, “And all she can think to do is show up on my doorstep with her hands out. That broke me.”

Terry twisted his full lips and his eyes fell to her hands. He watched the way her fingers fiddled. With an impulse so strong, he covered her hands with his much larger ones, stroking them with his thumbs. Aaliyah watched the way his hands worked to sooth her. Like he was massaging the stress out of her. Aaliyah exhaled, and then she locked eyes with Terry.

“I love her so much…”

“I know you do, I can see it…I can feel it.” Terry spoke softly.

He released her hands so she could thumb away a tear.

“I’m so sorry, Aaliyah. Sorry about your father. Sorry about your mom…”

“Thank you, Terry. I really appreciate it. I know this is supposed to be a nice lunch. I feel like I’m ruining it with my fuckin’ bullshit.”

“There’s nothing ruined, love. I’m happy you felt comfortable enough to open up to me about it. I just don’t like seeing you like this…your mom isn’t willing to get help?”

“That’s the thing,” Aaliyah took a sip of her water to help get rid of the lump in her throat, “She’s been in and out of rehab plenty of times. It’s this guy she keeps running back to. I don’t really remember his name…all I know is that he’s a dealer. She’s always had a thing for criminals.”

“Your grandmother, what’s up with that?—am I asking too many questions?”

“No, no,” Aaliyah shook her head, “My grandma is…her and my mom have always had a strained relationship. She’s attempted to help, but it never works out. There’s a lot of unresolved issues and my mom just can’t stick around long enough to deal wit’ it, ya know?”

“I get it. What was your father like?”

Aliyah frowned slightly, “He was so funny. Had so much swagger to ‘em. Loved cars. He got himself mixed up in some shit. He was doing a favor for a friend that turned out to be a robbery and it landed him in prison.”

She had this faraway look in her eyes, as if she were recalling the nostalgic feeling of being with her dad.

“…I saw him…die…and…” Aaliyah exhaled, “Took me a while to shake it…”

“Damn,” Terry hung his head, “Aaliyah, that’s heavy…”

Terry squeezed her hands and sought out her gaze. Aaliyah looked across at him and a single tear cascaded down her cheek. Terry released her hand and lifted from his seat, scooting in next to her. He snatched up a few napkins and dabbed her face gently.

“It’s okay…it’s okay, Aaliyah…so sorry…”

One hand rubbed her shoulder while she bawled up the used napkin in her hand. With one last sniffle, Aaliyah turned her brown eyes that reminded him of cognac through a glass and just then, she leaned in and those lips he’d desired to feel grazed his cheek with a feather–like touch before molding into his skin with a pressure so soothing his eyelash’s fluttered in satisfaction.

“Thanks for listening,” Aaliyah whispered in his ear.

Terry turned his head at an angle towards her. He gave her a searing, sideways glance.

“You’re welcome. Anytime…”

“Crab bites…”

Startled, Terry leaped up from his seat and returned to his side of the booth. Aaliyah thanked the waiter and they put in their orders. Terry and Aaliyah shared the appetizer. After chewing, Aaliyah licked her lips before speaking.

“Tell me a little more about Terry Richmond.”

Terry gave Aaliyah an attractive half–smirk. 

“Ask me and you shall receive.”

“Why teaching? Is that something you’ve always had a passion for?”

“That’s a really good question. Uh…yes. I was an instructor when I spent time in the Marines. I trained Marines for combat and firearms. Each day was new and exciting. I’ve always had this…desire to share knowledge, inspire others, and make a positive impact. Although my pops wanted me to continue into the Marines, I fell in love with Psychology. So…I got my PhD a year ago, and here I am.”

Aaliyah sat her face into her hands with her elbows propped up on the table, listening to him like he was retelling a fairytale story. Her eyes sparkled with joy at listening to him drone on about moving to North Carolina with his parents after Katrina, enlisted into the Marines, finished his undergrad, living there up until the age of twenty–seven before he moved back to Louisiana to attend LSU. Both of his parents are still together and living in North Carolina. Their food arrived and they tucked in, talking in between bites.

Terry was happy that Aaliyah is in better spirits. She smiled and giggled and it warmed his heart. She thanked him for cheering her up. Terry was honored. The topic veered to hobbies and interests. Aaliyah shared that she used to be a majorette dancer.

“Fishing? Living outdoors? Wow. I grew up doing farm work and riding horses but nothing that deep,” Aaliyah responded with a giggle.

“I can take you sometime…show you what it’s like.”

Terry cocked his head to the side and stared at Aaliyah. She held onto his gaze, the tip of her tongue peeking through her teeth. Terry wanted to wrap his full lips around her tongue and suck on it.

“So…is it a date then? Taking me fishing and camping, Professor?” Aaliyah teased.

“I’ll take you anywhere,” Terry slurped down some water.

“Anywhere?” Aaliyah dragged out with her cutesy voice and lips twinged with a sultry smile.

“Anywhere…anything for you.”

“I like the sound of that,” Aaliyah smiled, “You’ve earned the privilege to spoil me.”

They laughed in unison.

“How did I earn it, exactly?” Terry quirked a brow up and narrowed his eyes playfully.

“Giving me two thousand dollars cash was enough to let me know,” Aaliyah replied bluntly.

Terry chucked. He licked his lips, eyes scanning the space before he lowered his voice an octave, “You liked that, huh?”

“More than you’ll ever know…”

“Let me know, girl…”

Aaliyah tucked her chin and giggled.

“Let me know…” Terry persisted.

“I didn’t like it I love it. I’m a princess and I should be treated accordingly.”

Terry’s eyelids lowered slightly. He leaned in on his arms, eyes roaming her body before staring into her eyes again. He felt a sensation so deep within his ripped core. Something akin to butterflies. Aaliyah excited him. That mouth on her…he loved it.

“The minute I laid my eyes on you at that bachelor party…you were gettin’ all my money…”

“Good, that’s what I wanted,” Aaliyah nibbled on her straw with a teasing smile.

Terry licked his lips. He stared at her through his spectacles while his fingers drummed against the table slowly. Aaliyah sat her glass down and leaned back against the booth.

Staring.

They were practically eye–fucking each other.

Beneath that table, Aaliyah took it upon herself to run her pointed, left foot up Terry’s right leg. She did it achingly slow. It traveled up and up until she stopped with her foot propped up against his seat between his legs. Terry did one lazy sweep of his eyes over her foot and his teeth latched onto his bottom lip.

”Aaliyah…”

“Huh?”

Terry was going to lose it. Lose all his control. He was itching to walk her to the back of the restaurant, push her into a bathroom stall, and beat that fat pussy up with her chest against the door and his large hands keeping her pinned in place and stable on that dick.

“If I could tell you how beautiful you are…how gorgeous you are a million times I would. The moment I laid eyes on you at the beginning of the semester…I couldn’t ignore it. The feeling. I just knew that I had to have you…”

Aaliyah sat transfixed by his words. Lips slightly parted, eyes misty. He loved that look on her face. He wanted her to look at him like that in a kneeled position with his dick hanging in her face waiting to be tended to.

The thoughts in his mind…

“Wow,” Aaliyah chuckled breathlessly, “You want me that bad, huh? Wow…”

She acted as if a man never pined for her so deep like Terry. His unspoken energy even spoke volumes.

He. Needed. Aaliyah.

Professor or not.

“You don’t even know…”

“Mm,” Aaliyah shut her eyes and nibbled on her bottom lip. Her eyes opened slowly, “Terry…you gotta stop.”

They chuckled, Aaliyah’s thighs clenching beneath the table and Terry’s thighs swinging back and forth.

“Why stop?” Terry whispered.

Aaliyah kisses her teeth, “‘Cause…”

Her cute voice was enough to make the tip of his dick respond. He could feel himself leaking.

Thank God the waiter returned with the check. Terry paid the tab, and Aaliyah looked at him, not quite ready to go. Terry didn’t want to, but he had an evening course starting within the next hour or so and he needed to head back to campus.

Fuck that class. Look what’s in front of of you, nigga…

“You ready?” Terry questioned reluctantly.

——

They hadn’t even made it out of Noir for two seconds before it started again. They quickened their pace as the clouds began to gather in the sky. Up to now, the sky had been postcard-perfect, but it was changing. The beautiful cocktail-blue shade was beginning to darken into gravel-grey. Large pillows of clouds were forming, blotting out the old-gold colour of the sun.

Aaliyah got the first splatter of rain when she was halfway across the parking lot. She took shelter under her Jean jacket, hoping that she could see out past the shower. Terry’s brawny bicep pulled her closer while he covered himself with his own jacket. Droplets of moisture began to drip from the leaves. They were sprinkling onto the concrete like a gardener’s hose. Then the rainfall became more intense. A wall of rain moved over the oak trees and the drops were drumming against the tops of cars. So much rain was falling that the sound blurred into one long, whirring noise. It reminded her of the rotor blades on a helicopter.

Terry’s truck was closer. He rushed to fling the door opened, helping Aaliyah inside before sprinting to his side and climbing in. He slammed the door shut before tossing his drenched suit jacket onto the back seat. The humidity caused the car windows to fog as it poured. Eventually, the noise lessened and the drops faded into a musical chime. They sought out each other’s gaze and laughed.

Aaliyah threw her head back and sighed with contempt. This was a great lunch date. She was so happy she came. After bawling her eyes out about her mother, she needed some fun. Terry was more than just his looks. He was so refreshing. Such a gentleman. Hard working. So deeply fascinated with her. And it was more than just a lustful gaze. A gaze Aaliyah was more than used to. No. This man wanted her.

Aaliyah turned her cheek against the headrest to watch him. Terry felt her eyes and he gave her his undivided attention.

“I want to see you again, as soon as possible, Aaliyah.”

The urgency in his voice let her know he was a man about action.

“I’ll let you know what my days are looking like…okay?”

Terry hummed. The sound vibrated her core. He was impatient.

“Why not check on that now? Friday for an hour and thirty minute class ain’t enough.”

The bite in his voice sounded so much different from his professional tone. Aaliyah was stunned.

“Okay,” She pulled out her phone from her bag, “I have plans Saturday with friends…”

“Friday night?”

“Nothing.” Aaliyah replied.

“Then how about Friday? I’ll take you to dinner.”

“I have to study, Terry.” Aaliyah said, a playful glint in her eyes.

Aaliyah clocked the way Terry’s chest rose and fell with each deep breath. She imagined what he looked like beneath his business attire. Her imagining could only conjure up enough for her to fantasize about. She needed to see the real thing. Up close. Touch on him and memorize the planes and valleys of muscle threatening to bring the freak out of her. He looked like he could bench press and squat three times her size and Aaliyah wanted to test that theory. In many positions.

“I’ll help you study.”

“Isn’t that cheating?!” Aaliyah replied.

“It’s called tutoring, baby girl.”

Baby girl? Oh fucking hell…

Aaliyah became acutely aware of her nipples hardening. So did Terry. His eyes were glued to her breasts sitting up and jutted out.

Terry reached down beside him and his seat reclined back. Aaliyah’s heart skipped a beat. He gave her a pointed look. Aliyah’s eyes fell to his inviting lap…and a rather mountainous bulge…

It was as if the blood coursing through his body carried downward and pooled into his…

The veins in his arms…she could see them clearer now. His large hands resting against his thighs…that man spread…she felt a buzzing in her ears. The silent dominance in his posture…

Aaliyah lifted from her seat in a frenzy, Terry scooped her up with one powerful arm around her waistline and Aaliyah climbed over his lap. She sat herself snugly over his thick bulge that protruded from the crotch of his navy blue slacks like an eruption was waiting to happen. Her fat pussy sat on that protrusion and her breath hitched.

“Professor…”

Terry’s large hands double–cuffed her thick ass and he forced his grip upward, arching her back. Those thick, long fingers sank into the plump flesh as he groped her. One hand above her, pressed against the roof of the car, Aaliyah allowed the feeling of him squeezing and jiggling her cakes to consume her.

His glasses had fogged up. Their mingled, uneven breaths along with the sound of the leather seats filled the space between them. Aaliyah felt his hands smooth around to the junction between her thighs and booty and he applied force, making her ass move on its own—left cheek, right cheek— peering down over her shoulder while she was pressed against him. Aaliyah had her feet folded over his knees.

“Ughhh….”

A deep grunt followed by his arms wrapping around her waist tight. Biceps cutting into her back. The new position had Aaliyah sitting over his print harder. They sat like that for a few minutes, Terry’s nose was pressed against her neck, inhaling cool air and exhaling heated air that caused goosebumps to spread.

His arms loosened and Aaliyah tilted her head down to meet his eyes. She removed Terry’s glasses, resting them inside of his cup holder. The interior of his car smelled like blackberry clove and leather. He smelled like sandalwood. Those eyes. She got lost in them before tearing her gaze away to stare at his lips.

