#terry enjoying some praise himself

[megamindsecretlair]

Girrrlll a thought if you will but Terry Richmond the idea of a breeding kink with him. A thought that randomly popped into my unhinged brain for him. Cause GIRL! He’s already toxic in bed and just add that to the mix.

A/N: You sneakin a peek at my drafts????

I Swear I'll Never Leave

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

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. SMUT. PWP, cursing, PIV, angst if you squint, fingering (fem receiving), teasing, size kink, dirty talk, mean Terry, daddy kink, praise kink, spanking, breeding kink, overstimulation, hair pulling, manhandling, persuasion through the power of dick, all consensual. Sorry if I missed some.

Summary: See Ask. When Terry comes to pick up your daughter, you can’t help picking a fight with him. He sends your daughter outside to wait with Mike while he makes sure you understand a few things.

Word Count: 4,909k

AO3 Link

A/N: WHEW. I hope this lives up to the hype. This is close to the daydream I had. Ya'll know how hard it is to match it perfectly lol. This hurt ME so I hope you enjoy. Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment, gif, or unhinged ask.

Loud banging on the metal door tore your attention away from your Kindle. You groaned and looked at the time on your alarm clock. It was past two. One of your biggest pet peeves about your baby daddy was that he was annoyingly on time. You were not.

You groaned and got up from bed, picking up the pace once you heard your daughter, Cadence, hopping up and down on your hardwood floors. “Daddy’s here! Daddy’s here!” She giggled, hopping in a circle outside of your room.

“Yes, baby, I heard him,” you said, hunting for your robe. You were only in a giant red sleep shirt while you waited for laundry to get done. The banging continued and you took your precious time finding said robe. That man would just have to wait. 

“Mommy, he’s hereeeee,” Cadence sang, bouncing on the balls of her little feet. 

“Yes, baby, I know. What did we say about patience?” You asked, grabbing your robe from your chair and putting it on. It was actually an old one of Terry’s that was soft and reminded you of him. 

Cadence sighed and stuck out her bottom lip. She looked down and sighed again. “Sometimes we have to wait for what we want,” she said, her voice sounding the complete opposite from what it was before. 

You chuckled and tapped her nose. “Alright now. Go get your things and I’ll let your daddy in, okay?” You asked.

Cadence’s smile returned full force, lighting up her face that looked so much like Terry. Like he spat the baby out and you just carried her. It was honestly disrespectful. Terry banged on the door once more, getting louder and more annoying with it.

You huffed and walked to the front of the house, opening the wooden door. “Can you stop banging on my door like you the police?” You asked. 

Terry chuckled and scratched at his beard. The stubble made him look more rugged and you fought a shiver as you took in the rest of him. He wore black sweats and a matching black tank top molded to his body. 

Tank tops were made for someone like him. Someone so chiseled and well defined. He still kept up his training, still made sure to spend hours in the gym keeping up his physique. It was annoying as hell. Like why couldn’t he let himself go? Couldn’t he make it easier to leave him alone? 

“If you just gave me a key…��� Terry said, leaning against the metal door. His gorgeousness was disrupted by the metal screen and you took a deep breath. Facing Terry was like coming into contact with the divine. He was far from a saint, but he was so damn pretty. 

“Nice try. Can’t have you walking in if I have company,” you said, opening the door, finally. Terry’s ever changing eyes watched your every movement. He smiled once you were revealed and you tightened the string on the robe. 

“If you miss me, just say that,” he said, his eyes going lower and lower. You crossed your legs and your arms, communicating to him that you were closed for business. 

“I’m doing mighty fine without you, thank you,” you said. You looked behind you. For all her excitement, what the hell was taking Cadence so long? 

“Mhm,” Terry hummed, smirk curling his lips. You ignored him, tapping your foot on the ground. 

“It’s been four months. When are you gonna let me back in?” Terry moved to take up the entire door frame with his height and size. He wore a do-rag on his head, the ends tucked in. Dressed in all black as he was, he may as well have been a giant red flag.

“How about…October 32nd?” You asked, grinning at him. 

Terry chuckled. “That’s not what you said last time,” he said. 

“I was drunk last time. I would’ve said anything to get off,” you said, just as Cadence came flying through the living room.

“Dadddddyyyyyyyy!” She screamed and launched herself at him. He bent down at the last minute and caught her, giving her a giant hug and swinging her from side to side. 

“How is my little baby?” He asked. He hefted Cadence onto his hip and looked up at her. The grin on her face. You smiled and took out your phone to capture a photo of the both of them. Terry hung the moon as far as your daughter was concerned. As long as he remained a good father, you weren’t going to stand in the way of that. 

She was old enough to realize that daddy was no longer at home with her, but young enough to not fully realize why. You didn’t have the words to explain to her that you loved Terry, but you couldn’t be in the same room with him without wanting to commit bloody murder. 

 Cadence chattered away, telling Terry everything he missed since the last time he saw her. He listened to everything, casting glances at you. You shared a smile with him, admiring this beautiful, creative daughter you made together. 

“I can’t wait to hear more, baby, but I need to talk to mommy. Go play with Uncle Mike until we’re done,” he said.

“We don’t have to talk,” you said. If he went on and left, you could enjoy the rest of your holiday weekend doing absolutely fucking nothing. After laundry and the dishes, you planned on relaxing tonight. You just needed to decide on which type of alcohol to accompany you. 

Terry flicked his eyes to you and raised an eyebrow. You rolled your eyes. The fuck does he want? 

Cadence pouted as Terry put her down but she saw Mike leaning against Terry’s truck. He waved to you and you returned it, watching Cadence run into his arms with the same force she did for Terry. Mike scooped her up and gave her a big hug, tickling her. 

Terry stepped into the house like he owned it. Sure, both of your names were on the deed, but that didn’t mean shit. “Hey!” You called after him and then closed the door. 

Terry looked around and you spread your arms, following behind him. “What the hell are you doing?” You asked. 

Terry checked the living room and then turned back to you with a smirk on his lips. He approached you and you backed away. You realized what he was doing and then stopped, held your ground. Terry encroached into your personal space, looking down his wide nose at you. 

“I know you miss me,” he said. 

You laughed and shook your head. “The fuck make you think that?” You asked and crossed your arms. 

“You pick fights when you need some dick,” he said.

You sputtered as your brain stalled. You wanted to yell at him, curse him, and kick his ass out of your house. But your body was a traitor. You flushed with heat and you grew wet between your legs. 

Fuck. Tequila it was tonight as you threw on a good porno and got yourself off. You had been feeling restless lately, feeling like you wanted to chew through bricks if it meant getting some relief. Ovulation week was horrible. Nothing but dick on the brain and how soon you could get some. How he knew that was a damn mystery, but you tightened the belt on the robe to the point of pain and then re-crossed your arms. 

“That’s not true,” you said. 

Terry advanced on you, pushing you backwards with a few fingers on your tummy. Your back hit the door frame separating the front room from the hallway. Once he had you where he wanted, he pulled at the robe you had on. Your thighs tingled and he opened the robe to reveal your sleep shirt. 

“Laundry day?” He asked.

“How the fu–”

Terry leaned down and brought his lips to yours. He stopped just before contact and you smelled the fresh mint on his breath. “Don’t you know by now that I notice everything about you?” He asked. 

He curled a finger under your chin and lifted it until you looked into the deep pool of his eyes. His thumb stroked your chin and your pussy felt it. It throbbed and the wetness got worse. 

You licked your lips and huffed, giving him a shrug. “I don’t need any help, thank you,” you said. You pushed at his shoulder but he didn’t budge. Didn’t even pretend to. You sighed and tried a different tactic. “Cadence has been looking forward to today for a while. You shouldn’t keep her waiting.”

Terry’s smile was slow and near animalistic. “Speaking of, isn’t it time for us to have another?” He asked. 

You burst with laughter, the force of it stealing your breath. You shook your head and looked at him. His eyes were trained on you, tracking everything, before you burst into laughter once more. You wiped the corners of your eyes and shook your head. “Fuck no,” you said. 

“You sure? Remember how much fun we had making Cadence?” He asked. He kissed the corner of your mouth and then moved his hand from your chin, down around your breast, and then further down to your stomach.

He flattened his big hand across your tummy, giving it a squeeze. His palm was warm, seeping through your shirt. If you had on panties, they’d be ruined by now. You were too turned on. Too flushed with heat. Too down bad to continue even the smallest torture. And he knew it. 

He hummed as he sighed with satisfaction, like he just confirmed something he had been questioning. He blinked and that turned you on. That’s how you knew you were fucked. “Let’s make a son,” he said.

“So I can go through pregnancy alone? Again?” You asked. 

Terry winced and you immediately felt bad. That was below the belt. You sighed and leaned away from him, pushing at his hand. “This is why we don’t work,” you whispered. Terry made you bring your claws out. Wanting to hurt him. And that wasn’t what relationships were about. You shouldn’t want to hurt the love of your life. 

Terry kept his hand on your belly and brought his other hand to cup your cheek. “I know I fucked up. But we do work well together,” he said. 

“You didn’t! I was…” You groaned and threw up your hands. Once more, you tried to fight him. To move. To get out from under his influence. He was your worst drug of choice and you were too weak to stay away. Too weak to walk away. 

Terry stayed in place. He kept his hand cupped to your cheek, holding you in place, and moved his other hand from your stomach down to the edge of your shirt. You gasped as he lifted it, inch by slow, torturous inch, and then skated his fingers along the crease between your thigh and pelvis. His rough fingers felt too good and you leaned into it before catching yourself. 

Terry hummed as he moved his fingers between your legs, seeking between your damp curls, and then wiggling between your pussy lips. You hissed and held onto his shoulders, dug your nails in. 

Terry kissed your cheek. “This is why we work well together. The way you respond…you can’t fake that,” he said. He brought his forehead to the side of yours, fingers starting to play with your essence. He always stopped before he got too close to your clit. 

“We can’t build something on a foundation of sex, Terry,” you said.

“That isn’t our foundation. We still love each other. We’re still in love with each other,” he said, his deep voice was like a physical caress on your body. You felt it along the curves of your hips and the dip between your thighs. You spread your legs wider, giving him more access. 

Your skin felt like it was going to burn to a crisp. You sunk your nails into his shoulders and Terry groaned, rolling his hips forward. You looked down and saw the tent he pitched in his sweats, giving you a nice outline of his dick. His glorious, beautiful dick.

Your thoughts turned fuzzy as he continued to tease you. He’d definitely hit that spot. That deep spot inside that only he could reach. You were pretty sure he created that spot just for him, knowing damn well no other man would compare to his size. Compared to the way he took care of you in the bedroom.

Combined with your hormones going haywire, your knees grew weaker. Your clit throbbed as his questing fingers grew closer and you whimpered as he moved away, swirling figure eight’s with your essence. 

“Let me cum,” you whispered, moving your hips to chase after his fingers. 

“Let me back in the house,” he countered. You sighed and rubbed your head against his.

“Terry…” You said. 

He called your name and then moved his fingers to your entrance. You gasped and he lifted your chin. He pulled back to look into your eyes. Your eyelids were heavy, drooping on a mix of ovulation and lust. 

You were leaving half moons in his skin from your nails. You relaxed and rubbed the pain away. It gave you something to focus on other than his beautiful hands playing you like a damn fiddle. 

Terry pushed his middle finger into your pussy and you moaned, loudly, lewdly, mouth falling open and closed. You wanted to make another sound but fuck if you knew what it would be. 

“How long has it been since last time? Since I was playing in this pussy?” Terry asked. He stepped closer. You brought your leg up to rub against his thigh. It opened you up further for him to pump his thick finger in and out of you. 

In no time, he had you moaning and biting your lip. You were so close…almost there…and…Terry pulled his finger out. You groaned and looked at him. He smirked while he brought his finger to his mouth and suckled. 

“Get that sexy ass on our bed,” Terry said. He moved back slowly so you’d have a chance to lower your leg. 

You whined and stomped your foot. Terry tilted his head. You sighed and moved away from him, marching your ass to the bed. “This is the last time, Terry,” you said over your shoulder. Out from underneath him, clarity returned to your brain. 

You were saying yes for you. You were saying yes because you deserved it. You were saying yes because fuck, it’d been two weeks since he blew your back out and you needed that same loving to get you through the next two weeks. 

In two weeks, you’d be stronger. You’d be able to resist him. You’d be able to look across the threshold at him, picking up your daughter, and not feel that tug towards him. That glimpse into the man you fell in love with before he went into the service. You’d remain unaffected and in control.

Tonight, you were just ready to turn your brain off. Ready to fuck him like you missed him and then let him go after. You walked into your bedroom and moved your Kindle to the nightstand. Terry’s heavy footfalls sounded behind you, matching the beat of your erratic heart. 

“You said that last time,” he said. 

You smoothed out the comforter, in your favorite color, and rolled your eyes. “And I meant it. I mean it now,” you said.

Terry chuckled. “Yes, ma’am. And you’ll mean it next time?” He asked. 

Terry opened the cabinet in your hallway and took out a towel. You lifted your eyes at him. “Someone’s a little confident,” you said. 

“It’s cute when you try to act tough. Like you not drooling over this dick,” he said. He entered the room and took a look around. You wondered if he was comparing things to the last time he was here. Cadence was away at a sleepover and you broke down and asked him to come over to handle the heat between your thighs. 

“Drooling?” You asked and laughed. “If you desperate for this kitty, just say that.” 

“I’m desperate for it,” he said, flicking his warm eyes towards you. You snapped your mouth shut and stared while he laid the towel down on the edge of the bed. He finished and then crossed the room to you.

“You can pretend all you want, but if you didn’t want me? You wouldn’t have worn this,” he said and pulled off the robe. He balled it up and then tossed it to the chair where it usually resided. You licked your lips for lack of a better response. Because…fair.

“And, you would have put on some panties. Some pants,” he said. He lifted your shirt off in one rough yank and you gasped. Terry hummed and looked you up and down. “And you definitely wouldn’t have answered the door like this. Since you did, that can only mean you need me.”

“Need is such a big word,” you said. 

Terry slipped his fingers into your hair and pulled. You moaned and closed your eyes. He walked with you like that, fist full of your hair, to the edge of the bed. He made you climb on the foot of the bed and once in position, he moved you to face the corner of your room. 

The floor mirror showed your reflection, hair pulled up and away in Terry’s hand. He looked at you like he wanted to eat you alive. You absolutely missed this. Missed the way he looked at you like he couldn’t breathe without your smile in his life. Your body naturally bent forward, sticking your ass higher.

Terry locked eyes with you in the mirror. “Need is a very big word,” he said. He smacked your ass and moaned in the back of his throat. 

The pain in your ass blossomed, radiated with fire. Terry delivered a few more smacks. Each one stung worse than the last, but you started to look forward to his smacks. You lifted your ass higher, meeting his hand. Your pussy dripped with your essence. You moaned, pussy clenching as you looked at the focus on his face. The determination. 

His mouth was twisted and his eyebrows were furrowed as he painted your ass with his hand. You started to shake, started to tremble, before he stopped and smoothed his hand down your ass. 

You hissed and moaned, pushing your ass into his hand. Terry yanked on your hair and you groaned as you lifted off of the bed. 

“Look at me,” he ordered. You found his eyes in the mirror. He smiled as he lowered his sweats and then plunged inside of you in one rough thrust. 

“Fuuuuuuuck,” you gasped. Terry’s smirk grew wider. He held firm to your hair, pulling to the point of pain, while he kept himself buried to the hilt. Your nails dug into the sheets, pulled at the covers.

“Look so fuckin’ gorgeous takin’ dick,” he said. 

Your fist pounded feebly on the bed. You couldn’t move unless he willed it. You could only look at the satisfaction on his face. “Condom,” you choked out. 

“We don’t need one, do we?” He asked. He pulled out and then pushed back in. You felt every inch of him. Every long, beautiful inch of his dick sliding against your wet walls. 

Now was not the right time for another baby. You finally felt like you had a handle on Cadence. And she was plenty to handle on a good day. “She won’t forgive us for another baby,” you said, trying to come up for a good reason not to let him bathe your insides. At the moment, everything was coming up short. He and your body were working against your higher functioning. Breaking you down to the basest drive to fuck and make babies. 

Terry pushed in and out of you a few more times, letting your essence coat his dick. “She’ll forgive us,” he said and sped up, slamming his hips into yours. He tightened his hold on your hair, pulling your neck to the side so he could lean down and lick. 

You moaned and shivered, a tingle spreading throughout your body. He stroked, moving his hips, and hitting it just like you needed it. 

“Look how sexy you look,” he said. He pulled your hair and made you lift your face to the mirror. You saw your mouth dropped open, eyes at half mast, ass in the air. Terry hovered on top of you, muscles bunching and flexing beneath his effort. 

“Fuck, Terry, fuck, fuck,” you moaned. Your body raced towards an orgasm. There was no teasing, no playing coy or shy. There was just the feel of him inside of you. Where he belonged. Where he needed to be. You came in no time, embarrassingly easy, and you screamed your release. 

Terry kissed and licked your neck and ear, moaning. His breaths fanned across your neck, right where he licked, and it raised goosebumps on your flesh. 

“Missed this pussy. Missed the way you ride me,” he moaned. 

“Shh, you talk too damn much,” you said, waving him away. One orgasm only fed the next one, making your thighs shake on him. His thighs hit your ass, creating a perfect, rhythmic smack that was seriously turning you on. 

Terry yanked on your hair until you brought your hands up to clutch at his hand. You were on your knees, chest poked out, hissing with pain. Your pussy clenched around his dick, unable to hide how much it turned you on when he manhandled you. 

“I think you forgot who you’re talking to,” he said. He kissed your cheek and looked at you in the mirror.

“Wait, wait, I’m sorry,” you said. You shook your head. 

Terry grinned, showing off that beautiful, devastating smile of his. He grabbed your titty, squeezed the fuck out of your sensitive nipple, and then started ramming in and out of you. “Oh fuck, oh fuck,” you screamed. 

His dick speared you, slamming into your walls. Your very womb ached from his strokes. Wet, loud squelching filled the room. Terry moaned, cursing low and under his breath. Thank god for the towel. You were soaked. And you were flooding his dick with your essence, making you into a slip n’ slide. 

Terry groaned, getting lost in it, as he fucked you like a toy. “Takin’ me so well, you a professional, huh?” He asked.

You shook your head, unable to speak. Unable to hear properly. He found that deep spot inside, practically kissing your cervix, dick hitting it with precision. You moaned, low and long. You squeezed the hand that held your hair and he ignored you. 

“Keep this up, you gon’ make me bust. That’s what you want, right?” He asked. 

You nodded. Fuck, yes, you wanted it. You needed it. You needed his cum inside of you. You wanted to be the only receptacle for his cum. If it wasn’t in his hand, you wanted it all over you and inside of you. You wanted, you wanted, you wanted.

“Words,” he said. Both of you grew damp with sweat. Bodies sliding against each other. Grabbing onto each other for dear life. As if the moment you let go, you’d fade away forever. You’d drown and lose yourself and he was your only tether to the real world. It came down to you connected to him. 

“I can’t,” you moaned. You weren’t going to last much longer. You were close again. So fuckin’ close that it hurt. Your tummy cramped, the need to cum overwhelming. You also didn’t want to give in. Didn’t want to concede.

“Admit you need me,” he said. 

“Terry, please,” you whined. Terry slowed down his strokes. “No, no, no!” 

Terry moved his hand from your titty to lay across your entire chest. He kept you upright with his arm, hand grabbing your other titty so he could roll your nipple between his fingers. You whined and cried, tears gathering in your eyes. “Please,” you whimpered.

“Say you miss me. Say you want this baby I’m finna give you,” he said. He locked eyes with you in the mirror. 

He saw everything. Saw the way you were sniffling and pleading with your eyes. You squeezed his hand that was still clutching your hair but he refused to move. His dick throbbed, still lodged inside you, and you wanted to collapse. This was too much for you. Too intense. 

“Terry,” you begged. 

Terry kissed your cheek, the space beneath your ear, and then licked the shell of your ear. “I need to hear it,” he said, his voice low. 

You closed your eyes as you retreated from the edge. You groaned as you could feel it going away.

“I need to hear that you crave this dick. That you get flashbacks, times when I hit it well. That you wake up in the middle of the night, burning, wanting to call me but knowing that if you do, it’s just one more step to me moving back in. Moving back in and taking care of you, of Cadence, of this baby,” he said. He couldn’t help moving a little, rocking you up and down his dick once.

“Fuck,” you moaned. Your pussy clenched around him and Terry groaned. 

“I know that pussy want it. Hear how she talkin’? What she trynna say to me?” He asked. 

“Don’t stop,” you moaned, voice breathy. “Don’t stop. Don’t stop.” 

“What’s she really saying?” He asked.

“I want that baby,” you moaned. Fuck, how could you not? How could you not want another tether to him? Another way to call him yours? 

Your problems were in the back of your mind. You were tired of sleeping in a cold bed. Tired of handling Cadence by yourself. Tired of doing this shit by yourself. You wanted your man at home. Wanted him deep in your pussy whenever the mood struck.

“That’s my girl,” he said. He started moving again, slamming his dick in and out of you. He moved his hand from your titties to your stomach, stopping to squeeze your belly. You moaned and he squeezed again. 

You loved when he did that. When he touched you possessively. Hungrily. Like there was too much skin for him to get to at once. Like he wanted it all, wanted every last inch of you there was to have. You matched his strokes, throwing it back on him. 