“Can I kiss you?” Terry asked softly.

Aaliyah closed the space between them and one of Terry’s hands tangled into her wet coils while his other hand sat above her ass. They gave each other an open–mouthed kiss filled with a feverish need for each other. Wet smacking noises sent signals of arousal. Eyes closed, heads swiveling, equally tasty and soft lips molding into each other’s. Aaliyah allowed her hands to run beneath his dress shirt and white better, coming into contact with warm skin stretched over an impressive physique.

“Unh…”

She found herself moaning.

A single finger of Terry’s traced the waistline of her leggings. The sensation caused her body to shiver. Aaliyah sat up, leaning back against his steering wheel. Terry locked eyes with her while his fingers brushed from her waist down to her pussy. The heat radiating from there could have added to the fog on the windows .

“You deserve so much…you’re so fuckin’ sexy…”

Aaliyah adjusted herself to tilt her body against his so that Terry could put his hand down her leggings.

“Damn…it’s like that, baby?”

“Uh-huh…”

Terry’s hand cupped her fat pussy through her thong. Aaliyah clung to his shoulders while holding his gaze. Terry’s tongue—thick and pink—poked out and Aaliyah accepted the invitation of touching tongues with him. His fingers moved her panties to the side. He grunted into Aaliyah’s mouth.

“Damn…damn…”

His fingers rubbed up and down. Aaliyah spread her thighs further.

“There you go…nasty girl… spreading your legs like that…want me to touch all over this pussy…I like that…”

His words. She whimpered when his fingers started doing that up and down motion between her swollen labia and over her stiff clit. Aaliyah couldn’t believe how wet her pussy is. Creamy viscous spread all over her.

“Unh…Terry…”

“This what you think about? You think about me expressing how much I want you with my fingers in your pussy?…”

Two fingers sank deep. Aaliyah’s mouth dropped open. Terry’s brows furrowed and his eyes would flicker from her face to his hand moving up and down in her leggings.

“Aaliyah…this lil’ pussy tight, girl…I can’t believe I’m fingering you right now…”

He looked like he couldn’t believe it. Jade eyes intense.

“It’s s–s–so, wet…”

His words stuttered out in disbelief.

“My pussy like you just as much as I do, Professor…”

Aaliyah chewed on her bottom lip and her head lulled back. She started bouncing on his fingers. Damn, she missed this. She missed being fingered the proper way. She ain’t have dick in almost a year. The last man to have her was a mistake and not even worth mentioning. All she could focus on was keeping her legs spread and that pussy open.

“Good girl…you follow directions well…I like that,” Terry dragged his teeth along his bottom lip, “Look at me, Aaliyah…”

She did as she was told.

“I played your little game. Now what?”

He was toying with her.

This man…this was another side to him she was more than excited to see.

“Now you make me cum…make me cum, Professor.”

Terry chuckled, “Make this pussy cum?”

His fingers were knuckle deep.

“Send me home in a puddle, Terry…”

“Mmm…that sweet, little voice gon’ get you in trouble…keep moaning…uh-huh…mhmmmm…”

Aaliyah clamped down on his fingers. She lowered her head over his headrest and rode out her orgasm. So intense. It hit her like a freight train. Terry pressed deeper, stroking a spot that had Aaliyah crying. Terry gently withdrew his fingers. Aaliyah’s breaths slowed down, but her body was still recovering from the after shocks.

His hand resurfaced just as the sun peered over the storm clouds. The aroma of her pussy and the cum clinging to his fingers flooded her nose in the best way. Terry held his manicured fingers up. Aaliyah locked her gaze on creamy–white goodness all over his fingers and dripping down to his wrist.

Terry played with it. Rubbing his fingertips together. Spreading his fingers to see how slimy it looked. Aaliyah watched him suck each finger while his eyes never left her face.

“I taste good?” Aaliyah asked with a smile.

“Fuckin’ amazing, baby…”

Terry licked his lips and Aaliyah leaned in to steal a kiss. They kissed for some time before Terry broke away. He released a growl of frustration.

“I gotta head back to campus…I have an exam for my next class…”

Aaliyah pecked his lips before climbing off his lap and into her seat. Terry had his lip pouted while fixing himself. Aaliyah giggled, her eyes dropping down to his neglected erection. He caught her watching, grabbing her wrist and sitting her hand over his bulge.

It…was…thick…

“It’s so big…”

Aaliyah explored, squeezing and stroking…Terry swiped his bottom lip with his tongue and closed his eyes for a second to gather himself. Aaliyah removed her hand and Terry looked over at her like he didn’t want her to stop. Ever. She didn’t want to go, but Terry needed to get back to Campus. The last thing she’d ever want to do is sabotage his career.

“I don’t want to leave, but it’s okay…I’ll see you Friday, right?” Terry questioned, grabbing Aaliyah’s hand and kissing the back of it over and over.

“Yes. I’ll be there…”

Terry made a come hither motion and Aaliyah obeyed, slipping him some final tongue before they parted ways. Terry put his glasses back on, giving Aaliyah one final look of longing. She knew she had to be the one to leave him behind because if she didn’t, he would have skipped the class and spent the rest of the day proving to her just how much he needed her.

“Bye, Professor.”

Aaliyah opened the car door. She hopped down from his truck, grabbing her jean jacket. She blew Terry a kiss before shutting his door and heading towards her Jeep.

She couldn’t stop thinking about the taste of her pussy on his tongue and her scent on his fingers while he lectured.

——

Aaliyah 🌹: Studying for an exam tomorrow. I’ll talk to you later, okay? I had a really great time today 😏 just might touch myself thinking about it. Sweet Dreams, Professor. Xoxoxo 👄

Terry moved towards his living room, an NBA game on in the background. He was shirtless with black joggers on and a durag over his short curls. A single gold cross chain sat in the middle of his pecs. The heels of his socked feet sat into the throw rug beneath him. He had grilled salmon, broccoli, and dirty rice for dinner.

Aaliyah.

That woman awakened something primal in him. Although his eyes bounced back and forth across the screen, his mind wandered to the way his taste buds craved more pussy. He had such a good time getting to know her. The way her lips felt like the softest cushion against his lips. The soft, little whimpers she made drove him crazy. He dragged a hand down his face.

He studiously ignored the monster in his joggers.

Could’ve been full of something else if you had just taken what was in front of you.

The game did nothing to calm down his body. He flipped through the channels looking for something, anything to distract himself from the length of his dick pulsing against his thigh. Terry shifted his hips on the couch, the fight to ignore it impossible.

“Send me home in a puddle, Terry.”

Terry could still hardly believe that he had Aaliyah in his lap, lips against hers, fingers deep in her pussy, and in public. The morbid excitement from earlier returned to him in tenfold, echoing in the throb of his manhood. He stared forward at the movements on his television unseeingly, fighting his mind as it tried to conjure up an image of himself between Aaliyah’s legs. Her pretty pussy gleaming at him naughtily making his mouth water. He wanted to be the only one to taste her for as long as he lived. To bury his face in between her buttery–smooth thighs to kiss, lick and tongue fuck her until she was a whimpering, quivering mess. His name a constant chant on her lips as she feebly tried to push him away after her orgasm. He wouldn’t stop. Not until all she wanted was him.

“Terry…Terry…right there, Terry…”

“Shit,” he grunted as he lifted his hips off the couch slightly, pulling his joggers down to his thighs, his engorged dick springing free, curving up to look at him. The purpling head waved in the air at him in greeting and invitation. Terry scrubbed a hand over his face at the sight, exasperated at his excitement for a girl he’d never seen naked and his inability to turn this shit off. Sleep wasn’t going to come easily to him if he didn’t take care of big boy first.

Terry’s eyes tracked a drop of precum as it dribbled over his head and down his pulsating shaft, collecting at his heavy balls. His dick was quite literally demanding attention, the veins overly pronoucned along the sides beating in time with his heart, and he was hard pressed not to give in. He hadn’t touched himself in a few days, work had kept him busy and the thoughts of Aaliyah after the bachelor party had given him a reason to. He quickly contemplated walking back to his room and using his fleshlight to get the job done before he decided against it. He was too needy to move now.

Tentative fingers ran over the velvety tip, collecting the beads of moisture there and spreading them around slowly. He closed his blue–gray eyes and pushed his head back into the sofa cushion with a flex of his hips. A harsh ‘fuck��� escaped his clenched teeth at the sensitivity. This was going to be quick, rough and lacking any of the finesse he usually showcased in any moment of sexual gratification. Even if that moment was just with him.

Terry’s dominant hand wrapped lightly around himself, trying to mimic how his Aaliyah would touch him, his other dragging over his exposed abdomen. His hand pulled down roughly, electing a low groan from him, as a fantasy bloomed in his mind. He could see her behind his lids that had fallen closed. Kneeling in front of him, between his parted thighs, bright eyes glued to his expression as she bit her lip in concentration. Watching him with that sassy look she got any time she wanted things her way.

Terry spread his knees as far as his joggers would allow, his hand twisting and pulling himself, gaining momentum with every tight pass of the head. Thumb coming up to swiped over the moist slit. Half curses spewed out of him as his pace quickens, his free hand coming down to fondle his sack. Rolling it between his fingers. The sensation doing nothing to abate his impending release.

“Fuccccckkk…..” his voice hitched and raised, battling with the enthusiastic wet sounds of his hand pumping.

His fantasy girl looked between him and his twitching dick, her hand moving as fast as he was. She licked her parted lips and leaned towards his thick pipe. Her warm breath only heightened his pleasure as she whispered to him lowly.

“Cum for me, Professor…”

And he did just that. His heels dug into the plush rug beneath him, using it for leverage as he fucked up into his hand, the coil in his belly growing tighter until it snapped. A croak of Aaliyah’s name bouncing off his walls. Thick spurts of warm cum landing haphazardly across his upper body didn’t deter him as he continued to drag his fist over his oozing dick until the motion became too much for his overly sensitive body. Legs shuddering with each pass.

Terry let go with a deep sigh, taut body relaxing slowly until he was sitting naturally in his seat. Terry glanced down at the evidence of his ecstasy littered across his chest, stomach and hand.

He huffed an annoyed laugh at how quickly his orgasm had taken him. And how hard his dick still was as it bobbed in front of him, his stamina was working against him this time around. With a disbelieving shake of his head, he gripped the base, pulling his hand with a slow rotation of his wrist upwards. His release making the perfect slick for round two.

“F–fuuck, babyyy…” Terry hissed at the feeling. He let go, palming the head a few seconds to stave off the mounting pressure. He would not come that quickly again.

Terry took his time, languidly pulling at his dick, unrushed. Rubbing his free hand up and down his stomach, tweaking his nipple quickly before sliding back down. He repeated this process as his hand gradually picked up speed.

The short nails on Terry’s left hand bit deliciously into his skin as he raked them down his chest and stomach. The sharp pain was closely followed by a wave of hazy pleasure causing his hips to buck faster into his hand. He abandoned all notion of slow, the tightening in his balls and urge to reach completion pushing fast and hard to the forefront of his mind. The juxtaposition of two intense sensations never failed to throw him over the edge.

Terry threw his head back, neck straining as he clenched his jaw. A constant string of yes, fuck, yes screaming in his head as his abdominal muscles flexed and clenched. His hand is almost a blur with how quickly he’s moving.

Twist

Grip

Plunge

Slap

Squeeze

Fucking Aaliyah did this to him. Those eyes, that smile, her voice, that goddamn body…

Flashes of her twerking in a split, making that ass clap, looking back at it, licking her lips with that tongue ring, talking her shit, how sweet her pussy tasted, how snug her walls were around his fingers.

He wished it was her. Her delicate hand working him. Her brown eyes drooping with arousal. Her heavenly voice encouraging him to go ahead. Let go. He could almost smell her. Almost taste her.

Her pussy was so fucking sweet. He couldn’t wait to suck on her pussy. He wanted to bury his nose into it and draw in a deep breath that almost burned his lungs. He wanted to make her unravel beneath his tortuous tongue and lips. Over and over and over—

He erupted at the thought, breathing hard and keening through his messy release. The second nut even more than the first. Still, he continued to stroke, torturing himself, milking himself like he wanted her to.

Terry was out of breath by the end of it. Body spent and tingling.

So much for not cumming quickly.

He sat there for a long time, waiting for the hollow feeling to retreat from his bones, his cum cooling on his skin. He needed to take another shower.

But what he really needed was her.

Friday couldn’t come fast enough.

@theereina @bombshellbre95 @planetblaque @trippyscotch @megamindsecretlair @uzumaki-rebellion @thesweetestdrug @theblulife @hotgrlcece @blackerthings @deja-r @helloncrocs @hearteyes-for-killmonger @kaylabuggggg06 @skyesthebomb @blyffe @gwenda-fav @beenathembo @blackpinup22 @novaniskye @melaninhawtie @urfavblackbimbo @avoidthings @rose-bliss @xo-goldengirl @kinginwithbreezy-blog @mysecertdiaryofableedingheart @sirenmouths @creartivefairy @soulfulbeauty19 @therealmrsrhodes @hrlzy @nayaesworld @gg-trini @brattyfics @flydotty @writingsbytee @shiania @browngirldominion @notapradagurl7 @madamzola @kismet83 @aristasworld @sl33p-deprived-princess @erynnnn @itssbrie @melaninangel @withoutmusiclifewouldbflat @sweettea-and-honeybutter @dashhoney25

[erikftglitter]

Christmas in Winona Springs 🤍🎄

Terry Richmond AU

Created By: Erikftglitter

Terry’s car had been giving him trouble for miles. He was headed north to visit his great aunt. He was also fond of the thought of a change of scenery, but the flat tire had put an abrupt halt to his plans. The only thing that he could see through the hovering clouds were a few cabins nestled among the trees.

Terry figured that this would be the only way to fix his problem in the current climate. He would check the cabin out, take a look, and find someone to help.

To Terry’s surprise, as he got closer to the cabins, he discovered that it was an actual resort. It was home to many different cabins and lodges, as well as camping grounds, tents, and a connecting lake. In the midst of the inconvenience, Terry still took time to appreciate the beautiful scenery.

He was greeted upon arrival within seconds.

The gentleman was older, his face lined with years, but he was as welcoming as could be. He was dressed comfortably and typical for someone who ran a cabin business. He sported a red and black flannel shirt and khaki work pants. He greeted Terry with a warm smile and ushered him out of harsh winds of the evening.

After accepting the man’s hospitality and enjoying coffee, Terry eventually explained his circumstance. He figured that the man would know someone with car services. Terry would happily fix the tire himself but he couldn’t get the tire off without the proper equipment.

“It’s late. Thankfully your car knew where to cause trouble.” The man chuckled. “Why don’t you settle in for the night and we can revisit this in the morning?” He offered.

“Are you sure?” Terry felt hesitant. It was never his intention to expect a hand out. He had took care of himself since a child and wasn’t fond of being a freeloader.

“I don’t want to cause any trouble. I can just call a tow truck or—”

“Nonsense. You’re in a pickle. It happens to the best of us.” The man smiled. His morals refused to allow anyone to struggle in his presence. “Stay the night. Get you some food, and tomorrow, we’ll fix that tire. No worries.”

Terry wasn’t sure what to make of it, but something in the older man’s voice—the calm certainty—made him set aside any skepticism. He didn’t have many other options and at least he’d be warm and safe.

“Thank you,” Terry finally said. He let his eyes roam the longue. It was supplied with wooden tables, warm, brown furniture with blankets topped over them, and the faint smell of apples and cinnamon felt surprisingly homey.

“My name’s Lee, by the way,” the man said as he led Terry to a clean room. “If you’re up for it, I’ll make you a drink.”

After the many hours of driving, and the ultimate disappointment of not arriving at his destination, Terry allowed Lee to make him a drink.

They sat at the small resort bar for hours. Terry found Lee to be an entertaining man. They sat and talked about everything and nothing. Lee told stories about the craziest experiences that he’s had over the years. A runaway bride being the most memorable. He got a great laugh out of eating on the wedding cake for weeks.

Terry shared a little about himself as well, but he didn’t think of himself as really interesting. He talked about his great aunt, who he was going to visit, his brief time in the service, and that is all that Terry Richmond summed himself up to be. Lee listened to everything though, patiently, never pushing, never judging.

He hadn’t expected to find comfort in the middle of nowhere, but here he was—sitting across from a stranger who felt more like an old friend. Lee was a wise man.

That night, Terry sat awake in the small guest room Lee had given him, staring at the ceiling, listening to the quiet hum of the place. Tomorrow, he’d help out around the resort to show his appreciation. For the first time in a long while, Terry felt needed.

[Two Months Later]

Terry never had the chance to see his great aunt before she succumbed to her illness. Stage 4 pancreatic cancer wasn’t an easy battle, and he’s just relieved that she was no longer suffering.

When Lee heard of the news he insisted that Terry stay the week. Being the honest man that he was, Terry wouldn’t allow Lee to house him without helping out. Business was going to become busy again as skiing became more common during the cooler months and Terry was determined to make it easier for Lee. He couldn’t stand the thought of Lee being left to repair cabins in the unforgiving weather condition and snow.

He helped him locate leaks and level the floor inside of the noisier cabins. Lee’s resort in Winona Springs was well-loved. Terry would stop to admire the photos that Lee had around the longue of families who came and went. Some even went as far as sending Lee annual holiday cards. Deep down, Terry wondered how it felt to be so loved.

But just as quickly as the thought came it left Terry’s mind. This is how he operated. He was unpredictable and flexible. He hadn’t seen home in months. How could he be loved if he disappeared from time and time again? This was his thing. He knew that he was a lone wolf and spent his adult years not trying to fight it.

Terry often filled in the work orders for Lee. He took quite a fall a few weeks before and Terry found himself being more upset than the older man.

“Terry. I’m old. This is the unrelenting truth of age, bud.” Lee laughed, reaching his hand out for Terry who eagerly helped him off the freshly waxed surface.

“Yeah I get that Lee, but don’t you have a nephew or something to help you out.” Terry’s heartbeat quickened at the realization that Lee was in fact an old man. Their unlikely alliance seemingly provided youth to Lee in Terry’s eyes. He hadn’t thought about the fact that he was definitely old enough to be his father. Definitely too old to run a rigorous business like a cabin resort alone, where snow and ice were detrimental for someone of Lee’s age.

“A nephew? I wish.” Lee sighed. “My brothers died much too soon. They didn’t have time to have any children.” Terry listened. Lee rarely spoke of his own family.

“It’s just me and my little girl.” Lee smiled and reached into his pocket. Terry watched as Lee rummaged through the thick leather wallet before retrieving his point of interest. He offered Terry a photo of a little girl who was missing two front teeth.

“I’m assuming she’s no longer a little girl.” Terry asked, his tone laced with playful sarcasm.

“I’m afraid not. Baby girl’s big time in New York.” Lee sighed. “She visits every Christmas. I just miss the times when we did this together. Just me and her.” Lee looked down. He was starting to remember just how much he missed his family.

“Her mother died during a snowstorm.” Terry took a seat next to Lee. He hadn’t realized that he lost his wife so early on. He gave Lee is undivided attention.

“Car slid right off the road just before Christmas Eve.” Lee still didn’t look up from the floor where his eyes rested. Terry glanced back at the photo and back to Lee. The girl had his exact mocha colored skin tone. Terry wondered how much she resembled the older lad now.

“Is that why you allowed me to stay with you Lee?” Asked Terry. He knew that Lee came from a generation that was built on community, but Lee was more than polite to him. He took Terry in like he was his own.

“Yeah. I feel like she would want me to do that. I wish someone could have done it for her.” Lee admitted. Taking Terry in during a troubled time helped his conscious. He was more than happy to do it. “I had the space and the resources. So why not?” Lee smiled.

“You’re a stand up guy Terry Richmond.” Lee stated. Terry nodded at the praise. He was grateful for the opportunity to listen and learn from Lee.

“Hoping to be like you one day Mr. Parker.” They both laughed at the formality. They sat in silence for a while, silently watching the snow fall onto the ground. Terry wasn’t sure how long he’d be around but he knew that he wouldn’t be leaving his new friend alone anytime soon.

[kumkaniudaku]

A Lovely Night

Summary: Terry and Patrice prepare for prom and a new level of their relationship.

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC (Patrice Ellis)

Word Count: 8.8K

Warnings: None

At the tender age of 13, with braces still on her top row of teeth and dreams of marrying a pop star who didn't yet know her name, Patrice came to three conclusions: she was leaving St. Pius after 8th grade, she definitely did want to be a teacher someday, and she was going to have a prom date before she graduated high school. 

The third conclusion came as she sat by herself at the 8th-grade formal, watching throngs of white children dance to censored hip-hop music in pairs and large groups while she was but a beautiful wallflower without the pleasure of being asked to attend. If not for her mother preemptively purchasing a dress before Patrice could confirm a dance partner for the evening, she would've stayed home and wallowed in her room. Better to cry in private than to suffer the embarrassment of visible loneliness in public. But, while she fought incoming misty tears threatening to smudge the mascara her mother had so graciously allowed her to use, Patrice swore that things would be different by her senior year. Her luck would turn. Shit, she might even be prom queen. 

Years later, when dreams began to catch up to reality, Patrice's 8th-grade formal debacle seemed primed for a remix. One month until prom and still no prospect for a prom date was social status killer number one. She'd worked hard in her senior year to reinvent herself, shed the reputation she'd inadvertently received as Terry's cute but strange shadow friend, and step into a new image as the senior hottie she was destined to be. Becoming Homecoming Queen was step one in the plan. Step two was senior class president. Step three, the hardest of them all, was having a small army of young men vying for a chance to take her to the ball. So far, only the weird junior from AP Calc had stepped up. Everyone else had slowly split into pairs, preparing matching ensembles, limo rentals, and after-party plans, leaving Patrice as a lone wolf destined to repeat past failures. 

"Is Napheesa really going to prom with Nate? Like for real?" 

Wednesday evenings were set aside for family spaghetti night and Calc homework with Terry via ooVoo video chat. She'd completed her first task of sharing something sweet and sour from her day around the dinner table. After lying her way into something sour that didn't include her prom woes, math with Terry was a welcomed distraction.

Patrice wiped away wayward red sauce from her mouth with her hoodie sleeve before refocusing on Terry's face taking up her laptop screen. "Yeah. He asked her Sunday when they were hanging out. It was kinda cute, really. I think he sang a song or something." 

Terry snickered. "Nigga swear he Trey Songz." He mocked Nate and the R&B hearthob's singing voice in one go, sending him and Patrice into laughter. When they finally calmed down, Terry settled into a more serious temperament. "Corey's going with Jasmine. I think they're wearing red."

"I heard. He showed me his tux. You know he's planning to wear red shoes? I told him he was gonna look like a Mississippi pimp, but he don't listen. Is the answer to number six 375?" As quickly as she'd delivered more news, Patrice was already on to the next thing. 

Terry smiled at how her face scrunched in confusion. "No. I think you miscalculated somewhere." 

"Shit," she whispered. "Don't tell me. Let me figure it out." Terry watched in rapt silence, enamored by Patrice's prominent features, which were made more striking by a neat ponytail showcasing her face as the main attraction. 

He waited silently as she typed the expression into her calculator again, battling whether now or in person was a good time to ask his question. If he waited again, he risked chickening out like he did before they parted ways in the senior parking lot to beat the morning tardy bell. He decided to strike while she wasn't looking at him with those beautiful brown eyes. 

"So…uh…you going to prom with anyone?" 

She scoffed without looking up. "No. At least not yet. Usher still hasn't responded to my emails. I sent Chris Brown one, too, so maybe he'll come through." 

"Good luck with that," he chuckled. Nerves tried to caution him on moving forward. A rational, fully formed frontal lobe would've told him to quit while he was ahead. Teenage folly made him open his mouth to say, "Wanna go with me?" 

Patrice paused her work to look up and smile. "You sure? We don't have to. I wouldn't be mad if you asked someone else." 

"I'm asking who I want to go with. Unless you givin' me the run around like Phee did Cam." 

"No," Patrice cut in, rolling her eyes. "I was just saying!" 

Terry smiled. "So we're going to prom together? Me and you? In Carolina blue? You see how I made that happen? Creative writing really might be worth it."

A genuine, hearty laugh came from Patrice's mouth as she threw her head back in reaction to Terry's terrible attempt at an off-the-cuff poem. Or so Terry thought. Really, she'd released years of pent-up fear and expected disappointment. Finally, in the 11th hour, Patrice had a prom date. Sure, it was her best friend she'd been falling more in love with day by day with no indication they'd ever be together, but it was something. Dream realized. Victory. 

"Yeah, we're going to prom together," she confirmed after her giggle attack had ended. They stared at each other momentarily, basking in the implications of a night under makeshift stars in the swanky event space across town. Patrice fought to look back at her calculator and announce what had to be the correct answer this time. "It's 215. I multiplied by 23 instead of multiplying 2 and 3. Movin' too fast, I guess." 

Terry nodded proudly. "Yeah. You got it. Good job." 

As Patrice moved on to a new exam prep question and rolled through the math aloud, the bitter taste of dissatisfaction coated his tongue. The spark he expected from asking the girl he'd been falling deeper into what he knew of love with was nothing more than a quick flicker of excitement – fun but empty. He could do better. Especially if he wanted his true intentions of turning a friendship into something more substantial to stand a chance. 