Terry groaned and moved his hands to your pussy, pushing past your pussy lips and stroking your clit. He rubbed furiously, flicking your clit, and you made incoherent sounds. Sputtered through moans, groans, and “oh my god, yes, please, nut in me, nut in meeeee, oueee.”

Terry growled in your ear and that sent you over. The raw need in his throat. You twitched and jerked, moaning, promising him however many babies he wanted. His chuckle was cut off by a groan as he stroked a few more times before cumming. 

He rammed one last time and kept you plugged up while he came and came. Thick, hot ropes of cum painted your inner walls and your brain turned to mush as he did so. His dick throbbed. Your pussy ached. A deep hole was filled by him. By this beautiful, messy, fucked up, toxic man you called the love of your life. 

“Fuuuck,” you twitched on his throbbing dick. He groaned as he huffed and recovered from his orgasm, pulling out to watch himself leak out. He spread your ass cheeks, gave it a smack, and then reentered you.

“Ouee, shit,” you moaned, thighs tingling. 

Terry chuckled and bottomed out, keeping himself there. “I think we just made a son, baby,” he said and pulled you into a kiss. Your neck ached in this position but fuck it. You wanted his sloppy, wet kisses. 

He kissed you sweetly as he moved his hand from your pussy to your stomach, massaging it. You giggled and tapped at his shoulder. “Really mu’fucker?” You asked. 

He chuckled and pecked you on the lips. “Just increasing our chances. Get this sexy, beautiful body in the shower. You gotta start taking care of the both of you,” he said. 

You laughed and pushed at his shoulder with yours. “You get on my nerves!” You said, disentangling his hand from your hair.

Terry moved, pushing his cum deeper inside with shallow strokes. You hissed and moaned, loving the feeling of him. “I’m gonna take Cadence out to the park. And then we’re gonna have dinner tonight and explain that Daddy’s moving back in,” he said. 

You sighed heavily and rolled your eyes. But you didn’t argue. “Yes, Daddy,” you moaned.

Terry pulled out and helped clean you up, taking the soaked towel off of the bed and throwing it in the laundry room. He fixed his outfit and you watched from the bed, sorry he hadn’t gotten naked as well.

“Don’t worry. I’ll be back tonight fucking that attitude out of you,” he said.

You gasped and he chuckled, running out of the house before you could call him everything but a child of God. 

The end.

You know I can't keep this man off the brain! The Secret Terry Richmond Files

Taglist: YALL. Have overwhelmed with this tag list, thank you!

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

@browngirldominion @iv0rysoap @thecookiebratz @harmshake @00aijia00

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

@avoidthings @lovedlover @blackgurlnhermoods @flydotty @sageispunk

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

@slutsareteacherstoo @blackerthings @dreamsinfocuss @brattyfics @mermaidchansons

@monaeesstuff @henneseyhoe @blowmymbackout @charismablu @playgurlxoxo

@misskiki90 @miyuhpapayuh @satoruya @starcrossedxwriter @yamst3rdamctrl

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

@thegreatlibraryofalex @amyhennessyhouse @hihellogoodbyebruh @becauseimswagman1

[earthchica]

Funny How Time Flies | 3

terry richmond x black, fem!/plus size reader

summary: terry reconsiders and confesses he wants something more out of this with you. While visiting Chichén Itzá, you and terry get to know each other better.

warnings: fluff, playfully teasing, acquaintances to friends to lovers, bubble bath, light angst, nightmare, mention of PTSD, mention of death, explicit smut (18+), oral (m & f), fingering, daddy kink, praise kink, dom/sub, choking kink, unprotected sex, dirty talking, nicknames (mama, cumslut, nasty & sweet girl, sweetheart, baby, baby girl), words: (4k)

note: hi, part 3 is here, it felt so good to write this. please enjoy! Let me know your thoughts and if you want to be tagged in future parts.

series masterlist

-

You and your friends arrived early in the morning in Valladolid, Yucatán, Mexico. With only two days to explore, your plans included visiting the ancient ruins of Chichén Itza.

After that, probably explore a few gift shops and eateries before returning to Cancun. While checking in, the villa only had three bedrooms, which meant you had to share a room with Terry.

You've been trying to hide your feelings for him, but it's getting hard. Every time you look at him, your heart races. The way he carries himself and his charming smile only add to the struggle.

You find yourself lost in thoughts about him, and despite your efforts to push those feelings away, they keep bubbling to the surface. It’s becoming impossible to ignore how much you want him to blow your back again.

As you watched him roll your suitcases alongside his own into the shared room, you couldn't help but appreciate the way his fitted shirt highlighted the definition of the muscles in his back.

His arms showcased the strength beneath the fabric, while the veins in his wrist caught your eye. It was a captivating sight that caused you to feel an undeniable turned on.

Terry leaned the suitcases against the sofa and turned to face you. You held back from throwing yourself at him as his expression appeared tired.

"So...we have to be up by 7, and you know Maya will kill us if we're not on time. So you don’t mind if I take a bath first," You asked, heading to your suitcases to grab some pajamas and toiletries.

"Hold on! You don’t wanna take a bath together?" Terry teased gently, prompting you to turn around with a shy smile.

"I would love to, but do you think you can behave yourself, Terry?" you asked, teasing your tone with a playful expression.

“Oh, I can behave, baby girl. I should be asking you that because I saw the look in your eyes early when you think I didn't notice,” Terry said, coming over and placing his hands on your hips. You laughed softly, looking away.

"Alright, alright. How about we promise to bathe and not start nothing?” you suggested with a smirk, trying to maintain an air of seriousness despite the laughter bubbling inside you.

"Okay, deal," Terry said, his voice deep and full of warmth. You both head to the bathroom; your clothes drop on the floor, and you put on your shower cap.

Terry prepares a bubble bath, and eventually, both of you get in. The warm water envelops you as the bubbles form a playful froth around you.

The bathroom was softly lit, casting a gentle glow that added to the moment's intimacy. You leaned back against Terry, feeling the soothing heat of the water relaxing every part of you.

"This is nice!" Terry whispered, wrapping his arms around you, holding you close as the scents of lavender filled the air. It was peaceful and perfect.

"Yeah, it is," You said, tilting your head to look at him, and he kissed you before things got heated. You and Terry kept your deal, exchanging lighthearted banter while helping each other get clean.

Afterward, you both stepped out of the bathtub, dried off, and dressed in nightclothes. You followed your night routine, all while the excitement of tomorrow lingered in your thoughts.

As you settled under the covers, you were respectfully sleeping on your sides of the bed. A few hours goes, and your eyes gently open when you hear Terry murmur in his sleep.

Sitting up slightly, you notice his distressed and sweaty face, indicating he might be trapped in a nightmare. Unsure of how to help, you carefully rise and give him a gentle nudge to wake him up.

"Terry, hey," you whispered softly, brushing the sweat away from his forehead. His eyes flutter open, and he looks momentarily disoriented before meeting your gaze.

"Shit," he mumbles, rubbing his eyes as he tries to shake off the remnants of the bad dream.

"Are you okay?" you inquired, your voice filled with concern as you gently stroked his arm. Terry hesitated, sitting up and averting his gaze while clenching his jaw.

"I-" He started, turning back to you, tears streaming down his face as his lips began to tremble. Your eyes widened, opening your arms and pulling him towards you.

“Shh, it’s okay,” you reassure him, holding him close. He buries his face in your chest, and you can feel the tension in his body slowly begin to ease.

"I'm here," you continue softly, "and you're safe." Terry inhales deeply, momentarily tightening his hold on you before easing his grip.

You embrace him in silence, allowing him to gather before you inquire. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

He lifts his face to look you into your eyes, hesitating, but you give him a reassuring expression.

"It's okay," you said with such sweetness and softness. Terry felt he could be open and vulnerable with you. "Yeah!" Terry said, and you nodded, sensing that he trusted you enough to share.

"Um...months before coming on this trip...I lost my cousin, Mike....." Terry shared, explaining how he had intended to help bail his cousin out of jail and support him in starting a new life, but things took an unexpected turn.

He tells the painful story of losing his cousin and how he defended corrupt police in a town known as Shelby Springs.

Although the case eventually went to court, and he received some significant compensation, it did little to mend the heartache of his cousin's loss.

Terry admitted that he was still dealing with his grief and felt a lingering sense of guilt. “I just sometimes think…I could’ve done much more, and Mike would still be here.”

“Oh Terry, It’s not your fault. You tried your best and brought justice to your cousin's name. I’m sure Mike doesn’t blame you, even with him gone and he still with you in your heart.” You said, comforting him.

Terry nodded, appreciating your comforting words as he took a deep breath; the weight of his emotions seemed to ease slightly, and he looked at you with gratitude.

"Thank you. Hearing that really helps. Sometimes, the guilt can be overwhelming, making it difficult to look beyond it."

You softly held his hand, providing quiet reassurance. "It's natural to feel this way sometimes, but I believe Mike would have wanted you to keep pushing forward and overcome."

Terry gave a small, appreciative smile. “I appreciate you, Thanks for listening. It means a lot”

You smiled back, touched by his words. "Of course, I'll be here, Terry whenever you need me,"

Both of you staring into each other's eyes deeply. "Wanna try to get some sleep again?" you asked, breaking the trance and placing your hand on his cheek.

“Yeah...um, can we cuddle?” He asked shyly which made your heart flutter.

"Of course," You replied warmly, shifting closer to him. Terry wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a comforting embrace. The warmth of his body against yours and the gentle rhythm of his breathing was soothing, slowly lulling you back to a state of sleep.

Terry was still awake, and a lot of thoughts were going through his mind. He looked down at you, watching you sleep in his arms. The moment he realized he wanted more with you, it was how easily you comfort him without thinking and let him be vulnerable.

You embodied everything he desired: sweet, caring, alluring, intelligent, beautiful, and empathetic—the list is endless. You stirred feelings in him that he never believed possible; you captivated him deeply.

From the moment you met, he felt a connection with you; this experience only solidified that bond. Terry was determined not to waste another moment of this trip before expressing his feelings.

-

As you wake up, you notice Terry's side of the bed is empty. Letting out a sigh, you get out of bed to brush your teeth, remove your bonnet, and wash your face.

Suddenly, you hear Terry call your name, and you eagerly rush back into the bedroom. He stood by the door, shirtless with just shorts on and a tray of food in his hand.

“I gotta breakfasts. Maya said we have about an hour and a half before we leave for Chichén Itzá. So let’s eat,” Terry said with a warm smile as he set the tray down on the small table by the window.

The morning light filtered through the curtains, glowing gently around the room. You couldn't help but smile back, touched by his thoughtfulness.

The tray was filled with an assortment of delicious options: fresh fruit, scrambled eggs, bacon, and two glasses of orange juice. The aroma filled the air, so it smelled good.

Terry pulled out a chair for you, and you sat down, feeling appreciation. "This looks amazing, Terry. Thank you," you said, meeting his eyes with a smile.

"You deserve it. Thank you for comforting me; I needed it," he replied, sitting across from you.

"There's no need to thank me, honey. I would gladly be there for you if you need me," You said honestly, and Terry couldn't help but feel his feelings deepen for you.

"How are you this morning?" You asked, salting and peppering your eggs before taking a bite.

"A lot better; I haven't slept that good in a minute, thanks to you," Terry said, and you smiled shyly.

You both enjoyed the breakfast; the conversation flowed effortlessly, filled with laughter, and you shared excitement about today's adventure to Chichén Itzá.

Terry paused, watching you animatedly describe what you looked forward to seeing. You paused from talking and just stared at Terry, who noticed you stopped talking.

“What?” He asked with a smile.

"This is just nice; I could get used to this," You admitted.

Terry chuckled softly, "I was hoping you would say that," he responded.

"Cause me too, I want more moments like this with you," Terry said as your eyes met his. His sincerity in gaze made your heart flutter.

"Really?" you inquired, not fully comprehending his words as they resonated with your own unspoken hopes. "You're just playing with me," you added shyly.

“I'm not, baby girl, I’m dead serious,” Terry said in his low, deep voice, moving his chair to wrap his arms around you. There was a hint of fear in his expression that you might not believe him.

“What about not wanting anything serious?” You asked shyly, looking away for a second before looking back. Terry paused, his eyes reflecting honesty and determination.

"At first, I did but spending even a short time with you has opened my eyes to what I've been missing. Initially, I believed it was fun and lust, but now I understand that it’s something deeper, and I don’t want to let it slip away," he spoke gently.

His words ignited a warmth in your chest, their sincerity resonating profoundly within you. "I like you a lot, baby, I care about you, and when I'm with you, everything feels right," he said, his eyes locked on yours.

"I want to explore where this could lead if you're open to giving it a chance. We can take it slow" His honesty was palpable, igniting a spark of hope within you.

The thought of delving into something serious with Terry filled you with excitement and relief. You took a deep breath, pondering the possibilities ahead.

"I like you a lot too, Terry. Like I said before, I'm here for you, and I want to give this a try," you replied gently. You lowered your eyes shyly, feeling a sense of happiness you hadn't felt in a long time.

Terry leaned to kiss you passionately as if everything in the universe had aligned perfectly for this moment. With the breakfast plates nearly empty.

Terry leaned back in his chair, stretching before suggesting, "Alright, we should probably start getting ready soon. I wouldn't want to upset Maya by being late."

You laughed, nodding in agreement. "True, she might not forgive us if we miss the damn van." as you cleared the table, the excitement for the day ahead felt so good.

-

You and Terry are dressed in casual clothes. Hand in hand, you make your way to the villa's living room, spotting Maya, Sasha, Bryce, and Cam there.

Maya started with a joyful smile. "Well, looky...looky! What's happening here?"

“Right, this is new. Are y’all like togather now?” Sasha asked with hope in her eyes.

“Yeah, something like that,” Terry said with a chuckle. “Word?” Bryce asked with a grin and playfully nudged him on the shoulder.

"We haven't defined what we are yet, but we're definitely something more than we were before," You explained, looking up at Terry with sweet eyes.

"Yeah, just taking it slow," Terry exclaimed, glancing down at you and giving your hand a firm squeeze as if he were channeling all his energy toward you.

Sasha clapped her hands, and her eyes lit up like she had just seen a fireworks show. "Y'all are so cute. I'm so happy for you two!"

"Yeah, both of you look good together," Cam said, grinning like he knew what was up. You felt warm and fuzzy inside, with your friends hyping you and Terry.

“Ok, now,” Maya called, looking at everyone with a smile. "Who’s excited we’re going to Chichén Itzá?"

Cam rubbed his hands together like a birdman. "I've been wanting to see that place. It's gonna be dope!"

Sasha spoke, her enthusiasm infectious. "Yeah, and we gotta take a bunch of photos! I need some new material for my travel blog."

Bryce chuckled, throwing an arm around Sasha's shoulder. "For real, and I can't wait to see you try to climb one of those pyramids for the perfect shot without tripping."

As laughter filled the room, Terry gently squeezed your hand, his eyes meeting yours with a shared understanding that this trip would be memorable in more ways than one.

"Alright, let's get moving then," You said, feeling the buzz of excitement. With that, everyone gathered their things, and the group started their adventure.

The drive to Chichén Itzá was filled with excited and lively chatter. Once you arrive, go inside with your paid tickets and walk through the souvenir stands path.

The first thing you approach is El Castillo; it takes your breath away. "Look at that!" Maya exclaimed, pointing towards the imposing pyramid that dominated the site.

"This is incredible!" Terry said, standing by your side, his hand brushing against yours as you both took the sight.

"It's amazing," Cam murmured, a sense of wonder in his voice. "I can't believe we're actually here."

Sasha was already snapping photos, capturing every angle and detail to share on her blog.

"This place is a photographer's dream," She said, her eyes wide with excitement.

The group wandered through the ruins, exploring the Temple of the Warriors and the Great Ball Court. Each site added layers to the stories you imagined about the Mayan civilization.

As the sun climbed higher in the sky, you all took a break under the shade of a large tree, sipping some cold water. Terry leaned closer to you, his voice low so only you could hear.

"I'm really glad I got to see these with you," he said, his sincerity shining. You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through you.

"Me too," you replied, the truth of your words resonating between you. As the sun shines bright on both of you, stroll away to talk; the conversation flows as easily as ever.

You knew a few things about Terry he mentioned before, but you wanted more depth and detail to get to know him better. You looked over at him and asked about his childhood.

He shifted his gaze and began to speak about his childhood. “I was born and raised in New Orleans; I was cool with everyone in school, made good grades, and played a few sports until college."

He took a breath, continued. "I have great parents and a great family, so family gatherings and spending time with them means a lot to me! What about you?”

“Wow, I feel you on that. Family is everything, " you began before continuing. "Um…I was born in New York but moved to Lafayette, Louisiana, with my parents when I was 5,” you shared, your voice brightening.

“I was pretty shy and introverted, as I still am today. I mostly kept to myself, lost in the books and making good grades, and the only friends I made were Sasha and Maya." You let out a sigh, tilting your head to the sky.

"I'm an only child, so my parents were really supportive about anything I wanted to do. I became an archivist and have always loved digging into the past.” You added.

"Wow, that totally makes sense; you were a good girl all your life, huh?" Terry asked playfully.

You laughed at his playful teasing, giving a slight nod. "I suppose that's true. I always strive to stay on the right path, but that doesn't mean I haven't enjoyed my fair share of wild and fun moments when I felt like it," you responded with a wink.

Terry raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Well...you got to tell me at least one"

"Alright...well, there was this one time in college," you began, leaning back in your chair as you recalled the memory.

"Where Sasha and Maya practically beg me to go to Miami for the weekend. I decided to go, and It was supposed to be a relaxing getaway, but things got a little...out of hand."

Terry leaned in closer, clearly intrigued. "Go on," he urged.

"We ended up at this beach party, and let's just say there was a little too much tequila involved," you admitted with a laugh.

"I think we found ourselves on stage during a karaoke competition singing New Edition. I don't remember much, but I do know we won and then I think I threw up on stage. It was wild" You said, shook your head, thinking about all the craziness.

Terry burst into laughter, shaking his head in amusement. "Oh man, I really wish I could have witnessed that! You know, when I first met you, I could sense there was a vibrant, outgoing side to you mixed with that shy, sweet, good girl in you."

You shrugged. "Sometimes being shy and introverted can suck; I've shelled myself on a lot of things and lost opportunities because of it."

Terry placed his hand on your arm and gave you a reassuring squeeze. "I understand, but you're doing well, like on this trip. Look where it brought you."

You smiled at his words, appreciating his understanding. "Yeah, you're right. It’s been so amazing and freeing especially because I met you. You've played a part in me opening my shell"

Terry's expression softened. "I did a little; you did the rest, and watching you blossom and feeling a deep connection with someone as beautiful, intelligent, and sweet as you has been wonderful"

You felt a warmth spread through you at his words. "Same here, Terry" you admitted lightly.

"I never imagined I would meet such a wonderful, kind, respectful, and handsome man like you but I'm glad I did," you remarked, Terry's smile radiating warmth and sincerity.

He gently lifted your hand and kissed it, his eyes shining with genuine affection. "Well, I guess we both got lucky on this trip," he replied, his voice soft and full of warmth.

You both sat there momentarily, enjoying the comfortable silence and the connection that hung like a gentle melody. The world outside seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you wrapped in a little moment like this.

Illuminated the potential of what you could build together. With that, the two of you got up and walked hand in hand. You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through your chest as you met back up with the group and soon left Chichén Itzá.

The ride back to the villa was filled with comfortable chatter here and there. The sun was beginning to set, casting a golden glow over the landscape, and you found yourself lost in thought rest of the trip and about the possibilities ahead with Terry.

-

Once back at the villa, everyone decided to unwind and relax after the fun but tiring day by the pool, with music, tacos, and beans—a delightful way to wind down.

Bryce and Sasha splashed around in the pool, Maya and Cam deeply conversed, and you were mainly on Terry, who leaned closer with his arm wrapped around your shoulder.

“You know,” Terry said with a smirk, “if you keep looking at me like that, I might just have to take you upstairs right now.”

His voice was teasing, but there was an undeniable spark in his eyes. You raised an eyebrow playfully. “Oh really?”

Terry leaned in more, his breath warm against your ear. “Yeah, I know when my sweet girl needs me.” You could feel your heart racing, your panties getting wet, and excitement coursing through you.

“You're right, Daddy. Let’s go," you whispered, getting up and saying good night to the others. You grabbed Terry's hand and dragged him away, which made him laugh.

Once the door of your shared bedroom closed, Terry pulled you in for a kiss, urgency lacing his every movement. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders.

The sexual tension manifests from the heat between you. The two of you had spent all day teasing each other with stolen glances and lingering touches while at Chichén Itzá.

The kiss shared was electric, a spark igniting between you. This kiss differed from others; it was tender yet filled with an undeniable passion and softness.

You lose yourself in the way his tongue dances along yours, and your hands reach the other's bodies and take each piece of clothing off between every loving kiss.

You pulled away, taking a breath as Terry cupped your breasts in his soft, big hands. You think he has an obsession with your breasts every time he gets sight of them.

"Mmm, you are so fucking sexy, you know that. I love your body so much, especially these big tits," He said, looking down at you slightly; hesitation was in his eyes before he went for it.

Terry started motorboating you, causing you to gasp and slightly giggle, confirming your theory. You bit your lip and grabbed the back of his head, smacking with your tits in his face.

"Yes, I like that. Keep smacking me with those beauties," Terry growled as you continued for a little bit until he cupped your breasts and sucked the nipples.