Two mornings later, with a day separating Terry's promposal and the opportunity to back out before their paring was set in stone, Patrice bounced into Francis from a doctor's appointment with a new lease on life and big news to share with Napheesa. 

She opened her locker as usual before fourth-period English, looking for her orange class notebook and the assigned textbook. She found them both without issue and nearly pranced off to class with nothing but gossip on her mind until she noticed the index card taped to her locker mirror. 

Can you meet me in the library after school? 398.2. I'm sure you know what that means. 

The handwriting looked more feminine than Patrice was accustomed to, not matching what she'd seen from Napheesa's notes back and forth in class or from Corey, who'd mastered the forgery dark arts. Still, she tucked the instructions into her everything binder's inside pouch and kept it close until the final bell rang. 

Like a spy on a top-secret mission, Patrice dodged conversations from her classmates, threaded her body between students walking to and fro in the main hallway, and quietly ducked into the library on the hunt for the mysterious being requesting her presence. 

398.2. It took Patrice an entire class period to decipher what the collection of numbers meant. Too short for a phone number, obviously, she thought to herself. It wasn't a locker number or any other location in the school. Area codes didn't come with decimals. She thought long and hard, willing the answer into existence. Realization smacked her in the head with the full force of Mike Tyson on her way to Terry's locker to grab her sociology notebook. The Dewey Decimal System. More specifically, the section of the library dedicated to folk and fairytales. 

Led by an ironclad knowledge of the library's layout and excitement nearly pouring from her pores, Patrice speed-walked past the librarian's station at the front, waved hello to Ms. Wanamaker re-stocking returned library books from seniors trying to clear their outstanding balances before fines set in, and turned the corner onto her intended row. 

Snow White piqued her curiosity first. The book appeared to jut out from the rest, so she glanced around for any lookie-loos straggling nearby and pulled it off the shelf. Nothing. Patrice shrugged and put the book back before focusing on other possible answers. Fairy Tales from The Brothers Grimm turned up nothing. Some weird book of Greek myths briefly felt like cracking the code but ultimately fell flat. Patrice had been duped. Led astray. Lied to. She was sure someone was watching through shelves and laughing at how she'd been fooled in a scavenger hunt. 

Some hopeful part of her brain directed Patrice's annoyed attention to the book spine conspicuously sticking out amongst its neighbor. She thought about what she might do if she were to flip through another dud and settled on knocking everything down as she yanked the worn edition of Cinderella from its spot. Luckily, a quick flip to its front cover ended her search. 

I don't know if I'm your Prince Charming, but I want you to feel like a Cinderella for a night. Will you go with me to the ball? I'll have you home before the clock strikes 12.

She recognized this handwriting, slanted and slender, on another index card. Patrice ran her index finger over the words and gave them another full read, not noticing the tall young man slowly revealing himself at the end of the aisle with a smile on his face and the gleam of mischief in his eyes. 

"I should've done this the right way the first time," he spoke, startling Patrice. He lifted his hands in surrender and disarmed her with a smile. "My bad." 

Patrice smiled back. "Since when did you learn the decimal system?" 

"If I tell you, I can't take you to prom. So, you either gotta answer the question on the card or get the answer to yours. Which one is it?" 

"Give me your answer." 

Horrified confusion and feigned annoyance flashed across Terry's young, handsome face as he watched Patrice double over in stifled laughter. He chuckled and kissed his teeth as he stepped closer. "Patrice, be serious. Will you go to prom with me? I'm really asking." 

Terry's sincerity, both in his voice inflection and in how his brows knitted in anticipation of a response, made Patrice stand up to her full height and smile back at her best friend. 

"Of course, TJ. I will absolutely go to prom with you." 

A fist pump and smile in the back corner of the school library was as good as any contract signed in black ink with a felt-tipped pen and the appropriate amount of witnesses. It was official official. Terry and Patrice were going to prom together. 

News of the expected pairing spread through the halls like wildfire, the truth morphing into something of a fairytale itself as it passed from person to person. Terry had asked Patrice in the library on one knee or in the parking lot, and they kissed, or between classes, and Patrice cried. Actually, Patrice asked Terry! In one version of events, Terry had abruptly reneged on his promposal to Junior cheerleader Cierra and asked Patrice at the last minute. A messy affair in a messy love triangle between the messiest best-friend duo the school had ever known, according to some twisted version of events. 

Neither Patrice nor Terry cared to clear up rumors or refute gossip. They were too busy prepping for the best night of their young lives. 

Pin cushions and yards of organza covered Patrice's living room floor by Sunday afternoon, turning recently the replaced grey carpet into a sea of light blue as her Aunt Sybil eyeballed measurements and cut the fabric into careful shapes to match the pattern Patrice and Imani had agreed was perfect for a Cinderella-inspired gown. Glitter. She needed glitter tucked into every inch to turn an ordinary dress into one that sparkled in the right light. Rosalyn requested sleeves for modesty, and Patrice agreed, not because she wanted to, but because she knew compromise was her best friend. They settled on sparkling flower appliqué details on the bodice to bring in the event's garden theme, a dainty off-the-shoulder sweetheart neckline with draped sleeves to satisfy her beaming mother, and a soft corset to create a ball gown illusion for the flowing, floor-length-skirt. A masterpiece in Patrice's eyes. Especially the hidden thigh-high split she and Imani schemed, plotted, and cried to have included when Rosalyn wasn't listening. 

Hair, makeup, nails, and fragrance were all Patrice thought about for days. She sat with Napheesa on Google for hours, looking for the perfect photos to show their beauty service providers when the time came. Every detail, down to the number of tendrils springing from her bun to add a little Princess Tiana into her Disney fantasy, was carefully crafted to fit the vision she'd had of herself since the 8th grade. 

Terry hadn't dived head-first off the prom prep cliff, but he was close. Marvin couldn't understand why his son was suddenly so hell-bent on switching to the younger barber and his creative cuts until Diedra pulled him aside for a quick update in the Richmond Girl saga. He couldn't have any old fade. He needed something to stop Patrice in her tracks and garner enough praise to fuel him until he was 21. He'd work every weekend until boot camp to pay off that extra $50 plus tip if it meant his haircut was precise. 

A trip to the tailor turned a baggy, hand-me-down wedding tux into something tailored for his brand new, 6'3" frame. Diedra watched with pride in her shining eyes as Terry stood tall and allowed the much smaller shop owner to stand on a step ladder and adjust the jacket's shoulders to Terry's proportions. Take in the waist here, lengthen that hem, get the fit of that cummerbund just right, not too shiny on the shoes or too dark on that blue – he's got a date with the prettiest girl in the world, and he can't get caught lacking. Another $150 withdrawn from his parent's bank account, another step closer to the best night of his short life. 

The final puzzle piece was the paramount matter of transportation. Terry's Explorer had been out of commission since October, both from punishment and mechanical issues. He'd improved his behavior, but the starter was still shot, and any indicator that his dad would fix it went away when Terry chose to sign his life away to the United States.

Terry knew the perfect set of wheels to act as a chariot for his princess. The creamy, off-white Cadillac with less than 40,000 miles and a sick interior parked in their garage would take him from best friend to boyfriend in 15 minutes flat. He just needed the permission. 

Slinking out of his room, Terry coached himself through a pre-planned script as he jogged down the front porch steps to the tall, greying, light-skinned man diligently trimming healthy green hedges per his wife's instructions. 

"Hey, Pop. You need some help?" 

Marvin looked up at his son, confusion sheening his blue-green eyes, and shrugged. "If you wanna, I won't stop you." A man of few words and enough brains in his head to know when his boy was about to ask for something.

Taking his father's half-hearted invitation, Terry slid on a pair of working gloves nearby, grabbed the garden hedge sheers lying in a pile of other tools, and began carefully chopping at his mama's award-winning bushes. 

They worked silently for several long minutes, two tall, slender Richmond men toiling away in the mid-April breeze until Terry mustered up enough courage to make his request known. "Dad, could I…maybe, um…drive your car for prom? Just that one night?" 

"The truck?" Marvin knew the answer but wanted to teach his only son a lesson in the type of directness that made boys into men. 

"No. The Cadillac. Our friends are doing the limo thing, but I want to – I'm just not trying to spend the whole night with them. It's easier if I can put the money for the limo towards dinner and really enjoy myself. With Patrice. Together for probably the last time." 

Marvin listened to his son's appeal without looking away from his task, mulling over the answer he already had in his head. He'd been in young love before and knew all of the fear and excitement from exploring matters of the heart. 

Terry watched his father continue to prune errant branches and leaves from the collection of perfectly green hedges, feeling the pieces of his plan for a magical night blow away in the wind. He'd already begun working through how to get $50 to Corey by the end of the night when Marvin set his shears down and started rifling through his coverall pockets. 

He pulled out a crisp $100 bill, allowed his neutral expression to brighten into a small smile, and extended his hand toward Terrence. "Hold that for dinner." Then he reached into another pocket to pull out a ring of keys to toss in Terry's direction. "And hold these for this evenin'. I gotta see you drive her before I let you off by yourself. You fuck up my Caddy, and you won't make it to Parris Island, Tybee Island, or Island Seafood down the street without a cane because I'm gon' need at least three toes for my car."

"I got it, Dad," Terry laughed. "I promise. I'll have it back a little after 12. Treece got a curfew.” 

"Mhmm. She got your little nose wide open, too. When y'all gon' stop all that playing and do the real thing?" 

Terry hoped he could return to his father triumphant by next Saturday night to proudly proclaim he and Patrice had finally decided to do "the real thing." He spent the whole week counting down the seconds until he could ask for her hand at the dinner table, confess his feelings, earn a big kiss, and walk into the event center as Francis Edwards High School's newest couple. 

Patrice considered the possibility of going from best friend to girlfriend all week but kept her fantasies locked inside her mind for fear of interrupting Napheesa's now 15-minute-long, one-sided conversation. 

The school week's events had long faded into vapors to make way for the dizzying sights and sounds of salon visits, light lunches to keep bellies flat, and gossip-filled chatter of prom preparation. Patrice and Napheesa sat side by side in massage chairs that made their bodies shake and jerk from an overzealous contraption while their feet soaked in bowls of bubbling lukewarm water. Their mothers had dropped them off for coordinated early morning nail appointments they both hoped would fit into 90 minutes. Napheesa had to be on time for her beautician or else she'd spend an extra hour at the hair salon. Patrice didn't have a fancy chair to sit in for her appointment. Still, Ms. Brenda's daughter liked to get off track in her kitchen studio, and she didn't have the time or patience for anyone to ruin her plans. 

Napheesa flipped through color swatches while she multitasked providing updates to her best friend and picking which shade of baby pink would match her dress best. "Corey said his after-party is invite-only, but you know how he gets when he get a crowd. Everybody and they mama gone be over there. You and Terry sure y'all don't wanna ride in the limo with us so you don't have to worry about finding a place to park in his neighborhood? I don't think he'll care about the money at this point." 

"Nope. Terry says he wants it to be just us, and I think he already got his dad to let him use the car." Patrice answered, smiling at the thought of being alone with him in a fancy whip. 

"Okay, then! You didn't tell me about the Cadillac, now! I'm jealous." Napheesa teased. She noticed her friend's bashful smirk and reached over to playfully push her shoulder. "How you feeling about tonight? You nervous? Excited? What?" 

All of that and then some, Patrice thought to herself before answering. "I don't know! I think I'm just ready to see him," she confessed. "We've never been, like, alone alone. What if I say something silly or trip and fall or something? Now the night is ruined, and I gotta come home by 8 o'clock." Patrice sighed and mentally settled on a classic French tip for her nails and feet. "I think it'll be fun. I'm just ready to skip to then."

"The way Terry acts like you're the second coming of Kevin Hart, I'm sure there's nothing silly you could do or say to make him end the night early. He might even fall down with you so you don't feel alone." The young ladies dissolved into laughter at the image of Terry's long, lanky body lowering to the ground just to make Patrice feel better about her blunder. "Just have fun, P. High school is almost over, and if you not with that boy by May, we not talking about his ass when we get on campus." 

Patrice feigned offense. "We'll still be friends! I can't talk about him at all?" 

"Not a peep. We only talking about fine college niggas after graduation. So, lock it down or get ready for orientatioooon." Napheesa's exaggerated body roll turned Patrice's giggling into a full-on cackle loud enough to eclipse the nearby whirring of an electric file. 

Patrice would've laughed herself into a stomach ache if not for the loud ringtone trilling in her purse. Napheesa didn't need to see who was awaiting an answer to their call. The slight smile on her friend's face and starry eyes were answer enough. 

"Hey, TJ," Patrice chirped as two nail techs rolled up to start their service. 

In his bedroom across town, Terry eyed his face in the bathroom mirror, trying to decide which parts of his facial hair to tell his barber to keep. "What's up, Treece. Wait, are you out already?" 