"Ahh, Daddy, please. I-I need that dick; I wanna suck it again," You moaned, sliding your hand down to grip the tip of his dick in your hand and stroking him, playing with his pre-cum.

Terry moaned, leaning his forehead against yours, breath slightly hitched. "Fuck, yes, I couldn't get that talented little mouth of yours out of my mind."

"Mmm, yeah Terry. You love my mouth, don't you? I rocked your world; I had you cumming all over, wouldn't you like that again" You moaned, stroking him faster, causing him to moan more.

"Fuck, lay on your stomach and moved to the edge of the bed" Terry ordered, removing your hand from his dick and moving you towards the bed.

You lay on your stomach, looking up at Terry lustfully as he comes with his big, hard throbbing dick in your sight, making your mouth water.

"It's not gonna suck itself, mama. Get to work," Terry said, shoving his dick in your mouth, causing you to moan; you popped him for a second before going back in.

You look at him, bobbing your head up and down his length, loving his expressions. "Ohhhh....yes, just like that, baby fuck...that ass of yours looks incredible from this angle."

You moaned muffledly, feeling Terry grip your ass cheeks before sliding his fingers through your wet folds. You continued to suck him, moving your head up and down as he began to finger you.

"Ahh, Terry." You pulled out to say with a moan before going back to sucking him out. You try your best to focus on giving him pleasure but with his fingers thrusting fast in your pussy was.....

"Mmmm, baby, you just know how to make me feel so good with that pretty mouth of yours; let me bury my dick in your mouth," Terry says, grabbing your head with both of his heads and starting fucking your mouth.

You look up at him, feeling your eyes water slightly as the tip of his dick hits the back of your throat in an incredibly harsh way. "Take that dick so well, fuck baby, keep looking at me like that, make me fucking cum"

He pops himself out of your mouth, slapping his dick on your tongue before letting you going back to suck and began stroking at the same time while still looking at him.

"Mmm, daddy...I want you to cum....I need you to cum in my mouth, I want to tasted all on my tongue please"

"Shit, mama. You want that cum, huh? My cumslut, keep sucking the dick for the nut, sweet girl," Terry moaned, grabbing your braids.

You moaned, stroking and sucking him, going faster than before. "Just like that, fuck.....shit shit shit. You want that nut, right?"

"Yes, Daddy, yes, I want it all, cum for me, cum on this mouth for your good girl," You moaned, looking up at him while holding his legs for support.

Terry thrusted his length deep in your mouth, gripping the back of your neck, feeling himself getting close to the edge, and seeing you take it all like a champion with no gag made him bust.

"fuck,fuck,fuck!!!!" He moaned as his eyes rolling the back out of head as he burst his full hot load into your throat, it was so much that you popped him out of your mouth.

All of his cum came dropping out of your mouth and got on your lips, chin, and the bed, causing you to smile at the sight. You gazed up at Terry with a smile.

"My nasty girl," Terry moaned, wiping the cum off your chin, and you sucked off his fingers. He was trying to steady his feet, slightly shaken from mind-blowing release.

He almost fell, and you had to catch and help him lay down on his back. You kissed his cheek, his neck, and then his sweaty chest.

"Honey, you okay?" You asked, clearing your throat and wiping your face with some tissue by the bed before placing your hand on his rising chest.

Terry was quiet, panting heavily while calming down from the high. “Yeah fuck....I think I’m falling for you. You are the only woman who has made me cum like that.”

His voice was playful but was also serious. His words hung in the air, a gentle echo that resonated in your heart.

“I…I think I’m falling for you too, Terry," you said with a smile. He smiled, going for a kiss and flipping you on your back to spread your legs wide.

Terry slightly rises, lifting your leg and kissing the ankle down to your thigh, loving the feel of his plump, sweet, and soft lips on your skin, slightly tingling in a way.

"Please, more, Daddy." You begged.

"Mmmm...you have such a perfect pretty pussy…I love it so much; it was made just for me, taste it and bury my dick in it," Terry said before plunging his tongue between your wet folds.

His lips capture your clit, and he sucks it into his mouth, alternating between flicks with the tip of his tongue and light nibbles with his teeth.

You placed your hand on the back of his head as he went harder than before. "Oh, yes, Terry, yes...shit I love your tongue, make me feel so good"

Terry pulls away for a second, rubbing your clit. "I know, baby, you deserve to feel good. Fuck, baby, you know I love hearing talk dirty keep it coming, beautiful."

"Ahh fuck, eat my pussy, fucking eat my pussy" You cried, gazing down at him for a second before back at the ceiling; he grabbed your hands and held you down as he sucked the soul of you.

"You look so beautiful, baby; you're about to cum, right? You're gonna cum for me?" Terry asked, rubbing at your clit.

"Ahh yes, i'm gonna cum yes, I'm gonna cum-!" You whimpered, feeling your legs shake and tense up close to the edge.

"Cum for me, cum for me, mama," Terry said, and your orgasm hit you hard, causing you to let out a scream of pleasure.

As you came down, Terry kissed up your body until he got to your lips and pressed a passionate kiss on you, tasting yourself.

"Daddy, I need you now, please I need that dick inside me again," You cried, stroking his still hard, throbbing dick.

"I'll give you what you need, baby, don't worry," Terry said, sliding you down to the edge of the other side of the bed, slightly spreading your plump legs wide before hovering over you,

His warm hand cradled your face, his eyes filled with love and tenderness. He began stroking his length before moving to slide his dick up and down your wet folds.

"Ahhhhhh!!!" You opened your mouth in an O as you looked at him, feeling the tip of his dick teasing your wet entrance. Terry gently thrusts his dick fully into your pussy.

A wave of deep pleasure washed over you, causing a moan to escape your lips. He continued to thrust slowly and gently.

His presence was both sensual and promising in this loving moment. You tugged Terry toward you for a kiss and pulled away, resting your forehead against him.

"Mmm, Terry ah...right there..." You moaned, placing your hand on the low of his back and pulling him for another kiss.

The warmth of his body against yours heightened the intimacy. The incredible feeling in every sense of his dick deep inside of you that you were squeezing him so tightly.

You titled your head to look at Terry from your neck and his eyes were slightly closed for a second. "You feel that baby, feel how deep I am in that pussy?"

Terry moaned, and you bit your lip with a nod before answering. "Yes, I feel it. It's so deep, Daddy." You said as he slightly moved his body up, and you placed a hand on his chest.

You looked down, focusing on the way his dick moved in and out of you, noticing the steady rise and fall of his breath.

"Faster," You begged as he said, "You wanna go faster?"

"Yes, Daddy, please." You answered, and he changed the missionary to the side, gripping your ass cheek before going a little faster in his thrusts.

"Yes, yes, yes!" You cried, running your hand up and down his firm, toned arm as he kissed your neck, thrusting his dick deep inside of you.

He spread your ass cheeks a little bit wider to go deeper, and with each thrust getting more substantial, the whole bed started making a squeaking sound.

"Fuck, this pussy was just made for me; this is all mine, baby girl? this pussy's is mine" He asked, whispering in your ear while biting and kissing at your neck.

"Ahh fuck yes Terry, all yours." You moaned, couldn't hold back your loud moans, and shouted out his name every time he hit your sweet spot.

"You like that, huh? Tell me how much you like it when I fuck you?" Terry asked, wrapping his hand on your neck softly.

"Ahh, oh....fuck...I love it more than, like, Daddy. I love how you fill me up every time," You moaned, feeling closer to the edge.

Terry pulls out and thrusts back with force; he does this a few times, just loving how his dick leaves and enters your pussy, creamy affected.

"Oh my god, I'm gonna cum" You cried out, digging your nails into his arm, slapping skin filled the room loud as he thrusts faster then before, loosen his grip on your neck.

Terry slaps your ass while gripping it, matching the rhythm of this pounding thrusts as he said "Cum on your dick, it's all yours baby, squeezing me for that cum, fuck"

Once the words left his lips, you came hard all over his dick moaning his name, and he wasn't that far behind as you felt his hot cum spurting inside of you.

"So....fucking....good!" Terry pulled out of you and watching his cum drop out of your pussy. You smiled happily, calming down from the high.

Terry went and got a washcloth to clean you up. Once he finished, he moved you up to the pillows, laid beside you and enveloped you in his arms.

"You're completely mine, just as I am entirely yours!" he declared, and as you looked up into his eyes, you responded with a gentle kiss on his lips.

“Yes...we belong to each other," you whispered softly, feeling the warmth of his embrace. The room was filled with a serene silence, broken only by the rhythmic beating of your hearts.

Outside, the moonlight spilled in through the window, giving everything a magical glow. You snuggled in tighter, feeling his chest rise and fall, knowing this was your spot.

[henneseyhoe]

Right Where I Want You.

Terry Richmond x BLACK!FEM!Reader

WARNINGS: Rough sex (Nothing too serious, she just chokes him a lil), Dirty talk, DOM!reader, SUB!Terry, Mommy kink (yeah you heard me, we get real nasty over here..), PWP, Short!, Not completely proof read.

SUMMARY: nah. lol

✮✮✮✮

the sound of clapping could be heard from the next room over even with the door closed. They both made no moves to quiet down either, the squeaky springs of the bed only applauded her on her bouncing, giving her the praises she needed for taking a dick this size. The stretch was delicious, the girth making her feel stuffed, and the length reaching places so deep that she could barely sit down all the way.

But how she rode was already enough for Terry, she didn’t have to sit all the way. He was already so gone. The way Terry was moaning her name with curses following, you’d think that was the only english he knew.

Her heels dug into the bed beneath them, the sensation of the soft silks against his bare skin heightening his pleasure. He had begged her just minutes before to use him, fuck him into his own bed and leave him wondering why you hadn’t come along sooner, why he didn’t come find you instead. He didn’t care if it was pathetic, there was some things he could live with happily without embarrassment. There was just something about you that could make a man kneel at your feet, cry, even.

“Enjoying yourself?”

She asks before moaning, her head lulling back for a second as she felt the tip of him brush over exactly where she wanted him the most. Her voice was so tantalizing, laced with a sweetheart tone and dominance as she knew she could take away what he needed the most in this moment; a tight pussy gripping his dick and a nut that would send him to another dimension. She knew damn well he was doing more than enjoying himself.

His abs tightened under his brown skin and he cried out, opting to hold onto the headboard instead of her hips to avoid her stopping like she did last time he touched her without permission.

“Fuck, baby!”

His hips bucked wildly as the sensitivity of him became almost unbearable. He hadn’t even came yet, multiple orgasms purposely ruined being the reason for the constant tightness in his balls and stomach. She, on the other hand, had already came three times. On his fingers, on his face, on that dick. Her cream stuck to his shaft and balls, making wet, sticky sounds every time her fat ass bounced back down on him, making him release another spurt of precum into her walls.

Her cream was still warm, used as lube to help her ride that thick dick efficiently enough to have him seeing stars.

And stars he did indeed see, the glasses perched on his nose providing no help with vision as he clenched his eyes closed.

“You boutta cum for me, baby? You know better to ask mommy first”

She runs her pierced tongue over her lips and begins rubbing her poor little clit with her dominant hand, ignoring the indescribable pain from sensitivity that also somehow brought her pleasure. She used her other hand to slowly wrap itself around Terry’s throat, squeezing slightly to bring him out his euphoric daze.

Once he had opened his eyes, he got to admire her again, eyes flickering from her pretty face to the urging hand between her thighs.

She went even harder on him, staring into his piercing eyes with a clear desire to break him just in case any other bitch thought she could do what she does to him. No one else could have him, a grown man, begging to be fucked, on his knees with his face in her lap.

“You like when I fuck you like this. You like when I use you” She guides him into a nod, a satisfied smile on her face as he agrees.

“Yes- fuck!”

“Mhmm. You love this pussy don’t you?”

“Yes, yes, yes! I love this pussy, mommy”

His words sent her into overdrive. That was the first time he had ever compiled and called her the self given pet name. She knew he was right where she wanted him now. There was nothing he wouldn’t say or do for her.

“Cum inside me, baby. Fill mommy up”

✮✮✮✮

💌- ngl this was just sumn sweet for the fuckin kids till december 🥴 did NOT mean for it to be like dis!

[blueberryismilk18]

Heyyy, I just found your writing and I love it so much 😭

I just wanted to ask for bistro huddy (idk if I spelled it right 😭) headcanons with a s/o that has anger issues. Like whenever they serve a rude costumer they can hardly contain themselves from smacking them with the turkey sandwich they ordered 😭😭. You could do whatever characters you like. You don’t have to take my request if you don’t want to btw. I don’t wanna force anything. Anyways, I hope you have a great day/night! Bye bye!!! ☺️

Heyy, I really enjoyed this one:3 sorry I’ve been gone for a while I had a very bad writing burn out. I’m gonna try and get as many done today as I can so expect more later! Hope you enjoy (none of my head canons are ever proof read so if there is a spelling mistake lmk)

Ruby, Terry, Joey, and Pickles with a S/O with anger issues

ℜ𝔲𝔟𝔶 (fem reader)

💋 She definitely has anger issues too but she can keep it under wraps.

💋 Will shit talk about the Customer(s) bothering you

💋She would probably go into the freezer with you to scream about the entire kitchen staff while you scream about the customers

💋 If you ever actually flip out at a customer she would lowkey be proud, or like in awe. I don’t think she’d encourage it but also she kinda would…

💋 “I didn’t think you had that in you, kind of stupid though. I mean It was kinda hot.”

💋 There’s a reason the chefs aren’t servers…

𝕋𝕖𝕣𝕣𝕪 (Masc reader)

👔 Lets you sit in his office(? Does he even have one… I’m assuming yall) to cool off and take a breather

👔 While your there he will tell you about how he understands it’s easy to get frustrated

👔 Trust me, this man understands. He goes through it almost every day.

👔 “I tell ya love, I know. I got Tim always calling my ass for things that, I tell ya, are just plain stupid!”

👔 Lets you talk about it and will probably crack a few jokes with you to help you feel better

👔 You flip out at a customer, you best believe this man it’s taking your side. What are they gonna do, tell the manager?!

ᴊᴏᴇʏ

🍨LOSES HIS TEMPER TOO! 

🍨 NOBODY is gonna treat his prince/princess like that?!

🍨 He flips out at the customer for you.

🍨 Another man who understands how idiotic people can be (despite being kinda dumb himself.)

🍨 “What the fuck are these people doing! If they gotta problem direct them to me sweetheart! Cause they could have a sandwich alright, a fucking knuckle sandwich!”

🍨 if you flip out, he would literally praise you for it, men’s glad you finally stuck up for yourself

𝙿𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚎𝚜

🍭 I don’t think he really understands why your upset when you come to the back 

🍭 Once you explain he would get mad too! 

🍭 How could you let them talk to you like that?! 

🍭 “Let me at him!”

🍭 offers you candy to make you feel better, will give you a few hugs to help you cool off

🍭 Will take you outside to the back for a bit to breathe while he says some (stupid) sweet things to make you laugh

🍭 If it keeps happening with the same person maybe he’ll get riled up enough to confront them, probably will chicken out last second

🍭 If he finds out you flipped out, he hyped you up after, even after getting yelled at by Terry

🍭 “You did so amazing! That’ll teach them!”

[karatekels]

TIGmas Day #8 – What You Do To Me

Today’s request is for @iliketoboopacat, who has requested KK3 Terry doing what only Mr. Silver can: overwhelming Reader with adoration that crosses over into sweet, sweet torture. I hope you enjoy!

Summary: You and Terry have been together for quite awhile now and he is crazy about you. Before he can tell you that he loves you, he decides to test your loyalty by seeing how you respond to another man trying to seduce you at a gala. Once you pass his test with flying colours, he sneaks away with you to confess his love, and shows you just what it’s like to have his full devotion…

TW: Deception; unhealthy relationships; dirty talk; edging; overstimulation; degradation kink; crying kink; praise kink; fingering (vaginal); graphic sex;

---

What You Do To Me

---

Reader’s POV:

The interior of the Ennis House had been transformed into a thing of pure fantasy, and you had been decorated along with it. DynaTox’s annual Christmas party was being hosted at its CEO’s home for the first time, an uncharacteristically vulnerable choice that let the employees and their guests have a glimpse into the life of the man himself. One would almost think that as they stepped over the threshold into the house that they had been transported from California to the mountains of Colorado, fake snow mounded around the bases of real pines. An honest-to-goodness ice rink had been constructed in the Grand Ballroom, the waitstaff skating amongst the guests with trays of champagne and hors d’oeuvres in hand.

Despite all of this revelry, there’s only one thing on your mind.

Where’s Terry?

This is the first elite party you’ve attended where you are also playing the hostess. You had anticipated that Terry, who normally kept you glued to his side constantly, would be even more insistent to have you with him – the two of you had been together for long enough now to be considered serious, and he had made clear his intentions to get you used to being in his circles.

But now, when you needed him around, he was nowhere to be found. You ordinarily felt a bit at sea when you weren’t by his side, especially at lavish events like these, but now that you were in a way responsible for the event you feel like you’re outright drowning. Servers, caterers, and security had all come to you for directions, and you have been doing your best to guide them, hoping that everything would go off without a hitch. So far, it had.

“Excuse me, Y/N L/N?” comes a voice from behind you, and you turn, bracing yourself to put out yet another fire.

Instead you find Michael Nelson, the star quarterback from your high school days. He seems to have grown nicely into adulthood and success, judging by the way his expensive suit fits his strong build. Was this some sort of a weird dream?

Michael had been the first man you had fallen for – but then, all the girls had fallen for him back in the day. But you had been friends and neighbours growing up, you knew each other.

You’d thought you’d had a chance with him, but the opportunity never came.

It had taken you quite awhile to get over your infatuation, and looking at him now you still have those childish butterflies in your belly. The man was the epitome of the one who got away, after all.

“Michael Nelson!?” you say his name with incredulity. What was he doing here, anyway? He didn’t work for DynaTox, not that you knew of anyway.

“You remember me!” he exclaims, giving you a warm smile that would’ve made you melt back in school. Instead, it has you worrying about Terry taking this moment to appear – he doesn’t appreciate other men chatting you up.

“Of course I do, Michael,” you reply distractedly, scanning the ballroom for Terry. “How have you been?” Your brain doesn’t even register his response, letting him talk to himself as you try to find a way out of the conversation.

“Y/N?” he asks, trying to reclaim your attention. Your eyes reluctantly slide back over to his; you don’t want to be rude to him, after all.

“I’m sorry, what did you say?” you ask, giving him an apologetic smile.

“I said that I’m glad I ran into you; it’s been awhile. And you look wonderful tonight.”

His eyes roam across your expensive, form-fitting velvet dress, and you’re grateful that you elected to wear this one with the turtleneck rather than a lower cut neckline as his eyes linger on your chest.

“Thank you, Michael. So do you.” You return the compliment with a complete lack of enthusiasm, and he pretends not to recognize it, sensing that you’re going to try to leave the conversation.

“Can I get you a drink?” He cuts in eagerly, head inclined down towards yours as though he was trying to hypnotize you into accepting. “I would love to catch up and hear about what you’ve been up to since we last saw each other.”

“I’m sorry, I actually need to go tend to a few things. I’m one of the people in charge of this circus! It was… nice running into you.”

You turn and walk away from him without another word, your eyes now scanning the party not just for Terry but for anyone you recognized who would be able to keep Michael at bay. Miraculously your eyes land on Margaret, and you make a beeline for the older woman trying not to look too desperate.

“Is everything alright, Miss L/N?” she asks as you approach, taking in your panicked expression.

“Have you seen Terry? I can’t find him anywhere!” You’re doing your best to appear at least somewhat poised, not wanting to look too pathetic – you couldn’t expect Terry to solve all of your problems for you, after all. He already did so much…

“Mr. Silver had an important matter come up that he needed to attend to. He’ll rejoin the party when he’s finished.”

You bite back the small pout you feel start to twist your lips; you hate being at these sorts of events without him, but to be partly responsible for making sure things ran smoothly in his absence is an entirely different level of overwhelming.

“What are we going to do? The staff keep coming up to me for instructions, and I don’t know what to tell them!” you ask, your brows knitting together. Margaret lifts an eyebrow at you.

“I will handle any issues that arise, Miss L/N. Mr. Silver rarely troubles himself with organizing the events he plays host to. You should enjoy your evening,” she suggests firmly, dismissing you without another word as she turns on her heel and disappears into the crowd. You briefly look around for anyone else you recognize that you could start a conversation with but give up after a moment, needing to just get away from everything now that you know you aren’t needed to help the evening go smoothly.

You make your way out onto one of the small terraces that lined the property of the Ennis House, trying to keep to the shadows as you take a minute to yourself. You know that it’s silly, feeling disappointed – Terry was an incredibly successful and important man, and the party had plenty to offer by way of distraction. But you find that you don’t want to enjoy yourself without him there beside you; you always wanted to share everything with him.

The breeze is lovely, but the relative quiet is what you find really refreshing. You take another deep breath of air, bracing yourself to re-enter the party. Hopefully Terry wouldn’t be too long, and when he returned he could see you having fun and fitting into his world the way that you so desperately want to.

“I never knew you to be the type of woman who liked to play hard to get, Y/N.”

Michael’s voice is harsh and quiet as he joins you out on the dark terrace, sending a shiver down your spine. You whirl around in surprise, not having heard his approach, and notice that he is already trying to herd you into the dark corner of the balcony, keeping himself between you and the door heading inside to prevent your escape.

“I’m not playing anything, Michael,” you snap back at him, offended by the insinuation. You don’t remember him being nearly so egotistical back in school.

“Yeah? I thought you said you had to go help with the party but here you are, sneaking away from everyone like you didn’t know I was watching.”

You suppress a shudder. “I didn’t know you were watching. I hoped you weren’t,” you snap at him defiantly, stepping back until your legs hit the balustrade surrounding the porch. Michael keeps coming towards you, increasing his pace as his confidence grows.

“Don’t act so naïve. You’ve been in love with me for years, and everyone knows it. Let’s finally give us a chance, Y/N,” he purrs as he cages you in against the balcony. Gathering your nerve, you give his chest a firm shove until he takes a few steps back from you.

“I’m not interested, Michael; I’m with someone.”

“And what, they’re worried about a little competition? So worried that they’ve left you all alone tonight?”

“There’s no competition to be had! I’m dating Terry Silver; I’m already his.”

He seems briefly taken aback at the news that the man you’re with is the CEO of the company but quickly recovers, his nose crinkling with distaste.

“You’re his?” he echoes you in disbelief. “You’re talking about your relationship like you’re his property!”

You roll your eyes; clearly he wasn’t very familiar with the man that owned his job. That, or he hadn’t considered that the level of devotion you and Terry had for one another was a two-way street – you know that you’re crazy about one another.

“We belong to each other, Michael, and there’s nothing that you or anyone else can do to change that. Now, if you want to keep your dignity and your job intact, I’d recommend leaving, or at least getting the hell away from me,” you hiss, a fire blazing in your eyes.

“B-But Y/N, I –” Michael starts to stammer, but you’ve had enough.

“Leave. Now. Terry doesn’t take well to those who try to steal from him.”

You’re not entirely sure where this fury is coming from, but the thought of someone trying to come between you and the man you love has you absolutely fuming. And you do love Terry, even if you haven’t told him yet.

You have to go and find him, you realize with a sudden urgency as your heart clenches with need. Paying Michael no mind, you move past him and back into the ballroom, determined to find your love.

Terry’s POV:

Terry could not be more pleased with your performance so far this evening. He’s been stealthily following you all evening, either from hidden alcoves or security cameras, unbeknownst to you and the guests. Hosting the annual Christmas party at the Ennis House enabled him to observe you when left to your own devices. Hell, the whole reason he was having this party was to see how you would behave when pursued by another man, especially one he knew you had once held feelings for.

And why has he chosen to test you in this manner?

Because he has come to the conclusion that he is in love with you. Once he had come to that realization, it was as though a switch had been flipped. He now knew without a shadow of a doubt that you are the one he’s going to spend his life with.

But before he can tell you, he needs to make sure that you are just as infatuated with him in order to commit to you fully.

His plans had been elaborate, and had been going on for months now, at the first inkling of falling for you. First, he had needed to do some research into your history, looking for a suitable candidate to test you with. You weren’t the type of person who would be wooed by a celebrity, even though that would have been much easier to organize for his purposes. No, he’d had to find someone that you’d had a connection with, maybe even feelings for.

Your yearbook had been a great source of insight into your early forays into romance, showing photographs of you with some kid, your schoolgirl crush evident in your innocent eyes. After that, it hadn’t taken him long to investigate, determining the extent of your history with this man and confirming that he would be the perfect bait.

Then, he’d had to set the scene so that you could be alone with Mr. Nelson – with him being able to watch in secret, of course – to see if you would even entertain the idea of leaving him for ‘the one who got away.’ That meant purchasing the small law firm that the man worked at, ensuring his attendance at tonight’s event, a worthy investment in his opinion if it meant cementing you by his side permanently. The two of you had kept your relationship relatively quiet and out of the public eye for now, and he had ensured that the other man was not made aware that you were spoken for.

After that, all he’d had to do was wait for tonight’s main event, disappearing into the labyrinth of passages the Ennis House held within its walls and greedily drinking you in with his eyes. You look particularly ravishing tonight in your slinky velvet dress; Nelson had better keep his hands off of you. No one but him would be touching you, on this night or any that came after.

It was difficult for him to stay away from you as the party stretched on, his unwitting pawn apparently needing to down some liquid courage before approaching you. It wasn’t only his own need to be by your side but your own desire to have him with you that nearly has him throwing his own plan out the window and whisking you upstairs and away from the world.

But he was a paranoid man, and he would not be making himself vulnerable without ascertaining your loyalty first.

Fortunately, you had exceeded his expectations, hardly giving the man the time of day as he’d first approached you. Margaret, aware of his plan as always, had played her part brilliantly, refusing to let you cling to her for protection and relieving you of your role as hostess for the evening. You’d have to deal with Nelson now.

He’d cracked the window just above the balcony where the man had rejoined you, eagerly listening in. His large hands gripped the windowsill hard enough to make it crack as he watches the man trying to cage you in, only loosening when you firmly shove the man away from you. Part of his investigation into Michael Nelson had been to determine if there was anything of concern with regards to his romantic history – he wanted to test you, but not if it meant some prick putting their hands on you, let alone causing you any harm. The PIs that he’d hired to dig up dirt had clearly been worth the money, as they’d been correct in their conclusion that Nelson wouldn’t force himself on a woman.

Hearing the way you take him to task was well worth the momentary stress of leaving you alone with another man. And when you’d called yourself his… he had immediately started to get hard, the urge to rush down and take you nearly overwhelming him.

And now he could. You had done more than pass his little test, you had shown him the depth of your devotion.

He waits until you storm past the man than had dared to refer to him as competition before making his way back to the ballroom. Keeping out of sight, he takes a moment to watch you searching for him with desperation. Your persistence is something to be rewarded, and to be rewarded now. Stepping into view, he makes sure to savour the look on your face when you lay eyes on him – relief, desire, need.

Perfect.

He lets you come to him, watching you gracefully twist and bend your body as you slip through the crowd towards him.

In an uncharacteristically public display of affection you throw yourself at him, locking your arms around his neck as you press your body up against him, your eyes seeking out his. He winds his arms around you in a tight hug before gripping your hips, holding you at an arm’s length from him.

“What’s the matter, doll? Are you alright?” he asks innocently. If he had his way (and he would), you would never know his role in how the evening had played out thus far.

Your brow creases adorably and you nibble your lip, likely trying to decide whether or not telling him the truth would have him disappearing to hunt down the man that dared to try to have you for himself. You decide to avoid the topic by gripping the lapels of his suit jacket and pulling him down far enough to speak in his ear.

“Take me somewhere where we can talk, please,” you beg in a breathy whisper, and the needy tone to your voice sends a thrill through him. He tucks you under his arm, immediately leading you to one of the studies just down the hall, closing and locking the door behind him. Ducking under his arm, you turn to face him with hooded eyes, though the tension held in your body is palpable.

“Tell me that I’m yours,” you plead with him, and your need to be claimed has celebratory fireworks going off in his head as you all but proclaim yourself his perfect little doll.

“Of course you are, sweetheart,” he coos, slowly guiding you backwards and over to his desk. You hop up onto it the moment your back hits the wood; he’s trained you well. “You’re all mine,” he purrs as he comes to stand before you, enjoying the way you relax at the words, letting out a deep breath. “But what’s this all about, sweetheart?” he asks, taking your face in hand and stroking your cheek.

“It’s nothing, I… I just wanted to hear you say it,” you mumble in a quiet voice, your eyes fluttering closed as though embarrassed, and that won’t do. The last thing he wants is you feeling ashamed about your need for him; you should be reveling in it. He decides to banish that thought from your pretty little head without dragging things out any further.

“Oh Y/N,” he croons, chuckling slightly. “I love you, my silly girl.”

The expression on your face as your eyes fly open is one that he vows to remember forever.

Reader’s POV:

You are completely taken aback by Terry’s confession, your eyes flying open to look at his face to determine if it was a joke or an accidental slip of the tongue. Instead you find his eyes locked onto your face, gauging your response with an intense expression of his own.

You never would’ve thought he’d be the one to say it first – part of you had thought that he wouldn’t say it ever – which was part of the reason you haven’t told him about your own feelings. Even though the depth of your love for him was likely very apparent, you hadn’t wanted to put it into words at the risk of scaring him off.

You gasp for breath after a prolonged silence, belatedly realizing you haven’t been bothering to breathe, the shock too much for your body to function normally.

“I – I – Oh!” you are unable to get the sentence out, your heart thudding too fast and too hard.

Terry, calm as ever, seems to identify the symptoms of a panic attack and moves to help you work through it, his large hands gripping your shoulders firmly but gently as he bends to your eye-level.

“Breathe with me, Y/N,” he instructs you, taking slow, deep breaths that you try your best to mimic. You keep your eyes locked with his, calmed by their gorgeous shade of blue, and after a few minutes of focus your breathing returns to normal.

“Are you alright, sweetheart?” he asks, looking you over with a watchful eye, his brow creasing slightly with worry.

“You love me?” you ask him somewhat incredulously in response to his question. You don’t think you’ll ever be simply ‘alright’ again after this. Terry’s gaze softens, and he takes your face in his hand once more, his thumb softly stroking your cheek.

“I do, but I won’t say it again if it’s going to give you a heart attack,” he jokes, his mouth quirked in a small smile. Your heart skips a beat, and you fight to stay calm, not wanting to give him a reason to stop this thread of conversation. You still can’t quite believe it.

“Say it again,” you beg him in a whisper, your body leaning towards him like a flower to the sun. His nostrils flare slightly as he moves to lean over you, his palms flat on the desk to either side of your hips, making you feel on edge as though he was a about to strike. He lowers his face close to yours, his eyes unblinking, and you feel yourself hypnotized.

“I. Love. You.”

He enunciates each word clearly in a deep, husky voice and the intensity of the confession has you trembling. Rather than the moment being awkward as you are physically unable say the words back to him, Terry seems to take in your reaction with a great deal of satisfaction, his lips curved upward in a slight smirk.

You’re not sure how you’re lucid or coordinated enough in this moment to pull the move off, but you somehow manage to launch yourself off the desk and into his arms, kissing him desperately as though you need the taste of him more than air.

Terry’s reflexes are lightning quick as always, his arms wrapping around you to support you as he returns the kiss, gradually returning you to your perch on his desk, though his lips never leave yours. Something about the way he’s kissing you breathless feels different from before; perhaps you’re just caught in the moment and imagining it, but every brush of his lips against yours feels more intimate, more precious, as though every second of sweet torment is conveying the depth of his love.

“I love you too,” you pant out the words once he lets you up for air, your fingers clinging to his suit jacket as you try to keep him pressed against you. His gaze is still possessive and sensual as he gazes down at you, but you see the way his eyes light up as soon as the words leave your lips. “Please never let me go, Terry.”

“Not a chance,” he growls at you, his hand tangling in your hair as he pulls you towards him for another searing kiss that makes your heart sing.

A loud ripping noise brings you out of your dazed stupor, and Terry’s hands running up your bare thighs helps you attribute the noise to him having torn your dress, extending the side slit from your knee up to your waist.

“Terry!” you whimper against his lips, though you know he doesn’t give a damn about the dress. You get the sense that he would tear through anything to get to you in this moment. He shushes you in response, his hands coming up to tear it off the rest of the way, throwing the scraps of fabric behind him.

“Nothing is going to keep me from having you, Y/N,” he growls against your skin as he laves kisses across your bared flesh, his hands gripping you tightly. Your hands eagerly reach for his belt and begin to unbuckle it, but he snatches your wrists, pinning them none-too-gently over your head against the desk and leaving you squirming as you lay exposed to him. “Oh no no no. You’re getting all the attention tonight, babygirl. I’m gonna make you earn my cock.”

Your head falls back against the desk with a groan – you thought Terry had been intense and nearly torturous with his teasing before. You can’t even imagine what you’re in for now. He chuckles darkly at your reaction, the sound sending a shiver down your spine.

Sitting you up, he tenderly removes your lingerie, his fingers barely brushing your skin and making your body yearn for more. You wriggle your hips to help him slide your underwear down your legs, your whole body tense as you brace yourself for whatever is about to happen.

Instead of touching you, Terry moves to the bar on the other side of the room, pouring himself a whisky. He takes a long sip as he stares you down before resting the glass on a side table as he shrugs off his jacket, draping it across the back of the chair. You wait patiently, biting your lip as you try not to squirm.

“Who do you belong to?” he asks you casually as he neatly rolls up his sleeves to his elbows, not a hair out of place while you sit on his desk flushed and naked.

“You!” you moan, clenching your thighs together as you desperately try to get some friction on your clit. “I’m all yours Terry, just please –”

“What were you made for?” he interrupts you, retrieving his drink and slowly making his way back over to you as though he didn’t have a care in the world. You can see his erection straining against the fabric of his pants, the only visible sign of his arousal.

“To please you,” you whimper, the words spilling past your lips oh-so naturally. He gives you a wolfish grin in your response.

“And what does that mean?” he asks, raising an eyebrow at you over the rim of his glass.

“It… it means I’ll do whatever you want?” you reply hesitantly, unsure if that’s the answer he’s looking for. “I’ll do anything, I’ll be anything, just please let me do something, Terry! I need you,” you whine, your fingers digging into the wood of the desk as you grip it tightly. And you do mean what you’re saying – you’re quite sure that you are so enamored by Terry Silver that you will happily do anything he asks of you.

“Let’s test that out,” he leers, a wicked gleam in his eye. “Push your tits together for me.”

Your hands immediately move up to grab your breasts, lifting them up and presenting them to him, your eyes rolling back into your head as your hardened nipples rub against your palms. Terry’s eyes glint as he polishes off his drink, never taking his eyes off of yours. He’s still too far away to touch you, and the realization has you nearly sobbing with need.

“Good girl,” he praises, and you feel yourself getting wetter. “Keep them there, and spread your legs.”

You feel your face burning with humiliation, but you do as he says with no hesitation, opening your legs for him.

“Wider.”

A whimper escapes your lips as you spread your legs as wide as you can, fully on display for him.

“Now tell me what you want.”

“Anything. Everything. Just please fucking touch me!”

Terry gives you a pleased grin, finally closing in on you. Tangling his free hand in your hair, he pulls your head back, pouring the remnants of whisky onto your chest and making you shiver as you try to remain in position.

“Such a perfect little doll,” Terry coos, running his hands along your legs. Dipping his head, he laps at the droplets of whisky that run down your body, pulling your hands away from your chest as he lays you back down on the desk, savouring every taste as you arch your back up towards him, craving more.

“You’re so good, so needy for me,” he breathes against the curve of your neck, his lower lip running along your sensitive skin to your ear. “I want you to keep track of how many times I make you come, Y/N. I’m gonna make every fucking inch of you mine tonight, inside and out.”

“Yes Sir,” you chirp up at him with a cheeky smile. He looks down at you with amusement, his dark eyes promising a long night of pleasure that will have you aching and spent.

“Then lay back, pretty girl, and let’s see just how quickly I can make you scream for me.”

It doesn’t take long; the instant his fingers brush against your neglected clit you are wailing for him. Terry pins your hips down with one arm, teasing you with his free hand, quickly pumping two and then three fingers into your tight heat. You let out a constant stream of moans, obscenities and his name the only coherent words you can produce.

“God Y/N, your pussy takes my fingers so good,” he groans, lifting his head and pausing his mouth’s vicious attack on your breasts to watch you coming apart from him.

“Meant to take you – please!” you choke out, tears in your eyes from the intensity of your desire. You can hardly believe how quickly he’s got you on the edge.

“You wanna come already, baby?” he taunts, laughing as you frantically nod your head, unable to speak.“Yeah? Talk dirty for me and let me hear how bad you want it.”

“TERRY PLEASE!” you scream, your voice hoarse and cracking. “Please don’t stop, please make me come for you!” Your fingernails dig into his forearm, trying to keep his hand in place. “I’m so close, you fingerfuck me so good! Right there baby, pleeeease!”

Terry takes your words to heart, keeping your hips still as he curls his fingers inside you, his thumb teasing your clit as your thighs clamp down hard on his hand as you come hard. He doesn’t relent, forcing you to stay in place as he draws out your orgasm, watching you with a fiendish delight as tears stream down your face, your chest heaving as you gasp for breath. Before you can even process anything he’s pushing you to another orgasm without you ever coming down from the high the first time.

After what feels like an eternity he lets up, pulling his hand from between your legs and wiping the evidence of your arousal on your chest until your breasts are shiny with it, the hickeys he’s given you dark and glossy along your flushed skin.

“How many was that, love?” he purrs the petname, smirking smugly down at you. He’s lifted one of your legs over his shoulder, massaging your calf to keep it from cramping up and laying kisses up and down your leg. You hold up two fingers, your hand trembling as you try to get your breathing under control, but he clucks his tongue at you. “Use your words, sweetheart.”

“T-Two,” you whine the word at him, feeling delirious. A low, pleased rumbling emanates from Terry’s chest, and he wordlessly switches the position of your legs to tend to the other.

“Only two, and you’re already such a mess for me, babygirl,” he croons as he kisses your ankle, his tone condescending in a way that has you shuddering with desire. Only Terry could have you feeling like both a dirty, desperate slut and the luckiest, most cherished woman in the world all at the same time. You give a noncommittal hum in response, unable to speak, but he clearly thinks that you’ve had enough of a break. “Flip over for me,” he demands, lowering your leg, and you force yourself to slide off the desk only to turn and bend over it, only barely having the presence of mind to curl your arms together to form a pillow.

“Oh, I know you haven’t had enough yet, doll. Not even close.”

You lift up one leg, your knee resting on the desk, presenting yourself to him to let him know you want more. Terry’s hands knead your ass roughly and you brace yourself with your hands on the desk to try to keep yourself upright. Sex with Terry was as much a mental act as it was a physical one; you always had to anticipate what he wanted from you and what he was going to do next.

“Beg for it.”

“Pleeeeease,” you groan, your eyes scrunched shut as you try to focus on getting the words out. “Please fuck me, Terry – I need you inside me!”

“Do you think I don’t know exactly what this pussy needs?” he snarls, delivering a sharp slap to your clit that has you lurching forwards against the desk and nearly going cross-eyed. He always seems to know just where your line is, getting as close to the boundary as he can in ways that you don’t know how to navigate yourself.

“You do you do you do!” you whine. “It’s yours, my whole body is yours!”

You recognize the sound of fabric rustling and brace yourself for a thorough fucking, but he refuses to touch you until you’re trembling with need.

“Show me how bad you want it, my dirty girl,” he growls, his hard cock teasing your slick entrance as he lubes himself up with your arousal.

With a desperate cry you force yourself to crawl fully on the desk, your shoulders and head pressed against the surface as you reach back and pull apart your thighs and ass, baring the most intimate parts of you to his gaze shamelessly. Your show of obedience is rewarded as he thrusts himself fully inside you, the bone-deep sense of completion echoing through the room as you both moan loudly with satisfaction.

“God, I love this tight little body of yours,” he hisses through his teeth, reaching around to pull you back against his chest, large hands playing roughly with your nipples as your head lolls back against him; you’re completely cock-drunk. “Perfect little cocksleeve… just made for me…”

“M-M-Made for you – ah!” you keen as he fucks you at a new angle, the fat head of his cock hitting your cervix hard enough to ache deliciously. “L-Love you, n-need it so m-much!”

Terry’s hands grip you hard enough to bruise as he ruts into you almost frantically; your admission of love in the heat of the moment making him thrust into you at a furious pace as he takes his pleasure in your entire body and makes you sing for him.

“Take one more, sweetheart. Let me give you just one more,” he coaxes you in a hoarse, guttural voice, clutching you to him like a man possessed.

You grind your hips back against him, your brain and body unable to do anything except try to get him in deeper…harder… He could fuck you every day for forever and you don’t think you’d ever get enough, even as he utterly overwhelms you.

“That’s it, my sweet girl; ride my cock and come with me,” he coos, his muscles straining slightly as he holds you tightly right where he wants you.

“Yes fuck Terry YES!” you chant over and over in time with your ass bouncing against his hips, completely mindless with pleasure.

“That’s it baby, get after it,” he growls, leaning down to bite your shoulder as he pistons his cock to fuck up and into you. “Be a good girl and let me feel that pretty pussy come all over my cock.”

You roll your hips, grinding against him and moaning wantonly, feeling so damn close.

“Just one more, and then my little slut gets a break before I take her upstairs,” he urges you. “Take me, sweetheart – take all my love.”

Your pussy clamps down, squeezing his cock tightly as his words take you over the edge. Terry’s hands slide down your hips, holding you down on his cock as he comes as deep inside you as he can with a low grunt of your name. You both catch your breath, your body slick with sweat against Terry, who somehow still doesn’t have a hair out of place.

“Three?” he asks quietly as he gently guides you to sit back on the desk. You let out a whimper, your pussy tender from his rough attentions.

“Three,” you confirm the number of orgasms, giving him a sheepish, sleepy grin.

“I think that’s earned you a bit of a break then, princess,” he announces, and you bite back a sigh of relief.

Terry walks over to the chair, picking up his suit jacket and laying it over his arm. Your eyes scan the floor, spotting the scraps of your torn dress, and you look up at him with wide eyes. He stares back, his head slightly cocked to the side as though considering something, his eyes tracking you as you retrieve your lingerie; at least that was still in tact.

“Who do you belong to?” he asks suddenly, still surveying you with bright eyes, and you know it’s a test. You walk over to him, trying not to stumble with your weak knees, dropping to the ground when you get close and dropping to your knees. You crawl to his feet, nuzzling your face against his legs in answer to his question. After a moment you feel one of his hands in your hair, stroking the top of your head almost shyly. Looking up at him, you see him looking down at you with a soft smile.