"Yeah. I didn't want to end up late, so me and Phee decided to get our nails done early." Patrice passed greetings between her two best friends before continuing. "What's up with you?"

"I'm on the way to the barbershop in a little bit. I just wanted to tell you I'll be by to pick you up at 5:30 so we can get to dinner on time. The food's gonna suck tonight and I don't want you to be hungry. Think you'll be ready by then?" 

Patrice smiled and softened her voice. "Yeah. I'll be ready." 

"Um…" Terry cut himself short, smiled at the fleeting thought of seeing his Cinderella float toward him in something spectacular, and then picked up his thought again. "I'm excited to see your dress tonight and hang out. I think it's gonna be a good night." 

"Me too. I get to see you in a tie for the first time." 

Terry chuckled. "And this stupid waist thing my mama's making me wear. They're gonna follow me to your place, by the way, so be ready to take pictures for forever." 

"That's okay. You just make sure you don't come over there looking better than me," Patrice joked. A clean-cut, suited and booted Terry could rival Hollywood's finest leading man. She'd put money on that. 

"I could never. You win that battle every time." His compliment settled on Patrice's ears and heart like light snow coating freezing cold lawns in those Hallmark Christmas movies her mom loved so much. Terry smiled at her silence before noting his father's second honk in as many minutes. "See you later, Treece. I gotta get out of here. Love you." 

Patrice looked to Napheesa pretending not to listen to every word of their conversation then tried to lower her voice. "Love you, too. See you later." 

Another velvety smooth goodbye left a young girl with dreams of locking more than arms with her occasionally brooding, often sweet prince swooning in a building full of strangers and her amused best friend. 

"Cute shit, mom and dad." The parents joke had gained traction in the school hallways and grown legs to follow Patrice into the world via a sniggering Naphessa. Patrice looked over at her friend with a sour look and received gut-busting laughter in return. "Damn, y'all sound like my parents." 

"Shut up!" 

-----

Staring at her daughter in the small vanity mirror tucked in the room's back corner, Rosalyn had never seen a more beautiful girl in all her life. The baby she'd spent hours of grueling labor to usher into the world, her first of three pregnancies and two births, had grown into a young woman preparing to enter the world as a free bird spreading its wings for the time. 

Tears gathered in the inner corners of her eyes, threatening to garner a groan and quiet complaints for it was the third time in an hour she'd felt like crying. Leon joked with her the first two times, remarking that Patrice's eventual wedding might send her to the upper room if this was how Rosalyn would act for prom. 

Rosalyn twirled a perfectly spiraled tendril from Patrice's bun around her finger after removing the perm rod giving it shape and smiled. "You're such a pretty girl, P. Don't let anyone tell you that you aren't. Alright?" 

"Yes ma'am," Patrice answered as she looked back at her mother through the mirror. She took careful stock of her appearance, trying to see what in her reflection her mother saw to say such a thing. 

Brown skin, smooth as luxury chocolate and covered in just enough makeup to highlight ancestral high cheekbones and youthful features, complemented shining eyes and mouth full of pearly whites her parents had paid a fortune for in middle school. She was pretty. Beautiful. A stunning amalgamation of her mother, and her mother, and her mother's mother long before she was a twinkle in the universe. 

A larger roller removed from the right side of her forehead unfurled a bouncing bang. Rosalyn kept it in place with a careful mist of spritz. "The next time I get to see you like this, you'll be getting a new last name." Patrice looked away bashfully, trying not to imagine wedding bells and a church full of family watching her walk down the aisle to the one she…loved? Loves. She did love him, she thought. She was sure of that much.

Rosalyn slowly slid the other large roller off Patrice's left side, giving it equal attention to the first. "Have fun tonight, alright. I know you'll be okay with Terry, but I'll tell you anyway: be safe. You know you can call whenever you need us. We'll come get you, no questions asked." 

"I know. I don't think I'll have to call. Terry knows to have me back by midnight, and we don't get into trouble." Partially true. They didn't get into much trouble. Nothing significant or life-changing. Not yet, anyway. 

"I'm not worried about it," Rosalyn said, fixing a small sparkling tiara to the base of Patrice's bun. "So…do you like him? From my vantage point, it seems like you like him, but I could be wrong. What's the scoop?" 

Patrice groaned. "Mamaaa!" An immediate desire to cover up the truth made her body hot with embarrassment. But something in her mother's knowing smile compelled her to come clean. "Yeah. I do. I like him a lot." 

"Ain't no crime in that. It's okay to like a boy. You know your daddy was a boy I liked at one point. We don't expect you not to like anyone. We just want you to be smart. Don't have no babies yet." 

"Maaa!" 

Rosalyn chuckled at Patrice's teenaged disgust and prepared to pour more on for fun's sake when two knocks rapped against the bedroom door before Leon poked his head inside. He took a sweeping look over his only daughter and smiled. "Look at my little girl. They should be putting you in the children's books, huh?" Patrice said thanks with a small, timid smile before Leon dropped off pressing news. "The Richmond boy and his folks are comin' in. Lookin' like it's time to make your entrance." 

"Thank you, Daddy. Can you tell him I'll be out in a little while?" 

Leon accepted his marching orders with a nod and smile, then disappeared to entertain the growing swell of voices filling the living room. 

Smiling, Rosalyn slid the cape shielding Patrice's glittering dress from debris off her daughter's chest and draped it over her arm. "Alright, pretty girl, it's your show now." She leaned down to press her cheek to Patrice's in a warm display of affection. "Knock his socks off, you hear? He's here to see you. Give him a show." 

Give him a show. While Patrice mentally unraveled what that meant, Terry stood in the living room rocking back and forth on his heels and checking his wristwatch for the time. Zorah and Zanah talked on the couch while Junior snuck glances at the two identically beautiful girls and tried to keep the camcorder upright to ensure he didn't get a slap on the back of the head from his mother. Diedra chattered a mile a minute to her husband and good friend, saying something about pictures and keepsakes that Terry didn't care to hear. 

He wanted to see Patrice. Weeks of waiting and dreaming every chance he got to let his mind wander came down to the soft tick, tick, tick of his silver link watch as the minute hand turned 5:29 pm into 5:30 pm—showtime. 

Terry heard a door close down the hall and listened for the footsteps moving in his direction before looking up to see Mrs. Rosalyn appear in the hallway's threshold. She smiled at him first then addressed the room. "She'll be out in a few. Just grabbing a few last things." 

"Oh my Gooood! I can't wait to see her. I know she'll be beautiful!" Diedra clasped her fingers at her chest as if it were her daughter preparing for a grand reveal. "Girls, come over here. I want you to see!" 

Zorah and Zanah moaned and groaned about their conversation being cut short but followed directions anyway to avoid what existed on the other side of disobedience. Junior tracked both girls with his eyes until a nervously rocking Terry cut off his sightline. He looked up at the young man confused. 

"Why you shakin' like that, Terry," he asked, genuinely unable to fathom why the boy might be nervous. "You seen Patrice a million times." 

But not like this. He'd seen her in sweats and a T-shirt or dressed up for school, but not like this. That fact became abundantly clear as her high heels tapped across the hardwood floor, stepping closer to reveal a modern marvel amongst mere pretenders. Whatever he'd dreamed up in the back of classrooms or while tucked in his bedroom at night paled compared to what stood before him. 

Shock. Awe. Amazement. Diedra squealed as if the Queen had walked into the room. His twin sisters whistled and gave praise like only pre-teen girls could. Even Junior had to nod in approval to give credit where credit was due. 

Terry could only see Patrice in all the noise. The way her dress shimmered in the sunlight streaming through the glass storm door at the front of the house. How her makeup made her look like a movie star in her greatest role to date. Heels helped her legs stand out from the hint of split peeking back at him. Her hair was beautiful, her nails were beautiful, her lips, shoulders, and eyes were beautiful – Patrice was beautiful.

Terry's hand was out beckoning for her hand before he knew what he was doing. "Wow," he breathed out as he gently pulled her closer. He had to will away the urge to know if the gloss coating her lipstick-covered pout had a flavor to say something coherent. "You look…wow." 

"You look like Cinderella! It's so cool!" Zanah said the most consecutive words she had spoken in ages at that moment, stunning Marvin. 

"Shoot, you really are something! You even got the mean one to talk!" 

All in the room laughed, leaving Terry and Patrice to admire each other openly. Patrice straightened the lapel of Terry's tux jacket, then moved on to his bowtie just to have a reason for stepping close enough to smell his cologne. 

He looked down at her, peering through thick lashes, and watched her go to work with a smile. Seeing her nervousness comforted him. They could figure things out together.

Patrice smoothed her hands over his shoulders and finally looked up to smile at Terry. "You look really handsome, TJ. Mean it." 

"You too." Terry immediately recognized his tongue-tied mistake and rushed to correct course. "I meant you look pretty. Beautiful! I'm sorry. You ready to get out of here?" 

They were more than ready. As they stood in front of the Ellis residence, pinning boutonnieres, sliding corsages on dainty wrists, and posing for more photos than they could count, all Patrice and Terry could think about was sliding into the front seat of their chariot for the evening and rolling off toward the sunset. They got their chance 40-odd grueling minutes later once their parents had done all their doting and laid down the rules. 

The first stop was dinner. Somehow, good fortune pushed Terry to pick the one Italian restaurant no other prom attendee in the city thought to cram into with their large parties clad in fluffy gowns and starched suits. That foresight got them a free dinner from a lovely Black couple enjoying a Saturday date night. 

His foresight also saved them from the disaster of a dinner at the venue once they'd wrapped up their make-believe date night and joined their friends for the last formal night of their high school lives. Luckily, the thrill of dancing and taking Facebook photos on a handheld digital camera removed the need to eat anything life-sustaining.

Together, they sang in each other's faces like maniacs, moved about the dance floor until their feet hurt, and forgot all the cares and problems of tomorrow. The only break came when the Prom King and Queen were announced after dinner service began. 

Terry and Patrice watched Corey accept his title like proud parents, recording him on their cell phones while hollering their support from across the room with the rest of the crew. All the work they'd collectively put into his campaign made his triumph feel like a win for the table, not counting Corey's angry date. She stormed off into the hallway moments after an innocent dance between the royal couple went from an innocent sway to Corey reveling in the attention of a young lady with at least six inches of height over him. 

The DJ for the night quickly cut "Slow Jam" by Usher and Monica off at a faculty advisor's request once Corey got a little overzealous and transitioned into Chris Brown's "Winner" to invite all who were willing to sway in each other's arms to the dancefloor. 

Patrice sat in her chair, watching couples slowly float to the dancefloor. She smiled at nothing in particular and bopped her head to the familiar song. Terry watched her like a hawk, suspended between being mesmerized and the pressure of knowing his time was quickly running out. 

Nerves at dinner convinced him to stay mum about his feelings and enjoy Patrice's fun facts about focaccia instead. When he rested his hand on her fingers in the car, and she didn't pull away, he thought about pulling over for his rehearsed speech, but they were already behind schedule. Part of him wanted to whisper how much he loved her into her ear as she pressed her back to his front for official photos. He let the feeling pass, though. 

Now, with the center of the dancefloor free for the taking and the time left before his princess needed to be returned to her home dwindling, he took a deep breath and scooched closer to her. 

Baby, you're a winner

Didn't even take you twelve rounds to do it

You got the title now

I'mma tell the whole world 

To give it up for my girl

"You wanna dance?" Terry meant for the question to sound more confident and less like a creep whispering into his date's ear. So, he scooched even closer, slid his hand around her waist, and tried again. "I'd really love to dance with you. Please." 

Patrice turned in her seat to look back at Terry's eyes pleading for the chance to take her out on the floor and felt goosebumps spring up on her forearms. How could she say no to such a perfectly handsome face? She wouldn't if given the chance. "I'm following your lead." 

Hand in hand, Terry and Patrice sauntered out into the center of an empty dancefloor, receiving applause and encouragement from people and friends who had caught wind of something special unfolding before them. They ignored the ruckus as best they could while arranging limbs around necks and waists. 

If he were being honest with his mind and body, Terry wanted Patrice closer than what school officials would deem appropriate for a sanctioned event. Having his fingers gently grip her sides while they swayed too slow for the music felt like torture, but he persisted for the sake of the moment. He'd have his chances one day soon. 

Patrice hoped Terry couldn't feel the wild thump of her pulse against her wrist as they draped near the nape of his neck. Being so close to him, smelling the residual mint of his gum mixed with whatever heavenly fragrance he'd borrowed from his father was enough to send her body into overdrive. So this was what attraction felt like? This was what all the Ebony and Cosmo articles meant when they discussed the scientific responses of women to men and vice versa. This was infatuation, unshakeable physical longing, and…love? Separately, they were manageable symptoms curable by time away and deep breaths. Together, in the confines of the small square they'd created with sync movements, they were too much and threatening to spill over into utterances she wasn't sure she was ready to release. 