“God, I love you,” he whispers, a tone of awe in his voice that has you feeling all tingly. He offers you his hand, pulling you to your feet and into his arms. You stand on your toes, calves twinging slightly, and lay a chaste kiss on his lips.

“I love you too, Terry.”

He tosses his jacket around your shoulders, helping you put your arms through the long sleeves; you must look a mess right about now, but from the way he’s looking at you, you might as well be a queen in his eyes.

“Your job now,” he begins quietly, and you find yourself automatically straightening in response to his commanding tone, “is to make it upstairs with nobody seeing you.”

Just the thought of anyone seeing you like this, reeking of sweat and sex and wrapped only in Terry’s jacket has you blushing. No, only Terry could see you like this.

You know who you belong to.

Giving him a nod, you move to retrieve your shoes, concealing them beneath your coat with your lingerie and your ruined dress.

“I’ll go make our excuses for the evening, and tell Margaret that we are not to be disturbed. By the time I join you upstairs, I expect to find you on all fours on the bed. I want that ass to be the first thing I see when I walk in.”

You can’t help the noise that escapes you, and he arches an eyebrow at you in response.

“You didn’t really think we’d be stopping after three, did you?” he asks incredulously, giving you a laugh. “Oh, Y/N, you’re in for a long night.”

He walks over to the door, turning back to you before unlocking it. You have no idea how long the two of you have been gone for.

“Nothing’s for free, doll,” he murmurs, taking your face in his hand and running his thumb along your swollen bottom lip. “You’re gonna pay for what you do to me, and you’re gonna thank me for it.”

He turns away from you without another word, leaving the door open behind him as he returns to your guests. You nervously peek your head out, making sure the coast is clear before scampering down the hall and up the stairs, trying to keep hold of your bundle of clothing.

The price of owning Terry’s heart is high, but you’re content to be forever in his debt.

(I know this isn't the most fitting gif, but I think it still fits and I couldn't resist after seeing the way it pans down to show the extent of the slutty gi!)

---

Thanks for your patience everyone, and I hope you enjoyed! I did have some ideas for when they make it up to the bedroom where he really pushes you over the edge, so if anyone would want to see that at some point just throw it in my inbox!

[terrence-silver]

Could you please do Terry telling John about Beloved or introducing them to each other?

Thank you 😊

---

John Kreese wasn't exactly always all for the kind of people Terry tended to lead around on his arm; hook, line and sinker. He let that be known at times, in a paternalistic way someone slightly older lets these things be known --- and Terry was rich enough to where someone needed to be sincere with him once in a while --- someone who wasn't a paid suck up --- for his own good.

Wasn't John's manner to pussyfoot around.

Terry knew that and John knew that he knew.

Sure, call him old fashioned, but he believed in something called real, proper, goddamn love; people meet, go steady, like each for all the right reasons and settle down honestly, as they should. An ideal as universal and American as sliced pie and the pickled fence it went hand in hand with. He fought for that dream. Bled for it. Before Vietnam, John could even see himself coming home to such a life if what happened to Betsy didn't happen. She died. That was it. John didn't run from the hard facts and hard knocks of life, instead, he faced them head on like a man should. Much like Terry had to face that pretentious, fortune hunting high-end paid escorts, crooks after his money and influence and perfumed whores of any persuasion no matter how slick about their trade weren't necessarily the right kind to bring home. Fuck, yes. Have fun and enjoy life with, yes. Blow off some steam with and have orgies with on a private island or whatever Terry got up to these days, sure. But not to bring home. Least of all, expect John to take it all seriously. It wasn't the whoring itself as much as it was the lack of honest intentions. Hell, John tended to feel like something of a mother hen sometimes, teaching a grown man who and what to date when Terry was more than capable of taking care of himself and was slick as the slickest among them himself. He worried that the Cobra would encounter a greater predator in the gardens of life than itself and that struck him as ludicrous at this point when Terry was literally gracing the cover of Forbes. He supposed he worried the way an older brother or a father does. The way a Captain does. He supposed he sometimes still tended to see Twig in Terry, flustered about the concept of second base.

He saw Twig, in shimmers, as he spoke, through the occasional sheen in Terry's eyes.

He hasn't seen Twig in Terry's eyes for years.

-"So, how do you know?"- John amused himself, grimly, mustering a sincere half-grin, questioning Terry as they stood on the balcony of his mansion overlooking the vista. He was listening for nearly months about this special someone to the point that he caught that Terry actually wanted to be questioned more on the subject and for John to show an interest and he took as a cue to do so. Deduced that much. The subject of you was like a mouse Terry dropped at his feet, waiting for his praise.

-"I know."-

Terry giggled, elongating his 'know' into suggestive lengths as was his habit, cheeks puffed under the weight of his wide, crooked smile, his pores practically lighting up with mirth. His twinkling beam taking up the space of his entire face until his eyes and overall features were barely visible and hooded under his brow. Man was quite literally all smiles. Well now. Usually, Terry would go into salacious details, but now, he appeared more like a flustered boy, talking about a school crush.

-"That good, huh?"-

John has to quip, elbowing Terry into the side. The sex must've been out of this world...with this near-mythical being in question. -"You surprise me, Lieutenant."- He adds, entertained. -"Thought there wasn't anything under the sun that can get you whipped that much."- Usually, Terry's desires were extremely physical and in a sense, he couldn't help but be proud of the man Terry grew up to be since the army. Most eligible playboy in California. Who would've thought? -"Thought you tried it all."- He has to continue, now more serious, feeling Terry might conflate lust with love at times, making little to no differences between the two. Think just because someone can do outstanding endeavors in bed, it must mean that someone is innately special. John wasn't a prude --- far from. He had his share of life. He just hated to see a friend making a goddamn fool out of himself over some tail.

-"You know, we talked after it, man. Really talked."- Terry tries, fiery.

John's interest is renewed. Talked?

-"The way you and I talk."-

Terry explains fondly, vehemently, fingers reaching and pointing towards his own torso and then John's for emphasis, and John's taken back to a time of campfire chats deep into the night during long patrols in the bush. Comforting Terry when he was sick during marches and rambling on for hours to keep him awake and from succumbing to his wounds. Sharing dreams and hopes. Talking to pass time. Alleviate fear. Times of trouble, turns out, serve as the best moments a man can have the talk of his life and somehow, forging a brotherhood baptized in blood and John understands then. -"Never thought I'd be able to do that with anyone ever again."- Terry finishes off, Twig loud and clear on his face. John Kreese figures then, nodding, that you're not someone he'd mind meeting.

[lovelyluna9001]

Watching every Triple Crown Championship and Champion Carnival match. If you want to watch these matches (there are playlists of each defence per year on Dailymotion on 'Sugar J's channel. Below I will give a description of my history watching All Japan Pro Wrestling.

This is from my Threads, (also on my Bluesky, and originally written on my Cagematch)

I have had a fascination with AJPW for a long time, hearing about it was about its supposed peak in the 90s, and how it is supposed to be the best period for in ring wrestling ever. I found it especially interesting given how in 2000 all but two of their native talent stayed with the company, as everyone else had gone into an exodus, forming Pro Wrestling NOAH lead my Mitsuharu Misawa, their ace at the time, and how it survived into modern day despite this. I have mostly watched the current product, which is very good, but have only watched off and on, overall I am a fan. The stuff I have seen of the older stuff is good, but never best of all time (the only five star match I have given prior to modern stuff is Holy Demon Army vs No Fear.

1. Stan Hansen vs. Jumbo Tsuruta (18.4.1989)

A pretty good match, there was some nice brawling, on the slow side and the climax isn't massive, but good. Highlighting Hansen's lariat as his best weapon, but his overreliance makes it hard for him to go for anything else, and Tsuruta would capitalise. Tsuruta was a worthy first champion, being AJPW's ace, he was a good choice. ***½

2. Jumbo Tsuruta (c) vs. Genichiro Tenryu (20.4.89)

There was a lot of heat at the start of the match, but then it went into some grappling, and not the most inspired grappling either. It got hotter over time, especially when Tenryu began taking it to Tsuruta, diving to him on the outside, and trying to keep the higher ground, and make sure Tsuruta stayed out of the ring. The match ended with with a wicked power bomb from Tsuruta, it clearly knocked out Tenryu, so the match seemingly ended early. ***¾

3. Jumbo Tsuruta (c) vs. Genichiro Tenryu (05.06.1989)

Excellent match, the best Triple Crown Championship match at the time by far, and deserving of its praise, a great audience reaction really made it a lot better. The constant action is clearly a way to retreave Tenryu's cred. They succeeded, especially as he got the titles and it feels big. ****1/2

4. Yoshiaki Yatsu vs. Genichiro Tenryu (c) (18.07.1989)

Yatsu using his tricks to keep in the match against the much stronger and resileant Tenryu was cool to watch. Tenryu is used to fighting opponents similar to him, pitting strength against strength. Yatsu's plan keeps him ahead for a bit, but Tenryu just could not be denied. ****

5. Genichiro Tenryu (c) vs. Terry Gordy (2.09.1989)

Exciting is the key word here. Terry Gordy is young, strong, and energetic. He wants to prove himself by taking it to Tenryu, Gordy wants to gain the respect of Tenryu, and posibly the fans by beating Tenryu for the belts, and uses the simple plan of beat him, until he is done. Although he loses he gains the respect of Tenryu in an excellent effort. (****¼)

6. Genichiro Tenryu (c) vs. Jumbo Tsuruta (11.10.1989)

Really fun, a suprising amount of weapon usage, but that was fine. They went hard against each other. Also, a lot of great near falls. Well worth watching, and caps of an amazing reign for Tenryu. (****½)

7. Barry Windham vs. Jumbo Tsuruta (c) (06.03.1990)

The worst Triple Crown defence so far. Barry Windham is quite a good wrestler, but they did not jive together particuarly well. This is clearly a lesser priority, as the Tag Titles were defended in the main event. This was clipped as well. (***)

8. Genichiro Tenryu vs. Jumbo Tsuruta (c) (19.04.1990)

Disappointing, it was pretty good, but not to the the standard. The focus over the attack by Stan Hansen weakened it a fair bit. I really enjoyed his Triple Crown matches, so it is disappointing it wasn't to the same standard of his other matches. ***1/2

This is the last Tenryu Triple Crown Championship match until 2000, as he left for SWS

9. Jumbo Tsuruta (c) vs. Terry Gordy (05.06.1990)

Decent enough, a bit of a step down, but it had the factor of a suprise result unlike the previous match, and a few good big spots. ***1/4

10. Stan Hansen vs. Terry Gordy (c) (08.06.1990)

So far the worst of the Triple Crown matches so far. It just made the Terry Gordy reign pointless, and is worse then if he just lost at the defence. Even worse was that it wasn't the main event, its not for the first time, but the main, even if legendary had nothing on the line, this should have happened later, as a rematch happens anyway. **3/4

11. Stan Hansen (c) vs. Terry Gordy (17.07.1990)

I found this match to be dreadfully dull. Why book Gordy to lose to Hansen only to win it again, with no sucessful defences since Gordy first won it. Very pointless on all levels. (**)

Gordy would have to vacate it as he had an overdose, and would never wrestle well again (not that he was a good champion).

12. Mitsuharu Misawa vs. Stan Hansen (27.07.1990)

Pretty good, a big step compared to the rest of 1990's defences (barring Tenryu vs Tsuruta which was good, but not there best effort - with no 1990 Triple Crown match getting a four star rating) They don't jell to well against one another, but both fought hard which kept it together, unlike the rest of Triple Crown stuff. *** ½

13. Stan Hansen (c) vs. Steve Williams (01.09.1990)

Hansen and Williams had a fairly good match, but it was JIP, one of the better 1990 Triple Crown Championship matches, but that is a low bar. There battle was somewhat heated, but not to the level where I did not feel riped off on it being JIP. ***¼

14. Jumbo Tsuruta vs. Stan Hansen (c) (19.01.1991)

Stan Hansen continues to be a good, but never great wrestler on this watch, he was apparently having great tag matches at the time, but it doesn't show up, at least not at this point. I am desperately missing Tenryu on this watch, as he is the guy who made the title feel as important and bring it, as much as people praise 90s AJPW. Good, not great, strong strikes, but nothing blow away. (***¾)

15. Jumbo Tsuruta vs. Stan Hansen (16.04.1991) (CC)

Pretty good, but I am getting bored of Stan Hansen in this watch of Triple Crown matches and CC finals, his results are good a fair bit of the time, but not as good as Tsuruta, or near Tenryu. Just another match between the two ***½.

A LOT MORE TO COME.

[kelsywrites]

Time & Space Colliding

Chapter 8

“What’s this for?”

“If you ever lose your watch.” He paused and met her eyes looking at her intently, “Remember what I’ve told you.”

She nodded feeling a sense of urgency coming from him.

“It’s almost time…” glancing over his shoulder and then at his watch before he continued, “I have to go…CJ you are a star in a galaxy.” His mouth slanted into an endearing smile.

The way he smiled and the look in his eyes made her ponder how much he knew, and how little she knew. He was gone instantly, and she felt a sudden loss but pushed it aside.

Just a child then the memory felt so real, his voice still ringing clearly in her ears. His face had been a foggy memory until recently.

When she needed him most, he somehow managed to come through, even if it was just a memory, she found comfort in the lessons he taught, and the little joys he shared with her. He was the one that introduced her to music and told her to feel it and enjoy it. Simple joys got her through her rigorous schooling and training.

Now when she felt most lost and confused she clung to the little pendant he had given her and listened to the songs she had stored away in her memory banks. Safe and mending, for now, she knew it wouldn’t be long before she’d be found. The moment her mission had been compromised she became a liability. Time had always been a precious thing, but now she felt the weight of it and began to understand the ease with which one found themselves living in the past…dreading or hoping for the future.

She was a star in a galaxy, a galaxy filled with millions of stars, she was one bright light among many others but she was still shining…she still had life, purpose…Destiny.

 ҉

 “Lying in my bed, I hear the clock tick and think of you. Caught up in circles, confusion is nothing new.”

Terrence watched as Edison belted out Cyndi Lauper. She was a natural performer, owned the stage, the song, and captivated the crowd. He sipped from his Rowdy Ranger, the specialty mocktail for the night.

“If you’re lost you can look, and you will find me, time after time. If you fall I will catch you, I will be waiting, time after time.” Eddi belted the lyrics feeling the release that came with the music.

Terry got caught up in the lyrics, brought to life by Eddi. As much as he hated to admit it, she was right, he needed this. With all that had happened, he had lost himself in fear and worry. After losing his dad and then Scotty he began to close off afraid to feel the weight of that loss again. It wasn’t fair to Eddi or to himself. He had forgotten what it felt like to be in the moment. His mind wandered to Deni and the way she had enjoyed the music; their short time together had been refreshing. Eddi was right this all was terrifyingly trippy and extremely exciting.

“Time after time…” the crowd exploded in shouts and applause as the song came to an end. Eddi bowed and then jumped off the stage. Terry was whooping and she came up to him. “I fucking crushed it!” She watched the smile spread across his face as he high-fived her.

“Watch out Cyndi Lauper.”

“Thanks, Terry. I’m glad you came.”

He laughed. and in unison they replied, “that’s what she said.”

         “Thanks for dragging me along. Don’t let it go to your head, but you were right.”

         Others came up to offer their praises as Terry closed out. He watched as she beamed looking alive and in her element.

 ҉

           Terrence held the note in his hand again staring at it. For the first time in a long time, he felt like he was thinking clearly, and he studied it with fresh eyes. He couldn’t shake what Rachel had said on the porch the other night. Stanley called him Kid because that’s what his father always called him. He jumped up from the table startling Eddi. She watched him rush to Stanley’s desk and rifle through some papers.

         “What is it?”

         He pulled out a card and looked at the handwriting his throat constricting. There was a tremor building in his fingers and he tightened his grip on the note and the card comparing the handwriting.

         “Terry?” the look on his face alarmed Edison and she stood to her feet from where she sat looking over records of the pawn shop. Stepping up beside him she glanced down at the note and then the card. She inhaled sharply noticing their likeness. “Terry?” Her gaze shifted up to his face. Dread and confusion shadowed it.

         “What…” he swallowed trying to clear his throat, “what does this mean?”

         “Similar handwriting…”

         He stared at it. No, it was a perfect match. How had he not seen this before? “Eddi…” his voice cut off and he turned and stormed out of the room and down the hall.

         “What are you not telling me?” his voice thick with trepidation as he stormed into Stanley’s room.

         “I’ve told you what you need to know,” Stanley replied pulling himself from his bed into his chair.

         TJ threw the note and card into his lap and clenched his hands into fists fighting the urge to lash out.

         Eddi glanced from Terry to Stanley who now studied the pieces of paper cautiously. She had never seen Stanley look so caught off guard.

         “Where’s the watch?”

         Stanley gestured to his dresser and spoke steadily, “It doesn’t work. I wasn’t sure it was your father. I had seen him wear one similar once.”

         “Where’d you find this one?”

         He pursed his lips and met TJ’s gaze, “I found it…when I was looking for answers to what happened to your father.”

         “What…what do you mean? What aren’t you telling me, Stanley?”

         “Terrence take a breath and listen.”

         “Stop it with your weird sensei shit.”

         Stanley closed his eyes.

         Eddi could see Terry losing his patience.

         “Your dad appeared in a few of my dreams. It was harder for me to accept than you. I think maybe it’s because you have always been like your dad.”

         “What are you saying…”

         “I don’t have the answers you’re looking for. All I have is what your dad told me. Believe me, kid I’ve been trying to unravel this mystery for a long time. I had a dream about the accident before it happened, only I couldn’t prevent it. Before that, I had dreams about different things. Your dad knew things that he shouldn’t have, he’d show up in places that he shouldn’t have been, and he had outlandish explanations that made it hard for me to trust him. But he proved himself over and over. Saved my life on multiple occasions but whenever I asked questions, he’d always say I ask a lot of questions…”

         “What…” his voice caught in his throat, and he felt his legs become weak, “what did you say?”

         Stanley stared at TJ.

         “Say that again…”

         Eddi was spooked by the way Terry’s voice shook, she watched him ease himself onto the bed his eyes looking distant as if they were searching for something far off.

         When Stanley didn’t speak, she glanced at him. She watched Stanley reach out and lay a hand on Terry’s shoulder. “I’m sorry I didn’t say anything right away, but I wanted to confirm my suspicions. I wanted to have all the answers before I came to you. I don’t have any answers for you…all I know is this feeling. The moment I saw Deni I had a gut feeling that she was like your father…but I had no way of confirming that.”

         “Like my father?”

         “Like I said I don’t have answers…in fact, I don’t understand it…I learned not to ask questions, but to observe from your father. He’d only answer what he would say were the right questions.”

         Terrence felt like he couldn’t breathe. His head was spinning, and he closed his eyes.

         “TJ breathe…”

         “I can’t…” he shook his head and fought the wave of emotion that crashed over him, “I can’t…I don’t understand.”

         Eddi watched his face contort in torment before he buried it in his hands. She felt helpless as she stood there. Tears began to stream down her own face. “Stanley?”

         He glanced at her and smiled weakly before gesturing for her to come sit down next to Terry.

         Sitting down next to him she slowly wrapped her arm around his shoulders attempting to offer some sort of comfort. She’d seen him emotional but never quite like this.

“TJ…your connection with Deni is stronger than you know. I believe it’s stronger than the one I had with your father. You have many questions I know son…but think of the one that matters right now.”

Thick silence hung in the air and seemed to suck the oxygen from her own lungs. Eddi had no clue what was going through Terry’s head and found this all so uncomfortable and confusing. It was like trying to unwind a tangled ball of yarn.

TJ felt heavy and weak. He fought to regain control and took a deep breath before blowing it out and standing on his unsteady feet. “I need to get some air.”

 He walked down the street in the dark bitter cold of the night. His mind trying to put the pieces of this puzzle together, his heart feeling conflicted with emotions. Why did he feel angry? Was he mad at Stanley? At his dad? No, he wasn’t angry. Inadequate…he was feeling inadequate…useless and ashamed. That wasn’t easy to accept, he’d rather be angry. How was he supposed to fix inadequate? What was he supposed to do? What could he do? He was so lost and confused.

           “He’s a fighter…”

         Terrence’s eyes shifted from burning holes into the ground at his feet to Scotty’s older brother who spoke softly and uneasily. He looked rough, with dark circles under his eyes and hair disheveled. There was scruff on his ghostly face, he looked like he hadn’t slept in days.

         There were no words. He felt numb and empty.

         “Pup will pull through.”

         Was he trying to convince Terry or himself? His voice sounded hollow. Not sure how to respond only knowing that he knew in his gut that Scotty was already gone. He knew this feeling.

         They stood silently next to each other, holding up the exterior wall of the hospital. The air was brisk outside and seemed to bite his face with the wind. There was a pit in his stomach and a knot in his throat.

         “I swear if he dies on me, I’ll whoop his ass.”

         Silence followed his statement and Terry realized that Owen was crying. He felt strange standing there not sure how to offer comfort. Dull inside, afraid to feel the weight of this, knowing it was going to crush him once he did. Afraid to acknowledge Owen…afraid that it would make this all real.

         “It’s unfair. This world is so twisted. I go off to war and come home with not even a scratch on me and my kid brother gets shot in our own neighborhood. How does that make any sense?”

         Those words pulled at his heart and he felt the weight that Owen was bearing. Tears stung his eyes and he fought to keep his breathing even.