Terry dragging his thumbs up and down along Patrice's waist snapped her out of a deluge of competing thoughts, forcing her to look up at him. He smiled. "What you thinkin' about?" 

"How bad a dancer I am," she joked, allowing self-deprecation to be her scapegoat for the nerves bubbling inside. 

"It's not you," he chuckled. "I wasn't really listening to how fast this song is. I just wanted to get you away from everybody else so we could talk." 

Patrice tilted her head in curiosity. "About what?" 

A quick scan of the immediate area to confirm there were no eavesdroppers or class gossipers helped Terry gather his thoughts. He had plans for something grand, something unforgettable for the rest of their lives. But when he looked back down at her brown eyes, waiting for his next move, he could only confess, "Patrice, I love you." 

"I love you, too, Terrence." 

For a split second, through the strobing neon lights creating shadows on their faces and hiding actual reactions, Terry thought he could see a flash of connection in Patrice's eyes – a hint of unspoken confirmation that what he'd shared was received in full without explanation. 

Patrice hoped he understood the added "I" or the addition of his entire first name to mean what she was too afraid to vocalize beyond a few simple words. 

They had more to say and share to ease the weight on their heavy hearts and minds. Things too sacred for the dancefloor, back at the table with their friends, or in the parking lot as everyone loosened their ties, switched out their shoes, and planned to reconvene for the party of the century. So, they left their I Love You's with Chris Brown and darted into the night for sweet treats separate from the group. 

Underneath real stars in a dark blue sky, they rambled on, recapping highlights over two cups of fresh churned Oreo ice cream, trying hard not to leave the evidence behind on his father's interior. 

"Corey lucky he around all them people, or Jasmine would've kicked his ass," Patrice laughed. "Oh, and did you see Chris and Diamond leave together. I knew they had something going on!" 

Terry chewed through a chunk of Oreo and shrugged. "People could say the same about us. Shit, people do say the same about us." 

"Yeah, but…this is different. We're friends. Right?" 

"We are right now, but…I don't know if I want to stay that way." Growing serious, Terry placed his half-empty cup of ice cream in the cup holder and turned in the driver's seat to face Patrice. He reached for her hand, and, for the second time that night, she didn't pull away. He took it as his sign to proceed. "I meant what I said back there. I love you. As more than my friend." 

Patrice nodded, understanding, and tried to wish away the tears pricking her eyes as she smiled. "I know. I did, too. I…I love you." 

That spark, the small burst of magic that had fought for centerstage all day, was back and bursting into fireworks above them, daring someone to make a move. Terry took the bait and brought Patrice's knuckles to his lips for a chaste kiss. She watched him close his eyes to savor the feeling of her skin on his mouth, thinking of all the ways she'd explain this to Napheesa when they had a moment to debrief. 

"I want to be your boyfriend. You know, if… that's cool with you." He chickened out in the end, but the sentiment remained the same. He wanted more than one-armed hugs and childish giggles with Patrice. He wanted a real relationship. As real as it could get for two people at the precipice of adulthood. 

Patrice sucked in a deep breath, unsure of how to force an answer through a throat tightening by the second. All she could mutter was a quiet "TJ…" 

"It's okay," he smiled. Breaching the center console between them, he leaned to kiss her cheek. Patrice's eyes fluttered closed and reopened in enough time to catch Terry returning to the driver's side, preparing to start the engine. "Just think about it, okay?"

Patrice thought about dating and a wedding, Terry's fingers threaded between hers, his thumb softly caressing her knuckles, the butterflies in her belly, and what it meant to be in love as he drove them through familiar streets. It was all she could think about. It was all she wanted to think about. 

Thoughts of finally letting go battled with the fear of what the end may look like and stuck with Patrice as they walked into Corey's "quiet" house party. Neither of them would ever understand how he could convince his parents to allow teenagers around the county to dance, scream, and be merry in their two-story home, but they didn't complain. 

Corey was the first to point out their joint arrival and holdholding, only to be shooed away to spread the news amongst the others. 

"Phee is in one of the rooms changing, I think. Or fucking with Nate. I don't know what's going on, bro, I'm not gon' lie to you." 

Terry shook his head at his friend's antics, then turned to Patrice. "You want a drink or something? Water?" 

"Water would be nice," she answered through a broad smile that Terry mirrored. "Can you grab a straw, too? I don't want to mess up my lip gloss." 

"Cool. I'll find you." 

Only God could pry their hands apart and send Terry on a mission for cold water and straw in a house where he could barely move without bumping into someone. Patrice watched him disappear around a corner before dashing down a hallway for sound counsel. 

She opened doors to coat closets, bathrooms, and bedrooms, which were occasionally filled with people sneaking sips of alcohol, but they came up empty. Panic settled into her bones as she frantically asked for Napheesa until some generous partygoer pointed her toward the family sunroom. 

There, she found Napheesa sipping something in a red cup and massaging her aching feet like a mother who'd had a long day at work. When she saw Patrice barrel through the threshold, her face brightened. "P! I was -" 

"Terry told me he loved me!" 

Napheesa choked on air as her eyes bugged out of her head. "What! Wait, wait, wait. Start from the top!" 

"We were dancing, and he said he loved me; I said it back because, like, I do love him, right! We say that all the time! You hear it! But then he said it again while we were eating ice cream and asked me to be his girlfriend! Well, really, he asked to be my boyfriend, which is like, somehow more romantic than the other way around, and Napheesa, I don't know what to do! What do I do?" 

Patrice spoke a mile a minute, not stopping for breaths or input until she'd unloaded her full stream of consciousness, like word vomit, all over the floor. Napheesa stared blankly and answered matter-of-factly. 

"Just say it back." Plain and without flowery language, she offered sage advice. "Say it back. You just said you love him. So, say it back to him. Why are you making this hard? Do you love him?" 

"Of course I do!" 

Napheesa laughed in confusion. "So say it back, crazy girl! Go ahead. Do it." 

"Okay. Alright," Patrice started. "I love Terry. I love him. I love Terrence Richmond. There. I said it." She listened to the words return to her and tried them out again. "I love you, Terry. I love you, Terry. I love you, Terry!" 

"See how easy that was? You really need to see somebody about all that worrying, girl. Want me to ask my mama who she goes to?" 

Patrice sighed and chuckled away her nerves. "No. I just-" 

When Napheesa's eyes flickered up to the sunroom entrance and stayed, Patrice turned around to find Terry caught like a deer in headlights with two cups and a straw in his hand. 

"They didn't have bottles, so I just put some ice water in these cups," he announced. "Am I interrupting girl talk? I can come back." 

"Nope. I was actually on my way to find Nate and get some water." Napheese looked back at Patrice, winked her encouragement, and then stood to brush past Terry and back into the action. She pulled one cup out of his hand on her way out. "Thanks for the water. See y'all later?" 

One cup down and thoroughly annoyed, Terry stepped into the sunroom and took Napheesa's previous spot opposite Patrice. He extended the cup and straw in her direction. "Here. This one's for you. Don't tell Corey I went through his mama's kitchen drawers." 

"Your secret's safe with me." 

Terry smiled as Patrice mimed a lock motion over her lips. She never dropped her smile or sipped from her cup, striking him as odd. "You okay?" he laughed. "Why you smiling so hard? Did Napheesa say something about me?" 

She shook her head no but answered, "Yes!" 

"Yes, what?" Terry questioned, confusion knitting his brows together. 

Patrice placed her cup on the ground and grabbed both his hands, threading their fingers together like he did in the car. He gripped them tighter, looking into her eyes like they held all the answers. 

"Yes, you can be my boyfriend. Because…I really, really want to be your girlfriend. You know…if that's cool with you." 

Shock kept Terry glued to his seat, disconnecting his body from a mind turning somersaults in triumph. Patrice watched in amusement as his eyes darted across her face before he shot up and pulled her along for the ride. 

They'd hugged each other plenty of times – to say goodbye and hello, for comfort when the other was feeling down, to be close for no reason at all – but they'd never embraced as more than friends. Patrice had never experienced how good it felt to be fully wrapped in his arm and pressed into a heart beating with love for her. Terry didn't know how having Patrice wrap herself around him would trigger a desire to shower her in never-ending affection. 

Terry tried the feeling on for size, pulling away to kiss her cheek and then her forehead. "I love you." If given the chance, he could say it a million more times. 

"I love you, too." Easy enough. Practice would make perfect, and Patrice was ready to put in the work. 

An unseen force, the same magnetism from their shared Christmas joy in Patrice's bedroom months ago, pulled them closer for another go at a kiss they'd been putting off for far too long. 

Eyes blinked closed. Tongues ran across lips to moisten them for an eventual meeting. Hands tried to wander south and close the gap between their hips. All their pining and preparation had come down to one mo- 

"Hell yeah, P! Kiss your man!" 

"Terry! Terry! Terry!" 

"I knew it! They almost kissed on the dancefloor, too!"

Thwarted again. A small crowd of familiar faces had gathered at the threshold, excited to see their favorite pair finally go the distance. Embarrassed, Patrice hid her face inside Terry's suit jacket, and he wrapped his arms around her as an act of protection. 

Laughing, he tried to shoo the onlookers away. "Man, get out of here! Y'all ain't ever heard of privacy?" 

"Nigga, this my house! Ain't no privacy," Corey laughed. "Go ahead and kiss. This everybody moment! We been waiting forever!" 

The small group agreed, but Patrice wasn't interested in the spectacle. She pulled away from Terry, slid her hand in his, and began leading them out of the room. "And you'll wait some more. This ain't a damn zoo! I thought we were here to have fun!" 

They were. And they did. Disappointment quickly faded, making room for more singing, dancing, and aching feet into the late hours of the night. 

Patrice had long ditched her heels for flats, extending the life of her party animal personal until a quick glance at a perfectly positioned wall clock indicated a quarter til midnight. She roughly pried Terry's drifting hands, trying to pull her backside closer to his front from her waist, and hurried him back to the car in hopes he could make up the distance with some expert driving. 

Both of them prayed all patrol units were busy elsewhere as Terry guided them down empty streets and quiet neighborhood rows to return Rosalyn and Leon's precious cargo by midnight. Terry pulled into Patrice's driveway, cutting time dangerously close, opened the passenger door in a flash, and hurried her to the front door like the Secret Service escorting the president. 

He watched Patrice shuffle through her purse for the housekey, wondering if now was a good time to return to that kiss. "Patrice, can I -" 

"Found it! I really need to put this on a ring." She looked up at Terry and smiled. "I'm sorry, what were you gonna say?" 

Terry shook his head free of previous plans and settled for a kiss on the cheek. "Good night, Treece. I'll text you when I'm home." 

"Good night, TJ." Patrice looked at the light turn on in the living room through the glass panels on the front door, then back at Terry. "I love you." 

"I love you, too. Go ahead. Don't get in trouble." 

A blown kiss and one more wave sent Patrice back into her humble abode and Terry to his horse and carriage for the night. As he backed out of the driveway, looking both ways for traffic that would never come, he noticed the heel of forgotten shoes in his back seat. 

Terry smiled to himself, recalling the story of the dazzling beauty and her lost slipper. Luckily, he didn't have to scour the city looking for the beautiful belle of the ball that stole his heart. He knew where to his Cinderella.

------

Reply if you'd like to be tagged in future work!

TAGS: @planetblaque @wvsspoppin @thatone-girly @avoidthings @slutsareteacherstoo @eilujion @amyhennessyhouse @yaachtynoboat711 @jenlovey @pinkpantheris @blowmymbackout @onherereading @becauseimswagman1 @thiccc-c @hrlzy @urfavblackbimbo @blackburnbook @ashanti-notthesinger @xo-goldengirl @ariiijestertheklown @blyffe @tvchi @wabi-sabi1090 @blackmoonchilee @flydotty @aldrigmer444 @ash-ketchumzzz @nayaesworld @ms-mosley-ifunastyyy @writingsbytee @teddybeerz @trippyscotch @theogbadbitch @ghostfacekill-monger @nyifly22 @kaylalb @literallegendicon @dee-deelovesyouu @drdimplesj

[appledressing]

Ohmygod!?!? Is he about to devolve into absolutely unhinged territory??? Criminal defence lawyer about to go down his own arc of criminality

🤣🤣

Anyway I love this first glimpses of the readers personality she’s so cute. We’ll see what her reasons are soon 🙃

All I Want Is You

(Terry richmond x Black Plus size reader, Lawyer/Law firm AU)

Summary - Terry’s had his eyes on you for a while, like predator to prey, watching, waiting to strike. The only problem was that you were slippery, hard to get a hold of, he was gonna have to work extra hard to catch you.

Warning: Mentions of murder, obsessive behavior, i think that’s it?

A/N - Be easy on ya girl this my first fic 😭 also this is a series lets gooo 🥳

He watched you intently as you shrank, minimizing yourself to occupy as little space as possible, your head down, nose deep in your paper work.

It was something you did often, stayed out of other’s way, kept your head down, avoided confrontation in order not to step on people’s toes, refrained from boasting about your success, opting to diminish your own achievements instead in order to not make others feel bad.

But you had every right to brag, you were the best lawyer in that entire fucking firm, you should be walking with your head held high, not cowering behind your cubicle, letting these people think they were above you when they were far beneath.

Terry couldn’t stand how others treated you, their condescending tones when they addressed you, nasty comments about you and your appearance disguised as jokes or poking fun.

If he had it his way all of these motherfuckers would be fired and probably six feet under.

But he couldn’t do that just yet, not until he made his way to the top as head, then you’d live a cushy life, start being respected, treated like you deserved.

That is if you’d let him.

Three years.

Three years he’s worked alongside you at the firm, three years he’s been trying to get you to go out with him, trying to convince you to be his.

At first he thought you were oblivious to his advances, your cluelessness leaving his head spinning but he quickly realized that you were just playing dumb. You knew very well that he was flirting, you just weren’t interested.

That kept him up for a few nights, trying to wrap his head around why you didn’t want him, why his feelings weren’t reciprocated.

He confronted you about it one day, cornering you in the break room.

“Morning” He greeted, large frame blocking the doorway.

“Oh goodmorning Mr. Richmond.” You shot him a small smile before turning back to the coffee pot, pouring yourself a cup full.

You added your fixings, a little sugar, a little cream, stirring it up with a spoon and bringing it to your mouth to taste.

Perfect.

You grabbed the cup beginning to make your exit but stopped in your tracks, surprised to see Terry still standing there with no sign of moving.

“Terry is everything alright?” You questioned, concern lacing your features.

He smiled a little at your use of his first name.

The first time you used it was about a year and a half ago when you worked on your very first joint case together.

It was a late night, the office was pretty much empty aside from the two of you still hard at work.

That particular case was a rough one, your client had mounds of evidence stacked against him but despite that he still stressed that he was innocent.

Terry didn’t know why but for some reason he believed the man, he just had a gut feeling and so did you.

Everyone else had no interest in defending a man who was obviously guilty so the case was left to the two of you.

That night you were hours in trying to find something, anything to point towards the man’s innocence, but attempt after attempt had failed, the two of you had gone over the case dozens of times but nothing stuck out and the frustration was starting to overflow for Terry.

“Maybe he’s not innocent, not like we thought he was. I mean this is pretty hard evidence, he was seen running out of the building shortly after gunshots went off inside, the gun is registered in his name, had his fingerprints all over it right next to the body at the scene, not only that but he was seen having a heated discussion with the victim outside of a bar just down the street 5 hours earlier there’s no way all of this is a coincidence, we’re in way over our heads.” He sighed running his hands down his face.

“I didn’t know you were one to give up so easily, you sure don’t seem like it.” You spoke.

“What?” He glanced up at you, tired eyes locking with yours.

You’re just as tired as him, your blazer falling lazily off your shoulders, glasses sliding down your nose, hair a little frizzy but despite all that you still had that look in your eyes, determination. You intended to see it through to the end.

“Look, we both had the same feeling about this, something isn’t right, our guts told us that and i don’t know about you but when my gut tells me something i listen, no matter how many doubts my mind may have.” You started.

He clenched his jaw, slightly agitated by your stubbornness but he kept his mouth shut as you continued.

“Maybe we missed something, maybe we just need to go home, get some rest and look at this again tomorrow with fresh eyes” You huffed.

“Y/n there’s nothing more to see, everything points to this guy being a killer, maybe just maybe our guts were wrong, it happens sometimes.” He sat up in his chair.

“Maybe he is but if there is even a slim chance that he isn’t and we didn’t do our best, our job, our duty to take a closer look at the details of this case to ensure that we have the right guy then we’ve failed not only him but his family, his daughters, his wife. I don’t know about you Terry but i don’t wanna be responsible for convicting an innocent man, for snatching a father away from his children, a husband away from his wife, it’d keep me up at night.” You sighed heavily, eyes pleading.

His gaze found yours again, your dark brown eyes begging, your small puffy lips tugged downward into a frown, the way his name rolled off of your tongue.

“Terry.”

He knew then and there he’d move mountains to keep you satisfied, to make you happy.

“Okay, we’ll try again tomorrow.” He nodded.

He chuckled as your face broke out into a grin.

“See you tomorrow Mr. Richmond.” You waved at him before exiting.

“Tomorrow.” He bit his lip.

“Why won’t you go out with me?” He glanced down at you.

“What? What are you talking about?” You raised a brow.

“Please Y/n enough with the games. Are you not attracted to me? Am i not your type? What is it?” He took a step forward.

“Terry…” You trailed off, eyes casting downward.

“It’s not that you’re unattractive, it’s nothing like that i’m just not… i’m not looking for anything serious right now, anything at all actually.” You whispered.

He deflated slightly, arms falling at his sides.

“I see, may i ask why?” His eyes searched yours.

“It’s too much to explain.” You bit your lip nervously.

He stepped back allowing you to pass.

You looked at him one last time, pity written all over your face.

He just smiled a tight lip smile at you and you wandered off, back toward your desk.

He clenched his jaw, eyes following you, burning holes into your back as you walked.

You said you didn’t peg him as the type to give up so easily and you were right, so you had to have known that this wasn’t over.

Right?

[venusincleo]

𝙲𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚎.

𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟶𝟷. 𝙴𝚍𝚎𝚗.

• • •

Warnings: MDNI • Terry Richmond x Black!OC Eden Laurent, a lil angsty that's all...

Summary: After the events in Shelby Springs, Terry moves out of town, and goes to Covington, LA. Messed up about what happened to his cousin, he tries to keep his head low and stack some money. Only halfway effective, with just money to show for his efforts, he slowly spirals with grief before he has a not-so-cute meeting with a young woman on her own healing journey.

Word Count: 1.1k💚

A/N: 🤭 lol I know it's been a while... I hope you enjoy this 🫶🏾

• • •

“Can we get another Associate to the registers? Another Associate to the registers, please.”

The store intercom blared over impatient customers and worn out workers. A deep breath raised Eden’s shoulders as she looked at the time on her iPhone. 4:59, Damn. She thought. She didn’t know why she hadn’t just come earlier, like she planned to, but then she remembered the extended reprise of her made up 8-count she found herself doing in her shower concert. I guess that’s a reason.

“Sir, there’s nothing else I can do, that is the final price.” The tired young lady nearly pleaded with the customer that was right before Eden, and her ears perked up to listen in.

“You can just check again. Or do I need to ask for your manager?” The man’s tall, fit stature was threatening all it’s own, but his deep voice was laced with a certain, matter-of-fact that told anyone within earshot that he meant business. Eden raised her eyebrows as she tried not to focus too much on the situation, but as she peeked over at the clerk she realized it was an acquaintance of hers. Karina may have only started working at her local grocery store a few months ago but after the first time she rung her up, they always had a kind word and bright smile for one another.

“My manager will just say the same thing.” Karina tries to explain, but the man isn’t having it. He bows his head to tauntingly reach her eye level, and his muscles get tense as he steps closer to the register.

“Get, the damn manager.” He demands, menacingly. The sand-skinned woman peers to the side of her incredulously, hoping that someone around would see her eyes and help her out.

When her deep brown eyes meet that of her acquaintance, Eden softens and quickly thinks of a way to intervene. Looking down at the keys in her hand, she found her small store card, and then she realized what she would do.

“Sir?” She calls, with a soft, cautious hand to the man’s shoulder. When he glances back, all he can do is stare at her face, seeing how she avoided eye contact with him.

Quickly dipping her hand before him to get her card scanned by Karina, Eden hears the successful chime of the scanner and hopes for the best.

“Okay, now your total will be 28.92.” A quick sigh of relief sounds from the scary man, and then Eden notices his head turning in her direction yet again. Bright, jade-green eyes give her face a quick once over, and then they meet her deep, smoky-quarts orbs.

“Thank you.” All she can do is give him a small smile and nod. She didn’t want to trigger him any more than he already had been.

The man grabs his plastic store bag full of goods and makes his way through the automatic doors, relieving the store of the tensity he brought. Eden puts her few items on the scuffed conveyer belt and the clerk sighs softly.

“Girl. You don’t know how grateful I am for you right now.” She admits, scanning the items quickly. Eden chuckles lightly, looking at the white screen right in front her with her total. She held her store card out to be scanned and the clerk did so cheerfully. After inserting her debit card, and hearing the tune of a successful transaction, she puts it in its rightful place within her wallet and reaches for her bag.

“Thank you, girl.”

Gratefulness fills Eden’s stride as she walks out of the establishment, heading for her car, when a voice stops her right in her tracks.

“Excuse me.” His clear, yet deep voice was distinctive, and she recognized it. He waited for me?

She turns on the heels of her Doc Martens and her hand instinctively clutches the handle of her grocery bag. Just in case she had to hit a nigga with a carton of Almond Milk.

“I didn’t mean to scare you. I just wanted to say thank you for what you did in there. I’m not usually so harsh, I’m just having a bit of a day.” Eden slits her eyes at the large man, examining him to try and figure out why he would be telling her this. Hmm.

With a glance to the side at the half empty lot, and then back at the man before her, she drops her shoulders reluctantly. A resistant sigh leaves her mouth quietly, and she loosens her grip on her bag.

“Look, I get it. We all have a shadow that likes to come out and play a little.” The man nods his head as the ghost of a smile plays at his lips. She was revealing a bit of her understanding nature, and it didn’t go unnoticed, at all.

“I’m Terry.” He held his free hand out in between them, and the young woman took a half-step forward to fill his hand with hers.

“Eden.” They shook hands for a quick moment, feeling the warmth of one another’s palms. Their eyes searched each of the other’s and then they dropped their hands simultaneously.

As if she was motivated by something she didn’t quite comprehend just yet, Eden reached into her cross-body purse that hung over her shoulder and grabbed a pen. She then dug into her grocery bag and pulled out her receipt to flip it to the blank side.

“If you ever want to talk about what made your day so stressful,” She began, using her other palm as a flat surface to scribble her number on her receipt. She then ripped it from the rest of the thin paper and slipped the pen back into her bag smoothly, as she held the torn piece of paper in front of Terry to grasp. “I know someone who may be able to help.”

He’s hesitant at first, not really knowing what she meant by help. Therapy? Sex? She could truly mean either one.

Taking his chances, the curious man grabbed the small paper from Eden’s hand and looked over the scratchy penmanship. 985-882-2353.

“I’ll take that into consideration.” He half-joked, lifting the edges of his mouth to force a smile at the young lady through his now stoic demeanor. Eden’s cheeks couldn’t help but to raise at the rising awkwardness of the moment.

“Have a good day, Terry.” She waves smally, and turns the other way to go her car, and on with her day.

Part Two. The Tide.

• • •

♥︎ I do not condone any translations, replications or plagiarisms of my original work. Please do not repost as your own. Reblogs and comments/notes welcome. ♥︎

[uzumaki-rebellion]

Soon come...

Summary:

A love-sick woman discovers her neighbor's secret A.I. companion and borrows him for a destination wedding cruise to get her ex boyfriend jealous of her new single life. Unfortunately, the sexy humanoid robot throws a wrench in her plans by developing a crush on her.

(Preview coming at the end of next month. This story is based on a dark romantic SF book idea I developed for trad publishing last year, but I wanted to play with a different form of A.I. in a lighter setting using one of the themes I explore in the other full-length version. My bestie and my editor friend have got on me this week about pushing forward with trad publishing trenches this year, so I'm trying to write as much fanfiction as I can before delving back into the other side of publishing hardcore!)

[violetmuses]

@episodes-ff 👀

Touched

This a cute lil something something that I had playing out in my head for a few weeks now so I thought I’d put it into reality. Enjoyyyy!!!!

**SIX YEARS AGO**

Anaya

"Boyyyyyy, I am not doing all that!" I giggled over FaceTime as Terry begged for me to come with him to the club with his friends. It's been a month since Terry and I have started talking and one thing I've learned about him is he is very much persistent to get what he wants. We’ve been playfully going back and forth over the last hour because his cousin Mike is in town and he wants me to come out. “Come on, girl, we talk on the phone enough. I wanna see your pretty ass in person.” He smirked as he rid himself of his sweaty gym clothes. Eyeing his moist torso through the screen, I subconsciously bit my lip analyzing the sculpted details of his perfect body as my body flushed with heat.