         “Fuck I’m sorry Terry…” Owen pulled him into a hug, “Can’t imagine what you’re going through. Being there. Seeing it happen. You didn’t deserve this either. Fucking war zone in our own neighborhood. Why are we going to fight in other countries when we don’t even have peace at home.” His voice was rough with emotion but steady. It was then that TJ broke down. The strength and comfort that Owen offered in spite of his own pain, shattered the barrier he had built up, and he crumbled in his embrace. Sobs wracked his body as he relived the bloody, horrifying night.

         “I’m here for you.” He pulled away and stared into Terry’s eyes, “I never knew your dad, but I know that he raised one of my brother’s best friends, and I’m grateful for that. No matter what happens, I’ll be here for you and Eddi. If there comes a day where you’re doubting yourself or you feel lost, confused, or like giving up…I’m here.”

         “Hey, let me call you back someone’s at the door.” He peeked through the peephole and then quickly unlocked the door and opened it. “Terry.”

         “Hey, Owen…”

         Owen stepped aside and gestured for him to come in. “Mom said you and Eddi stopped by her place the other night. I know she enjoyed seeing you two. Heard about Eddi’s apartment. Got the office working on finding Eddi a new place. How is she holding up?”

         “Actually, better than me.”

         “I wasn’t going to say anything, but you look awful.”

         “Thanks.”

         “Can I get you a drink?”

         “No.” Terry sighed and sat down, “I don’t really know why I’m here. I needed air and just started walking and ended up here.”

         “You know you and Eddi are always welcome. Haven’t seen you in a while. I’m glad you stopped by. What’s been going on?”

         Terry chewed on his bottom lip while he searched for words. “I’m so lost right now. I’m feeling inept…”

         Owen sat there quietly, as though he was letting Terry’s words sink in. After a moment he broke the silence, “Are you inept, incompetent, useless?”

         He thought about the question. The wrong answer was yes but that’s how he was feeling…were his feelings not valid?

         “Terry…you know the answer. Maybe you’re overwhelmed by a situation or maybe it’s something else, but you’re lying to yourself right now. You’re not going to find the answers while you’re lying to yourself. What is it you’re really feeling?”

         Suddenly, he felt trapped, forced to examine himself. He huffed out a shaky sigh, “I’m fucking terrified.”

         “There it is.” Owen leaned back into the couch, “You’re no less of a man for feeling or admitting that. Now, why are you terrified? How is this fear making you feel?”

          “Frozen, paralyzed…I can’t think clearly. I’m afraid of what I’m going to find. I’m afraid of asking the right questions. I’m afraid of getting hurt, or someone I care about getting hurt.”

         “So you’re not inept…you’re frozen in fear?” Owen patted him on the back, “Progress…” Owen stood up and grabbed something from his shelf. “You know I’ve been frozen in fear many times. There were a few times before boxing matches that I stood in the locker room psyching myself out. I let the fear get bigger than me and control me.”

         “What did you do?”

         “Scotty once told me that he liked fear…saw it as a challenge. Himself challenging himself, and when you face fear, you can’t fail.” He chuckled softly as he turned around looking back at Terry, “One of my first big fights, Scott was still pretty young, his small scrawny self. I was standing in the locker room trying to get the courage to face the music but instead, I was being eaten alive by my fear. He came in to wish me luck, and I guess he could tell I was afraid because he said ‘If you don’t fight him, I’m going to.’ He wasn’t fearless…he was courageous.”

         He stepped up to Terry, “Here I want you to have this. Scotty gave it to me before I went off to boot camp…told me then that the only fight I ever had to win was the one against myself. Those words got me through some pretty rough times.”

         “I can’t take this.” TJ swallowed as he looked up from the pendant to Owen.

         “Terry, I want you to have it.” He pressed it into his hand. “It’s the Celtic symbol for courage…”

         TJ swallowed the lump in his throat and studied the pendant. “Owen…I don’t know what to say.”

         “I think you need to go talk to Eddi.” He smiled at him, “If I know you at all you live too much in your head…you’re going to lose the fight against yourself if you keep doing that.”

         “When did you become a psychologist.”

         “I’ve just been to a lot of therapy.” Owen laughed and pointed at his head, “believe it or not I’m pretty messed up in here.”

[burritosandpeppermint]

I'll just get it out of the way: here's the link if anyone else wants to read my silly scribbles.

I was honestly overwhelmed last night; I could barely watch TV or eat and eventually had to go out for a walk where I'm sure the people in our neighborhood who were out for a stroll or walking their dogs weren't at all carefully watching the six foot middle aged man shuffling down the sidewalk, head down, mumbling to himself about what it all meant. Maybe if there's a neighborhood watch I'll join it and say "Yes, who was that man?" as I twirl the fake mustache that I've glued over my real mustache. "He sounds quite disturbed!"

I came home and journaled about it a little and kinda finally calmed myself down a little bit. Later when Noelle came home we caught each other up on our day as usual and I couldn't help but share everything and of course she's excited for me (and possibly reading this now: Hi, Noelle!).

In journaling and talking with Noelle I think I started to understand why I feel so overwhelmed, my heart racing, my imagination running wild.

The first thing, I think, is just this...exposure to so many people. Due to a few viral flukes I have way more followers than I think I really should, but really I interact with maybe a dozen of you, so I kind of consider my Tumblr world to be no bigger than that, really. Maybe far more people actually look at my posts but we're talking interaction here, and that means "confirmed" exposure, when I know for a fact that someone has seen whatever I've posted or reblogged. I'm used to my world being only so large, so this feels like my little zine got published in the New York Times. I HAVE BEEN OBSERVED.

The second thing is the praise and compliments. Guys, this is the first piece of fiction that I've even attempted in well over 20 years, since my college days where I thought that by taking literature classes and getting on the fast track to teaching I'd find my life's purpose...before I had to drop out to work full time to help pay rent in the apartment my friends and I had in El Cerrito, and also to help pay for my alcohol and nicotine habits. I regretted not truly attempting new writing or poetry but also resigned myself to the life of a worker; not that laborers or people who hold full time jobs can't be creative, but I just didn't seem to have the spark, really, so I turned my back on the idea. Then out of nowhere a few weeks ago I decided to visit the writing prompts blog and saw something that seemed kinda cute and Terry Pratchett-y and I just kind of ran with it. And worked on it. I mean I really worked on it: changing POV and tenses, genders and pronouns, fleshing out characters more and giving them some depth, and ultimately my idea of a 3-4 page story just blew up. I eventually got tired of writing and re-writing and analyzing every line and just "published" it, ready to move on to the busy work week ahead of me. There was a reblog and a like here or there but otherwise nothing, and that was completely fine. I honestly expected little to nothing and kinda forgot about it. And then the writing prompt blog reblogged it yesterday afternoon and...guys...and by that I mean all of Tumblr...y'all are so sweet, and kind, and encouraging, and I'm so glad you enjoyed the witches names. And I provide all that context above because I currently work in a job that is fulfilling to a degree; it has its challenges and opportunities, it's a niche career that I can probably stay in for the rest of my working life (read: until I die), and I'm well enough liked in the industry. That being said, the corporate masters don't understand our work, and therefore don't understand our value, and our customers, whom we are trying to help, don't either, and frankly question our purpose if they don't outright ignore us. It can be really disheartening to know what good work I can do and to have it be well regarded within my industry's world while also unknown, avoided or reviled by seemingly everyone else. So to take a stab at something almost as a distraction from the norm (read: job*) and put it out there and have it get the Tumblr crush of positive attention...it's like having someone break our window, throw a fire hose through it saying "Candy delivery!" as candy shoots out of it, then there's a knock on the door and I answer and there are 100 people as part of a kitten and puppy delivery service and they just start handing me animal after animal. It's a lot, to say the least.

And encouraging.

That leads to my third point.

Can I do this? Is this something that I can do?

I have some ideas for back stories for almost all of the characters involved. I have vague ideas on what they do next and what happens to them after the story I published, which also has to be filled out more. I can see more of their adventures; a series of stories, really. I have some science fiction story ideas as well.

Can I do this? Is this something that I can do?

I'm not going to pretend that I can quit my day job any time soon; indeed, the likelihood of that is very, very small (be careful putting exciting ideas in the head of someone touched with mania because we will take that and just run with it right off the playing field of reality). But it doesn't mean I can't devote myself to a hobby; that I can't read more fiction to learn how others have done it; that I can't join groups of other writers (my default reaction to joining any group or being social with strangers is "NO!" so I'll have to talk myself into that one over time); and it ultimately doesn't mean that I can't self-publish if I decide that it could be a good move. Or not. I could just write little stories and publish them...somewhere? I guess Tumblr, but maybe there are other places? I mean, I see y'all posting about AO3 all the time but that seems more like it's for fandoms and such. ANYWAY, my point is that I can play with this and see what happens.

Even though I was tired last night I was still in an excited state by all of this so I got just a liiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiitle bit extra huge stoned (happy 20th of April!). I got a solid five-ish hours of sleep but woke up an hour earlier than usual and couldn't fall back to sleep again. I'll probably pay for that with a nap. I should have light work this morning and a one-to-one with my manager. Life will be normal.

But it won't be normal, possibly never again. If I commit, if I act, if I let myself free my life will be different, and I'll be writing my own future.

*I swear I didn't write it on my work time** **too much

Okay so I think everyone decided to get stoned today (appropriately) and read my little story from last week based on that writing prompt blog and it's getting reblogged and liked like crazy and everyone is being so sweet and supportive and kind and I'm a little uncomfortable because I don't know what to do with this and it's a bit much for me to handle right now so I've got some things in the queue but otherwise I don't know that I'll be on here very much for the rest of the night because it's a lot.

[megamindsecretlair]

heyyyy sugarplummm, you already know why i’m here🤭🤭🤭. i’d love to a request for teddy richmond??? im thinking smutty smutty down to the ground, but i NEEDDDD overstimulation from oc to teddy and him tapping out??? some crazy crazy shit LMAOOOO please and thank you, i would forever be in your debt🫂🫂🫂🫂🫂

A/N: Hope I did it justice! I read a FILTHY fic from @planetblaque, make sure you check her fic out here! Good & Plenty

Ruined

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

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. SMUT. PWP, cursing, PIV, oral (female and male receiving), fingering (fem receiving), teasing, size kink, dirty talk, face sitting, mean Terry, daddy kink, praise kink, overstimulation, reader is able to be picked up, all consensual. Sorry if I missed some, rushing.

Summary: See Ask. Story by @uniqueoutlierblog . Terry has been spending more time in the gym lately, preferring to retreat into his head like he often does. Tonight, however, you aim to take his mind off of his worries if only for a little while.

Word Count: 3,232k

AO3 Link

A/N: Ya'll don't ask about this man no more! I need to focus on this book, lordt LOL. He has rotted my brain, enjoy! Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment, gif, or unhinged ask.

Your favorite part of your nightly routine was watching Terry workout. He was never more so in his element then when he was pumping iron, blasting his metal music, and in the zone. He became so focused, lifting weights, leg day, arm day, biceps, triceps, and whatever else he managed to hone into a deadly weapon.

You joined him most nights, but quickly became entranced in the way he lifted his body doing pull ups. Or working his legs out on the machine. Your home gym was nothing to sniff at. Making him deck it out in all of the equipment he ever wanted when he got his settlement from Shelby Springs. 

You liked using the bike mostly, setting a program, and pretending to ride up the side of a mountain. You were able to zone out, picturing the mountain air and the subtle breeze. It was a wonderful sight to behold but did little in comparison to Terry’s massive form. 

Terry had been a little distant lately, spending more and more time in the gym instead of resting. You entered the gym now to find him facing the wall of mirrors along the far wall, watching himself as he lifted heavy weights in his arms, doing curls. 

Something was bothering him. You bit your lip as you watched him. What could it be? 

He was focused, not even noticing that you were standing in the doorway. He wore a dusky blue tank and black shorts, compression shorts underneath showing off massive thighs. His earphones were in his ear, probably listening to his favorite band. 

You thought over what could possibly be his problem… it occurred to you. It was the anniversary of all the shit that went down. Losing his cousin, violence, racism. You sighed, wondering why he didn’t say anything. Then again, he wasn’t the type of man to burden others with his thoughts. 

You sauntered into the gym, taking off your pajama shirt as you did so. You wore no bra underneath so you were bare to the heated room. Your eyes were trained on Terry beside you, soaking through his tank top with sweat. The tattoos on his forearm moved with him, the star and moon on his arm curling.

You stopped beside him, taking off your sleep shorts and panties in one fell swoop. You grabbed your own set of weights and went through a series of light reps, stretching out your limbs and loosening up your body. 

Terry looked over at you and then faced forward. He did a double take, nearly dropping the weights in his hands. He caught them at the last minute, placing them down on the dumbbell rack. 

“What you doing?” He asked, a smirk curving his face. He took out one of his earbuds.

“Working out, what does it look like?” You asked. You didn’t look directly at him, opting to look at him in the mirror. That was easier. Easier to admire his face without having to look at his eyes dead on. Sometimes it seemed like he looked right down to your soul. 

He licked his lips, siding up to you. He was huffing with exertion, reaching up to grab your shoulder. You sidestepped him, tsking at him. “You didn’t finish your workout,” you said.

“You gon’ do me like that?” His voice. Good god. He pitched it even lower, sounding put out and superior at the same time. 

“Finish your workout. Go on,” you said. You switched up your stretches, adding in lunges and stretching your thighs. 

Terry admired what you were doing, the jiggle in your ass, and the sway of your breasts as you moved. He looked at you in the mirror and you smiled at him. He nodded and then yanked off his tank top. 

You faltered in your own routine. His body was insanely ripped. Like a lifelike painting. Like an artist painted each and every ab. You admired the way his body moved. Effortless. Easy. His eyes were trained on you as he took off his shorts and compression shorts, letting his dick spring free.

He was already semi-hard, long and thick, as the tip slapped against his inner thigh. He pulled his other earbud out, tapping away on his phone to put on a playlist you both enjoyed to pump through the house’s speakers. “Coming Undone” by Korn began to blast through the speakers and the dirty beat had you feeling excited. The vibrations in the floor tingled your bare feet. He moved back to retrieve his weights, standing beside you as you both got into your workout routines. 

No words were spoken as you looked at each other, eyes dragging along each other’s bodies like a physical caress. His wide chest glistened with sweat as he pumped his arms, curling those biceps that you just wanted to sink your teeth into.

Your plan was to take his mind off of things, coax him into relaxing, and then talk about what was in his head. But you were making your own self bothered, staring at his lean hips, thick thighs, and strong legs. 

Your pussy throbbed, as you stared at his dick moving with his effort. Wet slick starting to pool between your legs. 

You grunted as you lifted shaking arms to put away your weights. You weren’t as skilled as him and that was okay. You would work yourself up to his level. Sculpting your own body the way you wanted. 

You free-stretched, lifting your arms above your head and pushing out your chest. The room seemed to get hotter. You felt every inch of Terry’s gaze on your body. Everywhere his eyes roamed, your body tingled. You were connected to him on a deep, spiritual level. 

Terry put away his own weights, the metal clanging above the music playing. The song continued to blast, making your body sway to the chorus. Terry stalked forward, licking his lips, eyes looking his fill as he approached you.

“Time for pushups,” you said. 

Terry smirked, encroaching into your personal space. He leaned down to kiss you and you turned your head at the last minute, making him kiss your cheek. He chuckled. “You think you’re cute,” he said against your skin.

You shrugged, a big smile on your face. “Just a little,” you said. You pinched your fingers to show him how much. He laughed, sinking down to his knees. He got into position, facing the mirrors. You climbed onto his back. He tested a few push ups before flicking his eyes towards yours in the mirror.

Wordlessly, he began. He lifted you with ease, not a grunt on him as he kept going, kept pumping his arms. Sweat dripped from his face. You felt his muscles bunch between your legs. You giggled, excited from the high of being lifted on his powerful back. 

“Good Daddy,” you purred on top of him.

Terry stopped, staring at you. You smirked and leaned forward, redistributing your weight so you didn’t hurt him. You licked the shell of his ear and he shivered from head to foot. “Such a good Daddy to me,” you moaned in his ear. 

Terry shook his head, starting up the push ups again. You rubbed his back, caressing him, scratching your nails against his skin. He groaned, body shuddering again. You continued to tease him, running your nails anywhere you could touch. 

“Fuck,” he moaned. 

“I can’t wait until you’re all done, sweaty, feeding me that long dick of yours,” you purred in his ear. 

Terry stopped again, arms extended. He smirked at you. God, he was fucking beautiful. Absolutely gorgeous. He literally took your breath away whenever you saw him. A sigh carried off in the wind. 

Music thumped as you looked at each other. Your thoughts were probably broadcast all over your face. You took a quick peek at yourself. You were perched on top of him like a lazy, feline goddess. Brown skin gleaming, eyes low, bottom lip between your teeth. You looked so pretty like this. Felt pretty. Felt amazing because he made you feel like you were flying every time you were with him. 

You moaned, thinking of him. Of how wonderful he truly was to you. An entire gift. You rubbed yourself on his back, finding that little bit of friction to keep you going. “Oh shit,” you moaned, head falling forward onto his shoulder. You moaned, getting yourself there.

“Hol’ up.” Terry’s rough voice cut through your fog. He lowered himself to the ground and he rolled to the side to let you off. You climbed off of him and then faced him on the floor. 

“You think you get to play with what’s mine?” He asked. He got to his feet, pulling you up with him. 

Your thighs tingled as he stepped into your personal space. He grabbed your hand and pulled you onto the weight bench. He straddled it, laying down. You hopped onto him, and he groaned. He must feel the slick between your thighs rubbing against his stomach. His muscles flexed beneath you and you closed your eyes, pussy fluttering. 

“Mine,” he growled, winking at you. He pulled you to slide over onto his face, lips sliding through your folds.

“Oh, god,” you sighed and moaned. 

Terry hummed, licking his lips. You felt the entire motion, pussy growing wetter from the action. He began to lick you in earnest, moaning between your legs. You gripped onto the weight bar above the bench, held on for dear life, as your legs shook. 

The song switched to “Closer” by Nine Inch Nails. Terry followed the erratic beat, flicking his tongue across your clit rapidly, making you shake and twitch on top of him. “Oh, fuck, Terry, shit, oh fuck,” you moaned. 

Terry chuckled, gripping onto your ass and spreading your ass cheeks. Terry wrapped his lips around your clit and suckled. You screamed, your toes pushing you off of him from the ground. Terry held on, using his tongue to tease around your entrance. 

Stars were blinking on and off in your mind’s eye, lower belly burning with desire. “Terry,” you begged, voice weak and pathetic. Oh fuck, you were about to cum. You began to sink onto his face, putting all your weight down when Terry moved his lips. He pulled away from your entrance right before you were about to cum. 

You groaned, leaning back to look at his eyes. There was something deeply erotic about those mesmerizing eyes staring up at you from between your thick thighs. He winked at you and then pushed you off of him. 

He sat up so that you straddled his lap. “Ready to stop playing games?” He asked, wiping your essence off.

“Who’s playing?” You asked. You blinked at him innocently, wrapping your arms around his neck. His dick was nestled in your ass, growing harder as you rubbed yourself against him. He hissed, hands flying to your waist to steady you. 

You kept moving, kept rocking and rolling your hips so that your wet pussy rubbed against him. “Baby, the games have just begun,” you leaned down and whispered in his ear.

He pulled back, his eyes crinkling as a smile split his face. It was a predatory grin, full of evil intent as he kissed you. You sighed, nibbling on his big, juicy lips. He suckled your bottom lip into his mouth, and you moaned, canting your hips forward once again. 

“Another Way” by Sleep Theory came on, turning up the heat. The heavy beginning reverberated under your skin as you scratched at his nape. You moaned into each other’s mouths. Terry’s hands on your waist were no longer hindering you from rubbing on him, grinding on him. 

Terry cursed, his hand slipping between your legs. “Good fuckin’ girl. Getting wet for Daddy,” he said in awe. 

“You make me so fuckin’ horny, I can’t stand it,” you confessed, capturing his lips with yours again. It was all true. The way his body felt beneath your questing fingers. Tracing every vein, every muscle, every inch of skin. It all served to turn you on more, drive your desire higher, reaching new heights. 

“Let me train that throat,” he said, more of a command than a question. You smirked as you slid off of him, already planning your method of attack. 

Terry scooted forward on the weight bench, and you gripped his thighs for stability as you lowered to the floor. You smiled, grabbed his dick, and rubbed the bead of pre-cum across your lips. 

Terry moaned, licked his lips, tilting his head at you. Your pussy throbbed at the way it made his eyes narrow, made him look cocky. You aimed to change that. You opened your mouth, sucking him down and he groaned as you took him down to the base. 

It was hard, no lie, considering his size. But fuck, you were greedy. You breathed through your nose and then slowly dragged him out of your mouth, making sure to lick every inch of him. 

“Fuuuuck,” he moaned, throwing his head back. He grabbed the sides of your face, stroking his thumb across your cheek, before moving your head faster, making you take more of him. 

Silly boy. You resisted, pushing against his hold. He grunted before he let up and that’s when you took over. Giving him the sloppiest, messiest, nastiest head you’d ever given him. “Shit, let me get out yo way,” he breathed, his moans competing with the sounds of the song playing in the background. 

You stroked him as you sucked him off, his tip leaking cum. The salty taste of him made you moan, made your thighs tingle. You moved your fingers between your folds, rubbing your own clit as you sucked him off. 

Curses flew from his mouth, eyes squeezed shut. Fuck, he was perfect. Absolutely perfect. His mouth dropped open, jaw going slack. He groaned, eyes crinkling with the effort. You took him deep, near gagging, bobbing up and down on his length like you were trying to suck the soul out of his body.

“Shit, slow down,” he said, voice growing needy. 

You didn’t listen. You kept going, kept going faster, shaking with the effort. Rocking back and forth on your fingers and bringing your own pleasure back to the front. Back from where he teased. 

“Damn girl,” he moaned. His jaw flexed with restrained effort. You moaned around his dick, humming, flicking your tongue across his sensitive tip. You suckled him there, drooling. Your saliva and his pre-cum dribbled down your chin. You locked eyes with him, spat on his dick, and then sucked him back down. Returning to the pace you set, sucking with extra pressure.

“Fuck, fuck,” he panted, his hips pushing up. He tapped your cheek softly and you reluctantly pulled off of him. His huffing breaths were better than the music. His eyes turned deep blue like a lagoon, drunk with pleasure. 

His eyes narrowed, staring at you like you stole something. You licked your lips, licking up any extra taste of him. He watched you do it, before he grabbed your shoulders and pulled you to him.

He kissed you, lips soft and sweet. You opened your mouth to him, to his exploring tongue, to the bite of his teeth. You moaned, hands trapped by your side. 

He stood up abruptly, pulling you over to the mirrors. He wrapped your legs around his waist, pushing your back against the cold, smooth glass.

You yelped, trying to get away from it. Your skin was too heated for it, too sensitive. “Terry, please,” you moaned.

“My turn, baby girl,” he said. He grinned, sliding into you with no preamble. Your mouth dropped open with a scream as he split you open. 

“T-T-,”

“Shh, shh, Daddy’s got you,” he cooed as he moved in you like he was punishing you. He was relentless, moving like a jackhammer. Like a well-oiled machine. He held your legs spread open, taking his dick.

“T-too, mu-uch,” you cried, pussy flooding his dick. He was pounding into you so good, your vision turned black. Your ears began to ring. Your back tapped the mirror, shaking it, with the force of his deep thrusts. 

“Too much?” He asked.

You held onto his shoulder, nails digging. “Too good, too good,” you moaned. 

He moaned with you, synching up your sounds and bringing a new level of intimacy to the moment. He stared in your eyes, nose to nose, heavy breaths fanning across each other’s faces. The wet, dripping mess you made was leaking down your ass and leg, growing wetter. 

“How ‘bout now?” He asked. He increased his thrusts, angling you so that he was fucking up into you. The tip of his dick rubbed against a deep spot inside of you, rubbing up into you and making you see stars again. His dick was huge, splitting you, and god it felt so fucking amazing. 

“Meanie,” you whimpered, grip growing weak. 

Terry kissed along your jaw, your cheeks. “So fuckin’ pretty. So fuckin’ good for me. Such a good girl, creamin’ on this dick. You always know just what Daddy needs, huh?” He asked. 

“Daddy, please! Please let me cum, please, please,” You begged. 

His dick throbbed and you crumpled, falling into that abyss of pleasure. Where it filled up your entire being. All of the teasing and edging just sent you overboard, losing yourself and finding yourself in an endless loop of give and take. You twitched and jerked, moaning loud in his ear. 

“Fuck. Grip that shit. Show Daddy you love it,” he said. “Show me. Show me.” His thrusts grew frenzied, hips out of alignment, as he lifted one of your legs higher on his hip and then groaned as he climaxed.

His hot, pulsing seed filled you to the brim. “Ahh, that’s my good girl. Take all of me,” he cooed. 

“Oh fuck,” you moaned. 

You lazily found each other’s lips. He stilled against you, deeply lodged inside like he lived there. Like he didn’t want to leave. Hell, you didn’t want him to leave either. If you could live like this, you would. Never going a moment without him buried in your pussy where he belonged. Where he was always meant to be. 

Terry kissed your temple and slowly, so slowly, pulled out of you. He looked down as he watched himself exit, a thick load of cum spilling out behind him. Your pussy contracted, trying to push him all out. You shivered as the cum slipped down, leaking onto the ground. 

“Ruined,” he said, smug smile to accompany his words. You looked up at him and kissed him, needing his lips on yours just one more time. 

“Thank you, Daddy,” you whispered against his lips. He smiled against yours, leaning back just far enough to look you in the eye.

“I think I have a few ideas for the sauna,” he said.

“The sauna?” You asked. He fucked you so well, you didn’t think you could walk straight at the moment. However, there were plenty of areas to sit in the sauna. Light bulbs flashed in your mind, thinking of what dirty schemes he was up to.

Terry grinned, turning away from the mirrors and heading towards the sauna. You giggled and talked to him the entire way there.

The end.

There will be more, but seriously ya'll. Stawp distracting me! The Secret Terry Richmond Files

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

@browngirldominion @iv0rysoap @thecookiebratz @harmshake @00aijia00

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

@avoidthings @lovedlover @blackgurlnhermoods @flydotty @sageispunk

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

@slutsareteacherstoo @blackerthings @dreamsinfocus @brattyfics @mermaidchansons

@monaeesstuff @henneseyhoe @blowmymbackout @charismablu

@misskiki90 @miyuhpapayuh @satoruya @starcrossedxwriter @yamst3rdamctrl

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

@thegreatlibraryofalex @miyuhpapayuh @amyhennessyhouse @hihellogoodbyebruh

[fidelixcorde]

It took Neville too proper tries before he managed to finally Disarm her, and while it wasn't a perfect attempt, her wand at least left her hand, and he was so happy that he did it that Taylor could only smile back. Harry's added praise made Neville draw himself up taller, and Taylor gave Harry a slight wink back before retrieving her wand.

The rest of the lesson went fairly well. In between Neville's fluctuating confidence, Taylor kept an eye out on everyone, and so she saw Harry and Cho talking, except... She tilted her head, realizing that they were acting as if they were close than originally written. There was no awkward shy flirtation; if anything, they looked like they were flirting comfortably well.

Huh... Taylor wondered what happened between them for the blush on their cheeks to clearly mean something more than budding feelings.

When the lesson came to an end, Taylor obediently handed the Map over to Harry when asked, and she was once again in one of the first groups to leave the Room of Requirement, heading back to Gryffindor Tower without any trouble. Climbing into bed, she lay there staring up at the canopy as she tried to think things through.

(*)

The weeks slowly passed. Thanks to the Quidditch practices happening, the DA meetings looked random, so no pattern could be recognized, and Taylor was greatly enjoying herself, watching how everyone was improving. Colin Creevey became exceptional at the Impediment Jinx, Parvati mastered the Reductor Curse so well that she reduced one of the tables into fine dust, and Ginny excelled with the Bat Bogey Hex, which was expected.

Hermione also came up with the coins, as expected. She brought them to the fourth meeting, explaining how they worked with the numeral codes on the edge changing to a date to give the next meeting, as well as how they turned hot when any DA member used it, and how it turned cold as an SOS signal.

"You can do a Protean Charm?" Terry Boot asked, awed. "That's N.E.W.T level magic, that is! With brains like yours, why aren't you in Ravenclaw?"

"Well, the Sorting Hat very nearly placed me in Ravenclaw," Hermione explained, her cheeks darkening with some amount of embarrassed pride. "But it decided to put me in Gryffindor instead."

The only other exciting thing that was happening now, beyond Umbridge sniffing around for troublemakers, was the upcoming Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Slytherin. McGonagall even decided not to assign any homework for a couple of weeks so that Harry and Ron could work their hardest at their practices in order to win, because the woman got used to seeing the Quidditch Cup in her office, and she didn't want to give it back to Snape.

Taylor did take notice of one thing: with Draco being on the right side, while there were still hostility between the teams, there was no need for Draco to write a whole song to mock Ron for being the weakest player on the team. The actual game was exciting in a pure, not totally malicious way, and Harry was able to win them a victory with only inches to spare.

It was the Tuesday following that Hagrid had returned. Of course, Taylor knew Hagrid had come back the night of the match, but it was Tuesday that they were finally having their Care of Magical Creatures lesson and so she followed her fellow Gryffindors and the Slytherins down to Hagrid's hut, where he cheerfully greeted them and brought them into the edge of the Forbidden Forest, where he dropped a massive hunk of meat and gave a warbling cry to summon the thestrals, which not everyone could see.

Judging how Harry's eyes zeroed in one one of them as soon as they appeared, Taylor knew he had seen Cassius die. Just one more thing to feel guilty for.

"Now," Hagrid called as soon as some of the herd came closer, "pet yer hands up if ye can see 'em!"

Neville, Theo, and Harry raised their hands. Taylor raised hers as well.

"What exactly are we supposed to be seeing?" Pansy asked warily, almost hiding behind Draco, who's own eyes were following the swishing tail of one of the thestrals, and Taylor blinked in surprise. He hadn't raised his hand, however, and it made her wonder why.

"Thestrals," Hagrid said, and Hermione inhaled with recognition. "Hogwarts has a whole herd of 'em."

Parvati gasped. "But they're really, really unlucky!" she declared, clinging to Lavender's hand in distress. “They’re supposed to bring all sorts of horrible misfortune on people who see them. Professor Trelawney told me once —”

"They're not unlucky." Taylor spoke without thinking, and heads swiveled to look at her. The one she named Mulaney last year came closer to her, and she reached to gently pat his beak, earning a smile from Hagrid. "They're just creatures, it's not their fault that they seem a little unnerving. The only reason some people consider them an omen of bad luck is because you can only see thestrals if you've seen someone die."

When Hermione noted Taylor as also being a valid option to lead, Harry was grateful to her. He doubted the quiet brunette wanted the part, but it did take another layer of pressure off of him to have it pointed out how many capable people were actually on their side.

He also spotted Luna wave at Taylor with the surety of real friendship, even getting a small wave back, and that warmed him further to the Gryffindor girl. Taylor might not make herself stand out, but she had the right kinds of friends.

Maybe it was because he was feeling distinctly aware of her, but Harry's eyes went to her once more when Ginny proposed making the group name a snub at Umbridge. Taylor wasn't overly-expressive, but the furrow to her brow was unmistakable.

She didn't like Dumbledore. Harry didn't know how he interpreted that correctly, or why it could be the case, but he knew that he was right. Interesting.

The first moment he actually felt like a leader was putting down Zacharias' snide attitude. When Harry flatly informed the snobby Hufflepuff that Expelliarmus had saved his life dueling Voldemort the year before, you could have heard a pin drop in the brief quiet after. Their six Slytherin companions had all stilled, and Harry knew that they were hyper-aware of his story--not for his survival, or Voldemort's return, but for the death he'd been forced to witness.

It was still shocking to Harry that Cassius' death had been so powerful. But they had come to him, without malice, asking him the truth about how their Housemate died. Draco had apologized to him for four years of rivalry, and when Harry had conceded and described trying and failing to save Cassius, Pansy had hugged him.

They got into it properly, pairing up to practice, and Harry felt a weird sense of accomplishment as the room filled with cries of the Disarming Charm, and wands began flying in all directions. Harry circled the room, observing, pausing to make note when he could advise on how to improve a cast.

He heard Taylor guiding Neville, and when the other boy tried again, Taylor's wand jerked in an attempt to leave her hand. She encouraged him to go again, and this time, it broke her grip, though it certainly did not fly to Neville. Still, he was beaming. "I did it! I did it, I've never Disarmed anyone before!"

"Good, Neville!" Harry praised him, giving Taylor a quick grin and a wink. "Keep it up!"

Ginny was teamed with Michael; she was doing very well, whereas Michael was either very bad or unwilling to jinx her. Ernie was flourishing his wand unnecessarily, giving his partner time to get in under his guard; the Creevey brothers were enthusiastic but erratic and mainly responsible for all the books leaping off the shelves around them. Luna was similarly patchy, occasionally sending Justin's wand spinning out of his hand, at other times merely causing his hair to stand on end.

“Okay, stop!” Harry shouted. “Stop!” I need a whistle, he thought, and immediately spotted one lying on top of the nearest row of books. He caught it up and blew hard. Everyone lowered their wands. “That wasn’t bad,” he said, “but there’s definite room for improvement.” Zacharias glared at him. “Let’s try again....”

He moved off around the room again, stopping here and there to make suggestions. Slowly the general performance improved. When he reached Cho, she waved her wand just a touch too hard. "Expelliarmious! I mean, Expellimellius! I—oh, sorry, Marietta!”

Her curly-haired friend’s sleeve had caught fire; Marietta extinguished it with her own wand and glared at Harry as though it was his fault. “I was doing all right before then,” Cho told Harry wryly, "you coming over made me nervous."

“I was watching from around the room, you're doing fine,” Harry promised. "We both know you're skilled, Cho, keep it up." She beamed at him, while Marietta looked at them rather sourly and turned away.

“Don’t mind her,” Cho sighed. “She doesn’t really want to be here but I made her come with me. Her parents have forbidden her to do anything that might upset Umbridge—her mum works for the Ministry.”

“Don't yours as well?” Harry asked.

“Yes....and, well, they’ve forbidden me to get on the wrong side of Umbridge too,” Cho admitted, then drew herself up proudly. “But if they think I’m not going to fight You-Know-Who after what you went through, they don't know me. Ced agrees," she added, softer, and grinned when Harry couldn't help blushing. "I wrote him last weekend--I was careful in my wording, don't worry, but I said you're being your usual self, and he said he's proud of us."

"Still going strong, then?" he asked, and she smirked.

"Yes, and maybe we can all meet up again, someday when things are better," she replied, nudging him as Harry blushed deeper. "Go on, leader-man, Granger is waving for you."

"Just saw the time," Hermione explained, as Harry turned to her. Harry

looked down at his watch and received a shock—it was already ten past nine, which meant they needed to get back to their common rooms immediately or risk being caught and punished by Filch for being out-of-bounds. He blew his whistle; everybody stopped, and the last couple of wands clattered to the floor.

“Well, that was pretty good,” Harry said, “but we’ve overrun, we’d better leave it here. Same place.... Let’s say next Wednesday night, I know Quidditch season's starting. We can decide on additional meetings then.... Come on, we’d better get going.... Taylor, hand me that parchment on my jacket? I need to check the Map."

[ariel-seagull-wings]

@giuliettaluce

STAGE HISTORY

(A guide through the stage history of Romeo and Juliet from Shakespeare's time to the present day)

(Romeo and Juliet (1973), directed by Terry Hands. Romeo (Timothy Dalton) cradling Juliet's (Estelle Kohler) body, believing her to be dead)

THE PLAY

As the title page of the play's 1597 edition tells us, Romeo and Juliet was a popular success in its day: '...it hath been often (with great applause) plaid publiquely'. Shakespeare designed it to be played in daylight on the simple thrust stage of an Elizabethan playhouse, where the rear balcony provided Juliet's bedroom window and a trapdoor in the stage was her tomb. No scenery and few props allowed the action to move swiftly and the audience to focus on the language. Music and costume added to the effect.

Shakespeare wrote his plays with the strengths and talents of his fellow players in mind. His gifted boy players took the female roles and Shakespeare must have had great faith in the youth playing the important role of Juliet. We know that Peter, the Nurse's comic servant, was played by the popular comedian Will Kemp and the male tragic lead must have been played by the expert wielder of both sword and poetry, Richard Burbage.

AFTER THE RESTORATION

The play had a brief run on the London stage immediately after the restoration of Charles II when, in 1662, the actor-manager William Davenant presented it at Lincoln's Inn Fields. Much greater success was won by Thomas Otway's adaptation in 1679, which was the only version of the play to be seen on stage for about 70 years. Otway's The History and Fall of Caius Marius set the action in ancient Rome, renaming the lovers Marius and Lavinia. It responded to the crisis over the English throne by placing greater emphasis on the political issues of state within the play.

In 1744, Theophilus Cibber played Romeo in a version closer to the original that retained some of Otway's additions, such as Juliet waking before Romeo dies. Bits of Shakespeare's The Two Gentlemen of Verona were also thrown in for good measure. This production boasted the unusual casting of father and daughter in the title roles – he in his early forties, she just 14. Judging by contemporary comments, this did not go down too well with audiences.

GARRICK'S SUCCESS

David Garrick's Romeo and Juliet, staged at Drury Lane in 1748, was a much greater success. Garrick removed many of Shakespeare's bawdy jokes and sexual references, reducing Mercutio's role and simplifying that of Juliet. Responding to his audience's taste, he kept the tear-jerking sentimentality of the lovers' final embraces. This version of the play became the standard text for the stage over the next century.

When Spranger Barry, Garrick's Romeo, decamped with his Juliet (Susannah Cibber) to a rival production in Covent Garden, Garrick himself took on the role at Drury Lane. Barry was more praised as an ardent lover while Garrick was felt to be better suited to the tragic aspects of the role. Audiences could have their cake and eat it too by enjoying Barry at Covent Garden for the first half of the play before heading off to Drury Lane to see Garrick die tragically in the second. As one contemporary female theatregoer put it: "Had I been Garrick's Juliet – so impassioned was he, I should have expected that he would have come up to me on the balcony; but had I been Juliet to Barry's Romeo – so tender and seductive was he, I should certainly have jumped down to him!" The two productions remained regularly in the repertoire of both theatres (albeit with changes of cast) until the turn of the century.

INTO THE 19TH CENTURY

Throughout the 19th century, the role of Juliet was seen as an important marker of a young actress's claim to fame. Eliza O'Neill, Helen Faucit and Fanny Kemble all won praise in the part. In the mid-19th century, actresses were also allowed a crack at the male lead, showing how Romeo was seen to lack masculinity. The most successful of these female Romeos was the American Charlotte Cushman, who, partnered by her sister, Susan, was a huge hit.

In 1882, Henry Irving and Ellen Terry took the lead roles in a celebrated production at the Lyceum, which delighted the audience with its lavishly Italianate settings, processions and crowd scenes. The most jaw-dropping sequence saw Romeo slew Paris in the churchyard before carrying his corpse down a flight of stairs where, by virtue of a seemingly miraculous scene change, he was revealed in the gloom of a Gothic crypt. At the end of the century, the management of the Lyceum was taken over by Johnston Forbes-Robertson, who was highly praised as a graceful and romantic Romeo in his own production of the play.

THE 1900S

The play remained very popular throughout the twentieth century. In the first decade of the century, William Poel led the Elizabethan Stage Society in its traditional staging of several of Shakespeare's plays, with a simple thrust stage for fast-paced fluid action. The pace and panache of John Gielgud's Romeo and Juliet in 1935 at the New Theatre made the critics take note and admire the simple Italian Renaissance setting and the excellence of the performances. Peggy Aschroft played Juliet and Edith Evans the Nurse - both to great acclaim - but it was the alternating of the roles of Romeo and Mercutio by Gielgud and Laurence Olivier that really fascinated the audience. Recalling the rivalry between Barry and Garrick, Gielgud gained more praise for his poetic Romeo, while Olivier's Mercutio was admired for his virile energy.

In an influential production at the Old Vic in 1960, Franco Zeffirelli used his Italian background to create a breathtakingly real atmosphere of Italian street life. The curtain rose to reveal the housewives of Verona shaking their newly-washed sheets out from their balconies over young people chatting, flirting and fighting. Their naturalistic style was wholly new to London audiences. The lovers were played by the young actors John Stride and Judi Dench.

Source: https://www.rsc.org.uk/romeo-and-juliet/about-the-play/stage-history

[the-big-dissapoint]

Hey guys Diss here with more art, specifically Kirby ocs/fankids. (Actually made this last year, but forgot to post it to tumblr… (;v;)b) I know that this might be considered “cringe”, but damnit I worked really hard on their designs and I’m still pretty proud of how they turned out…

Now on to the fankids themselves, first off is Lynne. He’s the son of Kirby and Ribbon, also a Star Warrior/Fairy hybrid. He’s not the biggest fan of adventuring, and very shy. Overall a introvert, who tends to prefer to talk things out then fighting. Lynne can only use the copy abilities from Kirby 64, also he has something of a rivalry with Nami. (So uh due to some headcanons, Lynne was born a bit differently then most. For starters Star Warriors/Puffballs have two methods of reproduction, the normal way and with an act of pure love. Lynne was born when Kirby did the latter when he kissed Ribbon.)

Next up is the other Kirby and Ribbon fankid, Silk. Lynne’s older sister, and pure Star Warrior. (Silk was born from a wish that Ribbon and Kirby made to Nova, so she’s a bit different than Lynne. Nova used both Kirby and Ribbon’s dna, but made a couple of changes.) She’s pretty protective of her younger brother, and wants to become a great warrior someday. Currently she trains under Meta Knight, her copy abilities are good but nowhere near as versatile as her father’s.

Next is the son and daughter of Marx and Gryll. Fry and Terri, respectively. Fry is more of a mime than a jester, preferring to let his actions speak for him. Terri takes more after Marx, and is a witch in training. Both of them have quite the magical capabilities, but Fry prefers not to rely on his powers too much.