"You know, Anaya, it's a little rude to stare." He husked smoothly causing me to scoff. "Boy whatever! I was not looking at your arrogant ass." I fussed making him laugh as I waved him off. "You haven't taken your eyes off me since we got on the phone, girl. Just admit you want me, Mamas." He flirted causing me to flip him the bird. "When?" "Never." "We'll see." He fought back as I rolled my eyes. "Imma have yo pretty ass." He mumbled under his breath while grabbing a water from his kitchen. "You said what?" "Nothing." "You know you talk a lot of shit?" "Why are you such a hater, Anaya?" "Why are you so annoying, Terry?" I countered as he bit his lip and shook his head at me deep in thought. "Come out with me. I'm not taking no either." Taking a gulp of water as he stared me down in the camera, my pussy subtly throbbed under the eye contact before I let out a deep groan. "Ugghhhhh fine! Damn!" "Now was it so hard to listen to Daddy?" "You are not my damn Daddy." "Not yet." He once again mumbled yet again thinking I hadn’t caught it. "Send the address and get off my phone." I fussed before he chuckled heartily and I hung up. Hearing a ping, I checked my texts to confirm before I got up to go find an outfit.

Taking in my appearance, I smiled doing a slow whine of my hips before taming any fly aways in my hair. Doing a final spin, I made sure Bash was well fed before securing my heels and purse before making my way downstairs to my awaiting Uber. Arriving to the club, I thanked my driver before hopping out and making my way up to the line. Standing and waiting, I texted Terry to let him know I had arrived before feeling a tap on my shoulder. Looking up I was met with a security guard. "Anaya?" "Ummmm, Yes." "Follow me." Smiling shyly as he opened the belt to let me out of line, I followed behind as the crowd groaned with having to wait. Walking inside the loud club, I got a bit of hype as the vibes and music engulfed me. Bodies collided hungrily on the dance floor while sections were lined with the cream of the crop.

Walking me over to a section, I spotted him amongst a group of guys looking as good as our first meeting. He looked so good, I could just take a bite out of him where he stood. Getting caught so deep in my thoughts, I hadn't noticed him walking over and standing in front of me until he snapped his fingers in my ear. "Huh?" "I was saying you finally made it. Damn, Mama, I know I'm handsome but I ain't know you would get lost in the sauce." He gloated laughing as I shot a sarcastic smirk at him. "Boy! You are not all that." "Shiiiit, I can be whatever you want me to be, baby." He breathed against my ear as he snaked his hand around my back to touch my waist. Feeling slightly flush in his hold, I cleared my throat before meeting his eyes as he bit his lip. "Ayeee, Tee! You not gone introduce us?" One of his friends questioned breaking us from our staring match. "My fault my fault. Y'all this is Anaya. Anaya, this is my cousin Mike and my homeboys, Brandon, Eric, Ace, and my homegirls Bree, Leah, and Asha." Introducing myself with a wave, I received a round of friendly hey's from the guys before feeling ravenous daggers coming from the girls as I noticed Bree staring down Terry. Internally rolling my eyes, I shrugged off their evil looks before gently smiling as Terry wrapped his hand around my waist.

Terry

Tonight was supposed to be a chill ass night with the guys, enjoying a few drinks, and getting to know Anaya better, but this shit been anything but. Ace bitch ass would invite Bree and her girls on some funny shit and their messy asses would convince her to come out. I don't even know why the hell she's so pressed anyway; we hooked up twice a few years ago and she decided we'd be better off staying friends. She's had boyfriends and all types of shit but the one time I bring a girl around that I care for, it's a problem. They been being so shady and rude to Naya all night and she hasn't been nothing but nice to em.

Watching her start twirling her hips in the section as the next song came on, I decided to get up and make my move. "C'mere." "What?" "Dance with me." I husked in her ear as the music blasted. Looking up at me and shyly nodding, I took her hand and lead her through the crowd to the dance floor. Pulling her up close to me, the beat vibrated through our bodies as she wound her waist against me and bit her lip. Bending forward, she twerked as the crowd got hype cheering her on. Holding onto her backside, I caught the rhythm as my homeboys held me up so she could take me for a ride. Hearing the DJ transition to the next song, she rose up and giggled as I smiled whipping her around to face me. "So you can dance, huh?" "Something like that. I see you can catch a lil rhythm too." "Something like that." I smiled pulling her closer and rubbing her body as we got carried away in the beat.

Feeling her fall forward, she turned around and eyed Leah as she sipped her drink. "Oh my gosh, girl. I am so sorry!" She muttered sarcastically as I mugged her. Waving her off, I turned Anaya back to me and whispered against her neck. "Ignore her." I commanded as I tilted her chin up to look at me. The electricity between us was crazy right now. I could almost feel it crackling off her lips. Leaning in to seize the moment, we were once again being bumped. "Yo what the fuck?!" "Really, Terry?! This how the fuck you gone do me after everything we shared?" Bree spat in anguish as her girls nodded in fake support. "Yo, Bree, back the fuck up away from me, aight? You tripping!" "No nigga, you tripping! I can't believe you throwing away what we have for this bitch!" "WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU CALLING A BITCH, TRICK?!" Anaya seethed mushing Bree in the forehead as I stepped in to break them up. "What the fuck is your issue, bruh? We never had shit, never fucking will." "Oh really? So why were you in my fucking bed last night if we don't have shit?! Huh?" She spat flashing a devious smirk as Anaya threw her hands up and stormed off. "Anaya wait!" "No! Clearly you got your hands full already, I knew this shit was too good to be true." She murmured on the verge of tears as she snatched away from me and headed to the bar.

Anaya

Having a seat at the bar, I rolled my eyes and rubbed my temples as I waved for the bartender. Struggling to get his attention, I continued waving my hand before feeling a hand on my waist. "No need, lil mama, allow me. Aye, my man!" This guy said quickly getting the bartender over. "For the lady?" "Can I get two shots of tequila?" "I'll get the same and lemme get a whiskey sour." "Coming right up!" "Thank you." "No problem at all. I'm Rome, by the way." "Anaya." "That's a beautiful name, miss Anaya." He flashed his gleaming smile before kissing my hand gently. Blushing uncontrollably, I took one of my shots and took in his features. "Anaya, can we talk?" Terry said in a huff as he came up to me interrupting our moment. "We don't have anything to talk about Terry." "I'm serious, Anaya. I'm sorry for what happened back there with Bree. We had a very short lived fling a few years ago and that's all. I promise to you I haven't laid a finger on that girl since. I swear to God, Anaya. Please?" He pleaded staring me down with those eyes. Those goddamn eyes! "Terry, it is what it is. Go be happy with her. I don't wanna talk about this anymore." "But Anay-" "Umm, I believe she said the conversation is over with, my man." "My nigga, I'm not talking to you." "From the looks of it, neither is she." Rome interjected stepping between us as I looked on in shock. Not gonna lie it kinda turned me on...

Feeling Terry's glare burning into my soul, I swallowed the lump in my throat before looking up at him. Seeing the anger slowly brewing inside him, I knew he meant business and while I didn't know what either man was capable of, I could quickly tell that Terry wasn't with the games. "I-It's ok, Rome. I got this." I said touching his strong shoulder as I stood and took my last shot. "You sure you okay?" "Yes. Thank you so much for the drinks." I smiled gently before encasing him in a side hug. "No problem at all, lil mama. I'll see you around?" "Sure thing, let me get your number." Taking down his digits as Terry's foot twitched in agitation as I said my farewell. "If you need anything at all, give me a call." Rome whispered against my neck as I nodded. "Thank you again." I said before leaving in a rush as Terry pushed through the club to the exit.

"Can you slow the fuck down? Fuck!" I spat removing my heels so I wouldn't fall as he trekked quickly to his truck. "Hush, Anaya! Gone sit there and take that nigga number down in my fucking face. Out yo fucking mind." He ranted as I tensed at the harshness of his voice. "Get in the car." "Terry, where are you taking me." "Get the fuck in the mothafucking car, Anaya." Silently getting in, he slammed my door before getting in his side and locking the doors. What the fuck did I get myself into?

Tags: @violetmuses @kaylaahisthebestest- @theereina @believeinthefireflies95 @brisunique @madxlov3 @casualsludgeshoetoad @mauvecherie-writes @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @kumkaniudaku @geneziesm @megamindsecretlair @simpledopeme @goldenjasssy @vivaalenaa @playgurlxoxo @ghettogirly @luuvprincess @perfectlyimperfectme @tbmotw @comfortzonequeen @melanin-honeyy @strawberrymoon45 @luckygirlszn @kindofaintrovert @secretlifeoofmarpessa @cmbmjbfan @summwerella @qdancer22 @ihateyallniggas @rebelrel0987 @cheracherachera @bhristpher @cocooned-butterfly @ovohanna24 @theblessedcap @deijalee @ranikyani @catha2003 @magik22 @sweettea-and-honeybutter @pinkbuzzlightyrrr @justicefordeanthomas @liv10002 @kalideshawnwrites @j0joworld @withoutmusiclifewouldbflat @ladynotdiana @mymindisneverhere @brattyfics

It's so many more of y'all I can tag but my hands are cramping. I love you guys SOOOOOOO MUCH!!!! TYSM FOR THE CONTINUED LOVE AND SUPPORT! IT MEANS SO MUCH TO ME YOU HAVE NO CLUE!!!

[violetmuses]

The lack of Terry + Jess content is bothering me. 👀

@pocketsizedpanther @episodes-ff @babybratzmaraj @persethegawd @secretlifeoofmarpessa @diaries-of-me @sweettea-and-honeybutter @blackgurlnhermoods 🏷

[erikftglitter]

Christmas in Winona Springs 🎄🤍

Chapter List

Intro

[violetjedisylveon]

I can’t help but throw in some ideas for the Shadowpeach celestial prince Macaque au

If we wanna go the comedy route a bit more, all the stuff that happens to Wukong pre-journey are all trials from the in-laws to earn their approval (which Wukong could honestly care less about but Macaque wants it it so he’ll suck it up and play nice-ish and it does earn him points since he’s like the only one whose ever tried to earn their approval instead of just eloping)

Stuck in the furnace until he can prove he can escape? Challenge Accepted.

Prove his immortalities by enduring the execution attempts? Easy.

Prove his devotion by self-reflecting under a mountain, being fed only molten copper and ice-cold iron for 500 days? The assholes failed to mention it was 500 celestial days but he came out on top.

Jade Emperor, visibly seething: You have endured all of these trials and proven your devotion to my son. As such, I and this court will give approval for your courtship of Prin-

Celestial messenger *bursts into the Court*: THE PRINCESS IRON FAN HAS ELOPED WITH THE DEMON BULL KING, SWORN BROTHER OF SUN WUKONG!

Jade Emperor:…

Sun Wukong:…

Jade Emperor:… For your brother’s actions, I need you to escort this mortal to India to pick up some scrolls. No flying allowed.

Sun Wukong: OH COME ON!

Jade Emperor: No monk with Buddhist scrolls, no approval.

Previous

Oh my gods yes! That kinda reminds me of the Eros and Psyche myth, which is great!

Macaque really wants his parents approval for two main reasons. 1, so him and his family don't end up cursed or suffering some other terrible fate like his sisters and aunt did, and 2, celestial monkey pregnancies are strange and dangerous and he needs the support network of his family.

And Wukong's also gotta pay for the crimes he did before the miscommunication was solved, they aren't just gonna let that slide cause Wukong is young, dumb and not the best at thinking things through.

Fingers are pointed at Azure for trying to start a conflict because he was a celestial, he knows macaque is a prince, he get into more trouble for the whole actually rebelling thing than Wukong because Wukong was just impulsive and actively being misled.

And Wukong does get in-law brownie points for not eloping with their son and actually earning their approval, they won't admit it but he's at the top of their list for favorite son in law.

So he goes through all these trials while macaque is at home being like "dad stop torturing my boyfriend!"

JE is definitely being a bit petty in the situation, but by the time the mountain trial is done he's begrudgingly willing to allow the courtship to happen.

Then DBK and Iron Fan elope and he's pissed and blames Wukong for introducing them, which he is guilty of, so now he's gotta babysit a squishy mortal for 15 years.

Macaque is not pleased because the babies refuse to be born until their parents are together, and he's already been pregnant for 500 years.

Wukong is mad at DBK for not also trying to get approval and making his courtship approval even more difficult. There are definitely some slaps when they meet up again, then gushing over baby Red Son.

No pain crown for the monkey man here, but the pilgrims do gotta deal with him pining and waxing poetic about the love of his life, Ao Lie's very happy to learn about his brother's soon to be husband.

Meanwhile Camel Ridge trio is not very pleased by their brothers betrayal for pretty faces, and are making plans. >:3

Thanks for asking!

[violetmuses]

@mauvecherie-writes 18+ MINORS DNI 👀

Goodness! 😳

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