Next we have the daughter of King Dedede and Queen Ripple/Ripplestar Queen, Nami. She’s Lynne’s self proclaimed rival, and enjoys challenging him. Truth be told she sees her rivalry with Lynne as more of a friendly competition than a real rivalry… Nami can be pretty impulsive, but tends to stick with her gut when things get dangerous. She’s actually far more introverted than she appears, preferring to stick with her small group of friends than be around large crowds or talk to new people. She’s a hybrid, just like Lynne. However it’s far different than his, Nami appears to be far more similar to a harpy, than a Penguin/Fairy hybrid…

Next is the mysterious heir of 02, Nil. He was created after 02’s was forcefully torn from possessing Queen Ripple/Ripplestar Queen by Kirby and Ribbon. Nil was created to be 02’s potential heir and ruler of Dark Matter in case he was destroyed for good. He yearns for his “father’s” praise, and wants to show 02 that he is more than just a simple backup plan…. Nil is currently in charge of observing other worlds and planets, to see if they’re compatible for the Dark Matter species to inhabit as a true “home world”. During one of these journeys, he recently met his “half-sister” Nami and her friends. Hybrid as well, although he sees himself as more Dark Matter than fairy…

Next is Sol Dee, son of Bandana Dee and a Burning Leo. He looks up to his dad, and sees him as a personal hero. Like his dad, Sol trains regularly to hone his skills properly. He’s also part of Nami’s friend group, and loves to hang out with Lynne and Silk. Also he’s a hybrid like Lynne, Nami, and Nil, specifically that of a Waddle Dee/Burning Leo.

Next up is the current princess of Patchland, Felt. Daughter of Gooey and Prince Fluff, she’s a hybrid as well as the others. Far more laidback like her dad Gooey, and enjoys spending her time exploring and making new friends. Felt is part of Nami’s group of friends, and spends most of her time going to and from Dreamland on adventures. Despite being born and raised in Patchland, she enjoys Dreamland just as much and considers it her “second home”.

Lastly we have the daughter of Dark Meta Knight and Parallel Susie, Cerise. Great at swordsmanship like her father, she practices with sword fighting daily. Cerise is quite mature, and behaves rather nobly despite her upbringing. In contrast to her father, she prefers not to use any dirty tactics when fighting. Like her mother, Cerise is a natural at persuading others to her side. Also a hybrid like the others, but seems to take more after Susie’s side of the family…

Anyway, hope you enjoy the art. And have a great day. (^v^)b

[dreamylyfe-x]

11x04: NIMBY Reactions

Oh my God, that’s the good stuff right there. I’ve been hanging on for the middle of the season, where I have felt pretty certain the tone -- with Gallavich particularly -- might shift and I was NOT disappointed. 

So first thing’s first: though Mickey had barely anything to do with the A Plot (Milkoviches Next Door) I still thought this episode was the best  Mickey-being-Mickey-as-I-know-and-love-him  episode we’ve had yet. (Though fair warning, I thought 11x03 had some quality classic Mickey in it -- just mostly the scenes without Ian.) 

Before we get started on Mickey, though, this is the second episode in a row where I’ve enjoyed the Frank plot? Granted, it was LARGELY Liam that I enjoyed, but I was still watching the Frank plot and that is a major shift from season 10, where I barely bothered. 

But yeah. Ok. Mickey. This episode was such a great Mickey episode from start to finish. One of the things I love about Shameless is the whole thing where normal for kids living in desperate conditions, while very different from most people’s normal, is still normal for THEM. And I really enjoyed Mickey watching the Milkoviches move in while giving the Gallaghers key intel on exactly what they were seeing. And kinda understanding how messed up some of it was in real time. That’s a real experience people have -- being mid-story and suddenly thinking “Yeah. This is way more fucked up than I realized.”  

I also enjoyed the several moments in the episode where Mickey overtly acknowledged that his family is insane, he just doesn’t like the Gallaghers looking down on him. Which: valid. 

Speaking of -- finally we find out the state of the Mickey-Terry relationship. Which is: there isn’t one. Another thing I loved is that Mickey shares the desire to see his family move on, but he’s not going to bother engaging with it. He’s going to work on getting him and Ian out of there, and pay hardly any attention to his family. Love that for him. 

I also love love LOVE that, now that he has a bead on something to do for money that doesn’t fill him with dread, Mickey is taking the same attitude he had when Ian was working and he wasn’t -- which is that he’s going to take care of things. As someone who was baffled at Mickey’s inaction and willingness to let Ian do all the work in the first few episodes, I really loved this. Because it’s consistent and it indicates that his world view just kinda like... Someone has to be taking care of the money part, and that might shift back and forth between him and Ian, but the result of the effort is going to be shared between them. I understand where Ian was coming from -- especially when Mickey kept returning to criminal enterprise -- but it’s nice to see a little more of how Mickey views things. 

Also, I know this is very well observed, so I’m retreading well-worn ground, but the scene with the cereal. Gah. I love it. Ian regressing -- I know they gave us the shot of the bottle of Jamison, but I felt like they were getting their point across with the cereal and the cartoons. And Ian not answering or responding to Mickey right away was extremely evocative of Ian’s history of depressive episodes. I loved how forthright Ian was about how awful the prospect of finding another job was, because it’s covertly agreeing with everything Mickey was saying in the first few episodes, too. 

There are so many little things I like about this scene. Mickey coming down the front stairs instead of the back, like he intuitively knows where Ian is at. Ian watching Harley Quinn cartoons, as both an in-joke AND as a believable cartoon choice. Mickey picking up the bottle, checking it’s weight and then just... moving it a little to the side. Mickey putting himself between Ian the TV. Mickey already having a plan for Ian. Just so much good stuff in there. 

Also, let’s talk about Ian for a minute here. One reason I hesitate to call anything OOC with these two is that the book generally isn’t closed. I really didn’t get the “I’m on my honeymoon” stuff, but after this episode, it folds in a lot better with what is going on with these two. Another thing that folds in better is Ian’s mounting frustration -- which is VERY Ian. He starts out with this forced buoyancy -- we’re going to get out own place, you are going to get a legal job so you can stay out of prison, I am going to make this warehouse gig work, and even though I’m frustrated and losing patience, I’m still trying to talk things out, and touching your hand and trying to ground everything in the fact that we’re together and we love each other -- and then we see that get chipped away at. Ian’s paycheque reveals that he’s being scammed out of a living wage. Mickey takes the road less travelled and immediately brings in more money that he’s every going to be able to get through the jobs he can currently get as a parolee. Mickey isn’t gracious about this, and the tension ramps up and that four episodes later he’s just walking around with a well-established and throughly justified black cloud over his head. 

The Milkovich’s really arrive like they’ve bought a White Trash in a Bag collection from Target. They seem to even have brought mattresses expressly for the front yard. 

OMG, Mickey got a scene with Sandy (and Debbie). But honestly, my favourite beat is the look Franny gives Mickey after he says kids are idiots. I also love how Sandy joins Mickey in just not seeing a point in waging battle against their family.

Lip, this is a little thing, but you aren’t supposed to eat breakfast, brunch, lunch and dinner. Brunch ideally REDUCES the number of meals you eat. But the key brunch move is to order something you can’t/wouldn’t make at home. Do not pay $14 for eggs and toast. 

So. Ok. I have seen some people very annoyed that Ian is so focused on Mickey not going back to prison, but I can’t see what is wrong with this. He just flat out isn't wrong to worry about it. It would be devastating if that happened. Mickey and Ian are extremely fortunate that he’s out at all. It’s a truly bizarre turn of events and I do not fault Ian for having a lot of concern about anything happening to jeopardize Mickey’s freedom. I also think this is confirmation that Ian just flat out doesn’t want to be without Mickey. I think he’s depressed -- and therefore extremely pessimistic -- in this episode, but there is far more indication that Ian wants Mickey around than that he doesn’t, so of course he’d be extremely focused on this concern. Also Cam puts some tremor onto “get sent back to prison” that really grabs my heart and squeezes. 

Cam in the towel is just good news. Mickey’s adorable with the gun. This scene is cute. 

This is the episode where I gave up on side-eying the Gemma-is-Superior running joke and just accepted it as kinda funny. Something about third-party confirmation. I dunno.

I enjoy the fact that Debbie apparently doesn’t know Sandy lives with them? Also, that feels like an Ian move. Gets boyfriend, moves in with boyfriend. 

The fact that Mickey is low-key playing Ian to get him to join him in this MUCH more promising venture is my absolute favourite. Bless the director for that foreground Mickey shot. Bless Noel for that nuanced facial expression. Bless everyone involved in that moment. It is one of my favourite things ever. 

I love that Ian’s whole reason for these outfits is so that Mickey will LOOK dangerous and not have to defend himself, thus staying out of trouble. That’s deeply, deeply sweet. 

Another sign that something is even more wrong with Frank than usual when he fully forgets the entire trip to visit the Brotherhood. 

I didn’t love V vs. Debbie but I really did enjoy Kev aligns with Frank, and also has a scene with Mickey. And that they weren’t silo’ed off on their own. 

So the eventual reveal we get that the old lady loves having rough sex with Terry was not a surprise to me because a) Shameless, but b) because of Christian’s face. Christian’s facial expressions are among my favourite on the show right now. 

I love this gif set by @sickness-health-all-that-shit.  What can I say except “look! Ian is smiling!” 

Mickey should be a better liar, but you know. He isn’t. 

I do like that, in this moment, the things they both bring to the enterprise come together to create a new possibility. This is pretty much exactly what I HOPED was going to happen and I love to see it. 

I think I’m going to ignore the Tami storyline because it was gross (not bad, but ... gross.) Also @fiona-fififi already wrote something that is much more comprehensive... I get the frustration, but just no part of me thinks Ian would allow himself to go where Tami did in examining what happened to her. Not at this point in his life. Which is sad, but very much in line with how Ian handles himself. 

Um. Yeah. Carl. Glad you’re not fully participating, Carl. But this is untenable. 

Overall, I am all the way in on this storyline for Ian and Mickey -- and pretty into the idea of V getting involved with politics. I think we’re getting all the seeds of where this show is going to leave the characters. And I haven’t loved every moment, but I do feel like the overall show is working for me better than last season. 

That might be faint praise. But I really liked this one. Best yet. 

[terrence-silver]

Does terry help take care of his kids? i know financially he does but would he help beloved with a overtired baby or a fussy toddler or even a semi rebellious teen?

---

I don't know; why do I think Terry Silver would possibly raise his potential kids even more than his partner does, even though taking over quite so much isn't necessary because when you're loaded, your options for childrearing become endless. You could technically send your brats away to some boarding school and almost never see them if you so choose. Perish the thought of actually raising them yourself! He explicitly wants to do it, though. Needs to. Like, I imagine the man is so particular, such a perfectionist, control oriented and deliberate that he wants and absolutely desires his permanent input made and refuses to leave things up to chance, because there he has it; young minds. Fresh blood. And they're related to him. They are him. He's them. He has all the right to do this. He has the only right, actually. He wants to leave his personal mark behind. He wants to teach things only he feels only he can teach and teach it best because his teaching is the best by default. Leaving that up to someone else wont cut it. He wants to relay things only he can relay. Leave as much of himself behind on his children as he can, like a literal imprint to the point he'll be possessive of their upbringing and education and very determined to create a collective of mini-me's until he can see himself reflected in his children's eyes, mannerisms, visage, values, core beliefs, mentality, habits --- everything. He wants to be involved in the process of molding. Creation. He wants to be in their minds. In their souls.

That is the true definition of a legacy.

Terry acts, typically, like a mother would or should.

Heck. He is Mother.

He might even be envious of someone having center stage over him.

He wants it all. Ideally, he'd have it all too.

Of course, that's a feat all on its own because this is a very busy man whatever the era is and people...legitimately wonder how on earth he manages and it does miracles for his image. Man's a multitasking, overenergized mastermind genius! Might end up on the cover of some magazine with only the highest of praises like any villain with excellent publicity would. Carbon footprint? Oh, yeah, he might preach it, especially in later years, while also not adhering to it in his own life. Silver and Sons. Silver and Daughters. Silver and Children. You name it. Whatever the variety, it casts an incredibly favorable public perception on him and excuses a great many things he does because he's a Patriarch of an All-American clan (albeit of a very dynasty oriented, elitist clan), and he'd lie if he said he didn't covet that immensely, even though mere surface level pride isn't the only reason he does it. He does it because he wants to. It is a privilege that belongs to him. He's a residential Von Trapp with a brood of kids around him and he relishes in it from literally feeding a toddler and not blinking as he watches them chew with immaculate, unflinching curiosity to somehow landing himself with the moniker of the 'coolest dad in the world' because he might've taught his teen how to scam the stock market and hide it too. Quite literally the opposite of a stereotypically neglectful, rich father because Terry is the opposite of uninvolved when he sets his mind of things truly. Entirely possible to find him in a dojo training a collective of kids of all ages and if asked if he's holding class and if those are his students he might just correct that 'Yes. But they're also mine. Mine mine.'

Oh, but wait? There's like...six of them. And all his? As in his...actual biological children? Is that what he meant by that?

Yep.

He might confirm with a creeping, unsettling smile.

Terry might deeply enjoy the implication that he not only somehow found the time to be a multitalented, hyper-wealthy overachiever and spawn so many times (and the hint at physicality and virility that comes with that) but that he also has the time to personally train them, teach them, spoil them rotten, garner their devotion to him, have them entourage him around like a miniature army, indulge in the joys of the corporate world and run multiple business too. Man's the type to take a toddler to work at Dynatox, put them on his lap in front of a great, big conference table and allow them to scribble over documents and paperwork belonging to a rival he doesn't intend to do business with and plans on showing it through all the doodling his three year old created as a way to honor the breaking of their understanding. A subtle (and weirdly adorable) way of saying 'fuck you'. Of course people are part endeared, part scared for their lives and employment under their boss. Who could ever criticize him anyway? Is it even socially acceptable without seeming heartless? Not without major consequences and penalization. Not without retaliation. Maybe he wants to personally change a nappy while on the phone with Hong Kong, yelling at his overseas employees, chastising them for their incompetence. Maybe he wants to blame them when his child enters a crying fit while he orders them to dump those twenty cisterns into the Gobi desert and hurry the heck up because Terrence Jr. is upset by their nonsense delays and quite frankly, Terry's patience is running dangerously thin. He might even chortle into his own chin afterwards due to how badly he made his agent on the line stutter while he bribes the same kid away from their gloomy mood by literally whatever they'd like best in the world.

Which country on this great, big decorative spinning globe do they want to see environmentally tampered with? How about Nicaragua?

Who's to tell?

I find it immensely believable that he'd do all this and more. His raising methods are very questionable, but this man is definitely smotheringly overpresent.

[introvertguide]

Easy Rider (1969); AFI# 84

The current movie under review from the AFI top 100 is the counterculture road film, Easy Rider (1969). As a note for anybody looking for screen captures, this is also the title of a magazine with many scantily dressed women next to vehicles, so be specific with your google image search. The film combines the hippie lifestyle with the beatnik concept of being free from "the man." It spoke to a lot of Americans at the time who were fighting back against government restrictions on one hand and the freedom of Civil Rights on the other. The film ended up making almost 100x the budget and was one of the first super performing, low budget indie films. The film was written by Peter Fonda, Dennis Hopper, and Terry Southern. It was produced by Fonda and directed by Hopper. It is funny to think about now, but it was basically Peter Fonda's hippie son and some of his buddies getting together and making a movie about a road trip. Well done! Before we go any further, let's get the normal warning out of the way...

SPOILER WARNING!!! I AM GOING TO SPOIL THE MOVIE THAT DOESN'T REALLY HAVE A MAJOR PLOT!!! WHAT STORY THERE IS I HAVE SPOILED SO WATCH THE FILM FIRST IF YOU DON'T WANT ME TO RUIN IT FOR YOU!!! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!!!

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Wyatt (Peter Fonda) and Billy (Dennis Hopper) are freewheeling motorcyclists. After smuggling cocaine from Mexico to Los Angeles, they sell their haul and receive a large sum of money. With the cash stuffed into a plastic tube hidden inside the Stars & Stripes-painted fuel tank of Wyatt's California-style chopper, they ride eastward aiming to reach New Orleans, Louisiana, in time for the Mardi Gras festival. This all happens either in silence, in Spanish, or beneath the in-coming planes at an airport, so there really isn't any dialogue. It truly is exposition at the most basic level. What the director is basically communicating is "two guys got some money, here's how, now don't worry about it and enjoy the travel montage."

During their trip, Wyatt and Billy stop to repair a flat tire on Wyatt's bike at a farmstead in Arizona and have a meal with the farmer and his family. It is kind of interesting because Wyatt talks later about nobody being willing to help him, yet he is invited to use the barn and tools and then invited to have dinner with the whole family. Later, Wyatt picks up a hippie hitch-hiker, and he invites them to visit his commune, where they stay for the rest of the day. The notion of "free love" appears to be practiced, with two of the women, Lisa and Sarah, seemingly sharing the affections of the hitch-hiking commune member before turning their attention to Wyatt and Billy. The people at the commune seem to like Wyatt and want him to stay, but Billy doesn't seem to fit in and he is antsy to get back on the road. As the bikers leave, the hitch-hiker gives Wyatt some LSD for him to share with "the right people".

Further down the road, the two see a parade and playfully join the back. The pair are immediately arrested for "parading without a permit" and thrown in jail. There, they befriend lawyer George Hanson (Jack Nicholson), who has spent the night in jail after overindulging in alcohol. After the mention of having done work for the ACLU along with other conversation, George helps them get out of jail and decides to travel with Wyatt and Billy to New Orleans. As they camp that night, Wyatt and Billy introduce George to marijuana. As an alcoholic and a "square", George is reluctant to try it due to his fear of becoming "hooked" and it leading to worse drugs but he quickly relents. It is funny when Wyatt calls it "grass" and George doesn't know what that means. I don't know about other areas, but any 13-year-old where I live would most likely know what Wyatt was talking about.

Stopping to eat at a small-town Louisiana diner, the trio attract the attention of the locals. There is a booth packed with young girls next to a booth packed with what I can best describe as hicks. The girls in the restaurant think the trio are exciting, but the local men and a police officer make degrading comments and taunts. Wyatt, Billy, and George decide to leave without any fuss. They make camp outside town and talk about how their freedom scares a lot of people. In the middle of the night, a group of locals attack the sleeping trio, beating them with clubs. Billy screams and brandishes a knife, and the attackers leave. Wyatt and Billy suffer minor injuries, but George has been bludgeoned to death. Wyatt and Billy wrap George's body in his sleeping bag, gather his belongings, and vow to return the items to his family. This happens really fast and I wasn't really sure what had occurred or that George was dead. First time I saw this, I was looking at something else for 30 seconds and turned back to see Wyatt and Billy going through a wallet. I rewatched and the time between George going to sleep and the duo going through his wallet after death was about 37 seconds.

Wyatt and Billy continue to New Orleans and find a brothel that George had told them about. Taking prostitutes Karen (Karen Black) and Mary (Toni Basil) with them, Wyatt and Billy wander the parade-filled streets of the Mardi Gras celebration. They end up in a French Quarter cemetery, where all four ingest the LSD the hitch-hiker had given to Wyatt and experience a bad trip. I had to double check the name, but it is the same Toni Basil of "Oh Mickey, You're so fine, You're so fine you blow my mind, Hey Mickey!" fame.

The next morning, as they are overtaken on a two-lane country road by two local men in an older pickup truck, the passenger in the truck reaches for a shotgun, saying he will scare them. As they pass Billy, the passenger fires, and Billy has a lowside crash. The truck passes Wyatt who has stopped, and Wyatt rides back to Billy, finding him lying flat on the side of the road and covered in blood. Wyatt tells Billy he's going to get help and covers Billy's wound with his own leather jacket. Wyatt then rides down the road toward the pickup as it makes a U-turn.

Passing in the opposite direction, the passenger fires the shotgun again, this time through the driver's-side window. Wyatt's riderless motorcycle flies through the air and comes apart before landing and becoming engulfed in flames. A helicopter shot shows the carnage as the truck drives away and the credits roll.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

This movie is not what I would call my personal favorite, but many critics have praised it for the dialogue, visuals, and story. I am assuming when mention is made of the dialogue, it is in reference to Jack Nicholson, because the two lead characters are that mix of uncomfortable and annoying that you get with sometimes who is inebriated in some way. They repeat themselves, say phrases that make no sense and then laugh about it, and constantly say "what?" so the line is just repeated. The actors were often high during the making of the film and that is not at all surprising.

It seems funny to me that Dennis Hopper acted, directed, and partly wrote the script for the film, yet he gave himself the part of basically the third wheel. The character of Billy seems like he wants to be rich and have nice things but has fallen into the hippie lifestyle. He seems uncomfortable with the drug deal at the beginning. He doesn't want to pick up the hitcher. He wants to leave the commune and get back on the road. He insults George and has to apologize. He is the first to talk about the girls at the diner. He wants to go get prostitutes at the place that George talked about. He is the one that flips off the guys in the truck. Billy is the driving force of everything that goes wrong.

We can't talk about this film without mentioning the soundtrack, because it is kind of what the movie is famous for. Songs on the sound track include: "The Pusher" and "Born to Be Wild" (Steppenwolf), "The Weight" (The Band), "If 6 Was 9" (Jimi Hendrix), and "It's Alright, Ma" (Bob Dylan). Try putting this soundtrack on while driving and you will realize how perfect it is for a road trip. I don't think there has been a better grouping of driving songs.

So does this movie belong on the Top 100 American movies? Well, I guess. It was a watershed independent film during a time of major change in America and the world. It caught the interest of many in a generation and that is interesting enough to experience. Now would I recommend it? Not really. The film was kind of boring and the end is not satisfying. It is fascinating on many levels and I thought that the conversations that involved the character of George were good, but all lot of the movie is kind of slog. The campfire conversation between Wyatt, Billy and the hippie is just painful. It is maybe ironic, but this is a road trip movie that doesn't really move. It is worth watching if you are interested in the time period.